THE COLLECTED WORKS OF C. G. JUNG 2. Kısmı

The “Revelation of the Hidden”

From the author’s “Figuraruan aegyptiorum secretarum,” p. 27

The Worldly and the Spiritual Power

From the author’s “Figurarum aegyptiorum secretarum,” p. 31

The Royal Pair

From the author’s “Figurarum aegyptiorum secretarum,” p. 33

The Eye-Motif in a Modern Painting

The Eye-Motif in a Modern Painting

Author’s collection

The Nigrcdo

From the Theatrum chemicum, Vol. IV (1613), p. 570

434. The king’s decline, as we saw, was due to imperfection or sickness. In the Cantilena his sickness was sterility. The figure of the sterile king may perhaps come from the “Arisleus Vision,”275 where the King of the Sea rules over an unfruitful country, although he himself is not sterile. Usually the king is connected in some way with the world of darkness. Thus, in the “Introitus,” he is at first the “secret, infernal fire,”276 but as the reborn puellus regius (kingly boy) he is an allegory of Christ. In Michael Maier the king is dead and yet imprisoned alive in the depths of the sea, whence he calls for help.277 The following story of the king is from Trismosin’s Splendor solis:

The old Philosophers declared they saw a Fog rise, and pass over the

whole face of the earth, they also saw the impetuosity of the Sea, and the streams over the face of the earth, and how these same became foul and stinking in the darkness. They further saw the king of the Earth sink, and heard him cry out with eager voice,278 “Whoever saves me shall live and reign with me for ever in my brightness on my royal throne,” and Night enveloped all things. The day after, they saw over the King an apparent Morning Star, and the light of Day clear up the darkness, and bright Sunlight pierce through the clouds, with manifold coloured rays of brilliant brightness, and a sweet perfume from the earth, and the Sun shining clear. Herewith was completed the Time when the King of the Earth was released and renewed, well apparelled, and quite handsome, surprising with his beauty the Sun and Moon. He was crowned with three costly crowns, the one of Iron, the other of Silver, and the third of pure Gold. They saw in his right hand a Sceptre with Seven Stars, all of which gave a golden Splendour [etc., etc.].279

435. The seven stars are a reference to Rev. 1 : 16: “And he had in his right hand seven stars.” He who held them was “like unto the Son of man,” in agreement with the puellus regius in the “Introitus.” The king sinking in the sea is the arcane substance, which Maier calls the “antimony of the philosophers.” 280 The arcane substance corresponds to the Christian dominant, which was originally alive and present in consciousness but then sank into the unconscious and must now be restored in renewed form. Antimony is associated with blackness: antimony trisulphide is a widely used Oriental hair-dye (kohl). On the other hand antimony pentasulphide, “gold-sulphur” (Sulphur auratum antimonii) is orange-red.
436. The sunken king of alchemy went on living as the “metal king,” the “regulus” of metallurgy. This is the name for the lumps of metal formed beneath the slag in melting and reducing ores. The term Sulphur auratum antimonii, like gold-sulphur, indicates the strong predominance of sulphur in combination with antimony. Sulphur, as we have seen, is the active substance of Sol and is foul-smelling: sulphur dioxide and sulphuretted hydrogen give one a good idea of the stink of hell. Sulphur is an attribute of Sol as Leo is of Rex. Leo, too, is ambiguous: on the one hand he is an allegory of the devil and on the other is connected with Venus. The antimony compounds known to the alchemists (Sb2S5, Sb2S3) therefore contained a substance which clearly exemplified the nature of Rex and

Leo, hence they spoke of the “triumph of antimony.”281

437. As I have shown in Psychology and Alchemy,282 the sunken king forms a parallel to Parable VII of Aurora Consurgens:282a Be turned to me with all your heart and do not cast me aside because I am black and swarthy, because the sun hath changed my colour and the waters have covered my face and the land hath been polluted and defiled in my works; for there was darkness over it, because I stick fast in the mire of the deep and my substance is not disclosed. Wherefore out of the depths have I cried, and from the abyss of the earth with my voice to all you that pass by the way. Attend and see me, if any shall find one like unto me, I will give into his hand the morning star.
438. The “mire of the deep” refers to Psalm 68 : 3 (Vulgate) : “Infixus sum in limo profundi et non est substantia” (AV 69 : 2: “I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing”). David’s words are interpreted by Epiphanius

283 as follows: there is a material which consists of “miry reflections” and “muddy thoughts of sin.” But of Psalm 130 : 1: “Out of the depths have I cried to thee, O Lord,” he gives the following interpretation: “After the saints are so graced that the Holy Ghost dwells within them, he gives them, after having made his habitation in the saints, the gift to look into the deep things of God, that they may praise him from the depths, as also David declares: ‘Out of the depths,’ he says, ‘have I cried to thee, O Lord.’ “284

439. These contradictory interpretations of the “depths” (profunda) come much closer together in alchemy, often so close that they seem to be nothing more than two different aspects of the same thing. It is natural that in alchemy the depths should mean now one and now the other, to the despair of all lovers of consistency. But the eternal images are far from consistent in meaning. It is characteristic of the alchemists that they never lost sight of this polarity, thereby compensating the world of dogma, which, in order to avoid ambiguity, emphasizes the one pole to the exclusion of the other. The tendency to separate the opposites as much as possible and to strive for singleness of meaning is absolutely necessary for clarity of consciousness, since discrimination is of its essence. But when the separation is carried so far that the complementary opposite is lost sight of, and the blackness of the whiteness, the evil of the good, the depth of the heights, and so on, is no longer seen, the result is one-sidedness, which is then compensated from the unconscious without our help. The

counterbalancing is even done against our will, which in consequence must become more and more fanatical until it brings about a catastrophic enantiodromia. Wisdom never forgets that all things have two sides, and it would also know how to avoid such calamities if ever it had any power. But power is never found in the seat of wisdom; it is always the focus of mass interests and is therefore inevitably associated with the illimitable folly of the mass man.

440. With increasing one-sidedness the power of the king decays, for originally it had consisted just in his ability to unite the polarity of all existence in a symbol. The more distinctly an idea emerges and the more consciousness gains in clarity, the more monarchic becomes its content, to which everything contradictory has to submit. This extreme state has to be reached, despite the fact that the climax always presages the end. Man’s own nature, the unconscious, immediately tries to compensate, and this is distasteful to the extreme state, which always considers itself ideal and is moreover in a position to prove its excellence with the most cogent arguments. We cannot but admit that it is ideal, but for all that it is imperfect because it expresses only one half of life. Life wants not only the clear but also the muddy, not only the bright but also the dark; it wants all days to be followed by nights, and wisdom herself to celebrate her carnival, of which indeed there are not a few traces in alchemy. For these reasons, too, the king constantly needs the renewal that begins with a descent into his own darkness, an immersion in his own depths, and with a reminder that he is related by blood to his adversary.
441. According to the Ancoratus of Epiphanius, the phoenix emerges from his ashes first in the form of a worm:

When the bird is dead, indeed utterly consumed, and the flames are extinguished, there are left only the crude remnants of the flesh. From this there comes forth in one day an unseemly worm, which puts on wings and becomes as new; but on the third day it matures, and after growing to full stature with the aid of the medicines found in that place, it shows itself, and hastens upward once more to its own country, and there rests.285

So, too, the king rises from his “infernal fire” as a crowned dragon.286 He is the Mercurial serpent, which is especially connected with evil- smelling places (“it is found on the dunghills”).287  The fact that the

passage in the Ancoratus stresses the “one day” may perhaps throw some light on the apparently unique reference in Khunrath’s Amphitheatrum to the “filius unius (SVI) diei”288 as a designation for the “Hermaphrodite of nature,” i.e., the arcane substance. He is there synonymous with “Saturn,289 the ambisexual Philosophic Man of the philosophers, the lead of the sages, the Philosophic World-Egg . . . the greatest wonder of the world, the Lion, green and red . . . A lily among thorns.”290

442. As we have seen, the filius regius is identical with Mercurius and at this particular stage also with the Mercurial serpent. This stage is indicated in Khunrath by Saturn, the dark, cold maleficus; by the world-egg, obviously signifying the initial state, and finally by the green and red lion, representing the animal soul of the king. All this is expressed by the dragon or serpent as the summa summarum. The dragon as the lowest and most inchoate form of the king is, we are constantly told, at first a deadly poison but later the alexipharmic itself.
443. In the myth of the phoenix as reported by Pliny we again meet the worm: “… from its bones and marrow is born first a sort of maggot, and this grows into a chicken.”291 This version is repeated in Clement of Rome,292 Artemidorus,293 Cyril of Jerusalem,294 St. Ambrose,295 and Cardan.296 In order to understand the phoenix myth it is important to know that in Christian hermeneutics the phoenix is made an allegory of Christ, which amounts to a reinterpretation of the myth.297 The self-burning of the phoenix corresponds to Christ’s self-sacrifice, the ashes to his buried body, and the miraculous renewal to his resurrection.298 According to Horapollo (4th cent.), whose views were taken over by later writers,299 the phoenix signifies the soul and its journey to the land of rebirth.300 It stands for the “long-lasting restitution of things” (); indeed, it is renewal itself.301 The idea of apocatastasis or restitution (Acts 3 : 21) and re-establishment in Christ (Ephesians 1 : 10, DV)302 may well have helped the assimilation of the phoenix allegory, quite apart from the main motif of renewal.
444. Khunrath’s insertion of the word “SVI,” in capital letters, after “unius” plainly indicates that he was referring to something divine. This can only be some analogy of God or Christ. Nowhere else in the alchemical texts is this “one” day mentioned, except for an occasional

remark that by the special grace of God the opus could be completed in one day. Khunrath’s “SVI” seems to refer rather to God, in the sense that the filius regius is born on “His” day, the day that belongs to God or is chosen by him. Since the phoenix is mainly an allegory of resurrection, this one day of birth and renewal must be one of the three days of Christ’s burial and descent into hell. But there is nothing about this one day in Christian dogma, unless Khunrath, who had a speculative mind, was anticipating the arguments of certain Protestant dogmaticians who, following Luke 23 : 43,303 propounded the theory that after his death Christ did not immediately descend into hell (as in Catholic dogma), but remained in paradise until Easter morning. And just as there was an earthquake at the moment when Christ’s soul separated from his body in death, so there was another earthquake on Easter morning (Matthew 28 : 2). During this earthquake Christ’s soul was reunited with his body,304 and only then did he descend into hell to “preach to the spirits in prison” (I Peter 3 : 19). Meanwhile the angel at the tomb appeared in his place and spoke to the women. The descent into hell is supposed to be limited to this short space of time.305

445. On this view the “one day” would be Easter Day. In alchemy the uniting of the soul with the body is the miracle of the coniunctio, by which the lapis becomes a living body. The phoenix signifies precisely this moment.306 The alchemical transformation was often compared to the rising of the sun. But apart from the fact that there is not the slightest ground for supposing that such speculations ever entered Khunrath’s head, the Easter morning hypothesis does not seem very satisfactory. The special element of the worm is missing, which Epiphanius stresses in connection with the one day. It seems as though this element should not be overlooked in explaining the filius unius diei. The one day probably refers to Genesis 1:5: “And there was evening and there was morning, one day” (RSV).307 This was after the separation of light from darkness (or the creation of light), and here it should be remembered that darkness precedes the light and is its mother.308 The son of this one day is the Light, the Logos (John 1:5), who is the Johannine Christ.309 So interpreted, the son of one day immediately becomes related to the “Hermaphrodite of nature,” 310 the Philosophic Man, and to Saturn, the tempter and oppressor,311 who, as Ialdabaoth and the highest archon, is correlated with the lion. All these figures are synonyms for Mercurius.
446. There is a didactic poem, Sopra la composizione della pietra dei Philosophic by Fra Marcantonio Crasselame, which was published in a work significantly entitled La Lumière sortant par soi-mesme des Ténèbres.312 As the title shows, this is not the light that was created by the Logos, but a spontaneous, self-begotten light. The poem begins with the creation of the world and declares that the Word created chaos:

At the Omnipotent’s first word, shadowy Chaos, formless mass, came from the void.

But who knows how all things were made? Only the “sons of the Art”:

O emulous Sons of Divine Hermes, to whom the paternal Art makes Nature visible without any veil, you, you alone, know how the eternal Hand fashioned earth and Heaven out of shapeless Chaos. Your own great Work clearly shows you that God made Everything in the same manner as the Physical Elixir is produced.

447. The opus alchymicum recapitulates the secret of creation which began with the incubation of the waters. Mercurius, a living and universal spirit, descends into the earth and mingles with the impure sulphurs, thus becoming fixed:

If I be clearly understood, your unknown Mercury is nothing other than a living innate universal Spirit which, ever agitated in aerial vapour, descends from the Sun to fill the empty Centre of the Earth; whence it later issues forth from the impure Sulphurs and, from volatile, becomes fixed and, having taken form, imparts its form to the radical moisture.

448. But through his descent Mercurius is made captive and can be freed only by the art:

But where is this golden Mercury, this radical moisture, which, dissolved in sulphur and salt, becomes the animated seed of the metals? Ah, he is incarcerated and held so fast that even Nature cannot release him from the harsh prison, unless the Master Art open the way.

449. It is a spirit of light that descends from the sun,313 a living spirit that lives in all creatures as the spirit of wisdom,314 and teaches man the art whereby the “soul enchained in the elements” may be freed. From Mercurius comes the illumination of the adept, and it is through his work

that Mercurius is freed from his chains. This Mercurius duplex, who ascends and descends, is the uroboros, by definition an “increatum.” 315 It is the snake that begets itself from itself.316 Although the poem takes Mercurius chiefly as a spirit of light, the uroboros is a  (subterranean Hermes). Mercurius is a compound of opposites, and the alchemists were primarily concerned with his dark side, the serpent.

450. It is an age-old mythological idea that the hero, when the light of life is extinguished, goes on living as a snake and is worshipped as a snake.317 Another widespread primitive idea is the snake-form of the spirits of the dead. This may well have given rise to the worm version of the phoenix myth.
451. In Amente, the Egyptian underworld, dwells the great seven-headed snake,318 and in the Christian underworld is the most celebrated snake of all, the devil, “that old serpent.” 319 Actually it is a pair of brothers that inhabit hell, namely death and the devil, the devil being characterized by the snake and death by worms. In old German the concepts of worm, snake, and dragon coalesce, as they do in Latin (vermis, serpens, draco). The underworld signifies hell320 and the grave.321 The worm or serpent is all- devouring death. The dragon-slayer is therefore always a conqueror of death. In Germanic mythology, too, hell is associated with worms. The Edda says:

A hall did I see Far from the sun,

On the shore of death, The door to the north. Dripping poison Drops from the roof; The chamber walls

Are bodies of worms.322

Hell in Old English is called the “worm’s hall” (wyrmsele) and in Middle High German it is the “worm-garden.” 323

452. Like the heroes and spirits of the dead, the gods too (particularly the earth-gods), are associated with the snake, as are Hermes and Asklepios.324 Indeed, the Greek god of healing, on being hatched from the egg, seems to have taken the form of a snake.325 An inscription on the temple of Hathor at Dendereh reads:326

The sun, who has existed from the beginning, rises up like a falcon

out of the midst of his lotus-bud. When the doors of his petals open in sapphire-coloured splendour, he has sundered the night from the day. Thou risest up like the sacred snake as a living spirit, creating the beginnings and shining in thy glorious form in the barge of the sunrise. The divine Lord whose image dwells in secret in the temple at Dendereh is made the creator of the world by his work. Coming as one, he multiplies himself a millionfold when the light goes forth from him in the form of a child.327

The comparison of the god to a snake reminds us of his chthonic form in the underworld, just as the rejuvenated phoenix (falcon) first takes the form of a worm.328 As Christianity borrowed a good deal from the Egyptian religion it is not surprising that the allegory of the snake found its way into the world of Christian ideas (John 3 : 14) and was readily seized on by the alchemists.329 The dragon is an allegory of Christ as well as of the Antichrist.330 A remarkable parallel occurs in the anonymous treatise, “De promissionibus” (5th cent.).331 It concerns a version of the legend of St. Sylvester, according to which this saint imprisoned a dragon in the Tarpeian Rock and so rendered him harmless. The other version of this story is related by a “certain monk” who discovered that the alleged dragon, to whom offerings of virgins were made, was nothing but a mechanical device. St. Sylvester locked the dragon up with a chain, as in Rev. 20 : 1; but in the parallel story the artificial dragon “brandished a sword in its mouth,” like the Son of Man in Rev. 1 : 16.332

1. THE KING AS ANTHROPOS

453. I have drawn attention earlier333 to the passage in Hippolytus where the Gnostic interpretation of Psalm 24 : 7–10 is discussed. The rhetorical question of the psalm, “Who is this king of glory?” is answered in Hippolytus thus: “A worm and no man, the reproach of men and the outcast of the people.334 He is the king of glory, mighty in battle.” This passage, says Hippolytus, refers to Adam and his “ascension and rebirth, that he may be born spiritual, not fleshly.”335 The worm therefore signifies the second Adam, Christ. Epiphanius also mentions the worm as an allegory of Christ,336 though without substantiating it further.
454. This train of thought is consciously or unconsciously continued in

alchemy. The “Aquarium sapientum” says:337

And firstly it is here to be noted, that the Sages have called this decomposed product, on account of its blackness (Cant. 1), the raven’s head. In the same way Christ (Isa. 53) had no form nor comeliness, was the vilest of all men, full of griefs and sicknesses, and so despised that men even hid their faces from him, and he was esteemed as nothing. Yea, in the 22nd Psalm [Vulgate] he complains of this, that he is a worm and no man, the laughing-stock and contempt of the people; indeed, it is not unfitly compared with Christ when the putrefied body of the Sun lies dead, inactive, like ashes, in the bottom of the phial, until, as a result of greater heat, its soul by degrees and little by little descends to it again, and once more infuses, moistens, and saturates the decaying and all but dead body, and preserves it from total destruction. So also did it happen to Christ himself, when at the Mount of Olives, and on the cross, he was roasted338 by the fire of the divine wrath339 (Matt. 26, 27), and complained that he was utterly deserted by his heavenly Father, yet none the less was always (as is wont to happen also to an earthly body through assiduous care and nourishing) comforted and strengthened (Matt. 4, Luke 22) and, so to speak, imbued, nourished, and supported with divine nectar; yea, when at last, in his most sacred passion, and at the hour of death, his strength and his very spirit were completely withdrawn from him, and he went down to the lowest and deepest parts below the earth (Acts 1, Eph. 1, I Peter 3), yet even there he was preserved, refreshed, and by the power of the eternal Godhead raised up again, quickened, and glorified (Rom. 14), when finally his spirit, with its body dead in the sepulchre, obtained a perfect and indissoluble union, through his most joyful resurrection and victorious ascension into heaven, as Lord and Christ (Matt. 28) and was exalted (Mark 16) to the right hand of his Father; with whom through the power and virtue of the Holy Spirit as true God and man he reigns and rules over all things in equal power and glory (Ps. 8), and by his most powerful word preserveth and upholdeth all things (Hebr. 1) and maketh all things one (Acts 17). And this wondrous Union and divine Exaltation angels and men, in heaven and on earth and under the earth (Philipp. 2, 1 Peter 1) can scarce comprehend, far less meditate upon, without fear and terror; and his virtue, power, and roseate Tincture340 is able even now to change, and tint, and yet more, perfectly to cure and heal us sinful men in body and

soul: of which things we shall have more to say below . . . Thus, then, we have briefly and simply considered the unique heavenly foundation and corner-stone Jesus Christ, that is to say, how he is compared and united with the earthly philosophical stone of the Sages, whose material and preparation, as we have heard, is an outstanding type and lifelike image of the incarnation of Christ.

455. The various fatalities which the old king has to suffer—immersion in the bath or in the sea, dissolution and decomposition, extinction of his light in the darkness, incineration in the fire, and renewal out of the chaos—are derived by the alchemists from the dissolution of the “matter” in acids, from the roasting of ores, the expulsion of sulphur or mercury, the reduction of metallic oxides, and so forth, as if these chemical procedures yielded a picture which, with a little straining of the imagination, could be compared with Christ’s sufferings and his final triumph. The fact that they projected the Passion as an unconscious premise into the chemical transformations was not at all clear to the alchemists.341 Naturally, under these circumstances, they were able to prove with complete success that their alleged observations coincided with the Passion. Only, it was not a question of their making observations on matter, but of introspection. Since, however, genuine projections are never voluntarily made but always appear as preconscious factors, there must have been something in the unconscious of the alchemists which lent itself to projection (i.e., had a tendency to become conscious because of its energy charge), and on the other hand found in the alchemical operations a “hook” that attracted it, so that it could express itself in some way. Projection is always an indirect process of becoming conscious—indirect because of the check exercised by the conscious mind, by the pressure of traditional or conventional ideas which take the place of real experience and prevent it from happening. One feels that one possesses a valid truth concerning the unknown, and this makes any real knowledge of it impossible. The unconscious factor must necessarily have been something that was incompatible with the conscious attitude. What it was in reality we learn from the statements of the alchemists: a myth that had much in common not only with many mythologems of pagan origin but above all with Christian dogma. If it were identical with the dogma and appeared in projection it would show that the alchemists had a thoroughly anti-Christian attitude (which was not the case). Lacking such an attitude a projection of this kind would be

psychologically impossible. But if the unconscious complex represented a figure that deviated from the dogma in certain essential features, then its projection becomes possible, for it would then be in opposition to the dogma approved by consciousness and would have arisen by way of compensation.

456. In this and my other writings I have constantly stressed the peculiar nature of the alchemists’ statements and need not recapitulate what I have said. I should only like to point out that the central idea of the filius philosophorum is based on a conception of the Anthropos in which the “Man” or the “Son of Man” does not coincide with the Christian, historical redeemer figure. The alchemical Anthropos comes closer to the Basilidian conception of him as reported by Hippolytus: “For he [the Redeemer] . . . is in their view the inner spiritual man in the psychic . . . which is the Sonship that left the soul here not to die but to remain according to its nature, just as the first Sonship left behind on high the Holy Ghost, who is conterminous with him, in the appropriate place, clothing himself in his own soul.” 342
457. The inner spiritual man bears a resemblance to Christ—that is the unconscious premise for the statements about the filius regius.343 This idea contradicts the dogmatic view and therefore has every reason to be repressed and projected. At the same time it is the logical consequence of a spiritual situation in which the historical figure had long since disappeared from consciousness, while his spiritual presence was stressed all the more strongly in the form of the inner Christ or God who is born in the soul of man. The outward fact of the dogmatic Christ was answered from within by that inner primordial image which had produced a Purusha or a Gayomart long before the Christian era and made the assimilation of the Christian revelation possible. The ultimate fate of every dogma is that it gradually becomes soulless. Life wants to create new forms, and therefore, when a dogma loses its vitality, it must perforce activate the archetype that has always helped man to express the mystery of the soul. Note that I do not go so far as to say that the archetype actually produces the divine figure. If the psychologist were to assert that, he would have to possess a sure knowledge of the motives that underlie all historical development and be in a position to demonstrate this knowledge. But there is no question of that. I maintain only that the psychic archetype makes it possible for the

divine figure to take form and become accessible to understanding. But the supremely important motive power which is needed for this, and which sets the archetypal possibilities in motion at a given historical moment, cannot be explained in terms of the archetype itself. Only experience can establish which archetype has become operative, but one can never predict that it must enter into manifestation. Who, for instance, could logically have foretold that the Jewish prophet Jesus would give the decisive answer to the spiritual situation in the age of Hellenistic syncretism, or that the slumbering image of the Anthropos would waken to world dominion?

458. The limitations of human knowledge which leave so many incomprehensible and wonderful things unexplained do not, however, exempt us from the task of trying to understand the revelations of the spirit that are embodied in dogma, otherwise there is a danger that the treasures of supreme knowledge which lie hidden in it will evaporate into nothing and become a bloodless phantom, an easy prey for all shallow rationalists. It would be a great step forward, in my opinion, if at least it were recognized how far the truth of dogma is rooted in the human psyche, which is not the work of human hands.
459. The inner spiritual man of the Gnostics is the Anthropos, the man created in the image of the Nous, the  (true man).344 He corresponds to the chên-yên (true man) of Chinese alchemy. The chên-yên is the product of the opus. On the one hand he is the adept who is transformed by the work,345 on the other he is the homunculus or filius of Western alchemy, who also derives from the true man.346 The treatise of Wei Po-yang says:

The ear, the eye, and the mouth constitute the three precious things. They should be closed, to stop communication. The True Man living in a deep abyss, floats about the centre of the round vessel . . . The mind is relegated to the realm of Nonexistence so as to acquire an enduring state of thoughtlessness. When the mind is integral, it will not go astray. In its sleep, it will be in God’s embrace, but during its waking hours it is anxious about the continuation or termination of its existence.347

This true man is Dorn’s “vir unus” and at the same time the lapis Philosophorum.348

460. The “true man” expresses the Anthropos in the individual human

being. Compared with the revelation of the Son of Man in Christ this seems like a retrograde step, for the historical uniqueness of the Incarnation was the great advance which gathered the scattered sheep about one shepherd. The “Man” in the individual would mean, it is feared, a scattering of the flock. This would indeed be a retrograde step, but it cannot be blamed on the “true man”; its cause is rather all those bad human qualities which have always threatened and hindered the work of civilization. (Often, indeed, the sheep and the shepherd are just about equally inept.) The “true man” has nothing to do with this. Above all he will destroy no valuable cultural form since he himself is the highest form of culture. Neither in the East nor in the West does he play the game of shepherd and sheep, because he has enough to do to be a shepherd to himself.

461. If the adept experiences his own self, the “true man,” in his work, then, as the passage from the “Aquarium sapientum” shows, he encounters the analogy of the true man—Christ—in new and direct form, and he recognizes in the transformation in which he himself is involved a similarity to the Passion. It is not an “imitation of Christ” but its exact opposite: an assimilation of the Christ-image to his own self, which is the “true man.”349 It is no longer an effort, an intentional straining after imitation, but rather an involuntary experience of the reality represented by the sacred legend. This reality comes upon him in his work, just as the stigmata come to the saints without being consciously sought. They appear spontaneously. The Passion happens to the adept, not in its classic form— otherwise he would be consciously performing spiritual exercises—but in the form expressed by the alchemical myth. It is the arcane substance that suffers those physical and moral tortures; it is the king who dies or is killed, is dead and buried and on the third day rises again. And it is not the adept who suffers all this, rather it suffers in him, it is tortured, it passes through death and rises again. All this happens not to the alchemist himself but to the “true man,” who he feels is near him and in him and at the same time in the retort. The passion that vibrates in our text and in the Aurora is genuine, but would be totally incomprehensible if the lapis were nothing but a chemical substance. Nor does it originate in contemplation of Christ’s Passion; it is the real experience of a man who has got involved in the compensatory contents of the unconscious by investigating the unknown, seriously and to the point of self-sacrifice. He could not but see

the likeness of his projected contents to the dogmatic images, and he might have been tempted to assume that his ideas were nothing else than the familiar religious conceptions, which he was using in order to explain the chemical procedure. But the texts show clearly that, on the contrary, a real experience of the opus had an increasing tendency to assimilate the dogma or to amplify itself with it. That is why the text says that Christ was “compared and united” with the stone. The alchemical Anthropos showed itself to be independent of any dogma.350

462. The alchemist experienced the Anthropos in a form that was imbued with new vitality, freshness and immediacy, and this is reflected in the enthusiastic tone of the texts. It is therefore understandable that every single detail of the primordial drama would be realized in quite a new sense. The nigredo not only brought decay, suffering, death, and the torments of hell visibly before the eyes of the alchemist, it also cast the shadow of its melancholy over his own solitary soul.351 In the blackness of a despair which was not his own, and of which he was merely the witness, he experienced how it turned into the worm and the poisonous dragon.352 From inner necessity the dragon destroyed itself (natura naturam vincit) and changed into the lion,353 and the adept, drawn involuntarily into the drama, then felt the need to cut off its paws354 (unless there were two lions who devoured one another). The dragon ate its own wings as the eagle did its feathers.355 These grotesque images reflect the conflict of opposites into which the researcher’s curiosity had led him. His work began with a katabasis, a journey to the underworld as Dante also experienced it,356 with the difference that the adept’s soul was not only impressed by it but radically altered. Faust I is an example of this: the transformation of an earnest scholar, through his pact with the devil, into a worldly cavalier and crooked careerist. In the case of the fanciful Christian Rosencreutz the descent to Venus led only to his being slightly wounded in the hand by Cupid’s arrow. The texts, however, hint at more serious dangers. Olympiodorus says:357 “Without great pains this work is not perfected; there will be struggles, violence, and war. And all the while the demon Ophiuchos358 instils negligence (), impeding our intentions; everywhere he creeps about, both within and without, causing oversights, anxiety, and unexpected accidents, or else keeping us from the work by harassments () and injuries.” The philosopher Petasios (Petesis), quoted by Olympiodorus, expresses himself even more strongly: “So

bedevilled () and shameless () is the lead359 that all who wish to investigate it fall into madness through ignorance.” That this is not just empty talk is shown by other texts, which often emphasize how much the psyche of the laborant was involved in the work. Thus Dorn, commenting on the quotation from Hermes, “All obscurity shall yield before thee,” says:

For he saith, All obscurity shall yield before thee; he saith not, before the metals. By obscurity is to be understood naught else but the darkness of diseases and sickness of body and mind . . . The author’s intention is, in sum, to teach them that are adepts in spagyric medicine how with a very small dose, such as is suggested by a grain of mustard seed,360 however it be taken, to cure all diseases indifferently, by reason of the simplicity of union361 effective in the medicine, so that no variety of the multitude of maladies may resist it. But manifold as are the obscurities of the weaknesses of the mind, as insanity [vesania], mania, frenzy [furia], stupidity [stoliditas], and others like, by which the spirit [animus] is darkened and impaired, yet by this single spagyric medicine they are perfectly cured. And it not only restores health to the spirit [animo], but also sharpens the ingenuity and mind of men, that all things may be miraculously easy362 for them in understanding [intellectu] and perception [perceptu], and nothing be hid from them which is in the upper or lower world.363

The sentence from the “Tabula smaragdina,” “He will conquer every subtle thing,” Dorn interprets as follows: the subtle thing is Mercurius, or the “spiritual obscurities that occupy the mind”; in other words it is spirit. Hence the darkness is a demon that possesses the spirit (as in Olympiodorus) and can be cast out by the work (“it expels every subtle thing”).364 Sickness is an imprinting of evil (impressio mali) and is healed through the “repression of evil by the action of the true and universal centre upon the body.” This centre is the unarius or the One, in which the unitary man (unicus homo) is rooted. If, therefore, he is to recover from his bodily and spiritual sicknesses, “let him study to know and to understand exactly the centre, and apply himself wholly thereto, and the centre will be freed from all imperfections and diseases,365 that it may be restored to its state of original monarchy.”366

463. These passages from Dorn refer less to the dangers of the work than to

the healing through the outcome of the work. But the means of healing come from Mercurius, that spirit367 of whom the philosophers said: “Take the old black spirit, and destroy therewith the bodies until they are changed.”367a The destruction of the bodies is depicted as a battle, as in Sermo 42 of the Turba: “Excite war between the copper and the quicksilver, since they strive to perish and first become corrupt.” “Excite the battle between them and destroy the body of the copper, till it becomes powder.”368 This battle is the separatio, divisio, putrefactio, mortificatio, and solntio, which all represent the original chaotic state of conflict between the four hostile elements. Dorn describes this vicious, warlike quaternity allegorically as the four-horned serpent, which the devil, after his fall from heaven, sought to “infix” in the mind of man.369 Dorn puts the motif of war on a moral plane370 and thereby approximates it to the modern concept of psychic dissociation, which, as we know, lies at the root of the psychogenic psychoses and neuroses. In the “furnace of the cross” and in the fire, says the “Aquarium sapientum,” “man, like the earthly gold, attains to the true black Raven’s Head; that is, he is utterly disfigured and is held in derision by the world,371 and this not only for forty days and nights, or years,372 but often for the whole duration of his life; so much so that he experiences more heartache in his life than comfort and joy, and more sadness than pleasure . . . Through this spiritual death his soul is entirely freed.”373 Evidently the nigredo brought about a deformation and a psychic suffering which the author compared to the plight of the unfortunate Job. Job’s unmerited misfortune, visited on him by God, is the suffering of God’s servant and a prefiguration of Christ’s Passion. One can see from this how the figure of the Son of Man gradually lodged itself in the ordinary man who had taken the “work” upon his own shoulders.

464. In the second century of our era Wei Po-yang, quite uninfluenced by Western alchemy and unhampered by the preconceptions of our Christian psychology, gave a drastic account of the sufferings caused by a technical blunder during the opus:

Disaster will come to the black mass: gases from food consumed will make noises inside the intestines and stomach. The right essence will be exhaled and the evil one inhaled. Days and nights will be passed without sleep, moon after moon. The body will then be tired out, giving rise to an appearance of insanity. The hundred pulses will stir and boil so

violently as to drive away peace of mind and body . . . Ghostly things will make their appearance, at which he will marvel even in his sleep. He is then led to rejoice, thinking that he is assured of longevity. But all of a sudden he is seized by an untimely death.374

So we can understand why Khunrath writes:

But chiefly pray to God . . . for the good gift of discretion, the good spirit of discriminating good from evil, who may lead thee into true knowledge and understanding of the Light of Nature, into her Great Book. So wilt thou extricate thyself from the labyrinth of very very many deceitful Papers, and even books of Parchment, and arrive right well at the ground of truth.375

465. The depressions of the adept are also described in the “Tractatus aureus”:

My son, this is the hidden stone of many colours, which is born in one colour; know this and conceal it. By this, the Almighty favouring, the greatest diseases are escaped, and every sorrow,376 distress, evil, and hurtful thing is made to depart. It leads from darkness to light, from this desert wilderness to a secure habitation, and from poverty and straits into freedom.377

466. These testimonies suffice to show that the adept was not only included in his work but also knew it.

2. THE RELATION OF THE KING-SYMBOL TO CONSCIOUSNESS

467. The apotheosis of the king, the renewed rising of the sun, means, on our hypothesis, that a new dominant of consciousness has been produced and that the psychic potential is reversed. Consciousness is no longer under the dominion of the unconscious, in which state the dominant is hidden in the darkness, but has now glimpsed and recognized a supreme goal. The apotheosis of the king depicts this change, and the resultant feeling of renewal is expressed nowhere more plainly than in some of our loveliest chorals. Ripley’s Cantilena includes mother Luna, the maternal aspect of night, in this transfiguration, which reminds us of the apotheosis at the end of Faust II. It is as though the moon had risen in the night with as much splendour as the sun. And just as the Queen “flows with all

delicious unguent” so, in the Acts of Thomas,378 a sweet smell pours from the heavenly goddess. She is not only the mother but the “Kore, daughter of the light.” She is the Gnostic Sophia,379 who corresponds to the alchemical mother. If our interpretation of King Sol is correct,380 then the apotheosis must also have made mother Luna visible, that is to say made the unconscious conscious. What at first sight seems a contradiction in terms resolves itself, on closer examination, as the coming into consciousness of an essential content of the unconscious. It is primarily the feminine element in man, the anima,381 that becomes visible; secondly the moonlight, which enables us to see in the dark, and represents an illumination of the unconscious, or its permeability to light; and thirdly, the moon stands for the rotundum, about which I have written in Psychology and Alchemy.382 In the sublunary world her roundness (plenilunium, circulus lunaris)383 corresponds, as the mirror-image of the sun, to the Anthropos, the psychological self, or psychic totality.

468. The moon is the connecting-link between the concept of the Virgin Mother and that of the child, who is round, whole, and perfect. The new birth from the moon can therefore be expressed as much by the Christian’s joy at Eastertide as by the mystic dawn, the aurora consurgens; for the risen king is the “soul, which is infused into the dead stone.”384 The idea of roundness is also found in the crown, symbol of kingship. “Corona regis” is cited as synonymous with ashes, body, sea, salt, mother and Blessed Virgin,385 and is thus identified with the feminine element.
469. This peculiar relationship between rotundity and the mother is explained by the fact that the mother, the unconscious, is the place where the symbol of wholeness appears. The fact that the rotundum is, as it were, contained in the anima and is prefigured by her lends her that extraordinary fascination which characterizes the “Eternal Feminine” in the good as well as the bad sense. At a certain level, therefore, woman appears as the true carrier of the longed-for wholeness and redemption.
470. The starting-point of our explanation is that the king is essentially synonymous with the sun and that the sun represents the daylight of the psyche, consciousness, which as the faithful companion of the sun’s journey rises daily from the ocean of sleep and dream, and sinks into it again at evening. Just as in the round-dance of the planets, and in the star- strewn spaces of the sky, the sun journeys along as a solitary figure, like

any other one of the planetary archons, so consciousness, which refers everything to its own ego as the centre of the universe, is only one among the archetypes of the unconscious, comparable to the King Helios of post- classical syncretism, whom we meet in Julian the Apostate, for instance. This is what the complex of consciousness would look like if it could be viewed from one of the other planets, as we view the sun from the earth. The subjective ego-personality, i.e., consciousness and its contents, is indeed seen in its various aspects by an unconscious observer, or rather by an observer placed in the “outer space” of the unconscious. That this is so is proved by dreams, in which the conscious personality, the ego of the dreamer, is seen from a standpoint that is “toto coelo” different from that of the conscious mind. Such a phenomenon could not occur at all unless there were in the unconscious other standpoints opposing or competing with ego-consciousness. These relationships are aptly expressed by the planet simile. The king represents ego-consciousness, the subject of all subjects, as an object. His fate in mythology portrays the rising and setting of this most glorious and most divine of all the phenomena of creation, without which the world would not exist as an object. For everything that is only is because it is directly or indirectly known, and moreover this “known-ness” is sometimes represented in a way which the subject himself does not know, just as if he were being observed from another planet, now with benevolent and now with sardonic gaze.

471. This far from simple situation derives partly from the fact that the ego has the paradoxical quality of being both the subject and the object of its own knowledge, and partly from the fact that the psyche is not a unity but a “constellation” consisting of other luminaries besides the sun. The ego- complex is not the only complex in the psyche.386 The possibility that unconscious complexes possess a certain luminosity, a kind of consciousness, cannot be dismissed out of hand, for they can easily give rise to something in the nature of secondary personalities, as psychopathological experience shows. But if this is possible, then an observation of the ego-complex from another standpoint somewhere in the same psyche is equally possible. As I have said, the critical portrayal of the ego-complex in dreams and in abnormal psychic states seems to be due to this.
472. The conscious mind often knows little or nothing about its own

transformation, and does not want to know anything. The more autocratic it is and the more convinced of the eternal validity of its truths, the more it identifies with them. Thus the kingship of Sol, which is a natural phenomenon, passes to the human king who personifies the prevailing dominant idea and must therefore share its fate. In the phenomenal world the Heraclitan law of everlasting change, , prevails; and it seems that all the true things must change and that only that which changes remains true.

473. Pitilessly it is seen from another planet that the king is growing old, even before he sees it himself: ruling ideas, the “dominants,” change, and the change, undetected by consciousness, is mirrored only in dreams. King Sol, as the archetype of consciousness, voyages through the world of the unconscious, one of its multitudinous figures which may one day be capable of consciousness too. These lesser lights are, on the old view, identical with the planetary correspondences in the psyche which were postulated by astrology. When, therefore, an alchemist conjured up the spirit of Saturn as his familiar, this was an attempt to bring to consciousness a standpoint outside the ego, involving a relativization of the ego and its contents. The intervention of the planetary spirit was besought as an aid. When the king grows old and needs renewing, a kind of planetary bath is instituted—a bath into which all the planets pour their “influences.”387 This expresses the idea that the dominant, grown feeble with age, needs the support and influence of those subsidiary lights to fortify and renew it. It is, as it were, dissolved in the substance of the other planetary archetypes and then put together again. Through this process of melting and recasting there is formed a new amalgam of a more comprehensive nature, which has taken into itself the influences of the other planets or metals.388
474. In this alchemical picture we can easily recognize the projection of the transformation process: the aging of a psychic dominant is apparent from the fact that it expresses the psychic totality in ever-diminishing degree. One can also say that the psyche no longer feels wholly contained in the dominant, whereupon the dominant loses its fascination and no longer grips the psyche so completely as before. On the other hand its content and meaning are no longer properly understood, or what is understood fails to touch the heart. A “sentiment d’incomplétude” of this kind produces a

compensatory reaction which attracts other regions of the psyche and their contents, so as to fill up the gap. As a rule this is an unconscious process that always sets in when the attitude and orientation of the conscious mind have proved inadequate. I stress this point because the conscious mind is a bad judge of its own situation and often persists in the illusion that its attitude is just the right one and is only prevented from working because of some external annoyance. If the dreams were observed it would soon become clear why the conscious assumptions have become unworkable. And if, finally, neurotic symptoms appear, then the attitude of consciousness, its ruling idea, is contradicted, and in the unconscious there is a stirring up of those archetypes that were the most suppressed by the conscious attitude. The therapist then has no other course than to confront the ego with its adversary and thus initiate the melting and recasting process. The confrontation is expressed, in the alchemical myth of the king, as the collision of the masculine, spiritual father-world ruled over by King Sol with the feminine, chthonic mother-world symbolized by the aqua permanens or by the chaos.

475. The illegitimate aspect of this relationship appears as incest, veiled, in the Cantilena, by adoption—which nevertheless results in the pregnancy of the mother. As I have explained elsewhere, incest expresses the union of elements that are akin or of the same nature; that is to say the adversary of Sol is his own feminine chthonic aspect which he has forgotten. Sol’s reflected light is the feminine Luna, who dissolves the king in her moistness. It is as though Sol had to descend into the watery deep of the sublunary world in order to unite the “powers of Above and Below” (as in Faust’s journey to the Mothers). The unworkable conscious dominant disappears in menacing fashion among the contents rising up from the unconscious, thus bringing about a darkening of the light. The warring elements of primeval chaos are unleashed, as though they had never been subjugated. The battle is fought out between the dominant and the contents of the unconscious so violently that reason would like to clamp down on unreason. But these attempts fail, and go on failing until the ego acknowledges its impotence and lets the furious battle of psychic powers go its own way. If the ego does not interfere with its irritating rationality, the opposites, just because they are in conflict, will gradually draw together, and what looked like death and destruction will settle down into a latent state of concord, suitably expressed by the symbol of pregnancy.389 In

consequence the king, the previous dominant of consciousness, is transformed into a real and workable whole, whereas before he had only pretended to wholeness.

476. The Cantilena shows us what that dominant was which is subjected to transformation not only in Ripley but in many other alchemists: it was the Christian view of the world in the Middle Ages. This problem is of such dimensions that one cannot expect a medieval man to have been even remotely conscious of it. It was bound to work itself out in projection, unconsciously. For this reason, too, it can hardly be grasped even today— which is why the psychological interpretation of the One, the filius regius, meets with the greatest difficulties. From the hymnlike manner in which the alchemists praised their “son” it is quite evident that they meant by this symbol either Christ himself or something that corresponded to him. Naturally they were not concerned with the historical personality of Jesus, which at that time was completely covered up by the dogmatic figure of the second Person of the Trinity. The latter symbol had slowly crystallized out in the course of the centuries, though it was clearly prefigured in the Logos of St. John. Nor was the conception of God as senex and puer peculiar to the alchemists, for many clerics who were not alchemists took it as a transformation of the wrathful and vindictive Yahweh of the Old Testament into the God of Love of the New. Thus the archetype of the king’s renewal manifested itself not only among the “philosophers” but also in ecclesiastical circles.390
477. There can be a psychological explanation of the filius regius only when this image has sloughed off its projected form and become a purely psychic experience. The Christ-lapis parallel shows clearly enough that the filius regius was more a psychic event than a physical one, since as a physical event it can demonstrably never occur and as a religious experience it is beyond question. There are many passages in the texts that can be interpreted—strange as this may sound—as an experience of Christ in matter. Others, again, lay so much emphasis on the lapis that one cannot but see in it a renewal and completion of the dogmatic image. An unequivocal substitution of the filius regius for Christ does not, to my knowledge, occur in the literature, for which reason one must call alchemy Christian even though heretical. The Christ-lapis remains an ambiguous figure.
478. This is of considerable importance as regards a psychological interpretation of the filius regius. In any such view the place of matter, with its magical fascination, is taken by the unconscious, which was projected into it. For our modern consciousness the dogmatic image of Christ changed, under the influence of evangelical Protestantism, into the personal Jesus, who in liberal rationalism, which abhorred all “mysticism,” gradually faded into a mere ethical prototype. The disappearance of the feminine element, namely the cult of the Mother of God, in Protestantism was all that was needed for the spirituality of the dogmatic image to detach itself from the earthly man and gradually sink into the unconscious. When such great and significant images fall into oblivion they do not disappear from the human sphere, nor do they lose their psychic power. Anyone in the Middle Ages who was familiar with the mysticism of alchemy remained in contact with the living dogma, even if he was a Protestant. This is probably the reason why alchemy reached its heyday at the end of the sixteenth and in the seventeenth century: for the Protestant it was the only way of still being Catholic. In the opus alchymicum he still had a completely valid transformation rite and a concrete mystery. But alchemy did not flourish only in Protestant countries; in Catholic France it was still widely practised during the eighteenth century, as numerous manuscripts and published works testify, such as those of Dom Pernety (1716–1800?), Lenglet du Fresnoy (1674–1752?), and the great compilation of Manget, published 1702. This is not surprising, as in France at that time the modern anti-Christian “schism” was brewing which was to culminate in the Revolution—that relatively harmless prelude to the horrors of today. The decline of alchemy during the Enlightenment meant for many Europeans a descent of all dogmatic images—which till then had been directly present in the ostensible secrets of chemical matter—to the underworld.
479. Just as the decay of the conscious dominant is followed by an irruption of chaos in the individual,391 so also in the case of the masses (Peasant Wars, Anabaptists, French Revolution, etc.), and the furious conflict of elements in the individual psyche is reflected in the unleashing of primeval blood-thirstiness and lust for murder on a collective scale. This is the sickness so vividly described in the Cantilena. The loss of the eternal images is in truth no light matter for the man of discernment. But since there are infinitely many more men of no discernment, nobody, apparently, notices that the truth expressed by the dogma has vanished in a cloud of

fog, and nobody seems to miss anything. The discerning person knows and feels that his psyche is disquieted by the loss of something that was the life-blood of his ancestors. The undiscerning  miss nothing, and only discover afterwards in the papers (much too late) the alarming symptoms that have now become “real” in the outside world because they were not perceived before inside, in oneself, just as the presence of the eternal images was not noticed. If they had been, a threnody for the lost god would have arisen, as once before in antiquity at the death of Great Pan.392 Instead, all well-meaning people assure us that one has only to believe he is still there—which merely adds stupidity to unconsciousness. Once the symptoms are really outside in some form of sociopolitical insanity, it is impossible to convince anybody that the conflict is in the psyche of every individual, since he is now quite sure where his enemy is. Then, the conflict which remains an intrapsychic phenomenon in the mind of the discerning person, takes place on the plane of projection in the form of political tension and murderous violence. To produce such consequences the individual must have been thoroughly indoctrinated with the insignificance and worthlessness of his psyche and of psychology in general. One must preach at him from all the pulpits of authority that salvation always comes from outside and that the meaning of his existence lies in the “community.” He can then be led docilely to the place where of his own natural accord he would rather go anyway: to the land of childhood, where one makes claims exclusively on others, and where, if wrong is done, it is always somebody else who has done it. When he no longer knows by what his soul is sustained, the potential of the unconscious is increased and takes the lead. Desirousness overpowers him, and illusory goals set up in the place of the eternal images excite his greed. The beast of prey seizes hold of him and soon makes him forget that he is a human being. His animal affects hamper any reflection that might stand in the way of his infantile wish-fulfilments, filling him instead with a feeling of a new-won right to existence and intoxicating him with the lust for booty and blood.

480. Only the living presence of the eternal images can lend the human psyche a dignity which makes it morally possible for a man to stand by his own soul, and be convinced that it is worth his while to persevere with it. Only then will he realize that the conflict is in him, that the discord and tribulation are his riches, which should not be squandered by attacking

others; and that, if fate should exact a debt from him in the form of guilt, it is a debt to himself. Then he will recognize the worth of his psyche, for nobody can owe a debt to a mere nothing. But when he loses his own values he becomes a hungry robber, the wolf, lion, and other ravening beasts which for the alchemists symbolized the appetites that break loose when the black waters of chaos—i.e., the unconsciousness of projection— have swallowed up the king.393

481. It is a subtle feature of the Cantilena that the pregnancy cravings of the mother are stilled with peacock’s flesh and lion’s blood, i.e., with her own flesh and blood.394 If the projected conflict is to be healed, it must return into the psyche of the individual, where it had its unconscious beginnings. He must celebrate a Last Supper with himself, and eat his own flesh and drink his own blood; which means that he must recognize and accept the other in himself. But if he persists in his one-sidedness, the two lions will tear each other to pieces. Is this perhaps the meaning of Christ’s teaching, that each must bear his own cross? For if you have to endure yourself, how will you be able to rend others also?
482. Such reflections are justified by the alchemical symbolism, as one can easily see if one examines the so-called allegories a little more closely and does not dismiss them at the start as worthless rubbish. The miraculous feeding with one’s own substance—so strangely reflecting its prototype, Christ—means nothing less than the integration of those parts of the personality which are still outside ego-consciousness. Lion and peacock, emblems of concupiscence and pride, signify the overweening pretensions of the human shadow, which we so gladly project on our fellow man in order to visit our own sins upon him with apparent justification. In the age- old image of the uroboros lies the thought of devouring oneself and turning oneself into a circulatory process, for it was clear to the more astute alchemists that the prima materia of the art was man himself.395 The uroboros is a dramatic symbol for the integration and assimilation of the opposite, i.e., of the shadow. This “feed-back” process is at the same time a symbol of immortality, since it is said of the uroboros that he slays himself and brings himself to life, fertilizes himself and gives birth to himself. He symbolizes the One, who proceeds from the clash of opposites, and he therefore constitutes the secret of the prima materia which, as a projection, unquestionably stems from man’s unconscious.

Accordingly, there must be some psychic datum in it which gives rise to such assertions, and these assertions must somehow characterize that datum even if they are not to be taken literally. What the ultimate reason is for these assertions or manifestations must remain a mystery, but a mystery whose inner kinship with the mystery of faith was sensed by the adepts, so that for them the two were identical.

3. THE RELIGIOUS PROBLEM OF THE KING’S RENEWAL

483. Medical psychology has recognized today that it is a therapeutic necessity, indeed, the first requisite of any thorough psychological method, for consciousness to confront its shadow.396 In the end this must lead to some kind of union, even though the union consists at first in an open conflict, and often remains so for a long time. It is a struggle that cannot be abolished by rational means.397 When it is wilfully repressed it continues in the unconscious and merely expresses itself indirectly and all the more dangerously, so no advantage is gained. The struggle goes on until the opponents run out of breath. What the outcome will be can never be seen in advance. The only certain thing is that both parties will be changed; but what the product of the union will be it is impossible to imagine. The empirical material shows that it usually takes the form of a subjective experience which, according to the unanimous testimony of history, is always of a religious order. If, therefore, the conflict is consciously endured and the analyst follows its course without prejudice, he will unfailingly observe compensations from the unconscious which aim at producing a unity. He will come across numerous symbols similar to those found in alchemy—often, indeed, the very same. He will also discover that not a few of these spontaneous formations have a numinous quality in harmony with the mysticism of the historical testimonies. It may happen, besides, that a patient, who till then had shut his eyes to religious questions, will develop an unexpected interest in these matters. He may, for instance, find himself getting converted from modern paganism to Christianity or from one creed to another, or even getting involved in fundamental theological questions which are incomprehensible to a layman. It is unnecessary for me to point out here that not every analysis leads to a conscious realization of the conflict, just as not every surgical

operation is as drastic as a resection of the stomach. There is a minor surgery, too, and in the same way there is a minor psychotherapy whose operations are harmless and require no such elucidation as I am concerned with here. The patients I have in mind are a small minority with certain spiritual demands to be satisfied, and only these patients undergo a development which presents the doctor with the kind of problem we are about to discuss.

484. Experience shows that the union of antagonistic elements is an irrational occurrence which can fairly be described as “mystical,” provided that one means by this an occurrence that cannot be reduced to anything else or regarded as in some way unauthentic. The decisive criterion here is not rationalistic opinions or regard for accepted theories, but simply and solely the value for the patient of the solution he has found and experienced. In this respect the doctor, whose primary concern is the preservation of life, is in an advantageous position, since he is by training an empiricist and has always had to employ medicines whose healing power he knew even though he did not understand how it worked. Equally, he finds all too often that the scientifically explained and attested healing power of his medicines does not work in practice.
485. If, now, the alchemists meant by their old king that he was God himself, this also applies to his son. They themselves must have shrunk from thinking out the logical consequences of their symbolism, otherwise they would have had to assert that God grows old and must be renewed through the art. Such a thought would have been possible at most in the Alexandrian epoch, when gods sprang up like mushrooms. But for medieval man it was barely conceivable.398 He was far more likely to consider that the art would change something in himself, for which reason he regarded its product as a kind of . Had he had any idea of “psychology,” he would almost certainly have called his healing medicament “psychic” and would have regarded the king’s renewal as a transformation of the conscious dominant—which naturally has nothing to do with a magical intervention in the sphere of the gods.
486. Man’s ideas and definitions of God have followed one another kaleidoscopically in the course of the millennia, and the evangelist Mark would have been very much astonished if he could have taken a look at Harnack’s History of Dogma. And yet it is not a matter of indifference

which definitions of his conscious dominant man considers to be binding, or what sort of views he happens to have in this regard. For on this depends whether consciousness will be king or not. If the unconscious rules to the exclusion of all else, everything is liable to end in destruction, as the present state of things gives us reason to fear. If the dominant is too weak, life is wasted in fruitless conflict because Sol and Luna will not unite. But if the son is the dominant, then Sol is his right eye and Luna his left. The dominant must contain them both, the standpoint of ego- consciousness and the standpoint of the archetypes in the unconscious. The binding force that inevitably attaches to a dominant should not mean a prison for one and a carte-blanche for the other, but duty and justice for both.

487. What the nature is of that unity which in some incomprehensible way embraces the antagonistic elements eludes our human judgment, for the simple reason that nobody can say what a being is like that unites the full range of consciousness with that of the unconscious. Man knows no more than his consciousness, and he knows himself only so far as this extends. Beyond that lies an unconscious sphere with no assignable limits, and it too belongs to the phenomenon Man. We might therefore say that perhaps the One is like a man, that is, determined and determinable and yet undetermined and indeterminable. Always one ends up with paradoxes when knowledge reaches its limits. The ego knows it is part of this being, but only a part. The symbolic phenomenology of the unconscious makes it clear that although consciousness is accorded the status of spiritual kingship with all its attendant dangers, we cannot say what kind of king it will be. This depends on two factors: on the decision of the ego and the assent of the unconscious. Any dominant that does not have the approval of the one or the other proves to be unstable in the long run. We know how often in the course of history consciousness has subjected its highest and most central ideas to drastic revision and correction, but we know little or nothing about the archetypal processes of change which, we may suppose, have taken place in the unconscious over the millennia, even though such speculations have no firm foundation. Nevertheless the possibility remains that the unconscious may reveal itself in an unexpected way at any time.*
488. The alchemical figure of the king has provoked this long discussion because it contains the whole of the hero myth including the king’s—and

God’s—renewal, and on the other hand because, as we conjecture, it symbolizes the dominant that rules consciousness. “King Sol” is not a pleonasm; it denotes a consciousness which is not only conscious as such but is conscious in a quite special way. It is controlled and directed by a dominant that, in the last resort, is the arbiter of values. The sun is the common light of nature, but the king, the dominant, introduces the human element and brings man nearer to the sun, or the sun nearer to man.399

489. Consciousness is renewed through its descent into the unconscious, whereby the two are joined. The renewed consciousness does not contain the unconscious but forms with it a totality symbolized by the son. But since father and son are of one being, and in alchemical language King Sol, representing the renewed consciousness, is the son, consciousness would be absolutely identical with the King as dominant. For the alchemists this difficulty did not exist, because the King was projected into a postulated substance and hence behaved merely as an object to the consciousness of the artifex. But if the projection is withdrawn by psychological criticism, we encounter the aforesaid difficulty that the renewed consciousness apparently coincides with the renewed king, or son. I have discussed the psychological aspect of this problem in the second of the Two Essays on Analytical Psychology, in the chapter on the “mana personality.” The difficulty cannot be resolved by purely logical argument but only by careful observation and analysis of the psychic state itself. Rather than launch out into a detailed discussion of case-histories I would prefer to recall the well-known words of Paul, “I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me” (Gal. 2 : 20), which aptly describe the peculiar nature of this state. From this we can see that that other, earlier state, when the king aged and disappeared, is marked by a consciousness in which a critical ego knowingly took the place of the sick king, looking back to an earlier “mythical” time when this ego still felt absolutely dependent on a higher and mightier non-ego. The subsequent disappearance of the feeling of dependence and the simultaneous strengthening of criticism are felt as progress, enlightenment, liberation, indeed as redemption, although a one- sided and limited being has usurped the throne of a king. A personal ego seizes the reins of power to its own destruction; for mere egohood, despite possessing an anima rationalis, is not even sufficient for the guidance of personal life, let alone for the guidance of men. For this purpose it always needs a “mythical” dominant, yet such a thing cannot simply be invented

and then believed in. Contemplating our own times we must say that though the need for an effective dominant was realized to a large extent, what was offered was nothing more than an arbitrary invention of the moment. The fact that it was also believed in goes to prove the gullibility and cluelessness of the public and at the same time the profoundly felt need for a spiritual authority transcending egohood. An authority of this kind is never the product of rational reflection or an invention of the moment, which always remains caught in the narrow circle of ego-bound consciousness; it springs from traditions whose roots go far deeper both historically and psychologically. Thus a real and essentially religious renewal can be based, for us, only on Christianity. The extremely radical reformation of Hinduism by the Buddha assimilated the traditional spirituality of India in its entirety and did not thrust a rootless novelty upon the world. It neither denied nor ignored the Hindu pantheon swarming with millions of gods, but boldly introduced Man, who before that had not been represented at all. Nor did Christ, regarded simply as a Jewish reformer, destroy the law, but made it, rather, into a matter of conviction. He likewise, as the regenerator of his age, set against the Greco-Roman pantheon and the speculations of the philosophers the figure of Man, not intending it as a contradiction but as the fulfilment of a mythologem that existed long before him—the conception of the Anthropos with its complex Egyptian, Persian, and Hellenistic background.

490. Any renewal not deeply rooted in the best spiritual tradition is ephemeral; but the dominant that grows from historical roots act like a living being within the ego-bound man. He does not possess it, it possesses him; therefore the alchemists said that the artifex is not the master but rather the minister of the stone—clearly showing that the stone is indeed a king towards whom the artifex behaves as a subject.
491. Although the renewed king corresponds to a renewed consciousness, this consciousness is as different from its former state as the filius regius differs from the enfeebled old king. Just as the old king must forgo his power and make way for the little up start ego, so the ego, when the renewed king returns, must step into the background. It still remains the sine qua non of consciousness,400 but it no longer imagines that it can settle everything and do everything by the force of its will. It no longer asserts that where there’s a will there’s a way. When lucky ideas come to it, it

does not take the credit for them, but begins to realize how dangerously close it had been to an inflation. The scope of its willing and doing becomes commensurate with reality again after an Ash Wednesday has descended upon its pre-sumptuousness.401

492. We can compare the logical sequence of psychological changes with the alchemical symbolism as follows:

Ego-bound state with feeble dominant

Ascent of the unconscious and/or descent of the ego into the unconscious

Conflict and synthesis of conscious and unconscious

Formation of a new dominant; circular symbols (e.g., mandala) of the self

Sick king, enfeebled by age, about to die

Disappearance of the king in his mother’s body, or his dissolution in water

Pregnancy,        sick-bed, symptoms, display of colours

King’s son, hermaphrodite, rotundum402

493. Though the comparison holds good on average, the symbolism of the Cantilena differs from the above schema in that the apotheosis of the filius regius takes place simultaneously with that of Queen Luna, thus paralleling the marriage in the Apocalypse. The Christian prototype gained the upper hand in Ripley, whereas usually the coniunctio precedes the production of the lapis and the latter is understood as the child of Sol and Luna. To that extent the lapis exactly corresponds to the psychological idea of the self, the product of conscious and unconscious. In Christian symbolism, on the other hand, there is a marriage of the Lamb (the Apocalyptic Christ) with the bride (Luna-Ecclesia). Because the lapis is itself androgynous, a synthesis of male and female, there is no need for another coniunctio. The symbolical androgyny of Christ does not, curiously enough, eliminate the marriage of the Lamb—the two things exist side by side.
494. We have here a discrepancy between the alchemical and psychological symbolism and the Christian. It is indeed difficult to imagine what kind of coniunctio beyond the union of conscious (male) and unconscious (female) in the regenerated dominant could be meant, unless

we assume, with the dogmatic tradition, that the regenerated dominant also brings the corpus mysticum of mankind (Ecclesia as Luna) into glorious reality. Among the alchemists, who were mostly solitaries by choice, the motif of the Apocalyptic marriage, characterized as the marriage of the Lamb (Rev. 19 : 7ff.), is missing, the accent here lying on the sacrificial appellation “lamb.” According to the oldest and most primitive tradition the king, despite his dignity and power, was a victim offered up for the prosperity of his country and his people, and in his godlike form he was even eaten. As we know, this archetype underwent an extremely complicated development in Christianity. From the standpoint of Christian symbolism the alchemists’ conception of the goal lacked, firstly, the motif of the heavenly marriage and, secondly, the almost more important motif of sacrifice and the totem meal. (The mourned gods of Asia Minor— Tammuz, Adonis, etc.—were, in all probability, originally sacrifices for the fruitfulness of the year.) The lapis was decidedly an ideal for hermits, a goal for isolated individuals. Besides that, it was a food (cibus immortalis), could be multiplied indefinitely, was a living being with body, soul, and spirit, an androgyne with incorruptible body, etc. Though likened to King Sol and even named such, it was not a sponsus, not a victim, and belonged to no community; it was like the “treasure hid in a field, the which when a man hath found, he hideth” (Matt. 13 : 44), or like “one pearl of great price,” for which a man “went and sold all that he had, and bought it” (Matt. 13 : 46). It was the well-guarded, precious secret of the individual.403 And though the old Masters emphasized that they would not hide their secret “jealously” 404 and would reveal it to all seekers, it was perfectly clear that the stone remained the preoccupation of the individual.

495. In this connection it should not be forgotten that in antiquity certain influences, evidently deriving from the Gnostic doctrine of the hermaphroditic Primordial Man,405 penetrated into Christianity and there gave rise to the view that Adam had been created an androgyne.406 And since Adam was the prototype of Christ, and Eve, sprung from his side, that of the Church, it is understandable that a picture of Christ should develop showing distinctly feminine features.407 In religious art the Christ- image has retained this character to the present day.408 Its veiled androgyny reflects the hermaphroditism of the lapis, which in this respect has more affinity with the views of the Gnostics.
496. In recent times the theme of androgyny has been subjected to quite special treatment in a book by a Catholic writer which merits our attention. This is Die Gnosis des Christentums, by Georg Koepgen, an important work that appeared in 1939 with the episcopal imprimatur in Salzburg, and since then has been placed on the Index. Of the Apollinian-Dionysian conflict in antiquity, Koepgen says it found its solution in Christianity because “in the person of Jesus the male is united with the female.” “Only in him do we find this juxtaposition of male and female in unbroken unity.” “If men and women can come together as equals in Christian worship, this has more than an accidental significance: it is the fulfilment of the androgyny that was made manifest in Christ” (p. 316). The change of sex in the believer is suggested in Rev. 14 : 4: “These are they that were not defiled with women; for they are virgins.” Koepgen says of this passage: “Here the new androgynous form of existence becomes visible. Christianity is neither male nor female, it is male-female in the sense that the male paired with the female in Jesus’s soul. In Jesus the tension and polaristic strife of sex are resolved in an androgynous unity. And the Church, as his heir, has taken this over from him: she too is androgynous.” As regards her constitution the Church is “hierarchically masculine, yet her soul is thoroughly feminine.” “The virgin priest . . . fulfils in his soul the androgynous unity of male and female; he renders visible again the psychic dimension which Christ showed us for the first time when he revealed the ‘manly virginity’ of his soul.”409
497. For Koepgen, therefore, not only Christ is androgynous but the Church as well, a remarkable conclusion the logic of which one cannot deny. The consequence of this is a special emphasis on bisexuality and then on the peculiar identity of the Church with Christ, which is based also on the doctrine of the corpus mysticum. This certainly forestalls the marriage of the Lamb at the end of time, for the androgyne “has everything it needs”410 and is already a complexio oppositorum. Who is not reminded here of the fragment from the Gospel according to the Egyptians cited by Clement of Alexandria: “When ye have trampled on the garment of shame, and when the two become one and the male with the female is neither male nor female.”411
498. Koepgen introduces his book with a dedication and a motto. The first is:  “Renatis  praedestinatione”  (To  those  who  are  reborn  out  of

predestination), and the second is from John 14 : 12: “He that believeth on me, the works that I do he shall do also, and greater works than these shall he do.” The dedication echoes the motif of election, which the author shares with the alchemists. For Morienus had said of alchemy:

God vouchsafes this divine and pure science to his faithful and his servants, that is, to those on whom nature made it proper to confer it from the beginning of things. For this thing can be naught else but the gift of God most high, who commits and shows it as he will, and to whom he will of his faithful servants. For the Lord selects of his servants those whom he wills and chooses, to seek after this divine science which is concealed from man, and having sought it to keep it with them.412

Dorn says much the same: “For it sometimes comes about, after many years, many labours, much study . . . that some are chosen, when much knocking,413 many prayers, and diligent enquiry have gone before.”414

499. The quotation from John is taken from the fourteenth chapter, where Christ teaches that whoever sees him sees the Father. He is in the Father and the Father is in him. The disciples are in him and he in them, moreover they will be sent the Holy Ghost as Paraclete and will do works that are greater than his own. This fourteenth chapter broaches a question that was to have great repercussions for the future: the problem of the Holy Ghost who will remain when Christ has gone, and who intensifies the interpenetration of the divine and the human to such a degree that we can properly speak of a “Christification” of the disciples. Among the Christian mystics this identity was carried again and again to the point of stigmatization. Only the mystics bring creativity into religion. That is probably why they can feel the presence and the workings of the Holy Ghost, and why they are nearer to the experience of brotherhood in Christ.
500. Koepgen thinks along the same lines, as his dedication and motto show. It is easy to see what happens when the logical conclusion is drawn from the fourteenth chapter of John: the opus Christi is transferred to the individual. He then becomes the bearer of the mystery, and this development was unconsciously prefigured and anticipated in alchemy, which showed clear signs of becoming a religion of the Holy Ghost and of the Sapientia Dei. Koepgen’s standpoint is that of creative mysticism, which has always been critical of the Church. Though this is not obviously

so in Koepgen, his attitude betrays itself indirectly in the living content of his book, which consistently presses for a deepening and broadening of the dogmatic ideas. Because he remained fully conscious of his conclusions, he does not stray so very far outside the Church, whereas the alchemists, because of their unconsciousness and naive lack of reflection, and unhampered by intellectual responsibility, went very much further in their symbolism. But the point of departure for both is the procreative, revelatory working of the Holy Ghost, who is a “wind that bloweth where it listeth,” and who advances beyond his own workings to “greater works than these.” The creative mystic was ever a cross for the Church, but it is to him that we owe what is best in humanity.415

4. REGINA

501. We have met the figure of the Queen so often in the course of our exposition that we need say only a few words about her here. We have seen that as Luna she is the archetypal companion of Sol. Together they form the classic alchemical syzygy, signifying on the one hand gold and silver, or something of the kind,416 and on the other the heavenly pair described in Aurora Consurgens:

Therefore I will rise and go into the city, seeking in the streets and the broad ways a chaste virgin to espouse, comely in face, more comely in body, most comely in her garments, that she may roll back the stone from the door of my sepulchre and give me wings like a dove, and I will fly with her into heaven and then say: I live for ever, and will rest in her, for the Queen stood on my right hand in gilded clothing, surrounded with variety   O Queen of the heights, arise, make haste, my love, my

spouse, speak, beloved, to thy lover, who and of what kind and how great thou art    My beloved, who is ruddy, hath spoken to me, he hath

sought and besought: I am the flower of the field and the lily of the valleys, I am the mother of fair love and of fear and of knowledge and of holy hope. As the fruitful vine I have brought forth a pleasant odour, and my flowers are the fruit and honour and riches. I am the bed of my beloved, . . . wounding his heart with one of my eyes and with one hair of my neck. I am the sweet smell of ointments giving an odour above all aromatical spices, and like unto cinnamon and balsam and chosen

myrrh.417

502. The prototype of this spiritual Minne is the relationship of King Solomon to the Queen of Sheba. Johannes Grasseus says of the white dove that is hidden in the lead: “This is the chaste, wise, and rich Queen of Sheba, veiled in white, who was willing to give herself to none but King Solomon. No human heart can sufficiently investigate all this.” 418 Penotus says:

You have the virgin earth, give her a husband who is fitting for her! She is the Queen of Sheba, hence there is need of a king crowned with a diadem—where shall we find him? We see how the heavenly sun gives of his splendour to all other bodies, and the earthly or mineral sun will do likewise, when he is set in his own heaven, which is named the “Queen of Sheba,” who came from the ends of the earth to behold the glory of Solomon. So, too, our Mercury has left his own lands and clothed himself with the fairest garment of white, and has given himself to Solomon, and not to any other who is a stranger [extraneo] and impure.419

503. Here Mercurius in feminine form is the queen, and she is the “heaven” wherein the sun shines. She is thus thought of as a medium surrounding the sun—“a man encompassed by a woman,” as was said of Christ420—or as Shiva in the embrace of Shakti. This medium has the nature of Mercurius, that paradoxical being, whose one definable meaning is the unconscious.421 The queen appears in the texts as the maternal vessel of Sol and as the aureole of the king, i.e., as a crown.422 In the “Tractatus aureus de Lapide”423 the queen, at her apotheosis,424 holds a discourse in which she says:

After death is life restored to me. To me, poor as I am, were entrusted the treasures of the wise and mighty. Therefore I, too, can make the poor rich, give grace to the humble, and restore health to the sick. But I am not yet equal to my most beloved brother, the mighty king, who has yet to be raised from the dead. But when he comes, he will verily show that my words are the truth.

504. In this “soror et sponsa” we can easily discern the analogy with the Church, which, as the corpus mysticum, is the vessel for the anima Christi. This vessel is called by Penotus the “Queen of Sheba,” referring to the

passage in Matthew 12 :42 (also Luke 11 : 31): “For she [the queen of the south] came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon.” In this connection I would like to mention a passage in the “Speculum de Mysteriis” of Honorius of Autun, which likewise refers to the “queen of the south.” He says:425

John abandoned his bride and, himself a virgin, followed the son of a virgin. And because for love of her he despised the bond of the flesh, Christ loved him before all the disciples. For while the Queen of the South gave her body and her blood to the disciples, John lay in the bosom of Jesus and drank from that fount of wisdom; which secret of the Word he afterward committed to the world; the Word, namely, which is hidden in the Father, because in the bosom of Jesus are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.426

505. In the passage from the “Tractatus aureus” it is the Queen of the South who is entrusted with the treasures of the wise and mighty, and in Honorius she gives her body and blood to the disciples. In both cases she seems to be identified with Jesus. We can see from this how close was the thought of Christ’s androgyny, and how very much the queen and the king are one, in the sense that body and soul or spirit and soul are one.427 As a matter of fact the queen corresponds to the soul (anima) and the king to spirit, the dominant of consciousness.428 In view of this interpretation of the queen we can understand why the secret of the work was sometimes called the “Reginae Mysteria.”429
506. The close connection between king and queen is due to the fact that occasionally they both suffer the same fate: she is dissolved with him in the bath (in another version she is the bath itself). Thus Eleazar says of the king’s bath: “For in this fiery sea the king cannot endure; it robs the old Albaon430 of all his strength and consumes his body and turns it to blood- red blood. Nor is the queen freed; she must perish in this fiery bath.”431
507. Further, it is not surprising that king and queen form as it were a unity, since they are in effect its forerunners. The situation becomes worthy of note only because of the interpretation we have given it: that in the mythologem the king, as the dominant of consciousness, is almost identical with the archetypal figure that personifies the unconscious, namely the anima. The two figures are in some respects diametrically

opposed to one another, as are conscious and unconscious; but, just as male and female are united in the human organism, so the psychic material remains the same whether in the conscious or in the unconscious state. Only, sometimes it is associated with the ego, sometimes not.

508. The anima in her negative aspect—that is, when she remains unconscious and hidden—exerts a possessive influence on the subject. The chief symptoms of this possession are blind moods and compulsive entanglements on one side, and on the other cold, unrelated absorption in principles and abstract ideas. The negative aspect of the anima indicates therefore a special form of psychological maladjustment. This is either compensated from the conscious side or else it compensates a consciousness already marked by a contrary (and equally incorrect) attitude. For the negative aspect of the conscious dominant is far from being a “God-given” idea; it is the most egoistic intention of all, which seeks to play an important role and, by wearing some kind of mask, to appear as something favourable (identification with the persona!). The anima corresponding to this attitude is an intriguer who continually aids and abets the ego in its role, while digging in the background the very pits into which the infatuated ego is destined to fall.
509. But a conscious attitude that renounces its ego-bound intentions—not in imagination only, but in truth—and submits to the suprapersonal decrees of fate, can claim to be serving a king. This more exalted attitude raises the status of the anima from that of a temptress to a psychopomp.432 The transformation of the kingly substance from a lion into a king has its counterpart in the transformation of the feminine element from a serpent into a queen. The coronation, apotheosis, and marriage signalize the equal status of conscious and unconscious that becomes possible at the highest level—a coincidentia oppositorum with redeeming effects.
510. It would certainly be desirable if a psychological explanation and clarification could be given of what seems to be indicated by the mythologem of the marriage. But the psychologist does not feel responsible for the existence of what cannot be known; as the handmaid of truth he must be satisfied with establishing the existence of these phenomena, mysterious as they are. The union of conscious and unconscious symbolized by the royal marriage is a mythological idea which on a higher level assumes the character of a psychological concept. I

must expressly emphasize that the psychological concept is definitely not derived from the mythologem, but solely from practical investigation of both the historical and the case material. What this empirical material looks like has been shown in the dream-series given in Psychology and Alchemy. It serves as a paradigm in place of hundreds of examples, and it may therefore be regarded as more than an individual curiosity.

511. The psychological union of opposites is an intuitive idea which covers the phenomenology of this process. It is not an “explanatory” hypothesis for something that, by definition, transcends our powers of conception. For, when we say that conscious and unconscious unite, we are saying in effect that this process is inconceivable. The unconscious is unconscious and therefore can neither be grasped nor conceived. The union of opposites is a transconscious process and, in principle, not amenable to scientific explanation. The marriage must remain the “mystery of the queen,” the secret of the art, of which the Rosarium reports King Solomon as saying:

This is my daughter, for whose sake men say that the Queen of the South came out of the east, like the rising dawn, in order to hear, understand, and behold the wisdom of Solomon. Power, honour, strength, and dominion are given into her hand; she wears the royal crown of seven glittering stars, like a bride adorned for her husband, and on her robe is written in golden lettering, in Greek, Arabic, and Latin: “I am the only daughter of the wise, utterly unknown to the foolish.”433

512. The Queen of Sheba, Wisdom, the royal art, and the “daughter of the philosophers” are all so interfused that the underlying psychologem clearly emerges: the art is queen of the alchemist’s heart, she is at once his mother, his daughter, and his beloved, and in his art and its allegories the drama of his own soul, his individuation process, is played out.

V

ADAM AND EVE

1. ADAM AS THE ARCANE SUBSTANCE

513. Like the King and Queen, our first parents are among those figures through whom the alchemists expressed the symbolism of opposites. Adam is mentioned far more frequently than Eve, and for this reason we shall have to concern ourselves first and principally with him. He will give us plenty to get on with, as he figures in a great variety of significations which enter the world of alchemical ideas from the most heterogeneous sources.
514. Ruland defines Adam as a synonym for the aqua permanens, in contradistinction to Eve, who signifies earth. Water is the prime arcane substance, and is therefore the agent of transformation as well as the substance to be transformed. As “water” is synonymous with Mercurius, we can understand the remark of John Dee that “that other Mercurius” who appears in the course of the work is the “Mercurius of the Philosophers, that most renowned Microcosm and Adam.”1 Adam is mentioned as the arcane substance in Rosinus. His correlates are lead and “Azoch,” 2 both, like Adam,3 of hermaphroditic nature. Similarly, Dorn says that the lapis was called “Adam, who bore his invisible Eve hidden in his body.” 4 This archaic idea occasionally turns up in the products of the insane today.5 The dual nature of Adam is suggested in the “Gloria mundi”: “When Almighty God had created Adam and set him in paradise, he showed him two things in the future, saying, ‘Behold, Adam, here are two things: one fixed and constant, the other fugitive.’”6
515. As the transformative substance, therefore, Adam is also the king7 who is renewed in the bath. Basilius Valentinus says in his poem: “Adam sat in the bath which the old Dragon had prepared, and in which Venus found her companion.”8
516. It was a bold stroke, even for a Baroque imagination, to bring together Adam and Venus. In the poem Venus is the “fountain that flows from the stone and submerges her father, absorbing his body and life into herself.” She is thus a parallel figure to Beya, who dissolved Gabricus into atoms in her body. In the same section in which Ruland mentions Adam as a synonym for water he states that he was also called the “tall man.”9 Ruland was a Paracelsist, so this expression may well coincide with the “great man” of Paracelsus, the Adech,10 whom Ruland defines as “our inner and invisible man.”11
517. Accordingly the arcane substance would appear to be the “inner” man or Primordial Man, known as Adam Kadmon in the Cabala. In the poem of Valentinus, this inner man is swamped by the goddess of love—an unmistakable psychologem for a definite and typical psychic state, which is also symbolized very aptly by the Gnostic love-affair between Nous and Physis. In both cases the “higher spiritual man” is the more comprehensive, supra-ordinate totality which we know as the self. The bath, submersion, baptism, and drowning are synonymous, and all are alchemical symbols for the unconscious state of the self, its embodiments, as it were—or, more precisely, for the unconscious process by which the self is “reborn” and enters into a state in which it can be experienced. This state is then described as the “filius regius.” The “old dragon” who prepared the bath, a primeval creature dwelling in the caverns of the earth, is, psychologically, a personification of the instinctual psyche, generally symbolized by reptiles. It is as though the alchemists were trying to express the fact that the unconscious itself initiates the process of renewal.
518. Adam’s bath is also mentioned in a Latin manuscript in my possession, where an unspecified being or creature addresses Adam thus: “Hear, Adam, I will speak with you. You must go with me into the bath; you know in what manner we are influenced the one by the other, and how you must pass through me. Thus I step up to you with my sharpened arrows, aiming them at your heart …”12
519. Here again Adam is the transformative substance, the “old Adam” who is to renew himself. The arrows recall the telum passionis of Mercurius and the shafts of Luna, which the alchemists, via the mysticism of Hugh of St. Victor13 and others, referred to that well-known passage in the Song of Songs: “Thou hast wounded my heart,” as we have seen

earlier.14 The speaker in the manuscript must be feminine, as immediately before there is a reference to the cohabitation of man and woman.

520. Both texts point to a hierosgamos which presupposes a kind of consanguineous relationship between sponsus and sponsa. The relationship between Adam and Eve is as close as it is difficult to define. According to an old tradition Adam was androgynous before the creation of Eve.15 Eve therefore was more himself than if she had been his sister. Adam’s highly unbiblical marriage is emphasized as a hierosgamos by the fact that God himself was present at the ceremony as best man (paranymphus).16 Traces of cabalistic tradition are frequently noticeable in the alchemical treatises from the sixteenth century on. Both our texts are fairly late and so fall well within this tradition.
521. We must now turn to the question of why it was that Adam should have been selected as a symbol for the prima materia or transformative substance. This was probably due, in the first place, to the fact that he was made out of clay, the “ubiquitous” materia vilis that was axiomatically regarded as the prima materia and for that very reason was so tantalizingly difficult to find, although it was “before all eyes.” It was a piece of the original chaos, of the massa confusa, not yet differentiated but capable of differentiation; something, therefore, like shapeless, embryonic tissue. Everything could be made out of it.17 For us the essential feature of the prima materia is that it was defined as the “massa confusa” and “chaos,” referring to the original state of hostility between the elements, the disorder which the artifex gradually reduced to order by his operations. Corresponding to the four elements there were four stages of the process (tetrameria), marked by four colours, by means of which the originally chaotic arcane substance finally attained to unity, to the “One,” the lapis, which at the same time was an homunculus.18 In this way the Philosopher repeated God’s work of creation described in Genesis 1. No wonder, therefore, that he called his prima materia “Adam” and asserted that it, like him, consisted or was made out of the four elements. “For out of the four elements were created our Father Adam and his children,” says the Turba.19 And Gabir ibn Hayyan (Jabir)20 says in his “Book of Balances”:

The Pentateuch says, regarding the creation of the first being, that his body was composed of four things, which thereafter were transmitted by heredity: the warm, the cold, the moist, and the dry. He was in fact

composed of earth and water, a body and a soul. Dryness came to him from the earth, moisture from the water, heat from the spirit, and cold from the soul.21

The later literature often mentions Adam as a compositio elementorum.22 Because he was composed out of the four cosmic principles he was called the Microcosm.23 The “Tractatus Micreris” says:24

Even so is man called the lesser world [mundus minor], because in him is the figure of the heavens, of the earth, of the sun and moon, a visible figure upon earth and [at the same time] invisible, wherefore he is named the lesser world. Therefore the old Philosophers said of him, When the water fell upon the earth, Adam was created, who is the lesser world.25

Similar views of Adam are found elsewhere; thus the Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer says that God collected the dust from which Adam was made from the four corners of the earth.26 Rabbi Meir (2nd cent.) states that Adam was made from dust from all over the world. In Mohammedan tradition Tabari, Masudi, and others say that when the earth refused to provide the material for Adam’s creation the angel of death came along with three kinds of earth: black, white, and red.27 The Syrian “Book of the Cave of Treasures” relates:

And they saw God take a grain of dust from the whole earth, and a drop of water from the whole sea, and a breath of wind from the upper air, and a little warmth from the nature of fire. And the angels saw how these four weak elements, the dry, the moist, the cold, and the warm, were laid in the hollow of his hand. And then God made Adam.28

The poet Jalal-ud-din Rumi says that the earth from which Adam was made had seven colours.29 A collection of English riddles from the fifteenth century asks the following questions concerning Adam’s creation:

Questions bitwene the Maister of Oxinford and his scoler: Whereof was Adam made? Of VIII thingis: the first of earthe, the second of fire, the IIId of wynde, the IIIIth of clowdys, the Vth of aire where thorough he speketh and thinketh, the Vlth of dewe whereby hi sweteth, the Vllth of flowres wherof Adam hath his ien, the VIIIth is salte wherof Adam hath salt teres.30

522. This material clearly shows the tetradic and ogdoadic nature of Adam, and there is also that characteristic uncertainty as to three and seven: four elements, four colours, four qualities, four humours,31 and three and seven colours.32
523. Dorn calls the ternarius (the number three) “peculiar to Adam” (Adamo proprius). And because the ternarius was the “offspring of the unarius” (the number one), the devil, whose nature is binary, could do nothing against him, but had to make his attack upon Eve,33 “who was divided from her husband as a natural binarius from the unity of his ternarius.”34 Vigenerus, commenting on I Cor. 15 : 47,35 writes:

For the elements are circular [in their arrangement], as Hermes makes clear, each being surrounded by two others with which it agrees in one of those qualities peculiar to itself, as [for instance] earth is between fire and water, partaking in the dryness of fire and the coldness of water. And so with the rest. . . . 36 Man, therefore, who is an image of the great world, and is called the microcosm or little world (as the little world, made after the similitude of its archetype, and compounded of the four elements, is called the great man), has also his heaven and his earth. For the soul and the understanding are his heaven; his body and senses his earth. Therefore, to know the heaven and earth of man, is the same as to have a full and complete knowledge of the whole world and of the things of nature.37

524. The circular arrangement of the elements in the world and in man is symbolized by the mandala and its quaternary structure. Adam would then be a quaternarius, as he was composed of red, black, white, and green dust from the four corners of the earth, and his stature reached from one end of the world to the other.38 According to one Targum, God took the dust not only from the four quarters but also from the sacred spot, the “centre of the world.”39 The four quarters reappear in the (Greek) letters of Adam’s name: anatole (sunrise, East), dysis (sunset, West), arktos (Great Bear, North), mesembria (noon, South).40 The “Book of the Cave of Treasures” states that Adam stood on the spot where the cross was later erected, and that this spot was the centre of the earth. Adam, too, was buried at the centre of the earth—on Golgotha. He died on a Friday, at the same hour as the Redeemer.41 Eve bore two pairs of twins—Cain and Lebhûdhâ, Abel and Kelîmath—who later married each other (marriage quaternio). Adam’s

grave is the “cave of treasures.” All his descendants must pay their respects to his body and “not depart from it.” When the Flood was approaching, Noah took Adam’s body with him into the ark. The ark flew over the flood on the wings of the wind from east to west and from north to south, thus describing a cross upon the waters.

525. At the midpoint where Adam was buried, the “four corners come together; for when God created the earth his power ran along in front of it, and the earth ran after his power from four sides like winds and gentle breezes, and there his power stopped and came to rest. And there will be accomplished the redemption for Adam and all his children.” Over the grave where the cross would stand there grew a tree, and there too was the altar of Melchizedek. When Shem laid the body on the ground,

the four sides moved away from one another, the earth opened in the form of a cross, and Shem and Melchizedek laid the body inside. And as soon as they had done this, the four sides moved together again and covered the body of our Father Adam, and the doors of the earth were closed. And the same spot was named the Place of the Skull, because the head of all men was laid there, and Golgotha, because it was round . . . and Gabbatha, because all the nations were gathered in it.42

“There the power of God will appear, for the four corners of the world have there become one,” say the Ethiopic Clementines.43 God said to Adam: “I shall make thee God, but not now; only after the passing of a great number of years.”44 The apocryphal “Life of Adam and Eve” says that the east and north of paradise were given to Adam, but the west and south to Eve.45 The Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer relates that Adam was buried in the double cave Machpelah, and that Eve, Abraham and Sara, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah were buried there too. “Therefore the cave was named Kiriath Arba’, the City of Four, because four husbands and wives were buried there.”46

526. I do not want to pile up proofs of Adam’s quaternary nature, but only to give it due emphasis. Psychologically the four are the four orienting functions of consciousness, two of them perceptive (irrational), and two discriminative (rational). We could say that all mythological figures who are marked by a quaternity have ultimately to do with the structure of consciousness. We can therefore understand why Isaac Luria attributed every psychic quality to Adam: he is the psyche par excellence.47
527. The material I have presented is so suggestive that no detailed commentary is needed. Adam stands not only for the psyche but for its totality; he is a symbol of the self, and hence a visualization of the “irrepresentable” Godhead. Even if all the texts here cited were not available to the alchemists, a knowledge of the Zosimos treatises or of certain Cabalistic traditions would have been sufficient to make quite clear to them what was meant when the arcane substance was called Adam. I need hardly point out how important these historical statements are from the psychological point of view: they give us valuable indications of the way in which the corresponding dream-symbols should be evaluated. We do not devalue statements that originally were intended to be metaphysical when we demonstrate their psychic nature; on the contrary, we confirm their factual character. But, by treating them as psychic phenomena, we remove them from the inaccessible realm of metaphysics, about which nothing verifiable can be said, and this disposes of the impossible question as to whether they are “true” or not. We take our stand simply and solely on the facts, recognizing that the archetypal structure of the unconscious will produce, over and over again and irrespective of tradition, those figures which reappear in the history of all epochs and all peoples, and will endow them with the same significance and numinosity that have been theirs from the beginning.

2. THE STATUE

528. An old tradition says that Adam was created “a lifeless statue.” It is worthy of remark that the statue plays a mysterious role in ancient alchemy. One of the earliest Greek treatises, the Book of Komarios,48 says:

After the body had been hidden in the darkness, [the spirit] found it full of light. And the soul united with the body, since the body had become divine through its relation to the soul, and it dwelt in the soul. For the body clothed itself in the light of divinity, and the darkness departed from it, and all were united in love, body, soul, and spirit, and all became one; in this the mystery is hidden. But the mystery was fulfilled in their coming together, and the house was sealed, and the statue [] was erected, filled with light and divinity.49

Here the statue evidently denotes the end-product of the process, the

lapis Philosophorum or its equivalent.

529. The statue has a somewhat different significance in the treatise of Senior,50 who speaks of the “water that is extracted from the hearts of statues.” Senior is identical with the Arabian alchemist Ibn ‘Umail al- Tamimi. He is reported to have opened tombs and sarcophagi in Egypt and to have removed the mummies.51 Mummies were supposed to possess medicinal virtues, and for this reason bits of corpses had long been mentioned in European pharmacy under the name of “mumia.”52 It is possible that “mumia” was also used for alchemical purposes. It is mentioned in Khunrath as synonymous with the prima materia.53 In Paracelsus, who may have been Khunrath’s source for this, “Mumia balsamita” has something to do with the elixir, and is even called the physical life-principle itself.54 Senior’s statues may well have been Egyptian sarcophagi, which as we know were portrait-statues. In the same treatise there is a description of a statue (of Hermes Trismegistus) in an underground chapel. Senior says: “I shall now make known to you what that wise man who made the statue has hidden in that house; in it he has described that whole science, as it were, in the figure, and taught his wisdom in the stone, and revealed it to the discerning.” Michael Maier comments: “That is the statue from whose heart the water is extracted.” He also mentions that a stone statue which pronounced oracles was dedicated to Hermes in Achaia Pharis.
530. In Raymond Lully (Ramon Llull) there is an “oil that is extracted from the heart of statues,” and moreover “by the washing of water and the drying of fire.”55 This is an extremely paradoxical operation in which the oil evidently serves as a mediating and uniting agent.
531. There is an allusion to the statues in Thomas Norton’s “Ordinall of Alkimy”:

But holy Alkimy of right is to be loved, Which treateth of a precious Medicine, Such as trewly maketh Gold and Silver fine: Whereof example for Testimonie

Is in a Citty of Catilony.

Which Raymund Lully, Knight, men [do] suppose, Made in seaven Images the trewth to disclose; Three were good Silver, in shape like Ladies bright, Everie each of Foure were Gold and like a Knight:

In borders of their Clothing Letters did appeare,

Signifying in Sentence as it sheweth here.56

532. The “seven” refer to the gods of the planets, or the seven metals.57 The correlation of the “three” (Venus, moon, earth) with silver (Luna) and of the “four” with gold (Sol) is remarkable in that three is usually considered a masculine and four a feminine number.58 As Lully was undoubtedly acquainted with Senior this legend seems like a concretization of Senior’s saying.59
533. The idea of a precious substance hidden in the “statue” is an old tradition and is particularly true of the statues of Hermes or Mercurius. Pseudo-Dionysius60 says that the pagans made statues () of Mercurius and hid in them a simulacrum of the god. In this way they worshipped not the unseemly herm but the image hidden inside.61 Plato is referring to these statues when he makes Alcibiades say that Socrates “bears a strong resemblance to those figures of Silenus in statuaries’ shops, represented holding pipes or flutes; they are hollow inside, and when they are taken apart you see that they contain little figures [] of gods.”62
534. It must have appealed very much to the imagination of the alchemists that there were statues of Mercurius with the real god hidden inside. Mercurius was their favourite name for that being who changed himself, during the work, from the prima materia into the perfected lapis Philosophorum. The figure of Adam readily lent itself as a biblical synonym for the alchemical Mercurius, first because he too was androgynous, and second because of his dual aspect as the first and second Adam. The second Adam is Christ, whose mystical androgyny is established in ecclesiastical tradition.63 I shall come back to this aspect of Adam later.
535. According to the tradition of the Mandaeans, Adam was created by the seven in the form of a “lifeless bodily statue” which could not stand erect. This characteristic expression “bodily statue” frequently recurs in their literature and recalls the Chaldaean myth handed down by the Naassenes, that man’s body was created by the demons and was called a statue (

).64 Ptahil, the world-creator, tried to “throw the soul into the statue,” but Manda d’Hayye, the redeemer, “took the soul in his arms” and completed the work without Ptahil.65 In this connection we may note that there is a description of the statue of Adam in Cabalistic literature.66

536. As Adam has always been associated with the idea of the second Adam in the minds of Christian writers,67 it is readily understandable that this idea should reappear among the alchemists. Thus Mylius says:

There now remains the second part of the philosophical practice, by far the more difficult, by much the more sublime. In this we read that all the sinews of talent, all the mental efforts of many philosophers have wearied themselves. For it is more difficult to make a man live again, than to slay him. Here is God’s work besought: for it is a great mystery to create souls, and to mould the lifeless body into a living statue.68

This living statue refers to the end-result of the work; and the work, as we have seen, was on the one hand a repetition of the creation of the world, and on the other a process of redemption, for which reason the lapis was paraphrased as the risen Christ. The texts sometimes strike a chiliastic note with their references to a golden age when men will live forever without poverty and sickness.69 Now it is remarkable that the statue is mentioned in connection with the eschatological ideas of the Manichaeans as reported by Hegemonius: the world will be consumed with fire and the souls of sinners chained for all eternity, and “then shall these things be, when the statue shall come.”70 I would not venture to say whether the Manichaeans influenced the alchemists or not, but it is worth noting that in both cases the statue is connected with the end-state. The tradition reported by Hegemonius has been confirmed by the recently discovered original work of Mani, the Kephalaia.71 This says:

At that time [the Father of Greatness] made the messenger and Jesus the radiant and the Virgin of Light and the Pillar of Glory and the gods.

. . . 72 The fourth time, when they shall weep, is the time when the statue [] shall raise itself on the last day. . . . 73 At that same hour, when the last statue shall rise, they shall weep. . . . 74 The first rock is the pillar [] of glory, the perfect man, who has been summoned by the glorious messenger    He bore the whole world and became the first of

all bearers. . . . 75 The intellectual element [] [gathered itself] into the pillar of glory, and the pillar of glory into the first man. . . . 76 The garments, which are named the Great Garments, are the five intellectual elements, which have [made perfect] the body of the pillar of glory, the perfect man.77

It is clear from these extracts that the statue or pillar is either the

perfect Primordial Man () or at least his body, both at the beginning of creation and at the end of time.

537. The statue has yet another meaning in alchemy which is worth mentioning. In his treatise “De Igne et Sale” Vigenerus calls the sun the “eye and heart of the sensible world and the image of the invisible God,” adding that St. Dionysius called it the “clear and manifest statue of God.”78 This statement probably refers to Dionysius’s De divinis nominibus (ch. IV): “The sun is the visible image of divine goodness.”79 Vigenerus translated   not by “imago” but by “statua,” which does not agree with the Latin text of the collected edition brought out by Marsilio Ficino in 1502–3, to which he may have had access. It is not easy to see why he rendered  by “statua,” unless perhaps he wished to avoid repeating the word “imago” from the end of the preceding sentence. But it may also be that the word “cor” recalled to his mind Senior’s phrase “from the hearts of statues,” as might easily happen with so learned an alchemist. There is, however, another source to be considered: it is evident from this same treatise that Vigenerus was acquainted with the Zohar. There the Haye Sarah on Genesis 28:22 says that Malchuth is called the “statue” when she is united with Tifereth.80 Genesis 28 : 22 runs: “And this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be God’s house.”81 The stone is evidently a reminder that here the upper (Tifereth) has united with the lower (Malchuth): Tifereth the son82 has come together with the “Matrona”83 in the hierosgamos. If our conjecture is correct, the statue could therefore be the Cabalistic equivalent of the lapis Philosophorum, which is likewise a union of male and female. In the same section of Vigenerus’s treatise the sun does in fact appear as the bridegroom.84 As Augustine is quoted a few lines later, it is possible that Vigenerus was thinking of that passage where Augustine says:

Like a bridegroom Christ went forth from his chamber, he went out with a presage of his nuptials into the field of the world. He ran like a giant exulting on his way, and came to the marriage bed of the cross, and there, in mounting it, he consummated his marriage. And when he perceived the sighs of the creature, by a loving exchange he gave himself up to the torment in place of his bride. He yielded up also the carbuncle, as the jewel of his blood, and he joined the woman to himself for ever. “I have espoused you to one husband,” says the apostle, “that I

may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ” [2 Cor. 11 : 2].85

538. Since Adam signifies not only the beginning of the work, the prima materia, but also the end, the lapis, and the lapis is the product of the royal marriage, it is possible that Vigenerus’s “statua Dei,” replacing the more usual “imago Dei,” has some connection with the Cabalistic interpretation of the stone of Bethel, which in turn marked the union of Tifereth and Malchuth. The statue stands for the inert materiality of Adam, who still needs an animating soul; it is thus a symbol for one of the main preoccupations of alchemy.

3. ADAM AS THE FIRST ADEPT

539. Not always in alchemy is Adam created out of the four elements. The “Introitus apertus,” for instance, says that the soul of the gold is united with Mercurius in lead, “that they may bring forth Adam and his wife Eve.”86 Here Adam and Eve take the place of King and Queen. But in general Adam, being composed of the four elements, either is the prima materia and the arcane substance itself,87 or he brought it with him from paradise, at the beginning of the world, as the first adept. Maier mentions that Adam brought antimony (then regarded as an arcane substance)88 from paradise.89 The long line of “Philosophers” begins with him. The “Aquarium sapientum” asserts that the secret of the stone was revealed to Adam from above and was subsequently “sought after with singular longing by all the Holy Patriarchs.”90 The “Gloria mundi” says: “The Lord endowed Adam with great wisdom, and such marvellous insight that he immediately, without the help of any teacher—simply by virtue of his original righteousness—had a perfect knowledge of the seven liberal arts, and of all animals, plants, stones, metals, and minerals. Nay, what is more, he had a perfect understanding of the Holy Trinity, and of the coming of Christ in the flesh.”91 This curious opinion is traditional and comes mainly from Rabbinic sources.92 Aquinas, too, thought that Adam, because of his perfection, must have had a knowledge of all natural things.93 In Arabian tradition Shîth (Seth) learnt medicine from him.94 Adam also built the Ka’ba, for which purpose the angel Gabriel gave him the ground-plan and a precious stone. Later the stone turned black because of the sins of men.95
540. The Jewish sources are even more explicit. Adam understood all the

arts,96 he invented writing, and from the angels he learnt husbandry and all the professions including the art of the smith.97 A treatise from the eleventh century lists thirty kinds of fruit which he brought with him from paradise.98 Maimonides states that Adam wrote a book on trees and plants.99 Rabbi Eliezer credits Adam with the invention of the leap-year.100 According to him, the tables on which God later inscribed the law came from Adam.101 From Eliezer, probably, derives the statement of Bernardus Trevisanus that Hermes Trismegistus found seven stone tables in the vale of Hebron, left over from antediluvian times. On them was a description of the seven liberal arts. Adam had put these tables there after his expulsion from paradise.102 According to Dorn, Adam was the first “practitioner and inventor of the arts.” He had a knowledge of all things “before and after the Fall,” and he also prophesied the renewal and chastening of the world by the flood.103 His descendants set up two stone tables on which they recorded all the “natural arts” in hieroglyphic script. Noah found one of these tables at the foot of Mount Ararat, bearing a record of astronomy.104

541. This legend probably goes back to Jewish tradition, to stories like the one mentioned in the Zohar:

When Adam was in paradise, God sent the holy angel Raziel,105 the keeper of the higher secrets, to him with a book, in which the higher holy wisdom was set forth. In this book two and seventy kinds of wisdom were described in six hundred and seventy sections. By means of this book there were given to him fifteen hundred keys to wisdom, which were known to none of the higher holy men, and all remained secret until this book came to Adam. . . . Henceforth he kept this book hid and secret, daily using this treasure of the Lord, which discovered to him the higher secrets of which even the foremost angels knew nothing, until he was driven out of paradise. But when he sinned and transgressed the command of the Lord, this book fled from him. . . . He bequeathed it to his son Seth. And from Seth it came to Enoch, and from him . . . to Abraham.106

542. In the Clementine Homilies (2nd cent.) Adam is the first of a series of eight incarnations of the “true prophet.” The last is Jesus.107 This idea of a pre-existent seer may spring from Jewish or Judaeo-Christian tradition, but in China it is vividly realized in the figure of P’an Ku.108 He is represented as a dwarf clad in a bear-skin or in leaves; on his head he has two horns.109

He proceeded from yang and yin, fashioned the chaos, and created heaven and earth. He was helped by four symbolic animals—the unicorn, the phoenix, the tortoise, and the dragon.110 He is also represented with the sun in one hand and the moon in the other. In another version he has a dragon’s head and a snake’s body. He changed himself into the earth with all its creatures and thus proved to be a real homo maximus and Anthropos. P’an Ku is of Taoist origin and nothing seems to be known of him before the fourth century A.D.111 He reincarnated himself in Yüan-shih T’ien-tsun, the First Cause and the highest in heaven.112 As the fount of truth he announces the secret teaching, which promises immortality, to every new age. After completing the work of creation he gave up his bodily form and found himself aimlessly floating in empty space. He therefore desired rebirth in visible form. At length he found a holy virgin, forty years old, who lived alone on a mountain, where’ she nourished herself on air and clouds. She was hermaphroditic, the embodiment of both yang and yin. Every day she collected the quintessence of sun and moon. P’an Ku was attracted by her virgin purity, and once, when she breathed in, he entered into her in the form of a ray of light, so that she became pregnant. The pregnancy lasted for twelve years, and the birth took place from the spinal column. From then on she was called T’ai-yüan Sheng-mu, “the Holy Mother of the First Cause.”113 The relatively late date of the legend leaves the possibility of Christian influence open. All the same, its analogy with Christian and Persian ideas does not prove its dependence on these sources.

543. The series of eight incarnations of the “true prophet” is distinguished by the special position of the eighth, namely Christ. The eighth prophet is not merely the last in the series; he corresponds to the first and is at the same time the fulfilment of the seven, and signifies the entry into a new order. I have shown in Psychology and Alchemy (pars. 200ff.), with the help of a modern dream, that whereas the seven form an uninterrupted series, the step to the eighth involves hesitation or uncertainty and is a repetition of the same phenomenon that occurs with three and four (the Axiom of Maria). It is very remarkable that we meet it again in the Taoist series of “eight immortals” (hsien-yên): the seven are great sages or saints who dwell in heaven or on the earth, but the eighth is a girl who sweeps up the fallen flowers at the southern gate of heaven.114 The parallel to this is Grimm’s tale of the seven ravens: there the seven brothers have one

sister.115 One is reminded in this connection of Sophia, of whom Irenaeus says: “This mother they also call the Ogdoad, Sophia, Terra, Jerusalem, Holy Spirit, and, with a masculine reference, Lord.”116 She is “below and outside the Pleroma.” The same thought occurs in connection with the seven planets in Celsus’s description of the “diagram of the Ophites,” attacked by Origen.117 This diagram is what I would call a mandala—an ordering pattern or pattern of order which is either consciously devised or appears spontaneously as a product of unconscious processes.118 The description Origen gives of the diagram is unfortunately not particularly clear, but at least we can make out that it consisted of ten circles, presumably concentric, since he speaks of a circumference and a centre.119 The outermost circle was labelled “Leviathan” and the innermost “Behemoth,” the two apparently coinciding, for “Leviathan” was the name for the centre as well as the circumference.120 At the same time, “the impious diagram said that the Leviathan . . . is the soul that has permeated the universe.”121

544. Origen had got hold of a diagram like the one used by Celsus and discovered in it the names of the seven angels Celsus alludes to. The prince of these angels was called the “accursed God,” and they themselves were called sometimes gods of light and sometimes “archons.” The “accursed God” refers to the Judaeo-Christian world-creator, as Origen duly notes. Yahweh appears here obviously as the prince and father of the seven archons.122 The first of them had a “lion’s form” and was named Michael; the second was a bull and was named Suriel, the bull-formed; the third, Raphael, had the form of a snake; the fourth, named Gabriel, the form of an eagle; the fifth, Thauthabaoth, the form of a bear; the sixth, Erataoth, the form of a dog; and the seventh had the form of an ass and was called Onoël or Taphabaoth or Tharthataoth.123
545. It is to be presumed that these names were distributed among the eight inner circles. The seven archons correspond to the seven planets and represent so many spheres with doors which the celebrant has to pass through on his ascent. Here, says Origen, is the origin of the Ogdoad, which, clearly, must consist of the seven and their father Yahweh. At this point Origen mentions, as the “first and seventh,” Ialdabaoth, of whom we have not heard before. This supreme archon, as we know from other sources too, is lion-headed or lion-like.124 He would therefore correspond to

Michael in the Ophitic diagram, the first in the list of archons. “Ialdabaoth” means “child of chaos”; thus he is the first-born of a new order that supersedes the original state of chaos. As the first son, he is the last of the series,125 a feature he shares with Adam and also with Leviathan, who, as we have seen, is both circumference and centre. These analogies suggest that the diagram showed a series of concentric circles.126 The old world-picture, with the earth as the centre of the universe, consisted of various “heavens”—spherical layers or spheres—arranged concentrically round the centre and named after the planets. The outermost planetary sphere or archon was Saturn. Outside this would be the sphere of the fixed stars (corresponding to Leviathan as the tenth circle in the diagram), unless we postulated some place for the demiurge or for the father or mother of the archons. It is evident from the text that an Ogdoad is meant,127 as in the system of Ptolemy reported by Irenaeus.128 There the eighth sphere was called Achamoth (Sophia, Sapientia),129 and was of feminine nature, just as in Damascius the hebdomad was attributed to Kronos and the ogdoad to Rhea.130 In our text the virgin Prunicus is connected with the mandala of seven circles:131 “They have further added on top of one another sayings of the prophets, circles included in circles . . . and a power flowing from a certain Prunicus, a virgin, a living soul.”132

546. The “circles included in circles” point decisively to a concentric arrangement, as we find it, significantly enough, in Herodotus’s description133 of the seven circular walls of Ecbatana.134 The ramparts of these walls were all painted in different colours; of the two innermost and highest walls one was silvered and the other gilded. The walls obviously represented the concentric circles of the planets, each characterized by a special colour.
547. In the introduction to his diagram Celsus reports on the idea, found among the Persians and in the Mithraic mysteries, of a stairway with seven doors and an eighth door at the top. The first door was Saturn and was correlated with lead, and so on. The seventh door was gold and signified the sun. The colours are also mentioned.135 The stairway represents the “passage of the soul” (animae transitus). The eighth door corresponds to the sphere of the fixed stars.
548. The archetype of the seven appears again in the division of the week and the naming of its days, and in the musical octave, where the last note is

always the beginning of a new cycle. This may be a cogent reason why the eighth is feminine: it is the mother of a new series. In Clement’s line of prophets the eighth is Christ. As the first and second Adam he rounds off the series of seven, just as, according to Gregory the Great, he, “coming in the flesh, joined the Pleiades, for he had within himself, at once and for ever, the works of the sevenfold Holy Spirit.”136 These references should suffice to show the special nature of the eighth and its tendency to be feminine in Christian gnosis.

549. Adam’s dual nature reappears in Christ: he is male-female. Boehme expresses this by saying that Christ was a “virgin in mind.”137 She is “an image of the holy number Three,”138 “eternally uncreated and ungenerated.”139 Where the “Word” is, there is the virgin, for the “Word” is in her.140 She is the “woman’s seed,”141 which shall bruise the head of the serpent (Gen. 3 : 15).142 He who shall tread on its head is Christ, who thus appears identical with the seed of the woman or with the virgin. In Boehme the virgin has the character of an anima, for “she is given to be a companion to thee in thy soul,”143 and at the same time, as divine power and wisdom, she is in heaven and in paradise.144 God took her to him to be his “spouse.”145 She expresses all the profundity and infinity of the Godhead,146 thus corresponding to the Indian Shakti.147 The androgynous unity of Shiva and Shakti is depicted in Tantric iconography as permanent cohabitation.148
550. Boehme’s ideas had a strong influence on Franz von Baader, who asserted that God gave Adam a helpmeet (adjutor) through whom Adam “was to have brought forth without an external woman,” as Mary did without a man. But Adam “fell for”149 the bestial act of copulation and was in danger of himself sinking to the level of a beast. God, recognizing this possibility, thereupon created Eve as a “salutary counter-institution [rettende Gegenanstalt], to prevent an otherwise unavoidable and deeper descent of man . . . into animal nature.”150 When Adam threatened to sink into it nevertheless, his divine androgyny departed from him, but was preserved in Eve as the “woman’s seed,” with the help of which man would free himself from the “seed of the serpent.” For “he who was born in the Virgin Mary is the same who had to depart from Adam on account of his fall.”151
551. The presence of a divine pair or androgyne in the human soul is

touched upon by Origen: “They say that as the sun and moon stand as the two great lights in the firmament of heaven, so in us Christ and the Church.”152 And thus, too, Adam and Eve are in each of us, as Gregory the Great says; Adam standing for the spirit, Eve for the flesh.153

552. Origen, like Clement of Rome, credits Adam with the gift of prophecy, “for he prophesied a great mystery in Christ and the Church, saying, ‘Therefore shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh.’”154 (Gen. 2 : 24; cf. Matt. 19 : 5 and Mark 10 : 7.)
553. I shall end this account of the excellent equipment of the first man with an Arabian legend, which is not without a deeper meaning. When Adam left Paradise, God sent the angel Gabriel to him with an offer of three gifts of which he should choose one: modesty, intelligence, and religion. Without hesitation Adam chose intelligence. Thereupon Gabriel commanded modesty and religion to return at once to heaven. But they refused, invoking God’s own command never to part from intelligence, wherever it might be found. For the Prophet had said: “Never submit to one who has no trace of intelligence.”155

4. THE POLARITY OF ADAM

554. There has always existed a widely felt need to think of the first man as having a “light” nature; hence the frequent comparison with the sun. The alchemists did not insist on this aspect, so I need say only a few words about it here. Usually, however, in the non-alchemical literature Adam is a “light” figure whose splendour even outshines that of the sun. He lost his radiance owing to the Fall.156 Here we have a hint of his dual nature: on the one hand shining and perfect, on the other dark and earthy. Haggadic interpretation derives his name from adamah, earth.157
555. His dual nature is confirmed by Origen: one Adam was made out of earth, the other “after the image and likeness of God. He is our inner man, invisible, incorporeal, unspotted, and immortal.”158 Similar views are expressed by Philo.159 It is worth noting that in Colossians 1:15 Christ is this “image of the invisible God, the firstborn of every creature.”
556. Adam’s dual nature is reflected in his hermaphroditism. Thus Dorn says that the “fiery and perfect Mercurius” is the “true hermaphroditic Adam.”160 This idea occurs among the Naassenes. “These men,” says Hippolytus, “worship as the beginning of all things, according to their own statement, a Man and a Son of Man. But this Man is masculo-feminine [

] and is called by them Adamas; and hymns to him are many and various.” He quotes as an example: “From thee the father, through thee the mother, the two immortal names, parents of the Aeons, O citizen of heaven, O Man of the Great Name!”161 Adam is masculo-feminine also in Jewish tradition. In Midrash Rabbah VIII, 1162 he is an androgyne, or a man and woman grown into one body with two faces. God sawed the body in two and made each half a back.163 Through his androgyny Adam has affinities with Plato’s sphere-shaped Original Being as well as with the Persian Gayomart. This idea has left a few traces in alchemy. For instance, Glauber attributes the sign of the circle to Adam and the square to Eve.164 The circle is usually the sign for gold and sun. It is found in the latter sense in the “Book of the Cave of Treasures”: “Then God made Adam   And

when the angels saw his glorious appearance, they were moved by the beauty of the sight; for they saw the form of his countenance, while it was

enkindled, in shining splendour like to the ball of the sun, and the light of his eyes like to the sun, and the form of his body like to the light of a crystal.”165 An Arabic Hermes-text on the creation of Adam relates that, when the virgin (Eve) came to power, the angel Harus (Horus) arose from the unanimous will of the planets. This Harus took sixty spirits from the planets, eighty-three from the zodiac, ninety from the highest heaven, one hundred and twenty-seven from the earth, three hundred and sixty spirits in all, mixed them together and created out of them Adamanus, the first man, “after the form of the highest heaven.”166 The number 360 and the “form of heaven” both indicate his circular shape.

557. Aside, however, from his androgyny there is a fundamental polarity in Adam which is based on the contradiction between his physical and spiritual nature. This was felt very early, and is expressed in the view of Rabbi Jeremiah ben Eleazar that Adam must have had two faces, in accordance with his interpretation of Psalm 139 : 5: “Thou hast beset me behind and before”;167 and in the Islamic view that Adam’s soul was created thousands of years before his body and then refused to enter the figure made of clay, so that God had to put it in by force.168
558. According to a Rabbinic view Adam even had a tail.169 His condition at first was altogether most inauspicious. As he lay, still inanimate, on the ground, he was of a greenish hue, with thousands of impure spirits fluttering round who all wanted to get into him. But God shooed them away till only one remained, Lilith, the “mistress of spirits,” who succeeded in so attaching herself to Adam’s body that she became pregnant by him. Only when Eve appeared did she fly away again.170 The daemonic Lilith seems to be a certain aspect of Adam, for the legend says that she was created with him from the same earth.171 It throws a bad light on Adam’s nature when we are told that countless demons and spooks arose from his nocturnal emissions (ex nocturno seminis fluxu). This happened during the one hundred and thirty years which he had to spend apart from Eve, banished from the heavenly court “under the anathema of excommunication.”172 In Gnosticism the original man Adamas, who is nothing but a paraphrase of Adam,173 was equated with the ithyphallic Hermes and with Korybas, the pederastic seducer of Dionysus,174 as well as with the ithyphallic Cabiri.175 In the Pistis Sophia we meet a Sabaoth Adamas, the ruler () of the Aeons, who fights against the light of

Pistis Sophia176 and is thus wholly on the side of evil. According to the teachings of the Bogomils, Adam was created by Satanaël, God’s first son and the fallen angel, out of mud. But Satanael was unable to bring him to life, so God did it for him.177 Adam’s inner connection with Satan is likewise suggested in Rabbinic tradition, where Adam will one day sit on Satan’s throne.178

559. As the first man, Adam is the homo maximus, the Anthropos, from whom the macrocosm arose, or who is the macrocosm. He is not only the prima materia but a universal soul which is also the soul of all men.179 According to the Mandaeans he is the ”mystery of the worlds.”180 The conception of the Anthropos first penetrated into alchemy through Zosimos, for whom Adam was a dual figure—the fleshly man and the “man of light.”181 I have discussed the significance of the Anthropos idea at such length in Psychology and Alchemy that no further documentation is needed here. I shall therefore confine myself to material that is of historical interest in following the thought-processes of the alchemists.
560. Already in Zosimos182 three sources can be distinguished: Jewish, Christian, and pagan. In later alchemy the pagan-syncretistic element naturally fades into the background to leave room for the predominance of the Christian element. In the sixteenth century, the Jewish element becomes noticeable again, under the influence of the Cabala, which had been made accessible to a wider public by Johann Reuchlin183 and Pico della Mirandola.184 Somewhat later the humanists then made their contribution from the Hebrew and Aramaic sources, and especially from the Zohar. In the eighteenth century an allegedly Jewish treatise appeared, Abraham Eleazar’s Uraltes Chymisches Werck,185 making copious use of Hebraic terminology and claiming to be the mysterious “Rindenbuch” of Abraham the Jew, which, it was said, had revealed the art of gold-making to Nicholas Flamel (1330–1417).186 In this treatise there is the following passage:

For Noah must wash me in the deepest sea, with pain and toil, that my blackness may depart; I must lie here in the deserts among many serpents, and there is none to pity me; I must be fixed to this black cross, and must be cleansed therefrom with wretchedness and vinegar187 and made white, that the inwards of my head may be like the sun or Marez,188 and my heart may shine like a carbuncle, and the old Adam come forth

again from me. O! Adam Kadmon, how beautiful art thou! And adorned with the rikmah189 of the King of the World! Like Kedar190 I am black henceforth; ah! how long! O come, my Mesech,191 and disrobe me, that mine inner beauty may be revealed. . . . O that the serpent roused up Eve! To which I must testify with my black colour that clings to me, and that is become mine by the curse of this persuasion, and therefore am I unworthy of all my brothers. O Sulamith afflicted within and without, the watchmen of the great city will find thee and wound thee, strip thee of thy garments and smite thee, and take away thy veil    Yet shall I be

blest again when I am delivered from the poison brought upon me by the curse, and mine inmost seed and first birth comes forth. For its father is the sun, and its mother the moon. Yea, I know else of no other bridegroom who should love me, because I am so black. Ah! do thou tear down the heavens and melt my mountains! For thou didst crumble the mighty kingdoms of Canaan like dust, and crush them with the brazen serpent of Joshua and offer them up to Algir  [fire], that she who is encompassed by many mountains may be freed.192

561. It is evident that the speaker is the feminine personification of the prima materia in the nigredo state. Psychologically this dark figure is the unconscious anima. In this condition she corresponds to the nefesh of the Cabalists.193 She is “desire”; for as Knorr von Rosenroth trenchantly remarks: “The mother is nothing but the inclination of the father for the lower.”193a The blackness comes from Eve’s sin. Sulamith (the Shulamite)194 and Eve (Hawa, earth) are contaminated into a single figure, who contains in herself the first Adam, like the mother her child, and at the same time awaits the second Adam, i.e., Adam before the Fall, the perfect Original Man, as her lover and bridegroom. She hopes to be freed by him from her blackness. Here again we encounter the mysticism of the Song of Songs as in the Aurora consurgens I. Jewish gnosis (Cabala) combines with Christian mysticism: sponsus and sponsa are called on the one hand Tifereth and Malchuth and on the other Christ and the Church.195 The mysticism of the Song of Songs196 appeared in Jewish-Gnostic circles during the third and fourth centuries, as is proved by the fragments of a treatise called Shiur Koma (”The Measure of the Body”). It concerns a “mysticism only superficially Judaicized by references to the description of the Beloved in the Song of Songs.”197 The figure of Tifereth belongs to the Sefiroth system, which is conceived to be a tree. Tifereth occupies the

middle position. Adam Kadmon is either the whole tree or is thought of as the mediator between the supreme authority, En Soph, and the Sefiroth.198 The black Shulamite in our text corresponds to Malchuth as a widow, who awaits union with Tifereth and hence the restoration of the original wholeness. Accordingly, Adam Kadmon here takes the place of Tifereth. He is mentioned in Philo and in the midrashic tradition. From the latter source comes the distinction between the heavenly and earthly Adam in I Cor. 15 : 47: “The first man was of the earth, earthy; the second man is from heaven, heavenly” (DV), and verse 45: “The first man, Adam, became a living soul; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit” (DV). Thus the original hylicpsychic man is contrasted with the later pneumatic man.

562. The Tractatus de Revolutionibus Animarum, of Knorr von Rosenroth, Part I, ch. 1, § 10, contains a passage which is of importance for the psychological interpretation of Adam:

Ezekiel 34 : 31 says, “Ye are Adam.”199 This means, you are rightly called by the name of Adam. The meaning is: If the text were to be understood literally, it could rightly be objected that all the peoples of the world or the Gentiles are men after the same manner as the Israelites, that is, of upright stature. Wherefore it would have to be said: Ye are men. But in truth (the meaning is this: out of your souls was composed the microcosm of Adam)    200 § 11. Ye are Adam. (He says, as it were,

that all the souls of the Israelites were in truth nothing but the first- created Adam.) And you were his sparks and his limbs.201

Here Adam appears on the one hand as the body of the people of Israel 202 and on the other as its “general soul.” This conception can be taken as a projection of the interior Adam: the homo maximus appears as a totality, as the “self” of the people. As the inner man, however, he is the totality of the individual, the synthesis of all parts of the psyche, and therefore of the conscious and the unconscious. § 20 says: “And therefore our masters have said: The son of David shall not come until all the souls that were in the body (of the first-created) have fully gone out.”203 The “going out” of the souls from the Primordial Man can be understood as the projection of a psychic integration process: the saving wholeness of the inner man—i.e., the “Messiah”—cannot come about until all parts of the psyche have been made conscious. This may be

sufficient to explain why it takes so long for the second Adam to appear.

563. The same treatise says: “From En Soph, from the most general One, was produced the universe, which is Adam Kadmon, who is One and Many, and of whom and in whom are all things.” “The differences of genera are denoted by concentric circles” which proceed from him or are contained in him. He is thus something like a schema of the psychic structure, in which the “specific differences [those characterizing species] are denoted by a straight line”204 (i.e., in a concentric system, by the radius). “Thus in Adam Kadmon are represented all the orders of things, both genera and species and individuals.”205
564. Among the pagan sources we must distinguish an Egyptian one, concerned with the very ancient tradition of the God-man Osiris and the theology of kingship; a Persian one, derived from Gayomart; and an Indian one, derived from Purusha.206 The Christian source for alchemical ideas is the aforementioned Pauline doctrine of the first and second Adam.

5. THE “OLD ADAM”

565. After these preliminary remarks we can turn back to Eleazar’s text, beginning with the significant passage in the middle where Adam appears. The reader is immediately struck by the expression “the old Adam,” who is evidently equated with Adam Kadmon. Rather than “the old” Adam we would expect “the second” or “the original” Adam, chiefly because “the old Adam” means above all the old, sinful, unredeemed man, in accordance with Romans 6 : 6: “Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin.” That this passage must have been at the back of the author’s mind is shown by the sentence: “I must be fixed to this black cross, and must be cleansed therefrom with wretchedness and vinegar.”
566. The author purports to be a Jew, but was clumsy enough not only to perpetrate anachronisms but to reveal his own unquestionably Christian psychology. He had a good knowledge of the Bible and was familiar with “Biblical” language. The language of his book is the stylistically and grammatically fluid German of the eighteenth century. He has a liking for edifying rhetoric (could he have been a theologian?) One thing is clear, at

any rate, and that is that the expression “the old Adam” on the lips of such a person can have only one meaning, namely, the “old man” whom we are to put off (Eph. 4 : 22) in accordance with the command in Colossians 3 : 9: “Put off the old man with his deeds.” These passages must have been known to the author, and he could easily have avoided the resultant contradiction or ambiguity by putting, instead of “old,” “original,” or something of that kind.

567. I must beg the reader’s indulgence for apparently splitting hairs and harping somewhat pedantically on this little defect in the style of a none too careful author. But it is more than a question of a mere slip of the pen: a text that is riddled with ambiguities, that sets up the most unexpected relationships (Adam and the Shulamite!) and blends together the most heterogeneous situations, has unquestionable affinities with the structure of a dream and consequently necessitates a careful examination of its figures. A cliché like “the old Adam,” which can have no other meaning, does not occur in a dream-text without a very good reason, even though the author might have excused it as a mere “slip.” Even if—as seems to be the case here—he understood the “old” Adam as the “Ur-” or “original” Adam, he was compelled by some obscure intention to pick on “the old Adam,” which in this context is thoroughly ambiguous. Had it occurred in a real dream it would be a technical blunder for the interpreter to overlook this ostensible slip. As we know, these quid pro quos invariably happen at the critical places, where two contrary tendencies cross.
568. Our suspicions have been aroused, and in what follows we shall pursue them on the assumption that “the old Adam” is not a mere accident but is one of those irritating ambiguities of which there is no lack in the alchemical texts. They are irritating because seldom if ever can it be ascertained with any certainty whether they arose from a conscious intention to deceive or from an unconscious conflict.
569. The “old” Adam, evidently, can “come forth again” from the Shulamite, the black mother, only because he had once got into her in some way. But that can only have been the old, sinful Adam, for the blackness of the Shulamite is an expression for sin, the original sin, as the text shows. Behind this idea lies the archetype of the Anthropos who had fallen under the power of Physis, but it seems doubtful whether our author had any conscious knowledge of this myth. Had he really been familiar

with Cabalistic thought he would have known that Adam Kadmon, the spiritual First Man, was an “Idea” in the Platonic sense, which could never be confused with the sinful man. By his equation “old Adam” = Adam Kadmon the author has contaminated two opposites. The interpretation of this passage must therefore be: from the black Shulamite comes forth the antithesis “old Adam”: Adam Kadmon. Her obvious connection with the earth as the mother of all living things makes it clear that her son was the sinful Adam, but not Adam Kadmon, who, as we have seen, is an emanation of En Soph. Nevertheless, by contaminating the two, the text makes both of them issue from the Shulamite. The “old” Adam and the Primordial Man appear to be identical, and the author could excuse himself by saying that by “old” he meant the first or original Adam—a point which it is not easy to deny.

570. As high as the Primordial Man stands on the one side, so low on the other is the sinful, empirical man. The phenomenon of contamination, which we meet so frequently in the psychology of dreams and of primitives, is no mere accident but is based on a common denominator; at some point the opposites prove to be identical, and this implies the possibility of their contamination. One of the commonest instances of this is the identity of the god and his animal attribute. Such paradoxes derive from the non-human quality of the god’s and the animal’s psychology. The divine psyche is as far above the human as the animal psyche reaches down into subhuman depths.
571. The “old Adam” corresponds to the primitive man, the “shadow” of our present-day consciousness, and the primitive man has his roots in the animal man (the “tailed” Adam),207 who has long since vanished from our consciousness. Even the primitive man has become a stranger to us, so that we have to rediscover his psychology. It was therefore something of a surprise when analytical psychology discovered in the products of the unconscious of modern man so much archaic material, and not only that but the sinister darkness of the animal world of instinct. Though “instincts” or “drives” can be formulated in physiological and biological terms they cannot be pinned down in that way, for they are also psychic entities which manifest themselves in a world of fantasy peculiarly their own. They are not just physiological or consistently biological phenomena, but are at the same time, even in their content, meaningful fantasy structures with a

symbolic character. An instinct does not apprehend its object blindly and at random, but brings to it a certain psychic “viewpoint” or interpretation; for every instinct is linked a priori with a corresponding image of the situation, as can be proved indirectly in cases of the symbiosis of plant and animal. In man we have direct insight into that remarkable world of “magical” ideas which cluster round the instincts and not only express their form and mode of manifestation but “trigger them off.”208 The world of instinct, simple as it seems to the rationalist, reveals itself on the primitive level as a complicated interplay of physiological facts, taboos, rites, class-systems, and tribal lore, which impose a restrictive form on the instinct from the beginning, preconsciously, and make it serve a higher purpose. Under natural conditions a spiritual limitation is set upon the unlimited drive of the instinct to fulfil itself, which differentiates it and makes it available for different applications. Rites on a primitive level are uninterpreted gestures; on a higher level they become mythologized.

572. The primary connection between image and instinct explains the interdependence of instinct and religion in the most general sense. These two spheres are in mutually compensatory relationship, and by “instinct” we must understand not merely “Eros” but everything that goes by the name of “instinct.”209 “Religion” on the primitive level means the psychic regulatory system that is coordinated with the dynamism of instinct. On a higher level this primary interdependence is sometimes lost, and then religion can easily become an antidote to instinct, whereupon the originally compensatory relationship degenerates into conflict, religion petrifies into formalism, and instinct is vitiated. A split of this kind is not due to a mere accident, nor is it a meaningless catastrophe. It lies rather in the nature of the evolutionary process itself, in the increasing extension and differentiation of consciousness. For just as there is no energy without the tension of opposites, so there can be no consciousness without the perception of differences. But any stronger emphasis of differences leads to polarity and finally to a conflict which maintains the necessary tension of opposites. This tension is needed on the one hand for increased energy production and on the other for the further differentiation of differences, both of which are indispensable requisites for the development of consciousness. But although this conflict is unquestionably useful it also has very evident disadvantages, which sometimes prove injurious. Then a counter-movement sets in, in the attempt to reconcile the conflicting

parties. As this process has repeated itself countless times in the course of the many thousand years of conscious development, corresponding customs and rites have grown up for the purpose of bringing the opposites together. These reconciling procedures are rites performed by man, but their content is an act of help or reconciliation emanating from the divine sphere, whether in the present or in the past. Generally the rites are linked up with the original state of man and with events that took place in the age of the heroes or ancestors. This is as a rule a defective state, or a situation of distress, which is helped by divine intervention, and the intervention is repeated in the rite. To take a simple example: When the rice will not grow, a member of the rice-totem clan builds himself a hut in the rice-field and tells the rice how it originally grew from the rice-ancestor. The rice then remembers its origin and starts growing again. The ritual anamnesis of the ancestor has the same effect as his intervention.

573. The prime situation of distress consists either in a withdrawal of the favourable gods and the emergence of harmful ones, or in the alienation of the gods by man’s negligence, folly, or sacrilege, or else (as in the Taoist view) in the separation210 of heaven and earth for unfathomable reasons, so that they can now come together again only if the wise man re-establishes Tao in himself by ritual meditation. In this way he brings his own heaven and earth into harmony.211
574. Just as the rice spoils in the defective state, so too man degenerates, whether from the malignity of the gods or from his own stupidity or sin, and comes into conflict with his original nature. He forgets his origination from the human ancestor, and a ritual anamnesis is therefore required. Thus the archetype of Man, the Anthropos, is constellated and forms the essential core of the great religions. In the idea of the homo maximus the Above and Below of creation are reunited.

6. THE TRANSFORMATION

575. The appearance of Adam Kadmon has characteristic consequences for the Shulamite: it brings about a solificatio, an illumination of the “inwards of the head.” This is a veiled but, for the psychology of alchemy, typical allusion to the “transfiguration”(glorificatio) of the adept or of his inner man. For Adam is “interior homo noster,” the Primordial Man in us.
576. Seen in the light of the above remarks, Eleazar’s text assumes a by no means uninteresting aspect and, since its train of thought is characteristic of the basic ideas of alchemy, a meaning with many facets. It depicts a situation of distress corresponding to the alchemical nigredo: the blackness of guilt has covered the bridal earth as with black paint. The Shulamite comes into the same category as those black goddesses (Isis, Artemis, Parvati, Mary) whose names mean “earth.” Eve, like Adam, ate of the tree of knowledge and thereby broke into the realm of divine privileges—”ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.” In other words she inadvertently discovered the possibility of moral consciousness, which until then had been outside man’s range. As a result, a polarity was torn open with momentous consequences. There was a sundering of earth from heaven, the original paradise was shut down, the glory of the First Man was extinguished, Malchuth became a widow, the fiery yang went back aloft, and the damp yin enveloped humanity with darkness, degenerated through ever-increasing wantonness, and finally swelled into the black waters of the Deluge, which threatened to drown every living thing but on the other hand could be understood more hopefully as an ablution of the blackness. Noah, too, appears in a different light: he is no longer seen as someone runing away from the catastrophe but as Lord of the Waters, the minister of the ablution. This operation does not seem to be enough, however, for the Shulamite promptly gets herself into the opposite kind of pickle—into the dry desert, where, like the children of Israel, she is menaced by evil in the form of poisonous serpents.212 This is an allusion to the tribulations of the Exodus, which in a sense was a repetition of the expulsion from paradise, since bidding farewell to the fleshpots of Egypt was quite as painful a prospect as the stony ground from which our first parents had to wrest a living in the sweat of their brows. But even with this last extremity

the goal is not reached, for the Shulamite has still to be fixed to a black cross. The idea of the cross points beyond the simple antithesis to a double antithesis, i.e., to a quaternio. To the mind of the alchemist this meant primarily the intercrossing elements:

or the four qualities:

We know that this fastening to a cross denotes a painful state of suspension, or a tearing asunder in the four directions.213 The alchemists therefore set themselves the task of reconciling the warring elements and reducing them to unity. In our text this state is abolished when the distressing blackness is washed off with “wretchedness and vinegar.” This is an obvious allusion to the “hyssop and gall” which Christ was given to drink. In the oft-quoted text of Maier, “wretchedness and vinegar” stand for the melancholia of the nigredo, as contrasted with the

“joy and gladness” of the redeemed state. The washing with wretchedness and vinegar finally brings about the whitening as well as a solificatio of the “inwards of the head,” presumably the brain or even the soul. We can only interpret this as meaning that the Shulamite experienced a transformation similar to Parvati’s, who, saddened by her blackness, was given a golden skin by the gods. Here we must emphasize that it is the lapis or hermaphrodite which, as the god who is quartered or torn asunder or crucified on the Four, represents and suffers the discord of the elements, and at the same time brings about the union of the Four and besides that is identical with the product of the union. The alchemists could not help identifying their Primordial Man with Christ, for whom our author substitutes Adam Kadmon.

577. Since sun and gold are equivalent concepts in alchemy, the solificatio means that the “inwards of the head”—whatever we are to understand by that—are transformed into light, or “Marez,” the precious white earth. The Shulamite’s heart, too, will shine “like a carbuncle.” From the time of the Middle Ages the carbuncle was regarded as a synonym for the lapis.214 Here the allegory is transparent: as the head is illuminated, so the heart burns in love.
578. The difference between Parvati and the Shulamite is, therefore, that whereas Parvati is transformed outwardly the Shulamite is transformed inwardly. Outwardly she remains as black as ever. Unlike the Shulamite of the Song of Songs, whose skin is “swarthy,” our Shulamite declares that her blackness “clings” to her as if painted on, and that one has only to disrobe her to bring her “inner beauty” to light. By the sin of Eve she is plunged, as it were, in ink, in the “tincture,” and blackened, just as in Islamic legend the precious stone that Allah gave Adam was blackened by his sin. If the poison of the curse is taken from her -which will obviously happen when the Beloved appears—then her “innermost seed,” her “first birth,” will come forth. According to the text this birth can refer only to the appearance of Adam Kadmon. He is the only one who loves her despite her blackness. But this blackness seems to be rather more than a veneer, for it will not come off; it is merely compensated by her inner illumination and by the beauty of the bridegroom. As the Shulamite symbolizes the earth in which Adam lay buried, she also has the significance of a maternal progenitrix. In this capacity the black Isis put together again the limbs of

her dismembered brother-spouse, Osiris. Thus Adam Kadmon appears here in the classic form of the son-lover, who, in the hierosgamos of sun and moon, reproduces himself in the mother-beloved. Consequently the Shulamite takes over the ancient role of the hierodule of Ishtar. She is the sacred harlot (meretrix), which is one of the names the alchemist gave his arcane substance.

579. The Shulamite’s reversion to type is not a stroke of genius on the part of our author, but merely the traditional alchemical view that “our infant,” the son of the Philosophers, is the child of sun and moon. But in so far as he represents the hermaphroditic Primordial Man himself, the son is at the same time the father of his parents. Alchemy was so saturated with the idea of the mother-son incest that it automatically reduced the Shulamite of the Song of Songs to her historical prototype.215
580. We have paid due attention to the recalcitrant nature of the Shulamite’s blackness. Now it is significant that the “old Adam” is mentioned at the very moment when the perfect, prelapsarian Adam, the shining Primordial Man, is obviously meant. Just as the black Shulamite misses the final apotheosis, the total albedo, so we lack the necessary confirmation that the first Adam is changed into the second, who at the same time is the father of the first. We cannot suppress the suspicion that, just as the blackness will not disappear, so the old Adam will not finally change. This may be the deeper reason why the expression “the old Adam” did not worry the author but, on the contrary, seemed just right. It is, unfortunately, far truer to say that a change for the better does not bring a total conversion of darkness into light and of evil into good, but, at most, is a compromise in which the better slightly exceeds the worse. The complication introduced by the “old” Adam, therefore, does not seem to be merely fortuitous, since it forms a factor in an archetypal quaternio composed as follows:

or

581. This structure corresponds to the marriage quaternio discussed in the “Psychology of the Transference,”216 which is based on certain psychic facts and has the following structure:

or

582. Although this quaternio plays a considerable role in alchemy, it is not a product of alchemical speculation but an archetype which can be traced back to the primitive marriage-class system (four-kin system). As a quaternity it represents a whole judgment and formulates the psychic structure of man’s totality. This expresses on the one hand the structure of the individual, i.e., a male or female ego in conjunction with the contrasexual unconscious, and on the other hand the ego’s relation to the other sex, without which the psychological individual remains incomplete. (By this I mean primarily a psychic relationship.) But in this schema the idea of transformation, so characteristic of alchemy, is missing. As a scientific discipline, empirical psychology is not in a position to establish whether the conscious ego ranks “higher” or “lower” than the anima, which, like the ego, has a positive and a negative aspect. Science does not make value-judgments, and though psychology has a concept of “value” it is nothing but a concept of “intensity”: one complex of ideas has a higher value when its power of assimilation proves stronger than that of another.217 The alchemical idea of transformation is rooted in a spiritual concept of value which takes the “transformed” as being more valuable, better, higher, more spiritual, etc., and the empirical psychologist has nothing to set against this. But since evaluating and estimating are functions of feeling and nevertheless do play a role in psychology, value must somehow be taken into account. This happens when an assertion or value- judgment is accepted as an intrinsic part of the description of an object.
583. The moral as well as the energic value of the conscious and the unconscious personality is subject to the greatest individual variations. Generally  the  conscious  side  predominates,  though  it  suffers  from

numerous limitations. The schema of the psychological structure, if it is to be compared with the alchemical schema, must therefore be modified by the addition of the idea of transformation. This operation is conceivable in principle, as the process of making the anima and animus conscious does in fact bring about a transformation of personality. Hence it is the psychotherapist who is principally concerned with this problem. The foremost of his therapeutic principles is that conscious realization is an important agent for transforming the personality. The favourable aspect of any such transformation is evaluated as “improvement”—primarily on the basis of the patient’s own statements. The improvement refers in the first place to his psychic health, but there can also be a moral improvement. These statements become increasingly difficult or impossible to verify when the evaluation imperceptibly encroaches upon territory hedged about with philosophical or theoretical prejudices. The whole question of “improvement” is so delicate that it is far easier to settle it by arbitrary decision than by careful deliberation and comparison, which are an affront to all those “terrible simplifiers” who habitually cultivate this particular garden.

584. Although the fact of transformation and improvement cannot be doubted, it is nevertheless very difficult to find a suitable term for it which is not open to misunderstanding and can be fitted into our schema. Medieval man, like our own simplifiers, was naive enough always to know what was “better.” We are not so sure, and besides this we feel to some extent answerable to those who hold a different opinion. We cannot cherish the joyful belief that everybody else is in the wrong. For this reason we shall probably have to give up the idea of expressing in the terminology of our schema the kind of transformation which is bound up with conscious realization and the wholeness (individuation) it brings in its train.
585. For a naive-minded person the imperfect, corrupt old Adam is simply contrasted with the perfect “Primordial Man,” and the dark Eve with an illuminated and altogether nobler being. The modern viewpoint is much more realistic, as it withdraws the archetypal schema, which referred originally to a mythological situation, back from projection, and peoples the stage not with mythical lay-figures but with real human beings and their psyches. The man, or the masculine ego-consciousness, is then

contrasted with an animus, the masculine figure in a woman’s unconscious, who compels her either to overvalue him or to protest against him. The corresponding figure that contrasts with the woman and her feminine ego-consciousness is the anima, the source of all the illusions, over- and under-valuations of which a man makes himself guilty in regard to a woman. There is nothing to indicate in this schema that the man is better than the animus or vice versa, or that the anima is a “higher” being than the woman. Nor does it indicate in which direction the line of development is moving. Only one thing is clear, that when, as a result of a long, technical and moral procedure the patient obtains a knowledge of this structure, based on experience, and accepts the responsibility entailed by this knowledge, there follows an integration or completeness of the individual, who in this way approaches wholeness but not perfection, which is the ideal of certain world philosophies. In the Middle Ages “philosophy” prevailed over fact to such an extent that the base metal lead was credited with the power to turn into gold under certain conditions, and the dark, “psychic” man with the capacity to turn himself into the higher “pneumatic” man. But just as lead, which theoretically could become gold, never did so in practice, so the sober-minded man of our own day looks round in vain for the possibility of final perfection. Therefore, on an objective view of the facts, which alone is worthy of the name of science, he sees himself obliged to lower his pretensions a little, and instead of striving after the ideal of perfection to content himself with the more accessible goal of approximate completeness. The progress thereby made possible does not lead to an exalted state of spiritualization, but rather to a wise self-limitation and modesty, thus balancing the disadvantages of the lesser good with the advantage of the lesser evil.

586. What prevents us from setting up a psychological schema fully corresponding to the alchemical one is ultimately, therefore, the difference between the old and the modern view of the world, between medieval romanticism and scientific objectivity.
587. The more critical view which I have outlined here on the objective basis of scientific psychology is, however, implied in the alchemical schema. For even as the old Adam comes forth again and is present in the schema just as much as Adam Kadmon, so the blackness does not depart from the Shulamite, an indication that the transformation process is not

complete but is still going on. That being so, the old Adam is not yet put off and the Shulamite has not yet become white.

588. In the Cabalistic view Adam Kadmon is not merely the universal soul or, psychologically, the “self,” but is himself the process of transformation, its division into three or four parts (trimeria or tetrameria). The alchemical formula for this is the Axiom of Maria: “One becomes two, two becomes three, and out of the Third comes the One as the Fourth.”218 The treatise of Rabbi Abraham Cohen Irira (Hacohen Herrera) says: “Adam Kadmon proceeded from the Simple and the One, and to that extent he is Unity; but he also descended and fell into his own nature, and to that extent he is Two. And again he will return to the One, which he has in him, and to the Highest; and to that extent he is Three and Four.”219 This speculation refers to the “essential Name,” the Tetragrammaton, which is the four letters of God’s name, “three different, and the fourth a repetition of the second.”220 In the Hebrew word YHVH (written without vowels), he is feminine and is assigned as a wife to yod221 and to vau. As a result yod222 and vau223 are masculine, and the feminine he, though doubled, is identical and therefore a single unit. To that extent the essential Name is a triad. But since he is doubled, the Name is also a tetrad or quaternity224—a perplexity which coincides most strangely with the Axiom of Maria. On the other hand the Tetragrammaton consists of a double marriage and thus agrees in an equally remarkable manner with our Adam diagrams. The doubling of the feminine he is archetypal,225 since the marriage quaternio presupposes both the difference and the identity of the feminine figures. This is true also of the two masculine figures, as we have seen, though here their difference usually predominates—not surprisingly, as these things are mostly products of the masculine imagination. Consequently the masculine figure coincides with man’s consciousness, where differences are practically absolute. Though the feminine figure is doubled it is so little differentiated that it appears identical. This double yet identical figure corresponds exactly to the anima, who, owing to her usually “unconscious” state, bears all the marks of non-differentiation.
589. If we apply these considerations to the alchemical schema, we shall be able to modify it in a way that was not possible with the psychological one. We thus arrive at a formula which reduces both to the same denominator:

590. The critical point, namely the fact that the transformation is not complete, comes out in the text itself; the desired perfection is relegated to the future, “that she who is encompassed by many mountains shall be freed.” For this a divine miracle is needed, the crushing and burning of Canaan, the tearing down of heaven, and the melting of mountains. One can see from these tours de force the magnitude of the difficulties that have to be overcome before perfection is reached.
591. The reference to the mountains which encompass the Shulamite has a strange parallel in Parvati, whose name means “mountain dweller” and who was deemed the daughter of Himavat (Himalaya).226 Grieving over her blackness, for which her husband Shiva reproached her, she left him and withdrew to the solitude of the forest. And in her loneliness and seclusion the Shulamite exclaims:

What shall I say? I am alone among the hidden; nevertheless I rejoice in my heart, because I can live privily, and refresh myself in myself. But under my blackness I have hidden the fairest green.227

592. The state of imperfect transformation, merely hoped for and waited for, does not seem to be one of torment only, but of positive, if hidden, happiness. It is the state of someone who, in his wanderings among the mazes of his psychic transformation, comes upon a secret happiness which reconciles him to his apparent loneliness. In communing with himself he finds not deadly boredom and melancholy but an inner partner; more than that, a relationship that seems like the happiness of a secret love, or like a hidden springtime, when the green seed228 sprouts from the barren earth,

holding out the promise of future harvests. It is the alchemical benedicta viriditas, the blessed greenness, signifying on the one hand the “leprosy of the metals” (verdigris), but on the other the secret immanence of the divine spirit of life in all things. “O blessed greenness, which generatest all things!” cries the author of the Rosarium.229 “Did not the spirit of the Lord,” writes Mylius, “which is a fiery love, give to the waters when it was borne over them a certain fiery vigour, since nothing can be generated without heat? God breathed into created things . . . a certain germination or greenness, by which all things should multiply . . . They called all things green, for to be green means to grow . . . Therefore this virtue of generation and the preservation of things might be called the Soul of the World.”230

593. Green signifies hope and the future, and herein lies the reason for the Shulamite’s hidden joy, which otherwise would be difficult to justify. But in alchemy green also means perfection. Thus Arnaldus de Villanova says: “Therefore Aristotle says in his book, Our gold, not the common gold, because the green which is in this substance signifies its total perfection, since by our magistery that green is quickly turned into truest gold.”231 Hence the Shulamite continues:

But I must be like a dove with wings, and I shall come and be free at vespertime, when the waters of impurity are abated, with a green olive leaf; then is my head of the fairest Asophol,232 and my hair curly- gleaming as the . And Job says (27 : 5),233 that out of my 234 shall come forth blood. For it is all as ,235 shining red Adamah,236 mingled with a glowing . Though I am poisonous, black, and hateful without, yet when I am cleansed I shall be the food of heroes; as out of the lion which Samson slew there afterward came forth honey. Therefore says Job 28 : 7: Semitam non cognovit ille avis, neque aspicit earn oculus vulturis.237 For this stone belongeth only to the proven and elect of God.238

594. It is the hope of the dark Shulamite that one day, at “vespertime,” probably in the evening of life, she will become like Noah’s dove, which, with the olive leaf in its beak, announced the end of the flood and appeared as the sign of God’s reconciliation with the children of men.239 The Song of Songs (2 : 14) says: “0 my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice . . .” In our text her head will be of gold, like the sun, and her hair

like the moon. She thus declares herself to be a conjunction of the sun and moon. Indeed, a golden head and “bushy” hair are attributes of the Beloved.240 She is, in fact, mingled with the Beloved, from which it is evident that the perfect state melts sponsus and sponsa into one figure, the sun-and-moon child.241 The black Shulamite, well matched by her “bushy locks, black as a raven,” becomes the moon, which in this way acquires its “curly-gleaming” hair.242

7. ROTUNDUM, HEAD, AND BRAIN

595. Although the above passage from the Song of Songs is chiefly responsible for the “golden head,” it should be emphasized that this motif also occurs in alchemy without direct reference to the Song of Songs. “His head was of fine gold,” says the “Splendor solis” of the dismembered man whose body was “white like salt.”243 In Greek alchemy the adepts were called “children of the golden head.”244 The “simple” (i.e., arcane) substance was called the “Golden Head, after the god-sent Daniel, God’s mouthpiece.”245 According to legend, Pope Sylvester II (d. 1003), famed as the transmitter of Arabian science, possessed a golden head that imparted oracles.246 This legend may perhaps date back to the Harranite ceremony of the oracular head.247 The head has also the subsidiary meaning of the corpus rotundum, signifying the arcane substance.248 This is particularly relevant to our text, as the “inwards” of the head turned to gold and/or white earth. The latter is the terra alba foliata (foliated white earth), which in this case would be the brain. This conjecture is corroborated by the fact that the “inwards of the head” is, as it were, a literal translation of  (marrow in the head). Besides this the brain is a synonym for the arcane substance, as is clear from a Hermes quotation in the Rosarium: “Take his brain, powder it with very strong vinegar . . . until it turns dark.”249 The brain was of interest to the alchemists because it was the seat of the “spirit of the supracelestial waters,”250 the waters that are above the firmament (Genesis 1 : 7). In the “Visio Arislei” the brain of the King of the Sea is the birthplace of the brother-sister pair.251 The “Liber quartorum” calls the brain the “abode of the divine part.”252 For the brain has a “proximity to the rational soul,” which in turn possesses “simplicitas,” a feature it shares with God.253 Because the brain seemed

secretly to participate in the alchemical process,254 Wei Po-yang states that “when the brain is properly tended for the required length of time, one will certainly attain the miracle.”255 References to the brain are also found in Greek alchemy, an especially large role being played by the  (brain-stone), which was equated with the        (stone that is no stone).256 The latter is one of the terms Zosimos uses for the brain; he also calls it “not given and given by God,” and the “Mithraic secret.”257 The treatise on the “Stone of Philosophy” says that “alabaster is whitest brain stone.”258 In the Table of Symbols in Penotus the brain is correlated with the moon, the mystery of baptism, and the “infernal gods.”259 The new moon signifies the albedo and the white stone;260 baptism has its parallel in the children of the King of the Sea, who were imprisoned in the glass- house at the bottom of the sea and transformed;261 the infernal gods can be correlated with the brain as the seat of consciousness and intelligence, for consciousness leads an “ungodly” existence, having fallen away from the divine totality.262

596. Zosimos is the connecting link between alchemy and Gnosticism, where we find similar ideas. There the brain (or cerebellum) “is in shape like the head of a dragon.”263 The wicked Korybas, having affinities on the one hand with Adam and on the other with the Kyllenic Hermes,264 comes “from the head on high and from the uncharacterized brain,”265 and penetrates all things; “we know not how and in what fashion he comes.” Here Hippolytus paraphrases John 5 : 37: “We have heard his voice, but we have not seen his shape,” an allusion to a partially unconscious factor. To emphasize this aspect, Hippolytus goes on to say that Korybas dwells in the “image of clay” (), i.e., in man.266 “This,” he continues, “is the God who dwells in the flood, of whom the Psalter says that he calls aloud and cries out from many waters.”267 We can take this as the longing of the unconscious for consciousness. When one considers that this passage dates from an age (ca. 2nd cent.) that had not the remotest conception of psychology in the modern sense, one must admit that Hippolytus, with the scanty means at his disposal, has managed to give a fairly decent account of the psychological facts. The Adam of whom the Naassenes speak is a “rock.”

This, they say, is Adamas, the chief corner-stone [], who has become the head [] of the corner. For in the head is the

characterized [] brain, the substance from which the whole family is named [], the “Adam whom I place in the foundations of Zion.”268 Allegorically, they mean the image [] of Man. But he who is so placed is Adam [the inner man, the foundation of Zion] . . . who has fallen from Adam the archman [] on high.269

597. These extracts are sufficient to show how original are the bases of alchemical ideas. If no continuity of tradition can be proven, we would be forced to assume that the same ideas can arise spontaneously, again and again, from an archetypal foundation.

8. ADAM AS TOTALITY

598. Now that we have seen the significance of the brain and the moon- earth as the arcane substance, we can take up our commentary on Eleazar’s text.
599. An alchemical recipe says: “Sow the gold in foliated white earth.”270 Thus the gold (sun) and the white earth, or moon271 are united. In Christianity, as in alchemy, earth and moon are closely related, conjoined by the figure of the divine mother. The sun-moon conjunction takes place in the head, an indication of the psychic nature of this event.272 As I said, the concept of the “psychic,” as we understand it today, did not exist in the Middle Ages, and even the educated modern man finds it difficult to understand what is meant by “reality of the psyche.” So it is not surprising that it was incomparably more difficult for medieval man to imagine something between “esse in re” and “esse in intellectu solo.”273 The way out lay in “metaphysics.”274 The alchemist was therefore compelled to formulate his quasichemical facts metaphysically too.275 Thus the white earth corresponds to the earth that signified “mankind, is exalted above all the circles of the World, and placed in the intellectual heaven of the most holy Trinity.”276 (Where, we may add, it is obviously added to the Trinity as the “Fourth,” thereby making it a totality.)277 This cheerful piece of heterodoxy remained unconscious and its consequences never appeared on the surface.
600. The conclusion which Eleazar draws requires elucidation. It is in itself

remarkable that he should paraphrase, in connection with the perfect state, i.e., the coniunctio Solis et Lunae, just that passage in Job (supra, par. 624) and say: “Out of my earth shall come forth blood.” This is feasible only if the coniunctio symbolizes the production of the hermaphroditic second Adam, namely Christ and the corpus mysticum of the Church. In the ecclesiastical rite the equivalent of the coniunctio is the mixing of substances, or the Communion in both kinds. The passage from Job must therefore be interpreted as though Christ were speaking: “From my earth, my body, will come forth blood.” In the Greek Orthodox rite the loaf of bread stands for Christ’s body. The priest pierces it with a small silver lance, to represent by analogy the wound in his side from which blood and grace flow, and perhaps also the slaying of the victim (mactatio Christi).

601. The alchemical earth, as we saw, is the arcane substance, here equated with the body of Christ and with adamah, the red earth of paradise. From adamah is traditionally derived the name Adam, so that here again the paradisal earth is connected with the corpus mysticum. (This specifically Christian idea comports ill with the alleged Jewish authorship.) Nevertheless, it is strange that, as Eleazar says, this earth is “mingled with fire.” This recalls the alchemical idea of the “ignis gehennalis,” the “central fire”278 by whose warmth all nature germinates and grows, because in it dwells the Mercurial serpent, the salamander whom the fire does not consume, and the dragon that feeds on the fire.279 Though this fire is a portion of the fire of God’s spirit (Boehme’s “divine wrath-fire”), it is also Lucifer, the most beautiful of God’s angels, who after his fall became the fire of hell itself. Eleazar says: “This-old Father-Begetter280 will one day be drawn from the primordial Chaos,281 and he is the fire-spewing dragon.” The dragon floating in the air is the universal “Phyton,282 the beginning of all things.”283
602. Another source for the fire mingled with earth might be the image of the Son of Man in Revelation 1 : 14f.:

His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were as a flame of fire, and his feet like unto fine brass,284 as if they burned in a furnace, and his voice as the sound of many waters. And he had in his right hand seven stars, and out of his mouth went a sharp two- edged sword, and his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength.

Here again the head is compared to the sun, combined with the

whiteness of the full moon. But the feet stand in the fire and glow like molten metal. We find the lower fire in Job 28 : 5: “Terra igne subversa est” (DV: “the earth hath been overturned with fire”). But “out of it cometh bread”—an image of the union of supreme opposites! In the Apocalyptic image we would hardly recognize the Son of Man, who is the true incarnation of God’s love. But actually this image comes nearer to the paradoxes of the alchemists than does the Christ of the gospels, whose inner polarity was reduced to vanishing-point after the “Get thee behind me, Satan” incident. In the Apocalypse it becomes visible again, and even more so in the symbolism of alchemy.285

603. Our conjecture that Eleazar had in mind the Apocalyptic figure of the Son of Man is confirmed to the extent that there is an illustration of the “fils de l’homme ” (= Mercurius) in a French manuscript (18th cent.),286 bearing the name “Jezoth le Juste,” who is assigned the significant number

4 × 4 in the form of sixteen points (Pl. 3).287 This refers to the four cherubim in the vision of Ezekiel, each of which had four faces (Ezek. 1: 10, 10: 14). In unorthodox fashion he is dressed like a woman, as is often the case with the hermaphroditic Mercurius in alchemical illustrations of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Models for this figure are the visions of St. John the Divine (Rev. 1 and 4) and of Daniel (7 : 9ff.). “Jezoth” (= Yesod) is the ninth and middle Sefira in the lowest triad of the Cabalistic tree, and was interpreted as the creative and procreative power in the universe. Alchemically he corresponds to the spiritus vegetativus, Mercurius.288 Just as Mercurius has a phallic aspect in alchemy, being related to Hermes Kyllenios,289 so in the Zohar has Yesod; indeed the “Zaddik” or “Just One,” as Yesod is also called, is the organ of generation.290 He is the “spout of the waters” (effusorium aquarum),291 or the “tube” (fistula) and “waterpipe” (canalis),292 and the “spring of bubbling water” (scaturigo).293 Such comparisons mislead the modern mind into one- sided interpretations, for instance that Yesod is simply the penis, or, conversely, that the obviously sexual language has no basis in real sexuality. But in mysticism one must remember that no “symbolic” object has only one meaning; it is always several things at once. Sexuality does not exclude spirituality nor spirituality sexuality, for in God all opposites are abolished. One has only to think of the unio mystica of Simeon ben Yochai in Zohar III, which Scholem (see n. 290) barely mentions.

604. Yesod has many meanings, which in the manuscript are related to Mercurius. In alchemy Mercurius is the “ligament” of the soul, uniting spirit and body. His dual nature enables him to play the role of mediator; he is bodily and spiritual and is himself the union of these two principles. Correspondingly, in Yesod is accomplished the mystery of the “unitio”294 of the upper, Tifereth, and the lower, Malchuth. He is also called the “covenant of peace.”295 Similar designations are “bread,” “chief of the Faces”296 (i.e., of the upper and lower), the “apex” which touches earth and heaven,297 “propinquus” (the Near One), since he is nearer to the Glory (Shekinah), i.e., Malchuth, than to Tifereth,298 and the “Strong One of Israel.”299 Yesod unites the emanation of the right, masculine side (Nezach, life-force) with the left, feminine side (Hod, beauty).300 He is called “firm, reliable, constant”301 because he leads the emanation of Tifereth down into Malchuth.302
605. Mercurius is often symbolized as a tree, and Yesod as frutex (tree- trunk) and virgultum (thicket).303 Mercurius is the spiritus vegetativus, spirit of life and growth, and Yesod is described as “vivus,” living,304 or “living for aeons.”305 Just as Mercurius is the prima materia and the basis of the whole process, so Yesod means “foundation.”306 “In natural things Yesod contains in himself quicksilver, for this is the basis of the whole art of transmutation”;307 not, of course, ordinary quicksilver, but “that which not without mystery is called a star.” From this star flow “the waters of the good God El, or quicksilver. . . . This quicksilver . . . is called the Spherical Water,” or “the water of baptism.”308

This water is called the daughter of Matred, that is . . . of a man who labours unweariedly at making gold. For this water flows not out of the earth, nor is it dug out of mines, but is brought forth and perfected with great labour and much diligence. His wife is called the Water of gold, or such kind of water as gives rise to gold. And if this workman is espoused with her, he will engender a daughter, who will be the Water of the king’s bath.309

On the basis of isopsephic310 speculation the water of gold was identified with Yesod. The tablet with sixteen signs for gold or sun  at the feet of the fils de l’homme seems to point to this (PI. 3). The Kabbala denudata reproduces a “Kamea”311 containing not 2 × 8 but 8 × 8 = 64 numbers,312 “which represent the sum of the name of the golden

water.”313

606. As the prima materia is also called lead and Saturn, we should mention that the Sabbath is co-ordinated with Yesod, as is the letter Teth,314 which stands under the influence of Shabtai (Saturn). In the same way that Mercurius, as a volatile substance, is named the bird, goose, chick of Hermes, swan, eagle, vulture, and phoenix, Yesod (as well as Tifereth) is called “pullus avis”315 also “penna, ala” (feather, wing).316 Feathers and wings play a role in alchemy too: the eagle that devours its own feathers or wings,317 and the feathers of the phoenix in Michael Maier.318 The idea of the bird eating its own feathers is a variant of the uroboros, which in turn is connected with Leviathan. Leviathan and the “great dragon” are names for both Yesod and Tifereth.319
607. Yesod is as a part to the whole, and the whole is Tifereth, who is named the sun.320 The feet of the Apocalyptic Son of Man, glowing as if in the fire, may have a connection with Malchuth, since the feet are the organ that touches the earth. The earth, Malchuth, is Yesod’s “footstool.”321 Malchuth is also the “furnace”, “the place destined for the cooking and decoction of the influence sent down to her by her husband for the nourishment of the hosts.”322
608. After this digression, let us turn back once more to Eleazar’s text. The golden head with the silver moon-hair and the body made of red earth mingled with fire are the “inside” of a black, poisonous, ugly figure, which is how the Shulamite now appears. Obviously these negative qualities are to be understood in a moral sense, although chemically they signify the black lead of the initial state. But “inside” is the second Adam, a mystic Christ, as is made clear by the allegory of the lion which Samson slew, and which then became the habitation of a swarm of honey-bees: “Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness.”323 These words were interpreted as referring to the corpus Christi, the Host,324 which Eleazar calls the “food of heroes.” This strange expression and the still stranger conception of the “Christ” present in the Host are an allusion to the alchemical secret. That is why the author can say with Job 28 : 7 that the way is unknown, “neither hath the eye of the vulture beheld it.” It is shrouded in mystery, for “the stone belongeth only to the proven and elect of God.”
609. The lapis also figures in the Cabala: “Sometimes Adonai, the name of the last Sefira, and Malchuth herself, the Kingdom, are so called; for the latter is the foundation of the whole fabric of the world.”325 The stone is, indeed, of supreme importance, because it fulfils the function of Adam Kadmon as the “capital-stone, from which all the upper and lower hosts in the work of creation are brought into being.”326 It is called the “sapphirestone, because it takes on divers colours from the highest powers, and works in created things now in one wise, now in the contrary, administering at times good, at others evil, now life, now death, now sickness, now healing, now poverty, now riches.”327 The stone appears here as the power of fate; indeed, as the reference to Deuteronomy 32 : 39 shows, it is God himself.328 Knorr von Rosenroth was himself an alchemist, and his words here are written with deliberate intent.329 He emphasizes that the stone is the one “which the builders rejected and is become the head of the corner.”330 It occupies a middle position in the Sefiroth system since it unites in itself the powers of the upper world and distributes them to the lower.331 According to its position, therefore, it would correspond to Tifereth.332
610. I have found no evidence in the alchemical literature that the sapphire was an arcanum before the time of Paracelsus. It seems as though this author introduced it into alchemy from the Cabala as a synonym for the arcane substance:

For the virtue which lies in the sapphire is given from heaven by way of solution, coagulation, and fixation. Now, since heaven is created so as to work through these three things until it has achieved this [viz., the production of the sapphire and its virtues], so must the breaking up of the sapphire correspond to the same three procedures. This breaking up is such that the bodies vanish, and the arcanum remains. For before the sapphire existed, there was no arcanum. But subsequently, just as life was given to man, the arcanum was given to this material by heaven.333

We can recognize here relationships with Cabalistic ideas. Paracelsus’s pupil, Adam von Bodenstein, says in his Onomasticon: “The sapphire material: that liquid in which there is no harmful matter.”334 Dorn335 relates the “sapphirine flower” to the “Arcanum Cheyri” of Paracelsus.336 The “Epistola ad Hermannum” cites a certain G. Ph. Rodochaeus de Geleinen Husio:337”Then arises the sapphirine flower

of the hermaphrodite, the wondrous mystery of the Macrocosm, of which one part, if it be poured into a thousand parts of the melted Ophirizum, converts it all into its own nature.”338 This passage is influenced by Paracelsus.

611. The Lapis Sapphireus or Sapphirinus is derived from Ezekiel 1 : 22 and 26, where the firmament above the “living creature” was like a “terrible crystal” and a “sapphire stone” (also 10 : 1), and from Exodus 24

: 10: “And they saw the God of Israel: and under his feet as it were a work of sapphire stone, and as the heaven, when clear” (DV). In alchemy “our gold” is “crystalline”;339 the treasure of the Philosophers is “a certain glassy heaven, like crystal, and ductile like gold”;340 the tincture of gold is “transparent as crystal, fragile as glass.”341 The “Book of the Cave of Treasures” says that Adam’s body “shone like the light of a crystal.”342 The crystal, “which appears equally pure within and without,” refers in ecclesiastical language to the “unimpaired purity” of the Virgin.343 The throne in Ezekiel’s vision, says Gregory the Great, is rightly likened to the sapphire, “for this stone has the colour of air.”344 He compares Christ to the crystal in a way that served as a model for the language and ideas of the alchemists.345

612. The combination of water and crystal is found also in the Cabalistic “Sifra de Zeniutha.” § 178 of Luria’s commentary says: “The second form is called crystalline dew, and this is formed of the Severity of the Kingdom346 of the first Adam, which entered into the Wisdom of Macroprosopus:347 hence in the crystal there appears a distinct red colour. And this [form] is the Wisdom whereof they said, that Judgments are rooted in it.”348 Although alchemy was undoubtedly influenced by such comparisons, the stone cannot be traced back to Christ, despite all the analogies.349 It was the mystical property of alchemy, this “stone that is no stone,” or the “stone that hath a spirit” and is found in the “streamings of the Nile.”350 It is a symbol that cannot be explained away as yet another supererogatory attempt to obscure the Christian mystery. On the contrary, it appears as a new and singular product which in early times gradually crystallized out through the assimilation of Christian ideas into Gnostic material; later, clear attempts were made in turn to assimilate the alchemical ideas to the Christian, though, as Eleazar’s text shows, there was an unbridgeable difference between them. The reason for this is that

the symbol of the stone, despite the analogy with Christ, contains an element that cannot be reconciled with the purely spiritual assumptions of Christianity. The very concept of the “stone” indicates the peculiar nature of this symbol. “Stone” is the essence of everything solid and earthly. It represents feminine matter, and this concept intrudes into the sphere of “spirit” and its symbolism. The Church’s hermeneutic allegories of the cornerstone and the “stone cut out of a mountain without hands,”351 which were interpreted as Christ, were not the source of the lapis symbol, but were used by the alchemists in order to justify it, for the        was not of Christian origin. The stone was more than an “incarnation” of God, it was a concretization, a “materialization” that reached down into the darkness of the inorganic realm or even arose from it, from that part of the Deity which put itself in opposition to the Creator because, as the Basilidians say, it remained latent in the panspermia (universal seed-bed) as the formative principle of crystals, metals, and living organisms. The inorganic realm included regions, like that of hell-fire, which were the dominion of the devil. The three-headed Mercurial serpent was, indeed, a triunity in matter352—the “lower triad”353—complementing the divine Trinity.

613. We may therefore suppose that in alchemy an attempt was made at a symbolical integration of evil by localizing the divine drama of redemption in man himself. This process appears now as an extension of redemption beyond man to matter, now as an ascent of the , ‘spirit of imitation,’ or Lucifer, and as a reconciliation of this with the spirit descending from above, both the Above and Below undergoing a process of mutual transformation. It seems to me that Eleazar’s text conveys some idea of this, as the transformation of the black Shulamite takes place in three stages, which were mentioned by Dionysius the Areopagite as characterizing the mystical ascent: emundatio , ‘purification’), illuminatio (), perfectio ().354        Dionysius refers the purification to Psalm 51 : 7 (AV): “Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow”; and the illumination to Psalm 13 : 3 (AV): “Lighten mine eyes.” (The two heavenly luminaries, sun and moon, correspond on the old view to the two eyes.) The perfection he refers to Matthew 5 : 48: “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” Here we have one aspect of the approximation to divinity; the other aspect is exemplified by the image of the Apocalyptic Son of Man, described

earlier.

614. The transformation of the Shulamite as described in the text can thus be conceived as the preliminary stage of an individuation process, rising unexpectedly out of the unconscious in symbolical form, and comparable to a dream that seeks to outline this process and for that purpose makes use now of religious and now of “scientific” images. So regarded and looked at from a psychological angle, the following facts emerge.
615. The nigredo corresponds to the darkness of the unconscious, which contains in the first place the inferior personality, the shadow. This changes into the feminine figure that stands immediately behind it, as it were, and controls it: the anima, whose typical representative the Shulamite is. “I am black, but comely”—not “hateful,” as Eleazar would have us believe, after having reconsidered the matter. For since nature was deformed by the sin of Adam, her blackness must in his view be regarded as ugliness, as the blackness of sin, as the Saturnine initial state, heavy and black as lead. But the Shulamite, the priestess of Ishtar, signifies earth, nature, fertility, everything that flourishes under the damp light of the moon, and also the natural life-urge. The anima is indeed the archetype of life itself, which is beyond all meaning and all moral categories. What at first struck us as incomprehensible, namely that the old Adam should come forth from her again, thus reversing the sequence of Creation, can now be understood, for if anyone knows how to live the natural life it is the old Adam. Here he is not so much the old Adam as an Adam reborn from a daughter of Eve, an Adam restored to his pristine naturalness. The fact that she gives rebirth to Adam and that a black Shulamite produces the original man in his savage, unredeemed state rules out the suspicion that the “old” Adam is a slip of the pen or a misprint. There is a method in it, which allows us to guess what it was that induced the author to adopt a Jewish pseudonym. For the Jew was the handiest example, living under everyone’s eyes, of a non-Christian, and therefore a vessel for all those things a Christian could not or did not like to remember. So it was really very natural to put those dark, half-conscious thoughts which began with the Movement of the Free Spirit, the late Christian religion of the Holy Ghost, and which formed the life-blood of the Renaissance, into the mouth of an allegedly Jewish author. Just as the era of the Old Testament prophets began with Hosea, who was commanded by God to marry

another Shulamite, so the cours d’amour of René d’Anjou, the minnesingers and saints with their passionate love of God, were contemporaneous with the Brethren of the Free Spirit. Eleazar’s text is nothing but a late echo of these centuries-old events which changed the face of Christianity. But in any such echo there is also a premonition of future developments: in the very same century the author of Faust, that momentous opus, was born.

616. The Shulamite remains unchanged, as did the old Adam. And yet Adam Kadmon is born, a non-Christian second Adam, just at the moment when the transformation is expected. This extraordinary contradiction seems insoluble at first sight. But it becomes understandable when we consider that the illumination or solificatio of the Shulamite is not the first transformation but the second, and takes place within. The subject of transformation is not the empirical man, however much he may identify with the “old Adam,” but Adam the Primordial Man, the archetype within us. The black Shulamite herself represents the first transformation: it is the coming to consciousness of the black anima, the Primordial Man’s feminine aspect. The second, or solificatio, is the conscious differentiation of the masculine aspect—a far more difficult task. Every man feels identical with this, though in reality he is not. There is too much blackness in the archetype for him to put it all down to his own account, and so many good and positive things that he cannot resist the temptation to identify with them. It is therefore much easier to see the blackness in projected form: “The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat” holds true even of the most enlightened psychology. But the masculine aspect is as unfathomable as the feminine aspect. It would certainly not be fitting for the empirical man, no matter how swollen his ego-feelings, to appropriate the whole range of Adam’s heights and depths. Human being though he is, he has no cause to attribute to himself all the nobility and beauty a man can attain to, just as he would assuredly refuse to accept the guilt for the abjectness and baseness that make man lower than an animal—unless, of course, he were driven by insanity to act out the role of the archetype.
617. But although, when the masculine aspect of the Primordial Man “comes forth again,” it is the old Adam, who is black like the Shulamite, it is nevertheless the second Adam, i.e., the still older Adam before the Fall,

Adam Kadmon. The ambiguity of this passage is too perfect for the author, who proves himself elsewhere to be a not particularly skilful forger, to have been conscious of it. The coming to consciousness of Adam Kadmon would indeed be a great illumination, for it would be a realization of the inner man or Anthropos, an archetypal totality transcending the sexes. In so far as this Man is divine, we could speak of a theophany. The Shulamite’s hope of becoming a “white dove” points to a future, perfect state. The white dove is a hint that the Shulamite will become Sophia,355 the Holy Ghost, while Adam Kadmon is an obvious parallel of Christ.

618. If the alchemical process of thought corresponded only to the three stages of purification, illumination, perfection, it would be difficult to see the justification for paraphrasing the analogous Christian ideas, which are so patently betrayed, for instance, in the fixing to the “black cross.” But the need for a symbolism other than the Christian one is evident from the fact that the transformation process does not culminate in the second Adam and the white dove but in the lapis, which, with God’s help, is made by the empirical man. It is a half physical, half metaphysical product, a psychological symbol expressing something created by man and yet supra- ordinate to him. This paradox can only be something like the symbol of the self, which likewise can be brought forth, i.e., made conscious, by human effort but is at the same time by definition a pre-existent totality that includes the conscious and the unconscious.
619. This is a thought that goes beyond the Christian world of ideas and involves a mystery consummated in and through man. It is as though the drama of Christ’s life were, from now on, located in man as its living carrier. As a result of this shift, the events formulated in dogma are brought within range of psychological experience and become recognizable in the process of individuation.
620. It is naturally not the task of an empirical science to evaluate such spiritual developments from the standpoint of transcendental truth. It must content itself with establishing the existence of these processes and comparing them with parallel observations in modern man. It also has the right to attempt to map out the logical structure of such psychologems. The fact that it must push forward into regions where belief and doubt argue the question of truth does not prove that it has any intention of intervening or presuming to decide what the truth is. Its “truth” consists solely in

establishing the facts and in explaining them without prejudice within the framework of empirical psychology. Under no circumstances is it entitled to say whether the facts are valid or not, or to try to ascertain their moral or religious value. I must emphasize this so emphatically because my method is constantly suspected of being theology or metaphysics in disguise. The difficulty for my critics seems to be that they are unable to accept the concept of psychic reality. A psychic process is something that really exists, and a psychic content is as real as a plant or an animal. In spite of the fact that the duckbilled platypus, for example, cannot be logically derived from the general premises of zoology, it nevertheless indubitably exists, improbable as this may appear to prejudiced minds. It is not a fantasy and not just somebody’s opinion but an immovable fact. It is perfectly true that one can play metaphysics with psychic facts, and particularly with ideas that have always been counted as metaphysical. But the ideas themselves are not metaphysical; they are empirically verifiable phenomena that are the proper subject of the scientific method.

621. With the statements of the Cabala, which as we have seen found their way into alchemy, our interpretation of Adam attains a scope and a depth that can hardly be surpassed. This interpretation includes Eve as the feminine principle itself. She appears chiefly as the “lower,” as Malchuth (kingdom), Shekinah (the Indwelling of God), or as Atarah (Crown), the equivalent below of Kether, the upper crown. She is also present in the “hermaphroditic” Sefiroth system, the right half of which is masculine and the left half feminine. Hence Adam Kadmon, as a personification of the whole “inverted tree,” is androgynous, but the system itself is a highly differentiated coniunctio symbol, and, as such, divided into three parts (three columns of three Sefiroth each). According to Hippolytus, the Naassenes divided the hermaphroditic Adam into three parts, just as they did Geryon.356 Geryon was triple-bodied357 and the possessor of the splendid cattle on the island of Erythia. Heracles slew him with an arrow, on which occasion Hera was wounded in the breast. On the same journey Heracles had threatened to shoot the sun because his rays were too hot. So the slaying of Geryon was the last in a series of three sacrileges.

For they say of this Geryon [continues Hippolytus] that one part is spiritual, one psychic, and one earthly; and they hold that the knowledge of him is the beginning of the capacity to know God, for they say: “The

beginning of wholeness is the knowledge of man, but the knowledge of God is perfect wholeness.” All this, they say, the spiritual, the psychic, and the earthly, set itself in motion and came down together into one man, Jesus who was born of Mary; and there spoke through it [the spiritual, the psychic, and the earthly] these three men [i.e., the triple- bodied Geryon], each from his own substance to his own. For of all things there are three kinds, the angelic, the psychic, and the earthly; and three Churches, angelic, psychic, and earthly; and their names are the Chosen, the Called, and the Captive.358

622. This conception bears a striking resemblance to the Sefiroth system.359 In particular, Geryon corresponds to the cosmogonic Adam Kadmon. He is the “masculo-feminine Man in all things, [whom] the Greeks call the heavenly horn of the moon.360 For they say all things were made by him, and without him was not any thing made.361 That which was made in him is Life. This, they say, is Life—the unutterable generation [] of perfect men, which to earlier generations was unknown.”362

VI

THE CONJUNCTION

2. THE ALCHEMICAL VIEW OF THE UNION OF OPPOSITES

623. Herbert Silberer rightly called the coniunctio the “central idea” of the alchemical procedure.1 This author correctly recognized that alchemy was, in the main, symbolical, whereas the historian of alchemy, Eduard von Lippmann, a chemist, did not mention the term “coniunctio” even in his index.2 Anyone who has but a slight acquaintance with the literature knows that the adepts were ultimately concerned with a union of the substances— by whatever names these may have been called. By means of this union they hoped to attain the goal of the work: the production of the gold or a symbolical equivalent of it. Although the coniunctio is unquestionably the primordial image of what we today would call chemical combination, it is hardly possible to prove beyond a doubt that the adept thought as concretely as the modern chemist. Even when he spoke of a union of the “natures,” or of an “amalgam” of iron and copper, or of a compound of sulphur and mercury, he meant it at the same time as a symbol: iron was Mars and copper was Venus, and their fusion was at the same time a love- affair. The union of the “natures” which “embrace one another” was not physical and concrete, for they were “celestial natures” which multiplied “by the command of God.”3 When “red lead” was roasted with gold it produced a “spirit,” that is, the compound became “spiritual,”4 and from the “red spirit” proceeded the “principle of the world.”5 The combination of sulphur and mercury was followed by the “bath” and “death.”6 By the combination of copper and the aqua permanens, which was usually quicksilver, we think only of an amalgam. But for the alchemists it meant a secret, “philosophical” sea, since for them the aqua permanens was primarily a symbol or a philosophical postulate which they hoped to discover—or believed they had discovered—in the various “fluids.” The substances they sought to combine in reality always had—on account of

their unknown nature—a numinous quality which tended towards phantasmal personification. They were substances which, like living organisms, “fertilized one another and thereby produced the living being [

] sought by the Philosophers.”7 The substances seemed to them hermaphroditic, and the conjunction they strove for was a philosophical operation, namely the union of form and matter.8 This inherent duality explains the duplications that so often occur, e.g., two sulphurs, two quicksilvers,9 Venus alba et rubea,10 aurum nostrum and aurum vulgi.

624. It is therefore not surprising that the adepts, as we have seen in the previous chapters, piled up vast numbers of synonyms to express the mysterious nature of the substances—an occupation which, though it must seem utterly futile to the chemist, affords the psychologist a welcome explanation concerning the nature of the projected contents. Like all numinous contents, they have a tendency to self-amplification, that is to say they form the nuclei for an aggregation of synonyms. These synonyms represent the elements to be united as a pair of opposites;11 for instance as man and woman, god and goddess, son and mother,12 red and white,13 active and passive, body and spirit,14 and so on. The opposites are usually derived from the quaternio of elements,15 as we can see very clearly from the anonymous treatise “De sulphure,” which says:

Thus the fire began to work upon the air and brought forth Sulphur. Then the air began to work upon the water and brought forth Mercurius. The water began to work upon the earth and brought forth Salt. But the earth, having nothing to work upon, brought forth nothing, so the product remained within it. Therefore only three principles were produced, and the earth became the nurse and matrix of the others.

From these three principles were produced male and female, the male obviously from Sulphur and Mercurius, and the female from Mercurius and Salt.16 Together they bring forth the “incorruptible One,” the quinta essentia, “and thus quadrangle will answer to quadrangle.17”

625. The synthesis of the incorruptible One or quintessence follows the Axiom of Maria, the earth representing the “fourth.” The separation of the hostile elements corresponds to the initial state of chaos and darkness. From the successive unions arise an active principle (sulphur) and a passive (salt), as well as a mediating, ambivalent principle, Mercurius. This classical alchemical trinity then produces the relationship of male to

female as the supreme and essential opposition. Fire comes at the beginning and is acted on by nothing, and earth at the end acts on nothing. Between fire and earth there is no interaction; hence the four elements do not constitute a circle, i.e., a totality. This is produced only by the synthesis of male and female. Thus the square at the beginning corresponds to the quaternio of elements united in the quinta essentia at the end—“quadrangle will answer to quadrangle.”

626. The alchemical description of the beginning corresponds psychologically to a primitive consciousness which is constantly liable to break up into individual affective processes—to fall apart, as it were, in four directions. As the four elements represent the whole physical world, their falling apart means dissolution into the constituents of the world, that is, into a purely inorganic and hence unconscious state. Conversely, the combination of the elements and the final synthesis of male and female is an achievement of the art and a product of conscious endeavour. The result of the synthesis was consequently conceived by the adept as self- knowledge,18 which, like the knowledge of God, is needed for the preparation of the Philosophers’ Stone.19 Piety is needed for the work, and this is nothing but knowledge of oneself.20 This thought occurs not only in late alchemy but also in Greek tradition, as in the Alexandrian treatise of Krates (transmitted by the Arabs), where it is said that a perfect knowledge of the soul enables the adept to understand the many different names which the Philosophers have given to the arcane substance.21 The “Liber quartorum” emphasizes that there must be self-observation in the work as well as of events in due time.22 It is evident from this that the chemical process of the coniunctio was at the same time a psychic synthesis. Sometimes it seems as if self-knowledge brought about the union, sometimes as if the chemical process were the efficient cause. The latter alternative is decidedly the more frequent: the coniunctio takes place in the retort23 or, more indefinitely, in the “natural vessel” or matrix.24 The vessel is also called the grave, and the union a “shared death.”25 This state is named the “eclipse of the sun.”26
627. The coniunctio does not always take the form of a direct union, since it needs—or occurs in—a medium: “Only through a medium can the transition take place,”27 and, “Mercurius is the medium of conjunction.”28 Mercurius is the soul (anima), which is the “mediator between body and

spirit.”29 The same is true of the synonyms for Mercurius, the green lion30 and the aqua permanens or spiritual water,31 which are likewise media of conjunction. The “Consilium coniugii” mentions as a connective agent the sweet smell or “smoky vapour,”32 recalling Basilides’ idea of the sweet smell of the Holy Ghost.33 Obviously this refers to the “spiritual” nature of Mercurius, just as the spiritual water, also called aqua aëris (aerial water or air-water), is a life principle and the “marriage maker” between man and woman.34 A common synonym for the water is the “sea,” as the place where the chymical marriage is celebrated. The “Tractatus Micreris” mentions as further synonyms the “Nile of Egypt,” the “Sea of the Indians,” and the “Meridian Sea.” The “marvels” of this sea are that it mitigates and unites the opposites.35 An essential feature of the royal marriage is therefore the sea-journey, as described by Christian Rosencreutz.36 This alchemical motif was taken up by Goethe in Faust II, where it underlies the meaning of the Aegean Festival. The archetypal content of this festival has been elaborated by Kerényi in a brilliant amplificatory interpretation. The bands of nereids on Roman sarcophagi reveal the “epithalamic and the sepulchral element,” for “basic to the antique mysteries . . . is the identity of marriage and death on the one hand, and of birth and the eternal resurgence of life from death on the other.”37

628. Mercurius, however, is not just the medium of conjunction but also that which is to be united, since he is the essence or “seminal matter” of both man and woman. Mercurius masculinus and Mercurius foemineus are united in and through Mercurius menstrualis, which is the “aqua.”38 Dorn gives the “philosophical” explanation of this in his “Physica Trismegisti”: In the beginning God created one world (unus mundus).39 This he divided into two—heaven and earth. “Beneath this spiritual and corporeal binarius lieth hid a third thing, which is the bond of holy matrimony. This same is the medium enduring until now in all things, partaking of both their extremes, without which it cannot be at all, nor they without this medium be what they are, one thing out of three.”40 The division into two was necessary in order to bring the “one” world out of the state of potentiality into reality. Reality consists of a multiplicity of things. But one is not a number; the first number is two, and with it multiplicity and reality begin.
629. It is apparent from this explanation that the desperately evasive and universal Mercurius—that Proteus twinkling in a myriad shapes and

colours—is none other than the “unus mundus,” the original, non- differentiated unity of the world or of Being; the  of the Gnostics, the primordial unconsciousness.41 The Mercurius of the alchemists is a personification and concretization of what we today would call the collective unconscious. While the concept of the unus mundus is a metaphysical speculation, the unconscious can be indirectly experienced via its manifestations. Though in itself an hypothesis, it has at least as great a probability as the hypothesis of the atom. It is clear from the empirical material at our disposal today that the contents of the unconscious, unlike conscious contents, are mutually contaminated to such a degree that they cannot be distinguished from one another and can therefore easily take one another’s place, as can be seen most clearly in dreams. The indistinguish ableness of its contents gives one the impression that everything is connected with everything else and therefore, despite their multifarious modes of manifestation, that they are at bottom a unity. The only comparatively clear contents consist of motifs or types round which the individual associations congregate. As the history of the human mind shows, these archetypes are of great stability and so distinct that they allow themselves to be personified and named, even though their boundaries are blurred or cut across those of other archetypes, so that certain of their qualities can be interchanged. In particular, mandala symbolism shows a marked tendency to concentrate all the archetypes on a common centre, comparable to the relationship of all conscious contents to the ego. The analogy is so striking that a layman unfamiliar with this symbolism is easily misled into thinking that the mandala is an artificial product of the conscious mind. Naturally mandalas can be imitated, but this does not prove that all mandalas are imitations. They are produced spontaneously, without external influence, even by children and adults who have never come into contact with any such ideas.42 One might perhaps regard the mandala as a reflection of the egocentric nature of consciousness, though this view would be justified only if it could be proved that the unconscious is a secondary phenomenon. But the unconscious is undoubtedly older and more original than consciousness, and for this reason one could just as well call the egocentrism of consciousness a reflection or imitation of the “self”-centrism of the unconscious.

630. The mandala symbolizes, by its central point, the ultimate unity of all archetypes as well as of the multiplicity of the phenomenal world, and is

therefore the empirical equivalent of the metaphysical concept of a unus mundus. The alchemical equivalent is the lapis and its synonyms, in particular the Microcosm.43

631. Dorn’s explanation is illuminating in that it affords us a deep insight into the alchemical mysterium coniunctionis. If this is nothing less than a restoration of the original state of the cosmos and the divine unconsciousness of the world, we can understand the extraordinary fascination emanating from this mystery. It is the Western equivalent of the fundamental principle of classical Chinese philosophy, namely the union of yang and yin in tao, and at the same time a premonition of that “tertium quid” which, on the basis of psychological experience on the one hand and of Rhine’s experiments on the other, I have called “synchronicity.”44 If mandala symbolism is the psychological equivalent of the unus mundus, then synchronicity is its para-psychological equivalent. Though synchronistic phenomena occur in time and space they manifest a remarkable independence of both these indispensable determinants of physical existence and hence do not conform to the law of causality. The causalism that underlies our scientific view of the world breaks everything down into individual processes which it punctiliously tries to isolate from all other parallel processes. This tendency is absolutely necessary if we are to gain reliable knowledge of the world, but philosophically it has the disadvantage of breaking up, or obscuring, the universal interrelationship of events so that a recognition of the greater relationship, i.e., of the unity of the world, becomes more and more difficult. Everything that happens, however, happens in the same “one world” and is a part of it. For this reason events must possess an a priori aspect of unity, though it is difficult to establish this by the statistical method. So far as we can see at present, Rhine seems to have successfully demonstrated this unity by his extrasensory-perception experiments (ESP).45 Independence of time and space brings about a concurrence or meaningful coincidence of events not causally connected with one another—phenomena which till now were summed under the purely descriptive concepts of telepathy, clairvoyance, and precognition. These concepts naturally have no explanatory value as each of them represents an X which cannot be distinguished from the X of the other. The characteristic feature of all these phenomena, including Rhine’s psychokinetic effect and other synchronistic occurrences, is meaningful coincidence, and as such I have defined the synchronistic

principle. This principle suggests that there is an inter-connection or unity of causally unrelated events, and thus postulates a unitary aspect of being which can very well be described as the unus mundus.

632. Mercurius usually stands for the arcane substance, whose synonyms are the panacea and the “spagyric medicine.” Dorn identifies the latter with the “balsam”46 of Paracelsus, which is a close analogy of the  of the Basilidians. In the De vita longa of Paracelsus, balsam as an elixir vitae is associated with the term “gamonymus,” which might be rendered “having the name of matrimony.”47 Dorn thinks that the balsam, which “stands higher than nature,” is to be found in the human body and is a kind of aetheric substance.48 He says it is the best medicament not only for the body but also for the mind (mens). Though it is a corporeal substance, as a combination of the spirit and soul of the spagyric medicine it is essentially spiritual.49

We conclude that meditative philosophy consists in the overcoming of the body by mental union [unio mentalis]. This first union does not as yet make the wise man, but only the mental disciple of wisdom. The second union of the mind with the body shows forth the wise man, hoping for and expecting that blessed third union with the first unity [i.e., the unus mundus, the latent unity of the world]. May Almighty God grant that all men be made such, and may He be one in All.50

*  *  *

633. It is significant for the whole of alchemy that in Dorn’s view a mental union was not the culminating point but merely the first stage of the procedure. The second stage is reached when the mental union, that is, the unity of spirit and soul, is conjoined with the body. But a consummation of the mysterium coniunctionis can be expected only when the unity of spirit, soul, and body is made one with the original unus mundus. This third stage of the coniunctio was depicted51 after the manner of an Assumption and Coronation of Mary, in which the Mother of God represents the body. The Assumption is really a wedding feast, the Christian version of the hierosgamos, whose originally incestuous nature played a great role in alchemy. The traditional incest always indicated that the supreme union of opposites expressed a combination of things which are related but of unlike nature.52 This may begin with a purely intra-psychic unio mentalis of

intellect or reason with Eros, representing feeling. Such an interior operation means a great deal, since it brings a considerable increase of self-knowledge as well as of personal maturity, but its reality is merely potential and is validated only by a union with the physical world of the body. The alchemists therefore pictured the unio mentalis as Father and Son and their union as the dove (the “spiration” common to both), but the world of the body they represented by the feminine or passive principle, namely Mary. Thus, for more than a thousand years, they prepared the ground for the dogma of the Assumption. It is true that the far-reaching implications of a marriage of the fatherly spiritual principle with the principle of matter, or maternal corporeality, are not to be seen from the dogma at first glance. Nevertheless, it does bridge over a gulf that seems unfathomable: the apparently irremediable separation of spirit from nature and the body. Alchemy throws a bright light on the background of the dogma, for the new article of faith expresses in symbolical form exactly what the adepts recognized as being the secret of their coniunctio. The correspondence is indeed so great that the old Masters could legitimately have declared that the new dogma has written the Hermetic secret in the skies. As against this it will be said that the alchemists smuggled the mystic or theological marriage into their obscure procedures. This is contradicted by the fact that the alchymical marriage is not only older than the corresponding formulation in the liturgy and of the Church Fathers but is based on classical and pre-Christian tradition.53 The alchemical tradition cannot be brought into relationship with the Apocalyptic marriage of the Lamb. The highly differentiated symbolism of the latter (lamb and city) is itself an offshoot of the archetypal hierosgamos, just as this is the source for the alchemical idea of the coniunctio.

634. The adepts strove to realize their speculative ideas in the form of a chemical substance which they thought was endowed with all kinds of magical powers. This is the literal meaning of their uniting the unio mentalis with the body. For us it is certainly not easy to include moral and philosophical reflections in this amalgamation, as the alchemists obviously did. For one thing we know too much about the real nature of chemical combination, and for another we have a much too abstract conception of the mind to be able to understand how a “truth” can be hidden in matter or what an effective “balsam” must be like. Owing to medieval ignorance both of chemistry and of psychology, and the lack of any epistemological

criticism, the two concepts could easily mix, so that things that for us have no recognizable connection with one another could enter into mutual relationship.

635. The dogma of the Assumption and the alchemical mysterium coniunctionis express the same fundamental thought even though in very different symbolism. Just as the Church insists on the literal taking up of the physical body into heaven, so the alchemists believed in the possibility, or even in the actual existence, of their stone or of the philosophical gold. In both cases belief was a substitute for the missing empirical reality. Even though alchemy was essentially more materialistic in its procedures than the dogma, both of them remain at the second, anticipatory stage of the coniunctio, the union of the unio mentalis with the body. Even Dorn did not venture to assert that he or any other adept had perfected the third stage in his lifetime. Naturally there were as many swindlers and dupes as ever who claimed to possess the lapis or golden tincture, or to be able to make it. But the more honest alchemists readily admitted that they had not yet plumbed the final secret.
636. One should not be put off by the physical impossibilities of dogma or of the coniunctio, for they are symbols in regard to which the allurements of rationalism are entirely out of place and miss the mark. If symbols mean anything at all, they are tendencies which pursue a definite but not yet recognizable goal and consequently can express themselves only in analogies. In this uncertain situation one must be content to leave things as they are, and give up trying to know anything beyond the symbol. In the case of dogma such a renunciation is reinforced by the fear of possibly violating the sanctity of a religious idea, and in the case of alchemy it was until very recently considered not worth while to rack one’s brains over medieval absurdities. Today, armed with psychological understanding, we are in a position to penetrate into the meaning of even the most abstruse alchemical symbols, and there is no justifiable reason why we should not apply the same method to dogma. Nobody, after all, can deny that it consists of ideas which are born of man’s imagining and thinking. The question of how far this thinking may be inspired by the Holy Ghost is not affected at all, let alone decided, by psychological investigation, nor is the possibility of a metaphysical background denied. Psychology cannot advance any argument either for or against the objective validity of any

metaphysical view. I have repeated this statement in various places in order to give the lie to the obstinate and grotesque notion that a psychological explanation must necessarily be either psychologism or its opposite, namely a metaphysical assertion. The psychic is a phenomenal world in itself, which can be reduced neither to the brain nor to metaphysics.

637. I have just said that symbols are tendencies whose goal is as yet unknown.54 We may assume that the same fundamental rules obtain in the history of the human mind as in the psychology of the individual. In psychotherapy it often happens that, long before they reach consciousness, certain unconscious tendencies betray their presence by symbols, occurring mostly in dreams but also in waking fantasies and symbolic actions. Often we have the impression that the unconscious is trying to enter consciousness by means of all sorts of allusions and analogies, or that it is making more or less playful attempts to attract attention to itself. One can observe these phenomena very easily in a dream-series. The series I discussed in Psychology and Alchemy offers a good example.55 Ideas develop from seeds, and we do not know what ideas will develop from what seeds in the course of history. The Assumption of the Virgin, for instance, is vouched for neither in Scripture nor in the tradition of the first five centuries of the Christian Church. For a long time it was officially denied even, but, with the connivance of the whole medieval and modern Church, it gradually developed as a “pious opinion” and gained so much power and influence that it finally succeeded in thrusting aside the necessity for scriptural proof and for a tradition going back to primitive times, and in attaining definition in spite of the fact that the content of the dogma is not even definable.56 The papal declaration made a reality of what had long been condoned. This irrevocable step beyond the confines of historical Christianity is the strongest proof of the autonomy of archetypal images.

2. STAGES OF THE CONJUNCTION

638. The coniunctio affords another example of the gradual development of an idea in the course of the millennia. Its history flows in two main streams which are largely independent of one another: theology and alchemy.

While alchemy has, except for a few traces, been extinct for some two hundred years, theology has put forth a new blossom in the dogma of the Assumption, from which it is evident that the stream of development has by no means come to a standstill. But the differentiation of the two streams has not yet passed beyond the framework of the archetypal hierosgamos, for the coniunctio is still represented as a union of mother and son or of a brother-sister pair. Already in the sixteenth century, however, Gerard Dorn had recognized the psychological aspect of the chymical marriage and clearly understood it as what we today would call the individuation process. This is a step beyond the bounds which were set to the coniunctio, both in ecclesiastical doctrine and in alchemy, by its archetypal symbolism. It seems to me that Dorn’s view represents a logical understanding of it in two respects: first because the discrepancy between the chemical operation and the psychic events associated with it could not remain permanently hidden from an attentive and critical observer, and secondly because the marriage symbolism obviously never quite satisfied the alchemical thinkers themselves, since they constantly felt obliged to make use of other “uniting symbols,” besides the numerous variants of the hierosgamos, to express the all but incomprehensible nature of the mystery. Thus the coniunctio is represented by the dragon embracing the woman in the grave,57 or by two animals fighting,58 or by the king dissolving in water,59 and so on. Similarly, in Chinese philosophy the meaning of yang is far from exhausted with its masculine connotation. It also means dry, bright, and the south side of the mountain, just as the feminine yin means damp, dark, and the north side of the mountain.

639. Although the esoteric symbolism of the coniunctio occupies a prominent position, it does not cover all aspects of the mysterium. In addition we have to consider the symbolism of death and the grave, and the motif of conflict. Obviously, very different if not contradictory symbolisms were needed to give an adequate description of the paradoxical nature of the conjunction. In such a situation one can conclude with certainty that none of the symbols employed suffices to express the whole. One therefore feels compelled to seek a formula in which the various aspects can be brought together without contradiction. Dorn attempted to do this with the means that were then at his disposal. He could do so the more easily as the current idea of correspondentia came to his aid. For a man of those times there was no intellectual difficulty in

postulating a “truth” which was the same in God, in man, and in matter. With the help of this idea he could see at once that the reconciliation of hostile elements and the union of alchemical opposites formed a “correspondence” to the unio mentalis which took place simultaneously in the mind of man, and not only in man but in God (“that He may be one in All”). Dorn correctly recognized that the entity in which the union took place is the psychological authority which I have called the self. The unio mentalis, the interior oneness which today we call individuation, he conceived as a psychic equilibration of opposites “in the overcoming of the body,” a state of equanimity transcending the body’s affectivity and instinctuality.60 The spirit (animus), which is to unite with the soul, he called a “spiracle [spiraculum] of eternal life,” a sort of “window into eternity” (Leibniz), whereas the soul is an organ of the spirit and the body an instrument of the soul. The soul stands between good and evil and has the “option” of both. It animates the body by a “natural union,” just as, by a “supernatural union,” it is endowed with life by the spirit.61

640. But, in order to bring about their subsequent reunion, the mind (mens) must be separated from the body—which is equivalent to “voluntary death”62—for only separated things can unite. By this separation (distractio) Dorn obviously meant a discrimination and dissolution of the “composite,” the composite state being one in which the affectivity of the body has a disturbing-influence on the rationality of the mind. The aim of this separation was to free the mind from the influence of the “bodily appetites and the heart’s affections,” and to establish a spiritual position which is supraordinate to the turbulent sphere of the body. This leads at first to a dissociation of the personality and a violation of the merely natural man.
641. This preliminary step, in itself a clear blend of Stoic philosophy and Christian psychology, is indispensable for the differentiation of consciousness.63 Modern psychotherapy makes use of the same procedure when it objectifies the affects and instincts and confronts consciousness with them. But the separation of the spiritual and the vital spheres, and the subordination of the latter to the rational standpoint, is not satisfactory inasmuch as reason alone cannot do complete or even adequate justice to the irrational facts of the unconscious. In the long run it does not pay to cripple life by insisting on the primacy of the spirit, for which reason the

pious man cannot prevent himself from sinning again and again and the rationalist must constantly trip up over his own irrationalities. Only the man who hides the other side in artificial unconsciousness can escape this intolerable conflict. Accordingly, the chronic duel between body and spirit seems a better though by no means ideal solution. The advantage, however, is that both sides remain conscious. Anything conscious can be corrected, but anything that slips away into the unconscious is beyond the reach of correction and, its rank growth undisturbed, is subject to increasing degeneration. Happily, nature sees to it that the unconscious contents will irrupt into consciousness sooner or later and create the necessary confusion. A permanent and uncomplicated state of spiritualization is therefore such a rarity that its possessors are canonized by the Church.

642. Since the soul animates the body, just as the soul is animated by the spirit, she tends to favour the body and everything bodily, sensuous, and emotional. She lies caught in “the chains” of Physis, and she desires “beyond physical necessity.” She must be called back by the “counsel of the spirit” from her lostness in matter and the world. This is a relief to the body too, for it not only enjoys the advantage of being animated by the soul but suffers under the disadvantage of having to serve as the instrument of the soul’s appetites and desires. Her wish-fantasies impel it to deeds to which it would not rouse itself without this incentive, for the inertia of matter is inborn in it and probably forms its only interest except for the satisfaction of physiological instincts. Hence the separation means withdrawing the soul and her projections from the bodily sphere and from all environmental conditions relating to the body. In modern terms it would be a turning away from sensuous reality, a withdrawal of the fantasy-projections that give “the ten thousand things” their attractive and deceptive glamour. In other words, it means introversion, introspection, meditation, and the careful investigation of desires and their motives. Since, as Dorn says, the soul “stands between good and evil,” the disciple will have every opportunity to discover the dark side of his personality, his inferior wishes and motives, childish fantasies and resentments, etc.; in short, all those traits he habitually hides from himself. He will be confronted with his shadow, but more rarely with the good qualities, of which he is accustomed to make a show anyway. He will learn to know his soul, that is, his anima and Shakti who conjures up a delusory world for

him. He attains this knowledge, Dorn supposes, with the help of the spirit, by which are meant all the higher mental faculties such as reason, insight, and moral discrimination. But, in so far as the spirit is also a “window into eternity” and, as the anima rationalis immortal, it conveys to the soul a certain “divine influx” and the knowledge of higher things, wherein consists precisely its supposed animation of the soul. This higher world has an impersonal character and consists on the one hand of all those traditional, intellectual, and moral values which educate and cultivate the individual, and, on the other, of the products of the unconscious, which present themselves to consciousness as archetypal ideas. Usually the former predominate. But when, weakened by age or by criticism, they lose their power of conviction, the archetypal ideas rush in to fill the gap. Freud, correctly recognizing this situation, called the traditional values the “super-ego,” but the archetypal ideas remained unknown to him, as the belief in reason and the positivism of the nineteenth century never relaxed their hold. A materialistic view of the world ill accords with the reality and autonomy of the psyche.

643. The arcanum of alchemy is one of these archetypal ideas that fills a gap in the Christian view of the world, namely, the un-bridged gulf between the opposites, in particular between good and evil. Only logic knows a tertium non datur; nature consists entirely of such “thirds,” since she is represented by effects which resolve an opposition—just as a waterfall mediates between “above” and “below.” The alchemists sought for that effect which would heal not only the disharmonies of the physical world but the inner psychic conflict as well, the “affliction of the soul”; and they called this effect the lapis Philosophorum. In order to obtain it, they had to loosen the age-old attachment of the soul to the body and thus make conscious the conflict between the purely natural and the spiritual man. In so doing they rediscovered the old truth that every operation of this kind is a figurative death 64—which explains the violent aversion everybody feels when he has to see through his projections and recognize the nature of his anima. It requires indeed an unusual degree of self- abnegation to question the fictitious picture of one’s own personality. This, nevertheless, is the requirement of any psychotherapy that goes at all deep, and one realizes how oversimplified its procedures are only when the analyst has to try out his own medicine on himself. One can, as experience has often shown, relieve oneself of the difficult act of self-knowledge by

shutting out the moral criterion with so-called scientific objectivity or unvarnished cynicism. But this simply means buying a certain amount of insight at the cost of artificially repressing an ethical value. The result of this deception is that the insight is robbed of its efficacy, since the moral reaction is missing. Thus the foundations for a neurotic dissociation are laid, and this in no way corresponds to the psychotherapist’s intention. The goal of the procedure is the unio mentalis, the attainment of full knowledge of the heights and depths of one’s own character.

644. If the demand for self-knowledge is willed by fate and is refused, this negative attitude may end in real death. The demand would not have come to this person had he still been able to strike out on some promising by- path. But he is caught in a blind alley from which only self-knowledge can extricate him. If he refuses this then no other way is open to him. Usually he is not conscious of his situation, either, and the more unconscious he is the more he is at the mercy of unforeseen dangers: he cannot get out of the way of a car quickly enough, in climbing a mountain he misses his foothold somewhere, out skiing he thinks he can just negotiate a tricky slope, and in an illness he suddenly loses the courage to live. The unconscious has a thousand ways of snuffing out a meaningless existence with surprising swiftness. The connection of the unio mentalis with the death-motif is therefore obvious, even when death consists only in the cessation of spiritual progress.
645. The alchemists rightly regarded “mental union in the overcoming of the body” as only the first stage of conjunction or individuation, in the same way that Khunrath understood Christ as the “Saviour of the Microcosm” but not of the Macrocosm, whose saviour was the lapis.65 In general, the alchemists strove for a total union of opposites in symbolic form, and this they regarded as the indispensable condition for the healing of all ills. Hence they sought to find ways and means to produce that substance in which all opposites were united. It had to be material as well as spiritual, living as well as inert, masculine as well as feminine, old as well as young, and—presumably—morally neutral. It had to be created by man, and at the same time, since it was an “increatum,” by God himself, the Deus terrestris.
646. The second step on the way to the production of this substance was the reunion of the spirit with the body. For this procedure there were many

symbols. One of the most important was the chymical marriage, which took place in the retort. The older alchemists were still so unconscious of the psychological implications of the opus that they understood their own symbols as mere allegories or—semiotically—as secret names for chemical combinations, thus stripping mythology, of which they made such copious use, of its true meaning and using only its terminology. Later this was to change, and already in the fourteenth century it began to dawn on them that the lapis was more than a chemical compound. This realization expressed itself mainly in the Christ-parallel.66 Dorn was probably the first to recognize the psychological implications for what they were, so far as this was intellectually possible for a man of that age. Proof of this is his demand that the pupil must have a good physical and, more particularly, a good moral constitution.67 A religious attitude was essential.68 For in the individual was hidden that “substance of celestial nature known to very few,” the “incorrupt medicament” which “can be freed from its fetters, not by its contrary but by its like.” The “spagyric medicine” whereby it is freed must be “conformable to this substance.” The medicine “prepares” the body so that the separation can be undertaken. For, when the body is “prepared,” it can be separated more easily from “the other parts.”

647. Like all alchemists, Dorn naturally did not reveal what the spagyric medicine was. One can only suppose that it was thought of as physical, more or less. At the same time he says that a certain asceticism is desirable, and this may be a reference to the moral nature of the mysterious panacea. At any rate he hastens to add that the “assiduous reader” will thenceforth advance from the meditative philosophy to the spagyric and thence to the true and perfect wisdom. It sounds as if the assiduous reader had been engaged at the outset in reading and meditating, and as if the medicine and the preparation of the body consisted precisely in that.69 Just as for Paracelsus the right “theoria” was part of the panacea, so for the alchemists was the symbol, which expresses the unconscious projections. Indeed, it is these that make the substance magically effective, and for this reason they cannot be separated from the alchemical procedure whose integral components they are.
648. The second stage of conjunction, the re-uniting of the unio mentalis

with the body, is particularly important, as only from here can the

complete conjunction be attained—union with the unus mundus. The reuniting of the spiritual position with the body obviously means that the insights gained should be made real. An insight might just as well remain in abeyance if it is simply not used. The second stage of conjunction therefore consists in making a reality of the man who has acquired some knowledge of his paradoxical wholeness.

649. The great difficulty here, however, is that no one knows how the paradoxical wholeness of man can ever be realized. That is the crux of individuation, though it becomes a problem only when the loophole of “scientific” or other kinds of cynicism is not used. Because the realization of the wholeness that has been made conscious is an apparently insoluble task and faces the psychologist with questions which he can answer only with hesitation and uncertainty, it is of the greatest interest to see how the more unencumbered symbolical thinking of a medieval “philosopher” tackled this problem. The texts that have come down to us do not encourage the supposition that Dorn was conscious of the full range of his undertaking. Although in general he had a clear grasp of the role the adept played in the alchemical process, the problem did not present itself to him in all its acuteness, because only a part of it was enacted in the moral and psychological sphere, while for the rest it was hypostatized in the form of certain magical properties of the living body, or as a magical substance hidden within it. This projection spread over the problem a kind of mist which obscured its sharp edges. The alchemists still believed that metaphysical assertions could be proved (even today we have still not entirely freed ourselves from this somewhat childish assumption), and they could therefore entrench themselves behind seemingly secure positions in the Beyond, which they were confident would not be shaken by any doubts. In this way they were able to procure for themselves considerable alleviations. One has only to think what it means if in the misery and incertitude of a moral or philosophical dilemma one has a quinta essentia, a lapis or a panacea so to say in one’s pocket! We can understand this deus ex machina the more easily when we remember with what passion people today believe that psychological complications can be made magically to disappear by means of hormones, narcotics, insulin shocks, and convulsion therapy. The alchemists were as little able to perceive the symbolical nature of their ideas of the arcanum as we to recognize that the belief in hormones and shocks is a symbol. We would indignantly dismiss such an

interpretation as a nonsensical suggestion.

3. THE PRODUCTION OF THE QUINTESSENCE

650. Much of Dorn’s argument moves in the sphere of symbols and soars on winged feet into the clouds. But that does not prevent his symbols from having a more mundane meaning which appears more or less accessible to our psychology. Thus, he knew that even the wise man could not reconcile the opposites unless “a certain heavenly substance hidden in the human body” came to his help, namely the “balsam,” the quintessence, the “philosophic wine,”70 a “virtue and heavenly vigour”71—in short, the “truth.” 72 This truth was the panacea. It is only indirectly hidden in the body, since in reality it consists in the imago Dei imprinted in man. This imago is the true quintessence and the “virtue” of the philosophic wine. The latter is therefore an apt synonym, because wine in the form of a liquid represents the body, but as alcohol it represents spirit, which would seem to correspond with the “heavenly virtue.” This, although divided up among individuals, is universal; it is one, and when “freed from its fetters in the things of sense” it returns to its original state of unity. “This is one of the secrets of nature, whereby the spagyrics have attained to higher things.”73 The “wine” can be prepared from grain74 and from all other seeds.75 The extracted essence is reduced to its “greatest simplicity” by “assiduous rotary movements,”76 whereby the pure is separated from the impure:

Then you will see the pureness floating to the top, transparent, shining, and of the colour of purest air. . . . 77 You will see the heretofore spagyric [i.e., secret] heaven, which you can bedeck with the lower stars, as the upper heaven is bedecked with the upper stars. . . . 78 Will now the unbelievers, who have imitated the Physicists, marvel that we handle in our hands the heaven and the stars? . . . For us, therefore, the lower stars are all individuals produced by nature in this lower world by their conjunction with heaven, like [the conjunction] of the higher with the lower elements.79 Now I hear the voice of many raging against us, and crying out, Avaunt! let those men be destroyed who say that heaven can conjoin itself to earth …

651. The caelum therefore is a heavenly substance and a universal form, containing in itself all forms, distinct from one another, but proceeding

from one single universal form. Wherefore, he who knows how individuals can be led on to the most general genus by the spagyric art, and how the special virtues, one or more, can be impressed upon this genus, will easily find the universal medicine. . . . For since there is one single and most general beginning of all corruptions, and one universal fount of regenerating, restoring, and life-giving virtues, who, save a man bereft of his senses, will call such a medicine in doubt?80

652. Through the alchemical treatment of the “grana” (or grape-pips),

our Mercurius is concocted by the highest sublimation [exaltatione]. The mixture of the new heaven, of honey,81 Chelidonia,82 rosemary flowers,83 Mercurialis,84 of the red lily85 and human blood,86 with the heaven of the red or white wine or of Tartarus, can be undertaken    87

One can also make another mixture, namely that of heaven and the philosophical key,88 by the artifice of generation.

653. Here even Dorn remarks that the reader will hold his breath, adding:

It is true that these things are scarcely to be understood [vix intelligibilia] unless one has full knowledge of the terms used in the art, and these we consider we have defined in the second stage, treating of meditative knowledge. Meditative knowledge is thus the sure and undoubted resolution by expert certitude, of all manner of opinions concerning the truth. But opinion is an anticipation [praesumptio] of the truth, fixed in the mind and doubtful. Experiment, on the other hand, is manifest demonstration of the truth, and resolution the putting away of doubt. We cannot be resolved of any doubt save by experiment, and there is no better way to make it than on ourselves. . . . We have said earlier that piety consists in knowledge of ourselves, and hence we begin to explain meditative knowledge from this also. But no man can truly know himself unless first he see and know by zealous meditation . . . what rather than who he is, on whom he depends, and whose he is, and to what end he was made and created, and by whom and through whom.

654. God made man to partake of his glory and created him in his image. “Even as we were created of the basest and most worthless clay, despised of all, so and no otherwise, by reason of the prime matter whereof we consist, are we more prone to everything vile than to him who out of vile matter created us of old to be most precious creatures, adorned with glory

and honour little less than the angels.” From the basest matter God created gold and precious stones. Therefore, knowing our nature and our origin, we should abstain from pride, for God looks not upon the person but upon poverty and humility and hates pride. Only he who made the water and the wine can change the one into the other, and so also the earth into a living soul, and he endued it with his image and likeness for the certainty of our salvation. Nevertheless we became rebels through the sin of Adam, but God was reconciled with us. “Who will be so stony [lapideus], when he shall revolve in his mind the mystery of the divine goodness, as not to be reconciled with his enemy, however great the injury he received from him?” He who knows God will know his brother also. This is the foundation of the true philosophy. And he who observes all this in himself and frees his mind from all worldly cares and distractions,89 “little by little and from day to day will perceive with his mental eyes and with the greatest joy some sparks of divine illumination.” The soul, moved by this, will unite with the body:

At length the body is compelled to resign itself to, and obey, the union of the two that are united [soul and spirit].90 That is the wondrous transformation of the Philosophers, of body into spirit, and of the latter into body, of which there has been left to us by the sages the saying, Make the fixed volatile and the volatile fixed,91 and in this you have our Magistery. Understand this after the following manner: Make the unyielding body tractable, so that by the excellence of the spirit coming together with the soul it becomes a most stable body ready to endure all trials. For gold is tried in the fire. . . . Draw near, ye who seek the treasures in such diverse ways, know the rejected stone which is made the head of the corner. . . . In vain do they labour, all searchers after the hidden secrets of nature, when, looking for another way of ingress, they seek to reveal the virtues of earthly things through earthly things. Learn not heaven therefore through the earth, but learn the virtues of one by those of the other. Seek the incorruptible medicine which not only transmutes bodies from corruption to their true disposition [temperamentum], but preserves those so disposed [temperata] for any length of time. Such medicine you can find nowhere but in heaven. For heaven, by virtue of invisible rays coming together from all sides in the centre of the earth, penetrates, generates, and nourishes all elements, and all things that arise from the elements. This child of the two parents, of

the elements and heaven, has in itself such a nature that the potentiality and actuality [potentia et actu] of both parents can be found in it. What will remain there till today [i.e., in the centre of the earth], save the stone in the spagyric generation?92 Learn from within thyself to know all that is in heaven and on earth, and especially that all was created for thy sake. Knowest thou not that heaven and the elements were formerly one, and were separated from one another by divine artifice, that they might bring forth thee and all things? If thou knowest this, the rest cannot escape thee. Therefore in all generation a separation of this kind is necessary.

. . . Thou wilt never make from others the One which thou seekest, except first there be made one thing of thyself …93

4. THE MEANING OF THE ALCHEMICAL PROCEDURE

655. Thus Dorn describes the secret of the second stage of conjunction. To the modern mind such contrivances of thought will seem like nebulous products of a dreaming fancy. So, in a sense, they are, and for this reason they lend themselves to decipherment by the method of complex psychology. In his attempt to make the obviously confused situation clearer, Dorn involved himself in a discussion of the ways and means for producing the quintessence, which was evidently needed for uniting the unio mentalis with the body. One naturally asks oneself how this alchemical procedure enters into it at all. The unio mentalis is so patently a spiritual and moral attitude that one cannot doubt its psychological nature. To our way of thinking, this immediately sets up a dividing wall between the psychic and the chemical process. For us the two things are incommensurable, but they were not so for the medieval mind. It knew nothing of the nature of chemical substances and their combination. It saw only enigmatic substances which, united with one another, inexplicably brought forth equally mysterious new substances. In this profound darkness the alchemist’s fantasy had free play and could playfully combine the most inconceivable things. It could act without restraint and, in so doing, portray itself without being aware of what was happening.
656. The free-ranging psyche of the adept used chemical substances and processes as a painter uses colours to shape out the images of his fancy. If Dorn, in order to describe the union of the unio mentalis with the body,

reaches out for his chemical substances and implements, this only means that he was illustrating his fantasies by chemical procedures. For this purpose he chose the most suitable substances, just as the painter chooses the right colours. Honey, for instance, had to go into the mixture because of its purifying quality. As a Paracelsist, Dorn knew from the writings of the Master what high praises he had heaped upon it, calling it the “sweetness of the earths,” the “resin of the earth” which permeates all growing things, the “Indian spirit” which is turned by the “influence of summer” into a “corporeal spirit.”94 Thereby the mixture acquired the property not only of eliminating impurities but of changing spirit into body, and in view of the proposed conjunction of the spirit and the body this seemed a particularly promising sign. To be sure, the “sweetness of the earths” was not without its dangers, for as we have seen (n. 81) the honey could change into a deadly poison. According to Paracelsus it contains “Tartarum,” which as its name implies has to do with Hades. Further, Tartarum is a “calcined Saturn” and consequently has affinities with this malefic planet. For another ingredient Dorn takes Chelidonia (Chelidonium maius, celandine), which cures eye diseases and is particularly good for night-blindness, and even heals the spiritual “benightedness” (affliction of the soul, melancholy-madness) so much feared by the adepts. It protects against “thunderstorms,” i.e., outbursts of affect. It is a precious ingredient, because its yellow flowers symbolize the philosophical gold, the highest treasure. What is more important here, it draws the humidity, the “soul,”95 out of Mercurius. It therefore assists the “spiritualization” of the body and makes visible the essence of Mercurius, the supreme chthonic spirit. But Mercurius is also the devil.96 Perhaps that is why the section in which Lagneus defines the nature of Mercurius is entitled “Dominus vobiscum.”97

657. In addition, the plant Mercurialis (dog’s mercury) is indicated. Like the Homeric magic herb Moly, it was found by Hermes himself and must therefore have magical effects. It is particularly favourable to the coniunctio because it occurs in male and female form and thus can determine the sex of a child about to be conceived. Mercurius himself was said to be generated from an extract of it—that spirit which acts as a mediator (because he is utriusque capax, “capable of either”) and saviour of the Macrocosm, and is therefore best able to unite the above with the below. In his ithyphallic form as Hermes Kyllenios, he contributes the

attractive power of sexuality, which plays a great role in the coniunctio symbolism.98 Like honey, he is dangerous because of his possibly poisonous effect, for which reason it naturally seemed advisable to our author to add rosemary to the mixture as an alexipharmic (antidote) and a synonym for Mercurius (aqua permanens), perhaps on the principle that “like cures like.” Dorn could hardly resist the temptation to exploit the alchemical allusion to “ros marinus,” sea-dew. In agreement with ecclesiastical symbolism there was in alchemy, too, a “dew of grace,” the aqua vitae, the perpetual, permanent, and two-meaninged , divine water or sulphur water. The water was also called aqua pontica (sea-water) or simply “sea.” This was the great sea over which the alchemist sailed in his mystic peregrination, guided by the “heart” of Mercurius in the heavenly North Pole, to which nature herself points with the magnetic compass.99 It was also the bath of regeneration, the spring rain which brings forth the vegetation, and the “aqua doctrinae.”

658. Another alexipharmic is the lily. But it is much more than that: its juice is “mercurial” and even “incombustible,” a sure sign of its incorruptible and “eternal” nature. This is confirmed by the fact that the lily was conceived to be Mercurius and the quintessence itself—the noblest thing that human meditation can reach (see n. 85). The red lily stands for the male and the white for the female in the coniunctio, the divine pair that unite in the hierosgamos. The lily is therefore a true “gamonymus” in the Paracelsan sense.
659. Finally, the mixture must not lack the thing that really keeps body and soul together: human blood, which was regarded as the seat of the soul.100 It was a synonym for the red tincture, a preliminary stage of the lapis; moreover, it was an old-established magic charm, a “ligament” for binding the soul either to God or the devil, and hence a powerful medicine for uniting the unio mentalis with the body. The admixture of human blood seems to me unusual if one assumes that the recipe was meant literally. We move here on uncertain ground. Although the vegetable ingredients are obviously indicated because of their symbolic value, we still do not know exactly how far the symbolism had a magical quality. If it had, then the recipe must be taken literally. In the case of blood, increased doubts arise because either it was simply a synonym for the aqua permanens and could then be practically any liquid, or else real blood was meant, and then we

must ask where this blood came from. Could it have been the adept’s? This problem seems to me not entirely irrelevant, since Dorn, in his “Philosophia meditativa,” was greatly influenced, as we shall see, by the Sabaean “Liber quartorum,” which he obviously knew although he did not mention it. The Sabaeans were reputed to have sacrificed human victims for magical purposes,101 and even today human blood is used for signing pacts with the devil. It is also not so long since tramps were made drunk and quickly immured on a building site in order to make the foundations safe. A magical recipe of the sixteenth century, therefore, might easily have used human blood as a pars pro toto.

660. This whole mixture was then joined “with the heaven of the red or white wine or of Tartarus.” The caelum, as we have seen, was the product of the alchemical procedure, which in this case consisted in first distilling the “philosophic wine.” Thereby the soul and spirit were separated from the body and repeatedly sublimated until they were free from all “phlegm,” i.e., from all liquid that contained no more “spirit.”102 The residue, called the corpus (body), was reduced to ashes in the “most vehement fire” and, hot water being added, was changed into a lixivium asperrimum, “very sharp lye,” which was then carefully poured off the ashes by tilting the vessel. The residue was treated in the same way again, until in the end no “asperitas” remained in the ashes. The lye was filtered and then evaporated in a glass vessel. What was left over was tartarum nostrum (“our winestone,” calculus vini), the natural “salt of all things.” This salt “can be dissolved into tartaric water, in a damp and cool place on a slab of marble.”103 The tartaric water was the quintessence of the philosophic and even of ordinary wine, and was then subjected to the above-mentioned rotation. As in a centrifuge, the pure was separated from the impure, and a liquid “of the colour of the air” floated to the top. This was the caelum.
661. I have detailed this process in order to give the reader a direct impression of the alchemical procedure. One can hardly suppose that all this is mere poppycock, for Dorn was a man who obviously took things seriously. So far as one can judge he meant what he said, and he himself worked in the laboratory. Of course we do not know what success he had chemically, but we are sufficiently informed about the results of his meditative exertions.
662. The caelum, for Dorn, was the celestial substance hidden in man, the

secret “truth,” the “sum of virtue,” the “treasure which is not eaten into by moths nor dug out by thieves.” In the world’s eyes it is the cheapest thing, but “to the wise more worthy of love than precious stones and gold, a good that passeth not away, and is taken hence after death.”104 The reader will gather from this that the adept was describing nothing less than the kingdom of heaven on earth. I think that Dorn was not exaggerating, but that he wanted to communicate to his public something very important to him. He believed in the necessity of the alchemical operation as well as in its success; he was convinced that the quintessence was needed for the “preparation” of the body,105 and that the body was so much improved by this “universal medicine” that the coniunctio with spirit and soul could be consummated. If the production of the caelum from wine is a hair-raising chemical fantasy, our understanding ceases altogether when the adept mixes this heaven with his “gamonymous” and other magical herbs. But if the one consists mainly of fantasies so does the other. This makes it interesting. Fantasies always mean something when they are spontaneous. The question then arises: what is the psychological meaning of the procedure?

5. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL INTERPRETATION OF THE PROCEDURE

663. The answer to this question concerns us very closely, because here we come upon something that is of particular interest to modern psychology: the adept produces a system of fantasies that has a special meaning for him. Although he keeps within the general framework of alchemical ideas, he does not repeat a prescribed pattern, but, following his own fancy, devises an individual series of ideas and corresponding actions which it is evident have a symbolic character. He starts with the production of the medicine that will unite the unio mentalis, his spiritual position, with the body. The ambiguity already begins here: is the “corpus” his human body or the chemical substance? Apparently it is, to start off with, his living body, which as everyone knows has different desires from the spirit. But hardly has the chemical process got under way than the “body” is what remains behind in the retort from the distillation of the wine, and this “phlegm” is then treated like the subtle body of the soul in the purgatorial fire. Like it, the residue from the wine must pass through many subliming fires until it is so purified that the “air-coloured” quintessence can be extracted from it.
664. This singular identity, simply postulated and never taken as a problem, is an example of that “participation mystique” which Lévy-Bruhl very rightly stressed as being characteristic of the primitive mentality.106 The same is true of the unquestionably psychic unio mentalis, which is at the same time a substance-like “truth” hidden in the body, which in turn coincides with the quintessence sublimed from the “phlegm.” It never occurred to the mind of the alchemists to cast any doubt whatsoever on this intellectual monstrosity. We naturally think that such a thing could happen only in the “dark” Middle Ages. As against this I must emphasize that we too have not quite got out of the woods in this respect, for a philosopher once assured me in all seriousness that “thought could not err,” and a very famous professor, whose assertions I had ventured to criticize, came out with the magisterial dictum: “It must be right because I have thought it.”
665. All projections are unconscious identifications with the object. Every projection is simply there as an uncriticized datum of experience, and is

recognized for what it is only very much later, if ever. Everything that we today would call “mind” and “insight” was, in earlier centuries, projected into things, and even today individual idiosyncrasies are presupposed by many people to be generally valid. The original, half-animal state of unconsciousness was known to the adept as the nigredo, the chaos, the massa confusa, an inextricable interweaving of the soul with the body, which together formed a dark unity (the unio naturalis). From this enchainment he had to free the soul by means of the separatio, and establish a spiritual-psychic counter-position—conscious and rational insight—which would prove immune to the influences of the body. But such insight, as we have seen, is possible only if the delusory projections that veil the reality of things can be withdrawn. The unconscious identity with the object then ceases and the soul is “freed from its fetters in the things of sense.” The psychologist is well acquainted with this process, for a very important part of his psychotherapeutic work consists in making conscious and dissolving the projections that falsify the patient’s view of the world and impede his self-knowledge. He does this in order to bring anomalous psychic states of an affective nature, i.e., neurotic symptoms, under the control of consciousness. The declared aim of the treatment is to set up a rational, spiritual-psychic position over against the turbulence of the emotions.

666. Projections can be withdrawn only when they come within the possible scope of consciousness. Outside that, nothing can be corrected. Thus, in spite of all his efforts, Dorn was unable to recognize the—for us

—blatant projection of psychic contents into chemical substances and thereby dissolve it. Evidently his understanding in this respect still moved within the confines of the contemporary consciousness, even though in other respects it plumbed to greater depths than did the collective consciousness of that age. Thus it is that the psychic sphere representing the body miraculously appeared to the adept to be identical with chemical preparation in the retort. Hence he could believe that any changes he effected in the latter would happen to the former as well. Significantly enough, one seldom hears of the panacea or lapis being applied to the human body. As a rule the carrying out of the chemical procedure seemed sufficient in itself. At any rate it was for Dorn, and that is why his chemical caelum coincided with the heavenly substance in the body, the “truth.” For him this was not a duality but an identity; for us they are

incommensurables that cannot be reconciled because, owing to our knowledge of chemical processes, we are able to distinguish them from psychic ones. In other words, our consciousness enables us to withdraw this projection.

667. The list of ingredients to be mixed with the caelum gives us a glimpse into the nature of the psychic contents that were projected. In the honey, the “sweetness of the earths,”107 we can easily recognize the balsam of life that permeates all living, budding, and growing things. It expresses, psychologically, the joy of life and the life urge which overcome and eliminate everything dark and inhibiting. Where spring-like joy and expectation reign, spirit can embrace nature and nature spirit. The Chelidonia, a synonym for the philosophical gold, corresponds to Paracelsus’s magic herb Cheyri (Cheiranthus cheiri). Like this, it has four- petalled yellow flowers. Cheyri, too, was related to the gold, since it was called “aurum potabile.” It therefore comes into the category of the Paracelsan “Aniada,” “perfectors from below upward”—magical plants which are collected in the spring and grant long life.108 Dorn himself, in his “Congeries Paracelsicae chemicae de transmutatione metallorum,” commented on Paracelsus’s De vita longa, where this information can be found. Celandine was one of the most popular curative and magical herbs in the Middle Ages, chiefly on account of its yellow, milky juice—a remedy for non-lactation. It was also called “enchanter’s nightshade.”109 Like the Cheyri, it owes its singular significance to the quaternity of its gold-coloured flowers, as Paracelsus points out.110 The analogy with gold always signifies an accentuation of value: the addition of Chelidonia projects the highest value, which is identical with the quaternity of the self, into the mixture. If it “draws out the soul of Mercurius,” this means psychologically that the image of the self (the golden quaternity) draws a quintessence out of the chthonic spirit.
668. I must agree with Dorn, and no doubt with the reader too, that this statement is “vix intelligibilis.” I can explain this only as a result of the extraordinary intellectual difficulties we get into when we have to wrestle seriously with a mind that could make no proper distinction between psyche and matter. The underlying idea here is that of Mercurius, a dual being who was as much spiritual as material. In my special study of that subject I have pointed out that outwardly Mercurius corresponds to

quicksilver but inwardly he is a “deus terrenus” and an anima mundi— in other words, that part of God which, when he “imagined” the world, was as it were left behind in his Creation111 or, like the Sophia of the Gnostics, got lost in Physis. Mercurius has the character which Dorn ascribes to the soul. He is “good with the good, evil with the evil,” and thus occupies a middle position morally. Just as the soul inclines to earthly bodies, so Mercurius frequently appears as the spirit in matter, in chthonic or even  (underworldly) form, as in our text. He is then the (non-human) spirit who holds the soul captive in Physis, for which reason it must be liberated from him.

669. In a psychological sense Mercurius represents the unconscious, for this is to all appearances that “spirit” which comes closest to organic matter and has all the paradoxical qualities attributed to Mercurius. In the unconscious are hidden those “sparks of light” (scintillae), the archetypes, from which a higher meaning can be “extracted.”112 The “magnet” that attracts the hidden thing is the self, or in this case the “theoria” or the symbol representing it, which the adept uses as an instrument.113 The extractio is depicted figuratively in an illustration in Reusner’s Pandora: a crowned figure, with a halo, raising a winged, fish-tailed, snake-armed creature (the spirit), likewise crowned with a halo, out of a lump of earth.114 This monster represents the spiritus mercurialis, the soul of the world or of matter freed from its fetters; the filius macrocosmi, the child of sun and moon born in the earth, the hermaphroditic homunculus, etc. Basically all these synonyms describe the inner man as a parallel or complement of Christ. The reader who seeks further information on this figure should refer to Psychology and Alchemy115 and Aion.116
670. Let us now turn to another ingredient of the mixture, namely the “rosemary flowers” (flores rosis marini). In the old pharmacopeia, rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis) was regarded as an antitoxin, presumably on symbolic grounds which may be connected with its curious name. Ros marinus (sea-dew) was for the alchemist a welcome analogy for the aqua permanens, which in its turn was Mercurius.117 But what lends rosemary its special significance is its sweet smell and taste. The “sweet odour” of the Holy Ghost occurs not only in Gnosticism but also in ecclesiastical language,118 and of course in alchemy—though here there are more frequent references to the characteristic stench of the underworld, the

odor sepulchrorum. Rosemary was often used in marriage customs and as a love philtre, and therefore had—for the alchemist—a binding power, which was of course particularly favourable for the purpose of conjunction.119 Thus the Holy Ghost is the “spiration” binding Father and Son, just as, in alchemy, he occasionally appears as the “ligament” of body and soul. These different aspects of rosemary signify so many qualities which are imparted to the mixture.

671. Mercurialis is a magic herb too, but unlike rosemary it is connected not with love but with sexuality, and is another “binding” power which, as we have mentioned, can even determine the sex of the child. The red lily, as the quintessence of sulphur (n. 85), represents the male partner in the alchemical marriage, the servus rubeus who unites with the foemina candida. With this figure the adept mixed himself into the potion, so to speak, and, to make the bond inviolable, he added human blood as a further ingredient. Being a “special juice” with which pacts with the devil are signed, it would magically consolidate the bond of marriage.
672. This peculiar mixture was then to be united with the “heaven of the red or white wine or of Tartarus.” The caelum or blue tincture, as we have seen, was concocted from the “phlegm” of the wine or sublimated from the “wine-stone.” Just as the phlegm is the residue, in the bottom of the vessel, of the evaporated wine, so Tartarus, the underworld and realm of the dead, is the sediment or precipitate of a once living world. In Khunrath, Sal tartarí mundi maioris is identical with sal Saturni and sal Veneris.120 It contains—or is—the “scintilla Animae Mundi.”121 Tartar is the sal sapientiae.122 Sal saturni refers to Kronos enchained in Tartarus. Plutarch identifies Typhon with Tartarus.123 This is in agreement with the malefic nature of Saturn. Sal tartari therefore has a sinister, underworldly nuance reminiscent of death and hell. Saturn (lead) is one of the best known synonyms for the prima materia, and hence is the matrix of the filius Philosophorum. This is the sought-for celestial substance, the caelum, etc.
673. What are we to think of this most peculiar philtre? Did Dorn really mean that these magic herbs should be mixed together and that the air- coloured quintessence should be distilled from the “Tartarus,” or was he using these secret names and procedures to express a moral meaning? My conjecture is that he meant both, for it is clear that the alchemists did in fact operate with such substances and thought-processes, just as, in

particular, the Paracelsist physicians used these remedies and reflections in their practical work. But if the adept really concocted such potions in his retort, he must surely have chosen his ingredients on account of their magical significance. He worked, accordingly, with ideas, with psychic processes and states, but referred to them under the name of the corresponding substances. With the honey the pleasure of the senses and the joy of life went into the mixture, as well as the secret fear of the “poison,” the deadly danger of worldly entanglements. With the Chelidonia the highest meaning and value, the self as the total personality, the healing and “whole-making” medicine which is recognized even by modern psychotherapy, was combined with spiritual and conjugal love, symbolized by rosemary; and, lest the lower, chthonic element be lacking, Mercurialis added sexuality, together with the red slave moved by passion,124 symbolized by the red lily, and the addition of blood threw in the whole soul. All this was united with the azure quintessence, the anima mundi extracted from inert matter, or the God-image imprinted on the world—a mandala produced by rotation;125 that is to say the whole of the conscious man is surrendered to the self, to the new centre of personality which replaces the former ego. Just as, for the mystic, Christ takes over the leadership of consciousness and puts an end to a merely ego-bound existence, so the filius macrocosmi, the son of the great luminaries and of the dark womb of the earth, enters the realm of the psyche and seizes the human personality, not only in the shining heights of consciousness but in the dark depths which have not yet comprehended the light that appeared in Christ. The alchemist was well aware of the great shadow which Christianity obviously had not assimilated, and he therefore felt impelled to create a saviour from the womb of the earth as an analogy and complement of God’s son who came down from above.

674. The production of the caelum is a symbolic rite performed in the laboratory. Its purpose was to create, in the form of a substance, that “truth,” the celestial balsam or life principle, which is identical with the God-image. Psychologically, it was a representation of the individuation process by means of chemical substances and procedures, or what we today call active imagination. This is a method which is used spontaneously by nature herself or can be taught to the patient by the analyst. As a rule it occurs when the analysis has constellated the opposites so powerfully that a union or synthesis of the personality becomes an

imperative necessity. Such a situation is bound to arise when the analysis of the psychic contents, of the patient’s attitude and particularly of his dreams, has brought the compensatory or complementary images from the unconscious so insistently before his mind that the conflict between the conscious and the unconscious personality becomes open and critical. When this confrontation is confined to partial aspects of the unconscious the conflict is limited and the solution simple: the patient, with insight and some resignation or a feeling of resentment, places himself on the side of reason and convention. Though the unconscious motifs are repressed again, as before, the unconscious is satisfied to a certain extent, because the patient must now make a conscious effort to live according to its principles and, in addition, is constantly reminded of the existence of the repressed by annoying resentments. But if his recognition of the shadow is as complete as he can make it, then conflict and disorientation ensue, an equally strong Yes and No which he can no longer keep apart by a rational decision. He cannot transform his clinical neurosis into the less conspicuous neurosis of cynicism; in other words, he can no longer hide the conflict behind a mask. It requires a real solution and necessitates a third thing in which the opposites can unite. Here the logic of the intellect usually fails, for in a logical antithesis there is no third. The “solvent” can only be of an irrational nature. In nature the resolution of opposites is always an energic process: she acts symbolically in the truest sense of the word,126 doing something that expresses both sides, just as a waterfall visibly mediates between above and below. The waterfall itself is then the incommensurable third. In an open and unresolved conflict dreams and fantasies occur which, like the waterfall, illustrate the tension and nature of the opposites, and thus prepare the synthesis.

675. This process can, as I have said, take place spontaneously or be artificially induced. In the latter case you choose a dream, or some other fantasy-image, and concentrate on it by simply catching hold of it and looking at it. You can also use a bad mood as a starting-point, and then try to find out what sort of fantasy-image it will produce, or what image expresses this mood. You then fix this image in the mind by concentrating your attention. Usually it will alter, as the mere fact of contemplating it animates it. The alterations must be carefully noted down all the time, for they reflect the psychic processes in the unconscious background, which appear in the form of images consisting of conscious memory material. In

this way conscious and unconscious are united, just as a waterfall connects above and below. A chain of fantasy ideas develops and gradually takes on a dramatic character: the passive process becomes an action. At first it consists of projected figures, and these images are observed like scenes in the theatre. In other words, you dream with open eyes. As a rule there is a marked tendency simply to enjoy this interior entertainment and to leave it at that. Then, of course, there is no real progress but only endless variations on the same theme, which is not the point of the exercise at all. What is enacted on the stage still remains a background process; it does not move the observer in any way, and the less it moves him the smaller will be the cathartic effect of this private theatre. The piece that is being played does not want merely to be watched impartially, it wants to compel his participation. If the observer understands that his own drama is being performed on this inner stage, he cannot remain indifferent to the plot and its dénouement. He will notice, as the actors appear one by one and the plot thickens, that they all have some purposeful relationship to his conscious situation, that he is being addressed by the unconscious, and that it causes these fantasy-images to appear before him. He therefore feels compelled, or is encouraged by his analyst, to take part in the play and, instead of just sitting in a theatre, really have it out with his alter ego. For nothing in us ever remains quite uncontradicted, and consciousness can take up no position which will not call up, somewhere in the dark corners of the psyche, a negation or a compensatory effect, approval or resentment. This process of coming to terms with the Other in us is well worth while, because in this way we get to know aspects of our nature which we would not allow anybody else to show us and which we ourselves would never have admitted.127 It is very important to fix this whole procedure in writing at the time of its occurrence, for you then have ocular evidence that will effectively counteract the ever-ready tendency to self-deception. A running commentary is absolutely necessary in dealing with the shadow, because otherwise its actuality cannot be fixed. Only in this painful way is it possible to gain a positive insight into the complex nature of one’s own personality.

6. SELF-KNOWLEDGE

676. Expressed in the language of Hermetic philosophy, the ego- personality’s coming to terms with its own background, the shadow, corresponds to the union of spirit and soul in the unio mentalis, which is the first stage of the coniunctio. What I call coming to terms with the unconscious the alchemists called “meditation.” Ruland says of this: “Meditation: The name of an Internal Talk of one person with another who is invisible, as in the invocation of the Deity, or communion with one’s self, or with one’s good angel.”128 This somewhat optimistic definition must immediately be qualified by a reference to the adept’s relations with his spiritus familiaris, who we can only hope was a good one. In this respect Mercurius is a rather unreliable companion, as the testimony of the alchemists agrees. In order to understand the second stage, the union of the unio mentalis with the body, psychologically, we must bear in mind what the psychic state resulting from a fairly complete recognition of the shadow looks like. The shadow, as we know, usually presents a fundamental contrast to the conscious personality. This contrast is the prerequisite for the difference of potential from which psychic energy arises. Without it, the necessary tension would be lacking. Where considerable psychic energy is at work, we must expect a corresponding tension and inner opposition. The opposites are necessarily of a characterological nature: the existence of a positive virtue implies victory over its opposite, the corresponding vice. Without its counterpart virtue would be pale, ineffective, and unreal. The extreme opposition of the shadow to consciousness is mitigated by complementary and compensatory processes in the unconscious. Their impact on consciousness finally produces the uniting symbols.
677. Confrontation with the shadow produces at first a dead balance, a standstill that hampers moral decisions and makes convictions ineffective or even impossible. Everything becomes doubtful, which is why the alchemists called this stage nigredo, tenebrositas, chaos, melancholia. It is right that the magnum opus should begin at this point, for it is indeed a well-nigh unanswerable question how one is to confront reality in this torn and divided state. Here I must remind the reader who is acquainted neither with alchemy nor with the psychology of the unconscious that nowadays one very seldom gets into such a situation. Nobody now has any sympathy with the perplexities of an investigator who busies himself with magical substances, and there are relatively few people who have experienced the

effects of an analysis of the unconscious on themselves, and almost nobody hits on the idea of using the objective hints given by dreams as a theme for meditation. If the ancient art of meditation is practised at all today, it is practised only in religious or philosophical circles, where a theme is subjectively chosen by the meditant or prescribed by an instructor, as in the Ignatian Exercitia or in certain theosophical exercises that developed under Indian influence. These methods are of value only for increasing concentration and consolidating consciousness, but have no significance as regards effecting a synthesis of the personality. On the contrary, their purpose is to shield consciousness from the unconscious and to suppress it. They are therefore of therapeutic value only in cases where the conscious is liable to be overwhelmed by the unconscious and there is the danger of a psychotic interval.

678. In general, meditation and contemplation have a bad reputation in the West. They are regarded as a particularly reprehensible form of idleness or as pathological narcissism. No one has time for self-knowledge or believes that it could serve any sensible purpose. Also, one knows in advance that it is not worth the trouble to know oneself, for any fool can know what he is. We believe exclusively in doing and do not ask about the doer, who is judged only by achievements that have collective value. The general public seems to have taken cognizance of the existence of the unconscious psyche more than the so-called experts, but still nobody has drawn any conclusions from the fact that Western man confronts himself as a stranger and that self-knowledge is one of the most difficult and exacting of the arts.
679. When meditation is concerned with the objective products of the unconscious that reach consciousness spontaneously, it unites the conscious with contents that proceed not from a conscious causal chain but from an essentially unconscious process. We cannot know what the unconscious psyche is, otherwise it would be conscious. We can only conjecture its existence, though there are good enough grounds for this. Part of the unconscious contents is projected, but the projection as such is not recognized. Meditation or critical introspection and objective investigation of the object are needed in order to establish the existence of projections. If the individual is to take stock of himself it is essential that his projections should be recognized, because they falsify the nature of the

object and besides this contain items which belong to his own personality and should be integrated with it. This is one of the most important phases in the wearisome process of self-knowledge. And since projections involve one in an inadmissible way in externalities, Dorn rightly recommends an almost ascetic attitude to the world, so that the soul may be freed from its involvement in the world of the body. Here only the “spirit” can help it, that is, the drive for knowledge of the self, on a plane beyond all the illusion and bemusement caused by projection.

680. The unio mentalis, then, in psychological as well as in alchemical language, means knowledge of oneself. In contradistinction to the modern prejudice that self-knowledge is nothing but a knowledge of the ego, the alchemists regarded the self as a substance incommensurable with the ego, hidden in the body, and identical with the image of God.129 This view fully accords with the Indian idea of purusha-atman.130 The psychic preparation of the magisterium as described by Dorn is therefore an attempt, uninfluenced by the East, to bring about a union of opposites in accordance with the great Eastern philosophies, and to establish for this purpose a principle freed from the opposites and similar to the atman or tao. Dorn called this the substantia coelestis, which today we would describe as a transcendental principle. This “unum” is nirdvandva (free from the opposites), like the atman (self).
681. Dorn did not invent this idea but merely gave clearer expression to what had long been secret knowledge in alchemy. Thus we read in the “Liber octo capitulorum de lapide philosophorum” of Albertus Magnus,131 with reference to quicksilver (Mercurius non vulgi, the philosophical mercury):

Quicksilver is cold and moist, and God created all minerals with it, and it itself is aerial, and volatile in the fire. But since it withstands the fire for some time, it will do great and wonderful works, and it alone is a living spirit, and in all the world there is nothing like it that can do such things as it can . . . It is the perennial water, the water of life, the virgin’s milk, the fount, the alumen,132 and [whoever] drinks of it shall not perish. When it is alive it does certain works, and when it is dead it does other and the greatest works. It is the serpent that rejoices in itself, impregnates itself, and gives birth in a single day, and slays all metals with its venom. It flees from the fire, but the sages by their art have

caused it to withstand the fire, by nourishing it with its own earth until it endured the fire, and then it performs works and transmutations. As it is transmuted, so it transmutes. . . . It is found in all minerals and has a “symbolum”133 with them all. But it arises midway between the earthly and the watery, or midway between [mediocriter]134 a subtle living oil and a very subtle spirit. From the watery part of the earth it has its weight and motion from above downwards, its brightness, fluidity, and silver hue. . . . But quicksilver is clearly seen to have a gross substance, like the Monocalus,135 which excels even gold in the heaviness of its immense weight.136 When it is in its nature137 it is of the strongest composition [fortissimae compositionis]138 and of uniform nature, since it is not divided [or: is indivisible]. It can in no way be separated into parts, because it either escapes from the fire with its whole substance or endures with it in the fire. For this reason the cause of perfection is necessarily seen in it.

682. Since Mercurius is the soul of the gold and of the silver, the conjunction of these two must be accomplished:

Our final secret consists in this, that one obtains the medicine which flows, before Mercurius evaporates. . . . There is no worthier or purer substance than the sun and its shadow the moon, without which no tincturing quicksilver can be produced. . . . He who understands, therefore, how to unite this with the sun or moon will obtain the arcanum, which is named the sulphur of the art.

683. Mercurius is the prima materia. This must be dissolved at the beginning of the work, and the dissolved bodies then transformed into “spirits.” The transformation is effected by putrefaction, which is synonymous with the nigredo, the grave, and death. The spirits are joined together as sponsus and sponsa.

Our stone is of watery nature, because it is cold and moist. For such a disposition of the body is considered obvious or manifest. But breadth is the middle [media] disposition whereby depth is attained. This is the medium between depth and breadth, as between two extremes or opposites, and the passage from one opposite to the other or from one extreme to the other is impossible save by a medium disposition. [This is possible] because the stone is by nature cold and moist.

Mercurius is not only the lapis as prima materia but the lapis as ultima materia, the goal of the opus. Hence Albertus cites Geber: “One is the stone, one the medicine, and therein lies the whole magistery.”

684. In these words Albertus Magnus, more than three hundred years earlier than Dorn, describes the celestial substance, the balsam of life, and the hidden truth. His description has roots that go still further back into Greek alchemy, but I cannot discuss this here. His account is sufficient for our purpose: it describes a transcendental substance characterized, as is only to be expected, by a large number of antinomies. Unequivocal statements can be made only in regard to immanent objects; transcendental ones can be expressed only by paradox. Thus, they are and they are not (that is to say, not to be found in our experience). Even the physicist is compelled by experience to make antinomian statements when he wants to give a concrete description of transcendental facts, such as the nature of light or of the smallest particles of matter, which he represents both as corpuscles and as waves. In the same way, the quicksilver is a material substance and at the same time a living spirit whose nature can be expressed by all manner of symbolic synonyms—though only, it is true, when it is made fire-resistant by artificial means. The quicksilver is a substance and yet not a substance, since, as a natural element, it does not resist fire and can do this only through the secret of art, thereby turning into a magical substance so wonderful that there is no prospect of our ever coming across it in reality. This clearly means that quicksilver is the symbol for a transcendental idea which is alleged to become manifest in it when the art has made it capable of resisting fire. It is also assumed that this occult quality is at least potentially present in Mercurius, since he is the prima materia of all metals and is found in all minerals. He is not only the initial material of the process but also its end-product, the lapis Philosophorum. Thus he is at the outset a significant exception among the metals and chemical elements. He is the primordial matter from which God created all material things. The change which the artifex proposes to induce in it consists, among other things, in giving it “immense weight” and indivisible wholeness. This strange statement assumes another aspect when we compare it with the modern view that matter consists of extraordinarily, indeed “immensely” heavy elementary corpuscles which in a certain sense are of “uniform nature” and apparently indivisible. They are the bricks nature builds with and they therefore contain everything that

nature contains, so that each of them represents the whole of the universe. From this point of view it almost seems as if Albertus Magnus had anticipated one of the greatest physical discoveries of our time. This, of course, would be to recognize only the physical truth of his intuition, but not the symbolic implications which were bound up with it in the medieval mind.

685. If we have hazarded a parallel between Albertus’s views and the discontinuity of protons and energy quanta, we are obliged to attempt another parallel in regard to the symbolical statements. These, as we have seen from Dorn (supra, sec. 3), refer to the psychological aspect of Mercurius. In order to avoid needless repetition, I must here refer the reader to my earlier investigations of Mercurius and the symbols of the self in alchemy. Anyone who knows the extraordinary importance of the concept of psychic wholeness in the practical as well as theoretical psychology of the unconscious will not be surprised to learn that Hermetic philosophy gave this idea, in the form of the lapis Philosophorum, pre- eminence over all other concepts and symbols. Dorn in particular made this abundantly and unequivocally clear, in which respect he has the authority of the oldest sources. It is not true that alchemy devised such an interpretation of the arcanum only at the end of the sixteenth century; on the contrary, the idea of the self affords the clue to the central symbols of the art in all centuries, in Europe, the Near East, and in China. Here again I must refer the reader to my previous works.139 Unfortunately it is not possible to exhaust the wealth of alchemical ideas in a single volume.
686. By introducing the modern concept of the self we can explain the paradoxes of Albertus without too much difficulty. Mercurius is matter and spirit; the self, as its symbolism proves, embraces the bodily sphere as well as the psychic. This fact is expressed particularly clearly in mandalas.140 Mercurius is also the “water,” which, as the text emphasizes, occupies a middle position between the volatile (air, fire) and the solid (earth), since it occurs in both liquid and gaseous form, and also as a solid in the form of ice. Mercurius shares his “aquaeositas” with water, since on the one hand he is a metal and amalgamates himself in solid form with other metals, and on the other hand is liquid and evaporable. The deeper reason why he is so frequently compared with water is that he unites in himself all those numinous qualities which water possesses. Thus, as the central arcanum,

the  or aqua permanens dominated alchemy from those remote times when it was still the holy and blessed water of the Nile until well into the eighteenth century. In the course of time, mainly under Gnostic- Hermetic influence, it took on the significance of the Nous, with which the divine krater was filled so that those mortals who wished to attain consciousness could renew themselves in this baptismal bath; later it signified the aqua doctrinae and a wonder-working magical water. Its very ancient identification with hydrargyrum, quicksilver, drew the whole Hermes Trismegistus tradition into the immemorially numinous sphere of the water’s significance. This could happen all the more easily since its maternal aspect as the matrix and “nurse of all things” makes it an unsurpassable analogy of the unconscious. In this way the idea of the “water” could gradually develop into the tremendous paradox of Mercurius, who, as the “age-old son of the mother,” is the Hermetic spirit, and, as a chemical substance, a magically prepared quicksilver.

687. The “serpent rejoicing in itself” (luxurians in se ipso) is the Democritean physis (natura) “which embraces itself”141 and is symbolized by the uroboros of Greek alchemy, a well-known emblem of Mercurius. It is the symbol of the union of opposites par excellence and an alchemical version of the proverb: les extrêmes se touchent. The uroboros symbolizes the goal of the process but not the beginning, the massa confusa or chaos, for this is characterized not by the union of the elements but by their conflict. The expression “giving birth in a single day” (in uno die parturiens) likewise refers to Mercurius, since he (in the form of the lapis) was named the “son of one day.”142 This name refers to the creation of light in Genesis 1 : 5: “And there was evening and morning, one day.” As the “son of one day,” therefore, Mercurius is light. Hence he is praised as the lux moderna and a light above all lights.143 He is thus Sunday’s child (born on the day of the sun), just as the planet Mercury is the nearest to the sun and was accounted its child. St. Bonaventure (1221–74) also speaks of the one day in his Itinerarium, where he discusses the three stages of illumination (triplex illustratio). The first stage consists in giving up the bodily and the temporal in order to attain the “first principle,” which is spiritual and eternal and “above us”:

We must enter into our mind [mentem], which is the eternal spiritual image of God within us, and this is to enter into the truth of the Lord; we

must pass beyond ourselves to the eternal and preeminently spiritual, and to that which is above us . . . this is the threefold illumination of the one day.144

The “one day” is the day on which light appeared over the darkness. I cite this passage not only for that reason but as a parallel to the three stages of conjunction in Dorn, which obviously originated in the exercises for spiritual contemplation in the early Middle Ages. The parallel is clearly discernible: first the turning away from the world of sense, then the turning towards the inner world of the mind and the hidden celestial substance, the image and truth of God, and finally the contemplation of the transcendental unus mundus, the potential world outside time, of which we shall have more to say below. But first we examine more closely Albertus’s statements on the nature of the quicksilver.

688. The middle position ascribed to Mercurius provokes Albertus to a remarkable reflection: it seems to him that the concept of breadth (latitudo) expresses the “middle disposition” whereby depth can be attained. This disposition is the “medium between depth and breadth” (media est inter profunditatem et latitudinem), as between two extremes or opposites (contraria). The idea at the back of his mind is obviously that of a cross, for height is the complement of depth.145 This would indicate the quaternity, a symbol of Mercurius quadratus, who, in the form of the lapis, consists of the four elements.146 He thus forms the mid-point of the cosmic quaternity and represents the quinta essentia, the oneness and essence of the physical world, i.e., the anima mundi. As I have shown elsewhere, this symbol corresponds to the modern representations of the self.

7. THE MONOCOLUS

689. Evidently in order to emphasize the unity of Mercurius, Albertus makes use of the expression “monocolus” (as is probably the right reading), or “uniped.” It seems to me that this must be an alchemical

,147 for I have found it nowhere else in the literature. The alchemist’s use of a rare or strange word generally served to emphasize the extraordinary nature of the object expressed by it. (As we know, with this trick one can also make banalities appear unusual.) Even though the word

“monocolus” appears to be unique, the image is not, for the uniped occurs in several illustrated alchemical manuscripts, for instance in the aforementioned Paris codex (Fr. 14765) entitled “Abraham le Juif.”148 As the title shows, this presumably purported to be, or was intended to replace, the zealously sought “Rindenbuch” of the same author, of which Nicholas Flamel gives an account in his autobiography and whose loss the alchemists so deeply deplored. Though this mythical work was never found, it was reinvented in Germany;149 but this forgery has nothing to do with our manuscript. On page 324 of the manuscript we find the first in a series of pictures of unipeds (cf. PI. 4). On the left there is a crowned man in a yellow robe, and on the right a priest in a white robe with a mitre. Each of them has only one foot. The inscription under the picture begins with the sign for Mercurius () and runs: “There they make but one.” This refers to the preceding text, “For there is but one single thing, one medicine, and in it all our magistery consists; there are but two coadjutors who are made perfect here.”150 The subject is obviously Mercurius duplex. In my chapter on Sulphur I have pointed out that it, especially in its red form, is identical with gold, the latter being generally regarded as “rex.” The red sceptre of the king might be an allusion to this. There is, as I have shown, a red and a white sulphur, so it too is duplex and identical with Mercurius. Red sulphur stands for the masculine, active principle of the sun, the white for that of the moon. As sulphur is generally masculine by nature and forms the counterpart of the feminine salt, the two figures probably signify the spirits of the arcane substance, which is often called rex, as in Bernardus Trevisanus.

690. This curious separation or union of the figures occurs several times in the manuscript. In the next picture (Pl. 5), on page 331, the king on the left has a blue robe and a black foot, and the one on the right a black robe and a blue foot. Both the sceptres are red. The inscription runs: “Thus is it done, that what was hid may be revealed.”151 This refers, as the preceding text makes clear, to the nigredo which is about to ensue. The nigredo signifies the mortificatio, putrefactio, solutio, separatio, divisio, etc., a state of dissolution and decomposition that precedes the synthesis. This picture is followed by one showing the two figures separated, each with two feet. The figure on the left wears the spiritual crown and the one on the right the temporal, corresponding to the occult-spiritual and earthly- corporeal nature of sulphur. The figure on the left wears a robe whose right

half is blue and the left black, the one on the right the reverse. They thus complement one another. The text explains: “The colours of the 9th year and ½ this month of January 1772 are represented by these two figures. Likewise by the mortification of our natural  and of the dead water reduced to another form.” The inscription under the picture runs: “A very long time, and by putrefaction, calcination, incineration, fixation, and coagulation the materials become solid, but this comes to pass naturally after a very long time.”

691. This probably refers to the completion of the nigredo after a period of pregnancy, i.e., to the complete separation of Mercurius or the two sulphurs, or of their bodily and spiritual natures, corresponding to Dorn’s extraction of the soul from the body and the production of the unio mentalis. According to the picture, the one figure, as regards its colours, is the mirror-image of the other. This indicates a relationship of complementarity between physis and spirit, so that the one reflects the other.152 That, too, is probably the meaning of the “manifestation of the hidden”: through the unio mentalis that which is hidden in physis by projection is made conscious. In the nigredo, the “dark night of the soul,” the psychic contents free themselves from their attachment to the body, and the nature and meaning of this connection are recognized.
692. In the next picture (p. 335) the two figures are united again (Pl. 6). Their colours and other attributes are the same. Each figure has only one blue foot. The inscription runs: “Wherefore saith the Philosopher: He obtaineth the Art who can manifest that which is hidden, and conceal that which is manifest.” And underneath: “Hic artem digne est consecutus” (Here is the art worthily followed, or: This man worthily followed the art), and: “The blue colour after the yellow which will lead to the complete blackness or putrefaction after a very long time.”
693. On page 337 the (spiritual) king from the previous picture is joined to a similarly crowned queen (Pl. 7). He wears a black upper garment and a blue under garment. His crown has a black rim, but the mitre-like part is gold, as in the previous picture. He has one blue foot tipped with black, as if he had dipped it in black paint. The green-clad queen has her hand in his left sleeve, presumably indicating that she takes the place of the left— worldly or bodily—half of the king and appears as his “better half,” so to speak. Her feet are black. The text runs: “There comes about an inconstant

fixation, then after a little the soft hardens. The watery becomes earthy and dry; thus a change of nature is made from one to the other; and a single colour in the form of a black Raven, and the  [sulphur] of the male  and of the female, have become of the same nature.” The inscription says: “Take therefore in God’s almighty name this black earth, reduce it very subtly and it will become like the head of a Raven.” As if explaining the caput corvi the text remarks that the “Silène endormy” is bound by the shepherds with garlands of flowers in all colours of the rainbow and, after quaffing his wine, says: “I laugh at my bond. So say the philosophers that when the blackness appears one must rejoice.”153 The text adds that Troy was reduced to ashes after ten years of siege.

694. This picture represents the union of the monocolus with the earth (the body). As the sulphur of the male Mercurius he is a very active power,154 for he is the red sulphur of the gold or the active principle of the sun. The king in the saffron-yellow robe was originally gold and the sun but has now become totally black—the sol ni’ger—and even his blue robe, signifying heaven, is covered with a black one.155 Only the top of his crown displays the solar gold. Dame Earth wears the same crown (only it is all gold) and thus reveals that her nature is equivalent to his: both are sulphur. One could call the sulphur of the king the “spirit,” which, hiding its light in the darkness, unites with the queen.
695. This earth is of a watery nature, corresponding to Genesis 1 : 2 and 6: “And the earth was without form, and void. . . . And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. . . . And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters …” In this way heaven can embrace the sea instead of the earth. We may recall the myth of Isis and Osiris: Isis copulated with the spirit of the dead Osiris, and from this union sprang the god of the mysteries, Harpocrates. Osiris plays a certain role in the ancient alchemical texts: the brother/sister or mother/son pair are sometimes called Isis and Osiris.156 In Olympiodorus157 Osiris is lead, as arcane substance, and the principle of moisture;158 in Firmicus Maternus he is the life-principle.159 The alchemical interpretation of him as Mercurius has its parallel in the Naassene comparison of Osiris to Hermes.160 Like the latter, he was represented ithyphallically, and this is significant in regard to the monocolus.161 He is the dying and resurgent God-man and hence a parallel to Christ. He is of a blackish colour ()162 and was therefore called

Aithiops,163 in Christian usage the devil,164 and in alchemical language the prima materia.165 This antithesis is characteristic of Mercurius duplex. Wine as the blood of Osiris occurs in the ancient magical texts.166 In the Egyptian texts Osiris had a sun-and-moon nature, and was therefore hermaphroditic like Mercurius.167

696. Corvus (crow or raven) or caput corvi (raven’s head) is the traditional name for the nigredo (nox, melancholia, etc.). It can also, as pars pro toto, mean a “capital” thing or “principle,” as for instance the caput mortuum, which originally meant the head of the black Osiris,168 but later Mercurius philosophorum, who, like him, undergoes death and resurrection and transformation into an incorruptible state. Thus the anonymous author of the “Novum lumen chemicum” exclaims: “O our heaven! O our water and our Mercurius! O dead head or dregs of our sea! . . . And these are the epithets of the bird of Hermes,169 which never rests.”170 This bird of Hermes is the raven, of which it is said: “And know that the head of the art is the raven, who flies without wings in the blackness of the night and the brightness of the day.”171 He is a restless, unsleeping spirit, “our aerial and volatile stone,” a being of contradictory nature.172 He is the “heaven” and at the same time the “scum of the sea.” Since he is also called “water,” one thinks of rain-water, which comes from the sea and falls from heaven. As a matter of fact the idea of clouds, rain, and dew is often found in the texts and is extremely ancient.173 A papyrus text says: “I am the mother of the gods, named heaven; I am Osiris, named water; I am Isis, named dew; . . . I am Eidolos, likened to the true spirits.” Thus speaks a magician who wishes to conjure up his familiar: he himself is a spirit and thus akin to the bird of the night. In Christian tradition the raven is an allegory of the devil.174
697. Here we encounter the primitive archetypal form of spirit, which, as I have shown,175 is ambivalent. This ambivalence or antagonism also appears in the ancient Egyptian pair of brothers, Osiris and Set, and in the Ebionite opposition of Christ and Satan. The night raven (nycticorax) is an allegory of Christ.176
698. Nowadays the caput mortuum, or colcothar, denotes “the brownish- red peroxide of iron which remains in the retort after the distillation of sulphuric acid from iron sulphate,”177 whereas the caput Osiridis was black and was therefore called caput  corvi.  The  “Aquarium  sapientum”

compares it with Christ, whose “visage was so marred more than any man” (Isaiah 52 : 14).178 The blackening usually took forty days, corresponding to the forty days between Easter and Ascension, or Christ’s forty days’ fast in the wilderness, or the forty-year wanderings of the Jews in the desert.179 In the heat of the nigredo the “anima media natura holds dominion.” The old philosophers called this blackness the Raven’s Head or black sun.180 The anima media natura corresponds to the Platonic world-soul and the Wisdom of the Old Testament.181 In this state the sun is surrounded by the anima media natura and is therefore black. It is a state of incubation or pregnancy. Great importance was attached to the blackness as the starting point of the work.182 Generally it was called the “Raven.”183 In our context the interpretation of the nigredo as terra (earth)184 is significant. Like the anima media natura or Wisdom, earth is in principle feminine. It is the earth which, in Genesis, appeared out of the waters,185 but it is also the “terra damnata.”186

699. The caput mortuum or caput corvi is the head of the black Osiris or Ethiopian, and also of the “Moor” in the Chymical Wedding.187 The head was boiled in a pot and the broth poured into a golden ball. This gives us the connection with the “golden head” of the Greek alchemy, discussed earlier. The Moor in the Chymical Wedding is probably identical with the black executioner mentioned there, who decapitates the royal personages. In the end his own head is struck off.188 In the further course of events a black bird is beheaded.189 Beheading is significant symbolically as the separation of the “understanding” from the “great suffering and grief” which nature inflicts on the soul. It is an emancipation of the “cogitatio” which is situated in the head, a freeing of the soul from the “trammels of nature.”190 Its purpose is to bring about, as in Dorn, a unio mentalis “in the overcoming of the body.”
700. The Moor or Ethiopian is the black, sinful man, whom St. Hilary (d. 367) compared to the raven. (“The raven made in the form of the sinner.”191) In the Chymical Wedding there is a black king, and in Schema XXIV Mylius represents the relation of king and queen under the symbol of two ravens fighting.192 Just as the raven symbolizes man’s black soul, so the caput corvi represents the head or skull (testa capitis), which in Sabaean alchemy served as the vessel of transformation.193 The Sabaeans were suspected of magical practices that presupposed the killing of a man.

The “brain-pan or head of the element Man” therefore has a somewhat sinister aspect: they needed a human skull because it contained the brain and this was the seat of the understanding. “And the understanding exists in that organ, because it rules the soul and assists her liberation.” 194 “The corpus rotundum built the skull about itself as a stronghold, girt itself with this armour, and opened windows in it,” i.e., the five senses. But the corpus rotundum, “the living being, the form of forms and the genus of genera, is man.”195 The “rotundum”196 obviously refers not to the empirical but to the “round” or whole man, the . “Afterwards he drew the soul to the higher world, that he might give her freedom. The higher world has always an effect in man, which consists in the perfect inspiration of man at his death; nor shall he fail to reach the firmament, until that which proceeded from the higher world returns to its place.”197 The higher world is the “world of worlds,” obviously the mundus potentialis of Dorn, who was inspired by this text as his use of the ideas of the stronghold (castrum sapientiae)198 and of the “window” (spiraculum vitae aeternae) shows.

701. The round vessel or stronghold is the skull. “The divine organ,” says the “Liber quartorum,” “is the head, for it is the abode of the divine part, namely the soul.” That is why the philosopher must “surround this organ with greater care than other organs.” Because of its roundness, “it attracts the firmament and is by it attracted; and it is attracted in similar manner by the attracter, until the attraction reaches its end in the understanding. Man is worthier than the beasts and closer to the simple, and this on account of his understanding.” The simple (simplex or res simplex) is the One,199 the natura caelestis of Dorn, the round and perfect, the firmament or heaven in man.200 “Plato is of the opinion that the man whose righteousness is the greatest attains to the bountiful [largam] upper substance when he is assimilated by his work to the highest place.”201 This shows us how the production of the caelum attracts the starry firmament and the influences (or spirits) of the planets into the Microcosm, just as by the same operation man is likened to the “upper substance,” the anima mundi or res simplex or the “One.”
702. In the nigredo the brain turns black. Thus a Hermes recipe cited in the Rosarium says: “Take the brain . . . grind it up with very strong vinegar, or with boys’ urine,202 until it turns black.”203 The darkening or benightedness

is at the same time a psychic state which, as we have seen, was called melancholia. In the “Aurelia occulta” there is a passage where the transformative substance in the nigredo state says of itself (cf. Pl. 10):

I am an infirm and weak old man, surnamed the dragon; therefore am I shut up in a cave, that I may be ransomed by the kingly crown    A

fiery sword inflicts great torments upon me; death makes weak my flesh and bones. . . . My soul and my spirit depart; a terrible poison, I am likened to the black raven, for that is the wages of sin; in dust and earth I lie, that out of Three may come One. O soul and spirit, leave me not, that I may see again the light of day, and the hero of peace whom the whole world shall behold may arise from me.204

*  *  *

703. What our Abraham le Juif text says about the royal persons sounds like a mythologem: the sun, the king of the blue sky, descends to earth and it becomes night; he then unites with his wife, the earth or sea. The primordial image of Uranos and Gaia may well be the background of this picture. Similarly, in connection with the raven205 as the name for this situation, we must consider the creative night mentioned in an Orphic hymn, which calls it a bird with black wings that was fertilized by the wind (pneuma). The product of this union was the silver egg, which in the Orphic view contained heaven above and earth below, and was therefore a cosmos in itself, i.e., the Microcosm. In alchemy it is the philosophical egg. The French alchemists of the eighteenth century were familiar with the king, the hot, red sulphur of the gold, and called it Osiris; the moist (aquosum) they called Isis. Osiris was “the fire hidden in nature, the igneous principle . . . which animates all things”;206 Isis was “the passive and material principle of all things.” The dismemberment of Osiris corresponded to the solutio, putrejactio, etc. Of this Dom Pernety,207 the source for these statements, says: “The solution of the body is the coagulation of the spirit.” The blackness pertains to Isis. (Apuleius says she was clad in a “shining robe of the deepest black.”) If heaven or the sun incline to her they are covered in her blackness.
704. The relation of alchemical fantasies to the primordial images of Greek mythology is too well known for me to document it. The cosmogonic brother-sister incest,208 like the Creation itself, had been from ancient times

the prototype of the alchemists’ great work. Yet we seek the Graeco- Roman tradition in vain for traces of the wonder-working monocolus. We find him, perhaps, in Vedic mythology, and in a form that is highly significant for our context, namely, as an attribute of the sun-god Rohita209 (red sun), who was called the “one-footed goat”210 (agá ékapada). In Hymn XIII, i of the Atharva-veda he is praised together with his wife Rohini. Of her it says: “Rise up, O steed, that art within the waters,” and “The steed that is within the waters is risen up.”211 The hymn begins with this invocation to Rohini, who is thereby united with Rohita after he has climbed to his highest place in heaven. The parallel with our French text is so striking that one would have to infer its literary dependence if there were any way of proving that the author was acquainted with the Atharva- veda. This proof is next to impossible, as Indian literature was not known in the West at all until the turn of the eighteenth century, and then only in the form of the Oupnek’hat of Anquetil du Perron,212 a collection of Upanishads in Persian which he translated into Latin.213 The Atharva-veda was translated only in the second half of the nineteenth century.214 If we wish to explain the parallel at all we have to infer an archetypal connection.

705. From all this it appears that our picture represents the union of the spirit with material reality. It is not the common gold that enters into combination but the spirit of the gold, only the right half of the king, so to speak. The queen is a sulphur, like him an extract or spirit of earth or water, and therefore a chthonic spirit. The “male” spirit corresponds to Dorn’s substantia coelestis, that is, to knowledge of the inner light—the self or imago Dei which is here united with its chthonic counterpart, the feminine spirit of the unconscious. Empirically this is personified in the psychological anima figure, who is not to be confused with the “anima” of our mediaeval philosophers, which was merely a philosophical anima vegetativa, the “ligament” of body and spirit. It is, rather, the alchemical queen who corresponds to the psychological anima.215 Accordingly, the coniunctio appears here as the union of a consciousness (spirit), differentiated by self-knowledge, with a spirit abstracted from previously unconscious contents. One could also regard the latter as a quintessence of fantasy-images that enter consciousness either spontaneously or through active imagination and, in their totality, represent a moral or intellectual viewpoint contrasting with, or compensating, that of consciousness. To

begin with, however, these images are anything but “moral” or “intellectual”; they are more or less concrete visualizations that first have to be interpreted. The alchemist used them more as technical terms for expressing the mysterious properties which he attributed to his chemical substances. The psychologist, on the contrary, regards them not as allegories but as genuine symbols pointing to psychic contents that are not known but are merely suspected in the background, to the impulses and “idées forces” of the unconscious. He starts from the fact that connections which are not based on sense-experience derive from fantasy creations which in turn have psychic causes. These causes cannot be perceived directly but are discovered only by deduction. In this work the psychologist has the support of modern fantasy material. It is produced in abundance in psychoses, dreams, and in active imagination during treatment, and it makes accurate investigation possible because the author of the fantasies can always be questioned. In this way the psychic causes can be established. The images often show such a striking resemblance to mythological motifs that one cannot help regarding the causes of the individual fantasies as identical with those that determined the collective and mythological images. In other words, there is no ground for the assumption that human beings in other epochs produced fantasies for quite different reasons, or that their fantasy images sprang from quite different idées forces, from ours. It can be ascertained with reasonable certainty from the literary records of the past that at least the universal human facts were felt and thought about in very much the same way at all times. Were this not so, all intelligent historiography and all understanding of historical texts would be impossible. Naturally there are differences, which make caution necessary in all cases, but these differences are mostly on the surface only and lose their significance the more deeply one penetrates into the meaning of the fundamental motifs.

706. Thus, the language of the alchemists is at first sight very different from our psychological terminology and way of thinking. But if we treat their symbols in the same way as we treat modern fantasies, they yield a meaning such as we have already deduced from the problematical modern material. The obvious objection that the meaning conveyed by the modern fantasy-material has been uncritically transferred to the historical material, which the alchemists interpreted quite differently, is disproved by the fact that even in the Middle Ages confessed alchemists interpreted their

symbols in a moral and philosophical sense. Their “philosophy” was, indeed, nothing but projected psychology. For as we have said, their ignorance of the real nature of chemical matter favoured the tendency to projection. Never do human beings speculate more, or have more opinions, than about things which they do not understand.

8. THE CONTENT AND MEANING OF THE FIRST TWO STAGES

707. I would like to impress on the reader that the following discussion, far from being a digression, is needed in order to bring a little clarity into what seems a very confused situation. This situation arose because, for the purpose of amplification, we commented on three symbolic texts ranging over a period of more than five hundred years, namely those of Albertus Magnus, Gerard Dorn, and an anonymous author of the eighteenth century. These three authors were concerned, each in his own way, with the central events and figures of the magistery. One could, of course, adduce yet other descriptions of the mysterious process of conjunction, but that would only make the confusion worse. For the purpose of disentangling the fine-spun web of alchemical fantasy these three texts are sufficient.
708. If Dorn, then, speaks of freeing the soul from the fetters of the body, he is expressing in rather different language what Albertus Magnus describes as the preparation or transformation of the quicksilver, or what our unknown author depicts as the splitting of the king in the yellow robe. The arcane substance is meant in all three cases. Hence we immediately find ourselves in darkness, in the nigredo, for the arcanum, the mystery, is dark. If, following Dorn’s illuminating hints, we interpret the freeing of the soul from the fetters of the body as a withdrawal of the naive projections by which we have moulded both the reality around us and the image of our own character, we arrive on the one hand at a cognitio sui ipsius, self- knowledge, but on the other hand at a realistic and more or less non- illusory view of the outside world. This stripping off of the veils of illusion is felt as distressing and even painful. In practical treatment this phase demands much patience and tact, for the unmasking of reality is as a rule not only difficult but very often dangerous. The illusions would not be so common if they did not serve some purpose and occasionally cover up a painful spot with a wholesome darkness which one hopes will never be

illuminated. Self-knowledge is not an isolated process; it is possible only if the reality of the world around us is recognized at the same time. Nobody can know himself and differentiate himself from his neighbour if he has a distorted picture of him, just as no one can understand his neighbour if he had no relationship to himself. The one conditions the other and the two processes go hand in hand.

709. I cannot describe the process of self-knowledge here in all its details. But if the reader wishes to form some idea of it, I would draw his attention to the wide variety of infantile assumptions and attachments which play a great role not only in psychopathology but in so-called normal life, and which cause endless complications in every sphere of human existence. Freud’s lasting achievement in this field suffers only from the defect that, from the insights gained, a theory was prematurely abstracted which was then used as a criterion of self-knowledge: projections were recognized and corrected only so far as they were assumed to correspond to known infantile fantasies. That there are many other kinds of illusion is mentioned hardly at all in the literature, and for just that reason. As we have seen from Dorn, there are very many important things which are posited as self- evident and which do not exist, such as the alchemist’s assumption that certain substances have magical qualities which in fact are projections of fantasy. The progressive correction of these brings us, however, to a frontier which at first cannot be crossed. As a rule it is set up by the spirit of the age with its specific conception of truth, and by the state of scientific knowledge prevailing at the time.
710. Self-knowledge is an adventure that carries us unexpectedly far and deep. Even a moderately comprehensive knowledge of the shadow can cause a good deal of confusion and mental darkness, since it gives rise to personality problems which one had never remotely imagined before. For this reason alone we can into its former bondage and everything would have been as before. The volatile essence so carefully shut up and preserved in the Hermetic vessel of the unio mentalis could not be left to itself for a moment, because this elusive Mercurius would then escape and return to its former nature, as, according to the testimony of the alchemists, not infrequently happened. The direct and natural way would have been to give the soul its head, since we are told that it always inclines to the body. Being more attached to this than to the spirit, it would separate itself from

the latter and slip back into its former unconsciousness without taking with it anything of the light of the spirit into the darkness of the body. For this reason the reunion with the body was something of a problem. Psychologically, it would mean that the insight gained by the withdrawal of projections could not stand the clash with reality and, consequently, that its truth could not be realized in fact, at least not to the desired degree or in the desired way. You can, as you know, forcibly apply the ideals you regard as right with an effort of will, and can do so for a certain length of time and up to a certain point, that is, until signs of fatigue appear and the original enthusiasm wanes. Then free will becomes a cramp of the will, and the life that has been suppressed forces its way into the open through all the cracks. That, unfortunately, is the lot of all merely rational resolutions.

711. Since earliest times, therefore, men have had recourse in such situations to artificial aids, ritual actions such as dances, sacrifices, identification with ancestral spirits, etc., in the obvious attempt to conjure up or reawaken those deeper layers of the psyche which the light of reason and the power of the will can never reach, and to bring them back to memory. For this purpose they used mythological or archetypal ideas which expressed the unconscious. So it has remained to the present time, when the day of the believer begins and ends with prayer, that is, with a rite d’entrée et de sortie. This exercise fulfils its purpose pretty well. If it did not, it would long since have fallen into disuse. If ever it lost its efficacy to any great extent, it was always in individuals or social groups for whom the archetypal ideas have become ineffective. Though such ideas or “représentations collectives” are always true in so far as they express the unconscious archetype, their verbal and pictorial form is greatly influenced by the spirit of the age. If this changes, whether by contact with understand why the alchemists called their nigredo melancholia, “a black blacker than black,” night, an affliction of the soul, confusion, etc., or, more pointedly, the “black raven.” For us the raven seems only a funny allegory, but for the medieval adept it was, as we have said, a well-known allegory of the devil.216 Correctly assessing the psychic danger in which he stood, it was therefore of the utmost importance for him to have a favourable familiar as a helper in his work, and at the same time to devote himself diligently to the spiritual exercise of prayer; all this in order to meet  effectively  the  consequences  of  the  collision  between  his

consciousness and the darkness of the shadow. Even for modern psychology the confrontation with the shadow is not a harmless affair, and for this reason it is often circumvented with cunning and caution. Rather than face one’s own darkness, one contents oneself with the illusion of one’s civic rectitude. Certainly most of the alchemists handled their nigredo in the retort without knowing what it was they were dealing with. But it is equally certain that adepts like Morienus, Dorn, Michael Maier, and others knew in their way what they were doing. It was this knowledge, and not their greed for gold, that kept them labouring at the apparently hopeless opus, for which they sacrificed their money, their goods, and their life.

712. Their “spirit” was their own belief in the light—a spirit which drew the soul to itself from its imprisonment in the body; but the soul brought with it the darkness of the chthonic spirit, the unconscious. The separation was so important because the dark deeds of the soul had to be checked. The unio mentalis signified, therefore, an extension of consciousness and the governance of the soul’s motions by the spirit of truth. But since the soul made the body to live and was the principle of all realization, the philosophers could not but see that after the separation the body and its world were dead.217 They therefore called this state the grave, corruption, mortification, and so on, and the problem then arose of reanimation, that is, of reuniting the soul with the “inanimate” body. Had they brought about this reanimation in a direct way, the soul would simply have snapped back a foreign and possibly more advanced civilization, or through an expansion of consciousness brought about by new discoveries and new knowledge, then the rite loses its meaning and degenerates into mere superstition. Examples of this on a grand scale are the extinction of the ancient Egyptian civilization and the dying out of the gods of Greece and Rome. A similar phenomenon can be observed in China today.
713. The demand that arises under such conditions is for a new interpretation, in accord with the spirit of the age, of the archetypes that compensate the altered situation of consciousness. Christianity, for instance, was a new and more suitable formulation of the archetypal myth, which in its turn gave the rite its vitality. The archetype is a living idea that constantly produces new interpretations through which that idea unfolds. This  was  correctly  recognized  by  Cardinal  Newman  in  regard  to

Christianity.218 Christian doctrine is a new interpretation and development of its earlier stages, as we can see very clearly from the ancient tradition of the God-man. This tradition is continued in the unfolding of ecclesiastical dogma, and it is naturally not only the archetypes mentioned in the canonical writings of the New Testament that develop, but also their near relatives, of which we previously knew only the pagan forerunners. An example of this is the newest dogma concerning the Virgin; it refers unquestionably to the mother goddess who was constantly associated with the young dying son. She is not even purely pagan, since she was very distinctly prefigured in the Sophia of the Old Testament. For this reason the definition of the new dogma does not really go beyond the depositum fidei, for the mother goddess is naturally implied in the archetype of the divine son and accordingly underwent a consistent development in the course of the centuries.219 The depositum fidei corresponds in empirical reality to the treasure-house of the archetypes, the “gazophylacium” of the alchemists, and the collective unconscious of modern psychology.

714. The objection raised by theologians that the final state of the dogma in any such development would be necessarily more complete or perfect than in the apostolic era is untenable. Obviously the later interpretation and formulation of the archetype will be much more differentiated than in the beginning. A glance at the history of dogma is sufficient to confirm this. One has only to think of the Trinity, for which there is no direct evidence in the canonical writings. But it does not follow from this that the primitive Christians had a less complete knowledge of the fundamental truths. Such an assumption borders on pernicious intellectualism, for what counts in religious experience is not how explicitly an archetype can be formulated but how much I am gripped by it. The least important thing is what I think about it.220
715. The “living idea” is always perfect and always numinous. Human formulation adds nothing and takes away nothing, for the archetype is autonomous and the only question is whether a man is gripped by it or not. If he can formulate it more or less, then he can more easily integrate it with consciousness, talk about it more reasonably and explain its meaning a bit more rationally. But he does not possess it more or in a more perfect way than the man who cannot formulate his “possession.” Intellectual formulation becomes important only when the memory of the original

experience threatens to disappear, or when its irrationality seems inapprehensible by consciousness. It is an auxiliary only, not an essential.

716. Christianity, to return to our previous argument, was “a unio mentalis in the overcoming of the body.” In just this respect the rite fulfilled its purpose, so far as that is possible for fallible human beings. Ancient man’s sensuous delight in the body and in nature did not disappear in the process, but found free play in the long list of sins which has never at any time diminished in scope. His knowledge of nature, however, presents a special problem. Ever since antiquity it had flourished only in secret and among the few, but it handed down certain basic conceptions through the centuries and, in the later Middle Ages, fertilized man’s reawakened interest in natural bodies. Had the alchemists not had at least a secret premonition that their Christian unio mentalis had not yet realized the union with the world of the body, their almost mystical thirst for knowledge would scarcely be explicable, let alone the symbolism, rivalling that of Christianity, which began to develop already at the end of the thirteenth century. The Christ-lapis parallel shows more clearly than anything else that the world of natural bodies laid claim to equality and hence to realization in the second stage of the coniunctio.
717. This raised the question of the way in which the coniunctio could be effected. Dorn answered this by proposing, instead of an overcoming of the body, the typical alchemical process of the separatio, solutio, incineratio, sublimatio, etc. of the red or white wine, the purpose of this procedure being to produce a physical equivalent of the substantia coelestis, recognized by the spirit as the truth and as the image of God innate in man. Whatever names the alchemists gave to the mysterious substance they sought to produce, it was always a celestial substance, i.e., something transcendental, which, in contrast to the perishability of all known matter, was incorruptible, inert as a metal or a stone, and yet alive, like an organic being, and at the same time a universal medicament. Such a “body” was quite obviously not to be met with in experience. The tenacity with which the adepts pursued this goal for at least seventeen hundred years can be explained only by the numinosity of this idea. And we do indeed find, even in the ancient alchemy of Zosimos, clear indications of the archetype of the Anthropos,221 as I have shown in Psychology and Alchemy; an image that pervades the whole of alchemy down to the figure

of the homunculus in Faust. The idea of the Anthropos springs from the notion of an original state of universal animation, for which reason the old Masters interpreted their Mercurius as the anima mundi; and just as the original animation could be found in all matter, so too could the anima mundi. It was imprinted on all bodies as their raison d’être, as an image of the demiurge who incarnated in his own creation and got caught in it. Nothing was easier than to identify this anima mundi with the Biblical imago Dei, which represented the truth revealed to the spirit. For the early thinkers the soul was by no means a merely intellectual concept; it was visualized sensuously as a breath-body or a volatile but physical substance which, it was readily supposed, could be chemically extracted and “fixed” by means of a suitable procedure. This intention was served by the preparation of the phlegma vini. As I pointed out earlier, this was not the spirit and water of the wine but its solid residue, the chthonic and corporeal part which would not ordinarily be regarded as the essential and valuable thing about the wine.

718. What the alchemist sought, then, to help him out of his dilemma was a chemical operation which we today would describe as a symbol. The procedure he followed was obviously an allegory of his postulated substantia coelestis and its chemical equivalent. To that extent the operation was not symbolical for him but purposive and rational. For us, who know that no amount of incineration, sublimation, and centrifuging of the vinous residue can ever produce an “air-coloured” quintessence, the entire procedure is fantastic if taken literally. We can hardly suppose that Dorn, either, meant a real wine but, after the manner of the alchemists, vinum ardens, acetum, spiritualis sanguis, etc., in other words Mercurius non vulgi, who embodied the anima mundi. Just as the air encompasses the earth, so in the old view the soul is wrapped round the world. As I have shown, we can most easily equate the concept of Mercurius with that of the unconscious. If we add this term to the recipe, it would run: Take the unconscious in one of its handiest forms, say a spontaneous fantasy, a dream, an irrational mood, an affect, or something of the kind, and operate with it. Give it your special attention, concentrate on it, and observe its alterations objectively. Spare no effort to devote yourself to this task, follow the subsequent transformations of the spontaneous fantasy attentively and carefully. Above all, don’t let anything from outside, that does not belong, get into it, for the fantasy-image has “everything it

needs.”222 In this way one is certain of not interfering by conscious caprice and of giving the unconscious a free hand. In short, the alchemical operation seems to us the equivalent of the psychological process of active imagination.

719. Ordinarily, the only thing people know about psychotherapy is that it consists in a certain technique which the analyst applies to his patient. Specialists know how far they can get with it. One can use it to cure the neuroses, and even the milder psychoses, so that nothing more remains of the illness except the general human problem of how much of yourself you want to forget, how much psychic discomfort you have to take on your shoulders, how much you may forbid or allow yourself, how much or how little you may expect of others, how far you should give up the meaning of your life or what sort of meaning you should give it. The analyst has a right to shut his door when a neurosis no longer produces any clinical symptoms and has debouched into the sphere of general human problems. The less he knows about these the greater his chances are of coming across comparatively reasonable patients who can be weaned from the transference that regularly sets in. But if the patient has even the remotest suspicion that the analyst thinks rather more about these problems than he says, then he will not give up the transference all that quickly but will cling to it in defiance of all reason—which is not so unreasonable after all, indeed quite understandable. Even adult persons often have no idea how to cope with the problem of living, and on top of that are so unconscious in this regard that they succumb in the most uncritical way to the slightest possibility of finding some kind of answer or certainty. Were this not so, the numerous sects and -isms would long since have died out. But, thanks to unconscious, infantile attachments, boundless uncertainty and lack of self-reliance, they all flourish like weeds.
720. The analyst who is himself struggling for all those things which he seeks to inculcate into his patients will not get round the problem of the transference so easily. The more he knows how difficult it is for him to solve the problems of his own life, the less he can overlook the fear and uncertainty or the frivolity and dangerously uncritical attitude of his patients. Even Freud regarded the transference as a neurosis at second hand and treated it as such. He could not simply shut the door, but honestly tried to analyze the transference away. This is not so simple as it sounds

when technically formulated. Practice often turns out to be rather different from theory. You want, of course, to put a whole man on his feet and not just a part of him. You soon discover that there is nothing for him to stand on and nothing for him to hold on to. Return to the parents has become impossible, so he hangs on to the analyst. He can go neither backwards nor forwards, for he sees nothing before him that could give him a hold. All so-called reasonable possibilities have been tried out and have proved useless. Not a few patients then remember the faith in which they were brought up, and some find their way back to it, but not all. They know, perhaps, what their faith ought to mean to them, but they have found to their cost how little can be achieved with will and good intentions if the unconscious does not lend a hand. In order to secure its co-operation the religions have long turned to myths for help, or rather, the myths always flung out bridges between the helpless consciousness and the effective idées forces of the unconscious. But you cannot, artificially and with an effort of will, believe the statements of myth if you have not previously been gripped by them. If you are honest, you will doubt the truth of the myth because our present-day consciousness has no means of understanding it. Historical and scientific criteria do not lend themselves to a recognition of mythological truth; it can be grasped only by the intuitions of faith or by psychology, and in the latter case although there may be insight it remains ineffective unless it is backed by experience.

721. Thus the modern man cannot even bring about the unio mentalis which would enable him to accomplish the second degree of conjunction. The analyst’s guidance in helping him to understand the statements of his unconscious in dreams, etc. may provide the necessary insight, but when it comes to the question of real experience the analyst can no longer help him: he himself must put his hand to the work. He is then in the position of an alchemist’s apprentice who is inducted into the teachings by the Master and learns all the tricks of the laboratory. But sometime he must set about the opus himself, for, as the alchemists emphasize, nobody else can do it for him. Like this apprentice, the modern man begins with an unseemly prima materia which presents itself in unexpected form—a contemptible fantasy which, like the stone that the builders rejected, is “flung into the street” and is so “cheap” that people do not even look at it. He will observe it from day to day and note its alterations until his eyes are opened or, as the alchemists say, until the fish’s eyes, or the sparks, shine in the dark

solution. For the eyes of the fish are always open and therefore must always see, which is why the alchemists used them as a symbol of perpetual attention. (Pis. 8 and 9.)

722. The light that gradually dawns on him consists in his understanding that his fantasy is a real psychic process which is happening to him personally. Although, to a certain extent, he looks on from outside, impartially, he is also an acting and suffering figure in the drama of the psyche. This recognition is absolutely necessary and marks an important advance. So long as he simply looks at the pictures he is like the foolish Parsifal, who forgot to ask the vital question because he was not aware of his own participation in the action. Then, if the flow of images ceases, next to nothing has happened even though the process is repeated a thousand times. But if you recognize your own involvement you yourself must enter into the process with your personal reactions, just as if you were one of the fantasy figures, or rather, as if the drama being enacted before your eyes were real. It is a psychic fact that this fantasy is happening, and it is as real as you—as a psychic entity—are real. If this crucial operation is not carried out, all the changes are left to the flow of images, and you yourself remain unchanged. As Dorn says, you will never make the One unless you become one yourself. It is, however, possible that if you have a dramatic fantasy you will enter the interior world of images as a fictitious personality and thereby prevent any real participation; it may even endanger consciousness because you then become the victim of your own fantasy and succumb to the powers of the unconscious, whose dangers the analyst knows all too well. But if you place yourself in the drama as you really are, not only does it gain in actuality but you also create, by your criticism of the fantasy, an effective counterbalance to its tendency to get out of hand. For what is now happening is the decisive rapprochement with the unconscious. This is where insight, the unio mentalis, begins to become real. What you are now creating is the beginning of individuation, whose immediate goal is the experience and production of the symbol of totality.
723. It not infrequently happens that the patient simply continues to observe his images without considering what they mean to him. He can and he should understand their meaning, but this is of practical value only so long as he is not sufficiently convinced that the unconscious can give

him valuable insights. But once he has recognized this fact, he should also know that he then has in his hands an opportunity to win, by his knowledge, independence of the analyst. This conclusion is one which he does not like to draw, with the result that he frequently stops short at the mere observation of his images. The analyst, if he has not tried out the procedure on himself, cannot help him over this stile—assuming, of course, that there are compelling reasons why the procedure should be continued. In these cases there is no medical or ethical imperative but only a command of fate, which is why patients who by no means lack the necessary acumen often come to a standstill at this point. As this experience is not uncommon I can only conclude that the transition from a merely perceptive, i.e., aesthetic, attitude to one of judgment is far from easy. Indeed, modern psychotherapy has just reached this point and is beginning to recognize the usefulness of perceiving and giving shape to the images, whether by pencil and brush or by modelling. A musical configuration might also be possible provided that it were really composed and written down. Though I have never met a case of this kind, Bach’s Art of Fugue would seem to offer an example, just as the representation of the archetypes is a basic feature of Wagner’s music. (These phenomena, however, arise less from personal necessity than from the unconscious compensations produced by the Zeitgeist, though I cannot discuss this here.)

724. The step beyond a merely aesthetic attitude may be unfamiliar to most of my readers. I myself have said little about it and have contented myself with hints.223 It is not a matter that can be taken lightly. I tried it out on myself and others thirty years ago and must admit that although it is feasible and leads to satisfactory results it is also very difficult. It can be recommended without misgiving if a patient has reached the stage of knowledge described above. If he finds the task too difficult he will usually fail right at the beginning and never get through the dangerous impasse. The danger inherent in analysis is that, in a psychopathically disposed patient, it will unleash a psychosis. This very unpleasant possibility generally presents itself at the beginning of the treatment, when, for instance, dream-analysis has activated the unconscious. But if it has got so far that the patient can do active imagination and shape out his fantasies, and there are no suspicious incidents, then there is as a rule no longer any serious danger. One naturally asks oneself what fear—if fear it

is—prevents him from taking the next step, the transition to an attitude of judgment. (The judgment of course should be morally and intellectually binding.) There are sufficient reasons for fear and uncertainty because voluntary participation in the fantasy is alarming to a naive mind and amounts to an anticipated psychosis.

725. Naturally there is an enormous difference between an anticipated psychosis and a real one, but the difference is not always clearly perceived and this gives rise to uncertainty or even a fit of panic. Unlike a real psychosis, which comes on you and inundates you with uncontrollable fantasies irrupting from the unconscious, the judging attitude implies a voluntary involvement in those fantasy-processes which compensate the individual and—in particular—the collective situation of consciousness. The avowed purpose of this involvement is to integrate the statements of the unconscious, to assimilate their compensatory content, and thereby produce a whole meaning which alone makes life worth living and, for not a few people, possible at all. The reason why the involvement looks very like a psychosis is that the patient is integrating the same fantasy-material to which the insane person falls victim because he cannot integrate it but is swallowed up by it. In myths the hero is the one who conquers the dragon, not the one who is devoured by it. And yet both have to deal with the same dragon. Also, he is no hero who never met the dragon, or who, if he once saw it, declared afterwards that he saw nothing. Equally, only one who has risked the fight with the dragon and is not overcome by it wins the hoard, the “treasure hard to attain.” He alone has a genuine claim to self- confidence, for he has faced the dark ground of his self and thereby has gained himself. This experience gives him faith and trust, the pistis in the ability of the self to sustain him, for everything that menaced him from inside he has made his own. He has acquired the right to believe that he will be able to overcome all future threats by the same means. He has arrived at an inner certainty which makes him capable of self-reliance, and attained what the alchemists called the unio mentalis.
726. As a rule this state is represented pictorially by a mandala. Often such drawings contain clear allusions to the sky and the stars and therefore refer to something like the “inner” heaven, the “firmament” or “Olympus” of Paracelsus, the Microcosm. This, too, is that circular product, the caelum,224 which Dorn wanted to produce by “assiduous rotary movements.” Because

it is not very likely that he ever manufactured this quintessence as a chemical body, and he himself nowhere asserts that he did, one must ask whether he really meant this chemical operation or rather, perhaps, the opus alchymicum in general, that is, the transmutation of Mercurius duplex under the synonym of the red and white wine,225 thus alluding at the same time to the opus ad rubeum et ad album. This seems to me more probable. At any rate some kind of laboratory work was meant. In this way Dorn “shaped out” his intuition of a mysterious centre preexistent in man, which at the same time represented a cosmos, i.e., a totality, while he himself remained conscious that he was portraying the self in matter. He completed the image of wholeness by the admixture of honey, magic herbs, and human blood, or their meaningful equivalents, just as a modern man does when he associates numerous symbolic attributes with his drawing of a mandala. Also, following the old Sabaean and Alexandrian models, Dorn drew the “influence” of the planets (stellae inferiores)—or Tartarus and the mythological aspect of the underworld—into his quintessence, just as the patient does today.226

727. In this wise Dorn solved the problem of realizing the unio mentalis, of effecting its union with the body, thereby completing the second stage of the coniunctio. We would say that with this production of a physical equivalent the idea of the self had taken shape. But the alchemist associated his work with something more potent and more original than our pale abstraction. He felt it as a magically effective action which, like the substance itself, imparted magical qualities. The projection of magical qualities indicates the existence of corresponding effects on consciousness, that is to say the adept felt a numinous effect emanating from the lapis, or whatever he called the arcane substance. We, with our rationalistic minds, would scarcely attribute any such thing to the pictures which the modern man makes of his intuitive vision of unconscious contents. But it depends on whether we are dealing with the conscious or with the unconscious. The unconscious does in fact seem to be influenced by these images. One comes to this conclusion when one examines more closely the psychic reactions of the patients to their own drawings: they do have in the end a quietening influence and create something like an inner foundation. While the adept had always looked for the effects of his stone outside, for instance as the panacea or golden tincture or life-prolonging elixir, and only during the sixteenth century pointed with unmistakable clarity to an

inner effect, psychological experience emphasizes above all the subjective reaction to the formation of images, and—with a free and open mind—still reserves judgment in regard to possible objective effects.227

9. THE THIRD STAGE: THE UNUS MUNDUS

728. The production of the lapis was the goal of alchemy in general. Dorn was a significant exception, because for him this denoted only the completion of the second stage of conjunction. In this he agrees with psychological experience. For us the representation of the idea of the self in actual and visible form is a mere rite d’entrée, as it were a propaedeutic action and mere anticipation of its realization. The existence of a sense of inner security by no means proves that the product will be stable enough to withstand the disturbing or hostile influences of the environment. The adept had to experience again and again how unfavourable circumstances or a technical blunder or—as it seemed to him—some devilish accident hindered the completion of his work, so that he was forced to start all over again from the very beginning. Anyone who submits his sense of inner security to analogous psychic tests will have similar experiences. More than once everything he has built will fall to pieces under the impact of reality, and he must not let this discourage him from examining, again and again, where it is that his attitude is still defective, and what are the blind spots in his psychic field of vision. Just as a lapis Philosophorum, with its miraculous powers, was never produced, so psychic wholeness will never be attained empirically, as consciousness is too narrow and too one-sided to comprehend the full inventory of the psyche. Always we shall have to begin again from the beginning. From ancient times the adept knew that he was concerned with the “res simplex,” and the modern man too will find by experience that the work does not prosper without the greatest simplicity. But simple things are always the most difficult.
729. The One and Simple is what Dorn called the unus mundus, This “one world” was the res simplex.228 For him the third and highest degree of conjunction was the union of the whole man with the unus mundus. By this he meant, as we have seen, the potential world of the first day of creation, when nothing was yet “in actu,” i.e., divided into two and many, but was still one.229  The creation of unity by a magical procedure meant the

possibility of effecting a union with the world—not with the world of multiplicity as we see it but with a potential world, the eternal Ground of all empirical being, just as the self is the ground and origin of the individual personality past, present, and future. On the basis of a self known by meditation and produced by alchemical means, Dorn “hoped and expected” to be united with the unus mundus.

730. This potential world is the “mundus archetypus” of the Schoolmen. I conjecture that the immediate model for Dorn’s idea is to be found in Philo Judaeus, who, in his treatise De mundi opificio230 says that the Creator made in the intelligible world an incorporeal heaven, an invisible earth, and the idea of the air and the void. Last of all he created man, a “little heaven” that “bears in itself the reflections of many natures similar to the stars.” Here Philo points clearly to the idea of the Microcosm and hence to the unity of the psychic man with the cosmos. According to Philo, the relation of the Creator to the mundus intelligibilis is the “imago” or “archetypus” of the relation of the mind to the body. Whether Dorn also knew Plotinus is questionable. In his fourth Ennead (9, iff.) Plotinus discusses the problem of whether all individuals are merely one soul, and he believes he has good grounds for affirming this question. I mention Plotinus because he is an earlier witness to the idea of the unus mundus. The “unity of the soul” rests empirically on the basic psychic structure common to all souls, which, though not visible and tangible like the anatomical structure, is just as evident as it.
731. The thought Dorn expresses by the third degree of conjunction is universal: it is the relation or identity of the personal with the suprapersonal atman, and of the individual tao with the universal tao. To the Westerner this view appears not at all realistic and all too mystic; above all he cannot see why a self should become a reality when it enters into relationship with the world of the first day of creation. He has no knowledge of any world other than the empirical one. Strictly speaking, his puzzlement does not begin here; it began already with the production of the caelum, the inner unity. Such thoughts are unpopular and distressingly nebulous. He does not know where they belong or on what they could be based. They might be true or again they might not—in short, his experience stops here and with it as a rule his understanding, and, unfortunately, only too often his willingness to learn more. I would

therefore counsel the critical reader to put aside his prejudices and for once try to experience on himself the effects of the process I have described, or else to suspend judgment and admit that he understands nothing. For thirty years I have studied these psychic processes under all possible conditions and have assured myself that the alchemists as well as the great philosophies of the East are referring to just such experiences, and that it is chiefly our ignorance of the psyche if these experiences appear “mystic.”

732. We should at all events be able to understand that the visualization of the self is a “window” into eternity, which gave the medieval man, like the Oriental, an opportunity to escape from the stifling grip of a one-sided view of the world or to hold out against it. Though the goal of the opus alchymicum was indubitably the production of the lapis or caelum, there can be no doubt about its tendency to spiritualize the “body.” This is expressed by the symbol of the “air-coloured” liquid that floats to the surface. It represents nothing less than a corpus glorificationis, the resurrected body whose relation to eternity is self-evident.
733. Now just as it seems self-evident to the naive-minded person that an apple falls from the tree to the earth, but absurd to say that the earth rises up to meet the apple, so he can believe without difficulty that the mind is able to spiritualize the body without being affected by its inertia and grossness. But all effects are mutual, and nothing changes anything else without itself being changed. Although the alchemist thought he knew better than anyone else that, at the Creation, at least a little bit of the divinity, the anima mundi, entered into material things and was caught there, he nevertheless believed in the possibility of a one-sided spiritualization, without considering that the precondition for this is a materialization of the spirit in the form of the blue quintessence. In reality his labours elevated the body into proximity with the spirit while at the same time drawing the spirit down into matter. By sublimating matter he concretized spirit.
734. This self-evident truth was still strange to medieval man and it has been only partially digested even by the man of today. But if a union is to take place between opposites like spirit and matter, conscious and unconscious, bright and dark, and so on, it will happen in a third thing, which represents not a compromise but something new, just as for the alchemists the cosmic strife of the elements was composed by the

(stone that is no stone), by a transcendental entity that could be described only in paradoxes.231 Dorn’s caelum, which corresponded to the stone, was on the one hand a liquid that could be poured out of a bottle and on the other the Microcosm itself. For the psychologist it is the self— man as he is, and the indescribable and super-empirical totality of that same man. This totality is a mere postulate, but a necessary one, because no one can assert that he has complete knowledge of man as he is. Not only in the psychic man is there something unknown, but also in the physical. We should be able to include this unknown quantity in a total picture of man, but we cannot. Man himself is partly empirical, partly transcendental; he too is a        . Also, we do not know whether what we on the empirical plane regard as physical may not, in the Unknown beyond our experience, be identical with what on this side of the border we distinguish from the physical as psychic. Though we know from experience that psychic processes are related to material ones, we are not in a position to say in what this relationship consists or how it is possible at all. Precisely because the psychic and the physical are mutually dependent it has often been conjectured that they may be identical somewhere beyond our present experience, though this certainly does not justify the arbitrary hypothesis of either materialism or spiritualism.

735. With this conjecture of the identity of the psychic and the physical we approach the alchemical view of the unus mundus, the potential world of the first day of creation, when there was as yet “no second.” Before the time of Paracelsus the alchemists believed in creatio ex nihilo. For them, therefore, God himself was the principle of matter. But Paracelsus and his school assumed that matter was an “increatum,” and hence coexistent and coeternal with God. Whether they considered this view monistic or dualistic I am unable to discover. The only certain thing is that for all the alchemists matter had a divine aspect, whether on the ground that God was imprisoned in it in the form of the anima mundi or anima media natura, or that matter represented God’s “reality.” In no case was matter de-deified, and certainly not the potential matter of the first day of creation. It seems that only the Paracelsists were influenced by the dualistic words of Genesis.232
736. If Dorn, then, saw the consummation of the mysterium coniunctionis in the union of the alchemically produced caelum with the unus mundus,

he expressly meant not a fusion of the individual with his environment, or even his adaptation to it, but a unio mystica with the potential world. Such a view indeed seems to us “mystical,” if we misuse this word in its pejorative modern sense. It is not, however, a question of thoughtlessly used words but of a view which can be translated from medieval language into modern concepts. Undoubtedly the idea of the unus mundus is founded on the assumption that the multiplicity of the empirical world rests on an underlying unity, and that not two or more fundamentally different worlds exist side by side or are mingled with one another. Rather, everything divided and different belongs to one and the same world, which is not the world of sense but a postulate whose probability is vouched for by the fact that until now no one has been able to discover a world in which the known laws of nature are invalid. That even the psychic world, which is so extraordinarily different from the physical world, does not have its roots outside the one cosmos is evident from the undeniable fact that causal connections exist between the psyche and the body which point to their underlying unitary nature.

737. All that is is not encompassed by our knowledge, so that we are not in a position to make any statements about its total nature. Microphysics is feeling its way into the unknown side of matter, just as complex psychology is pushing forward into the unknown side of the psyche. Both lines of investigation have yielded findings which can be conceived only by means of antinomies, and both have developed concepts which display remarkable analogies. If this trend should become more pronounced in the future, the hypothesis of the unity of their subject-matters would gain in probability. Of course there is little or no hope that the unitary Being can ever be conceived, since our powers of thought and language permit only of antinomian statements. But this much we do know beyond all doubt, that empirical reality has a transcendental background—a fact which, as Sir James Jeans has shown, can be expressed by Plato’s parable of the cave. The common background of microphysics and depth-psychology is as much physical as psychic and therefore neither, but rather a third thing, a neutral nature which can at most be grasped in hints since in essence it is transcendental.
738. The background of our empirical world thus appears to be in fact a

unus mundus. This is at least a probable hypothesis which satisfies the

fundamental tenet of scientific theory: “Explanatory principles are not to be multiplied beyond the necessary.” The transcendental psychophysical background corresponds to a “potential world” in so far as all those conditions which determine the form of empirical phenomena are inherent in it. This obviously holds good as much for physics as for psychology, or, to be more precise, for macrophysics as much as for the psychology of consciousness.

739. So if Dorn sees the third and highest degree of conjunction in a union or relationship of the adept, who has produced the caelum, with the unus mundus, this would consist, psychologically, in a synthesis of the conscious with the unconscious. The result of this conjunction or equation is theoretically inconceivable, since a known quantity is combined with an unknown one; but in practice as many far-reaching changes of consciousness result from it as atomic physics has produced in classical physics. The nature of the changes which Dorn expects from the third stage of the coniunctio can be established only indirectly from the symbolism used by the adepts. What he called caelum is, as we have seen, a symbolic prefiguration of the self. We can conclude from this that the desired realization of the whole man was conceived as a healing of organic and psychic ills, since the caelum was described as a universal medicine (the panacea, alexipharmic, medicina catholica, etc.). It was regarded also as the balsam and elixir of life, as a life-prolonging, strengthening, and rejuvenating magical potion. It was a “living stone,” a  (baetylus), a “stone that hath a spirit,”233 and the “living stone” mentioned in the New Testament,234 which in the Shepherd of Hermas is the living man who adds himself as a brick to the tower of the Church. Above all, its incorruptibility is stressed: it lasts a long time, or for all eternity; though alive, it is unmoved; it radiates magic power and transforms the perishable into the imperishable and the impure into the pure; it multiplies itself indefinitely; it is simple and therefore universal, the union of all opposites; it is the parallel of Christ and is called the Saviour of the Macrocosm. But the caelum also signifies man’s likeness to God (imago Dei), the anima mundi in matter, and the truth itself. It “has a thousand names.” It is also the Microcosm, the whole man (), chên-yên, a homunculus and a hermaphrodite. These designations and significations are but a small selection from the plethora of names mentioned in the literature.
740. Not unnaturally, we are at a loss to see how a psychic experience of this kind—for such it evidently was—can be formulated as a rational concept. Undoubtedly it was meant as the essence of perfection and universality, and, as such, it characterized an experience of similar proportions. We could compare this only with the ineffable mystery of the unio mystica, or tao, or the content of samadhi, or the experience of satori in Zen, which would bring us to the realm of the ineffable and of extreme subjectivity where all the criteria of reason fail. Remarkably enough this experience is an empirical one in so far as there are unanimous testimonies from the East and West alike, both from the present and from the distant past, which confirm its unsurpassable subjective significance. Our knowledge of physical nature gives us no point d’appui that would enable us to put the experience on any generally valid basis. It is and remains a secret of the world of psychic experience and can be understood only as a numinous event, whose actuality, nevertheless, cannot be doubted any more than the fact that light of a certain wave-length is perceived as “red”—a fact which remains incomprehensible only to a man suffering from red-green blindness.
741. What, then, do the statements of the alchemists concerning their arcanum mean, looked at psychologically? In order to answer this question we must remember the working hypothesis we have used for the interpretation of dreams: the images in dreams and spontaneous fantasies are symbols, that is, the best possible formulation for still unknown or unconscious facts, which generally compensate the content of consciousness or the conscious attitude. If we apply this basic rule to the alchemical arcanum, we come to the conclusion that its most conspicuous quality, namely, its unity and uniqueness—one is the stone, one the medicine, one the vessel, one the procedure, and one the disposition235— presupposes a dissociated consciousness. For no one who is one himself needs oneness as a medicine—nor, we might add, does anyone who is unconscious of his dissociation, for a conscious situation of distress is needed in order to activate the archetype of unity. From this we may conclude that the more philosophically minded alchemists were people who did not feel satisfied with the then prevailing view of the world, that is, with the Christian faith, although they were convinced of its truth. In this latter respect we find in the classical Latin and Greek literature of alchemy no evidences to the contrary, but rather, so far as Christian

treatises are concerned, abundant testimony to the firmness of their Christian convictions. Since Christianity is expressly a system of “salvation,” founded moreover on God’s “plan of redemption,” and God is unity par excellence, one must ask oneself why the alchemists still felt a disunity in themselves, or not at one with themselves, when their faith, so it would appear, gave them every opportunity for unity and unison. (This question has lost nothing of its topicality today, on the contrary!) The question answers itself when we examine more closely the other attributes that are predicated of the arcanum.

742. The next quality, therefore, which we have to consider is its physical nature. Although the alchemists attached the greatest importance to this, and the “stone” was the whole raison d’être of their art, yet it cannot be regarded as merely physical since it is stressed that the stone was alive and possessed a soul and spirit, or even that it was a man or some creature like a man. And although it was also said of God that the world is his physical manifestation, this pantheistic view was rejected by the Church, for “God is Spirit” and the very reverse of matter. In that case the Christian standpoint would correspond to the “unio mentalis in the overcoming of the body.” So far as the alchemist professed the Christian faith, he knew that according to his own lights he was still at the second stage of conjunction, and that the Christian “truth” was not yet “realized.” The soul was drawn up by the spirit to the lofty regions of abstraction; but the body was de-souled, and since it also had claims to live the unsatisfactoriness of the situation could not remain hidden from him. He was unable to feel himself a whole, and whatever the spiritualization of his existence may have meant to him he could not get beyond the Here and Now of his bodily life in the physical world. The spirit precluded his orientation to physis and vice versa. Despite all assurances to the contrary Christ is not a unifying factor but a dividing “sword” which sunders the spiritual man from the physical. The alchemists, who, unlike certain moderns, were clever enough to see the necessity and fitness of a further development of consciousness, held fast to their Christian convictions and did not slip back to a more unconscious level. They could not and would not deny the truth of Christianity, and for this reason it would be wrong to accuse them of heresy. On the contrary, they wanted to “realize” the unity foreshadowed in the idea of God by struggling to unite the unio mentalis with the body.
743. The mainspring of this endeavour was the conviction that this world was in a morbid condition and that everything was corrupted by original sin. They saw that the soul could be redeemed only if it was freed by the spirit from its natural attachment to the body, though this neither altered nor in any way improved the status of physical life. The Microcosm, i.e., the inner man, was capable of redemption but not the corrupt body. This insight was reason enough for a dissociation of consciousness into a spiritual and a physical personality. They could all declare with St. Paul: “O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?”236 They therefore strove to find the medicine that would heal all the sufferings of the body and the disunion of the soul, the  which frees the body of its corruptibility, and the elixir vitae which grants the long life of the Biblical aforetime, or even immortality. Since most of them were physicians, they had plenty of opportunities to form an overwhelming impression of the transitoriness of human existence, and to develop that kind of impatience which refuses to wait till Kingdom come for more endurable conditions better in accord with the message of salvation. It is precisely the claims of the physical man and the unendurability of his dissociation that are expressed in this gnawing discontent. The alchemists, consequently, saw themselves faced with the extremely difficult task of uniting the wayward physical man with his spiritual truth. As they were neither unbelievers nor heretics, they could not and would not alter this truth in order to make it more favourably disposed to the body. Besides, the body was in the wrong anyway since it had succumbed to original sin by its moral weakness. It was therefore the body with its darkness that had to be “prepared.” This, as we have seen, was done by extracting a quintessence which was the physical equivalent of heaven, of the potential world, and on that account was named “caelum.” It was the very essence of the body, an incorruptible and therefore pure and eternal substance, a corpus glorificatum, capable and worthy of being united with the unio mentalis. What was left over from the body was a “terra damnata,” a dross that had to be abandoned to its fate. The quintessence, the caelum, on the other hand, corresponded to the pure, incorrupt, original stuff of the world, God’s adequate and perfectly obedient instrument, whose production, therefore, permitted the alchemist to “hope and expect” the conjunction with the unus mundus.
744. This solution was a compromise to the disadvantage of physis, but it

was nevertheless a noteworthy attempt to bridge the dissociation between spirit and matter. It was not a solution of principle, for the very reason that the procedure did not take place in the real object at all but was a fruitless projection, since the caelum could never be fabricated in reality. It was a hope that was extinguished with alchemy and then, it seems, was struck off the agenda for ever. But the dissociation remained, and, in quite the contrary sense, brought about a far better knowledge of nature and a sounder medicine, while on the other hand it deposed the spirit in a manner that would paralyse Dorn with horror could he see it today. The elixir vitae of modern science has already increased the expectation of life very considerably and hopes for still better results in the future. The unio mentalis, on the other hand, has become a pale phantom, and the veritas Christiana feels itself on the defensive. As for a truth that is hidden in the human body, there is no longer any talk of that. History has remorselessly made good what the alchemical compromise left unfinished: the physical man has been unexpectedly thrust into the foreground and has conquered nature in an undreamt-of way. At the same time he has become conscious of his empirical psyche, which has loosened itself from the embrace of the spirit and begun to take on so concrete a form that its individual features are now the object of clinical observation. It has long ceased to be a life- principle or some kind of philosophical abstraction; on the contrary, it is suspected of being a mere epiphenomenon of the chemistry of the brain. Nor does the spirit any longer give it life; rather is it conjectured that the spirit owes its existence to psychic activity. Today psychology can call itself a science, and this is a big concession on the part of the spirit. What demands psychology will make on the other natural sciences, and on physics in particular, only the future can tell.

10. THE SELF AND THE BOUNDS OF KNOWLEDGE

745. As I have repeatedly pointed out, the alchemist’s statements about the lapis, considered psychologically, describe the archetype of the self. Its phenomenology is exemplified in mandala symbolism, which portrays the self as a concentric structure, often in the form of a squaring of the circle. Co-ordinated with this are all kinds of secondary symbols, most of them expressing the nature of the opposites to be united. The structure is

invariably felt as the representation of a central state or of a centre of personality essentially different from the ego. It is of numinous nature, as is clearly indicated by the mandalas themselves and by the symbols used (sun, star, light, fire, flower, precious stone, etc.). All degrees of emotional evaluation are found, from abstract, colourless, indifferent drawings of circles to an extremely intense experience of illumination. These aspects all appear in alchemy, the only difference being that there they are projected into matter, whereas here they are understood as symbols. The arcanum chymicum has therefore changed into a psychic event without having lost any of its original numinosity.

746. If we now recall to what a degree the soul has humanized and realized itself, we can judge how very much it today expresses the body also, with which it is coexistent. Here is a coniunctio of the second degree, such as the alchemists at most dreamed of but could not realize. Thus far the transformation into the psychological is a notable advance, but only if the centre experienced proves to be a spiritus rector of daily life. Obviously, it was clear even to the alchemists that one could have a lapis in one’s pocket without ever making gold with it, or the aurum potabile in a bottle without ever having tasted that bittersweet drink—hypothetically speaking, of course, for they never succumbed to the temptation to use their stone in reality because they never succeeded in making one. The psychological significance of this misfortune should not be overestimated, however. It takes second place in comparison with the fascination which emanated from the sensed and intuited archetype of wholeness. In this respect alchemy fared no worse than Christianity, which in its turn was not fatally disturbed by the continuing non-appearance of the Lord at the Second Coming. The intense emotion that is always associated with the vitality an archetypal idea conveys—even though only a minimum of rational understanding may be present—a premonitory experience of wholeness to which a subsequently differentiated understanding can add nothing essential, at least as regards the totality of the experience. A better developed understanding can, however, constantly renew the vitality of the original experience. In view of the inexhaustibility of the archetype the rational understanding derived from it means relatively little, and it would be an unjustifiable overestimation of reason to assume that, as a result of understanding, the illumination in the final state is a higher one than in the initial state of numinous experience. The same objection, as we have seen,

was made to Cardinal Newman’s view concerning the development of dogma, but it was overlooked that rational understanding or intellectual formulation adds nothing to the experience of wholeness, and at best only facilitates its repetition. The experience itself is the important thing, not its intellectual representation or clarification, which proves meaningful and helpful only when the road to original experience is blocked. The differentiation of dogma not only expresses its vitality but is needed in order to preserve its vitality. Similarly, the archetype at the basis of alchemy needs interpreting if we are to form any conception of its vitality and numinosity and thereby preserve it at least for our science. The alchemist likewise interpreted his experience as best he could, though without ever understanding it to the degree that psychological explanation makes possible today. But his inadequate understanding did not detract from the totality of his archetypal experience any more than our wider and more differentiated understanding adds anything to it.

747. With the advance towards the psychological a great change sets in, for self-knowledge has certain ethical consequences which are not just impassively recognized but demand to be carried out in practice. This depends of course on one’s moral endowment, on which as we know one should not place too much reliance. The self, in its efforts at self- realization, reaches out beyond the ego-personality on all sides; because of its all-encompassing nature it is brighter and darker than the ego, and accordingly confronts it with problems which it would like to avoid. Either one’s moral courage fails, or one’s insight, or both, until in the end fate decides. The ego never lacks moral and rational counterarguments, which one cannot and should not set aside so long as it is possible to hold on to them. For you only feel yourself on the right road when the conflicts of duty seem to have resolved themselves, and you have become the victim of a decision made over your head or in defiance of the heart. From this we can see the numinous power of the self, which can hardly be experienced in any other way. For this reason the experience of the self is always a defeat for the ego. The extraordinary difficulty in this experience is that the self can be distinguished only conceptually from what has always been referred to as “God,” but not practically. Both concepts apparently rest on an identical numinous factor which is a condition of reality. The ego enters into the picture only so far as it can offer resistance, defend itself, and in the event of defeat still affirm its existence. The prototype of this situation

is Job’s encounter with Yahweh. This hint is intended only to give some indication of the nature of the problems involved. From this general statement one should not draw the overhasty conclusion that in every case there is a hybris of ego-consciousness which fully deserves to be overpowered by the unconscious. That is not so at all, because it very often happens that ego-consciousness and the ego’s sense of responsibility are too weak and need, if anything, strengthening. But these are questions of practical psychotherapy, and I mention them here only because I have been accused of underestimating the importance of the ego and giving undue prominence to the unconscious. This strange insinuation emanates from a theological quarter. Obviously my critic has failed to realize that the mystical experiences of the saints are no different from other effects of the unconscious.

748. In contrast to the ideal of alchemy, which consisted in the production of a mysterious substance, a man, an anima mundi or a deus terrenus who was expected to be a saviour from all human ills, the psychological interpretation (foreshadowed by the alchemists) points to the concept of human wholeness. This concept has primarily a therapeutic significance in that it attempts to portray the psychic state which results from bridging over a dissociation between conscious and unconscious. The alchemical compensation corresponds to the integration of the unconscious with consciousness, whereby both are altered. Above all, consciousness experiences a widening of its horizon. This certainly brings about a considerable improvement of the whole psychic situation, since the disturbance of consciousness by the counteraction of the unconscious is eliminated. But, because all good things must be paid for dearly, the previously unconscious conflict is brought to the surface instead and imposes on consciousness a heavy responsibility, as it is now expected to solve the conflict. But it seems as badly equipped and prepared for this as was the consciousness of the medieval alchemist. Like him, the modern man needs a special method for investigating and giving shape to the unconscious contents in order to get consciousness out of its fix. As I have shown elsewhere, an experience of the self may be expected as a result of these psychotherapeutic endeavours, and quite often these experiences are numinous. It is not worth the effort to try to describe their totality character. Anyone who has experienced anything of the sort will know what I mean, and anyone who has not had the experience will not be

satisfied by any amount of descriptions. Moreover there are countless descriptions of it in world literature. But I know of no case in which the bare description conveyed the experience.

749. It is not in the least astonishing that numinous experiences should occur in the course of psychological treatment and that they may even be expected with some regularity, for they also occur very frequently in exceptional psychic states that are not treated and may even cause them. They do not belong exclusively to the domain of psychopathology but can be observed in normal people as well. Naturally, modern ignorance of and prejudice against intimate psychic experiences dismiss them as psychic anomalies and put them in psychiatric pigeon-holes without making the least attempt to understand them. But that neither gets rid of the fact of their occurrence nor explains it.
750. Nor is it astonishing that in every attempt to gain an adequate understanding of the numinous experience use must be made of certain parallel religious or metaphysical ideas which have not only been associated with it from ancient times but are constantly used to formulate and elucidate it. The consequence, however, is that any attempt at scientific explanation gets into the grotesque situation of being accused in its turn of offering a metaphysical explanation. It is true that this objection will be raised only by one who imagines himself to be in possession of metaphysical truths, and assumes that they posit or give valid expression to metaphysical facts corresponding to them. It seems to me at least highly improbable that when a man says “God” there must in consequence exist a God such as he imagines, or that he necessarily speaks of a real being. At any rate he can never prove that there is something to correspond with his statement on the metaphysical side, just as it can never be proved to him that he is wrong. Thus it is at best a question of non liquet, and it seems to me advisable under these circumstances and in view of the limitations of human knowledge to assume from the start that our metaphysical concepts are simply anthropomorphic images and opinions which express transcendental facts either not at all or only in a very hypothetical manner. Indeed we know already from the physical world around us that in itself it does not necessarily agree in the least with the world as we perceive it. The physical world and the perceptual world are two very different things. Knowing this we have no encouragement whatever to think that our

metaphysical picture of the world corresponds to the transcendental reality. Moreover, the statements made about the latter are so boundlessly varied that with the best of intentions we cannot know who is right. The denominational religions recognized this long ago and in consequence each of them claims that it is the only true one and, on top of this, that it is not merely a human truth but the truth directly inspired and revealed by God. Every theologian speaks simply of “God,” by which he intends it to be understood that his “god” is the God. But one speaks of the paradoxical God of the Old Testament, another of the incarnate God of Love, a third of the God who has a heavenly bride, and so on, and each criticizes the other but never himself.

751. Nothing provides a better demonstration of the extreme uncertainty of metaphysical assertions than their diversity. But it would be completely wrong to assume that they are altogether worthless. For in the end it has to be explained why such assertions are made at all. There must be some reason for this. Somehow men feel impelled to make transcendental statements. Why this should be so is a matter for dispute. We only know that in genuine cases it is not a question of arbitrary inventions but of involuntary numinous experiences which happen to a man and provide the basis for religious assertions and convictions. Therefore, at the source of the great confessional religions as well as of many smaller mystical movements we find individual historical personalities whose lives were distinguished by numinous experiences. Numerous investigations of such experiences have convinced me that previously unconscious contents then break through into consciousness and overwhelm it in the same way as do the invasions of the unconscious in pathological cases accessible to psychiatric observation. Even Jesus, according to Mark 3 : 21,237 appeared to his followers in that light. The significant difference, however, between merely pathological cases and “inspired” personalities is that sooner or later the latter find an extensive following and can therefore transmit their effect down the centuries. The fact that the long-lasting effect exerted by the founders of the great religions is due quite as much to their overwhelming spiritual personality, their exemplary life, and their ethical self-commitment does not affect the present discussion. Personality is only one root of success, and there were and always will be genuine religious personalities to whom success is denied. One has only to think of Meister Eckhart. But, if they do meet with success, this only proves that the “truth”

they utter hits on a consensus of opinion, that they are talking of something that is “in the air” and is “spoken from the heart” for their followers too. This, as we know to our cost, applies to good and evil alike, to the true as well as the untrue.

752. The wise man who is not heeded is counted a fool, and the fool who proclaims the general folly first and loudest passes for a prophet and Führer, and sometimes it is luckily the other way round as well, or else mankind would long since have perished of stupidity.
753. The insane person, whose distinguishing mark is his mental sterility, expresses no “truth” not only because he is not a personality but because he meets with no consensus of opinion. But anyone who does, has to that extent expressed the “truth.” In metaphysical matters what is “authoritative” is “true,” hence metaphysical assertions are invariably bound up with an unusually strong claim to recognition and authority, because authority is for them the only possible proof of their truth, and by this proof they stand or fall. All metaphysical claims in this respect inevitably beg the question, as is obvious to any reasonable person in the case of the proofs of God.
754. The claim to authority is naturally not in itself sufficient to establish a metaphysical truth. Its authority must also be backed by the equally vehement need of the multitude. As this need always arises from a condition of distress, any attempt at explanation will have to examine the psychic situation of those who allow themselves to be convinced by a metaphysical assertion. It will then turn out that the statements of the inspired personality have made conscious just those images and ideas which compensate the general psychic distress. These images and ideas were not thought up or invented by the inspired personality but “happened” to him as experiences, and he became, as it were, their willing or unwilling victim. A will transcending his consciousness seized hold of him, which he was quite unable to resist. Naturally enough he feels this overwhelming power as “divine.” I have nothing against this word, but with the best will in the world I cannot see that it proves the existence of a transcendent God. Suppose a benevolent Deity did in fact inspire a salutary truth, what about all those cases where a half-truth or unholy nonsense was inspired and accepted by an eager following? Here the devil would be a better bet or—on the principle “omne malum ab homine”—man himself.

This metaphysical either-or explanation is rather difficult to apply in practice because most inspirations fall between the two extremes, being neither wholly true nor wholly false. In theory, therefore, they owe their existence to the co-operation of a good and a bad power. We would also have to suppose a common plan of work aiming at an only tolerably good goal, so to speak, or make the assumption that one power bungles the handiwork of the other or—a third possibility—that man is capable of thwarting God’s intention to inspire a perfect truth (the inspiration of a half-truth is naturally out of the question) with an almost daemonic energy. What, in any of these cases, would have happened to God’s omnipotence?

755. It therefore seems to me, on the most conservative estimate, to be wiser not to drag the supreme metaphysical factor into our calculations, at all events not at once, but, more modestly, to make an unknown psychic or perhaps psychoid238 factor in the human realm responsible for inspirations and suchlike happenings. This would make better allowance not only for the abysmal mixture of truth and error in the great majority of inspirations but also for the numerous contradictions in Holy Writ. The psychoid aura that surrounds consciousness furnishes us with better and less controversial possibilities of explanation and moreover can be investigated empirically. It presents a world of relatively autonomous “images,” including the manifold God-images, which whenever they appear are called “God” by naïve people and, because of their numinosity (the equivalent of autonomy!), are taken to be such. The various religious denominations support this traditional viewpoint, and their respective theologians believe themselves, inspired by God’s word, to be in a position to make valid statements about him. Such statements always claim to be final and indisputable. The slightest deviation from the dominant assumption provokes an unbridgeable schism. One cannot and may not think about an object held to be indisputable. One can only assert it, and for this reason there can be no reconciliation between the divergent assertions. Thus Christianity, the religion of brotherly love, offers the lamentable spectacle of one great and many small schisms, each faction helplessly caught in the toils of its own unique rightness.
756. We believe that we can make assertions about God, define him, form an opinion about him, differentiate him as the only true one amongst other gods. The realization might by this time be dawning that when we talk of

God or gods we are speaking of debatable images from the psychoid realm. The existence of a transcendental reality is indeed evident in itself, but it is uncommonly difficult for our consciousness to construct intellectual models which would give a graphic description of the reality we have perceived. Our hypotheses are uncertain and groping, and nothing offers us the assurance that they may ultimately prove correct. That the world inside and outside ourselves rests on a transcendental background is as certain as our own existence, but it is equally certain that the direct perception of the archetypal world inside us is just as doubtfully correct as that of the physical world outside us. If we are convinced that we know the ultimate truth concerning metaphysical things, this means nothing more than that archetypal images have taken possession of our powers of thought and feeling, so that these lose their quality as functions at our disposal. The loss shows itself in the fact that the object of perception then becomes absolute and indisputable and surrounds itself with such an emotional taboo that anyone who presumes to reflect on it is automatically branded a heretic and blasphemer. In all other matters everyone would think it reasonable to submit to objective criticism the subjective image he has devised for himself of some object. But in the face of possession or violent emotion reason is abrogated; the numinous archetype proves on occasion to be the stronger because it can appeal to a vital necessity. This is regularly the case when it compensates a situation of distress which no amount of reasoning can abolish. We know that an archetype can break with shattering force into an individual human life and into the life of a nation. It is therefore not surprising that it is called “God.” But as men do not always find themselves in immediate situations of distress, or do not always feel them to be such, there are also calmer moments in which reflection is possible. If one then examines a state of possession or an emotional seizure without prejudice, one will have to admit that the possession in itself yields nothing that would clearly and reliably characterize the nature of the “possessing” factor, although it is an essential part of the phenomenon that the “possessed” always feels compelled to make definite assertions. Truth and error lie so close together and often look so confusingly alike that nobody in his right senses could afford not to doubt the things that happen to him in the possessed state. I John 4 : 1 admonishes us: “Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God; because many false prophets are gone out

into the world.” This warning was uttered at a time when there was plenty of opportunity to observe exceptional psychic states. Although, as then, we think we possess sure criteria of distinction, the rightness of this conviction must nevertheless be called in question, for no human judgment can claim to be infallible.

757. in view of this extremely uncertain situation it seems to me very much more cautious and reasonable to take cognizance of the fact that there is not only a psychic but also a psychoid unconscious, before presuming to pronounce metaphysical judgments which are incommensurable with human reason. There is no need to fear that the inner experience will thereby be deprived of its reality and vitality. No experience is prevented from happening by a somewhat more cautious and modest attitude—on the contrary.
758. That a psychological approach to these matters draws man more into the centre of the picture as the measure of all things cannot be denied. But this gives him a significance which is not without justification. The two great world-religions, Buddhism and Christianity, have, each in its own way, accorded man a central place, and Christianity has stressed this tendency still further by the dogma that God became very man. No psychology in the world could vie with the dignity that God himself has accorded to him.

EPILOGUE

759. Alchemy, with its wealth of symbols, gives us an insight into an endeavour of the human mind which could be compared with a religious rite, an opus divinum. The difference between them is that the alchemical opus was not a collective activity rigorously defined as to its form and content, but rather, despite the similarity of their fundamental principles, an individual undertaking on which the adept staked his whole soul for the transcendental purpose of producing a unity. It was a work of reconciliation between apparently incompatible opposites, which, characteristically, were understood not merely as the natural hostility of the physical elements but at the same time as a moral conflict. Since the object of this endeavour was seen outside as well as inside, as both physical and psychic, the work extended as it were through the whole of nature, and its goal consisted in a symbol which had an empirical and at the same time a transcendental aspect.
760. Just as alchemy, tapping its way in the dark, groped through the endless mazes of its theoretical assumptions and practical experiments over a course of many centuries, so the psychology of the unconscious that began with C. G. Carus took up the trail that had been lost by the alchemists. This happened, remarkably enough, at a moment in history when the aspirations of the alchemists had found their highest poetic expression in Goethe’s Faust. At the time Carus wrote, he certainly could not have guessed that he was building the philosophical bridge to an empirical psychology of the future, which would take quite literally the old alchemical dictum: in stercore invenitur—“it is found in filth.” Not, this time, in the cheap, unseemly substance, which, rejected by all, could be picked up anywhere in the street, but rather in the distressing darkness of the human psyche, which meanwhile had become accessible to clinical observation. There alone could be found all those contradictions, those grotesque phantasms and scurrilous symbols which had fascinated the mind of the alchemists and confused them as much as illuminated them. And the same problem presented itself to the psychologist that had kept the alchemists in suspense for seventeen hundred years: What was he to do

with these antagonistic forces? Could he throw them out and get rid of them? Or had he to admit their existence, and is it our task to bring them into harmony and, out of the multitude of contradictions, produce a unity, which naturally will not come of itself, though it may—Deo concedente— with human effort?

761. Herbert Silberer has the merit of being the first to discover the secret threads that lead from alchemy to the psychology of the unconscious. The state of psychological knowledge at that time was still too primitive and still too much wrapped up in personalistic assumptions for the whole problem of alchemy to be understood psychologically. The conventional devaluation of alchemy on the one hand and of the psyche on the other had first to be cleared away. Today we can see how effectively alchemy prepared the ground for the psychology of the unconscious, firstly by leaving behind, in its treasury of symbols, illustrative material of the utmost value for modern interpretations in this field, and secondly by indicating symbolical procedures for synthesis which we can rediscover in the dreams of our patients. We can see today that the entire alchemical procedure for uniting the opposites, which I have described in the foregoing, could just as well represent the individuation process of a single individual, though with the not unimportant difference that no single individual ever attains to the richness and scope of the alchemical symbolism. This has the advantage of having been built up through the centuries, whereas the individual in his short life has at his disposal only a limited amount of experience and limited powers of portrayal. It is therefore a difficult and thankless task to try to describe the nature of the individuation process from case-material. Since one aspect tends to predominate in one case and another in another, and one case begins earlier and another later, and the psychic conditions vary without limit, only one or the other version or phase of the process can be demonstrated in any given instance. No case in my experience is comprehensive enough to show all the aspects in such detail that it could be regarded as paradigmatic. Anyone who attempted to describe the individuation process with the help of case-material would have to remain content with a mosaic of bits and pieces without beginning or end, and if he wanted to be understood he would have to count on a reader whose experience in the same field was equal to his own. Alchemy, therefore, has performed for me the great and invaluable service of providing material in which my

experience could find sufficient room, and has thereby made it possible for me to describe the individuation process at least in its essential aspects.

APPENDIX

LATIN AND GREEK TEXTS

The asterisks (*) in the footnotes refer to the following passages quoted by the author in Latin or Greek. In general, only translations are given in the body of the book. The entries below carry the pertinent footnote numbers.

1. THE COMPONENTS OF THE CONIUNCTIO

3. In hoc lapide sunt quatuor elementa et assimulatur mundo et mundi compositioni. / Natura, inquam, dum circumgyravit aureum circulum, in ipso motu qualitates quatuor in eo aequavit, hoc est, homogeneam illam simplicitatem in sese redeuntem quadravit, sive in quadrangulum duxit aequilaterum, hac ratione, ut contraria a contrariis et hostes ab hostibus aeternis quasi vinculis colligentur, et invicem teneantur. / In circulo sunt elementa coniuncta vera amicitia.

8. aquila volans per aerem et bufo gradiens per terram.

12. Desponsavi ego duo luminaria in actu, et facta est illa quasi aqua in actu habens duo lumina.

18. Hermes: Necesse est ut in fine mundi coelum et terra coniungantur, quod verbum est philosophicum.

20. Sic absconditur altitudo et manifestatur profunditas.

21. de mortuo facit vivum.

23. . . . consurgit aequalitas . . . ex quatuor repugnantibus, in natura communicantibus. / 

      .

26. Erat vir unus. Nos, qui adhuc peccatores sumus, non possumus istum titulum laudis acquirere, quia unus quisque nostrum non est ‘unus’, sed multi        Vides, quomodo ille qui putatur ‘unus’ esse, non

est ‘unus’, sed tot in eo personae videntur esse, quot mores, quia et secundum scripturas ‘insipiens sicut luna mutatur’. / Ubi peccata sunt, ibi est multitudo        ubi autem virtus, ibi singularitas, ibi unio. / Intellige

te habere intra temet ipsum greges boum        Intellige habere te et

greges ovium et greges caprarum        Intellige esse intra te etiam aves

coeli. Nec mireris quod haec intra te esse dicimus; intellige te et alium mundum esse in parvo et esse intra te solem, esse lunam, esse etiam stellas        Videas habere te omnia, quae mundus habet. / Quatuor in

caelo planetis imperfectioribus, quatuor in corpore nostro correspondere volunt elementa, ut Saturno, Mercurio, Veneri, et Marti, terra, aqua, aer, et ignis, ex quibus conflatum est, et infirmum propter partium imperfectionem. Plantetur itaque arbor ex eis, cuius radix adscribitur Saturno . . .

33. combinationes duarum contrarietatum, frigidum et humidum, quae

. . . non sunt amicabilia caliditati et siccitati.

34. Puerulus tuus senex est, o virgo, ipse est Antiquus dierum et omnia praecessit tempora.

40. Dum enim rostrum applicat pectori, totum collum cum rostro flectitur in circularem formam        Sanguis effluens e pectore mortuis

pullis reddit vitam.

41. Tanquam principium et fons, a quo        defluunt; et simul etiam finis

ultimus.

44. Omnem rem solidam penetrabit.

48. Talis est amor philosophicus, inter inanimatorum partes, et inimicitia, qualis in partibus hominis. Verum in illis, non magis quam in his, unio vera fieri non potest, corruptione dictarum partium non ablata prius ante coniunctionem: qua propter pacem inter inimicos est quod facias, ut amici conveniant in unum. In omnibus corporibus imperfectis, et ab ultimata sua perfectione deficientibus, sunt amicitia et inimicitia simul innatae; haec si tollatur hominis ingenio vel industria, necesse est alteram ad perfectionem suam ultimatam redire per artem, quam in hominis unione declaravimus.

49. Fertur etiam quod pellicanus in tantum pullos suos diligat, ut eos unguibus interimat. Tertia vero die prae dolore se ipsum lacerat, et sanguis de latere eius super pullos distillans eos a morte excitat. Pellicanus significat Dominum qui sic dilexit mundum ut pro eo daret Filium suum unigenitum, quem tercia die victorem mortis excitavit et super omne nomen exaltavit.

52. cuius vis est spiritualis sanguis id est tinctura        Nam corpus

incorporat spiritum per sanguinis tincturam; quia omne quod habet Spiritum, habet et sanguinem. / Sensibilis autem et vitalis (spiritus) sanguis est essentia; dicit enim alibi, omni spiritui carnis sanguis est.

53. Fili, accipere debes de pinguiori carne. / crescit ex carne et sanguine.

/ Ovum in carne capere. / Elige carnem teneram et habebis rem optimam. / An forte carnibus ad vesperam        ille significatur, qui

traditus est propter delicta nostra.

54. Et tunc accipe vitrum cum sponso et sponsa, et proiice eos in fornacem, et fac assare per tres dies, et tunc erunt duo in carne una.
55. Quemadmodum Christus        Lapis angularis ab aedificatoribus

reiectus in sacra scriptura vocatur; ita quoque Lapidi Sophorum idem accidit …

64. Recipit vim superiorum et inferiorum. Sic habebis gloriam totius mundi.

66. Mercurius Trismegistus        lapidem vocavit orphanum. / Hic lapis

Orphanus proprio nomine caret.

78. .

79.

Ipsa maritali dum nato foedere mater Jungitur, incestum ne videatur opus.

Sic etenim natura iubet, sic alma requirit Lex fati, nec ea est res male grata Deo.

83. .

95. .

109. Omnis Ecclesia una vidua est, deserta in hoc saeculo.

111. (Almana) Vidua. Est Malchuth, quando Tiphereth non est cum ipsa.

116. Luna, terra, sponsa, matrona, regina coeli, piscina, mare, puteus, arbor scientiae boni et mali, cerva amorum (ita vocatur Malchuth potissimum ob mysterium novilunii), venter.

120    quod Malchuth vocetur hortus irriguus Jesch. 58, 11 quando Jesod in

Ipsa est, eamque adimplet, atque irrigat aquis supernis. / cum Malchuth influxum accipit a 50 portis per Jesod, tunc vocatur sponsa.

136. Anima quippe humana recedens a sole iustitiae, ab illa scl. interna

contemplatione incommutabilis veritatis, omnes vires suas in terrena convertit et eo magis magisque obscuratur in interioribus ac superioribus suis; sed cum redire coeperit ad illam incommutabilem sapientiam, quanto magis ei propinquat affectu pietatis, tanto magis exterior homo corrumpitur, sed interior renovatur de die in diem omnisque lux illa ingenii, quae ad inferiora vergebat, ad superiora convertitur et a terrenis quodam modo aufertur, ut magis magisque huic saeculo moriatur et vita eius abscondatur cum Christo in Deo.

145. die enim quarto in quartum, quartanam naturaliter patitur.

150. Hoc itaque completo scias quod habes corpus corpora perforans et naturam naturam continentem et naturam natura laetantem, quod profecto tyriaca philosophorum vocatur et dicitur vipera, quia sicut vipera, concipiendo prae libidinis ardore, caput secat masculi et pariendo moritur et per medium secatur. Sic lunaris humor, concipiens lucem Solarem sibi convenientem, Solem necat et pariendo progeniem Philosophorum, ipsa similiter moritur et uterque parens moriendo animas filio tradunt et moriuntur et pereunt. Et parentes sunt cibus filii.

151        incineretur corpus residuum, quod vocatur terra, a qua est extracta

tinctura per aquam        Deinde capiti suo iunge et caudae.

152.  .

153. Sic tyrium nostrum (colorem) in unoquoque regiminis gradu sui coloris nomine nuncupamus. / Hoc est sulphur rubeum, luminosum in tenebris: et est hyacinthus rubeus, et toxicum igneum, et interficiens, et Leo victor, et malefactor, et ensis scindens, et Tyriaca sanans omnem infirmitatem.

161. Qui me Miserculam i.e. me habentem materiam Mercurialem et Lunarem        ac dilectum meum i.e. pinguedinem solarem mecum i.e.

(c)um humiditate Lunari vinculaverit i.e. in unum corpus coniunxerit,

Sagitta Ex Pharetra nostra.

164. .

170. Pulchra es amica mea, suavis et decora sicut Jerusalem: Terribilis ut castrorum acies ordinata. 4: Averte oculos tuos a me quia ipsi me avolare fecerunt        9: Quae est ista, quae progreditur quasi aurora

consurgens pulchra ut luna, electa ut sol, terribilis ut castrorum acies ordinata?

176. Procedit Christus quasi sponsus de thalamo suo, praesagio nuptiarum exiit ad campum saeculi        pervenit usque ad crucis torum et ibi firmavit

ascendendo coniugium; ubi eum sentiret anhelantem in suspiriis creaturam, commercio pietatis se pro coniuge dedit ad poenam . . . et copulavit sibi perpetuo iure matronam.

178. Per cor amor intelligitur, qui in corde esse dicitur, et continens pro contento ponitur, et est similitudo, ab illo qui nimirum aliquam amat, et eius cor amore vulneratur. Ita Christus amore Ecclesiae vulneratus est in cruce. Prius vulnerasti cor meum, quando causa amoris tui flagellatus sum, ut te facerem mihi sororem . . . iterum vulnerasti cor meum, quando amore tui in cruce pendens vulneratus sum, ut te sponsam mihi facerem gloriae participem, et hoc in uno oculorum tuorum.

181        illo vulnerato, neci dato ros iungitur.

185. Hic est infans Hermaphroditus, qui a primis suis incunabulis per Canem Corascenum rabidum morsu infectus est, unde perpetua hydrophobia stultescit insanitque. / vilescit per ca[r]nem infirmatus Leo.

186. Naturae siquidem per serpentem introducto morbo, lethalique inflicto vulneri quaerendum est remedium.

188. Mundi vitam enim        esse naturae lucem atque caeleste sulphur, cuius

subiectum est firmamentalis humor aethereus et calor, ut sol et luna.

190. Alcumistas omnium hominum esse perversissimos. 193.

Minuitur Luna, ut elementa repleat. Hoc est vere grande mysterium.

Donavit hoc ei qui omnibus donavit gratiam.

Exinanivit earn, ut repleat,

Qui etiam se exinanivit, ut omnes repleret. Exinanivit enim se ut descenderet nobis, Descendit nobis, ut ascenderet omnibus … Ergo annuntiavit Luna mysterium Christi.

196. Ut cum Deus homo, cum immortalis mortuus, cum aeternus sepultus est, non sit intelligentiae ratio, sed potestatis exceptio; ita rursum e contrario non sensus, sed virtutis modus sit, ut Deus ex homine, ut immortalis ex mortuo, ut aeternus sit ex sepulto.

197. Quia lassae erant creaturae ferendo figuras maiestatis eius, eas suis figuris exoneravit sicut exoneravit ventrem qui eum gestavit.

218        umbra mortis, quoniam tempestas dimersit me; tunc coram me

procident Aethiopes et inimici mei terram meam lingent /        at qui de

dracone comedit non alius est, quam spirituals Aethiops per draconis

laqueos mutatus et ipse in serpentem.

221. .

227. Lapis . . . incipit propter angustiam carceris sudare.
228. Hic princeps sudat ex tribulatione sua cuius sudor pluviae sunt. / In postremis suis operationibus . . . liquor obscuras ac rubens instar sanguinis, ex sua materia suoque vase guttatim exudat; inde praesagium protulerunt, postremis temporibus hominem purissimum in terras venturum, per quem liberatio mundi fieret, hunc ipsum guttas rosei rubeive coloris et sanguineas emissurum, quo mundus a labe redimeretur.
229. Et Marcus dicit, concipiunt in balneis, significat calorem lentum et humidum balneorum, in quibus sudat lapis in principio dissolutionis suae.

/ Tunc accipitur corpus perfectissimum, et ponitur ad ignem Philosophorum; tunc . . . illud corpus humectatur, et emittit sudorem quendam sanguineum post putrefactionem et mortificationem, Rorem dico Coelicum, qui quidem Ros dicitur Mercurius Philosophorum sive Aqua permanens.

232. Quae cum adparuerit, maribus femina decora adparet, feminis vero adolescentem speciosum et concupiscibilem demonstrat.

2. THE PARADOXA

1. Antiquissimi philosophorum viderunt hunc lapidem in ortu et sublimatione sua . . . omnibus rebus mundi tam realibus quam intellectualibus . . . posse in similitudinibus convenire. Unde quaecumque dici et tractari possunt de virtutibus et vitiis, de coelo et omnibus tam corporeis quam incorporeis, de mundi creatione . . . et de Elementis omnibus . . . et de corruptibilibus et incorruptibilibus et visibilibus et invisibilibus et de spiritu et anima et corpore . . . et de vita et morte, et bono et malo, de veritate et falsitate, de unitate et multitudine, de paupertate et divitiis, de volante et non volante, de bello et pace, de victore et victo et labore et requie, de somno et vigilia, de conceptione et partu, de puero et sene, de masculo et foemina, de forti et debili, de albis et rubeis et quibuslibet coloratis, de inferno et abysso et eorum tenebris, ac etiam ignibus sulphureis, et de paradiso et eius celsitudine, et claritate ac etiam pulchritudine et gloria eius inaestimabili. Et breviter de iis, quae sunt et de iis quae non sunt et de iis quae loqui licet et quae loqui non licet possunt omnia dici de hoc lapide venerando.

6. (illa res) vilis et pretiosa, obscura celata et a quolibet nota, unius nominis et multorum nominum.

8. 

16. Currens sine cursu, movens sine motu.

17. Fac Mercurium per Mercurium.

21. Tot haec nostra materia habet nomina, quod res sunt in mundo.

24. 

27. Iste enim spiritus generatur ex rebus ponticis et ipse vocat ipsum humidum siccum igneum.

30. Puncti proinde, monadisque ratione, res et esse coeperunt primo.

33. Punctum solis id est germen ovi quod est in vitello, quod germen movetur calore gallinae.

34. O admiranda sapientia, quae ex punctulo vix intelligibili, quicquid unquam ingentis machinae huius, vastae ponderosaeque molis a creatione factum est, solo verbo potuit excitare.

37. Ego ducam te ad aeternam mortem, ad inferos et ad domum tenebrosam. Cui anima: Anime mi spiritus. Quare ad eum sinum non reducis, a quo me adulando exceperis? credebam te mihi deuinctum necessitudine. Ego quidem sum amica tua, ducamque te ad aeternam gloriam. / Sed miser ego abire cogor, cum te super omnes lapides preciosos constituero beatamque fecero. Quare te obsecro, cum ad regni solium deveneris, mei aliquando memor existes. / Quod si is spiritus apud animam et corpus manserit, perpetua ibidem esse corruptio.

42. Deus est figura intellectualis, cuius centrum est ubique, circumferentia vero nusquam.

49. triplici muro Castrum aureum circumdatum.
50. aeternitatis imago visibilis.
51. unus in essentia / una substantia homogenea.

59. .

60. Rex natans in mari, clamans alta voce: Qui me eripiet, ingens

praemium habebit. / . . . quis est homo qui vivit sciens et intelligens eruens animam meam de manu inferi?

72. Fuit quidam homo, qui nihil quidquam profuit nec detineri potuit: omnes enim carceres confregit, imo et poenas omnes parvi fecit, interea quidam simplex vel humilis et sincerus repertus est vir, qui hujus naturam bene noverat, et consilium tale dederat, ut is omnibus vestibus exutus denudetur. / Vestes abiectae illius ad pedes illius iacebant erantque nimis rancidae, foetidae, venenosae etc. atque tandem hunc in modum loqui incipiebat: ‘Stolam meam exui, quomodo eandem iterum induam?’

76. Quousque terra lucescat veluti oculi piscium.

77. Grana instar piscium oculorum. / In principio . . . quasi grana rubea et in coagulatione velut oculi piscium. / Quando veluti oculi piscium in eo elucescunt.

79. Hic lapis est subtus te, supra te, et ergo a te, et circa te.

80. Cuius pulli rostro eruunt matri oculos.

86. Alterius profani sacramenti signum est  . . . alius est lapis, quem deus in confirmandis fundamentis promissae Hierusalem missurum se esse promisit: Christus nobis venerandi lapidis significatione monstratur.

91. 

92. Est quasi oculus quidam visusque animae, quo saepe affectus animae nobis et consilium indicatur, cuius radiis et intuitu omnia coalescunt.

97. 

.

101. 

.

104. Si homo res in maiori mundo transmutare novit . . . quanto magis id in microcosmo, hoc est, in se ipso noverit, quod extra se potest, modo cognoscat hominis in homine thesaurum existere maximum et non extra ipsum.

107. Chemicam artem naturaliter exercet Archeus in homine.
108. Quia homo est in corruptione generatus, odio prosequitur eum sua propria substantia.
109. Armoniac sal id est stella. / Ista est optima, quae extrahitur vi chalybis nostri qui invenitur in ventre Arietis . . . ante debitam coctionem est summum venenum.
110. Homo quidam est esca, in qua[m] per cotem scl. Mercurium, et chalybem (scl.) Caelum, ignis huiusmodi scintillae excussae, fomentum accipiunt, viresque suas exserunt.

112. Nam in rerum natura nihil est, quod non in se mali tantum quantum boni contineat.

133. Matrimonium enim quasi pallium hoc quicquid est vitii, tegit et abscondit.
134. Scorpio i.e. venenum. Quia mortificat seipsum et seipsum vivificat. / deus iste vester non biformis est, sed multiformis . . .

ipse est basiliscus et scorpio . . . ipse malitiosus anguis . . . ipse tortuosus draco, qui hamo ducitur . . . iste deus vester Lernaei anguis crinibus adornatur.

135. . . .  . . .   . . . /

Spiritus tingens et aqua metallina perfundens se in corpus ipsum vivificando.

137. Hanc Omnia esse, Omnia in se habere, quibus indiget ad sui perfectionem, Omnia de ipsa praedicari posse et ipsam vicissim de omnibus.

138. Unum enim est totum, ut ait maximus Chimes, ob quod

totum non haberet totum nihil totum esset. /

sunt omnia, et si

.

140. materiam nostram simul esse in caelo, terris et aquis, tanquam totam, in toto, et totam in qualibet parte: adeo ut partes illae, alioquin separabiles, nusquam ab invicem separari possint, postquam unum facta sunt: hinc tota Lex et Prophetia chemica pendere videtur.

144. Quisnam igitur liber? Sapiens, sibi qui imperiosus, quem neque pauperies neque mors neque vincula terrent, responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores fortis, et in se ipso totus teres atque rotundus.

146. Nam ipsa est continens contentum in se convertens, atque sic est sepulchrum seu continens, non habens in se cadaver seu contentum,

veluti Lothi coniunx ipsa sibi sepulchrum fuisse dicitur absque cadavere et cadaver absque sepulchro.

148. crassities aëris et omnia membra in atomos divellantur. /

 / Et sicut sol a principio occultatur in lunam, ita in fine occultatus extrahitur a luna.

150. Nam et eius (corporis mortui) odor est malus, et odori sepulchrorum assimilatur.
151. Purus laton tamdiu decoquitur, donec veluti oculi piscium elucescat.
152. Posito hoc Uno in suo sepulcro sphaerico. / (Vas) dicitur etiam sepulcrum.

157. Tumulus ergo in quo Rex noster sepelitur Saturnus . . . dicitur.
158. In adytis habent idolum Osiridis sepultum.
159. Hinc dicit Avicenna: Quamdiu apparuerit nigredo, dominatur obscura foemina, et ipsa est prior vis nostri lapidis.

162. Extat epitaphium antiquum Bononiae quod multorum fatigavit ingenia

. . . Sunt qui hoc aenigma interpretentur animum hominis, alii nubium aquam, alii Nioben in Saxum mutatam, alii alia.

166. (Epitaphium) loquitur nempe . . . de filia Laelio nascitura, eademque sponsa Agathoni designata, sed non filia, sed non sponsa, quia concepta, non edita; quia non orta, sed aborta; qua propter tali ac tanta spe frustratus Agatho, jam pridem delectus in coniugem, et a sorte elusus, hac Aenigmatica Inscriptione iuremerito sic et ipse lusit, vel ludentis speciem praebuit.

169. Itaque vocatus sum Hermes Trismegistus, habens tres partes philosophiae totius mundi.

170. Numero Deus impari gaudet.

174. Hic serpens est calidus, quaerens exitum ante ortum, perdere volens foetum, cupiens abortum.

175. Naturae subtilitas . . . causam dedit augmentationis et vitae, et se in naturas perfectissimas reduxit. / Hic Serpens . . . tanquam Bufo nigerrimus tumescit et . . . petit a sua tristitia liberari.

179. Dico Aeliam Laeliam Crispem ex Hamadryadibus unam fuisse . . . i.e. Quercui in Suburbano agro Bononiensi applicitam, seu inclusam, quae mollissima simul et asperrima apparens jam a bis mille forsitan annis inconstantissimos Protei in morem tenens vultus Lucii Agathonis Prisci

civis tunc Bononiensis Amores ex Chao certe, i.e. confusione Agathonia

. . . elicitos anxiis curis et solicitudinibus implevit.

182. Tertium tandem aenigma erit de Quercu, mundum elementarem repraesentantem in caelesti quodammodo viridario plantata, ubi Sol et Luna duo veluti flores circumferuntur.

189. Induxit quercum veterem fissam per medium, (qui) tuetur a solis radiis, umbram faciens.
190. Primo duro lapide et claro clauditur, tum demum cava quercu.

193. .

195. Per matricem, intendit fundum cucurbitae. / Vas spagiricum ad similitudinem vasis naturalis esse construendum.
196. Locus generationis, licet sit artificialis, tamen imitatur naturalem, quia est concavus, conclusus.

198. Quod enim est matrix embrioni, hoc est aqua fideli. In aqua enim fingitur et formatur. Primum dicebatur: Producant aquae reptile animae viventis. Ex quo autem Jordanis fluenta ingressus est Dominus non amplius reptilia animarum viventium, sed animas rationales Spiritum Sanctum ferentes aqua producit.

199. Arbores quae in ipso (paradiso) sunt, concupiscentiae sunt et ceterae seductiones corrumpentes cogitationes hominum. Illa autem arbor quae est in paradiso, ex qua agnoscitur bonum, ipse est Jesus et scientia eius quae est in mundo; quam qui acceperit, discernit bonum a malo.

204. Item dixit Marchos et est tempus in isto genito quod nascitur de quo facit talem similitudinem. Tunc aedificabimus sibi talem domum, quae dicitur monumentum Sihoka. Dixit, terra est apud nos quae dicitur tormos, in qua sunt reptilia comedentes opaca ex lapidibus adurentibus, et bibunt super eis sanguinem hircorum nigrorum, manentes in umbra, concipiunt in balneis, et (pariunt) in aëre et gradiuntur supra mare et manent in monumentis et etiam manent in sepulchris, et pugnat reptile contra masculum suum, et in sepulchro manet masculus eius 40 noctibus

…

215. Christus in deserto quadraginta diebus totidemque noctibus ieiunavit, quemadmodum etiam per quadraginta menses in terra concionatus est, et miracula edidit, per quadraginta horas in sepulcro iacuit: quadraginta dies, inter resurrectionem a mortuis et ascensionem suam ad coelos, cum discipulis conversatus vivum esse ipsis repraesentavit.

219. Marmor coruscans est elixir ad album. / Et proiicient semen super marmore simulachrorum et in aqua sibi simili deifica, et venient corvi volantes, et cadunt super illud simulacrum. Intendit nigredinem . . . per corvos. / Maximum quidem mysterium est creare animas, atque corpus inanime in statuam viventem confingere. / Tunc autem haec fient, cum statua venerit. / Semper extrahis oleum (= anima) a corde statuarum: quia anima est ignis in similitudine, et ignis occultatus. / Calefacimus eius aquam extractam a cordibus statuarum ex lapidibus. / Animas venerari in lapidibus: est enim mansio eorum in ipsis.

236. Cum mea me mater gravida gestaret in alvo,

Quid pareret fertur consuluisse deos.

Phoebus ait: Puer est; Mars: Femina; Juno: Neutrum. Jam qui sum natus Hermaphroditus eram.

Quaerenti letum dea sic ait: Occidet armis;

Mars: Cruce; Phoebus: Aqua. Sors rata quaeque fuit. Arbor obumbrat aquas; conscendo, labitur ensis Quem tuleram casu, labor et ipse super;

Pes haesit ramis, caput incidit amne, tulique

—Vir, mulier, neutrum—flumina, tela, crucem.

237. Vir non vir, videns non videns, in arbore non in arbore, sedentem non sedentem, volucrem non volucrem, percussit non percussit, lapide non lapide.
238. 

242.        ,

.

243. Igneus est illi vigor et coelestis origo, a qua nunc hic Haelia nominatur.

245. Habet in se . . . totius Humanitatis quasi dicerem        .
246. Sic si seipsam volet anima cognoscere, in animam debet intueri, inque eum praecipue locum, in quo inest virtus animae, sapientia.
247. Nihil aliud esse hominem quam animam ipsius.
248. Animamque ut ideam hoc Epitaphio notari.
249. Prima materia cum nihil sit, sed imaginatione sola comprehendatur, nullo istorum locorum contineri potest.

251. Scopum Autoris esse mirifice complecti Generationis, Amicitiae ac Privationis attributa.

255.

Crispulus ille, quis est, uxori semper adhaeret? Qui Mariane tuae? Crispulus iste quis est?

260. (Anima) quae extra corpus multa profundissima imaginatur et hisce assimilatur Deo.

3. THE PERSONIFICATION OF THE OPPOSITES

4. Domine, quamvis rex sis, male tamen imperas et regis.
5. Aurum nostrum non est aurum vulgi.
6. Aurum et argentum in metallina sua forma lapidis nostri materiam non esse.
7. Substantia aequalis, permanens, fixa, longitudine aeternitatis. / Est enim Sol radix incorruptibilis. / Immo non est aliud fundamentum artis quam sol et eius umbra.

9. Scias igitur quod ignis sulphur est, id est Sol.

10. Sol noster est rubeus et ardens. / Sol nihil aliud est, quam sulphur et argentum vivum.

15. (Tractans de quadam virtute invisibili) vocat eam balsamum, omnem corporis naturam excèdentem, qui duo corpora coniunctione conservat, et coeleste corpus una cum quatuor elementis sustentat.

18. Fatuum esset cum plurimis credere, solem esse duntaxat ignem caelestem.

20. Ut fons vitae corporis humani, centrum est cordis eius, vel id potius quod in eo delitescit arcanum, in quo viget calor naturalis.
21. .
22. quorumvis seminaria virtus atque formalis delitescit. / Punctum solis

i. e. germen ovi, quod est in vitello.

23. Masculinum et universale semen primum et potissimum est eius naturae sulphur, generationum prima pars omnium, ac potissima causa. Proinde a Paracelso prolatum est, sol et homo per hominem, generant hominem.
24. Terra fecit Lunam . . . deinde ortus est sol . . . post tenebras quas posuisti ante ortum solis in ipsa.

27. Et hoc modo Alchemia est supra naturam et est divina. Et in hoc

lapide est tota difficultas istius artis, neque potest assignari sufficiens ratio naturalis, quare hoc ita esse possit. Et sic cum intellectus non possit hoc comprehendere, nec satisfacere sibi, sed oportet ipsum credere, sicut in miraculosis rebus divinis, ita ut fundamentum fidei Christianae, quod supra naturam existit, a non credentibus primo existimetur verum omnino, quoniam finis eius miraculose et supra naturam completur. Ideo tunc solus Deus est operator, quiescente natura artifice.

29. Cum non suffecissem mirari de tanta rei virtute sibi coelitus indita et infusa.

30. Porro in humano corpore latet quaedam substantia caelestis naturae paucissimis nota, quae nullo penitus indiget medicamento, sed ipsamet est sibi medicamentum incorruptum.

33. Non intelligit animalis homo . . . facti sumus sicut lapides oculos habentes et non videntes.

37. Cum Solem . . . Plato visibilem filium Dei appellet, cur non intelligamus nos imaginem esse invisibilis filii. Qui si lux vera est illuminans omnem mentem expressissimum habet simulachrum hunc Solem, qui est lux imaginaria illuminans omne corpus.
38. Qui autem sapientum venenum sole et eius umbra tinxit, ad maximum pervenit arcanum. / In umbra solis est calor Lunae.
39. Fili, extrahe a radio umbram suam.
40. terra auri suo proprio spiritu solvitur. / . . . obscuratus est Sol in ortu suo. Et haec denigratio est operis initium, putrefactionis indicium, certumque commixtionis principium.
41. In manifesto sunt corporalia et in occulto spiritualia.
42. Sicut sol a principio occultatur in Lunam, ita in fine occultatus extrahitur a Luna.

45. quae ex radiis Solis vel Lunae vi magnetis extracta est.

46. Sine sole terreno opus Philosophicum non perficitur.

50. Sicut enim sol sub nube, sic sol iustitiae latuit sub humana carne.

81. Sulphur est omne id quod incenditur, nequicquam concipit flammam nisi ratione sulphuris. / Sulphur enim aliud nihil est quam purus ignis occultus in mercurio. / simplex ignis vivus, alia corpora mortua

vivificans.

97. Sulfura sunt animae, quae in quatuor fuerant occultae corporibus.

101. quousque natus viridis tibi appareat, qui eius est anima, quam viridem avem et aes et sulphur philosophi nuncupaverunt.

104. Pater et semen virile. / Substantia sulphuris quasi semen paternum, activum et formativum.

108. Sed quod maius est, in Regno eius est speculum in quo totus Mundus videtur. Quicunque in hoc speculum inspicit, partes sapientiae totius Mundi in illo videre et addiscere potest, atque ita sapientissimus in hisce Tribus Regnis evadet.

109. Domine, scitne etiam Sulphur aliquid in metallis? Vox: Dixi tibi, quod omnia scit et in metallis multo melius quam alibi. / est cor omnium rerum.

116. candelulae, quas vetulae ad accendendum ignem vulgo vendunt. / elychnia ex sulphure, quo subducuntur fila aut ligna.

130. In Sulphure Philosophorum totum hoc arcanum latet, quod etiam in penetralibus Mercurii continetur.

133. Caput eius vivit in aeternum et ideo caput denominatur vita gloriosa, et angeli serviunt ei.

140. Animans autem vis, tanquam mundi glutinum, inter spiritum atque corpus medium est, atque utriusque vinculum, in Sulphure nimirum rubentis atque transparentis olei cuiusdam, veluti Sol in Majore Mundo, et cor Microcosmi.

141. ab omni feculentia terrestri, et cadit Lucifer: hoc est, immunditia et terra maledicta e coelo aureo.

143. pinguedo in cavernis terrae.

146. Res ex qua sunt res est Deus invisibilis et immobilis, cuius voluntate intelligentia condita est, et voluntate et intelligentia est anima simplex, per animam sunt naturae discretae, ex quibus generatae sunt compositae.

149. Non habet in actu suo finem, quia tingit in infinitum.

170. Idque Philosophi diversimodo indigitarunt, atque Sponso et Sponsae (quemadmodum etiam Salomon in Cantico Canticorum suo ait) compararunt.

177. Verum Luna, cum infimus sit planetarum, ut matrix concipere fertur virtutes astrorum omnium, rebusque inferioribus deinceps impartiri . . .

Luna universas siderum vires . . . gignendis rebus cunctis et potissimum earum seminibus infert inseritque. / . . . etiam in interraneis eiusdem (scl. terrae) visceribus lapidum, metallorum, imo animantium species excitando condendoque.

180. Iste vult concumbere cum matre sua in medio terrae. / Et coelum corporum incorruptibilium et inalterabilium sedes et vas est Luna, quae humiditati praesidet, aquam et terram repraesentat.
181. Cum autem videris terram sicut nivem albissimam . . . est cinis a cinere et terra extractus, sublimatus, honoratus . . . est quaesitum bonum, terra alba foliata.
182. Primum enim opus ad Album in Domo Lunae.

188. Sed nescio quae proprietas . . . et quaedam natura inest lumini, quod de ea defluit, quae humectet corpora et velut occulto rore madefaciat.

191. . / mortalium corporum autor et conditrix /  autem, id est crescendi natura, de lunari ad nos globositate perveniunt.
192. 

197. Forsitan vultis videre sacratissimas arbores Solis et Lunae, quae annuntient vobis futura.

204. In maris Luna est spongia plantata.

205. Illud vero quod est vapor, vel in eis partibus subtilitas non retinetur nisi a corpore duro . . . et quandoque est lapis qui circundat substantias velut spongia. / Sol et Luna cum prima aqua calcinantur philosophice, ut corpora aperiantur, et fiant spongiosa et subtilia, ut aqua secunda melius possit ingredi. / Pars superior est anima, quae totum lapidem vivificat et reviviscere facit. / Zoophyton, neque animal, neque frutex, sed tertiam habet quandam naturam.

208. quod radices suarum minerarum sunt in aëre, et summitates in terra. Et quando evelluntur a suis locis, auditur sonus terribilis, et sequitur timor magnus. Quare vade cito, quia cito evanescunt.

219. Et sicut omnes res fuerunt ab uno, meditatione unius: sic omnes res natae fuerunt ab hac una re, adaptatione. / Pater eius est Sol, mater eius Luna; portavit illud ventus in ventre suo. / Aër mediator inter ignem (= Sol) et aquam (= Luna) per calorem et humiditatem suam. / Aër est vita uniuscuiusque rei. / Natus sapientiae in aëre nascitur.

220        spiritus et anima quando decocti fuerint, in iteratione destillationis,

et tunc permiscentur permixtione universali, et unus retinebit alterum et fient unum. Unum in subtilitate et spiritualitate …

227. Dixit magister noster Belenius Philosophus, ponas lumen tuum in vase vitreo claro et nota quod omnis sapientia mundi huius circa ista tria versatur.
228. Una vero die vocavit me magister meus Bolemus Philosophus et dixit mihi: eja fili, spero te esse hominem spiritualis intellectus, et quod poteris pertingere ad gradum supremum sapientiae.

234. .

239. Ciconia serpentes devorat, carnes eius contra omnia venena valent.

243. Natus est draco in nigredine, et . . . interficit seipsum.

244. Mundi animam praecipue in Sole collocamus.

248. Draco non moritur nisi cum fratre suo et sorore sua.

253. intellectum qui actu est, Lunam eum, qui est potentia.

258. Hinc illud Chaldaeorum: Vas tuum inhabitant bestiae terrae, et apud Platonem in republica discimus habere nos domi diversa genera brutorum.

260. Et lunari certe semicirculo ( ) ad solare ( ) complementum perducto: Factum est vespere et mane dies unus. Sit ergo primus, quo lux est facta Philosophorum.
261. Lunam terram statuimus infimam ignobilissimamque omnium siderum, uti est terra omnium elementorum opacitate, itidem substantiae et maculis illi persimilem.
262. Lunam quidem scimus omnibus inferiorem.

270. Luna enim est umbra Solis, et cum corporibus corruptibilibus consumitur et per ipsius corruptionem . . . Leo eclipsatur.
271. Et sicut aetheris et aëris: ita divinorum et caducorum luna confinium est.
272. A luna deorsum natura incipit caducorum, ab hac animae sub numerum dierum cadere et sub tempus incipiunt        Nec dubium est, quin ipsa sit

mortalium corporum et autor et conditrix.

274. Secunda empirica (metodica) i.e. experientissima inventa est ab Esculapio.

276        quod fieri dicunt, cum Lunae lumen incipit crescere, usque ad

quintam decimam Lunam, et rursus ad tricesimam minui, et redire ad cornua, donee nihil penitus lucis in ea appareat. Secundum hanc

opinionem Luna in allegoria . . . significat ecclesiam, quod ex parte quidem spirituali lucet ecclesia, ex parte autem carnali obscura est.

280. mitis electis, terribilis reprobis, pastor verus. / vel qui alii hujus gregis canes vocantur, nisi doctores sancti?

283. [Hermes] dixit: Fili, accipe canem masculum Corascenen et caniculam Armeniae, et iunge in simul, et parient canem coloris coeli, et imbibe ipsum una siti ex aqua maris: quia ipse custodiet tuum amicum et custodiet te ab inimico tuo et adiuvabit te ubicunque sis, semper tecum existendo in hoc mundo et in alio. Et voluit dicere Hermes, pro cane et canicula, res quae conservant corpora a combustione ignis et eius caliditate.

285. Hali, Philosophus et Rex Arabiae in suo Secreto dicit: Accipe canem coëtaneum, et catulam Armeniae, iunge simul, et hi duo parient tibi filium canem, coloris coelici: et iste filius servabit te in domo tua ab initio in hoc Mundo et in alio.

299. Rumpe ergo domum, frange parietes, purissimum inde extrahe succum cum sanguine; coque ut edere possis. Unde dicit Arnaldus in libro Secretorum: Purga lapidem: tere portam: frange caniculam: elige carnem teneram, et habebis rem optimam. In una ergo re omnia membra latent, omnia metalla lucent. Horum duo sunt artifices, duo vasa, duo tempora, duo fructus, duo fines, una salus.

305. Utraque avis volans ad regum mensas et capita salit. / Et venient corvi volantes et cadunt supra illud.

306. Recipe Gallum, crista rubea coronatum et vivum plumis priva.

311. Aquae . . ., quae Canis Balsami dicitur, sive lac virginis, aut argentum vivum nostrum, seu anima, aut ventus aut cauda draconis.

315        recipit ille globus carnem, id est coagulationem, et sanguinem, id est

tincturam. / Ex his possunt philosophicae transmutationes intelligi: nonne scimus et panis et vini puriorem substantiam in carnem et sanguinem transmutari / Iam suam carnem sanguineam et rubeam tradit omnibus manducandam. / habere scientiam corporis, grossi, turbidi, carnei, quod est pondus naturarum, et pervenit ad animam simplicem.

316. Est enim lapis unus, una medicina, cui nil extranei additur, nec diminuitur, nisi quod superflua removentur. / Unus est lapis, una medicina, unum vas, unum regimen, unaque dispositio.

319. Primum enim opus ad Album in domo Lunae, secundum in secunda

Mercurii domo terminari debet. Primum autem opus ad rubeum in secundo Veneris domicilio; postremum vero in altero regali Jovis solio desinet, a quo Rex noster potentissimus coronam pretiosissimis Rubinis contextam suscipiet. / Albus (lapis) in occasu Solis incipit apparere super facies aquarum, abscondens se usque ad mediam noctem et postea vergit in profundum. Rubeus vero ex opposito operatur, quia incipit ascendere super aquas in ortu Solis usque ad meridiem et postea descendit in profundum.

320. Et opus secundum est albificatio et rubificatio, et sapientes haec duo opera in unum contraxerunt. Nam quando loquuntur de uno, loquuntur etiam et de alio, unde diversificantur legentibus eorum scripta.
321. Cur arborem dimisisti narrare, cuius fructum qui comedit, non esuriet unquam? / Dico quod ille senex de fructibus illius arboris comedere non cessat ad numeri perfectionem, quousque senex ille iuvenis fiat        Pater

filius factus est.

322. Tibimet, Dei vates, in visione visus es tanquam vitis ampla, universum orbem implens divinis verbis, quasi fructibus. / An ignoratis quod tota divina pagina parabolice procedit? Nam Christus        modum servavit

eundem et dixit: Ego sum vitis vera.

324. Spagyri . . . ex ipsa Luna oleum eliciunt        adversus morbum caducum,

omnesque cerebri affectus.

326. .

329. In philosophica Mercurii sublimatione sive praeparatione prima Herculeus labor operanti incumbit        limen enim a cornutis belluis

custoditur        earum ferocitatem sola Dianae insignia et Veneris

columbae mulcebunt, si te fata vocant.

335. Claves habet ad carceres infernales, ubi sulphur ligatum iacet.

337.  . . .        (        Miller)   (

 Diels) .

350. Columba fuit Dominus Jesus . . . dicens Pax Vobis        En Columba, en

oliva virens in ore. / Unde Propheta exclamat: Quis dabit mihi pennas [sic]ut columbae, videlicet cogitationes contemplationesque immaculatas ac simplices.

358. Ego sum illuminans omnia mea et facio lunam apparere patenter de interiore de patri meo Saturno et etiam de matre dominante, quae mihi inimicatur.

360. matrem et uxorem solis, quae foetum spagiricum a sole conceptum in sua matrice uteroque vento gestat in aëre.

369        cum hac tinctura vivificantur omnes mortui, ut semper vivant, et hoc

est fermentum primum elementatum, et est ad Lunam, et hoc est lumen omnium luminum, et est flos et fructus omnium luminum, quod illuminat omnia.

370. Primum namque aqua destillata pro Luna aestumatur: Sol enim, tamquam ignis, in ea occultatus est.

379. Quartus est Infemalis intelligibili oppositus, ardoris et incendii absque ullo lumine.

383. Sal autem reperitur in nobili quodam Sale et in rebus omnibus; quo circa veteres Philosophi illud vulgarem Lunam appellarunt.

384. (Deum habere) circa se ipsum amorem. Quem alii spiritum intellectualem asseruere et igneum, non habentem formam, sed transformantem se in quaecumque voluerit, et coaequantem se universis.

. . . Unde rite per quandam similitudinem animae naturae Deum aut Dei virtutem, quae omnes res sustinet, Animam mediam naturam, aut animam Mundi appellamus.

397. Primo fit cinis, postea sal, et de illo sale per diversas operationes Mercurius Philosophorum.

404. Qui non gustaverit saporem salium, nunquam veniet ad optatum fermentum fermenti.

410. Alexander Magnus, Macedoniae Rex, ad nos, in Philosophia sua ita ait: Benedictus Deus in coelo siet, qui artem hanc in Sale creavit.

425. (In initio) Sal est nigrum ferme ac foetidum. 441.

Est lapis occultus, et in imo fonte sepultus, Vilis et eiectus, fimo vel stercore tectus …

Et lapis hic avis, et non lapis, aut avis hic est …

… nunc spuma maris vel acetum,

. . . .

Nunc quoque gemma salis, Almisadir sal generalis

. . . .

Nunc mare purgatum cum sulphure purificatum …

445        cuius collum aureus fulgor, reliquum corpus purpureus color in

pennis cinxit.

451. Ad hoc, scl. (corpus) spirituale, ignis, ad illud vero scl. corruptibile Sal

refertur.

453. Profundum maris sedem intelligamus inferni.

462. Diabolus maria undique circumdat et undique pontum.

463. (imaginationis) res amaras ut lachrymas, tristitiam et vermem conscientiae.

464. Gustus torquebitur perpetua fame sitique rabiosa, in quarum levamen dabitur miseris Damnatis pro cybo absynthium, pro potu autem aqua fellis.

466. Mare Rubrum significat Baptismum.

467. Mare rubrum est baptismus sanguine Christi rubicundus, in quo hostes scl. peccata, merguntur.

479. Melius est gaudere in opere, quam laetari in divitiis sive virtuoso labore.

509. Ibi Oryx in summo aestu sitibunda lachrymis quasi effusis et gemitibus iteratis ardorem solis detestari traditur.

510. Res, cuius caput est rubeum, oculi nigri et pedes albi, est magisterium.

516. Tum tua res agitur, paries cum proximus ardet.

518. Fenix arabie avis dicta quod colorem fenicium habeat et quod sit in toto orbe singularis et unica.

519. Quem tu hic quaeris, inquit, peregrine? Ad virginem non licitum est viro appropinquare.

529. Doceat nos haec avis vel exemplo sui resurrectionem credere. / Cur igitur Judaei iniqui, Domini nostri Jesu Christi triduanam resurrectionem non crediderunt, cum avis trium dierum spatio seipsam suscitet?

532. Sapiens, pennas cui dabis, oro, tuas.

533. Divitiae cedant et opes, huic cedat et aurum, cui mens non eadem, non homo, sed pecus est.

540. Pater ejus est Sol, mater ejus Luna; portavit illud ventus in ventre suo; nutrix ejus terra est.

Vis ejus integra est, si versa fuerit in terram.

Ascendit a terra in coelum, iterumque descendit in terram et recipit vim superiorum et inferiorum. Sic habebis gloriam totius mundi.

550. Draco mulierem et haec illum interimit, simulque sanguine perfunduntur.

552. Aenigmate hoc olim involutum est a Philosophis: fac fixum, inquiunt, volatile, et rursus volatile fixum, et totum habebis magisterium.

553. Nemo enim ascendit in caelum, quod quaeritis, nisi qui de caelo (quod non quaeritis) descendit, illuminet eum.

555. Disce ex te ipso, quicquid est et in caelo et in terra, cognoscere, ut sapiens fias in omnibus. Ignoras caelum et elementa prius unum fuisse, divino quoque ab invicem artificio separata, ut et te et omnia generare possent? Si hoc nosti, reliquum et te fugere non potest, aut ingenio cares omni. Rursus in omni generatione, separatio talis est necessaria, qualem de te supra dixi fiendam, antequam ad verae philosophiae studia velum applices. Ex aliis nunquam unum facies quod quaeris, nisi prius ex te ipso fiat unum.

556. Simul descensus in quatuor et ascensus ad monadem. / Decoquendus igitur, assandus, et fundendus: ascendit atque descendit, quae quidem operationes omnes unica sunt igne solo facta (operatio).

557. Lapis noster transit in terram, terra in aquam, aqua in aerem, aer in ignem, ibi est status, sed descendetur e converso.

559. Hac similitudine tibi satisfaciam: Filius Dei delapsus in virginem ibique caro figuratus homo nascitur, qui cum nobis propter nostram salutem veritatis viam demonstrasset, pro nobis passus et mortuus, post resurrectionem in coelos remeat. Ubi terra, hoc est humanitas, exaltata est, super omnes circulos mundi, et in coelo intellectuali sanctissimae Trinitatis est collocata.

570. Dehinc (animam) descendentem per quosdam circulos a principatibus malignis capi et secundum voluntatem victoris principis in corpora diversa contrudi eisque adscribi chirographum.

578. Itaque vocatus sum Hermes Trismegistus, habens tres partes Philosophiae totius mundi.

580. Vis eius integra est, . . . si versa fuerit in terram.

584. Nam serpentes ideo introrsum spectantia capita habent ut significent inter se legatos colloqui et convenire debere . . . Unde enim . . . legati pacis caduceatores dicuntur . . . Quibus caduceis duo mala adduntur unum Solis aliud Lunae . . . Mercurius haec tam fera animalia concordat, nos quoque concordare debere certum est. / Alii Mercurium quasi medicurrium a latinis dictum volunt, quod inter coelum et inferos semper incurrat . . . Caduceus illi adeo adsignatur, quod fide media hostes in amicitiam conducat. / Perfacile is discordes animos in concordiam trahet, duosque angues, hoc est odia mutua, doctrinae suae virgâ in unum

obligabit.

585. Primo regnat Saturnus in nigredine.

587. Ut per solutionem corpora solvuntur, ita per cognitionem resolvuntur philosophorum dubia.

595. Laton autem est immundum corpus.

597. Laton est ex Sole et Luna compositum corpus imperfectum citrinum; quod cum dealbaveris et . . . ad pristinam citrinitatem perduxeris, habes iterum Latonem . . ., tunc intrasti ostium, et habes artis principium.

600. Azoth et ignis latonem abluunt, et nigredinem ab eo auferunt.

601. Ignis et aqua latonem abluunt et eius nigredinem abstergunt.

602.        

603. Et si in fonte auri et argenti baptisati fuerimus et spiritus corporis nostri cum patre et filio in coelum ascenderit, et descenderit, animae nostrae reviviscent, et corpus meum animale candidum permanebit, scl. Lunae.

604. Quando autem baptizat tunc infundit animam.

608. 

609. 

610. Aqua velut morientem deducit in tumulum: spiritus sanctus velut resurgentem perducit ad caelum.

615. 

616. .

619. Terra alba foliata est corona victoriae, quae est cinis extractus a cinere, et corpus eorum secundum.

626. lapis albus, sol albus, Luna plena, terra alba fructuosa, mundificata et calcinata.

633.

640. Sale et facetiis Caesar . . . vicit omnes.

642. Sal est in se uno continens aquae et ignis elementum; et hoc ex duobus est unum.

661.  / Quanto magis libros

legebam, tanto magis mihi illuminabatur.

680. O aquam in acerba specie, quae tu elementa conservas! o naturam vicinitatis, quae tu naturam solvis! o naturam optumam, quae tu naturam ipsam superas! . . cum lumine coronata et nata es . . . et quinta essentia ex te orta est.

682. O aquam in amara acerbaque specie! Durum enim difficileque cui vis, ut fontem illum inveniat.

688. Quae cum ita sint, satis erit humano ingenio post lucem fidei, Divinae maiestatis veluti refractos radios in mundo, et rebus creatis agnoscere.

689. Esse in Chemia nobile aliquod corpus . . . in cuius initio sit miseria cum aceto, in fine vero gaudium cum laeticia, ita et mihi eventurum praesupposui, ut primo multa aspera, amara, tristia, taediosa gustarem, perferrem et experirer, tandem omnia laetiora et faciliora visurus essem.

691. 

692. Pater omnis telesmi est hic.

4. REX AND REGINA

5        occidit Osirim artuatimque laceravit et per omnes Nili fluminis

ripas miseri corporis palpitantia membra proiecit. / Nam Liberum ad Solem volunt referre commenta Graecorum etc        qui vidit puerum

solem? quis fefellit? quis occidit? quis laceravit? quis divisit? quis membris ejus epulatus est?        sed et errorem istum physica rursum

volunt ratione protegere: indivisam mentem et divisam, id est

 , hac se putant posse ratione venerari. 13. 

17.

21.

Hostes meos omnes superavi et vici,

Venenosumque draconem pedibus meis subegi, Sum Rex eximius et dives in terris

.............

Hinc mihi Hermes nomen sylvarum domini tribuit.

25. Inquiunt quidam, venerare humiditates, reges namque sunt magnanimi iniuriam non patientes, parce ergo eis et eorum capta benevolentiam, et suis oculis tibi dabunt, ut quodvis ab eis habebis.

27. Denique . . . videbis Lapidem Philosophicum Regem nostrum et Dominum Dominantium, prodire ex sepulchri vitrei sui thalamo ac throno in scenam mundanam hanc . . . clamantem: Ecce, Renovabo omnia.

28. Ihsuh Christi crucifixi, Salvatoris totius generis humani, id est Mundi minoris, in Naturae libro, et ceu Speculo, typus est, Lapis Philosophorum, Servator Mundi maioris.

37. Et scito quod aqua est quae occultum extrahit.

41. Cave ab hydropisi et diluvio Noe.
42. Equorum venter secretum est maximum: in hoc se abscondit noster hydropicus, ut sanitatem recuperet et ab omni aqua ad solem se exoneret.
43. Ita senex in balneo sedet, quem in vase optime sigillato et clauso contine, quoad Mercurius visibilis invisibilis fiat et occultetur.

45. Et ad Naaman dictum est: Vade et lavare septies in Jordano et mundaberis. Nam ipse est unum baptisma in absolutionem peccatorum.
46. O benedicta aquina forma pontica, quae elementa dissolvis.

50        igitur homo, caelum, et terra unum sunt, etiam aer et aqua. Si

homo res in maiori mundo transmutare novit        quanto magis id in

microcosmo, hoc est in se ipso noverit, quod extra se potest, modo cognoscat hominis in homine thesaurum existere maximum, et non extra ipsum.

53. Nemo creatorem poterit melius cognoscere quam ex opere noscitur artifex.

69. Masculus autem est, qui sine alis existit sub foemina, foemina vero habet alas. Propterea dixerunt: Proiicite foeminam super masculum et ascendet masculus super foeminam.

73. Haec petra nisi fuerit percussa aquas non dabit.
74. Sonora vox, suavis et grata philosophantium auribus. O fons divitiarum inexhaustibilis veritatem et iustitiam sitientibus! O desolatorum imperfectioni solatium! Quid ultra quaeritis mortales anxii? cur infinitis animos vestros curis exagitatis miseri? quae vestra vos excaecat dementia quaeso? cum in vobis, non ex vobis sit omne quod extra vos, non apud vos quaeritis.
75. Paradisum ipsum non terrenum videri posse, non in solo aliquo, sed in nostro principali, quod animatur et vivificatur animae virtutibus, et infusione spiritus Dei.

84. Antiquus dierum cum sua celsitate habitavit, ut infans, in utero.

85. Puerulus tuus senex est, o virgo, ipse est Antiquus dierum et omnia praecessit tempora.

95. assimilavit subtilitatem caloris ignis, gressui piae matris super ventrem filii sui.

102. Illa res . . . passim apparere colores facit. / hic est igitur lapis, quem omnibus nuncupavimus nominibus, qui opus recipit et bibit, et ex quo omnis color apparet. / Omnes Mundi colores manifestabuntur.

104. Dum autem Quinta Essentia in terra est, id in multiplicibus coloribus contrarii splendoris Solis cognoscis, quemadmodum cernis in Iride dum Sol per pluviam splendet.

105. 

112. Qui animam meam levaverit, eius colores videbit.

116. Oro ex toto corde Misericordiam tuam, ut mittas mihi de caelis sanctis tuis Ruach Hhochmah-El, Spiritum Sapientiae tuae, qui mihi familiaris semper adsistat, me dextre regat, sapienter moneat, doceat; mecum sit, Oret, Laboret; mihi det bene velle, nosse, esse et posse in Physicis, Physicomedicis.

122. Hic sigillata mater in infantis sui ventre surgit et depuratur, ut ob tantam

. . . puritatem putredo hinc exulet . . . Jam scias Virginem nostram terram ultimam subire cultivationem, ut in ea fructus Solis seminetur ac maturetur …

125. Quae tamen omnia bonum praenunciant indicium: quod videlicet tam bene vexatus homo tandem aliquando beatum exoptatumque exitum

consecuturus siet: quemadmodum etiam et ipsa SS. scriptura testis est, in qua (2 Tim. 3, Act. 4) legitur, quod videlicet omneis, qui beate in Christo Jesu vivere velint, persequutionem pati cogantur, quodque nos, per multas tribulationes et angustias, regnum coelorum ingredi necessum habeamus.

128. Foenix dicitur rubeus, et est Christus, de quo dicitur: Quis est iste, qui venit de Edom tinctis vestibus de Bosra. / Quare ergo rubrum est indumentum tuum et vestimenta tua sicut calcantium in torculari? / Edom quod dicitur rufus, est Esau appellatus, propter rufum pulmentum quo a fratre suo Jacob est cibatus. / Tertia die avis reparatur, quia Christus tertia die suscitatur a Patre.

129. 

131. Et certe solitudo, unicum conservandi spiritualis animi remedium amplissimam internae felicitatis occasionem praebet.

134. Si autem mortuus fuerit pavo, non marcescit eius caro nec foetidum dat odorem, sed manet tamquam condita aromatibus.

136. Hermes Princeps.—Post tot illata generi humano damna, Dei consilio: Artisque adminiculo, medicina salubris factus heic fluo.—Bibat ex me qui potest; lavet qui vult; turbet qui audet; bibite fratres et vivite.

138. totum elixir albedinis et rubedinis, et est aqua permanens, et aqua vitae et mortis, et lac virginis, herba ablutionis—et est fons animalis: de quo qui bibit, non moritur, et est susceptivum coloris et medicina eorum, et faciens acquirere colores, et est illud quod mortificat, siccat et humectat, calefacit et infrigidat et facit contraria. / Et ipse est Draco, qui maritat se ipsum et impraegnat seipsum et parit in die suo, et interficit ex veneno suo omnia animalia. / Accede Corpus ad fontem hunc, ut cum tua Mente bibas ad satietatem et in posterum non sitias amplius vanitates. O admiranda fontis efficacia, quae de duobus unum, et pacem inter inimicos facitl Potest amoris fons de spiritu et anima mentem facere, sed hic de mente et corpore virum unum efficit. Gratias agimus tibi Pater, quod filios tuos inexhausti virtutum fontis tui participes facere dignatus sis. Amen.

148. Alii appellaverunt hanc terram Leonem viridem fortem in praelio; Alii draconem devorantem, congelantem vel mortificantem caudam suam.

150. Sed nullum corpus immundum ingreditur, excepto uno, quod vulgariter vocatur a philosophis Leo viridis.

151. quia depopulata (terra) est a suis spiritibus.

155. Qui sui ipsius spiritus tam multa devorat.

156. In Leone nostro viridi vera materia . . . et vocatur Adrop, Azoth, aut Duenech viride.

173        lapidem, quem qui cognoscit, ponit ilium super oculos suos.

178. Dixit enim ei mater sua: O Marchos, oportet ne hunc ignem esse leviorem calore febris? Dixit ei Marchos, o mater, fiat in statu febris. Revertor et accendo ilium ignem.

189. Venus autem, cum sit orientalis, Solem praecedit.

193. Igneque debito videbis Emblema Operis magni, nempe nigrum, caudam pavonis, album, citrinum, rubeumque.

204. Et nota quod natura in principio suae originis intendit facere Solem vel Lunam, sed non potest propter Venerem, corruptum argentum vivum, commistum, vel propter terram foetidam, quare sicut puer in ventre matris suae ex corruptione matricis contrahit infirmitatem et corruptionem causa loci per accidens, quamvis sperma fuerit mundum, tamen puer sit leprosus et immundus causa matricis corruptae, et sic est de omnibus metallis imperfectis, quae corrumpuntur ex Venere, et terra foetida.

205. Leonem tuum in oriente quaeras, et aquilam ad meridiem in assumptum hoc opus nostrum        tuum iter ad meridiem dirigas oportet; sic in Cypro

votum consequeris, de quo latius minime loquendum.

210. Completur rosa alba tempore aestivali in Oriente.

213        quomodo hortus aperiendus, et rosae nobiles in agro suo

conspiciendae sient.

218. Antichristus in magna Babylonia de meretrice generis Dan nascetur. In matris utero diabolo replebitur et in Corozaim a maleficis nutrietur.

219.

Ut rosa per medias effloret roscida spinas, sic Veneris nunquam gaudia felle carent.

220. Et ita tandem, in unum contentum corruat imbibendo cum uno fermento, id est aqua una, quia aqua est fermentum aquae.

221. 

222. Sic et duas Graeciae litteras, summam et ultimam, sibi induit Dominus, initii et finis concurrentium in se figuras uti quemadmodum A ad Ω

usque volvitur (Apoc. I, 8) et rursus Ω ad A replicatur, ita ostenderent in se esse et initii decursum ad finem et finis recursum ad initium, ut omnis dispositio in eum desinens per quem coepta est.

224. Quicunque Chemicam artem addiscere vult, philosophiam, non Aristotelicam, sed earn quae veritatem docet, addiscat . . . nam eius doctrina tota consistit in amphibologia, quae mendaciorum optimum est pallium. Cum ipse Platonem, et reliquos reprehendisset, quaerendae famae gratia, nullum potuit commodius instrumentum reperisse, quam idem, quo in reprehendendo fuerat usus, amphibologico sermone scilicet, scripta sua contra sinistram oppugnantem, dextro subterfugio salvans, et e contra; quod Sophismatis genus in omnibus eius scriptis videre licet.

250. Quod cum cognovisset bonus pater tenebras ad terram suam supervenisse, produxit ex se virtutem, quae dicitur mater vitae, qua circumdedit primum hominem, quae sunt quinque elementa, id est ventus, lux, aqua, ignis et materia, quibus indutus, tamquam ad adparatum belli, descendit deorsum pugnare adversum tenebras.

263. Deinde fermentum tangit cum corpore imperfecto praeparato, ut dictum est, quousque fiant unum corpore, specie et aspectu et tunc dicitur Ortus; quia tunc natus est lapis noster, qui vocatus est rex a Philosophis, ut in Turba dicitur: Honorate regem nostrum ab igne venientem, diademate coronatum.

264        quare signo ilium notabili notavit Omnipotens, cuius nativitas per

Orientem in Horizonte Hemisphaerii sui philosophicum annunciatur. Viderunt Sapientes in Evo Magi et obstupuerunt statimque agnoverunt Regem serenissimum in mundo natum. Tu, cum eius Astra conspexeris, sequere ad usque cunabula, ibi videbis infantem pulcrum, sordes semovendo, regium puellum honora, gazam aperi, auri donum offeras, sic tandem post mortem tibi carnem sanguinemque dabit, summam in tribus Terrae Monarchiis medicinam.

265. Et videatis iksir vestitum regni vestimento.

266. Lapis Philosophorum est rex de coelo descendens, cuius montes sunt argentei rivuli aurei et terra lapides et gemmae pretiosae.

268. Quod infunditur anima corpori, et nascitur Rex coronatus. / Ego coronor, et diademate ornor, et regiis vestibus induor: quia corporibus laetitiam ingredi facio. / Cinerem ne vilipendas, quia Deus reddet ei liquefactionem et tunc ultimo Rex diademate rubeo divino nutu coronatur. Oportet te

ergo hoc magisterium tentare.

272. Proiice ergo supra quodvis corpus, et ex eo tantum quantum vis, quoniam in duplo multiplicabitur Tinctura eius. Et si una pars sui primo convertit cum suis corporibus centum partes; secundo convertit mille. Tertio decem millia, quarto centum millia; quinto mille millia in solificum et lunificum verum.

277. Et quamvis exanimis ipse philosophicorum Rex videatur, tamen vivit et ex profundo clamat: Qui me liberabit ex aquis et in siccum reducet, hunc ego divitiis beabo perpetius. Hic clamor etsi audiatur a multis, nulli tamen eius commiseratione ducti, quaerere regem subeunt. Quis enim, inquiunt, se demerget in aequor? Quis suo praesentaneo periculo alterius periculum levabit? Pauci sunt eius lamentationi creduli et putant vocem auditam esse Scillae et Charybdis resonos fragores et boatus. Hinc ociosi sedent domi nec regiam gazam, ut nec salutem curant.

280. Verum philosophorum antimonium in mari profundo, ut regius ille filius demersum delitescit.

289. Plumbum vexationes et molestias significat, per quas Deus nos visitat et ad resipiscentiam reducit. Quemadmodum enim plumbum omnes metallorum imperfectiones comburit et exterminat, unde Boethus Arabs illud aquam sulphuris vocat, ita quoque tribulatio in haec vita multas maculas, quas contraximus, a nobis abstergit: unde S. Ambrosius illam clavem coeli appellat.

291. Ex ossibus deinde et medullis eius nasci primo ceu vermiculum, inde fieri pullum.

301. Hic enim dum nascitur, rerum vicissitudo fit et innovatio.

306. Phoenix avis pavone pulchrior est; pavo enim aureas argenteasque habet alas; Phoenix vero hyacinthinas et smaragdinas, preciosorumque lapidum coloribus distinctas; coronam habet in capite.

316. Ascendit per se, nigrescit, descendit et albescit, crescit et decrescit . . . nascitur, moritur, resurgit, postea in aeternum vivit.

319. Eptacephalus draco, princeps tenebrarum, traxit de coelo cauda sua partem stellarum et nebula peccatorum eas obtexit, atque mortis tenebris obduxit.

335. 

351. Nam requiei aditus nimis est coarctatus, neque ad illam quisquam potest

ingredi, nisi per animae afflictionem.

352. Esse in Chemia nobile aliquod corpus, quod de domino ad dominum movetur.

361. quod vocat Plato intelligibile non sensibile. / Simplex est pars inopinabilis / est unius essentiae / Opus non perficitur nisi vertatur in simplex. / Conversio elementorum ad simplex. / Homo est dignior animalium et propinquior simplici et hoc propter intelligentiam.

362. Eiusque (veritatis) talem esse virtutem compererunt, ut miracula fecerit.

366        ad amussim studeat centrum cognoscere ac scire, eoque se totum

conferat, et centrum liberabitur ab omnibus imperfectionibus et morbis, ut ad prioris monarchiae statum restituatur.

367a. Accipite spiritum nigrum veterem, et eo corpora diruite et cruciate, quousque alterantur.

368. Irritate bellum inter aes et argentum vivum, quoniam peritum tendunt et corrumpuntur prius. / Inter ea pugnam irritate aerisque corpus diruite, donee pulvis fiat.
369. Diabolum ista in caelum erexisse decidens ac deiectus ab eo, nec non illa postmodum in mentem humanam infigere conatum fuisse, videlicet ambitionem, brutalitatem, calumniam, et divortium.
370. Homo a Deo in fornacem tribulationis collocatur et ad instar compositi Hermetici tamdiu omnis generis angustiis, diversimodisque calamitatibus et anxietatibus premitur, donec veteri Adamo et carni (Ephes. 4) siet mortuus et tamquam vere novus homo        iterum resurgat.

373. Per spiritualem istam suam mortem, anima sua omnino eximitur.

380. Postremum vero (opus) in altero regali Jovis solio desinet, a quo Rex noster potentissimus coronam pretiosissimis Rubinis contextam suscipiet, “sic in se sua per vestigia volvitur annus.”

383. Ciconia ibi sedebat, quasi se appellans circulum lunarem.

384. Rex ortus est, id est anima        lapidi mortuo infusa est.

395. Haec enim res a te extrahitur; cuius etiam minera tu existis; apud te namque illam inveniunt, et, ut verius confitear, a te accipiunt; quod cum probaveris, amor eius et dilectio in te augebitur. Et scias hoc verum et indubitabile permanere.

411. 

412. Confert enim Deus hanc divinam et puram scientiam suis fidelibus et servis illis scilicet quibus eam a primaeva rerum natura conferre disposuit

. . . Nam haec res nihil nisi donum Dei altissimi (esse) potest; qui prout vult, et etiam cui vult, ex suis servis et fidelibus illud committit, et monstrat . . . Prae ponit enim Dominus ex suis servis quos vult et eligit, ut hanc scientiam divinam homini celatam quaerant, et quaesitam secum retineant.

413. Dicit enim primus spagirorum Dux: Pulsate et aperietur vobis.

414. Nam evenire quandoque solet, ut post multos annos, labores et studia . . . nonnulli sint electi, multis pulsationibus, orationibus et investigatione sedula praemissis.

416. Sic etiam Iapidis compositum Rex et Regina dicuntur . . . Sic vir et mulier dicuntur Masculus et femina propter copulam videlicet et actionem et passionem. Rosinus: Artis auri arcanum et mare et femina consistit.

420. Quem divus Plato in ignea substantia habitare posuit: intelligens videlicet inenarrabilem Dei in seipso splendorem et circa seipsum amorem.

429. Qui per alienum ingenium et manum mercenariam operatur, aliena a veritate opera videbit. Et vice versa, qui alteri servilem praestat operam, uti servus in arte, nunquam ad Reginae mysteria admittetur.

5. ADAM AND EVE

1. Iste est Philosophorum Mercurius, ille celeberrimus Microcosmus et Adam.

3. Accipe Adam et quod assimilatur Adam, nominasti hic Adam et tacuisti nomen foeminae seu Evae, et non nominans eam, quia scis quod homines qui sunt tui similes in mundo, sciunt quod illud, quod tibi assimilatur, est Eva.

4. Qua propter ingenio et intellectu validissimis adseverarunt suum lapidem esse animalem, quem etiam vocaverunt suum Adamum, qui suam invisibilem Evam occultam in suo corpore gestaret ab eo momento, quo virtute summi conditoris omnium unita sunt. Ea de causa merito dici potest, Mercurium philosophorum nihil aliud esse, quam compositum eorum abstrusissimum Mercurium et non vulgarem illum

. . . est in Mercurio quicquid quaerunt sapientes . . . lapidis

philosophorum materia, nihil aliud est, quam . . . verus hermaphroditus Adam atque microcosmus. / Natura in primis requirit ab artifice, ut philosophicus Adam in Mercurialem substantiam adducatur. / . . . compositio huius sacratissimi Iapidis Adamici, fit ex sapientum Adamico Mercurio.

6. Ecce Adam heic duo sunt, fixatum et constans unum, fugax alterum.
7. Et Adamus erat Dominus, Rex et Imperator. 8.

Adam in balneo residebat,

In quo Venus sui similem reperiebat, Quod praeparaverat senex Draco.

18. Secundus Adam qui dicitur homo philosophicus.

19. Ex quatuor autem elementis pater noster Adam et filii eius . . . creati sunt.

26. (Deus) incepit autem colligere pulverem primi hominis e quatuor terrae angulis, videlicet rubrum, nigrum, album et viridem. Ruber pulvis factus est sanguis, niger fuit pro visceribus, albus pro ossibus et nervis, viridis factus est corpus.

33. Scivit enim per ternarium Adami non patere potuisse aditum unario protegente ternarium, binarium igitur Evae tentavit ingredi.

34        item non ignoravit Evam a viro suo divisam tanquam naturalem

binarium ab unario sui ternarii.

36. Nam Elementa circularia sunt, ut Hermes sentit, quodlibet a duobus aliis circumdatur, cum quibus convenit in una qualitatum ipsorum sibi appropriata, uti est terra inter ignem et aquam, participans de igne in siccitate, et de aqua in frigiditate. Et sic de caeteris.

37. Homo igitur, qui magni mundi est imago, et hinc microcosmus seu parvus mundus vocatus (sicut mundus ad archetypi sui similitudinem factus, et ex quatuor elementis compositus, magnus homo appellatur) etiam suum coelum et terram habet. Nam anima et intellectus sunt ejus coelum; corpus vero et sensualitas ejus terra. Adeo ut coelum et terram hominis cognoscere, idem sit quod plenam et integram totius mundi et rerum naturalium cognitionem habere.

47. In Adamo ergo protoplaste        continebantur omnes illae notiones

sive Species supradictae a Psyche factiva usque ad singularitatem emanativam.

50. Deinde caput, manus et pedes (leonis) colligo, et calefacio eis aquam extractam a cordibus statuarum ex lapidibus albis et citrinis, quae cadit de coelo tempore pluviae.

52. Laudanum autem barbae eius, i.e. mumia vel ysopos aut sudor.

53. Universae creaturae fundamenta . . . contineantur in . . . Radicali humido, Mundi semine, Mumia, Materia prima.

55. Et ideo per ablutionem aquae et desiccationem ignis semper extrahis oleum a corde statuarum. / Hoc oleum est tinctura, aurum et anima, ac philosophorum unguentum. / Illud oleum seu aqua divina . . . et vocatur Mediator.

61. Faciebant autem in iis (statuis) cum ostia, tum concavitates, quibus deorum quos colebant, simulacra imponebant. Apparebant itaque viles eiuscemodi statuae Mercuriales, sed intra se deorum ornamenta (

) continebant.

65. proiiciet semen suum supra marmorem in simulachrum.

67. Duo Adam efficiuntur: unus, pater noster, in mortem, quia mortalis factus est, peccans: secundus, pater noster, in resurrectionem, quoniam immortalis cum esset, per mortem devicit mortem atque peccatum. Primus Adam, hic, pater: posterior illic, etiam primi Adam est pater.

68. Restat nunc pars altera philosophicae praxeos, longe quidem difficilior, longe sublimior. In quo omnes ingenii neruos, omnia denique mentis curricula multorum philosophorum elanguisse legimus. Difficilius et enim hominem faceres reviviscere, quam mortem oppetere. Hic Dei petitur opus: Maximum quidem mysterium est creare animas, atque corpus inanime in statuam viventem confingere.

70        et ita dimittitur magnus ille ignis qui mundum consumat

universum; deinde iterum demittunt animam, quae obicitur inter medium novi saeculi, ut omnes animae peccatorum vinciantur in aeternum. Tunc autem haec fient, cum statua venerit.

78. Nunc de igne terreno ad coelestem ut ascendamus, qui est sol, mundi sensibilis oculus et cor, et Dei invisibilis imago. S. Dionysius manifestam et claram Dei statuam illum vocat.

79.

82. (filius) Clarissimum est, quod ad Tiphereth pertineat.
83. Matris quoque nomine appellatur Malchuth, quia mater est omnium sub ipsa existentium usque ad finem totius Abyssi.
84. Pulchritudo eius (solis) cum sponso ex camera sua nuptiali prodeunte comparata. Et ipse tanquam sponsus procedens de thalamo suo.
85. Procedit Christus quasi sponsus de thalamo suo; praesagio nuptiarum exiit ad campum saeculi; cucurrit sicut gigas exsultando per viam: pervenit usque ad crucis thorum, et ibi firmavit ascendendo conjugium; ubi cum sentiret anhelantem in suspiriis creaturam, commercio pietatis se pro conjuge dedit ad poenam. Tradidit quoque carbunculum, tanquam sui sanguinis gemmam, et copulavit sibi perpetuo jure matronam. ‘Aptavi vos,’ inquit Apostolus, ‘uni viro virginem castam exhibere Christo.’

88. Latere in antimonio plus virtutis medicinalis quam in ullo alio simplici ideoque etiam plus virtutis tingentis seu tincturae.

89. Et ideo dicitur quod lapis in quolibet homine. Et Adam portavit secum de paradiso, ex qua materia in quolibet homine lapis noster vel Elixir eliciatur.

100. Adam tradidit Enocho, qui introductus in mysterium embolysmi intercalavit annum.

101. Dixit Adam: hae sunt tabulae, quibus inscripturus est Sanctus benedictus digito suo.

103. Mundum per aquam esse renovandum vel potius castigandum, pauloque minus quam delendum.

119. Decem circulos a se invicem disiunctos complectebatur alter circulus, qui huius universitatis anima esse ferebatur, et cuius nomen erat Leviathan.
120. In eodem (diagrammate) reperi eum, qui vocatur Beemoth sub infimo circulo collocatum. Leviathanis nomen ab impii diagrammatis auctore bis erat scriptum, in superficia scl. et in centro circuli.
121. Animam tamen omnia permeantem impium hoc diagramma esse ponit.

124. Nunc autem angelum leoni similem aiunt habere cum astro Saturni necessitudinem.

125. Tibi, prime et septime . . . opus filio et patri perfectum. 130. 

131. Isti autem aliis alia addunt, Prophetarum dicta, circulos circulis inclusos

. . . virtutum ex quadam Prunico virgine manantem, viventem animam.

135. Quia Solis et Lunae colores haec duo metalla referunt.

136. Redemptor autem noster in carne veniens, pleiades iunxit, quia operationes septiformis spiritus simul in se et cunctas et manentes habuit.

153. Habet in se unusquisque Adam et Evam. Sicut enim in illa prima hominis transgressione suggessit serpens, delectata est Eva, consensit Adam: sic et quotidie fieri videmus, dum suggerit diabolus, delectatur caro, consentit spiritus.

158. ‘Plasmavit Deus hominem’, id est finxit de terrae limo. Is autem qui ad imaginem Dei factus est et ad similitudinem, interior homo noster est, invisibilis et incorporalis et incorruptus atque immortalis.

159. 

187. Esse in Chemia nobile aliquod corpus, quod de domino ad dominum movetur, in cuius initio sit miseria cum aceto, in fine vero gaudium cum laeticia.

193. Psyche, quae ipsis nephesch dicitur, sit spiritus vitalis, non quatenus plane corporeus sed insitus ille atque primitivus et seminalis, quem recentiores Archeum vocant, cum quo correspondet Philosophorum anima vegetativa seu plastica, et Platonicorum  seu concupiscible.

193a. Mater enim nil est nisi propensio Patris ad inferiora.

195. (Adam) a Cabbalistis Adam Kadmon dicitur, ad differentiam Adami Protoplastae . . . eo quod inter omnia a Deo emanata primum occupet locum, prout protoplastes in specie hominum: ita ut per ilium nihil commodius intelligi queat, quam anima Messiae, quem et Paulus ad I Corinth. 15, vers. 45–49 indigitat.

201        inquit Ezechiel 34, v. 31: Vos Adam estis. Id est, vos merito

vocamini Adami nomine. Sensus enim est: si literaliter textus intelligendus esset, objectio merito fieret, omnes etiam populos mundi sive gentiles eodem modo esse homines, quo Israelitae; statura nempe

erecta. Ubi porro quoque dicendum fuisset, vos homines estis. Verum enim vero (sensus hic est, ex animabus vestris consistebat microcosmus Adami) . . . § 11: Vos estis Adam. (Quasi diceret omnes Israelitarum animas nihil aliud fuisse quam Adamum nimirum protoplasten:) Et vos scintillae illius atque membra ejus extitistis.

203. Hinc quoque dixerunt Magistri nostri: Non veniet filius David, donec plene exiverint omnes animae, quae fuerunt in corpore (nimirum protoplastae).

204. Differentias autem numericas referri ad dispositionem bilanciformem ubi facies faciei obvertitur, et duo vel plura ejusdem perfectionis, et speciei, tantum distinguuntur, ut mas et foemina. Quae differentiae numericae etiam denotantur per id, quod dicitur anterius, et posterius.

218. 

219. Jam Adam Kadmon emanavit ab uno simplici, adeoque est unitas: sed et descendit, et delapsus est in ipsam naturam suam, adeoque est duo. Iterumque reducitur ad unum, quod in se habet, et ad summum; adeoque est tria et quatuor.

220. Et haec est causa, quod nomen essentiale habeat quatuor literas, tres diversas, et unam bis sumptam: quoniam He primum est uxor        Jod; et alterum, uxor        Vav. Primum emanavit a Jod, via directa, et alterum a Vav, via conversa et reflexa.

222. Jod, quia simplex, est unum et primum quid, et simile uni, quod numeris; et puncto, quod corporibus omnibus prius est. Punctum autem, secundum longitudinem motum producit lineam, nempe Vav. / Litera Jod quae punctum ipsum, facta est principium, medium et finis; imo ipsa etiam principium Decadum et finis unitatum atque ideo redit in unum. / Quoniam Sapientia Benedicti videbat, quod etiam in splendore hoc non possent manifestari mundi, cum Lux ibi adhuc nimis magna esset atque tenuis; hinc iterum innuit literae huic Jod, ut denuo descenderet et perrumperet sphaeram splendoris atque emitteret lucem suam, quae paulo crassior erat. / Lucem atque Influentiam insignem vibrabat in illam Sapientiam.

223. Vav denotat vitam, quae est emanatio et motus essentiae, quae in se ipsa manifestatur: estque medium uniendi, et connexionis, inter essentiam et intellectum.

225. He designat ens, quod est compositum ex essentia et existentia. / He

ultimum est imago et similitudo intellectus vel mentis.

228. Viriditate enim videtur praefigurari virginitas.
229. O benedicta viriditas, quae cunctas res generas!
230. Nonne spiritus Domini, qui est amor igneus, quum ferebatur super aquas, edidit eisdem igneum quendam vigorem, cum nihil sine calore generari possit? Inspiravit Deus rebus creatis . . . quandam germinationem, hoc est viriditatem, qua sese cunctae res multiplicarent

. . . Omnes res dicebant esse virides, cum esse viride crescere dicatur . . . Hanc ergo generandi virtutem rerumque conservationem Animam Mundi vocare libuit.

231. Unde Aristoteles ait in libro suo: Aurum nostrum, non aurum vulgi: quia ilia viriditas, quae est in eo corpore, est tota perfectio eius. Quia ilia viriditas, per nostrum magisterium cito vertitur in aurum verissimum.

238.

Lapis candens fit ex tribus; Nulli datur nisi quibus

Dei fit spiramine.

248. Vas . . . oportet esse rotundae figurae: Ut sit artifex huius mutator firmamenti et testae capitis. / Caput eius vivit in aeternum et ideo caput denominatur vita gloriosa et angeli serviunt ei. Et hanc imaginem posuit Deus in paradiso deliciarum, et in ea posuit suam imaginem et similitudinem. / . . . quousque caput nigrum aethiopis portans similitudinem fuerit bene lavatum.
249. Accipe cerebrum eius, aceto acerrimo terite . . . quousque obscuretur.
250. Cum igitur spiritus ille aquarum supracoelestium in cerebro sedem et locum acquisierit.

253        oportet nos vertere membrum (scl. cerebri s. cordis) in principio

operis, in id ex quo generatum est, et tunc convertimus ipsum per spiritum in id quod volumus. /        nam est triangulus compositione et est

propinquius omnibus membris corporis ad similitudinem simplicis.

254. Maxima virtus mineralis est in quolibet homine, et maxime in capite inter dentes, ut suo tempore inventum est aurum in granis minutis et oblongis        propter hoc dicitur quod lapis est in quolibet homine.

263. 

270. Similiter nominant hanc aquam Nubem vivificantem, mundum inferiorem et per haec omnia intelligunt Aquam foliatam, quae est aurum

Philosophorum, quod vocavit dominus Hermes Ovum, habens multa nomina. Mundus inferior est corpus et cinis combustus, ad quem reducunt Animam honoratam. Et cinis combustus, et anima, sunt aurum sapientum, quod seminant in terra sua alba, et terra margaritarum stellata, foliata, benedicta, sitiente, quam nominavit terram foliorum, et terram argenti, et terram auri. / In quo dixit Hermes: Seminate aurum in terram albam foliatam. Terra alba foliata est Corona victoriae, qua est cinis extractus a cinere …

271. Ergo Luna mater et ager in quo solare seminarique debet semen . . . / (ait sol) Ego enim sum sicut semen seminatum in terram bonam . . . / Jam scias Virginem nostram terram, ultimam subire cultivationem, ut in ea fructus Solis seminetur ac maturetur. / Recipiam a te animam adulando. / Aqua supra terram incidente, creatus est Adam, qui et mundus est minor.

/ Terra dicitur mater elementorum, quia portat filium in ventre suo. / Quamvis in primo suo partu per Solem et Lunam generatus, et de terra in accretione sua postulatus siet. / Pater suscipit filium, hoc est, terra retinet spiritum. / Quia totius mundi ima pars terra est, aetheris autem ima pars luna est: Lunam quoque terram, sed aetheream, vocaverunt.

275. Accipe itaque tu, charissime, verborum meorum legitimum sensum, et intellige, quia philosophi similes sunt hortulanis et agricolis, qui primum quidem semina deligunt, et delecta non in vulgarem terram, sed in excultos agros, aut hortorum iugera seminant . . . / Habito autem Sole et Luna philosophorum tanquam semine bono, terra ipsa ab omnibus suis immunditiis et herbis inutilibus expurganda est et diligenti cultura elaboranda, in eamque sic elaboratam Solis et Lunae praedicta semina mittenda sunt …

276. Ubi terra, hoc est humanitas, exaltata est super omnes circulos Mundi, et in caelo intellectuali sanctissimae Trinitatis est collocata. / Donum namque Dei est, habens mysterium individuae unionis sanctae Trinitatis. O scientiam praeclarissimam, quae est theatrum universae naturae, eiusque anatomia, astrologia terrestris, argumentum omnipotentiae Dei, testimonium resurrectionis mortuorum, exemplum remissionis peccatorum, infallibile futuri iudicii experimentum et speculum aeternae beatitudinis!

278. Quamobrem in centro terrae ignis est copiosissimus aestuantissimusque (ex radiis solaribus ibidem collectus), qui barathrum sive orcus nuncupatur, neque alius est ignis sublunaris: faeces enim sive terrestres

reliquiae principiorum praedictorum, videlicet caloris solaris et aquae, sunt ignis et terra: damnatis destinata.

279. Ipsum enim est, quod ignem superat, et ab igne non superatur: sed in illo amicabiliter requiescit, eo gaudens.

285. Ad dextram vocatur Sol justitiae Mal. 4, 2, sed ad sinistram (Sol) a calore Ignis Gebhurae.

288. In naturalibus Jesod sub se continet argentum vivum; quia hoc est fundamentum totius artis transmutatoriae.

290. (Jessod) in personis denotat membrum genitale utriusque sexus. / Quapropter pervolare semper Adonai ad Mensuram El-chai continua aestuat cupidine. / Ipse autem hic gradus firmus est inter Ilium et Illam, ut natura seminis subtilissima e supernis demissa non dimoveatur. / . . . angelus redemtor, fons aquarum viventium, arbor scientiae boni et mali, Leviathan, Salomon, Messias filius Joseph.

291. Iste enim est effusorium aquarum supernarum: Et duae olivae super illud, sunt Nezach et Hod, duo testiculi masculini.

295. Foedus Pacis autem, seu perfectionis propterea dicitur, quia iste modus pacis et perfectionis autor est inter Tiphereth et Malchuth, ita ut de eo dicitur, I Par. 29, 11, quia modus ille, qui vocatur Col, est in coelo et in terra, ubi Targum hac utitur paraphrasi, quod uniatur cum coelo et cum terra.

298. Propinquus . . . et melior quam frater e longinquo, qui est Tiphereth.

299        quod robustus Jisrael sit nomen medium inter Nezach et Hod.

301. In Sohar, in historia illius Puelli, dicitur, quod Justus (Jessod) vocetur Amicus fidelis ad locum Cant. 7. 10. Vadens ad dilectum meum. Et hinc Jesod dicitur Amicus, quia unit duos dilectos et amicos: quia per ipsum fit unio Tiphereth et Malchuth.

308. Hoc est illud quod non sine mysterio vocatur Stella        / Aquae El boni,

seu Argenti vivi . . . Hoc argentum vivum        vocatur Aqua Sphaerica.

309. Haec (aqua) dicitur filia Matredi, i.e        Viri aurificis laborantis cum

assidua defatigatione; nam haec aqua non fluit e terra, nec effoditur in mineris, sed magno labore et multa assiduitate elicitur et perficitur. Huius uxor appellatur Aqua auri sive talis Aqua, quae aurum emittit. Cum hac si desponsatur artifex, filiam generabit, quae erit Aqua balnei regii.

314. In Sohar haec litera dicitur scaturigo vitae.
315. Pullus avis cujusque. Deut. 22, 6. Psalm. 84, 4. In Raja Mehimna

R. Schimeon ben Jochai tradit per hoc nomen intelligi Gradum Tiphereth, quatenus constat e sex membris suis, quae sunt sex alae, quibus sursum volat et deorsum. Sed in Tikkunim sub initium Libri R. Bar, Bar Channa; haec appellatio dicitur referenda ad Justum sub mysterio Lucis reflexae ab imo ad summum. Verba sunt haec: Aephrochim sunt flores, qui fructum nondum praebent perfectum. Suntque Sephiroth sub notione arboris, quae ab imo sursum conversa est, et quidem circa Jesod.

316. Penna, ala: it. membrum, et quidem genitale . . . hoc nomen exponit de Jesod, cui cognomen Justi tribuitur.

318. Phoenix . . . ex cuius pennis circa collum aureolis . . . Medicina ad omnes affectiones humanae naturae contrarias in temperiem sanitatis optatam reducendas utilissima . . . inventa et usurpata est.

322. Sic vocatur Malchuth . . . estque locus destinatus ad coctionem et elixationem influentiae, a marito ad ipsam demissae ad nutritionem catervarum. Sicut notum est: foeminam calore suo excoquere semen ad generandum.

324. De Dei filio intelligit, qui in castigandis mundi sceleribus formidandum Leonem sat diu imitatus paulo post, morte propinquante, dum SS. Eucharistiae Sacramentum instituit, in melleos favos longe suavissimos se ipsum convertit.

325. Saepius Adonai nomen Sephirae ultimae, et ipsa Malchuth, Regnum, ita dicitur; quoniam ipsum totius mundanae fabricae fundamentum extat.

326        lapis capitalis, a quo omnes catervae superiores et inferiores in opere

creationis promuntur in esse.

327. Sapphireus, quia varium a supernis gradibus colorem trahit, et in creatis mox hoc, mox contrario modo operatur: nam bonum nonnunquam, quandoque malum, nunc vitam, nunc interitum, nunc languorem, nunc medelam, nunc egestatem, nunc divitias ministrat.

332. In hoc nomine perpetuo mysterium literae        (Jod) involvitur, et quidem ut plurimum in Malchuth, quatenus in ista existit litera Jod. Informis enim massa et figura        figuram habet lapidis; et Malchuth est fundamentum et lapis cui totum aedificium superius superstruitur. De ea dicitur Zach. 3, 9: Lapis unus septem oculorum.

337. Tunc exsurgit Hermaphroditi flos Saphyricus, admirandum Maioris Mundi Mysterium. Cuius pars, si in mille liquati Ophirizi partes infundatur, id omne in sui naturam convertit.

344        quoniam lapis sapphirus aereum habet colorem. Virtutes ergo

coelestium lapide sapphiro designantur, quia hi spiritus        superioris loci

in coelestibus dignitatem tenent.

345. Crystallum        ex aqua congelascit, et robustum fit. Scimus vero quanta

sit aquae mobilitas. Corpus autem redemptoris nostri, quia usque ad mortem passionibus subiacuit, aquae simile iuxta aliquid fuit: quia nascendo, crescendo, lassescendo, esuriendo, sitiendo, moriendo usque ad passionem suam per momenta temporum mobiliter decucurrit        Sed

quia per resurrectionis suae gloriam ex ipsa sua corruptione in incorruptionis virtutem convaluit, quasi crystalli more ex aqua duruit, ut in illo et haec eadem natura esset, et in ipsa quae jam fuerat corruptionis mutabilitas non esset. Aqua ergo in crystallum versa est, quando corruptionis eius infirmitas per resurrectionem suam ad incorruptionis est firmitatem mutata. Sed notandum quod hoc crystallum horribile, id est, pavendum, dicitur        omnibus vera scientibus constat quia redemptor

humani generis cum iudex apparuerit, et speciosus iustis, et terribilis erit iniustis.

347. Certum quidem est, quod macroprosopus, Pater et Mater, sint Corona, Sapientia et Intelligentia mundi Emanativi post restitutionem. /        e

tribus punctis primis mundi inanitionis constituta sint tria capita superna, quae continentur in Sene Sanctissimo. Omnia autem tria numerantur pro uno in mundo Emanativo, qui est macroprosopus.

348. Forma secunda vocatur Ros crystallinus; et haec formatur a Severitate Basiliae Adami primi, quae intrabat intra Sapientiam Macroprosopi: hinc in crystallo color quidam emphaticus rubor apparet. Et haec est Sapientia illa, de qua dixerunt, quod in ilia radicentur Iudicia.
349. Lapis in sacro eloquio Dominum et redemptorem nostrum significat.

6. THE CONJUNCTION

8. Mineralia tamen atque vegetabilia Hermaphroditae sunt naturae, eo quod utrumque sexum habeant. Nihilominus fit ex seipsis coniunctio formae et materiae, quemadmodum fit de animalibus.
9. Unde duo sulphura et duo argent[a] viv[a] dicuntur et sunt talia, quod unum et unum dixerunt, et sibi congaudent, et unum alterum continet.

19. Si enim homo ad summum bonum pervenire cupit, tunc        primo

Deum, dein seipsum        agnoscere ilium oportet.

20. Pietas autem est gratia divinitus prolapsa, quae docet unumquemque seipsum, vere ut est, cognoscere.

23        cum in vitro tuo corispexeris naturas insimul misceri …

25. Effodiatur ergo sepulcrum et sepeliatur mulier cum viro mortuo …

27. Non fieri transitum nisi per medium.

28. Mercurius est medium coniungendi.

34. Aqua aeris inter caelum et terram existens, est vita uniuscuiusque rei. Ipsa enim aqua solvit corpus in spiritum, et de mortuo facit vivum, et facit matrimonium inter virum et mulierem.

35. Siccum humectare, et durum lenificare, et corpora coniungere et attenuare.

39. Non absimili modo quo Deus primo creavit unum mundum sola meditatione, pariformiter creavit unum mundum, ex quo quidem res omnes natae fuerunt adaptatione. / Item ut unus Deus tantum est non plures unum etiam per unum ex nihilo mundum in mente sua prius creare voluit ut subinde in effectum producere quo continerentur omnia quae crearet in ipso: Deus ut esset in omnibus unus.

40. Sub isto binario spirituali et corporeo, tertium quid latuit, quod vinculum est sacrati matrimonii. Hoc ipsum est medium usque hue in omnibus perdurans, ac suorum amborum extremorum particeps, sine quibus ipsum minime, nec ipsa sine hoc suo medio esse possunt, quod sunt, ex tribus unum.

48. Est enim in humano corpore quaedam substantia conformis aethereae, quae reliquas elementares partes in eo praeservat, et continuare facit.
49. Spagiricam autem nostram medicinam esse corpoream non negamus, sed spiritalem dicimus esse factam, quam spiritus spagiricus induit.
50. Concludimus meditativam philosophiam in superatione corporis unione mentali facta, consistere. Sed prior haec unio nondum sophum efficit, nec nisi mentalem sophiae discipulum: unio vero mentis cum corpore secunda sophum exhibet, completam illam et beatam unionem tertiam cum unitate prima sperantem et expectantem. Faxit omnipotens Deus ut tales efficiamur omnes et ipse sit in omnibus unus.

60. Mens igitur bene dicitur esse composita, quoties animus cum anima tali vinculo iunctus est, ut corporis appetitus et cordis affectus fraenare valeat.

62. Qui diligit animam suam, perdet eam, et qui odit animam suam, in aeternum custodit eam.

67. Impossibile est enim vitae malae hominem possidere thesaurum sapientiae filiis reconditum, et male sanum ad eum acquirendum vel inquirendum, multo minus ad inveniendum aptum esse.
68. Admonendos esse discipulos putavi auxilii divini implorationis, deinceps accuratissimae diligentiae in disponendo se ad eiusmodi gratiam recipiendam.
69. Ego sum . . . vera medicina, corrigens ac transmutans, id quod non est amplius, in id quod fuit ante corruptionem, et in multo melius, item id quod non est, in id quod esse debet.

72. At veritas est summa virtus et inexpugnabile castrum.

73. Libera tamen ad suam unitatem redit. Hoc est unum ex arcanis naturae, per quod ad altiora pertigerunt spagiri.

82. Quidam Philosophi nominaverunt aurum Chelidoniam, Karnech, Geldum.

85. Lili Alchemiae et Medicinae . . . nobilissimum hoc omne quod ex altissimi conditoris manifestatione meditationibus hominum obtingere potest.

87. Miranda praestat in spagyrica arte, nam eo mediante lux diei in primam materiam reducitur.

102. . / Item sapientiam tuam

semina in cordibus nostris, et ab eis phlegma, choleram corruptam, et sanguinem bulientem expelle, ac per vias beatorum perducas. / Ne cinerem vilipendas . . . in eo enim est Diadema quod permanentium cinis est.

103. Item scitote, quod spiritus est in domo marmore circundata, aperite igitur foramina, ut spiritus mortuus exeat.

105. Ad corporis igitur bonam dispositionem artificiatam, utimur spagirico medicamento.

117        quaedam inest lumini (lunae), quod de ea defluit, quae humectet

corpora et velut occulto rore madefaciat.

118. Rectam fidem super unguentem olere fecisti. / Odore scientiae totum perfudit orbem.

133. . . . concordantia et        discordantia, quam symbolizationem

intelligimus.

170. O coelum nostrum! o aqua nostra et Mercurius noster!        o caput

mortuum seu faeces maris nostri        Et haec sunt aviculae Hermetis

epitheta, quae nunquam quiescit.

171. Et scitote quod caput artis est corvus, qui in nigredine noctis et diei claritate sine alis volat.

173. Vocatur quoque rotunda aliqua nubes, mors itidem, nigredo, utpote tenebrae et umbra. / Istud opus fit ita subito sicut veniunt nubes de caelo.

176. Corvus se pullis senio confectum praebet in pabulum: at Phoenix noster Christus Dominus        se nobis in coelestem alimoniam praebuit.

180. Niger qui caput est artis, albus qui medium et rubeus qui finem rerum omnium imponit.

182. Cum videris materiam tuam denigrai, gaude: quia principium est operis.

/ Caput corvi artis est origo.

183. Antimonium, pix, carbo, corvus, caput corvi, plumbum, aes ustum, ebur ustum dicitur.

185. Et sic habes duo elementa, primo aquam per se, dehinc terram ex aqua.

191. corvus in formam peccatoris constitutus.

193. Vas autem necessarium in hoc opere oportet esse rotundae figurae: ut sit artifex huius mutator firmamenti et testae capitis.
194. Locus superior est cerebrum, et est sedes intelligentiae.
195. Et animal forma formarum et genus generum est homo.
196. Vas autem factum est rotundum ad imitationem superius et inferius. Est namque aptius rerum ad id cuius generatio quaeritur in eo, res enim ligatur per suum simile.
197. Mundus superior habet semper effectum in homine, et perfecta inspiratio eius scilicet hominis in morte sua, usque ad firmamentum, nec deest perventio, donec revertatur, quod egressum est de mundo superiori, ad locum suum.
198. Videtisne relucens illud et inexpugnabile castrum? / Veritas est . . .

inexpugnabile castrum. Hac in arce verus . . . continetur ille thesaurus, qui . . . asportatur hinc post mortem.

199. Creatura in divina mente concepta est simplex, invariabilis et aeterna, in se ipsa autem multiplex, variabilis, transitoria.

205. Moriente leone nascitur corvus. / O triste spectaculum et mortis aeternae imago: at artifici dulce nuntium! . . . Nam spiritum intus clausum vivificum scias, qui statuto tempore ab Omnipotente vitam hisce cadaveribus reddet.

217. Notum est, quod anima antequam suo corpori misceretur, mortua fuerat, et eius corpus similiter.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The items of the bibliography are arranged alphabetically under two headings: A. Volumes containing collections of alchemical tracts by various authors; B. General bibliography, including cross-references to the material in section A. Short titles of the alchemical volumes are printed in capital letters.

1. VOLUMES CONTAINING COLLECTIONS OF ALCHEMICAL TRACTS BY VARIOUS AUTHORS

ARS CHEMICA, quod sit licita recte exercentibus, probationes doctissimorum iurisconsultorum.… Strasbourg, 1566.

Contents quoted in this volume:

1. Septem tractatus seu capitula Hermetis Trismegisti aurei [pp. 7–31; usually referred to as “Tractatus aureus”]
2. Studium Consilii coniugii de massa solis et lunae [pp. 48–263; usually referred to as “Consilium coniugii”]

ARTIS AURIFERAE quam chemiam vocant.… Basel, 1593. 2 vols.*

Contents quoted in this volume:

VOLUME I

1. Turba philosophorum [two versions: pp. 1–64, 65–139]
2. Allegoriae super librum Turbae [pp. 139–45]
3. Aenigmata ex visione Arislei et allegoriis sapientum [pp. 146–54; usually referred to as “Visio Arislei”]
4. In Turbam philosophorum exercitationes [pp. 154–82]
5. Aurora consurgens, quae dicitur Aurea hora [pp. 185–246]
6. Rosinus ad Euthiciam [pp. 246–77]
7. Rosinus ad Sarratantam episcopum [pp. 277–319]
8. Maria Prophetissa: Practica… in artem alchemicam [pp. 319–24]
9. Kalid: Liber secretorum [pp. 325–51]
10. Kalid: Liber trium verborum [pp. 352–61]
11. Tractatulus Aristotelis de practica lapidis philosophici [pp. 361–73]
12. Authoris        ignoti,        philosophici        lapidis        secreta        metaphorice describentis [pp. 389–92]
13. Merlinus: Allegoria de arcano lapidis [pp. 392–96]
14. Rachaidibi [et aliorum] philosophorum Regis Persarum de materia lapidis fragmenta [pp. 397–404]
15. Tractatulus Avicennae [pp. 405–36]
16. Clangor buccinae [pp. 448–544]
17. Liber de arte chymica [pp. 575–631]

VOLUME II

18. Morienus Romanus: Sermo de transmutatione metallica [pp. 7–54]
19. Scala philosophorum [pp. 107–70]
20. Ludus puerorum [pp. 171–204]
21. Rosarium philosophorum [pp. 204–384; contains a second version of the “Visio Arislei” at pp. 284ff.]
22. Arnaldus de Villanova: Thesaurus thesaurorum et Rosarius [pp. 385–455]

MANGETUS, JOANNES JACOBUS (ed.). BIBLIOTHECA CHEMICA CURIOSA,

seu Rerum ad alchemiam pertinentium thesaurus instructissimus.… Geneva, 1702. 2 vols.

Contents quoted in this volume:

VOLUME I

1. Hoghelande: De alchimiae difficultatibus [pp. 336–68]
2. Hermes Trismegistus: Tractatus aureus de lapidis physici secreto [pp. 400–445]
3. Artefius: Clavis majoris sapientiae [pp. 503–508]
4. [Altus:] Liber mutus alchemiae mysteria filiis artis nudis figuris evidentissime aperiens [pp. 938–53]

VOLUME II

5. Bonus: Margarita pretiosa novella correctissima [pp. 1–80]
6. Senior: De chemia [pp. 198–235]
7. Consilium coniugii [pp. 235–65]
8. [d’Espagnet:] Arcanum hermeticae philosophiae opus [pp. 649–61]
9. Barnaud: In aenygmaticum quoddam Epitaphium Bononiae… Commentariolus [pp. 713–16]

In hoc volumine DE ALCHEMIA continentur haec:… Nuremberg, 1541.

Contents quoted in this volume:

1. Geber: Summa perfectionis [pp. 20–205]
2. Tabula smaragdina Hermetis Trismegisti [p. 363]

MUSAEUM HERMETICUM reformatum et amplificatum…, continens tractatus chimicos XXI praestantissimos… Frankfurt a. M., 1678. For translation, see: (B) WAITE, The Hermetic Museum.

Contents quoted in this volume:

1. [Hermes Trismegistus:] Tractatus aureus de lapide philosophorum [pp. 1–52]
2. Madathanus: Aureum saeculum redivivum [pp. 53–72]
3. [Siebmacher:] Hydrolithus sophicus, seu Aquarium sapientum [pp.

73–144]

4. Mehung: Demonstratio naturae [pp. 145–71]
5. Flamel: Tractatus brevis seu Summarium philosophicum [pp. 172– 79]
6. [Barcius (F. von Sternberg)]: Gloria mundi, alias Paradisi tabula [pp. 203–304]
7. Liber Alze [pp. 325–35]
8. Lambspringk: De lapide philosophico figurae et emblemata [pp. 337–72]
9. Valentinus: De prima materia [pp. 424–25]
10. Sendivogius: Novum lumen chemicum e naturae fonte et manuali experientia depromptum [pp. 545–600; Parabola, seu Aenigma philosophicum Coronidis…, pp. 585–90]
11. [Sendivogius:] Novi luminis chemici Tractatus alter de sulphure [pp. 601–46]
12. Philalethes: Introitus apertus ad occlusum regis palatium [pp. 601– 46]
13. Philalethes: Fons chymicae veritatis [pp. 799–814]
14. Helvetius: Vitulus aureus [pp. 815–63]

THEATRUM CHEMICUM, praecipuos selectorum auctorum tractatus… continens. Vols. I—III, Ursel, 1602. Vols. IV-VI, Strasbourg, 1613, 1622, 1661.

Contents quoted in this volume:

VOLUME I

1. Hoghelande: Liber de alchemiae difficultatibus [pp. 121–215]

ii Dorn: Speculativae philosophiae, gradus septem vel decem continens [pp. 255–310]

3. Dorn: Physica genesis [pp. 367–404]
4. Dorn: Physica Trismegisti [pp. 405–37]
5. Dorn: Physica Trithemii [pp. 437–50]
6. Dorn: Philosophia meditativa [pp. 450–72]
7. Dorn: Philosophia chemica ad meditativam comparata [pp. 472– 517]
8. Dorn: De tenebris contra naturam et vita brevi [pp. 518–35]
9. Dorn: Duellum animi cum corpore [pp. 535–50]
10. Dorn: Congeries Paracelsicae chemicae de transmutatione metallorum [pp. 557–646]
11. Penotus: De vera praeparatione et usu medicamentorum chemicorum [pp. 672–772]
12. Bernard of Treviso: De chemico miraculo, quod lapidem philosophiae appellant (Liber de alchemia) [pp. 773–803]
13. Zacharius,        Dionysius:        Opusculum        philosophiae        naturalis metallorum, cum annotationibus Nicolai Flameli [pp. 804–901]

VOLUME II

14. Aegidius de Vadis: Dialogus inter naturam et filium philosophiae [pp. 95–123]
15. Penotus: Philosophi potius occultare artem conati sunt, quam patefacere [p. 123: a table]
16. Ripley: Duodecim portarum axiomata philosophica [pp. 123–39]
17. Hollandus: Fragmentum de opere philosophorum [pp. 142–46]
18. Penotus:        Quinquagintaseptem        canones        de        opere        physico (“Reguiae et canones”) [pp. 150–54]
19. Dee: Monas hieroglyphica [pp. 203–43]
20. Ventura: De ratione conficiendi lapidis [pp. 244–356]
21. Joannes Pico Mirandola: De auro [pp. 357–432]
22. Albertus Magnus: Super arborem Aristotelis [pp. 524–27]

VOLUME III

23. De magni lapidis compositione et operatione [pp. 1–56]
24. Rupescissa: Liber de confectione veri lapidis philosophorum [pp.

191–200]

25. Hollandus: Opera mineralia, seu de lapide philosophico omnia [pp. 320–564]
26. Greverus: Secretum [pp. 783–810]
27. Alani philosophi dicta de lapide philosophico [pp. 811–20]
28. Barnaud: Commentarium in quoddam Epitaphium Bononiae… [pp. 836–48]
29. Delphinas: Liber secreti maximi [pp. 871–78]

VOLUME IV

30. Lully: Theorica et practica [pp. 1–191]
31. Artefius: Clavis majoris sapientiae [pp. 221–40]
32. Aphorismi Basiliani sive Canones Hermetici [pp. 368–71]
33. Beatus: Aurelia occulta philosophorum [pp. 525–81]
34. Arnold of Villanova: Speculum alchimiae [pp. 583–613]
35. Hermes Trismegistus: Tractatus aureus… cum scholiis Dominici Gnosii [pp. 672–797]
36. Lagneus: Harmonia chemica [pp. 813–903]
37. Albertus: Liber octo capitulorum de lapide philosophorum [pp. 948–71]
38. Valentinus: Opus praeclarum ad utrumque [pp. 1061–75]
39. Petrus de Silento: Opus [pp. 1113–27]

VOLUME V

xl Allegoriae sapientum… supra librum Turbae [pp. 64–100] xli Tractatus Micreris suo discipulo Mirnefindo [pp. 101–13] xlii Liber Platonis quartorum… [pp. 114–208]

xliii Senior: De chemia [pp. 219–66]

xliv Mennens: Aureum vellus [pp. 267–470] xlv Consilium coniugii [pp. 479–566]

xlvi Bonus: Pretiosa margarita novella correctissima [pp. 589–794]

xlvii Tractatus Aristotelis alchymistae ad Alexandrum Magnum de lapide philosophico [pp. 880–92]

xlviii Epistola ad… Hermannum archiepiscopum Coloniensem de

lapide philosophico [pp. 893–900]

VOLUME VI

xlix Vigenerus (Blaise de Vigenère): De igne et sale [pp. 1–139]

l Christopher of Paris: Elucidarius artis transmutatoriae metallorum [pp. 195–293]

li Grasseus: Arca arcani [pp. 294–381]

lii Orthelius: Epilogus et recapitulatio… in Novum lumen chymicum Sendivogii [pp. 430–58]

liii Orthelius: Discursus [pp. 470–74]

THEATRUM CHEMICUM BRITANNICUM,… collected with annotations by Elias Ashmole. London, 1652.

Contents quoted in this volume:

i Norton: The Ordinall of Alchimy [pp. 13–106]

2. GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

ABEGG, EMIL. Der Messiasglaube in Indien und Iran. Berlin and Leipzig, 1928.

ABRAHAM ELEAZAR. See ELEAZAR.

ABT, ADAM. Die Apologie des Apuleius von Madaura und die antike Zauberei. (Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und Vorarbeiten, vol. 4, part 2, pages 75–345.) Giessen, 1908.

Abu ‘l-qāsim Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-‘Irāqī. Kitâb al-’ilm

almuktasab (Book of Knowledge acquired concerning the cultivation of gold). Edited and translated by E. J. Holmyard. Paris, 1923.

Acta Archelai. See Hegemonius.

Acta Joannis (Acts of John). See JAMES.

Acta Thomae (Acts of Thomas). See JAMES.

AEGIDIUS DE VADIS. “Dialogus inter naturam et filium philosophiae.” See

(A) Theatrum chemicum, xiv.

AELIAN (Claudius Aelianus). De natura animalium. Edited by Rudolph Hercher. Leipzig, 1864–66. 2 vols.

“Aenigmata ex visione Arislei philosophi, et allegoriis sapientum” (“Aenigmata philosophorum”). See (A) Artis auriferae, iii and xxi. AGNOSTUS, IRENAEUS, pseud. (Friedrich Grick). Prodromus Fr. R. C. [Rhodostauroticus]. Segoduni (Rodez), 1620.

AGRIPPA VON NETTESHEIM, CORNELIUS. De incertitudine et vanitate scientiarum. Cologne, 1585. English translation: The Vanity of Arts and Sciences. London, 1676.

AIGREMONT, DR., pseud. (Siegmar Baron von Schultze-Galléra). Fuss- und Schuhsymbolik und -Erotik. Leipzig, 1909.

[ALANUS.] “Dicta Alani.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxvii.

ALBERTUS MAGNUS (Albert the Great, Saint). “Liber octo capitulorum de lapide philosophorum.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxxvii.

        . “Scriptum super arborem Aristotelis.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxii.

ALDROVANDUS, ULYSSES. Dendrologiae libri duo. Bologna [1667.] 2 vols.

’ALĪ, M. TURĀB (ed.). “Three Arabic Treatises on Alchemy by Muhammad bin Umail,” Memoirs of the Asiatic Society of Bengal (Calcutta), XII (1933), 1–116.

“Allegoria Merlini.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xiii.

“Allegoriae sapientum supra librum Turbae XXIX distinctiones.” See

(A) Theatrum chemicum, xl.

“Allegoriae super librum Turbae.” See (A) Artis auriferae, ii. [ALTUS, pseud.] Mutus Liber. La Rochelle, 1677. See also (A) MANGETUS, Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, iv.

AMBROSE, SAINT. Commentarius in Cantica Canticorum e scriptis S. Ambrosii a Guillelmo, quondam Abbate S. Theodorici, collectus. See Migne, P.L., vol. 15, cols. 1851–1962.

        . De excessu fratris. See: S. Ambrosii Opera, Pars VII. Edited by Otto Faller. (Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, 73.) Vienna, 1955. (pp. 209–35.)

        . Epistolae. See Migne, P.L., vol. 16, cols. 875–1286.

        . Explanatio Psalmorum XII. See: S. Ambrosii Opera, Pars VI. Edited by M. Petschenig. (Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, 64.) Vienna and Leipzig, 1919.

        . Hexaemeron. See Migne, P.L., vol. 14, cols. 123–274. ANGELUS SILESIUS (Johann Scheffler). Sämtliche Poetische Werke. Edited by Hans Ludwig Held. Munich, 1949–52. 3 vols. (“Der

Cherubinische Wandersmann,” Vol. III, pp. 7–218.) For translations of

certain parts of the “Cherubinische Wandersmann,” see: FLITCH, J. E. CRAWFORD. Angelus Silesius: Selections from the Cherubinic Wanderer. London, 1932.

ANTONY OF PADUA, SAINT. Sermones. Padua, 1895–1913. 3 vols.

“Aphorismi Basiliani sive Canones Hermetici.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxxii.

APTOWITZER, VIKTOR (AVIGDOR). “Arabisch-jüdische Schöpfungstheorien,” Hebrew Union College Annual (Cincinnati), VI (1929), 205–46.

APULEIUS, LUCIUS. Metamorphoses. See: The Golden Ass. With an English translation by Richard Adlington. Revised by Stephen Gaselee. (Loeb Classical Library.) London and Cambridge, Mass., 1947. “Aquarium sapientum.” See (A) Musaeum hermeticum, iii.

“Arcanum Hermeticae philosophiae opus.” Geneva, 1653. See also D’ESPAGNET.

[ARISLEUS.] “Visio Arislei.” See (A) Artis auriferae, iii and xxi. ARISTOTLE. [De Anima.] On the Soul; Parva Naturalia; On Breath. With an English translation by W. S. Hett. (Loeb Classical Library.) London and Cambridge, Mass., 1935.

[ARISTOTLE, pseud.] “Tractatus Aristotelis Alchymistae ad Alexandrum Magnum, de Lapide philosophico.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xlvii. Another version in (A) Artis auriferae, xi.

ARNALDUS DE VILLA NOVA (Arnold of Villanova). “Speculum alchimiae.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxxiv.

        . “Thesaurus Thesaurorum” and “Rosarius.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xxii.

ARTEFIUS. “Clavis maioris sapientiae.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum,

xxxi. Another version in (A) MANGETUS, Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, iii.

ARTEMIDORUS DALDIANUS. Onirocriticon Libri V. Edited by Rudolf Hercher. Leipzig, 1864.

Atharvaveda. Hymns of the Atharva-Veda. Translated by Maurice Bloomfield. (Sacred Books of the East, 42.) Oxford, 1897.

    . See also GRILL.

ATHENAEUS, ALEXIS. The Deipnosophists. With an English translation by

Charles Burton Gulick. (Loeb Classical Library.) London and New York, 1927–41. 7 vols.

ATHENAGORAS. Legatio pro Christianis. See Migne, P.G., vol. 6, cols. 889–972.

ATWOOD, MARY ANNE. A Suggestive Enquiry into the Hermetic Mystery. Revised edn., Belfast, 1920. (Contains translation of Hermes Trismegistus, “Tractatus aureus.”)

AUGUSTINE, SAINT. The City of God. Translated by John Healey. Edited by R. V. G. Tasker. (Everyman’s Library.) London and New York, 1945. 2 vols.

        . The Confessions. Translated by Francis J. Sheed. London and New York, 1951.

        . Contra Faustum (Reply to Faustus the Manichean). In St. Augustine: The Writings against the Manichaeans and against the Donatists. Translated by Richard Stothert and others. (Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, 4.) Grand Rapids, 1956. (pp. 155–345.)

        . De actis cum Felice Manichaeo. See Migne, P.L., vol. 42, cols. 519–52.

        . De Natura Boni (On the Nature of the Good). See Augustine: Earlier Writings. Selected and translated by John H. S. Burleigh. (Library of Christian Classics, 6.) London, 1953. (pp. 326–48.)

        . [Enarrationes in Psalmos.] Expositions of the Book of Psalms. [Translated by J. Tweed, T. Scratton, and others.] (Library of Fathers of the Holy Catholic Church.) Oxford, 1847–57. 6 vols.

        . Epistola 55. See S. Aurelii Augustini Epistolae Pars I. Edited by

A. Goldbacher. (Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, 34.) Vienna, Prague, Leipzig, 1895. (pp. 169–213.)

        . Quaestiones in Heptateuchum. See Migne, P.L., vol. 34, cols. 547–824.

        . Sermo Suppositus 120 (In Natali Domini IV. 8). See Migne, P.L., vol. 39, cols. 1984–87.

        . [Tractatus in Joannis Evangelium.] Lectures or Tractates on the Gospel according to St. John. Translated by James Innes. (Works of Aurelius Augustinus, edited by Marcus Dods.) Edinburgh, 1874. 2 vols. “Aurelia occulta philosophorum.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxxiii.

“Aureum vellus.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xliv.

“Aurora consurgens” [Part II]. See (A) Artis auriferae, v. For Part I, see FRANZ.

“Authoris ignoti, philosophici lapidis secreta metaphorice describentis.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xii.

[AVALON, ARTHUR, pseud.] (Sir John Woodroffe) (ed. and trans.). The Serpent Power. Being the Shat-Chakra-Nirupana and Paduka- Panchaka. 2nd rev. edn., Madras, 1924.

[AVICENNA.] Tractatulus Avicennae. See (A) Artis auriferae, xv. BAADER, BENEDICT FRANZ XAVER VON. Sämmtliche Werke. Leipzig, 1851–60. 10 vols.

BAECHTOLD-STÄUBLI, HANNS. Handwörterbuch des deutschen Aberglaubens. Berlin and Leipzig, 1927–42. 10 vols.

BARNAUD, NICOLAS. “Commentarium in quoddam epitaphium Bononiae…” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxviii. Also in (A) MANGETUS, Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, ix.

BAUDIUS, DOMINICUS. Amores. Edited by Petrus Scriverius. Leyden, 1638. (For “Epitaphium Amoris ex Casperii Gevartii Electorum Libri III,” see pp. 497–518.)

BAYNES, H. G. “On the Psychological Origins of Divine Kingship,”

Folklore (London), XLVII (1936), 74–104.

BECKER, FERDINAND. Die Darstellung Jesu Christi unter dem Bilde des Fisches. Breslau, 1866.

BEER, PETER. Geschichte, Lehren und Meinungen aller bestandenen und noch bestehenden religiösen Sekten der Juden und der Geheimlehre oder Cabbalah. Brunn, 1822–23. 2 vols.

[BELINUS.] “Dicta Belini.” Included in “Allegoriae sapientum super Turbae.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xl.

BERNARD OF TREVISO (Bernardus Trevisanus.) “Liber de alchemia” (“De chemico miraculo, quod lapidem philosophiae appellant”). See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xii.

[BERNARDINO DE SAHAGÚN.] Einige Kapitel aus dem Geschichtswerk des Fray Bernardino de Sahagun aus dem Aztekischen übersetzt von Eduard Seler. Edited by Cäcilie Seler-Sachs and others. Stuttgart, 1927.

    . General History of the Things of New Spain (Florentine Codex).

Book III: The Origin of the Gods. Translated by Arthur J. C. Anderson and Charles E. Dibble. (Monographs of the School of American Research, 14, Part IV.) Santa Fe, 1952.

BERNOULLI, RUDOLF. “Spiritual Disciplines as Reflected in Alchemy and Related Disciplines.” In Spiritual Disciplines (q.v.), pp. 305–40.

BÉROALDE DE VERVILLE, FRANÇOIS (trans.). Le Tableau des riches inventions… qui sont représentées dans le Songe de Poliphile. Paris, 1600. (Contains the “Recueil sténographique.”)

BERTHELOT, MARCELLIN. La Chimie au moyen âge. Paris, 1893. 3 vols.

        . Collection des anciens alchimistes grecs. Paris, 1887–88. 3 vols.

        . Les Origines de l’alchimie. Paris, 1885.

BEZOLD, CARL (ed. and trans.). Më’arrath Gazzē. Die Schatzhöhle. Leipzig, 1883–88. 2 parts.

BISCHOFF, ERICH. Die Elemente der Kabbalah. Berlin, 1913. 2 vols. BOEHME, JAKOB. [Zweyte Apologie wieder Balthazar Tilken.] The Second Apologie to Balthazar Tylcken. See: The Remainder of Books written by Jacob Behmen. Englished by John Sparrow. London, 1662. See also below.

        . Des gottseligen, hocherleuchteten Jacob Böhmen Teutonici Philosophi alle Theosophische Schrifften. Amsterdam, 1682. (This edition of Boehme’s Works consists of a number of parts, each separately paginated and variously bound up. The parts are not numbered. It includes, inter alia, the following works referred to in the present volume. The bracketed English titles and volume references, following the German title of each work, refer to the 1764–81 London translation of the Works, cited below.)

        . Aurora. Morgenröte im Ausgang… [Aurora. Vol. I.]

        . [Drey principia.] Beschreibung der drey Principien Göttliches Wesens. [Three Principles of the Divine Essence. Vol. I.]

        . Hohe und tiefe Gründe von dem dreyfachen Leben des Menschen. [A High and Deep Search concerning the Threefold Life of Man. Vol.

II.]

        . Mysterium magnum. [Mysterium magnum. Vol. III.]

        . [Quaestiones theosophicae.] Theosophische Fragen in Betrachtung Göttlicher Offenbahrung… [Not in English collection.]

        . “Tabula Principiorum.” See De signatura rerum in this edition,

pp. 269–87.

BOEHME, JAKOB. Von der Menschwerdung Jesu Christi. [Not in English collection.]

        . The Works of Jacob Behmen. [Edited by G. Ward and T. Langcake.] London, 1764–81. 4 vols.

        . Zweyte Apologia wieder Balthazar Tilken. [Not in English collection; see above.]

BONAVENTURE, SAINT. [Itinerarium mentis in Deum.] The Franciscan Vision. Translated by Fr. James, O.M. Cap. London, 1937.

BONUS, PETRUS. “Pretiosa margarita novella.” See (A) MANGETUS, Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, v. Another version in (A) Theatrum chemicum, xlvi. Another version, edited by Janus Lacinius, Venice, 1546.

BOUCHÉ-LECLERCQ, AUGUSTE. L’Astrologie grecque. Paris, 1899. BOUSSET, WILHELM. [Der Antichrist.] The Antichrist Legend. Translated by A. H. Keane. London, 1896.

        . Hauptprobleme der Gnosis. Göttingen, 1907.

        . “Die Himmelsreise der Seele,” Archiv für Religionswissenschaft

(Tübingen and Leipzig), IV (1901), 136–69.

BRANT, SEBASTIAN. Hexastichon… in memorabiles Evangelistarum figuras. Pforzheim, 1502.

BREASTED, JAMES HENRY. Development of Religion and Thought in Ancient Egypt. New York and London, 1912.

BRENTANO, CLEMENS. Gesammelte Schriften. Edited by Christian Brentano. Frankfurt a. M., 1852–55. 9 vols.

Brihadaranyaka Upanishad. See Upanishads.

BRUCHMANN, C. F. H. Epitheta Deorum quae apud Poetas Graecos leguntur. (Ausführliches Lexikon der griechischen und römischen Mythologie, Supplement.) Leipzig, 1893.

BRUGSCH, HEINRICH. Religion und Mythologie der alten Ägypter. Leipzig, 1885.

BUDGE, ERNEST ALFRED WALLIS. Coptic Apocrypha in the Dialect of Upper Egypt. London, 1913.

        . The Egyptian Heaven and Hell. London, 1905–6. 2 vols.

        . The Gods of the Egyptians. London, 1904. 2 vols.

        . Osiris and the Egyptian Resurrection. London, 1911. 2 vols. [Bundahisn.] Der Bundehesh. Edited by Ferdinand Justi. Leipzig, 1868. BURNET, JOHN. Early Greek Philosophy. London, 1892; 4th edn., 1930. BURY, ROBERT GREGG. See PLATO.

CAESARIUS OF HEISTERBACH. Dialogue on Miracles. Translated by H.

von E. Scott and C. C. Swinton Bland. London, 1929. 2 vols. CALID. See KALID.

CAMPBELL, COLIN. The Miraculous Birth of King Amon-Hotep III. Edinburgh and London, 1912.

CAPELLE, PAUL. De luna stellis lacteo orbe animarum sedibus. Halle. 1927.

CARDANUS, HIERONYMUS (Jerome Cardan). De subtilitate. Basel, 1611. CASSEL, PAULUS STEPHANUS (previously Selig). Aus Literatur und Symbolik. Leipzig, 1884.

CASSIODORUS, M. AURELIUS. Expositio in Cantica Canticorum. See Migne, P.L., vol. 70, cols. 1055–1106.

        . Expositio in Psalterium. See Migne, P.L., vol. 70, cols. 25–1056. CAUSSIN, NICHOLAS. De symbolica Aegyptiorum sapientia. Paris, 1618.

        . Polyhistor symbolicus. Paris, 1618.

CEDRENUS, GEORGIUS. Historiarum compendium. See Migne, P.G., vols. 121 (whole) and 122, cols. 9–368.

CHARLES, R. H. (ed.). Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament. Oxford, 1913. 2 vols.

CHRISTENSEN, ARTHUR E. “Les Types du premier homme et du premier roi dans l’histoire légendaire des Iraniens,” Archives d’Études orientales (Stockholm), XIV (1917).

CHRISTOPHER OF PARIS. “Elucidarius artis transmutatoriae metallorum summa major.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, l.

CHWOLSOHN, D. Die Ssabier. St. Petersburg, 1856. 2 vols. CICERO. De natura Deorum: Academica. With a translation by H.

Rackham. (Loeb Classical Library.) London and New York, 1933.

        . De officiis. With an English translation by Walter Miller. (Loeb Classical Library.) London and Cambridge, Mass., 1938.

“Clangor buccinae.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xvi.

CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA. Stromata (Miscellanies). In: Clement of Alexandria [Works]. Edited by Otto Stählin. Leipzig, 1906–9. 3 vols. (Vol. II, and Vol. III, pp. 3–102.) For translation, see: The Writings of Clement of Alexandria. Translated by William Wilson. (Ante-Nicene Christian Library, 4, 12. Edinburgh, 1867–69. 2 vols. Vol. I, pp. 349– 470, and the whole of Vol. II.)

CLEMENT OF ROME. The Apostolical Constitutions. See next entry.

        . The Clementine Homilies and the Apostolical Constitutions. Translated by Thomas Smith, Peter Peterson, and James Donaldson. (Ante-Nicene Christian Library, 17.) Edinburgh, 1870. (The two works have separate pagination.)

        . Recognitiones. See Migne, P.G., vol. 1, cols. 1207–1474. For translation, see THEOPHILUS OF ANTIOCH.

        . Second Epistle to the Corinthians. See: LAKE, KIRSOPP (ed. and trans.). The Apostolic Fathers (Loeb Classical Library.) London and New York, 1914. 2 vols. (Vol. I, pp. 128–63.)

Codices and Manuscripts.

Berlin. Cod. Berolinensis Latinus 532. (Folios 147V-164V, “Commentum beati Thomae de Aquino super… codice[m] qui et Turba dicitur Phylosophorum.”)

Florence. Biblioteca Medicea-Laurenziana. MS. (Ashburnham 1166). “Miscellanea d’alchimia.” 14th cent.

London. British Museum. MS. Add. 5025. Four rolls drawn in Lübeck. 1588. (The “Ripley Scrowle.”)

Munich. Staatsbibliothek. Codex Germanicus 598. “Das Buch der heiligen Dreifaltigkeit.…” 1420.

Munich. Codex Latinus 4453. Gospels from Cathedral Treasury at Bamberg. 10th cent. Oxford. Bodleian Library. MS. Ashmole 1394. Contains two versions of Ripley’s “Cantilena,”

pp. 67–74, 75–82. 17th cent.

Oxford. Bodleian Library. MS. Ashmole 1445. Contains two English versions of Ripley’s “Cantilena,” fols. 2–12, 41–44.

Oxford. Bodleian Library. MS. Ashmole 1479. Contains Ripley’s “Cantilena,” fols. 223v-225v. Oxford. Bodleian Library. MS. Bruce 96 (Codex Brucianus). See: BAYNES, CHARLOTTE AUGUSTA. A Coptic Gnostic Treatise Contained in the Codex Brucianus. Cambridge, 1933.

Oxford. Bodleian Library. MS. Digby 83. 12th cent. Contains at folio 24 “Epistola Ethelwoldi ad Gerbertum papam, de circuli quadratura.”

Paris. Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal. MS. 3022. “Vision advenue en songeant à Ben Adam.…” Paris. Bibliothèque Nationale. MS. 2327. “Livre sur l’art de faire l’or.” 1478.

Paris. Bibliothèque Nationale. MS. français 14765. Abraham le Juif. “Livre des figures hiéroglifiques.”

St. Gall. Codex Germanicus Alchemicus Vadiensis. 16th cent.

In possession of author. “Figurarum Aegyptiorum secretarum.” 18th cent.

COLONNA, FRANCESCO. See BÉROALDE DE VERVILLE.

“Consilium coniugii.” See (A) Ars chemica, ii; (A) MANGETUS, Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, vii; and (A) Theatrum chemicum, xlv.

CORDOVERO, MOSE. Pardes Rimmonim. Cracow, 1592. Other editions: Mantua, 1623; Amsterdam, 1708; Munkacs, 1906.

CORNFORD, FRANCIS MACDONALD (trans.). Plato’s Cosmology. The Timaeus of Plato translated with a running commentary. London, 1937.

Corpus Hermeticum. See SCOTT, WALTER: Hermetica; also MEAD.

Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum. Consilio et auctoritate Academiae Litterarum regiae Borussicae editum. Berlin, 1863ff. 15 vols.

CRASSELAME, MARCANTONIO. See TACHENIUS.

CRAWFORD, J. P. WICKERSHAM. “EL Horóscopo del Hijo del Rey Alcaraz en el ‘Libro de buen Amor,’”

Revista de filologia española (Madrid), XII (1925), 184–90. CRAWLEY, ALFRED ERNEST. The Idea of the Soul. London, 1909.

CUMONT, FRANZ. Textes et monuments figurés relatifs aux mystères de Mithra. Brussels, 1894–99. 2 vols.

CURTIUS, ERNST ROBERT. European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages. Translated by Willard R. Trask. New York (Bollingen Series XXXVI) and London, 1953.

        . James Joyce und sein Ulysses. Zurich, 1929.

CYRIL OF JERUSALEM, SAINT. Catecheses mystagogicae. See Migne, P.L., vol. 33, cols. 1066–1128. Another edition: Opera. Edited by Wilhelm Karl Reischl and Joseph Rupp. Munich, 1848–60. 2 vols. (Vol. I, p. 29 – Vol. II, p. 343.)

DALE, ANTHONY VAN. Dissertationes de origine ac progressu idololatriae et superstitionum. Amsterdam. 1696.

DAMASCIUS DIADOCHUS. Damascii Successoris Dubitationes et Solutiones de Primis Principiis in Platonis Parmenidem. Edited by C. Emil Ruelle. Paris, 1889. 2 vols.

“De arte chymica.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xvii.

DEE, JOHN. “Monas hieroglyphica.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xix. DE GUBERNATIS, ANGELO. Zoological Mythology. London, 1872. 2 vols.

DELATTE, LOUIS. Textes latins et vieux français relatifs aux Cyranides. (Bulletin de la faculté de philosophie et lettres de l’Université de Liége, fasc. 93.) Liége and Paris, 1942.

DELPHINAS. “Liber secreti maximi.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxix.

“De magni lapidis compositione et operatione.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxiii.

“De promissionibus et praedictionibus Dei.” Attributed by some to St. Prosper (of Aquitaine). See Migne, P.L., vol. 51, cols. 733–858.

D’ESPAGNET. “Arcanum Hermeticae philosophiae opus.” See (A) MANGETUS, Bibliotheca chemica curiosa, viii. See also above, s.v. “Arcanum.…”

DEUSSEN, PAUL. Allgemeine Geschichte der Philosophie. Leipzig, 1894–1917. 2 vols. (each comprising 3 Abteilungen.)

        . Geheimlehre des Veda. Leipzig, 1907.

DIELS, HERMANN. Fragmente der Vorsokratiker. Berlin, 1934–37. 3 vols.

DIODORUS OF SICILY. Bibliotheke Historike. Translated by C. H. Oldfather, C. L. Sherman, and R. M. Gerr. (Loeb Classical Library.) London and New York, 1933– (in progress). 12 vols.

DIONYSIUS THE AREOPAGITE, pseud. De coelesti hierarchia. See Migne, P.G., vol. 3, cols. 119–370. (The commentary of George Pachymeres is here printed with the text.) For translation, see: The Celestial Hierarchies. Translated by the Editors of the Shrine of Wisdom. (Shrine of Wisdom

Manual 15.) London, 1935.

        . De divinis nominibus. See Migne, P.L., vol. 3, cols. 585–996.

For translation, see: On the Divine Names and the Mystical Theology. Translated by C. E. Rolt. London and New York, 1920.

[DIOSCORIDES.] Petri Andreae Matthioli Medici Senensis Commentarii in libros sex Pedacii Dioscoridis Anazarbei de Medica Materia. Venice, 1554.

DIRR, ADOLF (ed. and trans.). Kaukasische Märchen. (Die Märchen der Weltliteratur, ed. Fr. von der Leyen and P. Zaunert, 12.) Jena, 1920.

DOELGER, FRANZ JOSEF. Antike und Christentum. Münster, 1929–36. 5 vols.

        . Die Sonne der Gerechtigkeit und der Schwarze. Münster, 1918.

DORN, GERARD. “Congeries Paracelsicae chemicae de transmutatione metallorum.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, x.

        . “De tenebris contra naturam et vita brevi.” See (A) The atrum chemicum, viii.

        . “Duellum animi cum corpore.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, ix.

        . “Philosophia chemica.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, vii.

        . “Philosophia meditativa.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, vi.

        . “Physica genesis.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, iii.

        . “Physica Trismegisti.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, iv.

        . “Physica Trithemii.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, v.

        . “Speculativa philosophia.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, ii.

        . (ed.). Theophrasti Paracelsi Libri V de Vita longa. Frankfurt a. M., 1583. DREXELIUS, HIEREMIAS. Opera. Antwerp, 1643. 2 vols.

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        . See also ABU ‘L-QĀSIM; GEBER.

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        . Liber etymologiarum. Basel, 1489.

IZQUIERDO, SEBASTIANO. Practica di alcuni esercitij spirituali di S. Ignatio. Rome, 1686. JABIR. See GEBER.

JACOBSOHN, HELMUTH. “Die dogmatische Stellung des Königs in der Theologie der alten Ägypter,”

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JOHN OF THE CROSS, SAINT. Works. Translated by E. Allison Peers. London, 1934–35. 3 vols. (“The Dark Night of the Soul,” Vol. I, pp. 335–486.)

JOYCE, JAMES. Ulysses. Hamburg, Paris, Bologna, 1932.

JUNG, CARL GUSTAV.* Aion. Coll. Works, 9, ii. 1959; 2nd edn., 1968.

        . Alchemical Studies. Coll. Works, 13. 1967.

        . “An Analysis of the Associations of an Epileptic.” In Coll. Works, 2. 1973.

        . “Analytical Psychology and Education.” In Coll. Works, 17.

        . “Answer to Job.” In Coll. Works, 11.

        . “Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious.” In Coll. Works, 9, i.

        . “Brother Klaus.” In Coll. Works, 11.

        . “Commentary on The Secret of the Golden Flower.” In Alchemical Studies.

        . “Concerning the Archetypes, with Special Reference to the Anima Concept.” In Coll. Works, 9, i.

        . “Concerning Mandala Symbolism.” In Coll. Works, 9, i.

        . “Concerning Rebirth.” In Coll. Works, 9, i.

        . The Development of Personality. Coll. Works, 17. 1954.

        . “Instinct and the Unconscious.” In Coll. Works, 8.

        . “The Interpretation of Visions.” Seminar reports, multigraphed for private circulation. Zurich, 1939.

        . “On the Nature of Dreams.” In Coll. Works, 8.

        . “On the Nature of the Psyche.” In Coll. Works, 8.

        . “On Psychic Energy.” In Coll. Works, 8.

        . “Paracelsus the Physician.” In Coll. Works, 15.

        . “Paracelsus as a Spiritual Phenomenon.” In Alchemical Studies.

        . “The Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales.” In Coll. Works, 9, 1.

        . “The Philosophical Tree.” In Alchemical Studies.

        . “A Psychological Approach to the Dogma of the Trinity.” I Coll. Works, 11. JUNG, CARL GUSTAV. “The Psychological Aspects of the Kore.” In Coll. Works, 9, i.

        . Psychological Types. Coll. Works, 6. 1971.

        . Psychology and Alchemy. Coll. Works, 12. 1953; rev edn, 1968.

        . “The Psychology of the Child Archetype.” In Coll. Works, 9, i.

        . “The Psychology of Eastern Meditation.” In Coll. Works, 11.

        . “Psychology and Religion.” In Coll. Works, 11.

        . “The Psychology of the Transference.” In Coll. Works, 16.

        . “The Relations between the Ego and the Unconscious.” In Coll. Works, 7.

        . “A Review of the Complex Theory.” In Coll. Works, 8.

        . “Spirit and Life.” In Coll. Works, 8.

        . “The Spirit Mercurius.” In Alchemical Studies.

        . “A Study in the Process of Individuation.” In Coll. Works, 9, i.

        . Symbols of Transformation. Coll. Works, 5. 1956; rev. edn., 1967.

        . “Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle.” In Coll. Works, 8.

        . “The Transcendent Function.” In Coll. Works, 8.

        . “Transformation Symbolism in the Mass.” In Coll. Works, 11.

        . Two Essays on Analytical Psychology. Coll. Works, 7. 1953; rev. edn., 1966.

        . “Ulysses: A Monologue.” In Coll. Works, 15.

        . “The Visions of Zosimos.” In Alchemical Studies.

        . See also WILHELM.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

KALID. “Liber secretorum.” See (A) Artis auriferae, ix.

        . “Liber trium verborum.” See (A) Artis aurijerae, x.

Katha Upanishad. See Upanishads.

KEES, HERMANN. Der Götterglaube im alten Ägypten. (Mitteilungen der Vorderasiatisch- ägyptischen Gesellschaft, 45.) Leipzig, 1941.

KERÉNYI, C. (OR KARL). Das Ägäische Fest. (Albae Vigiliae, XI.) Zurich, 1941; 3rd edn., Wiesbaden, 1950.

        . Asklepios: Archetypal Image of the Physician’s Existence. Translated by Ralph Manheim. New York (Bollingen Series XV; 3) and London, 1959.

        . The Gods of the Greeks. Translated by Norman Cameron. (Pelican Books.) Harmondsworth, 1958.

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        . Töchter der Sonne. Zurich, 1944.

KHUNRATH, HEINRICH. Amphitheatrum sapientiae. Hanau, 1609.

        . Von hylealischen Chaos. Magdeburg, 1597.

KIRCHER, ATHANASIUS. Oedipus Aegyptiacus. Rome, 1652–54. 3 vols.

KNORR VON ROSENROTH, CHRISTIAN. Kabbala Denudata. Sulzbach and Frankfurt a. M., 1677–84. 2 vols. KOEHLER, REINHOLD. Kleinere Schriften zur erzählenden Dichtung des Mittelalters. Berlin, 1898– 1900. 3 vols.

KOEPGEN, GEORG. Die Gnosis des Christentums. Salzburg, 1939.

KOHUT, ALEXANDER. “Die talmudisch-midraschische Adamssage in ihrer Rückbeziehung auf die persische Yima- und Meshiasage,” Zeitschrift der deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft (Leipzig), XXV (1871), 59–94.

KOPP, HERMANN. Die Alchemie in älterer und neuerer Zeit. Heidelberg, 1886. 2 vols. Koran, The. Translated by N. J. Dawood. (Penguin Books.) Harmondsworth, 1956. KRIEG, CLAUS W. Chinesische Mythen und Legenden. Zurich, 1946.

LACINIUS, JANUS. See BONUS.

LAGNEUS, DAVID. “Harmonía chemica.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxxvi.

LAJARD, FELIX. “Mémoire sur une représentation figurée de la Vénus orientale androgyne,”

Nouvelles annales de l’Institut archéologique, Section française (Paris), I (1836), 161–212.

        . Recherches sur le culte de Vénus. Paris, 1849.

LAKE, KIRSOPP (ed. and trans.). The Apostolic Fathers. (Loeb Classical Library.) London and New York, 1914. 2 vols.

LAMBSPRINGK. “De lapide philosophico figurae et emblemata.” See (A) Musaeum hermeticum, viii. LARGUIER, LEO. Le Faiseur d’or Nicolas Flamel. (L’Histoire inconnue, 4.) Paris, 1936.

LEISEGANG, HANS. Die Gnosis. Leipzig, 1924.

        . Der heilige Geist. Vol. I, part 1 (no more published). Leipzig and Berlin, 1919. LENGLET DU FRESNOY, PIERRE NICOLAS. Histoire de la philosophie hermétique. Paris and The Hague, 1742. 3 vols.

LEO HEBRAEUS (Leone Ebreo). Philosophy of Love. Translated by F. Friedeberg-Seeley and Jean H. Barnes. London, 1937.

LESSER, FRIEDRICH CHRISTIAN. Lithotheologie. Hamburg, 1735. “Liber Alze.” See (A) Musaeum hermeticum, vii.

“Liber de arte chymica.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xvii.

“Liber de magni lapidis compositione.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxiii. LICETUS, FORTUNIUS. Allegoria peripatetica de generatione amicitia etc. Padua, 1630. LIDZBARSKI, MARK. Das Johannesbuch der Mandäer. Giessen, 1915.

LIDZBARSKI, MARK (ed. and trans.). Ginza: der Schatz oder das grosse Buch der Mandäer. (Quellen der Religionsgeschichte, Group 4, vol. 13.) Göttingen and Leipzig, 1925.

LIPPMANN, EDUARD O. VON. Entstehung und Ausbreitung der Alchemie Berlin, 1919–54. 3 vols. LOHMEYER, ERNST. “Vom göttlichen Wohlgeruch,” Sitzungsberichte der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften, Phil.-hist. Kl, IX. Abhandlung (1919).

LORICHIUS, JOHANNES. Aenigmatum Libri III. Frankfurt a. M., 1545. Lu CH’IANG-WU. See WEI PO-YANG.

[LUCIAN.] Scholia in Lucianum. Edited by Hugh Kabe. Leipzig, 1906.

LUCIAN. “Pseudomantis.” See: “Alexander; or, The False Prophet.” In: Works. Translated from the Greek by Several Eminent Hands [Walter Moyle and others]. London, 1711. 2 vols. (Vol. I, pp. 144–181.)

        . “The Syrian Goddess” (De Dea Syria). In Works (as above). (Vol. I, pp. 241–271.) “Ludus puerorum.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xx.

LULLY, RAYMUND. Codicillus. Rouen, 1651.

        . “Theorica et practica.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xxx.

Mabinogion, The. Translated by Gwyn Jones and Thomas Jones. (Everyman’s Library.) London, 1949. (“Peredur son of Efrawg,” pp. 183ff.)

MACDONELL, ARTHUR ANTHONY. A Sanskrit-English Dictionary. London, 1893.

[MACROBIUS.] Macrobii Ambrosii Theodosii Opera. Edited by Ludovicus Janus. Quedlinburg and Leipzig, 1848–52. 2 vols. (“Commentarium in Somnium Scipionis,” Vol. I, pp. 13–215; “Saturnalia,” Vol. II, pp. 3–647.) For translation of former, see: Commentary on the Dream of Scipio. Translated by William Harris Stahl. (Records of Civilization, Sources and Studies, 48.) New York, 1952.

MADATHANUS, HENRICUS. “Aureum saeculum redivivum.” See (A) Musaeum hermeticum, ii. MAIER, MICHAEL. Atalanta fugiens, hoc est, emblemata nova de secretis naturae chymica. Oppenheim, 1618.

        . De circulo physico quadrato. Oppenheim, 1616.

        . Jocus severus. Frankfurt a. M., 1617.

        . Secretions naturae secretorum Scrutinium chymicum. Franfurt a. M., 1687.

        . Symbola aureae mensae duodecim nationum. Frankfurt a. M., 1617.

MAITLAND, EDWARD. Anna Kingsford: Her Life, Letters, Diary, and Work. London, 1896. 2 vols. MÂLE, EMILE. L’Art religieux du XIIe siècle en France. 2nd edn., Paris, 1924.

MALVASIUS, CAESAR (Carlo Cesare Malvasio). Aelia Laelia Crispis non nata resurgens. Bologna, 1683.

MARIA PROPHETISSA. “Practica… in artem alchimicam.” See (A) Artis auriferae, viii. MARSILIUS FICINUS. See FICINO.

MARTIAL. Epigrams, with an English translation by Walter C. A. Ker. (Loeb Classical Library.) London and New York, 1920–25. 2 vols.

MEAD, GEORGE ROBERT STOW (ed. and trans.). Thrice Greatest Hermes. London, 1949. 3 vols. MEERPOHL, FRANZ. “Meister Eckharts Lehre vom Seelenfiinklein,” Abhandlungen zur Philosophie und Psychologie der Religion (Würzburg), Heft 10 (1926).

ME(H)UNG, JEAN DE. “Demonstrado naturae.” See (A) Musaeum hermeticum, iv.

MEIER, C. A. Antike Inkubation und moderne Psychotherapie. (Studien aus dem C. G. Jung- Institut, 1.) Zurich, 1949.

MENNENS, WILLIAM. “Aurei velleris sive sacrae philosophiae vatum selectae et unicae Libri tres.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xliv.

Merlin. Edited by Gaston Paris and Jacob Ulrich. (Société des anciens textes français.) Paris, 1886. For translation, see: Merlin, or the Early History of King Arthur. Edited by Henry B. Wheatley. (Early English Text Society, Original Series, nos. 10, 21, 36, 112.) London, 1899. 2 vols. See also GEOFFREY of MONMOUTH.

MERLINUS. “Allegoria de arcano lapidis.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xiii.

MICRERIS. “Tractatus Micreris suo discipulo Mirnefindo.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum, xli. Midrash Rabbah. Edited by W. Freedman and Maurice Simon. London and Bournemouth, 1951. 10 vols.

MIGNE, JACQUES PAUL (ed.) Patrologiae cursus completus. [P.L.] Latin Series. Paris, 1844–64, 221 vols.

[P.G.] Greek Series. Paris, 1857–66. 166 vols.

(These works are referred to in the text and in this bibliography as “Migne, P.L.” and “Migne,

P.G.” respectively. References are to columns, not to pages.)

MORET, ALEXANDRE. Du caractère religieux de la royauté pharaonique. (Annales du Musée Guimet, 15.) Paris, 1922.

        . Mystères égyptiens. Paris, 1922.

MORIENUS ROMANUS. “De transmutatione metallica.” See (A) Artis auriferae, xviii. MORRIS, RICHARD. Legends of the Holy Rood. London, 1871.

MUELLER, ERNST (trans.). Der Sohar. Das heilige Buch der Kabbala. Ausgewählte Texte. Vienna,

1932.

        . Der Sohar und seine Lehre. Vienna and Berlin, 1920.

MURMELSTEIN, BENJAMIN. “Adam: ein Beitrag zur Messiaslehre,” Wiener Zeitschrift für the Kunde des Morgenlandes (Vienna), XXXV (1928), 242–75, and XXXVI (1929), 51–86.

“Mutus liber.” See ALTUS.

MYLIUS, JOHANN DANIEL. Philosophia reformata. Frankfurt a. M., 1622.

NEIHARDT, JOHN G. Black Elk Speaks. Being the Life Story of a Holy Man of the Og[a]lala Sioux. New York, 1932.

NELKEN, JAN. “Analytische Beobachtungen über Phantasien eines Schizophrenen,” Jahrbuch für psychoanalytische und psychopathologische Forschungen (Leipzig and Vienna), IV (1912), 504–62.

NESTLE, E. “Der süsse Geruch als Erweis des Geistes,” Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft (Giessen), VII (1906), 95–96.

NEUMANN, ERICH. The Origins and History of Consciousness. Translated by R. F. C. Hull. New York (Bollingen Series XLII) and London, 1954.

NEWMAN, JOHN HENRY. An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine. London, 1845. NIEDNER, FELIX. “Edda: Götterdichtung und Spruchdichtung.” Thule (Jena), II (1920).

NIETZSCHE, FRIEDRICH WILHELM. Thus Spake Zarathustra. Translated by Thomas Common; revised by Oscar Levy and John L. Beevers. London, 1932.

NORTON, THOMAS. “The Ordinall of Alchimy.” See (A) Theatrum chemicum Britannicum, i. Nova Acta Paracelsica. (V. Jahrbuch der Schweizerischen Paracelsus-Gesellschaft, 1948.) Einsiedeln, 1949.

“Occulta Chemicorum Philosophia.” See: VALENTINUS, BASILIUS. Triumphwagen Antimonii. Leipzig, 1604. (pp. 579–694.)

ORANDUS, EIRENAEUS. See FLAMEL.

ORIGEN. Contra Celsum. Translated by Henry Chadwick. Cambridge, 1953.

        . De Oratione. See Migne, P.G., vol. 11, cols. 415–562. For translation, see: Alexandrian Christianity. Selected Translations of Clement and Origen. Edited and translated by John Ernest Leonard Oulton and Henry Chadwick. (Library of Christian Classics, 2.) London, 1954. (pp.

238–329.)

        . In Cantica Canticorum Homiliae. See Migne, P.G., vol. 13, cols. 37–58.

        . In Exodum Homiliae. See Migne, P.G., vol. 12, cols. 297–396.

        . In Ezechielem Homiliae. See Migne, P.G., vol. 13, cols. 665–768.

        . In Genesim Homiliae. See Migne, P.G., vol. 12, cols. 145–262.

        . In Leviticum Homiliae. See Migne, P.G., vol. 12, cols. 405–574.

        . In Numeros Homiliae. See Migne, P.G., vol. 12, cols. 585–806.

        . In Librum Regnorum Homiliae. See Migne, P.G., vol. 12, cols. 995–1027.

        . Peri Archon Libri IV. See Migne, P.G., vol. 11, cols. 115–414.