The rite was o'er, the abbot's words
Echoed with solemn sound.

The sword of knighthood to his side
By ladies fair was bound.

He left the church with hurried step;
To a retainer beckoned:

'Ho! vassal o'er the drawbridge hie,
And bring me forth MY SECOND!

Christmas tide had come and gone,
The holly boughs were down;
Roast beef and plum-pudding were fled,
Blancmange was out of town.

One mark of fun and of frolic
Alone remained behind:
For Master Bob in the easy chair
Uneasily reclined.

Then they sent for Doctor Bolus,
Who came and shook his head,
And said, 'I'm not at all surprised:
He must be put to bed.'

You may let him have for breakfast
Of bread and milk a bowl:
But don't forget he takes to night
A good dose of MY WHOLE.'

T. R.

OUR PICTURE GALLERY,

III. THE ENTERPRISING MAN.

THE epithet "enterprising" is, I take it, one of neutral signification: it does not, of itself, necessarily imply either commendation or censure. In the ordinary type of the enterprising man we see personified a combination of originality in the conception and audacity in the execution of a project. To produce the perfect type we must temper the above ingredients with that wholesome corrective, the rare faculty of discretion. It is to this perfect development that the word enterprise owes the laudatory force which, I admit, it frequently obtains.

But I have not here to deal with any model of perfection, but with the ordinary enterprising man as he appears upon the stage of College life. Let us begin with his pedigree. His great-grandfather's maternal uncle was an enthusiastic supporter of that ideal enthusiast William Paterson, and died at the ill-fated settlement of Darien. His great-grandfather sunk his fortune in the South Sea scheme: and as deep-sea sounding was then in its infancy, it is not surprising that he did not recover it from its watery sepulchre. Our hero's grandfather was more fortunate, or shall we say, that he possessed more of that discretion which we have commended above? However that may be, it is an ascertained fact that on the 18th of June, 1815, he invested a large sum of money in the public funds, and two days afterwards the news of the battle of Waterloo having arrived in the interval-sold out and realized a profit which made him a wealthy man for the remainder of his days. His son, our hero's father, was a shareholder in the Great Britain, the first steamship which crossed the Atlantic, and in the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, and to this day wherever the project is of the calibre of the Atlantic Telegraph, the Suez Canal or the Mont Ceuis Tunnel, there may his name be seen conspicuous upon the list of directors.

Our hero's debut upon the stage of Cambridge life is recommended rather by its novelty than by its dignity. He arrived in a horse-box attached to a luggage train, a mode of conveyance by which he had ascertained that he would save exactly thirteen minutes and a-half. By some inadvertence of the porters the (supposed) empty horse-box was shunted into a secluded siding and the door locked. The unconscious occupant, who had been asleep during this operation awoke two hours afterwards to find himself enveloped in total darkness and immured in a hopeless captivity. What was he to do? In vain were all his cries for help; it was not until ten o'clock the next morning that he was heard and released from his dungeon. Our hero was naturally a little depressed by this occurrence: and it is on record that he passed a whole day without originating a single brilliant idea. The next morning, however, his naturally sanguine spirits revived: and as he was ascending the staircase to his rooms, which were situated in the third story, he was heard to exclaim, "A lift: the inspiration of genius has not deserted me!" And the same evening he addressed a letter to the Master and Seniors suggesting that lifts should be established on every staircase. He proved that by this arrangement each Undergraduate would on the average gain 17.121 minutes per diem, and that by a judicious employment of the time so saved not less than 12:16 per cent. of the whole number plucked for Little-go would escape that undesirable consummation.

I do not know whether Cambridge life offers peculiar facilities to the enterprising man: but from this time forward it is ascertained that the improvements suggested by our hero averaged eighteen a week. That his suggestions were not accepted cannot be with justice imputed as a crime to him and if failure in the previous examination is still a not unfrequent occurrence, let those who rejected the project of the lifts bear the undivided odium of their short-sighted policy if the ditch that separates two great Colleges is still an insurmountable obstacle to those who would pass from one to the other, can we justly direct our indignation against the man whose fertile brain conceived the idea of a drawbridge, which might secure the communication during the day and be raised at night? I imagine we cannot.

There are some circumstances recorded of our hero, which would be incredible if they were not attested by the best authority. It appears that in his time, the lecturers' tables were not always provided with the choicest assortment of

pens at all events, he is said to have offered to supply each lecturer with two good pens a term for the very moderate remuneration of a half-penny. He is also said to have undertaken to furnish the college with drinkable Burton ale, at the same price as the college brew of that period: from which we unwillingly draw the irresistible inference, that the latter was not at that time the Elysian beverage with which we are acquainted. I also find an inexplicable notice that he originated a petition entitled, "For the employment of additional waiters at the undergraduates' tables on feast days." The word "undergraduates"" is in italics. Now why should additional waiters be required on feast days in particular, and why is such stress laid on the word "undergraduates""? His greatest exploit, however, seems to have been the Bread and Butter Petition; which, at his instance, was signed by the whole college, and, strangely enough, is said to have been rejected: a malicious libel (for I have no hesitation in stigmatising it as such) alleges the reason to have been that, of four statements contained in the petition, two were absolutely unfounded and two more than doubtful.

His ingenuity in private life was not less conspicuous. His eminent services to the College at length procured him the graceful recognition of a double set of rooms. He was accustomed to pass the greater part of his time in the inner room: there it was that he gave free rein to his fancy, and allowed it to soar aloft like a winged courser, far beyond the range of human vision. This practice of his was liable to the slight disadvantage, that his friends constantly came into his outer room and went away under the impression that he was out. How was this to be obviated? A brilliant idea occurred to him. He succeeded, after several days' patient labour, in establishing a communication between the outer door and the door of his inner sanctum, by a system of cords and pulleys, so constructed that the one door could not be opened without the other, as by a magnetic sympathy, following its example. This precaution, one would have thought, would be sufficient: but to make assurance doubly sure, he contrived that a heavy weight should descend on the head of the person entering: this naturally elicited a shriek proportionate in its intensity to the momentum of the weight, and our hero was at once certified of the arrival of the new-comer. Whether his friends continued to visit him with the same affectionate frequency as before, is a question that need not here be entered into: although I cannot but think that our hero's contrivance might be adopted with

advantage by certain of my acquaintance, who are anxious to read hard for their approaching degree.

I believe it was in our hero's second Long, that he obtained leave from the proper authorities to erect a hammock-bed upon the College lawn, and there recline under the shade of a wide-spreading elm. I suppose it must be attributed to his extensive experience of camp life-he was an enthusiastic volunteer-that he found such a peculiar charm in devoting a blazing hot afternoon to the following operation. It is two o'clock; a well-known form is seen to emerge from the gate of the court, and proceed, hammock on shoulder and hammer in hand, to the blissful spot where the interwoven shadows of a branching tree flicker over the verdant greensward. The hammer begins its work: one stake is laboriously driven into the ground: the happy labourer swelters in the hot sun: he pauses to rest and recover his breath. Again the work begins; a second stake is driven in the third and the fourth follow in due course. The hammock is adjusted, and our hero deposits his wearied frame therein. It is just half-past three: he will still have an hour, in which to recover from his self-imposed fatigue. But hark! A sudden crack is followed by a crash of falling greatness; the frail edifice collapses, and the genius that conceived the plan, is buried in the ruins, of the treacherous structure. The next half-hour is spent in repairing damages, and after fully twenty minutes' undisturbed enjoyment of his well-earned repose, our hero proceeds to hall under the impression that he has passed a very pleasant afternoon.

I have said that our hero was a volunteer. Now it so happened that the College company had fallen to a very low ebb in point of strength and efficiency, and he undertook to regenerate it. This he saw at once could only be accomplished by bold and startling measures. He was soon proved to be equal to the emergency. Buying up a large number of second-hand uniforms, he offered a uniform and a bounty of a sovereign to each recruit. The inducements thus held out were in some degree successful: but further instigation was still needed. Our hero instituted a system of room-to-room visits, and where he could not persuade by bribes, he offered to fight the recusants. This settled the question: crowds of recruits thronged with patriotic ardour to the standard of their country: and even reading men who had grudged the very hour which they devoted to exercise, rushed emulously to arms: for upon a careful calculation they decided that they would lose more time by the con