found
the machine split quite in two, the eggs broke, and that precious
amalgamum which they contained was scattered like sand among the
ashes. Mrs. Thomas's eyes were now sufficiently opened to discern the
imposture, and, with a very serene countenance, told the empyric, that
accidents will happen, but means might be fallen upon to repair this
fatal disappointment. The Dr. observing her so serene, imagined
she would grant him more money to compleat his scheme, but she soon
disappointed his expectation, by ordering him to be gone, and made
him a present of five guineas, left his desperate circumstances should
induce him to take some violent means of providing for himself.

Whether deluded by a real hope of finding out the Philosopher's Stone,
or from an innate principle of villainy, cannot be determined, but he
did not yet cease his pursuit, and still indulged the golden delusion.
He now found means to work upon the credulity of an old miser,
who, upon the strength of his pretensions, gave him his daughter
in marriage, and embarked all his hoarded treasure, which was very
considerable, in the same chimerical adventure. In a word, the miser's
stock was also lost, the empyric himself, and the daughter reduced to
beggary. This unhappy affair broke the miser's heart, who did not many
weeks survive the loss of his cash. The Dr. also put a miserable
end to his life by drinking poison, and left his wife with two young
children in a state of beggary. But to return to Mrs. Thomas.

The poor lady suffered on this occasion a great deal of inward
anguish; she was ashamed of having reduced her fortune, and
impoverished her child by listening to the insinuations of a madman.
Time and patience at last overcame it; and when her health, which by
this accident had been impaired, was restored to her, she began
to stir amongst her husband's great clients. She took a house in
Bloomsbury, and by means of good economy, and an elegant appearance,
was supposed to be better in the world than she really was. Her
husband's clients received her like one risen from the dead: They came
to visit her, and promised to serve her. At last the duke of Montague
advised her to let lodgings, which way of life she declined, as her
talents were not suited for dealing with ordinary lodgers; but added
she, 'if I knew any family who desired such a conveniency, I would
readily accommodate them.' I take you at your word, replied the duke,
'I will become your sole