Here is a conundrum to unravel, or a nut to crack, compared to which the _Dædalean Labyrinth_ was a farce. After so many of the learned have failed to extract the kernel, though by no means deficient in what Gall and Spurzheim would call _jawitiveness_ (as their writings will sufficiently show,) I should approach it with "fear and trembling," did I not remember the encouraging reproof of "Queen Bess" to Sir Walter Raleigh's "Fain would I climb but that I fear to fall"--so _dentals_ to the task, come what may. A new light has been thrown upon the subject of late, in an unpublished "Righte Merrie Comedie," entitled "Trinity College, Cambridge," from which I extract the following JEU DE POESIE. When first our ALMA MATER rose, Though we must laud her and love her, Nobody cares, and nobody knows, And nobody can discover: Some say a Spaniard, one CANTABER, Christen'd her, or gave birth to her, Or his daughter--that's likelier, more, by far, Though some honour king BRUTE above her. Pythagoras, beans-consuming dog, ('Tis the tongue of tradition that speaks,) Built her a lecture-room fit for a hog,[2] Where now they store cabbage and leeks: And there mathematics he taught us, they say, Till catching a cold on a dull rainy day, He packed up his _tomes_, and he ran away To the land of his fathers, the Greeks. But our ALMA MATER still can boast, Although the old Grecian would go, Of glorious names a mighty host, You'll find in Wood, Fuller and Coe: Of whom I will mention but just a few-- BACON, and NEWTON, and MILTON will do: There are thousands more, I assure you, Whose honours encircle her brow. Then long may our ALMA MATER reign, Of learning and science the star, Whether she were from Greece or Spain, Or had a king Brute for her Pa; And with OXON, her sister, for aye preside, For it never was yet by man denied, That the world can't show the like beside,-- Let echo repeat it afar! [2] The School of Pythagoras is an ancient building, situated behind St. John's College, Cambridge, wherein the _old Grecian_, says tradition, lectured before Cambridge became a university. Whether those who say so _lie_ under a mistake, as Tom Hood would say, I am not now going to inquire. At any rate, "sic transit," the building is now a barn or storehouse for garden stuff. Those who would be further acquainted with this relique of by-gone days, may read a very interesting account of it extant in the Library of the British Museum, illustrated with engravings, and written by a Fellow of Merton College, Oxford, to which society, says Wilson, in his _Memorabilia Catabrigiæ_, "it was given by Edward IV., who took it from King's College, Cambridge. It is falsely supposed to have been one of the places where the Croyland Monks read lectures."