“a philosopher who should go deep enough to acquire the power would attain too lofty a wisdom to stoop to the exercise of it.”  Not less singular were his opinions in regard to the elixir vitae.  He more than intimated that it was at his option to concoct a liquid that should prolong life for years, perhaps interminably; but that it would produce a discord in Nature which all the world, and chiefly the quaffer of the immortal nostrom, would find cause to curse.

“Aylmer, are you in earnest?” asked Georgiana, looking at him with amazement and fear.  “It is terrible to possess such power, or even to dream of possessing it.”

“O, do not tremble, my love!” said her husband.  “I would not wrong either you or myself by working such inharmonious effects upon our lives; but I would have you consider how trifling, in comparison, is the skill requisite to remove this little hand.”

At the mention of the birthmark, Georgiana, as usual, shrank as if a red-hot iron had touched her cheek.

Again Aylmer applied himself to his labors.  She could hear his voice in the distant furnace-room giving directions to Aminadab, whose harsh, uncouth, misshapen tones were audible in response, more like the grunt or growl of a brute than human speech.  After hours of absence, Aylmer reappeared and proposed that she should now examine his cabinet of chemical products and natural treasures of the earth.  Among the former he showed her a small vial, in which, he remarked, was contained a gentle yet most powerful fragrance, capable of impregnating all the breezes that blow across a kingdom.  They were of inestimable value, the contents of that little vial; and, as he said so, he threw some of the perfume into the air and filled the room with piercing and invigorating delight.

“And what is this?” asked Georgiana, pointing to a small crystal globe containing a gold-colored liquid.  “It is so beautiful to the eye that I could imagine it the elixir of life.”

“In one sense it is,” replied Aylmer; “or rather, the elixir of immortality.  It is the most precious poison that ever was concocted in this world.  By its aid I could apportion the lifetime of any mortal at whom you might point your finger.  The strength of the dose would determine whether he were to linger out years, or drop dead in the midst of a breath.  No king on his guarded throne could keep his life if I, in my private station, should deem that the welfare of millions justified me in depriving him of it.”

“Why do you keep such a terrific drug?” inquired Georgiana in horror.

“Do not mistrust me, dearest,” said her husband, smiling; “its virtuous potency is yet greater than its harmful one.  But see! here is a powerful cosmetic.  With a few drops of this in a vase of water, freckles may be washed away as easily as the hands are cleansed.  A stronger infusion would take the blood out of the cheek, and leave the rosiest beauty a pale ghost.”