Just at the time that Michael Mayer was making known to the world the

existence of such a body as the Rosicrucians, there was born in Italy a

man who was afterwards destined to become the most conspicuous member of

the fraternity. The alchymic mania never called forth the ingenuity of a

more consummate or more successful impostor than Joseph Francis Borri. He

was born in 1616, according to some authorities, and in 1627 according to

others, at Milan; where his father, the Signor Branda Borri, practised as

a physician. At the age of sixteen Joseph was sent to finish his education

at the Jesuits' college in Rome, where he distinguished himself by his

extraordinary memory. He learned every thing to which he applied himself

with the utmost ease. In the most voluminous works no fact was too minute

for his retention, and no study was so abstruse but that he could master

it; but any advantages he might have derived from this facility were

neutralised by his ungovernable passions and his love of turmoil and

debauchery. He was involved in continual difficulty, as well with the

heads of the college as with the police of Rome, and acquired so bad a

character that years could not remove it. By the aid of his friends he

established himself as a physician in Rome, and also obtained some

situation in the pope's household. In one of his fits of studiousness he

grew enamoured of alchymy, and determined to devote his energies to the

discovery of the philosopher's stone. Of unfortunate propensities he had

quite sufficient, besides this, to bring him to poverty. His pleasures

were as expensive as his studies, and both were of a nature to destroy his

health and ruin his fair fame. At the age of thirty-seven he found that he

could not live by the practice of medicine, and began to look about for

some other employment. He became, in 1653, private secretary to the

Marquis di Mirogli, the minister of the Archduke of Innsprück at the court

of Rome. He continued in this capacity for two years; leading, however,

the same abandoned life as heretofore, frequenting the society of

gamesters, debauchees, and loose women, involving himself in disgraceful

street quarrels, and alienating the patrons who were desirous to befriend

him.

All at once a sudden change was observed in his conduct. The abandoned

rake put on the outward sedateness of a philosopher; the scoffing sinner

proclaimed that he had forsaken his evil ways, and would live thenceforth

a model of virtue. To his friends this reformation was as pleasing as it

was unexpected; and Borri gave obscure hints that it had been brought

about by some miraculous manifestation of a superior power. He pretended

that he held converse with beneficent spirits; that the secrets of God and

nature were revealed to him; and that he had obtained possession of the

philosopher's stone. Like his predecessor, Jacob Böhmen, he mixed up

religious questions with his philosophical jargon, and took measures for

declaring himself the founder of a new sect. This, at Rome itself, and in

the very palace of the pope, was a hazardous proceeding; and Borri just

awoke to a sense of it in time to save himself from the dungeons of the

Castle of St. Angelo. He fled to Innsprück, where he remained about a

year, and then returned to his native city of Milan.

[Illustration: INNSPRUCK.]

The reputation of his great sanctity had gone before him; and he found

many persons ready to attach themselves to his fortunes. All who were

desirous of entering into the new communion took an oath of poverty, and

relinquished their possessions for the general good of the fraternity.

Borri told them that he had received from the archangel Michael a heavenly

sword, upon the hilt of which were engraven the names of the seven

celestial intelligences. "Whoever shall refuse," said he, "to enter into

my new sheepfold shall be destroyed by the papal armies, of whom God has

predestined me to be the chief. To those who follow me all joy shall be

granted. I shall soon bring my chemical studies to a happy conclusion, by

the discovery of the philosopher's stone, and by this means we shall all

have as much gold as we desire. I am assured of the aid of the angelic

hosts, and more especially of the archangel Michael's. When I began to

walk in the way of the spirit, I had a vision of the night, and was

assured by an angelic voice that I should become a prophet. In sign of it

I saw a palm-tree, surrounded with all the glory of paradise. The angels

come to me whenever I call, and reveal to me all the secrets of the

universe. The sylphs and elementary spirits obey me, and fly to the

uttermost ends of the world to serve me, and those whom I delight to

honour." By force of continually repeating such stories as these, Borri

soon found himself at the head of a very considerable number of adherents.

As he figures in these pages as an alchymist, and not as a religious

sectarian, it will be unnecessary to repeat the doctrines which he taught

with regard to some of the dogmas of the Church of Rome, and which exposed

him to the fierce resentment of the papal authority. They were to the full

as ridiculous as his philosophical pretensions. As the number of his

followers increased, he appears to have cherished the idea of becoming one

day a new Mahomet, and of founding, in his native city of Milan, a

monarchy and religion of which he should be the king and the prophet. He

had taken measures, in the year 1658, for seizing the guards at all the

gates of that city, and formally declaring himself the monarch of the

Milanese. Just as he thought the plan ripe for execution, it was

discovered. Twenty of his followers were arrested, and he himself managed,

with the utmost difficulty, to escape to the neutral territory of

Switzerland, where the papal displeasure could not reach him.

The trial of his followers commenced forthwith, and the whole of them were

sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. Borri's trial proceeded in his

absence, and lasted for upwards of two years. He was condemned to death as

a heretic and sorcerer in 1661, and was burned in effigy in Rome by the

common hangman.

Borri, in the mean time, lived quietly in Switzerland, indulging himself

in railing at the Inquisition and its proceedings. He afterwards went to

Strasbourg, intending to fix his residence in that town. He was received

with great cordiality, as a man persecuted for his religious opinions, and

withal a great alchymist. He found that sphere too narrow for his aspiring

genius, and retired in the same year to the more wealthy city of

Amsterdam. He there hired a magnificent house, established an equipage

which eclipsed in brilliancy those of the richest merchants, and assumed

the title of Excellency. Where he got the money to live in this expensive

style was long a secret: the adepts in alchymy easily explained it, after

their fashion. Sensible people were of opinion that he had come by it in a

less wonderful manner; for it was remembered that among his unfortunate

disciples in Milan, there were many rich men, who, in conformity with one

of the fundamental rules of the sect, had given up all their earthly

wealth into the hands of their founder. In whatever manner the money was

obtained, Borri spent it in Holland with an unsparing hand, and was looked

up to by the people with no little respect and veneration. He performed

several able cures, and increased his reputation so much that he was

vaunted as a prodigy. He continued diligently the operations of alchymy,

and was in daily expectation that he should succeed in turning the

inferior metals into gold. This hope never abandoned him, even in the

worst extremity of his fortunes; and in his prosperity it led him into the

most foolish expenses: but he could not long continue to live so

magnificently upon the funds he had brought from Italy; and the

philosopher's stone, though it promised all for the wants of the morrow,

never brought any thing for the necessities of to-day. He was obliged in a

few months to retrench, by giving up his large house, his gilded coach and

valuable blood-horses, his liveried domestics, and his luxurious

entertainments. With this diminution of splendour came a diminution of

renown. His cures did not appear so miraculous, when he went out on foot

to perform them, as they had seemed when "his Excellency" had driven to a

poor man's door in his carriage with six horses. He sank from a prodigy

into an ordinary man. His great friends shewed him the cold shoulder, and

his humble flatterers carried their incense to some other shrine. Borri

now thought it high time to change his quarters. With this view he

borrowed money wherever he could get it, and succeeded in obtaining two

hundred thousand florins from a merchant named De Meer, to aid, as he

said, in discovering the water of life. He also obtained six diamonds of

great value, on pretence that he could remove the flaws from them without

diminishing their weight. With this booty he stole away secretly by night,

and proceeded to Hamburgh.

On his arrival in that city, he found the celebrated Christina, the

ex-queen of Sweden. He procured an introduction to her, and requested her

patronage in his endeavour to discover the philosopher's stone. She gave

him some encouragement; but Borri, fearing that the merchants of

Amsterdam, who had connexions in Hamburgh, might expose his delinquencies

if he remained in the latter city, passed over to Copenhagen, and sought

the protection of Frederick III., the king of Denmark.

This prince was a firm believer in the transmutation of metals. Being in

want of money, he readily listened to the plans of an adventurer who had

both eloquence and ability to recommend him. He provided Borri with the

means to make experiments, and took a great interest in the progress of

his operations. He expected every month to possess riches that would buy

Peru; and, when he was disappointed, accepted patiently the excuses of

Borri, who, upon every failure, was always ready with some plausible

explanation. He became in time much attached to him; and defended him from

the jealous attacks of his courtiers, and the indignation of those who

were grieved to see their monarch the easy dupe of a charlatan. Borri

endeavoured, by every means in his power, to find aliment for this good

opinion. His knowledge of medicine was useful to him in this respect, and

often stood between him and disgrace. He lived six years in this manner at

the court of Frederick; but that monarch dying in 1670 he was left without

a protector.

As he had made more enemies than friends in Copenhagen, and had nothing to

hope from the succeeding sovereign, he sought an asylum in another

country. He went first to Saxony; but met so little encouragement, and

encountered so much danger from the emissaries of the Inquisition, that he

did not remain there many months. Anticipating nothing but persecution in

every country that acknowledged the spiritual authority of the pope, he

appears to have taken the resolution to dwell in Turkey, and turn

Mussulman. On his arrival at the Hungarian frontier, on his way to

Constantinople, he was arrested on suspicion of being concerned in the

conspiracy of the Counts Nadasdi and Frangipani, which had just been

discovered. In vain he protested his innocence, and divulged his real name

and profession. He was detained in prison, and a letter despatched to the

Emperor Leopold, to know what should be done with him. The star of his

fortunes was on the decline. The letter reached Leopold at an unlucky

moment. The pope's nuncio was closeted with his majesty; and he no sooner

heard the name of Joseph Francis Borri, than he demanded him as a prisoner

of the Holy See. The request was complied with; and Borri, closely

manacled, was sent under an escort of soldiers to the prison of the

Inquisition at Rome. He was too much of an impostor to be deeply tinged

with fanaticism, and was not unwilling to make a public recantation of his

heresies, if he could thereby save his life. When the proposition was made

to him, he accepted it with eagerness. His punishment was to be commuted

into the hardly less severe one of perpetual imprisonment; but he was too

happy to escape the clutch of the executioner at any price, and he made

the _amende honorable_ in face of the assembled multitudes of Rome on the

27th of October 1672. He was then transferred to the prisons of the Castle

of St. Angelo, where he remained till his death, twenty-three years

afterwards. It is said that, towards the close of his life, considerable

indulgence was granted him; that he was allowed to have a laboratory, and

to cheer the solitude of his dungeon by searching for the philosopher's

stone. Queen Christina, during her residence at Rome, frequently visited

the old man, to converse with him upon chemistry and the doctrines of the

Rosicrucians. She even obtained permission that he should leave his prison

occasionally for a day or two, and reside in her palace, she being

responsible for his return to captivity. She encouraged him to search for

the great secret of the alchymists, and provided him with money for the

purpose. It may well be supposed that Borri benefited most by this

acquaintance, and that Christina got nothing but experience. It is not

sure that she gained even that; for until her dying day she was convinced

of the possibility of finding the philosopher's stone, and ready to assist

any adventurer either zealous or impudent enough to pretend to it.

After Borri had been about eleven years in confinement, a small volume was

published at Cologne, entitled _The Key of the Cabinet of the Chevalier

Joseph Francis Borri, in which are contained many curious Letters upon

Chemistry and other Sciences, written by him, together with a Memoir of

his Life_. This book contained a complete exposition of the Rosicrucian

philosophy, and afforded materials to the Abbé de Villars for his

interesting _Count de Gabalis_, which excited so much attention at the

close of the seventeenth century.

Borri lingered in the prison of St. Angelo till 1695, when he died, in his

eightieth year. Besides _The Key of the Cabinet_, written originally in

Copenhagen, in 1666, for the edification of King Frederick III., he

published a work upon alchymy and the secret sciences, under the title of

_The Mission of Romulus to the Romans_.

INFERIOR ALCHYMISTS OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.

Besides the pretenders to the philosopher's stone whose lives have been

already narrated, this and the preceding century produced a great number

of writers, who inundated literature with their books upon the subject. In

fact, most of the learned men of that age had some faith in it. Van

Helmont, Borrichius, Kircher, Boerhaave, and a score of others, though not

professed alchymists, were fond of the science, and countenanced its

professors. Helvetius, the grandfather of the celebrated philosopher of

the same name, asserts that he saw an inferior metal turned into gold by a

stranger, at the Hague, in 1666. He says, that, sitting one day in his

study, a man, who was dressed as a respectable burgher of North Holland,

and very modest and simple in his appearance, called upon him, with the

intention of dispelling his doubts relative to the philosopher's stone. He

asked Helvetius if he thought he should know that rare gem if he saw it.

To which Helvetius replied, that he certainly should not. The burgher

immediately drew from his pocket a small ivory box, containing three

pieces of metal, of the colour of brimstone, and extremely heavy; and

assured Helvetius, that of them he could make as much as twenty tons of

gold. Helvetius informs us, that he examined them very attentively; and

seeing that they were very brittle, he took the opportunity to scrape off

a small portion with his thumb-nail. He then returned them to the

stranger, with an entreaty that he would perform the process of

transmutation before him. The stranger replied, that he was not allowed to

do so, and went away. After his departure, Helvetius procured a crucible

and a portion of lead, into which, when in a state of fusion, he threw the

stolen grain from the philosopher's stone. He was disappointed to find

that the grain evaporated altogether, leaving the lead in its original

state.

Some weeks afterwards, when he had almost forgotten the subject, he

received another visit from the stranger. He again entreated him to

explain the processes by which he pretended to transmute lead. The

stranger at last consented, and informed him, that one grain was

sufficient; but that it was necessary to envelope it in a ball of wax

before throwing it on the molten metal; otherwise its extreme volatility

would cause it to go off in vapour. They tried the experiment, and

succeeded to their heart's content. Helvetius repeated the experiment

alone, and converted six ounces of lead into very pure gold.

The fame of this event spread all over the Hague, and all the notable

persons of the town flocked to the study of Helvetius to convince

themselves of the fact. Helvetius performed the experiment again, in the

presence of the Prince of Orange, and several times afterwards, until he

exhausted the whole of the powder he had received from the stranger, from

whom it is necessary to state, he never received another visit; nor did he

ever discover his name or condition. In the following year, Helvetius

published his _Golden Calf_,[46] in which he detailed the above

circumstances.

[46] "Vitulus Aureus quem Mundus adorat et orat, in quo tractatur

de naturæ miraculo transmutandi metalla." _Hagæ_, 1667.

About the same time, the celebrated Father Kircher published his

_Subterranean World_, in which he called the alchymists a congregation of

knaves and impostors, and their science a delusion. He admitted that he

had himself been a diligent labourer in the field, and had only come to

this conclusion after mature consideration and repeated fruitless

experiments. All the alchymists were in arms immediately, to refute this

formidable antagonist. One Solomon de Blauenstein was the first to grapple

with him, and attempted to convict him of wilful misrepresentation, by

recalling to his memory the transmutations by Sendivogius, before the

Emperor Frederick III. and the Elector of Mayence, all performed within a

recent period. Zwelfer and Glauber also entered into the dispute, and

attributed the enmity of Father Kircher to spite and jealousy against

adepts who had been more successful than himself.

It was also pretended that Gustavus Adolphus transmuted a quantity of

quicksilver into pure gold. The learned Borrichius relates, that he saw

coins which had been struck of this gold; and Lenglet du Fresnoy deposes

to the same circumstance. In the _Travels of Monconis_ the story is told

in the following manner: "A merchant of Lubeck, who carried on but little

trade, but who knew how to change lead into very good gold, gave the King

of Sweden a lingot which he had made, weighing at least one hundred

pounds. The king immediately caused it to be coined into ducats; and

because he knew positively that its origin was such as had been stated to

him, he had his own arms graven upon the one side, and emblematical

figures of Mercury and Venus on the other. I (continued Monconis) have one

of these ducats in my possession; and was credibly informed that, after

the death of the Lubeck merchant, who had never appeared very rich, a sum

of no less than one million seven hundred thousand crowns was found in his

coffers."[47]

[47] _Voyages de Monconis_, tome ii. p. 379.

Such stories as these, confidently related by men high in station, tended

to keep up the infatuation of the alchymists in every country of Europe.

It is astonishing to see the number of works which were written upon the

subject during the seventeenth century alone, and the number of clever men

who sacrificed themselves to the delusion. Gabriel de Castaigne, a monk of

the order of St. Francis, attracted so much notice in the reign of Louis

XIII., that that monarch secured him in his household, and made him his

Grand Almoner. He pretended to find the elixir of life, and Louis expected

by his means to have enjoyed the crown for a century. Van Helmont also

pretended to have once performed with success the process of transmuting

quicksilver, and was in consequence invited by the Emperor Rudolph II. to

fix his residence at the court of Vienna. Glauber, the inventor of the

salts which still bear his name, and who practised as a physician at

Amsterdam about the middle of the seventeenth century, established a

public school in that city for the study of alchymy, and gave lectures

himself upon the science. John Joachim Becher of Spire acquired great

reputation at the same period, and was convinced that much gold might be

made out of flint-stones by a peculiar process, and the aid of that grand

and incomprehensible substance the philosopher's stone. He made a

proposition to the Emperor Leopold of Austria to aid him in these

experiments; but the hope of success was too remote, and the present

expense too great, to tempt that monarch, and he therefore gave Becher

much of his praise, but none of his money. Becher afterwards tried the

States-General of Holland with no better success.

With regard to the innumerable tricks by which impostors persuaded the

world that they had succeeded in making gold, and of which so many stories

were current about this period, a very satisfactory report was read by M.

Geoffroy the elder, at the sitting of the Royal Academy of Sciences at

Paris, on the 15th of April, 1722. As it relates principally to the

alchymic cheats of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the following

abridgment of it may not be out of place in this portion of our history.

The instances of successful transmutation were so numerous, and apparently

so well authenticated, that nothing short of so able an exposure as that

of M. Geoffroy could disabuse the public mind. The trick to which they

oftenest had recourse was to use a double-bottomed crucible, the under

surface being of iron or copper, and the upper one of wax, painted to

resemble the same metal. Between the two they placed as much gold or

silver dust as was necessary for their purpose. They then put in their

lead, quicksilver, or other ingredients, and placed their pot upon the

fire. Of course, when the experiment was concluded, they never failed to

find a lump of gold at the bottom. The same result was produced in many

other ways. Some of them used a hollow wand, filled with gold or silver

dust, and stopped at the ends with wax or butter. With this they stirred

the boiling metal in their crucibles, taking care to accompany the

operation with many ceremonies, to divert attention from the real purpose

of the manoeuvre. They also drilled holes in lumps of lead, into which

they poured molten gold, and carefully closed the aperture with the

original metal. Sometimes they washed a piece of gold with quicksilver.

When in this state, they found no difficulty in palming it off upon the

uninitiated as an inferior metal, and very easily transmuted it into fine

sonorous gold again with the aid of a little aquafortis.

Others imposed by means of nails, half iron and half gold or silver. They

pretended that they really transmuted the precious half from iron, by

dipping it in a strong alcohol. M. Geoffroy produced several of these

nails to the Academy of Sciences, and shewed how nicely the two parts were

soldered together. The golden or silver half was painted black to resemble

iron, and the colour immediately disappeared when the nail was dipped into

aquafortis. A nail of this description was, for a long time, in the

cabinet of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Such also, said M. Geoffroy, was the

knife presented by a monk to Queen Elizabeth of England; the blade of

which was half gold and half steel. Nothing at one time was more common

than to see coins, half gold and half silver, which had been operated upon

by alchymists, for the same purposes of trickery. In fact, says M.

Geoffroy, in concluding his long report, there is every reason to believe

that all the famous histories which have been handed down to us about the

transmutation of metals into gold or silver, by means of the powder of

projection or philosophical elixirs, are founded upon some successful

deception of the kind above narrated. These pretended philosophers

invariably disappeared after the first or second experiment, or their

powders or elixirs have failed to produce their effect, either because

attention being excited they have found no opportunity to renew the trick

without being discovered, or because they have not had sufficient gold

dust for more than one trial.

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