lovely prize, who in the carriage soon dried her
eyes upon his shoulder.

Then she applied to her new lord and master
for information. "They say that you and me
are one, now," said she.

He told her triumphantly it was so.

"Then from this moment you are Julius and I
am Elfrida," said she.

"That is a bargain," said he, and sealed it on
the sweet lips that were murmuring Heaven so
near him.

In this sore-tried and now happy pair the
ardour of possession lasted long, and was
succeeded by the sober but full felicity of conjugal
love and high esteem combined. They were so
young and elastic, that past sorrows seemed but
to give one zest more to the great draught of
happiness they now drank day by day. They all
lived together at Albion Villa, thanks to Alfred.
He was by nature combative, and his warlike
soul was roused at the current theory that you
cannot be happy under the same roof with your wife's
mother. " That is cant," said he to Mrs. Dodd;
"let us you and I trample on it hand in hand."

"My child," said poor Mrs. Dodd sorrowfully,
"everybody says a mother-in-law in the
house bores a young gentleman sadly."

"If a young gentleman can't live happy with
you, mamma," said he, kissing her, "he is a little
snob, that is all, and not fit to live at all.
Delenda est Cantilena! That means down with
Cant!" , They did live together: and behold
eleven French plays, with their thirty-three
English adaptations, confuted to the end of time.

Creatures so high-bred as Mrs. Dodd never
fidget one. There is a repose about them; they
are balm, to all those they love, and blister to
none. Item, no stranger could tell by Mrs.
Dodd's manner whether Edward or Alfred was
her own son.

Oh, you happy little villa! you were as like
Paradise as any mortal dwelling can be. A day
came, however, when your walls could no longer
hold all the happy inmates. Julia presented
Alfred with a lovely boy: enter nurses, and the
villa showed symptoms of bursting. Two months
more, and Alfred and his wife and boy
overflowed into the next villa. It was but twenty
yards off; and there was a double reason for
the migration. As often happens after a long
separation, Heaven bestowed on Captain and
Mrs. Dodd another infant to play about their
knees at present, and help them grow younger
instead of older: for tender parents begin life
again with their children.

The boys were nearly of a size, though the
nephew was a month or two older than his uncle,
a relationship that was early impressed on their
young minds, and caused those who heard their
prattle many a hearty laugh.

"Mrs. Dodd," said a lady, " I couldn't tell by
your manner which is yours and which is your
daughter's."

"Why they are both mine," said Mrs. Dodd
piteously.

As years rolled on Dr. Sampson made many
converts at home and abroad. The foreign ones
acknowledged their obligations. The leading
London physicians managed more skilfully; they
came into his ideas, and bit by bit reversed their
whole practice, and, twenty years after Sampson,
began to strengthen the invalid at once, instead
of first prostrating him, and so causing either
long sickness or sudden death. But, with all
this, they disowned their forerunner, and still
called him a quack while adopting his quackery.
This dishonesty led them into difficulties. To
hide that their whole practice in medicine was
reversed on better information, they went from
shuffle to shuffle, till at last they reached that
climax of fatuity and egotism—THE TYPE OF
DISEASE IS CHANGED.

Natura mutatur, non nos mutamur.

O, mutable Nature and immutable doctors!

O, unstable Omniscience, and infallible
Nescience!

The former may err; the latter never—in its
own opinion.

At this rate, draining the weak of their life-blood
was the right thing in Cervantes's day:
and when he observed that it killed men like
sheep, and said so, sub tit. Sangrado, he was
confounding his own age with an age to come three
hundred years later, in which coming age depletion
was going to be wrong.

Molière—in lashing the whole scholastic system
of lancet, purge, and blister as one of
slaughter—committed the same error: mistook
his century for one to come.

And Sampson, thirty years ago, sang the same
tune, and mistook his inflammatory generation for
the cool generation unborn. In short, it is the
characteristic of a certain blunder called genius
to see things too far in advance. The surest
way to avoid this is not to see them at all; but
go blindly by the cant of the hour. Race
moutonnière, va!

Sampson was indignant at finding these gentry,
after denouncing him for years as a quack, were
pilfering his system, yet still reviling him. He
went in a towering passion, and lashed them by
tongue and pen: told them they were his
subtractors now as well as detractors, asked them
how it happened that in countries where there is
no Sampson the type of disease remains
unchanged, depletion is the practice, and death the
result, as it was in every age?

No man, however stout, can help being deeply
wounded when he sees his ideas stolen, yet their
author and publisher disowned. Many men's
hearts have been broken by this: but I doubt
whether they were really great men.

Don't tell me Lilliput ever really kills
Brobdingnab. Except of course when Brobdingnab
takes medical advice of Lilliput.

Dr. Sampson had three shields against
subtraction, detraction, and all the wrongs inventors
endure; to wit, a choloric temper, a keen sense
of humour, and a good wife. He storms and