on in respect of
solids, it was made up by free permission to drink as much water as we
liked. Far from prescribing us any limits in that direction, he would
tell us sometimes: "Drink, my children: health consists in the
pliability and moisture of the parts. Drink water by pailfuls: it is a
universal dissolvent; water liquefies all the salts. Is the course of
the blood a little sluggish? this grand principle sets it forward: too
rapid? its career is checked." Our doctor was so orthodox on this head
that the advanced in years, he drank nothing himself but water. He
defined old age to be a natural consumption which dries us up and
wastes us away: on this principle he deplored the ignorance of those
who call wine "old men's milk." He maintained that wine wears them out
and corrodes them; and pleaded with all the force of his eloquence
against that liquor, fatal in common both to the young and old--that
friend with a serpent in its bosom--that pleasure with a dagger under
its girdle.

In spite of these fine arguments, at the end of a week a looseness
ensued, with some twinges, which I was blasphemous enough to saddle on
the universal dissolvent and the new-fangled diet. I stated my
symptoms to my master, in the hope that he would relax the rigor of
his regimen and qualify my meals with a little wine; but his hostility
to that liquor was inflexible. "If you have not philosophy enough,"
said he, "for pure water, there are innocent infusions to strengthen
the stomach against the nausea of aqueous quaffings. Sage, for
example, has a very pretty flavor; and if you wish to heighten it into
a debauch, it is only mixing rosemary, wild poppy, and other simples
with it--but no compounds."

In vain did he crack off his water, and teach me the secret of
composing delicious messes. I was so abstemious that, remarking my
moderation, he said: "In good sooth, Gil Bias, I marvel not that you
are no better than you are: you do not drink enough, my friend. Water
taken in a small quantity serves only to separate the particles of
bile and set them in action; but our practise is to drown them in a
copious drench. Fear not, my good lad, lest a superabundance of liquid
should either weaken or chill your stomach; far from thy better
judgment be that silly fear of unadulterated drink. I will insure you
against all consequences; and if my authority will not serve your
turn, read Celsus. That oracle of the ancient makes an admirable
panegyric on wa