LETTER XLV. Rica to Usbek, at * * *.

AS I was in bed, yesterday morning, I heard a violent rapping at my door, which was soon opened, or rather forced open, by a man with whom I had made some acquaintance, and who seemed to me to be beside himself. His dress was far from being decent, his peruke, all awry, had not been so much as combed; he had not had leisure to get his black waistcoat mended; and, for this time, had neglected those wise precautions with which he was used to conceal the tattered condition of his dress. “Get up, says he to me, I have business with you all day; I have a thousand implements to buy, and should be glad to have you with me. We must go first to the street St. Honoré, to speak to a notary, who is commissioned to sell an estate of five hundred thousand livres, and I am willing he should give me the preference. As I came here, I stopt a moment in the suburbs of St. Germain, where I have hired a house for two thousand crowns, and hope to execute the contract to-day.” As soon as I was drest, or pretty near so, my gentleman made me hastily go out with him. “Let us, said he, first buy a coach, and settle our equipage.” Indeed we bought not only the coach, but also an hundred thousand livres worth of goods, in less than an hour; all this was done presently, for my gentleman haggled about nothing, paid no money, nor was he ever out of his way. I

reflected upon all this, and when I examined my gentleman, I found in him so strange a mixture of riches and poverty, that I knew not what to think. But at last I broke, silence, and taking him on one side, I said to him, “Sir, who is to pay for all these things?” “Myself, says he; come to my chamber, I will shew you immense treasures, and riches that might excite the envy of the greatest monarchs, but not yours, who shall always share them with me.” I followed him; we clambered up to his fifth floor, and by a ladder hoisted ourselves to the sixth, which was a closet, open to the four winds, in which there was nothing but two or three dozen of earthen basins, filled with different liquors. “I got up early, says he, and, as I have done these five and twenty years, went immediately to visit my work; I saw that the great day was come which was to render me the richest man upon earth. Do you see this fine red liquor? It hath now all those qualities which the philosophers require to make a transmutation of metals. I have gathered these grains which you see, which are true gold by their colour, though a little imperfect as to their weight. This secret, which Nichola’s Flammel found out, but Raymond Lully, and a million of others, have been always seeking after, is at length come to me, and I this day find myself an happy adept. May heaven grant that I may never make use of the treasures it hath bestowed upon me but to its glory!” I left him, and came, or rather tumbled down the ladder, transported with anger, and left this very rich man in his hospital.—Farewel, my dear Usbek, I will come and see you to morrow, and if you please we will return together to Paris.

Paris, the last day of the moon Rhegeb,
1715.