The art and science by which the chemical philosophers of medieval times attempted to transmute the baser metals into gold and silver. Alchemy is also the name of the Gnostic philosophy that undergirded the alchemical activity, a practical philosophy of spiritual purification. There is considerable disagreement as to which, the scientific or the philosophical, is the dominant aspect and the manner in which the two were integrated (which to some extent varied tremendously from alchemist to alchemist).
There is also considerable divergence of opinion as to the etymology of the word. One highly possible origin is the Arabic al (the) and kimya (chemistry), which in turn derived from late Greek chemeia (chemistry), from chumeia (a mingling), or cheein (to pour out or mix). The Aryan root is ghu, (to pour), whence comes the modern word gush. E. A. Wallis Budge, in his Egyptian Magic, however, states that it is possible that alchemy may be derived from the Egyptian word khemeia, "the preparation of the black ore," or "powder," which was regarded as the active principle in the transmutation of metals. To this name the Arabs affixed the article al, resulting in al-khemeia, or alchemy.
History of Alchemy
From an early period the Egyptians possessed the reputation of being skillful workers in metals, and, according to Greek writers, they were conversant with their transmutation, employing quicksilver in the process of separating gold and silver from the native matrix. The resulting oxide was supposed to possess marvelous powers, and it was thought that there resided within it the individualities of the various metals—that in it their various substances were incorporated. This black powder was mystically identified with the underworld god Osiris, and consequently was credited with magical properties. Thus there grew up in Egypt the belief that magical powers existed in fluxes and alloys. It is probable such a belief existed throughout Europe in connection with the bronze-working castes of its several races. (See Shelta Thari)
It was probably in the Byzantium of the fourth century, however, that alchemical science received embryonic form. There is little doubt that Egyptian tradition, filtering through Alexandrian Hellenic sources, was the foundation upon which the infant science was built, and this is borne out by the circumstance that the art was attributed to Hermes Trismegistus and supposed to be contained in its entirety in his works.
The Arabs, after their conquest of Egypt in the seventh century, carried on the researches of the Alexandrian school, and through their instrumentality the art was carried to Morocco and in the eighth century to Spain, where it flourished. During the next few centuries Spain served as the repository of alchemical science, and the colleges at Seville, Cordova, and Granada were the centers from which this science radiated throughout Europe. The first practical alchemist was probably the Arabian Geber, who flourished in the early to mid-eighth century C.E. His Summa Perfectionis implies that alchemical science had already matured in his day, and that he drew his inspiration from a still older unbroken line of adepts. He was followed by Avicenna, Meisner, and Rhasis; in France by Alain of Lisle, Arnaldus de Villanova, and Jean de Meung the troubadour; in England by Roger Bacon; and in Spain by Raymond Lully.
Later, in French alchemy, the most illustrious names are those of Nicolas Flamel (fourteenth century), and Bernard Trévisan (fifteenth century), after which the center of interest changes in the sixteenth century to Germany and in some measure to England, in which countries Paracelsus, Heinrich Khunrath, Michael Maier, Jakob Boehme, Jean Van Helmont, the Brabanter, George Ripley, Thomas Norton, Thomas Dalton, Jean Martin Charnock, and Robert Fludd kept the alchemical flame burning brightly. In Britain, the great scientist Sir Isaac Newton conducted alchemical research.
It is surprising how little alteration is found throughout the period between the seventh and the seventeenth centuries, the heyday of alchemy, in the theory and practice of the art. The same sentiments and processes put forth by the earliest alchemical authorities are also found expressed by the later experts, and a unanimity regarding the basic canons of the art is expressed by the hermetic students of all periods, thus suggesting the dominance of the philosophical teachings over any "scientific" applications. With the introduction of chemistry as a practical art, alchemical science fell into disuse, already having suffered from the number of charlatans practicing it. Here and there, however, a solitary student of the art lingered, and the subject has to some extent been revived during modern times.
The Theory and Philosophy of Alchemy
The grand objects of the alchemical art were (1) the discovery of a process by which the baser metals might be transmuted into gold and silver; (2) the discovery of an elixir by which life might be prolonged indefinitely; and there is sometimes added (3) the manufacture of an artificial process of human life (see Homunculus). Religiously, the transmutation of metals can be thought of as a symbol of the transmutation of the self to a higher consciousness and the discovery of the elixir as an affirmation of eternal life.
The transmutation of metals was to be accomplished by a powder, stone, or elixir often called the philosophers' stone, the application of which would effect the transmutation of the baser metals into gold or silver, depending on the length of time of its application. Basing their conclusions on the examination of natural processes and metaphysical speculation concerning the secrets of nature, the alchemists arrived at the axiom that nature was divided into four principal regions: the dry, the moist, the warm, the cold, from which all that exists must be derived. Nature was also divisible into the male and the female. She is the divine breath, the central fire, invisible yet ever active, and is typified by sulphur, which is the mercury of the sages, which slowly fructifies under the genial warmth of nature.
Thus, the alchemist had to be ingenuous, of a truthful disposition, and gifted with patience and prudence, following nature in every alchemical performance. He recalled that like attracts like, and had to know how to obtain the "seed" of metals, which was produced by the four elements through the will of the Supreme Being and the Imagination of Nature. We are told that the original matter of metals was double in its essence, being a dry heat combined with a warm moisture, and that air is water coagulated by fire, capable of producing a universal dissolvent. These terms the neophyte must be cautious of interpreting in their literal sense, for it is likely that alchemists, other than the several frauds, were speaking about the metaphysics of inner spirituality. Great confusion exists in alchemical nomenclature, and the gibberish employed by the scores of charlatans who in later times pretended to a knowledge of alchemical matters did not tend to make things any more clear.
The neophyte alchemist also had to acquire a thorough knowledge of the manner in which metals "grow" in the bowels of the earth. They were said to be engendered by sulphur, which is male, and mercury, which is female, and the crux of alchemy was to obtain their "seed"—a process the alchemistical philosophers did not describe with any degree of clarity. The physical theory of transmutation is based on the composite character of metals, and on the presumed existence of a substance which, applied to matter, exalts and perfects it. This substance, Eugenius Philalethes and others called "The Light." The elements of all metals were said to be similar, differing only in purity and proportion. The entire trend of the metallic kingdom was toward the natural manufacture of gold, and the production of the baser metals was only accidental as the result of an unfavorable environment. The philosophers' stone was the combination of the male and female "seeds" that form gold. The composition of these was so veiled by symbolism as to make their precise identification impossible.
Occult scholar Arthur Edward Waite, summarized the alchemical process once the secret of the stone was unveiled: "Given the matter of the stone and also the necessary vessel, the processes which must be then undertaken to accomplish the magnum opus are described with moderate perspicuity. There is the calcination or purgation of the stone, in which kind is worked with kind for the space of a philosophical year. There is dissolution which prepares the way for congelation, and which is performed during the black state of the mysterious matter. It is accomplished by water which does not wet the hand. There is the separation of the subtle and the gross, which is to be performed by means of heat. In the conjunction which follows, the elements are duly and scrupulously combined. Putrefaction afterwards takes place, 'Without which pole no seed may multiply.' "Then, in the subsequent congelation the white colour appears, which is one of the signs of success. It becomes more pronounced in cibation. In sublimation the body is spiritualised, the spirit made corporeal, and again a more glittering whiteness is apparent. Fermentation afterwards fixes together the alchemical earth and water, and causes the mystic medicine to flow like wax. The matter is then augmented with the alchemical spirit of life, and the exaltation of the philosophic earth is accomplished by the natural rectification of its elements. When these processes have been successfully completed, the mystic stone will have passed through three chief stages characterised by different colours, black, white, and red, after which it is capable of infinite multication, and when projected on mercury, it will absolutely transmute it, the resulting gold bearing every test. The base metals made use of must be purified to insure the success of the operation. The process for the manufacture of silver is essentially similar, but the resources of the matter are not carried to so high a degree.
"According to the Commentary on the Ancient War of the Knights the transmutations performed by the perfect stone are so absolute that no trace remains of the original metal. It cannot, however, destroy gold, nor exalt it into a more perfect metallic substance; it, therefore, transmutes it into a medicine a thousand times superior to any virtues which can be extracted from it in its vulgar state. This medicine becomes a most potent agent in the exaltation of base metals."
Other modern authorities have denied that the transmutation of metals was the grand object of alchemy, and from reasons highlighted earlier, among others, inferred from the alchemistical writings that the object of the art was the spiritual regeneration of mankind. Mary Ann Atwood, author of A Suggestive Inquiry into the Hermetic Mystery, and Civil War General Ethan Allen Hitchcock, author of Remarks upon Alchemy and the Alchemists, were perhaps the chief protagonists of the belief that, by spiritual processes akin to those of the chemical processes of alchemy, the soul of man may be purified and exalted. Both somewhat overstated their case in their assertion that the alchemical writers did not claim that the transmutation of base metal into gold was their grand object. While the spiritual quest may have been dominant, none of the passages that Atwood and Hitchcock quote was inconsistent with the physical aspect of alchemy. Eugenius Philalethes, for example, in his work The Marrow of Alchemy, argues forcefully that the real quest is for gold. It is constantly impressed upon the reader, however, in the perusal of esteemed alchemical works, that only those who are instructed by God can achieve the grand secret. Others, again, state that while a novice might possibly stumble upon it, unless guided by an adept the beginner has small chance of achieving the grand arcanum.
The transcendental view of alchemy, however, rapidly gained ground through the nineteenth century. Among its exponents was A. E. Waite, who argued, "The gold of the philosopher is not a metal, on the other hand, man is a being who possesses within himself the seeds of a perfection which he has never realized, and that he therefore corresponds to those metals which the Hermetic theory supposes to be capable of development. It has been constantly advanced that the conversion of lead into gold was only the assumed object of alchemy, and that it was in reality in search of a process for developing the latent possibilities in the subject man."
At the same time, it must be admitted that the cryptic character of alchemical language was probably occasioned by a fear on the part of the alchemical mystic that he might lay himself open through his magical opinions to the rigors of the law.
Meanwhile, several records of alleged transmutations of base metals into gold have survived. These were reportedly achieved by Nicholas Flamel, Van Helmont, Martini, Richthausen, and Sethon. In nearly every case the transmuting element was said to be a mysterious powder or the "philosophers' stone."
Modern Alchemy
A correspondent writing to the British newspaper Liverpool Post in its Saturday, November 28, 1907, edition gave an interesting description of a veritable Egyptian alchemist whom he had encountered in Cairo not long before: "I was not slow in seizing an opportunity of making the acquaintance of the real alchemist living in Cairo, which the winds of chance had blown in my direction. He received me in his private house in the native quarter, and I was delighted to observe that the appearance of the man was in every way in keeping with my notions of what an alchemist should be. Clad in the flowing robes of a graduate of Al Azhar, his long grey beard giving him a truly venerable aspect, the sage by the eager, far-away expression of his eyes, betrayed the mind of the dreamer, of the man lost to the meaner comforts of the world in his devotion to the secret mysteries of the universe. After the customary salaams, the learned man informed me that he was seeking three things—the philosophers' stone, at whose touch all metal should become gold—the elixir of life, and the universal solvent which would dissolve all substances as water dissolves sugar; the last, he assured me, he had indeed discovered a short time since. I was well aware of the reluctance of the medieval alchemists to divulge their secrets, believing as they did that the possession of them by the vulgar would bring about ruin of states and the fall of divinely constituted princes; and I feared that the reluctance of the modern alchemist to divulge any secrets to a stranger and a foreigner would be no less. However, I drew from my pocket Sir William Crookes's spinthariscope—a small box containing a particle of radium highly magnified—and showed it to the sheikh. When he applied it to his eye and beheld the wonderful phenomenon of this dark speck flashing out its fiery needles on all sides, he was lost in wonder, and when I assured him that it would retain this property for a thousand years, he hailed me as a fellow-worker, and as one who had indeed penetrated into the secrets of the world. His reticence disappeared at once, and he began to tell me the aims and methods of alchemical research, which were indeed the same as those of the ancient alchemists of yore. His universal solvent he would not show me, but assured me of its efficacy. I asked him in what he kept it if it dissolved all things. He replied 'In wax,' this being the one exception. I suspected that he had found some hydrofluoric acid, which dissolves glass, and so has to be kept in wax bottles, but said nothing to dispel his illusion.
"The next day I was granted the unusual privilege of inspecting the sheikh's laboratory, and duly presented myself at the appointed time. My highest expectations were fulfilled; everything was exactly what an alchemist's laboratory should be. Yes, there was the sage, surrounded by his retorts, alembics, crucibles, furnace, and bellows, and, best of all, supported by familiars of gnome-like appearance, squatting on the ground, one blowing the fire (a task to be performed daily for six hours continuously), one pounding substances in a mortar, and another seemingly engaged in doing odd jobs. Involuntarily my eyes sought the pentacle inscribed with the mystic word ' Abracadabra, ' but here I was disappointed, for the black arts had no place in this laboratory. One of the familiars had been on a voyage of discovery to London, where he bought a few alchemical materials; another had explored Spain and Morocco, without finding any alchemists, and the third had indeed found alchemists in Algeria, though they had steadily guarded their secrets. After satisfying my curiosity in a general way, I asked the sage to explain the principles of his researches and to tell me on what his theories were based. I was delighted to find that his ideas were precisely those of the medieval alchemists namely, that all metals are debased forms of the original gold, which is the only pure, non-composite metal; all nature strives to return to its original purity, and all metals would return to gold if they could; nature is simple and not complex, and works upon one principle, namely, that of sexual reproduction. It was not easy, as will readily be believed, to follow the mystical explanations of the sheikh. Air was referred to by him as the 'vulture,' fire as the 'scorpion,' water as the 'serpent,' and earth as 'calacant'; and only after considerable cross-questioning and confusion of mind was I able to disentangle his arguments. Finding his notions so entirely medieval, I was anxious to discover whether he was familiar with the phlogistic theory of the seventeenth century. The alchemists of old had noticed that the earthy matter which remains when a metal is calcined is heavier than the metal itself, and they explained this by the hypothesis, that the metal contained a spirit known as 'phlogiston,' which becomes visible when it escapes from the metal or combustible substance in the form of flame; thus the presence of the phlogiston lightened the body just as gas does, and on its being expelled, the body gained weight. I accordingly asked the chemist whether he had found that iron gains weight when it rusts, an experiment he had ample means of making. But no, he had not yet reached the seventeenth century; he had not observed the fact, but was none the less ready with his answer; the rust of iron was an impurity proceeding from within, and which did not affect the weight of the body in that way. He declared that a few days would bring the realisation of his hopes, and that he would shortly send me a sample of the philosophers' stone and of the divine elixir; but although his promise was made some weeks since, I have not yet seen the fateful discoveries."
That alchemy has continued to be studied in relatively modern times there can be no doubt. Louis Figuier in his L'Alchimie et les Alchimistes (1854), dealing with the subject of modern alchemy, as expressed by the initiates of the first half of the nineteenth century, states that many French alchemists of his time regarded the discoveries of modern science as merely so many evidences of the truth of the doctrines they embraced. Throughout Europe, he said, the positive alchemical doctrine had many adherents at the end of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth.
Reportedly, a "vast association of alchemists" called the Hermetic Society, founded in Westphalia in 1790, continued to flourish in the year 1819. In 1837 an alchemist of Thuringia presented to the Société Industrielle of Weimar a tincture he averred would effect metallic transmutation. About the same time several French journals announced a public course of lectures on hermetic philosophy by a professor of the University of Munich.
Figuier further stated that many Hanoverian and Bavarian families pursued in common the search for the grand arcanum. Paris, however, was regarded as the alchemistical Mecca. There lived many theoretical alchemists and "empirical adepts." The first pursued the arcanum through the medium of books; the others engaged in practical efforts to effect transmutation.
During the 1840s Figuier frequented the laboratory of a certain Monsieur L., which was the rendezvous of the alchemists of Paris. When Monsieur L's pupils left the laboratory for the day the modern adepts dropped in one by one, and Figuier relates how deeply impressed he was by the appearance and costumes of these strange men. In the daytime he frequently encountered them in the public libraries, buried in the study of gigantic folios, and in the evening they might be seen pacing the solitary bridges with eyes fixed in vague contemplation upon the first pale stars of night. A long cloak usually covered their meager limbs, and their untrimmed beards and matted locks lent them a wild appearance. They walked with a solemn and measured gait, and used the figures of speech employed by the medieval illuminés. Their expression was generally a mixture of the most ardent hope and a fixed despair.
Among the adepts who sought the laboratory of Monsieur L., Figuier noticed especially a young man in whose habits andlanguage he could see nothing in common with those of his strange companions. He confounded the wisdom of the alchemical adept with the tenets of the modern scientist in the most singular fashion, and meeting him one day at the gate of the observatory, M. Figuier renewed the subject of their last discussion, deploring that "a man of his gifts could pursue the semblance of a chimera." Without replying, the young adept led him into the observatory garden and proceeded to reveal to him the mysteries of modern alchemical science.
The young man recognized a limit to the research of the modern alchemists. Gold, he said, according to the ancient authors, has three distinct properties: (1) resolving the baser metals into itself, and interchanging and metamorphosing all metals into one another; (2) curing afflictions and the prolongation of life; and (3) serving as a spiritus mundi to bring mankind into rapport with the supermundane spheres. Modern alchemists, he continued, rejected the greater part of these ideas, especially those connected with spiritual contact. The object of modern alchemy might be reduced to the search for a substance having power to transform and transmute all other substances one into another—in short, to discover that medium known to the alchemists of old as the philosophers' stone and now lost to us. In the four principal substances of oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and azote, we have the tetractus of Pythagoras and the tetragram of the Chaldeans and Egyptians. All the sixty elements are referable to these original four. The ancient alchemical theory claimed that all the metals are the same in their composition, that all are formed from sulphur and mercury, and that the difference between them is according to the proportion of these substances in their composition. Further, all the products of minerals present in their composition complete identity with those substances most opposed to them. For example, fulminating acid contains precisely the same quantity of carbon, oxygen, and azote as cyanic acid, and "cyanhydric" acid does not differ from formate ammoniac. This new property of matter is known as "isomerism." Figuier's friend then proceeded to quote in support of his thesis the operations and experiments of M. Dumas, a celebrated French savant, as well as those of William Prout and other English chemists of standing.
Passing on to consider the possibility of isomerism in elementary as well as in compound substances, he pointed out to Figuier that if the theory of isomerism can apply to such bodies, the transmutation of metals ceases to be a wild, unpractical dream and becomes a scientific possibility, the transformation being brought about by a molecular rearrangement. Isomerism can be established in the case of compound substances by chemical analysis, showing the identity of their constituent parts. In the case of metals it can be proved by the comparison of the properties of isomeric bodies with the properties of metals, in order to discover whether they have any common characteristics.
M. Dumas, speaking before the British Association, had shown that when three simple bodies displayed great analogies in their properties, such as chlorine, bromide, and iodine, barium, strontium, and calcium, the chemical equivalent of the intermediate body is represented by the arithmetical mean between the equivalents of the other two. Such a statement well showed the isomerism of elementary substances and proved that metals, however dissimilar in outward appearance, were composed of the same matter differently arranged and proportioned. This theory successfully demolished the difficulties in the way of transmutation.
If transmutation is thus theoretically possible, it only remains to show by practical experiment that it is strictly in accordance with chemical laws, and by no means inclines to the supernatural.
At this juncture, the young alchemist proceeded to liken the action of the philosophers' stone on metals to that of a ferment on organic matter. When metals are melted and brought to red heat, a molecular change may be produced analogous to fermentation. Just as sugar, under the influence of a ferment, may be changed into lactic acid without altering its constituents, so metals can alter their character under the influence of the philosophers' stone. The explanation of the latter case is no more difficult than that of the former. The ferment does not take any part in the chemical changes it brings about, and no satisfactory explanation of its effects can be found either in the laws of affinity or in the forces of electricity, light, or heat. As with the ferment, the required quantity of the philosophers' stone is infinitesimal.
The alchemist then averred that medicine, philosophy, every modern science was at one time a source of such errors and extravagances as are associated with medieval alchemy, but they are not therefore neglected and despised. Why, then, should we be blind to the scientific nature of transmutation? One of the foundations of alchemical theories was that minerals grow and develop in the earth, like organic things. It was always the aim of nature to produce gold, the most precious metal, but when circumstances were not favorable the baser metals resulted. The desire of the old alchemists was to surprise nature's secrets, and thus attain the ability to do in a short period what nature takes years to accomplish. Nevertheless, the medieval alchemists appreciated the value of time in their experiments as modern alchemists never do.
Figuier's friend urged him not to condemn these exponents of the hermetic philosophy for their metaphysical tendencies, for, he said, there are facts in our sciences that can only be explained in that light. If, for instance, copper is placed in air or water, there will be no result, but if a touch of some acid is added, it will oxidize. The explanation is that "the acid provokes oxidation of the metal, because it has an affinity for the oxide which tends to form"—a material fact almost metaphysical in its production, and only explicable thereby.
Alchemy in the Twentieth Century
Since the nineteenth-century speculations of Figuier, the modern view of alchemy has primarily regarded it as a mystical approach to chemistry. With the development of subatomic physics and nuclear fission, the transmutation of elements became a reality, culminating in the atomic bomb and atomic power stations, but the vast apparatus and energy needed to transmute elements has increased skepticism that the old alchemists ever succeeded in their dreams.
The alchemical work gave way to ceremonial magic, which today carries most of what is left of the alchemical hermetic tradition. However, there have been a few contemporary figures who followed the alchemical metaphor. Among these was Frater Albertus, who emerged in the 1970s as head of the Paracelsus Research Society in Salt Lake City, Utah. He wrote a number of books about his work, however these only hinted at any alchemical success.
Sources:
Albertus, Frater. The Alchemist of the Rocky Mountains. Salt Lake City, Utah: Paracelsus Research Society, 1976.
——. The Alchemist's Handbook: Manual for Practical Laboratory Alchemy. Rev. ed. New York: Samuel Weiser, 1974.
Atwood, Mary Anne. A Suggestive Inquiry Into the Hermetic Mystery. London, 1850. Rev. ed. Belfast, 1918. Reprint, New York: Julian Press, 1960. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1976.
Bacon, Roger. The Mirror of Alchemy. London, 1597. Los Angeles: Press of the Pegacycle Lady, 1975.
Barbault, Armand, Gold of a Thousand Mornings. London: Neville Spearman, 1975.
Boyle, Robert. Works. 5 vols. London, 1744. Rev. ed. 6 vols. London, 1772.
Cummings, Richard. Alchemists: Fathers of Practical Chemistry. New York: David O. McKay, 1966.
De Givry, Grillot. Witchcraft, Magic & Alchemy. London, 1931. Reprinted as Illustrated Anthology of Sorcery, Magic & Alchemy. New York: Causeway, 1973.
De Rola, Stanislaw K. Alchemy: The Secret Art. Bounty Books/ Crown, 1973. Reprint, London: Thames & Hudson, 1973.
Doberer, Kurt K. The Goldmakers: Ten Thousand Years of Alchemy. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood, 1948.
Dobbs, Betty Jo T. Foundations of Newton's Alchemy; or, The Hunting of the Greene Lyon. Cambridge, Mass.: Cambridge University Press, 1975.
Eliade, Mircea. The Forge and the Crucible. London, 1962.
Federmann, Reinhard. The Royal Art of Alchemy. New York: Chilton, 1969.
Ferguson, J. Bibliotheca Chemica; a Bibliography of Books on Alchemy, Chemistry and Pharmaceutics. 2 vols. London, 1954.
Figuier, Louis. L'Alchimie et les Achimistes. Paris, 1856.
Hitchcock, C. A. Remarks Upon Alchemy and the Alchemists. Boston: Crosby, Nichols, 1857. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1976.
Journal of the Alchemical Society 3 vols., London, 1913-15.
Jung, C. G. Psychology and Alchemy. Volume 12 of the Collected Works. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1968.
Laoux, Gaston. Dictionnaire Hermetique. Paris, 1695.
Lapidus. In Pursuit of Gold: Alchemy in Theory and Practice. London: Neville Spearman, 1976.
Lenglet, Dufresnoy N. Histoire de la Philosophie Hermetique. 2 vols. Paris, 1792.
Read, J. Prelude to Chemistry. London, 1936. Reprint, Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1957.
Redgrove, H. Stanley. Alchemy: Ancient and Modern. London: Rider, 1922. Reprint, New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1969.
——. Bygone Beliefs. London, 1920. Reprinted as Magic & Mysticism: Studies in Bygone Beliefs. New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1971.
Sadoul, Jacques. Alchemists and Gold. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1972. Reprint, London: Neville Spearman, 1972.
Silberer, Herbert. The Hidden Symbolism of Alchemy and the Occult Arts. New York: Dover Books, 1971. Reprint, Magnolia, Mass.: Peter Smith, 1972.
Thompson, Charles J. Alchemy: Source of Chemistry & Medicine. London, 1897. Reprint, Sentry Press, 1974.
Valentine, Basil. Triumphal Chariot of Antimony. London, 1656.
Waite, A. E. The Alchemical Writings of Edward Kelly. New York: Samuel Weiser, 1973.
——. Alchemists Through the Ages. Blauvelt, N.Y.: Rudolf Steiner Publications, 1970.
——. Azoth, or the Star in the East. London, 1893. Reprint, New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1973.
——. The Occult Sciences. London, 1923. Reprint, New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1973.
Waite, A. E., ed. The Hermetical & Alchemical Writings of Paracelsus. 2 vols., London, 1894. Reprint, New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1967.
——. The Works of Thomas Vaughan, Mystic and Alchemist. London, 1919. Reprint, New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1968.
Zetznerus, L., ed. Theatrum Chimicum. 6 vols. Strasbourg, France, 1659-61.
