practice. If he does not find patients at his door, he seeks them
through a wide circle. Like the ghostly lover of Burger's Leonora, he
mounts at midnight and traverses in darkness, paths which, to those
less accustomed to them, seem formidable in daylight, through straits
where the slightest aberration would plunge him into a morass, or throw
him over a precipice, on to cabins which his horse might ride over
without knowing they lay in his way, unless he happened to fall through
the roofs. When he arrives at such a stately termination of his journey,
where his services are required, either to bring a wretch into the
world, or prevent one from leaving it, the scene of misery is often
such, that, far from touching the hard-saved shillings which are
gratefully offered to him, he bestows his medicines as well as his
attendance--for charity. I have heard the celebrated traveller Mungo
Park, who had experienced both courses of life, rather give the
preference to travelling as a discoverer in Africa, than to wandering by
night and day the wilds of his native land in the capacity of a country
medical practitioner. He mentioned having once upon a time rode forty
miles, sat up all night, and successfully assisted a woman under
influence of the primitive curse, for which his sole remuneration was a
roasted potato and a draught of buttermilk. But his was not the heart
which grudged the labour that relieved human misery. In short, there is
no creature in Scotland that works harder and is more poorly requited
than the country doctor, unless perhaps it may be his horse. Yet the
horse is, and indeed must be, hardy, active, and indefatigable, in spite
of a rough coat and indifferent condition; and so you will often find in
his master, under an unpromising and blunt exterior, professional skill
and enthusiasm, intelligence, humanity, courage, and science.

Mr. Gideon Gray, surgeon in the village of Middlemas, situated in one of
the midland counties of Scotland, led the rough, active, and