Wee told you in the Dialogue of Mercury with the Alchymist, of an

Assembly of Alchymists that were met together to consult out of what

matter, and how the Philosophers Stone is to be made, and how that by

the misfortune of a tempest they were without any conclusion dispersed

almost through the whole world. For there arose a strong tempest,

and very great wind, which dispersed them all abroad, and so blowed

through some of their heads, that till this time they cannot yet

recover themselves, by meanes of which divers sort of worms are bred

in their brains. Now there were amongst them men of divers opinions,

and conditions, and among the rest there was this Alchymist, which in

this Treatise I shall discourse of: hee was otherwise a good man, but

without a Conclusion, or unresolved, also of the number of those, who

propound to themselves to find out the Philosophers Stone casually, and

he was companion to that Philosopher, who disputed with Mercury. Now

this man said, if it had been my fortune to have spoke with Mercury,

I should have fished him dry in few words; that other, saith hee, was

a foole, hee knew not how to proceed with him. Mercury indeed never

pleased mee, neither indeed do I think there is any good in it; but

I approve of Sulphur, because at that meeting wee discoursed most

excellently of it: if that tempest had not disturbed us, wee had

concluded that that had been the first matter, for I am not wont to

trouble my selfe with light, and triviall matters, my head is full of

profound imaginations. And so being full of confidence hee resolves

to work in Sulphur, hee began therefore to distill it, to sublime,

calcine, to fix it, to make oyle _per Campanam_ of it, sometimes by

itselfe, and sometimes with Crystals, and Egge-shels, and hee tryed

divers other operations about it: and when hee had spent much time and

costs, and could find nothing to his purpose, he was sad, and being

in a miserable perplexity passed over many nights without sleep; also

oftentimes hee went forth out of the City, to behold things, that hee

might the more conveniently devise something that was certain in his

operation: Now it fell out upon a time, as he was walking up and down,

hee fell into an extasy with beholding of things, and came unto a

certain green Wood, very full of all manner of things; in which were

Mines of all Mineralls, and Metalls, and all kinds of beasts, and

birds, and abundance of Trees, Herbs, and fruit: there also were divers

conduits of water, for in those places there was no water to be had,

but what was brought thither by divers instruments, and pipes, and

this by divers Artificers from divers places: that was the chiefest,

and clearer then the rest, which was drawne by the beams of the Moon;

and this was procured only for the Nymph of the Wood. There also did

feed Bulls, and Rams, and the Shepheards were two young men, whom the

Alchymist asking, said, Whose Wood is this? whom they answered saying,

This is the Wood, and Garden of our Nymph _Venus_. The Alchymist walks

up, and down in it: and the place pleased him well, but yet hee did

still think of his Sulphur; and so being weary of walking, and in a

sad condition sate by the side of the channel, under a certain tree;

and began to lament most miserably, bewailing his time, and charges,

which he spent in vain with operating (he could not els have deceived

others, but have damnified himself only) and said, What is this,

all men say it is a thing common, of small esteem, easy, and I am a

learned man, & I cannot find out this wretched Stone. And so in his

lamentation he began to curse Sulphur, because he had spent so much

cost, and labour in vain upon him: and Sulphur also was in that Wood,

but this was unknown to the Alchymist. Whilst he was thus lamenting,

he heard this voice as it were of some old man: Friend, Why dost thou

curse Sulphur? The Alchymist looked every way round about him, and

seeing no body, was afraid. But that voice said to him again, Friend

why art thou so sad? The Alchymist taking courage, said, Sir, The

hungry man is alwaies thinking upon bread, so doe I alwaies upon the

Philosophers Stone. _Vox_, And why dost thou curse Sulphur? _Alch._

Sir, I beleeved that that was the first matter of the Philosophers

Stone, and therefore in working upon it many years, I spent much, and

could not find that Stone. _Vox._ Friend, truly I know that Sulphur is

the true, and principall subject of the Philosophers Stone, but I know

not thee, nor any thing of thy labour, and intention: thou dost without

cause curse Sulphur; because he is in cruell prisons, and cannot be at

hand to every body; seeing hee is put bound in a most dark dungeon,

and goes not forth, but whither his Keepers carry him. _Alch._ And

why is he imprisoned? _Vox._ Because hee would bee obedient to every

Alchymist, and doe what they would have him, contrary to his Mothers

will, who forbad him to obey any, but such as knew her, wherefore shee

put him into prison, and commanded that his feet should be bound, and

set Keepers over him, that without their knowledg, and pleasure hee

should goe no whither. _Alch._ O wretch! for this reason hee could not

come to mee: truly his Mother doth him great wrong: and when shall

hee bee let out of those prisons? _Vox_, O friend! The Sulphur of

Philosophers cannot goe forth hence but in a long time, and with a

great deale of labour. _Alch._ Sir! And who be his Keepers that keep

him? _Vox_, Friend! His Keepers are of the same stocke, but Tyrants.

_Alch._ And who art thou, and how art thou called? _Vox_, I am Judge,

and Governour of the prisons, and my name is _Saturne_. _Alch._ Then

Sulphur is kept in thy prisons. _Vox_, Sulphur indeed is kept in my

prisons, but hee hath other Keepers. _Alch._ And what doth hee doe

in the prisons? _Vox_, He doth whatsoever his Keepers will have him.

_Alch._ And what can hee doe? _Vox_, Hee is the maker of a thousand

things, and is the heart of all things; hee knows how to make Metalls

better, and corrects Mineralls, teacheth Animalls understanding,

knowes how to make all kind of Flowers in Hearbs, and Trees, and is

chief over them, corrupts the Aire, which hee amends again: hee is

the Maker of all Odours, and Painter of all Colours. _Alch._ Out of

what matter doth hee make Flowers? _Vox_, His Keepers afford matter,

and vessells, but Sulphur digests the matter, and according to the

variety of his digestion, and weight, various Flowers, and Odours are

produced. _Alch._ Is hee old? _Vox_, Friend, Know that Sulphur is the

vertue of all things, and is the second by birth, but yet older then

all things, stronger, and more worthy, yet an obedient child. _Alch._

Sir, How is hee known? _Vox_, Divers wayes, but best by the State of

the Vitalls in Animalls, by the colour in Metalls, by the odour in

Vegetables: without him his Mother works nothing. _Alch._ Is hee the

sole heir, or hath hee brethren? _Vox_, His Mother hath but only one

son like him, his other brethren are associated with evil things, hee

hath a sister which he loves, and is againe beloved by her, for shee is

as it were a Mother to him. _Alch._ Sir, is hee every where uniform?

_Vox_, According to his Nature, but hee is changed in the prisons;

yet his heart is alwaies pure, but his garments are stained. _Alch._

Sir, Was hee ever at liberty? _Vox_, Yea, especially in those times

when there were such wise men, betwixt whom, and his Mother there was

great familiarity, and friendship. _Alch._ And who were they? _Vox_,

There were very many: There was _Hermes_, who was as it were one with

his Mother: After him were many Kings, and Princes, as also many other

wise men, in ages since, as _Aristotle_, _Avicen_, &c. who set him at

liberty: These knew how to unloose his bonds. _Alch._ Sir, What did hee

give them for setting of him at liberty? _Vox_, Hee gave them three

Kingdomes: for when any doth unbind him, and releaseth him, then he

overcomes his Keepers, which before did govern in his Kingdome, and

delivers them being bound to him that released him, for to bee his

subjects, and gives him their Kingdomes to possesse: but that, which is

more; in his Kingdome is a Looking-glasse, in which is seen the whole

world. Whosoever lookes in this Glasse may see, and learn in it three

parts of the wisdome of the whole world, and so shall become very wise

in these three Kingdomes, such were _Aristotle_, _Avicen_, and many

others, who as well as they before them, saw in this glasse how the

world was made: By this they learned what were the influences of the

Celestiall vertues upon inferiour bodies, and how Nature by the weight

of Fire compounds things; as also the motion of the Sun, and Moon:

especially that universall motion, by which his Mother is governed:

by this they knew the degrees of heat, cold, moisture, drynesse, and

the vertues of hearbs, and indeed of all things, whence they became

most excellent Physitians. And truly, unlesse a Physitian be such a

one as knows, why this hearb, or that, is hot, dry, or moist in this

degree, not out of the books of _Galen_, or _Avicen_, but out of the

originall of Nature, from whence they also understood these things, hee

cannot bee a well grounded Physitian. All these things they diligently

considered, and bequeathed their Writings to their successors, that

men might bee stirred up to studies of a higher Nature, and learn how

to set Sulphur at liberty, and unloose his bonds: but men of this age

take their Writings for a sufficient ground, and authority, and seek

no further; and it sufficeth them if they know how to say, So saith

_Aristotle_, or; Thus saith _Galen_. _Alch._ And what say you, Sir, Can

an herb bee known without an Herball? _Vox_, Those ancient Philosophers

wrote their Receipts out of the very Fountain of Nature. _Alch._ How

Sir? _Vox_, Know that all things in the earth, and upon the earth, are

generated, and produced of three Principles; sometimes of two, to which

the third is joined: he therefore that knows these three Principles;

and the weight of them, how Nature joins them together, may be easily

able by decoction to understand the degree of Fire in the subject,

whether well, or ill, or indifferently decocted, and that according

to more or lesse: For all Vegetable things are known by those, who

know the three Principles. _Alch._ And how is this done? _Vox_, By

sight, tast, and smell; in, and from these three senses are gathered

the three Principles of things, and the degrees of their digestions.

_Alch._ Sir, They say that Sulphur is a Medicine. _Vox_, Yea, and the

Physitian himselfe, and to them that set him free from prison, by way

of thankfulnesse hee gives his blood for a Medicine. _Alch._ Sir, the

universall Medicine being had, how long may a man preserve himselfe

from death? _Vox_, Even to the term of death: but this Medicine must

bee taken cautiously, for many wise men have been destroyed by it

before their time. _Alch._ And what say you Sir, Is it poison? _Vox_,

Hast not thou heard that a great flame of fire destroyes a little one?

There were many Philosophers, which received the Art from other mens

experience, which did not so throughly search into the vertue of the

Medicine; yea, by how much the more powerfull, subtiler the Medicine

was, it seemed to them to bee the more wholsome; and if one grain of

it can passe through many thousands of Metalls, much more Mans body.

_Alch._ Sir, How then must it be used? _Vox_, It must bee so used, that

it may strengthen the Naturall heat, but not overcome it. _Alch._ Sir,

I know how to make such a Medicine. _Vox_, Thou art happy if thou dost

know. For the blood of that Sulphur is that intrinsecall vertue, and

siccity that turnes, and congeals Quicksilver, and all Metalls into

Gold, and Mens bodies into health. _Alch._ Sir, I know how to make oyle

of Sulphur, which is prepared with calcined Crystalls; I know also

another, which is done by a Bell. _Vox_, Certainly then thou art a

Philosopher of that Assembly; for thou dost understand, and expound my

words aright, as also, unlesse I am deceived, of all the Philosophers.

_Alch._ Sir, Is not this oyle the blood of Sulphur? _Vox_, O Friend!

the blood of Sulphur is not given to any but to those, who know how

to set him free from prison. _Alch._ Sir, doth Sulphur know any thing

in the Metalls? _Vox_, I told thee, that hee knows all things, and

especially in Metalls, but his Keepers know that there he could bee

easily set at liberty, wherefore they keep him there bound fast in most

strong prisons, so that hee cannot breath, and they are afraid lest hee

should come into the Kings palace. _Alch._ Is hee imprisoned so in all

Metalls? _Vox_, In all; but not alike, in some not so strictly. _Alch._

Sir, And why in Metalls in such a tyrannicall manner? _Vox_, Because

hee would stand in awe of them no longer, when hee shall once come to

his Kingly palaces, for then hee can be seen, and looke freely out of

the windows; because there he is in his proper Kingdome, although not

yet as hee desires. _Alch._ Sir, and what doth hee eat? _Vox_, His meat

is wind, when hee is at liberty, it is decocted; but in prison hee is

constrained to eat it raw. _Alch._ Sir, Can those enmities betwixt him

and his Keepers bee reconciled? _Vox_, Yes, if any one were so wise.

_Alch._ Why doth not he treat with them concerning a pacification?

_Vox_, That hee cannot doe by himselfe, because presently hee waxeth

hot with anger, and rage. _Alch._ Let him doe it by a Commissioner.

_Vox_, Certainly hee would bee the most happy man in the world, and

worthy of eternall memory, who could tell how to make peace betwixt

them; but this no man can doe but hee that is very wise, and can agree

with his Mother, and have co-intelligence with her: for if they were

friends, one would not hinder the other, but joining their forces

together would make things immortall. Truely hee that would reconcile

them together would bee a man worthy to be consecrated to eternity.

_Alch._ Sir, I will compose those differences betwixt them, and free

him, I am in other matters a man very learned, and wise: Besides, I

am very good at operations. _Vox_, Friend, I see truly that thou art

big enough, and thou hast a great head, but I know not whether thou

canst doe those things or no. _Alch._ Sir, Perhaps thou art ignorant

of what the Alchymists know, in matter of treaty they have alwaies

the better of it, and truly I am not the last, so that his enemies

will but treat with mee, if they will treat, assure your selfe that

they will have the worst. Sir, beleeve mee, the Alchymists know how to

treat, if they only will but treat with mee, Sulphur shall presently

be at liberty. _Vox_, I like your judgement well, I hear that you are

approved of. _Alch._ Sir, Tell mee if this bee the true Sulphur of the

Philosophers? _Vox_, This truely is Sulphur, but whether it be the

Philosopher, that belongs to thee to know. I have said enough to thee

concerning Sulphur. _Alch._ Sir, If I can find his prisons, shall I bee

able to set him at liberty? _Vox_, If thou knowest well, thou shalt;

for it is easier to free him then find them. _Alch._ Sir, I beseech

thee tell mee but this, if I find him, shal I make the Philosophers

stone of him? _Vox_, O Friend! It is not for mee to judge, doe thou

look to that, yet if thou knowest his Mother, and followest her,

Sulphur being at liberty, the Stone is at hand. _Alch._ Sir, in what

subject is this Sulphur? _Vo._ Know for certain that this Sulphur is

of great vertue, his Mine are all things in the world, for hee is in

Metalls, Hearbs, Trees, Animalls, Stones, and Mineralls. _Alch._ And

what Devill is able to find him out lying hid amongst so many things,

and subjects? Tell mee the matter out of which the Philosophers take

him. _Vo._ Friend, thou comest too neer, yet that I may satisfie

thee, know that Sulphur is every where, but shee hath some certaine

palaces, where shee is wont to give audience to the Philosophers; but

the Philosophers adore him swimming in his owne sea, and playing with

Vulcan; when the Philosophers goe to him unknown in his vile garments.

_Alch._ Sir, in the sea, why then is hee not mine, since hee is hid

here so neer? _Vo._ I told thee that his Keepers put him into most

dark prisons, lest thou shouldst see him, for hee is in one subject

alone, but if thou hast not found him at home, thou wilt scarce find

him in the Woods. But doe not thou despaire in finding of him out: I

tell thee of a truth, that hee is in Gold, and Silver most perfect,

but in Argent vive most easy. _Alch._ Sir, I would very willingly make

the Philosophers Stone. _Vo._ Thou desirest a good thing, Sulphur also

would willingly bee out of bonds. And so _Saturn_ departed. Now a deep

sleep seased upon the Alchymist, being weary, and there appeared to

him this Vision, Hee saw in that Wood a fountain full of water, about

which walked Sal, and Sulphur, contending one with the other, untill

at last they began to fight; and Sal gave Sulphur an incurable wound,

out of which wound, in stead of blood, there came out water, as it were

most white milk, and it became to be a great river. Then out of that

Wood came forth _Diana_ a most beautifull Virgin, who began to wash

her self in that river: whom a certain Prince, a most stout man (and

greater then his servants) passing by, and seeing, began to admire at

her beauty; and because shee was of a like nature with him, hee became

enamoured with her, which when she perceived, shee was inflamed with

love towards him. Wherefore as it were falling into a swoun she began

to be drowned: which that Prince seeing, commanded his servants to help

her; but they were all afraid to goe to the river; to whom the Prince

said, Why doe you not help _Diana_ that Virgin? To whom they replyed,

Sir, this river is indeed little, and as it were dryed up, but most

dangerous: Once upon a time wee were willing to go into it without thy

knowledge, and wee hardly escaped the danger of eternall death; Wee

know also that others that were our predecessors perished in it. Then

the Prince himselfe laying aside his thick mantle, even as hee was

armed, leaped into the river, and to help faire _Diana_ hee stretched

forth his hand to her; who being willing to save her selfe, drew also

the Prince himselfe to her, and so were both drowned. A little after

their souls came out of the river, flying above the river, and said,

It was well done of us, for else wee could not have been freed from

those bodies which are polluted, and stained. _Alch._ But doe you ever

return into those bodies againe? _Anime_, Not into such filthy bodies,

but when they be purged, and this river shall bee throughly dryed up

by the heat of the sunne, and this Province shall bee often tryed by

the Aire. _Alch._ What shall you doe in the mean time. _Anim._ Here wee

shall fly upon the river till those clouds, and tempests shall cease.

In the mean time the Alchymist fell into a more desired dream of his

Sulphur; and behold there appeared to him many Alchymists coming to

that place to seek after Sulphur, and when they found the carkasse of

that Sulphur that was slain by Sal by the fountain, they divided it

amongst themselves: which when the Alchymist saw hee also took a part

with them; and so every one of them returned home, and began to work in

that Sulphur, and till this day they doe not give over. But _Saturne_

meets this Alchymist, and saith to him, Friend, how is it with thee?

_Alch._ O Sir, I have seen many wonderfull things, my wife would scarce

beleeve them; now also I have found Sulphur, I beseech you Sir help,

let us make the Philosophers Stone. _Saturnus._ With all my heart,

my friend, make ready then Argent-vive, and Sulphur, and give hither

a glasse. _Alch._ Sir, have nothing to doe with Mercury, for he is

naught, he hath deluded my companion, and many others. _Sat._ Without

Argent-vive, in whose Kingdome Sulphur is the King, the Philosophers

have done nothing, neither doe I know what to doe without it. _Alch._

Sir, Let us make it of Sulphur alone. _Sat._ Well then, my friend, but

it will succeed accordingly. Then they took that Sulphur, which the

Alchymist found, and they did what the Alchymist would have done,

they began to work divers ways, and to make experiments of Sulphur

in divers strange kind of furnaces, which the Alchymist had: but in

the conclusion of every operation there was brought forth nothing but

Matches, such as old women usually sell to light candles withall. Then

they began a new work, and sublimed, and calcined Sulphur according

to the Alchymists pleasure; but in what way soever they worked it, it

succeeded as before, for still they made nothing but Matches; then said

the Alchymist to Saturn, Truly Sir, I see it will not succeed according

to my fancy, I beseech thee doe thou work alone, what thou knowest.

Then Saturn said, See then, and learn. Hee then took two Mercuries of a

differing substance, but of one originall, which Saturn washed in his

owne urine, and called them Sulphurs of Sulphurs, and mixed the fixed

with the volatile, and the composition being made, hee put it into its

proper vessell, and lest the Sulphur should fly away, hee set a keeper

over him, and then put him into a bath of a most gentle heat, according

as the matter required, and hee made all things very well. Then they

made the Philosophers Stone, because of the true matter a true thing

must needs bee made. The Alchymist being very glad took the Stone with

the glasse, and beholding the colour thereof, which was like burnt

blood, hee was amazed, and by reason of too much joy hee began to leap,

in which leaping the glasse fell out of his hands upon the ground,

and was broken. And so Saturn vanished away. The Alchymist also being

awaked out of his dream, found nothing in his hands but Matches which

hee made of brimstone: but the Stone flew away, and doth still fly;

whence it is called Volatile: and so that miserable Alchymist learned

nothing else by that Vision but how to make Matches: who afterwards

laying aside the Stone, became to be a Physitian; by searching after

the stone of the Philosophers hee got the stone of the Kidneys. Last of

all hee led such a life, as such kind of Alchymists are wont to doe,

who for the most part become Physitians, or Quacksalvers, which thing

will happen to all, who betake themselves to the Art casually without

any foundation, but only by hearesay, or by meanes of Receipts.

Some of them, when things succeed not, say: We are wise men, wee hear

that the grasse grows, if the Art were true wee should have had it

before other men: And so having brazen faces, lest wee should bee

accounted undeserving men (as indeed they are, and also perverse)

contemne, and undervalue the Art. This Science hates such men, and

alwaies shews them the beginning in the end. Now we grant unto the

unworthy, that this Art is nothing, but to the Lovers of vertue, and

the true Searchers, and Sons of Wisdome, wee doe most highly commend

it, and doe affirme it not only to be true, but altogether the truest:

which, sometimes wee have really made good before men worthy of such a

fight, I say before men of high, and low condition: (yet this Medicine

was not made by us, but received from a friend, and yet most true)

for the searching out of which wee have sufficiently instructed the

Searchers thereof; whom if our Writings doe not please, let them read

those of other Authors, which are easier, but with this Caution, That

whatsoever they shall read, they shall alwaies compare it with the

possibility of Nature, lest they assay any thing contrary to Nature.

Neither let them beleeve, although it were written in the bookes of

Philosophers, that Fire burns not, because this is contrary to Nature:

but if it bee writ, that Fire hath a drying, and heating faculty, this

is to bee beleeved, because it is according to Nature: For Nature doth

alwaies agree with a sound judgment, and in Nature there is nothing

difficult, all truth is plain. Then also let them learne, what things

in Nature are of affinity with each other, which wee conceive may be

easier done by our Writings, then any other, seeing wee think wee have

wrote sufficiently, untill some other shall come, who shall set downe

the whole Receipt so plaine, as to make cheese of Milke, which is not

lawfull for us to doe.

But that I may not direct all things I say to the new beginner only,

wee shall say something to you also who now have passed over these

painfull labours. Have you seen that Countrey, where a man marryed a

wife, whose nuptialls were celebrated in the house of Nature? Have

you understood how the vulgar with you have seen this Sulphur? If

therefore you will that old women should practise your Philosophy,

shew the dealbation of your Sulphurs; say unto the vulgar, Come and

see, for now the water is divided, and Sulphur is come out; hee will

return white, and congeale the Waters. Burn therefore Sulphur from

incombustible Sulphur, then wash it, make it white, and red, untill

Sulphur become Mercury, and Mercury bee made Sulphur, which afterwards

you shall beautifie with the soule of Gold: For if you doe not sublime

Sulphur, from Sulphur, and Mercury from Mercury, you have not yet found

out the Water, which out of Sulphur, and Mercury is created by way of

distillation; hee doth not ascend, that doth not descend. Whatsoever

in this Art is remarkable, by many is lost in the preparation, for

our Mercury is quickened with Sulphur, else it would bee of no use. A

Prince without a people is unhappy; so is an Alchymist without Sulphur,

and Mercury. If thou hast understood mee, I have said enough.

[Illustration: *decorative divider*]

THE CONCLVSION.

Every searcher of this Art must in the first place with a mature

judgement examine the creation, operation, and vertues of the four

Elements together with their actings: for if hee be ignorant of the

originall, and Nature of these, hee shall not come to the knowledge

of the Principles, neither shall hee know the true matter of the

Stone, much lesse attain to any good conclusion; because every end

is terminated upon its beginning. Hee that well knowes what hee

begins, shall well know what shall bee the end. For the originall of

the Elements is the Chaos, out of which God the Maker of all things

created, and separated the Elements, which belongs to God alone: but

out of the Elements Nature produceth the Principles of things, and this

is Natures worke, through the will of God alone: Out of the Principles

Nature afterwards produceth Mineralls, and all things: out of which

the Artist also by imitating Nature can doe many wonderfull things.

Because Nature out of these Principles, which are Salt, Sulphur, and

Mercury, doth produce Mineralls, and Metalls, and all kinds of things;

and it doth not simply produce Metalls out of the Elements, but by

Principles, which are the medium betwixt the Elements, and Metalls:

Therefore if Nature doth not make those things, much lesse shall Art.

And not only in this example, but also in every naturall processe a

middle disposition is to bee observed. Wherefore here in this Treatise

wee have sufficiently described the Elements, their actings, and

operations, as also the originall of the Principles (because hitherto

no Philosopher hath discovered things more cleerly) that the well

minded searcher might the more easily consider in what degree the

Stone differs from Metalls, and Metalls from Elements. For there is

a difference betwixt Gold, and Water, but lesse betwixt Water, and

Mercury; and least of all betwixt Mercury, and Gold. For the house of

Gold is Mercury, and the house of Mercury is Water: but Sulphur is that

which coagulates Mercury; which Sulphur indeed is most difficultly

prepared, but more difficultly found out. For in the Sulphur of

Philosophers this secret consists, which also is contained in the

inward rooms of Mercury, of whose preparation, without which it is

unprofitable, wee shall discourse hereafter in the third Principle of

Salt, seeing here wee treat of the vertue, and originall, not Praxis,

of Sulphur.

Wherefore now wee have not writ this Treatise that wee would disprove

any of the ancient Philosophers, but rather confirm their Writings, and

supply those things, which they have omitted: seeing that Philosophers

themselves were but men, they could not be accurate in all things,

neither is one man sufficient for all things. Miracles also have

seduced some men from the right way of Nature, as wee read happened

in _Albertus Magnus_ a most witty Philosopher; who writ, that in his

times there were grains of Gold found betwixt the teeth of a dead man

in his grave. Hee could not find out this Miracle, but judged it to be

by reason of the Minerall vertue in man being confirmed in his opinion

by that saying of _Morien_: _And this Matter, O King, is extracted from

thee_: but this is erroneous, for _Morien_ was pleased to understand

those things Philosophically. For the Minerall vertue is placed in its

own Kingdome, as the Animall is in its Kingdome, as in the book of the

Twelve Treatises wee have distinguished those Kingdomes, and divided

them into three Kingdomes; because every one of these without the

ingresse of any other thing stands in it self, and is multiplyed. It

is true indeed that in the Animall Kingdome, Mercury is as the matter,

and Sulphur as the vertue, but the Animall is not Minerall. The vertue

of the Animall Sulphur if it were not in Man, it could not congeal

the bloud Mercury into flesh, and bones: so also if there were not a

vertue of the Vegetable Sulphur in the Vegetable Kingdome, it could

not coagulate Water, or the Vegetable Mercury into Herbs, and Trees.

So also it is to bee understood in the Minerall Kingdome. These three

Mercuries doe not indeed differ in vertue, nor the three Sulphurs,

because every Sulphur hath a power to coagulate its own Mercury;

and every Mercury hath a power to bee coagulated by its owne proper

Sulphur; and by no other that is a stranger to it. Now the reason why

Gold was found, and generated betwixt the teeth of the dead man is

this, because in his life time Mercury was by some Physitian conveyed

into his infirme body, either by unction, or by Turbith, or some other

way, as the custome, and manner was, and it was the nature of Mercury

to goe up to the mouth, and through the sores thereof to be evacuated

with the flegme. If therefore in time of such a cure the sick man dyed,

that Mercury not finding any egresse, remained in his mouth betwixt his

teeth, and that carkasse became the naturall vessell of Mercury, so

being shut up fast for a long time was congealed into Gold by its own

proper Sulphur, being purified by the naturall heat of putrefaction,

caused by the corrosive phlegme of the Mans body. But if Minerall

Mercury had not been brought in thither, there could Gold never have

been produced. And this is a most true example, that Nature in the

bowells of the earth, doth of Mercury alone produce Gold, and Silver,

and other Metalls, according to the disposition of the place, or

matrix; for Mercury hath in its self its own proper Sulphur, with which

it is coagulated into Gold, unlesse it bee hindred by some accident,

or hath not a requisite heat, or a close place. The vertue therefore

of Animall Sulphur doth not congeal Mercury into Gold, but into Flesh:

for if there were such a vertue in Man, it would happen to be so in all

bodies; which it doth not. Many such miracles, and accidents fall out,

which being not well considered by the Writers, occasion the Readers to

fall into errors: yet the honest searcher must apply all things to the

possibility of Nature; if they doe not agree with Nature, they must be

let alone, and waved.

It sufficeth the diligent Student, that he hath here heard what is

the Originall of the Principles (since the beginning being unknown,

the end is alwaies doubtfull) of which wee have in this Treatise not

Ænigmatically, but as cleerly as we could, and as it was lawfull for

us, spoken unto the searcher thereof: by means of which, if God shall

enlighten any ones mind, hee shall know what a successor owes to his

predecessors, seeing this Art is alwaies acquired by the same kind

of wits, and dispositions. Which Art wee after this kind of clear

manifestation of it, lay up into the bosome of God the most high

Creator, and our Lord, and commend our selvs together with all honest

hearted Readers to his grace, and infinite mercy. To whom be praise,

and glory, for ever, and ever.

FINIS.

[Illustration: *decorative divider*]

OF THE

NATVRE

Of Things.

_THE FIRST BOOKE._

_Of the generations of Naturall things._

[Sidenote: The generation of naturall things is twofold.]

[Sidenote: All things proceed from putrefaction.]

[Sidenote: The cause of putrefaction is a moist heat.]

[Sidenote: The power and nature of putrefaction.]

[Sidenote: What putrefaction is.]

The generation of all natural things is twofold: Naturall, and without

Art; and Artificiall, _viz._ by Alchymie. Although in generall it may

bee said that all things are naturally generated of the Earth by means

of putrefaction. For Putrefaction is the chiefe degree, and first step

to Generation. Now Putrefaction is occasioned by a moist heat. For a

continuall moist heat causeth putrefaction, and changeth all naturall

things from their first form, and essence, as also their vertues,

and efficacy, into another thing. For as putrefaction in the stomach

changeth, and reduceth all meats into dung; so also putrefaction out

of the stomach in a glasse, changeth all things from one form into

another, from one essence into another, from one colour into another,

from one smell into another, from one vertue into another, from one

power into another, from one property into another, and generally

from one quality into another. For it is evident, and proved by daily

experience, that many good things, which are wholsome, and medicinable,

become after putrefaction naught, unwholsome, and meer poison. So on

the contrary, there are many bad, unwholsome, poisonous, and hurtfull

things, which after their putrefaction become good, lose all their

unwholsomnesse, and become wonderfull medicinable: because putrefaction

produceth great matters, as of this wee have a most famous example in

the holy Gospel, where Christ saith: Unlesse a grain of Wheat bee cast

into the Earth, and be putrefied, it cannot bring forth fruit in a

hundred fold. Hence also we must know, that many things are multiplyed

in putrefaction so as to bring forth excellent fruit. For putrefaction

is the change, and death of all things, and destruction of the first

essence of all Naturall things; whence there ariseth a regeneration,

and new generation a thousand times better, &c.

[Sidenote: Putrefaction is the first degree to generation.]

[Sidenote: Putrefaction is manifold.]

Seeing therefore putrefaction is the first degree, and step to

generation; it is very necessary that wee know putrefaction well. Now

there are many kinds of putrefactions, and one produceth its generation

in another manner, then doth another. One also sooner then another.

Wee said also that moisture, and heat were the first degree, and step

to putrefaction, which produceth all things, as a Hen doth her egs.

Wherefore through, and in putrefaction, all mucilaginous flegme, and

matter is made living, whatsoever it prove to be at last.

[Sidenote: An artificiall hatching of Chickens.]

An example of this you have in egs, in which there is a mucilaginous

humour, which by any kind of moderate continuall heat is putrefied, and

turned into a living Chicke, not only by the heat of the Hen, but any

such kind of heat. For in such a degree of Fire egs may be brought to

maturity in a glasse, and ashes, and become living birds: yea any man

may ripen an egge in his arm-hole, and hatch a Chicke, as well as the

Hen.

[Sidenote: The raising of a dead bird to life.]

And here wee must take notice of something that is greater, and more

then this: _viz._ if that living Chicke be in a vessell of glasse

like a gourd, and sealed up, burnt to powder, or ashes in the third

degree of Fire, and afterward so closed in, be putrefied with the

exactest putrefaction of Horse-dung, into a mucilaginous flegm, then

that flegm may be brought to maturity, and become a renewed, and new

made Chicke: to wit, if that flegm bee againe inclosed in its former

shell, or receptacle. This is to revive the dead by regeneration, and

clarification, which indeed is a great, and profound miracle of Nature.

According to this processe may all Birds bee killed, and made alive

againe, and made new: and this is the highest, and greatest miracle,

and mystery of God, which hee ever discovered to mortall man.

[Sidenote: The Artificiall generation of Man.]

Wee must also know that after this manner men may bee generated without

naturall Father, or Mother, _i.e._ not of a Woman in a naturall way:

but by the Art, and industry of a skilfull Alchymist may a Man bee

borne, and grow, as afterwards shall bee shewed.

[Sidenote: The generation of men by brutes.]

[Sidenote: As the seed is, so is the fruit.]

It is possible also that men may be born of beasts, according to

naturall causes, but yet this cannot bee done without much impiety, and

heresie; to wit, if a man should couple with a beast, and that beast

should, as a woman doth, receive the Sperm of the man, with desire and

lust into her matrix, and conceive: then the sperm doth of necessity

putrefie, and by the continual heat of the body, a man, and not a beast

is thence produced. For alwaies as the seed is that is sown, so also

is the fruit that is brought forth; and unlesse it should be so, it

would be contrary to the light of Nature, and to Philosophy. Wherefore

as is the seed, such is the hearb that springs from thence. So of the

Seed of an Onyon is brought forth an Onyon, not a Rose, nor a Nut, not

a Lettuce. So of Corne, Corn is brought forth, of Barley, Barley; of

Oats, Oats: and so it is with all other fruits, which have seed, and

are sown, &c.

[Sidenote: The force of womens imagination.]

In like manner also it is possible, and not contrary to Nature, that

an irrationall bruit should bee produced by a woman, and a man.

Neither are wee to judge of, or censure the woman, as the man, (as

in the former case) shee therefore is not to bee accounted impious,

or hereticall, as if shee acted contrary to Nature, but it is to be

imputed to her imagination. For her imagination is alwaies the cause of

it. And the imagination of a breeding woman is so powerful, that in

conceiving the seed into her body, shee may change her infant divers

wayes: because her inward starres are so strongly bent upon the infant,

that they beget an impression, and influence upon it. Wherefore the

infant in the Mothers wombe in its forming is put into the hand, and

will of its Mother, as clay in the hand of the Potter, who thence

frames, and makes what his will, and pleasure is: so the Woman that is

breeding, forms the fruit in her body, according to her imagination,

and her starres. Therefore it often falls out, that of the seed of a

man, Cattle, and other horrid Monsters are begot, according as the

imagination of the Mother is strongly directed upon the Embryo, &c.

A New Light of Alchymie Taken out of the Fountaine of Nature, and Manuall Experience. Etc. · 第 9 / 21 段