TO THE READER

Whoever, therefore, has contributed something to the public benefit, his place and honor will be left to him. And let no one think us so poor, by the grace of God, that we cannot confront the chattering Paracelsians if they wish to sting and disturb us with restless noise. Those safeguards are at hand which they would scarcely have seen even in a dream. I speak of the safeguards of science. I do not dwell upon a multitude of riches. The simplicity of certain men must also be admonished, who deny that chemical matters should be published in such a way that they are useful to novices, because that precept of Hippocrates must be kept, by which he bars the profane from sacred physicians. But I think no one should be admitted unless initiated into the apprenticeships of the art. Yet the door to the beginnings must not be closed. So that many may become sacred, I invite many. Do not doubt; chemistry is not so trivial that it suffers unwashed hands. You will say or do nothing unless Minerva is unwilling a reference to Horace, Ars Poetica: one should only work when the goddess of wisdom is favorable. If God has rendered someone naturally suited for chemistry, and has thus consecrated him, would you profane him again, or prohibit him from the law of the sacred? Would you wage war against God, nature, and duty in a society? If you can teach something in a praiseworthy manner, why are you less of a teacher than the insane Paracelsus? Are you ignorant that you have been called to teach through that gift? Do you hide the talent entrusted to you? It is the infamy of the avaricious that they lack what they have, just as much as what they do not have. You possess a chemical formula, yet you neither exercise it yourself nor share it with others. How do you differ from the token of a miser? You fear that the secret might cease to be a secret, and that it might be defiled by impure hands. The more you fear, the more you degenerate from the primordial image of God. Certainly, in your judgment, God ought not to have revealed the mystery from eternity to the world, because it ceased to be hidden and has been poorly handled by many. O you, foolishly wise. How many days do you think the world will remain? You will have blessed yourself if you appear before the tribunal of Christ with your chemical secret formula committed to moths and dust rather than to a human brother. You will have achieved much if you enrich us for a short time with interest. To whom, indeed, will you leave that masterwork of yours upon death? To the worthy or the unworthy? Do not fear the unworthy; while alive, publish and manifest it to the worthy. Your heirs will not search for worm-eaten and dusty pulpits, but for money chests. Your secret, however, might perhaps reach even more dishonest hands, and you will not be praised for it then. This will be your gain: you will not fly through the mouths of men while alive, nor will you be understood to have existed at all when dead. But let us leave canine filth to the dogs. Furthermore, there will not be lacking iniquitous judges, who will unjustly cry out that I am seeking revelations for free, and will offer, along with money, conditions of silence confirmed by oath.