In 1784 were made more class-catalogues :

"Nov. 8. Agreed to give Wilby [probably T. Wilby of St John's, B.A. 1788], the sum of five guineas for making out some class-catalogues in the Library."

'An Appendix concerning the Library and Bishop Williams' other foundations' to be found in T. Baker's History of St John's College, vol. i. pp. 208-10, has not been previously alluded to in more than quotation; nor have I ransacked, as I should, both volumes of the History for all possible benefactions, such as those of James Pilkington (p. 149); nor have I inserted the whole of the Liber Memorialis (pp. 338-42). My excuse is that those volumes are the breviary of every Johnian, who finds there whatever he will: and I cannot end better than with its name at the end of my pen and say of this book, as its author says of our other Johnian Cardinal, Cardinal Howard-claudat catalogum nomen celebre.

1 Ibid., 1088,

CAMBRIDGE SCENERY.

PY the title which I have chosen to head the following remarks, I do not refer to the natural

objects of beauty in Cambridgeshire. I have no doubt that they are properly catalogued and classified in Murray; you can buy a bicycle and see them for yourself. I have not yet exhausted the scenery which lies at my very door; when I have done this I shall invest in some knickerbockers and yellow spats and begin on the Coton grind.

It has always astonished me that, whereas so much has been written on the architecture of our town, the natural advantages of its situation have been utterly neglected. You may see Arthur's Seat in any year's Academy. Who has ever painted Castle Hill? What poet or artist has ever had taste enough to make Christ's Piece the subject of his pen or brush? The Cam flows through the town, there are Backs to the Colleges-that is the superficial knowlege of the ordinary inhabitant about the gifts which Nature has showered in our midst. True, this scenery has nothing colossal, Titanic, Alpine about it; you have to search for it, as for a rare old master hidden in some obscure corner of an art-dealer's shop. But the labour to discover the treasure enhances its value. For myself, I care nothing about mountaineering in the common sense of the word. You go to Interlaken, and you see the Jungfrau right before you. No possibility of mistaking it; no pleasurable search after its whereabouts; no exciting fear of missing it; there it is, and you have merely got to walk up to it.

If I can interest readers of the Eagle in the beauties which may indeed be obscured, but are happily not lost by the creation of men's hands, my article will not have been written in vain. One man, at least, I have so interested. I was lately entertaining my friend Jones, who had come up from town for the day to pay his first visit to Cambridge. On his arrival I took him over the Bridge of Sighs, where he stopped and put me a question-not, it would appear, with a view to information, but in a rhetorical way. He said, "Is this the river?" I replied rather severely, "This is one of our rivers." "Why," he ejaculated, "isn't the Cam-?” "Well," I answered, "as it happens this is the Cam. But there is the Pem, the Andrew, and our own river, the John. The Cam," I went on, assuming my best guidebook manner, "has the broadest bed and-well-the greatest volume of matter; but some of the other rivers -the Pem, for example-are vastly superior in all other qualities of a real river-swiftness, clearness, and amount of actual water." "But surely all your boating is done on the Cam," enquired my friend, who seemed both surprised and piqued at having displayed his ignorance of Cambridge matters. "Yes," I explained,

as a matter of fact our rowing men have specialised on the Cam. The current of the Pem is so extremely rapid as to prevent navigation, whilst our private river, the John, is reserved for the swans. We have several swans," I added proudly, seeing that Jones was now obviously impressed; "we will now go and see the swans. Originally, it is believed, they were purchased as forming a convenient rhyme to the Dons; strictly speaking, the birds should be eagles, but the Fellows refused to buy any eagles, as they are not such good eating. No other college has swans on its river; King's has a peacock, but the bird declines to float in the fountain, so that as an ornament it is a failure, and I do not believe that they ever eat the bird. But this is a digression. On the other side of the John you

see the Wilderness. The entrance for junior members of the College is by crossing the stream where it is narrowest. But the result is considered by many to be disappointing; we may content ourselves with a casual view from the exterior. independent river, but

The water to the left is not an merely a branch of the Cam which runs past that large building in the background. It has no water-fowl, and may therefore be used for boating purposes. In the May Term bumping races. are held there by Freshmen in Canadian canoes."

We then returned to the College for lunch, and afterwards set out in the direction of Trumpington Street to view the other objects of interest in the town. My guest was greatly pleased with the Pem, which is certainly very fine, as it rushes past the College to which it gives its name. He was surprised to find the road so contiguous to the river-bed, but I assured him that there was no danger, except, indeed, for ladies who happened to meet University men walking three or four abreast on the bank. A great deal of mystery, I explained, is attached to the Pem, and to its confrère the Andrew. They disappear as suddenly as their origin is obscure. It is conjectured that they unite underground, and ultimately supply the Norfolk Broads. But all attempts to trace their course by medicine bottles containing manuscript, after the approved method of testing ocean currents, have hitherto failed.

"Your rivers are indeed admirable," said my friend; "but surely the town suffers from a certain monotony of level. If it were set upon a hill, its natural charms would be complete." "It is not set upon one hill," I retorted, "simply because-like another Eternal Cityit embraces seven hills within its walls, or in the immediate neighbourhood. Strangers, unaccustomed to find their way about, may miss them; but we have them. They are Castle Hill, Mount Pleasant, Pease Hill, Market Hill, the Gogs, which count two (on a division of Term), and Alexander Hill. The panorama from

Castle Hill is very justly celebrated, comprising, as it does, a view of Ely Cathedral, the new Electric Light works, King's Chapel, and a distant prospect of Fulbourn. There is probably another eminence in the town, after which the Hill's Road is named. It is hoped that the Antiquarian Society will excavate that quarter and discover the hill's exact position, which is at present, unhappily, a matter of controversy."

By this time we had worked our way round towards the station, when my friend found that he must return to town by an earlier train than he had intended. I was sorry to lose him, as I had wished to show him our open spaces, including Parker's Piece and Midsummer Common, and then take in one or two of the principal Colleges, which no visitor to Cambridge should, if possible, omit.

RUS IN URBE.