George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor
George Hillard, Ed.

[271] at King's in a few days, so that he is rather more than a fair specimen of their manners and learning. I dined with him in their hall, and passed the evening with him at his room, in one of those little parties the young men make up, to drink wine and have a dessert after dinner. Those I met with him were clearly above the common level, as I knew he himself was; but still, admitting them to be among the best, I was struck with the good tone that prevailed among them, their sensible and sometimes acute conversation, and their easy, gentlemanly manners. I must, too, add, that, although I saw others of his acquaintance at breakfast the next morning, and occasionally met students elsewhere, I did not find any material difference. . . . .

The second day I was in Cambridge I passed entirely with Professor Monk,¹ who went round with me all the morning, to show me the buildings and curiosities of the place. . . . . There was much pleasure in this, and I was rather sorry when dinner-time came, which is a pretty formidable thing in Cambridge. I dined to-day in the great dinner-hall of Trinity, with Professor Monk and the Fellows and Professors attached to that college. We were at a separate table with the Gentlemen Commoners, and fared very well. The mass of students was below, and a slight distinction was made in their food. I met here the Vice-Master, Renouard, Sedgwick, Judgson; the Dean, Dobree, Monk's rival in Greek; and, after dinner, went to the Combination Room, where much wine was drunk, much talk carried on. The tone of this society was certainly stiff and pedantic, and a good deal of little jealousy was apparent, in the manner in which they spoke of persons with whom they or their college or their university had come into collision. . . . . I ought to add, that we passed the evening at Mr. Sedgwick's rooms, where there were only a few persons from several different colleges, among whom better manners and a finer tact in conversation prevailed. . . . .

Herbert Marsh and Dr. Clarke were not in Cambridge. One person, however, I knew there, who was both a scholar and an accomplished gentleman, Dr. Davy, Master of Caius, to whom Lord Holland gave me letters, and from whom I received a great deal of kindness. I breakfasted with him alone, and enjoyed the variety of his conversation, always nourished with good learning, but never hardened with pedantry. . . . In the afternoon he carried me to dine with a club which originated in attachment to the fallen Stuarts, and was therefore called ‘The Family,’ but has long since become a mere dinner-party every fortnight. Six of the fourteen Masters were there, Smyth,