Powers

But, my son, think not that it is necessary for thee to be excellent if thou wouldst be powerful.  Observe how the lighter substance in nature riseth by its own levity and overtoppeth that which is the more grave.  Even so, my son, mayest thou be light and worthless, and yet make a goodly show above those who are of a more intrinsic value than thyself.  But as much circumspection will be necessary for thee to attain this glorious end, and as by reason of thy youth thou art liable to miss many of the most able and effective means of becoming possessed of it, hear the words of an old man and treasure them in thy heart.  The required qualities, my son, are easily procured; many are naturally gifted with them.  In order, however, that thou mayest keep them in set form in thy mind commit to memory the following list of requisites: Love of self, love of show, love of sound, reserve, openness, distrust.

The love of self, which shall chiefly manifest itself in the obtaining the best of all things for thyself to the exclusion of another, be he who he may; and as meal-times are the fittest occasion for the exercise of this necessary quality, I will even illustrate my meaning that thou mayest the more plainly comprehend me.  Suppose that many are congregated to a breakfast and there is a dish of kidneys on the table, but not so many but what the greater number must go without them, cry out with a loud voice, immediately that thou hast perceived them: “Kidneys!  Oh, ah!  I say, G., old fellow, give us some kidneys.”  Then will the master of the house be pleased that he hath provided something to thy liking, and as others from false shame will fear to do the like thou wilt both obtain that thy soul desireth, and be looked upon by thy fellows as a bold fellow and one who knoweth how to make his way in the world, and G. will say immediately: “Waiter, take this to Mr. Potguts,” and he taketh them, and so on, my son, with all other meats that are on the table, see thou refrain not from one of them, for a large appetite well becometh a power, or if not a large one then a dainty one.  But if thine appetite be small and dainty see thou express contempt for a large eater as one inferior to thyself.  Or again, my son, if thou art not at a banquet but enterest any room where there are many met together, see thou take the arm-chair or the best seat or couch, or what other place of comfort is in the room; and if there be another power in the room as well as thyself see thou fight with him for it, and if thou canst by any craft get rid of him an he be more thickly set than thyself, see that thou do this openly and with a noise, that all men may behold and admire thee, for they will fear thee and yield and not venture to reprove thee openly; and so long as they dare not, all will be well.  Nevertheless I would have thee keep within certain bounds, lest men turn upon thee if thy rule is too oppressive to be borne.  And under this head I would class also the care and tending of the sick; for in the first place the sick have many delicacies which those who are sound have not, so that if thou lay the matter well, thou mayest obtain the lion’s share of these things also.  But more particularly the minds of men being weak and easily overpowered when they are in sickness, thou shalt obtain much hold over them, and when they are well (whether thou didst really comfort them or not) they will fear to say aught against thee, lest men shall accuse them of ingratitude.  But above all see thou do this openly and in the sight of men, who thinking in consequence that thy heart is very soft and amiable notwithstanding a few outward defects, will not fail to commend thee and submit to thee the more readily, and so on all counts thou art the gainer, and it will serve thee as an excuse with the authorities for the neglect or breach of duty.  But all this is the work of an exceedingly refined and clever power and not absolutely necessary, but I have named it as a means of making thy yoke really the lighter but nevertheless the more firmly settled upon the neck of thy fellows.  So much then for the love of self.

As for the love of show this is to display itself in thy dress, in the trimming or in the growth of thy whiskers, in thy walk and carriage, in the company thou keepest, seeing that thou go with none but powers or men of wealth or men of title, and caring not so much for men of parts, since these commonly deal less in the exterior and are not fit associates, for thou canst have nothing in common with them.  When thou goest to thy dinner let a time elapse, so that thine entry may cause a noise and a disturbance, and when after much bustling thou hast taken thy seat, say not: “Waiter, will you order me green peas and a glass of college,” but say: “Waiter (and then a pause), peas,” and then suffer him to depart, and when he hath gone some little way recall him with a loud voice, which shall reach even unto the ears of the fellows, say, “and, waiter, college”; and when they are brought unto thee complain bitterly of the same.  When thou goest to chapel talk much during the service, or pray much; do not the thing by halves; thou must either be the very religious power, which kind though the less remarked yet on the whole hath the greater advantage, or the thoughtless power, but above all see thou combine not the two, at least not in the same company, but let thy religion be the same to the same men.  Always, if thou be a careless power, come in late to chapel and hurriedly; sit with the other powers and converse with them on the behaviour of others or any other light and agreeable topic.  And, as I said above, under this love of show thou must include the choice of thine acquaintance, and as it is not possible for thee to order it so as not to have knowledge of certain men whom it will not be convenient for thee to know at all times and in all places, see thou cultivate those two excellent defects of both sight and hearing which will enable thee to pass one thou wouldst not meet, without seeing him or hearing his salutation.  If thou hast a cousin or schoolfellow who is somewhat rustic or uncouth in his manner but nevertheless hath an excellent heart, know him in private in thine individual capacity, but when thou art abroad or in the company of other powers shun him as if he were a venomous thing and deadly.  Again, if thou sittest at table with a man at the house of a friend and laughest and talkest with him and playest pleasant, if he be not perfect in respect of externals see thou pass him the next day without a smile, even though he may have prepared his countenance for a thousand grins; but if in the house of the same friend or another thou shouldst happen to stumble upon him, deal with him as though thy previous conversation had broken off but five minutes previously; but should he be proud and have all nothing to say unto thee, forthwith calumniate him to thine acquaintance as a sorry-spirited fellow and mean.

And with regard to smoking, though that, too, is advantageous, it is not necessary so much for the power as for the fast man, for the power is a more calculating and thoughtful being than this one; but if thou smokest, see that others know it; smoke cigars if thou canst afford them; if not, say thou wonderest at such as do, for to thy liking a pipe is better.  And with regard to all men except thine own favoured and pre-eminent clique, designate them as “cheerful,” “lively,” or use some other ironical term with regard to them.  So much then for the love of show.

And of the love of sound I would have thee observe that it is but a portion of the love of show, but so necessary for him who would be admired without being at the same time excellent and worthy of admiration as to deserve a separate heading to itself.  At meal-times talk loudly, laugh loudly, condemn loudly; if thou sneezest sneeze loudly; if thou call the waiter do so with a noise and, if thou canst, while he is speaking to another and receiving orders from him; it will be a convenient test of thine advance to see whether he will at once quit the other in the midst of his speech with him and come to thee, or will wait until the other hath done; if thou handle it well he will come to thee at once.  When others are in their rooms, as thou passeth underneath their windows, sing loudly and all men will know that a power goeth by and will hush accordingly; if thou hast a good voice it will profit thee much, if a bad one, care not so long as it be a loud one; but above all be it remembered that it is to be loud at all times and not low when with powers greater than thyself, for this damneth much—even powers being susceptible of awe, when they shall behold one resolutely bent to out-top them, and thinking it advisable to lend such an one a helping hand lest he overthrow them—but if thy voice be not a loud one, thou hadst better give up at once the hope of rising to a height by thine own skill, but must cling to and flatter those who have, and if thou dost this well thou wilt succeed.

And of personal strength and prowess in bodily accomplishment, though of great help in the origin, yet are they not necessary; but the more thou lackest physical and mental powers the more must thou cling to the powerful and rise with them; the more careful must thou be of thy dress, and the more money will it cost thee, for thou must fill well the bladders that keep thee on the surface, else wilt thou sink.

And of reserve, let no man know anything about thee.  If thy father is a greengrocer, as I dare say is the case with some of the most mighty powers in the land, what matter so long as another knoweth it not?  See that thou quell all inquisitive attempts to discover anything about thine habits, thy country, thy parentage, and, in a word, let no one know anything of thee beyond the exterior; for if thou dost let them within thy soul, they will find but little, but if it be barred and locked, men will think that by reason of thy strong keeping of the same, it must contain much; and they will admire thee upon credit.

And of openness, be reserved in the particular, open in the general; talk of debts, of women, of money, but say not what debts, what women, or what money; be most open when thou doest a shabby thing, which thou knowest will not escape detection.  If thy coat is bad, laugh and boast concerning it, call attention to it and say thou hast had it for ten years, which will be a lie, but men will nevertheless think thee frank, but run not the risk of wearing a bad coat, save only in vacation time or in the country.  But when thou doest a shabby thing which will not reach the general light, breathe not a word of it, but bury it deeply in some corner of thine own knowledge only; if it come out, glory in it; if not, let it sleep, for it is an unprofitable thing to turn over bad ground.

And of distrust, distrust all men, most of all thine own friends; they will know thee best, and thou them; thy real worth cannot escape them, think not then that thou wilt get service out of them in thy need, think not that they will deny themselves that thou mayest be saved from want, that they will in after life put out a finger to save thee, when thou canst be of no more use to them, the clique having been broken up by time.  Nay, but be in thyself sufficient; distrust, and lean not so much as an ounce-weight upon another.

These things keep and thou shalt do well; keep them all and thou wilt be perfect; the more thou keep, the more nearly wilt thou arrive at the end I proposed to thee at the commencement, and even if thou doest but one of these things thoroughly, trust me thou wilt still have much power over thy fellows.

It should be explained that Tom Bridges was a gyp at St. John’s College,during Butler’s residence at Cambridge.

Wenow come to the most eventful period in Mr. Bridges’ life: we mean the time when he was elected to the shoe-black scholarship, compared with which all his previous honours sank into insignificance.

Mr. Bridges had long been desirous of becoming a candidate for this distinction, but, until the death of Mr. Leader, no vacancy having occurred among the scholars, he had as yet had no opportunity of going in for it.  The income to be derived from it was not inconsiderable, and as it led to the porter fellowship the mere pecuniary value was not to be despised, but thirst of fame and the desire of a more public position were the chief inducements to a man of Mr. Bridges’ temperament, in which ambition and patriotism formed so prominent a part.  Latin, however, was not Mr. Bridges’ forte; he excelled rather in the higher branches of arithmetic and the abstruse sciences.  His attainments, however, in the dead languages were beyond those of most of his contemporaries, as the letter he sent to the Master and Seniors will abundantly prove.  It was chiefly owing to the great reverence for genius shown by Dr. Tatham that these letters have been preserved to us, as that excellent man, considering that no circumstance connected with Mr. Bridges’ celebrity could be justly consigned to oblivion, rescued these valuable relics from the Bedmaker, as she was on the point of using them to light the fire.  By him they were presented to the author of this memoir, who now for the first time lays them before the public.  The first was to the Master himself, and ran as follows:—

Reverende Sir,Possum bene blackere shoas, et locus shoe-blackissis vacuus est.  Makee me shoeblackum si hoc tibi placeat, precor te, quia desidero hoc locum.Your very humble servant,Thomasus Bridgessus.

Reverende Sir,

Possum bene blackere shoas, et locus shoe-blackissis vacuus est.  Makee me shoeblackum si hoc tibi placeat, precor te, quia desidero hoc locum.

Your very humble servant,Thomasus Bridgessus.

We subjoin Mr. Bridges’ autograph.  The reader will be astonished to perceive its resemblance to that of Napoleon I, with whom he was very intimate, and with anecdotes of whom he used very frequently to amuse his masters.  We add that of Napoleon.

Thomas Bridges

Napoleon

The second letter was to the Senior Bursar, who had often before proved himself a friend to Mr. Bridges, and did not fail him in this instance.

Bursare Senior,Ego humiliter begs pardonum te becausus quaereri dignitatum shoeblacki and credo me getturum esse hoc locum.Your humble servant,Thomasus Bridgessus.

Bursare Senior,

Ego humiliter begs pardonum te becausus quaereri dignitatum shoeblacki and credo me getturum esse hoc locum.

Your humble servant,Thomasus Bridgessus.

Shortly afterwards Mr. Bridges was called upon, with six other competitors, to attend in the Combination Room, and the following papers were submitted to him.

1.  Derive the word “blacking.”  What does Paley say on this subject?  Do you, or do you not, approve of Paley’s arguments, and why?  Do you think that Paley knew anything at all about it?

2.  Who were Day and Martin?  Give a short sketch of their lives, and state their reasons for advertising their blacking on the Pyramids.  Do you approve of the advertising system in general?

3.  Do you consider the Japanese the original inventors of blacking?  State the principal ingredients of blacking, and give a chemical analysis of the following substances: Sulphate of zinc, nitrate of silver, potassium, copperas and corrosive sublimate.

4.  Is blacking an effective remedy against hydrophobia?  Against cholera?  Against lock-jaw?  And do you consider it as valuable an instrument as burnt corks in playing tricks upon a drunken man?

This was the Master’s paper.  The Mathematical Lecturer next gave him a few questions, of which the most important were:—

1.  Prove that the shoe may be represented by an equation of the fifth degree.  Find the equation to a man blacking a shoe: (1) in rectangular co-ordinates; (2) in polar co-ordinates.

2.  A had 500 shoes to black every day, but being unwell for two days he had to hire a substitute, and paid him a third of the wages per shoe which he himself received.  Had A been ill two days longer there would have been the devil to pay; as it was he actually paid the sum of the geometrical series found by taking the firstnletters of the substitute’s name.  How much did A pay the substitute?  (Answer, 13s.6d.)

3.  Prove that the scraping-knife should never be a secant, and the brush always a tangent to a shoe.

4.  Can you distinguish betweenmeumandtuum?  Prove that their values vary inversely as the propinquity of the owners.

5.  How often should a shoe-black ask his master for beer notes?  Interpret a negative result.

Amongthe eminent persons deceased during the past week we have to notice Mr. Arthur Ward, the author of the very elegant treatise on the penny whistle.  Mr. Ward was rather above the middle height, inclined to be stout, and had lost a considerable portion of his hair.  Mr. Ward did not wear spectacles, as asserted by a careless and misinformed contemporary.  Mr. Ward was a man of great humour and talent; many of his sayings will be treasured up as household words among his acquaintance, for instance, “Lor!”  “Oh, ah!”  “Sech is life.”  “That’s cheerful.”  “He’s a lively man is Mr. . . . ”  His manners were affable and agreeable, and his playful gambols exhibited an agility scarcely to be expected from a man of his stature.  On Thursday last Mr. Ward was dining off beef-steak pie when a bit of gristle, unfortunately causing him to cough, brought on a fit of apoplexy, the progress of which no medical assistance was able to arrest.  It is understood that the funeral arrangements have been entrusted to our very respectable fellow-townsman Mr. Smith, and will take place on Monday.

I see a warrior ’neath a willow tree;His arms are folded, and his full fixed eyeIs gazing on the sky.  The evening breezeBlows on him from the sea, and a great stormIs rising.  Not the storm nor evening breeze,Nor the dark sea, nor the sun’s parting beamCan move him; for in yonder sky he seesThe picture of his life, in yonder cloudsThat rush towards each other he beholdsThe mighty wars that he himself hath waged.Blow on him, mighty storm; beat on him, rain;You cannot move his folded arms nor turnHis gaze one second from the troubled sky.Hark to the thunder!  To him it is not thunder;It is the noise of battles and the dinOf cannons on the field of Austerlitz,The sky to him is the whole world disturbedBy war and rumours of great wars.He tumbled like a thunderbolt from heavenUpon the startled earth, and as he cameThe round world leapt from out her usual courseAnd thought her time was come.  Beat on him, rain;And roar about him, O thou voice of thunder.But what are ye to him?  O more to himThan all besides.  To him ye are himself,He knows it and your voice is lovely to him.Hath brought the warfare to a close.The storm is over; one terrific crashNow, now he feels it, and he turns away;His arms are now unfolded, and his handsPressed to his face conceal a warrior’s tears.He flings himself upon the springing grass,And weeps in agony.  See, again he rises;His brow is calm, and all his tears are gone.The vision now is ended, and he saith:“Thou storm art hushed for ever.  Not againShall thy great voice be heard.  Unto thy restThou goest, never never to return.I thank thee, that for one brief hour aloneThou hast my bitter agonies assuaged;Another storm may scare the frightened heavens,And like to me may rise and fillThe elements with terror.  I, alas!Am blotted out as though I had not been,And am become as though I was not born.My day is over, and my night is come—A night which brings no rest, nor quiet dreams,Nor calm reflections, nor repose from toil,But pain and sorrow, anguish never ceasing,With dark uncertainty, despair and pain,And death’s wide gate before me.  Fare ye well!The sky is clear and the world at rest;Thou storm and I have but too much in common.”

Williams, I like thee, amiable divine!No milk-and-water character is thine.A lay more lovely should thy worth attendThan my poor muse, alas! hath power to lend.Shall I describe thee as thou late didst sit,The gater gated and the biter bit,When impious hands at the dead hour of nightForbade the way and made the barriers tight?Next morn I heard their impious voices sing;All up the stairs their blasphemies did ring:“Come forth, O Williams, wherefore thus supineRemain within thy chambers after nine?Come forth, suffer thyself to be admired,And blush not so, coy dean, to be desired.”The captive churchman chafes with empty rage,Till some knight-errant free him from his cage.Pale fear and anger sit upon yon faceErst full of love and piety and grace,But not pale fear nor anger will undoThe iron might of gimlet and of screw.Grin at the window, Williams, all is vain;The carpenter will come and let thee out again.Contrast with him the countenance sereneAnd sweet remonstrance of the junior dean;The plural number and the accents mild,The language of a parent to a child.With plaintive voice the worthy man doth state,We’ve not been very regular of late.It should more carefully its chapels keep,And not make noises to disturb our sleepBy having suppers and at early hoursRaising its lungs unto their utmost powers.We’ll put it, if it makes a noise again,On gatesey patsems at the hour of ten;And leafy peafy it will turn I’m sure,And never vex its own dear Sharpey more.

Scene.—The Court of St. John’s College,Cambridge.Enter the two Deans on their way to morning chapel.

Junior Dean.  Brother, I am much pleased with Samuel Butler,I have observed him mightily of late;Methinks that in his melancholy walkAnd air subdued whene’er he meeteth meLurks something more than in most other men.

Senior Dean.  It is a good young man.  I do bethink meThat once I walked behind him in the cloister;He saw me not, but whispered to his fellow:“Of all men who do dwell beneath the moonI love and reverence most the senior Dean.”

Junior Dean.  One thing is passing strange, and yet I know notHow to condemn it, but in one plain brief wordHe never comes to Sunday morning chapel.Methinks he teacheth in some Sunday-school,Feeding the poor and starveling intellectWith wholesome knowledge, or on the Sabbath mornHe loves the country and the neighbouring spireOf Madingley or Coton, or perchanceAmid some humble poor he spends the day,Conversing with them, learning all their cares,Comforting them and easing them in sickness.

Senior Dean.  I will advance him to some public post,He shall be chapel clerk, some day a Fellow,Some day perhaps a Dean, but as thou say’stHe is indeed an excellent young man—

EnterButlersuddenly,without a coat or anything on his head,rushing through the cloisters,bearing a cup,a bottle of cider,four lemons,two nutmegs,half a pound of sugar and a nutmeg grater.

Curtain falls on the confusion ofButlerand the horror-stricken dismay of the two Deans.

TheTemperance commissionersIn awful conclave sat,Their noses into this to pokeTo poke them into that—In awful conclave sat they,And swore a solemn oath,That snuff should make no Briton sneeze,That smokers all to smoke should cease,They swore to conquer both.

Forth went a great Teetotaller,With pamphlet armed and pen,He travelled east, he travelled west,Tobacco to condemn.At length to Cantabrigia,To move her sons to shame,Foredoomed to chaff and insult,That gallant hero came.

’Tis Friday: to the GuildhallCome pouring in apaceThe gownsmen and the townsmenRight thro’ the market place—They meet, these bitter foemenNot enemies but friends—Then fearless to the rostrum,The Lecturer ascends.

He cursed the martyr’d Raleigh,He cursed the mild cigar,He traced to pipe and cabbage leafConsumption and catarrh;He railed at simple bird’s-eye,By freshmen only tried,And with rude and bitter jest assailedThe yard of clay beside.

When suddenly full twenty pipes,And weeds full twenty moreWere seen to rise at signal,Where none were seen before.No mouth but puffed out gailyA cloud of yellow fume,And merrily the curls of smokeWent circling ’thro the room.

In vain th’ indignant mayor harangued,A mighty chandler he!While peas his hoary head aroundThey whistled pleasantly.In vain he tenderly inquired,’Mid many a wild “hurrah!”“Of this what father dear would think,Of that what dear mamma?”

In rushed a host of peelers,With a sergeant at the head,Jaggard to every kitchen known,Of missuses the dread.In rushed that warlike multitude,Like bees from out their hive,With Fluffy of the squinting eye,And fighting No. 5.

Up sprang Inspector Fluffy,Up Sergeant Jaggard rose,And playfully with staff he tappedA gownsman on the nose.As falls a thundersmitten oak,The valiant Jaggard fell,With a line above each ogle,And a “mouse” or two as well.

But hark! the cry is “Smuffkins!”And loud the gownsmen cheer,And lo! a stalwart JohnianComes jostling from the rear:He eyed the flinching peelers,He aimed a deadly blow,Then quick before his fist went downInspector, Marshal, Peelers, Town,While fiercer fought the joyful Gown,To see the claret flow.

They run, they run! to win the doorThe vanquished peelers flew;They left the sergeant’s hat behind,And the lecturer’s surtout:Now by our Lady Margaret,It was a goodly sight,To see that routed multitudeSwept down the tide of flight.

Then hurrah! for gallant Smuffkins,For Cantabs one hurrah!Like wolves in quest of prey they scentA peeler from afar.Hurrah! for all who strove and bledFor liberty and right,What time within the GuildhallWas fought the glorious fight.

This an adaptation of the following epigram,which appeared in Giuseppe Giusti’sRaccolta di Proverbi Toscani(Firenze, 1853)

Con arte e con inganno si vive mezzo l’annoCon inganno e con arte si vive l’altra parte.In knavish art and gathering gearThey spend the one half of the year;In gathering gear and knavish artThey somehow spend the other part.

Con arte e con inganno si vive mezzo l’annoCon inganno e con arte si vive l’altra parte.

In knavish art and gathering gearThey spend the one half of the year;In gathering gear and knavish artThey somehow spend the other part.

The following article,which originally appeared in theCambridge Magazine, 1March, 1913,is by Mr. A. T. Bartholomew,of the University Library,Cambridge,who has most kindly allowed me to include it in the present volume.Mr. Bartholomew’s discovery of Samuel Butler’s parody of the Simeonite tract throws a most interesting light upon a curious passage inThe Way of all Flesh,and it is a great pleasure to me to be able to give Butlerians the story of Mr. Bartholomew’s“find”in his own words.

Readersof Samuel Butler’s remarkable storyThe Way of All Fleshwill probably recall his description of the Simeonites (chap. xlvii), who still flourished at Cambridge when Ernest Pontifex was up at Emmanuel.  Ernest went down in 1858; so did Butler.  Throughout the book the spiritual and intellectual life and development of Ernest are drawn from Butler’s own experience.

“The one phase of spiritual activity which had any life in it during the time Ernest was at Cambridge was connected with the name of Simeon.  There were still a good many Simeonites, or as they were more briefly called ‘Sims,’ in Ernest’s time.  Every college contained some of them, but their head-quarters were at Caius, whither they were attracted by Mr. Clayton, who was at that time senior tutor, and among the sizars of St. John’s.  Behind the then chapel of this last-named college was a ‘labyrinth’ (this was the name it bore) of dingy, tumble-down rooms,” and here dwelt many Simeonites, “unprepossessing in feature, gait, and manners, unkempt and ill-dressed beyond what can be easily described.  Destined most of them for the Church, the Simeonites held themselves to have received a very loud call to the ministry . . . They would be instant in season and out of season in imparting spiritual instruction to all whom they could persuade to listen to them.  But the soil of the more prosperous undergraduates was not suitable for the seed they tried to sow.  When they distributed tracts, dropping them at night into good men’s letter boxes while they were asleep, their tracts got burnt, or met with even worse contumely.”  For Ernest Pontifex “they had a repellent attraction; he disliked them, but he could not bring himself to leave them alone.  On one occasion he had gone so far as to parody one of the tracts they had sent round in the night, and to get a copy dropped into each of the leading Simeonites’ boxes.  The subject he had taken was ‘Personal Cleanliness.’”

Some years ago I found among the Cambridge papers in the late Mr. J. W. Clark’s collection three printed pieces bearing on the subject.  The first is a genuine Simeonite tract; the other two are parodies.  All three are anonymous.  At the top of the second parody is written “By S. Butler.  March 31.”  It will be necessary to give a few quotations from the Simeonite utterance in order to bring out the full flavour of Butler’s parody, which is given entire.  Butler went up to St. John’s in October, 1854; so at the time of writing this squib he was in his second term, and 18 years of age.

A. T. B.

I.—Extracts from the sheet dated“St. John’s College,March13th, 1855.”In a manuscript note this is stated to be by Ynyr Lamb,of St. John’s(B.A., 1862).

1.  When a celebrated French king once showed the infidel philosopher Hume into his carriage, the latter at once leaped in, on which his majesty remarked: “That’s the most accomplished man living.”

It is impossible to presume enough on Divine grace; this kind of presumption is the characteristic of Heaven. . .

2.  Religion is not an obedience to external forms or observances, but “a bold leap in the dark into the arms of an affectionate Father.”

4.  However Church Music may raise the devotional feelings, these bring a man not one iota nearer to Christ, neither is it acceptable in His sight.

13.  Theonething needful is Faith: Faith = ¼ (historical faith) + ¾ (heart-belief, or assurance, or justification) 1¾ peace; and peace=LnTrust - care+joyn-r+1

18.  The Lord’s church has been always peculiarly tried at different stages of history, and each era will have its peculiar glory in eternity. . . . At the present time the trial for the church is peculiar; never before, perhaps, were the insinuations of the adversary so plausible and artful—his ingenuity so subtle—himself so much an angel of light—experience has sharpened his wit—“While men sleptthe enemy sowed tares”—he is now the base hypocrite—he suits his blandishments to all—the Church is lulled in the arms of the monster, rolling the sweet morsel under her tongue . . .

1.  Beware!  Beware!  Beware!  The enemy sowed tracts in the night, and the righteous men tremble.

2.  There are only 10 good men in John’s; I am one; reader, calculate your chance of salvation.

3.  The genuine recipe for the leaven of the Pharisees is still extant, and runs as follows:—Self-deceit ⅓ + want of charity ½ + outward show ⅓, humbug ∞, insert Sim or not as required.  Reader, let each one who would seem to be righteous take unto himself this leaven.

4.  “The University Church is a place too much neglected by the young men up here.”  Thus said the learned Selwyn,[269]and he said well.  How far better would it be if each man’s own heart was a little University Church, the pericardium a little University churchyard, wherein are buried the lust of the flesh, the pomps and vanities of this wicked world; the veins and arteries, little clergymen and bishops ministering therein; and the blood a stream of soberness, temperance and chastity perpetually flowing into it.

5.  The deluge went before, misery followed after, in the middle came a Puseyite playing upon an organ.  Reader, flee from him, for he playeth his own soul to damnation.

6.  Church music is as the whore of Babylon, or the ramping lion who sought whom he might devour; music in a church cannot be good, when St. Paul bade those who were merry to sing psalms.  Music is but tinkling brass, and sounding cymbals, which is what St. Paul says he should himself be, were he without charity; he evidently then did not consider music desirable.

7.  The most truly religious and only thoroughly good man in Cambridge is Clayton,[270]of Cams.

8.  “Charity is but the compassion that we feel for our own vices when we perceive their hatefulness in other people.”  Charity, then, is but another name for selfishness, and must be eschewed accordingly.

9.  A great French king was walking one day with the late Mr. B., when the king dropped his umbrella.  Mr. B. instantly stooped down and picked it up.  The king said in a very sweet tone, “Thank you.”

10.  The Cam is the river Jordan.  An unthinking mind may consider this a startling announcement.  Let such an one pray for grace to read the mystery aright.

11.  When I’ve lost a button off my trousers I go to the tailors’ and get a new one sewn on.

12.  Faith and Works were walking one day on the road to Zion, when Works turned into a public-house, and said he would not go any further, at the same time telling Faith to go on by himself, and saying that “he should be only a drag upon him.”  Faith accordingly left Works in the ale-house, and went on.  He had not gone far before he began to feel faint, and thought he had better turn back and wait for Works.  He suited the action to the word, and finding Works in an advanced state of beer, fell to, and even surpassed that worthy in his potations.  They then set to work and fought lustily, and would have done each other a mortal injury had not a Policeman providentially arrived, and walked them off to the station-house.  As it was they were fined Five Shillings each, and it was a long time before they fully recovered.

13.  What can 10 fools do among 300 sinners?  They can do much harm, and had far better let the sinners seek peace their own way in the wilderness than ram it down their throats during the night.

14.  Barnwell is a place near Cambridge.  It is one of the descents into the infernal regions; nay, the infernal regions have there ascended to the upper earth, and are rampant.  He that goeth by it shall be scorched, but he that seeketh it knowingly shall be devoured in the twinkling of an eye, and become withered as the grass at noonday.

15.  Young men do not seem to consider that houses were made to pray in, as well as to eat and to drink in.  Spiritual food is much more easily procured and far cheaper than bodily nutriment; that, perhaps, is the reason why many overlook it.

16.  When we were children our nurses used to say, “Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top, when the bough bends the cradle will rock.”  Do the nurses intend the wind to represent temptation and the storm of life, the tree-top ambition, and the cradle the body of the child in which the soul traverses life’s ocean?  I cannot doubt all this passes through the nurses’ minds.  Again, when they say, “Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep and doesn’t know where to find them; let them alone and they’ll come home with their tails all right behind them,” is Little Bo-peep intended for mother Church?  Are the sheep our erring selves, and our subsequent return to the fold?  No doubt of it.

17.  A child will often eat of itself what no compulsion can induce it to touch.  Men are disgusted with religion if it is placed before them at unseasonable times, in unseasonable places, and clothed in a most unseemly dress.  Let them alone, and many will perhaps seek it for themselves, whom the world suspects not.  A whited sepulchre is a very picturesque object, and I like it immensely, and I like a Sim too.  But the whited sepulchre is an acknowledged humbug and most of the Sims are not, in my opinion, very far different.

[207]This was called to my attention by a distinguished Greek scholar of this University.

[233a]The Hauenstein tunnel was not completed until later.  Its construction was delayed by a fall of earth which occurred in 1857 and buried sixty-three workmen.—R. A. S.

[233b]Mr. J. F. Harris has identified Butler’s rooms in the third court of St. John’s College.—R. A. S.

[239]As Walmisley died in January, 1856, this piece must evidently date from Butler’s first year at Cambridge.—R. A. S.

[269]William Selwyn D.D., Fellow of St. John’s Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity, died 1875.—A. T. B.

[270]Charles Clayton, M.A., of Gonville and Caius, Vicar of Holy Trinity, Cambridge, 1851–65.  Died 1883.—A. T. B.

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