the feare of God (setting aside all vain ostentation) let them sing everlasting praises of thankfulnesse unto the great and good God, for so speciall a gift, and use it wel with a silent and religious joy—— Simplicity or plainnesse is the seal of truth. [Illustration: *decorative divider*] A NEW LIGHT OF ALCHYMIE. _THE FIRST TREATISE._ _Of Nature, what she is, and what her searchers ought to be._ Many wise, and very learned men many ages since, yea (Hermes testifying the same) before the floud wrote many things concerning the making the Philosophers stone; and have bequeathed so many writings unto us, that unlesse Nature should daily worke things credible to us, scarce any one would beleeve it as a truth that there were any nature at all: because in former ages there were not so many devisers of things, neither did our Ancestors regard any thing besides nature it selfe, and the possibility of nature. And although they were contented with the plaine way alone of nature, yet they found out those things, which we now imployed about divers things could not with all our wits conceive. This is because nature, and the generation of things in the world is esteemed of us meane, and plaine. And therefore we bend our wits not to things knowne, and familiar, but to such things, which not at all, or very hardly can be done. Wherefore it happens that we are more dexterous in devising curious subtilties, and such which the Philosophers themselves did never thinke of, then to attain to the true processe of nature, & the right meaning of Philosophers. And such is the disposition of mens natures, as to neglect those things they know, and to be alwaies seeking after other things; such also and much more is that of mens wits, and fancies, to which their nature is subjected. As for example; You see any Artificer, when he hath attained to the highest perfection of his Art, either searcheth into other Arts, or abuseth the same, which he already hath, or else leaves it off quite. So also is generous nature alwaies active and doing to its very Iliad (_i_) utmost period, and afterward ceaseth. For there is given to nature from the beginning a certaine kinde of grant, or permission still to attaine to things better, and better through her whole progresse, and to come to her full rest, towards which she tends with all her might, and rejoyceth in her end, as a Pismire doth in her old age, at which time nature makes her wings. Even so our wits have proceeded so farre, especially in the Phylosophicall Art, or praxis of the stone, that now we are almost come to the Iliad it selfe. For the Art of Chymistry hath now found out such subtilties, that scarce greater can be invented, and differ as much from the Art of the Ancient Philosophers as a Clock-smith doth from a plaine Black-smith: And although both worke upon Iron, yet neither understands the others labours, although both are masters of their Art. If Hermes himselfe,