in a pea-coat, with his hands buried in the pockets thereof, staring in the face of the Dons whom he meeteth (and he meeteth them purposely), and whistling an insubordinate kind of a ditty, to indicate his defiance of them. He procureth him a fiddle, and goeth round in the dead of night, tweaking the cat-gut in every staircase of the College, by which he bringeth a very unpleasant scrape upon himself as well as his somnolent hearers. He delighteth in incurring the displeasure of the College authorities, and setting at nought the penalties imposed. When "gated to six o'clock" for a week, he systematically absenteth himself from his College until one; and when asked for his imposition, coolly sendeth word to the Dean that he hath not yet received it from his amanuensis. And the Pestilent Freshman continueth his obnoxious career until he either findeth that College is not the place wherein to display school tricks, or getteth a serious warning from the Master and Seniors, or taketh more to his books and less to his jokes, or groweth grave by discovering that College Examinations are "no jokes;" or, in fine (which is usually the case), findeth it dient to post off to Oxford, to kick his heels there, and practise waggery upon the Dean of Christ Church, or similar deserving objects. NO. VIII. THE MUSICAL FRESHMAN. expe The Musical Freshman we do incline to classify as a distinct species, although considered by most Freshmanologists as perfectly identical with the Pestilent Freshman. Moreover, we do deem it vastly essential to pourtray the genuine Musical Freshman accurately, seeing that there be no small number of pretenders, or sham Musical Freshmen; for, verily, most Freshmen, if asked, will arrogate unto themselves that popular appellation. The genuine Musical Freshman, then, is generally likewise a home-bred, as well as a pestilent, Freshman; music being an "extra" rarely taught (except by the birch rod) in schools. He may be known by having his rooms crammed like an Egyptian catacomb with a peculiar kind of lumber, strongly resembling mummy cases, and containing the bodies of defunct fiddles and superannuated wind instruments. He always sporteth a pianoforte, and seldom less than four flutes, wherewith he keepeth up such a perpetual "pother o'er the heads" of the unhappy students underneath, as to compel them two or three times a week to fire pistols up their chimneys as a counterblast to the hideous annoyance. He never goeth to hear the sacred music in the college chapels (pronouncing it "execrable"); but invariably payeth his seven-and-sixpence to hear Italian ditties squalled, and slip-slop fantasias attempted, at concerts, upon which he delivereth elaborate critiques to his admiring friends for a month afterwards. He is perpetually humming and whistling tunes, at the end of which he ejaculateth "splendid thing that!" or "sweet air this!" He hath a whole library of obsolete music, which he palmeth off as a "glorious collection," though he knoweth not the contents of one-tenth, he having purchased them great bargains at sales. He ordereth coffee and fiddles for four, for the purpose of favouring the whole court with what he is pleased to dignify by the name of a "quartett;" after which he inflicteth on the company an "original" composition of his own, which (albeit it smelleth strongly of plagiarisms from Jem Crow and the Dead March in Saul) is nevertheless highly applauded. In his second term the Musical Freshman becometh emboldened to hang out a "septett" in the same style; wherein No. 1 puffeth the flute, No. 2 punisheth the pianoforte, No. 3 tweaketh the fiddle, No. 4 pummeleth the drum, No. 5 murdereth the violincello, No. 6 grunteth on the bassoon, and No. 7 playeth variations with his closed hand in imitation of the French horn; when the Dean unhappily breaketh in upon them, and gateth the drummer, as a public nuisance, for a month, and the rest for a week each, desiring them severally not to be so unpleasantly musical for the future. NO. IX. THE SPORTING FRESHMAN. Of Sporting Freshmen there be annually imported many from the country into the University. They being usually high-breds, we do therefore incline to consider them as a cross breed between the Fast Freshman and the Home Freshman, though partaking mostly of the former character. The genuine Sporting Freshman doth of necessity keep him one horse at the least, with the paraphernalia, or rattletraps whereof he not unfrequently garnisheth the walls of his room, thereby assimilating it as far as possible unto a stable; which interesting illusion he heighteneth by a judicious disposition of whips, spurs, hunting pictures, racing cards, and similar miscellaneous nickknackery pertaining unto horsemanship, besides many guns, fishingrods, and other rural vanities. Indeed we did personally know one very sporting Freshman, who kept his hunting-saddle and leather breeches constantly on his book-shelf. The Sporting Freshman knoweth the pedigree of every horse, and the name of every black-legs, at Newmarket, of the latter, indeed, he sometimes knoweth to his cost more than the mere names. He never toucheth a book of any kind by any chance or under any circumstances; his governor, the Squire, having assured him that he never learned how to worm a dog or sit in a saddle from Arrian or Xenophon, and therefore opineth that his hopeful son will not feel the want of them either,—indeed he rather questioneth whether those worthies knew too much about the matter. As to Euclid, he shrewdly abjureth it; most wisely concluding that a man of spirit wanteth no straight lines except those which he cutteth across country, and no circles beyond such as are described round a race-course. For divinity-why he never so much as goeth near a church except in a steeple-chase. He is constantly talking vociferously at dinner-time, to a party of "sporting birds," about the old mare, or the bay colt, or the grey filly, or the chesnut something; and recounteth to them what and who he met in his ride that morning, with every particular (saving and excepting the precise number of posts he ran against, or of tumbles he got). He is soon well known at all the livery-stables, where he rnnneth many bills up, and many horses down. He indulgeth likewise in shooting in a small way, going out and scaring the blackbirds most magnanimously, but not as yet venturing to pop at more aspiring game, lest he should himself be popped upon by certain obnoxious keepers in the neighbourhood, which verily would be no game at all. He always weareth a cut-away coat, and red or green shawl by way of choaker. He even sporteth a red coat in his second term, which unlawful vestment being quickly pounced upon by the Tutor, is sent home to the governor, as a notification that the owner is afflicted with a severe scarlet fever, and as a proof of his advancement in polite letters: whereupon the said governor immediately sendeth it back to the son, commending his good taste, and telling him that health, air, and exercise are worth all musty, fusty Greek books and rubbishing mathematics in the University, or the universe either,—in which old-fashioned opinion of the governor we assuredly do most particularly coincide. Ohe, jam satis. TO THE AVON. FAIREST of rivers, Avon, roll along In softest course-the theme of many a song ! Still'd though that harp which angels loved to hear, Silent that voice which zephyrs strove to bear, Hush'd though that tongue which charm'd a ravish'd world, Low laid that lip with proudest genius curl'd,— Still thou art beauteous!-On thy wave-worn shore Though fairies dance in lightest maze no more, Yet oft the wanderer's eye may there behold Plants the pale willow and each sweetest flower The spot where she her much-loved Poet mourns :- And cry,—with feelings mix'd of awe and pain,— P. A (VERY) FREE IMITATION OF THE FIRST ECLOGUE OF VIRGIL.* DIALOGUE BETWEEN SMART AND WALKER, TWO CANTABS, *The precise date of this translation is uncertain-consequently it is unknown to which year's Tripos Mr. Walker belongs. ᏚᎷᎪᎡᎢ, I used to fancy, like a fool, Cambridge was like the country school Of course must somewhat larger be: So till I hither came-no later- WALKER. True, Smart-but say (you won't refuse), What first to college turn'd your views? SMART. When my first pair of whiskers curl'd, And took my leave of tasks and birch; From school and all its drudgery, WALKER. And so you bade to school adieu, ᏚᎷᎪᎡᎢ . What could I better, O my friend, May claim, and feast on Fellows' fare. WALKER. Ah lucky dog! in learned pride, |