should not sit down;' or words to a similar effect.

To do Crump justice, he does not cringe now to great people. He rather
patronizes them than otherwise; and, in London, speaks quite affably to
a Duke who has been brought up at his college, or holds out a finger
to a Marquis. He does not disguise his own origin, but brags of it with
considerable self-gratulation:--'I was a Charity-boy,' says he; 'see
what I am now; the greatest Greek scholar of the greatest College of the
greatest University of the greatest Empire in the world.' The argument
being, that this is a capital world, for beggars, because he, being a
beggar, has managed to get on horseback.

Hugby owes his eminence to patient merit and agreeable perseverance. He
is a meek, mild, inoffensive creature, with just enough of scholarship
to fit him to hold a lecture, or set an examination paper. He rose by
kindness to the aristocracy. It was wonderful to see the way in which
that poor creature grovelled before a nobleman or a lord's nephew, or
even some noisy and disreputable commoner, the friend of a lord. He used
to give the young noblemen the most painful and elaborate breakfasts,
and adopt a jaunty genteel air, and talk with them (although he was
decidedly serious) about the opera, or the last run with the hounds. It
was good to watch him in the midst of a circle of young tufts, with
his mean, smiling, eager, uneasy familiarity. He used to write home
confidential letters to their parents, and made it his duty to call upon
them when in town, to condole or rejoice with them when a death, birth,
or marriage took place in their family; and to feast them whenever they
came to the University. I recollect a letter lying on a desk in his
lecture-room for a whole term, beginning, 'My Lord Duke.' It was to show
us that he corresponded with such dignities.