historical lecturers and essays-第23部分

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novelties　which　they　could　not　understand；　as　enemies　of　God；　who



were　balking　him　in　his　grand　plan　for　regenerating　science　and



alleviating　the　woes　of　humanity；　and　he　outraged　their　prejudices



instead　of　soothing　them。







Soon　they　had　their　revenge。　　Ugly　stories　were　whispered　about。



Oporinus；　the　printer；　who　had　lived　with　him　for　two　years；　and　who



left　him；　it　is　said；　because　he　thought　Paracelsus　concealed　from



him　unfairly　the　secret　of　making　laudanum；　told　how　Paracelsus　was



neither　more　nor　less　than　a　sot；　who　came　drunk　to　his　lectures；



used　to　prime　himself　with　wine　before　going　to　his　patients；　and



sat　all　night　in　pothouses　swilling　with　the　boors。







Men　looked　coldly　on　himlonged　to　be　rid　of　him。　　And　they　soon



found　an　opportunity。　　He　took　in　hand　some　Canon　of　the　city　from



whom　it　was　settled　beforehand　that　he　was　to　receive　a　hundred



florins。　　The　priest　found　himself　cured　so　suddenly　and　easily



that；　by　a　strange　logic；　he　refused　to　pay　the　money；　and　went　to



the　magistrates。　　They　supported　him；　and　compelled　Paracelsus　to



take　six　florins　instead　of　the　hundred。　　He　spoke　his　mind　fiercely



to　them。　　I　believe；　according　to　one　story；　he　drew　his　long　sword



on　the　Canon。　　His　best　friends　told　him　he　must　leave　the　place；



and　within　two　years；　seemingly；　after　his　first　triumph　at　Basle；



he　fled　from　it　a　wanderer　and　a　beggar。







The　rest　of　his　life　is　a　blank。　　He　is　said　to　have　recommenced　his



old　wanderings　about　Europe；　studying　the　diseases　of　every　country；



and　writing　his　books；　which　were　none　of　them　published　till　after



his　death。　　His　enemies　joyfully　trampled　on　the　fallen　man。　　He　was



a　〃dull　rustic；　a　monster；　an　atheist；　a　quack；　a　maker　of　gold；　a



magician。〃　　When　he　was　drunk；　one　Wetter；　his　servant；　told　Erastus



（one　of　his　enemies）　that　he　used　to　offer　to　call　up　legions　of



devils　to　prove　his　skill；　while　Wetter；　in　abject　terror　of　his



spells；　entreated　him　to　leave　the　fiends　alonethat　he　had　sent



his　book　by　a　fiend　to　the　spirit　of　Galen　in　hell；　and　challenged



him　to　say　which　was　the　better　system；　his　or　Paracelsus'；　and　what



not？







His　books　were　forbidden　to　be　printed。　　He　himself　was　refused　a



hearing；　and　it　was　not　till　after　ten　years　of　wandering　that　he



found　rest　and　protection　in　a　little　village　of　Carinthia。







Three　years　afterwards　he　died　in　the　hospital　of　St。　Sebastian　at



Salzburg；　in　the　Tyrol。　　His　death　was　the　signal　for　empirics　and



visionaries　to　foist　on　the　public　book　after　book　on　occult



philosophy；　written　in　his　nameof　which　you　may　see　ten　folios



not　more　than　a　quarter；　I　believe；　genuine。　　And　these　foolish



books；　as　much　as　anything；　have　helped　to　keep　up　the　popular



prejudice　against　one　who；　in　spite　of　all　his　faults　was　a　true



pioneer　of　science。　｛15｝　　I　believe　（with　those　moderns　who　have



tried　to　do　him　justice）　that　under　all　his　verbiage　and　confusion



there　was　a　vein　of　sound　scientific；　experimental　common　sense。







When　he　talks　of　astronomy　as　necessary　to　be　known　by　a　physician；



it　seems　to　me　that　he　laughs　at　astrology；　properly　so　called；　that



is；　that　the　stars　influence　the　character　and　destiny　of　man。



Mars；　he　says；　did　not　make　Nero　cruel。　　There　would　have　been　long…



lived　men　in　the　world　if　Saturn　had　never　ascended　the　skies；　and



Helen　would　have　been　a　wanton；　though　Venus　had　never　been　created。



But　he　does　believe　that　the　heavenly　bodies；　and　the　whole　skies；



have　a　physical　influence　on　climate；　and　on　the　health　of　men。







He　talks　of　alchemy；　but　he　means　by　it；　I　think；　only　that　sound



science　which　we　call　chemistry；　and　at　which　he　worked；　wandering；



he　says；　among　mines　and　forges；　as　a　practical　metallurgist。







He　tells　uswhat　sounds　startling　enoughthat　magic　is　the　only



preceptor　which　can　teach　the　art　of　healing；　but　he　means；　it　seems



to　me；　only　an　understanding　of　the　invisible　processes　of　nature；



in　which　sense　an　electrician　or　a　biologist；　a　Faraday　or　a　Darwin；



would　be　a　magician；　and　when　he　compares　medical　magic　to　the



Cabalistic　science；　of　which　I　spoke　just　now　（and　in　which　he　seems



to　have　believed）；　he　only　means；　I　think；　that　as　the　Cabala



discovers　hidden　meaning　and　virtues　in　the　text　of　Scripture；　so



ought　the　man　of　science　to　find　them　in　the　book　of　nature。　　But



this　kind　of　talk；　wrapt　up　too　in　the　most　confused　style；　or



rather　no　style　at　all；　is　quite　enough　to　account　for　ignorant　and



envious　people　accusing　him　of　magic；　saying　that　he　had　discovered



the　philosopher's　stone；　and　the　secret　of　Hermes　Trismegistus；　that



he　must　make　gold；　because；　though　he　squandered　all　his　money；　he



had　always　money　in　hand；　and　that　he　kept　a　〃devil's…bird；〃　a



familiar　spirit；　in　the　pommel　of　that　famous　long　sword　of　his；



which　he　was　only　too　ready　to　lug　out　on　provocationthe　said



spirit；　Agoth　by　name；　being　probably　only　the　laudanum　bottle　with



which　he　worked　so　many　wondrous　cures；　and　of　which；　to　judge　from



his　writings；　he　took　only　too　freely　himself。







But　the　charm　of　Paracelsus　is　in　his　humour；　his　mother…wit。　　He



was　blamed　for　consorting　with　boors　in　pot…houses；　blamed　for



writing　in　racy　German；　instead　of　bad　school…Latin：　　　but　you　can



hardly　read　a　chapter；　either　of　his　German　or　his　dog…Latin；



without　finding　many　a　good　thingwitty　and　weighty；　though　often



not　a　little　coarse。　　He　talks　in　parables。　　He　draws　illustrations；



like　Socrates　of　old；　from　the　commonest　and　the　oddest　matters　to



enforce　the　weightiest　truths。　　〃Fortune　and　misfortune；〃　he　says；



for　instance　nobly　enough；　〃are　not　like　snow　and　wind；　they　must　be



deduced　and　known　from　the　secrets　of　nature。　　Therefore　misfortune



is　ignorance；　fortune　is　knowledge。　　The　man　who　walks　out　in　the



rain　is　not　unfortunate　if　he　gets　a　ducking。〃







〃Nature；〃　he　says　again；　〃makes　the　text；　and　the　medical　man　adds



the　gloss；　but　the　two　fit　each　other　no　better　than　a　dog　does　a



bath；〃　and　again；　when　he　is　arguing　against　the　doctors　who　hated



chemistry〃Who　hates　a　thing　which　has　hurt　nobody？　　Will　you



complain　of　a　dog　for　biting　you；　if　you　lay　hold　of　his　tail？　　Does



the　emperor　send　the　thief　to　the　gallows；　or　the　thing　which　he　has



stolen？　　The　thief；　I　think。　　Therefore　science　should　not　be



despised　on　account　of　some　who　know　nothing　about　it。〃　　You　will



say　the　reasoning　is　not　very　clear；　and　indeed　the　passage；　like



too　many　more；　smacks　strongly　of　wine　and　laudanum。　　But　such　is



his　quaint　racy　style。　　As　humorous　a　man；　it　seems　to　me；　as　you



shall　meet　with　for　many　a　day；　and　where　there　is　humour　there　is



pretty　sure　to　be　imagination；　tenderness；　and　depth　of　heart。







As　for　his　notions　of　what　a　man　of　science　should　be；　the　servant



of　God；　and　of　Naturewhich　is　the　work　of　Godusing　his　powers



not　for　money；　not　for　ambition；　but　in　love　and　charity；　as　he



says；　for　the　good　of　his　fellow…manon　that　matter　Paracelsus　is



always　noble。　　All　that　Mr。　Browning　has　conceived　on　that　point；



all　the　noble　speeches　which　he　has　put　into　Paracelsus's　mouth；　are



true　to　his　writings。　　How　can　they　be　otherwise；　if　Mr。　Browning



set　them　fortha　genius　as　accurate　and　penetrating　as　he　is　wise



and　pure？







But　was　Paracelsus　a　drunkard　after　all？







Gentlemen；　what　concern　is　that　of　yours　or　mine？　　I　have　gone　into



the　question；　as　Mr。　Browning　did；　cannot　say；　and　don't　care　to



say。







Oporinus；　who　slandered　him　so　cruelly；　recanted　when　Paracelsus　was



dead；　and　sang　his　praisestoo　late。　　But　I　do　not　read　that　he



recanted　the　charge　of　drunkenness。　　His　defenders　allow　it；　only



saying　that　it　was　the　fault　not　of　him　alone；　but　of　all　Germans。



But　if　so；　why　was　he　specially　blamed　for　what　certainly　others　did



likewise？　　I　cannot　but　fear　from　his　writings；　as　well　as　from



common　report；　that　there　was　something　wrong　with　the　man。　　I　say



only　something。　　Against　his　purity　there　never　was　a　breath　of



suspicion。　　He　was　said　to　care　nothing　for　women；　and　even　that　was



made　the　subject　of　brutal　jests　and　lies。　　But　it　may　have　been



that；　worn　out　with　toil　and　poverty；　he　found　comfort　in　that



laudanum　which　he　believed　to　be　the　arcanumthe　very　elixir　of



life；　that　he　got　more　and　more　into　the　habit　of　exciting　his



imagination　with　the　narcotic；　and　then；　it　may　be；　when　the　fit　of



depression　followed；　he　strung　his　nerves　up　again　by　wine。　　It　may



have　been　so。　　We　have　had；　in　the　last　generation；　an　exactly



similar　case　in　a　philosopher；　now　I　trust　in　heaven；　and　to　whose



genius　I　owe　too　much　to　mention　his　name　here。







But　that　Paracelsus　was　a　sot　I　cannot　believe。　　That　face　of　his；



as　painted　by　the　great　Tintoretto；　is　not　the　face　of　a　drunkard；



quack；　bully；　but　of　such　a　man　as　Browning　has　conceived。　　The



great　globular　brain；　the　sharp　delicate　chin；　is　not　that　of　a　sot。



Nor　are　those　eyes；　which　gleam　out　from　under　the　deep　compressed



brow；　wild；　intense；　hungry；　homeless；　defiant；　and　yet　complaining；



the　eyes　of　a　sotbut　rather　the　eyes　of　a　man　who　struggles　to



tell　a　great　secret；　and　cannot　find　words　for　it；　and　yet　wonders



why　men　cannot　understand；　will　not　believe　what　seems　to　him　as



clear　as　daya　tragical　face；　as　you　well　can　see。







God　keep　us　all　from　making　our　lives　a　tra