THE ALCHEMICAL ESSENCE.
In the last chapter I tried to describe the alchemical view of the
interdependence of different substances. Taking for granted the
tripartite nature of man, the co-existence in him of body, soul, and
spirit (no one of which was defined), the alchemists concluded that
all things are formed as man is formed; that in everything there is a
specific bodily form, some portion of soul, and a dash of spirit. I
considered the term _soul_ to be the alchemical name for the
properties common to a class of substances, and the term _spirit_ to
mean the property which was thought by the alchemists to be common to
all things.
The alchemists considered it possible to arrange all substances in
four general classes, the marks whereof were expressed by the terms
hot, cold, moist, and dry; they thought of these properties as
typified by what they called the four Elements--fire, air, water, and
earth. Everything, they taught, was produced from the four Elements,
not immediately, but through the mediation of the three
Principles--mercury, sulphur, and salt. These Principles were regarded
as the tools put into the hands of him who desired to effect the
transmutation of one substance into another. The Principles were not
thought of as definite substances, nor as properties of this or that
specified substance; they were considered to be the characteristic
properties of large classes of substances.
The chemist of to-day places many compounds in the same class because
all are acids, because all react similarly under similar conditions.
It used to be said that every acid possesses more or less of _the
principle of acidity_. Lavoisier changed the language whereby certain
facts concerning acids were expressed. He thought that experiments
proved all acids to be compounds of the element oxygen; and for many
years after Lavoisier, the alchemical expression _the principle of
acidity_ was superseded by the word _oxygen_. Although Lavoisier
recognised that not every compound of oxygen is an acid, he taught
that every acid is a compound of oxygen. We know now that many acids
are not compounds of oxygen, but we have not yet sufficient knowledge
to frame a complete definition of the term _acid_. Nevertheless it is
convenient, indeed it is necessary, to place together many compounds
which react similarly under certain defined conditions, and to give a
common name to them all. The alchemists also classified substances,
but their classification was necessarily more vague than ours; and
they necessarily expressed their reasons for putting different
substances in the same class in a language which arose out of the
general conceptions of natural phenomena which prevailed in their
time.
The primary classification of substances made by the alchemists was
expressed by saying; these substances are rich in the principle
_sulphur_, those contain much of the principle _mercury_, and this
class is marked by the preponderance of the principle _salt_. The
secondary classification of the alchemists was expressed by saying;
this class is characterised by dryness, that by moisture, another by
coldness, and a fourth by hotness; the dry substances contain much of
the element _Earth_, the moist substances are rich in the element
_Water_, in the cold substances the element _Air_ preponderates, and
the hot substances contain more of the element _Fire_ than of the
other elements.
The alchemists went a step further in their classification of things.
They asserted that there is One Thing present in all things; that
everything is a vehicle for the more or less perfect exhibition of the
properties of the One Thing; that there is a Primal Element common to
all substances. The final aim of alchemy was to obtain the One Thing,
the Primal Element, the Soul of all Things, so purified, not only from
all specific substances, but also from all admixture of the four
Elements and the three Principles, as to make possible the
accomplishment of any transmutation by the use of it.
If a person ignorant of its powers were to obtain the Essence, he
might work vast havoc and cause enormous confusion; it was necessary,
therefore, to know the conditions under which the potencies of the
Essence became active. Hence there was need of prolonged study of the
mutual actions of the most seemingly diverse substances, and of minute
and patient examination of the conditions under which nature performs
her marvellous transmutations. The quest of the One Thing was fraught
with peril, and was to be attempted only by those who had served a
long and laborious apprenticeship.
In _The Chemical Treatise of Thomas Norton, the Englishman, called
Believe-me, or the Ordinal of Alchemy_ (15th century), the adept is
warned not to disclose his secrets to ordinary people.
"You should carefully test and examine the life, character, and mental
aptitudes of any person who would be initiated in this Art, and then
you should bind him, by a sacred oath, not to let our Magistery be
commonly or vulgarly known. Only when he begins to grow old and
feeble, he may reveal it to one person, but not to more, and that one
man must be virtuous.... If any wicked man should learn to practise
the Art, the event would be fraught with great danger to Christendom.
For such a man would overstep all bounds of moderation, and would
remove from their hereditary thrones those legitimate princes who rule
over the peoples of Christendom."
The results of the experimental examination of the compositions and
properties of substances, made since the time of the alchemists, have
led to the modern conception of the chemical element, and the
isolation of about seventy or eighty different elements. No substance
now called an element has been produced in the laboratory by uniting
two, or more, distinct substances, nor has any been separated into
two, or more, unlike portions. The only decided change which a
chemical element has been caused to undergo is the combination of it
with some other element or elements, or with a compound or compounds.
But it is possible that all the chemical elements may be combinations
of different quantities of one primal element. Certain facts make this
supposition tenable; and some chemists expect that the supposition
will be proved to be correct. If the hypothetical primal element
should be isolated, we should have fulfilled the aim of alchemy, and
gained the One Thing; but the fulfilment would not be that whereof the
alchemists dreamed.
Inasmuch as the alchemical Essence was thought of as the Universal
Spirit to whose presence is due whatever degree of perfection any
specific substance exhibits, it followed that the more perfect a
substance the greater is the quantity of the Essence in it. But even
in the most perfect substance found in nature--which substance, the
alchemists said, is gold--the Essence is hidden by wrappings of
specific properties which prevent the ordinary man from recognising
it. Remove these wrappings from some special substance, and you have
the perfect form of that thing; you have some portion of the Universal
Spirit joined to the one general property of the class of things
whereof the particular substance is a member. Then remove the
class-property, often spoken of by the alchemists as _the life_, of
the substance, and you have the Essence itself.
The alchemists thought that to every thing, or at any rate to every
class of things, there corresponds a more perfect form than that which
we see and handle; they spoke of gold, and the _gold of the Sages_;
mercury, and the _mercury of the Philosophers_; sulphur, and the
_heavenly sulphur of him whose eyes are opened_.
To remove the outer wrappings of ordinary properties which present
themselves to the untrained senses, was regarded by the alchemists to
be a difficult task; to tear away the soul (the class-property) of a
substance, and yet retain the Essence which made that substance its
dwelling place, was possible only after vast labour, and by the use of
the proper agent working under the proper conditions. An exceedingly
powerful, delicate, and refined agent was needed; and the mastery of
the agent was to be acquired by bitter experience, and, probably,
after many disappointments.
"Gold," an alchemist tells us, "does not easily give up its nature,
and will fight for its life; but our agent is strong enough to
overcome and kill it, and then it also has the power to restore it to
life, and to change the lifeless remains into a new and pure body."
Thomas Norton, the author of _The Ordinal of Alchemy_, writing in the
15th century, says the worker in transmutations is often tempted to be
in a hurry, or to despair, and he is often deceived. His servants will
be either stupid and faithful, or quick-witted and false. He may be
robbed of everything when his work is almost finished. The only
remedies are infinite patience, a sense of virtue, and sound reason.
"In the pursuit of our Art," he says, "you should take care, from time
to time, to unbend your mind from its sterner employments with some
convenient recreation."
The choice of workmen to aid in the mechanical parts of the quest was
a great trouble to the alchemists. On this subject Norton says--"If
you would be free from all fear over the gross work, follow my
counsel, and never engage married men; for they soon give in and
pretend they are tired out.... Hire your workmen for certain
stipulated wages, and not for longer periods than twenty-four hours at
a time. Give them higher wages than they would receive elsewhere, and
be prompt and ready in your payments."
Many accounts are given by alchemical writers of the agent, and many
names are bestowed on it. The author of _A Brief Guide to the
Celestial Ruby_ speaks thus of the agent--"It is our doorkeeper, our
balm, our honey, oil, urine, maydew, mother, egg, secret furnace,
oven, true fire, venomous dragon, Theriac, ardent wine, Green Lion,
Bird of Hermes, Goose of Hermogenes, two-edged sword in the hand of
the Cherub that guards the Tree of Life.... It is our true secret
vessel, and the Garden of the Sages in which our sun rises and sets.
It is our Royal Mineral, our triumphant vegetable Saturnia, and the
magic rod of Hermes, by means of which he assumes any shape he likes."
Sometimes we are told that the agent is mercury, sometimes that it is
gold, but not common mercury or common gold. "Supplement your common
mercury with the inward fire which it needs, and you will soon get rid
of all superfluous dross." "The agent is gold, as highly matured as
natural and artificial digestion can make it, and a thousand times
more perfect than the common metal of that name. Gold, thus exalted,
radically penetrates, tinges, and fixes metals."
The alchemists generally likened the work to be performed by their
agent to the killing of a living thing. They constantly use the
allegory of death, followed by resurrection, in describing the steps
whereby the Essence was to be obtained, and the processes whereby the
baser metals were to be partially purified. They speak of the
mortification of metals, the dissolution and putrefaction of
substances, as preliminaries to the appearance of the true life of the
things whose outward properties have been destroyed. For instance,
Paracelsus says: "Destruction perfects that which is good; for the
good cannot appear on account of that which conceals it." The same
alchemist speaks of rusting as the mortification of metals; he says:
"The mortification of metals is the removal of their bodily
structure.... The mortification of woods is their being turned into
charcoal or ashes."
Paracelsus distinguishes natural from artificial mortification,
"Whatever nature consumes," he says, "man cannot restore. But whatever
man destroys man can restore, and break again when restored." Things
which had been mortified by man's device were considered by Paracelsus
not to be really dead. He gives this extraordinary illustration of his
meaning: "You see this is the case with lions, which are all born
dead, and are first vitalised by the horrible noise of their parents,
just as a sleeping person is awakened by a shout."
The mortification of metals is represented in alchemical books by
various images and allegories. Fig. I. is reduced from a cut in a 16th
century work, _The Book of Lambspring, a noble ancient Philosopher,
concerning the Philosophical Stone_.
[Illustration: Here the father devours the son;
The soul and spirit flow forth from the body.
FIG. I.]
The image used to set forth the mortification of metals is a king
swallowing his son. Figs. II. and III. are reduced from Basil
Valentine's _Twelve Keys_. Both of these figures represent the process
of mortification by images connected with death and burial.
[Illustration: FIG. II.]
In his explanation (?) of these figures, Basil Valentine says:--
"Neither human nor animal bodies can be multiplied or propagated
without decomposition; the grain and all vegetable seed, when cast
into the ground, must decay before it can spring up again;
moreover, putrefaction imparts life to many worms and other
animalculæ.... If bread is placed in honey, and suffered to decay,
ants are generated ... maggots are also developed by the decay of
nuts, apples, and pears. The same thing may be observed in regard
to vegetable life. Nettles and other weeds spring up where no such
seed has ever been sown. This occurs only by putrefaction. The
reason is that the soil in such places is so disposed, and, as it
were, impregnated, that it produces these fruits; which is a
result of the properties of sidereal influences; consequently the
seed is spiritually produced in the earth, and putrefies in the
earth, and by the operation of the elements generates corporeal
matter according to the species of nature. Thus the stars and the
elements may generate new spiritual, and ultimately, new vegetable
seed, by means of putrefaction.... Know that, in like manner, no
metallic seed can develop, or multiply, unless the said seed, by
itself alone, and without the introduction of any foreign
substance, be reduced to a perfect putrefaction."
[Illustration: FIG. III.]
The action of the mineral agent in perfecting substances is often
likened by the alchemists to the conjoining of the male and the
female, followed by the production of offspring. They insist on the
need of a union of two things, in order to produce something more
perfect than either. The agent, they say, must work upon something;
alone it is nothing.
The methods whereby the agent is itself perfected, and the processes
wherein the agent effects the perfecting of the less perfect things,
were divided into stages by the alchemists. They generally spoke of
these stages as _Gates_, and enumerated ten or sometimes twelve of
them. As examples of the alchemical description of these gates, I give
some extracts from _A Brief Guide to the Celestial Ruby_.
The first gate is _Calcination_, which is "the drying up of the
humours"; by this process the substance "is concocted into a black
powder which is yet unctuous, and retains its radical humour." When
gold passes through this gate, "We observe in it two natures, the
fixed and the volatile, which we liken to two serpents." The fixed
nature is likened to a serpent without wings; the volatile, to a
serpent with wings: calcination unites these two into one. The second
gate, _Dissolution_, is likened to death and burial; but the true
Essence will appear glorious and beautiful when this gate is passed.
The worker is told not to be discouraged by this apparent death. _The
mercury of the sages_ is spoken of by this author as the queen, and
gold as the king. The king dies for love of the queen, but he is
revived by his spouse, who is made fruitful by him and brings forth "a
most royal son."
Figs. IV. and V. are reduced from _The Book of Lambspring_; they
express the need of the conjunction of two to produce one.
[Illustration: Here you behold a great marvel--
Two Lions are joined into one.
The spirit and soul must be united in their body.
FIG. IV.]
After dissolution came _Conjunction_, wherein the separated elements
were combined. Then followed _Putrefaction_, necessary for the
germination of the seed which had been produced by calcination,
dissolution, and conjunction. Putrefaction was followed by
_Congelation_ and _Citation_. The passage through the next gate,
called _Sublimation_, caused the body to become spiritual, and the
spiritual to be made corporal. _Fermentation_ followed, whereby the
substance became soft and flowed like wax. Finally, by _Exaltation_,
the Stone was perfected.
[Illustration: Here are two birds, great and strong--the body and
spirit; one devours the other.
Let the body be placed in horse-dung, or a warm bath,
the spirit having been extracted from it. The body has
become white by the process, the spirit red by our art.
All that exists tends towards perfection, and thus is
the Philosopher's Stone prepared.
FIG. V.]
The author of _The Open Entrance_ speaks of the various stages in the
perfecting of the agent as _regimens_. The beginning of the heating
of gold with mercury is likened to the king stripping off his golden
garments and descending into the fountain; this is the _regimen of
Mercury_. As the heating is continued, all becomes black; this is the
_regimen of Saturn_. Then is noticed a play of many colours; this is
the _regimen of Jupiter_: if the heat is not regulated properly, "the
young ones of the crow will go back to the nest." About the end of the
fourth month you will see "the sign of the waxing moon," and all
becomes white; this is the _regimen of the Moon_. The white colour
gives place to purple and green; you are now in the _regimen of
Venus_. After that, appear all the colours of the rainbow, or of a
peacock's tail; this is the _regimen of Mars_. Finally the colour
becomes orange and golden; this is the _regimen of the Sun_.
The reader may wish to have some description of the Essence. The
alchemists could describe it only in contraries. It had a bodily form,
but its method of working was spiritual. In _The Sodic Hydrolith, or
Water Stone of the Wise_ we are told:--
"The stone is conceived below the earth, born in the earth,
quickened in heaven, dies in time, and obtains eternal glory....
It is bluish-grey and green.... It flows like water, yet it makes
no wet; it is of great weight, and is small."
Philalethes says, in _A Brief Guide to the Celestial Ruby_: "The
Philosopher's Stone is a certain heavenly, spiritual, penetrative, and
fixed substance, which brings all metals to the perfection of gold or
silver (according to the quality of the Medicine), and that by natural
methods, which yet in their effects transcend Nature.... Know then
that it is called a stone, not because it is like a stone, but only
because, by virtue of its fixed nature, it resists the action of fire
as successfully as any stone. In species it is gold, more pure than
the purest; it is fixed and incombustible like a stone, but its
appearance is that of very fine powder, impalpable to the touch, sweet
to the taste, fragrant to the smell, in potency a most penetrative
spirit, apparently dry and yet unctuous, and easily capable of tinging
a plate of metal.... If we say that its nature is spiritual, it would
be no more than the truth; if we described it as corporeal, the
expression would be equally correct."
The same author says: "There is a substance of a metalline species
which looks so cloudy that the universe will have nothing to do with
it. Its visible form is vile; it defiles metalline bodies, and no one
can readily imagine that the pearly drink of bright Phoebus should
spring from thence. Its components are a most pure and tender mercury,
a dry incarcerate sulphur, which binds it and restrains fluxation....
Know this subject, it is the sure basis of all our secrets.... To deal
plainly, it is the child of Saturn, of mean price and great venom....
It is not malleable, though metalline. Its colour is sable, with
intermixed argent which mark the sable fields with veins of glittering
argent."
In trying to attach definite meanings to the alchemical accounts of
Principles, Elements, and the One Thing, and the directions which the
alchemists give for changing one substance into others, we are very
apt to be misled by the use of such an expression as _the
transmutation of the elements_. To a chemist that phrase means the
change of an element into another element, an element being a definite
substance, which no one has been able to produce by the combination of
two or more substances unlike itself, or to separate into two or more
substances unlike itself. But whatever may have been the alchemical
meaning of the word _element_, it was certainly not that given to the
same word to-day. Nor did the word _transmutation_ mean to the
alchemist what it means to the chemist.
The facts which are known at present concerning the elements make
unthinkable such a change as that of lead into silver; but new facts
_may_ be discovered which will make possible the separation of lead
into things unlike itself, and the production of silver by the
combination of some of these constituents of lead. The alchemist
supposed he knew such facts as enabled him not only to form a mental
picture of the change of lead into silver, or tin into gold, but also
to assert that such changes must necessarily happen, and to accomplish
them. Although we are quite sure that the alchemist's facts were only
imaginings, we ought not to blame him for his reasoning on what he
took to be facts.
Every metal is now said to be an element, in the modern meaning of
that word: the alchemist regarded the metals as composite substances;
but he also thought of them as more simple than many other things.
Hence, if he was able to transmute one metal into another, he would
have strong evidence in support of his general conception of the
unity of all things. And, as transmutation meant, to the alchemist,
the bringing of a substance to the condition of greatest perfection
possible for that substance, his view of the unity of nature might be
said to be proved if he succeeded in changing one of the metals, one
of these comparatively simple substances, into the most perfect of all
metals, that is, into gold.
The transmutation of the baser metals into gold thus came to be the
practical test of the justness of the alchemical scheme of things.
Some alchemists assert they had themselves performed the great
transmutation; others tell of people who had accomplished the work.
The following story is an example of the accounts given of the making
of gold. It is taken from _John Frederick Helvetius' Golden Calf,
which the world worships and adores_ (17th century):--
"On the 27th December 1666, in the forenoon, there came to my
house a certain man, who was a complete stranger to me, but of an
honest grave countenance, and an authoritative mien, clothed in a
simple garb.... He was of middle height, his face was long and
slightly pock-marked, his hair was black and straight, his chin
close-shaven, his age about forty-three or forty-four, and his
native province, as far as I could make out, North Holland. After
we had exchanged salutations, he asked me whether he might have
some conversation with me. He wished to say something to me about
the Pyrotechnic Art, as he had read one of my tracts (directed
against the Sympathetic Powder of Dr Digby), in which I hinted a
suspicion whether the Grand Arcanum of the Sages was not after all
a gigantic hoax. He, therefore, took that opportunity of asking me
whether I could not believe that such a grand mystery might exist
in the nature of things, by means of which a physician could
restore any patient whose vitals were not irreparably destroyed. I
answered, 'Such a medicine would be a most desirable acquisition
for any physician; nor can any man tell how many secrets there may
be hidden in Nature; yet, though I have read much about the truth
of this art, it has never been my good fortune to meet with a real
master of the alchemical science.' ... After some further
conversation, the Artist Elias (for it was he) thus addressed me:
'Since you have read so much in the works of the alchemists about
this stone, its substance, its colour and its wonderful effects,
may I be allowed the question, whether you have not prepared it
yourself?' On my answering his question in the negative, he took
out of his bag a cunningly-worked ivory box, in which were three
large pieces of substance resembling glass, or pale sulphur, and
informed me that here was enough of the tincture for the
production of twenty tons of gold. When I had held the precious
treasure in my hand for a quarter of an hour (during which time I
listened to a recital of its wonderful curative properties), I was
compelled to restore it to its owner, which I could not help doing
with a certain degree of reluctance.... My request that he would
give me a piece of his stone (though it were no larger than a
coriander seed), he somewhat brusquely refused, adding, in a
milder tone, that he could not give it me for all the wealth I
possessed, and that not on account of its great preciousness, but
for some other reason which it was not lawful for him to
divulge.... Then he inquired whether I could not show him into a
room at the back of the house, where we should be less liable to
the observation of passers-by. On my conducting him into the state
parlour (which he entered without wiping his dirty boots), he
demanded of me a gold coin, and while I was looking for it, he
produced from his breast pocket a green silk handkerchief, in
which were folded up five medals, the gold of which was infinitely
superior to that of my gold piece." Here follows the inscriptions
on the medals. "I was filled with admiration, and asked my visitor
whence he had obtained that wonderful knowledge of the whole
world. He replied that it was a gift freely bestowed on him by a
friend who had stayed a few days at his house." Here follows the
stranger's account of this friend's experiments. "When my strange
visitor had concluded his narrative, I besought him to give me a
proof of his assertion, by performing the transmutatory operation
on some metals in my presence. He answered evasively, that he
could not do so then, but that he would return in three weeks, and
that, if he was then at liberty to do so, he would show me
something that would make me open my eyes. He appeared punctually
to the promised day, and invited me to take a walk with him, in
the course of which we discoursed profoundly on the secrets of
Nature in fire, though I noticed that my companion was very chary
in imparting information about the Grand Arcanum.... At last I
asked him point blank to show me the transmutation of metals. I
besought him to come and dine with me, and to spend the night at
my house; I entreated; I expostulated; but in vain. He remained
firm. I reminded him of his promise. He retorted that his promise
had been conditional upon his being permitted to reveal the secret
to me. At last, however, I prevailed upon him to give me a piece
of his precious stone--a piece no larger than a grain of rape
seed.... He bid me take half an ounce of lead ... and melt it in
the crucible; for the Medicine would certainly not tinge more of
the base metal than it was sufficient for.... He promised to
return at nine o'clock the next morning.... But at the stated hour
on the following day he did not make his appearance; in his stead,
however, there came, a few hours later, a stranger, who told me
that his friend the artist was unavoidably detained, but that he
would call at three o'clock in the afternoon. The afternoon came;
I waited for him till half-past seven o'clock. He did not appear.
Thereupon my wife came and tempted me to try the transmutation
myself. I determined however to wait till the morrow. On the
morrow ... I asked my wife to put the tincture in wax, and I
myself ... prepared six drachms of lead; I then cast the tincture,
enveloped as it was in wax, on the lead; as soon as it was melted,
there was a hissing sound and a slight effervescence, and after a
quarter of an hour I found that the whole mass of lead had been
turned into the finest gold.... We immediately took it to the
goldsmith, who at once declared it the finest gold he had ever
seen, and offered to pay fifty florins an ounce for it." He then
describes various tests which were made to prove the purity of the
gold. "Thus I have unfolded to you the whole story from beginning
to end. The gold I still retain in my possession, but I cannot
tell you what has become of the Artist Elias."