Cheer up, old fellow! you are not half way through the ceremony of initiation yet. We must brighten up that solemn phiz of yours, and give you a lesson or two on college principles? If I had been thrown upon some newly-discovered country, among a race of wild Indians, I could not have been more perplexed and confounded than I now felt in endeavouring to rally, and appear to comprehend this peculiar phraseology.
A conversation now ensuing between a gentleman commoner, whom the party designated Pontius Pilate{23} and Tom Echo, relative to the comparative merits of their hunters, afforded me an opportunity of surveying the larium of my friend; the entrance to which was through a short passage, that served the varied purposes of an ante-room or vestibule, and a scout's pantry and boot-closet. On the right was the sleeping-room, and at the foot of a neat French bed I could perceive the wine bin, surrounded by a regiment of dead men{24} who had, no doubt, departed this life like heroes in some battle of Bacchanalian sculls. The principal chamber, the very penetrale of the Muses, was about six yards square, and low, with a rich carved oaken wainscoting, reaching to the ceiling; the monastic gloom being materially increased by two narrow loopholes, intended for windows, but scarcely yielding sufficient light to enable the student to read his Scapula or Lexicon{25} with the advantage of a meridian sun: the fire-place was immensely wide, emblematical, no doubt, of the capacious stomachs of the good fathers and fellows, the ancient inhabitants of this sanctum; but the most singularly-striking characteristic was the modern decorations, introduced by the present occupant.
23 A quaint cognomen applied to him from the rapidity with
which he boasted of repeating the Nicene Creed,—i.e.
offering a bet that no would give any man as far as "Pontius
Pilate," and beat him before he got to the "resurrection of
the dead."
24 Dead Men—Empty bottles.
25 Scapula, Hederic, and Lexicon, the principal
Dictionaries in use for studying Greek.
Over the fire-place hung a caricature portrait of a well-known Bachelor of Arts, drinking at the Pierian spring, versus gulping down the contents of a Pembroke overman,{26} sketched by the facetious pencil of the humorist, Rowlandson.
ECCÈ SIGNUM.
I could not help laughing to observe on the one side of this jolly personage a portrait of the little female Giovanni Vestris, under which some wag had inscribed, "A Mistress of Hearts," and on the other a full-length of Jackson the pugilist, with this motto—"A striking likeness of a fancy lecturer."
26 An Herman—At Pembroke, a large silver tankard, holding
two quarts and half a pint, so called from the donor, Mr.
George Overman. The late John Hudson, the college tonsor
and common room man,{*} was famous for having several
times, for trifling wagers, drank a full overman of strong
beer off at a draught. A Tun, another vessel in use at
Pembroke, is a half pint silver cup. A Whistler, a silver
pint tankard also in use there, was the gift of Mr. Anthony
Whistler, a cotemporary with Shenstone.
* Common room man, a servant who is entirely employed in
attending upon the members of the common room.
Junior common room, a room in every college, except Christ
Church, set apart for the junior members to drink wine in
and read the newspapers.
N.B. There is but one common room at Christ Church; none but
masters of arts and noblemen can be members of it,—the
latter but seldom attend. The last who attended was the late
Duke of Dorset. All common rooms are regularly furnished
with newspapers and magazines.
Curator of the common rooms.-A senior master of arts, who
buys the wine and inspects the accounts.
In the centre of the opposite side hung the portrait of an old scout, formerly of Brazennose, whose head now forms the admission ticket to the college club. Right and left were disposed the plaster busts of Aristotle and Cicero; the former noseless, and the latter with his eyes painted black, and a huge pair of mustachios annexed. A few volumes of the Latin and Greek classics were thrown into a heap in one corner of the room, while numerous modern sporting publications usurped their places on the book shelves, richly gilt and bound in calf, but not lettered. The hunting cap, whip, and red coat were hung up like a trophy between two foxes' tails, which served the purpose of bell pulls. At this moment, my topographical observations were disturbed by the arrival of the scout with candles, and two strange-looking fellows in smock frocks, bringing in, as I supposed, a piano forte, but which, upon being placed on the table, proved to be a mere case: the top being taken off, the sides and ends let down in opposite directions, and the cloth pulled out straight, displayed an elegant dinner, smoking hot, and arranged in as much form as if the college butler had superintended the feast. "Come, old fellow," said Tom, "turn to—no ceremony. I hope, Jem," addressing his scout, "you took care that no college telegraph{27} was at work while you were smuggling the dinner in." "I made certain sure of that, sir," said Jem; "for I placed Captain Cook{28} sentinel at one corner of the quadrangle, and old Brady at the other, with directions to whistle, as a signal, if they saw any of the dons upon the look out."