The doctor, as our readers will readily imagine, was very justly incensed at this ex-professional interference. His first determination was to treat the matter as a joke, and to turn the laugh against the unmannerly intruder; but the abortive smile was strangled in its birth, and suffused the hue of death over his visage. Never did a countenance, in the focus of his blue window bottle, by candle-light, exhibit a more ghastly pallor; and we can scarcely predict what might have been the consequence, had he not instantly administered a consoling cordial to his nostrils; for, be it known, that the doctor took snuff in the same extravagant proportion as his patients took physic. Having by these means recovered his self-possession, he instantly seized his cane, and waving it with as much dignity as Jove is said to brandish his thunder, he departed in deep dudgeon, which was betrayed by a snarl, not unlike that of a hungry dog who is unexpectedly despoiled of a savory bone, and by a contortion of the face, similar to that we have observed in a child who has unfortunately mistaken Aloes for Liquorice. No sooner had the man of wrath and phials retreated from the field of blood, than Mr. Twaddleton advanced to the suffering artist, deeming the moment of bodily fear as affording a favourable opportunity for an attempt to reclaim him from the error of his ways. “Tom Plank,” said he, in a mild tone, “hadst thou given ear to the warning voice of thy spiritual pastor, and, instead of ridiculing his advice at the sixpenny club, hadst, like a true Christian and worthy parishioner, given heed unto it, thou wouldst not, at this time, have been placed in such bodily peril. Mr. Seymour has consoled thee by his opinion; sincerely shall I pray that his judgment may be confirmed by the result, and that the visitation may have a salutary influence upon thy future conduct. Quit the pursuit of these bubbles, and leave wiser men to investigate the secrets of nature; let me exhort thee to return to thy craft, sow where thou canst reap; we cannot have figs from thorns, nor grapes from thistles; remember the proverb, ‘an emmet may work its heart out, but can never make honey.’ One word more and I have done--suffer not the artist whose profit it is to furnish thee with materials, to flatter and cajole thee--‘the dog wags his tail, not for thee, but for thy bread.’” As the party left the house, they met Mrs. Seymour, with Tom and Louisa, whose looks sufficiently testified the anxiety they had suffered. “Is it all over? Is he dead?” asked Mrs. Seymour. “No, no; he is quite safe; it was an extremely slight accident, although Doseall wished us to believe that it was likely to terminate in some dreadful manner. The vicar thinks that it may prove the means of driving science _out_ of Tom Plank’s head, and I intend to make it subservient to driving it still farther _into_ ours.” “What do you mean?” cried Tom.