water and digest for some time; distil them, and you will have an odorous lotion whose effects are marvellous."
The Librarian.—Those old writers don't hesitate at promises. But is this the Dr. de Blegny who was court physician to Louis XIV.?
We.—The same.
The Librarian.—And who delivered a course of lectures on perukes and wig-making to the barber boys of Paris?
We.—What if he did? Don't you know that the French academicians consecrate fifteen folio pages of the Encyclopédie to the same important subject?
The Librarian.—And who finally was imprisoned for seven years for some slippery transaction at court?
Portia.—If the imprisonment is against him, I am afraid many an honest man must suffer in reputation with him.
The Librarian.—Well, I won't throw any more stones at poor de Blegny. We might expect Frenchmen to busy themselves with such topics. Somebody calls them a nation of perruquiers. But the solid Germans you don't find given to such vanities.
We.—No? Let us see. This stout volume is the Bibliotheca Medico-chirurgica. It contains a list of all the medical books printed in Germany from 1750 to 1847. We'll turn to the word Kosmetik in the
