"This is too much," said our Cantab to his friend, modestly hiding his face in his hat, having, in the simplicity of his heart, taken the huzzas and claps to be an improved edition of the Senate House. Another Cantab, who was also a Senior Wrangler, and guilty of many singularities, as well as some follies, one who has unjustly heaped reproach on the head of his Alma Mater (see his "Progress of a Senior Wrangler at Cambridge," in the numbers of the defunct London Magazine,) had the following quaternion posted on his room door in Trinity: "King Solomon in days of old, The wisest man was reckon'd: A HOST OF SINGULARITIES Are recorded of the famous Cantab and Etonian, the Rev. George Harvest, B.D., who was one day walking in the Temple Gardens, London, with the son of his patron, the great Speaker Onslow, when he picked up a curious pebble, observing he would keep it for his friend, Lord Bute. He and his companion were going to The Beef-steak Club, then held in Ivy-lane. Mr. Onslow asked him what o'clock it was, upon which he took out his watch, and observed they had but ten minutes good. Another turn or two was proposed, but they had scarcely made half the length of the walk, when he coolly put the pebble into his fob, and threw his watch into the Thames. He was at another time in a boat with the same gentleman, when he began to read a favourite Greek author (for, like Porson, his coat pockets generally contained a moderate library) with such emphasis and strange gesticulations, that HIS WIG AND HAT FELL INTO THE WATER, And he coolly stepped overboard to recover them, without once dreaming that it was not terra-firma, and was fished out with great difficulty. He frequently wrote a letter to one person, forgot to subscribe his name to it, and directed it to another. On one occasion he provided himself with three sermons, having been appointed to preach before the Archdeacon and Clergy of the district. Some wags got them, and having intermixed the leaves, stitched them together in that state, and put them into his sermon-case. He mounted the pulpit at the usual time, took his text, but soon surprised his reverend audience by taking leave of the thread of his discourse. He was, however, so insensible to the dilemma in which he was placed, that he went preaching on. At last the congregation became impatient, both from the length and the nature of his sermon. First the archdeacon slipped out, then the clergy, one by one, followed by the rest of the congregation; but he never flagged, and would have finished HIS TRIPLE, THRICE-CONFUSED DISCOURSE, Had not the clerk reminded him that they were the sole occupants of the lately crowded church. He went down to Cambridge to vote for his Eton contemporary, 66 THE CELEBRATED LORD SANDWICH, When the latter was candidate for the dignity of Highsteward of the University, in opposition to PITT. His lordship invited him to dine with some friends at the Rose Inn. Apropos, my lord," exclaimed Harvest, during the meal, "whence do you derive your nick-name of Jemmy Twitcher?" "Why," said his lordship, "from some foolish fellow." "No, no," said Harvest, "not from some, for every body calls you so;" on which his lordship, knowing it to be the favourite dish of his quondam friend, put a huge slice of plum-pudding upon his plate, which effectually stopped his mouth. His lordship has the credit of being the originator and first President of the Cambridge Oriental Club. He was also THE INVENTOR OF SANDWICHES. Once passing a whole day at some game of which he was fond, he became so absorbed in its progress, that he denied himself time to eat, in the usual way, and ordered a slice of beef between two pieces of toasted bread, which he masticated without quitting his game; and that sort of refreshment has ever since borne the designation of a Sandwich. Parkes, in his Musical Memoirs, gives him the credit of LAPSUS LINGUÆ. It happened, he says, that during a feast given to his lordship by the Corporation of Worcester, when he was First Lord of the Admiralty, a servant let fall a dish with a boiled neat's tongue, as he was bringing it to table. The Mayor expressing his concern to his lordship, "Never mind," said he, "it's only a lapsus lingua!" which witty saying creating a great deal of mirth, one of the Aldermen present, at a dinner he gave soon after, instructed his servant to throw down a roast leg of mutton, that he too might have his joke. This was done; "Never mind,” he exclaimed to his friends, "it's only a lapsus linguæ." The company stared, but he begun a roaring laugh, solus. Finding nobody joined therein, he stopped his mirth, saying, that when Lord Sandwich said it, every body laughed, and he saw no reason why they should not laugh at him. This sally had the desired effect, and the company, one and all, actually shook their sides, and our host was satisfied. OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE LOYALTY. In 1717, George I. and his ministers had contrived to make themselves so unpopular, that the badges of the disaffected, oaken boughs, were publicly worn on the 29th of May, and white roses on the birth-day of the Pretender, the 10th of June. Oxford, and especially the university, manifested such strong feelings, that it was deemed expedient to send a military force there: Cambridge, more inclined to the Whig principles of the court and government, was at the same time complimented with a present of books. Upon this occasion, Dr. Trapp, the celebrated Oxford poet and divine, wrote the following epigram: Our royal master saw, with heedful eyes, Troops he to Oxford sent, as knowing why But books to Cambridge gave, as well discerning Cambridge, as may be well supposed, was not backward in retorting: and an able champion she found in her equally celebrated scholar, physician, and benefactor, Sir William Blowne (founder of a scholarship and the three gold medals called after his name,) who replied to Dr. Trapp in the following quaternion: The king to Oxford sent a troop of horse, Not that Cambridge was behind Oxford in supporting the unfortunate Charles the First, to whom the several colleges secretly conveyed nearly all their ancient plate; and Cromwell, in consequence, retaliated by confining and depriving numbers of her most distinguished scholars, both laymen and divines, many of whom died in exile: and the commissioners of parliament, with a taste worthy of the worst barbarians, caused many of the buildings to be despoiled of their architectural ornaments and exquisite pieces of sculpture and painted glass. It was at this time appeared the following celebrated poetic trifle, extant in the Oxford Sausage, known as THE CUSHION PLOT, Written by Herbert Beaver, Esq., of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, when "Gaby" (as the then President, Dr. Shaw, is called, who had been a zealous Jacobite,) suddenly, on the accession of George the First, became a still more zealous patron of the interests of the House of Hanover. WHEN GABY possession had got of the Hall, Since that, like the rest, was just ready to fall, Which nobody can deny. And first he began to examine the chest, Where he found an old Cushion which gave him distaste; Which nobody can deny. Two letters of Gold on this Cushion were rear'd; Which nobody can deny. "J. R. (quoth the Don, in soliloquy bass) Which nobody can deny. And now to erase these letters so rich, Which nobody can deny: The thing was about as soon done as said, Which nobody can deny. Then hey for preferment-but how did he stare, Which nobody can deny. Then beware, all ye priests, from hence I advise, Terræ Filius relates the following instance of THE DANGER OF DRINKING THE KING'S HEALTH. Mr. Carty of University College, and Mr. Meadowcourt of Merton College, Oxford (says this writer,) were suspended from proceeding to their next degree, in 1716, the first for a period of one, the second for a period of two years, the latter further, not to be permitted "to supplicate for his grace, until he confesses his manifold crimes, and asks pardon upon his knees, For breaking out to that degree of impudence (when the Proctor admonished him to go home from the tavern at an unseasonable hour,) as to command all the company, with a loud voice, to drink King * The benefactor who gave the college the Cushion. |