EIRENÆUS PHILALETHES.
In “The Real History of the Rosicrucians,” having no space for an adequate discussion of the question, I followed the more general opinion of Hermetic writers by identifying the author of the Introitas Apertus with the author of the Lumen de Lumine, Thomas Vaughan, and concluded that he wrote indifferently under the pseudonyms of Eugenius Philalethes and Eirenæus Philalethes.
Certain misleading references in great but fallible bibliographies, and one piece of inextricable confusion in the text of the Introitus Apertus, made this view appear to be fairly reasonable. However, in the course of a somewhat detailed notice, a writer in the Saturday Review has taken me to task, by no means discourteously, be it said, for inaccuracy in my account of Vaughan.
On the authority of Ashmole and Wood, he states that this personage was the brother of the Silurist poet, Henry Vaughan, that he was born at Llansaintfraid, in Brecknockshire, during the year 1621, that he graduated at Jesus College, Oxford, took orders, and returned to hold the living of his native parish. Under the Commonwealth he was ejected as a Royalist, and then betook himself to chemical experiments, one of which cost him his life on the 27th of February 1665.
Now, it is clear that these facts do not correspond with the life, such as we know it, of the author of the Introitus Apertus, and the identification of the two Philalethes, a habit which is apparently unknown to the Saturday Reviewer, must be therefore abandoned. Why this identification has hitherto taken place, and why, with some misgivings, it was continued in my work on the Rosicrucians, may be very easily explained.
The grounds of the confusion are these:—First, the similarity of the assumed name, half of which was common to them both, while the other half appears to have been interchangeable in the minds of historians and bibliographers alike, including the compilers of the Catalogue in the Library of the British Museum, which attributes the Introitus Apertus indiscriminately to both Philalethes. Second, the fact that almost every edition and translation of this treatise contains the following passage in the initial paragraph of the preface:—
“I being an adept, anonymous, and lover of learning, decreed to write this little Treatise of physical secrets in the year 1645, in the twenty-third year of my age, to pay my duty to the sons of art, and lend my hand to bring them out of the labyrinth of error, to show the adepts that I am a brother equal to them. I presage that many will be enlightened by these my labours. They are no fables, but real experiments, which I have seen, made, and know, as any adept will understand. I have often in writing laid aside my pen, because I was willing to have concealed the truth under the mask of envy; but God compelled me to write, Whom I could not resist: He alone knows the heart—to Him only be glory for ever. I undoubtedly believe that many will become blessed in this last age of the world with this arcanum. May the will of God be done! I confess myself unworthy of effecting such things—I adore the holy will of God, to Whom all things are subjected! He created and preserves them to this end.”
A simple arithmetical operation will show that the author was consequently born in the year 1621, when also Eugenius Philalethes, otherwise Thomas Vaughan, first saw the light. This would remain unchallenged, but for the fact that the original edition[AH] of the Introitus is asserted to read trigesimo anno, in the thirty-third year, instead of vigesimo anno. There is no copy of this original edition in the British Museum, and my knowledge of it is derived from the reprint in Langlet du Fresnoy’s Histoire de la Philosophie Hermétique. Eirenæus, in accordance with the later impressions, is venerated by the faithful of Hermes as the adept who accomplished the grand and sublime act at the age of twenty-two.
These grounds, which in themselves are considerable, may be supplemented by the fact that there is much similarity in the style and methods of the two writers.
Eugenius Philalethes wrote Anthroposophia Theomagica; Anima Magica Abscondita, published together in 1650; Magia Adamica, 1650; “The Man-Mouse” (a satire on Henry More, the Platonist); “The Second Wash, or The Moore (i.e., Henry More) Scoured once more,” 1651; Lumen de Lumine, 1651; “The Fame and Confession of the Fraternity R.C.,” 1652; Aula Lucis, 1652; “Euphrates, or The Waters of the East,” 1655. “A Brief Natural History,” published in 1669, also bears his name, and in 1679 his poetical remains were published by Henry, his brother, along with some effusions of his own, entitled Thalia Rediviva.
Some idea of the confusion which exists in the minds of biographers and bibliographers alike on this point may be gathered from the fact that some authorities represent Thomas Vaughan as dying in 1656, while Chalmers’ Biographical Dictionary attributes all the works of Eugenius Philalethes to Henry the Silurist, whom he terms a Rosicrucian fanatic.
If much be confusion which concerns Thomas Vaughan, all is chaos in respect of Eirenæus Philalethes. He would appear to have emigrated to America at a comparatively early period. The Amsterdam original edition of his Experimenta de Præparatione Mercurii Sophici, which was issued by Daniel Elzevir in 1668, describes that work as ex manuscripto philosophi Americani, alias Æyrenæi Philalethes, natu Angli, habitatione Cosmopolitæ. In this way, those who have refrained from identifying him with Thomas Vaughan, carefully confuse him with George Starkey, also an Anglo-American, who claimed a familiar acquaintance with Philalethes, and who, owing his initiation to him, may be considered his philosophical son, but not his alter ego. Starkey returned to London, and wrote several chemical books, some of which detail the transmutations performed by Philalethes in the apothecary’s trans-atlantic laboratory. He died of the plague in London in 1665, while Eirenæus continued publishing for many years after that date, and lived for some time on intimate terms with the illustrious Robert Boyle, who, however, has given us no biographical particulars concerning him.
Not the least curious fact in the history of this mysterious adept is the apparently complete disappearance of numbers of his printed works, which an authentic list extends to some forty volumes, some of which seem perfectly unknown and unheard of by bibliographers and collectors alike. Langlet du Fresnoy enumerates several manuscript treatises, but gives no clue to their whereabouts.
It is from the books of Philalethes himself that we must be contented to glean the scanty facts of his life. The thirteenth chapter of the Introitus Apertus ad Occlusum Regis Palatium contains the following remarkable account of its author:—
“All alchemical books abound with obscure enigmas and sophistical operations. I have not written in this style, having resigned my will to the Divine pleasure. I do not fear that the art will be disesteemed because I write plainly, for true wisdom will defend its own honour. I wish gold and silver were as mean in esteem as earth, that we need not so strictly conceal ourselves. For we are like Cain, driven from the pleasant society we formerly had without fear; now we are tossed up and down as if beset with furies; nor can we suppose ourselves safe in any one place long. We weep and sigh, complaining to the Lord, ‘Behold, whosoever shall find me will slay me!’ We travel through many nations like vagabonds, and dare not take upon us the care of a family, neither do we possess any certain habitation. Although we possess all things we can use but a few; what, therefore, do we enjoy except the speculations of our minds? Many strangers to this art imagine that if they enjoyed it they would do great good; so I believed formerly, but the danger I have experienced has taught me otherwise. Whoever encounters the eminent peril of his life will act with more caution thenceforward. I found the world in a most wicked state, scarce a man but is guided by some selfish and unworthy motive, however honest or upright he is judged in public. An adept cannot effect the works of mercy to an uncommon extent without in some degree confiding to the secrecy of others, and this is at the hazard of imprisonment and death. I lately had a proof of it; for, being in a foreign place, I administered the medicine to some distressed poor persons who were dying, and they having miraculously recovered, there was immediately a rumour spread abroad of the elixir of life, insomuch that I was forced to fly by night with exceeding great trouble, having changed my clothes, shaved my head, put on other hair, and altered my name, else I would have fallen into the hands of wicked men that lay in wait for me, merely on suspicion, excited by the thirst of gold. I could mention other dangers which would seem ridiculous to those who did not stand in a similar situation. They think they would manage their affairs better, but they do not consider that all those intelligent people, whose society is chiefly desirable, are extremely discerning, and a slight conjecture is enough to produce a conspiracy; for the iniquity of men is so great that I have known a person to have been strangled with a halter on suspicion; although he did not possess the art, it was sufficient that a desperate man had report of it. This age abounds with ignorant alchemists; however ignorant of science, they know sufficient to discover an adept, or to suspect him. An appearance of secresy will cause them to search and examine every circumstance of your life. If you cure the sick, or sell a large quantity of gold, the news is circulated all through the neighbourhood. The goldsmith knows that the metal is too fine, and it is contrary to law for any one to alloy it who is not a regular metallurgist. I once sold pure silver worth £600 in a foreign country. The goldsmith, notwithstanding I was dressed as a merchant, told me ‘this silver was made by art.’ I asked the reason he said so. He replied, ‘I know the silver that comes from Spain, England, &c. This is purer than any of them.’ Hearing this I withdrew. There is no better silver in trade than the Spanish, but if I had attempted to reduce my silver from its superior purity, and was discovered, I would be hanged for felony. I never called again for either the silver or the price of it. The transmission of gold and silver from one country to another is regulated by strict laws, and this is enough to condemn the adept who appears to have a quantity of it. Thus, being taught by these difficulties, I have determined to lie hid, and will communicate the art to thee who dreamest of performing public good, that we may see what you will undertake when you obtain it.
“The searcher of all hearts knows that I write the truth; nor is there any cause to accuse me of envy. I write with an unterrified quill in an unheard of style, to the honour of God, to the profit of my neighbours, with contempt of the world and its riches; because Elias the artist is already born, and now glorious things are declared of the city of God. I dare affirm that I do possess more riches than the whole known world is worth, but I cannot make use of it because of the snares of knaves. I disdain, loathe, and detest the idolizing of silver and gold, by which the pomps and vanities of the world are celebrated. Ah, filthy evil! Ah, vain nothingness? Believe ye that I conceal the art out of envy? No, verily I protest to you, I grieve from the very bottom of my soul that we are driven like vagabonds from the face of the Lord throughout the earth. But what need many words? The thing we have seen, taught, and made, which we have, possess, and know, that we do declare; being moved with compassion for the studious, and with indignation of gold, silver, and precious stones, not as they are creatures of God, far be it from us, for in that respect we honour them, and think them worthy of esteem, but the people of God adore them as well as the world. Therefore let them be ground to powder like the golden calf! I do hope and expect that within a few years money will be as dross; and that prop of the anti-Christian beast will be dashed to pieces. The people are mad, the nations rave, an unprofitable wight is set up in the place of God. At our long expected and approaching redemption, the New Jerusalem shall abound with gold in the streets, the gates thereof shall be made with entire stones, most precious ones, and the tree of life in the midst of Paradise shall give leaves for the healing of the nations. I know these my writings will be to men as pure gold; and through them gold and silver will become vile as dirt. Believe me, the time is at the door, I see it in spirit, when we, adeptists, shall return from the four corners of the earth, nor shall we fear any snares that are laid against our lives, but we shall give thanks to the Lord our God. I would to God that every ingenious man in the whole earth understood this science; then it would only be valued for its wisdom, and virtue only would be had in honour. I know many adepts who have vowed a most secret silence. I am of another judgment because of the hope I have in my God; therefore I consulted not with my brethren, or with flesh and blood, in these my writings: God grant that it be to the glory of His name!”
We are told in the preface to “Ripley Revived” the authors to whom he was at any rate chiefly indebted. “For my own part, I have cause to honour Bernard Trévisan, who is very ingenious, especially in the letter to Thomas of Boulogne, where I seriously confess I received the main light in the hidden secret. I do not remember that ever I learned anything from Raymond Lully. Some who are not adepts give more instruction to a beginner than one whom perfect knowledge makes cautious. I learned the secret of the magnet from one, the chalybs from another, the use of Diana’s Doves from a third, the air or cameleon from another, the gross preparation of the dissolvent in another, the number of eagles in another; but for operations on the true matter and signs of the true mercury, I know of none like Ripley, though Flamel be eminent. I know what I say, having learned by experience what is truth and what is error.
“I have read misleading, sophistical writers, and made many toilsome, laborious experiments, though but young; and having at length, through the undeserved mercy of God, arrived at my haven of rest, I shall stretch out my hand to such as are behind. I have wrote several treatises, one in English, very plain but not perfected—unfortunately, it slipped out of my hand. I shall be sorry if it comes abroad into the world—two in Latin, Brevis Manuductio ad Rubinem Cœlestem, and Fons Chymicæ Philosophiæ—these, for special reasons, I resolve to suppress. Two others I lately wrote, which, perhaps, you may enjoy, namely, Ars Metallorum Metamorphoses, and Introitus Apertus ad Occlusum Regis Palatium. I wrote two poems in English, which are lost; also, in English, an Enchiridion of experiments, a diurnal of meditations, with many receipts declaring the whole secret, and an Enigma annexed. These also fell into the hands of one who, I conceive, will never restore them.”
The delinquent in question was undoubtedly George Starkey, who published the “Marrow of Alchemy” under the name of Eirenæus Philoponos Philalethes; this metrical account of the Hermetic theory and practice is apparently the vanished verse of the adept, but it contains in addition an account of the editor’s own initiation, which is certainly worth transcribing.
“I have now to assert, from my own experience, facts of transmutation of which I was an eye-witness. I was well acquainted with an artist with whom I have often conversed on the subject, and I saw in his possession the white and the red elixir in very large quantity. He gave me upwards of two ounces of the white medicine, of sufficient virtue to convert 120,000 times its weight into the purest virgin silver. With this treasure I went to work ignorantly upon multiplication, and was caught in the trap of my own covetousness, for I expended or wasted all this tincture. However, I made projection of part of it, which is sufficient for my present purpose, enabling me to assert the possibility of the art from ocular demonstration. I have tinged many times hundreds of ounces into the best silver. Of a pound of mercury I have made within less than a scruple of a pound of silver; of lead, little more waste; but ’tis wondrous to see tin—although a dross was burnt from it, yet its weight increased in the fire. I essayed the medicine on copper, iron, even on brass and pewter, on spelter, solder, tinglass, mercury, and on regulus of antimony; and I can say with truth it conquers all metallic things, and brings them all to perfection. I found there was nothing akin to it but it would tinge into pure silver. Even perfect gold was penetrated and changed into a white glass, that would transmute, but in small quantity, inferior metals into silver; but when this silver was assayed it was found to abide aquafortis, cupel of antimony, and weighed as gold, so that it was white gold. This was because the white tincture had fermented with red earth, and both virtues coming into projection, produced silver-coloured gold, or silver equalling gold in perfection, but wanting its hue. I did not know the value of this silver till my medicine was nearly gone, and sold eighty ounces of it at the common price, though it was as valuable as gold. I projected the medicine on pure silver, and had a chrystalline metal, like burnished steel or mirror, but there was no increase of virtue in this; it tinged only so much as it would if it had not been projected on silver.
“The artist who gave me this is still living; I prize him as my own life; I wish his happiness, for he has been a sure friend. He is at present on his travels, visiting artists and collecting antiquities as a citizen of the world. He is an Englishman of an ancient, honourable family, who now live in the place wherein he was born. He is scarcely thirty-three years of age, and is rarely learned. You cannot know more of him from me, nor can you be acquainted with him; his acquaintance with me is as unexpected as his love was cordial. I had often seen by experiment that he was master of the white and red before he would vouchsafe to trust me with a small bit of the stone, nor would I press him, trusting for his courtesy soon or late, which I shortly received, by what I have said of the white medicine, and also a portion of his mercury.
“He told me this mercury was a matchless treasure, if God would open my eyes to the use of it, else I might grope in blindness. With this dissolvent, which is the hidden secret of all masters, he exceedingly multiplied his red stone. I saw him put a piece of the red, by weight, into that same mercury, which then digested, dissolved it, and made it change colour, and in three days it passed through the process of black, white, and red.
“I thought that if the red and white could be multiplied that one lineal progress led to either, and on this false ground I destroyed ten parts in twelve of my medicine. This loss did not suffice me, for I mixed the remaining two parts with ten times their weight of Luna, and fell to work again, hoping to make up for my first error. I then began to think upon the maxims of the old books, revolved in my mind the agreement of my work with the laws of Nature, and at length I concluded that each thing is to be disposed according to its condition.
“When I found that my vain attempts only threw away the tincture, I stopped my hand, resolving to keep the few grains left for some urgent necessity, which for its preservation I mixed with ten parts of Luna.
“I tried some of the mercury before mentioned on gold, my desire being to see the work carried forward and brought to Luna, if not to Sol. This, then, I projected on mercury. After having alloyed it with silver it tinged fifty parts, and I strove to imbibe it, but in vain, because I had let it cool. I foolishly supposed to obtain the oil by imbibition. However, Nature carried on the work into blackness, the colours, and whiteness, which yet was far short of what I looked for.
“In these trials I wasted nearly all my mercury likewise; but I had for my consolation the witnessing of transmutations, and those extraordinary processes which I beheld with mine own eyes, and blessed God for seeing.
“In some time I met my good friend and told all my mishaps, hoping that he would supply me as before; but he, considering that my failures had made me wise, would not trust me with more, lest I should pluck the Hesperian tree as I chose for my own and other men’s hurt. He said to me, ‘Friend, if God elects you to this art, He will in due time bestow the knowledge of it; but if in His wisdom He judge you unfit, or that you would do mischief with it, accursed be that man who would arm a maniac to the harm of his fellow-creatures. While you were ignorant, I gave you a great gift, so that, if Heaven ordained, the gift should destroy itself. I see it is not right you should enjoy it at present; what providence denies I cannot give you, or I should be guilty of your misconduct.’
“I confess this lesson of divinity did not please me; as I hoped so much from him, his answer was a disappointment. He further said that God had granted me knowledge, but withheld the fruit of it for the present.
“Then I gave him to understand how I had discovered the skill of the water, ‘by which, in time, I may obtain what you deny, and which I am resolved to attempt.’
“‘If so, then,’ he replied, ‘attend to what I say, and you may bless God for it. Know that we are severely bound by strong vows never to supply any man by our art who might confound the world, if he held it at will; and all the evil he does is left at the door of that adept who is so imprudent. Consider what a prize you had both of the stone and of the mercury. Would not any one say that he must be mad that would throw it all away without profit?
“‘Had you been guided by reason you might have enough of what I gave you. Your method was to add to the purest gold but a grain of the stone; in fusion it would unite to it, and then you might go about the work with your mercury, which would speedily mix with that gold and greatly shorten the work, which you might easily govern to the red; and as you saw how I wedded new gold to such sulphur and mercury, you saw the weight, time, and heat, what more could you have wished? And seeing you know the art of preparing the fiery mercury, you might have as much store as any one.
“‘But you do not perceive by this that God is averse to you, and caused you to waste the treasure I gave you. He sees perhaps that you would break His holy laws and do wrong with it; and though He has imparted so much knowledge, I plainly see that He will keep you some years without the enjoyment of that which no doubt you would misuse. Know, that if you seek this art without a ferment, you must beware of frequent error; you will err and stray from the right path, notwithstanding all your care, and perhaps may not in the course of your life attain this treasure, which is the alone gift of God. If you pursue the straightest course it will take a year to arrive at perfection; but if you take wrong ways, you shall be often left behind, sometimes a year, and must renew your charge and pains, repenting of your loss and error, in much distraction, care, and perils, with an expense you can hardly spare. Attend therefore to my counsel, and I shall disclose the secret conditionally. Swear before the mighty God that you will, for such a time, abstain from the attempt or practice; nor shall you at that time, even if you are at the point of death, disclose some few points that I will reveal to you in secrecy.’
“I swore, and he unlocked his mind to me, and proved that he did not deceive by showing me those lights which I shall honestly recount, as far as my oath will admit.”
Eirenæus Philalethes has the credit of unexampled perspicuity, and his Introitus Apertus, in particular, is an abridgement or digest of the whole turba philosophorum. Those who are in search of the physical secret should begin by the careful study of his works; thence they should proceed to a consideration of the authors whom he himself recommends, after which the best Hermetic writers, from the days of Geber downward, should be taken in their chronological order, carefully analysed, and their points of difference and agreement duly noted.
The physical nature of the alchemical arcana in the custody of the true Philalethes are best seen by the narratives and commentaries of his pupil, George Starkey. The mystery which surrounds the adept stimulates unbalanced imaginations, and dilates into Titanic stature the projects which he cherished and the wonders he is supposed to have accomplished. The Introitus Apertus, amid much that is mystical and much that suggests an exceedingly romantic interpretation, is a treatise of practical alchemy, and further elaborates the principles, evidently physical, that are expounded in the metrical essays which were preserved and made public by Starkey.
FOOTNOTES:
[AH] It was published at Amsterdam in 1667, and is supposed to have been free from the numerous typographical errors of the later editions.