I do not exactly remember how I spent my time at Cambridge. I had a
piano-forte in my room, and a private billiard-room at a village two
miles off; and between these resources, I managed to improve my mind more
than could reasonably have been expected. To say truth, the whole place
reeked with vulgarity. The men drank beer by the gallon, and eat cheese
by the hundred weight--wore jockey-cut coats, and talked slang--rode for
wagers, and swore when they lost--smoked in your face, and expectorated
on the floor. Their proudest glory was to drive the mail--their mightiest
exploit to box with the coachman--their most delicate amour to leer at
the barmaid.

It will be believed, that I felt little regret in quitting companions of
this description. I went to take leave of our college tutor. "Mr.
Pelham," said he, affectionately squeezing me by the hand, "your conduct
has been most exemplary; you have not walked wantonly over the college
grassplats, nor set your dog at the proctor--nor driven tandems by day,
nor broken lamps by night--nor entered the chapel in order to display
your intoxication--nor the lecture-room, in order to caricature the
professors. This is the general behaviour of young men of family and
fortune; but it has not been your's. Sir, you have been an honour to your
college."

Thus closed my academical career. He who does not allow that it passed
creditably to my teachers, profitably to myself, and beneficially to the
world, is a narrow-minded and illiterate man, who knows nothing of the
advantages of modern education.