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This was so noted by the wits of those daies, that it was the talk of the whole universitie, and, withal, it did so nettle the Vice-chancellor, that he complained to the Archbishop of Canterburie, who, willing to redress him, sent for this scholar up to London, to defend himself against this crime laid to his charge by the Vice-chancellor; where coming, he gave so many proofs of his extraordinary wit, that the archbishop enjoined him to preach before King James; to which, after some excuses, he at length consented, and, coming into the pulpit, begins,— James the First and the Sixth, waver not,-meaning the first king of England and the sixth of Scotland. At first, the king was somewhat amazed at the text, but, in the end, he was so well pleased with the sermon, that he made the preacher one of his chaplains in ordinary. After this advancement, the archbishop sent him down to Cambridge to make his recantation to the Vice-chancellor, and to take leave of the university, which he accordingly did, in a sermon, for which he took the latter part of the verse of his former text, Sleep on now, and take your rest. Concluding his sermon, he made his apology to the vice-chancellor, saying, "Whereas, I said before," which gave offence, “what, cannot ye watch one hour? I say now, sleep on, and take your rest," and so left the universitie.
The Rev. George Harvest, who had been his schoolfellow at Eton, came down to Cambridge to vote for Lord Sandwich, when he stood candidate for the chancellorship of that university. At a dinner given to his
friends on the occasion, his lordship, joking him on some of their school-boy tricks, in the simplicity of his heart, Harvest suddenly exclaimed, “ Apropos! where do you derive your name of Jemmy Twitcher?""Why," answered his lordship, “from some foolish fellow or other."-" No, no," interruptod Harvest," it is not some, but every body calls you so." His lordship being seated near the pudding, for which he knew Harvest had no slight relish, put a large slice on his plate, which Harvest immediately attacked, which had the desired effect of putting an end to his apropos.
"ALAS! WE CAN'T."
At a party where there was no lack of either good port, good fellowship, or harmony, one of the gentlemen proposed, at the end of a song, they should take a glass. "Would we could have a lass!" exclaimed a second. "Alas! we can't," was the bewail-instanter of a third.
SIR BUSICK HARWOOD AND THE CANDLE AND LANTERN.
During the period Sir Busick Harwood was professor of anatomy in the University of Cambridge, he was called in, in a case of some difficulty, by the friends of a patient, who were anxious for his opinion of the malady. Not approving the treatment which had been pursued towards the invalid, and, in answer to his inquiry, being told the name of the medical man who had previously
prescribed, Sir Busick exclaimed, perhaps with more truth than feeling,-"He! if he were to descend into the patient's stomach with a candle and lantern, when he ascended he would not be able to name the complaint."
HOCK versus FALERNIAN.
As some Peter-house fellows, one day, as I have heard,
Put an end to the war by this comical speech :— "You may talk of your wines, with a name purely classic,
Such as Chiar, Falernian, Lesbian, and Massic;
A LONG-WINDED SERMON.
The erudite Dr. Isaac Barrow, who, it is well known, was tutor to Sir Isaac Newton, during his residence as an undergraduate at Trinity College, Cambridge, was complimented, by King Charles II., with the title of the best scholar of the age, but called him an unfair one; "for," said the king," when he once begins a subject, he says so much on it, that nobody can say anything on the
* Vide Hor. Sat. 6. lib. 2.
same point after him." Barrow was certainly very longwinded, and could discern as well as, or better than, any of his cotemporaries, all the positions in which a thesis could be taken; and, as he reasoned on them in a regular syllogistic style, he seldom omitted anything, pertinent to the proof, for others to say after him. Dr. Pope, in his life of Seth Ward, Bishop of Salisbury, relates the following curious anecdote of him :-Barrow, being appointed to preach in Westminster Abbey, divided his discourse into two parts. The first, on lies; and the second, on slander. He was four hours delivering the first part, so fully had he entered into the subject. The congregation sneaked off, but the dean and prebends could not, with propriety, leave till the conclusion of the sermon. But, at last, thinking it would be like Aristotle's world, TEλUTαLOV (without limit), they sent a chorister to desire the organist to draw out his trumpet and open-diapason stop, and play the doctor down. This was instantly done. Dr. Pope afterwards asked Barrow "if he did not feel himself distressed in the lungs after such a spell at preaching ?"" Not at all," was his reply, "I was only a little tired with standing."
SETTLING A POINT OF PRECEDENCE.
On a time, a question arose in the University of Cambridge, between the doctors of law and the doctors of medicine, as to which ought to take precedence of the other on public occasions. It was referred to the Chancellor, who facetiously inquired whether the thief or the hangman preceded at an execution, and, being told that the thief usually took the lead on such occasions,-" Well,
then," he replied, "let the doctors in law have the precedence, and the doctors of medicine be next in rank." This humorous observation set the point in dispute at
A party of Johnians were one day assembled in order to moisten the inward man with a bumper of wine, when the conversation turned upon a discussion of the different festivals and days-amongst others, sidereal and solar days were named. A dry fish, who looked anything but a punster, putting a bumper to his lips, observed, "I think we should have jovial days as well."
One of the wooden mitres carved by Grin. Gibbon over a prebend's stall in the cathedral church of Canterbury happening to become loose, Jessy White, the surveyor of that edifice, inquired of the dean whether he should make it fast-" for, perhaps," said Jessy, "it may fall on your reverence's head." "Well! Jessy, suppose it does," answered the humorous Cantab,suppose it does fall on my head, I don't know that a mitre falling on my head would hurt it."
A COMPLIMENT RETURNED IN FULL.
Porson once happened to be in the company of Dr. Jackson, an Oxonian, who, thinking to pay the learned professor a flattering compliment, said to him, "Porson,