His dignity, which at first is offended at his being consigned to the "calash" with the femme de chambre "for a companion, he sees it better to put in his pocket; and after indulging a sulky fit for the "first half stage"-we ques tion if an Irishman had found the arrangement so faulty-he cheers up and becomes happy in the evening.

The party to which he is attached proceed southward in search of climate; and we have a lively, pleasant account of the journey, without, however, any thing very new or original. He remarks, with great truth, on the almost universal error that in England attributes a character of salubrity to the climate of Mont-Pellier, which place is deserted at once by the natives when attacked with chest disease; and the few observations which occur here are well and wisely presented. There are in reality no such mistakes current in our country as those concerning the climate of particular parts of the Continent. The most part of English writers deciding this difficult question on the experience of a summer excursion, and with little deference to the opinions of the local physicians, or any attention whatever to hospital statistics.

The patient lord becomes daily worse, and, after enduring the wellknown vicissitudes of the fell malady to which he is subject, sinks into debility and dies.

The doctor is again upon the world, and "had only to think of returning

home."

"Upon arriving at Bourdeaux, I found that a new schooner, fitted up in a superior style, had just arrived on her first trip from Southampton, whither she was again bound in a few days. I had nicked my time, and after taking a cordial leave of the family, from which I had received every kindness, I embarked on the first of May on board the Britannia. There were only three passengers besides myself. The wind was not fair, so that we dropped down slowly with the stream on a fine evening, admiring the banks of the Garonne, now rich in vegetation; for here the season was far advanced, and it seemed to be already summer. At nightfall the spires of the cathedral were still visible. I climbed the mast to take a long and last farewell of one of the finest cities in Europe. I was still young and enthusiastic, and I found myself about to

After an unsuccessful attempt to become physician to a London dispensary-the failure in which, however humorously told, we can scarcely regret, such is the plasticity of moral and manly feeling displayed by the doctor in his canvas-he establishes himself once more in town; and, by joining various learned societies and scientific bodies, endeavours, as he expresses it," to be continually before the profession." The picture is a painful one, and we should read it with increased depression, had we any, the slightest sympathy for him who endured it; but happily for us and for him, the web of his nature was not of any frail and delicate texture, and we never feared for him, and, accordingly, we were right.

"I had been suffering from a local complaint for some time-a continued relaxation and elongation of the uvula, which London air always produces with me; and I called upon Mr. ——, a surgeon in He received me with

that suavity and urbanity of manner which were always characteristic of him, and told me what to do, begging me to call upon him in a few days. I did so, and being better myself, was sorry to find him suffering from a nervous affection.

"Can you tell me what is good for nervous deafness?' he asked me in an irritated tone. I shall lose my hearing altogether; what is good for it?'

out

Remove the nervousness, and the deafness will depart,' I replied, at the same gate;' and remembering Lucretius, I continued- Lenis enim mens est et mire mobilis ipsa.' He rallied immediately.

"Oh, you have hit the mark!' he exclaimed; you know me too well already. Will you dine with me tomorrow? I have a few medical friends.'

"I bowed assent, and repaired at the usual hour, when I was introduced to the family. Fortune favours the brave; and it happened that I took an active part in the dinner conversation, my mind being stored with the topics which by chance turned up. I remember it was upon the migration of birds, a subject

which, from my intimacy with the late Dr. Leache, had interested me a great deal.

"I paid, indeed, almost daily visits at that time to the British Museum.

The day passed off gaily. I played my rubber, made another happy quotation, as I dealt

Troy owes to Homer what whist owes to Hoyle.'

and turned up a trump. The rubber finished, I made my bow, and departed.

"A few days afterwards I received a three-corned note, begging me to call at my leisure. I soon found leisure to call, and going into the room Mr. -met me, and, putting a packet of letters into my hand, told me to take them home, and read them at my convenience. If the thing will suit you-and I must apologise to you for making the application-pray let me know before tomorrow's post. I am too much engaged to talk over the matter with you at present.'

"I hurried home, as may well be imagined, to examine the contents of this packet, from which, through the influence of secret presentiment, I anticipated much good. It proved to be a request from

to engage a physician to reside five years in Paris in a nobleman's family. A carte blanche was left as to terms, and the recommendation of my friend was all that seemed required to insure me the situation. I need not say that I accepted the offer, and authorized my friend to arrange the business for me."

Five hundred per annum for five annums was not to be rejected; and I found myself once more at Dover. Upon arriving at Calais, he had some difficulty in getting his medicine chest through the custom-house, and without his doctorial title had not succeeded. This was the only time in his travels such a rank gave him any advantage. "I would recommend my colleagues to sink the doctor in travelling abroad, if they wish to be considered gentlemen. The term doctor in France is decidedly canaille.”

This is perfectly correct: no foreigner has any, the slightest notion of the position enjoyed by the English physician in his own country; nor can he be made to understand the estimation a man is held in who has access to the intimacy of the highest persons in the land, not as the mere agent to

relieve pain and suffering, but on terms of confidence and close friendship. The rate of remuneration has much more to do with this than perThe high fee of the English physician is a haps people generally suppose. guarantee for a certain amount of acquirement, education, and breeding; and there can be but little respect paid to him whose honoraire is something about the fare of a cab, and rather less than half the payment to a hairdresser. Besides, to do nothing, to have no art or metier, is the sine qua non of foreign gentility. Your count or baron, the tenth son of a poor father, would rather struggle through life how he can, depending on rouge et noir for his coat, and the friendship of an actress for his dinner, than adopt an honest calling. There is, properly speaking, no middle class on the Continent. The lawyer, the doctor, the clergy, are all drawn from the very humblest walks of life; and that peculiar rank which in England unites within itself the learning, the breeding, the polish, and the refinement of the very highest class, with the industry, energy, and enterprise of the working order, has no existence abroad;while with us no rank, however elevated-no wealth, however vast, can absolve a man from the calls which the public feel they have a right to make on his time and services. the Continent, the miserable possessor of two hundred per annum would scorn to add to his narrow fortune by any effort of his own.

On

We now pass on to the doctor's second patron:

He

"The prince was a man who lived for the day, and only thought of the morrow as able to procure him possibly more entertainment than to-day. seldom read, and if he did, it was only a pamphlet, or the last new novel by Avocat. With politics he never troubled himself, or he had, perhaps, been too much troubled by them. As regarded general literature, however, he seemed to be quite au fait; he knew the merits of most authors, and could equally point out their defects. Speak of chemistry, he seemed thoroughly acquainted with the principles of the science. Physics he had a natural talent for, and was often occupied in inventing some plan to counteract the loss in vertical motion. He was a very fair mathematician. He was an excellent

modern linguist, and could speak half a dozen languages fluently. He knew nothing of the classics. His conversation was replete with anecdote, for his memory was most retentive, and he turned every thing he heard to his own account; he made it, in fact, his own. So far from appearing to have neglected his education, he seemed, on the contrary, to have studied a great deal; and yet his whole information was derived from what he had picked up in conversation, and little from books. His social powers were great, and as he was not pedantic, but gallant and amiable in the extreme, so he was adored by the fair sex. The character drawn by Segur of the famous Potemkin would apply, in many respects, to the prince

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Personne n'avait moins lu que lui, peu de gens étaient plus instruits. Il avait causé avec des hommes habiles dans toutes les professions, dans toutes les sciences, dans tous les arts. On ne sut jamais mieux pomper et s'approprier la savoir des autres. Il aurait étonné dans une conversation un littérateur, un artiste, un artisan, et un théologien. Son instruction n'était pas profonde, mais elle était fort étendue. Il n'ap profondissait rien, mais il parlait bien de tout.'

"To return to the prince, I may observe, that his occupations were most trivial. He would rise at five o'clock, put on his robe de chambre, and sit at his table in his study till ten or eleven o'clock, A.M. During the whole of this time he was employed in sketching something upon paper, chewing the corner of his pocket-handkerchief, and taking snuff; wholly absorbed in these occupations, he hardly lifted his head from the table until he was summoned to breakfast. Then his latent faculties became free, and he would converse during the whole of this repast with his maitre d' hotel, or his cook, if he had no other company. He seldom, however, was driven to such expedients, for as his table had the first reputation, there were seldom wanting guests in the shape of cousins or nephews, or even of intimate friends. This repast, which generally lasted an hour, was always taken in the robe de chambre: and then he retired again to his cabinet, where he remained until it was time to dress himself for the more important duties of the day; such as are performed by a man with plenty of money, and without any official occupation, in the most dissipated city in Europe. promenade with the Duchess of or the Countess of —, perhaps it was in paying court to the king, or more

It was a

"I first met with Dr. Gall at a patient's breakfast table. He was busily employed in eating dried salmon, for which his organs of taste seemed to have been particularly created. His first expression startled me a little, and the more so as it was in a hotel in the Faubourg St. Germain.

"Tout ce qui est ultra est bête,' said the doctor, as he was criticising the conduct of one of his patients, who, not having attended to the doctor's injunctions, was suffering for his disobe. dience by confinement to bed.

"Permettez moi de vous presenter le Médecin de mon frère,' said the lady of the house, interrupting him, 'c'est un Anglais.'

"The doctor rose and bowed in honour of my country. Several common-place phrases were interchanged between us, but nothing which passed denoted any thing extraordinary in the mental endowments of the phrenologist. Still as I gazed upon his brow, I seemed to see indelibly imprinted the iron character of his soul; the stern, unyielding physiognomy, which scarce allowed a smile to play upon it. His countenance was one, however, expressive of great intellect; for thus far we will go, but no farther, that the head is the mansion of the mind, and the index of its powers."'

"I made Dr. Spurzheim's acquaintance under different circumstances. I was introduced to Dr. Gall as a physi cian; I first saw Dr. Spurzheim in the professor's chair delivering a lecture to a small class whom he had assembled in the Rue de Seine.

"I cannot think, gentlemen, how it is that travellers have never paid any attention to the heads of their fellowcreatures. They make long voyages by sea and land, and measure stones and columns; and yet we never hear of their having examined the form and figure of men's skulls. It is to me truly

extraordinary;' and then he held up two horses' heads to point out the difference, in moral qualities, between an English and French horse. He asserted that French horses are more vicious than English, but that French milliners possessed the fitting organs, and adjusted gowns to ladies' waists beyond all comparison better than British female tailors. Who can dispute the fact?'

"I listened with interest and attention to the doctor's lecture; and his anecdotes, in illustration of reason and instinet, were so amusing, that I continued to attend him regularly throughout the whole of his course. He did not convince me, however, of the truth of his system as a whole, although I was convinced of much that he asserted.

"No two men ever differed more in their physiognomies, nor in their moral characters than these two professors of phrenology.

"Dr. Spurzheim's physiognomy indicated every thing which was kind and benevolent, and he was what he appeared. A better man never lived. He had, perhaps, too great faith in his own opinions. As to the countenance of Gall, I should say that it indicated that feeling had been absorbed in interest, and that it betrayed a disbelief in every thing, and even in his own system; and if the world judges rightly, such was really the case. In conversing with several of the French professors upon this subject, I found them unanimously of this opinion."

After a short visit to England, where he meets his old friends once more, the doctor returns to his patron, and sets out for Poland, passing first through Alsace.

"It is difficult to draw a line of demarkation between two countries that have no natural boundaries, and such is the case with France and Germany on this side of the Rhine; the country is neither French nor German. The language, the looks, and even the manners of the people, all bespeak a blending of character, that has nothing purely original. You feel and see that you are entering another country, and yet the gradation of difference is so trifling, that you are puzzled to find out in what it directly consists. You are placed in a kind of purgatory, and anxiously await the moment that shall transport you into regions which have a more defined character. If you occasionally meet a peasant with a large slouched hat, or an Israelite in his Jewish gabardine, you imagine yourself no longer in France; but when the postillion at the

end of the stage tells you in very polite French, that he has driven you very well, you find that you are not in Germany.

"It was not till we arrived at the village of St. Avold, very prettily situated, and surrounded by hills and forests, that we could be made fully sensible that we were quitting La Grande Nation. The style of architecture of its church differs entirely from any thing we had seen in France; but, on the other hand, an inscription only half effaced, over its portal, leaves no doubt that the Revolution proceeded to the very frontiers.

Le peuple Française reconnait l'existence d'un Etre suprême, et l'immortalité de l'ame.' Such is the noble declaration of the French people. With this exception, we might have imagined ourselves emerged from the territories of this enlightened nation. Many little differences were here visible. The peasant smoked his pipe over a mug of beer; salted cucumbers and sauer kraut were served for dinner, and the ostler, demanding a pittance for putting-to the horses, observed that it was the last town in France, and that 'cela commence ici.'

"It would have been more congenial to my wishes to have embarked at Mainz, and have navigated the Rhine as far as Cologne; to have seen the embryo of one of the finest cathedrals ever meditated by architectural imagination; to have seen fifty churches, and whatever else the town may be proud of; but this was not in our march route, and following orders, we crossed the Rhine at Mainz, over a bridge of boats. Here, at the confluence of the Main, it rolls proudly and rapidly along, as if conscious of its superiority over other European streams, and proud of the hosts of battles which once made it blush. It was but a hasty glimpse which we could enjoy of its bubbling waters, and yet the momentary view was long enough for the mind to conjure up a thousand associations, a history of our world,-for Europe is a world to us.

"We arrived at Frankfort in time for dinner, and lodged in the Zeil, famous for the number of its magnificent hotels. They are like so many palaces; and the internal arrangement and cleanliness are not surpassed by the Pulteney in Piccadilly, nor the Clarendon in Bondstreet. There is the difference, however, of fifty per cent. in the charges, and on the right side too, which gives them a decided advantage, and insures them plenty of guests to partake of their excellent cheer. I could at this time read German tolerably well, having devoted some time to it in Paris; but

speaking it was out of the question, yet I did contrive to say to the waiter, 'geben sie uns ein recht gut mittagsessen,' and, what is more, he understood me too, and fulfilled the orders given to him. Such a dinner I shall never forget; it was a perfect era in my existence; it was a triumph of two of the senses over the other three: who can forget such a circumstance? We may forget the style of architecture of a convent which we have seen externally, for this implies the use of one sense only; we may forget when we first heard the waltz in Der Freyschütz, for this implies the sense of hearing only; we may forget what we have felt with our fingers, for this requires the aid of another sense to make it complete; but to forget the taste and smell of twenty dishes, exquisitely cooked and served up, at the very moment when the palate, beginning to be oblivious of the last, is regaled by the taste of its superior flavoured successor; to forget this, I say, would imply a want of general delicacy of feeling, which no man can accuse me of. I forget many things which occurred in our route from Paris to Cracow, and perhaps they are not worth remembering; but the dinner at the Windenhof I shall never forget."

At last arrived in Poland, the whole features of society are different.

"Each guest breakfasts in his own room, where tea and coffee are served at his own hour; he rises to take it, or takes it in bed, sipping his coffee, eating his toast, or smoking his pipe, alternately. If he has no particular plan of amusement for the morning, no hunting, no shooting or gallanting, he remains in his dressing gown, reclining upon his sofa, with a pipe in one hand and a book in the other, till dinner time. There is in most houses a luncheon served about eleven; but it is often sparingly attended by the guests, for the dinner hour is early in Poland. 'Not longing at sixty for the hour of six.' Their longings are not so long, and all assemble for the grand object of life about three o'clock. From the ceremonies of inquiries concerning health and last night's fatigue, and, hope you did not take cold,' and 'I am afraid that you exerted yourself too much,' and how charmingly your daughter dances,' and 'when does your son return from his travels?' and then the servant enters with a little tray, covered with little glasses, which he presents with one hand, holding a bottle of brandy or some spirit in the other, to fill the glass at your command, and

another servant hands you a small bit of cheese, or a bit of dried salmon or salt herring, with a little bit of bread upon which to put the tit-bit, which you put into your mouth, and the foldingdoors opening, you hand a lady in to dinner.

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As regards the seat you occupy, the nearer you are to the mistress of the table, the nearer you are to the seat of honour; and each takes his place by a kind of aristocratic, instinctive feel ing.

The doctor sits very near the end of the table, the farthest removed from the seat of honour. The dishes are all handed round, as in France, and nothing is carved upon the table, which is generally covered with the dessert. There are few dishes peculiar to the country, except the sour soup, which is exquisite. The beer is delicious, the wines of the country bad; but at a nobleman's table, of course, the best wines are imported from France.

"The dinner does not last long; the process of carving much lengthens this repast with us. All rise together, and the gentlemen conduct the ladies to the drawing-room where coffee is served. If there be no strangers present, it is customary for the men to retire into their rooms immediately after dinner, where they smoke their pipes, and take a siesta till about eight o'clock. All meet in the drawing-room at tea time, when evening visitors flock in. Then begin the waltz and the mazurka, with the ravishing German music. much he loses who does not dance, and has not music in his soul! Cards, dice, billiards, have their votaries, and the amusements continue till midnight, when all retire, and the following day resembles the preceding."

How

"I was playing at cards on new year's eve, when the cold was very intense I think 27 Reaumur, and a servant entered the room to inform a nobleman that three of his peasants were found frozen to death, about a mile from the town.

"Il n'y a que trois, c'est peu de chose,'and continued his game of quinze, without making another observation. The same circumstance might have occurred in England, but would not he to whom the news communicated make it his care immediately to send his steward to give all the consolation possible to the distressed families? so with the Pole; he only became more anxious to win his game at cards, to make up for the loss of the three peasants. This, it is true, was an instance only of passive conduct: but I witnessed so much more active brutality exercised by the rich towards the poor,

Not