The Secret Tradition in Alchemy

Its Development and Records

Arthur Edward Waite

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781136182921
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Philosophy
• Subtopic: Philosophy of Religion

A complete history of alchemy revealing the subject as much more than the attempts in early science of turning base metals into gold or silver, this book goes about intimating the mystical experience underlying hermetic symbolism. It outlines some of the 'secret' inner meanings to alchemy - symbolism, metaphysics, and spirituality. This book contains a universe of information and is worthwhile reading for anyone wanting to know more on this engaging subject. Originally published in 1926.

CHAPTER I

ALCHEMY AND SUPERNATURAL LIFE

WHILE the explorations and discoveries of science grow from more to more and are offering us at this time not all uncertain suggestions of still untrodden fields, on the threshold of which we stand, there are moments also when apparently quixotic quests, beliefs and hopes of a nearer or further past appear to us less extravagant than they did a few decades ago. Among several illustrations the most obvious perhaps is found in the changes of radium, which have reminded every one about the old dream of the alchemists concerning the transmutation of metals, though offering otherwise little to the elucidation of its cryptic records. Between the new demonstrated facts and the untutored experiments promoted by free imagination in the dark of things, there may be nothing better than a surface analogy; but behind these latter there was the faith of the alchemists, howsoever grounded, on the root-unity of such elements as came within their purview, and this also seems passing from realms of speculation towards those of workable hypothesis. Now, it happens that for the majority at this day, Alchemy is little more than a name and a name also are certain books, if indeed any, which have been heard of as devoted to its subject. It is realised very little at least that the old Art, setting China aside, as a world beyond the ken in this particular respect, is represented by a literature which began about the fourth or fifth century of the Christian era, and continued till late in the eighteenth; that a bibliography of the subject would fill a very large volume; that it is in Greek, Syriac, Arabic, Latin, and in the vernaculars of various countries of western Europe—especially German, French, English and even Italian. From beginning to end the texts are written in a strange symbolical language for the express purpose of concealment, so that they are to all intents and purposes unintelligible, in the absence of a Key, and although there are several lexicons of Alchemy ¹ such a Key is wanting. Were it otherwise, it seems certain that long since there would have been a serious examination of the literature, to see what experiments are recorded and for what in reality they stand. All difficulties notwithstanding, some attempts of the kind have been made, but among those which rank as serious it seems necessary at the moment to particularise only those of Berthelot, the distinguished French chemist, on the group of Byzantine texts and on Arabian and Syriac Alchemy. We shall meet with occasional critical opinions in the course of the present inquiry and shall learn what is needful concerning the elucidations offered by various students of the literature and its problems.

It should be understood that on my part I am offering no contribution to the early history of chemistry, nor a canon of criticism in respect of physical experiments couched in evasive terms. My concern in alchemical literature has its point of departure from a very different ground, and the textual examination proposed in the present work is based upon considerations which are of no physical kind. I am well aware that this statement will appear very strange to those who are unversed, and that to investigate the books of alleged processes for transmuting metals from a non-physical point of view must seem a distracted undertaking. Let as much be granted out of hand on the simple surface of things; but in respect of my personal sanity be it understood further that I am engaged in the criticism of certain views on the literature which do not happen to be of my own invention. For the rest I have intimated that it is written in symbolical language, and it may be thought colourable that the pretence of expounding alleged methods for transmuting putative metals may after all be part of the veils and the figurative sense of terms.¹ If it has so been regarded for a considerable period of time by persons who count as serious, it is not an insensate inquiry, and may prove to be in a different category from the “mysteries of platonic love in the middle ages”, from the consideration of Dante as “arch heretic and revolutionary”, or from the supposed concealed authorship of the Shakespeare plays—subjects which in themselves are not of necessity distracted but tend so to become in the hands of those who treat them.

There has grown up in mystical circles, more especially of recent years, and there has been reflected thence among persons outside the circles, even in the secular press,² a feeling that Alchemy was in reality a spiritual experiment, connoting spiritual attainments, “veiled in allegory and illustrated by symbols,” and neither a dark groping in mere physics nor a successful attempt to transmute metals, literally understood. Those who have met with alchemical texts seem to find such a notion confirmed by the deep religious fervour displayed in many and the suggestion there and here of Spiritual Mysteries which are analogous to the Hermetic Work: some of the latter have been accepted as seemingly accidental but really purposed hints about the nature of the hidden subject.

So much and very shortly of present impressions and dreams which do not arise from knowledge, or in most cases even from passing acquaintance. Behind them, however, are certain facts in the records, and behind these are others of an earlier period, from both of which something has filtered through and accounts for the persistent and indeed recurring rumours. Between 1850 and 1858 there were published three obscure works—in England and America—by two authors who knew nothing of one another but who wrote for the purpose of shewing that Alchemy, represented by its literature, all claims and material objects on the surface notwithstanding, was an experimental art or science practised in the soul and mind, instead of a work on metals; that only in a figurative and emblematic sense was lead transmuted into gold; and that the alleged elixir of life was not contained in vials or made in stills.¹ Two centuries and more behind these modern explanations there were men in Germany and England who spoke of Philosophical Gold and used other terms of the Art, to indicate that it had no place in physics and that the true Alchemia was a practice of Divine Knowledge.

It follows that there is a problem offered to consideration, that there is a concern of the past and present therein, while it is barely possible that there is something behind it which has the suggestion of a provisional warrant. My proposition therefore is to survey alchemical literature and its history, to ascertain what evidence—if indeed any—it may offer thereupon, but perhaps especially whether we can trace from the beginning the presence of any spiritual intent in the literature at large. It should be understood that so formulated the design is to proceed on the evidence offered by the records, for the reason that there is none other, unless it be those occasional lights afforded, so commonly in all subjects, by the lives of their authors, to the extent that they may prove available. It is obvious that the views of those who preceded me in the attempt to fix a spiritual and mystical significance on that which the alchemists themselves were accustomed to term the Work of Philosophy, are of my concern in the sense that to their intimations and unfoldings I owe my whole subject, since it is not to be assumed—either by myself or others—that in the absence of specific leading I should have done more than investigate the external history of Alchemy in connection with other occult studies, undertaken for definite reasons in the course of my literary life. Having registered this position on the score of sincerity, it remains to say that the inquiry which follows after the early chapters will be a first-hand survey of the subject for the purpose of answering in the only valid manner a postulated question whether there is in fact, not in hypothesis or reverie, (1) a spiritual aspect of alchemical literature at large, or alternatively (2) whether the authentic texts call to be regarded altogether from a standpoint of spiritual purpose. As preliminary hereunto it is desirable in this first chapter to say something briefly of what has been done by early antecedent expositors in dealing with this twofold question, leaving the evidence—if any—of professed alchemists to a later stage.¹

We are taken back in this manner to the first decades of the seventeenth century and to the “deep searchings” of Jacob Böhme, the Teutonic Theosopher, on all things relative to God, man and the universe, but especially the great subject of all his writings, which is Man in the Christ-State. It is to be observed on his own authority that he was not an alchemist, as this class of researcher was understood at the period: he was an expositor who stood apart and, on the faith of other knowledge—received by what must be called revelation—was in a position—ex hypothesi sua—to unfold the true nature of the Great Work and the qualifications essential to its performance. His position is defined when he says: “I have it not in the praxis” ¹ and again, speaking of the Stone: “I cannot yet make it myself, albeit I know something.” ² He is the first who affirms that the gift of Alchemy is the gift of supernatural life and that the Stone is Christ—that is to say, Christ the Spirit. “This is the noble precious Stone—Lapis Philosophorum—the Philosopher’s Stone, which the Magi do find, which tinctureth Nature and generateth a new Son in the old.” It is at once manifest and hidden: it is hidden in this world and yet may be had everywhere. “And this Stone is Christ, the Son of the Living God, Which discovereth Itself in all those that seek and find it.” The apostles “went about with this Stone, in power and doing miracles”, but it has been persecuted always by the schools of the worldly wise. It is offered by God and bestowed on man; it is to be had by those who desire it; and the power of the whole Deity lies therein.¹

Whether it can be accommodated or not to the subject-matter of alchemical symbolism and its literature, we cannot affirm that there is anything remote or unlikely in an attempt to understand the Stone of Philosophy in the sense of that Stone which is Christ: on the contrary, it is the institution of an analogy which is a little of the obvious order, since it is written at large in Scripture. That Blessed Stone which is the desire of the eyes in Alchemy could do no otherwise than recall the “Living Stone”,² the head in chief of the corner, elect and precious,³ the Spiritual Rock.⁴ And because according to the alchemists the matter of their Stone is common and mean of price, while the Stone itself is Lapis exillis and as Böhme plainly describes it, “a very dark disesteemed Stone, of a grey colour,” ¹ it is inevitable that it should be compared in the mind—whether versed or not in the labyrinth of the Hermetic subject—with that Stone rejected of the builders,² which is a Stone of stumbling and a Rock of offence.³ But as Christ is also the Stone of Salvation,⁴ so is the Philosophical Stone that in which “lieth the highest tincture”.⁵ If there is anything valid in analogies it will be seen, I think, that no other can be more exact and catholic after its own kind. But I am concerned at the present stage only with the fact of the comparison so formulated and not with its inherent value.

Having obtained in this manner what may be termed a clear issue, an unthinkable proposition remains. If the Stone of Alchemy is Christ, it is to be understood spiritually; ⁶and if Alchemy itself is a doctrine and practice, as I have intimated, of supernatural life according to Jacob Bohme, we should suppose it to be at the poles asunder from any material workings. On the contrary, those who understand the symbolism in this high sense and have attained the spiritual estate which is connoted by supernatural life are those only who are qualified to perform the work of physical transmutation; ¹ and I see no warrant for assuming that the Teutonic Theosophist is here testifying otherwise than at the literal and face value of his words. The thesis is that by Divine knowledge and understanding “all the metals of the earth may be brought to the highest degree of perfection, yet only by the Children of the Divine Magia who have the revelation—or experimental science—of the same”.² It is said also that “the Holy Ghost is the Key to it”;³ and he that understands rightly the Centre of Nature “may well find it in metals”,⁴ So also in respect of the Tincture, neither doctor nor alchemist has the true ground thereof “unless he be born again in the spirit”.⁵ On this understanding, according to Böhme, “the work is easy and the Art is simple: a boy of ten years might make it,” though “the wisdom is great therein” and it is “the greatest mystery”. It is said further that “every one must seek it himself”.⁶

We have heard of “astrology theologised”, otherwise an art in ruling the stars by a law of grace, and this is within comprehension, on the hypothesis, since it is the government of influence according to one kind by another and higher influence; but the annals of sanctity and of the attainments reached therein may be searched through East and West before and after the Teutonic Theosopher, and in no other quarter shall we find it on record or claimed that the second birth of the mystic gives the power to elevate so-called base metals into the “perfect form” of gold. I conceive therefore that the notion originated at his time in Germany, in the main with him, and although it is put forward in dogmatic terms as part of his revelations, that it belonged to the region of reverie. In this connection he reaffirms indeed expressly: “I cannot yet make it myself,” nor does he suggest that there is any authority behind him derived from those who could.¹ It may be thought that I am dwelling over seriously on an ultra-fantastic dream; but in the first place it belongs to the exegesis of that subject into the validity of which we are inquiring, while in the second we shall meet with it again among modern expositors. At the moment it will be sufficient to add that in the midst of his own experiences and at his day in the world it was not possible for the mind which was Böhme to challenge, in the face of its literature, the claims on material transmutation. I have shewn elsewhere and recently ² that Alchemy was followed in Germany at that period with perfervid zeal; the testimonies to the fact of transmutation were everywhere—real or alleged; he explained therefore to himself and from himself to others his view of the conditions on which the things that were affirmed to be actual lay within the possibility of attainment.

The second witness on Alchemy, understood spiritually, was contemporary in England with Jacob Böhme in the Teutonic Fatherland. This was Robert Fludd, to whom I have devoted a cons...