The spiritual history of man reveals two distinct and fundamental attitudes towards the unseen; and two methods whereby he has sought to get in touch with it. For our present purpose I will call
these methods the “way of magic” and the “way of mysticism.” Having said this, we must at once add that although in their extreme forms these methods are sharply contrasted, their frontiers are
far from being clearly defined: that, starting from the same point, they often confuse the inquirer
by using the same language, instruments, and methods. Hence, much which is really magic is
loosely and popularly described as mysticism. They represent as a matter of fact the opposite poles
of the same thing: the transcendental consciousness of humanity. Between them lie the great
religions, which might be described under this metaphor as representing the ordinarily habitable
regions of that consciousness. Thus, at one end of the scale, pure mysticism “shades off” into
religion—from some points of view seems to grow out of it. No deeply religious man is without a
touch of mysticism; and no mystic can be other than religious, in the psychological if not in the
theological sense of the word. At the other end of the scale, as we shall see later, religion, no less
surely, shades off into magic.
The fundamental difference between the two is this: magic wants to get, mysticism wants
to give—immortal and antagonistic attitudes, which turn up under one disguise or another in every age of thought. Both magic and mysticism in their full development bring the whole mental
machinery, conscious and unconscious, to bear on their undertaking: both claim that they give their
initiates powers unknown to ordinary men. But the centre round which that machinery is grouped,
the reasons of that undertaking, and the ends to which those powers are applied differ enormously.
In mysticism the will is united with the emotions in an impassioned desire to transcend the
sense-world, in order that the self may be joined by love to the one eternal and ultimate Object of
love; whose existence is intuitively perceived by that which we used to call the soul, but now find
it easier to refer to as the “cosmic” or “transcendental” sense. This is the poetic and religious
temperament acting upon the plane of reality. In magic, the will unites with the intellect in an
impassioned desire for supersensible knowledge. This is the intellectual, aggressive, and scientific
temperament trying to extend its field of consciousness, until it includes the supersensual world:
obviously the antithesis of mysticism, though often adopting its title and style.
It will be our business later to consider in more detail the characteristics and significance
of magic. Now it is enough to say that we may class broadly as magical all forms of self-seeking
transcendentalism. It matters little whether the apparatus which they use be the incantations of the
old magicians, the congregational prayer for rain of orthodox Churchmen, or the consciously
self-hypnotizing devices of “New Thought”: whether the end proposed be the evocation of an angel,
the power of transcending circumstance, or the healing of disease. The object is always the same:
the deliberate exaltation of the will, till it transcends its usual limitations and obtains for the self
or group of selves something which it or they did not previously possess. It is an individualistic
and acquisitive science: in all its forms an activity of the intellect, seeking Reality for its own
purposes, or for those of humanity at large.
Mysticism, whose great name is too often given to these supersensual activities, has nothing
in common with this. It is non-individualistic… It is essentially
a movement of the heart, seeking to transcend the limitations of the individual standpoint and to
surrender itself to ultimate Reality; for no personal gain, to satisfy no transcendental curiosity, to
obtain no other-worldly joys, but purely from an instinct of love. By the word heart, of course we
here mean not merely “the seat of the affections,” “the organ of tender emotion,” and the like: but
rather the inmost sanctuary of personal being, the deep root of its love and will, the very source
of its energy and life. The mystic is “in love with the Absolute” not in any idle or sentimental
manner, but in that vital sense which presses at all costs and through all dangers towards union
with the object beloved. Hence, whilst the practice of magic—like the practice of science—does
not necessarily entail passionate emotion, though of course it does and must entail interest of some
kind, mysticism, like art, cannot exist without it. We must feel, and feel acutely, before we want
to act on this hard and heroic scale.
We see, then, that these two activities correspond to the two eternal passions of the self, the
desire of love and the desire of knowledge: severally representing the hunger of heart and intellect for ultimate truth. The third attitude towards the supersensual world, that of transcendental
philosophy, hardly comes within the scope of the present inquiry; since it is purely academic, whilst
both magic and mysticism are practical and empirical. Such philosophy is often wrongly called
mysticism, because it tries to make maps of the countries which the mystic explores. Its performances
are useful, as diagrams are useful, so long as they do not ape finality; remembering that the only
final thing is personal experience—the personal and costly exploration of the exalted and truth-loving
soul.
–MYSTICISM, Evelyn Underhill