Note 16 — MY EDUCATION.

Mr. Hutchinson, a later provost, father of Lord Donoughmore, went into the opposite extreme; a most excellent classical scholar himself, polished and well read, he wished to introduce every elegant branch of erudition:—to cultivate the modern languages,—in short, to adapt the course to the education of men of rank as well as men of science. The plan was most laudable, but was considered not monastic enough: indeed, a polished gentleman would have operated like a ghost among those pedantic Fellows of Trinity College. Dr. Waller was the only Fellow of that description I ever saw.

Mr. Hutchinson went too far in proposing a riding-house. The scheme drew forth from Dr. Duigenan a pamphlet called “Pranceriana,” which turned the project and projector into most consummate, but very coarse and ill-natured ridicule.

Doctor Barrett, late vice-provost, dining at the table of the new provost, who lived in a style of elegance attempted by none of his predecessors, helped himself to what he thought a peach, but which happened to be a shape made of ice. On taking it into his mouth, never having tasted ice before, he supposed, from the pang given to his teeth and the shock which his tongue and mouth instantly received, that the sensation was produced by heat. Starting up, therefore, he cried out (and it was the only oath he ever uttered), “I’m scalded, by G—d!”—ran home, and sent for the next apothecary!