obliged to give up the
ghost when the effect of this small quantity had passed away.

This belief in the supernatural power of the philosopher's stone to
prolong life and heal diseases was probably a later phase of alchemy,
possibly developed by attempts to connect the power of the mysterious
essence with Biblical teachings. The early Roman alchemists, who claimed
to be able to transmute metals, seem not to have made other claims for
their magic stone.

By the fifteenth century the belief in the philosopher's stone had
become so fixed that governments began to be alarmed lest some lucky
possessor of the secret should flood the country with gold, thus
rendering the existing coin of little value. Some little consolation was
found in the thought that in case all the baser metals were converted
into gold iron would then become the "precious metal," and would remain
so until some new philosopher's stone was found to convert gold back
into iron--a much more difficult feat, it was thought. However, to be on
the safe side, the English Parliament, in 1404, saw fit to pass an act
declaring the making of gold and silver to be a felony. Nevertheless, in
1455, King Henry VI. granted permission to several "knights, citizens of
London, chemists, and monks" to find the philosopher's stone, or elixir,
that the crown might thus be enabled to pay off its debts. The monks
and ecclesiastics were supposed to be most likely to discover the secret
process, since "they were such good artists in transubstantiating bread
and wine."

In Germany the emperors Maximilian I., Rudolf II., and Frederick II.
gave considerable attention to the search, and the example they set was
followed by thousands of their subjects. It is said that some noblemen
developed the unpleasant custom of inviting to their courts men who
were reputed to have found the stone, and then imprisoning the poor
alchemists until they had made a certain quantity of gold, stimulating
their activity with tortures of the most atrocious kinds. Thus this
danger of being imprisoned and held for ransom until some fabulous
amount of gold should be made became the constant menace of the
alchemist. It was useless for an alchemist to plead poverty once it was
noised about that he had learned the secret. For how could such a man
be poor when, with a piece of metal and a few grains of magic powder,
he was able to provide himself with gold? It was, therefore, a reckless
alchemist indeed who dare