en witnessed, he
designed to write a piece of nonsense. He was only embarrassed by the
choice of subject. Politics, Morals, and Literature, were equally the
same to me: but I found, strange to say, all these matters pre-occupied
by persons who seem to have laboured with the same view. I found silly
things in all kinds, and I saw myself under the necessity of adopting
the reasonable ones to become singular; so that I do not yet despair
that we may one day discover truth, when we shall have exhausted all
our errors.

"I first proposed to write down all erudition, to show the freedom and
independence of genius, whose fertility is such as not to require
borrowing anything from foreign sources; but I observed that this had
sunk into a mere commonplace, trite and trivial, invented by indolence,
adopted by ignorance, and which adds nothing to genius,

"Mathematics, which has succeeded to erudition, begins to be
unfashionable; we know at present indeed that one may be as great a
dizzard in resolving a problem as in restoring a reading. Everything is
compatible with genius, but nothing can give it.

"For the _bel esprit_, so much envied, so much sought after, it is
almost as ridiculous to pretend to it, as it is difficult to attain.
Thus the scholar is contemned, the mathematician tires, the man of wit
and genius is hissed. What is to be done?"

Having told the whimsical origin of this tale, Du Clos continues: "I do
not know, my dear Public, if you will approve of my design; however, it
appears to me ridiculous enough to deserve your favour; for, to speak to
you like a friend, you appear to unite all the stages of human life,
only to experience all their cross-accidents. You are a child to run
after trifles; a youth when driven by your passions; and, in mature age,
you conclude you are wise, because your follies are of a more solemn
nature, for you grow old only to dote; to talk at random, to act without
design, and to believe you judge, because you pronounce sentence.

"I respect you greatly; I esteem you but little; you are not worthy of
being loved. These are my sentiments respecting you; if you insist on
others from me, in that case,

"I am,
"Your most humble and obedient servant."

The caustic pleasantry of this "Epistle Dedicatory" was considered by
some mawkish critics so offensive, that when the editor of the "Cabinet
de Fees," a vast collection of fairy tales, republished this little
playfu