Here again I am tempted to cry woe upon these foolish doctors whose consciences are seared with a hot iron, who do not care in the least for their patients, and will be called to a terrible account for their criminal folly on the day of judgment. Then they will behold Him whom they have pierced by neglecting their neighbour's welfare, while pocketing his money, and will see at last that they ought to have laboured night and day, in order to acquire greater skill in the healing of disease. Instead of this they complacently go on trusting to chance, prescribing the first medicine they happen to find in their books, and leaving the patient and the disease to fight it out as best they can. They do not even trouble to enquire in what way the medicines they prescribe are prepared. Their laboratory, their furnace, their drugs are at the Apothecary's, to whom they rarely or never go. They inscribe upon a sheet of paper, under the magic word "Recipe," the names of certain medicines, whereupon the Apothecary's assistant takes his mortar and pounds out of the wretched patient whatever health may still be left in him.
Change these evil times, oh. God! Cut down these trees, lest they grow up to the sky! Overthrow these overweening giants, lest they pile mountain upon mountain and attempt to storm heaven! Protect the conscientious few who quietly strive to discover the mysteries of Thy creation!
Side note: Basil Valentine wrote 'The Triumphal Chariot of Antimony' and is considered an excellent source for alchemical works.
It might have been 'Triumphant' my memory isn't too good :)
I'm reading alchemy manuals, and I found his quote in one.
The stuff I'm into, if true, and if it applies to the children and the Great Awakening...
Man, I thought with all I knew I was prepared for the Truth to come out, for the full declass. Yeah, no, I wasn't ready. I actually think I know now why it's taking so long. For the ones who really know what's been going on, I can't see how they can sleep at night -- knowing so much yet with so few honest and good with whom to converse.
You can't just learn this stuff by reading. You have to LIVE it. Those who know will understand.
It's so crazy, so fantastical, that I could straight up tell you and you'd just ignore me, as if I weren't even there and what I was saying didn't even reach your ears. It's to the degree where I almost wish I didn't know it, and if it weren't for several miracles which have occurred in my life with such surgical precision in how they relate to what I am reading today, I wouldn't.
Which means, either I'm on the right path or I sailed right past insane at least two years ago and didn't know it.
How dare you open with the claim of such wondrous knowledge, and fail to reveal it.
Those Saints who "suffered" from the stigmata, the signs of the crucifixion, are said at times to smell of the most pungent, floral yet oddly oily odour. Pleasing to the senses, of no specific origin, and reminds one of taking in the air at the start of spring, or perhaps the start of harvest.
The same odour is also said to emit during the final stages of procuring the stone.
Pray on the matter, and only one conclusion will be found. If I told you any more than this, your mind will deceive you in an effort to explain such wonders and the Truth may be lost forever.
If you don't wish to seek the stone through alchemy, just attend Mass. The Truth of the stone is there every time, when faithfully reenacted.
Ohhh, so you're just saying that you're a totally noble and pure hearted super genius, super serious if I tell you though your vile and profane normal people brain will go into shock and you'll get more stupid, awe too bad.
Seems legit, where do I send the money?