Bygone Beliefs [55]
i., 1893, pp. 28 and 29.)
As well as a metallic, the alchemists believed in a physiological, application of the fundamental doctrines of mysticism: their physiology was analogically connected with their metallurgy, the same principles holding good in each case. PARACELSUS, as we have seen, taught that man is a microcosm, a world in miniature; his spirit, the Divine Spark within, is from God; his soul is from the Stars, extracted from the Spirit of the World; and his body is from the earth, extracted from the elements of which all things material are made. This view of man was shared by many other alchemists. The Philosopher's Stone, therefore (or, rather, a solution of it in alcohol) was also regarded as the Elixir of Life; which, thought the alchemists, would not endow man with physical immortality, as is sometimes supposed, but restore him again to the flower of youth, "regenerating" him physiologically. Failing this, of course, they regarded gold in a potable form as the next most powerful medicine--a belief which probably led to injurious effects in some cases.
Such are the facts from which I think we are justified in concluding, as I have said, "that the alchemists constructed their chemical theories for the main part by means of _a priori_ reasoning, and that the premises from which they started were (i.) the truth of mystical theology, especially the doctrine of the soul's regeneration, and (ii.) the truth of mystical philosophy, which asserts that the objects of nature are symbols of spiritual verities."[1]
[1] In the following excursion we will wander again in the alchemical bypaths of thought, and certain objections to this view of the origin and nature of alchemy will be dealt with and, I hope, satisfactorily answered.
It seems to follow, _ex hypothesi_, that every alchemical work ought to permit of two interpretations, one physical, the other transcendental. But I would not venture to assert this, because, as I think, many of the lesser alchemists knew little of the origin of their theories, nor realised their significance. They were concerned merely with these theories in their strictly metallurgical applications, and any transcendental meaning we can extract from their works was not intended by the writers themselves. However, many alchemists, I conceive, especially the better sort, realised more or less clearly the dual nature of their subject, and their books are to some extent intended to permit of a double interpretation, although the emphasis is laid upon the physical and chemical application of mystical doctrine. And there are a few writers who adopted alchemical terminology on the principle that, if the language of theology is competent to describe chemical processes, then, conversely, the language of alchemy must be competent to describe psychological processes: this is certainly and entirely true of JACOB BOEHME, and, to some extent also, I think, of HENRY KHUNRATH (1560-1605) and THOMAS VAUGHAN (1622-1666).
As may be easily understood, many of the alchemists led most romantic lives, often running the risk of torture and death at the hands of avaricious princes who believed them to be in possession of the Philosopher's Stone, and adopted such pleasant methods of extorting (or, at least, of trying to extort) their secrets. A brief sketch, which I quote from my _Alchemy: Ancient and Modern_ (1911), SE 54, of the lives of ALEXANDER SETHON and MICHAEL SENDIVOGIUS, will serve as an example:--
"The date and birthplace of ALEXANDER SETHON, a Scottish alchemist, do not appear to have been recorded, but MICHAEL SENDIVOGIUS was probably born in Moravia about 1566. Sethon, we are told, was in possession of the arch-secrets of Alchemy. He visited Holland in 1602, proceeded after a time to Italy, and passed through Basle to Germany; meanwhile he is said to have performed many transmutations. Ultimately arriving at Dresden, however, he fell into the clutches of the young Elector, Christian II., who, in order to extort his secret, cast him into prison and put him to the torture, but without
As well as a metallic, the alchemists believed in a physiological, application of the fundamental doctrines of mysticism: their physiology was analogically connected with their metallurgy, the same principles holding good in each case. PARACELSUS, as we have seen, taught that man is a microcosm, a world in miniature; his spirit, the Divine Spark within, is from God; his soul is from the Stars, extracted from the Spirit of the World; and his body is from the earth, extracted from the elements of which all things material are made. This view of man was shared by many other alchemists. The Philosopher's Stone, therefore (or, rather, a solution of it in alcohol) was also regarded as the Elixir of Life; which, thought the alchemists, would not endow man with physical immortality, as is sometimes supposed, but restore him again to the flower of youth, "regenerating" him physiologically. Failing this, of course, they regarded gold in a potable form as the next most powerful medicine--a belief which probably led to injurious effects in some cases.
Such are the facts from which I think we are justified in concluding, as I have said, "that the alchemists constructed their chemical theories for the main part by means of _a priori_ reasoning, and that the premises from which they started were (i.) the truth of mystical theology, especially the doctrine of the soul's regeneration, and (ii.) the truth of mystical philosophy, which asserts that the objects of nature are symbols of spiritual verities."[1]
[1] In the following excursion we will wander again in the alchemical bypaths of thought, and certain objections to this view of the origin and nature of alchemy will be dealt with and, I hope, satisfactorily answered.
It seems to follow, _ex hypothesi_, that every alchemical work ought to permit of two interpretations, one physical, the other transcendental. But I would not venture to assert this, because, as I think, many of the lesser alchemists knew little of the origin of their theories, nor realised their significance. They were concerned merely with these theories in their strictly metallurgical applications, and any transcendental meaning we can extract from their works was not intended by the writers themselves. However, many alchemists, I conceive, especially the better sort, realised more or less clearly the dual nature of their subject, and their books are to some extent intended to permit of a double interpretation, although the emphasis is laid upon the physical and chemical application of mystical doctrine. And there are a few writers who adopted alchemical terminology on the principle that, if the language of theology is competent to describe chemical processes, then, conversely, the language of alchemy must be competent to describe psychological processes: this is certainly and entirely true of JACOB BOEHME, and, to some extent also, I think, of HENRY KHUNRATH (1560-1605) and THOMAS VAUGHAN (1622-1666).
As may be easily understood, many of the alchemists led most romantic lives, often running the risk of torture and death at the hands of avaricious princes who believed them to be in possession of the Philosopher's Stone, and adopted such pleasant methods of extorting (or, at least, of trying to extort) their secrets. A brief sketch, which I quote from my _Alchemy: Ancient and Modern_ (1911), SE 54, of the lives of ALEXANDER SETHON and MICHAEL SENDIVOGIUS, will serve as an example:--
"The date and birthplace of ALEXANDER SETHON, a Scottish alchemist, do not appear to have been recorded, but MICHAEL SENDIVOGIUS was probably born in Moravia about 1566. Sethon, we are told, was in possession of the arch-secrets of Alchemy. He visited Holland in 1602, proceeded after a time to Italy, and passed through Basle to Germany; meanwhile he is said to have performed many transmutations. Ultimately arriving at Dresden, however, he fell into the clutches of the young Elector, Christian II., who, in order to extort his secret, cast him into prison and put him to the torture, but without