the wild delirium which it caused, and raved incessantly on ever-changing subjects. A good constitution, however, carried me through, and in about a month I was able to sit up, weak in mind and body, and thoroughly miserable.

I was recommended to change the air, and, if possible, the climate. To this, I felt well disposed; for I knew that my prosperity in Manchester, was over, and too much ridicule attached now to my practice, even to permit the most anxious to visit me.

I sold off every thing, and started for London.

CHAPTER XVII.

"A horse—a horse. My Kingdom for a horse."

SHAKESPEARE.

"She walks the waters like a thing of life."

BYRON.

"The old Lion of England grows youthful again,
He rouses he rises-he bristles his mane ;
His eyeballs flash fire, his terrible roar,
Like thunder bursts awfully over our shore !"

"Once more upon the waters, yet once more,
And the waves bound beneath me as a steed
That knows his rider."

:

DIMOND.

BYRON.

THE chagrin I felt, at the termination of my career in Manchester, arose altogether from the disappointment I had met in the splendid match, I was so near accomplishing this cut me to the quick; but as concerned my practice, it had become irksome, and, in a great many instances, likely to involve me in trouble; I was glad to escape this, and having amassed very large profits, now that collateral circumstances were bringing to light, the fallacies of my system, it was plain that a change of place was most desirable; such would give me fresh ground, with fresh probabilities of

success.

Amongst the patients who remained steadily my friends to the last, was the Baronet, whom I have mentioned before, as one of my first patients, who attributed his recovery to me, and who, along with many other presents, had given me my splendid horse Skyscraper. He visited me just before my departure, and finding that the only part of all my property that I retained, was the horse, thinking this a mark of personal respect, begged me to accept a handsome gold snuff-box. Poor man, he little knew that I was keeping the animal for a better market. I brought the horse to London, advertised, and offered him for sale at Tattersall's, where his power and beauty procured him many admirers, and a day was named for his sale. It came, the bidders were numerous, and at last, the animal was knocked down at a very large price, to some one who had given silent intimations to the auctioneer, to outbid all competitors. Very well pleased, I was quitting the ride, when my old patient, the Baronet, approached me, and with a look of stern hauteur, mingled with contempt, thus addressed me—

"Sir, you have conferred an immense obligation on me, by the transaction of the last few minutes: you have restored to me a great favourite, and you have freed me from all obligation to you, by your ready and mercenary parting with that faultless creature. I have ever endeavoured to defend you, when the tongue of malignity was busy with your character, but now I can believe every thing which I have heard.

You have exchanged, for five hundred guineas, the friendship of a man, who would willingly have risked his life to save your reputation. I shall not grieve, believe me, to hear of you again encountering my friend Smith, though I feel assured, that all the power of his crutch could not thoroughly expel your innate meanness."

This was very unintelligible to me; I could not see why I should not sell my own horse, if I liked, even though it were a gift. I valued the Baronet's anger and sarcasm, far less than his check for the five hundred guineas, and that, the snuff-box, and the large fees he had given me, balanced in my mind as a full equivalent, for the friendship of a man I was never to see again. I thought "what curious people these English are!"

I now proceeded to the residence of Heinrich Hosse, the London Homœopathist. There, as before, I found many vehicles waiting, and on entering, a crowd of patients. Having mentioned to the black servant who I was, he procured me an immediate audience, but judge of my surprise, on finding every thing the same in the establishment, and in the exquisite study, except the Homoeopathist himself: still the face of the person who occupied his place was familiar to me, and I saw a smile playing over his features, at my momentary failure of recognition. It was but a moment the next, conviction flashed over my mind; it was Sobieski Pöble, ci-devant Professor of Polish at Leipsic, the ridiculed of the University, the beggar

in England suddenly transmuted, "as by the stroke of the enchanter's wand" into Albert Hosse, brother to Heinrich, who had gone on a Continental tour. He enjoyed my surprise amazingly, and in few words, candidly explained to me the history of his present state.

He had begged his way through various parts of England and Wales, in some places being most hospitably entertained by the gentry, on whose breasts his stories of the downfall of Poland, in which he never failed to add

and his illustrious name of Sobieski, rarely failed to make an heroic impression; he played the guitar also, and sung tolerably, and thus, whilst for the amusement and edification of the country squires, he cut down whole regiments of invading Russians, verbally, he found no difficulty in making equally furious assaults on the solid viands which came before him, so that if the induction were drawn of what the little fellow would do with a sword, from what he could do with a knife, it is no wonder they thought him a hero, and treated him accordingly.

Coming to London, he called on Hosse in the same way he had visited me, and he, wishing to retire to Germany, having accumulated a considerable sum, and failing in finding a sufficiently high price for his practice, had adopted the expedient of installing him in his place as his brother, on a salary of a few hundreds a year, reserving the rest for himself, which was regu