in this bewitching capital."

There was worldly wisdom in the remarks of M'Linnie; and before I
quitted him I was satisfied of the propriety of paying every attention
to the professional instruction of the surgeon, without committing
myself, by visiting him as a friend, to an approval of his detestable
principles; and accordingly, at two minutes to six o'clock, I presented
myself at the hospital on the following morning. Many students were
already in attendance, and precisely at six o'clock the baron himself
appeared. He bowed to the students as a body and honoured me with a
particular notice.

"Eh bien, jeune Chretien!" he said, shaking me by the hand, "have you
prayed for my reformation? It is very remiss of you if you have not done
so. You know I made you yesterday my father confessor."

There was immediately a general laugh from the students--medical
students being, it should be known, the most unblushing parasites on
record.

These words were spoken under the low portico of the building which
forms, with its long ascent of steps, one side of the square in which
the Cathedral of Notre Dame has its principal entrance, and is certainly
not one of the least interesting adjuncts of that magnificent edifice.
We passed without further speech through the range of buildings within,
the professor in our van, and in a minute or two found ourselves in a
spacious, clean, and well-filled ward.

The surgeon took his seat at the foot of the first bed in the sick
chamber, and the students crowded eagerly around him, evidently anxious
not to lose a syllable that should fall from his lips. I shall never
forget the lesson of that morning. The judgment, the penetration, the
unflinching collectedness, and consummate skill of the surgeon,
compelled my warmest admiration. I forgot our ground of disagreement in
the transcendent ability that I beheld. His heart, and mind, and soul,
were given up to his profession, and his success was adequate to the
price paid for its purchase. The baron was, however, a mass of
contradiction. I discovered this before we had been an hour in the ward.
It was clear that he had risen by the sheer strength of great natural
genius, and that he was lamentably wanting in all the agreeable
qualities which spring from early cultivation and sound training. He was
violent, sudden, and irregular in his temper and mode of speaking--when
his temper and speech were directed against any but his patients. He had
no re