Yet this was as good-hearted a parson as ever lived:—affectionate, friendly, and, so far as Greek, Latin, Prosody, and Euclid went, excelled by few: and under him I acquired, in one year, more classical knowledge than I had done during the former six,—whence I was enabled, out of thirty-six pupils, to obtain an early place in the University of Dublin, at entrance.
The college course, at that time, though a very learned one, was ill arranged, pedantic, and totally out of sequence. Students were examined in “Locke on the Human Understanding,” before their own had arrived at the first stage of maturity; and Euclid was pressed upon their reason before any one of them could comprehend a single problem. We were set to work at the most abstruse sciences before we had well digested the simpler ones, and posed ourselves at optics, natural philosophy, ethics, astronomy, mathematics, metaphysics, &c. &c. without the least relief from belles-lettres, modern history, geography, or poetry; in short, without regard to any of those acquirements—the classics excepted,—which form essential parts of a gentleman’s education.[[16]]
[16]. Mr. Hutchinson, a later provost, father of Lord Donoughmore, went into the opposite extreme; a most excellent classical scholar himself, polished and well read, he wished to introduce every elegant branch of erudition:—to cultivate the modern languages,—in short, to adapt the course to the education of men of rank as well as men of science. The plan was most laudable, but was considered not monastic enough: indeed, a polished gentleman would have operated like a ghost among those pedantic Fellows of Trinity College. Dr. Waller was the only Fellow of that description I ever saw.
Mr. Hutchinson went too far in proposing a riding-house. The scheme drew forth from Dr. Duigenan a pamphlet called “Pranceriana,” which turned the project and projector into most consummate, but very coarse and ill-natured ridicule.
Doctor Barrett, late vice-provost, dining at the table of the new provost, who lived in a style of elegance attempted by none of his predecessors, helped himself to what he thought a peach, but which happened to be a shape made of ice. On taking it into his mouth, never having tasted ice before, he supposed, from the pang given to his teeth and the shock which his tongue and mouth instantly received, that the sensation was produced by heat. Starting up, therefore, he cried out (and it was the only oath he ever uttered), “I’m scalded, by G—d!”—ran home, and sent for the next apothecary!
Nevertheless, I jogged on with bene for the classics—satis for the sciences—and mediocriter for mathematics. I had, however, the mortification of seeing the stupidest fellows I ever met, at school or college, beat me out of the field in some of the examinations, and very justly obtain premiums for sciences which I could not bring within the scope of my comprehension.
My consolation is, that many men of superior talent to myself came off no better; and I had the satisfaction of hearing that some of the most erudite, studious, and pedantic of my contemporary collegians, who entertained an utter contempt for me, went out of their senses; and I do believe that there are at this moment some of the most eminent of my academic rivals amusing themselves in mad-houses. One of them I lamented much—he still lives; his case is a most extraordinary one, and I shall mention it hereafter:—’twill puzzle the doctors.
Whenever, indeed, I seek amusement by tracing the fate of such of my school and college friends as I can get information about, I find that many of the most promising and conspicuous have met untimely ends; and that most of those men whose great talents distinguished them first in the university and afterward at the bar, had entered, as sizers, for provision as well as for learning:—indigence and genius were thus jointly concerned in their merited elevation; and I am convinced that the finest abilities are frequently buried alive in affluence and in luxury: revolutions are sometimes their hot-bed, and at other times their grave.