Mr. _Haines_, says he, _Pluto_, to say no worse of him, is very ungrateful to the gentlemen of our faculty; and were he not a crown’d head, I would not stick to call him a _Poltroon_. I am sure no body of men cultivate his interest with more industry and success, than we physicians. What would his dominions be but a bare wilderness and solitude, if we did not daily take care to stock them with fresh colonies? This I can say for myself, that I did not let him lose one patient that fell into my hands; nay, rather than he should want customers, I practised upon myself. But after the received maxim of most princes, I find he loves the treason, and hates the traytor; so that no people are put to harder shifts in hell, than the sons of _Galen_. Would you believe it, Mr. _Haines_, the immortal Dr. _Willis_ is content to be a flayer of dead horses; the famous _Harvey_ is turn’d higgler, and you may see him ride every morning to market upon a pannier of eggs; _Mayern_ is glad to be pimp to noblemen’s _valets de chambre_; old _Glisson_ sells vinegar upon a lean scraggy tit; _Moreton_ is return’d to his occupation, and preaches in a little conventicle you can hardly swing a cat round in; _Lower_ sells penny prayer-books all the week, and curls an _Amen_ in a meeting-house on sundays; _Needham_, in conjunction with Capt. _Dawson_, is bully to a _Bordello_; and the celebrated _Sydenham_ empties close-stools. As for myself, I am sometimes a small retainer to a billiard-table; and sometimes, when the matter on’t is sick, earn a penny by a whimsy-board. I lie with a link-man upon a flock-bed in a garret, and have not seen a clean shirt upon my back since I came into this cursed country. By my troth, said I, I am sorry to hear matters go so scurvily with you; but pluck up a good heart, for when the times are at worst they must certainly mend. But, pray doctor, before you go any farther, satisfy me what church you dy’d a member of, for we had the devil and all to do about you when you were gone. The parson of St. _Giles_’s stood out stifly that you dy’d a sound Protestant, but all your countrymen swore thou didst troop off like a good Catholick. Why really _Jo._ cry’d the doctor, to deal plainly with you, I don’t know well what religion I dy’d in; but if I dy’d in any, as physicians you know seldom do, it was, as I take it, that of the Church of _England_. I remember, indeed, when I grew light-headed, and the bed, room, and every thing began to turn round with me, that a forster-brother of mine, an _Irish_ Priest, offer’d me the civility of _Extreme Unction_, and I that knew I had a long journey to go, thought it would not be amiss to have my boots well liquor’d before-hand, tho’ ofter all, for any good it did me, he might as well have rubb’d my posteriors with a brick-bat. This is all I remember of the matter; but what signifies it to the business we are talking of? In short, _Jo._ if thou could’st put me in a way to live, I should be exceedingly beholden