The English Spy: An Original Work Characteristic, Satirical, And Humorous. C. M. Westmacott

I was proceeding to help him, when Echo inquired if he should send me the breast of a swiss {35} and the facetious Eglantine, to increase my confusion, requested to be allowed to cut me a slice off the wing of a wool bird.{36}

      31 A Paddyism is called in this university a "Thorpism" from

       Mr. Thorp, formerly a hosier of some note in the city. He

       was famous for making blunders and coining new words, was

       very fond of making long speeches, and when upon the toe, never failed to convulse his hearers with laughter. 32 Crossed in the buttery—not allowed to battel, a punishment for missing lecture. By being frequently crossed, a man will lose his term. 33 Battels—Bread, butter, cheese, salt, eggs, &c. 34 A lion—a hare. 35 Siciss—a pheasant. 36 Wing of a wool bird—Shoulder of lamb.

       To have remonstrated against this species of persecution would, I knew, only increase my difficulties; summoning, therefore, all the gaiety I was master of to my aid, I appeared to participate in the joke, like many a modern roué, laughing in unison without comprehending the essence of the whim, merely because it was the fashion. What a helpless race, old father Etona, are thine (thought I), when first they assume the Oxford man; spite of thy fostering care and classic skill, thy offspring are here little better than cawkers{37} or wild Indians. "Is there no glossary of university wit," said I, "to be purchased here, by which the fresh may be instructed in the art of conversation; no Lexicon Balatronicum of college eloquence, by which the ignorant may be enlightened?" "Plenty, old fellow," said Echo: "old Grose is exploded; but, never fear, I will introduce you to the Dictionnaire Universel,{38} which may always be consulted, at our old grandmammas' in St. Clement's, or Eglantine can introduce you at Vincent's,{39} where better known as the poor curate of H——, crossed the channel.

      37 Cawker—an Eton phrase for a stranger or novice.

       38 Dictionnaire Universel—a standing toast in the common

       room at——College.

       The origin of the toast is as follows: When Buonaparte was

       at Elba, Dr. E-, one of the wealthy senior Fellows of——

       College.

      Soon after his arrival at Paris, as he was walking through the streets of that city, he was accosted by an elegantly dressed Cyprian, to whom he made a profound bow, and told her (in English), that he was not sufficiently acquainted with the French language to comprehend what she had said to him, expressing his regret that he had not his French and English dictionary with him. Scarcely had he pronounced the word dictionary, when the lady, by a most astonishing display, which in England would have disgraced the lowest of the frail sisterhood, exclaimed, "Behold the Dictionnaire Universel, which has been opened by the learned of all nations."{39} Dr. E—, on his return from France, related this anecdote in the common room at————, and the Dictionnaire universel has ever since been a standing toast there.

      39 A well known respectable bookseller near Brazennose, who

       has published a whimsical trifle under the title of "Oxford

       in Epitome" very serviceable to freshmen. You may purchase

       "Oxford in Epitome," with a Key accompaniment explaining the

       whole art and mystery of the finished style.

       After a dissertation upon new college puddings,{40} rather a choice dish, an elegant dessert and ices was introduced from Jubbers.{41} The glass now circulated freely, and the open-hearted mirth of my companions gave me a tolerable idea of many of the leading eccentricities of a collegian's life. The Oxford toast, the college divinity, was, I found, a Miss W-, whose father is a wealthy horse-dealer, and whom all agreed was a very amiable and beautiful girl. I discovered that Sadler, Randal, and Crabbe were rum ones for prime hacks—that the Esculapii dii of the university, the demi-gods of medicine and surgery, were Messrs. Wall and Tuckwell—that all proctors were tyrants, and their men savage bull dogs—that good wine was seldom to be bought in Oxford by students—and pretty girls were always to be met at Bagley Wood—that rowing a fellow{42} was considered good sport, and an idle master{43} a jolly dog—that all tradesmen were duns, and all gownsmen suffering innocents—and lastly.

      40 New College puddings—a favourite dish with freshmen,

       made of grated biscuit, eggs, suet, moist sugar, currants

       and lemon-peel, rolled into balls of an oblong shape, fried

       in boiling fat, and moistened with brandy.

       41 A celebrated Oxford pastry-cook.

       42 Rowing a fellow—going with a party in the dead of the

       night to a man's room, nailing or screwing his oak up, so as

       it cannot be opened on the inside, knocking at his door,

       calling out fire, and when he comes to the door, burning a

       quantity of shavings, taken from halfpenny faggots dipped in

       oil from the staircase lamps, so as to impress him with an

       idea that the staircase, in which his rooms are, is on fire.

       And when he is frightened almost out of his senses, setting

       up a most hideous horse-laugh and running away. This joke

       is practised chiefly upon quiet timid men.

       43 An idle master—a Master of Arts on the foundation, who

       does not take pupils.

      I was informed that a freshman was a scamp without seasoning—and a fellow of no spirit till he had been pulled up before the big wig and suffered imposition{44} fine, and rustication.{45}

      It was now half an hour since old Magnus Thomas had tolled his heavy note, most of the party were a little cut,{46} and the salt pits of attic wit had long since been drained to the very bottom—Sparkle proposed an adjournment to the Temple of Bacchus,{47} while Echo and a man of Trinity set forth for the plains of Betteris.{48} Pleading the fatigues of the day, and promising to attend a spread{49} on the morrow to be given by Horace Eglantine, I was permitted to depart to my inn, having first received a caution from Echo to steer clear of the Don Peninsula{50} and the seat of magistracy.{51}

      On regaining my inn, I was not a little surprised to hear the smirking barmaid announce me by my christian and surname, directing the waiter to place candles for Mr. Bernard Blackmantle in the sanctum. How the deuce, thought I, have these people discovered my family nomenclature, or are we here under the same system of espionage as the puerile inhabitants of France, where every hotel-keeper, waiter, and servant, down to the very shoe-black, is a spy upon your actions, and a creature in the pay of the police{52} "Pray, waiter," said I, "why is this snug little _larium__ designated the sanctum_?"

      44 Imposition—translations set by the Principal for absence

       and other errors.

       45 Rustication is the term applied to temporary dismissal

       for non-observance of college discipline.

       46 A little cut—half seas over.

       47 Temple of Bacchus—some favourite inn.

       48 Plains of Betteris—the diversion of billiards.

       49 A spread—a wine party.

       50 The Don Peninsula—the range of all who wear long black

       hanging sleeves, and bear the name of Domini.

       51 Seat of magistracy—proctor's authority.

       52 The tact of the Oxford tradesmen in this particular is

       very ingenious.—The strength of a man's account is always

       regulated by the report they receive on his entering, from

       some college friend, respecting the wealth of his relations,

       or the weight of his expectancies.

      "Because