stood, after having explained the nature of the affair, he must either redress the mistake by receiving back the ten pistoles, or give him the usual satisfaction of men of honour for an avowed affront." The marquis acknowledged his error, took back his money, and returned to Paris with less anxiety about his subsistence.

'Your readers, Mr. Fitz-Adam, may learn from this story, that all our fashions are not borrowed from France. Yours, &c. A. Z.

'HONOURED SIR,

'This is to acquaint you that I am a gentleman's servant, and that I have read the letter upon servants, signed O. S. in the World of the 21st of February last and though I admit the charge brought against us in that letter to be true, namely, that those who have nothing to give may go whistle for a clean plate or a glass of wine; yet do I not agree that a poor poet (for I am sure he must be a poet that wrote that letter; if he had been a gentleman, he would have done as gentlemen do); I say, that I do not agree that a poor poet has any right to abuse those that are his betters. A good servant, and one who knows his business, will endeavour all he can to keep low people from intruding at his master's table: and yet so far are many of us from holding poets in contempt, that they are always welcome to dinner in the hall with the best of us, and have free leave to read their verses, or sing their songs, for the enter¬ tainment of the company.

'If this same Mr. O. S. had been a philosopher or a man of deep learning, he might have had some sort of reason to find fault; for it is not to be denied that we are a little apt to overlook such sort of gentry; but not so much because they have nothing to give, as from an absence of mind which we con

stantly observe in these philosophers and men of deep learning, who if they ask for bread, beer, or wine, are as well contented with oil, vinegar, or mustard, or any thing else that happens to be readiest at hand.

'I beg pardon for troubling you with this letter, which is only to set these matters in a clear light, and to request that you will publish no more papers about servants, but let things go on in their old way; and in so doing you will oblige us all in general, and in particular, honoured Sir,

Your dutiful servant to command,

I. K.'

As I am desirous of being a peace-maker upon all occasions, I shall comply with the request of this correspondent, and conclude my paper with a hint to all gentlemen in livery, that as poets, philosophers, and men of learning, will be sometimes intruders at their masters' tables, let them consider them as brethren, and treat them with humanity.

N° 70. THURSDAY, MAY 2, 1754.

'SIR,

Ψυχῆς Ἰατρεῖον.

'To Mr. FITZ-ADAM.

"YOUR correspondent in your sixty-third paper has, I must confess, shewn no less ingenuity than the Duke de Vivonne did wit in his celebrated answer to Lewis the Fourteenth, upon that king's asking him at table, Mais à quoi sert de lire? La lecture, said the duke, fait à l'esprit ce que vos perdrix font à mes joies. But whatever new doctrines these gentlemen are

pleased to broach, that books are the food of the mind I must beg leave to say, that they have from time immemorial been called physic, not food: and for this I appeal to the famous inscription on the Alexandrian library, which I have placed at the head of my letter," physic for the soul."

For my own part, I can truly say, that I have considered all books as physic from my earliest youth; and so indeed have most of my schoolfellows and acquaintance, and nauseated them accordingly nor can any of us at this time endure the sight or touch of them, not even a present from the author, unless it be as thoroughly gilt as the most loathsome pill, or qualified and made palatable by the syrup of a dedication.

'Those who have endeavoured to conquer this disgust, have given the most forcible proofs of the truth of my argument: many of them by venturing to prescribe to themselves, have so injudiciously taken their potions, that their minds have been thrown into various ill habits and disorders. Some have fallen into so lax a state, that they could neither digest nor keep any thing whatsoever. Nay, I have been acquainted with such as have taken the most innocent and salutary of these medicines, but by over-dosing themselves, and making up no allowances for their own corrupt and acrimonious humours, have fallen into the most violent agitations, discharging such a quantity of undigested and virulent matter, that they have poisoned the neighbourhood round. Some, only upon taking the quantity of a few pages, have stared, raved, foamed at the mouth, and discovered all the symptoms of madness; while the very same dose has had the contrary effect upon others, operating only as an opiate.

The true and genuine food of the mind is News.

That this is incontestable appears from the number

of souls in this metropolis who subsist entirely upon this diet, without the least addition of any other nourishment whatsoever. In all ages and countries the poets have constantly described the avidity with which it is taken by the figurative expressions of eating or drinking. Shakspeare uses a more general term:

With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news.

Another witty author calls news the manna of the day: alluding to that food with which the Israelites were supplied in the wilderness from day to day, and which in a very little time became stale and corrupt: as indeed Providence has in its wisdom ordained that all kinds of sustenance shall be in their nature corruptible, to remind man continually of the dependency of his state on earth. Whereas physic (particularly of the modern chemical preparation) preserves its efficacy and virtues uncorrupted and unimpaired by time; a property it has in common with books; which never suffer by age, provided they are originally well composed, and of good ingredients. The principal of these ingredients are generally thought to be wit; and I fancy, Mr. Fitz-Adam, by the quantity of it with which you now and then season your speculations, that you have adopted that opinion. But let me tell you, Sir, that though my supposition should be true, you are in the wrong to rely upon it too much; for though this seasoning should happen to preserve them for the admiration of future times, it is certainly your business to accommodate yourself to the taste of the present. If therefore you would make sure of customers, give us news; for which there is as constant a demand as for daily bread: and as for your wit, which is a luxury, treat it as the Dutch do their spices: burn half of it, and you may possibly render the remaining half

of some value. But if you produce all you have for the market, you will soon find it become a mere drug, and bear no price. I am,

Your friend and well-wisher, A. B.'

I have published this letter just as I received it: and as a proof that my correspondent is not singular in his opinion of wit, I must observe that the sagacious author of the late excellent abridgment of the history of France expresses a doubt that the present age may depreciate wit, as the last exploded learning. Prenons garde que le 18me siècle ne decrie l'esprit, comme le 17me avoit decrie l'erudition."

The sixteenth century produced the greatest number of men of the most profound erudition: and notwithstanding those of the seventeenth despised them for their laborious application, it is evident that it was owing to those labours that their successors at-' tained knowledge with so much ease.

Towards the end of the last century, some possessed, and many affected, a pure taste in literature; and setting up for a standard the writings of the ancients, very liberally rewarded those who imitated them the nearest in chastity of composition. But no sooner had Monsieur Galland translated the Arabian Tales, than the whole French nation ran mad, and would never after read any thing but wretched imitations of their most wild extravagances; for it ought to be observed, that some of those original stories contain useful morals and well-drawn pictures from common life and it may be to those stories, perhaps, that we owe that species of writing which is at once so entertaining and instructive; and in which a very eminent wit, to the honour of this nation, has shewn himself so incomparably superior in drawing natural characters. But these were not the parts which had the fortune to please: the enchant ments, the monsters and transformations engaged all