Silesia, when he was visited by two strangers, one of whom was old
while the other was young. They presented him with a letter bearing
twelve seals, and addressed to Sendivogius. He declared that he was not
the person whom they sought, but was at length persuaded to open the
document, and learned that they were a deputation from the Rosicrucian
Society, who wished to initiate him. He pretended not to understand
them when they spoke of the stone of the philosophers, but they drew
him into conversation on several abstruse subjects, he, however,
declining to the last the initiation which was offered him.
Michael Sendivogius died at Parma in 1646, aged eighty-four years,
having been counsellor of state to four emperors successively. His only
daughter had married an army captain against her father’s wish. He left
her nothing but a “Treatise on the Salt of the Philosophers,” which
has never been printed, and, therefore, must not be confused with a
spurious work which has been ascribed to him under a similar title.
* * * * *
The Sethon-Sendivogius treatises are generally known under the
collective title, “A New Light of Alchemy.” They were written to
counteract the many adulterated and false receipts composed through
the fraud and covetousness of impostors. The procedure they indicate
is declared to be the result of manual experience. “Many men, both of
high and low condition, in these last years past, have to my knowledge
seen Diana unveiled. The extraction of the soul out of gold or silver,
by what vulgar way of alchymy soever, is but a mere fancy. On the
contrary, he which, in a philosophical way, can, without any fraud and
colourable deceit, make it that it shall really tinge the basest metal,
whether with gain or without gain, with the colour of gold or silver
(abiding all requisite tryals whatever), hath the gates of Nature
opened to him for the enquiring into further and higher secrets, and
with the blessing of God to obtain them.”
It is thus in the writings of the alchemists that we are continually
glimpsing or hearing of altitudes beyond transmutation, of regions of
achievement which nothing in the pages of the adepts prove them to have
actually explored, but which in possession of a comprehensive theory
of organic and inorganic development they beheld as a Promised Land.
The “New Light of Alchemy” insists on the existence of a sperm in
everything, and that all Nature originated at the beginning from one
only seed. It treats of the generation of metals and the manner of
their differentiation, of the extraction of their seed, and of the
manufacture of the stone or tincture.
FOOTNOTES:
[AF] See Desnoyer’s Letter in Langlet du Fresnoy’s _Histoire de la
Philosophie Hermétique_. Borel, in his Gallic Antiquities, recounts
that he, with many others at Paris, saw this crown-piece. He describes
it as partly gold, so far only as it was steeped in the elixir.
The gold part was porous, being specifically more compact than in
its silver state. There was no appearance of soldering, or of the
possibility of deception.
[AG] See _Vie de Sendivogius, tirée de la Rélation de Jean Bodowski_.
GUSTENHOVER.
A respectable goldsmith, named Gustenhover, resided at Strasburg
in 1603. In a time of great peril he gave shelter to a certain M.
Hirschborgen, who is described as good and religious. On leaving his
house after a considerable stay, this person presented his humane host
with some powder of projection, and then, departing on his journey, was
heard of no more.
Gustenhover imprudently made transmutations before numerous people,
and the fact was reported to the Emperor Rodolph II., himself an
amateur in alchemy. He wrote to the magistrates of Strasburg, directing
that the goldsmith should be forthwith sent to him. The order was
zealously obeyed, the man arrested, and guarded with vigilance from
all possibility of escape. When he discovered that the intention
of his imprisonment was to send him to the Emperor at Prague, he
divined the whole of the business, and invited the magistrates to meet
together, desiring them to bring a crucet and charcoal, and without
his approaching to melt some lead. Musket balls were used for the
purpose, and when the metal was molten, he handed them a small portion
of red powder, which they cast into the crucet, and the result of their
calcination was a considerable quantity of pure gold.
When he was brought into the presence of the gold-seeking Emperor,
Gustenhover was forced to admit that he had not himself prepared
the miraculous powder, and that he was in total ignorance about its
nature and composition. The monarch regarded this merely as one of the
subterfuges which were common in his experience of jealous adepts.
The goldsmith reiterated his protestations in vain; the whole of his
powder was speedily exhausted, yet he found himself still set to the
now impossible task of making gold. He sought a refuge from the fury of
the avaricious wretch, who has been denominated the German Hermes by
an alchemical blasphemy accursed by all sons of the doctrine; but he
was pursued, dragged back, and immured in the White Tower, where the
imperial dragon, blindly and obstinately convinced that the alchemist
was concealing his secret, detained him for the rest of his life.
The adept who presented the goldsmith with the auriferous gift of
misery, the so-called Hirschborgen, is supposed to be identical with
Alexander Sethon, at that period errant, under various disguises, in
Germany.
BUSARDIER.
Few particulars are recorded of this adept. He dwelt at Prague with a
lord of the Court, and, falling sick, he perceived that his immediate
death was inevitable. In this extremity he wrote a letter to his chosen
friend Richtausen, at Vienna, begging him to come and abide with him
during his last moments. On the receipt of this letter, Richtausen set
out, travelling with all expedition, but, on arriving at Prague, he
had the mortification to find that the adept was no more. He inquired
diligently if he had left anything behind him, and he was informed
by the steward of the nobleman with whom he had lodged that a powder
alone had been left, which the nobleman seemed anxious to preserve,
but which the steward did not know how to use. Upon this information,
Richtausen adroitly got possession of the powder, and then departed.
The nobleman, hearing of the transaction, threatened to hang his
steward if he did not recover the powder, and the latter, judging that
no one but Richtausen could have taken it, pursued him, well-armed. He
overtook him on the road and presented a pistol to his head, saying
he would shoot him if he did not return the powder. Richtausen,
seeing there was no other way to preserve his life, acknowledged his
possession of the treasure, and pretended to surrender it, but, by an
ingenious contrivance, he abstracted a considerable quantity.
He was now the owner of a substance the value of which was fully known
to him. He presented himself to the Emperor Ferdinand III., who was an
alchemist, and who, aided by his mine-master, Count Russe, took every
precaution in making projection with some of the powder given him by
Richtausen. He converted three pounds of mercury into gold with one
grain. The force of this tincture was one upon 19,470. The emperor is
said to have caused a medal to be struck, bearing the effigy of Apollo
with the caduceus of Mercury, and the motto--_Divina metamorphosis
exhibita Praguæ, Jan. 15, anno 1648, in præsentia Sac. Cæs. Majest.
Ferdinandi Tertii_. The reverse bore another inscription--_Raris hæc ut
hominibus est ars; ita raro in lucem prodit, laudetur Deus in æternum,
qui partem suæ infinitæ potentiæ novis suis abjectissimis creaturis
communicat_.
Richtausen was ennobled by the title of Baron Chaos.
Among many transformations performed by the same powder was one by the
Elector of Mayence in 1651. He made projection with all the precautions
possible to a learned and skilful philosopher. The powder, enclosed
in gum tragacanth to retain it effectually, was put into the wax of a
taper, which was lighted, the wax being then placed at the bottom of
a crucet. These preparations were undertaken by the Elector himself.
He poured four ounces of quicksilver on the wax, and put the whole
into a fire covered with charcoal, above, below, and around. Then they
began blowing to the utmost, and in about half an hour, on removing
the coals, they saw that the melted gold was over red, the proper
colour being green. The baron said that the matter was yet too high,
and it was necessary to put some silver into it. The Elector took
some coins out of his pocket, put them into the melting-pot, combined
the liquefied silver with the matter in the crucet, and having poured
out the whole when in perfect fusion into a lingot, he found, after
cooling, that it was very fine gold, but rather hard, which was
attributed to the lingot. On again melting, it became exceedingly soft,
and the master of the mint declared to his highness that it was more
than twenty-four carats, and that he had never seen so fine a quality
of the precious metal.
ANONYMOUS ADEPT.
Athanasius Kircher, the illustrious German Jesuit, records, in his
_Mundus Subterraneus_, that one of his friends, whose veracity he could
not doubt, made him the following relation:--
“From my youth I made a peculiar study of alchemy, without ever
attaining the object of that science. In my course of experiments I
received a visit from a man who was entirely unknown to me. He asked
very politely what was the object of my labours, and said, without
giving me time to reply, ‘I see very well by these glasses and this
furnace that you are engaged in a search after something very great in
chemistry, but, believe me, you never will in that way attain to the
object of your desire.’
“I said to him--‘Sir, if you have better instructions, I flatter myself
that you will give them.’
“‘Willingly,’ replied this generous unknown.
“Immediately I took a pen and wrote down the process he dictated.
“‘To show you the result,’ said the stranger, ‘let us both work
together according to what you have written.’
“We proceeded, and our operation being finished, I drew from the
chemical vessel a brilliant oil; it congealed into a mass, which I
broke into a powder. I took part of this powder and projected it on
three hundred pounds of quicksilver; it was in a little time converted
into pure gold, much more perfect than that of the mines; it endured
all the proofs of the goldsmiths.
“A prodigy so extraordinary struck me with surprise and astonishment.
I became almost stupid, and, as another Crœsus, fancied I possessed
all the riches in the universe. My gratitude to my benefactor was more
than I could express. He told me that he was on his travels and wanted
nothing whatever; ‘but it gratifies me,’ said he, ‘to counsel those
who are unable to complete the Hermetic work.’ I pressed him to remain
with me, but he retired to his inn. Next day I called there, but what
was my surprise at not finding him in it, or at any place in the town!
I had many questions to ask him which left me in doubt. I returned to
work according to the receipt, but failed in the result. I repeated
the process with more care; it was all in vain! Yet I persevered until
I had expended all the transmuted gold and the greater part of my own
property.”
“We see,” remarks Kircher, very gravely, “by this true history, how
the devil seeks to deceive men who are led by a lust of riches. This
alchemist was convinced he had an infernal visitor, and he destroyed
his books, furnace, and apparatus, by the timely advice of his
confessor.”
ALBERT BELIN.
Of this Benedictine, who was born at Besançon in 1610, the amateurs
of alchemy and the occult sciences have much prized the following
opuscula:--“A Treatise on Talismans or Astral figures, demonstrating
the exclusively natural origin of their no less admirable virtues,
with the manner of their composition and their practical utility;”
“Justification of the Sympathetic Powder,” published together
at Paris, 1671, 12mo; and, in particular, “The Adventures of an
Unknown Philosopher in the search after and on the discovery of the
Philosophical Stone.” This is divided into four books, and the manner
of accomplishing the _magnum opus_ is indicated with perspicacity
in the fourth. It was published in duodecimo at Paris in 1664, and
has since been reprinted. In the dedicatory epistle the authorship
is disclaimed by Belin, who remarks that, in accordance with his
profession, he should be occupied with the great work of divine grace
rather than with the natural _magnum opus_. The adventures are the
production of a young man with whom he was once well acquainted, and
who was then lately deceased. In the fourth book, the narrator of the
story relates how, with a copy of Raymond Lully in his hand, he went
by himself into a wood, and there he was interrupted in his studies
by a wonderful lady, in a wonderful silverine dress, embroidered with
flowers of gold. She proves to be Wisdom, and is greeted by the student
as his adorable mistress. In her infinite grace and condescension,
the divine incarnation of philosophy instructs her ravished listener,
during three several discourses, in the nature, effects, and
excellences of the rich and fruitful stone, of the matter whereof it
is composed, and of its development into absolute perfection.
The story is suggestive and curious, but in literary and romantic merit
it will bear no comparison with the “Chemical Nuptials of Christian
Rosencreutz.”
EIRENÆUS PHILALETHES.
In “The Real History of the Rosicrucians,” having no space for an
adequate discussion of the question, I followed the more general
opinion of Hermetic writers by identifying the author of the _Introitas
Apertus_ with the author of the _Lumen de Lumine_, Thomas Vaughan, and
concluded that he wrote indifferently under the pseudonyms of Eugenius
Philalethes and Eirenæus Philalethes.
Certain misleading references in great but fallible bibliographies,
and one piece of inextricable confusion in the text of the _Introitus
Apertus_, made this view appear to be fairly reasonable. However, in
the course of a somewhat detailed notice, a writer in the _Saturday
Review_ has taken me to task, by no means discourteously, be it said,
for inaccuracy in my account of Vaughan.
On the authority of Ashmole and Wood, he states that this personage
was the brother of the Silurist poet, Henry Vaughan, that he was born
at Llansaintfraid, in Brecknockshire, during the year 1621, that he
graduated at Jesus College, Oxford, took orders, and returned to hold
the living of his native parish. Under the Commonwealth he was ejected
as a Royalist, and then betook himself to chemical experiments, one of
which cost him his life on the 27th of February 1665.
Now, it is clear that these facts do not correspond with the life,
such as we know it, of the author of the _Introitus Apertus_, and the
identification of the two Philalethes, a habit which is apparently
unknown to the Saturday Reviewer, must be therefore abandoned. Why this
identification has hitherto taken place, and why, with some misgivings,
it was continued in my work on the Rosicrucians, may be very easily
explained.
The grounds of the confusion are these:--First, the similarity of the
assumed name, half of which was common to them both, while the other
half appears to have been interchangeable in the minds of historians
and bibliographers alike, including the compilers of the Catalogue in
the Library of the British Museum, which attributes the _Introitus
Apertus_ indiscriminately to both Philalethes. Second, the fact that
almost every edition and translation of this treatise contains the
following passage in the initial paragraph of the preface:--
“I being an adept, anonymous, and lover of learning, decreed to write
this little Treatise of physical secrets in the year 1645, in the
twenty-third year of my age, to pay my duty to the sons of art, and
lend my hand to bring them out of the labyrinth of error, to show
the adepts that I am a brother equal to them. I presage that many
will be enlightened by these my labours. They are no fables, but real
experiments, which I have seen, made, and know, as any adept will
understand. I have often in writing laid aside my pen, because I was
willing to have concealed the truth under the mask of envy; but God
compelled me to write, Whom I could not resist: He alone knows the
heart--to Him only be glory for ever. I undoubtedly believe that many
will become blessed in this last age of the world with this arcanum.
May the will of God be done! I confess myself unworthy of effecting
such things--I adore the holy will of God, to Whom all things are
subjected! He created and preserves them to this end.”
A simple arithmetical operation will show that the author was
consequently born in the year 1621, when also Eugenius Philalethes,
otherwise Thomas Vaughan, first saw the light. This would remain
unchallenged, but for the fact that the original edition[AH] of the
_Introitus_ is asserted to read _trigesimo anno_, in the thirty-third
year, instead of _vigesimo anno_. There is no copy of this original
edition in the British Museum, and my knowledge of it is derived
from the reprint in Langlet du Fresnoy’s _Histoire de la Philosophie
Hermétique_. Eirenæus, in accordance with the later impressions, is
venerated by the faithful of Hermes as the adept who accomplished the
grand and sublime act at the age of twenty-two.
These grounds, which in themselves are considerable, may be
supplemented by the fact that there is much similarity in the style and
methods of the two writers.
Eugenius Philalethes wrote _Anthroposophia Theomagica_; _Anima Magica
Abscondita_, published together in 1650; _Magia Adamica_, 1650; “The
Man-Mouse” (a satire on Henry More, the Platonist); “The Second Wash,
or The Moore (_i.e._, Henry More) Scoured once more,” 1651; _Lumen de
Lumine_, 1651; “The Fame and Confession of the Fraternity R.C.,” 1652;
_Aula Lucis_, 1652; “Euphrates, or The Waters of the East,” 1655. “A
Brief Natural History,” published in 1669, also bears his name, and in
1679 his poetical remains were published by Henry, his brother, along
with some effusions of his own, entitled _Thalia Rediviva_.
Some idea of the confusion which exists in the minds of biographers
and bibliographers alike on this point may be gathered from the fact
that some authorities represent Thomas Vaughan as dying in 1656, while
Chalmers’ Biographical Dictionary attributes all the works of Eugenius
Philalethes to Henry the Silurist, whom he terms a Rosicrucian fanatic.
If much be confusion which concerns Thomas Vaughan, all is chaos in
respect of Eirenæus Philalethes. He would appear to have emigrated
to America at a comparatively early period. The Amsterdam original
edition of his _Experimenta de Præparatione Mercurii Sophici_, which
was issued by Daniel Elzevir in 1668, describes that work as _ex
manuscripto philosophi Americani, alias Æyrenæi Philalethes, natu
Angli, habitatione Cosmopolitæ_. In this way, those who have refrained
from identifying him with Thomas Vaughan, carefully confuse him
with George Starkey, also an Anglo-American, who claimed a familiar
acquaintance with Philalethes, and who, owing his initiation to him,
may be considered his philosophical son, but not his _alter ego_.
Starkey returned to London, and wrote several chemical books, some
of which detail the transmutations performed by Philalethes in the
apothecary’s trans-atlantic laboratory. He died of the plague in London
in 1665, while Eirenæus continued publishing for many years after that
date, and lived for some time on intimate terms with the illustrious
Robert Boyle, who, however, has given us no biographical particulars
concerning him.
Not the least curious fact in the history of this mysterious adept is
the apparently complete disappearance of numbers of his printed works,
which an authentic list extends to some forty volumes, some of which
seem perfectly unknown and unheard of by bibliographers and collectors
alike. Langlet du Fresnoy enumerates several manuscript treatises, but
gives no clue to their whereabouts.
It is from the books of Philalethes himself that we must be contented
to glean the scanty facts of his life. The thirteenth chapter of the
_Introitus Apertus ad Occlusum Regis Palatium_ contains the following
remarkable account of its author:--