accosts him, "Pray, Mr. Varmint, why have you | new. He thought of every thing; but at last resolved not been to chapel lately? I have very seriously to to spend his time in learning the three hundred lines complain of your non-attendance. You have not of Greek, and the five hundred lines of Virgil, for the attended for nearly a fortnight, excepting Sundays, proctor and Mr. Dean. In the mean time the term and you cannot expect that I, or any man, in the divides; and his companions, or the majority of capacity I hold, can overlook such gross irregularity. them, leave the University for their several homes. However, you may think what you like, but I am He, of course, wishes to leave likewise; but he is ill, determined to do my duty towards the college, and to and cannot depart before he is better, which the sursee that you attend regularly. But as that has by nogeen does not choose should be the case for some means been the case, and as you have so disrespect. time; and even if he were well, he could not go befully absented yourself, I really must take notice of it fore the dean signed his "ereat," which he would not in a severe way. I am very sorry for it, nobody more do before the imposition was said; so he is hemmed so, but it is an imperative duty I must fulfil. You in on all sides, and has the blue devils, besides a will get by heart 500 lines of Virgil, the 7th neid, prospect of growing hippish. He, therefore, spends and I expect it will be said with alacrity and promp- the time he would have passed in pleasure at home, tale. Good morning, sir." So here is Mr. Varmint in the shady court of a college, and stuffs himself wah two impositions in hand which must be very with Greek and Latin hexameters, and lives entirely son in head: one, if not said, will beget rustication; on barley-water and medicine, for the space of three the other, if neglected, will cause the dean to tell weeks. At the end of this time, we will suppose him to take his name off the boards of the college. getting again convalescent, and recovering his wonted fe debates in his own mind as to whether it is better spirits. He satisfies the proctor and the dean by "get them or not; but at length determines to see saying a part of each impos., and after bitterly cursroctors, deans, and in short the whole University at ing the place, leaves it for the country. This is the Old Nick, rather than look at a word; and way that many men spend their three years at the University. But, Mr. Freshman, whoever you may be, I write this for your especial benefit, and leave it to yourself to copy or avoid such conduct, as you may think proper.

"to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them." Alas! how soon do mortals change their firmest most fixed resolutions! How many circumLaces occur to induce them to act contrary to their After the long vacation, Mr. Varmint comes up tolves. Mr. Varmint, by drinking too much wine again to reside. His sprees of his first year, and the last two days, rather prematurely finds him- their consequences, have gained him experience, and I very much the worse from his late Cyprian ad- he knows how to manage in a scientific way. To ptures, and in fact is compelled to send for a sur-avoid gate-bills, he will be out at night as late as he In short, Varmint is obliged to get an ægrotat, pleases, and will defy any one to discover his abane himself to his rooms, and lie still on the sence; for he will climb over the college walls, and On his table are draughts, powders, and lo-fee his gyp well, when he is out all night. To avoid the surgeon visits him daily. What is he to impositions from the dean, he will attend more reguall day by himself on the sofa? His friends are larly at chapel; which, though a great bore, must yet him a great deal to drive away melancholy; but be endured and to get clear from the clutches of the I he has an immensity of leisure time on his hands. proctors, he will scud when there is need; and if folmust read; but what? Walter Scott? No, he lowed, will floor the bull-dogs, and bolt. He now is els, and all that kind of trash. Lord Byron? twice as gay as before, rides, courses, hunts, shoots, bas read ham fifty times, and he wants something fishes, drives, drinks, fights, swears, rows, and gam

habiliments, he hops into bed, and snores-somno rustication or expulsion. Thus dismissed the angust vinoque gravatus, till about six in the evening, and presence, he recounts this jobation to his friends, and then gets up more sleepy than ever. He dresses; but enters into a discourse on masters, deans, tutors, and having no appetite, eats nothing, drinks a glass of proctors, and votes chapel a bore, and gates a com soda-water, and walks to a friend's rooms, where he plete nuisance. But is this all? no. He has resolved relates his adventures and excites the risibility of his to treat the dons with contempt, and go on more gaily auditors. He then resolves on a ride, and without than ever. Accordingly he cuts chapel, and issues togging for the occasion, just puts on his tile and forth at night sine cap and gown, with a segar in has mounts his prad. Determining to be very steady and mouth. He is determined to have a lark with two u sober for the future, i. e. for the next twelve hours, three more, and away they go. While they are pullhe urges his steed along the Trumpington Road, goes ing the girls about in the street, up comes the pro out by the Shelford Common, and returns home be- tor: " Pray, sir, may I ask if you are a menbe: tween eight and nine. He then feels as if he could the University ?"" Yes, sir, I am."-" Your ad eat something, and accordingly he does, by way of and college, sir, if you please." It is given withou supper, and retires to his rooms, with an intention of the least hesitation. The next morning a bull d being quiet, and in order to go early to bed. But lo! calls on Mr. Varmint to deliver a message from ta he is told by his gyp that the master or dean has proctor, viz:-That he is fined 6s. 8d. for being in sent a message desiring to see him the next morning. streets without his cap and gown, and that he w Well knowing what this is for, he goeth to bed and be glad to see him at twelve o'clock that day. cons over in his own mind what to say in extenuation he has to call on the proctor, and in he goes with a of his irregularities, and he so falleth to sleep. Next very surly countenance. The proctor puts on cue day, he calls at the appointed time, when the M. C. his most severe phizzes, and informs him that t with a countenance not to be surpassed in gravity, conduct in the streets last night was most ungese informs him for the last week he has been very irre-man-like and improper, against every rule of gular, and requires an account of the circumstances and propriety, and in open opposition to the Acade which occasioned the said irregularity. For the discipline, and contempt of him and his office. P gate-bill thus standeth: Monday night, out till three such conduct deserved much severer chastiset: o'clock; Tuesday half past four; Wednesday half than he was willing to infict, but that he show's) past two; Thursday half past three; Friday half past neglecting the duty he owed to his office and four; Saturday-all night. His excuses are that he University if he overlocked it. He therefore de has been at different parties, where he was detained him to get three hundred verses of Homer's 1 late, and where he has found the society so agreeable, Book second, by heart, and requests he will by and the time fly so imperceptibly fast, that morning means leave the University until it is said. 4 has broke in upon him ere he imagined it was an hour a great deal of opposition, excuses, and protest: past midnight. This draws down a very heavy in- he finds himself not a bit better off, for the pr vective against parties altogether, and a still longer will not mitigate a syllable, and he is obl and more tedious lecture on the dangerous tendency stomach the impos. and retire. For the first of such conduct, so directly opposite to the laws and two afterwards he makes himself very uneasy discipline of the University; and a conclusive para- this, but he at length resolves not to learn it graph containing (amongst other things) a pardon for ever should be the consequence. He therefore past offences, but with an assurance that a repetition out to a party, makes himself very merry, and of similar conduct cannot but meet with a concomi- not a fig about the matter. Next morning be tant cheque in proportion to its enormity, in either pens, unlucky wight to meet with the disan,

accosts him, "Pray, Mr. Varmint, why have you | new. He thought of every thing; but at last resolved not been to chapel lately? I have very seriously to to spend his time in learning the three hundred lines complain of your non-attendance. You have not of Greek, and the five hundred lines of Virgil, for the attended for nearly a fortnight, excepting Sundays, proctor and Mr. Dean. In the mean time the term and you cannot expect that I, or any man, in the divides; and his companions, or the majority of capacity I hold, can overlook such gross irregularity. them, leave the University for their several homes. However, you may think what you like, but I am He, of course, wishes to leave likewise; but he is ill, determined to do my duty towards the college, and to and cannot depart before he is better, which the sursee that you attend regularly. But as that has by no geen does not choose should be the case for some means been the case, and as you have so disrespect-time; and even if he were well, he could not go befully absented yourself, I really must take notice of it fore the dean signed his "ereat," which he would not in a severe way. I am very sorry for it, nobody more do before the imposition was said; so he is hemmed so, but it is an imperative duty I must fulfil. You in on all sides, and has the blue devils, besides a will get by heart 500 lines of Virgil, the 7th Eneid, prospect of growing hippish. He, therefore, spends and I expect it will be said with alacrity and promp- the time he would have passed in pleasure at home, titude. Good morning, sir." So here is Mr. Varmint in the shady court of a college, and stuffs himself with two impositions in hand which must be very with Greek and Latin hexameters, and lives entirely soon in head: one, if not said, will beget rustication; on barley-water and medicine, for the space of three and the other, if neglected, will cause the dean to tell weeks. At the end of this time, we will suppose him bim to take his naine off the boards of the college. getting again convalescent, and recovering his wonted He debates in his own mind as to whether it is better spirits. He satisfies the proctor and the dean by to get them or not; but at length determines to see saying a part of each impos., and after bitterly cursproctors, deans, and in short the whole University at ing the place, leaves it for the country. This is the Uld Nick, rather than look at a word; and way that many men spend their three years at the University. But, Mr. Freshman, whoever you may be, I write this for your especial benefit, and leave it to yourself to copy or avoid such conduct, as you may

to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them."

Alas! how soon do mortals change their firmest d most fixed resolutions! How many circum-think proper. lances occur to induce them to act contrary to their After the long vacation, Mr. Varmint comes up ves. Mr. Varmint, by drinking too much wine again to reside. His sprees of his first year, and the last two days, rather prematurely finds him- their consequences, have gained him experience, and of very much the worse from his late Cyprian ad- he knows how to manage in a scientific way. To stares; and in fact is compelled to send for a sur-avoid gate-bills, he will be out at night as late as he la short, Varmint is obliged to get an ægrotat, confine himself to his rooms, and lie still on the On his table are draughts, powders, and lo; the surgeon visits him daily. What is he to all day by himself on the sofa? His friends are him a great deal to drive away melancholy; but be has an immensity of leisure time on his hands. must read; but what? Walter Scott? No, he ps novels, and all that kind of trash. Lord Byron? bas read him fifty times, and he wants something

pleases, and will defy any one to discover his absence; for he will climb over the college walls, and fee his gyp well, when he is out all night. To avoid impositions from the dean, he will attend more regularly at chapel; which, though a great bore, must yet be endured and to get clear from the clutches of the proctors, he will scud when there is need; and if followed, will floor the bull-dogs, and bolt, He now is twice as gay as before, rides, courses, hunts, shoots, fishes, drives, drinks, fights, swears, rows, and gam

bles, more than ever. He dresses still more like an and a haif at dinner; and afterwards set to, and get eccentric fancy man, and acts yet more unlike what most awfully drunk, each man having floored upwards he ought to do, and thus he passes his terms. But of three bottles of port, independent of champagne now comes the time when he is to be examined for and madeira at dinner, or burgundy and claret. Thes the Little-go; and about three weeks before the exa- they conclude the last feast they shall ever have to mination he begins to read. He finds himself un-gether at college, and another fortnight sees them equal to the task, without cramming. He in conse-all, perhaps, wafted far from the University, some of quence engages a common tutor, and buys all the then for ever.

And sweet science cowers, amongst blooming flowers,
In gay robes of glory majestic array'd.
Farewell, banks of Camus! ye fair scenes of blisses,
Your silver soft stream, like the tide of lilyssus,
The Muse, Loves', and Graces' invincible seat!
Ye cloisters low bending, and proudly extending,
Aye, fresher than airs of Hygeia's retreat.
The spirit befriending, as softly descending,
To cherish young Genius and Taste in your gloom;

It mounts in pure incense to Heav'n's vaulted doc.
From you I must sever; then farewell for ever
Each heart-honour'd object that swell my last

theme;

cram-books published for the occasion. After read-" Farewell to the towers! farewell to the bowers! ing himself ill, he goes in; and by the greatest luck Where the sage wizard Art all his charms hath in the world happens to pass. This puts him in high display'd; spirits again, and he gives a large Spread, and gets drunk on the strength of it. He continues to have a private tutor for the remainder of his residence, and reads with him about one day in a term, until the last term in his third year, when he is obliged to read for his degree of Bachelor of Arts. Accustomed to mirth and gaiety, and to all kinds of sporting pursuits, never having opened a single mathematical book since his residence, knowing Euclid only by name, and Algebra still less, if possible; not being a dab at Latin or Greek; in short, never having professed to be a reading man, Mr. Varmint begins to encounter all the difficulties attending on such a career, when near its termination in severe study. He has now recourse to his private tutor, who finds him miserably deficient; and to work they both go, the one cramming, and the other unable to swallow a mouthful. He falls ill by reading hard, being so unused to it, and gives it up for a week, then sets to again, and so goes on till the day of examination, when he may perhaps muster up resolution enough to go into the Senate-house. If he does go in, and is well enough crammed, he gets a station amongst the apostles; if not, he may perchance be plucked. But if he does not think he shall be able to go through, he reads on a little longer, and goes out at a by-term. This is his career at college; what it may be in after-life, is quite another affair. When he has got his degree in either of these ways, with the rest of his companions, he sits down with all of them, about forty or fifty, to a most glorious spread, ordered from the college cook, to be served up in the most swell style possible. They are about two hours

The world is a field I must enter, but never
Can ought charm my soul like your shade Acadea!
This is one way of proceeding to the degree a
B. A. The "reading man" goes to work in quite
another style. He attends lectures regularly, never
misses chapel, dines nearly always in hall, takes
moderate exercise, is rarely out of college after the
gates are shut, reads twelve hours a day, strives tard
to get prizes and medals, always obtains a shear-
ship, seldom gets "a little the worse for liquor,"
gives no swell parties, runs very little into debt, takes
his cup of bitch at night, and goes quietly to bed, and
thus he passes his time in a way a Varmmt mas
would despise. These are the men who run off was
all the prizes and obtain wranglers' degrees, who p
made fellows and tutors, and who become eventu y
the principal men in the University. But these
by no means the most gifted men, the men of the

I con

KNOWING A MAN.

most brilliant talent, or greatest genius. But they | Empire to his Royal Highness, exclaimed, to the no are the steady men, who owe all their knowledge to small mortification of the historian, "What another hard reading, and desperate perseverance in study. d―d big book, Mr. Gibbon ? hey?" Of course there are many-very many exceptions; but what I state is for the most part the case. clude this account by stating, that many things in it are extenuated, but "nought set down in malice;" and the observant student of a twelvemonth's stand ing in the University, if his acquaintance is at all extensive, will find the truth of my assertions.

THE MISER'S DEATH-BED.

ADVICE TO A POOR GENTLEMAN.

To know, is a word which is very liable to misconstruction. "Do you know such a one?" i. e. Are you upon terms of great intimacy ?--and, Do you wish to acknowledge him as your friend? Though a buck and a quiz, or raff, were to dine together at the same table every day-to meet together, continually, at wine parties-nay, keep together in the same stairAn old gentleman was on his death-bed. The case ;--yet, if the former were asked,--Whether he whole family, and Dick among the number, gather-knew either of the latter? he would answer with all ed around him. "I leave my second son, Andrew," imaginable coolness and composure, in the negative?, said the expiring miser, "my whole estate, and desire "There is such a man, but I don't know him." him to be frugal." Andrew, in a sorrowful tone, as is usual on these occasions, prayed heaven to prolong hus life and health to enjoy it himself. "I recommend Simon, my third son, to the care of his elder brother, and leave him beside four thousand pounds." "Ab, father," cried Simon, (in great affliction to be sure) may heaven give you life and health to enjoy it yourself." At last, turning to poor Dick, "As for you, you have always been a sad dog; you'll never come to good; you'll never be rich; I'll leave you a sinlling to buy a halter." "Ah, father," cried Dick, without any emotion, "may heaven give you life and health to enjoy it yourself."

GOLDSMITH.

EXERCISE FOR YOUNG LOGICIANS.
No cat has two tails,

A cat has one tail more than no cat,
Ergo. A cat has three tails.

To ward off the gripe of poverty, you must pretend to be a stranger to her, and she will at least use you with ceremony. If you be caught dining upon a halfpenny porringer of peas soup and potatoes, praise the wholesomeness of your frugal repast. You may observe, that Dr. Cheyne has prescribed pease-broth for the gravel; hint that you are not one of those who are always making a deity of your belly. If, again, you are obliged to wear a flimsy stuff in the midst of winter, be the first to remark, that stuffs are very much worn at Paris; or, if there be found some irreparable defects in any part of your equipage, which cannot be concealed by all the arts of sitting crosslegged, coaxing, or darning, say, that neither you nor Sampson Gideon were ever very fond of dress. If you be a philosopher, hint that Plato or Seneca are the tailors you choose to employ; assure the company

IPIGRAM ON A CANTAB WHO WAS PLUCK'D FOR that man ought to be content with a bare covering,

ORDERS.

Ned cut off his queue, and was powder'd with care,
Yet sadly mistaken was Ned,

For tho' he had taken such pains with his hair,
The bishop found fault with his head.

A GREAT BOOK A GREAT EVIL

The late Duke of Cumberland, when Gibbon triamphantly presented the last volume of his Roman

since what now is so much his pride, was formerly his shame. In short, however caught, never give out; but ascribe to the frugality of your disposition what others might be apt to attribute to the narrowness of your circumstances. To be poor, and to seem poor, is a certain method never to rise: pride in the great is hateful. in the wise, it is ridiculous; but beggarly pride is a rational vanity, which I have been taught to applaud and excuse.

GOLDSMITH,