KEEPING A CONSCIENCE.

The great controversy on the propriety of requiring a subscription to articles of faith, as practised by the church of England, excited at this time (1772) a very strong sensation amongst the members of the two universities. At Oxford the high church were completely triumphant; but in Cambridge the discussion ran high, and exercised talents and ingenuity on both sides of the question, attended with no small asperity. Paley was personally attached to many of the reforming party, but, though favourable to their claims, he did not sign the clerical petition which was presented to the House of Commons for relief; alleging jocularly to Mr. Jebb, as an apology for his refusal, that, he could not afford to keep a conscience."

RETORT ON RETORT.

Dr. South, in his "Animadversions on Dr. Sherlock's Vindication of the Trinity," in 1693, occasionally reflected upon Archbishop Tillotson, for his "signal and peculiar encomium, as he calls it, on the reasoning abilities of the Socinians;" and, being desirous of knowing the archbishop's opinion of his performance, procured a friend of his to draw it from him, who gave it to this effect, that the doctor wrate like a man, but bit like a dog. This being reported to Dr. South, he answered, that " he had rather bite like a dog, than fawn like one." To which the archbishop replied, that " for his part, he should choose to be a spaniel rather than a cur.”

A DELICATE MORSEL.

A son of Grantor, whose delight was rather in the sports of the field than in strutting about the streets of the University à la Cantab, had been out very early oné morning at a fox-chase: from which returning at a late hour, his appetite became so excessively keen, that it was not to be resisted, and accordingly he resolved to beg alms at the first farmhouse he might light on. His sight rendered keener by the cravings of his stomach, he soon espied a small house at some distance, which having gained, he offered his humble petition to mine hostess. The old dame courtesied, begged our hero would alight, and regretted she had no better cheer to offer him than the remnant of a meat pie, the remains of their own frugal meal. "Anything is better than nothing," cried the Cantab, at the same time entreating she would not delay a moment in placing it before him; for he already devoured it in imagination, so keen was his hunger. "Here it is," said the dame, producing it at the same instant from a small cupboard near the elbow of our sportsman, who turned round as she spoke-" Here it is, sir; it is only made of the odds and ends, but may hope your honour would like it, though it has mutton and beef and all that in it." Charming! my good woman, it needs no apology; I never tasted a more delicious morsel in my life!" continued the Cantab, as he swallowed or rather devoured mouthful after mouthful. "But there is fish in it, too," said he, as he greedily sucked what he supposed to be a bone. "Fish," exclaimed the old dame, looking intently on what the sportsman had got in his hand: "fish, nae, sir,—why lack a day (cried she)! if that beant our Billy's comb!”

OVER-WISE.

In a lecture-room of St. John's College, Cambridge, a student one morning, construing or translating some part of a Greek tragedy (the Madea of Euripides), came to the following passage—

Αλλ' ουκ αρισοφος ειμι.

To which he

gave the proper sense

"I am not over-wise."

but pausing as if he doubted its correctness-"You are quite right, sir," observed the humorous lecturer; "go on."

TRUTH AND RHYME.

In the days of Charles II., candidates for holy orders were expected to respond in Latin, to the various interrogatories put to them by the bishop or his examining chaplain. When the celebrated Dr. Isaac Barrow (who was fellow of Trinity College, and tutor to the immortal Newton) had taken his bachelor's degree, and disengaged himself from collegiate leadingstrings, he presented himself before the bishop's chaplain, who, with the stiff stern visage of the times, said to Bar

row

“Quid est fides?” (what is faith?)

"Quod non vides" (what thou dost not see),

answered Barrow with the utmost promptitude. The chaplain, a little vexed at Barrow's laconic answer,

continued-" Quid est spes?" (what is hope?) Magna res" (a great thing), replied the young candidate in the same breath.

"Quid est charitas?" (what is charity?)

was the next question.

66

Magna raritas" (a great rarity),

was again the prompt reply of Barrow, blending truth and rhyme with a precision that staggered the reverend examiner; who went direct to the bishop and told him, that a young Cantab, of philosophic mien (the faces of reading men in those days being generally in the likeness of inverted isosceles triangles), had thought proper to give rhyming answers to three several moral questions: and added, that he believed his name was Barrow, of Trinity College, Cambridge. "Barrow, Barrow!" said the bishop, who well knew the literary and moral worth of the young Cantab, "if that's the case, ask him no more questions: for he is much better qualified," continued his lordship, “to examine us than we him." Barrow received his letters of orders forthwith.

TRUTH versus POLITENESS.

At a tea-party, where some Cantabs happened to be present, after the first dish had been handed round, the lady, who was presiding over the tea equipage," hoped the tea was good.", "Very good indeed, madam," was the general reply, till it came to the turn of one of the Cantabs to speak, who, between truth and politeness, shrewdly observed-"That the tea was excellent, but the water was smoky !"

PRESENCE OF MIND.

The arm of Dr. Barrow, like his argument, was powerful, as the following instance of his prowess, humanity, and love of reasoning, as related by his biographer, will show. Being on a visit to a friend in the country, he rose before daybreak one morning, and went into the yard. He had scarcely left the door, when a large English mastiff, left loose to guard the premises during the night, sprung upon him. Barrow grappled with the dog, threw him on the ground, and himself upon him. In this position he remained, till one of the servants made his appearance, who instantly called off the dog, and extricated the doctor from his perilous situation. Why didn't you strangle him, doctor?" asked the man. Because," ," answered Barrow, "the brute was only doing his duty: and I thought within myself, as I kept him under me, if we all did the same, how much happier the community would be."

A FAREWELL SCENE.

Christopher Anstey, who was bred at King's College, and well known in the world as the author of the "New Bath Guide," and an elegant version of Gay's Fables, was, during his residence in the University of Cambridge, extremely irregular in his conduct. For something which was deemed a serious breach of the college rules, he was required to make an apology to the heads of the society to which he belonged: he accordingly appeared before the parties at the appointed time, but,