"I CAN GET THROUGH."

In the cloisters of Trinity College, beneath the library, are grated windows, through which many of the students have occasionally, after the gates were locked, taken the liberty of passing, without an exeat, in rather a novel style. It so happened that, as a certain Cantab was in the act of drawing himself through the bars, he being more than an ordinary mortal's bulk, he stuck fast; and, whilst he was in this dilemma, one of the fellows of the college was passing by, who, stepping up to the student, asked him, in rather an ironical tone, "if he should assist him?" "Thank you," was the reply, “I can get through!" At the same instant he drew himself on the outside.

FAWKES.

Francis, an ingenious poet and divine, was educated at Jesus College, where he took his degrees in arts. He obtained the united vicarages of Orpington and St. Mary Cray, in Kent. He has jocosely related the stratagem he employed to acquire these livings. Dr. Herring was then Archbishop of Canterbury, and Mr. Fawkes, having written a few miscellaneous subjects, committed them to the press, and published them. He made choice of the archbishop for his patron, and prefixed to his poetical labours a dedication to that prelate. Pleased with the compositions of the young poetical divine, his grace honoured him with a general invitation to his table, and added, "the oftener I see you, I shall be more obliged to you." "I took him at his word," says Fawkes, "and

engaged lodgings at Lambeth, and dined with his lordship every day, for upwards of three-quarters of a year. During that time, however, many hints were given me, that my visits were too frequent; but I never thought proper to understand them, the archbishop's general and unqualified promise being a sufficient warrant for my presence. In a word, I stuck so close to him, and persecuted him so much with my company, that he gave me the livings merely to get rid of me."

BEN JONSON,

When the archbishop of York sent him from his table an excellent dish of fish, but without drink, said

"In a dish came fish
From the arch-bis-

Hop was not there,
Because there was no beer."

SMART'S SAYING OF GRAY.

Those who remember Mr. Gray when at the University of Cambridge, where he resided the greater part of his life, will recollect that he was a little prim fastidious man, distinguished by a short shuffling step. He commonly held up his gown behind with one of his hands, at the same time cocking up his chin, and perking up his nose. Christopher Smart, who was contemporary with him at Pembroke Hall, used to say that 66 Gray walked as if he had fouled his small-clothes, and looked as if he smelt it."

BALLAD-SINGING.

Dr. Richard Corbet, Bishop of Norwich, was a great humourist in his words and actions. "After he was D. D." says Aubrey, "he sang ballads at the Crosse at Abingdon. On a market-day, he and some of his companions were at the taverne by the Crosse (which by the way was one of the finest in England). A ballad-singer complained that he had no custome; he could not put off his ballads. The jolly doctor puts off his gowne and puts on the ballad-singer's leathern jacket, and, being a handsome man, and having a rare full voice, he presently vended a great manye, and had a great audience."

RIDING HIS OWN HORSE.

There was a society established at Cambridge, in the year 1757, by the Wranglers, when Dr. Waring was senior, and Mr. Jebb second, called "The Hyson Club.” The members were accustomed to meet for the purpose of drinking tea, and holding rational conversation. Several of the highest characters in the university were already enrolled amongst its members, when Doctor, then Mr. Paley, became an associate, soon after his establishment in the tuition of Christ College. No particular subjectsof discussion were proposed at their meetings, but accident, or the taste of the individuals, naturally led to topics, in which literary men might fairly unbend themselves from severer pursuits. In a debate, one evening, on the justice and expediency of making some alteration in the ecclesiastical constitution of this country, for the

relief of tender consciences, Doctor Gordon, fellow of Emanuel College, and afterwards precentor of Lincoln, an avowed Tory in religious politics, when vehemently opposing the arguments of Mr. Jebb, a strenuous supporter of all such improvements, exclaimed, with his usual heat;—“You mean, Sir, to impose upon us a new church government." "You are mistaken, Sir," said Mr. Paley," Jebb only wants to ride his own horse, not to force you to get up behind him."

WAY OF USING BOOKS.

Sterne used to say "The most accomplished way of using books is to serve them as some people do lords, learn their titles and then brag of their acquaintance."

TROPHIES.

A French nobleman once showing Matthew Prior the palace of his master at Versailles, and desiring him to observe the many trophies of Louis the Fourteenth's victories, asked Prior, if King William, his master, had many such trophies in his palace. "No," said Prior, "the monuments of my master's victories are to be seen everywhere but in his own house."

THE COST OF FASHION.

Lord Mansfield, being willing to save a man who had stolen a watch, desired the jury to value it at ten-pence;

upon which the prosecutor cried out, "ten-pence, my lord,-why the very fashion of it cost me five pounds!” "Oh," says his lordship, we must not hang a man for fashion's sake!"

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POPISH ZEAL.

The Popish party, not content with the indignities they had heaped upon the person of Archbishop Cranmer, actually burnt, publicly, his book on the sacrament. This being told him, he exclaimed, "Ah! they have honoured it more than it deserved, for I hear they burnt it with the New Testament." Which was the fact.

COMPLAINT AND WISH.

Dryden's wife complained to him that he was always reading, and took little notice of her, and finished her complaint with saying, "I wish I was a book, and then I should enjoy more of your company." "Yes, my dear," said Dryden, "I wish you were a book-but an Almanack, I mean, for then I should change you every year.

QUAINT EPITAPH.

Doctor Fuller having requested one of his companions, who was a bon-vivant, to make an epitaph for him, received the following, with the conceit of which he always expressed himself much pleased,—

"Here lies Fuller's earth!"