About Mercury Philosophical Conversation between Mercury, an Alchemist, and Nature

About Mercury.
That is: A Philosophical, Natural, and Well-founded

Conversation between Mercury, an Alchemist, and Nature,
in which the properties of the Philosophical Mercury
are very clearly and brightly revealed.

Written for a trusted friend of the Chemical Muses by the author, who says:

Thus, make wise things.

Conversations of Mercury, an Alchemist, and Nature.

Once upon a time, the alchemists gathered and held counsel on how to create and prepare the Philosopher’s Stone. They decided that each should give their opinion by vote.

This gathering took place under the open sky, in a meadow, on a bright and clear day. Many agreed that Mercury was the primary matter of the stone, while others argued for Sulfur, and still others for something else.

However, the greatest number favored Mercury, particularly based on the sayings of the philosophers, since they considered it the true first matter—not only for the Philosopher’s Stone but also for metals in general. For the philosophers proclaim: "Our Mercury," etc.

As they debated among themselves through various experiments—each eagerly and joyfully awaiting the final decision—there suddenly arose a tremendous storm, with raging winds, torrential rain, and an unheard-of tempest. This violent storm scattered the assembly into different provinces, each alchemist sent off separately, without a conclusion.

Yet, each one imagined for themselves what the outcome of the dispute should have been.

Therefore, each alchemist resumed his work as before—one seeking the Philosopher’s Stone in this way, another in that. And so it has continued without end until now.

However, one of them, who still remembered the debate and was convinced that the Stone of the Philosophers must necessarily be sought in Mercury, said to himself: "Even though no conclusion was reached, I will nevertheless work with Mercury, and I will determine the conclusion myself once the blessed stone is created." For he was a man who was accustomed to speaking with himself, as alchemists often do.

Thus, he began to read philosophical books and came across the book of Alanus, which deals with Mercury. In this way, the alchemist became a philosopher—yet still without a final conclusion. He took Mercury and began his work, placed it in a glass vessel, and applied fire to it. But Mercury, as is its nature, evaporated.

The poor alchemist, ignorant of Nature’s ways, became enraged and struck his wife, exclaiming: "No one but you could have done this—you must have taken the Mercury from the glass!" His wife, weeping, protested her innocence and silently thought to herself: "You'll make nothing but filth out of this."

The alchemist once again took Mercury and placed it back into the vessel. To prevent his wife from taking it, he secured the container carefully. However, as was its nature, the Mercury evaporated once more.

Remembering that the first matter of the stone must be volatile, the alchemist rejoiced greatly and became fully convinced that he could no longer fail, now that he had obtained this material. He began handling the Mercury boldly, learning how to sublimate it, calcine it in marvelous ways—sometimes with salts, sometimes with sulfur, sometimes with metals, then with ores, sometimes with blood, sometimes with hair, with strong acids, then with herbs, urine, vinegar—but nothing led to the result he sought.

He left no substance in the world untouched, treating the Mercury with everything he could think of. Yet, since he achieved nothing, a certain saying came to his mind: "It is found in filth."

Thus, he began to treat Mercury with all kinds of dirt, both mixed and separately. Worn out and deep in thought, he eventually fell asleep.

In his dream, a vision appeared: an old man approached him, greeted him, and said, "Friend, why are you so sorrowful?"

The alchemist replied, "I wish to create the Philosopher’s Stone."

The old man then asked, "Friend, from what do you intend to make the Philosopher’s Stone?"

The alchemist answered, "Sir, from Mercury."

The old man continued, "But from which Mercury?"

The alchemist responded, "There is only one Mercury."

The old man said, "It is true that there is only one Mercury, but it is found in many different places—some purer than others."

The alchemist exclaimed, "Oh, sir, I know how to purify it in the best way—with vinegar and salt, nitre, and vitriol!"

The old man replied, "I tell you, this is not the true purification, nor is this the true Mercury. The wise men have another Mercury and another way of purifying it." And with that, he disappeared.

When the alchemist awoke from his sleep, he pondered what this vision could mean. He wondered what this Mercury of the Philosophers might be, but he could think of nothing other than his usual, common Mercury. Yet, he wished he could have spoken with the old man longer.

Nevertheless, he continued his work diligently—first using the dung of animals and boys, and later, he even began working with his own excrement. Every day, he returned to the place where he had seen the vision, hoping to speak to the old man again. At times, he pretended to sleep, lying with closed eyes, waiting for the old man to reappear.

When the old man did not return, the alchemist assumed he was afraid and did not believe he was truly asleep. So, he swore aloud: "My old master, do not be afraid! I am truly asleep. If you do not believe me, just look at my eyes!"

Thus, after so much labor and the waste of all his wealth, the poor alchemist fell into madness, constantly thinking of the old man.

From this overwhelming obsession, a phantasm appeared to him in his sleep, taking the form of the old man. The apparition spoke:

"Do not despair, my friend. Your Mercury and your matter are good. But if he does not obey you, then summon him, so that he will not flee. After all, people charm snakes—why not Mercury?"

And with that, the old man prepared to leave. But the alchemist pleaded, crying out, "Master, wait!"

His own shouting startled him awake—yet not without a small sense of hope.

Afterward, the alchemist took a vessel full of Mercury and began to conjure it in a marvelous way, just as his dream had taught him. Remembering the words of the old man, who had said, "Snakes are charmed, and Mercury is depicted with snakes," he thought he must surely conjure it in the same way as a snake.

So, he took the vessel with Mercury and began to speak: "Ux, ux, ost as," and wherever the name of a snake was supposed to be, he replaced it with the name of Mercury, saying: "And you, Mercury, you most cunning beast," and so on.

At these words, Mercury began to laugh and spoke to the alchemist, saying:

"What do you want? Why do you trouble me, my lord alchemist?"

The alchemist, astonished, replied:

"Oh ho! Now you call me 'lord' when I seize you alive. Now I have found a bridle for you—just wait, you will soon dance to my tune!"

He then boldly addressed Mercury, almost in anger:

"Are you not the Mercury of the Philosophers?"

Mercury, as if frightened, responded:

"My lord, I am Mercury."

The alchemist pressed on:

"Why have you refused to obey me? Why have you not allowed me to make you fixed?"

Mercury pleaded:

"Oh, most excellent lord, I beg you, have mercy on me, a poor wretch! I did not know that you were such a great philosopher."

The alchemist retorted:

"Did you not recognize it from my labors, when I proceeded so philosophically with you?"

Mercury conceded:

"It is true, my most excellent lord. Yet, I wished to remain hidden. But alas, I see now that I can no longer conceal myself from my most excellent master."

Alchemist: "Do you now recognize me as a philosopher?"

Mercury: "As a very great one, my lord! I see that your most excellent lordship is the most sublime philosopher of all."

Alchemist: (rejoicing in his heart, says) "Now I have surely found what I have been seeking!" Then, addressing Mercury again in a fearsome voice, he says: "Aha! Now you must obey me, or things will not go well for you."

Mercury: "Very gladly, my lord, if only I could, for I am very weak."

Alchemist: "What excuses are you making now?"

Mercury: "No excuses, my lord, but truly, I am weak."

Alchemist: "What has harmed you?"

Mercury: "The alchemist has harmed me."

Alchemist: "What? Are you mocking me again?"

Mercury: "Oh, my lord, I am speaking of the alchemists. But you are a philosopher."

Alchemist: "Oh, well, well! That is true. But what has the alchemist done to you?"

Mercury: "Oh, my lord, he has done me great harm! He has mixed me, poor as I am, with all sorts of contrary things, so that I cannot regain my strength and am nearly dead—I have been tormented almost to death!"

Alchemist: "Oh! You well deserve it, since you are so disobedient!"

Mercury: "I have never been disobedient to a philosopher, but by my nature, I mock fools."

Alchemist: "And what do you think of me?"

Mercury: "Oh, lord! You are a great man, the greatest philosopher of all. With your greatness, you surpass Hermes himself!"

Alchemist: "Indeed, it is so! I am a learned man. But I will not praise myself—though my wife tells me that I am a learned philosopher. She has recognized it in me."

Mercury: "I believe it easily! For such must be the philosophers—who, from too much wisdom and labor, turn into fools."

Alchemist: "Well then, tell me, what should I do with you? How must I make from you the Philosopher’s Stone?"

Mercury: "Oh, my lord philosopher, that I do not know."

Mercury: "You are a philosopher; I am a servant of the philosophers. Whatever they wish to make of me, they make—I obey them as much as I can."

Alchemist: "You must tell me how I should proceed with you and whether I can make the Philosopher’s Stone from you."

Mercury: "If you know, you will make it; but if you do not know, you will make nothing. You will learn nothing from me if you do not already know, my lord philosopher."

Alchemist: "You speak to me as if I were a simpleton. Perhaps you do not know that I have worked for great princes and was a philosopher in their service?"

Mercury: "Oh, I believe that quite easily, my lord! For I know it best—indeed, I still reek from the mixture of that work!"

Alchemist: "Tell me, then, are you the Mercury of the philosophers?"

Mercury: "I am Mercury; but whether I am the Philosophorum, that you must determine."

Alchemist: "Tell me only, are you the true Mercury, or is there another?"

Mercury: "I am Mercury, but there is another as well."

And with that, he vanished.

The alchemist cried out and spoke, but no one answered him. And as he thought to himself, "Truly, I am the best man! Mercury has spoken with me—surely, he loves me!" he began once more to sublimate, distill, calcine, make Turbith, precipitate, dissolve in wondrous ways, using all sorts of waters. But just as he had undertaken these tasks in vain before, he wasted his time and expenses in vain once again.

At last, he began cursing Mercury and blaspheming Nature for having created him. But when Nature heard this, she called Mercury to her and said:

"What have you done to this man?"

Nature: "What does he curse me for, because of you, and blaspheme me? Why do you not perform what you owe?"

But Mercury humbly excused himself. Nature then commanded him to obey those sons of Nature who seek him. Mercury promised that he would do so and said:

"Mother Nature, but who will fulfill enough for these fools?"

Nature smiled and departed, while Mercury became angry with the alchemist and went to his own place.

After a few days, the alchemist remembered that he had missed something in his work. He decided to return to Mercury and mixed him with pig manure. But Mercury was enraged that he had been accused so poorly before Mother Nature and said to the alchemist:

"You fool! What do you want from me? Why did you accuse me?"

Alchemist: "Are you the one I sought to see?"

Mercury: "I am. But no blind man can see me."

Alchemist: "I am not blind."

Mercury: "You are very blind, for you do not see yourself. How then could you see me?"

Alchemist: "Oh! Now you are proud. I speak to you humbly, and you disdain me like this. Do you not know that I have worked for many princes and was a philosopher at their courts?"

Mercury: "Fools run to the courts of princes, for there they are honored and treated well above others. Were you also at court?"

Alchemist: "Oh! You are the devil, not a good Mercury, if you wish to speak like this to the philosophers. You have already led me astray before."

Mercury: "Do you not know the philosophers?"

Alchemist: "I am a philosopher myself."

Mercury: "See our philosopher," he said, smiling. And he continued speaking to him, saying:

"My philosopher, tell me, what do you seek, and what do you want to have? What do you desire to make?"

Alchemist: "The Philosopher’s Stone."

Mercury: "Oh, my philosopher, now I will depart, since I am not yours."

Alchemist: "Oh! You are nothing, and you want to deceive me."

Mercury: "Indeed, my philosopher, you are a devil to me, but I am not to you. You have treated me in the most devilish manner."

Alchemist: "What am I hearing! This is certainly the devil: for I follow all the writings of the philosophers, and I know how to work better than anyone."

Mercury: "You know it better than anyone: you do more than you know, and more than you read. The philosophers said to mix nature with nature, and they command nothing outside of nature; but you have already mixed me with the dirtiest things, with dung."

Alchemist: "I do nothing outside of nature; I sow the seed in its earth, as the philosophers said."

Mercury: "You sow me in dung, and when the harvest comes, I will disappear. You are only reaping filth."

Alchemist: "But the philosophers wrote that one should search for their matter in the dung."

Mercury: "What the philosophers wrote is true; but you understand the letters, not their meaning and wisdom."

Alchemist: "Now I see that you may be the true Mercury, but you will not obey me." And he began to summon him again, saying: "ux, ux!" But Mercury answered, laughing:

"My friend, you will accomplish nothing."

Alchemist: "They do not speak in vain of you, you are strange, unstable, and fleeting."

Mercury: "You tell me I am unstable, but I will explain this to you. I am steady for a steadfast artist; I am fixed for a stable mind. But you and your kind are unstable, drifting from one thing to another, and from one material to another."

Alchemist: "Tell me, then, are you the same Mercury of whom the philosophers have written, saying that with sulfur and salt, you are the beginning of all things? Or must one look for another?"

Mercury: "Indeed, the fruit does not fall far from the tree. But I do not seek my honor; I am the same as I have always been. But my years are unequal. In the beginning, I was young as long as I was alone; but now I am older, yet still the same as I was before."

Alchemist: "Now you please me, that you are older, for I have always sought one who is more timely and fixed, so that I could more easily come to terms with him."

Mercury: "You seek me in vain in age, you who did not know me in youth."

Alchemist: "Did I not know you, having always treated you in a marvelous way, as you yourself have said? And I will not stop until I bring about the Philosopher's Stone."

Mercury: "Oh, poor me! What shall I do, perhaps to be mixed with dung again? They torment me once more. Oh, poor me! I beg you, oh, Lord Philosopher, do not mix me with pig dung. For if you do, I will perish, for this stench will force me to change my form. And what do you want me to do further? Am I not already tormented enough? Do I not obey you? Do I not mix with whatever you wish? Am I not a Sublimate? Am I not a Precipitate? Am I not a Turbith? Am I not an Amalgam? Am I not a jack-of-all-trades? What more do you want from me now? My body has already been scourged and spat upon so much that a stone could have mercy on me. From me, you have milk; from me, you have flesh; from me, butter; from me, oil; from me, water. And what other metals and minerals could do this, what I alone can do, and there is no mercy for me. Oh, poor me!"

Alchemist: "Oh ho! It does not harm you; you are a trickster: even if you change in many ways, you still do not change yourself, unless you disguise your form, but you always return to your original form."

Mercury: "I do as you wish: if you want me to be a body, I am a body; if you want me to be a powder, I am a powder. I do not know how I should humble myself further, except to become powder and nothing."

Alchemist: "Then tell me, who are you at your core? And so I will no longer torment you."

Mercury: "Now I am forced to speak with you from the bottom: if you wish, you can understand me. You see my form: it is not necessary for me to speak of it; but when you ask me about my core, my core is the most fixed, immortal, and penetrating heart: in it is the rest of my master; I, however, am the way and the runner, the foreigner and the native: I am the most loyal to all my helpers, I do not forsake those who accompany me, I remain with them, I come with them. I am an immortal body: I die if I am killed, but before the judgment, in front of a wise master, I rise again."

Alchemist: "Then, are you the Philosopher's Stone?"

Mercury: "My mother is like this; from her, something is born through art, but my brother, who lives in the castle, has what the philosopher desires in his will."

Alchemist: "Are you not old?"

Mercury: "My mother bore me; but I am older than the mother."

Alchemist: "What devil can understand you, since you do not answer my question and always speak in parables? Tell me, are you the Fontina that Bernhardus Comes Trevisanus wrote about?"

Mercury: "I am not the Fontina, but I am a water; the Fontina surrounded me."

Alchemist: "Will not the gold be dissolved in you because you are water?"

Mercury: "What is with me, I love, like a friend; and what is born with me, I nourish; and what is naked, I cover with my wings."

Alchemist: "I see that it is impossible to speak with you: you ask about other things, and from other things you speak to me. If you do not wish to answer properly, I shall surely return to work with you."

Mercury: "Oh, my Lord! I beg you, be merciful to me: now I will gladly tell you what I know."

Alchemist: "Tell me then, do you fear fire?"

Mercury: "I am fire itself."

Alchemist: "And why do you still flee from fire?"

Mercury: "My spirit loves the spirit of fire, and one clothes the other wherever it can."

Alchemist: "And where do you usually go when you rise with the fire?"

Mercury: "Know this: every stranger always seeks his homeland, and when he arrives where he left from, he rests, and always returns wiser than when he departed."

Alchemist: "Will you not return one day?"

Mercury: "I will return, but in another form."

Alchemist: "I do not understand what this is, nor anything about the fire."

Mercury: "If someone knows the fire of my heart, he has seen that fire (the proper warmth) is my food; and the longer the spirit of my heart feeds the fire, the fatter it becomes, whose death is thereafter the life of all things that are always in this kingdom, wherever I am."

Alchemist: "Are you not great?"

Mercury: "You have an example in me: from a thousand drops, I become one; from one, I give many thousand drops. And just as my body is before your eyes, when you know how to play with me, you can divide me as much as you want, and I will still be one. What then should the spirit (my heart) do inwardly, which always brings forth thousands from the smallest part?"

Alchemist: "And what must I do with you to make you thus?"

Mercury: "I am a fire inwardly; fire is my food; but the life of fire is air. Without air, the fire will be extinguished; the fire surpasses the air, therefore I do not rest, nor can raw air pull me together. Add air to air so that they both become one, and hold the weight; unite them with dry fire, and give them time to preserve."

Alchemist: "What will happen afterward?"

Mercury: "The excess will be removed; the remainder should be burned with fire: place it in water, boil it; then give the boiled substance to the sick as medicine."

Alchemist: "You tell me nothing of my questions; I see that you only wish to deceive me with parables."

Alchemist (calling out): "Woman! Bring me pig manure! I will treat this Mercury in a new way until he tells me how the Philosopher's Stone is to be made from him."

When Mercury heard this, he began to complain about the Alchemist; and he went to Mother Nature, accusing the ungrateful worker. Nature believed her son, Mercury, who is trustworthy, and thus angrily came to the Alchemist and called out to him:

Nature: "Holla! Where are you?"

Alchemist: "Who is there calling me?"

Nature: "You fool! How are you treating my son? Why are you doing him so much harm? Why are you torturing him, when he wants to do good for you, if only you would understand?"

Alchemist: "Who is insulting me? A man and philosopher like me?"

Nature: "Oh, you fool, who is full of pride, and a filth of philosophers! I know the philosophers and all the wise ones, whom I love, for they love me too, and do everything to please me, and where I cannot go, they help me. But you alchemists, of whom you are one, do everything against me, without my knowledge and permission, even all manner of harm, and that is why you will meet your own ruin. You think you treat my sons well, but you achieve nothing: and when you look at it properly, you do not treat them, but they treat you; for you still do not know how to make anything of them, but they make fools of you whenever they wish."

Alchemist: "It is not true! I am also a philosopher and know how to work. I have not been with a prince (1), and was a philosopher with them, which my wife also knows; and I now have a written book that was hidden for several hundred years in a certain wall. Now I will certainly know how to make the Philosopher’s Stone, and even these days, it was revealed to me in a dream. Oh! I have true dreams, you know it, wife!"

Nature: "You will do it just as your colleagues do, who at first know everything and think they know it; but in the end, it is nothing."

Alchemist: "However, others usually make it from you (when you are the true nature)."

Nature: "That is true; but only those who have truly known me, and they are few. But whoever knows me does not torment my sons nor hinder me; rather, they follow my will, increase my wealth, and heal the bodies of my sons."

Alchemist: "But I do so."

Nature: "You do me all kinds of harm and proceed against my will with my sons. Where you should bring life, you kill; where you should fix, you sublimate; where you should calcine, you distill, especially my most obedient son, Mercury, whom you torment with so many corrosive waters and toxic things."

Alchemist: "Well, I will proceed gently with him, through digestion alone."

Nature: "Fine, if you know how; if not, you will harm not him, but yourself, and at your own expense, for it matters little to him. He mixes with manure just as he does with noble stone: he is always good, and the manure does not diminish him, even when he is thrown into it; when he is washed, he is still the same noble stone that he was before."

Alchemist: "But I would like to know how to make the Philosopher's Stone."

Nature: "Therefore, do not treat my son in this way. Know that I have many sons and daughters, and I help those who seek me, when they are worthy."

Nature: "You should know that I only have one such son, who is one of seven, and the first; he is everything in all, who was only one: nothing is, and whose number is complete; in him are the four elements, yet he is no element; he is a spirit, yet has a body; he is a man, and yet represents the place of a woman; he is a boy, and carries male weapons; he is an animal and has wings like a bird; he is a poison, yet heals leprosy; he is life, yet kills all; he is a king, but another possesses his kingdom; he flees with fire, yet fire is made from him; he is water, yet does not wet; he is earth, yet is sown; he is air, yet lives in water."

Alchemist: "Now I see that I know nothing, but I must not say it, for I would lose my good reputation, and my neighbor would no longer help me if he knew that I knew nothing. Yet I will say that I certainly know it, otherwise no one will give me bread, for many of them hope for many goods from me."

Nature: "And if you drag it out, what will happen next? Meanwhile, your neighbors will want to get their expenses back from you."

Alchemist: "I will feed them all with hope as long as I can."

Nature: "And finally, what then?"

Alchemist: "I will quietly try different works, and if it succeeds, I will pay. If not, I will go to another country and do the same there."

Nature: "What will happen next?"

Alchemist: "Ha, ha, ha! There are many countries, and many greedy people. I will promise them a great amount of gold, and that in the shortest time. And so one day after the other will pass, meanwhile either the king, or the donkey, or I will die."

Nature: "A noose is likely waiting for such philosophers. Pack up and quickly end your philosophy at the gallows, for with this single advice, you will neither deceive me, nor your neighbor, much less yourself."