The Way to Bliss

THE Way to Bliſs. IN THREE BOOKS. Made Publick, By ELIAS ASHMOLE Eſq. Qui eſt Mercuriophilus Anglicus.

—Deus nobis haec Otia fecit.

LONDON, Printed by John Griſmond for Nath. Brook, at the Angel in Corn-hill, 1658.

TO THE READER.

IT is now ſomewhat above five years, ſince I publiſhed the firſt Part of my THEATRUM CHEMICUM BRITANNICUM; immediately after which, my Studies of that Nature received moſt unfortunate Interruptions, from the Commencement of ſeveral vexatious Suits againſt me: But GOD, not onely enabled me to endure thoſe impetuous multiplied Stormes, but ſome few Moneths ſince, was pleaſed to ſweeten my long-Sufferings with a fair and peaceful Iſſue.

And becauſe my Studies in HERMETICK PHILOSOPHY, would not bear with the aforeſaid troubleſome Rubs, (She requiring a ſerene Minde, quiet Thoughts, unwearied Endeavours, indeed the whole Man,) I was with great unwillingneſs forced to lay them aſide: Yet, (that I might not tot[•••]y quit Minerva's ſociety, who had nurſt me up ſo indulgently,) I betook my ſelf to ſuch other Studies, whoſe Nature would better deal with Diſturbances, and ſuffer themſelves (when unhappily broken off) to be reaſſumed with leſs difficulty; and where Variety alſo might beget ſomething of Appetite and Delight.

All this while I well hoped to meet with One or Other, who (inclined to advance the honour of HERMES his Family) would have taken the pains of adding a Second Volume to my ſaid THEATRUM, in regard thoſe ſucceſſive Troubles (hanging ſo long and heavily upon me) had denied me the Leiſure: Nor were either my Invitations to it wanting, or the free Contribution of whatever I had ſo painfully Collected, unoffered: to the end my Deſign (of letting the World ſee, what excellent Men we had once of our own Nation, famous as well for that kind of Philoſophy, as any other Learning, and Maſters of ſo tranſcendent a Secret;) might have been furthered: Notwithſtanding this, I hear of nothing (hitherto) done, nothing endeaoured.

But inſtead thereof, I lately met with a pretended Copy of the following Diſcourſe, ready fitted for the Preſs, which (upon peruſal) I found mutilated with many Imperfections, much injured by ſeveral incongruous Additions, and they confeſt to be onely made up of ſome ſcattered Shreds and Fragments, collected from the whole Work; And beſides intended, that the World ſhould take it for the Child of one Eugenius Theodidactus, being (by Re-baptization) called the Wiſe Man's Crown, or Roſie-Crucian Phyſick; under which Titles notice hath been given of its coming abroad, by other Books ſince Publiſhed. All which conſidered, together with the Zeal I have for this noble Science, and Regret to ſee ſo able a Champion thereof thus boldly, thus nefariouſly robb'd and diſpoiled of his Honour; loth I was any longer to keep my Perfect Copy by me; and thereupon reſolved, rather to venture it abroad, (though unaccompanied,) to prevent the Injury would otherwiſe be done our dead Author, and the World. (I ſay unaccompanied, for my paſt and preſent Engagements, in finiſhing the Productions of ſome of thoſe Houres, I ſnatch'd from the intervals of my late Diſturbances, will not afford me time to fit it with ſuch Aſſociates, as formerly I intended ſhould complete one of the later Parts, of my above mentioned THEATRUM.) However, (conſidering the Nature of this Piece,) it will properly enough appear by it ſelf, and very well ſerve as a large Preface, to uſher forth the remaining Volumes, (or any thing elſe,) that ſhall be publiſhed of this Subject.

As for our Author, he was without doubt an ENGLISHMAN, but hath hitherto paſſed with us among the Anonymi, and the Book (his Off-ſpring) ſhews it ſelf ſufficiently Legitimate, though the true Father thereof be as yet unknown. I have heard ſome notable Stories, and thoſe backt with perſwaſive Circumſtances, to make an eaſie Faith think the Providence very obſervable, that not onely furniſhed a laborious ſearcher into this myſt[•]rious Learning, with the Original it ſelf, but moſt fortunately directed him to three Grains of the Powder, cloſed up between two Leaves thereof, with which he made Projection; But I affect not to Fly-blow the Ears of my Readers: Onely this, I can modeſtly averr, that my Copy was a Tranſcript of that Original.

The Work ſeems to be written about the beginning of the laſt (or end of the former) Century; The main drift of the Author being from weighty and ſerious Arguments and Examples, to prove the Poſsibility of ſuch a thing as the PHILOSOPHERS STONE: whereby is largely manifeſted, that Nature has exhibited greater Wonders to the view of the World, and as great things have been (and conſequently may be) performed by other weaker & leſſer Means, where a due, friendly, and Philoſophical conjunction of Art and Nature is fully underſtood. And yet howbeit (becauſe ſuch are familiar unto, and ordinary among us) we conſider them not. Tis a Diſcourſe fraught with variety of excellent rational Matter, and fitted to the Learned as well as meaner Capacities; Nay, ſuch, as I boldly perſwade my ſelf, will fully ſatisfie both, beyond any thing yet extant of this Nature: and I believe many captious Arguments, heretofore uſed and urged, againſt the truth of this ſo infallible a Science, will here meet with ſatisfactory Solutions, and henceforth find no further place in any Diſcourſe ſavouring but of Sobriety.

I muſt alſo acquaint my Reader, that this piece was of ſo high a value with the induſtrious Doctor Everard, as it invited him to beſtow his pains in the Marginal Notes; wherein (like a skilful Philoſopher, whoſe firſt operation is to make Hidden things Manifest) he drew forth and diſcovered, that which our Authors Magiſterial Pen thought fit to conceal; and having obtained thoſe Notes (they being added to a Tranſcript of this Work, and both fairly written with the Doctors hand) from a very intimate Friend (one extraordinary Learned, and a great Ornament of our Nation) I was willing to make them publick alſo.

And now (I confeſs) notwithſtanding all this, I do not expect, what I here publiſh, ſhould pleaſe every Palate; in regard the Fate of Mens Writings is very much ſuitable to that of Money, which ſometimes paſſeth currant, and at other times is cryed down, or called in: To this I conſider, how we are not born with Fancies and Appetites, that reliſh every thing alike; and that 'tis as poſſible to ſhape a Coat for the Moon, as to Print a Book that can pleaſe every Genius: ſuch and ſo various are the generality of our Inclinations! Beſides, I have often obſerved, that Men, both Wiſe and Learned, diſtaſte or affect not ſome parts of Learning, and yet by a ſecret willingneſs, or natural force, are carried on in Admiration and Love of other Branches thereof; And this I ſuppoſe partly growes from the neglect of a ſtrict and unbyaſſed Examination of their choyce, which (if made) would appear to proceed more from Affection than Judgment.

But if any whoſe Ignorance in, or Diſaffection to this Divine and laudable Science, ſhall think no better of the Work, then of a Spiders Web, [fit onely to be ſwept away:] I ſhall nevertheleſs confidently hope it will fall into ſome other hands, that may conſider the curioſity of the Woofe, and eſteem it worthy their Contemplation, to obſerve how our Author (like that ingenious Creature travelling with her Industry) hath compoſed a Diſcourſe, whoſe Excellencies will not diſcover themſelves to the ſatisfaction of a ſuperficial Eye, but onely the intent and ſerious Inquiſitor; And that ſuch may reap all poſſible Advantage by their Labour, is the hearty deſire of

E. ASHMOLE.

April 16. 1658.

The VVAY to BLISSE.

THE FIRST BOOK.

CHAP. I. What BLISSE and HAPPINESSE is.

IF in all orderly Speeches and matters of Learning, ^[1] it firſt of all behoveth to agree upon the Thing in hand, what it is, and what is the Reaſon and Bounds [or definition] of the ſame: It ſeemeth very needfull in this Diſcourſe of THE WAY TO BLISSE, to ſhew firſt what is BLISSE, becauſe it is a thing much in doubt, and in queſtion among the Learned.

He that uſeth to behold and view the Reaſon and Nature of things, may eaſily perceive by the outward ſhape, and inward gifts of Man, unlike and paſſing all other Wights (or living Creatures) that he was made for ſome notable end and purpoſe above the reſt; and ſo not for Pleaſure, Honour, Health, or enough of needfull outward things, which they call Riches, nor yet for any other matters, which other Wights void of Wit and Reaſon, ſeek and follow. Therefore a Man ought not to make any ſuch thing his End and Happineſs, unleſs he think it reaſon for the Maſter and better Workman, to learn of the Servant and worſer: For what other pattern and end have we in the world to follow? None at all; becauſe we are the beſt Creatures in the World.

Then it is without the World, ſay you, and among the bleſſed Mindes [or Spirits] above and without all: Neither yet have we found it; for they be our Fellow-ſervants and Subjects under one Almighty King. Wherefore there remains nothing but GOD and his Happineſs to be ſought and ſet before us, not with hope to overtake and reach it, (that were madneſs) but with deſire to attain ſo much thereof, as the proportion between Him and us will ſuffer. Or if the unmeaſureable and boundleſs [or infinite] Bleſſedneſs of GOD admit no compariſon; It were beſt (yea, and by the example of the beſt Men) to make the bounds of our BLISSE ſo much of the Bliſs of GOD, as our whole Power and Nature will hold and carry.

Now then, if we knew that Divine Pattern and Bliſs of GOD, all were well: And this, as almoſt all other truth (eſpecially in caſe of Life and Manners, for the which it was chiefly written) by the witneſs and record of Holy Writ, were each to be known and proved, if that were not too ſtrange, and far off from this purpoſe, which is appointed (as you ſee) to run through the midſt of Nature, Reaſon, and Philoſophy.

Wherefore, ſithence both in this and all other Matters, I mean not to lean over-much upon my own device, becauſe a Man (eſpecially a young man) is apt to ſwerve, but to call other to counſel with me; and they can be no more but Men, at moſt endowed with ripe and ſound Reaſon and Judgement, in the courſe of Kinde [or Nature] and Philoſophy: yet we will look, as near as we can, that they be ſtill ſquared by the Rule of Truth and Reaſon.

Then, to finde this Happineſs of Heaven among Men, to whom were it beſt to travel? Unto Poets, think you? No; becauſe they take their aim ſtill at a vain Mark ^[2], the Peoples liking, as we may ſee by Pindar, one of the beſt among them, (for I will not draw of the dregs) when he ſaith, ^[3] If a man be Rich, and have his Health with a contended Minde, and Honour, let him not care to be a GOD.—A vain and worldly BLISSE, God wot, far from a Divine Nature.

Nor yet need we go to the lower and leſſer houſes of Philoſophy; where, as they be tainted and unſound in other pieces of Learning, ſo in matter of Manners, they do not well to place our BLISSE in Honour, Pleaſure, Health, or in ſuch-like outward things; no, nor to ſet it in good Life alone, and Virtue.

Plato and Ariſtotle, for their matchleſs underſtanding in Natural things, and Divine Light, in the good order of Life and Manners, have been theſe many Ages beſt accepted with the beſt, and followed in all things: Therefore, in this high point of Manners which we have in hand, let us ſee what theſe Men hold, and how near they come to the right line of Truth, whereof we ſpake before.

To begin with Plato, the Spring of this Philoſophy, his Bliſs, as he diſputes in Philaebus, as near as I could gather, out of ſo large and ſcattered a ſpeech, is nothing but Pleaſure.

And yet this divine Man meaneth not, (leſt you ſhould marvel) with that Herd of Swine, (though they were not the broachers of that foul Opinion, but watered their Gardens, as ^[4] Tully ſaith, with other mens Springs) to ſet open all the gates of the Senſes, and to let in all that comes; but onely at a few narrow loops, to receive clean Delight, without all grief enterlaced; and by name ^[5] delight in Colours, Concent, and ſome Smells, in Health, Wiſdome, and Virtue. And again he ſaith in Theaetetus, ^[6] that Juſtice and Holineſs, together with Wiſdome, makes us like unto GOD.

To let theſe two places ſerve for him, and to come to Ariſtotle: As there are two ſorts of Men, one diſpoſed to deal with others, which are called worldly-men; and another quite contrarily, bent to live alone, and to ſeek Knowledge, which are called Philoſophers: So he in his Book of Manners, ^[7] appoints two like ſeveral Ends and Bliſſes; for the firſt, Virtue, (I mean a doing, and no idle Virtue) garniſhed and fenced with outward helps and gifts of Body and Fortune; for the next, Knowledge of the beſt things: and this he ſetteth before that other, for many reaſons vouched toward the end of that Book, but eſpecially becauſe GOD, whom we ought to follow, leadeth the ſame Life.

Theſe be the beſt grounds of BLISSE, that ever any Philoſopher hath laid at any time, (for never a one hath quite built it up;) let us ſee how they be ſquared.

If the ſtall-fed Epicure may again be juſtly reproved, and reckoned as an impious perſon, whom never any heavenly Thoughts touched, for bringing ^[8] in an idle God, neither ruling the World, nor regarding it; How can Ariſtotle ſeem wrongfully accuſed of Impiety, and for the ſame baniſhed out of the Academy, if there were no other proof againſt him, than that he ſaith in that place, that GOD leadeth no other, than this beholding and gazing Life of his? Is it not an idle, and, as it were, a covetous and envious Life, turned back upon it ſelf, and eſtranged from all outward Action applied to other? yea, (and that) in his own and all other mens Underſtanding? Then to encounter him with his worthy Maſter, Plato; If that were the beſt Life, or the Life of GOD, why did GOD make the World? He lived ſo before, if that had been the beſt Life; ^[9] But becauſe He was Good, He would have other enjoy his Goodneſs; and therefore he was buſie in Making, and is yet in Ruling the World: And yet indeed, it is no Buſineſs, as we reckon it, that is, no Care and Trouble; but an outward Deed and Action, clean contrary to the inward Deed of a muſing Minde, onely ſhooting at his own good Eſtate, which is Wiſdome and Knowledge.

But if he deny all this, as it is like he will, becauſe, to encreaſe the heap of ſin, he grants no Beginning; then, what can be greater evidence than his own Writings, one quite thwarting another, as croſs as may be? for in his ^[10] ſeventh Book of State, he comes again and ſaith, that Every man hath ſo much BLISSE, as he hath Wiſdome and Virtue, even by the witneſs of GOD himſelf, who is therefore happy, and not for outward Goods. What can be more divinely ſpoken, and more croſs to that former foul and godleſs Opinion? Nay, ſee the force of Truth; he yields again, according to his heavenly ^[11] Maſter, That, ^[12] to foreſtall the Place from the worſer ſort, good Men ought to take Office upon them, and to manage Affairs of State: Yea and further, ^[13] If they refuſe, (which if they be Wiſe they will, quoth Zeno) that they may be rightly compelled. Then, if his Wiſeman hath Virtue in poſſeſſion, as no doubt he hath, he muſt (as we ſee by his own confeſſion) uſe it: And the ſame reaſon is of GOD Himſelf in this great City of the World. But ^[14] Plato by name, thinks theſe two ſo nearly tied, and of kin together, as he dare openly deny his Happineſs to that Common-wealth, where they be diſ-linked, and ſtand aſunder.

Then we ſee, that in the judgement of theſe two great Philoſophers, where they be beſt adviſed, and in deed and truth, the Divine Pattern of BLISSE, which we ought to ſtrive unto, is no more, nor no leſs, than that worthy couple of Wiſdome and Virtue, knit together in that band of Fellowſhip, which may never be parted and ſet aſunder.

But you may ſay, We have reared our BLISSE aloft, and made it a fair and goodly Work, but more fit for the dwelling of thoſe ſingle and clean Mindes [or Spirits] above, which they call Meſſengers, [or Angels] than for us Men, ſo buried here below in theſe earthly Bodies, as we be ſcarce able to look up unto it: And therefore Ariſtotle both in his Book of ^[15] Manners and of ^[16] State, with good advice often receiveth in enough of bodily and outward Goods, to help this matter, (though not as any other cauſe of BLISSE, than the Inſtrument is of Muſick:) and ſo Plato we ſee nameth his Servants and Helpers.

Indeed, I grant that this full and high pitch of Happineſs, (I mean that meaſure above ſet) is free and eaſie, to free and lively Spirits; but to us impoſſible without other outward means and helps, which, nevertheleſs, ſhall not be counted as any part of the frame of BLISSE, needful to make up the whole; but, as it were, looſe and hang-by ſteps and ſtairs leading up unto it.

Then if theſe be ſo needful as they be, it were as much need to lay them down, and in juſt account, which thoſe Philoſophers do not; leſt if there be too few, our Happineſs ſhould halt; if again too many, the idle parts might in time infect and marre the reſt: As we may fear of Plato his firſt three Delights, although they be not hurtful of themſelves. Without more words, the juſt ſum is this.

To obtain ſo much Happineſs, as our Nature is able to take and hold, the Body had need be firſt willing and obedient, and then ſtore of outward needful things to be at hand and ready: Theſe every Man knoweth. But for the Body, that is obedient when it is long-liv'd, healthful, young, clear and temperate: when all theſe helps flock together, we may be happy if we will; if any want, we ſhall never, do what we can, as we ſhall hear hereafter.

Then let us marſhal, at laſt, theſe things in Order, and comparing BLISSE to a Family, make that loving Couple, Wiſdome and Virtue, as Man and Wife, and Heads of the Houſhold; the five Properties of the Body, like Children; and Riches, as Servants. Theſe again, if the chief of the Houſhold will ſuffer them to Marry, will beget other two Bond-children, to beautifie the ſame houſe, Honour and Pleaſure: But the wiſe and good Houſholder will in no wiſe ſuffer it, leſt his Houſhold be troubled with more than may be ruled. And although true and right Honour and Pleaſure will perforce follow, yet he ſhall not regard them, but be minded towards them, as thoſe grave Men were towards Hellen, and often uſe their ſaying, ^[17] Although they be ſuch kinde ones, yet let them go.

CHAP. II. Reproof of the common and lighter ſort of Arguments caſt againſt the Way to Bliſs.

NOw that we know what is BLISSE and HAPPINESSE; we may, when we will, go into the Way, and ſhew how all Men may be Bleſſed: wherein I am quite bereaved of an helps from the Grecians, as men ever apter to ſpeak and think well, than to do and perform any thing; (though conſtancy and agreement in their Sayings, would have left BLISSE, as well as other good things, in the power and reach of all Men:) And I muſt fly for aid into Aegypt, a People ſo far paſſing all other Nations, as it is better and nearer to GOD, to work and do great wondrous things, than to behold and look upon them.

For it is delivered to ancient and true Record, that one HERMES, a King and Law-giver of that Country, a Man of rare and divine gifts in Knowledge, above all that ever were, found out a Medicine able to bring all men to that BLISSE aforeſaid, and left it behinde him in writing to his People; and that it was after him a long time by the wiſer ſort cloſely wrought and uſed, until at laſt it crept abroad, and ſtole into Arabia, when ſhe flouriſhed in Arms and Learning, and there got the Name which it now commonly keepeth of the PHILOSOPHERS STONE; And that from thence, in the ſame ſecret and diſguiſed manner (for it is the wont thereof, as becomes ſo deep a Secret) it hath travelled and ſpred it ſelf over all Nations, now and then opening and diſcovering it ſelf to a few of the better and wiſer Company.

Then this is THE WAY TO BLISSE, which I mean to take: And withall to prove it no pleaſant Dream, and happy Tale, if it were true, as the common Proverb goeth of it; but, as it is in Nature, an heroical and almoſt divine deed, ſcarce to be reached or matched with any words, ſo I vow it a true and certain Story, a thing often done, and again to be done as often.

I am unfit, I grant, and unable to bear ſo great a Burthen, but that the great deſire I have both to defend the Truth from ſlander, and to do good to them that love it, makes it light and eaſie: And again, this hope upholds me, That if I chance to ſtumble or faint at any time, they will as gently and willingly lend their hand to ſtay me, or at the leaſt, bear with the fall and misfortune. Then for the common and viler Sort, which either for lack of good Nature, or want of good Manners, uſe to wrangle about Words, or twitch at Things, I care not; And becauſe I know them not, I will paſs by them, as unknown men; for neither was Hercules able, ^[18] as they ſay, to match with many-headed Hydra, nor yet with the awk and crooked Crab.

Then, to turn my Speech, which way were it beſt to ſet forward? Not right and ſtreight to the matter? No; Becauſe there is ſuch crying out againſt the Poſſibility of the good Works which our Medicine promiſeth; And that awk fore-judgement of the Matter hath been the chief cauſe which hath hitherto buried this Divine Art from the ſight of good and learned Men: I take it the beſt way of delivery, before I come to the point it ſelf, to fetch about a little, and ſhew the poſſibility of theſe effects, and the way to work them, by other and weaker means, as well as by HERMES his Medicine.

For although it be ^[19] not ſo Natural in marching forward, to move the left and weak part, yet I ween it right Artificial; and then it ſhall agree with that good order of Art, firſt of all to put by a few of the light things laid againſt this bleſſed Science: Becauſe, albeit they be gathered but by gueſs, beſides all grounds and rules of certainty, yet they have ſo wholly poſſeſſed the common people, yea and ſome of the better and wiſer ſort likewiſe, that, without any further ſearch or hearing of the Matter, they have ſtreightway caſt it off for falſe, and condemned it: for as when ſleep hath once taken the Fort of the Body, the Senſes yield and can do nothing; ſo if wrong belief once get poſſeſſion of the Soul, Reaſon is laid to reſt, and cannot move again, before that muſt be looſened, and put to flight and ſcattered.

Firſt, ſay they, ſith there be ſeen in all places and times, ſo many hundreds, with great Pains, Heed and Cunning, to ſtudy this Art, and to put the Receipts in practiſe; ſure, if they were true and faultleſs as others are, ſome ſhould appear to hit the Mark, and to gather the fruit of their Travel, and not to live as they all do, of all men moſt miſerable: Or at leaſt, becauſe it is ſo ancient an Art, it would have been recorded in ſome publick or private Writing, beſides their own, which, be it bound with never ſo deep Oaths, (as it is) yet is it unſufficient proof and witneſs in their own caſe.

Theſe be the moſt ſaleable Reaſons, and beſt approved among the People, wherewith they uſe to batter this exchanging Science; But mark how light and weak they be, and eaſie to be wiped away: for how could the Acts and Deeds of theſe Philoſophers come into the Writings and Records of Men, (to begin there with them) whoſe Fame, nay whoſe Company they have ever ſhunned? And when their own Records, if they chanced to like of leaving any, were not ſown abroad, and publiſhed to the World, as is the uſe of Worldlings; but left like precious Heirlooms unto ſome Friend of ſecret truſt, which was counted as a Son adopted, upon Condition to keep it ſtill within the Houſe and Stock of HERMES, from the Eyes and Hands of the World and Strangers, running evermore, like the wiſe Stars, a contrary race unto the World, that no marvel though they be both in like ſort, croſſed by the World, and miſ-called ^[20] Wanderers [or Planets] when in deed and truth they go better.

Now when they deem credit to be denied to the Mens own Report and Witneſs, it is a ſign that either their own Report and Witneſs is of light and little weight, whereby they judge of others; or elſe that their Thoughts are vain and phantaſtical, puft up, I mean, with that new kinde of Self-love, and overweening Wiſdom, to ſet up themſelves, and pull down Authorities; of which ſort it falls out moſt commonly in proof, that while they ſtrive to avoid the Lake of Superſtition, they run headlong unawares down the Rock of Impiety: for if ſuch a wilde breach and entry may be ſuffered to be made into the Credit and Authority of Writers, which are the life of Antiquity and light of Memory, great darkneſs and confuſion will ſoon come in, and overcaſt the World; yea, and ſo far forth at length, as nought ſhall be believed and judged true that is not ſeen; ^[21] that even they which dwell in the main Land, ſhall not grant a Sea: A thing not onely fond and childiſh among all Men, but alſo (ill be to me, if I ſpeak not as I think) wicked and godleſs amongſt us Chriſtians, whoſe whole Religion, as S. Auguſtine ſaith, ſtands upon that ground.

Wherefore, if we muſt needs believe Recorders of Acts and Stories, yea though they be ſometimes lewd men, fooliſh and unlearned, as if they were as whole and harmleſs as ^[22] Xenocrates, but eſpecially although they had great cauſe to lie, and to ſpeak more or leſs than the truth; who can, in any common Reaſon, refuſe the ſolemn Oathes of ſo many good, wiſe and learned Men? ^[23] for he that is Good, for the love of Virtue it ſelf, he that is Wiſe, to avoid the ſhame of Lying, will ſpeak the Truth. What ſhould I ſay of the learned Men, whoſe whole care and practiſe, drift and ſtudy, is nothing elſe but to finde and ſet down the Truth? But all is well and clear of all ſuſpicion, if it may be thought theſe Oathes and Proteſtations to have ſprung from themſelves, of meer good will and deſire to perſwade the lovers of Wiſdome and Virtue, and not wrung out by fear of flattery. Which may be eaſily judged in ſuch Men, as were all either Kings that needed not, or Diogeniſts that cared not, as it is clear in all their Eyes that are converſant in theſe kinde of Studies.

Wherefore, ſuch men as are ſo bold without ſure ground of Reaſon to deny, and deny ſtill all that comes, are, in my Opinion, greatly to be looked into; for although they, like ^[24] Xerxes, pull not down Religion with hands openly, yet they are of another ſort as dangerous, that undermine it cloſely with wrong Opinions. If our Men avowed ſuch plain untruths as might be reproved by common ſenſe and daily experience, as when ^[25] Anaxagor as ſaid Snow was black; and Xenophanes, the Moon inhabited, and full of Hills and Cities; and Nicetes of old, with ſome ^[26] of late, that the Earth, the onely unmoveable thing in the world, onely moved, and ſuch like ugly and miſ-ſhapen Lies, wherewith Greece over-ſwarmed; then you had reaſon to uſe them with ill words and thoughts as you do: But when they maintain, that by a Heavenly Medicine they have made many great and wonderful Changes, turn'd all Mettals into Gold, Folly into Wiſdome, Vice into Virtue, Weakneſs into long Life, and all Diſeaſes into ſound Health, and Age into Luſtineſs and Youth again, how can you diſprove them? when did you ſee the contrary? You ſcarcely know the Nature of the Deeds and Effects, for they require great Knowledge; but the Doing, Cauſe, and Workman, that is; this Medicine, you never ſaw, nor can imagine what it is, much leſs conceive the Reaſon, Strength and Nature of it:—Nay you ſee nothing, but grope and blunder in the dark, like blindfold men at all things: Elſe, how could theſe exchanges have eſcaped, and been hid from you, in a World ſo full of all kinde of changes? I mean, you ſee great and admirable things, (albeit you do not ſo take them, ^[27] becauſe you ſee them often) but you do not throughly ſee them, that is, you perceive not the Nature, Cauſe and Reaſon of them, and that makes you ſo childiſh, to believe nought unſeen, and count all things Wonders which are not Common amongſt you; Much like that harmleſs and ſilly kinde of People, of late diſcovered, which made Miracles and Wonders of many matters, that in other Countries are common and ordinary; inſomuch as (to take one for all) ^[28] they could not conceive how two Men aſunder, could by Letter certifie one another, unleſs a Spirit was wrapt up in the Paper, to make report and tell the News. But if you and they could once by the edge of Wit, cut into the Depth and Nature of the great and marvellous Works of Kinde and Skill, which are common and daily among you, then and not before, you would be ready and eaſie by compariſon, to receive almoſt any thing unſeen, and brought by Report unto you.

Let me awake your Wits a little: You ſee daily, but not throughly, how the Moon, by drawing the Ocean after her, makes the Ebbe and Flow thereof. It is likewiſe commonly, I know not how truly, reported, ^[29] that the Loadſtone roof of Mahomet his Church, draws up his Iron-Tomb from the ground, and holds it hanging in the middle way: like as the Miners in Germany, by chance found their Tools, which they had left in ſuch a Vault, hanging in the Morning; which was accounted for a Miracle, before ſuch time as the Cauſe, by the skilful, was ſeen and declared unto them.

What ſhould I ſay more of this Stone? It is not unknown that there are ^[30] whole Rocks thereof in India, drawing Ships that paſs by loaden with Iron unto them: and yet we ſee that this mighty Stone, in preſence of the Diamond, the King of Stones, is put ^[31] out of Office, and can do nothing.

To come abroad, it hath been often ſeen, at Sea, that the ^[32] little Stay-fiſh cleaving to the fore-ſhip, hath ſtopt his full Courſe.

I ſhould now paſs over to that other ſide of Skill and Craft, and call to minde many great and wondrous Works there done and performed: The curious work of that ^[33] Italian Ring, which held a Clock, beſides a Dial within it. Thoſe three common Feats found out of late, paſſing all the Inventions of Antiquity, the Gun, Card, and Printing, and many other dainty Devices of Mans Wit and Cunning: if this ſhort and narrow Speech appointed, would ſuffer any ſuch outridings. Let theſe few ſerve to awake you, and call your Wits together: you ſee theſe things, I ſay, and are never moved, but if you had never ſeen them, but heard the ſtories onely reported, what would you have thought and ſaid?

And becauſe no man ſo well judgeth of himſelf, as of another: ^[34] Suppoſe a plain and harmleſs People, ſuch as thoſe Indians were, had from the beginning dwelt in a dark Cave under ground, (let it be the Centre, if you will) and at the laſt one odde man more hardy and wiſe than the reſt, had, by ſtealth, crept out into the light, and here by long travel and traffick with our People, had ſeen and learned the Courſe and Nature of things, which I have rehearſed unto you, and then returning home, had ſuddenly ſtart up, and begun to recount the Wonders which he had ſeen and learned; firſt, that he found the Earth hanging round in the middle of the Air, and in like ſort a bright and goodly Cover, compaſſing afar off the ſame; This Cover beſet and ſprinkled with infinite moving Lights and Candles; and among the reſt, One (to be ſhort) of a foot in bigneſs, to his ſight, ^[35] without all Touching, or other means and inſtruments to be perceived, to hale and pull huge heaps of Water after her, as ſhe paſſed up and down continually; would they not ſhout, and lift up their hands, and begin to ſuſpect the Man of infection with ſtrange and travelling Manners?

But, admit, when the noiſe were done, and all huſht, he went forward, and told them of ſuch a Church, and Vault, where other things as well and more ſtrangely than the Earth, (for that cannot be otherwiſe, unleſs heavy things flew up againſt Nature) hanged in the Air alone; And of ſuch Hills, that, as the Moon Waters, ſo drew Ships out of their full courſes, without any ſtrength, or means viſible. Furthermore, if he laid abroad the wonderful might of a little Fiſh, ^[36] like half a Foot long, able to ſtay the main courſe of a Ship under ſail; do you not think with what ſowre Countenances, and reviling Words and Reproches they would bait him, and drive him out of their Company? But if the good and painful Man, burning with deſire to reform the eſtate of his rude and deformed Country, would not be ſtayed ſo, but eſpying a calmer time, durſt come in preſence, and ſtep forth before them again, and ſay, that by his Travel he had learned to make ſuch a Ring as I ſpake of; ſuch warlike Engines as ſhould fall as fearful as Thunder, and as hurtful as any Ramme upon the Wall, a mile off planted; ſuch a kinde of Writing, whereby four Men might Record as much in the ſame time, as four thouſand of the Common Clerks; ſuch a Card, wherewith a Countryman, that never ſaw the Sea, ſhall ſit in the bottome of a Ship, and direct the Courſe thereof throughout the World, without miſſing; Is it not like they would apprehend him for a Cozener, and adjudge him to Puniſhment? Then put the caſe you ſtood by, and ſaw the Matter, I appeal to your own Conſcience, would you not think the Traveller worthy of Pity and Praiſe, and the People of Reformation?

Well then, let us return to our purpoſe; There is a Nation of Wiſe-men, dwelling in a Soil as much more bleſſed [than yours] as yours is than theirs: That is, As they bide under ground, and you upon the face thereof, ſo theſe Men inhabit the edge & skirt of Heaven; they daily See and Work many wondrous things, which you never ſaw nor made, becauſe you never mounted ſo high to come among them: If any one chance to fly away from you to thoſe heavenly Places, and after like experience to return, and make the like Reports, you give him like Rewards; Compare the reſt, I ſay no more; But if GOD would give you leave and power to aſcend unto thoſe high places, I mean, to thoſe heavenly Thoughts and Studies, you might quickly, by view of deep Cauſes, and Divine Secrets, and compariſon of one to another, not onely believe the bleſſed-Art, but alſo learn and perform the ſame.

But they will not be rid ſo, and follow as faſt again another way: That whereas ſo many have been, and are daily ſeen to wear their lives in Alchimy, and to finde nothing that good is, but contrary for the moſt part, to wit, untimely and unordinary Death, Sickneſs, and Age, for Long-life, Health, and Youth; and alwayes Smoke for Gold, and Folly for Wiſdome; and very near as often, bad and lewd Conditions, for good and honeſt Natures; (for, by boiling themſelves long in ſuch deceitful ſtuff, as though they were burnt in the Pots bottome, they carry moſt commonly for ever after, an unſavoury ſmack thereof;) It is a plain ſign the Trade is vain, falſe, and deceitfull. This is the third Charge they give unto us, let us ſee how to bear and withſtand it.

The moſt wiſe and great Philoſophers, albeit they knew GOD had made all Mankinde for that happy Life aboveſaid, and that it was at firſt enjoyed, or elſe it had been made in vain; and that by corruption of ill Cuſtom, (by his ſecret appointment) our kinde is grown out of kinde, and therefore may be reſtored, becauſe it is a miſ-leading, and no intent of Nature: (which fore-caſtings gave them occaſion to ſeek the remedy;) Yet they thought it unlawful, and ſet ſtraight againſt the Will of GOD, that all ſhould be reſtored; for that he ſeemed of purpoſe to have ſown Good and Bad, and great ſtore of both together, in ſuch ſort as we ſee them; leſt if all were alike, and in one ſtate of Happineſs, the great variety of buſineſs and ſtirring, and ſo the ſociety and Common-wealth among Men, ſhould be clean taken away: Like as if the four firſt ſtriving Seeds (whereof all things are made and ſpring) were all alike, and one friend to another, all ſhould be ſtill and quiet, without Succeſſion, Change and Variety in the World, and ſo there ſhould be no World. For GOD, when he caſt his Minde upon the building of the World, he meant to make a goodly and beautiful Work, meet for the Power, Wiſdome and Pleaſure of ſuch a Builder, and therefore a ſtirring and changeable Work, becauſe there is no might nor cunning ſhewn, no delight taken in one ever-like or ſtill thing. But light footing, for ſpeed, is ever beſt in ſuch a ground; Let us away.

Wherefore, by the example, and, as it were, by the ſecret blaſt and motion of GOD, after our Men had found this Reſtorative, and uſed it for the time, and meant to leave it, as becometh good Men, to Poſterity, they took this way of Counſel, to lay it up ſafe in a ſtrong Caſtle as it were, in the which all the broad Gates, and common eaſie Entries, ſhould be faſt ſhut up and barred, leaving onely one little and ſecret backdoor open, fore-fenced with a winding Maze, that the beſt ſort, by Wit, Pains and Providence, might come into the appointed BLISSE, the reſt ſtand back forſaken: ^[37] Their Maze and Plot is this; firſt they hide themſelves in low and untrodden Places, to the end they might be free from the power of Princes, and the Eyes of the wicked World: And then they wrote their Books with ſuch a wary and well-fenced Style, (I mean, ſo over-caſt with dark and ſullen ſhadows, and ſly pretence of Likes and Riddles, drawn out of the midſt of deep knowledge and ſecret Learning) that it is impoſſible for any but the wiſe, and well-given, to approch or come near the Matter.

And therefore it is, when godleſs and unlearned Men, hovering over Gain and Honour, preſume againſt Minerva's will, to handle their Words, when the Things ſhould rather be handled, they wreſt and wring them a hundred wayes, (for, ^[38] nothing is ſo ſoft and gentle as Speech, eſpecially ſo throughly temper'd) and yet all beſides the ſecret meaning thruſt up in deep Knowledge.

Then, if theſe Wayes and Fantaſies they practice, and ſet on work as faſt (as their Fingers itch) and miſs as faſt (as they muſt needs do;) ſhall they ſay they followed our Rules and Precepts, and put our Work in practiſe, and found them falſe? That were like as if a cunning Archer and Huntſman, had delivered dark Rules of Shooting and Hunting unto his Countrymen, and theſe by chance had fallen into the hands of another wilde and untaught Nation, which ſimply miſ-led by miſ-taking his Drift and Meaning, had made them Ploughs to ſhoot in, and goared their Oxen to the game, and then miſſing of their purpoſe, cried out and blamed the Arts of Shooting and Hunting, and ſought to blow Envy upon the Man that taught them; would not a Wiſe man judge, hold and deem, both theſe and them, and all other buſie-bodies, that ſo uſe to myne & dig in other Mens dealings, to be ſent unto their own Trade and Buſineſs, wherefore they were made and faſhioned, and to let the reſt alone for the right owners? And for theſe of HERMES houſe, do not think they make claim, ſue and recover their own in open Court, as others uſe, (that were a way in ſuch a wicked World, to loſe Land, Life, and all together quickly) but in that ſecret ſort, which falleth not within the compaſs of your Reproof.

Neither would I have you follow ſo hard, and be ſo earneſt upon the next Reaſon, That albeit our Men had cauſe to hide their Works and Practiſe, yet they would have ſhewed the fruit and effect thereof, advancing themſelves, as others do, to Honour and Pleaſure, and not have lived like the refuſe of the World, in ſuch mean plight and wretchedneſs; for that is the lighteſt of all other, though it ſeem the greateſt: If I liſt to rifle in the Rolls of ancient Records, I could eaſily finde and ſhew you, that although the moſt part, of purpoſe, lived in this harmleſs and ſafe Eſtate, which I told you; yet ſome again were Kings, and Men of great Place and Dignity, (and yet I think by Remainder, and not by Purchaſe ſo) but I love not this kinde of reaſoning; Let them that thirſt go to the Fountain, and us remember, that in the Houſhold of BLISSE, Riches are made but Servants, and not Maſters, and Rulers; becauſe they be for the moſt part unruly and ambitious, and for that cauſe they have no liberty granted them, but are injoyned to ſerve lowly their Betters, and to look no further; ^[39] So that, if our Men were Happy, or at leaſt lovers of the ſame, their Riches ought to be imployed in their own ſervice, that is, to purchaſe and win Wiſdome and Vertue, and not ſent out to wait upon, I know not what ſtrangers, Honour and Pleaſure; which as they be ſtrangers, yea and dangerous ſtrangers, lying open (as all high things) to the blaſt of Envy; ſo, moſt commonly, they will not be ruled, no more than they which get them; and then rebelling againſt them, which are their Lords and Rulers, do overthrow an happy Eſtate.

Wherefore, what marvel is it though our Men did thus, when they did no more than Wiſdome requires, nor any more than all wiſe Men have ever taught and followed? thinking, and calling it an heavenly Life, becauſe it ſunders the heavenly Minde from the earthly Body, not (as ^[40] Pliny writes of Hermolinus) by ſending the ſame out of the Body, to gather and bring home News; but by an high contempt of earthly Matters, and flying up to divine Thoughts, not with the golden feathers of Euripides, but with the heavenly wings of ^[41] Plato.

And therefore ^[42] this ſame divine Man, makes the Minde alone the whole Man; the Body as a thing that is his, and belonging unto him; but Riches, Honour, and ſuch like outward Goods, none of his own Matters, nor belonging unto him; but unto his, that is, the Body, and as I may term them, his Mans-men. And this thing alſo Bias, ^[43] before him, did as well perform, when at the ſpoil of the City, having leave, he took not his Carriage with him, and anſwered to the check of his Friends, that he carried all his own things with him, which was nothing but a naked Body.

Ariſtotle is of the ſame minde juſt with Plato, as appears notably in his ^[44] laſt Book of Manners, where he hath laid down many ſound Reaſons, why this Life is beſt, and ſo, by wiſe men is, and ought to be taken: Becauſe it is, ſaith he, the moſt quiet Life, and fulleſt of true Delight, and with all things needful beſt ſtored, for indeed it wanteth nothing; for that as a Minde is divine in reſpect of a Body, ſo is the Life of it, which is that we ſpeak of, in regard of a civil and worldly Life. And again, if our Mindes are Our ſelves, it were meet to lead our own Life, before a ſtrangers; But laſt of all, which is worth all, becauſe GOD our onely Pattern, leadeth none other Life but this.

I might be very large, if I liſt to ſeek about and traverſe this Matter: but here is enough to ſhew the Purpoſe and Reaſon our Men of Aegypt had, if it was in their choice, to chuſe this kinde of Life, which the World ſo deſpiſeth; But how if I could bring them in bereaved of all choice and free-will, and driven by force of Neceſſity to do the ſame? would not that ſtop the wideſt Mouthes, trow you, in all this laviſh Company? Let us know firſt that the Minde of Man, being come from that high City of Heaven, deſireth of her ſelf to live ſtill that heavenly Life, that is, the bleſſed Life above deſcribed; And if there be any lett, as there is lightly, it is in the weight and groſsneſs of our Bodies, over-weighing our Minde down to the Ground, and to all our own muddy Matters:—Then that our Men, after they have gotten this Golden Stone, ſo famous in the World, do not, as they think and would do, ſtraightwayes run to their Coffers, but firſt and chiefly Gild their Bodies with it; wherefore after that by that mighty, fine, and temperate Medicine, they have ſcoured out all Groſſneſs and Diſtemperature of the Body, the onely lets to Underſtanding, and good Manners, as we ſhall hear hereafter, and thereby left the Minde at large, and almoſt at her firſt freedom; ſhe, and ſo they together, laying aſide, and, as it were, caſting down all earthly Matters, muſt needs return to their own former Life again, ſo far I mean, as the Condition and State of Man will ſuffer. And ſo, put caſe you finde your own dark and dusky Eye-ſight ſo ſoon taken with every foul and vain worldly Beauty, yet you muſt not judge theſe heavenly Men thereby, but think the moſt ſharp and clear eye-ſight of their Underſtanding, eaſily able to ſee the blemiſh, and to avoid the bait of common love.

Wherefore, to cloſe up this point at laſt; ſith this happy Craft and WAY TO BLISSE of HERMES, for ought that they know, may be true and honourable, let the Common and Unlearned ſort ſtay their Judgement, and leave the trial and ſifting of any further Matter unto the Wiſe and Learned.

And therein all ^[45] Diocleſians, if they have none of themſelves, might learn better Advice, before (for the fault of ſome) they run to any raging Counſel, and bend the edge of Authority againſt all.

I grant that, as in all good Arts, ſo in this, becauſe it is ſweeteſt, there be ſome Drones, crept in among the Swarm; what then? As they are of another kinde, and never begotten by HERMES, or any of his Sons: So no reaſon they ſhould ſlander the Name and Houſe of HERMES, but bear the burthen of their own fault. They may be ſorted out and known from the holy, ſtinged, and profitable Bee, firſt by their bigneſs in Words and Brags, and then (as followeth lightly by the Courſe of kinde) by their ſtingleſs, and unarmed weakneſs, in all defence of Learning; And thirdly by their ſloth and idleneſs. For although they never lyn ſtirring, yet ^[46] as Seneca ſaith, Operosè nihil agunt, they painfully do Nothing, becauſe all they do is to no purpoſe, all is fruitleſs and unprofitable.

But Diocleſian lacked this diſcerning Wiſdome, and raſhly ran upon all, and burnt the Books, much like that part of Lycurgus, who for the Drunkenneſs of the People, cut down the Vines. Had it not been better to have brought the Springs of Water nearer, and to have bridled, as Plāto ſaith, that mad God with the ſober? Even ſo the Emperour might with better advice, have tempered the heat of Alchimy, with the cooling Card of Diſcretion, and made it an Art lawful for a ſmall Number onely, and with the like charge to be Practiſed, which had been a Counſel worthy a wiſe Prince, neither to let the hope of ſo great a Treaſure go for a ſmall loſs; nor yet upon uncertain Hope, be it never ſo great, to loſe a certain great thing, to wit, the Life and Goods of his Subjects, well and orderly beſtowed.

THE SECOND BOOK.

CHAP. I. Of LONG LIFE.

AFter we have met with the common Arguments, wherewith the Unlearned uſe to deface this goodly Science; we muſt go forward, and encounter with the Learned; who, becauſe the great Deeds and Effects which are promiſed, (that is, to make all men Long-liv'd, Healthful, Young, Rich, Wiſe and Virtuous) are above any Skill of theirs, or of their Anceſtors the Gracians, rate both the Work impoſſible, and the Workman vain, falſe, and guileful; I muſt, I ſay, prove, according to my Task appointed, That theſe great Acts and Deeds, may be done and performed by other weaker Means than HERMES MEDICINE: And this I muſt do with more pains and diligence, becauſe this Way and Entry once made in their Hearts, the great and marvellous Truth of this famous STONE, may the more eaſily come in and take poſſeſſion.

But in ſuch variety of hard and ſlippery Matter, whence were it beſt to ſet out? which Way firſt to take? Were it not meet the means and helps unto BLISSE ſhould be firſt rid and cleared, before we come to BLISSE it ſelf? and among them to give Long Life the foremoſt place, if not for his worthineſs, yet for his behoof and neceſſity? being needful in all Common-wealths and private perſons, firſt to ſeek to live, before to live well, though that, unto this end: Then let us ſee what is Long Life, and how all Men may reach unto it.

But why do we make ſuch great haſte? we had need be ſlow and adviſed in ſo great a Matter, and to look, before we venture upon ſo long a Way, and of ſo many dayes Journey, that we be well provided and furniſhed of all things; wherein I hope, if I have not of my own, or if after the thrifty manner, when I am well ſtored my ſelf, yet I borrow to prevent lending, although I take upon truſt ſo much as ſhall ſerve this turn, it ſhall be no ſtain to my Credit; but rather deemed a ſafe and wary way, to cut off occaſion of Robbery both at home and abroad: eſpecially if I take it up of ſuch Men, as are moſt famous and beſt beloved. Theſe ſhould be my Friends of Aegypt and Arabia, (though we have their ſecret help now and then) the beſt able indeed, and the neareſt unto me, if they were ſo well known and beloved in the World: But becauſe they be not, I will fly to the other ſide of Greece, and to the moſt renowned there, and beſt liked, Hippocrates, Plato and Ariſtotle, whom I doubt not to finde very free and willing in this Matter. Let us then awake our old Studies out of ſleep, and hye us to them: what need many words? after Greeting, and the Matter broken, they make me this Anſwer joyntly together.

GOD, becauſe he was good, ^[47] did not grieve to have others enjoy his Goodneſs, (that is, to be, and to be well) meaning to make a World (though Ariſtotle ^[48] withdraw his hand herein) full of all kinde of everlaſting and changeable things, firſt made all, and blended them in one whole confuſed Maſs and Lump together, born up by his own weight, bending round upon it ſelf.

Then ſeeing it lay ſtill, and that nought could beget and work upon it ſelf, he ſorted out, and ſundred away round about, a fine and lively piece (which they call Heaven) for the ^[49] Male, Mover and Workman; leaving ſtill the reſt (as groſs and deadly) fit for the Female, to receive the Working and Faſhioning, which we term the four Beginnings, [or Elements] Earth, Water, Air and Fire; and thereof ſprings the ^[50] Love which we ſee get between them, and the great deſire to be joyned again, and coupled together.

Then, that there might be no number and confuſion of Workmen, and doing Cauſes, but all to flow from one Head, as he is One, he drew all force of Working, and virtue of Begetting into one narrow round Compaſs, which we call the ^[51] Sun, from thence he ſent out, ſpred and beſtowed all about the World, both above and below, which again meeting together, made one general Light, Heat, Nature, Life and Soul of the World, Cauſe of all things. And becauſe it becomed the Might, Wiſdome and Pleaſure of ſuch a Builder, to make and rule the infinite Variety of Changes here below, ^[52] and not evermore one ſelf-ſame thing; he commanded that ^[53] One Light in many, to run his eternal and ſtintleſs Race to and fro, this way and that way, that by their variable preſence, abſence and meeting, they might fitly work the continual change of flitting Creatures.

This Soul which ^[54] Plato calls the Ever-moving Mover, quite contrary to ^[55] Ariſtotles [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉], which he himſelf conſtrues an Immoveable Mover, (that we may marvel ^[56] how Tully could tranſlate it ſo, as to make it all one with Plato, unleſs ^[57] Lucians gallows miſ-led him, which is found in ſome Copies) that he might be an Eternal Mover, is, in Nature and Being, a moſt ſubtile and ſmall Beam, or ſpark of heavenly Fire; in property and quality, for his Cleanneſs, Light and Fineneſs, Hot; and for his Moiſtneſs withall Temperate, as appears to him that bendeth his Minde upon it.

If you doubt of his Moiſtneſs, ^[58] think nothing made without Mingling, which is, by drawing in, ^[59] and breaking ſmall together the whole ſtuff, when a dry heat draws out, and ſcattereth the fine from the great, and thereby waſteth and narroweth all things, making nothing: As for Example; ^[60] Dung hatcheth an Egge, and quickneth any thing apt to receive Life, when warm ^[61] Aſhes will never do it. What need we more? Imagine an heavenly Flame by a good ^[62] burning Water, which flaming upon your Hand, or a dry Cloth, heateth them both gently, without hurt or periſhment. And yet this Sunny Beam is not moiſt of it ſelf, and before it is tempered with the moiſture of the ^[63] Moon his Wife, to make it apt for Generation; Thence ^[64] HERMES calls the Sun and Moon, the Father and Mother of all things.

Now the ſtuff and Female, to be fit to ſuffer Working, muſt be firſt open, that is, Soft and Moiſt: and then not one, nor yet many like things, leſt in both theſe caſes they ſhould ſtand ſtill the ſame, and not when they be ſtirred by the Workman, riſe, and ſtrive, and bruiſe and break one another fitly by continual change, until they come at laſt unto a conſent, reſt, and ſtay; And that upon ſmall occaſion the ſame conſent might jarre again, and come to change, the wiſhed end and purpoſe of the work. And therefore GOD caſt in at firſt, the known ^[65] four fighting enemies; yet in the ſoft and open Stuff, there are but two of them, ^[66] Earth and Water in one mixture, ſeen and extant at the beginning, ^[67] before the painful Soul draws and works out the reſt, Fire out of Earth, and out of Water that breath-like and windy thing called Air.

So that, ^[68] if there were much Earth, little Water, and great Heat to mingle them, Fire will ſhew it ſelf and bear the ſway: If but ſmall Heat upon the ſame meaſure of Earth and Water, Earth will rule the reſt: If on that other ſide, upon ſmall ſtore of Earth, and much Water, but a ſmall Heat of working, the thing will fall out to be raw and wateriſh: If upon the ſame quantity a ſtronger Heat, it ariſeth an Ayery, which is termed a fat and oily Body.

Wherefore, when the Soul comes down upon the Stuff, clothed with a fine windy coat of the cleaneſt Air, next unto Heaven, called Aether, (without the brokage of which ^[69] Mean, the two Extremes and unacquainted Strangers would never bargain and agree together) by his moiſt milde heat it moves it, and alters it very diverſly, making many fuits and kindes of things, differing according to the Strength of the one, and the Obedience of the other.

And ſo by reaſon in that ſeparation of the fine and Male part at firſt, ^[70] the ſtuff was throughly toſt and mingled, and the Heat of Heaven thereby (like a hot Summer after a wet Spring) very fierce and eager, the two cauſes ſerving very fitly, all Wights, ^[71] Man and all, were made alike, without any ſeed ſown, otherwiſe than by the great Seedſman of Heaven, upon the common ſtuff of Earth and Water. As is ſtill ſeen in the common Tillage yet uſed in thoſe lame and unperfect Wights, which ſome call Start-ups, and ſprung out from themſelves. As we may be eaſily led to think, if we conſider how, not onely all kinde of Plants, without all ſetting or ſowing, grow up by themſelves in ſome places, ^[72] and ſome kinde of Fiſh in the Sea are onely Female; but alſo what plenty of Fiſh there ^[73] abounds in the frozen Countries, for the great heat and fatneſs of the Waters; and chiefly that upon the ſlimy and hot Land of Aegypt, there are yet ſome bloody and perfect Land-wights (as Hares ^[74] and Goates, &c.) ſo made and faſhioned.

But becauſe afterward the well-mingled and fat fine Stuff, and the ſtrong working Heat failed, (as it muſt needs in time) and yet the great Lord would have the continual flitting, change, and ſucceſſion hold; The ſame two fit Cauſes were duly kept, by continual ſucceſſion ^[75] within the Bodies of perfect Wights, (the Stuff in the She, and the Heat in Both) yea, and as far as need required, in ſeeded Plants alſo.

Now we muſt underſtand as well, that this heavenly Soul, (which when it is ſo clothed with that windy Body, is called Spirit) not onely moveth, and worketh with his Heat, but alſo ^[76] for Food waſteth the Stuff: for nothing that is made, is able to bear up his ſtate and being, without his proper and like food and ſuſtenance. Then, as our groſs Fire here below ^[77] feedeth upon Weather and Wind, called Air, as upon his likeſt meat; And as it, in his due place, is too thin and ſcattered, ſpreading the Fire ſo far as it followeth his Food, until at laſt it vaniſheth to nothing, unleſs it be plentifully heaped and crowded up together, and ſo kept in a narrow ſhell of Water, which is called Oil or Fatneſs: Even ſo it is between the fine ſtarry Fire, and his like Food, the fine Fat of Aether: for that cauſe, beſides the Divine Purpoſe above ſet, it cometh down in poſt into theſe Quarters, to finde and dreſs himſelf ſtore of meat, as appeareth by his tarrying; for as ſoon as his Food is ſpent, he flieth away as faſt, and leaves his Houſe at ſix or ſevens uncared for.—I was about to tell you the Cauſe of the divers ſorts and ſuits of theſe lower Creatures, but that there was a great puff of Matter came between and ſwept me away; which now being paſſed over, I will go forward.

Then if the ſuffering ^[78] Stuff be Groſs, Foul and Tough, and the making Heat very Small and Eaſie, as it is within and under the Ground, things are made which they call Mettals, or better by the Arabick word, Minerals, ^[79] little broken, altered or changed, but the groſs Beginnings, Earth and Water, (Earth eſpecially) rule ſtill; and the Life and Soul, as it were, in a dark dungeon, faſt ſhut up and chained, is not able to ſtir and ſhew it ſelf at all. When the Stuff is Finer and Softer, with greater Heat upon it, there will ariſe a rooted and growing thing called a Plant, better mingled, and ſmaller and further broken from the low and foul Beginnings, and the Life of Heaven ſhall have more ſcope, becauſe Wind [or Air] and Water, (and yet Water chiefly) ſwayeth the Matter.

But if the Soul be yet more mighty, and the Stuff yet finer, he is able (Air and Fire, but that above this exalted) to ſhew himſelf a quicker Workman, and to make yet a finer piece of Work, moving forward, and by mighty ſenſe perceiving. But by reaſon theſe two Cauſes, paſſing by thoſe degrees, do ſo mount and riſe at laſt, there is an excellent and fiery kinde contrived, even Our kinde, I mean, moſt throughly, and fair and finely wrought, even ſo Fat indeed, ^[80] that he may not eaſily ſeem made at all of theſe All-making Seeds, the four Beginnings: whence it is, that when a Corps is conſumed with Fire, there are found ſcarce ^[81] ſix Ounces of clean Earth remaining; which fineneſs of Body gives occaſion to the greateſt freedom and quickneſs of the Soul, and ability to perform (as his duty of Life) Moving and Perceiving; yea, and ſhall I put in Underſtanding alſo? for albeit GOD hath inbreathed us with another more fine and clean Mover called ^[82] Minde, for a ſpecial and Divine purpoſe, yet that Minde as well as the Soul above, is all one of it ſelf in all places, and worketh diverſly according to thoſe divers places, as we ſhall ſee more at large hereafter.

Then you ſee all the differences of the four great Heads or Kindes, which contain all things: yea, and of many leſſer degrees and ſteps, lying within every one of theſe, which I named not before; as alſo of ſundry ſorts (not worth the naming) of Doubtful and Middle things, touching and partaking on each ſide of the four great ones, (as between the firſt two, Stones budding like Herbs ^[83] in the Scottiſh Sea; between Plants and Beaſts, ^[84] the Spunge: Apes, or rather hairy Wildmen, between ^[85] Beaſts and Us;) to proceed from the divers mixtures of the Bodies. If you cannot quickly perceive the Matter, behold at once the outward Shapes and Faſhions, as they here go down a ſhort pair of Stairs before you.

Do you not ſee Man alone, through his exceeding fine and light Body ^[86] carried up and mounted with a mighty heat of Heaven, of an upright ſtature, and carriage of himſelf, that this Divine Wit might be free from the clog of Fleſh? when other Wights, from the contrary Cauſe (which the groſs and earthly Leavings [or Excrements] of Hair, Horn, Hoof, and ſuch like, declare) are quite otherwiſe diſpoſed, as we ſee, towards the Ground, their like Companion: and ſo the leſs hot and fine they be, that is, the liker the Earth, the nearer they bend unto her, being leſs of ſtature ſtill, and after that many-footed, to ſupport them, but at length Footleſs and groveling, until it come to their Heads downward; and there it ſtayeth not, but paſſeth quite over, and degenerates from Wights to Plants; And from thence, if I might tarry about it, I would ſend them down ſtill, through all the ſteps of them and Minerals, until they came to the main Reſt and Stay, from whence they all ſprang, clean Earth and Water.

But I think it be now high time to take my leave of theſe Philoſophers, and to ſet forward as ſoon as I have packt up my Stuff round together, eſpecially the beſt and moſt precious Things.

Then, we gather by that enlarged Speech, one chief and notable Rule in Learning; that the ^[87] Shape, Nature, Being, Perfection, and all the difference in all things here below, ſpringeth from the Mixture and ^[88] Temper of the Stuff and Beginnings: The Doing, Making, and Working-Cauſe that Makes, Mingles, Brocheth and ſets all a running, to be a piece of the finer part of the whole, parted, and packt up together in the SUN: ^[89] Of which finer part, ſome remaining ſtill in the Raw and rude Stuff, ſecretly hid and placed, otherſome more freely, in the half-made Stuff, called Seed; and in finer Seed yet more lively; and in Man moſt at liberty, excepting where I ſaid it was free indeed from all kinde of Body: And yet all theſe but one and the ſelf-ſame thing called Soul, Life, Heavenly and Natural Heat, &c.

This meant Divine Hippocrates, when he ſaith, ^[90] Nought is made, and nothing periſheth, but all are altered and changed up and down by Mingling: And again, ^[91] That no Wight can die, unleſs all fall; wherein he is moſt agreeable, and jumpeth even with theſe Grounds and Rules, and with the whole Web of our Philoſophy. If any man doubt of the other two, Plato and Ariſtotle, let him reade their Books with heed, and he ſhall finde them where they ſpeak naturally, and by the light of humane Reaſon, to draw ſtill towards this one head and point of Truth: though they ſeem to ſtray ſometimes, to the infinite Variety of divers-natured and conditioned Stars above, cauſing the like endleſs odds and difference of all things. Let us now, I ſay, ſet forward in our firſt dayes Journey to Long Life, unfolding firſt What it is, and the Cauſe thereof, and laſtly the Common and high way to it.

It ſeems hard for a Man to appoint what bounds of Life are large and long enough for BLISSE, unleſs GOD (who knoweth beſt, both the meaſure of Happineſs fit for us, and the race of Time meet for it) had firſt ſet and marked them. So that the greateſt Age and furtheſt Time that the luſtieſt Men, and beſt diſpoſed Bodies, both by kinde and diet, have at any time reached and lived, may well, by the grant and good will of our great Landlord, be ſet the Bounds, Stint and End of Life, large enough to hold all the Bliſs meet for Mankinde, and the Mark which we may all aim and level our endevours at, yea and with ſure hope to hit and reach it, and no further, is about an hundred and fifty years, as you ſhall hear anon.

Now, if there do three Cauſes meet to the making up of Things, and thereon leaneth all their Being, the Stuff, the Mover, and the Meat of the Mover, which is the Fatneſs of the Stuff; then, ſure, the cauſe of their long Being and Continuance in their Eſtate can be nothing elſe, but the favour and goodneſs of thoſe three Cauſes.

The Soul and Heat of Heaven is good and favourable to Wights, (to let the reſt go, far more dark, and further off my Purpoſe) when ſhe pours her ſelf plentifully upon them; for there can be no other odds in one and the ſelf-ſame thing in all places. But the Fat Food of Life, (which they call the firſt Moiſture, and the fineſt piece of all the Seed lying hid and unſeen in the ſound parts of Wights, and yet by skill to be fetched out, and ſet before us) muſt not onely be plentiful and great in ſtore, to match the feeding Soul, but alſo Faſt and Fine, that by his Fineneſs he may be both friendly and like to Life, and Aiery, or rather Aetherial (we muſt ^[92] wear theſe Words with handling) to keep himſelf, both in Cold and Heat flowing: and that through his Fastneſs or Cloſeneſs, (which they call in Latine denſum or ſolidum) that is, through his much Stuff in a narrow room, he may be more laſting, and fit to continue. Now the Stuff and Body is beſt, when it is Faſt and Fine alſo; one to hold and hang long together; and that other to give free ſcope without ſtopping or lett, unto the continual and ſwift race of Life.

Then, to make a ſum of all, ^[93] The Cauſe of long Life, is a faſt fine Body, ſprinkled and ſeaſoned with muchlike firſt Moisture, and ſtore of heavenly Heat: If this Matter needed any further proof, I could eaſily, by cutting up the Nature of Things, ſo lay it open before you, as your own Eyes ſhould witneſs and ſee the ſame; But if it need to ſome, they ſhall ſee ſomething, and that ſufficient to content them.

For the firſt, ^[94] Ariſtotle ſaith, and we finde it true by Experience, that they live longeſt in hot Countries for the Dry, Sound, Faſt and Fine Bodies; but chiefly for their Fineneſs, yielding free recourſe and paſſage unto Life: for▪ Age and kindly Death come of Rottenneſs, which flows from the ſtillneſs of Heat, and ſlackneſs to ſalt and refreſh the parts.

Touching the reſt, to wit that much Heat and much good Fatneſs are a cauſe of Long Life, mark the ſhort life of thoſe Wights, that either want them by kinde, as the maimed and imperfect ones; or waſte them by motion, as the ^[95] Male Greyhound of Lacedaemon was, againſt the courſe of Kinde, ſhorter lived than the Bitch, for his pains in Hunting; and ^[96] the Cock▪Sparrow lives but half ſo long as the Hen, (and yet this but three years) for their Venery: The World is full of ſuch Examples. And behold, again, the Elephant, on that other ſide, for the great help and favour of all the Cauſes, above the reſt, (as may appear by their great fruits and effects in him, that is, Strength, Bigneſs, and Stomach, being able to ^[97] be the ground-work of a Caſtle of fifteen armed men, to eat nine Buſhels at a time, and to drink fourteen Tun) to endure and hold out much longer than the reſt, and to live (Ariſtotle is mine Author in the ſtory) three hundred years in all.

Now we know what Long Life is, and the Cauſe thereof, let us ſee whether all Men reach it or no; and then which way they may reach it.

At the firſt all Mankinde, by the will and appointment of Kinde, was Sound and Luſty, and lived long; and all the fail and corruption now adayes (which falſly ſeemeth a weak Condition of our Nature) crept in through Diſorder in our ſelves by little and little, and ſo by ſowing ſtill the like Children, it ſpred it ſelf at laſt, deeply rooted over all, and made it, as it were, a certain State, Nature and Kinde of Man; wherefore by good order in our Selves, it may be reformed and brought back again unto the ancient State. But how may we prove this? If GOD and Nature have ordained Man unto a Divine End and Bliſs above the reſt, and yet ſome Beaſts (as ^[98] Theophraſtus for a wonder complains) live longer than our common rate, yea and longer than any Bounds above-ſet; certainly we ought to do as much and more, by the rule of Nature, and of all Right and Reaſon: and ſo we did at firſt, before we fell by our default, which may be amended.

But leſt I may happen to deal with ſome, who will neither grant the Juſtice of GOD, nor yet yield to the End of Man; with ſome, I ſay, that have ſo far put off all Humanity: I will bring them to Natural Cauſes; I will open and lay before them, both the ſorts, and ſuits of Wights, I mean, of Men and Beaſts; that they being a monſtrous and doubtful Kinde between both, that is, Beaſts within, cloth'd only with the outward ſhape of Men, may the better judge of both (as in like caſe they feign of the like miſ-ſhapen Monſters—The Poets know my meaning, it is not worth the flouriſh of a chaſte and modeſt Pen) which had in kinde the more cauſe to live long: That ſeeing at laſt the worſer Wights to overgo us in Life, and to run to the very goal it ſelf, and yet to have received leſs cauſe from Nature, they may be driven by force of Reaſon to yield, ^[99] that we have a better Kinde and worſer Cuſtom, and that we did and might live long, but for our own fault, which may be reformed.

To begin with the Soul and Natural Heat, for his worthineſs; let us ſee which of them is endowed with more ſtore of him, that is, of the chief cauſe of Long Life. If we call to minde a little, we ſhall remember, That Man walketh upright, when the reſt are thrown to the Ground, becauſe they lack the force of this aſcending Heat, to bear up the weight of their Bodies, which we have abundantly. But, if we leave the outward ſhape, and look into them, we ſhall finde that by the great foreſight of Nature, all Wights which are ^[100] Hot and full of Blood, have againſt the Root and Spring thereof, to cool and temper the ſame, a Contrary in place and property, ſet: the Brain, I mean, ſome more and ſome leſs, ſtill according to the behoof and ^[101] requeſt of the Heart; Inſomuch as they that have no Blood, and ſmall Heat within them, as not needing any Cooler, have no Brain at all. Then, by certain race and courſe of Kinde, if that be true which all Philoſophers and Leaches hold, that a Man ^[102] hath the greateſt Brain of all Wights, it muſt needs follow that he hath the greateſt ſtore of Heat alſo. But enter further into them, and you ſhall ſee Man, by how much more he goeth beyond a Beaſt in Wit, ^[103] ſo much to burn in Heat above him: for Wit ſpringeth out of the clearneſs of the Body, and this out of Heat, as I will prove in his place hereafter.

Now, if this firſt point be done and granted, the next is quickly made, even as one Match is made by another: It ſtanding with the Juſtice of Nature that makes nought in vain, to match this greedy Heat with ſtore of good Meat, that is, of Faſt and Fine firſt Moiſture, ſuitably; or elſe ſure, ſaith Heraclitus, the Officers of Juſtice, the Furies, would ſoon apprehend her.

To be ſhort, both this, and that, and the third likewiſe, to wit, a cloſe fine Body and all, is cleared, if it be ſo that a Man in making is moſt far and finely mixt and broken, of all the lower Creatures, as we heard even now Decreed in the Councel of the beſt Philoſophers: For, if nought makes but Heat, then nought makes well but much Heat, if there be no other odds in Souls, as was ſaid above. And if the Beginnings be well and firmly mingled, and the Concoction hold, they muſt needs gather themſelves in, cloſe together alſo, to make another cauſe, yea and the laſt; for what is faſt fine Oil and Fatneſs, but Water (where with we flow, as our Brain declareth) throughly mingled, and raiſed into an Aiery, or rather into an Aetherial cloſe Subſtance: But if you will not ſtand to this Decree, then once for all Conſider, and weigh but this one Example: That albeit Man be more given ^[104] to Luſt, than any other Wight, and thereby drying up the Body, plainly pareth off more than any other, and weakneth all the helps of Long Life together, (both the Moiſture that knits and holds the Frame, and that which feeds our Heat, and this and all;) and ſo that ſum of Life which yet is due to Nature, he payeth before his Day to his own Wantonneſs; yet he Liveth and holdeth out longer than ^[105] almoſt any other: that we may eaſily ſee, that if he lived as Chaſtly, and in other points as Orderly as the reſt, he might far paſs and over-run them all, in this Race of Life and Continuance.

But methinks I hear them whiſper, that I forget my ſelf, and the Bounds of my Long Life, when I make Men able to live as long, and longer than any Beaſt: for to let paſs the Hart and Camel, which overtake the longeſt life of our old Men; ſure the Elephant, as we have heard, goeth far beyond the very bounds of Age: eſpecially the Raven, whom ^[106] Euripides will have to live Nine of our Ages.

Theſe may ſeem ſore matters, but chiefly the laſt uncurable, and yet they are indeed light and eaſie, and the laſt moſt of all, I mean the Raven: for if there was never yet Man of ſound Judgement and Knowledge in the wayes of Nature that allowed the Story, (and Ariſtotle by name ^[107] condemns it, when he giveth the Elephant the longeſt Life of all, and Man next to him) what ſhould we reckon of a Poets Record? Beſides, doth not one among them confeſs himſelf, ^[108] they are not to be believed, and held as Witneſſes? Doth not Plato, once a Poet, and then a wiſe Philoſopher, ^[109] chaſe them up and down in all places? and in one ſay, ^[110] They be beſides themſelves when they ſit on their Muſes ſtool, and run like a Spring, pouring out all that comes? Are they not in all wiſe Mens account the greateſt Enemies to GOD, good Manners, and all right and true Knowledge, that ever the World or the Devil bred?

But I ſlide too far unawares, and if we muſt of force receive this aged Raven, yet perhaps there ſhall be no great hurt received; and I cannot ſee why we may not match him with Methuſalem, and ſome other aged Fathers in Holy Writ, reported to have lived as many years as Nine of our Lives come to with advantage. It is not enough to ſay, that which ſome ſay, thoſe Years to be meant for Moneths, and not as we account them: for albeit I know the Aegyptians reckon ſo (as we may ſee in ^[111] Pliny, where ſome of them are ſaid to live a thouſand Years apiece, that is, ſo many Moneths;) yet it is agreed among the ^[112] Divines, Men beſt skill'd in theſe Matters, that the Jews account was otherwiſe, even as we, and almoſt all other Nations make it. But if this ancient Story of our old holy Man be a thing in doubt, or certainly untrue, and to be meant of Moneths, yet our Aged Raven may go with it, and the Father of that Tale together: And we may, when we will, paſs to the Elephant.

Ariſtotle indeed is the Author of this Story, that the Elephant liveth three hundred years; How then? ſhall me miſlike in like manner of this Man, and refuſe his Witneſs? I cannot tell what to ſay: It is a very hard matter that he ſaith. And again, I know that when by the power and purſe of his King and Scholar Alexander, who ^[113] gave him eight hundred Talents of Silver, a huge ſum, to that uſe, he heaped up a rabble of all kinde of Reports and Hear-ſayes, into thoſe Books, (thereof by ſome called [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] ſome falſe and untrue Tales might creep in among them; yet I owe much to that Mans worthineſs; and again, the Books have ever held the place of a true Record: And beſides, this matter of the Elephant, ^[114] both for the fore▪vouched Cauſes, and for his Wit and Manners, ſomewhat near our Nature, may reaſonably well agree with the ſound of Reaſon.

How then? I ſay again, Methinks I feel ^[115] my Minde ebbe and flow within me: and yet ſuppoſe it true that the Beaſt liveth ſo many years. The Iſlanders ^[116] of Zeil near Calecut, and the Inhabitants of the Hill ^[117] Atho, both of them commonly and uſually reach our appointed time of one hundred and fifty Years, by the favour of the Air onely, and Soil where they dwell, taking beſides, for ought I can know, the common race and courſe of the World: That we may lawfully deem, if they lived as chaſtly as the Elephant, who comes but once in two ^[118] years to Venery, and followed his other good Orders of Life as well, that they might eaſily draw forth their age longer, and come to the dayes of the Elephant. For as we in our leſs happy Soils, by our own ill Diet and crooked Cuſtom, have cut off and loſt the better half of our Time; ſo it may ſeem of them: for we muſt not think, in this diſorder of the World, that any Man fulfilleth the time of Nature, but all are ſwept away with the blaſt of untimely Death.

But it may chance that long race of Life, which the Author makes the Beaſt to run, was no common and ordinary courſe in that Kinde, but ſome odde and rare Example; And then no doubt, as there be ſome amongſt us, which by their diligence, and I know not by what good hap, ^[119] double the common Term; ſo they be not wanting in thoſe places, which ſometime prove aged Men, and which live twice as long as the common ſort, that is, as long as the Elephant. Wherefore, for all this, or ought elſe that can be caſt againſt us, let us conclude, That ^[120] Man, if he kept the good and kindly Diet and Order of Life, which other Wights void of Reaſon, by the true and certain guide of Nature, keep, having more helps and means unto it, might live longer than any of them, yea, and with eaſe reach the bounds of Long Life appointed, and perhaps further alſo: but we have ſtaid in the midſt, and mean, as it were, becauſe it ſeems to obey the ſecret Will of GOD the better, and yet withall to fulfill the whole deſire of Nature.

Then ſay you, it were good to learn the Order of Life, which Beaſts do uſe to keep and follow, if it were meet and ſeemly for Men to lead a Beaſtly Life: Do not ſo take the meaning of a good thing, with the ſnare of a foul and filthy word: A Man is not one and ſingle, as they be, but double, and two things; and partly a Wight, nay a Beaſt (be it ſpoken with reverence) and partly a more divine thing: and therefore, albeit according to his Divine Part and Reaſon, he ought to follow the Divine Pattern, and Form of Life above-ſet; yet as he is a Wight, and an earthly Creature alſo, it is not uncomely, ^[121] nay it is neceſſary to do as they do after a ſort: And if it were altogether ſo, it were better, and more agreeable with the Will of Nature, who knoweth beſt what belongs to Life, that is, unto her ſelf: for Kinde leadeth them ſtill after one due and orderly manner, when great variety of Wit and Device guideth us againſt Minerva's will, as they ſay, and quite beſides the way of Nature, unto a Thouſand by and forraign Cuſtoms, which is the onely Cauſe of our degeneration from our ancient and firſt whole and ſound Eſtate.

Wherefore, if a company of pickt and luſty Men and Women would agree to live together in ſome wilde, open, clear and ſweet Air, ſcatteredly like a Country Village, and not like a cloſe and ſmothered City, (which one thing prevents a thouſand Diſeaſes and Deaths alone) and to lie together to the right end of Nature, that is, for Children, ^[122] and not for Pleaſures ſake, (for this was made a Spur to the right purpoſe) and in as ſeldome and due a courſe, as the better ſort of Beaſts, (the ready way to preſerve Life and fore-ſtall Diſeaſes, but ſpecially to get good Children;) and to bring up their Children in Labour and Hardſhip, ^[123] mingled with much Mirth and Sleep together (no ſmall helps to Long Life and Health, as the Dieters themſelves confeſs and know:) But for this Meat and Diet (wherein thoſe Leaches offend and fail greatly) if they would conſent to take no Phyſick, but in great danger caſt in by miſfortune, (in which caſe the Beaſts do not want their Remedies) never to drink Wine, the ſhortner of Life; and to be ſhort, not take any Meat and Drink that the fire hath touched, (for it ^[124] ſunders the Fine from the Groſs, that is, the beſt from the worſt, which we now chooſe) but as Nature hath left them, and other Wights uſe them. If theſe things, I ſay, were duly kept and performed, I am fully perſwaded within three or four Generations and Off-ſprings, it would come to paſs, that we ſhould ſee this People prove a Nation of Giants, not onely paſſing the age of Beaſts, and the bounds of Long Life afore-ſet, but wholly recovering and reſtoring all the Bleſſings of the firſt eſtate of Body.

And this I gather, not by our own contrary Cuſtoms onely, taking effects as croſs and contrary, but chiefly by the Life and Uſe of Giants and luſty People in times paſt, and ſome other yet at this day; which was and is the very ſelf-ſame race and courſe which I deſcribed.

And ſure for the Inhabitants of Zeil and Atbo, which I brought in even now, filling the Term of our Long Life, although I am not certain of their uſe and cuſtom, and where ^[125] I finde the Story, I know the Cauſe is laid upon the goodlineſs of the Soil in the firſt, (for it is thought to be the bleſſed Paradiſe) and upon the goodneſs of the Air in the next, for the height of the Hill, ^[126] without all Wind and Rain, two great troubles of Mens bodies: yet I am led to think, that they do keep the ſame orderly and kindly form and rule of Life, or, at the leaſt, do draw near unto it: becauſe albeit clean Air, by cleaning and quickning the Spirits, and ſearching the Body, be no little help and comfort in this Journey; (As we ſhall eaſily ſee, if we mark, ^[127] how amongſt all Creatures, thoſe that lead their lives in the cleaner Element do live the longer; Fiſh than Worms; and Land-Wights than Theſe; and Winged ones, yet longer, becauſe the higher, the better Air ſtill: Inſomuch that ^[128] Cardan dares think, that if any dwell in Aether, as Plato's heirs affirm, they live for ever:) yet if ill Diet went withall, it would marre as much as the other made, and greatly cloy and hinder, yea, and cut ſhort the race of their Long Life.

I am of the ſame minde for all other odde and private Perſons of great Age and Long Life recorded; (as for ſome Italians in ^[129] Pliny's time regiſtred of one hundred and forty years, and ſuch other aged Men in Authors) a Man might let in here a Sea of Examples, but I muſt be ſhort. Neither would I name King Arganthon, ^[130] that lived a hundred and twenty years, and reigned eighty thereof; nor yet that old Knight of our Country, Sir—^[131] Allington, yet twenty years older, but that it is ſo ſtrange in Nobility: that they came as near unto that kindly courſe of Life, as unto the goal and end of Long Life.

Then we ſee at length, that it is not impoſſible, as they ſay, but an ordinary and eaſie matter to ſtrengthen the weak Nature of Mankinde, to enlarge the ſtraits of his Life, and to lead him on ſtill to the ancient Age, and Long Life appointed.

But I ſee them ſtart and ſay, that like as ^[132] Cato in Affairs of State, uſed to give Counſel (unwiſely, though never ſo well) as if he had been in Plato's Common-wealth, and not in the Dregs of Romulus: ſo I, in matter of Diet, and order of Body, ſpeak as if we lived in the former Golden Age, which, as Poets feign, was under Saturn, and not in the corruption of Jupiters Kingdom: and that ſith the World, as it now goeth, cannot be brought, without a kind of Divine Power, to raſe out the old, and make a new World, (and that in long time) unto the firſt and kindly cuſtom of Life; I muſt, if I mean to do wiſely, take the Men as I finde them, and prove that all ſuch weakneſs, as is now among them, may by Mans endevour and skill of Healing, be upholden and led forth unto thoſe bounds, and that end of Long Life afore-ſet.

Albeit I have done as much as reaſonably may be required at my hands, in this place, which was allotted out to ſhew the poſſibility of the Matter; yet becauſe I count it better, by plainneſs of ſpeech to do good, which is the end of my Writing, than by ſubtileneſs of Argument to obtain my purpoſe; I will come unto you, and venture upon that Point alſo, be it never ſo hard and deſperate, hoping, not that Fortune will favour bold Men, but GOD good Men.

Then, as there are three Cauſes of Life and Being: the Life and Soul it ſelf; and his Food the firſt Moiſture; and the frame and temper of the Body that holds them both: ſo let us take them all in order, and ſee how they may be preſerved and kept together, beginning firſt with the laſt, becauſe it is leaſt and lighteſt.

It is enacted by the Law of Nature, ^[133] That no Body, mixt or ſingle, ſhall or may live and preſerve his eſtate and being, without two helps or ſtayes, that is, Meat and Exerciſe, each like his Kinde, and of his Nature: As in lone and ſimple, or ſubtile Bodies, (for it is plain in the firſt row, eſpecially if they be Living, as they term them, though all things indeed have Life and Soul, as we heard above) the Hot ones crave fiery Meat and moving Exerciſe, Moiſt ones, as Wind and Water, flowing Food and Exerciſe; Cold and Dry things like and Earthly Suſtenance, and Reſt for Exerciſe, which is alſo like, and preſerves their State and Being.

But if all lone and ſimple things are within the Compaſs of this Law, then Heaven may not be free nor exempted; and they ſpeak not altogether fondly that ſay, the Stars ^[134] feed upon the Sea, and for that cauſe, by good advice of Nature, the Ocean ſo rightly placed under the courſe and walk of the Sun: for although the Water be yet ſo far off and unlike them, yet their power and ſtrength is ſuch, as they are able by their labour, eaſily to refine it, and turn it firſt into Air, and then into Aether, a weaker like thing, and their proper food.

That this is ſo, the hungry Souls (which are but Imps ſlipt off the Heavenly Body) make it plain here below unto us, when we ſee them ſtill unwilling to tarry, and unable to live amongſt us without Meat; as they bewray themſelves by the plain expence and waſte of the firſt moiſture: Nay, take this one away, if you will mark well, and all lieth on the Ground; Then there is an old coyl and fighting here below, for Meat and Exerciſe, that is, for life and being, (which makes the cauſe of all action and doing, reſt and change, and of all things:) and every one runneth eaſily and gladly to his like, and if his ſtrength be never ſo little greater, he ſubdues, digeſts, and turns him into his own Nature, and is ſtrengthned by him: But if he miſs of his like food at hand, and be much ſtronger, he dares encounter, and is able to quell unlike things alſo; as I ſaid of the Stars, the mightieſt things (giving Might to all things) in the World. But in caſe the unlikes and contraries be of equal power, and matches, then neither devoureth and conſumeth other, but both are marred, dulled and weakned, which they call Conſent, and Temper and Mixture. For Example, Fire extreme hot and ſomewhat dry withall, and Water very cold and ſomewhat wet, meeting together in even powers and proportions of ſtrength are both impaired, but neither loſt and deſtroyed: But if this Water chance by the heat of Heaven to be taken in hand, and turned into Aiery and fat ſubſtance; though there be now two Moiſtures ſet againſt the drought of Fire, yet becauſe of the heat of Weather and Heaven abounding, it is now become partly like to Fire, and friendly, or at leaſt his weaker Foe and Enemy, yielding himſelf for Food unto it, and increaſing his ſtrength and Nature: But if, on the other ſide, Air, unto his exceeding Moiſture, matching the drought of Fire, get ſome ſtrength and watery coldneſs (as appeareth in a thick and foggy weather) it is able eaſily to overcome the Fire, and eat him up.

Now for a mixt Body (which is a ^[135] conſent and dulling the four firſt famous Enemies, made and kept in tune and awe, by the force and skill of an heavenly and natural Heat upon them) it hath the ſame reaſon; for when, either for lack of Meat, or driven by Violence, this Heat departeth, the friends begin to ſtir and fight for Food and Freedom, until ſome one ſtands out above the reſt, and recovers ſome part of his former Power, (which puts thoſe that can feel to pain, and breeds Diſeaſes) and at laſt gets the whole Lordſhip and rule over all, and turns them all into his own Nature; Then the old conſent, knot and body, is broken, loſt and ſpoiled; and a new made and gotten, ſtill going downward, untill they return to Earth, from whence they all came; for Example, and that near home; for the fiery frame of Mans Body, ^[136] when the Soul for want of food fails and flits away, they ſtraight retire, and run back in order; firſt Fire waxeth moiſt and lukewarm, ſupt up with Air; and this, ſoon after, thick and cold, that is, Wateriſh; and Water muddy, ſtill more and more thick and dry, till at laſt it be moiſt, dry and heavy, and all be devoured and brought to ^[137] Earth, from whence they all ſet forth before.

And this is natural Diſſolution, and Death of our Bodies, forcible Death and Deſtruction is by Diſeaſes, (to bar out other force, which no man can warrant) when either Breath or Meat, diſtemper'd in ſome quality, do feed and nouriſh ſome one their like beginning above the reſt, and make him ſtrong and able to vanquiſh them, and bring in the Jarre of that Muſical Conſent aforeſaid: As when by wateriſh Meat and Air, all the beginnings are changed into Water, the Hot and Dry, into a fiery temper, and ſo forth; or elſe when the Body wants the Exerciſe, which is owing and due unto him; which is quick Motion, to preſerve the Air and Fire in the fine frame and temper of Man, from the ſloth and idleneſs of the ſlow and ruſty Beginnings.

By which grounds laid, we ſee the way to uphold the temper of our Body, made plain and eaſie; No more but to feed and cheriſh it with clean and temperate Air and Meat continually: that all the Beginnings ſerved and fed alike, one may not be more proud, ſtrong and able than another, to ſubdue the reſt, and overthrow the ſtate. And thereof it is that Poyſon killeth, is, becauſe it is extreme Cold and Dry, (for we may ſhut out all Rotten, as alſo Fiery and Watery Tempers, from the name of Poyſon) feeding and ſtrengthning the Dregs, but devouring the fine Liquor of the Body, wherein the Life ſtandeth, when as the ſame Poyſon nouriſheth and maintaineth the like framed and ſo tempered Body, as venomous Juyces the like Plants, and theſe noiſome Beaſts, as one of theſe another. Nay, which is very ſtrange, I have read of ſuch natured ^[138] Men of India, that uſed to eat Toads and Vipers: And Albertus ſaith he ſaw a Girl of three years old, that fed greedily upon Spiders, and was never hurt, but liked greatly with it.

Do not think it any Diſcord, when I ſaid above Faſt-fineneſs, and now Temperateneſs upholds the Body; all is one. It cannot be Faſt, unleſs the Earth and Water be well and evenly mixt; nor Fine, except Fire and Air bear as good a ſtroke of rule among them.

But you will ſay, that Nature hath given her Creatures a walk of courſe, not to ſtand ſtill in one ſtay and place for ever, but to move and walk up and down, to and fro, from one ſide to another; that is, as it was ſaid before, GOD hath made a changeable World; and therefore this frame and building of Mans Body, cannot ever hold and hang together, but muſt needs one day be looſened, and fall aſunder.—I grant it muſt be ſo, by the courſe of Nature, becauſe to fulfil the Will of her Lord, ſhe hath appointed a ſtronger means and cauſe to work it; either the want and abſence of the inward Friendſhip, and keeping of the Soul in thoſe which the common ſort call Living things; or, in the reſt, the preſence of ſome ravenous and ſpoiling Enemy: But if cunning Art and Skill (which by the help of Nature, is above the courſe of Nature) by knowledge of the due Food for Life, and defence againſt the Enemy, may be able to defend the one, and keep off the other; then, no doubt, the frame and temper of both Dead and Quick may laſt for ever.

The way is found already, and known by certain and often proof for the one; I mean, that Art hath often, by keeping off the ſpoiling Enemy with a ſtrong Contrary, preſerved and upheld a dead thing of ſlippery ſtate, and ſoon decay, for ever: as a ^[139] Corps by Balm, or Water of Salt, Timber by the Oyl of ^[140] Brimſtone, and ſuch like: why then ſhould the next prove impoſſible? to wit, by giving ſtore of fit Food ſtill to Life and natural Heat, (for the other two helps of Meat and Exerciſe are eaſie) to under-ſhore, and keep upright our weak and falling frame for ever? The Greeks hold, that our natural Heat and Life, becauſe it feeds upon and waſheth the moſt fine and unſeen Oyl (called firſt Moiſture) daily, which no Food of Air or Meat is fit and fine enough to repair, muſt needs faint and fail withall, and cannot be reſtored: Let us ſee what may be ſaid to this, yea and bend all our force unto it; for this is all.

The Soul and Life, and Natural Heat of things, is often and fitly compared and likened unto the other groſs and fierce, hot and dry Body, called Fire; to feed and maintain this, his weak Like, that is, Air, cannot be wanting: and becauſe it, in his due place, is too thin and ſcattered, dividing the Fire to nought in purſuit of his Food & Suſtenance, it muſt needs by heaps be crowded up in a ſhell of Water, called Oyl or Fat, as we heard before. In that Fight & Battel, if much Heat and Oyl meet together, the work is great and buſie, & thereout ariſeth a ſmoke, as a leaving of the Meat, and the Fire follows as far as the Smoke hath any Fatneſs, which makes a flame.

Albeit the Nature of Fire be, as long as he hath Food enough to crave no great Exerciſe, and will laſt well in a cloſe place, ^[141] as under Aſhes, &c. yet a Flame being more than Fire, (a hot Smoke or Breath beſides) deſires open and clean Air, both to receive the thi[•]k refuſe, which elſe would choke him; as alſo for his like weaker Food, that he be not ſtarved: which two are enough, beſides a little Motion for his Exerciſe. That we may marvel as thoſe Men ^[142] which bring in Cooling for another needful thing in this buſineſs, whereas the kinde of Fire and Air abhor Cooling as his contrary; as it is engraven in the Nature of all things, ſtill to fly from that which hurts it.

Now in like manner to come to the purpoſe, if the Fire of Life and Natural Heat be not great, a little fine Oyl and firſt Moiſture will ſerve to feed it, and out of that ſlack working ſmall ſtore of refuſe Breath and Smoke ariſeth, to make any need of freſh and open Air to clenſe and feed it, as appears by thoſe Wights, which are able to live in their places without help of Wind, Breath and Air: The little parted Vermin (called in Latine Inſecta) anywhere; & Fiſh in the Water, ^[143] nay in the ſound Earth ſometimes; and Toads in cloſe Rocks, as ^[144] Agricola; and Flies in the moſt fierce Miners fire, as ^[145] Ariſtotle reports. But when that Heat on the other ſide, is great and lively like a Flame, as in the hotter ^[146] Fiſh, and other; no Wight can want freſh Air and fine Breath, both by his clearneſs to purge, and his weaker likeneſs to nouriſh the Aethereal Smoke, and Spirit that carrieth it: Now this, no more than a Flame, needeth cooling to preſerve his Being, but to temper a kinde of hid proportion, fit for Wit and weighty Perceiving, which I ſaid before, the Brain and not the Air performed.

That Aether is ſtronger than Air, and able to conſume it, 'tis plain in Reaſon by his Warmth and Moiſtneſs, paſſing Air in his own Nature; and yet groſs and thick Air, as bent toward enmity and contrariety with it, will ſtand in combate againſt it, and overcome it: And thence it is, that in deep Mine-pits and Caves under ground, where the Air is thick, corrupt and unkinde, for want of flowing, no Wight nor Light can draw Breath and live, unleſs by ſly device the way be found to move and nouriſh the ſame Air and make it kindly.

Then to draw near the Matter; If the Stars do feed on Aether, and this upon clean and ſpotleſs Air, as on the weaker Likes; and our Soul and Life is of a ſtarry kind; even a ſlip and ſpark thereof, as is aforeſaid, then it followeth, That to feed our Aether ^[147], the carrier of our Soul, good Air which is round about us, will ſerve the turn; but to nouriſh Life and Heat it ſelf, Aether it ſelf muſt be the Food, even this Body which is ſo high, and ſo far paſt our reach, except this Spark of heavenly Fire, were able like the whole Body, and Spring above, by his power over our Meats, to turn the Water, firſt into Breath, and this into Aether; which it is not, and can go no further than to Air, and to make a common Oyl and Fatneſs, fit to nouriſh an Elemental, as they term it, but not an Heavenly Fire.

Where then ſhall our Life finde Food and Suſtenance, ſay you, fit to bear it up, and maintain his Being? In that fine Oyl, and unſeen firſt Fat and Moiſture? And call you that Aethereal? how can that which was once Seed, and before that Blood, and firſt of all a Plant, become a Body ſo fine, clean and Aethereal? eſpecially when one weak Star, a ſoft Fire of Heaven, is not able to make ſo fine a Work, ſo far and highly ſundred?—I marry, this is the Secret and Depth of all, which becauſe the Greeks never ſounded, I do not marvel if the means to preſerve Life did eſcape them. But let us ſhut out Envy, and help them in this helpleſs Matter; yea, although we be driven to open the things that have lain long hid, and covered long with great Darkneſs.

When our Life in the luſting parts is by the Bellows of Thought ſtirred up and moved unto Work, it ſendeth forth out of every part, the hot natural Spirits and Breath of Begetting, ^[148] clothed with the ſhell of Seed, cut out from the dewy part of our Meat, ready to be turned into our Body; (or at leaſt, already and now newly turned) and not from the Refuſe and Leaving of it, ^[149] as ſome ſay, when I could ſhew it, if time would ſuffer, ^[150] the beſt Juyce in all the Body.

This is the furtheſt and fineſt Workmanſhip of our Meat and Food of Body, the very beginning and firſt Stuff of that fine Oyl the Food of Life, after that remaining forty dayes in heat, before it come to perfection, being wrought, as we know, with the double natural heat of the begetting Breath and Womb, forty dayes before it be fully framed and faſhioned into the Form and Shape of a Man, ready to draw Food and Nouriſhment (be it Milk or Menſtrue, received by Mouth or Navel, I cannot ſtand to Reaſon) from the Mother, to the increaſe of the tough or ſounder parts: But the firſt Moiſture is now at his full growth and perfection, and from thence feedeth Life, being unfed it ſelf, and waſteth daily, againſt the grounds and rules of Phyſick: for the Childe hath now received all that the Workman can, and is put over for the reſt, which is his Nouriſhment, unto his Mothers payment; but what hath ſhe to give unto the food of Life? nought, as I ſhewed, elſe we might live for ever.

Then we ſee what the firſt Moiſture is, and how it excels the Food of the Body, and why it cannot be maintained by it, becauſe it is the moſt fine and aiery piece (for the reſt go every one his own way, to make his own part from whence he came) of all the Seed mingled, wrought, purged, raiſed and refined, and then cloſely thickned, and driven up cloſe together, forty times more and above our Meat, which in one day is ended, and ready to be turned, and therefore unfit in any wiſe to increaſe and cleave to our firſt Moisture, the Food of Life, even as unmeet for all the world, as Water is to other Oyl and Fatneſs.

And by this, to come to the point, we have a plain Pattern (if we be Wiſe and Careful) and way to work the great Myſtery of Adjournment of Life; for if it be ſo as I proved above, that all the Moiſture of the Matter lieth in the maintenance of our Natural Heat; and it, as our Men, & all Reaſon teacheth, followeth the ſteps of common Fire, waxeth and waneth, is quick and faint, according to the ſtore of his Food and firſt Moiſture; then ſure if we can make an Oyl as fine and cloſe as this, nay in all points all one with this, it will eaſily mingle and joyn with our firſt Moiſture, and ſo feed, nouriſh and encreafe it, and Life withall; even in as good and plain Reaſon, as the ſame Oyl dropt in ſtill into the Fire, augments both Food and Flame together: yea, put caſe the ſame natural Fire of ours, ſhould not onely pair his ſtrength, for lack of Meat, and ſlack his force, but abate of bigneſs alſo, as ſome Phyſicians hold, yet there were no great hurt done; for this ſecond ſpark and ſlip of the great and common Fire of Nature, being a piece of the finer part of the whole, (which is all one in all things) and fellow to his Like in us, when it is made free and looſe in this fine and Aethereal Medicine, would reſtore the Heap and mend the Matter.

But how ſhall we get the like fine Oyl and firſt Moiſture? the Matter is driven ſo far, that there is all the hardneſs. I ſhewed you the Pattern; even as Nature got the ſame before you, by the like Stuff and Seed, and by the like Heat and moving Workman: This by certain proof of all our Men is eaſie to be found, even any gentle, continual, equal, and moiſt, that is, any rotting Heat. But the Seed ſeemeth hard and unable to be matched, becauſe a kinde of ſtrange and hid proportion and temper of our Body, (which no Man by conceit and knowledge, much leſs by hand and workmanſhip, can reach and counterfeit, no not if he boiled all the Mixtures in all the Heats, that all the Wits in the World could deviſe) made it thus after his own faſhion.

Then, how if we take the ſame frame and temper, not by us, but by Kinde proportioned, I mean, the ſame Blood, Fleſh and Seed, if we will, (which the Man of Germany chooſeth, and commendeth above all, and calls it Mummia) would it not be very natural? for if the ^[151] Leaches hold it good, if any part about us fail in his duty, to correct and help him with the like part of ſome Beaſt, paſſing in that property; as to mend fainting ^[152] Luſt, with the Yard of a Luſty Beaſt; the Womb that cannot hold, with the Womb of a quick Conceiver; Narrow breathing, with the Lungs of a long-winded Wight, and ſo forth: then conſider with how much more kindly conſent, we might with our own parts finely dreſſed help our ſelves in our Diſeaſes.

But for my part, I cannot unwinde the bottom of this great Secret of Germany; for we mean not to make a Man, which is to be feared in that courſe, if his Rule be true, but a firſt Moiſture onely: and then, ſith all things are made of the ſame Stuff, by the ſame Workman, and differ but by Mingling onely, it boots not where we begin, and upon what Stuff, in ſtead of that Seed, if we give him the ſame Mingling and form at the laſt, which Art is able in time to do, becauſe that which Kind is forced to do at once, ſhe may do often, and ſo reach the end of Nature.

What need I ſay more? Is not the Matter clear enough? that another faſt fine Oyl and firſt Moiſture may be made in all points like to our own, and able to maintain or repair it, and the natural Heat together? and then that by the ſame (though other eaſie means would ſerve) becauſe it is ſo temperate, the Body may be brought and held in ſquare and temper? And ſo, by reaſon all the Cauſes meet and flock together, that Life may be preſerved, I dare not ſay for Ever, for fear of the ſtroke of Deſtiny, which GOD hath made, and will have kept, but unto that Term, and thoſe Bounds above-ſet, and beyond them alſo, if any Man have ever gone beyond them.

But if it ſhould chance any of our choſen Children, (to uſe the phraſe of our Family) to be unable yet for all this teaching, to take and digeſt this Food of Learning, what is to be done? ſhall we caſt them off for untoward Changelings, as the fooliſh Women think? or elſe for Bears and Apes, as ^[153] Galen did the Germans? No, that were Inhumanity; Let us rather nouriſh them ſtill eaſily and gently, hoping that they will one day prove Men; and give it out unto them, That all the moſt Wiſe and Cunning Men in the World, I mean, all the Hoſts of Hermetiſts, have from Age to Age ever held (but under Vails and Shadows ſomewhat covertly) and taught for certain, that ſuch a firſt fine Oyl, whereof I ſpake, and which they call a Fifth Nature, Heaven, or, by a more fit name Aether, is able alone to hold together the brittle ſtate of Man very long above the wonted race, both in Life, Health and Luſtineſs. Nay, for fear there be yet ſome ſuſpicion left in their Authorities, I will go further.

As many of the other ſide of Greece, as had travelled in theſe Matters, and ſeen ſomething, (though not with Eyes, but in Minde, I think) confeſs the ſame; as (beſides them which perhaps I know not) Fernelius in part, and altogether Ficinus and Cardan, (two as wily and learned Men as any time hath of late brought forth) do openly declare in their Writings. But if this ſoft and eaſie kinde of delivery will not yet ſerve the turn, and they muſt feed their Eye as well as their Belly, as the Proverb goes; then let them tell me, by what diligence did ^[154] Plato ſo order Himſelf and ſchool his Body (to uſe his own words) as he could be able to cauſe Nature to end his dayes at his pleaſure? And by Departing upon the ſame day Eighty one years after his Birth, to fulfill of purpoſe Nine times Ninè, the moſt perfect Number? Might he not have had ſome ſuch Medicine? Nay, is it not like he had, when he was in ^[155] Aegypt among the Prieſts and Wiſe-men, and brought home Learning from them? and when he ſpeaks ſo much and often in diſgrace of his own Country ^[156] Phyſick, though Hippocrates himſelf then reigned? But it is for certain written in divers of our Records, that many of thoſe wiſe Aegyptians, the Springs of this Water of Life, have before and ſince Plato, by the ſelf-ſame Water, kept themſelves twice as long as Plato, if I might bring in their Witneſs, or if this whole proof, (which I like full ill) were not counted by the Art of proof unskilful.

Then let this one Example told by ^[157] Cardan, a Man allowed among them, ſerve for all: That one Gallus of late, Charles the Fifth his Phyſician, by this Heaven of ours, beſet with Stars, (as ſome do term it) that is, increaſed with the Spirits of Herbs, by an eaſie feat put into her, preſerved himſelf in luſty ſort, until a hundred and twenty four Years. Neither think that Mixture better than our ſingle Oyl, (though Lully, Rupeſciſſe; Paracelſus, and ſome others allow it ſo) but rather worſe in Reaſon, for too much Heat in a weak and looſe Body; worſe, I mean for Long Life, by his overgreedineſs in eating up too faſt his own and our firſt Moiſture: It may be better, becauſe it is ſtronger againſt Diſeaſes, even as the Leaches judge between a Dunghill and a Garden Herb, for the ſame cauſe. But I think the deviſe not good in either, nor agreeable to the Juſtice of Nature, which more evenly weigheth her Works; nor yet to the kindly skill of HERMES, who, to the great heat of his Medicine, hath a moſt faſt, tough, and laſting Stuff, according as we ſhall ſhew in that which followeth. Now it is time to reſt, we have made the firſt a long dayes Journey.

CHAP. II. Of HEALTH.

AFter a Man hath ended his deſire to Live, he begins to wiſh for Health, without which no Life is ſweet and ſavoury. Then let us bend our Selves that way next, and endevour to ſhew the Means, (beſides the Way of HERMES) how every Man may get and keep his Health; that is, as I partly told you before, the conſent, and equal (I mean, agreeable to Kinde) temper and dulling of the four firſt Beginnings, the Stuff of our Bodies, for if this Knot be broken, and they let looſe towards their former liberty, they wax proud and ſtrong, and fight, as their Nature is, together, and put us to pain, and Lett the Rule of Nature, which they call Diſeaſe.

Then to handle one at once, as we did before, and will do ſtill; To keep our Health, and Body in temper, ſeems no ſuch matter to me as the world would make it, even plainly impoſſible, when I know that all the Ways and Entries to let in Diſeaſes, and diſtemper the ſame, may by ſmall heed be ſtopped and fenced.

We muſt needs draw Breath, and eat Meat, for the cauſes before-alledged; and as this is not all clean and agreeable, ſo Nature hath her Leavings: And again, Labour & Reſt are needful; and perhaps we cannot chuſe but be moved in Minde with Joy, Grief, Fear, Hope, and ſuch like Paſsions, though the Stoicks do deny neceſſity.

By ſo many Wayes and Gates Diſeaſes may enter, if they be not well watched and looked unto, which may be done in Reaſon, and hath been done often, as they aſſure us that have lived long without all Diſeaſes and Sickneſs: As ^[158] Pliny of a Muſician called Xenophilus, to have ſo continued for the ſpace of one hundred and five years together, and ſuch like Stories are to be found enough, if we might ſtay to ſeek them: Some are contented for all but Air and Meat, but theſe they ſay have often ſeeds of Diſeaſes lie hid in them, unable to be fore-ſeen or prevented: and as we finde thoſe Meats that make the fineſt ſhew (as Wine and Sugar, and ſuch enticing Baits) to have hid in them moſt hurtful droſs and dregs in the bottom; ſo the Air, when it ſeems the beſt and lighteſt, yet is ſometime infected and poiſoned with a venomous Breath, ſent and thruſt into it, either from below, or from the Stars of Heaven; and as the cauſe is hid and unknown unto us, ſo the hurt impoſſible to be warded and prevented.

If I liſt to let my Speech run out at large, eſpecially in other Mens grounds; I could finde that Diviſion falſe firſt, (to come to Meat anon) and then, if it were true, yet the cauſe of that Infection not unable to be fore-ſeen and warded: But I am ſo ſorry for the fault above, that I can the better take heed hereafter. Yet, methinks, it is a grief to hear the harmleſs ^[159] and glorious Divine things above, ſo defaced with Slander, and no Man make anſwer for them; Then by your leave a little.

If the Stars have no Light, and ſo no Power but from the Sun, that moſt wholſome and proſperous Creature; then they hurt him moſt wrongfully, and reprove themſelves very rightly. And again, if they be but a piece of the finer part, and firſt Nature, as it were, of the World, (as it was declared above) then they be the wholſomeſt things in the World, ſo far be they from poiſoned ſlander: ^[160] And ſo, let their Lights be never ſo croſly mingled in their Meetings, ^[161] and thereby the ſtate of the Weather ſuddenly changed, and from thence our Bodies troubled, and tumbled into Diſeaſes, becauſe they were not prepared and made ready for it, ^[162] yet the things are good and proſperous, and by knowledge of the Stars, and their Race, we may prepare our ſelves and prevent all: Now for the lower Infection, it is not worth anſwering, when there is ſo much waſte ground in the Work.

Then let us paſs over to that other Branch; May we not ſhun the luring Baits of our Diet, and take ſuch Meat as is moſt temperate and near our Nature? and then dreſs the ſame, after the moſt kindly and wholſome manner, ſeaſoning it well with Labour, Mirth and Sleep? And to be plain, did I not ſhew before, what a Jewel of Health it were, to uſe all raw and temperate Meats? Or, becauſe we be Wiſe and Virtuous, and this Diet perhaps would change our Nature, and bring it down towards the ground, and a Beaſtly kinde; we may by skill dreſs our Meat, if we will, and uſe the Fire, but not as Cooks do, (for I told you the nature of Fire) but like Philoſophers a quite contrary way, taking the beſt, which is now laſt, and leaving that which we now take, which is the worſt: A way, I ſay, to ſtrip off all groſſneſs and foulneſs of Bodies, the onely hurt of themſelves and us, and the Seeds of all Diſeaſes.

I will tell you another way, which you will think ſtrange, and yet you ſhall finde it true; If the Meat be temperate, as I bid you chooſe it, there is no hurt can come thereby, (if you keep meaſure in your ſelves) ſave from the Leavings; Theſe, in ſo clear a Diet, firſt will be very few; But if you would be ruled by my Counſel which Nature taught me, thoſe few ſhould never hurt you. Of all the Leavings in the Body, there are three which the Liver maketh moſt troubleſome unto us, for the reſt are eaſily diſpatched: A light and eaſie, or rather a fiery Scum called Choler: A cold and heavy Mud called Melancholy, and a third is Urine; but thoſe two the worſer. And this fault is not in themſelves, but all by reaſon of the needleſs and hurtful Bowels in our Bodies, (as the Seedſman uſeth to ſow good and bad together) which being of the ſame kinde and quality with thoſe Humours, do hale and pull them ſtill unto them, (as all other parts and things do) for their food and nouriſhment: and ſo by the narrow paſſages to and fro, their greedineſs in pulling and holding, and a hundred ſuch like means, ſubject to great miſchances, have brought in as many miſchiefs; Whereas Nature, the great expeller of her Unlikes and Enemies, if ſhe had her free choice and liberty, would otherwiſe with eaſe, and without hurt, expel thoſe Leavings, eſpecially ſo ſmall a number of the better ſort, in ſo clean a Diet. Nay, ſee the malice of thoſe Parts (thoſe Parts are Milt, Gall and Reins) if there be not ſufficient ſtore of other foul Meat at hand, like a poiſoned and purging Medicine, they uſe to draw good Juyces, and to make food of them.

Wherefore Ariſtotle, the wily Spy of Nature, as if he had been made in this matter, ſhewing the need and uſe of the greater Entrails and Bowels of Wights, ſaith very truly and wiſely, ^[163] The Heart and Liver as the Spring of Life and Food to be needful for all Wights; adding to the hotter ones the Brain to cool, and the Lights to cleanſe the heat; ſtaying there, as if he thought the other three unprofitable: Nay, for one of them, ^[164] in the ſame Book, I ween, telling the ſtories of the Hart and Camel, and giving reaſon why they be both ſo Swift, Healthful, Long-lived, and of ſuch other good properties above the reſt, enfeoffed, voucheth in plain Terms, the want of the fiery and ſcummy Gall, as a great Enemy unto them.

For the Milt, that muddy Bowel, that it may be left out as needleſs, in the Bodies of the better Wights, ^[165] the Medows of Candy, near to Cartina, declare; When by a ſtrange and hidden Virtue, they bereave the Beaſts thereof that graze upon them: Nay, that the Milt is not onely idle, but hurtful withall, Experience even in our ſelves hath taught it, in the Turks light Footmen, I ſay, (I know not by what Example, except it were the want of the ſame in the Camel, making that Beaſt able to travel an hundred miles a day, and ſo without drink fifteen dayes together) being in their Childhood gelt of their Milt, prove thereby the moſt Light, Swift, Sound and Faſting Footmen in the World.

As for the Reins, the Urine▪drawers, as drinkleſs Wights have none at all; ſo ſome Men have but one of them, as if Nature paſſed not to make any: and if we could forbear our Drink, (as thoſe Beaſts do by kinde, and ſome Men by cuſtome) we might the better ſpare them, and avoid many Miſchiefs in our Bodies. Therefore that odde man ^[166] Paracelſus, I know not by what Light, (caſt in, I think, from above) not onely ſeeth theſe faults, but alſo findes wayes to amend them, and to cut off the miſchief of all theſe three noiſom Parts, not with any gelding Craft, but with his Divine kinde of Healing. So that to avoid all Diſeaſes that ſpring of the Leavings, my Counſel is, either with Knife in Childhood, or rather with this Mans gelding Medicines, (you know where to finde them, I need not ſhew you) to put out the ſway and power of thoſe idle Bowels: Or perhaps it ſhould not need, and in a ſtock that uſeth our clean Diet, Nature her ſelf, as ſhe doth in thoſe Medows, would quite raze, and diſpatch them within a few Generations.

But I will go further; Hear a new and unheard-of Opinion, and yet let not your Judgement run, before you ſee good ground of Reaſon. What if we could faſt for ever, and live without all Food? Might not all hurt and danger of Meat be then fore-ſtalled? If other Wights, whoſe Life hangeth upon the ſame hold, by the ſufferance, nay by the command of Nature, do Faſt for ever; there is no Reaſon but the ſame common Nature, will at leaſt, ſuffer it in us. Let us ſee—And to ſtep over the Chameleon, becauſe it is a cold and bloodleſs Wight, what may we ſay to a Bird which is a hot and perfect one? a Bird in the Molucca's, ^[167] Manucodiaca by name, which by reaſon ſhe hath ſo large Wings upon ſo ſmall a Body, (her Wings are as large, almoſt, as the Wings of an Eagle, when her Body is no bigger than a Swallow) is born up by force of Wind, with more eaſe than ^[168] Archyta's Dove, and hovereth and hangeth in the Air continually, taking no other Food (as, alas, how can ſhe?) than there is found? Nay, have you not heard of the little ^[169] Dog in the Weſt-India, which ſingeth ſo ſweetly all the Night long, neither Night nor Day eating any thing? But if there be Examples in our kinde as well, then it is certain, and above controlment.

^[170] Pliny ſaith, there is a Mouthleſs, and ſo a Meatleſs kinde of Men about the head of Ganges, which liveth by the breath of their Noſtrils, except when they take a far Journey they mend their Diet with the ſmell of Flowers: And leſt you might think I lean upon bare Authorities without the ſtay of Reaſon, all the matter reſts upon this Reaſon; I told you before, that our Life lay in the hands (beſides a little Exerciſe) of two like Meats; One for the Soul and Natural Heat, which is within us, and the fineſt and firſt Moiſture in the Body; The other is without, even any Meat of the ſame temper with our Bodies, as near as may be, to uphold the Frame and Bullding of the ſame, which I ſaid to be a fine aiery and fiery Frame.

Then the Air it ſelf, eſpecially when it is evermore (as the wet Sun-beams declare) ſo ſprinkled with ſome fine forreign Fatneſs; ^[171] may ſeem ſufficient food to nouriſh the fine part of our Frame, whereon the temper of Mankinde and his Life touching that point ſtandeth; which is as much as any Meat can do to Life, (for it is not fed by common Food, as I ſaid above) though not enough for ſtrength, becauſe the groſſer, ſounder and tougher parts whereon the ſtrength lieth, ſhall want food in this Diet, and fail, no doubt, greatly; yet Life ſhall hang ſtill, as long as Air and firſt Moiſture hold, in my Opinion.

Or, if we think that too ſpare a Diet, we may mend it, as the Mouthleſs People do, ^[172] with ſmell of Flowers: Or rather, as we know Nature is able to draw Air, and other Food which ſhe deſireth, through the Skin in all places of the Body; ſo if ſhe had Meat applied to the Stomach, ſhe would, no doubt, ſatisfie her ſelf that way moſt finely, without the heap of hurts let in at the broad and common Gates. As we ſee, by Example, for Drink, that all the while we ſit in Water, we ſhall never Thirſt: and for Meat, ^[173] Paracelſus reporteth a Man of his knowledge, that by applying of freſh Sods (a bare Food, God wot) in this ſort faſted, without all hunger, for half a year together.

But if all that would not ſerve the turn, and we muſt needs receive in Meat at the common Gate, yet we may let it paſs no further than the Gate, and make the Stomach in the Mouth (which was the uſe of ſome holy men, ^[174] as he doth witneſs) and ſo provide enough, both for Life and Strength, and a great deal better for our Health than we do, becauſe the cleaner part alone ſhall be received; and moreover, as he ſaith, for the clean diſpatch of that our ordinary trouble and annoyance, which your reverence will not ſuffer me to name (although I might, among Phyſicians) but they know my meaning.

But it ſhall not need to ſeek ſhifts and holes, if we will believe the German, that we may eaſily Faſt all our Life (though it be many Years together) without all kinde of Meat, and ſo cut off all doubts and dangers of Diſeaſes there of ſpringing, for he ſaith in the firſt Book of his high ^[175] Opinions, that, He knew ſome holy Men, that had faſted and lived without all Food, for twenty years ſpace together.

What need I ſay more? If you be both ſo hard of belief, and dull of ſight, as neither Reports of good Authors will ſink into you, nor yet you can ſee the Light of Reaſon ſhining before you; take here a few of ordinary matters, in the life and uſe of Men, and weigh one with another.

Is it not as common in uſe, and indeed as needful to Spit, and to avoid another nameleſs Leaving, and to Drink, but to Sleep eſpecially? If ſome of theſe, nay all may be ſpared, why not our Meat as well? Let us ſee a little, and by Example, becauſe Reaſon is both too long, and too open to cavil.

To leave Drink, ^[176] which many have all their lives left; Antonia ^[177] the Wife of Druſus the Roman never ſpat; No nor the whole Indian Nation: Fernel. ^[178] ſaith, he knew one that kept that nameleſs Matter forty days together: and although this anſwereth not the Queſtion, yet it ſheweth the truth of the former holy Story; for if he, in ſo foul and groſs a Diet as the common Diet is, could ſo long want it; why not thoſe Men for ever, in ſo clean and fine a Diet, almoſt empty and void of all Leavings? for the groſſer ſort, which make up this foul and ſhameleſs one, were left before as you heard, and the finer in that paſſage from the Stomach, through the former Guts were drawn all away, to the Liver, as the like is ever in us, and voided other wayes.

To cloſe up all; Mecaenas, ^[179] Auguſtus his Minion, ſlept not one wink for his three laſt years ſpace together, as Pliny reporteth. And thus we ſee theſe ſtrange things fall out in proof: But how, I cannot ſtand to ſhew; firſt Nature ſuffers them; then Uſe and Cuſtom, another Nature, brings them in, that we may well believe the like in this matter of Meat we have in hand: for as the ^[180] Bear, according to the guiſe of many Beaſts that lurk in Winter, faſteth forty dayes; ſo ^[181] Cardan tells of a Scottiſh young Man in the Popes Court at Rome, that by uſe brought himſelf to Faſt thirty dayes together, which by uſe might have been three Hundred, three Thouſand as well, if he had ordered himſelf thereafter, by ſlow and creeping Cuſtom, and by ſuch Means as I ſet down before.

So we ſee, I ſay, great worldly Wonders prove plain and eaſie Truths in the ſight of Wiſdome; and that by the means aforeſaid (where are moe than one, if this like them not, they may take another) it is poſſible for all Men by Kinde and Cuſtom, to keep their Health for ever: Let us come to the next point, that it is as well to be recovered, if it were loſt; and that all Diſeaſes may be cured: This is a point much harder than the firſt, even ſo beſet and ſtopt with all kindes of Letts and Incumbrances, that a Man can ſcarce tell which way to ſet a Foot forwards.

Firſt appears Aeſculapius, Hippocrates and Plato, the chief among the Grecians, bearing in hand ſundry Diſeaſes of both kindes (both came by deſcent, and gotten by purchaſe) hopeleſs and paſt recovery, and giving over the Men that owe them for troubleſome to themſelves, and to the Common-wealth; Then you may ſee Galen, and his ſoft and fine Company with him, and thoſe with a long train of Caters and Cooks after them, loaden with all kinde of dainty Drugs, ſtand forth and cry, ^[182] They have theſe many Ages, devoured heaps of Books, and took endleſs pains in ſ[•]arching out the Natures of ſingle Medicines, and making Mixtures of the ſame, and yet could hardly cure ſome Agues, and other leſs Diſeaſes: But for the four Stagers, to wit, the Gout, Leproſie, Dropſie, and Falling-ſickneſs, they could never heal them, and have for Oracles ſet them down incurable.

What were beſt to be done in this matter? What ſhall we ſet againſt the weight of ſo many great Mens Authorities? Marry, put them in Ballance, as we have done hitherto, and weigh them with Truth and Reaſon. But where ſhall we finde it, ſay they? As it is every where (as ^[183] Democritus ſaid) drowned in the Deep, ſo in this Matter it is ſcattered all about, and largely ſpred withall; for there be three things, and every one full of under-branches belonging to this Art and way of Healing: The firſt is knowledge of the Diſeaſes: the ſecond is the Remedies againſt them: and the third of the appliance of Remedies; All which ſhould be traverſed in this Diſcourſe. But it ſhall not need, I hope, nay we muſt take heed how we enter into ſo large and long a Race, in ſo ſhort and narrow a compaſs of time appointed: Eſpecially being never run before by any of our worthy Anceſtors, the wiſe Aegyptians, whoſe ſteps we ſtrive to follow; for when they have once hit the Mark they ſhoot at, and gotten the great and general MEDICINE, curing with eaſe all Diſeaſes; they think it ſtraight enough, and an empty and needleſs labour (as it is indeed) to trouble themſelves and their Children with large Rules about innumerable ſigns and cauſes of Infinite Diſeaſes, and about ſuch other ſmall particulars in appliance.

Neither would I have you ſet Paracelſus and his heirs upon me, and ſay they have taken great and goodly pains in this field; you will then force me to ſpeak my Fantaſie. Though this Man, (to let his Scholars go, as too young yet) by great Light of Wit, wherewith he flowed, and by long proling about both with Eyes, Ears and Hands in the Mysteries of Aegypt, ſaw and performed many of their Deep Secrets, yea and found out ſome of his own worthy praiſe, (albeit I think a number feigned;) yet his new Art and Rules of Healing are not good in mine Opinion; for Firſt, againſt the Example of his Anceſtors, from whom he had received all things; and then in ſpight and diſgrace of Galen, for miſ-calling his Country-men, as you have heard; but chiefly carried away with a mad and raging deſire of Fame and Honour; he took in hand, (a Man unfit to do it) to pull down and raſe the old Work of Phyſick, and to ſet up that ſtrange and famous New one: Then ſee how it is performed: He ſets down ſome falſe Rules, ſome waſte and idle, and ſome wanting; and all unconſtant, diſordered and unlearned! Where he doth well (as he doth ſometimes) he doth no more than was done before him, and brings in the ſame things diſguiſed with new, odde, croſs, and unheard-of Names, ſuch as may move Wonder at the firſt, but when they be ſcanned, laughter, ^[184] as Tully ſaith of the Stoicks like device in Philoſophy.

And that I do not ſlander them, for this is no Cauſe, I could eaſily prove, if this place would admit ſuch a Volume. Wherefore, let us follow the true and right Aegyptians, and leave Paracelſe in this ill Matter, or light one, if it were good; and ſpend all our care and thought about that which is all, good Medicines and Remedies againſt Diſeaſes: with which old Wives in the Country, and ſimple Men on our ſide, (I mean, ſimple in reſpect of the Graecian Subtilties about Nothing) have healed moſt, nay even all Diſeaſes: and with which indeed the German (let us give him his due praiſe) hath utterly ſlain the Graecian Phyſick, and herein done much for Mankinde, by deſcrying and diſpatching our cloſe and ſecret Enemy, which under colour of friendſhip, and fighting againſt our Enemies, hath this long time betraid us, and done us much miſchief: which thing one of their beſt Captains and Pillars of their State, Fernel ^[185] by name, after he had been a while in Aegypt, began to ſmell at laſt, and to repent him of all his former pains, (which we know were great) beſtowed in that kinde of Healing, ſaying it to be but Words, and the whole force and weight of this Art, to lean upon the Knowledge of the virtues of Medicines ſecretly hid and couched in the midſt and Oyl of Bodies, to be fetcht out and gotten by skilfull means of Alchimy, even of that Art, I ſay, which is ſo much condemned of his Fellows and Companions. To this Harbour alſo the beſt of his Fellows, before and ſince him have fled, and do daily fly apace, from the toil and trouble of their fruitleſs and barren dead Sea; Then let us ſhift our Sails, and fly as far and further too, I hope, if Tide and Wind and all, which we have at will, fail not.

But firſt let us deſcribe that Haven of Medicine, and ſee what Marks it hath, and how it differs from other Creeks adjoyning, leſt at our Journeys end we miſs with more ſhame and grief, and ſuffer ſhipwreck.

A Medicine is that which kills the force of that which hurts us: and this it doth many wayes, and yet all to one end (which is the End of all doing and working) as I ſaid before) for his Food and Suſtenance; then let us come again and ſort our Speeches. A Medicine heals us, and kills our Enemy, either by dulling or conſuming it: for when it meets with the contrary of even ſtrength (as when ^[186] Oyl and Poiſon, &c. joyn) then in Fight they neither eat up nor deſtroy each other, but both are dulled and weakned, and make one blockiſh thing, which Nature caſteth out for an unlike and unkindly dead thing, which they call a Leaving (or Excrement.) But in caſe it be of more ſtrength and power than our Enemy, then it quite deſtroys, devours and turns him into his own Nature;—And this Conſumer is either like the thing that hurts us; In which ſore, even as every Herb of ſundry qualities draws and feeds upon his own Juyce in a Garden, ſo one ^[187] Poiſon doth cure another, and all purging and drawing things do heal us, and all ^[188] Fernel's hid and divine Properties work by plain reaſon; Or elſe it is unlike and contrary; after which manner, As dry Sticks and Towe, and Vinegar quench wilde Fires, or other fat Fires, before Water whoſe fatneſs feeds it, for the ſtronger contrary quality quelling and eating up the weaker; ſo doth any cold and dry thing, as ^[189] Bole Armin, Terra Lemnia, &c. cure a rotten Poiſon, and ſo are a great number of Cures done; which onely courſe in word the Graecian Phyſick taketh, though not in deed; for we heard even now of two oother wayes of Healing, which they themſelves and other Folk did take unawares; though Paracelſe found out the name, belike, of late, but he ſtrayeth as much as they on that other ſide, when he thinks all Cures thereby performed.

Now when the conſuming Medicines have done their duties, Nature expels them for Poiſon and unlike ſtrange things, according to the Graecian Rules, becauſe all their Medicines were, by their own confeſſions, ſuch. But if they had either Thought of the dulling Nouriſher, which, as I told you, takes the nature of Leaving; or had known our Mens wholſome Medicines, they would have made another reckoning. But let them go, and let us ſet out in time towards the Haven of Health.

If the Art of Healing be nothing elſe but the matching of hurtful things and their ſtronger Enemies, (but equality will ſometimes ſerve the turn) or Likes together, and the world be full of both theſe kindes of Creatures, following the nature of their Parents, the four Beginnings, which are, as we ſee, ſome like, and ſome contrary, one to another; Then ſure our All-healing Art is not impoſſible, and wanteth nought but a Man well skilled in the Nature of things, a Philoſopher by name; for I need not put in a Phyſician alſo, to know that other part, the cauſes of Diſeaſes which muſt be matched, becauſe, as Paracelſe well ſaith in that, he that knoweth the cauſes of Changes and Chances in the great World, may ſoon eſpy them in the little.

But our nought-healing Leaches will ſtep in and ſay, Diſeaſes are ſome ſo great, and in all ſo many, Mans wit ſo weak and ſhallow, and the Medicine ſo hid and drown'd in the deep of Nature, that it is not poſſible to finde them all; or if they were found, to apply them with ſuch diſcretion, as Nature might abide thoſe poiſoned frayes and battels within her: And again, that admit all this untrue, yet there be ſome Diſeaſes ſent from Witch-craft and Sorcery, and other means, which have their Cauſe, and ſo their Cure, without the compaſs of Nature; to let paſs our tickle ſtanding daily and hourly ſo beſet with Deſtinies, that a man can warrant nothing.

I marry, Deſtinies are too deep and bottomleſs, (to return ſtraight ^[190] Homer-like upon them) and therefore it were beſt indeed to let them go, and the applying of the Medicines with them; the rather, becauſe the other, (the former, I mean) is ſo ſlight a matter to a diſcreet and well-ordered Leach, ſuch a one as is pointed out by their old and famous Leader Hippocrates, who, both in this, and all other duties of his Art, hath made ſuch ſpeed, and ſo far paſſed all his Fellows, as none ſince (which is a good time) could ever overtake him, no nor yet come ſo near, as to keep the ſight of him whom they had in chaſe, and followed. Then, for thoſe unſearchable and ſupernatural Cauſes, (as they call them) if they flow from unclean and wicked Spirits, (as ſome think) they are not the Stuff of the thing that hurts us, (though they ſometimes dwell in and poſſeſs the Body) but windy movers, workers and diſturbers of the peace and good order of our Bodies, much like unto thoſe fierce and ſudden changes of Weather, proceeding from the Stars, and working the like effect in Mens Bodies; ſo that ſith the neareſt Cauſe is Natural, let the reſt be what it will, and the Cure be done by Natural Means, as we ſee it ſometimes amongſt us. And therefore ^[191] Paracelſe, who puts the fault in the Faith of the wicked Witch, (a thing as far above Nature) yet holds it curable with a natural Medicine, which they call a Quinteſſence; Although I am not unwitting that ſometimes (his Sickneſs is ſuch) he bids us withſtand it with another as ſtrong a Belief ſet againſt it. But for my part, I cannot reach it with my Conceit, (let deeper Heads think upon it) How thoſe Beliefs and Imaginations, and other parts and powers of the Soul or Minde of Man, can ſo fly out of their own Kingdom, and reign over a forreign Body; when we know the whole Soul and Minde ſo faſt bound in durance, and ſo like to be, until it be the pleaſure of the great Magiſtrate, who hath committed them, to let them looſe at once, and ſet them out at full liberty, let old Wives buz of ^[192] Hermotimus, and ſuch like Tales, what they will.

But if thoſe Diſeaſes ſpring (as ſome of Learning hold, and with Reaſon) from neither of both thoſe two Roots named, but from a foul and venomous Breath, ſent forth from a Poiſoned temper of the Witches Body, through the Windows of hateful Eyes, for Thought ^[193] faſhioneth the Blood and Spirits almoſt at his pleaſure; then all the Cauſes being ordinary, and agreeing to the courſe of Kinde, they may be cured and put to flight by the ſame courſe and means; which Opinion, (bear with the tarrying, it is worth the handling) taketh hold upon this Reaſon, becauſe (as good Authors do witneſs) ſome Beaſts of ranker Venom do bewitch and hurt after the ſame manner: As an old Toad, ^[194] by ſtedfaſt view, not onely amazeth and benums a Weaſel, but alſo kills a young Childe: And by the ſame means the ^[195] Benummer hurts the little Fiſh and takes his prey; but moſt fiercely and miſchievouſly of all Creatures in the World, the two Monſters in kinde, the ^[196] Cockatrice and ^[197] Catoblepas: Again, for that the Eye of a Menſtruous Woman (as they ^[198] all report) doth ſpot the Glaſs which it beholdeth: And moreover becauſe ^[199] Pliny out of Tully, forth of his Books which are loſt belike, and many good Authors ^[200], telleth of many Folk, that through a Poiſoned Prerogative, which a monſtrous mark of a double-ſighted Eye gave unto them, were able to bewitch to death all thoſe upon whom that Eye was angerly and ſurely ſet and faſtned: But chiefly becauſe we ſee them that uſe this wicked Trade, to be by kinde of a muddy and earth-like Temperature and Complexion, brought by Age, (as they be moſt commonly) lone-life, and foul Diet, unto the pitch of Melancholy, that is, unto a cold and moiſt, dry Temperature, which is the moſt poiſoned and venomous Temperature in the world: for certain proof whereof, bring one of them out of that beaſtly Life, unto merry company, and full & dainty Diet, and within twenty days (as hath been found true by Report ^[201] of a good Author) the whole ſtate and order of her Body will be ſo changed, as it ſhall not ſuffer her to bewitch and hurt again.

To come to the next and chiefeſt point: Let us not ſay for ſhame, thoſe Helps and Remedies lie hid in Nature, too far for the Wit of Man to finde, unleſs we will accuſe our own ſloth and dulneſs: for Nature hath brought them forth, and laid them open as well as the Poiſons and hurtful things; or elſe ſhe were very croſs, and ill-willing towards him, for whoſe ſake, it ſeems, ſhe doth all things: Nay further, her good will is ſuch, as ſhe hath not onely laid them open, but given us wayes to come by them, and means of Speech, Hands and Wit alſo, far above all other Wights and Creatures. And yet ſhe hath not left us ſo, but leſt by chance we might go wide and miſs them, to ſhew her Motherly Love and Affection towards us, ſhe hath guided many witleſs Beaſts, even by common ſenſe, unto their ſpeedy help and remedy in their Diſeaſes ^[202], that we by the plainneſs and ſhame of that Example, might be taught and moved to ſeek & find us help in the like Diſeaſes ^[203] As to name a few not unworthy naming; ſhe maketh the Beaſt Hippopotamus ^[204] in time of his fulneſs and fatneſs to go to a Reed, and by rubbing a Vein againſt a Knot, to let himſelf Blood, and to ſtop it again by laying Mud upon it. A ſick Dog, to ſeek an ^[205] Herb and purge himſelf; and the Bear to do the ſame, ^[206] after his long faſt in Winter: She leads the Panther ^[207] when he is poiſoned, to our foul and nameleſs Leaving; and the Tortoife ^[208], after he hath eat a Viper, to Summer-Savoury, and many ſuch like Examples hath Nature laid before us, for our Inſtruction.

By the which, at laſt, wiſe and painful men of Greece (as themſelves report, be they Apollo, or his Son, or whoſoever) and by laying Reaſon and further Proof together, firſt made the Art and Rules of Healing, to know whence Diſeaſes come, and how to Remove them: And then ſeeking all about for Remedies to ſerve each turn, by little and little they matched the moſt part of the leſſer rank, with ſingle Medicines; and for the greater ones, they doubled and coupled a-many of them together, Inſomuch that at laſt (which was in Hippocrates his time) they were able to heal all, ſaving four of the greateſt and deepeſt Diſeaſes, the ^[209] Gout, the Dropſie, the Leproſie, and Falling-ſickneſs. This race they have held on ever ſince, both in Greece and all the World: Thus much, with much ado, they could, and no more, leaving the reſt, with one conſent, uncurable.

But to come to the point; What wrong this was both to Skill and Nature, they do eaſily ſee and laugh at, which know that in this labour, they did not onely overſee and skip the Minerals, the ſtouteſt helps in the whole ſtore-houſe of Kinde, (although they could dig them out well enough to other and worſer uſes;) but alſo, which is all in all, did let HERMES skill of dreſſing Medicines (whereby weak things are made almighty) quite eſcape them.

Wherefore, to make up the Art of Healing, and to make it able to help and cure all Diſeaſes, came in (or rather went before them) the Aegyptians ^[210], Men in great favour with Nature, both for their ſoil and bringing up, ſo notably commended above all Nations, (having for example to move and teach them, even the great Wight of the World, as HERMES ſaith) for Wits to deviſe, and Bodies to put in practiſe: Whereby in ſhort ſpace, they unfolded the Knot, why the Minerals were of greateſt force and power againſt Diſeaſes: And ſoon after (which was a divine Light and inſight) they perceived the huge labour in ſeeking ſuch an infinite ſort of Singles and Mixtures to be vain and empty, and pitiful among Wiſe Men. Becauſe, firſt, ^[211] there is nothing hurtful and a breeder of Diſeaſe, but it hath the help and remedy for the ſame about him; for as the Wings ^[212] and Feet of Cantharides, the Fruit ^[213] of the Root Bezar, the Aſhes of Scorpions, Toads and Vipers, and divers other ſtronger Poiſons, both by Nature and Skill dreſt and prepared, do cure and heal their own and all other Poiſons; Nay, as all ſtronger Likes do cure their Likes, throughout the whole World of Diſeaſes; ^[214] Even ſo, when a Man hath once found out the thing that hurts him, he may, by eaſie skill, mingle and break the temper of the ſame further, that is, make it ſtronger, and able to eat up and conſume it ſelf as eaſily, without any further doubt, toil or labour. But eſpecially, ^[215] becauſe there is no one thing in the World, take what you will, that hath not all the Virtues of Heaven, and of the qualities thereof, within it ſelf; that is not as good as all, and may not ſerve in ſtead of all; and that is not able to cure all Diſeaſes: which thing weighed, and with diſcourſe of Wit and Reaſon fully reached, they went to practiſe, and by the like ſharpneſs of Wit, they found out as ſoon the kindly and ready way to dreſs and make fit thoſe three kindes of Medicines aforeſaid, which contain all the Art of Healing: All the reſt are but waſte Words, and grievous Toil, to tire a world of Wits about a bootleſs Matter.

But eſpecially they reſted in that one the laſt, which is enough alone; and yet not without great fore-caſt to chooſe one of the beſt, or rather the very beſt of all, for their eaſe in dreſſing; though Paracelſe, of late, was not content with this, but ran through the reſt as well to ſpight his Enemy, as I ſaid, and to make himſelf known and famous, againſt the Rule of Wiſdome and Virtue, and the example of all his Anceſtors.

But how hath every thing all the Virtues of Heaven and Earth, that is, all the Curing and Healing power of all things in the World? very well; you muſt remember that I proved above, all the Virtue and Power of Heaven, poured down upon theſe lower Creatures, to be nothing elſe, but One ſelf-ſame Life and Soul, and heavenly Heat in all things: And again, that All Diſeaſes flow from Diſtemper, and as it were from diſcord of the kindly conſent of the Body: Then, that that thing which is endued with ſtore of Life, and with exact and perfect temperateneſs, ſeated upon both a ſubtile and ſtrong Body, (which all things are in the bottom) is able alone, by ſubduing his weaker Enemies, the diſtempered Diſeaſes, by ſtrengthning his fellow Life in our Body, and laſtly by binding together again the Frame that was ſlipt out of Order, to do as much as all the powers and forces of all the Plants, Wights and Minerals in the World; that is, to put to flight all trouble of Diſeaſes, and reſtore the Body to perfect health and quietneſs.

But how is all this done? we huddle up too many great matters together; It were good to mark them out more diſtinctly. When this hot (by the Heat we ſpake of) and ſtrong tempered Medicine ſlips into the Stomach, it ſtayes no long digeſtion, being already throughly digeſted, nor looketh for any ordinary paſſages to be opened unto it, but as ſoon as it is raiſed out of ſleep by his Fellow the Natural Heat, by and by he flies out and ſcowres about, even as faſt as the ^[216] Dolphin after her prey, or as Nature her ſelf, whom Hippocrates ſaith to pierce bounds and all to that purpoſe; that is, to ſeek his like food and ſuſtenance, whereby to preſerve his State and Being, which is the purpoſe of all things in the World, as it was ſaid above.

Now, there is nothing ſo like and near a perfect temperature in the World, as the Aethereal firſt Moiſture of Man. This is beſt and moſt in the Heart, the Root of Life: then thither it hieth, and preyeth upon that part firſt, and that is the Cauſe why it preſently reſtoreth a Man half dead, and as it were pulls him out of the Throat of Death; then it runs to the reſt all about, increaſing by that means the natural Heat and firſt Moiſture of every part of the Body: When this is done, he turns back upon the parts themſelves, and by encountring with them in the ſame ſort, according to his might feeds upon them, and brings them a certain way towards his own Nature, even as far as we will by our uſage ſuffer; for if we take it with meaſure and diſcretion, it will bring our Body to a middle and Mean ſtate, between his own exact temperature, and the diſtemper of Diſeaſes, even a better ſtate than ever it had before. If we uſe it out of meaſure ^[217], it takes us up too high, and too near his own Temperature, and makes us unmeet for the Deeds and Duties of an Earthly Life.

But in the mean while, and in the midſt of this work, we muſt know, that by his exceeding Heat and Subtileneſs, which is gotten by his lofty workmanſhip, and which makes up his Strength above all things, it divides and ſcatters, like Smoke before the Wind, all diſtempered and hurtful things, and if they cannot be reconciled and turned to goodneſs, Nature throws them out as dead and unfruitful Leavings.

But how do we talk ſo much of exact and perfect Temper, when by the verdict of all the Queſt in theſe Caſes, there is no ſuch thing found in Nature, ſave in Heaven, extant? Neither heard you me ſay that it floated aloft, but was ſunk to the bottom of all Nature, notwithſtanding by skill to be ſounded and weighed up: for as Heaven was once a groſs and diſtempered Lump, by the Divine Art of GOD refined and ſundred away round to that place and nature where it ſtandeth; Even ſo, one of our groſs Bodies here below, being a piece of the ſame Lump alſo, and all one with that which Heaven once was, may by the like Art and Cunning be refined, and parted from all his diſtempered groſs and foul droſſineſs, and brought unto an heavenly Nature, and unto the Nature of the beſt and goodlieſt thing in Heaven.

And yet you muſt not take me ſo, as though I would have the Minde and Wit of Man, which is but a Spark of the Divine and great Minde, to be able to reach the excellency of his Work, and to match ſo great perfection; If he do but ſhadow it, and make a Counterfeit, that is, if he reach not ſo far as to make all things, but to mend a few by this his Heaven, all is well; it is as much as can be looked for at the hands of weak Mortality.

Then this Heaven ^[218], nay this Sun of ours, is nought elſe but an Oyl full of heavenly Spirits, and yet in Quality of his Body, juſt, even and temperate, fine and piercing, cloſe and laſting, able as well to rule this little World, as the great Sun is able to govern the great World. But what is he, ſay they, that can ſee the Divine Art and Way whereby GOD made his great and mighty Work? Or if he ſaw it, learn and match it by Imitation? None but he whom GOD hath enlightned, and unſealed his Eyes; then ſhall he eaſily ſpy the Way lying open in all places, and in all kindly changes; he ſhall ſee them paſs and travel, I ſay, ſtill by that courſe which HERMES calls ſoft and witty, that is, kindly ſeparation: And if he be not ſwift and raſh, but will have ſober Patience, his own skill and labour ſhall be but little, and Nature her ſelf very kindly will in her due time perform all, even all that heavenly Workmanſhip; And yet I mean not ſo, but that Art muſt accompany and attend upon Nature, though with no great pains and skill, both forward and backward in this Journey, (ſome know my meaning) untill ſhe come to her wiſhed reſt, and to the top of all perfection.

If you perceive not, call to minde and conſider the way whereby we made our Aether in the former Chapter, and matched our firſt Moiſture, a thing Aethereal, I ſay, and almoſt Temperate: Mark what I ſay, there is a further end in the matter: hold on the ſame Means, whereby you came ſo far, which is the return I ſpeak of, and you may reach it. Then you ſee the way to cure all Diſeaſes by the third way of Aegyptian Healing, which they do, and we may well call the Aegyptian ^[219] Heaven; And yet it is a way far beneath HERMES Medicine, as we ſhall hear hereafter.

But if they will not yield yet to Reaſon, but mutter and blabber out, ſtill Country-like, that this heavenly Medicine of ours is over-high for the reach of Mens ſilly Wits here ſtrewed below upon the ground, for other leſſer and baſer uſes; and that no Man ſince the firſt Man hath ever yet been known to have found and wrought the ſame: I will not ſtand to beat Reaſon into ſuch hard Heads, but go to the other two lower and weaker wayes of Healing, which the Aegyptians alſo found, but uſed not, and called the firſt Mineral Medicines, and the next Mysteries and Secrets, as may appear by Paracelſe. We may fitly call this Second Kinde, becauſe that is too large a Name, (if it be lawful for us, as well as for all learned Men, where a fit Word wants to make a new) we may do well, I ſay, to call it a Cure-it-ſelf, becauſe it is by that way of Healing, whereby every ſelf-ſame thing, further broken, Cures it ſelf; and the inward and hidden thing, as they ſay, the outward and apparent, by that courſe of Kinde, whereby the ſtronger-like eats up in trial, and conſumes the weaker.

If this leave be once granted, we will borrow a little more for the other two likewiſe, becauſe their Names do not yet ſquare and fit our purpoſe; and call that Heaven a Cure-all, for that it doth ſo, and the next a Cure-the-great, becauſe the order of Paracelſians is, alwayes to match the greater and more ſtubborn ſort of Diſeaſes with the ſtout and mighty Minerals, and the reſt with thoſe hidden Cure-themſelves. Or at leaſt, in the lower rank of lighter Diſeaſes, with their Likes onely raw, as the Graecians uſe them, without any curious dreſſing.

Let us ſet forward afreſh towards the Matter; and becauſe the Graecians themſelves are able, if it hit well, to cure the lighter ſort, and to heal all but the four Stagers aforeſaid, we will leave the reſt for them, and ſo let this ſecond kinde of Healing go, called our hidden Cure-themſelves, and bend all our battery againſt theſe four, which they could never ſhake, and ſee how by force of Mineral Medicines, they may be won, and beaten down, and quite razed out of Being.

We ſee the poiſoned Spirits and Breaths of venomous things, with what force and might they come upon our Bodies, things in Nature and Quality ſet againſt them, and how they ſpoil, waſte and conſume them: If you do not ſee by Imagination with your ſelves, nor remember thoſe above-named that killed by ſight; hear one or two that work the ſame by Touch as violently. The ^[220] Hare-fiſh, a moſt cold and dry Creature, (to omit that ſhe makes a Mans Head ake by Sight) if you touch her aloof onely with a Staff, that her venomous Breath may go ſtraight and round together upon you, you die preſently: The Root Baaram in Paleſtine, (as ^[221] Joſephus writes) kills the Man that handleth it, and therefore they uſed to make a Dog pull it up, who thereby was put to death immediately.

To come into the Body, that coſtly Poiſon in ^[222] Nubia, in one Grain weight kills a Man out of hand; yea, ſtay but a quarter of an Hours working, and that one Grain divided will overcome ten Men. I hope you doubt not but theſe mighty Poiſons, if they were like in Nature to the four great Diſeaſes, and by little and little, in a proportion to be born by Nature to be ſet upon them, would be able eaſily, by their great ſtrength, to devour and conſume them, or elſe ſure ſuch heaps of Poiſon could not dwell ſo long within us, but would put out Life in a moment.

Now, what are theſe poiſoned Vapours, but moſt cold and dry Bodies, wrought and broken by natural mingling unto great fineneſs and ſubtileneſs, by this piercing ſwiftly all about, and by thoſe contrary qualities overcoming? Then let us take the ſtouteſt Minerals, ſuch as are called Middle Minerals by our Men, or hard Juyces, by G. Agricola, (to leave the Metals for a better purpoſe) be they Poiſons, as ſome ſay, or what they be, I care not, and after we have by meer working clenſed them, and ſtripped off their clogs and hinderances, broken and raiſed them into a fine ſubſtance, match them with their Likes, the hurtful things in our Bodies; ſhall they not let all the reſt alone, and ſtraightway cleave to their Fellows, as well as a Purging Medicine, and ſo devour and draw them out by little and little? If there be no Likes, I grant they will, ^[223] as well as that, fall upon their Enemies, our good Juyces, and feed upon them.

Then what do you doubt? Is not a Mineral Body far better? and therefore, if it be raiſed to as great a Fineneſs, much ſtronger in Working, than the gentle and looſe temper of a Wight or Plant? Wherefore, theſe our Mineral Medicines, and Cure-the-greats, as we call them, ſhall, in any Reaſon, work more violently upon their Likes, than the natural Poiſons of Wights and Plants do upon their Contraries, both becauſe the Like doth more eaſily yield than the Contrary, and for that the lighter here is ſtronger.

But if you cannot ſee theſe things by Light of Minde, open your Eyes, & caſt them a little way into the School of Alchimy, into the leſſer and lower School, I mean of Germans, and you ſhall ſee the Scholars, eſpecially the Maſter, by ſtripping the Minerals but a few degrees, to work wonders: As to name three or four; By quenching the Loadſtone ^[224] in the Oyl of Iron, his proper food, they make him ten times ſtronger, able to pull out a Nail of a Poſt, and ſuch like: And by this kindly Pattern, they make artificial Drawers, not for Iron onely, but for all other things: ^[225] yea, and ſome ſo mighty, as they will lift up an Ox from the ground, and rent the Arm of a Tree from the Body, as the Maſter himſelf doth witneſs; who reports again, that he ſaw a Fleſhdrawer, that pulled up a hundred weight of Fleſh, and a Mans Eye out of his Head, and Lights up his Throat and choked him.

They make Binders alſo, ^[226] to glew two pieces of Iron as faſt together as the Smith can joyn them: To be ſhort, they make Eaters ^[227] alſo, conſuming Iron, Stones, and any hard thing to nought, in a Moment: And all theſe Wonders, and many moe, they do by certain Reaſon, if I might ſtand about it. In the mean while conſider, if theſe, or any other ſuch like Minerals were raiſed higher, and led to the top of their Fineneſs and Subtileneſs, and matched with their like Companions, or with their Contraries, if you will, thoſe great Diſeaſes in our Bodies, what ſtirs and skirmiſhes they were like to make among them, how eaſily they would hew them, pierce, divide, waſte and conſume them! But you muſt have alwayes ſpecial regard, that the Medicines be not liker our Nature, than the Nature of the thing that hurts us; for then they would firſt fall upon us, and let the Diſeaſes alone; which heed is eaſily taken in Minerals, things very far off our Temper.

What is to be ſaid more in this matter? I think nothing; unleſs through the Countenance of an idle opinion that reigns among them, they dare fly to the laſt, and of all other the moſt ſlender ſhelter, and deny our ability to break and tame, and handle as we liſt, ſuch ſtout and ſtubborn Bodies. What? becauſe you know not how to do it, will you faſhion all Men by your own Mold? Wiſe Men would firſt look into the power and ſtrength of Skill and Nature, and ſee what they can do, and meaſure it thereby, and not by their own weakneſs: Then ſhall you underſtand, that there is nothing in Nature ſo ſtrong and ſtubborn, but it hath his match at leaſt, if not his over-match in Nature, ſuch is the Nature of things: But admit ſomewhat weaker, yet this, if he get the help of Art unto him, ſhall quickly wax and mend in ſtrength, and be able eaſily to overcome that other. Mark how the Dregs of Vinegar (a thing ſprung out from a weak beginning, and it ſelf as weak as Water) is able, if it be but once diſtilled, to make ſtouter things than Minerals, even Metals themſelves (all but Silver and Gold) to yield and melt down, towards his own wateriſh Nature. ^[228] Nay, which is more, the milde dew of Heaven, as they call it, wrought firſt by the Bee, that cunning Beaſt, and then twice or thrice by the Diſtiller, will do the ſame: that you may weigh with your ſelves, what not onely theſe, but other fiercer and ſharper things, (as Salts, &c.) were like to do upon Minerals: And by the way Conſider, if ſuch milde things as Wine and Honey, ſo meanly prepared, are able to ſubdue in that ſort the moſt ſtiff and tough things in the World, what they would, nay, what Minerals in their higheſt degree of dignity would do to the ſtouteſt Diſeaſe that can grow in our Bodies.

But I wear the time in vain, to ſpeak ſo much about ſo ſmall a matter; and yet ſith all are not of like Capacity, I will adde yet one familiar example: When a Chirurgeon goeth about to ſearch the matter ſomewhat deeply, if he thruſt at it with a Butchers Prick, he ſhall do nothing but move laughter; let him take a Thorn, and it will pierce ſomewhat prettily; but to do it throughly, and at his pleaſure, he will uſe (though to the great grief of his Patient) a fine and long Inſtrument of Metal: But a right Chirurgeon (the common ones are but Butchers) ſuch an one as is a Phyſician, nay a Philoſopher alſo, would touch his Tool with a kinde ^[229] of Loadſtone, (ſuch as is to be found) to make it pierce throughout the Body without all Senſe and Feeling.

Even ſo a good Phyſician, ſuch an one as is not often ſeen, if he have to encounter with our greateſt Enemies, thoſe four we ſpake of, would not, I hope, be ſo mad as to thruſt at them with the raw and blunt Herby Medicines, no nor although they be ſharpned by plain Diſtillation; neither would he, I think, for pity, ſting the poor Patient with the Martyrdoms of rude and rank Minerals, unleſs they were made into a fine and clean, and a kinde of temperate quality, which would work mightily to vex and ſpoil his Enemies, but feed and comfort, or at leaſt not offend and hurt his Friend the Patient: This is the Medicine which a good and wiſe Phyſician ought onely to ſeek and uſe; if he cannot finde it, let him uſe the Cure-themſelves: But ſuch a thing as this, I ſay, brought to this equality and fineneſs of frame and temper, (were it at the firſt Wight, Plant or Mineral) was it which our Father and Founder ^[230] HERMES ſaid is like to Heaven, and the Strength of all Strengths, piercing and ſubduing all things.

This is it that warranted his Sons to avow ſtoutly, ^[231] That Art was ſhort, and Life long, and all Diſeaſes curable; when Hippocrates ^[232] the Father of them, was driven by the infirmity and endleſs matter of his weak and feeble Medicines, to cry out in the firſt ſetting forth, that Art was long, and Life was ſhort: And whereas both he and all his Off-ſpring were fain to leave many Diſeaſes helpleſs, to the great ſhame of Art, and plague of Mankinde; Is it any marvel, when as they prick at them, as I ſaid, with a Butchers Prick? Nay, ſee what they do by their practiſe; They be ſo far from all help and comfort to the Patient, in greateſt danger, that they increaſe his Miſeries many wayes, except that great eaſer of all pain, and their common Medicine Death, be quickly adminiſtred. Firſt they make the Patient ſuffer the puniſhment due to their own proud and ſlothful Idleneſs, burthening his weak Stomach, with that labour of looſing and ſundering the fine from the groſs, which they ſhould before have taken in their Glaſſes: And then, by doing the ſame often, they clean tire his feeble Nature, (as it would tire a Horſe) when as by ſtripping off the foul and groſs Stuff, that dulls the working, and retaining the Virtue in a narrow ſtrong body, they might do as much, and without hurt, at one time, as they do now at Twenty: And laſtly, becauſe their Medicines applied are of ſmaller power, and weaker than the things that hurt us, they feed, nouriſh and ſtrengthen the Diſeaſe and Sickneſs.

But for all this, (to cloſe up this Matter) if ſome of this Company and ſide of Leaches have been and are yet ſometimes able to heal all Diſeaſes in our Body, (though with much ado, as you have heard) ſave the four Remedileſs, yea and thoſe as well in their Spring, and before their Ripeneſs, as they themſelves report; Is there any proportion in Geometry (let Galen lay the Meaſures) why the German mighty Medicine, which I call the Cure-the-great, paſſing theſe in power, as much as the Ripeneſs of a Diſeaſe is above the Spring, ſhall not over-match the ripe as well as the green Diſeaſes? Wherefore, if there be no doubt left, but this plainly true, that albeit the Graecians Art is weak and halting in this work of Healing, yet the Aegyptian, or as they now term it, the Paracelſian and Mineral Skill is ſufficient and able to cure all Diſeaſes, then I have paid the whole ſum of my Promiſe, touching the ſecond means and help to BLISSE and HAPPINESSE, and we may go to the third at our pleaſure.

But firſt it were meet, while the time and place very fitly ſerveth, to do a good Deed, (and this is the drift of my Travel) to admoniſh and exhort the Graecian Leaches, whom I like for their Learning, and pity for their Miſ-leading, (although it be grievous, ^[233] I know, for old Scholars, worn in a kinde of Learning, to unlearn all, as it were, and begin again) for their own Credit and Virtue, yea and Profits ſake alſo, if they eſteem the beſt, to leave thoſe gilded Pills and ſugred Baits, and all other crafty Snares, wherewith the World hath been ſo long caught and tormented; and to ſeek this one, heavenly, plain, and (to you that be Learned) eaſie, ready, true and certain way of healing Diſeaſes.

I think before-times they were not greatly to be blamed and accuſed, but of dulneſs and weakneſs in Underſtanding, in not eſpying and ſeeing this Perfection, and ſupplying of all their Wants; But now ſince of late they have been ſo often warned, not with Words onely, but with Examples of Learned Men, Matheolus, Gorraeus, Fernelius, Severinus, Danus, and other ſuch like, which have and do revolt, and fly away from them daily; yea, and by the certain and ſufficient both written and living Witneſs of the Deeds of Paracelſus, it were Impiety to ſtand ſtill. Well, few words will ſerve to Wiſe and Virtuous Phyſicians, ſuch as are of themſelves forward.

But there is another, and (I am afraid) the greater ſort, leſs honeſt, more idle and covetous, full of windy Pride and Words, but empty of all good Learning, with whom gentle warning (no though the Truth her ſelf ſhould come in perſon) would prevail nothing: who care not, it ſeems, to behold half Mankinde to periſh for want of help and ſuccour, rather than they would either blot their Credit, increaſe their Pains, or loſe their Gains, and which not onely ſpeak foully, and write fooliſhly againſt this over-flouriſhing Virtue, but alſo, like the giddy People, where they catch the State, baniſh the Men that hold and poſſeſs it: Whereas, if it were a good Common-wealth, ſaith ^[234] Ariſtotle, the matter would be ſo far from Baniſhment, as they would deem ſuch a Man, as well as the Laws, (for he is himſelf a Law) exempt from all Obedience, and judge him worthy to be followed and obeyed as a perpetual King.

This untowardneſs and crookedneſs in Men, cauſed all our All-healing Anceſtors, from time to time never to abide their Sentence, but (to the great hurt and loſs of Mankinde) to go into willing Baniſhment:—You have eſtabliſhed a kinde of Government among you, (to purſue the ſame Like a little) wherein you rule alone over the weak and ſorry Subjects of Mens Bodies: Then their Health and Safety you ought to ſeek onely, (beſides enough to maintain contented eſtate, which ^[235] Plato allows his Governours) and not profit onely, (that were Tyranny) both for Humanity and Religion ſake; for to omit Religion, which they do lightly omit, if a Leach begin once to make a prey of Men, he is not onely no Man, but a moſt fierce and cruel Beaſt; not ſo fit to be compared and matched any where, if you ſeek all over, as with that miſ-ſhapen Monſter of India, (which Ariſtotle deſcribes and calls ^[236] Mantichora) which being by Kinde, or Cuſtom, (I know not whether) very greedy upon Mans fleſh, is with manifold and wonderful helps furniſhed and armed unto it; firſt with a Face like a Man, and Voice like a Trumpet, two fit things to allure and toll him in; and then, if he fly, with the ſwiftneſs of a Hart to overtake him, and darts like a Porcupine, to wound him afar off, and with the Tail of a Scorpion, as it were a poiſoned ſhaft near hand to ſting him; furthermore, leſt all this might not ſerve, by reaſon of Armours he hath Feet like a Lion, fiercely and ſtoutly to tear him, and three rows of Teeth on each Chap for ſpeed in devouring.

Apply You, and your Apothecaries the reſt of your ſelves in ſecret; for my part, as I am ſorry to ſee evil done, ſo am I as loth to ſpeak evil of it; and ſure, were not the great grief and Envy I do bear, and always did, to ſee deſert trodden down by ſuch unworthineſs, and ſome little hope beſides, to hear of your amendment, and ſo of the return of the Truth and her honours out of baniſhment; you ſhould have found me, as I have been long, and mean to be longer, quite dumb, and Tongueleſs, both in this and all other Matters.

Do not think I ſpeak of Spight, or for hope of gain, or for any ſuch matter; There is no cauſe, God knows, I am no Phyſician, never was, nor ever mean to be; what I am, it makes no matter. Let us go forward.

CHAP. III. Of YOUTH.

ALbeit we live Long and in Health, yet if our Bodies be weak and unwieldy, as it is in Age, it muſt needs lett and clog us much in this happy Race; Wherefore the third help and ſtep to BLISSE, that is, Youth, was not idle, nor out of Order. Then what is Youth? They know beſt that have loſt it; It is the moſt active, fruitful and beautiful ſtate of the Body: Theſe be the Marks and Differences whereby we may know it from all things elſe; I mean Activity, not in deeds of Moving onely, but of Life and Senſe alſo: This is it which makes up the Nature of Youth: The other two Marks are taken in, not as needful helps, either to Youth or BLISSE, and ſuch as may not be ſpared, (eſpecially Beauty) but becauſe they be very notable Marks, as I ſaid, to know Youth by; and that as we heard of true Honour and Pleaſure above, ſo theſe will alſo perforce hang on and follow, though they be unlooked for and unregarded.

Then this is the matter under-hand in this place; This we muſt prove poſſibly to be kept and preſerved unto our lives end; yea, and although it were loſt before, that it may be gotten again and reſtored: And yet, firſt, as our Natural Heat is the cauſe of our Being, ſo the cauſe of our beſt Eſtate and Youth, is the flower and beſt eſtate of it, that is, his chief ſtrength and quickneſs: Then keep or recover this, and all is done.

But we had need be ſure of this, that the flower of Heat, makes us Young and flouriſhing, and ſure by proof and experience, the beſt aſſurance in the World; Let us look all over, and we ſhall finde it ſo.

To begin with Plants, although their life is dark, and they be but lame and unperfect Wights, (for ^[237] Plato gives them ſenſe) yet their flouriſhing and decay, their Youth and Age, (as I may term them) do clearly follow the quickneſs or dulneſs of their in bred heat, cauſed by the two Seaſons of Summer and Winter; as appears in ^[238] India, where for the continual heat and moiſture and Summer of the Country, no Plant feels Age, or fall of the Leaf, (that word is idle in thoſe parts) ſave Fen-greek, becauſe by a ſtrange property beſides the reſt, it hath ſtrange cooling above the reſt, ſtanding in Water firſt, and then ſomewhat deeply from the Sun. Nay, ^[239] amongſt us we ſee thoſe Plants which are Hot and Dry, ſound and hardy, able to withſtand the force of Cold, to keep their leaves in Winter.

Moreover, keep off that ſtarving Cold, and cheriſh the Life within, and you may help and amend Nature, and make any Plant flouriſh and bear in Winter. How is that? But an eaſie matter, ^[240] plant it in a Stove, and cover the Root with Horſe-dung, and the reſt with Chaff, and you ſhall ſee the proof, if not the profit worth your coſt and travel. The ſame is ſeen in Beaſts; But let us leave the middle, that we come not to the end too late.

Then why are Children and old Folk leſs active, fruitful and beautiful than the younger ſort, but for want of heat? for let the Sun the firſt day, as Galen ſaith, or before the Birth, as I ſhewed, be greateſt in ſtore, bulk and quantity, becauſe it waxeth and waneth ſtill with his food, our firſt Moiſtner, and this from thence decayeth daily; yet this quality, ſtrength and activity, which maketh him worthy the name of Heat, is then little, as drowned with over-much forreign and ſtrange wetneſs, (like as we ſee in a green Faggot) and unable to work his will, and ſhew himſelf, either to knit the Sinews for Strength, or concoct the Blood for Seed and Colour, before that forreign moiſture be ſpent and gone, which is not in long time.

Now for old Folks, what is ſo clear as this, that by reaſon of the daily decay of the food of Life, the fainting heat, lets the ſtrong knot of Strength and Luſtineſs ſlack and looſe again, and the good concoction and colour of Blood, which before made Seed and Beauty, to decline and grow to wateriſhneſs? In the ſame caſe are ſick Men and Women for the ſame cauſe; And albeit Women have their Seed, yet it is not hot and quickning Seed, but a dead Stuff, onely fit to receive Life and Faſhion: And admit they be more ^[241] fair and ſmooth than Men, which are hotter, it comes by chance, becauſe the foul Leavings, the blemiſh of Beauty, by the force of manly heat are driven outwards, when the ſlackneſs of the heat of Women ſuffers them to remain within, and turn into Menſtrues, a thing more grievous and noiſom, in truth, than Beauty is delightſome. And thereof ^[242] Ariſtotle very well calls her a Weak Man, which our Tongue more fitly calls a Wombed-man; and he makes the Male in all kindes, to be that which is able to concoct the Blood; and that which is not, the Female.

Then, if it be cleared of all doubt, that the chief ſtrength of heat is the cauſe of the flower of Age and Youth, and nothing elſe in the World; Let us take and ſtick to that matter, and ſee how that may be maintained firſt, and then reſtored.

I will not urge the way of upholding heat in Plants, aboveſaid, nor yet the witneſs of the German, who hath found out means for the ſame, both in Plants and Wights, as he teacheth in his High Opinions; Nor yet make Account of thoſe Examples, which by courſe of Nature & good Order of Life have done well, and drawn near to this matter, as of Lucia ^[243] the Player, who pronounced upon the Stage at Rome an hundred years together; nor of Cornelia, who bare ^[244] Saturnine the Conſul after ſixty two years; nor yet of King Maſs[•]niſſa, who about Ninety got a Childe, and ever t[•]avelled both in Froſt and Snow bare-headed; nor of ſuch other like, notably marked with long continued Life and Luſtineſs; I will come to the point at once.

^[245] Pliny (ſuch an Autbor) reporteth, that the whole Nation of India liveth long free from all Diſeaſes, wellnigh, and grief of Body, not once touched with ache of Head, Teeth or Eyes, nor troubled with ſpitting, all the great Companions (as we ſee) of Age, that we may gather by likely gueſs, when they know not the Companions, the thing it ſelf is unknown to them: But what needs any gueſſing, when the ſame Man ſor certain, and in plain Terms aſſureth, That in that part of India, where the Sun being right over their heads caſteth no ſhadow, the Men are five Cubits and two handfuls high, and live an hundred and thirty years, never waxing Old, and being when they Die, as in their middle Age, and chief Strength and Luſtineſs? what needed more words? If this Report be true, as we may not eaſily doubt of ſuch an Author, then ſure this matter is not impoſſible, as they would have it, but all Men, if they lived in ſuch an Air, and took ſo good a race of Life as I deſcribed, (I muſt ſtill fly to that ſuccour) might preſerve their Youth, and never was Old, until the term and ſtint of Life appointed. Or if this kinde of teaching be now ſomewhat ſtale, and bare with wearing, yet perhaps ſome other means may be found for the matter, in the Storehouſe of Skill and Cunning. Let us ſee, much more briefly than we have done before, becauſe this part is already well-nigh diſpatched; ſo ſtraight is the link of all theſe helps, that one can ſcarce be looſened without the reſt, and all muſt go together.

Then, what means may we finde? what preſerveth this natural and heavenly Heat of ours? the common uſe taketh hot Meats and Drinks, and thinks that theſe preſerveth Heat and Nature; as ſimply, as if a Man ſhould put Lime to the Root of a Tree which he loved; for as this haſtneth the Fruit with Heat, but kills the Stock with Drought, and ſoaking up the lively juyce and moiſture, ſo in them their hot Meats out of kinde, laid to the Root of Life, quicken and ſtir up the Spirits, the fruit of Life, for a ſeaſon; but withall under-hand, drink up and waſte the firſt Moiſture, that is, the whole Stock of Nature: and ſo by ſoftning thus the hardneſs of Age, as if it were ^[246] Iron in the Fire, they make it ſeem for a time Youthful and Lively, yet it is but a vain and empty ſhew and ſhadow; and as Iron when it comes out of the Fire is the harder for it, ſo they make their Age more unwieldy, and draw it on the faſter by that means. And that is the very cauſe, together with Care and Pleaſure, why Princes and Nobles, by drying up their Bodies in that ſort, live not ſo long, for the moſt part, nor in ſo good Health, as other Folk; and depart eſpecially at ſuch times (if the Report be true) as thoſe buſhed Stars called Comets, appear. Becauſe whether it be a ſtedfaſt Star, or an Elemental Flame, (I am not to diſpute ſuch Queſtions here) it is never ſeen but in very fine and dry Weather, which conſumes dry Bodies, and ſends them packing; and beſides, (though it be beſides my purpoſe) turns good humours into ſcum, called Choler, cauſe of Broil and Sedition; and ſo making, as we ſee, ^[247] the Buſh-ſtarr a plain ſign of both theſe matters, but cauſes of neither.

What then preſerveth Heat? Learned Men have brought in certain fine, fat, and aiery Meats, as Butter, Oyl and Honey, and ^[248] commended them for very great helps and means to preſerve Life and Youth, (for both are done by one way, and under one) but eſpecially one of them, that is, Honey, have they lifted up above the reſt, for this the Bee, that little, cold and bloodleſs Beaſt, by reaſon it is both made of, and fed with the ſame, liveth ſo long above that kinde of parted Wights, even ^[249] eight years, as they report; and becauſe Manna that famous Nouriſher unto Man, is nothing elſe but Honey, ^[250] a Dew concocted in Hot Countreys by the heat of Heaven, in ſtead of the Bee; and for ſuch like Cauſes too long to be told in ſo ſhort a race of Speech, as I have throughout appointed. But theſe Men are wide, as well, though not ſo far as the former; for if you remember well, when we ſpake of things that preſerved Life, (which is nothing elſe but Heat) there were found onely two belonging to that uſe, like Meat and Exerciſe; and that (to let paſs Exerciſe) although the finer Breaths of the outward Air, or of Meat, may ſerve to feed the Aethereal Spirit, which carrieth Life, yet our heavenly Heat muſt have finer food, an Aethereal Body, which is ready and at hand no where in Nature, ſave in our firſt Moiſture of our Body.

Then this fat and aiery Meat of theirs, may help to lengthen Life & Youth indeed; but not directly by feeding Life, & maintaining the firſt Moiſture, but by another by-way procuring Health & Soundneſs, (for Sickneſs and Diſeaſe bring Age and Death apace.) And this is becauſe for their great cleanneſs, whereunto they be wrought by Nature and Art together, they neither breed (as other Meats doe many) any droſſy Diſeaſe, nor ſtop the Lives and heats free courſe and paſſage.

Sith then there is nothing in the world within the compaſſe of reach, able to maintain and nouriſh Heat, but it muſt needs faint and wane daily with our firſt Moyſture; How falls it out, ſay you, that thoſe Indians ſo kept their Youth without waxing Old, as we heard out of Pliny? I cannot tell, unleſſe the Sunne, for that great and familiar acquaintance ſake, hath favoured and bleſſed them above all People, and brought down Aether, and given them to nouriſh them; for their Soyle and Meat, becauſe it lyeth right under the Suns walk and travel, ^[251] is not through extreme heat uninhabitable, (as in times paſt ſome fondly ſuppoſed) but of all other the beſt and moſt temperate, by reaſon that extreme Heat of Heaven is moſt equally anſwered, and juſtly tempered with Cold and Moiſture of the Ground proportionable; which thing they knew not, becauſe their Eyes were ſet too high, to ſee the lower cauſe and courſe of Nature moſt plain and certain.

For GOD, when he meant to make our changeable World here below, by a wonderfull fore-ſighted Wiſdome, ſtinted the Sun within the known bounds, the North and South turns, (which they call Tropicks) leſt if he had run round about, he ſhould have worn and waſted it every where alike, and made it ſmooth and even in all places, and ſo all either dry Ground, or a ſtanding Poole, both unfit for the variety of Change, which he meant to ſee play before him. But now he is ſo curbed and reſtrained within thoſe bounds aforeſaid, he can wear the Ground no farther then his force can reach, nor any otherwiſe than as his Force ſerveth: ^[252] So that the Earth muſt needs be moſt worn and loweſt where it lyeth within the compaſſe of his Walk, and ſo riſe by little and little on both ſides without the Turnes, untill it come to the top and higheſt pitch, where it is furtheſt off; that is, under the Pins (which they call Poles) of the World.

Then here, for the Coldneſſe, the Earth is fit to thicken the Ayre and breed Water, and for the bent and falling to ſend it down to the wideſt and loweſt part; where by the great ſtrength of Heat it is drawn upon heaps, and in great plenty; and for this cauſe, and the length of the Night, it cannot ſcatter abroad, and vaniſh away to nought, but thickens apace, and fals again abundantly, raining three or foure times a day; whereby we may judge that this middle girdle where our Indians inhabit, cannot be ſo broyled and unſufferable, (as ſome have avowed) but in all reaſon very milde and temperate, and think, that as the Sun meant to favour all parts as much as may be, ſo chiefly, and above all that (as Reaſon, yea and Neceſſity bound him) with which he is beſt acquainted. And as this is certain (by report of all Authors) in all other things, yea and in Men, touching all other Gifts and Bleſſings, ſo we may gueſſe this one, which we have in hand, was not skipt and left out in ſo large a Charter.

But for all this, and in good ſadneſſe, (we have but argued hitherto) it is not good to ſeek diſpence againſt the Law of Nature; and it were better to diſcredit Pliny the Reporter (though he be never ſo good an Author) than Nature her ſelf the Author of all things. For this Story is ſet againſt the whole courſe and drift of Nature, whoſe Works as they be not woven and made up at once, ſo they decay and wear away by little and little: And therefore admit theſe men of India by ſpeciall Licence from above, doe bear their Age freſh and young a long time, in reſpect of other Nations; yet we muſt in no wiſe think this is for Ever, and untill Death, as Pliny ſaith; for then they ſhould not dye and depart as other Men doe, naturally, which is, when Age creeping on, and changing by little and little, is at laſt made ripe and falling; but rather by ſome ſudden force be taken, and as it were delivered by and by to the hands of I know not what Hang-man amongſt the Deſtinies, to be cut off and put to death by Violence. But what Force can that be? Nay I aſſure you farther, that if the ſtock of Sickneſſe and Diſeaſe were away, as, ſaith he, it is almoſt, they might live for ever; another breach of the never-broken Laws of Kinde.

Wherefore let this Story goe, and us hold this rule of certain, that by reaſon there is no other Food for naturall Heat, open in Kinde but our fitſt Moiſture, which becauſe for want of ſupply, it likewiſe waſteth daily, Youth muſt needs by Nature fail away, and cannot laſt for ever: And yet we muſt alſo (to come to the purpoſe) remember how it was full often above proved, that ſuch a ſupply of due food of Life, were to be made by Skill, and fetched out of the bottome of Naturall things, by the Divine Art of HERMES. Wherefore to avoid the jarre and ill ſound of our often beating upon one thing, our Cureall and Heaven above declared, is it that feeds our hearts, that holdeth and perſerveth Youth; This is it, I ſay, that doth the deed, for many cauſes ſet down before: I will ſend them that cannot come hither along the right way, back again to take all before them.

But there is another thing, Motion, I mean, that helps to bear up the ſtate of Life, and Heat, which I ſcant touched there, and yet it ſhould be handled; becauſe although it be not ſo needfull as the former, yet it cannot in any caſe be wanting: For as a Martiall People, like unto Mars, (as we term it) and Valour it ſelf, loſeth his Glory and Brightneſſe in Peace and Quietneſſe; So this Heat that rules our Body, though he be never ſo ſtrong and luſty, yet he cannot ſo ſoon reſt, as he decayes, and, as it were, ruſts with Idleneſſe: Nay, the Body it ſelf, being (as I ſhewed above) an ayery and fiery temperature, muſt needs have quick Motion, as one of the two Pillars of his Eſtate; And therefore Plata, ^[253] by the Example of the great World; very well adviſeth us ſtill to move both Body and Mind, and that together, if we mean to have them long to continue. And we find his counſell good by daily proof, when we ſee thoſe that move the Memory moſt, as wiſe and learned Men, to hold it longeſt; but becauſe they doe not for the moſt part exerciſe their Body, to loſe that quickly; whereas, quite contrary, the common ſort, by reaſon they move this much and that other little, are a great while in Body luſty, when their Memory is gone as quickly.

How Moving increaſeth Heat, appeareth in all places, firſt in the ſpring of all Heat, the Sun above, which could in no wiſe ſerve to ſtretch ſo far, as to heat half the World at once, if thoſe huge heaps of heavenly Beams and Spirits were ſhut up faſt, as they be in ſtones and metals, and ſuch like cloſe and hard lower lodgings, and not (as we ſee them) moſt free, quick, lively, and ſwiftly ſtirring: ^[254] No more doth any Fire below burn ſo fiercely, as that by a cold blaſt driven up cloſe together, we ſee to move, and ſtir moſt lively.

To paſſe the Lightning, (as the ſwifteſt, ſo the ſtrangeſt fire in the World) and a number more ſuch proofs, (for what ſhould I ſtand ſo long upon ſo plain a matter?) Motion doth not onely increaſe Heat where it is, but beget and purchaſe it of nothing: and not onely that way which every Man ſeeth by rubbing two hard things together, but alſo by grating an hard thing againſt the ſoft and yielding Ayre, which is ſomewhat rare, yet known to the ^[255] Babylonians in time paſt, when they uſed to roaſt Egges by whirling them about in a ſling, in the ſame manner. And ſo thoſe Archers ^[256] that have ſeen the leaden Heads of their Arrows to melt in flying; ſo great a father of Heat is Motion, that we may judge eaſily he is able to keep it, when it is once gotten.

Now, if this be ſufficiently ſhewn and proved, we need beſtow the leſs labour in teaching Men how to move their Heat and Spirits, becauſe every Childe that can go, can do it, and it is enough to exhort them that love themſelves to do it.

Then by theſe two Means of like Heat and Motion, we have our Youth ſtill, that is, our chief Colour, Fruitfulneſs and Activity; Is there any thing elſe? Theſe make up all the being and nature of Youth; except you fear the loſs of his Hang-byes, and appurtenances, which are, Teeth, the ſweetneſs of Breath, the ſmoothneſs of the Skin, and of Hair the colour that is natural. But it is no danger, if you will let me run them over; for if our Heat and Moiſture remain without decay, firſt the Jawbones, wherein the Teeth be mortized, will be full and moiſt, able to gripe and glew, and ſo to hold the ſame from falling: Then as ill Smell comes ^[257] of rawneſs, and want of Heat to concoct it, Wrinkles of Cold, which makes to ſhrink, and gathers that together, which heat ſpreads abroad ſmoothly; and grey Hairs from the ſame cauſe; for when our Natural Heat faints and fails, it withdraws it ſelf from the outmoſt and coldeſt parts ſooneſt, and leaves the Moiſture raw, which, for lack of inward Heat and Salt to keep it, lies open to the force of outward Cold, whence comes all rottenneſs, and from this, a white Coat, and hoarineſs. Therefore we ^[258] ſee why Sickneſs and Sorrow bring grey Hairs ſo faſt, yea ſometimes preſently; As, to paſs by the plainer, you ſhall hear of one ſtrange Example of a ſorrowful young Gentleman of Italy, ^[259] that being faln into the hands of Pirats, and laid wrapt in a Sail ready to be caſt over-board, and within four and twenty hours ſpace releaſed and ſet at liberty, by great Grief and Fear, forcing his Heat to retire to the Heart his Caſtle, made his Head white and aged in that ſpace, and could never get it turn again all his life, which was long after.

And ſo we have this point briefly and eaſily diſpatched, becauſe it was a looſe and eaſie matter: But the next, that is, to recover Young Years ſpent and blown away, ſeems no ſuch thing, nor to be uſed in that Order; for as a new and ſtrong Building, by due and daily reparation is kept ſound a long time, whereas, if for lack of care it be once faln to decay, it cannot without great coſt and time be renewed; even ſo it is of our Body: As it is eaſie if it be taken in time, with heed to preſerve it, ſo if by Negligence the Weather have once beat in, and made it rotten, it ſeems a marvellous work to repair it.

Although, indeed, it be much harder not onely than his fellow, but then all the reſt that went before; yet we will not give it over now, and like an idle Poet, faint in the laſt Act of Life: wherefore let us go forward, and with all our endevour ſtrive to ſhew, that Youth long before loſt, though not eaſily, yet as well may be recovered; as it was before preſerved.

There be ſo many kindes of waxing Young again named in Philoſophy, and given to the nature of Wights, that it were good firſt to ſort them out, to ſay which we mean in this place, leſt our labour fall into their hands that can quickly miſtake. One of theſe wayes is by Name onely, and not in deed, as when the ſoft and bark-skinned Beaſts uſe by courſe of kinde, twice a year, at the Spring and Fall of the Leaf, to caſt off their upper Coat and Skin, they ſay they put off Old Age, and wax Young again; when it is in truth, the putting on of Age rather, and decay of Nature, as appeareth to them that know the Cauſe, that even for very Cold and Drought, ^[260] the two plain Ear-marks of Age, their Skins do looſen and wither away.

There is another kinde as far in extremity that other way, and altogether in deed, which Alomaean calls joyning of ones End to his Beginning, and which he ſaith Man cannot do, and therefore dies: And this is, and ever was the Opinion not of Poets onely, but of Philoſophers, and not of Greece onely, but of all Nations, except our old Aegyptians, ^[261] Men alwayes in all rare Wiſdom excepted: Theſe Men, as I ſaid above, do not onely uſe to mark the ſteps of Kinde, and her moſt ſtrange and unwonted changes, but alſo ſet and venture upon the like by Skill; yea and to paſs further, if any Reaſon will carry them: and ſo at length they come, I know not how, nor whether by gueſs or knowledge, to this Rule and certain Ground, that it was poſſible for any Man, put out by forcible and violent Death, by natural means to Riſe and quicken again, and ſo to be renewed, and as it were by a new Birth reſtored.

But what be their new and marvellous means? which way is this incredible courſe performed? After they ſaw not onely ſome parts of other Wights, (as ^[262] the Tails of Lizards, the ^[263] Eyes of Snakes, and ^[264] Swallows) but alſo the whole Bodies of cold and bloodleſs ones, clean raſed and deſtroyed, naturally to ſpring afreſh, and to be reſtored; As a ^[265] Snake cut in pieces, and rotted in Dung, to quicken, and every piece to prove a whole Snake again, and ſuch like, they began to reach by device and practiſe at ſome further matters, and to ſlay ſome hot and bloody Wights, that ſpring not out of nothing, but are bred by force of Seed and conjunction of Male and Female, and by the like kindly corruption, to raiſe them up again, and renew them, (as ^[266] a Bird burnt alive in a cloſe Glaſs, and ſo rotted, and then incloſed in a ſhell, to hatch it under a Hen, and reſtore the ſame;) And other ſuch ſtrange proofs they ceaſed not to make, until at laſt they durſt be bold to think, that any Wight, even a Man and all, might by the ſame courſe wax young, and be born again ſtill and live for ever.

This is the ſecond way of waxing Young again, and as great an Extreme as that other, and as far from my meaning: Though there be divers Reports and Stories flown abroad, of Men that took the ſame race in themſelves, and others, and found both good and bad ſucceſs, according (as a Man that favours it will think) as the Work was tended by them which were put in truſt. Medea ſped well, ſay they, in proof upon Jaſons father, and made him Young again, as Tully ſaith, recoquendo; But HERMES, and the Poet Virgil, and that Spaniſh Earl failed upon themſelves, as ſome hold, but as others hold, they had good luck, and came to their purpoſe.

What ſhould a Man ſay to this matter? Albeit I do not chuſe this kinde of Renewing, yet I will not condemn it without cauſe, and judge it for kinde impoſſible; for I ſee no Reaſon but that the Story of the Snake may be full eaſily true, becauſe it is bred by it ſelf, and of more unfit Stuff in the ſame manner; And for the reſt, all is one to Nature, if the Stuff and Place be meet and currant, having that her general Seed of begetting, (which I ſaid) was all one in all things, in her boſom ever ready, and thereby making yet (as we heard before) all ſeeded Plants without ſeed, ſomewhere; yea and perfect Wights, both Water and Land ones: And at firſt, when the Stuff and Womb, and her own Heat and all ſerved very fitly, having wrought Man and all, ſo.

But now why is Seed given unto things? Becauſe Nature for want of the former helps (as they could not laſt for ever) is not able, in all places, to work the raw ſtuff of the beginnings ſo far, to ſuch perfection, unleſs ſhe finde both the ſtuff well dreſt, and half made to her hand; and an hot Womb, like an artificial Fornace to help and ſet her forward: Well then, for this our matter, and manner of reſtoring Man, let us call it to the account of Reaſon, and conſider what is that Seed that makes Man, and the place where he is made: What is all the work? Is it any thing elſe, but a part of Man (except his Minde) rotted in a continual, even, gentle, moiſt and wightly Heat? Is it not like, that the whole Body rotted in like manner, and in a Womb agreeable, ſhall ſwim out, at laſt quicken, and ariſe the ſame thing? I cannot tell; I will neither avow nor diſavow the matter; Nature is deep, and wonderful in her Deeds, if they be ſearched and unwound to the bottom: I cannot tell, I ſay, Nature may ſuffer this, but not Religion; And yet it is a dangerous trial, as our Men, and the Poet found it, by ſome Mens ſayings.

They might more ſafely have made a proof upon a piece of themſelves, which we call Seed, ordered by that skilful kinde of Recoction, (which hath been found true ^[267] as ſome Report, and I think it certain) or perhaps more kindly and throughly, but, ſure, more civilly and religiouſly, in the due place appointed: for this is alſo a kinde of renewing of himſelf, and waxing Young again, when his Childe is (as ^[268] Ariſtotle ſaith well) another Himſelf, onely ſevered and ſet apart from himſelf. But neither is this third kinde enough for us; we muſt have the whole and unparted Man reſtored.

Then the fourth Kinde is it I mean, which is indeed a Mean between all the reſt; eſpecially between that empty Word, and dangerous Deed aforeſaid; performing more than the one in the outſide, and leſs within than the other: for this way doth not onely by a better race of refreſhing it with Heat and Moisture, renew the Skin, but the Hair, Nails and Teeth alſo, though theſe by the ſame way of putting off the old ones. But for the inward, chief and needful parts, hewn out of the Seed at firſt, by the Natural Workman, it ſhall neither make nor marre any, onely change and alter, purge and place them all in their former State and Soundneſs, Youth and Luſtineſs.

Then let us ſee how we may be renewed and wax Young again in that order; beginning firſt with thoſe idle and needleſs things (I cannot call them Parts) of the Body, which after we were made up and finiſhed, grew and ſprung out from the Leavings of our Meat and Nouriſhment, the Teeth, Nails and Hair; As for the Skin, it is a part of the Seed, or the Cruſt that overcaſt the thing, when it was fully baked. Then, as theſe keep no certain courſe and order of Kinde in coming, for (to omit Hair, that comes and goes upon every light Occaſion) ſome are born without Nails; ſome with Teeth, when others again have none before they wax old, and ſuch like diſorders; ſo, no doubt, by Skill, they may come and go again, without any hurt, or great change to the Body. ^[269] Pliny tells of one whoſe Teeth came again after he was an hundred years old and upwards: and I know not well whether the Souldiers in ^[270] Germanicus his Hoſt, that by drinking of a Spring by the River Rhyne, had their Teeth ſhaken out and looſe, had them come again, or no: But this is certain, that there be Waters in the World, which by a ſpecial quality, make thoſe Beaſts that drink thereof, caſt their Hair, Horns and Hoofs, and ſo renew them.

What need many more words? This part is eaſie, and of ſmall weight, we may paſs it over: But that an old, withered, crooked, feeble and barren Man, ſhould be taken from the brink of his Grave, as it were, and led back to his former Youth and Luſtineſs, is a thing, ſay they, both in Truth falſe, and in Reaſon incredible; nay, if two ſuch Men were ſet before us, it would ſeem, in ſenſe, ridiculous:—Indeed it will ſeem to ſuch Men, as are either all Senſe, and no Reaſon, or elſe whoſe Wit is all beſtowed upon the ſearch of ſuch Truth, as is not worth the ſearching.

If it had been ſpent about the deep and hidden works of Nature, there would have ſome appeared as great as this is, and ſtaid all Childiſh Wonders; for my part, I am willing enough to ſupply that want, to unfold the greateſt Acts of Kinde, and ſet them before you, but that this Work grows too faſt, and proves bigger than either I wiſt or would, it is planted upon ſo good and fruitful a Ground; yet have one or two of the fitteſt examples, and neareſt, and match them and this together, that you may ſee it, at laſt, fall out no jeſt, and worthy laughter (I am loth to fall into the mouthes of Jeſters) but a ſad and earneſt matter.

Is it not as hard and wonderful a change, think you, to ſee a Woman ſuddenly prove a Man, as to behold an old Man, by little and little wax Young again? Compare;—yes, but you doubt of the Story: ^[271] Pliny is mine Author ſtill, who reports of three ſuch ſundry chances, whereof he himſelf ſaw, (he names the place and party) performed upon her marriage-day. (i) Gardan doubts no whit of the Truth, but ventures at a Reaſon for it, (which becauſe it is both likely to be true, and unſeemly to be told, I will let it go) and voucheth the ſame change ^[272] again, but in another kinde; and yet more ſtrangely than the firſt, and whereof no Man ever durſt or could yield a Reaſon. ^[273] The ſame Man again ſaith, that the cruel Beaſt Hyaena every year changeth her Sex, being by courſe one year Male, another year Female, never ceaſing nor miſſing that ſtrange and marvellous turning. Is not this a much more hard and greater kindly change and alteration than that we ſpake of? Then we grant Nature is able to do this, if ſhe be willing; But it ſeemeth no, becauſe ſhe never doth it; ſhe runneth ſtill, if ſhe be not letted her appointed race: But if there be many dead chances able to lett and hinder this Courſe of Nature, how much more can the Wit of Man (which is a ſpark of that Minde which gave Kinde her Commiſſion) do it? As he doth often (if I might ſtand to ſhew it) both ſtop and lengthen, and turn her courſe another way, and yet ſhe is ever willing and conſenting.

Let us ſee then for this matter in hand, how Skill is able to over-rule Kinde by her own conſent, and make her willing to return, and wax Young again. Firſt let us know, that all Philoſophers ^[274] hold the Life and Soul, and Natural Heat to be alwayes of it ſelf young and luſty, and never old, but to appear ſo by reaſon of the failing parts, her Inſtruments; And that I have often ſhewed it a kinde of Fire, waxing and waning ſtill according to her Meat and Motion: Then here is one good help to the great Work of Renewing: In like ſort the parts of the Body are not marred and loſt, but as they ſay of a Rich Man, that he is decayed, when his Money, the Life of the World, hath left and forſaken him ^[275]; Even ſo, when our Natural Heat, the Life of this little World, is faint and gone, the Body ſhrinks up, and is defaced; But bring again Heat into the parts, and likewiſe Money into the Bankrupts Coffers, and they ſhall be both luſty, and flouriſh again as much as ever they did.

But how may this Heat be brought again? To make few words, even as ſhe is kept and held, by due Meat and Motion; for if ſhe faint, and falleth for want of them onely, then give her them, and ſhe ſhall recover her ſelf again; Meat is the bait that draws her down: Motion comes after, like a Gad-Bee to prick her forward; but the work is performed in this Order: firſt this Meat, which is that fine and Aethereal Oyl often above-deſcribed, by the exceeding piercing ſwiftneſs divides, ſcatters and ſcowres away the groſs and foul Dregs and Leavings, which for want of the Tillage of Heat, had overgrown in our Bodies, and which was caſt like a blockiſh Stay-fiſh in the way, to ſtay the free courſe of the Ship of Life: Theſe flying out of all ſides abundantly, pluck up all the old Leavings of Hair, Nails and Teeth by the roots, and drive them out before them: In the mean while our Medicine makes not onely clear way and paſſage for Life, if ſhe liſt to ſtir and run her wonted race, (which ſome think enough of this matter) but alſo ſcattereth all about her due and deſired Meat and firſt Moiſture to draw her forward.

By which means our Life having gotten both her full ſtrength and livelineſs, and returned like the Sun in Summer into all our quarters, begins to work afreſh as ſhe did at firſt; (for being the ſame upon the ſame, ſhe muſt needs do the ſame) knitting and binding the weak and looſe Joynts and Sinews, watering and concocting all by good digeſtion, and then the idle parts, like leaves, ſhall in this hot Summer ſpring and grow forth afreſh, out of this new and young temper of the Body, and all the whole face and ſhew ſhall be young again and flouriſhing.

This is quickly ſpoken, ſay you; If it were as ſoon done, it were a happy Medicine; Nay that were an Miracle, but I work no Miracles; I onely help, as I ſaid, the willing race of Kinde: wherefore, as a Man is long decaying and wearing away, or rather in making and waxing to his perfection, ſo in mending, no doubt, he cannot return all at once, but muſt creep back by little and little, and ſo be reſtored: or elſe I would have told you at the firſt daſh of that Spring in the Iſle Bovicca, which (as P. ^[276] Martyr doth witneſs) will in few dayes reſtore a Man quite, (having grey hairs and wrinkles) and make him young again. Nay, if I had taken a courſe to delight Women and Children, and to win credit among the common ſort, I could have ſought the Legend, and rifled all the goodly Wonders in the World, and fitted many to my purpoſe. But as I ſerve Nature, and wait upon a wiſer Miſtreſs, yea and in the moſt inward and ſecret place among them, ſo I would by my Will, ſpeak nothing that ſhould not be pleaſing in her ſight, and well-ſounding in the Ears of Wiſdome; wherefore, let theſe few ſuffice for this Matter.

CHAP. IV. Of RICHES.

VVE are now come to that point at laſt, which the Golden World looked for firſt, the way to Riches; becauſe it is indeed the laſt and loweſt part, (being Servants, and ſo to be uſed) and yet very needful, and not to be ſpared in this bleſſed Houſhold; for although we have all the helps of Long Life, Health and Youth that may be, yet if we want the ſervice of Riches, Poverty will beſiege us, and keep us under, and cut off and hinder many goodly Deeds and Works of Wiſdome and Virtue:—But what are Riches? for the World and Philoſophy agree not in this account: No nor this within it ſelf. The World ^[277] reckons ſtore of Gold and Silver to be Riches; Ariſtotle, enough of needful things; the Stoicks, enough of Earth and Air: To begin here; Theſe might be ſtretched and made large enough, but that we know their ſtraitneſs: would they have us live by breath alone, and never eat, according to the guiſe which I ſet out in the Art of Healing? Be it poſſible, as it ſeemeth, yet it is ſomewhat feeble, as I ſhewed there, and ſo ſomewhat halting and unperfect (by lack of Youth and Luſtineſs) for our firſt and perfect Life appointed, beſides the maims and hurts of Poverty, which I right now touched.

Ariſtotle is ſomewhat ſtrait alſo, for ſo the Beaſts are rich as well; If he had put in enough of things needful for good Life, wherefore we were made, he had ſaid much better, yet not all, for ſo ſhould all the bodily means and helps aforeſaid be counted Riches, a great deal too confuſedly. Now much leſs can we rate the Golden-wealth right and true Riches, ^[278] becauſe a Man may die with hunger for all this; as he that ſold a Mouſe for two hundred pence, died himſelf for lack of Food, when the Buyer lived; and ^[279] this was done (to let go feigned Midas) when Hannibal beſieged Caſiline.

Then true Riches are enough of outward things needfull for good Life, that is, for our BLISSE above-ſet: But becauſe that golden and worldly Wealth is a ready and certain way and means to this, (out-barring Violence, which no man can warrant) we will uſe the cauſe for the effect in this place, and ſtrive to ſhew how all Men may get enough of Gold and Silver; and that by weaker means than HERMES Medicine, as the place require[•]h, although by the ſame way concerning the Stuff we work on, that is, by turning baſe Metals into Silver and Gold. This is the hard matter, which turns the edge of worldly Wits; the brightneſs, I ſay, of this glorious thing, dazles the Eyes of the common and blear-ey'd People, becauſe it is, in their account, the beſt and higheſt and moſt happy thing in the World; when in deed and truth, as it is the leaſt and loweſt, and worſt of all the helps unto BLISSE belonging, ſo it is in proof and trial, the leſs hard and troubleſome both to Art and Nature, the moſt ready, and eaſie to be gotten and performed.

And to ſhew this, (we will make no long tarrying) it were good firſt of all to enter into the way and order which Nature below keepeth, in making the Metals under ground. If I thought I might not run into that part of ^[280] Socrates accuſation, for ſearching over-deeply the Under-ground-matters: But I hope I ſhall not, now by the mighty pains of Miners Spades and Mattocks, the way is made ſo plain before me; or elſe ſure, as they be indeed, I would account them over-deep and hard for my Pen to dig in.

Then all under-ground Bodies, which the Arabians call Minerals, are either Stones, or hard ^[281] Juyces (which we name Middle-Minerals) or elſe they be Metals: Theſe, as all other perfect things, have all one Stuff, Earth and Water, and one Workman, the Heat of Heaven, as I ſaid above: for their Womb, becauſe they be but dead things, as they call them, ^[282] the Earth will ſerve. But for that Nature meant to make moſt perfect things in that kinde, which require long time to finiſh them, ſhe choſe a moſt ſure and certain place, ^[283] even the deep and hard Rock it ſelf; not to the end the Earth might hide them as hurtful things, and lean upon them with all her weight, as ^[284] Seneca ſaith very ſeverely, or rather finely (for we know how he hunts after fineneſs) like an Orator, to whom it is granted to lie a little in a Story, that he may bring it in the more prettily, as the ^[285] Orator himſelf confeſſeth.

Then the manner of the work of Minerals is this: firſt the Water piercing downwards, ſoftens and breaks the Rock, taking her courſe ſtill that way where it is ſofteſt, to make the croſs and crooked race, which we ſee, ^[286] of Wombs, called Veins and Pipes of the Minerals: But as the Water runneth (to take the ſtuffe as the next thing in order) it waſheth and ſhaveth off ſmall ^[287] pieces of the Rock, and when it ſtands and gathers together in one place, ^[288] by continuall drayning clenſeth and refineth the ſame, untill the middle heat of the Earth, which is the heat of Heaven, come, and by long boyling makes it thicker, and grow together in one body of many kinds, according to the difference of the ſtuffe and heat, which they call Hard-juices, as I ſaid, or Middle-minerals.

This Workman continuing and holding on his labour, (though Agricola ^[289] ſaith the cold and drought of the Rock now layes hold upon the ſtuffe, and by little and little, at laſt binds it into that hard form of a Metall; Nay, though Aristotle from the beginning gives the work to the ſame cauſe) out of the heart, as it were, and beſt part of them, wringeth out at laſt, a clean, cloſe and heavy, raw, wateriſh and running Body, called Quick-ſilver. Here it ſtandeth in perfection of this Minerall work, except there chance (which chance happens often) by the means of that boyling any contrary hot and dry breath of the ſame kind, to be made withall in the ſame place. Then this meeting with that raw, wateriſh and unſhapen lump, like Rennet with Milk, or Seed with Menſtrue, curdles, thickens, and faſhions it into the ſtanding body of a Metall.

This Minerall breath our ^[290] Men, for his likeneſſe in Quality, (though their Subſtance doe greatly differ) doe uſe to call Brimſtone: Now when this ^[291] ſecond and earthly heat is come into the work, the milde ^[292] heat of Heaven ſets the ſtuffe, which ſtayed before, to work again, and drives it forward, and theſe ^[293] two together, by continuall boyling and mingling, alter and change, clenſe and refine it from degree to degree, untill at laſt, after many yeares labour, it came to the top of perfection in Cleanneſſe, fineneſſe, and Cloſeneſſe, which they call Gold. Theſe degrees, if the Heat be gentle and long-ſuffering (as they ſay) be firſt ^[294] Lead, then Tinne, thirdly Silver, and ſo to Gold: But if it be ſtrong and ſudden, it turnes the weake work out of the way quickly, and burnes it up, and makes nought but Iron, or at leaſt if the Heat be ſomewhat better, Copper.—Yea, and ſometimes the foulneſſe of that e[•]rthly Brimſtone alters the courſe of Nature, in this work. As alſo there is oddes ^[295] of Quick-ſilver: But indeed the cauſe of all the difference is in the working Heat, that maketh and diſpoſeth the beginning, midſt, and end of all thus or thus, according to her ſtrength, and continuance, and which is the main ground to this purpoſe, Quick-ſilver is the Mother of all the Metalls.

Now, when the work is done, it lyeth yet ^[296] as it did all the while, in a thick flowing form, like the form of a molten Metall, and when the owner comes to enjoy it, bringing in the cold breath of the Aire upon it, like unto ^[297] Corall, and other ſoft and growing Seaplants, it freezeth and hardeneth of a ſudden, fit for the turn and uſe of Man, wherefore it was made and ordained. Theſe be the grounds of the moſt and beſt Men, that is, of Men beſt ſeen, and furtheſt travelled in ſuch matters; whereunto Cardane, a man indifferent, and none of us, and yet very learned, agreeth jump as may be.

But leſt theſe dimme and little lights may ſeem to be darkned with the brightneſſe and fame of Ariſtotle and his Scholar Theophraſt, and the late renowned Agricola, holding hard the contrary, and the ſame ſometime ſtifly maintaining, I will as much as in me lyeth, and my narrow bounds will ſuffer, endeavour to lay the Reaſons all down in order, which moved them to think thus, and ſtaied them in the ſame opinion: That Wiſemen at leaſt may weigh one Reaſon with another, and judge which is the weightieſt, and worthy to bear the beſt price, without the vain regard of outward ſhewes and Authorities.

Firſt, that the Minerall ſtuffe ſprung out from thoſe rock-ſhavings aforeſaid, all cunning Miners can tell you, who ſtill by the nature and grit of the ſtone, though there be twenty ſundry ſorts, (as there be ſometimes) in the Rock, are able certainly to ſay this or that Veine followeth. But to paſſe over lightly the lighter matters, and ſuch they grant as well as we: The Quick-ſilver is the neareſt ſtuffe and Menſtrue, or Mother of Metals, that is the thing in great ſtrife and queſtion; when it needed not in mine opinion, if we mark the conſent of all thoſe Men, in all Nations, that put the name upon things (which were not of the unwiſeſt ſo[•]t) flatly to allow his ſaying, when they by calling it in ^[298] Greek, Latine and other Tongues, Quick or liquid ſilver, in ſecret meaning plainly ſay, that if by the force of thoſe two hot Workmen aforeſaid, it were ſtaied and better purged, ^[299] it were nothing elſe but ſilver: for indeed Avicen, and ſome other of the learned ſide, leaving out the middle degrees, hold the very ſame opinion; which I alſo thinke true, if the ſtuffe and heates (as they are in hot Countries) be good and faultleſſe.

But the diſputers will account this kind of Argument unskilfull, and ſoone caſt it off: Then ^[300] remove the cold that at laſt came upon the Metall and hardened it, and it appeares to the eye nothing elſe but ſuch an altered Quick-ſilver: Or, if the witneſſe of ſence be ſometimes falſe and deceitfull, enter into our School, and behold them by a more kindly and gentle way, lead them back to a true Quick-ſilver, both in cold and heat abiding; being a true ^[301] rule in Philoſophy, Every thing to be made of that, whereunto it is looſned and diſſolved.

But if this will not ſerve, paſſe a little further into the border and edge of ſecrets, and you ſhall ſee them by following the ſteps of Kinde underneath (which I marked out before) that is by ſowing the diſſolved ſeedes and breaths of Metalls upon Quick-ſilver, to curdle and bring her into that form of Metall, which they will and wiſh for.

Now for that earthly Brimstone; As Nature to make a perfect Wight, is fain to break her firſt order, and to take the help of an hot Womb, and of another Workman; even ſo, to frame a perfect dead Creature, beſide the help of a certain dead Wombe, ſhe muſt needs uſe the hand of a luſty fellow Workman, both to faſhion and to boyle it to perfection; then, as ^[302] Ariſtotle ſaith, The Sun and Man make a Man, and the reſt have two working and moving cauſes, the Heat of Heaven, and the breath of the Male-ſeed; ſo in this work of Metall, there is not onely the great and ^[303] generall begetting breath of Heaven, but alſo the private and particular ſeed of the Earth their father.

That there lacks a little Earth to ſtay Quick-ſilver, Ariſtotle himſelf ſheweth by a pretty like example; He ^[304] ſaith the Hares blood flameth ſtill when it is cold, whereas others ſtand, becauſe it wants thoſe earthly Streams which others have, to make it grow together, as we may ſee by tryall, ^[305] finding no bloud which hath them with a Strainer taken away, to ſtand and cluſter, but run continually. Even ſo, take away the Earth and Brimſtone of a Metall, (which our Art can doe) and the Water will not ſtand again, but flow for ever: And this is generall, if we mark well, that nothing ſtands and leaves his running, before Earth ruling binds and ſtayes him.

Whoſoever allowes not this way of making Metalls, beſides other fayls and errors, he ſhall never unfold the Nature of Quick-ſilver, as we may ſee by ^[306] Ariſtotle and ^[307] Agricola, ſtrugling and ſtriving againſt the ſtream about it, giving the cauſe of his flowing and flying from the Fire, unto abundance of Ayre in him, for then his lightneſſe and feeding of the Fire, two things far from his nature, would as well as in all ayrie Bodies appear and ſhine forth unto us. But he that ſtands upon our Grounds and Rules laid down before, may eaſily perceive his raw, ^[308] cold and watry condition, to make him fly the Fire his Enemy; and this even proportion in power, and equall rule of Earth and Water in him, to be the cauſe of his running. The firſt is plain; But there is as much Earth in power, as Water in Quick-ſilver, (albeit it ſeems all Water, for a little Earth is as ſtrong as much Water) and no more of this then of that, ſurely mingled and put together, appears, becauſe it is the onely dry Water in the World; her Earth haling one way makes her dry, and her Water another cauſeth her to flow: but this is a certain ſign thereof, that when we find by reaſon all other things, if either Earth or Water ruleth over them, either to ſtand with Cold and harden, or elſe to melt with Fire and Water; yet we ſee plainly this one dry Water called Quick-ſilver, to ſtoop and yeeld to neither. But to our purpoſe.

The Reaſons why the heat of Heaven is the Workman in the Mine, are many; but hear a few, and briefly delivered. If he worketh and mingleth (as I proved above) all perfect mingled Bodies, then what ſhall lett and bar him from this labour alſo? the depth and hardneſſe of the Rock? No, for if thoſe ſubtile Bodies, ^[309] which we call Spirits, are able, in the opinion of all Men, to pierce through ſtone-walls, without breach or ſign of paſſage, how much more ſubtile, and ſtrong, and able to doe it, is this heavenly Soul? But all Men grant the Workmanſhip (w) of living things to flow from the onely cauſe and fountain; Then tell us how it comes to paſſe, that Fiſh (by the witneſſe of good Authors) are ſometimes found in the deep and ſound Earth, where no Water runneth? Nay which way doe very Toads get into certain Rocks in Germany, and Milſtone-Rocks in France, even ſo cloſe that they cannot be ſpyed, before they be ſet in grinding, and break themſelves, as ^[310] George Agricola reporteth.

But, if Mineralls as well as Plants, take Food and Nouriſhment, wax and grow in bigneſſe, all is clear, I hope, and void of doubt; This will I prove hereafter. In the mean time, let us win it again by proof and tryal, the ſtrongeſt Battery that may be. Cold binds and gathers in the ſtuffe of both like and unlike, groſſe and fine together, without any clenſing or ſundering; But Metalls, eſpecially Gold, are very finely and cleanly purged Bodies. Again, if Cold had frozen and packt up Gold together, ^[311] the force of Heat (as we ſee the proof in all things) ſhould cut the bands, and unmask the work again, which is not. To this, what Colour ſprings from Cold but his own wateriſh and earthy colour? That ^[312] if a thing be dyed with other Colours, we know ſtraightway where it had them. Beſides, ^[313] Cold leaves no ſmell behind it; but Heat is the cauſe of all ſmells. Then, to omit the fiery ſmell of ſome ſtones, and ſweet ſavour of others, and the variety of ſent in Juices, how hapned it that Silver found at Mary-berg ſmelt like Violets, as Agricola ^[314] reporteth? That all Men feel the unpleaſant ſcent of Copper, and other baſe metals? But mark the practice of the plain Men when they deviſe to judge of a Mine below, ^[315] they take their aime at no better mark, then if by grating two ſtones of the hill together, they feel a ſmell of Brimſtone, becauſe they take this the Leaving of the Metals in their concoction.

To be ſhort, doe but caſt with your ſelves, ^[316] why there be no Metals but in Rocks and Mountains, unleſſe theſe unload them, and ſhoot them down into the Plain; and then, wherefore chiefly foul Metals in Cold, and fine Silver and Gold, beſides Precious Stones in Hot Countries, and you ſhall finde the cauſe of this to be the ^[317] difference of that purging and refining Heat, and the cloſeneſſe of the Place to keep in that heavenly heat, and barrenneſſe withall, and emptineſſe of Plants to draw it forth and ſpend it.

Some cannot conceive how Heat ſhould cauſe this Matter, when they feel not Heat in the Mine; I will not ſay to ſuch, that this Heat is moſt ^[318] mild and gentle every where, and there eſpecially; but bid them bring up a piece of Minerall earth, and lay it in the open Ayre, and they ſhall feel, if they lay their hand upon it, ^[319] no ſmall, but a burning Heat, by the cold blaſt ſtirred up and raiſed; even as the lurking heat of Lime is ſtirred up with Water.

Wherefore we may ſafely ſet down, ^[320] and build upon it, that all Mineralls are made with Heat, and get thereby their Being and Perfection; Albeit, the outward ſhape and laſt cover (as it were) of the work is put on by Cold.

Now for the ſteps and degrees of Metals, that they all except Iron and Copper (though ſome doe not except them) ariſe from the ſteps and degrees of baking the ſelf ſame thing and ſtuffe of Quick-ſilver, it appears in Lead-mines, where is alwayes, for the moſt part, ſome Gold and Silver found, by report of good Authors. And therefore ^[321] Albert ſaith, that cunning Miners uſe in ſuch caſe, to ſhut up the Mine again for thirty or forty years, to bake the Lead better, and lead it on to perfection, and that thing to have been found true in his time in Sclavonia.

But what doe white and yellow ^[322] Coppers ſometime found in the Ground, ſignifie unto us, but that Nature was travelling by way of Concoction unto the end of Silver and Gold? Again, how comes it to paſſe, that plain Artificers can fetch ^[323] out of every Metall ſome Gold and Silver, and out of theſe ſome baſe Metall, unleſſe Gold and Silver were the Heart and beſt part of the whole Body, and of one ſelf ſame thing with the Metals? Nay ^[324] Paracelſe avoweth that not onely theſe, but Mines of Middle-Minerals, things further off, as you know, are never without ſome Silver or Gold; and therefore he giveth counſel to water them, as it were Plants with their own Mine, and kindly water, aſſuring us that they will grow up to ripeneſs, and in few years prove as rich as any Silver or Gold Mine.

Then we ſee at laſt, the truth of this Metalline Ground unſhaken, and ſtanding ſure for all the Battery of the ſtouteſt Graecians, that ^[325] All Metals have but one Quickſilver, Stuff, Kind, and Nature, being all one ſelf ſame thing, differing by degrees of Cleanneſs, Fineneſs, Cloſeneſs, and Colour; that is, by thoſe Hang-byes, called Accidents, ſprung out from the degrees of Boyling and Concoction: It is now time to go to build upon this Matter, and to ſhew how theſe lower and unclean Metals may be mended, and changed into Silver and Gold, to make the way to attain Riches.

If all Metals are ſo neer and like one another, eſpecially ſome of them (which I ſet down before) wanting nothing but continuance of Cleanſing and Purging by Concoction; then ſure this exchange may ſeem no ſuch hard and impoſſible matter, nor to need perhaps the help of the Divine Art of Hermes, but a Leſſer, and Baſer Skill may ſerve the turn: And as Nature is not Poor and Needy, but full of Store and Change, ſo may Skill, if She will mark and follow the ſteps of Nature, find more wayes then one to one Matter. Then, which is the lower way, and leſſer Skill following Nature? We will fetch it from that way, which we ſaw Nature take even now beneath the Ground: What is that? I will tell you ſhortly.

As Nature in her work below uſed two hot Workmen, ſo will I; and becauſe we cannot tarry her leiſure, and long time ſhe taketh to that purpoſe, we will match and countervail her little Heats with proportions anſwerable and meet for our time, that we may do that in fourty dayes which ſhe doth in as many years. And this proportion is not hard to be found, when we conſider the odds and ſpace that lieth between the Founders Fire and the gentle Heat of Heaven: And again, the difference betwixt ſuch a ſcowring Purger, and that Eater above, conſuming Stones and Iron ſo quickly, and the milde Heat and eaſie Breath that thickned Quick-ſilver. And therefore as the Miners do well in trying and purging, the rude Metals from the outward filth & leavings, beſides a great outward fire, to put to the lump many ^[326] hot and piercing things, to further the work of Boiling; ſo after they have done, and made the Metals clean and handſome, if we mean to cleanſe them further from the inward Filth and Droſſineſs, we muſt take the ſame courſe, but with greater force and skill, even ſo much more, as it is more hard to part away the inward and in-bred uncleanneſs, then the outward and ſtrange ſcurf and foulneſs.

Although I did ſet before divers differences and marks upon the Metals, yet, indeed they are but two to be counted of; and there is no odds between them and Gold, but in Cloſeneſs and Colour; the reſt, as Cleanneſs, Fineneſs, Weightineſs, and Stedfaſtneſs in the Fire, follow all under Cloſeneſs; for a thing is cloſe, ^[327] when much ſtuffe is packt up together in a narrow room, which cannot be unleſs the ſtuffe be clean and fine before; and when ^[328] this is ſo packt up it muſt needs be weighty and ſtedfaſt alſo; heavy for the much ſtuffe, but ſtedfaſt for two cauſes, both for that there is neither ^[329] entrance left for the Fire to pierce and divide the ſtuffe, (and by diviſion all things are ſpoiled) nor yet any groſs or greaſy ſtuffe, the food of Fire remaining—Quick-ſilver, as I ſaid, was clean at firſt, and if it meet with a fine Brimſtone, to ſtay and faſten it, (which is often in hot Countreys) it ſtraitway, (I mean without any middle ſteps) proveth Silver, and then Gold: But if that curdling breath be foul and greaſie, (as it is moſt commonly,) it turns Quick-ſilver into foul Metals firſt, and the work muſt tarry longer leiſure to be made clean and perfect, that is, until ſuch time as that foul Brimſtone be clean purged out, as it is onely in ^[330] Cold.

That Nature doth in due time, and Art by imitation may part and drive away all that filthy Rennet, this is a ſign, becauſe it is no part of the thing; How is that proved? For that it is the Male-ſeed, that begets, makes, and faſhions all, and ^[331] nought begets it ſelf, but is made by a ſtrange and outward Mover, which is like a Carpenter, or other Workman towards the work that he maketh. That this is ſo, it is plain by the Male-ſeed of Wights, ^[332] which is not the wateriſh ſtuffe ſeen with Eyes, (that is but a ſhell given for the ſafe keeping) but an unſeen Hot Breath of their Bodies, whereby alone without the help of that ſhell, many Wightes beget their Mates with Young, as we may read ^[333] in Ariſtotle, and other good ^[334] Authors; but what makes it ſo plain as the barren Eggs which many Birds faſhion fully in themſelves by conceit of Luſt, wanting onely an outward quickning cauſe from the Male.

Then how ſhall we purge out this foul and greaſie Workman to make the work of any Metal cloſe and well-coloured? Nature would have done this in time by concoction without any other help; But we muſt have to ſhorten the time fit for our uſe, two devices; one to breed Cloſeneſs, and the other to bring on good Colour: The firſt is a binding Skill, the next is a dying Cunning; for the firſt, let Nature ſtill be our guide and leader; As ſhe, in all her eaſie changes, uſeth to conſume and raze out the weaker with the ſtronger, like ſo we, if we mean to devour and conſume all the groſs and greaſie ſtuffe of the Metal, that when all is clean and fine, the Fire may draw it up cloſe together, we muſt encounter it with a ſtrong Like: What was that Brimſtone, or any other filth in Quick-ſilver, and of what ſtock think you? Did I not tell you it ſprung out of a confuſed heap of Middle-Minerals, and was a Mineral Breath and Vapour? Then let us take the foul and ſharp MInerals, and in a ſtrong Fire ſet them upon the Metal, ^[335] and they ſhall ſure, by ſearching and lifting round about, quickly draw to them, eat and drink up all the weaker like droſs of the Metal, and leave the reſt which is unlike, clean and untouched: I need not ſtand any more about it; Do we not ſee how ^[336] Sope, a filthy ſtrong thing, in battail and work with a foul and filthy Cloth, takes and eats up the filth as his Food and Like meat, and leaves the Unlike Cloth clean and ſpotleſs? Nay to come neerer, how doth Antimony that fierce and foul Mineral, where he is ſet on work with Gold to cleanſe him, ſearch and run all over the Metal, take and conſume his like meat, and the ſtrange and unclean parts, leaving the reſt as unlike and unmeet for him: To be ſhort, if you mark well, you ſhall find it the plain, ready, and kindly way, not onely in all purgings, but in every natural changing.

Then let this part go by, and ſith now the Metal i[•] as clean, fine, and weighty again as Quick-ſilver, and as cloſe and ſtedfaſt as Silver, or rather more; let us take the next Point in hand, and bring on the Colour of Gold: This ſtandeth upon two Points; It muſt have the fairneſs, and laſtingneſs of Gold: That firſt is an eaſie matter in the proof of common Skill; But here is all the cunning, to die the Metal all over with an everlaſting Colour; To this purpoſe, it had need be able to pierce the Metal, and to abide all Fire: That firſt is not hard again, but how ſhall this be done? Perhaps we need not ſtrive, before we lay the Colour, to make it ſtedfaſt and abiding; but like as Gold will ſo faſt embrace, and hold his flying maker Quick-ſilver, if ſhe be a little cleanſed and made fit to receive him, that no Fire ſhall depart them, ſo the cloſeneſs of this our ſtedfaſt Metal ſhall defend and ſave the Colour. But ſuppoſe it will not, yet if Iron and Copper, nay if the Middle-minerals may be bound and made abiding in the Fire, (as our Men hold and teach) then their ^[337] Colours may be ſtayed and made ſtedfaſt alſo.

What is remaining? If you be not yet content, go to School and learn to faſten and ſtay ^[338] flying Spirits, as they call them. Cardane who denies it poſſible to make an open Metal cloſe and ſtedfaſt, yet allows this matter eaſie; And ſith we are here, and he is ſo ready, let us talk with him a little. I marvel much at him, a Man ſo well learned, (but indeed not skill'd in this Art, the chief of all Learning) that although he had ſpoken well a great while, and allowed all Metals to be made all of one ſtuffe, and to travel by one way of Concoction unto one end, ^[339] Gold, and to differ but by one accident onely, and chance of thoſe degrees of boyling; and thereby yielded that all the fouler Metals may be turned into one another, and Silver likewiſe into Gold, becauſe it is nothing elſe but imperfect Gold, and the worſer part thereof, wanting nought but Colour, which is eaſie, and a little cloſeneſs, which by purging out of the greaſie food of Fire, may be given him; yet for all this, he denies it poſſible to change any of the lower Metals into either Silver or Gold, becauſe of over-ſudden Heat (as I ſaid of Iron and Copper) being burnt they cannot be brought to their old Quick-ſilvery cleanneſs, nor yet be made abiding and ſtedfaſt in the Fire.

This he would never have ſaid, if he had been brought up in our Trade of Learning: He ſhould have ſeen us eaſily lead the Metals back from whence they all came, and then, by means aforeſaid, ſtay them; for, he grants himſelf that all the cauſe of uncloſeneſs, unſteddineſs, and waſting in the Fire, is that our fatty Brimſtone, and that it may be cleanſed out of Silver; Why not out of the reſt alſo? Will they not abide the violence? Not at firſt, but by little and little they will, as Gentle and Wiſe Men know how to uſe them.—There are others alſo as well as he, Erastus and ſuch like, that deny this Art of Changing: if I thought theſe Men needed any labour of reproof, who through ignorance of the points they handle, blunder and ruſh in the dark, croſs and reprove themſelves all about, in ſuch ſort as they ſeem rather to ^[340] move pity to the ſtanders by, than to make a challenge, and to call forth an Adverſary.

Then ſuch Men I will exhort to be better adviſed, by the view of certain plain examples, which I will lay down before them, and thereby wiſh them to ſtay their over-ſwift and fore-running judgments, until they come to the trial and battel it ſelf, in that which ſhall follow.

Lead, as the Workmen know, is one of the greateſt ſpoilers of his fellows the foul Metals in the World: ſave them from the rage of him, upon a ſhell of Aſhes, which they call a Teſt, and he is counted ſafe, ſure, and ſtedfaſt enough againſt all aſſayes. Cardane ^[341] tells of a Man at Millain, which I know not how ſo dreſſed and armed his face and hands, as he could ſuffer to waſh them in molten Lead; Might not then a tougher and hard Metal be more eaſily armed and fenced againſt all force and violence? Nay, you ſhall ſee more Wonders by the skill of Nature eaſily performed. Clear ^[342] Chryſtal ſaves the Cloth that is wrapt about it from the rage of Fire: ſo doth Oyl defend Paper, ^[343] inſomuch that you may ſeethe Fiſh therein, without either burning the Paper, or the Oyl ſoaking through; and all this is becauſe the extreme and deadly feuds do ſave the middle thing by their fighting. Is it then a Wonder if Iron or Copper, be by ſome pretty ſlight, or kindly skill defended from all Fire, and made ſure and ſtedfaſt? To draw neerer unto you; It is very well known, that baſe and unripe Gold, ^[344] as it were a mean between Silver and Gold, wanting Colour and Cloſeneſs, waſting much away in time of proof and trial, may by ſome of the leſſer and lower degrees of binding be refined, and made as good as the beſt Gold in the world. Then, is there any lett in Reaſon, why the reſt, eſpecially Silver, by ſtrong and more forcible means, may not be bound and coloured, and reach perfection?

To conclude, if we may, by tracing the Path of Kinde, which ſhe treadeth daily, turn a Plant or Wight into Stone, and a Mineral into a Metal, and Lead into Tinne, nay Lead into Copper, (as I will prove hereafter) with ſo great exchange and increaſe of Colour and Cloſeneſs; then tell me, why by means fitted in proportion, Lead, or rather Copper may not be turned into Silver; or either of theſe, eſpecially Silver, into Gold.

Therefore, to make up all; Paracelſe ^[345] reporteth for certain, that in Carinthia they commonly turn Copper into Silver, and this into Gold in Hungary: Though he names not the means whereby they made thoſe exchanges, yet we may eaſily judge thoſe wayes of binding and colouring ſet down before, that is, leſſer wayes then HERMES Medicine, and yet ſufficient to ſerve our turn, and to raiſe that Wealth appointed, as we may ſee by gueſſe of their common practiſe, which elſe were empty, vain and fooliſh; as alſo by the light charge of Middle-Minerals, in reſpect of the return and gain of Gold.

And if the praiſe of an Enemy be lightly true and uncorrupt, let us hear what Porta, a denier of the Art of Hermes, confeſſeth upon his own experience; that Quick-ſilver divers wayes may be bound, and coloured, and made perfect Gold and Silver; and one way when it is with Brimſtone burnt and made Cinabar, very gainfully: (which thing Joannes Chryſippus ^[346] alſo found true:) And further that in his due time and place, Mercury by the ſmoke of Brimſtone within one Moneth will be turned into perfect Luna.

I might preſs you with more as good proofs and trials of Men of credit; but here is enough, I ſay, to ſtay your judgment for a while: Let us go forward.

CHAP. V. Of VVISDOME and VIRTUE.

SIth now Long Life, Health, Youth, Riches are diſpatched, and we have gotten ſuch a goodly Quire of Helps, Inſtruments, and Means to Wiſdom and Virtue, that is, to perfect BLISSE and HAPPINESSE; what is wanting but Will and Diligence to bring all Men unto it? unleſs there be ſome, as there be many, ſo lewd and fond by Birth and Nature, having the difference defaced, and being ſo far from their Kind eſtranged unto the kind of Beaſts, that although they lack not thoſe helps and furnitures, no nor Good-Will and Endevour to ſet them forward, yet all will not ſerve to amend them, and bring them to Wit and Goodneſs.

Then let us ſeek the ſalves for theſe two ſores likewiſe, that we may make it, at laſt, a whole and perfect Happineſs: let us, I ſay, bend our ſelves to ſhew the means how all foul and vicious perſons, may be cured and brought to health of Mind, which is Wit and Goodneſs.—No cure can be skilfully performed, without the cauſe be firſt known and removed: The cauſe of Wiſdom and Virtue, and ſo of their contraries, (for one of theſe do bewray another) I opened heretofore when I brought into the Bound and Houſhold of BLISSE, yet two other properties, that is, Clearneſs and Temperateneſs of Bodies.—But, becauſe we have no ſuch grounds and beginnings, ^[347] as the Meaſurers have given and granted, and it behoves, if we mean to build any thing, our ſelves to lay all the foundation; let us take the matter in hand again, that thoſe two are the very cauſes and makers of this health of Mind, that is, of Wiſdom and Virtue, and then teach the way to apply the remedies.

To begin with Wiſdom, (for that Knowledge had ever need to go before Doing,) and therein to let paſs all the idle ſubtilties about the difference between ^[348] Sapience and Prudence, (if I may ſo term it for once and uſe it not) as one of them to be ſeen in general ^[349] and everlaſting, the ot[•]er in particular and changeable things, &c. becauſe they ought evermore (as I ſhewed at firſt) to go together, (even as our Tongue better than either Greek or Latine, hath linked and ſhut them up both in one Word together:) I will take the Common and true bounds of Wiſdom, that is to wit, The Knowledge of Divine and Humane things; thoſe containing all Mindes and Bodies; theſe the Matters and Affairs of private Men, Families, and Common-wealths.—It will be very hard, indeed, to bring a Fool to be able to underſtand all theſe matters: But let us march, we have paſſed greater dangers.

And if in this Diſcourſe of the Minde, (as well as in the former of the Soul, and ſome other) I call in again the beſt Philoſophers, and make them abide the brunt, I hope you will not blame me in a courſe ever blameleſs, and allowed in matters of ſuch weight, both that the Truth might be the better bolted out, and the Man warded againſt the ſhot of Envy.

Therefore letting paſs theſe earthly Judges, as Ariſtoxenus ^[350], Dicaearchus ^[351], Pliny, Galen, &c. who rating the Minde as an earthly thing, do adjudge it to die, and to be clean razed out with the Body; and all other wrong Opinions of the ſame; Mine old Philoſophy, where it is beſt adviſed, holdeth and teacheth, that, ^{[352] [353] [354] [355] [356]} As the ſoul and life of all things is all one of it ſelf, and all the odds ſprings from the divers tempers of Bodies; ſo the Divine and immortal Minde proper unto Man, and Author of Wiſdom and Virtue, to be Wiſe, and alike Wiſe, and one and the ſame in all points in all Men (as God from whom it came, is One and Wiſe) and to differ when it is divided and ſent into ſundry places, according to the Natures of the ſame places. ^{[357] [358] [359] [360] [361]} Even as many Rivers paſſing through many Grounds of ſundry qualities do lightly every one take a ſundry Taint, Smack, and Nature from the Ground, though at firſt they all ſprung and flowed from one Head and Fountain: Or, more fitly, like as there are innumerable kinds of Lights in the World, differing according to the Seats and Houſes that receive them, ^{[362] [363] [364]} when the light of the Sun, from whence they all receive light, is of it ſelf all one, and the ſame in all places.

Then as the Sun (think not much if I be ſtill driven to Likes, becauſe it is the lightſomeſt way of delivering Divine things, wherein you ſee me plunged; for as the Eye can ^[365] behold all things but her ſelf and the Sun, and thoſe it cannot ſee, but in another thing fit to repreſent the figure; ^[366] even ſo the Mind, cannot underſtand her ſelf, nor yet other Divine Matters, ſo well as in a like and compariſon:) As the Sun, I ſay, of himſelf ever ſheweth, and ſeeth all things, if his Beames be not ſtopt with a Cloud, or ſome other thick imbarment; even ſo, the Mind alone, and before ſhe fall into the Cloud of the Body, is ever buſie, and likewiſe knoweth all things, as unto ſo Divine a thing belongeth: But now ^[367] ſhe is intangled and ſo darkned in this manner, ſhe is ſometimes idle, and never ſeeth all things, yea, nought of all without the leave and help of the Body.

This courſe therefore ſhe now taketh; Sith ſhe may not her ſelf ſtep forth and range abroad, to ſee things, ſhe craves and takes the help of the Soul and its ſervants, which they call Beames or Spirits: firſt ſhe uſeth the outward Spirits that ſit in the Edge and Border of the Body, for Meſſengers to receive, (by means of their Inſtruments and Parts where they lodge) and bring in Tidings, that is, Shewes and Shapes of things: And then the inward Beams ſitting in the Brain, take the ſame Tidings, and repreſent them, as it were, in a Glaſs before her, that ſhe may caſt her light, (which they call the ſuffering or receiving Mind) upon them and ſee them.

To skip over the known Five;—Thoſe inward Wits and Spirits which we have (not unfitly) compared to a Glaſs, are divided into ſundry and ſeveral Seats and Offices, firſt, ^[368] one ſort called Thought, inhabiting the fore part of the Brain, takes hold, and repreſents the ſhapes, let in at the Windowes of the five outward Senſes: Then another Crew which we call Remembrance, keeping the hinder part of the Head, receiveth ſtill theſe ſhapes in great plenty, and layeth them up as it were in a Store-houſe, until firſt, the third company of the Soules Spirits, called Common ſenſe, and ſitting in the middle of the Brain (as becomes a Judge) calleth for them to examine them and determine of them (though this lower Judge heareth preſent matters in Thought alſo) And then at laſt the great and chief Juſtice, called Underſtanding, by laying the things together, and gathering one of another, judgeth of all.

But which is the Seat of the Chief Judge? That is a Queſtion among the Learned: when I take it to be no Queſtion if they all grant that the Soul, by the Pattern of her Sire the ^[369] Sun in the great World, dwelleth in the Heart, the ^[370] middle of the Body, that by caſting her Beames all about, and equally to all parts, ſhe might give Light and Life equally to all, as equidiſtant from all: And in the midſt of the Heart, as the onely immoveable, and thereby to move others the onely fit part of the Body; for then ſure the Minde, being the inward Kernel, as Plato ſaith, ^[371] of the other two, the Soul and the Spirit, muſt needs reſt and be rooted there alſo.

Seeing then the Minde ſeeth and knoweth nothing but by means of the Soul and his inward Wits and Spirits; nor theſe, but by the help of the outward ones, called the five Wits or Meſſengers; nor neither of both, without the parts where they lodge and reſt: then, ^[372] even as the parts of the Body ſtand affected and diſpoſed, ſo doth the Minde underſtand. Let us go down more particularly to the matter, and ſee what Condition or Diſpoſition of the Body helps or hinders this Work of Underſtanding.

After that the Five Wits and Meſſengers have thus received and delivered up the Tidings to the threefold Glaſſe within the Brain, this by ſtirring and running up and down preſents and muſters them before the Minde, and ſhe by caſting her light and view, judgeth and determineth. That we may eaſily gather two things needful to Wiſdom and good Underſtanding; firſt, ſuch a Glaſſe, or ſuch inward Spirits, as are able to receive and hold many ſhapes imprinted, that is, very clear, clean, and ſmooth Spirits, by the example of an Eye, that kindly Glaſs, or of an artificial one, which will eaſily take and ſhew, in that caſe, every little ſpot, ſhape, and faſhion ſet upon them; whereas, when they be dark, foul, and uneven, they can take nothing, nor yet repreſent them if they had them. Secondly, theſe Spirits had need be quick and lively, that is, hot, to be able by their ſwift running to and fro, to repreſent and ſhew them all apace, and eaſily, for the Minde doth all by matching and laying things together.

That Heat is the cauſe of Quickneſs and ſtirring of the Spirits, appears in Sickneſs, Age, and ſound Sleep, eſpecially in Age and Sickneſs, more cleerly than needs any light of teaching. But how in Sleep? when the heat of the Spirits ſerving Wit, is either loaden with the clogging Fumes and Breaths of the Stomach, or ſpent either with Labour, or with Sweat, and ſtill beholding (for Reſt abates Heat, as I ever ſaid) or elſe lent for a time unto his fellow-ſervants, the Spirits of Life for digeſtion ſake, then the Spirits of the Brain be ſtill and quiet, and outward and inward Senſes, Wit, and Ʋnderſtanding all ceaſe at once: But if the Meat (to omit the expence of Heat) was neither much, nor of an heavy and clogging kind, and ſo neither breathing out loading ſtuffe, nor needing forraign help to digeſt it, then our perceiving Spirits begin to take their own and Natural Heat again unto them, and to move a little before the Minde, whereby ſhe beholdeth ſome old ſhapes and ſhewes of things in their paſſing, which is called Dreaming. But in caſe they recover all that Heat, they beſtir themſelves apace, running to the out-ſide of the Body, and bringing back new tidings to the Minde, which when ſhe perceiveth, it is called Waking.

Then the cauſe of Wiſdom is clear at laſt, as we ſee, to wit, a clean and ſtirring Glaſs; and of Folly, when the ſame is foul and ſtill. If the Glaſſe be fouled all over it cauſeth natural or willing folly, as in Fools, Children, and Drunkards: but if it be but here and there beſmeared and drawn, as it were, with dark ſtrokes and lines of foul humors, the ſhapes appear in the Minde even as the forms in a broken Glaſſe appear to the Eye, by halfs and confuſedly, and it maketh Madneſs.

But how came the Spirits of this inward Glaſs ſo foul and ſlow, when they are of themſelves (as becometh the Beams of an Heavenly Soul) both very clean, clear, quick, and lively? (But we need ſay no more but clear and foul alone, when theſe two qualities make or mar the whole work of perceiving; for if the Spirits be clear, it is a ſign they are in their own Nature, and ſo hot and quick withal; but if they be foul, it is a token their whole condition and property of Kinde is loſt and gone, and ſo, that ſtilneſs is come upon them alſo.) Neither is that aethereal thing, which is called by the name of a Spirit, that carrieth the Soul and all his Beams down into the Body, and broketh (as I ſaid ^[373] above) between them, foul or ſtill of it ſelf; (for Spirits are not, as ſome Leaches think, made of, but fed with the breaths of our Meat) but very fine, cleer and lively, as all Men grant of Aether. How then? Muſt it not needs follow, that all the cauſe of fail and want in this caſe ſpringeth from the Body, and from that part eſpecially where the Wits inhabit? If the naked Reaſon, brought in above, will not ſerve to content this matter, let us leade him forth clad with proof of Eye-ſight and Experiences, the plaineſt, greateſt, moſt filling and ſatisfying Reaſon in the World.

If Man alone doth paſſe all other Wights in Wit, for his Aiery and Fiery temper above them, as we heard before; then if one Man goeth before another in Wit, it muſt needs follow from the ſame cauſe: Now, as Air and Fire are cleer and quick, when Earth and Water are foul and ſlow, ſo are the Wights where they bear the ſway, affected both in Wit and Body, as appears in difference between the Hart and the Toad, and all other wholſom and noiſom Wights. To go further, ^[374] why are the Men ſo groſs and rude, under the two Pins of the World, in the frozen Countreys, and ſo Civil and Wiſe in Hot; ^[375] as Aristotle well noteth, but for that the outward Heat cleanſeth, as it is a cleanſer, and drieth, and ſo cleareth the Bodies? whereas Cold on the other ſide, binds and thickens, and ſo likewiſe by ſtopping the flying out of the groſs, foul, and wateriſh humors and leavings, makes all, not onely dark and cloudy, but hot and moiſt alſo, as it were drunken, by boiling together, as (e) Ariſtotle termeth it.

But methinks (I muſt favour them a little becauſe they are our Neighbours) he might have done better to have reſembled thoſe broiled People to Old Men otherwhere, and the Aged Men in frozen Countreyes to the Youth in hot Soyles, becauſe the odds between the Wiſdom of Age and Youth flows from the ſame cauſe of Drought and Moiſture, that is, Clearneſs, and Foulneſs of the Bodies: And therefore ^[376] Plato was not ill adviſed when he ſaid, that at ſuch time as the Eye of the Body failed, the Eye of the Underſtanding began to ſee ſharply; becauſe when this wateriſh Inſtrument drieth up, with the reſt of the Body, though it puts out the ſight of Senſe, yet it is a Token that the light of Wit increaſeth, for Drought as I ſaid, ^[377] breeds Clearneſſe, if it be not mixt with coldneſs, for then it brings in Earthlineſs, the moſt foul and ſluggiſh Element of all: And therefore thoſe that are very old and cold, are very doting, and childiſh again: But if that Drought be ſeaſoned with Heat (the more the better) they make the Man very wiſe, and full of Underſtanding, as it hath been alwayes obſerved: Caeſar is deſcribed ſo; but more ſtrangely before him ^[378] Alexander, whoſe Body, by his great Heat and Drought, was not onely moſt ſweet in his life-time, but alſo able, lying dead above the Ground, in a hot Soil and Seaſon, without any balming, alone to keep it ſelf freſh and ſweet, without all taint and corruption many dayes together. But I am too long: Therefore Prophets are ſaid to be wiſer than Men, and the Spirits wiſer then they, and the Stars ^[379] moſt wiſe of all, for the odds and degrees in the Heat, Droughth, and Clearneſs of the Bodies.

Now when we know the cauſe of this Hurt and Diſeaſe, let us upply the Medicine; let us clear the Ideots body. In many kindes of fooliſhneſs, as in Childhood, Drunkenneſs, Sleep, and Doting Diſeaſes, Nature her ſelf is this Salve, to diſperſe in her due time and ſeaſon, and ſcour out the foul and cloggy, cold and groſs humors, which overwhelmed the Spirits, and made them unclean, and quiet: or at leaſt, in the ranker ſort of them, as in Doting Diſeaſes, ſhe may be holpen eaſily and enabled by little skill to do it: that we may judge, if great, and ſtrong, and mighty means of Art chanced once to joyn with Nature, the rankeſt of all, and deepeſt rooted, that is, Natural folly it ſelf, may be rooted out and diſpatched.

But you may reply, as ^[380] ſome do, that the reſt, which ſprung out from outward, light, and hang-by cauſes, may be cured; when this being ſo rooted in the Nature and firſt mixture of the Seed, (a mixture as ill as a Beaſtly mixture) can never be mended, unleſſe we grant that a Beaſt may be holpen alſo, and put on Manly Nature.—I had need ſend you back to the degrees of Kinde, allotted and bounded out above, by the Counſel of Philoſophers, whereby you may ſee, if you conſider well, that a Beaſt ſtanding in a lower kind of mixture, can in no caſe be bettered and made a Man, unleſs his temper be marred firſt, and made anew, and ſo his Life and Being put out and razed: when as a fooliſh Man hath no ſuch cauſe and reaſon, being both for his Divine Minde, (though it be eclipſed by the ſhadow of an earthly Body) in reſpect of his temper a degree above a Beaſt, and in the ſtate and condition of Mankinde, fire abounding in him, as his ſhape declares, as well as in other Men, though not ſo much, and in the ſame point and meaſure. And what is the cauſe? Not becauſe Nature meant it ſo, but by reaſon ſhe was lett and hindered by ſome croſs thing laid in her way, within the ſtuffe, whereby ſhe was driven to ſtray, and miſſe, and come ſhort of her purpoſe: like as the Mole ^[381] Aristotle ſaith, for all her blindneſs, is in the ſame kind with all other hot and bloody perfect Wights, which ſhould have all their Wits and Senſes; becauſe having all the parts of an Eye whole and perfect, it is a ſign that Nature meant to have gone forward, and was lett with the bar of a groſſe and thick Skin.

Now then we ſee the failes and errours of Kinde by Skill daily corrected: yea and ſome hold opinion that the blemiſh in the Mole, may be waſhed out and mended alſo; that we may hold it poſſible to do the like in this fault of Folly. Nay we may think it more eaſie than ſome of them, becauſe there is no ſeveral degree and whole kinde, as if Nature had run this race of purpoſe, which ſeemeth ſo in that work of the Mole; but ſome odd and rare Examples, and as it were, Monſters in kind; or, more fitly, Diſeaſes left by Nature, Deſcent, and Inheritance, ſprung out from ſome ill temper of the ſeed of the Parents.

But how may this Diſeaſe be cured? All things in kind by the courſe of Kind, have both their higheſt and deepeſt pitch and end, and, as it were, their South and North turns, from whence they ſtill return and go back again, to avoid Infinity. So theſe natural and left Diſeaſes have their Race, which they run and ſpend by little and little; And when it is all run, and all the ſtock of corruption ſpent, (which is within nine or ten Off-ſprings) then they mend, and return to health again: ſuch is the Race of Wiſdom alſo, and of all health of Body, (for the health of the Mind is incloſed within that other,) as we ſee by the Children which Wiſe men beget, and ſo forth; the caſe is plain and eaſie.

Then we ſee in this Matter how Nature inclines, and is ready to help her ſelf: and if Art would lend his hand, we may think the cure would be much more ſpeedy, and many parts of the time cut off and abated. And as we find in ſores and other lighter inward hurts, this done by ſlight means of ſlender Skill; ſo we may deem that by more mighty means, more great and mighty deeds may be performed.—But what do I fetch about the Matter, when it is above, and as I think ſufficiently proved, that all left Leproſies, and other Natural Diſeaſes of the Body, by thoſe Heavenly and Mineral Medicines (which I call the Cure-alls, and Cure-the-greats) may be quite cleanſed and driven away; and this is among the number of Left and Natural Diſeaſes, all ſprung out from an ill temper of the ſeeds of Parents: And to omit the reſt; if the Leproſie, flowing from the foulneſs of the Blood of all the Body, may be cured; much more this, which proceeds from the ill frame of one part onely, that is, from a muddy Brain: Or, if that Diſeaſe may be ſaid to come from one part alone, that is, the Liver, becauſe it is the maker of all Blood, yet that one is a moſt dangerous part if it be ill-affected, becauſe by need of Nature it ſends to all places, and ſo reacheth through all, and ſtriketh all by contagion: whereas the Brain, as other more, keep themſelves within their bounds, and ſtretch no further.

But let us go further: If a good and fine Temper, through ill Diet, and paſſions of the Soul, hath often fallen from a good Wit, to a kind of Madneſs, ſcarce to be deſcried from the ſtate of an Ideot: then ſure through the contrary cauſe, a foul frame may be cleared and riſe to Wiſdom, by as good reaſon, as the Art of Reaſon hath any, eſpecially if thoſe contrary Paſsions and Diet be holpen and ſet forward by meet Medicines, which the Graecians know and teach, and wherewith they make great changes in Mens Bodies; But without all doubt and queſtion, if that our moſt fine, clear, and hot Aegyptian Cure-all came in place to help the matter: for, if the mightier Enemy ſhall in fight overcome the weaker (as you all grant, and thereon ſtands your Phyſick) then ſhall this paſſing fineneſs and clearneſs, when it ariſeth in the Body, like the Sun in the Morning, ſcatter and put to flight all Miſts and Darkneſs, clearing and ſcouring mightily by his matchleſs heat, ſtrength, and ſwiftneſs, every part of the Body.

Neither ſhall you ſay, Life will not ſuffer ſuch violent and forcible dealing, when as Life it ſelf ſhall do it; for what is that which made and mingled at firſt the fooliſh Body, but a Beam of Heavenly-Fire carried on a Couch of Aether? And what is this our Heavenly Medicine but the ſame? as is above ſhewn at large; Then let us put ſame to ſame, ſtrength to ſtrength, and if one, before, was too weak to break, as it would, and mingle the fond Body finely; now both together, one helping another, and ſtill with freſh ſupply renewing the Battel, ſhall be, I think, able to overcome the work, and at laſt to bring it to the wiſhed end, paſs, and perfection.

If you fly to the laſt Hold and Shift, and ſay the time is now paſt, and occaſion of Place and Stuffe now loſt, and ſlipt away, being too hard for Nature, upon ſo hard a Stuffe and Place to work ſuch exchanges; If you look to her ordinary race in all things, you ſhall ſee that ſhe is able, and doth daily rule, ſquare, and frame very groſs and unmeet Stuffe in moſt unfit Places, to our thinking, yea, much more then theſe in this Work: and not onely the thick and ſturdy ſtuffe of Minerals, cleanſing the Rocks, (yet in unſeen places) down to the bowels of the Ground: and that groſſe and rude gear in the bottom of the Sea, to make Shell-fiſh: But alſo living, moving, and perceiving Land-Wights, in the cloſe Rocks, (as you heard before) and in the cold Snow, and burning Fire, as thoſe Wormes and Flies in Ariſtotle.

To cloſe up all, and end this matter at once; If you remember how this our Heavenly Cure-all, when he was ſent into the Body, to work Long-life, Health and Luſtineſs, did not onely ſtrike, and kill, and put out of Being all foul and groſs diſtempers, his own and our enemies, but alſo cheriſh, nouriſh, and feed our Bodies, and bring it towards our own Nature, (even as far as we would by diſpoſing of the quantity:) you may eaſily conceive the plain and certain way of this great exchange, when you know his moſt clean, fine, clear, bright, and lightſome Nature.

Now we have diſpatched the firſt part of BLISSE, let us go to the ſecond; and becauſe we have not done it before, though we talked much thereof, we will now begin to bound the Matter, and make Virtue (as ^[382] Ariſtotle and Truth teacheth us) A mean in our outward deeds and dealings with other Men: or A Reaſon in Manners and Conditions, as Plato termeth it, all is one: The cauſe of Virtue is likewiſe ſet out in the beginning, to wit, A temperate Body, but I left the Proof unto this place, which is all the hardneſs in this cure of Lewdneſs: for, if it be once known that Temperateneſs is the cauſe of Virtue, we ſhall eaſily, by that temperate Medicine, ſo notable in the ſpeech going before, purchaſe and procure the ſame: And why that is ſo, it hath been ſo often worn before, that we may quite caſt it off, and leave it, being enough, in this place, to prove that a temperate ſtate of Body is the cauſe and way to Virtue.

But firſt let us ſee whether all Manners flow from the Body or not, and then from what State and Condition of the Body. Among them that have ſearched the Reaſon and Nature of things, the cauſe of Manners is laid upon the Diſpoſition, either of Stars, or of Mens Bodies, or of their Wills, thus or thus framed, either by the bent of Nature, or by uſe of Cuſtome. Let us ſcan the matter, and yet briefly. They cannot flow from the Will of the Mind of Man, leſt all Men ſhould perforce be good againſt our daily proof and experience; becauſe the Minde of it ſelf, as coming from goodneſs, is good, and alike good in all Men, as I ſaid before. And ſure no Cuſtome can alter and turn ſo Divine and Right a Will to lewdneſs, but by great force of Neceſſity, which force cannot be ſent and laid upon it by the Stars; for whether the Stars be Wights or no, they are all (as I ſhewed above) of one good ^[383] ſtrain and quality.—Or if they were not; or whatſoever they be either in ſubſtance or quality, they cannot touch the Mind immediately, but muſt needs be let in by the loops of the Body, and ſo change and diſpoſe the Body firſt and by means of this affect the Mind; for if the Mind it ſelf, a finer thing then the Stars, cannot pierce out of the Body, as we heard before, then much leſs ſhall they make way to get in by themſelves, without the helps to our Mind allotted; and as theſe are all bodily, (I mean the firſt helps) ſo the neereſt cauſe of Manners muſt needs flow from the Body: And if the inward Spirits and Wits likewiſe, do nought without the Inſtruments of the Body, and follow the Affection and Diſpoſition of the ſame, then the appetite of the unreaſonable Soul, common between us and Beaſts (upon which Ariſtotle and his heirs do lay the cauſe of Manners) is diſpatched alſo, and all the whole ſtrain muſt needs cleerly run from the Body.

But, leſt ſome All-denier come and ſhake theſe old Grounds, which you ſaw the Philoſophers lay ſo long ago, and ſo this Building might fall and tumble, I will ſhoar it up with Experience, a thing moſt fit to fill and pleaſe the ſence of them which have nothing elſe but ſence.

As all Diſeaſes, ſo all Manners ſpring, either from the natural and inherited, or from the purchaſed temper of the Body; To keep the firſt till anon: This we have either from the Air and Soil where we live, or from the Meat which we take: The Air followeth, either the place of the Sun, or the Nature of the Ground. But this is ſomewhat too hard and thorny a kind of teaching; let us inlarge our ſelves, and unfold, and prove, how, (though I ſhewed the manner at large before) the Air and Meat alters and changeth, and maketh to differ, the Bodies firſt, and ſo the Manners.

All ^[384] Aſtronomers and Philoſophers, (no otherwiſe than we ſee by proof) hold Opinion, that where the Sun is either too neer the People, as right over them, or too far off, as under the two Pins of the World, there the Bodies are big and ſtrong, ^[385] and the Manners rude and fierce; whereas within the two Middle and Temperate Girdles of the Earth, they keep a mean, and hit the midſt, as they ſay, both in Body and Manners, for that acquaintance with him, and his fellow-wanderers.

To come down to the Ground (for I muſt be ſhort) we ſee that a fat and ^[386] and foggy Land makes the Blood and Spirits thick and groſs, and thereby dull and ſlow, and ſo the Men fond in Wit, and rude, and ſimple, faithful, chaſt, and honeſt, and ſtill in that ſtrain of Manners: whereas a barren and dry Ground, if the Sun be temperate therewithal (as at Rome and Athens ^[387] maketh the ſame thin, clear, and lively, ſubtil and deceitful Men, valiant, unchaſte, and ſo forth of all other properties appertaining. For meet Manners in Men are like the Virtues and Properties of Plants, following both the ſundry tempers of the Bodies, when the Soul in them, and Mind in us, is one in all.—Then as the mixtures, qualities, and virtues of Plants are altered up and down, according to their Food and Suſtenance, as (to omit the outward nouriſhment of the Ground, whereby ^[388] Pepper brought out of Calicut into Italy, will, after a few ſettings, turn into Ivy, and ſuch like): the caſe is plain, a cunning Gardiner, either by ſteeping the Seed or Slip, or better by encloſing the Root or Stock, can give to any Plant any colour, taſte, ſmell, or power of Healing: even ſo the temper of Mens Bodies, and Condition of their Manners change to and fro, upon the ſame occaſion.

To let go that hold in Phyſick, That diſtempered Meats do breed the like diſtempers in thoſe famous Humors which make Complexions, and their Conditions; why are the ^[389] Tartarians ſo Beaſtly and Barbarous in Manners, but becauſe (beſides their Soil) they eat and drink the Fleſh and Blood of Horſes? we ſee the Iſlanders ^[390] of Corſica prove as bold, cruel, and falſe, as Doggs, whoſe Fleſh they feed upon.—A man may range far in this Field, but let us draw neer home; It is not without cauſe that ^[391] Plutarch, ^[392] Plato, and ^[393] other grave and wiſe Philoſophers give ſo ſtrait charge of care and heed in the choice of Nurſes▪ Is it not like, nay, in their opinion, certain, that the Child ſucks in with their Milk, their outward Shape, and inward Manners? Why not? As well as Beasts, that ſuck of ſtrangers out of kind, do plainly draw unto them much of their unkindly qualities; as appears by the ^[394] Foles in Africa, which by ſucking Camels are made more painful then their kind, ſwift and healthful for it; and enough ſuch like examples might be brought if time would ſuffer.

To come to our Bodies left us by our Parents: If we ſee Manners ingrafted and in-bred in Stocks and kindreds, and Children and Nephews ſtill down, to take one after another a long time, by Kind and Nature, (as that curſed father-beating kindred ſet down in ^[395] Ariſtotle, and other pilfering Stocks, which though they have no need, yet muſt needs ſteal; to let paſs Lechery, Valour, and other good and bad qualities, which we ſee daily deſcend and reign in Kindreds:) whence are theſe? Not from the Parents Mindes, which off-ſpring not, nor can be left nor engraffed, but muſt return ſtraight, and whole, and all at once, when they flit out of this Life, to that Heavenly place from whence they came: Neither are all their Wits alike framed by ^[396] uſe and cuſtome, but brought up ſometimes quite contrary: Therefore, to cut off the Aſtronomers opinions, as a ſtring too much diſcording, thoſe Manners ſpring out of the ^[397] Parents ſeed, which is a part of their Bodies, I mean of their ſecond Bodies, purchaſed by Meat and Nouriſhment, which Bodies if they uſe good and temperate Diet, are ever like the firſt; otherwiſe they follow the Nature of the Meats, and of their diſtempers, as Cardane ^[398] in a few of the worſt Diets, hath moſt notably marked, that drunken, or over-ſtudious, or too great faſting, or large Onion-eating Parents, do beget and bring forth, for the moſt part, mad and frantick Children.

To cloſe up all this Firſt Part, with this one little proof at once: If we find our ſelves do many things againſt our Wills, (as when a fearful thing is offered, our Hearts will pant, and fail with fear; when a fair, Luſt and his part will ariſe, whether we will or no, and all incontinency ſprings from that Root:) then ſure the Body muſt lay this force upon us. But how is this: And which way doth the Body ſo violently overrule, and carry away the Will and Mind after her? when any ſhape appears in the thought of Man, the doing Mind takes it ſtraight, (we muſt weare theſe words with uſe, and make them ſofter) and laying it with good or bad, and matching and comparing all things, decrees and determines; and then her Will and Reaſon, which Plato placeth in the Head, follows and deſires: But at the ſame time ſteps in another double Will and appetite, ſent from that unreaſonable and perceiving Soul, which is common between us and Beaſts, ſitting, one part in the Heart, and deſiring outward goods; the other in the Liver, and ſeeking the goods of the Body; And look which of theſe is ſtronger, that is, which hath the ſtronger houſe, either by deſcent or purchaſe, (or elſe the baſer would be ſtill the weaker, and obey the better) that prevailes and moves the Spirits unto it; and thoſe the Sinews, and thoſe again by other middle means the whole Body or part thereof, as is the pleaſure of the Commander.

Wherefore to come to the point more plainly, we ſhall never be good and follow Virtue, that is, a mean and reaſon in our deſires and doings, before theſe two parts, the Heart and the Liver, be firſt by Kind, and then by Diet in order, ſquare, and temper, apt to obey the Laws and Rules of Reaſon.—for to begin with the Root; If the Heart ^[399] be very Hot and Moiſt, the Man is Couragious and Liberal, deſiring Honour and great outward things; if Hot and Drie, Cruel, Angry, Deceitful, &c. But if it keep a Mean, and be Temperate in Quality, it keepeth a Mean and obeyeth Reaſon in that kind of Manners.—for the Liver, if it be ^[400] Hot and Moiſt likewiſe, it followeth Venery and Gluttony, if Hot and Drie it doth the ſame, but crookedly and out of courſe; but if it be Cold and Drie, the Man on the other ſide is very Chaſt and Abſtinent; and if Cold and Moiſt, ſomewhat Chaſt and Abſtinent, but untowardly: whereas a Temperate Liver holds a Mean in both, and following the Race of Kind, deſires to live Soberly in Company, and Honeſtly in Marriage, a Life as far from Monks and Eremites, as Gluttons and Lechers.

Wherefore, we ſee that all Manners proceed from the Temper of thoſe parts, (nay perhaps Underſtanding alſo, if it varieth ſtill according to the divers Heats and Moiſtures of the Brain, and if theſe two parts be the Springs of all Heat and Moiſture in the Body:) ſo that all good Manners and all Virtue, bud forth from the good, middle and equal mixture and temper of the ſame parts: And all our labour and travel (if we ſeek Virtue) muſt be to bring thoſe twain into ſquare and temper, that is, equality, as neer as may be, of the four qualities; not onely by the Philoſophical Salve of Uſe and Cuſtom, (though ^[401] Plato hits it right in his Timaeus, when he will have no Man lewd by his Will, and therefore not to be blamed, but through his Body by Uſe or Nature ill-diſpoſed; but rather by good Diet, and by right Phyſick eſpecially.

And thus we have, at laſt, finiſhed theſe Parts, wherein we meant to prepare the Mindes both of the Common and Learned People, and to make the way to the Truth of HERMES MEDICINE.

THE THIRD BOOK.

CHAP. 1. Of mending and bettering the State of MANS BODY.

ALbeit we have ſhewen heretofore divers wayes to BLISSE and HAPPINESSE, and ſundry means whereby the whole Kind of Men may come to Long-Life, Health, Youth, Rich[••], Wiſdom, and Virtue; yet, in truth, they are all by long and cumberſom wayes, fit rather to put them in mind of a better way (which was the drift of that purpoſe) than to be gone and travelled by the lovers of Wiſdom and Virtue; Wherefore, I would not wiſh them to arrive their counſels in any of thoſe places, but to ſeek to the Haven of HERMES, and of his ſons the wiſe Philoſophers, as to the onely one, ready, and eaſie way to all BLISSE and HAPPINESS.—Then we are come at laſt, to that which was the firſt intent and meaning of all this labour, that HERMES and the PHILOSOPHERS STONE and MEDICINE is the true and ready way to BLISSE.

But how ſhall we prove this, unleſs we unlock the door of Secrets, and let in Light to theſe matters, which have been ever moſt cloſely kept, and hid in darkneſs? We muſt, I ſay, firſt open what is HERMES MEDICINE, except we would put on a Vizard, and make a long buzze and empty ſound of words, about that which no man underſtands.

We are like now to be driven unto a marvellous ſtrait, either to flie the field, or to venture upon the curſe and diſpleaſure of many wiſe and godly Men; yea and of GOD HIMSELF, as we heard in the begining.—If ^[402] Plato thought he had cauſe, when he took in hand that mighty piece of work of the World, firſt to make his prayer; how much more may we in ſuch a world of doubts and dangers? And to deſire of GOD that we may prove our queſtion, not onely with ſufficient evidence, but with ſuch diſcretion alſo, that thoſe Men which can uſe it, and are worthy of it, may ſee the truth, and the reſt may be blinded.

Then both to direct my ſpeech, which muſt have ſome ground to ſtand on, and their ſteps which crave a little light to guide them. I think it beſt to come to the entrance of this way to BLISS, and to point afar off unto the end, leaving the middle way unto their own Wit and Labour; for I may not be their guide, leſt the reſt ſhould eſpy us, and follow as faſt.

HERMES MEDICINE, and the ready way to BLISS, lieth among the Metals, and upon the top and higheſt among them, even in Gold; And the end of this journey, where Bliſs begins is the Son of him. Albeit that I am not ignorant, that Father HERMES, and the reſt of his wiſe Foſter▪children hold and teach that out of any Plant, Wight, or Mineral may be fetched a Medicine for all Diſeaſes of Men and Metals, as good as this which we have deſcribed: Neither do we, as though we had drunk the water of Lethe, forget the reaſon of it above declared. Becauſe ^[403] all things are all things, and the ſame and one thing, as having all one ſtuff and Soul, if their ſtuff had the like, and not divers minglings. And for that all things, if they were wrought to the top and highest of perfection (as they may be) flowed alike with all the Virtues of Heaven and Earth, Soul, Body, Life, and Qualities. But theſe wayes are long, cumberſome, and coſtly, as well as the reſt, and I ſeek, you know, the moſt ready, near and eaſie, which is Gold, far above all other things in the World; The Reaſon is, becauſe Nature ^[404] hath poured her ſelf wholly upon him, and enfeoffed him of far more, and greater gifts, both of ^[405] Soul and Body, then all the reſt: having given him not onely great ſtore of the heat of Heaven, but alſo the moſt fine, temperate and laſting Body; whereby, but eſpecially by Reaſon of his excceeding tough and laſting Body, wherein he wonderfully paſſeth all things, wee have him halfe ready dreſt to our hands, and brought very near the journeys end, quickly to be led forward and finiſhed with little labour; when as the reſt are left in very hard way, and finiſhed with little labour.

It is ſtrange; I am perſwaded that a thouſand ounces of Plant or Wight (as for ^[406] Minerals, they be much better) cannot with great labour, coſt, skil[•], and time, be brought to that goodneſs, & nearneſs to perfection, as one ounce of Gold hath already given him by Nature; And I durſt warrant you, that out of one ounce of Gold, in leſs then one years ſpace, with a few pounds charge, may be gotten a Medicine, as good as the PHILOSOPHERS STONE of a Plant or Wight, that taketh a thouſand ounces of ſtuff, many hundred pounds of charge, three years time, and the wearing of many Mens Bodies: That we may think, although the wiſe Philoſophers in Egypt ſaw and ſhewed the depth of Nature, and theſe Works, yet they were not ſo mad and fond, as to put them in practiſe: And therefore ^[407] Geber ſaith, It is poſsible out of Plants to make the Stone, and yet almoſt impoſsible alſo, becauſe thy Life would firſt fail thee: Wherfore we may be content alſo to know the Secre[•], but let us uſe no other way but this, and ſo diſpatch not onely Plants and Wights, as foul and earthly things, but alſo middle Minerals, which are like the ſtanding Lights of Heaven, in this Compariſon.

Nay, neither hold we his fellow Plants to be his equals, no, though they be Quickſilver, or Silver themſelves, the beſt and neareſt of all the reſt, eſpecially Silver the Wife of Gold, but even let her pack away with the reſt; for, as her fire above gliſters, and makes a fair ſhew, until ſhe come in preſence of her Huusband; (as the wont of bad Women is;) ſo this our Earthly Moon be ſhe never ſo bright and excellent in another Company, yet in ſight and regard of Gold her Husband, ſhe appears as nothing. If you marvel why, It is becauſe ſhe wanteth much in heat of Heaven, temperateneſs and toughneſs of Body; but in fineneſs an hundred fold—Theſe things are high and lofty, and ſoare above the common ſight, we will fetch them down anon, and make them plain and eaſie.

Then let us fall to the Matter, that the Son of Gold may be found the ready way to BLISSE, and the perfect Medicine both of Man and Mettals; And firſt, as it is meet, let us regard our ſelves, and cure our own Bodies, before we help a Stranger.

There is no Gift, Property, or Virtue, but it ſpringeth either from the Soul or Body: The beſt gift of the Soul is moſt ſtore thereof, as we ſhewed before; And of the Body, fit temperateneſs in the firſt qualities; and then fineneſs and cloſeneſs, which cauſeth laſtingneſs, in the ſecond. Let us ſee how Gold excelleth in all theſe virtues, and overgoeth all other things, firſt by the gift of Nature, and then by a Divine Science. But it were not good, in ſuch a heap of Matters to be diſpoſed and diſpatched at once, to regard thoſe that be clear and received; ſo then let the fineneſs of Gold go his wayes as clear in all Mens Eyes, and his temperateneſs, which all Leaches grant, and take the reſt as things both more in doubt, and of greater worth.

^[408] Thoſe that are longeſt a ripening and growing to perfection, are both the moſt tough and laſting, and fulleſt of Heavenly Vertues; whereas on the other ſide, ^[409] ſoon Ripe, ſoon Rotten, as they ſay, an ill Weed grows apace, and ſo forth. The cauſe of this in Bodies is, becauſe the firſt Moiſture, if it be ^[410] faſt and cloſe, that is, Fat, proceedeth and ſpreadeth ſlowly, and is hardly conſumed, and eaten up with the Fire of Life, when ^[411] thin and wateriſh Moiſture, both ſpreads apace, and ſpends as faſt. And for this that Heavenly Virtue, when the ſtuff hath long lain open under the hands of the Spirits of Heaven, it muſt needs receive great ſtore of them, and hold them ſurely with his ſtrength and toughneſs; what Reaſon can ſhew this more plainly, except you will call me to examples? then bend your Ears awhile, and mark the ^[412] Elephant, two years in making in his Mothers Womb, and a long time in growing to his beſt eſtate and luſtineſs, to reach the higheſt and beſt pitch in mortality (for Man is immortal) not onely by his ſtrength and long life, which you heard before, but through ^[413] a kind of Wit and good Conditions alſo drawing near to the Nature of Mankind.

Conſider again of Mice, thoſe little Vermine, how ſoon they be bred, as, ſometimes the Earth creates them, ſometimes the Mother without the Male, ^[414] by licking ſalt, and otherwiles (for a Wonder in Nature) they ^[415] conceive and are big with Young in their Mothers belly; Conſider, I ſay, how ſoon again they be ſwept away, even with a ſhowre of Rain, as ^[416] Aristotle reporteth; who tells of [•] ^[417] one-day Fly, bred in a leaf in the Fore-noon, at Midday fledge, and ever dying at night, with the ſetting of the Sun.

Again, Pliny ^[418] writeth of a Child, that within three years ſpace, grew three Cubits, and was now grown to Mans eſtate (which they call Pubertatem) but haſte makes waſte, as they ſay, and within three years after his Limbs ſhrunk up again, and he died: Nay, he ^[419] ſaith, that the whole kind of Women, amongſt the Calingians, conceives at five years of Age, and lives but eight.

To cut off living Wights, and to come to Plants, are not Trees, the longer lived the better in uſe, for that long growth and ripening? And among Trees, doth not the Oak, ^[420] after his long growth to perfection, ſtand, to our great profit, even for ever almoſt? It is ſtrange that I ſay, and yet Joſephus ^[421] writes of one, that ſtood from Abrahams time, to the razing of Jeruſalem, two thouſand years at leaſt, and God knows how long after that time it laſted.—To be ſhort, the beſt Tree of all that the Earth brings forth, the Cocus of India, ^[422] in one Mans age, ſcarce begins to bear any fruit, and laſteth after that almoſt paſt all Ages; wherefore the Minerals, by the courſe of Reaſon and Cuſtome, being by the grant of all Men, longeſt in making and perfecting, muſt needs, of all other, be both beſt in Virtue, and laſt the longeſt; and among them, Gold above all, becauſe it is the end of all, and ſo far, in that point, paſſeth the moſt part of them, that as ſome Men think, a thouſand years are ſpent before he come to perfection; for his long laſting, we plainly ſee he is everlaſting.—And if we doubt of his Heavenly Virtue, let us weigh the Place and Womb where he is bred and faſhioned, and we ſhall ſee it a ^[423] Common Gulph of all the Beams of Heaven, even as the Sea is the receipt of all Rivers that run.

How is this? All the beams of Heaven ſet forth from a round and wide compaſs, and like Lines in a Circle, after they have travelled a great wide way one from another, do meet at laſt together jump ^[424] in the Navel of the Earth; yea, and with great force and ſtrength above all other Spirits in other places, not onely by reaſon of the length of their journey (for all natural things, the ^[425] further they go the more they mend their pace) but chiefly becauſe the meeting in ſuch a ſtrair, with ſuch abundance, they violently thruſt, and throw one another on heaps together, as we ſee the force of Winds or Water meeting in that order; or rather as the Sun beams falling upon the Stone ^[426] Hephaeſtites, or the Steeple-faſhioned burning-Glaſs, thereby ſhews ſuch ſtrange and unwonted force, ^[427] to burn dry things, melt Mettals, and ſuch like, becauſe the beams that light upon it, do meet all on heaps, and apace, in one narrow point of the middle.

Wherefore the Minerals, becauſe ^[428] they be bred and brought up about that place, firſt receive great plenty of thoſe Heavenly Spirits, and then thoſe very ſurely ſet on by the ſwiftneſs of the ſtroke, and as faſt held and kept for the ſound and cloſe bodies that take the printing; when as Plants and Wights dwelling in one place, and out-ſide of the ground aloft, where theſe Beams and Breaths of Heaven are more ſcarce, ſlack and weak, muſt needs have, not onely leſs ſtore faintly put upon them, but alſo thoſe which they have, for their looſe and ſoft ſtuffe, quickly loſt and foregone again.

But if the edge of ſome Mens Wits be too blunt and dull to cut ſo deeply into the Earth, to find this Matter, let them caſt their eyes, and behold the dayly experience, how theſe Heavenly spirits in Minerals, for all they be ſhut up and bound ſo faſt in the priſon of that hard and ſturdy Stuffe, yet are able to ſhew their force as much, and work as mightily as the free Breaths of other things enlarged in their ſoft and gentle Bodies.

It would not be amiſs I think, to bring in a few and ſet before us, becauſe for the ſloth of the Times paſt, and ſpight of the Later Leaches, theſe things have lain for the moſt part buried as they be, and hid from the light and common knowledge.

Then, to paſs by the ^[429] Pearl, that helpeth ſwoonings, and withſtands the plague of Poyſons; the ^[430] Smaragde and ^[431] Jacinth, which keeps off the Plague likewiſe, and heals the wounds of Venomous ſtings, and many more ſuch rare and worthy Vertues, which they themſelves grant, and give to precious Stones in their Writings, nay in their Broths, Pills, and ^[432] Electuaries; let us come to hard Juyces, and Middle Minerals: The Water of Nile, which makes the Women of Egypt ſo quick of Conceit, and ſo Fruitful, as to bear ſeven at a Birth, as ^[433] Pliny writes, is known to be Salt-Peter-Water.—It is found by common proof, that the ſame ^[434] Salt-Peter, or Common Salt, or Coppreſs molten and made a Water, kills the poyſon of the Toadſtool, and juyce of Poppy: That a Plaiſter of ^[435] Salt or Brimstone, heals the hurt of Venom in-ſtinged: That Amber, ^[436] which is no Stone, but a hard clammy Juyce called Bitumen, eaſeth the labour of Women, and the falling ſickneſs of Children; It is known likewiſe that almoſt all wholſome ^[437] Baths, both wet and dry, of Water or his Vapour (which are without number in the World; but eſpecially that famous Hot-Houſe in Italy, called ^[438] Salviati, for the ſpace of three miles compaſs wrought and hewen out of the ground very daintily, deſerveth to be named, and delivered to the Memory of Men to come;) flow from ^[439] a Brimſtony ground, and draw from thence all their Nature, Quality, Force, and Virtue; except a few of Coppereſs Water, as appears by their dying property, whereby they give any white Metal, their own yellow and Copper colour.

Now for Metals; If it be true, that precious Stones in that hard and ungentle faſhion, ſhew ſuch virtue and power of healing, why ſhould we mark the German for a Lyar, when he awards ^[440] great praiſe to the Mixture of all the Metals, made in the converſion of their own Planets, which he calls Electrum, ſaying it will cure the Cramp, Benumming, Palſey, and Falling-ſickneſs, if it be worn on the hearty finger; and gives ſigns beſides if the Body aileth any thing, by ſpots and ſweating: and bewray Poyſon if it be made in Plate, by the ſame tokens, for all that ^[441] Pliny will have Poyſon ſo deſcried by the natural Electrum, and waſh off Gold and Silver, and by the ſigns of Rainbows, and by noiſe of Fire when it hiſſeth; and not by the artificial mixture to be made of Silver and Gold, and Copper, adulterando adulteria naturae, as he more finely then conſtantly ſaith, when he had alotted ſo chaſt Virtue before unto her.

But ſuppoſe this Virtue in the hard form of Metals not ſo apparent, yet no Man ſhall deny the daily proof of them, opened by rude Skill, and ſet at liberty, as the great uſe of Burnt ^[442] Braſſe, ^[443] Iron-Saffron, ^[444] Metal-ſmoke, (and this by Gallen's own witneſs) and marvellous help in Surgery; Nay, the mighty power, both within and without of ^[445] Antimony, which is unripe Lead, and of Quick-ſilver, very raw and running Silver, ſo often tried before their Eyes, hath ſo amazed, and quite daunted the later Leaches: though Galen ^[446] himſelf in times paſt, hath termed this rank Poiſon, ſet ſtraight againſt our Nature, and the leaſt part thereof taken inward, to hurt and annoy us, to the great laughter of the Countrey Wits, which, even with Child, a dangerous time to take Phyſick in, without any hurt at all, nay with ſpeedy and onely help, ^[447] uſe to drink it againſt Worms in great quantitie.—But Galen did but rove by gueſs at the matter, when as ^[448] in another place, forgetting himſelf, (as he doth often) he ſaith he never had tried her force, neither within, nor without the Body.

But if theſe Stones, ^[449] Juices and Metals were by greater Skill, more finely dreſt, and freely ſet at liberty (as they be by the German) what wonders were they like to work in the Art of Healing? Neither let us think (as Galen and his band thinks of all things) that thoſe great and rare Mineral virtues could iſſue out and come from the groſs and foul Body, but from an Heavenly gift of a mighty Soul, which cannot be kept in awe, and held ſo ſtra[•] with thoſe Earthly bonds, as it ſhall not be able, in ſom[•] ſort, to ſtir and break through, and ſhew his force and power.

Wherefore, to return to my purpoſe, If Nature hath beſtowed upon theſe three ſorts and ſuits of Minerals, ſo large Gifts and Virtues, what hath ſhe given to Gold ^[450] the end and perfection of them all, which hath paſſed in that travel through the midſt of them all, ^[451] ſo receiving and holding the Virtues of them all with advantage? What ſay the Leaches to this matter? They are loth to ſay any thing, albeit their deeds ſpeak enough, when they lay raw Gold to the out-ſide ^[452] of the Head, to heal his Ache; right (e) againſt the Heart, to comfort his ſadneſs and trembling; and when in ſuch ſort they apply it to ſuch purpoſes: Again, why do they boil it in their (d) Culliſes? mix it with their ^[453] Pills and Electuaries? bid the Lepers ſwallow it? &c. Do they not ſeem to ſmell his great and matchleſs power againſt Diſeaſes, and marvellous comfort and wholſomneſs unto our Nature, but that like rude and unskilful Cooks, they know not how to dreſs it? But if they knew the Skill, they ſhould ſee it riſe in Power and Virtue, according to his degrees in Freedom; and when it came to the top, which I call the Sonne of Gold, to prove Almighty, I mean within our compaſs; for conſider, Gold is now good and friendly above all unto us, for his exceeding ſtore of comfortable Heat of Heaven, ſhining through the miſt of a moſt fine and temperate Body; Then what would it be, if thoſe properties of Body, were by great mingling and breaking of the Stuffe, refined and raiſed in their kind, an hundred degrees at leaſt? (which our Art profeſſeth;) and thoſe lively and piercing heaps of comfortable Spirits, freed and ſet at liberty, and all theſe ſeated upon a moſt mighty Body, ſubduing all things? Is there any thing in the World to be compared unto the marvellous Work which he would make in our Body? Could any of theſe very violent and mortal Poiſons, which I brought in above, ſo eaſily and roundly deſtroy, as this would help and ſave us? But to come to the Point: If that our Old, Fine, Cloſe and Aethereal Oil, which they call a Fifth Nature, was able alone, for the Reaſons ſet down in their places, to breed and beget all thoſe bleſſed bodily gifts and properties, that is, Laſtingneſſe, Health, Youth, and the two ſprings of Wiſdom and Virtue, Clearneſſe and Temperateneſſe; How much more ſhall this Sonne of Gold, the Medicine and Stone of HERMES, and his Off-ſpring be ſufficient and furniſhed for it?

For firſt, when his Soul and Heat of Heaven is much more great and mighty, and his Body a more fine and faſt Oil, that is, a more like and laſting Food of Life, it both upholdeth and ſtrengtheneth Life and Natural Heat the better, and ſo proves the better cauſe of Long Life and Youth: Then being more temperate, and that quality carried upon a finer and tougher, that is, a ſtronger Body, it is able with more eaſe and ſpeed to ſubdue his and our Enemies, the diſtempered Diſeaſes, and to cleanſe and clear, faſhion, and bring into good order and temper, the whole frame of our Body, and ſo procure Health, Wiſdom, and Virtue in better ſort, and in more full and heaped meaſure: for you muſt not think that a Fifth Nature of Wine, or ſuch like, which I brought in heretofore, and which many ^[454] Men do make for their Bodies, is ſo good by twenty degrees, as the PHILOSOPHERS STONE, I mean the ſame meaſure of both; when, beſides that it is not ſo temperate, and near unto Heaven, (though the name be never ſo near) for it wanteth twenty parts of the Soul, and as much of that fine Stuffe cloſely and finely tied up together; and therefore one part thereof will laſt longer, and ſpread further with all his Virtues, and ſo do more good in our Bodies then twenty times as much of the former. Deliver to minde what I ſay, it is worthy marking,—I ſhall not need to ſtand to ſhew you the Reaſons why, and manner how this great Medicine of HERMES ſhall be able to get and purchaſe theſe our Bliſſes of Mind and Body, becauſe it is already done at large elſewhere, and it may ſuffice, in this place, to win by force of Reaſon (which hath been done as much as needs) that this Medicine is much better, and more able than an Aether, Heaven, or Fifth Nature.

Then theſe Men may ſee (I mean ^[455] Paracelſe, and ſuch as know whereof they ſpeak, let the reſt go) how raſh and unadviſed they prove themſelves, when they are content to let in the name of Poiſon into this happy Medicine, and to avow that it worketh all thoſe wonders in our Bodies, by that way of curing which I ſhewed, by ſtronger like [•]oiſons: for then it would be, at moſt, but a general Medicine, and Cure-all againſt Diſeaſes, and fit for Health alone, but no bleſſed way to Long-life, Youth, Wiſdom, and Virtue, which grant as well as the other, both he and all the reſt do give unto him: for it might not be taken and uſed in a ſound Body, no more then a purging Medicine, except it weare off that Viperous kind aforeſaid: for he would then battel with our Nature, ſpoil and overthrow the firſt moiſture, and the whole frame of the Body, fo far would it be from nouriſhing the Natural Heat and Moiſture, from clearing and tempering the Body to cauſe Long-Life, Youth, Wiſdom and Virtue. And the reaſon of this reproof is, becauſe when every Poiſon is very barren and empty of Heat of Heaven, and very diſtemperedly cold and drie in body, ſet ſtraight againſt our Hot and Moiſt Nature, as appears by flying the Fire and Oil his Enemies; The PHILOSOPHERS STONE was temperate in reſpect, at firſt; and is now exactly ſo, and a very fine Oil, and full of Heavenly Spirits: and ſo, for theſe three cauſes, not onely moſt friendly, and like to our Nature, but alſo a very deadly Enemy, and moſt croſſe contrary to all Poiſons.

CHAP. II. That the PHILOSOPHERS STONE is able to turn all baſe METALS into SILVER and GOLD.

ANd thus we have lightly run over the former part of Long-Life, Health, Youth, Clearneſſe, and Temperateneſſe, which make up all good gifts of Body needful: Let us now come to the outward help of Riches, and borrow ſo much leave again, as to uſe the Cauſe for the Effect, and to take Gold for Riches, and ſtrive to ſhew that the Son of Gold is able to turn any Metal into Gold; and not ſo ſparingly, now, and hardly as we did before, by thoſe baſtard kinds of Binding and Colouring, (though a little, if it were without miſpence of time and travel, would ſerve our turn) but as fully and plentifully, as any of our Men avow, to the amazement of the World: They ſet down no certain ſumme nor ſtint, which I will do, becauſe I have to do with thirſting Ears, and becauſe again I love not to run at random, but to have a certain mark whereat to aime and level all my ſpeeches.

Then let us ſay, By this great Skill of HERMES, and a little Labour and Coſt, we may ſpend with the greateſt Monarch of the World, and reach the Turks Revennue, yea, though it be Fifteen Millions Sterling, as I find it ^[456] credibly reported; yea, let us be bold, and not, as ^[457] Socrates did when he ſpake of Love, hide our Face for the Matter.—The Truth is vouchable before GOD and Man, and will bear it ſelf out at laſt; though it be my luck, ſtill to be croſt by Men of our own Coat, HERMES Foſter-children;—But what do I call them ſo? Albeit Paracelſe, with whom we dealt of late, was plainly ſo; yet his Scholar Dorne which now comes in place, is out of this account as cleerly: This Man, I ſay, to excuſe his own Ignorance, hath learn'd a new trick in unfolding of HERMES Riddle, that neither ^[458] HERMES, nor any of his Followers, in ſaying they turn the four foul Metals, Lead, Tinne, Iron, and Copper into Silver and Gold, mean plainly according to common ſpeech, but ſtill Riddle and double the matter, underſtanding the four Complexions of our Body, (which he buſieth himſelf to match with thoſe four Metals) into good form and temper changed: And theſe to be the Silver and Gold which they make at any time; and that by this token, becauſe they fetch their Medicine, as you heard even now, out of all things.—Then he flieth out and lifteth up his Maſter with high praiſes, for finding firſt, and untwining the Knot and Riddle; whereas there is nothing ſo plain, both in Paracelſe and all other of his Hidden Science, as their Opinion, as touching this matter: Nay, ſee the worthy Memory of the Man, he himſelf in conſtruing the words of his Maſter, concerning the ſame Matter, makes, as well as he, and the reſt, a plain diviſion of this Work, and yieldeth in open tearms, that our Medicine ſerveth both for Men and Metals.

This Noble Doctor, when I was a Novice and firſt-ling in this ſtudy, as he miſ-led me in other things, which he took upon him to unfold, ſo he amazed me in this, before he himſelf knew the leaſt of them: But after I went forward, and began to conſider earneſtly, and weigh the things by their own weight, (and not by the weight of Words and Authorities) the onely way to Knowledge, I quickly ſaw the falſhood of that new opinion, and more plain reaſon and cauſe of belief, for this point, then for all the reſt, which he allowes, and which I ſhewed before. Then let us not ſtay for him, nor for any thing elſe, but let us march forward, with all ſpeed and courage.—And if it be never good in diſcourſe of Speech, to heap and huddle up altogether, but for light ſake to joynt the Matter, and cut it in divers pieces, let us do ſo too, and prove firſt that the Son of Gold is able to turn Metals that are baſe into Gold; then that he can change ſo much as to make up that Sonne, I ſet as needful.

He is to turn Metals two wayes; firſt, as a Seed, if a Man liſt to ſow him upon them: And then, after his Birth, by Nouriſhment, or turning them into his own Nature; And this is either into his Fathers (which is his own after a ſort) or, into his now-being, and ſelf ſame Nature. Of theſe I will treat ſeverally: And firſt of Seed, which cannot be denied unto Gold, if all ^[459] things have Life, and Life have ^[460] three powers and abilities, to be Nouriſhed, and to Wax, and to beget his Like, alſo; The ſecond part is clear and granted among all Philoſophers: And that all things have Life, it hath been often ſhewed before by their feeding and divers other Arguments.

But becauſe it is a thing whereon almoſt all the frame of my ſpeech leaneth, and yet much in doubt, and hardly believed among the Learned, let us take it again, and prove it by name in Minerals, becauſe they be both fartheſt from belief, and neareſt our drift and purpoſe.

^[461] Thoſe things that have Diſeaſes, Age, and Death, cannot but live; and we ſee plainly the Diſeaſes, Age, and Death of precious Stones; but moſt clearly in the precious Load-ſtone (though he be foul in ſight) which is kept, fed, and nouriſhed in the filings of Iron, his proper and like Food, when Quickſilver or Garlike quite deſtroyes him, and puts out all his Life, Strength and Virtue.

But how if the g Minerals by feeding, wax and grow as ^[462] well as Plants or Wights? As Miners have good experience of that, when they ſee them by thoſe due and conſtant fits, ſo dangerouſly voide their Leavings.—Agricola ſaith, ^[463] that Salt-Peter, after that by draining it hath loſt its taſte and virtue, if it be laid open in the Weather, will within five or ſix years ſpace, grow and ripen, and recover his power and ſtrength again. The ^[464] ſame man telleth of one Lead-mine, and two other of Iron, which after they be digged and emptied, within few years ſpace, ripen and grow to be full again, and one of theſe every tenth year.

But admit theſe by the ſlight and canvaſs of a crafty Wit, may be ſhifted off, yet they ſhall never rid the next that follows of Lead, after he hath been taken out of his proper Womb, where he was bred, and nouriſhed, and faſhioned into his form for our uſe requiſite, yet, if it be laid in a moiſt place under ground, it will wax and grow both in weight and bigneſs, ^[465] by many good Authors, yea, and by (k) Galen his own witneſs, which although it be light otherwiſe, yet is of weight in this matter, becauſe it maketh ſo much againſt his own cauſe; Nay, mark what ^[466] G. Agricola reports, that the ſame hath been found true on the top of houſes, and ſhewes where and how the proof was taken.

But, to come to the very point, ^[467] Paracelſe ſaith, that Gold buried in a good Soile, that lieth Eaſt, and cheriſhed well with Pigeons dung and urine, will do the ſame; and ſure, I dare not condemn his witneſſe in this Matter, becauſe the reſt that went before, ſeem to ſay as much in effect, and to avow the truth of this Story.

Then, if it be ſo certain that Gold hath life, there is no help but he ſhall beget his like alſo, if Philoſophy and common proof be received: But they ^[468] will ſay, that nothing doth ſo that wanteth ſeed, as many Wights and Plants doe, and all Minerals; No man ſaith ſo, that knoweth what is ſeed; ^[469] Seed is no groſſe thing that may be ſeen with Eyes, but a fine and hot Heavenly breath, which we call Life and Soul, wherewith not onely the common ſoul of the World, but alſo Wights, yea, and perfect ^[470] Wights ſometimes, beget without the company and ſenſe of that frothy ſtuff and ſhell, as I ſaid above; but yet moſt commonly Nature takes the help and guard of that Body called Seed: This was proved to be not onely a branch and part ſlipt from the whole Body, but the whole it ſelf ſometimes, as by kind, in the four beginnings, and in Minerals, and in ſeedleſſe Plants, and Wights; and by Skill in all. Therefore Minerals and all have their Seed, and their whole Body is their Seed.

Then, as by Nature, they are wholly ſowne and die, and (or elſe under-moon ^[471] things would prove mortall) riſe again the ſame encreaſed according to the wont of Nature, even ſo they will above ground, if we can by skill uſe them kindly, which we may, as well as Nature, if we could eſpy her Footings, not unpoſſible to be ſeen, as I could ſhew you quickly, if I might a little unwind the bottome of ſecrets, and lay them open; But I muſt take heed.

Then, as the ſeed of Plants and Wights riſeth again much encreaſed in ſtore and bigneſſe, becauſe it drawes unto it and turns into his Nature much of the kindly ſtuff and ground that lieth about it to corrupt it: Even ſo, if you ^[472] make the Metals a ground fit to receive and corrupt the ſeed of Gold, it will, after his due time riſe again, turning them, or much of them, into his own Nature.

Now Dr. Dorne may ſee, if he be not blinded, that this is no Riddle matter, but a plain and certain Truth, grounded upon the open and daily race of Nature, which not I ſpied firſt, (as he ſpied out the ſubtill falſhood:) but the ſame all the Troop of the wiſe Egyptians ſaw and taught before me; yea, and ſome of them that ſit in darkneſſe, as thoſe worthy Leaches, whoſe aid we took before, Ficine, Fernel, and Cardane; eſpecially the two firſt, becauſe they bare good-wil to the truth of this Science; But Cardane, as a man that neither knew nor loved it, halts a little; for when he had all about held for certain, that Minerals and all had life, and were nouriſhed, and grew and waxed, yet he buried the third point with ſilence.

But let us not urge this ſo much in this place, becauſe it is not the right Son of Gold, and Stone of HERMES, but a leſſer skill, and lower way to Riches, fit to have been followed in the Second Book.—Then how doth the PHILOSOPHERS STONE, and the naturall Son of Gold it ſelf turn baſe Metals into Gold? For that was the ſecond thing to be handled in this place.

When this Child is born, keep him in his heat, which is his life, and give him his due and naturall food of Metals, & he muſt needs, if he be quick, & able to be nouriſhed, digeſt, change, and turn them into his own Nature, much more eaſily than Lead, and he in a cold place, and rude and hard faſhion, was before able to turn ſtrange meat and digeſt it.

And as I ſhewed above the change of natural things when they meet in Combate, to be either throughour, or half way, that is, either by Conſuming to raze one another quite out, and turn him into his own ſelf-ſame Nature; or when by mixture both their Forces are broken and dulled equally: Even ſo, in this great skilfull change, we may ſo order the matter, and match the two Combatants, that is, the Meat and Feeder, Stuff and Doer, with ſuch proportion, that one ſhall either get the Victory, and eat up the other quite, or both be maimed alike and weakened.

To be plain; If we give ^[473] this mighty Child and Son of Gold, but a little Food (the quantity I leave to diſcretion) he will be able to turn it througly into his own ſelf-ſame Nature, and thereby to mend himſelf, and increaſe his own heap and quantity: But if you will make Gold, which is your laſt end and purpoſe, match your Medicine with a great deal, an hundred times as much, or ſo (your eyes ſhall teach you) and both ſhall work alike upon each other, and neither ſhall be changed throughly, but make one Mean thing between both, which will be Gold, if you will, or what you will, according to your proportion: And if you perceive not, mark how (the compariſon is ſomewhat baſe, but fit and often uſed by our Men) they make a ſharp and ſtrong Medicine, ^[474] called Leaven, of the beſt wrought Flouer, which is Dough; and ſuch another of Milk, well mingled in the Calves bag, named ^[475] Rennet; and how by matching them with juſt proportion of Flouer and Milk, they turn them into the middle Natures of Dough and Curds: Nothing ſo fit; mark it well.

Nay, ſith you begin to call me to examples, I will ply and load you with them, and yet I will lay no ſtrange burthens upon you, no, not the quick nature of the Scottiſh ſea, returning wood ^[476] into Geeſe; Nor yet the ^[477] Eagles feathers, that lying among Gooſe quills eat them up, two more marvellous changes, then all thoſe that are profeſſed in the Art of Changing, yet I leave them, I ſay, for things too ſtrange and far of my purpoſe; here are many Waters and Earth, which I am credibly informed by ^[478] G. Agricola and ^[479] others as good Authors, are indued with the properties to turn any Plant, Wight, or Mettal into ſtone. Cardane ^[480] tells of a Lake in Ireland, wherein a ſtake ſtuck down will turn in one years ſpace, ſo much as ſticks in the Mud, into ſtone, and ſo much as ſtands in the water to Iron, the reſt remaining Wood ſtill.

There is an old Mine-pit in the Hill ^[481] Carpat in Hungary wherein the people daily ſteep their Iron, and make it Copper: the reaſon of theſe things is plainly that which I brought, for our great and Golden change, and likened to Rennet and Leaven hard before.

The waters and Earths which aſtoniſh things in that order, are evermore, infected and mixed with ſome very ſtrong Stony▪juyce, ^[482] as Agricola, ſaith; and Reaſon agreeth plainly in the waters, when they no ſooner ^[483] reſt from running, then they go into a ſtone. Nay, ^[484] Pliny ſaith, that Stony-ſlix in Arcadia, goeth into ſtone running; which thing the foul Traytor ^[485] Antipater belike perceiving, meant thereby to try ſuch a change upon his Lord, the great Grecian Monarch, when he gave it him to drink and killed him.

The Iriſh-water is, without doubt, Mineral, and as I gather by the deſcription, temper'd and dried with that Iron by juyce which is called Ferrugo: But every Man knoweth for certain, that the water of Carpat ^[486] is Coppreſs water; Now Copperſs is as near the Nature, as the Name of Copper, which the Greeks ſet out moſt clearly, calling Copper, [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉], Chalcum, and that other, [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉], Chalcanthus, and the ſtone Pyritis, or Marcaſite, (as it is termed in Arabia) that breeds them both, [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. It is like Leaven to dough, ^[487] made of Copper, and raiſed to a ſharp quality, which when it is looſened into water, and by draining and diſtilling up and down in that Hill refined, it becomes yet more ſharp and ſtrong, able eaſily to overcome Iron, a like and near weaker thing, (for what is ſo near as Iron to Copper) and turn him into his own, old, mean and middle Nature.

But how ſhall we ſhew that Coppris came of Copper in that Order: firſt the proof of our Men maketh it clear, ^[488] when they turn that into this, and this into that again, ſo commonly: Then the authorities of Geber and Agricola (the beſt skil'd in Mineral matters, of all that ever wrote) ^[489] the one af[•]er that he had obſerved it long in Mines, ſetting it down for a Rule, and ^[490] Geber calling it the Gum and as it [•]ere the droppings of Copper: But cheifly the Workmens daily practiſe, who by following the ſteps of Nature, ſoftning and diſſolving that brazen ſtone Pyritis, do commonly make Copper.

Let us now ſee what Art hath done by counterfeiting theſ[•] patterns by Nature ſet ſo plainly before her. If ſhe hath not done as much, and more ſurely, ſhe was but a rude and untoward skill; let us ſee what is done.

She hath likewiſe, and as well as Nature, ^[491] by a ſharp ſtony Water, called ſal-gem water, tu[•]ned Wood into stone, yea, and Mettals alſo into prec[••]us ſto es, not by any counterfeit way which Glaſs-makers uſe but Philoſophically, and Naturally. by a marvellous clear and ſtrong water of Quickſilver, leading them back in the middle nature of fine ſtone. To let paſs middle Minerals, which by the ſame courſe Art eaſily changeth one into another; ſhe [•]u nerh Antimony ^[492] into Lead, and this into Tinne eaſily; theſe things Agricola reporteth, and tells the way of the firſt by Concoction only; but not of the ſecond, which Paracelſus ſupplieth, ^[493] by purging him our way of binding with ſal Armoniak. I could ſet down a w[•]y to turn Iron in to ſuch ^[494] steel; as would cut Iron as faſt as this will cut wood, and bear out all ſmall ſhot, but that they are both but one kinde, ^[495] one better purged then the other, as indeed ſo are all the Mettals, though not ſo nearly allied.

Even ſo I eſteem of the ſilvery and golden Coppreſs, which Nature ſometimes yields under ground, and Art counterfeits by our binding and colouring Rules above-ſet, as Agricola tells and teacheth: Neither think theſe baſtard wayes quite out of Rule, but to follow the ſame reaſon of Nature; and as the reſt take the finer like part and leave the groſs unlike, ſo do theſe feed upon their like the fowler parts, and leave the better as unlike their Nature.

But to proceed; To turn Iron into Copper by Coppreſs water, is ſomewhat more ordinary then the reſt. ^[496] Agricola ſaith, an old parting water, which is made thereof (as we know) will do it. But the workmen in the Hill ^[497] Kuttenberg in Germany, do more nearly follow Nature in that Hill of Carpat, for they drain a ſtrong Lie from the Brazen-ſtone, that is, they make Coppreſs-water ſtrongly and kindly, and by ſteeping their Iron in it, make very good Copper. Nay, further Paracelſ. ^[498] ſaith again, that in Caſten they turn Lead alſo into Copper, and though he nameth not the means in that place, yet other where he doth, and teacheth how by Coppris ſundry wayes ſharpned, to turn both Lead and Iron into Copper; In which place he delivereth another pretty Feat, to unlooſe, and leade back, both Iron and Copper into Lead again, and this into Quick-ſilver, by the force of a ſharp melting dust, which Miners uſe, and this by our common Rule ſtill of ſtronger Lakes; for this duſt being of the ſame nature ſtill with exalted ^[499] Lead and Quick-ſilver, two great ſoftners and looſeners of hard Bodies, is able to make the ſtubborn Mettals, to retire and yield into the middle place of Lead, and this into Quick-ſilver.

Now then we ſee that Art hath reached and overtaken all the natural changes of Minerals; why may not ſhe by the ſame pattern deviſe more of her ſelf, as the guiſe of good work-men is, and go beyond Nature, and turn the foul Mettals into fine Silver and Gold? She hath a great advantage of Nature. Firſt her Patterns, and then her help in working: and laſtly the Light and Inſtruction of a Divine wit and Underſtanding, whereby no marvel if all wiſe men have ſaid, ſhe paſſeth Nature.

Albeit it is uncertain whether Nature hath ſuch a Golden Medicine in her boſome hid, or no, as well as thoſe of Copper, Stone, and ſuch like; yet this is ſure, that by the baſtard way of binding (as we have heard before) ſhe turneth Lead and Tinne, and perhaps Copper too, but ſurely Quickſilver and ſilver into Gold. Then I ſay it is a ſign of a weak and ſhallow wit, if Art cannot by theſe patterns aforeſaid, deviſe further to turn other Mettals into Silver and Gold. Is it any more to do, then to exalt and raiſe Silver and Gold (but this ^[500] will ſerve for both) into very ſharp and ſtrong qualities, able, like the reſt, to devour and turn their like meat into their own middle Nature, from whence they ſprung; certainly the reaſon is ſo plain and ready, that I muſt needs deem him leſs then a child, that cannot conceit it. Nay, bend your ears and minds: By reaſon, if the workman be very ſtrong over the ſtuffe, he will turn, in trial, things unlike and contrary, as well, though not ſo eaſily, as like and friendly.

And for the proof of ſtonyjuyces, turning all ſorts of things, even Mettals themſelves ^[501] into ſtone as hath been found by the ſtamp remaining; of Ant[•]mony and Coppreſs turned into Lead and Copper; of the ripening of the Mineral Mines of Lead and Gold, eatin[•] Durg and Urine, and ſuch like exchanges ſet down before, I am led to think, that a very luſty and ſtrong Medicine would be able to change [•]ther things, as well as M[•]ttals eſpecially minerals, into go[•]d ^[502] ſome of our m[•]n ſa no, becauſe there wants in the reſt the ground of Quickſilver, the knot of friendſhip and unity: I grant it very hard in reſpect of the right way; and yet I hold it poſſible.

And thus you have ſeen the ability of Hermes Medicine, to turn baſe Mettals into Gold by three ſundry wayes. Firſt, as he is ſown and riſeth again to be made a Medicine, which I call begetting. And then by changing the little food that is given him into his own Nature, to make him wax and grow in heap and bigneſs, which I terme nouriſhment. And Laſtly, by changing the great ſtore of ſtuffe wherewith we match him, half way in the middle nature of Gold which is the beſt change and drift of our purpoſe. And this I may do well to call M[•]xtion, though ^[503] Ficine and ^[504] Fennel name it Begetting alſo: as it is a kinde indeed: But becauſe it goeth not the kindely way, let it go, and us keep our Order.

CHAP. III. That the Phyloſophers Stone will turn baſe Mettals with as much advantage as we will.

BUt how ſhall our Son of Gold be able to ſubdue and turn ſo much of baſe Mettals with ſo little charge and travel, and ſo great return and gain as we have promiſed. It is for three cauſes: Firſt, for the fitneſs and readineſs of the ſtuffe to be changed; and then for the great ſtore and ſtrength of the changing workman; (to ſend away the lighteſt ſtill firſt and foremoſt:) And laſtly, for his encreaſe in ſtore and quantity, which may be made either by ſowing or nouriſhing the Son of Gold without end and number, for ſowing firſt.

There be ſundry ſorts of ſowing and making this our Medicine: One is an excellent way, but a bare and naked and lone way; becauſe if Gold can be made open and fit to be wrought, as behoves a ſeed within himſelf; and the leſs contagion there is of unclean ſtuffe, the more excellent and mighty will he riſe again. This way, by deep and painful Wits hath been ſometimes taken, but very ſeldom, becauſe it is very hard, long, and irkſome, and therefore we will leave it alſo: but chiefly becauſe it croſſeth my purpoſe aboveſaid; for if he be ſowen alone, he cannot riſe encreaſed, whereas we deſire to augment his heap and quantity. Then there are two kindes of Grounds, and yet both one kinde, which we may put unto him to corrupt him eaſily, and raiſe him again with encreaſe in quantity. One nearer his Nature then another, one better then another; ſo much is enough for that. Now for the ſtore of ground fit to be laid about him, there is a choice better or worſe alſo: But that is no great matter, ſo you keep the meaſure and diſcretion which a common ^[505] Seeds-man can keep, neither to overlay and drown him, nor to leave him dry and barren. Then to our purpoſe.

Caſt with your ſelf what encreaſe in ſtore one grain of Corn will yield within a few times ſowing. When I had a little leaſure, I did once caſt what one grain, by the encreaſe of fifty, (which happens often) would ariſe to in ſeven times ſowing, and I wearied my ſelf in an endleſs matter. A greater Summe then any Man would think: I have forgotten it, ^[506] caſt you that have leaſure. Now a Grain, I mean an Ounce of our Seed, though it riſeth not with ſuch advantage (for if it were ſo ſown. it would be quite drowned, ^[507] or at leaſt not worth the tarrying) yet it rewards it another way with ſpeed in working, for albeit the firſt time be much alike, about fourty weeks, or ſuch a matter; yet the ſecond is run much ſooner, both becauſe now he is ſofter then the firſt ſeed, and eaſier to be looſened, and alſo mightier and more able to turn the work over, ^[508] ſo that if we keep our ſelves within the Number of ten ^[509] as ſome do ſet the bounds, (yet I think the midſt between ^[510] duplum and decuplum a notable mean, although that be as it happeneth) yet by this great haſte and ſpeed, we may quickly overtake Infinity.

^[511] But if you think this to be too ſlow a courſe, let us run to the next encreaſe by Nouriſhment, whoſe great ſpeed and readineſs will eaſily ſupply all, and fill the biggeſt deſire in the world.

^[512] After the Son of Gold hath been once ſowen and raiſed again, he is now able to work mightily and not before, and to turn a hundred parts of his due meat, into a third middle thing Gold his fathers nature: this we will ſhew hereafter. Then, if he be able to turn a hundred times as much half way, he can ſure turn as eaſily and quickly one part, that is no more then himſelf quite through into his own ſelf ſame Nature, eſpecially if that Food be Silver or Gold, which is beſt of all to that purpoſe: then is he twice as big, and as ſtrong as he was before, able to devour as much more, and all this as much again, and ſo for ever; for his ſtrength ſhall never be abated, when after his feeding, he is left the ſame ſtill: even as one ^[513] Candle lights another ſtill, or more ſtrangely, though not ſo largely, like unto the Load-ſtone, which as ^[514] Plato reporteth, after it hath drawn one Ring of Iron, it giveth this power to draw another, and this to the next, until you make a long row and link of Rings, cloſe and faſt, one hanging upon another.

Then ſith we may ſo ſoon heap up ſo great a quantity of this Golden Medicine, it may chance we ſhould not need any great help of the readineſs of the ſtuffe, and ſtrength of the Workman. And if but ten parts of the Gold might be made at once, between a week workman, and a ſturdy ſtuffe, yet perhaps it would ſerve the turn to raiſe the Sum appointed. But ſuppoſe it cometh ſhort ten parts of the way, yet if through the means of the nearneſs of the ſtuffe, and force of the doer, one part may come to turn a hundred, then we ſhall ſupply and overtake all the want and hinderance; let us ſee.

And firſt again of the ſtuffe, becauſe it is the ſhorter and eaſier matter; a thing is fit and eath to be changed, when it is like to the nature of the workman, and near the wayes end. The ſtrait affinity and nearneſs of the Mettals one to another we have opened above, ^[515] when we found them all to be one thing, differing onely by certain Hang-byes of cleanneſs, fineneſs, cloſeneſs and colour, ſprung out from the adds of Concoction; and that, if the ſame Concoction hold, they will come at length to their journeys end, which they ſtrive unto, the perfection of Gold, (except, perhaps, Iron and Copper by over-ſudden heat, or ſome other foul means, have been led out of the way, yet they may be led back again, and cleanſed as we heard before:) and that they were all made at firſt of Quickſilver, a foul and greaſie thing in reſpect, and then were grimed and beſpotted greatly again with that foul earthly Brimſtone, which after wards came upon them, whereby they were all groſs and ill-coloured, open and ſubject unto fire, and other ſpoiling enemies, before by long gentle and kindly Concoction, all the foul and groſs ſtuffe was cleanſed and refined, and ſo made apt to take good colour (as we ſee in Plants and all things) and to gather it ſelf up cloſe together, and likewiſe to be weighty, for the much fine ſtuffe in a narrow room (when Lead and ^[516] Quick-ſilvers heavineſs floweth from the rawneſs) and laſtly to be ſtedfaſt and ſafe from the fire, and all other enemies, becauſe there was neither any way of entrance, in ſo great cloſeneſs, left, to make diviſion and diſſolution, that is deſtruction; nor yet any greaſie ſtuffe the food of fire, remaining.

Wherefore we ſee the near Neighbourhood of Mettals, and eaſineſs to be changed one into another (eſpecially if we work upon ſilver, which is half Gold already) when they want nothing of Gold, but either long gentle concoction, or inſtead thereof (becauſe we cannot tarry) a ſtrong and fierce one anſwerable unto it; firſt to cleanſe out all that groſs and greaſie ſtuffe, and then to bring colour upon it.

So that I cannot but wonder at thoſe Men, if they be learned, who, in reproof of this Art unknown, vouch unfitneſs of the ſtuffe to be changed, ſaying, that Mettals being of ſundry kindes and natures, cannot be turned before they be brought into that ſtuffe whereof they were firſt made and faſhioned; which we do not when we melt them, onely, and which is not eath to be done. It is a fign that, either they never knew, or at that time remembred not the Nature of a Mettal, or of the firſt ſtuffe; for if they mean the Grecian ^[517] ſuppoſed, firſt, empty, and naked ſtuffe, without ſhape, but apt to receive all, even that which is the middle ^[518] ſtate of a thing laſting but a moment, when b[•] the way of making and marring (which our Men with Hypocrates well changeing) it is paſſing from one to another. Then if I yielded, and quickly granted, with Geber, Arnold, Lully, and many more learned Men on our ſide, that in that very violent work of changing; the Mettal being a far altered and broken, even into duſt of another faſhion, was quite marred and bereft of his old Nature and being, and paſſed even through the midſt of the naked ſtuffe, unto another kinde and faſhion: I think I might drive them to blow the ſeek, as they ſay, and they know not what to anſwer.

But if they mean, as it ſeems they do, we ſhould not melt our Mettal, but bring him back again unto his neareſt beginning and ſtuff[•] Quickſilver, and then put on our ſhape, and form upon him, according to the kindely ſowing of Gold upon his baſe ground aboveſaid, they are deceived not knowing the nature of Mettals: for they be not of ſundry ^[519] kindes and beings, (as they ſay) but all one thing, differing by degrees of baking, like divers loaves of our paſte; that it were madneſs, if any of them lacked baking, to lead him back ^[520], or mar and ſpoil him of his faſhion, but in the ſame form and being to bake him better. And ſo did Nature in the Ground, in baking Quickſilver or Lead into Gold, ſhe went forward and not backward with the Matter: Nay, why go I ſo far with them? They never marked the nature of their own Words, which they uſe in their own Phyloſophy, where changing is flitting onely, and ſhift of thoſe Hang▪byes called Accidents, the form, kinde, and being of the thing remaining.

Then, if the ſtuff be ſo fit, let us ſee what the Worker is, not in ſtore which is done already, but in force and power. His ſtrength and power is ſeen in two things, purging and colouring; for firſt he muſt mightily ſhew himſelf in purging and driving out all the groſs greaſineſs of the ſtuffe, and then when all is fine, clear, and cloſe, he ought to ſtretch himſelf at large, and to ſpread far forth in colour upon it; for albeit long and gentle purging by Concoction, of it ſelf, breeds and brings good colour, yet this our ſhort and violent heat proportioned doth not ſo, (as I ſhewed above in the diſcourſe of binding and colouring) but muſt needes bring Colour with him already Coyned.

So that when he purgeth the ſtuff under-hand, he draweth not out the foul and groſs ſtuff, and departs away from the work withal, as the foul purging Binders did; but being a clean and fine thing like the Nature of a Wight, he purgeth by Digestion and Expulſion, driving out the foul and unlike parts as Leavings, taking and imbodying with himſelf the fine and clean for her Food and Nouriſhment.

Then let us ſee how this work of Purging is performed, for that is all; and the Colour hangeth upon the ſame, and is done all under one, as we ſhall hear in the going out of this Treatiſe: If nothing purgeth but Heat through concoction, and this is ever to be meaſured according to the need & behoof of the Work underhand; and we muſt ſcour an hundred times as much ſtuff in one, or two, or three hours ſpace at moſt, (for that is their task) when we had need of a marvellous fiery Medicine (beſides the great outward Heat to prick him forward) ſcarce to be-found within the compaſs of the World and Nature. It muſt ſhew it ſelf an hundred times fiercer then a Binder, which was ſcant able in longer time, and ſtronger heat, to ſcoure and purge one part, and as much of the ſame ſtuff.

This is a marvellous hard point; I had need whet my Thoughts and Memory, and all the Weapons of Wit unto this matter. If we ſearch all about, & rifle all the Corners of Kind, we ſhall find no Fire in the world ſo hot and fierce as the Lightning, able to kill Plants, and Wights, & melt Mettals, and to perform other ſuch like marvellous things in a Moment: As (to let paſs Plants not ſo ſtrange) I have read ^[521] of eight Reapers in the Iſle of Lemnos, which as they ſat at meat under an Oak, were all ſuddainly ſtrucken ſtark dead therewith, ſitting ſtill in the ſame guiſe of living and eating Creatures. Again, that it hath ſometimes paſſed ^[522] through a Purſe at a Mans ſide, and molten the Coyne without hurting the leather, becauſe ſuch a ſubtile and ſpeedy Fire found that reſting ſtay ^[523] to work on in the Mettal, which it wanted in the open ſoft and yeilding Leather; And many moe ſuch ſtrange deeds we may finde done by that moſt violent Fire. Then our fiery workman, if he be tasked, as he is, to work as great wonders as theſe be, had need to be fierce and vehement as the fire of Lightning, as it is alſo ſometime termed in our Philoſophy.

Let us match theſe two together, and ſee how they can agree, that all things nearly laid, and as it were, ſtrucken together, the light of Truth may at laſt appear, and ſhine forth out of that Compariſon: let us, as Tully ſaith, and doth, at the firſt ſetting out, lanch and row a little eaſily, before we hoyſe up ſail.

Gold, in our Phyloſophy, is of it ſelf a Fire, that if it be raiſed and encreaſed an hundred degrees in quality (as it muſt be) may well ſeem like to prove the greateſt Fire in the World. But our Men as they ſpeak all things darkly, ſo this perhaps ^[524] in regard of other Mettals; or rather becauſe like the Salamander; No, like the Fire-flyes (for though ^[525] the Salamander can, as well as Serpents Eggs, by his extreme coldneſs quench a little Fire, yet a ſtrong ^[526] Fire conſumes him, and puts him out of being:) becauſe, I ſay, like the Fier-fly he doth live and flouriſh in the Fire: when as, indeed, ^[527] Gold, as all other Mettalls, is cold and wateriſh far from the kinde of Fire. And yet it is not the outward ſhew of the Body alone that makes a fiery Nature, but ſometimes the inward quality doth the deed of Fire, (if we ſpeak at large, as the common cuſtome is;) And ſo the Star-fiſh in the Sea (a) burns ^[528] all ſhe toucheth; and a cold ſpring in ^[529] Slavonia ſets on fire any Cloath ſpread upon it; and to come nearer, by ſuch a fiery force doth the water Styx in Theſſaly pierce through any Veſſel ſave a Horſe-hoof.

But now we are come into the deep, let us hoyſe up ſails, and ſpeak more properly and Philoſophically, and more near the purpoſe; let us, I ſay, hear the Nature of Fire and how it cometh. Fire, as they bound it, and we ſhall finde it if we marke his Off-ſpring, is a very hot and dry Subſtance: The firſt cauſe of Fire is Motion, gathering and driving much dry ſtuff, into a narrow ſtrait, which by ſtirring and ſtriving for his life and being, is ſtill made more cloſe, fine, and hot, then its Nature will bear and ſuffer; and ſo it breaketh out at laſt, and is turned into another larger, and thinner, dryer, and hotter nature, called Fire: Hence the great under-ground Fires in Aetna, Hecla, and many other places, grow and ſpring at firſt, when the Cold driveth a heap of hot earthly Breaths and Vapours, either round up and cloſe together, or along through the narrow and rough places, rubbing and ringing out Fire, which the natural fatneſs of the Ground feeds for ever.

So the Star, called ^[530] Hellen-ſtar, that lights, (a ſigne ſo dangerous) upon the tackle of the Ship, and falling melts Copper Veſſel, &c. cometh of a heap of ſuch Vapours, carried up by croſs windes, &c. So by rubbing Milſtones, Flints, and ſuch like, we ſee Fire ariſe after the ſame manner; and this is the manner of the Off-ſpring of all Fire, others flow from this one, ſtill ſowing, as it were, one another. But if the ſtuff of this Fire be tough and hard, and then when it is wrought into Fire, it be moved again apace, it proveth, for theſe two cauſes, a marvellous hot, fierce, and and violent fire, whence ſpringeth all the force of Lightnings, for it is nothing elſe but a heap of thick and Brimſtony vapours, (as ſome hold with Reaſon) by the coldneſs of the Cloud beaten up cloſe in that Order, and now being turned of a ſudden into a larger and thinner Element than it was before, when it was Earth and Water, his old place will not hold him, and ſo by the force of Nature, ſtriving for room and liberty, he rents the Clouds in that manner which we hear in Thunder, and burſteth out at laſt a great and ſwift pace, as we ſee in Lightning, which ſwiftneſs together with the toughneſs of the ſtuff finely wrought, makes up his violence, above all Fires in the world.

Now for the Son of Gold and Hermes his Medicine, what kinde of Fire is he, when he can be no ſuch Elemental extreme hot and dry Fire? for he is temperate and hath all the qualities equal, and none working above other; and yet, indeed, by reaſon of the fine and tough (and therefore) mighty Body whereon they be ſeated, they work in equality together, much more forcibly then the extremely diſtempered, cold and dry Poyſons can work alone, and as faſt and faſter then they devour and deſtroy temporate bodies, theſe do overthrow the contrary: Then what a Fire he is I ſhewed before, how full ſtuft with Heavenly ſpirits above all things, and ſo he is a Heavenly fire, which is much more effectual in power, and mightier in action then that other, by reaſon of his exceeding ſubtileneſs, able to pierce through Rocks and all things, where that other ſhall quickly ſtay.

Admit it, ſay you, if that Heavenly fire were quick, free, and at full liberty: But it is faſt bound up in a hard Body; Then I will tell you all the Reaſon, bend your Wits unto it.—Gold, at firſt was full fraughted with the moſt piercing fire in the World; Art then came and wrought it into a moſt fine flowing Oyl, and ſo unbound it, and ſet it at full liberty; Not ſo freely indeed as in Heaven, but as can be an Earthly body, cloſely crowded up together, (which helps Heat, as we hear in a burning-glaſs) upon a moſt ſtrange and mighty Body, far above all things in the world; and laſtly, with a violent outward Fire, ſhe ſent all theſe a part away to work together. Judge then, you that have Judgement, whether it were not like to beſtir it ſelf, as luſtily as the Lightning? Compare; The Heat of the hot ſpirits is as great; and if it were not, yet their paſſing ſubtileneſs, would requite that matter eaſily, and make him even; yea and perhaps, when they be drawn and carried up cloſe together, make ſome odds and difference between them; But ſure the exceeding toughneſs of the Body (as we ſee in Iron & the reſt) augments his heat greatly, and carrieth him far beyond it.

Now for the pace, it is much ſwifter, as driven by a much ſtronger Mover, even ſo much as a Founders Fire paſſeth in ſtrength the top of a thick Cloud, for this is he that ſends the Lightning, which elſe would have flown upwards. Therefore becauſe the fire is ſtronger, and hath the helps of Body and Motion far more favourable, the fire of the Son of Gold muſt needs paſs the Lightning in power and wonderful working. Then bethink your ſelf, with what eaſe and ſpeed, ^[531] ſuch a fiery Medicine were likely to pierce and break through, ſift and ſearch all about, and ſo ſcour and cleanſe a great Maſs of foul Mettals? how many times more then a weak and groſs Mineral binder? faſten and bend your Mindes upon it: we ſee how a weak, wateriſh and earthly Breath in a narrow place, within a Cloud, the Gramide, or Gunne, (all is but ^[532] Thunder) becauſe he is ſo ſuddenly turned into a larger Element, and lacketh room, beſtirs himſelf and worketh marvellous deeds; what may we think then of the heaps of thoſe fat vapours of Heaven, and of that moſt ſtrong golden body, cloſely couched up together in a little room, when they be, in a narrow Veſſel drawn out, and ſpread abroad at large by a mighty fire, and thereby ſtill pricked and egged forward? (for as long as the fire holdeth, they cannot be ſtill, nor draw in themſelves again.) What thing in the ſturdieſt Mettal can be able to withſtand them? How eaſily ſhall they caſt down all that comes in their way, break and bruiſe all to powder? May we not all ſay plainly, that which the ^[533] Poet by borrowed ſpeech avoweth, That Gold loveth to go through the midſt of the Guard, yea and p[•]ſs through the Rocks, being more mighty than the ſtroak of Lightning? It is ſo fit as if it had been made for the matter.

I have heard that the extreme cold weather in ^[534] Lappia and Finland (which lie under the pinny Girdle of the World pierceth frezeth, and cracketh the Rocks, yea, and mettalline Veſſels: Again, that the poiſoned Cockatrice, by ^[535] his violent, Cold, and dry Breath, doth the ſame on the Rocks where he treadeth: Then what may we judge of the force of our fiery Medicine upon the Mettals, by theſe compariſons? How fiercely and quickly were it like to divide & bre[•]k them, having an extreme fire, the greateſt ſpoiler of all things, to over-match the cold & dry quality; & a much ſtronger Body then thoſe vapors which carried th[•]ſe former qualities, and both theſe ſent with far greater ſpeed and ſwiftneſs, as appears in the difference of the Movers?

Lift up your Ears and mark what I ſay; A deaf Judge had not need hear theſe Matters, who hath not ſeen how Quickſilver enters, cuts, and rents the Mettals, though many doubt, and differ about the cauſe thereof? ^[536] Cardan thinks, that, like as we ſaid of the cold Weather in thoſe frozen Countries, ſo this marvellous cold Mettalline water, entring the Mettals, freezeth their Moyſture within them, and makes them crack and fall aſſunder, and therefore Gold ſooneſt of all other, becauſe his moiſture is fineſt: even as ſodden-water for his fineneſs, freezeth ſooner then cold.

Surely very wittily ^[537] Paracelſe deems this done by the Spiritual ſubtilty of the Body, even as the underſtanding Spirits of the Air, and the lively Spirits of Heaven uſe to pierce through stone walls, and Rocks by the ſame ſtrength, without the force of qualities: But I think it is rather for his ſtronger like Nature; ſeeking to devour them; elſe he would pierce you hand, and leather, and ſuch like eaſie things, which he leaveth untouched, as unlike and ſtrangers. As for the qualities of Quickſilver, it is a queſtion what they are, and which excelleth; ſome judge her very Cold; ſome again marvellous hot (as Paracelſe for one;) ſome moſt moiſt; other dry: But, as ſhe hath them all apparantly, ſo I deem her Temperate, like him that hath ſprung from her, and is moſt like unto her, Gold I mean, though perhaps the qualities be not all in her, as in him, ſo equally ballanced.—But let the Cauſe be what it will, (I love not to ſettle upon uncertain matters,) the great Spirit of Mettals, after ſhe is firſt wrought into Gold, and then into his Son our Medcine, ſhall be in any reaſon, both for Soul & Body, an hundred times ſtronger, and more able to do it. Nay, Antimony and Lead are much groſſer then Quickſilver, and yet we ſee how they rend and tear and conſume baſe Mettals even to nothing. But what ſay we to Plants? there is as great difference in ſharpneſs and ability to pierce, and enter between them and minerals, as is between a Thorn and a Needle; and yet you hear above, the gentle Plant of the Vine and the milde Dew of Heaven yielded ſtuff to an eating water, able, within three or four diſtillings to devour and diſſolve mettals.—Then what ſhall not onely other ſharp mineral eaters, but this our almighty Golden medicine ſhew upon them, which beſides that wonderful paſsing ſharp and piercing Body, hath the great help (which they want) of that Heavenly fire, and of his ſwiftneſs, ſtirred up by a mighty Mover. Theſe things are enough to ſuffice any reaſonable man, (if they will not ſtop their ears againſt the ſound of Reaſon) touching the power, might, and ſtrength of our Medicine.

What is then behinde? Yes many, I heard them whiſper, that albeit this Stone of ours hath ſuch thundring power, yet it may not force to our purpoſe, conſuming all the Mettal (as the guiſe and forcible uſe of ſo fierce things is) without regard or choice of any part or portion: But it is not alwayes I hope, the guiſe of violent things; I need not go far: There is a natural ſtone in ^[538] Aſia, which by a mighty and ſtrong property ueth, in forty dayes ſpace, to conſume and make away all the fleſh and bones of a dead mans body, ſaving the Teeth, which he leaveth ever ſafe and whole, and therefore they called it in times paſt ([〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]) Fleſh-eater, and made Tombs thereof for dead, and Boots for Gowty men.—I could cloy a world of Readers with like examples, if I might be ſuffered: But weigh this one and our artificial Stone together, why may not it as well have his choice, and ſave a part in this great waſte and ſpoiling? They know not why: And how then, there are many deep, hidden and cauſeleſs properties in the boſom of kinde and nature, which no mans wit is able to reach and ſee into, the World is full of them, when Art is open, and all his wayes known.

Indeed, the World is full of late, of ſuch cauſeleſs and blinde Phyloſophers, which (like as the ^[539] Poet, when they ſtick a little, call upon Jove by many names, to help to ſhore up the fall of a verſe, or ſtop a gap in the number; ſo they) when their eyes are dazled upon the view of a deep matter, fly to Nature as faſt, and to her ^[540] hid and unſearchable Secr[••]s to cover the ſhame of Ignorance: as though GOD moved all with his finger (as they ſay) without any [•]ween means or inſt[•]uments.—There is nothing done without a middle cauſe, fore running, if it were known, (as I think it is to ſome, though never ſo dark and hid from others) and therefore to come to the purpoſe, as the reaſon of the natural eating Stone was clear to ^[541] Agricola, (though unknown to Pliny, and many moe the Reporters) and found to be for the looſe and light temperature of his Body, apt to drink up Moiſture, and Coppreſs nature, fit to eat the fl[•]ſh and ſofter bones, and yet unable to do a thing above his ſt[•]ength, that is, to overcome the harder. Even ſo you may think the reaſon in this like property of the PHILOSOPHERS STONE, is ſeen to ſome; and certain, howſoever it was my luck to ſee it I cannot tell, it hath been ſure unfolded twenty times, at leaſt in the ſpeech going before, if you remember well; it followeth but the high and common way of all nature, I mean that eating nature; for all things eat, and that is the cauſe of things done below: Then, there is nothing eats and devours all the ſtuff which it overcometh but ſo much as is like, and turnable, the reſt he leaveth as ſtrange and untouchable. So did all the foul binders purge above; nay, ſo and no otherwiſe doth the Lightning and all fire eat and conſume the ſtuffe ſubdued, turning the Air and Water into fire, and leaving the Earth and Aſhes; even ſo doth our Medicine, after it hath driven out and ſcattered all uncleanneſs, it takes and ſticks unto the fine part, like unto it ſelf, and makes it like himſelf, as far as his ſtrength will carry.

What need I pray in aid of any moe examples? Is it not clear enough, that all things ſeek their likes, and ſhun their Contraries? Yet becauſe theſe Mineral Matters have been evermore very ſtrange and unacquainted with the Grecians, I will ſet down one or two of the clearer examples. Why doth Coppreſs water part and draw away Silver from Gold? But, that Coppreſs is like to Copper, and this to Silver; for as ^[542] Lead is to Gold, ſo is this to Silver, both very like one another, both in weight and ſoftneſs, and therefore counted Leprous Gold and Silver.—For try all of both together; when you have ſo parted Gold and Silver, caſt in plates of Lead and Copper, and that will cleave to the Gold, and this ^[543] to the Silver. But Silver is liker to Silver than Copper, therefore to part Silver from Copper; the Miners uſe to ſeaſon a lump of Lead with a little Silver, that ſoftneth the work and maketh it ready; then one Silver draweth the other part unto her. Nay, view Quickſilver, ^[544] as ſhe is ſtrange in all things, ſo in this ve[•]y wonderful: Quickſilver, I ſay, the Grandmother of our medicine, and the ſpring of all her goodneſs, will quickly receive and ſwallow, either in heat or cold; her near friend and very like, clean, fine, and temperate body of Gold, (and therefore as the one is termed unripe Gold, ſo the other ripe Quickſilver) when the reſt ſhe refuſeth, and beareth aloof, as foul, groſs, and unlike her Nature; and this ſecret the miners alſo, by their practice, have opened unto us, when they ſo part Gold from the reſt maſhed altogether in a duſt heap.—Wherefore when this fine and clean body Quickſilver, is made by Nature and Art, yet much finer and clearer, and again as much more piercing and Spiritual, and able to perform it, how much more readily will ſhe run to her like and devour it, the clean, fine, and ſpiritual, that is, the Quickſilvery part of the Mettal? And if ſhe do devour it, then it cannot be loſt, but muſt needs go into a better Nature, even the Nature which we deſire.

What is then to be ſaid more? I have not yet bounded the matter, as I promiſed, and ſhewed how the Golden Stone ſhould turn an hundred times as much into Gold; I have ſhot a large compaſs, but all at random, now it is time enough, every thing hath his due time and place.

You have heard I am ſure, of the hot Stomach of the Elephant, Lizard, and Sea-calf, able to digeſt and conſume Stones, yea, and to come to the point, the Struthio [Eſtridge] that marvellous Beaſt, Iron alſo; If the ſtomach of a Wight be able in ſhort ſpace, to divide, expel, & turn the fine part of the Mettal into his own ſelf ſame nature, how much and how ſoon, may the Stomach of our Medicine turn into Gold? not onely an hundred times more then the Beaſt, becauſe it is an hundred times more fitter and able to do it: firſt, for the likeneſs and nearneſs of the ſtuff; and then for ^[545] the two great Heats I ſpake of; and thirdly, for the wonderfull, ſubtile, and ſtrong piercing and cutting Workman. But eſpecially, becauſe he goeth not quite though with the work, as the Beaſts did, but half way to the middle nature of his Father: conſider and weigh the matter, but if it be ſomewhat too far off, ^[546] mark how Wood, and other things of like ſtrange gifts & qualities, are eaſily able to overcome & change a hundred times ſo much of like Stuff, with whom they meet, even without this our great mingling and boiling: why ſhall it then be hard for our Medicine, with great Concoction, to do the like upon his own ſubject? for proportion of ſtrength, for ſtrength will allow him as able to overcome the ſtubborn Mettals, as theſe two the weaker Water.

To cloſe up all; Remember what I ſaid, and what is moſt true and certain, that Gold is cloſeſt, and moſt full of fine large-ſpreading ſtuffe, of any thing elſe in the World, paſſing the wonderful gift of Silver in this point an hundred-fold; Inſomuch that one Ounce of Gold, by the blunt skill of the Hammer, may be drawn out and made to ſtretch over ten acres of ground: Conſider well this one point, and all ſnall be plain and eaſie; I mean to them that be Learned, for theſe be no matters for dull and mazed Wits to think on: Then after this ſpreading Mettal is made a fine flowing Oyl, and drawn out at length, and laid out abroad moſt thinly, by a vehement heat of fire, upon how much will it ſpread may you think in reaſon? But ſuch a view may quickly dazle the Eye of the Underſtanding, let us picture out the matter as Plato uſeth.

Think the difference in fineneſs and colour, between the Sonne of Gold and Silver (if you will take him to turn, as I bad you) to be like the oddes between very fine red Sarcenet, and courſe white ſackcloth; let that be cloſely thruſt up together in a Walnut-ſhell, this packt up as hard in a very round Pot of a quart, or of that bigneſs, which will take the meaſure of a hundred VValnuts, you ſee the bulk of both; and ſo if you weigh them, one will prove as much an hundred times in weight as that other; but draw them out, and ſpread them abroad one upon another, and one ſhall overtake, match and fit another on all ſides; Now one is very courſe and big, and the other fine and ſmall, as appears by their threds; yet the ſmall may be full as ſtrong as the bigge, as we ſee in a litle Gall, Poyſon, &c. it is common: Then theſe two encountring (as we muſt ſuppoſe) ſhall, of force, hurt and change each other equally, & ſo the exceeding fine and groſs mingled, make a middle thred, and the extreme red and white colours, carried with their bodies take a Yellow mean alſo: even ſo you muſt think, when an hundred Ounces of ſilver, and one Ounce of our Medicine, are both by the Fire beaten and driven out at length, and to the fartheſt thinneſs, every part overtakes, fits and reacheth other, and the ſmall part being as ſtrong as the bigge, in ſtriving one overcomes, conſumes and turns the other, that neither ſhall be quite razed, but both equally changed, and mingled into a third Mean thing, both in fineneſs and colour, which is gold, for the Medicine is as far above gold, as this beyond Silver, both in fineneſs and colour, and all other properties whatſoever.

And ſo you ſee the Colour alſo diſpatched, which I kept unto this place, and which ſeemeth a wonder in ſome Mens ſights; for I hope you will not ask me how gold got this high red and unkindly colour; unleſs you be ignorant how all ſuch Hang-bies fleet and change up and down, without hurt unto the thing that carrieth them; and except you know not, ^[547] that by a kindly courſe (whereby all ſoft and alterable things, gently and ſoftly boyled, wax firſt black, then white, next yellow, and laſtly red, where they ſtay in the top of the Colour) we ſee changed and drawn up our ſeed of gold unto this new unwonted Colour.

And thus you have at laſt, all the Reaſon which I ſaw, or at leaſt, thought good to deliver to writing, for the truth of HERMES or the PHILOSOPHERS STONE, and MEDICINES, why it is the ready way to bring all Men to all the Bliſs and Happineſs in the VVorld; that is, to Long-life, Health, Youth, Riches, VViſdom and Virtue; it is now time to ſit down, and take our reſt.

CHAP. IV. That Gold may be wrought into ſuch a fine oyl as we ſpeak of.

BUt methinks I hear them mutter among themſelves, that there is never a Reaſon given as yet, no not one; becauſe all ſtanding upon a feigned and ſuppoſed ground, which being nothing, all that is built upon it muſt needs come to nothing.—For even as ^[548] Paracelſus in his ſuppoſed Paradiſe, in the end of his High opinions concludes, that if it were poſſible to be made by any Labour of Wiſdome, it would prove no doubt, a notable place for Long-life and Health; even ſo may be thought of this Stone of gold, if any Art or skill were able to contrive it, that it would without doubt, work thoſe wonders aforeſaid; But as his Paradiſe, (if he mean plainly as he ſayes, and not of the Philoſophers Stone, whereto it may be wreſted) is impoſſible to be made, unleſs he would include himſelf in a place free, firſt from the contagion and force of the outward Earth, Water, and Weather, yea and therefore of the Fire of Heaven and Light alſo: and ſecondly, ^[549] where all the Beginnings were in their pure and naked Nature, which they call a Fifth nature which is no where ſave in Heaven, and which were a Miracle to be conceived; And laſtly, except he could live without Meat and his Leavings, which both Learned and unlearned hold ridiculous to think.

Even ſo, it is as hard in opinion and unlike, that Gold may be ſpoiled, and brought to nothing, (as he muſt be firſt) and then reſtored and raiſed to ſuch dignity; Becauſe as Heaven is ever one and unchangeable, for that in it all Beginnings are weighed ſo evenly, and ſurely tyed together in a full conſent, and unable ever to jarre and to be looſned; in like ſort Gold is ſo cloſe and faſt, for his ſure and equal mixture of his fine earth and water, that no force ^[550] of nature, neither of earth, air, or water, no nor of fire, although he be helpen with lead, antimony, or any ſuch like fierce and hot ſtomach, eaſily conſuming all other things, will ever touch him: nay, which is ſtrange, the greateſt ſpoylers in the world fire and his helpes are ſo far from touching him, that they ^[551] mend him, and make him ſtill better and better; what is to be ſaid to this?

Albeit I confeſs that to be the main ground and ſtay of all the work and building; yet I ſuppoſed it not, nor took it as granted, as if I had been in Geometry, but left it to be proved in the fitteſt place.—As for that ſuppoſed Paradiſe, it is hard to judge, becauſe he did but glance at it, and ſo leaves it unlawful to be told; Albeit a Man may deviſe in thought as well as he, (for I think he had not tryed it) what may be done, and what Nature will ſuffer.

Then, what if a Man incloſed himſelf in a pretty Chamber, free from all outward Influence, which is eaſie; overcaſt for lights ſake, if need be, with ſuch Marble as Nero made his temple ſhine in darkneſs withall; floored thick with Terra Lemn. or the Earth of a Fifth nature, (which is better, but much more hard to be gotten;) and had ſuch Water within the lodging, as that, ^[552] not long ſince found under ground, between two ſilver Cups in Italy; then if he could ever live quiet without Meat, (which I ſhewed not impoſſible, or preſerved himſelf with a Fifth nature, which breeds no Leavings; what think you of the matter?

But think what you will; If it jarre and ſound not well in the ears of any Man, let it be among other his incredible and impoſſible Monſters; yet our Cauſe ſhall not be the worſe for it, but eaſily poſſible, as I will open unto you, as far as my leave will ſuffer me, which hath been large indeed, and muſt be, becauſe I made a large promiſe at firſt, (perhaps too raſhly, but for the good meaning) which muſt be paid and performed.

^[553] Ariſtotle ſaith like a wiſe Philoſopher, that nature makes her Creatures and ſubjects apt to move and reſt, that is, changeable; and again, that a Body that is bounded, cannot be without end and everlaſting: And therefore, that when Heaven ever moveth, and Earth ever reſteth, it is beyond the compaſs of Nature, and ſprings from a more Divine cauſe. If his Rule be true, as it is moſt certain, then Gold a thing not unbounded, nor yet an extraordinary and divine work, but made by the ordinary hand of Kind, as we heard above, muſt needs decay and periſh again, and cannot laſt for ever: And if Nature can diſſolve him, much more ſhall ſhe with the help of Art performe it: And that which was ſaid of Fire, and his helpers is nothing, for why do they better Gold, but becauſe they remove his Enemies, when Nature? had ſecretly laid about him to deſtroy him; And ſo a very ſtick, as I ſaid above, may be ſaved from decay: But let nature have her ſwinge under Ground, or skil above, and they ſhall cauſe his enemies in time to ſpoil and conſume him. We cannot tell, (ſay they Country-like) it may be a divine and no natural work, for we ſee it everlaſting;—Go to, be it ſo: I will overtake them that way too; for as we know, that which Ariſtotle knew not, that both Heaven and Earth by the ſame divine cauſe that made them both, may be, and once muſt be, marred and changed; ſo we may think that Gold, although it were a divine work, yet by the like skill, following the divine Pattern, might fall to decay and periſh.

But what is that divine Pattern? & how ſhall men be like unto GOD? even by the goodneſs of God, who hath, as I ſaid above, left this Pattern open in al places, & eaſie to be ſeen, to them that ſeek to be like the main Pattern, ^[554] wherof wewere al made: And this, as HERMES ^[555] ſaith, is gentle & witty ſeparation, where with he avoweth both the great, & this our little work made & woven, and ſo to be marred and unwoven again; to figure unto us privily, that there is no great and cunning work performed by ſuch rude and ſmith-like violence, as you ſpeak of, (viz. ^[556] conſilii expers mole ruit ſua) but by gentle skill & Counſel; as we may ſee plainly fitly, by a thing in virtue and price, I mean in worldly eſtimation moſt near unto Gold, the noble and untamed ^[557] Diamond, which when he comes into the ſmiths hands, will neither yield to Fire nor Hammer, but will break this rather then he will break; and not ſo much as be hot (as Pliny ſaith) but not be hurt, (as they all grant) by that other: And yet by the gentle means ^[558] of Lions, or Goats blood, (though they be hot bloods, that by kind, and this by diſeaſe of a continual Ague) you may ſo ſoften and bring under this ſtout and noble ſtone, as he will yield to be handled at your pleaſure; Nay by the flowing Tears of molten lead (a thing not ſo hot as may be) he will quite relent and melt withal: Even ſo we may judge of Gold; That albeit the more roughly that it be handled, the leſs he ſtoops, as the nature of ſtout things is, yet there is a gentle and heavenly skill, and a way to ſoften him and make him willingly yield, and go to Corrruption; though this, as well as that, be not common and known abroad, as no reaſon it ſhould.

But what need we fly with Ariſtotle to any divine ſhelter? As Gold was made by a common courſe of Kind, and muſt dye and periſh the ſame way; ſo this skill of ours needs not be fetched from any hid and divine ſecret, (whatſoever our Men ſay, to keep off the unworthy) but from a plain Art, following the ordinary and daily ſteps of Nature in all her kindly works and Changes.—Then mark and chew my words well, and I will open the whole Art unto you.

^[559] GOD, becauſe he would have none of theſe lower Creatures eternal, (as is aforeſaid) firſt ſowed the four Seeds of ſtrife in the world, one to fight with and deſtroy the other; And if that would not ſerve, as it will not here, he made thoſe that ſpring from them of the ſame nature; and there is nothing in the world, ^[560] that hath not his match, either like or contrary, able to combate with him and devoure him. But the Like eats up and conſumes the like with more eaſe, and more kindly then the contrary, for their nearneſs and agreement.—Then, if nature mean to ſpoil Gold, and make him periſh, becauſe it is ſo ſtrong a thing, ſhe takes the neareſt and moſt kindly way, ſhe ſets a ſtrange Like upon him to eat him up and conſume him;—What ſhould I ſay more, or more plainly? you know the thing moſt like and neareſt unto him; This is, in all Mens ſight, corrupt and ſubject to decay, and then, when it is looſened very ^[561] ſtrong and fierce: It is ever more wrapt about him, and ſo by contagion it ſtrikes, and enters, and pulls him after; and all in their own natural heat and furnace, rot together, and in due time riſe again, and the ſame; for being all one in effect, as the ſeeds of Male and Female, it booteth not whether overcome in the end, and a new thing like the old, muſt needs ariſe, if ſome occaſion in the place (as I ſaid of Heat and Brimſtone) come not between and turne the courſe.

You have heard of Nature, let us now come to Art: If ſhe cannot follow thoſe ſteps of nature, ſhe is but a rude skill; Nay, ſhe muſt paſs them far if ſhe mean to take profit by the work, for albeit I deny not but all things may fall out ſo luckily, that our Sonne of Gold may ſtart up under ground, (though never found, for who would know it? yet nature may ſo eaſily fail in the choice ^[562] of the corrupting ground, but chiefly in tempering the degrees of her kindly heat, (without which the work will never ſee end) and again the lets are ſo many and ſo caſual, that perhaps we would be worne, before the work were finiſhed.

Then how ſhall Art her Counterfeit paſs this kindly Pattern very eaſily, by the underſtanding skill of a divine Mind, which I ſaid to paſs nature in her own works? firſt in chooſing the beſt ground and beſt proportionated for generation, which nature in this, reſpecteth not, as aiming at deſtruction onely; then in removing all Lets to come between; But eſpecially in well ordering that gentle and witty fire of HERMES, wherewith all the work is ſundered, that is, turned, altered and mingled.

But what is this Witty Fire? for here is all the hardneſs: here all the Work is blinded; All the reſt is eaſie: Bend your mindes I ſay, I will tell you all the Art: Encloſe the ſeed of Gold in a common, and yet kindly place: lo, here is all the Art; All the reſt is written to blinde and ſhadow this; ſo far as I may do good and avoid hurt, I will unfold this ſhort hid and dark matter, and yet Hermetically and Philoſophically.

^[563] As the Sun is the Father of all things, and the Moon his Wife the Mother, (for he ſends not down theſe begetting Beams immediately, but through the belly of the Moon) and this double Seed is carried in a Winde and Spirit into the Earth, to be made up and nouriſhed: ſo our ^[564] Sun hath his Wife and Moon, though not in ſundry Circles, but ^[565] Adam-like, and both theſe are carried in a Spirit alſo, and put into a kindely Furnace.

To be more plain, this Seed of Gold is his whole Body looſened and ſoftned with his own Water, (I care not how, but beſt with his beloved, for eaſe in working:) There is all your Stuff and Preparation. A very contemned trifle. Here is the Fire: this Belly is full of Blood of a ſtrange Nature; It is Earthy ^[566] and yet Watery, Aiery, and very Fiery: It is a Bath, it is a Dunghill; and it is aſhes alſo. And yet theſe are not common ones, but Heavenly and Philoſophical, as it becomes Philoſophers to deal with nothing, but Heavenly things.

Search then this rare kinde of Heat, for here is all the cunning: This is the Key of all; this ^[567] makes the ſeeds and bringeth forth: ſearch wiſely, and where it is; in the midſt of Heaven and Earth, ^[568] for it is in the middeſt of both theſe places, and yet but in one indeed.—You may think I croſs my ſelf, and know not what I ſay, but compare and look about, and you ſhall finde nothing proſper but in his own place.

Let then the ^[569] Dew of this Starry blood beat about the Womb, and your Seed ſhall joy and proſper, yet ſo much the better and ſooner alſo, if that Blood be whole and ſound, (u) and ſtanding of all his parts. Wherefore no marvel if the World miſſeth this Happy Stone, when they think to ^[570] make it above the Ground; I ſay they muſt either climbe up to Heaven, or go down deep within the Earth, for there and no where elſe is this kindely Heat.

Wights are heat with Blood, and Plants with Earth, but ^[571] Minerals with an Heavenly Breath: To be ſhort; becauſe Men are too heavy to mount up to Heaven, you muſt go down to the midſt of the Earth, and put your Seed into his Myne again, that he may take that Influence of Heaven equally round about him.

Muſe and conject well upon my Words, you that are fit and skill'd in Nature, for this is a very Natural Heat, and yet here all the World is blinded.—Nay indeed ^[572] if a man could read little and think much upon the wayes of Nature, he might eaſily hit this Art, and before that never.

What doth now remain? we have all the way to mar and ſpoil our Gold, and that was all the doubt, I trow, for if he be once down ſo kindly, he will riſe again ſure, or elſe all Nature will fail and loſe her cuſtome.—And if he riſe, he ſhall riſe ever in Vertue ten-fold encreaſed; I mean, if he be not imbaſed as the ſeeds of Plants and Wights are, and as the feed of Gold was by that baſe way aboveſaid, with the Ground that corrupteth it.

So if a poiſoned Plant or Wight be rotted in a Glaſs, ſhe will riſe again a moſt Venemous Beast, and perhaps a Cockatrice, for that is her Off-ſpring. Corrupt in like ſort a good Plant, and it will prove ^[573] a Worm, or ſuch like, with much encreaſed Vertue. What is the Reaſon? Becauſe the ſame temper and meaſure of the qualities ſtill riſeth in power, as the Body is refined, and the groſs ſtuff that hindereth the working, ſtript of the Lets of Body, ^[574] and all the qualities ſhall be raiſed equally, and ſhall work mightily, devour and draw things to their own Nature, more then any thing elſe; becauſe they be not onely free, and in their clean and naked Naturè, but alſo ſeated upon a moſt ſubtile and tough Body, able to pierce, divide and ſubdue all things.

Again, both Mettals and ſtones, the more heat they have, (as in hotter Countreys) the finer and better; and therefore the oftner, they be brought back to their firſt matter, and baked with temperate heat, the more they increaſe in goodneſs.

And if he be brought to ſuch a temperate fineneſs, that is, to ſuch an Heavenly Nature; then he keeps no longer the nature of a mettal, in reſpect of any quality, ſave the laſtingneſs of the Body; nor of any other groſs meat nor Medicine; and therefore he cannot be an Enemy to our Nature, nor yet need any Ordinary digeſtion in our Body, but ſtraitwayes flies out, as I ſaid before, and ſcours moſt ſwiftly through all the parts of the Body, and by extraordinary means and paſſages, as well as Nature her ſelf; and ſo coyneth with our firſt moyſture, and doth all other good deeds, belonging to this BLISS of Body, in ſuch ſort, and better, then I have ſhewed you of a fifth-nature.

And ſo Eraſtus, and all other ſlanderous mouths may now begin again, for there is not a word ſpoken to any purpoſe, becauſe all runneth upon a falſe and unknown ground. A wiſe man would firſt have known the Nature of the thing he ſpeaketh of, if he meant not to move Laughter to them that hear him, and know the matter.

But indeed, theſe Railers are ſafe enough, becauſe theſe things are ſo hid and unknown to the World, that no man, but one of their Houſhold, can eſpy them or controul them. Therefore I took in hand this hard and dangerous labour, which all other of our Anceſtors have refuſed, both that they might be aſhamed of their wrongful ſlanders, and the wiſe, and Well-diſpoſed ſee and take profit by the Truth of ſo great a Bleſsing.

If they ever finde it let them thank GOD, and uſe it, as no doubt they will, to do good to good men, If I have ſlipt in Words or Truth of matter, let them think how common it is among men, and weigh the good and bad together. Or elſe ^[575] Homer himſelf, when he ſlips now and then, could never eſcape it; and yet he was in an eaſie matter, (A Man may fain for ever) and had Orpheus and Muſaeus, I think, before him. But you ſee the hardneſs of this ſtuff, although my Pattern you do not ſee, becauſe it is not to my knowledge, in the World to be ſcen. But what care I? Theſe Men whom I regard will take all things well, and then the reſt I paſſed by long ſince unregarded.

FINIS▪

All glory be ever and onely to him that is, that was, and that is to come, Amen, Amen, Amen.

Marginal notes

1. Cic. Offic. lib. 1. ↩
2. Terent. Prolog. in Andr. & Plat. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. ↩
3. Pind. Olym. Od. 5. & Iſthm. Od. 5. ↩
4. Cicer. de Nat. Deor. lib. 1. ↩
5. Plat. in Philaeb. ↩
6. Plat. in Timaet. ↩
7. Ariſtot. Ethic. lib. 10. cap. 7. & 8. ↩
8. Cicer. de Nat. Deor. lib. 2. ↩
9. Plato in Timaeo. ↩
10. Ariſt. Polit. lib. 7. cap. 1. ↩
11. Plato N. I. ↩
12. Ariſt. Pol. lib. 7. cap. 3. ↩
13. Ariſt. Polit. l. b. 2. cap. 7. ↩
14. Plato in A[•]cibiad. primo, ſub fin[•]m. ↩
15. Ariſt. Eth. lib. 10 c. 8. ↩
16. Polit. lib. 7. cap. 1. ↩
17. Hom. Ill. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. v. 142. Ariſt. E[•]hic. lib. 2. cap. ult. ↩
18. Plato in Euthydem. ↩
19. Ariſt. lib. De inceſſu animal. & Hiſtor. animal. lib. 1. c. 15. ↩
20. Cicer. de Nat. Deor. lib. 2. & Plat. de leg. lib. 7. prope finem. ↩
21. Cic. de Nat. Deor. lib. 1. ↩
22. Diog. Laer. vita Xenocrat. ↩
23. Plat. de Repub. Dial. 6. ↩
24. Cic. de Nat. Deor. lib. 1. ↩
25. Cic. Acad. quaeſt. lib. 4. ↩
26. Copernicus, G[•]lbertus, Campanella, Gallilaeus, Wrightus. ↩
27. Cicer. de Divin. lib. 2. ↩
28. P[•]t. Martyr Decad. 3. lib. 8. in p. 135. Et Tho: Campan. de ſenſu rerum, lib. 4. cap. 3. in p. 274. ↩
29. G. Agricol. de Nat. foſſil. lib. 5. cap. 3. ↩
30. G. Agricol. ubi ſupra. Et Serapio, & Olaus Magnus ap. Guil. Gilbert de Magnet. lib. 1. cap. 1. ↩
31. Aug. de Civit. D i, lib. 21. cap. 4. Plin. Nat. Hiſt. lib. 37. cap. 4. Jul. Solin. Polyb. cap. 65. Mar. Paling. in Scorp. Aurel. Aug. Chryſ. lib. 2. Albert. Mag. de reb. Met. lib. 2. c. 1. G. Agric. de Nat. foſſil. lib. cap. 9. Card. Cuſan. Epci. lib. 7. ↩
32. Plin. lib. 32. cap. 2. Ariſt. Hiſtor. anim. l. 2. c. 14. Plu[•]. Sympoſia, lib. 2. q. 7. ↩
33. Nich. Cauſinus Syntag. Elector. Symb. & Parabol. Hiſtor. p. 65. ↩
34. Vide Plat. Dial. 7. deRep. in princip. & Cicer. de Nat. Deor. lib. 2. ↩
35. Sen. de Provid. cap. 1. Scalig. Exer. 52. ↩
36. Geor. Piſid. de Mundi opiſi. verſ 983. Et Phile. de Animal. propriet. cap. 32. Exer. cap. 93. ↩
37. Severin. Dan. Idaea Med. Phil. ca. 1. ↩
38. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] Plat. Polit. 9. ↩
39. Comment. in Hermet. lib. de lap. Phyſ. ſecret. cap. 2. Theat. Chym. vol. 4. ↩
40. Plin. Nat. Hiſt. l. 7. c. 52. ↩
41. Plato in Phaedro. ↩
42. Plato in Alcibiad. 1. & Mens cujuſque is eſt quiſque. Cic. in Som. Scip. ↩
43. Cic. Paradox. 1. ↩
44. Ariſt. Ethic. lib. 10. cap. 7. ↩
45. Suidas in [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. & Coel. Rhod. l. b. 7. cap. 2. & Panciroll. Tit. de Alch[•]m. & M. Mayer, Symb. au[•]. mens, lib. 1. & P. Diacon. vit. Diocleſ. Caeſ. & Oroſ. l▪ b. 17. cap. 16. ↩
46. Sen. lib. de Brevit. vit. c. 13 ↩
47. Plato in Tim. & Ariſt. Metaph. lib. 1. c. 2. ↩
48. Lib. de Coelo per tot. & lib. 2. c. 1. Excuſatur a B. Kecker. Syſt. Phyſ. l. 7. Verum condemnatur a Pbil. lib. de Mund. Incorrupt. ↩
49. Ocell. Luca. cap. 2. ↩
50. Cor. Agrip. de Oc. Phil. lib. 1. c. 38. & Joſ. Quercet. Herm. med. defenſ. l. 2. tract. de quinteſſ. & Gerard. Dorn. praef. ad Artif. ſupernat. T. C. Vol. 1. ↩
51. Ocell. Luc. c. 2. & Plat. Pol. 6. & 7. ſtat. ab initi[•]. & Fernel. de abdit. rerum cauſ. l. 1. c. 8. ↩
52. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Plat. in Tim. ↩
53. Fernel. ubi ſupra (e) ↩
54. Plato in Phaed. Plotin. Ennead. 4. l. 7. c. 9. ↩
55. Ariſt. de Anim. l. 2. c. 1. & Phyſ. c. 5. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉], De gen. [•]a[•]. 1. Vid. Simplic. ad Epict. En. c. 1 ↩
56. Tuſc. qu. l. b. 1. ↩
57. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Luc. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Excuſat. Cic. a Coel. Rhod. l. 2. c̄. 21. qui tamen acer[•]imè oppugnatur a Bart. K[•]ck. Syſt. phyſ. c. 9. ↩
58. Sever. Dan. Id. med. c. 9. ↩
59. Nuiſement tract. du ſal & de l'Esprit du Mond. l. 1. c. 5. ↩
60. Ariſt. Hiſt. An. l. 6. c. 2. ↩
61. Card. Subt. lib. 2. in p. 77. ↩
62. Card. ibid. & B. Kecker. Syſt. Phyſ. lib. 2. c. 10. & ap. eund[•]m. Joan. Pi[••]ier. lib. 4. var. meditat. c. 15. ↩
63. Joach. Curaeus de ſenſ. & ſenſib. lib. 1. cap. 18. & Ger. Dorn. Phil. chym. T. C. Vol. 1. ↩
64. Tab. Smaragd. ↩
65. Ocel. Lut. c. 2. ↩
66. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Hom. Il. 7. ↩
67. Ger. Dorn. in Phyſ. Triſm. T. C. Vol. 1. ↩
68. Card. Subt. lib. 2. ↩
69. Cor. Agripp. de Oc. Phil. l. 1. c. 14: & Marſ. Ficin. de vit. Coel. comp. l. 3. c. 3. & Fern. de abdit. rerum cauſ. l. 1. c. 10. ↩
70. Ovid. Met. l. 1. & Marſ. Fic. Arg. in Plat. Critia. & arg. in Men. & Franc. S. Albane Nat. Hiſt. Cent. 9. Exper. 100. ↩
71. Tho: Campa. de ſenſ. rerum, l. 4. c. 19. & Jo: Pic: Miran. concluſ. ſecund. Avicen. 5. ↩
72. Ariſt. de gen. anim. l. 2. c. 5. & Cardan. variet. lib. 7. c. 37. ↩
73. Gonzal. Ferd[•]n. Ovied. de Region. Septentrional. & Cardan. de varietat. l. 7. c. 37. & Dithmar. Blefken. deſcript. Iſland. ↩
74. Card. Subt. lib. 2. ↩
75. P. Bonus Margar. pretio[•]. c. 25. ↩
76. Fortun. Licde vita l. 2. c. 11 & Marc. Paling. in Libra. ↩
77. Rob. Fludd in Macrocoſm. tract. 1. l. 6. c. 8. ↩
78. Joachim. Curaeus de ſenſ. & ſenſib. l. 2 c. 23. & Leo Hebraeus de Amor. Dial. 2. & Hermes in Min. Mundi. ↩
79. Id quod quieſcit ſimplicius eſt vireſcente, & vireſcens vivente, vivens denique eo quod loqui poteſt. Phyſ. H[•]b. in p. 111. ↩
80. Card. Subt. l. 5. in p. 197. & Fernel. de abdit. rerum cauſ. l. 1. c. 3. & Fort. Licet. de vita, l. 2. c. 12. ↩
81. Card. Subt. l. 11. in p. 449. ↩
82. St. Alb[•]ns lib. 4. de Aug. Scient. c. 2. ↩
83. Card. varietat. l. 5. c. 19. & Fr. St. Albans Nat. Hiſt. Cent. 7. Ex. 9. ↩
84. Ariſt. Hiſt. Animal. l. 1. c. 1. & Card. Subt. l. 10. ↩
85. Ariſt. Hiſt. Anim. l. 2. c. 8. ↩
86. Ariſt. de part. Anim. l. 2. c. 7. & Selva di varie lezzioni, di Piet: Meſſia di ſiviglio tradot, &c. par. 1. c. 9. ↩
87. Cor. Agrid. de Occ. Phil. l. 1. c. 10. ↩
88. Fort. Licet. de vit. l. 2. c. 2. & Leo: Heb. Dial. 2. de Amore. ↩
89. Hipp. lib. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. & [•]endivog. de Sulp. in p. 12. ↩
90. Lib. 1. de Diaet. & Severin. Danus Idae[•] med. Phil. c 8. ↩
91. Lib. de Hum. Nat. vide inſuper Ocell. Luc. c. 1. & Phil. Jud. lib. de incorrupt. mund. & Her. Triſm. l. 18. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. & Macrob. in Som. Scip. l. 2. c. 12. Franc. St. Albans Nat. Hiſt. Cent. 1. Exp. ult. & Sen. de benefic. l. 5. c. 8. Epiſt. 36. & Nuiſement du ſel, &c. l. 5. c. 1. Dr. Hackwell of the Power and Providence of God, lib. 1. c. 4. ſect. 1. & M. Aurel. medit. l. 10 ſect. 7, &c. & Plotin. Ennead. 4. l. 7. c. 14. ↩
92. Utrunque omnino durum, ſed uſu mollienda nobis verba ſunt. Cicer. de Nat. D[•]or. l. 1. ↩
93. P. Palmar. in lap. Philoſ. dogmat. c. 14. ↩
94. De Longit. & brevit. v. tae, c. 1. & 2. ↩
95. Ariſt. de Hiſt. An. l. 6. c. 2 & Plin. Nat. hiſt. lib. 10. c. 63. ↩
96. Ariſt. de long. & b▪ ev. vitae, c. 2. & Plin. l. 10. c. 36. ↩
97. Ariſt. de hiſt. Anim. l. 8. c 9. & Lib. 9. c. 46. ↩
98. Cicer. Tuſc. quaeſt. l. 3. & Cardan. de var. l. 7. c. 34. ↩
99. Macrob. Sat. l. 7. c. 5. ↩
100. Ariſt. Hiſt. Anim. l. 1. c. 16. ↩
101. Conſidera in teipſo, quia Cerebro frigidiſſimo, Cor fontem caloris ſuppoſuit Deus. Bonavent. ſer. de uno Martyr. 4. in Ordine 16. l. de Sanct. in com. Tom. 3. ↩
102. Ariſt. hiſt animal. lib. 1. cap. 16. & De part. animal. & earum cauſis, lib. 2. cap. 7. ↩
103. Ariſt. de Resp. c. 6. Vide Fort. Licetus de recond. aut Lucer. l. 4. c. 9. & Ariſt de gener. anim. l. 2. c. 4. ↩
104. Card. Subt. l. 12. in p. 468. ↩
105. Fort. Licet. de vit. l. 2. c. 11. ↩
106. De Heſiod. idem aſſerit Plin. Nat. Hiſt. l. 7. c. 48. & Plut. lib. cur. orac. ceſſant. ↩
107. De long. & brev. vit. c. 2. ↩
108. Heſiod. in Theog. ↩
109. Card. lib. de Anim. immort. in p. 253. ↩
110. Pla. No[•]. [•]. & D. Aug. de Civ. l. 2. c. 14. & Lud. Vives, & Leon. Coqu[•]us, com. in loc. ↩
111. Nat. Hiſt. l. 7. c. 48. ↩
112. D. Aug. de Civ. l. 14. c. 10, 11, 12, &c. & Dr. Hackwell Apol. l. 3. c. 1. & 2. & Pet. Mexia de Siviglia. Selva di varie lez. l. 1. c. 2. ↩
113. Lud. Vives cenſur. de Ariſt. operibus praefix. ejuſdem oper. Tom. 1. & Phil. Melancth. in vit. Ariſt. quim praemiſit Tom. 2. operum Ariſt. & G. Agricol. epiſt. nuncupat. ad lib. de nat. eorum quae eff. è terra. ↩
114. Elephanto bell uarum nulla prudentio. Cicer. de Nat. D or. l. 1. ↩
115. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Soc. ap. Plat. Hipp. min. in fine. ↩
116. Card. Subt. l. 21. in p. 712. ↩
117. Pomp. Mela l. 2. c. 2. & Jul. Solinus Polyh. c. 21. & Lucian in Macrob. in p. 781. ↩
118. Coi[•]um triennio interpoſito repetunt. Ariſt. hiſt. anim. l. 5. c. 14. ↩
119. Dithmarus Blefk. deſcript. Iſland, in p. 33. & Joh. de Temporibus vixit annos 361. mortuus in Gallia an. 1139. Jean Neucleras Chronograph. vol. 2. Gener. 38. in p. 830. ↩
120. Lucian. in Macrob. ↩
121. Tener chaulds les pieds & la teſte, au dem[•]urant viver en b[•]ſt[•], Mich. de Mo[••]. Eſſaii. l. 2. c. 12. in p. 466. ↩
122. Ocell. Luc. c. 4. in p. 47. ↩
123. Card. Subt. l. 12. in p. 474. ↩
124. Card. Subt. l. 2. in p. 77. ↩
125. Card. Subt. l. 21. in p. 712. ↩
126. Hom. Odyſſ. 6. de Olymp. & Card. Cuſan. Ex. l. 5. in p. 509. ↩
127. Jo. Bicker Hermes Rediv. c. 20. ↩
128. Card. Subt. l. 12. in p. 474. & Marc. Paling. in Libra. ↩
129. Nat. hiſtl. 7. c. 48. See S. Alban. hiſt. Vit. & Mort. in p. 130. & 155. & Sir W. Rawleigh Hiſtory of the world, l. 1. c. 5. ſ[•]ct 5. ↩
130. Plin. l. 7. c. 48. & Cic. de Senect. ↩
131. St. Albans hiſt. Vit. & Mort. Vid. Purchas his Pilgrimage, l. 5. c. 8. in p. 538. ↩
132. Cicer. ad Attic. l. 2. c. 1. ↩
133. Plat. in Tim. ſub finem. Paracelſ. de modo pharmacand. tractat. 1. Tom. 5. in p. 251. ↩
134. Card. Cuſan. l. de venat. ſap. c. 1. in p. 299. & Cicer. de Nat. Deor. l. 2. & Dr. Hackwell Apol. of power, &c. l. 2. c. 4. ſect. 1. & Manil. Aſt. l. 1. & Ptol. in lib. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. ſive quadripart. ap. Coel. Rhod. l. c. 13. & Sen. Nat. quoeſt. l. 6. c. 16. &. Plin. Nat. hiſt. l. 2. c. 9. & Macrob. in Som. Scip. l. 2. c. 10. & Sat. l. 1. c. 23. & Gu[•]l. Mennes aur. veller. l. 1. c. 11. T. C. Vol. 5. in p. 358. ↩
135. Aver. apud Joach. Curaeum l. 2. de ſenſ. & ſenſib. c. 19. in p. 168. ↩
136. Joach. Cur. de ſenſ. & ſ[•]nſib. l. 2. c. 24. in p. 175. ↩
137. Ocell. Luc. c. 1. in p. 19. ↩
138. Card. Var. l. 8. c. 40. Vide Coel. Rhod. l. 11. c. 13. & Purch. Pilgrim. l. 5. c. 3. in p. 537. & Cor. Agrip. de Occ. Phil. l. 1. c. 19. in p. 39. & Purch. Pilgrim. vol. 2. p. 1495. of the Sultan of Cambaya. ↩
139. Paracelſ. de Terpertin. c. 1. Tom 7. in p. 83. Vide Beguin. Ty[•]oc. chym. c. 6. in p. 168. & Stow Survey of Lond. Billingſgate Ward, in p. 393. & R[•]phael. Volat. l. 33. c. de Coe[•] ▪ & Terr. Progen, ap. Fortun. L[••]et. de recoad. aut Luc. l. 1. c. 11. & Naucler. Chronog. vol. 2. gener. 36. & Bernardin. Corium vit. de gli Imper. vit. di H[•]nr. 2. in p. 555. ↩
140. Parac. lib. de conſer. r[•]r. nat. Tom. 6. in p. 211. ↩
141. card. Subt. l. 2. in. p. 64. ↩
142. Ariſt. lib. de▪ R[•]ſpirat. c. 4. ↩
143. Senec. nat. quaeſt. l. 3. c. 19. & Athen. Deipnoſ. l. 8. ↩
144. Lib. de Anim. ſubterran prope finem. ↩
145. Hiſt. Anim. l. 5. c. 19. Vid. Card. Subt. l. 9. in p. 367. & Ph l. Jud. lib. de G[•]gant. & Sen nat. quaeſt. l. 5. c. 6. & Cic[•]r. de nat. Deor. l. 1. & Phil. de Anim. prop. c. 23. de Cynclis & Pyrauſtis. ↩
146. St. Alban. Nat. Hiſt Cent. 7. Exp 96. ↩
147. Anonym. Enchi. Phyſ. reſt. tut. can. 163, & 164. ↩
148. P[•]t. Sev. [•] Dan. Ideae Med. Phil. c. 8. in p. 102, 103, 104. ↩
149. Ariſt. de gen. anim. l. 1. c. 18. & Paracelſ. lib. de gen. homin. To. 8. in p. 11. ↩
150. Hippoc. lib. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. princip. ↩
151. Fernel. de abd. rerum cauſ. l. 2. c. [•]7. in p. 168. ↩
152. Croll. de ſignat. int. rerum in p. 66. & Fernel. de abd. rer. cauſ. l. 2. c. ult. ↩
153. Gal. de ſanitat. tuend. l. 1. ↩
154. S[•]n. E[•]. 58, & Lipſ. [〈…〉]. 15, 16, 17▪ & Mar. F[•]cin. in vit. Pla[•] ▪ q[•]am ſuae verſ. [•••]mittit. ↩
155. Diog. Laert. in vita Pl[••] ▪ ↩
156. Plato in Charmid. ↩
157. Card. var. l. 10. c. 50. & Hieron. Rubaeus de diſtill. ſect. 2. c. 2. in p. 73. ↩
158. Nat. Hiſt. l. 7. c. 50. ↩
159. Plot. Ennea. 2. l. 3. c. 2. ↩
160. Fran. Geor. Venet. de Harm. Mundi totius Cant. 1. Tom. 3. c. 8. & 9. & Strozza Cicogna del palagio de gli incauti. Prospet. 1. l. 2. c. 4. in p. 173, 174. & Ibid. Mer. Triſm. ↩
161. Joan. Picus M[•]rand. in Aſtrol. l. 3. c. 21. in p. 341. ↩
162. Macrob. in Som. Scip. l. 1. c. 19. & Rob. de Fluctibus Macrocoſm. l. 3. tract. 1. c. 9. in p. 105, 106. ↩
163. De part. anim. l. 3. c. 8. ↩
164. De part. anim. l. 4. c. 2. ↩
165. Diſcors del Mathiol. nel. 3. lib. di Dioſcor. c. 145. & Alex. ab Alexan. dier. gen. l. 5. c. 25. ↩
166. L b. 2. de vir. membror. c. 7, 8, 9, &c. Tom 3. ↩
167. Card. Subt. l. 0. in p. 430. & A drovand. de Avibus, l. 12. ↩
168. A. Gel. noct. Act. l. 10. c. 12. ↩
169. Card. Subt. l. 10. in p. 415. & Gonz. Fer. Ovi. ſum. hiſt. Indiae Occid. & Purch. Pilgrim. Vol. 3. l. 5. c. a. in p. 978. ↩
170. Nat. hiſt. l. 7. c. 2. ↩
171. Vid. Ath[•]n, Deip. l. 2. in p. 40. De Democrito mori volente, &c. ↩
172. Vide Marſ. Ficin. argum. in Plat. Phaed. in p. 490. ↩
173. Paracel. A[•]chidox. lib. 1. de prolog. & M[•]crocoſm. Tom. 6. in p. 5. ↩
174. Paracelſ. in modo pharmac. tract. 3. Tom 5. in p. 244, & 245, & 259. ↩
175. Paracelſ. Archidox. l. [•]. Tom. 6. in p. 5. & Fortun. Licet. de his qui diu ſine al. vixerunt, l. 1. & The admirable and memorable Hiſt. of our Time by J: Goulart, Engliſhed by Ed: Grimſton, in p. 352, 353. & p. 429. & deinceps. & Car. Bovill, Epiſt. ad N[•]c. Grambuſia. ↩
176. plin. l. 7. c. 18. & Athen. D[•]ip. l 2. ↩
177. Pli. l. 7. c. 19. ↩
178. De part. morh. & ſympt▪ l. 6. c. 10. (h.i.k) Sen. de Ira. l. 2. c. 12. ↩
179. Plin. l. 7. c. 51. nunquam horam totam dormiiſſe, int[•]rpretatur. J. Lipſius ad Sen. lib. 2. de Ira. c. 12. ↩
180. Gonz. Ferdinand. Ovied. in fol. 261. & St. Albans Syl. Sylvarum, Cent. 9. Ex. 99. ↩
181. SubClement. 7. ſubt. l. 11. in p. 459. Vide Corn. Agrip. de Occ. Phil. l. 1. c. 58. in p. 118. & Keckerm. Syſt. Phyſ. l. 3. c. 12. in p. 401. & Strozz. Cicogna. Palog. de gli in cant. proſ. 1. l. 4. c. 6. ſub finem. & Her. Mercurial. Av. 12. ad Hipp. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] & Bernardin. Cario del Hiſt. Millan. part. 3. in fol. 216. ↩
182. Fr. S. Alb. de augment. Scient. c. 2. in p. 200. ↩
183. Cic. Acad. quaeſt. l. 1. ſub fine. & Fernel. de abd. rerum cauſ. l. 1. c. 7. ↩
184. De ſin. bon. & mal. l. 4. prope fin[•]m. ↩
185. De abdit. rerum cauſ. l. 2. c. 18. in p. 173. ↩
186. Fernel. de abdit. rer. cauſ. l. 2. c. 19. in p. 180. & Fort. Licet. de his qui diu ſine aliment. vixerunt, l. 3. c. 42. ↩
187. Plin. l. 27. c. 2. ↩
188. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉], Ferr. de ab. rer. cauſ. l. 2. c. 2. in p. 88. ↩
189. Fern. de ab. rer. cauſ. l. 2. c. 19. inp. 180. ↩
190. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉], Plant. in Phaed. in p. 38. ↩
191. Par. lib. de Philoſ. accult. Cap. de inſigni Magica abuſ. & quomodo in incant. illa abeat. Tom. 10. in p. 27. ↩
192. Plin. l. 7. c. 52. & Tertull. lib. de An. cap. 44. ↩
193. Cor. Agri[•]. de Occ. Phil. l. 1. c. 63. & Fr. St. Albans Aug. ſcient. l. 4. c. 1. in p. 189. ↩
194. Card. var. l. 16. c. 89. ↩
195. Torpedo. Ariſt. hiſt. anim. l. 9. c. 37. & Plin. l. 9. c. 42. & Phil. de anim. propriet. c. 39. & Oppian. hal. l. 3. v. 149. & Fern. de oc. rer. cauſ. l. 2. c. 14. ↩
196. Plin. l. lib. 8. c. 21. & Ficin. de vit. [•]oel. comp. l. 3. c. 16. & G. Piſid. lib. de Mund. op. v. 933. & Bodin. des Sorcier. l. 1. c. 6. in p. 46. ↩
197. Plin. l. lib. 8. c. 21. & Ficin. de vit. [•]oel. comp. l. 3. c. 16. & G. Piſid. lib. de Mund. op. v. 933. & Bodin. des Sorcier. l. 1. c. 6. in p. 46. ↩
198. Plin. l 7. c. 15. ↩
199. Plin. l. 7. c. 2. ↩
200. Au. Gell. noot. att. l. 9. c. 4. & Rog. Bac. lib. de mirab. pot. art. & nat. cap. 3. T. C. Vol. 5. in p. 497. & Gaud. Merula. mem. l. 1. c. 2. & Cor. Agrip. de Occ. Phil. l. 1. c. 19. p. 40. & H. Salmuth. Com. in Pancirol. nova rep. Tit. 15. in p. 655. ↩
201. Card. Va. l. 15. c. 80. ↩
202. Pudendumque, rurſus omnia animal[•]a quae ſint ſalutaria ipſis noſſe praeter hominem. Plin. l. 27. c. 3. ↩
203. Vide Mathiol. Ep. ded. in ſuo Diſcors. lib. de Dioſcoride. ↩
204. Plin. l. 8. c. 26. ↩
205. Canarian. Plin. l. 25 c. 8. & Ariſt. hiſt. anim. l. 9. c. 6. ↩
206. Aron. Plin. l. 8. c. 36. ↩
207. Cic. de nat. Deord. 2. & Ariſtot. ubi ſupra (o) & de mirab. auſcult. & Plin. l. 27. c. 11. & lib. 8. c. 27. ↩
208. A[•]iſt. hiſt. anim. l. 9. c. 6. & lib. de mirab. auſcult. & B. Porta. Mag. nat. l. 1. c. 10. De his omnibus & multò pluribus vide Georg. Piſid. lib. de Mund. Artificio V. 915. ↩
209. P. Severin. Danus Idea med. Philoſ. c. 2. in p. 15. ↩
210. Hom. Odyſſ. 4. v. 229, &c. ↩
211. See Purch. Pilgrim. Tom. 2. l. 10. c. 1. ſect. 1693. of thoſe Trees which are Poiſon on the one ſide (the Weſt) and an Antidote on the other. Hen: de Luith hant com. ſur le Treſor. de Treſ. de Chriſt. Gamon. in p. 90. ↩
212. Galenus; & Aetius, l. 13. c. 49. ap. Mathiol. Diſcors. ſop. lib. 6. de Dioſc. c. 1. & l. 2. c. 54. ↩
213. Cardan. Subt. l. 7. in p. 265. ↩
214. Jo. I ſaat. Holland oper. miner. l. 2▪ c 4. T. C. Vol. 3. in p. 421. ↩
215. Card. Subt. l. 5. in p. 186. & Sen. nat. quaeſt. l. 3. c. 10. & Ariſt. Metaph. l. 4 c. 5. ↩
216. Ariſt. hiſt. anim. l. 9. c. 48. & Plin. l. 9. c. 8. & Cicer. de Nat. Deor. l. 2. & Oppian. hal. 12. v. 533. ↩
217. Sendivog. tract. de Sulph. i [•] p. 68. ↩
218. Vide Joſ: Querc. Hermet. m[••]. def. l. 2. tractatulo de quinta eſſent. in p. 284. ↩
219. Vide P. Palmar. Lap. Philoſ. dog. fine Liban. reſt. Cap. 15. in p. 89. ↩
220. Lepus Marinus, Plin. l. 9. c. 48. & Mathiol. diſcorsnel. l. 2. di Dioſcor. c. 18. ↩
221. Joſeph. de bell. Jud. l. 7. c. 25. & Card. Subt. l. 8. in p. 310. ↩
222. Card. Subt. l. 2. in p. 102. Joan. Leon. hiſt. Afric. l. 7. ap. Purch. Pilgrim. Tom. 2. l. 6. c. 1. ſect. 7. in p. 831. ↩
223. Plin. l. 27. c. 2. ↩
224. Parac. li. de Tranſmut. r[•]r. Tom. 6. in p. 235. ↩
225. Id. Archidox. l. 7. Tom. 6. p. 59. & Nomen illa Creago. Cardan. Subt. l. 7. in p. 280. & Scribit Albertus eſſe magnetem quendam qui hominum carnem non ſecus ac ferrum ad ſe trahat. Joach. Vadian. Comment. ad Jul. Solin. poly. c. 65. in p. 314. ↩
226. Paracelſ. ubi ſupra ad (k) ↩
227. Idem ibid. ↩
228. Parac. Archidox. lib. 5. Tom. 6. in p. 37. & Hieron. Rubeus de diſtill. ſect. 2. c. 20. in p. 131. ↩
229. Card. Subt. lib. 7. in pag. 280. & Chriſtofle de Gam. en ſa ſemaine apud H: de Linebaut Sieur de Monlion. en ſon Comment. ſur le Treſor des Treſors du dict Chriſtofle in p. 33. ↩
230. In Tabula Smaragdina. ↩
231. Parac. Com. in Hippocrat. Aphoriſm. Tom. 5. in p. 100. ↩
232. Hipp. Aph. 1. ↩
233. Etenim qui in Galeno nunc conſenuimus, &c. Sev. Danus Id. med. Phil. cap. 1. in p. 5. & S. Albans Aug. Scient. l. 5. c. 2. in p. 233. Quia turpe putant parere minoribus, & quia Imberbis didicere ſenes perdenda fateri. Horat. l. 2. ep. 1. ↩
234. Polit. l. 3. c. 13. ↩
235. Plat. Polit. 3. ſub finem. ↩
236. Ariſt. hiſt. anim. l. 2. c. 1. & Plin. l. 8. c. 21. & Jul. Solin. polyhiſt. c. 65. & Phil. de. anim. propriet. c. 35. ↩
237. In Timaeo & De Pl[••]. teſtatur Cl m. Alex. Stro. 8. in p. 555. & Tho. Campan[•]lla de ſen rerum, exert. l. 3. c. 14. ↩
238. Card. Subt. l. 8. in p. 312. & Gonz. Ferdin. Ovied. hiſt. of the Weſt Indies. & Mathiol. Diſc. nel prim[•] lib. di Dioſcor. in Prooem. ↩
239. Card. ubi ſupra (y) ↩
240. T[•]o: Eraſtus diſput. adverſ Paracelſ. par. 2. in p. 181. ↩
241. A[•]iſt. de gener. an[•]m. l. 1. c. 19. ↩
242. Ubi ſup[•]a cap. 20. ↩
243. Plin. l. 7. c. 48. ↩
244. Plin. l. 7. c. 14. ↩
245. Lib. 7. c. [•] ↩
246. Plat. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. in p. 527. ↩
247. Card. Subt. l. 4. in p. 157. ↩
248. Vide Plin. l. 11. c. 12. & Lib. 22. c. 24. & Athen. Deipnoſ. l. 2. in p. 46. ↩
249. Card. Subt. l. 6. in p. 365. At Ariſt. lib. de reſpirat. cap. 4. ſeptem tantùm annos vivere ait. ↩
250. Ariſt. Hiſt. anim. l. 5. c. 22. & Card. Subt. lib. 21. in p. 695. & Scal. Exer. 7. ↩
251. Card. Subt. lib. 1. in pag. 122. & Pallad. Spagyr. cap. 23. in p. 307. & Marcell. Paling. in Aquario. & Gaud. Merula memorab. l. 5. c. 14. & S. Alban. Nat. Hiſt. cent. 4. exp. 98. & Pet. Mart. Decad. 3. l. 1. & Joſ. Acoſt. Nat. Hiſt. Jud. li. 2. c. 8. 9, 10. & G[•]ovan. Boter. relat. univerſal. par. 1. li. 4. ↩
252. Gonzal. Ferd. Oviedo, Hiſt. of the Weſt Ind. in fo. 183. ↩
253. Plat. in Timaeo. Plutarch. lib. de Praecept. ſan. ſub finem. ↩
254. Card. Subt. l. 2. in p. 81. ↩
255. Card. Var. l. 7. c. 39. Coe!. Rhod. Lect. ant. l. 8. c. 12. Jo. Heilfield Sphynx Theolo. cap. 6. ↩
256. Ariſt. de Coelo, l. 2. c. 7. & Coel. Rhod. Lect. ant. l. 24. c. 16. & R. T. Lucrec. lib. 6. & Algaret. Philoſoph. l. 2. tract. 2. c. 4. & Fort. Licet. de vita, lib. 3. c. 15. ↩
257. St. Alban[•] Nat. Hiſt. or Sylva Sylva um Ce[•]t. 9. Exp. 33. ↩
258. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] Pind. Olymp. 4. ↩
259. Card. lib. de Anim. immort. in p. 212. & Treat. of ancient and modern Times, lib. 5. c. 6. & Scalig. Exerc. 312. & Bart. Keckerm. Syſt. Phyſic. l. 3. c. 17. & Levin. Lemnius & Jo. Rudolph. Cam[•]rar. Syllog. mem. medic. cent. 2. particula 14, 15, 16, 17, 18. ↩
260. Card. Subt. l 9. in p. 353. ↩
261. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉], Syneſ. lib. de Provid. princ. ↩
262. Card. Subt. l. 9. in p. 371, 372. ↩
263. Plin. l. 11. c. 37. ↩
264. Ariſt. hiſt. anim. l. 6. c. 5. ↩
265. Paracelſ. lib. de Reſuſcit. rerum, Tom. 6. in p. 226. & Of the Fiſh called Macove, ſee Joan. de Santos Hiſt. Aethiop. orient. ap. Purch. Pilgrim. vol. 2. l. 9. c. 12. ſect. 3. in pag. 1546. & Of the Snake Cucurjuba, ſee him, Tom. 4. l. 7. c. 1. ſect. 6. in p. 1317. & Of the Serpent Cobrus, ſee him, Tom. 4. l. 6. c. 8. in p. 1243. ↩
266. Paracelſ. lib. de nat. rerum ſeu de generat. rerum nat. Tom. 6. in p. 201. ↩
267. De Homunculo. Vide Paracelſ. lib. de gener. rer. nat. Tom. 6. in p. 204 ↩
268. De anim. l. 2. c. 4. ↩
269. De Xanche Samothraceno. Nat. hiſt. lib. 11. c. 37. ↩
270. Plin. l. 25. c. 3. & Card. Subt. l. 2. in p. 103. ↩
271. Plin. l. 7. c. 4. Vide Strozz. Cicogna. Pal. de gl[•] incauti. prospet. 1. l. 4. c. 5. in p. 412, 413, &c. & Admirable and memorab. Hiſt. of our Times by J. Goulart, in p. 275. & Phot. Biblioth. 244. ap. Purch. Pilgrim. l. 3. c. 1. in p. 226. ↩
272. Cardan. de variet. l. 8. c. 43. in p. 4▪ 7. & Bart. Keckerm. Syſt Phyſ. l. 5. c. 3. in p. 754, 755, &c. ↩
273. Plin. l. 8. c. 30. & Ovid. Metam, l. [•]5. & Oppian. de Venat. l. 3. & Aelian. l. 1. c. 24. Videtamen è contia Fort. Licet. de recondit. antiq. lucern. l. 2. c. 37. ↩
274. Macrob. in Som. Scip. l. 1. c. 14. ↩
275. Ariſt. de anim. l. 1. c. 3. ↩
276. Decad. 2. lib. 10. Bojucam ſive Agueveo appellat. & Card. Boniccam Subt. lib. 2. in p. 7. & Gaud. Merula Bonamem, l. 3. c. 4. & Langius Doniccam, epiſt. med. 79. ap. Strozz. Cicogn. Pal. de gli incauti proſpet. 1. l. 4. c. 7. in p. 390. See Anton. Herrera his Deſcript. of the Weſt-Indies in Purch. Pilgr. vol. 3. l. 5. c. 1. in p. 868. ↩
277. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Ariſt. Pol. l. 1. c. 9. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Ibid. c. 8. ↩
278. Ariſt. Pol. l. 1. c. 9. ↩
279. Plin. l. 9. c. 57. ↩
280. Plato in Apolog. Socrat. ſtatim a principio. ↩
281. Succos concretos vocat G. Agric. ↩
282. Comment. in Hermet. lib. de lap. Phyſ. ſecret. c. 1. T. C. vol. 4. p. 693. ↩
283. Card. Subt. l. 5. in p. 190. ↩
284. De benefic. l. 7. c. 10. ↩
285. Conceſſum enim Rhetoribus ementiri, ut aliquid dicere poſſint argutius. Cicero de clar. Oratoribus. ↩
286. Ibidem de ſtiriis Falopius tract. de met. ſeu foſſilib. ſubter. l. 5. c. 7. ↩
287. Aquae fluxus t[•]rram m[••]iens, & ſ[•]cum rapiens. Agric. de Ort. & cauſ. ſubterran. l. 5. c. 7. ↩
288. Roger. Bach. specul. Alchim. c. 4. T. C. ol. 2. p. 414. ↩
289. Ort. & cauſis ſubter. l. 5. c. 12. ↩
290. Sever. Dan. Id. med. Phil. c 7. in p. 67. 68. ↩
291. Vide Bernard. Treviſan. Epiſt. ad Thom. Bovan. Artis auriferae vol. 2. in p. 83. 84. ↩
292. Vide Bernard. Treviſan. Epiſt. ad Thom. Bovan. Artis auriferae vol. 2. in p. 83. 84. ↩
293. Vide Bernard. Treviſan. Epiſt. ad Thom. Bovan. Artis auriferae vol. 2. in p. 83. 84. ↩
294. Chriſtophle de Gamon. Treſors de Treſors. in p. 39 & Hen. de L[•]nthat. Comment. Ib. ↩
295. Gaſt. Clav. Apol. Chryſop. & arg. T. C. vol. 2. in. p. 80. ↩
296. Tho. Eraſt. diſp. de met. p. 19. & Ovied. hiſt. l. 6. c. 8. ap. Sin. Mayol. colloq. 19. Metal. & Fort. l. cet. de ſpont. viv▪ nt. ort. l. 3. c. 15. ↩
297. Ovid. met. l. 15. & Plin. l. 32. c. 2. & Gaud. Merula l. 4. c. 21. & Dioſcorid. l. 5. c. 29. & Jo. Langius in ep. ad Gul. Raſcolon, habetur in fine. & Bacii. l. de gem. nat. in. p. 227. ↩
298. Vocatur a Graecis [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Ab Ariſt. & Theophraſt. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] ab Alexand. Aphrodiſ. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Arabicè Zaibar, vel Zibach. H[•]spanicè Argento bivo, vel Azoque. Galli[•]è Argent. vif. German. Queck [•]ver, &c. [•] a. Uazer. Anatom. ſpagyr. M[•]rc. l. 1. c. 1. Chiamano Argent vivo. i. Grae[•]. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] i. Lvine Argent. vivum oli Arabi Za bar & Za[•]bock I tedeſ[•]hi Quick-ſilver. gli ſpaynus Azoque diſcors. del Matthial. nel. 5 lib. di dioſcorit. c. 69. ↩
299. Card. ſ[•]bt. l 5. in. p. 220. ↩
300. Ric. Anglic cor[•]ct. fat. c. 6. & 9. T. C. vol. 2. & Roſar. abbreviat. T. C. vol. 3. in p. 721. ↩
301. Mar. Aur l. Anton. meditat. lib. 10. Sect. 7. ↩
302. Phyſic. l. 2. c. 2. & Metap. l. 12. c. 4. ↩
303. Franc. Vales. Sac. phil. c. 49. in p. 279. ↩
304. De part. animal. l. 2. c. 4. & Hiſt. an. l. 3. c. 19. & M[••]eor. l. 4. c. 7. & 10. ↩
305. Hip. l. 6. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. & Plat. in Timaeo. & Galen. l. quod animi mores &c. ↩
306. Meteor. l. 4. c. 8. ↩
307. De ortu et c[•]uſis ſubt. l. 5. ↩
308. Mathiol. nel 5. l. di Dioſccrid. n[•]l prooem. & Dion. Zacharias opuſc. T. C. Vol. 1. in p. 802. & C[•]nſi[•]. Conju[•]. Solis [•]t Lunae. T. C. Vol. 5. in p. 484. ↩
309. Tranſit enim fulmen coeli per ſepta domorum, &c. Lucret. l. 1. & Parac. Archid. mag. li. 5. to. 11. in p. 53. & Anonym. Enchi. Phyſ. reſtit. can. 199. & Aſclep. ad Ammon Regem li. 1. & S. Alban. de augment. Scien. l. 3. c. 4. & D. Hackwell Apol. lib. 2. c. 4. ſect. 1. & Picus Mirand. disput. in Aſtrol. l. 3. c. 4. p. 311. ↩
310. Lib. de animant. ſubter. prope finem. Vide inſuper Card. Subt. l. 10. p. 437. S. Alban. Syl. Syl. Cent. 6. ep. 70. Pontan. Alex. ab Al. B. Fulgoſ. Collect. l. 2. Treaſure of ancient, &c. l. 5. c. 11. & Guil. Nabrig. rerum Angl. l. 1. 6. 28. ↩
311. Ariſt. M[•]t[•]orol. l. 4. c. 7. ↩
312. Nuiſement: Tra. du ſel & esprit. gen. ca. 3. in p. 24. ↩
313. Ariſt. l. de ſenſ. & ſenſib. c. 5. & T. Norton tract. Chym. c. 5. in p. 147. ↩
314. De Nat. Foſſil. l. 1. & de ort. & cauſ. ſub. l. 5 & Card. ſubt. l. 5. in p. 186. ↩
315. Card. ib. p. 201. ↩
316. Card. ſub. l. 5. in p. 190. & G. Agric. de vet. & nov. met. l. 1. & Gonz. Fer. Oviedo. li. de gen. met. & Sendiv. Novum Lum. Tra. 5. & Augurel. chryſop. li. 1. ↩
317. Card. Subt. l. 5. in p. 190, 191. ↩
318. Jo. Pic. Mirand. in Aſtrol.. 3. c. 4. ↩
319. G. Agricde Ort. & cauſ. Sub[•]. l. 5. & de nat. foſſil. l. 1. c. 6. ↩
320. Rich. A[•]glicus corrector c. 5. T. C. vol. 2. p. 421. & Phel. Moſemius Inſtit. ad his perfect. contemp. 4. part 2. c. 5. in p. 333. ↩
321. Pet. Bon. Terrar. Margarit. pret. c. 20. T. C. vol. 5. in p. 804. ↩
322. Plin. l. 33. c. 6. & G. Agric. de nat. foſsil. l. 9. pr[•]ncip. ↩
323. Mich. Mayerus l. de circ. quadrat. c. 5. ↩
324. Lib. de Generat. r[•]r. nat. 2. Tom. 6. in p. 207. ↩
325. A[•]teph. clav[•]s major ſapient. cap. 1. T. C. vol. 4. in p. 225. & R[•]i. Lul. Thear. t[•]ſtam n[•]. c. 12. in p. 28. ↩
326. Pulveres nempe liquefac. ut ſunt Sal Alchali Litharg. Sal fluxum, Fel vitri, ſcoria, ſal gem. ſal pet. &c. Paracelſ. l. 8. Archidox de ſeparat. rer. nat. Tom. 6. in p. 239. ↩
327. Albert. Magn. de reb. met. l. 4. c. 6. ↩
328. Lauren. Ventura de lap. Phil. c. 3. T. C. vol. 2. p. 238. & Geb. Sum. perfect. part. 1. l. 2. c. 5. in p. 626. ↩
329. Roſ. abbrev. T. C. vol. 3. pag. 701. & Geb. Sum. perfect. l. 2. part. 1. c. 7. in p. 631. ↩
330. Solum aurum pinguedine caret. Card. ſubt. l. 6. in p. 232. ↩
331. Ariſt. de generat. animal. l. 2. c. 1. ↩
332. Locus deſumptus ex Ariſtot. de gener. Animal. l. 1. c. 20, 21, & 22. ↩
333. De Hiſtor. Anim. l. 6. c. 7. ↩
334. Plin. l. 10, c. 58, 60. ↩
335. Vide Geb. ſummae perfect. part. 2. l. 2. c. 14. in p. 653, 654, &c. ↩
336. Tract. 5. Roſar. abbrev. p[•]r Toletan. phil max. T. C. vol. 3. in p. 698. & Paracelſ. in Manual. Phil. T[•]m. 6. in p. 318, 319. et in frag. l. 3. de vit. longa c. 8. Tom. 6. in p. 168. ↩
337. Vide Baſil. Valent. Practic. delap. ſapient. in p. 19. ↩
338. Raſis Ciſtrenſis lib. lumin. Harmon. imperſcru. Decad. 1. in p. 71. ↩
339. Eſt aurum perfectio metallorum atque conatus. Card. ſubt. l. 6. p. 233. & de Varietate l. 10. in p. 405. ↩
340. Eorum decreta uſque adeo ſunt obſcura, dubia, incerta, falſa, puerilia, ut miſericordiam poti;ùs quam reprehenſi[•]nem mereantur. P. Severin. Dan. Idea Med. Philoſ. cap. 9. in p. 132. ↩
341. Cardan. de ſubt. l. 6. in p. 240. ↩
342. Sanctus Epiphanius lib. de 12. gemm[•]s in v[•]ſte Aaronis cap. 17. p. 9. & Joannes Matalius Metellus [•]raefat. in H[•]eron. Oſorii Luſitan. hiſt. de reb. ab Eman. rege geſtis. Verùm hic de oculo catti, ille de Hyacintho. ↩
343. Card. ſubt. lib. 2. in p. 78. ↩
344. Paracelſ. lib. de Element. Tom. 6. in p. 300. ↩
345. Lib. de Tinctura Phyſicorum c. 4. Tom. 6. in p. 276. ↩
346. Lib. de arte metall. metamorphoſ. T. C. vel. 1. in p. 32, 33. ↩
347. Solent G[•]ometrae non emnia docere, ſ[•]d quaedam poſtulare ut ſibi concedantur, quò faciliùs quae volunt explic. Cicer. offic. li. 3. ↩
348. Ariſt. Eth. l. 6. cap. 5, 6, 7. ↩
349. D. Auguſt. de Trin. lib. 13. cap. 19. & Cicer. Tuſcul. quae. lib. 4. ↩
350. Cicer. Tuſc. Quaeſt. lib. 1. & Academ. Quaeſt. lib. 1. & 4. ↩
351. Lib. 7. cap. 55. ↩
352. Plato in Phaedon. Hipp. de D[•]aet. lib. 1. ↩
353. Piutar. de Opin. Phil. lib. 5. c. 20. Phil. Moſemcus Archiep. ↩
354. Nicoſienſ. univerſ. inſtitut. ad hom. perf. contemp. 3. part. 2. cap. 11, &. 12. ↩
355. Cael. Rhod. lib. 2. c. 31. Lipſ. ceat. 1. Ep. 50. Joſſius de riſu & fl[•]tu. apud Burton. ſeu D[•]m. jun. de Melancb. part. 1. Sect. 1. m[•]mb. 2. ſubſect. 5. in p. 19. in margin. ↩
356. G. Merula memor. lib. 1. c. 1. ↩
357. P. R[•]c[•]us de coel. agricult. lib. 4. ↩
358. Herm. in Clavi. ↩
359. A[•]iſt. de ſenſ. & ſenſib. cap. 4. ↩
360. Sen. nat. quaeſt. l. 3. cap. 20. ↩
361. Dion. Areopag. cael. Hierarch. c. 13. ↩
362. Porphyr. de Occaſ. ↩
363. Card. Variet. l. 8. cap. 42. in p. 309. ↩
364. Jo. Pic. Mirand. concluſ. ſecund. Av. 2. &. 4. ↩
365. Plato in Alcibiade. 1. & in Phaed. ↩
366. Herm. in Miniſt. Mundi. ↩
367. De quinque incommodis quae affert materia menti humanae vid. Fortun. Li[•]e. de vit. l. 2. c. 27. ↩
368. Eadem penè ad verbum Phy. Hebrae. c. 2. in p. 21 ↩
369. Macrob. in ſ[•]m[••]um Scip. l. 1. c. 20. & Archang. Burgon. minorit. Comment. in cab. dog. dogm. 20. & Ger. Dom. phyſ. Triſmeg. T. C. vol. 1. in p. 406. & Fortun. Iacet. de Ort. an. hum. l. 1. c. 15. & Rob. Flud. Microcoſm. Tract. [•] ▪ Sect. 1. lib. 8. c. 8. ↩
370. Hippoc. li. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] & Cael. Rhod. lect. an[•]iq. lib. 15. c. 23. ↩
371. Phil. Jud[•]. de. mu[•]di opifi[•]i[•]. ↩
372. Vide P. Palinar. lap. Phil. dogmat. ſeu Libavium reſt[•]t. c. 15. in p. 88. ↩
373. Supra pag. 32. ↩
374. Hipp[•••] de A[•]r[•], aq[•]is & locis. in ſi[•]. ↩
375. Problem. Sect. 14 q[•]aeſt. 1. & 15, 16. ↩
376. S[•]crat. ap. Plat. in Sympoſ. ↩
377. [〈◊〉] imm[•]r[••]o ſi[••]as animas ſ[•]p[••]nt[•]s appellarit H[•]ractitus. Joan. Bodi[•]. method. hiſtor. in p. 108. & Jo. Huarte Examen de los ingenios. & Charron de la ſageſſ. l. 1. c. 13. ↩
378. Plutarch. Sym[•]oſ. l. 1. quaeſt. 6. & Quint. Curt. l. 10. ſub. fin. & Card. ſubt. l. 8. & Cae[•]. R[•]od. An[•]. lect. l. 29. c. 17. Idem etiam de Socrate aſſerit Arrian. Epict. l 4. c. 11. ↩
379. Quos qui vacare m[•]nte putat is ipſe mentis expers eſt. Cic. de Nat. Deor. lib. 2. ↩
380. Author quaeſtionis a[•] Lap. Phyſ. v[•]lent. contra [•••]ſem T. C. vol. 3. in p. 175. ↩
381. D' H[•]ſt. Animal l. 4. [•]. 8. ↩
382. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. Ariſt. Ethic. l. 2. c. 6. ↩
383. Plotin. Ennead. 2. lib. 9. c. 13. pag. 212. & Cornel. Agrip. de Occult. Phil. l. 3. c. 39. in p. 417. ↩
384. Hippoc. lib. de Aere Ag. & locis. & Alexand. ab Alex. dier. gen. lib. 4. c. 13. ↩
385. Omnis in Arctois ſanguis quicunque pruinis naſcitur, indomitus bellis, & martis amator. Ap. Silveſt. Girald. Cambrens▪ Topog. Hiber. particul. 1. cap. 27. ↩
386. Hippoc. ubi ſupra. & Cicer. de nat. Deorum lib. 2. ↩
387. Plat. in Tim. & Cicer. l. de Fato. & Jo. F. Picus lib. de Imaginat. & G. Merul. Mem. lib. 1. cap. 1. & Les diverſes Lecons de Pierre de Mexia &c. part. 4. cap. 6. ↩
388. Cardan. ſubtil. lib. 8. in pag. 304. & Diſcors d[•]l Mathiol. nel. 1. lib. di Dioſcor. in Pro[•]emio. & S. Alb. Syl. Sylvarum. or Nat. Hiſt. Cent. 6. exper. 17, 18, 19, &c. & Fort. Licet. de Spontan. vivent. ortu lib. 4. c. 31. ↩
389. Quinetiam cibo quo utare intereſſe aliquid ad mentis aciem putant. Cicer de nat. D[•]or. l. 2. See Ric. Eden in his Book of Moſcovia and Tartary, ann[•]xed to the Decades of Peter Martyr. fol. 299, &c. ↩
390. Cardan. ſubt. l. 8. in p. 339. & de varie[•]. l. 8. c. 40. vide Cuſan. de Co[•]jectaris l. 2. c. 8. in p. 103. ↩
391. Lib. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. ↩
392. Lib. 7. de leg[•]b. ↩
393. A. Gel. l. 12. c. 1. ↩
394. Scal. exerc[••]. 206. 5. & Jo. Leo. Afric. lib. 9. ap. Purch. Pilgrim. vol. 2. l 6. c. 1. Sect. 9. & Girald. Camb. Itiner. Camb. lib. 1. c. 2. ap. Burton ſeu Democ. jun. de Melanc. par. 1. S[•]ct. 2. Memb. 4. Subſect. 1. in p. 127. ↩
395. Ethic. l. 7. c. 6. ↩
396. Sen. de. Ira, l. 2. c. 20. ↩
397. Hipp lib. de Aere▪ Aquis, et locis. ↩
398. Subt. l. 18. in p. 643. ↩
399. Sen. de Ira. l. 2. c. 18, 19, &c. ↩
400. Plato in Timaeo. ↩
401. In Timaeo. in p. 499. & in Prol. in p. 296. & Epictet. Enchirid. cap. 64. & M. Aurel. Antonin. Meditat. lib. 4. Sect. 43. & lib. 11. Sect. 16. & Palingen. in Scorp. ↩
402. In Tim. in p. 476. & Philo l b. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. in princip. ↩
403. Cuſanus de loct. Ignorant. l. 2. c. 5. in p. 28. ↩
404. Crollius Baſilic. chymica, in p. 258. ↩
405. Lib. ſecret. max. Philoſoph. galli de delph. anonym. T. C. vol. 3. in p. 819. ↩
406. Ger. Dorn. Phyſic. geneſ. T. C. Vol. 1. in p. 388. ↩
407. Sum. perfect. part 2. cap. 24. in p. 535. E[•] quidem in rebus omnibus, ſed in ex ractione ejus, vita deficeret, S[•]ndi. vog. Tract. de Sulph. in p. 50. ↩
408. Plin. l. 10. c. 63. ↩
409. Card. ſubt. l. 7. c. 37. ↩
410. Cardan. ſubt. l. 12. in p. 467. & Levin. L mn de occu't. nat. mirac. l. 2. c. 39. ↩
411. K[•]ck rm. ſyſt. phyſ. l. 3. c. 13. ↩
412. Ariſt. d' generat. animal. l. 4. c. o. & Phi. l. 8. c. 10. & Phil. Pigafet, apud Purch. pilgr. vol 2. l. 7. c. 4 ſect. 3. ↩
413. Montague Eſſayes. l. 2. c. 12. ↩
414. Ariſt. hiſt. an[•]m. l. 6. c. 37. ↩
415. Plin. l. 10. c. 65. ↩
416. Hiſt. an. ut ſup. (n) ↩
417. Eph. Hiſt. anim. l. 5. c. 16. ↩
418. Lib. 7. c. 6. & Senec. conſolat. ad Marciam. c. 23. ↩
419. Lib. 7. c. 2. ↩
420. Kickerm. ſyſt. phyſic. l. 3. c. 10. ↩
421. Cardan. ſubt. l. 8. in. p. 333. ↩
422. Cardan. ubi ſupra (u) in p. 325. & Scalig. Exerc. 158. & Purch. pilgr. Tom. 4. l. 7. c. 5. ſect. 1. ↩
423. Leo. Heb. de Amor. dial. 2. in p. 384. & Nuiſem[•]nttraict du[•]ſol & [•]del eſprit u[•]iverſ. l. 2. c. [•]. in p. 102, 103, 115. & l. 1. c. 4. in p. 26 &c. 7. & Marſ. Ficin. de vita. [•]ae, com. l. 3. c. 16. & Alb. mag. de reb. m[•]tal. l. 3. c. 10. ↩
424. Joan de [•]eung complant de Nature l. B. p. 246. vide T. C. vol. 1. p. 719, 730. & Dan. Mylium in opere Medico chym. par. 2. praefat. par. 4. de primo mobili, ſen ſol[•]. ↩
425. Denique quod longo venit impece, ſumere debec m[••]bilitatem, etiam atque etiam quae creſcit eundo, & validas auget vires & roborat ictum. Lucret. lib. 6. ↩
426. G. Agricol. de nat. foſſil. l. 5. c. 14. & l. 6. c. 7. ↩
427. Paracelſ. lib. de Tranſmut. rerum nat. Tom. 6. p. 234. ↩
428. Vide Auto. incert. de princ[•]p. Nat. & Arte alchym. Harmoniae Imperſcrut. chymicophil. decad. 1. in p. 12. & Nuiſ[•]ment trai[••]. du fol. &c. c. 3. p. 24. ↩
429. Camel. Leonard de Lapid. lib. 2. & Joſeph. Michel. Apol. chym. in p. 175. & Wolfgang. Gab. comment. ad And. Bacii lib. de gem. & lap. c. 5. & 16. ↩
430. Camil. Leonard ubi (d) ↩
431. Camil. Leonard ubi (d) ↩
432. Diſcors del Mat. nel D[•]oſcor. l. 5. c. 114. ↩
433. Lib. 7. cap. 3. & l. 31. c. 10. & Libav. comment. Alch. par. 2. l. 6. de judic. aq. mineral. par. 3. in p. 188. ↩
434. G. Agric. de nat. foſſil. l. 1. ↩
435. De his omnibus, [•]ide Dioſcorid. de. Mer. Medic. l. 6. c. 43. & l. 4. c. 85. ↩
436. Gab. ubi ſupra ad (d) cap. 9. ↩
437. Hieron. Rubeus de diſtillat. ſect. 2. c. 20. ↩
438. G. Agric. de nat. corum quae effluunt è terr. l. 4. c. 3. ↩
439. Guil. Caeſar. Capaccio Antichita di Pozzuel. cap. 13 & St. Albans de Aug. Scient. l. 4. c. 2. & Joſe. Quercitan. Hermet. Medicin. defenſ. cap. 22. and Cambden ſaith as much of the Baths in Somerſitſhire. Sed quid? Sulphurerum nolumus eſſe locum. Necham. Ibid. ↩
440. Paracelſ. Archid. magic. l. 5. Tom. 11. in p. 149, 151, 153, 154. ↩
441. Lib. 33. c. 4. Vide Card. ſubt. l. 6. in. p. 239. ↩
442. Aes uſtum. Plutarch. ſympoſ. l. 3. q. 10. Fallop. de met. c. 14. ↩
443. Crocus martis. Fallop. ib. ca. 20. ↩
444. Fuligo mettallorum Arſenic. Realgar, Auripigmentū, & ſimul Parac. de Morb. Metal. lib. 2. cap. 3. Tom. 5. in p. 21. ↩
445. Dioſcorid. l. 5. c. 58. & Fallop. c. 29. ↩
446. Simpl. l. 4. c. 19. & l. 5. c. 18. vide Fernel. de abd. rer. cauſ. l. 2. c. 15. & Fallop. ubi ſupia c. 37. ↩
447. Matthiol. nel l. 6. di Dioſcor. c. 28. & Fallop. de Metal. c. 37. & Libav. Tom. 1. Syntag. l. [•]. c. 13. & Horat. Augenius. Tom. 1. l. 1. Ep ſt. 1. ↩
448. S[•]mplicius l. 9. c. 19. citatur a Mat. Vutzer. in anatom. Spagyr. Merc. l. 1. c. 4. & R[•]sponſ. ad Aubert. T. C. Vol. 2. in. p. 167. ↩
449. Vide P. Severin. Dan. Id. Med. Philoſoph. c. 8. in p. 127. & Paracelſ. l. de Mort. rerum. natural. Tom. 6. in p. 216. ↩
450. And. Bacius de gem. nat. c. 17. ↩
451. Vide Anto. Moſen. Patric. Venet. de tranſ. his ad Deun. l. 1. c. 44. in p. 468. & Roſar. abbrev. T. C. Vol. 3. in p. 699. ↩
452. Cardan. varietat. l. 8. c. 44. ↩
453. Joſeph. Quercitan. Herm[•]t. Med. defenſ. c. 24. & Severin: Dan. Id. Med. Phil. cap. 15. & Dan. Mylius oper. medicochym. praefat. ad Baſilie. Philoſoph part. 5. de Auro. ↩
454. Vide Hier. Rubeum de diſtillat. S[•]ct. [••]. c. 5. & Sect. 2. c. 20. ↩
455. Paracelſ. in man. Philoſ. Tom. 6. in p. 316—319. & In Fragment. de vita longa l. 3. c. 8. Tom. 6. in p. 168. ↩
456. Franceſco Sanſovino del governo de S. regin. lib. 6. in fine. ↩
457. Plato in Phaedro. ↩
458. Gerard. Dorn. Artis Chymiſtica l. 1. c. 9. T. C. Vol. 1. in p. 218. & alias paſſim. ↩
459. Elementa & Elementata omnia vivere fuſè probat Gul. Gilbert. de Magnet. l. 5. c. 12. per totum. & Fortun. Licet. ſparſi exertim verò de ſpo[•]t. vivent. ort. l. 3. c. 14, 15, &c. & Plotin. En nead. 6. l. 7. c. 11. in p. 703. ↩
460. Ariſt. de animal. l. 2. c. 4. & Fort. Licet. de vit. l. 2. c. 16. in p. 359. & Algavel. l. 2. t[•]act. 4. c. 1. de anim. vegetat. ↩
461. Cardan. ſubtil. l. 5. in p. 199 Omne mortem obiens vivens eſt. Fort. Licet. de ſpont. viv. ortu. l. 3. c. 2. ↩
462. Vide Fran. Georg. Venet. de barmonia mundi totius Cant. 2. Tom. 1. c. 6. & Diſcorſ. del. Mathi. nel. 5. lib. di Dioſcor. in prooemio. & P. Sever. Danus Id. Med. Phil. c. 2. & Comment. in Her. lib. de lap. Phil. ſecret. T. C. vol. 4. in p. 759. & Tho. campanel. de ſenſu. re[•]ū. l. 3. c. 13. ↩
463. Idem cardan. de ſubt. l. 5. in p. 210. ↩
464. De vet. nov. metal. l. 2. & de I'ua. Rutil. Claud. Numat. Gal. ap. Onuph. Panum. in urb. Romae deſcript. l. 1. & G. Fal. Tract. de Therm. aq. ac. met. c. 5. & Geo. Fabrit. obſer. de r[•]. net. in fo. 20. 22. ↩
465. Cardan. ſub. l. 9. in p. 239. & St. Albans ſyl. ſyl. Cent. 8. Exp. 97. & G. Agricola de ort. & cauſ. ſubterran. lib 5. ↩
466. l. 8. de nat. foſsilium. ↩
467. Lib. de generat. rerum naturalium. Tom. 6. in p. 207. Vide Alex. ab Alex. dier. gen. l. 4. c. 9. & Scalig. Exer. 102. 1. et B. Ful. l. 1. c. 6. ap. Sim. Maiol. Aſt. Coll. 19. met. ↩
468. G. Agric. de ort. et cauſ. ſubter. l. 3. ↩
469. S[•]m[•]n res eſt inviſibilis, ſed Sperma viſibile. Sendivog. Tract. 7. T. C. Vol. 4. in p. 490. & Anonym. phyſ. reſtit. enchirid. Can. 186. & Ariſt. de g[•]nerat. animal. l. 2. c. 3. ↩
470. P[•]rdices. Plin. l. 10. c. 33. & Jul. Solin. polyhiſt. c[•]p. 12. & M. Varro de Ag[•]ic. l. 3. c. 11. Apud Jo. Comerte. Concil in pr fat. [•]lini lo. ↩
471. Immortalia ſunt n. om[•]ia perfectè miſta, tam[•]tſi non in individuis, at in ſpeciebus ſuis. Anon. Enchirid. phyſ. reſt. Can. 166. & 186. ↩
472. Vide Aurel. Angurel. Chryſ. l. 2. T. C. Vol. 3. p. 214. ↩
473. Vide P. Bonus Ferrar. Margarit. pret. c. 3. T. C. Vol. 5. p. 679. ↩
474. Dio. Z[•]char. T. C. Vol. 1. p. 810. & P. Bon. marg. preti. c. 9. T. C. Vol. 5. in p 677. ↩
475. Augurell. Chryſ. li. 2. T. C. Vol. 3. in p. 216. ↩
476. G. Merul. Mem. l. 3 c. 43. & Sil. Gyrald. Camb. Topograph. Hiber. Diſtinct. 1. c. 11 & Alex. ab Alex. l 4. c. 9. & Ibach. Vadian. Com. ad Pompon. Mela. l. 3. Et Mi[•]b. Mayer qui integrum tract. ſcrip. de voluc. arboria. Et Bapt. Poſt. l. 2. c. 3. & Card. Var. l. 7. c. 36. & Scal. Exer. 59. 2. & Fort. licet. de ſpon. viv. ort. l. 3. c. 47. & Ortelius in deſcript. Hioern. & du Bart. fixicſme jour. & Dith. Blefken. deſcript. Iſland. & Brem. Paliſſy. Traicte de Pierres, &c. & Purch. Pilgrim. Tom. 3. l. 3. c. 22. ↩
477. Plin. l. 10. c. 3. & Phile. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] c. 1. & Card. de variet. l. 16. c. 89. & Theophyl. Simo[•]atus, [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. & [•]lbert Mag. l. d. mirab. mundi. ↩
478. De natur. eorum quae eff. è [•]err. l. 2. ↩
479. Card. ſubt. l. 2. & G. Merul. mem. l. 3. c. 4. & Matthiol. diſcors. vel l. 5. de Dioſcor. in proem. & Leand. Alberti deſcrit. de tutta Italia. in f. 49. & Cambden ſaith as much of a Well in Leiceſt ſhire neer Lutterworth, and another near Knaresborough in Yorkſhire. & Sen. nat. quaeſt. l. 3. c. 20. & Poutan. de Meteor. c. 44. ↩
480. De varietat. l. 2. c. 7. & Nuiſement Poem. Philoſoph. ↩
481. G. Agric. de Foſſ l. 9. & Cardan. ſubt. l. 6. in p. 227. & Parac. l. de Tinct. Phyſ. c. 6. T. C. in p. 278, & M. Mayer. ſymb. aur. mens. lib. 11. ↩
482. De Nat. eorum quae [•]ff. e terr. l. 1. & 2. ↩
483. Cambden in Scot. ↩
484. l. 31. c. 1. & Sen. nat. quaest. l. 3. c. 25. & Purch. Pilgrim. Tom. 3. l. 5. c. 1. ↩
485. Plin. l. 30. c. ult. & Vitruvius ap. Ant. Muret. in vot. ad ſen. ubi ſupra ([•]) & Card. Subt. l. 2. p. 136. ↩
486. Card ſubt. l. 6. p. 227. ↩
487. G. Agric. de ort & cauſ. ſub. l. 3. & de [•]at. foſſil. l. 3. ↩
488. Paracelſ. l. de Mort. r[•]r. nat Tom 6. p 218. & Gaſto Claveus. Apol. Argyr[•]t. & Chryſop. [•]. C. Vo[•] 2. [••] p. 41. ↩
489. Cum a h[•]mer [••]rroſeri[•] py[•••••] & aeroſum & friab[•]lem, fi[•]talis ſuccus aſtringens G. Agric. de Ort. & Cauſ. ſubter. l. 3. ↩
490. Sum perfect. par l. 2. l. 2 c. 23. ↩
491. Paracelſ. l de Tranſmut. rerum Tom. 6. in p. 236 ↩
492. G Agric. [〈…〉] foſsil. l. 1 & l. 8. & Bapt. Port. nat. mag l 5 c. 7. ↩
493. Pa[•]ac. l. de tranſ[•]rer tom. 6 in p. 235. ↩
494. Card de [••]b[•] l 6 in p. 242 & [〈…〉] Mag. de reb me[•]tall. 2. c. 2. in. p. 196. ↩
495. Ariſt. meteorol. l. 4. c. 6. ↩
496. de nat. foſſil. l. 9. & Keckerm. Syſt. phyſ. l. 5. c. 4. ↩
497. Paracelſ. l. de tinct. phyſ. c. 6. tom. 6. p. 278. & Cuſan. de ſtatic. exper. Idiotae l. 4. in p. 176. ↩
498. De tranſmut. rer. nat. tom. 6. in p. 234, 235. ↩
499. Et hoe eſt ſpiſſum rarefacere & alleviare ponderoſum, ex quo omne ſubtile dignius eſt greſſo, ſicut omne rarum ſpiſſo. Avicen. T. C. vol. 4. p. 991. ↩
500. Vide Joan. Iſaac. Holland. oper. miner. l. 1. c. 16. T. C. vol. 3 in p. 312. Et Conſil. Conjug. Sol & Luna. lib. 1. T. C. vol. 5. in p. 483. Et Phil. Gal. Delphin. Avon. T. C. vol. 3. p. 825. ↩
501. Detranſmut. Meta[•]. c. 1. T. C. vol. 1. p. 539. Et Paracelſ. de Cal. Ph[•]l. ſive lib. Venat. 6. p. 291. Et And. Libit. Alch. l. 2. tract. 1. de Magiſter. cap. 24. ↩
502. Rich. Angl Correct. T. C. vol. 2. in p. 425. & Taulad animad. i▪ Bra[•]eſ. cap. 7. p. 350. Et Roſar. Philoſ. Art. Aurif. vol. 2. in p. 337, 338. ↩
503. De vit. Cael[••]us compar. l. 3. c. 3. p. 175. ↩
504. De addit. rerum cauſ. l. 2. c. 17. ↩
505. Baſil. Valentin. clav. 6. in p. 42. ↩
506. 781250000000. ↩
507. Rippley diſſolut. port. 2. Stanz. 6. & Calcinat. gat. 1 Stanz. 11. & Recapitul. Stanz. 3. ↩
508. Vide Jo. Tab. in Pallad. Spagyric. c. 29. in p. 378. ↩
509. Roſar. Phil. ars aurif. vol. 2. p. 240. citat â Luca Rodarg. lib. de Solut. Philoſ. c. 25. T. C. Vol. 5 in p. 846. ↩
510. Si decem ſunt multa, & duo pauca, ſex ipſius rei media capiantur. Ariſt. Ethic. li. 2. c. 6. ↩
511. R[•]pl. li. de Mer[•]. & lap. Phil T. C. vol. 3. in p. 876. ↩
512. Phil. Rovill. practic. lib. G. p. 115. ↩
513. Ripley multiplic. the 11. Ga[••] Stanz. 2. ↩
514. In Jone, et Plin. l. 34. c. 14 Et D. Aug. de Civitate Dei, li. 21. c. 4. Et Lucret. l. 6. Et G. Agricol. de de nat. foſſil. l. 5. c. 3. Et Cor. Agrip. de occult. Phil. li. 1. ca. 16. ↩
515. Quid ſi cuncta etiam fint uni ſubdita formae. Quae ſpecie vulgo prohibent differre metalla? E quibus extiterit quod cunque impurius atque Cordibus infectum terreſtribus exuet omue Arte luem citius, &c. Augr. Aug. Chryſ. l. 1. T. C. vol. 3. in. p. 195. Et Rog. Bacho. ſpecul. Alchym. c. 7. T. C. Vol. 2. in p. 417 Et Alb. magn. T. C. Vol. 4. in p. 969. ↩
516. Avic. tracta[•]ul. (vel ut habetur, T. C. vol. 4. in p. 948. Alb. mag. li. 8. cap.) c. 2. Art. Aurif. vol. 1. in p. 410. ↩
517. Qui materiam primam fictitiam ct umbratils naturae fundamentum poſuerunt. Anonym. enchyr. phiſ. reſt. Can. 13. ↩
518. See St. Alban. nat. hiſt. Cent. 9. ca. 37. Vide P. Bon. Fer Margarit. pretios. cap. 26. T. C. vol. 5. in p. 761. ↩
519. P. Bon. Ferrar. Marg. pret. c. 20. T. C. vol. 3. in p. 760. ↩
520. Dion, Zachar. T. C. vol. 3. in p. 797. ↩
521. Cardan viriet. l. 8. c. 43 ↩
522. Plutarch. quaeſt. convival. l. 4. q. 2. Et Plin. l. 2. c. 21. Et Sen. nat. q. l. 2. c. 31. Et Mars. Fic. de vit. cael. comp. l. 3. c. 16. Et Du Ba[•]t. on ſecond jour de le ſepmaine. ↩
523. Arist. Meteorolog. l. 3. c. 1. & Sen. ubi ſupra (s) c. 52. Et Card. ſubtil. l. 1. p. 58. ↩
524. Oſwaldus Vogel. Belg. l. de lap. phyſ. condit. c. 4. T. C. Vol. 3. in p. 613 Et Mich. Scot. de nat. Solia et Luna T. C. Vol. 5. in p. 798. ↩
525. Phil. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. c. 16. Et Nicand. in Theriaca. Et G. Piſid. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉]. ↩
526. Ariſt. Hest. Animal. l. 5. c. 19▪ Et Plin. l. [•]0. c. 67 Et F[•]r[••]icet. deſpont. viv. art. l. 4. c. 54. ↩
527. Vide gloriam mundi Muſaei Hermetici. p. 281. ↩
528. Stella Marina. Plin. l. 9. c. 60. Et Cardan. variet. l. 7. c. 37. ↩
529. Plin. l. 2. c. 103. & Pallad. Spagyric. c. 17. in p. 223. ↩
530. Plin. l. 2. c. 37. [•] ▪ Et Gardan ſubt. l. 2. in p. 5.5. ↩
531. Vide Palladium ſpagyricum, c. 21. in p. 277. 278. ↩
532. Cardan de ſubt. l. 21. in p. 704. ↩
533. Horac car. l. 3. Ode 16. ↩
534. G. Agric. de nat. foſſil. l. 8. c. 9. Et Cardan. Appendix ad c. 2. de rer. varietat. ↩
535. Plin. l. 8. cap. 21. ↩
536. Subt. l. 5. p. 216. ↩
537. Archidox. magi. l. 6. tom. 11. in p. 153. ↩
538. Plin. l. 36. c. 17. & Card. ſubt. l. 7. p. 283, 284. & De Variet. l. 5. c. 19. ↩
539. Ut tragi[•]i Poetae confugiunt ad Deum cum explicare argum[•]nt[•] exitum non poſſ[•]nt. Cic. de nat. deorum l. 1. ↩
540. Franc. Sanchez. lib. Quod nihil ſcitur. in. p. 96. ↩
541. De Ort. & cauſ. ſubte[•]. l. 4. 6. 17 Exertim vero de nat. Foſſil. l. 10. c. 16. ↩
542. La Fountaine des amourex de ſcience. lib. 1. p. 233, 239. ↩
543. Paracelſ. de ſeperat. rer. nat. tom. 6. in p. 242. ↩
544. Paracelſ. de Miner. tract 1. tom. 8. p. 252. ↩
545. Ber. Treviſ. T. C. vol. 1. in p. 768. ↩
546. Ripl. multiplic. part. 11. Stanz. 6. & Epiſtol. Stanz. 23. & Artephius his ſecret Book. lib. M. p 163. & Aur. Augur. Chryſ. l. 2. T. C. vol. 3. p. 216. ↩
547. Pet. Bron: Ferrar. Margarit. pret. ca. 2. T. C. Vol. 5. p. 622, 623. ↩
548. Lib. de vit. longa Tom. 6. in p. 114. ↩
549. Sendivog. Tract. de ſulph. cap. de Jgne, in p. 33. ↩
550. Roſar. abbre. T. C. Vol. 3. in p. 700. & Hermes lib, de lap. phyſ. ſecret. c. 7. T. C. Vol. 4. in p. 762. ↩
551. G. Agricde Ort. & cauſ. ſubter. lib. 5. c. 18. ↩
552. Anno nempe circiter 1500. in Agro Patav. de quo vid[•] Fort. Licet. de recondit. an[•]iq. lucernis, & apud eum complures alios. lib. 1. c. 9. ↩
553. Phyſic. li. 8. c. 10. vid. Haniball Roſſel Calab. in Mer. Pimand. li. 1. comment. 16. quaeſt. 1. cap. 2. ↩
554. Plin. lt. 37. c. 4. ↩
555. In Tabula Smaragdina. ↩
556. Horat. carm. li. 3. od. 4. ↩
557. Scal. Exercit. 74. 3. ↩
558. Plin. li. ult. c. 4. & Aurel. Augurell. Chryſ. li. 2. T. C. Vol. 3. p. 210. & Jul. Solin. Polyhiſt. c. 65. & Joach. Vadian. com. in loc. D. & Aug. de Civi. Dei. l. 21. c. 24. & Theophil. Symocat. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] a. & i. & Auſelm. Meianus, a monte Meiano in Enhicrid. 60. quaeſt. 29. & G. Agricola de nat. foſſil. li. 6. c. 9. & Cardanus auſus eſt negare, de ſubtil li. 7. in p. 253. ↩
559. Prov. 22. 2. Eccleſ. 33, 16. & 42. 24. & Georg. Venet. Harmon. Mundi. Cant. 2. Tom. 4. cap. 9. [〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉] Plat. Eunead. 1. lib. 8. & Proſper. Opuſc. de provid. Dei in p. 522. & Sendivog. de ſulph. cap. de Igne, in p. 31. & Parae. de gen. rerum nat. lib. 3. tom. 6. p. 208. ↩
560. Plin. lib. 8. cap. 21. & Aegidius de vadis. T. C. Vol. 2. in p. 98. ↩
561. Paracelſ. lib. de vexat. ſeu caelo Philos. Can. 5. de Saturno. Tom. 6. in p. 283. ↩
562. Comment▪ in Her. lib. de lap. philoſ. cap. 2. T. C. Vol. 4. in p. 720. ↩
563. Clangor Bu[•]cinae. Art. Aurif. vol. 1. p. 463 & R. Luſ. in Repert. in p. 233. ↩
564. Margar. pretioſ. cap. 14. T. C vol. 5. in p. 710. & M. Seudivog. in Epilog. 12. tractatuum. ↩
565. De tranſmut. met. c. 6. T.C.v. 1. p. 553. ↩
566. Arteph. his ſecret book. p. 202. & Poutan. in epiſt T. C. vol. 3. in p 775. & Baſil. Valent. clav. 10. in p. 46. & Pract. Arnaldi T. C. v. 3. p 769 ↩
567. Ber. Trev. T. C. Vol. 1. in p. 769. ↩
568. In centr▪ ter. eſt ſol cent. & Scudevog. l. 12. Tinct. c. 13. & Coment in Her. l. de lap. Phiſ. Secret. c. 6. T. C. vol. 4. in p. 778. ↩
569. Ep. &c. de lap. philaſ. T. C. vol. 5. p. 894. & Arteph. ſecret book. p. 170. ↩
570. Laud. ſanct. Harmon. imperſ. chym. decad. 1. p. 114. ↩
571. Baſil Valent. clav. 5. in p. 38. ↩
572. Ut per quirenti mentis impetu occurrat citiùs, quam ratione aut ſudore inveniatur. Arcan. Herm. phil. Can. 36. ↩
573. Cardan. ſubt. l. 18. in p. 662. ↩
574. Avonym. Conſil. conjug. Solis & Lunae, ſcu trium verborum. part. 3. T. C. Vol. 5. in p. 563. ↩
575. Indignior quandoque (id eſt quandocunque) dormitat Homerus. Hor. de Art. Poet. ↩