Disputationes chymico-medicae

For I never learned the insults τῶν λαχανοπωλῶν of the vegetable-sellers or common market-folk. This I can assert, with my good conscience testifying and the votes of many who have heard me supporting it: I have never failed to praise the teachings on Alchemy written by that same man, and I have highly recommended them to my students who sought them. But regarding other matters which he published with foolish judgment concerning Mercury and the Lapis Philosophorum Philosopher's Stone, I have conferred privately with friends who asked about it, both in person and through the exchange of letters. Most often, I have detested his supine ἀμέλειαν negligence in his own chemical labor—which alone I consider ὅπερ Ομήρῳ λόγον the true word or standard, as in Homer. For no part of a poor man's hut is colder than a ἐργασείῳ workshop or laboratory from which smoke never rises.

Yet, as much as experience proceeds in the whole of Alchemy, so much ought reason deservedly determine concerning its certainty and method of operation. Therefore, just as I have always praised his legitimate understanding of Alchemy both publicly and privately with honorable words, so I have refuted his remaining fallacies with that freedom which friendly conversations and the style of letters require among friends—at least εὐλαβῶς cautiously, and by no means γλαφυρικῶς smoothly or artfully.

But what was the profit in being hounded so frivolously, and indeed by a public writing? What great sin was there to be so greatly traduced? I call God to witness, I have seen nothing more foreign to reason. It seems that "rattle of Archytas" A reference to a toy mentioned by Aristotle, used here to suggest the critic is making noise to distract himself had this rather in his mind, born for calumny: namely, that he might intentionally seize an opportunity to attack my name. He wished to seize me with his hungry teeth like ἔλως κύνισμα dog-meat or scraps and trample me as much as he could. "You are a wicked man, Epidicus," said the comic poet, "who has a lust for speaking ill." But if anyone competes with insults, let him hear ill in return. What modesty a man does not show, he should not demand. Therefore, so that I may wipe away that "ink of the cuttlefish" meaning spite or malice with the sponge of truth in due time, honesty itself shall command neither moderation nor silence. Now, for what remains, whoever you are, young medical students who wish to be taught medical help against the bite of a sycophant, be present and stand with me thus.