0: IVj 1^ K 4 /; J*^' ■' ly .^- .1 /'' ')J ' \) LEUiHTON AXIJ Mlini'ilV, I'ltlNTKIlS, Johnson's Court, Fleet Street. ■;P7rio:F:E8SO"ii P-o "Kn orr. CANTABRIGIENSES: CONSISTING OK A[i^l(g©(2)T[lg, SMART SAYINGS, SATIRICS, RETORTS, &c. I 4 BY OR RRLATINO TO ^rlrlJtatftr (iTantali^. Tov '^•^'i\ (TVj ^av^ao^.; -yj^'- — PI.ATO. DEDICATED TO THE STUDENTS OF LINCOLN'S INN, BY SOC lUS. THinn KDITIOy, CO^'SIDERAm.V KNU4RGEI). LONDON : CHARLES MASON, WINE OFFICE COUIIT, FLEET STREET. 1836. ISAAC FOOT LIBRARY 3 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. I HAVE often, during my residence in Cambridge, regretted that many very facetious and richly-spiced anecdotes, and smart sajings, siiould only be handed round the University by tradition ; and not only are they entirely lost to the world, but many — -I believe I may add, a veiy great num- ber — of the members of the University, are almost ignorant of their existence. Hence I resolved to compile the JFacEtiac CTantabrigicnses ; and I trust I shall be, if not commended, at least pardoned, for so doing. The eye of the reader will sometimes come in contact with an anecdote which is already familiar to him : this he will perhaps forgive ; as my aim is, not only to make him acquainted with strangers, but also to collect the lost sheep, which are to be found scattered up and down, in various publications, and, like the Jews, have no ])articular resting-place. VI PREFACE. IJoiiifj myself ii morUil enemy to loiif) prrfurr.s, I shall make my l)()\v hy observing^that most men are occa- sionally troubled willi cumii, or, as it is sometimes de- nominated — " Thk Blue Devils ;" and I know of no better remedy for such maladies, than that afforded by a perusal of the FACETIOUS. ADVERTISEMENT TO THE THIRD EDITION. Let it not be thouglit by any Cantab to whom this edition of our Facetice may come, greeting, that we have " set down aught in malice," it is what we aUogether disown. We have endeavoured to keep in view the maxim of our favourite, Horace, " deslpere in loco,'" lest it shoidd be said of us, " mentis desipiebant," and we be forthwith clapped into a straight jacket. We are told that one son of our Alma Mater, a fellow of a College, perusing some dainty morsels contained in our first edition, exclaimed, " mentis emotio," ' Bravo, bravo ! Excellent ! ' but when he came to an Epi- gram in which he himself played Jirst-Jiddle, lie threw down our brat in a furor. We recommend him to case hunself in the following coat of mail, under favour of which he will not be the first man that has hid his ears : — " I'll tell thee what, I'rince; a college of wit-crackers cannot flout nic out of my humour : dost thou think I care for a satire, or an epigram ? No; if a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him."— .Much Ado aiioi r Nothing. Act v. S. 4. We owe apologies to the readers of our first edition for some errors contained tlicrcin, which arose from oiu' VUl ADVERTISEMENT. literary bantling having, from accidental causes, been pre- maturely brought f'ortii without the aid of its regular accoucheur, wlio has often regretted that his obstetric aid wiis not aftbrded in time ; here we have managed things better, and we arc modest enough to exclaim, by way of finale — " Get you gone, you dwarf; Vou minimtts, '' Midsummer Night's Dream. Act in. S. 2. or in the words of Southey, as quoted by that celebrated Cantab, Lord Byi'on : — " Go, little book, from this my solitude ! I cast thee on the waters, go thy ways ! And if, as I believe, thy vein be good. The world will find thee after many days." Don Juan. Canto i. Stanza 222. FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. THE CONFESSIONS OF A CANTAB.* No. 1. • me tabula sacer Votiva paries indicat uvida Suspendisse potenti Vestimenta maris Deo. — Horace. " What eveiybody says, must be true."^ — So runs the proverb ; and if that be true, I really can perceive no rea- son why that which everybody does, should not also be ac- counted necessarily correct. And as everybody, from the '^ Justified Sinner," down to the '^ Opmm-Eater," and the " Footman," have thought proper to confess — I, who am a newly-graduated Cantab, and who have as much to answer for (God help me!) as the worst of them, may, perhaps, be allowed to confess also. Besides, they say, that to unbur- den one's conscience, and to pour forth one's follies and one's sins into the attentive ear of a confessor, does, like tincture of rhubarb to the disordered bowels, administer a balm, a comfort, and a relief, which is at once indescrib- * We have made Imld to transplant, for the edification of our Academic Headers, especially those in cmOrt/o, the above excellent paper, from that, mirror of prose writing, Blackwood's Magazine. 2 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. able, and " devoutly to be wished." All tliis, as far as re- gards the rhubarb, I can perfectly understand, and cor- dially assent to ; as to the confession, I am deternuned to try its boasted effects, and to quack myself at least for once. If this be a wise resolution, my conduct in the selection of a confessor nuist, I am sure, strike everybody as being ex- tremely judicious. A confessor should be a discreet and nncommunicatinj^ individual ; and as secrecy is to be looked upon as his primary and indisjiensable qualification, I have made choice of the public for my confessor, because I have a well-grounded conviction that it will go 710 farther. But — avaimt, ye ancient pedagogues, who " prepare young gentlemen for the imiversities" — ye phlcbotomists, with crabbed Greek in your mouths — with crabbed frontis- pieces to those animated Lexicons and Graduses, your heads — and with crabbed sticks and long birches in your hands — avaimt ! — for here you will be shocked with a re- creant disciple, who, forgetting all your warnings, and all your instructions, never read a single hour in the day — who cut Chaj)el, Hall, Lectures, and Gates, day after day, and night after night — who persisted in ])laying at billiards at Chesterton — in attending Newmarket meetings — in hunt- ing twice a-week — and in encouraging, exciting, and pa- tronizing w'ine parties and mid-night revels, instead of cramming for examinations, writing for prize poems, and reading for honours. With this warning I conclude my preface, and now begin, as in private duty bound, with MY INITIATION. V When I reached Cambridge, my fii-st business was to beat up the quarters of my old school-fellows who had been eman- cipated from the thraldom of our common pedagogue. Doc- tor Jones, twelve months before that favour was extended FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 3 to Pill Garlic. The awkwardness one feels at entering the University is the most unpleasant, and (for the first day) the most inraicible sensation that can be imagined ; be- sides, I liad heard a great deal of the College sparks, and of the tricks and cheats that were commonly practised upon unsophisticated and unsuspecting Fresh-men ; so that I had determined to pvit myself under the guidance and protec- tion of some of my old friends who were second-year-men, and, consequently, not to be taken in. But at every room in College to wliich I directed my steps, I found the door sported,* and eveiy lodging-house-keeper, of whom I had occasion to inquire, returned me the same answer. " Gone to Newmarket, and will not be back till evening," was the reply to all inquiries. Finding, tlierefore, that I had no chance of meeting with any one to whom I was personally kno\\ni 1)efore night, I resolved to run all hazards, and re- signed myself into the hands of the College Mercury, a sort of Fresh-mayi's Vade-me-cum, or Young Goionsmans best Companion ; who, ha^dng heard of my arrival, had been dogging me at every turn, and seemed detennined not to lose siglit of me for a moment. This wortliy personage I shall introduce to the reader under the name of Mr. Ferret; and, in doing this, I am merely repajang the civility he exercised towards me in making me acqviainted with some fifty individuals within the space of an hour — " College laundress, sir — Sempstress, sir — Grocer, sir — JVant a gyp,\ won't you, sir? — This * Sported. — The door being sported, simply means that it was shut. The rooms in College are like the chambers in the Inns of Court, having an outer door and an inner one. 'I'he outer is caWed ihe sijorting dour, and is a very useful barricado against duns. They are used by reading' men to keep out idle visiters; and by others to prevent the entrance of visiters of a more troublesome nature, before mentioned. t Gi/p. — A gyp is a man who brushes clothes, wakes men for chapel, runs of errands, and waits at ^able. His peniuisites are innumerable; but he is a necessary part of every gownsman's establishment. The word gyp is classicffl, however barbarous it may sound, being derived from b2 4 FACETIyE CANTABRIGIENSES. here's one of them as belongs to Trinity — very honest young fellow, sir — College hair-cutter, sir," &c. &c. — and so on ad infinitum, wliich, in this case, is the Latin for " even down to the shoe-black." Tliis FeiTct was, in every sense of the word, the " Fresh- man's Directory ;" liis business was to point out the college- tradesmen to new-comers; — he attended them to choose their rooms, and performed a variety of other little offices, the trouble of which bore an inverse ratio to the pay he re- ceived. He first carried me to a tailor ; and here the cere- mony of introduction, by the worthy Ferret, first began — " Mr. Shears, college-tailor, sir" — " This here's Mr. Mab- bry o' Trinity." — Mr. Shears was a very forward, but smooth-spoken sort of a tailor, (as, indeed, they all are, ex- cept when they come for money,) who assured me, among other things, that he had turned out coats which had passed for Stidtz's own cut ; and concluded a very modest, but somewhat protracted, encomium upon his own talents, (which, by the bye, is wi-itten, committed to memory, and annually recited to Fresh-men by masters, men, and errand- boys,) by declaring, that he should be most happy to tcait upon me. This was the only part of his oration that I gave the slightest credit to ; and he did not even speak the tnith in this ; for he gnnnbled most unhappily because he had to uait upon me some twenty or thirty times, perhaps, for his money. Of Mr. Shears, I procured a cap and gown ; and having contemplated my new costume in the glass, I sallied forth with some awkwardness, but with considerable pride, to search the rooms in the town. The College was already fidl. In the course of oiu- perambulations, I saw a great many verj- neat and commodious apartments, which I fan- cied would suit me extremely well ; but Ferret was of a dif- y^4> " a vulture," " a bicrf of prey ; " and no person who has had the mis- fortune to retain one in his service will think this etymology at all forced. FACETliE CANTABRIGIENSES. 5 terent opinion. He had always some objection against them — the street was either too noisy or too dull — or the distance from College would be uncommon inconvenient for morning chapel — or the landlady was none o' the most 'commodating — or fifty other things, which it was purgatory to listen to, and with the repetition of which I shall not trouble the reader — As Dido said to the Trojans, " Non ignaramali, miseris succurrere disco." — Sufhceitto observe, that although I really felt grateful to Ferret for the very extraordinary trouble he was taking to procure me a com- fortable settlement, I became at last so fagged and annoyed with running up and down stairs, that I told my "fidus Achates," that if he did not know of any rooms which he thought u'ould suit, I should certainly brave all the noise, and the dulness of the sti-eets — the unaccommodating dis- positions of the landladies, together with the inconvenience of the distance, and secure the first rooms that came in my way. " Why, as to knowing o' rooms, sir," repUed Fei-ret, " I can't say but I do know o' some unaccountable nice "uns, — only you see, sir, we never thinks it right to interfere — we wishes gen'lmen to choose for themselves like." With this, he quickened his pace, and after leading me through two or three dirty little streets, ushered me into a set of apartments which were of themselves inferior, perhajjs, to the worst of those which I had already rejected. As to their situation — a baker's shop was on one side, and a tal- low-chandler's on the other. However, I took them im- mediately, and contented myself with setting Ferret down as a barbarian of execrable taste. But I was entirely mis- taken ; for when I asked what was my landlady's name. Ferret, screwing up his mouth into something between a simper and a grin, rc])lied, " I'm landlord, sir — this liere's ') FACETI.r CANTABRIGIENSES. iny house — find it wery comfortable, I assure you — ho- iiouraLle Mr. IJattlc lodged here last, sir — it was him as made all them holes in the chimley-piece, and as drew them there queer faces on the ceiling — an't they funny, sir? — but they're wery nice rooms for all that, sir, though I says so, as don't ought to say it perhaps — Wish you good day, sir." — Exit Fenet. I was at once so ashamed and so angry, that I was ut- terly unable to reply. It was in vain that I endeavoured to convince myself that Ferret really believed these to be the best rooms I had seen. They were his own — and Ferret had ialcen me in, in every sense of the word. In spite of all my boasted prudence, and my previous know- ledge concerning the college-servants, I had been made a dupe of before I had been in Cambridge two hours. The fact was too glaring to be denied — I threw my cap and gown upon the floor in disgust, and myself upon the sofa — tried to sleep — a sure remedy for ill-temper — but it would not do; — and trivial as the circumstance may appear, it haunted me peqietually ; so that, resuming the academic garb, I deteiinined to take a walk, and amaze myself with contemplating the Cambridge lions. But here again a new mortification was in store for me. Alas ! ye unhappy Fresh-men, how much are ye to be pi- tied ! To say nothing of your first year's examination, with plucking* and the little-go* in perspective; the mi- series you endure, and the mistakes you peqielrate during the first two or three days, are matters which a graduate even can scarcely look back upon without a shudder. I had scarcely proceeded a dozen paces, when I observed the * To be pluckl, is to be found wanting in the examination scales— and tlie little-go, is a new classical examination lately instituted at Cam- bridge. FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 7 eyes of everybody upon me. The gownsmen looked, smiled, and passed on ; the snobs * stood still, and grinned ; and two lounging, careless fellow-commoners, who were coming towards me, fairly bm'st out into an open laugh, and exclaimed, in passing, " Tl/y God, hotr fresh !" — This inex- plicable and imlooked-for behaviour actually stupified me. I knew not whether to retm-n or proceed, when Ferret put his head over my shoulder, and told me that my gown was un-ong side outwards. This communication decided my destination. I rushed home, and as I once more contem- plated my figure in the glass, the feelings of the bashful man, when he had wiped his face with the ink-stained handkerchief, were calm, collected, and even enviable, if compared with mine. Has the reader ever become so un- equivocally fuddled — so happily, and so completely tipsy, as to perpetrate all manner of follies, even to the putting on his coat hind part before, and mistaking the punch-bowl for his hat ? If he have not, and if he have seen no one perr/rcecarl to this extent, (I beg leave to say that / have, and so has O'Doherty, I'll be sworn,) he can at least fancy a votary of the jolly god in such a situation, and may thus form some idea of my woful and ridiculous appearance. My cap was pvit on hind part before, and looked precisely as though I had ujion my head a punch-bowl, or some more offensive utensil. My gown was not only wrong side out- wards, but I had also stuck my anns in the sleeves — very naturally, as the reader will suppose — and as I thought ; but the fact is, that there is a hole at the middle of the sleeve, through which the arm should come, the remainder hang- ing loose from the elbow ; and my new mode of wearing the gown had given it very nearly the appearance of a coat put on hind part before. The cause of the risibility of the * For the benefit of the unsophisticated reader, a snob is, at Cambridge, everybrj'ty ivlio in not a gownsman. 8 FACETI/E CANTABRIGIENSES. gownsmen, and ol" the snobs, was no longer a secret, and I resolved not to aj)pear in the streets again that day. One woidd liavc su])posed that enrage as I was before, this cir- cmnstancc would have driven me mad ; but no — after a few minutes it had quite a contrary efJ'cct. They may talk what they will of weighing so long upon a passive S2)irit, that at length it breaks ; and of overloaduig the heart with grief, till it can contain no more, and then it bm-sts ; for my part, 1 l)elieve in no such doctrine — once wet through, it may rain on as long as it pleases ; deprive me of a bottle of wine and a clean shirt a-day, and fortune cannot render my mi- sery one jot the greater, even if she reduce me to a sweeper of crossings, or a shoe-black. And this second mishap, in- stead of adding to my uneasiness, entirely remo\'ed it. It acted upon me in some such way as a violent debauch would upon a man labouring under a severe bilious attack, which makes him sick, and carries away, at " one fell swoop," both the bile and the ill-effects of the debauch. The paroxysm over, I laughed as heartily as the best of them, and ordered Ferret to show up the candidates for my patronage, or, as they more wisely ask, " for my custom." There is a wide diiference between the two. As our old pedagogue used to say, in descanting upon the peculiar force of some Greek verb, " There is an idea of continu- ance and continuality" conveyed in the word custom, which is not always observed. At least my worthy grocer did not appear to understand it, for I asked him to explain what he meant by custom, and he replied, " buying your groshery at my shop, sir." In hiring a gyp, washerwoman, semp- stress, &c., and in promising my custom to tradesmen, I observed one very curious circumstance. Among some fifty candidates, there were only three names — they were all Ferrets, Jones's, or Thomsons ; and it was not till I had resided at Cambridge some time, that I made the disco- FACETl.B CANTABIIIGIENSES. 9 very, that among all the tradesmen and college-servants, which may be about five hundred in number, there are not, perhaps, more than twentij different names. This is easily to be accounted for. In the infancy of the university, these offices might very easily have been engrossed by ^we or six persons, and from that time they have become hereditary. From the names of these five or six persons, some jxitro- nymics have been formed, and the generations have gone on from age to age with all the regularity and uniformity of the epic poems of Greece or Rome. Like them, too, they have had, as one may say, their episodes. Their daugh- ters have married — taken the names of their husbands, as most married women do — and these husbands have divided the spoil with thou- fathers or brothers-in-law — they have been admitted as accomplices, in the acts of fleecing gowns- men — or, as Uiey woidd call it, " o{ serving tltcm."- — Thus, then, by the original names, the patronymics, and the in- termarriages, or episodes, the whole nmnber, which, by a very liberal calculation, I have stated at twenty, may be very easily accounted for, and made up. Having at length completed my estabhshment, wliich I selected according to the greater or lesser marks of roguery upon the countenances of the candidates, I took my tlinner in my own rooms, and then began to unpack my books, and to make some show of literature in the Cambridge way. And now that I look back upon that day, I must confess that I continued perfectly consistent, and that it was always my practice to shcJf my books. The first that I laid my hands upon, were abridgments of the works of Lavater, and of Doctors Gall and Spurzheim. I lamented much that I had not consulted these in my preceding occu- pations, for I confess that I was then a very great Bump- iologist, and I still think that Nature does sometimes write a very legible hand upon the phizmahoyony of some people. 10 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. As to tlie humps, I know very little about tliem — though, at the same time, I would stake my existence, that I would pick out Ilazlitt's and Leigh Hunt's skull from those of the whole universe. But, to return to my confession : I made lots of good resolutions — I was never to go to wine parties — I was to read for Honours, I was to read six hours a-day — crat all gay acquaintances — never drink punch, and therefore to re- fuse all invitations to suppers — I was what? — I really can- not tell, for the gyp of my old friend Stamford made his appearance with a note fi-oni his master. — Stamford had found my card in his door, and was hut just returned. The st)'le of this letter was then quite new to me, and I pre- served it as a curiosity. Silly young man ! Did you ever receive one in a different style while you were at Cam- bridge ? Never : you might as well have taken bad Eng- lish to a Yankee — a pig-tail to a Chinese — folly and dis- honesty to a Radical, or a mummy to an Egyptian, and then call them curiosities. I confess it. The epistle of my friend, however, ran thus : — "Dear Mobray, " See by your card you're come up — devilish glad of it — must sup with me to-night — no come off— must see you— excuse haste — just returned from Newmarket— tell you all about the runs when I see you — had a cold ride homewards, damned woolly — but Sir Oliver was up, so we stnick the flax into the Tits, and they came along in grand style with " Your's truly, " Harry Stamford. "P.S.- Feed at nine." What was to be done ? Violate all my good resolutions as soon as they were made ? Impossible ! But then tliis FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 11 was a bi'oken day — I was tired, and could read nothing that night; and, if I could, to refuse to sup with an old friend whom I had not seen for some months, where I was sure also to meet with many others from whom I had been separated for a much longer time, appeared to me too bad even for a leading man, which is saying a great deal. Thus did I cogitate, while the gyp stood scratching his head, and I at length replied that " Mr. Stamford might expect me at nine." — " The practice of my resolutions may be deferred till the morrow," said I, "and in the meantime I will en- deavour to improve them in theory." This was a fatal step. First impressions are always last- ing, as every body has observed before me, and as I now observe, because it answers my purpose — not that I believe it. It appears to me, like most common-place sayings, to be utterly false and unphilosophical. As it is with proverbs and classical quotations (of wliich old pedants of seventy, and their disciples of seventeen, are so fond), so is it with this — by them, you may prove anything ; there is nothing so absurd or so vicious, and at the same time nothing so wise or so virtuous, but may be equally supported and maintained by a proverb or a classical quotation. I have heard a robustious, pen-iwig-pated lecturer, from his chair of state, thunder out — " To be sure, gentlemen, as Ovid says, ' Eara est coneordant'ia fratrum ;" and as the vulgar proverb runs, 'two of a trade can never agree,'" and I have seen the luckless wights scribble the Professor's words with all the eagerness imaginable in their note- books. So I have seen them also within half-an-hour take down such words as these, hot from the mouth of the same great authority — "Unquestionably, the author is right — Phaedrus, you know, has said, ' Simile siinili (jaudet ;' and we have also a correspondent sentiment in our proverb, 'Birds of a feather flock together.'" Most people will 12 FACETI/E CANTABRIGIENSES. (liUiT from inc in this sontiment, I dare say, but I sliall not think it the worse on that account — I had it from my ex- pi'fii'uce. Tlie worst of those men who are sentenced to be lianged at the Old Bailey, are sure to have come of the most /«o«fs/ jiarents ; and then you see there's John Cam, a Radical — his father never taught him this — he had no such example in his yoimger days. I know that Timothy Tickler will say that .sojl substances will receive any im- pression whatever, that the ruder are the more lasting, and that par consequence my last instance is a bad one ; but no matter, let it stand. Well, then, for my own convenience, I will tallow, that "first impressions are always lasting ;" though, upon a second writing, the sentiment seems i-ather contradictory in itself. The fascination of that night's amusement triumphed over the didl and chsgusting routine of Cambridge reading, and I became what they call rather a gay man, instead of a hard reader. I will not say that, had the latter been somewhat more tempting, I should have embraced it; no, I believe that I was naturally inclined to pleasure, and that the bad taste which is so conspicuous in Cambridge studies, merely contributed to increase that tendency, or, at all events, to remove the qualms of conscience whicli affected me when I first abandoned my design of reading. It might, however, have happened without this, and I shall not lay my follies upon a bad system, which has already too much to answer for. The pictures of Ahna Mater, which are to be seen in the Cambridge Calendars, may, for aught I know be very good ones ; and the milk which is there to be perceived flowing from her breasts, may be very good also ; but he must be a sturdy logician indeed, who will convince me that it is at all comparable to the millc-punch which we get from the College butler. FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 13 However, as Stamford's supper hour is not yet arrived, I have time to show that I was not an utter profligate — a naturally ill-disposed renegade, but that I had really some just cause for disliking and abandoning tlie mode of life which I at first made choice of. Nor can I possibly take any surer means to effect this purpose, than by giving the reader a faithful sketch of the life and pursuits of a reading man at Cambridge. He comes up to the University, for the most part, in a pepper-and-salt suit, with blue worsted stockings, high shoes, and a York-tan-glove complexion, with few brains, but with industry and a strong constitution. But what does he read? — The literature of his own country? He scarcely knows his own language. The poets and orators of Greece and Rome, culling their beauties in sentiment and style? — No. Does he peruse the histories of Gi'eece and Rome, and perceive the destructive mania of the peo- ple for what they miscalled Liberty? Does he observe that the Jiherti/ of the nuhject was the sole cause of the ruin and destruction of these classical states, and tliat though they were republics when they fell, it was by the fostering hands of virtuous kings that they were led from barbarism and ignorance, and that it was by the same persons that religion, morality, and the most salutary laws, were esta- blished, both in Greece and Rome, but especially in tlie latter? Does it not occur to him, that though there was a Tarquin at Rome, there was a Codnis* at Athens ; and » Codrus, his history, his virtues, and his patriotism, are forgotten ; but the vices of Tarquin are fresh in the recollection of all popular de- claimers. They take occasion to show in their speeches and declama- tions (even at Cambridge), that monarchy was abolished at Rome on account of the vices of the latter ; but they will not remember why the same form of government was discontinued at Athens. They forget that the only reason assigned is, that the Athenians thought no one worthy to fill the seat of him who had in so gallant a manner sacrificed his life to ensure his subjects a conquest over their enemies. 14 FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. that the patriots of Atlicns and of Rome, if for one moment compared to the Codrns of tlie one, and the Numa Pompi- lius of the other, sink into insignificance and contempt? Does he, I say, "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest" these volumes, speaking facts, and then thank Ood that he lives imder a monarchical government? Certainly not. — He reads Greek and Latin that he may be able to translate it — to bring forward grammatical rules for every turn in the sentence, and to cite parallel passages. This is the only end he has in view. He derives not a single additional idea from the authors he may happen to peruse, nor does he wish to do so. To understand the force of the Greek particles ^^i and zt, &:c. so well as to write down how many times, and in what passage of each classic author, they are to be found, is to him one of the splendid acquirements, be- cause it would ensm-e a high place at the College or Uni- versity examinations. As to classic history, his sole object is to get up pedigrees, and the dates of battles, births, mar- riages, accidents, and offences. That history is " philoso- phy teaching by examples," is a fact entirely unknown to him ; and he never once perceives how many valuable and useful lessons may be drawn, even by the didlest reader, from these far-famed pages ; which, however beautitul they may be, have something yet more interesting and impor- tant to recommend them to om- notice ; for they I'ecord the causes of the ruin of the States of Athens and of Rome, and prove to any man with a grain of comprehension, that re- publicanism Avas then, as it has since been, and as it ever will continue, the ultimate destruction of everj- nation which adopts so dangerous a form of government; and that the people, the liberty-loving populace, when the mastery is theirs, have always been found more arbitrary, and more cnielly unjust, than the veriest despots of the East. But he knows nothing of all tiiis: He is continually told, (and FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 15 he believes it,) that Greece and Rome were the hot-beds of all that -was good, beautiful, and praiseworthy in learning, in morals, and in politics ; — he is sm-e to remember that these were reijublics. There is yet another class of reading men, who never look into a classical book — such are mathematicians, who reftise to believe anything that does not admit of a mathe- matical proof.* They laboiu-, perhaps, more than the classical humdianns above-mentioned, and these two di- visions of literary Frankenstein-monsters, having pursued the same dull routine for three years, become at last wranglers, or first-class-men ; and are then turned loose into civilized society, the -merest automatons, and the most barbarous savages, that ever wore breeches and stood upon two legs. There are, no doubt, many honourable exceptions to the above characters ; but they are like angels' visits, and the plums in school-boys' puddings, — " few and far between ; " and that the generality of them are precisely as I have sketched them, will be denied by few persons who have, like myself, gi-aduated at Cambridge. Now, to be beaten by such men, will not do even at college. The contest, to be sure, is one of constitution, and not of talent ; for the man who can read mathematics for twelve hours a-day, must, though he be ever so great a blockhead, inevitably take a better degree than a man who has tnventy times the talent, but whose constitution will not admit of his reading more than three hours a-day. Upon this subject I have much more to say, but I shall * It is related of a late mathematical professor, that being persuaded by a friend to read Milton's Paradise Lost, he went home one evening, took off his coat, and read it through. His friend asked him if he did not think it very beautiful — "Beautiful!" exclaimed the Professor; " why, it's all asserticm— the fellow does not jjnivc anything from begin- ning to end." 16 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. reserve it till I come to the confession of my peccadilloes in a Cambridge examination. For the present I shall confine myself to the conchision of my day of Initiation — I might have said, of Probation. The soimd of St. Mary's hell aroused me from my me- ditations, and reminded me that the hour of nine was already past. I liastened to Stamford's rooms, and the appearance they exhibited was so singidar, that I almost forgot to ask the owner how he was, and to i-eturn his sa- lutations. Over the mantol-])iece, was the ancient and ever-to-be-rememhered pictiu-c of an incipient Bachelor of Arts, with the words — " Post tot naufragia tutus ; " at the foot of it. This was surmovmted by a pair of foils, single- sticks, and a fowling-piece ; and, as we have no occasion for bells in College, two pair of boxing-gloves usui-jied the place of bell-pulls on either side the fire-place. The card- racks were filled with impositions and chapel retributions.* In the corners of the room were fishing-rods, sticks, and whips of all sorts and of all sizes, from the tandem to the dog-whip. The walls were covered with caricatures and sporting-plates; the floor was strewed with broken cups and torn gowns ; a few neglected books occupied the s])a- cious and dusty shelves, like the people who are left to take care of houses, " the leases of which are to be sold." " Euclid," and " Wood's Algebra," seemed to constitute the whole of Stamford's reading, — "Boxiana," and " Life in London," of course excepted, — these were upon his sofa. Such a chaos, or dust-hole, if the reader will, are the rooms of a gay gownsman. • Impositions are punishments for irregularities, and are sent upon a slip of paper, worded thus—" A or 13 to learn 10(1 lines of Homer, bepinning at line 2-itli of 2I«f Hook." And if a man should not go to chapel the stated number of limes in any one week, he receives a similar slip of pai)cr, desiring him to make up the deficiency in the ensuing week, " By order of the Senior," or "Junior Dean." FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 17 I was not allowed to contemplate this novel sight with- out interruption. Stamford observed my astonishment, and clapping me on the shoulders, exclaimed, " What, spnptoms of being fresh already, Peregi'ine? Pr'ythee, exchange your green coat for duffield, or everybody will perceive that you are but just xip,* and down to nothing. You take no notice of j^our old friends, nor do you seem inclined to give me an ojiportimity of mtroducing you to any new ones." This ceremony concluded, we sat down to supper, and at this distance of time I recollect nothing of it, except that it was extremely good, and very speedily dispatched. The circumstance wliich made the greatest impression upon me, was the appearance of our festive board upon the removal of the cloth. At one end of the table, two enormous bowls of milk-pimch sent forth a delicious odour, which Avas ri- valled by the fumes of two similar l)owls of rum and brandy-punch that graced the other end ; while a A'essel of " magnitude immense," containing bishop, in which nut- megs, cloves, and roasted lemons, were revelUng together, occupied the middle of the table; for the purpose, as it seemed, of preventing the above-mentioned beverages of the same species, but of different genera, from going to loggerheads. Biscuits, olives, pipes, and cigars, were also to be seen, not to mention whiskey, wine, and other liquors, in case any one preferred them to punch. I am happy to say, there was no such Goth present. To describe the jovial and noisy revelry of that night, would be impossible. The reader may easily conceive that it was not altogether orthodox, and yet I must confess, that I thought it the happiest of my life; nay — I still look back • Coming to the University, is called coming up, and leaving it, going down. The silly and contemptible slang of being down, is too well known to be explained here. 18 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. ii])on it with pleasure, and with my mouth watering. l')vcrybo(ly was agreeable — all (hating the songs) was har- mony — all good fellowship, and amusement. Each man had his jokes, his songs, and his pvms, and if the daemon of Discord had joined the ])arty h/ propria persona, I verily believe, that his influence would have been lost — his pesti- lential breath imcontaminating, and himself the only im- plcasant person in the company. The only ndes and regulations which I thought at .ill likely to create disturbance (but which, by the by, there was no occasion to enforce — everybody understood and confoi-med to them), were those of making each person sing in his turn, " whether he could or not;" and of insist- ing upon every one putting his glass into his pocket before he replenished it. The latter institute, they informed me, •was for the purpose of preventing any gentleman shirking, or filling upon heel-taps. This certainly appeared to me very like compelling a man cither to get drunk or to spoil his coat ; and the law is not altogether consistent (as some have asserted) with the term " Liberty Hall," which is usually applied to a gownsman's room. But I cannot by any means agree with these persons. The word Liherti/ is properly understood by very few indeed. Men have taken it into their heads that it means " doing just as you like," and therefore, that it is the best and most desirable thing in the world. Now, I should like to empty my wash-hand- basin upon the heads of such persons, and tell them that / liked it, and that they ought not to gnmible, because " Libert ji " is " doing as one likes." The fact is, that this definition is meicly an individual, a selfish one, and inad- missible, because it will not apply to the community at large. Liberty is, properly speaking, the indulgence of one's inclination, so far as it is unannoying and unpreju- dicial to one's neighbour. There can be no objection to a FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 19 man's burning his own house, provided that it stands upon his own property, and at a proper distance from the goods and chattels of other persons ; but I should think it ex- tremely unpleasant, if the flames were to spread to mine, and if my sum total of eartlily possessions were to be sa- crificed to his Nero-like penchant for bonfires. Moreover, I should as soon think of passing the taxes when the col- lector called, as I should of passing my glass at a drinking- bout. It is unreasonable to refuse contributing your share towards defraying the expenses of the government of the countiy in which you have the privilege of residing ; and it is (as I, a sturdy stickler, think) equally foolish to re- flise to quaff your share of the liquor. If you do not like these things, go and live with Yankees, and never join a bacchanalian revel. I can tell you, gentle reader, that if I be king, or president (I don't mean an American, but a drinking censor), you shall pay your taxes, and di-ink your wine; or, I'll put you in prison in the one case, and give you salt and water in the other. I would do this out of respect to the interests of the community. Do you sup- pose that the rest of your countrymen are to pay your taxes, or that the remainder of your companions are to drink your liquor ? — But I must return to the party, or I shall be fined a bumper; notwithstanding this digression has been solely for the edification of the reader, in his civil and political opinions. I have very little more to confess respecting the events of that memorable evening. The reader will doubtless already have anticipated that I was in some degree in- debted to the good offices of my friends for reaching my domicile in safety. The only excuse that I can offer for this offence is, that I was a brute ;* and it is the invariable • Brute— I do not mean because I was drunk, as the worthy Mr. Col- man has said, " a drunkard fellow is a brute's next neighbour ;" but be- c 2 20 FACETI/E CANTABRIGIENSES. custom at College to make such persons drink themselves into the acquaintance of senior and junior sojjIis. About three o'clock in the morning we separated. Stam- ford and his gyp let us carefully down into the street by means of two blankets, which, for aught I know, formed as good a staircase as ever carpenter made in this world. This was not absolutely necessary ; we might have made our exit by the gate, in the usual way, but a tender solicitude for the cliaracter of our host iiuluced us to risk spoiling our own (jait, instead of using that of the College. The repu- tation of having parties to so late an hour is not altogether the way to keep on good terms with the " higher powers " (vulgo Dons) ; nor is it over advisable, because, if one shoidd happen to get into any serious sci'ape, previous good cha- racter, and regularity, would have as much influence with the Vice-chancellor at Cambridge, as it would with a jury at the Old Bailey. To conclude, however, for the present — we reached our respective rooms in safety, nor do I recollect that any par- ticular mischief was committed by the way. One man, indeed, upon whom the punch had made more impression than the rest, took down the sign of the " Blue Boar," and hung it over the gate of St. John's ;* and, as we passed down Jesus' Lane, another committed a depreda- tion upon a board, with " men-traps set here" upon it, and fastened the same to the dwelling of two maiden ladies. cause, in the eyes of college-men, I was so esteemed, whether drunk or sober. A gownsman is called a brute, till he is matriculated ; — from that time, till the end of his first year, he is a Fi-esh-mnn — then a junior soph — and, finally, a senior soph. Soph is said to be derived from c-oio; a wise man, and so is lucus, ti non luceiidu, together with parcte d non parcendo, — Vide Ainsworth, Lcmpriere, «Sic. ad verb. • The men of St. John's College are thirty-six, called " Johnian Hogs." The cause of this appellation has never been satisfactorily explained. FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 21 THE CONFESSIONS OF A CANTAB. No. II. I AM extremely happy to hear* that my Confessions have already performed very essential services at Cam- bridge, and that they have worked miracles upon the reading part of the " Gentlemen of the first year," who made their appearance at that University in October last. I miderstand that not one of them has dared to accept an invitation to a supper party — that they actually hold their noses and take to their heels if one of the gyps shoidd happen to pass them with a bowl of punch— and that Pere- grine Mohray is inscribed in large letters over each of their mantel-pieces. " For what purpose?" the reader will perhaps ask. — Why, I am credibly informed by divers Masters of Arts, Fellows, and Private Tutors, that if the eyes of their pupils, wandering from mathematic lumber, should chance to fall upon my name, their devotion for circles, squares, sines, tangents, and id genus omne, is in- stantly re-kindled and revived, and that they apply them- selves to their labours with renewed vigour ; in fact, that the very mention of me has become a complete bug- bear and scare-crow to indolence and convivial parties among reathng men of every year and of eveiy college, and I should not indeed be at all sui-prised if the Dons * I take this opportunity of acknowledging the receipt of divers letters, directed to " Peregrine Mobray, Esq." Masters, Fellows, and Tutors, have written to me, begging me to continue these papers, as zealously, and in much the same style, as the Ordinary of Newgate exhorts criminals before the Debtors' Door to confess all they know. Sisters, maiden aunts, and blue-stocking matrons, write, with tears in their eyes, hoping and trusting that my conduct will be a warning to their dear Thomases, Johns, &c. (Freshmen, I suppose) ; while some of my old college c<)m]ranions have congratulated me upon " jnitting the Brutei up to a thing or ttvo." 22 FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. were to offer me a Fellowship for the sake of calling nie into residence, and exliibiting me as a warning to all in- ci])ient reading men. Poor Ferret has written nic a most doleful epistle, beginning with " () kruel sur," in which he informs me that he is ruined, (or, as he writes, that his " bred is deprived of im, and his liveleud gorn,") — that no one will take the rooms which I occvipied, and that my Con- fessions have made so great an impression upon the reading men, that one of them actually broke a poor Frenchman's liead with the new edition of Maltby's Thesaurus (in quarto) for exhibiting the wooden Punch under his window. I have desired a man of my acquaintance to move into the rascal's rooms immediately ; and I have forwarded him ten pounds, as I told him, by way of douceur, for "showing liim up in print," as he calls it; and my worthy landlord has said, that if all dowsers were like that, he would have a set- to every day of his life. My gyp, who was also a Ferret, (in word and deed,) has not forgotten to favom- me with an epistle also, telUng me that he "don't want no blunt, but he hopes that I wont think of telling the story of Hebe and Ganymede" With his request, however, I certainly cannot think of complying. The story, which he is so anxious about, is far too good to be consigned to oblivion. It is simply this — I found him one day very tipsy, with his face dreadfliUy scratched, and his eyes in mourning (as it seemed) for the loss of two of his front teeth. Upon in- quiry, it turned out that he had had the misfortune to learn to read — to obtain a translation of Anacrcon — and to em- brace the doctrines of the Teian bard. Nor did his troubles end here. He actually mistook the gin and water at the Vine Tavern for the "juice of the grape" in Anacreon — and was prompted, on the day in question, by his evil genius, to call the waiter Ganymede, and the bar- maid his fat little Hebe. Neither of these personages, however. FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 23 appear to have understood the compliment, for the waiter assauUed poor Ferret most fiiriously, swearing that "^e would not be called names by a damned gyp like him," — and the bar-maid, declaring, with tears in her eyes, that it was a vile calmnny, joined the fray, tooth and nail, and told liini that " she would teach a scrub like him to call an honest girl his fat little He — b — h." But to leave these coi-respondents, and attend to com- munications from a more respectable quarter, I must inform the reader, that, notwithstanding the favour with which my Confessions have been received by many of the Dons, there has been some fault found with me for not tracing my decline and fall gradually, instead of plunging at once in medias res. By these means — by thus detailing the sjTnptoms of the disease — I might, I am told, have put all Freshmen on their guard against the inroads of the same. " It is a complaint that should be checked very early in its career," observes the author of the letter in which this sug- gestion is contained. Now, if that gentleman, whom I take to be one of the Professors of Medicine, (and who appears to regret that I have not compiled a kind of " Bu- chan's Domestic Medicine," for the use of imder graduates) mean to insinuate that I was one of that munerous class of Freshmen who read themselves pui-blind during the hrst term, and are then estranged from the orthodox path by some evil-disposed person or persons unknown, — he is altogether mistaken. My apostacy was not, in my opinion, owing to any dislike to fair and manly study, but to the style of Cambridge reacUng, (which I have faithfully de- scribed in my former paper,) and to a very violent attack of fjia,9titJiMTmo-fo&a, wliicli I never could get the better of I tried the object of my dread as in hydropliobia ; but, God bless you, gentle reader, it made me ten times worse. For the benefit of my last-mentioned correspondent, I will state 24 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. my case as faithfttJUj, and, for the sake of my readers, in as few words, as possible. I came up to Cambridge with the intention of reading for Honours ; — my first night's debauch certainly made me waver, but soda water and a red her- ring* would in all probability have restored me to my good resolutions on the following morning, had not the first ma- tliematical lecture disgusted me, and had not I made the discovery that my classics would be of little or no use, if unaccompanied by a very extensive stock of mathematics, which I always detested. So nuich, then, for my apostacy from the faith, which I had the misfortune to hear preached /p« terms at Cam- bridge, viz. that " the chief end of man was to le.arn ma- thematics." As to the follies I committed, and the scrapes I got into, during my under-graduateship, the reader may attribute them to what he pleases. For my own part, I shoidd think that an unlucky propensity for mischief, and a great deal of time upon my hands, are causes as likely to have produced such effects as any that can be assigned. And now, having dispatched my correspondents, I will, with the reader's permission, resume the thread of my dis- course, and continue my confessions from the last Number of Mr. Ebony's excellent Magazine — that periodical of periodicals. When I awoke in the morning, I had but a confused and vague recollection of the events of the preceding evening. A\'hilo hurrying on my clothes, I endeavoured to bring to mind how, and when, I got home ; but my attempts were vain — my retrospective optics were completely j^ttnvhcd out, and I contented myself with discovering that I liad at least reached my rooms in safety. However, as I awoke in time for morning chapel (seven o'clock), I conceived * The doctrine at Cambridge is, that soda-water and a red-herring will sober any one. I rather doubt it. FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 25 that I could not have been i^ery tipsy,* although my parched lips and flushed cheeks seemed to insinuate the contrary. My cogitations and my dress completed, I went to chapel for the first time — found the men half-dressed — quite asleep (some stretched at full length upon the benches) — and the reader galloping through the service « toide bride. I supposed that he had either wagered to get over the prayers in ten minutes — (such things have been) — or, that he was paid as some journeymen carpenters are, by the piece, and not by the hour. But the actual reason for his indecorous speed was, I apprehend, that he, in common with his auditors, was anxious to get to bed again — a very common practice among collegemen, and, more- over, a very pleasant one. No man can possibly under- stand and relish the luxury of bed, if he have never half dressed himself — ran out for a quarter of an hour, or ten minutes — felt all the shivering misery of getting up — and then indulged himself by going to his warm bed again. This for the winter. In summer, if the reader would taste a second sleep in perfection, let him jump out of bed (will-he nil-he), wash his hands and face, and then, returning to the place from whence he came, compose himself again to slumber. I am aware that many persons have not resolu- tion enough to follow these prescriptions, and they are very much to be pitied — and the only substitute for the above luxuries which I can recommend them, is to order them- selves to be called every half hour from seven o'clock till teii, to reflect upon the misery of getting up for one minute, • For the benefit of the unsophisticated (meaning, of course. Fresh- men), the term drunk is too often misapplied. If a man, after being put to bed, retain sense enough to hold by the sheets, it is unfair and ungenerous to call him drunk. He may be tipx;/, hnxlcy, cut, or anything but ilriink. If, however, he be so far bereaved of all sense as to roll out of bed as fast as you put him in, I am afraid that he must then lie under the stigma of being drunk. 26 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. and then turn round again and go to sleep. If the morning should happen to be frosty, let them, by all means, put their toes out of bed for a moiiient or two, just long enough to feel tlie cold, and then draw them in again. But, to leave men and sleeping in general, and to confine myself to Cambridge in particular, the reader must be iiifonued, that Cantabs are compelled to leave their warm beds at seven o'clock every dark M'inter's morning, to go to chapel, whereby they run the risk of breaking their shins against the scrapers as they run along the streets — to say nothing of catching cold from the Cambridge fogs, which ai'e as heavy as matliematicians, and as damp as horse- ponds. These are the men for a second sleep. Dming my stay in chapel, I was particularly struck by the altar-piece, which was perpetrated, I believe, by West — perhaps when he was drunk, or very bilious — and while I contemplated the gaudy daub, which is as tasteless in design as it is unskilful in execution, I was completely at a loss which to admire most — the extremely good opinion which the artist must have had of his own productions before he coidd expose sucli a painting to the public eye, or the good-natured simplicity of the persons who suffered Trinity Chapel to be the scene of the exposure. Tliese worthy gentlemen, whoever they may happen to have been, were certainly men after Sterne's own heart, "who would be pleased, they knew not why, and cared not wherefore." The painting is supposed to represent the Archangel Michael (or some other of those angelic conmianders, who are indebted to Milton for their connnissions) in the act of thrusting Satan into the bottomless pit. This task, which does not appear to be by any means an easy one, Michael is performing by goading the swarthy Cjesar-aut-nilii! on the head with a spear. West could not surely have sup- posed that, FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 27 " Finding no hole in his coat. He j)ick'd one in his head," If such were really his opinion, our artist's acquaintance with ecclesiastical history must have been very confined indeed. The devil is described in the picture as a yellow, middle-aged, ill-looking kind of personage. His shoidders are adorned with small black wuigs, and his mouth with large white teeth, like a cliimney-sweeper's, both of which make so formidable a display, that one feels inclined to ad\-ise Michael to look to his toes, which are situated much nearer his Satanic majesty's mouth than prudence would suggest. Talking, by the by, of the devil, it has often struck me as a very extraordinary circumstance, that poets and painters shoidd have entertained such various and con- flicting ideas of the person of that individual ; and, in this place, one is particularly amused if one compares the re- presentation of him on canvas, by West, with the descrip- tion of liim in poetry, by the celebrated scholai** whose effigy is situated at the other end of the chapel. Some idea of the former's porti'aiture has been given — the latter nms thus : — From his brimstone bed, at break of day, The Devil's a-wa!king gone ; To visit his snug little farm on the earth, And see how his stock there goes on. And over the hill and over the dale He rambled, and over the plain ; And backwards and forwards he switch'd his long tail. As a gentleman switches his cane. " And pray now, how was the Devil dress'd ?" — " Oh, he was in his .Sunday's best : His coat it was red, and his breeches were blue. With a hole behind, which his tail went through." The reader may laugh — but want of knowledge as to the person of the devil is no subject for merriment ; — tlie • Professor Person. 28 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. matter ought to be looked into, and some accurate infor- mation upon this point should be obtained. It would be impossible for any good Christian to recognise him now, even if he were to cross his path. The Wliigs, when they have done with Missionary Smith, will perhaps turn their attention to this negligence on the part of Ministers. After the share they took it that business, it will be (jiiite impos- sible for tlicni to loicrr themselves in the opinion of the countrj' ; and as Parliament is about to be dissolved, it will make a very excellent finale for them — (and if they do not inrenf something, God knows what they can find to prate about !) Not to mention that it will furnish one of the best examples extant of Ba9o; in Whig speechery. Tlie reader has perhaps been supposing all this time, that it has escaped my memory that Horace had told the Pisos, — ' pictoribus atque poelis Quidlibet audendi semper fuit a;qua potestas." But it lias not ; I recollect it very well, only I deny the truth of his observation, and cannot help thinking that this luckless line and a half has brought more hot-pressed duo- decimo volumes of poetry upon the public, than all the gold-beaters and chandler-shop-keepers in the united king- dom will get rid of by Doomsday. I have rather bolted from the course, I believe, in the last sentence or two ; but as I had to confess that I was rather amused than eiUJied at chapel, it was perhaps worth wliile to give a reason for the wickedness that was in me. I will now proceed. The service concluded, I hastened home for the purpose of breakfasting and preparing for lectures. The reader will judge with what smiirise I contemplated my domicile, wliich I found so completely metamoq)hoscd, that I scarcely knew it again. Divers holes were bored in my mantel- FACETI-E CANTABRIGIENSES. 29 piece, and a red-hot poker was lying in the middle of my carpet ; my books, which I had arranged with so much care and trouble on the preceding day, were in utter dis- order ; my sofa was torn ; the frame of my looking-glass studded with cards, bearing the names of men I never heard of; and But to describe all the changes that had taken place during my short absence would be impossible, and I shall merely iurnish one more subject in the picture — My gjTp was busily employed in scratching my beauti- fully varnished tea-caddy with a penknife ! Of coiu-se I should not long have continued a silent spectator of the scene, even if Ferret had not broken si- lence with, " Hope you an"t the worse for last night's work, Sir?" — persevering, at the same time, with the greatest industry in demolishing my tea-caddy, and turning the edge of my penknife. — " As to last night's work," I re- plied, " I recollect very little about it ; but whatever harm I may happen to have sustained from that, this mornings work seems likely to turn out much more injurious. Why don't you put down the knife? — what the devil do you mean by desti-oying the things in that manner? Put down the biife, I say, and tell me instantly who has been amusing himself with tearing my sofa, decorating my rooms with the cards of men I never spoke to in my life, and" "Wlio, Sir?" interrupted Ferret,— " come, that's a good un— Who, Sir ?— Why, who should it be but my- self? —all my own. Sir, upon my" "Your own, you scoundrel, you ! — and how dare you?" "Dare! — come, that's a good un — dare! — Oh, oh! I see how it is — you don't recollect what you told me last night, sir, eh?— Cut to the ?t"'*— pretty goings on for a Freshman, sir; Lord, how cut you must have been!" * Cut to the n'>', means infinitely cut. 30 FACETI.^ CANTABRIGIENSES. " Cut!" I exclaimed, looking in the glass, " cut — where?" Ferret grinned. More than ever enraged with the incomprehensible dog, I seized him hy the collar, declaring, that if he did not in- stantly explain the meaning of what I saw, I would break every bone in his skin. " Well, sir," replied Ferret, " be patient, and I'll tell you all about it. You see, sir, when you came home last night, I let you in, and lighted you up to your room. Well, sir, I see directly that you were tipsy like — or, as we say, ctit ; and says I to you, Do you want anything to-night, sir? With that you seizes me by the collar, as you did just now, and says — Fen-et, says you, if you don't make my rooms like a senior Soph's, I'll break your head for you; and if I find anything fresli about them when I get uj) in the morn- ing, I'll cut your throat for you. Well, you see, sir, I did as you said. As to the sofa being torn a little, why. Lord bless you, sir! it may as well be done now as not — you'll be sure to get a hole or two in it at the first wine party you give ; — and then you see, sir, it looks knowing like to have plenty of cards stuck in your glass, 'cause it's like a gay man ; and, as I didn't know the names of your friends, I took the liberty o' putting them up there till I found 'em out." — By this time I had been enabled to give a pretty shrewd guess at my condition on the preceding night, and replied, " Well, well, Fen-et, I cannot contradict you— perhaps I did tell you so; but why deface the tea-caddy?" " Lord, sir, this an't a face — I an't been a-di-awing no faces on it — Look here, sir, I've writ doces." " Doccs? and what is the meaning of doces?" " My eyes, sir! don't you know the meaning of doces?— vihy doces is the Latin for Thou 7\'ii-r/tcst* — I've heard a great • The late Lord Etskine is said to have been the author of this pun execrable. FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 31 many gentlemen say so, and seen 'em write it on their tea- caddies too — though some on 'em certainly prefers hcec canis — can't say I understand the meaning of that — Do you, sir?" " Make me some bitch* directly," was my re- ply — Fen-et disappeared. Breakfast is unquestionably a very pleasant thing to the principals, but as I am not yet convinced that its interest extends to the looker-on, I shall take the liberty of request- ing the reader to accompany me at once to the lectiu-e- rooni, — supposing that I have already crammed myself with eggs, toast, coffee, and the first five propositions in Euclid. And here I must be allowed to remark once for all, that if I should seem to pass from one place to another somewhat too rapidly, it is because the intervening events are either unimportant or uninteresting. " Aid iHj'itur res in sceitis, aid acta refertur," which, for the benefit of mathematicians, I translate, " events are either related to the reader, or he is to suppose them to have taken place." I reached the door of the lecture-room about five mi- nutes before the appointed time. — This work of superero- gation in the duties of punctuality, most men are guilty of for the first week, — but they soon get the better of it. There I foimd some fifty or sixty "gentlemen of the first year," looking so fresh, so neat, and so dreadfidly nervous, or so superlatively impudent, that I never recollect to have witnessed a more amusing spectacle than was presented to me in contemplating the different expressions of coimte- nance and of manner with which my fellow-sufferers en- tered upon the first lecture. — Cest le premier pas qui coute, in the university career, as well as in walking six leagues after having undergone the vmpleasant operation of decapi- • The word tea is never used at Cambridge. It is always called bitch- 32 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. tation. Tlie clock struck nine — no one stirred — each man appeared to have an insuperable objection to be ihc first to enter the lecture-room. For my own part I wished the matter over, and putting my hand upon the latch, a dozen officious gentlemen indicated their inclination to do the same thing. We entered, and I had leisure to take a more complete survey of my companions. In the countenances of a few was depicted all that agitation which bespoke the diffidence of their character, and a dread of making a worse appearance than the rest ; others exhibited an easy care- lessness, which resulted from the confidence of their being what is called well np u'ith their subjects; — while another class of men displayed in every act, in every feature, that unblushing boldness which was inspired by the conscious- ness that they knew nothing about the subjects, and, what is more, that they did not wish to know anythiny about thetn. The latter class of individuals come up to the Varsity, (as they would tenn it,) with the professed intention of being varmint* men, and if they be not expelled before the period of their under-graduateship is expired, they will in all probability leave the finest feathers in their caps a prey to those ruthless gentlemen called moderators; — or, in other words, they will stand a very good chance of being plucked. These persons amuse themselves in the lecture- room by telling good stories — writing droll verses — drawing caricatures — and, in fact, by exerting their utmost skill for the pui-pose of distracting the attention of some hard reader who has the misfortune to be seated near them. But the ne plus ultra of their ambition is to make some poor wretch • " Varmint men.'" The reader is particularly requested not to con- found varmint with t'o.v men. The former are slang men. Badger-bait- ing and cock fighting form their most favourite pleasures. The latter indulge in the sports of the field, in convivial parties, balls, &c., and are, generally speaking, gentlemen. FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. ,33 burst into a fit of laughter while he is in the midst of de- monstrating a proposition in mathematics, or construing some very affecting passage in a Greek tragedy. The lat- ter they affect by an extemporaneous parody, or a doggrel version of the lines wliich the unfortimate object of their pleasantry may happen to be translating. The former, too, is managed in much the same way. It is done by bur- lesquing the problems which are given out by the tutor for solution. I recollect finding myself seated by one of those facetious gentlemen whose opposite neighbour, a lank- haired, sallow-looking Freshman, of a very studious and se- date cast, begged that he would be kind enough to favom- him with the last question proposed by the Tutor ; assiu-ing him at the same time how sorry he was co trouble him. The individual to whom this inquiry was addressed, replied, with a degree of gravity unparalleled even in the annals of stoicism, that he was not exactly sure, but that he beheved it to be an equation involving one unknown quantity, and that to the best of his recollection it ran thus : — " Given, the dimensions of a ship, the weight of her cargo, and the surname of the first mate, to find the chris- tian name of the owners." This was copied with the greatest rapidity, and many thanks by the inquirer, who, for tlie first two or three minutes, was unable to detect the joke. When he did discove'r it, the look of mingled shame and anger which he darted at his infonuant beggars all de- scription. I was greatly amused by it — almost as much as by the blunder which another ill-starred Freshman com- mitted on the same day. In demonstrating, viva voce, a proposition of Euclid, he had the ill luck to meet with the expression, "■produce the straight line K toL:"~t\ie ill luck, I say, because this gentleman happened to come from London, and by a dreadful /apsus liiilaining of the shortness of his sermon, an- swered, " Sire, could I have bestowed more time upon it, it would not have been so lone !" THE POST-BOY. Dr. Roger Long, the famous astronomer, walking one dark evening with Mr. Bonfoy, in Cambridge, and the latter coming to a short post fixed in the pavement, which in the earnestness of conversation he took to be a boy standing in his way, said hastily, " Get out of my way, boy!" "That boy. Sir," said the doctor very drily, "is a post-boy, who never tiu-ns out of his way for anybody." PUNNINCx Was, at least, no crime in the days of the first Stuarts : neither kings nor nobles were above it. The great Lord Bacon was reduced to sucli extreme poverty towards the latter end of his life, that he wrote to James the First, for assistance, in these words : — " Help me, dear sovereign lord and master, and pity me so far, that I, who have been born to a bay, be not now in my age forced in efiect to bear a wallet ; nor that I, who desire to live to study, may be driven to study to live." The following, in a letter to Prince Charles, may not be so pardonable, par- ticularly from so great a man : — wherein he hopes, " that, as the father was his creator, the son will be his re- deemer." TFIE POKER AND TONGS. Porson's company, as may well be supposed, was H 98 FACETiyE CANTABRIGIENSES. courted liy all ranks, from the combination-room to the cider-cellar, for he mixed with all, and was to be found in both ; and it was who shoidd assist at his evening lectures, and who should carry away most fi-om the oracle. But sometimes it would happen, as it does to most men, that he was bedevilled, and, pulling a book out of his pocket, read only to himself ; at other times he was violent, and, catching the poker out of the fire, brandished it over his head, to the terror of the compan\'. Of this trick, how- ever, he was cured, once for all, by a spark of fighting notoriety, who, on seeing Porson seize the poker, and not being used to a furious Greek, but in the play, snatched up the tonf/.t, observing, two could play at that game. Upon this, the professor, with a sneer of his own, said, " I believe, if I should crack your skull, I shoidd find it very empty." " And if I should break your head," replied the Irishman, " I should find it full of maggots." This retort pleased Porson so nuich, that he retui-ned the poker to the fire, and rejjeated a whole chapter of Roderick Random, analogous to the affair. " EVER SINCE HE WAS A PUPPY." There was a coffee-room at the principal inn where Stenie resided, about the time he wrote his " Tristram Shandy," where gentlemen who frequented the house might read the newspapers ; one of the greatest enjoy- ments of Sterne's life was spending an inoffensive hour in a snug corner of his room. There was a troop of horse at that time quartered in the town ; one of the officers was a gay young man, spoiled by the free intercourse of the world, but not destitute of good qualities. This young gentleman was remarkable for his freedom of speech, and pointed reflections on the clergy. Yorick was often obliged to hear toasts he coidd not approve, and conversations FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 99 shocking to the ear of deUcacy, and was frequently under the necessity of removing his seat, or pretending deafness. The captain, resolving this conduct sliould no longer avail him, seated himself by Yorick, so as to prevent his retreat, and immediately began a profane, indecent tale, at the expense of the clerical profession, with liis eyes stedfastl_v fixed on Yorick, who pretended not to notice liis ill manners ; when that became impossible, he turned to the military intruder, and gravely said, " Sir, I'll tell you my story. My father is an officer, and is so brave himself, that he is fond of every thing else that is brave, even his dog. You must know we have at this time one of the finest creatures of his kind in the world, the most spirited, yet the best-natured that can be imagined ; so lively that he charms everybody ; but he has a cursed trick that throws a shade over all his good qualities." " Pray, what may that be ?" interrogated the officer : " He never sees a cler- gjTiian, but he instantly flies at him," answered Yorick. " How long as he had that trick?" " Why, Sir," rephed the divine, " ever since he was a puppy!" The man of war for once blushed, and, after a pause, said, " Doctor, I thank you for your hint : give me your hand ; I will never rail at a parson again." HEBREW. A Cantab, when on a tour in the country, chanced to enter a strange church, and after he had been seated some little time, another person was ushered into the same pew with him. The service had proceeded till the psalms were about to be read, when the stranger pulled out of his pocket a prayer-book, and offered to share it with the Cantab, though he perceived he had one in liis hand. This generosity, the Cantab perceived, proceeded from a mere ostentatious display of his learning, as it proved to be in H 2 100 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. Latin ; and he immediately declined the otter by saying, " Sir, I read notliing but Hebrew V THE WHITE LION. The llev. George Harvest accompanied his patron into France, and during the necessary deliiy at some post-town, rambled after a bookseller's shoj), and found one. There he amused himself awhile with his favourite conjpanions, but at last rettected that his friends were in haste to depart, and might })e nuich incommoded by his stay. He had forgot the name of the inn, and to expect him to find the road, merely because he had travelled it before, was to expect that TheHcns shoidd unravel the Da-dalean labyrinth with the thread of Ariadne. Not a word of French could Harvest speak to be imderstood ; but he recollected the sign of the inn was a lion ; still how to make the book- seller comprehend this was the difficulty. Harvest, how- ever, tall and sturdy, raised himself, to the no small teiTor of the bookseller, with projected and curvetting arms, into the foniiidable attitude of a lion-rampant ; and succeeded at length, by this happy effort, in suggesting to the imagi- nation of the staring Erenchman the idea of a lion ! But another difficulty, of a more arduous nature, now presented itself; there were black, red, and white lions; of which last colour was the lion in (juestion. Now, no two-footed creature imder the sun could less exemplify the following maxim, — " That cleanliness is next to godliness," than the hero of this adventure ; for Harvest was habitually very slovenly in his person. However, to complete the aggregate, and impress the idea, not of a linn only, but of a white-lion, upon the sensorium of Monsieur, Harvest un- buttoned his waitcoat and displayed his shirt : but, alas / like the mulberry-tree of old, — " Qui color albus erat nunc est contrarius albo." FACET17E CANTABRIGIENSES. 101 Tliis would have thrown but little light upon the subject, liad not the polite Frenchman put a right construction upon the case, and extricated poor Harvest from liis difficulty by a safe conveyance to — tue wuite lion ! BILL PAID IN FULL. At Wimpole, formerly the seat of Lord Oxford, but now of Lord Hardwicke, there was to be seen a portrait of Mr. Harley, the speaker, in his robes of office. Tlie active part he took to forward the bill to settle the crown on the house of Hanover, induced him to have a scroll painted in his hand, bearing the title of that bill. Yet, soon after George the First arrived in England, Ilai-ley was sent to the Tower. This circumstance being told to Prior, whilst he was viewing the portrait, he took a pencil out of his pocket, and wrote on the white part of the scroll the date of the day on which Harley was committed to the Tower, and under it, — " THIS BILL PAID IN FULL." GRAY, The poet, wrote the following character of himself, which was found in a pocket-book after his death : — " Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, He had not the method of making a fortune : Could love and could hate, so was thought somewhat odd, No very great wit, — he believed in a God; A post or a pension he did not desire, But left church and state to Charles Townshend and Squire. EPIGRAM. Person, one day visiting his brother-in-law, Mr. P , who at that time lived in Lancaster Court, in the Strand, ^ 102 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. found him indisposed, and under tlie influence of medicine. On returning to tlio liouse of a connnon friend, he, of covn'se, expected to l)e asked after the liealth of his relation. After waiting witli jjhilosophic patience, without the expected question being proposed, he reproached tlie company for not giving liim an opportunity of giving the following answer, which he had composed in his walk : — " My Lord of Lancaster, when late I came from it. Was taking a medicine of names not a few ; In Greek an emetic, in Latin a vomit. In Enghsh a puke, and in Vulgar a sp — w." LATIMER, The pious and learned martyr, and Bishop of Worces- ter, who was educated at Christ College, Cambridge, and was one of the first refomiers of the chiu'ch of England, at a controversial conference, being out-talked by younger divines, and out-argued by those who were more studied in the fathers, said, " I cannot talk for my religion, but I am ready to die for it." WHITE TEETH. Professor Saunderson, who occupied so disting\iised a situation in the L-nivcrsity of Cambridge, as that of Lucasian Professor of Mathematics, was quite blind. Happening, on a time, to make one in a large party, he remarked of a lady, who had just left the room, but whom he had never before met, nor heard of, that she had very white teeth. The company were anxious to learn how he had discovered this, which was very true. " I have reason," observed the professor, " to believe that the lady is not a fool, and I can think of no other motive for her laughing incessantly, as she did for a whole hour toge- ther." FACETIjE cantabkigienses. 103 JOHNIAN HOG. Tlie following, amongst other reasons, is given as the orighi of the students of St. John's College being deno- minated hogs. A waggish genius espying a coffee-house waiter carrying a dish to a Johnian, who was seated in another box in the same coffee-house, asked, " if it were a dish of grains !" The Johnian immediately rephed,— « Says , the Johns eat grains; suppose it true, They pay for what they eat ; does he so too !" " TU ES PORCUS." There is a custom in the University of Cambridge of huddl'mg, as it is called, or keeping an act, after the degree of A.B. is conferred. It so happened that a gentleman had to keep one, whose name was Hogg, under a moderator who was of St. John's College, the men of which college had obtained the appellation of Johnian hogs, as have the men of Trinity the appellation of hull-dogs ; and maiiy other names are applied to the men of the different colleges, for the origin of which there is little but traditional evidence. On Mr. Hogg's mounting the rostrum, he was addressed by the moderator, " Tu es porcus," (thou art a hogg.) To which Mr. Hogg retorted, " Sed nunegrege j)orcorum," (but not of the herd of hogs). NOVEL CONSTRUCTION OF A PAIR OF BELLOWS. At an examination in the Senate House, Cambridge, one of the questions given was, " to construct a pair of common bellows;" to which one of the students gave the following laconic answer: — " A pipe, two boards, a piece of leather, and a hole to put your knee in." 104 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. BACON. Sir Nicholas, who was educated at Corpus Christi, or Benet College, Cambridge, being visited at his house by Queen Eliz;il)eth, she observed, alhiding to his corpulency, " tliat he liad built his house too little for him." " Not so, Madam," answered lie ; " but your majesty has made me too big for my house." PALEY'S CONCEPTION OF THE CHARACTER FALSTAFF. Paley, when young, was p.u-ticularly fond of theatrical exhibitions, especially when any eminent performer ap- peared from the metropolis on the provinciiil boards near where he resided. This predilection never forsook him. In a provincial theatre, he always seated himself as near as possible to the front of the centre box. Conversing about the character of Fahtaff, as delineated by Shakspeare, he remarked, " that amongst actors it was frequently misun- derstood : he was a courtier of the age he lived in ; a man of vivacity, humour, and wit; a great reprobate, but no buffoon." VALUE OF NOTHING. Porson was no less distinguished for his wit and humour, during his residence in Cambridge, than for his profound learning ; and he would frequently divert himself by send- ing quizzical morceanx, in the shape of notes, to his com- panions. He one day sent his gyp with a note to a certain Cantab, who is now a D.D., and Master of his College, requesting him to find the value of nothing .' Next day he met his friend walking, and, stopjjing him, he desired to know, " Whether he had succeeded ?" His friend answered — " Yes !" " And what mav it be ?" asked Porson : FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 105 " sixpence .'" replied the Cantab, " wliicli I gave the man for bringing the note." SERMON. Dr. Dodd's sermon, which was preached to some Cam- bridge scholars extempore, from a hollow tree : — (Copied from an old Tract.) The following sermon was made and preached ex- tempore by one Parson Dodd, who lived within three or four miles of Cambridge, and who having for nigh half a year, every Sunday, preached on the same subject, wliicli was drunkenness, gave some of the Cambridge scholars occasion to be displeased with him, who thought he reflected upon them, they resolved to be even with the doctor when an opportunity shoidd offer. Accordingly, chance one day led the doctor in tlieir way : a company of scholars being walking, they saw the doctor some way off, coming towards them, and, all stopping at a gate that hung to a hollow tree, the doctor presently came up, and they spoke very friendly to him. " Your servant, Mr. Dodd." " Your servant, gentlemen." "Sir, we liave one question to ask j'ou." "What is that, gentlemen?" "Why, we hear you have preached a long time against the sin of drunkenness." "I have, gentlemen." "Then, doctor, we have one request you must and shall satisfy us in." " What is that, gentlemen ?" " Why, that you preach us a sermon from a text that we shall choose for you." "Ap- point your time and place, gentlemen, and I will do it." " The time is present, and the place is here, and that hollow tree shall be your pulpit." " That's a compulsion, gentle- men ; a man ought to have time to consider what he is to preach." They insisted on a compliance, or they would use him ill; not minding any expostulations from the 106 FACETI/E CANTABRIGIENSES. doctor, tliey accordingly forced him into the hollow tree. Tlie word they gave him for his text was iiKiJt ! from which lie preached the following short, but eloquent sermon. THE SERMON. My brethren, let me crave your reverend attention : I am a little man, come at a short warning, to preach you a short sermon, to a thin congregation, in an unworthy pulpit. Brethren, my text is malt : now I cannot divide it into sentences, because there are none ; nor into words, it being but one ; nor into syllahlcs, it being but one also ; therefore, I must, and necessity will oblige or rather force me to di- vide it into letters, which I find in my text to be four, M, A, L, T. M, my beloved, is moral, A allegorical, L literal, and T theological. Moral, my brethren, is well set forth to show and teach you diiinkards good manners ; where- fore, M my masters, A all of you, L listen, T to my text. A, the allegorical, is when one thing is spoken of and another meant ; the tiling spoken of is malt, the thing meant is the oil of malt, or rather the spirit or strength of the malt, properly called strong beer; which you, gentle- men, make M your meat, A your apparel, L your libertg, and T your treasure. Now the literal is according to the letter, M much, A ale, L little, T thirst. Now the theolo- gical is according to the efi'ects that it worketh, which I find in my text to be of two kinds : first in this ; secondly, in tlie world to come. Now the effects that I find it worketh in this world, are, in some M murder, in others A adultery, in all L looseness of life, and in many T treason. Now, the effects that I find it worketh in the world to come, are M misery, A anguish, L lamentation, and T tornicnt. Now, my first use sliall be a use of exhortation : M my masters, A all of you, L leave off, T tippling ; or else M my masters, A all of you, L look for, T torment. Now, FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 107 SO much shall suffice for this exjilication ; next only, by way of caution, take this for an inviolable truth, that a drunkard is the annoyance of modesty ; the distm-ber of civiUtij ; a spoiler of wealth; the destroyer of reason; the brewer's agent ; the ale house's benefactor ; the beg- gar's eompanion ; the constable's perplexity ; his wife's woe ; liis children's sorrow ; his neighbour's scoff ; his own shame ; and a wilful madman : by which he becomes a true and lively representation of a walking swill-tub, or a tavern Bacchus, in a monster of a man, by the picture of a beast. So, now, gentlemen, to conclude, I shall leave you, under the protection of the Almighty, to follow your own direc- tions. FAREWELL. To say well and do well Ends with a letter ; To say well it is well, But to do well is better : Then take the best part Set down in this rhyme. Consider it well. And act it in time. "THEY ARE MINE." A fellow of King's College, Cambridge, seated near an open window telling some bank-notes, was disconcerted by a breeze of wind suddenly blowing them out. He ran into the court in order to recover them, and, when below, look- ing up as they floated in the air, he espied the Provost looking down from an opposite window, upon which the disconsolate owner of the notes, in his anxiety, holding up liis hands in a supplicating posture, exclaimed, They are mine! They are mine! 108 TACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. "IBI SUNT CUNICULI." Some students on a lime, went out shooting rabbits, and it so happened that \\\v\ liad one amongst their party who was luiaccustomed to the sport. They gave him strict cliarge that ho should not speak if lie saw any game. After some time had elapsed, espying some rabbits, he bawled to his companions, " Ibi sunt cuniculi .'" at which the game fled. Being reproved for disobeying orders, he answered, " Who the devil would liave thought tliat rabbits under- stood Latin ?" REFORMATION. Judge Burnet, son of the famous Bishop of Salisburj', when young, is said to have been of a wild and dissipated turn. Being one day found by the bishop in a very serious humour, "What is the matter with you, Tom?" said he, " what are you ruminating on?" " A greater work than your lordship's History of the Reformation," answered the son. "Ay! what is that?" said the bishop?" " The re- formation of myxcif, my lord," answered the son. AN EXPEDIENT. A Cantab, who had run up a reckoning at a house of entertaiinnent some distance from Cambridge, having no money withal to discharge it, hit upon the following expe- dient. The host being present, he began to condemn the ^nne, protesting it was execrably bad, observing — "that his taste was delicate, as his father was a wine-merchant ; but, if the landlord woiUd pennit him to look at the cask, he had a composition with him which woidd make it better." The host consenting to try the experiment, they accordingly repaired to the cellar, when the Cantab bored a hole in the cask, and told the landlord to place his finger upon it, whilst FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 109 he stepped up stairs foi- the powder, which lie said he had forgotten. The landlord, waiting a long time, and finding that the Cantab did not come down, out of all patience, went up, and, lo ! his guest had departed. ELEGANT COMPLIMENT. Mr. Henry Erskine, being one day in London, in com- pany with the Duchess of Gordon, said to her, " Are we never again to enjoy the honour and pleasure of your gi-ace's society at Edinburgh ?" " O !" answered her grace, " Edinburgh is a vile dull place: I hate it." "Madam," rephed the gallant barrister, " the siui might as well say, there's a vile dark morning, — I won't rise to day." BACON. A malefactor, under sentence of death, pretending that he was related to him, on that account petitioned Lord Chancellor Bacon for a reprieve. To which petition his lordship answered, " that he could not possibly be Bacon till he had first been hung." DOG LATIN. On a time, two fellows of a college in Cambridge, riding together towards the Gog-Magog Hills, it chanced that a dog ran in the way of one of their horses : upon which the gentleman, to show that he had been a sportsman in his youth, calls out ^^ helium eqnus." "Well done, old friend," cried his companion, " I see you have not forgot your doy-lutin." AN AWKWARD SITUATION. A priest sitting with his companions, over his beer, at the door of a country alehouse, as in those days they did not scruple to do, upon some one mentioning the arch- 110 FACETI^- CANTABRIGIENSES. bishoj), wlu) at the time was Cranmer, "That man," said the priest, " as great as he now is, was once but an ostler, and has no more learning than the goslings yonder on the green. " Lord Essex, who was a great friend to Cranmer, hearing of it, despatched a messenger and had him appre- hended. Some months after, the archbishop, who was entirely ignorant of the affair, received a petition from the priest, full of penitence for his imprudence, and supplica- ting for mercy. The primate sent for liim, and inquired into the affair. " I hear," said he to the priest, " you have accused me of many things ; amongst others, of being a very ignorant man. You have now an opportimity of setting your neighbours right in this matter, and may exam'me me, if you please." The priest, in great confusion, besought his gi-ace to pardon him ; and he never would offend in the same way again. " Well, then," says the archbishop, " since you will not examhie me, let me exa- mine you." Tlie priest was thunderstnick, nuiking many excuses, and owning he was not much learned in book- matters. The archbishop told him, he should not then go very deep ; and asked him two or three of the plainest questions in the Bible : as, " Who was David's father ? and who was Solomon's?" The priest, confused at his own ignorance, stood speechless. " You see (said the arch- bishop) how your accusation of me rises against yourself. You are an admirable judge of learning and learned men. Well, my friend, 1 had no hand in bringing you here, and have no desire to keep you. Get home ; and, if you are an ignorant man, learn at least to be an honest one." PROPER DISTINCTION. An under-graduate, invited by the peculiar beauty there- of, had unconsciously strayed into the garden of a certain D. D., then master of the college adjoining. He liad not FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. Ill been there many minutes, when Dr. entered himself, and, perceiving the student, in no very courteous manner desired the young gentleman to walk out ; which the under-graduate not doing (in the opinion of the doctor) in sufficient haste, Doniine demanded, rather peremptorily, " whether he knew who he was V at the same time in- forming the intruder he was Dr. . " That (replied the imder-graduate) is impossible ; for Dr. is a ffeu- tleman, and you are a hlackg — d !" PORSON. It is related of Person, that his mode of communicatinir knowledge was truly amiable, and liberal in the extreme. He would tell you all you wanted to know in a plain and direct manner, without any attempt to display his supe- riority, but merely to inform you ; whereas, great scholars are apt to pride themselves on their brilliant parts, make a display of them, and leave you unenlightened. When he was invited to subscribe to the Shaksperian Papers, he excused himself by saying, " that he subscribed to no articles of faith." He was fond of reading the Greek jihysicians, and, when he Hved in the Temple, slept with Galen under his head ; not that Galen was his favourite, but because the folio re- lieved his asthma. The time to profit by Person's learning was inter hiben- dum, for, as Chaucer says of the Sompnoui-, — " And when that he well dronkin had with wine, Then would he speke no word but Latine." A WIFE LOST BY ABSENCE OF MIND. Harvest, early in life, was to have been married to a daughter of Dr. Gibson, Bishop of London, but, forgetting 112 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. the day, he went out on a fishing-party. About twelve o'clock he starts up, and exclaims, " Lord bless me ! I was to have been married to-day !" The lady, however, found consolation by iniiting herself to the then Bishop of Bristol; and poor Harvest remained a solitary bachelor. OXFORD VERSUS CAMBRIDGE. In 1532, two "pert Oxonians" took a journey to Cam- bridge, and in the public schools challenged any to dispute with them on the following questions : — An jus civile sit medinind prcestantius ? In English, as much as to say, — What does most execution, civil law or medicine? — A nice point to decide. The other question, which formed the subject of serious argiuiienta- tion, was the following : — An miiUcr condannata, bis rvptis laqueis, sit tertio sus- pendenda ! Ridley, afterwards bishop of that name, was one of the opponents on this interesting occasion ; who administered the flagella lingua to one of those pert pretenders to logic lore with such happy effect, that the other was afraid to set his wit upon him. PALEY'S SKETCH OF HIS EARLY ACADEMI- CAL LIFE. In the year 179.'), during one of his visits to Cambridge, Dr. Palcj', in the course of a conversation on the subject, gave the following account of the early part of his own academical life ; and it is here given, on the authority and in the very words of a gentleman who was present at the time, as a striking instance of the ])cculiar frankness with which he was in the habit of lelating the adventures of his. FACEUP CANTABRIGIENSES. 113 youth. " I spent (says Paley) the two first years of my under-graduateship happily, but unprofitahly. I was con- stantly in society, where we were not immoral, but idle and rather expensive. At the commencement of my third year, howe\-er, after having left the usual party at rather a late hour in the evening, I was awakened at five in the morning by one of my companions, who stood at my bed- side and said, ' Paley, 1 have been thinking what a d — d fool you are. I could do nothing, probably, were I to try, and can afford the life I lead : you could do everything, and cannot aftbrd it. I have had no sleep during the whole night on account of these reflections, and I am now come solely to inform you, that, if you pei'sist in your indolence, I must renounce your society.' J was so struck (continued Dr. Paley) with the visit and the visitor, that I lay in bed great part of the day, and formed my plan : 1 ordered my bed-maker to prepare my fire every evening, in order that it might be lighted by myself; I ai'ose at five, read during the whole of the day, except such hours as chapel and hall required, allotting to each portion of time its peculiar branch of study ; and, just before the closing of gates (nine o'clock), I went to a neighbouring cofliee-house, where I constantly regaled upon a mutton-chop and a dose of milk- punch : and thus, on taking my bachelor's degi'ee, I became Senior Wran()lcr." FEAR CURED. The poet Gray was remarkably fearful of jire ; and, that he might be prepared to meet any sudden danger arising from such a calamity, he always kept a ladder of ropes in his room. He used occasionally to exercise himself by descending and ascending, with a view to become expert in case of real necessity. This attracted the attention of some 114 FACETIX CANTABRIGIENSES. of his more mischievous brotlier collegians, who determined to attempt a cure of this lia])it. Accordingly, in the dead of a very dark night, they roused liim from his bed with a cry of " fire !" taking care to inform him the staircase was in a flame. Up went the window in an instant, and Gray hastened down his ladder with no slight velocity, into a Uib of water which had been previously prepared to receive him. The joke operated as a cure on Graj^ ; however, he would not forgive it, but immediately changed his college. BETTER ACQUAINTED. Dr. Howard, when rector of St. George, Southwark, went round with the parish officers collecting a brief. Among the rest, they called on a grocer with whom the doctor had a running account ; and, to prevent being asked for a settlement, the doctor inquired if he was not some trifle in his debt ? On referring to the ledger, there appeared a balance of seventeen shillings against the doctor, who had recourse to his pocket, and, pulling out some halfpence, a little silver, and a (guinea, the grocer, eyemg the latter with a little sui-prise, being well acquainted with the doc- tor's povertj^, exclaimed, " Good God, Sir, you have got a stranger there !" " Indeed I have, Mr. Browne," replied the wit, at the same time returning it very deliberately to liis pocket, — " and, before we part, we will be better ac- quainted .'" TOM RANDOLPH Was a man of such pregnant wit, that the Muses may seem not only to have smiled, but to have tickled at his nativity. Once on a day, as it often happens in drinking, a quarrel arose between Randolph and another gentleman, which grew so high, that the gentleman drew his sword. FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 115 and, striking at Randolph, cut off his little finger ; where- upon, in an extempore liumoui", Randolph instantly made the following verses : — " Arithmetic nine digits and no more Admits of, then I have all my store ; But what mischance have ta'en from my left-hand. It seems did only for a cipher stand ; Hence, when I scan my verse, if I do iniss, I will impute the fault only to this : A finger's loss, I speak it not in sport. Will make a verse a foot too short." THE RETORT. In the year 1712, Matthew Prior, who was then a fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, and who, not long before, had been employed by Queen Anne as her plenipoten- tiarj' at the court of France, came to Cambridge, and the next morning paid a visit to the master of his college (then Dr. Gower, or Jenkins). The master was attached to Pxior's principles, had a great opinion of his abilities, and a great respect for his character in the Avorld ; but he had a much greater opinion and respect for himself. He knew his own dignity too well to permit a fellow of his college to sit down in his presence ; and therefore kept his seat him- self, and let the queen's ambassador stand. A little piqued at his reception, Matthew Pi'ior, who was not then noted as a dab at an epigram, thought the present too tempting an opportunity to be let slip. He therefore, on his way to the Rose, firom his college, where he went to dine, composed the following epigram, which he addressed to the master: — EPIGRAM. " I stood, sir, patient at your feet. Before your elbow-chair ; 1 2 116 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. But make a hisliop's tliroiic your seat, I'll kneel before you there. One only thing can keep you down, For your gi-eat soul too mean ; You'd not, to mount a bishop's throne. Pay homage to the queen." TRAIT OF PORSON. The same spirit of independence, so strongly discernible in Porson's moral character, was also visible in his literary character; and he never appeared so sore, or so irritable, as when a Wakefield or a Hermann offered to set him right, or hold their tapers to light him on his way. He considered them, and others, on such occasions, as four-footed animals; and used to say, that, in future, \vhatever he wrote, he would take care they should not i-each it with their paws, though they stood on their hind legs to get at it. IMPROMPTU. In a mathematical examination at Bene't, or Corpus- Christi College, Cambridge, a student, being required to define a trianyle caul a circle, made the following im- promptu : — " Let mathematicians and geometricians Talk of circles' and friaiir/Ics' charms ; Rut the figure I prize is a yir/ with bright eyes. And the circle that's fomied by her arms." ELEGANT RETORT. BY THE LATE LORD ELLENBOROUGH. Lord Ellenborough, who was educated at St. John's Col- lege, Cambridge, when Mr. Law, was so unfortvmate as to make an enemy in the person of Lord Kenyon, who took FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. 117 every opportunity of annoying him, and repressing his rising talents. In a cause where Mr. afterwards Lord Erskine was engaged as counsel on the opposite side, and who made a violent speech, containing some personalities which Mr. Law was obhged to notice, this conduct of the judge drew from Mr. Law, when he rose to reply, the fol- lowing elegant retort, fi-om Virgil: — " Dicta ferox non me tua fervida ten-ent Dii me terrent et Jupiter hostis." " HOW D'YE DO, OLD CODGER?" An under-graduate, soon after he had commenced resi- dence in the University of Cambridge, and whilst he was distinguished by the appellation oi freshman, thinking to come it strong, started one morning upon his nag for a breathing towards the Gog-Magog Hills ! Seeing an old gentleman jogging along upon his black charger, he deter- mined to join him for a quiz, and, riding alongside his man, he began with — '■'■ Hoiv d'lje do. Old Codger?" His com- panion, nothing abashed, answered veiy coolly — " Pretty well. Young Codger I" Finding he had mistaken his man, after a few more attempts at a ciuiz, which were retorted by his companion, who was no novice at such sport, the colle- gian put his nag into a round pace, and left his companion far behind. The Cantab having reached his college, he soon after joined some of liis companions (who happened to be men of longer standing than himself), to whom he related his adventures ; at the same time describing the Old Codger. From the description he gave, no doubt was entertained by them, but that the Old Codger was a certain D.D., who was then Vice-Chancellor. This information put the freshman in a funk, particularly when they added, that he would undoubtedly be convened, and, perhaps, rus- 118 FACETl.E CANTABRIGIENSES. ticated, for his insolence. Some few hours after, whilst he with the rest were over a bottle, a note was l)rought to our hero, requiring his attendance on Mr. Vice-Chancellor, to account for his impertinence in the morning. His friends expressed their concern, but recommended his going imme- diately. Agreeably to this advice, he set off' for the doc- tor's residence, and, knocking at his door, was desired to come in. He innnediately began by apologizing, and pre- senting the note he had received ; but, on Mr. Vice-Chan- cellor saying he knew nothing of the summons, he found, to his no small chagrin, that the whole was a hoax. DELIGHTS OF GERMAN TRAVELLING. The erudite John Tweddell, Esq., whose remains lie moiddering in the bosom of his parent earth, at Athens, in the Temple of Theseus (the mysterious and ever to be la- mented disappearance of whose Researches still remains to be accounted for), was at his death a fellow of Trinity Col- lege, Cambridge. Speaking of German travelling, in one of his letters to a friend, a. d. 1796, he says: — " Our car- riage is in complete condition still, and that is saying a great deal. Mr. Webb's was broken to pieces in the same roads — such roads! such inns! and such beds! I slept once or twice upon straw in preference ; and, after all, upon combing my head, I found that I had increased my family — but this was not the effect of being in the straw." In another letter, to a lady about to travel, he writes on the same sulyect : — " You must make up yom* mind to bad accommodations, frauds, stoppages, &c. — I would have added, and dirty sheets, if I did not presume that you would have the precaution to take your own. Two pair will be sufficient, or even one, for tliere will be sufficient time to wash them while you change horses — there's com- fort for you. You must take a provision of small-toothed FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. 119 comhs with you— your head will soon tell you why. An- other thing wliich you must take witli you is iMtience — you mil want it at every inn. You will find ^\e first horses yoked a hundred yards before the second horses : you may think that the reason of this is, in order to go before, for the pur- pose of ordering dinner; but it is not so." TIT FOR TAT. During the administration of the famous Lord Chatham, who was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, Dr. Markham, Archbishop of York, delivered a charge to his clergy, reflecting highly on the administration of the noble lord. It so happened, that the poet Mason preached a vi- sitation sennon before the archbishop, in the Cathedral Church of York, soon after. Mason, who differed entirely from the archbishop in politics, facetiously chose the follow- ing text on the occasion : — " Yet Michael the archangel, when contending with the devil he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, the Lord rebuke thee." Jude 9. Soon after the preaching of this sermon, by Mason, some one was declaiming in the House of Lords against the clergy interfering in j)olitics, and during whose speech Lord Chatham came into the house ; but, not knowing what had passed at York, he leaned over a noble duke, lately de- ceased, and asked to what the speaker was alluding. On being informed, his lordship attacked the archbishop most eloquently, and so ably retaliated for the past, that the archbishop, wanting temper naturally, was disabled from replying with any coherence. ETERNITY OF HELL TORxMENTS. Soon after the appointment of Mr. J ebb, fellow of Peter- house, and Mr. Watson, afterwards Bishop of LlandafT, to 120 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. tlic office of Modi'ratorx for the first time, they sent Paloy. then in liis third year (the time at which every under-gra- duate who contends for matliematical honours does the same thing), an act to keep in the schools. Paley was prepared with tlie mathematical question, and, referring to Johnson's Queationes P/ii/osop/iica', a book then common in the University, in wliich the subject usually disputed in tlie schools, and the names of the authors who had written on each side, were contained, he fixed upon two others, as not having been proposed for disputation, to his knowledge, before : the one against capital piniishnients, — the other against the eternity of hell torments. As soon as it was rumoured amongst the heads of colleges, that Paley, who was then young, and whose abilities were well known, had proposed such questions, the master of his college was de- sired to interfere and put a stop to it. Dr. Thomas conse- (juently summoned him to the lodge, and objected, in strong tenus, to both his questions, but insisted upon liis relinquishing the last. Paley inmiediately went to the Moderator, and acquainted him with this peremptory com- mand. Mr. Watson was indignant that " the heads of col- leges shoidd interfere in a matter which belonged solely (as he said) to liim, for he was the judge of the propriety or impropi'iety of the cpiesfions sent to him." " Are you, sir," continued Watson, " independent of your college? If you are, these shall be the questions for your act." Paley replied, " that he should be sorry to oflend the college; and therefore wished to change the last question." " Very- well," replied the Moderator, " the best way, then, to sa- tisfy the sciiiples of these gentlemen will be, for you to de- fend the Eterniti/ of Hell Torments :"■ — and, changing his thesis to the affirmative, he actually did so. FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 121 MATTHEW MATTOCKS. A gentleman, who had just taken his degree of B, A., in the University of Cambridge, going down into the north of England, on a visit, immediately after, was asked by a person (whose pronunciation savoured of the provincial), " whether he knew MATHEMATICS." The Cantab, supposing that he alluded to a person of that name, who lived in the neighbourhood, replied — " I don't know Matthew Mattocks, but I know liis brother Richard." DOCTOR GLYNN'S RECEIPT FOR DRESSING A CUCUMBER. Dr. Glynn, whose name will long be remembered in Cambridge, was one of those beings who would occasion- ally unstring the bow, lest it should lose its elasticity. Being one day in attendance on a lady, in the quality of her physician, he took the liberty of lecturing her on the impi'opriety of her eating cucumber, of which she was immoderately fond ; and gave her the following humorous receipt for dressing them : — " Peel the cucumber," said the doctor, " with great care ; then cut it into very thin slices, pepper and salt it well, and then — throw it away." EXTEMPORANEOUS VERSES. The following extemporaneous effusion was poured forth by a gentleman of Bene't, or Corpus Christi College, Cam- bridge : — Have you not heard the cock's loud crowing Ere the day began to dawn l Have you not heard tlie cattle lowing. And the huntsman's sounding horn ? 122 FACETI/E CANTABUIGIENSES. Have you not licard the church bells linging, For sonic hapj)}' wedded pair? Have you nut heard the sky-lark singing, Soaring in the limpid air ? Have you not heard the tempest roar, Driving on the pelting rain ? If you have heard all these, and more. Perhaps you'll hear them all again ! PORSON'S POLITICS. They never intenaipted an harmonious intercourse with him, who pays this tribute to his memorj', and to whom, in a moment of confidence, he gave, in his own hand- wiiting, a pamphlet, MTitten in answer to Mr. Burke's Reflections on the French Revolution. It is termed — " A New CatccMsm for the Natives of Hampshire." The humour of the tract consists in playing upon the expres- sion "swinish multitude," said to have been applied to the common people by Mr. Burke. The following is the begin- ning and ending of the — TRACT. Question. What is your name 1 Answer. Hog or Swine. Q. Did God make you a hog ? A. No ; God made me man in his own image : the right honoiuable SuhJimc and Beautiftd made me a swine. Q. How did he make you a swine ? A. By muttering obscure and uncouth spells. He is a dealer in the black art. Q. Who feeds you ? A. Our drivers, the only real men in this country. Q. How many hogs are you in all? A. Seven or eight millions. F^CETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 123 Q. How many drivers ? A. Two or three thousand. Q. Witli what do they feed you ? A. Generally with husks, swill, draff, malt, grains, and now and then with a little barley-meal and a few potatoes ; and, when they have too much butter-milk themselves, they give us some. The following must be allowed not to be destitute of humour : — Q. What are the interpreters* called? A. The black-letter sisterhood. Q. Why do they give the office to women 1 A. Because they have a fluent tongue, and a knack of scolding. Q. How are they dressed? A. In gowns and false hair. Q. What are the principal orders ? A. Three : ivriters, talkers, and hearers ; which last are also called deciders. Q. What is their genei-al business ? A. To discuss the mutual quaiTels of the hocjs, and to punish their affi'onts to any or all of their drivers. Q. If two hogs quarrel, how do they apply to the sister- hood ? A. Each hog goes separately to a writer. Q. What does the writer ? A. She goes to a talker. Q, What does the talker ? A. She goes to a hearer, or decider. Q. What does the hearer decide ? A. What she pleases. Q. If a hog be decided to be in the right, what is the consequence ? * Judges. 124; FACETIiT> CANTABRIGIENSES. A. He is almost ruined. Q. If in tlie wrong, what ? A. He is quite niiited. After some facetious remarks on tlie clergy, who are termed peace-makers, the dialogue proceeds : Q. How are these peace-makers rewarded? A. With potatoes. Q. What, all? A. Ten per cent. only. Q. Then you have still ninetij left in the hundred? A. No ; we have onl}' /t"'/.'/ left. Q. What becomes of the oAdJifti/ ? A. The drivers take them, partly for a small recompense for protecting us, and partly to make money of them, for the prosecution of law-suits with the neighbouring farmers. Q. You talk sensibly for a hog ; where had you your infoi-mation ? A. From a very learned pig. The following is given by way of answer to the question — by what ceremony the hog is disenchanted, and resumes his natural shape : — A. The hog that is going to be disenchanted, grovels before the chief driver, who holds an iron skewer over him, and gives him a smart blow on the shoulder, to remind him at once of his former subjection and future submission. Immediately he starts up, like the devil from Ithariel's spear, in his proper shape, and ever after goes about with a nickname. He then beats his hogs without mercy, and, when they implore his compassion, and beg him to recol- lect he was once their fellow-swine, he denies that ever he was a hog. This ciu'ious dialogue thus concludes : — Q. What is the general wish of the hogs at present? A. To save their bacon. Chorus of Hogs. — Amen ! FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 125 STEALING. A Johnian, now deceased, one day met a Trinity man, walking under the piazza of Neville's Court, of whom he had some knowledge. Going suddenly up to the Trinitarian, he addressed him with, — "Sir, you are a thief!" The Trinitarian, all astonishment at the tone in which the accu- sation was made, demanded an explanation, " Sir," an- swered the Johnian, smiling, " You steal from the sun." THE CANONICAL WIG. It so happened, one day, that Doctor Howard passed by the shop of a peruke-maker, when his pocket, which was too often the case, overflowed with emptiness. He saw a canonical wig in the window, which took his fancy very much, and, in order to obtain credit, he informed the master of the shop he was rector of St. George's Southwark, and chaplain to the Princess Dowager of Wales. Happy in the acquisition of such a customer, the hair-dresser, who had received the doctor's order to that effect, finished a wig with the utmost dispatch ; but before he sent it home, he heard some whispers about the reverend doctor, which did not perfectly please him, and he therefore ordered his journey- man, whom he sent with the wig, not to deliver it without the money. " I have brought your wig, sir," said the barber, when ushered into the doctor's presence. " Very well," said his reverence, " put it down." " I can't, sir," replied the barber, " without the cash," The doctor, who was just then very low in the pocket, and anxious to possess the wig, said — " Let me try whether it will fit me?" This was so reasonable a request, that the barber reachly con- sented, and the doctor had no sooner put it on his head, than he ordered the poor barber out of the room, giving him to understand that, since it was sold to him, it was now become bis property. 126 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. DO ILL. At a party, in Cambridge, where the merits of a certain belle happened to be discussed, two Cantabs, who had some knowledge of the hidy, took opposite sides, and contended verj' wannly for each otlier's ojiinion ; indeed, so higli did the question run, that they became quite clamorous on the subject. Upon which a lady of the party jocosely observed, " that she feared they would be obliged to end the affair by fighting a duel?" " In that case, madam," replied one of the Cantabs, " we shoiUd do ill!" PRINCIPLE AND INTEREST. It is related of the celebrated Burke, that he sent his son to St. John's College, Cambridge, to complete his studies ; and after the young gentleman had resided there some time, the bills were of course sent to him by the tutor, for payment. Burke suffered them to remain unpaid, nor did he take any notice of the circmnstance. The tutor, at length, grown tired of waiting payment, wrote to request, that, if it was not convenient for Mr. Burke to pay the principal, he would pay the interest. To this reasonable request Burke laconically answered : — " Sir, it is neither my principle to pay the interest, nor my interest to pay the principal." LAPSUS LINGUiE. When Paley was installed as sub-dean, in the Cathedral of Lincoln, 172.5, he proceeded from thence to take liis degree of D.D. in Cambridge. He preached his Concio ad Cleriim in February, and on that occasion, as he was no poet, and little skilled in Latin prosody, he unfortunately pronounced the word profufjus, profugus. This bhuider of Paley 's gave rise to the following epigram from one of the University wits : — FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 127 EPIGRAM. " Italiam, fato profugus, lavinaque venit Litora ; EiTat Virgilius forte j^rofugus erat. DR. JORTIN, Who was of Jesus College, Cambridge, was once asked by a friend, why he did not publish his sermons — " They shall sleep," answered the doctoi-, " till I sleep." ABSENCE OF MIND. The effect of absence of mind is well exemplified in an incident \vhich happened some time since to a well-kno^vn gentleman of Magdalen College, Cambridge. He had taken his watch from his pocket to mark the time he intended to boil an egg for his bi'eakfast, wlien a friend, entering his room, found hini absorbed in some abtruse calcidation, with the egg in his hand, upon wliich he was looking intently, and the watch supplying its place in the saucepan of boiling water. FLYING TO THE UTMOST BOUNDS OF INFI- NITE SPACE. During the days of Bishop Hinchley, at a visitation sermon, preached before the University of Cambridge, the preacher indulged himself in much speculative argumenta- tion, and concluded by speaking, though rhetorically, by no means naathematically or metaphysically, of an angel a flying to the utmost hounds of infinite space. DELICACY. Dr. Jortin was, by some writer, once accused of indeli- eacy. All the world laughed at the conceit, and Jortin 128 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. liimself was surprised into a (jriii. " How comes it, John," said a friend of his, " that you should have the reputation of less delicacy than the ])r<)ker?" " I'll tell you," said the doctor. '' Ranihling one day in tlie environs of the zodiac, instead of making my bow and my speech, I hap- pened to turn my posteriors upon Ursa Major!" KILLING TIME. Paley frequently mixed in card-parties, and was consi- dered a skilful player at whist ; ])ut he would, at all times, readily forego the amusement for conversation with an in- telligent companion. A lady once observed to him at a card-table, " that the only excuse for their playing was, that it served to kill time." " The best defence possible, madam," replied he, " though time will in the end kill us !" COMPLIMENTS. Mr. Yates, the celebrated master of the free grammar- school at Appleby, which he had taught with credit and success for half a century, when in his eightieth year, still retaining the vigour of his faculties, became intimate with Paley. Many of their mutual compliments are remembered by their intimate friends ; amongst others, the following : — " Mr. Paley reasons like Locke," was the observation of Yates ; " Mr. Yates writes like Erasmus," was the equally merited rejily of Paley. FACETIOUS SKETCH OF THE CHARACTER OF PAUL I. OF RUSSIA. Tweddell, in a letter to one of his friends, dated Moscow, 1797, thus facetiously describes the character of Paul I. " He is," says Tweddell, "a great imitator of Frederic II., for which reason he wears great boots and hideous uni- forms, and exercises his troops at six o'clock in the morning FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 129 without his hat on, when the cold is at sixteen degrees. He wishes to unite magnificence with economy — foi* which reason he makes superb presents to individuals, and great retrenchments in the general departments of the state. He certainly has the most brilliant court in Europe ; it is truly splendid. On the day of his coronation, at dinner, the lieutenant-colonels presented his dishes upon one knee. How can this eastern despot pi'etend to unite such base servitude with his love of the military ? He is capricious and minute — ^attaching weight to trifles. All the military are obliged to have long queues ; a man with short hair cannot command his armies. General Mack would not have suflicient merit to be a sergeant, for he has the vice of baldness : the emperor would treat him as the naughty boys treated Elisha. He judges all men upon the model of Samson, and conceives their force to be in their hair. His first acts, such as the liberation of Koskiusko, placed him in a fair light, and made him appear brighter than he ought to appear. In short, Paul is a poor thing ; he does not want sense, but he has not capacity to embrace a com- jjrehensive system of measures. He is a little man standing on tip-toe ; he libels dignity when he struts ; and reminds me of a poultry-yard, when he traverses the palace in the midst of the dames of honour. FULLER ALL OVER. The Rev. Thomas Fuller, who was educated at Queen's College, Cambridge, was in his day a great punster, and also a man of most lively wit. He was extremely corpu- lent ; and one day, as he was riding in company with a gentleman of liis acquaintance, named Sparrowhawh, he could not resist the opportunity of jjassing a joke upon liini. " Pray wliat is the difleroice," said Fuller, between iS. 130 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. an owl and .a xparrowhawk ?" " Oh," retorted the other, sarcastically, " an owl is fuller in the head, fuller in the body, and fuller all over!" KEEPING A CONSCIENCE. The great cotitroverst/ on the propriety of requiring a subscription to articles (f faith, as practised by the chm-ch of England, excited at this time (1772) a very strong sen- sation amongst the members of the two imiversities. At Oxford the high church were completely triumphant ; but in Cambridge the discussion ran high, and exercised talents and ingenuity on both sides of the question, attended with no small asperity. Paley was personally attached to many of the reforming party ; but, though favourable to their claims, he did not sign the clerical petition which was pre- sented to the House of Commons for relief; alleging jocu- larly to Mr. J ebb, as an apology for his refusal, that " he could not afibrd to keep a conscience." RETORT ON RETORT. Dr. South, in his " Animadversions on Dr. Sherlock's Vindication of the Trinity," in 1693, occasionally reflected upon Archbishop Tillotson, for his " signal and peculiar encomium, as he calls it, on the reasoning abilities of the Socinians ;" and, being desirous of knowing the arch- bishop's opinion of his performance, procured a friend of his to draw it from him, who gave it to this effect, — that the doctor wrote like a man, but bit like a dog. This being reported to Dr. South, he answered, that " he had rather bite like a dog, than fawn hke one." To which the arch- bishop replied, that " for his part, he should choose to be a upaniel rather than a cur." FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. 131 MEMORABILIA OF DR. PARR. HIS CHARACTER. Though Dr. Parr never feared to look truth in the face, he was, however, frequently afraid of treading on her heels. His physical courage was far below his intellectual intre- pidity. He would often recommend, but not so often support. Although his penetration into character was at first sight almost miraculous, yet intercept his microscopic xision by the most minute matter, and his power vanished. His prejudices once excited, his judgment took its leave. Dr. Parr was always the easy prey of minions ; not that he had a taste for degraded intellect, but he was its unconscious dupe. It is said of the whale, that he is steered in his course by a fish of very contemptible dimensions, and that a yet more insignificant one will alter the course of a ship. He delighted in cabals and scenes, or else he was their most unlucky victim : he believed in any tales, however ridiculous, against his oldest friends, when inocidated upon liim by cunning ; and in any neighboiu-ing family quarrels or local feuds, he instantly took the field (on the side he happened to enter it) with the appetite of an Irishman, who, arriving at a row, is said to rush into the thick of it with the pious exclamation, " God grant I may take the right side!" Tliis may be attributed to the natural sim- pUcity of liis mind and the wannth of his temper. The constancy of ,lris friendships very far, very far, from equalling their ardour. His best friends coidd not always evade his determination to quaiTel. The subject of his advice was a fearful cause of rupture : he did not know his own ignorance of the world, and yet was despotic enough to de- mand that the whole advice should be swallowed ; " Parr's entire," or your licence of friendship was withdrawn for k2 132 FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. tliree lunulrod and sixty-five days. Ilis friends did not quarrel with him, but Dr. Parr with them. His plaeability, however, was eqvial to his irascibility ; and when the tor- nado was over, the serenity of tlie natural atmosphere returned. He not only forgave his supposed injuries, but he forgot them. He greatly resembled Goldsmith — " he was no man's enemy but his own." Godwin said of him, that his friendships were far too easily gained and too easily lost to be of consideration to any man. Nor was this infirmity of his mind confined to his friendships. The most violent bursts of grief were often succeeded by absurd and ludicrous ideas, and loud bursts of laugliter ; so rapid and instantaneous were his associations. There was a scene-shifting and a pantomime in his mind most inexpli- cable. In his religious sentiments and simplicity he was Apostolic ; while in his rural parish chiu-ch he was the Pope in miniature, and the stranger would estimate Dr. Parr's piety by the length and diameter of liis wax can- dles, and the weight of his communion silver! The wisdom of his morning library conversations was strangely contrasted with the nonsense of liis drawing-room and table talk. He whom archbishoprics could not tempt, would almost bow the knee for a piece of plate ; and coronets and mitres were the baubles he played with, as a child with its nursery toys. The morning sloven, with the rapidity of Pantaloon, was transformed into the drawing- room courtier ; and his ravenous appetite for intellectual nutriment was only equalled by his epicurean gluttony. It was said that Dr. PaiT possessed two mills — one to grind knowledge, the other to gnnd food. All these contrarieties would have been unaccountable if the history of man did not tell us, that it is one quality to fonn a judgment, and anotlier to act upon it ; that it is far easier to invent the most perfect system of virtue and worldly wisdom, than to FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 133 practice the least part ; and that men may possess a pro- found knowledge of human nature, and yet know nothing of themselves. It was one of the most sagacious remarks of Bacon, that " hooks do not teach the use of books." It has been said, that a too long continuance at the university is not the best way to enlarge the mind ; but if Dr. Parr could have afforded to have remained there longer, he would have reaped great profit. He would early have associated with characters, who, in the attraction of society, would have polished and refined his own : he would have been taught self-controul, and the more correct estimate of his own powers. As it was, the early professional situation of the assistant liedagoyue was unlikely to break in the ec- centricities of such a mind. His clerical jjrofession also deprived liim of that early discipline derived from com- merce with the world, almost essential to smelt the rich ore of liis intellect. Whoever critically examines the pub- lished writings of Dr. Parr, will soon perceive why lie chd not, and why he could not, produce more creditable works. He was, as it were, overlaid with acquired knowledge : the flood of his memory burst in on his own original powers and drowned them. He always forgot that there is little original contribution to be made to the knowledge of the world, but that the tact of authorship consists in supplying the modern wants in a modern mode. He never could clear his mind of its recollections of the modes of the ancients : he could not elect from the number and the value of the precious stores : it was a diffidence and inabi- lity which, however, ruined his publications : he should have trusted more to himself and less to others. He never divested himself of the swaddling clothes of his education. In his mental powers and erudition he resembled Milton (he himself said so) ; in the use of them he was like Prynne ; of the latter of whour it is said, by Cleveland, that 134 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. a marginal note would serve for a winding-sheet, and that his works were like thick-skinned fruits, all rind. Dr. Parr disappointed his reader l)y suhstituting other men's opinions for his own : his works resemhle those of the man of learn- ing described by Osborne, as so overawed by antiquity, that he dared present nothing to the public but what old authors had left them already published, and whose senti- ments were put into " old forms, patched up with sentences wliich doth unavoidably make a rent in the author's own style." In short, Dr. Parr had powers which he dared not use — armour which he would not put on. Dr. Parr, how- ever, was no pedant ; it was not an awkward ostentation of needless learning. Bentley's observation on Warburton equally applies to Parr, who " appears to have a great appetite for learning, but no digestion." Dr. Parr was, however, no antiquarian miser in knowledge : his generosity in communicating his own inexhaustible stores was even prodigal, and many have reaped the reputation of his la- hours. He was the patron and benefactor of needy men of letters and genius, and his correspondence was extensive and often laborious. He particularly delighted in the so- ciety and improvement of young men, and many an ardent and superior mind has been ignited at liis intellectual flame. HIS PRECOCITY OF TALENT. According to his own account. Dr. Parr, when a boy, was of very precocious intellect, and had attained a consi- derable degree of grammatical knowledge of Latin at four years of age. He mentions, that once, when called to the surgery by his father, to compound medicines, he first showed his critical acumen in revengefully pointing out to him a mistake he had made in a genitive case, in a Latin prescription, which drew from his father the robust correc- tion of — " Sam, d — n the prescription, make the mixture." FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 135 PORSON'S SAYING OF PARR. Dr. Parr, failing in his contest for the Mastership, quitted Harrow, and established a private academy at Stanmore, where lie was accompanied by several boys of the iippei- form. It was a necessary consequence, and a part of the Stanmore j)lan, that he should be married. He accoi-dinglj- " contracted matrimony" with Miss Mai'sengale, of the ancient family of Mauleverer, one of whose ancestors signed the death-wan-ant of Charles I. Dr. Parr married this lady because he wanted a housekeeper ; Miss married liim because she wanted a house. She was an only child, bred up by three maiden aunts, as she said of herself, " in rigidity and frigidity;" and she always described Dr. Parr as " born in a whirlwind, and bred a tyi-ant." Such dis- cordant elements were not likely to end in harmony. Her disposition was bad and malignant. She lost few opportu- nities of vexing her sj^ouse, which a strong understanding and caustic powers of language afforded her more than or- dinary facilities of accomplishing : she always preferred exposing his foibles, and ridiculing his peculiarities in the presence of others. These domestic matters are only re- ferred to as explanatory of some of the subsequent enigmas of the life and reputation of Dr. Parr. His mind and tem- per were ke^it in a peqietual irritation ; he was driven to the resom'ces of visiting, and to the excitement of that table- talk which unfortunately superseded efforts of more lasting character. Porson, whose discrimination folly equalled his own, used to say, " Pan* would have been a great man, but for three things — his trade, his wife, and his jiolitics!" DR. PARR, THE REV. CHARLES CURTIS, AND CUMBERLAND. Dr. Parr having received two anonymous letters, the ISG FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. grating contents of whidi he attributed to the Rev. Charles Curtis, brotlicr of Sir "William, the Rev. CJenfleman rebut- ted in the St. James's Chronicle, which produced from tlic Doctor an octavo pamphlet of 217 pages, in reply. This huge sequel of the Doctor's, tempted Cumberland to enter the field with a humorous reply, called " Curtis Itescucd from the Gulph; or, the Retort Conrteons to the Iter. Dr. Parr, SiT." 1792. The whole body of httin'ity is here put in requisition, to furnish that play upon words denominated puns, which hover about from the title-page, " Ille mi PAR esse dens videtur, Ille, si fas est, superare divos." — Catullus. to the word finis inclusive — " Jam sumus ergo Pares." — Erit Curtius. The name of Cumberland was ever after a disagreeable sound to Dr. Parr, who characterised Mr. Dilly's authors as " hornets and scorpions." DR. PARR versus LORD ERSKINE. It was the vulgar notion of those who did not know Dr. Parr, that his knowledge was confined to the structure of sentences, the etymology of words, the import of particles, and the quantity of syllables ; but those who did intimately know and appreciate his singvdar mental acquirements, were alike struck with their variety and depth. In classical erudition he was without a rival, and was one of the few surviving devotees of the old school of learning. The Doctor was most vain and jealous of his literary superiority and fame in the manufacture of inscriptions and cjiitaphs. Of these there are upwards of thirty in number ; the most celebrated, to the memories of Gibbon, Johnson, Burke, Fox, and Sir John Moore. Dr. Parr and Lord Erskine are said to have been the vainest men of their times. At a dinner some years since, Dr. Parr, in ecstasies with the FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 137 conversational powers of Lord Erskine, called out to him (though his junior), " My Lord, I mean to write your epi- taph!" "Dr. Parr," replied the nohle lawyer, "it is a temptation to commit sviicide!" HIS DELINEATION OF TOM PAINE'S CHARACTER. " I recognise in Mr. Paine, a mind not disciplined by education, not softened and refined by a various and exten- sive intercourse with the world, not enlarged by the know- ledge which books supply; but endowed by nature with very great vigour, and strengthened by long and intense habits of reflection. Acute he appears to me, but not com- prehensive ; and bold, but not profound. Of man, in his general nature, he seemed only to have grasped a part ; and of man, as distinguished by local and temporary cir- cumstances, his views are indistinct and confined." DR. PARRS ECCENTRICITIES IN THE PULPIT. " Attending Hatton Church one Sunday, before it was re- built," says a gentleman, " I came ni with a lady wliilst he was reading the lessons. Fixing his eyes upon me, he stopped, and called aloud, in a full congregation, to his ' man Sam,' who stood in the aisle, " Sam, show that lady and gentleman into my pew." One Sunday, on mounting the pulpit, he, to my surprise, produced a printed volume of sermons, and thus addressed his congregation: — " My beloved friends, I have been neglectftd of my duty, by not having a sermon of my own ready for you to-day ; but I will read you a better than I could make for you. It is by Dr. Rees, a dissenter, but there is nothing in it to whicli we of the Estnhiislnnent do not subscribe." He then read it through, and closed the service. 138 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. DR. PARRS OPINION OF PITT AND FOX. Dr. Parr was a frequent guest at the seat of the late Lord Dormer (fatlier of the present Lord), Grove Park, near Warwick ; indeed, he often went there without an in- vitation, and in liis most ordinary costume. I was fre- (juently sent to obtain the Courier newspaper; and, upon my return, he made me read to him the Parliamentary de- bates, which were at that period full of interest. I some- times took a malicious pleasure in giving the utmost possible effect to the brilliant passages, upon which the Doctor would exclaim, " Why, you noodle, do you dwell with such energy upon Pitt's empty declamation ?" At other mo- ments he would say, "That is powerful, but Fox will an- swer it." When I pronounced the words, " Mr. Fox rose," Parr would roar out, " Stop!" and after shaking the ashes out of his pipe, and filling it afresh, he would add, with a marked emphasis, " Now, you dog, do your best!" In the course of the speecli in question, he would often interrupt me, in a tone of triumpluuit exultation, with exclamations such as the following: — "To be sure!" — "Capital!" — " Answer that, if yon can. Master Pitt!" — and, at tlie con- clusion, " TJiat is the speech of the orator and flic states- man; Pitt is a mere rhetorician:" — adding, after a pause, " a very able one, I admit." Sometimes, after hearing the first three or four sentences of a speech of Mr. Pitt, he would say, " Now the doc) is thinlciny irhat he shall say; Fox rushes into the subject at once." Here let me remark, that when Parr called any of his pupils noodle or doy, or even, in some instances, " blockhead," it was a proof tliat they were in high favour ; and on those occasions his good- natured smile showed that he spoke in perfect good hu- mour; but the word " dunce," he always used contemptu- FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. 139 ously. When engaged in oiu* lessons, he assumed a magis- terial gravity of manner ; but at other times he conversed witli us as friends, and not as pupils, and frequently enter- tained us with most amusing anecdotes. BOOTS PROHIBITED. During the time Goslin, who was Master of Caius Col- lege, was Vice-Chancellor, lie made it a heavy fine for any imder-graduate to appear in hoots. A student undertook, for a small bet, to visit him in the pi'ohibited articles, and actually did so, entreating the Vice-Chancellor's advice for a numbness in his legs, which he pleaded was hereditary. The Vice-Chancellor dismissed him, lamenting he could not do liim any service ; and the under-graduate won his wager. ONE INSIDE. What Cantab has not had a lift in the coach which runs between Cambridge and Bury St. Edmund's, starts from the Cerulean Pig, and is driven by Smith — as civil a coachee as ever sung out " all right," and as good a whip as ever sat behind a hack. Smith was one evening be- guiled to stop for one inside, by a party of Cantabs ; and whilst some kept him at confab, and bussed him in a glass of hot Cogniac and water, the others popped a young jack- ass into the coach, shut the door, sung out " all right," and off went Smith in a crack. The Cantabs, who were driving tandems, reached the Blue Boar before coachee, and ranged themselves in order to enjoy tlie joke. Presently in di'ove Smith, who, dismounting, opened the door of his coach, to pay due attention to his " one inside," when, to the no small delight of the by-standers, he was saluted with the following Cantubile in a sharp — " Eke-huw ! Ehc-liuw !" 140 FACETI^ CANTABBIGIENSES. ANTICIPATION REALIZED. A certain Cantab, anticipating tliat he should obtain " The sohd honours of tlio Woode7i Spoon," — and thereby be added to tlie innnber of the It/Xo^ofoi, or bearers of tlie wooden standard, purchased a hirge tvoodcn ladle, which he took into the Senate-liouse with him on " The Tiupos Day." The brackets being posted up, some men, who were at too great a distance to read tlie names, cried out, " Who is the Sj)oon?" It liaving turned out as the Cantab had anticipated, thrusting up his hand, with the domestic utensil therein, he sung out, to the no small amusement of the assembled Sfoi, " Ecce sigmiin /" and thus averted the ridicide which is generally poured upon the " luckless wight." THREE PRIVATE TUTORS TO ONE PUPIL. " The child who many fathers share, Hath seldom known a father's care," Says the fabulist — Whether it so befel a certain gentleman, who was certainly not possessed of " absolute wisdom," we know not ; but the following anecdote, ipso facto, is no fiction ; and the hopeftd subject of it may be occasionally seen adonising at the West End. Three M.A.'s, private Tutors, happened to meet together at a man's rooms in Cambridge, for the express purpose of enjoying the otium cum vino, when their discourse turned upon which had the profoundest tardus ingenii for a pupil. Each asserted his right to precedence, and having betted on the result, to their no small surprise, their claims all centred in the same under-graduate, who was forthwith voted, 7iem. dis., no Solomon. FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 141 ERASMUS versus LUTHER. Erasmus, of whom Cambridge lias a right to be not a little proud, thought so highly of Lord Mountjoy, that he pronounced him " Inter doctos nohiUssimus, inter nohiles doctissimvs, inter utrosque optimus." The noble object of tills eulogium entreated Erasmus to attack the errors of Luther. " My Lord," answered Erasmus, " nothing is more easy than to say, Luther is mistaken ; and nothing more difficult than to prove him so." THE WOODEN WEDGE. At the institution of the Classical Tripos in Cambridge, A. D. 1824, some consternation was felt by the under-gra- duates, not so much because they fimked the examination thereof, as for want of a corresponding nom de guerre to the Wooden Spoon for that hapless wight who shoidd be happy enough to be Tail-piece to those honours. This difficulty, however, to the no small gratification of the aofoi, was obviated by the cognomen of the gentleman who first obtained that distinguished place, in the Classical Tripos- Paper, being Wedgewood; which circumstance was hailed with suitable demonstrations of joy, and facetiously trans- posed into The Wooden Wedge — " Which all who win must wear;" it being, as Lord Byron said of the Wooden Spoon, " . The name with which we Cantabs please To dub the last of honours in degrees." Don Juan, Canto in. CURIOUS EXTRACT OF A LETTER FROM A CANTAB TO HIS FRIEND IN THE COUNTRY. "Monday, July 10, (170.3) at six o'clock in the morning, made a forced march to Chapelsdorff, proceeded soon after 142 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. to Teahntfersbreadtz, from wlience I made a detachment from the rear guard of my Corps, and proceeded to Puzxle- u'ifz. About one o'clock arrived at Commonhadtz, where we fell in with a detachment dv Multov, which was soon cut to pieces, without any loss on our side ; from hence marched to DoclcneUimiseyi, where I seized several maga- zines. At six was obliged to return to ChapeJsdorjf, fi-om thence to Snpperville and Piizzlewitz, and about ten at night fell back to Snortinau. "P. W." QUIS EST REX? An eminent mathematician of Queen's College, now Tutor and King of that Ilk, was Senior Wrangler of his year with, perhaps, more dinstinction than any Cantab who ever took the same honour, being 700 marks above the next best man. He had with others to go into the " Schools" to a sort of Huddling, when the Moderators put a question to each in Latin. King having mounted the rostrum, the Moderator said to him with a significant smile, " Quis est Rex ?" " Socitis liegince " was the prompt and facetious reply of tlie Queen's Man. A GREEK PUN. Dr. Parr is said to have been averse to a play upon words, but his applause was once extorted by the following Greek pun, which was made in the course of a warm argument between Payne Knight and himself. The former having at the moment a visible advantage, and having made some remark which nettled tl)e Dr., he, in a moment of irritation, exclaimed, — " Sir, this is not a fair argument, it is down- right impudence." Payne Knight immediately replied, — " True, Doctor, the Greek word for it is n«{^'i(Tia." This happy repartee completely restored the good humour of FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 143 PaiT, who replied, — "A fair retort, Sir; I forgive yoii, I forgive you!" and then laughed heartily. BISHOP HORSLEY. Dr. Parr had a great antipathy to that celebi-ated Cantab, Bishop Horsley. This learned prelate having said, in the coin-se of a speech in the House of Lords, " tlie people had nothing to do with the laws but to obey them ;" the senti- ment, which at the time was commented upon in the newspapers, excited Parr's indignation to so great a degree, that he wrote on the occasion a poetical remonstrance to the Bishop in English blank verse, Latin iambics, and Greek hexameters, and in the latter he denominated Horsley iTrwLuTiif. SIMPLICITY OF MATHEMATICIANS. A late professor at Cambridge, who had been the Senior Wrangler of his year, being asked a few days after he had obtained that honour, if he were going to Town ? repHed, "That he should defer his journey thither for a fortnight, as he should not like to appear in Londoii till the aflair had blown over," THE MINOR POETS. In a party (where the merits of Hayley and some other of the minor poets were discussed, of which the caustic and facetious Porson made one) some sagacious and sym- pathizing friends of the aspirants sapiently observed, "they will be read when Shakspeare, Milton, and Pope are for- gotten." "Yes," added Porson with his accustomed home thnist, "and not till then!" PORSON'S FONDNESS FOR ALGEBRA Was miiversally known; but a more singidar proof than 144 FACETIyE CANTABRIGIENSES. the following can liardly be adduced, exhibiting an Equa- tion composed by him in Greek. Required the ninnber which being -h'' into 2 unequal parts, tlie square of the > ' + "^ ** shall be equal to the square of < " + the > ''. Let the numbers be .r and y. x^—y=x—y x+y= 1. THE FIRST ENGLISH PLAY PRODUCED BY A CANTAB, AND FIRST ACTED AT CAMBRIDGE. It is an incident at which the sons of Granta ought not to blush, j)roh jmdur ! that the first English play ever written was the production of a Cantab. It was called, " a Rigght Pgthy, Pleasant, and Merie Comedie, IntyUilcd Gammer Giirton's Needle ; played on the Stage not long ago in Christe's Colledge, in Cambridge, made by Mis- ter S. Master of Arts. Imprynted at London, in Fleete Streeate, heneth the Conduit, at the Signe of St. John Evangelist, by lliomas Colivell." The above edition was published A.D. l')75, and was written by John Still, M. A. afterwards Bishop of Bath and Wells. Though altogether of a comic cast, is was not deficient in genuine humour, and aflfords a curious specimen of the simplicity which pre- vailed in the dawning of dramatic genius in this country. It was written in metre, and spun out into five regular acts. — The following is a sketch of the — PLOT : Gammer Gurton having lost her needle, a great hunt is FACETl^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 145 made in search of it, and her boy is commanded to blow up the embers of an expiring fire, in order to light a candle to assist the search. The "d d w-itch of a cat " has taken possession of the chimney wath her two fiery eyes, whicli makes the boy cry out, " It is the devil of a fire," for when he puffs 'tis out, and when he does not, it's in. " Stir it!" shrieks Gannner Gurton. Tlie boy does her bidding, and the cat, which Sawney has mistaken for the fire, rushes from the chimney into a pile of wood. " The house will be burnt," roars the boy. " All hands to work !" The cat is however discovered by the sagacity of a priest — which ends the episode. The main jdot and Cfff-astrophy vies with the foregoing. Gammer Gurton had the day before, it seems, been mending her man Hodge's breeches. Now Hodge, in some game of merriment, is to be punished with three slaps on the breech by the brawny hand of his fellow bumpkins. His head is for that pui'pose laid in the lap of Gammer Gurton, the first slap is given, and Hodge bellows out with pain, when a joyful discovery for all, save poor Hodge, the needle is found buried up to the eye in his posterior. The needle is extracted with great demonstra- tion of joy — and so ends this Jirst of English comedies, to which every Cantab ouffkt to be " comes genius." DOCTOR BIRKETT, The celebrated author of a Treatise on the New Testa- ment, was, in his day, a very eminent pi-eacher, and ex- tremely tenacious of permitting any other divine to officiate for him. On a time, a clerical friend, who dined with tlie Doctor on the day in question, requested that he might be allowed to preach in his stead. The Doctor at first politely declined the offer, but, when within a few yards of the church, consented to it. In the interim, his friend had contrived to pick his pocket of the sermon he had prepared L 146 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. to preach, and substituted it for his own. On his way back from the church, he inquii'ed of the Doctor how he liked the discourse. "Wliy," answered Birkett, "you stole the Jiddlff but you could not steal the jfofcssor." HEAD versus HAIR. A Cantab having tlie ill-luck, in academic phraseologj", to be plucked for orders, some wicked wag of a gownsman celebrated the accident by the following sarcastic Cantabile, in the shape of an EPIGRAM. Ned cut off his queue, and was powder'd with care. Yet sadly mistaken was Ned ; For though he had taken such pains with his hair, The bishop found fault with his head. DR. BENTLEY AND THE PHILOSOPHERS. Cumberland, the dramatist, was grandson of the cele- brated critic and scholar. Dr. Bentley. At six years old, he was sent to the grammar-school of Bury St. Edmimd's, which then enjoyed some repute under the management of the Rev. Arthur Kinsman, wlio was also a Cantab and a friend of the doctor's. Kinsman was fond of dilating on the superior advantages of his school, and, one day, while on a visit to Trinity Lodge, the learned pedagog\ie said to the doctor, " Master, I will make your grandson as good a scholar as yourself." " Pshaw ! (exclaimed the great Aristarchus) how can that be, when I have forgot more than thou ever knewest." — When ahoy, Cumberland was rallied by liis mother for asserting that he never slepL Bentley called liis grandson to an account for this assertion, which he did l)y stating, that he never knew liimself to be asleep, and therefore supposed tliat he never slept. The great critic, very good-humouredly, gave the child credit FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 147 for this defence, and said to his mother, " Leave your boy in possession of his opinion ; he has as clear a conception of sleep, and at least as comfortable a one, as the pliiloso- pliers who puzzle their brains about it, and do not rest so well." PRIOR'S POETICAL JEUX D'ESPRIT. Sir James Thomhill di-ew the portraits of many of the visitors at Down Hall, the residence of that celebrated Johnian, Matthew Prioi-, imder which he was accustomed to write verses. They frequently amused themselves in this way with a select party of friends, and with any kind of light repartee between the interval of dinner and supper. Under the head of the Rev. Timothy Thomas, chaplain to Lord Oxlbrd, Prior wrote, — " This phiz so well di-awn, you may easily know, Was done by a knight for one Tom with an O." At another time, he wrote under the head of Christian, the engraver, — " This, done by candle-light, at hazard. Is meant to show Kit Christian's mazard." THE THREE ASSES. Tlie following anecdote was printed in an old collection of Cambridge jests, printed a. d. 1600. A Quaker, walking through the streets of the University, was met by three jolly ("antabs, who, going up to him, the first said, — " Good morning. Father Abraham ;" " Good morning, Father Isaac," added the second ; " Good morning, Father Jacob," ejaculated the third. " I am neither Abraham, Isaac, nor Jacob (said Hezekiah Prim), but Saul, the son of Kisli, who was sent out to seek his father's Asses, and, lo ! I have L 2 148 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. found them." Dwelling upon the latter part of the sentence witli a nasal-twajig — secundum artevi. PITT'S DEVOTION TO ENGLAND. This celebrated Cantab and Statesman, once being asked by a friend, " Why he neglected tlio blandishments of a certain fair lady, who lost no opportunity of throwing her- self in his way?" replied, " That he iran alreadij united to Mrs. Britain, wlio took up so much of his attention, that he had little time for dalliance with a mistress." REMINISCENCES OF JEMMY GORDON. .Jemmy Gordon, that was, is now no more ; but he was at least one of us by sufferance, and no legitimate son of Alma Mater will 'grudge him a comer for the following remembrances of him. No man's life is more calcidated " to adorn a moral, and to point a tale," than poor .Jemmy's, whose memory will be cherished as long as Granta exists. His father was chapel-clerk to Trinity College : a man " Who kept the noiseless tenor of his way;" — but Jemmy, alas ! was destined to cut a figure in the world. He was bred to the profession of a solicitor, and was not a little esteemed for his talents, till lie fell in love with a fair belle, wlio fell from her plighted faith, and, on dit, cut poor Jemmy for the more attractive allurements held out by a noble under-graduate, with whom she '^ loped off." Poor Jemmy, deserted by woman, took to wine, and, from that time forward, might be said, " barclianaHa vivere," being . too often bene 'potus before sun-rise ! But Jemmy was a scholar, literally a scholar, and many a classic theme and declamation did he pen for non-reading men, one of which is known to have obtained the college prize. He was. FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 149 during term-time, the boon companion of the Sfoi, but vacation was to him incarceration, for Jemmy generally spent twn-term under the surveillance of a bailiff, from which situation he was generally relieved by a subscription among those of the Bs^i. who requii-ed his aid, or enjoyed his repartee over " a biunper of sparkling wine." At one time (says a Cantab, writing of him just before his death,) he possessed " fame, wealth, and honours :"' now his "fame" is a hapless notoriety ; all the "wealth" that re- mains to him is a form that might have been less careworn had he been less careless; his honour is " air — thin air;" " his gibes, his jests, his flashes of men-iment, that were wont to set the table in a roar," no longer enliven the plenteous banquet : — " Deserted in liis utmost need By men his fonner bomity fed ;" the bitter morsel for his life's support is parish dole. " The gayest of the gay" is forgotten in his age — in the darkness of life; when reflection on what vjas cannot better what is. Brilliant circles of acquaintance sparkle with frivoUty, but friendship has no place withiir them. The prudence of sensuality is selfishness." MAKING A KNIGHT. Jemmy met a gentleman, well-known in Cambridge, soon after his Sovereign had conferred upon him the honour of knighthood, and, going up to him, he said, with more wit than politeness : — " The King, by merely laying sword on, Might make a knight of Jemmy Gordon : ^VHio, to save from rustication, Crams the dunce with declamation!" 150 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. PUTTING A STOP TO PILGRIMS PROGRESS. At another time, meeting the prosecutor of a felon, named Pilgrim, who was convicted and sentenced to be transported at the Cambridge assizes then holden, Jemmy exclaimed, " You have done. Sir, what the Pope of Rome could never do; you have put a stop to Pilgrim's Pro- gress !" Once, haN-ing pledged his coat for half-a-crown, he entreated of a gontlciiian, he met, sufficient to redeem it, which, being complied witli, he drily observed, with more wit than piety in the allusion, " Now I know that my redeemer liveth!" Jemmy, one day, came in contact with a person of verj' indifferent character, when he happened to be without shoes or stockings; and the gentleman, pitying his con- dition, told him, if he called at his house, he would give him a pair of shoes, — " Excuse me. Sir (replied Jennny, assuming a contemptuous air,) I would not stand in your shoes for all the world !" THE CAMBRIDGE LECTURES, AS I REMEMBER THEM SOME TIME AGO. I never was entirely an idler, though I lament many days wasted in the best part of my life. Irregular in my pur- suits, I seldom kept them long in view. I followed with zeal, while the novelty lasted, and thus saw much, and heard much, perhaps with attention ; but, from a want of that steady and regulated perseverance, which alone leads to excellence, I fall far short of the promises which imagi- nation once held out in the heated moments of early ambi- tion. They are gone; but as the grey hairs have not yet FACETl^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 151 appeared, and as life has better things than dejection and despair, I look upon the future with sanguine hopes, and on tlie past with as pleasant feeUngs as I can. Perhaps, to a faidt, I love to ponder upon things that are not, or give them a new existence in the store-house of memory. Here, then, I shall write down some of my recollections. I shall record the characters of the different lecturers I sometimes heard, when I wore the blue gown at Trinity College, where I loitered away many an hour, and devoted many a long evening to merriment and lavighter, which should have been more seriously employed. I begin vnth Daniel Edward Clarke, the enthusiastic traveller. He is now no more ; he only lives in our recollection. To give a correct idea of the energy and animation of this man's character, requires a more forcible pencil than mine. I msh to paint him to the life ! I wish to send out a portrait which cannot be mistaken by those who have seen Clarke some years ago, when he was among us in full vigour and spirit. But for tliis we must go to the lecture-room ; we must fancy ourselves a Uttle younger, and the professor still alive ; Ave will wile away a few minutes over the beautifid specimens which are so delicately arranged upon the table, and the surroimding cases, from the primitive formation of granite to tlie costly stores and precious metals ; the blow-pipes too, whose intense heat in fusing metal has so much assisted the science ; the picture of the grotto of Antiparos, with its beautiful stalactites and crystal floor ; the ingenious section of the strata of this island; the green god of the New Zealandei-s ; and a vast collection of curious and pre- cious things. But the Professor has entered -with his papers in his hand, and a favourite specimen ; intelligence and genius are depicted on his strongly marked countenance. His earnest manner of recommending his darling pursuits, shows that his heart and soul are wrapt in it. To a full 152 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. audience he mentions the names of some ambitious travel- lers among his pupils, who have brought him specimens from Scandinavia, Switzerland, and the Pyrenees. He calls for their wonder and admiration at their superlative beauty ; whether they be diamonds or bits of rock. Kvery thing is matter for wonder with him. He is no cold specidator, but an enthusiast: he will tell you that the very streets will yield us gold from the dust wo tread on ; he would fain have us believe that we shall liiul gold mines in abundance among the rocks and cliffs of the West of England ; but woe to tlie wretch who adventures upon this hopeless enterjM-ise. All this is very amusing ; and the many anecdotes which are related, by way of illustration, some- times makes the lecture a rich treat. His extensive travels gives him great opportunities. The moi'e serious and severe amongst us consider his speculations as trifUng and useless. But the Professor has an equal contempt for their trivialities, and throws back their arrows upon them. He is invulnerable to such attacks. He finds " Books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." Alas, to one enemy he has been forced to yield ; his chair is no longer occupied and sustained with tlie fervid zeal, or his pursuit set forth with the elegant language we have so often heard. He is gone; and the cheerful home, where many of us enjoyed his hospitality and entertaining conver- sation, is now destroyed. His beautiful widow, and his little children, are all far from the place. There is now nothing to remind us of this good man, but his specimens and the Eleusinian Ceres. I must now speak of the Professor of Geology, the .subterranean lecturer. How shall I describe the physiog- nomy of Adam Sedgewick ? Shall I give him the eye of FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 153 the hawk, the head of the eagle, and the ferocious look of the wolf; with a multitude of other qualities to make up this strange "wild fowl?" Truly, I would scarcely hope to look upon so sinister a visage. If you recoil from it with alarm, you have only, as in similar cases, to look it in the face steadily, and your terrors will cease. You may find reasons for liking it at last. Heavens ! what an impetuous tongue ! yet the lai'um is never down : an incessant rattle, with a worthy contempt for the flowers of rhetoric. Now we traverse the globe with him ; or descend into the bowels of the earth, freeze upon the Alps, climb Mont Blanc, totter on the Andes, or, disguised in a dirty frock, descend into a Cornish tin mine. Yet, in the costume he would have us wear, if we leave our letters of recommend- ation at any gentleman's house, there is a possibihty of our being driven from the door by a pampered menial, the parish beadle dispatched to see us beyond the limits of the neighbourhood, or we may be subjected to the parochial inflictions on dirty vagabonds. Such things have happened. Poor wandering geologist, what ills art thou heir too ! With a green satchel strung over his shoulders, and a mattock in his hand, this philosopher has worked his way among the natural curiosities of England : his toilsome tour speaks higldy for his indefatigable perseverance : and his erudite treatises which we now and then read in the Philosophical Society, clearly sliow hiin to be one of a powerful mind and surpassing talent, who has made excellent use of liis oppor- tunities. His Woodwardian lectures are very amusing, anti-Wenierian to the bone. He will sometimes give a field-lecture, taking some select philo-geologists on a pedes- trian excursion, a few miles into the country. He has not yet adopted Professor Buckland's mode, at Oxford, of lecturing on horseback. That is a grotesque lecture, like a coursing meeting, or an otter hunt. The students are 154 FACETI^ CANTABKIGIENSES. riding about, over hedges and ditches, till the Professor has discovered a subject worthy of remark, when they all obey the whistle which calls them round him to listen to his observations. I prefer Sedgewick's lectiu-e, as it is much less troublesome ; and, under favour of the Oxonians, I would say, more amusing. With his excellent map of the country, and that valuable collection before us, such a lecturer, so accomplished and so conuuunicative, is an estimable advan- tage to students. Long may he occupy his chair; may he continue his present pursuits with the same ardour as he commenced them ; and may he live long to be the ornament of the University, which is so proud of him. The utility of the science is obvious. Without it we must remain ignorant of the resources and wealth of our own coimtry ; without it we must pass through others unobserving, unedified, unacquainted with the pecidiarities which distinguish one from the other, and return home with little more increase of knowledge than that of babbling tongues and senseless faces. Come with me to hear Professor Farish : the hour will be well employed. The experimental philosopher has laid out all his apparatus of cog-wheels, cylinders, bars, pulleys, cranks, screws, blocks, &c., and, with a complacent smUe, is contemplating the ingenious combination of all the parts. In the simplest, almost approaching to infantine, manner, he explains all the intricate modes by which these wheels work upon one another, their multipliers, their momentums, and their checks. His sawing-machines, his hat manufactory, his oil-press, and cannon foundry, are abundant sources of entertainment. In the latter we see the whole process, from the casting to the firing off of the instnniient of war. His explanations of the art of mining and ship-building are perfect in clearness and precision; and the air of simplicity which he throws over the whole is such that the student cannot but smile at the seeming FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 155 fticility of the subject, and the serene indifference with which the Pi-ofessor treats of the most complex machinery. Under all this appearance of smiplicity, it is discoverable that he is a great man. He is one of the best mathema- ticians the last age produced. A new kind has spnmg up amongst us of late : since his time science has been greatly increased by introductions from foreign schools ; but it remains to be proved, whether the finesse and nicety of the present system is of greater use in strengthening the mind than that which exercised the talents of Newton. Who- ever is destined to occupy any situation of distinction, or public utility, cannot do better than add to his stock of information the matter of these very improving lectures: he can never go unimproved away ; he will carry with hira into hfe so much ingenious knowledge, if he has given his attention to the course, that he will everywhere meet with consideration and respect, while he can render service or furnish instruction. I always thought the study of Political Economy essen- tial to a gentleman's education. I was a frequent, al- most constant, attendant upon Professor Pryme. Many object to til is study, as a dry, uninteresting complica- tion of theories, which only harass or perplex the mind ; — that it has a dangerous tendency, and is calculated to give the statesman's politics a discontented turn. Such is the language of smatterers and sciolists ; flies that have not power enough to burst the spider's web. " Drink deep, or taste not," is a precept as applicable to this as to any other branch of knowledge. The slender stock of the casuists is just enough to cause their own alarms; if they had pro- ceeded to inquire with greater minuteness, the advantages would have instantly suggested themselves, and they woiUd have obtained that entire and co);iprehcnsive view of the sul)ject which eiulows the mind with justur notions. There is scarcely a topic, even the conunonest in the affairs 156 FACETI-'E CANTABRIGIENSES. of life, wliich is not connected with political economy. It is true that there is a great diversity of opinion among the leading authors, Malthus, Ricardo, and others ; hut prac- tical knowledt^^e and experience will correct many errors, and reconcile most of their dill'erences. Pryme is a native of Yorkshire, and, as well as others of his countrymen, is not a very pleasing orator ; but he is a man of talent, and has concpiered his natural disadvantages. By the precision which he has gained by an excellent education, he has made his course of lectures a systematic and luminous ex- position of his favourite science. I own, it requires a strong liking to the study to go through it to the end. " AU- quando bonus don/iitaf." The good man sometimes nods; but those who want information will wait patiently for it. Those who have ' itching ears' will think their time thrown away. He has lately instituted conversaziones on Saturday evenings at his own house, which a few students attend, who wish to obtain explanations of knotty points in a more famihar manner than the public lectures allow of. This is a great advantage ; and, besides, is a sacrifice, on the part of the Professor, which deserves the gratitude of those who have enjoyed his society, and received so many kind atten- tions. There is one person who must not be passed over without notice, because he is a remarkable instance of the manner in which men may make their own fortunes, and raise themselves, by their own great exertions, to a state of comparative independence, from the lowest situations in life. Professor Lee's powers of mind must be of the high- est order, if the account generally received of his extensive learning be tnie. Under every difficulty and disadvantage, he made himself a profound scholar. To accomplish this end, it is said of him, that he purchased the elements of his classical and oriental library with the bounty which lie received on entering the militia, as a private soldier ; and FACETIjE cantabrigienses. 157 in that obscure character he laid the foundation of liis pre- sent fame. The lionours of the University, which has adopted this self-taught son of science, are but just tributes to his acknowledged merits and celebrated learning. His Hebrew lectures are attended by many young men, who, by their researches into those hitherto too much neglected paths of sacred literature, aim at distinction in their profes- sion. The fountains of learning are here opened with no niggard hand; and those fertilizing streams are poured forth on cultivated soils, which may well be expected to produce the fairest fruits. There are many other names which deserve attention ; but their pursuits are not so popular as those I have already mentioned, or they are confined to particidar professions. The Professor of Botany is superannuated. The Professors of Medicine are heard very patiently by embryo physicians and young apothecaries. They are all excellent in their different departments : I have no inclination to decide be- tween them, or their more important rivalry with the Ma- chaons of Edinburgh. I must remark by the way, respect- ing anatomy, that although the Professor is a man of great talents, and has a very pleasant manner of communicating his knowledge, still I shoidd wish to see none among his auditors but those who intend to embrace the medical pro- fession exclusively. It requires deep attention, and must absti-act a young man's thoughts from Iris prescribed stu- dies ; so that when he engages with his contemporaries in the contest of honours, he finds how entirely he has misap- j)lied his time and talents. I have known instances of such failures. K. Q. M. 158 FACDTIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. A SKETCH OF CERTAIN PROFESSORS AND LECTURERS. BISHOP MARSH. " Herbert Marsh, the Margaret Professor of Divinity," says a contemporary, " is altogether the first man in Cam- bridge at the present time. He is an ornament to this Universit)', and he would be an ornament to any society that ever existed. But he was not formed in Cambridge. He went to the Continent very shortly after he graduated — studied theology under Michaelis — ransacked the stores of German literature — wrote one of the ablest periodicals of the day, called " British Politics Defended," which did his country incalculable sei-vice on the Continent, and wliich ultimately became so odious to Buonaparte, that he pro- scribed Marsh. He was concealed several months by his host, and attended by his host's daughter. He was not un- grateful for these services, for he niai-ried this lady shortly after his appointment to the Divinity Professorship. He is intolerant; but he supports his opinions like a man, and is tlie very best pamphleteer of the day." PROFESSOR SMYTHE. " At an immense distance below Marsh, but undoubtedly second in the University, is Smythe, the Professor of Mo- dern History. He is, in private life, a most amiable man ; thoroughly acquauited with his business ; a Whig in poli- tics; but his lectures, admirable alike for their elegance, and various information, and profound research, contain not a breath of party spirit. The man Avho has an oppor- tunity of attending these lectures, has reason to congratu- late himself on his good fortune. For my own part, I have only regretted since, that I did not devote my days and nights to the mastering, thorouglily, the rich stores of FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. 159 thought and knowledge which they would have developed. The publication of these lectures would be an invaluable treasure to the youth of this country, but he permits no one to take notes ; and I fancy that, at all events, he does not intend to publish them during his hfe." PROFESSOR WOODHOUSE. " Woodhouse, the Plumian Professor of Astronomy, has added httle or nothing to the stock of science. I know not that he has made any attempt at original investigation, ex- cept in a paper in the ' Transactions of the Royal Society,' on the Rectification of the Ellipsis. He has written a mul- titude of elementary treatises on mathematics, most of them very excellent, and laid the foundation for introducing the continental methods in Cambridge, which was completed by a bad measure of Mr. Peacock's, of Trinity." THE LECTURERS. " So much for the public Professors. A word or two I must spare for the most conspicuous of the College Lec- turers. Mr. W 1, one of the tutors of Trinity, I hold to be by far the nearest approximation to the celebrated trio I have already named. His mind is framed on the same model, — bold, vigorous, and excursive; but circum- stances have circumscribed, or rather directed his career into a channel in which he will never descend to posterity. Elementary treatises in sciences, (and he has written the very best that Cambridge ever produced), are temporary in their existence, and partial in their circulation. The ' Apo- logy for the Bible ' will be read over three quarters of the globe, when every name now in Cambridge shall be for- gotten." " MR. K— G, Tutor of Queen's College, graduated some five or six years 160 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. ago. He was Senior Wrangler, and took that degree with liiglicr distinction than perhaps any other man ever did. He niKjIit have heen one of the first niatliematicians in Europe : he is the Tutor of a College. His extraordinary powers of acquisition, the energy of his mind, and the vigour of his temperament, are wholly employed in making college bills, arranging college squabbles, and looking after the morals of freslnncn. His knowledge of mathematical sci- ence was most extensive, and his mastery complete. At present the game of Whist is his favourite study; and pro- bably he will end his career much more familiar with Hoyle than La Place. The man that might have rescued the name of English science from contempt, is fast ap- proaching the honour of a three-bottle man in a tippling College, and of the best Whist-player in a gambling Uni- versity. The resident Fellow, who in his youth spends his afternoons over bad port, and his nights in card-playing, in the decline of life becomes, as a matter of course, a silly and besotted old woman, in a Doctor's gown." " MR. P K Is mathematical lecturer in Trinity College, one of the translators of La Croix, and one of the best compilers of the ' Sii])pleinent of Examples.' He has a clear head, and a prodigious industry, has read more mathematics probably than any three men of his age now living ; but he does not possess a single particle of invention." "MR. G N, A lecturer in St. John's, the neatest and the most clear- headed mathematician in Cambridge ; the best private tu- tor, and the best mathematical lecturer in the University. He is an excellent Moderator, and his examination papers are models of clearness and judgment. Of any other FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. 161 knowledge, whether of the most ordinary affairs of life, or of questions which occupy the public mind, or are likely to influence the public happiness, he is as innocent as an Es- quimaux. CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE OF DR. ISAAC MILNER. Sizars, as every body knows, are poor students, enjoying certain pecuniary privileges, and formerly subject to certain degrading duties and services, which have for many years been abolished in Cambridge. The small colleges, how- e\'er, still retain one mark of distinction, compelling them to wear a paltry kind of gown, which no parish-clerk or beadle would adorn his shoulders withal. Why do they not take a lesson from the two great Colleges, Trinity and St. John's, which, aware that they are the class of men from whom the lights of the University have sprung, have long since aboHshed the distinction. The services which, in days of yore, were rendered by the Sizars, consisted in ringing the chapel bell in the morning, serving up i\\e first (hsh to the Fellows at dinner, &c. When Dr. Isaac Mil- ner first went up to Cambridge, these services were still exacted. He happened one day to scatter on the floor of the hall the tureen of soup which was intended to regale the Fellows, and is said to have exclaimed, in rejily to some sharp rebukes, " By G — d, but when I get into power, I will do away with this nuisance." The " when I get into power" was the subject of many a burst of laughter over the bottle, in the Combination-room. But he was as good as his word, although they could not see, under his rough dialect and unpolished manners, the fxiture President of the College. They could not see, that in a few years he was to be, to use his own expression, the " cock o' the midden" at Cambridge. 162 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. PEACOCK'S PARAPHRASTIC CIIAUNT A LA WIIEWELL'S MECHANICS. The appearance of the first voUime of a Treatise on Me- chanics, by a celebrated member of the Combination of Trinity College, had, of course, been looked forward to with considerable expectation, and high mathematical anti- cipations were indulged in, which were considerably height- ened by unfoi-eseen delays. ItcUd, however, at last appear; and, whatever may be the feeUngs of an author on the faulty or successful publication of a work which has been anxiously desired by the circle with which he may be sur- rounded, it is certain that Mr. W.'s annoyances were not decreased by the general ojjinion of the style of langiiage in which his System of Statics and Dynamics was written. On the day of publication, as usual, the learned author dined in Hall, and afterwards joined the numerous com- pany of Fellows in the Combination-room ; and, as he was wont, most facetiously was assisting to " keep the table in in a roar," when lo! a hero, yclept George Peacock, vulyo Cupid, advanced with a napkin in his hand, and, in the eager excitation of the moment, was about to give the mighty Whewell a smart congratulatory fillip, had not Whewell, with admirable dexterity, caught the offending napkin in his hand, when, pulling it with all his might, the disappointed (leorge Peacock chaunted the following lofty strain, in the shape o{ a paraphrastic, almost verbatitn quo- tation from the new-born book : — " Hence no force, however great, Can stretch a cord, however fine, Into a horizontal hne, That is correctly straight." FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. 163 A DELICATE MORSEL. A son of Granta, whose delight was rather in the sports of the field than in strutting about the streets of the Uni- versity a la Cantab, had been out very early one morning at a fox-chase ; from which returning at a late hour, his api^etite became so excessively keen, that it was not to be resisted, and accordingly he resolved to beg alms at the first farmhouse he might light on. His sight, rendered keener by the cravings of his stomach, he soon espied a small house at some distance, which having gained, he ofiered his humble petition to mine hostess. The old dame courtesied, begged our hero would alight, and regretted she had no better cheer to offer him than the remnant of a meat pie, the remains of their own frugal meal. " Any- thing is better than nothing," cried the Cantab, at the same time entreating she would not delay a moment in placing it before him ; for he already devoured it in ima- gination, so keen was his hunger. " Here it is," said the dame, producing it at the same instant fi-om a small cup- board near the elbow of our sportsman, who turned round as she spoke — " Here it is. Sir ; it is only made of the odds and ends, but may hope your honour would like it, though it has mutton and beef, and all that in it." " Charming ! my good woman, it needs no apology ; I never tasted a more delicious morsel in my life!" continued the Cantab, as he swallowed, or rather devoured, mouthful after mouthful. " But there is^.v// in it too," said he, as he greedily sucked what he supposed to be a bone. " Fish !" exclaimed the old dame, looking intently on what the sportsman had got in his hand : " fish, nae, Sir, — why lack a day (cried she) ! if that beant our Billy's comb !" M ij 164 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. OVER-WISE. In a lecture-room of St. John's College, Cambridge, a student one morning, constniing or translating some part of a Greek tragedy (the Medea of Euripides), came to the following passage — AXX' ovx aficofof £i^^(. To which he gave the proper sense — " I am not over-wise ;" but pausing as if he doubted its correctness — "You arc quite right, Sir," observed the humorous lecturer; "go on." TRUTH AND RHYME. In the days of Charles II., candidates for holy orders were expected to respond in Latin to the various interro- gatories put to them by the bishop or his examining chap- lain. When the celebrated Dr. Isaac Barrow (who was fellow of Trinity College, and tutor to the immortal Newton) had taken his bachelor's degree, and disengaged himself from collegiate leading-strings, he presented himself before the bishop's chaplain, who, with the stiff stern visage of the times, said to Barrow — " Quid est fides r (what is faith?) " Quod non vides" (what thou dost not see), answered BaiTow with the utmost promptitude. The chaplain, a little vexed at Barrow's laconic answer, con- tinued — " Qtiid est spes ?" (what is hope?) " Mdfjna res" (a great thing), replied the young candidate in the same breath. FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. 165 " Quid est charitas V (what is charity ?) was the next question. "Magna rar'itas" (a great rarity), was again the prompt reply of Barrow, blending tnith and rhyme with a precision that staggered the reverend exa- miner ; who went direct to the bishop and told him, that a young Cantab, of philosophic mien (the faces of reading men in those days being generally in the likeness of in- verted isosceles triangles), had thought proper to give rhyming answers to three several moral questions ; and added, that he believed his name was Barrow, of Trinity College, Cambridge. " Barrow, Barrow !" said the bishop, who well knew the literary and moral worth of the yoimg Cantab, " if that's the case, ask him no more questions ; for he is much better qualified," continued his lordship, " to examine us than we him." Bari'ow received his letters of orders forthwith. TRUTH versus POLITENESS. At a tea-party, where some Cantabs happened to be present, after the first dish had been handed round, the lady, who was presiding over the tea equipage, " hoped the tea was good." " Very good indeed, madam," was the general reply, till it came to the turn of one of the Cantabs to speak, who, between truth and politeness, shrewdly ob- served, " That the tea was excellent, but the water was smoky .'" PRESENCE OF MIND. Tlie arm of Dr. Barrow, like his argument, was powerful, as the following instance of his prowess, humanity, and love of reasoning, as related by his biographer, will show. Being on a visit to a friend in the country, he rose before 166 TACETL'E CANTABRIOIENSES. daybreak one moniing, and went into the yard. He had scarcely left the door, when a large Englisli mastiff, left loose to guard the premises during the night, sprung upon him. Barrow gra])pled with the dog, threw him on the ground, and himself upon him. In this position he re- mained, till one of the servants made his appearance, who instantly called off the dog, and extricated the doctor from his perilous situation. " Why didn't you strangle him, doctor?" asked the man. "Because," answered BaiTow, •* the brute was only doing his duty ; and I thought within myself, as I kept him under me, if we all did the same, how much happier the community would be." A FAREWELL SCENE. Christopher Anstcy, who was bred at King's College, and well known in the world as the author of the " Netv Bath Guide," and an elegant version of Gay's Fables, was, during his residence in the University of Cambridge, ex- tremely irregular in his conduct. For something which was deemed a serious breach of the college i-ules, he was required to make an apology to the heads of the society to which he belonged : he accordingly appeared before the parties at the appointed time ; but, instead of apologizing, lie aggi'avated his offence by making several observations, which were deemed insolent and impertinent. He was now threatened with rustication, forfeiture of collegiate honours, &c. imless he offered a very serious apology ; for which purpose he was convened before the whole college on a day named. Anstey entered the Combination-room (where sat the doctors, masters of arts, bachelors, and others of his college), amidst a profound silence, and, with hypocritic phiz and affected contrition, he ])roceeded to address the dignitaries of Gi'anta. Turning towards the doctors, he thus began — " Valete, doctores sine doctrind!" FACETI.® CANTABRIGIENSES. 167 (Farewell, ye doctors without learning!) Then to the masters of arts, he continued — " Valefe, magistri sine arti- bus .'" (Farewell, ye masters without arts ! Lastly, facing the bachelors, he exclaimed — " Denique valefe, haccalaurei digniores haculo /" (At length farewell, ye bachelors woi-thy of a thrashing !) So sapng, with a sarcastic inclination of the head, he walked out. It is needless to add, he was despoiled of his honoiu-s, degraded, and expelled. To the imfortmiate conclusion of this affair, he alludes in the fol- lowing couplet of his " Bath Guide :" " On the margin of Cam, where, studious of ease, I spent seven long years, and then lost my degrees." READY REPLY. It is generally known that the grass-plots in the college courts, or quadrangles, as they are called in Oxford, are not for the unhallowed feet of the under-graduates ; indeed, it is, in one college in Cambridge, a fine of itvo and six- pence for any man of the college in statu j^upillari to pol- lute them ; but these regulations are rather intended to preserve the turf, than for distinction. Some, however, are hardy enough to venture, in despite of all remonstrance. The late Bishop of Bristol, then master of Trinity, had often observed a student of his college invariably to cross the green, when, in obedience to the calls of his appetite, he went to hall to dine. One day, the bishop determined to reprove the delinquent for invading the rights of his supei-iors, and for that purpose he threw up the sash at which he was sitting, and called to the student—" Sir, I never look out of my window, but I see you walking across the grass-plot." " My lord," replied the offender instantly, " I never walk across tlie grass-plot, but I see you looking out of your window." The prelate, who well knew how to 168 FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. appreciate a retort, pleased at the readiness of the reply, closed his window, convulsed with laughter. NOT vers Its NOTT. A gentleman of Maudlin, whose name was Notf, hap- pening one evening to he out, was returning late from hia friend's rooms in rather a merry mode, and, withal, not quite ahle to preserve his centre of gravity. In his way he attracted the attention of the proctor, who demanded his name and college. "I am Xoll of Maudlin," was the reply, hiccupping. " Sir," said the proctor, in an angry tone, " I did not ask of what college you are not, but of what college you are." " I am Nott of Maudlin," was again the broken reply. The proctor, enraged at what he considered contumely, insisted on accompanying him to Maudlin, whither having arrived, he demanded of the por- ter, " whether he knew the gentleman." " Know him, sir," said the porter, "yes, it is Mr. Nott of this college." The proctor now perceived his error in 7wt imderstanding the gentleman, and, laughing heartily at the affair, wished him a good night. A VERY CUTTING RETORT. Archbishop Tillotson had, by some means, incurred the displeasure of Sir John Trevor, who had been expelled the House of Commons for several misdemeanors. Sir John, one day meeting Tillotson, cried out, " I hate to see an Atheist in the shape of a churchman." " And I," rephed the archbishop, " hate to see a knave in any shape." THE BLUE BOAR. In olden times, the students of the different colleges in Cambridge obtained various nicknames ; but why or where- fore are questions few persons are qualified to answer FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 169 generally. For instance, tiie men of Trinity College are called bull-dogs ; Maudlin men, rats ; Clarehall men, grey- hounds, &c. ; and since the men of St. John's College ob- tained the name of hogs, it is no very uncommon thing for men of other colleges to say, when they see a pig, " There goes a Johnian." It is necessary to inform some of our readers, that the gown-men of Trinity wear blue gowns, but the toga worn by a Johnian is black. It happened on a day, that a Trinitarian, brimful of champagne, was passing by the sign of the Blue Boar (which lumg nearly opposite his own college, and had been newly painted and richly gilt), with his spirits raised to the (Nth-|-1), when the sign attracted his attention, and, nimbly climbing the post from which it hung suspended, he in an instant wrenched it from the hinges and dashed it to the ground, exclaiming, <' D me, if a Johnian shall wear a blue gown .'" BILLET FOR BILLET. A tutor of Queen's College, Cambridge, was much an- noyed one day, when dining in hall, by the loquacity of an under-graduate, who sat at an opposite table to himself; indeed, so much so, that flesh and blood could bear it no longer ; and calling one of the ggps, who was waiting at table, he wrote with his pencil, on a shp of paper, the fol- lowing elegant reproof: — " Vir sapit qui pauca loquitur.'" (A wise man talks little.) The under-graduate, without hesitation, turned over the paper, and wrote on the blank side, — " Vir loquitur qui pauca sapit," (The man talks who is a little wise), and returned the paper to the tutor by the same hand that brought it. 170 TACT.TIJE CANTABRIGIENSES. UNCONSCIOUS VANITY. It is said l)y a writer of no small credit in the literary horizon, '" f/uit a mail's sense of f/is own snperioiity may heget a degree of pardonable vanity." This has been truly exemplified in the person of a gentleman holding an official situation in the University of Cambridge. It is related, that when he was examined for his degree of B.A. in the Senate-house, he did not succeed very well at first ; but on the last day he challenged the Avholc of those above him, and, although he was far below, he beat them, and was declared Senior Wrangler, or worthy of the first ma- thematical honours of his year. This circumstance caused him to be particularly noticed, and, being of rather a bashful turn, he imagined persons to be observing him, ■when, in fact, their attention was directed to other objects. The following is a remarkable instance of this kind. He went to London soon after his success, and during his stay, he one night visited one of the large theatres. It so hap- pened that his late Majesty, George the Third, entered the theatre at the same instant with our hero, and of course the whole audience rose ; our Senior Wrangler, imagining the honour to be intended for himself, all abashed, ex- claimed, " This is too much!" DEAFNESS, FEAR, AND IMAGINATION. The Rev. Mr. D , of Trinity College, Cambridge, whose residence was well known to dean, porter, and cook, of that splendid and royal foundation, by his irregidarities and epicureanism, as to the literary world by his amusing and scientific jniblications, fell into the river Cam, on a raw and gusty day in December, as he was disjilaying his skill in skaiting ; an exercise in which he had attained such skill and proficiency, that Hal Broec/c, at the Hague, who FACKTLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 171 could cut his own name in German text, on the ice, could scarcely have competed with him. The effect of this un- fortimate ducking was a violent cold, which for a time impaired the mental power which had directed the fluent tongue that had so often set the Trinitarian tables in a roar, and caused the fat sides of Dean B to shake by the half-hour together, whose monstrous coi-poration, when once put in motion by the well-told tale, queer pun, pointed retort, or ludicrous accident, vibrated like a pendulum. The ixatural strength of D.'s constitution ultimately triumphed over the disease, save a severe deafness, which remained a memento of the event, and defied the potency of medicine, though prescribed by the most favoured disciples of iEscu- lapius, or the votaries of Quackiana ; and he was ever after obliged to use an ear-trumpet. One brilliant morning in June, lie set out fi-om Cambridge on a visit to his father, a sporting character, well-known at Tattersal's, and who lived within half an hour's ride of Bury St. Edmund's ; but D , meeting with an old acquaintance at Newmarket, was persuaded to tarry awhile : accordingly, he put up his nag at the Ram, of that place, and adjourned with his friend to an elegant entertainment then about to grace the board. Having dissected the joints, fowls, &c. and de- molished the pasties, the cloth was removed and the glass was filled to many a favourite toast ; but D was, with reluctance, obliged to quit the converse of congenial souls and the delights of Bacchus, for H , wliither his des- tination led him, and for which place he again started at tlie fall of eve. Whether by the potency of the wine or some abstract philosophic speculation, no one caft say ; but certain it is, J) was beguiled from the right course, and, after three hours' riding, he found his pryasus at a dead stand-still, where four cross-roads met, and in a part of the country to wliich he was an utter stranger. Misfor- 172 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. tune seldom comes single-handed, and so it proved witli poor D ; for tlie directio7i-post, which appeared full in his view, had been rendered useless by the attacks of time and little wanton boys; and as well might he have at- tempted to decipher the cabalistic characters of Solomon's seal as those on the post. Just at tliis nick of time he espied an old farmer in a jog-trot pace, making towards him, to his no small consolation ; but so impatient was ^ > that, before the farmer could approach him, he bawled out, " Hallo ! my good man, can you tell me the way to my father's, Mr. D , at H , for I am quite at fault?" " Lack-a-daisy, Sir," answered Ilodge, "you're mortally out o' your way ; whoy, if it be that you want to go to your father's, you must go down hm hinder* lane, and then turn round to the left over yin y'mder common, tlien you'll see a hoi and a pufUid, and the old mills, and master's no'ine acre-piece o' whate ; then keep along the right, and then the left, and down our home medders, and then up the" " Stay, stay, my good friend! (exclaimed D , in the midst of the farmer's harangue) you don't know I am unfortunately dcuf." At the same instant he began to pull out his faithful tnnnpet ; but the farmer no sooner espied the shining end of it, than, setting spurs to his steed, he galloped off with the swiftness of the wind ; for clod, not comprehending D 's last words, mistook it for a blunderbuss, and D for a highwayman. Away went clod, and away went D after him, bawling out for the fellow to sto]), and the fellow roaring out for mercy, not daring to look behind him. Thus they proceeded three or four miles, the muxxle of D 's horse close upon the rump of the farmer's, till at last, coming to the Earl of Bristol's park, the farmer, espying a breach in the paling, • Hin hinder, yin yinder, common expressious in Suffolk, meaning « little further on. FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 173 rode through in a twinkUng, and got clear off, leaving poor D as he had found him. Foi-tunately, however, D discerned a cottage, which having gained, he was by the inmates put in tlie right way, with the consoling informa- tion that he had ten or twelve miles stiU to travel. He had the inexpressible felicity of ending the adventm'e by making didce domiim about twelve at niglit. " I TAKES 'EM AS THEY COME." A Cantab, one day observing a raggamujpn-looldng boy scratching his head at the door of Alderman Purchase, in Cambridge, where he was begging, and tliinking to pass a joke upon him, said, " So, Jack, you are picking them out, are you?" "■ Nah, sar," retorted the urchin; "I takes 'em as they come!" CATCHING COLD. Dr. B — , well known in the University for his urbanity of manners, is characterized for many eccentricities and singularities. He not unfrequently rises at four in the morning ; and, that he may not disturb those who have no relish for so doing, lights his own fire. One morning, he sent express for his barber, a little dapper man of four feet some inches, to shave and dress him. When he entered, the doctor, his usual custom, inquired how he was. Shaver, coughing, rej)lied, "he had caught a bad cold." "Have you so," said the doctor, smiling; "how can it be other- wise, when you are six feet long, and your bed hut four." " PUPPIES NEVER SEE TILL THEY ARE NINE DAYS OLD." It is related, that when the late Bishop of Bristol beld the office of Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, he one day met a couple of under-graduates, who neglected 174 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. to pay the accustomed compliment of capping, which has prevailed in the University from time immemorial. The bishop an-cstcd their steps, and inquired the reason of the neglect. The two men, all trembling, begged his lord- ship's pardon, observing they were freshmen, and did not know him. " How long have you been in Cambridge ?" asked his lordship. " Only c'lcjht days," was the reply. "Very good," said the bishop; ''puppies never see till they are nine days old!" CHARACTERISTICS. The late Dr. Brand was remarkable for his spirit of con- tradiction, and seemed to make it a part of his ci-eed to differ with others. One extremely cold morning, in the month of January, returning from a walk, he was addressed by a friend with — " It is a very cold morning, doctor." — " I don't know that," was the doctor's observation, though he was at the instant covered with snow. At another time he happened to dine with some gentlemen, and, after the cloth was removed, and genei-al conversation introduced, the doctor, in a very dogmatical maimer, engrossed it almost entirely to himself, and interlarded his observations with Greek and Latin quotations, to tlie annoyance of the com- pany. A gentleman, of no slight erudition, seated next the doctor, remarked to him, " that he ought not to quote so much, as many of the party did not understand it." — " And you are one of them," observed the learned bear. SMART RETORT. Jemmy Gordon, a well-known character in Cambridge, and an occasional visitor at the White Horse, Fetter-lane, was one day walking down Trinity-street, a short time after he had been employed at the tread-mill for a month, with a view to remedy his abusive propensities (which degra- FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 175 dation did not sit on his mind with perfect ease), when he was accosted by a collegian, from his window, who knew Jemmy's antipathy to the event, with, " How do you like the tread-mill, Jemmy ?" — " I don't like your d— d ugly face !" was the reply. A PEDANT CAUGHT NAPPING. It may not be amiss to inform some of our readers, that the only work which has come down to posterity from the pen of Longinus (who held the important situation of first minister to Zenobia, Queen of Palmp-a, when it was sacked by the Emperor Aurelian, by whom he was shamefully put to death, although he had been pronounced by his country- men, the Greeks, the first critic and scholar of the age), is his {nssl ' T^at/f), or Treatise on the Sublime ! A pedantic collegian was boasting, in a large party, of his extensive reading, adding, he had read Longinus over and over again, and thought him a dry fellow. — " Pray, sir," said a grave character near him, " have you ever read his ntji "T>I-oi^; ? (Peri Hupsuus)" — " No, sir," said the pedant, "unfortunately I have read all his works except that." SIMPLICITY OF MATHEMATICIANS. The simplicity of mathematicians has often been commented on ; the following instance, a recent occurrence, is adduced, as exemplifying the truth of the observation, not as tend- ing, by cither its wit or brilliancy, to illuminate our pages. A gentleman, rather deeply read in the abstruse sciences, who stands high in his college examination, and whose liead teems more with the calculation of integrals than with the trifles of general conversation, lately received a visit from the llev. Mr. S — . The reverend gentleman found our mathematician poring over Locke on the Under- standing, and had scarcely seated himself ere he was 176 FACETIjE cantabrigienses. startled with " Pray, sir, have you ever read Locke ?" — " Yes, a little," vas the reply. — " And do you tliink (con- tinued the freshman), that Locke is correct where he says, that the greatest capacity can contain the most ?" — " Assu- redly." — " Well then, sir, I have heen thinking to myself (added tlie freshman, measuring the extent of his own, as he surveyed the liead of the reverend visitor), that my head contains more brains than your's." " MY FATHER WAS PLUCKED BEFORE ME." When a man loses his degree from a want of capacity or negligence, he is said, in collegiate colloquiality, to be plucked. A Cantab, who had qualified himself by keeping his terms, &c. was about to enter the Senate-house, for the purpose of being examined for his degree of B.A., •when, struck with dismay at the formidable arrangement of desks, &c. which met his view, he turned his back upon the whole, declining to be examined, and exclaiming, at the time, " It will be no disgrace for me to lose my degree, for my father was plucked before me." ELEGANT REPROOF. Dr. Isaac Barrow remained faithful to the royal cause during the commonwealth; but, finding himself wholly neglected by the voluptuous and lieedless Charles II., on his restoration, he reminded him of the services he had rendered him and the public, as a divine and loyalist, in the following distich : — " Te magis optabat reditunnn, Carole, nemo ; Et nemo sensit te redidisse minus." IN ENGLISH. None more than I did restoration press ; And none, than I, oh Charles ! have felt is less. FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 177 On the perasal of these lines, Charles was so struck with compunction, that he ordered the first vacant ecclesiastical dignity to be conferred on Barrow ; this was accordingly done, but it came too late in the day for Barrow to enjoy it. So true is the observation often made, " that the Stuarts never rewarded their friends nor punished their foes." SOMNAMBULISM. A fellow of a certain college, in Cambridge, one day fell asleep during the performance of divine service, and his busy imagination conveyed him to his own rooms. Occu- pied with an idea tliat his coal-dealer, who was chapel clerk, had overcharged him, he bawled out, " John N , I wish you'd let me have my coals at the same price as other people have them!" REX HUJUS LOCI. Dr. , then head of a cei'tain college, in Cambridge, understanding from his spouse, who was a thrifty matron, and a crown unto a husband, that their Yorkshire servant, John, used too much candle in the stable, he sent for him, and inquired what he meant by it? — " Please, zm*," said John, " You knaw as how oi uses things as niggardlike as pozzible. Howbeet, zur, won mavni have a bit o'rushlight at noight, to see whon's way about the proimizes. " Tiiie, tnie, John,'' said the doctor, who was remarkable for his urbanity; "true, but you overdo the thing." " How so, zur?"' said John. "How so, fellow?" exclaimed the doctor, " How so ! what d'ye mean by how-soing me over ? You're insolent, fellow, very insolent. You use too much candle a great deal, and are insolent into the bargain ; don't you know, fellow, I'm king of this j)lace ?" — " If so l)e, zur," said John, " as how you be koine/ o' this place, N 178 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. perhaps your majesty will give nie moy discliarge?" It is needless to add Yorky was dismissed tlie service ; and, when tlie circumstances came to be known, the learned doctor retained his regal appellation for many years. THE RETORT CUTTING. Bishops Sherlock and lloadly were both freshmen of the same year, at Catherine Hall, Cambridge. The classical subject in whicli they were first lectured, was Tully's Offices, and it so happened, one morning, that Hoadly received a compliment from the tutor for the excellence of his construing. Sherlock, a little vexed at the prefer- ence shown to his rival (for such they then were), and, thinking to bore Hoadly by the remark, said, when they left the lecture-room, " Ben, you made good use of L'Estrange's translation to-day." — "Why, no, Tom,'' retorted Hoadly, " I did not, for I had not got one; and I forgot to borrow yours, which, I am told, is the only one in the college." A MARVELLOUS HINT. At a party, of which the late Dr. Brand happened to make one, many stories were related by one of the gentle- men, for the entertainment of the company, of a most marvellous descrijition. A pause occurring in the conver- sation, the doctor commenced by saying, " Gentlemen, I will tell my tale. In a country village," continued the doctor, " lived a butcher, who had the curiosity, one day, to view the adjacent country from the top of the village steeple, and, for that purpose, he was shown up by the clerk of the parish. Soon after, they had reached the top, the bells began to ring, Mhich caused the steeple to rock from one side to the other with such velocity, that the butcher, unable to bear the effect (which completely addled his FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 179 brains), leaped from the top ; but reflecting, on his way down, of the eminent risk he ran in alighting, he suddenly ch-ew liis knife from its sheath, stuck it in the wall, and there hung dangling by it, like a hat on a peg, tUl some persons, having obtained a ladder, lifted him down." — " That must be a Ue!" exclaimed the person who had before amused the company so much. — " And, pray, what have you been telHng the whole evening!" said the doctor. Our gentleman was mum. COUPLET FOR COUPLET. Dr. John Jegon, formerly Master of Bene't or Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, for some serious offence, fined all the under-graduates of his own college ; and, instead of applying the money to any private use, as was the custom, he ordered that the college-haU shoidd be whitewashed mth it ; whereupon one of the students, a wag in his way, hung on the skreen the following couplet : — " Doctor John Jegon, of Bene't College, master, Brake the scholars' heads, and gave the wall a plaster." The doctor, passing through the hall next day, saw the above, and, not being wanting in wit, subscribed extem- pore, — " Knew I but the wag that writ these verses in bravery, I'd commend him for his wit, but whip him for his knavery." SARCASTIC EPIGRAM. When death, unrelentingly, cut short the career of Porson, and the election of a Greek professor took place, a Cantab (who was contemporary with him at a public school) wrote the following epigram on one of the can- didates : — N 2 180 FACETI-E CANTACRIGIENSES. EPIGRAM. Actum est Porsofio ! descendit " ^oiSoj Axn"itv." M**ldiis en ! lavipas nil, nisi nigra manet. TRANSLATED. Lo! Person's dead! the sun of Greece is sunk, And nought is left but farthing-rushlight, M**k. ALL WAITERS. In St. Johns Hall, one day, during dinner, there hap- pened to be a gi-eat paucity oi waiters. A gentleman, im- patient at the delay, at length exclaimed, " D — n it, we can't get a waiter!" — "The devil we can't," said Mr. K , who sat opposite, " I think we are all waiters." A BLUNDER. A reverend gentleman of Queen's College, whose duty it was, being unable to perform divine service at his church, in Chesterton, near Cambridge, deputed a divine of Tiinity College, for the Sunday. The Trinitarian, who dined at a lady's in the parish, before service, unwittingly left his sennon on the table. Having finished the prayers, and mounted the pulpit, he put his hand in his coat-pocket for his sennon ; but, alas ! it was not there. However, with great presence of mind, he leaned over the desk and whispered to the clerk (who happened unfortunately to be deaf, and, withal, like most village clerks, a rustic), — " Run, fetch my sermon, which I left on the table in Mrs. Chitteau's parlour." — Amen, misunderstanding the words, immediately bawled out, with stentorian voice, " This is to give notice, that the sermon will be preached, this afternoon, in Mrs. Chitteau's parlour." A MUSICAL BLOW-UP. The Rev. Mr. B , when residing at Canterbm-y, was FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. 181 reckoned a good violincello-player ; but he was not more distinguished for his expression on the instrument, than for tlie peculiar appearance of feature whilst playing it. In fact, when lost in the midst of the adagios of Corelli or Avison, the muscles of his face all sympathized with his fiddle-stick, and kept up a reciprocal movement. His sight, being dim, obliged him very often to snufF the candles, and when he came to a bar's rest, in lieu of snuffers, he generally employed his fingers in that office ; and, lest he should offend the good house-wife by this dirty trick of his, he used to thrust the spoils into the sound-holes of his violincello. A waggish friend of his, who had observed B 's whim, resolved to enjoj' himself "at the parson's expense," as he termed it ; and for that purpose, he popped a quantity of gun-powder into B s instrument. The rest were informed of the trick, and of coiurse kept at a respectable distance. The tea equipage being removed, music became the order of the evening, and after B had tuned his instrument, and drawn his^ stand near enough to snuff his candles with ease, feeling himself in the meridian of his glory, he dashed away at Vanhalls 47th. B came to a bar's rest, the candles were snuffed, and he thrust the ignited wick into the usual place; — fitfragor, and bang went the fiddle to pieces. AN ILLUSTRATION. Milton, the British Homer, and prince of modern poets in liis latter days, and when he was blind (a thing some men do with their eyes open), man-ied a sJirew. The Duke of Buckingham, one day, in Milton's hearing, called her a rose. "I am no judge of flowers," observed Milton, " but it may be so, for I feel the llionts daily." 182 FACETIjC cantabrigienses. NON PAR ERIS. When the mastership of Harrow School became vacant, J3r. Parr applied for it, but was opposed by a learned gen- tleman, who was detested by the boys on account of his temper. At a meeting, previous to the election of a master, the latter gentleman was endeavouring to persuade the boys, in a long harangue, that no person was so well quali- fied for the mastership as himself. At last, however, breathless with speechifying, he made a momentary pause, when one of his juvenile auditory, with most witty and pretty classical allusion, vociferated, — " Si te niperis, non par eris." (If you burst yourself, you'll never equal Parr). A fine compliment to the doctor, alluding to Horace's Fable of the Frog and the Ox. The pun on the word par was so raptm-ously received, that the doctor's opponent was obliged to sit down amidst the laughter of the whole assembly. A NEW READING. At a party of Cantabs, soon after the late queen's trial, one of the gentlemen proposed as a toast, "//;e queens pure innocence." Upon which another of the party rose and said, " I have no objection to the toast, with the substitu- tion of a letter. " To which innovation the proposer con- senting, he gave, "the queen's pure in no sense." DOUBLE ENTENDRE. A person ycleped Danger kept a public inn on the road from Cambridge to Huntingdon. Another inn, nearlv opposite his own, happening to become vacant, Danger ajjpUed for it, thinking it a more eligible situation ; in fact, Danger changed sides. Danger's late residence was, in FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. 183 consequence, in want of a master, and advertised to be let. A tenant was soon found, who, being a waggish feUow, and, witlial, desu-ous that the change of proprietors should be known to wayfaring men, posted over his door, on a board, " No Danger here now." Mr. Danger was sorely troubled at these words, conceiving that tliey intended to imply something more than a mere change of masters, and took an opportunity of mentioning the circumstance to some Cantabs, who called at his house soon after; one of them advised him to place over his door, in equal con- spicuous characters, " Danger from the other side of the tray." This douhle entendre was highly relished, and many, in consequence, were often induced to seek Danger. "A RARE MATHEMATICAL WIND." The late Professor Vince, one moniing (several trees having been blown down the night previous), meeting a friend in the walks of St. John's College, Cambridge, was accosted with, "How d'ye do, Sir? quite a blustering wind this." — "Yes," answered Vince, "it's a rare mathematical wind." — "Mathematical wind!" exclaimed the other; "How so?" — "Why," replied Vince, " it has extracted a gi-eat many roots !" MILTON'S BEAUTY. The beauty of Milton, during the period that he pursued his studies at the University of Cambridge, and to a much more subsequent period, was a subject upon which his friends frequently dwelt. Wandering one day during the summer, as was his custom, beyond the precincts of the university, he at length became heated and fatigued, and, seeking the shade of a spreading tree, he laid himself down to meditate, and soon fell asleep. During the time that he slumbered, two foreign ladies passed near the spot in a 184 fac£ti;e cantabrigienses. carriage, who, astonished at the loveliness of his appear- ance, in the heat of their admiration alighted, and viewing him, as they thought, un})orccivcd, the youngest, who was extremely handsome, drew a pencil from her pocket, and having written some lines upon a piece of paper, put it with a trembling hand into Milton's. They then entered their carriage and proceeded on their journe3^ Some of his academic friends had silently observed his adventure, undiscovered by the fair admirers, not knowing it was their friend Milton who was unconsciously playing the enchanter : but, a])proaching the spot, they recognised him, and, awaking him, told him what had passed. Milton opened the paper, and, to his no small surprise, read the following verses from the Italian poet, Guarini : — " Occhi, stelle mortali, Ministri de mici mali, Se chiusi m'accidete, Apperti che farere ?" TRANSLATED. O eyes ! O mortal stars ! I find ye Authors of lovely pangs that blind me : If thus when shut you've power to wound me. Open, alas ! how hadst thou bound me ? Milton was eager to discover the fair incognita, and it was probably this incident which afterwards carried him to Italy, in hopes of discovering her abode, but in vain. The idea that Milton had formed of his unknown admirer so fanned his poetic fervour, that his own times, the present, and the latest posterity, must propably feel indebted to it for several of the most beautiful and impassioned passages in his Paradise Lost ; and from the above incident, per- haps, he caught the idea of that inimitable poem. FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. . 185 FICTION AND TRUTH. WaUer, the poet, who was bred at King's College, Cam- bridge, wrote a fine panegyi-ic on Cromwell, when he assumed the protectorship. Upon the restoration of Charles, Waller wrote another in praise of him, and presented it to the king in person. After his majesty had read the poem, he told Waller that he wrote a better on Cromwell. " Please your majesty," said Waller, like a tnie courtier, "we poets are always more happy \n fiction than in truth." "SLEEP ON, AND TAKE YOUR REST." A wit at Cambridge, in the days of King James, was ap])ointed to preach at St. Marie's, before the Vice-chan- cellor and the heads of the universitie, who formerlie had observed the drowsiness of the Vice-chancellor, and there- upon took this place of Scripture for his text, " What! can- not ye watch one hour?" At everie division, he concluded with his text, which, by reason of the Vice-chancellor sit- ting so near the pulpit, often awaked him. This was so noted by the wits of those dales, that it was the talk of the whole universitie, and, withal, it did so nettle the Vice- chancellor, that he complained to the Archbishop of Can- terburie, who, willing to redress him, sent for tliis scholar up to London, to defend himself against this crime laid to his charge by the Vice-chancellor ; where coming, he gave so many proofs of his extraordinary wit, that the Arch- bishop enjoined him to preach before King James ; to which, after some excuses, he at length consented, and, comuig into the pulpit, begins, — " James the First and the Sixth, waver not" — meaning the first king of England and the sixth of Scotland. At first, the king was somewhat amazed at the text, but, in the end, he was so well pleased with the sermon, that he made the preacher one of his chaplains in 186 FACETl^ CANTABRIGIENSES. ordinary. After tliis advancement, the Archbishop sent him down to Cambridge to make his recantation to the Vice-clianccllor, rind to take leave of the imiversitie, which he accordingly did, in a sermon, for which he took the lat- ter part of the verse of his former text, " Sleep on now, and take your rest." Concluding his sennon, he made his apo- logy to the Vice-chancellor, saying, ' Whereas, I said be- fore, which gave ofience, '■'■what! cannot ye watch one hour?" I say now, " sleep on, and take your rest," ' and so left the imiversitie. " APROPOS." The Rev. George Harvest, who had been his schoolfellow at Eton, came down to Cambridge to vote for Lord Sand- wich, when he stood candidate for the chancellorship of that university. At a dinner given to his friends on the occasion, his lordship, joking him on some of their school- boy ti-icks, in the simplicity of his heart. Harvest suddenly exclaimed, " Apropos! where do you derive your name of Jemmy Twitclier ?" — "Why," answered his lordship, " from some foolish fellow or other."- — " No, no," inter- rupted Harvest, " it is not some, but every body calls you so." His lordship being seated near the pudding, for which he knew Harvest had no slight relish, put a large slice on his plate, which Harvest immediately attacked, and had the desired effect of putting an end to his apropos, "ALAS! WE CAN'T." At a party where there was no lack of either good port, good fellowship, or hamionj', one of the gentlemen pro- posed, at the end of a song, they should take a ylass. " Would we could have a lass!" exclaimed a second. " A — las! we can't," was the bewail-instanter of a third. FACETI/E CANTABRIGIENSES. 187 SIR BUSICK HARWOOD AND THE CANDLE AND LANTERN. During the period Sir Busick Harvvood was professor of anatomy in the University of Cambridge, lie was called in, in a case of some difficulty, by the friends of a patient, who were anxious for his opinion of the malady. Not approv- ing the treatment which had been pursued towards the in- valid, and, in answer to his inquiry, being told the name of the medical man who had previously prescribed, Sir Busick exclaimed, perhaps with more truth than feeling, — " He ! if he were to descend into the patient's stomach with a candle and lantern, when he ascended he would not be able to name the complaint." HOCK versus FALERNIAN. Some Peter-house fellows, one day as I've heard, Disputed which liquor old Horace prefen*'d, While some were for this sort, and others for that, And back'd their belief with quotations quite pat; Whilst, spite of their joking, the contest ran high. And some would have quarrell'd, but couldn't tell why: Old P — ne, who, till now, had not mov'd tongue or breech, Put an end to the war by this comical speech : — " You may talk of your wines, with a name purely classic. Such as Chiar, Falernian, Lesbian, and Massic; But of this I am sm-e, and it worthy of note is, Hock, hock was his liquor, — ' Hoc erut in votis!' "* A LONG-WINDED SERMON. The erudite Dr. Isaac Barrow, who, it is well known, was tutor to Sir Isaac Newton, during his residence as an under-graduate at Trinity College, Cambridge, was com- • Vide Ilor. Sat. 6. lib. 2. 188 FACETIjE cantabrigienses. plimcnted, by King Cliarles II., with tlie title of tlie best scholar of the age, but called him an unfair one; " for," said the king, " when he once begins a sulycct, he says so much on it, that nobody can say anything on the same point after him." Barrow was certainly very long-winded, and could discern as well as, or better than, any of his co- temporaries, all the positions in which a thesis could be taken ; and, as he reasoned on them in a regular syllogistic style, he seldom omitted anything, pertinent to the proof, for others to say after him. Dr. Pope, in his life of Seth Ward, Bishop of Salisbury, relates the following curious anecdote of him :~Barrow, being appointed to preach in Westminster Abbey, divided his discourse into two parts. The first, on lies; and the second, on slander. He was four hours delivering the first part, so fully had he entered into the subject. The congregation sneaked off, but the dean and prebends coidd not, with i>ropricty, leave till the conclusion of the sermon. But, at last, thinking it woidd be like Aristotle's world, rerAi/Treiov (without limit), they sent a chorister to desire the organist to draw out his trum- pet and open-diapason stop, and i)lay the doctor down. Tliis was instantly done. Dr. Pope afterwards asked Bar- row " if he did not feel himself distressed in the lungs after such a spell at preaching?"—" Not at all," was his reply; " I was only a little tired with standing." SETTLING A POINT OF PRECEDENCE. On a time, a question arose in the University of Cam- bridge, between the doctors of law and tlie doctors of me- dicine, as to which ought to take precedence of the other on pubhc occasions. It was referred to the Chancellor, who facetiously inquired whether the thief or the harujman preceded at an execution, and, being told that the thief usually took the lead on such occasions, — " Well, then," he FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. 189 replied, " let the doctors in law have the precedence, and tJie doctors of medicine be next in rank." This humorous observation set the point in dispute at rest. " JOVIAL DAYS." A party of Johnians were one day assembled in order to moisten the inward man " with a bumper of sparkling wine," when the conversation turned upon a discussion of the different festivals and days — amongst others, sidereal and solar days were named. A dry fish, who looked any- thing but a punster, putting a bumper to his lips, observed, " I think we shoidd have jovial days as well." THE MITRE. One of the wooden mitres carved by Grin. Gibbon over a prebend's stall in the cathedral church of Canterbury happening to become loose, Jessy White, the surveyor of that edifice, inquired of the dean whether he should make it fast — " for, perhaps," said Jessy, " it may fall on your reverence's head." "Well, Jessj', suppose it does!" an- swered the humorous Cantab, — " suppose it does fall on my head, I don't know that a mitre falling on my head would hurt it." A COMPLIMENT RETURNED IN FULL. Porson once happened to be in the company of Dr. Jack- son, an Oxonian, who, thinking to pay the learned Pro- fessor a flattering compliment, said to him, " Porson, you are the only man that ever left the University of Cam- bridge, learned in Greek." The Professor, whose wit, like the " u-hovp halloo!" of a keen sportsman when his dogs are at faidt, was always at command, responded to the doc- tor's flatteiy, " And you, doctor, are the only man that ever left Oxford with any learning at all." 190 " FACEXIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. HYDROSTATICAL EXPERIMENT. Dr. Craven, late Master of St. John's College, excited the wrath of a waggish student, by indulging him with an imposition, for some irregularity of conduct. Sky parlour claimed the honour of being inhal)ited by tliis aspirant to pliilosopliical iume, when, watching an opportunity, as the venerable master was sunning himself beside the college walls, he proceeded to discharge the contents of a huge stone jar upon liis devoted liead : unfortunately, the jar followed the watei", and was near inflicting on the learned doctor the fate of ^scliines. Enraged at this. Dr. Craven issued a summons, commanding the immediate attendance of the inhabitant of that room from whence the pitcher had fallen. Upon his entrance, the doctor exclaimed, " Young man — young man, you had nearly killed your poor old master — you had nearly killed me;" when the unabashed culprit, with the most perfect nonchalance, replied, " I was merely trjing some hijdrostalical experiments." " Hydro- statical experiments!" exclaimed the enraged master, thrown entirely off his guard by the cool answer of the Johnian, " I'd thank you, young man, when next you pursue your hydrostatical labours, not to use such a d — d large pitcher." NOVEL RECEPTION OF A CREDITOR. A gentleman of St. John's College was very fond of pur- suing electrical and other experiments; indeed, so much was he attached to it, that it might justly be denominated his hobby ; and he would occasionally expend money in the purchase of apparatus, which ought, in justice, to have liquidated debts previously contracted: — so Mr. Bishop, the tailor, thought ; and who, accordingly, with a view of dunning the Cantab, after he had mounted the stone stair- FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 191 case which led to the " parlour next to the sky," and in vain beat a tattoo upon the double doors, would slowly descend again. This had been repeated so often to the annoyance of the Johnian, that he resolved at once to cure poor Snip of liis peregrinating projiensities. To this end, he charged his electrical machine more than ordinarily, and fixed the conductor to the latch of the door. Bishop, watched by the Johnian, as usual, ascended the staircase at the expected hour, and was not a little overjoyed to behold but one door between him and his client. He gave a gentle rat-tat: " Come in," echoed from the interior ;^ — -he joyfully grasped the brass nob: — the electric shock was communicated to his sensitive, but not very robust frame, with so much force, that, more dead than alive, he made a jirecipitate re- treat — nor was he in haste to renew his visit. CRITICS. Besides great integrity, great humanity, and other quali- ties alike honoui'able. Dr. Jortin was of a pleasant and fa- cetious tm-n. He had a great respect and fondness for critical learning, which he much cultivated, and thought the restoration of letters and the civiUzation of Europe to de- pend on it. He could not bear to see it contemptuously treated, and did not spare those who had done so. He thus speaks of an oration of Julius Caesar Scaliger, whom he esteemed one of those insolent critics: — " The whole is seasoned with arrogance, vanity, self-applause, spite and scurrility, the usual ornaments, not of a meek and quiet spirit, but of a ruffian and a bruiser in the repubUc of let- ters." CURIOUS ADVERTISEMENT. The following advertisement, drawn up by an alderman 192 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. of the town of Cambridge, some years ago, is here inserted, as a specimen of singular fehcity of expression : — " Whereas a nudtiplicity of damages are frequently oc- cun-cd by damages of outrageous accidents of fire, we, whose names are underwritten, have thought projjer, that the necessity of an engine ought, by us, for the better pre- venting of which, by the accidents of Almighty God, may ha])pen, to make a rate to gather benevolence for better propagathig such instruments," THE GREAT CALF. A company disputing on the superiority of Oxford to Cambridge, a gentleman present remarked that the decision could not affect him, because he was educated at both. — " That," said an old gentleman present, " puts me in mind of a calf, which I remember, when I was a lad, was suckled by two cows." " Really," said the university gentleman ; " and pray, sir, what was the consequence?" " Why, sir, he turned out the greatest calf I ever saw in my life." A DELICATE COMPLIMENT. Dr. Parr, who, it is well known, was not very partial to the " thea linensis," althougli lauded so warmly by a French writer as " nostris gratissima ?>ms?s," being invited to take tea by a lady, with true classic wit and refined gal- lantry, uttered the following delicate compliment : — " Non possum tea cum vivere, nee sine te !" A MATHEMATICIAN'S EPITHALAMIUM, BY A GENTLEMAN OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. Though the sinn, my dear wife, of the days of thy life Should be greater, at length, than i/iji/iity, — Though wrinkles should trace their deep curves on thy face, I would love thee, for years, sine limite. FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 193 While the years I'oU away, and our bodies decay, Our love shall know no aberrations ; But firmly conjoin'd we will always be found, Like impossihle roots in equations. Jealous fears too, I ween, shall ne'er intervene, Perturbing our peaceful community ; For divisions shall never love's cincidum sever, Nor eliminate concord and unity. In sweet conversations and chaste oscillations Our souls we will daily expand ; To gravitij, too, we will bid long adieu, And all fear of depression withstand. To thy wishes I ne'er will incline a surd ear, — - My direction thou ever shalt be ; And each thought of thy mind, when imparted, shall find A sure co-efficient in me. And functions so prime, in the process of time. Shall sweet little increments generate, Who shall grow up as fair as the parents now are. Or approximate to them, at any rate. Thus I, love, and you, combine d, two and two, Shall proceed in harmonic progression — In reciprocal pleasure, which admits of no measure — For which language supplies no expression. And think not, my Mar}', my affections will vary— That my love will be quickly 'vanescent ; For round thee my soul in its orbit shall roll. Till my body in earth lie (juiescent. 194 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. SPOILING A COMPLIMENT. During the time that Paley was staying with the Bishop of Durliani, an old clergyman perchance visited the palace, who asserted, during conversation, " Although he had been man-ied almost forty years, he had never had the slightest difFcronce with his wife." The bishop, nuich pleased with so rare an instance of connubial felicity, was on the very point of complimenting the divine, when Paley archly observed, " Don't you think, my lord, it nmst have been very flat?" OH, ASS! Porson was one day conversing in Latin with a certain learned Theban, from the sister university, when the latter, wishing to convince the professor that he was better ac- quainted with the writings of Cicero than any man living, affirined that he had spent thirteen years " in ferleijendo Cicerone ;" to which the Greek professor, with admirable wit, replied, " And echo answered, on" (Oh, ass!) CURE FOR A DISEASE. A Cantab, who hajipened to be under Sir Busick Har- wood, when professor, was enjoined to live temperately, as a cure for his malady. The doctor called upon him one day, and found him enjoying himself over a bottle of Ma- deira. " Ah, doctor!" exclaimed the patient, at the same time reaching out his hand to bid him welcome, " I am glad to see you ; you are just in time to taste the first bottle of some prime Madeira!" "Ah!" replied Sir Busick, " these bottles of Madeira will never do — they are the cause of all your sufferings!" " Are they so?" cried the patient, " then fill your glass, my dear doctor ; for, since we know the cause, the sooner we get rid of it the better." FACETI.^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 195 JEMiMY CxORDON. Jemmy Gordon, n'miis nofiis omnibus, ignotus nibi, the well-known writer of many a theme and decJamation for varmint-men, alias non-rendtng Cantabs, who may be said to merit the cognomen of Trismegistus, having been com- ]5limented by an acquaintance on the result of one of his themes, to whicli the prize of a certain college was awarded, quaintly enough replied, " It is no great credit to be first in an ass-ruceT' THE EXCEPTION. When England was threatened with invasion by France, a certain corporation agreed to form a volunteer corps, on condition that they should not be obliged to quit the country. Their proposal was submitted to Mr. Pitt, tlie premier, who facetiously observed, that he had no objection to the terms, if they would permit him to add, " except in case of invasion." FIE! ROWE! . Tlie Cocoa-tree Tavern, in St. James's Street, in those days designated the Wits' Coffee-House, was the frequent resort of the celebrated Cantab, Dr. Garth. He was one morning seated there, conversing with some persons of rank, when Rowe, the poet, well-known as a dramatic writer and commentator on Shakspeare, entered, and seated himself in an opposite box to that in which Avas tlie doctor and liis friends. Rowe was not only inattentive to liis dress and appearance, but insufl'erably vain, and fond of being noticed by persons of consequence. He endea- voured for some time to catch the doctor's eye, but, failing, he desired the waiter to ask for his snuft-liox, whicli he knew to be a valuable one, set with diamonds, wliich had o 2 19G FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. been presented to Garth by some foreign prince. After taking a pinch, he retimicd it; but asked for it so re- peatedly, tliat Gartlij out of all patience, and perceiving his drift, wrote on the lid the two Greek characters—*. P. (Phi Rho). Tliis the mortified poet interpreted fie ! RowE ! and instantly quitted tlie room. To this specimen of the doctor's wit may be added the following example of his lunnauity and compassion. The doctor was one day detained in his chariot, in a narrow street, near Covent Garden, through a crowd collected to vritness a bniising-match between two Amazonian ladies of the Billinsgate tribe, when an old woman hobbled up to him, and begged him " for God's sake to take a look at her husband, who was in a mortal bad way ;" adding, " I know you are a sweet-tempered gentleman, as well as a ade doctor, so make bold to ax your advice." The doctor, not a jot offended at her liberty of speech, immediately quitted his chariot, and followed her to her abode of misery, where he found that the patient wanted food rather than physic ; and finding from their answers to his questions, that they deserved compassion, taking out his pencil, he wrote the following infallible prescription for such cases, addi-essed to his banker—" Pay the bearer £10." NOVEL PAYMENT OF A DEBT. That celebrated Cantab, " rare Ben Jonson," was one day invited to dine with a vintner, in whose books his name had appeared on the debtor's side for no inconsider- able period, without any equivalent being likely to appear under the term creditor. The wine, a beverage of which our poet was not a little fond, had gone merrily round, when the \intner declared he would forgive Ben his debt, if he could inuncdiately answer him the following ques- tions :— " Wliat God is best pleased with ? What the devil FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. 197 is best pleased with? What the world is best pleased with ? And what he was best pleased with ?" Ben, under the inspiration of the jolly god, gave an immechate answer in the foUo\ving admirable impromptu : — " God is best pleased when men forsake their sin ; The de\ars best pleased when they persist therein ; The world's best pleased when thou dost sell good wine ; And you're best pleased when I do pay for mine." A FOOL CONFIRMED. That Dr. Pan- was neither very choice nor delicate in his epithets, when his temper-atuve was raised above sum- mer heat, is no secret to those who may have fallen under his lash. He once called a clergyman a fool, and there was probably some tnith in his application of the word. The clergyman, however, being of a different opinion, declared he would complain to the bishop of tlie usage. " Do so," added the learned Grecian, " and my Lord Bishop will coujirm you." PORSON OR THE DEVIL. Porson was once travelling in a stage-coach, wlien a yomig Oxonian, fresh from college, was anuising the ladies with a variety of small talk, to which he added a quotation, as he said, from Sophocles. A Greek quotation, and in a stage-coach too, roused our professor, who, in a dog-sleep, was slumbering in one corner of the vehicle. Rubbing his eyes, " I think, young gentleman," said Porson, " you just now favoured us with a quotation from Sophocles ; I don't happen to recollect it there." " Oh, Sir," replied the Oxonian, " the quotation is word for word as I repeated it, and in Sophocles too ; but I suspect, Sir, it is some time since you were at college." Porson, applying his hand to 198 FACETIiTi CANTABRIGIENSES. his great coat, took out a small pocket edition of Sophocles, and handed it to our tyro, saying ho shoidd he nuicli obliged if he would show him the passage in that little l)ook. Having runnnaged the pages for some time, " Upon second thoughts," said the Oxonian, " 1 now recollect 'tis in Euripides." " Then," said the jjrofessor, putting his luuid into his pocket, and handing him a similar edition of titat author, " perhaps you will be so good as to find it for me in that little book." He returned again to his task, but with no better success, muttering to himself, " Curse me if ever I quote Greek again in a coach." The ladies tittered : at last, " Bless me, Sir," said he, " how dull I am ! I recollect now, — yes, yes, I perfectly remember, the passage is in iEschylus." This inexorable professor applied again to his incxhaustablc pocket, and was in the act of handing an iEschylus to the astonished freshman, when he vocifei-ated, — " Stop the coach ! hollo ! coachman, let me out, I say, — instantly let me out ; there's a fellow here has got the whole Bodleian Library in his pocket ; let me out, I say^et me out, he must be Porson or the Devil." Of this distinguished character, the following is a classical anecdote, related of the early proof he gave of his acute and extraordinary talents. When at a public school, the following subject for a theme was handed to him by the master : — " Ccesare occiso, an Brutns henejicit, avt malefecit." A game being proposed, he joined the sjjoi'ts among the rest of the schohirs, and the theme was forgot. When called upon for his peiformance, he was astonished, on reference to his writing-folio, to find it quite unprepared ; the call, however, was imperative, and the moments but few and precious, — indeed, so few as to preclude the possi- FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 199 bility of a laboured article ; and snatching up a pen, he scrawled the following, whieii he handed to the master, and which was received with no small surprise, though with infinite satisfaction : — "Nee bene-hcit, ncc male-fecit, sed interfecit. " C. versus K. A country gentleman, who had turned his attention to letters, wrote to a learned Johnian, now resident in Cam- bridge, desiring his opinion, as to whether C, in the word stoicism, ought not to be pronounced like K. To which the Cantab returned the following laconic answer : — " Had Kikero (Cicero) been an Englishman, I do not think we should have met with Stoikism., Krifikism, Ostri- kism, or any other kism in his writings." PRAISE OF CAMBRIDGE ALE. Cambridge ale, particularly "Audit," has been long ce- lebrated for its inspiring qualities. A certain Trinitarian, who, though no barker, is well known among the literati for his classical acumen, on receiving a present of Audit, exclaimed : — " All hail to the ale ! It sheds a lialo round my head." ARCHBISHOP MOUNTAIN. This reverend prelate raised himself, by his remarkably facetious turn, from being the son of a humble individual, to the valua1)le see of Durham. In the reign of George the Secoml, the see of York becoming vacant, the king, being at a loss for a fit person to fill so exalted a situation, asked the opinion of" tlie doctor, who wittily replied to the query of his majesty, by tlie following aj)proj)riato quota- tion from Scripture : — " Iladst thou fuitli as a grain of mustard-seed, thou wouldst say to this Mountain," laying 200 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. liis hand on his breast as he spoke, " be removed, and be cast into the sea (see)." The king laughed heartily at the conceit, and conferred' the preferment on the doctor. ALLITERATION. Among the best specimens of alliteration, may be ranked the well-known lines on the celebrated Cardinal Wolsey : — " Begot by butchers, but by bishops bred. How high his honour holds his haughty head!" But the following unpublished sally, by the erudite Dr. Parr, is not a whit inferior. — In a company consisting principally of divines, the conversation naturally turned on the merits of the late head of the church, who was thus characterized by the learned and eccentric doctor, in reply to one of the gentlemen : — " Sir, he is a \wov paltry pre- late, proud of petty popidarity, and perpetually preaching to petticoats." PORSON versus DR. JOWETT. Dr. Jowett, who was a small man, and had an itching for the rus in nrbe, was permitted by the head of his college to cultivate a strip of vacant ground. This gave rise to somejenx d' esprit among the wags of the university, wliich induced him to alter it into a plot of gravel. This being shown to Person, he burst forth with the following — EXTEMPORANEOUS LINES. A little garden little Jowett made, And fenced it with a little palisade ; Because this garden made a little talk, He changed it to a little gravel walk ; And now, if more you'd know of little Jowett, A little time, it will a little show it.* • The following version of this Anecdote .ippeared in Blackwood's FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 201 PARODY ON GRAY'S BARD. By the late Marmaduke Lawson, Esq. M. P. Occasioned hij the Suppression of the Society, in Cam- bridge, hij the Vice-chancellor, a. d. 1817, called THE UNION. I. 1. "Ruin seize thee, senseless prig! Confusion on thy ' optics ' wait ; Though praised by many a Johnian pig, They crowd the shop in fruitless state. " Hood nor doctor's scarlet gown, Nor N — th nor P — th, sliall win renown ; Nor save thy secret soul from nightly fears, Tlie Union's curse, the Union's tears." Such were the sounds that o'er the pedant pride Of W — d, the Johnian, scatter'd wild dismay. As down the flags of Petty-Cury's* side He would with toilsome march his long array ; Magazine: but for the exact history of the tradition we are not able to account: unless it originated with Person, as was declared to us by a Gentleman, in whose veracity we have great confidence. "ON A VERY TINY ANGLE ENCLOSED AND PLANTED WITH SHRUBS." This little garden little Jowett made And fenced it with a little i>alisade. A little taste hath little Dr. Jowett ; This little garden doth a little show it. Exiguum hunc hortum fecit Jowettulus iste Exiguus, vallo et muriit exiguo : Exiguo hoc horto forsan Jowettulus iste Exiguus mentem prodidit exiguam. •* The name of the street in which the Union was held. :202 FACETI/E CANTABUlGIENSES. Stout T — th — ni stood aghast with ]niWy face — "To arms," cried Beverly,* and sliook his quiv'ring mace. I. 2. At a window, which on liigh Frowns o'er the market-place below, With trousers f on, and haggard eye, A member stood immersed in woe. His tattered gown and greasy hair Streamed like a dishclout to the onion'd air. And, with a voice that well might beat the crier, Sti'uck the deep sorrows of his lyre. — Hark ! how each butcher's stall, and mightier shop. Sighs to the market's clattering row beneath ; For thee the women's squall, the cleaver's chop. Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe. Vocal no more, since Monday's fatal night, To Thirl wall 's:|: keen remark, or Sheridan's J wild flight. I. 3. Mute now is Raymond's J tongue, That hush'd the club to sleep; The patriot Whitcomb I now has ceased to rail . Waiters, in vain ye weep. Lawson, whose annual song Made the ked lion§ wag his raptur'd tail. • One of the Esquire Bedells, who bear the mace before the Vice-chan- cellor. t The savage despair of the member Is finely pourtrayed by the trousers, as a total iiKiiflerence to moral guilt or personal danger is argued by his thus appearing before the Vice-chancellor; that gentleman just!!/ regards the wearing of them as the most atrocious of moral offences, and having deservedlii excluded a distinguished wrangler, who had been guilty of wearing them, from a fellowship of his college: — " Crure tenus medio tunicas succiugere debet." — Juv. Sat, 6. X Speakers of the Society. § A magnificent, though bold figure. The Red Lion (which is the FACETI.^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 20."] Dear lost companions in the spouting art, Dear as the conniion smoking in the hall, Dear as the Audit Ale, that warms my heart. Ye fell amidst the dying Union's fall. II. 1. Weave the \\nx\>, and weave the woof, The winding sheet of J-mmy's race ; Give ample room and verge enough — To mai"k revenge, defeat, disgrace. ^ Mark the month, and mark the day, The senate echoing widely with the fray ; Commoner, sizar, pensioner, and snob, Shouts of an undergraduate mob. II. 2. Master of a mighty college, Without his robe behold him stand ; WTiom not a Whig will now acknowledge. Return his bow, or shake his hand. Is the sable Jackson Hed? Thy friend is gone — he hides his powder'd head. The Bedells, too, by whom the mace is borne ? Gone to salute the rising morn. Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephvT blows ; While, gently sidling through the crowded street, In scarlet robe, Clare's* tiny master goes, Waref clears the road, and Gunning f guides his feet, Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in green repose, marks J-nuny's for its prey. sign of the inn at which the Unton assembledi, and which is a remark- ably handsome lion of the kind, is descriljeii a wagging his tail, in testi- mony of the pleasure he felt at the goings on within. • The Vice-chancellor elect. t Two of the Esquire Bedells. 204 FACETI.E CANTABRIGIENSES. II. 3. Fill the Audit bowl ! The feast in hall prepare ! 'Reft of his robes, he yet may share the feast, Close by tlic master's chair. Contempt and laughter scowl A baneful smile upon their baffled guest. — Heard ye the din of battle bray, Gowni to gown, and cap to cap 1 Hark at the Johnian gates each thund'ring rap, While through opposing Dons they move their way, Ye Johnian towers, old W^ — ^d's eternal shame. With many a midnight imposition fed, Revere his Algebra's immortal fame, And spare the meek mechanic's holy head. Each bristled boar will bear no more. And, meeting in the combination-room. They stamp their vengeance deep, and ratify his doom. III. 1. J-mmy, lo ! to sudden fate (Pass the wine — the liquor's good) Half of thy year we consecrate : The web is now what was the wood. But mark the scene beneath the senate's height : See the petition's crowded skirts unroll ; Visions of glory spark my aching sight. Unborn connnencements crowd not on my soul. No more our Kaye,* our Thackery,* we bewail ; All hail ! thou genuine prince ! f Britannia's issue, hail ! • Former Vice-chancellors. t The Chancellor. FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. .205 III. 2. Heads of houses, doctors bold, Sublime the hoods and wigs they rear; Masters young and fellows old In bombazeen and silk appear ; In the midst a form divine, — His eye proclaims him of the British line. Wliat cheers of triumph thunder through the air. While the fidl tide of youtliful thanks is poured ? Hear from your chambers, Price* and Hibbert,* hear ; The oppressor shrinks, the Union is restored. The ti-easurer flics to spread the news he brings, And wears, for triumph's sake, yet larger clitterings. III. 3. •' Fond impious man, think'st thou thy puny fist, Tliy JJ'ood-en sword, has broke a British club? The treasurer soon augments our growing list, — We rise more numerous from this transient rub. Enough for me : with joy I see The different dooms our fates assign ; Be tliine contempt and big-wigg'd care, — To triumph, and to die, are mine." He spoke, and headlong from the window's height, Deep in a dung-cart near, he phmged to endless niglit.f 'PARR. vSw;f;ij In Ids youthful days, the learned doctor happened to be present at a musical party, when a lady's mantua, unfor- tunately, swept from the table a valuable cremona, to her no small consternation, and the great grief of the vmsician. • Speakers of the society. t The Union is now restored, but the discussions are restricted to l)olitical events previous to lUoo. 206 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. On tliis occasion, the facetious doctor made the happiest application of a passage of Virgil, on record : — "Mantua va>! misereras niniinm vicina Cremon/E." PORSON. Porson hoing at a party, where a certain classical lec- turer of Trinit}' College, was ridiculed for his pronunciation of nimirum (which lie pronounced niniirum), pretended warmly to defend him, to the no small astonishment of his friends ; and, heing asked the reason, the Cireek professor, with inimitable wit, replied, " That it was hy no means surprising the learned lecturer had erred respecting this word, for that Horace himself had declared, in Ids Epistle to Claudius, there was but one man in the Roman Empire who really understood it. ' Septimius, Claudi, nimirum intelligit unus.' " THE CRAB-FISH. Porson was very fond of crab-fish, and being at a friend's one night to sup, he intimated a wish to have his appetite indulged. This friend jocularly replied, that he should have the finest in St. James's Market, if he woidd go thither, buy, and bring it home himself. Porson, to his astonishment, took him at his word, and marched through some of the gayest streets in London, with the crah under his arm. CURIOUS EPITAPH. We are confident our readers will require no apology for om- introducing a grnve subject amongst the facetice, when they read the following singidar whiin of a well-known Christian. On the death of his wife, at an advanced age, FACETLE CANTABRIGIENSES. 207 he caused the following Memento Mori to be mscribed on a marble slab, placed over her remains : — Mors loquitur. — Uxorem teneo. Maritum expecto. Death speaks. — " / hold the wife ! Expect the husband .'" This worthy divine, having arrived at a good old age, has lately resigned himself into the hands of his Redeemer, and the stone, now reversed, presents to the eye of the inquiring observer an unpolished surface. — Requieseant in pace. BOROUGH INTEREST. The late Lord Sandwich, who was well known both at Eton and Cambridge by the coynomentum of " Jemmy Twitcher," having the privilege of appointing a chorister at Trinity College, presented that society with one not only ignorant of music, but also destitute of the three essentials necessary to make a singer — voice, taste, and car ; and for no other reason was he appointed, but because he had a vote for Huntingdon. This gave rise to the following pointed epigram. A smging man, and cannot sing, — From whence arose your patron's bounty ? Give us a song ? — " Excuse me. Sir, My voice is in another county." EXTRAORDINARY ACT IN DIVINITY. The following curious act in dioinity, wherein Dr. John Davenant was respondent, and Dr. Ricliardson, amongst others, opponent, was kept at Cambridge, before King James. The question was maintained in the necjatice, concerning the excommunicating of kings. Dr. Kichardson 208 FACETIi-E CANTABRIGIENSES. gravely pressed the i^ractice of St. Ambrose, wlio excom- municated the Emperor Theodosius, so home, that the king, in a great passion, retorted, " Profccto fuit hoc ah Amhrosio msolentis.shne .'" To this apotlicgm of his ma- jesty, Dr, joined, " Responsmn vere reffium, et Alex- aiidro (fi(//i/nn, hoc 7ion est argumenta dissolvere, sed dese- care." And, sitting down, the doctor was silent. PIGEON-SHOOTING. A pmining Cantab of our acquaintance, whose dextei- we have often fisted, happened to be present when two gents made a match to shoot pigeons. The conversation turned on the choice of the breed, and one of the bettors named the hlue-rock as the best. " They may be so," observed our friend Cantab, " but, were I going to shoot, I should choose tumblers!" SIR ISAAC NEWTON. The following incidents are highly characteristic of the above recondite and celebrated Cantab, and show an amiable simplicity of manners, though an utter disregard of worldly affairs, so much was he ever absorbed in his beloved philosophical pursuits. It is said, that Sir Isaac set out in life a professed and clamorous infidel ; but that, on a close examination of the evidences of Christianity, he found reason, nor did he disdain, to retract his opinion. When the celebrated Dr. Ednmnd Halley was one day talking infidelity before him. Sir Isaac exclaimed, " Man, you had better hold your tongue; you are talking about what you do not understand." So patient was this great man, not onl}- in his pursuit of truth, but also in suffering under pain, that when in his last illness, that of the stone, his agony was so great, that drops of sweat forced them- selves through a double night-cap, which he wore, he never FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. 200 was heard to complain or cry out. Sir Isaac had a prism sent him from abroad by a pliilosophical friend, which was at that time a very scarce commodity in England ; and, being desired to say what the value of it was, by the cus- tom-house officers, that they might be able to regulate the duty to be paid, the great man, whose business was more with the universe than with duties and draw-backs, rated the prism according to his own idea of its utility, and answered, " Its value was so great, he could not ascertain it." Being again pressed for an estimate, he persisted in his foiTner reply, and tjie residt was, that he paid an ex- orbitant duty for what might have been taken away by paying a rate according to the simple weight of the glass. At another time, a favom-ite httle dog, named Diamond, having, in his absence, entered his study, he found it, on his return, diverting himself with the remains of some valuable MSS., containing the memoranda of many years' laboi-ious research, which it had already torn into a thousand pieces ; but so great a command had this genius over his temper, that, gathering up the remnants, he patted the offender on the head, saving, " O ! Diamond, Diamond, you know not what mischief you have done?" THE MODERN PONTIUS PILATE. What Cantab has not heard of the Modern Pontius Pi- late ? Such was the designation of a late celebrated divine of King's College, who was wont to boast of his extra- ordinary powers in the wordy race ; protesting that he woidd give any man as far as Pontius Pilale in the Apos- tolic Creed, and beat him hollow l)efore he came to " amen !" — Qu.* amens ! as it appears from the reverend gentleman's own confession, that he was plural in his pronunciation ; " Scilicet, dementated, alias downright mad. r 210 FACETIyE CANTABRIGIENSES. for, on being asked how he could accomjjlish it, he declared he could pronounce three words at once. TIT-BITS. The celebrated author of The Diversions of Ptirley, Home Tooke, being once invited especially to meet his no less celebrated brother Cantab, Dr. Parr, exclaimed, on receiving the message, " What, go to meet a country schoolmaster ; a mere man of Greek and Latin scraps ! that win never do." Some time after, the former meeting the latter gentleman in the street, he went up to the doctor, and addressed him with — " Ah ! my dear Parr, is it you 1 How gratified I am to see you." " What, me 1" replied Parr, " a mere country schoolmaster ; a man of Greek and Latin scraps!" "Oh, my good friend," rejoined Home Tooke, with his accustomed promptitude of wit, " those who told you that never imderstood me ; when I spoke of the scraps, I meant the tit-bits !" A FORCIBLE ARGUMENT. That eiiidite Cantab, Bishop Burnett, preaching before Charles II., being much warmed with his subject, uttered some religious tmth with great vehemence, and, at the same time, striking his fist on the desk with great violence, cried out, "Who dare deny this?" "Faith," said the king, in a tone more jnauo than that of the orator, " no- body that is within the reach of that fist of your's." REFORM EXTRAORDINARY. Tlie men of Maudlin College, Cambridge, had been long celebrated for their wineless lives, and a bowl of bishop or milk-puiich, or a copus of audit ale, would have been, to their voi/j-less heads, both a bane and an antidote : like Dr. Johnson, they would sip their tea, even to the sixteenth FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 211 cup. At length, one of the society resolved to root out this spirit-less propensitj', and redeem the credit of liis college; and he endeavoured to effect this reform extra- ordinary in the following extraordinary manner : — having in\'ited to liis rooms ten or twelve of the most inveterate tea-discussers, he took a bottle and a half of wine from a sideboard, [and then, placing himself with his back against the door, he flourished the poker over his head, declaring, in very empliatic terms, " That not a sold of them shoidd depai't till every drop of the tvine was dnmk!" Whether this experiment had the immediate desired effect, we can- not say, but this we know, that they no longer labour under the tea-di'inking imputation. CHANTING A-LA-GREEK. During the time that the erudite Dr. Bentley was pre- paring an edition of Homer, which he had undertaken at the desire of Earl Gren-ville, he was accustomed not unfre- quently to spend liis evenings with that distingiiished no- bleman. These congenials, when drinking deep at the classic fountain, woidd sometimes keep it up to a late hour. One morning, after one of their mental carousals, the mo- ther of his lordshi^J reproached him for keeping the country clergyman, as she termed the learned Cantab, till he was intoxicated. Lord Grenville denied the charge, — on which the lady replied, he coidd not have sung in so ridiculous a manner, if he had not been in liquor ; but the truth was, that the singing, which appeared so to have annoyed the noble lady, was no other than the doctor endeavouring to entertain and instruct Lord Grenville in the true cutileua, or recitative, of the ancients. p2 212 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. DR. SAMUEL CLARKE versus THE REGIUS PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY. When tliat profound scholar and divine, Dr. Samuel Clarke, deemed it necessary for him to proceed to the de- gree of D. D., he entered the schools, in Cambridge, with the two following questions, as the basis of his public exer- cise ; and the manner in which this criidite Cantab acquit- ted himself, is worthy of beuig handed down to the latest posterity : — I. Nullwn fidci Christiana dogma, in S. Scripturis tra- ditvm, est recta rationi dissenteneum. II. Sine actionum humanarum libertate nulla potest esse religio. 1. No article of the Christian faith, delivered in the Holy Scriptures, is disagreeable to right reason. 2. Without the liberty of human actions, there can he no religion. These two questions were worthy of such a divine and philosopher, to propose for a public debate. Dr. .James was the Regius Professor, a learned and very acute dispu- tant, and he exerted himself beyond his accustomed prac- tice, in order to oppose and try Dr. Clarke to the utmost. Possessed of a retentive memory, and fluent in words, with a natural turn for disputation, the professor began with an examination of the candidate's thesis (an elaborate dis- course founded on the first question), sifting every part with the sh-ictest nicety, and pressed him with all the force of syllogistic argument. He was an adversary worthy of the respondent, who made an extempore reply to the learned professor's queries, which occupied nearly half an hour, without hesitation ; and with such perspiciuty of thought and purity of language did he take off all that the professor FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 213 had advanced against his opinions, that those who heard liim were astonished thereat, and declared that, had they not seen him, they should have supposed his reply to have been previously written. He guarded so well, replied so readily and clearly, and pressed so close upon the professor, in his replies, through the remainder of the disputation, that perhaps such a conflict, kept up with such spirit, and which ended with such perfect honour to the respondent, was never before heard in the schools. The professor, who was a man of humour as well as learning, after a long dis- putation, used often to say to a respondent, — " Finem jam faciem, nam te prohi exercui;" (I will now make an end, for I have sufficiently worked you). He was about to ad- dress the same words to Dr. Clarke ; but, after the word te, he stopped and corrected himself, by saying, — " Num ME probe EXERCuisTi," (for you have worked me thorouglily) ; a high compliment, in his humorous way of expressing himself: but so justly did Dr. Clarke merit it, that those who heard the disputation declared that, for handling his argument, the fluency and (notwithstanding his great at- tention to other matters) purity of his Latinity, he spoke as one who had discoursed in no other language, and was an ornament to the university. ADVICE GRATIS. At the sittings of Guildhall, an action of debt was tried, before Lord Mansfield, in which the defendant, a merchant of London, with great warmth, complained of the plaintiff's conduct, to his lordship, in having caused him to be ar- rested, not only in the face of the day, but in the Royal Exchange, and in the face of the whole assembled credit of the metropolis. The Chief Justice stopped him with great composure, saying,— " Friend, you forget yourself; you were the defaulter, in refusing to pay a just debt; and let 214 JACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. me give you a piece of advice worth more to you than the debt and costs : be careful not to put it in any man's power to arrest you, either in public or private, for the future." THE BRIDE IN WAITING. A celebrated Cantab, who, for his poetic taste and splen- did imagination, might almost be designated the " angel OF THE WOULD," had the good fortune to lead to the altar of Hymen a blooming bride, and the misfo/'finu', amidst his angelic speculations, to forget her. The happy pair were to start for Paris, to spend the honeymoon, imme- diately after the ceremony; the bridegroom begged an hour to j)ack for the occasion,' — the smiling fair one granted his request, — the hour was past, but he did not appear ; two, three, four, five hours, (which to the lady were as many ages), had Sol laboured towards the western horizon, and she was still in waiting. A messenger was despatched in search of the truant, and Paris was found, not as many Cantabs are, in the midst of triangles, &c., but, forgetful of his Helen, rearing a temple to the muses, totally uncon- scious of the part he had so lately acted in the consumma- tion of holy matrimony. BON MOT. " The Bishop of London," says Aubrey, " having cut down a noble clond of trees at Fulham, Lord Chancellor Bacon told him, ' he was a good expounder of dark places.' " DR. HENNIKER'S DEFINITION OF WIT. Dr. Henniker being one day in conversation with that celebrated statesman, the Earl of Chatham, amongst other questions, was asked by his lordship how he defined wit?— " Wit," replied the learned doctor, " is hke what a pension FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 215 would be given by your lordship to your humble servant, — a good thing well applied." , WHAT A DEBAUCH! A pious Queen's-man being invited to a spread, reftised the invite, on the ground of the last evening's excesses, — when, upon being pressed to tell when and how he had spent the pre\aous night, he, with reluctance, confessed he had committed a great debauch, inasmuch as he had sat up till ten o'clock, and drank two bumpers of plum wine! ! Scilicet, raism. NEW READINGS. Every son of Alma Mater has, a pritnis epliehis, appro- priated to liis own schoolmates the humorous translation of the words — coctdihus muris, by cocktailed mice ; and not a few have thought that the arma rirumque cano Trojce qui primus ub oris, alluded to the archididascalus, with his cane for his arms, and his mouth as prim as a Trojan's ; but we much question whether the sense of a Latin writer was ever more ludicrously misunderstood, than in the lecture- room of Christ College, when a deep-read freshman ren- dered the words — " antejionit tenuem victum copioso," (he prefers a slender diet to an abundant one), by " he places before them a thin man conquered by a stout one," which, when we consider that our author was alluding to the man- ners and customs of the gladiators, must cause a smile. EPIGRAMS. I. Had thy spouse, Dr. Drumstick, been ta'en from thy side. In the same way that Eve became Adam's fair bride. And again by thy side on the bridal bed laid ; Though thou couldst not, like Adam, have gallantly said, 216 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. " Thou art flesh of my flesh," — because flesh thou hast none, Thou witli truth might'st have said — " Thou art bone of my bone." II. On the Marriage of a very thin Couple. St. Paul lias declared that, v.licn persons, though twain. Are in wedlock united, one flesh they remain. But had he been by, when, like Pharaoh's kine pairing, Dr. Douglas, of Benet, espous'd Miss Mainwaring, The apostle, no doubt, woidd have alter'd liis tone. And have said, " These two splinters shall now make one bone." III. On a Petit-Maitre Physician. When Pennington for female ills indites, Studying alone not what, but how he writes, The ladies, as his graceful form they scan, Cry, with ill-omen 'd rapture — " Killing man!" IV. On a Student being put out of Commons, for missing Chapel. To fast and pray we are by Scripture taught : coidd I do but either as I ought ! In both, alas! I err; my frailty such — 1 pray too little, and I fast too much. PARODIES ON COLLEGE EXAMINATIONS. EXAMINATION I. 1. Prove, by syllogistic ratiocination, that chalk and cheese are not one and the same thing — that they are not FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 217 idem in genere ; and then render an analytical exposition of the composition of chalk, and a disquisition synthetical on that of cheese. Show, further, which of these two kinds of exposition it is probable Aristotle would have adopted in treating such a subject. 2. Demonstrate by induction why it is, that, in his ex- pedition into India, Alexander Magnus followed his nose. 3. Give the definition of China pig — nominally, acci- dentally, physically, and metaphysically. 4. Convert the first two books of Aristotle's Treatise on Rhetoric into Latin hexameter and pentameter, and the third and fourth books of the Annals of Tacitus into pin- darics. 5. Are you anywhere informed by Herodotus, which were the thickest, the heads of the Egyptians or the Per- sians ? 6. Make a computation of the probable thickness of the heads of both nations ; and then logically demonstrate the difference of inches in the skulls of one and the other. 7. Give the Greek appellations of the several terms — tea, coffee, snuff, and tobacco — printer's devil, leather- breeches-maker, steam-packet, double-banrelled gun — tag, rag, and bobtail. 8. Why is it probable that Horace, if he could have gotten them, would have worn spectacles ? — What was his height without his shoes ? — Signify the colour of his com- plexion by two tropes, one metaphor, and three similes. 9. Prove the non-identity of Sylla the dictator and Scylla the sand-bank ; and does not the sea or C make all the dif- ference between them ? 10. Translate the following passage from Tag's Ode to Miss Pickle, into a Sapphic stanza, both in Greek and Latin : — 218 FACETIX CANTADRIGIENSES. " Not pickled onion, nor yet pickled bean, Nor pickled cabbage, cither red or green, Nor pickled cucumber, nor pickled Chili, But my own darling little Picklelilly." 11. Oxford must, from all antiquity, have been either somewhere or nowhere. "Where was it 'in the time of Tar- quinius Priscus ? ' If it was nowhere, it surely must have been somewhere. Where was it ? 12. Should you, upon consideration, say that the an- cients could find the way to their mouths in the dark as ■well as the moderns ? Do you believe tlie Athenians wore WeUington-boots, or ate mince-pies at Christmas ? 13. Mention any instances that occur to you of ancients visiting any part of the United States. Are we not to infer, from the frequent occuiTcnce of the word ya; in their most celebrated authors, that the Athenians were perfectly acquainted with that valuable commodity ? 14. Trace the derivation of pump from -nus, according to the example afforded you of that of bump from /2»f. — Bbj, lonice Boof, per apocopen Bo;, poetic B^;, per pepper-castor /3i/7r, and per epenthesin Bdjutt, hence you may easDy trace the derivation oi pumpkin and hvmpMn. 15. State logically how many taUs a cat has. From these specimens, however much he may admire the erudition they display, the reader will, perhaps, not think verj' favourably of the utility of university examina- tions, but useful they are. The answers would occupy too much space; suffice it, therefore, to say, our communicant got off with flying colours, the delight of his connections, and an honour to his house. The answer to the last ques- tion, however, amused us so much that we cannot refrain from giving it. 15. State logically how many tails a cat has? — Ans. No FACETliE CANTABRIGIENSES. 219 cat has two tails — every cat has one tail more than no cat — ergo, every cat has thi"ee tails. EXAMINATION II. 1. Give a comparative sketch of the principal EngUsh theatres, with the dates of their erection, and the names of the most eminent candle-snuffers at each. What were the stage-boxes ? What were the offices of prompter, ballet- master, and scene-shifter? In what part of the theatre was the one-shilling gallery? Distingiush accm-ately be- tween operas and puppet-shows. 2. Where was Downing Street? Who was prime-mi- nister when Cribb defeated Molmeux — and where did the battle take place ? Explain the terms milling— fibbing — cross-buttock — neck and crop — bang up — and — prime. 3. Give the dates of all the parhaments, from their first institution to the period of the hard frost on the Thames. In what month of what year was Mr. Abbot elected speaker? Why was he called " the Utile man in the wi(] ?" When the speaker was out of the chair, where was the mace put ? 4. Enumerate the principal houses of call in and about London, marking those of the tailors, bricklayers, and shoemakers, and stating from what brewery each house was supplied with browni stout. Who was the tutelary saint of the shoemakers? At what time was Iris feast cele- brated ? Who was St. Swithin ? Do you remember any remarkable English proverb respecting him? 5. Give a ground-plan of Gilead-house. Mention the leading topics of the Guide to Health, with some account of the Anti-Impetigines— Daffy's Elixir— Blaine's Distem- per Powders— dung's Worm Lozenges — and Hooper's Female Pills. 6. Give characters of Wat Tyler, Jack Cade, and Sir 220 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. Francis Burdett. Did the latter return from the Tower by water or land ? On what occasion did Mr. Lethbridge's " hair stand on ind?" Correct tlie solecism, and give the reason of yonr alteration. 7. Enumerate the roads on which double toll was taken on the Sundays. Did this custom extend to Christmas Day and Good Friday? Who was toll-taker at Tyburn when Mrs. Brownrigg was executed ? 8. Distinguish accurately between sculls and oars— boat and punt— jackass and donkey — ganger, exciseman, and supervisor — pantaloons, trousers, gaiters, and overalls. — At what place of education were any of these forbidden ? Which ? and Why ? 9. Express the following words in the Lancashire, Der- byshire, London, and Exmoor dialects : — bacon — poker — • you — I — doctor — and turnpike -gate. 10. Mention the principal coach-inns in London, with a correct list of the coaches which set out from the Bolt-in- Tun. Where were the chief stands of hackney-coaches,— and what was the No. of that in which the Princess Charlotte drove to Connaught House ? To what stand do you suppose this removed after it set her down ? n. Give a succinct account, with dates, of the fol- lowing persons :— Belcher— Mr. Waithman— Major Cart- wright, Martin Van Butchell — and Edmund Henry Barker. 12. Draw a map of the Thames witli the surrounding country, marking particularly Wapping, Blackwall, Rich- mond, and the Isle of Dogs. Distinguish between New- castle-on-Tyne, and Newcastle-under-Line— CJloucester and Double Gloucester— and the two Richmonds. What cele- brated teacher flourished at one of them ? — and who were his most eminent disci2jles ? 13. What were the various sorts of paper in use amongst FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. 221 the English? To what purpose was whitedrbrown chiefly apphed? What was size? Distinguish hetween this and college Sizings, and state the ordinary expense of papering a room. 14. " For every one knows little Matt.'s an M. P." Frag. Com. Inc. ap. Morn. Chron. vol. 59, p. 1624. What reasons can you assign for the general knowledge of this fact ? Detail, at length, the ceremony of chairing a member. What were the hustmgs ? Who paid for them ? Explain the abbreviations — Matt. M.P. — Tom — Dick — F.R.S.— L.L.D.— and A.S.S. 16. What was the distinguishing title of the mayors of London ? Did any other city share the honour ? Give a list of the mayors of London, fi'om Sir Richard Whittington to Sir William Curtis, with an account of the cat of the first, and the weight of the last. What is meant by Lord Mayor's Day ? Describe the Apothecaries' bai"ge, and give some accormt of marrow-bones and cleavers. 16. Wlien was Spyring and Marsden's Lemon Acid invented ? Distingiush between this and Essential Salt of Lemons. Enumerate the j^i'incipal patentees, especially those of liquid blacking. 17. Scan the following lines : — But for shaving and tooth-drawing, Bleeding, cabbaging, and sawing, Dicky Gossiji, Dicky Gossip is the man ! What is known of the character and history of Dicky (iossip ? EXAMINATION 111. Find the centre of gravity in a leg of mutton, and deter- mine, with precision, how much gravy it ought to contain when properly cooked. Is there any difference between a leg and a shoulder? and what? Is it not an anomaly to 222 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. call the fore-leg of a sheep the shoulder? and in what London market did the absurdity originate? 2. Describe the diHerence between a jack-ass and a jack- fish ; and enumerate the various kind of jack-asses that are to be found in and about the university. 3. Give an account of the 01ym])ic games, and point out the resemblance that there is between them and the Olympic Theatre in Wych Street. What street is Wych- street. and which is the way to it ? 4. In what part of London are there the greatest number of fools ? and vice versa. Are the knaves in office more annoying than the knaves out of office ? and, if not, why not ? Give the characters respectively of a lord mayor, a merry-Andrew, a prime minister, a bishop, and a quack doctor. Mark the difference, if any, between them, and show in what they are all just alike. 5. Where was Cribb when the battle of Waterloo was fought; and who was the real champion of England on that memorable day? 6. Enmnerate the various quahties of Henry Hunt's Matcliless Blacking, his Roasted Corn, and his quondam friend Cobbett's History of the Reformation. Anal}'se the tliree, and say which should be taken internally, and wliich applied externally, and why ? 7. Give an account of the Epping Hunt on an Easter Monday, and explain the reason Avhy the horses generally go a great many more miles than their riders ; also, why the cockneys so often indulge in their propensity for stag-hunting, when it is notorious that they are themselves properly classed under the head of horned animals in the best treatises on natural history. 8. Determine what it was that Peeping Tom of Coventry wished to see. Having found that out, ascertain whether the rays from that focus of attraction were too dazzling for FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES, 223 liis optic nerves, or whether excessive straining of liis eye- balls occasioned his blindness .' 9. Name the principal banking-houses in London, and, give a general description of all the parish beadles within the bills of mortality. Repeat the observations made by Sir Richard Birnie to Michael O'Shaunessy, the cobbler, when he was taken to Bow-street for making a lap-stone of his wife's head. Show the connection between each of these propositions, and say in what particulars they vary. 10. Why should Harriette Wilson, Miss Foote, and the Princess Ohve, be considered of more consequence than ladies of quality generally? What qualities do ladies of quality generally possess ? and what is the difference between a lady of rank and a rank lady ? 11. Where did Parson Irving come from before he came from Scotland, and where is he hkely to go to if he con- tinues to go on in the way he is going ? Detennine how nearly he is related to Dr. Eady, and what degree of affinity subsists between them and the Rev. Alexander Fletcher? 12. What is the difference between a dentist, a dentist- surgeon, and a tooth-drawer? Which of these is the Chevalier Ruspini, which Dr. Bew, of Brighton, and which Mr. Hartrey, of Hayes Court ? Show that the two former are entitled to a guinea, although the last receives only a shilling per tooth, in consequence of the infinitely greater trouble they take in the performance of their task ! 13. Describe the different kinds of breeches that are at present worn by the English. Name the tailor that made the first pair, and determine with accuracy how much more double-milled kerseymere it takes to make a pair of Wel- lington trousers for Lord Nugent than would be necessary for the Achilles in Hyde Park. 14. What reasons can you assign for the necessity of having one leg or the other always foremost when walking ? 224 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. and, having proved that a man can step a yard at a time, ascertain how far he can reach in a hop, skip, and a jump- 15. Scan the following lines, and then translate them into Latin hexameters : " High diddle diddle ! The cat and the fiddle, The cow jmnped over the moon!" In what quarter was the moon when the cow jumped over her ? Was it an Alderney or a Welsh cow ? State, also, whether she descended on her legs after her extra- ordinary leap, and in what parish she fell. 16. When was April Fool's Day first observed? Who is the first April fool upon record? What city had the honour of inventing bug-traps ? Of what size were the fleas which Sir Joseph Bankes mistook for lobsters, and how much salt did he put in the saucepan, when he boiled them ? If one flea can skip a mile in an hour, in what time would a million of fleas draw the mail-coach from London to Bath? 17. Enumerate the different figures of speech made use of by the late Lord Londonderry, and state precisely what sort of figure his lordship cut, when he stood prostrate before the House, and spoke of liis fimdamental features ? Where was Mr. Canning at that time ? What honourable member was it that turned his back upon himself, and in what manner did he effect so novel a position ? (Camliritigr Uattics; BY TTFO DISTINGUISHED CANTABS. (Originally printed in the Brighton Magazine.^ CAMBRIDGE PARTIES, LETTER I. WJ TER-PAR TIES. Dear . There is no period of a man's existence, it is generally observed, to which, in the retrospection of days gone by, he recurs with such peculiar feelings of satisfaction, as the three years passed at the university : — often, amid the troubles and vexations of maturer life, will he sigh to reflect upon the times when his whole cares, if cares he had, consisted in rising on a cold frosty morning for lectures, learning an imposition for the proc- tors, or leaving a wine-party for chapel; and I doubt whether (unless in the fehcitous era of the honey-moon) he would not joj^ully resign his present prospects, could he once more, with cap and gown, take his place among the under-graduates of the university. As a memento, therefore, of past happiness, and showing the difference of what was, and what is, I have thought that " Letters from Cambridge," elucidating its present manners and customs, would be interesting to you, and might be to others ; at any rate I shall amuse myself, and with us, you know, anuisement is a main object. You will think a description of " Water Parties," at this time of the year, a curious commencement of my corrcs- q2 228 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. pondence ; l)ut tlie fact is, tliat, owing to the late extreme mildness of tlu' wcatlier, tliey have been more frequent during this last month than at any former period of my residence. Both from the pleasure 1 have formerly en- joyed in them with you, and from being well assured they are parties which give the most favourable idea of Cam- bridge character and Cambridge manners, I have resolved to commence witli them. At brcuhfast-parties, some men are not quite awake ; with others, the thoughts of lectures intrude ; at wine-parties, reserve is not always thrown off till the wine has begun to take effect; and, at supper- parties, " I must be in before twelve, or I shall be hauled up before the master ;" — " / must go home to prepare for lectures ;"— " Fm d d sleepy ;"— " Well, good night, old boy ! I must get up early to-morrow, to hunt;" are continually grating upon our ears, and man-ing our comfort. But in wafer-parties there is no drawback of this sort. The men who form it are in general well acquainted, have a day of comparative idleness before them (in itself peculiarly pleasant, by the by), and are previously resolved to be social and jolly ; to blow care to the winds ; to be happy ; and, as far as they can, to 7nake happy. Under the influence of such feelings, a party of us, consisting of S— , K— , and G— , of Christ's College; H — , of Clare ; B — , of Pembroke ; C — , of Jesus ; I — , of Trinity, and myself, saUied out on one of the finest days of last week, to man the Glory, a sLx-oared boat of Cross's. It was a most lovely morning, — " The sun was in the heavens, and joy on earth." Few of us, I believe, thought much about the sun, but " the joy on earth " we felt; though, like Lambro, we were not philosophers enough to stop and inquire the reason. As we rowed in a leisurely way down the stream, CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 229 this joy was manifested in \-arious ways, by various characters. B — gave vent to his feeUngs in a poetical efflision : — " Once more upon the waters — yet once more — And the waves bound beneath me, like a steed That knows its rider." Lord B}Ton was now handed from one to the other in very fine style ; from K — , G — , and I — , I remarked, among others, the following sti'ains : — K — . " How gloriously her gallant coin-se she goes ! * * * * She walks the waters like a thing of life, And seems to dare the elements to strife. Who would not brave the battle-fire — the wreck — To move the monarch of her peopled deck ?" G — . " Oh ! who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried, And danc'd in triumph o'er the waters wide,* The exulting sense — the pulse's maddening play, That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way?" We could see, by the shrewd mathematical face with which H — was regarding the blade of his oar, that any thing but poetry occupied Iiis attention; he was, in fact, enumerating the number of strokes given in "t"; and the newly acquired volocity after each impulse. C — was rather offended at his observing, he had found it, on calculation, pretty much the same whether C — pulled or not. » Not over wide, by the by. 230 I'ACETl^ CANTABRIGIENSES. S — began to spout Virgil ; but tliis was voted a bore, as there were one or two in tlie company who might not understand it. For my part, I moraUzed ; but had got no farther tlian "immortal man," when my meditations were interrupted by an " unliallowed sound " of singing. S — , determined not to be outdone in noise, had got liold of the poor Canadian boat-song, and was giving tongue most gloriously in conjunction witli C — , and, tlierefore, lending my assistance, we came the " row " part both with arms and voices very gaily. Loud was the laughter after each effusion, and number- less the jests which were passed; I should like to transcribe some of these for your edification, but, unfortunately, I am not quite sure they would have so good an appearance in print. Our feelings were then very uncritical. A bad pun may create a laugh, and a good one could do no more ; however, this must be the subject of a future paper, and, lo ! while I am tan-ying with you, our boat has arrived at Chesterton locks. * " Here, S—, you Christian son of a gun ! Come and apply your fat carcass to this lock." " That's your sort." " T — , take care of that oar, and pull it out of the rullucks." " Here, give me the boat-hook, and keep off the side." ^' By jingo, here's F — ." '■'■Verily, I'm astounded." " Why, F — , my little minimum ! What the plague can have brought you from your sines and cosines, to come rambling upon this ' wide wide sea ? ' You're reading hy- * You and others may complain that, in the dialogues or exclama- tions, here and elsewhere inserted, there is neither wit, delicacy, nor elegance. To this I can only answer, that a conversation, composed of these ingredients, would seem either pedantic, or inconsistent with the characters of Cambridgemen. As this is a most true account of the party, and I have inserted nothing which did not actually occur, neither would 1 put down an exclamation that was not actually made. CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 231 drostatics, I suppose, and want to take a practical observa- tion of the motions of bodies and fluids ! — Well ! Mind nun don't make a practical illustvation of it ; for sometimes tlicse said bodies will find the bottom, you know." '" You impu- dent thief! n'importe, ' il rit bien qui r it le dernier.' I prophesy you'll be lieartily sick of your motions, at least those of the oar, before you yet far ; for if you look for- tvard you will observe a party in the Stay, restiny on their oars, and waitiuy, in order to give you the benefit of a yood sweating — so look to it." " The Devil they are I come, my boys, have a regard to your characters." " // — , give the stroke." '• That will do." " Good-by, professor." " Go it." '^ Now we are even." " Incumbite remis." "Away we go, and what care we For tiimults, treasons, or for wars ; We are as calm in oiu* delight. As is the crescent moon so bright Amid the scatter 'd stars !" Not quite so calm, though, either ! I must own, 1 soon began, as F — pretlicted, to grow weary of these quick motions, and would rather have been meditating upon the fine effect with Lord Byron, than partaking in this calm and gentle exercise : — " By heavens it is a splendid sight to see (For one who hath no part — no fagging there). The rival coats of mix'd embroidery. The oars which glitter in the sun's bright glare; How gallantly the boatsmen bend and rise. And bend again, loud yelling in the race," &c. 232 FACETI/E CANTABRIGIENSES. Having kej)t togetlier, boat and boat, for upwards of a mile, some fears came across me that we might go on ad hifinitinn, — and, feeling that my strength would not proceed in the same ratio, I thought proper to give a few small hints on the subject of dropping the contest. " / think ire arc (jre.at asses for thus fagyiiig ourselves." No corresponding effect ; the men determined to be asses. ^' It's a devilish ungentlemanlij thing to siveat ourselres in this vianner, like bargemen .'" All in vain. " Hang it, T — , youve got no pluck ; pull away, my hearty !" On we went, at the rate of at least twenty miles an hoin-, all for glory, when, fortunately for me, just at this critical time, a poor wight in a canoe, who, I dare say, thought it every wit as ungentlemanly as I did to row so fast, unable to clear both boats in time, was very neatly run down bj' us. There were really many of our party who were so inhumane as to wish to leave him to sink or sivim ; but I very magnanimously prevailed upon them to row back to his assistance. It was a long time before we could per- suade the poor fellow he was .not ckowned ; and, when this was effected, he Avas so pleased, that he forgot to row us for upsetting him, but seemed half inclined to thank us for the honour we had done him. I doubt not, though, that, when he came to himself, he would begin to question the propriety of our conduct, and send a few blessings after us. Uninjured by these, we gallantly pursued our course, although the Stag was too much a-head to give us hopes of overtaking it. It was safe now to exclaim, — "Jfozv very unfortunate ! we were just beating them ! bhm our friend of the canoe !" Nor were any of us at all sparing of such exclamations. We could gain from the burden of our antagonists' song, that they modestly ascribed to their boat the honoiu" of victory : — CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 233 " Merrily, merrily, goes the bark ! Before the gale she bounds ; So bounds the dolphin from the shark, Or the dee}- before the hounds." Now our boat had already glory enough. We, therefore, tliought proper to assume the present merit to ourselves ; and, as the stagites did not seem inclined to raise the "io triumphe" of victory, we lifted uji our voices in the famous boat-song from the "Lady of the Lake:" — " Hark to the chief who in triumph advances. Honour 'd and bless'd be the evergreen pine," &c. After "p" strokes Cwhere p is very small), we bore down majestically upon Backsbite, and arrived " t " after our opponents. They of the Stag, having eyed us askance a bit, passed through the locks, while we remained stationarj' to feed. The beauty of the river Cam at this point is of that species which is, in general, pecuUar to the rivers of a flat country, in their departure from the haunts of men, and approach to the immeasurable main. Although Backsbite is only three miles and-a-half distant from Cambridge, it is yet sufficiently remote to have lost its more civilized features, and to have .approached to the wild and fenny beauty of sea-propinquity. For the last mile, in approach- ing Backbite, little more meets the eye than beds of osiers on one bank, and an almost interminable waste on the other, broken occasionally by willows, which seem heartUy tired of their situation ; or by a village church in the distance, which does not inspire the same feeling, only because it is connected with better things ; and which, " as it points evermore with its silent finger to heaven," resem- 234 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. bles a beacon-fire in a storm, or an ark in the waters. In spring, however, when tliis waste hath acquired a yellow mantle*, and the osier beds a green one, the scene is far irom being devoid of attraction. I am very much inclined to think it was the striking appearance of these osiers at one point in the river, whicli first suggested Lord Byron's comparison in the " Bride of Abydos :" — "As the stream late concealed By the fringe of the willows, When it rushes reveal 'd In the light of its billows ; As the bolt bursts on high From the black cloud that bound it, Flash 'd the soul of that eye Through the long lashes round it." In front of a house of public entertainment which stands on Backsbite locks, is a small paddock where the snobs assemble to regale themselves in summer, and which, till the dinner we had brought with us was prepared, was destined to form the theatre of our gambols. It was not difficidt to find an amusement for men determined to be amused ; in a moment we were all engaged in exhibiting our agility at leap-frog, or in leaping the bar ; and soon after in a game of quoits for the damage of the party. There are some who might perhaps smile with contempt at the idea of a party of young men amusing themselves by playing at leap-frog ; but there are also others who woidd consider this very circumstance as a natural exem- plification of joyful feelings that would not be controlled. Those would merely look to the agility of limb ; these — to " the fi-eshness of the heart !" • The fens appear (luite yellow in sprint;, from the quantity of cow- slips, buttercups, &c. which spring up with the turf. CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 235 I fancy that you are at this place about exclaiming with Sir P. Teazle, " Oh, damn your sentiment." And my companions, indeed, having just concluded their game, are making such a confounded noise, that, if I wish any dinner, I must lay this aside at present and attend them. " Huzza — Regular case of floor .'" " I say B — , how are you off for dinner ? damn the ex- peyise .'" "Holloa, you chap I is dinner ready?'' " Yes, Sir." " Then devil take the hindmost." I should protract this letter to a most unconscionable length, were I to relate how much we ate, laughed, and talked. I will thank you, therefore, to imagine whatever )'ou please (so that it be good), and to suppose us once more re-embarking in the Glory. " Now then .' — off she goes." " Go your rigs, my hoys." And as, with a cigar in my mouth, I had just quietly taken my place at the helm, I was no longer backward in exhortations and reprobations of their laziness ; but roared out, "Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast," till their ears, or at least my lungs, were heartily tired. In our progress up the stream, our boat, to a spectator from the bank, must have had a remarkably fine effect. Owing, 1 suppose, to the wine and malt (whose potency was so visible upon some, that G — and S — invariably missed the water), the crabs and backslidings were so infinite, that it must have been confidently imagined we were impelled by a small steam-engine, of which I was chinuiey ; and that the oars were merely put out for the sake of the pictiu"esijue. And thus the ludicrous appearance was somewhat the same as tliat of Leporello in Don Giovanni, who mechani- cally moves his limbs in the action of swimming, although he is, in reality, carried along on terra firma. Having advanced at the rate of a mile in three quarters 236 facetijE cantabrigienses. of an hour, wc overtook a long string of barges, wliicli, after the fashion in this covuity, were towed up the stream by two or three horses, with the appropriate animals upon them, leaving a complement of four or five men to manage the craft. As they kept the middle of the river, and left us little space for the use of our oars, we vainly made several attempts to stem the current which ran violently by their side, and to shoot before their long file. Now, Cambridge-men, be it known, are mightily fond of having their own way.* Some irascible feelings were, therefore, I am compelled to say, made manifest upon the occasion. As to myself, as I make it a rule never to be in a passion, I mightily enjoyed the contrast of fire on one side, and ice on the other. Here, one old bargee, without deigning to attend to us, busily employed himself in haranguing his horses in the bargee lingo, which I'll be hanged if any but the brute animals could ever understand. Another, with a face of the most imperturbable calmness, was leaning upon the tiller, and staring as he smoked his pipe, with the greatest unconcern, both at us and our efforts ; a third, in reply to our swearing and blustering, derided us with, '■'■ Dom it, you don't pool, — pool a/caij." Cambridge blood could bear no more ; rhetoric was vain, and ])atience vainer; the barges were boarded and the helm usurped, and, as they were so impudent as to aver they were the better steerers, we were under the disagreeable necessity of cutting their ropes, and then left them, flattering om-selves Ave had ef- fectually roused them from their lethargic calmness, and reversed the fire and ice. I will not say that a black eye or so was not the consequence of this skirmish, but this * N. B. This feature of character is generally perceptible in under- graduates, only when tliey are in the right. But some of them, when they grow older, — for instance, when they become fellows, &c. are not very particular about the right or wrong, but will have their way, be- cause, as Lord B. says, they may. CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 237 only served to enhance the jileasure ; it sobered some, and roused others ; so that, in the midst of jests of " black eyes and rainbows," &c. all in the BjTonite style, we proceeded at a very respectable rate towai'ds Cambridge. It was half-past five, and some of the chapel bells were ringing, as we arrived at Bannwell Pool, which is distant half a mile from the university. It might have seemed, to a casual observer, that our feelings were now pretty much the same as at our passing the same spot some hours be- fore ; but there were also some minuter shades from wliich a different result might be deduced. We were still su- premely happy, but the manifestation of that happiness was changed : this was, in the first place, apparent from the character of our songs. In place of our " Row, brothers, row," and "Merrily, merrily nmg the Bells," which we had sported so gaily in the morning, our voices were en- gaged in singing, with great pathos, " Those Evening Bells," and such-like melancholy ditties. G , in the mean time, was employed in parodying a passage from Parisina ; and he had nearly dispelled the pathetic feeUngs induced by the " Evening Bells," from the laugh which it caused: — " The chapel bells are ringing Both moinnfidly and slow. In the grey round turret swinging. With a deep sound, to and fro ; Heavily to the heart they go — Hark ! the men are singing. For the bells, with notes of woe. They've often cursed for duiming so." In the next place our regard was averted from ourselves and our boat, to the beauties of eve, and of the surrounding scenery. 238 FACETI^t: CANTABRIGIENSES. It was one of those transcendent evenings, which, while from their very singularity at this time of the year, they appear more lovely, must necessarily send to the heart the feeling of summer. The sun was ahout setting behind the majestic walls of King's College Chapel (a fit resting-place for such a deity), and, ere he sank to repose, threw upon the waters a long line of liquid light, which, — " Unquenched, and glowing, appears to glide Like a lava-stream through the darker tide." All nature was in harmony : — " There was not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can ; Hanging so light, and hanging so high. On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky." And while, " in glorious sympathy with suns that set," we felt— " The softness of the hour Steal on the heart as dew along the flower," It is natural that our attention should also be directed to the objects which that sun now beautified. The right bank of the river was fringed with its constant willows ; and on the left the undidating turf, the broken state of the groimd, and the appearance of " ruined ruins" in the background, told that, in years ])ast, this spot had been the residence of other beings; but beings as qmet and innocent as the sheep which now fed there. This ground had formerly been the site of Barnwell Nunnery. In my usual manner, I felt verj- much inclined to moralize on the fate of the pale melancholy girls who once walked and prayed there. But, unfortunately for my sentimental ideas. CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 239 I heard H — and B — in a violent dispute on a calculation of the odds against these same pale girls remaining nuns for one week, supposing the nunnery still to exist. They at last came to a conclusion ; but the odds were so enor- mous, that I am afraid to venture on inserting them here ; lest om* mathematical talents should be questioned by some, who know not, so well as you and I, that in being — " The first to scale a lady's bower," some Cambridge men would not yield to any Don Juan that ever existed. But the sun shed his parting glory this evening on the heaving mound, as sweetly as ever he did in times of yore. And long may it be, before, on the spot where these gentle creatures lifted up their innocent faces to gaze on his de- parture, he shall smile on houses whose inhabitants, mock- ing the pmity of a life they could not imitate, and laughing at the feelings they could not comprehend, will look equally upon his rise, meridian splendour, or decline, — " Without the reverence and the rapture due To that which keeps all earth from being as fragile As I am in this form." If you are not inclined to come to the Sir P. Teazle part again, my boat-friends are. In my ecstasy, I unfortu- nately turned the nidder the wrong way, and made a sort of a tack — "■ Jlolloa, T — , wlial the devil are you at ?" — " Oh! in the I/rroirs." " IP^ell, thniiv them ojf at 'presetil, or ijour lonxj face may infect, im, — and K — lieyins to look pathetic.'" " Come, let's at least go in in style." 240 FACETI;^ CANTABRIGIEKSES. And this I believe we did : for, tliough I certainly per- ceived one or two gownsmen laugliing, yet, to counter- balance tliis, old Cross put on a most insinuating smile, and told us we " kin in wall." I dare say he was right. The day, commenced in men-iment, was concluded in noise, and if we any of us retired solier to bed, it was not the fault of S— 's claret.— Well, adieu, I'm very tired of this long prosy letter, and if you are not the same, it is only because you were long ago asleep. Believe me, when you awake, Your sincere and affectionate friend, T . Cambridge, March 6th, 1822. CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 241 LETTER II. BREAKFAST-PAR TIES. Dear South, — Differing so unfemininely, so inatlie- matically, and so classically, from all other societies to which, in contra-distinction, the epithet oi worldly may be applied, Cambi-idge and Oxford may well be considered as two rival and independent states — the Athens and Sparta of our northern clime.* The consequent dissimi- larity of their manners and customs has often made it wonderful to me, that we can nowhere find any regular and familiar sketches of Cambridge or Oxford life. Un- willing to inquire whether want of interest might not be one of the causes which produced this, it followed ininie- diately froni this wonder that, partly for the sake of amusement to myself, partly from an idea that some snudl portion might be imparted to others, — I myself commenced a series of letters descriptive of the scenes in wliich I had been a participator ; and of which I had been somewhat of a sentimental, somewhat of a philosophical, observer. I thought that the ladies' man might be curious to learn how we contrived to exist, when no longer basking in the life- inspiring beams of female beauty: flattering none, with none to reward our flattery ; adoring none, with none to smile on our adoration : that the man of the world might wish to know what were the petty objects of our petty aia- * I was lately reading an old M.S. book of Prophecies (or, rathtr, no prophecies, since I could have predicted as much), which wisely fore- told, that this rivalry would cease, and one of the universities obtain an universally acknowledged superiority; when either Johnian puns should assume the complexion of Attic wit, or Oxford integrity, of Spartan probity— two events equally likely to happen. 242 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. l)ition, and tlic light amusements of our lighter hours ; with few to own as masters, and little law to follow, but that of our own imaginations. I thought that the young and gay expectant of college pleasures might joy, while perusing my letters, in the anticijjation of days to come ; the mature inheritor of cares give a sigh for days gone by ; and the gray-headed tenant of the elbow-chair, lamenting that, — " Old times are changed, old manners gone," might relate the different scenes of his college life ; and, exulting that there were happily no such doings in his time, might stamp his lamentations on the degeneracy of the rising generation, by the weight of reverence and au- thority which results from the awful shake of his old white hairs. Such motives produced my last letter to you in The Brighton; but why they should not have been strong enough to elicit another, I cannot so well answer. Per- haps I was not pleased with my " Water-Parties;" per- haps it pleased not some others of my acquaintance ; perhaps I saw in the writer of the " Long Vacation," one who, with an abler pen than mine, would save me the trouble of any farther concern about it. It is of little use adding any more perhapses, since they have all proved ineffectual against your remonstrances. And so, dear South, I send you my second letter. You will j)erceive that, in the sentimental part of the character I have assumed unto myself, I am still inclined to look upon the innocent and blameless part of Cambridge life ; and, while I can yet linger aroimd the light, am unwilling to throw up the darker shades. I present things exactly as they arc, but take the liberty of choosing what the things shall be wliich I first present. Hereafter, CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 243 perhaps, when I come to write on other topics, it may be wished that I had presented things as tliey are not — but of this anon, I continue, therefore, -with a description of those par- ties which all will equally allow should be disposed of at the beginning of the day, but of which beginning itself all are not so well agreed ; some placing it at the actual dawn, some a little later, and more at noon-day ; — the gayer part of the community dating from the latter, an hour before, or an hour after, according to the particular influence of sleep upon their eyes; the reading part, and those to whom an imposition from the dean, or a gratuitous lecture from the tutor, would be rather inconvenient, maintaining the pre-eminence of the former. Though ranking myself distinctly under neither head, I choose, at times, to as- sume all the agreeables of both ; and, finding a card on my table, ^ " T n, Trin. Coll. ^ i " Breakfast. Friday, 11 o'clock." S 1 hesitated not to accept the invitation, although a breakfast-party, except for the amusements of the day which sometimes follow it, is, in its regular Cambridge meaning, a " style of thing which is my aversion." Breakfast-parties are, indeed, of all others, the most in- sufferably stupid. A company of men, some of whom know one another, perhaps ; some whose cups are ac- quainted ; and otliers who have no more than seen one another's face or gown ; reading men and non-reading ; mathematicians and fox-hunters ; classics and coachmen ; OIjTnpic charioteers in theory, and four-in-hand whips in practice ; crack empfij-Zjoffles, and full bottles cracked ; shining stars and will-o'-the wisps : all may meet together in one common room, differing in opinions, manners, and tastes ; and only agreeing in the one common point of R 2 244 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. eating. In tliis particular, indeed, there is no lack of en- tertainment : toast and muffins, ham and tongue, ducks and fowls, sausages and beefsteaks, red herrings and an- chovies, pigeon pies and veal pies, snijies and wigeons, &c. &c., hot and cold, all vie with one another in most interesting and amiable profusion ; and only yield in in- congruity to the drinkables : chocolate, coffee, cocoa, tea, ale, porter, soda-water, and, in some instances, different sorts of wines.* Such were the animate objects (fifteen in number, let be dogs, &c.), and such the inanimate (extending ad n.), which met my view on entering T n's room, at half- past eleven, on the Friday. — (You remember T n : just the same hearty blade as ever — by the by, wliat think you of T n in love ? — fact, 'pon honour !) " j4h! T— — , old hoij, ]i()w are you ?" " Here's a seat — chocolate or coffee ?" &c. When those of the party whom I knew had asked me the usual number of questions, of how long I had been up, &c., and those whom I did not know, had given the usual inspection to my dress, appearance, &c., I was allowed to take my coffee and fowl in peace, and the ge- neral conversation, which my presence had for the moment interrupted, was resumed. Horses and dogs, Newmarket and Melton hunt, stage- • To write this description for you alone would be something like sending coals to Newcastle; but I am in hopes that the sweet Brighton helle, as she sips her chocolate in bed, will deign to inquire how we manage these things at Cambridge. — Breakfast-parties, I must also tell her, are generally considered the most popular of our entertainments. The reading men patronize them because they take up least time; the non-reading men because they lead to other amusements ; the Simeonite, because, from their very nature, they cannot be so objectionable as some others; the economist, because, being obliged to have some party, they are the least expensive. Home patronize them from convenience, others from choice, and others because they must have parties all day long. CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 245 coaches and tandems, were severally, at the lower end of the table, the interesting topics of conversation. P. then bet his horse for a race against Q.'s; and Q. was astonished at his presumption. X. handed his plate for a snipe, and was ready to bet a wager he killed five snipes out of six. Y. laughed at X., and offered to go to the fens that very morning for a trial. An unfortunate Johnian made a pun ; but I could only hear the groans which followed it. At the upper end of the table, occasionally internipted by the vociferations of the lower, or by the pressing in- stances of our host to eat, the merits of the different col- leges were discussed ; — the laxity of some — the discipline of others — the comparative strictness of lecturers or easi- ness of deans. The conclusion seemed to be, that Trinity might do very well for those humdrums who patronized learning, but that, indisputably, Christ's was, in general, the sort of thing for a college. The mild and dignified urbanity of its master — the good fellowship of its fellows — the gay and gentlemanly character of the under-graduates — all received their due praise. Apropos to masters, W d begged pardon of the Trinitarians, but could not help d g the whole race of " Milk and Waters." Hereupon, the Wordsworthians looked milk-and-watery. Consequent to this ensued a discussion on poets, in which also some at the lower end joined. B— — e maintained that Percy Bysshe Shelley was utterly unintelligible : some thought differently ; some thought it was very Hkely he might be ; and some did not think at all. J f said that, for his part, he thought Barry Corn- wall a devil of a good old chonck. Many seemed at 246 FACETI.'E CANTABRIGIENSES. fault ; and one poor little gentleman, who had found some difficulty in learning; what wc were talking about, ventured to ask upon what branches of mathematics the last-men- tioned gentleman had written, and whether Mr. J f thought him equal to Whewell or Peacock ? I, for my part, did just about the same as others, and talked as much sense or nonsense, which you please, as I conveniently could. An awful pause in the whole conversation, soon after, indicated the conclusion of the first whet. This was at length broken, by an exclamation of S — r's : " C — /c .' you reprobate ! where the devil ivere you last night — wJiy came you not to my rooms, as agreed ?" " Could'nt find my way, i'faith — completely greased : never so drunk in my life. Dined icith B of Trinity — eighteen bottles of claret among seven of vs, let be Cliam- pagne. Set out for your rooms — found myself in bed this morning — clothes covered with mud — minus cap and gown — received a polite message from the proctor, that he should be happy to see me this morning, at half past ten. Told me he did me the honour to see me home last night — found me devil knows tvhere : gave me two hundred lines of Ho- mer to learn — hoped he would'nt think of such a thing : told him I could'nt learn them. All my eye — up to a trick — blow him !" Here followed, of course, a general comparison of ad- ventures with masters, tutors, deans, duns, snobs, &c. Some had been luibb'd at Barnwell, and some had given the proctor leg-bail ; some had thrashed the bull-dogs, and some had bribed them. Some had got their heads broken by snobs, and some had broken snobs' heads. Some had written impositions, but not given them up, and some had given them up without having written them, &c. &c. Again an attack was made upon the eatables, while the CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. ' 2^7 continual exclamations, " Cursed good drink this .'" — " Wholesome lap!" &c., told, that the ale, porter, &c., were rapidly approaching to the evanescent state of vanish- ing fractions. At length, the thoughts of Hall, and the reflection that it would be quite as well not to be seen dmnk in the morning, seemed to have their due effects. The men lounged back upon their chairs or sofa ; and a lazy sort of silence ensued, only broken by the occasional civilities of the breakfast-table. " What ! aground ? M " " You mag sag that, — regidarlg jloor'd !" " And you too, L " " Yes, — done up ; — shall cut Hall to-day, — liave had such a good blow-out here." When these sort of interjections had also ceased, and the men began to feel they must do something more than lounge upon the sofa all day, several amusements for the day were proposed, and, among the rest, a water-party. " Talking of water-parties," says P., " liave you erer seen a description of them in a magazine, called ' The Brighton V " Q. replied, that reading such things was quite out of his way. X. said, that any one might have written as much. Y. thought he himself coidd when he was at school ; but now, thank Heaven, it was a very different case ; — he did'nt come to Cambridge to write, and all that sort of tiling. M. spoke of ' The Brighton ' as altogether a cursed low style of thing, — but the poor wight had better have held his tongue, for he was immediately opened upon from all sides. " Pardon me, sir, hut you cmmot have given much attention to it," says I f. 248 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENS£S. " He's a Norihitc .'" whispers S r. " He's a radical.'" says C ii. " He's a Johnian pig J" says B s. " 27ie improvement since the Jirst number is immense /" says T n. " You're rirjltt, old hoy /" says W d. And, although the ignorant wretcli did not perhaps hear all this, yet he was cowed by plenty of black looks. The Brighton, therefore, upon the whole, came off with flying colours ; and indeed one gentleman, who seemed to have his information from good sources, mysteriously hinted, that fear of your magazine was the cause of the long-expected Cambridge Quarterly's delay. The water-party was arranged, and its members de- parted. Others, according to their reading humours, or other various engagements, severally made their morning conge, and vanished, till T n, I f, W d, B -s, S r, and myself, were the only remaining loiterers over the breakfast-table. " llHio's a mind for a contemplative walk to the ' Byro- nian Grove ?' " S r. " Where the devil is that ?" I f- " What ! you a third-year man, S r, and not know Lord Byron s walk ! Out upon you ! Come, then, place yourself under our guidance, and you shaU not repent it. Wordsworthian as you are, you shall own it as a spot that Wordsworth himself, in his most fastidious moods, might hace selected for meditation." W d. " You're right, old hoy .'" To Lord Byron's walk, therefore, as nothing better was proposed, we resolved to adjourn. We mounted our caps and gowns — passed by the back of Queen's Coll., and were soon in full progress over the fields to Granchester. It was sufficient for happiness that there was a clear blue sky above us, and that the pure healthy breeze of CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 249 ail April morn floated around us — but the very nature of a walk forcing too strongly upon us an idea of the con- stitutional walks of reading men, forbade this happiness to be more than tranquil, while our conversation and amuse- ment by the way was of that character which is so felici- tously described in one of the introductory epistles to Marmion : — " To thee, perchance, this rambling strain Recals our summer walks again, "When, doing nought, and, to speak true, Not anxious to find ought to do, The wild imbounded hills we rang'd ; WhUe oft our talk its topic chang'd. And, variable as our way, Rang'd unconfin'd from grave to gay. full oft we could pursue Our walk in social silence too." The country round Cambridge has been frequently de- picted as totally devoid of attraction : and it is not difKcidt to conjecture the causes of such a misrepresentation. Cam- brido-e men are not in general much addicted to a search after the picturesque, and are moreover predisposed to imadne this search would be ineffectual, from the notions of flatness and barrenness which have been imprinted on their minds while pursuing their sports of hunting and shooting over the open country. Others are too much ab- sorbed in mathematical reveries to do more than now and then raise their eyes to calcvdate the particular distance of some particiUar object; and the greater number are well contented to see with other people's eyes, and to say just what they hear said by others. That it is a misrepresen- tation, however, you are fully aware ; and let the sweet Brighton beauty be willing, till she can visit Cambridge, to 250 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. see with my eyes ; and when I shall be at Brighton, I will readily promise that the light of hcr's shall colour all my objects. Let her accompany us in our walk, to whore an extended green, sloping gradually to the Cam, and bounded on the flank by a rural hamlet, indicates the vicinity of the village of f iranchester. Here let her pause, and, turning in the direction of the Cam, which rolls below at the dis- tance of al)out 150 paces, she will see, " I ween, a full fair sight." Directing the eye across the wide meadow which lies between the Cam and the village of Trumpington, the first object which attracts the attention is the white castel- lated turret of Trumpington Church, rising, at the distance of about one quarter of a mile, in solemn sublimity, above the condensed mass of clustering elms ; like a good and great man, retiring from the noise and pomp of the world to make his vassals happy, — so happy do trees appear, as they wave in the spring breeze, to that holy church. A little farther to the left, the density of the elms is again broken, to give a view of the old manor-house of Trump- ington ; which, by its adjacency to the church, may be supposed to present the idea of the good steward who has grown gray and respected in the service of that good and great master. The whole front of these elms is breasted by a fringe of firs and beeches, &:c., whose elegant and waving shapes, and light green verdure, make a fine contrast with the dig- nified family solemnity of the elms ; and, at this distance, present the same sort of appearance as that which is some- times afibrded by a field, partially illumined by the rays of a partially clouded sun, while the rest is left in shade. . It is by this same species of larch, firs, &c., stretching away towards the left, that the horizon, in the distance, is bounded. They skirt the whole length of the Trumpington road ; and the shapes into which their conical tops seem, CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 251 at this point of view, to cut the horizon, are the Vandykes which arc sometimes seen to fonii the flomice or other or- nament of a lady's di'ess: tliough, I must own that, in the case of these said Vandykes waving round a neat ankle, or serving to reveal " short glimpses of a breast of snow," few of us Cantabs would have stood meditating with such fear- less confidence, and calm equanimity, as that with which we now gazed on the light green firs, and the clear blue sky. In the valley below, gliding away like happiness, and " making its waves a blessing as they flow," the quiet Cam quietly pursued its serpentine course. While the leafy- road which connected Trumpington with Granchester, the miU on that road, and the Granchester church of elegiacal celebrity, completed on the right a felicitous picture, such as is not often met with ; and such as, sweet lady, you could not show me at Brighton. You will tell me, perhaps, to stand on the downs, and look at the " wide wide sea." But I will answer that the sight of the eternal ocean only forces upon me too abruptly an idea of my own insignifi- cance, to allow me to indulge anything but awe : that " my spirit is mute in the presence of power:" that by the sea- shore I am lost — but that here, here, in this qiuet scene, " I feel hideed I am a man," with all his love, powers, and sweet imaginations. You are not satisfied yet, perhaps : your mind has been attuned to something gi-ander. Well — we can meet you even here. Turn directly round upon Cambridge, and the view of King's College Chapel, tower- ing in unapproachable grandeur above tlie dimished col- leges, will almost impress you with an idea that you ought to have been blind to aught else, and will inspire you with many of those feelings which have been made familiar to you on your native shore. It is a sight which must have its due, though various effects, upon all. Many would own the imperious necessity 2.">2 FACETI.E CANTABUIGIENSES. of bursting fortli in its praise ; and more the obligation of feeling its beauty in silence. The silence, however, of the tongue is temporary; and the feeling of the heart may endiu-e till heart and tongue are alike at rest in the grave. It is from this cause, perhaps, that, familiar as King's College Chapel had become to us, \vc were still inclined to regard it with all the feeling, but not with all the silence of early acquaintanceship. Much was said that I have no doubt was often said before, with much the same emotion. If each of us had been alone, this would certainly have endured to the point of sending us away moralizing and m.elancholy : but the circumstance of our being in company, and the necessity which every one felt of not being behind- hand in saying something extraordinary for the amusement of the rest, greatly tended to impair the delicacy of our feeling. No question will be made of this, when I mention some of the comparisons which our emulation produced — T n (" magna componere parvis") compared the appearance of the chapel to that of a hog on a moor, in a high wind, with all its bristles erect, and all its pigs around it. And this comparison ought to be borne in mind by all those who wish to have any light thrown before Byron's controversy with Bowles. I f compared its appearance, at this distance, to the idea which had been left upon his mind, by what he had somewhere read of the great sea-serpent, rearing its immense length of neck from the watei's, and calmly gazing around, without deigning to notice the sensation its presence had caused. B s, to that of Robinson Crusoe's ship amid the canoes of the savages. W d, to that of an oblong bed of tulips in agarden of cabbages ; or a banyan-tree in a field of tobacco. S r, to Lord Byron among the poets. CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 353 " You might jitst as well have said, S r to a proc- tor among the hull-dogs ! Why, my dear fellow, lojiat the deril lias Lord Byron to do with a chapel? — Cambridge with poetry ! — or Cambridge men with poets ? *S' r ! S r! you will never be a wrangler I but there might still be some hope for you, if Lord Byron should ever have any influence on a mathematical jJote !" Comparisons may be ludicrous without throwing a shade of contempt upon the superior object of the comparison : it is to the inferior, and consequently, in this case, to almost all nature, that the odium would be attached. Our reverence therefore was not diminished because we had laughed, although it certainly was not of that sublime species which the poor pagan, in his ignorance, would have felt ; who, turning round to gaze on this structure, would have bowed down, exclaiming " Behold the God who created all this beauty." We might envy the intensity of the feeling itself, but not the primary ideas which produced it. And you, fair lady, imaginary companion of our way ! you would say, with the aptest comparison, that the view of this chapel reminded you of the broadside of the men- of-war you have sometimes seen off Brighton, while all their sails are set, and they are about to bear to distant lands the learning and produce of a happier clime, with the knowledge of the God who made it liappier. And I shoidd compai-e it — to what? — to your own sweet self, — " When 'mid your handmaids in the hall, You stand superior to them all." Go then, — return to your own dear sea ; but, when you wander on its shore, let the memory of a scene that lives l)ut in mental review mix with the pleasurable impulses of the present. Go — walk on the Steyne, and tell your friends with what canny youths you have spent the morning — gaze on the splendid mansion of the great king of u great 254 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. pco])le, and tell them that you have looked on the more splendid residence of a greater sovereitjn — describe it to tlicni in all its beauty — and, if an idea of tiie tenth part only of its sublimity be imparted, then not in vain, dear lady, shall we have walked together. But stay, lady ! linger yet a little while on this spot, and you may trace our route to yon farther bridge, that })asses over a branch of the Cam. To the eye it is but an arrow-flight, and the lineaments of those two gownsmen who are talking there, are almost distinguishable. But swift feet cannot travel so fast as bright eyes, and our's cannot be very swift in lea\'ing you. Our path, moreover, is circular, and we must travel it, with but the tantalizing idea of how pleasant it would be to see its beauty reflected on fair faces. Now we pass by Granchester Church ; now you catch a glimpse of us crossing the meadow in which you see that neat cottage; now winding round the brier-decked pathway which leads to the mill ; the mill is passed ; and once more, for the last time, a parting glance of us is obtained at the destined bridge. One wave of the hand, and so farewell : — ^"By church, by mill, by hawthorn-tree, Each after each are disajjpearing ; Each after each, their tassels rearing, Upon the farther bridge you see." And now, I fear, I must bid i/ou farewell. The matter of my proposed subjects has increased so much, in its progress, beyond my previous intention, that I am obliged to pause for the present, in order to keep within the limits of a letter. Before I could possibly give you a saunter in Lord Byron's walk, and re-conduct you to Cambridge by Pemberton's, your patience and mine will be pretty well agreed in taking leave of us. Ever your's sincerely, T . 255 LETTER III. THE LONG VACATION, BEING A TRUE AND FAITHFUL ACCOUNT OF THE PIL- GRIMAGE OF A " Jesuit" to the banks of THE cam, in the DOG-DAYS. Many days and months have passed away into the mists of time, since you and I, dear Sonth, enjoyed together the luxm-ies and the sechision of a college life ; since we rambled, arm-in-arm, in the sacred walks of Trinity, lingered in rapture beneath the air-hung dome of King's, or coasted the stagnant waters of that noted stream which guards the groves of Jesus, in our passage to the sluices ; since we hurried forth, from the distractions of the schools or the lecture-room, to look after country prospects and country damsels, upon the narrow pathway that leads to Gran- chester ; since we made our pilgrimage to the ennobled, though humble church of Madingley, where Gray is said to have composed that most exquisite of English elegies, the "Elegy in a Country Church-yard;" since we trimmed our little sail upon the Cam ; since we studied the an(/les and cannons of mine host of the Three Tuns at Chesterton, in preference to the angles of Dominus Euclid, or the canons of Porson ; since we wooed the invigoi-ating breezes upon the hills of Gog and Magog till we had forgotten the balmy airs of Helicon ; since we deemed all that was respectable or learned was hid beneath a "curtain" of prince's stuff, or a tassel of black silk ; since, in short, the name of " gownsman" was our delight, and the name of ' snob" our curse. Our examinations are now all over ; our fees all paid ; 256 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. our terms all completed; our studies finished; and our success determined ; and we may now go forth from the land of gowns to the land of petticoats, and prove, if we please, that there may be a paradox in nature as well as in ecclesiastical lore, by exhibiting ourselves as married bachelors. We can now look upon the inconveniences of an uni- versity life with a smile, and on its gratifications with a sense of past delight: the name of lecturer, or tutor, or dean, or master, or proctor, or vice-chancellor, pass away unheeded ; and we have long ceased to shudder at the sight of a moderator's man. Yet, methinks, you have not altogether so bent your mind upon the affairs of this busy world, as to be indifferent to the good or evil report, the inci-casing or decreasing fame of that place which your youthful labours rendered dear, or your youthful frolics rendered memorable ; — of those scenes, which beheld, and protected, and encouraged, and rewarded the exertions of your "literary hours." As to myself, I do confess, I have still a yearning after old sports and pastimes, old studies and pursuits; and, though in rural retirement and learned leisure, surrounded by all the charms of a beautiful country and a happy fire- side, I never hear the sound of college or hall, but my heart leaps up again, and I am, in imagination, transported once more into the magic land of signs and symbols, and enshrined in the venerable l)uildings and classic aisles of our good old Alma Mater. Perhaps, however, yoin* fate hath never been to visit Granta, when the suns and the silence of autumn have proclaimed universal and university holidays ; when the bustle of a short term hath yielded to the inactivity of a long vacation; when the wisdom and wiggcrisin of Gol- gotha have disappeared, and the organ of St. Mary's hath CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 257 pealed " its choral strains " to an almost empty pit, and still emptier gallerh's ; when cloisters and courts are alike silent in their desolation, and the combination-room hath left its revel and gaiety to the porter's lodge and servant's hall. That there is such a time last August afforded me a proof; and, as the thousand mathematical eyes who, in the fury of friendship and joy, at sight of the Brighton Maga- zine (and I will say, Cambridge Magazine), will yet bear recollection of the concise demonstration and proof positive of Newton and Eudoxus, I will even bring to my mind the observation of the late venerable Professor Vince, that a theorem without a proof, like a coat without sleeves, is worth naught ; and, in the true spirit of scholastic conse- quence, demonstrate as clearly as I can, that " Cambridge, in the long vacation, is, like Mr. Trevelyan's Essay on Pims, very dull and stupid." Iliad not been in Cambridge for many months ;^ — the last time I resided there, was during the full bustle of an October tenn, wlien Freshmen looking stupid things. Sophs looking wicked things, and questionists wise things, met me at every step, and gowns of every cut and colour which the skill of the sclmeider or fancy of the dyer could invent, foniied such an impenetrable jihalanx of stuft' and silks, that one might have fancied the times back " when all wore gowns," and, as Tacitus says, " the sexes were scarcely distinguishable." As I threw myself from the coach-box, I exclaimed, in all the warmth of filial afiection, likeWolsey at the gate of Leicester Abbey. — " I am come," once more, " to lay nw bones amongst you," ye venerable spires and ancient domes! It is a joyous moment, when we return to the dearly-cherished scenes of our youth, at an unex- pected time ; and thus it was with me. The vehicle, under the able conduct of John Smith, landed me safely at the s 258 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. office of that well-known sign (scarcely less noted than its predecessor of the tusk, in merry East-Cheap,) the Ceru- lian Pig of the Cantaljs ; and, as soon as I had tipped the coachec, and parcelled off my luggage for the " gentleman in waiting," and given directions respecting it to the suur- visaged landlady, I sallied forth to seek a domicile, as my intention was to stay a week or more. As I paced along the pavement, I felt a sensation for which I could not account, — it was that of loneliness ; and yet how could I be lonely amidst the remembrances of glee- aome days of " auld lang syne?" — I entered Deighton's shop ; but it was unfrequented : the books stood in undis- turbed security on the shelves, and the coimters showed no marks of the prying haste which discomposes many volumes in the search for one, and which sometimes is rather a nuisance to the order-loving shopman, who stands sidkily by, whilst the book-worm, scorning knife or ivory, applies his, perhaps, unwashed fingers in the separation of hot- pressed fine-wove duodecimos. There appeared to be nothing new, because of purchasers there were not many ; and the only volumes which revelled in all the purity of their pristine whiteness, and free from tossings from one learned hand to another, which the others had been blessed with, were the ponderous tomes of the French mathema- ticians, or the pei'haps smaller, though certainly not less expensive and less useful ones, of our English analyst, Pro- fessor W , and his mechanical friend the Dean of E . There was no one within, so I once more started on my travels. "Whither shall I go?" said I to myself, as I stood upon the lower step of tlie door-way. " To St. Rha- degund's," whispered my conscience; for I felt persuaded I ought to pay my devoirs at her shrine first. " About ship," said I to myself: and I accordingly took my way towards that best beloved of all imiversity attractions. 1 CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 259: coiild not be but struck with the silence and solemnity which reigned in undisputed sway over the streets through wliich I wandered ; and, as I cast a glance towards the venerable gateway of tliat learned pile, where Newton had pondered, and Barrow had studied, I thought of the liun- dreds I had seen on some saint's day, or its eve, arrayed in vestal white, crowding from evening chapel. AU-Saint's church-yard seemed all gloom : and Sidney Street, that field of many a fray and feud, that territory of the whiskered king, seemed as still as if the name of " gownsman " had never echoed in it ; the poplars waved to and fro with a sort of melancholy motion, over the heavy red-brick walls, and, save the insects whicli flitted amongst their leaves, were the only representatives of motion in the street, from Magdalen Bridge to Trinity Church : not a coach ; not a bargee ; not even he of the " three-nuikt hat " and the quiz-glass, — the notorious Jemmy Gordon. I hastened down, almost involuntarily, the narrow serpentine lane, which in religious times was looked upon with a degree of sacredness, as its name implies ; not a footstep, save mine own, paced along the pavement ; and I thought that, had Mr. Maberley (the Jose^ih of Cambridge, and the Virtuvius of Chesterton) ever seen it so still, he might have been spared the mortification of seeing his edifying pamphlet on the corioiptions of that street, divested of its hypocrisy. I thought of tlie changes and tlie chances of the Freshman's life, from the time of his coming up from boarding-school, a raw and inexperienced spooney, to the time of liis going down again, — less liable to insult, but more liable to laughter, — the knight of the spoon ; and whilst I thought thereon I sighed ; — but not for myself. I had a friend who thus went oflf with triinnphing in his disappointment, proud and pleased, through very spite of himself, at his mighty honour, like the sun from the clouds of November, smiling « 0. 260 FACETI^ CANTABRIGIENSES. amidst gloom : but, alas ! his joy was short, and the stigma attached unjustly to that man who happens to have a name best suited for tlie occasion of the ridiculous epithet, caused such depression of spirits and consequent loss of health, that the church-yard shortly received him fresli from the senate-house, amidst the countless nuiltitudes who had, un- honoured, yet more honoured, staid their time on earth, ere called away. Surely the planners of our university laws have somewhat to answer for, in thus allowing their favours to bring disgrace upon, perhaps, their worthiest members ; and, whilst the name of Senior Wrangler and the gradations of Senior Optimis bring respect— whilst they have golden and silver spoons in abundance, — why add to their store of distinguishments the paltry wooden one, — that which causes more disgrace to attach to individuals, colleges, and examiners, than all the benefits derived from the institutions of their benefactors can do away with? Oxford proceeds on a better plan; and, contented, if it cannot speak in praise, to be silent, in a happy measiu-e mingles all in one common lot. Why, when the sister uni- versity has set the example, and her precedent has been followed in nearly the most trivial circumstances, will the hand of power refrain from blotting out the decree from its rolls, which thus stigmatizes all, from the highest to the lowest ? Behold me, then, once more, at the gate-way of the " ever-honoured Jesus," as Mr. Coleridge, himself a Jesuit, has excellently said. The trees which overhang the lofty wall on each side shed a melancholy gloom over the road, and darkened the almost untenanted " barracks." The long avenue was still ; not a step was heard, nor a voice came from the inner courts ; the windows in the long front were all blinded ; and the very weeds, which are so beau- tiful an ornament to the walls on either side (and which a I CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 261 barbarous taste would, a year or two ago, have rooted up), seemed rioting in desolation. The hands on the chapel- dial pointed to the hour of six, the well-known hour when I have listened with pleasure to the heavy peal of the soli- tary bell, which told the time of — - " Prayers, and thanks, and bended knees;" And, as the numbered tones fell upon my ear, memory, for the moment, aroused the dearest associations which connected me with the walls I was gazing on, and these gave place to feelings of a more agonizing nature. Still- ness was over all, as of a canopy. No rustling of gowns ; no hurrying of time-saving worshippers (frequenters of chapel not for the love of God, but the dread of the dean) ; no passing salutations, as acquaintances met, betrayed the character of the place I then stood in. I half doubted whe- ther I ought to proceed, — " Shall I not," said I, inwardly, " be an intruder on this solitude ? — but, no ! these gates will never forbid mi/ entrance ;" and I hastened forward. The porter's lodge was barred. The gate was open — and I entered the first of our three small, though neat quadrangles. An air of miusual gloom was here also ; the grass had at- tained an enormous length for the time of year, and plainly showed that neither scythe nor foot had lately touched it : there was a time, when I had strayed over it, in spite and defiance of the herb-loving fellows, merely to sliow that I did not regard their whims a blade of grass ; but I could not then, and I would not have intruded upon the sacred plot for all the hay in Christendom. I was doubtftil whe- ther to return or explore yet further ; when the figure of chanticleer, over the enti'ance to the cloisters, invited me to wander there. As I passed along, the awful silence and darkness of the place again awoke me to remembrance of long-past days, and I thought on " Auld-lang-syne," till 262 FACETI/E CANTABRIGIENSES. every action of my college life rose before me like the spirits of the murdered, to Macbeth. It was in this part of the college that I had kept the better part of my time. I ascended the stairs leading to my old apartments. The door, as we were wont to say, was sported, yet bearing, upon its rough coat of black, the impressions of my friend W 's knuckles. The sight recalled his image to my mind, and I bethought me of his merry-looking face,^ — his neat gentleman-like appearance ; and, withal, that fund of inexhaustible humour which sparkled in his eye. I be- thought me of days long gone, when he and I had, in the warmth of feeling, and hey-day of youth, strolled forth from that very door-way, for our noon-tide saunter, or evening voyage : I thought of that witching time of night, when, after taking our " pint-stoup" of negus or our beaker of milk-punch, Ave had gone foi'th " like the Chaldeans to watch the stars ;" or, like Brutus's dog, to " bay the moon*," or rather like the university wakes, as they may justly be called, to serenade the fellows with " song, and harp, and minstrel lore." " Days of my youth," thought J, with the Honourable Mr. , of Virginia, "ye are vanished away." Time has passed heavily with me since these walls echoed to my ears the merry laugh or still merrier choiiis ? " As I mused thereon," a sound came from the opposite side of the court ; was it, thought I, from those rooms where the other worthy member of our tri- umvirate has joined us so often in the praise of wine and song ? — but he too was away : and the sound which I heard was the dull shriek of a starling from the chapel-tower. As I was about to retire, the entrance to the hall met my vision ; how could I pass unnoticed the scene of our feast- ings and our examination ? I scrambled up the steps, and again stood beneath the roof where I had so often stood • Shakspeare, Jul. Cxs. Act. IV. the Tent-Scene. CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 2G3 before ; tlie heavy cloth-covered door creaked on its hinges with a dull and monotonous sound, and then shut with a clap which plainly told it closed upon a solitude. All was qiuet here, the tables shining from their unstained varnish, and the venerable features of Tobias Rustat and the Archbishops Sterne and Cranmer, in the same position as when I last gazed on them ; " it is," said I, with the motto above them, " semper eadem." But there was an air of gloom in their house of feasting. The very portraits on the dark walls seemed anxiously looking for the wonted banquet. "And was it here that I have often tasted pudding a la college and charlotte worthy the palate of a Lucullus, and cracked puns worthy the ears of a Johnian? Was it here," said I, "that I have plied the graceless knife and graceful joke ? Was it here I fagged at -\- and — , .r and g, till I almost forgot my a, b, c ? Was it here I funked at Mr. 's jjlai/i and literal translation ?" and in order to save a place "above the marl,'' as the Oxonians say, that I murdered chronology as easily as Napoleon did his janissaries; that I metamorphosed logarithms and differences so much like my predecessor of the nose, good master Ovid, that I, at last, found the difference between philosophy and common sense to be a maximum in my case, and discovered my head to be a log, and that Lacroix's book, like that of the associate calcnlists, was all d — d stirft'? " Was it here" 1 was proceeding, like a hero of the buskin, in my soliloquy, when my lucubrations were jirevented by the entrance from the combination-room, of, as I thought, one of the fellows. "Well," said I, "my Jesuit, thy house is not left unto thee desolate?" The person who entered bore all the appearance, by his dress, of a gentleman ; and, imagining ho might be a friend, I accordingly doffed my beaver and bared my fist for a salute ; but ye gods ! what did I see, why my own ggj), dandified to a degree of 2G4 FACET1.E CANTABRIGIENSES. wonderment, liis collar starched as stiff as buckram, his cloth as knowing as any fellow-commoner's, or London appi-entice's on a Sunday, — his coat of the newest fashion, and his legs — O ye sons of Crispin, like those of whom Homer has sung, — the vjwr.fj.ihg Ayjwii, well booted and spurred. Said I, after a gaze of some minutes, astonished and half mad at the fellow's foolery, " Why, , what the deuce has become of you all ? fellows, fellow-commoners, pensioners, and all gone and vanished away, as if such had never been I I have rambled througli courts, cloisters, and hall ; and at last have discovered, that there is yet an in- habitant in tlicse walls, though like the bottle whose wine is gone, and filled with air. Now all tlie wit and wisdom and power is departed, fools and asses fill their places : where are they all?" The maulkin answered witli a conge, as low as his laundress's labour would allow him, " 'Tis the long vacation, sir ; and you know, sir, our masters are all gone down, and" — and, rejoined I, impatiently, " left their servants to keep up the stupidity and absurdity, by presenting themselves as living caricatures of their puppyism and folly ! But where is the master ?" — " In town, sir."— "The dean ?"— "At Cheltenham, sir."— "The tutor?" — "On the continent, sir." — "And so," said I, as soon as I could collect the true account of their absence, " the tutor is 'j^ricking' over the Apennines, on a broken- kneed mule, or tracking the path of Hannibal over the Alps, or scribbling bad Greek and radicalism in a monkish album, in imitation of my Lord Byron, or some other curiosity of the day, or, perhaps, scratching the symbolic representations of Q ^ or \/, or any other a h surd idea, upon the glaciers of Mont St. Bernard, and chuckling over the fancy tliat some future traveller will put them down in his note-book, as proofs that the ice has existed before the flood, and that these are tlie remains of some proe- CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 265 Adamitic inscription ; and, as if this were not enough, the dean is, I suppose, squandering his health, his manners, and his chapel-fines, at a watering place ; and the master gone preferment-himting to Carlton House ; and these ancient and religious foundations left to jackdaws and jack- asses and jackanapes ! Shades of Alcock and Cranmer, look not down in wrath upon the walls ye did adorn and build, hut rather in pity and forgiveness ; the tide will soou return and bear the weeds which now sail so gaily do\vn the channel to their own native ooze, and all will again be right." As I spake this, I left the hall and the yyp, the latter wondeiing whether his old master had taken a lease of the witlings of Bedlam, or whether his senses had taken leave of him. I was sorry afterwards I had spoken so severely of those good friends of order and preservers of old institutions, the officers of the place ; for I have often had reason to speak well of their kindness and attention, which, notwithstanding the momentary forgetfulness of them which my "man of men" occasioned, I can never wholly eradicate from my mind. Peace be with them, and my humble henison ! Their lot is not the most agreeable, and though, perhaps, they enjoy the "ofium cum di(/)i/fafe," yet they often feel the reversed lot of single blessedness." I now walked out towards the grove, passed the closed doors of buttery and kitchen, those storehouses of punch and beef-steaks, where I had often issued orders for a nightly frolic or Sunday-morning festival. You must re- member the little court with its narrow sward and lilac trees, and the traceries of the hall- window, jutting from amidst the ivy which creeps up the old wall of the college, and the iron gateway at the end, and the green fields peep- ing through the insterstices of the rails, and the distant fiow of the river, all affording a pleasing and not unenviable change to the darkness and obscurity of cloisters and cor- 266 FACETIAE CANTABRIGIENSES. ridors. And 1 have reason to remember it too. Often have I scaled those walls and that gate, at the hazard of my neck and my tenns, to save a sixpenny fine, or escape a twenty-line imposition for keeping late hours ; and often have I sat like " Niobe, all tears," in a dead fmik at top of that little building in the corner, when a solitary step ap- proaching has alarmed me in my fancied cuniiingness, lest I should be discovered. Oh, I never shall forget the time when a tile, which my careless foot had loosened, fell before a poor Freshman, who was musing in careless loneliness at the murky midnight of one December Satm'day ; away he scampered, believing that St. Rhadegund, or some of her nuns, had come out to accompany him in his dreams of imagination : poor wretch ! I believe he was planning a poem upon evening, and had come out for poetical ideas upon the subject. The report next morning was, that the college was haunted, and that the said Freshman poet and poetical Freshman, in the fury of inspiration, "his eye rolling in fine frenzy," to the roof of , actually saw the spirit of old Alcock, in a flannel dressing-gown and red nightcap, in a posture of humiliation, looking like Marius over the ruins of Carthage, upon the walls he had founded. And, to tell the truth, I was glad it was credited; for it was generally understood that I personated the worthy bishop that evening ; in my hurry I having dr()])pcd the cap which I borrowed of a friend (my own being lost in a " row" with the bargees). This cap was known by its owner's private mark, " Golgotha," and, as it was brought to me next morning, I said, "Golgotha! rightly art thou named, for the place of a skull thou art, and a precious nmnshdl too ! Tliis, and many other scenes of /might-errantry came fresh to my memory, and, as I saimtered up the walk, " I fought all my old battles o'er again," and lived again in all the fancied pleasures and freaks of college term-keeping. But, CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 261 alas ! how changed was this place, since I last walked in it, in the pride of cap and gown. The grass was growing between the flints which paved the narrow pathway, and the span-ows alone proved that life was not wholly gone. I reached the gate, and on the brick pillar which forms one support for it, I gazed involuntarily ; for it had often plea- sured nie to look upon a name which, cut there, had rendered it immortal : that name, yet remaining, was that of Gilbert Wakejicld, a man ever dear to the scholar or the man of feeling ; and can you wonder, as a Jesuit, I should have I'ecognised the characters with acuteness of enjoyment? Perhaps, in a moment of cnniti, — perhaps when a Fresh- man, it was sculptured there, little thinking, that he should thereafter raise, by his own industry and from his brain, a monument far more lasting, — far more pleasing, than pillars of brick and stone. Fame has immortalized him, and he might have left to his gyp, the short-lived reputation which a piece of Sheffield cutlery has here betrayed to have been his desire. He may say, indeed, with Horace, — " Exegi momunentum sere perennius Regalique situ pyramidum altius ?" I took a parting glance, and, returning through the shades of the cloisters and courts, again found myself at the ex- terior gateway of the college. It was now approaching towards sunset : the evening was beautiftilly mild, the sky of a deep blue, set off by some light clouds, which partly shone in their native purity, and partly gUttered in the farewell beams of the descending luminary. The west was one blush of crimson, the town was silent and dark, save where the many-figured spires and turrets of the college gates and chapels smiled in the last blaze of splendour. I sauntered off to enjoy the mUd- ness of the season, upon the " pieces" which separate, 268 FACETI/E CANTABRIGIENSES. thougli serving to connect, the respective mansions of our acadeniical residonce. But 1 Iktu fbuiul that tlie town was yet aUvc ; — the road from Barnwell was literally crowded and covered with the families of the townsfolk returning from their evening walk. I recognised many (/jipa and college servants amongst them, all aping, by their demeanour, the manners of their betters, and elocutionizing, in strains of Ciceronian volubility, upon subjects of every kind, whether calculated jOr not for the abilities of the speaker to express, or the mind of the hearer to comprehend. There appeared the same studied kind of false gentility amongst the trades- people; and I could not help being amused as the successive parties passed me, at the ideas presented to me by this motley group of borrowed manners, and perhaps I should not be wrong to say, stolen consequence. The men endeavoured to look honest, and the women, I could observe, wished to be thought modest. As I vras hastening from them, and about to turn down towards Emmanuel, I was accosted by the only gownsman I had yet seen, my old friend N . A mutual start of surprise was followed by mutual congratulations and mutual in- quiries, and the conference ended by our joining company, and adjourning to his quarters. As soon as I could get an opportunity of asking him a few questions, unconnected with the immediate cause of our satisfaction at meeting thus unexpectedly, I stated to him my disgust at finding Cambridge so much altered from what I liad known it. " I have been," said I, " to the north, rambling amidst mountains, and lakes, and waterfalls, and drinking in the inspiration of song and quietude, from the most beautiful scenes of nature, and am now, on my retvu'ii to my friends, refreshed and delighted with my t(mr. I thought, however, to have derived some gratification by taking this good old CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 269 place in my way, not doubting that I should have met with, at least, some old faces and old friends ; but I am horribly disajjpointed, and after having come with the determination to stay a week or two, I find myself, after a few hours' residence, re-detemiined to do no such thing. I shall in- stantly away, and leave my promised stay to some future time, when loneliness will not alone reign predominant." — " You are right, " said he, " you are right; and, when we have discussed a few cups of that beverage of which it has been said, — ' Nee tecum vivere possum, nee sine te,' I will give a few plain and positive reasons for the propriety of such a measure." We had by this time reached the walks of Trinity, now untenanted, except where a few bed- makers were studying attitudes on the brink of the river : and, in a few minutes, were once more within the sound of gyp-room and s'lzings. We quafled our chalked milk and water quietly enough, and passed a pleasant evening very agreeahhj, as the cockney has it ; and, tliough our con- versation was not so edifying as one might imagine it would have been, had the bard of Rimini and his friend '^Jupiter,' and that " magnum Jovis incrementum," the late (or as R — , of St. John's, would say, the " defunkit") Johnny Keats, been present ; yet, on the whole, it was " mighty good, truly." After bitch had been removed (we request our female readers not to be alarmed — the Gradus ad Cantab, a work eminently useful, when reading of Cantabs and their amusements, will satisfy their scruples), N addressed me " as follows" (so saith the reporter of the radical meetings in this part of the world) ; but as I had forgotten to liring my scril)e with me, and I cannot write s/icir/-hand (as may be evidenced by the length of tliis 270 TACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. article, wliich I crave pardon for, of your thousands of readers), I will not take upon me to say I report verbatim ; nevertheless, the observations my friend made will serve to show tliat my original theorem (for I must regard the Kuclidizing Fresliman), was not without proof. " I have been," said he, " a constant resident in the university, tenn and non-term, since the beginning of last October, and have, of course, seen Cambridge in all the gaiety whicli the return of the men never fails to bring, and in all the dulness which tlieir going down always produces. I have resided here tlirough the greater part of four successive years, and have enjoyed the idleness of a college life, as well as bowed my back beneath the weight of college discipline ; and I do assure you, candidly, that I would rather be subjected to the bore of lectures, schools, and senate-house, for twenty years to come, than have the task of residing again through ' the long vacation.' We rise late or early, as we please ; no sound of the matin-bell to awake us to devotion and mathematics, no vesper-bell to call us away from wine and wit, to pray out our ' times,' no dread of being ' put out of sizings and commons,' at the whim or the caprice of a 'senior,' or 'dean,' to disturb oiu- serenity of mind. But tliese blessings, if snch they maij he called, are amply com- pensated by a ' number numberless' of contrary circum- stances. The few who stay here during the summer are put to sad shifts to amuse themselves, when tired with reading : there are no morning calls to be made or received ; no invitations to ' wine' to be given or rejected ; no plans to be laid for the next mom's ramble. One cannot always be ' at work ;' and to fly to a newspaper for relaxation, and puzzle the brain with politics, after six hours' liard fag at Thucydides or Newton, is no sinecure, particularly as the speculations of modem writers are almost as intelligible, and certainly as unedifying, as the ' riddle of the Sphinx,' CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 2VI therefore, as we say in argument, the Union is but little looked to in summer. I sometimes feel inclined to play a rubber at billiards, but there is no one to play with ; and if I would try my hand at a cricket-bat, the ground is covered with none but ' snobs;' — so, from day to day I linger on, amidst books and papers, sickened and unsatisfied, like the starling which Sterne tells of, always exclaiming, — ' I can't get out :' for, if I would, there is a drawback on my scheme, and I must suffer other hands than my own to gather the fruit in my own garden ; other ai-ms to support the slender forms of those who would fly to me for protection ; other eyes to behold, and other ears to listen to, the sweet, fond, and kind speeches of my fair friends at home ; whilst, with the dread of an examination, and the fear of a failure, I am still at college, alone and unhappy, waiting the decision of a vacant fellowship, wliich, if attained, will scai-cely recom- pense me for the trouble and uneasiness it has occasioned me. But this is not all : the catalogue of long-vacation miseries is an almost endless one, and any one who under- stands calculation might show it coidd be extended ' ad infin'itum,' as easily as Dr. Wood proves the bifimte diLHsibUity of a piece of mahogany. The comforts of a college room, which, at other times, amply compensate the nuisance of term-keeping, are, in some measure, denied to us ; our gifps are grown so saucy and so smart, such puppies and gentlemen of their own opinions, that our coats might become an inch thickened with dust, before they would condescend to brush them ; and our shoes might positively become re-tanned from constant wear, before they would clean them. The ladies also partake the consequences of their mates, and it is with the greatest difficulty we can get our beds made, our rooms swept, or our china washed ; it is all dirt, confusion, laziness, and insolence, from cook to cook's scullion, fi'om conunencement Tuesday to the tenth 272 FACETIiE CANTABRIGIENSES. of October. You would be astonished at tlie airs these butterflies give tliemsclves ; they will not acknowledge a superior in the summer, though they live by and out of thcni : you shall see a fellow who, in term time, would do any dirty job with joy, and a hundred bows, in ' tlie long vacation' hold up his head as high as his betters, wear gloves upon his deep-grained hands, and have his fingers studded with rings ; you shall see him either strutting up and down the streets, knocking his well-])()lished feet with a knowing cane, loiuiging at the college-gates or stalking through the courts, as if he were a ' Aarmint' character ; or you shall see him mounted upon the best horse to be met with at the livery-stables, with boots and spurs, whip, and all the paraphernalia of an ' eques ;'—og\\ug all the Avomen he meets with in his ride, or practising his seatahUily at a land-drain, or bush-faggot; and only to be told by his position, by the inclination of his legs (which, hke a pair of compasses, are generally stretched so as to form an angle of 90 degi-ees), by his holding by the saddle when the wind blows, for fear he should be unhorsed by the rude breath of Dan Boreas, fiom the master, whose horse he was formed to groom, rather than ride ; whose boots he was intended to clean, rather than wear. If they meet you they wont know you. If you want them to do an errand, they suit their own convenience. And this is Cambridge. But now especially, are all sorts of peo])le up in arms. The coaches are empty, and the drivers arc longing for the beginning of term. The boat-keepers on the river are almost starved : and their boats lie unused on the shore, except when some snob or other, cqualy as inexpert at the oar as the rein, takes a shilling's worth of aquatics, at the risk of being run crver by a Littleport barge, or drowned in one of the locks. The gun-makers are glad to let their ' arms' to these asses also, who proceed in their master's jackets, if they happen CAMBRIDGE PARTIES. 273 to find the way to their wardrobes ; poaching over all the manors in the neighbourhood, disturbing the game, and fri2:htenin1 The Cost of Fashion !)2 The Crab-Fish 2(«; The Exception 195 The Fox »H The first English Play produced by a Cantab, and first acted at Cambridge 144 The Great Calf V.B The Hyson Club !tl The Latin Gerunds !»5 The Maudlin Lover 54 The Mere Signs of the Beast . . *'3 The Metamorphosis (iU The Minor Poets 143 The .Mitre Ifiii The Nightcap (il The Petition 78 The President 79 The Post-Boy 97 The Prince of Wales r)-2 The Retort 115 The Retort Cutting 17» The Teeth-Power 5H The Tobacco-Stopper .94 The White Lion Iini The Wooden Wedge 141 Page The Three Asses 147 The Tripos Day ^9 There 1 Leave you 9.'* Three Private Tutors to One Pupil 140 They are Mine 1"7 Tillotson 97 Tit-Bits 210 Tit for Tat U!> Tom Randolph 114 Trophies 92 Trutli .111(1 Rhyme lf>4 Truth versus Politeness 1(J5 Tu es Porcus ICT Unconscious Vanity 17** Utopia — a .Satire in Imitation of a Mathematical Examina- tion-Paper 4(> Value of Nothing 194 Verbo Dignus iX< Very Easy to write like a Fool 81 Way of Using Books 91 Weakness of Parents 51 What a Debauch ! 215 White Teeth 102 Wiseacres 81 You'll get there before I can tell you 5(1 CAMBRIDGE PARTIES, BV TWO DISTINGUISHED CANTABS. Water Parties 227 Breakfast Parties 241 The Long Vacation 25.5 Trinity College, Cambridge, Forty Years ago 275 Leighton and Murphy, Johnson's Court, Fleet Street. rn.'/e Office Court, Fleet Street. WORKS RECENTLY PUBLISHED BY CHARLES MASON. The Eighth Kdition, price f!«. (id. cloth boards, or 10s. 6d. in embossed leather, with gilt edges, MAUNDER'S TREASURY OF KNOWLEDGE AND lliiirari} of Bcfcrcnte. This ^V'ork contains a Compreliensive English Dictionary, with a Grammar, Exercises, &c. ; a New Universal Ga- zetteer ; a Classical Dictionary ; a Chronological Analysis of General History ; a Compendious Law Dictionary ; Verbal distinctions, and various Tables of valuable infor- mation. The whole condensed with great care, and printed in Pearl Type, comprising 850 pages ; the jMargins of which are embellished witli upwards of 3,000 Select Maxims and Proverbial Ajihorisms ; forming altogether the most useful, unique, and perfect, as well as the cheapest book ever printed. 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