The Last Chapter - Concerning The Fire That Consumes Without Leaving Ashes, That Is More Powerful Than All Other Fires, And That Has As Its Smith The Great Son Of Venus.

I HAVE now traversed for you in the small and fragile bark of my writing all the shores of the deep and spacious sea embracing the uses of material fires, drawn on by my own desire to enrich you with more learning and with the procedures of these things, as much as to satisfy your demands. Having through the grace of God arrived at the appointed end of my voyage and neither knowing nor perceiving a way of going farther, I had decided to furl the [167] sails and cast die heavy anchors into the water in order to enjoy in tranquillity respite from my sailing, when I was warned by my pilot that before I could disembark I should turn my glance backward and reexamine my work in detail to see if there were any part that had by chance remained undescribed in the obscurity of silence. When I did this there immediately appeared in my mind's eye the many sublimates and smoky tinctures that had been made by the burning and most powerful fire of love. I need not say that I knew of it in far-off countries or from the knowledge of others, but I knew it in my own breast and as my very own and can therefore surely esteem it as hotter than all the other fires that the world calls by that name. Although today its sparks and living flames are spent because of my cold and hoary season, nevertheless it is true that the memory of acts of love of long ago still remains with some smoke and warmth. Therefore, since in this work of mine I wish to describe for you the effects and powers of fires, I should logically have spoken of this before any of the others, because of its actual nearness and the great acquaintance I had with it. But since I have had the glance of my intentions directed at distant things, I have behaved as one does who does not see where he places his feet because he is looking at the sky, or as one who thinks about the affairs of others and forgets his own. But now I do not wish to pass over this thing and I wish to correct my error, particularly in order to provide a happier ending to my written work than by remaining among the horrible uproar of guns, powder, and saltpeter, which would be a harsher ending than speaking of love. Never-