sent day they are gastronomes, and it is a
step in the right direction. I by no means agree with the cynical
Geoffroy, who used to say that if our modern writings are weak, it is
because literary men now drink nothing stronger than lemonade. The
present age is rich in talents, and the very number of books probably
interferes with their proper appreciation; but posterity, being more
calm and judicial, will see amongst them much to admire, just as we
ourselves have done justice to the masterpieces of Racine and Moliere,
which were received by their contemporaries with coldness.

Never has the social position of men of letters been more pleasant than
at present. They no longer live in wretched garrets; the fields of
literature are become more fertile, and even the study of the Muses has
become productive. Received on an equality in any rank of life, they no
longer wait for patronage; and to fill up their cup of happiness, good
living bestows upon them its dearest favors. Men of letters are invited
because of the good opinion men have of their talents; because their
conversation has, generally speaking, something piquant in it, and also
because now every dinner-party must as a matter of course have its
literary man.

Those gentlemen always arrive a little late, but are welcomed, because
expected. They are treated as favorites so that they may come again, and
regaled that they may shine; and as they find all this very natural, by
being accustomed to it they become, are, and remain gastronomes.

Finally, amongst the most faithful in the ranks of gastronomy we must
reckon many of the devout--i.e., those spoken of by Louis XIV. and
Moliere, whose religion consists in outward show;--nothing to do with
those who are really pious and charitable.

Let us consider how this comes about. Of those who wish to secure their
salvation, the greater number try to find the most pleasant road. Men
who flee from society, sleep on the ground, and wear hair-cloth next the
skin, have always been, and must ever be, exceptions. Now there are
certain things unquestionably to be condemned, and on no account to be
indulged in--as balls, theatres, gambling, and other similar amusements;
and whilst they and all that practice them are to be hated, good living
presents itself insinuatingly in a thoroughly orthodox guise.

By right divine, man is king of nature, and all that the earth produces
was created for him. It is for him that the quail is fatten