among us as in Paris,
where street-doors are open; six or eight families live in a house; and
the gentleman who earns his livelihood by this profession can make half
a dozen visits without the trouble of knocking from house to house, and
the pain of being observed by the whole street, while the footman is
examining him from the area. Some few may be seen in England about the
inns of court, where the locality is favorable (where, however, the
owners of the chambers are not proverbially soft of heart, so that the
harvest must be poor); but Paris is full of such adventurers,--fat,
smooth-tongued, and well dressed, with gloves and gilt-headed canes, who
would be insulted almost by the offer of silver, and expect your gold as
their right. Among these, of course, our friend Robert plays his part;
and an excellent engraving represents him, snuff-box in hand, advancing
to an old gentleman, whom, by his poodle, his powdered head, and his
drivelling, stupid look, one knows to be a Carlist of the old regime.
"I beg pardon," says Robert; "is it really yourself to whom I have
the honor of speaking?"--"It is." "Do you take snuff?"--"I thank
you."--"Sir, I have had misfortunes--I want assistance. I am a Vendean
of illustrious birth. You know the family of Macairbec--we are of Brest.
My grandfather served the King in his galleys; my father and I belong,
also, to the marine. Unfortunate suits at law have plunged us into
difficulties, and I do not hesitate to ask you for the succor of ten
francs."--"Sir, I never give to those I don't know."--"Right, sir,
perfectly right. Perhaps you will have the kindness to LEND me ten
francs?"

The adventures of Doctor Macaire need not be described, because the
different degrees in quackery which are taken by that learned physician
are all well known in England, where we have the advantage of many
higher degrees in the science, which our neighbors know nothing about.
We have not Hahnemann, but we have his disciples; we have not Broussais,
but we have the College of Health; and surely a dose of Morrison's pills
is a sublimer discovery than a draught of hot water. We had St. John
Long, too--where is his science?--and we are credibly informed that some
important cures have been effected by the inspired dignitaries of "the
church" in Newman Street which, if it continue to practise, will sadly
interfere with the profits of the regular physicians, and where the
miracles of the Abbe of Paris are about to be a