"You think nothing, then, of the infini—
what?—tesimal doses?"

"Pooh! We are all continually taking
infinitesimal doses. A druggist's apprentice
is inhaling and absorbing them, from all
manner of medicines, all day. If they cure
diseases by their power of producing similar
diseases, what a state every such unfortunate
youth ought to be in! But I am open to
conviction, sir. Take a hundred patients or so,
with similar ailments. Put them all on the
same regimen. Give one fifty homœopathic
globules, and the other globules of bread.
Lead them all to imagine that they are being
treated homœopathically. Repeat this
experiment a dozen times, and if a plain
preponderance of cures can be shown on the side of
the first fifty, I will believe in the globules.
But I think I may venture to add, I will also
eat my boots."

"It is a sad thing that there should be so
much quackery," Mr. Bagges remarked—
"eh?—and that Government should grant
patents for quack medicines! If the medicines
do good in some cases—why, in others, patients
may take the wrong, or die from quacking
themselves, instead of resorting to proper
advice—eh? And then only to think of the
mischief done in the nursery—by mistakes
with your Daffy, and your Dalby, and your
Godfrey. How—just for the sake of a little
revenue—can Government sanction such—
what?— such mischievous imposture?"

"From an utter contempt of medical
science, and a total disregard of the rights
of the medical profession, Mr. Bagges, in
which society acquiesces."

"But now, is society altogether to blame?"

"No, sir. We are partly to blame
ourselves for not having disclosed to society the
true nature of our science. We ought to
have told society long ago what I have just
been trying to tell you."

"Well," said Mr. Bagges, "let us hope the
world will get wiser by and by with respect
to medical matters. And now—if you'll
allow me one glass more—we'll drink
'Physic'—I mean 'Success to Physic,'—and
then we 'll ring for the tea."

CHIPS.

LIVES AND CARGOES.

A SHORT time ago, a vessel, crowded with
passengers, was wrecked, in the night, on one
end of the Goodwin Sands; and, a little after
daybreak, another vessel, laden with a cargo
of tin in sheets, copper in tiles and cakes, and
lead in pigs, was wrecked at the other end of
the sands. They were both descried by the
glasses of sailors ashore, on the look-out; and,
though the wind was still blowing a gale, and
the sea running high and wild, a crew of
seamen put off in the life-boat from
Broadstairs, determined to risk their lives in an
attempt to reach one of the vessels. They
took their course towards the vessel crowded
with passengers, and which had been first
wrecked. Soon afterwards a second boat,
from another station, was launched into the
bursting waves, and made its perilous way
towards the other vessel, laden with the cargo
of sheet tin, tiles and cakes of copper, and
pigs of lead.

The crew of the first life-boat managed to
reach the vessel; and, by the numbers that
crowded the deck, all crying out and praying
to be saved, the boatmen immediately saw
that there was a good deal more rough work
chalked out for them. Two or three "trips,"
and the co-operation of their mates ashore,
would be necessary, to save so many lives.
They made up their minds to the task, and
at once took as many as they could—landed
them safely at Broadstairs, and then buffetted
their way back to the same vessel again,—the
sea often running clean over men and boat.
This they repeated—a second life-boat from
Broadstairs joining them in the exploit—and
in the course of the day they succeeded in
taking off every soul on board, and bringing
them safely ashore. The vessel also had a
number of casks of butter and lard in her
hold, which the captain had ordered up on
deck, all ready; but if the boatmen had taken
these, they must have saved two or three
lives less for each cask, according to weight,
so the butter and lard were left to perish.

The crew of the boat that made its way to
the other vessel, at the furthermost end of the
sands, found that although there were but
few lives to save (only the captain, mate, and
two "hands,") there was a much better
thing, viz., a valuable cargo. No wild and
unmanageable passengers—desperate men,
half-frantic women, screaming children—all
very difficult to get into the boat, and yet
more difficult to prevent from leaping down
into her in a crowd that would capsize or sink
her,—but four seamen, who assisted them in
getting out of the hold cases of placid sheet-
tin, patient tiles of copper, imperturbable solid
cakes, and docile pigs of lead. They also
found a mine of penny-pieces, in the shape of
casks of copper-nails, and a thousand copper
bolts. They made their way back with as
much as they could safely carry, and shortly
afterwards returned with two other boats.
They persevered in this "labour of love" till
they had got out nearly all the cargo, and
carried it safe ashore.

Now comes the question of remuneration
for these two parties of bold sailors, and the
wise condition of maritime laws in these very
important cases. The sailors who had assisted
in moving the sheet tin, the tiles and cakes,
and casks, and bolts of copper, and the pigs
of lead, received, each man, twenty pounds in
the current coin of the realm; and the sailors
who had risked their lives in saving the
crowd of passengers in the other vessel
(having no lawful claim to anything for
only saving human lives), received, by special