Having at length completed my establishment, which I selected according to the greater or lesser marks of roguery upon the countenances of the candidates, I took my dinner 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 shelf 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 occupations, for I confess that I was then a very great Bumpiologist, and I still think that Nature does sometimes write a very legible hand upon the phizmahogony of some people. As to the bumps, I know very little about them-though, at the same time, I would stake my existence, that I would pick out Hazlitt'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 Honors, I was to read six hours a-day-cut all gay acquaintances-never drink punch, and therefore to refuse all invitations to suppers -I was what?-I really cannot tell, for the gyp of my old friend Stamford made his appearance with a note from his master. Stamford had found my card in his door, and was but just returned. The style of this letter was then quite new to me, and I preserved it as a curiosity-Silly young man.Did you ever receive one in a different style while you were at Cambridge? Never-you might as well have taken bad English to a Yankee-a pig-tail to a Chinese-folly and dishonesty to a radical, or a mummy to an Egyptian, and then called them curiosities. I confess it-The epistle of my friend, however, ran thus:

DEAR MOBRAY,

See by your card you're come updevilish 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 struck 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 this was a broken day-I was tired, and could read nothing that nightand 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 endeavour to improve them in theory."

This was a fatal step. First impres sions are always lasting, as everybody 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 which 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 perriwigpated lecturer, from his chair of state, thunder out-"To be sure, gentlemen, as Ovid says, 'Rara est concordantia 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 notebooks. 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 simili gaudet;' and we have also a correspondent sentiment in our proverb, Birds of a feather flock together."" Most people will differ from me in this

sentiment, I dare say, but I shall not think it the worse on that account-I had it from my experience. The worst of those men who are sentenced to be hanged at the Old Bailey, are sure to have come of the most honest parents; and then you see there's John Cam, a radical-his father never taught him this he had no such example in his younger days. I know that Timothy Tickler will say that soft substances will receive any impressiou 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 allow, that "first impressions are always lasting," though, upon a second writing, the sentiment seems rather contradictory in itself.

The fascination of that night's amusement triumphed over the dull and disgusting 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 which affected ine 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 Alma 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 milkpunch which we get from the College

butler.

However, as Stamford's supper hour

is not yet arrived, I have time to shew that I was not an utter profligate—a naturally ill-disposed renegade, but that I had really some just cause for disliking and abandoning the 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 Greece and Rome, and perceive the destructive mania of the people for what they miscalled Liberty? Does he observe that the liberty of the subject was the sole cause of the ruin and destruction of these classical states, and that 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 established, both in Greece and Rome, but especially in the latter? Does it not occur to him, that though there was a Tarquin at Rome, there was a Codrus at Athens; and that the patriots of Athens and of Rome, if for one moment compared to the Codrus of the one, and the Numa Pompilius 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 God that he lives under 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 and με TE, &c. So well as to write down how many times, and in what passages of each classic author, they are to be found, is to him one of the splendid acquirements, because it would ensure a high place at the College or University examinations. As to classic history, his sole object is to get up pedigrees, and the dates of battles, births, marriages, accidents, and offences. That history is "philosophy 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 dullest reader, from these far-famed pages; which, however beautiful they may be, have something yet more interesting and important to recommend them to our notice; for they record the causes of the ruin of the States of Athens and of Rome, and prove to any man with a grain of comprehension, that republicanism was then, as it has since been, and as it ever will continue, the ultimate destruction of every nation which adopts so dangerousa form of government; and that the people, the liberty-loving populace, when the mastery is theirs, have always been found more arbitrary, and more cruelly unjust, than the veriest despots of the East. But he knows nothing of all this: He is continually told, (and 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 sure to remember that these were republics.

There is yet another class of reading men, who never look into a classical book-such are mathematicians, who refuse to believe anything that does not admit of a mathematical proof. They labour, perhaps, more than the classical humdrums above

mentioned, and these two divisions 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, graduated 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 aday, must, though he be ever so great a blockhead, inevitably take a better degree than a man who has twenty 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 reserve it till I come to the confession of my peccadilloes in a Cambridge examination. For the present I shall confine myself to the conclusion of my day of Initiation-I might have said, of Probation.

The sound of St Mary's bell aroused me from my meditations, and reminded me that the hour of nine was already past. I hastened to Stamford's rooms, and the appearance they exhibited was so singular, that I almost forgot to ask the owner how he was, and to return his salutations. Over the mantle-piece, was the ancient and ever-to-be-remembered picture of an incipient Bachelor of Arts, with the words-"Post tot naufragia tutus ;" at the foot of it. This was surmounted 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 usurped the place of bell-pulls on either side the fire-place.

VOL. XVI.

30

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 spacious 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.

I was not allowed to contemplate this novel sight without interruption. Stamford observed my astonishment, and clapping me on the shoulders, exelaimed, "What, symptoms of being fresh already, Peregrine? Pr'ythee, exchange your green coat for duffield, or everybody will perceive that you are but just up,† and down to nothing. You take no notice of your old friends, nor do you seem inclined to give me an opportunity of introducing 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 cireumstance which 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 milkpunch sent forth a delicious odour, which was rivalled by the fumes of two similar bowls of rum and brandy punch that graced the other end; while a vessel of "magnitude immense," containing bishop, in which nutmegs, cloves, and roasted lemons, were revelling together, occupied the middle of the table; for the purpose, as it seemed, of preventing the abovementioned beverages of the same spe

cies, but of different genera, from going to loggerheads. Biscuits, olives, pipes, and cigars, were also to be seen, not to mention whisky, 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 upon it with pleasure, and with my mouth watering. Everybody was agreeable-all (bating the songs) was harmony-all good fellowship, and amusement. Each man had his jokes, his songs, and his puns, and if the dæmon of Discord had joined the party in propria persona, I verily believe, that his influence would have been lost-his pestilential breath uncontaminating, and himself the only unpleasant person in the company.

The only rules and regulations which I thought at all likely to create disturbance, (but which, by the by, there was no occasion to enforce everybody understood and conformed to them,) were those of making each person sing in his turn, "whether he could or not ;" and of insisting 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 heeltaps. This certainly appeared to me very like compelling a man either 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 Liberty 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 washhand-basin upon the heads of such

persons, and tell them that I liked it, and that they ought not to grumble, because "Liberty" is "doing as one likes." The fact is, that this definition is merely an individual, a selfish one, and inadmissible, 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 unprejudicial to one's neighbour. There can be no objection to a 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 extremely unpleasant, if the flames were to spread to mine, and if my sum total of earthly possessions were to be sacrificed to his Nero-like penchant for bonfires. Moreover, I should as soon think of passing the taxes when the collector called, as I should of passing my glass at a drinking-bout. It is unreasonable to refuse contribu- ' ting your share towards defraying the expences of the government of the country, in which you have the privilege of residing; and it is, (as I, a sturdy stickler, think,) equally foolish to refuse 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 drink 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 suppose 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 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 indebted 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 custom at College to make such persons drink themselves into the acquaintance of senior and junior sophs.*

About three o'clock in the morning we separated. Stamford 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 character of our host induced us to risk spoiling our own gait, instead of using that of the College. The reputation of having parties to so late an hour is not altogether the way to keep on good terms with the "higher powers" (vulgò, Dons ;) nor is it over advisable, because, if one should happen to get into any serious scrape, previous good character, and regularity, would have as much influence with the ViceChancellor 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 particular 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 depredation upon a board, with "men traps set here" upon it, and fastened the same to the dwelling of two maiden ladies.