Mastery & Alchemy
The Academy, the Association, the Society, the Institute – what a list! I've just found a stack of memberships, and I'm idly leafing through them. I'm wasting time doing this because I think I'm trying to put off what I said I'd do, and have for some time wanted to do: writing about my fellow journeymen and masters.
In my discipline alone, at least five have reached the position of Master in the College of Alchemy. Only one can hold the title at a given time, and the incumbent is a potent magician who has been through many trials with great success. I myself held the seat for seven years; as in all things magical, seven is a good number and eight is an abundance. My predecessor was also my successor, with some reluctance. But to have five Masters in one College is a surfeit of talent, and I suspect that this is one of the highest proportions in all the Colleges of Natural Philosophy. The others (besides our current Master and the Second Master) are of course Bass-Clef Holysong and Farmer Dumpling. The former was a Master of the Gnostic Arts as well as a Master of Natural Philosophy in colleges elsewhere; the latter was Master Alchemist at the Aerie.
There are no longer Masters of Natural Philosophy at the House of the Wyvern. Rather, the old College has been broken into smaller colleges, each with its own Master. It reflects the state of our world, that complexity and chaos have overwhelmed order, and no one person can hold the centre (although some have tried to their everlasting regret and continuing torment).
Of course, in the final analysis, we all trace our philosophical ancestry to the archmage who first enunciated the Principia Mathematica; it was he who denounced hypothesis as unnecessary, but to this day it is hard to wean the apprentices off it. That famed alchemist was devout and modest, although his claims were grandiose and his intellectual pride dangerous. It seems a paradox, but that is the nature of philosophical truth: if you are right by every test, you cannot be falsely humble and pretend a modest lack of knowledge that is not the case. The correct placement of humility here is to acknowledge, as this one did, that foresight comes from standing on the shoulders of the giants who came before.
It has been a hard journey for my people. It has been difficult for many to accept that Natural Philosophy is not a key, but a fetter – non clavis, sed vincula. The disciplines of the unseen, whether of life, or force, or the elements, do not frame the entirety of our existence. And yet, as the imprudent astromancer once said, "E pur si muove." We should not claim mastery unless we are prepared to admit mystery.
And so, as I look back on the recent history of the College and its heirs, I am led to feel both regret and accomplishment. I was the last to try to hold the centre; that the world defeated me is not to my shame, nor to my glory. It is the way of the world, and the honours if any are not mine. Rather, they belong to the Creator of this bright world that is not infinite, and yet able to defeat all who live on it and will not acknowledge Him.
In my discipline alone, at least five have reached the position of Master in the College of Alchemy. Only one can hold the title at a given time, and the incumbent is a potent magician who has been through many trials with great success. I myself held the seat for seven years; as in all things magical, seven is a good number and eight is an abundance. My predecessor was also my successor, with some reluctance. But to have five Masters in one College is a surfeit of talent, and I suspect that this is one of the highest proportions in all the Colleges of Natural Philosophy. The others (besides our current Master and the Second Master) are of course Bass-Clef Holysong and Farmer Dumpling. The former was a Master of the Gnostic Arts as well as a Master of Natural Philosophy in colleges elsewhere; the latter was Master Alchemist at the Aerie.
There are no longer Masters of Natural Philosophy at the House of the Wyvern. Rather, the old College has been broken into smaller colleges, each with its own Master. It reflects the state of our world, that complexity and chaos have overwhelmed order, and no one person can hold the centre (although some have tried to their everlasting regret and continuing torment).
Of course, in the final analysis, we all trace our philosophical ancestry to the archmage who first enunciated the Principia Mathematica; it was he who denounced hypothesis as unnecessary, but to this day it is hard to wean the apprentices off it. That famed alchemist was devout and modest, although his claims were grandiose and his intellectual pride dangerous. It seems a paradox, but that is the nature of philosophical truth: if you are right by every test, you cannot be falsely humble and pretend a modest lack of knowledge that is not the case. The correct placement of humility here is to acknowledge, as this one did, that foresight comes from standing on the shoulders of the giants who came before.
It has been a hard journey for my people. It has been difficult for many to accept that Natural Philosophy is not a key, but a fetter – non clavis, sed vincula. The disciplines of the unseen, whether of life, or force, or the elements, do not frame the entirety of our existence. And yet, as the imprudent astromancer once said, "E pur si muove." We should not claim mastery unless we are prepared to admit mystery.
And so, as I look back on the recent history of the College and its heirs, I am led to feel both regret and accomplishment. I was the last to try to hold the centre; that the world defeated me is not to my shame, nor to my glory. It is the way of the world, and the honours if any are not mine. Rather, they belong to the Creator of this bright world that is not infinite, and yet able to defeat all who live on it and will not acknowledge Him.
Labels: Education, Natural Philosophy, Newton, Philosophy
etched with acid at 10:34:00 pm
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