The Philosophical Stone

Extracted from COLLECTANEA CHEMICA

ed. by A.E. Waite

[1893] at Sacred Texts

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THE

BOSOM BOOK

OF

SIR GEORGE RIPLEY,

Canon of Bridlington:

CONTAINING

His Philosophical Accurtations in Making the Philosopher’s Mercury and Elixirs.

THE BOSOM BOOK OF SIR GEORGE RIPLEY.

The whole work of the composition of the Philosophical Stone of the great elixir and of the first solution of the gross body.

FIRST take thirty pounds weight of sericon, or antimony, which will make twenty-one pounds weight of gum, or near thereabouts, if it be well dissolved and the vinegar is very good; and dissolve each pound thereof in a gallon of twice distilled vinegar. When cold again, and, as it standeth in dissolution in a fit glass vessel, stir it about with a clean stick very often every day, the oftener the better; and when it is well molten to the bottom, then filter over the said liquors three several times, which keep close covered, and cast away the fæces, for that is superfluous filth which must be removed and entereth not into the work, but is called Terra damnata.

The making of our Gum, or Green Lion.

Then put all these cold liquors, thus filled, into a fit glass vessel and set it in Balneo Mariæ to evaporate in a temperate heat; which done, our sericon will be coagulated into a green gum called our Green Lion; which gum dry well, yet beware thou burn not his flowers, nor destroy his greenness.

The extraction of our Menstruum or Blood of our Green Lion.

Then take out the said gum and put it into a strong retort of glass, very well luted, and place it in your furnace, and under that, at the first, make sober fire, and anon you see a white smoke or fume issue. Then put, too, a receiver of glass, which must have a very large belly and the mouth no wider than it may well receive into that the neck of the retort, which close well together, that no fume issue forth of the receiver. Then increase your fire by little and little, till the fume which issueth be reddish; then continue the greater fire, until drops like blood come forth, and no more fume will issue forth; and when that leaveth bleeding, let it cool, or assuage the fire by little and little; and when all things are cold then take away the receiver, and close it fast suddenly, that the spirits vanish not away, for this liquor is called our blessed liquor: which liquor keep close stopped in a glass till hereafter. Then look into the neck of the retort, and therein you will find a white hard rime, as it were the congelation of a frosty vapour, or much like sublimate, which gather with diligence and keep it apart, for therein are contained great secrets which shall be showed hereafter, after the great work is ended.

The Creation of our Basis.

Then take out all the fæces which remain in the retort, and arc blackish like unto soot, which feces are called our Dragon, of which fæces calcine one pound or more at your pleasure in a fervent hot fire, in a potter’s or glass-maker’s furnace, or in a furnace of vent (or a wind furnace), until it become a white calx, as white as snow; which white calx keep well and clean by itself, for it is called the basis and foundation of the work, and is now called Mars, and our White Fixed Earth, or Ferrum Philosophorum.

The Calcination of the Black Fæces, called our Black Dragon.

Then take all the rest of the aforesaid black fæces, or Black Dragon, and spread them somewhat thin upon a clean marble, or other fit stone, and put into the one side thereof a burning coal, and the fire will glide through the fæces within half-an-hour, and calcine them into a citrine colour very glorious to behold.

The Solution of the said Fæces.

Then dissolve those citrine fæces in such distilled vinegar as you did before, and then filter it likewise three times as before, and after make or evaporate it into a gum again, and then draw out of it more of our menstruum, called now Dragon’s Blood, and iterate this work in all points as afore until you have either brought all or the most part of the fæces into our natural and blessed liquor: all which liquor put to the first liquor or menstrue called the Green Lion’s blood, and set that liquor altogether in one vessel of glass fourteen days in putrefication; and after proceed to the separation of elements, for now have you all the fire of the stone in this our blessed liquor, which before lay hidden in the fæces; which secret all the philosophers do marvellously hide.

The Separation of the Elements whereof the first is the Air, and is also counted our Ardent Water and our Water Attractive.

Then put all the said putrefied menstruum into a still of fine Venice glass, fit for the quantity thereof; put on the limbeck, and close it to the still with a fine linen cloth dipped in the white of an egg, and then set it in Balneo Mariæ, put to the receiver, which must be of great length, that the spirit respire not out again; and with a very temperate heat separate the elements one from another, and then the element of air will issue forth first, which is an oil.

Our Ardent Water or Water Attractive is thus made.

When all the first element is distilled, then in another still, fit for it, rectify it: that is to say, distil it over seven several times, and until it will burn a linen cloth clean up that is dipped into it, when it is put to the flame, which is then called our Ardent Water rectified and is also called our Water Attractive; which keep very close stopped, for otherwise the spirit thereof, which is very subtle, will vanish away. By often rectifying the ardent water, there will come air in a white oil swimming above the water, and there will remain behind a yellow oil, which with a stronger fire will also come over. Put sublimate, beaten small, upon a plate of iron, and in the cold it will dissolve into water, and will draw to itself all the mercury in the form of a green oil swimming aloft; which separate and put into a retort, and distil first a water, and afterward will come a green thick oil, which is the oil of mercury.

The Flood or Water of the Stone.

Then draw out the flood or water of the stone by itself in another receptory, which liquor will be somewhat white, and draw it with a very gentle fire of Balneum, until there remain in the bottom of the still a thick oily substance, like unto liquid pitch; keep this water by itself in a fit glass, very close stopped.

NOTE.—When the liquor cometh white you must put on another receiver, for then all that element is come over; two or three drops of this black liquid oil given in spirit of wine cureth all poison taken inwardly.

Our Man’s Blood is thus taken and rectified.

Then put our ardent water upon that matter black and liquid; stir them well together, and let it so stand well covered for three hours; then decant and filter it; put on fresh ardent water, and repeat this operation three times, and then distil it again with a moist lent fire of Balneum; and so do three times, and then it is called Man’s Blood rectified, which the workers in the secrets of Nature do seek, and so thou hast the elements exalted in the virtue of their quintessence, namely, the flood that is water and the air. Let this blood be kept for a season.

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Extracted from the Royal Society of Chemistry:

Many wars have been fought over territory, some over pride or love or money. But in the 1600s a long and bitter war was waged over antimony.


What, you might ask, is there to fight about in this apparently unremarkable element, a soft, greyish metal that doesn’t even conduct electricity well enough to qualify as a true metal? It has its uses, but they are mundane: as an alloy component of battery electrodes and of pewter, and as a flame retardant.


But at the heart of the Antimony War, which raged in France and Germany throughout much of the seventeenth century, was a more unlikely use of antimony. Some doctors of that age believed that it was a vital ingredient in medicine. The advocates and opponents of this point of view didn’t actually take up arms: they fought with pen in hand, sometimes denouncing one another in terms far more vitriolic than we’ll find in the academic literature today.


It’s very curious that the subject of this dispute should be antimony, because this element is actually rather toxic, causing liver damage in large enough doses. But pharmaceutical uses of antimony have a long history. In the ancient world it was known primarily in the form of its black sulphide ore, called stibnite, which the Greek physician Dioscorides recommended for skin complaints in the first century AD. The Egyptians, meanwhile, used stibnite as a cosmetic, applying it as a form of mascara. They called it kuhl, meaning ‘eye-paint’, and to the later Islamic alchemical physicians this became al-kohl. From its original meaning of powdered stibnite, this term came to designate any powder, and then a potent extract of any substance. In the early sixteenth century the Swiss alchemical physician Paracelsus called a distilled extract of wine alcool vini, from where we get the modern word alcohol: a long and strange road from eye make-up to intoxicating liquor.


Paracelsus was particularly fond of antimony compounds as medicines. After his death, Paracelsus’s chemical medicine was championed by many doctors in Europe, especially in France, and some of these made antimony their most prized remedy. One, a German salt-maker who wrote under the false persona of a fifteenth-century monk called Basil Valentine, published an entire book advertising antimony remedies in 1604 called The Triumphal Chariot of Antimony. Valentine admitted that antimony was poisonous – in fact he offered an apocryphal explanation for the name, saying that it derives from anti-monachos, meaning ‘anti-monk’ in Latin, because he once unintentionally poisoned several of his fellow monks by adding it secretly to their food in an attempt to improve their health. But he claimed that alchemy could be used to free the metal of its toxic effects and make it “a most salutary Medicine”.


The Paracelsian chemical physicians were opposed by traditionalists who preferred the medical theories of the ancient doctors like Hippocrates, based on the idea that our health is controlled by a balance of four humours. This was partly a battle for academic power, but the rival camps were also split along religious and political lines. So there was a lot riding on the struggle, and for a time it crystallized around the medical value of antimony.


The toxicity of antimony can cause vomiting – but to its supporters, this was seen as a good thing. They would administer the salt antimony tartrate as a so-called emetic, a vomit-inducer that was believed to purge the body of other bad substances.


Some doctors continued to prescribe antimony freely after the inconclusive Antimony War, and it has been suggested that a fondness for antimony remedies was what actually killed Mozart in 1791. By the nineteenth century it had become a favourite slow poison for murderers eager to conceal their crimes – a chemical villain almost as notorious as lead.

Qliphoth

I’ll start this with a quotation from Wiki:

“The Qliphoth/Qlippoth/Qlifot or Kelipot (Hebrew: קְלִיפּוֹת‎, the different English spellings are used in the alternative Kabbalistic traditions of Hermetic Qabalah and Jewish Kabbalah respectively), literally “Peels”, “Shells” or “Husks” (from singular: קְלִפָּה‎ qlippah “Husk”), are the representation of evil or impure spiritual forces in Jewish mysticism, the polar opposites of the holy Sefirot. The realm of evil is also termed Sitra Achra/Aḥra (Aramaic סטרא אחרא‎, the “Other Side” opposite holiness) in Kabbalah texts.”

“In Jewish Kabbalistic cosmology of Isaac Luria, the qlippot are metaphorical “shells” surrounding holiness. They are spiritual obstacles receiving their existence from God only in an external, rather than internal manner. Divinity in Judaism connotes revelation of God’s true unity, while the shells conceal holiness, as a peel conceals the fruit within. They are therefore synonymous with idolatry, the root of impurity through ascribing false dualism in the Divine, and with the Sitra Achra (סטרא אחרא “Other Side”), the perceived realm opposite to holiness. They emerge in the descending seder hishtalshelus (Chain of Being) through Tzimtzum (contraction of the Divine Ohr), as part of the purpose of Creation. In this they also have beneficial properties, as peel protects the fruit, restraining the Divine flow from being dissipated. Kabbalah distinguishes between two realms in qlippot, the completely impure and the intermediate.

Their four “concentric” terms are derived from Ezekiel’s vision (1:4), “And I looked and behold, a whirlwind came out of the north, a great cloud, and a fire infolding itself, and a brightness was about it…” The “Three Impure Qlippot” (completely Tamei “impure”) are read in the first three terms, the intermediate “Shining Qlippah” (Nogah “brightness”) is read in the fourth term, mediating as the first covering directly surrounding holiness, and capable of sublimation. In medieval Kabbalah, the Shekhinah is separated in Creation from the Sefirot by man’s sin, while in Lurianic Kabbalah Divinity is exiled in the qlippot from prior initial Catastrophe in Creation. This causes “Sparks of Holiness” to be exiled in the qlippot, Jewish Observance with physical objects redeeming mundane Nogah, while the Three Impure Qlippot are elevated indirectly through Negative prohibitions. Repentance out of love retrospectively turns sin into virtue, darkness into light. When all the sparks are freed from the qlippot, depriving them of their vitality, the Messianic era begins. In Hasidic philosophy, the kabbalistic scheme of qlippot is internalised in psychological experience as self-focus, opposite to holy devekut self-nullification, underlying its Panentheistic Monistic view of qlippot as the illusionary self-awareness of Creation.”

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I am not entirely sure that the authors of the wiki page know what they are, yet they do a scholarly job.

If you succumb to using the dark jewels such as disharmony and manipulation it is possible that you destroy whole swathes of potential via the effects of your causal actions. The more you manipulate and then lie to cover up for your deeds, the more destruction and damage you do to the world. The more you inflict.  It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Desperately trying to spin plates life gets completely out of control and the force and this is the right word, turns back in upon you. Involution.

Manipulate, lie, lie starts to surface, manipulate, lie further, fear sets in, justify, lie starts to surface, manipulate, spin. The Qliphoth are not free, they exact a price. They look good to start with, but boy do they attach and suck vitality, they feed on those so attracted.

They can twist and distort, they can even derange.

It takes a special level of awareness to interact with the Qliphoth without being tarnished, overly tempted and then drawn in.

Orange man was/is a fan of the dark jewels. They have started to hunt him now…he may be a stable genius, but the dark jewels are like Dementors.

If you play with the dark side and are impure, ambitious, and self-aggrandizing there is every chance that you will have your fingers burned.

I can see traces in the web of life, linking several people.  I can hold the lines between them clear in my consciousness, thanks to the dragons. 😉

Only when you have collected ALL the light jewels can you enter and exit the world of the sorcerers at will and without harm…

People are so clever…

So wise..

Things That Go Bump in The Night !

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

“The Charm of Making” Merlin or Myddrin.

If you chant this charm, this mantra, in deep voice it sounds pretty damn spooky. I’ll wager that should you and I ever find ourselves sat around a fading camp fire in an isolated spot and I struck up the chanting. You would have the metaphorical hackles on the back of your neck stand up. You might even shit a brick.

There are loads of people who pooh-pooh the paranormal and things that go bump in the night from the safety of their armchair. But once again I’ll wager that many of these, despite their professed rationality, would not go willingly and alone into a supposed haunted house. Also, if they are brave enough to watch horror movies, they might jump from time to time.

The day we arrived here I went down to the river to talk with the korrigans.

“In Breton folklore, a Korrigan ([kɔˈriːɡɑ̃n]) is a fairy or dwarf-like spirit. The word korrigan means “small-dwarf” (korr means dwarf, ig is a diminutive and the suffix an is a hypocoristic). It is closely related to the Cornish word korrik which means gnome. The name changes according to the place. Among the other names, there are korrig, korred, korrs, kores, couril, crion,goric, kornandon, ozigan, nozigan, teuz, torrigan, viltañs, poulpikan, and paotred ar sabad.”

To me it seemed to be the most sensible thing to do, to say hello and to ask their permission to live amongst them. I was ultra-polite and “spoke” from my heart.

Over the weeks which followed we encountered various ward off charms around the house at “entry points”. These were left by the previous owner a practising catholic, there is even a place where the sun has bleached the outline of her crucifix into the wallpaper. When we were looking for houses out in the Breton countryside, we on occasion noted witch marks, inscribed to ward off bad witches. To a man with north wales blood, this seems perfectly natural.

So, what we profess and how we behave or respond may differ markedly. People like the sound of their own voice.

We were having some odd occurrences here, so I went around the house wearing my insignia and with a smudge stick smouldering. There was something up on the top floor in one of the attics which I encouraged to leave.  When I got into the vide sanitaire, a kind of basement, the smudge stick burst into flame. Residual methane or something that goes bump in the night? I did a deep cleanse.

I mentioned before that my personality is seventh ray. I like planning…

Here is the technique of integration as per The Tibetan.

Ray Seven

  ” ‘I seek to bring the two together. The plan is in my hands. How shall I work? Where lay the emphasis? In the far distance stands the One Who Is. Here at my hand is form, activity, substance, and desire. Can I relate these and fashion thus a form for God? Where shall I send my thought, my power the word that I can speak?

‘I, at the center, stand, the worker in the field of magic. I know some rules, some magical controls, some Words of Power, some forces which I can direct. What shall I do? Danger there is. The task that I have undertaken is not easy of accomplishment, yet I love power. I love to see the forms emerge, created by my mind, and do their work, fulfil the plan and disappear. I can create. The rituals of the Temple of the Lord are known to me. How shall I work?

 ‘Love not the work. Let love of God’s eternal Plan control your life, your mind, your hand, your eye. Work towards the unity of plan and purpose which must find its lasting place on earth. Work with the Plan; focus upon your share in that great work.’

The word goes forth from soul to form: ‘Stand in the center of the pentagram, drawn upon that high place in the East within the light which ever shines. From that illumined center work. Leave not the pentagram. Stand steady in the midst. Then draw a line from that which is without to that which is within and see the Plan take form.’ “

For a period of months, when I got home from my day job teaching science and had eaten, I would light five candles in the shape of pentagram within a circle as per the famous Leonardo da Vinci diagram. I entered from the East and lay down in perfect alignment. I would then mediate and do the Toltec Dreaming practice prone on the floor for around 40 minutes. The candles had to be lit in sequence. When I was finished, I left the pentagram by the East and then extinguished the candles in reverse order. It has to be ceremonial or it does not work.

I’ll wager than none of my colleagues ever imagined that I was doing this.

{After all they knew me so very well and understood all my motives perfectly…}

If you think about it things like graduation ceremonies are forms of ritual magic. A whole bunch of geezers dress up in fancy robes and then process up to a stage like in my case The Royal Albert Hall. The initiates of higher education walk through those about to receive their degrees. There is a master or mistress of ceremonies and some big wig hands out the degrees. Ritual magic is everywhere, just look at the funny wigs in the UK courts. The gavel…you get my drift.

If the world can be explained only by science, as it currently stands, there are no things which go bump in the night. They are illogical and figments, they do not exist.

As a thought experiment:

How strong is your faith?

Would you walk in a graveyard at night?

Would you come with me into a haunted basement?

If I sounded the charm of making and the Dragon’s Breath began to manifest, what would you do?

Dragon “Haiku”

old dragon in a cave

many golden trinkets

watches the sand falling

 

dead dragon haunts

can not let go

as heavy debris, weighs

 

the wily dragon

narrows his eyes

so desu ka?

 

old dragon palms

his baguazhang

can he learn?

 

in the water margins

peasants hide

too proud for dragons

 

young dragon waits

needs no grimoires

his flute is only Dao

 

he may not seek

but can be found

who yet, hunts dragons?

 

he pulls up his cowl

blends into shadows

so desu ne..

Waiting for Annwn

Hiding beyond the tangible edges

a secret ninja writes runic beginning

borne by the postman’s bat like wings

as fate impregnates the future’s concubine

 

The winged feet of Hermes

pitter patter in the nursery

to resolve the racemate

on one hand this, on the other that

 

The silent swish of parachutes

harbingers of some noumenon

full of swirling nativity

for which there is no crib sheet

 

The monkey puzzle tree

ever enigmatic clothed in stealth

that no radar might ping it coming

a creative Creole dish now simmering

 

Steaming slowly from out the fissure

of days yet to find dawn

the Dragon’s breath it breathes

its misty nascent magic on the land

 

The spectre rides pterodactyls

the pigeons of the past

with a pod of secrets coded

which no cipher can

 

The hush of Awen exhales

acorns of potential

scrambled in the eggs

which need first to break

 

The omelette of tomorrow

yet unfolded in its pan

which the pipers play

too far from ears

 

The pregnancy of now

has not taken full hold

the purpose ectopic

what chance the embryonic path?     

 

An incoming alphabet of letters swirl

in the tea ceremony

to the beat of a bristle brush

stretched on the rack of Raku glaze

 

The unbearable wait of pendant

hangs head bowing heavy

around the neck of how

and of what and of where

 

The sergeant cries incoming

into all the shell like ears

all hairs stand at attention

creased sharp between the shoulder blades

 

Formless yet still shaping

a first hint of substance

itches itself out the prime

and scratches scale to weigh the order

 

The swings and roundabouts

turn wind in the playground

waiting for the break

through all the children’s laughter

 

Hiding beyond the tangible edges

a secret ninja writes runic beginnings

borne by the postman’s bat like wings

as fate impregnates the future’s concubine

Mists of Dragon Lore

I have a bit of a “thing” about dragons. I have a joke that I was aiming to incarnate in Bhutan, saw the flag of Wales and ended up in Cardiff instead. Born in the year of the dragon, in a land of dragon lore and now living in Pays du Trégor …

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Flag of Wales (1959–present).svg

Flag of Bhutan

The flighty Golden Dragon

swims through the air

filled with coy and cunning

shining, shimmering, volatile, majestic

 

The Green Tree Dragon hides

just outside the window

whispering healing,

through the panes and leaves

 

The red, Red Dragon breathes

fire and brimstone

sensuality, passion

blood

 

The Blue Dragon soars

sober and scholarly

with eyes that see,

further

 

The Thunder dragon

sounds hammers

in the mountain anvils

and forges

 

The Chinese Dragon

tells riddles

and rhymes

of changing wisdom

 

And the crying free man

born Son of Dragon

carries blood

in his claws

 

Blood of ages

carried across Galaxies

from other aeons

and he is a most Ancient Dragon

 

Go now to the place

the place appointed you

and coalesce

coalesce the Eternal Mists of Dragon Lore


 

Hidden Dragon

Beneath the granite

the slate and the shale

dripping mystic tears

the cave broods

lachrymal

 

Each hesitant drop

marks time, as it

ekes a basin

out the rocks;

the metronome of destiny

 

Myddrin of the opened eye

watches from afar

as Taliesin he opines

and verses Bardic on

the gathering Eisteddfodau of dreams

 

‘neath the cornerstone

the hidden Dragon stirs

scratching an ear

with a claw,

pensive on his waking

 

Who calls forth

the Dragon from his sleep?

Who has the temerity

to enter his brooding lair?

Who summons the Dragon’s breath?

 

Stretching lithe

and yawning wide

he flexes wings

unfurled flags

and blinking eyes

 

He remembers when

he came here

from the Dragon’s realm

high on the cosmic planes

to be Sentinel

 

Again the eye is open

he climbs out the cave

to his mountain Eyri

to espy

the world of men

 

And he breathes

the very hush of Dragon’s breath

rolling over fields

under doors

to permeate, to permeate

 

The breath clings

holding its magic lore

intact, sensing smells

and nuance

as the Dragon now inhales

 

He breathes again

primordial

Jurassic

and before

to cloak the world

 

For in the mist

of Dragon’s breath

only he can see

and as the Sentinel of eternity

he must ever watch

 

With eyes keen

beyond ken

and sharp,

as sharp

as the Sword of Taia.

 

Y Ddraig Glas

the very last of the Sentinels

is now abroad

and his aeonial purpose

beckons