A New Light of Alchymie

Of Nature, what she is, and what her searchers ought to be.

Many wise, and very learned men many ages since, yea (Hermes testifying the same) before the floud wrote many things concerning the making the Philosophers stone; and have bequeathed so many writings unto us, that unlesse Nature should daily worke things credible to us, scarce any one would beleeve it as a truth that there were any nature at all: because in former ages there were not so many devisers of things, neither did our Ancestors regard any thing besides nature it selfe, and the possibility of nature. And although they were contented with the plaine way alone of nature, yet they found out those things, which we now imployed about divers things could not with all our wits conceive. This is because nature, and the generation of things in the world is esteemed of us meane, and plaine. And therefore we bend our wits not to things knowne, and familiar, but to such things, which not at all, or very hardly can be done. Wherefore it happens that we are more dexterous in devising curious subtilties, and such which the Philosophers themselves did never thinke of, then to attain to the true processe of nature, & the right meaning of Philosophers. And such is the disposition of mens natures, as to neglect those things they know, and to be alwaies seeking after other things; such also and much more is that of mens wits, and fancies, to which their nature is subjected. As for example; You see any Artificer, when he hath attained to the highest perfection of his Art, either searcheth into other Arts, or abuseth the same, which he already hath, or else leaves it off quite. So also is generous nature alwaies active and doing to its very Iliad (i) utmost period, and afterward ceaseth. For there is given to nature from the beginning a certaine kinde of grant, or permission still to attaine to things better, and better through her whole progresse, and to come to her full rest, towards which she tends with all her might, and rejoyceth in her end, as a Pismire doth in her old age, at which time nature makes her wings. Even so our wits have proceeded so farre, especially in the Phylosophicall Art, or praxis of the stone, that now we are almost come to the Iliad it selfe. For the Art of Chymistry hath now found out such subtilties, that scarce greater can be invented, and differ as much from the Art of the Ancient Philosophers as a Clock-smith doth from a plaine Black-smith: And although both worke upon Iron, yet neither understands the others labours, although both are masters of their Art. If Hermes himselfe, the father of Philosophers, should now be alive, and subtil-witted Geber, together with most profound Raimundus Lullius, they would not be accounted by our Chymists for Philosophers, but rather for Scholars: They would be ignorant of those so many distillations, so many circulations, so many calcinations, and so many other innumerable operations of Artists now adayes used, which men of this age devised, and found out of their writings. There is one only thing wanting to us, that is, to know that which they effected, viz. the Philosophers stone, or Physicall Tincture, we, whilest we seeke that, finde out other things: and unlesse the procreation of man were so usuall as it is, and nature did in that thing still observe her owne law, and rules, we should scarce not but erre. But to returne to what I intended; I promised in this first treatise to explaine Nature, lest every idle fancy should turne us aside from the true and plaine way. Therefore I say Nature is but one, true, plaine, perfect, and entire in its owne being, which God made from the beginning, placing his spirit in it: but know that the bounds of nature is God himselfe, who also is the originall of nature. For it is certaine, that every thing that is begun, ends no where but in that, in which it begins. I say it is that only alone, by which God workes all things: not that God cannot worke without it (for truly he himselfe made nature, and is omnipotent) but so it pleaseth him to doe. All thing proceed from this very nature alone; neither is there any thing in the world without nature. And although it happens sometimes that there be abortives; this is not natures fault, but of the Artist, or place. This nature is divided into foure places, in which she works all these things, which appeare to us under shadowes; for truely things may be said rather to be shadowed out to us, then really to appeare. She is changed in male, and female, and is likened to Mercury, because she joynes her selfe to various places; and according to the goodnesse, or the badnesse of the place she brings forth things; although to us there seeme no bad places at all in the earth. Now for qualities there be only foure, and these are in all things, but agree not, for one alwaies exceeds another. Moreover, nature is not visible, although she acts visibly; for it is a volatile spirit, which executes its office in bodies, and is placed, and seated in the will, and minde of God. Nature in this place serves us for no other purpose, but to understand her places, which are more sutable, and of nearer affinity to her; that is, to understand how to joyne one thing to another, according to nature, that we mixe not wood and man together, or an oxe or any other living creature, and metals together: but let every thing act upon its owne like: and then for certaine nature shall performe her office. The place of nature is no other then, as I said before, what is in the will of God.