Rank: Duke · Legions: 30 · Element: Water · Direction: South · Enn: Lyan ramec catya Bathin
Bathin, written also Bathym, Mathim, or Marthim in the older books, is the eighteenth spirit of the Ars Goetia — a mighty and strong Duke who governs thirty legions of spirits. He appears as a strong man with the tail of a serpent, seated upon a pale-coloured horse, and his gifts are the gifts of the natural world and of the open road: he knows the virtues of herbs and of precious stones, and he can bring a person suddenly from one country to another. In Bathin the seeker meets the serpent-tailed rider of the Goetia, the knower of the hidden powers of the green and the mineral world, and the master of sudden travel across great distances. He is approached, in the reverent tradition, for the wisdom of herbs and stones — the healing and magical virtues sleeping in plant and gem — and for the powers of the journey: travel, crossing, transition, and the swift passage from one place, or one state, to another.
He descends to the modern practitioner through the long chain of grimoires, his name written in several forms — Bathin, Bathym, Mathim, Marthim. He appears among the dukes of the infernal hierarchy in Johann Weyer's Pseudomonarchia Daemonum of 1577, and was carried over as the eighteenth spirit when that material was gathered into the Ars Goetia, the first book of the Lemegeton or Lesser Key of Solomon in the seventeenth century. Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers and Aleister Crowley fixed the modern English text in their edition of the Goetia in 1904, and Jacques Collin de Plancy kept his memory among the spirits of his Dictionnaire Infernal. Across all of these the account holds firm: the mighty and strong Duke, the strong man with the serpent's tail upon the pale horse, the knower of the virtues of herbs and precious stones, and the one who can bring men suddenly from one country to another, ruling over thirty legions of spirits. He is remembered, wherever he appears, as a spirit of natural wisdom and of sudden travel.
The grimoires are precise and vivid about how Bathin comes: as a strong man bearing the tail of a serpent, seated upon a pale-coloured horse. Each part of this image carries meaning. The strong man is the sign of his might, for he is named a mighty and strong Duke; the serpent's tail is the ancient emblem of wisdom, of transformation, and of the hidden knowledge that winds beneath the surface of things; and the pale horse is the mount of the traveller, the sign of the journey and the crossing of distances, the steed that carries its rider swiftly from place to place. Together they draw the portrait of a spirit who is at once powerful, wise in the hidden virtues of nature, and ever ready to ride — a serpent-sage on horseback, at home upon the open road. To picture Bathin rightly is to see this strong, serpent-tailed rider upon his pale horse, poised for the journey.
Bathin holds the rank of Duke — in the Goetic hierarchy a high office of nobility and command — and the grimoires name him not merely a Duke but a mighty and strong one, ruling over thirty legions of spirits. His is a robust and vigorous power, the strength of the strong man he appears to be, bent toward the knowledge of nature and the crossing of distances. To call upon this Duke is to summon a powerful and vigorous presence, a serpent-tailed rider whose might is turned toward the virtues of herb and stone and the swift passage of the journey.
The first of Bathin's gifts is the wisdom of the natural world. The grimoires say that he knows the virtues of herbs and of precious stones — the hidden powers and properties that sleep in the green things of the earth and in its gems and minerals. This is a double lore: the virtue of the herb, which heals and works its quiet magic through root and leaf and flower, and the virtue of the stone, the power that many traditions find in the crystal and the gem. Where Buer teaches the virtues of herbs and plants for healing and philosophy, Bathin's knowledge reaches also into the mineral world, into the powers of precious stones, joining the lore of the garden to the lore of the mine. Practitioners drawn to herbalism, to natural medicine, and to the working of magic with crystals and gems have long found in him a fitting teacher of the hidden virtues that the earth conceals in its living and its stony treasures alike.
The gift for which Bathin is most distinctive is the power of the journey. The grimoires say that he can bring a person suddenly from one country to another — that he carries the traveller swiftly across great distances, from place to place, as his pale horse bears its rider. In the old accounts this is the marvel of sudden transportation, the crossing of vast space in little time. Modern practitioners most often approach it in a subtler key: as aid in travel and in the crossings of life, as the smoothing and speeding of a journey, and above all as a spirit of the astral journey — the travelling of the spirit beyond the body, the crossing of the thresholds between places and states of being. The pale horse is ever the sign of this power: Bathin is the rider who crosses distances, and he lends his swift passage to those who must journey, whether across the world or across the unseen thresholds of the spirit.
What gathers Bathin's gifts into one is the joining of the wisdom of the earth to the power of crossing. He knows the virtues that sleep in herb and stone — the settled, rooted lore of the natural world — and he rides the pale horse across every distance, the very image of movement and passage. In him the knowledge of place and the power of journey are held together: the one who understands the hidden virtues of the earth is also the one who moves swiftly across it. Practitioners drawn to the green and mineral wisdom of nature, and to travel and the crossing of thresholds, find in Bathin a single patron of both — a serpent-sage who is at home in the garden and the mine, and ever ready upon the open road.
Within demonolatry and the modern left-hand path, Bathin is honoured as the serpent-tailed rider of the Goetia — a spirit of natural wisdom and of the journey, approached with respect and a genuine need. The reverent practitioner does not regard him as a slave to be coerced by threats, as the older exorcists' rites would have it, but as a mighty and knowing being to be met with sincerity. He is widely held to be capable and vigorous with those who come to him honestly, and especially close to those who work with herbs and stones, who study natural and crystal magic, or who seek aid in travel and in the crossings of the spirit. To work with Bathin in this spirit is to gain a knowing ally in the wisdom of the earth and a swift companion upon the road — one who teaches the virtues of herb and stone, and lends his pale horse to the journey.
The journey from the medieval and renaissance grimoires to the modern altar has changed how Bathin is approached without much changing who he is said to be. The old rites framed every Goetic spirit as a danger to be bound within a triangle and compelled by divine names, and took his power of sudden travel as a literal marvel of transportation. The modern reverent practitioner, by contrast, comes to Bathin with the seal, the Enn, and an honest need — most often for the wisdom of herbs and stones, for aid and smoothing in travel, or for help in the astral journey and the crossing of inner thresholds. His serpent's tail and pale horse are understood as the signs of his hidden wisdom and his power of passage. The forms have softened; the spirit described is the same mighty rider who has answered seekers for four centuries and more.
In contemporary demonolatry Bathin is approached through his seal and his Enn — the chanted phrase Lyan ramec catya Bathin — by which practitioners open the way to him and hold his presence near. He is called upon for the knowledge of the virtues of herbs and precious stones, for herbal and crystal magic, for aid and safety in travel, and for the astral journey and the crossing of the thresholds of the spirit. Those who keep company with him describe a presence that is strong, vigorous, and knowing — a sense of a powerful serpent-tailed rider upon a pale horse, of a settled wisdom in the ways of nature joined to a readiness for the road. He rewards sincerity and a genuine engagement with the wisdom or the journey he offers, and he is, by the long testimony of the tradition, a capable and willing ally to those who come to him in earnest.
What endures across every telling is the joined wisdom and motion of him. Bathin is the serpent-sage on horseback: the strong man with the serpent's tail, the rider of the pale horse, the knower of the virtues of herb and stone, the master of the sudden journey. He is mighty where many spirits are subtle, rooted in the wisdom of the earth yet ever ready to ride, and close to two old human needs — to know the hidden powers of the natural world, and to cross the distances that separate one place, or one state of being, from another. He asks for sincerity and a genuine engagement with what he teaches and carries, and to those who bring them he is, by the steady witness of the grimoires and of those who work with him still, a mighty and strong Duke: the serpent-tailed rider who knows the virtues of the earth, and lends his pale horse to the journey.
The grimoires describe Bathin as a strong man bearing the tail of a serpent, seated upon a pale-coloured horse. Each part of the image speaks: the strong man of his might, for he is a mighty and strong Duke; the serpent's tail of hidden wisdom and transformation, the knowledge that winds beneath the surface of things; and the pale horse of the traveller, the sign of the journey and the swift crossing of distances. Those who work with him today describe a presence that is strong, vigorous, and knowing — a sense of a powerful serpent-tailed rider upon a pale horse, a settled wisdom in the ways of nature joined to a readiness for the road.
Enn: Lyan ramec catya Bathin
Working with Bathin is the meeting of a mighty and knowing spirit — a serpent-tailed Duke whose gifts are the wisdom of herb and stone and the power of the journey. His is the settled lore of the natural world joined to the swift passage of the pale horse, rightly turned toward the understanding of nature's hidden virtues and toward travel and the crossings of the spirit. He comes as a strong rider ever ready for the road, and he answers those who come to him with sincerity and a genuine engagement with what he teaches and carries. What follows is a guide to that relationship: how to approach the Duke, how to learn the virtues of herbs and stones, and how to seek his aid in the journey.
Come to Bathin as you would come to a strong and knowing traveller and herb-lorist — with respect, sincerity, and a genuine need for his wisdom or his aid upon the road. He is not a spirit to be summoned idly, for his gifts touch the hidden virtues of nature and the crossing of distances, and he answers best to those who come with a real engagement rather than mere curiosity. Approach him with respect for his might and his knowledge, steady and sincere, neither grovelling nor presuming, and be clear about the wisdom you seek or the journey you would undertake. The relationship with him is built upon sincerity and genuine engagement, and what is begun in earnest he tends to meet in kind.
Prepare a clean and quiet place where you will not be disturbed, and prepare yourself with an open and attentive mind. Many practitioners cleanse themselves and the space beforehand and set out his seal as the single focus of the working. Because his nature is bound up with the herbs and stones of the earth, some bring plants, herbs, crystals, or precious stones into the working; where the work is for travel or the astral journey, some set out a token of the place they would reach or an emblem of the road. Settle your breathing and your mind, and bring with you a clear sense of what you seek: the virtue of a herb or a stone to be understood, aid in a journey to be undertaken, or the crossing of an inner threshold.
Open the way to Bathin by setting your attention upon his seal and reciting his Enn — Lyan ramec catya Bathin — slowly and steadily, letting the chanted words carry your intent and call his presence near. Repeat the Enn until you feel the air of the working change: a gathering of strong and vigorous presence, a sense of a knowing rider drawing near upon his pale horse. Do not rush this; let his powerful, ready presence gather and settle before you ask anything of him, for the work with Bathin is a work of wisdom and of passage, best begun with a steady and open mind.
To seek Bathin as a teacher of natural wisdom, name the herb, the plant, or the precious stone whose virtue you wish to understand, and ask him for the knowledge of its hidden powers — what it heals, what it works, what quiet magic sleeps within it. His lore reaches into both the green world and the mineral, so bring the herbs or the stones themselves into the working where you can, and join the asking to real study and practice. Ask for the understanding of a plant's healing use or a stone's virtue, and then handle, tend, and work with them, for his teaching takes root best in hands that actually engage the herbs and stones they seek to know. Attend to what comes — an insight into a use, a turn of attention toward a property overlooked — and put it to careful and responsible use.
Bathin lends his pale horse to the journey, and to seek this aid, name the travel you would undertake or the crossing you would make, and ask him for his swift and steadying passage. For an ordinary journey, ask his aid in the smoothing and the safe speeding of the road. For the astral journey — the travelling of the spirit beyond the body — ask his aid in the crossing of the threshold and the safe passage of the spirit, and approach this deeper work soberly and with proper grounding, going out and returning with care. For the inner crossings of life — the passage from one state or season of being to another — ask his help in making the transition swiftly and well. In every case he is the rider who crosses distances; ask his pale horse to carry you, and keep your own footing upon the road.
Practitioners describe the signs of Bathin's presence and favour in strong and vivid terms fitting to a serpent-tailed rider. There may be a gathering sense of strong and vigorous presence, a feeling of a knowing rider near at hand, an impression of the pale horse and the open road. In the days that follow some report a sudden insight into the virtue of a herb or a stone, an unexpected smoothing or opening of a journey, or a new ease in crossing an inner threshold that had seemed closed. In astral work some report a swifter and clearer passage of the spirit. Keep a written record of what comes during and after the working — the insights, the turns of a journey, the crossings made — for his gifts unfold in the engaging and the travelling of them.
Work with Bathin honestly, soberly, and with genuine engagement. Treat the virtues of herbs and stones with proper knowledge and care, for the powers of the natural world include the power to harm as well as to heal, and no working replaces the sound knowledge and caution that herbs and remedies demand. Approach the astral journey and the deeper crossings soberly and with proper grounding, going out and returning with care rather than recklessly. Seek his aid in travel and transition for genuine need, and turn what he teaches toward good and responsible ends. Come to him always in good faith, sincere in the wisdom you seek and the journey you would make — for he is a mighty and knowing Duke who answers sincerity and genuine engagement with capable aid, and idle or careless use with silence.