striven in vain to penetrate, to wit, the secret of life and the secret of wealth. Yea, not even the great Hermes Trismegistus himself was able to solve those two questions, which are, indeed, the fruition of all learning--the attainment of unfailing life and of infinite wealth. "'But even were that volume, in which lieth hidden those tremendous secrets, to fall into the hands of man at this day, who at present now liveth could read or interpret it, or could understand a single one of those mysterious sentences of his wherein lieth hidden the secrets of life and wealth? For hath not the great Geber himself said, "He who would understand must first climb the mountain of difficulty, and pluck from the blue stem the red and white blossoms?" Hath not he also said, "He must, last of all, drink the blood of the infant from the crystal cup of the king and the seraphim?" And who liveth now that could understand these words, much less accomplish that task which he hath set as a bar across the path-way of knowledge--to pluck that flower and to drink that blood?' "Such, my dear Oliver, are, as near as I can recollect, the very words of the learned Abou Ben Hassan. Conceive, if you can, their effect upon Raymond Lulli. It was as though a thunder-bolt had fallen at his feet, and as though he beheld a great truth by the flash of light that accompanied it. That volume of the wise Geber, that repository of the two great secrets of the world, had fallen into his, Raymond Lulli's, hands as though blown there by the wind of fate. "Now, at that time the most learned man in Europe, perhaps the most learned in the world, was Arnold de Villeneuve. He was the most skilful physician and the greatest scholar of his day, and was in the very height and prime of his powers. Raymond Lulli determined to apply to him for a solution of the mysteries of the little volume, and thereupon set out at once for Paris to accomplish his purpose. "Accordingly, one morning, as Arnold sat in his cabinet engrossed in his studies, there came a rap upon the door. It was the servant, who announced a stranger below. The doctor bade the servant show him in. It was Raymond Lulli, dusty and travel-stained. "As soon as the servant had quitted the room, he came close to the table at which Arnold sat, and addressed him in the grandiloquent way of the day, somewhat in this fashion: 'I have come a long and weary way, I have taken a bitter and toilsome journey to seek you, and to beseech of you to give me one little measure from your great storehouse of wisdom and learning.' So saying, he thrust his hand into his bosom and brought forth the little volume, wrapped carefully in the folds of a linen cloth. He opened it, and held it before the eyes of Arnold de Villeneuve. 'Tell me, master,' said he, 'in what language and with what characters is this little volume written?'