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Aula
Lucis |
To the Present Readers
It will be questioned perhaps by the envious to what purpose these sheets are prostituted, and especially that drug wrapped in them — the Philosopher's Stone. To these it is answered by Solomon in Ecclesiastes III,5: "There is a time to cast away stones." And truly — I must confess — I cast away this Stone, for I misplace it. I contribute that to the fabric which the builders in all ages have refused. But less I seem to act sine proposito, I must tell you I do it not for this generation, for they are as far from fire as the author is from smoke. Understand me if you can, for I have told you an honest truth. I write books, as the old Roman planted trees, for the glory of God and the benefit of posterity. It is my design to make over my reputation to a better age, for in this I would not enjoy it, because I know not any from whom I would receive it. And here you see how ambitious I am grown; but if you judge the humour amiss tell me not of it, less I should laugh at you. I look indeed a step further than your lives, and if you think I may die before you I would have you know it is the way to go beyond you.
To be short — if you attempt this discourse, you do it without my advice, for it is not fitted to your fortunes. There is a white magic this book is enchanted withal: it is an adventure for Knights of the Sun, and the errants of this time may not finish it? I speak this to the university Quixotes, and to those only who are ill-disposed as well as undisciplined. There is among them a generation of wasps, things that will fight though never provoked. These buckle on their logic as proof, but it fares with them as with the famous Don: they mistake a basin for a helmet. For mine own part I am no reformer. I can well enough tolerate their positions, for they do not trouble mine. What I write is no rule for them, but is a legacy deferred to posterity; for the future times, wearied with the vanities of the present, will perhaps seek after the truth and gladly entertain it. Thus you will see what readers I have predestined for myself; but if any present Mastix fastens on this discourse I wish him not to traduce it, less I should whip him for it. This is advice, which if be well observed, it is possible I may communicate more of this nature. I may stand up like a Pharus in a dark night and hold out that lamp which Philalethes has overcast with that envious phrase of the Rabbis. "Ofttimes the silence of wisdom."
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