“Thou believest then, my brother,” said Eleanora, in her gentlest tone, “in a power whose existence thou canst not demonstrate by thy ‘Tables’ or diograms?”
“Verily, such a power is a matter of necessity,” returned the monarch.
“And thy unlearned sister,” replied the queen, hesitating, “finds the same necessity to believe in a God, whose existence she can demonstrate only by the contemplation of his glorious works.”
“It is well for the ignorant to repose in this idea,” replied Alphonso, “and it may perchance restrain the wicked from his misdeeds, to believe that an ever-present Intelligence regards his actions.”
“And it may comfort the sorrowing,” said Eleanora, “to feel that this Infinite Power can satisfy the needs of the human soul.”
“Hast thou brought the metal I gave thee?” said Alphonso, abruptly changing the conversation.
“I have it in my gypsire,” said she, unclasping the bag and unfolding the paper—“Lo! my brother, what a transformation is here,” exclaimed the queen, in amazement. “Thy silver has again become ashes.”
“Grieve not,” said the alchemist, with an air of superior wisdom, “Science will achieve new wonders with these dull atoms.”
He now placed the powder in the crucible as before, and taking from a shelf what seemed a fragment of rock, pulverized it to a like powder, and mingled both in the crucible, which he placed upon the brazier and subjected it to a most intense heat.
“What dost thou now observe?” said the alchemist.