The most extraordinary remuneration was that received by Levett, Dr. Johnson's friend and frequent companion. It was observed of him that he was the only man who ever became intoxicated from motives of prudence. His patients, knowing his irregular habits, used frequently to substitute a glass of spirits for a fee; and Levett reflected that if he did not accept the gin or brandy offered to him, he could have been no gainer by their cure, as they most probably had nothing else to give him. Dr. Johnson says "that this habit of taking a fee in whatever shape it was exhibited, could not be put off by advice or admonition of any kind. He would swallow what he did not like, nay, what he knew would injure him, rather than go home with an idea that his skill had been exerted without recompence; and had his patients," continues Johnson, "maliciously combined to reward him with meat and strong liquors, instead of money, he would either have burst, like the dragon in the Apocrypha, through repletion, or been scorched up, like Portia, by swallowing fire." But though this worthy was thus rapacious, he never demanded any thing from the poor, and was remarked for his charitable conduct towards them. Various professional persons have sometimes endeavoured to remunerate their medical attendants by reciprocal services: thus an opera-dancer offered to give lessons to a physician's daughters for their father's attendance upon him; and a dentist has been known to propose to take care of the jaws of a whole family to liquidate his wine bill. One of the wealthiest merchants of Bordeaux wanted to reduce the price of a drawing-master's lessons, on the score of his taking his children's daubs with him to sell them _on account_. This arrangement, however, did not suit the indignant artist, who left the Croesus in disgust. A singular charge for medical attendance was lately brought before the court of requests of Calcutta, by a native practitioner. He demanded 314 rupees for medicine alone, and in the items of drugs appeared pearls, gold leaf, and monkeys' navels! In one of the old French farces there is an absurd scene between Harlequin and his physician. The motley hero had been cured, but refused to remunerate his Esculapius, who brought an action for his fees, when Harlequin declares to the judge that he would rather be sick again; and he therefore offers to return his health to the doctor, provided he would give him back his ailments, that each party might thus recover their own property. This incident was perhaps founded on an ancient opinion of Hippocrates, who frequently mentioned salutary diseases. In 1729, a Dr. Villars supported a thesis on this subject, entitled "_Dantur-ne morbi salutares?_" and Theodore Van Ween has also written a learned dissertation on the same subject.