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 me forget that I was a Man. If Riches could free a Man from Death, what Treasures cou'd I offer, were I unwilling to die? But I resign my Breath in Quietness, and my immortal Part thirsts after new Happiness. The Thoughts of certain Death made me study to die well; and that my latest Hours should not be full of Horror and Remorse, all my worldly Goods I give to you, who will, I hope, rightly use them. Care and Disquiet attends the Abuse of them, whilst Men look upon those Things which are, at best, but convenient, and often superfluous, as necessary.

More he would have said, but his Strength fail'd him; and, to my inexpressible Grief, he gave up the Ghost. He now lies buried in one End of this Cave in a Tomb, which I took Care to, adorn, that being the only Way by which I could profess mine Esteem for so indulgent and so kind a Master.

When Sactuff had made an End of Speaking, we requested of him to shew us some of his Rarieties, especially the Philosophers Stone, of which I had heard so much before, with but little Certainty. He consented, and first produc'd the Colour subsisting without a Body: It was a pale Red, suspended, I know not how, in a little Box; it touched no Part of the Box, neither could it be felt, or easily removed.

When we had wondered a while at this, he shew'd us the Philosopher's Stone. It was a little Piece of compounded Earth, somewhat resembling a Man: It was improperly call'd a Stone, and had that Name on Account of its Insensibility. Its Arms were extended, and its Paws were ready to grasp at any Thing: Its Countenance was pale and meagre, and looked like one almost spent with over-watching, and prey'd upon by Cares. It stood upon an Heap of Gold, attended by several