“Take a seat, Mr. Zensas, you appear wondrous full of vivacity,” said the professor, as I entered, singing “A was an artery,” &c. “Yes, sir, and I can assure you it is vivacity of the same kind that a beneficent Creator exhaled into the nostrils of the first-created--life in the sense in which every reasonable man--every man with a proper appreciation of the subject--every man of learning and intellect, and physiological acquisition, regards the vital principle--and not that degraded vitality of the Liebigian system, which makes man's assimilating functions a chemical operation, and degrades his mighty nature to the level of the ass”--“hideous doctrine,” broke in the old professor. “Mr. Tensas, would that the whole class possessed your discriminative wisdom; then I could descend to the grave with the proud consciousness that man held of his existence the same exalted opinion that I have always tried to teach; then would I see this chemical theory of life exploded. Theory which degrades man lower than the brutes, makes the subtlest operations of his nature a mere chemical effect, and the noble action of the lungs a scape-pipe for extra heat; magnificent--” And the excited physiologist, carried away by his feelings, burst into one of his wildest harangues, battling for his favourite theory with more vigour than he had ever displayed in the rostrum--and there never had stood his superior for eloquence--until a knock at the door broke in upon his declamatory current and dammed its waters. “Bless me!” he exclaimed, rubbing his glasses and looking at his watch, “is my time out? Why, I have done all the talking. But go, Mr. Tensas, the views that you advocate attest your qualifications. You may depend upon my vote and influence.” “Two votes safe!” said I, as I regained the lobby, “and now for old '_Roots_,' as the professor of Mat. Med. was familiarly called by the class--he's deaf, but thinks no one knows it but himself. I'll talk low, and he won't know whether I am answering correctly or not.” “Take a seat, Mr. Tensas. How are you to-day? I suppose you are ready for being examined? What is calomel?” All this being said _sotto voce_. “A drug, sir, that may be called the right bower of quackery, and the four aces of medical murder; referred to by Shakspeare when he said, 'Throw physic to the dogs,' and specifically mentioned by him, though a typo graphical error has somewhat obscured it, evidencing its antiquity and universal administration at his time in the lines, 'Be thou as pure as ice, as chaste as snow, thou shalt not escape Calumel.'” I spoke in a whisper, but moved my lips as if vociferating. “Right, Mr. Tensas; but you need not holler so as to alarm the college; I am not deaf. What is the usual dose in the South?” “Half a pound for an infant, and the quadrature of the stomach's circle for a grown negro!” “What are its specific effects upon the system?”