A letter is preserved, addressed to one of these solitaries by the superior of his order, full of admirable hygienic advice; bidding him go from his book to praying, and so back again, for variety's sake, and when he was weary of both to stroll about his garden and observe the honey bees.

It is to this day my own system.

You must often have remarked me leaving the "Pharmacopoeia"-- often even in the middle of a phrase--to come forth into the sun and air.

I admire the writer of that letter from my heart; he was a man of thought on the most important subjects.

But, indeed, had I lived in the Middle Ages (I am heartily glad that I did not) I should have been an eremite myself--if I had not been a professed buffoon, that is.