"Aye—there's the rub."—HAMLET.
"'Tis all one!" said I, laying down the newspaper on the breakfast table, after reading an erroneous representation of myself and the Marquess of Sligo:—"I am resolved to remove this stain from my character, and, if hard-rubbing can do it, I may hope to succeed." I had scarcely pronounced these words, when my servant entered the room to inform me that a person had arrived in breathless haste, imploring my assistance for a gentleman in a dying condition. Heedful, as I ever am to attend to the sufferings of others—a pursuit in which I have found ample fee-licity—I drew on my boots and followed the applicant to the house of the suffering gentleman. This was situated in a picturesque part of the metropolis, and, on knocking, the door was opened to me by a man who might be six and forty years of age—there, or thereabout. Guessing the purport of my visit, he said nothing, but led me up to his master's room, when a spectacle of the most appalling character met my eyes. A gentleman in the prime of life, lay extended on a bed—his hair dishevelled, his dress disordered, and his complexion a midway hue between the tints of chalk and Cheshire cheese. His tongue hung out of his mouth, loaded with evidence of internal strife. I naturally believed that the present was a confirmed case of phthisis pulmonalis, and I accordingly had recourse to my well known, and, with-few-exceptions-always-successful remedy of inhaling. In this instance, however, it did not answer my expectations. Instead of benefitting the trachea, it produced a sympathetic affection of the stomach and diaphragm, and the oesophagus formed the medium of communication between the patient and myself. Having taken a pinch of snuff, I was about to give my other infallible remedy a fair trial, when the patient opened his eyes. But, gracious heaven! what eyes! The visual orb was swoln, blood-shot, troubled and intolerably dull. At the same moment, some incoherent expressions fell from the unfortunate gentleman. After a reference to the kidneys, he seemed to wish for something to be found in the coal-hole, or the cider-cellar; but the search of the servant below stairs was unavailing. I now began to apprehend delirium. To be sure of the state of his mind, I inquired if there were any clergyman whom he would wish to see: He exclaimed, "O venerable old Offley!" But when I expressed to the servants a wish that this reverend gentleman might be sent for, they assured me that they had never heard of him! The patient then muttered some inarticulate sounds, and turned on his side. This position being favourable for my original operation of rubbing, I slit up the back of his coat, waistcoat, and all other vestmental impediments, and smartly applied a solution of tartarised antimony along the course of the spine. The effect was instantaneous on the alimentary canal, and a griping in the transverse arch of the colon well nigh put a full stop to the patient's sufferings. The ductus communis choledochus again deluged the stomach, and with the customary consequences. The scene now, became almost insupportable. An aged nurse, who had, from the infancy of the patient, been his domestic, declared that she could hold out no longer. Poor creature! the tear of affection glistened in her eye; while her convulsed features betrayed uncontrollable sensations. It was a struggle between the heart and the stomach: the heart, remained true, but the stomach turned. At this the patient commenced cursing, swearing, and blaspheming, in a way which will be found fully detailed with all due dashes —! —! —! &c. &c. in the last number of a Northern magazine. "Zounds!" cried he, starting up on his séant—"Who are you? who sent for you? May the fiends catch you and cleave to you for ever! Give us the hips! a small glass of brandy! ha! ha! ha! O my back! D—n all doctors! Here am I stung and tortured with gastritis, hepatitis, splenitis, nephritis, epistaxis, odontalgia, cardialgia, diarhoea, and a whole legion of devils with Latin names! D—n all doctors again, say I!" And with this exclamation, he hurled a curious crown of crockery at my head, which fitted on so tightly, that only by breaking it, could I disengage myself from the delfic diadem. I hastily ran down stairs, and, meeting the man of six and forty in the passage, I inquired of him very minutely concerning the state of his master. He answered all my questions with perfect candour, and not without a certain archness of look and manner rather unusual among men of six and forty in his rank of life. From all I elicited, and also from certain corroborative proofs, which I do not think it necessary now to specify, I have no hesitation in declaring, for the information of the profession to which I do not belong, and of the public generally, that in this case my abstruse remedies had not a fair trial, inasmuch as the patient's state was vulgarly simple. He had been drunk the night before!
J. ST. J.L.
Fraser's Magazine.
RETROSPECTIVE GLEANINGS.
HISTORY OF THE PENNY.
(For the Mirror.)
"She sighs and shakes her empty shoes in vain,