-snuffing and crucible work; while between both is
your transition M.D.--your medical tadpole, with some practice and
more pretension, his game being to separate from the great unfeed, and
rub his shoulders among the "dons" of the art, from whose rich board
certain crumbs are ever falling, in the shape of country jaunts, small
operations, and smaller consultings. Through these promiscuously walk
the "_gros bonnets_" of the church and the bar, with now and then--if
the scene be Ireland--a humane Viceroy, and a sleepy commander of the
forces. Round the room are glass cases filled with what at first blush
you might be tempted to believe were the _ci-devant_ professors of the
college, embalmed, or in spirits; but on nearer inspection you detect
to be a legion of apes, monkeys, and ourangoutangs, standing or
sitting in grotesque attitudes. Among them, pleasingly diversified,
you discover murderers' heads, parricides' busts in plaster,
bicephalous babies, and shapeless monsters with two rows of teeth.
Here you are regaled with refreshments "with what appetite you may,"
and chat away the time, until the tinkle of a small bell announces the
approach of the lecture.

For the most part, this is a good, drowsy, sleep-disposing affair of
an hour long, written to show, that from some peculiarity lately
discovered in the cerebral vessels, man's natural attitude was to
stand on his head; or that, from chemical analysis just invented, it
was clear, if we live to the age of four hundred years and upwards,
part of our duodenum will be coated with a delicate aponeurosis of
sheet iron.

Now, with propositions of this kind I never find fault. I am satisfied
to play my part as a biped in this breathing world, and to go out of
it too, without any rivalry with Methuselah. But I'll tell you with
what I am by no means satisfied,--nor shall I ever feel satisfied--nor
do I entertain any sentiment within a thousand miles of gratitude to
the man who tells me, that food--beef and mutton, veal, lamb, &c.--are
nothing but gas and glue. The wretch who found out the animalculae in
clean water was bad enough. There are simple-minded people who
actually take this as a beverage: what must be their feelings now, if
they reflect on the myriads of small things like lobsters; with claws
and tails, all fighting and swallowing each other, that are disporting
in their stomachs? But only think of him who converts your cutlet into
charcoal, and your steak into sta