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Article COLLEGE MUSINGS. ← Page 3 of 4 →
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College Musings.
word comfortable ; but , no , no , an uncomfortable logwood fire at my hotel so famous in the annals of la beau monde . But I must request the indulgent reader to retrograde with me a little over the ground , to the hour when I relinquished my quill in the very climax of my profound cogitations upon time bargains and other Stock Exchange mystifications , fairly overpowered by drowsy Somnus , into whose oblivious embraces I indolently sank to
Sleep , —that balmy bliss , Nature ' s sweet vtstort-r . Let me essay to collect my scattered ideas . If I remember rightly , my dreams were realised by the arrival of my travelling equipagevidelicet—a yellow post-chaise , the locomotives of those days ; which was to trundle me to " Dovor , " as the Kentish men like to spell it . After sundry pathetic palpitations of the vital organ on parting from mamma ' s apron stringI found myself at six o ' clock on a winter ' s
, morning in the suburbs of London , cosily ensconced in the corner of my carriage , fairly making my route to the coast . The probability appeared equal to the possibility—as we were not flying like the moderns through the air at the rate of sixty miles an hour on a narrow gaugethat we should reach our destination without breaking one ' s neck or making oneself the object of a disastrous paragraph in the newspapers . In itinere remarked from the post-io ?/—a fellow about forty—first
toiling with his jades up an acclivity—a sort of adagio movement—and then , on reaching the apex , putting a shoe on the wheel , in order that we might not go down the scale of nature allegro con spirito that the road appeared to be like life , " up hill and down dale . " The season of the year was not favourable to the country aspect . Leafless trees—rusty brown hedge-rows—ice-covered ponds , and snow-clad fields do not present a very cheerful scene to the eye of a Cockney . To be sure , Sol darted his glorious rays now and then through a murky cloud , but it only testified you were not yet out of the cloudy-foggy climate of Great
Britain . The chaise rattled through divers monotonous provincial towns , rendered more than ordinary dull and sombre the day being Sunday . O tempora quam mutantur . O mores cum ipsis quam mutantur ! What a mortal sin was committed—I tremble now at my braving the traditions of the Elders ! O the Pharisees of the Christian Church ! And O the old women ' s long faces . ' / looked about in the neighbourhood of Chatham for the formidable clothes lines mentioned in the diary of a former celebrated female traveller
, and sinner that I was , found myself safe in whole skin at Dover in the evening . The indulgent reader must not suppose that although we did not travel at railroad speed , the entire day was occupied in going from London to Dover . No , no ; we clo not date our peregrinations so far back into the times of antiquity as all that . We are content that our data shall be about the commencement of the nineteenth century . The fact is , I had well nigh omitted to state a
trifling episode that occurred in the adventure . At the ancient and venerable archiepiscopal city of Canterbury , my courier pulled up his posters at the Rose Inn , to change for the next stage , where also mv appetite pulled me up to do ample justice to most excellent fare . I could not either be so great a barbarian as not to avail myself of a fleeting hour or two to cross the street and take a peep , en passant , at the magnificent Cathedral , the undoubted work of our ancient brethren of the Masonic fraternity . It is a noble pile of Gothic architecture , as it is vulgarly called , though it came from the Fast , and is seen
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
College Musings.
word comfortable ; but , no , no , an uncomfortable logwood fire at my hotel so famous in the annals of la beau monde . But I must request the indulgent reader to retrograde with me a little over the ground , to the hour when I relinquished my quill in the very climax of my profound cogitations upon time bargains and other Stock Exchange mystifications , fairly overpowered by drowsy Somnus , into whose oblivious embraces I indolently sank to
Sleep , —that balmy bliss , Nature ' s sweet vtstort-r . Let me essay to collect my scattered ideas . If I remember rightly , my dreams were realised by the arrival of my travelling equipagevidelicet—a yellow post-chaise , the locomotives of those days ; which was to trundle me to " Dovor , " as the Kentish men like to spell it . After sundry pathetic palpitations of the vital organ on parting from mamma ' s apron stringI found myself at six o ' clock on a winter ' s
, morning in the suburbs of London , cosily ensconced in the corner of my carriage , fairly making my route to the coast . The probability appeared equal to the possibility—as we were not flying like the moderns through the air at the rate of sixty miles an hour on a narrow gaugethat we should reach our destination without breaking one ' s neck or making oneself the object of a disastrous paragraph in the newspapers . In itinere remarked from the post-io ?/—a fellow about forty—first
toiling with his jades up an acclivity—a sort of adagio movement—and then , on reaching the apex , putting a shoe on the wheel , in order that we might not go down the scale of nature allegro con spirito that the road appeared to be like life , " up hill and down dale . " The season of the year was not favourable to the country aspect . Leafless trees—rusty brown hedge-rows—ice-covered ponds , and snow-clad fields do not present a very cheerful scene to the eye of a Cockney . To be sure , Sol darted his glorious rays now and then through a murky cloud , but it only testified you were not yet out of the cloudy-foggy climate of Great
Britain . The chaise rattled through divers monotonous provincial towns , rendered more than ordinary dull and sombre the day being Sunday . O tempora quam mutantur . O mores cum ipsis quam mutantur ! What a mortal sin was committed—I tremble now at my braving the traditions of the Elders ! O the Pharisees of the Christian Church ! And O the old women ' s long faces . ' / looked about in the neighbourhood of Chatham for the formidable clothes lines mentioned in the diary of a former celebrated female traveller
, and sinner that I was , found myself safe in whole skin at Dover in the evening . The indulgent reader must not suppose that although we did not travel at railroad speed , the entire day was occupied in going from London to Dover . No , no ; we clo not date our peregrinations so far back into the times of antiquity as all that . We are content that our data shall be about the commencement of the nineteenth century . The fact is , I had well nigh omitted to state a
trifling episode that occurred in the adventure . At the ancient and venerable archiepiscopal city of Canterbury , my courier pulled up his posters at the Rose Inn , to change for the next stage , where also mv appetite pulled me up to do ample justice to most excellent fare . I could not either be so great a barbarian as not to avail myself of a fleeting hour or two to cross the street and take a peep , en passant , at the magnificent Cathedral , the undoubted work of our ancient brethren of the Masonic fraternity . It is a noble pile of Gothic architecture , as it is vulgarly called , though it came from the Fast , and is seen