been unexpected, or having occurred sooner than was expected.

Many doctors are positively rude when told that Mr. Smith or Mr. Brown, who was ill in the self-same way, was cured in half the time.

Would you be just to the medical man, select him solely on the ground of merit- because he is educated, experienced, and honest. Do this on principle — regardless whether he walk or ride-whether his horse be brown, or grey, or black-his livery green or drab-whether he live in lodgings or occupy a mansion-whether his servant be a little marchioness or a fat and florid flunkey. Do this, I say, and you will do justice to a noble profession, and strike a deathblow at the root of quackery. Reflect for one moment. What can it signify whether your doctor visit you on foot-in a Hansom cab—or in a handsome carriage—provided he bring the necessary ability? I can well remember the time when the doctor was content to occupy the saddle or a simple gig; and I can equally well remember when the close carriage, derisively called a "pill-box," was first introduced. It is now become the measure of professional capacity.

The great world of doctors is divided into classes, orders, and genera, which I shall duly describe.

We have Physicians, who sign M.D., and take a particular class of diseases called " medical," or "internal;" for, as the facetious "Punch" observes, "The faculty has decided that the body has an inside and an outside, just like an omnibus, the laws of nature with respect to each being different."

Next we have Surgeons, who sign M.R.C.S. or F.R.C.S., and who merely attend the outside.

Then we have General Practitioners, who sign M.R.C.S. and L.A.C., and who undertake the inside and the outside,—every disease which flesh is heir to, and every accident which skin and bone are liable to meet with.

In describing the various classes of doctors, I shall begin with the lowest on the scale, which is the regularly, but indifferently, qualified GENERAL PRACTITIONER-the man who has just sufficient brains to enable him to pass an easy examination; which ordeal he gets through with difficulty-his success astonishing his fellowstudents, and bringing great joy to his anxious but despairing relatives and friends, who duly celebrate the auspicious and unlooked-for event at the Cider Cellars or the Coal Hole.

This man commences practice in the low pestiferous districts, where he exercises his functions among the dirtiest and most ignorant of the

population. He is not a high-priest of his calling, but doubtless fulfils a special mission. His life is not to be envied-it is one everlasting toil amidst squalid wretchedness and abject misery: but the fascinating title of "Doctor" is ever sounding in his ears, and drowns the piercing cries of hunger and of misery. Who would not be a doctor?

The next class is the rather better-informed General Practitioner, who contrives to pass his examination by dint of grinding and cramming. As a student, his energies are chiefly directed to the physiology of low life, as displayed in the pothouse near his hospital, where he plays billiards and bagatelle, and imbibes half-and-half until the near approach of his examinations brings him to his senses, or deprives him of them altogether. He is seldom a man of education or ability—is generally the son of some prosperous trader, whose greatest ambition is to call a son—“ Doctor." He practises among the poorer classes, and delights in unions and sick-clubs-he attends "low midwifery," which I presume is synonymous with "cheap labour." He is useful among the low population-is patronised by the shoemaker and the milkman-the huxter and the greengrocer - he is in great force with domestic servants, and a great gun with the stable frater

nity. He is looked upon as a knowing doctor, and resorts to all kind of petty tricks to obtain practice.

The next class is the General Practitioner who attends the better description of practice. His qualification is the same as the last-but being the son of a rich tradesman, he is more consequential, and assumes a brusqueness of manner and vulgarity of language which his admirers denominate eccentricity. He is one of those men of whom "The Times" observes, "Society has always specimens―persons who are privileged to be free and easy, unmannerly and disagreeable. You meet a man whose form of salutation and address make you stare. You are rather perplexed, and do not know quite what to make of it, till you are told that,' It is only Mr. So-and-so, and that you must not be offended, -it is his way." This class of This class of persons is very

apt to indulge in a

sort of pride of privilege, in the idea that they can say what others cannot say; but the privilege of bad manners is a very questionable honour, a very dubious "feather in a man's cap."

These men are tolerated by the easy and better class of merchants and traders on account of their ample means for with the rich trader, the poor and clever doctor finds no favour.

The next class is the really well-educated SCIENTIFIC DOCTOR, who studies physic because he loves it, and not because his mother wants a doctor in the family-for she, poor woman, entertains a pious horror of what she calls "cutting and mangling." This man is of better origin-he distinguishes himself as a student, and confers benefits upon his profession when in practice. He is a man of mark among his brethren, and is patronised by the more educated and intelligent public. He is rarely well off, but always much respected. He has to fight his upward course with the vulgar, obtuse-feeling'd, and ill-informed man last described.

The next is the FASHIONABLE DOCTOR, who is never a scientific man. He possesses ability, and a good knowledge of the world and its conventionalities. As a student he attends the fashionable hospital-spends his time in the parks and public lounges, and rarely in the dead-house or dissecting-room,-and when he does, he keeps his hands begloved, and his nose well lined with snuff. He practises among that class of society which despises everything connected with trade. He frequents the west-ends of towns-keeps a showy establishment and turn-out-attends the opera and concerts-is called " a vaary cleyva doctau" by the exquisite, and "a darling doctor"