auditors,--"I never see a great town from the top of a hill without
thinking of an apothecary's shop!"

"Lord, sir!" said the lady. Tomlinson's end was gained. Struck with the
quaintness of the notion, a little crowd gathered instantly around him,
to hear it further developed.

"Of an apothecary's shop, ma'am!" repeated Tomlinson. "There lie your
simples and your purges and your cordials and your poisons,--all things
to heal and to strengthen and to destroy. There are drugs enough in that
collection to save you, to cure you all; but none of you know how to use
them, nor what medicines to ask for, nor what portions to take; so that
the greater part of you swallow a wrong dose, and die of the remedy!"

"But if the town be the apothecary's shop, what, in the plan of your
idea, stands for the apothecary?" asked an old gentleman, who perceived
at what Tomlinson was driving.

"The apothecary, sir," answered Augustus, stealing his notion from
Clifford, and sinking his voice lest the true proprietor should overhear
him (Clifford was otherwise employed),--"the apothecary, sir, is the LAW!
It is the law that stands behind the counter, and dispenses to each man
the dose he should take. To the poor it gives bad drugs gratuitously; to
the rich, pills to stimulate the appetite; to the latter, premiums for
luxury; to the former, only speedy refuges from life! Alas! either your
apothecary is but an ignorant quack, or his science itself is but in its
cradle. He blunders as much as you would do if left to your own
selection. Those who have recourse to him seldom speak gratefully of his
skill. He relieves you, it is true,--but of your money, not your malady;
and the only branch of his profession in which he is an adept is that