invited to take a professorship of physic, medicine, and surgery at the
University of Basel, then illuminated by the presence of Erasmus and
Oporinus. There, in his lectures, he professed “internal medicine,”
denounced the antiquated systems of Galen and other authorities, and
began his instruction by burning the works of these masters in a brass
pan with sulphur and nitre. He created innumerable enemies by his
arrogance and his innovations, but the value of his mineral medicines
was proved by the cures which he performed. These cures only increased
the hatred of his persecutors, and Paracelsus with characteristic
defiance invited the faculty to a lecture, in which he promised to
teach the greatest secret in medicine. He began by uncovering a dish
which contained excrement. The doctors, indignant at the insult,
departed precipitately, Paracelsus shouting after them:--“If you will
not hear the mysteries of putrefactive fermentation, you are unworthy
of the name of physicians.” Subsequently, he came into conflict with
the municipal authorities, and was forced to flee from Basel. He
resumed his strolling life, lodging at public inns, drinking to excess,
but still performing admirable cures. Oporinus testifies that even
during the period of his professorship he never seemed sober.
In 1528, Paracelsus proceeded to Colmar. In 1530 he was staying at
Nuremberg, where the faculty denounced him as an impostor, but he
transfixed his opponents by curing in a few days some desperate cases
of elephantiasis. “Testimonials to this effect,” says Hartmann, his
latest biographer, “may still be found in the archives of the city of
Nuremberg.” He continued his wanderings and his intemperate manner of
life, dying on the 24th of September 1541.
The actual manner of his death has been variously recounted. The
original “Lives of Alchemysticall Philosophers” says that it occurred
on a bench of the kitchen fire of the inn at Strasburg. Dr Hartmann, on
the other hand, tells us that he “went to Maehren, Kaernthen, Krain,
and Hongary, and finally landed in Salzburg, to which place he was
invited by the Prince Palatine, Duke Ernst of Bavaria, who was a great
lover of the secret arts. In that place, Paracelsus obtained at last
the fruits of his long labours and of a wide-spread fame. But he was
not destined to enjoy a long time the rest he so richly deserved....
He died, after a short sickness (at the age of forty-eight years and
three days), in a small room of the ‘White Horse’ Inn, near the quay,
and his body was buried in the graveyard of St Sebastian.” His death is
supposed to have been hastened by a scuffle with assassins in the pay
of the orthodox medical faculty.
The last commentator on Paracelsus, Dr Franz Hartmann, has devoted a
chapter to the alchemical and astrological teachings of the seer of
Hohenheim. The first art, according to Paracelsus, separates the pure
from the impure, and develops species out of primordial matter. It
perfects what Nature has left imperfect, and, therefore, its principles
are of universal application, and are not restricted to the metallic
and mineral kingdoms. Gold can be made by physical chemistry, but the
process is poor and unproductive in comparison with the gold which can
be produced by an exercise of the occult powers which exist in the soul
of man. Actual and material gold can be psycho-chemically manufactured.
By this amazing theory, Paracelsus created a new school of alchemy,
which abandoned experimental research, and sought within themselves the
secret, subject, and end of alchemystical philosophy.
DENIS ZACHAIRE.
It appears that the true name of this persevering and indefatigable
seeker after the end and truth of alchemy has not in reality come down
to us, that which is placed at the head of his _Opusculum Chimicum_
being simply pseudonymous. It is to this little work that we are
indebted for one of the most singular histories in the annals of the
Hermetic art.
Denis Zachaire was born of a noble family, in an unmentioned part of
Guienne, during the year 1510. He was sent, as a youth, to Bordeaux,
under the care of a tutor, to prosecute the study of philosophy and
_belles lettres_. His preceptor, however, had a passion for alchemy,
and inoculated his pupil with the fatal fever of the sages. They
speedily abandoned the common academical courses for the thorny
pathways of the _magnum opus_, and Denis, in particular, devoted
himself to the assiduous compilation of a vast volume of Hermetic
receipts, indicating a thousand processes, with a thousand various
materials, for the successful manufacture of gold. From Bordeaux he
proceeded to Toulouse, still in the society of his tutor, and for the
ostensible study of law, but in reality for the experimental practice
of alchemy. Two hundred crowns with which they were supplied for their
maintenance during the next two years were speedily expended in the
purchase of furnaces, instruments, and drugs, for the literal execution
of the processes contained in the books of the adepts.
“Before the end of the year,” as he himself informs us, “my two hundred
crowns were gone in smoke, and my tutor died of a fever he took in
summer from his close attention to the furnace, which he erected in
his chamber, and stayed there continually in extreme heat. His death
afflicted me much, and still more as my parents refused to supply
me with money, except what was just necessary for my support. I was
therefore unable to proceed in my grand work.
“To overcome these difficulties I went home in 1535, being of age, to
put myself out of guardianship; and I disposed of some of my property
for four hundred crowns. This sum was necessary to execute a process
which was given me in Toulouse, by an Italian, who said he saw it
proved. I kept him living with me, to see the end of his process.
“We dissolved gold and silver in various sorts of strong waters, but
it was all in vain; we did not recover from the solution one half of
the gold and silver which we had put into it. My four hundred crowns
were reduced to two hundred and thirty, of which I gave twenty to the
Italian, to proceed to Milan, where, he said, the author of the process
lived, and whence he would return with his explanations. I remained at
Toulouse all the winter, awaiting him, and I might have tarried there
still, as I never have heard of him since.
“In the ensuing summer the city being visited by the plague, I went
to Cahors, and there continued for six months. I did not lose sight
of my work, and became acquainted with an old man who was called
the philosopher, a name given in the country to any one of superior
information. I communicated to him my practices and asked his advice.
He mentioned ten or twelve processes which he thought better than
others. I returned to Toulouse when the plague ceased, and renewed my
labours accordingly. The only consequence was that my money was all
spent, except one hundred and seventy crowns. To continue my operations
with more certainty, I made acquaintance with an abbé, who dwelt in
the neighbourhood of this city. He was taken with a passion for the
same pursuit as myself, and he informed me that one of his friends, who
lived with Cardinal Armanac, had sent him a process from Rome which
he believed genuine, but it would cost two hundred crowns. I agreed
to furnish one half of this sum, and he gave the rest, so we began to
work together. Our process required a large supply of spirits of wine.
I purchased a cask of excellent wine, from which I drew the spirit and
rectified it many times. We took two pounds weight of it and half a
pound weight of gold, which we had calcined for a month. These were
included in a pelican and placed in a furnace. This work lasted a year,
but, not to remain idle, we made some other experiments to amuse
ourselves, and from which we expected to draw sufficient profit to pay
the cost of our great work.
“The year 1537 passed over without any change appearing in the subject
of our labours. We might have remained through our whole lives in
the same state, for we should have known that the perfect metals are
unaltered by vegetable or animal substances. We took out our powder and
made projection upon hot quicksilver, but it was in vain! Judge then of
our grief, especially as the abbé had notified to all his monks that
they would have to melt the lead cistern of their house in order that
he might convert it into gold as soon as our operations were finished.
“My bad success could not make me desist. I again raised four hundred
crowns on my property; the abbé did the same, and I set out for Paris,
a city containing more alchemists than any other in the world. I
resolved to remain there as long as the eight hundred crowns lasted, or
until I succeeded in my object. This journey drew on me the displeasure
of my relations, and the censure of my friends, who imagined I was a
studious lawyer. However, I made them believe that the design of my
sojourn in Paris was the purchase of a situation in the law courts.
“After travelling for fifteen days I arrived at Paris in January
1539. I remained a month almost unknown, but no sooner had I visited
the furnace makers and conversed with some amateurs than I became
acquainted with more than a hundred artists, who were all at work in
different ways. Some laboured to extract the mercury of metals and
afterwards to fix it. A variety of systems were held by others, and
scarcely a day passed in which some of them did not visit me, even on
Sundays and the most sacred festivals of the Church, to hear what I had
done.
“In these conversations one said:--‘If I had the means to begin again,
I should produce something good.’ Another--‘Would that my vessel
had been strong enough to resist the force of what it contained.’
Another--‘If I had possessed a round copper vessel well closed, I would
have fixed mercury with silver.’ There was not one without a reasonable
excuse for his failure, but I was deaf to all their discourses,
recollecting my experience as the dupe of similar expectations.
“I was tempted, nevertheless, by a Greek who had a process with
cinnabar, which failed. At the same time I became acquainted with a
strange gentleman, newly arrived, who often, in my presence, sold
the fruit of his operations to the goldsmiths. I was a long time
frequenting his company, but he did not consent to inform me of his
secret. At last I prevailed over him, but it was only a refinement
of metals more ingenious than the rest. I failed not to write to the
abbé, at Toulouse, enclosing a copy of the process of the stranger, and
imagining that I had attained some useful knowledge, he advised me to
remain another year at Paris, since I had made so good a beginning.
“After all, as to the philosophers’ stone, I succeeded no better than
before. I had been three years at Paris, and my money was nearly
expended, when I had a letter from the abbé, informing me that he
had something to communicate, and that I should join him as soon as
possible.
“On my arrival at Toulouse, I found that he had a letter from King
Henry of Navarre, who was a lover of philosophy, and who requested
that I should proceed to Pau, in Berne, to teach him the secret I
had received from the stranger at Paris. He would recompense me with
three or four thousand crowns. The mention of this sum exhilarated the
abbé, and he never let me rest till I set out to wait on the prince.
I arrived at Pau in May 1542. I found the prince a very curious
personage. By his command I went to work, and succeeded according
to the process I knew. When it was finished I obtained the expected
recompense, but although the king wished to serve me further, he was
dissuaded by the lords of his court, even by those who had engaged me
to come to him. He dismissed me with great acknowledgments, desiring
me to see if there was anything in his estates which would gratify me,
such as confiscations or the like, and that he would give them to me
with pleasure. These promises, which meant nothing, did not lead me
to entertain the hopes of a courtier, and I returned to the abbé at
Toulouse.
“On my road I heard of a religious man, who was very skilful in natural
philosophy. I went to visit him; he lamented my misfortunes, and said,
with a friendly zeal, that he advised me to amuse myself no longer
with these various particular operations, which were all false and
sophistical, but that I should rather peruse _the best books of the
ancient philosophers_, as well to know _the true matter_ as the _right
order that should be pursued_ in the practice of this science.
“I felt the truth of this safe counsel, but before I put it in
execution, I went to see my friend at Toulouse, to give him an account
of the eight hundred crowns that we had put in common, and to divide
with him the recompense I had received from the King of Navarre. If
he proved not content with all I told him, he was still less so at
the resolution I had taken to discontinue my operations. Of our eight
hundred crowns, we had but eighty-six left. I departed from him, and
returned home, intending to go to Paris, and there remain until I was
fixed in my theory of reading the works of the adepts. I reached Paris
in 1546, and remained there a year, assiduously studying the _Turba
Philosophorum_, the good Trévisan, the “Remonstrance of Nature,” and
some other of the best books. But as I had no _first principles_, I
knew not on what to determine.
“At length I went out of my solitude, not to see my old acquaintances,
the searchers after particular tinctures and minor works, but to
frequent those who proceeded in the great process by the books of
the genuine adepts. I was, nevertheless, disappointed herein, by
the confusion and disagreement of their theories, by the variety of
their works, and of their different operations. Excited by a sort of
inspiration, I gave myself up to the study of Raymond Lully and Arnold
de Villa Nova. My reading and meditation continued another year. I
then _formed my plan_, and only waited to sell the remainder of my
land to enable me to go home, and put my resolution into practice.
I commenced at Christmas, 1549, and after some preparations, having
procured everything that was necessary, I began my process, not without
inquietude and difficulty. A friend said to me:--“What are you going
to do? have you not lost enough by this delusion?” Another assured me
that if I continued to purchase so much coal, I should be suspected of
counterfeiting coin, of which he had already heard a rumour. Another
said I ought to follow my business of a lawyer. But I was chiefly
tormented by my relations, who reproached me bitterly with my conduct,
and threatened to bring the officers of justice into my house to break
my furnaces in pieces.
“I leave you to judge my trouble and grief at this opposition. I
found no consolation but in my work, which prospered from day to day,
and to which I was very attentive. The interruption of all commerce,
which was occasioned by the plague, gave me the opportunity of great
solitude, in which I could examine with undisturbed satisfaction the
success of the three colours which mark the true work. I thus arrived
at the perfection of the tincture, and made an essay of its virtue on
common quicksilver, on Easter Monday, 1550. In less than an hour it
was converted into pure gold. You may guess how joyful I was, but I
took care not to boast. I thanked God for the favour he shewed me, and
prayed that I should be permitted to use it but for His glory.
“The next day I set out to find the abbé, according to the promise we
gave each other, to communicate our discoveries. On my way, I called at
the house of the religious man who had assisted me by his good advice.
I had the grief to find that both he and the abbé had been dead about
six months. I did not go back to my house, but sought another place,
to await the arrival of one of my relations whom I had left at my
dwelling. I sent him a procuration to sell all that I possessed, both
house and furniture, to pay my debts, and to distribute the remainder
among those of my relations who were in want. He soon after rejoined
me, and we set out for Lausanne, in Switzerland, resolved to pass our
days without ostentation in some of the celebrated cities of Germany.”
In his unknown retreat[V] the adept recorded his adventures and
experiences when in search of the philosophical stone, _ut divertarem
bonos piosque vivos, à sophisticationibus, ad viam rectam perfectionis
in hoc opere divino_. His little work is entitled simply _Opusculum
Chemicum_; it opens with the romantic narrative which I have cited
almost _in extenso_. It calls Hermes _magnus propheta noster_, insists
that the art is the gift of God alone on the authority of all the
initiates, and quotes so largely from previous writers that it can
scarcely be considered an original work on the Hermetic philosophy.
The life of Bernard Trévisan has abundantly testified to the physical
nature of his object, which is amply confirmed by this treatise. The
methods of projection upon metals, the composition of precious stones,
and the application of the tincture as a medicine for the human body,
are successively considered. One grain of the _divinum opus_, dissolved
in white wine, transmutes that liquor into a rich citron colour, and
has innumerable hygienic uses.
FOOTNOTES:
[V] See Appendix I.
BERIGARD OF PISA.
The following account of a transmutation performed by himself, is
recorded by the celebrated Italian philosopher, Claude Berigard, and
will be found on the twenty-fifth page of his _Circulus Pisanus_,
published at Florence in 1641.
“I did not think that it was possible to convert quicksilver into gold,
but an acquaintance thought proper to remove my doubt. He gave me about
a drachm of a powder nearly of the colour of the wild poppy, and having
a smell like calcined sea-salt. To avoid all imposition, I purchased a
crucible, charcoal, and quicksilver, in which I was certain that there
was no gold mixed. Ten drachms of quicksilver which I heated on the
fire were on projection transmuted into nearly the same weight of good
gold, which stood all tests. Had I not performed this operation in the
most careful manner, taking every precaution against the possibility of
doubt, I should not have believed it, but I am satisfied of the fact.”
CHARNOCK.
Thomas Charnock was born in the Isle of Thanet, in the year 1524.
He calls himself an unlettered scholar, and student in astronomy
and philosophy. He practised surgery, and, though he knew only the
rudiments of Latin, it appears that he was famous in the neighbourhood
of Salisbury, where he had established himself, for his accomplishments
in the liberal sciences. He had two masters in alchemy, the first
being Sir James S----, a priest, dwelling in the cloisters, near
Salisbury, who informed Charnock that he did not derive his knowledge
from any living adept, but that by meditation upon the words of the
philosophers, he had mastered the principal secrets of alchemy as he
lay in his bed, and had accordingly succeeded in making the silver
powder.
The other master who instructed Charnock was a blind man, led by
a boy, whom the neophyte accidentally discovered at an inn among
other travellers, by a few words of the occult chemistry, which he
perceived in his conversation. As soon as the company had retired,
Charnock questioned the speaker, and requested instruction in natural
philosophy. To this the adept objected that he was unacquainted with
his interrogator, saying he would render up his knowledge to God who
gave it, if he did not meet with a certain Master Charnock, the fame of
whose learning and charity had reached him.
At these words Charnock made himself known, and the old man discoursed
with him for an hour, during which time he found him expert in many
mysteries of the sacred science. He promised Charnock that if he made a
vow not to reveal the secret for gold, preferment, or through affection
for great men, but only at death to one who was truly devoted to the
search into nature, he would make him the heir of his knowledge.
Accordingly, on the following Sunday they received the Eucharist
together, and then, withdrawing into the middle of a large field, the
boy was sent away out of hearing, and, in a few words, the blind man
uttered “the mystery of mineral prudence.” Their conversations were
continued for nine days. The secrets of alchemy were disclosed, and
the adept also related his own private history, acquainting Charnock
that his name was William Bird, that he had been a prior of Bath, and
had defrayed the expense of repairing the abbey church from treasure
which he had acquired by means of the red and white elixirs. At the
suppression of the abbey, he concealed the inestimable powder in the
wall, and returning in ten days it was gone. He found a few rags in the
place where he had left it. This misfortune almost deprived him of his
senses; he wandered about, and lost his sight. He was therefore unable
to repeat his process, and continued to travel over the country, led by
a boy. He had received his Hermetic knowledge from a servant of Ripley.
At the time of this communication, Charnock was twenty-eight years
old, and two years after his first master fell sick while attending
his furnace for the completion of the red stone. He sent for Charnock,
made him the heir of his work, and died after giving him instructions
how to proceed. Charnock began his operations on the materials left by
his leader, and was much perplexed by the difficulty of keeping the
fire equal. He often started out of his sleep to examine the fuel; but
after all his care, which continued during the space of several months,
the frame of wood that covered the furnace took fire during a short
period of his absence, and when, smelling the burning, he ran up to his
laboratory, he discovered that his work was completely destroyed. This
occurred on January 1, 1555. To repair the mischief he was obliged to
recommence at the first part of the process, and he hired a servant to
assist in taking care of the fire. In the course of two months certain
signs filled him with hopes of success, when his dependence on his
servant proved the ruin of his work. He discovered that this unfaithful
assistant would let the fire nearly out, and then, to conceal his
neglect, would rekindle it with grease till it was so hot as to scorch
the matter beyond recovery.
In the third attempt, Charnock resolved to proceed without help. His
fire cost him three pounds a week, and he was obliged to sell some
rings and jewels to maintain it. He made good progress in the course
of eight months, and expected to be rewarded in a little time for all
his labours; but at this critical period he was impressed to serve as
a soldier at the siege of Calais. Furious with disappointment, he took
a hatchet, smashed his glasses, furnace, and apparatus, and threw them
out of the house.
He wrote his “Breviary of Philosophy” in 1557, and the “Enigma of
Alchemy” in 1572, with a memorandum, dated 1574, when he was fifty
years old. Therein he declares his attainment of the gold-producing
powder when his hairs were white. The “Breviary” claims to describe
all the vessels and instruments which are required in the science; a
potter, a joiner, and a glassmaker must lend their several services.
The address of one of these artificers, specially recommended by the
author, is said to be Chiddinfold in Sussex; he could manufacture
egg-shaped glasses which opened and shut “as close as a hair.” The
regulation of the philosophical fire is described in this curious poem,
but the rest of its information is of a purely autobiographical kind.
GIOVANNI BRACCESCO.
This alchemist of Brescia flourished in the sixteenth century. He was
the author of a commentary on Geber, which is not supposed to cast
much light on the obscurities of the Arabian philosopher. The most
curious of his original treatises is _Legno della Vita, vel quale
si dichiara la medecina per la quale i nostri primi padri vivevano
nove cento anni_, Rome, 1542, 8vo.--“The Wood of Life, wherein is
revealed the medicine by means of which our Primeval Ancestors lived
for Nine Hundred Years.” This work, together with _La Esposizione
di Geber Filosophe_, Venice, 1544, 8vo, was translated into Latin,
and may be found in the collections of Gratarole and Mangetus. They
were also published separately under the title _De Alchimia dialogi
duo_, Lugd., 1548, 4to. The Wood of Life is one of the innumerable
names given by the alchemists to the matured and perfected stone, the
composition whereof is the accomplishment of the _magnum opus_. It is
more generally denominated the Universal Balsam or Panacea, which cures
all diseases and insures to its most blessed possessor an unalterable
youth. The name Wood of Life is bestowed by the Jews on the two sticks
which confine the scroll of the Law. They are convinced that a simple
contact with these sacred rods strengthens the eyesight and restores
health. They also hold that there is no better means of facilitating
the _accouchement_ of females than to cause them to behold these
vitalising sticks, which, however, they are in no wise permitted to
touch.[W]