The flame quivered and shrank away from his breath, but clung to the
wick, and resumed its brilliancy as soon as the blast was exhausted.

"It is an undying lamp from the tomb of Charlemagne," observed my
guide. "That flame was kindled a thousand years ago."

"How ridiculous to kindle an unnatural light in tombs!" exclaimed I.
"We should seek to behold the dead in the light of heaven. But what
is the meaning of this chafing-dish of glowing coals?"

"That," answered the virtuoso, "is the original fire which
Prometheus stole from heaven. Look steadfastly into it, and you
will discern another curiosity."

I gazed into that fire,--which, symbolically, was the origin of all
that was bright and glorious in the soul of man,--and in the midst
of it, behold a little reptile, sporting with evident enjoyment of
the fervid heat! It was a salamander.

"What a sacrilege!" cried I, with inexpressible disgust. "Can you
find no better use for this ethereal fire than to cherish a
loathsome reptile in it? Yet there are men who abuse the sacred fire
of their own souls to as foul and guilty a purpose."

The virtuoso made no answer except by a dry laugh and an assurance
that the salamander was the very same which Benvenuto Cellini had
seen in his father's household fire. He then proceeded to show me
other rarities; for this closet appeared to be the receptacle of
what he considered most valuable in his collection.