Lumen de Lumine

Hitherto I have discours’d of the first Matter, and the fire of Nature: Termes indeed commonly known, but the things signified are seldome understood. I shall now descend to more abstruse particular principles, Things of that secrecie and subtiltie, they are not so much as thought of, much lesse inquir’d after. The common Chimist dreams of Gold and Transmutations, most noble and Heavenly Effects, but the Means whereby hee would compasse them, are worme-eaten, dustie, mustie papers. His Study and his Noddle are stuff’d with old Receits, he can tell us a hundred Stories of Brimstone and Quick-silver, with many miraculous Legends of Arsenic and Antimonie, Sal gemmae, Sal prunae, Sal Petrae, and other stupendious Alkalies, as he loves to call them; with such strange Notions and Charms doth he amaze, and silence his Auditors, as Batts are kill’d with Thunder at the Eare. Indeed if this Noyse will carry it, let him alone, he can want no Artillery. But if you bring him to the field, and force him to his Polemics, if you demand his Reason, and reject his Recipe, you have laid him as flat as a Flounder. A rationall, methodicall Dispute will undoe him, for he studies not the whole Body of Philosophie: a Receit he would find in an old Box, or an old Book, as if the knowledge of God and Nature were a thing of Chance, not of Reason. This idle Humor hath not only surpris’d the common illiterat Broyler, where in truth there is some Necessity for it, but even great Doctors and Physicians: Bate me the Impostume of their Titles, and their Learning is not Considerable. Hence it comes to passe that so many men are undone in the prosecution of this Art: They are so wedded to old scriblings, they will not submit them to their judgement, but presently bring them to the fire. Certainly they believe such ridiculous Impossibilities, that even brute Beasts if they could speake, would reprove them. Sometimes they mistake their owne Excrements for that Matter out of which Heaven and Earth were made. Hence they drudge, and labour in Urine, and such filthie dirty stuffe which is not fit to be nam’d. But when all comes to all, and their Custard fails them, they quit their filthinesse, but not their error. They think of something thats more Tractable, and dreame perhaps that God made the world of Egge-shels or Flint-stones. Truly these Opinions proceed not only from simple people, but from Doctors forsooth, and Philosophers. It is therefore my Designe to discover some Excellencies of this Art, and make it appeare to the Student that what is Glorious, is withall Difficult. This I suppose may remove that Blind, sluggish Credulity, which prevents all Ingenious Disquisitions, and cause men perhaps to exercise that Reason, which God hath given them for Discoveries. I shall not dwell long on any one particular, I am drawing off the stage in all Haste, and returning to my first solitudes. My Discourse shall be very short, and like the Echo’s last Syllable, Imperfect. I intend it only for Hint and suggestion to the Reader: it is no full Light but a Glance, and he must improve it to his better satisfaction.