“Listen to my experience,” said our eccentric friend, “and, if you are a wise man, you will make up your mind as soon as you have heard me.  I have three sons.  I brought my eldest son up to the Church; he is said to be getting on admirably, and he costs me three hundred a year.  I brought my second son up to the Bar; he is said to be getting on admirably, and he costs me four hundred a year.  I brought my third son up to Quadrilles—­he has married an heiress, and he costs me nothing.”

Ah, me! if that worthy sage’s advice had only been followed—­if I had been brought up to Quadrilles!—­if I had only been cast loose on the ballrooms of London, to qualify under Hymen, for a golden degree!  Oh! you young ladies with money, I was five feet ten in my stockings; I was great at small-talk and dancing; I had glossy whiskers, curling locks, and a rich voice!  Ye girls with golden guineas, ye nymphs with crisp bank-notes, mourn over the husband you have lost among you—­over the Rogue who has broken the laws which, as the partner of a landed or fund-holding woman, he might have helped to make on the benches of the British Parliament!  Oh! ye hearths and homes sung about in so many songs—­written about in so many books—­shouted about in so many speeches, with accompaniment of so much loud cheering:  what a settler on the hearth-rug; what a possessor of property; what a bringer-up of a family, was snatched away from you, when the son of Dr. Softly was lost to the profession of Quadrilles!

It ended in my resigning myself to the misfortune of being a doctor.

If I was a very good boy and took pains, and carefully mixed in the best society, I might hope in the course of years to succeed to my father’s brougham, fashionably-situated house, and clumsy and expensive footman.  There was a prospect for a lad of spirit, with the blood of the early Malkinshaws (who were Rogues of great capacity and distinction in the feudal times) coursing adventurous through every vein!  I look back on my career, and when I remember the patience with which I accepted a medical destiny, I appear to myself in the light of a hero.  Nay, I even went beyond the passive virtue of accepting my destiny—­I actually studied, I made the acquaintance of the skeleton, I was on friendly terms with the muscular system, and the mysteries of Physiology dropped in on me in the kindest manner whenever they had an evening to spare.

Even this was not the worst of it.  I disliked the abstruse studies of my new profession; but I absolutely hated the diurnal slavery of qualifying myself, in a social point of view, for future success in it.  My fond medical parent insisted on introducing me to his whole connection.  I went round visiting in the neat brougham—­with a stethoscope and medical review in the front-pocket, with Doctor Softly by my side, keeping his face well in view at the window—­to canvass for patients, in the character of my father’s hopeful successor.