1828.] Friar Bacon's Key. 159 
ice ceases to be ice at the pole, and are even beginning to doubt 
shrewdly, whether you have souls; thus voluntarily abasing yourself 
from your high ranks, as things of immortal life, to the level of the brute 
beast—but let that pass, it concerns me not—and let me tell you in what 
consists the real value of that seemingly so worthless piece of iron.” 
“ You would oblige me,” I replied, “ beyond measure. I am all 
impatience to hear the secret; and, as to the matter of belief, you will 
not, I fancy, find me a very hard customer, provided your goods wear 
any thing like the market stamp upon them.” 
* But it is strange,” said my guest, in that low, emphatic tone, which 
strikes with such miraculous distinctness on the tympanum of an eager 
listener, “ It is strange, beyond the strangest wonder, that science or 
history has yet recorded.” 
I was ready to burst with curiosity ! 
« This little piece of green rusty iron,” he went on, “ that, to judge 
from outward appearance, is hardly worth the trouble of picking from 
the ground, is—” 
He paused again, and sipped his wine. In my heart I wished the 
port could be changed to salt and water ; but I took care not to offend 
him by communicating this opinion. 
“ This key—and there are others, though not many, like it—commands 
the entrance to the central gardens of the earth; for this world is not 
quite what philosophers in their conceit have imagined it to be. If you 
have the courage to dare so far, in one hour you may be where gold 
and diamonds grow as thickly, aye, ten times more thickly, than the 
daisies in a summer meadow.” 
* Here he paused again, with a look that seemed to say—“ Do you 
believe me?” and for my part I did not see any occasion to tell him it 
was a lie; it would not have been polite to one who carried, as he did, a 
stout oak cudgel, and looked as if he knew how to use it. So I contented 
myself with observing—“ If this story be true—and I don’t take upon 
myself to say it is not—there must be some deviltry at the bottom of it— 
some old signing of bonds in one’s own blood—conveying a soul or so 
over to the old gentleman in black.” 
“ You area fool,” replied my guest, tartly ; “ nothing more is required 
to the great end than courage to gain, and industry to gather. If you 
have these, you have all, and nothing will be demanded of you in 
return, though you should carry off a cart-load of treasure.” 
« But, my worthy counsellor in the art diabolic—for I must yet affirm, 
in spite of all you say, this has a strong relish of diabolus in it—” 
“T tell you, no!” interrupted my guest, vehemently. 
“ Don’t be angry for the matter,” I said, “ it isnot worth it. But you 
must yourself own, that, if this key were the key of Paradise, it would 
be of marvellous litttle use to me, unless I knew where to find the gate it 
was intended to open.” 
~ © You speak well,” he replied, pushing aside his glass, and taking out 
his watch. “ The very time! day has just began there——Follow me.” 
“ You forget our account here—let us ring for the waiter first.” 
“ Tt is not needed ; he is paid already.” 
© Tf that be the case, there is nothing more to be said ; and I am at 
your service.” 
And off we set, arm-in-arm, diving through sundry blind alleys and 
crooked lanes, conspicuous alike for dirt and ragged children, till we at 
