10.--The lawyers' train. Fierce-looking, dictatorial, categorical faces look out of the window at the weather, with the stern glance they are accustomed to bestow on the jury, and stare at the sun in the face, as though to say--“None of your prevarication with _me_; answer me, on your oath, is it to rain or not?” 10 1/2.--The return of the doctors. They have been out on a morning beat, and are going home merry or mournful, as the case may be. Generally the former, as the sad ones take to the third class. These are jocose, droll dogs: the restraint of physic over, they unbend, and chat pleasantly, unless there happen to be a sickly gentleman present, when the instinct of the craft is too strong for them; and they talk of their wonderful cures of Mr. Popkins's knee, or Mr. Murphy's elbow, in a manner very edifying. 11.--The men of wit and pleasure. These are, I confess, difficult of detection; but the external signs are very flash waistcoats, and guard-chains, black canes, black whiskers, and strong Dublin accents. A stray governess or two will be, found in this train. They travel in pairs, and speak a singular tongue, which a native of Paris might suppose to be lush. A NUT FOR THE DOCTORS. [Illustration: 168] Would you ask, Who is the greatest tyrant of modern days? Mr. O'Connell will tell you--Nicholas, or Es-partero. An Irish Whig member will reply, Dan himself. An _attaché_ at an embassy would say, Lord Palmerston,--“'Tis Cupid ever makes us slaves!” A French _deputé_ of the Thiers party will swear it is Louis Philippe. Count D'Orsay will say, his tailor. But I will tell you it is none of these: the most pitiless autocrat of the nineteenth century is--the President of the College of Physicians. Of all the unlimited powers possessed by irresponsible man, I know of nothing at all equal to his, who, _mero motu_, of his own free will and caprice, can at any moment call a meeting of the dread body at whose head he stands, assemble the highest dignitaries of the land--archbishops and bishops, chancellors, chief barons, and chief remembrancers--to listen to the minute anatomy of a periwinkle's mustachios, or some singular provision in the physiology of a crab's breeches-pocket: all of whom, _luto non obstante_, must leave their peaceful homes and warm hearths to “assist” at a meeting in which, nine cases out of ten, they take as much interest as a Laplander does in the health of the Grand Lama, or Mehemet Ali in the proceedings of Father Mathew.