THE GREAT WORK UNVEILED
in favor of the children of the Light
Translated from the Chaldaic by M. Coutan
1775
WARNING
FROM THE EDITOR
Seven years ago I found this Manuscript in my study. Such searches as I have made, I have never been able to discover, neither the person who furtively brought it to me, nor for what reason it was left to me. My friends believe this little work to be very old, and base their conjectures on two proofs, which, if they are not true, are at least probable: the first, that the Manuscript is in ancient Chaldaic; the second, that in the modern books of this science, there are many things which are drawn from this Manuscript.
I have translated it, at the request of my friends, as accurately as possible. I have done more, I have turned all the sentences into my ordinary style, without, however, altering any of the author's thoughts; & I give it today to the Public, rather to glory in my translation, than to encourage it to increase the number of prompters. For, frankly speaking, I have always regarded the Great Work as being a chimera; and whatever all the Alchemist Authors say, to assure us of the possibility and the reality of the philosopher's stone, and the antiquity of its secret, I believe them to be as cunning and as impostors, without excepting their Hermes, if it is true that he wrote on this subject, I believe them, I say, as cunning and as impostors as the Priests of Paganism were.
A friend of mine, an upright and just man, but a little too credulous, maintains that this pretended secret exists, and says that he has seen gold made several times. But how can I believe him, he who claims to have seen ghosts?
The Dedicatory Epistle seemed to me ingenious, and a masterpiece of its kind. I even believe to have discovered there that the Author, whoever he is, does not believe in the transmutation of metals; & that he wrote this work, rather to amuse himself than to make proselytes.
DEDICATORY EPISTLE
TO POSTERITY
O Posterity! it is to you that I address myself & to whom I dedicate this work, small in its volume, but large in its project!
And to whom could I better address myself, & offer this dedication, if not to you, who never fails to avenge oppressed merit, & to render to everyone the justice which is due to him?
In writing this succinct but sublime treatise, I was aware that I was going to make as many enemies as there are profane people, and that I was going to be the butt of the most poisonous darts of calumny; but the confidence I have in you has reassured me against their numbers and against their malice.
I can already imagine hearing you speak in my favor to my antagonists, and say to them: Either the art of making gold is true or it is false. If it is true, then he did not write this lie; & he was right to write in the style of the Philosophers, & beyond the reach of the stupid & the ignorant. If it is false, these same stupid people and these same ignoramuses must have an entire obligation to him, since, by the dispositions of the soul which he demands, and which are so rare today in the world, he warns them not to risk the real riches they possess, for an imaginary good which has never existed except in the opinion of a few overheated brains.
This is what you will not fail to say to my enemies. I will triumph over their malice; & you will have all the glory.
THE GREAT WORK
UNVEIL,
IN FAVOR OF CHILDREN
LIGHT
FIRST CHAPTER
Far away, profane; what I am about to say is not for you. It is in favor of the worthy disciples of the great Hermès, that I am going to unveil the ne plus ultra of the Sciences, the art of making stone. You will no doubt yell at me; I do not care. I will not even pay attention to your insipid remarks; for I have long been accustomed to the cackling of geese, and the croaking of crows. Read my work, if you wish, you will not be better informed; for he has only the Children of the Light who can hear me; & I repeat it to you again, it is only for them that I write.
O you, whose sincere and disinterested desire leads you to work for the Great Work; you, who have no other design, in your learned research, than that of making yourselves useful to indigent merit, and to oppressed virtue, come and receive from my hands the reward for your laborious perseverance, and the philosophical crown which is so legitimately due to you.
Begin, my dear Children, to prepare our mercury well, and the work will be half done. I do not deny that you have many difficulties to overcome to arrive at this first preparation, which, without doubt, is the most difficult of our philosophical work; but remember, and never forget it, that a great courage does not allow itself to be beaten down by the obstacles it encounters; that, on the contrary, he makes it an indispensable duty to surmount them. By scrupulously following the roads of nature, you will encounter the same obstacles that she encounters in the course of her operations, and you will surmount them as she surmounts them. Post Laborem Scientiam.
When you have performed this first operation, forget the pain it will have caused you; for what remains to be done is so little that it will be done in time, and almost without work. It is thus that a tree, after having endeavored to grow its fruits, waits patiently for the sun to ripen them; all it does, while waiting for this maturity, is to preserve for them this radical humidity, which is all the more necessary to them because if they were to lack it, the sun would burn them instead of ripening them.
However difficult this first draft may be, we nevertheless succeed in it, when we behave with attention, prudence and circumspection. He who follows the paths of nature, and who only wants to help her, is a wise man who succeeds in all his designs, because he forms none that can exceed his strength; on the contrary, he who claims to constrain his nature, is a madman who fails in his projects, because he conceives them all above his power. O you, who are discreet enough to ask nature only what she is able to give you, you deserve to share in her gifts, you are worthy of her liberalities. Listen to my words, study my lessons, take advantage of my advice, and you will be happy.
Take raw mercury, cook it according to the art, that is to say, fix what is volatile, & volatilize what is fixed; make liquid what is dry, & dry what is liquid; then you will have in your power the true philosophical mercury. But above all, do not work hastily: hurry slowly; everything needs time.Our common mother, nature, always regulates her productions according to the annual course of the sun, which is her true father. Take all the necessary precautions, and nothing more. The art of making stone derives more from the simplicity of nature than from the eagerness of the Artist. Be often an idle spectator, and occupy yourselves in these moments of inaction, only to consider the complacency that nature has for art; & to admire his subjection to the will of the children of science.
As for the regime of the fire, take care to proportion the heat to the resistance of the mercury: if it is too weak, it will stagnate rather than cook; if it is too strong, what is volatile will evaporate; so that in either case, you would miss your shot, and you would have worked in vain. So study nature; penetrate its most occult secrets, in order to come to the knowledge of its central fire; for that is the most difficult part of the art. And when the degree of fire is known to you, work boldly, and without fear of making mistakes. However, for greater safety, who prevents you from placing a thermometer in your laboratory? Whoever takes all possible precautions, is assured of never failing.
You will know the perfect coction of the stone, when the mercury, after having blackened, then after whitening, will finally become orange in color. You will make a powder of it that you will keep as long as you want, without fearing that it will corrupt, dissolve or evaporate; & this marvelous powder will be useful to you in all that you will undertake.
CHAPTER II
Whoever wants to become sublime in our art, must learn early to count, calculate & calculate. Now, in order to achieve and make great progress in our numerical science, we must begin by positing a, which is the first number, and which is commonly called a geometric number, because it is from it that all the others are generated. To this first number, join a second, which is done by addition, and that will make two. In these two, a third will arise, if you skillfully use the way of multiplication. Of these three, remove one by means of subtraction, there will remain two, which by division you can reduce to one. Then, to this one which remains to you, add another, & do this operation nine times, & you will find in your calculation the number of ten.
The number ten is the most perfect, because it is the term at which every number ends: when we have reached this number, we start counting again. So the number ten is the number of perfection. As that of seven is the most fortunate; that of three, the most majestic; & that of forty, the most mysterious.
It follows from what I have just said that the unity develops in two, ends in three within, to produce a fourth without, from which there is a propagation and a similar revolution, up to infinity.
However obscure this principle may appear, it is clear to him who is endowed with all the dispositions necessary to attain universal science, and whose heart is filled with all the qualities indispensable to reach this goal. This principle, so wise, so salutary, and so mysterious, must serve as a guide in all its operations; and if he ever departs from it, he will succeed in all his undertakings: heaven will enlighten his intentions, favor his designs, and bring fruit to his labor. He who works to acquire wealth only in the will to relieve its needy virtue, cannot fail to achieve his ends, since he follows exactly the divine will. The sun equally ripens and indifferently the fruits which are beneficial to us, and those which are pernicious to us, because he is not endowed with any intelligence. But we, to whom God has given the ability to know good and evil, to discern virtue from vice, we must constantly occupy ourselves with protecting one and hating the other. It would be an error very harmful to human society to have the scruple of not wanting to punish vice, by refusing to it the help which is due only to virtue. To extend incessantly a beneficent hand to oppressed innocence, to destitute virtue; to have for the vicious, and especially for the ungrateful, who, so to speak, is the vicious of the vicious, to have, I say, for this destroyer of all societies, nothing but indifference and contempt: it is our duty, and our indispensable duty. to discern virtue from vice, we must constantly occupy ourselves with protecting the one and detesting the other. It would be an error very harmful to human society to have the scruple of not wanting to punish vice, by refusing to it the help which is due only to virtue. To extend incessantly a beneficent hand to oppressed innocence, to destitute virtue; to have for the vicious, and especially for the ungrateful, who, so to speak, is the vicious of the vicious, to have, I say, for this destroyer of all societies, nothing but indifference and contempt: it is our duty, and our indispensable duty. to discern virtue from vice, we must constantly occupy ourselves with protecting the one and detesting the other. It would be an error very harmful to human society to have the scruple of not wanting to punish vice, by refusing to it the help which is due only to virtue. To extend incessantly a beneficent hand to oppressed innocence, to destitute virtue; to have for the vicious, and especially for the ungrateful, who, so to speak, is the vicious of the vicious, to have, I say, for this destroyer of all societies, nothing but indifference and contempt: it is our duty, and our indispensable duty. than to make a scruple of not wanting to punish vice, by refusing to it aid which is due only to virtue. To extend incessantly a beneficent hand to oppressed innocence, to destitute virtue; to have for the vicious, and especially for the ungrateful, who, so to speak, is the vicious of the vicious, to have, I say, for this destroyer of all societies, nothing but indifference and contempt: it is our duty, and our indispensable duty. than to make a scruple of not wanting to punish vice, by refusing to it aid which is due only to virtue. To extend incessantly a beneficent hand to oppressed innocence, to destitute virtue; to have for the vicious, and especially for the ungrateful, who, so to speak, is the vicious of the vicious, to have, I say, for this destroyer of all societies, nothing but indifference and contempt: it is our duty, and our indispensable duty.
O you, dear infants of Wisdom, you know that as soon as we have the will to help the virtuous needy, Heaven never fails to provide us with the means. You also know that if there are few men who are informed of our secret, it is because there are few whose will is pure and upright. There are two kinds of nature, the material and the immaterial; both have their own voice: that of material nature is known in the world as the voice of blood. That of immaterial nature is designated by the voice of reason. Happy is he who grants to blood only what is not repugnant to reason. And it is for him that our secret is reserved, & to whom it is given to understand the science of numbers, & the mystery of their combination.
CHAPTER III
Matter is one, and from its unity come the three kingdoms: the mineral, the vegetable, and the animal. This is what made Plato say these mysterious words: Everything comes from unity, and everything returns to unity.
The true Philosophers, the worthy Children of the three times great Hermès, know perfectly this material unique in its principle, and triune in its productions. They know that it is everywhere, and that they cannot take a step without finding it on their way. So when they need it for their philosophical work, they are sure to find it, so to speak, at their fingertips. But for the rest of men, they see it without knowing it, and touch it without feeling it. How great are the number of those who seek it! And that of those who possess it is small!
The greed for wealth, the greed for greatness, & generally all purely human views, are like so many torches which dazzle men, & prevent them from perceiving the truth; or like thick veils which hide from their eyes the pearls and the diamonds which surround them, and which they continually trample under their feet. Blind mortals, do you want to come to the knowledge of our philosophy? Do you want to be initiated into our sacred mysteries? start by stripping yourself of this sordid and mercenary interest, which tyrannizes you relentlessly; trample underfoot that pride which gnaws at you; & take a firm resolution never to appropriate to yourselves alone, or to your family alone, the advantages that nature or fortune presents to you. So we'll give you a helping hand, we will admit you into our company, and we will confess you for our brothers. He is only one God, who is the common father of all men. Therefore, there must also be only one family on earth: all men must live as brothers. As it is only the vices that prevent this beautiful union, it is also only to the vicious ones to whom we close the entrance to our sanctuary, and for whom we have no pity.
As for you, dear infants of sound philosophy, imitate us; own nothing of your own, & own everything in common. This is the only way to make you favor the great Hermès. But what good is it to excite you to virtue, since you walk only under standards? Your conduct being blameless, you deserve to be initiated into our mysteries. Listen to what I am going to tell you, take advantage of it, you will be happy, and I will be satisfied.
Of the three kingdoms, leave the animal and the vegetable to the ignorant vulgar, and attach yourself only to the mineral. Among so many minerals that nature produces, there is one unique one, in which is locked up the great secret . Do not hesitate to pierce its sides, and to seek in the depths of its entrails, this hidden fountain, which conceals a water which is our true philosophical mercury. This water is the bath of the elements; it is in it that they are united & mixed by nature, & determined to the mineral kind.
You will know this mysterious water by its qualities: it is neither hot nor cold, neither dry nor wet; or rather it is all together, hot, cold, dry & humid. Yes, my dear emulators, it contains within it these four contrary qualities: it heats without burning, cools without freezing, moistens without wetting, & dries without altering. Finally, this water is the water of the philosophical sea, on which the Children of Light sail without fearing any danger, and where the profane never set foot without being shipwrecked: worthy punishment for their temerity!
Having this water, which is our mercury, the only principle of our Work, as it is of the seven metals, you have everything you need; there is nothing left to look for. But before possessing it, it is necessary to have this salt, which is our mine. Hey ! what is this salt, if not this mineral which contains within itself this water of which I speak to you, and which for this very reason we call gifts in our books: Venus hermaphrodite, that is to say, male and female altogether. Indeed, she is male, because she is sulphur, & female, because she is mercury. Like sulphur, it is hot & dry, which suits the masculine. She is cold & wet, which relates to the feminine gender.
Worthy Children of the Light, never forget these mysterious words of Plato: Everything comes from unity, and everything returns to unity. Because they contain all our secrets ; & as matter is divided into three kingdoms, the mineral, the vegetable & the animal; likewise, our mysterious water is composed of three parts, a body, a soul & a spirit. Now, the composition of our philosopher's stone consists solely in the fact that its principles being well prepared, the body is subtilized into the spirit, and the spirit is fixed in the body, entirely uniting its soul to it: what happens by making this body robust, this subtle and penetrating spirit, and this powerful soul. Then of this preparation, simple in its effect, but triple in its subject, since it is a question of preparing the body, the soul and the spirit; as nature never remains at rest until it has achieved its ends, so our matter does not take long to corrupt itself, in order to engender itself anew. Corruption is known by the color black, and generation by the color white; what is called by allusion to these two colors, the crow and the dove. With a little more patience & work, the white color changes to red or orange, & then you possess all that is most precious in our art. I would not amuse myself here by urging you to make proper use of the advantages of our secrecy, for I am very convinced that it will always be impenetrable to those whose intention is not right. I say more, if, by the greatest misfortune that can happen to me, my intention were to change, and if I wanted to do for myself or in relation to myself, which I should only do for others, become profane by this purely human view, matter would refuse my work, and nature my designs. & the generation to the white color; what is called by allusion to these two colors, the crow and the dove. With a little more patience & work, the white color changes to red or orange, & then you possess all that is most precious in our art. I would not amuse myself here by urging you to make proper use of the advantages of our secrecy, for I am very convinced that it will always be impenetrable to those whose intention is not right. I say more, if, by the greatest misfortune that can happen to me, my intention were to change, and if I wanted to do for myself or in relation to myself, which I should only do for others, become profane by this purely human view, matter would refuse my work, and nature my designs. & the generation to the white color; what is called by allusion to these two colors, the crow and the dove. With a little more patience & work, the white color changes to red or orange, & then you possess all that is most precious in our art. I would not amuse myself here by urging you to make proper use of the advantages of our secrecy, for I am very convinced that it will always be impenetrable to those whose intention is not right. I say more, if, by the greatest misfortune that can happen to me, my intention were to change, and if I wanted to do for myself or in relation to myself, which I should only do for others, become profane by this purely human view, matter would refuse my work, and nature my designs. With a little more patience & work, the white color changes to red or orange, & then you possess all that is most precious in our art. I would not amuse myself here by urging you to make proper use of the advantages of our secrecy, for I am very convinced that it will always be impenetrable to those whose intention is not right. I say more, if, by the greatest misfortune that can happen to me, my intention were to change, and if I wanted to do for myself or in relation to myself, which I should only do for others, become profane by this purely human view, matter would refuse my work, and nature my designs. With a little more patience & work, the white color changes to red or orange, & then you possess all that is most precious in our art. I would not amuse myself here by urging you to make proper use of the advantages of our secrecy, for I am very convinced that it will always be impenetrable to those whose intention is not right. I say more, if, by the greatest misfortune that can happen to me, my intention were to change, and if I wanted to do for myself or in relation to myself, which I should only do for others, become profane by this purely human view, matter would refuse my work, and nature my designs. I would not amuse myself here by urging you to make proper use of the advantages of our secrecy, for I am very convinced that it will always be impenetrable to those whose intention is not right. I say more, if, by the greatest misfortune that can happen to me, my intention were to change, and if I wanted to do for myself or in relation to myself, which I should only do for others, become profane by this purely human view, matter would refuse my work, and nature my designs. I would not amuse myself here by urging you to make proper use of the advantages of our secrecy, for I am very convinced that it will always be impenetrable to those whose intention is not right. I say more, if, by the greatest misfortune that can happen to me, my intention were to change, and if I wanted to do for myself or in relation to myself, which I should only do for others, become profane by this purely human view, matter would refuse my work, and nature my designs.
CHAPTER IV
A writer of the last century imagined that the Latin word planeta, which in our language means planet, was the mysterious name which contains the secret of our magisterium; giving for reason that this word is suitable for the seven metals, as for the seven stars which are commonly called planets, because, he says, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, the Sun, Venus, Mercury, the Moon, which are planets, are also metals; & that this word planeta,consists of seven letters. Now, although the Astrologers have attributed to the seven planets, not only the same names, which the Philosophers have used to name the seven metals, but also the same characters which they had invented to distinguish them, it does not follow nevertheless, and it is even ridiculous to infer from this that tin, for example, is a planet, that is to say, a vagabond and errant thing, which is what the Latin word planetameans. But we must only say that Jupiter is a word which Philosophers and Astrologers use indifferently; the Philosophers to signify the metal, which is ordinarily called pewter; & the Astrologers to mark the wandering planet or star, which is between that which they name Saturn, & that which they call Mars. It is the same with the other names which are common to the metals and to the planets. So that this name planeta, is not that which signifies the true & unique thing necessary for our philosophical work, although the two Greek letters alpha & eta are found there, as in our true word.
Run, profane, you who are lovers, not of science, but of wealth, run; I will pronounce this mysterious word. Remember it well, this sacred word; if it does not make you acquire new riches, at least it will not cause you to dissipate those which you possess; perhaps he will even excite you afterwards to make yourselves worthy of being initiated into our mysteries. If we are too just to reward those who deserve no reward, we are also too fair to refuse help to those who are worthy of our attention. Listen, I'm going to pronounce it, this big word. Here it is: Wisdom .
Well, profane, the word is out, are you more educated? No, probably. It is not so with those who, by the uprightness of their intention, and the purity of their morals, have already acquired some knowledge in our art; on the contrary, this fortunate word reveals the rest to them. Yes, it is he who tells them to look for our azoth or philosophical sperm only in the mineral kingdom where it is found, and not in the animal or the vegetable where it is not found. Go, then, and hide in the darkness, and let us work quietly in the light.
And you, dear children of science, if you never do anything unworthy of the word, you will always be happy; you will no longer need my lessons; you will even be able to do it to others.
CHAPTER V
Life is short, it is commonly said in the world, and I find it extremely long for many people. How many people are there who have complained about the brevity of life, and yet who have been bored in it three-quarters of the time? Life is too short for thinking men; it is too long for those who do not think. Time passes quickly when one is busy; & slowly, when you're not doing anything. Life consists only of action. Without action, life is no different from death. To live idle is not to live, it is to vegetate. To occupy oneself only for oneself is to live only halfway. To be interested in the universal happiness of men, and to act accordingly, is truly to live and to feel that one is living. That there are few men in the world who live; & that there are many, which instead of living, only vegetate! The rich, too proud of their opulence, and too intoxicated with the incense that flatterers constantly lavish on them, do not feel what it is to live. The poor, overwhelmed by their misery, and humiliated by the contempt we have for them, do not feel it either. And those who find themselves between the big and the small, between the rich and the poor, most often caring only about what concerns them, do not feel any more of it. Who then lives without vegetating? The philosophers. Yes, there are only Philosophers who feel what it is to live, who know all the advantages of life, and who know how to profit from them. Not content with living for themselves, they still live for others; following the example of the great Hermes, whose Disciples they pride themselves on being and calling themselves, they live only to benefit human society. Let the powers of the earth flatter them or threaten them; whether their parents cherish them or persecute them; whether their friends support them or abandon them; they are no less Philosophers, that is to say, lovers of wisdom. Life has all the more attraction for them, as it gives them time to do good to those who deserve to be done to them; & their benevolence never falls only on those who live only to work, & not on those who work only to live. lovers of wisdom. Life has all the more attraction for them, as it gives them time to do good to those who deserve to be done to them; & their benevolence never falls only on those who live only to work, & not on those who work only to live. lovers of wisdom. Life has all the more attraction for them, as it gives them time to do good to those who deserve to be done to them; & their benevolence never falls only on those who live only to work, & not on those who work only to live.
CHAPTER VI
If we had wanted to divulge the secret of our Great Work, we would have explained ourselves in terms known to everyone. But as the advantage of the Society is the only goal towards which we tend, we have taken all the necessary precautions to hide from the Public this secret of secrets; & what we have written about it is for those who, by their virtue, have made themselves worthy of participating in our gifts. What greater mess could we cause in the world than to clearly teach the art of making as much gold as greed could desire?
It would be to be wished for the peace and for the tranquility of men, either that gold had always been unknown to them, or that at least it had always been useless to them, since it is this metal which, by the necessity that we have of it, and by the bad use that we make of it, is the cause of almost all the evils that occur among men: that it is gold which now makes all the distinction of human conditions; which makes the difference between the rich and the poor, the masters and the valets, the great and the small, the magistrates and the people, and that he is finally the motive force of fortune and the idol of this world.
This would absolutely destroy the Society which has been established for so many centuries among men, by divine and human laws; and it would be overthrowing all the estates to make so common the gold which maintains them, and makes them subsist by its trade. Indeed, such a great and general abundance would make all men equally rich, or rather it would make them all equally poor. Everyone would like to command; no one would want to obey, and there would be no more subordination. Everyone will be obliged to cultivate the land for his own particular subsistence, and will be forced to do various trades in order to be able to live. This constraint & this necessity would be even greater in the climates where we are, or by the intemperance of the seasons; one can say that man cannot live on bread alone, and that the clothes and other aids he receives from the mechanical arts are no less necessary for his life than food. Moreover, as the number of the wicked and the idlers will always be much greater than that of the virtuous people, who live only from the work of their hands and their industry; the strongest would oppress the weakest, so that by making the others unhappy, they would make themselves miserable, and thus all would be in confusion: whereas in the state where things are now, by the gold trade, each one by doing only one trade and only one profession, can easily have all the things necessary for life, and only one man enjoys, by this means, the work of all the others, as if he did all the trades and all the professions himself; which means that everyone can live happy & at rest in his family, according to his condition. Therefore, we must consider our mysterious silence & our philosophical obscurity, as a very great advantage for the rest & for the common tranquility of all men; & nevertheless it is this obscurity that attracts us the contempt, the hatred & the calumny of almost all men. For, as men wish for nothing so much as to live a long & happy life on earth, & as they consider the philosopher's stone, as the only & infallible means to procure them such great happiness; & considering at the same time this obscurity as an invincible obstacle which deprives them of the possession of so great a good, they declaim & fulminate against this darkness, & get carried away with a thousand insults & make a thousand imprecations against us who are the authors: they call us tricksters, liars, ignorant & children of darkness. They say that we use this obscurity as a veil & a pretext to cover our ignorance & our imposture.
If we had written obscurely about our Science, with the intention of teaching it clearly to everyone, it is certain that we would be right to make these reproaches to us. But we are far from promising so great an elucidation of our doctrine; on the contrary, we say & warn ourselves very sincerely, that we never intended to write, except for the sons of science only; that is to say, for those who by their virtue have acquired the knowledge of our first Mercury; and that with regard to others, we neither wanted nor had to write otherwise, nor less obscurely than we did. What reason, then, to blame ourselves for our obscurity, since only those who do not hear us blame us, and it is not for those who cannot hear us that we have written. Could we, with justice, find fault with a man who, by the blessing that God would have given to his industry and his work, having legitimately amassed very great wealth, which he would keep carefully hidden, left all this wealth only to his children, who alone would have the knowledge of the place where he would have put them, and who would know that they would make good use of them? Could one, I say, blame this man for leaving this treasure in his will to his children, to the exclusion of all other men? who alone would know where he would have put them, and who would know that they would make good use of them? Could one, I say, blame this man for leaving this treasure in his will to his children, to the exclusion of all other men? who alone would know where he would have put them, and who would know that they would make good use of them? Could one, I say, blame this man for leaving this treasure in his will to his children, to the exclusion of all other men?
This has been our spirit and our conduct, in writing about our science, to teach it and communicate it to men. Having learned it only by the blessing that Heaven has given to our study, we also want to share it only with those who, in the same way, have discovered enough to be able to understand us. Thus what is obscurity & darkness for others, what blinds them, what makes them go astray & what puts them in despair, this is even for the sons of science, a light which dissipates for them all the clouds & reveals to them all the most hidden mysteries, & it is for them a subject of consolation & of particular & quite extraordinary joy; because they have at the same time the satisfaction of knowing a science that is the most useful, the most excellent, but the most hidden & the most unknown that the human mind has ever been able to invent, & which gives them all together immense wealth with the will to use it well, & a long & happy life, which are the greatest goods that one can wish for this world; and they have at the same time the satisfaction of knowing that they are free from blindness and error or are generally other men, who all either do not know, or despise a science so rare and so precious, or really seek it by a thousand faulty ways and by a thousand useless means contrary to wisdom, which is the true and only beacon that makes us see it. which are the greatest goods that one can wish for this world; and they have at the same time the satisfaction of knowing that they are free from blindness and error or are generally other men, who all either do not know, or despise a science so rare and so precious, or really seek it by a thousand faulty ways and by a thousand useless means contrary to wisdom, which is the true and only beacon that makes us see it. which are the greatest goods that one can wish for this world; and they have at the same time the satisfaction of knowing that they are free from blindness and error or are generally other men, who all either do not know, or despise a science so rare and so precious, or really seek it by a thousand faulty ways and by a thousand useless means contrary to wisdom, which is the true and only beacon that makes us see it.
CHAPTER VII
I cannot finish this treatise better than by telling my readers of a vision I had some time ago. She is mysterious, and therefore worthy of all their attention.
I was some time ago in the country, in order to enjoy there the country pleasures which one tastes in the fine season. The people to whom I went are honest people; but of such a thick mind, that beyond the table there is no conversation to be hoped for with them. As I do not know them today, I was not surprised at their character. Also, I had had no other intention, in going to their house, than to procure for myself the pleasure of solitude, which I tasted for the eight days that I remained with these totally material people.
Not far from their dwelling, which is on the slope of a hill, is a thick little wood, bordered by a small stream, the murmur of the waters of which seems to act in concert with the shade which reigns in the wood, to induce sleep. It was in this charming place that I went evening and morning to breathe fresh air. The last time I was there, I fell asleep there; & it was during this sleep that I had the following vision.
I saw at my feet a shapeless mass, which seemed to me neither earth, nor pebble, nor stone, nor wood; I couldn't define what it was or what it could be. This mass formed a volume about the size of an egg. I pushed him with my foot, & made him roll a few steps in front of me. Attentive to want to discover what it could be, I began to examine it from all sides; my eyes grew tired and dazzled; I rubbed them, and began to look at him again. This mass which, at its first appearance, had seemed to me of an indefinable color, then seemed to me as black as ebony. Surprised by such a sudden change, I looked carefully at what it could be. I ventured to take it in my hand, in order to contemplate it at my ease. O God! that I was frightened, when, suddenly, I saw this little black ball leap to the ground & turn into a horrible dragon. I would have liked to flee; but fear made me immobile. The dragon, however, grew visibly larger, and seemed to want to rush at me; and he would doubtless have done so, if a young lady had not appeared and had not prevented him, by giving him a blow on the head with a rod of polished iron or steel, for it was extremely brilliant. This blow made the dragon as motionless as if it had been marble or bronze. This unexpected help reassured me. I came to throw myself at the feet of my liberator. God ! she seemed beautiful to me. She had big blue eyes & a look to return; a small mouth, vermilion lips, & extremely white & small teeth; her golden blond hair, floated in a loop on her half-uncovered breast; his dress was light and dazzlingly white. Transported with both respect and love, admiration and gratitude, for a person so courageous and so beneficent, so beautiful and so young, for she did not appear to be more than fifteen; I wanted to testify my gratitude to him & tell him all that my heart dictated to me in his favour; but my tongue could utter no word. Finally she lifted me up with a kindness of soul that is easier to feel than to express, and told me gently, that I cease to fear, that she was going to make me invulnerable to the blows of such enemies; & finishing these words, she pulled out one of her breasts, & made me suck a milk a hundred times sweeter than nectar, & which made me so brave, that in the moment I would not have feared the most formidable dragon. Then she gave me her sharp sword, which I had taken at first for an iron rod, & ordered me to go and cut off the dragon's head, & not to be surprised at its various metamorphoses; then she disappeared. Encouraged by these last words, I ran towards the dragon, whose head I cut off with a blow of my sharp steel. As his blood flowed, serpents formed; the one reptiles, the others flying, which, looking at me, moved away from me, seeming frightened to see me. If I took one step towards them, they took two steps back; which I did several times. Suddenly I was enchanted by the harmonious sound of a musette which was heard behind me. I immediately turned around to see the one who was playing so melodiously. It was the body of the dragon that had just metamorphosed into a small Negro about three feet tall. This marvel was succeeded by another, and then still others, as I am going to relate. The dragon's head remained on the ground; she took on my eyes the form of another little Negro, of the same stature as the first, and began to play the tambourine. I took pleasure in hearing them when I remembered the serpents, for the symphony had made me forget them. So I turned my head to see what had become of them. I saw them in the same state as I had left them. They were no doubt waiting for my gaze to change into little puppets, a foot high at most. This new show made me laugh, & I redoubled when I saw them jumping & frolicking to the sound of the instruments of which I have just spoken, & which had never stopped playing. Charmed by this pleasant pastime, I turned towards the two symphonists, with the intention of encouraging them; but they didn't give me time. They approached me, and exhaled from their mouths a thick, black vapor which surrounded me, and whose unbearable odor affected my brain so much that I could not help sneezing; & while sneezing, a blue flame came out of my nose, which, in an instant, consumed & reduced to ashes, & the symphonists & the dancers. This sneeze put my brain back in its first state, which made me continue to examine all these phenomena which I saw following one another so quickly. Here it is now, I said to myself, a piece of ash; what will become of it? I began to scatter it with my sharp sword, and throwing it here and there, I saw a dazzling white dove come out of it. I had undoubtedly injured her with my steel, for she was losing her blood; & what seemed to me more surprising was that as her blood flowed, she became thinner, so that she was completely transformed into blood. The ash which soaked in it became orange in color; & the grass on which this soaked ash was, was changed into a golden grass, which I recognized by the color & the weight. Surprised & delighted altogether by this last prodigy, I carefully collected all this precious powder, with which I filled my pockets. I also reaped the grass transmuted into gold, and put it in my hat which was almost full of it, & consequently very heavy to carry. Thus loaded, or rather overwhelmed with so much wealth, I took the road to my lodgings, in order to deposit there all my fortune. Along the way, I met four peasants, who, seeing me wearing my hat with difficulty, so it weighed extremely, approached me to see what could be so heavy. They had no sooner cast their eyes over my harvest than they began to shout with all their might: help, thief, here comes a sorcerer. You are wrong, I tell them coldly, I am neither a thief nor a wizard. How did one of them sort me out, putting his hand on my hat so roughly that he knocked it down, you're not a wizard? My harvest thus overturned, put me in such a fury that without noticing that they were four against me, I was the aggressor. I slapped whoever had knocked off my hat. My hand, still impregnated with this marvelous powder which I had collected with care, had the virtue of transforming, in an instant, the body of the poor peasant into real gold; so it remained as a term. His comrades, frightened by this accident, ran at full speed to give news and spread the alarm throughout the village. I was left alone with my golden man. I approached him; I examined him; I even broke his little finger, which convinced me of his metamorphosis and of the properties of the powder. I made a thousand reflections on this event, so extraordinary and so incredible. I was still reflecting on this subject, when all the inhabitants of the village came together to attack me. I only had time to take my powder, & throw it in their eyes. Those who were affected, became men of gold, peasants they were before. This new metamorphosis caused the others to recoil; but it was to assail me with still more relentlessness. They took stones and threw such a prodigious quantity at me that I thought I had not yet an hour to live; which threw me into such great despair, that I ran to them, throwing my powder in their face. I was so furious & so out of my mind that I didn't think of sparing this powder; so I soon exhausted it. I was inevitably going to succumb under their blows, when for my happiness, a panic terror took hold of them at the moment when I could no longer defend myself, and made them run like sheep which perceive the wolf. I began to flee too; but it was by leaving the village, fully resolved never to set foot there again. The sun had just set & the night was getting ready to be dark, which facilitated my escape & ensured my retreat. So I walked, or rather I ran, until I was far enough away to fear my enemies no longer. So I sat down near a wheat field, to rest a little, because I was extremely tired. To crown my disgrace, I was hungry, and I had nothing to eat; I was thirsty & had nothing to drink: all I could do was be patient & go on my way. What I did. It had not been long since I had set out when I was stopped by four bandits, who seized me before I saw them. They stripped me of my clothes, and took off even my shirt. Two rascals who were in their company, took the unofficial care of folding my clothes neatly, as the others took them off my body. For me, I was so frightened that I let myself go, without daring to utter a single word. Parbleu, said one of the females to her companion, this young man seems quite gentle to me, you must help me exercise his patience. Tope, replied the other; it is an entertainment that we are going to give to our four friends, if they like it. Gladly, they said, that will amuse us; so we have nothing to do the rest of the night. They immediately rubbed my whole body with some black oil that smelled bad, whose virtue is to soften the bones & make them as supple as the flesh. Then they bent me all around, & so tight, that I was no bigger than a balloon. In this state they played with me, as if I had really been a balloon. One threw me in the air, and the other, after letting me jump to the ground, sent me back to her companion. The men, who until then had been idle spectators, joined in; & as they were strong & robust, they threw me with such stiffness that I leaped several times on the ground, & rolled very far. Finally, tired of tossing me about, they held a council to find out what they would do with me. Alright, said one of them, we'll leave him there. No, said the other, he must be thrown into the first cistern we come across. Which they did a hundred paces away. An old woman received me there in her arms, carried me upstairs, placed me gently on verbena, and rubbed me with a clear oil and a pleasant smell, which restored my bones to their first consistency, and to my body, its first vigor. My first concern was to want to thank my benefactress; but the horror his face caused me prevented me. So I never saw anything so hideous. She was a woman about five and a half feet tall, whose dry skin stuck to her bones, perfectly represented a skeleton. A white horsehair, once red, adorned his half-bald head; his dark and hollow eyes had a fierce gaze; his hooked nose and curved chin seemed to join only to defend the entrance to his mouth, which was wide and deep, & completely bare of teeth. She was so busy avenging me that she did not notice the horror her face caused me. With a few magic words that she uttered stammering, she made in a moment, come back to us, my four thieves & their two companions. With a hazel wand which she held in her left hand, she touched them one after the other, & made them enter into a large circle which she had made before; then she commanded them to strip themselves entirely, which they did promptly. She again began to stammer a few magic words, between which I heard one, which is made up of seven letters, and which she pronounced more distinctly than the others. Immediately there appeared twelve Moors, whose sinewy arms were armed with a wand of holly, with which they went to tickle the shoulders & the posteriors of our six naked bodies. The blows were so strongly pressed and so repeated that the skin was soon torn, and the blood flowed with effervescence. That's enough, I cried to the old woman, forgive them, please, they make me pity. What ! said the astonished witch, they pity you, you say? But don't you know the pleasure of revenge? No, I replied, nor do I ever want to know him. Anyone who takes pleasure in making others suffer is a monster in my eyes. Continue, she said, to the ministers of her vengeance, even redouble, I want them to expire under your blows. Then turning to me, and noticing that I was looking at her with horror, what, she cried hoarsely, would I have obliged an ingrate? These words struck me so strongly that I awoke; but so scared, I still shiver when I think about it.
END
TABLE
CHAPTERS,
And of the principal things contained therein
FIRST CHAPTER
The Author is so judicious, that from the beginning of his book, he warns the profane, that it is not for them that he writes, but only for the Children of the Light, that is to say, for those who already know the principles which nature uses to form metals.
Indeed, a stupid & ignorant man, who cannot conceive anything, being unable to do any research, is incapable of making any progress in this sublime science. Suppose it from a mind capable of conceiving, if it is too obstinate in its resolutions, it will never succeed. The same will happen if he is weak-minded and changeable at all times, or if he is dominated by greed for wealth.
On the contrary, a man already instructed in the principles of natural philosophy, is in a position to conceive very distinctly, the total difference of the three kingdoms, the mineral, the vegetable and the animal. And if he has a keen and penetrating mind to discover; sound judgment, so as not to err; the will pure and exempt from all cupidity, he is assured of succeeding in his undertakings, generally of any kind, because he will not make any of them beyond his strength, nor contrary to his duties.
The first preparation of our mercury is half the work we have to do to produce the Great Work.
The Artist must be the minister of nature, and not its pedagogue. Knowledge of the degree of the central fire is the most difficult part of our art.
CHAP II. The science of numbers is little to the ignorant vulgar; but it is of great use to scholars of the first order. Pythagoras knew its importance so well that he made it his favorite study all his life.
I would have many things to remark on this Chapter, but I cannot do so without putting myself in danger of revealing to the stupid and ignorant what is reserved for true lovers of science and wisdom.
CHAP III. It is not possible to better explain our secret, which the philosopher Plato did, whom we call Divine par excellence, when he said these mysterious words: everything comes from Unity, and everything returns to Unity. Indeed, the whole extent of our hermetic science is contained in these few words.
The material we need to carry out our operations is found everywhere; and it is only the cupidity of men, which by blinding them, prevents them from perceiving it. However, it is only in the mineral kingdom where it is found that we must look for it.
CHAP IV. The mysterious word which contains the secret of our magisterium, and which is composed of seven letters, is translated into French by that of Wisdom. But all that is not wisdom is folly; and from madness no good can result, the effect being no nobler than the cause.
CHAP V. Few people live: many vegetate.
CHAP VI. It is to the advantage of society that the secret of making gold is never divulged to the public eye. Each would do as much as his cupidity might desire; and by wanting to make himself happy, he would make himself miserable. Because as then, one would like to live only for oneself, one would be obliged to cultivate the land for one's own subsistence, and forced to do different jobs to clothe oneself and lodge oneself. All men being equally rich, each would like to command, no one would like to obey, and there would be no more subordination, and consequently no more society.
CHAP VI. The finished author is delivered by a mysterious dream, which contains not only the secret of the Great Work, but also what often happens to those who work there.
END