The realization of these unnatural powers constituted the dream of Felix, and for this he had devoted his hours to magic in his solitary study, which, to the view of a stranger, would have much resembled the operating room of an industrious philosopher. Old, musty, and neglected volumes, bearing ample evidence that they had undergone the vicissitudes of many years, and suffered treatment too barbarous to be entirely ascribed to the hands of studious and inquisitive man, were piled promiscuously upon the shelves. Scarcely one of them could boast an entire cover, and their black letter and roughly ornamented pages presented a bold contrast to the volumes of the present day. Around the room were seen numerous instruments, with now and then some strange apparatus--things for which science had but few names, and common parlance was a total blank. In one corner your eye met nothing but crucibles, mortars, urns, pots, kettles, and cans; in another, you beheld a variety of jugs, decanters, bottles, and vials; whilst others contained a mass as indescribable as it was nameless. All, too, bore testimony of having been frequently used, and emitted a repulsive scent, sufficiently exhibiting that it required no very refined sense of smell to detest the pursuit of an alchemist. The rules of neatness and arrangement, however, were not neglected in all this confusion. In the centre of the room a large circle was drawn, whilst the walls were totally covered with odd signs, strange figures, and mystic devices. Here it was that the magician employed his charms, and conjured up his spells, and here the alchemist pursued his intricate investigations. Here Felix had applied himself, with a devotion worthy of the greatest commendation, to realize, by magic and alchemistic means, the dreams of those deluded Germans whose fantastic theories, for so long a time, had run away with the reason and good sense of their native contemporaries, and eventually worked similar results in different sections of the world. He longed to verify the fancies of Rosencreutz, which had set many a man’s “wits a wool-gathering,” and made strange fools of some of the cleverest, but too credulous, fellows of all Europe and elsewhere. How happy he would have been in having been brought into closer communion with his Maker, or made the companion of noble spirits to whose wisdom he could have given the impress of utility, and thus eventually succeeded in driving pain, disease, and sorrow from the world! Had not the noted Dr. Torralba a magic Zequiel, apparently unlimited in power, to accompany him as his pledged and faithful friend, and had not Naude’s “zenith and rising sun of all the Alchymists,” the skilful Paracelsus, a spirit confined in the hilt of his sword, and another imprisoned in a jewel? The famous magician, Cornelius Agrippa, whose talents are attested by the great Erasmus and the smooth and gentle Melancthon, did not only command the demons of