Magia Adamica

nothing more than your creed, he said, on which to establish your religion.” Such was the simplicity of those first times: [New translation of the Latin:] “while Christ’s blood was still warm”; [Vaughan’s own explanation:] while his wounds were still before their eyes and his blood warm at their hearts. But alas, those holy drops are frozen. Our salvation has been transferred from the Cross to the rack, and dismembered in Aristotle’s Inquisition-house. Do not be angry, Peripatetic: what else should I call your schools, where Scripture is so earnestly murdered, for and against, by different sects and factions? Resentment, first bred and then promoted by disputes, has minced one truth into a thousand heretical fancies through its damnable divisions and distinctions. Yet the breach goes unconsidered: theology remains mere chaff unless sifted by the engine, unless it performs on the hobby-horse of demonstration. Thus zeal poisoned with logic breathes out contentious fevers, and faith, abandoning her wings and telescope, leans on the reed of a syllogism. I still cannot conceive how reason can judge principles [New translation of the Latin:] “whose truth depends solely on the authority of the one who reveals them”; [Vaughan’s own explanation:] whose certainty depends wholly on God, and consequently cannot be demonstrated without the Spirit of God. But even if I granted what I shall always deny, true faith consists not in reason