Ridiculus sermo cui vita rebellis abhorret Ergo cave Doctor dissonus esse tibi. CHAPTER XIII. After some pages of erasure, and scraps not exactly intelligible, we again meet with some connected paragraphs. What follows seems a detached memorandum, relating principally to a character well known, and highly respected, in his day; and we therefore give it in our friend’s own words. “The interval between a young man’s earliest admission at the university, and the taking of his first degree, can hardly be expected to involve many matters of importance. At a remote period, and when we are far advanced in life, so far, that its close becomes almost discernible through the gathering clouds, memory delights to dwell on scenes that are past, and meditation lingers on the different individuals with whom we started in the race together, whose loss we deplore, or who yet fill stations in the world within the reach of our observation. A Sexagenarian must necessarily have many to lament, and others who, though they have not prematurely disappeared, so far excited his attention, or interested his feelings, that he looks back to them with a mingled regret and esteem. “I had occasion, during my progress to my degree, to consult a physician, and I was directed to Dr. Glynn. He was a most singular, eccentric character, but had many amiable qualities, and was a learned and accomplished man. Detached anecdotes of him may be found in various publications, but I have often lamented that no authentic and more circumstantial account of his life and manners has been given, by some familiar and intimate acquaintance. He was not always disposed to admit patients, and I well remember that when I first waited upon him, I distinctly heard him pacing up and down his room, spouting Greek. I knocked two or three times, but no notice was taken. I became impatient, and fancying my case to be one which would not admit of delay, with a venial eagerness I should hope, I repeated my knocks. Again no notice was taken. At length, I ventured to open the door, and, to my great consternation, found the old gentleman still traversing his apartment, and spouting aloud. On my entrance he stopped, and somewhat harshly demanded my business. I threw as much obsequiousness into my manner, and as much of a supplicating tone into my voice, as I could, and he was so far softened, that he asked me to sit down, and listened attentively to my case. He was afterwards kind to me, and called at my rooms more frequently than perhaps was necessary, as far as malady was concerned. I learned also from my tutor, that he would accept of very little as a compensation for his trouble, for physicians’ fees were then paid by the tutor; of the present practice I know nothing. I remember that his first and greatest favourite was Juvenal, the whole of whose writings he appeared to have at his fingers ends. He certainly must have written