of his youth. "I spent (says Paley) the two first years of my under-graduateship happily, but unprofitably. I was constantly in society, where we were not immoral, but idle and rather expensive. At the commencement of my third year, however, after having left the usual party at rather a late hour in the evening, I was awakened at five in the morning by one of my companions, who stood at my bed-side and said-Paley, I have been thinking what a d-d fool you are. I could do nothing, probably, were I to try, and can afford the life I lead: you could do everything, and cannot afford it. I have had no sleep during the whole night on account of these reflections, and am now come solemnly to inform you, that, if you persist in your indolence, I must renounce your society.' I was so struck (continued Dr. Paley), with the visit and the visitor, that I lay in bed great part of the day, and formed my plan: I ordered my bedmaker to prepare my fire every evening, in order that it might be lighted by myself; I arose at five, read during the whole of the day, except such hours as chapel and hall required, allotting to each portion of time its peculiar branch of study; and, just before the closing of gates (nine o'clock), I went to a neighbouring coffee-house, where I constantly regaled upon a mutton-chop and a dose of milk-punch and thus, on taking my bachelor's degree, I became Senior Wrangler."

FEAR CURED.

The poet Gray was remarkably fearful of fire; and, that he might be prepared to meet any sudden danger arising from such a calamity, he always kept a ladder of

ropes in his room. He used occasionally to exercise himself by descending and ascending, with a view to become expert in case of real necessity. This attracted the attention of some of his more mischievous brother collegians, who determined to attempt a cure of this habit. Accordingly, in the dead of a very dark night, they roused him from his bed with a cry of fire! taking care to inform him the staircase was in a flame. Up went the window in an instant, and Gray hastened down his ladder with no slight velocity, into a tub of water which had been previously prepared to receive him. The joke operated as a cure on Gray; however, he would not forgive it, but immediately changed his college.

BETTER ACQUAINTED.

Dr. Howard, when rector of St. George, Southwark, went round with the parish officers collecting a brief. Among the rest, they called on a grocer with whom the doctor had a running account; and, to prevent being asked for a settiement, the doctor inquired if he was not some trifle in his debt? On referring to the ledger, there appeared a balance of seventeen shillings, against the doctor, who had recourse to his pocket, and, pulling out some halfpence, a little silver, and a guinea, the grocer, eyeing the latter with a little surprise, being well acquainted with the doctor's poverty, exclaimed— "Good God, sir, you have got a stranger there!" "Indeed I have, Mr. Browne," replied the wit, at the same time returning it very deliberately to his pocket,-" and, before we part, we will be better acquainted!"

BAD LANGUAGE.

Sir John Robinson spoke bad French, and the King of Denmark worse English. Some hours after the king and Sir John had been together, Lord Chesterfield entered, and with a very grave face condoled with Sir John on the misunderstanding between him and the king. The astonished knight protested there was no truth whatever in the report: which Lord Chesterfield interrupted by saying, "Confess or deny, Sir John, as you please; but every one knows there was much bad language between you."

TOM RANDOLPH

Was a man of such pregnant wit, that the Muses may seem not only to have smiled, but to have tickled at his nativity. Once on a day, as it often happens in drinking, a quarrel arose between Randolph and another gentleman, which grew so high, that the gentleman drew his sword, and, striking at Randolph, cut off his little finger; whereupon, in an extempore humour, Randolph instantly made the following verses:

"Arithmetic nine digits and no more
Admits of, then I have all my store;

But what mischance have ta'en from my left-hand,
It seems did only for a cipher stand;
Hence, when I scan my verse, if I do miss,

I will impute the fault only to this :
A finger's loss, I speak it not in sport,
Will make a verse a foot too short."

THE RETORT.

In the year 1712, Matthew Prior, who was then a fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, and who, not long before, had been employed by Queen Anne as her plenipotentiary at the court of France, came to Cambridge, and the next morning paid a visit to the master of his college (then Dr. Gower, or Jenkins). The master was attached to Prior's principles, had a great opinion of his abilities, and a great respect for his character in the world; but he had a much greater opinion and respect for himself. He knew his own dignity too well to permit a fellow of his college to sit down in his presence; and therefore kept his seat himself, and let the queen's ambassador stand. A little piqued at his reception, Matthew Prior, who was not then noted as a dab at an epigram, thought the present too tempting an opportunity to be let slip. He therefore, on his way to the Rose, from his college, where he went to dine, composed the following epigram, which he addressed to the master :

EPIGRAM.

"I stood, sir, patient at your feet,
Before your elbow-chair;

But make a bishop's throne your seat,
I'll kneel before you there.

One only thing can keep you down,

For your great soul too mean;
You'd not, to mount a bishop's throne,
Pay homage to the queen."

TRAIT OF PORSON.

The same spirit of independence, so strongly discernible in Porson's moral character, was also visible in his literary character; and he never appeared so sore, or so irritable, as when a Wakefield or a Hermann offered to set him right, or hold their tapers to light him on his way. Ile considered them, and others, on such occasions, as four-footed animals; and used to say that, in future, whatever he wrote, he would take care they should not reach it with their paws, though they stood on their hind legs to get at it.

IMPROMPTU.

In a mathematical examination at Benét, in CorpusChristi College, Cambridge, a student, being required to define a triangle and a circle, made the following impromptu :

"Let mathematicians and geometricians

Talk of circles' and triangles' charms;

But the figure I prize is a girl with bright eyes,
And the circle that's formed by her arms."

ELEGANT RETORT.

BY THE LATE LORD ELLENBOROUGH.

Lord Ellenborough, who was educated at St. John's College, Cambridge, when Mr. Law, was so unfortunate as to make an enemy in the person of Lord Kenyon,