As he was watching the manœuvres and expedients of this not uncommon character, a party of gentlemen suddenly intervened between his vision and the subject of his gaze. They were all so exceedingly merry that Peter felt anxious to join in their sport, and declares that he should have done so had he not been deterred by seeing one of them slyly and skilfully sliding his hands into the pockets of another, where, he quite reasonably supposed, it had no business. This was an exploit the like of which he had never witnessed before; but having frequently heard of the practices of a learned profession, he immediately concluded that this cunning villain was a lawyer, so prone are we to form opinions from general reputation. He soon after discovered his error, however, for the loud “hue and cry” that met his ears, very distinctly informed him that upon this world there were pocket pickers and robbers as well as upon our own, showing that we cannot claim these blessings as belonging exclusively to us. Inference, thought Peter, is a very uncertain thing, as often unjust as it is mistaken, and he asked of himself whether it had ever assigned to him a place in the category of rogues. Of this he might have been satisfied, for it has not yet been shown that any has ever escaped such imputations, and we can only be surprised that so many are foolish enough to manifest doubtful anxiety in a matter of which each may be so certain. Another, who was hurrying along with all possible speed, and whose wild appearance seemed to attract general notice, now claimed Peter’s attention. Not in the least regarding his late experience, he at once concluded that this was a madman, in which he was again partially mistaken. Following after, it was not long before he discovered him to be an eminent physician, visiting a patient to whom he had the day before administered a dose, and who was now in his last agonies. “A wretched, bungling quack! a quack, sir,” exclaimed a young physician, who became irritated at our dreamer as he was declaiming upon this portion of his dream. “Perhaps,” replied a stranger, “the people of that sphere are stupid enough to follow the practice that caused the uncivil jest of Fabius of Bentivoglio, who, on his way to manufacture a doctor, by chance espied an ass yawning with open mouth as if he were laughing. To whom, ‘why laugh you,’ says Fabius, ‘you silly creature? we can make you a doctor too, if you have but money.’” However this may have been, the great haste of the physician was matter of surprise to Peter, who could not understand why a professor, whose business it was to assist people to get out of the world with ease, should be so much concerned for the life of a single patient. His wonder, however, soon subsided upon being furnished with reason to believe that the man of medicine was a more careful student of the Talmud and the Rabbins than of his profession, and that he had not been running for the good of the