When people rattle off the big names of the occult world, it’s always the same predictable list. Crowley, who never met a press release he didn’t like. Mathers, who loved dressing up in more robes than an archbishop. Gerald Gardner, who liked being a witch almost as much as he enjoyed being whipped. Perhaps someone throws in ‘Dee’ to sound clever.
But lurking in the background is a man who was did doing valuable who has been missed: John Heyden, the 17th-century astrologer, alchemist, and author of Theomagica: Temple of Wisdom
A Rosicrucian Ambassador (Self-Appointed)
Heyden lived in post-Civil War England, where only a small percentage believed in magic. The rest thought astrology was devilry and the others were too drunk to care. But unlike the modern crowd who hint at Rosicrucian ties for a bit of mystique, Heyden went all in. He claimed to be an ambassador for the Rosicrucian movement and the face of their secret fraternity on English soil.
Considering the Rosicrucians were more of an idea than an organised body, probably not in the way he liked to imagine. But in fairness, it was the 17th century, and calling yourself a Rosicrucian anything was like sticking a “mystery influencer” badge on your chest. It got attention, and it worked.
In Theomagica, Heyden pulled together astrology, ceremonial magic, and natural philosophy without making it look like a jumble sale. He didn’t treat magic as a museum exhibit for bored scholars. He treated it as a living system that could stand alongside science and theology.
Compare that to the 19th-century magicians who repackaged the same ideas with added theatrical flourishes and told everyone they’d invented something new. Heyden was the real deal, a bridge figure who kept the tradition alive .
Theomagica: More Than a Book
Theomagica is the blueprint for a lot of the waffle you hear in modern occult circles, but with actual depth and taken in context.
Heyden discusses the magician as a mediator between celestial forces and the material world. It’s the exact microcosm–macrocosm spiel that the Golden Dawn borrowed wholesale and incorporated into their rituals. Like Heyden, Crowley waltzed in later, sprinkled on some poetry, and declared himself the prophet. But the cosmology he borrowed comes from the likes of Heyden.
His book is stuffed with Platonic philosophy, biblical mysticism, and the power of the stars, and unlike some later magicians, he didn’t need a thesaurus to make it look impressive.
Even Frederick Hockley, who was the Golden Dawn’s beta version, drew on Heyden when shaping his scrying techniques. And despite his endless bluster about smashing old systems, even Crowley ends up echoing Heyden’s ideas. Mathers and Westcott leaned on Heyden’s worldview, which included magical images and a hierarchy of spirits, while pretending it all came straight from the Secret Chiefs.
Inspiring the Leaders of Modern Occult Orders
Theomagica quietly made its way into esoteric circles like a stealthy initiator. It had the advantage that, being hard to find (there was a copy in the British Library and another in the United States), it could be mined without students knowing.
When the Golden Dawn was stitched together, the founders didn’t just pilfer Dee’s Enochian material and a bit of Kabbalah. They drew inspiration from writers like Heyden because they needed a philosophical foundation for their rituals.
Modern ceremonial magicians often discuss aligning with celestial forces or restoring harmony between the microcosm and the macrocosm. They’ll say it with a straight face while waving a wand they bought off Etsy. But nine times out of ten, they’re just regurgitating Heyden without even realising it.
Why He Still Matters
Heyden proves that magic isn’t just a Victorian cosplay hobby or a New Age hashtag. There’s no clean break between the Medieval magus, the Enlightenment mystic, and the Victorian ritualist. Theomagica is the missing link threads them all together.
Modern occult groups could learn a thing or two from him. For one, magic can be philosophical without being pretentious, and scientific without being soulless. Heyden didn’t need to invent a new religion or claim copyright to his name to make his work worthwhile.
There is a hidden element to Heyden that many modern or postmodern magicians never got to. For example, there is a lengthy preface that appears to be an Ancient Egyptian myth, except that all the names have been changed. In some cases, the names have been changed to Agrippa and Heyden’s spirits. This suggests an imaginative magic system which has not been adequately developed. There is an inexplicable centre book which claims to advise “kings” and while it works reasonably well in this function, it could equally be advising advanced occultists. There are a few chapters on “dreams” which could be used to create a theurgic inner landscape for ascension.
And in an era where most magical groups can’t tell the difference between actual practice and LARPing in a black robe, returning to someone like Heyden might inject a bit of intellectual honesty back into the mix.
Going deeper
Theomagica has been out of print for centuries, and where it can be found, it is usually in a mangled, badly printed state and poorly edited in 17th-century English (with all the s’s being f’s). I have edited a copy and posted it. It is a big book and it can be found here.
Read it with a notebook in hand and a functioning brain. Watch how he ties the heavens, the soul, and the divine into one coherent picture.
And remember: a lot of what Crowley shouted about, Mathers overcomplicated, and Westcott politely footnoted was already there, waiting in Heyden’s work.
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