THE BOASTING FRESHMAN. And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell That men shall swear I've discontinued school It was at the conclusion of the Short Vacation that I, Geoffrey Carleton, found myself waiting, bag in hand, upon the authorities of the Northern and Eastern Railway, with the ulterior intention of performing my necessary transit from London to Haileybury. By the aid of a tall policeman, and my own natural instincts, I was in due time comfortably ensconced in the interior of a first-class carriage. Having therein arranged my person and traps to the greatest possible advantage, I proceeded to gratify my critical tastes by a survey of the gentleman opposite, with whom it was now my signal good fortune to be a fellow-traveller. He had (as a novel would say) apparently numbered between sixteen and seventeen summers, was possessed of light hair and a florid complexion, and reclined gracefully in the carriage, attired in a large white coat, of the kind yclept Chesterfield. Though wearing a look of immense importance and great self-satisfaction, I could yet perceive a certain viridity of appearance about my travelling companion that fully bore me out in the conjecture 1 had previously formed, of his being no other than a Freshman. I took one more glance, and then, seeing him about to address me, hastily revolved in my mind a plan of operations incidental to "drawing the young gentleman out," and stared with violent earnestness at the green fields, through which we were passing "like a thought." "I beg your pardon," said he, after two or three preparatory hems, "but are you going to the E. I. College?” This was a decided staggerer, for I had determined to preserve a strict incog. I managed, however, to fence the question, by a counter one of whether the College mentioned was situated near Bishop's Stortford. 'Bishop's Stortford!" said he, with a sneer at my ignorance, no it's at Haileybury, near Hertford. I'm a student there." Indeed!" I replied, with all the respect such a communication was calculated to inspire-"have you been long there?" "A pretty good time," (with an air of indifference) "a term or two." I suppose, then," said I, "you must have seen some little fun in your day, eh? I know you college men are sad fellows." Why," answered he, "to tell you the truth, I have been rather fast, but you know when a man is at college he must" "Exactly," said I. "By the way, I do know one man there slightly, Carleton; do you know him?" "Carleton; oh very well, a consequential, conceited prig of a fellow, a man with more pretensions than brains, eh?" I gave a nod of assent to this flattering portrait of myself, and begged him to give me some small idea of college life. Most obligingly did he consent, and until our arrival at Broxbourne most vastly was I entertained with the account of his exploits, and his schoolboy portraitures of society as constituted at Haileybury Collegehow he squibbed more heartily than any on the 5th November, although such conduct was diametrically opposed to the wishes of the Dean and the regulations of the statute-book; how he had bonneted beaks' by scores, and broken windows by hundreds; how readily on the morrow he had replied to the accusations of the council, courageously drawing down all their wrath upon himself; and by Jove! how nearly he was being rusticated, nay, expelled the College altogether. Breathless with astonishment, I listened to his hairbreadth escapes, highly commending his inordinate bravery, but earnestly entreating him, if not for himself, at least for the sake of his friends, to repress the ambitious promptings of his nature, lest results might occur displeasing to his father, and distressing to his family. At this point had our conversation arrived, when the final stopping of the railway train announced our arrival at Broxbourne. I mentioned to my friend my intention of proceeding to Hertford to stop the night, and accordingly we together mounted the conveyance of Mr. Staples. Our conversation on our road to College consisted of the same sort of matter as heretofore,-descriptions of scenes never witnessed, rows never joined in-no faltering, not even a pause on the part of my friend-no halt, were it but to take breath, occurred for one moment in his interesting and vivid recital. Upon our arrival at the college gates I watched his countenance, and perceived it change colour as I also descended from the roof of the coach. To his query, "Are you going to stop here?" I replied with deliberation, "Why, I rather think I shall-and in addition, though so scantily furnished with brains and so abundantly with pretensions (presenting my card) I shall be exceedingly happy to see you in my room." Oh! for the pencil of Cruikshank to depict the changed features, the chop-fallen countenance, of the boasting Freshman ! G. C. SONG. Philosophers old The joys have told Of those who dare leave the vile world and die; The ecstatic pleasure- Of a Death like this, Pierced by the glance of a soft dark eye! Of the pangs they brave, When they blindly rush into Death's cold arms : As the glance of thy e'en? Yet I'd dare the pain Of such death again Gazing once more on those fatal charms. I know my madness To nourish sadness, So he, in whose ill-governed mind No more by wonted bounds confined See in the forum Julius die; Or upon Egypt's fertile plain A headless corse see Pompey lie; See Hannibal despairing drain These by ambition high were swayed But soon withdrew; then feeble grown Their fondly cherished hopes o'erthrown Whilst ceaseless echo in his tortured ear The groans of those his triumphs have betrayed— On fortune's lofty pinnacle he stands, His former foes subjected to his will, Till forced to bow to potent fate's command, Too late he finds himself but mortal still." So reasons he Whose moments fly Contentedly Skilled to enjoy Without th' alloy Of pomp and power. One passion sole His breast inflames, His nature tames; His chief delight— Ensnared in love's voluptuous coils, The even tenor of his life. For him each swiftly circling day Rather my choice the ascent to climb Him who would reach her temple's gate. Posterity perchance inflame, Like me in lofty paths to roam. Thus like those mighty streams which wend Nor deign, presumptuous, to blend Deep in their hearts, Ambition! thanks to thee. A. |