[Illustration: O]One fine morning, in the October of the third winter
session, the student is suddenly struck by the recollection that at the
end of the course the time will arrive for him to be thinking about
undergoing the ordeals of the Hall and College. Making up his mind,
therefore, to begin studying in earnest, he becomes a _pro tempore_ member
of a temperance society, pledging himself to abstain from immoderate beer
for six months: he also purchases a coffee-pot, a reading-candlestick, and
Steggall's Manual; and then, contriving to accumulate five guineas to pay
a "grinder," he routs out his old note-books from the bottom of his box,
and commences to "read for the Hall."
Aspirants to honours in law, physic, or divinity, each know the value of
private cramming--a process by which their brains are fattened, by
abstinence from liquids and an increase of dry food (some of it _very_
dry), like the livers of Strasbourg geese. There are grinders in each of
these three professional classes; but the medical teacher is the man of
the most varied and eccentric knowledge. Not only is he intimately
acquainted with the different branches required to be studied, but he is
also master of all their minutiæ. In accordance with the taste of the
examiners, he learns and imparts to his class at what degree of heat water
boils in a balloon--how the article of commerce, _Prussian blue_, is more
easily and correctly defined as the _Ferrosesquicyanuret of the cyanide of
potassium_--why the nitrous oxyde, or laughing gas, induces people to make
such asses of themselves; and, especially, all sorts of individual
inquiries, which, if continued at the present rate, will range from "Who
discovered the use of the spleen?" to "Who killed cock robin?" for aught
we know. They ask questions at the Hall quite as vague as these.
It is twelve o'clock at noon. In a large room, ornamented by shelves of
bottles and preparations, with varnished prints of medical plants and
cases of articulated bones and ligaments, a number of young men are seated
round a long table covered with baize, in the centre of whom an
intellectual-looking man, whose well-developed forehead shows the amount
of knowledge it can contain, is interrogating by turns each of the
students, and endeavouring to impress the points in question on their
memories by various diverting associations. Each of his pupils, as he
passes his examination, furnishes him with a copy of the subjects touched
upon; and by studying these minutely, the private teacher forms a pretty
correct idea of the general run of the "Hall questions."
"Now, Mr. Muff," says the gentleman to one of his class, handing him a
bottle of something which appears like specimens of a chestnut colt's coat
after he had been clipped; "what's that, sir?"
"That's cow-itch, sir," replies Mr. Muff.
"Cow what? You must call it at the Hall by its botanical name--_dolichos
pruriens_. What is it used for?"
"To strew in people's beds that you owe a grudge to," replies Muff;
whereat all the class laugh, except the last comer, who takes it all for
granted, and makes a note of the circumstance in his interleaved manual.
"That answer would floor you," continues the grinder. "The _dolichos_ is
used to destroy worms. How does it act, Mr. Jones?" going on to the next
pupil--a man in a light cotton cravat and no shirt collar, who looks very
like a butler out of place.
"It tickles them to death, sir," answers Mr. Jones.
"You would say it acts mechanically," observes the grinder. "The fine
points stick into the worms and kill them. They say, 'Is this a dagger
which I see before me?' and then die. Recollect the dagger, Mr. Jones,
when you go up. Mr. Manhug, what do you consider the best sudorific, if
you wanted to throw a person into a perspiration?"
Mr. Manhug, who is the wag of the class, finishes, in rather an abrupt
manner, a song he was humming, _sotto voce_, having some allusion to a
peer who was known as Thomas, Lord Noddy, having passed a night at a house
of public entertainment in the Old Bailey previous to an execution. He
then takes a pinch of snuff, winks at the other pupils as much as to say,
"See me tackle him, now;" and replies, "The gallery door of Covent Garden
on Boxing-night."
"Now, come, be serious for once, Mr. Manhug," continues the teacher; "what
else is likely to answer the purpose?"
"I think a run up Holborn-hill, with two Ely-place knockers on your arm,
and three policemen on your heels, might have a good effect," answers Mr.
Manhug.
"Do you ever think you will pass the Hall, if you go on at this rate?"
observes the teacher, in a tone of mild reproach.
"Not a doubt of it, sir," returns the imperturbable Manhug. "I've passed
it twenty times within this last month, and did not find any very great
difficulty about it; neither do I expect to, unless they block up
Union-street and Water-lane."
The grinder gives Mr. Manhug up as a hopeless case, and goes on to the
next. "Mr. Rapp, they will be very likely to ask you the composition of
the _compound gamboge pill_: what is it made of?"
Mr. Rapp hasn't the least idea.
"Remember, then, it is composed of cambogia, aloes, ginger, and soap--C,
A, G, S,--_cags_. Recollect Cags, Mr. Rapp. What would you do if you were
sent for to a person poisoned by oxalic acid?"
"Give him some chalk," returns Mr. Rapp.
"But suppose you had not got any chalk, what would you substitute?"
"Oh, anything; pipeclay and soapsuds."
"Yes, that's all very right; but we will presume you could not get any
pipeclay and soapsuds; in fact, that there was nothing in the house. What
would you do then?"
Mr. Manhug cries out from the bottom of the table--"Let him die and be
----!"
"Now, Mr. Manhug, I really must entreat of you to be more steady,"
interrupts the professor. "You would scrape the ceiling with the
fire-shovel, would you not? Plaster contains lime, and lime is an
antidote. Recollect that, if you please. They like you to say you would
scrape the ceiling, at the Hall: they think it shows a ready invention in
emergency. Mr. Newcome, you have heard the last question and answer?"
"Yes sir," says the fresh arrival, as he finishes making a note of it.
"Well; you are sent for, to a man who has hung himself. What would be your
first endeavour?"
"To scrape the ceiling with the fire-shovel," mildly observes Mr. Newcome;
whereupon the class indulges in a hearty laugh, and Mr. Newcome blushes as
deep as the red bull's-eye of a New-road doctor's lamp.
"What would _you_ do, Mr. Manhug? perhaps you can inform Mr. Newcome."
"Cut him down, sir," answers the indomitable _farceur_.
"Well, well," continues the teacher; "but we will presume he has been cut
down. What would you strive to do next?"
"Cut him up, sir, if the coroner would give an order for a _post mortem_
examination."
"We have had no chemistry this morning," observes one of the pupils.
"Very well, Mr. Rogers; we will go on with it if you wish. How would you
endeavour to detect the presence of gold in any body?"
"By begging the loan of a sovereign, sir," interrupts Mr. Manhug.
"If he knew you as well as I do, Manhug," observes Mr. Jones, "he'd be
sure to lend it--oh, yes!--I should rayther think so, certainly,"
whereupon Mr. Jones compresses his nostril with the thumb of his right
hand, and moves his fingers as if he was performing a concerto on an
imaginary one handed flageolet.
"Mr. Rapp, what is the difference between an element and a compound body?"
Mr. Rapp is again obliged to confess his ignorance.
"A compound body is composed of two or more elements," says the grinder,
"in various proportions. Give me an example, Mr. Jones."
"Half-and-half is a compound body, composed of the two elements, ale and
porter, the proportion of the porter increasing in an inverse ratio to the
respectability of the public-house you get it from," replies Mr. Jones.
The professor smiles, and taking up a Pharmacopoeia, says, "I see here
directions for evaporating certain liquids 'in a water-bath.' Mr. Newcome,
what is the most familiar instance of a water-bath you are acquainted
with?"
"In High Holborn, sir; between Little Queen-street and Drury-lane,"
returns Mr. Newcome.
"A water-bath means a vessel placed in boiling-water. Mr. Newcome, to keep
it at a certain temperature. If you are asked at the Hall for the most
familiar instance, they like you to say a carpenter's glue-pot."
And in like manner the grinding-class proceeds.
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