Alchemy and the Alchemists historical and critical essay on hermetic philosophy

Alchemy and the Alchemists

historical and critical essay

on

hermetic philosophy.

by Louis Figuier.


third edition.

Paris 1880


Transcription PSP
TABLE


PREFACE .......... 4

PRESENTATION OF THE DOCTRINES AND WORKS OF THE ALCHEMISTS. .......... 6

CHAPTER I.
Fundamentals of Alchemy. — Properties attributed to the philosopher's stone ............ 29

CHAPTER II.
Means employed by the alchemists for the preparation of the philosopher's stone. 64

CHAPTER III.
Proofs invoked by alchemists in support of their doctrines ............ 96

CHAPTER IV.
Chemical discoveries of the Hermetic philosophers ............ 108

CHAPTER V.
Adversaries of alchemy. — Decadence of Hermetic opinions ............ 120

ALCHEMY IN MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE SOCIETY.

CHAPTER I.
Importance of alchemy during the last three centuries. — Protectors and adversaries of this science. — Alchemy and Sovereigns. — Hermetic currencies .............. ...... 151

CHAPTER II.
The private life of alchemists ............ 172

HISTORY OF THE MAIN METAL TRANSMUTATIONS.

CHAPTER I.
Nicolas Flamel ............... 221

CHAPTER II.
Edward Kelley .............. 248

CHAPTER III.
Transmutations attributed to Van Helmont, Helvetius and Bérigard of Pisa. —Martini. — Richtausen and Emperor Ferdinand III. — Pastor Gros. 259

CHAPTER IV.
The Cosmopolitan .............. 271
Alexandre Sethon ...... ..... 272
​​Michel Sendivogius .......... 295

CHAPTER V.
The Society of Rosicrucian...... 310

CHAPTER VI.
Philalethes ................... 334

CHAPTER VII.
Lascaris and his envoys ........ 349
Bötticher .................. 375
Delisle ................ ... 386
Gaëtano ............... 394

ALCHEMY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.


Preface


DESPITE the deep discredit into which it has fallen since the end of the last century, alchemy has not lost the privilege of arousing curiosity and seducing the imagination. The mystery that envelops it, the marvelous side attributed to its doctrines, the fantastic renown that attaches to the memory of its adepts, all this half-veiled ensemble of realities and illusions, of truths and chimeras, still exerts a singular prestige on certain minds. Also, since Aurélius Augurelle, who composed, in 1514, his Latin poem Chrysopoïa until the author of Faust, the poets and the makers of legends did not fail to go to draw from this fertile source, and the imagination reigned supreme in this curious domain, the exploration of which scientists neglected. Alchemy is the least known part of the history of science. The obscurity of the hermetic writings, the generally widespread opinion that research relating to the philosopher's stone and to the transmutation of metals are only an assemblage of absurdities and madness, have diverted the attention of scholars from this subject. We can, however, dismiss without too much difficulty the difficulties which the obscure style of the alchemists presents to the examination of their ideas.

As for the opinion which condemns all their works as senseless or ridiculous, on many points it is false, on almost all it is exaggerated. Were alchemy, moreover, the most notable monument to the madness of men, its study would still not be neglected. It is good to follow the activity of thought even in its strangest aberrations. Turn your eyes away from the errors of humanity, it is not serving her; to investigate, on the contrary, into what abysses reason could have fallen, is to add to the legitimate pride that its triumphs inspire in us. Let us finally say that alchemy is the mother of modern chemistry; the work of the followers of Hermes provided the basis of the present edifice of chemical sciences. These doctrines are therefore of interest to the history of science as much as that of philosophy.

The work, or rather the essay, which I submit to public judgment, is intended to draw attention to this period of science in the past. Here is the order that I thought I could adopt for the distribution of materials.

The first part is devoted to an analytical presentation of the opinions and doctrines professed by the Hermetic philosophers. One will find there the summary table of the work carried out by the alchemists for the search for the philosopher's stone, and the summary of the principal chemical discoveries which are due to them.

The second part is a kind of historical study where we try to fix the role that alchemy played in the society of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, a time when, as we know, it exerted the most influence. takes over the minds.

The third part, entitled History of the principal metallic transmutations, is a summary of the strange events which maintained for so long in Europe the belief in the doctrines of transmutatory science. We have taken care to give for each of these facts, so marvelous in appearance, the explanation which seems the most probable today.

The last part, Alchemy in the Nineteenth Century, aims to show that alchemical opinions are not completely abandoned today, and to highlight the reasons that some people still invoke to justify them.

We make it a point to point out the sources we used for this series of studies. The learned work of Mr. Hermann Kopp, Geschiste der Chemie, published in 1844, has provided us with valuable documents relating to the exhibition of the work carried out by alchemists in the search for the philosopher's stone. We found in the already old book by G, de Hoghelande, Historiae aliquot transmutationis metallicae, some interesting accounts of transmutations. But it is mainly from the special work on the history of alchemy, published in Halle, in 1832, by Schmieder, professor of philosophy at Cassel (Geschichte der Alchemie), that we have borrowed the most useful information for facts of this kind. Composed by a declared supporter of alchemical ideas,

Contrary to the rules of logic, which require that we deduce the conclusions after the premises, contrary to the rules of algebra, which prescribe to proceed from the known to the unknown, we will pose here the general conclusion which results from the work which we will read, and state in all its clarity the thought which dominates it. The general conclusion of this book is as follows:

The present state of chemistry prevents the fact of the transmutation of metals from being considered impossible; it results from recently acquired scientific data and the current spirit of chemistry, that the transformation of one metal into another could be carried out. But, on the other hand, history shows us that until today no one has realized the phenomenon of metallic transmutation.

Thus the transmutation of a metal into gold is possible, but we are not entitled to affirm that it has never been carried out. Such is our clear and precise thought on this much debated subject.

We would welcome the announcement of the positive discovery of the transmutation of metals, but here is the reason that would make us accept this discovery with joy. To the happy experimenter who has succeeded in transforming a foreign metal into gold, we would address this prayer, to immediately apply his secret or his method of artificially composing iron, this last metal being for present-day society a completely different one. importance, of a completely different use than gold itself. For the development of agriculture and industry, for the accomplishment of public work, in a word for the happiness of societies, the king of metals is iron, and not gold.



EXHIBITS THE DOCTRINES AND WORKS OF THE ALCHEMISTS

THE OBJECT of alchemy is, as everyone knows, the transmutation of metals; changing base metals into noble metals, making gold or silver by artificial means, such was the goal of this singular science which has no less than fifteen centuries of duration.

The principle of metallic transmutation probably found its source in the observation of the first phenomena of chemistry. As soon as experience had made known what modifications, what surprising transformations provoke the mutual action of bodies brought together, the hope of making gold must have taken hold of the minds of men. Seeing the numerous alterations that metals undergo under the influence of the simplest treatments, it was believed that they could produce a more profound modification in their intimate nature, form precious metals from scratch, and thus imitate the rarest productions of nature. .

At the beginning of science, such a problem was fundamentally quite legitimate; but, in a similar question, the training of human passions aroused an element too opposed to philosophical dispositions. These attempts, which should have offered the nascent chemistry only a secondary and passing problem, became the goal of all his work, and for twelve centuries summed it up in its entirety. It was only towards the middle of the 16th century that a few scientists, discouraged by so many useless efforts, began to raise the first barriers between alchemy, or the so-called art of the gold makers, and chemistry. considered as an independent science free from any particular goal. and for twelve centuries summarized it in full. It was only towards the middle of the 16th century that a few scientists, discouraged by so many useless efforts, began to raise the first barriers between alchemy, or the so-called art of the gold makers, and chemistry. considered as an independent science free from any particular goal. and for twelve centuries summarized it in full. It was only towards the middle of the 16th century that a few scientists, discouraged by so many useless efforts, began to raise the first barriers between alchemy, or the so-called art of the gold makers, and chemistry. considered as an independent science free from any particular goal.

At what time and in what nation should we place the birth of alchemy? To give an imposing idea of ​​their science, the followers wanted to postpone its origin to the earliest ages of the world. Olœus Borrichius, in his Latin work on the Origin and Progress of Chemistry, dates this science back to the times of creation, since he places its cradle in the workshops of Tubalcain, the blacksmith of Scripture. However, the majority of alchemists were content to attribute this discovery to Hermes Trismegistus, that is to say three times great, who reigned among the ancient Egyptians, and whom these people revered as the inventor of all useful arts, and had, as such, elevated to the rank of his gods.

It is easy to understand why the first supporters of alchemy took pride in ennobling their science by confusing its beginnings with those of humanity and granting it ancient Egypt as its homeland. But what is surprising is that a modern writer should have adopted such an opinion and given it the weight of his authority and his enlightenment. In his History of Chemistry, Dr. Hoëfer endeavored to demonstrate that research relating to the transmutation of metals dates back to the most ancient times, and that they were part of this body of knowledge designated under the name of sacred art, which is said to have been cultivated since historic times in the depths of Egyptian temples. We are reluctant, in principle, to accept this widespread opinion, that the ancient Egyptians possessed the treasures of all human science. Because a profound mystery has always hidden from the eyes of history the work to which the priests of Thebes and Memphis devoted themselves, in their silent retreats, we are not, it seems to us, authorized to grant them the notion of everything that human genius can give birth to. The opposite reasoning would seem more logical to us.

The Egyptians undoubtedly made use of practical procedures and empirical recipes applicable to the needs of the arts. But all these facts were not linked into a body of science. If, since the Middle Ages, this prejudice has spread that the Egyptians possessed profound knowledge of chemistry, it is because the singular emblems, the bizarre characters which covered the exterior of their monuments, remaining then impenetrable to all, made the vulgar think that these mysterious signs were intended to represent, on the various branches of human science, revelations lost since that time. But the absence of any positive documents capable of revealing the nature and extent of the scientific work of these peoples makes it possible to contest such high knowledge.

With regard to alchemy in particular, as all the written documents concerning it do not go back beyond the 4th century of the Christian era, it is a matter of sound historical criticism not to fix its origin higher than this era. made the common people think that these mysterious signs were intended to represent, on the various branches of human science, revelations lost since that time. But the absence of any positive documents capable of revealing the nature and extent of the scientific work of these peoples makes it possible to contest such high knowledge. With regard to alchemy in particular, as all the written documents concerning it do not go back beyond the 4th century of the Christian era, it is a matter of sound historical criticism not to fix its origin higher than this era.

made the common people think that these mysterious signs were intended to represent, on the various branches of human science, revelations lost since that time. But the absence of any positive documents capable of revealing the nature and extent of the scientific work of these peoples makes it possible to contest such high knowledge. With regard to alchemy in particular, as all the written documents concerning it do not go back beyond the 4th century of the Christian era, it is a matter of sound historical criticism not to fix its origin higher than this era. But the absence of any positive documents capable of revealing the nature and extent of the scientific work of these peoples makes it possible to contest such high knowledge. With regard to alchemy in particular, as all the written documents concerning it do not go back beyond the 4th century of the Christian era, it is a matter of sound historical criticism not to fix its origin higher than this era. But the absence of any positive documents capable of revealing the nature and the extent of the scientific work of these peoples makes it possible to challenge such high knowledge. With regard to alchemy in particular, as all the written documents which concern it do not go back beyond the fourth century of the Christian era, it is sound historical criticism not to fix its origin higher than this era.

The works we are talking about belong to Byzantine authors. It is therefore probable that alchemy originated among the scholars of the Late Empire, in this happy Byzantium where letters and the arts found a refuge in the 4th century against the agitations which then upset all the great States of Europe.
The first alchemical writings from Byzantine writers date back to the 7th century. Egypt was then considered the cradle of all human sciences.

To lend more authority to their works, the Byzantine authors thought of attributing them to the very pen of the god Hermes. This is how the alchemical bibliography was enriched by a considerable number of treatises which were falsely related to people belonging to very earlier periods. These treatises, the majority of which exist in manuscript, are found today in various libraries in Europe, and Dr. Hoëfer has brought some of them to light in his History of Chemistry. But it is easy to be convinced by the style, the writing, the paper of these manuscripts,

It is therefore to the scholars of Constantinople that the first research relating to the transmutation of metals should be attributed. But the Greek scholars maintained continual relations with the school of Alexandria; also alchemy was cultivated almost simultaneously in Greece and in Egypt. In the seventh century, the invasion of Egypt by the Arabs suspended for some time the course of scientific work; but once the new people was firmly established on the soil of conquest, the torch of the sciences was rekindled.

The Arabs, continuing the researches of the school of Alexandria, devoted themselves with ardor to the study of the hermetic work. Soon alchemy was introduced to all the nations where the Arabs had carried the triumph of their arms. In the 20th century, she penetrated with them into Spain, which became, in a few years, the most active center of alchemical work. From the 9th to the 11th century, while the whole world was plunged into the deepest barbarism, Spain alone preserved the precious deposit of sciences. The small number of enlightened men scattered throughout Europe sought in the schools of Cordoba, Murcia, Seville, Granada and Toledo, the tradition of liberal knowledge, and this is how alchemy was gradually spread In Occident. Also, when the Arab domination was destroyed in Spain, alchemy had already conquered a new country on the soil of the West. Arnauld de Villeneuve, Saint Thomas, Raymond Lully, Roger Bacon, had drawn from the Arabs the taste for hermetic works.

The numerous writings of these famous men, the brilliance of their name, the fame of their lives, quickly spread in Europe a science which offered easy nourishment to the passion of men. In the fifteenth century, alchemy was cultivated throughout the Christian world. The 17th century saw the peak of its triumph; but, having then descended from the writings and the laboratory of scientists into the ignorance and imagination of the vulgar, it prepared its ruin by the excess of its follies.

It was at this time that the favorable split took place which was to give birth to modern chemistry. At the beginning of the 17th century, a few scientists, frightened by the long overflow of alchemical errors, began to tear science away from the deplorable paths into which it had wandered for so long.

The transmutation of metals had until then been considered the highest problem, or rather the sole goal of chemical research. From this moment on, the field of work expanded, and without completely abandoning the old hermetic beliefs, chemistry was made into a broader science, independent of any particular problem, and embracing the immense circle of molecular and reciprocal action. bodies.

The countless observations collected by the alchemists became the elements of this late revolution; more wisely interpreted, they soon opened a favorable path to the study of natural truths. However, the definitive triumph took a long time to achieve; the new school of chemists had to conquer the ground step by step. The fight was difficult, and this period in the history of science is full of adventures. The ancient chimera of the great work had planted such deep roots in people's minds that it retained stubborn sectarians and unshakeable defenders until the end of the last century. Victory was only decidedly acquired after the memorable reform carried out in the chemical sciences by the genius of Lavoisier.

they soon opened a path favorable to the study of natural truths. However, the definitive triumph took a long time to achieve; the new school of chemists had to conquer the ground step by step. The fight was difficult, and this period in the history of science is full of adventures. The ancient chimera of the great work had planted such deep roots in people's minds that it retained stubborn sectarians and unshakeable defenders until the end of the last century.

Victory was only decidedly acquired after the memorable reform carried out in the chemical sciences by the genius of Lavoisier. they soon opened a path favorable to the study of natural truths. However, the definitive triumph took a long time to achieve; the new school of chemists had to conquer the ground step by step. The fight was difficult, and this period in the history of science is full of adventures. The ancient chimera of the great work had planted such deep roots in people's minds that it retained stubborn sectarians and unshakeable defenders until the end of the last century. Victory was only decidedly acquired after the memorable reform carried out in the chemical sciences by the genius of Lavoisier.

The fight was difficult, and this period in the history of science is full of adventures. The ancient chimera of the great work had planted such deep roots in people's minds that it retained stubborn sectarians and unshakeable defenders until the end of the last century. Victory was only decidedly acquired after the memorable reform carried out in the chemical sciences by the genius of Lavoisier.

The fight was difficult, and this period in the history of science is full of adventures. The ancient chimera of the great work had planted such deep roots in people's minds that it retained stubborn sectarians and unshakeable defenders until the end of the last century. Victory was only decidedly acquired after the memorable reform carried out in the chemical sciences by the genius of Lavoisier.

This short historical overview sufficiently summarizes the general idea that we must present of alchemy before approaching the exposition of its doctrines. Let us now enter into the analysis of its principles and theories.



CHAPTER ONE

FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF ALCHEMY. —— PROPERTIES ATTRIBUTED TO THE PHILOSOPHAL STONE.

ON what basis, on what foundation did the doctrine of the transmutation of metals rest? It was based on two principles that we find invoked at every moment in the writings of alchemists: the theory of the composition of metals, and that of their generation in the heart of the globe.

The alchemists regarded metals as compound bodies; they also admitted that their composition was uniform. According to them, all the substances exhibiting the metallic character were constituted by the union of two common elements, sulfur and mercury; the difference in properties that we notice among the various metals was due only to the variable proportions of mercury and sulfur entering into their composition. Thus gold was formed of a great deal of very pure mercury, united to a small quantity of very pure sulfur also; copper, of roughly equal proportions of these two elements; tin, a lot of badly fixed sulfur and a little impure mercury, &c.

This is what Geber tells us in his Abridgement of the Perfect Magisterium:
“The sun (gold), he says, is formed of a very subtle mercury and a little very pure sulfur, fixed and clear, which has a distinct redness; and as this sulfur is not equally colored and there are some which are more dyed than the other, this also means that gold is more or less yellow... When sulfur is impure , coarse, red, livid, that its greatest part is fixed and the least non-fixed, and that it mixes with a coarse and impure mercury in such a way that there is hardly either more or less of the one than the other, from this mixture Venus (copper) is formed... If the sulfur has little fixity and an impure whiteness, if the mercury is impure, partly fixed and partly volatile, and it only has an imperfect whiteness, from this mixture it will be made Jupiter (tin). »

This sulfur and mercury, elements of metals, were not, moreover, identical to ordinary sulfur and mercury. The mercurius of the alchemists represents the proper element of metals, the cause of their brilliance, of their ductility, in a word of metallicity; sulfur indicates the combustible element.

This is the theory on the nature of metals which forms the basis of alchemical opinions. We understand in fact that its direct consequence is the possibility of carrying out transmutations. If the elements of the metals are the same, we can hope, by varying, by suitable actions, the proportion of these elements, to change these bodies into each other, to transform mercury into silver, lead into gold, etc.

We do not know who is the author of this theory, remarkable in itself as the first manifestation of scientific thought, and which was accepted until the middle of the 16th century. The Arab Geber, in the 8th century, was the first to mention it, but he did not take credit for its discovery; he reports it “to the elders”.

The theory of the generation of metals is quite clearly formulated in most alchemical treatises. In accordance with a system of ideas which enjoyed absolute credit in the philosophy of the Middle Ages, the Hermetic writers compare the formation of metals to animal generation, they see no difference between the development of the fetus in the womb of animals and the development of a mineral in the heart of the globe.

“Alchemists,” says Boerhaave, “note that all created beings owe their birth to others of the same species who existed before them; that plants are born from other plants, animals from other animals and fossils from other fossils. They claim that the entire generative faculty is hidden in a seed which forms the materials in its likeness and makes them little by little similar to the original... This seed is moreover so very immutable that no fire can destroy ; its prolific virtue subsists in fire, consequently it can act with the greatest promptness and change a mercurial matter into a metal of its kind. »

To form a metal from scratch, it was enough to discover the seed of the metals.

It is by a consequence of this theory that the alchemists call egg or philosophical egg (ovum philosophicum), the vase in which were placed the materials which were to serve for the operation of the great work.

Furthermore, an idea was professed on the subject of the generation of metallic substances which is important to point out. The formation of base metals such as lead, copper and tin was considered a pure accident. Nature, striving to give her works the last degree of perfection, constantly tended to produce gold, and the birth of other metals was, according to alchemists, only the result of a fortuitous disturbance occurring in the formation of this body. “It must necessarily be admitted,” says Salmon, “that the intention of nature in producing metals is not to make lead, iron, copper, tin, nor even silver, although this metal either in the first degree of perfection, but to make gold (the child of his desires); because this wise worker always wants to give the last degree of perfection to her works, and, when she is lacking and some defects are encountered, it is in spite of herself that this is done.

So it is not she who must be accused, but the lack of external causes... This is why we must consider the birth of imperfect metals like that of abortions and monsters, which only happens because nature is diverted in its actions, and it finds resistance which ties its hands and obstacles which prevent it from acting as regularly as it is wont to do. This resistance that nature finds is the dirt that mercury has contracted by the impurity of the matrix, that is to say from the place where it is found to form gold, and by the alliance which it makes in this same place with an evil and combustible sulfur. »

Thus the alchemists started from this fundamental principle, that the metals, and in general all the substances of the inorganic world, were endowed with a kind of life. Like animate beings, these substances had the property of developing within the earth, and of passing through a series of perfections which enabled them to rise from the imperfect state to the perfect state. For the alchemists, the state of imperfection of a metal was characterized by its alterability; its state of perfection, by the property of resisting the action of external causes. Iron, lead, tin, copper, mercury, easily alterable or oxidizable metals as we say today, were the base or imperfect metals; gold and silver,

The various modifications through which the metals had to pass to arrive at the state of gold or silver were caused, according to the alchemists, by the action of the stars. It is to the secret influence exerted on them by the great celestial bodies that the gradual improvement which took place in their intimate nature was due. But this action was very slow: it required centuries to be accomplished.

Alchemists do not agree on the limit of progress taking place within metals. The majority of authors consider this progress to stop when the metal has reached the state of gold or silver; once in the state of a noble metal, it must persist there eternally. But some writers think that this modification is continuous, so that after having reached the limit of its perfection, the metal returns gradually to the imperfect state. Thus the circle of these molecular transformations continues without interruption through the centuries. Put forward by Rodolphe Glauber, this singular view was adopted by a certain number of alchemists. It is by an exaggeration of this idea that Paracelsus professed that, under the influence of the stars and the ground,

In the early ages of science, the opinion that we have just presented must have naturally come to the minds of observers. In the heart of the earth, we always find the same metal in several different states; sometimes in the state of native metal, it is found at the same time engaged in different combinations, and art always succeeds in extracting the pure metal from the various natural compounds in which it exists. The observation of this fact could therefore lead the first chemists to believe that the various states in which metals are found in the bosom of the globe constituted so many degrees of successive perfection destined to convey them towards their definitive state. As for the influence that was attributed to the great celestial bodies to cause and regulate these mutations,

The theory of the composition of metals, the opinion relating to their generation, therefore established in principle the fact of transmutation; but it is not enough to theoretically justify the phenomenon: there remains the means of accomplishing it. However, according to alchemists, there exists a substance capable of carrying out this transformation: it is the stone, or philosopher's powder, also referred to under the names of grand magisterium, grand elixir, quintessence or tincture. When brought into contact with molten metals, the philosopher's stone immediately changes them into gold. If it has not acquired its highest degree of perfection, if it is not brought to its last point of purity, it does not change base metals into gold, but only into silver. It then bears the name of little philosopher's stone,

It was not until the 12th century that the philosopher's stone was clearly mentioned for the first time. Before this time, most Greek and Arabic authors, with the exception of Geber, contented themselves with establishing the fact of transmutation theoretically, without indicating the existence of a special agent who could carry out the phenomenon.

Let us quickly present the external characteristics and properties that alchemists attribute to the philosopher's stone. Here are the descriptions given to us of this marvelous agent by the adepts who claim to have observed it:
“I have seen and handled, says Van Helmont, the philosopher's stone. It had the color of powdered saffron, it was heavy and shiny like broken glass. »
Paracelsus presents it as a solid body of a dark ruby ​​color, transparent, flexible and yet brittle like glass.

Bérigard of Pisa, who was able to observe it at his ease in the transmutation that an unknown adept made him operate, attributes to the philosopher's powder the color of wild poppy and the odor of calcined sea salt: “Colore non absimilis flore papaveris sylvestris, odore vero sal marinum adustum referentis. »

Raymond Lulle sometimes designates it under the name of carbunculus, which can be understood as perit coal or as carbuncle, depending on the meaning given to this word by Pliny.

Helvetius gives it the color of sulphur. Finally, it is very often described as a red powder.

These are very diverse reports. But let's be reassured, a passage from Calid reconciles these contradictions. Calid, or rather the unknown author who wrote under this name, says, in his Treatise on the Three Words: “This stone unites in itself all the colors. It is white, red, yellow, sky blue, green. »

This is what all our philosophers have agreed upon2. As for the little philosopher's stone, that is to say the one which changes metals into silver, we always speak of it as a dazzling white substance. It is therefore referred to as white dye. However, there is very little mention of the small philosopher's stone in the writings of the followers. We didn't like to do things by halves.

Alchemists attributed three essential properties to the philosopher's stone: changing base metals into silver or gold; cure diseases and prolong human life beyond its natural limits.

The authors are unanimous in attributing to the philosopher's stone the property of transforming base metals into silver or gold. But how much should be used to produce this effect? On this point, we encounter the most singular disagreements. Seventeenth-century alchemists were quite moderate in this assessment.

Kunckel, the most modest of all, admits that she can only: convert into gold twice her weight of the foreign metal; the English Germspreiser, from thirty to sixty times. But in the Middle Ages there were other pretensions. Arnauld de Villeneuve and Rupescissa attribute to the Grand Magisterium the ability to convert one hundred parts of an impure metal into gold; Roger Bacon, One Hundred Thousand Parts; Isaac the Dutchman, a million. Raymond Lully leaves all these estimates far behind. The philosopher's stone enjoys,

“Take,” he says in his New Testament, “of this exquisite medicine, as big as a bean, project it on a thousand ounces of mercury, it will be changed into a red powder. Add one ounce of this red powder to a thousand ounces of other mercury, the same transformation will take place. Repeat this operation twice, and each ounce of product will change a thousand ounces of mercury into a philosopher's stone. One ounce of the product of the fourth operation will be enough to change a thousand ounces of mercury into gold, which is worth more than the best gold from the mines. According to this, the philosopher's stone could act on several thousand trillions of metal. Also, when Raymond Lulle exclaims: Mare tingerem si mercurius esset, we may find the claim a little strong, but we cannot accuse the philosopher of inconsistency.

It is the same idea that, in his Latin poem Chrysopoïa, Aurelius Augurelle expresses in the following verses:

Illius exigua projectâ parte per undas
AEquoris, argentum virum, si tunc foret oequor,
Omne, vel immensum, verti mare posset in aurum.

His little project through the waves
AEquoris, a silver man, if he were then a horseman,
The whole, even the vast, sea could be turned into gold.

It seems very difficult to go beyond the end reached by Raymond Lulle. However, this is what another philosopher tried. According to Salmon, the virtue of the philosopher's stone can be exercised on an infinite quantity of metal.

“By imbibing,” he said, “the philosopher's stone with the mercury of the philosophers, we multiply it, and with each multiplication that we give it, we increase its virtue and its tingent quality ten times as much as it was before. So that if a grain of the projection powder could, before it was multiplied, dye and perfect into gold ten grains of imperfect metal, after the first multiplication, this grain of powder will dye and perfect into gold a hundred grains of the same metal . And, if we multiply the powder a second time, a grain will dye a thousand of metal, and at the third time ten thousand, at the fourth a hundred thousand; and thus always increasing to infinity, which is something that the human mind cannot understand. »

With this way of understanding the phenomenon, Salmon could easily defy the emulation of his colleagues; he had no fear of ever being overtaken.

The property of curing illnesses and prolonging the duration of human existence was only granted to the philosopher's stone around the 13th century. It is probable, following the judicious observation of Boerhaave, that this belief was introduced among the alchemists of the West, because the figurative and metaphorical expressions favored by the ancient authors were taken literally. When Geber says, for example, “Bring me the six lepers so that I can heal them”, he means:

“Bring me the six base metals, so that I can transform them into gold. » Whatever the case, this second property attributed to the philosopher's stone opened a new career that the imagination of the followers had to explore with dignity.

According to all Hermetic writers, the philosopher's stone, taken internally, is the most precious of medicines. In his Opuscule on the natural philosophy of metals, Daniel Zachaire thus describes the way of using the divine work on human bodies to cure them of diseases:

“To use our great king to recover health, you must take a heavy grain and dissolve it in a silver vessel with good white wine, which will turn into citrine color. Then give the sick person a drink a little after midnight, and he will be cured in one day if the illness lasts only a month, and if the illness lasts a year, he will be cured in twelve days, and if he is ill for a very long time, he will be cured in a month by using every night as above. And, to always remain in good health, it should be taken at the beginning of autumn and at the beginning of spring as a candied electuary. And by this means man will always live in perfect health until the end of the days that God will have given him, as the philosophers have written. »

Isaac the Dutchman assures that a person who took a little of the philosopher's stone every week would always maintain his health, and that his life would extend “until the last hour assigned to him by God. »

Basil Valentin also says that he who possesses the stone of the wise will never be affected by illness or infirmity “until the supreme hour which has been fixed for him by the king of heaven. »

If, following the example of the preceding ones, all the alchemists had been content to affirm that the philosopher's stone prolongs human life until the end assigned by God, it is certain that they would have little compromised their credit, and they would have thus left historians with the opportunity to once again pay homage to their veracity. Unfortunately, they have too often given up on this reserve. Artephius gave himself a thousand years:

"I myself, Artephius, who have written this, for a thousand years, or almost, that I am in the world, by the grace of the one Almighty God and by the use of this admirable “quintessence” The age of four hundred years was attributed to the Venetian Frédéric Guaido, brother of the Rosicrucian, and that of one hundred and forty years to the hermit Trautmansdorf. Alain de Lisle, assure the alchemists, lived more than a hundred years, thanks to the use of the blessed quintessence. Raymond Lulle and Salomon Trismosin, both in advanced age, had been rejuvenated by the use of the philosopher's stone. The latter boasted of being able to restore the forms and graces of youth to women of seventy and ninety; and, for him, prolonging life until the last judgment was “a trifle.” » Vincent de Beauvais proved beyond the evidence that if Noah had children at the age of five hundred, it was because he possessed the philosopher's stone.

Two English writers, E. Dickinson and Th. Mudan, have devoted learned books to demonstrating that it is thanks to the same means that the patriarchs arrived at the most advanced age. Paul Lucas, French traveler, who, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, traveled the East at the king's expense, and especially brought back from his travels the monuments of his notable credulity, met in Bursa, in Asia Minor, in the middle of a meeting of alchemists, a dervish named Usbeck who was noted for his knowledge of all languages.

Usbeck appeared to be thirty years old, but he confessed to be over a hundred. He claimed to have had the good fortune to meet the famous Nicolas Flamel in India, who was in the best of health, although he had reached his two hundredth year. We will not extend the list of these fables any further. a dervish named Usbeck who was noted for his knowledge of all languages. Usbeck appeared to be thirty years old, but he confessed to be over a hundred.

He claimed to have had the good fortune to meet the famous Nicolas Flamel in India, who was in the best of health, although he had reached his two hundredth year. We will not extend the list of these fables any further. a dervish named Usbeck who was noted for his knowledge of all languages. Usbeck appeared to be thirty years old, but he confessed to be over a hundred. He claimed to have had the good fortune to meet the famous Nicolas Flamel in India, who was in the best of health, although he had reached his two hundredth year. We will not extend the list of these fables any further.

Some spagyric writers have attributed to the philosopher's stone a last less important property, which we must however indicate: it is that of artificially forming precious stones, diamonds, pearls and rubies.

" You did see. Sire, writes Raymond Lully to the King of England, the marvelous projection which I made in London with the water of mercury which I threw on the dissolved crystal; I formed a very fine diamond, you had it made into small columns for a tabernacle.

In his pamphlet on Natural Philosophy, Daniel Zachaire describes how to use the divine work to make pearls and rubies . Finally Jules Sperber assures, in his Isagogue, that the quintessence changes pebbles into fine pearls,
The opinions just mentioned are a matter of observation; it remains for us to review those which are characterized by a mystical or theosophical tendency.

When we embrace, in fact, all the hermetic works, we recognize that they are classified into two groups: some, almost free from speculation, were only carried out with the help of observation and laboratory experience; the others were accomplished under the inspiration of abstract ideas of a theosophical or mystical nature. This distinction, which will allow us to bring more method and simplicity to the elucidation of the obscure subject which concerns us, is sufficiently justified by the historical facts.

Mystical considerations only appeared in alchemy around the 12th century. The Arabs had known how to maintain their study of facts, and free their work from any connection with metaphysical abstractions and religious principles. The unity, the simplicity of the dogmas in the Muslim religion, the weak predilection of this people for purely philosophical conceptions, must have removed ideas of this kind from their minds. But, once established among Christian peoples, alchemy took on a new character. Religious inspiration was considered indispensable to the success of the great work, theosophical ideas were gradually infused into the principles of art, and, soon dominating the practical element, led to the strangest confusion. Arnauld de Villeneuve, Raymond Lully,

As far as the philosophical synthesis can embrace in a narrow circle the vague considerations of the theosophist alchemists, we can establish that their theoretical opinions are summed up in the following ideas: — Occult influences granted to certain material agents, and especially to the philosopher's stone, on the faculties of man; — comparison of the operation of the great work with the mystery of the relationships of the soul and the body; — comparison or identification of the hermetic work with the mysteries of the Christian religion; — intervention, however to a very small extent, of considerations borrowed from magic.

Until the 13th century, alchemists limited themselves to granting the philosopher's stone the three dynamic properties noted above. From this time on, we recognize a new quality in the moral order. The philosopher's stone brings to those who possess it the gift of wisdom and virtues; as it ennobles metals, so it purifies the spirit of man; she tears out of her heart the root of sin.

“Those who are lucky enough,” said Salmon, “to have possession of this rare treasure, however wicked and vicious they were before, are changed in their morals and become good people; so that, considering nothing more on earth that deserves their affection, and having nothing more to wish for in this world, they no longer sigh except for God and for the blessed eternity, and they say like the prophet: Lord, I have only the possession of your glory to be entirely satisfied. »

“The stone being perfected by someone, says Nicolas Flamel, changes him from bad to good, removes from him the root of all sin, making him liberal, gentle, pious, religious and God-fearing; however bad he was before, henceforth he always remains delighted with the great grace and mercy he has obtained from God and the depth of his divine and admirable works.

The Cosmopolitan assures us that the philosopher's stone is nothing but a mirror in which we perceive the three parts of the wisdom of the world; he who possesses it becomes as wise as Aristotle and Avicenna.

Th. Northon says, in his Crede mihi:
“The stone of the philosophers brings help to everyone in need; it strips man of vain glory, hope and fear; it removes ambition, violence and excess of desires; it softens the harshest adversities. God will place among his saints the followers of our art. »

As a consequence of this principle it has been claimed that the ancient sages had possessed the philosopher's stone. Adam had received it from the hands of God; the Hebrew patriarchs and King Solomon were only adepts initiated into the secret of the art. People have gone so far as to write that God promises the philosopher's stone to all good Christians.

We invoked this verse from the Apocalypse:
“To the victor I will give a white stone!” »

The assimilation of the phenomenon of metallic transmutation with the death and resurrection of men, is an idea whose traces are found in several authors of the first epochs of alchemy, and which became vulgar in the Middle Ages. This is what pleased Luther so much, and what reconciled with alchemy the protection of the great reformer. He granted his praises to hermetic science "because of the magnificent comparisons it offers us with the resurrection of the "dead on the last day." In the very considerable number of works on mystical alchemy published in the eighteenth century, and which offer the most incredible confusion of religious ideas and scientific principles, the resurrection is literally considered as an alchemical operation, as a transmutation of a higher order.

The holy books offering an inexhaustible text for these insane comments, this connection was justified by any kind of invocation to biblical authorities. The author of the Philosophical Letter, written in a few pages composed in 1751, cites more than a hundred passages from the Bible in support of his words. Some, for example, claimed to know how the elect will keep the philosopher's stone until the day of the last judgment. They based themselves on this verse from the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Corinthians: “We will have this treasure in stone vessels. » cites more than a hundred passages from the Bible to support his words. Some, for example, claimed to know how the elect would keep the philosopher's stone until the day of judgment. They based themselves on this verse from the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Corinthians: “We will have this treasure in stone vessels. » cites more than a hundred passages from the Bible to support his words. Some, for example, claimed to know how the elect would keep the philosopher's stone until the day of judgment. They based themselves on this verse from the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Corinthians: “We will have this treasure in stone vessels. »

The comparison, or rather the identification of the hermetic work with the mysteries of the Christian religion, is encountered at every step in the mystical writings of the 17th century, in the works of the Englishman Argill, of Michaëlis, and especially in the book by the Theosophical shoemaker J. Boehme, whose fanaticism did much to give vogue to these ideas.

It would be superfluous to dwell on such a subject; a passage from Basile Valentin will suffice to characterize the spirit of these absurd daydreams. In an Allegory of the Holy Trinity and the Philosopher's Stone, Basil Valentine expresses himself thus:

“Dear Christian lover, blessed art, oh! that the holy Trinity created the philosopher's stone in a brilliant and wonderful way! For the father God is a spirit, and yet he appears in the form of a man as it is said in Genesis; in the same way we must look at the mercury of the philosophers as a body-spirit. — From God the father was born Jesus Christ his son, who is both man and God and without sin. He did not need to die, but died willingly and rose again to make his sinless brothers and sisters live with him forever. So gold is spotless, fixed, glorious and able to endure all trials, but it dies because of its imperfect and sick brothers and sisters; and soon, rising gloriously, he delivers them and dyes them for eternal life; he makes them perfect in the state of pure gold. »

This marked tendency to connect the practices of alchemy to the mysteries of religion was the consequence of the continual concern which distinguished the adepts, to implore divine help for the success of their work, to place their work under the protection of the sacred authorities, and to consider definitive success, the object of so many wishes and hopes, as the product of a divine revelation. A few quotes will allow us to characterize exactly this noteworthy side of the alchemical school.

“All that remains for us,” said the Arab Geber, “is to praise and bless in this place the very high and very glorious God, creator of all natures, for the fact that he has deigned to reveal to us the medicines that we have seen and known by experience; for it is by his holy inspiration that we have applied ourselves to seek them, with much difficulty...

Courage therefore, sons of knowledge, seek and you will infallibly find this most excellent gift of God, which is reserved for you alone. And you, children of iniquity, who have evil intentions, flee far from this knowledge, because it is your enemy and your ruin, which it will most assuredly cause you; for divine providence will never allow you to enjoy this gift of God which is hidden for you and which is forbidden to you. »

But these homages addressed to divine authority are much more frequent among Christian authors than among Arabs. One cannot open a writing by Basil Valentin, Raymond Lulle, Albert the Great, Arnauld de Villeneuve and all the other alchemists of the Middle Ages, without encountering one of these pious invocations. Arnaud de Villeneuve, for example, in his Mirror of Alchemy, thanks God for the help he gave him in his research, he recognizes that he owes him everything and that praise and glory should go to him alone.

“Know then, my dear son,” he told us, “that this science is nothing other than the perfect inspiration of God. »

He tells us again in the New Light:
“Father and reverend lord, although I am ignorant of the liberal sciences, because I am not assiduous in study, nor in the profession of clericship, God has nevertheless willed, as he inspires to whom he pleases, to reveal to me the excellent secret of philosophers, although I do not deserve it. »

The true Philalethes says, in his Open Entrance to the Closed Palace of the King, addressing the operator:
« Now, thank God who has given you so many graces, to bring your work to this point of perfection; pray him to guide you and prevent your haste from causing you to lose a job that has come to such a perfect state. »

Nicolas Flamel, or rather the author of the apocryphal book of Figures hieroglyphiques de Nicolas Flamel, also begins his descriptions with a magnificent prayer l.

There is, in the prints room of the National Library, a drawing by Vrièse representing the laboratory of an alchemist. It is a magnificent castle gallery which has been transformed into a laboratory; we see on one side a row of furnaces, and on the other an altar where incense smokes;
the alchemist, on his knees, and with his eyes raised to the sky, addresses his prayer to God.

We know, under the name Liber mutus, a collection of fifteen folio engravings which is found at the end of the first volume of Manget's Chemical Theater. It is intended to make known, by means of these figures alone, and without a single line of written explanation, the preparation of the philosopher's stone. Plates 2, 8 and 11, which represent three operations to be performed, show us an alchemist and his wife in the attitude of prayer, kneeling on both sides of a furnace which contains the philosophical egg. The rest of the figures are unintelligible, but the meaning of the last is easy to grasp. The man and woman are on their knees, raising their hands to the sky: they have succeeded in their search and thank God who revealed this secret to them.

After all these proofs of their devotion, after so many testimonies given by the alchemists of the sincerity and orthodoxy of their faith, we are surprised when we remember this reproach that has always been addressed to them for having granted a considerable part in the study of magic, and to have invoked his help to direct them in their work. It is therefore important to find out what credit this universally accepted opinion deserves.

In the conceptions and in the alchemical works, magic played, in our opinion, an infinitely less serious role than is generally admitted. The Byzantine alchemists believed, it is true, in astrological influences; as we have shown above, they granted the stars a certain influence on the properties of sublunar bodies. Everyone knows, for example, that, from the origin of hermetic art, metals, and with them a certain number of mineral substances, were consecrated to the seven planets; the names of the metals had even been furnished by those of the planets.

At Saturn they consecrated lead, litharge, agate and other similar materials;

to Jupiter, tin, coral, sandarac, sulphur;

to the planet Mars, iron, magnet and pyrites;

in the sun, gold, hyacinth, diamond, sapphire, and charcoal;

to Venus, copper, pearls, amethyst, sugar, asphalt, honey, myrrh and sal ammoniac;

to Mercury, quicksilver, emerald, succin, olibanum, mastic;

finally, to the moon, then ranked among the planets, silver, glass, and white earth were consecrated.

Declared supporters of astrology, Greek scientists had necessarily introduced some of these ideas into alchemical dogmas. The Egyptians and Arabs, who had received the tradition of Kabbalah from the Hebrews, conformed to these principles and granted a certain part to astrology for the knowledge of the hermetic art. This is how Calid and Geber declare that metals are influenced by the course of the stars, and the latter author observes that the intervention of this influence constitutes one of the greatest difficulties in regulating chemical operations. But the writings of Arab authors belong only to the first epochs of hermetic art; the works of Geber, Rhases and the writers of this school date from the 8th century and therefore mark the first works of alchemy.

The science that concerns us was still in its beginnings, and the practical work for the search for the philosopher's stone was then barely approached. The astrological influences invoked at this time for the direction of chemical operations could not therefore exert a great influence on the progress of this nascent art. But later, when research for the accomplishment of the great work passed into the West and took on a universal rise there, astrological considerations, and especially magic, were abandoned or fell into general discredit. Sharing the opinions of their time, necessarily subject to the influence of the doctrines of their time, the alchemists were undoubtedly disposed to grant a certain faith to supernatural influences, to the action of invisible beings on the material world. But they believed at the same time that it was not given to man to direct and master this empire at will. On this point they professed the opinion of Geber, who teaches us, in the ninth chapter of the Sum of Perfection, that the adepts, while recognizing the influence that the planets,

We will not try to hide, however, that a certain number of alchemical writers who belong to the period of the most active work, bring astrology, and even magic, into the direction of their research. These writers recommend using various supernatural influences to achieve the discovery of the philosopher's stone.

Paracelsus is the one who insisted on this point the most. His works are filled with crazy invocations to the invisible world, and it is to summarize his thoughts that he tells us in his treatise De tincturâ physicorum: “If you do not understand the uses of the cabalists and the ancient astrologers, God will not did not create for the spagyric, and Nature did not choose you for the work of Vulcan. But the fiery physician of Schwitz never enjoyed more than questionable authority among the alchemists; a purely theoretical writer, he did not work with his hands for the accomplishment of the great work.

Arnauld de Villeneuve and Basile Valentin were the only important alchemists who, before Paracelsus, had taken astrology and magic seriously. In his treatise on talismans (De sigillis), Arnauld de Villeneuve gives a large number of formulas against demons. Basil Valentinus had thrown himself with ardor into the darkness of hermetic mysticism, and, in this respect, he had prepared the way for Paracelsus, to whom belongs the sad title of honor of having made alchemy deviate from its path, and of having substituted or attempted to substitute the psychological method for the experimental method adopted before him. But, we repeat, the efforts of Basil Valentinus and Paracelsus succeeded only imperfectly in imbuing the research of the adepts with a mystical direction.

In summary, if Western alchemists shared the beliefs of their time relating to astrology and magic, the influence of these ideas was, in our opinion, only very weakly felt in their work. Astrology played a certain role, but magic never intervened in a serious way. in our opinion, only very weakly felt in their work.

Astrology played a certain role in it, but magic never intervened in a serious way. according to us, only very faintly felt in their works. Astrology played a certain role, but magic never intervened in a serious way.

To the thought that we have just expressed, one will not fail to oppose this unanimous opinion, accredited for centuries, which represents to us the alchemist as a man necessarily devoted to all the practices of the occult sciences, and who, to reach the goal of his unbridled desires, does not hesitate to invoke the spirit of evil and deliver his soul to him in exchange for the treasures he aspires to. We will not dispute that such was in certain cases, on the account of the alchemists, the thought of the vulgar, and the odious portrait that the genius of Goethe so vigorously traced in the character of Doctor Faust, reproduced a type long since consecrated.

But this opinion was due to two causes which it is important not to ignore. In the middle Ages, we were prepared to consider as emanating from the diabolical spirit any creation formed outside of the ordinary facts of life, and we did not hesitate to brand with the dangerous name of sorcerers all those who brought to light some extraordinary result. It is therefore quite simple that this prejudice arose with regard to alchemists who were seen engaged in work whose nature and means escaped the vulgar. Moreover, far from combating this opinion, the alchemists themselves endeavored to spread it.

They liked to cast a veil of mystery over their work; the marvelous lent to their physiognomy a character which supported their designs. However, many times the followers cruelly expiate this temptation of their pride. We know that magic considered in the more restricted sense it received in the Middle Ages, was distinguished in white magic and in black magic, according to whether one had recourse to the intervention of God or that of the devil for the production of its effects. It was against the followers of black magic that the Middle Ages had established a special system of inquisition, as can be read in the Démonoimmie ou le Fléau des demons et des sorciers, by J. Bodin d'Angers, published in 1580, and where the abominable code of the means which make it possible to convince an accused of the crime of black magic is naively traced. An alchemist cited at the bar of this formidable tribunal faced the final punishment if the witnesses heard proved that the accused “had consciously endeavored, by diabolical means, to achieve something. The jealousy of their colleagues, the bad faith, the ignorance and sometimes the resentment of their dupes, have only too often caused the adepts to incur the expiation of an imaginary crime.

Also, when Gabriel Naudé published in 1669 his Apology of great men accused of magic, he included on this list several famous alchemists, because he knew well that the practice of alchemy had been for many unfortunate people a cause of persecution. .

The facts that history provides us clearly show that recourse to magical influences played only a very small role in the splendor of art. In the extraordinary stories of metallic transmutations of which the memory has been preserved, we never see an invocation of occult powers intervene, and, if the history of alchemy shows us that there existed certain individuals who tried to conjure demons or boasted of keeping familiar devils in their service, the event did not fail to prove that these were false followers or rogue alchemists.

Bragadino, Leonard Thurneysser and François Borri were particularly in this case.

This fact cannot remain the subject of doubt if the reader allows us to recall, by a short digression,

Bragadino, whose real name was Mamugna, was Greek, originally from the island of Cyprus. He posed as the son of the governor of Venice, Count Marco Antonio Bragadino, who was captured and killed by the Turks in 1571. After traveling through part of the Orient playing the part of a follower, he went to Italy in 1578 under the name of Count of Mamugnaro.

Having succeeded in attracting the confidence of Margrave Martinego, he soon acquired a great reputation as an adept. He made transmutations in public, in order to prove that he owed the origin of his riches to the philosopher's stone.

But his alleged processes for the preparation of this precious agent, which he sold at a high price to his admirers, were for him a more real source of fortune.

Therefore, finding himself in the palace of Nobile Cantarena, he made a transmutation of mercury into gold which amazed the assembly. His whole secret consisted in making use of an alloy of mercury and gold, because the assistants recognized that the compound which he placed in the reddened crucible, lost, to be transformed into gold, half of its weight. The same experiment, having been repeated in Venice in the house of the wealthy Dandolo, amazed the nobility, and the doge bought from him at a very high price his philosopher's stone, with a writing which we find reproduced in the Chemical Theater of Manget.

The chemist Otto Tackenius, who was later charged with examining this powder, recognized that it consisted only of an amalgam of gold. His whole secret consisted in using an alloy of mercury and gold, because the assistants recognized that the compound which he placed in the reddened crucible lost, to be transformed into gold, half of its weight. The same experience, having been repeated in Venice in the house of the rich Dandolo, amazed the nobility, and the doge bought from him his philosopher's stone at a very high price, with a writing that we find reproduced in the Chemical Theater of Manget.

The chemist Otto Tackenius, who was later charged with examining this powder, recognized that it consisted only of an amalgam of gold. His whole secret consisted in using an alloy of mercury and gold, because the assistants recognized that the compound which he placed in the reddened crucible lost, to be transformed into gold, half of its weight. The same experience, having been repeated in Venice in the house of the rich Dandolo, amazed the nobility, and the doge bought from him his philosopher's stone at a very high price, with a writing that we find reproduced in the Chemical Theater of Manget.

The chemist Otto Tackenius, who was later charged with examining this powder, recognized that it consisted only of an amalgam of gold. having been repeated in Venice in the house of the rich Dandolo, amazed the nobility, and the doge bought his philosopher's stone at a very high price, with a writing that we find reproduced in the Chemical Theater of Manget.

The chemist Otto Tackenius, who was later charged with examining this powder, recognized that it consisted only of an amalgam of gold. having been repeated in Venice in the house of the rich Dandolo, amazed the nobility, and the doge bought his philosopher's stone at a very high price, with a writing that we find reproduced in the Chemical Theater of Manget. The chemist Otto Tackenius, who was later charged with examining this powder, recognized that it consisted only of an amalgam of gold.

This adventurer left Venice in 1588, and began to travel around Germany, taking the name Count Bragadino. The main cities of Germany witnessed his exploits. To produce a more vivid impression on the public's mind, he claimed to have the devil in his power. He carried out his operations always having at his side two enormous black mastiffs with a satanic look, which represented two demons chained to his power. Having acquired much reputation in Vienna through these maneuvers, Bragadino went to Munich with the plan of going from there to Prague and Dresden. He arrived in Munich in 1590, and was immediately called to court to give testimony of his knowledge.

But the frauds he employed having ended up being discovered, he was put on trial and condemned to the gallows for having usurped a name that did not belong to him. Dressed in a golden garment, Bragadino was attached to the alchemists' golden gallows. After his execution, the two black mastiffs, his companions, were arquebused under his gallows.

One of the Hermetic artists who, at the same time, most occupied Germany, was Leonard Thurneysser, or rather Zum Thurn, born in Baie in 1530. From the age of eighteen, Thurneysser had preluded his hermetic prowess by selling gilded objects to Jews for pure gold. Pursued for this fact, he began to travel in France and England, associating himself with the maneuvers of itinerant alchemists, and learning in their company subtle processes to astonish and deceive his neighbor.

He had become a master of this dangerous art when in 1555 he returned to Germany and presented himself to Archduke Ferdinand, whose confidence he gained. He did not present himself to the prince as a consummate adept, but only as an artist who lacked very little to reach this rank. In order to perfect his art, the Archduke made him travel at his own expense to the three parts of our hemisphere. Richly defrayed by the munificence of his master, Thurneysser traveled successively through Hungary, Spain, Portugal, Scotland, Greece, Egypt, Arabia and Syria to find the secret of hermetic science. .

He did not find it, and only brought back from his travels some knowledge of medicine that he had gathered from Egyptian doctors. Arabia and Syria to find the secret of hermetic science. He did not find it, and brought back from his travels only some knowledge of medicine which he had gathered from the Egyptian doctors. Arabia and Syria to find the secret of hermetic science. He did not find it, and only brought back from his travels some knowledge of medicine that he had gathered from Egyptian doctors.

It was, in fact, as a doctor that Leonardo Thurneysser, on his return from the East, presented himself at the court of the Elector of Brandenburg, Jean Georges, who was then in Frankfurt. Having cured the elector's wife of an illness, he was appointed physician to the prince. Later he was put at the head of a laboratory which his noble client Eléonore, wife of the Electoral Prince, had founded in Halle.

Thurneysser took wonderful advantage of his position. He sold makeup and other masterfully prepared cosmetics to the ladies of the court. In his medical practice, he substituted for the repulsive remedies of the galenists, the medicines of Paracelsus, which he decorated with the pompous names of potable gold, tincture of gold and magisterium of the sun. He devoted himself to astrology and published astrological calendars which were surprisingly popular.

As these prophecies were conceived in very ambiguous terms, he had, for the princes, special copies of his calendars which bore, between the lines, the explanation of the obscure terms. It is by making use of all these means that Thurneysser ends up acquiring immense wealth. He maintained more than two hundred people in his laboratory, and had established, for the publication of his works, a type foundry and a printing house. An edition that he published of thirty-two European dialects and sixty-eight foreign languages ​​made him considered one of the first scholars of his time. His various writings, among others Quinta essentia, published in Munster in 1570, and his Pis on, a work which deals with the properties of water, were eagerly sought after throughout Germany; he had, in a word, become the oracle of the court and the country.

published in Munster in 1570, and his Pis on, a work which deals with the properties of water, were eagerly sought after throughout Germany; he had, in a word, become the oracle of the court and the country. published in Munster in 1570, and his Pis on, a work which deals with the properties of water, were eagerly sought after throughout Germany; he had, in a word, become the oracle of the court and the country.

What had partly contributed to spreading the fame of Thurneysser was that he claimed to have in his power a demon of a lower order. This docile devil consisted of a small, hideous figure which he showed to the public in a glass bottle.

Later, however, his star faded. Gaspard Hoffmann, a professor in Frankfurt, had published a remarkable treatise, entitled Imminent Barbary, in which he unmasked the extravagance of the charlatan disciple of Paracelsus. This book opened the eyes of the Elector. At the same time, his fellow alchemists, envious of his great fortune, having succeeded in revealing his frauds in the eyes of the court, Thurneysser was obliged, in 1584, to hastily leave Berlin to escape the proceedings ordered against him. He did not have time to take away his familiar demon, and when they entered his secret laboratory, they were able to lay their hands on the evil genius. It was a scorpion preserved in oil.

Thurneysser did not long survive his disgrace. After wandering for some time in Germany, prey to deep poverty, he entered a convent, where he died the object of public commiseration.

Joseph-Francois Borri, from Milan, had attacked the principles of the Roman Church too recklessly. Sentenced to banishment, he left Italy in 1660, and traveled, under the name of Burrhus, to various cities in Germany, where he made projections several times. After visiting the Rhine provinces and the Netherlands, he went, in 1665, to Copenhagen, and entered as an alchemist in the service of the King of Denmark, Frederick III. He succeeded in gaining the king's confidence to such an extent that he succeeded in persuading him into insignificant folly. Borri claimed to have at his service a demon who appeared at his evocation and dictated to him the operations necessary to carry out the transmutations. This spirit, which answered to the name of Homunculus, arrived at the command of its master, when he pronounced certain mysterious syllables.

To have his alchemist fully at hand, the king decided that Borri's laboratory would be moved to his castle. But the adept assured that the power of his demon would be destroyed if anyone tried to separate him from an immense furnace of iron and bricks that he had built to serve as a home for the Homunculus. He hoped, thanks to this difficulty, to escape the obligation to live in the palace, where his practices would undoubtedly have found more severe supervision. But a royal will knows no obstacle. The king decided that, in order not to separate the Homunculus from its obligatory prison, the immense furnace of the alchemist would be transported, with the help of machines and over the ramparts, into the interior of his palace.

Five years later, Frederick III being dead, they wanted to penetrate Borri's secret. The latter immediately fled; but, arrested on the frontiers of Hungary, he was imprisoned at Vienna. Recognized by the Papal Nuncio, he was claimed in the name of the court of Rome as having been condemned for the crime of heresy. Borri was taken to Rome by the Nuncio himself, and kept shut up in the tower of Engelsbourg. He was not, however, subject to too severe a supervision; he was granted a laboratory so that he could work on the philosopher's stone in favor of the Church. But he could not achieve anything good: his Homunculus had left him. He died in prison in 1695.

If we have gone into the above details, it is because we wanted to show that these invocations to infernal spirits, this recourse to occult powers, so much criticized against alchemists, were in reality only the work of a few knaves or whisperers. low floor. None of the great men whose names shine in alchemical splendor has believed in such follies.

And the fact, moreover, is easily explained. Whatever errors they may have fallen into, alchemists were, after all, positive people, with a perfectly determined goal and knowing very well what result they wanted to achieve. To obtain this result, recourse to supernatural influences was more than illusory, and if the followers had some temptations of this kind, common sense soon showed them that there was nothing serious in expecting such means.

They therefore had to soon abandon such a sterile path, leaving it to the deceivers to exploit the chances and profits. To arrive at the discovery of the precious agent, the goal of their experiments, they limited themselves to the use of natural means, that is to say, to experiments carried out using the agents that chemistry put at their service. of their time. The series of practical means put into use at the various periods of alchemy for the discovery of the philosopher's stone, must therefore now become the object of our examination.

leaving it to the dupes to exploit the chances and the profits. To arrive at the discovery of the precious agent, the goal of their experiments, they limited themselves to the use of natural means, that is to say, to experiments carried out with the aid of agents which chemistry put at their service. of their time.

The series of practical means put into use in the various epochs of alchemy for the discovery of the philosopher's stone must therefore now become the object of our examination. leaving it to the deceivers to exploit the chances and profits. To arrive at the discovery of the precious agent, the goal of their experiments, they limited themselves to the use of natural means, that is to say, to experiments carried out using the agents that chemistry put at their service. of their time. The series of practical means put into use at the various periods of alchemy for the discovery of the philosopher's stone, must therefore now become the object of our examination.

CHAPTER II.

MEANS EMPLOYED BY ALCHEMISTS FOR THE PREPARATION OF THE PHILOSOPHAL STONE.

THE DARKNESS of the hermetic writers, the inconsistency and confusion of their twisted style, the strange names they like to designate, or rather to disguise substances, oppose many difficulties to the analysis that we are going to make of the main means employed by followers for the preparation of the philosopher's stone. With them, moreover, this darkness was voluntary; the decision was made to be impenetrable, and there was no secret of it.

" Poor idiot ! exclaims Artephius, apostrophizing his reader, would you be simple enough to believe that we are going to teach you openly and clearly the greatest and most important of secrets, and take our words literally? I assure you that anyone who wants to explain what the philosophers have written according to the ordinary and literal sense of the words will find themselves involved in the twists and turns of a labyrinth from which they will never get rid, because they will not have Ariadne's thread to conduct himself and to get out of it, and whatever expense he incurs in working, it will be just as much money lost. »

Most authors are very careful to warn that their descriptions have been deliberately encumbered with enigmas, contradictions and equivocations. Also the novices who tried to penetrate the secret of science by reading the great masters were perfectly edified in this regard:

“When philosophers speak without detours,” says G. de Schroeder, “I distrust their words; when they are explained by riddles, I reflect. It
is the same idea that the adept Salmon expresses through this rich collection of metaphors:

“It is only among these apparent contradictions and lies that we will find the truth; it is only among these thorns that we will pick this mysterious rose. We can only enter this rich garden of the Hesperides to see this beautiful golden tree and pick its precious fruits after having defeated the dragon who always watches and defends the entrance. We can finally conquer this golden fleece only through the agitations and the reefs of this unknown sea, passing between these rocks which clash and fight each other, and after having overcome the terrible monsters which guard it. »

The alchemists had an excellent motive for adopting this obscure and inaccessible language. They had nothing to say about the art of making gold, all their efforts to achieve it having remained useless. It is also to be believed that the one who would have possessed this marvelous secret would have seen fit to keep it for himself, and therefore would have dispensed with writing a line.

But this was the only reason that the alchemists did not invoke to justify the mysteries of their language. They had a thousand others to allege. It was, for example, the fear of producing too great a disturbance in society; it was not necessary, as Salmon says, “to desecrate and make public so precious a thing which, if known, would cause prodigious disorder and upheaval in human society.” »

There was also a religious motive which it is good to point out, because it well characterizes the spirit of alchemical ideas. All adepts recognize that the preparation of the philosopher's stone is a work beyond the reach of human intelligence. Only God can reveal it to men, and he only reveals it to his elect. A philosopher who has received this communication from above must in turn grant it only to virtuous beings, to spirits whom grace has touched; he is recommended to refuse it to the wicked and the vulgar. Thus, by adopting their enigmatic style, the followers were only obeying divine will.

All adepts recognize that the preparation of the philosopher's stone is a work beyond the reach of human intelligence. Only God can reveal it to men, and he only reveals it to his elect. A philosopher who has received this communication from on high should grant it in his turn only to virtuous beings, to minds touched by grace; he is recommended to refuse it to the wicked and the vulgar.

Thus, by adopting their enigmatic style, the followers were only obeying divine will. All adepts recognize that the preparation of the philosopher's stone is a work beyond the reach of human intelligence. Only God can reveal it to men, and he only reveals it to his elect. A philosopher who has received this communication from above must in turn grant it only to virtuous beings, to spirits whom grace has touched; he is recommended to refuse it to the wicked and the vulgar. Thus, by adopting their enigmatic style, the followers were only obeying divine will. to the spirits that grace has touched; he is recommended to refuse it to the wicked and the vulgar. Thus, by adopting their enigmatic style, the followers were only obeying divine will. to the spirits that grace has touched; he is recommended to refuse it to the wicked and the vulgar.

Thus, by adopting their enigmatic style, the followers were only obeying divine will.

“Hide this book in your bosom,” said Arnaud de Villeneuve, “and do not put it in the hands of the impious, for it contains the secret of the secrets of all philosophers. This pearl should not be thrown to swine, for it is a gift from God. »

The masters of the 13th century went so far as to threaten indiscreet people with the wrath of God:
“He who reveals this secret,” says Arnauld de Villeneuve, “is cursed and dies of apoplexy. »

“I swear to you on my soul,” cries Raymond Lulle, “that if you reveal this, you will be damned. Everything comes from God and must return there; you will therefore keep for him alone a secret which belongs only to him. If you made known by a few light words what required so many years of care, you would be damned without remission at the last judgment for this offense to the divine majesty.

“I have now spoken enough,” exclaims Basile Valentin in his Chariot of Triumph of Antimony, “I have taught our secret in such a clear and precise manner that to say a little more would be wanting to sink into hell. »

Basil Valentin pours out bitter complaints about the excessive clarity that reigns in his writings. He addresses himself with the strongest reproaches, and, for his future peace, he trembles at having said too much. Basil Valentin exaggerated his faults; posterity absolves him. All the followers who have worked on the indications of his writings take it for granted that he is among the elect.

The fear of temporal or spiritual punishment is not the only one which seems to have dictated the extreme reserve of the Hermetic writers. Indeed, Greek and Arab authors are just as discreet as Western ones. This reserve is sometimes even taken to an extreme point. Rhases thus begins the description of a very simple process for making eau-de-vie:

“Take whatever quantity you want of something unknown: Recipe aliquid ignotum, quantum volueris. »

Pseudo-Democritus gives the following method for solidifying mercury:
“Take mercury and solidify it with magnesia, or with sulfur, or with silver foam, or with lime, or with alum, or with whatever you want. »

It is not uncommon to find the following recipe:
“Take…” It is impossible to be more discreet.

The obscurity of the alchemical treatises and the strangeness of their contents are sufficiently indicated in advance by the strangeness of their titles. To give an idea, it will be enough for us to cite the names of a few works chosen from among the most famous in the splendor of art. Such are: the Chemical Apocalypse, the Twelve Keys to Philosophy, by Basile Valentin, — the Mirror of Secrets, the Alchemical Marrow, by Roger Bacon, — the Clavicle, by Raymond Lully, — the Desired Desire, attributed to Nicolas Flamel , — the Forsaken Word, from Trévisan, — the Philosophical Rosary, the Flower of Flowers, from Arnauld de Villeneuve, — the Book of Light, from J. Roquetaillade (Rupescissa), — ​​the True Treasure of Human Life, from du Soucy, - the Tomb of Semiramis open to the wise, - the Light emerging by itself from the darkness, The Open Entrance to the Closed Palace of the King, by Philaletus. — the Ancient War of the Knights, or the Hermetic Triumph, the Crede mihi, of Th. Northon, — the Peat of the Philosophers, or Assembly of the Disciples of Pythagoras, of Morien, — the Psalter of Hermophilus, the Treatise of Heaven and of the Earth, of V. Lavinius, — the Book of the Twelve Gates, of G. Riplée, — the Golden Fleece, of Trismosin, — the Shard of Trumpet, — and several other works published under the name of Hermes or under the names of some philosophers of antiquity: Physical Tincture, — Tincture of the Sun and Moon, — Tincture of Precious Stones, &c. Let us add that, in this respect, modern authors do not yield to their predecessors.

Here, for example, are the titles of some works published in the 18th century:

This obscure and enigmatic style is especially evident among the first alchemists. By reading through the writings of the Byzantines, Arabs and Western authors prior to the 15th century, the explanations of the processes relating to the preparation of the philosopher's stone, one would seek in vain to understand the meaning of their descriptions. It is probable, let us say it, that these writers did not understand themselves. All the lexicons that have been proposed are of no help, because on the same page the same term sometimes receives two or three different meanings.

However, it will not be useless to make known how the ancient authors express themselves on the subject of the preparation of the philosopher's stone. We would characterize the works of the alchemists in a very inaccurate way if we stuck to what they wrote that was reasonable and intelligible.

We will first cite, as relating, according to the alchemists, to the preparation of the philosopher's stone, the famous writing which is designated under the name of the Emerald Table, which served as a text for a considerable number comments. Tradition reports that this piece was found by Alexander the Great in the tomb of Hermes hidden, by the care of Egyptian priests, in the depths of the great pyramid of Giza. This piece was given the name Emerald Tablet, because it was believed that it had been engraved by the hand of Hermes on an immense emerald blade with the point of a diamond.

Here is this piece considered in the splendor of alchemy as the oldest document of Hermetic philosophy,

“It is true, without falsehood, certain and very true.
“What is below is like what is above, and what is above is like what is below, to work miracles in one thing.

“And as all things were and came from one, so all things were born in this one thing by adaptation.

“The sun is its father, the moon is its mother, the wind carried it in its belly, the earth is its nurse, the father of everything, the Thelema of all the world is here; its strength is complete if it is converted into earth.

“You will separate the earth from the fire, the subtle from the thick, gently with great industry. He ascends from earth to heaven, and again he descends to earth, and he receives the force of higher and lower things. By this means you will have all the glory of the world, and all darkness will depart from you.
“It is the strong force of all force, for it will overcome every subtle thing and penetrate every solid thing.

“Thus the world was created.
“From this there will be and will come innumerable adaptations, the means of which are here.
“That is why I was called Hermes Trismegistus, having the three parts of the philosophy of -. world.

“What I said about the operation of the sun is accomplished and completed. »
Hortulanus, or the writer referred to as Hortulain (the Gardener), has published a long commentary on this marvelous play. After him there are few alchemists who have not tried to interpret it, and all have remained in agreement that it contains “under a hieroglyphic cover” the preparation of the philosopher's stone.

Father Kircher, who explained Egyptian hieroglyphics with astonishing ease, himself admitted that he could not decipher the meaning of the Emerald Tablet. He nevertheless affirmed that this piece contained the theory of the philosopher's stone: Certissimum est, he tells us. If such a competition of testimonies did not shake disbelief, we would dare to claim that the thing in the world that is least mentioned in the Emerald Tablet is the philosopher's stone.

In his book of the Twelve Doors, G. Riplée gives in these terms the way of preparing the quintessence:

"We must begin at sunset, when the Red husband and the White wife unite in the spirit of life to live in love and in tranquility, in the exact proportion of water and land. From the West advance through the darkness, towards the North; alters and dissolves husband and wife between winter and spring; turn the water into black earth, and rise, through varied colors, towards the East where the full moon shows itself. After purgatory appears the white and radiant sun; it is summer after winter, day after night. Earth and water turned into air, darkness is scattered; the light has come; the West is the beginning of practice, and the East the beginning of theory; the principle of destruction is understood between the East and the West.

"Alongside this grimoire we can cite with advantage the following process of a more modern author, John of Spain:

"Take a winged virgin who is well washed and purified and who is pregnant by the virtue of the spiritual seed of her first husband, without however her virginity being harmed; marry her without suspicion of adultery with the other man, she will conceive again with the bodily semen of the husband, and she will give birth to an honorable child of both sexes: the philosopher's stone. »

Arnauld de Villeneuve expresses himself thus in a paragraph on the preparation of the great work:
“Know, my son, that in this chapter I will teach you the preparation of the philosopher's stone.

“As the world was lost by woman, it must also be restored by her. For this reason, take the mother, place her with her eight sons in her bed; watch over her; let her do strict penance, until she is washed away from all her sins. Then she will give birth to one. son who will sin. Signs have appeared in the sun and in the moon: seize this son and chasten him, so that pride does not destroy him. This done, put him back in his bed, and when you see him regain his senses, you will grab him again to immerse him naked in the cold water; then put him back on his bed once more, and when he has regained his senses, you will seize him again to give him to be crucified to the Jews.

The sun being thus crucified, the moon will not be seen; the curtain of the temple will be torn, and there will be a great earthquake. Then it is time to use a great fire, and a spirit will arise that everyone has been mistaken about. »

This luminous explanation is addressed by Arnauld de Villeneuve to one of his pupils. But he himself seems to appreciate this strange presentation at its true value, because he makes his student respond: “Master, I don’t understand! On which the master promises to be clearer another time.

The following passage from the Peat of Philosophers has nothing to envy of those we have just cited:

“I command you, son of doctrine, freeze quicksilver:

“Of many things done, 2, 3 and 3, 1 , 1 with 3 is 4, 3, 2 and 1. From 4 to 3 there is 1; from 3 to 4 there is 1, therefore 1 and 1, 3 and 4; from 3 to 1 there is 2, from 2 to 3 there is 1, from 3 to 2, 1, 1, 1, 2 and 3. And l, 2, from 2 and 1, 1 from 1 to 2 , 1 therefore 1. I told you everything. »

This is the way to freeze quicksilver. Nothing is simpler. Some of the ancient alchemical treatises are written in this style.

The preparation of the philosopher's stone is often presented, in works of this period, in the form of an allegory or parable. One of these allegories, much admired in the Middle Ages, greatly excited the sagacity of its followers; it was known under the name of the Allegory of Merlin, although the famous enchanter had nothing in common with the alchemists. Here is the translation of this piece, the style of which is quite remarkable:

“A king, wishing to destroy powerful enemies, prepared to wage war against them.

As he was mounting his horse, he ordered one of his soldiers to give him water to drink, which he liked very much. The latter, answering, said: Lord, what is this water that you ask of me? It is, says the king, the water that I love the most and by which I am loved above all. The soldier immediately went and brought it. The king received it and drank a long time, until his limbs were swollen and his veins filled; he became extremely pale; then his soldiers said to him: Lord, here is the horse, is it your pleasure to ride? But the king, answering, said: Know that I cannot go up. Why can't you go up? said the soldiers. Know, said the king to them, that I feel heavy and have severe headaches; it seems to me that all my members are detached from me.

I therefore order you to place me in a clear room, to bring this room to a warm and dry place, maintained night and day at a moderate heat. So I will sweat; the water that I drank will disappear, and I will be delivered. The soldiers did as the king ordered. After the required time, they opened the door and found the king half dead. The parents immediately ran to the doctors of Egypt and Alexandria, who must be honored among all, and brought them with them, telling them the event. These, having seen the king, declared that it was easy to deliver him; the parents then said, addressing themselves to the doctors: Which of you will take care of it? We, please, said the physicians of Alexandria; but the physicians of Egypt resumed: We do not like it; it is us that this care concerns, because we are the oldest.

The Alexandrians having consented, the physicians of Egypt took the king, cut him into small pieces, and, having moistened him with a. little of their medicine, they put him back in his room in a dry and warm place, kept night and day, as before, at a moderate heat; he was taken out almost dead and retaining only a breath of life. Seeing this, the parents began to shout saying; the physicians of Egypt took the king, cut him into small pieces, and, having moistened him with a.

little of their medicine, they put him back in his room in a dry and warm place, kept night and day, as before, at a moderate heat; they pulled him out almost dead and retaining only a breath of life. Seeing this, the parents began to shout saying; the physicians of Egypt took the king, cut him into small pieces, and, having moistened him with a. little of their medicine, they put him back in his room in a dry and warm place, kept night and day, as before, at a moderate heat; they pulled him out almost dead and retaining only a breath of life. Seeing this, the parents began to shout saying;

Alas! the king is dead ! He is not dead, replied the doctors, do not cry, because he is sleeping, and his sleep will end. They took the king again, washed him with fresh water until the taste of medicine had disappeared; they washed him again with the same medicine and put him back in the same place as before; but when it was removed, the parents began to cry out loudly again: Alas! the king is dead !

- We killed the king, replied the doctors, so that he would reappear in this world, after his resurrection on the day of judgment, better and stronger than before. When the parents heard this, they considered the doctors as impostors, and immediately they took away their medicine and drove them out of the kingdom. This done, they began to deliberate among themselves, to find out what should be done with this poisoned corpse. It was agreed to bury him, lest the odor of his putrefaction become harmful; but the physicians of Alexandria, hearing this, came to them and said: Do not bury the king, for if you wish we will make him healthier and more beautiful than before. But the parents began to smile, saying:

Do you want to make fun of us like the others? Know that if you don't keep your promises, you won't get out of our hands. So the doctors took the king's corpse, washed it until all the medicine that was left was removed, and dried it. They then took one part of sal ammoniac and two parts of alexandrine nitre, which they mixed with the powder of the dead; with a little linseed oil, they made a paste of it and placed it in a chamber made in the shape of a cross, with an opening at the bottom; they placed it below this opening, in another vase, made in the shape of a cross, and left it there for an hour.

Finally they covered him with fire and blew until he melted; he then descended through the opening into the chamber below. Finally the king, returning from death to life, uttered a loud cry: Where are the enemies? he said. I will kill them all if they do not come and submit to me without delay.

Finally they covered him with fire and blew until he melted; he then descended through the opening into the chamber below. Finally the king, returning from death to life, uttered a loud cry: Where are the enemies? he said. I will kill them all if they do not come and submit to me without delay. Finally they covered him with fire and blew until he melted; he then descended through the opening into the chamber below. Finally the king, returning from death to life, uttered a loud cry: Where are the enemies? he said. I will kill them all if they do not come and submit to me without delay.

All therefore ran towards him saying: Lord, here we are, we are ready to obey your orders. Therefore from that time on the kings and mighty ones of other nations honored him with fear as before.

“And, when one wanted to see its marvels, one placed in a vase an ounce of well washed mercury, and one threw on its surface about the size of a grain of millet, nails, hair or blood of the king, and by lightly blowing the coals, we found the stone that I know well; we projected a little of this stone onto purified lead, which immediately took the shape that I know well; one then placed a part of this on ten parts of copper, and the whole became excellent and of a single color; we then took this third stone, we mixed it as above with salt and gold; we liquefied it, and we threw these dissolved salts on goat's whey. Thus the most excellent work was accomplished.

“Preserve, brother, this treatise and watch over it, for the best thing is foolishness among fools, but not among wise people. This is the path of the three royal days by which, with a little work, a great benefit is reserved for you. »

The author of this allegory is not known; the oriental color of its style has caused it to be attributed an Arab origin, but imitation of this style is too easy for this argument to have value. Since the expression "philosopher's stone" in the title of the allegory is never found among Arab authors, this piece undoubtedly belongs to some writer from the Middle Ages.

As another example of a chemical allegory, we can cite the Allegory of the Fountain by Bernard le Trevisan.

These quotations suffice to give an idea of ​​the enigmatic expositions familiar to the ancient authors, and of the allegorical form with which several of them clothed their descriptions. We will not insist further on this point, and we pass without regret over the enigmas, allegories and parables which fill the innumerable writings of ancient alchemy. Some people do not disdain rebuses and logographs; but at least the logograph must hide a word. Let us come to the more precise indications provided by writers of another era, for the preparation of the philosopher's stone.

It was in the 16th century that alchemical language began to strip itself of its veils. It is therefore by turning to modern works that we will be able to find some information on the different means employed by the alchemists for the realization of the great work.

The general process for the preparation of the philosopher's stone is exposed in fairly intelligible terms in a few treatises of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and notably in the Library of Chemical Philosophers, by Salmon, in the Open Entrance to the Closed Palace of the King, by Philaletus, and in the Treatise of an Unknown Philosopher.

To understand the processes that we are going to summarize, it is necessary to remember that the alchemists assimilated the generation of metals to the evolution of organized bodies, and that they supposed that metals take birth, like animals and plants, by the union of two male and female seeds. The alchemist's science therefore consisted of artificially bringing together, within his devices, the two seeds necessary for the generation of gold. These raw materials were then abandoned for a sufficient time, in a vase which was designated, because of its shape and its destination, under the name of philosophical egg, and sometimes under the name of athanor or house of the wise chicken. After the appropriate incubation time, the perfect metal should be generated.

But what are the two substances that can play this role of metallic seed?

According to most authors, these two substances are: ordinary gold, which constitutes the male seed, and the mercury of the philosophers, which is also called the first agent, and which represents the female seed.

The adept Salmon informs us, in the Library of the chemical philosophers, of the way in which it is necessary to proceed to combine the vulgar gold with the mercury of the philosophers and thus obtain the stone of the sages.

“Here is how,” says Salmon, “the philosophers assure that the thing is done. The mercury of the philosophers (which they call the female) being joined and amalgamated with the gold (which is the male) very pure and in sheets or filings, and put in the philosopher's egg (which is a small matras made of oval, which must be sealed hermetically, for fear that nothing of the matter exhales), we place this egg in a bowl full of ashes, which we put in the stove, and then this mercury, by the heat of its interior sulfur, excited by the fire that the artist lights outside and which he continually maintains in a necessary degree and proportion, this mercury, I say, dissolves gold without violence and reduces it to atoms . »

We thus obtain after six months a black powder which, in the description that Salmon gives us, bears the name of raven's head, Saturn or Cimmerian darkness. If the action of heat is prolonged, the material becomes white, it is the white dye or small philosopher's stone, which can convert metals into silver and make pearls. Finally, if we increase the heat, the material melts, turns green and changes into a red powder. It is the real philosopher's stone. Projected onto a base metal in a molten state, it immediately transforms it into gold.

The only difficulty in preparing the philosopher's stone is obtaining the philosophers' mercury. Once this agent is found, the operation is, as we have just seen, the simplest thing in the world; as Isaac the Dutchman so well said, it is “a woman’s work and a child’s play”; and the conduct of the great work then offers, according to Nicolas Flamel, so little difficulty,

That a woman shooting in a rocket
would not be diverted from it at all.

But the preparation of this philosophical mercury is not a small undertaking. All alchemists recognize that this discovery is beyond human reach, and that it can only be reached thanks to divine revelation or through the friendship of an adept who himself has received it from God.

However, philosophers have tried to do without divine help. All their work was inspired by the desire to compose this philosophical mercury, which they designate by the most diverse names. It is the animated mercury, the double mercury, the twice born mercury, the green lion, the serpent, the pontic water, the son of the Virgin and the milk of the Virgin. But, it must be said, they have never succeeded in discovering it, although they have looked for it in all the bodies which are in nature, and even, as we shall see, in some which are not. are not there.

Let us quickly review the numerous substances in which the mercury of the philosophers, also called the first agent of the philosopher's stone, has been sought.

The first agent was mainly sought in metals. This idea was only natural in the theory professed by the alchemists on the composition of metallic substances. If we managed to remove their common elements, sulfur and mercury, from metals in a state of absolute purity, we could hope to then combine them to make silver or gold. This is what Riplée makes us feel quite rightly. Le Cosmopolite also says:
“If you want to make a metal, take a metal; for a dog is never begotten except by a dog. »

Arsenic was one of the first metals that alchemists tried to obtain the philosopher's stone. This is what earned him the trust of his followers for a long time. We find in ancient works of art a Greek riddle of unknown origin and of which here is the translation: “

I have nine letters, I am four syllables, know me;

Each of the first three has two letters;
The others have the other letters, and there are five consonants;
Through me you will possess wisdom. »

We guessed that the logogriph's word was arsenicon, arsenic. Arsenic vapors in fact whiten the copper, and this alteration was long considered as the beginning of transmutation into silver, or as a true transmutation. But it was later recognized that copper bleached with arsenic is not silver. A professor from Jena, Georges Wedel, therefore presented a different interpretation: the word of the enigma was cassiteros, tin. But nothing could be learned from this new metal, and it was subsequently recognized that Wedel's explanation implied a spelling error in the word cassiteros.

A few other solutions were still proposed without success. Finally an alchemist, bored with the logogriphe, cut the knot by saying that it was a question of Christ (X ). As we see, the follower acted a little like Alexander, because his interpretation left two letters unused. It is true that Wedel had already made short work of spelling, and therefore the first blow had been struck.

In mercurio est quidquid quœrunt sapientes.
In Mercury there is whatever the wise seek.

This adage, attributed to Hermes, has given rise to immense research; It was long hoped to be able to extract from common mercury the mercury of philosophers, and many followers claimed to have succeeded. But most of the innumerable recipes recommended by alchemists to obtain, using common mercury, the mercury of philosophers or the first agent, only resulted in the production of corrosive sublimate, which, as everyone knows, does not has nothing in common with the philosopher's stone.

This is how, in his Philosophical Rosary, Arnauld de Villeneuve gives the following recipe for the preparation of the philosopher's stone:

“Take three parts of pure silver filings; grind them with a part of mercury until a pasty material results, digest with a mixture of vinegar and salt, and sublimate the whole. »

In this operation only the sublimated was formed.

Trismosin, in his Aureum Véllus, gives the following process:
“We sublimate mercury with alum and saltpetre, eating very thick slices of butter during this operation to destroy the harmful action of the vapors which are released. The product of sublimation is distilled with spirits of wine and cohobed until completely dried. »

The residue of this distillation was still only corrosive sublimate,
Antimony has, like mercury, been the subject of a large number of attempts. Al. de Suchten claims to have found the first agent in this metal.

But all the research on metals remained without result, and it was recognized, although a little late, that Roger Bacon had not been wrong to proscribe metals for the preparation of the philosopher's stone. Gold and silver, said this philosopher with great sense, are too fixed for anything to come out of them; the other metals are too poor; no one can give what he does not have.

Not satisfied with the use of metallic substances, the alchemists fell back on salts. There was no lack of good reasons in favor of this choice. First there was the 34th verse of the 14th chapter of Saint Luke: “Salt is a good thing! » The following passage from the Rosary of Arnauld de Villeneuve was also cited: “He who knows salt and its preparation possesses the hidden secret of the ancient wise men. So almost all known salts were tried. Sea salt was long regarded as the first agent. The monk Odomar, who first expressed this opinion in 1350, found many supporters. Rupescissa gave, after him, a process for the preparation of stone with sea salt. The grand chaplain of Louis XIII, Gabriel de Châtaigne,
Saltpeter has enjoyed a great reputation, because it is found in the three kingdoms, which agrees with the triple nature that Paracelsus grants to the quintessence. This was also the opinion of the Cosmopolitan, who calls the first agent a sal niter; it is true that he said precisely the opposite, as we have just seen, in speaking of metals; but it is understood that we do not stop here to point out the contradictions of the alchemists.

Vitriol is, after sea salt and saltpetre, the salt that has been tormented the most to remove the philosopher's stone. Basile Valentin peppered his writings with logographs, several of which designate vitriol. It is as follows: Visitando interiora terrae, rectificandoque, inventes occultum lapidem, veram medicicam. By joining together the first letters of each word, we find the word Vitriolum. This was all it took to admit that the primary agent lies in vitriol. It was enough, as we see, to show the followers a corner of the truth; their imagination did the rest. But this time again the truth was not there.

Not content with focusing on products of mineral origin, alchemists have also long studied substances provided by plants. Greek authors recommended the juice of celandine, undoubtedly because the juice and root of this plant have a yellow color reminiscent of gold; Pseudo-Democritus prescribed primrose and rhubarb from Pontus. Raymond Lulle indicates, for transmutations into silver, the juice of the lunaria major and minor plants, undoubtedly due to the silver color of their pods. It was also with these plants that the Provençal alchemist Delisle, in the 18th century, claimed to prepare his projection powder.

Hortulanus, in the 16th century, gives the following singular process for preparing stone by vegetable work:

“The juices of mercurial, purslane and celandine are digested for twelve days in manure; one distills, one obtains a red liquor; they put it back in manure; worms are born which devour each other, except one, which remains alone; the survivor is fed with the three previous plants until it has become large; it is then burned and reduced to ashes; its powder is mixed with the oil of vitriol. This
is the quintessence.

In the 18th century, the philosopher's stone was sought in animal products; the agent which ennobles base metals must be found in the human body, which has the property of ennobling food, since it converts them into organs. It was pointed out that the strength of the organization sometimes produced precious metals, which was sufficiently demonstrated by the stories of children with gold teeth.

Almost all the products of the human body were tried, according to the most vague indications found in the ancient authors. Blood, saliva, hair, etc. were examined. The mercury of the philosophers is designated by the name of Virgin's milk; the expression menstruum is often used in alchemical writings; the philosopher's stone was therefore sought even in the milk of virgins and the blood of menses. But the attention was directed especially towards the products of excretion, because these substances which stay a long time in the cavities of the body, were to be more strongly impregnated with the vital forces of the organism. Incredible operations were performed in this kind of research, which it would be impossible to describe in honest language. Besides, they did not fail to justify them by various passages taken from the best authorities. Thus Morien says in the dialogue of King Calid:

“I confess to you, O king! that God put this thing in you; wherever you are, it is within you, and cannot be separated. »

A large number of authors certify that the poor possess the philosopher's stone as well as the rich and that Adam took it with him from paradise. All these assertions could only be explained in the idea to which we are alluding. Haimon says, in his Epistle on the Stones:

“To obtain the first agent, one must go to the rear part of the world, where one hears thunder rumbling, wind blowing, hail and rain falling; that's where we'll find it if we look for it. »

Now, adds Mr. Kopp, from whom we borrow the preceding quotations, if we understand by world the microcosm that man represents, the interpretation will be easy.

Once launched on the path of these madnesses, the alchemists were not to stop. We refuse to give a complete idea of ​​the deplorable aberrations recorded in their writings, the delusions of the imagination, the disorders of the mind escape analysis; let us content ourselves with a few features.

We find quite often, in ancient authors, the expression terra virgo, terra virginea. Starting from this fact, some adepts made the following reasoning:

Since metals are born in the bosom of the earth, the earth is the mother of metals. Thus the virgin earth must contain the seed or germ of metals, that is to say the philosopher's stone. So we looked for this virgin land. By digging in the ground, and taking earth at some distance from its surface, one must have found virgin earth, for it has not undergone the touch of the hand of man. But the earth was never found to be sufficiently virgin.

G. Stahl, the immortal author of the theory of phlogiston and the first founder of true chemistry, had not known how to defend himself in his youth from alchemical absurdities; he claimed that the philosopher's stone exists in the red stained glass windows of ancient churches. These stained glass windows owe their color to a compound, Cassius purple, which contains gold in the number of its elements, and this is undoubtedly the circumstance which gave rise, in Stahl's mind, to the opinion that we just pointed out.

The alchemists applied themselves for a long time to obtaining a material which they designated under the name of spiritus mundi, soul of the world, to which they attributed a host of marvelous properties which it would be very difficult to specify. This matter existed in the air; to isolate it, they resorted to the most bizarre means. It was sought in all substances which remain exposed for a long time to the action of the air; in the water of the rain, in the recently fallen snow, in the dew. In 1665, Th. Ershant submitted observations on the dew of May to the Royal Society of London. Others claimed to have studied the matter of shooting stars which, while passing through the atmosphere, absorb the spiritus mundi. Finally, reflecting that toads, lizards and snakes deprived of food,

This is what madness the alchemists fell into. The principle which served as the starting point for their work, however, had nothing irrational and had an irrefutable scientific character. Pursued to the end of its consequences, it led to senseless practices. We are frightened by such memories; Is the mind of man so made that, starting from a principle accepted by reason, it can lead to madness?
Let us come to the practical researches which are connected with mystical alchemy, or which are its consequence. We can reduce them, with M. Kopp, to the search for the alkaest of palingenesis and the homunculus.

Alcaest is the ideal of menstruation, the solvent par excellence, the agent which can give all bodies the liquid form. It was only in the 16th century that people began to deal with the universal solvent. Paracelsus mentions it first, but he speaks of it only in one place in his works and in the most vague way. Here is the original passage from the treatise of Viribus membrorum which introduced the idea of ​​universal menstruation into alchemy:

“There is also the alcaest liquor, which acts very effectively on the liver; it sustains it, fortifies it and preserves it from the diseases which can reach it... All those who apply themselves to medicine must know how to prepare the alcaest. »

Like so many other ideas launched by the famous Spagyrist, the alcaest would have quickly fallen into oblivion, if Van Helmont had not seized it and enriched it with marvelous attributes, well suited to seduce the imagination followers. Paracelsus had pronounced the name; Van Helmont took it upon himself to attach the idea to it. It was he who made alcaeste the universal solvent that Paracelsus never dreamed of. In the works of Van Helmont one finds together all the absurdities which have since been spouted on this subject by the alchemists.

Van Helmont designates the alcaest under the most diverse names; it is first a water, then a fire-water (ignis-aqua), a hellfire (ignis gehennce); it is a salt, and the happiest, the most perfect of salts (summum et felicissimum omnium salium); the secret of its preparation is beyond human skill; it is up to God to reveal it to his elect. Van Helmont owned it; this treasure was given to him one day by a stranger, but he could not keep it for long. Here are the properties which Van Helmont swears to have recognized in the alcaest; We can judge, from this example, of the incredible assurance with which scientists, very commendable in fact, made the most risky assertions: Here are the properties which Van Helmont swears to have recognized in the alcaest; We can judge, from this example, of the incredible assurance with which scientists, very commendable in fact, made the most risky assertions: Here are the properties which Van Helmont swears to have recognized in the alcaest; We can judge, from this example, of the incredible assurance with which scientists, very commendable in fact, made the most risky assertions:

“Our mechanics has taught me,” he told us, “that all kinds of bodies, namely: common stones, precious stones, pebbles, sand, marcasites, clay, bricks, glass, lime, sulfur and other similar things can be changed into a soluble substance. I even know how to reduce flesh, bones, plants, fish and all other bodies of this species to their principle. Metals dissolve more difficult because of their seed... This liquor dissolves all bodies, except itself, as hot water melts snow. »

Van Helmont describes his imaginary experiences with such confidence1 that one would swear he is speaking firsthand:

“Having put, he says, oak charcoal and alcaest in equal parts in a hermetically sealed glass vessel, I digested this mixture for three days in the heat of a bath; at the end of this time, the solution was found... If one digests, at a moderate heat, alcaest with fragments of cedar wood, in a well sealed glass vessel, a week everything is changed into a liquor similar to milk. »

It is easy to understand the benefit that the alchemists hoped to gain from a substance which dissolves all bodies. Also, in the 17th century and until the middle of the 18th century, the alcaest was sought with ardor. Boerhaave assures us that we could make a library with only the writings that have been published on this subject. In his treatise De secretis adep-torum, Verdenfeit reported all the opinions expressed on the nature of the universal menstruation.

A large number of alchemists boasted of having discovered it. Zwelfer and Tackenius had removed it from vinegar distilled from verdigris, Werner Rolfink from tartar. Glauber thought for some time that alcaest was nothing other than its admirable salt, which dissolves, or, if you like, makes coal disappear at red temperature, by forming a sulphide and carbonic acid; but Glauber's salt had nothing to justify the idea of ​​a general solvent.

At the beginning of the 18th century, alchemists tried to resolve this problem through etymology. We know that Paracelsus often disguises the names of the substances he speaks of by using certain transpositions of letters; when he wants to say, for example, that tartar is useful against engorgement of the rare, instead of the word tartarus, he writes sutartrar; when he prescribes saffron, aroma philosophorum, for kidney diseases, he calls it aroph. We therefore sought with this key the composition of the alcaest. We generally settled on a second opinion of Glauber, who saw alcaest in the mineral alkali or potash, according to this etymology alkaline est. But potash, which has very varied dissolving properties, is far from offering all those of alcaest. Some other etymological explanations were therefore resorted to. Some found universal menstruation in marine or muriatic acid; others saw in it the spiritus mundi, from the German word all Geist.

However, in the middle of the 18th century, the uselessness of the research undertaken to find alcaest led to the idea of ​​a universal solvent being abandoned. Kunckel put an end to all these discussions with a very simple reflection. He pointed out that if alcaest had ever existed, it would have been impossible to preserve it, since, dissolving all substances, it would also have had to dissolve the matter of the vessel which contained it. Nobody had thought of that yet.

“If alcaest,” says Kunckel, “dissolves all bodies, it must dissolve the vessel which contains it; if it dissolves silica, it must dissolve the glass which is formed of silica. There has been much discussion about this great solvent of nature. Some take it from the Latin alkali est, others from two German words all Geist (universal spirit); others derive it from alles ist (that's all). For me, I don't believe in the universal solvent, and I call it by its real name: alles Lügen heist or alles Lügen ist; all this is a lie.

From that moment there was no longer any question of the alcaest.

The facts relating to palingenesis and the homunculus are not directly connected with the labors of the great work; however, as the alchemists alone have spoken of it, we must say a few words about it.

By palingenesis we understood the art of making plants reborn from their ashes; the homunculus was a small animal or miniature man made by spagyric processes. The first operation is impossible; the second reaches the final limits of human extravagance; It is therefore quite simple that alchemists found these two problems to their liking, that some tried to solve them, and that an even greater number claimed to have succeeded.

The belief in palingenesis probably owed its origin to this circumstance, that when the ashes of some plants are dissolved in water, the dissolution, left to itself, leaves crystals deposited, some of which may affect the tree shape. In the 17th century, more than one impostor had the skill to make people believe in this madness: by sowing the ashes of a plant in the ground, it was later seen to be reborn and develop. We understand that the whole secret lay in a sleight of hand; it was only a matter of skilfully slipping a few seeds into the buried ashes. Despite its absurdity, palingenesis has had a large number of supporters among the alchemists. It was maintained until the beginning of the 18th century, despite the attacks of Boyle, by Van Helmont and Kunckel. In 1716, the doctor Frank de Frankenau wrote another special work to combat it. Convinced of imposture, the alchemists got away with it by saying that they had not intended to designate a real plant, but an ideal plant.

Amatus Lusitanus is one of the first who spoke of the homunculus. He claims to have seen, in a vial, a little man one inch long that Julius Camillus had made by alchemical processes. Paracelsus (from Naturâ rerum) maintains that pygmies, fauns, nymphs and satyrs were generated by chemistry. He reports the process which makes it possible to prepare the homunculus, and thus to set himself up inexpensively as a new Prometheus. However the alchemists themselves fought against this extravagance. The manufacture of the homunculus is classified by Kunckel among the non entia chimica: “Homo, secretâ ratione, in vitro, vel ampullâ chimica, arte fabricatus, est non ens, - Man, secretly, in glass, or in a chemical vial, manufactured by art, is not a being” he tells us in his Laboratorium chymicum.

Which didn't prevent imposters and itinerant alchemists from putting the idea to good use. They asserted that the homunculus is formed in the urine of children; that it is initially invisible and then feeds on wine and rose water; a small cry announces its birth. The formation of the homunculus was even publicly shown. The process consisted of slipping a few ivory bones into the vase; they were then presented to the spectators, saying that it was the skeleton of the homunculus that died for lack of care. The process consisted of slipping a few ivory bones into the vase; they were then presented to spectators saying that they were the skeleton of the homunculus that had died due to lack of care. The process consisted of slipping a few ivory bones into the vase; they were then presented to the spectators, saying that it was the skeleton of the homunculus that died for lack of care.

CHAPTER III.

PROOFS CALLED BY ALCHEMISTS IN SUPPORT OF THEIR DOCTRINES.

Let us move on to the exposition of the proofs which the alchemists invoked in favor of their doctrines. These proofs were deduced from theory, drawn from the facts of experience, or borrowed from historical testimony.

The principle established since Geber on the composition of metals, the generally accepted opinion on their mode of generation, are the theoretical foundation of alchemy. If the metals are of a uniform composition, we can, as we have said, hope, with the help of suitable actions, to transform them one after the other.

Many authors compare this phenomenon to organic fermentation; the philosopher's stone playing, according to them, the role of a ferment, causes in metals a modification analogous to that which the ferment itself excites in organic products. The comparison is beautiful and the idea plausible. Several processes given by various authors for the preparation of the philosopher's stone are based on this kind of fermentation of metals,

The experimental facts that the alchemists presented in support of their opinions were very numerous. They were almost all true, the interpretation alone was vicious. These facts also varied at different periods of science.

Originally, the modifications that the color of metals undergoes under the influence of a large number of chemical actions were considered as indications of transmutation. Copper exposed to the action of arsenic vapors takes on a white color; treated with zinc oxide or cadmium, it takes on a beautiful golden yellow color. These color alterations were long considered as a partial transmutation. In the 13th century, for example, Saint Thomas Aquinas told us in his Treatise on the Essence of Minerals: “If you spray sublimated white arsenic on copper, you will see the copper whiten; if you then add half pure silver, you will transform all the copper into real silver. » By this operation, the copper takes on a bright white color,

It was later recognized that the change in color of a metal is not the effect of a transmutation; but at the same time other phenomena were discovered which, in their turn, badly interpreted, came to furnish new support to the hopes of the gold makers. Among these facts, we must especially cite metallic precipitation. When a copper blade is immersed in the solution of a silver salt, the copper is immediately covered with a layer of silver; in a solution of a copper salt, the iron is immediately coated with a layer of copper; mercury solutions whiten many metals and give them a silvery appearance, etc. However, chemists were unaware until the beginning of the 17th century that salts often contain metals among their elements. We did not suspect then that metallic substances can exist dissolved in a liquid. The metallic precipitations were therefore regarded as true transmutations, or as partial transmutations which art could perfect.

No one, for example, understood until the early years of the seventeenth century that blue vitriol is a compound of copper, and that a solution of this salt is, strictly speaking, only dissolved copper. Also the deposit of copper which is obtained by dipping an iron blade in a similar liquor is given as unquestionable proof of the transmutation of iron into copper by Paracelsus and Libavius. Metallic precipitations were therefore regarded as true transmutations, or as partial transmutations that art could perfect.

No one, for example, understood, until the early years of the 17th century, that blue vitriol is a compound of copper, and that a dissolution of this salt is, strictly speaking, only dissolved copper. Also the deposit of copper which is obtained by dipping an iron blade in a similar liquor is given as unquestionable proof of the transmutation of iron into copper by Paracelsus and Libavius.

Metallic precipitations were therefore regarded as true transmutations, or as partial transmutations that art could perfect. No one, for example, understood, until the early years of the 17th century, that blue vitriol is a compound of copper, and that a dissolution of this salt is, strictly speaking, only dissolved copper. Also the deposit of copper which is obtained by dipping an iron blade in a similar liquor is given as unquestionable proof of the transmutation of iron into copper by Paracelsus and Libavius. and that a solution of this salt is, strictly speaking, only dissolved copper. Also the deposit of copper which is obtained by dipping an iron blade in a similar liquor is given as unquestionable proof of the transmutation of iron into copper by Paracelsus and Libavius.

and that a solution of this salt is, strictly speaking, only dissolved copper. Also the deposit of copper which is obtained by dipping an iron blade in a similar liquor is given as unquestionable proof of the transmutation of iron into copper by Paracelsus and Libavius.

A circumstance which could have contributed greatly to accrediting beliefs in the facts of transmutation, and to making the operations by means of which hermetic artists knew how to produce gold considered as immune from all doubt, is imperfection. processes used at that time for the analysis of precious alloys.

Until the middle of the 16th century, mints limited themselves to analyzing gold and silver alloys using the old royal cement process or using antimony sulphide.

Royal cement was a mixture of common salt, vitriol (iron or copper sulphate), nitre and crushed bricks. This mixture, through a series of reactions that can be easily analyzed, gave rise to hydrochloric acid and chlorine which formed a chloride with the silver, while the gold remained unaltered. Antimony sulphide, which was almost exclusively used in the Middle Ages, separated gold by forming a meltable compound with silver that resisted heat, while the gold remained in the metallic state. .

The gold then had to be subjected to calcination in a crucible, in order to rid it of the antimony which had partly combined with it during the first operation. To do this, using a bellows, a current of air was directed to the surface of the molten metal, in order to drive out the antimony oxide as it formed. However, these two means of analysis were very imperfect, and it must have happened many times that alchemical gold, that is to say gold obtained during the operations of hermetic artists, was considered by public assayers and mint masters as pure gold, although that it was altered by the presence of a notable quantity of silver. If, in fact, in an alloy of gold and silver, the quantity of the latter metal is not too high, we can imagine that the presence of excess gold can protect the silver from chemical action. reagents used to make its presence known. We do not hesitate to believe that some of the transmutations of silver into gold which were carried out before the 16th century and which the authors of these experiments often presented in good faith,

At the beginning or middle of the 16th century, strong water (azotic acid) was substituted for antimony sulfide for the analysis of gold and silver alloys. But this process, although much superior to the two previous ones, could still give rise to certain errors. All chemists know that azotic acid does not attack an alloy of gold and silver, when gold appears in a somewhat high proportion.

Also, in the analysis of commercial alloys, we are obliged, to avoid any error, to artificially increase the quantity of silver existing in the alloy: we add to the gold examined three times its weight of silver ; hence the name inquartation, for this part of the departure operations. If we neglect this precaution, nitric acid would remain without dissolving action on the silver contained in the alloy, or would produce only an incomplete action. At a time when this remarkable fact was still ignored, a large number of errors could be made in the analysis of precious alloys, and often considered as pure gold ingots of alchemical gold which nevertheless contained a notable quantity silver.

Another category of facts has long served to maintain alchemical beliefs. In a large number of operations on base metals, it was believed that silver or gold were formed from scratch. The error arose from the fact that the materials used contained small quantities of these precious metals, which the current state of chemical knowledge had not made it possible to detect. We find in Geber's Sum of Perfection, a rather curious example of this error:

“I have seen,” says Geber, “copper mines in which small particles of this metal were carried away by a current of water which ran through the mine. This water having dried up, the copper plots remained for three years in dry sand. I recognized, at the end of this time, that they had been cooked and digested by the heat of the sun and changed into flakes of pure gold... By imitating nature, we make the same alteration. »

When we know that all sands contain very small quantities of gold, we easily realize the phenomenon reported by Geber. The flakes of copper, long abandoned in contact with air and water, had gradually disappeared passing into the state of carbonate, thanks to the oxygen and carbonic acid contained in the water; later, the sands, constantly washed by the current, had been swept away in their turn, and had ended by leaving uncovered, by this kind of natural levigation, the little bits of gold which they retained. But in Geber's time the presence of gold in the sands was unknown; the explanation that the Arab chemist gives us of this phenomenon was therefore perfectly natural.

An experiment of the famous Boyle has long been cited as an unanswerable demonstration of the fact of the transmutation of metals. By dissolving gold in an aqua regia containing antimony chloride, Boyle obtained a fairly notable quantity of silver. This metal came from antimony chloride which retained a certain quantity of silver. In 1669, Bêcher proposed to the States General of Holland to transform the sand of the dunes into gold. This proposal, which was examined by skilful chemists, on the orders of the Dutch government, was only rejected by consideration of the poor state of the finances of the kingdom, which did not allow the necessary expenses to be devoted to operations.

However, the various chemical treatments to which Bêcher proposed subjecting marine sands, had no other result than to expose the infinitely small quantity of gold contained in the sands. Becher also claimed, by calcining the clays with oil, to change them into iron: this is the operation he calls Minera arenaria perpetua. The metal thus obtained came from the iron oxide contained in the clays, the organic matter reducing the oxide to the metallic state.

Finally, in an infinite number of cases, it was believed to have artificially manufactured mercury. Valerius, Grove and Teichmeyer report a large number of examples of this so-called mercurification. Juncker, in his Chemistry Conspectus, summarizes them with great clarity. by calcining the clays with oil, changing them into iron: this is the operation he calls Minera arenaria perpetua. The metal thus obtained came from the iron oxide contained in the clays, the organic matter reducing the oxide to the metallic state.

Finally, in an infinite number of cases, it was believed to have artificially manufactured mercury. Valerius, Grove and Teichmeyer report a large number of examples of this so-called mercurification. Juncker, in his Chemistry Conspectus, summarizes them with great clarity. by calcining the clays with oil, changing them into iron: this is the operation he calls Minera arenaria perpetua. The metal thus obtained came from the iron oxide contained in the clays, the organic matter reducing the oxide to the metallic state.

Finally, in an infinite number of cases, it was believed to have artificially manufactured mercury. Valerius, Grove and Teichmeyer report a large number of examples of this so-called mercurification. Juncker, in his Chemistry Conspectus, summarizes them with great clarity.

Finally, in an infinite number of cases, it was believed to have artificially manufactured mercury. Valerius, Grove and Teichmeyer report a large number of examples of this so-called mercurification. Juncker, in his Chemistry Conspectus, summarizes them with great clarity.

Finally, in an infinite number of cases, it was believed to have artificially manufactured mercury. Valerius, Grove and Teichmeyer report a large number of examples of this so-called mercurification. Juncker, in his Chemistry Conspectus, summarizes them with great clarity.

These errors, based on the imperfection of analytical chemistry, were maintained throughout the last century; they must have contributed greatly to delaying the disappearance of alchemy. In 1709, Homberg assured that pure silver melted with antimony sulfide changes into gold. It was not recognized until a long time later that the gold came from antimony sulfide which always retains a certain quantity. In 1786, Guyton de Morveau, confirming the assertion of a doctor from Cassel, announced that silver melted with arsenic changes into gold. It was then demonstrated that the arsenic from Salzburg, which had been used, was gold-bearing.

Thus the facts presented at the various epochs of alchemy, to justify the principle of transmutation, were all real; their explanation alone was wrong. At a time when no theory could give an exact account of the true nature of the intimate alterations of bodies, nothing was more natural than to take certain compounds for metals which offer a resemblance in appearance.

Have not the chemists of our time, for twenty-six years, considered as metals an oxide, uranium protoxide, and a nitrogenous combination, titanium azide? Let us add that the idea of ​​the composition of metals was still only plausible in itself. In the presence of a thousand transformations, of the incessant modifications that matter undergoes, this thought of the composition of metals is the only one which must have presented itself to the first observers.

Moreover, by a strange reversal and one likely to inspire us with reserve in the appreciation of the scientific views of the past, chemistry, today, after having for fifty years considered the principle of the simplicity of metals as unassailable , is inclined today to abandon it. The existence, in ammoniacal salts, of a metal composed of hydrogen and nitrogen, which bears the name of ammonium, is today unanimously admitted.

In recent years we have succeeded in producing a whole series of compounds containing a real metal, and this metal is made up of the union of three or four different bodies. The number of combinations of this kind increases every day and tends more and more to cast doubt on the simplicity of metals. Let us conclude from this examination that the facts borrowed from experience offered sufficient probability characteristics to fool the minds of the observers and thus authorize their beliefs in the great phenomenon whose realization they were pursuing.
The last and most powerful argument that the proponents of alchemy presented in support of their doctrines was provided by historical facts.

Theory and experience justified in the minds of scientists the dogma of the transmutation of metals; but if alchemy had only called to its aid scientific authority whose testimony, always questionable, is accessible only to a small number of minds, it is certain that his reign would have enjoyed only 'a fleeting duration. After several centuries of fruitless efforts, it would have disappeared to give way to conceptions more useful to the advancement and happiness of humanity. If, on the contrary, from the 16th century, alchemy penetrated into the heart of societies, if it found in all classes and in all ranks innumerable proselytes, if it finally became the scientific religion of the vulgar, it is because, around this time, strange events came to astonish to the highest degree the imagination of men .

At the end of the sixteenth century and at the beginning of the following century, a certain number of individuals showed themselves at once in various parts of Europe, boasting of having discovered the long-sought secret of hermetic science, and proving by facts, apparently irrefutable, the reality of this operation of the great work whose data science accepted and legitimized the hope.

the imagination of men. At the end of the sixteenth century and at the beginning of the following century, a certain number of individuals showed themselves at once in various parts of Europe, boasting of having discovered the long-sought secret of hermetic science, and proving by facts, apparently irrefutable, the reality of this operation of the great work of which science accepted the datum and legitimized the hope. the imagination of men. At the end of the 16th century and the beginning of the following century, a certain number of individuals appeared at the same time in various parts of Europe, boasting of having discovered the much sought-after secret of hermetic science, and proving by facts, apparently irrefutable, the reality of this operation of the great work whose data science accepted and legitimized the hope.

We will find, in the third part of this work, the account of the singular events which have excited in Europe such a long emotion, and have contributed to maintain for so long the belief in the theories and in the practice of the transmutation of metals. For the moment we just have to rely on the memories of our readers. Let us confine ourselves to saying that the historical evidence invoked by the alchemists to establish the existence of the philosopher's stone, constituted in their eyes the most striking demonstration of the certainty of the great work.

For the supporters that alchemy continues to retain today, this type of proof is still unanswerable. Schmieder, professor of philosophy at Halle, who brought together with the greatest care all the facts of transmutation1, does not hesitate to declare that unless the authority of the testimony of men is challenged in all cases, it must be recognized that in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the secret of making gold was discovered. He points out that the most amazing transmutations were performed, not by professional alchemists, but by foreign people who received small quantities of the philosopher's stone from an unknown hand. By comparing the dates, Schmieder strives to prove that three adepts, who successively passed on their secret, were the only authors of the transmutations which, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, astonished Germany. He points out that the most amazing transmutations were performed, not by professional alchemists, but by foreign people who received small quantities of the philosopher's stone from an unknown hand.

By comparing the dates, Schmieder strives to prove that three adepts, who successively passed on their secret, were the only authors of the transmutations which, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, astonished Germany. He points out that the most amazing transmutations were performed, not by professional alchemists, but by foreign people who received small quantities of the philosopher's stone from an unknown hand. By comparing the dates, Schmieder strives to prove that three adepts, who successively passed on their secret, were the only authors of the transmutations which, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, astonished Germany.

It would be childish to take this argument seriously and offer a formal refutation of it. Let us limit ourselves to a reflection that all our readers have made in advance. Imposture and fraud were the whole secret of the alchemical heroes. It was by artfully deceiving the confidence of the spectators that the followers managed to amaze the crowd. They took advantage of the ignorance or confidence of their audience to include, among the ingredients necessary for chemical operations, gold compounds which, destroyed by the action of fire, revealed gold. We will not recall the thousand maneuvers used by these distinguished artists to ensure the success of this fraud; listing them would be superfluous.

Today we know enough about the wonders of the conjuring art, and the tricks of Robert Houdin have revealed to us the nature of many mysteries which astonished our ancestors. The numerous facts of transmutation which have so agitated minds during the last two centuries belong, in our opinion, to this category. Admitting, moreover, these events as proven, it would remain to explain how the discovery of the philosopher's stone, if it was made once, could have fallen into oblivion; how, for a century, it has not reproduced; how finally the loss of this secret precisely coincided with the improvement of chemistry.

Admitting, moreover, these events as proven, it would remain to explain how the discovery of the philosopher's stone, if it was made once, could have fallen into oblivion; how, for a century, it has not reproduced; how finally the loss of this secret precisely coincided with the improvement of chemistry. Admitting, moreover, these events as proven, it would remain to explain how the discovery of the philosopher's stone, if it was made once, could have fallen into oblivion; how, for a century, it has not reproduced; how finally the loss of this secret precisely coincided with the improvement of chemistry.

CHAPTER IV.

CHEMICAL DISCOVERIES OF HERMETIC PHILOSOPHERS.

It is now appropriate to consider the work of the alchemists from another point of view. If hermetic science had had no other result than to turn minds into the same circle of aberrations and madness that we described above, it would not have merited attracting to itself the memories of the history and philosophy. But, despite the long errors whose sad influence it has suffered, it has won our recognition of incontestable rights. It is indeed impossible to ignore that alchemy has very directly contributed to the creation and progress of modern physical sciences. The alchemists were the first to put the experimental method into practice, that is to say observation and induction applied to scientific research: moreover,

This fact, that the alchemists were the first inventors of the experimental method, that is to say of the art of observing and inducing, with the aim of arriving at the solution of a scientific problem, is away from all doubts. From the eighth century, the Arab Geber put into practice the rules of the experimental school, of which Galileo and François Bacon were to promulgate only eight centuries later the practical code and the general precepts.

The works of Geber, the Sum of perfection and the Traite des fourneaux, contain the description of processes and operations in all conformity with the means we use today for chemical research; and Roger Bacon in the thirteenth century, applying the same order of ideas to the study physics, was led to discoveries astonishing for his time. We cannot therefore deny that the alchemists were the first to inaugurate the art of experiment.

They prepared the advent of positive sciences by basing the interpretation of phenomena on the examination of facts, and thus breaking openly with the metaphysical traditions which for so long had chained the development of minds.

But must we conclude from this that it is to the alchemists who deserve the merit of the scientific revolution accomplished in the 17th century, and whose general opinion relates the initiative and honor to Galileo, Bacon and Descartes? Should we strip these great men of the high recognition with which posterity surrounds their names, and declare, for example, with a writer who has quite recently taken up this question, that the starting point of the experimental method, and therefore the true creation of modern science, belongs to Albert the Great and his time, that is, say to the small number of men who devoted themselves, in the 13th century, to the study of natural sciences? We don't think so.

The research of the alchemists, directed towards a single goal, covered only a very narrow field. Their attempts, always isolated, remained without repercussion, without imitation outside, and gave birth to nothing which resembled, even remotely, a philosophical school. They carried out experiments, but the experimental method remained a mystery to them. We must therefore be on our guard here against the dangers of exaggeration.

We fall, according to us, in a serious error of criticism, when we claim to claim the entire honor of a philosophical idea for a few men who only glimpsed this idea thanks to some accident and without in any way foreseeing its consequences or its scope. Let us recognize the alchemists for being the first to use observation in the study of physical facts, but let us not try to present them as the creators of the philosophical method whose application was to, several centuries after them, transform the world.

If the alchemists' claims to the creation of the experimental method cannot be seriously supported, it is quite another matter when we consider the services they rendered us by preparing the elements which were necessary for the creation of chemistry. Here, nothing can become the object of doubt. Obliged, by the nature of their explorations, to subject to careful study all the molecular actions of simple or compound bodies, they were naturally led to bring together a considerable number of facts, and these observations, the fruit of fifteen hundred years of stubborn work , constitute the materials of the imposing building whose strength and harmony we admire today.

A rapid glance at the works of the most famous masters of the hermetic art will show us that it is to them that a large part of the discoveries which have served to constitute chemistry belong.

Geber, one of the oldest writers of the Hermetic school, was the first to present precise descriptions of our common metals: mercury, silver, lead, copper and iron: he left on the sulfur and arsenic information full of accuracy. In his treatise on Alchimiâ, we find observations of the greatest importance for chemistry. Geber teaches the preparation of etching and aqua regia; he points out the dissolving action that etching exerts on metals, and that of aqua regia on gold, silver and sulfur. In the same work, we find described, for the first time, several chemical compounds which, for centuries, have been in use in laboratories and pharmacies: the infernal stone, the corrosive sublimate, the red precipitate,
During the following century, the Arab Rhases discovered the preparation of brandy and recommended several pharmaceutical preparations whose excipient is alcohol. Among the new compounds that Rhasès speaks of, we can cite orpiment, realgar, borax, certain combinations of sulfur with iron and copper, certain salts of mercury formed indirectly, several compounds of arsenic, etc.

The materia medica of Aben-Guefith and the Hawi of Rhasès give a fair idea of ​​the considerable resources that medicine was already drawing from emerging chemistry. Rhase, who directed the scientific studies in Baghdad and Ray, had made every effort to direct the latter along the experimental path. “The secret art of chemistry,” he said, “is rather possible than impossible. Its mysteries “are only revealed through work and tenacity; but what a triumph when man can “lift a corner of the veil with which nature covers itself! »

We owe to Albert the Great the preparation of caustic potash with lime as we put it into practice in our laboratories. The same author accurately describes the cupellation of silver and gold, that is to say the purification of these two metals by means of lead. He was the first to establish the composition of cinnabar by forming it from scratch using sulfur and mercury. He reports the effect of heat on the physical properties of sulfur, and describes with accuracy the preparation of white lead and minium, those of copper acetate and lead acetate. Carefully exposing the properties of etching and its action on metals, he is the first to point out to us,

Roger Bacon, the greatest intelligence that England has possessed, studied nature more as a physicist than as a chemist, and we know what extraordinary discoveries he made in this part of science: The rectification of the error committed on the Julian calendar, relative to the solar year, — the physical analysis of the action of lenses and that of convex glasses, — the invention of glasses for the use of presbyopes, — that of achromatic lenses, — the theory , and possibly the first construction of the telescope, etc.

From the principles and laws that he had laid down or glimpsed, was to emerge, as he said himself, a set of unexpected facts. However, his investigations into the order of chemical phenomena have not remained without profit for us. Roger Bacon carefully studied the properties of saltpeter, and if, contrary to common opinion, he did not make the discovery of gunpowder, described in explicit terms by Marcus Grascus well before him, at least he contributed to perfect its preparation, by teaching how to purify saltpeter by means of dissolving it in water and crystallizing this salt. He also called attention to the chemical role of air in combustion.

Raymond Lully, whose genius was exercised in all branches of human knowledge, and who exposed in his book, Ars magna, a whole vast system of philosophy summarizing the encyclopedic principles of the science of his time, could not fail to leave to the chemists a useful heritage. He perfected and carefully described various compounds which are widely used in chemistry, such as the preparation of carbonate of potash using tartar and wood ashes, the rectification of spirits of wine, the preparation of essential oils, the cupellation of silver and the preparation of sweet mercury.

The works which bear the name of Isaac the Dutchman, so esteemed by Boyle and Kunckel, contain the description of a very large number of chemical processes, which, although directed according to alchemical views, have remained in the science as the sequel to Geber's work. A skillful manufacturer of enamels and artificial gemstones, Isaac the Dutch described without a second thought his ingenious processes for the preparation of these artificial products.

Everyone knows the remarkable discovery contained, relating to antimony, in the famous work of Basil Valentin, Currus triumphalis antimonii. The German alchemist had studied the properties of this metal so well, barely mentioned before him, that we find recorded in his work several facts which have been considered today as new discoveries. Basil Valentin describes, in the same treatise, several chemical preparations of great importance, such as the spirit of salt, or our hydrochloric acid, which he obtained as we do today, by means of sea salt and oil of vitriol (sulfuric acid). It provides the means of obtaining brandy by distilling wine and beer, and rectifying the product of the distillation on calcined tartar (carbonate of potash).

He even teaches how to remove copper from his pyrite (sulphide), first transforming it into copper vitriol (copper sulphate), by the action of moist air, and then plunging an iron blade into the solution. aqueous of this product.

This operation, which Basil Valentine was the first to indicate, was often put to good use later on by alchemists, who, not being able to understand the fact of the precipitation of metallic copper, imagined they saw in it a transmutation of iron into copper, or at least a beginning of transmutation that art could perfect.

The Treatise on Salts by the same author (Haliographia) contains the description of many interesting chemical facts about salt compounds. The preparation and explosive properties of fulminant gold are also described there. By calcining different parts of the body of man and animals, and treating the incinerated product with spirit of wine, Basil Valentin obtained several salts with an alkaline reaction. We can consider this alchemist as having first obtained sulfuric ether, a product he prepared by distilling a mixture of spirits of wine and oil of vitriol. In a word, among the known chemical preparations of his time, there are few on which Basil Valentine did not observe facts useful to record. Basile Valentin obtained several salts with an alkaline reaction.

We can consider this alchemist as having first obtained sulfuric ether, a product he prepared by distilling a mixture of spirits of wine and oil of vitriol. In a word, among the known chemical preparations of his time, there are few on which Basil Valentine did not observe facts useful to record. Basile Valentin obtained several salts with an alkaline reaction. We can consider this alchemist as having been the first to obtain sulfuric ether, a product which he prepared by distilling a mixture of spirits of wine and oil of vitriol. In a word, among the chemical preparations known to his time, there are few on which Basil Valentin did not observe facts useful to record.

Thus, before the Renaissance, from the crucible of alchemists had already emerged metallic antimony, bismuth, liver of sulfur, volatile alkali and the various mercurial compounds, that is to say the most active chemical compounds of materia medica. Alchemists knew how to volatilize mercury, purify and concentrate alcohol; they obtained sulfuric acid; they prepared aqua regia and different kinds of ethers; they purified fixed alkalis and carbonates; they had discovered the means of dyeing scarlet better than moderns do. Oxygen, the existence of which Priestley only demonstrated at the end of the last century, had been divined in the 15th century by a German alchemist, Eck de Sulzbach.

Paracelsus, who first made zinc known, gained an immense and deserved reputation by introducing into medicine the use of chemical compounds provided by metals.

For the old therapeutics of the Galenists, overloaded with complicated and often inert preparations, he substituted the use of simple medicines provided by chemical operations, and was the first to open the bold path of applications of chemistry to the physiology of man and to the pathology.

Van Helmont, whom it is permissible to place among the alchemists, not because he devoted himself to the practices of the great work, but because he did not conceal his belief in the possibility of metallic transmutations, is the author of the discovery of the existence of gases, a capital fact on which the theories of positive chemistry were later to be based.

Rudolphe Glauber, who, like Van Helmont, believed in the truth of alchemy without devoting himself to its practices, is one of the writers that ancient chemistry must cite with the most pride. His works are filled with descriptions remarkable for their practical details. There are few points of science on which the author of the discovery of admirable salt, the one who first laid down the precept not to reject as useless, as caput mortuum, the residue of chemical operations, has not brought the tribute to his experience and sagacity.

The last famous author who professed alchemy was Becher, who, by coordinating the scattered facts in science, by creating an attempt at a system or theory for the explanation of phenomena, prepared the scientific revolution accomplished in chemistry by the illustrious Georges Stahl.

We could have greatly extended this list of chemical discoveries emanating from alchemists, by recalling names less famous than the preceding ones in the splendor of art. We could have pointed out, for example: J.-B. Porta, discovering the way of reducing metallic oxides, describing the preparation of tin flowers (oxide), and the way of coloring silver, finally obtaining, after Eck from Sulzbach, the tree of Diana; — the alchemist Brandt, discovering phosphorus while looking for the philosopher's stone in a product of the human body; — Alexandre Sethon and Michel Sendivogius, focusing, while cultivating alchemy, on the study of chemical processes applicable to industry, perfecting the dyeing of fabrics and the making of mineral and vegetable colors; — finally Bötticher, locked up as a rebel alchemist in a fortress in Saxony, and discovering the secret of preparing porcelain. But the preceding enumeration is sufficient for the object we had in view.

It is therefore with the help of the numerous discoveries made by the alchemists that modern chemistry has been able to come into being. No doubt all these facts were not linked together by any common link, they did not compose a systematic whole, and consequently could not offer the characteristics of a science; but they provided the essential elements for the creation of a scientific system. It is thanks to the powerful influence exercised over minds, for fifteen hundred years, by the great idea of ​​metallic transmutation, that the preparatory work that had to be assembled to establish the monument on a large base could be accomplished. of modern chemistry.

Before being able to convince oneself that the philosopher's stone was definitely a chimera, it was necessary to review all the facts accessible to observation, and when, after fifteen centuries of work, there came a day when it was necessary to recognize the error into which we had fallen, it turned out that very day that the chemistry was done.

Chemists of our day, let us not pass too harsh a judgment on the Hermetic philosophers; let us not strip ourselves of all respect for their ancient heritage: insane or sublime, they are our true ancestors. If alchemy didn't find what it was looking for, it found what it wasn't looking for. If she failed in her long efforts to discover the philosopher's stone, she found chemistry, and this conquest is far more precious than the vain arcane so pursued by the passion of our fathers. Chemistry has transformed previously worthless gifts from God into inexhaustible sources of wealth; it has lightened the painful weight of the evils which weigh on humanity, perfected the material conditions of our existence and enlarged the limits of our moral activity; and if it does not contain the philosopher's stone of the ancient adepts, it constitutes, we can say, the philosopher's stone of nations.

CHAPTER V.

ADVERSARIES OF ALCHEMY, —— DECADE OF HERMETIC OPINIONS.

It remains for us to investigate in what way the theories relating to the transmutation of metals were gradually erased from science, how they finally disappeared in the face of the progress of public reason.

Although alchemy has constituted, for a very large number of centuries, a universally accepted scientific dogma, it has nevertheless, at all times, encountered serious adversaries on its path whose voice, for a long time useless, was eventually to be made listen. In the 14th century, at a time when it shone in all its splendor, some more rigorous minds tried to combat it. Among this number was a physicist from Ferrara, Peter the Good of Lombardy, who composed, in 1330, in the town of Pola, in the province of Istria, a chemical work: Margarita pretiosa (The precious pearl serving as an introduction to the chemistry).

Peter the Good used, to attack alchemy, the weapons of his time, that is to say arguments shaped by scholastic philosophy. Here, for example, therefore it is only an "imaginary" science. » And elsewhere: “Natural gold and silver are not the same as artificial gold and silver; therefore, etc. " But what detracts a little from the value of Master Peter the Good's arguments is that in the following chapter of the same work, the author, in order to show all his skill in the use of dialectic, focuses on prove, by inverse arguments, that alchemy is a positive science. therefore it is only an "imaginary" science.

And elsewhere: “Natural gold and silver are not the same as artificial gold and silver; therefore, etc. " But what detracts a little from the value of Master Peter the Good's arguments is that in the following chapter of the same work, the author, in order to show all his skill in the use of dialectic, focuses on to prove, by inverse arguments, that alchemy is a positive science.

Poetry also tried, at the same time, to bring help to the adversaries of alchemy.

The latest editions of the Roman de la Rose contain two alchemical writings, in verse, which are attributed to Jean de Meung, nicknamed Clopinel, who lived, as we know, at the court of Philippe le Bel as the king's poet. , and completed the Romance of the Rose, begun by Guillaume de Lorris. In the two writings we are talking about, Jean de Meung seeks to highlight the errors contained in the works of the alchemists of his time. It depicts Nature, which complains of being neglected by the alchemists, and urges them to take care of it as the only way to achieve good results:


Who only uses mechanical art.
This is the summary of the part of the poem entitled: Nature's Remonstrances to the Wandering Alchemist. Nature makes the alchemist hear some somewhat harsh truths, as we can see in the following passage:
I speak to you, stupid fanatic,
Who tells you and names in practice
Alchemist and good philosopher:
And you do not I know no fabric,
no theory, no science
of art, no knowledge of me.
You break stills, big beast,
And you burn the coal that bothers you,
You cook alumn, nitre, atramens,
Metal funds, burn the orpiments;
You make large and small furnaces,
Abusing various vessels.
But in fact I am notifying you
that I am ashamed of your madness.
What's more, great pain I suffer
For the stench of your sulfur.
By your fire so hot that it burns,
Do you want to fix quicksilver,
An eyelash that is volatile and vulgar,
And not an eyelash of which I make metal?
Poor man, you are very mistaken!
By this path you will do nothing,
If you do not walk others will not.
The alchemist recognizes his wrongs, and humbly asks Nature for forgiveness for his errors. This response from the alchemist is announced in these terms in the summary of the second part of the poem:
How the artist, ashamed and sorrowful,
Is before Nature on his knees,
Humbly asking for forgiveness
And thanking her greatly.
The repentant alchemist attributes his errors to the false precepts contained in the books of his
colleagues; he promises at the same time to take Nature as the only guide in his work.
How can I guide me
If you don't want to help me?
Then dictate that you must follow it,
I will; but by what book?
The ung says: Take this, take that;
The other says: No, leave it there;
Their words are diverse and oblique,
And parabolic sentences.
Indeed, through them I see clearly
that I will never know anything.

It would be superfluous to add that in the century in which these feeble complaints arose, they must have found little favour.

It was not until the 16th century that the adversaries of alchemy began to be listened to. They tried, by two different means, to oppose the diffusion of his doctrines and the sad consequences they brought with them. On the one hand, they endeavored to demonstrate, using scientific arguments, that it was impossible to carry out the transmutation of metals; on the other hand, they tried to expose the frauds employed by the followers to make believe in the existence of the philosopher's stone.

Thomas Eraste, whose treatise Exlicatio appeared in 1572, was one of the first to attempt to demonstrate the nullity of alchemical opinions. Rising forcefully against the doctrines of Paracelsus, he combatted, by powerful arguments, the theory of the alchemists relating to the composition of metals, and thus endeavored to prove that transmutation was an impossible work.

Herman Conringius, in his work entitled Hermetica, reproduced the arguments of Thomas Erastus, and was listened to a little better than his model.

Verner Rolfink, but especially the Jesuit scholar Kircher, showed themselves, in various works, as declared enemies of alchemy.

However, all these voices of reason and common sense found little echo in the minds of contemporaries prey to too violent a passion. Perhaps also the arguments invoked by the opponents of alchemy lacked sufficient qualities to effect such a difficult conversion. In order to give a faithful idea of ​​these discussions, we are going to detach from Becher's Underground Physics a curious page, in which this writer claims to refute an argument that the adversaries of alchemy had raised against the reality of this science. We will see by this example in what spirit and in what tone these disputes were carried out.

The following argument was opposed to Bêcher, against the reality of alchemy, which produced, as he assures us,

If alchemy, it had been said, was a really existing art, King Solomon would have known it, since he possessed, according to the Scriptures, the united wisdom of earth and heaven. Solomon, however, sent ships to Ophyr to search for gold, and he levied taxes on his subjects. Now, if Solomon had known the transmutation of metals, he would not have needed, to obtain gold, to have recourse to the preceding means. So Solomon had no knowledge of alchemy. So alchemy doesn't exist.

Here is how the author of Subterranean Physics proceeds to refute this formidable argument. He grants the major, that is to say this proposition that king Solomon possessed all the wisdom of the earth and the sky, although however it seems doubtful to him that the wisdom of this king embraced the specialty of all knowledge human beings, given, which can be denied, that he had no knowledge of printing, gunpowder or other inventions which came after him. But Becher formally rejects the minor, that is to say that King Solomon did not possess the philosopher's stone. Did Emperor Leopold I, who made gold, as everyone knows, therefore reduce the burdens which weighed on his subjects? Besides, Is the Ophyr expedition a well-established fact, at a time when the compass was not yet used?

Do we fully know the purpose of this expedition? Because of the mysteries with which it surrounds itself, it would rather be, according to Bêcher, a proof that Solomon possessed the secret of the philosopher's stone. Not wanting to manufacture gold in his own States, Solomon had this operation carried out in a neighboring country, to then bring the artificially produced gold back to Judea.

Indeed, what goods could King Solomon have offered in exchange for this gold, which is claimed to have been brought from Ophyr? Why did these expeditions not continue under Rehoboam, his successor? In summary, Bêcher remains convinced that Solomon knew the secret of hermetic science, but that his high wisdom prevented him from divulging it. Thus this argument, about which so much noise has been made against the real existence of the philosopher's stone, is ill-founded in every way.

This is how in the 17th century controversial points in chemistry were discussed.

It was always, as we see, the old form of the scholastic sophism: A rat is a syllable - but a syllable does not eat bacon - therefore a rat does not eat bacon. An argument which can only be retorted in the opposite way: A rat eats bacon - but a rat is a syllable - therefore a syllable eats bacon.

At the beginning of the eighteenth century, the adversaries of alchemy proceeded a little more seriously in their attacks. The scientific writings directed against its principles increased in number, without however still producing much impression. It is because the means of argument were always very indirect, and because the works intended to propagate them bore very singular titles. Mr. Kopp points out the following treatises as having been written at this time against the partisans of hermetic science. “J. Ettner, M. Kopp tells us, attacked alchemy in two works. The first appeared under the title: The Unveiled Chemist of Faithful Eckard, in which are related the wickedness and imposture of the adepts.

— Faithful Eckard's Medicinal Sage or Unveiled Charlatan (1710). Another enemy of the alchemists, J. Schmid, wrote in 1706: The Alchemist who passes a bad judgment on Moses, proving in an account based on the Scriptures that Moses, David, Solomon, Job and Elijah were not followers of the philosopher's stone, work by which Schmid believed to give the coup de grace to alchemy.

In 1702, appeared another work entitled: Fanfares of Elie the artist or German Purgatory of Alchemy, written by a child of Vizlipuzli, who wants to lay bare the honor of honorable people and the shame of those who are puffed up. of pride. The partisans of alchemy did not leave these writings unanswered; they replied with works adorned with titles as fantastic as the preceding ones.

Thus, in 1703, appeared: Liberation of the philosophers from the purgatory of your chemistry, that is to say criticism, in the name of the philosophers, of three sheets of vicious impressions recently published. And in 1705, in response to the same treatise by Schmid: Demolition and conquest of alchemical purgatory, announced by the order of the chemical pope, to the sound of a trumpet from Elijah and all the batteries erected on the island of insults.

But the best way to oppose the disastrous results brought about by the abuse of alchemical practices was to highlight the numerous frauds used by rogue adepts to abuse the credulity of the public. This is a task in which the adversaries of alchemy did not fail. In his Exlicatio, Thomas Eraste had already revealed the impostures of the alchemist charlatans, and made known the sleight of hand tricks with which they knew how to mix gold with the base metals put into experimentation. Otto Tackenius, in his Hippocrates chemicus, published in 1666, also revealed the tricks of these empiricists.

Nicolas Lemery, whose famous Course of Chemistry, published for the first time in 1675, remained the code of practicing chemists for so long, endeavored to put the same facts in their entirety. But what produced the deepest and most useful impression in this respect was a memoir presented in 1722 to the Academy of Sciences of Paris, by Geoffroy the elder, under this title: Deceptions concerning the philosopher's stone.

Geoffroy lists the numerous series of fraudulent means used by the adepts to carry out their so-called transmutations.

Revealing the frauds of the alchemists was, without a doubt, an excellent way of proving to everyone the inanity of their so-called science. This was, in fact, the most certain blow to a science which was beginning to discourage its defenders by the long series of disappointments it had inflicted on their hopes.

An event which produced much sensation in England, further helped to open the eyes of the public and demonstrate the reality of the accusations made against the followers. In 1783, the chemist James Priée, who had ten times successfully carried out public transmutations, subjected by the members of the Royal Society of London to more severe supervision, and pressed so as not to be able to deceive the assistants, poisoned himself before the very eyes of the people summoned to witness his prodigies. This fact produced a great deal of impression in England at that time, and we will be permitted to recall the principal details of it.
James Price, a wealthy and learned man, was a doctor at Guilford.

He occupied himself with chemistry, and his name has remained attached, in this science, to some interesting works. But he had the mistake of throwing himself into alchemical madness, and he imagined, in 1781, that he had succeeded in composing a powder suitable for the transmutation of mercury and silver into gold. This powder had such weak virtues, the profit that could be obtained from it was so mediocre, and the experiments so painful, that he hesitated for two years to make his supposed discovery public. He nevertheless decided to entrust her to a few friends. Father Amierson, a zealous naturalist and skilled chemist, the Russell brothers, advisors at Guilford, and Captain Grose, known from some writings on antiquity, were his first confidants.

However, as word of his operations spread outside, he became more emboldened, and he ended up acquiring a self-confidence that he had lacked until then. From the art of deceiving oneself to the art of deceiving others, there is only one step. In 1782, Price showed anyone who wanted to see them two red and white powders with which he transmuted base metals into silver or gold at will. He carried out several public transmutations, and in order to meet in a peremptory manner the objections which they had provoked, he instituted a series of experiments carried out at Guilford in his laboratory, in the presence of a large number of distinguished persons of the town. These experiments, which lasted two months, mainly consisted of acting on mercury or amalgams, by means of its two powders.

The operator transmuted this metal into silver or gold at will. He often used naphtha oil to add to the mercury, which became dull and thick by mixing with this liquid. Borax and charcoal also played a role as ingredients in operations. The experiments generally yielded only small amounts of the precious metal; but, in the ninth session, which took place on May 30, 1782, and in which the chemist was left to operate alone, we obtained, with sixty ounces of mercury, an ingot of silver weighing two and a half ounces. The quantity of philosopher's powder used was twelve grains. The silver ingot from this experiment was offered as a present to the King of England, George III. The operator transmuted this metal into silver or gold at will. He often used naphtha oil to add to the mercury, which became dull and thick by mixing with this liquid.

Borax and charcoal also played a role as ingredients in operations. The experiments generally yielded only small amounts of the precious metal; but, in the ninth session, which took place on May 30, 1782, and in which the chemist was left to operate alone, we obtained, with sixty ounces of mercury, an ingot of silver weighing two and a half ounces. The quantity of philosopher's powder used was twelve grains. The silver ingot from this experiment was offered as a present to the King of England, George III. The operator transmuted this metal into silver or gold at will. He often used naphtha oil to add to the mercury, which became dull and thick by mixing with this liquid.

Borax and charcoal also played a role as ingredients in operations. The experiments generally yielded only small amounts of the precious metal; but, in the ninth session, which took place on May 30, 1782, and in which the chemist was left to operate alone, we obtained, with sixty ounces of mercury, an ingot of silver weighing two and a half ounces. The quantity of philosopher's powder used was twelve grains. The silver ingot from this experiment was offered as a gift to the King of England, George III. which became dull and thick when mixed with this liquid.

Borax and charcoal also played a role as ingredients in operations. The experiments generally yielded only small amounts of the precious metal; but, in the ninth session, which took place on May 30, 1782, and in which the chemist was left to operate alone, we obtained, with sixty ounces of mercury, an ingot of silver weighing two and a half ounces. The quantity of philosopher's powder used was twelve grains. The silver ingot from this experiment was offered as a present to the King of England, George III. which became dull and thick when mixed with this liquid.

Borax and charcoal also played a role as ingredients in operations. The experiments generally yielded only small amounts of the precious metal; but, in the ninth session, which took place on May 30, 1782, and in which the chemist was left to operate alone, we obtained, with sixty ounces of mercury, an ingot of silver weighing two and a half ounces. The quantity of philosopher's powder used was twelve grains. The silver ingot from this experiment was offered as a present to the King of England, George III. in the ninth session, which took place on May 30, 1782, and in which the chemist was left to operate alone, we obtained, with sixty ounces of mercury, a silver ingot weighing two and a half ounces. The quantity of philosopher's powder used was twelve grains.

The silver ingot from this experiment was offered as a present to the King of England, George III. in the ninth sitting, which took place on May 30, 1782, and in which the chemist was left to operate alone, they obtained, with sixty ounces of mercury, an ingot of silver weighing two and a half ounces. The quantity of philosopher's powder used was twelve grains. The silver ingot from this experiment was offered as a present to the King of England, George III.

To give full publicity to these experiments, James Priée had the detailed reports printed in London under the title of Relation of some experiments on mercury, gold and silver. These reports bear the signatures of the main witnesses of the experiments: in addition to the names of Russell, Amierson and Grose, we note those of Lord Onslow, Lord King, Lord Palmerston, Knight Garrwaide, Sir Robert Parker, Sir Manning, Sir Polie , Doctor Spence, Captain Hausten, Lieutenants Grose and Hollamby, Sirs Philippe Clarke, Philippe Norton, Fulham, Robinson, Godschall, Gregory and Smith, names all unknown today.

However James Price was a Fellow of the Royal Society of Sciences in London. As alchemical beliefs had for some time lost their prestige, society wanted to know the bottom line. The chemist was therefore summoned to repeat his experiments before a commission chosen from among his members and composed of two chemists Kirwan and Higgins. James Price refused to repeat his Guilford experiences before them. He gave the pretext that his supply of philosopher's stone was exhausted, and that it took a long time to prepare another. He further alleged that, being a member of the Rose-Croix society, he could not divulge one of the secrets of his brotherhood. But all these defeats were judged at their true value, and his friends urged him in every way to obey the wishes of the Royal Society.

One of the most illustrious members of this Society, Sir Joseph Banks, especially insisted on making him understand to what extent his honor and that of the scientific company of which he was a member, were involved in this affair.
Thus pushed to the limit, James Priée decided to start his experiments again in order to prepare a new quantity of his transmutatory powder. In January 1783, he left for Guilford to carry out his research, announcing his return the following month.

Arriving in Guilford, he locked himself in his laboratory. Then, before doing anything, he began by preparing a certain quantity of cherry laurel water, a very violent poison. He then wrote his will, which began with these words: "Believing myself on the point of leaving for a safer world, I record here my last intentions..." It was only after

these sinister preliminaries that he put to work.

Six months passed without anyone hearing from the chemist Priée in London. At the end of this time, we learned of his return; but, as it was assured that he returned without having succeeded in his attempt, all his dearest friends abandoned him to the just contempt that his conduct deserved. It was therefore not without surprise that the Royal Society received from James Priée the request to go as a body, on a designated day in August 1783, to his laboratory. Only two or three people, among all the members of the Society, believed they could respond to their colleague's invitation. James Priée could not resist this last mark of contempt; he went into a small cabinet adjoining his laboratory and swallowed the entire contents of the bottle of cherry laurel water he had brought back from Guilford. When we recognized, at the alteration of his features, the signs of poison, they hastened to seek help for him; but it was too late, and the doctors who came running found him dead. Doctor Price left, by his will, a fortune of seventy thousand thalers, with an annuity of eight thousand thalers which he distributed to his friends.

Around the time when this event, whose outcome was so tragic, had just taken place in England, another adventure, which was, however, nothing but rather rejoicing in itself, was happening. on the other side of the Rhine, and precipitated the decadence of alchemical opinions, by turning against them the assured weapon of ridicule. A professor at a German university was publicly forced to admit that he had been, through his beliefs in alchemical ideas, the toy of a grotesque mystification.

Jean-Salomon Semler, learned theologian, was professor at the University of Halle. As a child, he had many times heard a friend of his father, the alchemist Taubenschusz, recount the wonders of the philosophers' stone, and his young imagination had been deeply struck by them. When, more advanced in age, he devoted himself to his theological studies and the work of his profession, he knew how to spare a few hours of leisure for chemical experiments. These experiments never succeeded in demonstrating to him the reality of the great fact pursued by hermetic science, but he was careful not to draw any conclusions from them against the certainty of his principles.

When, after his studies, he had a little more time, he began to consult the venerable folios of the Middle Ages. We do not know what the young theologian found in the meditation of the Hermetic writers; but, mediocre as his discoveries were, they were quite sufficient for a man who had had faith before science, and a faith so robust, that one is compelled to respect it, while regretting that it had not not been rewarded by any miracle. An incident, which occurred later in his life, could only add to the firmness of his beliefs.

Semler had recently been professor of theology in Halle, when a Jew from that city brought to him a foreigner returning from Africa who asked him for some help. This stranger mysteriously showed him a paper bearing a dozen lines in Hebrew character, but the words were Turkish or Arabic. He understood, he said, perfectly this writing; only there were three words whose meaning he could not grasp, which caused him inexpressible torment. He said, in fact, that there existed in Tripoli, Tunis and Fez, a large number of Jews who had received, as an inheritance from their ancestors, the secret of making gold. These Jews carefully guarded this secret, and only took advantage of it for their most urgent needs, so as not to arouse the attention of the barbarians. He himself had served for a long time with one of these Jews, and he often helped his master in his work of transmutation. The document which he presented to Semler contained an exact indication of the operations practiced by his Jew; unfortunately, the three words whose meaning he had forgotten made the rest useless to him.

With three words that a Jew taught me in Arabia,
I once cured the Infanta of the Congo,
Who, really, had another bout of vertigo.
The three words of Crispin de Regnard were undoubtedly the same ones that this adventurer took so much trouble with.

The good and gullible Semler made all his efforts to decipher this logograph. At the end of his own knowledge, he invoked that of the most renowned orientalists of the city and the university; but it was in vain. Also, when five days later, the Jew came to see him again, he could only inform him of this negative result. Our man was naturally very affected by this, because he saw himself, he said, forced to return to Africa to ask his former master the meaning of the three words. Now, in those days, as in ours, the trip to Tunis was not made for nothing.
Schmieder, who transmits to us this little episode from the alchemical career of the theologian from Halle, does not doubt that this Jew was only an imposter. He notes, in fact, that Don Domingo Badia, a Spanish scholar, who, at the end of the 18th century, traveled to the north of Africa, under the name of Ali-Bey, testifies that at that time the most common notions The most common knowledge of chemistry was almost entirely lost among the inhabitants of this country, Jewish and otherwise. Let us add that in 1830, after the capture of Algiers, the French were even better informed about the ignorance of the Arabs. It is therefore certain that this story of African alchemy was only an honest prospectus of begging presented by the deceitfulness of the Jew to the naivety of the theologian.

Semler nevertheless drew a completely opposite conclusion from this fact; far from receiving an attack, his robust faith in the truth of chemistry drew from it a new strength whose results were not long in coming.

In 1786, Baron Léopold de Hirschen had just announced to the world his discovery of a medicine which he called salt of life. Semler devoted himself with passion to the study of this new product. He successively published three memoirs on this subject. He claimed to know life salt better than the one who invented it. Adding to the assertions of Baron de Hirschen, he found in it not only a universal medicine, but also an agent of metallic transmutations. With this new product, neither coal, nor crucible, nor mercury were necessary to make gold; it sufficed to dissolve it in water and leave it to itself for a few days in glass vases, kept constantly at a somewhat high temperature.

In these conditions, Semler was a university professor; his assertions could therefore not be considered an opinion without consequence. The facts he announced became the pretext for serious discussions. Objections came at him from all sides, and sarcasm took over. In the position he occupied, he could not disdain them. Also, when one demanded of him the demonstration, by experiment, of the phenomenon which he announced, he showed himself very eager to furnish it; he proceeded with this demonstration with as much good faith as assurance.

The chemist Fr. Gren particularly stood out in this discussion; it was to him that Semler, in 1787, gave a glass vase containing a brown salt, asking him to be good enough to present it to the Berlin Academy. He assured that this salt, dissolved in water, would not take long to deposit gold; the fact was all the more certain as the same liquid had already supplied him with a notable quantity.

Gren only had to examine the salt to recognize that it contained, in the state of a simple mixture, a few leaves of gold. But, Semler having affirmed, for his part, that this metal was a product spontaneously formed within the liquid, it was decided that the difficulty would be submitted to the appreciation of Klaproth, professor in Berlin and one of the first alchemists of the Germany.

Klaproth subjected Semler's liquor to analysis, and recognized that it consisted of a mixture of Glauber's salt and sulphate of magnesia, all enveloped in a magma of urine and leaf gold. Wishing, however, to completely clarify the question, Klaproth asked the professor at Halle to send him new samples of the same product. Semler hastened to satisfy this desire. He sent two vases to Berlin, both containing a liquor “which contained the seed” of gold and which, with the aid of heat, would fertilize the salt. » This salt, dissolved in the liquid and kept hot for a few days, was to provide gold. But, at first examination, Klaproth had no difficulty recognizing that the brown salt was mixed with gold flakes,
The alchemist of Halle did not want to remain subject to this denial; he sent to his illustrious correspondent new sheets of gold produced by the salt of life.

The leaves of this aurum philo-sophicum aëreum were of large size, being no less than four to nine inches square. Semler asked the Berlin chemist to carry out the analysis of this gold in the middle of a public assembly and with all the splendor of wide publicity. We also understand his imperturbable assurance when we know that, of all the experiments he had carried out with his salt of life, none had ever failed and that the lucky experimenter had always obtained from his miraculous product the gold in the first title. So he wrote to Klaproth:

“My experiments are very advanced. Two of my vases bear gold; I remove it every five or six days, and I remove twelve to fifteen grains each time. Two or three more glasses are on the way; we can already see the leaves of gold peeking through from below. All this is, at present, quite expensive for me; because a grain of gold costs me two, sometimes three, and even four thalers; but this is probably because I don't yet know the way to operate very well. »

Following the wishes of Professor de Halle, Klaproth proceeded to analyze this gold in the presence of a brilliant assembly. Great personages, high functionaries of Berlin, and even the king's ministers, attended this meeting, impatient to know the result of the singular scientific discussion with which all Berlin was occupied. This result was stunning. Klaproth, with the first reagents that he caused to act on the precious metal of the theologian, recognized that these sheets of philosophical gold were quite simply chrysocale, that is to say false gold composed with a variety of brass.

The immense laughter that this declaration provoked in the assembly was soon shared by the entire public of Germany. The good Semler was thus forced to open his eyes, and, information taken, the mystification was explained as follows.

Semler worked on his experiments in a country house where he had as a servant a man who was very fond of him. It was the latter who was responsible for maintaining the temperature of the oven where the gold salt fructified. The worthy servant had noticed the ardor which the philosopher brought to his experiments and the joy which he felt whenever success came to crown them.

Wanting to contribute to the happiness of his master, this good soul had imagined slipping gold leaf into the vases put into the experiment. But our man was sometimes forced to absent himself, for, at the same time as he was the professor's servant, he was a soldier of the King of Prussia, and had to go from time to time to the Magdeburg review. In this case, he passed the instructions and the watchword to his wife, who took over from him in his innocent fraud. The lady ended, however, by finding that all this was a bit expensive, and, in the absence of her husband, she decided to replace the gold by the chrysocale, which cost less and produced the same appearance to the eye. . The philosophical gold sheets analyzed by Klaproth before the Berlin assembly were the work of this ingenuous person.

Semler, who had made a mistake in good faith, complied with good grace in front of the public. He left us, in an autobiography, the most candid confession of his alchemical errors. The inhabitants of Berlin did not show themselves merciless towards him; we understood how painful his position was, and we thought more of pitying him than mocking him. We even had the justice, very rare in such circumstances, to remember the services he had rendered in sciences more useful than those in which he had just had this long dream interrupted by such a heavy fall. This was a laudable effect of the native goodness of Germanic souls.

In France, where ridicule is a misfortune for which no compensation is admitted, the honest theologian would undoubtedly not have been so easily absolved.

However, this Homeric mystification did the most serious harm to alchemy in public opinion. The denouement of this long comedy in which a professor from a German university had played such a pitiful role, combined with the drama which had happened a few years before in London, completed the dissipation of the remains of confidence that many people continued to grant great works to artists; the bulk of the public, which constituted their natural support, was from that moment enlightened as to their lies.

Finally, the last fact which contributed to causing the abandonment of alchemical opinions was the salutary revolution brought about in the general system of chemistry by the genius of Lavoisier. As long as Stahl's theory had been maintained in science, alchemical opinions had been able to find in its principles a sort of justification, or, if you like, a pretext for duration.

Indeed, in the theory of phlogiston, metals were considered as compound bodies; the principles of science therefore did not prevent us from admitting that with the help of suitable actions we could modify the composition of metals, so as to transform them into one another. Thus in 1784 Guyton de Morveau, who still remained faithful to Stahl's theory, found in it sufficient grounds for proclaiming the possibility of changing silver into gold. It is as a result of the same principle that Bergman, in his History of Chemistry, did not dare to doubt the reality of hermetic science, and, recalling the transmutation carried out in 1667 by Helvetius, and the events of the same kind attributed to Van Helmont and to Berigard of Pisa, finally alluding to the projections made in 1648 by the Emperor of Germany, Ferdinand III, and in 1658, by the Elector of Mainz, added:

"We cannot revoke these facts in doubt, without denying any credit to the story. But when Lavoisier had overturned the system of ideas which had hitherto presided over the interpretation of chemical facts, the scientific foundation on which alchemy had been able to continue to establish its hypothesis suddenly failed him. In Lavoisier's theory, which in a few years became the universal theory, metals were considered as simple bodies, that is to say as indecomposable elements; hence the impossibility proclaimed by the new science of varying the nature of metals at will.

It is therefore to the definitive creation of chemistry that we must attribute the considerable honor of having made the last vestiges of alchemical opinions disappear. From that moment on, serious scientists broke with any idea of ​​this kind, and alchemy was decidedly erased from the domain of science. which became in a few years the universal theory, metals were considered as simple bodies, that is to say as indecomposable elements; hence the impossibility proclaimed by the new science of varying the nature of metals at will. It is therefore to the definitive creation of chemistry that we must attribute the considerable honor of having made the last vestiges of alchemical opinions disappear.

From that moment on, serious scientists broke with any idea of ​​this kind, and alchemy was decidedly erased from the domain of science. which became in a few years the universal theory, metals were considered as simple bodies, that is to say as indecomposable elements; hence the impossibility proclaimed by the new science of varying the nature of metals at will. It is therefore to the definitive creation of chemistry that we must attribute the considerable honor of having made the last vestiges of alchemical opinions disappear.

From that moment on, serious scientists broke with any idea of ​​this kind, and alchemy was decidedly erased from the domain of science. It is therefore to the definitive creation of chemistry that we must attribute the considerable honor of having made the last vestiges of alchemical opinions disappear.

From that moment on, serious scientists broke with any idea of ​​this kind, and alchemy was decidedly erased from the domain of science. It is therefore to the definitive creation of chemistry that we must attribute the considerable honor of having made the last vestiges of alchemical opinions disappear. From that moment on, serious scientists broke with any idea of ​​this kind, and alchemy was decidedly erased from the domain of science.

It should not be believed, however, that alchemical practices have entirely ceased since the end of the last century. Despite the principles of the new chemistry which condemned their attempts, a certain number of people continued to devote themselves to practical research into the transmutation of metals until our time. However, these works were accomplished in the shadows and remained almost unknown outside. The institution and progress of an alchemical society which existed in Westphalia at the beginning of our century, and which only ended around the year 1819, provide some curious information in support of this fact.

In 1796, a newspaper then widely used in Germany, the Reichsanzeiger, announced that a large hermetic association had just been formed; alchemy enthusiasts were invited to contact her without delay and communicate the results of their work. We wanted to apply to the progress of hermetic science the principle of association, the advantages of which we were beginning to understand in all branches of social activity. The call of the Germanic leaf was promptly heard.

Fifteen days after its announcement, letters arrived from all sides of Germany from individuals who belonged to the most diverse professions. Among the signatories of these epistles were doctors and shoemakers, lawyers and tailors, intimate advisors and locksmiths, officers and village schoolmasters, princes and barbers. Whatever their quality and the rank they occupied in the world, the content of their epistles was the same. Everyone hastened to declare that they had discovered nothing; everyone prayed insistently that someone would communicate to them, by the return of the courier, a safe method for preparing the philosopher's stone, with a promise, under oath, not to divulge this useful secret. Everyone hastened to declare that they had discovered nothing; everyone prayed insistently that someone would communicate to them, by the return of the courier, a safe method for preparing the philosopher's stone, with a promise, under oath, not to divulge this useful secret. Everyone hastened to declare that they had discovered nothing; everyone prayed insistently that someone would communicate to them, by the return of the courier, a safe method for preparing the philosopher's stone, with a promise, under oath, not to divulge this useful secret.

The Hermetic Society quickly acquired importance; she maintained an active correspondence and distributed many diplomas. Only she granted only the corresponding membership title, and this is why.

The Hermetic Society actually consisted of only two members, Doctors Korrüm and Baehrens. Both convinced of the truth of alchemy, they nevertheless believed that the discovery of the philosopher's stone could only be made through a large number of joint researches. In order to bring together the isolated works of their colleagues into a single body, they had imagined making people believe in Germany in the existence of a vast association of alchemists. They had the art of maintaining this opinion for a long time, and among their numerous affiliates, no one ever suspected the truth.

The Westphalian Society encouraged the formation of similar academies in several towns in Germany. The most important are those of Kœnigsberg and Carlsrühe.

Public courses in alchemy were instituted in the latter city.

The teaching of the Alchemical Society of Carlsrühe was based on the principles of a very singular book by a certain Eckartshausen, of which we will be allowed to say a word. This writing, entitled:

The Cloud which hovers above the sanctuary belongs to the worst side of the alchemical school, that is to say to the doctrines which invoked above all occult qualities in the interpretation of material phenomena. In terms of ridiculousness and extravagance, it goes beyond anything that is possible to imagine. It deals with the chemical composition of sins. Basil Valentine, in one of the most bizarre fits of his alchemical mysticism, had generally considered the sins of Man as the residue of the sublimation of his celestial parts. Eckartshausen goes further, he determines the composition of each of our sins. One would never guess what is the matter which produces in us the dispositions to evil. Our author assures us that it is gluten. According to him,

“In our blood, he says, is hidden a tenacious, elastic material, gluten, which has more affinity for animality than for the spirit. This gluten is the matter of sin. It can be modified by sensual desires, and, according to the modification it undergoes, different dispositions for sin are born in man. In its greatest state of expansion, this gluten produces pride in us; in its state of attraction, avarice and selfishness; in his state of repulsion, rage and anger; in its spinning state, lightness and lust; in his state of eccentricity, gluttony and drunkenness. " etc.

This bizarre book, which gloriously closes the list of alchemical productions in our century, was taken as the basis of teaching in the public courses of Carlsrühe. Alchemy continued to be professed in this city until 1811, under the direction of a certain Baron de Sthernhayn, a fiery adept who said he was more proud of his title of corresponding member of the Society of Westphalia than of the parchments of his nobility.

To confirm the general belief in the existence of the great Hermetic Society, Kortüm and Baehrens undertook the publication of an alchemical journal. The first volume of this collection appeared in 1802. It contains the dissertations whose titles are as follows:

— Epistle of Josua Jobs to the Pilgrims of the Valley of Jehoshaphat — System of Hermetic Art. It was through these singular maneuvers that the Society of Westphalia continued to prosper and to be enriched with new members, always correspondents. His work was continued until the year 1819; Around this time, the alchemists, disabused of their hopes, ceased all contact with her.

It would not be difficult to bring down to our day the too long series of the last partisans of the great work. In a long article inserted in the Journal des Savants, about the publication of a work of no value and very little worthy of so much attention, Mr. Chevreul claims to have known several people who were well convinced of the truth of alchemy, among which he cites “generals, doctors, magistrates and ecclesiastics. » Let us add that in 1832, a brochure appeared entitled: Hermes unveiled, in which the author, MC..., claims to have finally succeeded, after thirty-seven years of work, in carrying out a transmutation into gold. The operation took place on Maundy Thursday 1831.

Let us remain, dear reader, with the sweet impression of this blessed event.

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We have summarized, in this first part, the doctrines of hermetic science, the considerations and the facts that the adepts presented in support of their views. When we embrace all of these ideas, we cannot help but feel bitter regret. Alchemy has long stopped the progress of the human mind in the knowledge of natural truths. For this reason she incurred just disapproval. However, whoever would like to instruct his impartial trial would have to find out whether most of his errors were not the consequence of the bad philosophy of the time.

The definitive institution of alchemy, the heyday of the practices of the art, correspond to the second half of the historical period of the Middle Ages, that is to say at the time when restored Platonism and new Aristotelianism dominated exclusively in the schools. The dynamic properties attributed to the philosopher's stone, the bizarre means employed by the adepts in the search for this marvelous agent, must appear to us today only as the natural continuation of the philosophy of that time, just as the speculations of the Mystical alchemy are the consequence of the exaggeration of religious passions of the same time.

It is not only in alchemy that we notice these strange aberrations. Until the 16th century, doctors attributed a direct action to the stars on the organs of the human body; the sun influenced the heart, the moon acted on the brain, etc. Who does not know the unique therapeutics of the Middle Ages, based on the external resemblances of medicines and diseased organs, or on what we called with Oswald Croll and Cardan, the external signatures of things?

Physics and natural history were filled with analogous chimeras. If almost all sciences in the Middle Ages participated in these reveries, we must obviously recognize the common influence of the philosophy of that time. However, alchemy redeems a part, however small, of its long errors, by two eminent services that it has rendered to natural philosophy. It had its undeniable share of usefulness, both in its origin and in its result. It was the first to manifest the awakening of scientific thought in Europe. The alchemists were the first to put into practice the great art of arriving at the discovery of a physical truth through a system of observations and reasoned inductions.

Finally, their work gave birth to modern chemistry and all the sciences related to it. It is therefore right to trace back to them some of the benefits achieved by the sciences in modern society, to reserve for them a certain share of glory in these precious conquests of humanity.

Such are the considerations which can, according to us, partly raise the alchemical works from contempt, or, if you will, from the oblivion into which they have fallen today. Such is also our excuse for having tried to reawaken here those old forgotten beliefs which belong, in the end, only to the immense domain of our errors. We have always attached importance to marking the path followed by the ideas which brought the great truths to the world. Having reached the desired goal, we like to measure the pitfalls of the career we have successfully overcome. It is this charm that Lucretius speaks of:

Suave mari magno turbantibus œquora ventis, E terra magnum alterius spectare laborem.
The gentle winds of the great sea disturb, From the earth to watch the great labor of another.

It is the secret and involuntary pleasure of the spectator who, from the quiet shore, contemplates the struggles of the ship in distress against the rising waves. But the poet has not said everything. There is a purer and more intense pleasure at the same time: it is to point out the pitfalls to future navigators.

ALCHEMY IN MEDIEVAL AND RENAISSANCE SOCIETY.

FIRST CHAPTER.

IMPORTANCE OF ALCHEMY DURING THE LAST THREE CENTURIES. — PROTECTORS AND ADVERSARIES OF THIS SCIENCE, —— ALCHEMY AND THE SOVEREIGNS. —— HERMETIC COINS.

IT was not until the 14th century that alchemy began to gain importance in Europe. The writings of Albert the Great and Raymond Lulle, composed in the 13th century, had introduced the first principles of this science to the learned world; During the following century, the riches of Nicolas Flamel, attributed by the vulgar to a hermetic origin, had spread the same beliefs in the minds of the people. Finally, in the 16th century, the numerous disciples of Paracelsus popularized the same ideas throughout the West through their speeches and writings.

A certain number of followers, who boasted of having carried out the work of transmutation for their benefit, and who bore witness to it for all to see by apparently incontrovertible facts, then traveled the great States of Europe, exciting a universal emotion in their path. It is therefore to the 16th century that we must look back, if we want to get an exact idea of ​​the astonishing influence that alchemical ideas exerted on the minds of men. At that time, in fact, the passion for hermetic work had penetrated all ranks. From the peasant to the ruler, everyone believed in the truth of alchemy.

The desire for wealth, the contagion of example, excited everywhere the desire to devote oneself to its practices. In the palace as in the cottage, in the home of the humble artisan as in the house of the rich bourgeois, we saw the operation of devices whereby the incubation of the philosophical egg was maintained for whole years. The very gates of the monasteries posed no obstacle to this invasion; because, according to a modern writer, “there was no convent in which we did not find some furnace dedicated to the production of gold.

Physicians, because of their more extensive knowledge, felt a special predilection for alchemy, and their ideas, in this respect, are sufficiently characterized by the wish expressed in the sixteenth century by the learned doctor Joachim Tancke to create in all universities a chair of alchemy, and to have Geber and Raymond Lulle comment publicly alongside Hippocrates and Galen.

This extraordinary diffusion of the processes of their science greatly displeased the alchemists of profession, and several of them exhaled in prose and verse their complaints on this subject. It is thus that Franz Gassmann says in his Examination alchemisticum:

"Almost everyone wants to be called an alchemist, A gross idiot, the boy and the old man, The barber, the old woman, a facetious adviser, The shorn monk, the priest and the soldier. »

What had contributed to increasing the number of alchemists was that the adepts seized the slightest pretext to enlist under their banner all the remarkable figures of their time. Thus found themselves falsely ranked among the followers of the hermetic art, a large number of eminent men who owe this dangerous honor only to the fame of their name or the holiness of their life.

Vincent de Beauvais was for this reason alone declared an alchemist. Pope John XXII, to whom a work on alchemy, Ars transmutatoria, published in 1557, was attributed, was similarly convinced of having transformed his palace in Avignon into an immense laboratory devoted to the manufacture of gold. Saint John the Evangelist was proclaimed possessor of the philosopher's stone, because there existed in the ancient liturgy a hymn composed by Adam de Saint Victor in honor of this saint, where we found a metaphor capable of an alchemical interpretation.

This fragment, very short in fact, is as follows:
Inexhaustum fert thesaurum
Qui de virgis fecit aurum,
Gemmas de lapidibus.
It carries an inexhaustible treasure
He who made gold out of rods
Gemstones.

It is as a result of the same principle that King Charles VI, despite his aversion to gold miners, was placed in their category; one of the hermetic works published in the Cosmopolite collection was attributed to him, which has the title: Œuvre royale de Charles VI, roi de France, Nicolas Flamel and Jacques Cœur were ranked among the happy followers, because, in these centuries of credulity and ignorance, we could only explain great riches quickly acquired by the possession of the philosopher's stone.

When contemporary names were lacking, its most famous characters were borrowed from antiquity to shelter, under their imposing aegis, the most absurd daydreams. Thus were the names of Hermes, Hiram, and Solomon invoked among the kings; of Pythagoras, Zoroaster and Democritus, among the philosophers; of Galen and Hippocrates, among the physicians of antiquity.

Various editions of books issued from the pen of a few ignorant monks were published in the sixteenth century, and decorated with the names borrowed from Democritus, Hippocrates, and Galen. To explain the late discovery of these documents, recourse was had to ridiculous tales. This is how Paracelsus assures us that he was shown at Braunau "a book six palms long, three wide and one and a half thick, “containing the true alchemical commentaries of Galen and Avicenna.

If the same author is to be believed, these original manuscripts of Galen and Avicenna, written on pear bark and on wax tablets, had been collected and preserved in the family of a bourgeois of Hamburg. It was by multiplying lies of this kind that one had ended up lending to hermetic science the prestige of the highest antiquity, and thus added to the other elements of its power.
This power was, moreover, immense.

To put beyond doubt the universal empire that alchemy exercised over minds during the period that concerns us, it is enough to consult jurisprudence, this faithful mirror of the customs and prejudices of extinct societies. In the Middle Ages and during the Renaissance, German jurisprudence had recognized and consecrated the truth of the principles of alchemy. In judicial practice, the fact of the transmutation of metals was accepted as incontestable, and the discussion of secondary facts started from this fundamental principle.

From the 14th to the 16th century, the courts decided many times in the affirmative the question of whether gold manufactured by alchemy could be assimilated in value to ordinary gold, when the touchstone indicated no difference between these two metals. The only difficulty which has long embarrassed jurisconsults was to know whether alchemical gold also possessed the secret virtues of natural gold.

M. Kopp reports, in his History of Chemistry, that in 1668, the master tailor Christophe Kirchof de Lauban received from the chancellery of Bresiau a parchment covered with a silver stamp which legitimized him as an alchemist and which rewarded him for to have “not only revealed the secret of the universal spirit, but also to have discovered it with the help of God and above all by the help of long laboratory work. »

The same writer adds that in 1680, an Austrian jurisconsult, G.-F. de Rain, pronounced a judgment to declare that all those who doubted the existence of the philosopher's stone would be guilty of the crime of lèse-majesté, since several emperors of Germany had been zealous alchemists. The King of England Henry VI, the most suspicious of sovereigns, had placed such confidence in the skill of the alchemists that he granted permission to several of them to make gold. Such were Fauceby, Kirkeby and Ragny, who obtained from the king, in 1440, authorization to manufacture gold and the elixir of long life in his States. In 1444, Henry VI granted the same privileges to John Cobler, Thomas Trafford and Thomas Asheton; in 1446 and 1449, to Robert Bolton; and in 1452, to John Metsie; the latter had the privilege of working on all metals, “because,” it was said in the deed of concession, “they found the means of changing all metals indiscriminately into gold. »

Kirkeby and Ragny, who obtained authorization from the king in 1440 to manufacture gold and the elixir of long life in his States. In 1444, Henry VI granted the same privileges to John Cobler, Thomas Trafford and Thomas Asheton; in 1446 and 1449, to Robert Bolton; and in 1452, to John Metsie; the latter had the privilege of working on all metals, "because," it was said in the deed of concession, they had found "the means of changing all metals into gold without distinction." » Kirkeby and Ragny, who obtained authorization from the king in 1440 to manufacture gold and the elixir of long life in his States. In 1444, Henry VI granted the same privileges to John Cobler, Thomas Trafford and Thomas Asheton; in 1446 and 1449, to Robert Bolton; and in 1452, to John Metsie; the latter had the privilege of working on all metals, “because,” it was said in the deed of concession, “they found the means of changing all metals indiscriminately into gold. » to John Metsie; the latter had the privilege of working on all metals, "because," it was said in the deed of concession, they had found "the means of changing all metals into gold without distinction." » to John Metsie; the latter had the privilege of working on all metals, “because,” it was said in the deed of concession, “they found the means of changing all metals indiscriminately into gold. »

Alchemy, however, had not reached this degree of authority and credit without having encountered some obstacles on its way. A number of rulers had tried to oppose a barrier to its overflows, but their power had broken against the energy of the universal current. The first edict issued against alchemy, the one which could have produced the most effective action, because its empire extended to all Christendom, emanated from the pontifical court. In 1317, Pope John XXII fulminated against alchemy with the bull:

Spondent pariter, which condemned alchemists to fines, declared infamous the laity who devoted themselves to the research of this art, and deprived of all dignity the ecclesiastics convinced of the same case (1).

The effect of this bubble was not long-lasting. In the years following its promulgation, some prosecutions were directed, in Germany, against ecclesiastics who had occupied themselves with alchemy; but soon the pontifical decree lost all its credibility, and alchemy was once again openly and with impunity professed.
In 1380, Charles V, King of France, had by law proscribed alchemical research throughout his kingdom, and prohibited, even among individuals, the possession of instruments and furnaces suitable for chemical operations.

Officers were appointed to search for violators of this order, which had been issued partly on the general reproach addressed to alchemists, of seeking to alter coins. An unfortunate chemist, named Jean Barillon, who was found to be in possession of chemical apparatus and furnaces, was thrown into prison and condemned by a sentence of August 3, 1380: all the steps and all the zeal of his friends barely sufficed to save his days. However, after the death of Charles V, this law fell into disuse.

Henry IV, King of England, driven by the deepest aversion to alchemy, flattered himself with destroying it. In 1404, he issued an edict against the exercise of this art. This act of extreme brevity was thus conceived: "No one will henceforth dare, under penalty of being treated and punished as a felon, to multiply gold and silver or to use deception to succeed in this attempt . » But this defense was no better listened to in England than was, in 1418, in Italy, the edict directed against the alchemists by the council of Venice.

What especially contributed to preventing the effect of the ordinances issued by the sovereigns against the instigators of alchemy was that the successors and heirs of these princes were the first to give the signal to contravene the decrees of their predecessors, by occupying themselves with the greatest ardor in alchemical work and sometimes constituting themselves the declared protectors of the hermetic art. This is because, during the 16th century, Europe was wonderfully prepared to welcome gold miners. In Germany, all the royal coffers were empty; England and France, ruined by their long wars, found themselves, financially speaking, in the saddest state. With the unanimous beliefs which then reigned on the possibility, for science,

Among the sovereigns who granted alchemy special protection, we must mention in the first rank the Emperor Rudolf II, who in 1576 ascended the throne of Germany.
Although born in Vienna, Rodolphe had been raised in Spain at the court of Philip II, and it was there that he acquired his taste for occult sciences. Having become emperor, he established his residence in Prague. In the first years of his reign, he devoted himself entirely to the care of government, devoting only his leisure moments to his favorite studies, astrology and alchemy.

But the management of affairs having become more difficult, and his embarrassments having increased as a result of the war he had to wage against the Turks, he found it easier to completely abandon the direction of the State, and entrusting to his ministers the government of the empire, he locked himself in the castle of Prague to occupy himself until the end of his days only with the philosopher's stone.

Rodolphe had had Tycho-Brahé and Kepler as his masters in astronomy; Doctor Dee had opened to him the secret world of spirits, and he had received the first lessons in alchemy from his ordinary doctors, Thaddœùs de Hayec, and later Michel Mayer and Martin Ruhland. Inside Prague Castle, all the staff were spagyric. The prince's valets were themselves attached to his laboratory work; among the latter the names of Hans Marquard, nicknamed Dürbach, Jean Frank and Martin Rutzke have been preserved. An even nobler job was reserved for one of the prince's valets, the Italian Mordecai of Delia. Court poet, he was responsible for celebrating the exploits of his colleagues in German rhymes and translating many alchemical writings into verse; court artists illuminated his manuscripts.

All alchemists, whatever their nation and rank, were sure to be well received at the court of Emperor Rudolf. After having recognized, by a preliminary examination, that they possessed the required knowledge, the physician Thaddϟs introduced them to the prince, who never failed to reward them with dignity when they had been able to make him witness to an interesting experiment. Often the emperor even called to him the artists whose fame brought him to his attention.

Almost everyone responded to this call. Some, however, remained deaf. There was, for example, a Franche-Comté artist to whom the emperor had sent a trusted man to take him to Prague. The Franc-Comtois resisted all the promises of the envoy, limiting himself to this response full of meaning: “If I am an adept, I have no need of the emperor; if I am not, the emperor has no need of me. » In this case, Rudolph II, not considering himself defeated, entered into correspondence with the recalcitrant artist.

The alchemists were not ungrateful to their crowned protector. They awarded him the name of Hermes of Germany, and everywhere praised his merit. Rodolphe was included by writers among the happy adepts in possession of the philosopher's stone. This fact, moreover, seemed beyond doubt when, after the Emperor's death in 1612, eighty-four quintals of gold and sixty quintals of silver were found in his laboratory, cast in small masses in the shape of brick. Next to this treasure was a certain quantity of gray powder. No one doubted that this secret product constituted the remains of the emperor's philosopher's stone. But the event proved that this belief was ill-founded. The valet Rutzke, having hastened to steal this treasure, transmitted it by inheritance to his family. However, when they wanted to subject it to experiment, the emperor's philosopher's stone was found to have no virtue.

Among the Hermetic artists whom Rodolphe II most particularly honored with his favour, we can cite Kelley, who was raised by him to the rank of Marquis of Bohemia and showered with favours; Sebaldschenser, who, after having worked with the Elector Augustus of Saxony and with Chretien, his successor, attached himself, in 1591, to the court of Rodolphe, who ennobled him and appointed him director of the mines of Joachimistadt, where he died in 1601; finally, the Pole Sendivogius, whose story we will have to tell later.

One of the German princes who, at the same time, most protected alchemy, was the Elector Augustus of Saxony. He worked with his own hands on alchemical operations in a laboratory that he owned in Dresden, and which the people called the Golden House. This prince boasted, in some letters which have come down to us, of having possessed the philosopher's stone. His wife, Anne of Denmark, shared his predilections for the work of great works, and she maintained, in her Hanaberg castle, a laboratory, which Kunckel praises to us as the most beautiful and largest that ever existed. However, the elector of Saxony did not open his door, following the example of the Emperor Rudolph, to all the alchemists of the universe. He had in his pay several artists attached to his work. Beuther and Schweitzer were the most notable. His successor, Elector Christian of Saxony, also occupied himself with alchemy.

At the end of the Thirty Years' War, Germany's finances were in a dire state; Also, alchemists were still, at this time, sought after by German sovereigns and princes, who hoped with their help to repair the gaps in the public treasury. The Emperor of Germany, Ferdinand III, who, as we will see later, had the good fortune to himself carry out the transmutation of mercury into gold with the philosopher's stone given to him by Richstausen, greatly honored the alchemists.

Thus acted one of his successors, Emperor Leopold I, who showered favors on the Augustinian monk Venzel Zeyier, and named him Marquis of Reinersberg (of the purified mountain), for having transformed before his eyes the tin into gold. It is true, some time later, it was recognized that that this operation had only been a fraud on the part of the adept; but it was too late, the marquisate was his. We could also cite in the same way the King of Prussia, Frederick I, and his successor Frederick II. Although, towards the end of his reign, Frederick the Great made a lot of fun of alchemists, he had shown them, in the first years, a certain tenderness, as proven by the story of Madame de Pfuel, who, in 1751 , came to settle with his two daughters in Potsdam, and there engaged, under the protection and at the expense of the king, in research on the artificial preparation of gold.

It was not only with the princes of Germany that alchemy found solid support. One can cite several other sovereigns who, in Europe, founded serious hopes on alchemical works to repair the disasters of their finances. Such was, for example, Alphonse X, king of Castile, Alphonse the scholar, who died in 1284, who applied himself to research in alchemy, and whose followers were among their writers, for the treatise he composed under the title of Key to Wisdom.
Queen Elisabeth of England devoted herself to the search for the philosopher's stone.

In France, a certain Jean des Galans, sieur de Pezerolles, boasted of making gold. Seduced by this assurance, Charles IX made the Sieur de Pezerolles pay one hundred and twenty thousand livres, to be put in possession of his process. The adept was placed in a laboratory, and he began his operations. But after eight days he fled with the money. Pursued by the order of Charles IX, he was arrested and hanged.

There is, in the collection of manuscripts of the imperial library of Paris, a copy of the treaty that the young king and his brother, the Duke of Anjou, signed with Jean des Galans before having him begin his operations. This act stipulates very considerable advantages in favor of the Sieur de Pe2erolles: if he succeeds in his work, he is granted an annual, perpetual annuity of one hundred thousand tourney livres, and a sum of one hundred thousand gold crowns in cash. While waiting for the time which he has fixed as the end of his operations, we must deliver to him each month the sum of twelve hundred crowns.

Charles IX and his brother, the Duke of Anjou, were very young then; although invested with royal authority, Charles IX was only sixteen years old. It is therefore probable that this act, quite irregular in its form and arrangements, was the secret work of the young king and his brother, who did not want to take either witnesses or confidants to settle this important matter. But if the charlatan took advantage of the young king's inexperience and credulity, the latter repaid him well, since he had him hanged.

Guy de Crusembourg, prisoner in the Bastille, had received, in 1616, from Marie de Medici, twenty thousand crowns to work, on behalf of the queen, on the philosopher's stone. But, after three months, he managed to escape from the Bastille, and despite all the research that was ordered, Marie de Medici was never able to receive the slightest news from her alchemist or her twenty thousand crowns.

These misadventures did not prevent other princes from retaining a great deal of sympathy for the alchemists. In 1646, the king of Denmark, Chrétien IV, named his private alchemist a certain Gaspard Harbach, and, in 1648, his successor Frederick III had granted the adventurer Borri this singular confidence, the results of which we have already reported.

To pursue with such ardor the trade of artists of great work, the sovereigns of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance must have had very serious motives; incontestable facts must have proved to them the usefulness of such assistance.

History teaches us, in fact, that the relations of alchemists with the princes of Europe were not always limited to bringing misadventures and disappointments of the kind that we have reported above. The rosé nobles made by Raymond Lulle, on behalf of the King of England, Edward HT, the ducats made in 1722 for Charles XII, King of Sweden, by the alchemist Paykull, the commemorative medals struck by the Emperor Ferdinand III, etc., sufficiently show us that the intervention of the alchemists with the sovereigns was not always unsuccessful. But what interpretation should we give to these seemingly inexplicable facts? This is what the reader will understand if we recall, to take a rather striking example, what happened to the appeal made in 1436 to alchemists by the King of England, Henry VI, to fill the gaps in his treasury. .

Following the embarrassments brought to his finances by the victories of Charles VII and his lieutenants, Henry VI had thought of invoking the help of the gold miners. This monarch did not personally grant great credit to alchemy;
but the memory of the services that Raymond Lulle had rendered to one of his ancestors had decided him to try this means. In 1436, he published an edict addressed to priests, nobles and doctors, to encourage them to take up alchemy, in order to help the needs of the kingdom. The king particularly invoked the help of the ecclesiastics; he hoped, he said, that having the faculty of transforming bread and wine into the body and blood of Jesus Christ, it would be easy for them to change base metals into gold (2). Now, here are the consequences that the publication of the edict of Henry VI brought.

The ecclesiastics, finding with reason that the majesty of religion was offended by the impious comparison which the king had dared to draw between the results of the hermetic work and the mysteries of Christianity, refused to comply with his desire. However, the laity did not fail to satisfy the wish of the king, who, shortly afterwards, received from all hands the gifts he had requested. It was then that he granted the various companies that we have mentioned the right to manufacture gold from base metals.

We now wonder what use all this suspicious wealth received. The silence that English history maintains on this question could already serve as an answer; but we will formulate it in a more precise way by saying that the gold made by English alchemists was used to make counterfeit money under the aegis of the king.
Is it permissible, after the centuries that separate us from this era, to establish what was the nature of the chemical alloy which was used to make Henry VI's counterfeit money? According to Barchuysen, this sophisticated gold consisted of an amalgam of copper, which was obtained indirectly by the following process. In an iron crucible, mercury and copper vitriol (copper sulphate) containing a little water were placed.

The copper salt, dissolving in water, was reduced to the metallic state by the deoxidizing action of the iron, and the copper, thus reduced, combined with mercury to form a thick amalgam. The product of this operation was washed to separate the soluble parts; it was then subjected to compression to cause the excess uncombined mercury to flow out. Finally, the amalgam was melted, taking care not to reach the temperature, quite high, at which it decomposes. This amalgam, very malleable and which easily received the action of the pendulum, had the brilliant yellow color of gold, only its density differed notably from that of this metal.

Such was the new coinage minted by Henry VI. They had no doubt succeeded in obtaining the silence of the public assayers, for no complaint arose in England against the royal fraud. However, to cause less harm to England, efforts were made to spread, especially abroad, the products of this shameful industry.
Scotland, which received them first, immediately recognized the fraud, and, in 1449, the parliament of this country prescribed the exercise of continuous surveillance on the borders, in order to prevent any introduction of counterfeit English money. In 1450, the same parliament ordered that all the gold in the coins of Scotland be subjected to careful verification, and that in future the ordinary weight of the coins should be doubled, so that they could not be confused with the coins of Scotland. England. The same prescription was made for silver coins. Finally, as in spite of everything, these fraudulent imports continued, the Scottish parliament was obliged to come to an extreme measure and to prohibit all trade with England.

In France, we proceeded differently. Bad coins were made there, which were passed to the English; They accepted them without difficulty, because they did not bear the rightly suspect mark of their country. When the English were definitively expelled from France, there remained in our country a fairly large quantity of this false native currency, and the just indignation of the people was directed against the king's financier, Jacques Cœur, accused of having presided over this alteration of cash. It was in vain that, to deceive public opinion, Jacques Cœur tried to spread the rumor that he had found in the discovery of the philosopher's stone the origin of his immense riches: in Bourges, on the frontispiece of his hotel, he had represented, with this intention, the emblems of alchemy. But the people, who had accepted this symbolic explanation from the pious Nicolas Flamel, refused the same confidence in the powerful minister of the King of France; and public vindictiveness was only moderately satisfied when, in 1453, a decree of Charles VII condemned him to perpetual banishment.

In England, the manufacture of gold was still authorized, by royal charter, under one of Henry VI's successors. In 1468, Edward IV granted the alchemist Richard Carter permission to pursue the transmutation of metals for three years. The follower worked at the king's expense, and had been installed by him in the castle of Wostock. In 1476, the same monarch granted a company a privilege of four years "to occupy itself with natural philosophy and transform mercury into gold." » It cannot be demonstrated, however, that the work of these various operators was used to alter currencies (3).

On the list of sovereigns who took advantage of alchemical science to manufacture and have their subjects accept bad gold, we can add the name of Empress Barbe, second wife of Emperor Sigismund, known in the history of Germany for having, in 1401, helped her husband to reconquer the throne of Hungary. The Empress Barbe, a bold and learned woman, had a special predilection for alchemy; she took advantage of her chemical knowledge to prepare and sell to her subjects the alloy of arsenic and copper as silver, and the alloy of gold, copper and silver, as pure gold .

This fraud would undoubtedly have remained unknown to history, if the conscience and honesty of a follower had not taken care to reveal it to us. An alchemist from Bohemia, Jean de Laaz, who visited the principal cities of Europe to perfect his art, had the opportunity to submit to severe examination the operations of the imperial adept, and, in one of his works, he reveals the fact to us in the following terms:

“Having heard from all sides that the wife of the great emperor Sigismund possessed very high knowledge in the natural sciences, I asked her to allow me to attend her work. The empress was a very skillful woman who knew how to measure her words with great prudence and finesse. One day she performed a transmutation of copper into silver in my presence. She took arsenic, mercury and something else that she didn't tell me (quas ipsa scivit bene). She made a powder from it which immediately whitened the copper. She thus deceived many people.

“Likewise I saw at her house that she mixed hot copper with a certain powder which changed the copper into fine silver. But, when it is melted, it becomes copper again.

Another time she took saffron, copper vitriol and another powder, and mixing them, she made gold and silver. Then the metal presented the appearance of pure gold; but when it was melted it lost its color. She thus deceived many merchants.

“When I recognized his lies and his deception, I reproached him. She wanted to have me thrown into prison; but, thank God, things did not go that far. »

It would be easy to show, through other facts, the true consequences of the protection granted by the sovereigns of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance to Hermetic artists. It would be easy to show, for example, that the periods when we saw the most serious alterations of currencies taking place among different nations coincided with the time when alchemy shone with its brightest brilliance.

In France, it was under the reign of kings Philippe de Valois, Jean and Philippe le Bel, denounced by public opinion as having seriously altered currencies, that we saw the flourishing of many famous alchemists, such as Rupescissa, Orthulain and Odomar. In England, Edward III, over whom the same accusation hangs, was the host and friend of Raymond Lulle; and everything combines to prove that the noble rose coins of this last monarch were of the same quality as the sophisticated coins of his descendant Henry VI.

1. Here is the translation of the text of this bubble:
“The unfortunate alchemists promise what they don’t have!” Although they believe themselves to be wise, they fall into the abyss they dig for others. They present themselves, in a laughable manner, as the masters of alchemy, and prove their ignorance, by always quoting older writers; and although they cannot discover what these have not found either, they still look to the possibility of finding it in the future. If they give away a deceptive metal for real gold and silver, they do so with a lot of words that mean nothing.

Audacity has gone too far; because, by this means, they mint counterfeit money, and thus deceive the people. We order that all these men leave the country forever, as well as those who make themselves gold and silver, or who have agreed with the deceivers to pay them this gold, and we want that, to punish them, one gives to the poor their real gold. Those who thus produce false gold and silver are without honor. If the means of those who have broken the law do not allow them to pay this fine, this punishment may be changed to another.

If members of the clergy are included among the alchemists, they will not find grace and will be deprived of ecclesiastical dignity. » If the means of those who broke the law do not allow them to pay this fine, this punishment may be changed to another. If people of the clergy are included among the alchemists, they will not find favor and will be deprived of ecclesiastical dignity. » If the means of those who have broken the law do not allow them to pay this fine, this punishment may be changed to another. If members of the clergy are included among the alchemists, they will not find grace and will be deprived of ecclesiastical dignity. »

2. John Petty quoted this ordinance of Henry VI in his book Fodince regales, chap. xxvii, p. 1, and Morhof asserts that, in his time, the original pieces were kept in London. (Epistola ad Langelottum, p. 125.)
3. H. Kopp. Geschichte der Chemie.

CHAPTER II.

THE PRIVATE LIVES OF ALCHEMISTS.

History only has an overview, in more or less real conformity with the facts, relative to the life of alchemists in the midst of the society of their time. In his History of the French of the Various States, Alexis Monteil only treated this subject in a superficial manner, and we can undoubtedly infer from this that historical science has until now lacked precise information on this curious subject. . To shed some light on this question, however, it was enough to look in the writings of the alchemists for the details which relate to their individual existence. Several of them naively exposed the particularities of their career, and it is possible to reconstruct, with these elements, the forgotten features of their physiognomy.

We will take as a guide and as a text for this examination a passage from the treatise De alchimiâ attributed to Albert the Great, in which the author enumerates the various conditions that the alchemist must fulfill in order to achieve the great work.

“1° The alchemist, Albert the Great tells us, will be discreet and silent; he will not reveal the results of his operations to anyone;

“2° He will live, far from men, in a private house in which there are two or three rooms exclusively intended for his operations;

“3° He will choose the time and hours of his work;

“4° He will be patient, diligent and persevering;

“5° He will carry out, according to the rules of the art, trituration, sublimation, fixation, calcination, solution, distillation and coagulation;

“6° He will only use vessels of glass or glazed pottery;

“7° He will be rich enough to incur the expenses required for his operations;

“8° He will, finally, avoid having any relationship with princes and lords (1)....”

We will show, by invoking various facts borrowed from the lives of some famous artists, on what motives these rules were based traced by Albert the Great to direct them in their career.
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In ​​his first precept, Albert recommends to the follower silence and discretion regarding the results of his work. The following facts will make it clear whether this advice was ill-founded.

In 1483, an alchemist named Louis de Neus, a native of Silesia, had experimented, at the court of Marburg, in front of a large number of witnesses, with a philosophical tincture, part of which transformed, according to him, sixteen parts of mercury into very pure gold. Jean Dornberg, courtier and minister of Landgrave Henry III, and who was later to dispossess his master's son for his own benefit, had witnessed the operations. He demanded that the adept reveal his secret to him, and when the latter refused, he had him thrown into prison. Having been unable to obtain anything from the prisoner through his threats or his violence, he left him to die of hunger.

In 1570, an alchemist monk, named Albrecht Beyer, was murdered in his house, because the murderers hoped to find the philosopher's stone in his home, which he boasted of possessing.

The Provençal alchemist Delisle, who shone under Louis XIV, had acquired his projection powder by assassinating, in the gorges of Savoy, a Hermetic philosopher whose servant he was.

Sébastien Siebenfreund, born in Schkeuditz, near Leipsick, and son of a cloth manufacturer, was attached to a Polish lord, and traveled with him to Italy. This lord having died during the journey, Siebenfreund retired to a convent in Verona. An old brother of the convent, who developed a strong affection for him, initiated him into hermetic processes, and, on his deathbed, bequeathed him the secret of a certain powder suitable for the transmutation of metals.

Siebenfreund then returned to his country and entered the convent of Oliva, located near Elbing. After having practiced sufficiently in preparing this marvelous panacea, Siebenfreund left the convent, in order to enjoy, with his freedom, the fruits of his labor. Being in Hamburg, in 1570, he received hospitality from a Scottish gentleman who was suffering from a violent attack of gout, which threw everyone around him into great distress. Siebenfreund administered a remedy which immediately put him back on his feet, and this rapid recovery struck everyone with surprise.

In the Scotsman's house, lived two students from Wittenberg, Nicolas Clobes and Jonas Agricola, plus a third, whose name has not been revealed by the author of this story (2). The three students thought that this wonderful remedy could not be anything other than the philosopher's stone that the monk boasted of possessing. Questioned on this point, Siebenfreund had the imprudence to agree to the fact, and the better to convince his host and his three than an amalgam of gold, and, having heated it above the flame of a furnace, he returned it to the witnesses of this experiment, transformed into gold, or, to speak better, gilded in consequence of the decomposition gold amalgam. It was in vain that the Scottish gentleman begged his learned friend to grant him a little of this blessed powder; all he could get was the precious object that came from the experience.

To escape the importunate noise which this adventure caused in Hamburg, Siebenfreund left that city and returned to Prussia by a circuitous route. He passed successively through Lüneburg and Magdeburg, stopping at Wittenberg, where he spent four months in the house of his friend, Professor Bach. However, the three students and the Scottish gentleman had secretly followed in his footsteps; they remained hidden in Wittenberg, to wait for a favorable opportunity. The moment seemed propitious to them for the execution of their sinister projects, when Siebenfreund's servant, obliged to go to his parents' house, at some distance from Wittenberg, left his master alone in his friend's house. Having entered his room under cover of night,

History does not say whether the adept's assassins were sought out and punished. According to the author of the story, Doctor Leonard Thurneysser, of whom we have spoken elsewhere, was among the murderers; but this fact is far from being established, because Thurneysser was not in Prussia at the time attributed to this event, and Theobald of Hoghelande, in his History of some transmutations, gives different names to the murderers of Siebenfreund.
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“An alchemist, Albert the Great tells us in his second precept, must live, far from men, in a private house, in which there are two or three rooms exclusively intended for sublimations, solutions and distillations . »

It is not only to find the calm and tranquility necessary for his operations that the alchemist had to shut himself up in an isolated dwelling. A certain danger was necessarily attached to the execution of chemical operations at a time when, proceeding without precise rules, we did not understand the nature of the phenomena whose accomplishment we were causing. As the existence of gases was still unknown, no precautions were taken in advance to release elastic fluids when they were produced within the devices. Hence a permanent cause of accidents: explosions of retorts, ruptures of pelicans and retorts, fires caused by the sudden ignition of combustible gases, etc.

Among many others of the same kind that it would be easy to cite, we will borrow here a fact from the author of Curiosités de la literature, who recounts it according to the Memoirs of the new Atalante, a work published at the end of the 17th century, and due to the pen, quite well known in the literary history of Great Britain, of Mrs. Marie Manley.

“A princess, in love with alchemy, met,” the author of Curiosities of Literature tells us, “a man who claimed to have the power to change lead into gold, that is to say, in alchemical language, to convert imperfect metals into perfect metals. This Hermetic philosopher asked only for the materials and time necessary to carry out the conversion he had promised. He was taken to the countryside of his protector, where a large laboratory was built for him, and, so that he could not be disturbed in his work, the most express orders were given so that no one would enter. . He had imagined turning his door on a pivot, so that he received food without seeing or being seen, and without anything being able to distract him from his sublime contemplations. During his two-year stay at the castle, he did not agree to speak to anyone, not even his infatuated protector.

When she was first introduced into his laboratory, she saw, with pleasant astonishment, stills, immense boilers, long pipes, forges, furnaces and three or four hellfires lit in different corners of the this kind of volcano. She contemplated with no less veneration the smoky face of the physicist, pale, emaciated and weakened by his daytime operations and his continual vigils, who revealed to her, in unintelligible jargon, the successes he had obtained; she saw or thought she saw heaps of gold mine scattered in her laboratory. Often the alchemist requested a new still or enormous quantities of coal.

This princess, however, seeing that she had spent a large part of her fortune in meeting the philosopher's requests, began to regulate the development of her imagination on the advice of wisdom. Two years had already passed, vast quantities of lead had been supplied, and she still saw only lead.

She discovered her way of thinking in the physicist: he sincerely admitted to her that he was surprised by the slowness of his progress, but that he was going to redouble his efforts and risk a laborious operation, in which until then he had believed do not have to resort to it. Her protectress withdrew, and the golden visions of hope resumed all their first empire. began to regulate the flight of his imagination on the advice of wisdom.

Two years had already passed, vast quantities of lead had been supplied, and she still saw only lead. She discovered her way of thinking in the physicist: he sincerely admitted to her that he was surprised by the slowness of his progress, but that he was going to redouble his efforts and risk a laborious operation, in which until then he had believed do not have to resort to it. Her protectress withdrew, and the golden visions of hope resumed all their first empire.

began to regulate the flow of his imagination on the advice of wisdom. Two years had already passed, vast quantities of lead had been supplied, and she still saw only lead. She discovered her way of thinking about the physicist: he confessed to her sincerely that he was surprised at the slowness of her progress, but that he was going to redouble his efforts and risk a laborious operation, in which until then he had believed. do not have to resort to it. Her protector withdrew, and the golden visions of hope regained their former sway.

She discovered her way of thinking in the physicist: he sincerely admitted to her that he was surprised by the slowness of his progress, but that he was going to redouble his efforts and risk a laborious operation, in which until then he had believed do not have to resort to it. Her protectress withdrew, and the golden visions of hope resumed all their first empire. She discovered her way of thinking in the physicist: he sincerely admitted to her that he was surprised by the slowness of his progress, but that he was going to redouble his efforts and risk a laborious operation, in which until then he had believed do not have to resort to it. Her protectress withdrew, and the golden visions of hope resumed all their first empire.

“One day when she was at dinner, a terrible cry, followed by an explosion similar to that of a cannon shot of the highest caliber, was heard; she went with her people to the chemist; they found two large broken retorts, a large part of the laboratory in flames, and the physicist burned from head to toe (3). »

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Albert the Great, in the precept which follows, recommends to the adept patience and diligent perseverance in the execution of his work. This is, without a doubt, the recommendation to which alchemists have been most faithful. It is almost impossible to understand today to what extent they pushed this valuable quality.

Meditations on the writings of the great masters and comparison of different authorities, continued without interruption for whole years; journeys undertaken in various countries of Europe or the Orient, to receive from the mouths of famous artists the communication of their discoveries; incessant work, endless operations, eternally prolonged experiences whose course nothing could interrupt; sacrifices of all kinds, who let themselves be stopped neither by the loss of fortune nor by the ruin of health: such is the picture of the life of an adept engaged in the search for the great work. This astonishing perseverance, of which the Middle Ages alchemist was the living emblem, went so far as to go beyond the very limits of the tomb.

“The operator who was removed from his work by premature death,” says Mr. Hoëfer, “often left an experiment begun as an inheritance to his son; and it was not uncommon to see him bequeath in his will the secret of the unfinished experience he had inherited from his father. Alchemy experiences were transmitted from father to son as inalienable goods (4). »

Nothing is more likely to give us an exact idea of ​​the perseverance or rather the extraordinary passion that the alchemists brought to their work than the curious and agitated life of the adept Denis Zachaire. We will recall its main features. The details that he himself transmitted to us on this subject in the first part of his Opuscule on the natural philosophy of metals, will at the same time provide us with the opportunity to point out several interesting particularities on the life of French alchemists in the sixteenth century. .

Denis Zachaire belonged to a noble family from Guyenne; but his real name is unknown; for, like many of his colleagues, he sheltered himself, in his works, under the veil of a pseudonym. He was born in 1510. After receiving his first education in his father's house, he was sent to Bordeaux to study letters and philosophy in the College of Arts. His youth had been entrusted to the supervision of a tutor. Unfortunately, the latter was a follower of Hermes.

Instead of leading his pupil along the quiet paths of literature, he only initiated him into the practices of the great work. The young Zachaire frequented many schoolchildren who, like him, neglecting the studies of the college for those of the alchemical laboratory, had already made an ample collection of recepts for the transmutation of metals.

Before leaving Bordeaux, he had filled a whole big book with it, and he could manufacture gold of any kind, at eighteen or twenty carats, ducat gold or silver. gold shield, fit to withstand the test of casting or touchstone. The same result for silver: one could, with these blessed formulas, obtain silver at ten or eleven denarii, white fire silver or touch silver. These various formulas bore the names of Work of the Queen of Navarre, Work of the Cardinal of Lorraine or of Cardinal de Tournon.

Young schoolchildren at the Bordeaux college used part of their time in these useful pursuits. Before leaving Bordeaux, he had filled a whole big book with it, and he could manufacture gold of any kind, at eighteen or twenty carats, ducat gold or silver. gold shield, fit to withstand the test of casting or touchstone. The same result for silver: one could, with these blessed formulas, obtain silver at ten or eleven denarii, white fire silver or touch silver.

These various formulas bore the names Work of the Queen of Navarre, Work of the Cardinal of Lorraine or the Cardinal of Tournon. The young scholars at the College of Bordeaux employed part of their time in these useful occupations. Before leaving Bordeaux, he had filled a whole big book with it, and he could manufacture gold of any kind, at eighteen or twenty carats, ducat gold or silver. gold shield, fit to withstand the test of casting or touchstone.

The same result for silver: one could, with these blessed formulas, obtain silver at ten or eleven denarii, white fire silver or touch silver. These various formulas bore the names Work of the Queen of Navarre, Work of the Cardinal of Lorraine or the Cardinal of Tournon. The young scholars at the College of Bordeaux employed part of their time in these useful occupations. at eighteen or twenty carats, ducat gold or shield gold, suitable to withstand the test of cast iron or touchstone.

The same result for silver: one could, with these blessed formulas, obtain silver at ten or eleven denarii, white fire silver or touch silver. These various formulas bore the names of Work of the Queen of Navarre, Work of the Cardinal of Lorraine or of Cardinal de Tournon. Young schoolchildren at the Bordeaux college used part of their time in these useful pursuits. at eighteen or twenty carats, ducat gold or shield gold, suitable to withstand the test of cast iron or touchstone. The same result for silver: one could, with these blessed formulas, obtain silver at ten or eleven denarii, white fire silver or touch silver. These various formulas bore the names of Work of the Queen of Navarre, Work of the Cardinal of Lorraine or of Cardinal de Tournon.

Young schoolchildren at the Bordeaux college used part of their time in these useful pursuits. white fire silver or touch silver. These various formulas bore the names Work of the Queen of Navarre, Work of the Cardinal of Lorraine or the Cardinal of Tournon. The young scholars at the College of Bordeaux employed part of their time in these useful occupations. white fire silver or touch silver. These various formulas bore the names Work of the Queen of Navarre, Work of the Cardinal of Lorraine or the Cardinal of Tournon. The young scholars at the College of Bordeaux employed part of their time in these useful occupations.
On leaving the College of Arts, the young Zachaire was sent to Toulouse, in the company of his tutor, to study law there; but the master and the pupil had no other desire than to promptly put to the test the precious recepts of Bordeaux.

As soon as they arrived, therefore, they began to place in their room several small stoves suitable for chemical operations. From small stoves they came to large ones, so that the room was soon filled with them. On some, we distilled; in others, various materials were calcined: here, fusion was carried out; there, the sublimation prescribed by the formulas. At the end of a year, the sum of two hundred crowns, which the young Denis had received from his parents to maintain himself for two years, he and his master, in the city of Toulouse, had dissipated into smoke. It was because it had been necessary to buy a considerable quantity of coal, various expensive drugs, and for six crowns glass vessels; without counting two ounces of fine gold and three marcs of silver, which one of the formulas had recommended as indispensable to the execution of the work, and which ended up vanishing entirely by dint of combinations and mixtures .

It was hardly less hot in the room of the young law graduate than in the foundries of the arsenal of Venice, and the worthy tutor, who never left this furnace for a moment, so much zeal and ardor did he bring at his work, was taken, when summer came, with a continuous fever, for having blown too much while drinking hot. He died gloriously on his battlefield, much to the chagrin of his pupil, who relied on his skill to procure the money his tutors were beginning to refuse him.

Thus left to himself, Denis Zachaire saw nothing better than to go to his country, in order to obtain the free use of his property, administered by his guardians since the death of his father. For four hundred crowns, he leased part of his properties for a period of three years, and hastened to return to Toulouse, in order to apply this sum to the execution of an infallible recipe that an Italian had taught him. after seeing its wonders with his own eyes.

This process consisted of dissolving gold and silver in strong water, and calcining the product to make a projection powder. But two ounces of gold and a marc of silver, treated for two months according to the Italian's methods, gave only a powder quite devoid of virtue. Of the quantity of gold and silver he had used, Zachaire was only able to recover half a mark; so he tells us: “All the increase I received was in the manner of the diminishing pound. His four hundred crowns were thus reduced to two hundred and thirty, and as the Italian offered to go to Milan, where the author of this recipe was, to obtain complete clarifications from him, Zachaire gave him twenty crowns, and remained all winter in Toulouse to await his return.

“But,” he adds, “I would still be there if I had wanted to wait, because I haven’t seen him since. » His four hundred crowns were thus reduced to two hundred and thirty, and as the Italian offered to go to Milan, where the author of this recipe was, to obtain complete clarifications from him, Zachaire gave him twenty crowns, and remained all winter in Toulouse to await his return.

“But,” he adds, “I would still be there if I had wanted to wait, because I haven’t seen him since. » His four hundred crowns were thus reduced to two hundred and thirty, and as the Italian offered to go to Milan, where the author of this recipe was, to obtain complete clarifications from him, Zachaire gave him twenty crowns, and remained all winter in Toulouse to await his return.

“But,” he adds, “I would still be there if I had wanted to wait, because I haven’t seen him since. »
A great epidemic having broken out in Toulouse, Zachaire decided to abandon the city; but, not wishing to part with his friends, companions in his research, he followed them to their country, to Cahors. Among them was a good old man, an adept faded under the weight of work and years, and who was only known in Toulouse by the name of the Philosopher.

Zachaire communicated to him the collection of his recipes, and asked for his advice, happy to rely on the experience and knowledge of a man who had handled so many simple ones in his life. The philosopher noted ten of them as the best: and, six months later, at the end of the epidemic, our young follower having returned to Toulouse, hastened to subject them to the experiment. Thus passed the whole winter: but none of the recipes put into practice provide results; so that on Midsummer's Day his crowns were reduced to one hundred and seventy.

This failure, experienced in spite of the advice of the old philosopher, would undoubtedly have discouraged the young alchemist, if a fortunate circumstance had not come to restore his confidence and hope. Zachaire had made the acquaintance in Cahors of a young abbot who, possessing, near Toulouse, a rich prebend, honorably devoted his leisure and his income to the research of the great work.

This conformity of tastes had given rise to a lively sympathy between them. Back in Toulouse, the abbot received from one of his friends, attached to Cardinal d'Armagnac in Rome, the communication of an excellent recipe for the hermetic work. This process consisted of heating calcined gold powder with brandy distilled a large number of times for a year; its execution would only entail an expense of two hundred crowns. The two friends resolved to unite, for this important work, their efforts as well as their purse, and, the terms of this little association well agreed between them, they immediately set to work.

It was first important to obtain very pure brandy. So they bought a good piece of Gaillac wine, which they placed, to extract the brandy, in a large still. A month was spent in distilling this brandy several times in the pelican; it was then rectified in glass vessels. Thus brought to a high degree of concentration, brandy appeared to them suitable for the dissolution of gold. They took four marcs of this liquid, which they placed in a glass retort containing a marc of gold, which had previously been subjected to strong calcination for a month. This retort, placed in a second larger one, and the whole apparatus being well closed, we installed it in a large furnace, and we prepared to maintain the fire below for an entire year.

While waiting for this long interval to expire, the two operators occupied their leisure time trying a few small processes which did not produce any better results than the major operation was expected to provide.

After a year, in fact, the two friends recognized with pain that the brandy had not dissolved an atom of gold. The metal remained at the bottom of the retort in the same state in which it had been placed there. We tried to use it as a projection powder, working on mercury heated in a crucible, as indicated in the recipe; but it was in vain.

We understand the disappointment of the two alchemists. The most upset was the abbot, who, believing himself sure of the result, had announced it in advance to the monks of his convent, and had written to the brotherhood, the very day before the operation, that there were no more only to melt the beautiful lead fountain which adorned the courtyard of the monastery to extract gold ingots. The beautiful fountain was therefore reserved for another occasion: it did not fail in its destiny, for a few years later, it was passed through the crucible of a traveling alchemist who had come to demonstrate his knowledge in the abbey.

However, far from discouraging the abbot, this failure only redoubled his ardor.

To make a big attempt, he proposed to Zachaire to go to Paris with eight hundred crowns, of which they would each provide half, and to continue the common work there, taking advantage of the enlightenment of the innumerable hermetic artists who then filled the capital with France. Having accepted his friend's proposal, and finding, by leasing his property, the necessary sum, Zachaire prepared to go to Paris, determined to lose everything or discover the philosopher's stone.

In vain did his parents try to dissuade him from this project. To avoid their remonstrances, he pretended that his trip would have no other purpose than to buy the office of councilor from the court. From then on his family, who had always recognized in him the makings of a great jurist, no longer opposed his plan. Zachaire left his province on Boxing Day; he arrived in Paris on the day of the Kings of the year 1539.

Of all the cities in Europe, Paris was then the most frequented by alchemists. So the follower of Guyenne remained there for a whole month unknown, lost in this immense crowd of artists of all kinds who devoted themselves jointly or individually to the search for the great work. But, at the end of this time, he had established contact with such a large number of workers of all professions, such as foundries, goldsmiths, craftsmen of various metals, glass and furnace manufacturers, etc., that Through their intermediary, he had met more than a hundred followers. He found useful lessons in witnessing the various operations that the latter carried out: “Some, he told us, worked on the dyeing of metals by projection, others by cementing, others by dissolution, others by conjunction of the essence (as they said) of emery, others by long decoctions; the others worked on extracting mercury from metals, the others on fixing them. »

In the Middle Ages, alchemists who lived in large cities had the habit of meeting every day under the peristyle of cathedrals, in order to communicate to each other the results and progress of their work. The church of Notre-Dame-la-Grande, in Paris, was the meeting place for the people of this state, and every day, even on Sundays and holidays, they met under the vaults of the old basilica, "to discuss the tasks that had happened in the previous days. »

We also assembled at the home of one of them. The house of Zachaire was sometimes the place of their meetings, and it was there that one could hear the complaints, the hopes and the regrets of all these ardent men, dried up in the fire of a common passion, bent under the weight of the same yoke. However, these conversations did not shine with variety, because the words we heard there were always the same: “Some,” Zachaire tells us, “said: If we had the means to start again, we would do something good.

The others: If our ship had held, we would have been in it. The others: If we had had our copper vessel very round and well closed, we would have fixed Mercury with the moon; so much so that there was not one who did anything good, and who was not accompanied by an apology. » The others: If our ship had held, we would have been in it. The others: If we had had our copper vessel very round and well closed, we would have fixed Mercury with the moon; so much so that there was not one who did anything good, and who was not accompanied by an apology. » The others: If our ship had held, we would have been in it.

The others: If we had had our copper vessel very round and well closed, we would have fixed Mercury with the moon; so much so that there was not one who did anything good, and who was not accompanied by an apology. »

However, it was necessary to make a choice among such a large number of operators. Zachaire decided to place his trust in a Greek who arrived during the summer, and who claimed to know how to change cinnabar shaped into nails into silver. He ground three pieces of silver into powder, and with a little water, made a paste of this powder to which he gave the shape of nails; then mixing these nails

with pulverized cinnabar, he dried them in a well-covered vase. Then he melted everything and submitted the product of this fusion to the dish. There then remained in the cup more than three marks of silver, that is to say a weight greater than that of the metal used. In this operation, there was therefore, according to the artist, artificial production of a certain quantity of silver.

According to him, the silver that the operator had mixed with the cinnabar had gone up in smoke, and that which remained came from the transmutation of the cinnabar. But we can guess what the true nature of this operation was.

The cinnabar (mercury sulphide) being volatile, disappeared in the fire of the cup furnace, and if there was in certain cases a slight increase in the original weight of the silver tested, this result was due to the accidental presence of a certain quantity of silver in the cinnabar which had been used. This is what Zachaire had to recognize, but a little late; because, he tells us, “if it was a profit, God knows, and so do I who depended on more than thirty crowns. »

This affair of the transmutation of cinnabar, however, caused a lot of noise among Parisian alchemists. "This was so well known in Paris, Zachaire tells us, that before the following Christmas, he was the son of a good mother, intermingled with working in science, who did not know, or had not heard of the nails of cinnabar; as another time later there was talk of copper apples, to fix mercury there with the moon. »

Zachaire, who until then had only associated with honest operators, and like him, working in good faith, soon had the opportunity to be initiated into the frauds of false followers. A foreign gentleman, coming from the North, and who was perhaps Wenceslas Lavin, arrived at this time in Paris. He was only an expert in hermetic sophistications, and lived on this type of resources, selling the products of his suspicious operations to goldsmiths.

Zachaire followed the fortunes of this adventurer for some time, without however wanting to be associated with his maneuvers. Possessor of a still quite good fortune, and never losing sight of his dignity as a gentleman, Zachaire, far from seeking to enrich himself from the trade of this stranger, spent his money largely on experiments with him. After a year, his companion finally agreed to reveal his secret to him; but, as Zachaire had well suspected, this secret was only an illusion.

However, he always maintained a correspondence with his dear abbot, keeping him informed of his successes and the progress of his enterprise. In this way he spent three years in the capital; At the end of this time, the eight hundred crowns and other sums that the abbot had sent him were entirely dissipated.
In the meantime, Zachaire received a letter from his friend, urging him to return to Toulouse without delay. He left immediately, and as soon as he arrived he was made aware of the important circumstance which had necessitated his departure.

The King of Navarre, Henri II, grandfather of Henri IV, liked to deal with alchemy. The rumor of the wonders carried out by the foreign gentleman, companion of Zachaire, had penetrated from Paris to the depths of Béarn, and King Henry hastened to write to the Toulouse abbot, begging him to send Zachaire to his States, with the promise of a reward of four thousand crowns in the event of success. This note of four thousand crowns had so tickled the abbe's ears that he thought he already had the sum in his purse.

He had no rest until his dear Zachaire set out for Navarre. Our follower arrived in Pau in May 1542, and was perfectly welcomed by the king. However, he was obliged to stay six weeks before getting to work, because the plants that had to be picked for the start of operations did not grow in the country of Navarre. At the end of this time, he set to work. But the success did not respond well to the hopes of the king, who, dissatisfied with the artist, sent him away with great thanks as a reward. And as Zachaire, complaining of such a procedure, demanded the execution of the promises that had been made to him, the king gave him this answer: “Advise, sir, if there is nothing in my lands which may suit you, such as "confiscation, prison or the like;

I would gladly give them to you. Zachaire and the King of Navarre could not agree: one asked for an alchemist who would quickly put him in possession of the secret of making gold; the other sought a king at whose expense he could continue his experiments at his ease. So the follower immediately returned to Gascony.

It was during this return that Zachaire had the good fortune to meet the blessed counselor who was to put him on the road to truth that he had been pursuing for so long. He was a very learned monk, versed in all the knowledge of natural philosophy, and who had spent his whole life on the writings of the old masters.

Zachaire having informed him of all the work he had done up to that point, the religious scholar greatly pitied him for having spent so much money and fatigue on ill-advised research. He advised him to stick henceforth to the meditation of the ancient philosophers, adding that it was unfortunate that a gentleman as educated as himself, who had done his acts of philosophy at Bordeaux, and had been received as a master in this science, would always have deprived himself of the enlightenment transmitted to us on this question by the sages of times gone by. Thus brought back, by the advice of the good monk, on a certain path, Zachaire hastened to join his friend to finally settle with him the accounts of this association which had so sadly failed.

All things considered, there remained a sum of one hundred and eighty crowns, which they shared loyally;

after which the association was declared broken, to the great sadness of the abbot, who would have liked to push the enterprise further, and did not approve of the change of system which had taken place in the mind of his companion. He, however, decided to confine himself henceforth to meditation and to the comparison of the writings of the ancient philosophers, he took the resolution to return to Paris to put his project into execution.

On All Saints' Day in the year 1546, Zachaire returned to the capital, where his first care was to buy, for ten crowns, various philosophical treatises, such as the Peat of the Philosophers, the Lament of Nature, the Good Trévisan and the Works of Raymond Lully. Having rented a small room in the Faubourg Saint-Marceau, he shut himself up there, having with him only a little boy to serve him.

Then, without wishing to associate with any of the followers with which the capital still swarmed, he applied himself day and night to meditating on its authors. He employed eighteen months in this painful work, without however succeeding in settling definitively on the choice of any process. He then thought it necessary to get in touch, not with the empirical artists whom he had frequented seven years previously in the meetings held under the vaults of Notre-Dame, but with true philosophers who operated according to the recommendations of the ancients. However, their trade was of little use to him, because of the extreme diversity of the processes they used.

These operators in fact used means so numerous and so opposed that the mind ran the risk of getting lost in their infinite diversity. “If one, Zachaire tells us, worked with gold alone, the other worked with gold and mercury together; the other mixed it with lead, which he called ringing, because he had gone through the retort with quicksilver; the other converted any metals into quick silver with a variety of simple ones by sublimation; the other worked with an artificial black atrament, which he said was the real material, which Raymond Lully used for the composition of this great work.

If one worked in an alembic, the other worked in several others and various vessels of glass, and another of copper, another of lead, another of silver, and none in vessels of gold. Then one made his decoction on fire made of large coals, another of wood, another of grapes, another of the heat of the sun, and others in a bain-marie. » which Raymond Lully used for the composition of this great work. If one worked in one still, the other worked in several others and various vessels of glass, and another of copper, another of lead, another of silver, and none in vessels of gold.

Then one made his decoction on fire made from large coals, another from wood, another from grapes, another from the heat of the sun, and others in a bain-marie. » which Raymond Lulle used for the composition of this great work. If one worked in one still, the other worked in several others and various vessels of glass, and another of copper, another of lead, another of silver, and none in vessels of gold. Then one made his decoction on fire made of large coals, another of wood, another of grapes, another of the heat of the sun, and others in a bain-marie. » another of grapes, another of heat from the sun, and others in a bain-marie. » another of grapes, another of heat from the sun, and others in a bain-marie. »

This variety of operations, joined to the continual contradictions which he discovered in the ancient authors, had ended by reducing the unfortunate alchemist to despair, when the Holy Spirit inspired him, he tells us, with the thought of studying the works of Raymond Lulle, and in particular the Testament and Codicil of this author. He succeeded in adapting these two works so perfectly with an epistle by Raymond Lully to King Robert, and with a manuscript by the same author, which he had received from the good monk, his adviser, that he was from that moment certain of having put get your hands on the much-pursued secret.

All the books he consulted were in perfect agreement with his system, and such was, for example, the process or resolution given, at the end of his Rosarium, by Arnauld de Villeneuve, who was, as we know, the master of Raymond Lully. Zachaire spent an entire year meditating day and night on his process; At the end of this time, he returned to Toulouse to undergo the experiment. He arrived in his province during Lent in 1549; his first care was to stock up on furnaces and the necessary appliances, and, the day after Easter, he began his great operation.

However, his family and his friends did not see without deep sorrow all this ardor brought to a useless work, and the crazy expenses to which an unfortunate passion had led him since his youth. He had to endure more than one bitter reproach from them: “What do you pretend to do? a neighbor said to him, and haven't you spent enough money on such follies? Take care that seeing you buy so much coal in this way, you will not be accused, as has already been done, of being the author of counterfeit coins. —

"Isn't it strange," resumed another, "that being learned as you are, and already licensed in law, you still refuse to make the profession of the long robe, in order to attain some honorable office in the city ? » Relatives appeared, to whom the authority of the family allowed more severe remonstrances: "Why, they told him, not put an end to so many useless expenses?" Wouldn't it be better to pay your creditors or buy some good money? It does not matter, if you do not stop, that we do not send people of justice to your house to break all your paraphernalia of accursed utensils. » —

“Alas! resumed another, appealing to softer feelings, if you don't want to do anything for your parents, at least have regard for yourself. Consider yourself. Barely thirty years old, you seem to be fifty, your beard is beginning to whiten, which represents you all aged from the long fatigues you have endured in the pursuit of your young follies. » they told him, not to put an end to so much useless spending? Wouldn't it be better to pay your creditors or buy some good charge? It matters nothing, if you do not stop, that we do not send men of justice to your house to break all your accursed utensils. —

“Alas! continued another, appealing to gentler feelings, if you want to do nothing for your parents, at least have some consideration for yourself. Consider yourself. Barely thirty years old, you seem to be fifty, as your beard begins to whiten, which represents you quite aged from the long fatigues you endured in the pursuit of your young follies. » they told him, not to put an end to so much useless spending? Wouldn't it be better to pay your creditors or buy some good money? It does not matter, if you do not stop, that we do not send people of justice to your house to break all your paraphernalia of accursed utensils. — “Alas! resumed another, appealing to softer feelings, if you don't want to do anything for your parents, at least have regard for yourself. Consider yourself.

Barely thirty years old, you seem to be fifty, your beard is beginning to whiten, which represents you all aged from the long fatigues you have endured in the pursuit of your young follies. » not put an end to so much useless spending? Wouldn't it be better to pay your creditors or buy some good charge? It does not matter, if you do not stop, that we do not send people of justice to your house to break all your paraphernalia of accursed utensils. — “Alas! resumed another, appealing to softer feelings, if you don't want to do anything for your parents, at least have regard for yourself. Consider yourself.

Barely thirty years old, you seem to be fifty, your beard is beginning to whiten, which represents you all aged from the long fatigues you have endured in the pursuit of your young follies. » not put an end to so much useless spending? Wouldn't it be better to pay your creditors or buy some good charge? It does not matter, if you do not stop, that we do not send people of justice to your house to break all your paraphernalia of accursed utensils. — “Alas! resumed another, appealing to softer feelings, if you don't want to do anything for your parents, at least have regard for yourself. Consider yourself.

Barely thirty years old, you seem to be fifty, your beard is beginning to whiten, which represents you all aged from the long fatigues you have endured in the pursuit of your young follies. » continued another, appealing to gentler feelings, if you want to do nothing for your parents, at least have some consideration for yourself. Consider yourself.

Barely thirty years old, you seem to be fifty, as your beard begins to whiten, which represents you quite aged from the long fatigues you endured in the pursuit of your young follies. » continued another, appealing to gentler feelings, if you want to do nothing for your parents, at least have some consideration for yourself. Consider yourself. Barely thirty years old, you seem to be fifty, as your beard begins to whiten, which represents you quite aged from the long fatigues you endured in the pursuit of your young follies. »

All these speeches only added to Zachaire's impatience; he bore them with all the more displeasure, as he saw his work perfected day by day and the decisive hour approaching which was to pay for so much work and trouble. So everything remained powerless to keep him from his goal. The plague, which broke out in Toulouse during the summer, and which was so terrible, “that all market, all traffic was interrupted,” could not tear it away from the fire of its furnaces.

He remained there day and night, busy waiting “with great diligence for the appearance of the three colors that the philosophers wrote must appear before the perfection of the divine work. » These three expected colors finally showed themselves to the delighted eyes of the philosopher, indicating the definitive perfection of the philosopher's stone. So much so that on Easter Day in the year 1550, with a little of this divine stone, he converted, as he assures us, mercury into very good gold.

“If I were happy about it,” he adds, “God knows it. If I didn't brag about it for that; but I gave thanks to our good God who had given me so many favors and graces through his Son our redeemer JESUS ​​CHRIST, and prayed him to enlighten me with his Holy Spirit, to be able to use them to his honor and praise. »

The next day, Zachaire set out to announce his triumph to his friend and share with him the treasure after which they had so long sighed with one accord. He crossed the threshold of the monastery with a joyful step, and as he entered he cast a regretful glance at the empty site of this lead fountain which would have served so well to demonstrate his knowledge to the pious inhabitants of the house. But sad news awaited him. The poor abbot had died six months previously, without having experienced the supreme consolation that his friend brought him.

Zachaire wanted at least to go and show his gratitude to the religious scholar whose advice had been so profitable to him; but the good religious had also just died in another convent where he had retired.

Zachaire then decided to go abroad to end in peace a career which had been strewn with so many difficulties. He sent one of his cousins ​​to Toulouse to sell all his property there, and pay his creditors with the sums resulting from this sale. His desire was accomplished, but not without exciting many lamentations and complaints from his parents, who had long foreseen the ruin of this obstinate spendthrift.

This last act executed, Zachaire left France in the company of his young cousin, and went to Lausanne to live there, he tells us, "with a very small train," which does not plead in favor of the truth of his assertion. relating to the discovery of the philosopher's stone.

We could end there the story of the adept Zachaire, which we have only told in such detail in order to show by a striking example to what extent the alchemist researchers pushed patience, their essential prerogative. Besides, in the last part of his life, our hero would show himself less worthy of the interest he was able to inspire in our readers. The possession of this alleged treasure seemed to cloud his senses and lead his reason astray. He became unfaithful to the promise he had made to turn the new power he had acquired to the honor and praise of God.

Abandoning himself to the flow of all pleasures, he gave free rein to his passions, compressed by the harshness of work during the years of his youth. In love in Lausanne with a beautiful young girl, he left Switzerland with her to go and lead a life of dissipation and madness in Germany. After following the banks of the Rhine, he stopped at Cologne in 1556. It was there that a sad fate awaited him. In love with both Zachaire's young companion and the treasures he believed her to have, the traitorous cousin strangled him while he was plunged into a heavy sleep caused by drunkenness. Loaded with the remains of his victim, he fled with his accomplice. This event caused a great stir in Germany; but no trace of the murderer could be found. Mordecai of Delia, the court poet of Rudolph II, later composed a piece of verse on this subject which we would report here, if we were not afraid of giving an unfavorable idea of ​​the merits of Hermetic poetry.

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By listing the conditions that an alchemist must meet, Albert the Great tells us that he must above all possess fortune. The usefulness of this recommendation from the master could already be apparent from the fact that, by the very admission of the adepts, the gold obtained by transmutation came at a higher price than ordinary gold. But the meaning of this precept and its real meaning will appear even clearer to our readers, if we recall here the series of works accomplished by an alchemist very well known in the splendor of the art, Bernard le Trévisan, who employed sixty years in his occupy without interruption the research of the great work. The conclusion reached by this follower, as to the means which he recognized as the only ones suitable for making gold,

The adept who is designated in the alchemical bibliography under the name of Bernard the Trevisan or the good Trevisan, belonged to a noble family from Padua. Born in this city in 1406, he was count of Trevigo, a small county of the march of Treviso in the Venetian States. From the age of fourteen, he studied alchemy under the direction and advice of his family, and from that time until the end of his days, this study constituted the sole occupation of his life. life. A German chronicle says, apropos of the Sire of Sultzbourg, who died at Nuremberg in 1286: "He has much alchymized and much dissipated." The Sire of Sultzbourg must have been well overtaken by his emulator in Italy.

Still under his father's wing, the young Count Bernard studied, to learn the first principles of art, Geber and Rhasès. The work that he carried out under the inspiration of these authors caused him an expense of approximately three thousand crowns. Archelaus and Rupescissa then occupied his attention, and fifteen years were employed in these preliminary studies, during which “I depended, he assures us, both on deceivers and on me to know them, about six thousand crowns. »

As he began to lose courage, a bailiff from his country taught him how to make the philosopher's stone with sea salt; but it was in vain that he applied himself for a year and a half to this pro-ceded. After having tried it fifteen times, he decided to abandon it for another means taught by the bailiff. This method consisted in dissolving silver and mercury separately in etching.

These solutions, after having been left to their own devices for a year, were then mixed and concentrated on hot ashes, so as to be reduced to two-thirds of their original volume. The residue of this operation, placed in a very narrow curcurbite, was exposed to the action of the solar rays; then it was left in the air, so that small crystals would be produced there: twenty-two vials were filled with this mixture. We waited patiently for the formation of these crystals. This wait lasted five years: “We waited five years for these crystalline stones to form at the bottom of the vials. » But, at the end of this interval, nothing had happened, and Count Bernard, whom all this research had brought to the age of forty-six, had to think of trying another process.

This new process was revealed to him by a monk from Cîteaux, Master Geofroi le Leuvrier, who experienced it with him. They bought two thousand chicken eggs; hardened them in boiling water, and removed the shells which were calcined in the fire. The white and the yolk were separated from these hardened eggs, and they were rotted separately in horse manure. Then the product was distilled thirty times to finally remove a white water and a red one. But all these operations, although repeated a very large number of times and varied in several ways, led to nothing, and the Trevisan finally decided to abandon a job which had cost him eight years of his life.

The Trevisan then worked with a great theologian, protonotary of Bergues, who claimed to remove the philosopher's stone from rosacea, that is to say from iron sulfate. We began by calcining the rosacea for three months, which was then placed in vinegar distilled eight times. This mixture of rosacea and vinegar was then introduced into a still, and this product was distilled fifteen times a day.

These fifteen distillations had to be repeated every day for a year.

We are not surprised when the Trevisan tells us that following this new work by the Danaïdes, he was taken by quartan fever which lasted fourteen months and from which he almost died.

Barely recovered, Count Bernard learned from a cleric in his country that the emperor's confessor, Master Henri, knew how to prepare the philosopher's stone. He therefore headed towards Germany, and having managed "by great means and great friends" to get in touch with Master Henri, he was admitted to knowledge of his process in return for ten marks of silver, which he brought as an essential ingredient of the work. This is what the imperial confessor's procedure consisted of.

Mercury, silver, olive oil and sulfur were mixed together. Everything was melted over a moderate heat, and this pelican mixture was slowly cooked, stirring constantly. After two months, everything was dried in a glass vial covered with clay, Then lead was added to the mixture, which was melted in a crucible, and the product of this fusion was subjected to refining. According to Master Henri, the ten marcs d'argent which had been used were, following these operations, to increase by a third; but the fact did not correspond to this expectation, for the refining finished, the ten marcs of silver were reduced to four.

This failure was so painful for the Trevisan that, for two months, he abandoned all his work, and swore to give it up in the future. His parents applauded this happy resolution, but their joy was short-lived, because the obstinate follower wasted no time in resuming his chain. Despairing, however, of finding the secret he aspired to if he remained left to the sole advice of the scholars of his country, he decided to seek lessons from foreign doctors.

Count Bernard successively traveled through Spain, England, Scotland, Holland, Germany and France. Finally, wishing to deepen the knowledge of the East on this question, he spent several years in Egypt, Persia and Palestine. He stayed particularly in southern Greece, because the other parts of this country were continually worried by the invasion of Turkish troops.

Attaching himself above all to visiting the convents, he worked on the preparation of the work with the monks whom their fame pointed out to his attention. However, he did not disdain the knowledge of lay people. But all his efforts, all his incessant investigations came to nothing.

He had thus reached the age of sixty-two and dissipated the majority of the sums resulting from the sale of his property. In 1472 he arrived in Rhodes penniless, but still retaining, in all his vivacity, his faith in the marvelous agent which he had been pursuing from the early years of his youth. Focusing especially on visiting convents, he worked on the preparation of the work with the monks whose fame brought him to his attention. He did not, however, disdain the knowledge of the laity. But all his efforts, all his incessant investigations came to nothing.

He had thus reached the age of sixty-two and dissipated most of the sums resulting from the sale of his property. In 1472 he arrived in Rhodes without money, but still retaining, in all his vivacity, his faith in the wonderful agent whom he had been pursuing since the early years of his youth. Attaching himself above all to visiting the convents, he worked on the preparation of the work with the monks whom their fame pointed out to his attention.

However, he did not disdain the knowledge of lay people. But all his efforts, all his incessant investigations came to nothing. He had thus reached the age of sixty-two and dissipated the majority of the sums resulting from the sale of his property. In 1472 he arrived in Rhodes without money, but still retaining, in all his vivacity, his faith in the wonderful agent whom he had been pursuing since the early years of his youth. all his incessant investigations led to nothing. He had thus reached the age of sixty-two and dissipated most of the sums resulting from the sale of his property.

In 1472 he arrived in Rhodes without money, but still retaining, in all his vivacity, his faith in the wonderful agent whom he had been pursuing since the early years of his youth. all his incessant investigations came to nothing. He had thus reached the age of sixty-two and dissipated most of the sums resulting from the sale of his property. In 1472 he arrived in Rhodes without money, but still retaining, in all his vivacity, his faith in the wonderful agent whom he had been pursuing since the early years of his youth.

In Rhodes lived a "great cleric and religious" who was recognized throughout the East as having the good fortune to be in possession of the philosopher's stone. It was to get in touch with him that Bernard had stopped on this island. But, deprived of resources, he would have encountered many difficulties in approaching the learned adept, to whom one was not admitted empty-handed. The generosity of a merchant, friend of his family, who consented to lend him 8,000 florins, facilitated the access of this learned man.

Never, moreover, had his money received a mesh-their use, for it was the monk of Rhodes who was to fix the doubts of the good Trevisan and finally open his eyes to the true light. After having induced him, for three years, expenditure and useless work for the execution of a procedure for the preparation of the magisterium, by means of gold and silver mixed with mercury, the old tutor of this old pupil revealed to him the great secret of all the hermetic science. It is indeed through his advice that the Trevisan, finally abandoning all practical work, found in the Code of Truth (the Peat of the Philosophers) this maxim which gives everyone the key to the alchemical mysteries:

“Nature delights in Nature,
And Nature contains Nature. In
common style, this maxim means that to make gold you need gold, and that the hermetic processes never provide of this precious metal more than the quantity that we have been good enough to introduce into the operations.

Thus is justified and explained the advice given by Albert the Great to the alchemist, that in order to search for the philosopher's stone, one must begin by possessing great possessions.

When, in the year 1483, Count Bernard, at the age of seventy-seven, found himself in this way initiated into the true secret of hermetic science, he wanted to make himself useful to the innumerable adepts engaged in the same career in which he had so sadly exhausted his own existence, and it was to this end that he devoted the last seven years of his life to writing, on the principles of art, his various treatises, the most famous of which is entitled : The Book of the natural philosophy of metals (5). The alchemists, who have so often invoked the words of the good Trevisan and sought in his writings the confirmation of their views, have not understood that the aim of the author was only to highlight the uselessness of all their efforts. But,

“Nature delights in Nature,
And Nature contains Nature. »
This idea is clearly recognizable in the following passage from the Natural Philosophy of Metals, where the author concludes that all the operations of alchemists can lead to nothing, and that to make gold there is nothing else. to do but take gold.

“With which I conclude,” he said to us, “and believe me. Let sophistications and all those who believe in them; flee their sublimations, conjunctions, separations, freezing, preparations, disjunctions, connections and other disappointments. And those who assert another color than ours, not true, and not bringing any benefit, are silent. And those who go around saying and lecturing other sulfur than ours are silent; which is hidden inside the magnesia, and who want to draw other quick silver than from the red servant, and other water than ours, which is permanent, which in no way combines except with its nature, and does not wet anything else, except something which or the very unity of its nature. Because there is no vinegar other than ours, no other regime than ours, no other colors than ours, no other sublimation than ours, no other solution than ours, nor any other putrefaction than ours. »

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In ​​the last of the precepts of Albert the Great, to which we will draw attention, the author tells us that the follower must above all avoid any kind of relationship with lords and princes. Albert the Great develops this thought in these terms:

"If you have the misfortune," he said to the adept, "to introduce yourself to princes and kings, they will not stop asking you: 'Well, master, how is the work going?' When will we finally see something “good?” » And, in their impatience to wait for the end, they will call you trickster, scoundrel, etc., and will cause you all kinds of inconvenience (6). And if you don't succeed, you will feel the full effect of their anger. If you succeed, on the contrary, they will keep you in perpetual captivity with the intention of making you work for their benefit. »

Albert the Great has perfectly summarized in the preceding lines, the dangers that awaited the alchemists at the court of kings. All the sovereigns, in fact, were not content to treat the gold makers with the spiritual contempt shown towards one of them by Pope Leo X, to whom Aurelius Augurelle had dedicated his Latin poem Chrysopoïa. The adept poet received as a reward from the sovereign pontiff an empty purse, expected, said the pope, that to a man having the power to make gold, one cannot offer anything other than a purse to squeeze him. The sovereigns of the Middle Ages were far from confining themselves to this innocent criticism. Their relations with the hermetic artists were always comprised between the following two terms:

If the adept presented himself at court, sincerely confessing that he had not yet completely cleared up the preparation of the philosopher's stone, he was banished with contempt. If he testified, on the contrary, by more or less satisfactory proofs, that the great secret was known to him, he was subjected to a more severe examination, which always ended in the same result: very cruel penalties and sometimes death, if the fraudulent means which the artist had used were discovered; torture, life imprisonment, if he refused to reveal his secret.

A large number of followers have had the opportunity to have the sad experience of this truth, and history has recorded deplorable testimonies of the cruelty of sovereigns in this regard. Thus in 1575, Duke Jules de Brunswick of Luxembourg had a woman alchemist, Marie Ziglerin, burned in an iron cage, convinced of having deceived this prince by promising him the recipe for the preparation of gold. In the Middle Ages, many traveling artists went from town to town and often from fair to fair, to show their tricks of skill, battling with gypsies and tricksters in skill and deception, and seeking to steal from gullible people.

spectators the money they could not honorably earn. Many of them, who dared to venture into the court of princes,

We have reported above the sad end of Bragadino, hanged in Munich in 1590. George Honauer suffered the same fate in 1597, and Duke Frederick of Württemberg ordered the instrument of torture of this adept to be left standing for several years to serve as a warning to his colleagues. William of Krohnemann, around 1686, had deceived the court of Margrave George William of Bayreuth by manufacturing false gold. When it was found that the gold he had sold as pure was only an alloy, and that the silver he had obtained from the supposed transmutation of mercury was only an amalgam, he was hanged. by the order of the margrave, and this ironic inscription was placed on his gallows: “I once knew how to fix mercury, and it is now I who am fixed. » We will find further on the story of the extraordinary career of the adventurer Caëtano, executed in 1709 by the order of the King of Prussia, Frederick I.

A rival of this famous adventurer was Hector of Klettenberg of Frankfurt, who, obliged to leave his country following an unfortunate duel, tried to earn his living by hermetic tricks of skill, and had succeeded in doing so, at Mainz , in Prague and Bremen, a large number of dupes. After having similarly exploited the trust of the Duke of Weimar, in 1720 he presented himself to the King of Poland, Augustus II, promising to enrich him with the secret of the philosopher's stone.

On this promise, the King of Poland appointed him gentleman of the bedroom; but as he remained powerless to produce any of the marvelous results he had announced, the king, outraged with fury, had him taken to Kœnigstein, where he was beheaded. The adventures of the Scotsman Alexander Sethon, reported in another part of this work, will show us another example of the terrible vengeance that the German sovereigns knew how to extract from followers who rebelled against their demands. To put an end to this type of facts, we will report the death of a no less famous follower, David Beuther, who was, at the same time, victim of the vengeance of another small sovereign of Germany.

In his Laboratorium chymicum, Kunckel, whose authority is so trustworthy, gives the following account of the facts relating to this alchemist.

David Beuther, born in Saxony, had been raised under the very eyes of the elector Augustus of Saxony. who spent part of his life busying himself with Anne of Denmark, his wife, in the search for the great work. The prince worked in a magnificent laboratory which was part of the electoral castle. Having become skilled in this science, Beuther was admitted, in 1575, to the honor of working with his prince.

One day when he was alone in the laboratory, David Beuther discovered, by chance, hidden in a corner, a certain quantity of a gray powder which its label designated as the philosopher's stone. Such, however, was not the nature of the object discovered by the adept; it was undoubtedly an amalgam of gold or a gold-bearing compound which could play the role of this precious agent, since, by being destroyed by the action of heat, it allowed the gold to appear.

But, as the quantity of this powder was considerable, in whatever capacity it was, it constituted a treasure. This is what Beuther must have thought when, after reading on a sheet of parchment which enveloped his find, the way to use it, he saw the precious metal multiply in his happy hands. He communicated his discovery to two young companions in his work, Vertel and Heidier; and they soon began to lead a happy life together, thanks to the product of their easy industry. However, the Elector of Saxony, having left Dresden, brought with him Beuther. Deprived of the resources to which the common exploitation of Beuther's treasure had accustomed them, they wrote to him to demand from him a share in his wealth. But Beuther, whose precious supply had no doubt run out, found himself unable to respond to their request. Outraged at this refusal, and in revenge for his conduct, his ungrateful companions wrote to the prince to denounce everything. Pressed with questions and forced to face the facts,

Beuther admitted the facts. Vertel and Heidier; and they soon began to lead a happy life together, thanks to the product of their easy industry. However, the Elector of Saxony, having left Dresden, brought with him Beuther. Deprived of the resources to which the common exploitation of Beuther's treasure had accustomed them, they wrote to him to demand from him a share in his wealth. But Beuther, whose precious supply had no doubt run out, found himself unable to respond to their request. Outraged at this refusal, and in revenge for his conduct, his ungrateful companions wrote to the prince to denounce everything.

Pressed with questions and forced to face the facts, Beuther admitted the facts. Vertel and Heidier; and they soon began to lead a happy life together, thanks to the product of their easy industry. However, the Elector of Saxony, having left Dresden, brought Beuther with him. Deprived of the resources to which the common exploitation of Beuther's treasure had accustomed them, they wrote to him to demand from him a share in his wealth.

But Beuther, whose precious supply had undoubtedly been exhausted, found himself unable to respond to their request. Outraged at this refusal, and to take revenge for his conduct, his ungrateful companions wrote to the prince to denounce everything. Pressed with questions and forced to face the facts, Beuther admitted the facts. brought Beuther with him.

Deprived of the resources to which the common exploitation of Beuther's treasure had accustomed them, they wrote to him to demand from him a share in his wealth. But Beuther, whose precious supply had no doubt run out, found himself unable to respond to their request. Outraged at this refusal, and in revenge for his conduct, his ungrateful companions wrote to the prince to denounce everything.

Pressed with questions and forced to face the facts, Beuther admitted the facts. brought Beuther with him. Deprived of the resources to which the common exploitation of Beuther's treasure had accustomed them, they wrote to him to demand from him a share in his wealth. But Beuther, whose precious supply had undoubtedly been exhausted, found himself unable to respond to their request. Outraged at this refusal, and to take revenge for his conduct, his ungrateful companions wrote to the prince to denounce everything.

Pressed with questions and forced to face the facts, Beuther admitted the facts.

Outraged at this refusal, and in revenge for his conduct, his ungrateful companions wrote to the prince to denounce everything. Pressed with questions and forced to face the facts, Beuther admitted the facts. Outraged at this refusal, and in revenge for his conduct, his ungrateful companions wrote to the prince to denounce everything. Pressed with questions and forced to face the facts, Beuther admitted the facts.

The elector declared that he could, at a pinch, force the culprit to reveal his secret to him, but that he agreed to forgive him, requiring only that he give him a tenth of the quantities of gold and silver he had would make. Beuther had excellent reasons for not accepting the condition imposed by the elector. On the declaration of his refusal, he was arrested.

He entered his prison, cursing alchemy and swearing to renounce it forever. But the end of his misfortunes had not arrived. The prince hoped at first to obtain something from him with promises and flattering words; he assured the adept of all his favor if he would consent to yield to his prayers. But all was useless, and the prince, irritated by her resistance,

Beuther, who had been left free at intervals, was reinstated in his prison, on the notice which was transmitted to the elector that the follower was making arrangements to reach England. At the same time, the elector asked the court of Leipsick for a judgment against the felony of his pupil. In 1580, the Prussian court rendered judgment against Beuther, on the double charge of having broken his word and of having negligently fulfilled his duties as alchemist to the elector.

This judgment stated that Beuther should be considered the possessor of the philosopher's stone, and that consequently his secret would be extracted from him by torture; that, for having shown himself unfaithful to his prince, he would be beaten with rods, lose two fingers and spend the rest of his days in prison,
However, the elector hesitated to enforce such a severe decree. A remnant of tenderness for the young man who had grown up before her eyes, a vague hope of conquering his precious secret, made her resolve waver. It was on a Saturday evening that the condemned man received notification of the judgment of Leipsick; on Monday morning he received from the prince a letter thus framed:

“Beuther! give me back what you took from me, give me back what God and justice gave me; otherwise I will pronounce on your fate on Monday, and perhaps I will regret it later. Don't force me, I implore you, to push things to this extreme. In response to this appeal from the prince, Beuther wrote in large letters on the
walls of his prison:

“Cat locked up doesn’t catch mice!” » At the same time he wrote to the prince, promising to reveal everything if he was released. Having listened to this proposal, the Elector released Beuther from prison, and was reinstated in the Dresden laboratory, in the House of Gold, as it was called. They restored to him all the privileges, all the honors, which he had previously enjoyed; only the elector demanded that a man of his household, charged with supervising him, should remain constantly near him, assisting in all his operations and never losing sight of him.

It was in these new conditions that Beuther was forced to return to work. Despair inspired him with superhuman strength to find the terrible secret on which his existence depended. He tried a large number of different means, each time seeking to persuade the inflexible guardian always attached to his steps of his imaginary success. But the latter, difficult to convince, could only transmit to the prince the negative results of the experiments.

One day, the guard, having gone away for a few moments, left Beuther alone in the laboratory. On his return, he found the unfortunate follower lying lifeless on the floor: David Beuther had escaped the tortures of his situation by suicide.
After having seen so many of their unfortunate colleagues fall victims to the avarice of sovereigns, perish by the sword, be subjected to the most terrible torments, or end their days in the eternal shadow of a dungeon, the followers had understood the whole extent of the perils attached to the exercise of their art, and many of them, enlightened by the misfortune of their predecessors, or by their own adversities, had ended up losing all belief in alchemy.

They no longer hesitated to repeat, to characterize this dangerous science, the energetic words of the Abbot of Wiezenberg, John Clytemius, who wrote in the 16th century: Vanitas, fraus, dolus, sophisticatio, cupiditas, falsitas, mendacium, stultitïa, paupertas, desperatio, fuga, proscriptio et mendicitas, perdisceque sunt chemioe.

Gabriel Pénot, a French alchemist, born in the province of Guyenne, had spent his entire life and dissipated a considerable fortune defending the ideas of Paracelsus and the principles of Hermeticism. He had written ten works on these questions, and traveled throughout part of Europe as the devoted champion of these doctrines. In 1617, reduced to extreme poverty, he went to die, eaten away by vermin, in Switzerland, at the Yverdun hospital.

Many people who, at the noise of his name, had hastened to see him at the hospice, crowded around his bed in his last moments, and begged him, with joined hands and a prayer on their lips, to leave them alone. inheritance the precious secret of which he was possessor. The unfortunate would have liked to satisfy such a desire, but he could only protest his ignorance on this subject, and shed tears over the sad state to which his disastrous passion for a false science had reduced him, which he could only curse and detest.

His refusal exasperated the merciless witnesses of this heartbreaking scene which should have softened their hearts. Insults and threats followed supplications; finally they abandoned him angrily: “Die, greedy and wicked, who wants to take a useless secret to the grave with death!

Then, half expiring, Gabriel Pénot, getting up on his bed, sent, as a supreme curse to his persecutors, the wish that, for his revenge, God would one day inspire in them the resolution to become alchemists. and to shed tears over the sad state to which his disastrous passion for a false science had reduced him, which he was only to curse and detest. His refusal exasperated the pitiless witnesses of this heartbreaking scene which should have softened their hearts. Insults and threats succeeded supplications; finally they abandoned him in anger: "Die, you avaricious and wicked one, who wants to take a useless secret to the grave in death!"

Then, half expiring, Gabriel Pénot, getting up on his bed, sent, as a supreme curse to his persecutors, the wish that, for his revenge, God would one day inspire in them the resolution to become alchemists. and to shed tears over the sad state to which his disastrous passion for a false science had reduced him, which he was only to curse and detest. His refusal exasperated the pitiless witnesses of this heartbreaking scene which should have softened their hearts. Insults and threats succeeded supplications; finally they abandoned him in anger: "Die, you avaricious and wicked one, who wants to take a useless secret to the grave in death!"

Then, half expiring, Gabriel Pénot, getting up on his bed, sent, as a supreme curse to his persecutors, the wish that, for his revenge, God would one day inspire in them the resolution to become alchemists. Insults and threats followed supplications; finally they abandoned him angrily: “Die, greedy and wicked, who wants to take a useless secret to the grave with death! Then, half expiring, Gabriel Pénot, getting up on his bed, sent, as a supreme curse to his persecutors, the wish that, for his revenge, God would one day inspire in them the resolution to become alchemists. Insults and threats succeeded supplications; finally they abandoned him in anger: "Die, you avaricious and wicked one, who wants to take a useless secret to the grave in death!" Then, half expiring, Gabriel Pénot, getting up on his bed, sent, as a supreme curse to his persecutors, the wish that, for his revenge, God would one day inspire in them the resolution to become alchemists.

A scene approximately of this kind took place on the deathbed of the famous theosophist necromancer Cornelius Agrippa, who, in his last moments, bitterly deplored the follies of his career, and solemnly condemned the errors and lies of his colleagues. Moreover, Agrippa had not waited for this moment to condemn alchemy, and, in a magnificent pamphlet, Declamation on the uncertainty, vanity and abuse of the sciences, one of the strangest literary works of the 16th Century, he had painted a very expressive picture of the miserable conditions reserved for the alchemists of his time. The following features are particularly worthy of reproduction to characterize the sad disappointments that awaited the followers:

“The harmful coals,” said Cornelius Agrippa, “the sulfur, the dung, the poisons, and all hard work seem sweeter to you than honey, as long as you have consumed all your inheritance, furniture and heritage, and reduced them to ashes and smoke , provided that you promise with patience to see, as a reward for your long labors, these beautiful golden births, perpetual health and return to youth. Finally, having wasted the time and money you put into it, you find yourself old, loaded with years, dressed in rags, hungry, always smelling of sulfur, dyed and soiled with zinc and charcoal, and by the frequent handling of quick silver become paralytic, and having retained only the always distilling nose: moreover, so unhappy, that you would sell your lives and your very souls.

In short, these blowers experiment in themselves the metamorphosis and change they undertake to make on metals; for, from chemicals they become cacochymes, from beggar doctors, from soap makers, the joke of the people, manifest madmen, and the pastime of each one. And having not been able to be content in their young years to live in mediocrity, thus having abandoned themselves to the frauds and deceptions of the alchemists all their lives, they are forced, having become old, to suffer in great poverty; so that, instead of finding favor and mercy, in the calamitous and miserable state in which they find themselves, they have only the laughter and mockery of everyone. » beggar doctors, innkeepers, the farce of the people, manifest lunatics, and the pastime of everyone.

And having been unable to content themselves in their young years with living in mediocrity, thus having abandoned themselves to the frauds and deceptions of the alchemists all their lives, they are constrained, having become old, to belister in great poverty; so that, instead of finding favor and mercy, in the calamitous and miserable state in which they find themselves, they have only the laughter and the mockery of each one. » beggar doctors, innkeepers, the farce of the people, manifest lunatics, and the pastime of everyone.

And having been unable to content themselves in their young years with living in mediocrity, thus having abandoned themselves to the frauds and deceptions of the alchemists all their lives, they are constrained, having become old, to belister in great poverty; so that, instead of finding favor and mercy, in the calamitous and miserable state in which they find themselves, they have only the laughter and the mockery of each one. » to live in great poverty; so that, instead of finding favor and mercy, in the calamitous and miserable state in which they find themselves, they have only the laughter and mockery of everyone. » to live in great poverty; so that, instead of finding favor and mercy, in the calamitous and miserable state in which they find themselves, they have only the laughter and mockery of everyone. »

This picture, entirely taken from nature, renders useless any other development into which we could enter on the subject of the life of the alchemists; it completes the curious physiognomy of these men of whom we have tried to trace some little-known features.

1. Opera omnia, vol. XXI.
2. This author is the same servant of Siebenfreund, who related the fact in a writing printed in Hamburg in 1705, Quadratum alchymisticum, quoted by Schmieder.
3. Curiosities of literature, translation from English, by MT Bertin, t. I.
4. Hoëfer, History of Chemistry, t. I.
5. Book of the natural philosophy of metals, by Lord Bernard, Count of Marche Trevisana.
6. “Magister, quomodo succedit tibi?” When to empty-mus aliquid bonus? » Et non volentes expectare finem operis, dicent: “Nihil est, truffam esse, etc.” »

HISTORY OF THE MAIN METAL TRANSMUTATIONS

TO develop with proper detail the historical argument, favorite theme invoked by the adepts in favor of their science, we are going to relate the most remarkable events among those which have been designated under the name of facts of metallic transmutation. It is understood that we will only take as guides here serious writers who have taken care to support their narratives with precise documents and information. Such are G. de Hoghelande, in his Historiae aliquot transmutationis metallicoe, Lenglet-Dufresnoy, in his History of Hermetic Philosophy, and Schmieder in his curious work Gescbichte der Alchemie.

From the singular facts that we are going to try to revive, there will not come out, let us hasten to say, the proof that the philosopher's stone has been found.

On this question our opinion is very strong; and, although the present state of our chemical knowledge does not formally reject the possibility of such a result, we by no means believe that the great secret of hermetic science has ever been revealed to any elect in the world. long series of centuries where it has been the object of so much ardent research. We will take care to place, next to each of the events we will have to recount, the explanation which, in our opinion, best accounts for it. In a large number of cases, it is through the use of easily reportable fraud that the fact can be explained.

In other cases, followers acted in good faith, and the marvelous results which they saw reproduced were due to extraneous circumstances which escaped them, but which the present state of the chemical sciences makes it possible to grasp today. We will take care to show each time the source of the involuntary error into which the adepts and spectators who witnessed these prodigies fell.

These reserves established, we can approach the history of metallic transmutations. One will understand, after this reading, the deep emotion that these events aroused in Europe in the centuries of credulity and ignorance in the midst of which they appeared, and the influence that they must have exercised at that time on the imagination of men: universal credit, the immense empire which alchemy enjoyed for so long in Europe will then no longer have anything that should surprise.

The writers who have endeavored to transmit to us the various facts which we consider to be true transmutations, report a certain number of these events, which would have happened during the 12th and 13th centuries. They attribute successful screenings to various alchemists of that time, such as Arnauld de Villeneuve, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Alain de Lisle, and Albert the Great.

We will not go back to such remote times, because the testimonies which remain to us concerning these facts would be insufficient for the sincerity and the utility of a historical discussion. It is only from the 14th century that we will start the review that will occupy us. Besides, it is to this epoch that one of the most significant events in the splendor of Hermetic philosophy belongs.

It was then that the chronicle of Nicolas Flamel appeared, a strange chronicle, which gave so much popularity and repercussion to alchemical ideas. It is therefore by examining the transmutations attributed to Nicolas Flamel that we will begin the history of metallic transmutations.

CHAPTER I.

NICOLAS FLAMEL.

IT is not only in chronological order that Nicolas Flamel must be placed first on the list of the lucky prompters. The happy adept who left a memory not only alive, but almost venerated for more than four centuries, the one whose popular name has become embedded so deeply in the traditions and legends of our country, deserves, in many ways, to occupy the first place in the narratives of transmutatory science.

While most of the adepts whose existence we shall have to recall only find disappointment, ruin and despair in the practice of their art, Nicolas Flamel encounters nothing but happiness and serenity in his career. Far from ruining himself while working on the great work, we see him suddenly add treasures to his fortune. He possesses considerable wealth for the time, and which popular opinion will soon raise to fabulous proportions. He uses these riches in charitable endowments and in pious foundations which will survive him.

He builds churches and chapels on which he has his image engraved, accompanied by symbolic figures and mysterious crosses that the followers of future times will endeavor to decipher in order to find there the story of his life and the cabalistic description of the processes which led to the realization of the magisterium.

We have no precise information on the date or place of Flamel's birth. Most of his biographers say he was born in Pontoise; but none of them fixed the time of his birth. However, by bringing together a few dates that are easier to gather, we would undoubtedly find that the time of his birth should not be very far from the year 1330. Although his fortune was very mediocre, his parents were able to give him a education that today we would call liberal. Certain knowledge of letters was, in fact, necessary for him to come, as he did, to establish himself, still young, in the capital of the kingdom as a public writer, a profession which then embraced many works of a nature varied.

As no document can shed light on the first years of his life, the story of Flamel only begins, for us, at the moment when he appears, at the mass grave of the Innocents, among the public writers who, from time immemorial, had backed their stalls against these old buildings. However, the people of his corporation having later gone to establish themselves under the pillars of the Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie church, Flamel, following their example, moved his office there.

The young writer's business was already beginning to prosper; because we see, in this new neighborhood, two stalls: one occupied by copyists in his employ or by the students he trained in his art, the other where he ordinarily stayed himself. This stall, to which the modest and laborious writer always remained faithful in the midst of the riches he acquired later, offering nothing special except its excessive crampedness.

According to Sauval, it was no more than two and a half feet long and two feet wide; after the death of Flamel, it remained for a long time to be rented, and the parish of Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie could only with difficulty find a lessee at the rate of eight Parisian sols per year. It is in this narrow space that the honest artist lives his life. and the parish of Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie could only with difficulty find a buyer at the rate of eight Parisian sols per year. It is in this narrow space that the honest artist lives his life. and the parish of Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie could only with difficulty find a buyer at the rate of eight Parisian sols per year. It is in this narrow space that the honest artist lives his life.

Installed in his new establishment in the Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie district, Nicolas Flamel soon enters into a union which adds greatly to this initial ease to which he has already achieved. He married a widow who is believed to have been born in Paris, as Flamel himself is believed to have been born in Pontoise, the origin of one being no more certain than that of the other.

But, apart from this detail, Lady Pernelle is a person of merit, thrifty, prudent, wise and experienced, beautiful or at least pleasant still, as much as a twice-widowed woman can appear, in the eyes of a young husband, having passed forty years, no children and a dowry of which biographers forget to give us the figure, but which must be estimated fairly honestly according to its immediate effects on the situation of the community. A vacant plot of land appeared at one of the corners of the old rue Marivaux; the couple bought it and built a house opposite their shop. However, building, in the bourgeoisie of the 14th century, as in that of today, is the sure sign, the emblematic manifestation of a fortune in the process of being consolidated.

There is, however, a title which provides some clarification on the true state of Flamel's fortune at this time: it is the act by which, three years after their union, the two spouses made a mutual gift of all their property, so that each of them “could have an honest life according to their state”. From the enumeration of the goods which make up this mutual endowment, we see that the household's resources did not yet exceed mediocrity.

Thus Nicolas Flamel, established in the new writers' district, has just made a marriage of convenience; In this he showed himself to be a positive man, and this quality will never fail him, although it must appear original in an alchemist. It is true that he has still only touched the practices of this occult science very far.

If, wishing to expand the circle of his businesses, he has joined his profession as a writer to the bookselling industry, if he undertakes a considerable number of works in the art of writing, in which he excels, he still only works in broad daylight and on known materials. While laborious activity reigns in its shops, his house is filled with beautiful books, richly illuminated and which sell well; he surrounds himself with numerous students who pay for his lessons because of the fashion and talent of their master.

In all this, Flamel found the means to enrich himself, but very few opportunities to come into contact with the science of the Hermetic philosophers. What can only support the desire that he feels, like all the enlightened men of his time, to become an expert in the practices of alchemy, are the opportunities that are often offered to him to buy, to sell, to copy, perhaps even to read some hermetic works, then so numerous and so sought after.

It must even be admitted that our artist had begun to indulge in some readings of this kind, One night, says the legend to which history will now frequently give way, Nicolas Flamel was sleeping in a deep sleep, when an angel appeared to him, holding in his hand a book of venerable antiquity and magnificent appearance:

“Flamel,” said the angel, “look at this book, you understand nothing in it, neither you nor many others, but you will see one day what no one could see. »

And as Flamel stretched out his hand to receive the precious gift he believed was being offered to him, both the angel and the book disappeared in a cloud of gold.
However, the celestial prediction took a long time to come true. The angel seemed to have forgotten his promise so completely that Flamel probably would not have given it any further thought, without an event which came to awaken his memories at the same time as his hopes. One day in the year 1357, he bought an old book from a stranger, which he recognized, on first inspection, as the one from his dream. In one of the works that tradition attributes to him (1), he explains in detail about this discovery.

Since the priests and the scribes could open this book, Nicolas Flamel had the right to look into it, for, if he were not a priest, which would have been repugnant to the innocence and the goodness of his soul, it cannot be denied that he was a scribe. What stopped him,

Once in possession of this precious book, Flamel spent days and nights studying it; he hid it from all eyes, and, although he could hear nothing about it, he was no less jealous of his possession. Only, in her worried tenderness, his beloved wife was alarmed to see him sad and to often hear him sigh in solitude. Faced with the gentle insistence of Pernelle's pressing questions, he could not resist confiding his secret to her. She kept it faithfully, and if on this occasion she was of no help to him, forced to share her sterile admiration for these beautiful faces about which she understood nothing, she at least gave her husband the consolation of talking about them in his mind. together with delight, and to seek together the means to discover its hidden meaning.

This state of mind was all the more painful for Flamel, as he thought he read very clearly in the first pages all the operations to be put into practice, and saw himself stopped only by his ignorance of the raw material. What he knew least, or rather what he didn't know at all, was his beginnings. The help of the angel of his vision would have come here very timely; but this supernatural intervention, so formally announced, always failed our alchemist, who nevertheless would have well deserved it, for he was a good man and a man of faith.

The lack of success that Nicolas Flamel withdrew from his first researches, made him understand that his knowledge alone would be insufficient to penetrate the secret of hermetic science. He therefore resolved to invoke the knowledge of some people more enlightened than himself. In the most conspicuous place of his house, he exhibited, not the very book which he always wished to conceal from all eyes, but a copy, faithfully executed by him, of its principal figures. Several great clerics, who frequented his home, had the leisure to admire them at their ease, but no one could succeed in deciphering their meaning. And, as it is customary to be skeptical and mocking towards things that we do not understand or that we are ignorant of,

However, among the visitors there was a graduate in medicine, named Master Anseaulme, who took the matter seriously. A great lover of alchemy, Master Anseaulme really wanted to know the Jew's book, and it cost Flamel a lot of protests and lies to persuade him that he did not have it. Reasoning therefore on the copy which he had before his eyes, the licensee gave the following explanation of the cabalistic figures.

According to Master Anseaulme, the first figure represented Time, which devours everything, and the six written leaves meant that it was necessary to use the space of six years to perfect the stone; after which it was necessary to “turn the clock and cook no more.” » And, as Flamel allowed himself to object that this explanation was beside the real subject of the figures, which had only been painted, as was expressly said in the book, only to demonstrate and teach the first agent, Master Anseaulme replied that this six-year action was like a second agent.

He added that, moreover, the first agent was also truly represented by the white and heavy water (probably quicksilver), which could not be fixed; whose feet could not be cut off, that is to say, removing volatility only by this long decoction in the very pure blood of young children; that, in this blood, quicksilver, combining with gold and silver, was first converted with them into a grass similar to that which was painted, then afterwards, by corruption, into serpents, which finally, being perfectly dried and cooked by the fire, were reduced to a gold powder which would be the stone.

If we ask what was the success of the work undertaken on this triumphant explanation, we have the certificate that Flamel gave himself to immortalize the sagacity of the licentiate Anseaulme: “This was the cause,” he told us
, that during the long space of twenty-one years, I made a thousand quarrels, not however with blood, which is wicked and vile;

for I found in my book that the philosophers called blood, the mineral spirit which is in the metals, mainly in the sun, the moon and Mercury, to the assembly of which I always tended. »

Thus Nicolas Flamel spent more than twenty years verifying the licentiate's hermetic comments through his research. If such a researcher finds nothing, we certainly have no reproach to address to him. Although undertaken with a view to a chimerical work, a work executed with such constancy seems to us as worthy of interest as all that patience and genius can produce in the sciences of our time. Like the alchemist of ancient times, the scientist of our day devotes himself to the passionate pursuit of an idea; we qualify this idea as a chimera as long as it has not been realized, it is like a first agent whose existence genius guesses without being able to demonstrate it, a principle which already reigns, but for him alone, and whose 'obscure apperception made,

We cannot allow a good inspiration to last too long, provided that it finally arrives. The one that presented itself, after twenty years of work, to the mind of our alchemist, was as happy as it was natural. Reflecting on the origin of his book, Nicolas Flamel decided that he had to ask the meaning of it from some member of the nation of Abraham, because, to explain a Jew, it is good to take another Jew. But, in all his undertakings, our pious character never lost sight of the help he could draw from divine power. He therefore resolved to make a vow of pilgrimage to God and to Mr. Saint James of Galicia,

So here is our follower on his way to Spain. Equipped with the consent of Female, he wears the staff and the pilgrim's habit, as befits one who travels for the fulfillment of a vow. He did not forget to take an extract of the paintings from the famous book which, for nothing in the world, he would neither show nor move. It was in the year 1378 that Flamel made this journey which was to have such a decisive result for his destiny.

His wish fulfilled with all the necessary devotion, and Monsieur Saint Jacques duly disinterested, our alchemist was able to freely occupy himself with the business which attracted him to Spain. But, despite the protection of Saint James, he probably did not find the man he was looking for, because his stay in these regions lasted almost a year. As he was heading north to return to France, he passed through the town of Léon, where he met a merchant from Boulogne, who had a friend who was a Jewish doctor, but converted to Christianity.

Upon renunciation of these qualities, Nicolas Flamel hastened to get acquainted with the Jewish doctor. Master Canches, that is the name he gave him, was a consummate cabalist, well versed in the sublime sciences. No sooner had he cast his eyes on the extract of the figures preserved by Flamel than, delighted with astonishment and joy, he asked the adept if he knew of the book which contained them. Master Canches spoke in Latin:

Flamel replied in the same language that he could give good news about this book to anyone who could explain its figures to him. On this, and without further speech, Master Canches immediately began to give the explanation of all these emblems in such a way as to leave his interlocutor in no doubt about the accuracy of his interpretation.

Flamel replied in the same language that he could give good news about this book to anyone who could explain its figures to him. On this, and without further speech, Master Canches immediately began to give the explanation of all these emblems in such a way as to leave his interlocutor in no doubt about the accuracy of his interpretation.

Flamel replied in the same language that he could give good news about this book to anyone who could explain its figures to him. On this, and without further speech, Master Canches immediately began to give the explanation of all these emblems in such a way as to leave his interlocutor in no doubt about the accuracy of his interpretation.

Flamel's heart pounded violently as he listened to the long-awaited wonderful commentary. But, great as was his joy, it was still far from equaling that of the Jew. Indeed, if the alchemist could believe himself to have finally reached the supreme goal of his long and painful labors, to this first agent, to this philosopher's stone which contained so many natural virtues and miraculous power, Master Canches saw himself on the trail of 'a precious book among all books, unique, untraceable, lost work of one of the princes of the cabal, and whose title, the only thing known about it for many centuries, had remained in veneration among the most learned teachers of the nation of Abraham.

We can guess that Flamel did not experience much resistance when he suggested that the Israelite doctor accompany him to Paris to complete his explanation of the text of the book itself. So they set out together for France. But it was written that the poor Jew, experiencing the fate of the ancient founder of his religion, could not enter the promised land. Arriving in Orléans, a few days from Paris, he fell ill, and, despite all the care that his friend continued to lavish on him, he expired in his arms after seven days of illness. Flamel piously returned to him the last duties.

Back in Paris, Flamel was again forced to work for three years on the incomplete instructions he had received from the Jew. At the end of this time, he reached the goal so ardently desired; and with the help of Perenelle, who took part in all his operations, he finally composed the sublime stone of the sages.

Whatever opinion we hold on this remarkable event in the life of our alchemist, it is certain that his fortune showed itself to be prodigiously multiplied from the period that we fix as that of his projections. The two spouses, already old, without children and without hope of having any, wanted to recognize the graces that God had granted them, and resolved to devote their wealth to works of charity and mercy. First, their little house on rue Marivaux became a place of asylum open to widows and orphans in distress.

The two spouses provided aid to the poor - they founded hospitals, built or repaired cemeteries, raised the gate of Sainte-Geneviève-des-Ardents, and endowed the Quinze-Vingts establishment - which, in memory of this fact, came every year to the Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie church to pray for their benefactors, and continued this pious pilgrimage until 1789. Flamel and Pernelle still grant endowments to a large number of churches, but particularly to that of Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie. We found in the archives of this parish, in addition to the will of Nicolas Flamel, more than forty acts which testify to the considerable donations he had made to this church.

To this list of Flamel's foundations, we must add his constructions at the mass grave of the Innocents which traced through their symbolic decoration the emblems of art which, according to tradition, was the origin of his fortune.

Yielding, in this, to human weakness, Flamel had his image sculpted on the various monuments due to his liberality, accompanied by an escutcheon showing a hand holding a writing desk in the shape of a coat of arms. One of these statues was found at Sainte-Geneviève-des-Ardents, under the portal he had built there; we found two in Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie, namely: one on the small door of the church, rue des Ecrivains, and another on the pillar of his house; one at the mass grave of the Innocents, of which he had had one of the arcades built on the Rue de la Lingerie side; there was still one at the old church of the Saint-Gervais hospital, a small chapel that Flamel had built on rue de la Tixeranderie, and two on the facade of a beautiful house that he had built on rue de la Tixeranderie. Montmorency.

Flamel was almost always represented, on these small statues, on his knees and with his hands clasped. “We saw him at Sainte-Geneviève-des-Ardents,” said Abbé Villain, “with a long dress, a long coat turned up over the right shoulder, the hood half pulled down around the collar, with the cornette long and hanging very low: with this a belt, to which the writing desk was attached, a sign of the profession of which the writer prided himself. »

In this gallery, raised for the memories of posterity, Flamel had not forgotten the image of his dear Pernelle. We saw her represented with her husband, on the pediment of the arcade of the mass graves. She was kneeling at the feet of Saint Peter, while Flamel was kneeling at the feet of Saint Paul; in the middle stood the Virgin carrying the Child Jesus. Below was a cornice laden with paintings of sculpture depicting the Last Judgment; the husband and wife were still there. They were still seen everywhere both on the stained glass windows or on the facade of the buildings taking their place in various allegories. On the arcade of the charnel house of the Innocents, one read verses below the cipher of Nicolas Flamel; they were undoubtedly of his composition. Here they are as we could decipher them in 1760:

“Alas! dying suits
Without remedy man and woman
... We remember:
Alas! dying is suitable
The body...
Tomorrow may be dampened
By fault...
Dying is suitable,...

Without remedy for men and women. All these constructions, which time has not yet entirely destroyed, all these benefits whose
memory still lives, all these liberalities of the pious Flamel, whatever arithmetic we use to diminish and reduce them, always suppose very great riches. Let's try to find its true origin.

A young scholar of the School of Charters, M. Auguste Valet, who has devoted himself to curious research on the subject with which we are dealing, ends his work with this judicious reflection: "In general," he says, "everywhere you see a legend, however erroneous, however amplified, you can be sure, by getting to the bottom of it, that you will find a story there.

Let us add that, if it were otherwise, we would have to reject from the domain of positive facts all events which are not attributed to princes and lords, to generals and ministers, that is to say to men who, in their century, exercised great public offices. History properly so called gives its attention and its honors only to this class of characters; as for the modest existence of those who held no rank in the State, it is transmitted to us only by tradition, by particular memoirs, by notices or biographies which are, or which, with time, become legends.

Because one distrusts the extraneous details with which tradition has loaded their history, or the false chronology which obscures them, will one declare that these men did nothing, and that everything is controverted in the works? written on their account, as in those attributed to them? Are we finally going to pronounce that their very existence is problematic?

Such, however, is the extreme consequence to which one would be led by a criticism in which skepticism would prevail too much over discernment. It is in this idea that a legend always hides a story, that we are going to submit to a rapid examination the so controversial question of the source of the wealth of the famous writer of the rue Marivaux.

We find ourselves, with regard to Flamel's fortune, in the presence of two opinions which exclude each other, although we find them united among the critics, who, following the example of the abbot Villain and Gabriel Naudé, applied themselves to discover the origin of the opulence of Flamel. For fear of placing too much faith in the legend, we either try to strip Flamel of his quality as a hermetic philosopher, or else we contest his riches, that is to say, we diminish them to the point to deprive them of the proportions and character of a fortune. It is this last opinion on which the Abbé Villain insisted the most in his Histoire critique de Nicolas Flamel.

The little reasons, the small figures crowd under his pen to diminish the importance of the endowments of the two spouses: the Abbé Villain read somewhere that the portal of the church of Sainte-Geneviève-des-Ardents, in the construction of which Flamel took part, was gave alms of several (2). — At that time, the fathom for the construction of walls, including all the materials, cost only twenty-four sous. —

It appears from Perenelle's will that in 1399 the two spouses had only about four thousand three hundred and some pounds of revenue. - All in good time ; one should however ask oneself, as regards the last point, if, from the fourteenth century to the eighteenth century, the value of silver had not depreciated so much that a sum, considerable for a bourgeois of the time of Flamel, was mediocre for the readers of Abbé Villain. There is, however, one fact which completely destroys this objection of the critic, it is the date which he cites from Perenelle's will.

In the year 1399, in fact, the endowments, the annuities to the hospitals and churches were made, the works of mercy were accomplished; all the constructions, both in Boulogne and in Paris, had been erected at the expense of the liberal writer, except for the portal of Sainte-Gene-viève-des-Ardents and an arch which, twelve or thirteen years later, after the death of Pernelle, he added to the mass grave of the Innocents. If, in 1399, the two spouses had little fortune left, it was for the simple reason that they had spent prodigiously. This feature, which Father Villain forgets to point out, nevertheless had its importance in the question.

But by what means had Nicolas Flamel been able to provide for so many expenses?
This is where criticism needs to take advantage of the contrary view of Flamel's riches. We are willing to agree that they must have been considerable; but immediately, and to reject their hermetic origin, we look for an illicit and even criminal source. Flamel, says, after other writers, Mr. Doctor Hoëfer, in his History of Chemistry, Flamel made usury, he lent to the small week; he found himself in contact with a large number of Jews, and, probably, he will have enriched himself by attributing to himself the deposits which they entrusted to him during the times of their persecution. However, not only are these imputations entirely devoid of proof, but everything that we know historically about Flamel's character and actions contributes to clearing his memory of such an accusation.

We are, of course, very far from thinking that the good man Flamel ever discovered the philosopher's stone; we believe it all the less, since we find in him all the qualities and all the means which make the philosopher's stone superfluous for the acquisition of great wealth. Let us remember the honest and solid position that Nicolas Flamel already occupied well before the time when, according to legend, he made his first projection.

The art of the writer, in which he was a master, had the importance and held the place of printing before it was invented. We have seen that at the same time Flamel was a bookseller, and sworn bookseller of the University, another profession in which he also prospered.

If it cannot be disputed that there was formerly, and there are still today, both in the bookstore and in the printing industry, several millionaire houses, what difficulty will we find in admitting that, bringing together the two industries, the house of the Flamel couple rose to the same degree of fortune for the time in which they lived? While occupying himself, like his contemporaries, with the cultivation of a chimerical art, Nicolas Flamel did not neglect the work of a more assured product, and this small shop in Saint-Jacques-la- Boucherie, which was only available for rent after his death, can even be taken as proof that the prudent public writer had never given up his profession. bringing together the two industries, the house of the Flamel couple rose to the same level of fortune for the time in which they lived? While occupying himself, like his contemporaries, with the cultivation of a chimerical art, Nicolas Flamel did not neglect the work of a more assured product, and this small shop in Saint-Jacques-la- Boucherie, which was only available for rent after his death, can even be taken as proof that the prudent public writer had never given up his profession.

bringing together the two industries, the house of the Flamel couple rose to the same level of fortune for the time in which they lived? While occupying himself, like his contemporaries, with the cultivation of a chimerical art, Nicolas Flamel did not neglect the work of a more assured product, and this small shop in Saint-Jacques-la- Boucherie, which was only available for rent after his death, can even be taken as proof that the prudent public writer had never given up his profession.

Thus, unless there is a bias towards treating him as guilty, we should not look for another source of his opulence than this long career of work and business, in the course of which a skillful and active like him, aided by the help of a attentive and vigilant wife, was able to achieve considerable profits each year that no major domestic responsibilities came to affect. In this house, there are no children to bring up and provide for; habits of order which make labor more and more fruitful by providing it with the increasing impulse which it receives from its own carefully saved products; add finally a simplicity of life which went until austerity, that these habits were in conformity with the tastes of Flamel,

A fact, which history has preserved for us, proves at the same time that, already during his lifetime, the extraordinary fortune of Flamel was a notorious thing, and that at the same time the honest writer had kept in the midst of his riches a moderation even more extraordinary than his fortune. Struck by everything that was said about Flamel's wealth and liberalities, King Charles VI thought it necessary to send a master of requests to his home to ascertain the fact.

Monsieur de Cramoisy, who was charged with this mission, found the philosopher living poorly in his modest shop, and using earthenware as usual, like the humblest of artisans. Cramoisy reported to the king the results of his investigation, and the honest artist was not worried. wear and tear, this odious imputation that we did not fear to place on the memory of Flamel, cannot be reconciled with such simplicity of morals and habits. Moreover, we must either completely deny the existence of a character, or accept him with the features under which tradition represents him. Now, how could a religious, humane, charitable man - history itself does not dispute any of these virtues in Nicolas Flamel - want to enrich himself by a means that religion and charity equally condemn?

It is still claimed that Nicolas Flamel was able to enrich himself by appropriating the deposits or debts of proscribed Jews. This opinion requires a short examination. During Flamel's lifetime, the Jews were persecuted three times, that is to say expelled from the kingdom, then recalled, in return for money. Now, in 1346, the date of the first persecution, Flamel was only a boy of fifteen or sixteen years old. In 1354, the date of the second, he was just beginning his small establishment as a public writer, and no one spoke of his fortune.

“This fellow,” said Lenglet Dufresnoy, “would he have gone to Spain to look for Jews if he himself had robbed them and stripped them of their property? » We could add that if Flamel went to find Jews in Spain, This is because he was undoubtedly able to give them a good account of the mandate they would have entrusted to him when they left France. But all that one could advance in this respect would lack proof, and, in particular, this opinion that Flamel would have received, like a kind of banker, the power of attorney of the proscribed Jews to touch their debts, is only one a conjecture on which we can hardly stop. Indeed, long before Flamel's trip to Spain, the Jews had returned to France, where their banishment, their recall, the confirmation and extension of their privileges, were, with the alteration of currencies, the great financial means of the time: governments alone robbed the Jews.

Moreover, from extension to extension, they had been granted an uninterrupted stay of more than thirty years in the kingdom, when, in 1394, Charles VI banished them from it in perpetuity. This third persecution of the Jews took place, in truth, during the lifetime of Flamel, but it is posterior to a great number of its foundations. It must be admitted, however, that in this circumstance he could honestly have made some considerable gain with the Jews.

The ordinance of 1394, different from all those previously brought against them, had a purely religious and political character. By banishing them, she was not robbing them, and what proves it well is that all their debts had to be paid to them (3). » Now, to recover these debts, they necessarily needed an agent or some sort of banker. If we want to believe that Flamel, whose well-known probity and solvency were to inspire complete confidence in the Jews, received from them this important mandate, and was able to enrich himself greatly from all the rebates which would have been granted to him on the sums recovered by his care, we have not nothing to object to this new conjecture, except that it is entirely gratuitous, for it does not belong to tradition and it is not confirmed by any historical induction.

But what we would like to destroy and erase from all minds is the suspicion, not gratuitous, but absurd, that Flamel appropriated the debts or deposits of the proscribed Jews. Would not, in this case, many complaints have been raised against him? And the unfaithful depositary, if he could have failed to reckon with his conscience, would he not have had to reckon severely with the king's justice? Charles VI, who had only pronounced the banishment of the Jews, would undoubtedly not have left unpunished in an individual an act of spoliation from which he himself had wished to abstain.

The last years of Flamel's life were devoted to the composition of various hermetic works, by means of which he flattered himself to spread among the public the opinion, which moreover completely prevailed, of the high degree of his knowledge in science. hermetic. In 1399, he wrote, it is said, for the first time, the Explanation of hieroglyphic figures, a book which he completed in 1413, the very year of Pernelle's death.

In 1409, he composed in verse his Philosophical Summary, which was reprinted in 1735 in the third volume of the Roman de la Rose. We do not know in what year Desire desired and Treatise on Lavures were composed. Let us pause for a moment on this latest work. We have already cited the first lines of this manuscript, which begins as follows: “Cy begins the true practice of the noble science of alkymy; and which continues with this subtitle: The desired Desire and the price that none can prize, of all the philosophers composed, and of the books of the ancients taken and drawn, etc. It is this passage from the manuscript of the Lavures, written entirely by the hand of Flamel, which seems to contain in abridged form the titles or designations of the other books composed by him or published under his name at various times.

Let us hasten to say it, most of the works whose titles we have just cited are apocryphal; only we find there many true facts concerning Flamel. For the authors of these books, this was a condition of success which must not have been more neglected than it is in various pseudonymous memoirs of our time, which, full of irrefutable facts, often sin only through authenticity. This is how the Book of Hieroglyphic Figures is generally regarded as the work of the translator P. Arnauld, because the Latin, from which he claims to have translated it, has not been seen anywhere. However, when we find in this book such a faithful translation and such a laborious explanation of the figures that Flamel had painted or sculpted on the fourth arch of the charnel house of the Innocents, it is impossible to consider it as absolutely false in all the rest, and notably in what it relates to the labors and the interior life of the two spouses. Father Arnauld's work is undoubtedly the paraphrase of a lost manuscript by Nicolas Flamel.

Nicolas Flamel was buried in the church of Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie. He had, during his lifetime, paid the costs of his burial, whose place he had designated in front of the crucifix and the Blessed Virgin, and where, twelve times a year, after the services founded for him, all the priests had to go , in surplice, throw holy water on him. He had also previously composed and figured the inscription which was to be placed on one of the pillars above his tomb, and which, according to his will, was executed as follows: The Savior was depicted holding the ball of the world between Saint Peter and Saint Paul. Below this image we read:

"The late NICOLAS FLAMEL, formerly a writer, left by his will, to the work of this church, certain annuities and houses which he acquired and purchased during his lifetime, to perform certain divine service, and distributions of money each year by alms, affecting the Quinze-Vingts, Hôtel-Dieu, and other churches and hospitals in Paris. Be prayed for the Departed. »

On an extended scroll we read these words:
Domine Deus, in tua misericordiâ speravi (Lord God, I have hoped in your mercy.).
Below was the image of a half-consumed corpse, and this inscription:
From earth I came and to earth returns:
The soul returns to you, JHV, who forgives sins.

Pernelle, who had preceded her husband to the tomb, had also taken care of his own funeral; she had even paid for the expense of the lamp to be devoted to it. But Pernelle does not give us here a lofty idea of ​​its magnificence. She had set the price of the dinner on the day of the funeral, to which, according to custom, all relatives and neighbors had to be invited, at four pounds sixteen Parisian sols. The total expense of the ceremony was to amount to eighteen livres ten Parisis deniers, and at the end of the year would cost only eight livres seventeen sols.

Nicolas Flamel was therefore, as we said at the beginning of this chapter, the happiest of prompters. His happiness even reached limits which could not enter into his hopes, because the followers, enthusiastic about his successes, granted him the privilege of immortality. If we are to believe the civil status, Flamel died in 1418; but many writers affirm that, full of life at that time, he only disappeared from Paris to join Pernelle, who, five years earlier, had disappeared to go to Asia. This opinion spread as far as the East, where it still existed in the seventeenth century. This is at least what Paul Lucas reports in the account of his trip to Asia Minor. This tourist expresses himself thus:

“At Bournous-Bachi, having had an interview with the dervis of the Usbecs on Hermetic philosophy, this Levantine told me that true philosophers possessed the secret of extending the term of their existence up to a thousand years and of protecting themselves from all the diseases. Finally, I spoke to him of the illustrious Flamel, and I told him that, despite the philosopher's stone, he was dead in all his forms. At this name, he began to laugh at my simplicity. As I had almost started to believe him on the rest, I was extremely surprised to see him doubting what I was advancing. Realizing my surprise, he asked me in the same tone if I was good enough to believe that Flamel was dead. 'No, no,' he said to me, 'you are mistaken, Flamel is alive; neither he nor his wife yet know what death is. It is less than three years since I left them both in India, and he is one of my faithful friends. »

After this preamble, the dervis tells a long story of how Flamel and Pernelle slipped away from Paris, and of the life they both lead in the East.

“This story,” adds the naive Lucas, “appeared to me, and it is indeed, very singular. I was all the more surprised because it was made to me by a Turk who I thought had never set foot in France. For the rest, I only relate it as a historian, and I even pass over several things even less credible, which he nevertheless told me in an affirmative tone. I will content myself with remarking that people usually have too low an idea of ​​the science of the Turks, and that the one of whom I speak is a man of superior genius. »

Let us add that in May 1818 there was found in Paris a joker or a madman who claimed to be the real Nicolas Flamel, the fortunate follower who had made the projection four centuries earlier. The alchemist had established himself at rue de Cléry, no. 22;

he made gold at will and proposed to open a course in hermetic science, for which anyone could register for the modest sum of three hundred thousand francs. After this last advertisement, we no longer heard from the follower of rue Marivaux.
Many people imagined, after the death of Nicolas Flamel, that there must be treasures buried in the house he had always lived in.

All his expenses could not have exhausted the innumerable sums that this adept had accumulated at home, having the ability to produce gold according to his desires. These well-advised people had undoubtedly read in Diodorus of Sicily that Symandius, king of Egypt, possessor of the same secret, had his tomb surrounded by a circle of solid gold, the circumference of which was three hundred and sixty-five cubits. , and each cubit of which formed a golden cube. The same Symandius had himself represented on the peristyle of one of his palaces, offering to the gods the gold and silver that he produced each year, and the sum of which, in round numbers, amounted to one hundred and thirty-one billion two hundred million mines.

A former friend of Flamel, who thoroughly owned his hermetic authors, went to find the provost of the city of Paris, and declared, as a matter of conscience, that Flamel had made him depositary of certain sums, on condition of using them for repairs to houses that had belonged to the deceased. He particularly offered to spend three thousand pounds to restore the house on rue Marivaux. As this house was very dilapidated, the magistrates took our man at his word, who, at the height of his wishes, hastened to have excavations carried out; then he began to meditate on the hieroglyphs, to split the stones and to scrutinize the joints of the rubble. But history records that it was for his troubles and his costs.

1. The book of hieroglyphic figures by Nicolas Flamel, translated from Latin into French by I. Arnauld, sieur de la Chevalerie, gentleman from Poitevin
2. Critical history of Nicolas Flamel, Paris, 1761.
3. Jews in France, by M. Théophile Halley, in-8°, 1847.

CHAPTER II.

EDWARD KELLEY.

TOWARDS the end of the 16th century, a time when lawyers were already quite disreputable in England, there was in Lancaster, others say in London, a notary disparaged above all by the productive industries which he attached to the acts of his ministry. Talbot was his name. Born in Worcester in 1555, he applied himself in his youth to the study of the ancient English language, and became very adept at it. No one was better than him at deciphering old titles, at resuscitating, for the benefit of his clients, rights buried in the dust of registries. Not only could he read all kinds of ancient writings, but he excelled at imitating them. This latter talent exposed him to dangerous solicitations which, to his misfortune, he was not always able to reject.

Too well rewarded, his zeal knew no bounds; Talbot began to falsify titles, and even fabricate them in the interest of his clients. Pursued for these facts, and convicted of forgery, he was banished from the city. The magistrates, wanting to teach all his colleagues a lesson about him, had even ordered that both of his ears be cut off, and this sentence was carried out (1).

It was undoubtedly in this circumstance that Talbot changed his name, in order to escape the disreputable notoriety of his adventure. The fugitive resolved to retire to Wales, where he understood the language perfectly. He stopped in a mountain village.

At the inn where he was staying, he was shown, as a curious object, an old manuscript that the inhabitants could not manage to decipher. Having examined it, the ex-notary recognized at first glance that it was written in the ancient language of the country and had as its object the transmutation of metals.

Without showing any curiosity that would have aroused distrust, he inquired about the origin of this book and learned that it had been found in the tomb of a Catholic bishop formerly buried in a nearby church. The discovery of this manuscript related to one of the last and saddest periods of these religious wars which marked England's transition from Catholicism to Protestantism. Under Queen Elizabeth, the impious fury of religious exaltation led some fanatics to the point of violating tombs.

It was an excess of this kind that led to the discovery of the manuscript. The innkeeper of this village, imagining, like everyone else, that the bishop having died extremely rich, one could find treasures hidden in his tomb, had broken, with the help of his friends, the pious monument. But their sacrilegious expectation was disappointed, for the tomb contained nothing of value.

There we found only a handwritten book accompanied by two small ivory balls. Furious to see their hopes disappointed, they violently threw one of these balls which, when breaking, let escape a very heavy red powder contained in its interior. Most of this powder was thus lost. The other ball, also hollow and welded like the first, contained a white powder which was disdained, and for this reason, preserved entirely. All this loot seemed so little that they left it with the innkeeper in exchange for a glass of wine.

The only benefit the latter got from it was reduced, as we saw above, to showing it to strangers who stopped by his house. As for the ball that remained intact, it had long been abandoned, like a toy, for the amusement of his children. let out a very heavy red powder contained in its interior. The greater part of this powder was thus lost. The other ball, also hollow and welded like the first, contained a white powder which was disdained, and for this reason, preserved entirely. All this booty seemed so trifling that they left it with the innkeeper for a glass of wine.

The only advantage that the latter derived from it was reduced, as we have seen above, to showing it to strangers who stopped in his house. As for the ball which remained intact, it had long since been abandoned, like a toy, for the amusement of her children. released a very heavy red powder contained in its interior. Most of this powder was thus lost. The other ball, also hollow and welded like the first, contained a white powder which was disdained, and for this reason, preserved entirely. All this loot seemed so little that they left it with the innkeeper in exchange for a glass of wine.

The only advantage that the latter derived from it was reduced, as we have seen above, to showing it to strangers who stopped in his house. As for the ball which remained intact, it had long since been abandoned, like a toy, for the amusement of her children. contained a white powder which was disdained, and for this reason, preserved entirely. All this booty seemed so trifling that they left it with the innkeeper for a glass of wine.

The only advantage that the latter derived from it was reduced, as we have seen above, to showing it to strangers who stopped in his house. As for the ball which remained intact, it had long since been abandoned, like a toy, for the amusement of her children. contained a white powder which was disdained, and for this reason entirely preserved. All this booty seemed so trifling that they left it with the innkeeper for a glass of wine.

The only advantage that the latter derived from it was reduced, as we have seen above, to showing it to strangers who stopped in his house. As for the ball which remained intact, it had long since been abandoned, like a toy, for the amusement of her children.

The ex-notary made a case of these two objects, because he had read in the manuscript that the two balls were of significant value. He carelessly offered a guinea which was eagerly accepted by the innkeeper, happy to give up this useless relic for this beautiful grain of millet.

Talbot, in many Hermetic works, is described as a scholar. We have already seen what his science consisted of: it was that of a good archivist and an overly skilled paleographer. But he did not possess the first notion of chemistry or transmutatory philosophy. While reading his old manuscript wonderfully, he was therefore deprived of any means of taking advantage of it, and to highlight his acquisition, he needed to find an expert associate in hermetic works. His former friend, Doctor Jean Dee, an honorable man as well as a scholar, seemed suitable for this role.

He wrote to him, and upon his favorable response, he went to find him in London. We know positively that he made this journey under the name of Kelley, and it is for the first time that, in the story of his adventures, we find it referred to under this assumed name. This precaution of a pseudonym adopted to enter London, would seem to indicate that the latter city, and not Lancaster, had been the scene of his misfortunes with justice.

Doctor Dee had no difficulty in recognizing the nature and value of his friend's find. It was, indeed, a rich supply of philosopher's stone, or, to speak more in accordance with the facts, it was a gold-bearing compound in which the gold, concealed by a chemical combination, made it possible to reproduce all the prodigies attributed to this famous arcana. Indeed, a first attempt, carried out at a goldsmith's, was a marvelous success. However, the two partners considered it imprudent to continue their operations in London: Kelley constantly feared for Talbot there. So they left the city and embarked for Germany (2).

We will only find them in 1585, in Prague, capital of Bohemia, and we can also say the same of alchemy, which, during a succession of three emperors in this century and the next, found encouragement in this city, honors and persecutions of the greatest splendor. Kelley arrived there fully trained, because, during the trip, he had been initiated by his friend into the principles of the art, and no longer needed his master except to moderate his excessive ardor. In Prague, all representations of this wise mentor were forgotten.

The advice of wisdom would, however, have been very useful to this chance alchemist; they would have served to temper the indiscreet impatience with which he multiplied his projections. But Kelley wasn't listening; success had turned his head. He blew for the maintenance of his crazy expenses, he blew for all the needs of his unbridled fancies, and, not content with blowing for himself, he blew for his friends, for the courtiers, for the lords, and in general for anyone who could get close enough to tell him they admired him.

The extraordinary train of its expenses and the noise of its operations, made the maintenance of the whole city. He was invited to assemblies to ask him for projections, which he carried out without being asked, and which he even willingly repeated when people were able to raise, appropriately, some doubts about his art. He thus made a lot of gold and silver out of kindness, which he distributed to the spectators of his operations. He was especially generous towards great people, and we cite, among others, Marshal Rosemberg, who received a bit of the philosopher's stone from him. It was up to who would seize, and exploit in turn, this vain and earless Midas.

From the above, it follows that the emancipated student of Doctor Dee made a lot of gold in Prague. This fact, which no longer has anything marvelous if we admit with us that the powder found in the bishop's tomb was only a gold-bearing combination, is attested by a large number of historians who give various details on its projections. The best confirmed, as well as the most singular, is that which was executed in the house of the imperial physician Thadée de Hayek (Agecius). It is claimed that with a single drop of a red oil, he changed every pound of mercury into beautiful gold;

A small ruby ​​was found at the bottom of the crucible, which he assured came from the superabundant quantity of philosopher's stone used in the operation. Except for the interpretation of the fact presented by the follower, we can hardly doubt this story, reported by serious writers (3) and corroborated by an important testimony, that of the doctor Nicolas Barnaud who then lived in Hayek's house, and who himself made gold with help from Kelley (4). A piece of the metal from this test was kept by the heirs of the doctor Hayek, who showed it to whoever wanted to see it.

Upon hearing of all these miracles, Kelley was summoned to the German court. He made a projection before the Emperor Maximilian II which was, it is said, only a repetition of the previous one, and which also had a very great success. Delighted to finally encounter this marvelous dye that he himself had been looking for for so long, the emperor resolved to attach this precious blower to himself. Kelley was showered with favors and named Marshal of Bohemia, which did not fail to excite some jealousy among the lords of the court.

On the other hand, as the adept rose in honors, moderation became more difficult for him, and, less than ever, he was disposed to listen to the wise advice of the good Doctor Dee. A day, at a moment no doubt when his ordinary pride was still exalted by drunkenness, he dared to present himself, which he had never done until then, for a true adept, and pushed his imprudence so far as to boast to know how to prepare the powder which was used for his operations. In this moment of forgetfulness, he had just provided his enemies with the means to destroy him.
The courtiers, jealous of his fortune, had no difficulty in making the emperor understand all the interest he had in getting his hands on this living treasure. The emperor was only too ready to listen to this advice.

As long as we could hope for the alchemist to reveal his secret, we did not use great rigor towards him. They were content to keep him in custody, after having ordered him, under penalty of prison, to produce, for His Imperial Majesty, several books of his philosopher's powder. Kelley, for very good reasons, having refused to obey, was locked up in the castle of Zobeslau.

One resource remained for the false alchemist, which was to resort to the enlightenment of Doctor Dee. Confident in this hope, he undertook to satisfy the prince's desire if he were released. The doors of his prison opened; he was brought back to Prague, and he began to work with his friend. But, although very learned on many subjects, the excellent doctor was far from being an experienced adept. If he had been able, with the help of his chemical knowledge, to understand, from the bishop's manuscript, how to use the powder, he had not found in this manuscript the way to prepare it.

All their attempts, the numerous operations that they carried out together in the emperor's laboratory, therefore remained in vain. It is assured that, in their despair, the two friends then resolved to call the infernal spirits to their aid; we have even found the prayers and evocations that they addressed to the spirit of evil. But Abbot Lenglet-Dufresnoy teaches us that demons do not know such secrets, or that, if they know them, they are too cunning to discover them, especially to such characters: the demons remained deaf to the call of the two alchemists.

However, time was passing; Kelley's situation was deplorable, for he was unable to keep the promise he had made to the Emperor, and, although apparently free, he saw himself too well guarded to hope to succeed in an attempt to escape. . Bewildered by fury and despair, he killed a certain George Hunkler, who was in charge of watching him, and aggravated his position by this heinous and unnecessary murder.

After this blow, Kelley was chained and taken to Zerner Castle, where he was kept very closely. Although the writers from whom we borrow the facts of his history do not provide us with any date which allows us to fix the duration of this second captivity, it must have been very long. Kelley devoted the first months to writing a Latin treatise on the Stone of the Sages, which he sent to the emperor on October 14, 1596. Attached to this memorandum was a letter in which he complained greatly that the Marshal of Bohemia was, for the second time, detained in a prison in Bohemia.

But, eloquent as it was, this comparison did not have on the mind of the monarch the effect he expected. The same happened with the assurance that he renewed that he would finally reveal his secret if he was given his freedom. We did not let ourselves be taken in by this promise; they did not want to give him the opportunity to give a sequel to this first comedy which had ended in an assassination.

Fortunately for the prisoner, Doctor Dee had found a way to interest the Queen of England, Elisabeth, in his fate. The sound of its projections, reaching as far as London, had already aroused the attention of the court and disposed people's minds in its favor in advance. Elizabeth claimed the alchemist as one of her subjects. He was answered with a refusal which, moreover, could not pass for a lack of consideration towards the queen, for it was not the caprice of the prince, but the justice of the country which kept Kelley in the prisons of the empire.

Some historians explain this last fact differently. According to them, Elizabeth, informed by the fame of the prodigies which two of her subjects worked abroad, would have recalled them to England at a time when Kelley was free as well as his friend. But, still fearing for his freedom if he exposed himself to touch the lands of his country again, Kelley would have refused to obey, while Doctor Dee would have returned to London, where despite his inability to compose the philosopher's stone, he would have been, as the price of his obedience, showered with the benefits of the queen (5).

One can choose between these two versions, or even, which does not seem absolutely impossible, try to reconcile them. It is possible, in fact, that things first happened in accordance with this last account, and that then Doctor Dee, having learned in London of the new misfortune of his companion, begged Elizabeth to intervene for his deliverance , which would have brought the complaint of this princess and the refusal of the emperor.

What is certain is that in 1589 John Dee returned alone to England, where he lived and died in peace, although, towards his last years, the small pension which he received from Elizabeth's bounties was taken from him. withdrawn by King James I.

As for his companion Kelley, who had remained in the hands of the emperor, his friends did not want to abandon him, and resolved to make an attempt to rescue him from the prison of Zerner. They managed to place a rope, by means of which he was to descend to the foot of the castle tower; there, some gentlemen were waiting for him, having arranged everything to ensure his escape. Unfortunately, the rope broke: Kelley fell and broke his leg.

The cry of fear that he could not contain, seeing himself rushed, attracted the guards. They put him back in his prison; he died there as a result of his fall, in 1597. He was only forty-two years old. The poet, or rather the versifier Mordecai of Delia,

This opinion, however, was very gratuitous, and the ex-Lancaster notary cannot, under any circumstances, be included among the notables of alchemy. It took nothing less than the cooperation of a singular chance to make the man of whom we have just spoken a sort of saint of philosophical legend. Kelley had nothing salient but his pride. He sacrificed his freedom and even his life to the attraction of reputation, and his vanity alone saved him from the oblivion to which his philosophical ignorance condemned him.

The Treatise on the Stone of the Sages, which Kelley sent from his prison to the emperor in 1596, was printed in the collection of Elias Ashmole (6). The publisher thinks that this treatise is nothing other than the English bishop's own manuscript, which Kelley simply translated into Latin. The same Ashmole still possessed the manuscript of a very curious journal, where Doctor Dee and his companion had written, day by day, the details of their operations and noted the quantity of gold that they had made together in the towns of 'Germany. This diary, which contained many interesting notes on their history, was published by Méric Casaubon, long after Dee's death, which happened in 1604. 1.

Morhof, Epistola ad Langelottum de metallorum transmutatione.
2. Morhof, Epistola ad Langelottum de metallorum transmutatione.
3. Gassendus, from Metallis. — The author of the Recreation mentalis. — Mathasus de Brandau, Universal Medicine.
4. Libavii censura sentiarum scholoe Parisiensis.
5. Lenglet-Dufresnoy.
6. Theatrum britannicum chemicum. London, 1652.

CHAPTER III.

TRANSMUTATIONS ATTRIBUTED TO VAN HELMONT, HELVETIUS AND BERIGARD OF PISA. — MARTINI, — RICHTAUSEN AND EMPEROR FERDI-NAND III. — THE FAT PASTOR.

THE immense repercussion of the successes of these hermetics of Nicolas Flamel resulted, as we have said, in giving alchemical ideas great popularity. A certain number of facts of transmutation are cited, in the history of hermetic philosophy, during the two centuries which followed the death of Flamel, that is to say during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

We have just related, in the history of Kelley, the best known of these facts. The rest does not seem to us to be based on sufficiently authentic testimonies; so we will pass over them in silence to arrive at the 17th and 18th centuries, that is to say at a time fairly close to ours, so that the documents concerning these facts are numerous and easy to check.

The Hermetic philosophers have always cited with great confidence, in support of the truth of the general fact of transmutations, the testimony of Van Helmont. It was difficult, in fact, to find an authority more imposing and more trustworthy than that of the illustrious medical chemist whose just reputation as a scholar was matched only by his reputation as an honest man.

The very circumstances in which the transmutation was carried out were enough to astonish everyone, and we understand that Van Helmont himself was led to proclaim, based on the singular operation that he was given to accomplish , the truth of the principles of alchemy. Here is the fact as Van Helmont reports it in one of his works.

In 1618, in his laboratory in Vilvoorde near Brussels, Van Helmont received, from an unknown hand, a quarter of a grain of philosopher's stone. It came from a follower who, having discovered the secret, wanted to convince of its reality the famous scholar whose work honored his era. Van Helmont carried out the experiment himself, alone in his laboratory. With the quarter of a grain of powder that he had received from the unknown, he transformed eight ounces of mercury into gold. It must be admitted that such a fact was an almost unanswerable argument to be invoked in favor of the existence of the philosopher's stone.

Van Helmont, the most skilful chemist of his time, was difficult to deceive; he himself was incapable of imposture, and he had no interest in lying, since he never took the slightest advantage of this observation. Finally, the experiment having taken place outside the presence of the alchemist, it is difficult to understand how fraud could have crept in. Van Helmont was so well informed on this subject that he became an avowed supporter of alchemy. In honor of this adventure, he gave the name Mercurius to his newborn son. This Mercurius Van Helmont did not deny his alchemical baptism:

he converted Leibnitz to this opinion; throughout his life he searched for the philosopher's stone and died without having found it, it is true, but as a fervent apostle.

An almost similar event happened in 1666 to Helvetius, physician to the Prince of Orange.

Jean Frédéric Schweitzer, known by the Latin name of Helvetius, was one of the most determined opponents of alchemy; he had even made himself famous by writing against the sympathetic powder of Chevalier Digby. On December 27, 1666, he received a visit in The Hague from a stranger, dressed, he said, like a bourgeois from the north of Holland, and who stubbornly refused to make his name known.

This stranger announced to Helvetius that, upon hearing of his argument with the knight Digby, he had rushed to bring him material proof of the existence of the philosopher's stone. In a long conversation, the adept defended the Hermetic principles, and, to remove his adversary's doubts, he showed him, in a small ivory box, the philosopher's stone. It was a metallic powder the color of sulfur.

In vain did Helvetius conjure the stranger to demonstrate to him by fire the virtues of his powder, the alchemist resisted all entreaties, and withdrew, promising to return in three weeks.

While chatting with this man and examining the philosopher's stone, Helvetius had the skill to detach a few pieces of it and keep them hidden under his fingernail. As soon as he was alone, he hastened to try its virtues. He put molten lead in a crucible and made the projection. But everything dissipated in smoke; only a little lead and vitrified earth remained in the crucible.

Judging from then on this man as an impostor, Helvetius had almost forgotten the adventure, when, three weeks later and on the appointed day, the stranger reappeared. He still refused to do the operation himself; but, yielding to the doctor's prayers, he gave him a gift of a little of his stone, about the size of a grain of millet. And, as Helvetius expressed the fear that such a small quantity of the substance could not have the slightest property, the alchemist, still finding the gift too magnificent, removed half of it, saying that the rest was sufficient to transmute an ounce and a half lead.

At the same time, he took care to make known in detail the precautions necessary for the success of the work, and above all recommended, at the time of the projection, to wrap the philosopher's stone in a little wax, in order to protect it from lead smoke. Helvetius understood at this moment why the transmutation he had attempted had failed in his hands: he had not wrapped the stone in wax, and consequently neglected an indispensable precaution. The stranger also promised to come back the next day to witness the experiment.

The next day Helvetius waited in vain; the entire day passed without anyone being seen. In the evening, the doctor's wife, no longer able to contain her impatience, decided her husband to attempt the operation alone. The test was performed by Helvetius in the presence of his wife and son. He melted an ounce and a half of lead, projected the stone enveloped in wax onto the molten metal, covered the crucible with its lid and left it exposed for a quarter of an hour to the action of the fire. At the end of this time, the metal had acquired the beautiful green color of molten gold; cast and cooled, it became a magnificent yellow. All the goldsmiths of The Hague estimated the grade of this gold very highly; Povelius, general assayer of the coins of Holland, treated it seven times with antimony,

This is the narration that Helvetius himself gave of this adventure. The terms and minute details of his story exclude any suspicion of imposture on his part. He was so amazed by this success that it was on this occasion that he wrote his Vitulus auroeus (1) in which he recounts this fact and defends alchemy. This transmutation caused a great stir in The Hague, and everyone was able to convince themselves of its reality. Spinoza, who is not ranked among credulous people, says, in one of his letters, that he himself has obtained the most detailed information in this respect, and that he does not hesitate to declare himself convinced. like everyone else (2).

The Italian philosopher Bérigard de Pisa was converted to alchemy by an event very similar to the preceding ones. We can hardly explain these facts today except by admitting that the mercury that was used, or the crucible that was used, contained a certain quantity of gold hidden with marvelous skill.
“I will report,” Bérigard of Pisa tells us, “what happened to me in the past when I strongly doubted whether it was possible to convert mercury into gold. A clever man, wishing to remove my doubt in this regard, gave me a bulk of a powder whose color was quite similar to that of wild poppy, and whose odor recalled that of calcined sea salt.

To destroy any suspicion of fraud, I myself bought the crucible, the coal and the mercury from various merchants, so as not to have to fear that there was no gold in any of these materials, what alchemical charlatans so often do. On ten gros of mercury I added a little powder; I exposed the whole thing to a fairly strong fire, and in a short time the mass was completely converted into nearly ten gros of gold, which was recognized as very pure by the tests of various goldsmiths. If this fact had not happened to me without witnesses, without the presence of foreign arbitrators, I might have suspected some fraud; but I can affirm with confidence that the thing happened as I relate it (3). »

These kinds of practical demonstrations, furnished by the masters of the art to the incredulous or to the enemies of transmutatory science, were quite frequent in the seventeenth century. Many artists, traveling in various countries, stopped at the universities or in the big cities for this kind of scientific propaganda. What happened to Helmstedt in 1621 is a rather striking example.

A certain Martini, professor of philosophy at Helmstedt, was renowned for his diatribes against alchemy. One day, in one of his public lectures, as he was pouring out insults against the prompters, and arguments against their doctrines, a foreign gentleman, present at the session, politely interrupted him, to propose a public dispute. After having refuted all the professor's arguments, the gentleman demanded that they immediately procure him a crucible, a furnace and some lead. On the spot, he carried out the transmutation; he converted the lead into gold, and offered it to his amazed adversary, saying to him:
Domine, solve mi hune syllogismum (4).

This demonstration of fact brought about the complete conversion of the professor, who, in the following edition of his Treatise on Logic, expresses himself as a man whose incredulity in matters of alchemy had been strongly shaken (5).

But let us come to more remarkable facts: we want to talk about operations in which enough gold was manufactured, by alchemical processes, to mint coins or to mint commemorative medals. Among events of this kind, the most singular and best known is that which happened in 1648 at the imperial court of Germany, between Ferdinand III and Richtausen.

A follower, known by the obviously supposed name of Labujardière, was attached to the person of the Count of Schlik, lord of Bohemia. He was cited as possessing the philosopher's stone. In 1648, feeling close to death, he wrote to one of his friends, named Richtausen, who lived in Vienna, bequeathing him his philosopher's stone, and inviting him to come and receive it from his hands as soon as possible. Richtausen arrived too late; the follower was dead.

However, he asked the butler of the palace if the deceased had left anything, and they hastened to show him a cassette, which the alchemist, on his deathbed, had recommended to respect. Richtausen grabbed the cassette and took it away. In the meantime, Count Schlik arrives who, knowing the full value of his alchemist's inheritance, comes to claim him, threatening his butler to have him hanged. The latter immediately runs to Richtausen, and, putting two loaded pistols on his chest, tells him that he must die or return what he has stolen. Richtausen pretended to return the deposit; but he skillfully substituted an inert powder for that of the adept. Then, armed with his treasure, he went to present himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test.

Ferdinand III, well versed in Hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions to avoid being deceived. The operation was carried out in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines. With a grain of Richtausen's powder, it is said, two and a half pounds of mercury were transformed into fine gold. by threatening his butler to have him hanged. The latter immediately runs to Richtausen, and, putting two loaded pistols on his chest, tells him that he must die or return what he has stolen. Richtausen pretended to return the deposit; but he skillfully substituted an inert powder for that of the adept.

Then, armed with his treasure, he went to present himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test. Ferdinand III, well versed in Hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions to avoid being deceived. The operation was carried out in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines. With a grain of Richtausen's powder, it is said, two and a half pounds of mercury were transformed into fine gold. by threatening his butler to have him hanged. The latter immediately runs to Richtausen, and, putting two loaded pistols on his chest, tells him that he must die or return what he has stolen.

Richtausen pretended to return the deposit; but he skillfully substituted an inert powder for that of the adept. Then, armed with his treasure, he went to present himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test. Ferdinand III, well versed in Hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions to avoid being deceived. The operation was carried out in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines. With a grain of Richtausen's powder, it is said, two and a half pounds of mercury were transformed into fine gold.

The latter immediately runs to Richtausen, and, placing two loaded pistols on his chest, signals to him that he must die or restore what he has stolen. Richtausen pretended to return the deposit; but he skilfully substituted an inert powder for that of the adept. Then, armed with his treasure, he presented himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test. Ferdinand III, well versed in hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions not to be deceived. The operation took place in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines.

With a grain of Richtausen's powder, two and a half pounds of mercury are said to be transformed into fine gold. The latter immediately runs to Richtausen, and, placing two loaded pistols on his chest, signals to him that he must die or restore what he has stolen. Richtausen pretended to return the deposit; but he skilfully substituted an inert powder for that of the adept. Then, armed with his treasure, he presented himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test. Ferdinand III, well versed in Hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions to avoid being deceived.

The operation was carried out in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines. With a grain of Richtausen's powder, it is said, two and a half pounds of mercury were transformed into fine gold. tells him that he must die or restore what he has stolen. Richtausen pretended to return the deposit; but he skillfully substituted an inert powder for that of the adept. Then, armed with his treasure, he went to present himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test. Ferdinand III, well versed in Hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions to avoid being deceived.

The operation was carried out in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines. With a grain of Richtausen's powder, it is said, two and a half pounds of mercury were transformed into fine gold. tells him that he must die or return what he has stolen. Richtausen pretended to return the deposit; but he skillfully substituted an inert powder for that of the adept. Then, armed with his treasure, he went to present himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test. Ferdinand III, well versed in Hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions to avoid being deceived.

The operation was carried out in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines. With a grain of Richtausen's powder, it is said, two and a half pounds of mercury were transformed into fine gold. he went to present himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test. Ferdinand III, well versed in hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions not to be deceived.

The operation took place in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines. With a grain of Richtausen's powder, two and a half pounds of mercury are said to be transformed into fine gold. he went to present himself to the emperor, asking that his talents be put to the test. Ferdinand III, well versed in hermetic philosophy, took all the necessary precautions not to be deceived. The operation took place in his presence, out of Richtausen's eyes, and under the care of Count de Rutz, director of the mines. With a grain of Richtausen's powder, two and a half pounds of mercury are said to be transformed into fine gold.

The emperor had a medal struck with this gold, which still existed in the treasury of Vienna in 1797. It represented the god of the sun carrying a caduceus with wings at his foot, to recall the formation of gold by mercury; on one side, we read this inscription:

Divina metamorphosis exhibita Prague, Jan. 16 a. 1648, in presentia sacr. Coes. majesty. Ferdinandi tertii.

And on the other side:

Raris hoec ut hominibus est ars, ita raro in lucem prodit: laudetur Deus in aeternum qui partem suas infinitce potentice nobis suis abjectissimis creaturis communient.(This art is as rare as it is for men, so it rarely comes to light: God be praised forever who share their part infinitely powerfully with us his most rejected creatures.)

With the powder he had from Richtausen, Ferdinand III made a second projection in Prague
in 1650. The medal he had struck on this occasion bears this inscription:

Aurea progenies plumbo prognata parent - They bring forth golden offspring descended from lead.

It was still on display in the last century in the collection of the imperial castle of Ambras, in Tyrol.

In recognition of these great deeds, the emperor ennobled Richtausen. He gave him the title of Baron of Chaos. It was under this well-chosen name that he traveled throughout Germany, making projections. The most famous operation of the Baron of Chaos was that which he had carried out in 1658, on the Elector of Mainz, who himself converted four ounces of mercury into very pure gold.

Monconis, in his Travels, recounts the transmutation carried out by the elector of Mainz:

“The elector himself made this projection with all the care that a person understood in philosophy can take. It was with a small button as big as a lentil, which was even surrounded by gum tragacanth, to join the powder; he put this button in the wax of a candle, which was lit, put this wax in the bottom of the crucible, and on top of it four ounces of mercury, and put the whole in the fire, covered with black coals, above, below and surrounding areas.

Then, they began to blow heavily, and pulled out the molten gold, but which made very red rays which, usually, are green. Chaos then told him that the gold was still too high, that it had to be lowered by putting silver in it; then, His Highness, who had several coins, took one which he threw in himself, and having poured the whole in perfect fusion into an ingot mold, he made one. an ingot of very fine gold, but which was found to be a little sour, which Chaos said came from some smell of brass which had perhaps been found in the ingot mould, but which was sent to melt at the mint; which was done: and it was reported very beautiful and very sweet.

And the master of the coin told His Highness that he had never seen one so beautiful, that it was over 24 carats, and that it was astonishing, how sour it was, it was become perfectly soft by a single fusion (6). » which Chaos says comes from some smell of brass which had perhaps been found in the ingot mold, but which was sent to melt at the coinage; which was done: and it was reported very beautiful and very sweet. And the master of the coin told His Highness that he had never seen one so beautiful, that it was over 24 carats, and that it was astonishing, how sour it was, it was become perfectly soft by a single fusion (6). » which Chaos says comes from some smell of brass which had perhaps been found in the ingot mold, but which was sent to melt at the coinage; which was done: and it was reported very beautiful and very sweet.

And the master of the coin told His Highness that he had never seen one so beautiful, that it was over 24 carats, and that it was astonishing, how sour it was, it was become perfectly soft by a single fusion (6). »

To this summary of the transmutations observed in the 17th century, we can add a fact reported by Manget, according to the testimony of one of the actors in the event, Mr. Gros, pastor of the Holy Gospel in Geneva (7).

In the year 1658, a traveler arriving from Italy stayed at the Hotel du Cygne de la Croix-Verte. He soon became friends with Mr. Gros, then twenty years old and who was studying theology. For fifteen days they visited together the curiosities of the city and the surrounding area. At the end of this time, the stranger confided to his companion that the money was beginning to run out, which did not fail to worry the student, whose rather light purse feared an importunate call. But his fears did not last long. The Italian limited himself to asking that he be taken to a goldsmith who could put his workshop and tools at his disposal.

They took him to M. Bureau, who, consenting to satisfy his request, procured him tin, mercury, crucibles, and retired so as not to interfere with his operations. Left alone with Mr. Gros and a worker from the workshop, the Italian took two crucibles, placed mercury in one and tin in the other. When the tin was melted and the mercury slightly heated, he poured the mercury over the tin and threw into the mixture a red powder surrounded by wax.

A lively excitement arose and calmed down almost immediately. The crucible being removed from the fire, the metal was poured and six small ingots of the most beautiful yellow were obtained. The goldsmith having returned meanwhile, hastened to examine the ingots: it was gold, and the finest, he said, he had ever worked. The touchstone, the antimony, the cup, justified its nature and the elevation of its title. To pay the goldsmith for his kindness, the Italian presented him with the smallest of ingots; he then went to the mint, where his gold was exchanged for an equal weight of Spanish ducats. He gave twenty ducats to young Gros, paid his account at the hotel and took leave of his friends, announcing his very soon return. He even ordered a magnificent meal for the day of his arrival, which he paid for in advance. He left, but never came back.

1. Vitulus aurceus quem mundus adored and orated. In bibliothecâ chemicâ Mangeti, t. I, p. 196.
2. Here are the very terms of this letter from Spinoza, addressed to Jarig Jellis: “Having spoken to Voss about the Helvetius affair, he made fun of me, being surprised to see me occupied with such trifles.

To find out for sure, I went to the coiner Brechtel, who had tested the gold. He assured me that, during its melting, the gold had increased in weight when silver was thrown into it. It was therefore necessary that this gold, which changed silver into new gold, had to be of a very particular nature. Not only Brechtel, but also other people who had witnessed the test, assured me that this had happened.

I then went to Helvetius himself, who showed me the gold and the crucible still containing a little gold attached to its walls. He told me that he had thrown barely a quarter of a grain of wheat from the philosopher's stone onto the molten lead. He added that he would make this story known to everyone. It seems that this follower had already had the same experience in Amsterdam, where he could still be found. This is all the information I was able to gather on this subject. » (Boorbourg, March 27, 1667.) Bened. Spinozae Opera posthuma., p. 553.
3. Hoc nisi in loco solo et remoto ab arbitris compro-bassem, suspicare aliquid subesse fraudis: nam fidenter testari possum rem ita esse. (Circulus Pisanus, 25.)

4. “Lord, solve this syllogism for me.

5. "I will say nothing against the truth of this art, because I cannot reject the testimonies of so many honest people who claim to have seen with their own eyes the ennoblement of metals and to have operated it themselves . Lying here would be madness, especially for a student of Wisdom.
6. Travels, t. II, p. 379.
7. Bibliotheca chemica curiosa. Prefatio ad lectorem.

CHAPTER IV.

THE COSMOPOLITAN.

We designate under this same name of Cosmopolitan the two personages who successively carried it, and who, in fact, having found themselves closely united for a few years of their hermetic career, then continued one by the other with circumstances which further add to the confusion produced by the homonymy. By bringing together under the same title the two names of Alexander Sethon and Sendivogius, we have already warned the minds of our readers against the very widespread error which consists in making these two alchemists only one and the same character. Our story will complete the distinction between them. If, at certain points, they must appear together in the narration, we will mark with enough care the point where they separate so that we find two very distinct stories under the same title,

ALEXANDER SETHON

During the summer of 1601, a Dutch pilot, named Jacques Haussen, was assailed by a storm in the North Sea, thrown onto the coast of Scotland, not far from Edinburgh, a short distance from village of Séton or Seatoun. The shipwrecked were rescued by a local resident who owned a house and some land on this shore: he managed to save several of these unfortunate people, welcomed the pilot into his house with great humanity, and provided him with the means to return to Holland.

This trait of humanity from the Scotsman, the gratitude the pilot felt for it, and undoubtedly also the pleasure they had felt in the few days they had spent together, made them promise, when they separated, to see each other again.
Nothing is known either about the age or the background of the man who has just revealed himself by this generous action. His very name, which he left early and purposely for the nickname under which he traveled in Europe, has become a matter of controversy for historians of Hermetic philosophy.

The then almost universal use of Latinizing proper names has above all contributed to bringing about numerous variants on the name of Sethon or Sidon. Thus we find him successively called Sethonius Scotus, Sitonius, Sidonius, Suthoneus, Suehtonius, and finally Seehthonius. It is not of great historical importance to know which of these forms comes closest to the original name. The epithet of Scotus, with which all are invariably accompanied, indicates sufficiently that it is about the same character, Scottish of nation; and as the Englishman Campden, in his Britannia, points out, very close to the place on the coast where the pilot Haussen was shipwrecked, a dwelling which he calls Sethon House, residence of the Earl of Winton, we could infer with enough foundation that Sethon belonged to this noble family of Scotland.

Whatever the case, this man, whose previous life has remained unknown, and whose history begins with the seventeenth century, is an alchemist who appears to us fully trained and, as we will soon see, a past master in his art, however he learned it. Another quality that we can admire in him is his selflessness. If, in all the places where the needs of his hermetic propaganda call him, he justifies his mission by successes which could, rightly, pass for miracles, if he makes gold and silver every requisition is not to add to one's riches, but to offer some to those who doubt, and thus convince unbelief.

This is also the singular character that most of the followers present to us at this time. Alchemy appears to them to be a science now established, which is no longer a matter of recommending, not to the greed of the vulgar, but to the enlightened admiration of elite men and scholars.

They go from town to town, preaching this science as one preaches a religion, that is to say, while neglecting nothing to demonstrate its truth, they refrain from profaning its mysteries. It is, in a word, a sort of apostolate that these followers accomplished in the middle of a century of criticism and enlightenment, an apostolate always difficult, often perilous, and in which Alexander Sethon was to find martyrdom. but to the enlightened admiration of elite men and scholars.

They go from town to town, preaching this science as one preaches a religion, that is to say, while neglecting nothing to demonstrate its truth, they refrain from profaning its mysteries. It is, in a word, a sort of apostolate that these followers accomplished in the middle of a century of criticism and enlightenment, an apostolate always difficult, often perilous, and in which Alexander Sethon was to find martyrdom. but to the enlightened admiration of elite men and scholars. They go from town to town, preaching this science as one preaches a religion, that is to say, while neglecting nothing to demonstrate its truth, they refrain from profaning its mysteries. It is, in a word, a sort of apostolate that these followers accomplished in the middle of a century of criticism and enlightenment, an apostolate always difficult, often perilous, and in which Alexander Sethon was to find martyrdom.

From the first months of the year 1602, our philosopher inaugurated his wanderings with a trip to Holland. He went to visit his host and his friend Haussen, who then lived in the small town of Enkuysen. The sailor received him with joy and kept him in his house for several weeks. During this stay, their hearts became united in a truly fraternal friendship.

So the Scotsman did not want to leave his guest without confiding to him that he knew the art of transmuting metals, and to prove it to him, he made a projection in his presence. On March 13, 1602, Sethon changed a piece of lead into a piece of gold of the same weight, which he left as a souvenir to his friend Jacob Haussen.

Struck by the miracle he had witnessed, Haussen could not help but speak about it to one of his friends, a doctor in Enkuysen; he even presented him with a piece of his gold. This friend was Venderlinden, ancestor of Jean Venderlinden, author of a Library of Medical Writers, and who, having inherited this gold, showed it to the famous doctor George Morhof, who himself composed a well-known work (1) from which we have extracted this entire first part of the history of the Cosmopolite.

Leaving the town of Enkuysen, Alexander Sethon undoubtedly went to Amsterdam, then to Rotterdam. We cannot, without this, relate to any period of his life the projections which, according to a work of a later date, he made in these two cities. We still know, but just as indirectly, that when he left Holland he embarked for Italy. No information, however, tells us what part of Italy he crossed, nor what happened to him during his short stay in these countries.
We find him in the same year, arriving in Germany via Switzerland, in the company of a professor from Fribourg, "Wolfang Dienheim, who, every opponent declared that he was of hermetic philosophy, was forced to bear witness to the success of 'a projection that Sethon performed in Bay in front of him and several important town figures.

“In 1602, writes Doctor Dienheim, when in the middle of the summer I returned from Rome to Germany, I found myself beside a singularly witty man, small in stature, but rather large, with a colored face, of a sanguine temperament, wearing a brown beard trimmed in the French fashion. He was dressed in a black satin coat and had only one servant, who could be distinguished among all by his red hair and his beard of the same color.

This man's name was Alexander Sethonius. He was a native of Molia, in an island in the Ocean (2). In Zurich, where the priest Tghlin gave him a letter for Doctor Zvinger, we rented a boat and went by water to Baie. When we had arrived in this town, my companion said to me: "You remember that, in the whole journey and on the boat you attacked alchemy and alchemists. You also remember that I promised to answer you, not by demonstrations, but by a philosophical action. I am still waiting for someone whom I want to convince at the same time as you, so that the adversaries of alchemy cease their doubts about this art. »

“We then went to look for the character in question, whom I only knew by sight and who did not live far from our hotel. I later learned that it was Dr. Jacob Zvinger, whose family includes so many famous naturalists.

The three of us went to the house of a gold mine worker, with several plates of lead that Zvinger had taken from his house, a crucible that we took from a goldsmith, and some ordinary sulfur that we bought on the way. Sethon didn't touch anything. He made a fire, ordered the lead and sulfur to be put in the crucible, the lid placed and the mass stirred with chopsticks.

During this time he was chatting with us. After a quarter of an hour, he said to us: — “Throw this little paper into the molten lead, but in the middle, and try to ensure that nothing falls into the fire!..." In this paper was a fairly heavy powder, of a color that appeared lemon-yellow; besides, you had to have good eyes to distinguish it. Although as incredulous as Saint Thomas himself, we did everything that was commanded us.

After the mass had been heated for about a quarter of an hour more, and continually stirred with iron rods, the goldsmith was ordered to extinguish the crucible by pouring water over it; but there was no longer the slightest vestige of lead; we found the purest gold, which, in the opinion of the goldsmith, even surpassed in quality the beautiful gold of Hungary and Arabia. It weighed just as much as the lead, whose place it had taken.

We stood stupefied with astonishment; we hardly dared to believe our eyes. But Sethonius, mocking us: "Now," said he, "where are you with your pedantry?" You see the truth of the fact, and it is "mightier than anything, even your sophistry." — Then he had a piece of the gold cut off, and gave it as a souvenir to Zvinger. I also kept a piece of it which weighed about four ducats, and which I kept in memory of that day.

“As for you, unbelievers, you will perhaps laugh at what I write. But I still live, and I am a witness always ready to tell what I saw. But Zvinger still lives, he will not be silent and will bear witness to what I affirm. Sethonius and his servant still live, the latter in England and the former in Germany, as we know. I could even say the precise place where he lives, if there was not too much indiscretion in the research that would have to be carried out to find out what happened to this great man, to this saint, to this half -god (4) »
We must recognize, to the glory of our apostle, that those converted in his way were not half converted.

This Jacob Zvinger, whose testimony Doctor Dienheim invokes, was a doctor and professor in Baie; apart from these titles, he enjoyed a high reputation for science, and he left a very respected name in the history of German medicine. This impeccable witness died of the plague in 1610. But, from the year 1606, he had confirmed down to the smallest details the story of Jean Wolfang Dienheim, in a Latin letter that Emmanuel Konig, professor at Baie, had printed in his Ephemeris (5) The same letter tells us that before leaving Bay, Sethon made a second attempt in the house of the goldsmith André Bletz, where he changed several ounces of lead into gold.

All these testimonies, provided by serious people, collected by contemporaries whose veracity and knowledge cannot be suspected, would certainly be considered sufficient proof to establish the truth of a common and ordinary fact. If we cannot be satisfied with them to prove the certainty of an action which has a marvelous character, they are nevertheless likely to cause some embarrassment to criticism. One dares neither admit what, with good reason, seems a prodigy, nor reject what imposes itself on belief with so much authority.

Reason no doubt tells us that a skilful artifice, an ingeniously concealed trick of dexterity, accounts for the various transmutations of our Scotsman; but here reason finds itself in the presence of a question of fact which is not precisely within its remit, and which must be resolved, not by theories but by testimonies, under penalty of ruining the foundation of all historical certainty .

The alchemists of the seventeenth century seem to have adopted the program of keeping to themselves the secret of the preparation of the philosopher's stone, but of revealing it to the outside world through its effects. The truly demonstrative proof, the most difficult proof, was thus evaded; but the empirical demonstration was provided with a happiness and an abundance of actions which left no resources for the contradictors.

Current science makes it possible to rectify the meaning of these singular facts, it shows us that these proofs of metallic transmutation were insufficient, because they only addressed the eyes; but what we must admire, what we must be astonished about today, is that the followers were able to fascinate them so long and so constantly, in an era of suspicious criticism and clairvoyant incredulity.
However, Alexander Sethon enters Germany, and at the same time enters the career of adventures. Leaving Bay, he went to Strasbourg under an assumed name, and it was then without doubt that he made in this imperial city the projection which he later spoke about in Cologne.

We also agree to consider him as the unknown alchemist who was involved in an event whose consequences were very disastrous for a German goldsmith named Philippe Jacob Gustenhover.

This Gustenhover was a citizen of Strasbourg, where he exercised his profession as a goldsmith. In midsummer of 1603, a stranger came to his house under the name of Hirschborgen, asking to work in his house, which Gustenhover granted. When leaving, the stranger, to reward his master,

After the departure of his guest, the goldsmith had the vanity to talk about his treasure, and the even more unfortunate vanity to use it in front of several people, to whom he wanted to pass himself off as an adept. Everything, in truth, had happened between neighbors and friends; but, as Schmieder, who provides us with this episode, says very well, every friend had a neighbor, and every neighbor had a friend. The news spread from mouth to mouth and from house to house, and soon, in the city of Strasbourg, everyone was crying out: "Gustenhover has found the secret of the alchemists!" Gustenhover makes gold! »

Fame soon brought word of the event to Prague, and it is understandable that the person who brought it was well received by the Emperor Rudolf II. Already, following the first rumor, the Strasbourg council had sent three of its members to inquire into the matter. We even mention the names of these delegates, who made the goldsmith work under their eyes and who, according to his instructions, operated themselves, one after the other, with equal success. One of these three delegates, Glaser, councilor of Strasbourg, who came to Paris in 1647, showed a piece of this gold, made at Gustenhover, to Doctor Jacob Heilman, from whom we have all these details and what goes follow (6).

The Emperor Rudolph did not waste his time in sending commissioners to the adept; he ordered the goldsmith to be brought to him in person. Admitted into the presence of the German Hermes, Gustenhover was forced to admit that he had not prepared this marvelous powder himself, and that he was absolutely ignorant of how to obtain it. But this admission only angered the greedy sovereign against him. The poor goldsmith repeated his protests without being further listened to. He found himself condemned to making gold when his entire supply of powder was exhausted.

This powder, a gift from his host, and which was undoubtedly only a gold-bearing compound, would have provided him with the means to satisfy the imperial desire for a while; but he had dissipated it entirely in vain attempts, and was thus reduced to impotence. To escape the wrath of the emperor, the unfortunate artist had only to flee; but, pursued and brought back, he was locked up in the White Tower, where the Emperor Rudolph, still convinced that the alchemist persisted in hiding his secret from him, kept him prisoner all his life.

This unknown adept, this Hirschborgen, who gave the goldsmith of Strasbourg such a fatal present, was no doubt none other, as we have said, than Alexander Sethon. Since entering Germany, he was always careful to hide. Arrived in Frankfurt-on-the-Main, where he made projections, he first looked for a lodging, not in the city itself, but in Offenbach, a populous town in the vicinity. In Frankfort, he lodged under a false name, with a merchant named Coch, a well-informed man, for whom he developed as much sympathy as for the pilot Haussen.

This honest merchant tells himself thus, in a letter to Théobald de Hoghelande, how he was honored by the confidence of the philosopher:

“In Offenbach, there lived for some time a follower who, under the name of a French count, bought many things from me. Before his departure from Frankfurt, he wanted to teach me the art of transmutation of metals; he didn't do the work and let me do everything. He gave me a reddish gray powder, which weighed about three grains. I threw it on two half ounces of quicksilver placed in a crucible. I then filled the crucible with potash about half full, and we heated it slowly. After which I fill the stove with coal to the top of the crucible, so that it was entirely in a very strong fire, which lasted about half an hour. When the crucible was all red, he ordered me to throw a little yellow wax into it. After a few moments, I took the crucible and broke it;

I found at the bottom a small piece of gold which weighed six ounces three grains. It was melted in my presence and subjected to cupellation, and twenty-three carats were removed, fifteen grains, of gold and six of silver, both of a very brilliant color. With part of the piece of gold I made myself a shirt button. It seems to me that mercury is not necessary for the operation (7). »

The particularities of this projection sufficiently authorize us to think that Sethon was the author, and that this was one of the attempts that our alchemist later recalled in Cologne. It is, in fact, consistent with his way of acting.

Everywhere he gives his powder without teaching its composition; everywhere he operates through the hand of his host or of some person whom he wishes to convince of the reality of his art. Finally, everywhere he uses only a very small quantity of his precious stone, calculated to obtain a small piece of gold, which he then leaves to the assistants, as a reward or evidence; after which he discreetly slips away. Happy if he had always used the same caution!
It was missing in Cologne for the first time. There, without doubt, the memories of Zachaire, Thurneysser and Albert the Great had exalted his spirit and raised his apostolic zeal to the highest degree of fervor.

As soon as he arrived in this city, he began by inquiring about the people who dealt with alchemy. His servant, William Hamilton, that good head noticed at Basle by Doctor Dienheim, set out on the campaign and at first discovered only a distiller. This industrialist designated them, as an amateur alchemist, a certain Anton Bordemann, with whom Sethon immediately went to settle. He stayed there for a month, and during this interval Bordemann was able to provide him with all the information he needed to get in touch with the other alchemists in the city. But these amateurs who allowed themselves to be sought by a philosopher such as Alexandre Sethon were hardly worth the trouble he took to find them. It is permissible to pass this judgment on them, after the profound discredit into which the art, by their doing, had fallen at Cologne.

In this learned city, the noble science of alchemy had become a laughing stock, not only for enlightened people, but for the ignorant and the foolish, that servum pecus, always eager to mingle his voice with the expression of blame or public praise. Sethon therefore had to fight, in the city of Cologne, against very strong prejudices; so he considered it necessary to take a detour to begin his tests. It is permissible to pass this judgment on them, after the profound discredit into which the art, by their doing, had fallen at Cologne.

In this learned city, the noble science of alchemy had become an object of ridicule, not only for enlightened people, but for the ignorant and the stupid, this servum pecus, always eager to add his voice to the expression of blame or public praise. Sethon therefore had to fight, in the city of Cologne, against very strong prejudices; so he judged it necessary to employ a detour to begin his experiments. It is permissible to pass this judgment on them, after the profound discredit into which the art, by their doing, had fallen at Cologne.

In this learned city, the noble science of alchemy had become an object of ridicule, not only for enlightened people, but for the ignorant and the stupid, this servum pecus, always eager to add his voice to the expression of blame or public praise. Sethon therefore had to fight, in the city of Cologne, against very strong prejudices; so he judged it necessary to employ a detour to begin his experiments. this servum pecus, always eager to add his voice to the expression of public blame or praise. Sethon therefore had to fight, in the city of Cologne, against very strong prejudices; so he considered it necessary to take a detour to begin his tests. this servum pecus, always eager to add his voice to the expression of public blame or praise. Sethon therefore had to fight, in the city of Cologne, against very strong prejudices; so he considered it necessary to take a detour to begin his tests.

On August 5, 1633, a stranger entered the apothecary Marshishor, and asked for lapis lazuli. The stones presented to him not having suited him, they promised to show him better ones the next day. Several other people were at the moment in the shop, among others an old apothecary named Raymond and an ecclesiastic, who, on this subject, entered into conversation with the buyer.

One of them claimed that they had already tried in vain to make gold with lapis lazuli. The other added that there was a great deal of alchemy in the city of Cologne, but that, moreover, no one had ever discovered the supposed secret of this science. Everyone shared this opinion; the stranger alone maintained that all was not a lie in the facts recorded in the hermetic books, and that there might well exist certain artists capable of proving it. All the assistants having burst out laughing at this affirmation, the stranger, who seemed deeply hurt, abruptly left the shop.

This unknown buyer was none other than the philosopher Sethon, who returned furious to his host. The excellent Bordemann consoled him as best he could, and convinced him to take revenge as soon as possible with a success which silenced the mockers.

The next day, Sethon returns to the apothecary, he pays for the new lazuli stones shown to him, and asks for antimony glass. Raising doubts about the quality of this product, he expressed the desire to ensure himself by experience that this antimony glass would resist the action of a violent fire. To carry out this test, the apothecary had his son take Sethon to the workshop of the goldsmith Jean Lohndorf, located near the Saint-Laurence church. The goldsmith placed the glass of antimony in a crucible reddened by the fire. Meanwhile, Sethon takes from his pocket a paper containing a powder of which he cuts two parts with the point of a knife; he orders the goldsmith to throw half of it onto the melted antimony glass. After a few moments,

The apothecary's son, two workers in the workshop and a neighbor witnessed this transmutation, which seemed all the more marvelous as the stranger had not even touched the crucible.

However, the goldsmith did not want to admit to being convinced. Master Lohndorf was one of those biased unbelievers who find themselves too well in such a state not to conspire a little against the success of the proofs they demand. He proposed to make a second test with the rest of the powder where lead was used instead of antimony glass; at the same time the mischievous goldsmith slipped furtively into the crucible a piece of zinc, a metal which makes gold brittle and difficult to work. Believing himself sure of having compromised the operation in advance, our man prepared to enjoy the confusion of the adept. But his expectations were disappointed, because this time again, only perfectly malleable and ductile gold was found in the crucible.

At that moment, there was not in all of Cologne a prouder, more triumphant man than Bordemann. He was not, in truth, the vengeful artist who shamed the unbelievers, but it was he who harbored it. An alchemist himself, and undoubtedly as advanced as any other in the city, he had had his share of the jeers and taunts of the vulgar before the arrival of the foreign scholar. He therefore had the right to be proud of this hospitality given to the man whose victorious experiences, by rehabilitating art, rehabilitated all its followers. So it was undoubtedly at the instigation of his host that, a few days later, Sethon went to attack an unbeliever more serious than all those with whom he had yet dealt in Germany.

In the Katmenbach valley lived a surgeon named Meister George, a learned man whose opinion was authoritative on many matters, and who, for a long time, had posed before the public as an outraged opponent of alchemy. Although they were neither stupid nor disloyal, like those of the goldsmith Lohndorf, his prejudices against this science were hardly more tractable; our philosopher therefore deemed it necessary to take a detour to achieve his ends.

On August 11, 1603, Meister George and the alchemist Sethon had an interview together under the artificial pretext of a Hippocratic conference. There was no question, in fact, of anything but medicine and anatomy. Among other things, Sethon asked the surgeon if he knew how to mortify wild meat, assuring that, for him, he knew how to remove the meat down to the bones without disturbing the nerves. Meister George expresses his desire to see this operation carried out. "Nothing could be simpler," said the philosopher. Just get me lead, sulfur and a crucible. Meister George's barber will fetch these three items. But the operator still needs a bellows and a furnace. We do not have these objects on hand, and Sethon suggests going to operate at a goldsmith who lives nearby.

So here is the incredulous doctor skillfully lured into the laboratory of the goldsmith Hams de Kempen, in Maret. The goldsmith was not at home, but his son worked there with four workers and an apprentice. While the barber arrives with the sulfur and the lead, the stranger enters into conversation with the workmen, and offers to teach them the means of changing iron into steel. To test this secret, a workman fetches some old broken pincers from a corner, which he places, on Sethon's orders, in a red-hot crucible.

The barber, having arrived in the meantime, has already put the sulfur and the lead in another crucible. Both work simultaneously: they blow, they heat, following the stranger's instructions. He then takes from his pocket a small paper containing a red powder which he divides into two parts; at the moment which seems propitious to him, he has half of this powder thrown into each crucible, ordering at the same time to add charcoal and to heat more intensely. After a few moments, the lids are removed, and the barber exclaims:

“Lead is turned into gold!” while the workman said almost simultaneously:

"There is gold in my crucible!" We hasten to remove the metal from the two crucibles: hammered, rolled, heated, the gold still retains its original appearance. The apprentice calls the goldsmith's wife, an expert in the testing of precious alloys, and who ascertains, by all the ordinary tests, the purity of the gold; she even offers to pay him eight thalers. However, the event caused a stir outside, the house began to fill with neighbors, and the adept, who thought it prudent to retire, slipped away, taking the very disconcerted surgeon with him.

- So ! said Meister George once in the street, "so that was what you wanted to show me?"

"No doubt," said the adept. I had learned from my host that you were a declared enemy of alchemy, and I wanted to convince you with unanswerable proof. This is how I proceeded in Rotterdam, Amsterdam, Frankfurt, Strasbourg and Basel.
'But, dear gentleman,' remarked George, 'I find you very imprudent to act so openly. If the princes ever hear of your operations, they will have you searched for and will hold you captive to seize your secret.

'I know that,' said Sethon; but Cologne, where we are, is a free city where I have nothing to fear from sovereigns. Besides, if it ever happened that a prince seized my person, I would suffer a thousand deaths rather than reveal anything to him.

Here the philosopher remained silent and dreamy for a moment, as if he glimpsed in his thoughts the barbaric treatments to which a prince of Germany was to make him a victim. But, immediately driving away this painful impression, he resumed warmly:

"Let them ask me for proofs of my art!" I give them to whoever wants them. And, if they want me to manufacture masses of gold, I still consent to it;
I would gladly do for fifty or sixty thousand ducats.

From that day, the surgeon Meister George was completely converted to alchemy, and professed to believe in it, despite the taunts of his friends and the imputations of some malevolent spirits. To the former, who complained of having allowed himself to be surprised by a skilful charlatan, he replied in these terms:

— What I saw, I saw it well. What the workers of Master Hams of Kempen did themselves in the presence of witnesses is not a dream. The gold of which they can still show a part is not a chimera. I will always believe my eyes rather than your chatter.

As for those who accused him of having received money to testify in favor of alchemy, he always disdained to answer them; his reputation as a man of honor deprived them of all credit in advance (8).

Leaving Cologne, the illustrious adept went to Hamburg, where he still made remarkable projections mentioned by a writer whom we have already quoted (9). It is probable that it was on leaving this last city that the Cosmopolitan went to Munich. Here, however, the ardent preacher of noble science shows an interruption in his crusade against the prejudices of unbelief. During his entire stay in Munich, we do not see him carrying out any projection or hermetic experiment. To what reason can we attribute this gap in his apostolate?

Although he had not made any projections in the capital of Bavaria, it is said that Alexander Sethon disappeared from Munich, as he had disappeared from Cologne, and as he disappeared from all the cities where his hermetic wonders had been accomplished. . But this time his hasty flight had another motive. In escaping from Munich, the philosopher took with him, or rather kidnapped, a young and pretty daughter of a bourgeois of the city who had become attached to him during his stay. The preludes to this event sufficiently account for the prolonged inaction of the Cosmopolitan in Munich: a philosopher cannot always work for his idea.

What is certain is that from this moment we find Sethon married. Who, however, is this woman for whom the Cosmopolitan has for some time forgotten the object of his glorious mission, and who will henceforth belong to the chronicles of alchemy? History tells us she was pretty; that's all we know about her. It is true that the Bavarian Adam Rockosch claimed her as his relative, but all this is very little for posterity.

This young woman seemed to absorb our philosopher completely. This is sufficiently proven by the conduct he took at Crossen, where the court of the Duke of Saxony was then located. In the autumn of the same year 1603, already filled with so many singular events, the Prince of Saxony, having heard of the Cosmopolite's skill, desired to obtain proof of it. But he was so busy with his marriage that he forgot more than ever the goal of his mission. He did not think it appropriate to bother for the prince, and limited himself to sending his servant Hamilton to operate at His Highness.

The projection made in the presence of the entire court was a complete success; the blower's gold resisted all the tests (10). But, a few days later, either because he was frightened for himself at having succeeded so well, or because he understood that his services were becoming useless to the married adept, Hamilton separated from his master or his friend, because no one knew exactly the nature of the relationships that existed between them. This worthy companion of the Cosmopolite returned to England via Holland, and, from that moment on, his name no longer appears in history.

However, Sethon forgot himself in a dangerous position. Christian II, Elector of Saxony, was barely more than twenty years old, and several of his actions had already revealed in him a cruel character. Like most German princes, he was greedy for wealth. Until then he had professed to despise alchemists, not because he was educated enough to form a reasoned opinion on their science for himself, but for the sole reason that his father had esteemed them.

However, the proof which was put before his eyes at Crossen by the Cosmopolite's servant, had changed his feelings towards them. He attracted Sethon to court and at first pretended to be favorable to him. A small quantity of philosopher's stone which the adept gave him as a gift was not enough to satisfy the prince; what he needed,

After having exhausted in vain the means of mildness, threats having succeeded no better, Prince Christian came to action. The unfortunate adept was made to endure all the tortures that cruelty stimulated by the thirst for gold can imagine. They pierced it with sharp irons, they burned it with molten lead; after a few moments of respite, he was beaten with rods. Body dislocated, limbs torn, the philosopher persisted in his refusal.

A more thoughtful cruelty led to the discovery, for this unfortunate man, of another kind of martyrdom. We understood that by returning to torture we would only succeed in killing him, and that we would thus lose any chance of acquiring his secret. A long and harsh captivity seemed a surer way to overcome his obstinacy. The Cosmopolite was locked up in a dark dungeon, entry to which was forbidden to all, and whose guard was entrusted to forty men who got up alternately.

At that time, there lived in Dresden a gentleman from Moravia, known by the Latin name of Michael Sendivogius, a man learned in several subjects. As he was involved in hermetics, he took a keen interest in the fate of the Cosmopolite and wanted to see him in his prison. This permission having been granted to him, thanks to the credit of his friends with the elector, he had several interviews with the prisoner and spoke to him about chemistry, a subject on which Sethon only answered him with extreme reserve. One day, finding himself alone with him, he offered to rescue him from his captivity.

The unfortunate man, languishing in his wounds, protested with all his gratitude and made the richest promises to his future liberator. An escape plan was then agreed between them. Sendivogius hastens to go to Krakow to realize his fortune, he sold a house he owned and returned to Dresden with money. He obtains permission to settle near the prisoner, and through his calculated generosity, gradually gains the trust of the soldiers assigned to his guard.

On the day taken for the execution of his project, he regaled the company of soldiers so well that by nightfall they were all drunk to the last. He immediately takes Sethon, who could not walk as a result of his tortures, and leaves the tower with his burden. They only take the time to go and look for his supply of philosopher's stone at the alchemist's house. They then climb into a post carriage in which Sethon's wife takes a seat with them, and hurriedly cross the border to go to Poland.

They only stopped in Krakow. There, Sendivogius summoned the philosopher to keep his promise; but he refused to execute it: “See,” he said to him, “to what state I was reduced for not wanting to reveal my secret. These broken limbs, this half-rotten body, tell you enough of the reserve I must impose on myself in the future.

Among other promises made in Dresden prison, Sethon had promised to give his liberator something to be happy with all his life with his family (11), which Sendivogius had naturally heard of the revelation of the hermetic secret . But Sethon could not hear it that way. He added that he would believe he was committing a great sin by discovering this mystery, and finally advised him to ask God.

Sethon does not enjoy his deliverance for long. He died shortly afterwards, saying, however, that if his illness had been natural and internal, his powder would have cured him, but that his severed nerves and broken limbs by torture could not, by any means, be restored. When he died, he gave his deliverer what remained of his supply of the philosopher's stone.

It was in January 1604, or, according to others, in December 1603, that this illustrious man died. We remember that the first hermetic test that we know of him took place at Enkhuysen, on March 13, 1602. It was therefore in less than two years that all the facts that we have just reported were accomplished.
As contemporaries have traced it to us, the story of Alexander Sethon today offers criticism a very singular problem. Should we pronounce, in fact, that this philosophical mission, to which the Cosmopolitan devoted his existence, had as its aim only the propagation of lies, and as its motive only the personal glory of this spontaneous apostle of error? We leave this question to the appreciation of our readers, who will find in their historical memories some similar facts capable of establishing their opinion on this delicate point.

Sethon left a hermetic work, the Book of Twelve Chapters, of which we will speak about the alterations that Sendivogius made to it, in the hope that posterity would attribute this treatise to him. This same work, as if to help with the confusion, has often been referred to under this title: the Cosmopolitan, a nickname for Sethon also usurped by Sendivogius. But it's time to move on to the story of this last character.

MICHAEL SENDIVOGIUS.

We leave this philosopher with the Latin name by which he is most generally known, and which French historians have wrongly translated as Sendivoge. The Germans, who call it Sendivog, do not come any closer to its real name, which was Sensophax. He was born in the year 1566 in Moravia. But a house that he owned in Krakow, and which came to him from the estate of a gentleman, Jacob Sandimir, of whom he was a natural son, caused the error of his contemporaries, who, almost all of them, say that he was born in Poland. , and that of an author from this country who included it in a catalog of the Polish nobility. Moreover, Sendivogius himself never protested against the epithet Polonus, which, during his lifetime, was everywhere added to his name.

If there remained any doubt on this point, it would only be the first and least of the difficulties which are met with in the history of Sendivogius. This story, in fact, seems to have been confused at will by an anonymous German, author of a biography of Sendivogius, which he claims to have composed based on the verbal report of Jean Bodowski, the philosopher's butler (12 ).

The anonymous author, to whom his quality as Sendivogius's lawyer seems so important to posterity, that he gives it to us three times, with the variants that the Latin language, in which he writes, can provide him ( 13), begins his story by reproducing the error common to most of his compatriots on the origin of his client: “He was, he tells us, a Polish baron whose house was in Gravarne, on the borders of Poland and Silesia, a few leagues from Breslau. »

Then, without having said a word about his fortune, he adds that “his income was increased by lead mines, located in the territory of Krakow, capital of Upper Poland. »

This first error of the German biographer shows with what confidence we must accept the explanation he gives us of the origin of his hero's hermetic knowledge. If we are to believe it, having been sent to the East by the Emperor Rudolph II, with what we would call today a scientific mission, Sendivogius would have received from a Greek patriarch the revelation of the mystery of Hermetic science, that is to say, the way of composing the philosophers' stone.

What is true is that Michael Sendivogius, who had spent his youth very diligently, had acquired a just reputation in the art, useful to his country, of mining. As for his hermetic knowledge, it is established historically that he had produced nothing remarkable in this respect before his residence in Dresden, and his affair with the Cosmopolitan, prisoner of Christian II.

In order not to repeat here the details of the adventure that we have just related, we will only recall the cruel tortures that the unfortunate Sethon resigns himself to endure rather than reveal to the miser Christian the secret of the stone of the wise, his captivity painful, his deliverance by Sendivogius who brings him to Poland and receives from him, as a reward, the precious powder which,

The ambition of Sendivogius was not satisfied with the gift he had received from his friend. He was then thirty-eight years old; he loved good food and took pleasure in continuing the lifestyle and the great existence that he had begun in Dresden, when, to recommend himself by his generosity to the young nobles of the country, and to seduce the guards of the prison of Sethon, he spent the price of his house in Krakow so frivolously.

To suffice for expenses without calculation, one needs wealth without limits. Sendivogius thus dreamed, in this kind, of a sort of infinity which the philosopher's stone would no doubt have realized; but he did not know the art of composing it, for Sethon, dying, had refused to reveal it to him. Hoping to learn something from the adept's widow, Sendivogius married her, but he was to find there only another disappointment.

After her kidnapping, the young bourgeoisie from Munich became the Cosmopolite's wife only to witness his imprisonment and death in a few months; she knew nothing and had made no remark likely to enlighten her new husband. She could only deliver Sethon's manuscript to him along with a remnant of the adept's philosopher's powder. Of these two objects, Sendivogius, as we shall see, nevertheless knew how to draw a fairly good advantage.

She could only deliver Sethon's manuscript to him along with a remnant of the adept's philosopher's powder. Of these two objects, Sendivogius, as we shall see, nevertheless knew how to draw a fairly good advantage. She could only deliver Sethon's manuscript to him along with a remainder of the adept's philosopher's powder. From these two objects, Sendivogius, as we will see, nevertheless knew how to make fairly good use of these two objects.

The manuscript composed by Sethon had the title: the Twelve Treatises, or the Cosmopolitan, with the dialogue between Mercury and the alchemist. While studying this treatise, Sendivogius initially had a rather bad inspiration. By interpreting it in his own way, he believed he had discovered, not the way of preparing a new philosopher's stone, but the means of increasing, of multiplying the one he had received from his friend. But he only succeeded in reducing it considerably. He would have done better to use it directly to make gold.

This resource would have been very necessary to meet the demands of the lavish life he continued to lead. He wanted at all costs to be seen as an adept, and in order to give this opinion of himself, he spared nothing, making his projections in public, and lavishing his tincture as if he had the means to renew it. It was noticed, however, that he showed himself more economical when he was not excited by the interest of producing a great public effect. When traveling, he kept it in a golden box, which he did not carry himself, but entrusted to his butler; the latter kept her hidden under his clothes, suspended from his neck by a golden chain. But most of it was locked away in a secret compartment in the footboard of his car.

Through his numerous screenings, Sendivogius quickly acquired great fame. All the courts of Germany were impatient to receive his visit. Emperor Rudolph II, the German Hermes, had every title to be honored first: Sendivogius went to Prague Castle. Very well received by the emperor, he recognized this good reception by giving the monarch a small quantity of his powder with which Rodolphe himself carried out a transmutation into gold. To immortalize the memory of the success of this experiment, Rudolph II had a marble table embedded in the wall of the apartment where it was carried out, bearing this Latin inscription of his composition: Faciat hoc quispiam alius, Quod fecit Sendivogius
Polonus (Let someone else do this, which Sendivogius did
Polish)!

In 1740, this inscription could still be seen in the same place in Prague Castle. So that nothing was missing from the splendor of this great day of hermetic splendor, the cyclical poet of the blowers, Mordecai of Delia, celebrated it in verses less precious than marble, but just as poetic as the Latin of his imperial master. Finally the emperor gave Sendivogius the title of his advisor, and presented him with his medal, which the philosopher wore from then on gloriously and ostensibly everywhere.

This emperor, who so well rewarded a philosopher in possession of the hermetic secret, was nevertheless the same one who kept under the bolts of the White Tower the poor goldsmith of Strasbourg Gustenhover, suspected only of hiding the same secret from him. Did this difference come, as has been claimed, from the fact that Sendivogius had had the prudence to protest that he was ignorant of the process of the preparation of the philosopher's stone, assuring that he only held it from the inheritance of 'a follower ?

It is rather probable that what stopped the Emperor here was the quality of Sendivogius: the title of Pole, which everyone gave him, prevented Rodolphe from using it with this gentleman as with a simple bourgeois of his maid. city ​​of Strasbourg.

Continuing his tour of the princely residences, Sendivogius left Bohemia to go to the court of Poland, where people showed great curiosity to see him. But a mishap, quite unfortunate for him, signaled his journey. As he was crossing Moravia, a lord of the country, informed of his passage, lay in ambush on his way, seized him and held him prisoner, putting as price for his deliverance the secret of the philosopher's stone.

The sinister end of Alexander Sethon no doubt then returned to the mind of our philosopher, and if he had wanted to be a martyr like his illustrious master, the opportunity was fine. He preferred to attempt an escape. With a file that he could obtain, he cut the bars of his window, he made a rope out of his clothes and fled naked through the countryside.

Once free, he had the perfidious count summoned before the emperor. The latter made a judgment in this affair intended to make all the greats of the empire understand that a man honored with the title of his advisor was not a lucky catch. In addition to a considerable fine imposed on the count, he condemned him to give Sendivogius one of his lands; it was precisely that of Gravarne, mentioned in the first lines of the anonymous biography, who attributes it to him while being mistaken about its origin. What is certain is that, from the time when this land was granted to him as compensation for his unfortunate adventure, Sendivogius made it his favorite residence,

Sendivogius made several transmutations in Warsaw, but none had the brilliance of that of Prague. His powder was beginning to run out, and he was reduced to being sparing with it. However, his reputation followed an inverse progression, because it increased every day.

Duke Frederick of Württemberg wanted to know him, and wrote to the King of Poland Sigismund, to ask him to send him the philosopher. He set off, walking in small increments, accompanied by his butler, Jean Bodowski, who always carried, hidden under his clothes, the supply of philosopher's stone. When the travel chest was dry, we stopped to make gold, then we resumed our journey. They thus arrived in Stuttgart, where Sendivogius, under the name of Marshal Seriskau, spent the entire summer of 1605.

Frederick welcomed the alchemist with extraordinary kindness. So, instead of one projection which had been requested, Sendivogius made two. The amazed duke redoubled his respect and consideration for him: in order to put him, at his court, on the footing of a prince of the blood, he granted him, as a sort of appanage, the land of Neidlingen.

The philosopher's pride had finally found its complete satisfaction. Sendivogius therefore savored with delight the long envied treasures of fame and greatness; he was unaware that in the shadow of these brilliant appearances a perfidious plot was being hatched.

Very curious, always, about hermetic science, Duke Frederick had not waited for Sendivogius to devote himself to this type of work. He had in his pay an adventurer of the kind whom the prevailing disease of the century had placed in credit at the court of princes, where they occupied a sort of official position. Alongside or instead of his titular madman or poet, each monarch then had his maintained alchemist.

The man who held this office at the court of Stuttgart had started out as the emperor's barber. Having since become a servant of the adept Daniel Rappolt, he had taken with him some tincture of hermetics, and later completed his education by traveling the country with itinerant alchemists to learn the tricks of evasion and the tricks of the charlatans prompters. He had not feared going to present himself to the Emperor Rudolph, who admitted him to carry out some operations, not in his person, but in the laboratory of his valet Jean Frank. The emperor, who had entertained himself for a moment with his suspicious transmutations, had named him Count of Mullenfels, and then let him go.

It was with this title that he presented himself at the court of Stuttgart to display talents which, in the absence of any comparison, were held in a certain esteem. This alchemist was therefore, at the court of Duke Frederick, on a decent footing. But the successes of Sendivogius made the star of his credit noticeably fade; Mullenfels therefore resolved to take revenge and at the same time appropriate the happy instrument of his colleague's fortune.

Mullenfels did not commit the clumsiness of denigrating his rival. He showed himself, on the contrary, as enthusiastic as the rest of the court about the merits of the new adept, and he was always found eager to extol his talents. If he spoke on behalf of the Lord of Neidiingen, if he spoke to him himself, it was never other than to praise him with all the exaggeration of hyperboles that his hatred could provide him with. The vanity of the person to whom he was speaking ensured in advance that no excess of flattery would appear suspicious.

Once insinuated in this manner into the mind of Sendivogius, and in possession of all his confidence, he was able to put into execution the plan which he had conceived. He therefore persuades the follower that Duke Frederick is planning to seize his person to extract his secret. All the favor that surrounds him, all the honors that are lavished on him, are only so many chains by which they want to bind him, and which will soon change into heavier chains.

A miserly tyrant threatens his freedom; no means will cost the prince to snatch from the unfortunate follower the treasure he envies. All this bore a singular resemblance to the misfortunes of the Cosmopolite, for which Sendivogius felt no imitative fervor. He was afraid; he believed everything and only thought of fleeing. Mullenfels then showed him the shortest way to reach the border; but barely had the philosopher set out in the early hours of the night when his traitorous colleague set off in pursuit with twelve armed men on horseback. We arrest, in the name of the prince, the fugitive,

After this feat, Mullenfels once again became the leading alchemist at the court of Stuttgart; he made marvelous projections with the stolen powder. As for Sendivogius, we lost track of him for a year and a half after this sad adventure; he undoubtedly remained, during this interval, detained in some prison in Württemberg.

As soon as this affair became known in Germany, public opinion did not hesitate. Rightly or wrongly, it was admitted that the Duke of Württemberg was complicit in this ambush, which he ordered or authorized. This was the opinion of the king of Poland, whose protection Sendivogius' wife went to claim; it was again that of the Emperor Rudolph, when Sendivogius, free at last, came to ask him for justice.
Taking the adept's cause in hand, the Emperor Rudolf sent an express to Duke Frederick to summon him to deliver Mullenfels to him. Before the emperor's envoy, the duke felt or simulated great anger at the imputation of which he was the subject.

He returned Rodolphe's medal with its gold chain, and the string of diamonds taken from the fugitive; as for the gunpowder, he assured that he had never been aware of it. Finally Mullenfels, condemned to death by his order, was hanged following the ceremonial followed in Germany for the torture of alchemists. They were covered, from head to toe, with a golden garment of tinsel, and they were hung on a golden gallows. Only Duke Frederick still goes further on the ordinary staging; because this time the patient was hoisted to the top of three gibbets erected for this purpose. By this execution, say our philosopher's biographers, he appeased the emperor without proving his own innocence (14). These last events took place in 1607.

This affair therefore appeared to be concluded in accordance with justice, and to the satisfaction of all. Sendivogius alone was dissatisfied, because his priceless treasure, his philosopher's powder, was never returned to him. Her glory and her talent had gone with her. Its active history does not resume, in fact, until about eighteen years later. But what a story now and what a decline!
It is in Warsaw that we find it in 1625, continuing its ordinary operations. He only makes a very sad face.

Sethon's heritage had been reduced to so little that it was necessary to take care of these thin reliefs. This is what Sendivogius did, going about it in different more or less honest ways. Becoming a sort of charlatan, he sold a so-called philosopher's stone as a universal remedy. Desnoyers, the author of the letter or rather of the memoir which provided us with the most precise information on its history, tells us the fact in these terms:

“Finally,” said Desnoyers, “seeing that he had little of this powder left, he decided to take some spirits of wine, which he rectified, and put the rest of his powder in; and he played the doctor, putting all the others to shame by the marvelous cures he performed. It is in this same liquor that, having made red the medal I have, which is a rixdale of Rodolphe, he transmuted it; and this he did before Sigismund III, whom again he cured of a very unfortunate accident with the same elixir. Thus Sendivogius used up all his powder and his liquor, and for this he said to the grand marshal of the kingdom, Mr. Wolski, that, if he had had the means to work, he would have made similar powder.

“M. Wolski, who was a great prompter, believed him, and gave him six thousand francs to work with. He spent them and did nothing. The grand marshal, who was fined six thousand francs, told Sendivogius that he was an affront, and that he could, if he wanted, have him hanged; but that he forgave him, on the condition that he would seek the means to return his money. But as this man had a lot of reputation, being learned, he was called by Mr. Mniszok, palatine of Sandomir, who also gave him six thousand francs to work with; of these six thousand francs, he gave three thousand to the marshal, and worked with the other three, but always in vain.

Finally, having nothing left, he became a charlatan. He had a gold coin neatly welded with a silver one, which he then had marked with the coin, and then he whitened it all with mercury; and pretending to still have his elixir, he made this part redden in the fire, where the mercury was leaving, and dipping the part which was gold completely red, he made it appear that he had transmuted it; through this, he always retained some sort of credit with the ignorant, to whom he sold the piece for more than it cost him; but clairvoyants easily saw that he did not have the secret he wanted people to believe. »

A German writer informs us of one of the operations carried out by Sendivogius during his decline. This is the so-called transmutation of a silver coin. Sendivogius depicted, with a brush, certain lines, using a very fine powder, which was undoubtedly only a compound of gold; he then put coals on top. The lines traced by the powder were changed to gold, that is to say gilded. “Not everyone,” adds the author, “was fooled by this artifice, but we let the charlatan do it until he died (15). »

Finally the anonymous biographer who defends Sendivogius with so much warmth and wants to pass him off as the true Cosmopolitan, relates facts of the same kind, further aggravated by a much bolder detail, and of which the other writers do not speak: his hero made and sold counterfeit money. But our author finds in this fact the most striking demonstration that Sendivogius really possessed the secret of the philosopher's stone. If he committed a crime, he told us, it was only to conceal his knowledge and prevent the dangers to which it would have exposed him among the vulgar. Let us quote this curious passage:

“He therefore pretended to be very poor depending on the circumstances; and often he went to bed as if gouty, or attacked by an illness which he did not know how to cure; and sometimes he made fake money, which he sold to the Jews of Poland; and finally, by various tricks, he removed the opinion that people had that he had the stone of philosophers, so that he passed rather for a deceiver than for a chemical philosopher. »

It is to be feared, for the memory of Sendivogius, that this last opinion is not the true one.

Let us end this story with a few lines on the works published under the name of Le Cosmopolite.

We have already said that the book of the Twelve Treatises, or the Treatise on Nature, was composed by Alexander Sethon and delivered by his widow to Sendivogius (16). From the year 1604, that is to say only a few months after the death of the Scot, Sendivogius had this manuscript printed in Krakow, with this epigraph: Divi leschi genus amo, Some time later, he published a Treatise on sulfur, of which he is believed to be the true author, with this other Latin epigraph: Angelus doce mihi jus.

Now, these two epigraphs being the anagram of Michael Sendivogius, one naturally had to infer that the two treatises emanated from the same author. It is, in fact, the opinion which is established and which persisted for a long time; she consumed and consecrated, so to speak, the confusion that other circumstances had already created between these two men, and in the midst of which the name of the true adept had ended up historically disappearing under that of the charlatan.

Sendivogius had not limited himself to this trick of the anagram in order to absorb the fame of his predecessor for his own profit. Having noticed contradictions between the two treatises, especially on this important point that, in the first, the author claims to have made the stone of the philosophers, while, in the second, he only declares to have received it from the friendship of A follower, Sendivogius altered the text of the Treatise on Nature, and had it reprinted at Prague and Frankfort with the changes in his manner.

But the Krakow edition remained, and these reprints became further evidence of its perfidy.

Independently of the Treatise on Sulfur, several hermetic works have been attributed to Sendivogius, among others the Treatise on Salt, Third Principle of Mineral Things, and the Salt Lamp of the Philosophers. But the first of these works, printed in 1651, is by Nuysement; the second, printed in 1658, is by Harprecht. It appears, moreover, that Sendivogius had composed a Treatise on the Salt of the Philosophers, which remained, after his death, in the hands of his daughter, and was never printed.

With these explanations, we can understand the materials contained in the French work, where we have brought together the treatises attributed to the Cosmopolite (17). As for the fifty-five letters published in French in 1672, under the title of Lettres du Cosmopolite, and dated Brussels, February and March 1646, they can be neither from Alexandre Sethon, who died in 1604, nor from Sendivogius, who, in that same year, 1646, died in Krakow at the age of eighty.

1. G. Morhof, Epistola ad Lengelottum de transmuta-tione metallorum.
2. We will see, subsequently, that if Dienheim does not name Scotland (Scotia), it is probably out of discretion.
4. J.-W. Dienheim, de Minerali medicinâ, Argentorati, 1610.
5. Epistola ad doctorem Schobinger.
6. Theatrum chemicum Mangeti.
7. Th. de Hoghelande, preface to the book entitled Historiae aliquot transmutationis metallicae.
8. Letter from Théôbald de Hoghelande to his brother: Historiae aliquot transmutationis metallicae, pro defensione alchemiœ. contra hostium rabiem. Coloniae, 1604.
9. George Morhof, Epistola de metallorum transmutatione.
10. Guldenfalk.
11. Letter from Desnoyers, secretary of Princess Marie de Gonzague, Queen of Poland, published in the History of Hermetic Philosophy by Lenglet Dufresnoy.
12. Vita Sendivogii, Poloni nobilis baronis, breviter descripta à quodam Germano, olim ejus oratore, patrono vel causidico.
13. Oratore, patrono, causidico, orator, defender, advocate.
14. Life of Sendivogius, taken from the Verbal Relation of John Bodowski. — Biography of Sendivogius, by Jean Lange. Hamburg, 1683.
15. Morhof, Epistola ad Lengelottum.
16. The Treatise on Nature, which is not distinguished by any particular quality from the rest of the Hermetic works, nevertheless contains, under the title of Dialogue of Mercury, of Nature and of the Alchemist, a very curious piece to read. The continuation of this instructive dialogue is found in the Sulfur Treatise.
17. The Works of the Cosmopolitan, or new chemical light, to serve as a clarification of the three principles of nature, exactly described in the following three treatises: 1° the Treatise on Sulfur; 2° the Mercury Treaty; 3° the Treatise on the True Salt of the Philosophers. Paris, 1691, in-18.

CHAPTER V.

THE SOCIETY OF THE ROSICROIX.

THE alchemical, medical, theosophical, cabalistic and even thaumaturgical brotherhood, which is hidden under the name of the Société des Rose-Croix, made so much noise in France and especially in Germany at the beginning of the 17th century; so great a number of apologetic or critical writings have been published on its subject, from 1613 to 1630, that we are not allowed to forget this sect in the history of the principal notabilities of alchemy. But we must first warn readers who like positive facts and precise information, of the impossibility where we are to satisfy them entirely. Unless, in fact, we want to affirm or deny without proof or sufficient reason, we will often be forced to let our story float in a certain vagueness, which is that of the subject itself and which also results from the formal will of the founder of the Rosicrucians. An article of their statutes bears in express terms:

"This society must be kept secret for a hundred and twenty years." »

This clause was so well observed that at the very time when they shone with their brightest brilliance on the horizon of the. Theosophists, the Rosicrucians described themselves as invisible, and they were so invisible that Descartes, whose curiosity they had aroused with their manifesto, made the most diligent searches in Germany without being able to find a single person belonging to their society.

In a word, the mystery in which they enveloped themselves—joined to the cloud with which God, they said, had taken care to cover them to shelter them from their enemies—had succeeded so well in making them elusive, that more than one historian has believed himself justified in casting doubt on their existence. We will not push skepticism so far.

The impossibility of knowing individually by their names, and to follow separately in their actions, the members of this untraceable society, does not seem to us a decisive argument against the testimonies and the indices which certify its existence. Only, because of the shadows that surround it, we would gladly ask permission to add the epithet of fantastic to all those we have previously given it.

How was the brotherhood of the Rose-Croix formed? Here, if we are to believe an extremely widespread legend, what was its origin.

Towards the end of the fourteenth century, a German named Christian Rosenkreuz traveled to the East to learn the science of the sages. Born in 1378, of very poor although noble parents, he was placed, from the age of five, in a monastery, where he learned the Greek and Latin languages.

Having reached his sixteenth year, he had fallen into the hands of a few magicians, in whose company he worked for five years. It was only after these first studies and this beginning of initiation that the young gentleman had taken off towards the lands of the East.

Rosenkreuz was barely twenty years old when he arrived in Türkiye. He stayed there for some time, and conceived part of his doctrine there. From there he passed into Palestine, and fell ill in Damascus. Having heard of the wise men of Arabia, he went to consult them at Damcar (1). The philosophers who lived in this city lived in a very extraordinary way.

Although they had never seen Rosenkreuz, they greeted him by name, received him with great expressions of friendship, and told him several things that had happened in his monastery in Germany during his twelve-year stay. that he had done there. They assured him, moreover, that he had been awaited by them for a long time, as the designated author of a general reformation of the world. To enable him to fulfill the great mission to which he was predestined, they communicated to him part of their secrets.

Rosenkreuz only left these courteous philosophers to go to Barbary to converse with the cabalists who were in large numbers in the city of Fez. Having obtained from the latter what he wanted, he passed to Spain; but it was not long before he was expelled for having attempted to establish, in this country of shady catholicity, the first foundations of his work of renovation. Finally he returned to his native country, which cannot be determined by any particular indication on the vast map of Germany.

He left there as a humanist, he returned enlightened. Rosenkreuz only left these courteous philosophers to go to Barbary to converse with the cabalists who were in large numbers in the city of Fez. Having obtained from the latter what he wanted, he passed to Spain; but it was not long before he was expelled for having attempted to establish, in this country of shady catholicity, the first foundations of his work of renovation. Finally he returned to his native country, which cannot be determined by any particular indication on the vast map of Germany.

He left there as a humanist, he returned enlightened. Rosenkreuz only left these courteous philosophers to go to Barbary to converse with the cabalists who were in large numbers in the city of Fez. Having obtained from the latter what he wanted, he passed to Spain; but it was not long before he was expelled for having attempted to establish, in this country of shady catholicity, the first foundations of his work of renovation. Finally he returned to his native country, which cannot be determined by any particular indication on the vast map of Germany.

He left there as a humanist, he returned enlightened. in this country of shady catholicity, the first foundations of his work of renovation. Finally he returned to his native country, which cannot be determined by any particular indication on the vast map of Germany. He left there as a humanist, he returned enlightened. in this country of shady catholicity, the first foundations of his work of renovation. Finally he returned to his native country, which cannot be determined by any particular indication on the vast map of Germany. He left there as a humanist, he returned enlightened.

Upon his return, Rosenkreuz revealed to a very small number of friends, others told only his three sons, the secret of his new philosophy. Then he locked himself in a cave, where he lived solitary until the age of one hundred and six years, always healthy in mind and body, free from illness and infirmity. It was in the year 1484 that God withdrew his spirit from him, leaving his body in the cave, which thus became his tomb. This tomb was to remain unknown to all until the time had come.

These times came in 1604, the very year of the death of the alchemist Sethon, a strange coincidence! In that year, in fact, chance brought the cave to light. A sun shining in the background, receiving its light from the sun of the world, was only meant to illuminate the tomb of Rosenkreuz. Its clarity nevertheless made it possible to recognize several curious objects contained in this little room. It was first a copper plate placed on an altar, and which bore this inscription engraved:

ACRC Alive, I have reserved for my sepulcher this compendium of light (2).
Then, four figures each accompanied by an epigraph. The first of these epigraphs was thus conceived: Never empty - the second, The yoke of the law - the third, The freedom of the Gospel - the fourth, The entire glory of God. There were also burning lamps, bells and mirrors of several shapes, books of various kinds, among others the Dictionary of Paracelsus' Words and the Little World (Microcosm). But of all the rarities that made up this inventory, the most remarkable was this inscription traced on the wall:

After six score years I will be discovered.

If we start, in fact, from 1484, the year of Rosenkreuz's death, these one hundred and twenty years just lead to the year 1604, and if the authority of the legend that we report is insufficient to admit that this year 1604 was marked by the discovery of the mysterious sepulcher, we cannot dispute at least that this was truly the time when a new society, the brotherhood of the Rosicrucians, began to be talked about, and, as we can see, say here literally, to come out from under the earth.

The preceding legend, concerning the origin of the Rosicrucian society, is recounted in a small book entitled: Fama fraternitatis Rosœ-Crucis (Manifesto of the Rosicrucian Brotherhood), which was published in 1613, or , following others, in l6l5, in Frankfurt-on-the-Oder (3). The composition of this booklet is attributed to Valentin Andreae, a learned theologian from Cawle, in the country of Württemberg. It is to the publication of this book that the birth of the Rosé-Croix society must be attributed.

By creating this philosophical association, Valentin Andreae aimed to realize a prophecy contained in the works of Paracelsus. A fanatical supporter of the doctrines of this famous man, Andrese had taken it into his head to justify one of the master's words. Paracelsus, in fact, had written in chapter VIII of his Book of Metals:

“God will allow us to make a discovery of greater importance, and which must remain hidden until the event of Elijah the Artist. Quod utilius Deus patefieri sinet, quod autem majoris momenti est, vulgo adhuc latet usque ad, Elioe Artistes adventum, quando est venerit.

In the first treatise of the same book we still used :

“And this is the truth, there is nothing hidden that must not be discovered; therefore there will come after me a wonderful being, who does not yet live, and who will reveal many things. Hoc item verum est, nihil est absconditum quod non sit retegendum; ideo postme veniet cujus magnale nondum vivit, qui inulta revelabit. »

These great discoveries, the revelation of which was promised, could be applied, given the hermetic concerns of the time, to the secret of the transmutation of metals. This is at least how the creator of the Rosicrucian society, Valentin Andréas, understood it, who said in his Manifesto:

“We promise more gold than the King of Spain gets from the two Indies; for Europe is pregnant, and she will give birth to a robust child. Plus auri pollicemur quam rex Hispaniae ex utrâque India auferrat. Europa enim praegnans est and robustum puerum pariet. »

Valentin Andreae took it upon himself to decide that this artist Elijah, this robust child of whom Paracelsus speaks, had to be understood, not as an individual, but as a collective being or an association. This is a point that could be granted to him without too much difficulty.

After the successive works of such a large number of scholars, such as Leonard Thurneysser, Adam de Bodenstein, Michel Toxitis, Valentin Antrapasus Siloranus, Pierre Sévérin, Gonthier d'Andernac, Donzellini, André Ellinger, etc., all of whom had attached to continuing and developing Paracelsus' system in isolation, without having been able to carry out the great work, the founder of the Rosicrucians could well believe himself authorized to decide the question in favor of a collective Elijah represented by his brotherhood.

The Rosicrucians were therefore, in our opinion, only a gathering of enthusiastic Paracelsists constituted as a society. The founder of this association, the editor of the Manifesto, Valentin Andreas, took the title of Knight of the Rose-Croix; it even bore on its seal a cross with four roses (4). By his feelings and his character, however, he was far from responding to the idea that we commonly have of innovators who realize vast philosophical plans in the world. He had no doctrinal fanaticism.

He was above all a man of spirit and philanthropy. Animated by a strong desire to perfect the religious belief and the social institutions of his time (5), he only sought his means of propaganda in persuasion and gentleness; while espousing the ideas of a great man to purify and extend them, he wanted to be the first to mock the enthusiasts who exaggerated his principles through unintelligent zeal. As early as 1603, he had written Christian Rosenkreuz's Chemical Wedding. He had composed this writing only to amuse himself by criticizing and ridiculing the alchemists and theosophists of that time. It has even been argued many times that he had also only composed in a spirit of satire and persiflage the Fama fraternitatis, which became the origin of the Rosicrucian society.

But this last opinion cannot be supported in the presence of acts accomplished subsequently by the author of this writing. he wanted to be the first to mock the enthusiasts who exaggerated his principles through unintelligent zeal. As early as 1603, he had written Christian Rosenkreuz's Chemical Wedding. He had only composed this writing to have fun criticizing and ridiculing the alchemists and theosophists of that time.

It has even been argued many times that he had also only composed in a spirit of satire and persiflage the Fama fraternitatis, which became the origin of the Rosicrucian society. But this last opinion cannot be supported in the presence of the acts subsequently carried out by the author of this writing. he wanted to be the first to make fun of enthusiasts who exaggerated his principles with unintelligent zeal.

As early as 1603, he had written Christian Rosenkreuz's Chemical Wedding. He had composed this writing only to amuse himself by criticizing and ridiculing the alchemists and theosophists of that time. It has even been argued many times that he had also only composed in a spirit of satire and persiflage the Fama fraternitatis, which became the origin of the Rosicrucian society.

But this last opinion cannot be supported in the presence of acts accomplished subsequently by the author of this writing. He had only composed this writing to have fun criticizing and ridiculing the alchemists and theosophists of that time. It has even been argued many times that he had also only composed in a spirit of satire and persiflage the Fama fraternitatis, which became the origin of the Rosicrucian society.

But this last opinion cannot be supported in the presence of the acts subsequently carried out by the author of this writing. He had composed this writing only to amuse himself by criticizing and ridiculing the alchemists and theosophists of that time. It has even been argued many times that he had also only composed in a spirit of satire and persiflage the Fama fraternitatis, which became the origin of the Rosicrucian society. But this last opinion cannot be supported in the presence of acts accomplished subsequently by the author of this writing.

In 1620, Valentin Andreae worked to establish a large religious society, under the title of Christian Fraternity. Its aim was to separate Christian theology from all the controversies that scholasticism had introduced into it, and thus to arrive at a simpler and better purified religious system. Valentin Andreae thought he would take all the necessary precautions to distinguish this new society from the Rosicrucian brotherhood (6). This brotherhood, which he had launched into the world, had ended up displeasing him, and in the writing he wrote in honor of his new religious society, he even ridiculed the credulity and lies of the Roses. Croix, who, from this time, began to play their great comedy in Germany. But, vain precautions!

Success and fashion were then for the enthusiasts, and everything benefited them. This confusion that Andreae had feared happened of its own accord; the Christian Brotherhood was absorbed into the society of the Rosicrucians, and Andreae found himself, despite himself, having contributed to increasing the number of their followers. It is from this last fact that many writers have wrongly argued that the society of the Rosicrucians owed its origin only to the jokes collected by Valentin Andreae in his writing Les Noces Chimiques de Christian
Rosenkreuz (7).

After this presentation of the origin which seems to us the most probable of the brotherhood of the Rosicrucians, we must not omit to point out the conjecture of those who think that this society was quite simply an attempt by several educated people, wishing to to bring into contact, in order to work, on a common program, for the advancement of sciences and philosophy, by communicating their ideas to each other.

In this hypothesis, the Rose-Croix would have formed as a sort of liberal Freemasonry. The very natural fear of arousing the suspicions of the spiritual and temporal powers would explain, in this case, the need for the brotherhood to surround itself in mystery, to declare itself invisible and to have no meeting place known to the public. . We could, moreover, hoping that the bizarre conditions of the new society would call attention and interest to its followers, and inspire in more than one enthusiast the ambition to belong to them.

We also know that several people took the title of Rosicrucians without being so, while many Rosicrucians dispensed with bearing this name (8). Finally, it is clear that the Rosicrucians did not fail to automatically include in their catalog the characters who seemed worthy of this honor. Many philosophers or famous men found themselves drawn there without their knowledge, from which the result was that if more than one illustrious scholar lent the brotherhood the support of his name and his glory, this one, on the other hand , paid, in public opinion, for many rascals with whom she had never fraternized. In good historical justice, it is therefore not on its personnel that we must judge it, but on its principles, and we are going to make them known.

The doctrine and rules of conduct of the brothers of the Rose-Croix are contained in the Manifesto of which we have spoken and in another small book entitled the Confession of Faith, which is annexed to the preceding one.

Although it has never been possible to know exactly what the great secret of the Rosicrucians contained, it is believed that it related to these four points: Transmutation of metals — the Art of prolonging life for several centuries — the Knowledge of what happens in distant places — the Application of the cabala and the science of numbers to the discovery of the most hidden things.

The number of brothers of the Rosicrucians was only four at the beginning of the brotherhood, Rosenkreuz having only revealed his secret to three companions, or, according to others, to his three sons. Their number soon increased to eight. They were all virgins. These founding followers met in! a chapel called of the Holy Spirit, and it was there that they distributed teachings and advice to new initiates.

Once entered into the bosom of the brotherhood, the brothers swore to each other an inviolable fidelity, and undertook, by oath, to keep their secret impenetrable to the profane. They were distinguished from each other only by serial numbers; individually or collectively, they had to content themselves with taking the name of the brotherhood, following the example of their first founder, who had never made himself known except under the title of enlightened brother of the RC. in the person of their master shows sufficiently in what close union they intended to live with his spirit, and how much they were resolved to follow faithfully the rule which he had laid down for them, the principal articles of which are as follows: "To practice medicine charitably and without receive no reward from anyone;

“Dress according to the customs of the countries where you are;

“Go, once every year, to the place of their general meeting, or provide in writing a legitimate excuse for their absence;

“Choose each one, when he feels the need, that is to say when he is at the moment of death, a successor capable of taking his place and representing him;

“Have the character of the RC as a sign of recognition between them and as a symbol of their congregation.

“Take the necessary precautions so that the place of their burial is unknown, when one of them happens to die in a foreign country.

“Keeping their society secret and hidden for one hundred and twenty years, and strongly believing that, if it were to fail, it could be reinstated in the sepulcher and monument of their first founder (9). »

With the strict observation of these precepts, the application of which presents, as we see, few difficulties, the Rosicrucians boast of obtaining graces and faculties such as God has never communicated. unlike any of his creatures. The Rosicrucians affirm, for example:

“That they are destined to accomplish the restoration of all things to a better state, before the end of the world arrives;

“That they have piety and wisdom to the highest degree, and that, for everything that can be desired from the graces of nature, they are peaceful possessors, and can dispense them as they judge appropriate;

“That wherever they may be, they know better the things that are happening in the rest of the world than if they were present to them;

“That they are not subject to hunger, nor to thirst, nor to old age, nor to disease, nor to any inconvenience of nature;

“Let them know by revelation those who are worthy to be admitted into their society;

“That they can at all times live as if they had existed from the beginning of the world, or if they were to remain until the end of the ages;

“That they have a book in which they can learn everything that is in the other books made or to be made;

“That they can force the most powerful spirits and demons to put themselves at their service, and attract to them, by the virtue of their song, pearls and precious stones;

“That God has covered them with a cloud to hide them from their enemies, and that no one can see them, unless he has eyes keener than those of the eagle;
“That the first eight brothers of the Rosicrucian had the gift of curing all illnesses, to the point that they were burdened by the multitude of afflicted people who came to them, and that one of them, well versed in the Cabal, as his book H testifies, had cured the Earl of Norfolk of leprosy,

“That God has deliberated to multiply the number of their company;
“That they found a new idiom to express the nature of all things;
“That by their means the triple diadem of the Pope will be reduced to powder;
“Let them confess freely, and publish, without any fear of rebuke, that the Pope is the Antichrist;

“Let them condemn the blasphemies of the East and the West, that is to say of Mahomet and the Pope, and recognize only two sacraments, with the ceremonies of the first Church, renewed by their congregation;
“Let them recognize the fourth monarchy, and the emperor of the Romans as their leader and that of all Christians;
“That they will furnish him with more gold and silver than the King of Spain has drawn from the Indies, both Eastern and Western, especially since their treasures are inexhaustible;
“That their college, which they call College of the Holy Spirit, cannot suffer any attack, even if a hundred thousand people had seen and noticed it;
“That they have in their libraries several mysterious books, one of which, the one that is most useful to them after the Bible, is the same that the illumined Reverend Father RC held in his own right hand after his death;
“Finally, that they are certain and assured that the truth of their maxims must last until the last period of the world (10). »

These are certainly very miraculous graces and faculties. Unfortunately, the facts were far from answering it; the subsequent history of the Society of the Rose-Croix shows clearly enough that all the propositions which we have just enumerated constituted the program of the questions which the brotherhood proposed to solve, and not the catalog of the things which were in its power.
We are very distressed, in fact, when we look for the wonders that the Rosicrucians have achieved.

In medicine, an art which they were to practice wherever they were, under the terms of their master's first commandment, the list of their triumphs is soon exhausted. We have already seen that they boasted of having cured an English earl of leprosy. They also claimed to have restored life to a king of Spain who had been dead for six hours. Apart from these two cures, the second of which is undoubtedly a miracle, but which has the fault of having had only themselves as witnesses and guarantors, their entire medical history consists of vague allegations and a few insignificant facts. , like the one that Gabriel Naudé reports to us in these terms:

“A certain pilgrim appeared like a flash, in the year 1615, in a city of Germany, and assisted as a doctor at the prognosis of death of a woman whom he had helped and succored with a few remedies; he pretended to have knowledge of languages ​​and a lot of curiosity regarding the knowledge of simple things; he gave some account of what had happened in town during his stay at this lodging; in short, except for the doctrine in which he was more prominent, he was in all respects similar to that wandering Jew whom Cayet describes to us in his seventeenth-year history, sober, taciturn, dressed negligently, not willingly remaining long in the same place, and less still. desirous of being frequented and recognized for such as he professed himself, namely third brother of the RC, as he declared to the doctor Moltherus, who, knowing perhaps as much as he, could not have been so persuaded to believe his stories, that he had not presented this story to us, and left it to our judgment to discern whether it was capable of establish certain proof of this Company (11). »

This story seems much more likely to us than that of a resurrected king of Spain. According to their statutes, the brothers of the Rosicrucians could not refrain from practicing medicine, unless they sometimes saw the sick die in their hands, as happens to ordinary doctors. However, what is surprising here is that it is a question of remedies.

Although their master Paracelsus has come down to posterity for having been the first to use heroic medicines unknown to galenists, he took pleasure, in his writings, in repeating emphatically that the true physician derives all his science from God, and he recommended , above all, in medicine, the use of cabalistic means. The Rosicrucians, who only developed the thaumaturgic part of Paracelsus' system, should therefore only invoke religious or moral influences among the sick.

They asserted, in fact, that they cured all illnesses by imagination and faith: a true Rose-Croix had only to look at a patient suffering from the most serious affection, so that at the He was instantly healed (12). It therefore seems to us that the brother of the Rose-Croix, in the consultation in which he took part with the doctor Moltherus, put himself in contradiction with the principles of his order, and that is probably why the woman in question died. . so that immediately he was healed (12).

It therefore seems to us that the brother of the Rose-Croix, in the consultation in which he took part with the doctor Moltherus, put himself in contradiction with the principles of his order, and that is probably why the woman in question died. . so that immediately he was healed (12). It therefore seems to us that the brother of the Rosicrucian, in the consultation in which he took part with the doctor Moltherus, put himself in contradiction with the principles of his order, and this is probably why the woman in question died.

In Hermetic philosophy, the history of the Rosicrucians is even less rich in facts if possible. This is especially where the brotherhood seems to us to have operated by imagination and imagination. They nevertheless boasted of making silver and gold at will, and there was no doubt in Germany of their success in this respect. Unfortunately, no witness comes to confirm their assertions, and the same absence of information is regrettable regarding the places where their projections were carried out, and regarding their manner of proceeding there. In the absence of other evidence, the wealth of the brotherhood could have served as a presumption in favor of their hermetic abilities; but these riches are as invisible as their persons, and the emperor of whom they speak does not appear to have ever received from their hands these masses of gold and silver which they had promised to provide him.

It may be objected that they were able to keep their property to devote to the service of the company, and, with this leverage, to exercise some important action abroad. But we see no trace of this action anywhere. Finally, if the Rosicrucians had distributed their treasures of Hermetic origin among themselves, they would have lived with magnificence.

However, on the contrary, in the rare places where we can see their passage, we almost always find them poor and uncomfortable. It is therefore very gratuitously that we have given credence to the transmutatory science of the Rosicrucians; all the evidence,

Among this number was, for example, Michel Potier (Poterius), a rather vain man who claimed to possess the most marvelous secrets of nature, and complained of being obliged to hide himself to avoid the obsessions of princes, all desirous of attach to their court. He boasted of possessing the philosopher's stone, and nevertheless offered to communicate the recipe for a salary, a contradiction as surprising as it is common among gold-making philosophers. Also Michel Potier, by dedicating to the Rosicrucians, with much praise of their science, his book on Pure Philosophy, makes us think that he was only inspired in this by the desire to make people believe to the public he held from this brotherhood celebrated the secrets he wanted to exploit.

Michel Mayer also celebrated the Rosicrucians in his book entitled: The true discovery or beneficent marvel found in Germany and communicated to the whole universe (13). But, in this work, the author, confining himself to repeating the words and promises of those he advocates, is only the simple echo of the Manifesto and the Confession of the brotherhood.

To these two authorities we can, if we wish, add a third of the same weight, that of Combach, a peripatetic philosopher, who, to exploit the vogue enjoyed by the Rose-Croix, addressed a preface to them at the beginning of his Metaphysics.
Thus the proofs of fact, the serious testimonies are completely lacking to establish that the Rosicrucians successfully devoted themselves to the work of metallic transmutation.

To believe that they made gold, we have no other reason than a logical argument which even happens to be nothing more than a begging of the principle, which is that, having, according to their profession of faith, all the faculties that God grants to men, and even some beyond, they must necessarily possess the power to act triumphantly on metals.

Let us take a look at the progress of the Rosicrucian society in some parts of Europe.

It was in Germany that she found the greatest number of her followers and the public most gullible to her promises. She made only one conquest in England, but this conquest was of the first order. Robert Fludd, a doctor in London, a very learned man and above all a very great writer, ardently embraced the theosophy of this sect. Extending his principles much further than had been done until then, he applied them to all branches of human knowledge.

The English theosophist nevertheless remained faithful to the principles of Christianity, because he assured that the Rosicrucians took their name from the mystical cross of Jesus Christ, which was dyed with his pink blood, and with which one achieves the possession of all imaginable arts. and infinite wisdom.

The system of the Rosicrucian brotherhood penetrated Italy; but he found there few followers, although he presented himself there partly stripped of the mystical aberrations with which the German spirit had embarrassed him. As for Spain, it had to deal with a sect of illuminati drawn from its own stock, the Alumbrados, which had arisen almost at the same time as the Rosicrucians.

These two sects were for some time confused, which, however, as it was later recognized, differed from each other both in their origin and in their aim.

In France, the Rose-Croix appeared a little late, and disappeared after a short mystification of which they were victims much more than the public.

This brotherhood had been stunning Germany for more than ten years when, in 1622,

“WE, DEPUTIES OF THE MAIN COLLEGE OF THE BROTHERS OF THE ROSICROIX, MAKE A STAY VISIBLE AND INVISIBLE IN THIS CITY, BY THE GRACE OF THE MOST HIGH, TOWARDS WHICH THE HEARTS OF THE RIGHTEOUS TURN. WE SHOW AND TEACH WITHOUT BOOKS OR MARKS TO SPEAK ALL KINDS OF LANGUAGES OF THE COUNTRIES WHERE WE WANT TO BE, TO DRIVE MEN, OUR LIKE MEN, FROM ERROR AND DEATH. »

This poster aroused a certain curiosity. People appeared somewhat eager to know these invisible beings about whom there was so much discussion on the right bank of the Rhine, and who were celebrated in thousands of brochures brought back from the Frankfurt fair. It was clearly visible, however, that the public did not put any faith in the promises of this singular announcement. This failure in public opinion, experienced by the Rosicrucians, this fiasco, as we say today, earned Parisians a second poster published in the same year, designed as follows:

“IF HE WANTS SOMEONE TO SEE US, OUT OF CURIOSITY ONLY, HE WILL NEVER COMMUNICATE WITH US; BUT, IF THE WILL REALLY LEADS HIM AND IN FACT TO REGISTER ON THE REGISTRY OF OUR CONFRATERNITY, WE WHO JUDGE THOUGHTS, WILL MAKE HIM SEE THE TRUTH OF OUR PROMISES; SO MUCH, THAT WE DO NOT PUT THE PLACE OF OUR DWELLING, SINCE THE THOUGHTS, JOINED TO THE REAL WILL OF THE READER, WILL BE ABLE TO MAKE OURSELVES KNOWN TO HIM AND HE TO US. »

This time the public showed the same disbelief with a much lesser dose of curiosity. We dispensed with undertaking research which would have given too much pleasure to people so eager to remain untraceable. Let us even say that in the eyes of many people the two placards seemed rather the work of some joker, who had wanted to put the idle and talkative into campaign, than the prospectus of a real deputation of the Rosicrucians.

Naturally positive and inclined to criticism, the French mind does not allow itself to be as easily lured by the lure of mystery as the good souls of the country across the Rhine. It must also be added that everywhere, and even in Germany, the Rosicrucians were beginning, at this time, to lose their prestige. In Germany, several had been condemned to the galleys; some had even been hanged for misdeeds which the authors do not specify, but which undoubtedly consisted in an indiscreet exercise of the faculty of attracting pearls and precious stones to themselves.

In short, all the honor that the brotherhood was able to obtain in France was to be performed, the following year, on the theater of the Hôtel de Bourgogne, in a play which did not even have the spirit of being performed. to applaud. It was impossible to fall more completely in any way. it was to be performed, the following year, on the theater of the Hôtel de Bourgogne, in a play which did not even have the thought of being applauded. It was impossible to fall more completely in any way. it was to be performed, the following year, on the theater of the Hôtel de Bourgogne, in a play which did not even have the thought of being applauded. It was impossible to fall more completely in any way.

So ill-treated by public indifference, the Rose-Croix nevertheless found in France a compensation which was not to be despised. Three Jesuits wrote about them or against them: Father Gaultier, Father Robert and Father Garasse. The first two suspect “that it was rather a mob of Anabaptists than a troop of magicians. » Garasse, a zealous theologian, found that it was necessary to place the Rosicrucians in the group of libertines, a word which, in his language and in that of the time, means atheist, or almost.

Whatever may be the opinions of these three fathers, it was indeed religious and moral doctrines which were to characterize the Rose-Croix in particular; all the rest of their program, without even excluding the transmutation of metals, was very secondary. Their ideas, in religious and moral terms, can be summed up in a few words.

The Rosicrucians announce, in their Concession of Faith, that the end of the world is approaching, and that soon the universe will undergo a general reformation of which they regard themselves as the predestined agents. But, to prelude this great restoration, they must begin by carrying out one of the same order in religion and morality, without worrying, despite their title, about the cross of Christ, nor about the Bible, from which they nevertheless derive all sciences, an oratorical precaution good to take at this time, even outside the countries of the Inquisition.

The truth is that in religion the Rosicrucians were free thinkers who believed themselves and must believe themselves superior to all revelation, since they claimed to communicate with God himself, either directly or indirectly, through the intermediary of nature.

What stopped, and what naturally had to stop the progress of this theosophical sect, was the religious reformation which was already accomplished at the beginning of the 17th century. The institution of Protestantism having seemed sufficient for the state of mind, the Rosicrucians were forced to renounce or postpone the reforms they had meditated on, this universal medicine which was to heal and console the world. Thus the material came to be lacking in the works of the brotherhood, and this is, we believe, the reason which explains its sudden disappearance.

After this period, there undoubtedly remained, as there will be in all times, minds individually devoted to theosophical speculations, but, from this moment, there was no longer, strictly speaking, a sect or brotherhood. of the Rosicrucians. Fifteen years after the publication of their manifesto, people no longer spoke of them, and people felt ashamed of having believed in their existence.

When, in 1630, Peter Mormius tried to bring them back on the scene, the States-General of Holland, to whom he addressed himself, did not even deign to listen to him. It happened that Europe had got rid of the Rose-Croix by indifference and without any other persecution than ridicule. Now, during the same time, the Alumbrados were, in Spain, in all the glory of their reign, although the Inquisition had not ceased to hunt them down and to burn them in honor of the faith. Such a rapprochement should well have made one think from that time that in such a matter there is nothing wiser, more humane, or more expeditious than tolerance.

1. Other writers say Damascus; we have preserved the name of Damcar, cited in the oldest writing on Rosenkreuz, although geographers have not indicated the existence of any city of this name in Arabia or in neighboring countries.

2. AC is the symbol under which initiates have always designated Rosenkreuz; RC, the indication common to members of the Rosicrucian society.

3. The Rosicrucians claimed to trace the first origins of their brotherhood much further back. They created a theosophical fiction that went back to the time of King Hiram, the wise Solomon and the fabulous Thaut. However, a scholar from Germany, Semler, who was busy researching the antiquity of their sect, found nothing conclusive on this question.

In his Collection to serve the history of the Rosicrucians, Semler only tells us that there existed, in the 14th century, an association of physicists and alchemists who pooled their science and their efforts to arrive at the discovery of the philosopher's stone. The same author adds that in 1591, an alchemist, Nicolas Barnaud, conceived the project of founding a hermetic society, and that he traveled, for this purpose, Germany and France. Finally, it is written in the respectable Echo of the order of the brothers R. †. C, that in 1597 an attempt was made to establish a secret association of theosophists who were to engage in an in-depth study of the cabalistic sciences.

These facts need to be singularly forced to enter the archives of the Rosicrucians, and justify their claims regarding the antiquity of their origin. Besides, an almost unanswerable objection against their antiquity results from the date of the appearance of their manifesto. La Fama fraternitatis, this book which serves as their gospel, so to speak, having been produced in the world at the same time as the brotherhood itself, we are entitled to think that they both belong to the same era.

4. German Mercury, March 1782.
5. Arnold, Scattered Leaves.
6. Andreae Turris Babel.
7. It would be important to know whether this name of Rosenkreuz can be considered historical. It would provide the natural etymology of the name that its followers adopted, while on the contrary we have always sought to explain it mystically by a certain relationship between the word Rosicrucian and the religious character of the work that they wanted. accomplish. But there is no more certainty on this point than on all the others.

8. Semler, Collection to serve the history of the Rose-Croix.
9. G. Naudé, Instructions to France on the truth of the history of the brothers of the Rose-Croix.
10. G. Naudé,
11. G. Naudé, Instruction à la France.
12. Sprengel, History of medicine, volume III.
13. Verum inventum, seu mimera Germantes, ab ipso. primitus reperta, e alli orbi communicata.

CHAPTER VI.

PHILALETHE.

THE character we are going to deal with appears in the history of alchemy as the heir and worthy successor of the Cosmopolitan. Born in 1612, therefore eight years after the latter's death, he made himself his successor, through an ardent zeal for preaching and alchemical propaganda, at the same time as, in other ways, he seemed to be attached to the sect. seventeenth-century Theosophists and Enlightened Ones.

But, if we are perfectly fixed on what this follower wants, we know neither where he comes from nor where he is going, and on these two points, we must almost stick to the vague terms by which Schmieder announces his arrival to us: “There was then, the German writer tells us, a miraculous appearance in the west of Europe! As to where and when this adept ended his career, no one has ever been able to discover; so the Germans had a great time finishing as a legend a story which naturally extends to whatever the imagination wants to add to it, and which, after more than two hundred years, is not yet known.

Philalethes himself teaches us that in 1645, when he wrote the most important of his works (1), he was in the thirty-third year of his life. He was therefore born in 1612; but in which country? It is generally believed to be in England. His real name is still quite a difficult problem. According to Wedel, his name was Thomas de Vaughan, which, with a slight variation, becomes Th. Vagan in Lenglet Dufresnoy. According to Hertodt, it is Childe.

Others claim that in America he was called Doctor Zheil, and that it was the same personage who, in the year 1636, came to Holland under the name of Carnobe. The need to hide in order to avoid the persecutions to which he was subjected doubtless led our follower to successively take these different names. However, it is the first that most historians admit as the true one.

It is based on the fact that there then existed in Wales a family of this name, of which one of the members, John Vaughan, was lord and peer of the kingdom in 1620, and another, Robert Vaughan, who studied at Oxford, in 1612, distinguished himself as an antiquary.

However, it is not by his family name that this adept is known in the splendor of art. Following the example of the Cosmopolite, he had adopted a pseudonym under which all his other names were erased in history. He called himself Philalethes, that is to say friend of the truth, with the first name of Irenaeus, which means the peaceful one. We believe, according to tradition, rather than on certain testimonies, that, in his youth, Philalethes made numerous projections in England, and we learn in the same way that, from the beginning of his essays, he was obliged to hide with infinite precautions.

It is an English writer, Urbiger, who alone vouches for the hermetic prowess accomplished by Philalethes in his youth. Urbiger assures us, taking it, if we are to believe it, from the king himself, that Charles II was informed by public voice that a young follower, his subject, was making a lot of noise in his States, by the number and brilliance of its projections (2). But when Charles II ascended the throne in 1659, Philalethes was forty-seven years old; he was therefore not the young adept, such as Urbiger represents him to us, exciting the lust of the English by the number and brilliance of his projections (3).

All historians agree that the tincture of Philalethes surpassed in power all those that had been seen until then, or that could be found in the hands of other followers of the seventeenth century. A single grain thrown on an ounce of mercury changed it into gold, and if one threw this ounce of transformed metal onto a quantity ten times larger of mercury, a dye was produced which could further ennoble nineteen thousand parts of metal. This figure being very little different from the result that Van Helmont obtained in the famous projection by which he was converted to the Hermetic philosophy, it was inferred that the unknown follower from whom the Dutch scientist had received the small quantity of powder from which he used was Philalethes himself.

The transmutation effected in Van Helmont is not the only one attributed to Philalethes. Events of the same kind which happened around the same time at Bérigard de Pisa, at Gros and at Morgenbesser, were attributed to this follower according to more or less well-founded presumptions. But if Philalethes had some interview with Van Helmont, Bérigard de Pisé, Gros or Morgenbesser - and with many others who, without being adepts themselves, made transmutations by means of a powder which was given to them by an unknown person , — it can only be after his return from the long journey he made in very distant countries.

Carried away by his ardent zeal for alchemical propaganda, Philalethes had, in fact, gone to America, where he spent several years of his life. Following Lenglet Dufresnoy, he made this trip very young; his stay in the other hemisphere was marked by facts which constitute the only somewhat historical part of his biography.

In English America, Philalethe became friends with one of his compatriots, the apothecary Starkey, a chemist whose name has survived, thanks to his discovery of turpentine soap. Philalethes worked in his laboratory, and, operating on a large scale, he produced, it is said, enormous quantities of gold and silver. He presented it several times to the apothecary and to his son, Georges Starkey. Returning to the mother country, the latter did not forget the great artist, and in a work printed in London, they published all the details and incidents of a liaison which honored them. They were perhaps more discreet about the manner in which this connection had broken down; but we can easily make up for their silence.

Philalethes was a simple and tidy man, of honest morals and frugal habits; We have also never really understood why he made so much gold, having no need for it for himself and always fearing to attract persecution by arousing envy. He had recognized that Starkey used things quite differently, and was in a hurry to spend all the gold he gave him on debauchery. This behavior alarmed our philosopher, who hastened to disappear.

Some authors attribute his flight to a thoughtlessness on the part of the apothecary's son. This young man, much loved by the follower, having received two ounces of white dye from him, would not have known how to keep this secret. There is nothing contradictory about these two versions: Philalèthe could have been led to separate from the Starkeys, both by the father's crazy spending and by the son's chattering vanity. After thus separating himself from his compatriots, our follower did not take long to leave America (4).

If what is said about Philalethes, from her birth until her departure from the continent, is based, as we have already said, only on a very vague tradition, her adventures after her return are hardly better known. We follow him only by the trace of his powder. The writers who have dealt with him suppose his passage or his presence in all the places in Europe where he had some projection. But very often these operations would show at most the use of his gifts or those of some other nomadic artist.

At that time, in fact, several of these generous practitioners were traveling in Europe, and Van Helmont assures us, for example, that he received his philosophical tincture from two strangers who had enough, one to make twenty tons of gold ,

It is according to such clues that Philalethes is made to wander in France, Italy, Switzerland, Germany and even the East Indies (5). It is again on these very indirect proofs that we rely to make the same follower the hero of the adventure which happened in 1666 at Helvetius, in the city of The Hague, and which we have reported in his place. To attribute this last transmutation to him, we base ourselves on an affirmation of the adept who, opening before Helvetius the box which contained his powder, assured that this powder was enough to make twenty tons of gold, that is to say exactly the figure declared by one of the strangers with whom Van Helmont had dealt (6). All we can say is that in 1666, Philalèthe gave one of his writings to Jean Lange,

It is therefore sufficiently established that on this date in 1666, Philalethes had reappeared in Europe. Nothing prevents us from admitting that he made screenings in England during the reign of Charles II. However, what is surprising, having regard to the habits of the princes of that time, is that the idea did not occur to Charles II of placing an artist such as Philalethes in the lodge. This restored Stuart, a prodigal prince and so poor in finances that, throughout his reign, he was the pensioner of Louis make in a quarter of an hour a hundred times more gold than he got from Dunkirk sold to France.

It was probably to the extreme prudence he brought to his conduct that Philalethes owed the privilege of escaping the attention of his sovereign. What this follower feared above all was the persecution of which several of his colleagues had become victims before him. Differing in this from his predecessor Alexander Sethon, he had no taste for philosophical martyrdom, and forgot none of the precautions necessary to avoid it. Always a fugitive, hiding everywhere like an outlaw, he concealed, under the appearance of poverty, the immense wealth that he created, along the way, through his miraculous art. This continual preoccupation with hiding one's life from prying eyes is evident at every moment in his writings, and we understand quite clearly,

However, thanks to his constant and wise precautions, Philalethes managed to avoid all these pitfalls, and the works he composed are almost proof that he was able to enjoy in his old age the tranquility he had so desired.

Of all these works, the most precious to consult, the one we have already invoked, the Introitus, is the only one in which the author has painted himself, and which reveals to us the man at the same time as the adept. It is to this source that we must turn to know the character and philosophical feelings of Philalethes.

The great secret possessed and exploited by this adept seems to have been the philosopher's stone, used both as an agent of metallic transmutation and as a universal medicine. Philalethe practiced the art of healing by means of his philosopher's powder. In this he followed the example of many alchemists, and particularly that of the theosophists of the school of Paracelsus. This is not, moreover, the only trait of resemblance that we find between Philalethes and the Rose-Croix. Without naming them, he meets them so often and even so literally, that one could take him for a member of their brotherhood. Like the brothers of the R.-C., he speaks of this artist Elijah whose advent and miracles were predicted by Paracelsus.

“I announce,” he tells us, “all these things to men as a preacher, so that before I die I may still not be useless to the world. Be, my book, be the forerunner of Elijah, prepare the way of the Lord (7). »

“You have no reason to accuse me of jealousy, because I write with courage, in an unusual style, in the honor of God and for the usefulness of my neighbor, and to make him despise the world and its riches: because already the artist Elijah is born, and admirable things are said about the city of God (8). »

We know that this artist Elijah, predestined to accomplish the happiest as well as the most radical of all revolutions, not only in the hermetic world, but in all moral and material nature, was, according to the claim of the Rosicrucians, a Messiah. collective which had taken as its mystical body their very brotherhood. The city of God was the universe transformed by Elijah, and of which Philalethes speaks in these magnificent terms:

“A few more years, and I hope that silver will be as despised as dross, and that we will see this beast, contrary to the spirit of Jesus Christ, fall to ruin. The people are crazy about it, and the foolish nations adore this useless and heavy metal like a divinity. Is this what must serve our next redemption and our future hopes? Is it by this that we will anchor in the new Jerusalem, when its squares are paved with gold, when pearls and precious stones form its gates, and when the tree of life placed in the midst of paradise will give back with its leaves the health to all humankind?

“I foresee that my writings will be as esteemed as the purest gold and silver, and that, thanks to my works, these metals will be as despised as dung. Believe me, young men, and you, old men, the time will soon appear. I do not say it out of a vainly heated imagination, but I see in my mind that all of us, as long as we are, are going to come together from the four corners of the world; then we will no longer fear the snares that have been set against our life, and we will give thanks to God, our Lord. My heart makes me sense unknown wonders. My spirit thrills me with the feeling of good, which will soon come to all Israel, the people of God (9). »

Philalethes had a very religious spirit: it was claimed that he was Catholic, which would explain why he would have chosen France for his last asylum, as some have suggested. We saw, from one of the quotations reported above, that he paid homage in general terms to the religion of Christ. In no other place in his writings is he more explicit, and the Christianity he professes is even combined with a very tender and very frequently manifested interest in the Israelites. We had already noticed the same particularity in Nicolas Flamel, to whom Philalèthe is very close by the honesty of morals, the modesty of tastes, the sobriety of the diet, and above all by this striking trait, which both would have liked to multiply the mass of precious metals,

The Introitus apertus ad occlusum régis palatium, or the Open Entrance to the Closed Palace of the King, considered a work of Hermetic philosophy, is not only the most important of all those of the author, it is also, in the opinion of the followers, the most learned, the most systematic and the most complete that this science has produced.

1. Introitus apertus ad occlusum regis palatium.
2. Urbiger, Confusea.
3. Urbiger commits an error of the same kind when he again cites Charles II as having spoken of a misadventure that Philalethes himself recounts, but which he very explicitly says happened to him in England. After having listed all the dangers to which the followers are exposed by the quantity or the too good quality of the precious metals which they produce:

“We experienced it ourselves,” adds Philalethes, “when, in a foreign country, we presented ourselves , disguised as a merchant, to sell 1,200 marks of very fine silver, because we had not dared to put alloy in it, each nation having its particular title, which is known to all goldsmiths. If we had said we had brought it from somewhere else, they would have asked for proof, and as a precaution, they would have arrested the seller, on the suspicion that this money would have been made by art.

What I note here happened to me; and, when I asked them how they knew that my money was in chemistry, they replied that they were not apprentices in their profession, that they knew it by the test, and that they distinguished very well the money which came from Spain, England and other countries, and that the one we presented was not from any known State. This speech made me escape furtively, leaving both my money and the value without ever claiming it. » they replied that they were not apprentices in their profession, that they knew it through testing, and that they distinguished very well the money that came from Spain, England and other countries, and that the one we presented was not under any known State.

This speech made me escape furtively, leaving both my money and the value without ever claiming it. » they replied that they were not apprentices in their profession, that they knew it through testing, and that they distinguished very well the money that came from Spain, England and other countries, and that the one we presented was not under any known State. This speech made me escape furtively, leaving both my money and the value without ever claiming it. »
(The True Philalethes or the Open Entrance to the Closed Palace of the King, chap. XIII.)

4. This stay of Philalethes in America is perfectly established. In addition to Starkey's testimony, we can also cite Michel Faustius on this subject. This physician-philosopher, to whom we owe a good edition of Philalethes' main work, claims to have known several Englishmen who were in correspondence with the adept at the same time. Finally, one of the glories of England, the scholar Boyle, was also in commerce with letters and even in friendly relations with Philalethes.
5. Morhof.
6. John. Frederici Helvetii vitulus aureus; Hagae, 1667.
7. The Open Entrance, chap. XIII.
8. Ibid., chap. XIII.
9. The Open Entrance, chap. XIII.

CHAPTER VII.

LASCARIS AND HIS ENVOYS.

We have seen from the first years of the seventeenth century, adepts traveling across Europe, no longer, as before, to teach the composition of the philosopher's stone, but to demonstrate, through positively marvelous actions, the reality of a science of which they intended to reserve the main secret. From this philosophical egg, incubated for so long in the laboratories of previous centuries, the chicken finally seemed to hatch.

Although small in number, the followers who had succeeded in completing the great work would have been enough to enrich or ruin the world; but most only wanted to convert him. For this they used factual proofs, more powerful on people's minds than any scientific demonstration. If they demanded faith, they only asked for it in the name of the miracles they knew how to perform; and to better convince the unbelievers, they most often had these miracles performed by foreign hands; then they slipped away as quickly as possible, after having distributed on the spot the product of these practical demonstrations, thus signaling their passage with a trail of gold.

This is how Alexander Sethon, Philalethes and several other less famous followers behaved, whose biographies we have not retraced, to avoid falling into repetitions. This apostolate continued into the eighteenth century, but under the auspices and by the orders of a single man, who seemed to organize it, extend it and direct it as a sovereign master. He alone possesses the great secret of the art; by his hands, and not by others, the powders or dyes which change base metals into precious metals are distributed; and these gifts that no one obtains from him except as a missionary of hermetic science, he measures them, not to the desires of some private ambition or cupidity,

In this astonishing character, who sums up in himself almost the entire history of alchemy in the 18th century, everything is problem and mystery: his name, his birth, his education, his person. We very rarely see his face, which seems to change in his different appearances. We do not know his residence and whether there are any other residences for him than the temporary residences where he is less often seen than suspected. Its very age is impossible to fix, for we know neither the first nor the last term of its life, which are united or seem to be sustained, for a century, in an environment always equally distant from youth and old age.

This famous stranger called himself Lascaris. Among all the names he took in his wandering life, this is at least the one that stuck with him. This name had been illustrated by several Greeks, and no doubt he had chosen it preferably, as suitable to confirm the oriental origin which he attributed to himself. Lascaris presented himself as the archimandrite of a convent on the island of Mitylene, and to justify this quality, he produced letters from the Greek patriarch of Constantinople. But what decided rather to attribute this origin to him was that he spoke the Greek language very well; we have even been led to find in him a descendant of the royal family of the Lascaris. He claimed to have received from the Patriarch of Constantinople the mission of collecting alms to redeem Christian prisoners in the East,

When he first appeared in Germany, towards the beginning of the eighteenth century, Lascaris was a man of forty or fifty years of age, according to the appreciation of Councilor Dippel, the most serious and often quoted witness among those who 'have seen. Dippel is the only one who seems particularly attached to following Lascaris, and it is this writer who provides us with the indications with the help of which we can surprise him from time to time in his fleeting appearances. Schmieder also tells us, but without mentioning any names, of several other reliable people who claimed to have seen and recognized the great adept. From their testimony, in agreement with that of Dippel, it follows that Lascaris was in an easy and even pleasant mood,

Such a communicative nature hardly accorded with the extreme precautions that our philosopher had to take to conceal his presence wherever he might be sought. We must therefore suppose that he had this pleasant humor only in the circle of a small number of people of whom he was sure, and that moreover he knew how to confine it to subjects of conversation foreign to alchemy. On this last point, discretion was imperatively ordered: his freedom and perhaps his life were at stake. The examples of Gustenhover, of Kelley, of Alexander Sethon, of Sendivogius and so many others, had for him a sad eloquence, and if the fate of these adepts had not sufficed to enlighten Lascaris on the cupidity and cruelty of princes, a tragic adventure, in which, it has been said,

An individual, who called himself a gentleman, presented himself one day to Frederick I, King of Prussia, and announced himself as possessing the secret art of the transmutation of metals. The king having wished to see him at work, the operation was carried out before his eyes, and it succeeded, for this gentleman had in his possession a little philosopher's powder. In the hope of advancing at court, he had the temerity to claim to know the preparation of this powder. A few days later, he received the order to prepare some in the interest of the State, that is to say the king.

He worked on it several times, but always to no avail. As he had not been afraid to offer his head as guarantor of his promises, the king, who had accepted this pledge, had it pitilessly cut off. We pretended, in truth, to motivate this execution by a more real crime; they recalled a duel, already old, in which this adventurer had killed his man. But no one was mistaken; everyone understood that, had it not been for the irritation of a king deceived in his greedy hopes, justice would not of itself have dreamed of reviving an affair of the kind that we most willingly forget.

Most authors have thought that none other than Lascaris, being known at that time in Germany, to possess the secret of the philosophers, it was from him that this powder so imprudently used before King Frederick came. Be that as it may, here is a second fact in which the presence and action of Lascaris are beyond doubt for German authors.

In the year 1701, Lascaris, having fallen ill while passing through Berlin, asked for an apothecary to order the remedies he needed. Master Zorn, to whom they sent, did not present himself; he was replaced by a student who had recently joined his house. The care with which this young man carried out his prescriptions greatly pleased our philosopher, whose illness, real or feigned, soon disappeared. They spoke together several times, and from these conversations, a sort of friendship and even intimacy resulted between them. This is because, during their conversation, the young man, without suspecting that he was speaking to an adept, had confided to him that he was dealing with hermetics, that he had read all the works of Basil Valentin, and that he worked from the writings of this master.

On the forehead of the young apothecary, Lascaris had no doubt recognized the seal of the apostolate. On leaving Berlin, he took him aside and told him what he was, adding that he wanted to leave him a token of his friendship. He gave her a present of two ounces of his gunpowder, recommending her not to indicate its origin, and above all not to use it until long after her departure. "Only then," he told her, "can you try out the virtues of this powder, and, know it well, the result will be such that no one in Berlin will dare to tax alchemists with madness." »

Lascaris having left, the deadline expired, and undoubtedly even a little shortened by the impatience of the young student, he proceeded to test his philosophical tincture. The result was marvelous and just as Lascaris had promised. He made gold, very pure gold, which he showed off with pride, and it was his turn to make fun of his comrades, who had so often made fun of him and of Basil Valentin. At the same time he announced to them his resolution to leave the pharmacy to study medicine in Halle; the same day, in fact, he took leave of his boss.

This young man must have been the most active and most renowned apostle of all those that Lascaris launched, armed with his powder, across Germany. His name was Jean-Frédéric Bötticher. But as his work, his adventures, and above all an important discovery with which he enriched the chemical arts, assign him a separate chapter in this gallery of the main hermetic characters, we will take up his story further, and we will then follow him in his career with all the interest it should inspire.

From his relations with Bötticher, we see that Lascaris, at the beginning of his hermetic propaganda, recruited his confidants and emissaries mainly in the laboratories. At the same time as Bötticher, two other students from pharmacies then traveled to the cities of western Germany, preaching the truth of alchemy. Now, as at this time, Councilor Dippel had recognized Lascaris in Darmstadt, one could hardly doubt that these young followers had received their instructions and their philosophical powders from him. However, these missionaries do not seem to have usefully served the cause of hermetic science; for they knew little more than what they had been shown, and could only be eloquent until their supply was exhausted.

The apothecary boys then had a very good time in Germany, and while in France the comic poets dared to continue to deride them, they took their revenge on the other side of the Rhine. This short period was, we can say, the golden age of pharmacy; it was believed, in Germany, that all pharmacopolis personnel, bosses, assistants, apprentices or boys, were hermetic adepts or on the point of becoming one. However, things did not go that far. It is true that at that time some students in pharmacy received a little philosopher's tincture as a present, but, says Schmieder rather naively, speaking to us of these apothecary assistants who had received and not invented the precious powder, "as soon as they had used it, they “had played their role and remained calm.

However, we cite a few who allowed themselves to be less forgotten; such was Godwin Hermann Braun, of Osnabruck. In 1701, the very year of the first appearance of Lascaris, this Braun, who had already exercised the profession of apothecary in Stuttgart, was placed in the great pharmacy of Frankfurt-am-Main. According to him, one of his parents had given him, on his deathbed, the transmutatory tincture he had in his possession; it was a fairly fluid oil and brown in color. To give it a particular character, Braun mixed it with copahu balsam, which took none of its strength away. In the presence of his boss, Doctor Eberhard, and a few other people, he executed several projections, sometimes on mercury, sometimes on lead; he made gold every time,

At Munster, Braun made the same experiment under the eyes of Doctor Horlacher, who published the fact. Horlacher claims to have taken his precautions not to be deceived. He had himself provided the crucible, the mercury and the lead. Braun poured four drops of his oil on wax, and made a ball of it which he threw on the mercury. He then covered the crucible, which he heated strongly: ten minutes later, gold had taken the place of mercury.

Braun was, however, only a chance follower. He knew so little about the preparation of his tincture that he imagined it came from phosphorus, because much attention was then paid to this substance. After he had consumed all his liquid, no more was spoken of him; but at least he had made hermetic propaganda in good place and with a certain brilliance.

Less brilliant in his acts, and also less faithful to his apostolate, was this other student in pharmacy whom Schmieder designates for us as the third missionary of Lascaris. He was a young Hessian, named Martin, born in Fritziar, where he had studied pharmacy. He claimed to get his tincture from an old doctor, who was an adept, and what's more, the husband of a young and pretty woman. When the worthy man died, an event which did not take long to happen, he did not leave his tincture as an inheritance to his wife, whose fidelity he had always suspected; he bequeathed it to the young student.

Schmieder, who transmits this story to us, nevertheless thinks that it was a pure fable of this young man, who, in reality, had received his philosopher's stone from Lascaris, but kept the fact secret, in accordance with the prescriptions of his master. We can only applaud the discretion of this docile missionary. What is less commendable, in its fact, is to have altered its powder by clumsy mixtures, and to have thus weakened it so much, that, according to the testimony of Dippel, it changed into gold only sixty times its weight of foreign metal. But the main point where this master is completely misunderstood, both the instructions of the great adept, and the very dignity of hermetic science, is that, instead of performing his projections in front of an elite audience, who would have given all the necessary publicity, he contented himself with operating for his comrades, in order to give himself some prominence among them, and for a few young girls, whom he had at heart to make themselves admired. Let's quickly move on to other characters and other facts,

In January 1704, the councilor of Wertherbourg, Liebknecht, received a mission to Vienna. On his return, he had as a traveling companion a foreigner who spoke very fluently French, Italian, Latin and Greek, and who had visited most of the countries of Europe. They were in Bohemia, so the conversation naturally turned to alchemy. The adviser, a man very stubborn in his opinions, denied the reality of this science, and only wanted to believe, he said, when he had seen with his own eyes.

On February 16, the two travelers arrived towards the evening at the small town of Asch, located on the Eger. Liebknecht's companion took him, without saying anything, to a blacksmith, to carry out an experiment in the fire of the forge; but, given the late hour, the experiment was postponed until the next day. The stranger put mercury in a crucible, then he threw in a red powder, which he quickly mixed with the metal.

The mercury began by solidifying, then it became fluid, and when it was poured, it was the most beautiful gold that could be seen.

A second crucible had been prepared, the stranger also placed mercury there, in order to repeat the previous experiment. “This time,” said the operator, “the gold is less beautiful than before. He promised to purify him. Immediately, he melted it in a new crucible, and threw into this crucible a small quantity of a certain powder; almost at the same moment the gold lost its color and became white. When the metal was cast, we found, in place of the gold which had been used, nine ounces of silver of the greatest purity. The gold obtained in the first experiment had a value of six ducats.

The foreigner offered both as gifts to Councilor Liebknecht, and left him to continue his journey towards France.

The person and the time agree perfectly with the information that Dippel gives on the account of Lascaris. On the other hand, this double transmutation of mercury into gold, and of gold into silver, is one of the most remarkable in the history of alchemy, and according to the hermetic writers, it manifestly reveals a great master, perhaps -to be the greatest of all. It is true that Lascaris usually abstained from making the projections himself, but it could be that in this circumstance he had departed from his usual reserve to convince an incredulous such as the adviser Liebknecht. We still preserve, at the University of Jena, the three crucibles which were used for these transmutations (1).

In October of the same year 1704, Georges Stolle, goldsmith in Leipsick, received a visit from a stranger, who, after a few moments of conversation on indifferent objects, asked him if he knew how to make gold. . To this question, the goldsmith answered simply that he only knew how to work this ready-made metal. But his visitor, insisting on asking him if, at least, he believed in the possibility of the fact: “I believe in it without a doubt,” replied Stolle; but, despite all my travels and my long research, I never had the opportunity to meet an artist skilled enough to give me proof.

At these words, the stranger, drawing from his pocket a metallic ingot of a greyish-yellow color, and which weighed about half a pound, presented it to the goldsmith as gold that he had just recently made. He assured that he had fourteen pounds of the same metal at home. The goldsmith hastened to test the ingot on the touchstone; it was twenty-two carat gold.

The stranger then invited him to treat him with antimony, in order to purify him. This is what Stolle executed; he melted this impure gold with five times its weight of antimony, and, after three similar treatments, he obtained twelve ounces of very brilliant gold. The stranger then invited him to treat him with antimony, in order to purify him.

This is what Stolle did; he melted this impure gold with five times its weight of antimony, and, after three similar treatments, he obtained twelve ounces of very brilliant gold. The stranger then invited him to treat it with antimony, in order to purify it. This is what Stolle did; he melted this impure gold with five times its weight of antimony, and, after three similar treatments, he obtained twelve ounces of very brilliant gold.

The stranger, having returned early the next day, ordered the gold to be rolled and cut into seven round pieces. He left two of them to Stolle, as a souvenir, adding eight ducats.

Although this event did not present anything very marvelous, it caused a lot of noise in Leipsick, thanks to the comments with which the goldsmith knew how to embellish it to give himself importance. The gold coins that remained with him bore this inscription:

0 tu... philosophorum.
Augustus, King of Poland, received one as a gift, the other was deposited in the Leipsick medal collection.

Lascaris was then in Saxony, in the vicinity of Leipsick, and we do not see any other follower to whom the fact related by Stolle could be more properly attributed.

It is much more certain that another character, Schmolz de Dierbach, who lived at the same time, received his powder and his mission from Lascaris. Schmolz himself recounted the circumstances in which he was honored with the confidence of the great adept. He was a lieutenant colonel in the Polish service. One day, with other officers, in a café in Lissa, we came to talk about alchemy and alchemists. The young officer's comrades did not fear to ridicule and blame his father, who had spent all his property in the work of this vain science, and thereby reduced his son to the necessity of embracing the profession of arms. Dierbach vigorously defended both alchemy and his father.

Among those present was a stranger who seemed to listen to this discussion with keen interest. When everyone had retired, he approached the officer and expressed to him all the pain he had felt at the blame inflicted on the memory of his father and at the bad compliments the son had received in defending it. It was then that he presented Dierbach with a certain quantity of projection powder, only putting this condition on his gift, that the young officer would only use it to obtain three ducats per week during the space seven years old.

We recognize Lascaris here by his liberality; but Schmolz de Dierbach embroidered many tales on this very simple adventure. He wanted, by this, to give fashion to his powder, for he had hastened to leave the service and took pleasure in astonishing his friends by his transmutations.

Councilor Dippel, being in Frankfurt am Main, was able to examine Dierbach's tincture. The description he gave allows us to give, once and for all, a reasonable explanation, in our opinion at least, of the prodigies of Lascaris. According to Dippel, Dierbach's powder was of a reddish color; Seen under a microscope, it revealed a multitude of small red or orange grains or crystals. For a skeptic, or rather for a chemist, these orange-red crystals bear a singular resemblance to gold chloride, and if this was really the composition of the Lascaris tincture, it could take, at will, the liquid or solid form, since gold chloride is very soluble in water, and even deliquesces in air.

Dippel adds, it is true, that a part by weight of this tincture changed six hundred parts of silver into gold, but he himself destroys the confidence that could be placed in his assertions when he adds: "This tincture could even produce an increase in the weight of the metals, because sixty grains of silver where half a grain of Dierbach powder was mixed gave one hundred and seventy-two grains of gold. »

This last fact, which would have constituted a physical impossibility, goes beyond the claims of all alchemists, who have never seriously claimed to be able to increase the absolute weight of a body without the addition of any foreign matter. “This tincture could even produce an increase in the weight of the metals, because sixty grains of silver where half a grain of Dierbach powder was mixed gave one hundred and seventy-two grains of gold. »

This last fact, which would have constituted a physical impossibility, goes beyond the claims of all alchemists, who have never seriously claimed to be able to increase the absolute weight of a body without the addition of any foreign matter. “This tincture could even produce an increase in the weight of the metals, because sixty grains of silver where half a grain of Dierbach powder was mixed gave one hundred and seventy-two grains of gold. »

This last fact, which would have constituted a physical impossibility, goes beyond the claims of all alchemists, who have never seriously claimed to be able to increase the absolute weight of a body without the addition of any foreign matter.

Another fact further confirms the opinion that the tincture given to Dierbach by Lascaris was nothing other than gold chloride, which was used sometimes in solid form, sometimes in concentrated aqueous solution; Dippel adds that it was enough to heat this powder to obtain the precious metal; now, as all chemists know, the compound we are talking about, that is to say gold chloride, leaves, by simple calcination, pure gold.

Schmolz de Dierbach used Lascaris’ gift with great generosity. He never devoted the gold of experience to his personal needs; he distributed it to witnesses of the operation. Such disinterestedness was all the more noble in him because, finding himself at the head of a large household, with children and servants, and having been invested with the functions of deputy, his needs increased day by day. When the term of seven years imposed by Lascaris had expired, and he saw himself at the end of his powder, he did not fear to ask for help from people of high rank who knew of his adventure. Such virtue made him admired by his contemporaries; people hastened to come to his aid and assure him an honest existence; but it goes without saying that,

Moreover, from this moment on, if we still find many traces of an adept distributing philosopher's tincture, with the condition of using it for the greater glory of alchemy, which always reveals Lascaris, one no longer encounters a character formed, instructed, and, so to speak, commissioned for this preaching. Schmieder explains this change to us in this way. Young men, such as Botticher, Braun, Martin, and Dierbach, had been able to offer Lascaris the aid of great zeal; but the conduct of a few, and especially their deceptions, could compromise the great follower and give rise to doubts about his good faith. It is from this motive that from this time Lascaris, finding it wiser to suppress the apostles, took sole responsibility for hermetic propaganda.

In 1715, Baron de Creuz, who is cited as a zealous alchemist, received, in Hamburg, a visit from a foreigner whose conversation indicated deep knowledge of hermetics. The baron, who for thirty years had been searching without having found anything, admitted that his dearest desire would be fulfilled if he could only obtain from some adept a little philosopher's powder, in order to test its strength and convince those around him. of the truth of alchemy.

The stranger said nothing: only, when he had left, we found, near the place he had occupied in the apartment, a small box containing a powdery substance, with writing indicating how to operate. transmutations; the box still contained a silver buckle, only part of which was gold, undoubtedly to prove that, to carry out the transmutation with this powder, it was not necessary to molten the metals. The baron, having then invited his friends and some people of high rank to the experiment, operated before their eyes following the instructions that the adept had left in writing. The experiment was a complete success, and the gold and silver buckle was kept in his family as testimony to the fact (2).

Another amateur, the Landgrave Ernest-Louis of Hesse-Darmstadt, felt his emulation aroused by the transmutation carried out at the Baron de Creuz. He tried a lot, but got nothing good, when in 1716 he received in the mail a small package sent by the same stranger who had visited the baron. This packet contained the red and white dyes, with instructions on how to use them. The landgrave took the pleasure of changing lead into gold and silver himself. With the gold he had a few hundred ducats minted in 1717 which bore the effigy and name of the landgrave on one side, the Hessian lion and the two letters EL on the other. one hundred thalers also bearing his name and effigy on one side, and the two letters EL on the other surrounded by a quadruple crown; in the middle was the Hessian lion with its sun.

The thalers bore this Latin inscription:
Sic Deo placuit in tribulationibus. 1717.
Thus it pleased God in tribulations. 1717

A stranger presented himself one evening at Tankestein Castle, located in the Odenwald forest, a branch of the Black Forest; this castle was inhabited by Countess Anne-Sophie d'Erbach. The stranger begged the chatelaine to protect him against the pursuit of the Elector Palatine. At first they refused to receive him, because they took him for a poacher and perhaps even for a forest bandit. However, at his insistence, the Countess agreed to grant him a room in a secluded part of the buildings, recommending, however, that the people of the house keep an eye on him. The stranger spent a few days at the castle. When leaving, and to recognize the hospitality he had received,

This singular proposal only further confirmed the Comtesse d'Erbach in her suspicions; she saw in her guest only a bold thief who was planning to rid her of her silverware. However, as he was very insistent, she decided, just by chance, to entrust him with a pool of money, ordering him to redouble his surveillance. So many suspicions were ill-founded, because the stranger soon reappeared holding in his hand a gold ingot that he had made from the silver basin.

At the request of the alchemist, this gold was tried in the neighboring town, where it was found to be of the best quality. The Countess of Erbach then agreed to deliver all her dishes to her host, who undertook to pay for them in the event of failure. But the operation succeeded perfectly; whatever was given to him in silver he returned in gold. When, as he was leaving, this great artist presented himself to take leave of the countess, the latter had the naivety to offer him a purse containing two hundred thalers. He refused with a smile, then left as he had come and without saying his name.

This adventure had a sequel which soon gave it perfect authenticity. The Countess of Erbach's husband, Count Frederic-Charles, with whom the Erbach family died in 1731, was then living in the army. Long separated from his wife, he did not worry about it; but his memory returned to him as soon as he was informed of the new riches which the Countess had just acquired. He claimed half of the gold dishes, because this increase in value had been achieved during the marriage and under the regime of the community. The Countess having refused this request, he seized the courts. But the juris-consults of Leipsick rejected it and abandoned to the countess the entire ownership of the object in dispute, expected, says the decree of the court of Leipsick, that “the silver plate, belonging to” the woman, the gold should also belong to her (3). »

Schmieder and other German authors do not doubt that Lascaris was the anonymous guest of the chatelaine of Tankestein (4).

But the reader is undoubtedly keen to find some more precise information on the processes that Lascaris used to carry out his transmutations. We will find them, as far as we can hope, in the two facts which follow:

The first relates to a transmutation recounted by Dippel, and which took place in the Netherlands during the autumn of 1707.

Finding himself in Amsterdam, Dippel met a follower who had the red and white dyes in his possession, but who modestly admitted not knowing how to prepare them. He claimed to have them from a great master, with orders to make public experiments so that everyone was edified on the truth of alchemy. But this is how Dippel saw him proceed.

The operator took a round copper blade a foot in diameter; he placed it on a furnace, arranging to heat only an inner circle of about eight inches, the rest of the metal being protected from the action of the fire; it is then that, the adept placing in the middle of the heated copper disk a little of his white tincture, this circle of eight inches was changed into silver. The same metal plate was then placed on a smaller furnace, so that the heated circle was only four inches in diameter, he deposited in the middle a small speck of red dye which changed this silver circle to gold.

This experience would not present anything very difficult to understand if Dippel did not add in conclusion: "The artist did not limit himself to showing the exterior of the plate, but he cut it into pieces to show fans of the alchemy that the tincture had also acted inside; he sold these pieces to them at a very moderate price. »

The first part of this experiment can be explained without difficulty, if we admit that the white or red philosopher's dye was only a compound of silver or gold which, through the effect of heat, covered the copper from a layer of either metal. But, to explain that the pieces distributed by the follower were truly solid silver or gold, it is necessary to attribute a trick of sleight of hand to his account. This is what we can grant without insulting Lascaris, because it was not he himself who carried out this experiment, but one of his envoys. Dippel informs us of this, and his testimony cannot leave any doubt, since he knew the great adept.

If in the preceding fact we do not find a sufficiently precise description of the processes implemented by the missionaries of Lascaris, the one which remains to be made known to us in this respect gives full satisfaction to curiosity. A report meticulously drawn up by the witnesses of the operations, and which has been preserved to this day, makes it possible to understand all the particularities of the experiments which were carried out.

One of the emissaries of Lascaris arrived at Vienna in the month of July, 1716, and convoked an assembly of the most considerable persons of the city, in order to convince the incredulity by a solemn trial. The session took place in the palace of the commander of Vienna. To remove any suspicion of fraud, care was taken not to use crucibles or devices of any kind. We only took a copper coin, a pfennig, we heated it red-hot, and, after projecting a small quantity of Lascaris' tincture on its surface, we immersed it in a certain liquid. The piece transformed into silver was removed, and the metal resisted the test of the cup. The small quantity of dye used remained on the surface of the piece without experiencing any apparent alteration:

it was a white powder, not unlike sea salt. It was found, from the weight of the materials employed, that one part of the tincture had transmuted ten thousand times its weight of copper.

The report of these experiments, drawn up by Councilor Pantzer of Hesse, in memoriam et fidem rei, was delivered to print according to an authentic copy. Here is the translation of the original text of this singular document, which Murr reproduced in his Literary News:

“Done in Vienna, July 20, 1716, the seventh Sunday after Trinity, in the apartment of the advisor to the Prince of Schwartzbourg, Lord Wolf-Philippe Pantzer, in the house belonging to the imperial general, commander of the residence of the Emperor and the Fortress of Vienna, Lord Count Charles-Ernest of Rappach, in the presence of the Imperial and Bohemian Vice-Chancellor, commander of the German expedition, His Excellency Count Joseph of Würben and Freudenthal, in the presence of Lord Ernest , secret advisor to the King of Prussia, and Lord Wolf, secret advisor to the Prince of Brandenburg-Culmbach and Anspach, in the presence of the brothers Count and Baron of Metternich, as well as the advisor of Schwartzbourg, named above, and his son Jean-Christophe-Philippe Pantzer.

“1° Around ten o'clock in the morning, the aforementioned people gathered at the designated place. One of them brought the philosopher's powder in a paper: it was in an infinitely small quantity, and had the appearance of sea salt; they weighed it, and found a lot (half an ounce) of it (5).

“2° Those present weighed 2 copper pfennigs, one of which had been taken from the Vienna poorhouse, the weight of the first was found to be 100 drachmas 8 1/2 grains, that of the second, made in 1607 , in Hungary, of 68 pounds 16 loths.

“3° We heated the first one, which the councilor of Schwartzbourg removed with iron tongs; Lord Wolf, Baron Metternich, surrounded it with a little wax and covered one side of the pfennig in surface.

“4. The Bohemian vice-chancellor, who feared that the pfennig would melt, made it blush, then he threw it into a certain water, and he withdrew it so quickly that he burned his fingers.

“5. All saw that the pfennig, red when it had been immersed in water, was white when it was withdrawn, with certain marks which proved that it had already begun to melt.

“6. The same operation was begun with the second pfennig, and the result was the same as that already obtained by Lord Wolf, Baron de Metternich.

“7° But we didn’t stop there; we also heated other smaller pfennigs, we subjected them to the same operation, and, after removing them, we noticed that the color was changed, but that they were not completely white. The two Metternich brothers paid great attention to it.

“8° We took a piece of copper in the shape of a prism, we threw it into the same water after having heated it, and we saw that, in certain parts, it had changed color, but less than the first two pfennigs.

“9° We cut a piece of this copper, we did the same operation, and it became completely white.

“10° We tried it with another piece of copper, but we noticed that it had come out of the water without having changed color.

“11° The largest of the pfennigs of article 2 was cut in two, and we noticed that it was white inside and out; Count Ernest de Metternich took half, and Baron Wolf de Metternich the other half.

“12° From this last half, they cut a small piece weighing 2 pounds, put it in the dish, and found by calculation that the whole pfennig had changed into silver weighing 40 loths.

“13° We put the small piece of article 9 in the cup, and we found 12 loths of silver.

“14° We did the same with a piece of article 8, and we found that it was silver; but, as it had not been weighed beforehand, we could not know exactly in what proportion it had been formed.

“15° As soon as there was no longer any doubt that the copper had been changed into silver, they looked for the weight of the silver; the pfennigs of art were weighed. 2: the first weighed 125 pounds 8 loths, that is to say 25 pounds more than before; the second weighed 79 pounds 16 loths;
that is to say, 11 pounds more than before, which astonished those present no less than the transmutation itself.

“16° We cannot calculate exactly how much copper a part of the dye ennobled, because we had not weighed the copper used in art. 7 and s. 8. However, if she had only changed the two pfennigs, it would result that one part of dye would have changed 5,400 parts of copper into 6,552 parts of silver, and, therefore, we are not much wrong in saying that one part of dye had transmuted 10,000 parts of metal (6).

“Actum loco in die ut supra, in memoriam et fidem rei sic gestce factos quee verce transmutationis (Act in the same place on the day as above, in memory and faith of the thing thus done as a verse of transfiguration).
v. LS Joseph, Count of Würben and Freudenthal.
“LS Wolf, Baron de Metternich.
“LS Ernest, Count of Metternich.
“LS Wolf-Philippe Pantzer. »

To dissipate the marvelousness of the experiments which were carried out at the home of Lord Wolf-Philippe Pantzer, we believe that it is enough to focus one's attention on this certain water of which the minutes speak; it must have played a much more serious role in transmutation than the indifferent terms by which it is designated seem to indicate. This liquid could not be anything other than a concentrated solution of silver nitrogen, a colorless liquor, as we know, and which nothing distinguishes from water by its external appearance.

Copper objects previously heated and soaked in this solution emerged covered with a layer of metallic silver. What proves the truth of the explanation that we believe we can present of the preceding facts is that copper objects, by undergoing this supposed transmutation, increased significantly in weight, as article 15 notes; this increase in weight could only come from the silver precipitated on the surface of the copper.

We understand, moreover, that after having undergone this supposed transmutation, the metal resisted the action of the cup; in this operation, the copper of the pfennig disappeared into the substance of the dish, and the silver, which had remained in a thick layer on the surface of the metal, formed the return button. One can wonder, it is true, how the authors of this experiment were so mistaken about the nature of the liquid in which the pieces were immersed, and did not have the idea of ​​submitting it to analysis, before proceeding. to no operation.

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As an appendix to the history of Lascaris, it remains for us to recall the adventures of three followers in possession of his tincture, who left traces in Germany and France that history and criticism must follow. attach to retain. These three followers are Botticher and Gaetano for Germany, and for France the Provençal Delisle. The importance of the role that these three characters play in the history of alchemy in the last century obliges us to grant each of them a special chapter, as if to mark the place they occupy, no next to, but following their master.

BOTTICHER.

We have already caught a glimpse of this adept at the beginning of the career of Lascaris, we have seen him receive from the great adept the hermetic investiture; we will follow him here in the main phases of his life.

Jean-Frédéric Bötticher was born on February 4, 1682, in Schiaitz, in Voigdand, in Saxony (7). He was largely raised in Magdeburg, with his father, who worked at the mint. The latter had ideas clearly focused on the occult sciences, and claimed to possess the secret of the philosopher's stone. It was probably to the education he received from his father that young Bötticher owed the predilections he showed early on for the secret sciences. He had a very pronounced dose of superstition, and placed a certain importance on being born on Sunday, which gave him, according to a prejudice of time, the faculty of reading into the future.

Having had the misfortune of losing his father, and his mother having married for a second time, he had to think about taking up a profession. He was only nineteen years old when he entered as an apprentice with the apothecary Zorn in Berlin. It was in 1701, that is to say the very year of his entry into pharmacy, that the beginning of his affair with Lascaris took place and these intimate conversations in which the young apprentice confided to the great adept his hermetic studies. and his diligent reading of Basile Valentin.

Barely had he received from Lascaris the high mission of which this great master had deemed him worthy, barely had he made his first projection, that the young initiate swore to live only in the society of alchemists. We saw how he immediately rushed to leave Master Zorn's laboratory. The latter, however, did not take long to offer him an opportunity to return there, with the secret hope of keeping him there. He invited young Bötticher to dinner one day when he received two foreign people at his table, the priest Winkier, from Magdeburg, and the priest Borst, from Malchon. Master Zorn's guests gathered all their eloquence to persuade the young man to return to his profession and renounce a chimerical art. “You will never make the impossible possible,” he was told. " To theses words, the young man rising: “Impossible! he cried in a furious tone; and he immediately went to the laboratory, saying that he was going to carry out this impossible thing.

All the guests having followed him into the laboratory, Bötticher took a crucible, and prepared to melt lead in it, but he was dissuaded, for fear that the metal he was going to use had undergone some preparation. prior. It was therefore money that he placed there; he took a weight of about three ounces, which he heated strongly in the crucible. After a few moments, taking a small silver bottle from his pocket, he took a little of the philosopher's stone; it was, Schmieder tells us, a substance having the shape of a fiery red glass. Bötticher threw a small grain onto the molten silver and heated it even hotter. Finally he cast the metal and showed it to the unbelievers, who were forced to recognize that it was perfectly pure gold.

Bötticher lived in great intimacy with a certain Siebert, operator, as the Germans call someone who runs a pharmacy laboratory. He performed before his eyes a projection as remarkable as the previous one. Siebert put eight ounces of mercury into a crucible, Bötticher threw in a red powder mixed with wax, as big as a grain of wheat. The mercury was transformed into a brown powder which was mixed with eight ounces of lead previously held in fusion. A quarter of an hour later, everything was changed to gold.

By the preceding transmutations, and by a few others which he carried out to convince other unbelieving friends, Bötticher quickly became the lion of Berlin. Only, it was the false lion of the fable, because it was only the skin of it. This alchemist by proxy assured everywhere that he knew how to prepare the philosophical tincture that he used, and he was believed for two reasons: firstly because Lascaris did not appear; secondly, because it was known that Bötticher had been brought up with Master Zorn, which clearly shows what a high opinion people then had of apothecary assistants.

It must be believed, however, that a little satire was mixed with this admiration, because, according to Schmieder, people in Berlin allowed themselves to call our alchemist adeptus ineptus.

The rumors from the city having reached the court, King Frederick William I wanted to witness a transmutation, and consequently ordered to ascertain the person of Bötticher. Already the order had been issued to seize him; but, warned in time, he left Berlin during the night and proceeded on foot towards the town of Wittenberg. As he had just crossed the Elbe, he saw, at a certain distance behind him, a Prussian commander who had been sent in pursuit. He only had time to throw himself into a nearby wood to escape her.

Bötticher had an uncle in Wittenberg; it was Professor Georges Gaspard Kirchmaier, who is cited among the alchemical writers; he took refuge at home. But the King of Prussia wanted to possess this living treasure with all his might; he therefore had him claimed from the city of Wittenberg, as a Prussian subject, because Bötticher was believed to be born in Magdeburg. For his part, the Elector of Saxony, Augustus II, King of Poland, also claimed him as his subject. It was to the latter of these two monarchs that Bötticher surrendered, but undoubtedly in an entirely different interest than that of having the question of its origin decided between the two courts.

In Dresden, the adept was perfectly received, and the elector of Saxony, delighted with the proofs made in his presence, hastened to name him baron. Once he achieved honors, Bötticher forgot everything; he no longer thought about his medical studies and was only occupied with his pleasures; based on the lifestyle he led for two years in the capital of Saxony, one would even be tempted to believe that he had lost his mind. He built himself a superb house where he gave splendid meals; these meals were very frequent, because he never failed to put a gold coin under the napkin of each guest. The ladies especially were eager to do so. We liked to play with him, because he only wanted to lose. In a word, he was, in high society, everyone's dear friend.

All these expenses, all these prodigalities, undoubtedly greatly enhanced the apostolate that the young adept accomplished with so much conscience and zeal, but they also significantly reduced his supply of philosopher's powder. He had quite gratuitously got it into his head that he could, thanks to the talents that everyone recognized in him, renew it without resorting to Lascaris. Misled by this illusion, he continued to lavish its remnants without measure.

He ended up exhausting it to the last grain, tried to compose another and could not succeed.

His source of gold once dried up, spending had suddenly ceased at the alchemist. The courtiers of his fortune, his ordinary and extraordinary parasites, naturally began by turning their backs on him; then, their resentment having increased with the memory of the enjoyments they had lost, they denounced him as a spy. As this calumny could not find credence, others were sought. His servants, displeased because they were not paid, joined forces with his enemies and spread the rumor that he was preparing to flee. From that moment and on the orders of the elector, his house was surrounded by soldiers, and his apartments occupied by guards who kept him prisoner in his hotel. Bötticher understood then, a little late, no doubt,

However Lascaris, who was still traveling in Germany, had not lost sight of his young friend. He had learned of his departure for Dresden and of what had happened to him in the capital of Saxony. At the bad turn the affair seemed to take, he regretted being the indirect cause of the situation in which Bötticher found himself; and resolved to spare no sacrifice to get him out. It was for this purpose that he went to Berlin in 1703.

During his stay in this city, Bötticher had established a close relationship with a young doctor named Pasch, a man of a determined character. Lascaris addressed himself to him. In a long conversation they had together, Lascaris painted him a moving picture of the sad position of their friend and persuaded him to devote himself to his deliverance.

Pasch agreed to go to Dresden to certify Bötticher's innocence to Augustus II and at the same time offer him a ransom of eight hundred thousand ducats. However, Doctor Pasch expressed some doubts, having difficulty believing that Lascaris could have such a considerable sum at his disposal. Then the great adept, taking him by the hand, led him into a secluded apartment, and revealed to him all his supply of philosopher's tincture. She weighed six pounds. He added that, thanks to his art, this mass would change a hundred pounds of gold into a new philosopher's stone, which could convert three or four thousand times its weight of a base metal into gold. As a final argument, Lascaris performed a transmutation with his tincture in front of Doctor Pasch, and ended up promising to make him as rich as Bötticher if he managed to free him.

How can we resist this dazzling display of irresistible argument? The doctor set off. In Dresden he had two parents, great lords and very influential at court. Hoping to obtain an audience with the voters through their credit, he addressed them and communicated his plans. But his parents were experienced people and very knowledgeable about the habits of the classes.

They judged, with great reason, that the offer made to the King of Poland of such a prodigious sum could only better ensure the captivity of Bötticher, given that there would be no doubt that all the gold in question should not have been fabricated by the prisoner. They therefore proposed not to make any overtures to the king and to work in silence to prepare the alchemist's escape.
Pasch approved this plan; he installed himself in a house adjoining that of Bötticher, and began by establishing a correspondence through the windows with the prisoner, who was thus made aware of the preparations made for his deliverance.

His servants were soon bought, who became the intermediaries of an easier and more detailed correspondence. Everything went well until the king's people noticed that something was going on between the two friends. The order immediately arrived to seize Doctor Pasch, who was thrown into the fortress of Sonnenstein; Bötticher himself was locked up in that of Kœnigstein, and entrusted to the custody of Count Tschirnhaus. However, a laboratory was made available to him to enable him to continue his alchemy research.

Pasch had been a prisoner of the Elector of Saxony for two and a half years, when one of the soldiers who guarded him showed himself willing to facilitate his escape. Both let themselves slide along a rope, which, unfortunately, did not reach all the way to the ground. The soldier escaped without accident, but Pasch fell on the rocks and broke his sternum. His companion dragged him as best he could to the borders of Bohemia and from there to Berlin, where he arrived in the saddest state. As he had not seen Lascaris since the day of their interview, Pasch complained bitterly of the suffering and dangers to which he had unnecessarily exposed himself.

His complaints having reached the court, King Frederick summoned him and seemed to listen with interest to the story of his misfortunes. Of course, from this moment, that Bötticher was not a true follower, Frédéric no longer regretted it and perhaps reproached himself for having pursued him with the relentlessness which had caused his misfortune, and consequently that of poor Pasch, who died six months after his arrival in Berlin. The foregoing details were passed on by Councilor Dippel, who had learned them from Pasch himself during the last days of the poor young man's life.

However, Bötticher still remained locked up in the Kœnigstein fortress. Entrusted to the custody of the Count of Tschirnhaus, he was to regain his freedom only after having redone the philosopher's tincture, or at least indicated what he used to do it, two conditions almost equal and for him equally impossible to fulfill.

But the voter's patience was at an end; he threatened the artist with all his anger. In these circumstances, Bötticher could expect the most sinister outcome, when an unexpected happiness came to rescue him from danger.

For a long time people in Europe had been trying to reproduce porcelain, which China and Japan had the exclusive privilege of preparing and whose manufacture was kept very secret in these two countries. In the 17th century, the princes undertook a lot of research to find the way to make this precious pottery, which astonished by its brilliance, its hardness and its translucency. The Elector of Saxony had entrusted Count Ehrenfried Walther of Tschirnhaus with special researches in this direction.

Now, it was under the particular supervision of the Count of Tschirnhaus that Bötticher, as we have seen, had been placed, by order of the elector, in the fortress of Koenigstein to continue his alchemical work there. Witness to the count's experiments relating to the manufacture of pottery similar to Chinese porcelain, our follower was naturally led to take part in his work. His talent as a chemist and his knowledge of mineralogy gave him the means to obtain interesting results in this type of research.

Count Tschirnhaus then decided him to devote himself entirely to this industrial problem, more serious and more important than the one for which the elector expected the solution. In 1704, Bötticher discovered how to obtain red porcelain, or rather porcelain stoneware, a type of pottery which only differs from porcelain in its opacity. It appears, however, that Bötticher had initially composed this new pottery only to make very refractory crucibles for his alchemical operations.

This first success, this first step in the imitation of Chinese porcelain, greatly satisfied the elector of Saxony, and it was to facilitate the continuation of his double work, that is to say his ceramic research. and his alchemical experiments, that, on September 22, 1707, this prince had Bötticher transported, from the fortress of Kœnigstein, to Dresden, or rather in the surroundings of this city, in a house equipped with a ceramic laboratory which the The elector had placed it on the Jungferbastei. It was there that Bötticher resumed his attempts to manufacture white porcelain with Count Tschirnhaus. However, there was no relaxation of the surveillance to which the chemist was subjected; he was still kept in custody. He sometimes obtained permission to go to Dresden; but then the Comte de Tschirnhaus, who answered for himself, accompanied him in his carriage.

We ask readers who might be tempted to doubt the veracity of these details, to kindly remember that in the 17th century the numerous attempts that were made in Europe for the manufacture of porcelain were everywhere shrouded in the greatest secrecy. rigorous; that the first porcelain factory which was established in Saxony, that of Albrechtsburg, was a veritable fortress with portcullis and drawbridge, the threshold of which no stranger could cross; that the workmen found guilty of indiscretion were condemned, as State criminals, to perpetual detention in the fortress of Kœnigstein, and that, to remind them of their duty, these words were written each month on the doors of the workshops:
Secret to the Tomb (8).

Thus, the elector of Saxony had two reasons to watch vigilantly over the person of Bötticher, busy, under his orders, in the double search for porcelain and the philosopher's stone.

Count Tschirnhaus died in 1708; but this event did not interrupt the work of Bötticher, who succeeded, the following year, in manufacturing true white porcelain, using the kaolin that he had discovered in Aue, near Schneeberg. It was in the midst of the close surveillance with which he continued to be surrounded that our chemist was forced to carry out the difficult and lengthy tests which led to this important discovery. But his natural cheerfulness was not alarmed by these obstacles. It was necessary to spend entire nights around the porcelain kilns, and during firing trials which lasted three or four uninterrupted days, Bötticher did not leave the place and knew how to keep his workers awake with his sallies and his piquant conversation.

The manufacture of porcelain was better for Saxony than a gold factory.

Strengthened by the advantage he had just obtained, certain of enriching, through his discovery, the States of his master, Bötticher dared to admit to the elector that he did not possess the secret of the philosopher's stone, and that he had only ever worked with the dye that Lascaris had entrusted to him. The elector of Saxony pardoned Bötticher. The manufacture of porcelain was for his country a more serious treasure than that which he had so coveted.

A first factory of red porcelain had been established in Dresden in 1706, during the lifetime of the Count of Tschirnhaus; another in white porcelain was created in 1710, in Albert's castle in Meissen, when Bötticher discovered the successful use of Aue kaolin. Botticher regained all his honors and even his title of baron. He also received the well-deserved distinction of director of the Dresden porcelain factory. But, having become free again and having regained his brilliant position, he lost the habits of work which he had acquired during his captivity; from that moment he led a life of pleasure and luxury only, and died in 1719, at the age of thirty-seven.

DELISLE.

Among the envoys of Lascaris is the Provençal alchemist Delisle, whose operations caused a lot of noise in France in the last years of the reign of Louis XIV. But this opinion can only be accepted with a correction of a fairly serious nature, as we will see.

According to the author of the History of the. hermetic philosophy,

Lenglet-Dufresnoy, who had collected authentic information on this character, his contemporary, Delisle was nothing other than the servant of a philosopher who was said to possess projection powder. It is permissible to admit, with Schmieder, that this adept got his philosopher's stone, or rather his supply of gold, from Lascaris, because, around the year 1690, the time at which this philosopher, arriving from Italy, showed himself in the south of France, Lascaris traveled the Peninsula.

In any case, the operations of this follower having aroused some distrust, he was obliged to leave France, on an order emanating from Minister Louvois. He left for Switzerland, accompanied by Delisle, and it was while crossing the gorges of Savoy that Delisle allegedly murdered his master to steal the considerable supply of projection powder that he carried with him. Delisle returned to France disguised as a hermit. Did he find in his victim's papers the description of certain processes capable of simulating transmutations?

Did he practice the practices of this dangerous profession on his own? Or finally, what is more probable, was he simply using, for his operations, the tincture of Lascaris, which he had found contained in his master's casket? We ignore it. All we know is that, around 1706, he began to travel the country carrying out transmutations, and that he excited, in Languedoc, Dauphiné and Provence, an extraordinary emotion. He had only stopped for about three years in the village of Cisteron, where he had met, in one of the cabarets on the road, the wife of a certain Aluys, with whom he fell in love, and who kept him close to her during this interval.

He had a son, who bore the name of Aluys, and who, later, thanks to a small quantity of philosopher's tincture that his mother had left him as an inheritance, traveled, in Italy and Germany, the same career in which his father had excelled.

Delisle's operations consisted in transforming lead into gold, according to the common process of alchemists; he also had the particular talent of changing iron or steel objects into gold, a very simple chemical operation in itself, but which, carried out with skill and under the eyes of ignorant people, produced the effect of a true transformation. They sought with curiosity, in the country, various objects, partly of gold and of steel, such as nails, knives, rings, etc., coming from the hands of the alchemist of Cisteron; they were, however, only objects prepared in advance, which, thanks to a conjuring trick, seemed to come from a partial transmutation into silver or gold.

Delisle had thus made a prodigious reputation in Provence, Languedoc and Dauphiné. “We hastened,” Lenglet-Dufresnoy told us, “to be his friends; I would even say of his slaves. » The Bishop of Senez and a large number of eminent people, who had formed his defenders, formed a sort of court for him at the Château de la Palud. An old gentleman, who had several daughters to marry, had offered him a pleasant retirement in this castle. It was there that Delisle, a true hero of Provence, received visits every day from curious people from the country, who returned amazed at his talents and delighted to take away as a gift some singular object, fruit and visible testimony of the skill of this incomparable artist.

The rumor of Delisle's operations reached Versailles, and the court was moved. The order had been sent in 1707 to the intendant of the province to bring Delisle to Paris; but, under various pretexts, he had eluded this order. However, they wanted to push the matter to the end. Examination of such a question fell by right to the Comptroller General of Finance. Desmaretz, recently called to this post, was thus charged to seek what there was of base in the rumors which circulated on the alchemist of Cisteron. As the Bishop of Senez had been involved in everything concerning Delisle, it was to him that Desmaretz turned to obtain the information requested by the court.

At the same time as the Bishop of Senez had been charged with carrying out an investigation into Delisle, M. de Saint-Maurice, advisor to the king and president of the mint in Lyon, had received the invitation to have him operated on before his eyes. In accordance with the Minister's wishes, M. de Saint-Maurice had the alchemist work in his presence at the Château de Saint-Auban. The following report sets out the manner in which the operator proceeded to carry out two transmutations into gold, one on mercury, the second on lead. To understand the operations that will be described, you should know that Delisle prepared his projection powder by leaving the ingredients to remain in the earth for several months. Before carrying out the operations before the president of the mint,

Report by M. de Saint-Maurice, President of the Monnaie de Lyon.

“The tests and experiments which were carried out by the president of Saint-Maurice at the castle of Saint-Auban, in the month of May 1710, on the subject of the transmutation of metals into gold and silver, on the invitation which him was made by the sieur Delisle, to go to the said castle to make the said tests, are in the following manner:

" First experience. — The sieur de Saint-Maurice, led by the sieur Delisle and the abbot of Saint-Auban in the garden of the castle, had, by their order, earth removed from a flower bed, under which was a round board which covered a large wicker basket sunk in the ground, in the middle of which was suspended an iron wire, at the end of which was a piece of linen containing something. The Sieur de Saint-Maurice was given this piece of linen, which having been brought into the room of the castle, the Sieur Delisle told him to open it and expose to the sun on the window what was inside on a sheet of paper ; which having been, Mr. de Saint-Maurice recognized that it was a species of clinker or blackish and lumpy earth, about the weight of half a pound.

This land remained exposed to the sun for a quarter of an hour; after which the Sieur de Saint-Maurice enclosed everything in the same paper and went up with his men, the Sieur Lenoble, his provost, and the Sieur de Riousse, subdelegate in Cannes, of Mr. le Bret, intendant of Provence, in a attic where there was a portable stove.

“Sir Delisle told Sieur de Saint-Maurice to put this kind of clinker in a glass retort, to which was attached a container; this retort being on the small furnace, the coals which were placed around the retort were lit by the servants of M. de Saint-Maurice. When the retort was heated, Sieur Delisle recommended to M. de Saint-Maurice

to observe carefully when he saw a small yellowish liquid in the shape of mercury precipitate into the container, which was from there. half of a large pea. He recommended taking care that some sort of slowly flowing viscous oil did not fall into the container; to which the Sieur de Saint-Maurice paid great attention; he promptly separated the receptacle from the retort, when he perceived that the first matter had precipitated to the bottom of this vessel.

Then, without allowing this material to cool, he quickly poured it over three ounces of ordinary mercury which had been placed in a small crucible; whereupon having thrown two small drops of oil from the sun, which was presented to him in a small bottle by the sieur Delisle, he put the whole thing on the fire for the space of a miserere, and then poured what was in the crucible into an ingot mold, and he saw a small gold ingot lengthwise born, of the weight of about three ounces, which is the same as he presented to Mr. Desmaretz. It should be noted that when this philosophical mercury is cooled and dried, then put in a tightly stoppered glass bottle, it is reduced to powder, which is called powder of projection and which is black.

“Second experience. — It was made with about three ounces of lead pistol balls, which were in the game bag of M. de Saint-Maurice's valet, which had been melted in a small crucible and refined by means of alum and saltpetre. , the Sieur Delisle presented M. de Saint-Maurice with a small piece of paper and told him to take, from the powder which was there, approximately half of a pinch of tobacco, which was thrown by the Sieur de Saint-Maurice into the the crucible where the molten lead was; he also poured two drops of the oil of the sun from his first bottle, of which we spoke above; then he filled this crucible with saltpeter and left the whole thing on the fire for a quarter of an hour, after which he poured all these materials melted and mixed together on half an iron cuirass,

“The experiment for silver was made in the same way as the latter, except that the metallic powder or projection for silver is whitish, and that for gold is yellowish and blackish.

"All of the said experiments attested to be true and to have been carried out at the Château de Saint-Auban, by us, adviser to the king in his councils, president in the court of the Monnaies de Lyon and commissioner of the Council, appointed by decree of December 3, 1709, for the search for false fabrications of cash, both in Provence, Dauphiné, the County of Nice and the valleys of Barcelonnette. At Versailles, December 14, 1710.

“Signed: DE SAINT-MAURICE. »

Along with the preceding report, M. de Saint-Maurice sent Minister Desmaretz the gold resulting from the two transmutations operated under his eyes by the alchemist of Cisteron. We had tried at the Lyon mint to strike medals or coins with this philosophical gold; but, the metal having been found to be very sour, we gave up, and we contented ourselves with sending to the minister the ingot manufactured by Delisle (9).

In Paris, this metal was subjected to refining and three medals were minted, one of which was deposited in the king's cabinet: "The square still remains on the pendulum, wrote Lenglet-Dufresnoy in 1762, and the inscription bears : Aurum arte factum. The transport of the king's cabinet from Versailles to Paris, having caused great disruption to this precious deposit, I was unable to give a print; but I shall some day have occasion to do so. »

The two reports addressed to Minister Desmaretz by the Bishop of Senez and the president of the mint of Lyon confirmed, by specifying it, the wonders attributed to the alchemist of the South. Louis XIV, to whom these facts were communicated, ordered Delisle to go to Versailles. But, as this imposter had reason to fear too attentive an examination, he suffered all kinds of defeats for two years to avoid appearing at court. In the end we lost patience, and the Bishop of Senez himself requested a lettres de cachet against his favorite. In 1711, the alchemist was kidnapped and sent to Paris.

But, on the way, the archers charged with leading him, knowing the man they were dealing with, decided to kill him to take the philosopher's stone he was carrying with him. They therefore pretended to release themselves from the surveillance of which he was the object, they gave him cause to flee, and they fired on him at the moment he escaped. We were clumsy enough not to kill him; he only had his thigh broken. In this state he was imprisoned in the Bastille. He remained there for a year, still refusing to work, and tearing the bandages from his wounds in fits of despair. He ends up poisoning himself.

GAETANO.

Don Dominico Manuel Gaëtano, Count of Ruggiero, Neapolitan, field marshal of the Duke of Bavaria, general advisor, colonel of a foot regiment, commander of Munich and major general of the King of Prussia, was, at the time which concerns us, a of the greatest lords of Europe. The pomp of his name, the variety of his titles, caused him to be considered a universal man. From where did this star rise, or rather this comet with such a long tail, which, at the beginning of the 18th century, appeared in the firmament of Hermetic philosophy?

Dominico Manuel was born in Petrabianca, near Naples, to an honest family and a bricklayer father. The name that we keep for him here is even problematic, because Gaëtano can only be a nickname. In his youth, he learned the goldsmith's trade, then he traveled to Italy, and it was in this very country that, according to his own testimony, he was initiated, in 1695, into the secret of the transmutatory art. Although Gaëtano did not mention the name of the adept who instructed him, we believe with sufficient foundation that it was this same Italian philosopher from whom the Provençal Delisle had drawn his powder, that is to say Lascaris, who spoke Italian so well during his trip with Councilor Liebknecht and who had not yet appeared in Germany at the time indicated by Gaëtano.

What is certain is that Gaëtano had in his hands the two tinctures of Lascaris, the white tincture for silver and the red tincture for transmutations into gold. Only he only had these two powders in very small quantities. Unable to hope to enrich himself through the direct product of his projections, he wanted to achieve his goal through trickery, lies and fraud.

He announced that he was ready to enrich everyone by means of the masses of philosopher's powder which he promised to prepare. In the meantime, he spent very little of his own, just enough for experiments that were not attended without paying a lot of money. For a long time he found illustrious simpletons who, to see him operate, brought him much more gold than he made in front of them; he then disappeared with the recipe.

Leaving Italy, the first country Gaëtano visited was Spain. He stayed four months in Madrid and did his business there very well; because, later, the Spanish ambassador, Marquis de Vasto, publicly reproached him in Vienna for having stolen fifteen thousand piastres from his cousin. However, he had given such fine proofs of his art in the capital of Spain, that the Bavarian envoy, the Baron de Baumgarten, urged him to go to Brussels to the elector, who was then governor general. From the Netherlands. He presented him to his master as a true adept: the man, moreover, was not long in recommending himself by his works.

Once he entered Brussels, with the elector Maximilian-Emmanuel of Bavaria, Gaëtano distinguished himself by transmutations into gold and silver, which excited the admiration of the court and earned him unlimited confidence. But he was in no hurry to exploit these feelings; he had cast his views on the elector, for whose benefit he wished, he said, to deploy the strength and fineness of his art.

He promised to provide him with immense treasures and to prepare the red dye on a large scale for his use. Maximilien had blind confidence in this adventurer; he only felt one fear, and that was to see him take his good will and his talents elsewhere. To attach him more closely, he granted him the first places of honor at his court, with the most magnificent titles and all the money the gold maker demanded of him. It seems that, on this last chapter, the needs were frequent and the requests often repeated; for, in a very short time, Gaëtano extracted from the elector the sum of six thousand florins.

Finally, in a hurry to fulfill his promises, he wanted to resort to the latest trick up his sleeve. Three times he tried to flee, but he was always caught. Well convinced that he had been dealing with a rascal, Maximilian had him taken to Bavaria and locked up in a tower of Grimerwald Castle.

Gaëtano was held in this prison for two years, at the end of which he managed to escape. He then went to Vienna, where we find him in 1704, under the name of Count Ruggiero. A projection that he made in the presence of Prince Antoine de Lichtenstein and Count Harrach was so successful that the entire court was struck with admiration. The Emperor Leopold immediately took him into his service, and gave him six thousand florins to prepare the tincture which had been used for this experiment. But, the emperor having died in the meantime, no one claimed either the tincture or the six thousand florins: everything was therefore this time a profit without danger for the alchemist.

Gaëtano had, moreover, just found a new protector, and consequently a new dupe in the person of Jean-Guillaume, elector of the Palatinate, who was then residing in Vienna. This illustrious character allowed himself to be treated like all the previous ones: the same proofs convinced him, the same promises blinded him; the widowed empress herself was half-deluded by her illusions. Ruggiero had undertaken to deliver to them, in six weeks, seventy-two million, offering his head as guarantor of his promises. But the very day that this term expired, he had the sense to escape with the daughter of a lord whom he made Countess of Ruggiero.

In 1705, we see him appear in Berlin under the name of Count de Gaëtano. He asked the King of Prussia to protect him against his persecutors, promising in return to teach him his art and enrich the royal treasury. Frederick I, whom the presence of Lascaris in his States had brought back to alchemical ideas, did not reject Gaëtano's proposals, but he wanted to submit them to the decision of his council. No opposition arose within the council against the king's projects.
Chancellor Dippel, who was then in Berlin, felt the desire to become more intimately acquainted with Count Gaëtano.

The latter, very obliging for such a connoisseur, showed him his two tinctures; He still had about a lot of the white one left and a little more of the red one. At Gaëtano's request, Dippel sent his servant to fetch seven pounds of mercury. The alchemist placed this metal in a glass bottle which he heated in a sand bath. When the mercury was brought to the boil, he threw a grain of his white dye onto the metal, and a sharp hiss was immediately heard. As soon as the noise had ceased, Gaëtano, removing the flask from the fire, let it fall to the ground, and Dippel recognized with surprise, among its remains, a large base of pure silver. This operation,

Ruggiero did not take long to receive the order to operate before the king. Prince Frederic-William, the count of Wartenberg, court marshal, and the field marshal, count of Wartensleben, were the witnesses of the tests. The young Prince Frederick, naturally very suspicious, kept a close eye on the alchemist. Gaëtano began with the transmutation of mercury into gold. Mercury was put in a crucible and heated; Ruggiero poured a few drops of red oil on it and stirred the contents of the crucible. After half an hour, the crucible was removed from the fire and left to cool. Goldsmiths and coin assayers, who had been summoned beforehand, then examined the metal, which weighed nearly a pound, and found that it consisted of gold of fairly good quality.

In a second operation, the same quantity of mercury was changed into silver. Ruggiero then operated on a copper blade, half of which he converted into gold. Finally, he presented the king with fifteen grains of white dye and four grains of red dye, assuring him that the first would provide him with ninety pounds of silver, and the second with twenty pounds of gold.

But, where Ruggiero truly finished fascinating the king, it was when he promised to prepare eight ounces of red dye and seven of white dye in two months; quantities which were to produce in all a sum of six million thalers. From that moment on, Ruggiero was revered at court as someone sent from heaven; he had no other home than the palace of the royal prince and was fed from the king's kitchen. Frederick solemnly gave him his word to honor him above all if he kept his promise (10).

Gaëtano neglected nothing to give himself all the appearance of an adept carrying out the supreme operation of preparing the stone of the wise. He multiplied his projections, always taking care to operate in the presence of numerous witnesses,
10. Memoirs of Baron de Pollnitz.

Some of his transmutations were very singular and demonstrated marvelous skill on his part. One day, he changed silver florins into gold without altering either the inscription or the effigy. Another day, in imitation of Delisle, he transformed iron objects into silver or gold at will. But, of all his experiences at this time, here is one of the most curious.

He had made the acquaintance of a young Berliner, and had recognized that discretion was not his friend's dominant virtue. He brought him into his laboratory one day, in order to make him witness to an operation on which he recommended silence, quite certain, moreover, that this confidant would have nothing more in a hurry than to go and publish in all places what he would have seen. Gaëtano first showed him his philosopher's stone; It was a red powder like vermillion, a witness who had seen it told us.

On the young man's hand he then placed a sheet of paper covered with a little sand; Next to this sand, he placed two small, barely visible grains of his red dye. He then took a florin which he heated and which he placed, still hot, on the sheet of paper. He then ordered the young man to close his hand, so that the sand came to cover the florin. Immediately, smoke was seen to escape from the hand, the smell of sulfur was felt, and the florin was changed to gold.

All these tricks were very pretty, no doubt, but they did not fulfill the king's expectations, nor the important promise that Ruggiero had made to him. For his part, the latter appeared very unhappy.

He had hoped for considerable gifts, and, until then, all the king's generosity had been reduced to the sending of twelve bottles of old French wine. Humiliated by such a gift, the artist retired once to Hildesheim, and a second time to Stettin. However, letters of pardon, a portrait enriched with diamonds and an appointment to the rank of major general soon brought him back. One day, the king seemed in the mood to give, Gaëtano believed the time had come to exploit his illusions, and made a categorical request for a sum of fifty thousand thalers to continue his work. Another day, deciding to give up his secret for a round sum, he asked for a thousand ducats for a trip to Italy.

Such inconsistency aroused suspicion. At the same time, the king received advice from the Elector Palatine to be wary of his man, and a letter, sent from Vienna, gave him the same advice. Gaëtano was urged more urgently to keep his promise. He then tried to escape a third time to reach Hamburg; but he was caught, and he was locked up in the fortress of Custrin.

Using the traditional excuse of hermetic artists placed behind bars, Gaëtano complained of not being able to work in prison. To deprive him of any pretext, he was brought back to Berlin. But, although he had promised to set about preparing his dye immediately, he only performed a few of his ordinary projections in order to save time. His whole purpose was to find an opportunity to escape.

This opportunity indeed presented itself, and Ruggiero, escaping from Berlin, sought refuge in Frankfort-on-the-Main. But, the King of Prussia having demanded his extradition, the fugitive was delivered up and brought back to the fortress of Custrin. Summoned one last time to fulfill his commitments, he paid again by fine promises or by insignificant attempts, which left no doubt that he had taken the king for his dupe. Finally, having exhausted his entire supply of powder, he even became incapable of restarting his ordinary transmutations: his crime of lèse-majesté was thus clearly proven.

So Gaëtano was already lost when he was formally put on trial. Found guilty of the crime of lèse-majesté, on August 29, 1709, he was hanged in Berlin. According to German custom, he was led to execution covered in a garment of gold tinsel, and the gallows where his body was attached had been gilded. So Gaëtano was already lost when he was formally put on trial. Found guilty of the crime of lèse-majesté, on August 29, 1709, he was hanged in Berlin.

According to German custom, he was led to execution covered in a garment of gold tinsel, and the gallows where his body was attached had been gilded. So Gaëtano was already lost when he was put on trial for form. Found guilty of the crime of lèse-majesté, on August 29, 1709, he was hanged in Berlin. According to German custom, he was led to execution covered in a garment of gold tinsel, and the gallows where his body was attached had been gilded.

The sentence of the Berlin judges was accused of severity and even barbarity. The king himself, who had authorized its execution, undoubtedly appreciated it this way when time allowed him to reflect on this sad affair, because he forbade the entire court to ever mention the name of Gaëtano before him.




With the story of this adventurer ends the stories of the main metallic transmutations of which we wanted to present the interesting or little-known particularities. It would be superfluous, we believe, to develop at length the conclusions to be drawn from these facts.

In the singular events of which we have recounted the details, there were undoubtedly sufficient reasons to establish the truth of alchemy at a time when ignorance of chemical phenomena necessarily exposed the witnesses of these experiments to all kinds of surprises and of errors. But the scientific knowledge of our time sheds light on the meaning of these facts. We thought it was useless, and it would have been tedious to show each time what consisted of the tricks or frauds that the adepts carried out to make people believe in their science. If, in some of the events which we have had occasion to relate, the criticism remains hesitant for a moment, it is because it lacks exact information on the details of the operations which were accomplished.

But these secondary particularities do not detract from the general conclusion that remains to be formulated. Falsehood and cunning having as their motive the desire to rise to fortune and honours, this singular enjoyment which man, even outside of all interest, experiences in deceiving his fellows, and which must be recognized when the moral history of humanity offers us so many and such astonishing examples,

1. Guldenfalck. Alchemical anecdotes.
2. Guldenfalck. Alchemical anecdotes.
3. Putonei, Enunciata et consilia Leipsioe. 1733.
4. It was also thought that it was Lascaris that Doctor Joch was talking about, in the following letter that he wrote in Latin to the scholar Wedel: “I have finally obtained what I had wished for so long. I found a follower who hides his name from me, but who, on three different occasions, very easily made the purest gold in front of me. He only uses a few small grains and a crucible. Soon he will come back to me, and he will stay in my own house, because he loves my company. He has very rare books, which he always keeps in order, which he reads and completes. His kindness allowed me to use some of these works. I am sending you one written in a language unknown to me; he wishes to have your opinion on the subject covered in this writing, for he greatly reveres your name. Farewell, learned man, and may your research not be without success.

“Jean-Georges doctor JOCH. “Dortmund, June 17, 1720.”
(Guldenfalck, Anecdotes alchimie.)

5. “Haben die Antvesenden zvei kupferne Pfennige gevogen, der eine von denen, so in dem Vinerischen Armenhause ausgetheilt verden, ist nach obgedachten Pro-birgevicht hundert Quentchen 8 Vz. Gran, der andere aber, ein Ungrischen Poltura von 1607, achtundsechsig Pfund sechsen Loth schver gevesen.

6. The numerical evaluations contained in this report contain nonsense which will have struck the reader. One is obliged to admit, in order to understand them, that the authors of these experiments did not grant to the pound (Pfund) the value which belongs to the commercial, medical or monetary pound of Austria.

7. The name of this adept is written in very different ways, Engelhardt, his historian, calls him Böttger; Schmieder writes Bötticher: other Botigers, Bœttger, Bottger and Bottcher. We adopt the spelling of Schmieder, whose bibliographical authority is indisputable. Let us add that, according to M. Klem, Bötticher was born in 1685, and not in 1682, as Engelhardt says.

8. Brongniart, Treatise on ceramic arts, t. II.

9. The miner of Lyon to whom this test had been entrusted showed less confidence than his superior in the validity of philosophical gold. This is shown by the reflection which ends his little report to Mr. de Saint-Maurice on the essay with which he was charged. This coin is designed as follows: “Report of the coiner of the Mint of Lyon. — We wanted to melt the gold given by Monsieur (de Saint-Maurice) into the Mint and put it in a condition to be coined: it was found to be so sour that it was not possible to convert it. " to work. In this state, I ask Monsieur (de Saint-Maurice) if he thinks it would be appropriate for me to take it to “refining”, that is to say starting from the etching. “With regard to silver, it was found at 11 denarii 5 grains and produced 2 crowns, 2 half crowns,

“I nevertheless take the liberty of representing to him, based on experience and without any prejudice, that these philosophical matters are extremely suspect to me, and, when it pleases him, I will have the honor of giving such mechanical demonstrations. than physical,”

10. Memoirs of Baron de Pollnitz.

ALCHEMY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

The old beliefs in the philosopher's stone and the transmutation of metals are far from having disappeared, as is believed, in the light of the first truths of modern chemistry. Despite the contrary reasoning and facts accumulated by the science of our time, despite the sad and innumerable disappointments brought to hopes over the past ten centuries; gold makers, alchemical opinions are still professed today.

In several countries of Europe, some unknown remains of the mire of the Hermetic philosophers continue to pursue in the shadows the realization of the great work, and among the modern adepts, there is more than one who does not hesitate to find in the very principles of actual chemistry, the confirmation of its doctrines. It is principally in dreamy Germany that this obstinate race has been preserved. We have already seen that a vast association of alchemists, founded in 1790, existed in Westphalia until the year 1819, under the name of Hermetic Society.

In 1837, an alchemist from Thuringia presented to the Industrial Society of Weimar an alleged tincture suitable for the transmutation of metals. One could read at the same time, in the French newspapers, the announcement of a public course in hermetic philosophy, by Professor B...., of Munich. Finally, even today, in Hanover and in Bavaria, entire families are cited who give themselves up in common to the search for the great work. a existed in Westphalia until the year 1819, under the name of Hermetic Society. In 1837, an alchemist from Thuringia presented to the Industrial Society of Weimar an alleged tincture suitable for the transmutation of metals.

At the same time, we could read in the French newspapers the announcement of a public course in hermetic philosophy, by Professor B...., from Munich. Finally, even today, we cite entire families in Hanover and Bavaria who are devoting themselves together to the search for the great work. existed in Westphalia until the year 1819, under the name of the Hermetic Society. In 1837, an alchemist from Thuringia presented to the Industrial Society of Weimar an alleged tincture suitable for the transmutation of metals. One could read at the same time, in the French newspapers, the announcement of a public course in hermetic philosophy, by Professor B...., of Munich.

Finally, even today, in Hanover and in Bavaria, entire families are cited who give themselves up in common to the search for the great work. the announcement of a public course in hermetic philosophy, by Professor B...., of Munich.

Finally, even today, in Hanover and in Bavaria, entire families are cited who give themselves up in common to the search for the great work. the announcement of a public course in hermetic philosophy, by Professor B...., of Munich.

Finally, even today, in Hanover and in Bavaria, entire families are cited who give themselves up in common to the search for the great work.

But Germany is not the only country in Europe where alchemy continues to be cultivated. In several cities of Italy and in most of the big cities of France, one still finds alchemists. From time to time, we see appear in the French bibliography, some writings where the so-called mysteries of art are exposed in a language of impenetrable obscurity and with the procession of traditional symbols.

His books, usually stolen from the knowledge of the public, are hardly seen except in the hands of initiates. The curious and lovers of memories of old times find there with delight reveries of the Middle Ages.

Among the cities of France, we can cite Paris as particularly rich in alchemists. This observation is not exaggerated: we can say that there are theoretical alchemists and empirical adepts in Paris. The first limit themselves to recognizing as true the scientific datum of alchemy, the others devote themselves to experimental research which is connected with the transmutation of metals (1).

A well-known scholar, sir. B..., today professor of one of our faculties of sciences of province, took, in his treaty of chemistry, published in Paris in 1844, the defense of the Hermetic opinions, and he says in this work, that he has some hope of seeing the operation of the great work succeed. As for empirical researchers, they are not rare in the lower depths of science, and one does not live long in the world of chemists without finding oneself in contact with it more than once. For my part, I found myself quite often in contact with alchemists from all quarters, and perhaps one will find some interest in the accounts of the memories which have remained with me.

I frequented in 184..., the laboratory of Monsieur L.... It was the meeting place and like the cenacle of the alchemists of Paris. When the pupils had left the halls after the day's work, one saw, in the first shadows of evening, the modern adepts entering one by one. Nothing is more singular than the appearance, the habits and even the costume of these strange men. I met them sometimes, during the day, in public libraries, bent over vast folios; in the evening, in remote places, near solitary bridges, eyes fixed, in a wave of contemplation, on the resplendent vault of a starry sky. Almost everyone looked alike. Old or withered before their time, a nasty black coat, or a long cloak of an indefinable shade, covered their emaciated limbs.

In their slow, measured, solemn speech, there was something of the accent that we attribute to the language of the enlightened people of recent centuries. Their countenance, dejected and proud at the same time, revealed the anguish of ardent hopes, a thousand times lost and a thousand times regained in despair.

Among the followers who gathered in Mr. L…'s laboratory, I had noticed another young man whose appearance struck me. Nothing, in his habits or in his language, recalled his mysterious companions. Far from fighting like them, or rejecting with contempt the principles of modern chemistry, he constantly invoked them, because he had found the germ of his alchemical convictions in the very study of the truths of this science.

In the frequent discussions that he had with those familiar with the laboratory on the certainty of Hermetic dogmas, he only took his arguments from the discoveries of contemporary scientists. No scientific fact was foreign to him, because he had long followed the lessons of the most famous of our masters; but science, that healthy nourishment of the minds, had turned into a bitter poison for him which altered the sources of primitive notions.

These kinds of conferences had a very particular attraction for me, and I admit to my shame that I often prolonged them with intention, seduced by the singularity of these speeches, where the inspirations of the enlightened and the reasonings of the scholar blended together. the strangest way.

About the same time, I had to maintain with this adept an extended discussion on the principles of hermetic science. On this occasion he gave me a general exposition of the doctrines of alchemy and reviewed all the historical proofs that are invoked to justify them. This interview is still entirely present in my memory, and I will report it here, because it will reveal many facts that are unknown today.

I was walking, towards the end of the day, in Luxembourg, in the alley of the Observatory, when I happened to see my philosopher stopped near the garden gate. As soon as he saw me, he came to me.

“Well, doctor,” he said, approaching me, “have you thought carefully about the subject of our last conference, and can I finally hope to offer the homage of a new conversion in the shadow of the great Hermes?

My dear philosopher, I replied, since this interview, I have had no other thought than to deplore that a man of your talent and your age could waste his strength in pursuit of such a chimera. »

He sat thoughtfully, thought for a few moments, then suddenly he grabbed my arm, quickly led me without saying a word, and took me down the aisles of the nursery: we headed towards a bench on the lower sides of the ride.

"Listen," he said to me, "for a long time I have formed the project of developing before you the whole series of proofs on which alchemical beliefs rest, and of demonstrating to you that our doctrines, far from being ruined by the discoveries of the science of day, may on the contrary their most serious arguments. I have chosen you as the unofficial confidant of this profession of faith, because you usually listen to me without showing those feelings of mistrust or pity that your comrades do not even try to conceal with us.

Let me then, he added, becoming animated, let me prove to you that alchemy is not the dream of a few deranged brains, but that it finds unshakable foundations in the essence of things, and that the day is not far off when the realization of his sublime work will bring with it at the same time the discovery of the highest secrets of nature. »

He was standing, he was talking with fire. I understood that it was impossible to avoid the dissertation; I sat down resigned, and he began.

“Allow me first,” he said, “to clearly mark the precise subject of the work of modern alchemists, and to set the limit of their research. The efforts of adepts throughout time have been directed towards the discovery of the secret agent known as the Philosopher's Stone. However, according to the ancient authors, the philosopher's stone had to enjoy three distinct properties. In its first state of purity, it carried out the transmutation of metals, changing base metals into noble metals, lead into silver, mercury into gold, and generally speaking, transformed all metallic substances into one another.

In a higher degree of perfection, it could cure the diseases which afflict humanity, and prolong life far beyond its natural limits; it then bore the name of universal panacea. Finally, at its highest degree of exaltation, and then taking the name of soul of the world, spiritus mundi, the philosopher's stone transported men into the intimate commerce of spiritual beings; it broke down the barriers which defend the entrance to the higher worlds, and revealed to us, in sublime contemplation, the mysteries of immaterial existence.

These are the three properties that the first hermetics attributed to the philosopher's stone.

Today's alchemists reject most of these ideas. They grant the philosopher's stone the virtue of transmuting metals, but they go no further. It is easy to understand, moreover, how the ancient spagyrics were led to thus attribute to the agent of transmutations, occult qualities, drawn in some way from immaterial sources.

This thought bears the imprint and is only the reflection of the philosophical beliefs of the time which saw it born. It was only in the thirteenth century that we began to attribute to the stone of the wise the power to cure illnesses and to spiritualize physical beings. Now you know what doctrines then prevailed in the schools.

Philosophical antiquity was reborn. The principles of the contemplative school were combined with Aristotle's logic. As in the heyday of Pythagoras, the mysteries of numbers applied to physical phenomena formed, in defiance of the testimony of the senses, the only foundation of the sciences. The universe was populated by metaphysical beings, establishing secret connections and mysterious sympathies with the objects of the visible world. It is therefore quite simple that at this time the alchemists enriched the marvelous agent, the object of their work, with some supernatural properties. But for us, enlightened by the light of modern philosophy, we condemn these mystical aberrations of ancient ages. We repudiate the chimera of the universal panacea, even more so that of the soul of the world,

All alchemical dogma is therefore reduced today to admitting that there exists a substance carrying within itself the secret virtue of transforming all chemical species into one another, or, to reason on a subject more accessible to experience , to effect the transmutation of metals. The object of alchemy is the discovery of this agent, which many adepts have possessed, but which is now lost to us. This is the question in all its simplicity. I wanted to carefully limit, at the outset, the scope of our discussion, in order to prevent it from straying from the start into abandoned chimeras. Now, by enclosing myself within the circle of discoveries of modern chemistry, I will prove to you that the transmutation of metals is a perfectly feasible phenomenon, and that several facts of current science justify the data. »

In this place, the follower sat down beside me, then he continued in these terms:
“Have you ever thought about a very singular inconsistency into which scientists have fallen today? They recognize that four simple substances, oxygen, hydrogen, carbon and nitrogen, enter alone into the composition of bodies of organic origin; but they add that more than sixty elements are necessary to form mineral combinations. Thus four simple bodies would be enough to constitute the atmosphere which surrounds us, the water which covers three quarters of our globe, all the animated creation which moves on its surface; and more than sixty bodies should come together to make up the solid mass of our planet!

In truth, this is gratuitously blaming nature for an inconsistency. Would it not be simpler to think a priori that these four elements, which are sufficient for the molecular actions of organic products, are also sufficient for the needs of mineral combinations, and that they alone constitute the basis of the material resources at play in our universe?

We would thus arrive at this famous number four, Tetractis of Pythagoras, or Tetragrammaton, which played such a great role in the mysteries of Chaldea and ancient Egypt. We would be led to find under other names, the four elements of the ancient alchemists, the four elements of the chemists of the seventeenth century. But, without going any further, let us continue to note here this shocking contradiction which, today, disfigures natural philosophy.

This is a first difficulty, it is at least likely to make you suspend your judgment.

I arrive at some more precise considerations, because they can do without any extraneous induction, and because they are solely borrowed from the discoveries of modern chemistry.

Until recently it was thought that, to define a body and separate it from all others, it is enough to indicate its composition and its properties; it was accepted that two substances having the same chemical composition are therefore identical.

But if the first chemists had not considered this fact as a fundamental truth, the alchemists, for their part, had not stopped fighting it. The alchemical theory of the composition of metals, professed since the eighth century, posited that natural products can offer the greatest differences in their external character, although fundamentally their composition is the same. This theory established, in fact, that all metals are identical in their composition, that they are all formed of two common elements, sulfur and mercury, and that the difference in their properties is only due to the variable proportions of mercury and sulfur which constitute them.

Gold, for example, was formed, according to alchemists, of a lot of very pure mercury and a small quantity of sulfur; tin, of a lot of poorly fixed sulfur united with a small quantity of impure mercury. In its general aspect, this theory therefore posited in principle that several substances, while being identical in their composition, can nevertheless differ from each other externally and in all of their reactions.

Alongside it rose the theory of the chemists, defending the contrary proposition. You know how the debate ended. The progress of science has brought, in our day, a brilliant triumph to alchemical opinions. The improvement of chemists' analysis has made it possible to recognize that mineral or organic products can present a complete identity in their composition, while externally affecting the most opposite properties. Thus fulminic acid, which is part of fulminates and fulminant powders, contains strictly the same quantities of carbon, oxygen and nitrogen as cyanic acid, and it contains these elements united according to the same mode of condensation.

However, fulminates subjected to the lowest temperature rise detonate violently, while cyanates resist red heat. Urea, which is part of several liquids of the animal economy, has the same chemical composition as hydrated ammonia cyanate, and nothing is more dissimilar than the characters of these two products. Hydrocyanic acid, a formidable poison, differs in no way in its composition from formate of ammonia, the most harmless salt. Chemistry furnishes a host of such examples. It is this new property of matter that has been adorned with the elegant name of isomerism.

But can this isomerism, which alchemists today grant to compound bodies, not reach simple bodies? Can substances known to be elementary, metals for example, present cases of isomerism? You immediately see how advanced this seemingly simple question brings us.

Resolved affirmatively, it would remove all the theoretical difficulties which are opposed to the transmutation of metals. For, if it were demonstrated that the metals are isomers, that under the veil of the most dissimilar external characters they hide elements identical in their nature, the alchemical dogma would be justified, and the molecular transformation which must take place in the transmutation of a metal would no longer have anything that could surprise us.

To establish the isomerism of two compounds, one analyzes them chemically, and one thus notes the identity in number and in kind, of their constituent parts. But for the particular case of metals, we lack this means, since these bodies are considered as simple, precisely because they resist all our methods of analysis. However, another path remains. We can compare the general properties of isomeric bodies with the properties of metals, and investigate whether the metals do not reproduce some of the characters which belong to isomeric substances. This comparison was made by the head of French chemistry, by Mr. Dumas, and here is the result to which it led.

It has been noted that in all substances presenting a case of isomerism, we usually find equal equivalents, or multiple or submultiple equivalents of each other (2). However, this character is found in several metals. Gold and osmium have an almost identical equivalent. It is strictly the same for platinum and iridium: and Berzelius found, adds M. Dumas, that the weightable quantities of these two metals are absolutely the same in their corresponding compounds taken at equal weight.

The equivalent of cobalt barely differs from that of nickel, and the half equivalent of tin is very substantially equal to the whole equivalent of the two preceding metals; zinc, yttrium and tellurium offer, in the same respects, such slight differences, that it is permissible to attribute them to a slight error in the experiment (3). M. Dumas further showed that when three simple bodies are linked together by great analogies of properties, such as, for example, chlorine, bromine and iodine, barium, strontium and calcium, the chemical equivalent of the intermediate body is always represented by the arithmetic mean between the equivalents of the other two (4).

These remarkable connections made a great impression on the minds of chemists. They constitute, in fact, a sufficient demonstration of the isomerism of simple bodies. They prove that metals, although dissimilar in their external qualities, only come from one and the same matter differently arranged or condensed. Now, if it is true that metals are isomeric, the first consequence to be drawn from this fact is that it is possible to change them into each other, that is to say, to carry out transmutations metallic.

Consideration of equivalents leads to another presumption in favor of the transmutation of metals. An English chemist, Doctor Prout, was the first to make the observation that the chemical equivalents of almost all simple bodies are exact multiples of the weight of the equivalent of one of them. If we take as a unit the equivalent of hydrogen, the weakest of all, we recognize that the equivalents of all other simple bodies contain this one an exact number of times. Thus the chemical equivalent of hydrogen being considered as unity, that of carbon is represented by six, that of nitrogen by fourteen, that of oxygen by sixteen, that of zinc by thirty-two, etc.

But if the molecular masses which come into action in chemical combinations offer such simple relationships between them, if the equivalent of carbon is exactly six times heavier than that of hydrogen, the equivalent of nitrogen fourteen times heavier , etc. is not the proof that all the bodies of nature are formed from the same principle, and that a single matter, variously condensed, produces all the compounds that we know? If this conclusion were accepted, it would justify the principle of isomerism of metals and would give transmutation incontestable theoretical support. is not the proof that all the bodies of nature are formed from the same principle, and that a single matter, variously condensed, produces all the compounds that we know?

If this conclusion were accepted, it would justify the principle of isomerism of metals and would give transmutation incontestable theoretical support. is not the proof that all the bodies of nature are formed from the same principle, and that a single matter, variously condensed, produces all the compounds that we know? If this conclusion were accepted, it would justify the principle of isomerism of metals and would give transmutation incontestable theoretical support.

The phenomenon of the transmutation of metals therefore has nothing in opposition to the facts and theories current in science in our time. Let us now pass to the examination of the practical means by which the operation can be carried out. It is here that the objections of our adversaries arise in droves; but it will suffice, to destroy them, to rectify the very inexact opinion which one has of the philosopher's stone.

People outside our art assume in fact that we grant this precious agent a completely occult mode of action and in opposition to usual phenomena. We do not admit anything of the sort. The philosopher's stone does not, according to us, possess any supernatural properties, and its mode of action has nothing that does not find a complete analogy in the ordinary facts of chemistry.

Pay your attention for a moment to the phenomena that we bring together under the common name of fermentation. Fermentation, in general, is a chemical operation carried out within organic products, by a substance of an unknown nature called ferment. Now, these fermentations, so well studied today in their main effects, make it easy to understand metallic transmutations.

Indeed, the transformation which takes place in organic matter under the influence of ferment, is in our eyes the perfect image of the changes which can occur in metals, when the philosopher's stone is brought into contact with them. The philosopher's stone is the ferment of metals; metallic transmutation is fermentation transported from the domain of organic bodies into the mineral world, and adapted to the conditions specific to these materials. In metals molten and heated to red heat, a molecular transformation can take place entirely analogous to that which fermentable organic products undergo. Just as sugar, under the influence of ferment, changes into lactic acid without varying its composition, just as it is transformed into alcohol and carbonic acid, which completely reproduce its composition, thus the metals, all identical in their nature, can pass from one to the other under the influence of the philosopher's stone, their special ferment.

If you compare the general phenomena of fermentation to the fact of metallic transmutation, you will be amazed at the analogies presented between these two orders of chemical action. Without doubt, it is difficult to realize what can happen in the privacy of metals under the influence of the philosopher's stone; but the theoretical explanation of fermentation encounters the same difficulties among chemists. No one is unaware that fermentation eludes any scientific theory. In ordinary reactions, in fact, one body combines with another, an element displaces another element and replaces it by virtue of a superior attraction, and in all cases the laws of affinity easily account for the fact.

But in fermentations nothing of the sort is observed. The ferment itself takes no part in the chemical alterations which it causes, and one cannot find it, either in the laws of affinity, nor in the forces of electricity, light or heat , no satisfactory source of explanation of its effects. We are surprised to see alchemists grant the philosopher's stone the property of acting on metals in infinitely small doses, and assure, for example, that a grain of philosopher's stone can convert a pound of mercury into gold; but fermentation presents us with a very similar peculiarity.

The ferment acts on organic matter in infinitesimal doses, according to the term adopted; diastase, for example, transforms into sugar two thousand times its weight of starch. And when we have seen with our own eyes what small quantity of ferment is necessary to cause in certain cases the alteration of an enormous mass of organic matter, we find Raymond Lulle's exclamation a little less extravagant: mare tingerem si mercurius esset .

There is therefore nothing mysterious in the chemical role of the philosopher's stone, and the transformation that it can cause in metals is explained without difficulty, when we compare it to facts of the same order of which we are all aware. days the witnesses.

Thus, in the truths recognized by modern chemistry, alchemical dogma finds satisfactory confirmation. The men who for centuries applied the effort of their genius to this admirable work were therefore neither impostors nor madmen. Geber, Avicenna, Rhasès, Arnauld de Villeneuve, Saint Thomas, Raymond Lulle, Albert the Great, Basil Valentin, Paracelsus, Glauber, Kunckel, Becher, who propagated these doctrines, and most of the great philosophers of the Middle Ages who confessed them to envy, were not the blind toys of the same madness; they did not form a league of lies to deceive the universe and lull men with a chimerical hope. They all pursued with passion a principle so clear, so indisputable for them, what the simplest truth can be in the eyes of a scholar today.

As for the errors which are reproached to them with so much bitterness, they were the consequence of the philosophy of their time. It would be very easy, in fact, to show you, by considering some of the general principles of alchemy, that its long deviations were only the continuation of the philosophical doctrines of the Middle Ages.

Alchemists, for example, attached a certain importance to the consideration of supernatural influences for the interpretation of physical phenomena. According to them, the planets sympathized with the metals; external objects found mysterious correspondences in our organs; material beings nourished moral affections; an invisible spirit regulated the physical, intellectual and moral relationships of all created substances.

But in the Middle Ages, where is the philosopher who reasoned differently? Go back, for a moment, to the paths of the philosophical past, you will see these vague and mystical conceptions leaving their mark on all branches of human knowledge. Medicine, natural and physical sciences, were constantly wrapping themselves in veils hidden from the darkness of these doctrines. How did doctors in the fifteenth century explain the properties of medicines and, to take one example, the medicinal virtues of lead!

Considering that lead purifies gold, and that, since it corrects and cures impurities in gold, it is suitable for removing impurities from the human body. Money was considered to be the specific cause of brain disease, because money was devoted to the moon, and the brain was said to have sympathies with this star. At the beginning of the seventeenth century, physics itself had barely freed itself from these constraints. Is it not true that even at that time, physicists were discussing questions like this with Roerhaave:

“Do the Images of natural objects reflected in the focus of concave mirrors have a soul? » How then could alchemy have protected itself from the daydreams which then besieged the sciences?

One of the main foundations of alchemical theories consisted in this principle, that the minerals buried in the heart of the earth, are born and develop like organized beings. But all naturalists in the Middle Ages granted fossils the property of growth. The sun engenders the minerals in the bosom of the globe is an axiom of the school.

The consequences drawn from this law must seem fairly legitimate. Alchemists, considering that gold is the most perfect of metals, were convinced that nature, in producing mineral substances, always tends to produce gold, the child of its desires. When the circumstances favorable to the formation of this metal were lacking, aborts were produced, that is to say base metals. But these philosophers added that it is possible to surprise the secret processes of nature, to discover the hidden matrix which nourishes, preserves, develops the seed of metals, and that it is possible, by suitable heat and food, to to do in the blink of an eye what is happening in the heart of the globe with the help of time and underground fire. This was certainly only speculation; but in condemning them, we only attack the philosophical conceptions of the Middle Ages.

The philosophy of the Middle Ages breathes here entirely, because its essential character consisted precisely in this perpetual tendency to mix the facts of the moral order with those of the physical order, to lend affections to raw bodies, as well as to defile with some material quality the pure essence of abstract beings.

My friend, let us suspend the blame, let us rest on our lips the words of condemnation or contempt. These men so decried have rendered services that posterity cannot overlook. Their work provided the first and most solid foundations for the glorious monument of science that the seventeenth century saw rise and grow. Their innumerable research, their indefatigable patience, the happy law that they had imposed on themselves to publish the facts which could not serve the particular advancement of their views, brought about this great result.

I do not want to undertake to justify all the acts, all the thoughts of the alchemists, however it is impossible not to pay homage, in some cases, to the correctness of their scientific methods. They added, as you know, extreme importance to calling on the intervention of time to help their work. Their operations were prolonged for whole years, and sometimes an unfinished experiment was bequeathed by an adept as an inheritance to his son.

This consideration of time, an element so neglected nowadays, was on the part of the alchemists the obvious sign of an exact and profound observation. It is well known that nature realizes, with the aid of time, innumerable combinations which we are powerless to reproduce in our laboratories, and nowadays, it has been permitted to imitate some of these products by bringing in, with the slowness of the actions, the artificial aid of electricity.

An alchemist took Cadet-Gassicourt to his laboratory one day and showed him a small porous and light stone, giving the color of gold. He had obtained this curious product by abandoning, for whole years, rainwater to spontaneous evaporation, and by collecting the iridescent film which then forms on its surface. What was the nature of this substance?

Was it, as the adept thought, a beginning of vegetation of gold caused by the spiritus mundi which concentrates in water exposed for a long time to atmospheric action? I do not know ; but what I know very well is that our chemists today, with their expeditious way of conducting the search, would never have found this body. In the famous experiment of Lavoisier, followed with so much perseverance, and which, by revealing the composition of the air, gave rise to the most brilliant series of discoveries of which the sciences have kept the memory, there was, believe it , as a last memory of old habits and alchemical traditions.

Under the influence of the philosophy of our time, we condemn the mystical tendencies of ancient alchemy and its continual metaphysical preoccupations. I would not dare to speak openly against this appeal to the enlightenment of reason; However, I still see in our sciences many facts which can only be interpreted by recourse to considerations of this kind. It is recognized in physics that the strength of a magnet increases significantly when its charge is gradually increased. When a bar magnet supports a certain weight of iron, this weight can be increased every day by a small amount, up to a certain limit, beyond which the whole mass detaches and falls.

The magnet then experiences, as physicists say, a singular weakness, it cannot support the weights which it supported at first, and, to restore to it its primitive strength, it must be loaded each day with new weights added gradually and in small quantities. Is this not a sign of an obscure moral affection in one of the forces of the physical world?

Place an oxidizable metal, copper for example, in the presence of water and air, both very pure, the metal will not oxidize at all; but add any trace of acid, or bring in carbonic acid from the air, and the oxidation will proceed quickly. It is this very numerous category of phenomena which in chemistry bears the name of action by affinity of predisposition. This fact is explained by saying that the acid causes the oxidation of the metal, because it has an affinity for the oxide which tends to form. Here then is a material fact, almost metaphysical in its production, and which can only be explained by a metaphysical theory.

It would be easy to multiply quotations of this kind; but I do not want to get lost in the subtlety of these views. I only wanted to show you, through these examples, how unjust and unphilosophical a condemnation of the doctrines of our predecessors would be, and what reserve it is wise to exercise in this judgment.
One day Socrates was presented with a work by Heraclitus in a very profound but obscure style.

He read it carefully, and when asked for his opinion on this writing: “I find it admirable,” he said, “in the places where I hear it; I believe that he believes that it is so for the parts that I have not been able to penetrate, but I would need more skill than I have to pronounce on the latter. »Imitate, my friend, imitate the reserve of Socrates. »

Having thus spoken, the philosopher by the fire stopped, tired of his long harangue. I took advantage of his silence to respond briefly to his defense of hermetic science.

"I listened to you," I said to him, with reverence, "although I heard no consideration that you had not already presented to me many times, no argument to which I had not amply answered on other occasions. However, since you wanted to institute a sort of argument here, I will try to answer you.

In the first place, you think you are surprising our chemists in a flagrant contradiction, because they admit that four simple bodies suffice to form all organic products, while mineral combinations require more than sixty. But the contradiction is only apparent. Examine the series of our sixty simple bodies, you will recognize that very few of them take an active role in the great physical actions of our globe.

The list of substances recognized as elementary is certainly long, but the number of those that nature brings into play is in reality very limited. To the elements which belong in a more special way to organized beings add only chlorine, sulphur, phosphorus, silicon, aluminium, calcium and iron, you will have the almost complete series of bodies which form the domain of mineral reactions. Everything suggests that the usual order of the great phenomena of the world would not be disturbed in any way, if the small quantities of platinum, arsenic or zinc, for example, which one finds disseminated in the globe were not did not meet there.

The small number of elements which enter into the constitution of organic compounds is nothing that should surprise us. With the exception of carbon, these four bodies are gaseous; the balance of their combination must consequently be very slightly destroyed, and they can thus suffice to bring about the mutations, the continual transformations which are the condition of life. Mineral combinations resist external influences more energetically, their chemical stability is greater, which requires the assistance of a greater number of elements; but ultimately this difference is quite small and cannot in any way be invoked as an argument.

You claim to bring the mode of action of the philosopher's stone closer to the usual chemical facts, by showing us in fermentation a phenomenon which offers some analogy with the transmutation of metals. It is true that we can thus strip the philosophers' stone of the supernatural properties that are generally attributed to it. But all the benefit ends there. We can only see in this connection a beautiful comparison, which moreover is very old, since it dates back to Hortulanus. For, to demonstrate that the agent of transmutations participates, in something, in the properties of ferments; to admit that in molten metals heated to red heat a molecular modification comparable to fermentation can take place, it would be necessary to begin by establishing the compositional identity of the metals. However, the alchemical theory on the isomerism of metals is still at least questionable.

The arguments you invoke in favor of metallic transmutation therefore rest on no very serious foundation. But I go further, I admit for a moment with you that all these considerations have a certain value; I admit, in particular, that the remarkable connections made by Mr. Dumas between the equivalents of simple bodies of the same family joined to this other very singular relationship found by Doctor Prout between the equivalent of hydrogen and the equivalents of all other simple bodies, can authorize the conclusion that you do not fear to draw from it on the isomerism of metals, I say that, all this granted, the question would still be far from being decided in your favor.

By accepting, in fact, all this data as valid, we would be led to the following conclusion: In the present state of our knowledge, we cannot prove in an absolutely rigorous manner that the transmutation of metals is impossible: some circumstances prevent the alchemical opinion from being rejected , as an absurdity in opposition to the facts. This, in its broadest expression, is the only benefit of reasoning to which you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists.

We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals. I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to resolve the crux of your entire argument (5). » In the present state of our knowledge, we cannot prove in an absolutely rigorous manner that the transmutation of metals is impossible: some circumstances prevent the alchemical opinion from being rejected as an absurdity in opposition to the facts.

This, in its broadest expression, is the only benefit of reasoning to which you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists. We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals.

I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to resolve the crux of your entire argument (5). » In the present state of our knowledge, we cannot prove in an absolutely rigorous manner that the transmutation of metals is impossible: some circumstances prevent the alchemical opinion from being rejected as an absurdity in opposition to the facts.

This, in its broadest expression, is the only benefit of reasoning to which you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists. We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals.

I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to resolve the crux of your entire argument (5). » we cannot prove in an absolutely rigorous manner that the transmutation of metals is impossible: some circumstances prevent the alchemical opinion from being rejected as an absurdity in opposition to the facts. This, in its broadest expression, is the only benefit of reasoning to which you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists. We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals.

I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to resolve the crux of your entire argument (5). » we cannot prove in an absolutely rigorous manner that the transmutation of metals is impossible: some circumstances prevent the alchemical opinion from being rejected as an absurdity in opposition to the facts. This, in its broadest expression, is the only benefit of reasoning to which you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists. We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals.

I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to resolve the crux of your entire argument (5). » some circumstances prevent the alchemical opinion from being rejected as an absurdity in opposition to the facts. This, in its broadest expression, is the only benefit of reasoning to which you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists. We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals.

I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to have to cut the crux of your whole argument (5). » some circumstances prevent the alchemical opinion from being rejected as an absurdity in opposition to the facts. This, in its broadest expression, is the only benefit of reasoning to which you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists. We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals.

I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to have to cut the crux of your whole argument (5). » the only benefit of reasoning you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists. We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals.

I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to have to cut the crux of your whole argument (5). » the only benefit of reasoning you can claim. But, from the fact that a fact is recognized not to be impossible, it in no way follows that this fact exists. We cannot prove that lead will never change into gold, but it does not follow from this that we can effect the reciprocal mutation of these metals. I insist on this last reflection, because it seems to me to have to cut the crux of your whole argument (5). » because it seems to me to resolve the crux of your entire argument (5). » because it seems to me to resolve the crux of your entire argument (5). »

“What you grant me,” then replies the alchemist, “is enough for the cause that I defend, because if you recognize that our theories have nothing ultimately that offends the feelings of chemists too much, it will be enough for the victory is acquired by us, to show that metallic transmutations have been carried out, and that several people have discovered and possessed the philosopher's stone. A single case of this kind would suffice for this demonstration. Now the hermetic writings are filled with these facts; the narratives found there are surrounded by such a procession of imposing testimonies that a modern author, Schinieder, does not hesitate to declare that historical proofs alone are sufficient to establish the reality of our science and the existence of the philosopher's stone. You will share, I hope, this conviction, if you will now listen to the account of these facts. »

You know, dear reader, that, in the history of alchemy, metallic transmutations form a very extensive chapter. Also, seeing my interlocutor preparing to undertake the long history of the exploits of the gold makers, I was frightened by the proportions that our interview was going to take. I tried to claim.
“It’s a little late,” I objected timidly.

— No, said my obstinate discourser, the sun is barely setting; I can still see its last rays gilding the towers of Saint-Sulpice. Listen to my demonstration; I will only leave you converted. »

Here the adept began the story of metallic transmutations. Scanning successively the facts of this kind witnessed over the last two centuries, he recounted the singular events reported by Van Helmont, Helvetius, Bérigard of Pisa and Pastor Gros. Then came the transmutations carried out in 1648 by Emperor Ferdinand III with Richthauson's powder.

The adventures of Alexandre Sethon and those of Michel Sendivogius, his heir and pupil, were remembered for a long time. Passing from there to the eighteenth century, my alchemist first cited the transmutation attributed to the Swede Payküll. He then approached the mysterious life of Lascaris. The wonders attributed to the emissaries of this adept were not forgotten; Bötticher, Delisle, were cited here with honor.

In a word,
“Here then,” continued the adept, finishing his long historical exposition, “a series of events which demonstrate that at different times several people possessed the secret of transmutation. But there is another category of evidence which should not be neglected here, and which I will present to you in closing. I am talking about the considerable riches that have always been seen in the hands of people who have possessed the philosopher's stone.

History provides us with facts in this respect against which it would be difficult to raise objections.

All hermetic writers assure that Raymond Lulle, prisoner of Edward III in the Tower of London, manufactured six million worth of gold there which was used to mint the nobles at the Rose. In France, Nicolas Flamel found the secret of projection in 1382, and this man, until then a poor copyist, suddenly showed himself to be at the head of immense wealth. He founded fourteen hospitals in Paris, built three chapels, restored seven churches, which he endowed magnificently.

In Pontoise, the place of his birth, he made just as many pious foundations. In 1742 the alms which he had instituted by his will were still distributed to the poor of Paris. Much attention has been devoted to finding the origin of Flamel's wealth; but the writers who raised these doubts, such as Gabriel Naudé and the Abbé Villain, did not undertake their research until two or three centuries after his death. However, it is good to know that, during the lifetime of Nicolas Flamel, the origin of his fortune having seemed suspect, King Charles VI had an inquiry drawn up on this subject by a Master of Requests, the Sieur Cramoisi.

No one can say what resulted, but from that moment Flamel was no longer worried.
The English alchemist George Ripley presented one hundred thousand pounds of gold to the knights of Rhodes, when the island was attacked by the Turks in 1460.
Gustavus Adolphe, king of Sweden, while crossing Pomerania, received in Lubeck, a supposed merchant, one hundred pounds of gold which were converted into ducats bearing the signs of their Hermetic origin. When this stranger died, a fortune of one million seven hundred thousand crowns was found in his home.

We can only regard as alchemical productions the seventeen million rixdales left by the elector Augustus of Saxony in 1580, because this prince is known to have made the projection several times with his own hands.

The eighty-four quintals of gold and the sixty quintals of silver that were found in 1680 in the treasury of the Emperor of Germany, Rudolf II, also had the same origin. Among the princes of the Empire, Rudolph II was the most declared supporter of Hermetic science. Towards the end of his reign, most of his actions were inspired by his predilections for alchemy. Everyone around him was spagyric.

Even his lackeys were only alchemists, companions in his work. The house of his doctor, Thaddoeus de Hayec, was open to all itinerant artists, who, before being admitted into his presence, came, by suitable tests, to have themselves recognized and accredited as adepts; and the court poet, the Italian Mordecai de Delle,

I will finally add, to close this list with dignity, that the riches that Pope John XXII left behind at his death in 1334 can only be the result of his alchemical practices. The county of Avignon, where the holy see resided, had before this time only a fairly modest income, and previous popes had not distinguished themselves by their opulence.

Twenty-five million florins were found in the treasury of John XXII. The source of this fortune is easily explained when we know that this pope is counted among the alchemical writers, and that, in his preface to his Ars ransmutatoria, it is indicated that he had work done on the philosopher's stone in Avignon, and that He made two hundred gold ingots, each weighing one quintal (6). In vain you will object to me that Pope John XXII is himself the author of the bull: Spondent pariter quas non exhibent, fulminated by the Holy See against the alchemists.

This argument would have little more value than that which consists of saying that the precepts which the pope gave in his Ars ransmutatoria, for manufacturing gold, are devoid of common sense. These were all the means that the pope imagined to divert from his pontifical head the suspicion of hermeticism. It was the ruse of the thief who cries Thief!

I stop. It would have been easy for me to further extend the series of these historical proofs; but I wanted to confine myself to the most generally known facts, to those which are justified by authentic documents. Such
was the discourse of my alchemist, and it will be understood that after a historic exhibition of this force, one could not without dishonor remain silent.

So I tried a short reply.

“You have just recalled most of the events that we are accustomed to invoke in favor of the reality of alchemy,” I replied. I will have no difficulty admitting that there is more than one circumstance of nature to embarrass a moment. But I will certainly say nothing new by asserting that all these facts absolutely lack the means of control that philosophical doctrine is entitled to demand in such a matter.

If the authority of human testimony is acceptable without reservation for common facts which require, to be ascertained, only a free mind and faithful senses, it is quite different when it comes to establishing the certainty of a historical fact or a scientific result. A similar subject requires verifications of another nature and which, in this case, are absolutely lacking. Moreover, admitting all these events as proven, it would remain to be understood how a similar discovery, if it was made once, could ever have been lost.

Let me add, however, that the real answer to your historical arguments, victorious reason, is not there; it is contained in two or three works, which the adversaries of alchemy have never ceased to oppose to my progress. In the Explicatio, by Th. Eraste, in the Mundus subterraneus, by P. Kircher, and in the dissertation of the academician Geoffroy, on the trickery concerning the philosopher's stone, presented in 1722 to the Academy of Sciences of Paris, we find the key to all these so-called mysteries. These writings give us a very reassuring explanation of the strange events which, until the middle of the last century, maintained Hermetic beliefs. We see what an incredible series of frauds, deceptions, tricks of all kinds,

“We must be careful,” said Geoffroy, “of everything that happens in the hands of these kinds of people. » Indeed, the alchemist operators have pushed the art of deceiving the public to its limits. The mercury which transforms into gold before the eyes of an astonished assembly, was already loaded with a certain quantity of the precious metal; instead of pure mercury, an amalgam of gold was used which differs very little in its physical appearance from ordinary mercury: the volatile metal placed in a crucible disappeared by the action of the heat, and revealed the gold.

The lead which changed into silver or gold was often nothing more than an ingot of silver or gold wrapped in lead. The crucibles in which the operations were carried out were almost always prepared in advance. In a double bottom, one placed gold or an auriferous composition decomposable by heat; this false bottom was cleverly concealed by a paste made of gum and crucible earth.

The heat destroyed the organic matter, and the precious metal thus came to mingle with the materials tested. Sometimes gold or silver was introduced into the crucibles by stirring the molten metals with a hollow wooden rod which contained, in its interior cavity, gold or silver powder; the wood, while burning, deposited the gold powder in the crucible. At other times, a small cavity dug in charcoal and hidden by black wax was filled with gold or silver powder. This coal was used to cover the crucible, and the wax, coming to melt, dropped the gold powder; or else pulverized charcoal was soaked with a solution of gold or silver which was thrown into the crucible as a necessary ingredient.

There were also a thousand ways of mixing precious metals in the state of oxides or lime, according to the term of the time, and therefore offering no metallic appearance, with the different substances used in the operation. Finally, if it was a question of changing a silver or lead medal into gold, it was whitened with mercury, and it was then presented as silver or lead; when exposed to the action of heat, the mercury, by evaporating, revealed the gold.

It is well understood that, in these last operations, a little sleight of hand was appropriate,

These are, undoubtedly, very crude tricks and apparently easy to unmask. But what makes us understand the long impunity of these maneuvers is the profound ignorance in which we lived until the seventeenth century regarding the interpretation of chemical phenomena. Metallurgy was so imperfect at that time that it was impossible to recognize traces of a precious metal in a base metal, and there is in the history of chemistry more than one curious example of similar errors. . It was not until the beginning of the seventeenth century that all chemists became well aware of the fact of the dissolution of metals in acids.

Thus, before the year 1600, very few people suspected that copper existed in blue vitriol, and alchemists have often presented the precipitation of copper sulfate by an iron blade as a transmutation of iron into copper. Paracelsus and Libavius ​​cite these transmutations with complete confidence. Also the philosophical tinctures of the alchemists were often only solutions of gold or silver in acidic liquors; and the artificial gilding thus produced was presented as a path to a more complete transformation.

It would therefore be easy, by comparing with most of your narrations the facts reported by Thomas Eraste, Father Kircher and Geoffroy, to show by what precise artifices were carried out, in these various cases, the transmutations of which you have reported the details. However, this means would perhaps advance the question between us rather poorly, because everything could be reduced to an affirmation on the one hand, and to a negation on the other. It's a shorter route. It consists of recalling the numerous events in which the fraud was revealed by the confession of the followers themselves.

Very often, in fact, the alchemist charlatans, after having successfully completed some trick of their trade, hastened to safety, and, once certain of impunity, loudly proclaimed their deceitfulness while laughing freely at the credulity of their victims.

A certain Daniel, of Transylvania, mystified in this way the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo I. This charlatan, who added the status of doctor to his title of alchemist, sold to the apothecaries of Florence a powder called usufur, which was known as a universal remedy. He made this medicine himself, in which he introduced a certain quantity of gold.

Only, in order not to ruin himself in the speculation that he meditated, he was careful, among the medicines that he had his patients take at the apothecaries, to always prescribe usufur, and as he then prepared the medicines himself. medicines with the help of the drugs that were brought to him, he was careful to keep the precious usufur for himself, which was a way of gradually repaying his advances. When his reputation was established in Florence, he went to find the grand duke, and offered to teach him the art of making gold.

It was with the famous usufur that he operated. The Grand Duke himself sent for this medicine to the city's apothecaries, and the operation was successful as one might guess. Cosimo I paid twenty thousand ducats for this beautiful invention. But soon the doctor was seized with a strong desire to travel; he asked permission to travel through France. Once safe, he wrote without further ado to the Grand Duke to inform him of the bad thing he had played on him. and the operation succeeded as one might guess.

Cosimo I paid twenty thousand ducats for this fine invention. But soon the doctor was seized with a strong desire to travel; he asked permission to travel through France. Once in the shelter, he wrote without further ado to the Grand Duke to inform him of the bad all he had played for him. and the operation succeeded as one might guess. Cosimo I paid twenty thousand ducats for this fine invention.

But soon the doctor was seized with a strong desire to travel; he asked permission to travel through France. Once in the shelter, he wrote without further ado to the Grand Duke to inform him of the bad all he had played for him.
The adventurer Delisle, of whom you spoke, used less complicated procedures. He transformed small masses of lead or silver medals into gold using the well-known process of bleaching with mercury. But the operation which served him above all to amaze Provence consisted of changing iron nails into gold. To play this game, he made a gold nail and covered it with a light layer of iron, so as to make it appear like an ordinary nail.

By then dipping the object, thus prepared, into his so-called dye, which was nothing other than an acidic liquor, he dissolved the surface layer of iron, and gold appeared. The sad end of this adventurer showed only too well that he had taken the province and the court as a dupe.

The tragic end of Delisle is not the only one which revealed the guilty maneuvers of the prompters.

Under Louis XIII, a man named Dubois caused a stir in Paris with his transmutations. He was an adventurer who, after having traveled for a long time as a doctor in the Levant, became a Capuchin and went to Germany, where he threw on the habit to embrace the reformed religion. Back in France, he married under the name of Sieur de la Meillerie.

He assured that the philosopher's stone he used came from Nicolas Flamel; he claimed to have found it in the inheritance of his uncle, great grandson of the doctor Perrier, himself nephew of Pernelle, wife of Nicolas Flamel. Dubois also boasted of knowing how to prepare this powder. These facts came to the ear of Richelieu, who had the alchemist arrested and ordered him to repeat his experiments before the king. In the presence of Louis XIII and the cardinal, Dubois changed a musket ball into gold which was taken from the pouch of a sentry. The king hastened to ennoble this skilful man; he did more, he named him president of the treasuries. But Richelieu was more demanding, he ordered Dubois to communicate his secret to him.

Upon his refusal, the new president was thrown into prison, and his trial was heard. As he still refused to explain himself, they asked him the question. Thus pressed, the unfortunate man dictated some procedures which, when immediately tried, were found to be false. Obtaining nothing more, the furious cardinal sent him back to the tribunal, which condemned him as a magician and had him hanged. The king hastened to ennoble this skilful man; he did more, he named him president of the treasuries. But Richelieu was more demanding, he ordered Dubois to communicate his secret to him.

Upon his refusal, the new president was thrown into prison, and his trial was heard. As he still refused to explain himself, they asked him the question. Thus pressed, the unfortunate man dictated some procedures which, when immediately tried, were found to be false. Obtaining nothing more, the furious cardinal sent him back to the tribunal, which condemned him as a magician and had him hanged. The king hastened to ennoble this skilful man; he did more, he named him president of the treasuries. But Richelieu was more demanding, he ordered Dubois to communicate his secret to him.

Upon his refusal, the new president was thrown into prison, and his trial was heard. As he still refused to explain himself, they asked him the question. Thus pressed, the unfortunate man dictated some procedures which, when immediately tried, were found to be false. Obtaining nothing more, the furious cardinal sent him back to the tribunal, which condemned him as a magician and had him hanged. and his case was heard. As he still refused to explain himself, they asked him the question. Thus pressed, the unfortunate man dictated some procedures which, when immediately tried, were found to be false.

Obtaining nothing more, the furious cardinal sent him back to the tribunal, which condemned him as a magician and had him hanged. and his case was heard. As he still refused to explain himself, he was given the question. Thus pressed, the unfortunate dictated a few procedures which were immediately tried and found to be false. Obtaining nothing more, the furious cardinal sent him back to the tribunal, which condemned him as a magician and had him hanged.

Much was said in England at the end of the last century about the circumstances which led to Price's suicide. James Prices was a distinguished chemist, but he had the misfortune to dabble in alchemy, and soon boasted of possessing the philosopher's stone. In London he made public transmutations seven or eight times. He had the reports of his experiments printed, and the King of England was curious to possess the silver ingots that the alchemist had made.

But the Royal Society of London, of which Price was a member, was moved by this affair. The chemist was summoned to repeat his experiments before a commission taken from the Royal Society. He refused to appear for a long time, alleging that his supply of philosopher's stone was exhausted, and that it took a long time to prepare more. However, he ended up getting to work, and missed the operation.

Mocked by his friends, pushed to the limit in every way, he poisoned himself.

Quite a long time before this last event, the alchemist Honaüer had not been happier. He had succeeded in deceiving the Duke of Württemberg by a very simple process, as you will see. The duke carried out the operation himself with the materials indicated by Honaüer; When the crucible was loaded and the experiment prepared, to avoid any suspicion of fraud, he made everyone leave the laboratory and took away the key.

But the alchemist had taken the ingenious precaution of hiding a little boy in a box. When the laboratory was deserted, the child would simply put gold in the crucible, then return to his hiding place. The prince was all the more impatient to see these experiments succeed, as he had already spent more than sixty thousand pounds with his alchemist. Unfortunately, a curious fan discovered the ruse. As you know, the German princes did not hear ridicule on this chapter. The philosopher by fire was hanged on the golden gallows. »

During this last part of our conversation, my interlocutor was distracted and agitated; he showed signs of impatience. Finally he stood up:

“Listen,” he said to me, “perhaps you have read some alchemical writings, but only, I believe, in a curious eagerness to collect some facts which seem prickly to you. This is not how we arrive at the truth; it can only be found with a serious desire to look for it. »

Saying these words he took from his pocket, with all imaginable marks of respect, an old book which he presented to me:

“Here,” he said, “I’m entrusting you with this writing; it contains the truths of our art, exposed with the greatest simplicity. Read it carefully, and above all, he added, placing your finger on the first page of the book, meditate carefully on the sentence which adorns the frontispiece. Having said this, my philosopher slowly withdrew. As he walked away, I hastened to examine the precious book he had given me. It was one of the countless writings left to us by alchemists, and it was neither clearer nor more reasonable than the others. My eyes fell on the famous sentence he had recommended for me. It was the maxim of Liber Mutus:
Lege,lege, lege et relege, labora, ora, et invenies.

1. in 1834 case, a former chemical preparer - Monsieur Tiffereau, from Nantes, presented to the Paris Academy of Sciences several memoirs containing the description of the means which would have enabled him to artificially form gold during his stay in America. It is by reacting the nitric acid on the silver, that Mr. Tiffereau saw producing as a residue of the action of this acid, insoluble particles which he considers as gold.

In our opinion, these metallic deposits, insoluble in azotic acid, obtained by the author in the experiments he carried out in America, were due to the natural presence, in the silver used, of some metal unassailable by azotic acid. , such as gold, platinum, iridium, etc. In fact, Mr. Typhon having tried to repeat this experiment in Paris, in one of the Mint laboratories, in front of Mr. Levol, an experienced assayer and chemist, failed completely, and was unable to present any trace of this artificial gold which he claims to have succeeded in producing in America.

In the first edition of this work we reproduced part of the memoirs presented by M. Tiffereau to the Academy of Sciences; it was a document which seemed to us to be of interest to the scientific history of our time. This reproduction has become useless since the author published in a small volume the collection of his memoirs. The title of this collection is: Metals are compound bodies. 1 vol. in 12 of 134 pages, 2nd edition, Vaugirard. 1837.

2. In chemistry, we designate, under the name of equivalent or proportional number of a simple or compound body, the quantity by weight of this body which must unite with another to form a combination: this quantity is invariable.

3. Dumas, Chemical Philosophy, page 319.

4. Minutes of the Academy and Sciences, meeting of November 9, 1857, and May 24, 1858.

5. To strengthen the argument which precedes, it would be necessary to invoke the result of the direct experiments that M. Despretz undertook to decide the question of the simplicity of the so-called elementary bodies. M. Despretz has concluded, from a long series of experiments, in favor of the simplicity of these bodies.

Unable to expand here on the details and the consequences to be drawn from this work, we refer the reader to the memoir of this physicist inserted in the Reports of the Academy of Sciences, sessions of November 15, 1858, and to the same collection for the criticism that M. Dumas thought he should make, in 1859, of the work of M. Despretz. One will find these contradictory memoirs of MM. Dumas and Despretz summarized in our Scientific Year, Third and Fourth Years.

6. Ars ransmutatoria, apocryphal work translated into French in 1557, and which the alchemists did not fear to attribute to the pope, in revenge for the severe measures that John XXII had directed against them.


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