NOW WE LEARN of beakers filled with gold traveling from fire to fire at the laboratory of some Cambridge professor called Isaac Newton. Essences are said to grow outward like branches but through continuous circulation are persuaded to dissolve. This we compare to the craft of a skilled geometrician who by one stroke from his compass could describe a right line, yet rather traces a circuit or a different path. Mayhap our foreign chymist goes chasing the nonexistent light. Mayhap he defines no miracle superior to the next nor believes one element subservient. We ask what follows that could accord with the discipline or gospel of mystic art. Basil Valentine reminds us how a man with a quantity of flour will make dough, and he that has prepared dough will find his oven to bake it. Now we do but register with absolute fidelity what we collect, feeling content at the shape of the leaf.
RARE NEWS HAVE we regarding a parchment scroll from the hand of Thomas Charnock measuring eleven English feet in length by nine inches breadth, uncovered at his house in Combwich. It is said that six panels of the entrance to his work-shop were painted by this alchymist with very ingenious emblems, albeit coarsely drawn and tinted, suggesting some equivocal relation to the Opus. Also, by the hearth lay an instrument of queer design which he would use while attending the fire. And there is said to be a very ancient woman that remembers his daughter who supervised the work, but neglected her task one warm night so the flame went out. Charnock’s experiment seems forgot although many suspect he had cast a Brazen Head which was prepared to speak. Now such deformity could occur, we admit, yet as cautious scribes we make our reservation.
ARE WE NOT streaked with imagination among rudimentary idols? Do we not join sects and cultivate doubt and sow misbelief? Are we not dissident, vehement? Are we not quick at judgment? Pelican, ambix, aludel and retort. Trowel, tongs, sand-glass, drug-jar, croslet, beaker, sieve, bellows, spatula and funnel. Filter, pestle, mortar, crucible, flask, athanor, Philosophic Egg where art is born—upon this premise would we circumscribe the intersection of mankind. Bred to fractionate accumulations while riven by the pulse of life, squandering power on useless urgencies, invidious, undecided, men at their quotidian labor fly back and forth, winged seeds tossed by contrary wind.
BEYOND THE CIRCUMFERENCE of flesh how do we meet satisfaction? Plato, on his discourse regarding colors and tastes of water in rivers and seas, explains that perceptions vary by concord with the earth through which it flows, taking up every weight and molecule—transgression and deviation—much as the soul varies according to the temperament of its body. Consequently the motive for our universe is justified because the existence of each living thing has been affirmed with moving qualities. This we applaud, hearing a most admirable music.
WEIDENFELD EXCLAIMS UPON those innumerable gifts vouchsafed from above—which we do not hesitate either to acknowledge or reiterate day and night by consenting to the jurisdiction of our Lord. And as we are not loath to accept His blessing we have been called microcosm. Now, this estate we consider most excellent. We think it unlimited. How should men avoid the lees and puddles of earth on private initiative? Hence, Nature withholds from avaricious chymists Lapis Philosophorum toward which the future bends.
PLOTINUS HAS EXPLAINED how wisdom arrives swiftly by itself and brings with it an empyreal universe where entities seem diaphanous, while matter asserts itself to human faculties, living resplendent in each particular. Now since the majesty of God is intense and splendor radiates, what is untutored becomes great as the moon and sun and stars blend together.
WE ARE TOLD by François de Foix Candale, Bishop of Aire, how comprehension of celestial matters surpassing that allocated to Hebrew prophets—equaling that of apostles or evangelists—was acquired before the advent of Moses by Hermes Trismegistus. Further, we have heard Khunrath, Böhme, Freher, and Grasseus testifying to metaphysic art that not merely antedates but corresponds with Christian orthodoxality. Being pious notaries, we ask how the pure might be severed from the unholy, since God bestows grace wherever He decides—overlooking all that plead or beg. Also, we question the source of misbelief. Does it arise complacently out of ignorance? If so, we seem consigned to live doubly helpless since we exist not only unaware but incapable of departing from ignorance. Accordingly, we compare ourselves to a corpus indurated with disease which, oblivious to its torment, seeks no cure.
MEISTER TYMME SPEAKS of an Almighty proffering two ineffable volumes. And the wisdom of this first, which we call natural philosophy, urges us to exalt the produce emanating from our Savior’s hand, since He is in-dwelling—the efficacious cause toward which matters tend. But the wisdom of this second book opens upon subterraneous cosmography and therefore is closed to all save seraphic minds.
MEISTER BÖHME DECLARES that as he was born to the similitude and image of the Lord God he has opened but one single text. Like a child in its mother’s house that requests no guidance he bent himself to this restorative volume, excluding others, since as he looked to the palpitating surge of his own heart he understood the armature and structure of the world.
NOW, IN THAT model of the universe drawn up by Meister Fludd we notice an ape shackled to a woman representing celestial harmony, who is herself shackled to an inimitable presence beyond our sight. Thus are we linked to heaven with a chain, yet apostates argue that man is satisfied to emulate nature, content with senseless mimicry, exchanging forgotten dignity for immoderate power. This we dispute. As didactic historians it seems to us that man beset with trivial endowments must be superior to a discarded husk—greater than a
