Turn we now to the second article in our list,—_Nugæ Canoræ_; and we are satisfied that our readers will agree with us in the correctness of our _guess_. It is the production, at any rate, of one who has lived much in the medical world, and no unobservant spectator of the vices and virtues, the feelings and failings of contemporary practitioners, possessing tact to “catch the manners living as they rise.” In short, it is a pleasant _jeu d’esprit_; and we hail it as an omen, that in these “piping times of peace,” the days of Garth, Goldsmith, and Darwin may be revived, and that the medical fraternity may again employ their _leisure_ hours in amusements for which their education and intercourse with society so well qualify them. After a humorous preface, in which the removal of the College of Physicians to Pall-mall East is lamented, the work, for very satisfactory reasons, is dedicated to the Presidents of the two Colleges and to the Master of the Company of Apothecaries, for the year 1927—and as a character in one of Foote’s farces wishes he were to be born “fifty years hence,” so should we like to have a peep at the “Clines and Coopers,” the “Halfords and Warrens,” of that day. We wish, with the author, that they may be as distinguished ornaments of their profession as those of our own. That the old college should still be preserved for medical purposes, it is proposed to turn it into a “Medical Mausoleum,” where the “Medical Fraternity” are to be buried on the same terms as the Parisians are at Père la Chaise—and then follow the supposed Epitaphs of the present race of the “Medici.” Due honour is done to learning and talents; while quackery, in all its ramifications, meets with just castigation. The names of Heberden, Turton, and Baker are noticed with the respect to which their virtues and acquirements entitle them. Passing from these, we are introduced to an eccentric of the old school. [p333] “SIR RICHARD JEBB, BART. M.D. “Here, caught in Death’s web, Lies the great Doctor JEBB, Who got gold-dust just like Astley Cooper; Did you speak about diet, He would kick up a riot, And swear like a madman or trooper. “When he wanted your money, Like sugar or honey, Sir Richard looked happy and placid; Having once touched the cash, He was testy and rash, And his honey was turned to an acid.