his! Pooh! it is paste--not worth so many sous--worth
nothing."

Th Jew had _two_ rings exactly alike, with the little difference, that in
the one was a real stone, in the other an imitation. By dexterously
changing the one for the other, he had contrived to give this beneficial
lesson to the young, nobleman, which, it is to be hoped, prevented him,
for ever after, from entering the list with sharpers, or trying by
unworthy means to over-reach his neighbours.

But to return to what is more generally alluded to as the _premier
pas_--that first success which starts the aspirant on his road to fortune
or to fame. It is the barrister and the physician who, amongst all
professional men, have most frequently to record some happy chance or
adventure that came to the aid of their skill, knowledge, and industry;
and of the first brief, or of the first patient, the history is not
unfrequently told with singular delight. The story we have to tell, and to
which the above remarks and anecdotes may be considered by the reader, if
he will, as a sort of preamble, regards the _first patient_ of one who,
commencing under great difficulties, rose ultimately to the head of his
profession. It belongs to both those classes which, we observed in the
commencement, are often mingled indiscriminately together. It has in it
something of the marvellous, and yet afforded but a fair opening to
genuine talent; it was a first step which the fairies presided over, and
yet it was a step on the firm earth, and the first of a series which only
true genius and worth could have completed. We are fortunate here in
having the words before us of the French author from whom we quote, and we
have but to render the anecdote--biography, or romance, whichever it may
be--in whatever of the lively style of M. Felix Tournachon our pen can
catch, or, under the necessity we are to abridge, we can hope to transfer
to our pages.

THE FIRST PATIENT

...He was not then the great doctor that you know him now. At that time
he was neither officer of the Legion of Honour, nor professor of the
Faculty of Paris. Hardly was he known to some few companions of his
studies. The horses that drew his carriage were not then born; the pole of
his landau was flourishing green in the forest.

He had obtained his title of physician, and lived in a poor garret--as one
says--as if there were any garrets that are rich; and to accomplish this
miserable result, to have his painted bed-ste