Spain | Page 9

off his mind; however, he took the precaution of having
himself blooded.
I spent an extremely pleasant four months at Augsburg, supping twice
or thrice a week at Count Lamberg's. At these suppers I made the
acquaintance of a very remarkable man--Count Thura and Valsamina,
then a page in the prince-bishop's household, now Dean of Ratisbon.
He was always at the count's, as was also Dr. Algardi, of Bologna, the
prince's physician and a delightful man.
I often saw at the same house a certain Baron Sellenthin, a Prussian
officer, who was always recruiting for his master at Augsburg. He was
a pleasant man, somewhat in the Gascon style, soft-spoken, and an
expert gamester. Five or six years ago I had a letter from him dated
Dresden, in which he said that though he was old, and had married a
rich wife, he repented of having married at all. I should say the same if
I had ever chanced to marry.
During my stay at Augsburg several Poles, who had left their country
on account of the troubles, came to see me. Amongst others was
Rzewuski, the royal Prothonotary, whom I had known at St. Petersburg
as the lover of poor Madame Langlade.
"What a diet! What plots! What counterplots! What misfortunes!" said
this honest Pole, to me. "Happy are they who have nothing to do with
it!"

He was going to Spa, and he assured me that if I followed him I should
find Prince Adam's sister, Tomatis, and Madame Catai, who had
become the manager's wife. I determined to go to Spa, and to take
measures so that I might go there with three or four hundred ducats in
my purse. To this intent I wrote to Prince Charles of Courland, who
was at Venice, to send me a hundred ducats, and in my letter I gave him
an infallible receipt for the philosopher's stone. The letter containing
this vast secret was not in cypher, so I advised him to burn it after he
had read it, assuring him that I possessed a copy. He did not do so, and
it was taken to Paris with his order papers when he was sent to the
Bastile.
If it had not been for the Revolution my letter would never have seen
the light. When the Bastille was destroyed, my letter was found and
printed with other curious compositions, which were afterwards
translated into German and English. The ignorant fools that abound in
the land where my fate wills that I should write down the chief events
of my long and troublous life--these fools, I say, who are naturally my
sworn foes (for the ass lies not down with the horse), make this letter
an article of accusation against me, and think they can stop my mouth
by telling me that the letter has been translated into German, and
remains to my eternal shame. The ignorant Bohemians are astonished
when I tell them that I regard the letter as redounding to my glory, and
that if their ears were not quite so long their blame would be turned into
praise.
I do not know whether my letter has been correctly translated, but since
it has become public property I shall set it down here in homage to
truth, the only god I adore. I have before me an exact copy of the
original written in Augsburg in the year 1767, and we are now in the
year 1798.
It runs as follows:
"MY LORD,--I hope your highness will either burn this letter after
reading it, or else preserve it with the greatest care. It will be better,
however, to make a copy in cypher, and to burn the original. My
attachment to you is not my only motive in writing; I confess my

interest is equally concerned. Allow me to say that I do not wish your
highness to esteem me alone for any qualities you may have observed
in me; I wish you to become my debtor by the inestimable secret I am
going to confide to you. This secret relates to the making of gold, the
only thing of which your highness stands in need. If you had been
miserly by nature you would be rich now; but you are generous, and
will be poor all your days if you do not make use of my secret.
"Your highness told me at Riga that you would like me to give you the
secret by which I transmuted iron into copper; I never did so, but now I
shall teach you how to make a much more marvellous transmutation. I
should point out to you, however, that you are not at present in a
suitable place for the operation, although all the materials are easily
procurable. The operation necessitates my presence