1832.] The Cambridge Freshman. 53 



The youth calls on a friend, and if " gay" is inveigled into a " wet 

 night," and rolls back to the hotel at two in the morning Bacchi plenus, 

 whereas the " steady man" regales himself with sober Bohea, talks of 

 Newton and Simeon, resolves to read mathematics with Burkitt, go to 

 chapel fourteen times a week, and never miss Trinity Church* on 

 Thursday evenings. The next day he asks the porter of his college 

 where the tutor lives ; the key-bearing Peter laughs in his face, and 

 tells him where he keeps ; he reaches the tutor's rooms, finds the door 

 sported, and knocks till his knuckles bleed. He talks of Newton to his 

 tutor, and his tutor thinks him a fool. He sallies forth from Law's 

 (the tailor's) for the first time in the academical toga and trencher, 

 marches most majestically across the grass-plot in the quadrangle of his 

 college, is summoned before the master, who had caught sight of him 

 from the lodge-windows, and reprimanded. His gown is a spick-and- 

 span new one, of orthodox length, and without a single rent ; he caps 

 every Master of Arts he meets ; besides a few Bachelors, and gets into 

 the gutter to give them the wall. He comes into chapel in his surplice, 

 and sees it is riot surplice-morning, runs back to his rooms for his gown, 

 and on his return finds the second lesson over. He has a tremendous 

 larum at his bed's head, and turns out every day at five o'clock in 

 imitation of Paley. He is in the lecture-room the very moment the 

 clock has struck eight, and takes down every word the tutor says. He 

 buys " Hints to Freshmen," reads it right through, and resolves to 

 eject his sofa from his rooms.t He talks of the roof of King's chapel, 

 walks through the market-place to look at Hobson's conduit, and quotes 

 Milton's sonnet on that famous carrier. He proceeds to Peter House 

 to see Gray's fire-escape, and to Christ's to steal a bit of Milton's mul- 

 berry tree. He borrows all the mathematical MSS. he can procure, and 

 stocks himself with scribbling paper enough for the whole college. He 

 goes to a wine-party, toasts the university officers, sings sentiments, 

 asks for tongs to sugar his coffee, finds his cap and gown stolen and old 

 ones left in their place. He never misses St. Mary's (the University 

 Church) on Sundays, is on his legs directly the psalmody begins, and 

 is laughed at by the other "gownsmen. He reads twelve or thirteen 

 hours a day, and talks of being a wrangler. He is never on the wrong 

 side of the gates after ten, and his buttery bills are not wound up with 

 a single penny of fines. He leaves the rooms of a friend in college, 

 rather late perhaps, and after ascending an Atlas-height of stairs, and 

 hugging himself with the anticipation of crawling instanter luxuriously 

 to bed, finds his door broken down, his books in the coal-scuttle and 

 grate, his papers covered with more curves than Newton or Descartes 

 could determine, his bed in the middle of the room, and his surplice, on 

 whose original purity he had so prided himself, drenched with ink. If 

 he is matriculated he laughs at the beasts (those who are not matriculated), 

 and mangles slang: wrangler s,f ops, andmedalists become quite "household 

 words" to him. He walks to Trumpington every day before hall to get 

 an appetite for dinner, and never misses grace. He speaks reverently 

 of masters and tutors, and does not curse even the proctors ; he is mer- 

 ciful to his wine-bin, which is chiefly saw-dust, pays his bills, and owes 

 nobody a guinea he is a Freshman ! J- F. 



Mr. Simeon's. None of pur well-beloved readers, we presume, are so fresh 

 as not to know this gentleman's name, 

 f One of the sage and momentous injunctions of this pastoral charge. 



