Convinced, says one of his biographers, that the Spirit of God had not inspired him with the Celestial Science to let it rest idle, and that he would be betraying his vocation if his light were hidden under a bushel, he resolved to journey to Paris and there publish the eternal truths which had been revealed to him. Others have supposed that in undertaking this journey he was simply seeking instruction in the Latin tongue at one of the centres of learning. Several of his treatises on Philosophy, Theology, Medicine, and Astronomy are, however, referred to this period, as well as some works on alchemy, but this point will receive adequate consideration hereafter. Still imbued with his evangelistic and missionary zeal, he engaged a young Arab as his valet, that he might perfect himself in colloquial Arabic; but he, discovering that his master intended to demolish the divine principles of the Koran, and preach against the holy law of Mahomet, piously resolved to assassinate him, and one day plunged a dagger into his breast. He sought to repeat the blow, but Raymond Lully, wounded and bleeding as he was, contrived to disarm him, perhaps with the assistance of a holy and opportune anchorite, who is advanced at this critical moment by one of the biographers. The young Arab was imprisoned with the reluctant consent of his over magnanimous master, who does not appear to have proceeded further against him; but the unhappy Mohammedan enthusiast was so overwhelmed with vexation at the failure of his heroic design to destroy, at all costs, the implacable foe of the prophet, that he strangled himself in his dungeon in a paroxysm of impotent fury. It was after this episode, and after the recovery of Raymond Lully from the violence of his valet, that, according to another historian, he retired to Mount Randa, and that then, and then only, he received from the Father of Lights that new illumination with which others have accredited him at a much earlier period. This was probably a second visit paid to his Balearic solitude; he tarried there seven months, “always absorbed in prayer, and conversing, as it seemed to him, continually with angels, whose consolations he received--consolations,” says the pious writer, “which the soul can indeed realise, but which the lips cannot worthily describe.”