, 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 alleged 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 more of his life. He was now growing both old and poor; for he was
sixty-two years of age, and had been obliged to sell a great portion of
his patrimony to provide for his expenses. His journey to Persia had cost
upwards of thirteen thousand crowns, about one-half of which had been
fairly melted in his all-devouring furnaces; the other half was lavished
upon the sycophants that he made it his business to search out in every
town he stopped at.

On his return to Treves he found, to his sorrow, that, if not an actual
beggar, he was not much better. His relatives looked upon him as a madman,
and refused even to see him. Too proud to ask for favours from any one,
and still confident that, some day or other, he would be the possessor of
unbounded wealth, he made up his mind to retire to the island of Rhodes,
where he might, in the mean time, hide his poverty from the eyes of the
world. Here he might have lived unknown and happy; but, as ill luck would
ha