one or two a piece, except the dependants of Bernard, who were obliged
to borrow their quota from their patron. The grand experiment was duly
made; the golden marks were put into a crucible, with a quantity of
salt, copperas, aquafortis, egg-shells, mercury, lead, and dung. The
alchymists watched this precious mess with intense interest, expecting
that it would agglomerate into one lump of pure gold. At the end of
three weeks they gave up the trial, upon some excuse that the crucible
was not strong enough, or that some necessary ingredient was wanting.
Whether any thief had put his hands into the crucible is not known,
but it is certain that the gold found therein at the close of the
experiment was worth only sixteen marks, instead of the forty-two,
which were put there at the beginning.

Bernard, though he made no gold at Vienna, made away with a very
considerable quantity. He felt the loss so acutely, that he vowed to
think no more of the philosopher's stone. This wise resolution he kept
for two months; but he was miserable. He was in the condition of the
gambler, who cannot resist the fascination of the game while he has a
coin remaining, but plays on with the hope of retrieving former
losses, till hope forsakes him, and he can live no longer. He returned
once more to his beloved crucibles, and resolved to prosecute his
journey in search of a philosopher who had discovered the secret, and
would communicate it to so zealous and persevering an adept as
himself. From Vienna he travelled to Rome, and from Rome to Madrid.
Taking ship at Gibraltar, he proceeded to Messina; from Messina to
Cyprus; from Cyprus to Greece; from Greece to Constantinople; and
thence into Egypt, Palestine, and Persia. These wanderings occupied
him about eight years. From Persia he made his way back to Messina,
and from thence into France. He afterwards passed over into England,
still in search of his great chimera; and this occupied four years