Alchymic Journals

than gold, and this world is but a materiate transcript of some invisible pattern fabricated by God to recapitulate His spiritual universe—that we might altogether comprehend His teaching. And thus we watch heaven reflected in nature as though we watched it through a looking-glass. And so we pursue alchymic science not for mineral wealth but for the acquisition of knowledge, being always vigilant, quick to falsify or dissimulate lest prodigious mysteries be considered by insignificant men that might look upon our revelations with illiterate contempt. Magians from the past such as Porphyry, Pythagoras, Orpheus, Plato and the Cabalists—did they not enjoin mystification? Did not Jesus disguise truth with parable? But what counsel does such inquiry make? I am divided by doubt. Toward midnight did the master expose clawed hands?
THAT HE KNEW the constituents of the Philosopher’s Stone seems undeniable, describing it as unlike rough stone nor any sort of gamaheus, except by puissant resistance to the activities of fire. All claim it resembles gold—inconceivably pure gold—being simultaneously immanent and incombustible with a delicate aspect. Neither gypsum nor galena nor hematite nor malachite nor potash nor alum nor sulfur nor any recognizable element may be detected, because it is sweet to the taste and indwelling, fragrant and unctuous and positive, therefore it must be fundamental. Many define it as consensitive with art, spiritual, tenuous, penetrative, indissolubly restorative, by such virtues urging lesser metals toward consummation. Yet to say of it that it is materiate or incorporate would negate its value. Except for a human soul the Stone appears our noblest agent of restitution, which is why at the time of this beneficence all mankind shall clap hands in unison. So said the master. But the days of hermetic chymists are differently reckoned, being more or less than common days.
I THINK HE considered the monarchy of the mind to be his—pretending he never praised himself, although nature did because he was born of her and followed her directorate. He said we visit twelve ineffable cities, nevertheless no place belongs to us. Small use had I for such a tumbling cataract of mystification. Arrogance seemed his watchword. He said there lay buried at Friaul a topaz so rich that neither Carolus nor Leo could buy it despite their wealth. From his perch on a bird-limed twig he declaimed, scourging mankind, racked by his obligation to testify. Ex abundantia cordis os loquitur.
HE SPOKE OF Umbratiles which are but distant shadows grown tangible, and of primary spirits—Xeni Nephidei which bite and guzzle the brains of men. He inquired if salvation may be had through fasting or lip-prayer, if beatings and black drapes be good, or if it be true that upon the dung marsh of hypocrisy faith flourishes. I thought he boasted over-much. Being taken by himself he neglected to distinguish rectitude from the dignity of ideals. In my opinion he regarded the title Heretic a stamp of honor—if truth begins as heresy.
NEITHER TITLES NOR eloquence do we require, he said, nor an insidious tongue nor familiarity with saffron myths on painted scrolls, but patience to disengage difficulties until matters disclose their essence without opposition, because the most subtle understanding outweighs mountains.
TO THE COMMONEST argument of life he seemed indifferent. Years of reflective solitude had so disordered him that oftentimes when he spoke he made meager sense—stumbling, hesitating—as if that valedictory elocution habitual to pedagogues conflicted with the repository of his mind. I have heard him compared to a man born in the Dark Ages for those cunning perceptions of life—anxious, lacerated. But I judged him renascent because of his high conviction that we were meant to engender something new.
NEVER DID I see him submit to idleness or stroll about lost in a proud cloak, wearing plush and gray velvet with Moresque rings circling both thumbs, and gloves, while a dagger jiggled at his thigh, but he would labor diligently, and at night he sweated beside the furnace instead of promenading. And he wore a leathern garment with a pouch, with an apron foul as the devil’s arse, thrusting his fingers into horse dung, coal and lute, surprising us not with emeralds. He was a dirty man. Black as a blacksmith or collier, sooty in countenance, reeking full of scales, he did not gossip to patients and vaunt feeble remedies but swore the work glorified the workman, not vice-versa. Swollen tight with vanity he would pump his ancient bellows to undertake the magisterial yet tenebrous concept of reverberation, putrefaction, extraction, calcination, final projection, reduction and the like. None came to touch this vagrant insensible to muddy craving, estranged by some immortal curse. I never heard him laugh.
A VARIETY OF little pills in aspect and color and size resembling mouse turds he concocted which were Opium—called after the name of a white medicament locked in the pommel of his sword, which he would prescribe for dysentery, spasm, night-walking, excrescence and similar complaints. Fame of a sort accompanied such treatment, but I suspect the voyage on which he embarked meant little to esurient apprentices. And that any physician should foist doubtful analeptics upon suffering patients caused medicasters to vilify him for contravening established usage. On account of this, I believe, whenever the unremitting progress of loathsome disease yielded to his magistery like the morning star acceding to daylight—noting as much, they despised him and crept about whispering how he was a greasy castrate fornicating with cacodemons past midnight and therefore he should be strangled. The word Azoth he had engraved on his great flat sword—a synonym for Mercurius which is the sovereign panacea gathering strength from others, Alpha to Omega.
I HEAR OF knotted ecclesiarchs who charge him for submission and obeisance to Lucifer’s command with the aid of mineral fire—which may be. Also, it is said he fathered an homunculus without the cooperation of a woman. That he visited Byzantium on his journey to converse with infidels and purchase secrets goes unquestioned. I am told he gave orders on