WHAT GOVERNS PRIVATE intermissions of the heart? I have seen mongrels envy and bite each other just as men cull and steal and dispute and choose violent satisfaction, so all together become what they profess to despise. Then is this mankind’s republic? Out of the universe, seeing he was thus constituted, what does he anticipate? Who is he—this anomaly that forges iron like wax? I read upon his visage the look of ascendancy which is both awful and undecided.
LIKE EZEKIAL UPON his dream I am full of wonder. Fundamental antipathies and sympathies coalesce to hinder man’s journey, as thistles do not flourish next to figs, nor grapes beside thorns. On the contrary, toward each must be the most exact and perfect intent, each according to its kind. Yet I notice how often men will select paths which diverge one direction but also another, so that they turn distraught and querulous and toward midnight reaching for a pillow they find a stone, by dawn mistaking dung beetles for gods.
I BELIEVE THAT mankind subsists of four dissolving elements. Nevertheless, works fluctuate as do their private mercuries because calcination secures quick-silver and every imperfect body during disintegration fulfills itself with philosophic precipitate, which is mercurial water. What dissolves the sun dissolves also the moon, and harmony results from the analogy of opposites.
SHOULD THE MID-DAY sun be collected underneath a hollow glass it will focus its effort to burn inward with terrible passion, yet the burning rays from a human heart provide no discernible warmth. How is this? If astral coordinates achieve equilibrium I think the heart might generate and distribute adequate fluid, but if balances have been disrupted the corpus succumbs to drought, so variable and importunate is this devious organ.
I SUSPECT THAT blood resembles wine during its slow process of development. I would compare infant blood to grape-juice before fermentation, while that of an adolescent resembles fermenting Must. No doubt the blood of the aged is complete, liberated from harmful ebullience. Why, then, would old men expend themselves to gain frothy titles or deposit gilt paper in paper kingdoms? Each merits his scallop-shell of rest.
ATOMS OF BLOOD presumably are round and smooth, gliding past one another without discomfort—in contrast to those of iron, which must be harsh and coarse. Atoms comprising a soul I imagine to be gelatinous or immature because of unfulfilled promise. Atoms of flesh must be formless—inert and sluggish. As to the brain, I suspect its particles are nimble, elusive. Philosophers argue that we should not speculate like apostles on substantial employment since time works about us, quilting and scoring innocence. I myself think arguments of philosophy more fatuous and sterile than breezes ruffling the North Sea. What sick man hearing them ever shook off his grievance?
I PRESCRIBE LONG ocean voyages to counterbalance enervation because water serves as a powerful adjuvant toward phantasy, but if asked to explain this animus—I cannot. Or by gazing toward the wintry shoulder of Albristhorn I willingly rejoice with little comprehension. Hapless I reflect on my beginning in a yellow cloak, a student burrowing at darkness, an unread apothecary calculating circles by a cupping-glass whose vitals quaked at the sight of green wounds. I think I must be very far from the lap of eternity, stippled by pinchbeck rhetoric, Arabian conjecture. I am an alchymic doctor at the rim of the world and five days have I traveled without a compass.
I MARVEL THAT innocuous physics be administered while the rich rioting with extravagance weigh up possessions and multitudes languish outside the Mineral Gate. If motion be a quintessence of its compelling impetus, upon what authority should mankind anticipate the new dispensation? How shall we watch amber and cassia and rarities cast up to the shore?
BY WHAT LOGIC is the frog ugly? Was he not formed to express the nature of his inwardness? Therefore what man is deformed or vile or delirious except through a listener’s proclivity? Or how is any cleric served to preach and condemn in public if not to herald the commencement of idolatry? I would ask for the names and titles of six high priests that by virtue of their faith shook mountains apart to drive misconduct out. I ask how we could identify Satan except by his limping gait. Was this consequent upon man’s spiraling plunge from heaven? I would gather the purpose of Aramaic and Latin and Hebrew—if such tongues have been employed to praise diabolic agents. I would know what pseudonyms have been spoken by the Karcist lifting his hazel wand in the magic circle between two arches. Gnostics say divinity’s key was held by a snake that apprised us of its understanding, so how does grace penetrate any man dressed with disguise?
WHY A RUBIGINOUS toad simmered in oil cures leprosy I cannot decide, but it is apparent how evil welcomes evil, which explains why a toad sucks venom from phagadenic ulcers. Worms may grow inside a walnut despite an impenetrable shell just as malignancies are able to gain entrance and threaten a contented body, although I find no reasonable explanation. It seems obvious that apoplexies, convulsions and lethargies feed upon transient humors engaged by disaffected particles of thought during sleep since accretions evolve in solitude. But what accounts for this? If I do not know, what else am I than a farrier sporting the doctor’s miniver hat?
MONKSHOOD PLANT, JASMINE, tutia, camphor, mustard, pepper, anemones, passion flower, chymistry, sophistry, automata, logic, barbaric medicament, astronomy, exorcism and ancient craft—with so much am I familiar. Invigorating substances are known to me, or malleable metals that shine and ring. I could speak of pulverized resin, camel hair, bone marrow, luminescent ink, agents inhibiting rust. Clancular poisons as well as piss display their qualities like Japanese iron without pretext. Were it not for the introspective physician who should prescribe a treatment appropriate to humanity’s requirement?
