flourished during this epoch, and whose lives and adventures are either
unknown or are unworthy of more detailed notice. John Dowston, an
Englishman, lived in 1315, and wrote two treatises on the philosopher's
stone. Richard, or, as some call him, Robert, also an Englishman, lived in
1330, and wrote a work entitled _Correctorium Alchymiæ_, which was much
esteemed till the time of Paracelsus. In the same year lived Peter of
Lombardy, who wrote what he called a _Complete Treatise upon the Hermetic
Science_, an abridgment of which was afterwards published by Lacini, a
monk of Calabria. In 1330 the most famous alchymist of Paris was one
Odomare, whose work, _De Practica Magistri_, was for a long time a
hand-book among the brethren of the science. John de Rupecissa, a French
monk of the order of St. Francis, flourished in 1357, and pretended to be
a prophet as well as an alchymist. Some of his prophecies were so
disagreeable to Pope Innocent VI., that the pontiff determined to put a
stop to them, by locking up the prophet in the dungeons of the Vatican. It
is generally believed that he died there, though there is no evidence of
the fact. His chief works are, the _Book of Light_, the _Five Essences_,
the _Heaven of Philosophers_, and his grand work, _De Confectione
Lapidis_. He was not thought a shining light among the adepts. Ortholani
was another pretender, of whom nothing is known, but that he exercised the
arts of alchymy and astrology at Paris, shortly before the time of
Nicholas Flamel. His work on the practice of alchymy was written in that
city in 1358. Isaac of Holland wrote, it is supposed, about this time; and
his son also devoted himself to the science. Nothing worth repeating is
known of their lives. Boerhaave speaks with commendation of many passages
in their works, and Paracelsus esteemed them highly: the chief are, _De
Triplici Ordine Elixiris et Lapidis Theoria_, printed at Berne in 1608;
and _Mineralia Opera, seu de Lapide Philosophico_, printed at Middleburg
in 1600. They also wrote eight other works upon the same subject.
Koffstky, a Pole, wrote an alchymical treatise, entitled _The Tincture of
Minerals_, about the year 1488. In this list of authors a royal name must
not be forgotten. Charles VI. of France, one of the most credulous princes
of the day, whose court absolutely swarmed with alchymists, conjurers,
astrologers, and quacks of every description, made several attempts to
discover the philosopher's stone, and thought he knew so much about it,
that he determined to enlighten the world with a treatise; it is called
the _Royal Work of Charles VI. of France, and the Treasure of Philosophy_.
It is said to be the original from which Nicholas Flamel took the idea of
his _Désir désiré_. Lenglet du Fresnoy says it is very allegorical, and
utterly incomprehensible. For a more complete list of the hermetic
philosophers of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the reader is
referred to the third volume of Lenglet's History, already quoted.
* * * * *
PROGRESS OF THE INFATUATION DURING THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH
CENTURIES.--PRESENT STATE OF THE SCIENCE.
During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the search for the
philosopher's stone was continued by thousands of the enthusiastic and the
credulous; but a great change was introduced during this period. The
eminent men who devoted themselves to the study totally changed its
aspect, and referred to the possession of their wondrous stone and elixir,
not only the conversion of the base into the precious metals, but the
solution of all the difficulties of other sciences. They pretended that by
its means man would be brought into closer communion with his Maker; that
disease and sorrow would be banished from the world; and that "the
millions of spiritual beings who walk the earth unseen" would be rendered
visible, and become the friends, companions, and instructors of mankind.
In the seventeenth century more especially, these poetical and fantastic
doctrines excited the notice of Europe; and from Germany, where they had
been first disseminated by Rosencreutz, spread into France and England,
and ran away with the sound judgment of many clever but too enthusiastic
searchers for the truth. Paracelsus, Dee, and many others of less note,
were captivated by the grace and beauty of the new mythology, which was
arising to adorn the literature of Europe. Most of the alchymists of the
sixteenth century, although ignorant of the Rosicrucians as a sect, were,
in some degree, tinctured with their fanciful tenets: but before we speak
more fully of these poetical visionaries, it will be necessary to resume
the history of the hermetic folly, and trace the gradual change that stole
over the dreams of the adepts. It will be seen that the infatuation
increased rather than diminished as the world grew older.
AUGURELLO.
Among the alchymists who were born in the fifteenth, and distinguished
themselves in the sixteenth century, the first in point of date is John
Aurelio Augurello. He was born at Rimini in 1441, and became professor of
the _belles lettres_ at Venice and Trevisa. He was early convinced of the
truth of the hermetic science, and used to pray to God that he might be
happy enough to discover the philosopher's stone. He was continually
surrounded by the paraphernalia of chemistry, and expended all his wealth
in the purchase of drugs and metals. He was also a poet, but of less merit
than pretensions. His _Chrysopeia_, in which he pretended to teach the art
of making gold, he dedicated to Pope Leo X., in the hope that the pontiff
would reward him handsomely for the compliment; but the pope was too good
a judge of poetry to be pleased with the worse than mediocrity of his
poem, and too good a philosopher to approve of the strange doctrines which
it inculcated; he was, therefore, far from gratified at the dedication. It
is said, that when Augurello applied to him for a reward, the pope, with
great ceremony and much apparent kindness and cordiality, drew an empty
purse from his pocket, and presented it to the alchymist, saying, that
since he was able to make gold, the most appropriate present that could be
made him, was a purse to put it in. This scurvy reward was all that the
poor alchymist ever got either for his poetry or his alchymy. He died in a
state of extreme poverty, in the eighty-third year of his age.
CORNELIUS AGRIPPA.
This alchymist has left a distinguished reputation. The most
extraordinary tales were told and believed of his powers. He could turn
iron into gold by his mere word. All the spirits of the air and demons of
the earth were under his command, and bound to obey him in everything. He
could raise from the dead the forms of the great men of other days, and
make them appear, "in their habit as they lived," to the gaze of the
curious who had courage enough to abide their presence.
[Illustration: CORNELIUS AGRIPPA.]
He was born at Cologne in 1486, and began at an early age the study of
chemistry and philosophy. By some means or other, which have never been
very clearly explained, he managed to impress his contemporaries with a
great idea of his wonderful attainments. At the early age of twenty, so
great was his reputation as an alchymist, that the principal adepts of
Paris wrote to Cologne, inviting him to settle in France, and aid them
with his experience in discovering the philosopher's stone. Honours poured
upon him in thick succession; and he was highly esteemed by all the
learned men of his time. Melancthon speaks of him with respect and
commendation. Erasmus also bears testimony in his favour; and the general
voice of his age proclaimed him a light of literature and an ornament to
philosophy. Some men, by dint of excessive egotism, manage to persuade
their contemporaries that they are very great men indeed: they publish
their acquirements so loudly in people's ears, and keep up their own
praises so incessantly, that the world's applause is actually taken by
storm. Such seems to have been the case with Agrippa. He called himself a
sublime theologian, an excellent jurisconsult, an able physician, a great
philosopher, and a successful alchymist. The world at last took him at his
word; and thought that a man who talked so big, must have some merit to
recommend him,--that it was, indeed, a great trumpet which sounded so
obstreperous a blast. He was made secretary to the Emperor Maximilian, who
conferred upon him the title of chevalier, and gave him the honorary
command of a regiment. He afterwards became professor of Hebrew and the
_belles lettres_ at the University of Dôle, in France; but quarrelling
with the Franciscan monks upon some knotty points of divinity, he was
obliged to quit the town. He took refuge in London, where he taught Hebrew
and cast nativities, for about a year. From London he proceeded to Pavia,
and gave lectures upon the writings, real or supposed, of Hermes
Trismegistus; and might have lived there in peace and honour, had he not
again quarrelled with the clergy. By their means his position became so
disagreeable that he was glad to accept an offer made him by the
magistracy of Metz, to become their syndic and advocate-general. Here,
again, his love of disputation made him enemies: the theological wiseacres
of that city asserted that St. Ann had three husbands, in which opinion
they were confirmed by the popular belief of the day. Agrippa needlessly
ran foul of this opinion, or prejudice as he called it, and thereby lost
much of his influence. Another dispute, more creditable to his character,
occurred soon after, and sank him for ever in the estimation of the
Metzians. Humanely taking the part of a young girl who was accused of
witchcraft, his enemies asserted that he was himself a sorcerer, and
raised such a storm over his head, that he was forced to fly the city.
After this he became physician to Louisa de Savoy, mother of King Francis
I. This lady was curious to know the future, and required her physician to
cast her nativity. Agrippa replied that he would not encourage such idle
curiosity. The result was, he lost her confidence, and was forthwith
dismissed. If it had been through his belief in the worthlessness of
astrology, that he had made his answer, we might admire his honest and
fearless independence; but when it is known that, at the very same time,
he was in the constant habit of divination and fortune-telling, and that
he was predicting splendid success, in all his undertakings, to the
Constable of Bourbon, we can only wonder at his thus estranging a powerful
friend through mere petulance and perversity.
He was about this time invited, both by Henry VIII. of England, and
Margaret of Austria, governess of the Low Countries, to fix his residence
in their dominions. He chose the service of the latter, by whose influence
he was made historiographer to the Emperor Charles V. Unfortunately for
Agrippa, he never had stability enough to remain long in one position, and
offended his patrons by his restlessness and presumption. After the death
of Margaret he was imprisoned at Brussels, on a charge of sorcery. He was
released after a year; and quitting the country, experienced many
vicissitudes. He died in great poverty in 1534, aged forty-eight years.
While in the service of Margaret of Austria, he resided principally at
Louvain, in which city he wrote his famous work on the _Vanity and
Nothingness of Human Knowledge_. He also wrote to please his royal
mistress, a treatise upon the _Superiority of the Female Sex_, which he
dedicated to her in token of his gratitude for the favours she had heaped
upon him. The reputation he left behind him in these provinces was any
thing but favourable. A great number of the marvellous tales that are told
of him relate to this period of his life. It was said, that the gold which
he paid to the traders with whom he dealt, always looked remarkably
bright, but invariably turned into pieces of slate and stone in the course
of four-and-twenty hours. Of this spurious gold he was believed to have
made large quantities by the aid of the devil, who, it would appear from
this, had but a very superficial knowledge of alchymy, and much less than
the Maréchal de Rays gave him credit for. The Jesuit Delrio, in his book
on magic and sorcery, relates a still more extraordinary story of him. One
day, Agrippa left his house at Louvain, and intending to be absent for
some time, gave the key of his study to his wife, with strict orders that
no one should enter it during his absence. The lady herself, strange as it
may appear, had no curiosity to pry into her husband's secrets, and never
once thought of entering the forbidden room; but a young student, who had
been accommodated with an attic in the philosopher's house, burned with a
fierce desire to examine the study; hoping, perchance, that he might
purloin some book or implement which would instruct him in the art of
transmuting metals. The youth, being handsome, eloquent, and, above all,
highly complimentary to the charms of the lady, she was persuaded without
much difficulty to lend him the key, but gave him strict orders not to
remove any thing. The student promised implicit obedience, and entered
Agrippa's study. The first object that caught his attention was a large
_grimoire_, or book of spells, which lay open on the philosopher's desk.
He sat himself down immediately and began to read. At the first word he
uttered, he fancied he heard a knock at the door. He listened, but all was
silent. Thinking that his imagination had deceived him, he read on, when
immediately a louder knock was heard, which so terrified him, that he
started to his feet. He tried to say "Come in," but his tongue refused its
office, and he could not articulate a sound. He fixed his eyes upon the
door, which, slowly opening, disclosed a stranger of majestic form, but
scowling features, who demanded sternly, why he was summoned? "I did not
summon you," said the trembling student. "You did!" said the stranger,
advancing angrily; "and the demons are not to be invoked in vain." The
student could make no reply; and the demon, enraged that one of the
uninitiated should have summoned him out of mere presumption, seized him
by the throat and strangled him. When Agrippa returned, a few days
afterwards, he found his house beset with devils. Some of them were
sitting on the chimney-pots, kicking up their legs in the air; while
others were playing at leapfrog on the very edge of the parapet. His study
was so filled with them, that he found it difficult to make his way to his
desk. When, at last, he had elbowed his way through them, he found his
book open, and the student lying dead upon the floor. He saw immediately
how the mischief had been done; and dismissing all the inferior imps,
asked the principal demon how he could have been so rash as to kill the
young man. The demon replied, that he had been needlessly invoked by an
insulting youth, and could do no less than kill him for his presumption.
Agrippa reprimanded him severely, and ordered him immediately to reanimate
the dead body, and walk about with it in the market-place for the whole of
the afternoon. The demon did so; the student revived, and putting his arm
through that of his unearthly murderer, walked very lovingly with him in
sight of all the people. At sunset, the body fell down again, cold and
lifeless as before, and was carried by the crowd to the hospital, it being
the general opinion that he had expired in a fit of apoplexy. His
conductor immediately disappeared. When the body was examined, marks of
strangulation were found on the neck, and prints of the long claws of the
demon on various parts of it. These appearances, together with a story,
which soon obtained currency, that the companion of the young man had
vanished in a cloud of flame and smoke, opened people's eyes to the truth.
The magistrates of Louvain instituted inquiries, and the result was, that
Agrippa was obliged to quit the town.
Other authors besides Delrio relate similar stories of this philosopher.
The world in those days was always willing enough to believe in tales of
magic and sorcery; and when, as in Agrippa's case, the alleged magician
gave himself out for such, and claimed credit for the wonders he worked,
it is not surprising that the age should have allowed his pretensions. It
was dangerous boasting, which sometimes led to the stake or the gallows,
and therefore was thought to be not without foundation. Paulus Jovius, in
his _Eulogia Doctorum Virorum_, says, that the devil, in the shape of a
large black dog, attended Agrippa wherever he went. Thomas Nash, in his
_Adventures of Jack Wilton_, relates, that, at the request of Lord Surrey,
Erasmus, and some other learned men, Agrippa called up from the grave many
of the great philosophers of antiquity; among others, Tully, whom he
caused to re-deliver his celebrated oration for Roscius. He also shewed
Lord Surrey, when in Germany, an exact resemblance in a glass of his
mistress, the fair Geraldine. She was represented on a couch weeping for
the absence of her lover. Lord Surrey made a note of the exact time at
which he saw this vision, and ascertained afterwards that his mistress was
actually so employed at the very minute. To Thomas Lord Cromwell, Agrippa
represented King Henry VIII. hunting in Windsor Park, with the principal
lords of his court; and to please the Emperor Charles V. he summoned King
David and King Solomon from the tomb.
Naudé, in his "_Apology for the great Men who have been falsely suspected
of Magic_," takes a great deal of pains to clear Agrippa from the
imputations cast upon him by Delrio, Paulus Jovius, and other such
ignorant and prejudiced scribblers. Such stories demanded refutation in
the days of Naudé, but they may now be safely left to decay in their own
absurdity. That they should have attached, however, to the memory of a man
who claimed the power of making iron obey him when he told it to become
gold, and who wrote such a work as that upon magic, which goes by his
name, is not at all surprising.
PARACELSUS.
This philosopher, called by Naudé "the zenith and rising sun of all the
alchymists," was born at Einsiedeln, near Zurich, in the year 1493. His
true name was Hohenheim; to which, as he himself informs us, were prefixed
the baptismal names of Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastes Paracelsus. The
last of these he chose for his common designation while he was yet a boy;
and rendered it, before he died, one of the most famous in the annals of
his time. His father, who was a physician, educated his son for the same
pursuit. The latter was an apt scholar, and made great progress. By chance
the work of Isaac Hollandus fell into his hands, and from that time he
became smitten with the mania of the philosopher's stone. All his thoughts
henceforth were devoted to metallurgy; and he travelled into Sweden that
he might visit the mines of that country, and examine the ores while they
yet lay in the bowels of the earth. He also visited Trithemius at the
monastery of Spannheim, and obtained instructions from him in the science
of alchymy. Continuing his travels, he proceeded through Prussia and
Austria into Turkey, Egypt, and Tartary, and thence returning to
Constantinople, learned, as he boasted, the art of transmutation, and
became possessed of the _elixir vitæ_. He then established himself as a
physician in his native Switzerland at Zurich, and commenced writing works
upon alchymy and medicine, which immediately fixed the attention of
Europe. Their great obscurity was no impediment to their fame; for the
less the author was understood, the more the demonologists, fanatics, and
philosopher's-stone hunters seemed to appreciate him. His fame as a
physician kept pace with that which he enjoyed as an alchymist, owing to
his having effected some happy cures by means of mercury and opium,--drugs
unceremoniously condemned by his professional brethren. In the year 1526,
he was chosen professor of physics and natural philosophy in the
University of Basle, where his lectures attracted vast numbers of
students. He denounced the writings of all former physicians as tending to
mislead; and publicly burned the works of Galen and Avicenna, as quacks
and impostors. He exclaimed, in presence of the admiring and
half-bewildered crowd, who assembled to witness the ceremony, that there
was more knowledge in his shoe-strings than in the writings of these
physicians. Continuing in the same strain, he said, all the Universities
in the world were full of ignorant quacks; but that he, Paracelsus,
overflowed with wisdom. "You will all follow my new system," said he, with
furious gesticulations, "Avicenna, Galen, Rhazis, Montagnana, Memé,--you
will all follow me, ye professors of Paris, Montpellier, Germany, Cologne,
and Vienna! and all ye that dwell on the Rhine and the Danube,--ye that
inhabit the isles of the sea; and ye also, Italians, Dalmatians,
Athenians, Arabians, Jews,--ye will all follow my doctrines, for I am the
monarch of medicine!"
[Illustration: PARACELSUS.]
But he did not long enjoy the esteem of the good citizens of Basle. It is
said that he indulged in wine so freely, as not unfrequently to be seen in
the streets in a state of intoxication. This was ruinous for a physician,
and his good fame decreased rapidly. His ill fame increased in still
greater proportion, especially when he assumed the airs of a sorcerer. He
boasted of the legions of spirits at his command; and of one especially,
which he kept imprisoned in the hilt of his sword. Wetteras, who lived
twenty-seven months in his service, relates that he often threatened to
invoke a whole army of demons, and shew him the great authority which he
could exercise over them. He let it be believed that the spirit in his
sword had custody of the elixir of life, by means of which he could make
any one live to be as old as the antediluvians. He also boasted that he
had a spirit at his command, called "Azoth," whom he kept imprisoned in a
jewel; and in many of the old portraits he is represented with a jewel,
inscribed with the word "Azoth, in his hand."
If a sober prophet has little honour in his own country, a drunken one has
still less. Paracelsus found it at last convenient to quit Basle, and
establish himself at Strasbourg. The immediate cause of this change of
residence was as follows. A citizen lay at the point of death, and was
given over by all the physicians of the town. As a last resource
Paracelsus was called in, to whom the sick man promised a magnificent
recompense, if, by his means, he were cured. Paracelsus gave him two small
pills, which the man took, and rapidly recovered. When he was quite well,
Paracelsus sent for his fee; but the citizen had no great opinion of the
value of a cure which had been so speedily effected. He had no notion of
paying a handful of gold for two pills, although they had saved his life,
and he refused to pay more than the usual fee for a single visit.
Paracelsus brought an action against him, and lost it. This result so
exasperated him, that he left Basle in high dudgeon. He resumed his
wandering life, and travelled in Germany and Hungary, supporting himself
as he went on the credulity and infatuation of all classes of society. He
cast nativities--told fortunes--aided those who had money to throw away
upon the experiment, to find the philosopher's stone--prescribed remedies
for cows and pigs, and aided in the recovery of stolen goods. After
residing successively at Nuremburg, Augsburg, Vienna, and Mindelheim, he
retired in the year 1541 to Saltzbourg, and died in a state of abject
poverty in the hospital of that town.