lady is in her dotage.'

"'You gave her an elixir, surprising for the effects it produced; for she
says, that during a length of time, she only appeared to be eighty-four;
the age at which she took it. Why don't you give it to the king?'

"'Oh, madam,' he exclaimed, 'the physicians would have me broken on the
wheel, were I to think of drugging his majesty.'"

When the world begins to believe extraordinary things of an individual,
there is no telling where its extravagance will stop. People, when once
they have taken the start, vie with each other who shall believe most. At
this period all Paris resounded with the wonderful adventures of the Count
de St. Germain; and a company of waggish young men tried the following
experiment upon its credulity: A clever mimic, who, on account of the
amusement he afforded, was admitted into good society, was taken by them,
dressed as the Count de St. Germain, into several houses in the Rue du
Marais. He imitated the count's peculiarities admirably, and found his
auditors open-mouthed to believe any absurdity he chose to utter. No
fiction was too monstrous for their all-devouring credulity. He spoke of
the Saviour of the world in terms of the greatest familiarity; said he had
supped with him at the marriage in Canaan of Galilee, where the water was
miraculously turned into wine. In fact, he said he was an intimate friend
of his, and had often warned him to be less romantic and imprudent, or he
would finish his career miserably. This infamous blasphemy, strange to
say, found believers; and ere three days had elapsed, it was currently
reported that St. Germain was born soon after the deluge, and that he
would never die!

St. Germain himself was too much a man of the world to assert any thing so
monstrous; but he took no pains to contradict the story. In all his
conversations with persons of rank and education, he advanced his claims
modestly, and as if by mere inadvertency, and seldom pretended to a
longevity beyond three hundred years, except when he found he was in
company with persons who would believe any thing. He often spoke of Henry
VIII. as if he had known him intimately, and of the Emperor Charles V. as
if that monarch had delighted in his society. He would describe
conversations which took place with such an apparent truthfulness, and be
so exceedingly minute and particular as to the dress and appearance of the
individuals, and even the weather at the time and the furniture o