[99]
a brute, the wrong way round—against the stream of corruption,—by heaven!—instead of with it.
In this corner, a son of the divine Esculapius, writing a book against predestination; perhaps worse,—feeling his patient's pulse, instead of his apothecary's—a brother of the faculty in the back ground upon his knees in tears,—drawing the curtains of a mangled victim to beg his forgiveness;—offering a fee,—instead of taking one.
In that spacious hall, a coalition of the gown, from all the barrs of it, driving a damn'd, dirty, vexatious cause before them, with all their might and main, the wrong way;—kicking it out of the great doors, instead of, in,—and with such fury in their looks, and such a de-gree
