“He is the greatest bore in all Christendom; I knew him well,” observed Mr. Seymour, “when he practised as a Conveyancer in Gray’s-Inn, and went by the nickname of the Riot Act; for, in such horror was he held, that, if a number of persons were congregated, his approach was sure to disperse them. But what has been the subject of your discourse?--was the etymologist merely airing his vocabulary, or did he propose some difficult question for discussion? Be this, however, as it may, I will venture to say that he was, as usual, loquacious on the subject of _mutes_--dry on the use of _liquids_, and descanting without end on the importance of a _termination_?” “Mr. Seymour, I am really and truly ashamed of you; punning, under any circumstances, is a most disgraceful habit, but when employed to distort the meaning of language it becomes absolutely criminal.” To turn the subject of this discourse, the vicar proceeded to inform Mr. Seymour that he had no sooner escaped from the fangs of Prybabel than he encountered _Polyphemus_. Our readers may, perhaps, wonder who this _Polyphemus_ could have been; we must, therefore, inform them that Mr. Twaddleton, whose ideas were always tinctured with classical colouring, had bestowed this appellation upon the renowned Dr. Doseall, the Esculapius of Overton, because, as he said, his practice was like the Cyclops, _strong but blind_; and Mr. Seymour declared that the similitude was even more perfect than the vicar had contemplated, for he observed that he certainly fattened upon the unhappy victims who fell within his clutches.