As those who are the most ignorant are generally the greatest boasters,
we find that none of them were more so, than that vain, boasting,
paradoxical enthusiast Paracelsus, who had acquired great riches by
curing a certain disease with a mercurial ointment, the knowledge of
which secret he is said to have stolen from Jacobus Berengarius, of
Caipo, in his travels thither. He was withal so illiterate, that he said
philosophy could be taught in no language but high Dutch; but the true
reason was, that he neither understood philosophy nor any other
language. He also boasted that he was in possession of a nostrum which
would prolong man's life to the age of Methusaleh, though he died
himself at the age of forty-seven. He lived in the fifteenth century.
The cures he wrought were deemed so surprising in that age, that he was
supposed to have recourse to supernatural aid. In a picture of him at
Lumley Castle, he is represented in a close black gown, with both hands
on a great sword, on whose hilt is inscribed the word Azot. This was the
name of his _familiar_ spirit, that he kept imprisoned in the pummel, to
consult on emergent occasions.
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