[Illustration: "DUBLIN DISSECTOR"]

under his arm; and whether he is engaged upon a subject or no, delights to
keep on his black apron, pockets, and sleeves (like a barber dipped in a
blacking-bottle), the making of which his sisters have probably
superintended in the country, and which he thinks endows him with an air
of industry and importance.

The new man, at first, is not a great advocate for beer; but this dislike
may possibly arise from his having been compelled to stand two pots upon
the occasion of his first dissection. After a time, however, he gives way
to the indulgence, having received the solemn assurances of his companions
that it is absolutely necessary to preserve his health, and keep him from
getting the collywobbles in his pandenoodles--a description of which
obstinate disease he is told may be found in "Dr. Copland's Medical
Dictionary," and "Gregory's Practice of Physic," but as to under what head
the informant is uncertain.

The first purchase that a new man makes in London is a gigantic note-book,
a dozen steel pens on a card, and a screw inkstand. Furnished with these
valuable adjuncts to study, he puts down every thing he hears during the
day, both in the theatre of the school and the wards of the hospital,
besides many diverting diagrams and anecdotes which his fellow-students
insert for him, until at night he has a confused dream that the air-pump
in the laboratory is giving a party, at which various scalpels, bits of
gums, wax models, tourniquets, and foetal skulls, are assisting as
guests--an eccentric and philosophical vision, worthy of the brain from
which it emanates. But the new man is, from his very nature, a visionary.
His breast swells with pride at the introductory lecture, when he hears
the professor descant upon the noble science he and his companions have