Chapter I: Now Leave You to Make as Much Noise as You Please (3)

"I have mee recommended unto you even from the bottome of my hearte, desyringe the Holye Ghoste may be amonge you untill the end of the worlde, and desyringe Almightie God, that everie one of you may love one another as brethren; and I shall desyre you all to applye to your learninge, and so doinge, God shall give you his blessinge bothe in this worlde and the worlde to come. And, furthermore, if anye variance or strife doe arise amonge you, I shall desyre you, for God's love, to pacifye it as much as you may; and that doinge, I put no doubt but God shall blesse everye one of you. And this shall be the last letter that ever I shall sende unto you; and therefore I shall desyre everye one of you, to take a copy of yt for my sake. No more to you at this tyme; but the Lord have you in his keeping until the end of the worlde. Written the 27th day of January, 1566. I desyre you all to pray to God for mee, that I may ende my life with patience, and that he may take mee to his mercye.

"By mee,
"SIR THOMAS WHITE,
"_Knighte, Alderman of London, and_
"_Founder of St. John's College, in Oxford_."

* * * * *

A POINT OF PRECEDENCE SETTLED.

A dispute once arose between the Doctors of Law and Medicine, in Cambridge, as to which had the right of precedence. "Does the _thief_ or _hangman_ take precedence at executions?" asked the Chancellor, on reference to his judgment. "The former," answered a wag. "Then let the Doctors of Law have precedence," said the Chancellor.

* * * * *

COMPLIMENTS TO THE LEARNED OF BOTH UNIVERSITIES.

"The names which learned men bear for any length of time," says Dr. Parr, "are generally well founded." _Dr. Chillingworth_, for his able and convincing writings in support of the Protestant Church, was styled

"MALLEUS PAPISTARUM."

_Dr. Sutherland_, the friend and literary associate of Dr. Mead, and others, obtained the _soubriquet_ of

"THE WALKING DICTIONARY."

John Duns, better known as the celebrated _Duns Scotus_, who was bred at Merton College, Oxford, and is said to have been buried alive, was called

DOCTOR SUBTILIS;

Another Mertonian, named Occam, his successor and opponent, was named

DOCTOR INVINCIBILIS;

A third was the famous Sir Henry Savile, who had the title of

PROFOUND

Bestowed upon him: and a fourth of the Society of Merton College, was the celebrated Reformer, John Wickliffe, who was called

DOCTOR EVANGELICUS.

Wood, says, that Dr. John Reynolds, President of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, died in 1607, "one of so prodigious a memory, that he might have been called

THE WALKING LIBRARY;"

To "see whom," he adds, "was to command virtue itself." If Duns Scotus was justly called "the most subtle doctor," says Parr, Roger Bacon,

"THE WONDERFUL,"

Bonaventure "the Seraphim," Aquinas the "Universal and Evangelical," surely Hooker has with equal, if not superior justice, obtained the name of

"THE JUDICIOUS."

Bishop Louth, in his preface to his English Grammar, has bestowed the highest praise upon the purity of Hooker's style. Bishop Warburton, in his book on the Alliance between Church and State, often quotes him, and calls him, "the excellent, the admirable, the best good man of our order."

* * * * *

JOHN LELAND,

Senior, says Wood, who in the reigns of Henry V. and VI. taught and read in Peckwaters Ynne, while it flourished with grammarians, "was one so well seen in verse and prose, and all sorts of humanity, that he went beyond the learnedest of his age, and was so noted a grammarian, that this verse was made upon him:--

'Ut rosa flos florum sic Leland grammaticorum;'

Which," he adds, "with some alteration, was fastened upon John Leland, junior, by Richard Croke, of Cambridge, at what time the said Leland became a Protestant, and thereupon," observes Wood (as if it were a necessary consequence,) "fell mad:"

'Ut rosa flos florum sic Leland flos fatuorum.'

Which being replied to by Leland (In Encom. Eruditorum in Anglia, &c. per Jo. Leland's edit. Lond. 1589,) was answered by a friend of Croke's in verse also. And here by the way I must let the reader know that it was the fashion of that age (temp. Hen. VIII.) to buffoon, or wit it after that fashion, not only by the younger sort of students, but by bishops and grave doctors. The learned Walter Haddon, Master of Trinity Hall, Cambridge, and afterwards President of Magdalen College, Oxford, in an epistle that he wrote to Dr. Cox, Almoner to Edward IV. (afterwards Bishop of Ely) "doth give him great commendations of his actions and employments, and further addeth (in his Lucubrations) that when he was at leisure to recreate his mind, he would, rather than be idle, 'Scevolæ et Lælii more--aut velitationem illam Croci cum Lelando perridiculam, vel reliquas Oxonienses nugas (ita enim profecto sunt,' saith he,) 'evolvere voluerit, &c.' Dr. Tresham, also, who was many years Commissary or Vice-Chancellor of the University, is said by (Humfredus in Vita Juelli) 'ludere in re seria, &c.'" When Queen Elizabeth was asked her opinion of the scholarship of the two great cotemporaries, the learned Buchanan and Dr. Walter Haddon, the latter accounted the best writer of Latin of his age, she dexterously avoided the imputation of partiality by replying: "_Buchannum omnibus antepono, Haddonum nemini postpono_."

* * * * *

LORD MOUNTJOY

Was the friend and cotemporary of Erasmus, at Queen's College, Cambridge, and was so highly esteemed by that great man, that he called him, "_Inter doctos nobilissimus, inter nobiles doctissimus, inter utrosque optimus_." His noble friend once entreated him to

ATTACK THE ERRORS OF LUTHER.

"My Lord," replied the sage, "nothing is more easy than to say Luther is mistaken: nothing more difficult than to prove him so."

VIR EGREGIE DOCTUS,

Was the _soubriquet_ conferred upon the celebrated Etonian, Cantab, Reformer, Provost of King's College, and Bishop of Hereford, Dr. Edward Fox, by the learned Bishop Godwin. Another Etonian and Cantab, Dr. Aldrich, Bishop of Carlisle, received from Erasmus, when young, the equally just and elegant compliment of

"BLANDÆ ELOQUENTIÆ JUVENEM."

* * * * *

A POINT OF ETIQUETTE.

Many humorous stories are told of the absurd height to which the observance of _etiquette_ has been carried at both Oxford and Cambridge. In my time, you might meet _a good fellow_ at a _wine party_, crack your joke with him, hob-nob, &c., but, unless introduced, you would have been stared at with the most vacant wonderment if you attempted to recognise him next day. It is told of men of both universities, that a scholar walking on the banks of the Isis, or Cam, fell into the river, and was in the act of drowning, when another son of _Alma-Mater_ came up, and observing his perilous situation, exclaimed, "What a pity it is I have not the honour of knowing the gentleman, that I might save him!" One version of the story runs, that the said scholars met by accident on the banks of the Nile or Ganges, I forget which, when the catastrophe took place; we may, therefore, very easily imagine the presence of either a crocodile or an alligator to complete the group.

Wood, in his Annals of Oxford, has the following anecdote of

THE VALUE OF A SYLLABLE.

"The masters of olden time at Athens, and afterwards at Oxford, were called _Sophi_, and the scholars _Sophistæ_; but the _masters_ taking it in scorn that the _scholars_ should have a larger name than they, called themselves _Philosophi_,--that is, lovers of science, and so got the advantage of the scholars by _one syllable_." Every body has heard of Foote's celebrated motto for a tailor friend of his, about to sport his coat of arms,---"_List, list, O list!_" But every body has not heard, probably, though it is noticed in his memoir, extant in Nichols's Literary Anecdotes, that the learned Cambridge divine and antiquary, Dr. _Cocks Macro_, having applied to a Cambridge acquaintance for an appropriate motto to his coat of arms, was pithily answered with

"COCKS MAY CROW."

Every Cantab remembers and regrets the early death of the accomplished scholar, Charles Skinner Matthews, M.A., late Fellow of Downing College, who was "the familiar" of the present Sir J. C. Hobhouse, and of the late Lord Byron. He was not more accomplished than facetious, nor, according to one of Lord Byron's letters, more facetious than "beloved." Speaking of his university _freaks_, his lordship says, "when Sir Henry Smith was expelled from Cambridge, for a row with a tradesman named "_Hiron_," Matthews solaced himself with shouting under Hiron's window every evening--

"Ah me! what perils do environ
The man who meddles with _hot Hiron_!"

He was also of that

BAND OF PROFANE SCOFFERS

who, under the auspices of ----, used to rouse Lord Mansel (late Bishop of Bristol) from his slumbers in the Lodge of Trinity (College;) and when he appeared at the window, foaming with wrath, and crying out, "I know you, gentlemen; I know you!" were wont to reply, "We beseech thee to hear us, good _Lort_!--Good _Lort_ deliver us!" (_Lort_ was his Christian name.) And his lordship might have added, the pun was the more poignant, as the Bishop was either a _Welshman_ himself, or had a Welsh sponsor, in the person of the late Greek Professor, Dr. _Lort_. Punning upon sacred subjects, however, is decidedly in bad taste; yet, in the reign of the Stuarts, neither king nor nobles were above it. Our illustrious Cantab, Bacon, writing to Prince, afterwards Charles the First, in the midst of his disastrous _poverty_, says, he hopes, "as the father was his _Creator_, the son will be his _Redeemer_." Yet this great man

DID NOT THE LESS REVERENCE RELIGION,

But said, towards the close of his chequered life, that "a little smattering in philosophy would lead a man to Atheism, but a thorough insight into it will lead a man back to a First Cause; and that the first principle of religion is right reason; and seriously professed, all his studies and inquisitions, he durst not die with any other thoughts than those religion taught, as it is professed among the Christians." These incidents remind me that

THE MEMORY OF JEMMY GORDON,

"Who, to save from rustication,
Crammed the dunce with declamation,"

Is now fast falling into _forgetfulness_, though there was a time when he was hailed by Granta's choicest spirits, as one who never failed to "set the table in a roar." Poor Jemmy! I shall never forget the manner in which he, by one of those straightforward, not-to-be-mistaken flashes of wit, silenced a brow-beating Radical Huntingdon attorney, at a Reform-meeting in Cambridge market-pace. Jemmy was a native of Cambridge, and was the son of a former chapel-clerk of Trinity College, who gave him an excellent classical education, and had him articled to an eminent solicitor, with fine talents and good prospects. But though Jemmy was "a cunning man with a hard head," such as his profession required, he had a soft heart,--fell in love with a pretty girl. That pretty girl, it is said, returned his passion, then proved faithless, and finally coquetted and ran off with a "_gay_ deceiver," a fellow-commoner of Trinity College,--optically dazzled, no doubt, with the purple robe and silver lace, for Jemmy was a fine, sensible-looking man. Poor Jemmy! he was too good for the faithless hussy; he took it to heart, as they say, and, unfortunately, took to drinking at the same time. He soon became too unsettled, both in mind and habits, to follow up his profession with advantage, and he became a _bon-vivant_, a professed wit, with a natural turn for facete, and the _cram-man_ of the more idle sons of Granta, who delighted in his society in those days when his wits were unclouded, nor did the more distinguished members of the university then disdain to hail him to their boards. For many years Jemmy lived to know and prove that "learning is most excellent;" and having a good classical turn, he lived by writing _Themes_ and _Declarations_ for non-reading Cantabs, for each of which Jemmy expected the physician's mite, and, like them, might be said to thrive by the _Guinea_ Trade. It is, no doubt, true, that some of his productions had college prizes awarded to them, and that, on one occasion, being recommended to apply for the medal, he indignantly answered, "It is no credit to be first in an ass-race!" Notwithstanding, Jemmy's in-goings never equalled his out-goings, and many a parley had Jemmy with his empty purse. It was no uncommon thing for him to pass his vacations in _quod_--_videlicet_ jail--for debts his creditors were well aware he could not pay; but they well knew also that his friends, the students, would be sure to _pay him out_ on their return to college. These circumstances give occasion for the publication of the now scarce caricatures of him, entitled, "Term-time," and "Non-term." In the first he is represented spouting to one of his _togaed_ customers, in the latter he appears cogitating in "durance vile." Besides these, numerous portraits of Jemmy have been put forth, for the correctness of most of which we, who have "held our sides at his fair words," can vouch. A full-length is extant in Hone's Every-Day Book, in the Gradus ad Catabrigiam is a second; and we doubt not but our friend Mason, of Church-Passage, Cambridge, could furnish a collector with several. Poor Jemmy! he has now been dead several years. His latter days were melancholy indeed. To the last, however, Jemmy continued to sport those distinctive marks of a man of _ton_, a _spying-glass_ and an _opera-hat_, which so well became him. Latterly he became troublesome to his best friends, not only levying contributions at will, but by saying _hard things_ to them, sparing neither heads of college, tutors, fellows, students, or others whose names were familiar to him. On one occasion, oblivious with too much devotion to _Sir John_, as was latterly his wont, his abuse caused him to be committed to the _tread-mill_--_sic transit_--and after his term of _exercise_ had expired, meeting a Cantab in the street whose beauty was even less remarkable than his wit, he addressed our recreant with, "Well, Jemmy, how do you like the tread-mill?" "I don't like your ---- ugly face," was the response. Jemmy's recorded witticisms were at one time as numberless as the stars, and in the mouth of every son of Granta, bachelor or big-wig; now some only are remembered. He one day met Sir John Mortlock in the streets of Granta, soon after he had been knighted; making a dead pause, and looking Sir John full in the face, Jemmy _improvised_--

"The king, by merely laying sword on,
Could make a knight of Jemmy Gordon."

At another time, petitioning a certain college dignitary for a few shillings to recover his clothes, pledged to appease his thirst, he said, on receiving the amount, "Now, I know that my redeemer liveth."

Jemmy, in his _glorious days_, had been a good deal patronised by the late Master of Trinity College, Bishop Mansel, like himself a wit of the first water. Jemmy one day called upon the bishop, during the time he filled the office of Vice-Chancellor, to beg half-a-crown. "I will give you as much," said the Bishop, "if you can bring me a greater rogue than yourself." Jemmy made his bow and departed, content with the condition, and had scarcely half crossed the great court of Trinity, when he espied the late Mr. B., then one of the Esquire Bedels of the University, scarcely less eccentric than himself. Jemmy coolly told him that the Vice-Chancellor wanted to see him. Into the Lodge went our Bedel, followed close by Jemmy. "Here he is," said Jemmy, as they entered the Bishop's presence, _arcades ambo_, at the same instant. "Who?" inquired the Bishop. "You told me, my Lord," said Jemmy, "to bring you a greater rogue than myself, and you would give me half-a-crown, and here he is." The Bishop enjoyed the joke, and gave him the money. A somewhat

SIMILAR STORY IS TOLD OF AN OXFORD WAG,

In Addison's Anecdotes, stating, that about the beginning of the eighteenth century, when it was more the fashion to drink ale at Oxford than at present, a humorous fellow of merry memory established an ale-house near the pound, and wrote over his door, "Ale sold by the pound!" As his ale was as good as his jokes, the Oxonians resorted to his house in great numbers, and sometimes stayed there beyond the college hours. This was made a matter of complaint to the Vice-Chancellor, who was desired to take away his license by one of the Proctors. Boniface was summoned to attend accordingly, and when he came into the Vice-Chancellor's presence, he began hawking and spitting about the room. This the Vice-Chancellor observed, and asked what he meant by it? "Please your worship," said he, "I came here on purpose to clear myself." The Vice-Chancellor imagining that he actually _weighed his ale_, said, "They tell me you sell ale by the pound; is that true?" "No, an' please your worship." "How do you, then?" "Very well, I thank you, sir," said the wag, "how do you do?" The Vice-Chancellor laughed and said, "Get away for a rogue; I'll say no more to you." The fellow went out, but in crossing the _quod_ met the proctor who had laid the information against him. "Sir," said he, addressing the Proctor, "the Vice-Chancellor wants to speak with you," and they went to the Vice-Chancellor's together. "Here he is, sir," said Boniface, as they entered the presence. "Who?" inquired the Vice. "Why, sir," he rejoined, "you sent me for a rogue, and I have brought you the greatest that I know of." The result was, says the author of _Terræ-Filius_ (who gives a somewhat different version of the anecdote,) that Boniface paid dear for his _jokes_: being not only deprived of his license, but committed to prison.

* * * * *

CAMBRIDGE FROLICS.

I recollect once being invited, with another Cantab, to _bitch_ (as they say) with a scholar of Bene't Coll. and arrived there at the hour named to find the door _sported_ and our host out. We resolved, however, not to be _floored_ by a _quiz_, and having gained admission to his rooms per the window, we put a bold face upon matters, went straight to the buttery, and ordered "_coffee and muffins for two_," in his name. They came of course; and having feasted to our heart's content, we finished our revenge by hunting up all the _tallow_ we could lay hands on, which we cut up to increase the number, and therewith illuminated his rooms and beat a retreat as quick as possible. The College was soon in an uproar to learn the cause for such a display, and we had the pleasure of witnessing our _wag's_ chagrin thereat from a nook in the court. This anecdote reminds me of one told of himself and the late learned physician, Dr. Battie, by Dr. Morell. They were contemporary at Eton, and afterwards went to King's College, Cambridge, together. Dr. Battie's mother was his _jackall_ wherever he went, and, says Dr. Morell, she kindly recommended me and other scholars to a chandler at 4_s._ 6_d._ per dozen. But the candles proved dear even at that rate, and we resolved to vent our disappointment upon her son. We, accordingly, got access to Battie's room, locked him out, and all the candles we could find in his box we lighted and stuck up round the room! and, whilst I thrummed on the spinnet, the rest danced round me in their shirts. Upon Battie's coming, and finding what we were at, he "fell to storming and swearing," says the Doctor, "till the old Vice-Provost, Dr. Willymott, called out from above, 'Who is

SWEARING LIKE A COMMON SOLDIER?'

'It is I,' quoth Battle. 'Visit me,' quoth the Vice-Provost. Which, indeed, we were all obliged to do the next morning, with a distich, according to custom. Mine naturally turned upon, 'So fiddled Orpheus, and so danced the _brutes_;' which having explained to the Vice-Provost, he punished me and Sleech with a few lines from the _Epsilon_ of Homer, and Battie with the whole third book of Milton, to get, as we say, by heart." Another College scene, in which Battie played a part, when a scholar at King's, is the following:--

CASE OF BLACK RASH,

Given on the authority of his old college _chum_, Ralph Thicknesse, who, like himself, became a Fellow. There was then at King's College, says Ralph, a very good-tempered six-feet-high Parson, of the name of Harry Lofft, who was one of the College chanters, and the constant _butt_ of all both at commons and in the _parlour_. Harry, says Ralph, dreaded so much the sight of a gun or a pair of pistols, that such of his friends as did not desire too much of his company kept _fire-arms_ to keep him at _arm's length_. Ralph was encouraged, by some of the Fellows, he says (_juniors_ of course,) to make a serious joke out of Harry's foible, and one day discharged a gun, loaded with powder, at our six-feet-high Parson, as he was striding his way to prayers. The powder was coarse and damp and did not all burn, so that a portion of it lodged in Harry's face. The fright and a little inflammation put the poor chanter to bed, says Ralph. But he was not the only frightened party, for we were all much alarmed lest the _report_ should reach the Vice-Chancellor's ears, and the good-tempered Hal was prevailed with to be _only ill_. Battie and another, who were _not_ of the _shooting party_ (the only two fellow-students in physic,) were called to Hal's assistance. They were _not_ told the real state of the case, and finding his pulse high, his spirits low, and his face inflamed and sprinkled with red spots, after a serious consultation they _prescribed_. On retiring from the sick man's room, they were forthwith examined on the state of the case by the impatient plotters of the wicked deed, to whose amusement both the disciples of Galen pronounced Hal's case to be the _black rash_! This, adds Ralph, was a never-to-be-forgotten _roast_ for Battie and Banks in Cambridge; and if we may add to this, that Battie, in after life, sent his wife to Bath for a _dropsy_, where she was shortly _tapped_ of a fine boy, it may give us a little insight into the _practice of physic_, and induce us to say with the poet--

"Better to search in fields for wealth unbought,
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught."

The same Ralph relates a humorous anecdote of

THE FATE OF THE DOCTOR'S OLD GRIZZLE WIG.

The Doctor, says Ralph, was as good a punch as he was a physician, and after he settled at Uxbridge, in the latter character, where he first opened his _medical budget_, with the proceeds of his Fellowship at King's College alone to depend on, Ralph took advantage of a stay in London to ride over to see his old college chum and fellow-punster, and reached his _domus_ in the Doctor's absence. Ralph's wig was the worse for a shower of rain he had rode through, and, taking it off, desired the Doctor's man, William, to bring him his master's _old grizzle_ to put on, whilst he dried and put a dust of powder into his. But ere this could be accomplished, the Doctor returned, as fine as may be, in his _best tye_, kept especially for visiting his patients in. As soon as mutual greetings had passed, "Why, zounds, Ralph," exclaimed the Doctor, "what a cursed wig you have got on!" "True," said Ralph, taking it off as he spoke, "it is a bad one, and if you will, as I have another with me, I will toss it into the fire." "By all means," said the Doctor, "for, in truth, it is a very _caxon_," and into the _fire_ went the fry. The Doctor now began to skin his legs, and calling his man, William, "Here," said he, taking off his tye, "bring me my old wig." "Mr. Thicknesse has got it," said William. "And where is it, Ralph," said the Doctor, turning upon his visiter. "_Burnt_, as you desired; and this illustrates the spirit of all mankind," said Ralph; "we can see the shabby wig, and feel the pitiful tricks of our friends, overlooking the disorder of our own wardrobes. As Horace says, 'Nil habeo quod agam;'--'mind every body's business but your own.'" Talking of _gunpowder_ reminds me of

TWO OTHER SHOOTING ANECDOTES.

All who know anything of either Oxford or Cambridge scholars, know well enough, that their _manners_ are not only _well preserved_ at all seasons, but that when they are in a humour for sporting, it is of very little consequence whether other folk preserve their manners or not. When the late eccentric Joshua Waterhouse, B.D. (who was so barbarously murdered a few years since by Joshua Slade, in Huntingdonshire,) was a student of Catherine Hall, Cambridge, of which he became a Fellow, he was a remarkably strong young man, some six feet high, and not easily frightened. He one day went out to shoot with another man of his college, and his favourite dog, Sancho, had just made his first point, when a keeper came up and told Joshua to take himself off, in no very classic English. Joshua therefore declined compliance. Upon this our keeper began to threaten. Joshua thereupon laid his gun aside, and coolly began taking off his coat (or, as the fancy would say, to _peel_,) observing, "I came out for a day's sport, and a day's sport I'll have." Upon which our keeper shot off, leaving Joshua in possession of the field, from which he used to boast he carried off a full bag. At another time

A PARTY OF OXONIANS,

Gamesomely inclined, were driving, _tandem_, for the neighbourhood of Woodstock, when passing a stingy old _cur_, yclept a country gentleman, who had treated some one of the party a _shabby_ trick, a thought struck them that now was the hour for revenge. They drove in _bang up_ style to the front of the old man's mansion, and coolly told the servant, that they had just seen his master, who had desired them to say, that he was to serve them up a good dinner and wine, and in the meantime show them where the most game was to be found. This was done, and after a _roaring_ day's sport, and a full gorge of roast, baked and boiled, washed down with the best ale, port and sherry, the old boy's cellar could furnish, they made Brazen-nose College, Oxon, 8, P.M., much delighted with the result, and luckily the affair went no further, at the time at least.

* * * * *

BISHOP WATSON'S OWN ACCOUNT OF HIS PROGRESS AT CAMBRIDGE.

"Soon after the death of my father," says this learned prelate, in his Autobiography, published in 1816, "I was sent to the university, and admitted a sizer of Trinity College, Cambridge, on the 3d of November, 1754. I did not know a single person in the university, except my tutor, Mr. Backhouse, who had been my father's scholar, and Mr. Preston, who had been my own school-fellow. I commenced my academic studies with great eagerness, from knowing that my future fortune was to be wholly of my own fabricating, being certain that the slender portion which my father had left to me (300_l._) would be barely sufficient to carry me through my education. I had no expectations from relations; indeed I had not a relative so near as a first cousin in the world, except my mother, and a brother and sister, who were many years older than me. My mother's maiden name was Newton; she was a very charitable and good woman, and I am indebted to her (I mention it with filial piety) for imbuing my young mind with principles of religion, which have never forsaken me. Erasmus, in his little treatise, entitled _Antibarbarorum_, says, that the safety of states depend upon three things, _a proper or improper education of the prince, upon public preachers, and upon school-masters_; and he might with equal reason have added, _upon mothers_; for the code of the mother precedes that of the school-master, and may stamp upon the _rasa tabula_ of the infant mind, characters of virtue and religion which no time can efface. Perceiving that the sizers were not so respectfully looked upon by the pensioners and scholars of the house as they ought to have been, inasmuch as the most learned and leading men of the university have even arisen from that order (_Magister Artis ingenique largitor venter_,) I offered myself for a scholarship a year before the usual time of the sizers sitting, and succeeded on the 2nd of May, 1757. This step increased my expenses in college, but it was attended with a great advantage. It was the occasion of my being particularly noticed by _Dr. Smith_, the master of the college. He was, from the examination he gave me, so well satisfied with the progress I had made in my studies, that out of the sixteen who were elected scholars, he appointed me to a particular one (Lady Jermyn's) then vacant, and in his own disposal; not, he said to me, as being better than other scholarships, but as a mark of his approbation; he recommended _Saunderson's Fluxions_, then just published, and some other mathematical books, to my perusal, and gave, in a word, a spur to my industry, and wings to my ambition. I had, at the time of my being elected a scholar, been resident in college two years and seven months, without having gone out of it for a single day. During that period I had acquired some knowledge of Hebrew, greatly improved myself in Greek and Latin, made considerable progress in mathematics and natural philosophy, and studied with much attention Locke's works, King's book on the Origin of Evil, Puffendorf's Treatise _De Officio Hominis et Civis_, and some other books on similar subjects; I thought myself, therefore, entitled to some little relaxation. Under this persuasion I set forward, May 30, 1757, to pay my elder and only brother a visit at Kendal. He was the first curate of the New Chapel there, to the structure of which he had subscribed liberally. He was a man of lively parts, but being thrown into a situation where there was no great room for the display of his talents, and much temptation to convivial festivity, he spent his fortune, injured his constitution, and died when I was about the age of thirty-three, leaving a considerable debt, all of which I paid immediately, though it took almost my all to do it. My mind did not much relish the country, at least it did not relish the life I led in that country town; the constant reflection that I was _idling away my time_ mixed itself with every amusement, and poisoned all the pleasures I had promised myself from the visit; I therefore took a hasty resolution of shortening it, and returned to college in the beginning of September, with a determined purpose to make my _Alma Mater_ the mother of my fortunes. _That_, I well remember, was the expression I used to myself, as soon as I saw the turrets of King's College Chapel, as I was jogging on a jaded nag between Huntingdon and Cambridge. I was then only a _Junior Soph_; yet two of my acquaintances, the year below me, thought that I knew so much more of mathematics than they did, that they importuned me to become their private tutor. I undoubtedly wished to have had my time to myself, especially till I had taken my degree; but the narrowness of my circumstances, accompanied with a disposition to improve, or, more properly speaking, with a desire to appear respectable, induced me to comply with their request. From that period, for above thirty years of my life, and as long as my health lasted, a considerable portion of my time was spent in instructing others without much instructing myself, or in presiding at disputations in philosophy or theology, from which, after a certain time, I derived little intellectual improvement. Whilst I was an under-graduate, I kept a great deal _of what is called_ the best company--that is, of idle fellow-commoners, and other persons of fortune--but their manners never subdued my prudence; I had strong ambition to be distinguished, and was sensible that wealth might plead some excuse for idleness, extravagance and folly in others; the want of wealth could plead more for me. When I used to be returning to my room at one or two in the morning, after spending a jolly evening, I often observed a light in the chamber of one of the same standing with myself; this never failed to excite my jealousy, and the next day was always a day of hard study. I have gone without my dinner a hundred times on such occasions. I thought I never entirely understood a proposition in any part of mathematics or natural philosophy, till I was able, in a solitary walk, _obstipo capite atque ex porrecto labello_, to draw the scheme in my head, and go through every step of the demonstration without book, or pen and paper. I found this was a very difficult task, especially in some of the perplexed schemes and long demonstrations of the twelfth Book of _Euclid_, and in _L'Hôpital's_ Conic Sections, and in _Newton's_ Principia. My walks for this purpose were so frequent, that my tutor, not knowing what I was about, once reproved me for being a lounger. I never gave up a difficult point in a demonstration till I had made it out _proprio marte_; I have been stopped at a single step for three days. This perseverance in accomplishing whatever I undertook, was, during the whole of my active life, a striking feature in my character. But though I stuck close to abstract studies, I did not neglect other things; I every week imposed upon myself a task of composing a theme or declamation in Latin or English. I generally studied mathematics in the morning, and classics in the afternoon; and used to get by heart such parts of orations, either in Latin or Greek, as particularly pleased me. Demosthenes was the orator, Tacitus the historian, and Persius the satirist whom I most admired. I have mentioned this mode of study, not as thinking there was any thing extraordinary in it, since there were many under-graduates then, and have always been many in the University of Cambridge, and, for aught I know, in Oxford, too, who have taken greater pains. But I mention it because I feel a complacence in the recollections of days long since happily spent, _hoc est vivere bis vita posse priori frui_, and indulge in a hope, that the perusal of what I have written may chance to drive away the spirit of indolence and dissipation from young men; especially from those who enter the world with slender means, as I did. In January, 1759, I took my Bachelor of Arts' degree. The taking of this first degree is a great era in academic life; it is that to which all the under-graduates of talent and diligence direct their attention. There is no seminary of learning in Europe in which youth are more zealous to excel during the first years of their education than in the University of Cambridge. I was the second wrangler of my year. In September, 1759, I sat for a Fellowship. At that time there never had been an instance of a Fellow being elected from among the junior Bachelors. The Master told me this as an apology for my not being elected, and bade me be contented till the next year. On the 1st of October, 1760, I was elected a Fellow of Trinity College, and put over the head of two of my seniors of the same year, who were, however, elected the next year. The old Master, whose memory I have ever revered, when he had done examining me, paid me this compliment, which was from him a great one:--'You have done your duty to the College; it remains for the College to do theirs to you.' I was elected the next day, and became assistant tutor to Mr. Backhouse in the following November." Every body knows his subsequent career embraced his appointment to the several dignified University offices of Tutor, Moderator, Professor of Chemistry, and Regius Professor of Divinity, and that he died Bishop of Llandaff. I may here, as an apposite tail piece, add from Meadley's Life of that celebrated scholar and divine,

PALEY'S SKETCH OF HIS EARLY ACADEMICAL LIFE.

In the year 1795, during one of his visits to Cambridge, Dr. Paley, 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 peculiar frankness with which he was in the habit of relating adventures of his youth. "I spent the two first years of my under-graduateship (said he) happily, but unprofitably. I was constantly in society where we were not immoral, but idle and rather expensive. At the commencement of my third year, however, 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 bedside and said, 'Paley, I 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 can do every thing, and cannot afford it. I have had no sleep during the whole night on account of these reflections, and am now come solemnly to inform you, that, if you persist in your indolence, I must renounce your society.' I was so struck (continued Paley) with the visit and the visiter, that I lay in bed great part of the day and formed my plan: I ordered my bed-maker to prepare my fire every evening, in order that it might be lighted by myself; I rose at five, read during the whole of the day, except such hours as chapel and hall required, allotting each portion of time its peculiar branch of study; and, just before the closing of gates (nine o'clock) I went to a neighbouring coffee-house, where I constantly regaled upon a mutton-chop and a dose of milk punch: and thus on taking my bachelor's degree, I became _senior wrangler_." He, too, filled the trustworthy and dignified office of Tutor of his College, and deserved, though he did not die in possession of, a bishopric.

* * * * *

THE LOUNGER. BY AN OXONIAN.

I rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten,
Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen;
Read a play till eleven, or cock my laced hat;
Then step to my neighbours, till dinner, to chat.
Dinner over, to _Tom's_, or to _James's_ I go,
The news of the town so impatient to know,
While _Law_, _Locke_ and _Newton_, and all the rum race,
That talk of their nodes, their ellipses, and space,
The seat of the soul, and new systems on high,
In holes, as abstruse as their mysteries, lie.
From the coffee-house then I to Tennis away,
And at five I post back to my College to pray:
I sup before eight, and secure from all duns,
Undauntedly march to the _Mitre_ or _Tuns_;
Where in punch or good claret my sorrows I drown,
And toss off a bowl "To the best in the town:"
At one in the morning I call what's to pay,
Then home to my College I stagger away;
Thus I tope all the night, as I trifle all day.

* * * * *

AN OXFORD HOAX AND A PURITAN DETECTED.

A certain Oxford D.D. at the head of a college, lately expected a party of maiden ladies, his sisters and others, to visit him from the country. They were strangers in Oxford, therefore, like another Bayard, he was anxious to meet them on their arrival and _gallant_ them to his College. This, however, was to him, so little accustomed _to do the polite to the ladies_, an absolute event, and it naturally formed his _prime_ topic of conversation for a month previously. This provoked some of the Fellows of his College to _put a hoax upon him_, the most forward in which was one Mr. H----, a _puritan_ forsooth. Accordingly, a note was concocted and sent to the Doctor, in the name of the ladies, announcing, that they _had arrived at_ THE _Inn in Oxford_. "The Inn!" exclaimed the Doctor, on perusing it; "Good God! how am I to know _the_ Inn?" However, after due preparation, off he set, in full canonicals, hunting for his belles and _the_ Inn! The Star, Mitre, Angel, all were searched; at last, the Doctor, both tired and irritated, began to smell a rat! The idea of a hoax flashed upon his mind; he hurried to his lodgings, at his College, where the whole truth flashed upon him like a _new light_, and the window of his room being open, which overlooked the Fellows' garden, he saw a group of them rubbing their hands in high glee, and the ringleader, Mr. H----, in the midst: he was so roused at the sight, that, leaning from the window, he burst out with--"H----! you puritanical son of a bitch!" It is needless to add, that the words, acting like a charm, quickly dissolved their council: but the Doctor, too amiable to remember what was not meant as an affront, himself afterwards both joined in and enjoyed the laugh created by the joke.

* * * * *

MORE THAN ONE GOOD SAYING

Is attributed to the non-juring divine, celebrated son of Oxon, and excellent English historian, Thomas Carte, who, falling under the suspicions of the Government, as a favourer of the Pretender, was imprisoned at the time the Habeas Corpus Act was suspended, in 1744. Whilst under examination by the Privy Council, the celebrated Duke of Newcastle, then minister, asked him, "If he were not a bishop?" "No, my Lord Duke," replied Carte, "there are no bishops in England, but what are made by your Grace; and I am sure I have no reason to expect that honour." Walking, soon after he was liberated, in the streets of London, during a heavy shower of _rain_, he was plied with, "A coach, your reverence?" "No, honest friend," was his answer, "this is not a _reign_ for me to ride in."

* * * * *

HORACE WALPOLE A SAINT.

Cole says, in his _Athenæ Cant._, that Horace Walpole latterly lived and died a Sceptic; but when a student at King's College, Cambridge, he was of "a religious enthusiastic turn of mind, and used to go with Ashton (the late Dr., Master of Jesus College,) his then great friend, to pray with the prisoners in the castle." Dyer gives the following poetical version of

A CAMBRIDGE CONUNDRUM,

In his Supplement, on Doctors _Long_, _Short_, and _Askew_:--

or
ct
What's Doctor, and Dr., and Do writ so?
Doctor Long, Doctor Short, and Doctor _Askew_.

* * * * *

A BISHOP'S INTEREST.

Bishop Porteus said of himself, when holding the See of Chester, that he "had not interest enough to command a Cheshire cheese."

* * * * *

OXFORD FAMOUS FOR ITS SOPHISTS.

"For sophistry, such as you may call corrupt and vain," says Wood, in the first volume of his Annals, "which we had derived from the Parisians, Oxford hath in ancient time been very famous, especially when many thousands of students were in her, equalling, if not exceeding, that university from whence they had it; a token of which, with its evil consequences, did lately remain,--I mean the quadragesimall exercises, which were seldom performed, or at least _finished without the help of Mars_. In the reign of Henry the Third, and before, the schools were much polluted with it, and became so notorious, that it corrupted other arts; and so would it afterwards have continued, had it not been corrected by public authority for the present, though in following times it increased much again, that it could not be rooted out. Some there were that wrote, others that preached against it, demonstrating the evil consequences thereof, and the sad end of those that delighted in it. Jacobus Januensis reports that one Mr. Silo, a Master of the University of Paris, and Professor of Logic, had a scholar there, with whom he was very familiar: and being excellent in the art of sophistry, spared not all occasions, whether festival or other day, to study it. This sophister being sick, and almost brought to death's door, Master Silo earnestly desired him, that after his death he would return to him and give him information concerning his state, and how it fared with him. The sophister dying, returned according to promise, with his hood stuffed with notes of sophistry, and the inside lined with flaming fire, telling him, that that was the reward which he had bestowed upon him for the renown he had before for sophistry; but Mr. Silo esteeming it a small punishment, stretched out his hand towards him, on which a drop or spark of the said fire falling, was very soon pierced through with terrible pain; which accident the defunct or ghost beholding, told Silo, that he need not wonder at that small matter, for he was burning in that manner all over. Is it so? (saith Silo) well, well, I know what I have to do. Whereupon, resolving to leave the world, and enter himself into religion, called his scholars about him, took his leave of, and dismissed them with these metres:--

'Linquo coax[3] ranis, cras[4] corvis, vanaque[5] vanis,
Ad Logicam pergo, que mortis non timet[6] ergo.'

Which said story coming to the knowledge of certain Oxonians, about the year 1173 (as an obscure note which I have seen tells me,) it fell out, that as one of them was answering for his degree in his school, which he had hired, the opponent dealt so maliciously with him, that he stood up and spake before the auditory thus: 'Profectò, profectò, &c.' 'Truly, truly, sir sophister, if you proceed thus, I protest before this assembly I will not answer; pray, sir, remember Mr. Silo's scholar at Paris,'--intimating thereby, that if he did not cease from vain babblings, purgatory, or a greater punishment, should be his end. Had such examples been often tendered to them (adds Wood, with real bowels of compassion,) as they were to the Parisians, especially that which happened to one Simon Churney, or Thurney, or Tourney (Fuller says, Thurway, a Cornish man,) an English Theologist there (who was suddenly struck dumb, because he vainly gloried that he, in his disputations, could be equally for or against the Divine truth,) it might have worked more on their affections; but this being a single relation, it could not long be wondered at." After these _logical marvels_, Anthony gives us the following instance of

[3] Luxuriam scil. luxuriosis, vel potius rixas sophistis.

[4] Avaritiam scil. avaris.

[5] Superbiam pomposis.

[6] Religionem ubi bene viventi non timetur stimulus mortis.

A VICE-CHANCELLOR'S BEING LACONIC.

"Dr. Prideaux, when he resigned the office of Vice-Chancellor, 22nd July, 1626 (which is never done without an oration spoken from the chair in the convocation, containing for the most part an account of the acts done in the time of their magistrateship,) spoke only the aforesaid metres, 'Linquo coax,' &c., supposing there was more matter in them than the best speech he could make, frustrating thereby the great hopes of the Academicians of an eloquent oration."

"Oxford hath been so famous for sophistry, and hath used such a particular way in the reading and learning it," adds Wood, in treating of the schools, "that it hath often been styled--

'SOPHISTRIA SECUNDUM USUM OXON.'

So famous, also, for subtlety of logicians, that no place hath excelled it." This great subtlety, however, would seem, in a degree, to have departed from our sister of Oxford in 1532, when, they say,

TWO PERT OXONIANS

Took a journey to Cambridge, and challenged any to dispute with them there, in the public schools, on the two following questions:--"_An jus Civile sit Medicina præstantius?_" In English as much as to say, _Which does most execution, Civil Law or Medicine?_--a nice point, truly. But the other formed the subject of serious argumentation, and ran thus:--"_An mulier condemnata, bis ruptis loqueis, sit tertio suspendenda?_" Ridley, the Bishop and martyr, then a young man, student or Fellow of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, is said to have been one of the opponents on this interesting occasion, and administered the _flagellæ linguæ_ with such happy effect to one of these pert pretenders to logic lore, that the other durst not set his wit upon him. The Oxford sophistry had so much

CORRUPTED THE LATIN TONGUE

There, says Wood, that the purity thereof being lost among the scholars, "their speaking became barbarous, and derived so constantly to their successors, that barbarous speaking of Latin was commonly styled by many

'Oxoniensis loquenti mos.'

The Latin of the schools, in the present day, is none of the purest at either University. A certain Cambridge Divine, a Professor, who was a senior wrangler, and is justly celebrated for his learning and great ability, one day presiding at an act in Arts, upon a dog straying into the school, and putting in for a share of the logic with a howl at the audience, the Moderator exclaimed, "_Verte canem ex_." There have, however, been fine displays of pure Latinity in the schools of both; and it appears

THE OXONIANS SURPASSED ARISTOTLE

At a very early period, not only in the art of logic itself, but in their manner of applying it: for in the beginning of 1517, says Wood, about the latter end of Lent (a fatal time for the most part to the Oxonians,) a sore discord fell out between the Cistercian and Benedictine monks, concerning several philosophical points discussed by them in the schools. But their arguments being at length flung aside, they decided the controversy by blows, which, with sore scandal, continued a considerable time. At length the Benedictines rallying up what forces they could procure, they beset the Cistercians, and by force of arms made them fly and betake themselves to their hostels. In fact, he says, by the use of logic, and the trivial arts, the Oxford sophists, in the time of Lent, broke the king's peace, so that the University privileges were several times suspended, and in danger of being lessened or taken away. Through the corrupt use of it, "the Parva Logicalia, and other minute matters of Aristotle, many things of that noble author have been so changed from their original, by the screwing in and adding many impertinent things, that Tho. Nashe (in his book, 'Have at you to Saffron Walden,') hath verily thought, that if Aristotle had risen out of his grave, and disputed with the sophisters, they would not only have baffled him with their sophistry, but with his own logic, which they had disguised, and he composed without any impurity or corruption. It may well be said, that in this day they have done no more than what Tom Nashe's beloved Dick Harvey did afterwards at Cambridge, that is to say,

HE SET ARISTOTLE WITH HIS HEELS UPWARDS ON THE SCHOOL GATES,

With ass's ears on his head,--a thing that Tom would 'in perpetuam rei memoriam,' record and never have done with. Wilson, in his _Memorabilia Cantabrigiæ_, says of this said Tom Nash, that he was educated at St. John's College, Cambridge, where he resided seven years, was at the fatal repast of the pickled herrings with the poet Green, and, in 1597, was either confined or otherwise troubled for a comedy on _the Isle of Dogs_ (extant in the MSS. of Oldys,) though he wrote but the first act, and the players without his knowledge supplied the rest. He was a man of humour, a bitter satirist, and no contemptible poet; and more effectually discouraged and non-plused the notorious anti-prelate and astrologer, Will Harvey, and his adherents, than all the serious writers that attacked them. There is a good character of him, says Oldys, in _The return from Parnassus, or Scourge of Simony_, which was publicly acted by the students of St. John's, in 1606, wherein

THEY FIRST EXEMPLIFIED THE ART OF CUTTING,

An elegant term, that is in equal request at the sister university, as well as amongst the coxcombs of the day, adds Wilson, though the members of St. John's are celebrated for the _origin_ of the term "_to cut_,"--_i. e._ "to look an old friend in the face, and affect not to know him," which is the _cut direct_. Those who would be more deeply read in this art, which has been greatly improved since the days in which it originated, will find it at large in the _Gradus ad Cantabrigiam_.

* * * * *

CROMWELL'S SOLDIERS AT A DISPUTATION AT OXFORD.