See also Dr. Whewell's account of the doctrine of 'the four elements' in the same work; vol. iii. p. 121.
The history of the rise and growth of the ideas involved in alchemy is ably treated of in the article in the Encyclopaedia Britannica already referred to; it is of some interest to note how some of the more important notions were developed. From ancient Persia came the idea of a correspondence between the heavenly bodies and parts of the human frame, alluded to in Chaucer's Treatise on the Astrolabe, and in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, i. 3. 148[[170]]. From ancient India came the idea of a peregrination of sinful souls through the animal, vegetable, and even the mineral world, till they were absorbed into Deity. Hence was further evolved the notion of a transmutation of elements. The Greeks held that different deities had under their protection and guidance different types of men; an idea still preserved in our words mercurial, jovial, and saturnine. The school of Hippocrates held the doctrine of the four elements, or primary substances of which all others were made, an idea first mentioned (it is said) by Empedocles; to which Aristotle added a fifth element, that of ether (Arist. de Caelo, i. 2). But this idea is probably older; for we find five bhútas, or elements, enumerated in Sanskrit, viz. earth, water, fire, air, and ether; see Benfey's Skt. Dict. s.v. bhú, p. 658. Another very ancient notion is that male and female principles existed in all three worlds alike, animal, vegetable, and mineral; from which it followed that the union of two metals could produce a third. It was argued that 'monstrosities are the productions of diseased metals (really alloys), which, if properly treated, may be cured, and will turn to gold, or at least silver. The second stage in this imitation of nature is to obtain, by tincture or projection, solid or liquid gold, the cure of all evils'; Encycl. Brit. i. 463, col. 2. This notion is still preserved in the word arsenic (Gk. ἀρσενικόν, male). It was universally believed that nature produced changes in the substance of various metals by slow degrees, and the great object of alchemy was to produce the same changes quickly. The chief names in connexion with the progress of alchemy are Geber, a Sabaean, who flourished about A.D. 800; Avicenna, a native of Shiraz, born A.D. 980, died June, 1037; Albertus Magnus, born about 1193, died Nov. 15, 1280, who uses much more intelligible language than alchemists usually indulge in; Raymund Lully, born at Majorca in 1235, a scholar of Roger Bacon, who was himself deeply imbued with the mystery of alchemy; Arnoldus de Villa Nova (mentioned by Chaucer), so named because born at Villeneuve, in Provence, in 1240; and others. Paracelsus[[171]], a Swiss physician (born in 1493, died 1541) was somewhat better than a mere alchemist. He did something towards destroying the notion of the necessity of consulting astrological influences, and prepared the way for the discoveries of Van Helmont (born at Brussels in 1577, died 1644), with whom the history of modern chemistry may be said to begin. Van Helmont was the inventor of two new terms, gas[[172]] and blas, the former of which remains in common use, though the latter is wholly forgotten.
The great storehouse of treatises upon alchemy is the Latin collection, in five volumes, called Theatrum Chemicum. I have made considerable use of the edition of this work published in 1660, which I have frequently quoted in the Notes. We hence gather that most of the authors upon the subject wished men to believe that the true secrets of the science were known to themselves only; yet they all learnt more or less of a certain jargon which they continually repeated, attributing their empirical rules to Hermes, or Geber, or other supposed masters. The same ideas, alleged results, and supposed principles continually recur; and the brief statement of a few of these will at once shew what the reader of an alchemical treatise may expect to find. Much depended on the supposed powers of certain numbers. Thus, there were three primary colours, black, white, and red[[173]], from which all others were produced by combination; Theat. Chem. iv. 536. According to Gower, there were really three kinds of the philosopher's stone, viz. animal, vegetable, and mineral. Some said it was composed of three parts; body, spirit, and soul—corpus, spiritus, and anima; Ashmole's Th. Ch. p. 382. Again, there were four elements; four complexions of nature or temperaments; four colours (said some), viz. white, black, citrine (i.e. gold-coloured, with a purple tinge), and red; four savours, insipid, acid, sweet, and bitter; four odours, sweet, fetid, intense, and slight (remissus); Theat. Chem. iii. 82. In particular, there were four spirits, sulphur, sal ammoniac, quicksilver, and arsenic; see note to line 778; also four states or conditions, hot, cold, wet, and dry; Theat. Chem. iv. 537. There were seven planets; and because there were seven planets, it followed that every planet had a corresponding note in the musical scale of seven notes. Every planet had its proper colour; and, in this view, there were seven colours, sable, vert, gules, or, argent, sanguine, and umber; Batman upon Bartholome, lib. 19, c. 37. Every planet had its proper metal; there were therefore seven metals; see the extract from Gower, in the note to l. 820. Now, as all substances are made of the same four elements, it follows that if a substance can be decomposed, and reunited in different proportions, its nature may be so changed that it shall become another substance. Many substances, if subjected to heat, are destroyed; but metals are not so, and therefore became the favourite subject for experiments. It was laid down that one metal could be transmuted into another, but only after having been first reduced into its primary elements; Theat. Chem. iv. 531. Ere long, it was accepted as an axiom that all baser metals could be transmuted either into gold (or sol), typified by the sun, or into silver (or luna), typified by the moon; these being the two extremes between which the other five metals were ranged. It was agreed that the chief agents in producing this transmutation were quicksilver and sulphur, and of these quicksilver was the more important; so much so, that the mention of quicksilver meets us everywhere, and no alchemist could work without it[[174]]. It was also agreed that certain processes must be gone through in a due order, generally ten or twelve in number; and if any one of them failed, the whole work had to be begun afresh. They are commonly described as (1) calcination, (2) solution, (3) separation of the elements, (4) conjunction, (5) putrefaction, (6) coagulation, (7) cibation, (8) sublimation, (9) fermentation, (10) exaltation, (11) augmentation or multiplication; and (12) projection; Theat. Chem. ii. 175, and Ripley's Compound of Alchemy. By insisting on the necessity of all these processes, alchemists sufficiently guarded against all chances of an unfavourable result, viz. by securing that a result could not very well be arrived at.
The moment that we attempt to analyse their processes more closely, we are met by two difficulties that are simply insuperable: the first, that the same name is clearly used to denote quite different substances; and the second, that the same substance is called by many different names. Hence also arose endless evasions, and arrogant claims to pretended secrets; it was often said that the quicksilver of the alchemists was a substance only known to adepts, and that those who used only ordinary quicksilver knew nothing of the matter. The master could thus always mystify his pupils, and make it appear that he alone, and no one else, knew what he was talking about.
Yet it was frequently alleged that the experiments did succeed. The easiest explanation of this matter is, that the hopes of the alchemists were doubtless buoyed up by the fact that every now and then the experiments appeared to succeed; and it is easy to shew how. The close affinity of quicksilver for gold is well known. I copy the following from a book on experiments, which really suffices to explain the whole matter. 'If a sovereign be rubbed with mercury, it will lose its usual appearance, and appear as if silvered over[[175]]; the attraction of the gold for the mercury being sufficient to cause a coating of it to remain. When it is wished to remove the silvery appearance, dip the sovereign in a dilute solution of nitric acid, which will entirely take it off.' Now the alchemists tell us that quicksilver must always be used in all experiments; and they constantly recommend the introduction into the substances experimented on of a small quantity of gold, which they thought would be increased. The experiments constantly failed; and whenever they failed, the pieces of molten metal were carefully saved, to be used over and over again. The frequent introduction of small quantities of gold caused that metal to accumulate; and if, by any favourable process, the quicksilver was separated from the mass, a considerable quantity of gold would now and then actually appear. This account is so much in accordance with all that we read, that we may confidently accept the conclusion of Dr. Thomson, the author of the History of Chemistry, that the vaunted philosopher's stone was certainly an amalgam of gold; which, 'if projected into melted lead or tin, and afterwards cupellated, would leave a portion of gold; all the gold, of course, that existed previously in the amalgam.' He adds that 'the alchemists who prepared the amalgam could not be ignorant that it contained gold'; a statement which I am inclined to modify by suggesting that it may very easily have contained more gold than they supposed it did. In a word, we may conclude that some deceived themselves, and others were conscious cheats.
Group H.
§ 74. The Manciple's Prologue. In the black-letter editions, this Prologue begins with the 16 lines printed at p. 289 (vol. iv) as the Epilogue to the Nonne Prestes Tale; because, in them, that Tale precedes. See remarks on § 51 above (p. [433]).
The Prologue is self-explanatory; we see how the responsibility passed from the Cook to the Manciple. It is curious that the Cook is addressed as if he had told no Tale hitherto; see, as to this, the remarks on § 28 above (p. [399]).
§ 75. The Maunciples Tale. With respect to this story, Tyrwhitt briefly remarks that 'The Fable of the Crow has been related by so many authors, from Ovid down to Gower, that it is impossible to say whom Chaucer principally followed. His skill in new dressing an old story was never, perhaps, more successfully exerted.'
Chaucer was so familiar with Ovid, and, in particular, with the Metamorphoses, that we may fairly suppose that this was the real source of his Tale; see Metam. ii. 534-632. The last line of his story (H 308), excluding the moral, closely agrees in sense with the last line in Ovid's tale—'Inter aues albas uetuit considere coruum.'