THE DOCTOR.

So far as a judgment can be formed of the design of a work from its third and latest volume,* the biography of a country practi- tioner residing in or near Doncaster is merely a framework in which to set the outpourings of the Doctor's brain. Some- times these are displayed in a good story, or in shrewd, sensible, or touching observations ; sometimes in homely but true pictures of scenes in the respectable part of bygone rustic life; they are frequently exhibited in quotations from curious and half-forgotten books, rather artfully strung together, or intermingled with the texture of his discourse ; anon there comes a quaint remark ; and somewhat too often the intrusion of self-sufficient and egotistical conceits, which mostly lack the spirit and animation that procures for such offensive demonstrations pardon—not applause. In one of the passages alluded to, the Doctor—excited perhaps by the praises of' the Quarterly, the sources of which it is not difficult to divine—amuses himself; at the expense of his reader, with fine) Mg the various conjectures that will be made in the literary world as to the authorship. The writer's name may be left as a puzzle for those gossips to whom small matters afibrd a great stimulus: his character is visible in his work. We see he is a good old Tory, with a strong prejudice against change, a strong haired against Dissent, and a good-natured bigotry for the forms of the Church, counterbalanced by exceeding liberality as regards the doctrines of the Gospel. He has an acquaintance with work- aday and " auld warld " life, both in city and country; and derived, apparently, rather from observation than books. From his narrow and rather prejudiced notions of modern matters, and his somewhat overweening opinion of himself; we are inclined to consider him provincial (though a small Tory coterie in London

• We have not read the first and secoud volumes: they never reached us.

would work the same results). This conjecture is strengthened by the nature and extent of his reading ; although in his studies he seems rather to have been impre,sed by single passages, or by the general aubject of his authors, than to hate caught their spirit,—a circumstance which always renders it doubtful whether the learning is original or gleaned at second-hand.

We have plumped of course into the whitlle of the story; but from the rambling desultory nature of the work, we suspect the fable was a %Cry tic:Mid:ay consideration with the author. "I'V hat little there is, however, seems well adapted to the end in view ; and the characters are true in themselves, and truly though slightly touched. Besides the Ductor, they consist cf apicus, sen- sible, mid humble-whirled country curate, a widower vith fifty

pounds a year; his daughter, aBerwards the Doctor's wife ; and a retired trader of the old school, with the fetnales of his family. We mention these characters rather to indicate the stuff of which

. the tale is made, than in order to bring out their peculiarities. Our extracts, like the book, must be desultory.

Mr. Bacon's parsonage teas as humble a dteelliag in all respeets as the cot-

tage in which his friend Daniel tVa4 born. A best kitchen was its best room ; and in its furniture an Observantine Friar would have seen tiething that he could have condemned :IS superfluous. J I i. college and later scheol books, with a kw volumes which had been presented to him by the noire grateful 1.1 his

composed his scanty libraty : they were cid.: r books of needlul refer

ewe, or seek its upon ever y fresh pi osal alliird new delialit. But he had obtained the useol the Church Library at Iniocastt r, hy a payment of twenty shilliogs, ;moo ding to the terms of the bouldatien. haios bout that collection :night be kept three months, smaller voluines, OtIC (Jr two, according to their size ; and as there woe many rin 10 in it of solid contuits as well as sterling s'alue, he was in Ito such want of ion Iluctual fool as too many of his brethren are in even at this time. I low ninch good mieht have heen done, and how notch Might probably have been prevent' d, if Dr. that 's &sign for the formation of pal ochial libraries had C.111 d into effect !

The parish contented betwtCH t, iiiiI six hundred souls. There WaS 110 One of higher rank among them than entitled Ilion tectit (ling to the custom tif those days, to be stjled gentleman ii!an 11 tetillnstone. They %%lac plain people, who had neither manukctories au-rept, aleheuses to brutalize, nor news- papers to mislead them. At. Iii ,t comtog intorno them he had won their good- 1.611 by his affability and benign conduct, and he hail alto %lairds gaitted their respect and allfretion in an equal degree. There were two services at his church, hut only one sermon, xvhich never CA abort of fifteen minutes in length, and seldom exteotled to half an hour. It was generally abridged from slime good old ii Rilit. I:is tarn eun.r.., :DWI,: Were few, and only upon points 1111 whieh be sc isht d cai efitUy to exanatte and digest his own thoughts, or which were peculiarly suitol to some t r other of his hear- ers. Ilis whole stuck might he ',cooed scanty in thoa: days ; hut there was rot one in which it would 1101 tit I brat- I erelith,I1, awl the mute observaot of his congregation liked that they should be repeated.

The curious fvliciftss of the patchwori, composition has been alluded to. The passage below is an iirstance of it. The two quotations, and the anecdote of 1..twusm..]:, not only illustrate but combine with the thoughts which they almost seem to have sug- gested. The quotation from PETtt %Hcit is beautiful, though per- Imps too eminently classical in its closing

Robert Landor (a true poet like his great brother, if ever there was one) says finely in his "Impious Banquet,"

" Thew a pato., near death w ben men grOW litaii Ttn■ a IA all things else."

Before that awful pause, whenever the thought is brought home to us, we feel ourselves near enough to grow indifferent to them, and to petceive the vanity of all earthly pursuits, those only excepted which have the good of our fellow creatures for their object, and tend to our own spiritual improvemeot.

But this is entering upon a slim too serious tar this place; though any re- flection upon the lapse of time and the changes that steal un us in its silent course leatls naturally to such thoughts. Dumia outstunit longior alas,

iTentinque -irr,iL morininr, r3pOnorl111r ira nololo.

le mlii eollains mini non Me ,itteror ; •

Irons alia est, moleAvot aiii, III i nialgo,

WHIM, alitldi Inlitata P1.11, Alt1'11.

Sir Thomas Lawrence was told one day, that he had made a portrait, which

he was then finishiog, ten years too young : Well," lie I eplitd, I IE.Ve ; and 1 see no reason why it should not be mado so." There was this it son : ten years, if they bring with them only their ordinary portion of evil and of good, cannot pass over any one's head head without leav mg their motel as well as physical traces especially if they have been years of active and intellectual life. The painter, therefore, who dips his brush in 3ktlea's kettle, neither represents the countenance as it is nor as It has been.

" And what does that signify ? " Sir Thomas might ask in rejoinder. What, indeed ! Little to any une at present, and nothing when the very few who are coneerned in it shall have passed atvay, except to the artist. The Inuits of his picture as a work of art are all that will then be considered ; its fidelity as a like- ness will be taken for granted, or he thought of as little consequence as in reality it then iv.

Yet if Titian or N'andyke had painted upon such a principle, their portraits would not have been esteemed as they now are. We should not have felt the certainty which we now feel, that in looking at the pietures of the Emperor Charles the Fifth and of (roues, of King Charles the Martyr and of Straf- ford, we see the veritable likeness and true character of those ever-memorable personages.

oro aoafoos.

are ;" and it is as useless to regret the days of "live and let live," as to weep over bag wigs and hooped petticoats.

London in his days was a better school for young men in trade than it ever

was before, or has been since. The civic power had quietly and imperceptibly put an end to that club-law which once made the apprentices a turbuleut and formidable body, at any moment armed as well as ready for a riot ; and masters exercised a sort of parental control over the youth intrusted to therm winch in later times it may be feared has not been so couscieotiously• exerted, Iseeause it is not likely to be so patiently endured. Trade itself hail not then been OM. rowed by that ruinous spirit of competition, which, more than any other of the evils now pressing upon us, deserves to be called the curse of England in the present age. At all times men have been to be found who engaged in hazard. Otis speculations, gamester-like, according to their opportunities, or who, mis- taking the means for the end, devoted thenisidves with miserable fidelity to the service of Mammon. But • hive and let live," had not yet become a maxim of obsolete morality. NVe had our monarchy, our hierarchy, and our at istocracy- God be praised for the benefits which have been derived f111111 all three, and Cod itt his mercy continue them to us! but we bad no plutaieby, no million- aries, no great capitalists to break down the honest and industrious birder with the weight of their overbearing and over whelaning wealth. They who had enriched themselves in the course of regular and honourable commerce withdrew from business, and left the field to others. Feudal tyranny had passed away. and monied tyranny had not jet risen in its steatl—a tyranny baser in its origin, not more merciful in its operations, and With less in its appendages to redeem it, THE mos:racy ANL) litcritosrucr or. TIFF:.

It is well for us that in early life we nevel think of the vicissitudes which lie before us; or look to them only with pleasurable anticipations as they approach. roots

Knows nought t.1 ebango qe litithtraced tlivnt on.

Expects, and ran interpret tlitun."--Isa1C UON■ tis.Nvs.

The thought of them when it comes across its in middle life brings with it only 3 tra indent sadness, like the shat low of a piosing cloud. We turn tote eyes from them while they are in prospect, but when they are in retrospect many a longing linger- ing look is east behind. So long as 31r. Allison was in business, he looked to Thaxtcd (f range as the place where he hoped tote day to etijoy the blessings of at tirentent — that otinia ruin (Us/hi/ale which in a certain sense the prudent

citizen is more likely to attain than tint successful statesman. It wts the plea- sure of recollection that gave this hope its zest and its strength. But after the object which during so many years he had lull in view had been obtained, his day-drcams, if lie had allowed them to take their course, would have recurted more frequeotly to bishopsgate Street than they had ever wandered from thence to the scenes of his boyhued. They recurred thither oftener than he wished, although few men have been more masters of themselves; and then the rellICIIV• brance of his %vice, whont he had lost by a lingering disease in mirldMa:ze, and of the children, those who had died during their childhood and those whit in reality were almost as much lost to him in the ways of the world, made him alway turn for comfort to the prospect of that better state of existence in which they should once more all he gathered tegether, anti whero there would bc neither change nor parting,. Ilis thoughts Mten fell into this train, when on summer evenings he was taking a solitaty pipe in his arbour, with the church in sight, and the

churchyard wherein at no distant time he win; to he I tid in his last abode. Such musings induced a sense of sober piety—of thankfulness kr former blessings, contentment with the present, and humble yet sure and t:et tam hope for futurity, which might vainly have been sought at prayer meetings or evening leetttres, where indeed little good can ever be obtained without some deleterious admixture or alloy of baser feelings.

Enough of The Doctor. He is not, whatever he may think, equal to RABELAIS, BUTLER, or even STERNE ; but his volume is an agreeable variety and relief to the dashing, cateless, and often thoughtless productions of the day.