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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Rowlandson's Oxford - -Author: A. Hamilton Gibbs - -Illustrator: Thomas Rowlandson - -Release Date: June 16, 2013 [EBook #42960] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive.) - - - - - - - - - -ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - - -[Illustration: FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH.] - - - - - ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - BY A. HAMILTON GIBBS - (ST JOHN'S COLLEGE) - - - LONDON - KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. LTD. - 1911 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - CHAPTER I THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools-- - Manhood--Lonely freshers--The "pi" man--The newcomer's - metamorphosis--The Lownger's day--Regrets at being down 1-8 - - CHAPTER II THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and "easy pads"--Farewell to - parents--A forlorn animal--Terrae Filius's advice--Much - prayers--"Hell has no fury like a woman scorned"--The - disadvantages of a conscience 9-17 - - CHAPTER III THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker-- - Colman and the Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford - manner--_Homunculi Togati_--Academia and a mother's - love--The jovial father--Underground dog-holes and - shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night 18-28 - - CHAPTER IV THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne's coffee-house and the _billet doux_-- - Tick--Liquor capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_-- - Latin odes for tradesmen only 29-38 - - CHAPTER V THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven-- - The President under her thumb--Amhurst's table of cons.-- - King Charles and the other place 39-45 - - CHAPTER VI THE SERVITOR - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors 46-54 - - CHAPTER VII SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper's--Southey at Balliol--Cox's six-oared - crew--The river-side barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes - against games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses - and badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights-- - Paniotti's Fencing Academy--Old-time "bug-shooters"-- - Skating in Christ Church meadows--Cricket and the - Bullingdon Club--Walking tours 55-68 - - CHAPTER VIII CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the "Lunatics"--The - Constitution Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and - minutes--High Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers 69-82 - - CHAPTER IX WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen-- - The "Vindication"--Opposing and responding--"Schemes"-- - Doing austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents-- - Magdalen collections 83-94 - - CHAPTER X 'VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson's _Oxford Journal_-- - Domestic intelligence--Election poems--Curious - advertisements--Superabundance of St John's editors-- - Terrae Filius 95-108 - - CHAPTER XI 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Student_--Cambridge included--Its design--The female - student--Poem by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury's - letter--The manly woman 109-121 - - CHAPTER XII 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to - the _Cozeners_, written by Garrick--Visions, fables, and - moral tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789 122-135 - - CHAPTER XIII 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet_--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford_-- - _The Oxford Act_--_The Oxford Sausage_--Present and latter - day literature summed up 136-141 - - CHAPTER XIV THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student's_ opinion of one--A tradesman's poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties-- - Tradesmen's taste in literature--Advertising and _The - Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, innkeeper--Amhurst's - confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts 142-152 - - CHAPTER XV THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr - Newton on tutors' fees--Dr Johnson's recommendation of - Bateman--Public lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham - man's letter 153-162 - - CHAPTER XVI THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining-- - College Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the - Magdalen Dons--Heads of colleges--Their domestic and - public character--Golgotha and Ben Numps--St John's head - pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and Randolph 163-174 - - CHAPTER XVII THE DON--(continued) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of - a degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from - Black Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Isaac Walton and - the senior Proctor--Amhurst's character sketch of a - certain Proctor 175-183 - - CHAPTER XVIII CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards - and claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered - afterwards--Edward Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism - towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman Catholic--Subsequent - apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking orders--Germs of - ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism 184-198 - - CHAPTER XIX CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work-- - Oxford kills his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel - Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely freshman--Translates Pope's - _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from poverty--Dr Adam, his - tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of showing - off--His love of Pembroke 199-210 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH _Frontispiece_ - - VIEW OF ST MARY'S CHURCH AND RADCLIFFE LIBRARY _To face page_ 9 - - COLLEGE SERVICE " 15 - - A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE, ETC., AT OXFORD " 19 - - BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD " 30 - - MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE QUADRANGLE " 40 - - A 'VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN " 45 - - VIEW OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE " 53 - - NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON'S STUDY AT OXFORD " 59 - - A DUCK HUNT " 66 - - A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS' COLLEGE " 74 - - THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN " 92 - - OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING " 133 - - A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD " 160 - - MERTON COLLEGE " 177 - - STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH " 193 - - - - -FOREWORD - - -The task of writing a book on Oxford University is by no means an easy -one. If it be a novel there are countless pitfalls to entrap the -author--points small and inconsequent to the reader who cannot proudly -claim the City of Spires as his Alma Mater, but irritating beyond -description to the man who knows and loves Oxford. - -But if modern Oxford dealt with from the romantic and sentimental point of -view as the background of a story contains such a network of difficulties, -the Oxford of two hundred years ago, Rowlandson's Oxford, contains them -multiplied a hundred times, because it now becomes a question not of -reproducing the vivid pictures of the hour and moment, but of recreating -the atmosphere of a time that is silent in death. - -It is, therefore, with great diffidence that I have attempted to -resuscitate the life and moods of Oxford of the eighteenth century. Barely -two years have elapsed since the days when I looked out from my windows -into the quad of my college. All the work and play, the alarums and -excursions which go to form the life of the average Undergraduate have not -yet had time to fade into dim, half forgotten memories. Alma Mater still -grasps me in her warm hand. So vivid indeed are all the impressions which -I received from the friendly gargoyles and the peace-touched lawns, the -beautiful colleges with their silent cloisters, the full-blooded -twenty-firsters and bump-suppers, and the thousand and one everyday -happenings, that I might be merely awaiting the passing of vacation to go -up once more. - -With all the Undergraduate interests still so strongly at heart, I think -that it is natural that I should have studied the Rowlandson period with -the mind of the Undergraduate and have carried out my task from the -Undergraduate point of view. It is difficult to give any idea of the -quaintness, delight, and amusement caused by going back two hundred years -to a University so like and so unlike--like, in that the men, although so -different outwardly, had practically the same ideas as we have and carried -them out in the same colleges, even in the same rooms, in a precisely -similar manner; unlike in that the Dons were a breed of men differing in -every respect from those who look after us to-day. - -Working, then, on the hypothesis that Oxford men in Rowlandson's time were -identical with ourselves, I have drawn analogies between every step in the -lives of both. I have endeavoured to show that from the beginning of their -fresherdom, when they felt self-conscious, _gauche_, and timid, down to -the days when they took their degrees and knew Oxford blindfold in all her -moods and tenses, they possessed the same outlook, had the same -aspirations and ambitions, and were filled with the same admiration and -love of Alma Mater as the men of to-day. For instance, as a freshman the -Georgian Undergraduate curiously watched the seniors who were responsible -for the tone of their college. Gradually he sloughed both his nervousness -and his un-Oxford wardrobe and began to assert his own individuality. -Little by little he discovered new sides of Oxford life, new haunts in -which he began to feel at home. Daily he made new acquaintances who, as -time went by, ripened into friends. Eventually, by the end of his first -year, he had so absorbed Oxford into his personality that he in turn was -able to condescend to the next year's arrivals. During this time his -attitude towards the Dons, the statutes, the schools--to everything, in -short, outside the immediate Undergraduate side of life--varied with the -terms. At the beginning they were subjects only to be broached with awe -and deliberation. But the more he came into contact with an ever -increasing circle of friends, the sooner his respect changed into -ridicule, disgust, and finally, when a senior, into amused toleration. - -In précis form such was the development of the eighteenth-century -Undergraduate. His metamorphosis into a "blood," with all its amusing -accompaniments and accomplishments--the former consisting of the latest -fashions in clothes and the _entrée_ to the innermost recesses of the -Maudlin Groves in the company of the most celebrated Oxford damsel; the -latter of a facility for dashing off a well thought out extempore series -of oaths, being the handiest man at a tea-table, drinking more than any -other buck of his acquaintance before finally succumbing, to follow in the -natural sequence of events according to the temperament of the freshman. -Had he a leaning towards becoming a "blood" not only was there nothing to -stop him, but, on the contrary, all the existing conditions were such as -to facilitate the execution of his desires. - -In all these phrases the old-time Undergraduate can be compared with his -modern brothers. In his dealings with the river-side barmaids, the local -tradesmen, and the proctors he pursued much the same ingenuous methods -which are used with equal success to-day. Just as we become members of -unlimited numbers of year clubs and settle the affairs of the entire human -species at the nightly meetings with ease and eloquence, they, too, formed -societies and took themselves with a similar seriousness. They contributed -literary morsels to the Undergraduate papers which satirised existing -institutions in the same youthful manner in which we satirise them. They -conducted "rags" with a thoroughness and disregard of results which ended -in the same speedy rustication of the ringleaders which inevitably -overtakes the men who are still unwise enough to be found out. - -In a word, my object has been not to compare the ethics of the university -to-day with those of yesterday, but rather to set forth an analogy between -Dons and Undergraduates of that period and this, and the business of their -daily life, from the point of view of one upon whom the influence of Alma -Mater has not yet been mellowed into an analytical remembrance by long -contact with the world which lies beyond her spires. - -Whether I have succeeded in proving my case remains to be seen. At least I -venture to hope that the results of my work may form a frame for -Rowlandson's pictures which are here reproduced for the first time from -Rowlandson's original water-colour drawings. - -Of these pictures many were engraved at the time in aquatint, but the -engraver was as a rule so obsessed with the Georgian ideas of the -beautiful in architecture that he practically reconstructed the majority -of the buildings represented, in accordance with that idea, so that some -of the most beautiful and characteristic buildings in Oxford and -Cambridge, so delicately portrayed by Rowlandson's pencil, are turned into -rectangular monstrosities, the like of which was never seen in either -university town. - -The superiority of hand-engraving over modern processes is evident enough, -when the engraving itself was made by the artist; but when the original -drawing is so hopelessly misrepresented as is the case with many of the -aquatints of Rowlandson's drawings, the modern facsimile processes have -their obvious advantages. - -It is therefore claimed that Rowlandson's drawings of Oxford are here -reproduced for the first time, and it is believed that they will be a -revelation to many who have hitherto looked upon Rowlandson merely as a -somewhat gross caricaturist. The caricaturist, it is true, is still here -depicting in the foregrounds characteristic scenes in the university life -of the time, but here is also another Rowlandson with an appreciation of -the beauties of Oxford rare indeed in his age, and one who is able to -delineate them with accuracy and delicacy which have seldom been equalled -in the portrayal of such subjects. - -The author desires to express his gratitude to the Rev. Christopher -Wordsworth for having very kindly granted him permission to make -quotations from "Social Life in the English Universities"; and to Messrs -Macmillan & Co., publishers of J. R. Green's "Oxford Studies," for -allowing him to make two quotations from that book; and also to Mr R. S. -Rait of the Oxford Historical Society for having permitted him to quote -from Miss L. Quiller-Couch's "Reminiscences of Oxford," published by that -society. - - - - -ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools--Manhood--Lonely - freshers--The "pi" man--The newcomer's metamorphosis--The Lownger's - day--Regrets at being down. - - -How few of us there are to-day who ever devote even the slack hour between -tea and "hotters" and Hall to finding out something at least about the -Undergraduates who had our rooms two centuries ago. Yet to every man the -word Oxford conjures up vast vague shadows from the past which make him as -a freshman tread softly and with reverence through the quads and gardens, -High Streets and by-streets of the City of Spires. Great names rise up -into our minds and fill us with wonder, but the scout knocks at our door -with half-cold food and our dreams dissolve into irritated reality. There -may come a moment, perhaps, when, with feet at rest upon the mantel-shelf -and a straight-grained pipe bubbling in quiet response between our teeth, -we are deafening our ears to the call of bed, the slow-flowing -conversation drifts by chance to a casual query as to what our -predecessors did at the same hour two hundred years ago. Beyond a few more -or less unimaginative surmises we remain in ignorance, blissful and -uncaring, believing them to be strange-clothed beings of stilted language -and curious habits, and at once the talk turns to present and more -pleasant topics. We little think that to all intents and purposes we are -almost exactly the same as our old-time-brethren. - -To-day we row, play cricket, football, tennis, golf; we cut our lectures -when we safely can and "binge" at every opportunity. Schools do occupy us, -it is true, but as a mere secondary item in the university scheme of -things--and rightly so. A degree, however good, does not, by itself, make -men of us and teach us how to live. It is the social life of the -university which is the real education and which sends us out into the -world ready to face anything and everything. By developing our bodies we -develop our minds, and in this programme of athletics and sociability we -are a replica of our eighteenth-century brethren. They rose about nine, -breakfasted at ten, and dallied away the morning with a flute or the -latest French comedy. By way of strenuous exercise, necessitated by a -climate which was just as evil then as now, they walked, rode, rowed, or -skated, and in the evening figured at the Mitre or Tuns where they made -merry into the small hours with beer, claret, or punch. - -To them schools were much less a source of worry than they are to us, for, -beyond attending occasional disputations and an odd lecture or so, when a -Don could be persuaded to give one, they obtained their degree by the -simple but expensive process of drinking the examiner--usually a hardened -toper--under the table overnight. He was then led, in the morning, while -still pleasantly fuddled, to the schools, and there, in consideration of a -respectable douceur, he signed away the necessary papers with a beaming -and self-satisfied smile. They knew nothing of the humours of white ties, -dark suits, and a week's terrible strain to get a First in Honour -Mods--before the Finals are even thought of. The shivering crowds waiting -in the Hall to be led to the slaughter did not exist in those days. A -Trinity man named Skinner, who matriculated in 1790, flung himself at the -subject in satirical verse:-- - - "Enter we next the Public Schools - Where now a death-like stillness rules; - Yet these still walls in days of yore - Back to the streets returned the roar of hundreds.... - But since their champion Aristotle - Has been deserted for the bottle - The benches stand like Prebends' stalls - Lone and deserted 'gainst the walls."[1] - -No sooner have we finished with our public school days, when we are known -as boys, and have either scrambled over the "Smalls" hedge with some -humility and relief, or else have secured the privilege of lording it in a -scholar's gown, than we instantly become men. We may be anything between -eighteen and twenty, but if a sister, brother, or cousin be unwary enough -to refer to us as a boy--woe unto him or her! We may pretend that we do -not mind, but in our heart of hearts we rejoice in being Oxford "men," and -guard our title jealously. We are not, however, unique in this. It is a -habit which has come down to us from the eighteenth century when they were -just as jealous of such points of etiquette. - -George Colman the younger tells us that he came upon two freshmen of that -time who had had a quarrel. Six months before they blacked each other's -eyes at Westminster in the good old British way. Now, however, being -Oxford men, they could not descend to such a childish level, but agreed to -afford each other "gentlemanly satisfaction." They may have lacked a -certain sense of humour, but it was the right spirit, and it is safe to -conclude that they both did well at their respective colleges. - -The lonely freshman of to-day who has no friends already in residence -wanders round just as nervously and makes the same _faux pas_ as did his -predecessors. It takes him just as long to find his feet and settle down -and make friends. Exactly in the same way also if he knows men already up -he is welcomed by them, invited to heavy breakfasts and put right on -matters of etiquette: such as never by any chance to wear square and gown -unless absolutely compelled to--and all the other minutiæ which are of -such importance. In the eighteenth century a freshman was taken by his -senior friends to the Mitre and sat in front of a bowl of punch with brown -toast bobbing in it. He heard sonnets recited to the eyelashes of Sylvia. -He was taught to drink on his knees to Phyllis or Chloe, or some other -fair female of the moment. He was taken to the barber's and shown how to -wear a wig instead of his own hair. In fact, his feet were set in the -proper path then in just the same friendly spirit as now. - -They had their clubs and societies at which, in the intervals of drinking, -they indicted Latin poems or discussed some important political question -where we, over mulled claret and other comestibles, read papers on "The -Abolition of the Halfpenny Press," or "The Glories of Tariff Reform." They -had big dinners, and tried to find their way home in the small hours. We -have our fresher's wines and bump suppers in which the whole college -participates with the sole object of enjoying good wine and destroying -good furniture, and we crawl home, if we are outside college, through the -same streets. To-day we have the "pi" man who sternly refuses to -countenance such evil things as fresher's wines; who has signed the pledge -and eschews tobacco. If he is compelled by an outraged band of senior men -to lend his presence against his better judgment, and is led out from a -room in a state of Doré-like chaos, he becomes uproarious on a glass of -water and two bananas, and writes home to his mother that his bill for -repairs is enormous owing to his bravery in being a martyr to his -principles, and that drunkenness is on the increase among the -Undergraduates. All the same he thoroughly enjoys himself, and in time -wears off rough corners and learns how to keep his vows without any -objectionable fanfare. At the end of the eighteenth century a man of this -kidney named Crosse wrote to his mother: "Oxford is a perfect hell upon -earth. What chance is there for an unfortunate lad just come from school -with no one to watch and care for him--no guide? I often saw my tutor -carried off perfectly intoxicated." I can see the man crouching in a dark -corner of the quad appalled at the sight of his fellows dancing round a -bonfire, while his tutor rushes by on the arms of a festive crowd in full -rejoicing at some college triumph. It would be interesting to ascertain -Crosse's views at the end of his university career. He remained, however, -in the obscurity of mediocrity. - -Our trousseau when we first appear at the university consists of modest -socks and humble waistcoats, and ties which make no claim to originality -or even to smartness. They are content to be merely useful and to fulfil -their appointed functions. But does not every parent learn subsequently, -with dreadful results to his peace of mind, how after our first month we -make our way unerringly to the tailors and clothiers, and there with -deadly earnestness absorb colour schemes which cry a loud challenge to -Joseph's coat? Our waistcoats are dreams,--sometimes nightmares; the -blending of harmony between shirt, tie, and socks is as perfect as the -rainbow. Our hair, which used to be parted carelessly down one side, now -disdains partings and goes straight back in one beautiful Magdalen sweep. -Our trousers are thrown at the scout's head as a gift unless they be of -unparalleled width and of exceptional crease. - -This tendency to burst forth into strange and variegated garments in token -of our emancipation from apron strings was just as strong in the old days. -The sons of country farmers came trooping into Oxford, their clouted shoes -thick with good red earth, in linsey wolsey coats, with greasy, uncombed -heads of hair flapping in the wind. Their stockings were of coarse yarn, -and they knew nothing better than to have long muslin neckcloths run with -red at the ends. But they soon realised the contempt in which they were -held for this dull chrysalis-like appearance. After a few weeks these -shamefaced clodhoppers sneaked into the side door of the barbers' shops to -emerge proudly by the front entrance in a bob wig. Their clouted shoes -were relegated to young brothers, and they wore new ones--Oxford cut. -Their yarn stockings gave place to worsted, until, after a very short -interval between their arrival and their settling down, they blushed out -like butterflies in tye wigs and ruffles and silk gowns. The "blood" of -that period, or, as the term then was, the "smart," or the "buck of the -first head," was distinguished when he aired his person, Amhurst told us, -"by a stiff silk gown which rustles in the wind as he struts along; a -flaxen tye wig, or sometimes a long natural one which reaches down below -his rump; a broad bully cock'd hat, or a square cap of above twice the -usual size; white stockings, thin Spanish leather shoes; his cloaths lined -with tawdry silk, and his shirt ruffled down the bosom as well as at the -wrists. Besides all which marks, he has a delicate jaunt in his gait, and -smells philosophically of essence." - -How his direct descendant, the Bullingdon man, must envy him his -magnificent opportunities of making a brave show! Not for him the silk -gown, the bully cocked hat. The best he can do in imitation is the amazing -dinner jacket which he sometimes sports at the theatre, under which one -finds not the accepted form of dress shirt but a peculiar form of -abortion which is neatly ruffled at "bosom and wrists." In place of the -Spanish leather shoes the last word to-day is apparently buckskin. The -"delicate jaunt in the gait" has been retained--the result being caused -now by a union of "Eton slouch" and "Oxford manner." The head still smells -of essence--honey and flowers at Hatt's, brilliantine at Martyr's. These -great-minded people think alike not only in point of dress but of the -manner of killing time. "The Lownger" summed up the process as carried out -in the eighteenth century-- - - "I rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten, - Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen, - Read a play till eleven or cock my lac'd hat, - Then step to my neighbour's, till dinner to chat. - Dinner over to Tom's or to James's I go, - The news of the town so impatient to know, - While Low, Locke and Newton and all the rum race - That talk of their Modes, their ellipses and space, - The Seat of the Soul and new Systems on high, - In Halls as abstruse as their mysteries lie. - From the coffee-house then I to Tennis away, - And at five I post back to my College to pray, - I sup before eight and secure from all duns, - Undauntedly march to the Mitre or Tuns, - Where in Punch or good Claret my sorrows I drown, - And toss off a bowl to the best in the town. - At one in the morning I call what's to pay? - Then home to my College I stagger away. - Thus I tope all the night as I trifle all day." - -Every one knows the various processes of slacking at the present time, so -that there is no need for detail. But in essence the method is the same, -and the result also. Our lunches at the Cherwell Hotel, at the riverside -inns at Iffley and Abingdon; our "Grinds"; our slacking on the river in -summer term--all these were done two centuries ago, and, just as some of -the more energetic of us seek to immortalise these doings by contributing -poems and articles to the 'varsity papers, so did the Undergraduates then -send their sonnets and Latin verses to _The Student_, the _Oxford -Magazine_, and Jackson's _Oxford Journal_. In place of the musical comedy -lady, whose silvery laughter floats down wind to-day, the Oxford toast -flaunted it right merrily in the old days. The gownsmen's tobacco accounts -then amounted to quite as much as ours do, and they wrote home for further -supplies of pocket money in almost the identical terms which we use -to-day. Yesterday's and to-day's Oxford men are one and the same. Oxford -herself and her Dons are changed, but the Undergraduate goes on doing and -thinking the same things in the same way, and when he goes down now he -feels very much as felt the eighteenth-century poet who, also down, -sang:-- - - "Could Ovid, deathless bard, forbear, - Confin'd by Scythia's frozen plains, - Cease to desire his native air - In softest elegiac strains? - Cursed with the town no more can I - For Oxford's meadow cease to sigh.... - Can I, while mem'ry lasts, forget - Oxford, thy silver rolling stream, - Thy silent walks and cool retreat - Where first I sucked the love of fame? - E'en now the thought inspires my breast - And lulls my troubled soul to rest." - -[Illustration: VIEW OF ST. MARY'S CHURCH & RADCLIFFE LIBRARY.] - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and "easy pads"--Farewell to parents--A - forlorn animal--Terrae Filius's advice--Much prayers--"Hell has no - fury like a woman scorned"--The disadvantages of a conscience. - - -The beginning of our university career is marked, unless we be Stoics, by -mixed feelings of elation and a sinking at the pit of the stomach which we -afterwards learn to recognise as "needle." The train journey may have -seemed long, but at this first breathless moment when the porter receives -our goods and chattels into his arms from the top of the moribund hansom, -we could almost wish that we were back in the train again. A sense of -isolation, and of having to stand or fall by ourselves, sweeps over like a -tidal wave, leaving us momentarily chilled and nervous. - -How different was the fresher's arrival in the eighteenth century. He -boarded a coach in the early morning in London. His baggage was placed in -the boot, and the traveller, armed to the teeth with blunderbuss and -pistols, took his seat. With a clattering of hoofs, yelling of ostlers and -merry tooting on the horn, the coach dashed out of the yard and wound -merrily along throughout the day by field, village, and town. If the -journey were a lucky one, the travellers arrived at Oxford without let or -hindrance about six o'clock in the evening, when they were able to catch a -first glimpse of the top of Radcliffe's Library. They then jolted in over -Magdalen Bridge--in those days the new bridge--and so made their way to -their respective colleges. - -Wrapped up in thick coats and with ice-cold feet tapping the side of the -coach to restore circulation, the excited fresher had ample time for -cogitation. The lets and hindrances, over and above the ordinary accidents -to horse or vehicle, such as casting a shoe or breaking a strap, were -little excitements in the form of footpads and highwayman, who infested -the district on the look-out for a fat and likely college bursar laden -with fat and likely money-bags. At the first hint of the approach of one -of these gentlemen of the road, blunderbusses were whipped out and fired -in all directions, while the horses were lashed and the coach leaned and -rocked and swayed in its efforts to get away. Afterwards, ensconced behind -a tankard in the Tuns among his somewhat condescending senior friends, the -newcomer warmed up under the influence of hot toddy and genial society, -and described the awful onslaught made upon them by at least fifty mounted -desperadoes. - -Did he come from nearer places than London, then he made his entrance on a -sedate horse, in the fashion of the gentleman-commoner who sent the -following account to Terrae Filius:-- - - "Being of age to play the fool - With muckle glee I left our school - At Hoxton, - And mounted on an easy pad - Rode with my mother and my dad - To Oxon." - -This merry bard was not exempt from the pangs of loneliness. He, too, felt -the wave of depression when his mother and dad kissed him and slowly -disappeared down the street again on their easy pads. For, after an -amusing description of purchasing gown and square, he burst into tears. - - "I sallied forth to deck my back - With loads of Tuft and black - Prunello. - My back equipt, it was not fair - My head should 'scape, and so as square - As chessboard - A cap I bought, my scull to screen, - Of cloth without and all within - Of pasteboard - When metamorphos'd in attire - More like a parson than a squire - th' had dressed me - I took my leave with many a tear - Of John our man, and parents dear - Who blessed me...."[2] - -and there he was, poor lad, probably no more than fifteen years old--of -age to play the fool--left, lachrymose and solitary, to fight his own -battles and win his M.A. spurs before coming to grips with the world. - -George Colman the younger, who matriculated at the House in 1780, and who -would most certainly have been instantly elected to the Bullingdon Club -had he gone up to-day, wrote most feelingly on the question of the lonely -fresher. "A Freshman, as a young academician is call'd on his admission at -Oxford," he said "is a forlorn animal. It is awkward for an old stager in -life to be thrown into a large company of strangers, to make his way among -them, as he can--but to the poor freshman everything is strange--not only -College society, but any society at all--and he is solitary in the midst -of a crowd. If, indeed, he should happen to come to the University -(particularly to Christ Church) from one of the great publick schools, he -finds some of his late school fellows, who, being in the same straggling -situation with himself, abridge the period of his fireside loneliness, -and of their own, by forming a familiar intercourse--otherwise he may mope -for many a week; at all events, it is generally some time before he -establishes himself in a set of acquaintance."[3] - -To-day when we have conquered Smalls and our rooms have been assigned in -college or in the house of some licensed landlady, it is customary for our -"parents dear" to lead us gently by the buttonhole into the study, and -there, with their coat tails spread wide to the blazing logs, to hold -forth in rounded periods what is termed sound advice. When it is over they -shake hands with us, both of us swallowing absurdly, and we go forth -better friends than ever. In the first number of any one of the 'varsity -"rags" for the new academic year it is safe to conclude that the "leader" -will be a word of explanation, advice, friendship, or welcome to the -newcomer. It is always facetious and invariably has a gentle dig at the -fresher's expense, though the writer, once a fresher himself, should know -better. The following is a specimen of how these things were done in the -old days:-- - - "_Wednesday, May 1, 1721._ - - "To all gentlemen School-Boys, in his majesty's dominions, who are - design'd for the University of Oxford, Terrae Filius sends greetings; - - "MY LADS,--I am so well acquainted with the variety and malapertness - of you sparks, as soon as you get out of your schoolmaster's hands, - that I know I shall be called a fusty old fellow, and a thousand - ridiculous names besides, for presuming to give advice, which I would - not, say you, take, if I was a young fellow myself. But being a very - public-spirited person, and a great well wisher to my fellow subjects - (whatever you may think of me) I am resolved, whether you mind what I - am going to say, or not, to lay you down some rules and precautions - for your conduct in the university, on the strict observation or - neglect of which your future good or ill fortune will depend; and, I - am sure that you will thank me, six or seven years hence, for this - piece of service, however troublesome and impertinent you may think it - now.... - - "I observe, in the first place, that you no sooner shake off the - authority of the birch, but you affect to distinguish yourselves from - your dirty school-fellows by a new suit of drugget, a pair of prim - ruffles, a new bob wig, and a brazen-hilted sword; in which tawdry - manner you strut about town for a week or two before you go to - College, giving your selves airs in coffee-houses and booksellers' - shops, and intruding your selves into the company of us men; from all - which, I suppose you think your selves your own master, no more - subject to controul or confinement--alas! fatal mistake! soon will you - confess that the tyrrany of a school is nothing to the tyrrany of a - college; nor the grammar-pedant to the academical one; for, what - signifies a smarting back-side to a bullied conscience? What was Busby - in comparison to D-e-l-ne? - - "And now, young gentlemen, give me leave to put on my magisterial - face, and to instruct you how you are to demean yourselves in the - station you are entered into, and what sort of behaviour is expected - from you, according to the oaths and these subscriptions. - - "I know very well that you go thither prepossessed with a sanguine - (but ignorant) opinion, that you are to hold fast your principles, - whatever they are; that you are to follow, what in your conscience you - think right, and to desclaim what you think wrong, that this is the - only way to thrive in the world, and to be happy in the next, just as - your silly mothers and superstitious old nurses have taught you: in - the first place, therefore, I advise you to disengage your selves from - all such scrupulous notions; for you may take my word for it, that - otherwise it is a million to one that you miscarry. - - "For, it is a maxim as true as it is common, so many men, so many - minds: but amongst all the different opinions of mankind there is - never, at any one time, but one of those opinions which is call'd - orthodox; if, therefore, you give your fancy the reins and let your - own judgment determine your opinions, what infinite odds is it, - whether you happen to hit upon that single, individual opinion, which - is, at that particular crisis of time, in vogue, and which is - therefore your interest to espouse? But if with all your diligence and - sincerity, you should miss this _rara avis_, this happy phoenix - opinion, then farewell to all your future prospects, to your ease, - your reputation and good name for ever afterwards; I mean, if you are - so weak, and so much bigotted with education, as to think it your duty - to profess what you cannot help believing. - - "Your only safe way therefore is to carry along with you consciences - _chartes blanches_, ready to receive any impression that you please to - stamp upon them; for I would not have you adopt any particular system, - however popular and prevailing it may seem to be at present, because - it may alter, and then will prove fatal to you; for as much as they - talk of steadiness and immutability of principles at Oxford, every - body knows that Popery was for many ages the orthodox religion there; - that protestantism (with much difficulty, and sorely against their - wills) succeeded it; that, not long ago, they were almost all Whigs, - and now almost all Tories, and for ought we know, will e're long be - Whigs again--never therefore explain your opinion but let your - declarations be, that you are churchmen, and that you believe as the - church believes.... - -[Illustration: COLLEGE SERVICE.] - - "I will only advise you to suppress, as much as possible, that busy - spirit of curiosity, which too often fatally exerts itself in youthful - breasts; but if (notwithstanding all your non-inquisitiveness), the - strong beams of truth will break upon your minds, let them shine - inwardly; disturb not the publick peace with your private discoveries - and illuminations; so, if you have any concern for your welfare and - prosperity, let Aristotle be your guide in philosophy, and Athanasius - in religion.... - - "To call yourself a Whig at Oxford, or to act like one, or to lie - under the suspicion of being one, is the same as to be attainted and - outlaw'd; you will be discouraged and brow beaten in your own college - and disqualified for preferment in any other; your company will be - avoided, and your character abused; you will certainly lose your - degree and at last, perhaps, upon some pretence or other, be - expelled.... - - "Leave no stone unturned to insinuate yourselves into the favour of - the Head, and senior-fellows of your respective colleges.... - - "Whenever you appear before them, conduct yourselves with all specious - humility and demureness; convince them of the great veneration you - have for their persons by speaking very low and bowing to the ground - at every word: whenever you meet them jump out of the way with your - caps in your hands and give them the whole street to walk in, let it - be as broad as it will. Always seem afraid to look them in the face, - and make them believe that their presence strikes you with a sort of - awe and confusion; but above all be very constant at chapel; never - think that you lose too much time at prayers, or that you neglect your - studies too much, whilst you are showing your respect to the church. I - have heard indeed that a former president of St John's College (a - whimsical, irreligious old fellow) would frequently jobe his students - for going constantly three or four times a day to chapel, and - lingering away their time, and robbing their parents, under a pretence - of serving God. But as this is the only instance I ever met with of - such an Head, it cannot overthrow a general rule.... Another thing - very popular in order to grow the favourites of your Heads, is first - of all to make your selves the favourites of their footmen, concerning - whose dignity and grandeur I have spoken in a former paper. You must - have often heard, my lads, of the old proverb, "Love me, and love my - Dog"; which is not very foreign in this case; for if you expect any - favour from the master, you must shew great respect to his servant. - - "Have a particular regard how you speak of those gaudy things which - flutter about Oxford in prodigious numbers, in summer-time, call'd - toasts; take care how you reflect on their parentage, their condition, - their virtue, or their beauty; ever remembering that of the poet, - - 'Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,' - - especially when they have spiritual bravoes on their side and old - lecherous bully-backs to revenge their cause on every audacious - contemner of Venus and her altars.... - - "I have but one thing more to mention to you, which is, not to give - into that foolish practice, so common at this time in the university, - of running upon tick, as it is called.... How many hopeful young men - have been ruin'd in this manner, cut short in the midst of their - philosophical enquiries, and for ever afterwards render'd unable to - pursue their studies again with a chearful heart, and without - interruption?... - - "My whole advice, in a few words, is this:-- - - "Let your own interest, abstracted from any whimsical notions of - conscience, honour, honesty or justice, be your guide; consult always - the present humour of the place and comply with it; make yourselves - popular and beloved at any rate; rant, roar, rail, drink, wh--re, - swear, unswear, forswear; do anything, do everything that you find - obliging; do nothing that is otherwise; nor let any considerations of - right and wrong flatter you out of those courses, which you find most - for your advantage. I have only to add, that if you follow this - advice, you will spend your days there not only in peace and plenty, - but with applause and reputation; if you have any secret good - qualities they will be pointed out in the most glaring light, and - aggravated in the most exquisite manner; if you have ever so many ugly - ones, they will be either palliated or jesuitically interpreted into - good ones. Whereas, on the contrary, if you despice and reject these - wholesome admonitions, violence, disrest, and an ill name will be the - rewards of your folly and obstinacy; it will avail you nothing, that - you have enrich'd your minds with all sorts of useful and commendable - knowledge; and that, as to vulgar morality, you have preserved an - unspotted character before men; these things will rather exasperate - the holy men against you, and excite all their cunning and artifice - for your destruction; the least frailties, humanity is prone to, will - be magnify'd into the grossest of all wickedness; and the best - actions, our nature is capable of, will be debased and vilified away. - And now do even as it shall seem good unto you. Farewell. - - TERRAE FILIUS." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker--Colman and the - Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford manner--Homunculi - Togati--Academia and a mother's love--The jovial father--Underground - dog-holes and shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night. - - -The advice tendered to freshmen in Amhurst's amazing and bitterly -satirical letter is for those who have been matriculated. They must, -therefore, fulfil all the rites of matriculation before they can read, -mark, learn, and inwardly digest it. As the process was vastly different -in Georgian times, it is interesting to read the varying accounts of -eighteenth-century freshmen. The gentleman who, "being of age to play the -fool," came up with his parents from Hoxton, has written a somewhat -indiscreet but all the more laughable description of the ceremony. - - "The master took me first aside, - Shew'd me a scrawl, I read, and cry'd - Do Fidem. - Gravely he shook me by the fist, - And wish'd me well--we next request - a tutor. - He recommends a staunch one, who - In Perkin's cause has been his co- - adjutor - To see this precious stick of wood, - I went (for so they deem'd it good) - in fear, Sir. - And found him swallowing loyally - Six deep his bumpers which to me - seem'd queer, Sir. - He bade me sit and take my glass, - I answered, looking like an ass, - I, I can't, Sir. - Not drink!--you don't come here to pray! - The merry mortal said by way - of answer. - To pray, Sir! No--my lad, 'tis well, - Come! here's our friend Sacheverell! - here's Trappy! - Here's Ormond! Marr! in short so many - Traitors we drank, it made my Cranium nappy...." - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE &C. &C. AT OXFORD.] - -The lad then went out into the town with this same "sociable priest," -bought his gown, and parted from his parents, and then-- - - "The master said they might believe him, - So righteously (the Lord forgive him!) - he'd govern - He'd show me the extremest love, - Provided that I did not prove - too stubborn. - So far, so good--but now fresh fees - Began (for so the custom is) - Fresh fees!--with drink they knock you down, - You spoil your clothes; and your new gown - you spue in...." - -He then retired for the night, and was awakened at six o'clock next -morning by a "scoundrel" of a servitor. He rose and went to chapel, very -sick and still half drunk. Later in the day, when he had recovered -sufficiently, he went with his tutor to Broad Street, where-- - - "Built in the form of Pidgeon-pye, - A house there is for rooks to lie - and roost in. - Thither to take the oaths I went, - My tutor's conscience well content - to trust in. - Their laws, their articles of grace - Forty, I think (save half a brace), - was willing - To swear to; swore, engag'd my soul, - And paid the swearing-broker whole - ten shilling. - Full half a pound I paid him down, - To live in the most p----d town, - o' th' nation." - -It must not be understood, however, that such orgies characterised the -ceremony of matriculation. This writer of fluent doggerel was a gentleman -commoner, but he seems to have caught at every lax point that he -personally observed as a target for his wit. The more sober matriculation, -both literally and figuratively, of George Colman the younger can be most -suitably placed in the other side of the scale. "On my entrance at -Oxford," he wrote, "as a member of Christ Church, I was too foppish a -follower of the prevailing fashions to be a reverential observer of -academical dress--in truth, I was an egregious little puppy--and I was -presented to the Vice-Chancellor, to be matriculated, in a grass-green -coat, with the furiously-bepowder'd pate of an ultra-coxcomb; both of -which are proscribed by the Statutes of the University. Much courtesy is -shown, in the ceremony of matriculation, to the boys who come from Eton -and Westminster; insomuch that they are never examined in respect to their -knowledge of the School Classicks--their competency is considered as a -matter of course--but, in subscribing the articles of their matriculation -oaths, they sign their _praenomen_ in Latin; I wrote, therefore, -_Georgeius_--thus, alas! inserting a redundant E--and, after a pause, said -enquiringly to the Vice-Chancellor--looking up in his face with perfect -_naiveté_--'pray, sir, am I to add Colmanus?' - -"My Terentian father, who stood at my right elbow, blush'd at my -ignorance--the Tutor (a piece of sham marble) did not blush at all--but -gave a Sardonick grin, as if _Scagliola_ had moved a muscle! - -"The good-natur'd Vice drollingly answer'd me--that the surnames of -certain _profound authors_, whose comparatively modern works were extant, -had been latinized; but that a Roman termination tack'd to the patronymick -of an English gentleman of my age and appearance, would rather be a -redundant formality. There was too much delicacy in the worthy Doctor's -satire for my green comprehension--and I walk'd back, unconscious of it, -to my College--strutting along in the pride of my unstatutable curls and -coat, and practically breaking my oath, the moment I had taken it." - -From both their accounts, differing so widely from each other, it would -seem that the ceremony of matriculation, which to-day is conducted with an -almost ecclesiastical solemnity, was in those days simply a matter of -form, a tedious business which the Vice-Chancellor hurried through with -all speed. One man performed his part in a condition of semi-intoxication -without an inkling of the meaning of the oaths to which he subscribed, -while another was presented to the Vice-Chancellor in clothes more -suitable to a fancy dress ball than to his formal admittance to the -university. Neither man drew upon himself the reprimand which to-day would -immediately be levelled at him. - -In becoming a member of the university, therefore, the eighteenth-century -freshman received his first experience of the complete inanition and -futility of the Don world. Apparently he suffered no apprehension on the -score of not conducting himself with fitting politeness when in the -presence of the authorities. Their opinion of him gave him no concern. He -was far more anxious not to contravene the unwritten laws of the -Undergraduate world. Once the tiresome but necessary matriculation became -a thing of the past, he began to look about him, anxiously at first from -the desire to avoid grievous blunders which would make him a -laughing-stock. All initiative was far too dangerous when the lynx eyes of -the entire college were upon him. Actuated by the firm belief that at -least he could not be criticised for politeness and good-breeding, the -timid freshman endeavoured to ingratiate himself in the eyes of all by -doffing his cap with humble frequence. From "Academia, or the Humours of -Oxford," the following bitter excerpt on the question of the freshman's -manners is vastly entertaining. - - "Now being arrived at his College, - The place of learning and of knowledge, - A while he'll leer about, and snivel ye, - And doff his Hat to all most civilly, - Being told at home that a shame face too, - Was a great sign that he had some Grace too, - He'll speak to none, alas! for he's - Amased at every Man he sees: - May-hap this lasts a Week, or two, - Till some Scab laugh's him on't, so - That when most you'd expect his mending, - His Breeding's ended, and not ending - Now he dares walk abroad, and dare ye, - Hat on, in peoples' Faces stare ye; - Thinks what a Fool he was before, to - Pull off his Hat, which he'd no more do; - But that the devil shites Disasters, - So that he's forc'd to cap the Masters, ... - He must cap them; but for all other, - Tho' 'twere his Father, or his Mother, - His Gran'num, Uncle, Aunt, or Cousin, - He wo' not give one Cap to a dozen." - -What wonders may be worked in a week or two! From almost servile -politeness he went to the extreme of discourtesy with the assurance of a -second-year man. - -Imitation is, however, the essence of life. Because certain things are -done, all men are compelled to do them unless they wish to incur social -ostracism. We are like sheep and must follow our leaders with docility and -readiness. If we decline to bow the neck to convention, and declare for -originality and freedom, society turns and rends us. At Oxford the -punishment for such a crime as originality is swift. A horde of outraged -seniors descends like an avalanche upon the sinner's rooms. They visit -their wrath not only upon his belongings but upon his person, and -eventually they leave him in a condition of mental and physical chaos, to -realise the utter futility of kicking against the pricks. - -In the eighteenth century the same social creed was practised. For any -transgression from the commonplace the chastisement of the culprit was -inevitable. The freshman undoubtedly realised the truth of this, however -vaguely, and conducted himself according to the rules laid down by his -seniors. His excessive good manners lasted only until the moment when it -was born in upon him that rudeness was the policy of his leaders. - -But though he might be no more than a scant fifteen years of age, as soon -as he wiped away the last tear caused by the departure of his mother, the -fresher became a Man, aggressively and consistently so. "No character," -wrote Colman, "is more jealous of the Dignity of Man (not excepting -Colonel Bath, in Fielding's Novel of Amelia), than a lad who has just -escaped from School birch to College discipline. This early Lord of the -Creation is so inflated with the importance of virility, that his -pretension to it is carefully kept up in almost every sentence he utters. -He never mentions any one of his associates but as a gentlemanly or a -pleasant man--a studious man, a dashing man, a drinking man, etc., -etc.--and the Homunculi Togati of Sixteen always talk of themselves as -Christ Church men, Trinity, St John's, Oriel, Brazen-nose men, -etc.--according to their several colleges, of which old Hens, they are the -Chickens--in short, there is no end to the colloquial manhood of these -mannikins." This passage might easily have been written to-day and not -about the middle of the eighteenth century, for the point of view of the -modern Oxford man is exactly the same as it was then. - -The parents of the old-time fresher looked at his going up and his -immediate assumption of manhood from very opposite points of view. The -mother, with regulation anxiety, conceived him to be a hardly-used, -homesick, half-starved, uncomfortable, thoroughly wretched fellow, doomed -to live in stone walls in a fever-stricken and miasmic locality. - - "Most dearly tender'd by his Mother, - Who loves him better than his brother; - So she at home a good while keeps him, - In White-broath, and Canary steeps him; - And tho' his Noddle's somewhat empty, - His Guts are stuffed with Sweet-meats plenty." - -This is how "Academia" described the mother's far-reaching apron-string -still feeling out, though some weeks cut, for her far distant son. Not so -the father! When his wife sent a servant up to Oxford with a well-stuffed -hamper for her boy and fond messages as to his health, he went down to the -servants' hall and, planting himself in front of the returned messenger, -asked "If's Son has got a Punck yet Whores he, and gets ye often drunk -yet; Being told by's Man, he took him quaffing, For joy he bursts his -sides with laughing; and prithee John (says he) and how was't--Ha, Drunk -i' the Cellar, as a Sow, wast?" - -Although the father took it for granted that his son had immediately -forgotten his home and arrived in an instant at man's estate--as far as -that permits of getting drunk--he was not always in the right. To a -certain extent the anxieties of the mother were justified, for, on -arriving at Oxford, the freshman did not always fall on a bed of clover. -In many instances he was lucky to get a bed at all in some poky little -garret with one window, through which could be obtained a minute view of -sky and stars, and which was ice-cold in winter and in summer stuffy to a -degree. However large the college there were always more men in residence -than could be properly housed. Colman said of the House, one of the -biggest colleges in Oxford, that it "was so completely cramm'd, that -shelving garrets, and even unwholesome cellars, were inhabited by young -gentlemen, in whose father's families the servants could not be less -liberally accommodated." He refers also to a fellow Westminster boy who -was "stuffed into one of these underground dog-holes." Then, too, even up -to the beginning of the nineteenth century there prevailed a system of -ragging freshers which did not tend to make them any the less homesick. -They were swindled by their scouts, and shamefully misused by their -bedmakers. - -To add to their discomfort their tutors were in many cases fast allies of -the bottle, and totally unable to render them any assistance in the matter -of finding their feet. Colman made a very illuminative reference, from his -own experience, to the scurvy tricks which the scouts and bedmakers played -upon the long-suffering fresher. "My two mercenaries," he wrote, "having -to do with a perfect greenhorn, laid in all the articles for me which I -wanted--wine, tea, sugar, coals, candles, bed and table linen--with many -useless etcetera, which they told me I wanted--charging me for everything -full half more than they had paid, and then purloining from me full half -of what they had sold." - -His scout and bedmaker had each seen fit to enter the bonds of holy -matrimony, and both brought up their better halves to assist in despoiling -the luckless greenhorn. He, however, soon lost his greenness and set about -putting his house in order--with the result that all four were turned out. -In their places, he duly installed a scout and a bedmaker who were married -to each other--a tactical move which "consolidates knavery, and reduces -your _ménage_ to a couple of pilferers, instead of four." But before -Colman had found himself sufficiently to be able firmly but courteously to -dispense with their services, his bedmaker, fittingly called a harpy, -played him false most condemnably. "I was glad," he said, writing of his -first night in Oxford, "on retiring early to rest, that I might ruminate, -for five minutes, over the important events of the day, before I fell fast -asleep. I was not, then, in the habit of using a night-lamp or burning a -rush-light; so, having dropt the extinguisher upon my candle, I got into -bed; and found, to my dismay, that I was reclining in the dark upon a -surface very like that of a pond in a hard frost. The jade of a bedmaker -had spread the spick and span sheeting over the blankets, fresh from the -linen-draper's shop-unwash'd, uniron'd, unair'd, 'with all its -imperfections on its head.' Through the tedious hours of an inclement -January night, I could not close my eyes--my teeth chattered, my back -shivered--I thrust my head under the bolster, drew my knees up to my chin; -it was all useless, I could not get warm--I turned again and again, at -every turn a hand or a foot touch'd upon some new cold place; and at every -turn the chill glazy clothwork crepitated like iced buckram. God forgive -me for having execrated the authoress of my calamity! but, I verily think, -that the meekest of Christians who prays for his enemies, and for mercy -upon "all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks," would in his orisons, in -such a night of misery, make a specifick exception against his -Bedmaker!"[4] - -In these enlightened days a fresher, even, would not have left her out of -his prayers--he would have invented new ones for her especial benefit. -Poor Colman found when he rose betimes in the morning, making a virtue of -necessity, that a night of misery was not the only torment that the -ill-favoured hussy had stored up for him. For, having abluted in ice-cold -water in the hopes of refreshing himself, he found that the towel was in -an even worse state of hardness than the sheets; while at breakfast the -tablecloth was so stiff that he dreaded to sit down to his meal because he -feared to cut his shins against the edge of it. With intent, doubtless, to -add humiliation to injury, the old hag had also left his surplice in a -state of pristine unwashedness, so that "cased in this linen panoply, -which covers him from his chin to his feet, and seems to stand on end, in -emulation of a suit of armour (the certain betrayer of an academical -debutant) the Newcomer is to be heard at several yards distance, on his -way across a quadrangle, cracking and bouncing like a dry faggot upon the -fire--and he never fails to command notice, in his repeated marches to -prayer, till soap and water have silenced the noise of his arrival at -Oxford." - -The optimism of a Georgian freshman was truly amazing. The invaluable gift -of youth is undoubtedly its explanation. To be thrust suddenly into -entirely new surroundings where not only the manners and customs were -quite different from any of which he had experience before, but where it -was necessary to begin again, to readjust his outlook upon life, was a -very trying experience. It was one which men of greater maturity would -hesitate to undergo. And yet here was this man, a mere lad of fifteen or -sixteen, gladly entering a new world with a vague notion of the things -which would be expected of him or of the things to expect. Without a -twinge of nervousness he signed his name to long-winded oaths, and -unconsciously perjured himself five minutes later. Everywhere he saw -strange faces, met with new and incomprehensible experiences, and found -himself doing the wrong thing. With undaunted cheerfulness, however, he -allowed Oxford to treat him as she chose, to mould him to her own liking, -to pull him this way and that, until eventually, with an increased -optimism, his schoolboy corners were rounded off, and he became one with -Oxford. It was his very lack of experience which enabled him to go through -such a difficult time without flinching. He did not realise the tremendous -forces at work upon him. He was, in fact, like a seed put into earth. -After the rain, the sun, the wind, and all the forces of Nature have been -brought to bear upon it, slowly and irresistibly it shoots up and becomes -at last a flower. The Oxford freshman burst forth into blossom at the end -of his first year in the same helpless way. He was quite unable to tell by -what steps his development had been brought about, and was perfectly -content to go through his whole university career in the same blind way. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne's coffee-house and the _billet-doux_--Tick--Liquor - capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_--Latin odes for tradesmen - only. - - -One of the most interesting things to study at the university is the way -in which a man gets into a certain set. Let me take for example a group of -freshmen who come from the same public school, who have played together in -the school games, possibly invited each other home for the holidays. Their -tastes and ideas are apparently the same. On coming up to Oxford each man -is differently affected. For the first few weeks they meet in one -another's rooms and discuss their impressions freely and without any -reserve. Then suddenly, after the manner of mushrooms which spring up in a -single night, it is found that one of them has got into the racing set -which despises everybody who does not ride a horse; another into the -working set, which lives, eats, and sleeps with its books; a third into -the religious set, which in a quiet, unostentatious manner goes out of its -way to help the poor, attends frequent religious meetings and, -unfortunately and quite undeservedly, is somewhat scorned by the rest of -the college; a fourth has got into the smart set, and has become a -"blood"; and others into the thousand and one little groups which go to -the composition of a university. - -This curious sudden upheaval of ideas and habits which is brought about in -one short term is to be found in every college every year, just as it -appertained in the eighteenth century. I have shown the way in which some -of these freshmen came to feel ashamed of their clothes and crept into -the back entrances of barber's and tailor's shops, while their friends -remained perfectly satisfied with their appearance, and jogged along -without any desire for silks and satins. - -The Georgian "blood," however, was a person of tantamount importance. It -was he who provided the university with food for mirth, envy, satire, -recrimination. In a previous chapter I quoted Amhurst's description of how -a Smart might be distinguished when he sauntered along, languidly twirling -his clouded amber cane and smelling philosophically of essence. His main -objects in life were apparently to avoid the accusation of being -ill-mannered, to consume daily as much liquor as possible, to be ardent in -singing the praises of the latest toast, and to expend in finery far more -money than he possessed. He thought himself to be a model of culture and -was, in fact, the man of the period who put on the most "side." - -Amhurst, with an editorial genius that was without parallel in those -times, wrote an attack on the good manners of Undergraduates in order that -he might criticise, or better, satirise, that "large body of fine -gentlemen call'd Smarts." Under the name of Valentine Frippery he answered -his own attack with a bitter reply, taking up the cudgels stoutly on -behalf of the attackees, and wound up his article by riddling all men of -the Frippery type. - -[Illustration: BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD.] - -Allowing that Terrae Filius was ever a caricaturist, and that all his -tirades and jibes must be taken cum _grano salts_, nevertheless the -picture he draws of the Bucks of the first head is a very true one. -"Valentine Frippery" wrote in answer to the accusation of ill-breeding as -follows:-- - - "_To Terrae Filius._ - - "_Christ Church College, July 1._ - - "MR PRATE-APACE.--Amongst all the vile trash and ribaldry with which - you have lately poisoned the publick, nothing is more scandalous - and saucy than your charging our university with the want of - civility and good manners. Let me tell you, Sir, for all your haste, - we have as well-bred, accomplish'd gentlemen in Oxford, as any where - in Christendom; men that dress as well, sing as well, dance as well, - and behave in every respect as well, though I say it, as any man under - the sun. You are the first audacious Wit-wou'd that ever call'd Oxford - a boorish, uncivilised place: And demme, Sir, you ought to be hors'd - out of all good company for an impudent praggish Jackanapes. Oxford a - boorish place! poor wretch! I am sorry for thy ignorance. Who wears - finer lace, or better linnen than Jack Flutter? who has handsomer - tie-wigs or more fashionable cloaths or cuts a bolder dash than Tom - Paroquet? Where can you find a more handy man at a tea-table than - Robin Tattle? Or, without vanity I may say it, one that plays better - at Ombre than him, who subscribes himself an enemy to all such pimps - as thou art?" - -Such are the arguments he brought up against a charge of bad manners: -singing, dancing, handy at a tea-table, wearing the best lace and linen -and cutting a bold dash. The perfect gentleman indeed! The acme of -culture! He, with all the others of his kidney, put in an appearance at -Lyne's coffee-house in academical undress somewhere about eleven -o'clock--that is to say, immediately after a gentle dalliance with -breakfast. Here he discussed the topics of the hour, heard the latest -news, enjoyed the latest scandals, and then strolled in the Park or under -Merton wall. Those who made no pretensions to "Smartness" were meanwhile -dining in Hall--a thing far beneath the dignity of a Buck of the first -head who ate in solitary dignity in his own chamber, his meal consisting, -for example, of "boil'd chicken and pettitoes." After resting awhile, he -spent an hour or so in overcoming the difficulties of dressing. That -satisfactorily concluded, it was his bounden duty to make an afternoon -appearance at Lyne's. About five o'clock he dropped in at Hamilton's, -where he "struts about the room for a while and drinks a dram of citron." -Thence he returned to college and adjourned to the chapel "to shew how -genteely he dresses, and how well he can chaunt." Having given conclusive -demonstrations of these two accomplishments, he drank tea with some -celebrated toast and attended her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Such a ridiculous idea as work never entered his head. Any -time he might give to reading was employed in the study of novels and -romances. - -As an example of his passion for cleanliness at all costs, Terrae Filius -gave an account of an adventure of one of these gentry at Lyne's -coffee-house. "This afternoon, a noted Smart of Christ Church College, as -he was writing a _billet-doux_ had the misfortune to blot one of his -ruffles with a spot of ink, which put the gentleman in so great a -disorder, that he threw the standish through the window, stamped about the -room for half an hour together, and was often heard to say, I wonder that -gentlemen cannot find some cleaner method of conveying their thoughts, and -that he wished he might be blown up wherever he went, if he ever made use -of that filthy liquor again, though the displeasure of the whole fair sex -was the consequence. Let prigs and pedants, said he, keep all the nasty -manufacture to themselves." - -It is comforting to be assured that this elaborate sect was not entirely -composed of peers and gentleman commoners, for their street behaviour was -far worse than anything that even the most hypercritical Somerville -blue-stocking can accuse Undergraduates of to-day. "They cannot forbear -laughing," said Amhurst, "at every body that obeys the statutes, and -differs from them; or (as my correspondent expresses it in the proper -dialect of the place) that does not cut as bold a dash as they do. They -have singly, for the most part, very good assurances; but when they walk -together in bodies (as they often do), how impregnable are their -foreheads? They point at every foul they meet, laugh very loud, and -whisper as loud as they laugh. Demme, Jack, there goes a prig! Let us blow -the puppy up. Upon which they all stare him full in the face, turn him -from the wall as he passes by, and set up an horse laugh, which puts the -plain raw novice out of countenance, and occasions great triumph amongst -these tawdry desperadoes." - -Like all hooligans they were thorough cowards unless backed up by vastly -superior numbers. It took about twenty of them, and that with the -assistance of Dutch courage, to frighten some three or four foreigners and -to kick a Presbyterian parson out of a coffee-house. They were for the -most part sons of country farmers with practically no money who got into -the Smart set immediately after coming up, and who remained Smarts just so -long as the "mercers, taylors, shoe makers, and perriwig-makers will tick -with them." Tradesmen of that day were apparently possessed of far longer -patience than most of the present generation. To-day they despatch -solicitor's letters after two terms. Then they allowed a bill to lie -fallow (with the usual accretion of interest) for three or four years. - -With his usual quaint humour Amhurst declared that he has seen these same -Smarts two or three years afterwards "in gowns and cassocks, walking with -demure looks and an holy leer; so easy is the transition from dancing to -preaching, and from the bowling-green to the pulpit." - -The Rev. Richard Graves, a Pembroke man, in 1732, related that he became -friends with a genial crowd who passed their evenings in drinking strong -ale, smoking like chimneys, punning, and singing Bacchanalian catches. -Some gentlemen commoners, however, Smarts, who came from the same part of -the country as Graves, rescued him from the ill-bred hands of such low -company--so considered chiefly on account of the liquor they drank. In his -own words "they good-naturedly invited me to their party: they treated me -with port wine and arrack-punch; and then, when they had drunk so much, as -hardly to distinguish wine from water, they would conclude with a bottle -or two of claret. They kept late hours and drank their favourite toasts on -their knees. This was deemed good company and high life; but it neither -suited my taste, my fortune, or my constitution." - -Night after night of this deep drinking made the fortunes of the -spirit-merchants, but left some of the drinkers soddened and useless. I -may quote, as an instance, the case of Lord Lovelace. - -It is a well-known fact that the Principal of his Hall reported, and that -truthfully, that "he never knew him sober but twelve hours and that he -used every morning to drink a quart of brandy, or something equivalent to -it, to his own share." Hearne, too, in his diary makes reference to a -commoner of Magdalen Hall, a son of Dr Inett, who was found dead from -drinking ale and brandy. There were three companions with him, but they -were merely asleep under the table. Professor Pryme, who was up at the end -of the eighteenth century, afterwards wrote that when Hall was over it was -the fashion to collect a large party together to drink wine with a little -dessert. "The host," he said, "named a Vice-President, and toasts were -given. First a lady by each of the party, then a gentleman, and then a -sentiment. I remember one of these latter, the single married and the -married happy. Every one was required to fill a bumper to the toasts of -the President, the Vice-President, and his own. If any one wished to go to -chapel he was pressed to return afterwards."[5] - -The fact, however, that toping constituted such an important feature of -Undergraduate life, among Smarts and non-Smarts equally is not a matter -for vast amazement, or stern condemnation. _Quis custodiet ipsos -custodes?_--for the Dons were if anything even worse than those to whom -they stood in _loco parentis_. The whole world of Dons, from the humblest -and most juvenile Fellow to the king of kings, the Head of a college or -Hall, cultivated the vice of drink as assiduously as if it were a virtue. -Oxford was not so far away from London as not to reflect the manners and -habits of the capital, and since to the Bucks of London abnormal drinking -was then the highest good form, it is not to be wondered at that the -Undergraduates, ever of tender years and advanced imitative faculties, -should give a brilliant reflection of the metropolis. - -Amhurst has pointed out that the Smarts never read anything but plays, -novels, and French comedies. When _The Student_ appeared, however, they -took it up more or less whole-heartedly. In these days of photographic -(that being the polite way of spelling pornographic) weeklies, a new -venture in 'varsity journals is greeted as a nine days' wonder. However -good the contents provided, the Oxford man prefers to look upon the -fetching features--and limbs, of footlight favourites in papers provided -free of charge in the Junior Common Room. Consequently the rash starter of -a "'varsity rag" is compelled to retire from the lists after the first two -or three issues. In the old days, however, even the _blasé_ Smart had some -initiative left to him in matters of literature. He supported the new -paper with enthusiasm and read every number carefully. After some time he -found that the editor was catering too freely for the Dons. Instead, -however, of discontinuing his subscription he wrote to the editor and -appealed on the grounds that _The Student_ was becoming too prosy and -_Spectator_-like, and urged him to keep it lighter in tone. The following -is an extract from the letter sent in:-- - - "----'S COFFEE-HOUSE, _May 4_. - - "BROTHER STUDENT,--Without a compliment I am much pleased with your - scheme, and heartily wish you success. Hitherto I think you bid fair - for it, and seem to meet with general applause. But will you forgive - my offering a word or two of advice? Let us have no more of your - abstract speculations, as you call them; indeed they are not popular. - Last night, in a full assembly of pretty fellows at this place (all - your admirers), Billy Languish read your fourth number. We all agreed - that your 'Impudence' is inimitable, but your 'letter in defence of - religion,' tho' it did not startle us (as you apprehended it would) - somewhat amazed us, I must own. Consider, Mr Student, you write for - the publick of which three fourths are ignoramuses, and therefor, tho' - we may allow you now and then in compliment to your taylor and mercer - and other learned folks, to insert a Latin ode or epigram, yet I must - needs tell you, that we don't relish your metaphysics. For which - reason I am directed by all the Smarts at ----'s, to acquaint you, - that we expect (especially if it be English), at least to understand - what we read. We consider your book as a monthly feast or - entertainment; and if we pay our ordinary, 'tis but reasonable the - dishes you set before us should be such as we are able to taste. We - cannot indeed always expect rarities, and may now and then admit of a - trifle or puff by way of make up; but prithee don't surfeit us with - ambigu's and inconnu's. At the same time I must tell you, that we are - much pleased with your last Sapphic, that we reverence Tony Alsop's - memory, and have resolv'd one and all to subscribe to his works. Billy - Languish and Dick Dimple indeed say, the 'verses on the grotto' are - better; and Dick (who you know is a wit as well as a beau) gave us - off hand a translation of them, but I have indeed since found out - where he borrows it.--I am yours, - - HARRY DIDAPPER." - -The _habitués_ of the unknown coffee-house, all pretty fellows, looked -upon _The Student_ as a "monthly feast of entertainment!" For all their -soaking and "wenching" and slacking they would seem to have had a certain -amount of brain and appreciative capability left to them. - -In a subsequent chapter I shall set down the methods by which these men -obtained their degrees after having spent some six or seven years inside -the old walls of the university. They had as little time for work as the -"bloods" of to-day whose every moment is claimed by matters of far greater -moment than mere study! To a certain extent the Smarts, though they -perhaps did not know it, were philosophers. They said to themselves that -life was short and youth shorter still, that therefore it behoved them to -cram in to the six years of their university career as much pleasure, -excitement, and amusement as was possible. The eighteenth century lent -itself whole-heartedly to this programme. The Dons, who should have been -intent on governing Oxford, had other game afoot. The Undergraduates were -thus left to their own devices, and the Smarts were the first to take -advantage of such Arcadian conditions. They delayed the hour of rising -until the sun grew weary of calling them out. There was no stern shepherd -to round them into chapel at the ungodly hour of eight o'clock. Like -butterflies they flitted from place to place at the caprice of the moment. -They held Bacchanalian revels in and out of college without regard to Dons -and statutes. Their paramours, far from being ejected from the city, were -shared with the authorities, thus proving that they had a better -understanding of real socialism than the exponents of to-day. The same -cobbled streets that hear us shouting our way home in the small hours, saw -the Georgian men staggering along with tight-linked arms in the silvery -moonlight, while Big Tom boomed out the birth of a new day. - -As year after year slipped relentlessly off the calender they absorbed the -unique atmosphere of Oxford, fully appreciating under their mask of -_blasé_ scorn the traditions and the unforgettable charm of _Alma mater_. -They carried their love and reverence for her to the grave, and gave proof -of it by sending their sons and grandsons to swell the never-ending -procession of men who sing the praises of Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven--The President - under her thumb--Amhurst's table of cons.--King Charles and the other - place. - - -What is an Oxford toast? For answer I cannot do better than turn to that -Oxford _Encyclopædia_, Terrae Filius, who from the ambush of his -anonymity, directed his fire upon all toasts with unerring aim and deadly -effect. - -"She is born, as the King says, of mean estate, being the daughter of some -insolent mechanick, who fancies himself a gentleman and resolves to keep -up his family by marrying his girl to a parson or a schoolmaster; to which -end, he and his wife call her pretty miss, as soon as she knows what it -means, and sends her to the dancing school to learn how to hold up her -head, and turn out her toes; she is taught from a child not to play with -any of the dirty boys and girls in the neighbourhood; but to mind her -dancing, and have a great respect for the gown. This foundation being -laid, she goes on fast enough of herself, without any farther assistance, -except an hoop, a gay suit of cloaths, and two or three new holland -smocks. Thus equipt, she frequents all the balls and publick walks in -Oxford; where it is a great chance if she does not, in time, meet with -some raw coxcomb or other, who is her humble servant; waits upon her home, -calls upon her again the next day; dangles after her from place to place; -and is at last, with some art and management, drawn in to marry her. - - "She has impudence--therefore she has wit; - She is proud--therefore she is well bred; - She has fine Cloaths--therefore she is genteel; - She would fain be a wife-and therefore she is not a Wh--re." - -Amhurst also informed his readers that they appeared principally in -summer, like butterflies, when they flitted from flower to flower of the -Smarts under Merton Wall. "The toasts," he remarked, "are scouring up and -new-trimming their best gowns and petticoats against the summer, and -intend to make a splendid appearance." These ladies were an extremely -conspicuous feature of Undergraduate life. In the description of the -Smart's day we are told how after chapel he drank tea with some celebrated -toast, and then waited upon her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Afterwards, when drowning his sorrows at the particular -establishment in vogue at the time, the Smart exhausted himself in his -efforts to dash off a sonnet to her eyelashes or a rhapsody in praise of -her tip-tilted nose. He drank her health upon his knees, tossing off a -non-heeltaps to every letter of her name. His day was considered wasted -unless he were seen in all his delicate apparel in company with the -acknowledged reigning queen among toasts. - -One lady, by name of Flavia, kept an orange tree growing in the window of -her bed-chamber. This inspired a burst of classic poetry from a Buck who -saw and envied it. In one of the volumes of Terrae Filius a most amusing -story was related which shows what influence these toasts exercised upon -the Undergraduates. She, too, answered to the name of Flavia--whether she -were one and the same as the horticultural lady it is impossible to say. A -"promising lad" came up and was recognised by his master--of whom he was -"a very favourite"--to be a "diligent and ingenious scholar." - -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE FIRST QUADRANGLE.] - -That character he maintained for some time, keeping to his chamber and his -books, with sported oak, and not concerning himself with the vagaries of -fashion; "indeed the poor young fellow did not dress smart; nay, often was -really dirty." Gradually he made the acquaintance of some noted Bucks and -sought their society and conversation out of curiosity. But they -continually ragged him about his shabby appearance. "Dick!" said they, -"prithee let's burn this damned brown wig of thine; get thee a little more -linnen." The lad for a time was obdurate, but at last put forward in -excuse that "this alteration of himself would make him be taken too much -notice of, and, it may be, his new dress might sit so awkward, that he -would become the jest of his acquaintance." This was a set-back to the -friends, but they came to the cunning conclusion that he might be tricked -into it. So they buttonholed him. "Dick," said one, "did you never see -Miss Flavia, one of our top toasts?" "No," quoth he, "unless at her -window." "Well, faith," said the friend, "to be plain, she likes you, I -myself heard her say in public company, I have been shew'd Mr Such-a-one -several times; everybody says he's a man of fire; it is a thousand pities -he's such a sloven." Dick was finished. He went home obsessed with the -idea, flung his wig into the fire, forgot his studies entirely and swore -to see Flavia the very next day. His friends spread a rumour abroad that -he had come into money, and his tradesmen gave him unlimited credit. -Accordingly he was decked out, in ruffles and all the other paraphernalia, -and from that day worshipped at the lady's shrine. In these days such fair -Flavias would in all probability be found pulling beer in a public-house, -totally devoid of H's, but none the less popular among a certain set. -To-day they can be treated with a certain amount of Undergraduate levity, -but in the eighteenth century it behoved the contumelious to walk -delicately and to be very careful. Amhurst hoisted the danger signal when -he related that "not long ago, a bitter lampoon was published upon the -most celebrated of these petticoat-professors, as soon as it came out the -town was in an uproar, and a very severe sentence was passed upon the -author of this anonymous libel; to discover whom no pains were spared; all -the disgusted, ill-natured fellows in the university were, one after -another, suspected upon this occasion. At last, I know not how, it was -peremptorily fixed upon one; whether justly, or not, I cannot say; but the -parties offended resolved to make an example of somebody for such an -enormous crime, and one of them (more enraged than the rest) was heard to -declare 'that, right or wrong, that impudent scoundrel (mentioning his -name) should be expelled, by G--d; and that she had interest enough with -the president and senior fellows of his college to get his business -done.'" And the scandalous part of the business was that the president and -senior fellows who had evidently had relations with the woman in question -were such cowards as to yield to her demands, which probably took the form -of threats of exposure against themselves, and sent the unoffending man -down for good. - -In his character of general reformer Terrae Filius felt himself compelled, -however reluctantly, to "draw his pen against womenkind"--the womenkind of -Oxford. His apology for so doing was that "I shall have the misfortunes of -numberless young men to answer for, if I conceal anything which may be for -their advantage, or spare any abuses in the universities, though committed -by the fairest offenders." - -After a disquisition on love, which he described as "a most arbitrary -passion," which "engrosses the whole man ... and grumbles at its own -poverty and searches after new acquisitions," he continued "conscious of -this truth, our wise forefathers took all possible care to purge the seats -of learning of these shining temptations, these dangerous decoys of youth; -but as all their prudence and precaution could not do this entirely, they -made a statute, 'prohibiting all scholars, as well as Graduates or -Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to frequent the houses and shops of -any townsmen by day, and especially by night; but more especially houses, -which harbour or receive infamous or suspected women, with whom all -scholars are strictly forbid to keep company, either in their own private -chambers, or at the houses of any townsmen.' I suppose it will be objected -by the Smarts, or others, that this statute extends only to common -prostitutes or night-walkers, and not to those divine creatures dignified -by the name of toasts; but I think that it includes all suspected women, -and especially the toasts, for the following reasons:-- - -"1. Because it was not the only design of the statute to restrain the -scholars from debauchery (from which, I hope, they need no forcible -restraint!) but to prevent them also from neglecting their studies, and -entering into scandalous marriages; of which they are in no danger from -common strumpets and mercenary street-walkers. - -"2. Because there was no occasion for a statute against common whores, any -more than against house-breakers and pickpockets, which are all punishable -by the laws of the land. - -"3. Because I have a better opinion of the townsmen of Oxford (who are, -many of them, matriculated men), than to believe that they would entertain -in their houses such filthy drabs; though it is probable enough that they -would marry their daughters to advantage if they could; in which I can see -no great harm on their parts. - -"4. Because I have a better opinion of the scholars too, than to believe -that they would keep company with such cattle; and I think it is a scandal -to the university to stand in need of a statute, which supposes that any -of her hopeful children are addicted to such beastliness." - -Amhurst's reasons are logical enough to convince the meanest intelligence -of the true nature of the Oxford toasts. In support of them he brings up -no less a second than King Charles I., who wrote officially and at some -length on the question of university government to the Vice-Chancellor and -Heads of Cambridge commanding the suppression of women such as those in -question. The reason why the good King did not treat Oxford to a similar -injunction is, supposedly, that the need for it did not reach the royal -ears. It is hinted more than once, too, in the pages of Terrae Filius that -the Dons themselves entertained feelings of sympathy towards the toasts, -and shielded them from royal visitations by intentionally keeping things -quiet. Judging from the character of the Dons in the eighteenth century it -is highly probable that such was indeed the case. - -"Happy is it," says Amhurst, "for the present generation of Oxford toasts, -that King Charles I. (so much unlike that accomplished gentleman, his son) -was long ago laid in the dust! Were that rigid King now alive, my mind -misgives me strangely, that I should see an end of all the balls and -cabals, and junketings at Oxford; that several of our most celebrated and -beautiful madams would pluck off their fine feathers, and betake -themselves to an honest livelihood; or make their personal appearance -before the lords of his majesty's privy council, to answer their contempt, -and such other matters as should be objected against them." - -Unmourned and besmirched the last of the Oxford toasts has long since -passed beyond the judgment of man. The Dons were in all too many cases the -cause of sending recruits to the ranks of the oldest profession in the -world. Heads of colleges, reverend clerics, and holders of Fellowships -must all answer to the charge of "wenching." - -[Illustration: A VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN.] - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -The Servitor - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors. - - -In the year of grace nineteen hundred and eleven there are three main -divisions of the genus Undergraduate:--scholars, commoners, and "toshers," -the last sometimes known as non-collegiate Undergraduates. Under a fourth -heading, which constitutes a small subdivision all by itself, I may place -the working-men Undergraduates--the members of Ruskin Hall. Georgian -Undergraduates might also be split up into parallel divisions. There were -also servitors, who were, in some sort, the ancient form of the -working-men Undergraduates of the twentieth century. - -Oxford in Georgian times was, according to the popular conception, a place -where peers and rich men sent their sons in order that they might receive -a better education than anywhere else in the world. The erudition, -classical learning, and brilliance of the Dons passed all belief. Nowhere -on earth was there gathered together a body of men with such knowledge and -brain power. Did any man yearn for instruction in any subject, Oxford was -the only place where that subject was exhaustively known and thoroughly -taught. - -It naturally followed, therefore, that the lower classes, who drudged all -day in the effort to keep body and soul together, and provide the -wherewithal to fill the stomachs of their hungry progeny, left Oxford -outside their calculations when discussing the prospective education of -their children. Oxford was a place for rich men. How, then, could their -sons go there? It was impossible. Meanwhile, the children were clamouring -for education. What was to be done? - -Through the influence of rich men who had been to the university the -penniless lads were taken from the plough and entered into colleges as -errand boys and odd-job hands. They were at liberty to pick up what -education they could in the intervals of performing menial tasks for the -gentlemen commoners. They cleaned boots, fetched and carried, and were the -servants of anybody who chose to order them about. Having no money they -slept in coal-holes, cupboards under the stairs, and attics under the -eaves, and satisfied the pangs of hunger by picking up the crumbs which -fell from the rich men's tables. They had no social intercourse with the -gentlemen commoners, and were treated with scant courtesy by the college -servants. - -The resemblance between the servitor and the Ruskin Hall man is apparent -when due allowance has been made for modern improvements. The modern -conception of Oxford is curiously akin to that of the eighteenth century. -The education to be received still has a very high reputation. The present -day working classes, however, possess a greater ambition than their -antecedents showed. They are no longer content to snatch education in the -intervals of earning their keep. Ruskin Hall has been built for their -especial benefit. There they may win scholarships to their heart's -content. Their kinship with the humble servitor lies in the fact that they -do their own menial work instead of having to do it for others; that they -have no social intercourse with the Undergraduates of other colleges -except at the weekly debates of the Union Society in which they -distinguish themselves by their fluent Socialistic doctrines; and that -they take no part in the athletic and collegiate life of the university. - -One of the earliest references to servitors in the eighteenth century -records is contained in a comedy entitled "An Act at Oxford." The play was -written in 1704 by a dramatist named Baker. - -One of the characters was a servitor named Chum. His father was a -chimney-sweep and his mother a poor ginger-bread seller at Cow Cross. Chum -was established in Brazen-Nose College, and his duties consisted in -waiting "upon Gentleman-Commoners, to dress and clean their shoes and make -out their exercises." His "fortune," which was "soon told," consisted -apparently of "two Raggs call'd shirts, a dog's eared Grammer, and a piece -of _Ovid de Tristibus_." For having materially assisted his master, a -Smart, to win the hand and heart of a fair damsel known as Berynthia, he -was rewarded, in the play, with the sum of five hundred guineas--an -occurrence which would be the height of improbability in real life, as the -servitor was jeered at and made a kind of Aunt Sally by all and sundry. - -In 1709 one of those poor miserable wretches sat him down--where he -procured pen and paper is still shrouded in mystery--and wrote a poem on -his own doleful condition. Its title is "Servitour," and it was printed by -"H. Hills in Black-Fryars, near the water side." He pictured himself to be -coming out of a Skittle Yard in his "rusty round cap." - - "Like Cheesy Pouch of Shon-ap-Shenkin, - His Sandy locks, with wide Hiatus, - Like Bristles seem'd Erected at us, - Clotted with Sweat, the Ends hung down; - And made Resplendent Cape of Gown; - Whose Cape was thin, and so Transparent, - Hold it t' th' Light, you'd scarce beware on't - 'Twixt Chin and Breast contiguous Band, - Hung in an Obtuse Angle and-- - It had a Latitude Canonick, - His coat so greasy was and torn, - That had you seen it you'd ha' sworn - 'Twas Ten Years old when he was born. - His buttons fringed as is the Fashion, - In Gallick and Brittanick Nation; - Or, to speak like more Modern fellows, - Their moulds dropt out like ripe Brown-shellers. - His Leather Galligaskin's rent, - Made Artless Music as he went.... - His Holey Stockins were ty'd up, - One with a Band, one with a Rope." - -In such clothes as these, the extreme poverty of which would bring a blush -to the cheek of the modern Oxford paper-boy, this gloomy poet had to go to -the Buttery and procure game and capons, ribs of beef, and other succulent -dainties for some gentleman commoner's dinner, while for himself there was -nothing but "Poor scraps and Cold as I'm a sinner." As a place to lay his -head o' nights, he was thankful to get a lumber-room in the apex of the -building, somewhere under the eaves, - - "A Room with Dirt and Cobwebs lin'd, - Which here and there with Spittle Shin'd; - Inhabited let's see--by Four; - If I mistake not, 'twas no more. - Two buggy beds.... - Their Dormer windows with brown paper, - Was patch'd to keep out Northern Vapour. - The Table's broken foot stood on, - An old Schrevelious Lexicon, - Here lay together Authors various, - From Homer's _Iliad_, to Cordelius: - And so abus'd was Aristotle, - He only served to stop a bottle.... - Where eke stood Glass, Dark-Lanthorns ancient - Fragment of Mirerr, Penknife, Trencher, - And forty things which I can't mention. - Old Chairs and Stools, and such-like Lumber, - Compleatly furnisht out the Chamber." - -George Whitefield, a servitor at Pembroke in 1732, also shared his rooms -with others. His companions, however, did not appear to have suffered -unduly from the usual depression caused by their hard lot, for they -frequently invited Whitefield to join them "in their excess of riot," and -looked upon him as a weird and extraordinary creature for his persistent -refusals. His account of the manner of his admission to Pembroke College -is characteristic of the man, and gives an idea of what tasks servitors -were called upon to perform. - -"Being now near eighteen years old, it was judged proper for me to go to -the university. God had sweetly prepared my way. The friends before -applied to, recommended me to the Master of Pembroke College. Another -friend took up ten pounds upon bond (which I have since repaid), to defray -the first expence of entring; and the Master, contrary to all -expectations, admitted me servitor immediately. - -"Soon after my admission I went and resided, and found my having been used -to a publick-house was now of service to me. For many of the servitors -being sick at my first coming up, by diligent and ready attendance I -ingratiated myself into the gentlemen's favour so far, that many, who had -it in their power, chose me to be their servitor. - -"This much lessened my expence; and indeed, God was so gracious, that, -with the profits of my place, and some presents made me by my kind tutor, -for almost the first three years I did not put all my relations together -to above £24 expence. - -"And it has often grieved my soul to see so many young students spending -their substance in extravagant living, and thereby entirely unfitting -themselves for the prosecution of their proper studies." - -Because he became a Methodist and attended seriously to his religious -duties, Whitefield was badly ragged. The fact that a servitor should make -any claims to superior godliness made his employers, for some reason, -acutely annoyed. "I daily underwent some contempt at college," he wrote, -"some have thrown dirt at me; others, by degrees, took away their pay from -me; and two friends that were dear unto me, grew shy of, and forsook me." - -One of his lay duties as servitor consisted in going round to the -gentlemen's rooms at ten o'clock at night and knocking to find out who was -in--the majority of them being at that hour, doubtless, discussing punch -and claret in the Mitre or Tuns. All those who made no answer to his knock -were reported and received punishment for being out of college after -hours. - -Of his college exercises he wrote as follows:-- - -"Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme, I had no power to write a -word nor so much as tell my Christian friends of my inability to do it. -Saturday being come (which is the day the students give up their -compositions), it was suggested to me that I must go down into the Hall -and confess I could not make a theme, and so publickly suffer, as if it -were for my Master's sake. When the bell rung to call us, I went to open -the door to go downstairs, but feeling something give me a violent inward -check, I entered my study, and continued instant in prayer, waiting the -event. For this my tutor fined me half a crown. The next week Satan served -me in like manner again; but having now got more strength, and perceiving -no inward check, I went into the Hall. My name being call'd, I stood up, -and told my tutor I could not make a theme. I think he fined me a second -time; but, imagining that I would not willingly neglect my exercise, he -afterwards called me into the common room, and kindly enquired whether any -misfortune had befallen me, or what was the reason I could not make a -theme? I burst into tears, and assured him that it was not out of contempt -of authority, but that I could not act otherwise. Then, at length, he -said he believed I could not; and, when he left me, told a friend (as he -very well might), that he took me to be really mad." - -Besides cleaning boots, fetching and carrying, running errands and -performing other menial services of a like nature, the servitors jumped at -the opportunity of earning odd pence by writing out the impositions to -which their masters had been condemned by the Proctors. - - "For should grave Proctor chance to meet - A buck in boots along the street - He stops his course and with permission - Asking his name, sets imposition, - Which to get done, if he's a ninny - He gives his barber half a guinea. - This useful go-between will share it - With servitor in college garret, - Who counts these labours sweet as honey - Which brings to purse some pocket money."[6] - -Other methods of pocket filling to which servitors had recourse were -mentioned by Dr Johnson, who, writing to Tom Warton concerning the delay -in a work on Spenser caused by the number of his correspondents and pupils -at Oxford, said: "Three hours a day stolen from sleep and amusement will -produce it. Let a servitor transcribe the quotations, and interleave them -with references to save time." As, however, servitors were not admitted -within the sacred precincts of the Bodleian, transcription was necessarily -limited. This was a cause of great lamentation and outcry at the time from -the men, because they were compelled to do the work themselves, and from -the servitors because they were thus deprived of a means of earning a few -extra necessary pence. "Dr Hyde complains," says Wordsworth in his book on -the eighteenth century, "that some in the university have been very -troublesome in pressing that their servitors may transcribe manuscripts -for them, though not capable of being sworn to the Library." - -[Illustration: VIEW OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE.] - -For a commoner to be seen in public in the company of a servitor was a -"great disparagement." Consequently, if a servitor was sufficiently -blessed to be able to call a commoner friend, he must needs visit him -secretly, or under cover of darkness. It is on record that Shenstone, who -was a commoner of Pembroke, visited Jago a servitor, a friend of his, in -strict private because of this popular prejudice. When Erasmus was at -Queen's his servitor's rooms were immediately above his own. The poor -wretch, besides being at his master's beck and call, was very often the -slave of his master's mistress--an employ of vast uneasiness and -discomfort. - -In the _Oxford Chronicle_ in 1859, in a series of articles entitled -"Oxford during the Last Century," Aubrey describes Willis, the servitor of -Dr Iles, Canon of Christ Church, as studying in his blue livery cloak at -the lower end of the hall by the door, and assisting his master's wife in -mixing drugs. - -As a parallel case to that of Whitefield, who was a drawer in the Bell -Inn, Gloucester, Hearne tells "of one Lyne, son of a clergyman, and -grandson of the Town Clerk of Oxford, who was drawer at the King's Head -Tavern of that city, in 1735; his elder brother being Fellow of Emmanuel, -and his younger an eminent scholar of King's." - -It was no exaggeration to say that the servitors lived on the scraps from -the Undergraduates' tables. The following quotation shows the grinding -penury against which they had to struggle: "Of the poverty of the class," -wrote J. R. Green in his wonderful "Oxford Studies," "no better instance -can be found than Samuel Wesley, the father of the Wesleys who were to -change the whole state of religion in England, and himself a very stirring -person, to whom we shall have occasion subsequently to allude. He was the -son of an ejected and starving non-conformist minister, and when at the -age of sixteen he walked to Oxford and entered himself as a servitor at -Exeter, his whole worldly wealth amounted to no more than £2, 16s. Yet -after supporting himself during his whole university career without any -aid from his friends, save a trivial 5s., he set off to London to make a -plunge into life with a capital increased to £10, 15s. Five shillings, -however, sneer as we may, seem to have been no uncommon 'allowance' to a -servitor of the time."[7] - -These poor servitors did not feel any touch of shame or degradation at -having to clean boots and perform all the other dirty work of the place. -Why should they? Their poverty at Oxford was in no way different from that -in which they lived previously to their arrival at Oxford. It was merely a -change in locality. For they came, as has been shown, from plough and -public-house. - -There are many instances to show to what great use some of them put the -education which they managed to acquire during their servitorship. Sir -John Birkenhead was a servitor at Oriel, and during that period of his -afterwards noteworthy career, his brother was a trooper. It was only -through the kindheartedness of a patron that Bishop Robinson became the -servitor of Sir James Astrey at Brasenose. He was afterwards appointed to -a Fellowship at Oriel, was sent as an envoy to Sweden, and became Bishop -both of Bristol and London. In the days of his fame he was able to repay -in some sort the kindness of his patron by granting his son a chaplaincy; -and his love for the university is shown by the scholarships which he -founded at Oriel. - -Can Ruskin Hall point proudly to a son who has achieved such fame as -either of these ex-servitors? - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper's--Southey at Balliol--Cox's six-oared crew--The - riverside barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes against - games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses and - badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights--Paniotti's Fencing - Academy--Old-time "bug-shooters"--Skating in Christ Church - meadows--Cricket and the Bullingdon Club--Walking tours. - - -It would be impossible to live in Oxford and be healthy--except perhaps in -the summer term, if we are lucky enough to have any sun--without taking -exercise. It has long been a matter of wonder how those men keep fit who, -with the excuse of "having a heart" neither row, play soccer, rugger, -hockey, or any other of the strenuous games which keep the average -Undergraduate sound in wind and limb. As a matter of fact they don't. For -the "heart-y" gentlemen almost invariably take as many week-ends out of -Oxford as possible, and in most cases retire comfortably and ingloriously -to the paternal establishment and maternal care long before term is over. -The others, the normal people, the devotees of bone and muscle, the -"muddied oafs and flannelled fools"--(which is the only mistake Mr Kipling -ever made)--are never ill, at least from climatic effects. They may strain -something, or even break a few bones, but that cannot be put down to the -Oxford weather. The best doctors on earth, or rather the best -preventatives against illness--and there is a great difference--are the -river, the football and hunting fields, and the boxing ring, and as we -find these things to be true to-day so in old times, when wigs and ruffles -were somewhat of a handicap to the taking of hard exercise, these -remedies against the Oxford climate were adopted with almost the same -keenness. The word almost is used advisedly because the percentage of -"bloods" who did nothing strenuous was far larger, and the possibilities -in things sporting were not nearly so great. We have changed all that, and -can afford a smile of condescension when, seated on the alleviating -pontius in a "Rough" eight, with its simple-looking sliding seat, its -hair-thick outer shell and its wonderful travelling possibilities, we -think of the heavy gigs and six-oared boats into which our predecessors -"tumbled," clad in catskin caps and leather trousers. - -Nevertheless the river was just as popular then though for quite different -reasons. There were no rowing Blues to be had in those days; no presidents -of boat clubs--no boat clubs even. There was only Dame Hooper's--an -odd-looking, tumble-down, shed-like place, where the gownsmen blarneyed -the old lady and hired out skiffs, gigs, cutters, and canoes. Unlike our -togger men who, like strange hairy creatures from another planet, -hatlessly converge from all parts of the town through the Broad Walk to -the Barges, emitting yards of muscular leg for all the world to view in -amusement and admiration, the eighteenth-century wet-bobs went down to the -river in square--or, as they called it, trencher--and gown. But Dame -Hooper was old, unskittish, and trustworthy, and so they threw off their -academical garb in her shed and arrayed themselves in the trousers, -jackets, and caps which were then the thing. It might well be thought that -these were a great hindrance to correct 'varsity swinging. But they did -not worry their heads about that--there was no boat race to be taken into -agitated consideration--and it has been left for 1911 to pour out its -bleeding heart in vehement controversy anent the true 'varsity style as -opposed to the new fangled Belgian method. In those days the motto was air -and exercise. Now, dare it be said, the river is a business, a -profession, to which are consecrated all the waking moments, and many of -those which we should like to dedicate to bed, of our whole university -careers. - -Southey, who was, oddly enough, a Balliol man, said that he only learned -two things at Oxford--to swim and to row. After he went down he wrote the -following description of the river:-- - -"A number of pleasure boats were gliding in all directions upon this clear -and rapid stream; some with spread sails; in others the caps and tassels -of the students formed a curious contrast with their employment at the -oar. Many of the smaller boats had only a single person in each; and in -some of these he sat face forward, leaning back as in a chair, and plying -with both hands a double-bladed oar in alternate strokes, so that his -motion was like the path of a serpent. One of these canoes is, I am -assured, so exceedingly light, that a man can carry it; but few persons -are skilful or venturous enough to use it."[8] - -It would be well worth while to watch the face of one of these timid -canoers if we could bring him down to the barges to-day to one of the -"rag" regattas and show him scores of "venturous persons" who not only -dispense with paddles, but dash about in a Canadian canoe with a punt -pole. - -G. V. Cox told us that in 1790 there were no races, but that "men went to -Nuneham for occasional parties in six-oared boats (eight-oared boats were -then unknown), but these boats belonged to the boat people; the crew was a -mixed crew got up for the day, and the dresses worn anything but uniform. -I belonged to a crew of five, who were, I think, the first distinguished -by a peculiar (and what would now be thought a ridiculous) dress, viz., a -green leather cap, with a jacket and trousers of nankeen!"[9] - -There are many recent boat club presidents who proudly show souvenirs of -love passages with every barmaid from Folly Bridge to Abingdon, and up the -Cher to Water Eaton. The fair damsels of the Cherwell Hotel are indeed the -sole reasons why hordes of Undergraduates punt out there to lunch on -Sundays, when they might just as easily, and far less expensively, take -luncheon baskets with them--as they do if their people are up! But there -is nothing original in all this. The same touch of old Adam existed in the -coffee-house period, as is shown by the following lines:-- - - "We visit Sandford next and there - Beckley provides accustomed fare - Of eels and perch and brown beef-steak.... - Whilst Hebe-like his daughter waits, - Froths our full bumpers, changes plates. - The pretty handmaid's anxious toils - Meanwhile our mutual praise beguiles, - Whilst she, delighted, blushing sees - The bill o'erpaid and pockets fees - Supplied for ribbon or for lace - To deck her bonnet or her face." - -To-day Hebe has become _blasé_ and cannot blush with any readiness, nor is -she so anxious in her toils. The chaste salute and the overpaid bill are -features of our own time, and will remain, from generation to generation, -as long as Oxford is a university, and there are hotels on the Cher. The -same poet goes on to describe the way in which he was taught to sail by a -friend who was already an expert. - - "At Folly Bridge we hoist the sail, - And briskly scud before the gale - To Iffley--where our course awhile - Detain--its locks and Saxon pile - Affording pause; to recommend - The Hobby-horse unto my friend. - Our light-built galley; ours I say - Since Warren bears an equal sway - In her command; as first, in cost - The half he shared; himself a host - Whether he plies the limber oar - Or tows the vessel from the shore; - Or strains the main sheet tight astern - Close to the wind; of him I learn - Patient to wait the time exact - When jib and foresail should be back'd - To bring her round; or mark the strain - The boat on gunwale can sustain - Without aught danger of upsetting, - Or giving both her mates a wetting."[10] - -[Illustration: NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON'S STUDY AT OXFORD.] - -A glance at the statutes shows that the river was almost the only form of -athletics then permissible, for the prohibited sports included "every kind -of game in which money is concerned, such as dibs, dice, cards, cricketing -in private grounds or gardens of the townspeople ... every kind of game or -exercise from which danger, injury, or inconvenience might arise to other -people, such as hunting of beasts with any sort of dogs, ferrets, nets or -toils, also any use or carrying of muskets, cross-bows, or falchions; -neither rope-dancers nor actors, nor shows of gladiators are to be -permitted without especial sanction; moreover, the scholars are not to -play at football, nor with cudgels, either among themselves or with the -townsfolk, a practice from which the most perilous contentions have -arisen." - -During the earlier half of the century, bell ringing was a form of -amusement--and exercise--which was very largely indulged in. At any hour -of the day it was the custom to go up into the belfry and practice, with -such zest that the ringer sometimes fell from sheer exhaustion. Hearne was -known to take a keen interest in the matches which were sometimes -arranged between different peals of bells, while Antony Wood, some years -before, had joined with his mother and brothers in subscribing towards the -foundation of the Merton bells and, as Wordsworth says, "though they were -not satisfactory to the 'curious and critical hearer,' he plucked at them -often with some of his fellow-collegians for recreation sake." Later on, -however, this practice was generally voted boring and even vulgar, and the -more "aristocratic door bell and knocker ringing" succeeded it. Hearne -himself was pleased to countenance bell-ringing, yet when a proposal was -afoot to found "an academy of exercise in the university such as riding -the great horse, fencing, etc.," he would not hear of it or entertain the -idea for a moment. "I think," said he, "'twould have utterly obstructed -all true learning." - -Horses, in spite of Hearne, were popular among Dons and Undergraduates. -The "Female Student," writing a letter to _The Student_, summed up the -tastes of a Master of Arts as consisting of "the college-hall, the -common-room, the coffee-house, and now and then a ride to the -Gog-magog-hills." The now and then was probably accounted for by the -expensiveness attaching to the hobby. There were, however, several -stable-keepers at the time who, starting with a diminutive capital, -retired after a very few years in the business with large fortunes. G. V. -Cox, the member of the crew in nankeen trousers, says that it was quite a -usual thing "for a gentleman (the Oxford tradesman's designation of a -member of the university) to ride a match against time to London and back -again to Oxford (108 miles) in twelve hours or less with, of course, -relays of horses at regular intervals. In one instance this was done in -eight hours and forty-five minutes.... Betting was, no doubt, the first -and chief motive; a foolish vanity the second; the third cause was the -absence at that time in the university of a better mode of proving pluck -and taming down the animal spirits of non-reading youngsters.... Hunting -then, as now, was an expensive amusement, only to be enjoyed by the few, -and by them only for a part of the year; racing had not then been thought -of ... but a gentleman need not learn to ride like a jockey."[11] - -Sir Erasmus Philipps must, therefore, have been a monied man, for in 1720, -when he was a Fellow-commoner of Pembroke, his outdoor sports took the -form of fox-hunting, attending cock-fights and horse-races, and riding to -Woodstock, Godstow, and Nuneham. Many of the horse-races took place on -Port Meadow. Terrae Filius, referring to "that famous apartment by idle -wits and buffoons nick-named Golgotha, _i.e._, the place of Sculls or -Heads of Colleges and Halls where they meet and debate upon all -extraordinary affairs which occur within the precincts of their -jurisdiction," says that "this room of state or academical council chamber -is adorn'd with a fine pourtrait of her late Majesty Queen Anne, which was -presented to this assembly by a jolly fox-hunter in the neighbourhood, out -of the tender regard which he bore to her pious memory, and to the -reverend Sculls of the university, who preside there; for which -benefaction they have admitted him into their company, and allow him the -honour to smoak a pipe with them twice a week." - -In one of the papers of _The Loiterer_ the writer described how Dr -Villars, Mr Sensitive, and himself went for a country walk and talk to Joe -Pullen's Tree. "As soon as we had reached this elevated situation, and -cast our eyes over the well-known view, a general silence took place for -some minutes. It was indeed a day for meditation. The sun emerging by fits -and starts from the grey fleckered clouds which overspread the whole -atmosphere, illuminated the projecting points of Magdalen and Merton -Towers, and shot its lengthened gleams across the pastures and meads, -which extend themselves in a long level to the north of the city, while -the woody hills of Wytham, rising boldly from behind a flat country, threw -over the whole background a broad mass of dark shadows broken only here -and there by a white sail, whose almost imperceptible motion just marked -the various turns and windings of the river.... A large party of very -dashing men rode by, mounted on cropt ponies, and followed by no -inconsiderable number of Tarriers. Of all sorts, sizes, and colours; and -as they did not ride very fast, and talked rather loud, we easily -discovered that the object of this grand cavalcade had been a -badger-baiting on Bullingdon Green; in the event of which combat they -seemed greatly interested, and were settling the merits of their different -dogs with great clamour, and not without some altercation." The solemn -statutes did not seem to worry those optimistic sportsmen overmuch on that -glorious summer day. - -Bull-baiting and cock-fighting, both, in their time, exceedingly popular -at the university were strongly put down by the authorities. One gathers -that it was usual at these affairs to start a free fight after the show, -in which the town and gown partisans did their best to kill or maim each -other for life. All things duly considered, therefore, it was, perhaps, a -wise step on the part of the Dons to forbid such affairs. Dr Rawlinson -made a regretful reference to one of these pitched battles: "A great -disturbance between the scholars of the university and the townsmen of -Heddington at a bull-baiting, at which some scholars were beaten." -Considering the tender years of most of the freshmen it is a matter for -great congratulation that they made such good stands against the -bullet-headed townees. They could not have done so but for the fact that -boxing was much followed among 'varsity men. They were to a large extent -keen patrons of the noble art of self-defence, and the chief instructors -about the year 1729 were none other than the celebrated Broughton and -Figg, who ran a saloon in London. The fact that this boxing academy was -far away from Oxford did not preclude the keenest pugilists from -journeying up to take lessons. Amhurst came across a crowd of -Undergraduates in an Oxford coffee-house one night just after Mendoza had -won a famous victory, and he was vastly entertained to hear their keenly -excited discussion of every lead and stop and hook and counter and to see -them turning and twisting their bodies in pugilistic attitudes in -illustration of the professional manner of planting each separate blow. -They seemed to know as much about the fight as if they had been present. - -In December 1729 the Mayor of Oxford licensed a prize fight to be held in -the town. Crowds attended in the assurance of a good morning's sport, but -at the last moment the Vice-Chancellor, a book-ridden, pompous, crusty old -curmudgeon, filled with the dignity of his office, appeared on the scene -and succeeded in putting a stop to it. It was a miracle that the assembled -multitude did not tear his robes off his back and put him in the ring to -stand up to one of the bruisers. - -In spite of Hearne's prognostication that the establishment of a fencing -academy would be the death of all true learning, an academy was started -some years later by a Greek of the name of Paniotti. He was "full of -sentiments of honour and courage, and of most independent spirit." R. L. -Edgeworth was a keen pupil of Paniotti, and it was at his school that he -became friends with Sir James M'Donald, who was "one of the greatest -scholars and mathematicians of his time." Their friendship was of short -duration, however, as Sir James died at Rome some five years later. - -Edgeworth has an interesting story about this fencing establishment. "Mr -L., a young gentleman of a noble family and of abilities, but of -overbearing manners, was our fellow pupil under Paniotti. At the same -school we met a young man of small fortune, and in a subordinate position -at Maudlin. - -"He fenced in a regular way, and much better than Mr L., who, in revenge, -would sometimes take a stiff foil that our master used for parrying, and -pretending to fence, would thrust it with great violence against his -antagonist. The young man submitted for some time to this foul play, but -at last he appealed to Paniotti, and to such of his pupils as were -present. Paniotti, though he had expectancies from the patronage of the -father of his nobly-born pupil, yet without hesitation condemned his -conduct. One day, in defiance of L.'s bullying pride, I proposed to fence -with him, armed as he was with this unbending foil, on condition that he -should not thrust at my face; but at the very first opportunity he drove -the foil into my mouth. I went to the door, broke off the buttons of two -foils, turned the key in the lock, and offered one of these extemporaneous -swords to my antagonist, who very prudently declined the invitation. This -person afterwards showed through life an unprincipled and cowardly -disposition."[12] - -While on the subject of fighting it is interesting to note that there were -such things as 'varsity "bug-shooters" even in those times, whose keenness -was far greater than that of the majority of the O.U.O.T.C., who slack -through just sufficient drills to enable them to put in a fortnight's -camping in summer. G. V. Cox says that there were "enrolled about five -hundred, commanded by Mr Coker of Bicester, formerly Fellow of New -College. Such indeed was the zeal and spirit called forth in those -stirring times by the threat of invasion that even clerical members did -not hesitate to join the ranks.... Some also of the most respectable of -the college servants were enrolled with their masters.... The dress or -uniform was of a very heavy character but also very imposing: a blue coat -(rather short but somewhat more than a jacket) faced with white duck -pantaloons, with a black leathern strap or garter below the knee, and -short black cloth gaiters. The headdress was also heavy; a beaver -round-headed hat surmounted by a formidable roll of bear-skin or something -of the kind."[13] - -Several years after the above incident in Paniotti's fencing school, an -article appeared in _The Student_. It was a fantastic account of "Several -Public Buildings in Oxford never before described" and contained the -following:-- - -"The several gymnasia constructed for the exercise of our youth, and a -relaxation from their severer studies, are not so much frequented as -formerly, especially in the summer; our ingenious gownsmen having found -out several sports which conduce to the same end, such as battle-door and -shuttle-cock, swinging on the rope, etc., in their apartments; or, in the -fields, leap-frog, tag, hop-step-and-jump, and among the rest, skittles; -which last is a truly academical exercise, as it is founded on -arithmetical and geometrical principles." - -Skinner, the poet, who sailed his yacht down to Sandford and rowed in Dame -Hooper's boats, seems to have been quite an all-round man. - - "If day prove only passing fair - I walk for exercise and air - Or for an hour skate, - For a large space of flooded ground - Which Christ Church gravel walks surround - Has solid froze of late. - - "Here graceful gownsmen silent glide, - Or noisy louts on hobnails slide, - Whilst lads the confines keep - Exacting pence from every one - As payment due for labour done - As constantly they sweep." - -His touch of "side" is not unfunny--the graceful 'varsity man is a picture -of all culture, while the townee is a lout because he slides on vulgar -hobnails. On several of the bard's sailing expeditions, after they had -dined chez Beckley, and duly tipped the girl, - - "A game of quoits will oft our stay - Awhile at Sandford Inn delay; - Or rustic nine-pins; then once more - We hoist our sail, and tug the oar."[14] - -He must doubtless have looked down upon his fellow quill driver in _The -Student_ as several parts of a fool for thinking rustic nine-pins "a truly -academical exercise, as it is founded on arithmetical and geometrical -principles." - -Cricket and tennis were not of much account. The Lownger described his -going after dinner to tennis, returning in time for chapel - - "From the Coffee House then I to Tennis away, - And at six I post back to my college to pray," - -while G. V. Cox, in his "Recollections," remembered that "the game of -cricket was kept up chiefly by the young men from Winchester and Eton, and -was confined to the old Bullingdon Club, which was expensive and -exclusive. The members of it, however, with the exception of a few who -kept horses, did not mind walking to and fro."[15] - -As a rather less strenuous form of exercise than eighteenth-century -cricket many men kept themselves fit by walking. Wordsworth points out -that "in 1799 Daniel Wilson writes to his father, that very few days -passed when he did not walk for about an hour." This exceedingly gentle -form of pedestrianism was only an end of century hobby. Earlier on men -seem to have been made of sterner stuff. The Greek Professor at Aberdeen, -Dr Thomas Blackwell, wrote to Warburton at Oxford in 1736 to beg him to -accompany Middleton and their common friend, Mr Gale, in a tour in -Scotland for two months in the summer during the long vacation. "In 1742 -Tho. Townson started for a three years' tour in France, Italy, Germany, -and Holland, with Dawkins, Drake, and Holdsworth. On his return from the -continent," the quotation is from Christopher Wordsworth, "he resumed in -College (Magdalen) the arduous and respectable employment of tuition, in -which he had been engaged before he went abroad. William Wordsworth took -walking tours in France 1790-91 (at a time no less awfully interesting -than that which the country has now been passing through) before and after -taking his degree." In the first instance he was accompanied by his -college friend Robert Jones, with about twenty pounds apiece in their -pockets. "Our coats which we had made light on purpose for that journey -are of the same piece," he wrote, "and our manner of carrying our bundles -which is upon our heads, with each an oak stick in our hands, contributes -not a little to the general curiosity which we seem to excite." - -[Illustration: A DUCK HUNT.] - -Had they but carried more money and travelled in luxury they would not -have been unlike the present-day Rhodes men, whose custom it is during -vacation to scour the ends of the earth. - -Inter-college and inter-'varsity athletic meetings were undreamed of in -the eighteenth century. Because Georgian Oxford men could not boast -representative colours, however, is no proof that they were not sportsmen. -It would be impossible to find a set of men in any century more ready for -deeds of daring do. They rode straight and ate hearty. They broke rules -and defied statutes with a zest that suggests anarchism. In spite of wigs -and ruffles they sped like hares down back alleys and scaled the high -college walls like monkeys to avoid a conversation with the Proctors and -their bulldogs. They sallied forth in trencher and gown, the insignia of -their allegiance to _Alma mater_, and in sheer high spirits set themselves -to bring about a fight with the jeering townees. Back to back they fought -against all odds, recking little of bleeding noses and broken pates. If -they drank too freely and encouraged the toasts, the blame was not -entirely theirs. They did but follow the fashion of the times. Their -password was thoroughness. Whatever they did, they did with all their -might. If they rang bells, they made the air hideous until they fell -exhausted. If they collected knockers they stripped a whole street before -their energy waned. If they slacked they slacked superbly. Without any of -the advantages brought about by modern ideas and inventions, our -predecessors were sportsmen to the core and just as we to-day employ every -moment of our four years to the fullest advantage so did the men who trod -Oxford streets in wigs and laces when she was two centuries younger. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the "Lunatics"--The Constitution - Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and minutes--High - Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers. - - -Year by year the places of those who go down are filled by succeeding -generations of public school men--men who are more conservative in ideas -than the members of any other class of society. Their immediate ambitions -are limited to achieving a Blue, capturing the presidency of the Union or -winning one of the big university prizes. - -They take things as they find them, and very rarely try to launch out on -new lines. They early discover that gregariousness is one of the chief -characteristics of an Oxford man. They find it exhibited in the -extraordinary number of clubs and societies in each college. Their natural -conservatism convinces them that as the forming of clubs is co-existent -with university life, they must not hesitate to follow the admirable -example of their seniors. With the untiring enthusiasm of youth they -concentrate their brains and energies therefore to the formation of new -clubs--having already become members of a great percentage of the -long-founded university clubs which are open to them. They make the -epoch-making discovery that many of their members have cut and dried ideas -on politics, and that others are big with new theories on social -conditions and the education of the masses. Heedless of the fact that in -reality these new theories and political arguments have been discussed and -thrashed out by thousands of Oxford men before they were born, they begin -in their obsession to institute new clubs--political, musical, literary, -debating, social, poetical--clubs of all kinds and conditions. They -cultivate gregariousness, if it is not already temperamental, as one of -the cardinal virtues. They foregather in each other's rooms nightly, -consume tremendous quantities of tobacco, cake, and coffee, and abide -feverishly by every rule of the particular society of which they are the -founders. - -In the eighteenth century the men were just as fond of foregathering; but -they laboured under severe disadvantages in connection with the -authorities, who looked upon the formation of clubs and societies as -something new and consequently revolutionary and dangerous. As an instance -of the hide-bound conservatism of the moss-grown powers that were I cannot -do better than take the case of Dibdin and the "Lunatics," a club which -was inaugurated at the very end of the eighteenth century. "Several -members of several colleges (in the number of whom I was as proud as happy -to be enlisted)," wrote Dibdin, "met frequently at each other's rooms, to -talk over and to concoct a code of laws or of regulations for the -establishment of a society to be called a 'Society for Scientific and -Literary Disquisition.' It comprehended a debate and an essay, to be -prepared by each member in succession, studiously avoiding, in both, all -topics of religious and political controversy. There was not the slightest -attempt to beat down any one barrier of university law of regulation -throughout our whole code. We were to meet in a hired room, at a private -house, and were to indulge in our favourite themes in the most -unrestrained manner, without giving ingress to a single stranger. Over and -over again was each law revised, corrected, and endeavoured to be rendered -as little objectionable as possible. At length, after the final touches, -we demanded an interview with the Vice-Chancellors and Proctors; and our -founder, William George Maton, of Queen's College, Messrs Stoddart, -Whitelock, Falconer (of Christ Church, Queen's and Corpus Colleges) were -deputed to meet the great men in office, and to report accordingly. - -"Dr Wills was then Vice-Chancellor.... He received the deputation in the -most courteous manner, and requested that the laws might be left with him, -as much for his own particular and careful examination as for that of -other heads of houses or officers whom he might choose to consult. His -request was as readily complied with, and a day was appointed when the -answer of the oracle might be obtained. In about a week, according to -agreement, the same deputation was received within the library of the -Vice-Chancellor who, after solemnly returning the volume (containing the -laws) into the hands of our worthy founder, addressed them pretty nearly -in the following words: 'Gentlemen, there does not appear to be anything -in these laws subversive of academic discipline, or contrary to the -statutes of the university--but (ah, that ill-omened But!) as it is -impossible to predict how they may operate, and as innovations of this -sort, and in these times, may have a tendency which may be as little -anticipated as it may be distressing to the framers of such laws, I am -compelled, in the exercise of my magisterial authority, as -Vice-Chancellor, to interdict your meeting in the manner proposed'"--and -then one can see him ringing for the servant to show them out, with a -polite smile on his fat face, in the usual red-tape manner. As, however, -the deputation was prepared for something of this sort they merely retired -politely, breathing murders and slaughterings against the archaism of the -institution of Vice-Chancellor. Returning to their room, they came to the -conclusion that as they did not intend to be beaten "there was, -therefore, one result to adopt--one choice left; and that was, to carry -the object, so dear to our hearts, into effect within our private -apartments in rotation. There we might discuss, debate, and hear essays -read _ad infinitum_; and, accordingly, our first meeting took place in -Queen's College, at the rooms of our founder, afterwards so long and so -well known in the medical world as Dr Maton."[16] - -After this preliminary check from the Vice-Chancellor, who, in charity be -it said, probably could not help himself, and was only doing his duty -according to his lights, the club throve like a bay tree and became -exceedingly famous. "Our society was quickly enlarged, and the present -Bishop of Llandaff, then a student of Corpus College, and the Rev. John -Horseman, afterwards a tutor in the same college, were enrolled members. -The two Moncrieffs of Baliol were also among our earlier acquisitions, and -some gentlemen commoners of Trinity College (whose name I have forgotten) -together with my oldest, and among my most valued friends, Mr Barwis of -Queen's, Mr Gibson (afterwards called Riddell) of Worcester, and George -Foster of Lincoln--all united to give strength and respectability to our -association. Our meetings were frequent and full. The essays after having -been read, were entered in a book; and I am not sure whether, at this very -day, such book be not in existence. The subjects of debate usually were, -as of old they ever had been, whether the merits or demerits of such a -character (Cæsar or Queen Elizabeth, for instance) were the greater? Or -whether the good or evil of such a measure in legislation or in politics, -the more predominent. Of our speakers, the elder Moncrieff, and George -Forster of Lincoln were doubtless the most fluent and effective; -especially the latter, who had a fervency of utterance which was at times -surprising. But the younger Moncrieff, in course of time, followed his -brother, _passibus aequis_. Taking the art of speaking and the composition -of an essay together, I think Mr (now Sir John) Stoddart of Christ Church -beat us all. He was always upon his legs, a fearless opponent, and in the -use of a pen the most unpremeditating and successful.... - -"Meanwhile the fame of our club, or society, began to be noised abroad; -and those who felt no inclination to write essays, or to impose upon -themselves the toil of reading and research for the purpose of making a -speech, were pretty free in using sneering epithets, and in stigmatising -by nicknames. There was, however, _one_ nickname which we instantly and -courageously took to ourselves and adopted--and that was the 'Lunatics.' -Mad, indeed we were, and desired so to be called--if an occasional -deviation from dull and hard drinking, frivolous gossip, and Boeotian -uproar, could justify that appellation." - -Undoubtedly the origin of present-day first year societies, which, unlike -the "Lunatics," are nearly always ephemeral affairs, may be found in the -recollections of Richard Graves, in which, referring to William Shenstone, -he says, "Our more familiar acquaintance commenced by an invitation from -Mr Shenstone to breakfast at his chambers, which we accepted; and which, -according to the sociable disposition of most young people, was protracted -to a late hour; during which, Mr Shenstone, I remember, in order to detain -us, produced Cotton's 'Virgil Travestie,' which he had lately met with; -and which, though full of indelicacies and low humour, is certainly a most -laughable performance. I displayed my slender stock of critical knewledge -by applauding, as a work of equal humour, Echard's 'Causes of the Contempt -of the Clergy.' Mr Whistler, who was a year or two older than either of -us, I believe, and had finished his school education at Eton, preferred -Pope's 'Rape of the Lock,' as a higher species of humour than anything we -had produced. In short, this morning's lounge, which seemed mutually -agreeable, was succeeded by frequent repetitions of them; and at length, -by our meeting likewise, almost every evening, at each other's chambers -the whole summer, where we read plays and poetry, _Spectators_ and -_Tatlers_, and other works of easy digestion, and sipped Florence -wine."[17] - -There were many famous clubs in the eighteenth century, each of which had -an individuality of its own. Just as the "Lunatics" was literary and -debating, the Constitution Club was political and aggressive, the Oxford -Poetical Club considered itself really poetical, and the High Borlace was -purely social and jovial. - -The Constitution Club had its headquarters at the King's Head Tavern in -the High. Its members "included five fellows, a chaplain and four -gentlemen commoners of New College, one gentleman commoner and seven -others of Oriel, three of Christ Church; Hart Hall, Worcester, All Souls, -Merton, St John's, Trinity, and Wadham contributed at least one member -each--usually a gentleman commoner."[18] The motives of its institution -were, according to Amhurst, as follows: "The society took its rise from -the iniquity of the times, and was intended to promote and cultivate -friendship between all such persons as favour'd our present happy -constitution; they thought themselves obliged openly and publickly to avow -their loyalty, and manifest their sincere affection to King George upon -all proper and becoming occasions, and to check, as much as in them lay, -the vast torrent of treason and dissaffection which overflow'd the -university. They thought it their duty to show all possible marks of -respect to those faithful officers, who were so seasonably sent to that -place, by the favour of the government, to protect the quiet part of -the king's subjects, and to suppress the tumultuary practices of the -profess'd enemies to his majesty's person and government; and for -constantly adhering to what they thought their duty in those points; and -for no other cause, that they can apprehend, they have been so unfortunate -as to become obnoxious to the university, and to feel, many of them, the -severe effects of their resentments." - -[Illustration: A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE.] - -How much truth there is in this account of the lofty aims and patriotic -ambitions of this club, and whether Amhurst was one of the St John's men -who were members, and consequently had his facts first hand, or whether it -is merely an account written round one or two of the club's actions, it is -impossible to ascertain. At any rate Amhurst seems to have dropped his -sarcasm, and to have written straightforwardly and sincerely on their -behalf. So that it is only fair to conclude that they had these objects, -more or less, in view. In proof of his statements Christopher Wordsworth -tells us that "on the king's birthday, the 28th of May aforesaid, the -whole body of the Constitution Club met together at a tavern and ordered -the windows of the house to be illuminated, and some faggots to be -prepared for a bonfire. But before the bonfire could be lighted, a very -numerous mob, which was hired for that purpose, tore to pieces the -faggots, and then assaulted the room where the club was sitting, with -brickbats and stones. All the time that the mob was thus employed, the -disaffected scholars, who had crowded the houses and streets near the -tavern, continued throwing up their caps and scattering money amongst the -rabble and shouting, 'Down with the Constitutioners; down with the Whigs; -no George; James for ever; Ormond, Bolingbroke,' etc.... The -Constitutioners thought it prudent to make the best of their way to their -colleges for the night. On the Sunday the club met again at Oriel, and -were the objects of the indignation of the mob, who thronged the streets -at six o'clock. A Brasenose man was wounded by a gunshot fired by one of -the Constitutioners, or their friends in Oriel, after which the crowd -retired to pull down the conventicles." (This account of the affair is -given as being less biassed than Amhurst's, which, in substance, is -identical, but does not tally in one or two details.) - -The fat was consequently sizzling noisily in the fire. The whole place -discussed nothing else for days. Prosecutions were hourly made in the -Vice-Chancellor's court. The grand jury of Oxfordshire made a -"presentment" in no ordered terms against the Constitutioners, who also -met with "unjust and scandalous usage" in St Mary's, Golgotha, the -Theatre, Convocation House, and the Schools, which all rang with -"invectives and anathemas against them.... Even those grave tools, the -Vice-Chancellor and Proctors, to enliven their dull harangues, and gain -the applause of the subordinate rabble, never fail'd, in their most solemn -speeches before the convocation, to fall foul and heavy on the -Constitution Club." The noise of the affair reached as far as the ears of -the King himself, and "rattling letters" were sent to the Vice-Chancellor. - -The Oxford Poetical Club was very famous in 1721. To obtain any accurate -idea of its constitution and objects it is necessary to strike the happy -mean between the accounts of it which are given by Amhurst and Erasmus -Philipps. The latter recorded in his diary that on 17th August of that -year he "went with Mr Tristram to the Poetical Club (whereof he is a -member) at the Tuns, kept by Mr Broadgate, where met Dr Evans, Fellow of -St John's, and Mr Jno. Jones, Fellow of Balliol, members of the club. -Subscribed 5s. to Dr Evans's 'Hymen and Juno' (which one merrily call'd -Evans's Bubble, it being now South Sea Time). Drank Galicia wine, and was -entertained with two Fables of the Doctor's composition, which were indeed -masterly in their kind; but the Doctor is allowed to have a peculiar -knack, and to excell all mankind at a Fable."[19] - -Amhurst, by no means a respecter of persons, devoted two papers to -ridiculing the poetry club, from which I cull the following: "Divers -eminent and most ingenious gentlemen, true lovers and judges of poetry, -having with great grief observ'd that noble art declining in Oxford (its -antient seat and fountain) resolv'd, if possible, to restore it to its -pristine vigour and glory. They justly apprehended, both from reason and -experience, that a critical lecture, once a term, though never so -judicious, was not sufficient; and that the theory of any art was -defective without the practice; and, therefore, they thought the best -method to forward this design would be to institute a weekly meeting of -the finest geniuses and _beaux esprits_ of the university, at a certain -place, to be appointed by them, where they might debate the cause of -poetry, and put its laws into regular execution. This proposal was -immediately assented to; and the next question was, where to meet? - -"This occasioned a short debate, some speaking in favour of the King's -Head, and some declaring for the Crown; but they were both opposed by -others, who presum'd that the Three Tuns would suit them much better; in -which they carry'd their point, and the Three Tuns was thereupon nominated -the place of meeting, upon these two proviso's, that Mr Broadgate would -keep good wine and a pretty wench at the bar; both which are by all -criticks allow'd to be of indispensable use in poetical operations." - -The alleged cause of this picturesque enumeration of imaginary details -was that several poems had appeared at that time in the newspapers with -the public sanction of the club. Terrae Filius immediately began to puzzle -his brain as to the membership of the club and its intentions. For a time -he admitted himself entirely baffled, but at last "chance, almighty -chance," prospered his wishes. As the result of his enquiries he -discovered the rules of the society to be:-- - -"1. That no person be admitted a member of this society, without Letters -Testimonial, to be sign'd by three persons of credit, that he has -distinguished himself in some tale, catch, sonnet, epigram, madrigal, -anagram, acrostick, tragedy, comedy, farce, or epick poem. - -"2. That no person be admitted a member of this society, who has any -visible way of living, or can spend five shillings per annum _de proprio_; -it being an established maxim, that no rich man can be a good poet. - -"3. That no member presume to discover the secrets of this society to any -body whatsoever, upon pain of expulsion. - -"4. That no member in any of his lucubrations do transgress the rules of -Aristotle, or any other sound critick, antient or modern, under pain of -having his said lucubrations burnt, in a full club, by the hands of the -small-beer drawer. - -"5. That no member do presume in any of his writings, to reflect on the -Church of England, as by law established, or either of the two famous -universities, or upon any magistrate or member of the same under pain of -having his said writings burnt as aforesaid and being himself expell'd. - -"6. That no tobacco be smoked in this society; the fumigation thereof -being supposed to cloud the poetical faculty, and to clog the subtle -wheels of the Imagination. - -"7. That no member do repeat any verses, without leave first had and -obtained from Mr President. - -"8. That no person be allowed above the space of one hour at a time to -repeat. - -"9. That no person do print any of his verses, without the approbation of -the major part of the society, under pain of expulsion. - -"10. That every member do subscribe his name to the foregoing articles." - -These rules, before finally settled upon, had been fully discussed. A -member, by name Dr Crassus, took strong objection to the smoking rule -because he was covered with a superfluity of adipose tissue, and held that -the use of tobacco "would carry off those noxious heavy particles which -turn the edge of his fancy, and obstruct his intellectual perspiration." -He was backed up by a medical friend, and the result was that a special -exception was made in his sole favour. A second gentleman said that he -could not declare with a "safe conscience" that he was unable to spend -five shillings per annum _de proprio_; but the President ably settled the -point by observing that "as God is the sole author and disposer of all -Things, we cannot in strict sense, call any thing our own; nor say that we -have any visible way of living, our daily bread being the only bounty of -His invisible hand, and therefore you may, _salvâ conscientiâ_, declare -that you have no visible way of living; and that you cannot spend five -shillings per annum _de proprio_, though according to vain human -computation, you are worth five thousand pounds a year." The final -objection raised, before the rules were at last suitably framed and hung -over the mantelpiece in the club-room, was that one of the gentlemen could -not subscribe to Rule 10. He could not write, and therefore could not -comply with the strict letter of the law. If, however, he could be allowed -to make his mark, the whole difficulty could be settled out of hand. This -was agreed to without hesitation, "it being truly no uncommon Thing in -many an excellent poet." - -Not content with thus pouring ridicule upon their foundation and -institution, Amhurst, in his subsequent paper in which he described their -first meeting absolutely surpassed himself at their expense. - - MINUTES OF THE OXFORD POETICAL CLUB. - - "The members being met, and Mr President having assum'd the chair, - three preliminary bumpers pass'd round the board; after which Dr - Crassus, in pursuance of the power granted him, as mentioned in our - last, retir'd to a snug corner of the room where a little table was - placed for him, with pipes and tobacco upon it; then the doctor - handled his Arms; and as he was glazing his pipe with a Ball of - superfine wax, which he always carried in his pocket for that use, he - alarm'd the room with a sudden peal of laughter, which drew the eyes - of the assembly towards him, and made all of them very solicitous to - know the conceit which occasioned it; but the doctor was not, for - several minutes, able to do it, the fit continuing upon him, and - growing louder and louder; at last, when it began to intermit, he made - a shift to reveal the cause of his mirth thus:-- - - "'Why, gentlemen,' said he,--'ha! ha! ha!--why, gentlemen, I say the - prettiest Epigram! ha! ha! ha! I cannot tell you for my life--I have - made, I say, upon this ball of wax here, ha! ha! ha!--that you ever - heard in your lives. Shall I repeat it, Mr President?' - - "'By all means, doctor,' said he; 'no body more proper to open the - assembly than Doctor Crassus!' - - "Then the doctor compos'd his countenance, and standing up, with the - ball of wax in his right hand, pronounc'd the following distich with - an heroick emphasis. - - "'This wax, d'ye see, with which my pipe I glaze, - Is the best wax I ever us'd in all my days.' - - "'Ha! ha! ha! How d'ye like it, gentlemen ha! ha! ha! Is it not very - pretty gentlemen?' - - "'Very pretty, without flattery, doctor,' said they all; 'very - excellent, indeed.' - - "Upon which the doctor smiled pleasantly, and lighted his pipe.... - During the first part of the night their thoughts were something - gloomy and run upon elegies and epitaphs upon living as well as dead - men; but you will find them brighten up as the night advance and the - bottles increase. They begin with satire and funeral lamentation; but - end with love, smuttiness and a song"--and there I will leave them. - -The High Borlace was a Tory club which, says Christopher Wordsworth, "had -a convivial meeting held annually at the King's Head Tavern in Oxford, on -the 18th of August (or, if that fell on a Sunday, on the 19th, as in -1734), on which occasion Dr Leigh, Master of Balliol, was of the High -Borlace and the first clergyman who had attended. It seems to have been -patronised by the county families, and it is not improbable that there was -a ball connected with it. The members chose a Lady Patroness: in 1732 Miss -Stonhouse; 1733, Miss Molly Wickham of Garsington; 1734 Miss Anne Cope, -daughter of Sir Jonathan Cope of Bruern." - -In the _Gentleman's Magazine_ in the year 1765 there was the following -reference: "Monday Aug. 19, was held at the Angel inn, at Oxford, the High -Borlase, when Lady Harriott Somerset was chosen Lady Patroness for the -year ensuing." - -Of other smaller clubs there were the Freecynics in 1737, which Dr -Rawlinson describes as "a kind of Philosophical Club who have a set of -symbolical words and grimaces, unintelligible to any but those of their -own society," and the Nonsense Club, founded by George Coleman, Bonnel -Thornton and Lloyd about 1750. The latter would seem from its name to be a -revival of the earlier Banterers existing almost a century before, who are -described by Wood as "a set of scholars so-called, some M.A., who make it -their employment to talk at a venture, lye, and prate what nonsense they -please, if they see a man talk seriously they talk floridly nonsense, and -care not what he says; this is like throwing a cushion at a man's head -that pretends to be grave and wise." Although Coleman assisted to found -the Nonsense Club he makes no reference to it in his reminiscences, so it -is more than probable that it was merely the whim of a term or so. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen--The - "Vindication"--Opposing and responding--"Schemes"--Doing - austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents--Magdalen collections. - - -Nowadays work is a factor in university life which has to be seriously -reckoned with. However strong one's intentions to do none, however -convinced one may be of the complete absurdity and futility of cramming -dull stuff for no apparent good reasons, when there is such a glorious -time to be had doing nothing in the mornings and "sweating" at athletics -in the afternoons, yet the Dons have of late acquired a foolish habit of -sending a man down unless he succeeds in scraping through certain -examinations. - -They feel it to be essential, through some misguided feeling of duty, to -harry the athlete and outdoor man, and at certain periods, even, to hound -him in white tie, and as much gown as he can lay hands on, to the schools, -and if, on his final exit from their clutches, they are not satisfied with -the results of his cramming, they invert their thumbs and down he goes! It -matters not whether he be merely a humble eightsman or the all-important -President of the Boat Club. The examiners are no respecters of persons, -and fear no man nor beast. The athlete retires willy nilly. - -How different were the Dons' views in Georgian times! Amhurst, serious for -once, declared that the keynote of the century was tolerated ignorance. He -made the statement boldly in the face of the high reputation of the Dons -for learning and classical knowledge, in defiance of the wrath of the -entire university. He was justified in making such an assertion, and I -have tried to prove the truth of his words in the course of this chapter. - -"A gentleman commoner," he said, "if he be a man of fortune, is soon told -that it is not expected from one of his form to mind exercises; if he is -studious, he is morose, and a heavy bookish fellow; if he keeps a cellar -of wine, the good natur'd fellows will indulge him, tho' he should be too -heavy-headed to be at chapel in the morning." - -In proof of this assertion I will take the case, from a sheaf of others, -of Mr Harris, afterwards Lord Malmesbury, who was an Undergraduate of -Merton in 1763. "The discipline of the university happened also at this -particular moment to be so lax," he wrote, "that a gentleman -commoner"--and it would seem not to be of great moment whether he had -riches or not--"was under no restraint, and never called upon to attend -either lectures, or chapel, or hall. My tutor, an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practise of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to be taught trigonometry. The set of men with whom -I lived were very pleasant but very idle fellows. Our life was an -imitation of high life in London." The entire lack of compulsion to work, -however, did not by any means cause Harris and his friends to dwindle into -mere "wasters." From that little coterie eventually emerged Charles Fox -and William Eden. - -Gibbon, the historian of world-wide renown, never did one stroke of work -while at Magdalen, nor was he ever asked, with any firmness, to do so. In -his much discussed reminiscences he set down that "some duties may -possibly have been imposed on the poor scholars, whose ambition aspired to -the peaceful honours of a scholarship; but no independent members were -admitted below the rank of gentleman commoner, and our velvet cap was the -cap of liberty." Commenting upon the prevailing slackness of tutors, -Gibbon quoted his own experiences. The learned doctor to whose care he was -first confided, described as "one of the best of the tribe," had suggested -that Gibbon should read the comedies of Terence every morning with him. -"During the first weeks," wrote Gibbon, "I constantly attended these -lessons in my tutor's rooms; but as they appeared equally devoid of profit -and pleasure, I was once tempted to try the experiment of a formal -apology. The apology was accepted with a smile. I repeated the offence -with less ceremony; the excuse was admitted with the same indulgence; the -slightest motive of laziness or indisposition, the most trifling avocation -at home or abroad, was allowed as a worthy impediment; nor did my tutor -appear conscious of my absence or neglect.... No plan of study was -recommended for my use; no exercises were prescribed for his inspection; -and at that most precious season of youth, whole days and weeks were -suffered to elapse, without labour or amusement, without advice or -account."[20] - -Such was the sum total of Gibbon's relations with that worthy and -excellent man, for, the following term, he found on his arrival, that he -had departed from the college and that another tutor was installed in his -place. Of his connection with this second tutor the Magdalen man wrote as -follows: "Instead of guiding the studies, and watching over the behaviour -of his disciple, I was never summoned to attend even the ceremony of a -lecture; and, excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms, during the eight -months of his titular office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same -college as strangers to each other." These accusations against the -Magdalen discipline have been most heatedly "vindicated" by the Rev. -James Hurdis, who declared it to have been more Gibbon's fault than the -Dons' that he was not looked after, because he gave flippant excuses which -he dubbed formal apologies, and had not the patience to continue the -course of lectures arranged and delivered by his tutors. - -These vindicatory arguments do not hold water. All men will evade -authority if they can. Therefore it is surely the place of the tutor to -put his foot down and issue orders instead of letting his pupil wander at -will and do no work. - -In all the many descriptions of a day in the life of a Smart, or an -ordinary gentleman commoner, or the river man, no references are to be -found as to their doing any work. On the contrary, Skinner said that -"Aristotle has been deserted for the bottle," and launched into -descriptions of the empty schools. With tutors who considered politics and -consequent individual preferment of far greater importance than the mere -conning of pupils' work, it is not to be wondered at that the only men who -did any work were those who were "bookish" by nature and preferred a quiet -studious life to one of revelry and slacking. For the most part these -worked independently of Dons, entirely of their own volition. As far as a -good degree went, it was utterly useless; for the method of passing -university examinations was, to put it mildly, a farce. The veracity of -Vicesimus Knox is not for one moment to be questioned, so that the -following account may be taken as a fair example of the customs of the -times. - -"The youth, whose heart pants for the honour of a Bachelor of Arts degree, -must wait patiently till near four years have revolved. But this time is -not to be spent idly. No; he is obliged, during this period, once to -oppose, and once to respond, in disputations held in the public schools--a -formidable sound and a dreadful idea; but, on closer attention, the fear -will vanish, and contempt supply its place. This opposing and responding -is termed, in the cant of the place, _doing generals_. Two boys, or men, -as they call themselves, agree to do generals together. The first step in -this mighty work is to procure arguments. These are always handed down, -from generation to generation, on long slips of paper, and consist of -foolish syllogisms on foolish subjects; of the formation or the -signification of which the respondent and opponent seldom know more than -an infant in swaddling clothes. The next step is to go for a _liceat_ to -one of the petty officers, called the Regent Master of the Schools, who -subscribes his name to the questions and receives sixpence as his fee. -When the important day arrives, the two doughty disputants go into a large -dusty room, full of dirt and cobwebs, with walls and wainscot decorated -with the names of former disputants, who to divert the tedious hours cut -out their names with their penknives, or wrote verses with a pencil. Here -they sit in mean desks, opposite to each other, from one o'clock till -three. Not once in a hundred times does any officer enter; and, if he -does, he hears one syllogism or two, and then makes a bow, and departs, as -he came and remained, in solemn silence. The disputants then return to the -amusement of cutting the desks, carving their names, or reading Sterne's -'Sentimental Journey,' or some other edifying novel. When this exercise is -duly performed by both parties, they have a right to the title and -insignia of Sophs; but not before they have been formally created by one -of the regent-masters.... This work done, a great progress is made towards -the wished-for honour of a Bachelor's degree. There remain only one or two -trifling forms, and another disputation, almost exactly similar to doing -generals, but called _answering under bachelor_, previous to the awful -examination. Every candidate is obliged to be examined in the whole -circle of the sciences by three Masters of Arts _of his own choice_. The -examination is to be held in one of the public schools, and to continue -from nine o'clock till eleven. The masters take a most solemn oath, that -they will examine properly and impartially. Dreadful as all this appears, -there is always found to be more of appearance in it than reality, for the -greatest dunce usually gets his _testimonium_ signed with as much ease and -credit as the finest genius. The manner of proceeding is as follows: The -poor young man to be examined in the sciences often knows no more of them -than his bedmaker, and the masters who examine are sometimes equally -unacquainted with such mysteries. But _schemes_, as they are called, or -little books, containing forty or fifty questions on each science, are -handed down, from age to age, from one to another. The candidate to be -examined employs three or four days in learning these by heart, and the -examiners, having done the same before him when they were examined, know -what questions to ask, and so all goes on smoothly. When the candidate has -displayed his universal knowledge of the sciences, he is to display his -skill in philology. One of the masters, therefore, desires him to construe -a passage in some Greek or Latin classic, which he does with no -interruption, just as he pleases, and as well as he can. The statutes next -require that he should translate familiar English phrases into Latin. And -now is the time when the masters show their wit and jocularity. Droll -questions are put on any subject, and the puzzled candidate furnishes -diversion by his awkward embarrassment. I have known the questions on this -occasion to consist of an enquiry into the pedigree of a race-horse.... -This familiarity, however, only takes place when the examiners are pot -companions of the candidate, which indeed is usually the case; for it is -reckoned good management to get acquainted with two or three jolly young -Masters of Arts and supply them well with port, previously to the -examination. If the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors happen to enter the -school, a very uncommon event, then a little solemnity is put on, very -much to the confusion of the masters, as well as of the boy, who is -sitting in the little box opposite them. As neither the officer, nor any -one else usually enters the room (for it is reckoned very _ungenteel_) the -examiners and the candidates often converse on the last drinking bout, or -on horses, or read the newspaper, or a novel, or divert themselves as well -as they can in any manner till the clock strikes eleven, when all parties -descend, and the _testimonium_, is signed by the masters. With this -_testimonium_ in his possession the candidate is sure of success. The day -in which the honour is to be conferred arrives; he appears in the -Convocation House, he takes an abundance of oaths, pays a sum of money in -fees, and, after kneeling down before the Vice-Chancellor, and whispering -a lie, rises up a Bachelor of Arts."[21] - -In order, therefore, to obtain the coveted privilege of going in for all -these learned and difficult examinations, an Undergraduate had to calm his -impatience and enjoy himself as best he could for four years. Then, having -succeeded in getting himself fairly comfortably in debt, having learned -how to string off a sonnet to the reigning toast and drink himself under -the table, he was esteemed ripe for the whispering of a lie, and was -conveniently fitted out with a degree. What more simple? - -"And now, if he aspires at higher honours (and what emulous spirit can sit -down without aspiring at them?) new labours and new difficulties are to be -encountered during the space of three years. He must _determine_ in Lent, -he must _do quodlibets_, he must _do austens_, he must declaim twice, he -must read six solemn lectures, and he must be again examined in the -sciences, before he can be promoted to the degree of Master of Arts. None -but the initiated can know what _determining_, doing _quodlibets_, and -doing _austens_ mean. I have not room to enter into a minute description -of such contemptible minutiæ. Let it be sufficient to say, that these -exercises consist of disputations of syllogisms, procured and uttered -nearly in the same places, time, and manner, as we have already seen them -in doing generals. There is, however, a great deal of trouble in little -formalities, such as procuring sixpenny _liceats_, sticking up the names -on the walls, sitting in large empty rooms by yourself, or with some poor -wight as ill-employed as yourself, without anything to say or do, wearing -hoods and a little piece of lambskin wool on it, and a variety of other -particulars too tedious and too trifling to enumerate." - -The eighteenth-century lad became an Undergraduate on condition of -subscribing to a lie, and was sent down as a not undistinguished man after -seven years by pronouncing another in the ear of the Vice-Chancellor. - -"As university degrees are supposed to be badges of learning and merit, -there ought to be some qualifications requisite to wear them, besides -perjury, and treason, and paying a multitude of fees, which seem to be the -three principal things insisted upon in our universities," said Terrae -Filius--and the persistent joker spoke never a truer word. While -discussing the same question with some bitterness he asserted that a -schoolboy has done more learned things for his breaking-up task than were -required of an Oxford man after seven years' residence. He more than bore -out Knox's words as to the custom of making one's examiner drunk and so -avoiding the irksome necessity of being asked awkward questions by him. -"It is also well known," he wrote, "to be the custom for the candidates -either to present their examiners with a piece of gold, or to give them an -handsome entertainment, and make them drunk; which they commonly do the -night before examination, and sometimes keep them till morning, and so -adjourn, cheek by joul, from their drinking-room to the school where they -are to be examined. _Quaere_, whether it would not be very ungrateful of -the examiner to refuse any candidate a _testimonium_ who has treated him -so splendidly over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail'd -upon by bribes?" - -So that in addition to making him drunk and incapable, but not -disorderly--necessarily--the astute candidate, realising that the degree's -the thing, paid him a metaphorical thirty pieces of silver for his -betrayal. Moreover, the collectors, that is to say the Dons who were in -control of the determining, decided the days upon which the candidates -were to present themselves. On certain days called "gracious" days, the -examiners were only required to stay in the schools for half the usual -time. The consequence was, explained Terrae, "The collectors having it in -their power to dispose of all the schools and days in what manner they -please, are very considerable persons, and great application is made to -them for gracious days and good schools; but especially to avoid being -posted or dogg'd, which commonly happens to be their lot who have no money -in their pockets." - -The statues of course forbade collectors to receive presents, but a wink -is as good as a nod, and it was customary for every determiner upon -presenting himself to give the collector a "broad or half a broad." In -return for this douceur "Mr Collector," said Amhurst, "entertains his -benefactors with a good supper and as much wine as they can drink, besides -gracious days and commodious schools. I have heard that some collectors -have made four score or an hundred guineas of this place." - -The conclusion which is inevitably arrived at is that the examinations -for, and in fact the whole question of obtaining a degree, were a farce -and a sham, and that the authorities cared little who got one so long as -they received their fees and were left in peace to smoke and tope in the -common rooms. - -The attendance at college exercises seems to have been equally dilatory. -Gibbon said that the Magdalen College exercises were futile and a waste of -time. He was tacitly allowed to stay away from them. The vindicator of -Magdalen, thinking to nail Gibbon down, went to the trouble of enumerating -term by term the exercises which the Undergraduates were supposed to -perform. As interesting reading it is worthy of quotation, but as a _coup -de grace_ to Gibbon it is absurd. If all Magdalen men were bound to -attend, why was Gibbon allowed to absent himself, or, if not allowed, why -was he not hauled over the coals?--and it is ridiculous to suppose that -Gibbon's example was not followed by scores of fellow collegians. The -present-day "colleckers," held terminally, are, more or less, in the -nature of a joke, but in those days, in spite of Hurdis's burning loyalty -to Magdalen, the following exercises which correspond to them are -fearsome-sounding enough, but were more often than not unattended. "At the -end of every term, from his admission till he takes his first degree, -every individual Undergraduate of this college must appear at a _public -examination_ before the President, Vice-President, Deans, and whatever -Fellows may please to attend; and cannot obtain leave to return to his -friends in any vacation, till he has properly acquitted himself according -to the following scheme. - -"In his _first_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first term, in _Sallust_ and the _Characters of Theophrastus_. - - "In the second Term, in the first six books of Virgil's _Aeneis_ and - the first three books of Xenophon's _Anabasis_. - - "In the third Term, in the last six books of the _Aeneis_ and the last - four books of the _Anabasis_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the Gospels of St Matthew and St Mark, on - which sacred books the persons examined are always called upon to - produce a collection of observations from the best commentators. - -[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN.] - -"During his _second_ year, the Undergraduate must make himself a -proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in Cæsar's _Commentaries_, and the first six books - of Homer's _Iliad_. - - "In the second Term, in _Cicero de Oratore_, and the second six books - of the _Iliad_. - - "In the third Term, in _Cicero de Officiis_ and the _Dion Hal. de - structura Orationis_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the gospels of St Luke and St John, producing - a collection of observations from commentators as at the end of the - first year. - -"During his _third_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in the first six books of Livy and Xenophon's - _Cyropaedia_. - - "In the second Term, in Xenophon's _Memorabilia_, and in Horace's - Epistles and Art of Poetry. - - "In the third Term, in _Cicero de natura Deorum_, and in the first, - third, eighth, tenth, thirteenth and fourteenth of Juvenal's - _Satires_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the first four epistles of St Paul, producing - collections as before. - -"During his _fourth_ and last year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in the first six books of the 'Annals of Tacitus,' - and in the _Electra_ of Sophocles. - - "In the second Term, in Cicero's 'Orations' against Catilina, and in - those of Ligarius and Archias; and also in those Orations of - Demosthenes which are contained in Mounteney's edition. - - "In the third Term, in the 'Dialogues' of Plato published by Dr - Forster, and in the _Georgics_ of Virgil. - - "In the fourth Term, in the remaining ten Epistles of St Paul and the - Epistles general, producing collections as before." - -The above is undoubtedly a little programme guaranteed to keep the average -Undergraduate fairly busy in the use of midnight oil. But--how odd it is -that there is ever a "but"--the excited vindicator rather spoilt matters -and lessened the terrors of the programme by stating in his preliminary -paragraph that only those Dons were present "who may please to attend!" -Having digested already some few facts concerning the habits and hobbies -of the eighteenth-century Don, as well as the liberty accorded to -gentlemen commoners, there is no need to waste sympathy on "every -individual Undergraduate" of Magdalen. He merely lowered the right eyelid, -tapped the left nostril with the left index digit and "obtained leave to -return to his friends in any Vacation," with the greatest ease and speed -and the most cordial of farewells to the President, Vice-President, Deans, -and any of the Fellows who cared to attend. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -'VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson's _Oxford Journal_--Domestic - intelligence--Election poems--Curious advertisements--Superabundance - of St John's editors--Terrae Filius. - - -There is some indefinable element in the atmosphere of Oxford which has -always excited an itch for writing. The sister university can, of course, -point to many sons whose names stand high in the literary firmament, but -they do not amount to a tithe of the number of great writers who have -passed through Oxford. Oxford may be the home of lost causes, but she is -also the cradle for infant pens. Generations of pens splutter their first -incoherencies behind the comparative shelter of the city walls through -which the harsh criticism of maturer writers cannot penetrate. In stilted -phraseology and doubtful grammar they cover numberless sheets with -emotional outpourings. There may be future literary geniuses hidden among -them, but from those early imitative strivings it is difficult to single -out even one. They are novices who humbly apprentice themselves to the -profession of letters. From time to time some quite brilliant piece of -work throws up more vividly the amateurishness of the rest. Such meteoric -flashes are, however, rare, and thus the general standard does not rise -above mediocrity. It is because all Undergraduate pens are very young and -inexperienced that the present-day 'varsity papers can make no claim to -literary distinction. To their credit be it said that they do not. They -are content to remain just 'varsity papers--which is synonymous with -saying that they are either tediously over-academic or peculiarly inane; -that their light articles are excellent imitations of the halfpenny comic -papers, that their serious efforts are most praiseworthy for their -capacity for inflicting boredom, and that their editorials border upon the -inept. - -It is not an unknown thing for a present-day Undergraduate paper, which is -supposedly conducted _by_ Undergraduates _for_ Undergraduates to be owned -and financed by a local tradesman. He, being thus in supreme command, -maintains a private blue pencil, and, obsessed by the idea that because he -sells pens and inks he is therefore a man of parts and literary -consideration, rules the poor devil of an Undergraduate editor with a rod -of iron. What is the result? It is that the average 'varsity paper is -composed of childish leaders edited by the financier; a series of vastly -foolish and unentertaining remarks which may or may not have been heard in -the Broad; pages of notes which are half-frightened comments on the week's -doings written invariably by critics who have not sufficient pluck to say -that they consider the person or thing under criticism to be either -thoroughly bad or supremely excellent; a mawkish account of the speeches -delivered in the Union Society's Debates, written with the condescending -patronage of the old stager, by some self-satisfied ex-official, himself a -thoroughly bad speaker and so totally unqualified to criticise; a -collection of dramatic criticisms of the bi-weekly pieces at the New -Theatre, scribbled by some musical comedy enthusiast who, in addition to a -total ignorance of the drama, has been warned by the financier of the -paper to say nice things however bad the play or the acting in order to -secure free seats from the theatre; and, lastly, a fulsome and -objectionably personal article which purports to be a biography of a -well-known Oxford man. - -Perhaps under these Gilbertian conditions it is no wonder that the -literary efforts of Georgian times put those of the present to shame. In -the eighteenth century university journals were at least independent. They -looked for no pecuniary assistance from local ironmongers or haberdashers. -The consequence is that although the contributors were beginners whose -efforts were the result of the itch for writing brought on by that -indefinable element which was in the atmosphere of Oxford then as now, -their work was unhampered by any outside considerations. The literary -standard was not of the highest order. How could it be when the writers -were lads varying from eighteen to twenty years of age? It was, however, -higher than that of to-day. On turning over the various 'varsity papers of -two centuries ago, an uncomfortable sensation of that most unusual -emotion--humility--inevitably results, because there is undoubtedly found -in them much that is witty, fearless, original, vivid, and entertaining. - -In those days the editor drew up a scheme for running his paper, and -adhered to it in defiance of Don and man. Now, however, in his frantic -efforts to keep life in his moribund sheet, the editor does not see that -his copy is good and worth printing, copy guaranteed to sell largely. That -is not the idea. The only way to secure financial soundness is, he finds, -to pander to the advertisers by the shifty method of writing puffs for -cigarettes, soaps, wines, and so on, in a column which bears a disguised -and misleading heading, and which is an insult to the intelligence of his -youngest reader. - -In analysing the university journals of the eighteenth century I will -begin with the year 1753, when the inhabitants of Oxford and the -surrounding counties were enlivened by Jackson's _Oxford Journal_. As to -its make-up the editor announced that, "This paper will be more complete -than any that has hitherto appeared in this Part of the Kingdom. For -besides the Articles of News, Foreign and Domestic, in which we shall -endeavour to surpass every other Paper, our Situation will enable us to -oblige our readers with a particular account of every Transaction relating -to the present Opposition in Oxfordshire, as also with a Variety of -curious Pieces in Prose and Verse, on both sides of the Question; which no -other Paper can procure." Having made this declaration of his _modus -operandi_ Jackson adhered to it rigidly and fully. His columns of foreign -news were stocked with items of note and interest. Foreign politics, wars, -rumours of wars, agricultural depressions or rises were all included, and -came from the uttermost parts of the earth. The domestic intelligence -covered the movements of the King and royal family, meetings of celebrated -London societies, and chatty descriptions of assaults and batteries. In -one issue there was a sporting account of how "a young man ran from Queen -Street, Cheapside, to Hornsey Wood, and back again, in one Hour and four -minutes." The next paragraph related that "the same Morning was found -drowned in the River, William Andrew, a Master Taylor in Spital Fields. -His watch and Money, with two Rings on his Finger, were found upon him." -This little tragedy was immediately followed by an incident of comedy -which occurred in the London streets. - -"Between Five and Six o'clock on Sunday Evening an uncommon Scheme was put -in Execution by a Gang of Pickpockets in St James's Park. A Person very -well dressed fixing himself with great Attention, as tho' he saw something -particular in the Air, occasioned a Number of People to enquire the Reason -and join in the Speculation, when he asserted he saw a very bright Star; -and while he was busy in pointing out the Constellation to the Spectators -several of them lost their handkerchiefs, but the Star gazer got off." - -Jackson's news columns were every bit as full in comparison as the London -papers to-day. With politics, too, he dealt very fully. In a short and -pithy editorial, however, he assured his readers that his own political -views did not count--he was merely running the paper. This, odd as it may -seem, was sound diplomatic policy, because in those days, with -ever-changing party feeling, it was a mere matter of five minutes to issue -an injunction, stop the press, and confiscate the whole plant. Devoted as -he was to political interest Jackson printed many of the promised "curious -Pieces of Prose and Verse." - - "RECEIPT TO MAKE A VOTE. - - "_By the cook of Sir J. D----d._ - - "Take a Cottager of Thirty shillings a Year, tax Him at Forty; Swear - at Him; Bully Him; take your business from Him; Give Him your business - again; make Him drunk; Shake Him by the Hand; Kiss his Wife, and he is - an Honest Fellow. - - "_N.B._--The above Cook will make Affidavit before any Justice of the - Peace, that this Receipt has been try'd on the Body of Billy S---- and - several others in the Neighbourhood of K--rtle--n, and never failed of - Success." - -The other political contribution took the form of an election song, the -sort of thing that the Undergraduates of those times would seize upon and -parade the streets of the university, chanting right lustily in gangs. - - "ADVICE TO FREEHOLDERS. - - "Ye honest Freeholders, bestir all your stumps; - For all now depends upon who turns up Trumps. - Be sure that you chuse - Neither Placemen nor Jews. - Nor such as are likely their trust to abuse. - To the devil you're sold if the Conj'rer prevails; - If Israel's Black Seed, beware of your Tails. - - _Chorus._ - - "Alas! that poor Britons should lose for their Sins - Their Liberties, Properties and their Fore-Skins." - -In addition to such contributions in prose and verse, the columns of the -Journal were open to any keen correspondent who cared to air either his -views or his grievances--an opportunity of which the fullest advantage was -taken. In every issue urgent appeals and exhortations to voters and -freeholders appeared over various names. The advertisement columns, such -as they were, contained frequent announcements of the publication of -political pamphlets addressed to the "Gentlemen, Clergy, and Freeholders -of the country of Oxford." These columns contained also the most curious -hotch-potch of unexpected posts and requests, such as: - - "TO BE DRUNK FOR BY CANDLE, - - "AT WILL'S COFFEE-HOUSE, IN OXFORD, ON WEDNESDAY NEXT, - - "A LIVING, - - "Worth near _Thirty Pounds_ per Annum, besides Surplice fees and other - emoluments. None but True Blue Parsons to drink for it. Three - Gentlemen with White Wigs and Red Faces are already entered. - - "_N.B._--Very soon will be ate for at the same place, a tollerable - _Curacy_, by those who never get a Dinner but of a Sunday. Codd and - Oyster Sauce will be the Subject for this trial. Mr B--lst--ne is - excepted against in both Cases as he will spoil Sport." - -Another frequently-appearing notice was an advertisement of a booklet of -advice to new-married persons, or the art of having beautiful children. -This was surrounded by bills of races, cock fights, arrivals of new -dancing masters, who addressed themselves to the nobility and gentry in -and about Oxford, quack medicines and ointments which were a never-failing -remedy for the itch, announced "by the King's authority. _N.B._--One box -is sufficient to cure a grown person, and divided, is a cure for two -children." - -For the rest it was the receptacle for articles of every nature from all -and sundry. Warton left his antiquarian researches to afford himself a -little relaxation by writing for it a version of Gray's _Elegy_ up to -date, or an appreciation of Ben Tyrell's mutton pies. From the various -coffee-houses Jackson received the wonderful effusions of the Bucks of the -first head, sonnets to Sylvia's eyelashes, poems in praise of Oxford ale, -and even an occasional Latin verse. "Old Lochard, the newsman," says J. R. -Green in his delightful Oxford chapters, "who, bell in hand, hawked the -Journal through the streets, owed to his college patrons not only the -antiquated cane and rusty grizzle wig, which they had thrown by after ten -years' service of the tankard at buttery hatch, in return for quick -despatches; but the merry rhymes that every Christmas drew a douceur from -the tradesman, a slice of sirloin and a cup of October from the squire, or -a dram from Mother Baggs."[22] - -In the Journal's own war paean:-- - - "Each vast event our varied page supplies, - The fall of princes or the rise of pies; - Patriots and squires learn here with little cost - Or when a kingdom or a match is lost; - Both sexes here approved receipts peruse, - Hence belles may clean their teeth or beaux their shoes, - From us informed Britannia's farmers tell - How Louisburgh by British thunders fell; - 'Tis we that sound to all the Trump of Fame, - And babes lisp Amherst's and Boscawen's name. - All the four quarters of the globe conspire - Our news to fill, and raise your glory higher." - -Throughout almost the entire eighteenth century the editorial chairs of -the different periodicals seem to have been filled for the most part by St -John's men. Terrae Filius appeared first in 1721 under the guidance of -Nicholas Amhurst of St John's. In 1789 _The Loiterers_, a literary weekly, -was launched before the public by James Austen of St John's. His brother, -H. T. Austen of the same college, materially assisted him by contributing -a number of delightful imaginative articles. This paper was filially -dedicated by the editor to the President and Fellows of his college, and -ran successfully for two years. The present-day members have done their -best to maintain the literary traditions of this college, for that nine -days' wonder, the _Tuesday Review_, was edited and run by two rash men of -St John's. - -Amhurst took it upon himself to fill the post of cat-o'-nine-tails to the -University, and in his "secret history" lashed at everybody and thing that -was not to his liking, or that seemed to him to constitute in any way an -abuse. He discovered for himself, in all their abundance, the manifold -troubles of an editor, but was not to be coerced or cajoled into anything -that he did not consider fit and proper. - -"In a work of this nature," he wrote in the preface to the second edition -of Terrae Filius, "it is very hard to please any, and impossible to please -all. The different tempers and tastes of men cannot relish the same style -or manner of writing any more than the same dish or the same diversion: -fops love romances; pedants love jargon; the splenatic man delights in -satire; and the gay courtier in panegyric; some are pleased with poetry; -others with prose; some are for plain truths, and some for disguise and -dissimulation. I was aware of this when I began, and, in my second paper, -reserved to myself a liberty to be in what humour I pleased, and to vary -my manner as well as my subject, hoping thereby to please most sorts of -readers; but I quickly found myself disappointed in my expectations, -having often received, by the same post, complaints from some of my -correspondents, that I was too grave for the character of Terrae Filius; -and from others, that I affected levity too much for one who styled -himself a reformer. In answer to both of the objections I shall beg my -readers to consider that as, on one hand, it ought not to be expected that -a man should keep his face upon the broad grin for half a year together; -so, on the other, I cannot apprehend that it is at all necessary for a -reformer to be a puritan, always in the dumps, and always holding forth -with a dismal face and a canting tone:-- - - "'... ridiculum acri - Fortis et melius magnas plerumque secat res.' - -"... I can see nothing in it to repent of, but the want of sufficient -abilities to treat a subject of such general importance in the manner -which it deserves. But I hope the reader will excuse some imperfections, -when he considers the nature of my stunted education, that I was allow'd -to continue but three years at Oxford, and was not twenty-four years of -age when I compleated this undertaking." - -In self-explanation Terrae Filius started off his campaign with sundry -paragraphs calculated to make the authorities uneasy as to their own -future safety, and to cause Undergraduates to champion him against them at -all hazards. - -"It has, till of late," he explained, "been a custom, from time -immemorial, for one of our family to mount the rostrum at Oxford at -certain seasons, and divert an innumerable crowd of spectators, who -flock'd thither to hear him from all parts, with a merry oration in the -fescenine manner, interspersed with secret history, raillery, and sarcasm, -as the occasions at the times supply'd him with matter. If a venerable -head of a college was caught snug a bed with his neighbour's wife; or -shaking his elbows on a Sunday morning; or flattering a prime minister for -a bishopric; or coaxing his bedmaker's girl out of her maidenhead; the -hoary old sinner might expect to hear of it from our lay-pulpit the next -Act. Or if a celebrated toast and a young student were seen together at -midnight under a shady myrtle tree, billing like two turtle doves, to him -it belonged, being a poet as well as an orator, to tell the tender story -in a melancholy ditty, adapted to pastoral music." - -Claiming to follow the precedents established by his old-time -predecessors, Terrae Filius set about showing up the scandalous old Heads, -disguised in thinly-veiled names. As a consequence he was many times -prohibited by Vice-Chancellors and preached down, and cordially loathed -and execrated by all the college Heads and Fellows of his time, whom he -attacked either directly or indirectly. - -"Why should a poor Undergraduate," he asked, "be called an idle rascal, -and a good-for-nothing blockhead, for being perhaps but twice at chapel in -one day; or for coming into college at ten or eleven o'clock at night; or -for a thousand other greater trifles than these; whilst the grey-headed -doctors may indulge themselves in what debaucheries and corruptions they -please, with impunity, and without censure? Methinks it could not do any -great hurt to the universities if the old fellows were to be jobed at -least once in four or five years for their irregularities, as the young -ones are everyday, if they offend." - -Abuses of such a nature are long dead, and a Terrae Filius to-day would -rapidly die of starvation by reason of the lack of matter. Then, however, -he not only lived, but waxed fat on the news he ferreted out--rather in -the manner of a leech applied to a festering sore. Advertisements to him -meant nothing. They were unsought, and would have been refused if -offered. He was _pro bono publico_, ever ready with advice, satire, -criticism, explanation, and always humour. His pen was untiring in writing -a subject up or down, according to its merits or demerits. Political, -religious, academic, and social abuses were thrown on to the screen -fearlessly. His paternal advice to freshmen, although written in a vein of -biting irony, was, nevertheless exactly suited to the times, and, if -followed unswervingly, must assuredly have been of vast assistance in -coping with the wily, time-serving sculls and beer-swilling tutors. His -advice as to their morale was penned with his tongue in his cheek; but in -substance it was none the less straight and praiseworthy. His political -views were consistent and very strenuous, and the opposition received a -royal scourging from his stinging and lengthy lashes. His contempt for -Smarts was only exceeded by his scorn for drink-soddened, incapable -Fellows, and the scandalous manner in which they neglected the statutes -and allowed everything to run to seed. His boldness in choice of subjects -was unparalleled, the outspoken manner of setting them forth absolutely -inimitable. The results achieved by his work must have been considerable, -though to a large extent unperceived publicly, because a new leaf turned -frankly and openly would have been an avowal of guilt on the part of the -persons concerned. The proof that he was largely read lies in the fact -that he was preached about in no measured terms in public pulpits, -prohibited by various authorities, roasted by aggrieved parties in -coffee-and ale-houses, and, in fact, was a household word on every one's -tongue. - -A lengthy disquisition upon the way in which the truth was mangled, -disguised, covered up, and turned about by priests, statesmen, and every -"old libertine in authority" was followed by the ensuing declaration:-- - -"I, Terrae Filius, a free-thinker, and a free-speaker, highly incensed -against all knavery and imposture, and not thinking _Truth_ such a -terrible enemy to religion and good order, as it has been represented, do -hereby declare war against all cheats and deluders, however dignified, or -wheresoever residing; the fear of obloquy and ill-usage shall not deter me -from this undertaking, nor shall any considerations rob me of the liberty -of my own thoughts and my own tongue. In the pursuit of this design, I -shall not confine myself to any particular method; but shall be grave and -whimsical, serious or ludicrous, prosaical or poetical, philosophical or -satirical, argue or tell stories, weep over my subject, or laugh over it, -be in humour or out of humour, according to whatever passion is uppermost -in my breast whilst I am writing." - -In token of this promise there stands the truth on every page, however -bedded in satire, philosophy, poetry, or ridicule. He saw to it that his -daily path was studded with nails, and in his passage he hit them each one -on the head. As a result the pages of Terrae Filius are from cover to -cover a source of immense joy. For an example of bold and delightful -satire I cannot find a better instance than the _ne plus ultra_ in skits -on the Poetical Club. Of course he gave the president and learned -professors who composed it fictitious names, but it is palpable that those -caricatured recognised themselves, and, if they had the least grain of -humour in their compositions, they must have enjoyed it thoroughly. As, -however, the question of their possessing a sense of humour is open to -grave doubts--a fact proved by the very formation of the club and the -secrecy of its doings--it is infinitely more likely that the club writhed -under his well-pointed jibes and consigned the author to eternal -perdition. Then, too, the bland and smiling manner in which he turned -aside the violent pulpit denunciations of his hard-hit victims is -exhilarating to a degree. He received, for instance, a letter from an -anonymous friend (hidden behind the title "John Spy") who sent him an -account of the heated charges laid at his door by a certain grave college -Head. Terrae printed the letter and smilingly pointed out the reasons of -the man's wrath in a tone of charming tolerance. - -"You see, reader," he said, "that I had no sooner undertaken this task but -I raised a nest of holy wasps and hornets about my ears; an huge old -drone, grown to an excessive bulk upon the spoils of many years, has -thought fit, you see, to call me terrible names before his learned -audience, at St Mary's Church in Oxford; it is, it seems, an hellish -attempt to bring about a reformation of the universities; and it is daring -and impious in me to style myself a free-thinker and a free-speaker: poor -man! poor man! What! art afraid I should tell tales out of school, how a -certain fat doctor got his bedmaker with child, and play'd several other -unlucky pranks? That would be daring and impious indeed. No, no, never -fret thyself, man; I love a pretty woman myself, and I never desire any -better usage in this world than as I do unto others to be done unto -myself." - -Turning to politics, Terrae Filius summed up the attitude of the -authorities in Oxford in one short paragraph--which was made a hundred -times more severe by his assertion upon honour that religion received the -same treatment at their hands. - -"In politics my advice is the same as in religion--not to let your upstart -reason domineer over you, and say you must obey this king or that king; or -you must be of this party, or that party; instead of that, follow your -leaders; observe the cue, which they give you; speak as they speak; act as -they act; drink as they drink, and swear as they swear; comply with -everything which they comply with; and discover no scruples which they do -not discover." - -Upon a Whig and a Tory enquiring what was their exact position, he told -them that one day the Whig might be safe and have things all his own way, -but that the next the certainty of the Tory's being uppermost was -absolute. Finally he urged upon them that the only safe method of -proceeding was to employ what are called nowadays the Winston tactics--one -side one day, the other the next, according to one's greater individual -advantage. - -He dealt exhaustively with the peculiarly slack method of conducting, or -rather the practical non-existence of, university examinations. On reading -his account alone, it would very naturally be supposed that he was drawing -the long bow, caricaturing the existing conditions out of all shape and -possibility of recognition, and we laugh unreservedly. But further study -of other writers' criticisms of the times very quickly turns our smile -into a gasp of amazement. Terrae Filius was not caricaturing. All his -absurd and quite impossible relations of bribery and corruption were true. -It is precisely the same with all his papers. He has wisely written them -in the style of caricatures, and at times, no doubt, has indulged his -humour overmuch; but, on going into his inimitable showings up of drinking -and immoral Dons, political conflicts, university statutes, toasts, -smarts, or any one of the innumerable subjects dissected by him, and then -comparing his work with other eighteenth-century documents, one finds that -Terrae Filius carried out his boast and kept to the truth. - -Is there any man to-day who, at the age of twenty-four, has achieved such -notoriety, done such brilliant work, and proved himself to be such a -master of his craft? - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -'VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The Student--Cambridge included--Its design--The female student--Poem - by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury's letter--The manly woman. - - -On the first day of January, 1750, there appeared the first number of _The -Student_. The sub-title read: _The Oxford Monthly Miscellany_. For two -years it ran successfully, and, at the beginning of the second, it was -found that Cambridge took such an interest in its doings that the -sub-title was enlarged. It then read: _The Oxford and Cambridge Monthly -Miscellany_. In make-up it differed entirely from Terrae Filius, and -contended to be a far more serious and high-minded journal, aiming not so -much to amuse as to teach its readers. Thus it contained Latin prose and -verse, religious discussions, essays, medical dissertations, and a -carefully selected variety of lighter matter in English prose and verse. -The tone of the work may be gathered from the sedate foreword to the -public. - -"In the course of this work particular care will be taken that nothing be -inserted indecent or immoral, and as we are determined to give umbrage to -no Person or Party, all political disputes and whatever is offensive to -Good Manners will of consequence be avoided. Our design being only to -promote learning in general, we shall not confine ourselves to any -particular subject, but occasionally comprehend all the branches of polite -literature. Each number will consist of such originals in Prose and Verse -as we hope will prove agreeable to our readers. And tho' we might with -impunity comply with the common practice of preying indiscriminately on -the labours of others, yet we shall not to our knowledge publish any thing -that has been printed before, or without the consent of the respective -authors: for the one we consider as a fraud upon the publick, and the -other an invasion of private property. These considerations we presume -will remove any prejudice which the Learned may conceive against our -undertaking, and induce them not only to encourage, but assist us in the -prosecution of it. And as we must necessarily depend on the publick for -the Success of our work, we hope it will meet with their indulgence. No -endeavours on our part shall be wanting to render it worthy their -approbation; and we no longer desire their favour, than while we continue -to deserve it." - -In the first number there were some five or six pages of Latin verse, a -translation of the chorus at the end of the second act of _Hecuba of -Euripides_, an elegy in imitation of Tibullus, an article on "Intellectual -Pleasure"--the author of which was requested, in an editorial note, to -favour the paper with his further reflections--the speech of John Fell, -D.D., Bishop of Oxford, at his Triennial Visitation in the year 1685, an -article entitled "Leaning of no Party," and one or two lighter imaginative -contributions, such as "The Speech of an Old Oak to an Extravagant Young -Heir as He was going to be Cut Down," and an "Address to an Elbow Chair -Lately New Cloath'd." As there were no advertisements to assist the -editors with the printing bills, it speaks well for the literary taste of -the period that the paper lived two full years--the period to which the -editors limited themselves at the outset. Such a periodical at Oxford in -the year of grace 1911 would prove to be a hopeless anachronism. It would -arrive at a circulation of three copies per month--a free copy to the -British Museum, another to the Bodleian, and the third to the editor's -mother. The Undergraduates might finger it casually on the bookshop -counter, and the Dons read the first number on account of its novelty, but -it would die a speedy death unless by the second issue the editor -announced its coalition with the comic paper whose editor runs his -motor-car on the earnings of butcher and express messenger boys. - -One of the lighter features of _The Student_ was a series of letters from -Cambridge written by the female student. Her epistles were full of humour, -and she poked fun at the Undergraduates quietly, and in a manner not -wholly unlike Terrae Filius. Perhaps it is unfair to compare her efforts -to those of Amhurst, because as he jested and quipped in every conceivable -style and way, any one coming after him might be accused, quite unjustly, -of plagiarism. That the female student was not guilty of any false modesty -is easily to be seen from the account of herself in her preliminary -letter; while the care with which the editors of _The Student_ guarded the -decencies and the moralities ensured that she did not in any way cause a -breach in them by her broad-minded and outspoken contributions. She began -by claiming the student as a brother, a claim based upon her birth, -education, and the whole conduct of her life. She asserted that she, too, -was a student, having sounded the depths of philosophy and made greater -progress "in academical erudition" than most of the Dons whose profound -knowledge consisted in a "little cap with a short tuft and a large pompous -grizzle wig." She was born and brought up in Cambridge in the care of an -aunt. Her studies were directed by a grave Fellow of a college. Her aunt -was so fond of her that she was suffered to "give a loose to her passion -for literature," and the girl absorbed information from curling papers and -the lids of wig-boxes. When she was seventeen her tutor died of a surfeit -occasioned by feeding too freely at a gaudy, and the secret at last came -out that there had been a union between the Don and the aunt for nearly -twenty years. The aunt became, therefore, a mother, and she produced -documents to show that the Don's possessions were hers. The result of the -selling of the deceased's effects did not raise the good woman to a -condition of luxury. - -"However," said the girl, "she resolved to continue at Cambridge on my -account, and we lived together in a manner much genteeler than our fortune -would afford. My person (which, by-the-bye, I took as much pains to -cultivate as my mind) now began to be cried up as much as my parts. I was -a charming, clever, sweet, smart, witty, pretty creature, in short, I was -as much feared for my wit as ador'd for my beauty. From hence I had vanity -to fancy I could have anybody I pleased, and had therefore resolved within -myself to be run away with by a nobleman, or a baronet at least." - -But this witty, pretty creature unfortunately over-estimated her -possibilities. The next ten years passed in a round of gaiety which took -the form of courtship by no one under the rank of gentleman commoner. With -the baronet in view, however, such mere mortals fell in their hundreds. -Some she rejected "because a better might offer, some because they had too -much sense; others because they had too little; this was too old, that too -young," and, in consequence, she was gradually deserted, as her physical -charms waned, until at last her name was never mentioned "without the -odious reproach of 'she has been' added to it." - -At the moment of writing this first letter she was compelled to work for -her bread and the support of her mother. This she did with her pen, -turning out poems and novels; being, as she informed _The Student_, at -present engaged in "composing sermons for a bookseller, which he designs -to sell for the MS. Sermons of an eminent divine lately deceased, -warranted originals." - -_The Student_, liking the tone of her first letter, encouraged her to -write further, and from time to time she sent in various articles, such as -a scathing criticism of Academical Gallantry, in which she roundly chaffed -all gownsmen for their bragging propensities and gallant follies, and gave -an account of the various Dons and their habits who had laid vain siege to -her heart, and a discussion on the sin of living single, and the fustiness -of old maids--a plight in which she admitted herself to be, though not by -"desire or inclination." - -In spite of the editorial desire to give umbrage to no person or party, -certain of the Bucks seem to have considered her an unamusing, brazen -creature, whose inclusion in _The Student_ was a sad mistake, for she -received the following crushing letter from one of their number. - - "---- Coll., Oxford, _June 11, 1751_. - - "MADAM,--As the character I bear in this University is that of a - profess'd critic-general on pamphlets, and as my opinion is look'd - upon as infallible and oracular in a certain coffee-house frequented - by Wits, where a subscription is carried on for raking together the - dulness of the age, I think I may take the liberty (without being - styled Prig, Fop, Witling, or Poetaster) of transmitting you my full - and candid sentiments on your monthly productions. And first, Madam - Student, with as much laconic politeness as possible, I beg leave to - inform you that you pretend to that choice ingredient of good writing - Humour, without having one syllable of it. In a word, Madam, if you - have any Humour at all, it is that low species of it, never so much as - heard of in Greece and Rome, originally invented by Tom Brown of - blackguard memory, and now first revived by the Female Student. - - "This species (if it may call itself a species), I, myself, in right - of the sublime critical character with which the sensible Men of our - house have invested me, have christen'd Jack-Pudding Humour. To define - it were utterly impracticable. However, thus much may be said of it, - that it is made up of ill-breeding and ill-nature, and discovers a - remarkable want of classical reading, and a relish for authors of true - taste. It treats of subjects of a vague nature, and is (beside its - Jack-pudding affinity) of a mere Jack-lanthorn nature, neither here - nor there; in short, it is a topsy-turvy, rhapsodic, miscellaneous - method of writing. But, to come to the point. What I would recommend - to you is to leave off scribbling, and sit down seriously to sewing. - - "Why, Madam, you are nothing more than a bankrupt in beauty, a mere - discarded toast! I assure you, Mrs Student, you have no more chance of - getting reputation by your pen than you had of getting a husband by - your person.--Yours, - - "FRANK FIZZ-PUFF." - -Whether this letter really caused the good lady to take up sewing in -earnest it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that she was no more -seen in _The Student_--not even to the extent of an indignant feminine -outburst against Mr Fizz-Puff. - -Among the "never before" printed verses which the editor secured for his -columns were some written by Sir Walter Raleigh at Winchester in 1603, as -he lay under sentence of death. They were printed from a manuscript with -due care to preserve the spelling exactly as it was. The editor, however, -was in ignorance of the fact that they had already been published in 1608 -in the second edition of Davison's _Poetical Rhapsody_. - - "Goe, soul, the bodyes gueste, - Upon a thankless arrante, - Fear not to touche the beste, - The truth shall be thy warrante. - Goe, since I needs must dye, - And give them all the lye. - - "Goe, tell the court it glowse, - And shines like painted woode; - Goe, tell the church it shows - What's good, but does no good. - If court and church replye - Give court and church the lye." - -The moribund knight pursued his muse to the thirteenth verse, giving -everybody and everything the lie. The editor of _The Student_, undoubtedly -with the idea of pandering to all tastes, was careful to place these -verses in between a translation of a Latin epigram-- - - "I stole from sweet Gumming two kisses in play, - But she from myself stole myself quite away; - I grieve not I play'd, tho' so cruel the sport; - I'm more pleas'd than griev'd at the hurt." - -and an epistle in verse to Lord Cobham, written by Congrave, while in the -very near neighbourhood, was-- - - "THE HERMAPHRODITE. - - "_From the Latin_ - - "My mother, when she was with child of me, - Consulted heav'n what gender I should be. - Female, cried Mars; Apollo said, a Male; - Neither, quoth Juno; both your judgments fail. - My birth did prove the Goddess in the right; - Nor boy, nor girl, but an Hermaphrodite. - Again she ask'd them what my fate would be. - One said a sword, another said a tree; - Water a third, and they were right all three. - For from a tree I fell upon my sword, - Feet caught in boughs, head dangling in a ford. - Man, Woman, Neither, I at last was found, - Just as the Gods foretold, hang'd, stabb'd, and drown'd." - -A few numbers before that in which the coffee-house wit told the female -student just precisely what he thought of her, the editor received a -letter from another of these gentry at one of the coffee-houses. On behalf -of all his brother Smarts, Mr Harry Didapper took it upon himself to offer -a little friendly advice to the paper. He informed the editor that _The -Student_ was read with keen interest by them all, but that at times it -indulged in boring and pompous articles which, however they pleased the -editor himself, or the cultivated taste of his wig-maker, hosier and wine -merchant, left them angry and disappointed. The Smarts wished to have no -more abstract speculations and religious introspections. They wanted more -brightness and humanity about the paper. Consequently in the next issue -the editor published the following lamentation:-- - - "A RECEIPT FOR THE GOUT. - - "Oh Gout! the plague of rich and great! - Thou cramping padlock of the feet! - Oh Gout! thou puzzling knotty point! - You nick man's frame in every joint; - You, like inquisitors of Spain, - Rack, burn, and torture limbs to pain. - First, miner-like, you work below, - And sap man's fortress by the toe.... - And what is worse, the wounded part - Finds small relief from doctor's art. - Great Wilmot's skill confounded stands - When patient roars ... my toe! my hands!... - 'Tis said that bees, when raging found, - Are charm'd to peace by tinkling sound; - Shrill lullabies in nurse's strain - Asswage the froward bantling's pain, - When cutting teeth, or ill-plac'd pin, - Molest the tender baby's skin, - So when Gout-humours throb and ache, - The present soft prescription take. - In elbow-chair majectick sit - In full high twinge, yet scorn to fret; - Divert the pain with generous wine; - Read news from Flanders and the Rhine; - Hold up the toe like Pope of Rome; - Forbear to scold, and swear, and fume; - Let double flannel guard the part, - To mitigate the dreadful smart; - Wrap round the joint this harmless verse; - And let dame Patience be your nurse." - -Would any doctor in these times prescribe wine as a remedy against gout? -Whether the advice was sound or not, the Smarts appeared to have been -appeased, for there came no further complaints as to the stodginess of the -fare served up to them. - -In the same number of _The Student_ there appeared a letter from Bishop -Atterbury to his son Obadiah, who was up at the House. How the editor -procured it is not recorded, nor is it easy to see why he included it in -his columns. It cannot have been vastly entertaining to a list of -subscribers who devoted most of their time to ale and coffee-houses, or in -dallying with Amaryllis in the shade of Merton Wall. It is greatly -interesting to-day, however, as an example of what an eighteenth-century -parent indicted to his son. The contrast between this letter and the -replies one receives in 1911 in answer to one's brief epistles written, -mostly, solely in order to "touch the dad down for a bit" is not -unstriking. - - "DEAR OBBY,--I thank you for your letter, because there are manifest - signs in it of your endeavouring to excel yourself, and in consequence - to please me. You have succeeded in both respects, and will always - succeed, if you think it worth your while to consider what you write - and to whom, and let nothing, tho' of a trifling nature, pass through - your pen negligently. Get but the way of writing correctly and justly, - time and use will teach you to write readily afterwards. Not but that - too much care may give a stiffness to your style, which ought in all - letters by all means to be avoided. The turn of them should always be - natural and easy, for they are an image of private and familiar - conversation. I mention this with respect to the four or five first - lines of yours, which have an air of poetry, and do therefore - naturally resolve themselves into blank verses. I send you your letter - again, that you may make the same observation. But you took the hint - of that thought from a poem, and it is no wonder therefore, that you - heightened the phrase a little when you were expressing it. The rest - is as it should be; and particularly there is an air of duty and - sincerity, that if it comes from your heart, is the most acceptable - present you can make me. With these qualities an incorrect letter - would please me, and without them the finest thoughts and language - would make no lasting impression upon me. The great Being says, you - know--my son, give me thy heart--implying that without it all other - gifts signify nothing. Let me conjure you therefore never to say - anything, either in a letter or common conversation, that you do not - think, but always to let your mind and your words go together on the - most slight and trivial occasions. Shelter not the least degree of - insincerity under the notion of a compliment, which, as far as it - deserves to be practis'd by a man of probity, is only the most civil - and obliging way of saying what you really mean; and whoever employs - it otherwise, throws away truth for breeding; I need not tell you how - little his character gets by such an exchange. I say not this as if I - suspected that in any part of your letter you intended only to write - what was proper, without any regard to what was true; for I am - resolved to believe that you were in earnest from the beginning to the - end of it, as much as I am when I tell you that I am,--Your loving - father, etc." - -The editor of _The Student_ pronounced himself the champion of many and -various causes. For instance, he organised in his columns a fund for the -maintenance of the widows and children of deceased clergy in straightened -circumstances, which did an immense amount of good. His appeal for money -was nobly responded to in Oxford, and widely taken up by the public. -Another matter against which he took up the cudgels was the fondness shown -so largely by the fair sex for indulging in masculine sports in masculine -attire--more particularly hunting. From his account it is clear that a -very great percentage of ladies was horsey to the exclusion of all else, -even, in his eyes, of femininity. - -"I cannot," he wrote in an article occasioned by an amusing letter from a -short-sighted contributor who at dinner addressed his neighbour as Sir, -when all the time it was a lady, who, returning late from a day with the -hounds had had no time to change, "I cannot, indeed, but highly disapprove -not only the habit, but also the cause of it. It makes them appear rough -and manlike: it robs them of all the endearing softness, all the alluring -tenderness, that so captivates and charms the heart. As pity and a certain -degree of timorousness are essentially woven into their constitution, do -they not pervert the very end of their creation, who daringly tempt the -perils of the chace, or exult in the prosecution and death of a poor -harmless animal? If the laws of _decency_ are not broke thro' by such an -unbecoming practice, I am sure, those of _delicacy_ are, which above all -things 'tis the business of the fair to keep up." - -As an example of the unnatural and indelicate results of a woman being -sporting the editor related with pathos the story of one Peggy Atall, who -was brought up, her mother being dead, by her father, a country squire, to -all the "labourious sports of the field." Hunting was, however, her -obsession, and she was noted as the boldest rider in the country. "As she -is an heiress, many a young fox hunter, whose love has been greater than -his prudence, has hazarded his neck and cheaply come off with a dislocated -limb or so, in following her thro' the various perils and hairbreadth -'scapes of the chace." The editor, who had the good fortune to know this -fair Diana, was, fortunately for himself, not in love with her, judging by -the avowedly casual manner in which he visited at her house. But he was -none the less deeply pained that "her whole conversation turns on that -topic. I have often heard her charm a large circle of gaping -fellow-sportsmen with a recapitulation of the feats of the day. She would -descant a whole hour on the virtues of Dreadnought, her own horse, who had -brought her in at the death of a stag, with Tom the huntsman, when every -gentleman on the field was thrown out; concluding with the most exulting -expressions of barbarous joy at seeing the poor beast torn to pieces." He -brought his reflections to an end by strongly urging all his fair-hunting -readers to "lay aside the spirit of the chace together with the cap, the -whip, and _all the masculine attire_." It is more than probable that as -the editor of a modern daily or weekly paper his remarks _à propos_ of -suffragette raids, and all the little delicate ventures in which women -vote-seekers indulge their fancy, would make very bright and spirited -reading. He was evidently born before his time. Be that as it may, he -undoubtedly conducted his paper on popular lines, for he was enabled to -keep it alive during the two years which he had mapped out for himself in -the beginning. Its fame was not local to Oxford and Cambridge. He received -letters of congratulation from Edinburgh, Dublin, and other university -towns--the senders of course enclosing contributions with their letters of -praise! - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -'VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to the - _Cozeners_ written by Mr Garrick--Visions, fables and moral - tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789. - - -_The Student_ was followed after a lapse of some eighteen years by the -_Oxford Magazine_, a monthly miscellany. Devoted to no one particular -object, the editors declared its columns open to every kind of literary -matter--scientific, historical, antiquarian. Light and merely amusing -subjects were also given a place in its pages. They boasted in addition a -feature which no other periodical had ever included--illustrations. _The -Student_, it is true, had an allegorical engraving as a frontispiece to -each volume, but the _Oxford Magazine_ went one better and had -copper-plates of many of the noteworthy persons and happenings of the day, -which were "made from the most striking subjects." "Satirical and -political cards will be given in each number, executed by the most -ingenious artists; which, it is hoped, will vie, in humour and satire, -with the late celebrated Mr Hogarth's performances." Other features which -the editors dealt with far more enterprisingly than any other papers of -the century were the Drama and the Law Courts. In each number there -appeared a criticism of a Drury Lane production with the cast in full, a -description of the play, the plot given in _précis_ form, and a general -summing up of the merits or demerits of the writing and acting. Each of -these ran to several columns, and in some numbers there were criticisms of -two or three productions. Besides dealing with the Law Courts in the -Domestic Intelligence columns, which acted as a sort of monthly review of -events, there were full reports of some of the important trials of the -time. The editors' foreword was not without interest, giving, as it did, -an exact idea of their plan of campaign. On the title page it was stated -that the magazine was "calculated for general instruction and amusement." -To this end they put forward following the programme:-- - -"Among other subjects of general entertainment, the authors propose to -give, in the course of this magazine, complete systems of every branch of -useful learning, enriched with all the improvements of modern writers. -They do not, however, propose to confine their labours entirely to the -elucidation of the sciences; they propose to give a large account of the -political and other transactions in different parts of the world, -especially in our own country; every remarkable event, every uncommon -debate, and every interesting turn of affairs will be recorded. A copious -and authentic history of foreign and domestick occurrences will also be -given, digested in a chronological series, containing all the material -news of the month. To render this performance agreeable to every class of -readers, care will be taken to furnish it with pieces calculated for -general entertainment. The elegant amusements of literature, the flights -of poetical fancy, and the brilliant sallies of inoffensive wit, shall -find a place in our _Magazine_. In a word, researches into antiquity; -elucidations of ancient writers; criticisms on every branch of literature; -essays in prose and verse; visions, fables, moral tales, etc., will make a -part of this performance. The correspondence of the ingenious is therefore -requested...." - -On the lighter side of the periodical, one of the features was a monthly -collection from contemporary London papers of curious and remarkable -advertisements. They evidently appealed strongly to the supporters of the -paper, as, after the first volume, the editors gave them in greater -number. Some of them, indeed, were not without humour--of the broader kind -then in vogue--as will be seen from the few examples appended:-- - - "A maiden lady, who lately died in Ireland, left two guineas each to - four maidens, aged twenty-five, to be her pall-bearers, each of whom - was to swear she was a maid, before receiving the money; but such is - the detestation in which perjury is held in Ireland, that the old lady - was buried without a pall-bearer.--_Public Advertiser_, July 8." - - "To the Single Women.--A Single Man wants to Lodge, or Lodge and - Board, with a Single Woman whether in business or not; keeps regular - hours, will not give much trouble, but spends many evenings at home; - therefore wishes to meet with a very conversable person and is willing - to pay a _handsome_ price.--_Gazetteer_, Nov. 22." - - "On Thursday last a publican in Shoreditch sold his wife to a butcher - for a ticket in the present lottery, on condition that if the ticket - be drawn a blank he is to have his wife again as soon as the drawing - of the lottery is over.--_Public Advertiser_, Sep. 19." - - "If any real gentleman will oblige a _lady_ of character with _one - hundred pounds_, for six months, on her own bond, the gentleman may - have an advantage, which cannot be mentioned in a public newspaper; it - is desired that none may apply who cannot command the sum - immediately.--Please to direct a line to J. X. at Mr Tomb's No. 72 - Fetter Lane." - - "If Mr ----, lately a Latin master at an academy in town, who has got - a dozen and a half of shirts belonging to Mr Wh--e, does not call on - his guardian in Coleman Street immediately, and give satisfaction for - the said shirts, his name will be advertised with many other - circumstances not to his advantage.--_Daily Advertiser_, Dec. 16." - - "Mrs K---- (who was in one of the front boxes at the representation of - the 'Trip to Scotland') was observed to blush four times behind her - fan, occasioned, it is imagined, at the repetition of the words single - and _double beds_; as it is said to be well known that in her - elopement to Scotland only a _single bed_ was used going and - returning." - -The above are a few specimens of the flowers of wit, printed extensively -at the time in many of the papers, culled from many volumes of the _Oxford -Magazine_. At the end of Volume IX., however, there was found to be no -further desire for them, and they were quietly dropped into the limbo of -forgotten things. The columns thus relieved were filled with anecdotes and -articles of a much less lively but more literary nature. - -The opening article in the first volume was a very serious essay, fully -equipped with examples and quotations from the ancients, on the Power of -the Passions. This was followed by a consideration as to whether genius is -a natural gift or an effect of education. From the great similarity of -style in the two articles, it is extremely probable that they were written -by the same pen. The next ten columns were occupied by a _verbatim_ report -of various speeches made in the Court of King's Bench, and in certain -London clubs. The Surgeon Dentist to His Majesty then contributed a -flowing article on the disorders and deformities of the teeth and gums, in -which mothers might find copious hints as to the teething of their -infants. For the patrons of the Drama, unable to get up to London, there -was "Some Account of the Statesman Foil'd, a Musical Comedy in Two Acts, -composed by Mr Rush; and performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket." -Even in those days it would seem that dramatic critics were of the settled -opinion that their task was never to praise, but only to carp and pick -holes, for, after giving a description of the play which read very -amusingly and well, the critic concluded by saying that although "several -of the songs are very prettily set, they are undoubtedly inferior to Mr -Rush's former compositions; and the dialogue not remarkable for sentiment -or wit, is often extremely tiresome." - -In whatever spirit the criticisms were written, however, it cannot be said -that the university, only allowed to perform plays after a deal of -discussion and recrimination on the part of the powers that were, did not -take a great interest in the Drama. As the _Oxford Magazine_ proceeded, -more and more space was devoted to the London productions, and whole -scenes which were deemed of literary and dramatic merit were quoted from -them. Many of the songs, too, were published at length. The July number in -1774 contains, for example, "an account of the new comedy called the -_Cozeners_ as it was performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket." The -cast is quoted in full and, besides telling the story of the play in some -three columns, the prologue was printed. - -The critic of the _Magazine_ wrote about it as follows:-- - -"The piece was introduced with an excellent prologue, replete with the -true Attic salt (said to be written by Mr Garrick), and spoken by Mr -Foote, in which he compared himself to a watchman, whose business it is to -watch over the rising vices and follies of the age, and when they come to -a certain height, _knock them down_, by exposing them on the stage. As -nothing ever deserved applause more, so nothing was ever more warmly -received by the audience." Of all the criticisms of the various -productions in whose casts are to be found the names of Mrs Siddons, Mrs -Love, Mr Foote, Mrs Yates, and many other famous actors and actresses of -the time, that of the _Cozeners_ is the most warm and praisegiving of any -printed in the _Magazine_. - -Among the visions, fables, and moral tales promised by the editors, there -was a vivid and detailed description of a nun's taking the veil. The -writer spent himself in explanation of every word and deed that occurred -during the ceremony, but whether the article, which ran through several -issues and was written by a person of the male sex, was considered a -vision, a fable, or a moral tale, it is impossible to say. Whichever it -was, however, it was well observed and highly coloured. Then there -followed a curious little contribution which was labelled a tale, but -which ought surely to have been included in the category of visions or -fables. It was entitled the "Kiss," and came from the German. "When I was -a youth, my father sent me to Paphos to study love, which I there learnt -of a Dryad.... Fair one, you may now learn of me what a Kiss is. The -Nymphs and Dryads never met to dance, without making me one of the party; -for I was dedicated to the God of Love, and everything within me expressed -the sentiment. - -"At this tender age I tasted the most pure pleasure. All Paphos, to me, -seemed to dance; for the little loves danced over my head, and the flowers -danced under my feet. Among the Dryads was one who affected always to -chuse me for her partner; she never failed to smile at me sweetly, to -squeeze my hand, and blush afterwards with all the graces of modesty. And -I squeezed also the hand of the Dryad, and blushed when I danced with her. -Even before Aurora had quitted the ocean I was already in the grove -sporting with my amiable Dryad. - -"Sometimes I surprised her in the groves, where she had retired, amidst -the thickest foliage, and where she wished to be discovered; sometimes she -watched me when I hid myself, and, when she discovered me, fled, and I -pursued in hopes of overtaking her. But, all of a sudden, she would -inclose herself in the bark of an oak, and elude my pursuit. And when I -had sought her long in vain, she used to burst into loud fits of laughter; -then I entreated her to come out of her place of concealment, and -immediately I saw her issue, smiling, from the body of the tree. - -"One day that I was playing with my Dryad in the wood, she tenderly patted -my cheeks and said, 'Press your lips against mine.' I pressed my lips -against hers; but, heavens! what pleasure did I then experience! No, the -honey that flows from Mount Hymettus is not so sweet, nor the fruit of the -vines of Surentum; even nectar, the nectar which Ganymede presents to the -immortal gods, is a thousand times less delicious. - -"Then she again glued her lips to mine. In the intoxication of my -transport, I cried: 'Oh incomparable beauty! tell me the name of this -exquisite pleasure, which glides into my very soul from thy lips, whenever -our lips meet each other?' She answered, with a gracious smile--'a Kiss!'" - -This odd little piece of imaginative writing was printed on the same page -with a sketch of the trial of Samuel Gillam, Esq., for murder! - -It is not easy to conceive that the _Oxford Magazine_ was very popular -among Bucks of the first head, for there were, indeed, none of the -references to toasts, accompanied by frequent sonnets, which occupied so -large a place in the journals earlier in the century. The tone of the -paper was more sedate throughout. There was less of the bottle and -drinking bout. The contributions covered a far wider field of interest. - -The magazine is in some sort a combination of, or rather, perhaps, an -advance upon, _Jackson's Journal_ and _The Student_. The editors united -the ideas of both these periodicals. From the one they obtained the notion -of the monthly summary of events collected from all parts; and from the -other, the idea of illustrations and fiction. The result of this -perfectly-justifiable plagiarism was certainly popular. The magazine ran -for about eight years without financial aid in the form of advertisements, -and at the end of each issue the acknowledgment of contributions, both -articles and illustrations, made a considerable list. Obviously, -therefore, the wide diversity of subjects and the not over-serious form in -which they were served up appealed to a public which hitherto had had to -be satisfied with the half-measures of those previous men who had been -bold enough to undertake the editing of 'varsity papers. - -The beginning of the last decade of the century saw the _début_ of _The -Loiterer_, which admittedly took its idea from Terrae Filius. Naturally, -it did not resemble it in style--the time for a Terrae Filius was -over--but in so much as Amhurst went no farther than the university gates -for his matter, _The Loiterer_ may be said to have imitated him. -Consequently, the first volume (there were only two) was practically -confined to subjects of academical life. The second volume, however, was -not reserved wholly to university matters--articles of outside interest -being admitted from time to time. The whole work was offered to the world -by the editors as "a rough, but not entirely inaccurate Sketch of the -Character, the Manners, and the Amusements of Oxford, at the close of the -eighteenth century." The paper was hawked at threepence a copy every -Saturday morning--for which price the editors promised, on their word of -honour as gentlemen and authors, to cram it as full of learning, sense, -and wit as they could possibly afford for the money. As a foretaste of the -threepenny wit to come, they stated in their foreword that they hoped to -receive some credit for one thing at least, "that particular orders have -been given to Mr Rann (the publisher) that _The Loiterer_ should regularly -make his appearance at Nine o'clock, in order to be served up with the -bread and butter, crusts and muffins, and enter the room in good company. -We have been the more particular in this circumstance," they continued, -"as it is the only hour, out of the twenty-four, in which there is a -probable chance of finding some of our Brother Loiterers at home, and the -only one in which any of them read: so genteel and so useful indeed is -this love of morning study, that were it not for the necessity of eating -breakfast, and of dressing hair, it is to be doubted whether some of our -numerous fraternity would not, in a short time, forget their letters." - -This serving up with breakfast was a very wise move on the editors' part, -for they knew from experience that it was the only hour when they stood -the least chance of being read--the rest of the day being passed by most -men in the strenuous occupation of killing time. The writer of article -number four in _The Loiterer_ was on his way to a lecture one morning when -he saw a man whom he knew leaning against the college gate with a vacant -expression on his serene countenance. Thinking that the poor fellow did -not know what to do with himself, the writer offered to take him to the -lecture which, he said, was to be remarkably entertaining. The lounger was -most polite in his thanks, and said he should have liked it above all -things, but that at the moment he was extremely busy and really had not -time. The writer, a little surprised, left him and attended the lecture, -returning two hours later to find the man leaning against the same -gate-post in nearly the same attitude. - -In the face of such stagnation who shall deny the wisdom of sending the -paper in with the hot roll, thereby catching the time-killers before they -have begun their day's task? The writer concluded his narrative of ancient -lounging and reflections on the passing of the law whereby Undergraduates -were forbidden under severe penalties to loiter away their time in sitting -on Pennyless Bench, by giving the diary of a week in the life of an -Undergraduate in 1789. It is an extremely excellent and amusing piece of -work, which shows that there were past-masters in the gentle art of -slacking who seriously challenge some of the present-day exponents. - - "DIARY OF A MODERN OXFORD MAN (1789). - - "_Sunday._--Waked at eight o'clock by the scout, to tell me the bell - was going for prayers--wonder those scoundrels are allowed to make - such a noise--tried to get to sleep again, but could not--sat up and - read Hoyle in bed--ten, got up and breakfasted--Charles called to ask - me to ride--agreed to stay until the President was gone to - Church--half after eleven, rode out, going down the High Street saw - Will Sagely going to St Mary's--can't think what people go to church - for. Twelve to two, rode round Bullington Green, met Careless and a - new Freshman of Trinity--engaged them to dine with me--two to three, - lounged at the stable, made the Freshman ride over the Bail, talked to - him about horses: see he knows nothing about the matter--went home and - dressed--three to eight, dinner and wine--remarkable pleasant - evening--sold Rackett's stone horse for him to Careless's friend for - fifty guineas--certainly break his neck--eight to ten, coffee-house, - and lounged in the High Street--Stranger went home to study; am afraid - he's a bad one--engaged to hunt to-morrow and dine with - Rackett--twelve, supped and went to bed early, in order to get up - to-morrow. - - "_Monday._--Racket _rowed_ me up at seven o'clock--sleepy and queer, - but forced to get up and make breakfast for him--eight to five in the - afternoon, hunting--famous run, and killed near Bicester--number of - tumbles--Freshman out on Rackett's stone horse--got the devil of a - fall into a ditch--horse upon him--but don't know whether he was - killed or not. Five, dressed and went to dine with Rackett--Dean had - cross'd his name, and no dinner to be got--went to the Angel and - dined--famous evening till eleven, when the Proctors came and told us - to go home to our colleges--went directly the contrary way--eleven to - one, went down into St Thomas's and fought a raff--one, dragged home - by somebody, the Lord knows whom, and put to bed. - - "_Tuesday._--Very bruised and sore, did not get up till twelve--found - an imposition on my table--mem. to give it to the hairdresser--drank - six dishes of tea--did not know what to do with myself, so wrote to my - father for money. Half after one, put on my boots to ride for an - hour--met Careless at the stable--rode together--asked me to dine with - him and meet Jack Sedley, who is just returned from France--two to - three, returned home and dressed--four to seven, dinner and wine--Jack - very pleasant--told some good stories--says the French women have - thick legs--no hunting to be got, and very little wine--won't go there - in a hurry--seven, went to the stable, and then looked in at the - coffee-house--very few drunken men, and nothing going forwards--agreed - to play Sedley at billiards--Walker's table engaged, and forced to - go to the Blue Posts--lost two guineas--thought I could have beat him, - but the dog has been practising in France--ten, supper at - Careless's--bought Sedley's mare for thirty guineas--think he knows - nothing of a horse, and believe I have done him. Drank a little punch - and went to bed at twelve. - -[Illustration: OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING.] - - "_Wednesday._--Hunted with the Duke of B.--very long run, rode the new - mare, found her sinking, so pulled up in time and swore I had a shoe - lost--to sell her directly--buy no more horses of Sedley--knows more - than I thought he did.--Four, returned home, and as I was dressing to - dine with Sedley, received a note from some country neighbours of my - father's to desire me to dine at the Cross--obliged to send an excuse - to Sedley--wanted to put on my cap and gown--cap broke and gown not to - be found, forced to borrow--half after four to ten, at the Cross with - my _Lions_--very _loving_ evening indeed--ten, found it too bad, so - got up and told them it was against the rules of the university to be - out later. - - "_Thursday._--Breakfasted at the Cross, and walked all the morning - about Oxford with my Lions--terrible flat work--Lions very - troublesome--asked an hundred and fifty silly questions about every - thing they saw. Wanted me to explain the Latin inscriptions on the - monuments in Christ Church Chapel!--Wanted to know how we spent our - time!--forced to give answers as well as I could. Four, forced to give - them a dinner and, what was worse, to sit with them till six, when I - told them I was engaged for the rest of the evening, and sent them - about their business--seven, dropped in at Careless's rooms, found him - with a large party, all pretty much _cut_--thought it was a good time - to sell him Sedley's mare, but he was not quite drunk enough--made a - bet with him that I trotted my poney from Benson to Oxford within the - hour--sure of winning, for I did it the other day in fifty minutes. - - "_Friday._--Got up early and rode the poney a foot pace over to Benson - to breakfast--Old Shrub breaks fast--told him of the bet and showed - him the poney--shook his head and looked cunning when he heard of - it--good sign--after breakfast rode the race, and won easy, but could - not get any money; forced to take Careless's draught; daresay its not - worth two pence; great fool to bet with him. Twelve till three, - lounged at the stable, and cut my horse's tail--eat soup at - Sadler's--walked down the High Street--met Rackett, who wanted me to - dine with him, but could not because I was engaged to Sagely--three, - dinner at Sagely's--very bad--dined, in a cold hall, and could get - nothing to eat--wine new--a bad fire--tea-kettle put on at five - o'clock--played at Whist for sixpences, and no bets--thought I should - have gone to sleep--terrible work dining with a studious man--eleven, - went to bed out of spirits. - - "_Saturday._--Ten, breakfast--attempted to read _The Loiterer_; but it - was too stupid; flung it down and took up 'Bartlett's Farriery'--had - not read two pages before a dun came, told him I should have some - money soon--would not be gone--offered him brandy--was sulky, and - would not have any--saw he was going to be _savage_, so kicked him - downstairs to prevent his being impertinent. Thought perhaps I might - have more of them, so went to lounge at the stables--poney got a bad - cough--and the black horse thrown out two splints--went back to my - room in an ill-humour--found a letter from my father, no money and a - great deal of advice--wants to know how my last quarter's allowance - went--how the devil should I know?--he knows I keep no accounts--do - think fathers are the greatest _Bores_ in nature. Very low-spirited - and flat all the morning--some thought of reforming, but luckily - Careless came in to beg me to meet our party at his rooms, so altered - my mind, dined with him, and by nine in the evening was very happy." - -It is amazing to think how many men there are in this year of grace -nineteen hundred and eleven who, if they should take it into their heads -to keep a diary, would have to write down page after page of exactly the -same stuff, would express exactly the same sentiments about their father, -and whose projects of a lasting reform would be for ever scattered by just -such a careless tap upon their oak. And yet it is written: _Tempora -mutantur_! - -_The Loiterer_ was not sold only to the local public at Oxford. It had a -quite large outside circulation, with agents in London, Birmingham, Bath, -and Reading, and ran for a year and three months. At the end of this -period the authors, the principal ones, revealed their identity and -retired from the editorial pinnacle into the comparative oblivion of their -Fellowships, having cause to congratulate themselves upon no small -success. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet._--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford._--_The - Oxford Act._--_The Oxford Sausage._--Present and latter day literature - summed up. - - -There were many other minor literary outputs which made their appearance -from time to time through the century, but it would be tedious to analyse -all of them. The outstanding ones were _The Oxford Packet_, _Academia: or -the Humours of Oxford_, _The Oxford Act_, Tom Warton's fighting poem -entitled _The Triumph of Isis_, and _The Oxford Sausage_. - -_The Oxford Packet_ was a purely topical piece of writing containing -heated articles on the burning questions of the moment in Oxford. It was -published in London, "printed for J. Roberts in 1714," with a list of -contents including "(1) News from Magdalene College (Sacheverell's -Inscription on a piece of plate); (2) Antigamus: or a Satire against -Marriage, written by Mr Thomas Sawyer; (3) A Vindication of the _Oxford_ -Ladies, wherein are displayed the amours of some Gentlemen of _All Souls_ -and _St John's Colleges_." - -_Academia_, perpetrated by a woman, Alicia d'Anvers, ridiculed the manners -and customs of the university in a pointed and quite scurrilous manner. It -lived up to its sub-title, however, for it was an extremely humorous piece -of work. - -In 1733 there appeared the _The Oxford Act_, a ballad opera. A crude and -unamusing play, it is nevertheless interesting as containing the germ of -modern musical comedy. The idea of the piece was to satirise university -politics, but the lack of construction and the laboured manner in which -the dramatist introduced his songs and manoeuvred his characters makes it -tedious and rather difficult to appreciate. - -_The Triumph of Isis_ was occasioned by a denunciation of Oxford by a -Cambridge man, William Mason, who was guilty of a poem entitled _Isis_. In -it he taunted Oxford upon the degeneracy of her sons who - - "... madly bold - To Freedom's foes infernal orgies hold." - -This was more than any devoted son of _Alma mater_ could stand. -Accordingly, Tom Warton, stung to a retort, girded up his loins and flung -off _The Triumph of Isis_, in which he hurled ten thousand thunderbolts at -_The Venal Sons of Slavish Cam_. Dr Anderson, who wrote a preface to the -collection of Warton's poems, says, "It is remarkable that though neither -Mason nor Warton ever excelled these performances, each of them as by -consent, when he first collected his poems into a volume, omitted his own -party production."[23] - -It was not until 1764 that _The Oxford Sausage_ was concocted. Its title -is singularly apt. It was a volume of choice scraps--selected pieces in -prose and verse which had already made their appearance in other and -earlier publications. It included several poems by Tom Warton, who edited -_The Sausage_, and contained others from _The Student_ and the _Oxford -Journal_. - -These then are the literary productions which distinguished the eighteenth -century in Oxford. From the numerous excerpts and passages quoted in -preceding chapters it will have been seen that there is not only an -enormous difference between the writing of the eighteenth century and -to-day in style and treatment, but in the method of conducting a paper. -To-day it is quite impossible to call a spade a spade. In those days it -was exactly the opposite. The whole point of writing was to call things by -their proper names. In fact, any other method would have been completely -misunderstood. The morals of the time were not more lax than now--that -would be impossible--but the language employed was, to put it mildly, very -much more unguarded. - -Matters were openly discussed in the drawing-rooms of the eighteenth -century which nowadays are supposed to be whispered in smoking-rooms. -Drunkenness and other kindred vices were held in high esteem. It was "the -thing" for him who had any aspirations to be a man of the world to have a -half dozen bottles of wine to his own cheek at one sitting, and unless he -succeeded in arriving at that state of helplessness which necessitated -bodily assistance from persons unknown, he was a dismal social failure. -Women, whose husbands were carried home night after night, smiled -leniently and did not dream of interfering. Many ladies indeed did not -deny themselves the solace of the bottle, and in the records of the time I -have found more than one reference to women who were well-known, almost -licensed, topers. The question of toasts, too, and the light in which the -university held them, was Gilbertian. The statutes sternly forbade them -under penalty of dire pains and punishments, but for all practical -purposes the statutes were a waste of time. Oxford was famed for her -toasts, and their dealings were not confined solely to the gownsmen but -also to Dons and Heads of colleges, who, far from carrying out the -statutes which they had made, pooh-poohed them and indulged themselves to -their heart's content. - -With such a condition of things it is not very remarkable that the -literature of the time should be characterised by coarseness of language -and ideas. Its humour was of the riper kind which permitted of no -possible misunderstanding. Many of the jokes printed in such periodicals -as the _Oxford Journal_ and the _Oxford Magazine_--both papers in high -repute which circulated among Dons, Undergraduates and residents--would be -quite unprintable to-day even in the most yellow of the sporting papers. -The pen of Amhurst was hampered by no considerations of delicacy or -modesty. Whatever he felt on any subject that he wrote, boldly and without -mincing, and the fact that his articles were read with interest and -delight by male and female alike is proof that there is no blame attaching -to him for scurrility. He was merely in the period. There are also -instances of women who wrote with almost the same degree of frankness as -did Alicia d'Anvers, who had, as I have shown, an immodesty of style -unique in the entire century. She satirised all the manners, customs, -hobbies and vices of the university with flagrant lack of good taste -which, judging by the characteristics of the time, made her poem a great -success. - -In the eighteenth century there were neither advertisements--except in the -_Oxford Journal_, and they were few in number--nor athletic fixtures. The -editors, therefore, had to rely entirely upon the merits of the articles -printed in their paper. Their sole hope of life lay in circulation, and as -they had not then discovered such "adventitious aids" as idols and open -letters, they were forced to do their utmost to make their paper bright -and readable. That they did so is obvious from the great number of -contributors who sent in articles regularly, and that, too, without any -hope of payment. - -From the point of view of journalism there is no paper in Oxford to-day -which can survive a comparison with Terrae Filius. He did not go outside -the university for his subjects, and yet in each paper he was topical, -forcible, and to the point. Beyond this he was amusing, and there was a -sting in each single word which made the unhappy subject of his attack -squirm in his place. He did not indulge in long-winded and abortive -discussions about matters of no interest whatever to the university, such -as are invariably to be seen in twentieth-century papers. He instinctively -hit upon the only subject each week that was before the eye of Oxford, and -in straightforward, pithy language wrote it down, laughed at it, or cried -over it. In whatever spirit he treated it he left nothing more to be said. -He used it up, exhausted it, and turned to the next point. Not having any -advertisers to consider--and he would certainly not have considered them -had they existed--he said what he wanted to say without fear or favour, -and if he did not attain to such financial success as does the milk and -water stuff of to-day, he did establish, beyond all argument, a reputation -which has already survived two centuries. Which of the existing Oxford -journals can hope to compete against such a record? - -However much eighteenth-century writers merit the charge of -coarseness--and it is not laid at their door in the spirit of blame but -merely as an illustration of things as they existed--they undoubtedly -attained a higher literary standard than the Undergraduate writers of -to-day. As, however, I have said that the modern standard does not rise -above mediocrity, I am not paying a very great compliment to the writers -of the Rowlandson period. Such is, however, my intention, for I cannot see -that there is such great brilliance in the eighteenth-century papers as to -justify my launching out into paeans of adulation. In all the publications -of the time there were, as I have shown, some excellent pieces of writing. -The sonnets and epigrams, dashed off at the coffee-houses to the beauties -of the reigning toast, were filled with classical allusions and subtle -parallels. This is somewhat remarkable because the Bloods admittedly never -did any reading. They had no time for it. However likeable and readable -these were, there was no genius, no striking merit in any of them. They -certainly showed more promise than the greater part of the work of -twentieth-century Oxford men--a point which is emphasised by the fact that -our predecessors were generally three or four years younger on going up to -the university. To-day we go up at about nineteen years of age. In those -days it was the fashion for men to arrive in Oxford in their fifteenth or -sixteenth year. - -With the exception of Nicholas Amhurst, from whom I have drawn with so -much pleasure, there can be found no Undergraduate of Georgian times whose -genius, in however crude a form, awoke in the pages of university -literature. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student's_ opinion of one--A Tradesman's poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties--Tradesmen's taste in - literature--Advertising and _The Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, - innkeeper--Amhurst's confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts. - - -Like Nemesis, the Oxford tradesman has sooner or later to be reckoned -with. His methods are, and for that matter always were, rather -spider-like. He sets out a beautiful and enticing web in his shop window, -and sits placidly in the darkness of his back parlour to await results. -One after another the Undergraduates, foolish flies, dash in; and then, -when they have been given sufficient time--a year or so--the spider -pounces and demands his just, but frequently exorbitant, dues. Sometimes -he does not get them. Spiders, however, rarely come in for any sympathy. - -The old-time Oxford tradesman was undoubtedly a man of parts. In all the -periodicals of the time are to be found odes, couplets, and prose-writings -all singing his praise. He constituted a factor of importance in the daily -routine of eighteenth-century life. It must, indeed, have been a sick -Smart who did not visit daily his barber and _perruquier_, his -horse-dealer, his tobacco merchant, his mercer and tailor, his -coffee-house. These worthy townsmen seem to have been, in fact, the sole -_raison d'être_ of the Smart's university career, and their pseudo -erudition and quite exceptional powers were the cause of an enthusiastic -article from the pen of _The Student_. - -"A tradesman of Oxford," he wrote, "is no more like another common -tradesman than some collegians are like other men ... the very sign-posts -express their taste for learning and superiour education. Our mercers, -milliners, taylors, etc., etc., have shewn their nice judgments in the art -of designing, by the many curious emblematical devices that so eminently -adorn the entrances to their shops. How sublime are the signs of our -innkeepers! the Angel, the Cross, the Mitre, the Maidenhead, with many -others, are too well known to need mentioning. A tooth drawer amongst us -denotes his occupation by an excellent poetical distich; a second with -great propriety stiles himself operator for the teeth: and my printer who -sells James's fever powder, Greenough's tinctures, Hoopers' female pills, -and the like, exhibits to our view in large golden letters over his door -the pompous denomination of Medicinal Warehouse. Nor are we at all -surprised to see written in this learned university, tho' over a female -bookseller's door, 'BIBLIOPOLIUM MARIAE,' etc. - -"Not to dwell too minutely on externals, every tradesman with us is a -mathematician, or philosopher, or divine, or critick, and what not? But -they are all to a man particularly famous for their skill in arithmetick. -For my own part I never dealt with one yet who was not thoroughly -practised in addition and multiplication. - -"I know an ale-houseman (he sells an excellent pot of ale) who has made -several experiments in electricity, but without a machine: I know a -grocer, a profound reasoner and speculative moralist, a bookbinder deeply -read in Geography, Chorography, etc., and a glazier, a great -mathematician, who has squar'd the circle several time _all but a little -bit_. A barber has published a cutting poem lately, which is universally -admired, and all his own making. It is not to be doubted that our Oxford -booksellers are excellent criticks. They can tell you the character of a -book by only looking at the title page. My own, in particular, is so fine -a judge of composition, that he begs me not to send anything to the press -till it has been submitted to his correction. Besides, I know he has a -strong desire to begin author himself, but his singular modesty will not -permit him to own it. He has, therefore, prevailed with me to erect a -small box, with a slit, in his door to receive the contributions of those -writers who chuse to be concealed. As I know the man's vanity will oblige -him sometimes to put in his mite, I desire the reader, when he meets with -anything particularly dull, to suppose it written, not by me, but my -bookseller. - -"I have often heard two learned tradesmen chop logick together on the most -sublime topicks. Once, in particular, I was present at a very important -dispute, when a shoemaker (a very honest fellow) affirmed, to the general -satisfaction of his audience, that the world was eternal from the -beginning, and would be so to the end of it. At another time, the -discourse running upon politics, a mercer (no small man, I can assure you) -wonder'd what a duce we would have. 'I'm sure,' says he, 'there's not a -happier Island in England than Great Britain; and a man may chuse his own -Religion, that he may, whether it be Mahometism or Infidelity.' A little -while ago I lent my Smith's harmonicks to my Musick-master, who has since -return'd it, assuring me that it is not worth a farthing; for 'twould -teach me the Thievery mayhap, but as for the Practicks, he'll put me into -a betterer method. I could produce many more such instances which I have -gleaned from their conversations; but these will be sufficient to convince -the world that no subject is too high, no point too intricate for their -exalted capacities.... I cannot conclude better than by giving a specimen -of an Oxford tradesman's poetical genius, in an extract of a letter from -my taylor, who (in the college phrase) put the dun upon me. In my answer I -advised him to peruse Philips's description of a dun in his splendid -shilling: to which he made me this reply.... 'But now to that which, you -say, breaks all friendship, a dun, horrible monster! I have _bruis'd_ -Philips, though, in some places too hard. As to the appellation, I cannot -think it rightly apply'd.' - - "For I - Ne'er yet did thunder with my vocal heel, - Nor call'd yet thrice with hideous accent dire; - But only with my pen declar'd my dread, - What most I fear'd, the horrid catch-pole's claw. - - "But you, - Whom fortune's blest with splendid shilling worth, - Ne'er fears the monster's horrid faded brow, - Fed with the produce of blest Alb'on's isle, - With juice of Gallic and Hispernian - Fruits, that doe chearful make the heart of man, - Thus sink my muse into the deep abyss, - As low as Styx or Stygia's bottom is." - -"_N.B._"--wrote _The Student_ in italics at the foot of this wonderful -poem, "I have paid him." - -There is a certain amount of pathos underlying that delightful piece of -mock praise. The thought of the mercers, grocers, shoemakers, and the rest -honestly believing themselves to have attained to a most unusual degree of -learning, by reason of their propinquity to a university, and parading -their monumental ignorance under that belief, is a very painful one. It is -even more painful, looking to the fact that most tradesmen, connected in -any way with Academic Oxford, read _The Student_ regularly, to know that -the above stream of ridicule did not enlighten them as to the truth. - -Another man who had evidently had the dun put upon him, not once but many -times, by sulky tradesmen, received (so at least it is to be supposed) an -unexpected windfall with which he settled all outstanding debts. The -wonderful and unaccustomed feeling of showing a clean slate was so strong -that he was moved to an ecstasy of versification to relieve himself. - - "The man, who not a farthing owes, - Looks down with scornful eye on those - Who rise by fraud and cunning, - Tho' in the Pig-market he stand - With aspect grave and clear-starched band, - He fear's no tradesmen's dunning. - - "He passes by each shop in town, - Nor hides his face beneath his gown, - No dread his heart invading; - He quaffs the nectar of the Tuns - Or on a spur-gall'd hackney runs - To London, masquerading. - - "Place me on Scotland's bleakest hill, - Provided I can pay my bill, - Hang every thought of sorrow, - There falling sleet, or frost, or rain - Attack a soul resolv'd in vain; - It may be fair to-morrow." - -From the fact that the man in debt had to hide his head beneath his gown -in order to get past the shops safely or else to pursue the longer but -less risky method of slinking down back streets so as to avoid meeting -creditors, it is certain that the shopkeeper who had lost his patience, -and was intent on nothing but getting his money back, was looked upon as a -fearsome and dreaded creature. His war tactics, aided by free access to -his customer's rooms, consisted of serving writs freely--putting the dun -upon his victims. One way to evade the serving was to sport the oak and -remain in voluntary confinement. Such a method was not, however, popular -as there was no alternative but work to relieve the tedium of such -imprisonment. Another way was described in the diary of a modern Oxford -man in _The Loiterer_. This "modern" gentleman was slacking away the -boring hour after breakfast in the perusal of "Bartlett's Farriery" when -there came a tap at his door, and in strode a dun with an insolent smirk. -The Undergraduate politely explained that he was shortly expecting a very -healthy windfall from home, upon receipt of which he would immediately pay -what was owing. The dun received this news with cold disbelief and refused -to be put off. Upon being offered brandy he became "sulky," and refused -with a touch of irritation. Then the Undergraduate, enraged at such -insolence, rose in his wrath and kicked the fellow down stairs to stop him -from becoming more impertinent. - -The dun must have possessed a curious character. Knowing well the -propensities of Undergraduates, he did not, like a wise man, imbibe the -liquid refreshment so generously offered to him, and depart with the -knowledge that payment, for that day at least, was impossible. Instead, he -refused brandy and waited to be kicked out--without, apparently, having -served his writ. - -The question of advertising was in those days only in its infancy. The -tradesman patronised Jackson's _Oxford Journal_ to a certain extent. In it -are to be found curiously worded announcements of medicines, books, -cock-fights, curacies to be drunk or eaten for, dancing masters who were -exclusive to the peerage, election paragraphs, and public notices; while -advertisements for wives and husbands, or loans of money, were not -infrequent. One of the most up-to-date and cunning methods then practised -was for two rival tradesmen to get up a mock ink-slinging match in the -columns of some periodical, and week after week furiously to denounce each -other as cheats, tricksters, and knaves, the one saying that the other -sold inferior goods, and _vice versâ_. - -_The Loiterer_, prowling round incognito in search of copy for his next -issue, witnessed a "circumstance" as he calls it, connected with -advertisements, which is not unamusing. He was seated in his favourite -elbow chair in his usual corner at King's coffee-room, and had almost -despaired of picking up an idea, when he noticed a very reverend and -respectable gentleman who was apparently quite unknown to every one in the -room, and who seemed more engrossed in his own thoughts than amused by the -newspaper he was reading or the laughter and talk from the others in the -coffee-room. Suddenly, calling for his bill, he finished reading a -paragraph in the paper with upraised eyebrows and a note of horrified -surprise in his voice. "Upwards of forty thousand persons of both sexes! -Good God," he said, "what a state must the cities of London and -Westminster be in!" The elderly gentleman rose, and on his way out placed -the paper into _The Loiterer's_ hand. Every one in the room had heard his -remark and observed the manner of his exit. Immediately, therefore, there -was great excitement, every one wondering what amazing thing had happened -that could have escaped his notice while reading that very paper. _The -Loiterer_ began calmly to read solidly through column after column to find -this wonderfully exciting paragraph. While he was doing so a thin, -emaciated man "with a sallow and diseased countenance who, I have now -reason to believe was one of the forty thousand, stepped forward and -elucidated the mystery in a moment." - -He rapped out an oath and swore that the old gentleman had been meditating -on the advertisement of Leake's Justly Famous Pill. - -From this perturbing episode in the coffee-house _The Loiterer_ got the -idea of using his paper for the discussion of the peculiarities of -advertisement indulged in by tradesmen, local and otherwise. "I shall pass -over," he says, "the various wants of mankind, together with the pompous -Descriptions, the florid and luxuriant Language of Auctioneers which is -capable of converting a paltry Cottage into an elegant Villa. Nor shall I -dwell on a curious Phenomenon, a political Advertisement for the Sale of -Perfumery and the Dressing of Hair. But it is impossible with the same -indifference to pass over the ingenious Mr ---- who sells his Wines 'for -the [Greek: podas ôkys] of ready Money only, Wines in which neither the -eyes of Argus, nor the Taste of Epicurus, can discover the least -sophistication.' - -"One advertisement informs us, that Chimney pieces, another that -Candlesticks, are 'fashioned according to architectonic Models, and -agreeable to the affecting chastity of the Antique.' A third lets us know -how much we are obliged to the Legislature, 'that he is now enabled to -offer Pomatum to the public agreeable to the commercial Treaty'.... What -Lady, 'who excites admiration on account of the superior charms that -animate her Complexion,' can withstand an Advertisement of the Palmyrene -Soap? Every systematical old Fellow that wishes to know the exact number -of yards which he walks in a day, will certainly furnish himself with 'the -Pedometer, or Way-wiser.' And I make no manner of doubt that all the -Gentlemen Sportsmen of this University will find it impossible to resist -the persuasive nonsense and absurdity of 'Guns matchless for shooting; or -twisted barrels, bored on an improved plan, that will always maintain -their true velocity, and not let the Birds fly away after being shot, as -they generally do with Guns not properly bored, this method of boring Guns -will enable every Shooter to Kill his Bird, as they are sure of their mark -at ninety yards; he bores any sound Barrel for Two Guineas, and he makes -them much stronger than before.' If we take this Fellow's own word we must -allow him, without a pun, to be the greatest Borer in the kingdom." - -The system of "tick" seems to have been very simple. It was only necessary -to enter a shop and order things in large quantities for the tradesman to -allow credit. In the case of dirty Dick, who was lured into becoming a fop -by the report of the appreciative remarks which the lady Flavia was -supposed to have made about him, the only thing which had to be done to -gull the ever-obliging tradesman was to spread a rumour that the sloven -had come in for a legacy. The result was instantaneous, and Dick became a -Smart; but whether anybody was ever paid is not on record. The various -inns, ale-houses, coffee-houses and wig-makers had little need to -advertise. The Undergraduates did that for them. In nearly every poem and -sonnet that ever was written the praises are sung of Tom's or James's or -Clapham's or Lyne's or Hamilton's, while the great Tom Warton immortalises -three "Peruke-Makers" in his _Ode to a Grizzle-Wig_. - - "Can thus large wigs our Reverence engage? - Have Barbers thus the Pow'r to blind our Eyes? - Is Science thus conferr'd on every Sage, - By Bayliss, Blenkinsop, and lofty Wise?" - -While on the subject of innkeepers there is an example of the consummate -impudence of Terrae Filius which is most worthy of note. He compared the -Rev. Dr Newton, Principal of Hart Hall, to an innkeeper, in a letter upon -Dr Newton's book entitled "University Education." - -"Some persons it seems," wrote Amhurst, "have entertained a notion, that -your hall is no more than an inn, of which you are the host, and your -scholars the guests. I am sorry, sir, to say that there seems to be some -reason in this notion, however merrily you may please to treat it. For do -you not, like other innkeepers, get your living, and maintain your family -by letting lodgings, and keeping an ordinary for all comers? Are you not -licens'd for so doing, like other innkeepers and retalers of beer, though -by a different hand? Indeed, you sell logick and other sorts of learning, -as well as provisions for eating and drinking; but that cannot destroy the -character of an innkeeper, which you certainly are in all other respects, -but only proves that you deal in some particulars which your brethren of -the trade do not.... You have, no doubt, the same right, with other -innkeepers, to bring in a bill, and demand your reckoning, when you -please; which I do not hear that Mr Seaman, or any other of your guests -ever refused to pay; but I believe you are the only landlord in town who -would offer to detain his guests by force, after they had paid their -reckoning, and oblige them to spend more of their money in his house, -whether they will or not." - -All these subtle parallels were, of course, not intended as compliments. -To call a Head of a Hall an innkeeper is not exactly to take off one's hat -to him. But Amhurst forgot that in a previous chapter he made a proud -confession of his own humble origin. His discourse was of great men sprung -from small beginnings. - -"What," he asked, "was of old the famous Cardinal Wolsey but a butcher's -son?... Nay, to go no farther, even I myself, overgrown as I am in fame -and wealth, stiled by all unprejudiced and sensible persons the instructor -of mankind, and the reformer of the two universities, am by birth but an -humble plebeian, the younger son of an ale-house keeper in Wapping, who -was for several years in doubt which to make of me, a philosopher, or a -sailor: but at length birthright prevailing, I was sent to Oxford, scholar -of a college, and my elder brother a cabin boy to the West Indies." - -But why drag in Wolsey? - -In King Charles's letter against the women of the university of Cambridge -he banned the houses of all taverners, inn-holders or victuallers. It was -this class of tradesmen in Oxford who brought up their daughters as -toasts. This was the reason why a statute was passed "Prohibiting all -scholars, as well Graduates as Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to -frequent the houses and shops of any tradesmen by day, and especially by -night...." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr Newton on - tutor's fees--Dr Johnson's recommendation of Bateman--Public - lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham man's letter. - - -Just as the schoolmaster is considered the natural enemy of boys, so is -the Don popularly credited with being the natural enemy of the -Undergraduates. The originator of this wonderful theory is presumably the -lady novelist who, with no deeper knowledge of Oxford than that obtained -from a minute study of the coloured photographs in railway trains, has -pictured the Don in her vivid imagination to be a crusty, inhuman, and -gouty septuagenarian who, in the intervals of delivering abstruse -lectures, passes his days in sending men down and otherwise suppressing -all vitality and humanity. - -Anything more completely ridiculous it would be impossible to imagine. -Conceive a body of charming and delightful men, very kindly and -sympathetic, always ready to go out of their way to help a man in -financial or moral difficulties, cultured, intellectual, hard working, -thorough sportsmen in the best sense of that much abused word, full of -loyalty to their college and to the university, delighted by the athletic -or scholastic triumphs of the men with whom they are in close contact--and -then you do not obtain anything more than a true description of those men -who do so much to uphold the honour of the university, and who are -remembered with respect and even affection by the generations of -Undergraduates who pass through their hands. - -The eighteenth-century Don, on the contrary, was a person altogether -different. In the desire to bring out the light and shade of his -personality I am frustrated by the superabundance of the latter and the -minute quantity of the former. In dealing with the Georgian Don I have -taken each species separately: the Tutor, the Lecturer, the Examiner, the -Head of a college, and so forth. - -It appears that the old-time fresher, having been admitted to a college, -was at once recommended to a tutor whom he interviewed in his rooms. The -Hoxton man, who came up with his mother and his dad, found himself called -upon by his prospective tutor to sit down and make small work of several -quarts of liquid refreshment to the healths of various "traitors." Being -somewhat flurried at this boisterous reception, the lad was assured that -he did not come to the university to pray, and that in any case, he, the -tutor, would look after him like a father. Of being called upon to do any -work with him there was no whisper. Gibbon, on the other hand, on being -placed under the tutorship of Dr Waldegrave, was desired to attend that -gentleman's rooms each morning from ten to eleven and read the _Comedies -of Terence_. This he accordingly did, but with so little advantage to -himself that, after a few weeks, he quietly dropped away and saw his tutor -no more. To counterbalance the accusation of slackness against Dr -Waldegrave, Gibbon described him as having been a "learned and pious man -of a mild disposition, strict morals and abstemious life, who seldom -mingled in the politics or jollity of the college." This worthy man -departed from the precincts of Magdalen, and Gibbon had nothing good to -say for his successor. "The second tutor," wrote Gibbon, "whose literary -character did not command the respect of the college, well remembered that -he had a salary to receive, and only forgot that he had a duty to -perform.... Excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms during the titular -months of his office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same college as -strangers to each other." - -The vindicator of Magdalen leaped into the breach on behalf of the tutors -against Gibbon, and gave a hundred reasons why Gibbon was in the wrong. -But there are numberless other instances of utter laziness among that -section of the Don world. Malmesbury, for instance, related in his usual -cheery and optimistic manner, that his tutor, "an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practice of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to do trigonometry." This witness matriculated at -Merton thirteen years after Gibbon's time. - -Another example of bad tutorship may be quoted from William Fitzmaurice, -second Earl of Shelburne, who went up in 1753. "At sixteen, I went to -Christ Church, where I had again the misfortune to fall under a -narrow-minded tutor.... He was not without learning, and certainly laid -himself out to be serviceable to me in point of reading.... I came full of -prejudices. My tutor added to those prejudices by connecting me with the -anti-Westminsters, who were far from the most fashionable part of the -college, and a small minority."[24] - -In the light of these adverse criticisms it is interesting to note the -statutorial view as to the ideal tutor. According to Amhurst, who quoted -statute (_d_), it was ordained that "no person shall be a tutor who has -not taken a degree in some faculty, and is not (in the judgment in the -head of the college or hall to which he belongs) a man of approv'd -learning, probity and sincere religion." But can these requirements be -called sufficient if the hundreds of tutors against whom their pupils -flung accusations of slackness, drunkenness, and other hobbies, all -satisfied them? - -_The Loiterer_, evidently with this insufficent statute in mind, made some -very intelligent remarks _à propos_ of this question. "Scarce any office," -he wrote, "demands so many different requisites in those who would fill it -properly, as that of a college Tutor, and in none perhaps is propriety of -Choice so little attended to. The Tutor of a College goes off to a Living, -dies of an Apoplexy, or is otherwise provided for; a Successor must be -found; and as few who have better prospects chuse to undertake so -disagreeable an office, the Society is sometimes under the necessity of -appointing a person, who is no further qualified for it than by the -possession of a little classical, or mathematical information. With this -slender stock of knowledge, and without any acquaintance with the World or -any insight into Characters, He enters on his office with more Zeal than -Discretion, asserts his own opinions with arrogance and maintains them -with obstinacy, calls Contradiction, Contumacy, and Reply, Pertness, and -deals out his Jobations, Impositions, and Confinements, to every ill-fated -Junior who is daring enough to oppose his sentiments, or doubt his -opinions. The consequence of this is perfectly natural. He treats his -pupils as Boys and they think him a Brute. From that moment all his power -of doing good ceases; for we learn nothing from him, who has forfeited our -confidence. Such is the Portrait of what Tutors too often are, might I be -indulged in pointing out what they _should_ be, very different would be -the Character I should sketch. I would draw him modest in his disposition, -mild in his temper, gentle and insinuating in his address; scarce less a -man of the world than a man of letters. His Classic Knowledge (though far -above mediocrity) should be the least of his acquirements; General -Knowledge should be his forte, and the application of it to general -purposes his aim. He should not only improve those under his care in his -publick lectures, but should endeavour at least to direct them in their -private studies; he should encourage them to read, and should teach them -to read with taste." - -At this point _The Loiterer's_ friend interrupted and insisted that no man -was ever born to be a tutor if tutors must possess all the attributes -contained in that description. Upon this _The Loiterer_ said that he knew -only one man in the entire university who came up to the standard, and -that man was his own tutor. - -Gibbon made a scornful allusion to the salary of tutors. On this subject -Dr Newton penned a multitude of indignant sheets because a certain -Undergraduate, named Joseph Somaster, demanded permission to leave Hart -Hall and transfer himself to Balliol for the reason that he had an offer -of obtaining a tutor there who required no fees. With regard therefore to -tutors' fees, "it may be observed," wrote the reverend Doctor, "that the -University doth allow Tutors to Receive a consideration for their care of -the Youth entrusted to them; that, as this is very Reasonable in itself, -so hath it ever been the Practice of Tutors to Receive a Consideration for -such their care; that the consideration they have received, not being -limited by any Statute, hath varied, and is, at this day, different in -different Houses of Education within the University; that the tutor's -demand being known, and not objected to before a Scholar is enter'd under -his care, the same, upon entrance, becomes the consideration that is -agreed to be paid for his care. That the Labourer is worthy of his Hire; -that some Hire is both a better Encouragement to a Tutor, and a greater -obligation upon him to take a due care, than no Hire; that the greatest -Hire, of which any tutor in the University is, at this day thought worthy, -compar'd with the Expence he hath been at, and the Pains he hath taken, -and the Years he hath spent in order to Qualifie himself for this trust, -and also, with the further Labour and Time he must employ in discharging -it faithfully, is very small. That unless Learning be the very lowest of -all attainments, and the Education of Youth the very lowest of all -Professions, Thirty Shillings a Quarter, for near three times as many -Lectures, is not so extravagant a demand, as that he who pays it, should -do it with an unwilling hand. Much less that any one, who hath Himself -been a Tutor, and who hath experienc'd a faithful Tutor's trouble and -anxiety, should think it too much for any of his Fellow-Labourers in the -same Vocation, although their circumstances should be so affluent that -they need not any reward, or their Friendship so particular that they do -not desire it."[25] - -In the time of Dr Johnson the college tutors lectured in Hall as well as -in their own rooms, and, in addition, they set weekly themes for -composition--for the non-performance of which the fine was half a crown. -The day for giving in these themes was Saturday. George Whitefield, though -only a poor starveling servitor with scarce a penny to bless himself with, -was twice fined by his tutor because he failed to compose his theme. - -Christopher Wordsworth in his book on the universities in the eighteenth -centuries made it clear that when Dr Johnson was at Pembroke in 1728, -"Undergraduates generally depended entirely upon the Tutor to guide all -their reading. His first tutor Jordon was like a father to his pupils, but -he was intellectually incompetent for his important position. For this -reason Johnson recommended his old schoolfellow Taylor to go to Christ -Church on account of the excellent lectures of Bateman then tutor there." -In Johnson's own words in reference to Mr Jordon, "He was a very worthy -man, but a heavy man, and I did not profit much by his instructions. -Indeed, I did not attend him much. The first day after I came to college, -I waited upon him, and then staid away four. On the sixth, Mr Jordon -asked me why I had not attended. I answered, I had been sliding in -Christchurch meadow. And this I said with as much non-chalance as I am now -talking to you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my -tutor." To this self accusation Boswell replied, "That, Sir, was great -fortitude of mind!" "No, Sir," snapped Johnson, "stark insensibility."[26] - -It is unnecessary to arraign further damning evidence against the Georgian -tutor. He stands convicted on the cases which I have related. Were I -called upon indeed to summon other witnesses for the prosecution, I have -but to turn to any eighteenth-century authority. No one has a word to say -in his favour. By every one he is pronounced to be an idle, -self-indulgent, dishonest, utterly unintellectual creature, conspicuously -lacking in "learning, probity, and sincere religion." - -The next division of the genus Don is the public lecturer, in regard to -whom there are, so Amhurst informed us, a number of statutes concerning -the public lecturers in all faculties: appointing, with the utmost -exactness, where they shall read, when they shall read, what they shall -read, how they shall read, and to whom they shall read. "All these (as I -have frequently observed) are almost totally neglected; out of twenty -public lectures, not above three or four being observed at all, and they -not statutably observed: for the auditors, who belong to the same college -with the lecturer in any faculty, do not wait upon him to the school, -where he reads, and back again, as they ought to do; so far from it, that -not one in ten goes to hear these lectures, nor do they (who do attend) -take down what they hear in writing; neither do they (I believe) -diligently read over the same author at home, which the public professor -undertook to explain; nor are persons punished (as the statutes require) -for any of these omissions." Even if it be admitted that three or four is -an exaggeratedly low estimate of the number of these lectures, and that -the "auditors" are just as lazy as the men who deliver them, yet it is not -to be wondered at that the Undergraduates did not read over the authors, -or write down what they heard. All the lectures were delivered by Dons who -knew next to nothing about their subject, and they were in consequence -very tedious and worthless affairs. - -The lectureships were bestowed "upon such as are utterly and notoriously -ignorant of them, and never made them their study in their lives. They are -given away, as pensions and sinecures, to any body that can make a good -interest for them, without any respect to his abilities or character in -general, or to what faculty in particular he has apply'd his mind. I have -known a profligate _debauchee_ chosen professor of moral philosophy; and a -fellow, who never look'd upon the stars soberly in his life, professor of -astronomy; we have had history professors, who never read anything to -qualify them for it, but Tom Thumb, Jack the Giant-killer, Don Belicanis -of Greece, and such like valuable records; we have had likewise numberless -professors of Greek, Hebrew and Arabick, who scarce understood their -mother tongue; and, not long ago, a famous gamester and stock-jobber was -elected to M--g--t, professor of divinity; so great it seems is the -analogy between dusting of cushions, and shaking of elbows, or between -squand'ring away of estates, and saving of souls!" - -[Illustration: A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD.] - -Terrae Filius was moved to the above denunciations and reminiscences of -lecturers, who, he said, were elected perhaps on the principle that "he -can do no mischief; ergo, he shall be our man," by the receipt of a -letter from a Wadham man who recounted his own personal experiences of -lecturers and their ways. It runs thus:-- - - "WADHAM COLLEGE, _Jan. 22, 1720_. - - "_To the Author of Terrae Filius._ - - "SIR,--I hope you intend to acquaint the world, amongst other abuses - in what manner the pious designs of those good men, who left us all - our publick lectures, are answered. Yesterday morning at nine a clock - the bell went as usually for a lecture; whether a rhetorical or - logical one, I cannot tell; but I went to the schools, big with hopes - of being instructed in one or the other, and having saunter'd a pretty - while along the quadrangle, impatient of the lecturer's delay, I ask'd - the major (who is an officer belonging to the schools) whether it was - usual now and then to slip a lecture or so: his answer was that he had - not seen the face of any lecturer in any faculty, except in poetry and - musick, for three years past; that all lectures besides were entirely - neglected.... Every morning in term time there ought to be a divinity - lecture in the divinity school; two gentlemen of our house went one - day to hear what the learned professor had to say upon that subject: - these two were join'd by another master of arts, who without arrogance - might think that they understood divinity enough to be his auditors; - and that consequently his lecture would not have been lost upon them: - but the doctor thought otherwise, who came at last, and was very much - surprized to find that there was an audience. He took two or three - turns about the school, and then said, 'Magistri vos non estis idonei - auditores; praeterea, juxta legis doctorem Boucher, tres non faciunt - collegium--valete;' and so went away. Now it is monstrous, that - notwithstanding these publick lectures are so much neglected, we are, - all of us, when we take our degrees, charg'd with and punish'd for - non-appearance at the reading of many of them; a formal dispensation - is read by our respective deans, at the time our grace is proposed, - for our non-appearance at these lectures, and it is with difficulty - that some grave ones of the congregation are induced to grant it. - Strange order! that each lecturer should have his fifty, his hundred, - or two hundred pounds a year for doing nothing, and that we (the young - fry) should be obliged to pay money for not hearing such lectures as - were never read, nor ever composed...." - -In the face of personal experience of this kind how is it possible to -believe that to obtain a degree was anything but a question of independent -work or the judicious administration of "pourboires"? To attend at the -right hour for a lecture which was never read, to be fined for -non-attendance, and finally to have great difficulty in persuading the -authorities to sign the necessary dispensation is a Gilbertian absurdity. -No other instance more striking than this letter can be found in all the -eighteenth-century chronicles of the attitude of Dons towards the -Undergraduates in their charge. Once certain of their annual stipend their -duties went by the board; and the Dons, whether lecturers or Heads of -colleges, whether they knew each other personally or not, banded together -to ensure their own safety, and signed to a lie in regard to the -delivering of lectures with the utmost unconcern. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining--College - Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the Magdalen Dons--Heads - of colleges--Their domestic and public character--Golgotha and Ben - Numps--St John's Head pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and - Randolph. - - -After the lecture comes the examination, so the examiner shall be the next -in line. Now the examiners were appointed by the senior Proctor, who -administered to them the following oath: "That they will either examine, -or hear examined, all candidates that fall to their lot, in those arts and -sciences, and in such manner as the statute requires. Likewise that they -will not be prevailed upon by entreaties, or bribes, or hatred or -friendship, or hope or fear, to grant any one a _testimonium_, who does -not deserve it, or to deny it to any one that does." The examiners were, -however, in the same parlous condition as the lecturers and tutors. - -The most mild of all the adverse criticisms was that of Henry Fynes -Cliton, who was at the House in 1799. He said that the examiners -discouraged Undergraduates from making a wide choice of authors for their -schools, and that if any one anxious for first-class honours took an -author not included in the abbreviated list as given out by them, they -would find a way to stop him from obtaining the coveted class. - -This entirely bears out the statement of Amhurst, who said that the -examiners were entirely ignorant of the subjects in which they examined, -and that the whole system was a farce and a scandal. - -"How well the examiners perform their duty," he wrote with almost -apathetic resignation, "I leave to God and their own consciences; tho' my -shallow apprehension cannot reconcile their taking a solemn oath, that -they will not be prevail'd upon by entreaties or bribes, or friendship, -etc., with their actually receiving bribes, and frequently granting -_testimoniums_ to unworthy candidates, out of personal friendship and -bottle acquaintance. It is a notorious truth, that most candidates get -leave of the proctor, by paying his man a crown (which is called his -perquisite) to choose their own examiners, who never fail to be their old -cronies and toping companions. The question therefore is, whether it may -not be strongly presumed from hence, that the candidates expect more -favour from these men, than from strangers; because otherwise it would be -throwing away a crown to no purpose; and if they do meet with a favour -from them, _quaere_ whether the examiner is not prevail'd upon by -intreaties or friendship." - -Another method of procedure then very popular was for the examiner to -receive "a piece of gold" or an "handsome entertainment" from each of the -candidates, or else to be made drunk by him the night before the -examination. The candidate took care to provide sufficient drink to keep -his man occupied busily till morning, and then they adjourned, "cheek by -joul," from their drinking room to the school. "_Quaere_" demanded Terrae -Filius again, "whether it would not be very ungrateful of the examiner to -refuse any candidate a _testimonium_, who has treated him so splendidly -over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail'd upon by -bribes?" - -Vicesimus Knox of St John's made very much the same statements about the -examiners, and added that during the time when they were closeted with the -candidates in the schools they did nothing but discuss the latest drinking -bout (which took place the night before), or talk horses, or read -newspapers and novels till the clock struck eleven--when they all -descended, and the _testimonium_ was signed without a twinge of -conscience. - -But college Fellowship was, perhaps, one of the most abused offices in -existence. Once nominated to a Fellowship, however unfit to occupy the -position, a Don was settled for life. He had a fixed income, did no work, -and worried about nothing but to retain his own particular corner chair at -the King's Head tavern or elsewhere. He stagnated for the rest of his -natural life, and became gross by dint of perpetual drinking. On the sad -subject of college Fellows T. J. Hogg, writing of Shelley at Oxford, told -us that at the end of the eighteenth century, - -"If a few gentlemen were admitted to Fellowships, they were always absent; -they were not persons of literary pretensions, or distinguished by -scholarship; and they had no more share in the government of the college -than the overgrown guardsman.... - -"A total neglect of all learning, an unseemly turbulence, the most -monstrous irregularities, open and habitual drunkenness, vice, and -violence, were tolerated or encouraged, with the basest sycophancy, that -the prospect of perpetual licentiousness might fill the colleges with -young men of fortune; whenever the rarely exercised power of coercion was -exerted, it demonstrated the utter incapacity of our unworthy rulers by -coarseness, ignorance, and injustice." - -Terrae Filius devoted one chapter, peculiarly conspicuous for its lack of -satirical venom, to the dissection of Fellows. His article was occasioned -by a report in all the papers of the death of Dr Pudsey, one of the senior -Fellows of "Maudlin College (who) died there last week aged near an -hundred years." "This," said Amhurst, "gives me an opportunity of -discoursing upon what I have always thought one great error in the -constitution of most colleges; which I will do with only this preface, -that I hope no body will think I design, in what I shall say, to reflect -on the deceas'd old gentleman before mention'd. The original design of -endowing colleges was undoubtedly this, to support such persons as could -not bear the charges of a learned education themselves, till they were -able to shift in the world, and become serviceable to their country; for -this reason all scholars and fellows (of most colleges at least) are -obliged to take an oath, that they are not worth so much per annum _de -proprio_, in some colleges more, and in some less; but in all colleges the -meaning of the oath is the same, that no person shall benefit of the -foundation who can live without it; but this oath, like other oaths, is -commented away, and interpreted so loosely, that, at present it does not -exclude persons of four or five hundred pounds a year.... When any person -is chosen fellow of a college, he immediately becomes a freeholder, and is -settled for life in ease and plenty; provided only that he conforms -himself to the ceremonies and caprices of the place, which very few will -stick at, who delight in such an indolent and recluse state; at first, -indeed, he is obliged to perform some insignificant, superficial -exercises, and to get a few questions and answers in the sciences by rote, -to qualify him for his degrees; but when these are obtain'd, he wastes the -rest of his days in luxury and idleness; he enjoys himself, and is dead to -the world; for a senior fellow of a college lives and moulders away in a -supine and regular course of eating, drinking, sleeping, and cheating the -juniors.... In many colleges the fellowships are so considerable, that no -preferment can tempt some persons to leave them; they prefer this -monastic, and (as they call it) retired life to any employment, in which -they would be obliged to take some pains, and do some good." - -Such remarks from the mouth of Terrae Filius are indeed quiet, but -however lacking in sparkle, they are filled with the truth. Turn where we -may, on every hand, the Fellows of colleges are written down and left -without one saving quality. - -The state of Magdalen, as related by Gibbon, was no better and no worse -than that of any other college. "The fellows or monks of my time," -according to him, "were decent, easy men, who supinely enjoyed the gifts -of the founder; their days were filled by a series of uniform employments; -the chapel and the hall, the coffee-house and the common room, till they -retired, weary and well satisfied, to a long slumber. From the toil of -reading, or thinking, or writing, they had absolved their conscience; and -the first shoots of learning and ingenuity withered on the ground, without -yielding any fruits to the owners or the public. As a gentleman commoner, -I was admitted to the society of the fellows, and fondly expected that -some questions of literature would be the amusing and instructive topics -of their discourse. Their conversation stagnated in a round of college -business, Tory politics, personal anecdotes, and private scandal; their -dull and deep potations excused the brisk intemperance of youth; and their -constitutional toasts were not expressive of the most lively loyalty for -the house of Hanover.... The example of the senior fellows could not -inspire the undergraduates with a liberal spirit or studious -emulation."[27] - -The common room, with its accompaniments of tobacco and liquor, formed the -scene in which the greater portion of their parts was acted by the -Fellows; for the rest, the taverns and coffee-houses, where the meetings -of jovial societies, of which they were members, were held. By way of -exercise, an occasional horse ride; nothing more. Their other chief hobby -was, in the language of the time, "wenching." Amazingly enough, they -still had sufficient energy, after living such a life, to array themselves -in all their glory, and sally forth to pay homage at the feet of the toast -of the day. In their attempts to cut out the Smarts in the affections of -the reigning queen, Merton Wall and Paradise Gardens saw them daily. -_Liaisons_ with their neighbour's wives, bedmakers, and bedmaker's -daughters were everyday occurrences; so openly, indeed, were these things -done, that songs were composed in various clubs of the doings of certain -Fellows mentioned by name, and satirical poems were written about them; -but there the matter ended. - -The character of a Head of a college, taken "in a more private view, -amongst their fellows in their respective colleges," was thus delineated -by Amhurst. "A director or scull of a college is a lordly strutting -creature, who thinks all beneath him created to gratify his ambition and -exalt his glory; he commands their homage by using them very ill; and -thinks the best way to gain their admiration is to pinch their bellies and -call them names, as the most tyrannical princes have always the most loyal -subjects; he is very vicious and immoral himself, and therefore will not -pardon the least trip or miscarriage in another; he is a great profligate, -and consequently a great disciplinarian; he petrifies in fraud and -shamelessness, and is never properly in his element but when he is either -committing wickedness himself, or punishing the commission of it in -others." So much for his domestic character. In the exercise of his public -functions he was one of a gang who "have as persidiously broken as great a -trust reposed in them by the Government, the nobility, gentry, and -commonality of England; that, under pretence of advancing national -religion and learning, they have introduced national irreligion and -ignorance; and instead of promoting loyalty and peace have encouraged -treason and disturbance; that they have debauched the principles of youth -instead of reforming them; that they have been guilty of wicked and -infamous practices of all sorts; ought they not, likewise, to be punish'd -in the most rigorous manner?" - -Amhurst found this a very sore subject, for, later on, he bore out the -theory of the promotion of ignorance, and said that they did their utmost -to prevent learning. "Whatever portion of commonsense they possess -themselves, they take especial care to keep it from those under their -tuition, having innumerable large volumes by them, written on purpose to -obscure the understanding of their pupils, and to obliterate or confound -all those impressions of right or wrong which they bring with them to the -universities; their several systems of logic, metaphysics, ethics, and -divinity are calculated for this design, being fill'd up with inconsistent -notions, dark cloudy terms, and unintelligible definitions, which tend not -to instruct, but to perplex, to put out the light of reason, not to assist -or strengthen it; and to palliate falsehood, not to discover truth." - -As further evidence of the amazing egoism and brutality of "Sculls," it is -worth while to quote the story of a Head of Balliol who held office in -these times. "A young fellow of Balliol College having, upon some -discontent, cut his throat very dangerously, the master of the college -sent his servitor to the buttery book to sconce (that is, fine) him five -shillings, and, says the doctor, tell him that the next time he cuts his -throat I'll sconce him ten!" - -Whenever there was important academical business afoot the Vice-Chancellor -and Sculls met in solemn conclave in Golgotha, the state room in the -Clarendon building. The room was handsomely decorated and wainscotted. The -wainscot was said to have been put up by order of a man of humour who went -up to Oxford for a degree without "any claim or recommendation." He -promised, however, in exchange for the degree to become a benefactor of -the university. The Sculls thereupon hurriedly engaged workmen who began -running up the wainscot, and they "clapp'd a degree upon his back." But as -soon as the degree had been granted, the benefactor disappeared, and the -Sculls were left to pay the workmen with money out of their own -pockets--which, of course, had been previously plundered from the -university. - -It was in this room that all the weighty business of the university was -conducted. In the amusing words of Amhurst, "if any sermon is preach'd, if -any public speech or oration is deliver'd in derogation of the church, or -the university, or in vindication of the Protestant succession, or the -Bishop of Bangor, hither the delinquent is summon'd to answer for his -offence, and receive condign punishment. In short, all matters of -importance are cognisable before this tribunal: I will instance only one, -but that very remarkable. A day or two before the late Queen died, a -letter was brought to the post-office at Oxford, with these words upon the -outside of it, _we hear the queen is dead_; which, being suspected to -contain something equally mischievous within, was stopt, and carried to -the Vice-Chancellor, who immediately summon'd his brethren to meet him at -Golgotha about a matter of the utmost consequence: when they were -assembled together he produced the letter before them; and having open'd -it, read the contents of it in an audible voice; which were as follow:-- - - "'ST JOHN'S COLLEGE, _July 30, 1714_. - - "'HONOURED MOTHER,--I receaved the Cheshear chease you sent ma by - Roben Joulthead, our waggoner, and itt is a vary gud one, and I thanck - you for itt, mother, with all my hart and soale, and I promis to be a - gud boy, and mind my boock, as yow dezired ma. I am a rising lad, - mother, and have gott prefarment in college allready; for our sextoun - beeing gonn intoo Heryfoordshear to see his frends, he has left mee - his depoty, which is a vary good pleace. I have nothing to complayne - off, onely that John Fulkes the tailor scores me upp a penny strong a - moost everyday; but I'll put a stopp to it shortly, I worrant ye: I - beleave I shall do vary well, if you wull but send me t'other crowne; - for I have spent all my mony at my fresh treat (as they caul itt) - which is an abominable ecstortion, but I coud not help itt; when I cum - intoo the country, I'le tell you all how it is. So no more att this - present: but my sairvice to our parson, and my love to brother Nick - and sister Kate; and so I rest.--Your ever dutiful and obedient son, - - "'BENJAMIN NUMPS.' - -"When he had done reading, the Sculls look'd very gravely upon one another -for some time, till at length Dr Faustus, late of New college, got up and -spoke to them in the following manner:-- - - "'GENTLEMEN,--The words of this letter are so very plain and - intelligible in themselves, that I wish there is no latent and - mysterious meaning in them. How do we know what he means by the - cheese, which he thanks his mother for? or how do we know that he - means nothing else by it, but a cheese? Then, he desires his mother to - send him t'other crown; now what, I conjure you all tell me, can he - mean by that other crown but the elector of Hanover; especially as he - tells us on the outside of his letter that the _queen is dead_? These - rebels and roundheads are very fly in everything they do; they know we - have a strict eye over them; and therefore if this Benjamin Numps - should be one of them, and have any such ill designs in his head, to - be sure, if he expected to succeed, he would not express himself to be - understood. So that, with all submission to my reverend brethren, I - think that we ought to sift this matter thoroughly, for fear of the - worst;' and sat down." - -A gentleman referred to as Father William then rose to reply. The grave Dr -Faustus did not overawe him as he overawed the rest. Father William, in -scathingly sarcastic language, told him that he was a fool, a John o' -dreams, always suspecting mischief where none was meant. "Who but you," he -said, "would ever have suspected treason in a Cheshire cheese?" The man -Numps, he explained to the reverend Sculls, was simply a poor servitor but -lately entered into his own college, who had not the brains necessary to -think out any plot. Therefore the fellow was sent for. He entered, -trembling in every limb at the sight of all these learned authorities -sitting in solemn conclave, and acknowledged his fault "full of sorrow and -contrition," and humbly asked their pardon. - - * * * * * - -Such was the characteristic manner in which the Heads ruled the -university, and the above incident is a typical instance of the weighty -business which arose from day to day. They were the counterpart of the -Pharisees, who strained at gnats and swallowed camels. In connection with -the headship of St John's College there existed a rather curious custom. -The Don elected to the Presidentship led the whole college, arrayed in -fullest academical garb, down to Christ Church, where they did homage. -Dibdin related that when Dr Marlowe succeeded to the President's Chair of -St John's College they were received at the "House" by Dr Cyril Jackson, -then Dean of Christ Church. After the performance of what Dibdin calls a -"humbling piece of vassalage" which was conducted with great pomp and -formality, the members of St John's returned, and were duly regaled with a -sumptuous repast by the newly-elected President who went to the various -common rooms--the masters by themselves, the bachelors by themselves, and -the scholars and commoners each in their particular banqueting room. There -he drank wine with them, and was loudly toasted. "I remember one forward -freshman," said Dibdin, "shouting aloud on this memorable occasion as the -new President retreated-- - - "'Nunc est bibendum; nunc pede libero - Pulsanda tellus!' - -"The stars of midnight twinkled upon our orgies; but this was a day never -to come again. Dr Marlowe sat for thirty-three years in the Presidental -Chair."[28] - -Having read accounts of all the pompous, evil-living and unpopular Heads -for whom nobody had a good word, it is refreshing to come across records -of thoroughly-liked men like Dr Marlowe of St John's and Dr Randolph of -Corpus, of whom R. L. Edgeworth sang the praises. "Dr Randolph," he said, -"was at that time (1761) president of Corpus Christi College. With great -learning, and many excellent qualities, he had some singularities, which -produced nothing more injurious from his friends than a smile. He had the -habit of muttering upon the most trivial occasions, _mors omnibus -communis!_ One day his horse stumbled upon Maudlin bridge, and the -resigned president let his bridle go, and drawing up the waistband of his -breeches as he sat bolt upright, he exclaimed before a crowded audience, -_mors omnibus communis!_ The same simplicity of character appeared in -various instances, and it was mixed with a mildness of temper, that made -him generally beloved by the young students. The worthy doctor was -indulgent to us all, but to me in particular upon one occasion, where I -fear that I tried his temper more than I ought to have done. The gentlemen -commoners were not obliged to attend chapel on any days but Sunday and -Thursday; I had been too frequently absent, and the president was -determined to rebuke me before my companions. 'Sir,' said he to me as we -came out of chapel one Sunday, 'you _never_ attend Thursday prayers!' 'I -do _sometimes_, sir,' I replied. 'I did not see you last Thursday. And, -sir,' cried the president, rising into anger, 'I will have nobody in my -college' (ejaculating a certain customary noise, something between a cough -and the sound of a postman's horn), 'sir, I will have nobody in my college -that does not attend chapel. I did not see you at chapel last Thursday.' -'Mr President,' said I, with a most profound reverence, 'it was impossible -that you should see me, for you were not there yourself.' Instead of being -more exasperated by my answer, the anger of the good old man fell -immediately. He recollected and instantly acknowledged, that he had not -been in chapel on that day. It was the only Thursday on which he had been -absent for three years. Turning to me with great suavity, he invited me to -drink tea that evening with him and his daughter. This indulgent -president's good humour made more salutary impression on the young men he -governed than has ever been effected by the morose manners of any -unrelenting disciplinarian."[29] - -Dr Randolph, Dr Marlowe, and the tutor of _The Loiterer_ are the only -three men whom I have been able to discover whose integrity was beyond -question. Three out of a whole century of Dons explains many things! It -proves the truth of the grave charges of vice, irreligion and perpetual -sloth brought against the Dons of the century, by every writer of the -time. It explains the bad government of colleges, general licentiousness, -and scholastic negligence which were the main characteristics of Georgian -Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of a - degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from Black - Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Izaak Walton and the senior - Proctor--Amhurst's character sketch of a certain Proctor. - - -The Proctor and his bull-dogs (entailing sudden scuttlings down side -streets, which, if abortive, lead to the nine o'clock string outside that -gentleman's door, and the unwilling disbursement of goodly sums--the fine -for being out of college at an unstatutable hour was 40s.!--because -forsooth, a man had the misfortune to cross his path without being arrayed -in statutable garb), loomed darkly on the eighteenth-century skyline. -Wrapped in the safe embrace of trencher and gown it was possible to watch -the great Proctors - - "... march in state - With velvet sleeves and scarlet gown, - Some with white wigs so hugely grown - They seem to ape in some degree - The dome of Radcliffe's Library." - -It was the redoubtable senior Proctor who was the guardian of the Black -Book, the register of the university, in which he recorded the name of any -person who affronted him or the university. The mere inscription of a name -in the Proctor's book may not seem a very fearful punishment, but it takes -on a darker aspect when it is discovered that no person so recorded might -proceed to his degree till he had given satisfaction to the Proctor who -had put him in. Amhurst explained that the Black Book into which the -Proctors put anybody "at whom, whether justly or not, they shall take -offence ... was at first design'd to punish refractory persons and immoral -offenders; but at present it is made use of to vent party spleen and is -fill'd up with whigs, constitutioners, and bangorians. So long as the -university has this rod in her hand, it is no wonder that high-church -triumphs over her most powerful adversaries; nor can we be at all -surpriz'd that Whiggism declines with the constitution club in Oxford, -when we behold people stigmatiz'd in the Black Book, and excluded from -their degrees for soberly rejoicing upon King George's birthnight, and -drinking his majesty's health." - -The question of making satisfaction to the Proctor who had inscribed a -name in that "dreadful and gloomy volume" was, in many cases at least, a -difficult and lengthy proceeding. The Merton Undergraduate, Meadowcourt, -who, as Steward of the Constitution Club, prevailed upon the Proctor to -join in drinking King George's health, was prevented for two years from -taking his degree. The "binge" was a quite considerable affair. Party -feeling ran high, and the Charles II. partisans gathered in their hundreds -outside the tavern in which the Constitutioners had foregathered. Amid -booing and hissing, they threw lighted squibs in at the windows. In a -subsequent interview with Mr Holt, the Proctor, Meadowcourt, having -apologised, learned that as far as Holt was concerned he had nothing -further to fear, but that Holt's brother Proctor, Mr White of Christ -Church, was vastly incensed, and had desired that "the power of taking -cognisance of, and proceeding against all that was done that night, might -be placed in his hands." To this Holt had agreed. Consequently Meadowcourt -found himself compelled to seek out Mr White. The interview was short and -stormy, the Proctor being in "an ungovernable passion, insomuch that he -often brandished his arm at him." - -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE.] - -Out of the doings of that adventurous, amusing and wholly reprehensible -evening the proctor White concocted the following charges which were duly -recorded in the Black Book, in all their pompous length:-- - - "_June 28th, 1716._ - - "Let Mr Carty of university College be kept from his degree, for which - he stands next, for the space of one whole year. - - "1. For prophaning, with mad intemperance, that day, on which he - ought, with sober chearfulness, to have commemorated the restoration - of King Charles the second and the royal family, nay, of monarchy - itself, and the church itself. - - "2. For drinking in company with those persons, who insolently boast - of their loyalty to King George, and endeavour to render almost all - the university, besides themselves, suspected of dissaffection. - - "3. For calling together a great mob of people, as if to see a shew, - and drinking impious execrations, out of the tavern window, against - several worthy persons, who are the best friends to the church and the - king; by this means provoking the beholders to return them the same - abuses; from whence followed a detestable breach of the peace. - - "4. For refusing to go home to his college after nine o'clock at - night, though he was more than once commanded to do it, by the junior - proctor, who came thither to quell the riot. - - "5. For being catch'd at the same place again by the senior proctor, - and pretending, as he was admonish'd by him, to go home; but with a - design to drink again. - - "Let Mr Meadowcourt of Merton College be kept back from the degree - which he stands for next, for the space of two years; nor be admitted - to supplicate for his grace, until he confesses his manifold crimes, - and asks pardon upon his knees. - - "Not only for being an accomplice with Mr Carty in all his faults (or - rather crimes), but also, - - "7. For being not only a companion, but likewise a remarkable abetter - of certain officers, who ran up and down the High Street with their - swords drawn, to the great terror of the townsmen and scholars. - - "8. For breaking out to that degree of impudence (when the proctor - admonish'd him to go home from the tavern at an unseasonable hour) as - to command all the company with a loud voice, to drink King George's - health. - - "JOH. W., _proc-jun._" - -In spite of the many entreaties on his behalf made by several -distinguished persons ("amongst whom were a most noble duke and a -marquis") Meadowcourt was unable to obtain the remission of his sentence, -and was compelled to wait the full two years before he could proceed to -his degree. At the end of that time both the proctors concerned had -retired, and the Merton man, upon applying to the proctor then in office, -was informed that nothing could be done until both Holt and White had been -consulted. The unfortunate man went from one to the other for weeks. They -"bandied it about, sending Mr Meadowcourt upon sleeveless errands," till, -at last, having jumbled their learned noddles together, they sent him a -paper containing the following articles, which they insisted should be -read by Mr Meadowcourt publicly in the Convocation House, before he might -proceed to his degree. - - "1. I do acknowledge all the crimes laid to my charge in the Black - Book, and that I deserved the punishment imposed on me. - - "2. I do acknowledge that the story of my being punish'd on account of - affection to King George, and his illustrious house, is unjust and - injurious, not only to the reputation of the proctor, but of the whole - university. - - "3. I do profess sincerely, that I do not believe that I was punish'd - on that account. - - "4. I am very thankful for the clemency of the university, in - remitting the ignominious part of the punishment, viz., begging pardon - on my knees. - - "5. I beg pardon of Almighty God, of the proctor, and all the masters, - for the offences which I have committed respectively against them; and - I promise that I will, by my future behaviour, make the best amends I - can, for having offended by the worst of examples." - -Having fought the almighty proctors thus far Meadowcourt was not, however, -the man to give in to such an absurdly overwhelming piece of indignity as -that proposed. He refused to read the paper, resolving rather to go -without his degree. He was advised, however, to plead the Act of Grace, -which he did after many further checks and delays. He emerged finally from -the unequal conflict with victory and a degree. This case I think amply -justifies Amhurst's assertion that the Black Book was used as a weapon -with which the proctors paid off personal insults and old scores, and the -injustice and abuse of the great power which they knew so cunningly how to -wield is only too apparent. - -The proctors, naturally enough, were vastly unpopular men and, supposedly, -realising this, did not go one iota out of their way to decrease the -general dislike attaching to them, but rather consoled themselves by -piling on the pains and penalties at every opportunity. The gownsmen were -not the only people who had a rooted objection to them on principle. Even -the townees and tradesmen regarded them with an unfriendly eye, and gave -them no assistance in the detection of Undergraduate delinquents. In -illustration of the light in which they were held by the townspeople -Amhurst related an amusing story. - -"A man who liv'd just by a pound in Oxford and kept an ale house put upon -his sign these words '_Ale sold here by the Pound_,' which seduced a great -many young students to go thither out of curiosity to buy liquor, as they -thought, by weight; hearing of which, the vice-chancellor sent for the -landlord to punish him according to statute, which prohibits all ale house -keepers to receive scholars into their houses; but the fellow, being -apprehensive what he was sent for, as soon as he came into the -vice-chancellor's lodgings, fell a spitting and a spawling about the room; -upon which the vice-chancellor ask'd him in an angry tone, what he meant -by that? - -"'Sir,' says the fellow, 'I am come to clear myself.' - -"'Clear yourself, sirrah!' says the vice-chancellor; 'but I expect that -you should clear yourself in another manner; they say you sell ale by the -pound.' - -"'No, indeed, Mr Vice-chancellor,' replies the fellow, 'I don't.' - -"'Don't you,' says the Vice-chancellor again, 'how do you then?' - -"'Very well,' replies he, 'I humbly thank you, Mr Vice-chancellor; pray -how do you, sir?' - -"'Get you gone,' says the vice-chancellor, 'for a rascal'; and turned him -downstairs. - -"Away went the fellow and meeting with one of the proctors, told him that -the vice-chancellor desired to speak with him immediately; the proctor in -great haste went to know the vice-chancellor's commands, and the fellow -with him, who told the vice-chancellor, when they came before him, that -here he was. - -"'Here he is!' says the vice-chancellor, 'who is here?' - -"'Sir,' says the impudent alehouse-keeper, 'you bad me go for a Rascal; -and lo! here I have brought you one.'" - -The proctors had the appointment of the examiners, and once now and again -they paid a surprise visit in their official capacity to the schools, when -the examinations (such as they were) were in progress. This was, however, -a "rare and uncommon occurrence." When prowling the streets in search of -whom they might devour their method was to search the coffee-houses and -smart establishments and give impositions to the "Bucks in boots" upon -whom they pounced. They left the ale-houses alone, or, in Tom Warton's -words:-- - - "Nor Proctor thrice with vocal Heel alarms - Our Joys secure, nor deigns the lowly Roof - Of Pot-house snug to visit: wiser he - The splendid Tavern haunts, or Coffee-house...." - -Izaak Walton described the senior proctor in 1616 as one who "did not use -his power of punishing to an extremity; but did usually take their names, -and a promise to appear before him unsent for next morning: and when they -did convinced them with such obligingness, and reason added to it, that -they parted from him with such resolutions as the man after God's own -heart was possessed with, when he said to God, There is mercy with thee, -and therefore thou shalt be feared (Psal. cxxx.). And by this, and a like -behaviour to all men, he was so happy as to lay down this dangerous -employment, as but few, if any have done, even without an enemy." - -The proctorship was therefore a difficult post to fill even a full century -before Amhurst was born to set down in black and white the iniquities of -his own time. Izaak Walton's proctor was the exception; Amhurst's seems -to have been the rule, and his character is given by Terrae Filius as -follows:-- - -"... of Christ Church, a tool that was form'd by nature for vile and -villainous purposes, being advanced to the proctorship, publickly -declar'd, that no constitutioner should take a degree whilst he was in -power. This corrupt and infamous magistrate had formerly been under cure -for lunacy, and was now very far relaps'd into the same distemper. He was -naturally the most proud and insolent tyrant to his betters, who were -below him in the university; but to those above him the most mean and -creeping slave. He was peevish, passionate, and revengeful; loose and -profligate in his morals, though seemingly rigid and severe. In publick, a -serious and solemn hypocrite; in private, a ridiculous and lewd buffoon. -An impudent pretender to sanctity and conscience, which he always us'd as -a cloak for the most unjust and criminal actions. In short, he was so -worthless and despicable a fellow, and had so scandalously overacted his -part in his extravagant zeal against the constitution club, that at the -expiration of his proctorship, when he appear'd as candidate for the -professorship of history, there were not above ten persons, besides the -members of his own college who voted for him." - -The anonymity of the blank space in front of the man's college is not -sufficient to conceal the fact that this character sketch, a bitter and -pointed attack, was most probably meant for the Mr White who distinguished -himself in the Meadowcourt case. As, however, from many instances, he -appears to have been no better and no worse than the generality of -proctors during the century, there is no reason why Amhurst's -denunciations should not be credited as descriptive of most of the others -of his kind. - -Modern Oxford has reason to congratulate herself that the reins of -government are no longer in such hands. There exist to-day none of the -abuses and vices which were so striking a feature of the eighteenth -century. They have all been swept away. Oxford has purged herself of them, -and in their place are to be found honesty, uprightness, and all the -cardinal virtues. The modern Don has nothing in common with his Georgian -predecessor. He relegates self to a discreet background, and devotes his -entire energies to the interests of those over whom he has authority; and -his pupils, on going down, harbour no feelings of contempt and -ill-feeling, but look on him instead as a man whose friendship is an -honour which must be treasured to the end. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards and - claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered afterwards--Edward - Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman - Catholic--Subsequent apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking - orders--Germs of ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism. - - -Academic Oxford of the eighteenth century has been thrown on to the screen -in different lights and from different sides. The Don, for the most part -inert in his elbow chair, puffing at his glazed pipe, with many bottles -and tankards at his elbow in the common room or the coffee-house; turning -up his nose at the impudence of any man who wanted to work; too lazy, and -in many cases too ignorant, to put skilful questions in the examinations; -abusing his trust as an examiner by receiving bribes, in the same manner -that he set the Undergraduates a lead in vice of all kinds outside the -schools; earnest and eager in political strife of the Vicar of Bray type; -keen on nothing but his own personal aggrandisement, either socially or -financially--in all these lights he has passed through the picture. We -have seen also the Undergraduate in all his class divisions--the humble -servitor receiving sixpence a week from each of his gentleman patrons, -doing the dirty work and odd jobs, keeping soul and body together on the -scraps that fell from the rich men's table, writing out their impositions -and scraping an education in the meanwhile, God knows how; the gentleman -commoner and the Smart, swaggering it abroad in the glory of their purple -and fine linen, sneering at the dull regulars, cutting lectures and -chapels, doing no work, incurring enormous expenses "upon tick," -following the example set by the Dons in drunkenness and wenching. We have -seen them amusing themselves, free from any kind of restriction, in -taverns, town and gown rows, on the river, in the cock-pit and the prize -ring, and dallying with the beauties under Merton Wall. - -Looking at all these things and to the general loose living which was the -keynote of the eighteenth century, we are apt to feel with Malmesbury that -it is a matter of surprise how so many of the Undergraduates made their -way so well and so creditably in the world. It has already been remarked -that the worth of Oxford lies not in the quality of the degree taken, but -in the education which environment and the association with better men -undoubtedly gives. The mere cramming of book knowledge would be useless -were it not accompanied by the far more important expansion of mind, the -broadening of outlook, and the formation of character brought about by the -social life of the university. This is palpably so in the case of the -eighteenth-century Undergraduate, since work was practically non-existent, -and a degree merely a matter of so much ready money. He could not do -anything else but take on the colour of the surroundings of vice and -intemperance which then reigned supreme. - -How is it then that any man emerged from the Oxford of this period and -succeeded in inscribing his name on the roll of fame? The reason is that -Oxford was a mirror in which was reflected London life. The metropolis was -simply Oxford on a larger scale, so that the Undergraduates were learning -at the university to do the things which would be expected of them in -after life; and the men who distinguished themselves at college were bound -to achieve renown later. The fame of such men as Charles Fox, the -pre-eminent statesman; Edward Gibbon, the historian; Malmesbury, the -diplomat; John Wesley, the founder of Methodism; Collins, the poet; and -the immortal Dr Johnson, is written down in the pages of history. - -Charles James Fox, one of the greatest statesmen England has ever seen, -came up from Eton to Hertford College[30] in 1764, where he was the -leading spirit in a little coterie which included James Harris, Earl of -Malmesbury, and William Eden, Baron Auckland. By his father he had been -initiated, while still at Eton, into the vice of gaming, by which he was -very deeply bitten. A still more curious fact is that although Fox as a -young man had no inclinations towards loose living he was taken over to -Paris and laughed into it by his otherwise doting parent. His innate force -of character, however, enabled him to resist what might have wrecked the -life of another man less strong, and although outwardly he was at Oxford -an idle gamester, yet in secret, in the small hours of the morning, he -worked exceedingly hard. Malmesbury has described this circle of friends -as a non-working, pleasure-loving body. Fox, as the leader of them, fell, -of course, under this category; but the results of his hours of private -grinding were quite extraordinary. He read "Aristotle's 'Ethics and -Politics,' with an ease uncommon in those who have principally cultivated -the study of the Greek writers. His favourite authors were Longinus and -Homer, with the latter of whom he was particularly conversant; he could -discuss the works of the Ionian bard, not only as a man of exquisite -taste, and as a philosophical critic, which might be expected from a mind -like his, but also as a grammarian. He was indeed capable of conversing -with Longinus, on the beauty, sublimity, and pathos of Homer; with -Aristotle on his delineations of man, with a pedagogue on dactyls, -spondees, anapaests, and all the arcana of language. History, ethics, -politics, were, however, his particular studies." - -Yet with all these accomplishments, which, in a period none too famous for -its learning, were all the more amazing, this extraordinary man was swayed -by his passion for gaming, and never behindhand in expeditions of debauch -with his companions. Cards were the favourite pastime then in vogue, and -it was round the baize-covered table that Fox cemented his friendship with -Malmesbury and Eden. These latter, both, subsequently, men of -international fame, also surrendered themselves completely to the -slackness of the time, and did their utmost to imitate with thoroughness -the London fops of whom they had some slight experiences before coming up. -While still gownsmen this triumvirate gave signs of their future -greatness. Their card parties were a centre of attraction, not because of -the high stakes for which they played, but for the wit and brilliance of -their conversation. Fox's eloquence was even then remarkable, and he had -"no cotemporary so erudite in knowledge, none so elegant in mirth." The -enormous possibilities of this Undergraduate were fully appreciated by the -college authorities. He was allowed to make trips to London, where, in the -company of his father, he went to the Houses of Parliament, and was a keen -listener at many of the great debates. When a proposal was on foot for Fox -to cross to Paris and make a stay of some months there, the Head of -Hertford granted him leave immediately with the unusual remark that such -application as his necessitated "some intermission; and you are the only -person with whom I have ever had connexion to whom I could say this." - -With characteristic thoroughness Fox outdid the most complete Smart in the -elegance of his dress. He made a special journey from Paris to Lyons for -the purchasing of waistcoats, and on his return to England was seen in the -Mall "in a suit of Paris-cut velvet, most fancifully embroidered, and -bedecked with a large bouquet; a headdress cemented into every variety of -shape; a little silk hat, curiously ornamented; and a pair of French shoes -with red heels; for the latter article of which he considered it of no -mean consequence that he was indebted to his own exclusive importation!" - -He had a great fondness for literature and poetry and, following the -customs of the times, he used occasionally to dash off an indiscreet -sonnet, or a more sound criticism of the current publications. Italian, he -declared, contained as a language more good poetry in it than any with -which he was conversant. The essential quality in any subject was that it -should be "entertaining." Without this, Fox refused to consider it. The -exact meaning which he read into the word is, however, somewhat difficult -to gather, for, writing to his friend Macarthey, he stated that he was -fond of mathematics and would concentrate upon it because it promised to -be entertaining. - -Oxford remained dear to Fox and the friendships he formed over the -card-table, and the various "rags" in which he took part were never -forgotten by him. When the triumvirate went down, their ways at first lay -separate. Eden's time was occupied first in getting called to the Bar, and -then, through the patronage of the Duke of Marlborough, to Parliament as -member for Woodstock. Malmesbury, an incipient diplomatist while still at -Winchester, left England and joined the British Embassy at Madrid. Fox -left Oxford before the age of twenty-one, and was immediately returned to -Parliament for Midhurst. For some twenty years the tide of life kept the -three apart, each striving in his own quarter. Then in 1782 Fox, who had -climbed higher up the ladder of fame than either of the other two, was -reminded of the old friendships of his Undergraduate days. Malmesbury, -then Sir James Harris, Knight of the Bath, was invalided home from the -Embassy at St Petersburg, and was instantly appointed by Fox to be -Minister at the Hague. The year after this, Eden, whose political career -under the banner of Lord North was a distinguished one, came again into -touch with Fox, and exerted himself to bring about a coalition between his -own chief and his old Oxford friend. It is practically certain that the -touch of sentiment roused by the remembrance of the old days, when Eden -and he played cards and drank claret beneath the spires of Oxford, was the -only reason why the coalition was brought about by Eden, for Fox -afterwards publicly avowed in the House of Commons, when the rupture -between North and himself was final, that "the greatest folly of his life -was in having supported Lord North." - - * * * * * - -"To the University of Oxford," wrote Gibbon in after years, "I acknowledge -no obligation; and she will as cheerfully renounce me for a son as I am -willing to disclaim her for a mother. I spent fourteen months at Magdalen -College; they proved the fourteen months the most idle and unprofitable of -my whole life." - -A boy of sixteen, thin and delicate, who from his earliest infancy had -fallen from one illness into another, possessed of an abnormal brain, and -for these two reasons shunning, and shunned by, his school-fellows both in -playground and classroom, and therefore compelled joyfully to fall back -upon books, with which he ate, drank, and slept--conceive such a boy, and -one sees Gibbon at Magdalen. Add to this the facts concerning the debauch, -the lack of "bookish fellows," the gross and inert Dons, all of which -characterised the times, and it is easy to appreciate the reasons why a -man like Gibbon, a high-strung, dreamy creature to whom any crowd of human -beings inspired positive fear, and whose interests were entirely removed -from wenching, drinking, and gaming, received no benefit from Oxford. He -went up intent on nothing but the pursuit of knowledge. In the course of -his dealings with his various tutors--which have already been set forth in -a previous chapter--he found that knowledge was to be obtained neither in -the lecture rooms nor the common rooms. To these latter, being a gentleman -commoner, he received invitations and went high in the expectation of -learned conversations and brilliant dialogue. He found instead no subjects -under discussion save horses, drink, and political preferment. This -beardless boy, practically self-educated and big with ideas upon the -important subjects of life, turned with disgust from the society of the -"port bibbing" and stagnant Fellows. With no definite course of studies to -occupy his attentions, and unchecked by any authority, the unaccustomed -feeling of liberty swept him into the infringement of rules and statutes. -To his tutor he gave casual excuses for non-attendance at lectures, and -disappeared from Oxford for days at a time. The unscholarly condition of -the university, and his own physical inability to join in any athletic -pursuits, united in preventing Oxford from making any impression upon him. -Her history, her architecture, her traditions, seem to have held no -interest for him, and he was more interested in making expeditions to -London and places in the surrounding country than in remaining in the -university and studying Undergraduate life. Even the beauty of Oxford's -old walls, tree-bordered lawns and walks, and winding river, made no -appeal to him. He was in sympathy with no single thing. It was a mistake -on his parents' part ever to have sent him up. A man of Gibbon's peculiar -temperament was entirely out of place in any university; more particularly -Oxford, in the state in which she then was. - -And yet in spite of the incompatibility between Gibbon and Oxford, his -university career was marked by an all-important incident in the -development of the great historian. By education and training he was a -Protestant, but, as was his habit with every subject to which he turned -his attention, he did not merely read books and swallow their contents as -indisputable facts. Everything he read was deeply pondered, made to pass -under his own criticism, and then compared with other authors on the -opposite side of the case. Consequently the subject of his own creed -underwent deep thought, and after reading Middleton's "Free Enquiry into -the Miraculous Powers which are Supposed to have Subsisted in the -Christian Church," Gibbon's religious beliefs were shaken. He decided that -Protestantism was inconsistent; he was dissatisfied with it. Filled with -the restlessness engendered by uncertainty, Gibbon read many works, -including Bossuet's "Variations of Protestantism" and "Exposition of -Catholic Doctrine," and the writings of the Jesuit priest, Father Parsons. -"These works," he said, "achieved my conversion"--the arguments in favour -of Roman Catholicism put forward by the Jesuit priest being the real -turning point in the scale. - -Having arrived at the conclusion that the Protestant religion paled into -insignificance before the Roman Catholic one, the Magdalen man felt that -he would know no happiness until he himself should join the ranks of the -"Papists." For once his thoroughness deserted him. He did not consider the -question--and the question of a man's entirely changing his religious -beliefs is a very vital one--with his usual exhaustiveness. Like a baby -with a new toy, Gibbon, the great and wonderful man of brain, world famous -and immortal, made a complete fool of himself. He rushed off to London -without more ado, and there, under the influence of a "momentary glow of -enthusiasm," "privately abjured the heresies" of his childhood before a -certain Father Baker, also a Jesuit, and became a Roman Catholic. For the -moment his belief was red hot, and he wrote a burningly defiant letter to -his father announcing his change of creed. The elder Gibbon at once -provided an excuse for his being sent down (a circumstance which very -probably would have come about on the Magdalen Dons' own initiative -without any excuse being offered to them), and packed him off to the care -of the Calvanistic minister at Lausanne, M. Pavilliard. The scattering of -the hastily-swallowed, undigested arguments which had brought about -Gibbon's precipitate action, was a matter of a few months to M. -Pavilliard, and in less than two years he was once more a fully convinced -Protestant. The ex-Magdalen man's _amour propre_ is fully demonstrated by -the unblushing assertion that although the Calvinist minister had "a -handsome share in his re-conversion," yet it was principally brought about -"by his own solitary reflections." Doubtless when he wrote those -statements he fully realised the extent and powers of his own brain, and -refused to admit that any ordinarily clever man could have, or ever did -have, any influence in swaying him from one point of view to another. One -is fully justified in assuming that had he not gone to a Calvinist -minister, but, instead, continued under the roof of a Jesuit priest, none -of the "philosophical arguments," to which he refers so glibly, would have -availed him, and Edward Gibbon, historian, would have remained a Roman -Catholic to the end of his days. - - * * * * * - -"Lord, let me not live to be useless!" was the constant prayer of John -Wesley, and it was the keynote of his character. The founder of the -Methodists, famous throughout the civilised world, and a man whose -personal magnetism and great brain were bound to bring him to the fore in -whatever profession he might have chosen, was actuated by a consuming -dread of being considered useless. A desire to achieve great things was -fostered during his Undergraduate days at Christ Church. He went there -with a sound knowledge of Hebrew, and began to achieve some note for his -skill in logic. This was the beginning of the growth of ambition, and the -fact that he was "noticed for his attainments" brought him great pleasure, -for at all times he bubbled over with humour and good spirits in full -realisation of his college notoriety. In consequence of this his -reluctance at taking orders, when proposed by his family, was marked. He -argued the question with himself fully while pacing his rooms at night, -and he wrote to his father and explained his reluctance. It is conceivable -that the life as led by gentleman commoners, with its wine parties, wild -escapades, and general moral carelessness may have been the reason of -Wesley's hesitation. For this clever, amusing lad was popular in his -college, and invited to take part in all the jollifications. Be that as it -may, the question of devoting his life to religion was a difficult one. -Wesley's self-examination, assisted by his father's scorn of becoming a -"callow clergyman," was doubtless attended by silent questionings as to -what was his speciality. The atmosphere and traditions of Oxford had laid -hold of him. The names of great men, sons of _Alma mater_, filled him with -the desire to emulate them, to excel them even. Their names were spoken in -awe and admiration. Why should not his be also? He was brilliantly clever, -of a clever family, and already had tasted the joys of fame in however -humble a manner. Why should he have to follow his father's lead and enter -the Church? Could he not do better for himself outside? Undoubtedly, for -there was more scope, less subjection to rules and orders, more individual -power. But, on the other hand, these speculations and desires to break -away were held in check by filial respect and love. His father and mother -were keenly desirous of his embracing a clerical life, and his mother -especially was of opinion that the sooner he entered into deacon's orders -the better, as it would be an additional inducement to "greater -application in the study of practical divinity." - -[Illustration: STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH.] - -Wesley, therefore, looked facts in the face and concentrated his whole -mind upon the study of theology. Since he could not be Prime Minister, he -would be a great religious man. He began by disagreeing with "The -Imitation of Christ," and held views on the question of humility which -lead one to believe that by this time the seeds of his ambition had grown -to trees. Jeremy Taylor's tenet, that we ought, "in some sense or other, -to think ourselves the worst in every company where we come," was flatly -contradicted by Wesley, who, although admitting absolute humility to God, -reserved the right to consider himself a better man than many another; for -when he was elected a Fellow of Lincoln, after he had been ordained, he -practically showed the door to all those of his visitors whom he thought -would do him no good, by reason of their not loving or fearing God. Then -an incident happened which had a lasting effect upon Wesley; which changed -his whole life. He travelled over to see what was called "a serious man." -Who this man was is unknown, but he was a student of psychology and a man -of keen intuition. He summed up John Wesley, and gave forth the remark -which had so great an influence upon him. "Sir," he said, "you wish to -serve God and go to Heaven. Remember, you cannot serve Him alone; you -must, therefore, _find_ companions or _make_ them: the Bible knows nothing -of solitary religion." - -Wesley never forgot these words. They were the turning-point in his -career. His vast brain and desire to become the greatest of God's servants -would not allow him to be merely a curate in the Established Church, thus -to serve God humbly. Even the chance of his eventually emerging as -Archbishop was not sufficiently big. Neither was the Roman Church large -enough, though from his characteristics it is conceivable that he was in -sympathy with the love of power which, in olden times, is said to have -marked out the Jesuits. The words of this "serious man" gave him furiously -to think. He would make companions, followers, disciples. He, himself, -would become greater than any of the men discussed by his fellow -Undergraduates by taking over the leadership of a band of religious and -ascetic men, who should occupy themselves solely in carrying out the -commands of God. - -Already his piety and zeal were much discussed in Oxford, for he led the -way to George Whitefield in attending the Sacrament daily and doing -charitable works. His younger brother, Charles, had formed the nucleus of -a religious order by meeting weekly with two or three serious-minded -friends and discussing religion. When John Wesley returned to Lincoln -after an absence of some two years, during which he had had time to think -out matters while filling a country curacy, these lads put themselves -under his leadership. It was the first taste of power and individual -authority. He ruled the little band sternly, put their practices into -order and method, and secured an "accession of members." He submitted -himself to rigorous fasts, and cultivated an eccentric appearance by -letting his hair grow. Even his brother, Samuel, himself really religious, -perceived that he "excited injurious prejudices against himself, by -affecting singularity in things which were of no importance." His mother -suggested cutting his hair off, but the money could not be spared from -Wesley's charities. His brother put forward that it should be merely -reduced in length. This Wesley agreed to, and it is recorded that "this -was the only instance in which he condescended, in any degree, to the -opinions of others." - -The culminating instance of his egoism lies in his absolute refusal, in -spite of his father's earnest entreaty, to take on his _cure_ at the -latter's death. He considered the proposal "not so much with reference to -his utility, as to his own well-being in spiritual things." The question, -as it appeared to him, was not whether he could do more good to others -there or at Oxford, but whether he could do more good to himself, seeing -that wherever he could be most holy himself, there he could most promote -holiness. He decided that he could improve himself more at Oxford than at -any other place, and at Oxford, therefore, he determined to remain. His -father wrote to him, "if you are not indifferent whether the labours of an -aged father, for above forty years in God's vineyard, be lost, and the -fences of it trodden down and destroyed; if you consider that Mr M. must -in all probability succeed me if you do not, and that in prospect of that -mighty Nimrod's coming hither shocks my soul, and is in a fair way of -bringing down my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave; if you have any care -for our family, which must be dismally shattered as soon as I am dropt; if -you reflect on the dear love and longing which this poor people has for -you, whereby you will be enabled to do God the more service, and the -plenteousness of the harvest, consisting of near two thousand souls, -whereas you have not many more souls in the university--you may, perhaps, -alter your mind and bend your will to His, who has promised if in all our -ways we acknowledge Him, He will direct our paths." - -In the face of this stirring appeal from an aged father what did Wesley -reply? He refused absolutely to entertain the matter. His -self-centredness, the while he directed the religious beliefs and -operations of the small body of disciples at Oxford, made him forget all -considerations of filial duty and love and of God's commands to obedience. -His parents had been the reason of his entering the Church. He would make -no further sacrifice for them now that he saw his way clear. His father, -mother, the thousands of poor people--nobody and nothing mattered except -that he should make himself more holy! The petty duties, worries, and -cares, the continual small demands of trifling points entailed by such a -curacy were too small for this striving, all-conquering spirit. What -mattered it that he should send his father's grey hairs down in sorrow to -the grave? - -All this while, he was most certainly turning over the saying of the -"serious man"--to _make_ followers. On his father's death it was proposed -that he should go to America. Here was his great chance. Oxford had taught -him that to expect to make English people, in their then blind and vicious -state, see the truth of the gospel of Christ, was futile and childish. He -was a prophet in his own country. But America, with all its -unsophisticated, raw children, its ripeness for a strong man to come with -the gift of oratory and sweep the country from end to end--there was his -chance! And afterwards, on the crest of his fame and success, then would -he convert England. His glory would have preceded him, and he would return -as one already great, to whom they would lend a more willing ear. But with -the astuteness of a really clever man, he peremptorily refused the offer -to send him out there. As a natural result the proposers of the scheme -argued. By degrees he allowed his willingness to be seen, though he -piously pointed out that as he was his mother's support, the staff of her -age, he could not go without her consent. This she immediately gave, as he -well knew she would. Accordingly, filled with exultation, buoyed up by a -feeling of certainty as to his ultimate success, John Wesley left Oxford -and England for the new country on which he intended to stamp his -personality, and by whose conquest he was determined to hand down his name -to posterity in the profession to which he had reconciled himself at the -age of some nineteen years while still an Undergraduate of Christ Church. - -Had Wesley not gone up to Oxford, his name might never have been added to -the list of England's famous men. It was Oxford which first showed him the -narrowness of a small curacy, Oxford which set him contemplating -greatness, Oxford which actually started him in command of disciples. -Therefore it is to Oxford that must be attributed the foundation, growth, -and fame of Methodism, the means by which John Wesley attained his ends, -power, and celebrity. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work--Oxford kills - his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely - freshman--Translates Pope's _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from - poverty--Dr Adam, his tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of - showing off--His love of Pembroke. - - -William Collins has been claimed as the greatest lyric poet of the -eighteenth century. But, as is so often the case with famous men, his -genius during his life time received no recognition. It was only when the -world learned of his death, after he has been removed from a madhouse, -that his few works began to come in for the notice which they deserved. -Perhaps one of the reasons that life brought him no triumphant successes -was the fact that he knew not how to work; and the blame of this -undoubtedly falls upon Oxford. Whilst at school Collins worked steadfastly -both in the matter of examinations and independent poems. It was at -Winchester that he wrote his _Persian Eclogues_, and in proof of his -capacity for study he headed the list for nomination to an Oxford college, -which included Warton and Whitehead. Oxford caused him to dwindle into a -mere dilettante, a Smart, although he was accused falsely of bringing with -him from school "a sovereign contempt for all academic studies and -discipline." The beginning of his Undergraduate life was marked by his -strutting about in fine clothes with a feather in his cap, and running up -heavy bills at the booksellers and tailors. The steady reading which he -must have got through to enable him to head the school list was now -laughed at. No one else did any work. Why should he? The Dons at Magdelen -did not enforce the college exercises, and those which Collins -condescended to put in showed signs of great genius and great indolence. -The atmosphere of slacking, and card and wine parties which prevailed in -the university seized hold of Collins, and he indulged himself to the -full. - -From time to time the poetry that was in him overflowed in an ode or two, -but he was delighted to be interrupted by some genial friend in the middle -of his work, and there the poem would be left. He frequented parties -daily, entering thoroughly into the spirit of flippancy which -characterised all his smart friends. He loved to be the centre of -attraction, to talk and laugh and jest with a circle of admirers. Those -who did not think as he did were dubbed "damned dull fellows." The -complete liberty enjoyed by him as a gownsman killed the habit of work so -forcibly inculcated at his school. No sooner did he sit down in his rooms -to read than the thought of a call that he must pay brought him to his -feet again. His entire freedom was his ruin. Had he been compelled to work -during certain hours every day, it is certain that Collins would have been -less of a butterfly, and probable that he would not have lost his reason. -As it was, the lax authority bred in him a desire to partake of the -dissipation and gaiety of London, and caused him to relegate work and -poetry to a secondary and quite unimportant consideration. He became -content merely to draw up the outline of vast schemes for future work. -That which he did complete was short and unsatisfying. He began other -things and never completed them. In momentary bursts of enthusiasm he -would dash off the commencement of some perfect lyric with inspiration and -genius. But his powers of concentration had been sapped. He had not the -strength to go on working. The call to a tea-party, any outside matter of -no importance, was sufficient to make him throw his work into the fire and -rush off to enjoy himself. He even went so far as to receive money on the -_scenario_ of a work on condition of promising the completion by a certain -date. For some days he was steadied. His usual haunts saw him not. Behind -sported oak he sat and toiled, striving to conquer the distracting -thoughts aroused by the chime of a bell, the street cries which drifted up -to his window, the rustle of a branch in the trees outside, the tramp of -footsteps on his staircase, the shouts from a distant quad. The effort was -too much for him. Oxford had completely stifled whatever will-power he had -ever possessed. He was beaten by her, robbed of the faculty of using the -gifts which God had given him. He emerged from the struggle with several -pages of _scenario_, and nothing more was ever attempted. - -The praise of his friends round the Oxford tea-tables turned him into a -consistent prevaricator. "To-morrow I will write! To-morrow shall see my -epoch-making poem. To-morrow!" But to-morrow came and was passed in equal -idleness and futilities. "Wait till I get to London. Ah, then!" He was -convinced that he had but to arrive in the metropolis to be the centre of -a storm of praise and admiration. The praise and adulation poured upon him -by his fellow Undergraduates convinced him that his wit and genius would -make a brilliant success in London, and win him a fortune. But it was not -to be. His weakness and lack of resolve and initiative had triumphed. He -became an _habitué_ of coffee-houses, and formed acquaintances with -actors, wasting his time at stage doors. He soon dissipated his money, and -became badly in debt. The schemes for work by which to win fame and -retrieve his fortunes died at their birth, and nothing was carried -through. - -There cannot be definitely laid at Oxford's door the accusation of being -the root of the insanity which subsequently developed in him. But it was -undoubtedly the fault of Oxford that he lost so soon the power over his -will which he possessed before his Undergraduate days. Such a man as -Collins needed the control of a guiding hand, some strong man whose -influence would have acted as a spur, and whose example would have led to -regular hours and serious work. Oxford, however, provided no such man. The -appointed tutor, who must have been a person gross in mind and body, took -no trouble with his charge, exercised no care, left him, indeed, to his -own resources. With him lies the blame for Collins' madness. By leaving -him to follow the loose example of the Undergraduates of the time, who -acted upon the caprice of the moment whether for good or evil, that tutor -withheld, however unconsciously, the support for which the fragile mind of -Collins craved. Consequently, under the evil influence of -eighteenth-century Oxford, the holds upon his will which kept Collins -within the bounds of sanity were gradually loosened, until at length, a -few years after his going down, his reason entirely left him, and he who -should have been one of the world's greatest poets was lost. - - * * * * * - -In a room on the second floor over the gateway at Pembroke Dr Johnson -lived during his Undergraduate career. A large-browed, unusual looking -lad, whose clothes were even then ill-fitting and badly cut, he came up at -the age of nineteen under the protecting wing of his father; was duly -introduced to his tutor, and moved in, reverently and tenderly, the only -household gods that he possessed--his books. - -Of a melancholic and somewhat bitter disposition already, he was, if -possible, even more lonely and unsought than the average freshman. This -condition of things caused him no regret. All his friends he brought with -him to line the bookshelves, and, sporting his oak against an unrealising -and unappreciative world, he revelled in the poets and the classics with -uninterrupted bliss. But the vitality of youth does not long remain -daunted, and Johnson soon threw off his melancholia and sallied forth into -the cobbled streets in search of amusement or adventure. Through the -bare-armed trees of the Broad Walk he made his way and joined in the -sliding in the frozen Christ Church meadows. Work was forgotten in the -biting, frosty, invigorating air, and for four days his tutor saw him not. -Ice does not come every year, and Johnson made the most of it while it -lasted. - -The college exercises were child's play to him. Unlike the majority of -Undergraduates of the time, who read nothing but what was put into their -hands by their tutor, Johnson brought with him to the university such a -wide acquaintance with books, both of classics and poetry, that the Master -of Pembroke said in all sincerity that he was better qualified for the -university than any man during his time. With such knowledge and with the -impetuousness that was always one of his chief characteristics, it is not -to be wondered at that Johnson dashed off his exercises at top speed, and -with a brilliance that created awe in the minds of the Dons. In one case, -for instance, being requested to translate Pope's _Messiah_ into Latin -verse, Johnson retired to his chamber and there, behind closed doors, -wrote feverishly on a corner of his book-strewn table. The results of his -rapid labours were twofold. He established a great reputation not only in -his college but in the entire university, and, more than that, earned -Pope's highest praise, and brought about his statement that in later days -it would be a question whether his own or Johnson's version would be -considered the original. One of his favourite haunts was Pembroke gate. -There he lounged away his mornings, doing no work, attending no lectures, -and preventing a crowd of listening Undergraduates from doing work or -attending lectures. Like a king surrounded by his court, Johnson, unkempt -of hair and ragged of clothes, with shoes down at heel and fit only for -the rubbish heap, let fly his wit and satire upon every topic. The shouts -of laughter which he provoked from his compeers bound them to him as -though he had been a Pied Piper, and it was to empty benches that the Dons -delivered their empty discourses. Against the tutors and Fellows also he -turned his tongue, and his satire and humour at their expense allied the -Undergraduates still more closely to him. But these merry meetings in the -Pembroke gateway were only a pose on Johnson's part. He wished to convey a -certain impression, and he succeeded. The Master of Pembroke told Boswell -that he "was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and -frolicksome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his life." - -This was indeed a proof of the success of his pose; for in reality he was -neither gay nor happy. His poverty, the bareness of his rooms, the -shabbiness of his dress, the consequent inability to go anywhere, even -into Christ Church, or do any of the things that the other men did who had -money, ground into his soul. He was bitterly sensitive of these things, -and the least reference to them, however delicate or well-meaning, either -aroused a torrent of hot words, or caused him to retreat clam-like into -his shell. The man who in a spirit of discreet friendship crept up to his -rooms, left a new pair of shoes outside his door and stole unseen away, -was only rewarded for his good-nature by learning that Johnson had thrown -them out of the window in a burst of fury against the creation that had -left him penniless. It was only the fact that scornful eyes (or at any -rate Johnson's touchiness interpreted scorn into them) were turned upon -his shoes, through which his feet peered frankly out, that Johnson ceased -going to Christ Church to obtain, second hand, the lectures of Bateman -from his friend Taylor. He conceived poverty to be an awful and dangerous -state. After his father had died, leaving practically nothing for his -mother and himself, Johnson wrote in one of his little diaries: -"Meanwhile let me take care that the powers of my mind may not be -debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me into criminal -act." By force of having no money, and not receiving any remittances from -his father, by whom every penny had to be made to go the distance of two, -he naturally incurred debts at Oxford. As he knew, however, that it would -be only with difficulty that his expenses would be met at all, his debts -were not large, and any incipient extravagance that may have been in him -was crushed out very early. His one great craving was to replenish his -library, and as this was impossible he took every opportunity of visiting -the well-stocked libraries of other people. These gave him intense joy, -and his first move was always to cross to the bookshelves and there, -oblivious of his host and the whole world, to pour over the beloved -volumes. - -His faculty for poetical and prose writings was already strongly developed -when first he came up to Oxford, and the original points of view from -which he wrote his themes were a subject of great comment. The rest of the -Undergraduates were as children when compared to one of his mental -abilities. Even his tutor admitted that his position was farcical, and -that Johnson was far above him in brain capacity, for he said on one -occasion that "I was his nominal tutor but he was above my mark." And the -lad was then but some nineteen years of age! Merely to perform college -exercises was absurd and irritating to one of his hasty dispositions. -Having rattled them off, he used to read by himself, but with such a -varied and impetuous taste that his knowledge seemed to include every -subject of which anything had ever been written. Boswell says that "he -told me, that from his earliest years he loved to read poetry, but hardly -ever read any poem to an end; that he read Shakespeare at a period so -early, that the speech of the ghost in _Hamlet_ terrified him when he was -alone; that _Horace's Odes_ were the composition in which he took most -delight, and it was not long before he liked his _Epistles_ and -_Satires_.... What he read most solidly at Oxford was Greek; not the -Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, and now and then a little -epigram; that the study of which he was most fond was Metaphysicks." But -for all his brilliance Johnson went down without taking a degree. His -father's death rendered it impossible for him to remain at Oxford for the -full course, and he never went in for the schools. - -While at the university he did not form many great friendships. His was -not the temperament. A highly sensitive man, surrounded for the most part -by men of some wealth who were ever ready to incur expenses, he was always -on the look-out for an objectionable glance of pity or sympathy, than -which there was to him nothing worse or more heinous. With his wonderful -talents it was rather for him to look down upon the vacuous moneyed men -than permit himself to be patronised by them. Consequently, fully -realising the almost insurmountable handicap of comparative penury, -Johnson preferred to make his way by force of brain power or not at all, -rather than bow down to the man with a fat purse. As he himself said in -after life, "I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I -disregarded all authority." - -As a man of readiness and physical pluck he was without rival. In the -summer the thought of sunshine and the wonderful green colourings of the -trees called him from his books, and collecting a companion on the way, he -was used to saunter through the parks to enjoy a bathe. His pulses -tingling with the delight of being alive and young on a glorious day, with -the softly waving branches rustling overhead, and the quiet river gliding -at his feet, Johnson's flow of fancies kept his companion entranced until -they had thrown off their clothes and were ready for the first cool -splash. There existed apparently a certain deep hole in the river bed in -one of the places where they used to bathe, and Johnson's friend warned -him of the danger. Immediately, with the uncaring folly of youth, Johnson -plunged into the very spot to his friend's horror and anxiety. In a few -moments he emerged, blowing like a healthy grampus, and poured ridicule -upon his well-meaning if timid friend. He was, indeed, foolhardy to the -point of braggadocio. A very sure proof of this is afforded by an incident -which occurred when he was staying at Mr Beauclerk's house in the country. -The guests were outside the house one day on the lawn discussing the -merits of their guns, when one of them pointed out that if a gun were -loaded with many balls there was a danger of its bursting. Johnson -promptly slipped in some seven or eight and fired his gun against the wall -of the house. Instead of rating him soundly for his egregiously childish -love of showing off, Boswell, in his blind idolatry, praises this up as -being "resolution." - -At Oxford, and in fact afterwards, it was Johnson's habit to sally forth -at night time for solitary walks. His great affection for Oxford was -doubtless stimulated by these lonely prowls through the moonlit streets, -and his entire disregard for the consequences of his actions helped him in -his climbs back into college. One can picture him dropping out of Pembroke -after careful glances to right and left to see that all was clear, and -marching along with his hands behind his back, safe from the scornful eyes -of Smarts, which made his mean clothes infinitely more uncomfortable, his -eyes drinking in the beauties of the wonderful skyline of the City of -Spires, his mind occupied perhaps in thinking out Rasselas as he made his -way through the narrow, deserted streets. On one of these expeditions four -roughs sprang out upon him suddenly from the shadow of a gateway, intent -on relieving him of the purse and jewellery which they supposed him to -have. Their mistake was twofold, for, in addition to lighting upon a poor -man, they had also caught a tartar. Johnson, young and active, struck out -lustily and with skill, and, setting his back to the wall, battered the -scoundrels right royally. Savage at being resisted, the men renewed their -attack with the idea of vengeance, but Johnson, with no other aid than his -fists, kept them at bay until the quick tramp of feet hurrying round the -corner announced the presence of the watch, and both the attackers and -their would-be victim were carried off to the round-house. - -At a later period in his career when, one would have thought, his quick -temper should have been entirely under control, he had an amusing -adventure in the playhouse at Lichfield which showed, plainly enough, both -that he could still lose his temper and that he had sufficient strength to -carry things through. A chair had been placed for Johnson's express use -between the side scenes. Wishing, however, to speak with some one in -another part of the building, he left it for a moment. Some gentleman -promptly took possession, and Johnson, finding on his return that his -place was occupied, civilly demanded his seat. The gentleman rudely -refused to give it up. In a flash Johnson laid hold of him and tossed both -man and chair into the pit. - -In spite of the fact that Johnson at Pembroke suffered tortures from being -poor, and that his gay and frolicsome habits were merely a cloak to hide -his bitterness, yet he contracted a love for his college which endured to -his death. It was a matter of pride to him to run over the list of names -of the celebrated men educated at the same college: such names as Spenser, -Shenstone, Blackstone, and others. In the "Memoirs of the Life and -Correspondence of Hannah Moore" is found the following passage -illustrative of his love for the old college. "Who do you think is my -present cicerone at Oxford? Only Dr Johnson! and we do so gallant it -about! You cannot imagine with what delight he showed me every part of his -own college.... Dr Adams, the Master of Pembroke, had contrived a very -pretty piece of gallantry. We spent the day and evening at his house. -After dinner Johnson begged to conduct me to see the college, he would let -no one else show it me but himself. 'This was my room; this Shenstone's.' -Then after pointing out all the rooms of the poets who had been of his -college, 'In short,' said he, 'we were a nest of singing birds. Here we -walked, there played cricket.' He ran over with pleasure the history of -the juvenile days he passed there.... But alas! Johnson looks very ill -indeed--spiritless and wan. However he made an effort to be cheerful...." - -As a last token of his love for Pembroke he sent the college a present of -all his works. This was done just before his death, and Boswell tells us -that he was most anxious to bequeath his house at Lichfield to the college -as well. His friends, however, "very properly dissuaded him from it." - - * * * * * - -And now reluctantly I lay down my pen. It would be possible to continue -for ever with such a subject as Oxford. Oxford, filled with the mystic -echoes of the past, and the life and movement of the present, where a man -passes four of the best years of his life, making livelong friendships, -feeling things, doing things, and seeing things which remain indelibly -engraved in his mind. Memories of Oxford have moved singers and poets to -ecstasies of emotional utterance, inspired great writers with beautiful -thoughts, and have been the one ray of comforting light in dark and -miserable lives. Is there, or has there ever been, a man who, having -known the protection of the old city's walls, and explored the tree-shaded -meanderings of the limpid Cher, having rioted after an athletic triumph -and burnt the midnight oil with an intimate friend, having been, in short, -a full-blooded Undergraduate, has gone down without any love for _Alma -mater_ in his heart, who has felt no thrill in after years when looking -back upon his Oxford years? Surely such a creature was never born. -Oxford's charm is, essentially, not for the few. It strikes the heart of -every one of her countless sons. Year follows year, and century, century, -and the stream of men flows unceasingly in and out of the city's gates. -Does Oxford change, however? Another wrinkle on her face may betray the -lapse of many decades, but her beauty remains. She is still the same. - - "Still on her spire the pigeons hover; - Still by her gateway haunts the gown; - Ah, but her secret? you, young lover, - Drumming her old ones, forth from town, - Know you the secret none discover? - Tell it when you go down. - - "Yet if at length you seek her, prove her, - Lean to her whispers never so nigh; - Yet if at last not less her lover - You in your hansom leave the High; - Down from her towers a ray shall hover-- - Touch you, a passer by."[31] - - -PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[2] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[3] "Random Records," by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[4] "Random Records," by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[5] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[6] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[7] "Oxford Studies," by J. R. Green (Macmillan & Co). - -[8] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[9] _Ibid._ - -[10] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[11] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[12] "Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth" (London 1820). - -[13] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[14] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[15] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[16] "Reminiscences of a Literary Life," by T. F. Dibdin, London, 1836. - -[17] "Recollections of Particulars in Life of late Mr William Shenstone," -by the Rev. Richard Graves. - -[18] Terrae Filius. - -[19] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[20] "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon" (London, 1796). - -[21] "Essays Moral and Literary," by Vicesimus Knox. - -[22] "Oxford Studies," by J.R. Green (Messrs Macmillan & Co.). - -[23] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[24] "Life of William, Earl of Shelburne," by Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice -(London, 1895). - -[25] "University Education," by Dr Newton (London, 1726). - -[26] "Boswell's Life of Johnson." - -[27] "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon" (London, 1796). - -[28] "Reminiscences of a Literary Life," by T. F. Dibdin. - -[29] "Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth" (London, 1820). - -[30] To which he transferred from Magdalen Hall. - -[31] A. C. Quiller-Couch. - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - -Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. - -The original text includes Greek characters that have been replaced with -transliterations in this text version. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. 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Hamilton Gibbs - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Rowlandson's Oxford - -Author: A. Hamilton Gibbs - -Illustrator: Thomas Rowlandson - -Release Date: June 16, 2013 [EBook #42960] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive.) - - - - - - - - - -ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - - -[Illustration: FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH.] - - - - - ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - BY A. HAMILTON GIBBS - (ST JOHN'S COLLEGE) - - - LONDON - KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. LTD. - 1911 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - CHAPTER I THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools-- - Manhood--Lonely freshers--The "pi" man--The newcomer's - metamorphosis--The Lownger's day--Regrets at being down 1-8 - - CHAPTER II THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and "easy pads"--Farewell to - parents--A forlorn animal--Terrae Filius's advice--Much - prayers--"Hell has no fury like a woman scorned"--The - disadvantages of a conscience 9-17 - - CHAPTER III THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker-- - Colman and the Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford - manner--_Homunculi Togati_--Academia and a mother's - love--The jovial father--Underground dog-holes and - shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night 18-28 - - CHAPTER IV THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne's coffee-house and the _billet doux_-- - Tick--Liquor capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_-- - Latin odes for tradesmen only 29-38 - - CHAPTER V THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven-- - The President under her thumb--Amhurst's table of cons.-- - King Charles and the other place 39-45 - - CHAPTER VI THE SERVITOR - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors 46-54 - - CHAPTER VII SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper's--Southey at Balliol--Cox's six-oared - crew--The river-side barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes - against games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses - and badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights-- - Paniotti's Fencing Academy--Old-time "bug-shooters"-- - Skating in Christ Church meadows--Cricket and the - Bullingdon Club--Walking tours 55-68 - - CHAPTER VIII CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the "Lunatics"--The - Constitution Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and - minutes--High Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers 69-82 - - CHAPTER IX WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen-- - The "Vindication"--Opposing and responding--"Schemes"-- - Doing austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents-- - Magdalen collections 83-94 - - CHAPTER X 'VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson's _Oxford Journal_-- - Domestic intelligence--Election poems--Curious - advertisements--Superabundance of St John's editors-- - Terrae Filius 95-108 - - CHAPTER XI 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Student_--Cambridge included--Its design--The female - student--Poem by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury's - letter--The manly woman 109-121 - - CHAPTER XII 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to - the _Cozeners_, written by Garrick--Visions, fables, and - moral tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789 122-135 - - CHAPTER XIII 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet_--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford_-- - _The Oxford Act_--_The Oxford Sausage_--Present and latter - day literature summed up 136-141 - - CHAPTER XIV THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student's_ opinion of one--A tradesman's poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties-- - Tradesmen's taste in literature--Advertising and _The - Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, innkeeper--Amhurst's - confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts 142-152 - - CHAPTER XV THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr - Newton on tutors' fees--Dr Johnson's recommendation of - Bateman--Public lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham - man's letter 153-162 - - CHAPTER XVI THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining-- - College Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the - Magdalen Dons--Heads of colleges--Their domestic and - public character--Golgotha and Ben Numps--St John's head - pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and Randolph 163-174 - - CHAPTER XVII THE DON--(continued) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of - a degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from - Black Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Isaac Walton and - the senior Proctor--Amhurst's character sketch of a - certain Proctor 175-183 - - CHAPTER XVIII CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards - and claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered - afterwards--Edward Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism - towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman Catholic--Subsequent - apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking orders--Germs of - ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism 184-198 - - CHAPTER XIX CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work-- - Oxford kills his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel - Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely freshman--Translates Pope's - _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from poverty--Dr Adam, his - tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of showing - off--His love of Pembroke 199-210 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH _Frontispiece_ - - VIEW OF ST MARY'S CHURCH AND RADCLIFFE LIBRARY _To face page_ 9 - - COLLEGE SERVICE " 15 - - A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE, ETC., AT OXFORD " 19 - - BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD " 30 - - MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE QUADRANGLE " 40 - - A 'VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN " 45 - - VIEW OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE " 53 - - NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON'S STUDY AT OXFORD " 59 - - A DUCK HUNT " 66 - - A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS' COLLEGE " 74 - - THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN " 92 - - OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING " 133 - - A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD " 160 - - MERTON COLLEGE " 177 - - STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH " 193 - - - - -FOREWORD - - -The task of writing a book on Oxford University is by no means an easy -one. If it be a novel there are countless pitfalls to entrap the -author--points small and inconsequent to the reader who cannot proudly -claim the City of Spires as his Alma Mater, but irritating beyond -description to the man who knows and loves Oxford. - -But if modern Oxford dealt with from the romantic and sentimental point of -view as the background of a story contains such a network of difficulties, -the Oxford of two hundred years ago, Rowlandson's Oxford, contains them -multiplied a hundred times, because it now becomes a question not of -reproducing the vivid pictures of the hour and moment, but of recreating -the atmosphere of a time that is silent in death. - -It is, therefore, with great diffidence that I have attempted to -resuscitate the life and moods of Oxford of the eighteenth century. Barely -two years have elapsed since the days when I looked out from my windows -into the quad of my college. All the work and play, the alarums and -excursions which go to form the life of the average Undergraduate have not -yet had time to fade into dim, half forgotten memories. Alma Mater still -grasps me in her warm hand. So vivid indeed are all the impressions which -I received from the friendly gargoyles and the peace-touched lawns, the -beautiful colleges with their silent cloisters, the full-blooded -twenty-firsters and bump-suppers, and the thousand and one everyday -happenings, that I might be merely awaiting the passing of vacation to go -up once more. - -With all the Undergraduate interests still so strongly at heart, I think -that it is natural that I should have studied the Rowlandson period with -the mind of the Undergraduate and have carried out my task from the -Undergraduate point of view. It is difficult to give any idea of the -quaintness, delight, and amusement caused by going back two hundred years -to a University so like and so unlike--like, in that the men, although so -different outwardly, had practically the same ideas as we have and carried -them out in the same colleges, even in the same rooms, in a precisely -similar manner; unlike in that the Dons were a breed of men differing in -every respect from those who look after us to-day. - -Working, then, on the hypothesis that Oxford men in Rowlandson's time were -identical with ourselves, I have drawn analogies between every step in the -lives of both. I have endeavoured to show that from the beginning of their -fresherdom, when they felt self-conscious, _gauche_, and timid, down to -the days when they took their degrees and knew Oxford blindfold in all her -moods and tenses, they possessed the same outlook, had the same -aspirations and ambitions, and were filled with the same admiration and -love of Alma Mater as the men of to-day. For instance, as a freshman the -Georgian Undergraduate curiously watched the seniors who were responsible -for the tone of their college. Gradually he sloughed both his nervousness -and his un-Oxford wardrobe and began to assert his own individuality. -Little by little he discovered new sides of Oxford life, new haunts in -which he began to feel at home. Daily he made new acquaintances who, as -time went by, ripened into friends. Eventually, by the end of his first -year, he had so absorbed Oxford into his personality that he in turn was -able to condescend to the next year's arrivals. During this time his -attitude towards the Dons, the statutes, the schools--to everything, in -short, outside the immediate Undergraduate side of life--varied with the -terms. At the beginning they were subjects only to be broached with awe -and deliberation. But the more he came into contact with an ever -increasing circle of friends, the sooner his respect changed into -ridicule, disgust, and finally, when a senior, into amused toleration. - -In precis form such was the development of the eighteenth-century -Undergraduate. His metamorphosis into a "blood," with all its amusing -accompaniments and accomplishments--the former consisting of the latest -fashions in clothes and the _entree_ to the innermost recesses of the -Maudlin Groves in the company of the most celebrated Oxford damsel; the -latter of a facility for dashing off a well thought out extempore series -of oaths, being the handiest man at a tea-table, drinking more than any -other buck of his acquaintance before finally succumbing, to follow in the -natural sequence of events according to the temperament of the freshman. -Had he a leaning towards becoming a "blood" not only was there nothing to -stop him, but, on the contrary, all the existing conditions were such as -to facilitate the execution of his desires. - -In all these phrases the old-time Undergraduate can be compared with his -modern brothers. In his dealings with the river-side barmaids, the local -tradesmen, and the proctors he pursued much the same ingenuous methods -which are used with equal success to-day. Just as we become members of -unlimited numbers of year clubs and settle the affairs of the entire human -species at the nightly meetings with ease and eloquence, they, too, formed -societies and took themselves with a similar seriousness. They contributed -literary morsels to the Undergraduate papers which satirised existing -institutions in the same youthful manner in which we satirise them. They -conducted "rags" with a thoroughness and disregard of results which ended -in the same speedy rustication of the ringleaders which inevitably -overtakes the men who are still unwise enough to be found out. - -In a word, my object has been not to compare the ethics of the university -to-day with those of yesterday, but rather to set forth an analogy between -Dons and Undergraduates of that period and this, and the business of their -daily life, from the point of view of one upon whom the influence of Alma -Mater has not yet been mellowed into an analytical remembrance by long -contact with the world which lies beyond her spires. - -Whether I have succeeded in proving my case remains to be seen. At least I -venture to hope that the results of my work may form a frame for -Rowlandson's pictures which are here reproduced for the first time from -Rowlandson's original water-colour drawings. - -Of these pictures many were engraved at the time in aquatint, but the -engraver was as a rule so obsessed with the Georgian ideas of the -beautiful in architecture that he practically reconstructed the majority -of the buildings represented, in accordance with that idea, so that some -of the most beautiful and characteristic buildings in Oxford and -Cambridge, so delicately portrayed by Rowlandson's pencil, are turned into -rectangular monstrosities, the like of which was never seen in either -university town. - -The superiority of hand-engraving over modern processes is evident enough, -when the engraving itself was made by the artist; but when the original -drawing is so hopelessly misrepresented as is the case with many of the -aquatints of Rowlandson's drawings, the modern facsimile processes have -their obvious advantages. - -It is therefore claimed that Rowlandson's drawings of Oxford are here -reproduced for the first time, and it is believed that they will be a -revelation to many who have hitherto looked upon Rowlandson merely as a -somewhat gross caricaturist. The caricaturist, it is true, is still here -depicting in the foregrounds characteristic scenes in the university life -of the time, but here is also another Rowlandson with an appreciation of -the beauties of Oxford rare indeed in his age, and one who is able to -delineate them with accuracy and delicacy which have seldom been equalled -in the portrayal of such subjects. - -The author desires to express his gratitude to the Rev. Christopher -Wordsworth for having very kindly granted him permission to make -quotations from "Social Life in the English Universities"; and to Messrs -Macmillan & Co., publishers of J. R. Green's "Oxford Studies," for -allowing him to make two quotations from that book; and also to Mr R. S. -Rait of the Oxford Historical Society for having permitted him to quote -from Miss L. Quiller-Couch's "Reminiscences of Oxford," published by that -society. - - - - -ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools--Manhood--Lonely - freshers--The "pi" man--The newcomer's metamorphosis--The Lownger's - day--Regrets at being down. - - -How few of us there are to-day who ever devote even the slack hour between -tea and "hotters" and Hall to finding out something at least about the -Undergraduates who had our rooms two centuries ago. Yet to every man the -word Oxford conjures up vast vague shadows from the past which make him as -a freshman tread softly and with reverence through the quads and gardens, -High Streets and by-streets of the City of Spires. Great names rise up -into our minds and fill us with wonder, but the scout knocks at our door -with half-cold food and our dreams dissolve into irritated reality. There -may come a moment, perhaps, when, with feet at rest upon the mantel-shelf -and a straight-grained pipe bubbling in quiet response between our teeth, -we are deafening our ears to the call of bed, the slow-flowing -conversation drifts by chance to a casual query as to what our -predecessors did at the same hour two hundred years ago. Beyond a few more -or less unimaginative surmises we remain in ignorance, blissful and -uncaring, believing them to be strange-clothed beings of stilted language -and curious habits, and at once the talk turns to present and more -pleasant topics. We little think that to all intents and purposes we are -almost exactly the same as our old-time-brethren. - -To-day we row, play cricket, football, tennis, golf; we cut our lectures -when we safely can and "binge" at every opportunity. Schools do occupy us, -it is true, but as a mere secondary item in the university scheme of -things--and rightly so. A degree, however good, does not, by itself, make -men of us and teach us how to live. It is the social life of the -university which is the real education and which sends us out into the -world ready to face anything and everything. By developing our bodies we -develop our minds, and in this programme of athletics and sociability we -are a replica of our eighteenth-century brethren. They rose about nine, -breakfasted at ten, and dallied away the morning with a flute or the -latest French comedy. By way of strenuous exercise, necessitated by a -climate which was just as evil then as now, they walked, rode, rowed, or -skated, and in the evening figured at the Mitre or Tuns where they made -merry into the small hours with beer, claret, or punch. - -To them schools were much less a source of worry than they are to us, for, -beyond attending occasional disputations and an odd lecture or so, when a -Don could be persuaded to give one, they obtained their degree by the -simple but expensive process of drinking the examiner--usually a hardened -toper--under the table overnight. He was then led, in the morning, while -still pleasantly fuddled, to the schools, and there, in consideration of a -respectable douceur, he signed away the necessary papers with a beaming -and self-satisfied smile. They knew nothing of the humours of white ties, -dark suits, and a week's terrible strain to get a First in Honour -Mods--before the Finals are even thought of. The shivering crowds waiting -in the Hall to be led to the slaughter did not exist in those days. A -Trinity man named Skinner, who matriculated in 1790, flung himself at the -subject in satirical verse:-- - - "Enter we next the Public Schools - Where now a death-like stillness rules; - Yet these still walls in days of yore - Back to the streets returned the roar of hundreds.... - But since their champion Aristotle - Has been deserted for the bottle - The benches stand like Prebends' stalls - Lone and deserted 'gainst the walls."[1] - -No sooner have we finished with our public school days, when we are known -as boys, and have either scrambled over the "Smalls" hedge with some -humility and relief, or else have secured the privilege of lording it in a -scholar's gown, than we instantly become men. We may be anything between -eighteen and twenty, but if a sister, brother, or cousin be unwary enough -to refer to us as a boy--woe unto him or her! We may pretend that we do -not mind, but in our heart of hearts we rejoice in being Oxford "men," and -guard our title jealously. We are not, however, unique in this. It is a -habit which has come down to us from the eighteenth century when they were -just as jealous of such points of etiquette. - -George Colman the younger tells us that he came upon two freshmen of that -time who had had a quarrel. Six months before they blacked each other's -eyes at Westminster in the good old British way. Now, however, being -Oxford men, they could not descend to such a childish level, but agreed to -afford each other "gentlemanly satisfaction." They may have lacked a -certain sense of humour, but it was the right spirit, and it is safe to -conclude that they both did well at their respective colleges. - -The lonely freshman of to-day who has no friends already in residence -wanders round just as nervously and makes the same _faux pas_ as did his -predecessors. It takes him just as long to find his feet and settle down -and make friends. Exactly in the same way also if he knows men already up -he is welcomed by them, invited to heavy breakfasts and put right on -matters of etiquette: such as never by any chance to wear square and gown -unless absolutely compelled to--and all the other minutiae which are of -such importance. In the eighteenth century a freshman was taken by his -senior friends to the Mitre and sat in front of a bowl of punch with brown -toast bobbing in it. He heard sonnets recited to the eyelashes of Sylvia. -He was taught to drink on his knees to Phyllis or Chloe, or some other -fair female of the moment. He was taken to the barber's and shown how to -wear a wig instead of his own hair. In fact, his feet were set in the -proper path then in just the same friendly spirit as now. - -They had their clubs and societies at which, in the intervals of drinking, -they indicted Latin poems or discussed some important political question -where we, over mulled claret and other comestibles, read papers on "The -Abolition of the Halfpenny Press," or "The Glories of Tariff Reform." They -had big dinners, and tried to find their way home in the small hours. We -have our fresher's wines and bump suppers in which the whole college -participates with the sole object of enjoying good wine and destroying -good furniture, and we crawl home, if we are outside college, through the -same streets. To-day we have the "pi" man who sternly refuses to -countenance such evil things as fresher's wines; who has signed the pledge -and eschews tobacco. If he is compelled by an outraged band of senior men -to lend his presence against his better judgment, and is led out from a -room in a state of Dore-like chaos, he becomes uproarious on a glass of -water and two bananas, and writes home to his mother that his bill for -repairs is enormous owing to his bravery in being a martyr to his -principles, and that drunkenness is on the increase among the -Undergraduates. All the same he thoroughly enjoys himself, and in time -wears off rough corners and learns how to keep his vows without any -objectionable fanfare. At the end of the eighteenth century a man of this -kidney named Crosse wrote to his mother: "Oxford is a perfect hell upon -earth. What chance is there for an unfortunate lad just come from school -with no one to watch and care for him--no guide? I often saw my tutor -carried off perfectly intoxicated." I can see the man crouching in a dark -corner of the quad appalled at the sight of his fellows dancing round a -bonfire, while his tutor rushes by on the arms of a festive crowd in full -rejoicing at some college triumph. It would be interesting to ascertain -Crosse's views at the end of his university career. He remained, however, -in the obscurity of mediocrity. - -Our trousseau when we first appear at the university consists of modest -socks and humble waistcoats, and ties which make no claim to originality -or even to smartness. They are content to be merely useful and to fulfil -their appointed functions. But does not every parent learn subsequently, -with dreadful results to his peace of mind, how after our first month we -make our way unerringly to the tailors and clothiers, and there with -deadly earnestness absorb colour schemes which cry a loud challenge to -Joseph's coat? Our waistcoats are dreams,--sometimes nightmares; the -blending of harmony between shirt, tie, and socks is as perfect as the -rainbow. Our hair, which used to be parted carelessly down one side, now -disdains partings and goes straight back in one beautiful Magdalen sweep. -Our trousers are thrown at the scout's head as a gift unless they be of -unparalleled width and of exceptional crease. - -This tendency to burst forth into strange and variegated garments in token -of our emancipation from apron strings was just as strong in the old days. -The sons of country farmers came trooping into Oxford, their clouted shoes -thick with good red earth, in linsey wolsey coats, with greasy, uncombed -heads of hair flapping in the wind. Their stockings were of coarse yarn, -and they knew nothing better than to have long muslin neckcloths run with -red at the ends. But they soon realised the contempt in which they were -held for this dull chrysalis-like appearance. After a few weeks these -shamefaced clodhoppers sneaked into the side door of the barbers' shops to -emerge proudly by the front entrance in a bob wig. Their clouted shoes -were relegated to young brothers, and they wore new ones--Oxford cut. -Their yarn stockings gave place to worsted, until, after a very short -interval between their arrival and their settling down, they blushed out -like butterflies in tye wigs and ruffles and silk gowns. The "blood" of -that period, or, as the term then was, the "smart," or the "buck of the -first head," was distinguished when he aired his person, Amhurst told us, -"by a stiff silk gown which rustles in the wind as he struts along; a -flaxen tye wig, or sometimes a long natural one which reaches down below -his rump; a broad bully cock'd hat, or a square cap of above twice the -usual size; white stockings, thin Spanish leather shoes; his cloaths lined -with tawdry silk, and his shirt ruffled down the bosom as well as at the -wrists. Besides all which marks, he has a delicate jaunt in his gait, and -smells philosophically of essence." - -How his direct descendant, the Bullingdon man, must envy him his -magnificent opportunities of making a brave show! Not for him the silk -gown, the bully cocked hat. The best he can do in imitation is the amazing -dinner jacket which he sometimes sports at the theatre, under which one -finds not the accepted form of dress shirt but a peculiar form of -abortion which is neatly ruffled at "bosom and wrists." In place of the -Spanish leather shoes the last word to-day is apparently buckskin. The -"delicate jaunt in the gait" has been retained--the result being caused -now by a union of "Eton slouch" and "Oxford manner." The head still smells -of essence--honey and flowers at Hatt's, brilliantine at Martyr's. These -great-minded people think alike not only in point of dress but of the -manner of killing time. "The Lownger" summed up the process as carried out -in the eighteenth century-- - - "I rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten, - Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen, - Read a play till eleven or cock my lac'd hat, - Then step to my neighbour's, till dinner to chat. - Dinner over to Tom's or to James's I go, - The news of the town so impatient to know, - While Low, Locke and Newton and all the rum race - That talk of their Modes, their ellipses and space, - The Seat of the Soul and new Systems on high, - In Halls as abstruse as their mysteries lie. - From the coffee-house then I to Tennis away, - And at five I post back to my College to pray, - I sup before eight and secure from all duns, - Undauntedly march to the Mitre or Tuns, - Where in Punch or good Claret my sorrows I drown, - And toss off a bowl to the best in the town. - At one in the morning I call what's to pay? - Then home to my College I stagger away. - Thus I tope all the night as I trifle all day." - -Every one knows the various processes of slacking at the present time, so -that there is no need for detail. But in essence the method is the same, -and the result also. Our lunches at the Cherwell Hotel, at the riverside -inns at Iffley and Abingdon; our "Grinds"; our slacking on the river in -summer term--all these were done two centuries ago, and, just as some of -the more energetic of us seek to immortalise these doings by contributing -poems and articles to the 'varsity papers, so did the Undergraduates then -send their sonnets and Latin verses to _The Student_, the _Oxford -Magazine_, and Jackson's _Oxford Journal_. In place of the musical comedy -lady, whose silvery laughter floats down wind to-day, the Oxford toast -flaunted it right merrily in the old days. The gownsmen's tobacco accounts -then amounted to quite as much as ours do, and they wrote home for further -supplies of pocket money in almost the identical terms which we use -to-day. Yesterday's and to-day's Oxford men are one and the same. Oxford -herself and her Dons are changed, but the Undergraduate goes on doing and -thinking the same things in the same way, and when he goes down now he -feels very much as felt the eighteenth-century poet who, also down, -sang:-- - - "Could Ovid, deathless bard, forbear, - Confin'd by Scythia's frozen plains, - Cease to desire his native air - In softest elegiac strains? - Cursed with the town no more can I - For Oxford's meadow cease to sigh.... - Can I, while mem'ry lasts, forget - Oxford, thy silver rolling stream, - Thy silent walks and cool retreat - Where first I sucked the love of fame? - E'en now the thought inspires my breast - And lulls my troubled soul to rest." - -[Illustration: VIEW OF ST. MARY'S CHURCH & RADCLIFFE LIBRARY.] - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and "easy pads"--Farewell to parents--A - forlorn animal--Terrae Filius's advice--Much prayers--"Hell has no - fury like a woman scorned"--The disadvantages of a conscience. - - -The beginning of our university career is marked, unless we be Stoics, by -mixed feelings of elation and a sinking at the pit of the stomach which we -afterwards learn to recognise as "needle." The train journey may have -seemed long, but at this first breathless moment when the porter receives -our goods and chattels into his arms from the top of the moribund hansom, -we could almost wish that we were back in the train again. A sense of -isolation, and of having to stand or fall by ourselves, sweeps over like a -tidal wave, leaving us momentarily chilled and nervous. - -How different was the fresher's arrival in the eighteenth century. He -boarded a coach in the early morning in London. His baggage was placed in -the boot, and the traveller, armed to the teeth with blunderbuss and -pistols, took his seat. With a clattering of hoofs, yelling of ostlers and -merry tooting on the horn, the coach dashed out of the yard and wound -merrily along throughout the day by field, village, and town. If the -journey were a lucky one, the travellers arrived at Oxford without let or -hindrance about six o'clock in the evening, when they were able to catch a -first glimpse of the top of Radcliffe's Library. They then jolted in over -Magdalen Bridge--in those days the new bridge--and so made their way to -their respective colleges. - -Wrapped up in thick coats and with ice-cold feet tapping the side of the -coach to restore circulation, the excited fresher had ample time for -cogitation. The lets and hindrances, over and above the ordinary accidents -to horse or vehicle, such as casting a shoe or breaking a strap, were -little excitements in the form of footpads and highwayman, who infested -the district on the look-out for a fat and likely college bursar laden -with fat and likely money-bags. At the first hint of the approach of one -of these gentlemen of the road, blunderbusses were whipped out and fired -in all directions, while the horses were lashed and the coach leaned and -rocked and swayed in its efforts to get away. Afterwards, ensconced behind -a tankard in the Tuns among his somewhat condescending senior friends, the -newcomer warmed up under the influence of hot toddy and genial society, -and described the awful onslaught made upon them by at least fifty mounted -desperadoes. - -Did he come from nearer places than London, then he made his entrance on a -sedate horse, in the fashion of the gentleman-commoner who sent the -following account to Terrae Filius:-- - - "Being of age to play the fool - With muckle glee I left our school - At Hoxton, - And mounted on an easy pad - Rode with my mother and my dad - To Oxon." - -This merry bard was not exempt from the pangs of loneliness. He, too, felt -the wave of depression when his mother and dad kissed him and slowly -disappeared down the street again on their easy pads. For, after an -amusing description of purchasing gown and square, he burst into tears. - - "I sallied forth to deck my back - With loads of Tuft and black - Prunello. - My back equipt, it was not fair - My head should 'scape, and so as square - As chessboard - A cap I bought, my scull to screen, - Of cloth without and all within - Of pasteboard - When metamorphos'd in attire - More like a parson than a squire - th' had dressed me - I took my leave with many a tear - Of John our man, and parents dear - Who blessed me...."[2] - -and there he was, poor lad, probably no more than fifteen years old--of -age to play the fool--left, lachrymose and solitary, to fight his own -battles and win his M.A. spurs before coming to grips with the world. - -George Colman the younger, who matriculated at the House in 1780, and who -would most certainly have been instantly elected to the Bullingdon Club -had he gone up to-day, wrote most feelingly on the question of the lonely -fresher. "A Freshman, as a young academician is call'd on his admission at -Oxford," he said "is a forlorn animal. It is awkward for an old stager in -life to be thrown into a large company of strangers, to make his way among -them, as he can--but to the poor freshman everything is strange--not only -College society, but any society at all--and he is solitary in the midst -of a crowd. If, indeed, he should happen to come to the University -(particularly to Christ Church) from one of the great publick schools, he -finds some of his late school fellows, who, being in the same straggling -situation with himself, abridge the period of his fireside loneliness, -and of their own, by forming a familiar intercourse--otherwise he may mope -for many a week; at all events, it is generally some time before he -establishes himself in a set of acquaintance."[3] - -To-day when we have conquered Smalls and our rooms have been assigned in -college or in the house of some licensed landlady, it is customary for our -"parents dear" to lead us gently by the buttonhole into the study, and -there, with their coat tails spread wide to the blazing logs, to hold -forth in rounded periods what is termed sound advice. When it is over they -shake hands with us, both of us swallowing absurdly, and we go forth -better friends than ever. In the first number of any one of the 'varsity -"rags" for the new academic year it is safe to conclude that the "leader" -will be a word of explanation, advice, friendship, or welcome to the -newcomer. It is always facetious and invariably has a gentle dig at the -fresher's expense, though the writer, once a fresher himself, should know -better. The following is a specimen of how these things were done in the -old days:-- - - "_Wednesday, May 1, 1721._ - - "To all gentlemen School-Boys, in his majesty's dominions, who are - design'd for the University of Oxford, Terrae Filius sends greetings; - - "MY LADS,--I am so well acquainted with the variety and malapertness - of you sparks, as soon as you get out of your schoolmaster's hands, - that I know I shall be called a fusty old fellow, and a thousand - ridiculous names besides, for presuming to give advice, which I would - not, say you, take, if I was a young fellow myself. But being a very - public-spirited person, and a great well wisher to my fellow subjects - (whatever you may think of me) I am resolved, whether you mind what I - am going to say, or not, to lay you down some rules and precautions - for your conduct in the university, on the strict observation or - neglect of which your future good or ill fortune will depend; and, I - am sure that you will thank me, six or seven years hence, for this - piece of service, however troublesome and impertinent you may think it - now.... - - "I observe, in the first place, that you no sooner shake off the - authority of the birch, but you affect to distinguish yourselves from - your dirty school-fellows by a new suit of drugget, a pair of prim - ruffles, a new bob wig, and a brazen-hilted sword; in which tawdry - manner you strut about town for a week or two before you go to - College, giving your selves airs in coffee-houses and booksellers' - shops, and intruding your selves into the company of us men; from all - which, I suppose you think your selves your own master, no more - subject to controul or confinement--alas! fatal mistake! soon will you - confess that the tyrrany of a school is nothing to the tyrrany of a - college; nor the grammar-pedant to the academical one; for, what - signifies a smarting back-side to a bullied conscience? What was Busby - in comparison to D-e-l-ne? - - "And now, young gentlemen, give me leave to put on my magisterial - face, and to instruct you how you are to demean yourselves in the - station you are entered into, and what sort of behaviour is expected - from you, according to the oaths and these subscriptions. - - "I know very well that you go thither prepossessed with a sanguine - (but ignorant) opinion, that you are to hold fast your principles, - whatever they are; that you are to follow, what in your conscience you - think right, and to desclaim what you think wrong, that this is the - only way to thrive in the world, and to be happy in the next, just as - your silly mothers and superstitious old nurses have taught you: in - the first place, therefore, I advise you to disengage your selves from - all such scrupulous notions; for you may take my word for it, that - otherwise it is a million to one that you miscarry. - - "For, it is a maxim as true as it is common, so many men, so many - minds: but amongst all the different opinions of mankind there is - never, at any one time, but one of those opinions which is call'd - orthodox; if, therefore, you give your fancy the reins and let your - own judgment determine your opinions, what infinite odds is it, - whether you happen to hit upon that single, individual opinion, which - is, at that particular crisis of time, in vogue, and which is - therefore your interest to espouse? But if with all your diligence and - sincerity, you should miss this _rara avis_, this happy phoenix - opinion, then farewell to all your future prospects, to your ease, - your reputation and good name for ever afterwards; I mean, if you are - so weak, and so much bigotted with education, as to think it your duty - to profess what you cannot help believing. - - "Your only safe way therefore is to carry along with you consciences - _chartes blanches_, ready to receive any impression that you please to - stamp upon them; for I would not have you adopt any particular system, - however popular and prevailing it may seem to be at present, because - it may alter, and then will prove fatal to you; for as much as they - talk of steadiness and immutability of principles at Oxford, every - body knows that Popery was for many ages the orthodox religion there; - that protestantism (with much difficulty, and sorely against their - wills) succeeded it; that, not long ago, they were almost all Whigs, - and now almost all Tories, and for ought we know, will e're long be - Whigs again--never therefore explain your opinion but let your - declarations be, that you are churchmen, and that you believe as the - church believes.... - -[Illustration: COLLEGE SERVICE.] - - "I will only advise you to suppress, as much as possible, that busy - spirit of curiosity, which too often fatally exerts itself in youthful - breasts; but if (notwithstanding all your non-inquisitiveness), the - strong beams of truth will break upon your minds, let them shine - inwardly; disturb not the publick peace with your private discoveries - and illuminations; so, if you have any concern for your welfare and - prosperity, let Aristotle be your guide in philosophy, and Athanasius - in religion.... - - "To call yourself a Whig at Oxford, or to act like one, or to lie - under the suspicion of being one, is the same as to be attainted and - outlaw'd; you will be discouraged and brow beaten in your own college - and disqualified for preferment in any other; your company will be - avoided, and your character abused; you will certainly lose your - degree and at last, perhaps, upon some pretence or other, be - expelled.... - - "Leave no stone unturned to insinuate yourselves into the favour of - the Head, and senior-fellows of your respective colleges.... - - "Whenever you appear before them, conduct yourselves with all specious - humility and demureness; convince them of the great veneration you - have for their persons by speaking very low and bowing to the ground - at every word: whenever you meet them jump out of the way with your - caps in your hands and give them the whole street to walk in, let it - be as broad as it will. Always seem afraid to look them in the face, - and make them believe that their presence strikes you with a sort of - awe and confusion; but above all be very constant at chapel; never - think that you lose too much time at prayers, or that you neglect your - studies too much, whilst you are showing your respect to the church. I - have heard indeed that a former president of St John's College (a - whimsical, irreligious old fellow) would frequently jobe his students - for going constantly three or four times a day to chapel, and - lingering away their time, and robbing their parents, under a pretence - of serving God. But as this is the only instance I ever met with of - such an Head, it cannot overthrow a general rule.... Another thing - very popular in order to grow the favourites of your Heads, is first - of all to make your selves the favourites of their footmen, concerning - whose dignity and grandeur I have spoken in a former paper. You must - have often heard, my lads, of the old proverb, "Love me, and love my - Dog"; which is not very foreign in this case; for if you expect any - favour from the master, you must shew great respect to his servant. - - "Have a particular regard how you speak of those gaudy things which - flutter about Oxford in prodigious numbers, in summer-time, call'd - toasts; take care how you reflect on their parentage, their condition, - their virtue, or their beauty; ever remembering that of the poet, - - 'Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,' - - especially when they have spiritual bravoes on their side and old - lecherous bully-backs to revenge their cause on every audacious - contemner of Venus and her altars.... - - "I have but one thing more to mention to you, which is, not to give - into that foolish practice, so common at this time in the university, - of running upon tick, as it is called.... How many hopeful young men - have been ruin'd in this manner, cut short in the midst of their - philosophical enquiries, and for ever afterwards render'd unable to - pursue their studies again with a chearful heart, and without - interruption?... - - "My whole advice, in a few words, is this:-- - - "Let your own interest, abstracted from any whimsical notions of - conscience, honour, honesty or justice, be your guide; consult always - the present humour of the place and comply with it; make yourselves - popular and beloved at any rate; rant, roar, rail, drink, wh--re, - swear, unswear, forswear; do anything, do everything that you find - obliging; do nothing that is otherwise; nor let any considerations of - right and wrong flatter you out of those courses, which you find most - for your advantage. I have only to add, that if you follow this - advice, you will spend your days there not only in peace and plenty, - but with applause and reputation; if you have any secret good - qualities they will be pointed out in the most glaring light, and - aggravated in the most exquisite manner; if you have ever so many ugly - ones, they will be either palliated or jesuitically interpreted into - good ones. Whereas, on the contrary, if you despice and reject these - wholesome admonitions, violence, disrest, and an ill name will be the - rewards of your folly and obstinacy; it will avail you nothing, that - you have enrich'd your minds with all sorts of useful and commendable - knowledge; and that, as to vulgar morality, you have preserved an - unspotted character before men; these things will rather exasperate - the holy men against you, and excite all their cunning and artifice - for your destruction; the least frailties, humanity is prone to, will - be magnify'd into the grossest of all wickedness; and the best - actions, our nature is capable of, will be debased and vilified away. - And now do even as it shall seem good unto you. Farewell. - - TERRAE FILIUS." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker--Colman and the - Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford manner--Homunculi - Togati--Academia and a mother's love--The jovial father--Underground - dog-holes and shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night. - - -The advice tendered to freshmen in Amhurst's amazing and bitterly -satirical letter is for those who have been matriculated. They must, -therefore, fulfil all the rites of matriculation before they can read, -mark, learn, and inwardly digest it. As the process was vastly different -in Georgian times, it is interesting to read the varying accounts of -eighteenth-century freshmen. The gentleman who, "being of age to play the -fool," came up with his parents from Hoxton, has written a somewhat -indiscreet but all the more laughable description of the ceremony. - - "The master took me first aside, - Shew'd me a scrawl, I read, and cry'd - Do Fidem. - Gravely he shook me by the fist, - And wish'd me well--we next request - a tutor. - He recommends a staunch one, who - In Perkin's cause has been his co- - adjutor - To see this precious stick of wood, - I went (for so they deem'd it good) - in fear, Sir. - And found him swallowing loyally - Six deep his bumpers which to me - seem'd queer, Sir. - He bade me sit and take my glass, - I answered, looking like an ass, - I, I can't, Sir. - Not drink!--you don't come here to pray! - The merry mortal said by way - of answer. - To pray, Sir! No--my lad, 'tis well, - Come! here's our friend Sacheverell! - here's Trappy! - Here's Ormond! Marr! in short so many - Traitors we drank, it made my Cranium nappy...." - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE &C. &C. AT OXFORD.] - -The lad then went out into the town with this same "sociable priest," -bought his gown, and parted from his parents, and then-- - - "The master said they might believe him, - So righteously (the Lord forgive him!) - he'd govern - He'd show me the extremest love, - Provided that I did not prove - too stubborn. - So far, so good--but now fresh fees - Began (for so the custom is) - Fresh fees!--with drink they knock you down, - You spoil your clothes; and your new gown - you spue in...." - -He then retired for the night, and was awakened at six o'clock next -morning by a "scoundrel" of a servitor. He rose and went to chapel, very -sick and still half drunk. Later in the day, when he had recovered -sufficiently, he went with his tutor to Broad Street, where-- - - "Built in the form of Pidgeon-pye, - A house there is for rooks to lie - and roost in. - Thither to take the oaths I went, - My tutor's conscience well content - to trust in. - Their laws, their articles of grace - Forty, I think (save half a brace), - was willing - To swear to; swore, engag'd my soul, - And paid the swearing-broker whole - ten shilling. - Full half a pound I paid him down, - To live in the most p----d town, - o' th' nation." - -It must not be understood, however, that such orgies characterised the -ceremony of matriculation. This writer of fluent doggerel was a gentleman -commoner, but he seems to have caught at every lax point that he -personally observed as a target for his wit. The more sober matriculation, -both literally and figuratively, of George Colman the younger can be most -suitably placed in the other side of the scale. "On my entrance at -Oxford," he wrote, "as a member of Christ Church, I was too foppish a -follower of the prevailing fashions to be a reverential observer of -academical dress--in truth, I was an egregious little puppy--and I was -presented to the Vice-Chancellor, to be matriculated, in a grass-green -coat, with the furiously-bepowder'd pate of an ultra-coxcomb; both of -which are proscribed by the Statutes of the University. Much courtesy is -shown, in the ceremony of matriculation, to the boys who come from Eton -and Westminster; insomuch that they are never examined in respect to their -knowledge of the School Classicks--their competency is considered as a -matter of course--but, in subscribing the articles of their matriculation -oaths, they sign their _praenomen_ in Latin; I wrote, therefore, -_Georgeius_--thus, alas! inserting a redundant E--and, after a pause, said -enquiringly to the Vice-Chancellor--looking up in his face with perfect -_naivete_--'pray, sir, am I to add Colmanus?' - -"My Terentian father, who stood at my right elbow, blush'd at my -ignorance--the Tutor (a piece of sham marble) did not blush at all--but -gave a Sardonick grin, as if _Scagliola_ had moved a muscle! - -"The good-natur'd Vice drollingly answer'd me--that the surnames of -certain _profound authors_, whose comparatively modern works were extant, -had been latinized; but that a Roman termination tack'd to the patronymick -of an English gentleman of my age and appearance, would rather be a -redundant formality. There was too much delicacy in the worthy Doctor's -satire for my green comprehension--and I walk'd back, unconscious of it, -to my College--strutting along in the pride of my unstatutable curls and -coat, and practically breaking my oath, the moment I had taken it." - -From both their accounts, differing so widely from each other, it would -seem that the ceremony of matriculation, which to-day is conducted with an -almost ecclesiastical solemnity, was in those days simply a matter of -form, a tedious business which the Vice-Chancellor hurried through with -all speed. One man performed his part in a condition of semi-intoxication -without an inkling of the meaning of the oaths to which he subscribed, -while another was presented to the Vice-Chancellor in clothes more -suitable to a fancy dress ball than to his formal admittance to the -university. Neither man drew upon himself the reprimand which to-day would -immediately be levelled at him. - -In becoming a member of the university, therefore, the eighteenth-century -freshman received his first experience of the complete inanition and -futility of the Don world. Apparently he suffered no apprehension on the -score of not conducting himself with fitting politeness when in the -presence of the authorities. Their opinion of him gave him no concern. He -was far more anxious not to contravene the unwritten laws of the -Undergraduate world. Once the tiresome but necessary matriculation became -a thing of the past, he began to look about him, anxiously at first from -the desire to avoid grievous blunders which would make him a -laughing-stock. All initiative was far too dangerous when the lynx eyes of -the entire college were upon him. Actuated by the firm belief that at -least he could not be criticised for politeness and good-breeding, the -timid freshman endeavoured to ingratiate himself in the eyes of all by -doffing his cap with humble frequence. From "Academia, or the Humours of -Oxford," the following bitter excerpt on the question of the freshman's -manners is vastly entertaining. - - "Now being arrived at his College, - The place of learning and of knowledge, - A while he'll leer about, and snivel ye, - And doff his Hat to all most civilly, - Being told at home that a shame face too, - Was a great sign that he had some Grace too, - He'll speak to none, alas! for he's - Amased at every Man he sees: - May-hap this lasts a Week, or two, - Till some Scab laugh's him on't, so - That when most you'd expect his mending, - His Breeding's ended, and not ending - Now he dares walk abroad, and dare ye, - Hat on, in peoples' Faces stare ye; - Thinks what a Fool he was before, to - Pull off his Hat, which he'd no more do; - But that the devil shites Disasters, - So that he's forc'd to cap the Masters, ... - He must cap them; but for all other, - Tho' 'twere his Father, or his Mother, - His Gran'num, Uncle, Aunt, or Cousin, - He wo' not give one Cap to a dozen." - -What wonders may be worked in a week or two! From almost servile -politeness he went to the extreme of discourtesy with the assurance of a -second-year man. - -Imitation is, however, the essence of life. Because certain things are -done, all men are compelled to do them unless they wish to incur social -ostracism. We are like sheep and must follow our leaders with docility and -readiness. If we decline to bow the neck to convention, and declare for -originality and freedom, society turns and rends us. At Oxford the -punishment for such a crime as originality is swift. A horde of outraged -seniors descends like an avalanche upon the sinner's rooms. They visit -their wrath not only upon his belongings but upon his person, and -eventually they leave him in a condition of mental and physical chaos, to -realise the utter futility of kicking against the pricks. - -In the eighteenth century the same social creed was practised. For any -transgression from the commonplace the chastisement of the culprit was -inevitable. The freshman undoubtedly realised the truth of this, however -vaguely, and conducted himself according to the rules laid down by his -seniors. His excessive good manners lasted only until the moment when it -was born in upon him that rudeness was the policy of his leaders. - -But though he might be no more than a scant fifteen years of age, as soon -as he wiped away the last tear caused by the departure of his mother, the -fresher became a Man, aggressively and consistently so. "No character," -wrote Colman, "is more jealous of the Dignity of Man (not excepting -Colonel Bath, in Fielding's Novel of Amelia), than a lad who has just -escaped from School birch to College discipline. This early Lord of the -Creation is so inflated with the importance of virility, that his -pretension to it is carefully kept up in almost every sentence he utters. -He never mentions any one of his associates but as a gentlemanly or a -pleasant man--a studious man, a dashing man, a drinking man, etc., -etc.--and the Homunculi Togati of Sixteen always talk of themselves as -Christ Church men, Trinity, St John's, Oriel, Brazen-nose men, -etc.--according to their several colleges, of which old Hens, they are the -Chickens--in short, there is no end to the colloquial manhood of these -mannikins." This passage might easily have been written to-day and not -about the middle of the eighteenth century, for the point of view of the -modern Oxford man is exactly the same as it was then. - -The parents of the old-time fresher looked at his going up and his -immediate assumption of manhood from very opposite points of view. The -mother, with regulation anxiety, conceived him to be a hardly-used, -homesick, half-starved, uncomfortable, thoroughly wretched fellow, doomed -to live in stone walls in a fever-stricken and miasmic locality. - - "Most dearly tender'd by his Mother, - Who loves him better than his brother; - So she at home a good while keeps him, - In White-broath, and Canary steeps him; - And tho' his Noddle's somewhat empty, - His Guts are stuffed with Sweet-meats plenty." - -This is how "Academia" described the mother's far-reaching apron-string -still feeling out, though some weeks cut, for her far distant son. Not so -the father! When his wife sent a servant up to Oxford with a well-stuffed -hamper for her boy and fond messages as to his health, he went down to the -servants' hall and, planting himself in front of the returned messenger, -asked "If's Son has got a Punck yet Whores he, and gets ye often drunk -yet; Being told by's Man, he took him quaffing, For joy he bursts his -sides with laughing; and prithee John (says he) and how was't--Ha, Drunk -i' the Cellar, as a Sow, wast?" - -Although the father took it for granted that his son had immediately -forgotten his home and arrived in an instant at man's estate--as far as -that permits of getting drunk--he was not always in the right. To a -certain extent the anxieties of the mother were justified, for, on -arriving at Oxford, the freshman did not always fall on a bed of clover. -In many instances he was lucky to get a bed at all in some poky little -garret with one window, through which could be obtained a minute view of -sky and stars, and which was ice-cold in winter and in summer stuffy to a -degree. However large the college there were always more men in residence -than could be properly housed. Colman said of the House, one of the -biggest colleges in Oxford, that it "was so completely cramm'd, that -shelving garrets, and even unwholesome cellars, were inhabited by young -gentlemen, in whose father's families the servants could not be less -liberally accommodated." He refers also to a fellow Westminster boy who -was "stuffed into one of these underground dog-holes." Then, too, even up -to the beginning of the nineteenth century there prevailed a system of -ragging freshers which did not tend to make them any the less homesick. -They were swindled by their scouts, and shamefully misused by their -bedmakers. - -To add to their discomfort their tutors were in many cases fast allies of -the bottle, and totally unable to render them any assistance in the matter -of finding their feet. Colman made a very illuminative reference, from his -own experience, to the scurvy tricks which the scouts and bedmakers played -upon the long-suffering fresher. "My two mercenaries," he wrote, "having -to do with a perfect greenhorn, laid in all the articles for me which I -wanted--wine, tea, sugar, coals, candles, bed and table linen--with many -useless etcetera, which they told me I wanted--charging me for everything -full half more than they had paid, and then purloining from me full half -of what they had sold." - -His scout and bedmaker had each seen fit to enter the bonds of holy -matrimony, and both brought up their better halves to assist in despoiling -the luckless greenhorn. He, however, soon lost his greenness and set about -putting his house in order--with the result that all four were turned out. -In their places, he duly installed a scout and a bedmaker who were married -to each other--a tactical move which "consolidates knavery, and reduces -your _menage_ to a couple of pilferers, instead of four." But before -Colman had found himself sufficiently to be able firmly but courteously to -dispense with their services, his bedmaker, fittingly called a harpy, -played him false most condemnably. "I was glad," he said, writing of his -first night in Oxford, "on retiring early to rest, that I might ruminate, -for five minutes, over the important events of the day, before I fell fast -asleep. I was not, then, in the habit of using a night-lamp or burning a -rush-light; so, having dropt the extinguisher upon my candle, I got into -bed; and found, to my dismay, that I was reclining in the dark upon a -surface very like that of a pond in a hard frost. The jade of a bedmaker -had spread the spick and span sheeting over the blankets, fresh from the -linen-draper's shop-unwash'd, uniron'd, unair'd, 'with all its -imperfections on its head.' Through the tedious hours of an inclement -January night, I could not close my eyes--my teeth chattered, my back -shivered--I thrust my head under the bolster, drew my knees up to my chin; -it was all useless, I could not get warm--I turned again and again, at -every turn a hand or a foot touch'd upon some new cold place; and at every -turn the chill glazy clothwork crepitated like iced buckram. God forgive -me for having execrated the authoress of my calamity! but, I verily think, -that the meekest of Christians who prays for his enemies, and for mercy -upon "all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks," would in his orisons, in -such a night of misery, make a specifick exception against his -Bedmaker!"[4] - -In these enlightened days a fresher, even, would not have left her out of -his prayers--he would have invented new ones for her especial benefit. -Poor Colman found when he rose betimes in the morning, making a virtue of -necessity, that a night of misery was not the only torment that the -ill-favoured hussy had stored up for him. For, having abluted in ice-cold -water in the hopes of refreshing himself, he found that the towel was in -an even worse state of hardness than the sheets; while at breakfast the -tablecloth was so stiff that he dreaded to sit down to his meal because he -feared to cut his shins against the edge of it. With intent, doubtless, to -add humiliation to injury, the old hag had also left his surplice in a -state of pristine unwashedness, so that "cased in this linen panoply, -which covers him from his chin to his feet, and seems to stand on end, in -emulation of a suit of armour (the certain betrayer of an academical -debutant) the Newcomer is to be heard at several yards distance, on his -way across a quadrangle, cracking and bouncing like a dry faggot upon the -fire--and he never fails to command notice, in his repeated marches to -prayer, till soap and water have silenced the noise of his arrival at -Oxford." - -The optimism of a Georgian freshman was truly amazing. The invaluable gift -of youth is undoubtedly its explanation. To be thrust suddenly into -entirely new surroundings where not only the manners and customs were -quite different from any of which he had experience before, but where it -was necessary to begin again, to readjust his outlook upon life, was a -very trying experience. It was one which men of greater maturity would -hesitate to undergo. And yet here was this man, a mere lad of fifteen or -sixteen, gladly entering a new world with a vague notion of the things -which would be expected of him or of the things to expect. Without a -twinge of nervousness he signed his name to long-winded oaths, and -unconsciously perjured himself five minutes later. Everywhere he saw -strange faces, met with new and incomprehensible experiences, and found -himself doing the wrong thing. With undaunted cheerfulness, however, he -allowed Oxford to treat him as she chose, to mould him to her own liking, -to pull him this way and that, until eventually, with an increased -optimism, his schoolboy corners were rounded off, and he became one with -Oxford. It was his very lack of experience which enabled him to go through -such a difficult time without flinching. He did not realise the tremendous -forces at work upon him. He was, in fact, like a seed put into earth. -After the rain, the sun, the wind, and all the forces of Nature have been -brought to bear upon it, slowly and irresistibly it shoots up and becomes -at last a flower. The Oxford freshman burst forth into blossom at the end -of his first year in the same helpless way. He was quite unable to tell by -what steps his development had been brought about, and was perfectly -content to go through his whole university career in the same blind way. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne's coffee-house and the _billet-doux_--Tick--Liquor - capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_--Latin odes for tradesmen - only. - - -One of the most interesting things to study at the university is the way -in which a man gets into a certain set. Let me take for example a group of -freshmen who come from the same public school, who have played together in -the school games, possibly invited each other home for the holidays. Their -tastes and ideas are apparently the same. On coming up to Oxford each man -is differently affected. For the first few weeks they meet in one -another's rooms and discuss their impressions freely and without any -reserve. Then suddenly, after the manner of mushrooms which spring up in a -single night, it is found that one of them has got into the racing set -which despises everybody who does not ride a horse; another into the -working set, which lives, eats, and sleeps with its books; a third into -the religious set, which in a quiet, unostentatious manner goes out of its -way to help the poor, attends frequent religious meetings and, -unfortunately and quite undeservedly, is somewhat scorned by the rest of -the college; a fourth has got into the smart set, and has become a -"blood"; and others into the thousand and one little groups which go to -the composition of a university. - -This curious sudden upheaval of ideas and habits which is brought about in -one short term is to be found in every college every year, just as it -appertained in the eighteenth century. I have shown the way in which some -of these freshmen came to feel ashamed of their clothes and crept into -the back entrances of barber's and tailor's shops, while their friends -remained perfectly satisfied with their appearance, and jogged along -without any desire for silks and satins. - -The Georgian "blood," however, was a person of tantamount importance. It -was he who provided the university with food for mirth, envy, satire, -recrimination. In a previous chapter I quoted Amhurst's description of how -a Smart might be distinguished when he sauntered along, languidly twirling -his clouded amber cane and smelling philosophically of essence. His main -objects in life were apparently to avoid the accusation of being -ill-mannered, to consume daily as much liquor as possible, to be ardent in -singing the praises of the latest toast, and to expend in finery far more -money than he possessed. He thought himself to be a model of culture and -was, in fact, the man of the period who put on the most "side." - -Amhurst, with an editorial genius that was without parallel in those -times, wrote an attack on the good manners of Undergraduates in order that -he might criticise, or better, satirise, that "large body of fine -gentlemen call'd Smarts." Under the name of Valentine Frippery he answered -his own attack with a bitter reply, taking up the cudgels stoutly on -behalf of the attackees, and wound up his article by riddling all men of -the Frippery type. - -[Illustration: BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD.] - -Allowing that Terrae Filius was ever a caricaturist, and that all his -tirades and jibes must be taken cum _grano salts_, nevertheless the -picture he draws of the Bucks of the first head is a very true one. -"Valentine Frippery" wrote in answer to the accusation of ill-breeding as -follows:-- - - "_To Terrae Filius._ - - "_Christ Church College, July 1._ - - "MR PRATE-APACE.--Amongst all the vile trash and ribaldry with which - you have lately poisoned the publick, nothing is more scandalous - and saucy than your charging our university with the want of - civility and good manners. Let me tell you, Sir, for all your haste, - we have as well-bred, accomplish'd gentlemen in Oxford, as any where - in Christendom; men that dress as well, sing as well, dance as well, - and behave in every respect as well, though I say it, as any man under - the sun. You are the first audacious Wit-wou'd that ever call'd Oxford - a boorish, uncivilised place: And demme, Sir, you ought to be hors'd - out of all good company for an impudent praggish Jackanapes. Oxford a - boorish place! poor wretch! I am sorry for thy ignorance. Who wears - finer lace, or better linnen than Jack Flutter? who has handsomer - tie-wigs or more fashionable cloaths or cuts a bolder dash than Tom - Paroquet? Where can you find a more handy man at a tea-table than - Robin Tattle? Or, without vanity I may say it, one that plays better - at Ombre than him, who subscribes himself an enemy to all such pimps - as thou art?" - -Such are the arguments he brought up against a charge of bad manners: -singing, dancing, handy at a tea-table, wearing the best lace and linen -and cutting a bold dash. The perfect gentleman indeed! The acme of -culture! He, with all the others of his kidney, put in an appearance at -Lyne's coffee-house in academical undress somewhere about eleven -o'clock--that is to say, immediately after a gentle dalliance with -breakfast. Here he discussed the topics of the hour, heard the latest -news, enjoyed the latest scandals, and then strolled in the Park or under -Merton wall. Those who made no pretensions to "Smartness" were meanwhile -dining in Hall--a thing far beneath the dignity of a Buck of the first -head who ate in solitary dignity in his own chamber, his meal consisting, -for example, of "boil'd chicken and pettitoes." After resting awhile, he -spent an hour or so in overcoming the difficulties of dressing. That -satisfactorily concluded, it was his bounden duty to make an afternoon -appearance at Lyne's. About five o'clock he dropped in at Hamilton's, -where he "struts about the room for a while and drinks a dram of citron." -Thence he returned to college and adjourned to the chapel "to shew how -genteely he dresses, and how well he can chaunt." Having given conclusive -demonstrations of these two accomplishments, he drank tea with some -celebrated toast and attended her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Such a ridiculous idea as work never entered his head. Any -time he might give to reading was employed in the study of novels and -romances. - -As an example of his passion for cleanliness at all costs, Terrae Filius -gave an account of an adventure of one of these gentry at Lyne's -coffee-house. "This afternoon, a noted Smart of Christ Church College, as -he was writing a _billet-doux_ had the misfortune to blot one of his -ruffles with a spot of ink, which put the gentleman in so great a -disorder, that he threw the standish through the window, stamped about the -room for half an hour together, and was often heard to say, I wonder that -gentlemen cannot find some cleaner method of conveying their thoughts, and -that he wished he might be blown up wherever he went, if he ever made use -of that filthy liquor again, though the displeasure of the whole fair sex -was the consequence. Let prigs and pedants, said he, keep all the nasty -manufacture to themselves." - -It is comforting to be assured that this elaborate sect was not entirely -composed of peers and gentleman commoners, for their street behaviour was -far worse than anything that even the most hypercritical Somerville -blue-stocking can accuse Undergraduates of to-day. "They cannot forbear -laughing," said Amhurst, "at every body that obeys the statutes, and -differs from them; or (as my correspondent expresses it in the proper -dialect of the place) that does not cut as bold a dash as they do. They -have singly, for the most part, very good assurances; but when they walk -together in bodies (as they often do), how impregnable are their -foreheads? They point at every foul they meet, laugh very loud, and -whisper as loud as they laugh. Demme, Jack, there goes a prig! Let us blow -the puppy up. Upon which they all stare him full in the face, turn him -from the wall as he passes by, and set up an horse laugh, which puts the -plain raw novice out of countenance, and occasions great triumph amongst -these tawdry desperadoes." - -Like all hooligans they were thorough cowards unless backed up by vastly -superior numbers. It took about twenty of them, and that with the -assistance of Dutch courage, to frighten some three or four foreigners and -to kick a Presbyterian parson out of a coffee-house. They were for the -most part sons of country farmers with practically no money who got into -the Smart set immediately after coming up, and who remained Smarts just so -long as the "mercers, taylors, shoe makers, and perriwig-makers will tick -with them." Tradesmen of that day were apparently possessed of far longer -patience than most of the present generation. To-day they despatch -solicitor's letters after two terms. Then they allowed a bill to lie -fallow (with the usual accretion of interest) for three or four years. - -With his usual quaint humour Amhurst declared that he has seen these same -Smarts two or three years afterwards "in gowns and cassocks, walking with -demure looks and an holy leer; so easy is the transition from dancing to -preaching, and from the bowling-green to the pulpit." - -The Rev. Richard Graves, a Pembroke man, in 1732, related that he became -friends with a genial crowd who passed their evenings in drinking strong -ale, smoking like chimneys, punning, and singing Bacchanalian catches. -Some gentlemen commoners, however, Smarts, who came from the same part of -the country as Graves, rescued him from the ill-bred hands of such low -company--so considered chiefly on account of the liquor they drank. In his -own words "they good-naturedly invited me to their party: they treated me -with port wine and arrack-punch; and then, when they had drunk so much, as -hardly to distinguish wine from water, they would conclude with a bottle -or two of claret. They kept late hours and drank their favourite toasts on -their knees. This was deemed good company and high life; but it neither -suited my taste, my fortune, or my constitution." - -Night after night of this deep drinking made the fortunes of the -spirit-merchants, but left some of the drinkers soddened and useless. I -may quote, as an instance, the case of Lord Lovelace. - -It is a well-known fact that the Principal of his Hall reported, and that -truthfully, that "he never knew him sober but twelve hours and that he -used every morning to drink a quart of brandy, or something equivalent to -it, to his own share." Hearne, too, in his diary makes reference to a -commoner of Magdalen Hall, a son of Dr Inett, who was found dead from -drinking ale and brandy. There were three companions with him, but they -were merely asleep under the table. Professor Pryme, who was up at the end -of the eighteenth century, afterwards wrote that when Hall was over it was -the fashion to collect a large party together to drink wine with a little -dessert. "The host," he said, "named a Vice-President, and toasts were -given. First a lady by each of the party, then a gentleman, and then a -sentiment. I remember one of these latter, the single married and the -married happy. Every one was required to fill a bumper to the toasts of -the President, the Vice-President, and his own. If any one wished to go to -chapel he was pressed to return afterwards."[5] - -The fact, however, that toping constituted such an important feature of -Undergraduate life, among Smarts and non-Smarts equally is not a matter -for vast amazement, or stern condemnation. _Quis custodiet ipsos -custodes?_--for the Dons were if anything even worse than those to whom -they stood in _loco parentis_. The whole world of Dons, from the humblest -and most juvenile Fellow to the king of kings, the Head of a college or -Hall, cultivated the vice of drink as assiduously as if it were a virtue. -Oxford was not so far away from London as not to reflect the manners and -habits of the capital, and since to the Bucks of London abnormal drinking -was then the highest good form, it is not to be wondered at that the -Undergraduates, ever of tender years and advanced imitative faculties, -should give a brilliant reflection of the metropolis. - -Amhurst has pointed out that the Smarts never read anything but plays, -novels, and French comedies. When _The Student_ appeared, however, they -took it up more or less whole-heartedly. In these days of photographic -(that being the polite way of spelling pornographic) weeklies, a new -venture in 'varsity journals is greeted as a nine days' wonder. However -good the contents provided, the Oxford man prefers to look upon the -fetching features--and limbs, of footlight favourites in papers provided -free of charge in the Junior Common Room. Consequently the rash starter of -a "'varsity rag" is compelled to retire from the lists after the first two -or three issues. In the old days, however, even the _blase_ Smart had some -initiative left to him in matters of literature. He supported the new -paper with enthusiasm and read every number carefully. After some time he -found that the editor was catering too freely for the Dons. Instead, -however, of discontinuing his subscription he wrote to the editor and -appealed on the grounds that _The Student_ was becoming too prosy and -_Spectator_-like, and urged him to keep it lighter in tone. The following -is an extract from the letter sent in:-- - - "----'S COFFEE-HOUSE, _May 4_. - - "BROTHER STUDENT,--Without a compliment I am much pleased with your - scheme, and heartily wish you success. Hitherto I think you bid fair - for it, and seem to meet with general applause. But will you forgive - my offering a word or two of advice? Let us have no more of your - abstract speculations, as you call them; indeed they are not popular. - Last night, in a full assembly of pretty fellows at this place (all - your admirers), Billy Languish read your fourth number. We all agreed - that your 'Impudence' is inimitable, but your 'letter in defence of - religion,' tho' it did not startle us (as you apprehended it would) - somewhat amazed us, I must own. Consider, Mr Student, you write for - the publick of which three fourths are ignoramuses, and therefor, tho' - we may allow you now and then in compliment to your taylor and mercer - and other learned folks, to insert a Latin ode or epigram, yet I must - needs tell you, that we don't relish your metaphysics. For which - reason I am directed by all the Smarts at ----'s, to acquaint you, - that we expect (especially if it be English), at least to understand - what we read. We consider your book as a monthly feast or - entertainment; and if we pay our ordinary, 'tis but reasonable the - dishes you set before us should be such as we are able to taste. We - cannot indeed always expect rarities, and may now and then admit of a - trifle or puff by way of make up; but prithee don't surfeit us with - ambigu's and inconnu's. At the same time I must tell you, that we are - much pleased with your last Sapphic, that we reverence Tony Alsop's - memory, and have resolv'd one and all to subscribe to his works. Billy - Languish and Dick Dimple indeed say, the 'verses on the grotto' are - better; and Dick (who you know is a wit as well as a beau) gave us - off hand a translation of them, but I have indeed since found out - where he borrows it.--I am yours, - - HARRY DIDAPPER." - -The _habitues_ of the unknown coffee-house, all pretty fellows, looked -upon _The Student_ as a "monthly feast of entertainment!" For all their -soaking and "wenching" and slacking they would seem to have had a certain -amount of brain and appreciative capability left to them. - -In a subsequent chapter I shall set down the methods by which these men -obtained their degrees after having spent some six or seven years inside -the old walls of the university. They had as little time for work as the -"bloods" of to-day whose every moment is claimed by matters of far greater -moment than mere study! To a certain extent the Smarts, though they -perhaps did not know it, were philosophers. They said to themselves that -life was short and youth shorter still, that therefore it behoved them to -cram in to the six years of their university career as much pleasure, -excitement, and amusement as was possible. The eighteenth century lent -itself whole-heartedly to this programme. The Dons, who should have been -intent on governing Oxford, had other game afoot. The Undergraduates were -thus left to their own devices, and the Smarts were the first to take -advantage of such Arcadian conditions. They delayed the hour of rising -until the sun grew weary of calling them out. There was no stern shepherd -to round them into chapel at the ungodly hour of eight o'clock. Like -butterflies they flitted from place to place at the caprice of the moment. -They held Bacchanalian revels in and out of college without regard to Dons -and statutes. Their paramours, far from being ejected from the city, were -shared with the authorities, thus proving that they had a better -understanding of real socialism than the exponents of to-day. The same -cobbled streets that hear us shouting our way home in the small hours, saw -the Georgian men staggering along with tight-linked arms in the silvery -moonlight, while Big Tom boomed out the birth of a new day. - -As year after year slipped relentlessly off the calender they absorbed the -unique atmosphere of Oxford, fully appreciating under their mask of -_blase_ scorn the traditions and the unforgettable charm of _Alma mater_. -They carried their love and reverence for her to the grave, and gave proof -of it by sending their sons and grandsons to swell the never-ending -procession of men who sing the praises of Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven--The President - under her thumb--Amhurst's table of cons.--King Charles and the other - place. - - -What is an Oxford toast? For answer I cannot do better than turn to that -Oxford _Encyclopaedia_, Terrae Filius, who from the ambush of his -anonymity, directed his fire upon all toasts with unerring aim and deadly -effect. - -"She is born, as the King says, of mean estate, being the daughter of some -insolent mechanick, who fancies himself a gentleman and resolves to keep -up his family by marrying his girl to a parson or a schoolmaster; to which -end, he and his wife call her pretty miss, as soon as she knows what it -means, and sends her to the dancing school to learn how to hold up her -head, and turn out her toes; she is taught from a child not to play with -any of the dirty boys and girls in the neighbourhood; but to mind her -dancing, and have a great respect for the gown. This foundation being -laid, she goes on fast enough of herself, without any farther assistance, -except an hoop, a gay suit of cloaths, and two or three new holland -smocks. Thus equipt, she frequents all the balls and publick walks in -Oxford; where it is a great chance if she does not, in time, meet with -some raw coxcomb or other, who is her humble servant; waits upon her home, -calls upon her again the next day; dangles after her from place to place; -and is at last, with some art and management, drawn in to marry her. - - "She has impudence--therefore she has wit; - She is proud--therefore she is well bred; - She has fine Cloaths--therefore she is genteel; - She would fain be a wife-and therefore she is not a Wh--re." - -Amhurst also informed his readers that they appeared principally in -summer, like butterflies, when they flitted from flower to flower of the -Smarts under Merton Wall. "The toasts," he remarked, "are scouring up and -new-trimming their best gowns and petticoats against the summer, and -intend to make a splendid appearance." These ladies were an extremely -conspicuous feature of Undergraduate life. In the description of the -Smart's day we are told how after chapel he drank tea with some celebrated -toast, and then waited upon her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Afterwards, when drowning his sorrows at the particular -establishment in vogue at the time, the Smart exhausted himself in his -efforts to dash off a sonnet to her eyelashes or a rhapsody in praise of -her tip-tilted nose. He drank her health upon his knees, tossing off a -non-heeltaps to every letter of her name. His day was considered wasted -unless he were seen in all his delicate apparel in company with the -acknowledged reigning queen among toasts. - -One lady, by name of Flavia, kept an orange tree growing in the window of -her bed-chamber. This inspired a burst of classic poetry from a Buck who -saw and envied it. In one of the volumes of Terrae Filius a most amusing -story was related which shows what influence these toasts exercised upon -the Undergraduates. She, too, answered to the name of Flavia--whether she -were one and the same as the horticultural lady it is impossible to say. A -"promising lad" came up and was recognised by his master--of whom he was -"a very favourite"--to be a "diligent and ingenious scholar." - -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE FIRST QUADRANGLE.] - -That character he maintained for some time, keeping to his chamber and his -books, with sported oak, and not concerning himself with the vagaries of -fashion; "indeed the poor young fellow did not dress smart; nay, often was -really dirty." Gradually he made the acquaintance of some noted Bucks and -sought their society and conversation out of curiosity. But they -continually ragged him about his shabby appearance. "Dick!" said they, -"prithee let's burn this damned brown wig of thine; get thee a little more -linnen." The lad for a time was obdurate, but at last put forward in -excuse that "this alteration of himself would make him be taken too much -notice of, and, it may be, his new dress might sit so awkward, that he -would become the jest of his acquaintance." This was a set-back to the -friends, but they came to the cunning conclusion that he might be tricked -into it. So they buttonholed him. "Dick," said one, "did you never see -Miss Flavia, one of our top toasts?" "No," quoth he, "unless at her -window." "Well, faith," said the friend, "to be plain, she likes you, I -myself heard her say in public company, I have been shew'd Mr Such-a-one -several times; everybody says he's a man of fire; it is a thousand pities -he's such a sloven." Dick was finished. He went home obsessed with the -idea, flung his wig into the fire, forgot his studies entirely and swore -to see Flavia the very next day. His friends spread a rumour abroad that -he had come into money, and his tradesmen gave him unlimited credit. -Accordingly he was decked out, in ruffles and all the other paraphernalia, -and from that day worshipped at the lady's shrine. In these days such fair -Flavias would in all probability be found pulling beer in a public-house, -totally devoid of H's, but none the less popular among a certain set. -To-day they can be treated with a certain amount of Undergraduate levity, -but in the eighteenth century it behoved the contumelious to walk -delicately and to be very careful. Amhurst hoisted the danger signal when -he related that "not long ago, a bitter lampoon was published upon the -most celebrated of these petticoat-professors, as soon as it came out the -town was in an uproar, and a very severe sentence was passed upon the -author of this anonymous libel; to discover whom no pains were spared; all -the disgusted, ill-natured fellows in the university were, one after -another, suspected upon this occasion. At last, I know not how, it was -peremptorily fixed upon one; whether justly, or not, I cannot say; but the -parties offended resolved to make an example of somebody for such an -enormous crime, and one of them (more enraged than the rest) was heard to -declare 'that, right or wrong, that impudent scoundrel (mentioning his -name) should be expelled, by G--d; and that she had interest enough with -the president and senior fellows of his college to get his business -done.'" And the scandalous part of the business was that the president and -senior fellows who had evidently had relations with the woman in question -were such cowards as to yield to her demands, which probably took the form -of threats of exposure against themselves, and sent the unoffending man -down for good. - -In his character of general reformer Terrae Filius felt himself compelled, -however reluctantly, to "draw his pen against womenkind"--the womenkind of -Oxford. His apology for so doing was that "I shall have the misfortunes of -numberless young men to answer for, if I conceal anything which may be for -their advantage, or spare any abuses in the universities, though committed -by the fairest offenders." - -After a disquisition on love, which he described as "a most arbitrary -passion," which "engrosses the whole man ... and grumbles at its own -poverty and searches after new acquisitions," he continued "conscious of -this truth, our wise forefathers took all possible care to purge the seats -of learning of these shining temptations, these dangerous decoys of youth; -but as all their prudence and precaution could not do this entirely, they -made a statute, 'prohibiting all scholars, as well as Graduates or -Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to frequent the houses and shops of -any townsmen by day, and especially by night; but more especially houses, -which harbour or receive infamous or suspected women, with whom all -scholars are strictly forbid to keep company, either in their own private -chambers, or at the houses of any townsmen.' I suppose it will be objected -by the Smarts, or others, that this statute extends only to common -prostitutes or night-walkers, and not to those divine creatures dignified -by the name of toasts; but I think that it includes all suspected women, -and especially the toasts, for the following reasons:-- - -"1. Because it was not the only design of the statute to restrain the -scholars from debauchery (from which, I hope, they need no forcible -restraint!) but to prevent them also from neglecting their studies, and -entering into scandalous marriages; of which they are in no danger from -common strumpets and mercenary street-walkers. - -"2. Because there was no occasion for a statute against common whores, any -more than against house-breakers and pickpockets, which are all punishable -by the laws of the land. - -"3. Because I have a better opinion of the townsmen of Oxford (who are, -many of them, matriculated men), than to believe that they would entertain -in their houses such filthy drabs; though it is probable enough that they -would marry their daughters to advantage if they could; in which I can see -no great harm on their parts. - -"4. Because I have a better opinion of the scholars too, than to believe -that they would keep company with such cattle; and I think it is a scandal -to the university to stand in need of a statute, which supposes that any -of her hopeful children are addicted to such beastliness." - -Amhurst's reasons are logical enough to convince the meanest intelligence -of the true nature of the Oxford toasts. In support of them he brings up -no less a second than King Charles I., who wrote officially and at some -length on the question of university government to the Vice-Chancellor and -Heads of Cambridge commanding the suppression of women such as those in -question. The reason why the good King did not treat Oxford to a similar -injunction is, supposedly, that the need for it did not reach the royal -ears. It is hinted more than once, too, in the pages of Terrae Filius that -the Dons themselves entertained feelings of sympathy towards the toasts, -and shielded them from royal visitations by intentionally keeping things -quiet. Judging from the character of the Dons in the eighteenth century it -is highly probable that such was indeed the case. - -"Happy is it," says Amhurst, "for the present generation of Oxford toasts, -that King Charles I. (so much unlike that accomplished gentleman, his son) -was long ago laid in the dust! Were that rigid King now alive, my mind -misgives me strangely, that I should see an end of all the balls and -cabals, and junketings at Oxford; that several of our most celebrated and -beautiful madams would pluck off their fine feathers, and betake -themselves to an honest livelihood; or make their personal appearance -before the lords of his majesty's privy council, to answer their contempt, -and such other matters as should be objected against them." - -Unmourned and besmirched the last of the Oxford toasts has long since -passed beyond the judgment of man. The Dons were in all too many cases the -cause of sending recruits to the ranks of the oldest profession in the -world. Heads of colleges, reverend clerics, and holders of Fellowships -must all answer to the charge of "wenching." - -[Illustration: A VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN.] - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -The Servitor - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors. - - -In the year of grace nineteen hundred and eleven there are three main -divisions of the genus Undergraduate:--scholars, commoners, and "toshers," -the last sometimes known as non-collegiate Undergraduates. Under a fourth -heading, which constitutes a small subdivision all by itself, I may place -the working-men Undergraduates--the members of Ruskin Hall. Georgian -Undergraduates might also be split up into parallel divisions. There were -also servitors, who were, in some sort, the ancient form of the -working-men Undergraduates of the twentieth century. - -Oxford in Georgian times was, according to the popular conception, a place -where peers and rich men sent their sons in order that they might receive -a better education than anywhere else in the world. The erudition, -classical learning, and brilliance of the Dons passed all belief. Nowhere -on earth was there gathered together a body of men with such knowledge and -brain power. Did any man yearn for instruction in any subject, Oxford was -the only place where that subject was exhaustively known and thoroughly -taught. - -It naturally followed, therefore, that the lower classes, who drudged all -day in the effort to keep body and soul together, and provide the -wherewithal to fill the stomachs of their hungry progeny, left Oxford -outside their calculations when discussing the prospective education of -their children. Oxford was a place for rich men. How, then, could their -sons go there? It was impossible. Meanwhile, the children were clamouring -for education. What was to be done? - -Through the influence of rich men who had been to the university the -penniless lads were taken from the plough and entered into colleges as -errand boys and odd-job hands. They were at liberty to pick up what -education they could in the intervals of performing menial tasks for the -gentlemen commoners. They cleaned boots, fetched and carried, and were the -servants of anybody who chose to order them about. Having no money they -slept in coal-holes, cupboards under the stairs, and attics under the -eaves, and satisfied the pangs of hunger by picking up the crumbs which -fell from the rich men's tables. They had no social intercourse with the -gentlemen commoners, and were treated with scant courtesy by the college -servants. - -The resemblance between the servitor and the Ruskin Hall man is apparent -when due allowance has been made for modern improvements. The modern -conception of Oxford is curiously akin to that of the eighteenth century. -The education to be received still has a very high reputation. The present -day working classes, however, possess a greater ambition than their -antecedents showed. They are no longer content to snatch education in the -intervals of earning their keep. Ruskin Hall has been built for their -especial benefit. There they may win scholarships to their heart's -content. Their kinship with the humble servitor lies in the fact that they -do their own menial work instead of having to do it for others; that they -have no social intercourse with the Undergraduates of other colleges -except at the weekly debates of the Union Society in which they -distinguish themselves by their fluent Socialistic doctrines; and that -they take no part in the athletic and collegiate life of the university. - -One of the earliest references to servitors in the eighteenth century -records is contained in a comedy entitled "An Act at Oxford." The play was -written in 1704 by a dramatist named Baker. - -One of the characters was a servitor named Chum. His father was a -chimney-sweep and his mother a poor ginger-bread seller at Cow Cross. Chum -was established in Brazen-Nose College, and his duties consisted in -waiting "upon Gentleman-Commoners, to dress and clean their shoes and make -out their exercises." His "fortune," which was "soon told," consisted -apparently of "two Raggs call'd shirts, a dog's eared Grammer, and a piece -of _Ovid de Tristibus_." For having materially assisted his master, a -Smart, to win the hand and heart of a fair damsel known as Berynthia, he -was rewarded, in the play, with the sum of five hundred guineas--an -occurrence which would be the height of improbability in real life, as the -servitor was jeered at and made a kind of Aunt Sally by all and sundry. - -In 1709 one of those poor miserable wretches sat him down--where he -procured pen and paper is still shrouded in mystery--and wrote a poem on -his own doleful condition. Its title is "Servitour," and it was printed by -"H. Hills in Black-Fryars, near the water side." He pictured himself to be -coming out of a Skittle Yard in his "rusty round cap." - - "Like Cheesy Pouch of Shon-ap-Shenkin, - His Sandy locks, with wide Hiatus, - Like Bristles seem'd Erected at us, - Clotted with Sweat, the Ends hung down; - And made Resplendent Cape of Gown; - Whose Cape was thin, and so Transparent, - Hold it t' th' Light, you'd scarce beware on't - 'Twixt Chin and Breast contiguous Band, - Hung in an Obtuse Angle and-- - It had a Latitude Canonick, - His coat so greasy was and torn, - That had you seen it you'd ha' sworn - 'Twas Ten Years old when he was born. - His buttons fringed as is the Fashion, - In Gallick and Brittanick Nation; - Or, to speak like more Modern fellows, - Their moulds dropt out like ripe Brown-shellers. - His Leather Galligaskin's rent, - Made Artless Music as he went.... - His Holey Stockins were ty'd up, - One with a Band, one with a Rope." - -In such clothes as these, the extreme poverty of which would bring a blush -to the cheek of the modern Oxford paper-boy, this gloomy poet had to go to -the Buttery and procure game and capons, ribs of beef, and other succulent -dainties for some gentleman commoner's dinner, while for himself there was -nothing but "Poor scraps and Cold as I'm a sinner." As a place to lay his -head o' nights, he was thankful to get a lumber-room in the apex of the -building, somewhere under the eaves, - - "A Room with Dirt and Cobwebs lin'd, - Which here and there with Spittle Shin'd; - Inhabited let's see--by Four; - If I mistake not, 'twas no more. - Two buggy beds.... - Their Dormer windows with brown paper, - Was patch'd to keep out Northern Vapour. - The Table's broken foot stood on, - An old Schrevelious Lexicon, - Here lay together Authors various, - From Homer's _Iliad_, to Cordelius: - And so abus'd was Aristotle, - He only served to stop a bottle.... - Where eke stood Glass, Dark-Lanthorns ancient - Fragment of Mirerr, Penknife, Trencher, - And forty things which I can't mention. - Old Chairs and Stools, and such-like Lumber, - Compleatly furnisht out the Chamber." - -George Whitefield, a servitor at Pembroke in 1732, also shared his rooms -with others. His companions, however, did not appear to have suffered -unduly from the usual depression caused by their hard lot, for they -frequently invited Whitefield to join them "in their excess of riot," and -looked upon him as a weird and extraordinary creature for his persistent -refusals. His account of the manner of his admission to Pembroke College -is characteristic of the man, and gives an idea of what tasks servitors -were called upon to perform. - -"Being now near eighteen years old, it was judged proper for me to go to -the university. God had sweetly prepared my way. The friends before -applied to, recommended me to the Master of Pembroke College. Another -friend took up ten pounds upon bond (which I have since repaid), to defray -the first expence of entring; and the Master, contrary to all -expectations, admitted me servitor immediately. - -"Soon after my admission I went and resided, and found my having been used -to a publick-house was now of service to me. For many of the servitors -being sick at my first coming up, by diligent and ready attendance I -ingratiated myself into the gentlemen's favour so far, that many, who had -it in their power, chose me to be their servitor. - -"This much lessened my expence; and indeed, God was so gracious, that, -with the profits of my place, and some presents made me by my kind tutor, -for almost the first three years I did not put all my relations together -to above L24 expence. - -"And it has often grieved my soul to see so many young students spending -their substance in extravagant living, and thereby entirely unfitting -themselves for the prosecution of their proper studies." - -Because he became a Methodist and attended seriously to his religious -duties, Whitefield was badly ragged. The fact that a servitor should make -any claims to superior godliness made his employers, for some reason, -acutely annoyed. "I daily underwent some contempt at college," he wrote, -"some have thrown dirt at me; others, by degrees, took away their pay from -me; and two friends that were dear unto me, grew shy of, and forsook me." - -One of his lay duties as servitor consisted in going round to the -gentlemen's rooms at ten o'clock at night and knocking to find out who was -in--the majority of them being at that hour, doubtless, discussing punch -and claret in the Mitre or Tuns. All those who made no answer to his knock -were reported and received punishment for being out of college after -hours. - -Of his college exercises he wrote as follows:-- - -"Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme, I had no power to write a -word nor so much as tell my Christian friends of my inability to do it. -Saturday being come (which is the day the students give up their -compositions), it was suggested to me that I must go down into the Hall -and confess I could not make a theme, and so publickly suffer, as if it -were for my Master's sake. When the bell rung to call us, I went to open -the door to go downstairs, but feeling something give me a violent inward -check, I entered my study, and continued instant in prayer, waiting the -event. For this my tutor fined me half a crown. The next week Satan served -me in like manner again; but having now got more strength, and perceiving -no inward check, I went into the Hall. My name being call'd, I stood up, -and told my tutor I could not make a theme. I think he fined me a second -time; but, imagining that I would not willingly neglect my exercise, he -afterwards called me into the common room, and kindly enquired whether any -misfortune had befallen me, or what was the reason I could not make a -theme? I burst into tears, and assured him that it was not out of contempt -of authority, but that I could not act otherwise. Then, at length, he -said he believed I could not; and, when he left me, told a friend (as he -very well might), that he took me to be really mad." - -Besides cleaning boots, fetching and carrying, running errands and -performing other menial services of a like nature, the servitors jumped at -the opportunity of earning odd pence by writing out the impositions to -which their masters had been condemned by the Proctors. - - "For should grave Proctor chance to meet - A buck in boots along the street - He stops his course and with permission - Asking his name, sets imposition, - Which to get done, if he's a ninny - He gives his barber half a guinea. - This useful go-between will share it - With servitor in college garret, - Who counts these labours sweet as honey - Which brings to purse some pocket money."[6] - -Other methods of pocket filling to which servitors had recourse were -mentioned by Dr Johnson, who, writing to Tom Warton concerning the delay -in a work on Spenser caused by the number of his correspondents and pupils -at Oxford, said: "Three hours a day stolen from sleep and amusement will -produce it. Let a servitor transcribe the quotations, and interleave them -with references to save time." As, however, servitors were not admitted -within the sacred precincts of the Bodleian, transcription was necessarily -limited. This was a cause of great lamentation and outcry at the time from -the men, because they were compelled to do the work themselves, and from -the servitors because they were thus deprived of a means of earning a few -extra necessary pence. "Dr Hyde complains," says Wordsworth in his book on -the eighteenth century, "that some in the university have been very -troublesome in pressing that their servitors may transcribe manuscripts -for them, though not capable of being sworn to the Library." - -[Illustration: VIEW OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE.] - -For a commoner to be seen in public in the company of a servitor was a -"great disparagement." Consequently, if a servitor was sufficiently -blessed to be able to call a commoner friend, he must needs visit him -secretly, or under cover of darkness. It is on record that Shenstone, who -was a commoner of Pembroke, visited Jago a servitor, a friend of his, in -strict private because of this popular prejudice. When Erasmus was at -Queen's his servitor's rooms were immediately above his own. The poor -wretch, besides being at his master's beck and call, was very often the -slave of his master's mistress--an employ of vast uneasiness and -discomfort. - -In the _Oxford Chronicle_ in 1859, in a series of articles entitled -"Oxford during the Last Century," Aubrey describes Willis, the servitor of -Dr Iles, Canon of Christ Church, as studying in his blue livery cloak at -the lower end of the hall by the door, and assisting his master's wife in -mixing drugs. - -As a parallel case to that of Whitefield, who was a drawer in the Bell -Inn, Gloucester, Hearne tells "of one Lyne, son of a clergyman, and -grandson of the Town Clerk of Oxford, who was drawer at the King's Head -Tavern of that city, in 1735; his elder brother being Fellow of Emmanuel, -and his younger an eminent scholar of King's." - -It was no exaggeration to say that the servitors lived on the scraps from -the Undergraduates' tables. The following quotation shows the grinding -penury against which they had to struggle: "Of the poverty of the class," -wrote J. R. Green in his wonderful "Oxford Studies," "no better instance -can be found than Samuel Wesley, the father of the Wesleys who were to -change the whole state of religion in England, and himself a very stirring -person, to whom we shall have occasion subsequently to allude. He was the -son of an ejected and starving non-conformist minister, and when at the -age of sixteen he walked to Oxford and entered himself as a servitor at -Exeter, his whole worldly wealth amounted to no more than L2, 16s. Yet -after supporting himself during his whole university career without any -aid from his friends, save a trivial 5s., he set off to London to make a -plunge into life with a capital increased to L10, 15s. Five shillings, -however, sneer as we may, seem to have been no uncommon 'allowance' to a -servitor of the time."[7] - -These poor servitors did not feel any touch of shame or degradation at -having to clean boots and perform all the other dirty work of the place. -Why should they? Their poverty at Oxford was in no way different from that -in which they lived previously to their arrival at Oxford. It was merely a -change in locality. For they came, as has been shown, from plough and -public-house. - -There are many instances to show to what great use some of them put the -education which they managed to acquire during their servitorship. Sir -John Birkenhead was a servitor at Oriel, and during that period of his -afterwards noteworthy career, his brother was a trooper. It was only -through the kindheartedness of a patron that Bishop Robinson became the -servitor of Sir James Astrey at Brasenose. He was afterwards appointed to -a Fellowship at Oriel, was sent as an envoy to Sweden, and became Bishop -both of Bristol and London. In the days of his fame he was able to repay -in some sort the kindness of his patron by granting his son a chaplaincy; -and his love for the university is shown by the scholarships which he -founded at Oriel. - -Can Ruskin Hall point proudly to a son who has achieved such fame as -either of these ex-servitors? - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper's--Southey at Balliol--Cox's six-oared crew--The - riverside barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes against - games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses and - badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights--Paniotti's Fencing - Academy--Old-time "bug-shooters"--Skating in Christ Church - meadows--Cricket and the Bullingdon Club--Walking tours. - - -It would be impossible to live in Oxford and be healthy--except perhaps in -the summer term, if we are lucky enough to have any sun--without taking -exercise. It has long been a matter of wonder how those men keep fit who, -with the excuse of "having a heart" neither row, play soccer, rugger, -hockey, or any other of the strenuous games which keep the average -Undergraduate sound in wind and limb. As a matter of fact they don't. For -the "heart-y" gentlemen almost invariably take as many week-ends out of -Oxford as possible, and in most cases retire comfortably and ingloriously -to the paternal establishment and maternal care long before term is over. -The others, the normal people, the devotees of bone and muscle, the -"muddied oafs and flannelled fools"--(which is the only mistake Mr Kipling -ever made)--are never ill, at least from climatic effects. They may strain -something, or even break a few bones, but that cannot be put down to the -Oxford weather. The best doctors on earth, or rather the best -preventatives against illness--and there is a great difference--are the -river, the football and hunting fields, and the boxing ring, and as we -find these things to be true to-day so in old times, when wigs and ruffles -were somewhat of a handicap to the taking of hard exercise, these -remedies against the Oxford climate were adopted with almost the same -keenness. The word almost is used advisedly because the percentage of -"bloods" who did nothing strenuous was far larger, and the possibilities -in things sporting were not nearly so great. We have changed all that, and -can afford a smile of condescension when, seated on the alleviating -pontius in a "Rough" eight, with its simple-looking sliding seat, its -hair-thick outer shell and its wonderful travelling possibilities, we -think of the heavy gigs and six-oared boats into which our predecessors -"tumbled," clad in catskin caps and leather trousers. - -Nevertheless the river was just as popular then though for quite different -reasons. There were no rowing Blues to be had in those days; no presidents -of boat clubs--no boat clubs even. There was only Dame Hooper's--an -odd-looking, tumble-down, shed-like place, where the gownsmen blarneyed -the old lady and hired out skiffs, gigs, cutters, and canoes. Unlike our -togger men who, like strange hairy creatures from another planet, -hatlessly converge from all parts of the town through the Broad Walk to -the Barges, emitting yards of muscular leg for all the world to view in -amusement and admiration, the eighteenth-century wet-bobs went down to the -river in square--or, as they called it, trencher--and gown. But Dame -Hooper was old, unskittish, and trustworthy, and so they threw off their -academical garb in her shed and arrayed themselves in the trousers, -jackets, and caps which were then the thing. It might well be thought that -these were a great hindrance to correct 'varsity swinging. But they did -not worry their heads about that--there was no boat race to be taken into -agitated consideration--and it has been left for 1911 to pour out its -bleeding heart in vehement controversy anent the true 'varsity style as -opposed to the new fangled Belgian method. In those days the motto was air -and exercise. Now, dare it be said, the river is a business, a -profession, to which are consecrated all the waking moments, and many of -those which we should like to dedicate to bed, of our whole university -careers. - -Southey, who was, oddly enough, a Balliol man, said that he only learned -two things at Oxford--to swim and to row. After he went down he wrote the -following description of the river:-- - -"A number of pleasure boats were gliding in all directions upon this clear -and rapid stream; some with spread sails; in others the caps and tassels -of the students formed a curious contrast with their employment at the -oar. Many of the smaller boats had only a single person in each; and in -some of these he sat face forward, leaning back as in a chair, and plying -with both hands a double-bladed oar in alternate strokes, so that his -motion was like the path of a serpent. One of these canoes is, I am -assured, so exceedingly light, that a man can carry it; but few persons -are skilful or venturous enough to use it."[8] - -It would be well worth while to watch the face of one of these timid -canoers if we could bring him down to the barges to-day to one of the -"rag" regattas and show him scores of "venturous persons" who not only -dispense with paddles, but dash about in a Canadian canoe with a punt -pole. - -G. V. Cox told us that in 1790 there were no races, but that "men went to -Nuneham for occasional parties in six-oared boats (eight-oared boats were -then unknown), but these boats belonged to the boat people; the crew was a -mixed crew got up for the day, and the dresses worn anything but uniform. -I belonged to a crew of five, who were, I think, the first distinguished -by a peculiar (and what would now be thought a ridiculous) dress, viz., a -green leather cap, with a jacket and trousers of nankeen!"[9] - -There are many recent boat club presidents who proudly show souvenirs of -love passages with every barmaid from Folly Bridge to Abingdon, and up the -Cher to Water Eaton. The fair damsels of the Cherwell Hotel are indeed the -sole reasons why hordes of Undergraduates punt out there to lunch on -Sundays, when they might just as easily, and far less expensively, take -luncheon baskets with them--as they do if their people are up! But there -is nothing original in all this. The same touch of old Adam existed in the -coffee-house period, as is shown by the following lines:-- - - "We visit Sandford next and there - Beckley provides accustomed fare - Of eels and perch and brown beef-steak.... - Whilst Hebe-like his daughter waits, - Froths our full bumpers, changes plates. - The pretty handmaid's anxious toils - Meanwhile our mutual praise beguiles, - Whilst she, delighted, blushing sees - The bill o'erpaid and pockets fees - Supplied for ribbon or for lace - To deck her bonnet or her face." - -To-day Hebe has become _blase_ and cannot blush with any readiness, nor is -she so anxious in her toils. The chaste salute and the overpaid bill are -features of our own time, and will remain, from generation to generation, -as long as Oxford is a university, and there are hotels on the Cher. The -same poet goes on to describe the way in which he was taught to sail by a -friend who was already an expert. - - "At Folly Bridge we hoist the sail, - And briskly scud before the gale - To Iffley--where our course awhile - Detain--its locks and Saxon pile - Affording pause; to recommend - The Hobby-horse unto my friend. - Our light-built galley; ours I say - Since Warren bears an equal sway - In her command; as first, in cost - The half he shared; himself a host - Whether he plies the limber oar - Or tows the vessel from the shore; - Or strains the main sheet tight astern - Close to the wind; of him I learn - Patient to wait the time exact - When jib and foresail should be back'd - To bring her round; or mark the strain - The boat on gunwale can sustain - Without aught danger of upsetting, - Or giving both her mates a wetting."[10] - -[Illustration: NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON'S STUDY AT OXFORD.] - -A glance at the statutes shows that the river was almost the only form of -athletics then permissible, for the prohibited sports included "every kind -of game in which money is concerned, such as dibs, dice, cards, cricketing -in private grounds or gardens of the townspeople ... every kind of game or -exercise from which danger, injury, or inconvenience might arise to other -people, such as hunting of beasts with any sort of dogs, ferrets, nets or -toils, also any use or carrying of muskets, cross-bows, or falchions; -neither rope-dancers nor actors, nor shows of gladiators are to be -permitted without especial sanction; moreover, the scholars are not to -play at football, nor with cudgels, either among themselves or with the -townsfolk, a practice from which the most perilous contentions have -arisen." - -During the earlier half of the century, bell ringing was a form of -amusement--and exercise--which was very largely indulged in. At any hour -of the day it was the custom to go up into the belfry and practice, with -such zest that the ringer sometimes fell from sheer exhaustion. Hearne was -known to take a keen interest in the matches which were sometimes -arranged between different peals of bells, while Antony Wood, some years -before, had joined with his mother and brothers in subscribing towards the -foundation of the Merton bells and, as Wordsworth says, "though they were -not satisfactory to the 'curious and critical hearer,' he plucked at them -often with some of his fellow-collegians for recreation sake." Later on, -however, this practice was generally voted boring and even vulgar, and the -more "aristocratic door bell and knocker ringing" succeeded it. Hearne -himself was pleased to countenance bell-ringing, yet when a proposal was -afoot to found "an academy of exercise in the university such as riding -the great horse, fencing, etc.," he would not hear of it or entertain the -idea for a moment. "I think," said he, "'twould have utterly obstructed -all true learning." - -Horses, in spite of Hearne, were popular among Dons and Undergraduates. -The "Female Student," writing a letter to _The Student_, summed up the -tastes of a Master of Arts as consisting of "the college-hall, the -common-room, the coffee-house, and now and then a ride to the -Gog-magog-hills." The now and then was probably accounted for by the -expensiveness attaching to the hobby. There were, however, several -stable-keepers at the time who, starting with a diminutive capital, -retired after a very few years in the business with large fortunes. G. V. -Cox, the member of the crew in nankeen trousers, says that it was quite a -usual thing "for a gentleman (the Oxford tradesman's designation of a -member of the university) to ride a match against time to London and back -again to Oxford (108 miles) in twelve hours or less with, of course, -relays of horses at regular intervals. In one instance this was done in -eight hours and forty-five minutes.... Betting was, no doubt, the first -and chief motive; a foolish vanity the second; the third cause was the -absence at that time in the university of a better mode of proving pluck -and taming down the animal spirits of non-reading youngsters.... Hunting -then, as now, was an expensive amusement, only to be enjoyed by the few, -and by them only for a part of the year; racing had not then been thought -of ... but a gentleman need not learn to ride like a jockey."[11] - -Sir Erasmus Philipps must, therefore, have been a monied man, for in 1720, -when he was a Fellow-commoner of Pembroke, his outdoor sports took the -form of fox-hunting, attending cock-fights and horse-races, and riding to -Woodstock, Godstow, and Nuneham. Many of the horse-races took place on -Port Meadow. Terrae Filius, referring to "that famous apartment by idle -wits and buffoons nick-named Golgotha, _i.e._, the place of Sculls or -Heads of Colleges and Halls where they meet and debate upon all -extraordinary affairs which occur within the precincts of their -jurisdiction," says that "this room of state or academical council chamber -is adorn'd with a fine pourtrait of her late Majesty Queen Anne, which was -presented to this assembly by a jolly fox-hunter in the neighbourhood, out -of the tender regard which he bore to her pious memory, and to the -reverend Sculls of the university, who preside there; for which -benefaction they have admitted him into their company, and allow him the -honour to smoak a pipe with them twice a week." - -In one of the papers of _The Loiterer_ the writer described how Dr -Villars, Mr Sensitive, and himself went for a country walk and talk to Joe -Pullen's Tree. "As soon as we had reached this elevated situation, and -cast our eyes over the well-known view, a general silence took place for -some minutes. It was indeed a day for meditation. The sun emerging by fits -and starts from the grey fleckered clouds which overspread the whole -atmosphere, illuminated the projecting points of Magdalen and Merton -Towers, and shot its lengthened gleams across the pastures and meads, -which extend themselves in a long level to the north of the city, while -the woody hills of Wytham, rising boldly from behind a flat country, threw -over the whole background a broad mass of dark shadows broken only here -and there by a white sail, whose almost imperceptible motion just marked -the various turns and windings of the river.... A large party of very -dashing men rode by, mounted on cropt ponies, and followed by no -inconsiderable number of Tarriers. Of all sorts, sizes, and colours; and -as they did not ride very fast, and talked rather loud, we easily -discovered that the object of this grand cavalcade had been a -badger-baiting on Bullingdon Green; in the event of which combat they -seemed greatly interested, and were settling the merits of their different -dogs with great clamour, and not without some altercation." The solemn -statutes did not seem to worry those optimistic sportsmen overmuch on that -glorious summer day. - -Bull-baiting and cock-fighting, both, in their time, exceedingly popular -at the university were strongly put down by the authorities. One gathers -that it was usual at these affairs to start a free fight after the show, -in which the town and gown partisans did their best to kill or maim each -other for life. All things duly considered, therefore, it was, perhaps, a -wise step on the part of the Dons to forbid such affairs. Dr Rawlinson -made a regretful reference to one of these pitched battles: "A great -disturbance between the scholars of the university and the townsmen of -Heddington at a bull-baiting, at which some scholars were beaten." -Considering the tender years of most of the freshmen it is a matter for -great congratulation that they made such good stands against the -bullet-headed townees. They could not have done so but for the fact that -boxing was much followed among 'varsity men. They were to a large extent -keen patrons of the noble art of self-defence, and the chief instructors -about the year 1729 were none other than the celebrated Broughton and -Figg, who ran a saloon in London. The fact that this boxing academy was -far away from Oxford did not preclude the keenest pugilists from -journeying up to take lessons. Amhurst came across a crowd of -Undergraduates in an Oxford coffee-house one night just after Mendoza had -won a famous victory, and he was vastly entertained to hear their keenly -excited discussion of every lead and stop and hook and counter and to see -them turning and twisting their bodies in pugilistic attitudes in -illustration of the professional manner of planting each separate blow. -They seemed to know as much about the fight as if they had been present. - -In December 1729 the Mayor of Oxford licensed a prize fight to be held in -the town. Crowds attended in the assurance of a good morning's sport, but -at the last moment the Vice-Chancellor, a book-ridden, pompous, crusty old -curmudgeon, filled with the dignity of his office, appeared on the scene -and succeeded in putting a stop to it. It was a miracle that the assembled -multitude did not tear his robes off his back and put him in the ring to -stand up to one of the bruisers. - -In spite of Hearne's prognostication that the establishment of a fencing -academy would be the death of all true learning, an academy was started -some years later by a Greek of the name of Paniotti. He was "full of -sentiments of honour and courage, and of most independent spirit." R. L. -Edgeworth was a keen pupil of Paniotti, and it was at his school that he -became friends with Sir James M'Donald, who was "one of the greatest -scholars and mathematicians of his time." Their friendship was of short -duration, however, as Sir James died at Rome some five years later. - -Edgeworth has an interesting story about this fencing establishment. "Mr -L., a young gentleman of a noble family and of abilities, but of -overbearing manners, was our fellow pupil under Paniotti. At the same -school we met a young man of small fortune, and in a subordinate position -at Maudlin. - -"He fenced in a regular way, and much better than Mr L., who, in revenge, -would sometimes take a stiff foil that our master used for parrying, and -pretending to fence, would thrust it with great violence against his -antagonist. The young man submitted for some time to this foul play, but -at last he appealed to Paniotti, and to such of his pupils as were -present. Paniotti, though he had expectancies from the patronage of the -father of his nobly-born pupil, yet without hesitation condemned his -conduct. One day, in defiance of L.'s bullying pride, I proposed to fence -with him, armed as he was with this unbending foil, on condition that he -should not thrust at my face; but at the very first opportunity he drove -the foil into my mouth. I went to the door, broke off the buttons of two -foils, turned the key in the lock, and offered one of these extemporaneous -swords to my antagonist, who very prudently declined the invitation. This -person afterwards showed through life an unprincipled and cowardly -disposition."[12] - -While on the subject of fighting it is interesting to note that there were -such things as 'varsity "bug-shooters" even in those times, whose keenness -was far greater than that of the majority of the O.U.O.T.C., who slack -through just sufficient drills to enable them to put in a fortnight's -camping in summer. G. V. Cox says that there were "enrolled about five -hundred, commanded by Mr Coker of Bicester, formerly Fellow of New -College. Such indeed was the zeal and spirit called forth in those -stirring times by the threat of invasion that even clerical members did -not hesitate to join the ranks.... Some also of the most respectable of -the college servants were enrolled with their masters.... The dress or -uniform was of a very heavy character but also very imposing: a blue coat -(rather short but somewhat more than a jacket) faced with white duck -pantaloons, with a black leathern strap or garter below the knee, and -short black cloth gaiters. The headdress was also heavy; a beaver -round-headed hat surmounted by a formidable roll of bear-skin or something -of the kind."[13] - -Several years after the above incident in Paniotti's fencing school, an -article appeared in _The Student_. It was a fantastic account of "Several -Public Buildings in Oxford never before described" and contained the -following:-- - -"The several gymnasia constructed for the exercise of our youth, and a -relaxation from their severer studies, are not so much frequented as -formerly, especially in the summer; our ingenious gownsmen having found -out several sports which conduce to the same end, such as battle-door and -shuttle-cock, swinging on the rope, etc., in their apartments; or, in the -fields, leap-frog, tag, hop-step-and-jump, and among the rest, skittles; -which last is a truly academical exercise, as it is founded on -arithmetical and geometrical principles." - -Skinner, the poet, who sailed his yacht down to Sandford and rowed in Dame -Hooper's boats, seems to have been quite an all-round man. - - "If day prove only passing fair - I walk for exercise and air - Or for an hour skate, - For a large space of flooded ground - Which Christ Church gravel walks surround - Has solid froze of late. - - "Here graceful gownsmen silent glide, - Or noisy louts on hobnails slide, - Whilst lads the confines keep - Exacting pence from every one - As payment due for labour done - As constantly they sweep." - -His touch of "side" is not unfunny--the graceful 'varsity man is a picture -of all culture, while the townee is a lout because he slides on vulgar -hobnails. On several of the bard's sailing expeditions, after they had -dined chez Beckley, and duly tipped the girl, - - "A game of quoits will oft our stay - Awhile at Sandford Inn delay; - Or rustic nine-pins; then once more - We hoist our sail, and tug the oar."[14] - -He must doubtless have looked down upon his fellow quill driver in _The -Student_ as several parts of a fool for thinking rustic nine-pins "a truly -academical exercise, as it is founded on arithmetical and geometrical -principles." - -Cricket and tennis were not of much account. The Lownger described his -going after dinner to tennis, returning in time for chapel - - "From the Coffee House then I to Tennis away, - And at six I post back to my college to pray," - -while G. V. Cox, in his "Recollections," remembered that "the game of -cricket was kept up chiefly by the young men from Winchester and Eton, and -was confined to the old Bullingdon Club, which was expensive and -exclusive. The members of it, however, with the exception of a few who -kept horses, did not mind walking to and fro."[15] - -As a rather less strenuous form of exercise than eighteenth-century -cricket many men kept themselves fit by walking. Wordsworth points out -that "in 1799 Daniel Wilson writes to his father, that very few days -passed when he did not walk for about an hour." This exceedingly gentle -form of pedestrianism was only an end of century hobby. Earlier on men -seem to have been made of sterner stuff. The Greek Professor at Aberdeen, -Dr Thomas Blackwell, wrote to Warburton at Oxford in 1736 to beg him to -accompany Middleton and their common friend, Mr Gale, in a tour in -Scotland for two months in the summer during the long vacation. "In 1742 -Tho. Townson started for a three years' tour in France, Italy, Germany, -and Holland, with Dawkins, Drake, and Holdsworth. On his return from the -continent," the quotation is from Christopher Wordsworth, "he resumed in -College (Magdalen) the arduous and respectable employment of tuition, in -which he had been engaged before he went abroad. William Wordsworth took -walking tours in France 1790-91 (at a time no less awfully interesting -than that which the country has now been passing through) before and after -taking his degree." In the first instance he was accompanied by his -college friend Robert Jones, with about twenty pounds apiece in their -pockets. "Our coats which we had made light on purpose for that journey -are of the same piece," he wrote, "and our manner of carrying our bundles -which is upon our heads, with each an oak stick in our hands, contributes -not a little to the general curiosity which we seem to excite." - -[Illustration: A DUCK HUNT.] - -Had they but carried more money and travelled in luxury they would not -have been unlike the present-day Rhodes men, whose custom it is during -vacation to scour the ends of the earth. - -Inter-college and inter-'varsity athletic meetings were undreamed of in -the eighteenth century. Because Georgian Oxford men could not boast -representative colours, however, is no proof that they were not sportsmen. -It would be impossible to find a set of men in any century more ready for -deeds of daring do. They rode straight and ate hearty. They broke rules -and defied statutes with a zest that suggests anarchism. In spite of wigs -and ruffles they sped like hares down back alleys and scaled the high -college walls like monkeys to avoid a conversation with the Proctors and -their bulldogs. They sallied forth in trencher and gown, the insignia of -their allegiance to _Alma mater_, and in sheer high spirits set themselves -to bring about a fight with the jeering townees. Back to back they fought -against all odds, recking little of bleeding noses and broken pates. If -they drank too freely and encouraged the toasts, the blame was not -entirely theirs. They did but follow the fashion of the times. Their -password was thoroughness. Whatever they did, they did with all their -might. If they rang bells, they made the air hideous until they fell -exhausted. If they collected knockers they stripped a whole street before -their energy waned. If they slacked they slacked superbly. Without any of -the advantages brought about by modern ideas and inventions, our -predecessors were sportsmen to the core and just as we to-day employ every -moment of our four years to the fullest advantage so did the men who trod -Oxford streets in wigs and laces when she was two centuries younger. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the "Lunatics"--The Constitution - Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and minutes--High - Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers. - - -Year by year the places of those who go down are filled by succeeding -generations of public school men--men who are more conservative in ideas -than the members of any other class of society. Their immediate ambitions -are limited to achieving a Blue, capturing the presidency of the Union or -winning one of the big university prizes. - -They take things as they find them, and very rarely try to launch out on -new lines. They early discover that gregariousness is one of the chief -characteristics of an Oxford man. They find it exhibited in the -extraordinary number of clubs and societies in each college. Their natural -conservatism convinces them that as the forming of clubs is co-existent -with university life, they must not hesitate to follow the admirable -example of their seniors. With the untiring enthusiasm of youth they -concentrate their brains and energies therefore to the formation of new -clubs--having already become members of a great percentage of the -long-founded university clubs which are open to them. They make the -epoch-making discovery that many of their members have cut and dried ideas -on politics, and that others are big with new theories on social -conditions and the education of the masses. Heedless of the fact that in -reality these new theories and political arguments have been discussed and -thrashed out by thousands of Oxford men before they were born, they begin -in their obsession to institute new clubs--political, musical, literary, -debating, social, poetical--clubs of all kinds and conditions. They -cultivate gregariousness, if it is not already temperamental, as one of -the cardinal virtues. They foregather in each other's rooms nightly, -consume tremendous quantities of tobacco, cake, and coffee, and abide -feverishly by every rule of the particular society of which they are the -founders. - -In the eighteenth century the men were just as fond of foregathering; but -they laboured under severe disadvantages in connection with the -authorities, who looked upon the formation of clubs and societies as -something new and consequently revolutionary and dangerous. As an instance -of the hide-bound conservatism of the moss-grown powers that were I cannot -do better than take the case of Dibdin and the "Lunatics," a club which -was inaugurated at the very end of the eighteenth century. "Several -members of several colleges (in the number of whom I was as proud as happy -to be enlisted)," wrote Dibdin, "met frequently at each other's rooms, to -talk over and to concoct a code of laws or of regulations for the -establishment of a society to be called a 'Society for Scientific and -Literary Disquisition.' It comprehended a debate and an essay, to be -prepared by each member in succession, studiously avoiding, in both, all -topics of religious and political controversy. There was not the slightest -attempt to beat down any one barrier of university law of regulation -throughout our whole code. We were to meet in a hired room, at a private -house, and were to indulge in our favourite themes in the most -unrestrained manner, without giving ingress to a single stranger. Over and -over again was each law revised, corrected, and endeavoured to be rendered -as little objectionable as possible. At length, after the final touches, -we demanded an interview with the Vice-Chancellors and Proctors; and our -founder, William George Maton, of Queen's College, Messrs Stoddart, -Whitelock, Falconer (of Christ Church, Queen's and Corpus Colleges) were -deputed to meet the great men in office, and to report accordingly. - -"Dr Wills was then Vice-Chancellor.... He received the deputation in the -most courteous manner, and requested that the laws might be left with him, -as much for his own particular and careful examination as for that of -other heads of houses or officers whom he might choose to consult. His -request was as readily complied with, and a day was appointed when the -answer of the oracle might be obtained. In about a week, according to -agreement, the same deputation was received within the library of the -Vice-Chancellor who, after solemnly returning the volume (containing the -laws) into the hands of our worthy founder, addressed them pretty nearly -in the following words: 'Gentlemen, there does not appear to be anything -in these laws subversive of academic discipline, or contrary to the -statutes of the university--but (ah, that ill-omened But!) as it is -impossible to predict how they may operate, and as innovations of this -sort, and in these times, may have a tendency which may be as little -anticipated as it may be distressing to the framers of such laws, I am -compelled, in the exercise of my magisterial authority, as -Vice-Chancellor, to interdict your meeting in the manner proposed'"--and -then one can see him ringing for the servant to show them out, with a -polite smile on his fat face, in the usual red-tape manner. As, however, -the deputation was prepared for something of this sort they merely retired -politely, breathing murders and slaughterings against the archaism of the -institution of Vice-Chancellor. Returning to their room, they came to the -conclusion that as they did not intend to be beaten "there was, -therefore, one result to adopt--one choice left; and that was, to carry -the object, so dear to our hearts, into effect within our private -apartments in rotation. There we might discuss, debate, and hear essays -read _ad infinitum_; and, accordingly, our first meeting took place in -Queen's College, at the rooms of our founder, afterwards so long and so -well known in the medical world as Dr Maton."[16] - -After this preliminary check from the Vice-Chancellor, who, in charity be -it said, probably could not help himself, and was only doing his duty -according to his lights, the club throve like a bay tree and became -exceedingly famous. "Our society was quickly enlarged, and the present -Bishop of Llandaff, then a student of Corpus College, and the Rev. John -Horseman, afterwards a tutor in the same college, were enrolled members. -The two Moncrieffs of Baliol were also among our earlier acquisitions, and -some gentlemen commoners of Trinity College (whose name I have forgotten) -together with my oldest, and among my most valued friends, Mr Barwis of -Queen's, Mr Gibson (afterwards called Riddell) of Worcester, and George -Foster of Lincoln--all united to give strength and respectability to our -association. Our meetings were frequent and full. The essays after having -been read, were entered in a book; and I am not sure whether, at this very -day, such book be not in existence. The subjects of debate usually were, -as of old they ever had been, whether the merits or demerits of such a -character (Caesar or Queen Elizabeth, for instance) were the greater? Or -whether the good or evil of such a measure in legislation or in politics, -the more predominent. Of our speakers, the elder Moncrieff, and George -Forster of Lincoln were doubtless the most fluent and effective; -especially the latter, who had a fervency of utterance which was at times -surprising. But the younger Moncrieff, in course of time, followed his -brother, _passibus aequis_. Taking the art of speaking and the composition -of an essay together, I think Mr (now Sir John) Stoddart of Christ Church -beat us all. He was always upon his legs, a fearless opponent, and in the -use of a pen the most unpremeditating and successful.... - -"Meanwhile the fame of our club, or society, began to be noised abroad; -and those who felt no inclination to write essays, or to impose upon -themselves the toil of reading and research for the purpose of making a -speech, were pretty free in using sneering epithets, and in stigmatising -by nicknames. There was, however, _one_ nickname which we instantly and -courageously took to ourselves and adopted--and that was the 'Lunatics.' -Mad, indeed we were, and desired so to be called--if an occasional -deviation from dull and hard drinking, frivolous gossip, and Boeotian -uproar, could justify that appellation." - -Undoubtedly the origin of present-day first year societies, which, unlike -the "Lunatics," are nearly always ephemeral affairs, may be found in the -recollections of Richard Graves, in which, referring to William Shenstone, -he says, "Our more familiar acquaintance commenced by an invitation from -Mr Shenstone to breakfast at his chambers, which we accepted; and which, -according to the sociable disposition of most young people, was protracted -to a late hour; during which, Mr Shenstone, I remember, in order to detain -us, produced Cotton's 'Virgil Travestie,' which he had lately met with; -and which, though full of indelicacies and low humour, is certainly a most -laughable performance. I displayed my slender stock of critical knewledge -by applauding, as a work of equal humour, Echard's 'Causes of the Contempt -of the Clergy.' Mr Whistler, who was a year or two older than either of -us, I believe, and had finished his school education at Eton, preferred -Pope's 'Rape of the Lock,' as a higher species of humour than anything we -had produced. In short, this morning's lounge, which seemed mutually -agreeable, was succeeded by frequent repetitions of them; and at length, -by our meeting likewise, almost every evening, at each other's chambers -the whole summer, where we read plays and poetry, _Spectators_ and -_Tatlers_, and other works of easy digestion, and sipped Florence -wine."[17] - -There were many famous clubs in the eighteenth century, each of which had -an individuality of its own. Just as the "Lunatics" was literary and -debating, the Constitution Club was political and aggressive, the Oxford -Poetical Club considered itself really poetical, and the High Borlace was -purely social and jovial. - -The Constitution Club had its headquarters at the King's Head Tavern in -the High. Its members "included five fellows, a chaplain and four -gentlemen commoners of New College, one gentleman commoner and seven -others of Oriel, three of Christ Church; Hart Hall, Worcester, All Souls, -Merton, St John's, Trinity, and Wadham contributed at least one member -each--usually a gentleman commoner."[18] The motives of its institution -were, according to Amhurst, as follows: "The society took its rise from -the iniquity of the times, and was intended to promote and cultivate -friendship between all such persons as favour'd our present happy -constitution; they thought themselves obliged openly and publickly to avow -their loyalty, and manifest their sincere affection to King George upon -all proper and becoming occasions, and to check, as much as in them lay, -the vast torrent of treason and dissaffection which overflow'd the -university. They thought it their duty to show all possible marks of -respect to those faithful officers, who were so seasonably sent to that -place, by the favour of the government, to protect the quiet part of -the king's subjects, and to suppress the tumultuary practices of the -profess'd enemies to his majesty's person and government; and for -constantly adhering to what they thought their duty in those points; and -for no other cause, that they can apprehend, they have been so unfortunate -as to become obnoxious to the university, and to feel, many of them, the -severe effects of their resentments." - -[Illustration: A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE.] - -How much truth there is in this account of the lofty aims and patriotic -ambitions of this club, and whether Amhurst was one of the St John's men -who were members, and consequently had his facts first hand, or whether it -is merely an account written round one or two of the club's actions, it is -impossible to ascertain. At any rate Amhurst seems to have dropped his -sarcasm, and to have written straightforwardly and sincerely on their -behalf. So that it is only fair to conclude that they had these objects, -more or less, in view. In proof of his statements Christopher Wordsworth -tells us that "on the king's birthday, the 28th of May aforesaid, the -whole body of the Constitution Club met together at a tavern and ordered -the windows of the house to be illuminated, and some faggots to be -prepared for a bonfire. But before the bonfire could be lighted, a very -numerous mob, which was hired for that purpose, tore to pieces the -faggots, and then assaulted the room where the club was sitting, with -brickbats and stones. All the time that the mob was thus employed, the -disaffected scholars, who had crowded the houses and streets near the -tavern, continued throwing up their caps and scattering money amongst the -rabble and shouting, 'Down with the Constitutioners; down with the Whigs; -no George; James for ever; Ormond, Bolingbroke,' etc.... The -Constitutioners thought it prudent to make the best of their way to their -colleges for the night. On the Sunday the club met again at Oriel, and -were the objects of the indignation of the mob, who thronged the streets -at six o'clock. A Brasenose man was wounded by a gunshot fired by one of -the Constitutioners, or their friends in Oriel, after which the crowd -retired to pull down the conventicles." (This account of the affair is -given as being less biassed than Amhurst's, which, in substance, is -identical, but does not tally in one or two details.) - -The fat was consequently sizzling noisily in the fire. The whole place -discussed nothing else for days. Prosecutions were hourly made in the -Vice-Chancellor's court. The grand jury of Oxfordshire made a -"presentment" in no ordered terms against the Constitutioners, who also -met with "unjust and scandalous usage" in St Mary's, Golgotha, the -Theatre, Convocation House, and the Schools, which all rang with -"invectives and anathemas against them.... Even those grave tools, the -Vice-Chancellor and Proctors, to enliven their dull harangues, and gain -the applause of the subordinate rabble, never fail'd, in their most solemn -speeches before the convocation, to fall foul and heavy on the -Constitution Club." The noise of the affair reached as far as the ears of -the King himself, and "rattling letters" were sent to the Vice-Chancellor. - -The Oxford Poetical Club was very famous in 1721. To obtain any accurate -idea of its constitution and objects it is necessary to strike the happy -mean between the accounts of it which are given by Amhurst and Erasmus -Philipps. The latter recorded in his diary that on 17th August of that -year he "went with Mr Tristram to the Poetical Club (whereof he is a -member) at the Tuns, kept by Mr Broadgate, where met Dr Evans, Fellow of -St John's, and Mr Jno. Jones, Fellow of Balliol, members of the club. -Subscribed 5s. to Dr Evans's 'Hymen and Juno' (which one merrily call'd -Evans's Bubble, it being now South Sea Time). Drank Galicia wine, and was -entertained with two Fables of the Doctor's composition, which were indeed -masterly in their kind; but the Doctor is allowed to have a peculiar -knack, and to excell all mankind at a Fable."[19] - -Amhurst, by no means a respecter of persons, devoted two papers to -ridiculing the poetry club, from which I cull the following: "Divers -eminent and most ingenious gentlemen, true lovers and judges of poetry, -having with great grief observ'd that noble art declining in Oxford (its -antient seat and fountain) resolv'd, if possible, to restore it to its -pristine vigour and glory. They justly apprehended, both from reason and -experience, that a critical lecture, once a term, though never so -judicious, was not sufficient; and that the theory of any art was -defective without the practice; and, therefore, they thought the best -method to forward this design would be to institute a weekly meeting of -the finest geniuses and _beaux esprits_ of the university, at a certain -place, to be appointed by them, where they might debate the cause of -poetry, and put its laws into regular execution. This proposal was -immediately assented to; and the next question was, where to meet? - -"This occasioned a short debate, some speaking in favour of the King's -Head, and some declaring for the Crown; but they were both opposed by -others, who presum'd that the Three Tuns would suit them much better; in -which they carry'd their point, and the Three Tuns was thereupon nominated -the place of meeting, upon these two proviso's, that Mr Broadgate would -keep good wine and a pretty wench at the bar; both which are by all -criticks allow'd to be of indispensable use in poetical operations." - -The alleged cause of this picturesque enumeration of imaginary details -was that several poems had appeared at that time in the newspapers with -the public sanction of the club. Terrae Filius immediately began to puzzle -his brain as to the membership of the club and its intentions. For a time -he admitted himself entirely baffled, but at last "chance, almighty -chance," prospered his wishes. As the result of his enquiries he -discovered the rules of the society to be:-- - -"1. That no person be admitted a member of this society, without Letters -Testimonial, to be sign'd by three persons of credit, that he has -distinguished himself in some tale, catch, sonnet, epigram, madrigal, -anagram, acrostick, tragedy, comedy, farce, or epick poem. - -"2. That no person be admitted a member of this society, who has any -visible way of living, or can spend five shillings per annum _de proprio_; -it being an established maxim, that no rich man can be a good poet. - -"3. That no member presume to discover the secrets of this society to any -body whatsoever, upon pain of expulsion. - -"4. That no member in any of his lucubrations do transgress the rules of -Aristotle, or any other sound critick, antient or modern, under pain of -having his said lucubrations burnt, in a full club, by the hands of the -small-beer drawer. - -"5. That no member do presume in any of his writings, to reflect on the -Church of England, as by law established, or either of the two famous -universities, or upon any magistrate or member of the same under pain of -having his said writings burnt as aforesaid and being himself expell'd. - -"6. That no tobacco be smoked in this society; the fumigation thereof -being supposed to cloud the poetical faculty, and to clog the subtle -wheels of the Imagination. - -"7. That no member do repeat any verses, without leave first had and -obtained from Mr President. - -"8. That no person be allowed above the space of one hour at a time to -repeat. - -"9. That no person do print any of his verses, without the approbation of -the major part of the society, under pain of expulsion. - -"10. That every member do subscribe his name to the foregoing articles." - -These rules, before finally settled upon, had been fully discussed. A -member, by name Dr Crassus, took strong objection to the smoking rule -because he was covered with a superfluity of adipose tissue, and held that -the use of tobacco "would carry off those noxious heavy particles which -turn the edge of his fancy, and obstruct his intellectual perspiration." -He was backed up by a medical friend, and the result was that a special -exception was made in his sole favour. A second gentleman said that he -could not declare with a "safe conscience" that he was unable to spend -five shillings per annum _de proprio_; but the President ably settled the -point by observing that "as God is the sole author and disposer of all -Things, we cannot in strict sense, call any thing our own; nor say that we -have any visible way of living, our daily bread being the only bounty of -His invisible hand, and therefore you may, _salva conscientia_, declare -that you have no visible way of living; and that you cannot spend five -shillings per annum _de proprio_, though according to vain human -computation, you are worth five thousand pounds a year." The final -objection raised, before the rules were at last suitably framed and hung -over the mantelpiece in the club-room, was that one of the gentlemen could -not subscribe to Rule 10. He could not write, and therefore could not -comply with the strict letter of the law. If, however, he could be allowed -to make his mark, the whole difficulty could be settled out of hand. This -was agreed to without hesitation, "it being truly no uncommon Thing in -many an excellent poet." - -Not content with thus pouring ridicule upon their foundation and -institution, Amhurst, in his subsequent paper in which he described their -first meeting absolutely surpassed himself at their expense. - - MINUTES OF THE OXFORD POETICAL CLUB. - - "The members being met, and Mr President having assum'd the chair, - three preliminary bumpers pass'd round the board; after which Dr - Crassus, in pursuance of the power granted him, as mentioned in our - last, retir'd to a snug corner of the room where a little table was - placed for him, with pipes and tobacco upon it; then the doctor - handled his Arms; and as he was glazing his pipe with a Ball of - superfine wax, which he always carried in his pocket for that use, he - alarm'd the room with a sudden peal of laughter, which drew the eyes - of the assembly towards him, and made all of them very solicitous to - know the conceit which occasioned it; but the doctor was not, for - several minutes, able to do it, the fit continuing upon him, and - growing louder and louder; at last, when it began to intermit, he made - a shift to reveal the cause of his mirth thus:-- - - "'Why, gentlemen,' said he,--'ha! ha! ha!--why, gentlemen, I say the - prettiest Epigram! ha! ha! ha! I cannot tell you for my life--I have - made, I say, upon this ball of wax here, ha! ha! ha!--that you ever - heard in your lives. Shall I repeat it, Mr President?' - - "'By all means, doctor,' said he; 'no body more proper to open the - assembly than Doctor Crassus!' - - "Then the doctor compos'd his countenance, and standing up, with the - ball of wax in his right hand, pronounc'd the following distich with - an heroick emphasis. - - "'This wax, d'ye see, with which my pipe I glaze, - Is the best wax I ever us'd in all my days.' - - "'Ha! ha! ha! How d'ye like it, gentlemen ha! ha! ha! Is it not very - pretty gentlemen?' - - "'Very pretty, without flattery, doctor,' said they all; 'very - excellent, indeed.' - - "Upon which the doctor smiled pleasantly, and lighted his pipe.... - During the first part of the night their thoughts were something - gloomy and run upon elegies and epitaphs upon living as well as dead - men; but you will find them brighten up as the night advance and the - bottles increase. They begin with satire and funeral lamentation; but - end with love, smuttiness and a song"--and there I will leave them. - -The High Borlace was a Tory club which, says Christopher Wordsworth, "had -a convivial meeting held annually at the King's Head Tavern in Oxford, on -the 18th of August (or, if that fell on a Sunday, on the 19th, as in -1734), on which occasion Dr Leigh, Master of Balliol, was of the High -Borlace and the first clergyman who had attended. It seems to have been -patronised by the county families, and it is not improbable that there was -a ball connected with it. The members chose a Lady Patroness: in 1732 Miss -Stonhouse; 1733, Miss Molly Wickham of Garsington; 1734 Miss Anne Cope, -daughter of Sir Jonathan Cope of Bruern." - -In the _Gentleman's Magazine_ in the year 1765 there was the following -reference: "Monday Aug. 19, was held at the Angel inn, at Oxford, the High -Borlase, when Lady Harriott Somerset was chosen Lady Patroness for the -year ensuing." - -Of other smaller clubs there were the Freecynics in 1737, which Dr -Rawlinson describes as "a kind of Philosophical Club who have a set of -symbolical words and grimaces, unintelligible to any but those of their -own society," and the Nonsense Club, founded by George Coleman, Bonnel -Thornton and Lloyd about 1750. The latter would seem from its name to be a -revival of the earlier Banterers existing almost a century before, who are -described by Wood as "a set of scholars so-called, some M.A., who make it -their employment to talk at a venture, lye, and prate what nonsense they -please, if they see a man talk seriously they talk floridly nonsense, and -care not what he says; this is like throwing a cushion at a man's head -that pretends to be grave and wise." Although Coleman assisted to found -the Nonsense Club he makes no reference to it in his reminiscences, so it -is more than probable that it was merely the whim of a term or so. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen--The - "Vindication"--Opposing and responding--"Schemes"--Doing - austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents--Magdalen collections. - - -Nowadays work is a factor in university life which has to be seriously -reckoned with. However strong one's intentions to do none, however -convinced one may be of the complete absurdity and futility of cramming -dull stuff for no apparent good reasons, when there is such a glorious -time to be had doing nothing in the mornings and "sweating" at athletics -in the afternoons, yet the Dons have of late acquired a foolish habit of -sending a man down unless he succeeds in scraping through certain -examinations. - -They feel it to be essential, through some misguided feeling of duty, to -harry the athlete and outdoor man, and at certain periods, even, to hound -him in white tie, and as much gown as he can lay hands on, to the schools, -and if, on his final exit from their clutches, they are not satisfied with -the results of his cramming, they invert their thumbs and down he goes! It -matters not whether he be merely a humble eightsman or the all-important -President of the Boat Club. The examiners are no respecters of persons, -and fear no man nor beast. The athlete retires willy nilly. - -How different were the Dons' views in Georgian times! Amhurst, serious for -once, declared that the keynote of the century was tolerated ignorance. He -made the statement boldly in the face of the high reputation of the Dons -for learning and classical knowledge, in defiance of the wrath of the -entire university. He was justified in making such an assertion, and I -have tried to prove the truth of his words in the course of this chapter. - -"A gentleman commoner," he said, "if he be a man of fortune, is soon told -that it is not expected from one of his form to mind exercises; if he is -studious, he is morose, and a heavy bookish fellow; if he keeps a cellar -of wine, the good natur'd fellows will indulge him, tho' he should be too -heavy-headed to be at chapel in the morning." - -In proof of this assertion I will take the case, from a sheaf of others, -of Mr Harris, afterwards Lord Malmesbury, who was an Undergraduate of -Merton in 1763. "The discipline of the university happened also at this -particular moment to be so lax," he wrote, "that a gentleman -commoner"--and it would seem not to be of great moment whether he had -riches or not--"was under no restraint, and never called upon to attend -either lectures, or chapel, or hall. My tutor, an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practise of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to be taught trigonometry. The set of men with whom -I lived were very pleasant but very idle fellows. Our life was an -imitation of high life in London." The entire lack of compulsion to work, -however, did not by any means cause Harris and his friends to dwindle into -mere "wasters." From that little coterie eventually emerged Charles Fox -and William Eden. - -Gibbon, the historian of world-wide renown, never did one stroke of work -while at Magdalen, nor was he ever asked, with any firmness, to do so. In -his much discussed reminiscences he set down that "some duties may -possibly have been imposed on the poor scholars, whose ambition aspired to -the peaceful honours of a scholarship; but no independent members were -admitted below the rank of gentleman commoner, and our velvet cap was the -cap of liberty." Commenting upon the prevailing slackness of tutors, -Gibbon quoted his own experiences. The learned doctor to whose care he was -first confided, described as "one of the best of the tribe," had suggested -that Gibbon should read the comedies of Terence every morning with him. -"During the first weeks," wrote Gibbon, "I constantly attended these -lessons in my tutor's rooms; but as they appeared equally devoid of profit -and pleasure, I was once tempted to try the experiment of a formal -apology. The apology was accepted with a smile. I repeated the offence -with less ceremony; the excuse was admitted with the same indulgence; the -slightest motive of laziness or indisposition, the most trifling avocation -at home or abroad, was allowed as a worthy impediment; nor did my tutor -appear conscious of my absence or neglect.... No plan of study was -recommended for my use; no exercises were prescribed for his inspection; -and at that most precious season of youth, whole days and weeks were -suffered to elapse, without labour or amusement, without advice or -account."[20] - -Such was the sum total of Gibbon's relations with that worthy and -excellent man, for, the following term, he found on his arrival, that he -had departed from the college and that another tutor was installed in his -place. Of his connection with this second tutor the Magdalen man wrote as -follows: "Instead of guiding the studies, and watching over the behaviour -of his disciple, I was never summoned to attend even the ceremony of a -lecture; and, excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms, during the eight -months of his titular office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same -college as strangers to each other." These accusations against the -Magdalen discipline have been most heatedly "vindicated" by the Rev. -James Hurdis, who declared it to have been more Gibbon's fault than the -Dons' that he was not looked after, because he gave flippant excuses which -he dubbed formal apologies, and had not the patience to continue the -course of lectures arranged and delivered by his tutors. - -These vindicatory arguments do not hold water. All men will evade -authority if they can. Therefore it is surely the place of the tutor to -put his foot down and issue orders instead of letting his pupil wander at -will and do no work. - -In all the many descriptions of a day in the life of a Smart, or an -ordinary gentleman commoner, or the river man, no references are to be -found as to their doing any work. On the contrary, Skinner said that -"Aristotle has been deserted for the bottle," and launched into -descriptions of the empty schools. With tutors who considered politics and -consequent individual preferment of far greater importance than the mere -conning of pupils' work, it is not to be wondered at that the only men who -did any work were those who were "bookish" by nature and preferred a quiet -studious life to one of revelry and slacking. For the most part these -worked independently of Dons, entirely of their own volition. As far as a -good degree went, it was utterly useless; for the method of passing -university examinations was, to put it mildly, a farce. The veracity of -Vicesimus Knox is not for one moment to be questioned, so that the -following account may be taken as a fair example of the customs of the -times. - -"The youth, whose heart pants for the honour of a Bachelor of Arts degree, -must wait patiently till near four years have revolved. But this time is -not to be spent idly. No; he is obliged, during this period, once to -oppose, and once to respond, in disputations held in the public schools--a -formidable sound and a dreadful idea; but, on closer attention, the fear -will vanish, and contempt supply its place. This opposing and responding -is termed, in the cant of the place, _doing generals_. Two boys, or men, -as they call themselves, agree to do generals together. The first step in -this mighty work is to procure arguments. These are always handed down, -from generation to generation, on long slips of paper, and consist of -foolish syllogisms on foolish subjects; of the formation or the -signification of which the respondent and opponent seldom know more than -an infant in swaddling clothes. The next step is to go for a _liceat_ to -one of the petty officers, called the Regent Master of the Schools, who -subscribes his name to the questions and receives sixpence as his fee. -When the important day arrives, the two doughty disputants go into a large -dusty room, full of dirt and cobwebs, with walls and wainscot decorated -with the names of former disputants, who to divert the tedious hours cut -out their names with their penknives, or wrote verses with a pencil. Here -they sit in mean desks, opposite to each other, from one o'clock till -three. Not once in a hundred times does any officer enter; and, if he -does, he hears one syllogism or two, and then makes a bow, and departs, as -he came and remained, in solemn silence. The disputants then return to the -amusement of cutting the desks, carving their names, or reading Sterne's -'Sentimental Journey,' or some other edifying novel. When this exercise is -duly performed by both parties, they have a right to the title and -insignia of Sophs; but not before they have been formally created by one -of the regent-masters.... This work done, a great progress is made towards -the wished-for honour of a Bachelor's degree. There remain only one or two -trifling forms, and another disputation, almost exactly similar to doing -generals, but called _answering under bachelor_, previous to the awful -examination. Every candidate is obliged to be examined in the whole -circle of the sciences by three Masters of Arts _of his own choice_. The -examination is to be held in one of the public schools, and to continue -from nine o'clock till eleven. The masters take a most solemn oath, that -they will examine properly and impartially. Dreadful as all this appears, -there is always found to be more of appearance in it than reality, for the -greatest dunce usually gets his _testimonium_ signed with as much ease and -credit as the finest genius. The manner of proceeding is as follows: The -poor young man to be examined in the sciences often knows no more of them -than his bedmaker, and the masters who examine are sometimes equally -unacquainted with such mysteries. But _schemes_, as they are called, or -little books, containing forty or fifty questions on each science, are -handed down, from age to age, from one to another. The candidate to be -examined employs three or four days in learning these by heart, and the -examiners, having done the same before him when they were examined, know -what questions to ask, and so all goes on smoothly. When the candidate has -displayed his universal knowledge of the sciences, he is to display his -skill in philology. One of the masters, therefore, desires him to construe -a passage in some Greek or Latin classic, which he does with no -interruption, just as he pleases, and as well as he can. The statutes next -require that he should translate familiar English phrases into Latin. And -now is the time when the masters show their wit and jocularity. Droll -questions are put on any subject, and the puzzled candidate furnishes -diversion by his awkward embarrassment. I have known the questions on this -occasion to consist of an enquiry into the pedigree of a race-horse.... -This familiarity, however, only takes place when the examiners are pot -companions of the candidate, which indeed is usually the case; for it is -reckoned good management to get acquainted with two or three jolly young -Masters of Arts and supply them well with port, previously to the -examination. If the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors happen to enter the -school, a very uncommon event, then a little solemnity is put on, very -much to the confusion of the masters, as well as of the boy, who is -sitting in the little box opposite them. As neither the officer, nor any -one else usually enters the room (for it is reckoned very _ungenteel_) the -examiners and the candidates often converse on the last drinking bout, or -on horses, or read the newspaper, or a novel, or divert themselves as well -as they can in any manner till the clock strikes eleven, when all parties -descend, and the _testimonium_, is signed by the masters. With this -_testimonium_ in his possession the candidate is sure of success. The day -in which the honour is to be conferred arrives; he appears in the -Convocation House, he takes an abundance of oaths, pays a sum of money in -fees, and, after kneeling down before the Vice-Chancellor, and whispering -a lie, rises up a Bachelor of Arts."[21] - -In order, therefore, to obtain the coveted privilege of going in for all -these learned and difficult examinations, an Undergraduate had to calm his -impatience and enjoy himself as best he could for four years. Then, having -succeeded in getting himself fairly comfortably in debt, having learned -how to string off a sonnet to the reigning toast and drink himself under -the table, he was esteemed ripe for the whispering of a lie, and was -conveniently fitted out with a degree. What more simple? - -"And now, if he aspires at higher honours (and what emulous spirit can sit -down without aspiring at them?) new labours and new difficulties are to be -encountered during the space of three years. He must _determine_ in Lent, -he must _do quodlibets_, he must _do austens_, he must declaim twice, he -must read six solemn lectures, and he must be again examined in the -sciences, before he can be promoted to the degree of Master of Arts. None -but the initiated can know what _determining_, doing _quodlibets_, and -doing _austens_ mean. I have not room to enter into a minute description -of such contemptible minutiae. Let it be sufficient to say, that these -exercises consist of disputations of syllogisms, procured and uttered -nearly in the same places, time, and manner, as we have already seen them -in doing generals. There is, however, a great deal of trouble in little -formalities, such as procuring sixpenny _liceats_, sticking up the names -on the walls, sitting in large empty rooms by yourself, or with some poor -wight as ill-employed as yourself, without anything to say or do, wearing -hoods and a little piece of lambskin wool on it, and a variety of other -particulars too tedious and too trifling to enumerate." - -The eighteenth-century lad became an Undergraduate on condition of -subscribing to a lie, and was sent down as a not undistinguished man after -seven years by pronouncing another in the ear of the Vice-Chancellor. - -"As university degrees are supposed to be badges of learning and merit, -there ought to be some qualifications requisite to wear them, besides -perjury, and treason, and paying a multitude of fees, which seem to be the -three principal things insisted upon in our universities," said Terrae -Filius--and the persistent joker spoke never a truer word. While -discussing the same question with some bitterness he asserted that a -schoolboy has done more learned things for his breaking-up task than were -required of an Oxford man after seven years' residence. He more than bore -out Knox's words as to the custom of making one's examiner drunk and so -avoiding the irksome necessity of being asked awkward questions by him. -"It is also well known," he wrote, "to be the custom for the candidates -either to present their examiners with a piece of gold, or to give them an -handsome entertainment, and make them drunk; which they commonly do the -night before examination, and sometimes keep them till morning, and so -adjourn, cheek by joul, from their drinking-room to the school where they -are to be examined. _Quaere_, whether it would not be very ungrateful of -the examiner to refuse any candidate a _testimonium_ who has treated him -so splendidly over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail'd -upon by bribes?" - -So that in addition to making him drunk and incapable, but not -disorderly--necessarily--the astute candidate, realising that the degree's -the thing, paid him a metaphorical thirty pieces of silver for his -betrayal. Moreover, the collectors, that is to say the Dons who were in -control of the determining, decided the days upon which the candidates -were to present themselves. On certain days called "gracious" days, the -examiners were only required to stay in the schools for half the usual -time. The consequence was, explained Terrae, "The collectors having it in -their power to dispose of all the schools and days in what manner they -please, are very considerable persons, and great application is made to -them for gracious days and good schools; but especially to avoid being -posted or dogg'd, which commonly happens to be their lot who have no money -in their pockets." - -The statues of course forbade collectors to receive presents, but a wink -is as good as a nod, and it was customary for every determiner upon -presenting himself to give the collector a "broad or half a broad." In -return for this douceur "Mr Collector," said Amhurst, "entertains his -benefactors with a good supper and as much wine as they can drink, besides -gracious days and commodious schools. I have heard that some collectors -have made four score or an hundred guineas of this place." - -The conclusion which is inevitably arrived at is that the examinations -for, and in fact the whole question of obtaining a degree, were a farce -and a sham, and that the authorities cared little who got one so long as -they received their fees and were left in peace to smoke and tope in the -common rooms. - -The attendance at college exercises seems to have been equally dilatory. -Gibbon said that the Magdalen College exercises were futile and a waste of -time. He was tacitly allowed to stay away from them. The vindicator of -Magdalen, thinking to nail Gibbon down, went to the trouble of enumerating -term by term the exercises which the Undergraduates were supposed to -perform. As interesting reading it is worthy of quotation, but as a _coup -de grace_ to Gibbon it is absurd. If all Magdalen men were bound to -attend, why was Gibbon allowed to absent himself, or, if not allowed, why -was he not hauled over the coals?--and it is ridiculous to suppose that -Gibbon's example was not followed by scores of fellow collegians. The -present-day "colleckers," held terminally, are, more or less, in the -nature of a joke, but in those days, in spite of Hurdis's burning loyalty -to Magdalen, the following exercises which correspond to them are -fearsome-sounding enough, but were more often than not unattended. "At the -end of every term, from his admission till he takes his first degree, -every individual Undergraduate of this college must appear at a _public -examination_ before the President, Vice-President, Deans, and whatever -Fellows may please to attend; and cannot obtain leave to return to his -friends in any vacation, till he has properly acquitted himself according -to the following scheme. - -"In his _first_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first term, in _Sallust_ and the _Characters of Theophrastus_. - - "In the second Term, in the first six books of Virgil's _Aeneis_ and - the first three books of Xenophon's _Anabasis_. - - "In the third Term, in the last six books of the _Aeneis_ and the last - four books of the _Anabasis_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the Gospels of St Matthew and St Mark, on - which sacred books the persons examined are always called upon to - produce a collection of observations from the best commentators. - -[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN.] - -"During his _second_ year, the Undergraduate must make himself a -proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in Caesar's _Commentaries_, and the first six books - of Homer's _Iliad_. - - "In the second Term, in _Cicero de Oratore_, and the second six books - of the _Iliad_. - - "In the third Term, in _Cicero de Officiis_ and the _Dion Hal. de - structura Orationis_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the gospels of St Luke and St John, producing - a collection of observations from commentators as at the end of the - first year. - -"During his _third_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in the first six books of Livy and Xenophon's - _Cyropaedia_. - - "In the second Term, in Xenophon's _Memorabilia_, and in Horace's - Epistles and Art of Poetry. - - "In the third Term, in _Cicero de natura Deorum_, and in the first, - third, eighth, tenth, thirteenth and fourteenth of Juvenal's - _Satires_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the first four epistles of St Paul, producing - collections as before. - -"During his _fourth_ and last year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in the first six books of the 'Annals of Tacitus,' - and in the _Electra_ of Sophocles. - - "In the second Term, in Cicero's 'Orations' against Catilina, and in - those of Ligarius and Archias; and also in those Orations of - Demosthenes which are contained in Mounteney's edition. - - "In the third Term, in the 'Dialogues' of Plato published by Dr - Forster, and in the _Georgics_ of Virgil. - - "In the fourth Term, in the remaining ten Epistles of St Paul and the - Epistles general, producing collections as before." - -The above is undoubtedly a little programme guaranteed to keep the average -Undergraduate fairly busy in the use of midnight oil. But--how odd it is -that there is ever a "but"--the excited vindicator rather spoilt matters -and lessened the terrors of the programme by stating in his preliminary -paragraph that only those Dons were present "who may please to attend!" -Having digested already some few facts concerning the habits and hobbies -of the eighteenth-century Don, as well as the liberty accorded to -gentlemen commoners, there is no need to waste sympathy on "every -individual Undergraduate" of Magdalen. He merely lowered the right eyelid, -tapped the left nostril with the left index digit and "obtained leave to -return to his friends in any Vacation," with the greatest ease and speed -and the most cordial of farewells to the President, Vice-President, Deans, -and any of the Fellows who cared to attend. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -'VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson's _Oxford Journal_--Domestic - intelligence--Election poems--Curious advertisements--Superabundance - of St John's editors--Terrae Filius. - - -There is some indefinable element in the atmosphere of Oxford which has -always excited an itch for writing. The sister university can, of course, -point to many sons whose names stand high in the literary firmament, but -they do not amount to a tithe of the number of great writers who have -passed through Oxford. Oxford may be the home of lost causes, but she is -also the cradle for infant pens. Generations of pens splutter their first -incoherencies behind the comparative shelter of the city walls through -which the harsh criticism of maturer writers cannot penetrate. In stilted -phraseology and doubtful grammar they cover numberless sheets with -emotional outpourings. There may be future literary geniuses hidden among -them, but from those early imitative strivings it is difficult to single -out even one. They are novices who humbly apprentice themselves to the -profession of letters. From time to time some quite brilliant piece of -work throws up more vividly the amateurishness of the rest. Such meteoric -flashes are, however, rare, and thus the general standard does not rise -above mediocrity. It is because all Undergraduate pens are very young and -inexperienced that the present-day 'varsity papers can make no claim to -literary distinction. To their credit be it said that they do not. They -are content to remain just 'varsity papers--which is synonymous with -saying that they are either tediously over-academic or peculiarly inane; -that their light articles are excellent imitations of the halfpenny comic -papers, that their serious efforts are most praiseworthy for their -capacity for inflicting boredom, and that their editorials border upon the -inept. - -It is not an unknown thing for a present-day Undergraduate paper, which is -supposedly conducted _by_ Undergraduates _for_ Undergraduates to be owned -and financed by a local tradesman. He, being thus in supreme command, -maintains a private blue pencil, and, obsessed by the idea that because he -sells pens and inks he is therefore a man of parts and literary -consideration, rules the poor devil of an Undergraduate editor with a rod -of iron. What is the result? It is that the average 'varsity paper is -composed of childish leaders edited by the financier; a series of vastly -foolish and unentertaining remarks which may or may not have been heard in -the Broad; pages of notes which are half-frightened comments on the week's -doings written invariably by critics who have not sufficient pluck to say -that they consider the person or thing under criticism to be either -thoroughly bad or supremely excellent; a mawkish account of the speeches -delivered in the Union Society's Debates, written with the condescending -patronage of the old stager, by some self-satisfied ex-official, himself a -thoroughly bad speaker and so totally unqualified to criticise; a -collection of dramatic criticisms of the bi-weekly pieces at the New -Theatre, scribbled by some musical comedy enthusiast who, in addition to a -total ignorance of the drama, has been warned by the financier of the -paper to say nice things however bad the play or the acting in order to -secure free seats from the theatre; and, lastly, a fulsome and -objectionably personal article which purports to be a biography of a -well-known Oxford man. - -Perhaps under these Gilbertian conditions it is no wonder that the -literary efforts of Georgian times put those of the present to shame. In -the eighteenth century university journals were at least independent. They -looked for no pecuniary assistance from local ironmongers or haberdashers. -The consequence is that although the contributors were beginners whose -efforts were the result of the itch for writing brought on by that -indefinable element which was in the atmosphere of Oxford then as now, -their work was unhampered by any outside considerations. The literary -standard was not of the highest order. How could it be when the writers -were lads varying from eighteen to twenty years of age? It was, however, -higher than that of to-day. On turning over the various 'varsity papers of -two centuries ago, an uncomfortable sensation of that most unusual -emotion--humility--inevitably results, because there is undoubtedly found -in them much that is witty, fearless, original, vivid, and entertaining. - -In those days the editor drew up a scheme for running his paper, and -adhered to it in defiance of Don and man. Now, however, in his frantic -efforts to keep life in his moribund sheet, the editor does not see that -his copy is good and worth printing, copy guaranteed to sell largely. That -is not the idea. The only way to secure financial soundness is, he finds, -to pander to the advertisers by the shifty method of writing puffs for -cigarettes, soaps, wines, and so on, in a column which bears a disguised -and misleading heading, and which is an insult to the intelligence of his -youngest reader. - -In analysing the university journals of the eighteenth century I will -begin with the year 1753, when the inhabitants of Oxford and the -surrounding counties were enlivened by Jackson's _Oxford Journal_. As to -its make-up the editor announced that, "This paper will be more complete -than any that has hitherto appeared in this Part of the Kingdom. For -besides the Articles of News, Foreign and Domestic, in which we shall -endeavour to surpass every other Paper, our Situation will enable us to -oblige our readers with a particular account of every Transaction relating -to the present Opposition in Oxfordshire, as also with a Variety of -curious Pieces in Prose and Verse, on both sides of the Question; which no -other Paper can procure." Having made this declaration of his _modus -operandi_ Jackson adhered to it rigidly and fully. His columns of foreign -news were stocked with items of note and interest. Foreign politics, wars, -rumours of wars, agricultural depressions or rises were all included, and -came from the uttermost parts of the earth. The domestic intelligence -covered the movements of the King and royal family, meetings of celebrated -London societies, and chatty descriptions of assaults and batteries. In -one issue there was a sporting account of how "a young man ran from Queen -Street, Cheapside, to Hornsey Wood, and back again, in one Hour and four -minutes." The next paragraph related that "the same Morning was found -drowned in the River, William Andrew, a Master Taylor in Spital Fields. -His watch and Money, with two Rings on his Finger, were found upon him." -This little tragedy was immediately followed by an incident of comedy -which occurred in the London streets. - -"Between Five and Six o'clock on Sunday Evening an uncommon Scheme was put -in Execution by a Gang of Pickpockets in St James's Park. A Person very -well dressed fixing himself with great Attention, as tho' he saw something -particular in the Air, occasioned a Number of People to enquire the Reason -and join in the Speculation, when he asserted he saw a very bright Star; -and while he was busy in pointing out the Constellation to the Spectators -several of them lost their handkerchiefs, but the Star gazer got off." - -Jackson's news columns were every bit as full in comparison as the London -papers to-day. With politics, too, he dealt very fully. In a short and -pithy editorial, however, he assured his readers that his own political -views did not count--he was merely running the paper. This, odd as it may -seem, was sound diplomatic policy, because in those days, with -ever-changing party feeling, it was a mere matter of five minutes to issue -an injunction, stop the press, and confiscate the whole plant. Devoted as -he was to political interest Jackson printed many of the promised "curious -Pieces of Prose and Verse." - - "RECEIPT TO MAKE A VOTE. - - "_By the cook of Sir J. D----d._ - - "Take a Cottager of Thirty shillings a Year, tax Him at Forty; Swear - at Him; Bully Him; take your business from Him; Give Him your business - again; make Him drunk; Shake Him by the Hand; Kiss his Wife, and he is - an Honest Fellow. - - "_N.B._--The above Cook will make Affidavit before any Justice of the - Peace, that this Receipt has been try'd on the Body of Billy S---- and - several others in the Neighbourhood of K--rtle--n, and never failed of - Success." - -The other political contribution took the form of an election song, the -sort of thing that the Undergraduates of those times would seize upon and -parade the streets of the university, chanting right lustily in gangs. - - "ADVICE TO FREEHOLDERS. - - "Ye honest Freeholders, bestir all your stumps; - For all now depends upon who turns up Trumps. - Be sure that you chuse - Neither Placemen nor Jews. - Nor such as are likely their trust to abuse. - To the devil you're sold if the Conj'rer prevails; - If Israel's Black Seed, beware of your Tails. - - _Chorus._ - - "Alas! that poor Britons should lose for their Sins - Their Liberties, Properties and their Fore-Skins." - -In addition to such contributions in prose and verse, the columns of the -Journal were open to any keen correspondent who cared to air either his -views or his grievances--an opportunity of which the fullest advantage was -taken. In every issue urgent appeals and exhortations to voters and -freeholders appeared over various names. The advertisement columns, such -as they were, contained frequent announcements of the publication of -political pamphlets addressed to the "Gentlemen, Clergy, and Freeholders -of the country of Oxford." These columns contained also the most curious -hotch-potch of unexpected posts and requests, such as: - - "TO BE DRUNK FOR BY CANDLE, - - "AT WILL'S COFFEE-HOUSE, IN OXFORD, ON WEDNESDAY NEXT, - - "A LIVING, - - "Worth near _Thirty Pounds_ per Annum, besides Surplice fees and other - emoluments. None but True Blue Parsons to drink for it. Three - Gentlemen with White Wigs and Red Faces are already entered. - - "_N.B._--Very soon will be ate for at the same place, a tollerable - _Curacy_, by those who never get a Dinner but of a Sunday. Codd and - Oyster Sauce will be the Subject for this trial. Mr B--lst--ne is - excepted against in both Cases as he will spoil Sport." - -Another frequently-appearing notice was an advertisement of a booklet of -advice to new-married persons, or the art of having beautiful children. -This was surrounded by bills of races, cock fights, arrivals of new -dancing masters, who addressed themselves to the nobility and gentry in -and about Oxford, quack medicines and ointments which were a never-failing -remedy for the itch, announced "by the King's authority. _N.B._--One box -is sufficient to cure a grown person, and divided, is a cure for two -children." - -For the rest it was the receptacle for articles of every nature from all -and sundry. Warton left his antiquarian researches to afford himself a -little relaxation by writing for it a version of Gray's _Elegy_ up to -date, or an appreciation of Ben Tyrell's mutton pies. From the various -coffee-houses Jackson received the wonderful effusions of the Bucks of the -first head, sonnets to Sylvia's eyelashes, poems in praise of Oxford ale, -and even an occasional Latin verse. "Old Lochard, the newsman," says J. R. -Green in his delightful Oxford chapters, "who, bell in hand, hawked the -Journal through the streets, owed to his college patrons not only the -antiquated cane and rusty grizzle wig, which they had thrown by after ten -years' service of the tankard at buttery hatch, in return for quick -despatches; but the merry rhymes that every Christmas drew a douceur from -the tradesman, a slice of sirloin and a cup of October from the squire, or -a dram from Mother Baggs."[22] - -In the Journal's own war paean:-- - - "Each vast event our varied page supplies, - The fall of princes or the rise of pies; - Patriots and squires learn here with little cost - Or when a kingdom or a match is lost; - Both sexes here approved receipts peruse, - Hence belles may clean their teeth or beaux their shoes, - From us informed Britannia's farmers tell - How Louisburgh by British thunders fell; - 'Tis we that sound to all the Trump of Fame, - And babes lisp Amherst's and Boscawen's name. - All the four quarters of the globe conspire - Our news to fill, and raise your glory higher." - -Throughout almost the entire eighteenth century the editorial chairs of -the different periodicals seem to have been filled for the most part by St -John's men. Terrae Filius appeared first in 1721 under the guidance of -Nicholas Amhurst of St John's. In 1789 _The Loiterers_, a literary weekly, -was launched before the public by James Austen of St John's. His brother, -H. T. Austen of the same college, materially assisted him by contributing -a number of delightful imaginative articles. This paper was filially -dedicated by the editor to the President and Fellows of his college, and -ran successfully for two years. The present-day members have done their -best to maintain the literary traditions of this college, for that nine -days' wonder, the _Tuesday Review_, was edited and run by two rash men of -St John's. - -Amhurst took it upon himself to fill the post of cat-o'-nine-tails to the -University, and in his "secret history" lashed at everybody and thing that -was not to his liking, or that seemed to him to constitute in any way an -abuse. He discovered for himself, in all their abundance, the manifold -troubles of an editor, but was not to be coerced or cajoled into anything -that he did not consider fit and proper. - -"In a work of this nature," he wrote in the preface to the second edition -of Terrae Filius, "it is very hard to please any, and impossible to please -all. The different tempers and tastes of men cannot relish the same style -or manner of writing any more than the same dish or the same diversion: -fops love romances; pedants love jargon; the splenatic man delights in -satire; and the gay courtier in panegyric; some are pleased with poetry; -others with prose; some are for plain truths, and some for disguise and -dissimulation. I was aware of this when I began, and, in my second paper, -reserved to myself a liberty to be in what humour I pleased, and to vary -my manner as well as my subject, hoping thereby to please most sorts of -readers; but I quickly found myself disappointed in my expectations, -having often received, by the same post, complaints from some of my -correspondents, that I was too grave for the character of Terrae Filius; -and from others, that I affected levity too much for one who styled -himself a reformer. In answer to both of the objections I shall beg my -readers to consider that as, on one hand, it ought not to be expected that -a man should keep his face upon the broad grin for half a year together; -so, on the other, I cannot apprehend that it is at all necessary for a -reformer to be a puritan, always in the dumps, and always holding forth -with a dismal face and a canting tone:-- - - "'... ridiculum acri - Fortis et melius magnas plerumque secat res.' - -"... I can see nothing in it to repent of, but the want of sufficient -abilities to treat a subject of such general importance in the manner -which it deserves. But I hope the reader will excuse some imperfections, -when he considers the nature of my stunted education, that I was allow'd -to continue but three years at Oxford, and was not twenty-four years of -age when I compleated this undertaking." - -In self-explanation Terrae Filius started off his campaign with sundry -paragraphs calculated to make the authorities uneasy as to their own -future safety, and to cause Undergraduates to champion him against them at -all hazards. - -"It has, till of late," he explained, "been a custom, from time -immemorial, for one of our family to mount the rostrum at Oxford at -certain seasons, and divert an innumerable crowd of spectators, who -flock'd thither to hear him from all parts, with a merry oration in the -fescenine manner, interspersed with secret history, raillery, and sarcasm, -as the occasions at the times supply'd him with matter. If a venerable -head of a college was caught snug a bed with his neighbour's wife; or -shaking his elbows on a Sunday morning; or flattering a prime minister for -a bishopric; or coaxing his bedmaker's girl out of her maidenhead; the -hoary old sinner might expect to hear of it from our lay-pulpit the next -Act. Or if a celebrated toast and a young student were seen together at -midnight under a shady myrtle tree, billing like two turtle doves, to him -it belonged, being a poet as well as an orator, to tell the tender story -in a melancholy ditty, adapted to pastoral music." - -Claiming to follow the precedents established by his old-time -predecessors, Terrae Filius set about showing up the scandalous old Heads, -disguised in thinly-veiled names. As a consequence he was many times -prohibited by Vice-Chancellors and preached down, and cordially loathed -and execrated by all the college Heads and Fellows of his time, whom he -attacked either directly or indirectly. - -"Why should a poor Undergraduate," he asked, "be called an idle rascal, -and a good-for-nothing blockhead, for being perhaps but twice at chapel in -one day; or for coming into college at ten or eleven o'clock at night; or -for a thousand other greater trifles than these; whilst the grey-headed -doctors may indulge themselves in what debaucheries and corruptions they -please, with impunity, and without censure? Methinks it could not do any -great hurt to the universities if the old fellows were to be jobed at -least once in four or five years for their irregularities, as the young -ones are everyday, if they offend." - -Abuses of such a nature are long dead, and a Terrae Filius to-day would -rapidly die of starvation by reason of the lack of matter. Then, however, -he not only lived, but waxed fat on the news he ferreted out--rather in -the manner of a leech applied to a festering sore. Advertisements to him -meant nothing. They were unsought, and would have been refused if -offered. He was _pro bono publico_, ever ready with advice, satire, -criticism, explanation, and always humour. His pen was untiring in writing -a subject up or down, according to its merits or demerits. Political, -religious, academic, and social abuses were thrown on to the screen -fearlessly. His paternal advice to freshmen, although written in a vein of -biting irony, was, nevertheless exactly suited to the times, and, if -followed unswervingly, must assuredly have been of vast assistance in -coping with the wily, time-serving sculls and beer-swilling tutors. His -advice as to their morale was penned with his tongue in his cheek; but in -substance it was none the less straight and praiseworthy. His political -views were consistent and very strenuous, and the opposition received a -royal scourging from his stinging and lengthy lashes. His contempt for -Smarts was only exceeded by his scorn for drink-soddened, incapable -Fellows, and the scandalous manner in which they neglected the statutes -and allowed everything to run to seed. His boldness in choice of subjects -was unparalleled, the outspoken manner of setting them forth absolutely -inimitable. The results achieved by his work must have been considerable, -though to a large extent unperceived publicly, because a new leaf turned -frankly and openly would have been an avowal of guilt on the part of the -persons concerned. The proof that he was largely read lies in the fact -that he was preached about in no measured terms in public pulpits, -prohibited by various authorities, roasted by aggrieved parties in -coffee-and ale-houses, and, in fact, was a household word on every one's -tongue. - -A lengthy disquisition upon the way in which the truth was mangled, -disguised, covered up, and turned about by priests, statesmen, and every -"old libertine in authority" was followed by the ensuing declaration:-- - -"I, Terrae Filius, a free-thinker, and a free-speaker, highly incensed -against all knavery and imposture, and not thinking _Truth_ such a -terrible enemy to religion and good order, as it has been represented, do -hereby declare war against all cheats and deluders, however dignified, or -wheresoever residing; the fear of obloquy and ill-usage shall not deter me -from this undertaking, nor shall any considerations rob me of the liberty -of my own thoughts and my own tongue. In the pursuit of this design, I -shall not confine myself to any particular method; but shall be grave and -whimsical, serious or ludicrous, prosaical or poetical, philosophical or -satirical, argue or tell stories, weep over my subject, or laugh over it, -be in humour or out of humour, according to whatever passion is uppermost -in my breast whilst I am writing." - -In token of this promise there stands the truth on every page, however -bedded in satire, philosophy, poetry, or ridicule. He saw to it that his -daily path was studded with nails, and in his passage he hit them each one -on the head. As a result the pages of Terrae Filius are from cover to -cover a source of immense joy. For an example of bold and delightful -satire I cannot find a better instance than the _ne plus ultra_ in skits -on the Poetical Club. Of course he gave the president and learned -professors who composed it fictitious names, but it is palpable that those -caricatured recognised themselves, and, if they had the least grain of -humour in their compositions, they must have enjoyed it thoroughly. As, -however, the question of their possessing a sense of humour is open to -grave doubts--a fact proved by the very formation of the club and the -secrecy of its doings--it is infinitely more likely that the club writhed -under his well-pointed jibes and consigned the author to eternal -perdition. Then, too, the bland and smiling manner in which he turned -aside the violent pulpit denunciations of his hard-hit victims is -exhilarating to a degree. He received, for instance, a letter from an -anonymous friend (hidden behind the title "John Spy") who sent him an -account of the heated charges laid at his door by a certain grave college -Head. Terrae printed the letter and smilingly pointed out the reasons of -the man's wrath in a tone of charming tolerance. - -"You see, reader," he said, "that I had no sooner undertaken this task but -I raised a nest of holy wasps and hornets about my ears; an huge old -drone, grown to an excessive bulk upon the spoils of many years, has -thought fit, you see, to call me terrible names before his learned -audience, at St Mary's Church in Oxford; it is, it seems, an hellish -attempt to bring about a reformation of the universities; and it is daring -and impious in me to style myself a free-thinker and a free-speaker: poor -man! poor man! What! art afraid I should tell tales out of school, how a -certain fat doctor got his bedmaker with child, and play'd several other -unlucky pranks? That would be daring and impious indeed. No, no, never -fret thyself, man; I love a pretty woman myself, and I never desire any -better usage in this world than as I do unto others to be done unto -myself." - -Turning to politics, Terrae Filius summed up the attitude of the -authorities in Oxford in one short paragraph--which was made a hundred -times more severe by his assertion upon honour that religion received the -same treatment at their hands. - -"In politics my advice is the same as in religion--not to let your upstart -reason domineer over you, and say you must obey this king or that king; or -you must be of this party, or that party; instead of that, follow your -leaders; observe the cue, which they give you; speak as they speak; act as -they act; drink as they drink, and swear as they swear; comply with -everything which they comply with; and discover no scruples which they do -not discover." - -Upon a Whig and a Tory enquiring what was their exact position, he told -them that one day the Whig might be safe and have things all his own way, -but that the next the certainty of the Tory's being uppermost was -absolute. Finally he urged upon them that the only safe method of -proceeding was to employ what are called nowadays the Winston tactics--one -side one day, the other the next, according to one's greater individual -advantage. - -He dealt exhaustively with the peculiarly slack method of conducting, or -rather the practical non-existence of, university examinations. On reading -his account alone, it would very naturally be supposed that he was drawing -the long bow, caricaturing the existing conditions out of all shape and -possibility of recognition, and we laugh unreservedly. But further study -of other writers' criticisms of the times very quickly turns our smile -into a gasp of amazement. Terrae Filius was not caricaturing. All his -absurd and quite impossible relations of bribery and corruption were true. -It is precisely the same with all his papers. He has wisely written them -in the style of caricatures, and at times, no doubt, has indulged his -humour overmuch; but, on going into his inimitable showings up of drinking -and immoral Dons, political conflicts, university statutes, toasts, -smarts, or any one of the innumerable subjects dissected by him, and then -comparing his work with other eighteenth-century documents, one finds that -Terrae Filius carried out his boast and kept to the truth. - -Is there any man to-day who, at the age of twenty-four, has achieved such -notoriety, done such brilliant work, and proved himself to be such a -master of his craft? - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -'VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The Student--Cambridge included--Its design--The female student--Poem - by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury's letter--The manly woman. - - -On the first day of January, 1750, there appeared the first number of _The -Student_. The sub-title read: _The Oxford Monthly Miscellany_. For two -years it ran successfully, and, at the beginning of the second, it was -found that Cambridge took such an interest in its doings that the -sub-title was enlarged. It then read: _The Oxford and Cambridge Monthly -Miscellany_. In make-up it differed entirely from Terrae Filius, and -contended to be a far more serious and high-minded journal, aiming not so -much to amuse as to teach its readers. Thus it contained Latin prose and -verse, religious discussions, essays, medical dissertations, and a -carefully selected variety of lighter matter in English prose and verse. -The tone of the work may be gathered from the sedate foreword to the -public. - -"In the course of this work particular care will be taken that nothing be -inserted indecent or immoral, and as we are determined to give umbrage to -no Person or Party, all political disputes and whatever is offensive to -Good Manners will of consequence be avoided. Our design being only to -promote learning in general, we shall not confine ourselves to any -particular subject, but occasionally comprehend all the branches of polite -literature. Each number will consist of such originals in Prose and Verse -as we hope will prove agreeable to our readers. And tho' we might with -impunity comply with the common practice of preying indiscriminately on -the labours of others, yet we shall not to our knowledge publish any thing -that has been printed before, or without the consent of the respective -authors: for the one we consider as a fraud upon the publick, and the -other an invasion of private property. These considerations we presume -will remove any prejudice which the Learned may conceive against our -undertaking, and induce them not only to encourage, but assist us in the -prosecution of it. And as we must necessarily depend on the publick for -the Success of our work, we hope it will meet with their indulgence. No -endeavours on our part shall be wanting to render it worthy their -approbation; and we no longer desire their favour, than while we continue -to deserve it." - -In the first number there were some five or six pages of Latin verse, a -translation of the chorus at the end of the second act of _Hecuba of -Euripides_, an elegy in imitation of Tibullus, an article on "Intellectual -Pleasure"--the author of which was requested, in an editorial note, to -favour the paper with his further reflections--the speech of John Fell, -D.D., Bishop of Oxford, at his Triennial Visitation in the year 1685, an -article entitled "Leaning of no Party," and one or two lighter imaginative -contributions, such as "The Speech of an Old Oak to an Extravagant Young -Heir as He was going to be Cut Down," and an "Address to an Elbow Chair -Lately New Cloath'd." As there were no advertisements to assist the -editors with the printing bills, it speaks well for the literary taste of -the period that the paper lived two full years--the period to which the -editors limited themselves at the outset. Such a periodical at Oxford in -the year of grace 1911 would prove to be a hopeless anachronism. It would -arrive at a circulation of three copies per month--a free copy to the -British Museum, another to the Bodleian, and the third to the editor's -mother. The Undergraduates might finger it casually on the bookshop -counter, and the Dons read the first number on account of its novelty, but -it would die a speedy death unless by the second issue the editor -announced its coalition with the comic paper whose editor runs his -motor-car on the earnings of butcher and express messenger boys. - -One of the lighter features of _The Student_ was a series of letters from -Cambridge written by the female student. Her epistles were full of humour, -and she poked fun at the Undergraduates quietly, and in a manner not -wholly unlike Terrae Filius. Perhaps it is unfair to compare her efforts -to those of Amhurst, because as he jested and quipped in every conceivable -style and way, any one coming after him might be accused, quite unjustly, -of plagiarism. That the female student was not guilty of any false modesty -is easily to be seen from the account of herself in her preliminary -letter; while the care with which the editors of _The Student_ guarded the -decencies and the moralities ensured that she did not in any way cause a -breach in them by her broad-minded and outspoken contributions. She began -by claiming the student as a brother, a claim based upon her birth, -education, and the whole conduct of her life. She asserted that she, too, -was a student, having sounded the depths of philosophy and made greater -progress "in academical erudition" than most of the Dons whose profound -knowledge consisted in a "little cap with a short tuft and a large pompous -grizzle wig." She was born and brought up in Cambridge in the care of an -aunt. Her studies were directed by a grave Fellow of a college. Her aunt -was so fond of her that she was suffered to "give a loose to her passion -for literature," and the girl absorbed information from curling papers and -the lids of wig-boxes. When she was seventeen her tutor died of a surfeit -occasioned by feeding too freely at a gaudy, and the secret at last came -out that there had been a union between the Don and the aunt for nearly -twenty years. The aunt became, therefore, a mother, and she produced -documents to show that the Don's possessions were hers. The result of the -selling of the deceased's effects did not raise the good woman to a -condition of luxury. - -"However," said the girl, "she resolved to continue at Cambridge on my -account, and we lived together in a manner much genteeler than our fortune -would afford. My person (which, by-the-bye, I took as much pains to -cultivate as my mind) now began to be cried up as much as my parts. I was -a charming, clever, sweet, smart, witty, pretty creature, in short, I was -as much feared for my wit as ador'd for my beauty. From hence I had vanity -to fancy I could have anybody I pleased, and had therefore resolved within -myself to be run away with by a nobleman, or a baronet at least." - -But this witty, pretty creature unfortunately over-estimated her -possibilities. The next ten years passed in a round of gaiety which took -the form of courtship by no one under the rank of gentleman commoner. With -the baronet in view, however, such mere mortals fell in their hundreds. -Some she rejected "because a better might offer, some because they had too -much sense; others because they had too little; this was too old, that too -young," and, in consequence, she was gradually deserted, as her physical -charms waned, until at last her name was never mentioned "without the -odious reproach of 'she has been' added to it." - -At the moment of writing this first letter she was compelled to work for -her bread and the support of her mother. This she did with her pen, -turning out poems and novels; being, as she informed _The Student_, at -present engaged in "composing sermons for a bookseller, which he designs -to sell for the MS. Sermons of an eminent divine lately deceased, -warranted originals." - -_The Student_, liking the tone of her first letter, encouraged her to -write further, and from time to time she sent in various articles, such as -a scathing criticism of Academical Gallantry, in which she roundly chaffed -all gownsmen for their bragging propensities and gallant follies, and gave -an account of the various Dons and their habits who had laid vain siege to -her heart, and a discussion on the sin of living single, and the fustiness -of old maids--a plight in which she admitted herself to be, though not by -"desire or inclination." - -In spite of the editorial desire to give umbrage to no person or party, -certain of the Bucks seem to have considered her an unamusing, brazen -creature, whose inclusion in _The Student_ was a sad mistake, for she -received the following crushing letter from one of their number. - - "---- Coll., Oxford, _June 11, 1751_. - - "MADAM,--As the character I bear in this University is that of a - profess'd critic-general on pamphlets, and as my opinion is look'd - upon as infallible and oracular in a certain coffee-house frequented - by Wits, where a subscription is carried on for raking together the - dulness of the age, I think I may take the liberty (without being - styled Prig, Fop, Witling, or Poetaster) of transmitting you my full - and candid sentiments on your monthly productions. And first, Madam - Student, with as much laconic politeness as possible, I beg leave to - inform you that you pretend to that choice ingredient of good writing - Humour, without having one syllable of it. In a word, Madam, if you - have any Humour at all, it is that low species of it, never so much as - heard of in Greece and Rome, originally invented by Tom Brown of - blackguard memory, and now first revived by the Female Student. - - "This species (if it may call itself a species), I, myself, in right - of the sublime critical character with which the sensible Men of our - house have invested me, have christen'd Jack-Pudding Humour. To define - it were utterly impracticable. However, thus much may be said of it, - that it is made up of ill-breeding and ill-nature, and discovers a - remarkable want of classical reading, and a relish for authors of true - taste. It treats of subjects of a vague nature, and is (beside its - Jack-pudding affinity) of a mere Jack-lanthorn nature, neither here - nor there; in short, it is a topsy-turvy, rhapsodic, miscellaneous - method of writing. But, to come to the point. What I would recommend - to you is to leave off scribbling, and sit down seriously to sewing. - - "Why, Madam, you are nothing more than a bankrupt in beauty, a mere - discarded toast! I assure you, Mrs Student, you have no more chance of - getting reputation by your pen than you had of getting a husband by - your person.--Yours, - - "FRANK FIZZ-PUFF." - -Whether this letter really caused the good lady to take up sewing in -earnest it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that she was no more -seen in _The Student_--not even to the extent of an indignant feminine -outburst against Mr Fizz-Puff. - -Among the "never before" printed verses which the editor secured for his -columns were some written by Sir Walter Raleigh at Winchester in 1603, as -he lay under sentence of death. They were printed from a manuscript with -due care to preserve the spelling exactly as it was. The editor, however, -was in ignorance of the fact that they had already been published in 1608 -in the second edition of Davison's _Poetical Rhapsody_. - - "Goe, soul, the bodyes gueste, - Upon a thankless arrante, - Fear not to touche the beste, - The truth shall be thy warrante. - Goe, since I needs must dye, - And give them all the lye. - - "Goe, tell the court it glowse, - And shines like painted woode; - Goe, tell the church it shows - What's good, but does no good. - If court and church replye - Give court and church the lye." - -The moribund knight pursued his muse to the thirteenth verse, giving -everybody and everything the lie. The editor of _The Student_, undoubtedly -with the idea of pandering to all tastes, was careful to place these -verses in between a translation of a Latin epigram-- - - "I stole from sweet Gumming two kisses in play, - But she from myself stole myself quite away; - I grieve not I play'd, tho' so cruel the sport; - I'm more pleas'd than griev'd at the hurt." - -and an epistle in verse to Lord Cobham, written by Congrave, while in the -very near neighbourhood, was-- - - "THE HERMAPHRODITE. - - "_From the Latin_ - - "My mother, when she was with child of me, - Consulted heav'n what gender I should be. - Female, cried Mars; Apollo said, a Male; - Neither, quoth Juno; both your judgments fail. - My birth did prove the Goddess in the right; - Nor boy, nor girl, but an Hermaphrodite. - Again she ask'd them what my fate would be. - One said a sword, another said a tree; - Water a third, and they were right all three. - For from a tree I fell upon my sword, - Feet caught in boughs, head dangling in a ford. - Man, Woman, Neither, I at last was found, - Just as the Gods foretold, hang'd, stabb'd, and drown'd." - -A few numbers before that in which the coffee-house wit told the female -student just precisely what he thought of her, the editor received a -letter from another of these gentry at one of the coffee-houses. On behalf -of all his brother Smarts, Mr Harry Didapper took it upon himself to offer -a little friendly advice to the paper. He informed the editor that _The -Student_ was read with keen interest by them all, but that at times it -indulged in boring and pompous articles which, however they pleased the -editor himself, or the cultivated taste of his wig-maker, hosier and wine -merchant, left them angry and disappointed. The Smarts wished to have no -more abstract speculations and religious introspections. They wanted more -brightness and humanity about the paper. Consequently in the next issue -the editor published the following lamentation:-- - - "A RECEIPT FOR THE GOUT. - - "Oh Gout! the plague of rich and great! - Thou cramping padlock of the feet! - Oh Gout! thou puzzling knotty point! - You nick man's frame in every joint; - You, like inquisitors of Spain, - Rack, burn, and torture limbs to pain. - First, miner-like, you work below, - And sap man's fortress by the toe.... - And what is worse, the wounded part - Finds small relief from doctor's art. - Great Wilmot's skill confounded stands - When patient roars ... my toe! my hands!... - 'Tis said that bees, when raging found, - Are charm'd to peace by tinkling sound; - Shrill lullabies in nurse's strain - Asswage the froward bantling's pain, - When cutting teeth, or ill-plac'd pin, - Molest the tender baby's skin, - So when Gout-humours throb and ache, - The present soft prescription take. - In elbow-chair majectick sit - In full high twinge, yet scorn to fret; - Divert the pain with generous wine; - Read news from Flanders and the Rhine; - Hold up the toe like Pope of Rome; - Forbear to scold, and swear, and fume; - Let double flannel guard the part, - To mitigate the dreadful smart; - Wrap round the joint this harmless verse; - And let dame Patience be your nurse." - -Would any doctor in these times prescribe wine as a remedy against gout? -Whether the advice was sound or not, the Smarts appeared to have been -appeased, for there came no further complaints as to the stodginess of the -fare served up to them. - -In the same number of _The Student_ there appeared a letter from Bishop -Atterbury to his son Obadiah, who was up at the House. How the editor -procured it is not recorded, nor is it easy to see why he included it in -his columns. It cannot have been vastly entertaining to a list of -subscribers who devoted most of their time to ale and coffee-houses, or in -dallying with Amaryllis in the shade of Merton Wall. It is greatly -interesting to-day, however, as an example of what an eighteenth-century -parent indicted to his son. The contrast between this letter and the -replies one receives in 1911 in answer to one's brief epistles written, -mostly, solely in order to "touch the dad down for a bit" is not -unstriking. - - "DEAR OBBY,--I thank you for your letter, because there are manifest - signs in it of your endeavouring to excel yourself, and in consequence - to please me. You have succeeded in both respects, and will always - succeed, if you think it worth your while to consider what you write - and to whom, and let nothing, tho' of a trifling nature, pass through - your pen negligently. Get but the way of writing correctly and justly, - time and use will teach you to write readily afterwards. Not but that - too much care may give a stiffness to your style, which ought in all - letters by all means to be avoided. The turn of them should always be - natural and easy, for they are an image of private and familiar - conversation. I mention this with respect to the four or five first - lines of yours, which have an air of poetry, and do therefore - naturally resolve themselves into blank verses. I send you your letter - again, that you may make the same observation. But you took the hint - of that thought from a poem, and it is no wonder therefore, that you - heightened the phrase a little when you were expressing it. The rest - is as it should be; and particularly there is an air of duty and - sincerity, that if it comes from your heart, is the most acceptable - present you can make me. With these qualities an incorrect letter - would please me, and without them the finest thoughts and language - would make no lasting impression upon me. The great Being says, you - know--my son, give me thy heart--implying that without it all other - gifts signify nothing. Let me conjure you therefore never to say - anything, either in a letter or common conversation, that you do not - think, but always to let your mind and your words go together on the - most slight and trivial occasions. Shelter not the least degree of - insincerity under the notion of a compliment, which, as far as it - deserves to be practis'd by a man of probity, is only the most civil - and obliging way of saying what you really mean; and whoever employs - it otherwise, throws away truth for breeding; I need not tell you how - little his character gets by such an exchange. I say not this as if I - suspected that in any part of your letter you intended only to write - what was proper, without any regard to what was true; for I am - resolved to believe that you were in earnest from the beginning to the - end of it, as much as I am when I tell you that I am,--Your loving - father, etc." - -The editor of _The Student_ pronounced himself the champion of many and -various causes. For instance, he organised in his columns a fund for the -maintenance of the widows and children of deceased clergy in straightened -circumstances, which did an immense amount of good. His appeal for money -was nobly responded to in Oxford, and widely taken up by the public. -Another matter against which he took up the cudgels was the fondness shown -so largely by the fair sex for indulging in masculine sports in masculine -attire--more particularly hunting. From his account it is clear that a -very great percentage of ladies was horsey to the exclusion of all else, -even, in his eyes, of femininity. - -"I cannot," he wrote in an article occasioned by an amusing letter from a -short-sighted contributor who at dinner addressed his neighbour as Sir, -when all the time it was a lady, who, returning late from a day with the -hounds had had no time to change, "I cannot, indeed, but highly disapprove -not only the habit, but also the cause of it. It makes them appear rough -and manlike: it robs them of all the endearing softness, all the alluring -tenderness, that so captivates and charms the heart. As pity and a certain -degree of timorousness are essentially woven into their constitution, do -they not pervert the very end of their creation, who daringly tempt the -perils of the chace, or exult in the prosecution and death of a poor -harmless animal? If the laws of _decency_ are not broke thro' by such an -unbecoming practice, I am sure, those of _delicacy_ are, which above all -things 'tis the business of the fair to keep up." - -As an example of the unnatural and indelicate results of a woman being -sporting the editor related with pathos the story of one Peggy Atall, who -was brought up, her mother being dead, by her father, a country squire, to -all the "labourious sports of the field." Hunting was, however, her -obsession, and she was noted as the boldest rider in the country. "As she -is an heiress, many a young fox hunter, whose love has been greater than -his prudence, has hazarded his neck and cheaply come off with a dislocated -limb or so, in following her thro' the various perils and hairbreadth -'scapes of the chace." The editor, who had the good fortune to know this -fair Diana, was, fortunately for himself, not in love with her, judging by -the avowedly casual manner in which he visited at her house. But he was -none the less deeply pained that "her whole conversation turns on that -topic. I have often heard her charm a large circle of gaping -fellow-sportsmen with a recapitulation of the feats of the day. She would -descant a whole hour on the virtues of Dreadnought, her own horse, who had -brought her in at the death of a stag, with Tom the huntsman, when every -gentleman on the field was thrown out; concluding with the most exulting -expressions of barbarous joy at seeing the poor beast torn to pieces." He -brought his reflections to an end by strongly urging all his fair-hunting -readers to "lay aside the spirit of the chace together with the cap, the -whip, and _all the masculine attire_." It is more than probable that as -the editor of a modern daily or weekly paper his remarks _a propos_ of -suffragette raids, and all the little delicate ventures in which women -vote-seekers indulge their fancy, would make very bright and spirited -reading. He was evidently born before his time. Be that as it may, he -undoubtedly conducted his paper on popular lines, for he was enabled to -keep it alive during the two years which he had mapped out for himself in -the beginning. Its fame was not local to Oxford and Cambridge. He received -letters of congratulation from Edinburgh, Dublin, and other university -towns--the senders of course enclosing contributions with their letters of -praise! - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -'VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to the - _Cozeners_ written by Mr Garrick--Visions, fables and moral - tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789. - - -_The Student_ was followed after a lapse of some eighteen years by the -_Oxford Magazine_, a monthly miscellany. Devoted to no one particular -object, the editors declared its columns open to every kind of literary -matter--scientific, historical, antiquarian. Light and merely amusing -subjects were also given a place in its pages. They boasted in addition a -feature which no other periodical had ever included--illustrations. _The -Student_, it is true, had an allegorical engraving as a frontispiece to -each volume, but the _Oxford Magazine_ went one better and had -copper-plates of many of the noteworthy persons and happenings of the day, -which were "made from the most striking subjects." "Satirical and -political cards will be given in each number, executed by the most -ingenious artists; which, it is hoped, will vie, in humour and satire, -with the late celebrated Mr Hogarth's performances." Other features which -the editors dealt with far more enterprisingly than any other papers of -the century were the Drama and the Law Courts. In each number there -appeared a criticism of a Drury Lane production with the cast in full, a -description of the play, the plot given in _precis_ form, and a general -summing up of the merits or demerits of the writing and acting. Each of -these ran to several columns, and in some numbers there were criticisms of -two or three productions. Besides dealing with the Law Courts in the -Domestic Intelligence columns, which acted as a sort of monthly review of -events, there were full reports of some of the important trials of the -time. The editors' foreword was not without interest, giving, as it did, -an exact idea of their plan of campaign. On the title page it was stated -that the magazine was "calculated for general instruction and amusement." -To this end they put forward following the programme:-- - -"Among other subjects of general entertainment, the authors propose to -give, in the course of this magazine, complete systems of every branch of -useful learning, enriched with all the improvements of modern writers. -They do not, however, propose to confine their labours entirely to the -elucidation of the sciences; they propose to give a large account of the -political and other transactions in different parts of the world, -especially in our own country; every remarkable event, every uncommon -debate, and every interesting turn of affairs will be recorded. A copious -and authentic history of foreign and domestick occurrences will also be -given, digested in a chronological series, containing all the material -news of the month. To render this performance agreeable to every class of -readers, care will be taken to furnish it with pieces calculated for -general entertainment. The elegant amusements of literature, the flights -of poetical fancy, and the brilliant sallies of inoffensive wit, shall -find a place in our _Magazine_. In a word, researches into antiquity; -elucidations of ancient writers; criticisms on every branch of literature; -essays in prose and verse; visions, fables, moral tales, etc., will make a -part of this performance. The correspondence of the ingenious is therefore -requested...." - -On the lighter side of the periodical, one of the features was a monthly -collection from contemporary London papers of curious and remarkable -advertisements. They evidently appealed strongly to the supporters of the -paper, as, after the first volume, the editors gave them in greater -number. Some of them, indeed, were not without humour--of the broader kind -then in vogue--as will be seen from the few examples appended:-- - - "A maiden lady, who lately died in Ireland, left two guineas each to - four maidens, aged twenty-five, to be her pall-bearers, each of whom - was to swear she was a maid, before receiving the money; but such is - the detestation in which perjury is held in Ireland, that the old lady - was buried without a pall-bearer.--_Public Advertiser_, July 8." - - "To the Single Women.--A Single Man wants to Lodge, or Lodge and - Board, with a Single Woman whether in business or not; keeps regular - hours, will not give much trouble, but spends many evenings at home; - therefore wishes to meet with a very conversable person and is willing - to pay a _handsome_ price.--_Gazetteer_, Nov. 22." - - "On Thursday last a publican in Shoreditch sold his wife to a butcher - for a ticket in the present lottery, on condition that if the ticket - be drawn a blank he is to have his wife again as soon as the drawing - of the lottery is over.--_Public Advertiser_, Sep. 19." - - "If any real gentleman will oblige a _lady_ of character with _one - hundred pounds_, for six months, on her own bond, the gentleman may - have an advantage, which cannot be mentioned in a public newspaper; it - is desired that none may apply who cannot command the sum - immediately.--Please to direct a line to J. X. at Mr Tomb's No. 72 - Fetter Lane." - - "If Mr ----, lately a Latin master at an academy in town, who has got - a dozen and a half of shirts belonging to Mr Wh--e, does not call on - his guardian in Coleman Street immediately, and give satisfaction for - the said shirts, his name will be advertised with many other - circumstances not to his advantage.--_Daily Advertiser_, Dec. 16." - - "Mrs K---- (who was in one of the front boxes at the representation of - the 'Trip to Scotland') was observed to blush four times behind her - fan, occasioned, it is imagined, at the repetition of the words single - and _double beds_; as it is said to be well known that in her - elopement to Scotland only a _single bed_ was used going and - returning." - -The above are a few specimens of the flowers of wit, printed extensively -at the time in many of the papers, culled from many volumes of the _Oxford -Magazine_. At the end of Volume IX., however, there was found to be no -further desire for them, and they were quietly dropped into the limbo of -forgotten things. The columns thus relieved were filled with anecdotes and -articles of a much less lively but more literary nature. - -The opening article in the first volume was a very serious essay, fully -equipped with examples and quotations from the ancients, on the Power of -the Passions. This was followed by a consideration as to whether genius is -a natural gift or an effect of education. From the great similarity of -style in the two articles, it is extremely probable that they were written -by the same pen. The next ten columns were occupied by a _verbatim_ report -of various speeches made in the Court of King's Bench, and in certain -London clubs. The Surgeon Dentist to His Majesty then contributed a -flowing article on the disorders and deformities of the teeth and gums, in -which mothers might find copious hints as to the teething of their -infants. For the patrons of the Drama, unable to get up to London, there -was "Some Account of the Statesman Foil'd, a Musical Comedy in Two Acts, -composed by Mr Rush; and performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket." -Even in those days it would seem that dramatic critics were of the settled -opinion that their task was never to praise, but only to carp and pick -holes, for, after giving a description of the play which read very -amusingly and well, the critic concluded by saying that although "several -of the songs are very prettily set, they are undoubtedly inferior to Mr -Rush's former compositions; and the dialogue not remarkable for sentiment -or wit, is often extremely tiresome." - -In whatever spirit the criticisms were written, however, it cannot be said -that the university, only allowed to perform plays after a deal of -discussion and recrimination on the part of the powers that were, did not -take a great interest in the Drama. As the _Oxford Magazine_ proceeded, -more and more space was devoted to the London productions, and whole -scenes which were deemed of literary and dramatic merit were quoted from -them. Many of the songs, too, were published at length. The July number in -1774 contains, for example, "an account of the new comedy called the -_Cozeners_ as it was performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket." The -cast is quoted in full and, besides telling the story of the play in some -three columns, the prologue was printed. - -The critic of the _Magazine_ wrote about it as follows:-- - -"The piece was introduced with an excellent prologue, replete with the -true Attic salt (said to be written by Mr Garrick), and spoken by Mr -Foote, in which he compared himself to a watchman, whose business it is to -watch over the rising vices and follies of the age, and when they come to -a certain height, _knock them down_, by exposing them on the stage. As -nothing ever deserved applause more, so nothing was ever more warmly -received by the audience." Of all the criticisms of the various -productions in whose casts are to be found the names of Mrs Siddons, Mrs -Love, Mr Foote, Mrs Yates, and many other famous actors and actresses of -the time, that of the _Cozeners_ is the most warm and praisegiving of any -printed in the _Magazine_. - -Among the visions, fables, and moral tales promised by the editors, there -was a vivid and detailed description of a nun's taking the veil. The -writer spent himself in explanation of every word and deed that occurred -during the ceremony, but whether the article, which ran through several -issues and was written by a person of the male sex, was considered a -vision, a fable, or a moral tale, it is impossible to say. Whichever it -was, however, it was well observed and highly coloured. Then there -followed a curious little contribution which was labelled a tale, but -which ought surely to have been included in the category of visions or -fables. It was entitled the "Kiss," and came from the German. "When I was -a youth, my father sent me to Paphos to study love, which I there learnt -of a Dryad.... Fair one, you may now learn of me what a Kiss is. The -Nymphs and Dryads never met to dance, without making me one of the party; -for I was dedicated to the God of Love, and everything within me expressed -the sentiment. - -"At this tender age I tasted the most pure pleasure. All Paphos, to me, -seemed to dance; for the little loves danced over my head, and the flowers -danced under my feet. Among the Dryads was one who affected always to -chuse me for her partner; she never failed to smile at me sweetly, to -squeeze my hand, and blush afterwards with all the graces of modesty. And -I squeezed also the hand of the Dryad, and blushed when I danced with her. -Even before Aurora had quitted the ocean I was already in the grove -sporting with my amiable Dryad. - -"Sometimes I surprised her in the groves, where she had retired, amidst -the thickest foliage, and where she wished to be discovered; sometimes she -watched me when I hid myself, and, when she discovered me, fled, and I -pursued in hopes of overtaking her. But, all of a sudden, she would -inclose herself in the bark of an oak, and elude my pursuit. And when I -had sought her long in vain, she used to burst into loud fits of laughter; -then I entreated her to come out of her place of concealment, and -immediately I saw her issue, smiling, from the body of the tree. - -"One day that I was playing with my Dryad in the wood, she tenderly patted -my cheeks and said, 'Press your lips against mine.' I pressed my lips -against hers; but, heavens! what pleasure did I then experience! No, the -honey that flows from Mount Hymettus is not so sweet, nor the fruit of the -vines of Surentum; even nectar, the nectar which Ganymede presents to the -immortal gods, is a thousand times less delicious. - -"Then she again glued her lips to mine. In the intoxication of my -transport, I cried: 'Oh incomparable beauty! tell me the name of this -exquisite pleasure, which glides into my very soul from thy lips, whenever -our lips meet each other?' She answered, with a gracious smile--'a Kiss!'" - -This odd little piece of imaginative writing was printed on the same page -with a sketch of the trial of Samuel Gillam, Esq., for murder! - -It is not easy to conceive that the _Oxford Magazine_ was very popular -among Bucks of the first head, for there were, indeed, none of the -references to toasts, accompanied by frequent sonnets, which occupied so -large a place in the journals earlier in the century. The tone of the -paper was more sedate throughout. There was less of the bottle and -drinking bout. The contributions covered a far wider field of interest. - -The magazine is in some sort a combination of, or rather, perhaps, an -advance upon, _Jackson's Journal_ and _The Student_. The editors united -the ideas of both these periodicals. From the one they obtained the notion -of the monthly summary of events collected from all parts; and from the -other, the idea of illustrations and fiction. The result of this -perfectly-justifiable plagiarism was certainly popular. The magazine ran -for about eight years without financial aid in the form of advertisements, -and at the end of each issue the acknowledgment of contributions, both -articles and illustrations, made a considerable list. Obviously, -therefore, the wide diversity of subjects and the not over-serious form in -which they were served up appealed to a public which hitherto had had to -be satisfied with the half-measures of those previous men who had been -bold enough to undertake the editing of 'varsity papers. - -The beginning of the last decade of the century saw the _debut_ of _The -Loiterer_, which admittedly took its idea from Terrae Filius. Naturally, -it did not resemble it in style--the time for a Terrae Filius was -over--but in so much as Amhurst went no farther than the university gates -for his matter, _The Loiterer_ may be said to have imitated him. -Consequently, the first volume (there were only two) was practically -confined to subjects of academical life. The second volume, however, was -not reserved wholly to university matters--articles of outside interest -being admitted from time to time. The whole work was offered to the world -by the editors as "a rough, but not entirely inaccurate Sketch of the -Character, the Manners, and the Amusements of Oxford, at the close of the -eighteenth century." The paper was hawked at threepence a copy every -Saturday morning--for which price the editors promised, on their word of -honour as gentlemen and authors, to cram it as full of learning, sense, -and wit as they could possibly afford for the money. As a foretaste of the -threepenny wit to come, they stated in their foreword that they hoped to -receive some credit for one thing at least, "that particular orders have -been given to Mr Rann (the publisher) that _The Loiterer_ should regularly -make his appearance at Nine o'clock, in order to be served up with the -bread and butter, crusts and muffins, and enter the room in good company. -We have been the more particular in this circumstance," they continued, -"as it is the only hour, out of the twenty-four, in which there is a -probable chance of finding some of our Brother Loiterers at home, and the -only one in which any of them read: so genteel and so useful indeed is -this love of morning study, that were it not for the necessity of eating -breakfast, and of dressing hair, it is to be doubted whether some of our -numerous fraternity would not, in a short time, forget their letters." - -This serving up with breakfast was a very wise move on the editors' part, -for they knew from experience that it was the only hour when they stood -the least chance of being read--the rest of the day being passed by most -men in the strenuous occupation of killing time. The writer of article -number four in _The Loiterer_ was on his way to a lecture one morning when -he saw a man whom he knew leaning against the college gate with a vacant -expression on his serene countenance. Thinking that the poor fellow did -not know what to do with himself, the writer offered to take him to the -lecture which, he said, was to be remarkably entertaining. The lounger was -most polite in his thanks, and said he should have liked it above all -things, but that at the moment he was extremely busy and really had not -time. The writer, a little surprised, left him and attended the lecture, -returning two hours later to find the man leaning against the same -gate-post in nearly the same attitude. - -In the face of such stagnation who shall deny the wisdom of sending the -paper in with the hot roll, thereby catching the time-killers before they -have begun their day's task? The writer concluded his narrative of ancient -lounging and reflections on the passing of the law whereby Undergraduates -were forbidden under severe penalties to loiter away their time in sitting -on Pennyless Bench, by giving the diary of a week in the life of an -Undergraduate in 1789. It is an extremely excellent and amusing piece of -work, which shows that there were past-masters in the gentle art of -slacking who seriously challenge some of the present-day exponents. - - "DIARY OF A MODERN OXFORD MAN (1789). - - "_Sunday._--Waked at eight o'clock by the scout, to tell me the bell - was going for prayers--wonder those scoundrels are allowed to make - such a noise--tried to get to sleep again, but could not--sat up and - read Hoyle in bed--ten, got up and breakfasted--Charles called to ask - me to ride--agreed to stay until the President was gone to - Church--half after eleven, rode out, going down the High Street saw - Will Sagely going to St Mary's--can't think what people go to church - for. Twelve to two, rode round Bullington Green, met Careless and a - new Freshman of Trinity--engaged them to dine with me--two to three, - lounged at the stable, made the Freshman ride over the Bail, talked to - him about horses: see he knows nothing about the matter--went home and - dressed--three to eight, dinner and wine--remarkable pleasant - evening--sold Rackett's stone horse for him to Careless's friend for - fifty guineas--certainly break his neck--eight to ten, coffee-house, - and lounged in the High Street--Stranger went home to study; am afraid - he's a bad one--engaged to hunt to-morrow and dine with - Rackett--twelve, supped and went to bed early, in order to get up - to-morrow. - - "_Monday._--Racket _rowed_ me up at seven o'clock--sleepy and queer, - but forced to get up and make breakfast for him--eight to five in the - afternoon, hunting--famous run, and killed near Bicester--number of - tumbles--Freshman out on Rackett's stone horse--got the devil of a - fall into a ditch--horse upon him--but don't know whether he was - killed or not. Five, dressed and went to dine with Rackett--Dean had - cross'd his name, and no dinner to be got--went to the Angel and - dined--famous evening till eleven, when the Proctors came and told us - to go home to our colleges--went directly the contrary way--eleven to - one, went down into St Thomas's and fought a raff--one, dragged home - by somebody, the Lord knows whom, and put to bed. - - "_Tuesday._--Very bruised and sore, did not get up till twelve--found - an imposition on my table--mem. to give it to the hairdresser--drank - six dishes of tea--did not know what to do with myself, so wrote to my - father for money. Half after one, put on my boots to ride for an - hour--met Careless at the stable--rode together--asked me to dine with - him and meet Jack Sedley, who is just returned from France--two to - three, returned home and dressed--four to seven, dinner and wine--Jack - very pleasant--told some good stories--says the French women have - thick legs--no hunting to be got, and very little wine--won't go there - in a hurry--seven, went to the stable, and then looked in at the - coffee-house--very few drunken men, and nothing going forwards--agreed - to play Sedley at billiards--Walker's table engaged, and forced to - go to the Blue Posts--lost two guineas--thought I could have beat him, - but the dog has been practising in France--ten, supper at - Careless's--bought Sedley's mare for thirty guineas--think he knows - nothing of a horse, and believe I have done him. Drank a little punch - and went to bed at twelve. - -[Illustration: OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING.] - - "_Wednesday._--Hunted with the Duke of B.--very long run, rode the new - mare, found her sinking, so pulled up in time and swore I had a shoe - lost--to sell her directly--buy no more horses of Sedley--knows more - than I thought he did.--Four, returned home, and as I was dressing to - dine with Sedley, received a note from some country neighbours of my - father's to desire me to dine at the Cross--obliged to send an excuse - to Sedley--wanted to put on my cap and gown--cap broke and gown not to - be found, forced to borrow--half after four to ten, at the Cross with - my _Lions_--very _loving_ evening indeed--ten, found it too bad, so - got up and told them it was against the rules of the university to be - out later. - - "_Thursday._--Breakfasted at the Cross, and walked all the morning - about Oxford with my Lions--terrible flat work--Lions very - troublesome--asked an hundred and fifty silly questions about every - thing they saw. Wanted me to explain the Latin inscriptions on the - monuments in Christ Church Chapel!--Wanted to know how we spent our - time!--forced to give answers as well as I could. Four, forced to give - them a dinner and, what was worse, to sit with them till six, when I - told them I was engaged for the rest of the evening, and sent them - about their business--seven, dropped in at Careless's rooms, found him - with a large party, all pretty much _cut_--thought it was a good time - to sell him Sedley's mare, but he was not quite drunk enough--made a - bet with him that I trotted my poney from Benson to Oxford within the - hour--sure of winning, for I did it the other day in fifty minutes. - - "_Friday._--Got up early and rode the poney a foot pace over to Benson - to breakfast--Old Shrub breaks fast--told him of the bet and showed - him the poney--shook his head and looked cunning when he heard of - it--good sign--after breakfast rode the race, and won easy, but could - not get any money; forced to take Careless's draught; daresay its not - worth two pence; great fool to bet with him. Twelve till three, - lounged at the stable, and cut my horse's tail--eat soup at - Sadler's--walked down the High Street--met Rackett, who wanted me to - dine with him, but could not because I was engaged to Sagely--three, - dinner at Sagely's--very bad--dined, in a cold hall, and could get - nothing to eat--wine new--a bad fire--tea-kettle put on at five - o'clock--played at Whist for sixpences, and no bets--thought I should - have gone to sleep--terrible work dining with a studious man--eleven, - went to bed out of spirits. - - "_Saturday._--Ten, breakfast--attempted to read _The Loiterer_; but it - was too stupid; flung it down and took up 'Bartlett's Farriery'--had - not read two pages before a dun came, told him I should have some - money soon--would not be gone--offered him brandy--was sulky, and - would not have any--saw he was going to be _savage_, so kicked him - downstairs to prevent his being impertinent. Thought perhaps I might - have more of them, so went to lounge at the stables--poney got a bad - cough--and the black horse thrown out two splints--went back to my - room in an ill-humour--found a letter from my father, no money and a - great deal of advice--wants to know how my last quarter's allowance - went--how the devil should I know?--he knows I keep no accounts--do - think fathers are the greatest _Bores_ in nature. Very low-spirited - and flat all the morning--some thought of reforming, but luckily - Careless came in to beg me to meet our party at his rooms, so altered - my mind, dined with him, and by nine in the evening was very happy." - -It is amazing to think how many men there are in this year of grace -nineteen hundred and eleven who, if they should take it into their heads -to keep a diary, would have to write down page after page of exactly the -same stuff, would express exactly the same sentiments about their father, -and whose projects of a lasting reform would be for ever scattered by just -such a careless tap upon their oak. And yet it is written: _Tempora -mutantur_! - -_The Loiterer_ was not sold only to the local public at Oxford. It had a -quite large outside circulation, with agents in London, Birmingham, Bath, -and Reading, and ran for a year and three months. At the end of this -period the authors, the principal ones, revealed their identity and -retired from the editorial pinnacle into the comparative oblivion of their -Fellowships, having cause to congratulate themselves upon no small -success. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet._--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford._--_The - Oxford Act._--_The Oxford Sausage._--Present and latter day literature - summed up. - - -There were many other minor literary outputs which made their appearance -from time to time through the century, but it would be tedious to analyse -all of them. The outstanding ones were _The Oxford Packet_, _Academia: or -the Humours of Oxford_, _The Oxford Act_, Tom Warton's fighting poem -entitled _The Triumph of Isis_, and _The Oxford Sausage_. - -_The Oxford Packet_ was a purely topical piece of writing containing -heated articles on the burning questions of the moment in Oxford. It was -published in London, "printed for J. Roberts in 1714," with a list of -contents including "(1) News from Magdalene College (Sacheverell's -Inscription on a piece of plate); (2) Antigamus: or a Satire against -Marriage, written by Mr Thomas Sawyer; (3) A Vindication of the _Oxford_ -Ladies, wherein are displayed the amours of some Gentlemen of _All Souls_ -and _St John's Colleges_." - -_Academia_, perpetrated by a woman, Alicia d'Anvers, ridiculed the manners -and customs of the university in a pointed and quite scurrilous manner. It -lived up to its sub-title, however, for it was an extremely humorous piece -of work. - -In 1733 there appeared the _The Oxford Act_, a ballad opera. A crude and -unamusing play, it is nevertheless interesting as containing the germ of -modern musical comedy. The idea of the piece was to satirise university -politics, but the lack of construction and the laboured manner in which -the dramatist introduced his songs and manoeuvred his characters makes it -tedious and rather difficult to appreciate. - -_The Triumph of Isis_ was occasioned by a denunciation of Oxford by a -Cambridge man, William Mason, who was guilty of a poem entitled _Isis_. In -it he taunted Oxford upon the degeneracy of her sons who - - "... madly bold - To Freedom's foes infernal orgies hold." - -This was more than any devoted son of _Alma mater_ could stand. -Accordingly, Tom Warton, stung to a retort, girded up his loins and flung -off _The Triumph of Isis_, in which he hurled ten thousand thunderbolts at -_The Venal Sons of Slavish Cam_. Dr Anderson, who wrote a preface to the -collection of Warton's poems, says, "It is remarkable that though neither -Mason nor Warton ever excelled these performances, each of them as by -consent, when he first collected his poems into a volume, omitted his own -party production."[23] - -It was not until 1764 that _The Oxford Sausage_ was concocted. Its title -is singularly apt. It was a volume of choice scraps--selected pieces in -prose and verse which had already made their appearance in other and -earlier publications. It included several poems by Tom Warton, who edited -_The Sausage_, and contained others from _The Student_ and the _Oxford -Journal_. - -These then are the literary productions which distinguished the eighteenth -century in Oxford. From the numerous excerpts and passages quoted in -preceding chapters it will have been seen that there is not only an -enormous difference between the writing of the eighteenth century and -to-day in style and treatment, but in the method of conducting a paper. -To-day it is quite impossible to call a spade a spade. In those days it -was exactly the opposite. The whole point of writing was to call things by -their proper names. In fact, any other method would have been completely -misunderstood. The morals of the time were not more lax than now--that -would be impossible--but the language employed was, to put it mildly, very -much more unguarded. - -Matters were openly discussed in the drawing-rooms of the eighteenth -century which nowadays are supposed to be whispered in smoking-rooms. -Drunkenness and other kindred vices were held in high esteem. It was "the -thing" for him who had any aspirations to be a man of the world to have a -half dozen bottles of wine to his own cheek at one sitting, and unless he -succeeded in arriving at that state of helplessness which necessitated -bodily assistance from persons unknown, he was a dismal social failure. -Women, whose husbands were carried home night after night, smiled -leniently and did not dream of interfering. Many ladies indeed did not -deny themselves the solace of the bottle, and in the records of the time I -have found more than one reference to women who were well-known, almost -licensed, topers. The question of toasts, too, and the light in which the -university held them, was Gilbertian. The statutes sternly forbade them -under penalty of dire pains and punishments, but for all practical -purposes the statutes were a waste of time. Oxford was famed for her -toasts, and their dealings were not confined solely to the gownsmen but -also to Dons and Heads of colleges, who, far from carrying out the -statutes which they had made, pooh-poohed them and indulged themselves to -their heart's content. - -With such a condition of things it is not very remarkable that the -literature of the time should be characterised by coarseness of language -and ideas. Its humour was of the riper kind which permitted of no -possible misunderstanding. Many of the jokes printed in such periodicals -as the _Oxford Journal_ and the _Oxford Magazine_--both papers in high -repute which circulated among Dons, Undergraduates and residents--would be -quite unprintable to-day even in the most yellow of the sporting papers. -The pen of Amhurst was hampered by no considerations of delicacy or -modesty. Whatever he felt on any subject that he wrote, boldly and without -mincing, and the fact that his articles were read with interest and -delight by male and female alike is proof that there is no blame attaching -to him for scurrility. He was merely in the period. There are also -instances of women who wrote with almost the same degree of frankness as -did Alicia d'Anvers, who had, as I have shown, an immodesty of style -unique in the entire century. She satirised all the manners, customs, -hobbies and vices of the university with flagrant lack of good taste -which, judging by the characteristics of the time, made her poem a great -success. - -In the eighteenth century there were neither advertisements--except in the -_Oxford Journal_, and they were few in number--nor athletic fixtures. The -editors, therefore, had to rely entirely upon the merits of the articles -printed in their paper. Their sole hope of life lay in circulation, and as -they had not then discovered such "adventitious aids" as idols and open -letters, they were forced to do their utmost to make their paper bright -and readable. That they did so is obvious from the great number of -contributors who sent in articles regularly, and that, too, without any -hope of payment. - -From the point of view of journalism there is no paper in Oxford to-day -which can survive a comparison with Terrae Filius. He did not go outside -the university for his subjects, and yet in each paper he was topical, -forcible, and to the point. Beyond this he was amusing, and there was a -sting in each single word which made the unhappy subject of his attack -squirm in his place. He did not indulge in long-winded and abortive -discussions about matters of no interest whatever to the university, such -as are invariably to be seen in twentieth-century papers. He instinctively -hit upon the only subject each week that was before the eye of Oxford, and -in straightforward, pithy language wrote it down, laughed at it, or cried -over it. In whatever spirit he treated it he left nothing more to be said. -He used it up, exhausted it, and turned to the next point. Not having any -advertisers to consider--and he would certainly not have considered them -had they existed--he said what he wanted to say without fear or favour, -and if he did not attain to such financial success as does the milk and -water stuff of to-day, he did establish, beyond all argument, a reputation -which has already survived two centuries. Which of the existing Oxford -journals can hope to compete against such a record? - -However much eighteenth-century writers merit the charge of -coarseness--and it is not laid at their door in the spirit of blame but -merely as an illustration of things as they existed--they undoubtedly -attained a higher literary standard than the Undergraduate writers of -to-day. As, however, I have said that the modern standard does not rise -above mediocrity, I am not paying a very great compliment to the writers -of the Rowlandson period. Such is, however, my intention, for I cannot see -that there is such great brilliance in the eighteenth-century papers as to -justify my launching out into paeans of adulation. In all the publications -of the time there were, as I have shown, some excellent pieces of writing. -The sonnets and epigrams, dashed off at the coffee-houses to the beauties -of the reigning toast, were filled with classical allusions and subtle -parallels. This is somewhat remarkable because the Bloods admittedly never -did any reading. They had no time for it. However likeable and readable -these were, there was no genius, no striking merit in any of them. They -certainly showed more promise than the greater part of the work of -twentieth-century Oxford men--a point which is emphasised by the fact that -our predecessors were generally three or four years younger on going up to -the university. To-day we go up at about nineteen years of age. In those -days it was the fashion for men to arrive in Oxford in their fifteenth or -sixteenth year. - -With the exception of Nicholas Amhurst, from whom I have drawn with so -much pleasure, there can be found no Undergraduate of Georgian times whose -genius, in however crude a form, awoke in the pages of university -literature. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student's_ opinion of one--A Tradesman's poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties--Tradesmen's taste in - literature--Advertising and _The Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, - innkeeper--Amhurst's confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts. - - -Like Nemesis, the Oxford tradesman has sooner or later to be reckoned -with. His methods are, and for that matter always were, rather -spider-like. He sets out a beautiful and enticing web in his shop window, -and sits placidly in the darkness of his back parlour to await results. -One after another the Undergraduates, foolish flies, dash in; and then, -when they have been given sufficient time--a year or so--the spider -pounces and demands his just, but frequently exorbitant, dues. Sometimes -he does not get them. Spiders, however, rarely come in for any sympathy. - -The old-time Oxford tradesman was undoubtedly a man of parts. In all the -periodicals of the time are to be found odes, couplets, and prose-writings -all singing his praise. He constituted a factor of importance in the daily -routine of eighteenth-century life. It must, indeed, have been a sick -Smart who did not visit daily his barber and _perruquier_, his -horse-dealer, his tobacco merchant, his mercer and tailor, his -coffee-house. These worthy townsmen seem to have been, in fact, the sole -_raison d'etre_ of the Smart's university career, and their pseudo -erudition and quite exceptional powers were the cause of an enthusiastic -article from the pen of _The Student_. - -"A tradesman of Oxford," he wrote, "is no more like another common -tradesman than some collegians are like other men ... the very sign-posts -express their taste for learning and superiour education. Our mercers, -milliners, taylors, etc., etc., have shewn their nice judgments in the art -of designing, by the many curious emblematical devices that so eminently -adorn the entrances to their shops. How sublime are the signs of our -innkeepers! the Angel, the Cross, the Mitre, the Maidenhead, with many -others, are too well known to need mentioning. A tooth drawer amongst us -denotes his occupation by an excellent poetical distich; a second with -great propriety stiles himself operator for the teeth: and my printer who -sells James's fever powder, Greenough's tinctures, Hoopers' female pills, -and the like, exhibits to our view in large golden letters over his door -the pompous denomination of Medicinal Warehouse. Nor are we at all -surprised to see written in this learned university, tho' over a female -bookseller's door, 'BIBLIOPOLIUM MARIAE,' etc. - -"Not to dwell too minutely on externals, every tradesman with us is a -mathematician, or philosopher, or divine, or critick, and what not? But -they are all to a man particularly famous for their skill in arithmetick. -For my own part I never dealt with one yet who was not thoroughly -practised in addition and multiplication. - -"I know an ale-houseman (he sells an excellent pot of ale) who has made -several experiments in electricity, but without a machine: I know a -grocer, a profound reasoner and speculative moralist, a bookbinder deeply -read in Geography, Chorography, etc., and a glazier, a great -mathematician, who has squar'd the circle several time _all but a little -bit_. A barber has published a cutting poem lately, which is universally -admired, and all his own making. It is not to be doubted that our Oxford -booksellers are excellent criticks. They can tell you the character of a -book by only looking at the title page. My own, in particular, is so fine -a judge of composition, that he begs me not to send anything to the press -till it has been submitted to his correction. Besides, I know he has a -strong desire to begin author himself, but his singular modesty will not -permit him to own it. He has, therefore, prevailed with me to erect a -small box, with a slit, in his door to receive the contributions of those -writers who chuse to be concealed. As I know the man's vanity will oblige -him sometimes to put in his mite, I desire the reader, when he meets with -anything particularly dull, to suppose it written, not by me, but my -bookseller. - -"I have often heard two learned tradesmen chop logick together on the most -sublime topicks. Once, in particular, I was present at a very important -dispute, when a shoemaker (a very honest fellow) affirmed, to the general -satisfaction of his audience, that the world was eternal from the -beginning, and would be so to the end of it. At another time, the -discourse running upon politics, a mercer (no small man, I can assure you) -wonder'd what a duce we would have. 'I'm sure,' says he, 'there's not a -happier Island in England than Great Britain; and a man may chuse his own -Religion, that he may, whether it be Mahometism or Infidelity.' A little -while ago I lent my Smith's harmonicks to my Musick-master, who has since -return'd it, assuring me that it is not worth a farthing; for 'twould -teach me the Thievery mayhap, but as for the Practicks, he'll put me into -a betterer method. I could produce many more such instances which I have -gleaned from their conversations; but these will be sufficient to convince -the world that no subject is too high, no point too intricate for their -exalted capacities.... I cannot conclude better than by giving a specimen -of an Oxford tradesman's poetical genius, in an extract of a letter from -my taylor, who (in the college phrase) put the dun upon me. In my answer I -advised him to peruse Philips's description of a dun in his splendid -shilling: to which he made me this reply.... 'But now to that which, you -say, breaks all friendship, a dun, horrible monster! I have _bruis'd_ -Philips, though, in some places too hard. As to the appellation, I cannot -think it rightly apply'd.' - - "For I - Ne'er yet did thunder with my vocal heel, - Nor call'd yet thrice with hideous accent dire; - But only with my pen declar'd my dread, - What most I fear'd, the horrid catch-pole's claw. - - "But you, - Whom fortune's blest with splendid shilling worth, - Ne'er fears the monster's horrid faded brow, - Fed with the produce of blest Alb'on's isle, - With juice of Gallic and Hispernian - Fruits, that doe chearful make the heart of man, - Thus sink my muse into the deep abyss, - As low as Styx or Stygia's bottom is." - -"_N.B._"--wrote _The Student_ in italics at the foot of this wonderful -poem, "I have paid him." - -There is a certain amount of pathos underlying that delightful piece of -mock praise. The thought of the mercers, grocers, shoemakers, and the rest -honestly believing themselves to have attained to a most unusual degree of -learning, by reason of their propinquity to a university, and parading -their monumental ignorance under that belief, is a very painful one. It is -even more painful, looking to the fact that most tradesmen, connected in -any way with Academic Oxford, read _The Student_ regularly, to know that -the above stream of ridicule did not enlighten them as to the truth. - -Another man who had evidently had the dun put upon him, not once but many -times, by sulky tradesmen, received (so at least it is to be supposed) an -unexpected windfall with which he settled all outstanding debts. The -wonderful and unaccustomed feeling of showing a clean slate was so strong -that he was moved to an ecstasy of versification to relieve himself. - - "The man, who not a farthing owes, - Looks down with scornful eye on those - Who rise by fraud and cunning, - Tho' in the Pig-market he stand - With aspect grave and clear-starched band, - He fear's no tradesmen's dunning. - - "He passes by each shop in town, - Nor hides his face beneath his gown, - No dread his heart invading; - He quaffs the nectar of the Tuns - Or on a spur-gall'd hackney runs - To London, masquerading. - - "Place me on Scotland's bleakest hill, - Provided I can pay my bill, - Hang every thought of sorrow, - There falling sleet, or frost, or rain - Attack a soul resolv'd in vain; - It may be fair to-morrow." - -From the fact that the man in debt had to hide his head beneath his gown -in order to get past the shops safely or else to pursue the longer but -less risky method of slinking down back streets so as to avoid meeting -creditors, it is certain that the shopkeeper who had lost his patience, -and was intent on nothing but getting his money back, was looked upon as a -fearsome and dreaded creature. His war tactics, aided by free access to -his customer's rooms, consisted of serving writs freely--putting the dun -upon his victims. One way to evade the serving was to sport the oak and -remain in voluntary confinement. Such a method was not, however, popular -as there was no alternative but work to relieve the tedium of such -imprisonment. Another way was described in the diary of a modern Oxford -man in _The Loiterer_. This "modern" gentleman was slacking away the -boring hour after breakfast in the perusal of "Bartlett's Farriery" when -there came a tap at his door, and in strode a dun with an insolent smirk. -The Undergraduate politely explained that he was shortly expecting a very -healthy windfall from home, upon receipt of which he would immediately pay -what was owing. The dun received this news with cold disbelief and refused -to be put off. Upon being offered brandy he became "sulky," and refused -with a touch of irritation. Then the Undergraduate, enraged at such -insolence, rose in his wrath and kicked the fellow down stairs to stop him -from becoming more impertinent. - -The dun must have possessed a curious character. Knowing well the -propensities of Undergraduates, he did not, like a wise man, imbibe the -liquid refreshment so generously offered to him, and depart with the -knowledge that payment, for that day at least, was impossible. Instead, he -refused brandy and waited to be kicked out--without, apparently, having -served his writ. - -The question of advertising was in those days only in its infancy. The -tradesman patronised Jackson's _Oxford Journal_ to a certain extent. In it -are to be found curiously worded announcements of medicines, books, -cock-fights, curacies to be drunk or eaten for, dancing masters who were -exclusive to the peerage, election paragraphs, and public notices; while -advertisements for wives and husbands, or loans of money, were not -infrequent. One of the most up-to-date and cunning methods then practised -was for two rival tradesmen to get up a mock ink-slinging match in the -columns of some periodical, and week after week furiously to denounce each -other as cheats, tricksters, and knaves, the one saying that the other -sold inferior goods, and _vice versa_. - -_The Loiterer_, prowling round incognito in search of copy for his next -issue, witnessed a "circumstance" as he calls it, connected with -advertisements, which is not unamusing. He was seated in his favourite -elbow chair in his usual corner at King's coffee-room, and had almost -despaired of picking up an idea, when he noticed a very reverend and -respectable gentleman who was apparently quite unknown to every one in the -room, and who seemed more engrossed in his own thoughts than amused by the -newspaper he was reading or the laughter and talk from the others in the -coffee-room. Suddenly, calling for his bill, he finished reading a -paragraph in the paper with upraised eyebrows and a note of horrified -surprise in his voice. "Upwards of forty thousand persons of both sexes! -Good God," he said, "what a state must the cities of London and -Westminster be in!" The elderly gentleman rose, and on his way out placed -the paper into _The Loiterer's_ hand. Every one in the room had heard his -remark and observed the manner of his exit. Immediately, therefore, there -was great excitement, every one wondering what amazing thing had happened -that could have escaped his notice while reading that very paper. _The -Loiterer_ began calmly to read solidly through column after column to find -this wonderfully exciting paragraph. While he was doing so a thin, -emaciated man "with a sallow and diseased countenance who, I have now -reason to believe was one of the forty thousand, stepped forward and -elucidated the mystery in a moment." - -He rapped out an oath and swore that the old gentleman had been meditating -on the advertisement of Leake's Justly Famous Pill. - -From this perturbing episode in the coffee-house _The Loiterer_ got the -idea of using his paper for the discussion of the peculiarities of -advertisement indulged in by tradesmen, local and otherwise. "I shall pass -over," he says, "the various wants of mankind, together with the pompous -Descriptions, the florid and luxuriant Language of Auctioneers which is -capable of converting a paltry Cottage into an elegant Villa. Nor shall I -dwell on a curious Phenomenon, a political Advertisement for the Sale of -Perfumery and the Dressing of Hair. But it is impossible with the same -indifference to pass over the ingenious Mr ---- who sells his Wines 'for -the [Greek: podas okys] of ready Money only, Wines in which neither the -eyes of Argus, nor the Taste of Epicurus, can discover the least -sophistication.' - -"One advertisement informs us, that Chimney pieces, another that -Candlesticks, are 'fashioned according to architectonic Models, and -agreeable to the affecting chastity of the Antique.' A third lets us know -how much we are obliged to the Legislature, 'that he is now enabled to -offer Pomatum to the public agreeable to the commercial Treaty'.... What -Lady, 'who excites admiration on account of the superior charms that -animate her Complexion,' can withstand an Advertisement of the Palmyrene -Soap? Every systematical old Fellow that wishes to know the exact number -of yards which he walks in a day, will certainly furnish himself with 'the -Pedometer, or Way-wiser.' And I make no manner of doubt that all the -Gentlemen Sportsmen of this University will find it impossible to resist -the persuasive nonsense and absurdity of 'Guns matchless for shooting; or -twisted barrels, bored on an improved plan, that will always maintain -their true velocity, and not let the Birds fly away after being shot, as -they generally do with Guns not properly bored, this method of boring Guns -will enable every Shooter to Kill his Bird, as they are sure of their mark -at ninety yards; he bores any sound Barrel for Two Guineas, and he makes -them much stronger than before.' If we take this Fellow's own word we must -allow him, without a pun, to be the greatest Borer in the kingdom." - -The system of "tick" seems to have been very simple. It was only necessary -to enter a shop and order things in large quantities for the tradesman to -allow credit. In the case of dirty Dick, who was lured into becoming a fop -by the report of the appreciative remarks which the lady Flavia was -supposed to have made about him, the only thing which had to be done to -gull the ever-obliging tradesman was to spread a rumour that the sloven -had come in for a legacy. The result was instantaneous, and Dick became a -Smart; but whether anybody was ever paid is not on record. The various -inns, ale-houses, coffee-houses and wig-makers had little need to -advertise. The Undergraduates did that for them. In nearly every poem and -sonnet that ever was written the praises are sung of Tom's or James's or -Clapham's or Lyne's or Hamilton's, while the great Tom Warton immortalises -three "Peruke-Makers" in his _Ode to a Grizzle-Wig_. - - "Can thus large wigs our Reverence engage? - Have Barbers thus the Pow'r to blind our Eyes? - Is Science thus conferr'd on every Sage, - By Bayliss, Blenkinsop, and lofty Wise?" - -While on the subject of innkeepers there is an example of the consummate -impudence of Terrae Filius which is most worthy of note. He compared the -Rev. Dr Newton, Principal of Hart Hall, to an innkeeper, in a letter upon -Dr Newton's book entitled "University Education." - -"Some persons it seems," wrote Amhurst, "have entertained a notion, that -your hall is no more than an inn, of which you are the host, and your -scholars the guests. I am sorry, sir, to say that there seems to be some -reason in this notion, however merrily you may please to treat it. For do -you not, like other innkeepers, get your living, and maintain your family -by letting lodgings, and keeping an ordinary for all comers? Are you not -licens'd for so doing, like other innkeepers and retalers of beer, though -by a different hand? Indeed, you sell logick and other sorts of learning, -as well as provisions for eating and drinking; but that cannot destroy the -character of an innkeeper, which you certainly are in all other respects, -but only proves that you deal in some particulars which your brethren of -the trade do not.... You have, no doubt, the same right, with other -innkeepers, to bring in a bill, and demand your reckoning, when you -please; which I do not hear that Mr Seaman, or any other of your guests -ever refused to pay; but I believe you are the only landlord in town who -would offer to detain his guests by force, after they had paid their -reckoning, and oblige them to spend more of their money in his house, -whether they will or not." - -All these subtle parallels were, of course, not intended as compliments. -To call a Head of a Hall an innkeeper is not exactly to take off one's hat -to him. But Amhurst forgot that in a previous chapter he made a proud -confession of his own humble origin. His discourse was of great men sprung -from small beginnings. - -"What," he asked, "was of old the famous Cardinal Wolsey but a butcher's -son?... Nay, to go no farther, even I myself, overgrown as I am in fame -and wealth, stiled by all unprejudiced and sensible persons the instructor -of mankind, and the reformer of the two universities, am by birth but an -humble plebeian, the younger son of an ale-house keeper in Wapping, who -was for several years in doubt which to make of me, a philosopher, or a -sailor: but at length birthright prevailing, I was sent to Oxford, scholar -of a college, and my elder brother a cabin boy to the West Indies." - -But why drag in Wolsey? - -In King Charles's letter against the women of the university of Cambridge -he banned the houses of all taverners, inn-holders or victuallers. It was -this class of tradesmen in Oxford who brought up their daughters as -toasts. This was the reason why a statute was passed "Prohibiting all -scholars, as well Graduates as Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to -frequent the houses and shops of any tradesmen by day, and especially by -night...." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr Newton on - tutor's fees--Dr Johnson's recommendation of Bateman--Public - lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham man's letter. - - -Just as the schoolmaster is considered the natural enemy of boys, so is -the Don popularly credited with being the natural enemy of the -Undergraduates. The originator of this wonderful theory is presumably the -lady novelist who, with no deeper knowledge of Oxford than that obtained -from a minute study of the coloured photographs in railway trains, has -pictured the Don in her vivid imagination to be a crusty, inhuman, and -gouty septuagenarian who, in the intervals of delivering abstruse -lectures, passes his days in sending men down and otherwise suppressing -all vitality and humanity. - -Anything more completely ridiculous it would be impossible to imagine. -Conceive a body of charming and delightful men, very kindly and -sympathetic, always ready to go out of their way to help a man in -financial or moral difficulties, cultured, intellectual, hard working, -thorough sportsmen in the best sense of that much abused word, full of -loyalty to their college and to the university, delighted by the athletic -or scholastic triumphs of the men with whom they are in close contact--and -then you do not obtain anything more than a true description of those men -who do so much to uphold the honour of the university, and who are -remembered with respect and even affection by the generations of -Undergraduates who pass through their hands. - -The eighteenth-century Don, on the contrary, was a person altogether -different. In the desire to bring out the light and shade of his -personality I am frustrated by the superabundance of the latter and the -minute quantity of the former. In dealing with the Georgian Don I have -taken each species separately: the Tutor, the Lecturer, the Examiner, the -Head of a college, and so forth. - -It appears that the old-time fresher, having been admitted to a college, -was at once recommended to a tutor whom he interviewed in his rooms. The -Hoxton man, who came up with his mother and his dad, found himself called -upon by his prospective tutor to sit down and make small work of several -quarts of liquid refreshment to the healths of various "traitors." Being -somewhat flurried at this boisterous reception, the lad was assured that -he did not come to the university to pray, and that in any case, he, the -tutor, would look after him like a father. Of being called upon to do any -work with him there was no whisper. Gibbon, on the other hand, on being -placed under the tutorship of Dr Waldegrave, was desired to attend that -gentleman's rooms each morning from ten to eleven and read the _Comedies -of Terence_. This he accordingly did, but with so little advantage to -himself that, after a few weeks, he quietly dropped away and saw his tutor -no more. To counterbalance the accusation of slackness against Dr -Waldegrave, Gibbon described him as having been a "learned and pious man -of a mild disposition, strict morals and abstemious life, who seldom -mingled in the politics or jollity of the college." This worthy man -departed from the precincts of Magdalen, and Gibbon had nothing good to -say for his successor. "The second tutor," wrote Gibbon, "whose literary -character did not command the respect of the college, well remembered that -he had a salary to receive, and only forgot that he had a duty to -perform.... Excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms during the titular -months of his office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same college as -strangers to each other." - -The vindicator of Magdalen leaped into the breach on behalf of the tutors -against Gibbon, and gave a hundred reasons why Gibbon was in the wrong. -But there are numberless other instances of utter laziness among that -section of the Don world. Malmesbury, for instance, related in his usual -cheery and optimistic manner, that his tutor, "an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practice of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to do trigonometry." This witness matriculated at -Merton thirteen years after Gibbon's time. - -Another example of bad tutorship may be quoted from William Fitzmaurice, -second Earl of Shelburne, who went up in 1753. "At sixteen, I went to -Christ Church, where I had again the misfortune to fall under a -narrow-minded tutor.... He was not without learning, and certainly laid -himself out to be serviceable to me in point of reading.... I came full of -prejudices. My tutor added to those prejudices by connecting me with the -anti-Westminsters, who were far from the most fashionable part of the -college, and a small minority."[24] - -In the light of these adverse criticisms it is interesting to note the -statutorial view as to the ideal tutor. According to Amhurst, who quoted -statute (_d_), it was ordained that "no person shall be a tutor who has -not taken a degree in some faculty, and is not (in the judgment in the -head of the college or hall to which he belongs) a man of approv'd -learning, probity and sincere religion." But can these requirements be -called sufficient if the hundreds of tutors against whom their pupils -flung accusations of slackness, drunkenness, and other hobbies, all -satisfied them? - -_The Loiterer_, evidently with this insufficent statute in mind, made some -very intelligent remarks _a propos_ of this question. "Scarce any office," -he wrote, "demands so many different requisites in those who would fill it -properly, as that of a college Tutor, and in none perhaps is propriety of -Choice so little attended to. The Tutor of a College goes off to a Living, -dies of an Apoplexy, or is otherwise provided for; a Successor must be -found; and as few who have better prospects chuse to undertake so -disagreeable an office, the Society is sometimes under the necessity of -appointing a person, who is no further qualified for it than by the -possession of a little classical, or mathematical information. With this -slender stock of knowledge, and without any acquaintance with the World or -any insight into Characters, He enters on his office with more Zeal than -Discretion, asserts his own opinions with arrogance and maintains them -with obstinacy, calls Contradiction, Contumacy, and Reply, Pertness, and -deals out his Jobations, Impositions, and Confinements, to every ill-fated -Junior who is daring enough to oppose his sentiments, or doubt his -opinions. The consequence of this is perfectly natural. He treats his -pupils as Boys and they think him a Brute. From that moment all his power -of doing good ceases; for we learn nothing from him, who has forfeited our -confidence. Such is the Portrait of what Tutors too often are, might I be -indulged in pointing out what they _should_ be, very different would be -the Character I should sketch. I would draw him modest in his disposition, -mild in his temper, gentle and insinuating in his address; scarce less a -man of the world than a man of letters. His Classic Knowledge (though far -above mediocrity) should be the least of his acquirements; General -Knowledge should be his forte, and the application of it to general -purposes his aim. He should not only improve those under his care in his -publick lectures, but should endeavour at least to direct them in their -private studies; he should encourage them to read, and should teach them -to read with taste." - -At this point _The Loiterer's_ friend interrupted and insisted that no man -was ever born to be a tutor if tutors must possess all the attributes -contained in that description. Upon this _The Loiterer_ said that he knew -only one man in the entire university who came up to the standard, and -that man was his own tutor. - -Gibbon made a scornful allusion to the salary of tutors. On this subject -Dr Newton penned a multitude of indignant sheets because a certain -Undergraduate, named Joseph Somaster, demanded permission to leave Hart -Hall and transfer himself to Balliol for the reason that he had an offer -of obtaining a tutor there who required no fees. With regard therefore to -tutors' fees, "it may be observed," wrote the reverend Doctor, "that the -University doth allow Tutors to Receive a consideration for their care of -the Youth entrusted to them; that, as this is very Reasonable in itself, -so hath it ever been the Practice of Tutors to Receive a Consideration for -such their care; that the consideration they have received, not being -limited by any Statute, hath varied, and is, at this day, different in -different Houses of Education within the University; that the tutor's -demand being known, and not objected to before a Scholar is enter'd under -his care, the same, upon entrance, becomes the consideration that is -agreed to be paid for his care. That the Labourer is worthy of his Hire; -that some Hire is both a better Encouragement to a Tutor, and a greater -obligation upon him to take a due care, than no Hire; that the greatest -Hire, of which any tutor in the University is, at this day thought worthy, -compar'd with the Expence he hath been at, and the Pains he hath taken, -and the Years he hath spent in order to Qualifie himself for this trust, -and also, with the further Labour and Time he must employ in discharging -it faithfully, is very small. That unless Learning be the very lowest of -all attainments, and the Education of Youth the very lowest of all -Professions, Thirty Shillings a Quarter, for near three times as many -Lectures, is not so extravagant a demand, as that he who pays it, should -do it with an unwilling hand. Much less that any one, who hath Himself -been a Tutor, and who hath experienc'd a faithful Tutor's trouble and -anxiety, should think it too much for any of his Fellow-Labourers in the -same Vocation, although their circumstances should be so affluent that -they need not any reward, or their Friendship so particular that they do -not desire it."[25] - -In the time of Dr Johnson the college tutors lectured in Hall as well as -in their own rooms, and, in addition, they set weekly themes for -composition--for the non-performance of which the fine was half a crown. -The day for giving in these themes was Saturday. George Whitefield, though -only a poor starveling servitor with scarce a penny to bless himself with, -was twice fined by his tutor because he failed to compose his theme. - -Christopher Wordsworth in his book on the universities in the eighteenth -centuries made it clear that when Dr Johnson was at Pembroke in 1728, -"Undergraduates generally depended entirely upon the Tutor to guide all -their reading. His first tutor Jordon was like a father to his pupils, but -he was intellectually incompetent for his important position. For this -reason Johnson recommended his old schoolfellow Taylor to go to Christ -Church on account of the excellent lectures of Bateman then tutor there." -In Johnson's own words in reference to Mr Jordon, "He was a very worthy -man, but a heavy man, and I did not profit much by his instructions. -Indeed, I did not attend him much. The first day after I came to college, -I waited upon him, and then staid away four. On the sixth, Mr Jordon -asked me why I had not attended. I answered, I had been sliding in -Christchurch meadow. And this I said with as much non-chalance as I am now -talking to you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my -tutor." To this self accusation Boswell replied, "That, Sir, was great -fortitude of mind!" "No, Sir," snapped Johnson, "stark insensibility."[26] - -It is unnecessary to arraign further damning evidence against the Georgian -tutor. He stands convicted on the cases which I have related. Were I -called upon indeed to summon other witnesses for the prosecution, I have -but to turn to any eighteenth-century authority. No one has a word to say -in his favour. By every one he is pronounced to be an idle, -self-indulgent, dishonest, utterly unintellectual creature, conspicuously -lacking in "learning, probity, and sincere religion." - -The next division of the genus Don is the public lecturer, in regard to -whom there are, so Amhurst informed us, a number of statutes concerning -the public lecturers in all faculties: appointing, with the utmost -exactness, where they shall read, when they shall read, what they shall -read, how they shall read, and to whom they shall read. "All these (as I -have frequently observed) are almost totally neglected; out of twenty -public lectures, not above three or four being observed at all, and they -not statutably observed: for the auditors, who belong to the same college -with the lecturer in any faculty, do not wait upon him to the school, -where he reads, and back again, as they ought to do; so far from it, that -not one in ten goes to hear these lectures, nor do they (who do attend) -take down what they hear in writing; neither do they (I believe) -diligently read over the same author at home, which the public professor -undertook to explain; nor are persons punished (as the statutes require) -for any of these omissions." Even if it be admitted that three or four is -an exaggeratedly low estimate of the number of these lectures, and that -the "auditors" are just as lazy as the men who deliver them, yet it is not -to be wondered at that the Undergraduates did not read over the authors, -or write down what they heard. All the lectures were delivered by Dons who -knew next to nothing about their subject, and they were in consequence -very tedious and worthless affairs. - -The lectureships were bestowed "upon such as are utterly and notoriously -ignorant of them, and never made them their study in their lives. They are -given away, as pensions and sinecures, to any body that can make a good -interest for them, without any respect to his abilities or character in -general, or to what faculty in particular he has apply'd his mind. I have -known a profligate _debauchee_ chosen professor of moral philosophy; and a -fellow, who never look'd upon the stars soberly in his life, professor of -astronomy; we have had history professors, who never read anything to -qualify them for it, but Tom Thumb, Jack the Giant-killer, Don Belicanis -of Greece, and such like valuable records; we have had likewise numberless -professors of Greek, Hebrew and Arabick, who scarce understood their -mother tongue; and, not long ago, a famous gamester and stock-jobber was -elected to M--g--t, professor of divinity; so great it seems is the -analogy between dusting of cushions, and shaking of elbows, or between -squand'ring away of estates, and saving of souls!" - -[Illustration: A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD.] - -Terrae Filius was moved to the above denunciations and reminiscences of -lecturers, who, he said, were elected perhaps on the principle that "he -can do no mischief; ergo, he shall be our man," by the receipt of a -letter from a Wadham man who recounted his own personal experiences of -lecturers and their ways. It runs thus:-- - - "WADHAM COLLEGE, _Jan. 22, 1720_. - - "_To the Author of Terrae Filius._ - - "SIR,--I hope you intend to acquaint the world, amongst other abuses - in what manner the pious designs of those good men, who left us all - our publick lectures, are answered. Yesterday morning at nine a clock - the bell went as usually for a lecture; whether a rhetorical or - logical one, I cannot tell; but I went to the schools, big with hopes - of being instructed in one or the other, and having saunter'd a pretty - while along the quadrangle, impatient of the lecturer's delay, I ask'd - the major (who is an officer belonging to the schools) whether it was - usual now and then to slip a lecture or so: his answer was that he had - not seen the face of any lecturer in any faculty, except in poetry and - musick, for three years past; that all lectures besides were entirely - neglected.... Every morning in term time there ought to be a divinity - lecture in the divinity school; two gentlemen of our house went one - day to hear what the learned professor had to say upon that subject: - these two were join'd by another master of arts, who without arrogance - might think that they understood divinity enough to be his auditors; - and that consequently his lecture would not have been lost upon them: - but the doctor thought otherwise, who came at last, and was very much - surprized to find that there was an audience. He took two or three - turns about the school, and then said, 'Magistri vos non estis idonei - auditores; praeterea, juxta legis doctorem Boucher, tres non faciunt - collegium--valete;' and so went away. Now it is monstrous, that - notwithstanding these publick lectures are so much neglected, we are, - all of us, when we take our degrees, charg'd with and punish'd for - non-appearance at the reading of many of them; a formal dispensation - is read by our respective deans, at the time our grace is proposed, - for our non-appearance at these lectures, and it is with difficulty - that some grave ones of the congregation are induced to grant it. - Strange order! that each lecturer should have his fifty, his hundred, - or two hundred pounds a year for doing nothing, and that we (the young - fry) should be obliged to pay money for not hearing such lectures as - were never read, nor ever composed...." - -In the face of personal experience of this kind how is it possible to -believe that to obtain a degree was anything but a question of independent -work or the judicious administration of "pourboires"? To attend at the -right hour for a lecture which was never read, to be fined for -non-attendance, and finally to have great difficulty in persuading the -authorities to sign the necessary dispensation is a Gilbertian absurdity. -No other instance more striking than this letter can be found in all the -eighteenth-century chronicles of the attitude of Dons towards the -Undergraduates in their charge. Once certain of their annual stipend their -duties went by the board; and the Dons, whether lecturers or Heads of -colleges, whether they knew each other personally or not, banded together -to ensure their own safety, and signed to a lie in regard to the -delivering of lectures with the utmost unconcern. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining--College - Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the Magdalen Dons--Heads - of colleges--Their domestic and public character--Golgotha and Ben - Numps--St John's Head pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and - Randolph. - - -After the lecture comes the examination, so the examiner shall be the next -in line. Now the examiners were appointed by the senior Proctor, who -administered to them the following oath: "That they will either examine, -or hear examined, all candidates that fall to their lot, in those arts and -sciences, and in such manner as the statute requires. Likewise that they -will not be prevailed upon by entreaties, or bribes, or hatred or -friendship, or hope or fear, to grant any one a _testimonium_, who does -not deserve it, or to deny it to any one that does." The examiners were, -however, in the same parlous condition as the lecturers and tutors. - -The most mild of all the adverse criticisms was that of Henry Fynes -Cliton, who was at the House in 1799. He said that the examiners -discouraged Undergraduates from making a wide choice of authors for their -schools, and that if any one anxious for first-class honours took an -author not included in the abbreviated list as given out by them, they -would find a way to stop him from obtaining the coveted class. - -This entirely bears out the statement of Amhurst, who said that the -examiners were entirely ignorant of the subjects in which they examined, -and that the whole system was a farce and a scandal. - -"How well the examiners perform their duty," he wrote with almost -apathetic resignation, "I leave to God and their own consciences; tho' my -shallow apprehension cannot reconcile their taking a solemn oath, that -they will not be prevail'd upon by entreaties or bribes, or friendship, -etc., with their actually receiving bribes, and frequently granting -_testimoniums_ to unworthy candidates, out of personal friendship and -bottle acquaintance. It is a notorious truth, that most candidates get -leave of the proctor, by paying his man a crown (which is called his -perquisite) to choose their own examiners, who never fail to be their old -cronies and toping companions. The question therefore is, whether it may -not be strongly presumed from hence, that the candidates expect more -favour from these men, than from strangers; because otherwise it would be -throwing away a crown to no purpose; and if they do meet with a favour -from them, _quaere_ whether the examiner is not prevail'd upon by -intreaties or friendship." - -Another method of procedure then very popular was for the examiner to -receive "a piece of gold" or an "handsome entertainment" from each of the -candidates, or else to be made drunk by him the night before the -examination. The candidate took care to provide sufficient drink to keep -his man occupied busily till morning, and then they adjourned, "cheek by -joul," from their drinking room to the school. "_Quaere_" demanded Terrae -Filius again, "whether it would not be very ungrateful of the examiner to -refuse any candidate a _testimonium_, who has treated him so splendidly -over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail'd upon by -bribes?" - -Vicesimus Knox of St John's made very much the same statements about the -examiners, and added that during the time when they were closeted with the -candidates in the schools they did nothing but discuss the latest drinking -bout (which took place the night before), or talk horses, or read -newspapers and novels till the clock struck eleven--when they all -descended, and the _testimonium_ was signed without a twinge of -conscience. - -But college Fellowship was, perhaps, one of the most abused offices in -existence. Once nominated to a Fellowship, however unfit to occupy the -position, a Don was settled for life. He had a fixed income, did no work, -and worried about nothing but to retain his own particular corner chair at -the King's Head tavern or elsewhere. He stagnated for the rest of his -natural life, and became gross by dint of perpetual drinking. On the sad -subject of college Fellows T. J. Hogg, writing of Shelley at Oxford, told -us that at the end of the eighteenth century, - -"If a few gentlemen were admitted to Fellowships, they were always absent; -they were not persons of literary pretensions, or distinguished by -scholarship; and they had no more share in the government of the college -than the overgrown guardsman.... - -"A total neglect of all learning, an unseemly turbulence, the most -monstrous irregularities, open and habitual drunkenness, vice, and -violence, were tolerated or encouraged, with the basest sycophancy, that -the prospect of perpetual licentiousness might fill the colleges with -young men of fortune; whenever the rarely exercised power of coercion was -exerted, it demonstrated the utter incapacity of our unworthy rulers by -coarseness, ignorance, and injustice." - -Terrae Filius devoted one chapter, peculiarly conspicuous for its lack of -satirical venom, to the dissection of Fellows. His article was occasioned -by a report in all the papers of the death of Dr Pudsey, one of the senior -Fellows of "Maudlin College (who) died there last week aged near an -hundred years." "This," said Amhurst, "gives me an opportunity of -discoursing upon what I have always thought one great error in the -constitution of most colleges; which I will do with only this preface, -that I hope no body will think I design, in what I shall say, to reflect -on the deceas'd old gentleman before mention'd. The original design of -endowing colleges was undoubtedly this, to support such persons as could -not bear the charges of a learned education themselves, till they were -able to shift in the world, and become serviceable to their country; for -this reason all scholars and fellows (of most colleges at least) are -obliged to take an oath, that they are not worth so much per annum _de -proprio_, in some colleges more, and in some less; but in all colleges the -meaning of the oath is the same, that no person shall benefit of the -foundation who can live without it; but this oath, like other oaths, is -commented away, and interpreted so loosely, that, at present it does not -exclude persons of four or five hundred pounds a year.... When any person -is chosen fellow of a college, he immediately becomes a freeholder, and is -settled for life in ease and plenty; provided only that he conforms -himself to the ceremonies and caprices of the place, which very few will -stick at, who delight in such an indolent and recluse state; at first, -indeed, he is obliged to perform some insignificant, superficial -exercises, and to get a few questions and answers in the sciences by rote, -to qualify him for his degrees; but when these are obtain'd, he wastes the -rest of his days in luxury and idleness; he enjoys himself, and is dead to -the world; for a senior fellow of a college lives and moulders away in a -supine and regular course of eating, drinking, sleeping, and cheating the -juniors.... In many colleges the fellowships are so considerable, that no -preferment can tempt some persons to leave them; they prefer this -monastic, and (as they call it) retired life to any employment, in which -they would be obliged to take some pains, and do some good." - -Such remarks from the mouth of Terrae Filius are indeed quiet, but -however lacking in sparkle, they are filled with the truth. Turn where we -may, on every hand, the Fellows of colleges are written down and left -without one saving quality. - -The state of Magdalen, as related by Gibbon, was no better and no worse -than that of any other college. "The fellows or monks of my time," -according to him, "were decent, easy men, who supinely enjoyed the gifts -of the founder; their days were filled by a series of uniform employments; -the chapel and the hall, the coffee-house and the common room, till they -retired, weary and well satisfied, to a long slumber. From the toil of -reading, or thinking, or writing, they had absolved their conscience; and -the first shoots of learning and ingenuity withered on the ground, without -yielding any fruits to the owners or the public. As a gentleman commoner, -I was admitted to the society of the fellows, and fondly expected that -some questions of literature would be the amusing and instructive topics -of their discourse. Their conversation stagnated in a round of college -business, Tory politics, personal anecdotes, and private scandal; their -dull and deep potations excused the brisk intemperance of youth; and their -constitutional toasts were not expressive of the most lively loyalty for -the house of Hanover.... The example of the senior fellows could not -inspire the undergraduates with a liberal spirit or studious -emulation."[27] - -The common room, with its accompaniments of tobacco and liquor, formed the -scene in which the greater portion of their parts was acted by the -Fellows; for the rest, the taverns and coffee-houses, where the meetings -of jovial societies, of which they were members, were held. By way of -exercise, an occasional horse ride; nothing more. Their other chief hobby -was, in the language of the time, "wenching." Amazingly enough, they -still had sufficient energy, after living such a life, to array themselves -in all their glory, and sally forth to pay homage at the feet of the toast -of the day. In their attempts to cut out the Smarts in the affections of -the reigning queen, Merton Wall and Paradise Gardens saw them daily. -_Liaisons_ with their neighbour's wives, bedmakers, and bedmaker's -daughters were everyday occurrences; so openly, indeed, were these things -done, that songs were composed in various clubs of the doings of certain -Fellows mentioned by name, and satirical poems were written about them; -but there the matter ended. - -The character of a Head of a college, taken "in a more private view, -amongst their fellows in their respective colleges," was thus delineated -by Amhurst. "A director or scull of a college is a lordly strutting -creature, who thinks all beneath him created to gratify his ambition and -exalt his glory; he commands their homage by using them very ill; and -thinks the best way to gain their admiration is to pinch their bellies and -call them names, as the most tyrannical princes have always the most loyal -subjects; he is very vicious and immoral himself, and therefore will not -pardon the least trip or miscarriage in another; he is a great profligate, -and consequently a great disciplinarian; he petrifies in fraud and -shamelessness, and is never properly in his element but when he is either -committing wickedness himself, or punishing the commission of it in -others." So much for his domestic character. In the exercise of his public -functions he was one of a gang who "have as persidiously broken as great a -trust reposed in them by the Government, the nobility, gentry, and -commonality of England; that, under pretence of advancing national -religion and learning, they have introduced national irreligion and -ignorance; and instead of promoting loyalty and peace have encouraged -treason and disturbance; that they have debauched the principles of youth -instead of reforming them; that they have been guilty of wicked and -infamous practices of all sorts; ought they not, likewise, to be punish'd -in the most rigorous manner?" - -Amhurst found this a very sore subject, for, later on, he bore out the -theory of the promotion of ignorance, and said that they did their utmost -to prevent learning. "Whatever portion of commonsense they possess -themselves, they take especial care to keep it from those under their -tuition, having innumerable large volumes by them, written on purpose to -obscure the understanding of their pupils, and to obliterate or confound -all those impressions of right or wrong which they bring with them to the -universities; their several systems of logic, metaphysics, ethics, and -divinity are calculated for this design, being fill'd up with inconsistent -notions, dark cloudy terms, and unintelligible definitions, which tend not -to instruct, but to perplex, to put out the light of reason, not to assist -or strengthen it; and to palliate falsehood, not to discover truth." - -As further evidence of the amazing egoism and brutality of "Sculls," it is -worth while to quote the story of a Head of Balliol who held office in -these times. "A young fellow of Balliol College having, upon some -discontent, cut his throat very dangerously, the master of the college -sent his servitor to the buttery book to sconce (that is, fine) him five -shillings, and, says the doctor, tell him that the next time he cuts his -throat I'll sconce him ten!" - -Whenever there was important academical business afoot the Vice-Chancellor -and Sculls met in solemn conclave in Golgotha, the state room in the -Clarendon building. The room was handsomely decorated and wainscotted. The -wainscot was said to have been put up by order of a man of humour who went -up to Oxford for a degree without "any claim or recommendation." He -promised, however, in exchange for the degree to become a benefactor of -the university. The Sculls thereupon hurriedly engaged workmen who began -running up the wainscot, and they "clapp'd a degree upon his back." But as -soon as the degree had been granted, the benefactor disappeared, and the -Sculls were left to pay the workmen with money out of their own -pockets--which, of course, had been previously plundered from the -university. - -It was in this room that all the weighty business of the university was -conducted. In the amusing words of Amhurst, "if any sermon is preach'd, if -any public speech or oration is deliver'd in derogation of the church, or -the university, or in vindication of the Protestant succession, or the -Bishop of Bangor, hither the delinquent is summon'd to answer for his -offence, and receive condign punishment. In short, all matters of -importance are cognisable before this tribunal: I will instance only one, -but that very remarkable. A day or two before the late Queen died, a -letter was brought to the post-office at Oxford, with these words upon the -outside of it, _we hear the queen is dead_; which, being suspected to -contain something equally mischievous within, was stopt, and carried to -the Vice-Chancellor, who immediately summon'd his brethren to meet him at -Golgotha about a matter of the utmost consequence: when they were -assembled together he produced the letter before them; and having open'd -it, read the contents of it in an audible voice; which were as follow:-- - - "'ST JOHN'S COLLEGE, _July 30, 1714_. - - "'HONOURED MOTHER,--I receaved the Cheshear chease you sent ma by - Roben Joulthead, our waggoner, and itt is a vary gud one, and I thanck - you for itt, mother, with all my hart and soale, and I promis to be a - gud boy, and mind my boock, as yow dezired ma. I am a rising lad, - mother, and have gott prefarment in college allready; for our sextoun - beeing gonn intoo Heryfoordshear to see his frends, he has left mee - his depoty, which is a vary good pleace. I have nothing to complayne - off, onely that John Fulkes the tailor scores me upp a penny strong a - moost everyday; but I'll put a stopp to it shortly, I worrant ye: I - beleave I shall do vary well, if you wull but send me t'other crowne; - for I have spent all my mony at my fresh treat (as they caul itt) - which is an abominable ecstortion, but I coud not help itt; when I cum - intoo the country, I'le tell you all how it is. So no more att this - present: but my sairvice to our parson, and my love to brother Nick - and sister Kate; and so I rest.--Your ever dutiful and obedient son, - - "'BENJAMIN NUMPS.' - -"When he had done reading, the Sculls look'd very gravely upon one another -for some time, till at length Dr Faustus, late of New college, got up and -spoke to them in the following manner:-- - - "'GENTLEMEN,--The words of this letter are so very plain and - intelligible in themselves, that I wish there is no latent and - mysterious meaning in them. How do we know what he means by the - cheese, which he thanks his mother for? or how do we know that he - means nothing else by it, but a cheese? Then, he desires his mother to - send him t'other crown; now what, I conjure you all tell me, can he - mean by that other crown but the elector of Hanover; especially as he - tells us on the outside of his letter that the _queen is dead_? These - rebels and roundheads are very fly in everything they do; they know we - have a strict eye over them; and therefore if this Benjamin Numps - should be one of them, and have any such ill designs in his head, to - be sure, if he expected to succeed, he would not express himself to be - understood. So that, with all submission to my reverend brethren, I - think that we ought to sift this matter thoroughly, for fear of the - worst;' and sat down." - -A gentleman referred to as Father William then rose to reply. The grave Dr -Faustus did not overawe him as he overawed the rest. Father William, in -scathingly sarcastic language, told him that he was a fool, a John o' -dreams, always suspecting mischief where none was meant. "Who but you," he -said, "would ever have suspected treason in a Cheshire cheese?" The man -Numps, he explained to the reverend Sculls, was simply a poor servitor but -lately entered into his own college, who had not the brains necessary to -think out any plot. Therefore the fellow was sent for. He entered, -trembling in every limb at the sight of all these learned authorities -sitting in solemn conclave, and acknowledged his fault "full of sorrow and -contrition," and humbly asked their pardon. - - * * * * * - -Such was the characteristic manner in which the Heads ruled the -university, and the above incident is a typical instance of the weighty -business which arose from day to day. They were the counterpart of the -Pharisees, who strained at gnats and swallowed camels. In connection with -the headship of St John's College there existed a rather curious custom. -The Don elected to the Presidentship led the whole college, arrayed in -fullest academical garb, down to Christ Church, where they did homage. -Dibdin related that when Dr Marlowe succeeded to the President's Chair of -St John's College they were received at the "House" by Dr Cyril Jackson, -then Dean of Christ Church. After the performance of what Dibdin calls a -"humbling piece of vassalage" which was conducted with great pomp and -formality, the members of St John's returned, and were duly regaled with a -sumptuous repast by the newly-elected President who went to the various -common rooms--the masters by themselves, the bachelors by themselves, and -the scholars and commoners each in their particular banqueting room. There -he drank wine with them, and was loudly toasted. "I remember one forward -freshman," said Dibdin, "shouting aloud on this memorable occasion as the -new President retreated-- - - "'Nunc est bibendum; nunc pede libero - Pulsanda tellus!' - -"The stars of midnight twinkled upon our orgies; but this was a day never -to come again. Dr Marlowe sat for thirty-three years in the Presidental -Chair."[28] - -Having read accounts of all the pompous, evil-living and unpopular Heads -for whom nobody had a good word, it is refreshing to come across records -of thoroughly-liked men like Dr Marlowe of St John's and Dr Randolph of -Corpus, of whom R. L. Edgeworth sang the praises. "Dr Randolph," he said, -"was at that time (1761) president of Corpus Christi College. With great -learning, and many excellent qualities, he had some singularities, which -produced nothing more injurious from his friends than a smile. He had the -habit of muttering upon the most trivial occasions, _mors omnibus -communis!_ One day his horse stumbled upon Maudlin bridge, and the -resigned president let his bridle go, and drawing up the waistband of his -breeches as he sat bolt upright, he exclaimed before a crowded audience, -_mors omnibus communis!_ The same simplicity of character appeared in -various instances, and it was mixed with a mildness of temper, that made -him generally beloved by the young students. The worthy doctor was -indulgent to us all, but to me in particular upon one occasion, where I -fear that I tried his temper more than I ought to have done. The gentlemen -commoners were not obliged to attend chapel on any days but Sunday and -Thursday; I had been too frequently absent, and the president was -determined to rebuke me before my companions. 'Sir,' said he to me as we -came out of chapel one Sunday, 'you _never_ attend Thursday prayers!' 'I -do _sometimes_, sir,' I replied. 'I did not see you last Thursday. And, -sir,' cried the president, rising into anger, 'I will have nobody in my -college' (ejaculating a certain customary noise, something between a cough -and the sound of a postman's horn), 'sir, I will have nobody in my college -that does not attend chapel. I did not see you at chapel last Thursday.' -'Mr President,' said I, with a most profound reverence, 'it was impossible -that you should see me, for you were not there yourself.' Instead of being -more exasperated by my answer, the anger of the good old man fell -immediately. He recollected and instantly acknowledged, that he had not -been in chapel on that day. It was the only Thursday on which he had been -absent for three years. Turning to me with great suavity, he invited me to -drink tea that evening with him and his daughter. This indulgent -president's good humour made more salutary impression on the young men he -governed than has ever been effected by the morose manners of any -unrelenting disciplinarian."[29] - -Dr Randolph, Dr Marlowe, and the tutor of _The Loiterer_ are the only -three men whom I have been able to discover whose integrity was beyond -question. Three out of a whole century of Dons explains many things! It -proves the truth of the grave charges of vice, irreligion and perpetual -sloth brought against the Dons of the century, by every writer of the -time. It explains the bad government of colleges, general licentiousness, -and scholastic negligence which were the main characteristics of Georgian -Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of a - degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from Black - Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Izaak Walton and the senior - Proctor--Amhurst's character sketch of a certain Proctor. - - -The Proctor and his bull-dogs (entailing sudden scuttlings down side -streets, which, if abortive, lead to the nine o'clock string outside that -gentleman's door, and the unwilling disbursement of goodly sums--the fine -for being out of college at an unstatutable hour was 40s.!--because -forsooth, a man had the misfortune to cross his path without being arrayed -in statutable garb), loomed darkly on the eighteenth-century skyline. -Wrapped in the safe embrace of trencher and gown it was possible to watch -the great Proctors - - "... march in state - With velvet sleeves and scarlet gown, - Some with white wigs so hugely grown - They seem to ape in some degree - The dome of Radcliffe's Library." - -It was the redoubtable senior Proctor who was the guardian of the Black -Book, the register of the university, in which he recorded the name of any -person who affronted him or the university. The mere inscription of a name -in the Proctor's book may not seem a very fearful punishment, but it takes -on a darker aspect when it is discovered that no person so recorded might -proceed to his degree till he had given satisfaction to the Proctor who -had put him in. Amhurst explained that the Black Book into which the -Proctors put anybody "at whom, whether justly or not, they shall take -offence ... was at first design'd to punish refractory persons and immoral -offenders; but at present it is made use of to vent party spleen and is -fill'd up with whigs, constitutioners, and bangorians. So long as the -university has this rod in her hand, it is no wonder that high-church -triumphs over her most powerful adversaries; nor can we be at all -surpriz'd that Whiggism declines with the constitution club in Oxford, -when we behold people stigmatiz'd in the Black Book, and excluded from -their degrees for soberly rejoicing upon King George's birthnight, and -drinking his majesty's health." - -The question of making satisfaction to the Proctor who had inscribed a -name in that "dreadful and gloomy volume" was, in many cases at least, a -difficult and lengthy proceeding. The Merton Undergraduate, Meadowcourt, -who, as Steward of the Constitution Club, prevailed upon the Proctor to -join in drinking King George's health, was prevented for two years from -taking his degree. The "binge" was a quite considerable affair. Party -feeling ran high, and the Charles II. partisans gathered in their hundreds -outside the tavern in which the Constitutioners had foregathered. Amid -booing and hissing, they threw lighted squibs in at the windows. In a -subsequent interview with Mr Holt, the Proctor, Meadowcourt, having -apologised, learned that as far as Holt was concerned he had nothing -further to fear, but that Holt's brother Proctor, Mr White of Christ -Church, was vastly incensed, and had desired that "the power of taking -cognisance of, and proceeding against all that was done that night, might -be placed in his hands." To this Holt had agreed. Consequently Meadowcourt -found himself compelled to seek out Mr White. The interview was short and -stormy, the Proctor being in "an ungovernable passion, insomuch that he -often brandished his arm at him." - -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE.] - -Out of the doings of that adventurous, amusing and wholly reprehensible -evening the proctor White concocted the following charges which were duly -recorded in the Black Book, in all their pompous length:-- - - "_June 28th, 1716._ - - "Let Mr Carty of university College be kept from his degree, for which - he stands next, for the space of one whole year. - - "1. For prophaning, with mad intemperance, that day, on which he - ought, with sober chearfulness, to have commemorated the restoration - of King Charles the second and the royal family, nay, of monarchy - itself, and the church itself. - - "2. For drinking in company with those persons, who insolently boast - of their loyalty to King George, and endeavour to render almost all - the university, besides themselves, suspected of dissaffection. - - "3. For calling together a great mob of people, as if to see a shew, - and drinking impious execrations, out of the tavern window, against - several worthy persons, who are the best friends to the church and the - king; by this means provoking the beholders to return them the same - abuses; from whence followed a detestable breach of the peace. - - "4. For refusing to go home to his college after nine o'clock at - night, though he was more than once commanded to do it, by the junior - proctor, who came thither to quell the riot. - - "5. For being catch'd at the same place again by the senior proctor, - and pretending, as he was admonish'd by him, to go home; but with a - design to drink again. - - "Let Mr Meadowcourt of Merton College be kept back from the degree - which he stands for next, for the space of two years; nor be admitted - to supplicate for his grace, until he confesses his manifold crimes, - and asks pardon upon his knees. - - "Not only for being an accomplice with Mr Carty in all his faults (or - rather crimes), but also, - - "7. For being not only a companion, but likewise a remarkable abetter - of certain officers, who ran up and down the High Street with their - swords drawn, to the great terror of the townsmen and scholars. - - "8. For breaking out to that degree of impudence (when the proctor - admonish'd him to go home from the tavern at an unseasonable hour) as - to command all the company with a loud voice, to drink King George's - health. - - "JOH. W., _proc-jun._" - -In spite of the many entreaties on his behalf made by several -distinguished persons ("amongst whom were a most noble duke and a -marquis") Meadowcourt was unable to obtain the remission of his sentence, -and was compelled to wait the full two years before he could proceed to -his degree. At the end of that time both the proctors concerned had -retired, and the Merton man, upon applying to the proctor then in office, -was informed that nothing could be done until both Holt and White had been -consulted. The unfortunate man went from one to the other for weeks. They -"bandied it about, sending Mr Meadowcourt upon sleeveless errands," till, -at last, having jumbled their learned noddles together, they sent him a -paper containing the following articles, which they insisted should be -read by Mr Meadowcourt publicly in the Convocation House, before he might -proceed to his degree. - - "1. I do acknowledge all the crimes laid to my charge in the Black - Book, and that I deserved the punishment imposed on me. - - "2. I do acknowledge that the story of my being punish'd on account of - affection to King George, and his illustrious house, is unjust and - injurious, not only to the reputation of the proctor, but of the whole - university. - - "3. I do profess sincerely, that I do not believe that I was punish'd - on that account. - - "4. I am very thankful for the clemency of the university, in - remitting the ignominious part of the punishment, viz., begging pardon - on my knees. - - "5. I beg pardon of Almighty God, of the proctor, and all the masters, - for the offences which I have committed respectively against them; and - I promise that I will, by my future behaviour, make the best amends I - can, for having offended by the worst of examples." - -Having fought the almighty proctors thus far Meadowcourt was not, however, -the man to give in to such an absurdly overwhelming piece of indignity as -that proposed. He refused to read the paper, resolving rather to go -without his degree. He was advised, however, to plead the Act of Grace, -which he did after many further checks and delays. He emerged finally from -the unequal conflict with victory and a degree. This case I think amply -justifies Amhurst's assertion that the Black Book was used as a weapon -with which the proctors paid off personal insults and old scores, and the -injustice and abuse of the great power which they knew so cunningly how to -wield is only too apparent. - -The proctors, naturally enough, were vastly unpopular men and, supposedly, -realising this, did not go one iota out of their way to decrease the -general dislike attaching to them, but rather consoled themselves by -piling on the pains and penalties at every opportunity. The gownsmen were -not the only people who had a rooted objection to them on principle. Even -the townees and tradesmen regarded them with an unfriendly eye, and gave -them no assistance in the detection of Undergraduate delinquents. In -illustration of the light in which they were held by the townspeople -Amhurst related an amusing story. - -"A man who liv'd just by a pound in Oxford and kept an ale house put upon -his sign these words '_Ale sold here by the Pound_,' which seduced a great -many young students to go thither out of curiosity to buy liquor, as they -thought, by weight; hearing of which, the vice-chancellor sent for the -landlord to punish him according to statute, which prohibits all ale house -keepers to receive scholars into their houses; but the fellow, being -apprehensive what he was sent for, as soon as he came into the -vice-chancellor's lodgings, fell a spitting and a spawling about the room; -upon which the vice-chancellor ask'd him in an angry tone, what he meant -by that? - -"'Sir,' says the fellow, 'I am come to clear myself.' - -"'Clear yourself, sirrah!' says the vice-chancellor; 'but I expect that -you should clear yourself in another manner; they say you sell ale by the -pound.' - -"'No, indeed, Mr Vice-chancellor,' replies the fellow, 'I don't.' - -"'Don't you,' says the Vice-chancellor again, 'how do you then?' - -"'Very well,' replies he, 'I humbly thank you, Mr Vice-chancellor; pray -how do you, sir?' - -"'Get you gone,' says the vice-chancellor, 'for a rascal'; and turned him -downstairs. - -"Away went the fellow and meeting with one of the proctors, told him that -the vice-chancellor desired to speak with him immediately; the proctor in -great haste went to know the vice-chancellor's commands, and the fellow -with him, who told the vice-chancellor, when they came before him, that -here he was. - -"'Here he is!' says the vice-chancellor, 'who is here?' - -"'Sir,' says the impudent alehouse-keeper, 'you bad me go for a Rascal; -and lo! here I have brought you one.'" - -The proctors had the appointment of the examiners, and once now and again -they paid a surprise visit in their official capacity to the schools, when -the examinations (such as they were) were in progress. This was, however, -a "rare and uncommon occurrence." When prowling the streets in search of -whom they might devour their method was to search the coffee-houses and -smart establishments and give impositions to the "Bucks in boots" upon -whom they pounced. They left the ale-houses alone, or, in Tom Warton's -words:-- - - "Nor Proctor thrice with vocal Heel alarms - Our Joys secure, nor deigns the lowly Roof - Of Pot-house snug to visit: wiser he - The splendid Tavern haunts, or Coffee-house...." - -Izaak Walton described the senior proctor in 1616 as one who "did not use -his power of punishing to an extremity; but did usually take their names, -and a promise to appear before him unsent for next morning: and when they -did convinced them with such obligingness, and reason added to it, that -they parted from him with such resolutions as the man after God's own -heart was possessed with, when he said to God, There is mercy with thee, -and therefore thou shalt be feared (Psal. cxxx.). And by this, and a like -behaviour to all men, he was so happy as to lay down this dangerous -employment, as but few, if any have done, even without an enemy." - -The proctorship was therefore a difficult post to fill even a full century -before Amhurst was born to set down in black and white the iniquities of -his own time. Izaak Walton's proctor was the exception; Amhurst's seems -to have been the rule, and his character is given by Terrae Filius as -follows:-- - -"... of Christ Church, a tool that was form'd by nature for vile and -villainous purposes, being advanced to the proctorship, publickly -declar'd, that no constitutioner should take a degree whilst he was in -power. This corrupt and infamous magistrate had formerly been under cure -for lunacy, and was now very far relaps'd into the same distemper. He was -naturally the most proud and insolent tyrant to his betters, who were -below him in the university; but to those above him the most mean and -creeping slave. He was peevish, passionate, and revengeful; loose and -profligate in his morals, though seemingly rigid and severe. In publick, a -serious and solemn hypocrite; in private, a ridiculous and lewd buffoon. -An impudent pretender to sanctity and conscience, which he always us'd as -a cloak for the most unjust and criminal actions. In short, he was so -worthless and despicable a fellow, and had so scandalously overacted his -part in his extravagant zeal against the constitution club, that at the -expiration of his proctorship, when he appear'd as candidate for the -professorship of history, there were not above ten persons, besides the -members of his own college who voted for him." - -The anonymity of the blank space in front of the man's college is not -sufficient to conceal the fact that this character sketch, a bitter and -pointed attack, was most probably meant for the Mr White who distinguished -himself in the Meadowcourt case. As, however, from many instances, he -appears to have been no better and no worse than the generality of -proctors during the century, there is no reason why Amhurst's -denunciations should not be credited as descriptive of most of the others -of his kind. - -Modern Oxford has reason to congratulate herself that the reins of -government are no longer in such hands. There exist to-day none of the -abuses and vices which were so striking a feature of the eighteenth -century. They have all been swept away. Oxford has purged herself of them, -and in their place are to be found honesty, uprightness, and all the -cardinal virtues. The modern Don has nothing in common with his Georgian -predecessor. He relegates self to a discreet background, and devotes his -entire energies to the interests of those over whom he has authority; and -his pupils, on going down, harbour no feelings of contempt and -ill-feeling, but look on him instead as a man whose friendship is an -honour which must be treasured to the end. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards and - claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered afterwards--Edward - Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman - Catholic--Subsequent apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking - orders--Germs of ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism. - - -Academic Oxford of the eighteenth century has been thrown on to the screen -in different lights and from different sides. The Don, for the most part -inert in his elbow chair, puffing at his glazed pipe, with many bottles -and tankards at his elbow in the common room or the coffee-house; turning -up his nose at the impudence of any man who wanted to work; too lazy, and -in many cases too ignorant, to put skilful questions in the examinations; -abusing his trust as an examiner by receiving bribes, in the same manner -that he set the Undergraduates a lead in vice of all kinds outside the -schools; earnest and eager in political strife of the Vicar of Bray type; -keen on nothing but his own personal aggrandisement, either socially or -financially--in all these lights he has passed through the picture. We -have seen also the Undergraduate in all his class divisions--the humble -servitor receiving sixpence a week from each of his gentleman patrons, -doing the dirty work and odd jobs, keeping soul and body together on the -scraps that fell from the rich men's table, writing out their impositions -and scraping an education in the meanwhile, God knows how; the gentleman -commoner and the Smart, swaggering it abroad in the glory of their purple -and fine linen, sneering at the dull regulars, cutting lectures and -chapels, doing no work, incurring enormous expenses "upon tick," -following the example set by the Dons in drunkenness and wenching. We have -seen them amusing themselves, free from any kind of restriction, in -taverns, town and gown rows, on the river, in the cock-pit and the prize -ring, and dallying with the beauties under Merton Wall. - -Looking at all these things and to the general loose living which was the -keynote of the eighteenth century, we are apt to feel with Malmesbury that -it is a matter of surprise how so many of the Undergraduates made their -way so well and so creditably in the world. It has already been remarked -that the worth of Oxford lies not in the quality of the degree taken, but -in the education which environment and the association with better men -undoubtedly gives. The mere cramming of book knowledge would be useless -were it not accompanied by the far more important expansion of mind, the -broadening of outlook, and the formation of character brought about by the -social life of the university. This is palpably so in the case of the -eighteenth-century Undergraduate, since work was practically non-existent, -and a degree merely a matter of so much ready money. He could not do -anything else but take on the colour of the surroundings of vice and -intemperance which then reigned supreme. - -How is it then that any man emerged from the Oxford of this period and -succeeded in inscribing his name on the roll of fame? The reason is that -Oxford was a mirror in which was reflected London life. The metropolis was -simply Oxford on a larger scale, so that the Undergraduates were learning -at the university to do the things which would be expected of them in -after life; and the men who distinguished themselves at college were bound -to achieve renown later. The fame of such men as Charles Fox, the -pre-eminent statesman; Edward Gibbon, the historian; Malmesbury, the -diplomat; John Wesley, the founder of Methodism; Collins, the poet; and -the immortal Dr Johnson, is written down in the pages of history. - -Charles James Fox, one of the greatest statesmen England has ever seen, -came up from Eton to Hertford College[30] in 1764, where he was the -leading spirit in a little coterie which included James Harris, Earl of -Malmesbury, and William Eden, Baron Auckland. By his father he had been -initiated, while still at Eton, into the vice of gaming, by which he was -very deeply bitten. A still more curious fact is that although Fox as a -young man had no inclinations towards loose living he was taken over to -Paris and laughed into it by his otherwise doting parent. His innate force -of character, however, enabled him to resist what might have wrecked the -life of another man less strong, and although outwardly he was at Oxford -an idle gamester, yet in secret, in the small hours of the morning, he -worked exceedingly hard. Malmesbury has described this circle of friends -as a non-working, pleasure-loving body. Fox, as the leader of them, fell, -of course, under this category; but the results of his hours of private -grinding were quite extraordinary. He read "Aristotle's 'Ethics and -Politics,' with an ease uncommon in those who have principally cultivated -the study of the Greek writers. His favourite authors were Longinus and -Homer, with the latter of whom he was particularly conversant; he could -discuss the works of the Ionian bard, not only as a man of exquisite -taste, and as a philosophical critic, which might be expected from a mind -like his, but also as a grammarian. He was indeed capable of conversing -with Longinus, on the beauty, sublimity, and pathos of Homer; with -Aristotle on his delineations of man, with a pedagogue on dactyls, -spondees, anapaests, and all the arcana of language. History, ethics, -politics, were, however, his particular studies." - -Yet with all these accomplishments, which, in a period none too famous for -its learning, were all the more amazing, this extraordinary man was swayed -by his passion for gaming, and never behindhand in expeditions of debauch -with his companions. Cards were the favourite pastime then in vogue, and -it was round the baize-covered table that Fox cemented his friendship with -Malmesbury and Eden. These latter, both, subsequently, men of -international fame, also surrendered themselves completely to the -slackness of the time, and did their utmost to imitate with thoroughness -the London fops of whom they had some slight experiences before coming up. -While still gownsmen this triumvirate gave signs of their future -greatness. Their card parties were a centre of attraction, not because of -the high stakes for which they played, but for the wit and brilliance of -their conversation. Fox's eloquence was even then remarkable, and he had -"no cotemporary so erudite in knowledge, none so elegant in mirth." The -enormous possibilities of this Undergraduate were fully appreciated by the -college authorities. He was allowed to make trips to London, where, in the -company of his father, he went to the Houses of Parliament, and was a keen -listener at many of the great debates. When a proposal was on foot for Fox -to cross to Paris and make a stay of some months there, the Head of -Hertford granted him leave immediately with the unusual remark that such -application as his necessitated "some intermission; and you are the only -person with whom I have ever had connexion to whom I could say this." - -With characteristic thoroughness Fox outdid the most complete Smart in the -elegance of his dress. He made a special journey from Paris to Lyons for -the purchasing of waistcoats, and on his return to England was seen in the -Mall "in a suit of Paris-cut velvet, most fancifully embroidered, and -bedecked with a large bouquet; a headdress cemented into every variety of -shape; a little silk hat, curiously ornamented; and a pair of French shoes -with red heels; for the latter article of which he considered it of no -mean consequence that he was indebted to his own exclusive importation!" - -He had a great fondness for literature and poetry and, following the -customs of the times, he used occasionally to dash off an indiscreet -sonnet, or a more sound criticism of the current publications. Italian, he -declared, contained as a language more good poetry in it than any with -which he was conversant. The essential quality in any subject was that it -should be "entertaining." Without this, Fox refused to consider it. The -exact meaning which he read into the word is, however, somewhat difficult -to gather, for, writing to his friend Macarthey, he stated that he was -fond of mathematics and would concentrate upon it because it promised to -be entertaining. - -Oxford remained dear to Fox and the friendships he formed over the -card-table, and the various "rags" in which he took part were never -forgotten by him. When the triumvirate went down, their ways at first lay -separate. Eden's time was occupied first in getting called to the Bar, and -then, through the patronage of the Duke of Marlborough, to Parliament as -member for Woodstock. Malmesbury, an incipient diplomatist while still at -Winchester, left England and joined the British Embassy at Madrid. Fox -left Oxford before the age of twenty-one, and was immediately returned to -Parliament for Midhurst. For some twenty years the tide of life kept the -three apart, each striving in his own quarter. Then in 1782 Fox, who had -climbed higher up the ladder of fame than either of the other two, was -reminded of the old friendships of his Undergraduate days. Malmesbury, -then Sir James Harris, Knight of the Bath, was invalided home from the -Embassy at St Petersburg, and was instantly appointed by Fox to be -Minister at the Hague. The year after this, Eden, whose political career -under the banner of Lord North was a distinguished one, came again into -touch with Fox, and exerted himself to bring about a coalition between his -own chief and his old Oxford friend. It is practically certain that the -touch of sentiment roused by the remembrance of the old days, when Eden -and he played cards and drank claret beneath the spires of Oxford, was the -only reason why the coalition was brought about by Eden, for Fox -afterwards publicly avowed in the House of Commons, when the rupture -between North and himself was final, that "the greatest folly of his life -was in having supported Lord North." - - * * * * * - -"To the University of Oxford," wrote Gibbon in after years, "I acknowledge -no obligation; and she will as cheerfully renounce me for a son as I am -willing to disclaim her for a mother. I spent fourteen months at Magdalen -College; they proved the fourteen months the most idle and unprofitable of -my whole life." - -A boy of sixteen, thin and delicate, who from his earliest infancy had -fallen from one illness into another, possessed of an abnormal brain, and -for these two reasons shunning, and shunned by, his school-fellows both in -playground and classroom, and therefore compelled joyfully to fall back -upon books, with which he ate, drank, and slept--conceive such a boy, and -one sees Gibbon at Magdalen. Add to this the facts concerning the debauch, -the lack of "bookish fellows," the gross and inert Dons, all of which -characterised the times, and it is easy to appreciate the reasons why a -man like Gibbon, a high-strung, dreamy creature to whom any crowd of human -beings inspired positive fear, and whose interests were entirely removed -from wenching, drinking, and gaming, received no benefit from Oxford. He -went up intent on nothing but the pursuit of knowledge. In the course of -his dealings with his various tutors--which have already been set forth in -a previous chapter--he found that knowledge was to be obtained neither in -the lecture rooms nor the common rooms. To these latter, being a gentleman -commoner, he received invitations and went high in the expectation of -learned conversations and brilliant dialogue. He found instead no subjects -under discussion save horses, drink, and political preferment. This -beardless boy, practically self-educated and big with ideas upon the -important subjects of life, turned with disgust from the society of the -"port bibbing" and stagnant Fellows. With no definite course of studies to -occupy his attentions, and unchecked by any authority, the unaccustomed -feeling of liberty swept him into the infringement of rules and statutes. -To his tutor he gave casual excuses for non-attendance at lectures, and -disappeared from Oxford for days at a time. The unscholarly condition of -the university, and his own physical inability to join in any athletic -pursuits, united in preventing Oxford from making any impression upon him. -Her history, her architecture, her traditions, seem to have held no -interest for him, and he was more interested in making expeditions to -London and places in the surrounding country than in remaining in the -university and studying Undergraduate life. Even the beauty of Oxford's -old walls, tree-bordered lawns and walks, and winding river, made no -appeal to him. He was in sympathy with no single thing. It was a mistake -on his parents' part ever to have sent him up. A man of Gibbon's peculiar -temperament was entirely out of place in any university; more particularly -Oxford, in the state in which she then was. - -And yet in spite of the incompatibility between Gibbon and Oxford, his -university career was marked by an all-important incident in the -development of the great historian. By education and training he was a -Protestant, but, as was his habit with every subject to which he turned -his attention, he did not merely read books and swallow their contents as -indisputable facts. Everything he read was deeply pondered, made to pass -under his own criticism, and then compared with other authors on the -opposite side of the case. Consequently the subject of his own creed -underwent deep thought, and after reading Middleton's "Free Enquiry into -the Miraculous Powers which are Supposed to have Subsisted in the -Christian Church," Gibbon's religious beliefs were shaken. He decided that -Protestantism was inconsistent; he was dissatisfied with it. Filled with -the restlessness engendered by uncertainty, Gibbon read many works, -including Bossuet's "Variations of Protestantism" and "Exposition of -Catholic Doctrine," and the writings of the Jesuit priest, Father Parsons. -"These works," he said, "achieved my conversion"--the arguments in favour -of Roman Catholicism put forward by the Jesuit priest being the real -turning point in the scale. - -Having arrived at the conclusion that the Protestant religion paled into -insignificance before the Roman Catholic one, the Magdalen man felt that -he would know no happiness until he himself should join the ranks of the -"Papists." For once his thoroughness deserted him. He did not consider the -question--and the question of a man's entirely changing his religious -beliefs is a very vital one--with his usual exhaustiveness. Like a baby -with a new toy, Gibbon, the great and wonderful man of brain, world famous -and immortal, made a complete fool of himself. He rushed off to London -without more ado, and there, under the influence of a "momentary glow of -enthusiasm," "privately abjured the heresies" of his childhood before a -certain Father Baker, also a Jesuit, and became a Roman Catholic. For the -moment his belief was red hot, and he wrote a burningly defiant letter to -his father announcing his change of creed. The elder Gibbon at once -provided an excuse for his being sent down (a circumstance which very -probably would have come about on the Magdalen Dons' own initiative -without any excuse being offered to them), and packed him off to the care -of the Calvanistic minister at Lausanne, M. Pavilliard. The scattering of -the hastily-swallowed, undigested arguments which had brought about -Gibbon's precipitate action, was a matter of a few months to M. -Pavilliard, and in less than two years he was once more a fully convinced -Protestant. The ex-Magdalen man's _amour propre_ is fully demonstrated by -the unblushing assertion that although the Calvinist minister had "a -handsome share in his re-conversion," yet it was principally brought about -"by his own solitary reflections." Doubtless when he wrote those -statements he fully realised the extent and powers of his own brain, and -refused to admit that any ordinarily clever man could have, or ever did -have, any influence in swaying him from one point of view to another. One -is fully justified in assuming that had he not gone to a Calvinist -minister, but, instead, continued under the roof of a Jesuit priest, none -of the "philosophical arguments," to which he refers so glibly, would have -availed him, and Edward Gibbon, historian, would have remained a Roman -Catholic to the end of his days. - - * * * * * - -"Lord, let me not live to be useless!" was the constant prayer of John -Wesley, and it was the keynote of his character. The founder of the -Methodists, famous throughout the civilised world, and a man whose -personal magnetism and great brain were bound to bring him to the fore in -whatever profession he might have chosen, was actuated by a consuming -dread of being considered useless. A desire to achieve great things was -fostered during his Undergraduate days at Christ Church. He went there -with a sound knowledge of Hebrew, and began to achieve some note for his -skill in logic. This was the beginning of the growth of ambition, and the -fact that he was "noticed for his attainments" brought him great pleasure, -for at all times he bubbled over with humour and good spirits in full -realisation of his college notoriety. In consequence of this his -reluctance at taking orders, when proposed by his family, was marked. He -argued the question with himself fully while pacing his rooms at night, -and he wrote to his father and explained his reluctance. It is conceivable -that the life as led by gentleman commoners, with its wine parties, wild -escapades, and general moral carelessness may have been the reason of -Wesley's hesitation. For this clever, amusing lad was popular in his -college, and invited to take part in all the jollifications. Be that as it -may, the question of devoting his life to religion was a difficult one. -Wesley's self-examination, assisted by his father's scorn of becoming a -"callow clergyman," was doubtless attended by silent questionings as to -what was his speciality. The atmosphere and traditions of Oxford had laid -hold of him. The names of great men, sons of _Alma mater_, filled him with -the desire to emulate them, to excel them even. Their names were spoken in -awe and admiration. Why should not his be also? He was brilliantly clever, -of a clever family, and already had tasted the joys of fame in however -humble a manner. Why should he have to follow his father's lead and enter -the Church? Could he not do better for himself outside? Undoubtedly, for -there was more scope, less subjection to rules and orders, more individual -power. But, on the other hand, these speculations and desires to break -away were held in check by filial respect and love. His father and mother -were keenly desirous of his embracing a clerical life, and his mother -especially was of opinion that the sooner he entered into deacon's orders -the better, as it would be an additional inducement to "greater -application in the study of practical divinity." - -[Illustration: STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH.] - -Wesley, therefore, looked facts in the face and concentrated his whole -mind upon the study of theology. Since he could not be Prime Minister, he -would be a great religious man. He began by disagreeing with "The -Imitation of Christ," and held views on the question of humility which -lead one to believe that by this time the seeds of his ambition had grown -to trees. Jeremy Taylor's tenet, that we ought, "in some sense or other, -to think ourselves the worst in every company where we come," was flatly -contradicted by Wesley, who, although admitting absolute humility to God, -reserved the right to consider himself a better man than many another; for -when he was elected a Fellow of Lincoln, after he had been ordained, he -practically showed the door to all those of his visitors whom he thought -would do him no good, by reason of their not loving or fearing God. Then -an incident happened which had a lasting effect upon Wesley; which changed -his whole life. He travelled over to see what was called "a serious man." -Who this man was is unknown, but he was a student of psychology and a man -of keen intuition. He summed up John Wesley, and gave forth the remark -which had so great an influence upon him. "Sir," he said, "you wish to -serve God and go to Heaven. Remember, you cannot serve Him alone; you -must, therefore, _find_ companions or _make_ them: the Bible knows nothing -of solitary religion." - -Wesley never forgot these words. They were the turning-point in his -career. His vast brain and desire to become the greatest of God's servants -would not allow him to be merely a curate in the Established Church, thus -to serve God humbly. Even the chance of his eventually emerging as -Archbishop was not sufficiently big. Neither was the Roman Church large -enough, though from his characteristics it is conceivable that he was in -sympathy with the love of power which, in olden times, is said to have -marked out the Jesuits. The words of this "serious man" gave him furiously -to think. He would make companions, followers, disciples. He, himself, -would become greater than any of the men discussed by his fellow -Undergraduates by taking over the leadership of a band of religious and -ascetic men, who should occupy themselves solely in carrying out the -commands of God. - -Already his piety and zeal were much discussed in Oxford, for he led the -way to George Whitefield in attending the Sacrament daily and doing -charitable works. His younger brother, Charles, had formed the nucleus of -a religious order by meeting weekly with two or three serious-minded -friends and discussing religion. When John Wesley returned to Lincoln -after an absence of some two years, during which he had had time to think -out matters while filling a country curacy, these lads put themselves -under his leadership. It was the first taste of power and individual -authority. He ruled the little band sternly, put their practices into -order and method, and secured an "accession of members." He submitted -himself to rigorous fasts, and cultivated an eccentric appearance by -letting his hair grow. Even his brother, Samuel, himself really religious, -perceived that he "excited injurious prejudices against himself, by -affecting singularity in things which were of no importance." His mother -suggested cutting his hair off, but the money could not be spared from -Wesley's charities. His brother put forward that it should be merely -reduced in length. This Wesley agreed to, and it is recorded that "this -was the only instance in which he condescended, in any degree, to the -opinions of others." - -The culminating instance of his egoism lies in his absolute refusal, in -spite of his father's earnest entreaty, to take on his _cure_ at the -latter's death. He considered the proposal "not so much with reference to -his utility, as to his own well-being in spiritual things." The question, -as it appeared to him, was not whether he could do more good to others -there or at Oxford, but whether he could do more good to himself, seeing -that wherever he could be most holy himself, there he could most promote -holiness. He decided that he could improve himself more at Oxford than at -any other place, and at Oxford, therefore, he determined to remain. His -father wrote to him, "if you are not indifferent whether the labours of an -aged father, for above forty years in God's vineyard, be lost, and the -fences of it trodden down and destroyed; if you consider that Mr M. must -in all probability succeed me if you do not, and that in prospect of that -mighty Nimrod's coming hither shocks my soul, and is in a fair way of -bringing down my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave; if you have any care -for our family, which must be dismally shattered as soon as I am dropt; if -you reflect on the dear love and longing which this poor people has for -you, whereby you will be enabled to do God the more service, and the -plenteousness of the harvest, consisting of near two thousand souls, -whereas you have not many more souls in the university--you may, perhaps, -alter your mind and bend your will to His, who has promised if in all our -ways we acknowledge Him, He will direct our paths." - -In the face of this stirring appeal from an aged father what did Wesley -reply? He refused absolutely to entertain the matter. His -self-centredness, the while he directed the religious beliefs and -operations of the small body of disciples at Oxford, made him forget all -considerations of filial duty and love and of God's commands to obedience. -His parents had been the reason of his entering the Church. He would make -no further sacrifice for them now that he saw his way clear. His father, -mother, the thousands of poor people--nobody and nothing mattered except -that he should make himself more holy! The petty duties, worries, and -cares, the continual small demands of trifling points entailed by such a -curacy were too small for this striving, all-conquering spirit. What -mattered it that he should send his father's grey hairs down in sorrow to -the grave? - -All this while, he was most certainly turning over the saying of the -"serious man"--to _make_ followers. On his father's death it was proposed -that he should go to America. Here was his great chance. Oxford had taught -him that to expect to make English people, in their then blind and vicious -state, see the truth of the gospel of Christ, was futile and childish. He -was a prophet in his own country. But America, with all its -unsophisticated, raw children, its ripeness for a strong man to come with -the gift of oratory and sweep the country from end to end--there was his -chance! And afterwards, on the crest of his fame and success, then would -he convert England. His glory would have preceded him, and he would return -as one already great, to whom they would lend a more willing ear. But with -the astuteness of a really clever man, he peremptorily refused the offer -to send him out there. As a natural result the proposers of the scheme -argued. By degrees he allowed his willingness to be seen, though he -piously pointed out that as he was his mother's support, the staff of her -age, he could not go without her consent. This she immediately gave, as he -well knew she would. Accordingly, filled with exultation, buoyed up by a -feeling of certainty as to his ultimate success, John Wesley left Oxford -and England for the new country on which he intended to stamp his -personality, and by whose conquest he was determined to hand down his name -to posterity in the profession to which he had reconciled himself at the -age of some nineteen years while still an Undergraduate of Christ Church. - -Had Wesley not gone up to Oxford, his name might never have been added to -the list of England's famous men. It was Oxford which first showed him the -narrowness of a small curacy, Oxford which set him contemplating -greatness, Oxford which actually started him in command of disciples. -Therefore it is to Oxford that must be attributed the foundation, growth, -and fame of Methodism, the means by which John Wesley attained his ends, -power, and celebrity. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work--Oxford kills - his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely - freshman--Translates Pope's _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from - poverty--Dr Adam, his tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of - showing off--His love of Pembroke. - - -William Collins has been claimed as the greatest lyric poet of the -eighteenth century. But, as is so often the case with famous men, his -genius during his life time received no recognition. It was only when the -world learned of his death, after he has been removed from a madhouse, -that his few works began to come in for the notice which they deserved. -Perhaps one of the reasons that life brought him no triumphant successes -was the fact that he knew not how to work; and the blame of this -undoubtedly falls upon Oxford. Whilst at school Collins worked steadfastly -both in the matter of examinations and independent poems. It was at -Winchester that he wrote his _Persian Eclogues_, and in proof of his -capacity for study he headed the list for nomination to an Oxford college, -which included Warton and Whitehead. Oxford caused him to dwindle into a -mere dilettante, a Smart, although he was accused falsely of bringing with -him from school "a sovereign contempt for all academic studies and -discipline." The beginning of his Undergraduate life was marked by his -strutting about in fine clothes with a feather in his cap, and running up -heavy bills at the booksellers and tailors. The steady reading which he -must have got through to enable him to head the school list was now -laughed at. No one else did any work. Why should he? The Dons at Magdelen -did not enforce the college exercises, and those which Collins -condescended to put in showed signs of great genius and great indolence. -The atmosphere of slacking, and card and wine parties which prevailed in -the university seized hold of Collins, and he indulged himself to the -full. - -From time to time the poetry that was in him overflowed in an ode or two, -but he was delighted to be interrupted by some genial friend in the middle -of his work, and there the poem would be left. He frequented parties -daily, entering thoroughly into the spirit of flippancy which -characterised all his smart friends. He loved to be the centre of -attraction, to talk and laugh and jest with a circle of admirers. Those -who did not think as he did were dubbed "damned dull fellows." The -complete liberty enjoyed by him as a gownsman killed the habit of work so -forcibly inculcated at his school. No sooner did he sit down in his rooms -to read than the thought of a call that he must pay brought him to his -feet again. His entire freedom was his ruin. Had he been compelled to work -during certain hours every day, it is certain that Collins would have been -less of a butterfly, and probable that he would not have lost his reason. -As it was, the lax authority bred in him a desire to partake of the -dissipation and gaiety of London, and caused him to relegate work and -poetry to a secondary and quite unimportant consideration. He became -content merely to draw up the outline of vast schemes for future work. -That which he did complete was short and unsatisfying. He began other -things and never completed them. In momentary bursts of enthusiasm he -would dash off the commencement of some perfect lyric with inspiration and -genius. But his powers of concentration had been sapped. He had not the -strength to go on working. The call to a tea-party, any outside matter of -no importance, was sufficient to make him throw his work into the fire and -rush off to enjoy himself. He even went so far as to receive money on the -_scenario_ of a work on condition of promising the completion by a certain -date. For some days he was steadied. His usual haunts saw him not. Behind -sported oak he sat and toiled, striving to conquer the distracting -thoughts aroused by the chime of a bell, the street cries which drifted up -to his window, the rustle of a branch in the trees outside, the tramp of -footsteps on his staircase, the shouts from a distant quad. The effort was -too much for him. Oxford had completely stifled whatever will-power he had -ever possessed. He was beaten by her, robbed of the faculty of using the -gifts which God had given him. He emerged from the struggle with several -pages of _scenario_, and nothing more was ever attempted. - -The praise of his friends round the Oxford tea-tables turned him into a -consistent prevaricator. "To-morrow I will write! To-morrow shall see my -epoch-making poem. To-morrow!" But to-morrow came and was passed in equal -idleness and futilities. "Wait till I get to London. Ah, then!" He was -convinced that he had but to arrive in the metropolis to be the centre of -a storm of praise and admiration. The praise and adulation poured upon him -by his fellow Undergraduates convinced him that his wit and genius would -make a brilliant success in London, and win him a fortune. But it was not -to be. His weakness and lack of resolve and initiative had triumphed. He -became an _habitue_ of coffee-houses, and formed acquaintances with -actors, wasting his time at stage doors. He soon dissipated his money, and -became badly in debt. The schemes for work by which to win fame and -retrieve his fortunes died at their birth, and nothing was carried -through. - -There cannot be definitely laid at Oxford's door the accusation of being -the root of the insanity which subsequently developed in him. But it was -undoubtedly the fault of Oxford that he lost so soon the power over his -will which he possessed before his Undergraduate days. Such a man as -Collins needed the control of a guiding hand, some strong man whose -influence would have acted as a spur, and whose example would have led to -regular hours and serious work. Oxford, however, provided no such man. The -appointed tutor, who must have been a person gross in mind and body, took -no trouble with his charge, exercised no care, left him, indeed, to his -own resources. With him lies the blame for Collins' madness. By leaving -him to follow the loose example of the Undergraduates of the time, who -acted upon the caprice of the moment whether for good or evil, that tutor -withheld, however unconsciously, the support for which the fragile mind of -Collins craved. Consequently, under the evil influence of -eighteenth-century Oxford, the holds upon his will which kept Collins -within the bounds of sanity were gradually loosened, until at length, a -few years after his going down, his reason entirely left him, and he who -should have been one of the world's greatest poets was lost. - - * * * * * - -In a room on the second floor over the gateway at Pembroke Dr Johnson -lived during his Undergraduate career. A large-browed, unusual looking -lad, whose clothes were even then ill-fitting and badly cut, he came up at -the age of nineteen under the protecting wing of his father; was duly -introduced to his tutor, and moved in, reverently and tenderly, the only -household gods that he possessed--his books. - -Of a melancholic and somewhat bitter disposition already, he was, if -possible, even more lonely and unsought than the average freshman. This -condition of things caused him no regret. All his friends he brought with -him to line the bookshelves, and, sporting his oak against an unrealising -and unappreciative world, he revelled in the poets and the classics with -uninterrupted bliss. But the vitality of youth does not long remain -daunted, and Johnson soon threw off his melancholia and sallied forth into -the cobbled streets in search of amusement or adventure. Through the -bare-armed trees of the Broad Walk he made his way and joined in the -sliding in the frozen Christ Church meadows. Work was forgotten in the -biting, frosty, invigorating air, and for four days his tutor saw him not. -Ice does not come every year, and Johnson made the most of it while it -lasted. - -The college exercises were child's play to him. Unlike the majority of -Undergraduates of the time, who read nothing but what was put into their -hands by their tutor, Johnson brought with him to the university such a -wide acquaintance with books, both of classics and poetry, that the Master -of Pembroke said in all sincerity that he was better qualified for the -university than any man during his time. With such knowledge and with the -impetuousness that was always one of his chief characteristics, it is not -to be wondered at that Johnson dashed off his exercises at top speed, and -with a brilliance that created awe in the minds of the Dons. In one case, -for instance, being requested to translate Pope's _Messiah_ into Latin -verse, Johnson retired to his chamber and there, behind closed doors, -wrote feverishly on a corner of his book-strewn table. The results of his -rapid labours were twofold. He established a great reputation not only in -his college but in the entire university, and, more than that, earned -Pope's highest praise, and brought about his statement that in later days -it would be a question whether his own or Johnson's version would be -considered the original. One of his favourite haunts was Pembroke gate. -There he lounged away his mornings, doing no work, attending no lectures, -and preventing a crowd of listening Undergraduates from doing work or -attending lectures. Like a king surrounded by his court, Johnson, unkempt -of hair and ragged of clothes, with shoes down at heel and fit only for -the rubbish heap, let fly his wit and satire upon every topic. The shouts -of laughter which he provoked from his compeers bound them to him as -though he had been a Pied Piper, and it was to empty benches that the Dons -delivered their empty discourses. Against the tutors and Fellows also he -turned his tongue, and his satire and humour at their expense allied the -Undergraduates still more closely to him. But these merry meetings in the -Pembroke gateway were only a pose on Johnson's part. He wished to convey a -certain impression, and he succeeded. The Master of Pembroke told Boswell -that he "was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and -frolicksome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his life." - -This was indeed a proof of the success of his pose; for in reality he was -neither gay nor happy. His poverty, the bareness of his rooms, the -shabbiness of his dress, the consequent inability to go anywhere, even -into Christ Church, or do any of the things that the other men did who had -money, ground into his soul. He was bitterly sensitive of these things, -and the least reference to them, however delicate or well-meaning, either -aroused a torrent of hot words, or caused him to retreat clam-like into -his shell. The man who in a spirit of discreet friendship crept up to his -rooms, left a new pair of shoes outside his door and stole unseen away, -was only rewarded for his good-nature by learning that Johnson had thrown -them out of the window in a burst of fury against the creation that had -left him penniless. It was only the fact that scornful eyes (or at any -rate Johnson's touchiness interpreted scorn into them) were turned upon -his shoes, through which his feet peered frankly out, that Johnson ceased -going to Christ Church to obtain, second hand, the lectures of Bateman -from his friend Taylor. He conceived poverty to be an awful and dangerous -state. After his father had died, leaving practically nothing for his -mother and himself, Johnson wrote in one of his little diaries: -"Meanwhile let me take care that the powers of my mind may not be -debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me into criminal -act." By force of having no money, and not receiving any remittances from -his father, by whom every penny had to be made to go the distance of two, -he naturally incurred debts at Oxford. As he knew, however, that it would -be only with difficulty that his expenses would be met at all, his debts -were not large, and any incipient extravagance that may have been in him -was crushed out very early. His one great craving was to replenish his -library, and as this was impossible he took every opportunity of visiting -the well-stocked libraries of other people. These gave him intense joy, -and his first move was always to cross to the bookshelves and there, -oblivious of his host and the whole world, to pour over the beloved -volumes. - -His faculty for poetical and prose writings was already strongly developed -when first he came up to Oxford, and the original points of view from -which he wrote his themes were a subject of great comment. The rest of the -Undergraduates were as children when compared to one of his mental -abilities. Even his tutor admitted that his position was farcical, and -that Johnson was far above him in brain capacity, for he said on one -occasion that "I was his nominal tutor but he was above my mark." And the -lad was then but some nineteen years of age! Merely to perform college -exercises was absurd and irritating to one of his hasty dispositions. -Having rattled them off, he used to read by himself, but with such a -varied and impetuous taste that his knowledge seemed to include every -subject of which anything had ever been written. Boswell says that "he -told me, that from his earliest years he loved to read poetry, but hardly -ever read any poem to an end; that he read Shakespeare at a period so -early, that the speech of the ghost in _Hamlet_ terrified him when he was -alone; that _Horace's Odes_ were the composition in which he took most -delight, and it was not long before he liked his _Epistles_ and -_Satires_.... What he read most solidly at Oxford was Greek; not the -Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, and now and then a little -epigram; that the study of which he was most fond was Metaphysicks." But -for all his brilliance Johnson went down without taking a degree. His -father's death rendered it impossible for him to remain at Oxford for the -full course, and he never went in for the schools. - -While at the university he did not form many great friendships. His was -not the temperament. A highly sensitive man, surrounded for the most part -by men of some wealth who were ever ready to incur expenses, he was always -on the look-out for an objectionable glance of pity or sympathy, than -which there was to him nothing worse or more heinous. With his wonderful -talents it was rather for him to look down upon the vacuous moneyed men -than permit himself to be patronised by them. Consequently, fully -realising the almost insurmountable handicap of comparative penury, -Johnson preferred to make his way by force of brain power or not at all, -rather than bow down to the man with a fat purse. As he himself said in -after life, "I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I -disregarded all authority." - -As a man of readiness and physical pluck he was without rival. In the -summer the thought of sunshine and the wonderful green colourings of the -trees called him from his books, and collecting a companion on the way, he -was used to saunter through the parks to enjoy a bathe. His pulses -tingling with the delight of being alive and young on a glorious day, with -the softly waving branches rustling overhead, and the quiet river gliding -at his feet, Johnson's flow of fancies kept his companion entranced until -they had thrown off their clothes and were ready for the first cool -splash. There existed apparently a certain deep hole in the river bed in -one of the places where they used to bathe, and Johnson's friend warned -him of the danger. Immediately, with the uncaring folly of youth, Johnson -plunged into the very spot to his friend's horror and anxiety. In a few -moments he emerged, blowing like a healthy grampus, and poured ridicule -upon his well-meaning if timid friend. He was, indeed, foolhardy to the -point of braggadocio. A very sure proof of this is afforded by an incident -which occurred when he was staying at Mr Beauclerk's house in the country. -The guests were outside the house one day on the lawn discussing the -merits of their guns, when one of them pointed out that if a gun were -loaded with many balls there was a danger of its bursting. Johnson -promptly slipped in some seven or eight and fired his gun against the wall -of the house. Instead of rating him soundly for his egregiously childish -love of showing off, Boswell, in his blind idolatry, praises this up as -being "resolution." - -At Oxford, and in fact afterwards, it was Johnson's habit to sally forth -at night time for solitary walks. His great affection for Oxford was -doubtless stimulated by these lonely prowls through the moonlit streets, -and his entire disregard for the consequences of his actions helped him in -his climbs back into college. One can picture him dropping out of Pembroke -after careful glances to right and left to see that all was clear, and -marching along with his hands behind his back, safe from the scornful eyes -of Smarts, which made his mean clothes infinitely more uncomfortable, his -eyes drinking in the beauties of the wonderful skyline of the City of -Spires, his mind occupied perhaps in thinking out Rasselas as he made his -way through the narrow, deserted streets. On one of these expeditions four -roughs sprang out upon him suddenly from the shadow of a gateway, intent -on relieving him of the purse and jewellery which they supposed him to -have. Their mistake was twofold, for, in addition to lighting upon a poor -man, they had also caught a tartar. Johnson, young and active, struck out -lustily and with skill, and, setting his back to the wall, battered the -scoundrels right royally. Savage at being resisted, the men renewed their -attack with the idea of vengeance, but Johnson, with no other aid than his -fists, kept them at bay until the quick tramp of feet hurrying round the -corner announced the presence of the watch, and both the attackers and -their would-be victim were carried off to the round-house. - -At a later period in his career when, one would have thought, his quick -temper should have been entirely under control, he had an amusing -adventure in the playhouse at Lichfield which showed, plainly enough, both -that he could still lose his temper and that he had sufficient strength to -carry things through. A chair had been placed for Johnson's express use -between the side scenes. Wishing, however, to speak with some one in -another part of the building, he left it for a moment. Some gentleman -promptly took possession, and Johnson, finding on his return that his -place was occupied, civilly demanded his seat. The gentleman rudely -refused to give it up. In a flash Johnson laid hold of him and tossed both -man and chair into the pit. - -In spite of the fact that Johnson at Pembroke suffered tortures from being -poor, and that his gay and frolicsome habits were merely a cloak to hide -his bitterness, yet he contracted a love for his college which endured to -his death. It was a matter of pride to him to run over the list of names -of the celebrated men educated at the same college: such names as Spenser, -Shenstone, Blackstone, and others. In the "Memoirs of the Life and -Correspondence of Hannah Moore" is found the following passage -illustrative of his love for the old college. "Who do you think is my -present cicerone at Oxford? Only Dr Johnson! and we do so gallant it -about! You cannot imagine with what delight he showed me every part of his -own college.... Dr Adams, the Master of Pembroke, had contrived a very -pretty piece of gallantry. We spent the day and evening at his house. -After dinner Johnson begged to conduct me to see the college, he would let -no one else show it me but himself. 'This was my room; this Shenstone's.' -Then after pointing out all the rooms of the poets who had been of his -college, 'In short,' said he, 'we were a nest of singing birds. Here we -walked, there played cricket.' He ran over with pleasure the history of -the juvenile days he passed there.... But alas! Johnson looks very ill -indeed--spiritless and wan. However he made an effort to be cheerful...." - -As a last token of his love for Pembroke he sent the college a present of -all his works. This was done just before his death, and Boswell tells us -that he was most anxious to bequeath his house at Lichfield to the college -as well. His friends, however, "very properly dissuaded him from it." - - * * * * * - -And now reluctantly I lay down my pen. It would be possible to continue -for ever with such a subject as Oxford. Oxford, filled with the mystic -echoes of the past, and the life and movement of the present, where a man -passes four of the best years of his life, making livelong friendships, -feeling things, doing things, and seeing things which remain indelibly -engraved in his mind. Memories of Oxford have moved singers and poets to -ecstasies of emotional utterance, inspired great writers with beautiful -thoughts, and have been the one ray of comforting light in dark and -miserable lives. Is there, or has there ever been, a man who, having -known the protection of the old city's walls, and explored the tree-shaded -meanderings of the limpid Cher, having rioted after an athletic triumph -and burnt the midnight oil with an intimate friend, having been, in short, -a full-blooded Undergraduate, has gone down without any love for _Alma -mater_ in his heart, who has felt no thrill in after years when looking -back upon his Oxford years? Surely such a creature was never born. -Oxford's charm is, essentially, not for the few. It strikes the heart of -every one of her countless sons. Year follows year, and century, century, -and the stream of men flows unceasingly in and out of the city's gates. -Does Oxford change, however? Another wrinkle on her face may betray the -lapse of many decades, but her beauty remains. She is still the same. - - "Still on her spire the pigeons hover; - Still by her gateway haunts the gown; - Ah, but her secret? you, young lover, - Drumming her old ones, forth from town, - Know you the secret none discover? - Tell it when you go down. - - "Yet if at length you seek her, prove her, - Lean to her whispers never so nigh; - Yet if at last not less her lover - You in your hansom leave the High; - Down from her towers a ray shall hover-- - Touch you, a passer by."[31] - - -PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[2] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[3] "Random Records," by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[4] "Random Records," by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[5] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[6] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[7] "Oxford Studies," by J. R. Green (Macmillan & Co). - -[8] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[9] _Ibid._ - -[10] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[11] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[12] "Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth" (London 1820). - -[13] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[14] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[15] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[16] "Reminiscences of a Literary Life," by T. F. Dibdin, London, 1836. - -[17] "Recollections of Particulars in Life of late Mr William Shenstone," -by the Rev. Richard Graves. - -[18] Terrae Filius. - -[19] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[20] "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon" (London, 1796). - -[21] "Essays Moral and Literary," by Vicesimus Knox. - -[22] "Oxford Studies," by J.R. Green (Messrs Macmillan & Co.). - -[23] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[24] "Life of William, Earl of Shelburne," by Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice -(London, 1895). - -[25] "University Education," by Dr Newton (London, 1726). - -[26] "Boswell's Life of Johnson." - -[27] "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon" (London, 1796). - -[28] "Reminiscences of a Literary Life," by T. F. Dibdin. - -[29] "Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth" (London, 1820). - -[30] To which he transferred from Magdalen Hall. - -[31] A. C. Quiller-Couch. - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - -Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. - -The original text includes Greek characters that have been replaced with -transliterations in this text version. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/42960.zip b/42960.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e6b55a7..0000000 --- a/42960.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/42960-0.txt b/old/42960-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0b58f99..0000000 --- a/old/42960-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7099 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. Hamilton Gibbs - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Rowlandson's Oxford - -Author: A. Hamilton Gibbs - -Illustrator: Thomas Rowlandson - -Release Date: June 16, 2013 [EBook #42960] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive.) - - - - - - - - - -ROWLANDSON’S OXFORD - - - - -[Illustration: FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH.] - - - - - ROWLANDSON’S OXFORD - - - BY A. HAMILTON GIBBS - (ST JOHN’S COLLEGE) - - - LONDON - KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. LTD. - 1911 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - CHAPTER I THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools-- - Manhood--Lonely freshers--The “pi†man--The newcomer’s - metamorphosis--The Lownger’s day--Regrets at being down 1-8 - - CHAPTER II THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and “easy padsâ€--Farewell to - parents--A forlorn animal--Terrae Filius’s advice--Much - prayers--“Hell has no fury like a woman scornedâ€--The - disadvantages of a conscience 9-17 - - CHAPTER III THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker-- - Colman and the Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford - manner--_Homunculi Togati_--Academia and a mother’s - love--The jovial father--Underground dog-holes and - shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night 18-28 - - CHAPTER IV THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne’s coffee-house and the _billet doux_-- - Tick--Liquor capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_-- - Latin odes for tradesmen only 29-38 - - CHAPTER V THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven-- - The President under her thumb--Amhurst’s table of cons.-- - King Charles and the other place 39-45 - - CHAPTER VI THE SERVITOR - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors 46-54 - - CHAPTER VII SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper’s--Southey at Balliol--Cox’s six-oared - crew--The river-side barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes - against games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses - and badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights-- - Paniotti’s Fencing Academy--Old-time “bug-shootersâ€-- - Skating in Christ Church meadows--Cricket and the - Bullingdon Club--Walking tours 55-68 - - CHAPTER VIII CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the “Lunaticsâ€--The - Constitution Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and - minutes--High Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers 69-82 - - CHAPTER IX WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen-- - The “Vindicationâ€--Opposing and responding--“Schemesâ€-- - Doing austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents-- - Magdalen collections 83-94 - - CHAPTER X ’VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson’s _Oxford Journal_-- - Domestic intelligence--Election poems--Curious - advertisements--Superabundance of St John’s editors-- - Terrae Filius 95-108 - - CHAPTER XI ’VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Student_--Cambridge included--Its design--The female - student--Poem by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury’s - letter--The manly woman 109-121 - - CHAPTER XII ’VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to - the _Cozeners_, written by Garrick--Visions, fables, and - moral tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789 122-135 - - CHAPTER XIII ’VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet_--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford_-- - _The Oxford Act_--_The Oxford Sausage_--Present and latter - day literature summed up 136-141 - - CHAPTER XIV THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student’s_ opinion of one--A tradesman’s poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties-- - Tradesmen’s taste in literature--Advertising and _The - Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, innkeeper--Amhurst’s - confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts 142-152 - - CHAPTER XV THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr - Newton on tutors’ fees--Dr Johnson’s recommendation of - Bateman--Public lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham - man’s letter 153-162 - - CHAPTER XVI THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining-- - College Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the - Magdalen Dons--Heads of colleges--Their domestic and - public character--Golgotha and Ben Numps--St John’s head - pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and Randolph 163-174 - - CHAPTER XVII THE DON--(continued) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of - a degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from - Black Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Isaac Walton and - the senior Proctor--Amhurst’s character sketch of a - certain Proctor 175-183 - - CHAPTER XVIII CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards - and claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered - afterwards--Edward Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism - towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman Catholic--Subsequent - apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking orders--Germs of - ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism 184-198 - - CHAPTER XIX CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work-- - Oxford kills his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel - Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely freshman--Translates Pope’s - _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from poverty--Dr Adam, his - tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of showing - off--His love of Pembroke 199-210 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH _Frontispiece_ - - VIEW OF ST MARY’S CHURCH AND RADCLIFFE LIBRARY _To face page_ 9 - - COLLEGE SERVICE " 15 - - A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE, ETC., AT OXFORD " 19 - - BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD " 30 - - MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE QUADRANGLE " 40 - - A ’VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN " 45 - - VIEW OF QUEEN’S COLLEGE " 53 - - NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON’S STUDY AT OXFORD " 59 - - A DUCK HUNT " 66 - - A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS’ COLLEGE " 74 - - THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN " 92 - - OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING " 133 - - A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD " 160 - - MERTON COLLEGE " 177 - - STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH " 193 - - - - -FOREWORD - - -The task of writing a book on Oxford University is by no means an easy -one. If it be a novel there are countless pitfalls to entrap the -author--points small and inconsequent to the reader who cannot proudly -claim the City of Spires as his Alma Mater, but irritating beyond -description to the man who knows and loves Oxford. - -But if modern Oxford dealt with from the romantic and sentimental point of -view as the background of a story contains such a network of difficulties, -the Oxford of two hundred years ago, Rowlandson’s Oxford, contains them -multiplied a hundred times, because it now becomes a question not of -reproducing the vivid pictures of the hour and moment, but of recreating -the atmosphere of a time that is silent in death. - -It is, therefore, with great diffidence that I have attempted to -resuscitate the life and moods of Oxford of the eighteenth century. Barely -two years have elapsed since the days when I looked out from my windows -into the quad of my college. All the work and play, the alarums and -excursions which go to form the life of the average Undergraduate have not -yet had time to fade into dim, half forgotten memories. Alma Mater still -grasps me in her warm hand. So vivid indeed are all the impressions which -I received from the friendly gargoyles and the peace-touched lawns, the -beautiful colleges with their silent cloisters, the full-blooded -twenty-firsters and bump-suppers, and the thousand and one everyday -happenings, that I might be merely awaiting the passing of vacation to go -up once more. - -With all the Undergraduate interests still so strongly at heart, I think -that it is natural that I should have studied the Rowlandson period with -the mind of the Undergraduate and have carried out my task from the -Undergraduate point of view. It is difficult to give any idea of the -quaintness, delight, and amusement caused by going back two hundred years -to a University so like and so unlike--like, in that the men, although so -different outwardly, had practically the same ideas as we have and carried -them out in the same colleges, even in the same rooms, in a precisely -similar manner; unlike in that the Dons were a breed of men differing in -every respect from those who look after us to-day. - -Working, then, on the hypothesis that Oxford men in Rowlandson’s time were -identical with ourselves, I have drawn analogies between every step in the -lives of both. I have endeavoured to show that from the beginning of their -fresherdom, when they felt self-conscious, _gauche_, and timid, down to -the days when they took their degrees and knew Oxford blindfold in all her -moods and tenses, they possessed the same outlook, had the same -aspirations and ambitions, and were filled with the same admiration and -love of Alma Mater as the men of to-day. For instance, as a freshman the -Georgian Undergraduate curiously watched the seniors who were responsible -for the tone of their college. Gradually he sloughed both his nervousness -and his un-Oxford wardrobe and began to assert his own individuality. -Little by little he discovered new sides of Oxford life, new haunts in -which he began to feel at home. Daily he made new acquaintances who, as -time went by, ripened into friends. Eventually, by the end of his first -year, he had so absorbed Oxford into his personality that he in turn was -able to condescend to the next year’s arrivals. During this time his -attitude towards the Dons, the statutes, the schools--to everything, in -short, outside the immediate Undergraduate side of life--varied with the -terms. At the beginning they were subjects only to be broached with awe -and deliberation. But the more he came into contact with an ever -increasing circle of friends, the sooner his respect changed into -ridicule, disgust, and finally, when a senior, into amused toleration. - -In précis form such was the development of the eighteenth-century -Undergraduate. His metamorphosis into a “blood,†with all its amusing -accompaniments and accomplishments--the former consisting of the latest -fashions in clothes and the _entrée_ to the innermost recesses of the -Maudlin Groves in the company of the most celebrated Oxford damsel; the -latter of a facility for dashing off a well thought out extempore series -of oaths, being the handiest man at a tea-table, drinking more than any -other buck of his acquaintance before finally succumbing, to follow in the -natural sequence of events according to the temperament of the freshman. -Had he a leaning towards becoming a “blood†not only was there nothing to -stop him, but, on the contrary, all the existing conditions were such as -to facilitate the execution of his desires. - -In all these phrases the old-time Undergraduate can be compared with his -modern brothers. In his dealings with the river-side barmaids, the local -tradesmen, and the proctors he pursued much the same ingenuous methods -which are used with equal success to-day. Just as we become members of -unlimited numbers of year clubs and settle the affairs of the entire human -species at the nightly meetings with ease and eloquence, they, too, formed -societies and took themselves with a similar seriousness. They contributed -literary morsels to the Undergraduate papers which satirised existing -institutions in the same youthful manner in which we satirise them. They -conducted “rags†with a thoroughness and disregard of results which ended -in the same speedy rustication of the ringleaders which inevitably -overtakes the men who are still unwise enough to be found out. - -In a word, my object has been not to compare the ethics of the university -to-day with those of yesterday, but rather to set forth an analogy between -Dons and Undergraduates of that period and this, and the business of their -daily life, from the point of view of one upon whom the influence of Alma -Mater has not yet been mellowed into an analytical remembrance by long -contact with the world which lies beyond her spires. - -Whether I have succeeded in proving my case remains to be seen. At least I -venture to hope that the results of my work may form a frame for -Rowlandson’s pictures which are here reproduced for the first time from -Rowlandson’s original water-colour drawings. - -Of these pictures many were engraved at the time in aquatint, but the -engraver was as a rule so obsessed with the Georgian ideas of the -beautiful in architecture that he practically reconstructed the majority -of the buildings represented, in accordance with that idea, so that some -of the most beautiful and characteristic buildings in Oxford and -Cambridge, so delicately portrayed by Rowlandson’s pencil, are turned into -rectangular monstrosities, the like of which was never seen in either -university town. - -The superiority of hand-engraving over modern processes is evident enough, -when the engraving itself was made by the artist; but when the original -drawing is so hopelessly misrepresented as is the case with many of the -aquatints of Rowlandson’s drawings, the modern facsimile processes have -their obvious advantages. - -It is therefore claimed that Rowlandson’s drawings of Oxford are here -reproduced for the first time, and it is believed that they will be a -revelation to many who have hitherto looked upon Rowlandson merely as a -somewhat gross caricaturist. The caricaturist, it is true, is still here -depicting in the foregrounds characteristic scenes in the university life -of the time, but here is also another Rowlandson with an appreciation of -the beauties of Oxford rare indeed in his age, and one who is able to -delineate them with accuracy and delicacy which have seldom been equalled -in the portrayal of such subjects. - -The author desires to express his gratitude to the Rev. Christopher -Wordsworth for having very kindly granted him permission to make -quotations from “Social Life in the English Universitiesâ€; and to Messrs -Macmillan & Co., publishers of J. R. Green’s “Oxford Studies,†for -allowing him to make two quotations from that book; and also to Mr R. S. -Rait of the Oxford Historical Society for having permitted him to quote -from Miss L. Quiller-Couch’s “Reminiscences of Oxford,†published by that -society. - - - - -ROWLANDSON’S OXFORD - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools--Manhood--Lonely - freshers--The “pi†man--The newcomer’s metamorphosis--The Lownger’s - day--Regrets at being down. - - -How few of us there are to-day who ever devote even the slack hour between -tea and “hotters†and Hall to finding out something at least about the -Undergraduates who had our rooms two centuries ago. Yet to every man the -word Oxford conjures up vast vague shadows from the past which make him as -a freshman tread softly and with reverence through the quads and gardens, -High Streets and by-streets of the City of Spires. Great names rise up -into our minds and fill us with wonder, but the scout knocks at our door -with half-cold food and our dreams dissolve into irritated reality. There -may come a moment, perhaps, when, with feet at rest upon the mantel-shelf -and a straight-grained pipe bubbling in quiet response between our teeth, -we are deafening our ears to the call of bed, the slow-flowing -conversation drifts by chance to a casual query as to what our -predecessors did at the same hour two hundred years ago. Beyond a few more -or less unimaginative surmises we remain in ignorance, blissful and -uncaring, believing them to be strange-clothed beings of stilted language -and curious habits, and at once the talk turns to present and more -pleasant topics. We little think that to all intents and purposes we are -almost exactly the same as our old-time-brethren. - -To-day we row, play cricket, football, tennis, golf; we cut our lectures -when we safely can and “binge†at every opportunity. Schools do occupy us, -it is true, but as a mere secondary item in the university scheme of -things--and rightly so. A degree, however good, does not, by itself, make -men of us and teach us how to live. It is the social life of the -university which is the real education and which sends us out into the -world ready to face anything and everything. By developing our bodies we -develop our minds, and in this programme of athletics and sociability we -are a replica of our eighteenth-century brethren. They rose about nine, -breakfasted at ten, and dallied away the morning with a flute or the -latest French comedy. By way of strenuous exercise, necessitated by a -climate which was just as evil then as now, they walked, rode, rowed, or -skated, and in the evening figured at the Mitre or Tuns where they made -merry into the small hours with beer, claret, or punch. - -To them schools were much less a source of worry than they are to us, for, -beyond attending occasional disputations and an odd lecture or so, when a -Don could be persuaded to give one, they obtained their degree by the -simple but expensive process of drinking the examiner--usually a hardened -toper--under the table overnight. He was then led, in the morning, while -still pleasantly fuddled, to the schools, and there, in consideration of a -respectable douceur, he signed away the necessary papers with a beaming -and self-satisfied smile. They knew nothing of the humours of white ties, -dark suits, and a week’s terrible strain to get a First in Honour -Mods--before the Finals are even thought of. The shivering crowds waiting -in the Hall to be led to the slaughter did not exist in those days. A -Trinity man named Skinner, who matriculated in 1790, flung himself at the -subject in satirical verse:-- - - “Enter we next the Public Schools - Where now a death-like stillness rules; - Yet these still walls in days of yore - Back to the streets returned the roar of hundreds.... - But since their champion Aristotle - Has been deserted for the bottle - The benches stand like Prebends’ stalls - Lone and deserted ’gainst the walls.â€[1] - -No sooner have we finished with our public school days, when we are known -as boys, and have either scrambled over the “Smalls†hedge with some -humility and relief, or else have secured the privilege of lording it in a -scholar’s gown, than we instantly become men. We may be anything between -eighteen and twenty, but if a sister, brother, or cousin be unwary enough -to refer to us as a boy--woe unto him or her! We may pretend that we do -not mind, but in our heart of hearts we rejoice in being Oxford “men,†and -guard our title jealously. We are not, however, unique in this. It is a -habit which has come down to us from the eighteenth century when they were -just as jealous of such points of etiquette. - -George Colman the younger tells us that he came upon two freshmen of that -time who had had a quarrel. Six months before they blacked each other’s -eyes at Westminster in the good old British way. Now, however, being -Oxford men, they could not descend to such a childish level, but agreed to -afford each other “gentlemanly satisfaction.†They may have lacked a -certain sense of humour, but it was the right spirit, and it is safe to -conclude that they both did well at their respective colleges. - -The lonely freshman of to-day who has no friends already in residence -wanders round just as nervously and makes the same _faux pas_ as did his -predecessors. It takes him just as long to find his feet and settle down -and make friends. Exactly in the same way also if he knows men already up -he is welcomed by them, invited to heavy breakfasts and put right on -matters of etiquette: such as never by any chance to wear square and gown -unless absolutely compelled to--and all the other minutiæ which are of -such importance. In the eighteenth century a freshman was taken by his -senior friends to the Mitre and sat in front of a bowl of punch with brown -toast bobbing in it. He heard sonnets recited to the eyelashes of Sylvia. -He was taught to drink on his knees to Phyllis or Chloe, or some other -fair female of the moment. He was taken to the barber’s and shown how to -wear a wig instead of his own hair. In fact, his feet were set in the -proper path then in just the same friendly spirit as now. - -They had their clubs and societies at which, in the intervals of drinking, -they indicted Latin poems or discussed some important political question -where we, over mulled claret and other comestibles, read papers on “The -Abolition of the Halfpenny Press,†or “The Glories of Tariff Reform.†They -had big dinners, and tried to find their way home in the small hours. We -have our fresher’s wines and bump suppers in which the whole college -participates with the sole object of enjoying good wine and destroying -good furniture, and we crawl home, if we are outside college, through the -same streets. To-day we have the “pi†man who sternly refuses to -countenance such evil things as fresher’s wines; who has signed the pledge -and eschews tobacco. If he is compelled by an outraged band of senior men -to lend his presence against his better judgment, and is led out from a -room in a state of Doré-like chaos, he becomes uproarious on a glass of -water and two bananas, and writes home to his mother that his bill for -repairs is enormous owing to his bravery in being a martyr to his -principles, and that drunkenness is on the increase among the -Undergraduates. All the same he thoroughly enjoys himself, and in time -wears off rough corners and learns how to keep his vows without any -objectionable fanfare. At the end of the eighteenth century a man of this -kidney named Crosse wrote to his mother: “Oxford is a perfect hell upon -earth. What chance is there for an unfortunate lad just come from school -with no one to watch and care for him--no guide? I often saw my tutor -carried off perfectly intoxicated.†I can see the man crouching in a dark -corner of the quad appalled at the sight of his fellows dancing round a -bonfire, while his tutor rushes by on the arms of a festive crowd in full -rejoicing at some college triumph. It would be interesting to ascertain -Crosse’s views at the end of his university career. He remained, however, -in the obscurity of mediocrity. - -Our trousseau when we first appear at the university consists of modest -socks and humble waistcoats, and ties which make no claim to originality -or even to smartness. They are content to be merely useful and to fulfil -their appointed functions. But does not every parent learn subsequently, -with dreadful results to his peace of mind, how after our first month we -make our way unerringly to the tailors and clothiers, and there with -deadly earnestness absorb colour schemes which cry a loud challenge to -Joseph’s coat? Our waistcoats are dreams,--sometimes nightmares; the -blending of harmony between shirt, tie, and socks is as perfect as the -rainbow. Our hair, which used to be parted carelessly down one side, now -disdains partings and goes straight back in one beautiful Magdalen sweep. -Our trousers are thrown at the scout’s head as a gift unless they be of -unparalleled width and of exceptional crease. - -This tendency to burst forth into strange and variegated garments in token -of our emancipation from apron strings was just as strong in the old days. -The sons of country farmers came trooping into Oxford, their clouted shoes -thick with good red earth, in linsey wolsey coats, with greasy, uncombed -heads of hair flapping in the wind. Their stockings were of coarse yarn, -and they knew nothing better than to have long muslin neckcloths run with -red at the ends. But they soon realised the contempt in which they were -held for this dull chrysalis-like appearance. After a few weeks these -shamefaced clodhoppers sneaked into the side door of the barbers’ shops to -emerge proudly by the front entrance in a bob wig. Their clouted shoes -were relegated to young brothers, and they wore new ones--Oxford cut. -Their yarn stockings gave place to worsted, until, after a very short -interval between their arrival and their settling down, they blushed out -like butterflies in tye wigs and ruffles and silk gowns. The “blood†of -that period, or, as the term then was, the “smart,†or the “buck of the -first head,†was distinguished when he aired his person, Amhurst told us, -“by a stiff silk gown which rustles in the wind as he struts along; a -flaxen tye wig, or sometimes a long natural one which reaches down below -his rump; a broad bully cock’d hat, or a square cap of above twice the -usual size; white stockings, thin Spanish leather shoes; his cloaths lined -with tawdry silk, and his shirt ruffled down the bosom as well as at the -wrists. Besides all which marks, he has a delicate jaunt in his gait, and -smells philosophically of essence.†- -How his direct descendant, the Bullingdon man, must envy him his -magnificent opportunities of making a brave show! Not for him the silk -gown, the bully cocked hat. The best he can do in imitation is the amazing -dinner jacket which he sometimes sports at the theatre, under which one -finds not the accepted form of dress shirt but a peculiar form of -abortion which is neatly ruffled at “bosom and wrists.†In place of the -Spanish leather shoes the last word to-day is apparently buckskin. The -“delicate jaunt in the gait†has been retained--the result being caused -now by a union of “Eton slouch†and “Oxford manner.†The head still smells -of essence--honey and flowers at Hatt’s, brilliantine at Martyr’s. These -great-minded people think alike not only in point of dress but of the -manner of killing time. “The Lownger†summed up the process as carried out -in the eighteenth century-- - - “I rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten, - Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen, - Read a play till eleven or cock my lac’d hat, - Then step to my neighbour’s, till dinner to chat. - Dinner over to Tom’s or to James’s I go, - The news of the town so impatient to know, - While Low, Locke and Newton and all the rum race - That talk of their Modes, their ellipses and space, - The Seat of the Soul and new Systems on high, - In Halls as abstruse as their mysteries lie. - From the coffee-house then I to Tennis away, - And at five I post back to my College to pray, - I sup before eight and secure from all duns, - Undauntedly march to the Mitre or Tuns, - Where in Punch or good Claret my sorrows I drown, - And toss off a bowl to the best in the town. - At one in the morning I call what’s to pay? - Then home to my College I stagger away. - Thus I tope all the night as I trifle all day.†- -Every one knows the various processes of slacking at the present time, so -that there is no need for detail. But in essence the method is the same, -and the result also. Our lunches at the Cherwell Hotel, at the riverside -inns at Iffley and Abingdon; our “Grindsâ€; our slacking on the river in -summer term--all these were done two centuries ago, and, just as some of -the more energetic of us seek to immortalise these doings by contributing -poems and articles to the ’varsity papers, so did the Undergraduates then -send their sonnets and Latin verses to _The Student_, the _Oxford -Magazine_, and Jackson’s _Oxford Journal_. In place of the musical comedy -lady, whose silvery laughter floats down wind to-day, the Oxford toast -flaunted it right merrily in the old days. The gownsmen’s tobacco accounts -then amounted to quite as much as ours do, and they wrote home for further -supplies of pocket money in almost the identical terms which we use -to-day. Yesterday’s and to-day’s Oxford men are one and the same. Oxford -herself and her Dons are changed, but the Undergraduate goes on doing and -thinking the same things in the same way, and when he goes down now he -feels very much as felt the eighteenth-century poet who, also down, -sang:-- - - “Could Ovid, deathless bard, forbear, - Confin’d by Scythia’s frozen plains, - Cease to desire his native air - In softest elegiac strains? - Cursed with the town no more can I - For Oxford’s meadow cease to sigh.... - Can I, while mem’ry lasts, forget - Oxford, thy silver rolling stream, - Thy silent walks and cool retreat - Where first I sucked the love of fame? - E’en now the thought inspires my breast - And lulls my troubled soul to rest.†- -[Illustration: VIEW OF ST. MARY’S CHURCH & RADCLIFFE LIBRARY.] - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and “easy padsâ€--Farewell to parents--A - forlorn animal--Terrae Filius’s advice--Much prayers--“Hell has no - fury like a woman scornedâ€--The disadvantages of a conscience. - - -The beginning of our university career is marked, unless we be Stoics, by -mixed feelings of elation and a sinking at the pit of the stomach which we -afterwards learn to recognise as “needle.†The train journey may have -seemed long, but at this first breathless moment when the porter receives -our goods and chattels into his arms from the top of the moribund hansom, -we could almost wish that we were back in the train again. A sense of -isolation, and of having to stand or fall by ourselves, sweeps over like a -tidal wave, leaving us momentarily chilled and nervous. - -How different was the fresher’s arrival in the eighteenth century. He -boarded a coach in the early morning in London. His baggage was placed in -the boot, and the traveller, armed to the teeth with blunderbuss and -pistols, took his seat. With a clattering of hoofs, yelling of ostlers and -merry tooting on the horn, the coach dashed out of the yard and wound -merrily along throughout the day by field, village, and town. If the -journey were a lucky one, the travellers arrived at Oxford without let or -hindrance about six o’clock in the evening, when they were able to catch a -first glimpse of the top of Radcliffe’s Library. They then jolted in over -Magdalen Bridge--in those days the new bridge--and so made their way to -their respective colleges. - -Wrapped up in thick coats and with ice-cold feet tapping the side of the -coach to restore circulation, the excited fresher had ample time for -cogitation. The lets and hindrances, over and above the ordinary accidents -to horse or vehicle, such as casting a shoe or breaking a strap, were -little excitements in the form of footpads and highwayman, who infested -the district on the look-out for a fat and likely college bursar laden -with fat and likely money-bags. At the first hint of the approach of one -of these gentlemen of the road, blunderbusses were whipped out and fired -in all directions, while the horses were lashed and the coach leaned and -rocked and swayed in its efforts to get away. Afterwards, ensconced behind -a tankard in the Tuns among his somewhat condescending senior friends, the -newcomer warmed up under the influence of hot toddy and genial society, -and described the awful onslaught made upon them by at least fifty mounted -desperadoes. - -Did he come from nearer places than London, then he made his entrance on a -sedate horse, in the fashion of the gentleman-commoner who sent the -following account to Terrae Filius:-- - - “Being of age to play the fool - With muckle glee I left our school - At Hoxton, - And mounted on an easy pad - Rode with my mother and my dad - To Oxon.†- -This merry bard was not exempt from the pangs of loneliness. He, too, felt -the wave of depression when his mother and dad kissed him and slowly -disappeared down the street again on their easy pads. For, after an -amusing description of purchasing gown and square, he burst into tears. - - “I sallied forth to deck my back - With loads of Tuft and black - Prunello. - My back equipt, it was not fair - My head should ’scape, and so as square - As chessboard - A cap I bought, my scull to screen, - Of cloth without and all within - Of pasteboard - When metamorphos’d in attire - More like a parson than a squire - th’ had dressed me - I took my leave with many a tear - Of John our man, and parents dear - Who blessed me....â€[2] - -and there he was, poor lad, probably no more than fifteen years old--of -age to play the fool--left, lachrymose and solitary, to fight his own -battles and win his M.A. spurs before coming to grips with the world. - -George Colman the younger, who matriculated at the House in 1780, and who -would most certainly have been instantly elected to the Bullingdon Club -had he gone up to-day, wrote most feelingly on the question of the lonely -fresher. “A Freshman, as a young academician is call’d on his admission at -Oxford,†he said “is a forlorn animal. It is awkward for an old stager in -life to be thrown into a large company of strangers, to make his way among -them, as he can--but to the poor freshman everything is strange--not only -College society, but any society at all--and he is solitary in the midst -of a crowd. If, indeed, he should happen to come to the University -(particularly to Christ Church) from one of the great publick schools, he -finds some of his late school fellows, who, being in the same straggling -situation with himself, abridge the period of his fireside loneliness, -and of their own, by forming a familiar intercourse--otherwise he may mope -for many a week; at all events, it is generally some time before he -establishes himself in a set of acquaintance.â€[3] - -To-day when we have conquered Smalls and our rooms have been assigned in -college or in the house of some licensed landlady, it is customary for our -“parents dear†to lead us gently by the buttonhole into the study, and -there, with their coat tails spread wide to the blazing logs, to hold -forth in rounded periods what is termed sound advice. When it is over they -shake hands with us, both of us swallowing absurdly, and we go forth -better friends than ever. In the first number of any one of the ’varsity -“rags†for the new academic year it is safe to conclude that the “leader†-will be a word of explanation, advice, friendship, or welcome to the -newcomer. It is always facetious and invariably has a gentle dig at the -fresher’s expense, though the writer, once a fresher himself, should know -better. The following is a specimen of how these things were done in the -old days:-- - - “_Wednesday, May 1, 1721._ - - “To all gentlemen School-Boys, in his majesty’s dominions, who are - design’d for the University of Oxford, Terrae Filius sends greetings; - - “MY LADS,--I am so well acquainted with the variety and malapertness - of you sparks, as soon as you get out of your schoolmaster’s hands, - that I know I shall be called a fusty old fellow, and a thousand - ridiculous names besides, for presuming to give advice, which I would - not, say you, take, if I was a young fellow myself. But being a very - public-spirited person, and a great well wisher to my fellow subjects - (whatever you may think of me) I am resolved, whether you mind what I - am going to say, or not, to lay you down some rules and precautions - for your conduct in the university, on the strict observation or - neglect of which your future good or ill fortune will depend; and, I - am sure that you will thank me, six or seven years hence, for this - piece of service, however troublesome and impertinent you may think it - now.... - - “I observe, in the first place, that you no sooner shake off the - authority of the birch, but you affect to distinguish yourselves from - your dirty school-fellows by a new suit of drugget, a pair of prim - ruffles, a new bob wig, and a brazen-hilted sword; in which tawdry - manner you strut about town for a week or two before you go to - College, giving your selves airs in coffee-houses and booksellers’ - shops, and intruding your selves into the company of us men; from all - which, I suppose you think your selves your own master, no more - subject to controul or confinement--alas! fatal mistake! soon will you - confess that the tyrrany of a school is nothing to the tyrrany of a - college; nor the grammar-pedant to the academical one; for, what - signifies a smarting back-side to a bullied conscience? What was Busby - in comparison to D-e-l-ne? - - “And now, young gentlemen, give me leave to put on my magisterial - face, and to instruct you how you are to demean yourselves in the - station you are entered into, and what sort of behaviour is expected - from you, according to the oaths and these subscriptions. - - “I know very well that you go thither prepossessed with a sanguine - (but ignorant) opinion, that you are to hold fast your principles, - whatever they are; that you are to follow, what in your conscience you - think right, and to desclaim what you think wrong, that this is the - only way to thrive in the world, and to be happy in the next, just as - your silly mothers and superstitious old nurses have taught you: in - the first place, therefore, I advise you to disengage your selves from - all such scrupulous notions; for you may take my word for it, that - otherwise it is a million to one that you miscarry. - - “For, it is a maxim as true as it is common, so many men, so many - minds: but amongst all the different opinions of mankind there is - never, at any one time, but one of those opinions which is call’d - orthodox; if, therefore, you give your fancy the reins and let your - own judgment determine your opinions, what infinite odds is it, - whether you happen to hit upon that single, individual opinion, which - is, at that particular crisis of time, in vogue, and which is - therefore your interest to espouse? But if with all your diligence and - sincerity, you should miss this _rara avis_, this happy phÅ“nix - opinion, then farewell to all your future prospects, to your ease, - your reputation and good name for ever afterwards; I mean, if you are - so weak, and so much bigotted with education, as to think it your duty - to profess what you cannot help believing. - - “Your only safe way therefore is to carry along with you consciences - _chartes blanches_, ready to receive any impression that you please to - stamp upon them; for I would not have you adopt any particular system, - however popular and prevailing it may seem to be at present, because - it may alter, and then will prove fatal to you; for as much as they - talk of steadiness and immutability of principles at Oxford, every - body knows that Popery was for many ages the orthodox religion there; - that protestantism (with much difficulty, and sorely against their - wills) succeeded it; that, not long ago, they were almost all Whigs, - and now almost all Tories, and for ought we know, will e’re long be - Whigs again--never therefore explain your opinion but let your - declarations be, that you are churchmen, and that you believe as the - church believes.... - -[Illustration: COLLEGE SERVICE.] - - “I will only advise you to suppress, as much as possible, that busy - spirit of curiosity, which too often fatally exerts itself in youthful - breasts; but if (notwithstanding all your non-inquisitiveness), the - strong beams of truth will break upon your minds, let them shine - inwardly; disturb not the publick peace with your private discoveries - and illuminations; so, if you have any concern for your welfare and - prosperity, let Aristotle be your guide in philosophy, and Athanasius - in religion.... - - “To call yourself a Whig at Oxford, or to act like one, or to lie - under the suspicion of being one, is the same as to be attainted and - outlaw’d; you will be discouraged and brow beaten in your own college - and disqualified for preferment in any other; your company will be - avoided, and your character abused; you will certainly lose your - degree and at last, perhaps, upon some pretence or other, be - expelled.... - - “Leave no stone unturned to insinuate yourselves into the favour of - the Head, and senior-fellows of your respective colleges.... - - “Whenever you appear before them, conduct yourselves with all specious - humility and demureness; convince them of the great veneration you - have for their persons by speaking very low and bowing to the ground - at every word: whenever you meet them jump out of the way with your - caps in your hands and give them the whole street to walk in, let it - be as broad as it will. Always seem afraid to look them in the face, - and make them believe that their presence strikes you with a sort of - awe and confusion; but above all be very constant at chapel; never - think that you lose too much time at prayers, or that you neglect your - studies too much, whilst you are showing your respect to the church. I - have heard indeed that a former president of St John’s College (a - whimsical, irreligious old fellow) would frequently jobe his students - for going constantly three or four times a day to chapel, and - lingering away their time, and robbing their parents, under a pretence - of serving God. But as this is the only instance I ever met with of - such an Head, it cannot overthrow a general rule.... Another thing - very popular in order to grow the favourites of your Heads, is first - of all to make your selves the favourites of their footmen, concerning - whose dignity and grandeur I have spoken in a former paper. You must - have often heard, my lads, of the old proverb, “Love me, and love my - Dogâ€; which is not very foreign in this case; for if you expect any - favour from the master, you must shew great respect to his servant. - - “Have a particular regard how you speak of those gaudy things which - flutter about Oxford in prodigious numbers, in summer-time, call’d - toasts; take care how you reflect on their parentage, their condition, - their virtue, or their beauty; ever remembering that of the poet, - - ‘Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,’ - - especially when they have spiritual bravoes on their side and old - lecherous bully-backs to revenge their cause on every audacious - contemner of Venus and her altars.... - - “I have but one thing more to mention to you, which is, not to give - into that foolish practice, so common at this time in the university, - of running upon tick, as it is called.... How many hopeful young men - have been ruin’d in this manner, cut short in the midst of their - philosophical enquiries, and for ever afterwards render’d unable to - pursue their studies again with a chearful heart, and without - interruption?... - - “My whole advice, in a few words, is this:-- - - “Let your own interest, abstracted from any whimsical notions of - conscience, honour, honesty or justice, be your guide; consult always - the present humour of the place and comply with it; make yourselves - popular and beloved at any rate; rant, roar, rail, drink, wh--re, - swear, unswear, forswear; do anything, do everything that you find - obliging; do nothing that is otherwise; nor let any considerations of - right and wrong flatter you out of those courses, which you find most - for your advantage. I have only to add, that if you follow this - advice, you will spend your days there not only in peace and plenty, - but with applause and reputation; if you have any secret good - qualities they will be pointed out in the most glaring light, and - aggravated in the most exquisite manner; if you have ever so many ugly - ones, they will be either palliated or jesuitically interpreted into - good ones. Whereas, on the contrary, if you despice and reject these - wholesome admonitions, violence, disrest, and an ill name will be the - rewards of your folly and obstinacy; it will avail you nothing, that - you have enrich’d your minds with all sorts of useful and commendable - knowledge; and that, as to vulgar morality, you have preserved an - unspotted character before men; these things will rather exasperate - the holy men against you, and excite all their cunning and artifice - for your destruction; the least frailties, humanity is prone to, will - be magnify’d into the grossest of all wickedness; and the best - actions, our nature is capable of, will be debased and vilified away. - And now do even as it shall seem good unto you. Farewell. - - TERRAE FILIUS.†- - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker--Colman and the - Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford manner--Homunculi - Togati--Academia and a mother’s love--The jovial father--Underground - dog-holes and shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night. - - -The advice tendered to freshmen in Amhurst’s amazing and bitterly -satirical letter is for those who have been matriculated. They must, -therefore, fulfil all the rites of matriculation before they can read, -mark, learn, and inwardly digest it. As the process was vastly different -in Georgian times, it is interesting to read the varying accounts of -eighteenth-century freshmen. The gentleman who, “being of age to play the -fool,†came up with his parents from Hoxton, has written a somewhat -indiscreet but all the more laughable description of the ceremony. - - “The master took me first aside, - Shew’d me a scrawl, I read, and cry’d - Do Fidem. - Gravely he shook me by the fist, - And wish’d me well--we next request - a tutor. - He recommends a staunch one, who - In Perkin’s cause has been his co- - adjutor - To see this precious stick of wood, - I went (for so they deem’d it good) - in fear, Sir. - And found him swallowing loyally - Six deep his bumpers which to me - seem’d queer, Sir. - He bade me sit and take my glass, - I answered, looking like an ass, - I, I can’t, Sir. - Not drink!--you don’t come here to pray! - The merry mortal said by way - of answer. - To pray, Sir! No--my lad, ’tis well, - Come! here’s our friend Sacheverell! - here’s Trappy! - Here’s Ormond! Marr! in short so many - Traitors we drank, it made my Cranium nappy....†- -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE &C. &C. AT OXFORD.] - -The lad then went out into the town with this same “sociable priest,†-bought his gown, and parted from his parents, and then-- - - “The master said they might believe him, - So righteously (the Lord forgive him!) - he’d govern - He’d show me the extremest love, - Provided that I did not prove - too stubborn. - So far, so good--but now fresh fees - Began (for so the custom is) - Fresh fees!--with drink they knock you down, - You spoil your clothes; and your new gown - you spue in....†- -He then retired for the night, and was awakened at six o’clock next -morning by a “scoundrel†of a servitor. He rose and went to chapel, very -sick and still half drunk. Later in the day, when he had recovered -sufficiently, he went with his tutor to Broad Street, where-- - - “Built in the form of Pidgeon-pye, - A house there is for rooks to lie - and roost in. - Thither to take the oaths I went, - My tutor’s conscience well content - to trust in. - Their laws, their articles of grace - Forty, I think (save half a brace), - was willing - To swear to; swore, engag’d my soul, - And paid the swearing-broker whole - ten shilling. - Full half a pound I paid him down, - To live in the most p----d town, - o’ th’ nation.†- -It must not be understood, however, that such orgies characterised the -ceremony of matriculation. This writer of fluent doggerel was a gentleman -commoner, but he seems to have caught at every lax point that he -personally observed as a target for his wit. The more sober matriculation, -both literally and figuratively, of George Colman the younger can be most -suitably placed in the other side of the scale. “On my entrance at -Oxford,†he wrote, “as a member of Christ Church, I was too foppish a -follower of the prevailing fashions to be a reverential observer of -academical dress--in truth, I was an egregious little puppy--and I was -presented to the Vice-Chancellor, to be matriculated, in a grass-green -coat, with the furiously-bepowder’d pate of an ultra-coxcomb; both of -which are proscribed by the Statutes of the University. Much courtesy is -shown, in the ceremony of matriculation, to the boys who come from Eton -and Westminster; insomuch that they are never examined in respect to their -knowledge of the School Classicks--their competency is considered as a -matter of course--but, in subscribing the articles of their matriculation -oaths, they sign their _praenomen_ in Latin; I wrote, therefore, -_Georgeius_--thus, alas! inserting a redundant E--and, after a pause, said -enquiringly to the Vice-Chancellor--looking up in his face with perfect -_naiveté_--‘pray, sir, am I to add Colmanus?’ - -“My Terentian father, who stood at my right elbow, blush’d at my -ignorance--the Tutor (a piece of sham marble) did not blush at all--but -gave a Sardonick grin, as if _Scagliola_ had moved a muscle! - -“The good-natur’d Vice drollingly answer’d me--that the surnames of -certain _profound authors_, whose comparatively modern works were extant, -had been latinized; but that a Roman termination tack’d to the patronymick -of an English gentleman of my age and appearance, would rather be a -redundant formality. There was too much delicacy in the worthy Doctor’s -satire for my green comprehension--and I walk’d back, unconscious of it, -to my College--strutting along in the pride of my unstatutable curls and -coat, and practically breaking my oath, the moment I had taken it.†- -From both their accounts, differing so widely from each other, it would -seem that the ceremony of matriculation, which to-day is conducted with an -almost ecclesiastical solemnity, was in those days simply a matter of -form, a tedious business which the Vice-Chancellor hurried through with -all speed. One man performed his part in a condition of semi-intoxication -without an inkling of the meaning of the oaths to which he subscribed, -while another was presented to the Vice-Chancellor in clothes more -suitable to a fancy dress ball than to his formal admittance to the -university. Neither man drew upon himself the reprimand which to-day would -immediately be levelled at him. - -In becoming a member of the university, therefore, the eighteenth-century -freshman received his first experience of the complete inanition and -futility of the Don world. Apparently he suffered no apprehension on the -score of not conducting himself with fitting politeness when in the -presence of the authorities. Their opinion of him gave him no concern. He -was far more anxious not to contravene the unwritten laws of the -Undergraduate world. Once the tiresome but necessary matriculation became -a thing of the past, he began to look about him, anxiously at first from -the desire to avoid grievous blunders which would make him a -laughing-stock. All initiative was far too dangerous when the lynx eyes of -the entire college were upon him. Actuated by the firm belief that at -least he could not be criticised for politeness and good-breeding, the -timid freshman endeavoured to ingratiate himself in the eyes of all by -doffing his cap with humble frequence. From “Academia, or the Humours of -Oxford,†the following bitter excerpt on the question of the freshman’s -manners is vastly entertaining. - - “Now being arrived at his College, - The place of learning and of knowledge, - A while he’ll leer about, and snivel ye, - And doff his Hat to all most civilly, - Being told at home that a shame face too, - Was a great sign that he had some Grace too, - He’ll speak to none, alas! for he’s - Amased at every Man he sees: - May-hap this lasts a Week, or two, - Till some Scab laugh’s him on’t, so - That when most you’d expect his mending, - His Breeding’s ended, and not ending - Now he dares walk abroad, and dare ye, - Hat on, in peoples’ Faces stare ye; - Thinks what a Fool he was before, to - Pull off his Hat, which he’d no more do; - But that the devil shites Disasters, - So that he’s forc’d to cap the Masters, ... - He must cap them; but for all other, - Tho’ ’twere his Father, or his Mother, - His Gran’num, Uncle, Aunt, or Cousin, - He wo’ not give one Cap to a dozen.†- -What wonders may be worked in a week or two! From almost servile -politeness he went to the extreme of discourtesy with the assurance of a -second-year man. - -Imitation is, however, the essence of life. Because certain things are -done, all men are compelled to do them unless they wish to incur social -ostracism. We are like sheep and must follow our leaders with docility and -readiness. If we decline to bow the neck to convention, and declare for -originality and freedom, society turns and rends us. At Oxford the -punishment for such a crime as originality is swift. A horde of outraged -seniors descends like an avalanche upon the sinner’s rooms. They visit -their wrath not only upon his belongings but upon his person, and -eventually they leave him in a condition of mental and physical chaos, to -realise the utter futility of kicking against the pricks. - -In the eighteenth century the same social creed was practised. For any -transgression from the commonplace the chastisement of the culprit was -inevitable. The freshman undoubtedly realised the truth of this, however -vaguely, and conducted himself according to the rules laid down by his -seniors. His excessive good manners lasted only until the moment when it -was born in upon him that rudeness was the policy of his leaders. - -But though he might be no more than a scant fifteen years of age, as soon -as he wiped away the last tear caused by the departure of his mother, the -fresher became a Man, aggressively and consistently so. “No character,†-wrote Colman, “is more jealous of the Dignity of Man (not excepting -Colonel Bath, in Fielding’s Novel of Amelia), than a lad who has just -escaped from School birch to College discipline. This early Lord of the -Creation is so inflated with the importance of virility, that his -pretension to it is carefully kept up in almost every sentence he utters. -He never mentions any one of his associates but as a gentlemanly or a -pleasant man--a studious man, a dashing man, a drinking man, etc., -etc.--and the Homunculi Togati of Sixteen always talk of themselves as -Christ Church men, Trinity, St John’s, Oriel, Brazen-nose men, -etc.--according to their several colleges, of which old Hens, they are the -Chickens--in short, there is no end to the colloquial manhood of these -mannikins.†This passage might easily have been written to-day and not -about the middle of the eighteenth century, for the point of view of the -modern Oxford man is exactly the same as it was then. - -The parents of the old-time fresher looked at his going up and his -immediate assumption of manhood from very opposite points of view. The -mother, with regulation anxiety, conceived him to be a hardly-used, -homesick, half-starved, uncomfortable, thoroughly wretched fellow, doomed -to live in stone walls in a fever-stricken and miasmic locality. - - “Most dearly tender’d by his Mother, - Who loves him better than his brother; - So she at home a good while keeps him, - In White-broath, and Canary steeps him; - And tho’ his Noddle’s somewhat empty, - His Guts are stuffed with Sweet-meats plenty.†- -This is how “Academia†described the mother’s far-reaching apron-string -still feeling out, though some weeks cut, for her far distant son. Not so -the father! When his wife sent a servant up to Oxford with a well-stuffed -hamper for her boy and fond messages as to his health, he went down to the -servants’ hall and, planting himself in front of the returned messenger, -asked “If’s Son has got a Punck yet Whores he, and gets ye often drunk -yet; Being told by’s Man, he took him quaffing, For joy he bursts his -sides with laughing; and prithee John (says he) and how was’t--Ha, Drunk -i’ the Cellar, as a Sow, wast?†- -Although the father took it for granted that his son had immediately -forgotten his home and arrived in an instant at man’s estate--as far as -that permits of getting drunk--he was not always in the right. To a -certain extent the anxieties of the mother were justified, for, on -arriving at Oxford, the freshman did not always fall on a bed of clover. -In many instances he was lucky to get a bed at all in some poky little -garret with one window, through which could be obtained a minute view of -sky and stars, and which was ice-cold in winter and in summer stuffy to a -degree. However large the college there were always more men in residence -than could be properly housed. Colman said of the House, one of the -biggest colleges in Oxford, that it “was so completely cramm’d, that -shelving garrets, and even unwholesome cellars, were inhabited by young -gentlemen, in whose father’s families the servants could not be less -liberally accommodated.†He refers also to a fellow Westminster boy who -was “stuffed into one of these underground dog-holes.†Then, too, even up -to the beginning of the nineteenth century there prevailed a system of -ragging freshers which did not tend to make them any the less homesick. -They were swindled by their scouts, and shamefully misused by their -bedmakers. - -To add to their discomfort their tutors were in many cases fast allies of -the bottle, and totally unable to render them any assistance in the matter -of finding their feet. Colman made a very illuminative reference, from his -own experience, to the scurvy tricks which the scouts and bedmakers played -upon the long-suffering fresher. “My two mercenaries,†he wrote, “having -to do with a perfect greenhorn, laid in all the articles for me which I -wanted--wine, tea, sugar, coals, candles, bed and table linen--with many -useless etcetera, which they told me I wanted--charging me for everything -full half more than they had paid, and then purloining from me full half -of what they had sold.†- -His scout and bedmaker had each seen fit to enter the bonds of holy -matrimony, and both brought up their better halves to assist in despoiling -the luckless greenhorn. He, however, soon lost his greenness and set about -putting his house in order--with the result that all four were turned out. -In their places, he duly installed a scout and a bedmaker who were married -to each other--a tactical move which “consolidates knavery, and reduces -your _ménage_ to a couple of pilferers, instead of four.†But before -Colman had found himself sufficiently to be able firmly but courteously to -dispense with their services, his bedmaker, fittingly called a harpy, -played him false most condemnably. “I was glad,†he said, writing of his -first night in Oxford, “on retiring early to rest, that I might ruminate, -for five minutes, over the important events of the day, before I fell fast -asleep. I was not, then, in the habit of using a night-lamp or burning a -rush-light; so, having dropt the extinguisher upon my candle, I got into -bed; and found, to my dismay, that I was reclining in the dark upon a -surface very like that of a pond in a hard frost. The jade of a bedmaker -had spread the spick and span sheeting over the blankets, fresh from the -linen-draper’s shop-unwash’d, uniron’d, unair’d, ‘with all its -imperfections on its head.’ Through the tedious hours of an inclement -January night, I could not close my eyes--my teeth chattered, my back -shivered--I thrust my head under the bolster, drew my knees up to my chin; -it was all useless, I could not get warm--I turned again and again, at -every turn a hand or a foot touch’d upon some new cold place; and at every -turn the chill glazy clothwork crepitated like iced buckram. God forgive -me for having execrated the authoress of my calamity! but, I verily think, -that the meekest of Christians who prays for his enemies, and for mercy -upon “all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks,†would in his orisons, in -such a night of misery, make a specifick exception against his -Bedmaker!â€[4] - -In these enlightened days a fresher, even, would not have left her out of -his prayers--he would have invented new ones for her especial benefit. -Poor Colman found when he rose betimes in the morning, making a virtue of -necessity, that a night of misery was not the only torment that the -ill-favoured hussy had stored up for him. For, having abluted in ice-cold -water in the hopes of refreshing himself, he found that the towel was in -an even worse state of hardness than the sheets; while at breakfast the -tablecloth was so stiff that he dreaded to sit down to his meal because he -feared to cut his shins against the edge of it. With intent, doubtless, to -add humiliation to injury, the old hag had also left his surplice in a -state of pristine unwashedness, so that “cased in this linen panoply, -which covers him from his chin to his feet, and seems to stand on end, in -emulation of a suit of armour (the certain betrayer of an academical -debutant) the Newcomer is to be heard at several yards distance, on his -way across a quadrangle, cracking and bouncing like a dry faggot upon the -fire--and he never fails to command notice, in his repeated marches to -prayer, till soap and water have silenced the noise of his arrival at -Oxford.†- -The optimism of a Georgian freshman was truly amazing. The invaluable gift -of youth is undoubtedly its explanation. To be thrust suddenly into -entirely new surroundings where not only the manners and customs were -quite different from any of which he had experience before, but where it -was necessary to begin again, to readjust his outlook upon life, was a -very trying experience. It was one which men of greater maturity would -hesitate to undergo. And yet here was this man, a mere lad of fifteen or -sixteen, gladly entering a new world with a vague notion of the things -which would be expected of him or of the things to expect. Without a -twinge of nervousness he signed his name to long-winded oaths, and -unconsciously perjured himself five minutes later. Everywhere he saw -strange faces, met with new and incomprehensible experiences, and found -himself doing the wrong thing. With undaunted cheerfulness, however, he -allowed Oxford to treat him as she chose, to mould him to her own liking, -to pull him this way and that, until eventually, with an increased -optimism, his schoolboy corners were rounded off, and he became one with -Oxford. It was his very lack of experience which enabled him to go through -such a difficult time without flinching. He did not realise the tremendous -forces at work upon him. He was, in fact, like a seed put into earth. -After the rain, the sun, the wind, and all the forces of Nature have been -brought to bear upon it, slowly and irresistibly it shoots up and becomes -at last a flower. The Oxford freshman burst forth into blossom at the end -of his first year in the same helpless way. He was quite unable to tell by -what steps his development had been brought about, and was perfectly -content to go through his whole university career in the same blind way. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne’s coffee-house and the _billet-doux_--Tick--Liquor - capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_--Latin odes for tradesmen - only. - - -One of the most interesting things to study at the university is the way -in which a man gets into a certain set. Let me take for example a group of -freshmen who come from the same public school, who have played together in -the school games, possibly invited each other home for the holidays. Their -tastes and ideas are apparently the same. On coming up to Oxford each man -is differently affected. For the first few weeks they meet in one -another’s rooms and discuss their impressions freely and without any -reserve. Then suddenly, after the manner of mushrooms which spring up in a -single night, it is found that one of them has got into the racing set -which despises everybody who does not ride a horse; another into the -working set, which lives, eats, and sleeps with its books; a third into -the religious set, which in a quiet, unostentatious manner goes out of its -way to help the poor, attends frequent religious meetings and, -unfortunately and quite undeservedly, is somewhat scorned by the rest of -the college; a fourth has got into the smart set, and has become a -“bloodâ€; and others into the thousand and one little groups which go to -the composition of a university. - -This curious sudden upheaval of ideas and habits which is brought about in -one short term is to be found in every college every year, just as it -appertained in the eighteenth century. I have shown the way in which some -of these freshmen came to feel ashamed of their clothes and crept into -the back entrances of barber’s and tailor’s shops, while their friends -remained perfectly satisfied with their appearance, and jogged along -without any desire for silks and satins. - -The Georgian “blood,†however, was a person of tantamount importance. It -was he who provided the university with food for mirth, envy, satire, -recrimination. In a previous chapter I quoted Amhurst’s description of how -a Smart might be distinguished when he sauntered along, languidly twirling -his clouded amber cane and smelling philosophically of essence. His main -objects in life were apparently to avoid the accusation of being -ill-mannered, to consume daily as much liquor as possible, to be ardent in -singing the praises of the latest toast, and to expend in finery far more -money than he possessed. He thought himself to be a model of culture and -was, in fact, the man of the period who put on the most “side.†- -Amhurst, with an editorial genius that was without parallel in those -times, wrote an attack on the good manners of Undergraduates in order that -he might criticise, or better, satirise, that “large body of fine -gentlemen call’d Smarts.†Under the name of Valentine Frippery he answered -his own attack with a bitter reply, taking up the cudgels stoutly on -behalf of the attackees, and wound up his article by riddling all men of -the Frippery type. - -[Illustration: BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD.] - -Allowing that Terrae Filius was ever a caricaturist, and that all his -tirades and jibes must be taken cum _grano salts_, nevertheless the -picture he draws of the Bucks of the first head is a very true one. -“Valentine Frippery†wrote in answer to the accusation of ill-breeding as -follows:-- - - “_To Terrae Filius._ - - “_Christ Church College, July 1._ - - “MR PRATE-APACE.--Amongst all the vile trash and ribaldry with which - you have lately poisoned the publick, nothing is more scandalous - and saucy than your charging our university with the want of - civility and good manners. Let me tell you, Sir, for all your haste, - we have as well-bred, accomplish’d gentlemen in Oxford, as any where - in Christendom; men that dress as well, sing as well, dance as well, - and behave in every respect as well, though I say it, as any man under - the sun. You are the first audacious Wit-wou’d that ever call’d Oxford - a boorish, uncivilised place: And demme, Sir, you ought to be hors’d - out of all good company for an impudent praggish Jackanapes. Oxford a - boorish place! poor wretch! I am sorry for thy ignorance. Who wears - finer lace, or better linnen than Jack Flutter? who has handsomer - tie-wigs or more fashionable cloaths or cuts a bolder dash than Tom - Paroquet? Where can you find a more handy man at a tea-table than - Robin Tattle? Or, without vanity I may say it, one that plays better - at Ombre than him, who subscribes himself an enemy to all such pimps - as thou art?†- -Such are the arguments he brought up against a charge of bad manners: -singing, dancing, handy at a tea-table, wearing the best lace and linen -and cutting a bold dash. The perfect gentleman indeed! The acme of -culture! He, with all the others of his kidney, put in an appearance at -Lyne’s coffee-house in academical undress somewhere about eleven -o’clock--that is to say, immediately after a gentle dalliance with -breakfast. Here he discussed the topics of the hour, heard the latest -news, enjoyed the latest scandals, and then strolled in the Park or under -Merton wall. Those who made no pretensions to “Smartness†were meanwhile -dining in Hall--a thing far beneath the dignity of a Buck of the first -head who ate in solitary dignity in his own chamber, his meal consisting, -for example, of “boil’d chicken and pettitoes.†After resting awhile, he -spent an hour or so in overcoming the difficulties of dressing. That -satisfactorily concluded, it was his bounden duty to make an afternoon -appearance at Lyne’s. About five o’clock he dropped in at Hamilton’s, -where he “struts about the room for a while and drinks a dram of citron.†-Thence he returned to college and adjourned to the chapel “to shew how -genteely he dresses, and how well he can chaunt.†Having given conclusive -demonstrations of these two accomplishments, he drank tea with some -celebrated toast and attended her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Such a ridiculous idea as work never entered his head. Any -time he might give to reading was employed in the study of novels and -romances. - -As an example of his passion for cleanliness at all costs, Terrae Filius -gave an account of an adventure of one of these gentry at Lyne’s -coffee-house. “This afternoon, a noted Smart of Christ Church College, as -he was writing a _billet-doux_ had the misfortune to blot one of his -ruffles with a spot of ink, which put the gentleman in so great a -disorder, that he threw the standish through the window, stamped about the -room for half an hour together, and was often heard to say, I wonder that -gentlemen cannot find some cleaner method of conveying their thoughts, and -that he wished he might be blown up wherever he went, if he ever made use -of that filthy liquor again, though the displeasure of the whole fair sex -was the consequence. Let prigs and pedants, said he, keep all the nasty -manufacture to themselves.†- -It is comforting to be assured that this elaborate sect was not entirely -composed of peers and gentleman commoners, for their street behaviour was -far worse than anything that even the most hypercritical Somerville -blue-stocking can accuse Undergraduates of to-day. “They cannot forbear -laughing,†said Amhurst, “at every body that obeys the statutes, and -differs from them; or (as my correspondent expresses it in the proper -dialect of the place) that does not cut as bold a dash as they do. They -have singly, for the most part, very good assurances; but when they walk -together in bodies (as they often do), how impregnable are their -foreheads? They point at every foul they meet, laugh very loud, and -whisper as loud as they laugh. Demme, Jack, there goes a prig! Let us blow -the puppy up. Upon which they all stare him full in the face, turn him -from the wall as he passes by, and set up an horse laugh, which puts the -plain raw novice out of countenance, and occasions great triumph amongst -these tawdry desperadoes.†- -Like all hooligans they were thorough cowards unless backed up by vastly -superior numbers. It took about twenty of them, and that with the -assistance of Dutch courage, to frighten some three or four foreigners and -to kick a Presbyterian parson out of a coffee-house. They were for the -most part sons of country farmers with practically no money who got into -the Smart set immediately after coming up, and who remained Smarts just so -long as the “mercers, taylors, shoe makers, and perriwig-makers will tick -with them.†Tradesmen of that day were apparently possessed of far longer -patience than most of the present generation. To-day they despatch -solicitor’s letters after two terms. Then they allowed a bill to lie -fallow (with the usual accretion of interest) for three or four years. - -With his usual quaint humour Amhurst declared that he has seen these same -Smarts two or three years afterwards “in gowns and cassocks, walking with -demure looks and an holy leer; so easy is the transition from dancing to -preaching, and from the bowling-green to the pulpit.†- -The Rev. Richard Graves, a Pembroke man, in 1732, related that he became -friends with a genial crowd who passed their evenings in drinking strong -ale, smoking like chimneys, punning, and singing Bacchanalian catches. -Some gentlemen commoners, however, Smarts, who came from the same part of -the country as Graves, rescued him from the ill-bred hands of such low -company--so considered chiefly on account of the liquor they drank. In his -own words “they good-naturedly invited me to their party: they treated me -with port wine and arrack-punch; and then, when they had drunk so much, as -hardly to distinguish wine from water, they would conclude with a bottle -or two of claret. They kept late hours and drank their favourite toasts on -their knees. This was deemed good company and high life; but it neither -suited my taste, my fortune, or my constitution.†- -Night after night of this deep drinking made the fortunes of the -spirit-merchants, but left some of the drinkers soddened and useless. I -may quote, as an instance, the case of Lord Lovelace. - -It is a well-known fact that the Principal of his Hall reported, and that -truthfully, that “he never knew him sober but twelve hours and that he -used every morning to drink a quart of brandy, or something equivalent to -it, to his own share.†Hearne, too, in his diary makes reference to a -commoner of Magdalen Hall, a son of Dr Inett, who was found dead from -drinking ale and brandy. There were three companions with him, but they -were merely asleep under the table. Professor Pryme, who was up at the end -of the eighteenth century, afterwards wrote that when Hall was over it was -the fashion to collect a large party together to drink wine with a little -dessert. “The host,†he said, “named a Vice-President, and toasts were -given. First a lady by each of the party, then a gentleman, and then a -sentiment. I remember one of these latter, the single married and the -married happy. Every one was required to fill a bumper to the toasts of -the President, the Vice-President, and his own. If any one wished to go to -chapel he was pressed to return afterwards.â€[5] - -The fact, however, that toping constituted such an important feature of -Undergraduate life, among Smarts and non-Smarts equally is not a matter -for vast amazement, or stern condemnation. _Quis custodiet ipsos -custodes?_--for the Dons were if anything even worse than those to whom -they stood in _loco parentis_. The whole world of Dons, from the humblest -and most juvenile Fellow to the king of kings, the Head of a college or -Hall, cultivated the vice of drink as assiduously as if it were a virtue. -Oxford was not so far away from London as not to reflect the manners and -habits of the capital, and since to the Bucks of London abnormal drinking -was then the highest good form, it is not to be wondered at that the -Undergraduates, ever of tender years and advanced imitative faculties, -should give a brilliant reflection of the metropolis. - -Amhurst has pointed out that the Smarts never read anything but plays, -novels, and French comedies. When _The Student_ appeared, however, they -took it up more or less whole-heartedly. In these days of photographic -(that being the polite way of spelling pornographic) weeklies, a new -venture in ’varsity journals is greeted as a nine days’ wonder. However -good the contents provided, the Oxford man prefers to look upon the -fetching features--and limbs, of footlight favourites in papers provided -free of charge in the Junior Common Room. Consequently the rash starter of -a “’varsity rag†is compelled to retire from the lists after the first two -or three issues. In the old days, however, even the _blasé_ Smart had some -initiative left to him in matters of literature. He supported the new -paper with enthusiasm and read every number carefully. After some time he -found that the editor was catering too freely for the Dons. Instead, -however, of discontinuing his subscription he wrote to the editor and -appealed on the grounds that _The Student_ was becoming too prosy and -_Spectator_-like, and urged him to keep it lighter in tone. The following -is an extract from the letter sent in:-- - - “----’S COFFEE-HOUSE, _May 4_. - - “BROTHER STUDENT,--Without a compliment I am much pleased with your - scheme, and heartily wish you success. Hitherto I think you bid fair - for it, and seem to meet with general applause. But will you forgive - my offering a word or two of advice? Let us have no more of your - abstract speculations, as you call them; indeed they are not popular. - Last night, in a full assembly of pretty fellows at this place (all - your admirers), Billy Languish read your fourth number. We all agreed - that your ‘Impudence’ is inimitable, but your ‘letter in defence of - religion,’ tho’ it did not startle us (as you apprehended it would) - somewhat amazed us, I must own. Consider, Mr Student, you write for - the publick of which three fourths are ignoramuses, and therefor, tho’ - we may allow you now and then in compliment to your taylor and mercer - and other learned folks, to insert a Latin ode or epigram, yet I must - needs tell you, that we don’t relish your metaphysics. For which - reason I am directed by all the Smarts at ----’s, to acquaint you, - that we expect (especially if it be English), at least to understand - what we read. We consider your book as a monthly feast or - entertainment; and if we pay our ordinary, ’tis but reasonable the - dishes you set before us should be such as we are able to taste. We - cannot indeed always expect rarities, and may now and then admit of a - trifle or puff by way of make up; but prithee don’t surfeit us with - ambigu’s and inconnu’s. At the same time I must tell you, that we are - much pleased with your last Sapphic, that we reverence Tony Alsop’s - memory, and have resolv’d one and all to subscribe to his works. Billy - Languish and Dick Dimple indeed say, the ‘verses on the grotto’ are - better; and Dick (who you know is a wit as well as a beau) gave us - off hand a translation of them, but I have indeed since found out - where he borrows it.--I am yours, - - HARRY DIDAPPER.†- -The _habitués_ of the unknown coffee-house, all pretty fellows, looked -upon _The Student_ as a “monthly feast of entertainment!†For all their -soaking and “wenching†and slacking they would seem to have had a certain -amount of brain and appreciative capability left to them. - -In a subsequent chapter I shall set down the methods by which these men -obtained their degrees after having spent some six or seven years inside -the old walls of the university. They had as little time for work as the -“bloods†of to-day whose every moment is claimed by matters of far greater -moment than mere study! To a certain extent the Smarts, though they -perhaps did not know it, were philosophers. They said to themselves that -life was short and youth shorter still, that therefore it behoved them to -cram in to the six years of their university career as much pleasure, -excitement, and amusement as was possible. The eighteenth century lent -itself whole-heartedly to this programme. The Dons, who should have been -intent on governing Oxford, had other game afoot. The Undergraduates were -thus left to their own devices, and the Smarts were the first to take -advantage of such Arcadian conditions. They delayed the hour of rising -until the sun grew weary of calling them out. There was no stern shepherd -to round them into chapel at the ungodly hour of eight o’clock. Like -butterflies they flitted from place to place at the caprice of the moment. -They held Bacchanalian revels in and out of college without regard to Dons -and statutes. Their paramours, far from being ejected from the city, were -shared with the authorities, thus proving that they had a better -understanding of real socialism than the exponents of to-day. The same -cobbled streets that hear us shouting our way home in the small hours, saw -the Georgian men staggering along with tight-linked arms in the silvery -moonlight, while Big Tom boomed out the birth of a new day. - -As year after year slipped relentlessly off the calender they absorbed the -unique atmosphere of Oxford, fully appreciating under their mask of -_blasé_ scorn the traditions and the unforgettable charm of _Alma mater_. -They carried their love and reverence for her to the grave, and gave proof -of it by sending their sons and grandsons to swell the never-ending -procession of men who sing the praises of Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven--The President - under her thumb--Amhurst’s table of cons.--King Charles and the other - place. - - -What is an Oxford toast? For answer I cannot do better than turn to that -Oxford _Encyclopædia_, Terrae Filius, who from the ambush of his -anonymity, directed his fire upon all toasts with unerring aim and deadly -effect. - -“She is born, as the King says, of mean estate, being the daughter of some -insolent mechanick, who fancies himself a gentleman and resolves to keep -up his family by marrying his girl to a parson or a schoolmaster; to which -end, he and his wife call her pretty miss, as soon as she knows what it -means, and sends her to the dancing school to learn how to hold up her -head, and turn out her toes; she is taught from a child not to play with -any of the dirty boys and girls in the neighbourhood; but to mind her -dancing, and have a great respect for the gown. This foundation being -laid, she goes on fast enough of herself, without any farther assistance, -except an hoop, a gay suit of cloaths, and two or three new holland -smocks. Thus equipt, she frequents all the balls and publick walks in -Oxford; where it is a great chance if she does not, in time, meet with -some raw coxcomb or other, who is her humble servant; waits upon her home, -calls upon her again the next day; dangles after her from place to place; -and is at last, with some art and management, drawn in to marry her. - - “She has impudence--therefore she has wit; - She is proud--therefore she is well bred; - She has fine Cloaths--therefore she is genteel; - She would fain be a wife-and therefore she is not a Wh--re.†- -Amhurst also informed his readers that they appeared principally in -summer, like butterflies, when they flitted from flower to flower of the -Smarts under Merton Wall. “The toasts,†he remarked, “are scouring up and -new-trimming their best gowns and petticoats against the summer, and -intend to make a splendid appearance.†These ladies were an extremely -conspicuous feature of Undergraduate life. In the description of the -Smart’s day we are told how after chapel he drank tea with some celebrated -toast, and then waited upon her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Afterwards, when drowning his sorrows at the particular -establishment in vogue at the time, the Smart exhausted himself in his -efforts to dash off a sonnet to her eyelashes or a rhapsody in praise of -her tip-tilted nose. He drank her health upon his knees, tossing off a -non-heeltaps to every letter of her name. His day was considered wasted -unless he were seen in all his delicate apparel in company with the -acknowledged reigning queen among toasts. - -One lady, by name of Flavia, kept an orange tree growing in the window of -her bed-chamber. This inspired a burst of classic poetry from a Buck who -saw and envied it. In one of the volumes of Terrae Filius a most amusing -story was related which shows what influence these toasts exercised upon -the Undergraduates. She, too, answered to the name of Flavia--whether she -were one and the same as the horticultural lady it is impossible to say. A -“promising lad†came up and was recognised by his master--of whom he was -“a very favouriteâ€--to be a “diligent and ingenious scholar.†- -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE FIRST QUADRANGLE.] - -That character he maintained for some time, keeping to his chamber and his -books, with sported oak, and not concerning himself with the vagaries of -fashion; “indeed the poor young fellow did not dress smart; nay, often was -really dirty.†Gradually he made the acquaintance of some noted Bucks and -sought their society and conversation out of curiosity. But they -continually ragged him about his shabby appearance. “Dick!†said they, -“prithee let’s burn this damned brown wig of thine; get thee a little more -linnen.†The lad for a time was obdurate, but at last put forward in -excuse that “this alteration of himself would make him be taken too much -notice of, and, it may be, his new dress might sit so awkward, that he -would become the jest of his acquaintance.†This was a set-back to the -friends, but they came to the cunning conclusion that he might be tricked -into it. So they buttonholed him. “Dick,†said one, “did you never see -Miss Flavia, one of our top toasts?†“No,†quoth he, “unless at her -window.†“Well, faith,†said the friend, “to be plain, she likes you, I -myself heard her say in public company, I have been shew’d Mr Such-a-one -several times; everybody says he’s a man of fire; it is a thousand pities -he’s such a sloven.†Dick was finished. He went home obsessed with the -idea, flung his wig into the fire, forgot his studies entirely and swore -to see Flavia the very next day. His friends spread a rumour abroad that -he had come into money, and his tradesmen gave him unlimited credit. -Accordingly he was decked out, in ruffles and all the other paraphernalia, -and from that day worshipped at the lady’s shrine. In these days such fair -Flavias would in all probability be found pulling beer in a public-house, -totally devoid of H’s, but none the less popular among a certain set. -To-day they can be treated with a certain amount of Undergraduate levity, -but in the eighteenth century it behoved the contumelious to walk -delicately and to be very careful. Amhurst hoisted the danger signal when -he related that “not long ago, a bitter lampoon was published upon the -most celebrated of these petticoat-professors, as soon as it came out the -town was in an uproar, and a very severe sentence was passed upon the -author of this anonymous libel; to discover whom no pains were spared; all -the disgusted, ill-natured fellows in the university were, one after -another, suspected upon this occasion. At last, I know not how, it was -peremptorily fixed upon one; whether justly, or not, I cannot say; but the -parties offended resolved to make an example of somebody for such an -enormous crime, and one of them (more enraged than the rest) was heard to -declare ‘that, right or wrong, that impudent scoundrel (mentioning his -name) should be expelled, by G--d; and that she had interest enough with -the president and senior fellows of his college to get his business -done.’†And the scandalous part of the business was that the president and -senior fellows who had evidently had relations with the woman in question -were such cowards as to yield to her demands, which probably took the form -of threats of exposure against themselves, and sent the unoffending man -down for good. - -In his character of general reformer Terrae Filius felt himself compelled, -however reluctantly, to “draw his pen against womenkindâ€--the womenkind of -Oxford. His apology for so doing was that “I shall have the misfortunes of -numberless young men to answer for, if I conceal anything which may be for -their advantage, or spare any abuses in the universities, though committed -by the fairest offenders.†- -After a disquisition on love, which he described as “a most arbitrary -passion,†which “engrosses the whole man ... and grumbles at its own -poverty and searches after new acquisitions,†he continued “conscious of -this truth, our wise forefathers took all possible care to purge the seats -of learning of these shining temptations, these dangerous decoys of youth; -but as all their prudence and precaution could not do this entirely, they -made a statute, ‘prohibiting all scholars, as well as Graduates or -Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to frequent the houses and shops of -any townsmen by day, and especially by night; but more especially houses, -which harbour or receive infamous or suspected women, with whom all -scholars are strictly forbid to keep company, either in their own private -chambers, or at the houses of any townsmen.’ I suppose it will be objected -by the Smarts, or others, that this statute extends only to common -prostitutes or night-walkers, and not to those divine creatures dignified -by the name of toasts; but I think that it includes all suspected women, -and especially the toasts, for the following reasons:-- - -“1. Because it was not the only design of the statute to restrain the -scholars from debauchery (from which, I hope, they need no forcible -restraint!) but to prevent them also from neglecting their studies, and -entering into scandalous marriages; of which they are in no danger from -common strumpets and mercenary street-walkers. - -“2. Because there was no occasion for a statute against common whores, any -more than against house-breakers and pickpockets, which are all punishable -by the laws of the land. - -“3. Because I have a better opinion of the townsmen of Oxford (who are, -many of them, matriculated men), than to believe that they would entertain -in their houses such filthy drabs; though it is probable enough that they -would marry their daughters to advantage if they could; in which I can see -no great harm on their parts. - -“4. Because I have a better opinion of the scholars too, than to believe -that they would keep company with such cattle; and I think it is a scandal -to the university to stand in need of a statute, which supposes that any -of her hopeful children are addicted to such beastliness.†- -Amhurst’s reasons are logical enough to convince the meanest intelligence -of the true nature of the Oxford toasts. In support of them he brings up -no less a second than King Charles I., who wrote officially and at some -length on the question of university government to the Vice-Chancellor and -Heads of Cambridge commanding the suppression of women such as those in -question. The reason why the good King did not treat Oxford to a similar -injunction is, supposedly, that the need for it did not reach the royal -ears. It is hinted more than once, too, in the pages of Terrae Filius that -the Dons themselves entertained feelings of sympathy towards the toasts, -and shielded them from royal visitations by intentionally keeping things -quiet. Judging from the character of the Dons in the eighteenth century it -is highly probable that such was indeed the case. - -“Happy is it,†says Amhurst, “for the present generation of Oxford toasts, -that King Charles I. (so much unlike that accomplished gentleman, his son) -was long ago laid in the dust! Were that rigid King now alive, my mind -misgives me strangely, that I should see an end of all the balls and -cabals, and junketings at Oxford; that several of our most celebrated and -beautiful madams would pluck off their fine feathers, and betake -themselves to an honest livelihood; or make their personal appearance -before the lords of his majesty’s privy council, to answer their contempt, -and such other matters as should be objected against them.†- -Unmourned and besmirched the last of the Oxford toasts has long since -passed beyond the judgment of man. The Dons were in all too many cases the -cause of sending recruits to the ranks of the oldest profession in the -world. Heads of colleges, reverend clerics, and holders of Fellowships -must all answer to the charge of “wenching.†- -[Illustration: A VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN.] - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -The Servitor - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors. - - -In the year of grace nineteen hundred and eleven there are three main -divisions of the genus Undergraduate:--scholars, commoners, and “toshers,†-the last sometimes known as non-collegiate Undergraduates. Under a fourth -heading, which constitutes a small subdivision all by itself, I may place -the working-men Undergraduates--the members of Ruskin Hall. Georgian -Undergraduates might also be split up into parallel divisions. There were -also servitors, who were, in some sort, the ancient form of the -working-men Undergraduates of the twentieth century. - -Oxford in Georgian times was, according to the popular conception, a place -where peers and rich men sent their sons in order that they might receive -a better education than anywhere else in the world. The erudition, -classical learning, and brilliance of the Dons passed all belief. Nowhere -on earth was there gathered together a body of men with such knowledge and -brain power. Did any man yearn for instruction in any subject, Oxford was -the only place where that subject was exhaustively known and thoroughly -taught. - -It naturally followed, therefore, that the lower classes, who drudged all -day in the effort to keep body and soul together, and provide the -wherewithal to fill the stomachs of their hungry progeny, left Oxford -outside their calculations when discussing the prospective education of -their children. Oxford was a place for rich men. How, then, could their -sons go there? It was impossible. Meanwhile, the children were clamouring -for education. What was to be done? - -Through the influence of rich men who had been to the university the -penniless lads were taken from the plough and entered into colleges as -errand boys and odd-job hands. They were at liberty to pick up what -education they could in the intervals of performing menial tasks for the -gentlemen commoners. They cleaned boots, fetched and carried, and were the -servants of anybody who chose to order them about. Having no money they -slept in coal-holes, cupboards under the stairs, and attics under the -eaves, and satisfied the pangs of hunger by picking up the crumbs which -fell from the rich men’s tables. They had no social intercourse with the -gentlemen commoners, and were treated with scant courtesy by the college -servants. - -The resemblance between the servitor and the Ruskin Hall man is apparent -when due allowance has been made for modern improvements. The modern -conception of Oxford is curiously akin to that of the eighteenth century. -The education to be received still has a very high reputation. The present -day working classes, however, possess a greater ambition than their -antecedents showed. They are no longer content to snatch education in the -intervals of earning their keep. Ruskin Hall has been built for their -especial benefit. There they may win scholarships to their heart’s -content. Their kinship with the humble servitor lies in the fact that they -do their own menial work instead of having to do it for others; that they -have no social intercourse with the Undergraduates of other colleges -except at the weekly debates of the Union Society in which they -distinguish themselves by their fluent Socialistic doctrines; and that -they take no part in the athletic and collegiate life of the university. - -One of the earliest references to servitors in the eighteenth century -records is contained in a comedy entitled “An Act at Oxford.†The play was -written in 1704 by a dramatist named Baker. - -One of the characters was a servitor named Chum. His father was a -chimney-sweep and his mother a poor ginger-bread seller at Cow Cross. Chum -was established in Brazen-Nose College, and his duties consisted in -waiting “upon Gentleman-Commoners, to dress and clean their shoes and make -out their exercises.†His “fortune,†which was “soon told,†consisted -apparently of “two Raggs call’d shirts, a dog’s eared Grammer, and a piece -of _Ovid de Tristibus_.†For having materially assisted his master, a -Smart, to win the hand and heart of a fair damsel known as Berynthia, he -was rewarded, in the play, with the sum of five hundred guineas--an -occurrence which would be the height of improbability in real life, as the -servitor was jeered at and made a kind of Aunt Sally by all and sundry. - -In 1709 one of those poor miserable wretches sat him down--where he -procured pen and paper is still shrouded in mystery--and wrote a poem on -his own doleful condition. Its title is “Servitour,†and it was printed by -“H. Hills in Black-Fryars, near the water side.†He pictured himself to be -coming out of a Skittle Yard in his “rusty round cap.†- - “Like Cheesy Pouch of Shon-ap-Shenkin, - His Sandy locks, with wide Hiatus, - Like Bristles seem’d Erected at us, - Clotted with Sweat, the Ends hung down; - And made Resplendent Cape of Gown; - Whose Cape was thin, and so Transparent, - Hold it t’ th’ Light, you’d scarce beware on’t - ’Twixt Chin and Breast contiguous Band, - Hung in an Obtuse Angle and-- - It had a Latitude Canonick, - His coat so greasy was and torn, - That had you seen it you’d ha’ sworn - ’Twas Ten Years old when he was born. - His buttons fringed as is the Fashion, - In Gallick and Brittanick Nation; - Or, to speak like more Modern fellows, - Their moulds dropt out like ripe Brown-shellers. - His Leather Galligaskin’s rent, - Made Artless Music as he went.... - His Holey Stockins were ty’d up, - One with a Band, one with a Rope.†- -In such clothes as these, the extreme poverty of which would bring a blush -to the cheek of the modern Oxford paper-boy, this gloomy poet had to go to -the Buttery and procure game and capons, ribs of beef, and other succulent -dainties for some gentleman commoner’s dinner, while for himself there was -nothing but “Poor scraps and Cold as I’m a sinner.†As a place to lay his -head o’ nights, he was thankful to get a lumber-room in the apex of the -building, somewhere under the eaves, - - “A Room with Dirt and Cobwebs lin’d, - Which here and there with Spittle Shin’d; - Inhabited let’s see--by Four; - If I mistake not, ’twas no more. - Two buggy beds.... - Their Dormer windows with brown paper, - Was patch’d to keep out Northern Vapour. - The Table’s broken foot stood on, - An old Schrevelious Lexicon, - Here lay together Authors various, - From Homer’s _Iliad_, to Cordelius: - And so abus’d was Aristotle, - He only served to stop a bottle.... - Where eke stood Glass, Dark-Lanthorns ancient - Fragment of Mirerr, Penknife, Trencher, - And forty things which I can’t mention. - Old Chairs and Stools, and such-like Lumber, - Compleatly furnisht out the Chamber.†- -George Whitefield, a servitor at Pembroke in 1732, also shared his rooms -with others. His companions, however, did not appear to have suffered -unduly from the usual depression caused by their hard lot, for they -frequently invited Whitefield to join them “in their excess of riot,†and -looked upon him as a weird and extraordinary creature for his persistent -refusals. His account of the manner of his admission to Pembroke College -is characteristic of the man, and gives an idea of what tasks servitors -were called upon to perform. - -“Being now near eighteen years old, it was judged proper for me to go to -the university. God had sweetly prepared my way. The friends before -applied to, recommended me to the Master of Pembroke College. Another -friend took up ten pounds upon bond (which I have since repaid), to defray -the first expence of entring; and the Master, contrary to all -expectations, admitted me servitor immediately. - -“Soon after my admission I went and resided, and found my having been used -to a publick-house was now of service to me. For many of the servitors -being sick at my first coming up, by diligent and ready attendance I -ingratiated myself into the gentlemen’s favour so far, that many, who had -it in their power, chose me to be their servitor. - -“This much lessened my expence; and indeed, God was so gracious, that, -with the profits of my place, and some presents made me by my kind tutor, -for almost the first three years I did not put all my relations together -to above £24 expence. - -“And it has often grieved my soul to see so many young students spending -their substance in extravagant living, and thereby entirely unfitting -themselves for the prosecution of their proper studies.†- -Because he became a Methodist and attended seriously to his religious -duties, Whitefield was badly ragged. The fact that a servitor should make -any claims to superior godliness made his employers, for some reason, -acutely annoyed. “I daily underwent some contempt at college,†he wrote, -“some have thrown dirt at me; others, by degrees, took away their pay from -me; and two friends that were dear unto me, grew shy of, and forsook me.†- -One of his lay duties as servitor consisted in going round to the -gentlemen’s rooms at ten o’clock at night and knocking to find out who was -in--the majority of them being at that hour, doubtless, discussing punch -and claret in the Mitre or Tuns. All those who made no answer to his knock -were reported and received punishment for being out of college after -hours. - -Of his college exercises he wrote as follows:-- - -“Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme, I had no power to write a -word nor so much as tell my Christian friends of my inability to do it. -Saturday being come (which is the day the students give up their -compositions), it was suggested to me that I must go down into the Hall -and confess I could not make a theme, and so publickly suffer, as if it -were for my Master’s sake. When the bell rung to call us, I went to open -the door to go downstairs, but feeling something give me a violent inward -check, I entered my study, and continued instant in prayer, waiting the -event. For this my tutor fined me half a crown. The next week Satan served -me in like manner again; but having now got more strength, and perceiving -no inward check, I went into the Hall. My name being call’d, I stood up, -and told my tutor I could not make a theme. I think he fined me a second -time; but, imagining that I would not willingly neglect my exercise, he -afterwards called me into the common room, and kindly enquired whether any -misfortune had befallen me, or what was the reason I could not make a -theme? I burst into tears, and assured him that it was not out of contempt -of authority, but that I could not act otherwise. Then, at length, he -said he believed I could not; and, when he left me, told a friend (as he -very well might), that he took me to be really mad.†- -Besides cleaning boots, fetching and carrying, running errands and -performing other menial services of a like nature, the servitors jumped at -the opportunity of earning odd pence by writing out the impositions to -which their masters had been condemned by the Proctors. - - “For should grave Proctor chance to meet - A buck in boots along the street - He stops his course and with permission - Asking his name, sets imposition, - Which to get done, if he’s a ninny - He gives his barber half a guinea. - This useful go-between will share it - With servitor in college garret, - Who counts these labours sweet as honey - Which brings to purse some pocket money.â€[6] - -Other methods of pocket filling to which servitors had recourse were -mentioned by Dr Johnson, who, writing to Tom Warton concerning the delay -in a work on Spenser caused by the number of his correspondents and pupils -at Oxford, said: “Three hours a day stolen from sleep and amusement will -produce it. Let a servitor transcribe the quotations, and interleave them -with references to save time.†As, however, servitors were not admitted -within the sacred precincts of the Bodleian, transcription was necessarily -limited. This was a cause of great lamentation and outcry at the time from -the men, because they were compelled to do the work themselves, and from -the servitors because they were thus deprived of a means of earning a few -extra necessary pence. “Dr Hyde complains,†says Wordsworth in his book on -the eighteenth century, “that some in the university have been very -troublesome in pressing that their servitors may transcribe manuscripts -for them, though not capable of being sworn to the Library.†- -[Illustration: VIEW OF QUEEN’S COLLEGE.] - -For a commoner to be seen in public in the company of a servitor was a -“great disparagement.†Consequently, if a servitor was sufficiently -blessed to be able to call a commoner friend, he must needs visit him -secretly, or under cover of darkness. It is on record that Shenstone, who -was a commoner of Pembroke, visited Jago a servitor, a friend of his, in -strict private because of this popular prejudice. When Erasmus was at -Queen’s his servitor’s rooms were immediately above his own. The poor -wretch, besides being at his master’s beck and call, was very often the -slave of his master’s mistress--an employ of vast uneasiness and -discomfort. - -In the _Oxford Chronicle_ in 1859, in a series of articles entitled -“Oxford during the Last Century,†Aubrey describes Willis, the servitor of -Dr Iles, Canon of Christ Church, as studying in his blue livery cloak at -the lower end of the hall by the door, and assisting his master’s wife in -mixing drugs. - -As a parallel case to that of Whitefield, who was a drawer in the Bell -Inn, Gloucester, Hearne tells “of one Lyne, son of a clergyman, and -grandson of the Town Clerk of Oxford, who was drawer at the King’s Head -Tavern of that city, in 1735; his elder brother being Fellow of Emmanuel, -and his younger an eminent scholar of King’s.†- -It was no exaggeration to say that the servitors lived on the scraps from -the Undergraduates’ tables. The following quotation shows the grinding -penury against which they had to struggle: “Of the poverty of the class,†-wrote J. R. Green in his wonderful “Oxford Studies,†“no better instance -can be found than Samuel Wesley, the father of the Wesleys who were to -change the whole state of religion in England, and himself a very stirring -person, to whom we shall have occasion subsequently to allude. He was the -son of an ejected and starving non-conformist minister, and when at the -age of sixteen he walked to Oxford and entered himself as a servitor at -Exeter, his whole worldly wealth amounted to no more than £2, 16s. Yet -after supporting himself during his whole university career without any -aid from his friends, save a trivial 5s., he set off to London to make a -plunge into life with a capital increased to £10, 15s. Five shillings, -however, sneer as we may, seem to have been no uncommon ‘allowance’ to a -servitor of the time.â€[7] - -These poor servitors did not feel any touch of shame or degradation at -having to clean boots and perform all the other dirty work of the place. -Why should they? Their poverty at Oxford was in no way different from that -in which they lived previously to their arrival at Oxford. It was merely a -change in locality. For they came, as has been shown, from plough and -public-house. - -There are many instances to show to what great use some of them put the -education which they managed to acquire during their servitorship. Sir -John Birkenhead was a servitor at Oriel, and during that period of his -afterwards noteworthy career, his brother was a trooper. It was only -through the kindheartedness of a patron that Bishop Robinson became the -servitor of Sir James Astrey at Brasenose. He was afterwards appointed to -a Fellowship at Oriel, was sent as an envoy to Sweden, and became Bishop -both of Bristol and London. In the days of his fame he was able to repay -in some sort the kindness of his patron by granting his son a chaplaincy; -and his love for the university is shown by the scholarships which he -founded at Oriel. - -Can Ruskin Hall point proudly to a son who has achieved such fame as -either of these ex-servitors? - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper’s--Southey at Balliol--Cox’s six-oared crew--The - riverside barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes against - games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses and - badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights--Paniotti’s Fencing - Academy--Old-time “bug-shootersâ€--Skating in Christ Church - meadows--Cricket and the Bullingdon Club--Walking tours. - - -It would be impossible to live in Oxford and be healthy--except perhaps in -the summer term, if we are lucky enough to have any sun--without taking -exercise. It has long been a matter of wonder how those men keep fit who, -with the excuse of “having a heart†neither row, play soccer, rugger, -hockey, or any other of the strenuous games which keep the average -Undergraduate sound in wind and limb. As a matter of fact they don’t. For -the “heart-y†gentlemen almost invariably take as many week-ends out of -Oxford as possible, and in most cases retire comfortably and ingloriously -to the paternal establishment and maternal care long before term is over. -The others, the normal people, the devotees of bone and muscle, the -“muddied oafs and flannelled foolsâ€--(which is the only mistake Mr Kipling -ever made)--are never ill, at least from climatic effects. They may strain -something, or even break a few bones, but that cannot be put down to the -Oxford weather. The best doctors on earth, or rather the best -preventatives against illness--and there is a great difference--are the -river, the football and hunting fields, and the boxing ring, and as we -find these things to be true to-day so in old times, when wigs and ruffles -were somewhat of a handicap to the taking of hard exercise, these -remedies against the Oxford climate were adopted with almost the same -keenness. The word almost is used advisedly because the percentage of -“bloods†who did nothing strenuous was far larger, and the possibilities -in things sporting were not nearly so great. We have changed all that, and -can afford a smile of condescension when, seated on the alleviating -pontius in a “Rough†eight, with its simple-looking sliding seat, its -hair-thick outer shell and its wonderful travelling possibilities, we -think of the heavy gigs and six-oared boats into which our predecessors -“tumbled,†clad in catskin caps and leather trousers. - -Nevertheless the river was just as popular then though for quite different -reasons. There were no rowing Blues to be had in those days; no presidents -of boat clubs--no boat clubs even. There was only Dame Hooper’s--an -odd-looking, tumble-down, shed-like place, where the gownsmen blarneyed -the old lady and hired out skiffs, gigs, cutters, and canoes. Unlike our -togger men who, like strange hairy creatures from another planet, -hatlessly converge from all parts of the town through the Broad Walk to -the Barges, emitting yards of muscular leg for all the world to view in -amusement and admiration, the eighteenth-century wet-bobs went down to the -river in square--or, as they called it, trencher--and gown. But Dame -Hooper was old, unskittish, and trustworthy, and so they threw off their -academical garb in her shed and arrayed themselves in the trousers, -jackets, and caps which were then the thing. It might well be thought that -these were a great hindrance to correct ’varsity swinging. But they did -not worry their heads about that--there was no boat race to be taken into -agitated consideration--and it has been left for 1911 to pour out its -bleeding heart in vehement controversy anent the true ’varsity style as -opposed to the new fangled Belgian method. In those days the motto was air -and exercise. Now, dare it be said, the river is a business, a -profession, to which are consecrated all the waking moments, and many of -those which we should like to dedicate to bed, of our whole university -careers. - -Southey, who was, oddly enough, a Balliol man, said that he only learned -two things at Oxford--to swim and to row. After he went down he wrote the -following description of the river:-- - -“A number of pleasure boats were gliding in all directions upon this clear -and rapid stream; some with spread sails; in others the caps and tassels -of the students formed a curious contrast with their employment at the -oar. Many of the smaller boats had only a single person in each; and in -some of these he sat face forward, leaning back as in a chair, and plying -with both hands a double-bladed oar in alternate strokes, so that his -motion was like the path of a serpent. One of these canoes is, I am -assured, so exceedingly light, that a man can carry it; but few persons -are skilful or venturous enough to use it.â€[8] - -It would be well worth while to watch the face of one of these timid -canoers if we could bring him down to the barges to-day to one of the -“rag†regattas and show him scores of “venturous persons†who not only -dispense with paddles, but dash about in a Canadian canoe with a punt -pole. - -G. V. Cox told us that in 1790 there were no races, but that “men went to -Nuneham for occasional parties in six-oared boats (eight-oared boats were -then unknown), but these boats belonged to the boat people; the crew was a -mixed crew got up for the day, and the dresses worn anything but uniform. -I belonged to a crew of five, who were, I think, the first distinguished -by a peculiar (and what would now be thought a ridiculous) dress, viz., a -green leather cap, with a jacket and trousers of nankeen!â€[9] - -There are many recent boat club presidents who proudly show souvenirs of -love passages with every barmaid from Folly Bridge to Abingdon, and up the -Cher to Water Eaton. The fair damsels of the Cherwell Hotel are indeed the -sole reasons why hordes of Undergraduates punt out there to lunch on -Sundays, when they might just as easily, and far less expensively, take -luncheon baskets with them--as they do if their people are up! But there -is nothing original in all this. The same touch of old Adam existed in the -coffee-house period, as is shown by the following lines:-- - - “We visit Sandford next and there - Beckley provides accustomed fare - Of eels and perch and brown beef-steak.... - Whilst Hebe-like his daughter waits, - Froths our full bumpers, changes plates. - The pretty handmaid’s anxious toils - Meanwhile our mutual praise beguiles, - Whilst she, delighted, blushing sees - The bill o’erpaid and pockets fees - Supplied for ribbon or for lace - To deck her bonnet or her face.†- -To-day Hebe has become _blasé_ and cannot blush with any readiness, nor is -she so anxious in her toils. The chaste salute and the overpaid bill are -features of our own time, and will remain, from generation to generation, -as long as Oxford is a university, and there are hotels on the Cher. The -same poet goes on to describe the way in which he was taught to sail by a -friend who was already an expert. - - “At Folly Bridge we hoist the sail, - And briskly scud before the gale - To Iffley--where our course awhile - Detain--its locks and Saxon pile - Affording pause; to recommend - The Hobby-horse unto my friend. - Our light-built galley; ours I say - Since Warren bears an equal sway - In her command; as first, in cost - The half he shared; himself a host - Whether he plies the limber oar - Or tows the vessel from the shore; - Or strains the main sheet tight astern - Close to the wind; of him I learn - Patient to wait the time exact - When jib and foresail should be back’d - To bring her round; or mark the strain - The boat on gunwale can sustain - Without aught danger of upsetting, - Or giving both her mates a wetting.â€[10] - -[Illustration: NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON’S STUDY AT OXFORD.] - -A glance at the statutes shows that the river was almost the only form of -athletics then permissible, for the prohibited sports included “every kind -of game in which money is concerned, such as dibs, dice, cards, cricketing -in private grounds or gardens of the townspeople ... every kind of game or -exercise from which danger, injury, or inconvenience might arise to other -people, such as hunting of beasts with any sort of dogs, ferrets, nets or -toils, also any use or carrying of muskets, cross-bows, or falchions; -neither rope-dancers nor actors, nor shows of gladiators are to be -permitted without especial sanction; moreover, the scholars are not to -play at football, nor with cudgels, either among themselves or with the -townsfolk, a practice from which the most perilous contentions have -arisen.†- -During the earlier half of the century, bell ringing was a form of -amusement--and exercise--which was very largely indulged in. At any hour -of the day it was the custom to go up into the belfry and practice, with -such zest that the ringer sometimes fell from sheer exhaustion. Hearne was -known to take a keen interest in the matches which were sometimes -arranged between different peals of bells, while Antony Wood, some years -before, had joined with his mother and brothers in subscribing towards the -foundation of the Merton bells and, as Wordsworth says, “though they were -not satisfactory to the ‘curious and critical hearer,’ he plucked at them -often with some of his fellow-collegians for recreation sake.†Later on, -however, this practice was generally voted boring and even vulgar, and the -more “aristocratic door bell and knocker ringing†succeeded it. Hearne -himself was pleased to countenance bell-ringing, yet when a proposal was -afoot to found “an academy of exercise in the university such as riding -the great horse, fencing, etc.,†he would not hear of it or entertain the -idea for a moment. “I think,†said he, “’twould have utterly obstructed -all true learning.†- -Horses, in spite of Hearne, were popular among Dons and Undergraduates. -The “Female Student,†writing a letter to _The Student_, summed up the -tastes of a Master of Arts as consisting of “the college-hall, the -common-room, the coffee-house, and now and then a ride to the -Gog-magog-hills.†The now and then was probably accounted for by the -expensiveness attaching to the hobby. There were, however, several -stable-keepers at the time who, starting with a diminutive capital, -retired after a very few years in the business with large fortunes. G. V. -Cox, the member of the crew in nankeen trousers, says that it was quite a -usual thing “for a gentleman (the Oxford tradesman’s designation of a -member of the university) to ride a match against time to London and back -again to Oxford (108 miles) in twelve hours or less with, of course, -relays of horses at regular intervals. In one instance this was done in -eight hours and forty-five minutes.... Betting was, no doubt, the first -and chief motive; a foolish vanity the second; the third cause was the -absence at that time in the university of a better mode of proving pluck -and taming down the animal spirits of non-reading youngsters.... Hunting -then, as now, was an expensive amusement, only to be enjoyed by the few, -and by them only for a part of the year; racing had not then been thought -of ... but a gentleman need not learn to ride like a jockey.â€[11] - -Sir Erasmus Philipps must, therefore, have been a monied man, for in 1720, -when he was a Fellow-commoner of Pembroke, his outdoor sports took the -form of fox-hunting, attending cock-fights and horse-races, and riding to -Woodstock, Godstow, and Nuneham. Many of the horse-races took place on -Port Meadow. Terrae Filius, referring to “that famous apartment by idle -wits and buffoons nick-named Golgotha, _i.e._, the place of Sculls or -Heads of Colleges and Halls where they meet and debate upon all -extraordinary affairs which occur within the precincts of their -jurisdiction,†says that “this room of state or academical council chamber -is adorn’d with a fine pourtrait of her late Majesty Queen Anne, which was -presented to this assembly by a jolly fox-hunter in the neighbourhood, out -of the tender regard which he bore to her pious memory, and to the -reverend Sculls of the university, who preside there; for which -benefaction they have admitted him into their company, and allow him the -honour to smoak a pipe with them twice a week.†- -In one of the papers of _The Loiterer_ the writer described how Dr -Villars, Mr Sensitive, and himself went for a country walk and talk to Joe -Pullen’s Tree. “As soon as we had reached this elevated situation, and -cast our eyes over the well-known view, a general silence took place for -some minutes. It was indeed a day for meditation. The sun emerging by fits -and starts from the grey fleckered clouds which overspread the whole -atmosphere, illuminated the projecting points of Magdalen and Merton -Towers, and shot its lengthened gleams across the pastures and meads, -which extend themselves in a long level to the north of the city, while -the woody hills of Wytham, rising boldly from behind a flat country, threw -over the whole background a broad mass of dark shadows broken only here -and there by a white sail, whose almost imperceptible motion just marked -the various turns and windings of the river.... A large party of very -dashing men rode by, mounted on cropt ponies, and followed by no -inconsiderable number of Tarriers. Of all sorts, sizes, and colours; and -as they did not ride very fast, and talked rather loud, we easily -discovered that the object of this grand cavalcade had been a -badger-baiting on Bullingdon Green; in the event of which combat they -seemed greatly interested, and were settling the merits of their different -dogs with great clamour, and not without some altercation.†The solemn -statutes did not seem to worry those optimistic sportsmen overmuch on that -glorious summer day. - -Bull-baiting and cock-fighting, both, in their time, exceedingly popular -at the university were strongly put down by the authorities. One gathers -that it was usual at these affairs to start a free fight after the show, -in which the town and gown partisans did their best to kill or maim each -other for life. All things duly considered, therefore, it was, perhaps, a -wise step on the part of the Dons to forbid such affairs. Dr Rawlinson -made a regretful reference to one of these pitched battles: “A great -disturbance between the scholars of the university and the townsmen of -Heddington at a bull-baiting, at which some scholars were beaten.†-Considering the tender years of most of the freshmen it is a matter for -great congratulation that they made such good stands against the -bullet-headed townees. They could not have done so but for the fact that -boxing was much followed among ’varsity men. They were to a large extent -keen patrons of the noble art of self-defence, and the chief instructors -about the year 1729 were none other than the celebrated Broughton and -Figg, who ran a saloon in London. The fact that this boxing academy was -far away from Oxford did not preclude the keenest pugilists from -journeying up to take lessons. Amhurst came across a crowd of -Undergraduates in an Oxford coffee-house one night just after Mendoza had -won a famous victory, and he was vastly entertained to hear their keenly -excited discussion of every lead and stop and hook and counter and to see -them turning and twisting their bodies in pugilistic attitudes in -illustration of the professional manner of planting each separate blow. -They seemed to know as much about the fight as if they had been present. - -In December 1729 the Mayor of Oxford licensed a prize fight to be held in -the town. Crowds attended in the assurance of a good morning’s sport, but -at the last moment the Vice-Chancellor, a book-ridden, pompous, crusty old -curmudgeon, filled with the dignity of his office, appeared on the scene -and succeeded in putting a stop to it. It was a miracle that the assembled -multitude did not tear his robes off his back and put him in the ring to -stand up to one of the bruisers. - -In spite of Hearne’s prognostication that the establishment of a fencing -academy would be the death of all true learning, an academy was started -some years later by a Greek of the name of Paniotti. He was “full of -sentiments of honour and courage, and of most independent spirit.†R. L. -Edgeworth was a keen pupil of Paniotti, and it was at his school that he -became friends with Sir James M‘Donald, who was “one of the greatest -scholars and mathematicians of his time.†Their friendship was of short -duration, however, as Sir James died at Rome some five years later. - -Edgeworth has an interesting story about this fencing establishment. “Mr -L., a young gentleman of a noble family and of abilities, but of -overbearing manners, was our fellow pupil under Paniotti. At the same -school we met a young man of small fortune, and in a subordinate position -at Maudlin. - -“He fenced in a regular way, and much better than Mr L., who, in revenge, -would sometimes take a stiff foil that our master used for parrying, and -pretending to fence, would thrust it with great violence against his -antagonist. The young man submitted for some time to this foul play, but -at last he appealed to Paniotti, and to such of his pupils as were -present. Paniotti, though he had expectancies from the patronage of the -father of his nobly-born pupil, yet without hesitation condemned his -conduct. One day, in defiance of L.’s bullying pride, I proposed to fence -with him, armed as he was with this unbending foil, on condition that he -should not thrust at my face; but at the very first opportunity he drove -the foil into my mouth. I went to the door, broke off the buttons of two -foils, turned the key in the lock, and offered one of these extemporaneous -swords to my antagonist, who very prudently declined the invitation. This -person afterwards showed through life an unprincipled and cowardly -disposition.â€[12] - -While on the subject of fighting it is interesting to note that there were -such things as ’varsity “bug-shooters†even in those times, whose keenness -was far greater than that of the majority of the O.U.O.T.C., who slack -through just sufficient drills to enable them to put in a fortnight’s -camping in summer. G. V. Cox says that there were “enrolled about five -hundred, commanded by Mr Coker of Bicester, formerly Fellow of New -College. Such indeed was the zeal and spirit called forth in those -stirring times by the threat of invasion that even clerical members did -not hesitate to join the ranks.... Some also of the most respectable of -the college servants were enrolled with their masters.... The dress or -uniform was of a very heavy character but also very imposing: a blue coat -(rather short but somewhat more than a jacket) faced with white duck -pantaloons, with a black leathern strap or garter below the knee, and -short black cloth gaiters. The headdress was also heavy; a beaver -round-headed hat surmounted by a formidable roll of bear-skin or something -of the kind.â€[13] - -Several years after the above incident in Paniotti’s fencing school, an -article appeared in _The Student_. It was a fantastic account of “Several -Public Buildings in Oxford never before described†and contained the -following:-- - -“The several gymnasia constructed for the exercise of our youth, and a -relaxation from their severer studies, are not so much frequented as -formerly, especially in the summer; our ingenious gownsmen having found -out several sports which conduce to the same end, such as battle-door and -shuttle-cock, swinging on the rope, etc., in their apartments; or, in the -fields, leap-frog, tag, hop-step-and-jump, and among the rest, skittles; -which last is a truly academical exercise, as it is founded on -arithmetical and geometrical principles.†- -Skinner, the poet, who sailed his yacht down to Sandford and rowed in Dame -Hooper’s boats, seems to have been quite an all-round man. - - “If day prove only passing fair - I walk for exercise and air - Or for an hour skate, - For a large space of flooded ground - Which Christ Church gravel walks surround - Has solid froze of late. - - “Here graceful gownsmen silent glide, - Or noisy louts on hobnails slide, - Whilst lads the confines keep - Exacting pence from every one - As payment due for labour done - As constantly they sweep.†- -His touch of “side†is not unfunny--the graceful ’varsity man is a picture -of all culture, while the townee is a lout because he slides on vulgar -hobnails. On several of the bard’s sailing expeditions, after they had -dined chez Beckley, and duly tipped the girl, - - “A game of quoits will oft our stay - Awhile at Sandford Inn delay; - Or rustic nine-pins; then once more - We hoist our sail, and tug the oar.â€[14] - -He must doubtless have looked down upon his fellow quill driver in _The -Student_ as several parts of a fool for thinking rustic nine-pins “a truly -academical exercise, as it is founded on arithmetical and geometrical -principles.†- -Cricket and tennis were not of much account. The Lownger described his -going after dinner to tennis, returning in time for chapel - - “From the Coffee House then I to Tennis away, - And at six I post back to my college to pray,†- -while G. V. Cox, in his “Recollections,†remembered that “the game of -cricket was kept up chiefly by the young men from Winchester and Eton, and -was confined to the old Bullingdon Club, which was expensive and -exclusive. The members of it, however, with the exception of a few who -kept horses, did not mind walking to and fro.â€[15] - -As a rather less strenuous form of exercise than eighteenth-century -cricket many men kept themselves fit by walking. Wordsworth points out -that “in 1799 Daniel Wilson writes to his father, that very few days -passed when he did not walk for about an hour.†This exceedingly gentle -form of pedestrianism was only an end of century hobby. Earlier on men -seem to have been made of sterner stuff. The Greek Professor at Aberdeen, -Dr Thomas Blackwell, wrote to Warburton at Oxford in 1736 to beg him to -accompany Middleton and their common friend, Mr Gale, in a tour in -Scotland for two months in the summer during the long vacation. “In 1742 -Tho. Townson started for a three years’ tour in France, Italy, Germany, -and Holland, with Dawkins, Drake, and Holdsworth. On his return from the -continent,†the quotation is from Christopher Wordsworth, “he resumed in -College (Magdalen) the arduous and respectable employment of tuition, in -which he had been engaged before he went abroad. William Wordsworth took -walking tours in France 1790-91 (at a time no less awfully interesting -than that which the country has now been passing through) before and after -taking his degree.†In the first instance he was accompanied by his -college friend Robert Jones, with about twenty pounds apiece in their -pockets. “Our coats which we had made light on purpose for that journey -are of the same piece,†he wrote, “and our manner of carrying our bundles -which is upon our heads, with each an oak stick in our hands, contributes -not a little to the general curiosity which we seem to excite.†- -[Illustration: A DUCK HUNT.] - -Had they but carried more money and travelled in luxury they would not -have been unlike the present-day Rhodes men, whose custom it is during -vacation to scour the ends of the earth. - -Inter-college and inter-’varsity athletic meetings were undreamed of in -the eighteenth century. Because Georgian Oxford men could not boast -representative colours, however, is no proof that they were not sportsmen. -It would be impossible to find a set of men in any century more ready for -deeds of daring do. They rode straight and ate hearty. They broke rules -and defied statutes with a zest that suggests anarchism. In spite of wigs -and ruffles they sped like hares down back alleys and scaled the high -college walls like monkeys to avoid a conversation with the Proctors and -their bulldogs. They sallied forth in trencher and gown, the insignia of -their allegiance to _Alma mater_, and in sheer high spirits set themselves -to bring about a fight with the jeering townees. Back to back they fought -against all odds, recking little of bleeding noses and broken pates. If -they drank too freely and encouraged the toasts, the blame was not -entirely theirs. They did but follow the fashion of the times. Their -password was thoroughness. Whatever they did, they did with all their -might. If they rang bells, they made the air hideous until they fell -exhausted. If they collected knockers they stripped a whole street before -their energy waned. If they slacked they slacked superbly. Without any of -the advantages brought about by modern ideas and inventions, our -predecessors were sportsmen to the core and just as we to-day employ every -moment of our four years to the fullest advantage so did the men who trod -Oxford streets in wigs and laces when she was two centuries younger. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the “Lunaticsâ€--The Constitution - Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and minutes--High - Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers. - - -Year by year the places of those who go down are filled by succeeding -generations of public school men--men who are more conservative in ideas -than the members of any other class of society. Their immediate ambitions -are limited to achieving a Blue, capturing the presidency of the Union or -winning one of the big university prizes. - -They take things as they find them, and very rarely try to launch out on -new lines. They early discover that gregariousness is one of the chief -characteristics of an Oxford man. They find it exhibited in the -extraordinary number of clubs and societies in each college. Their natural -conservatism convinces them that as the forming of clubs is co-existent -with university life, they must not hesitate to follow the admirable -example of their seniors. With the untiring enthusiasm of youth they -concentrate their brains and energies therefore to the formation of new -clubs--having already become members of a great percentage of the -long-founded university clubs which are open to them. They make the -epoch-making discovery that many of their members have cut and dried ideas -on politics, and that others are big with new theories on social -conditions and the education of the masses. Heedless of the fact that in -reality these new theories and political arguments have been discussed and -thrashed out by thousands of Oxford men before they were born, they begin -in their obsession to institute new clubs--political, musical, literary, -debating, social, poetical--clubs of all kinds and conditions. They -cultivate gregariousness, if it is not already temperamental, as one of -the cardinal virtues. They foregather in each other’s rooms nightly, -consume tremendous quantities of tobacco, cake, and coffee, and abide -feverishly by every rule of the particular society of which they are the -founders. - -In the eighteenth century the men were just as fond of foregathering; but -they laboured under severe disadvantages in connection with the -authorities, who looked upon the formation of clubs and societies as -something new and consequently revolutionary and dangerous. As an instance -of the hide-bound conservatism of the moss-grown powers that were I cannot -do better than take the case of Dibdin and the “Lunatics,†a club which -was inaugurated at the very end of the eighteenth century. “Several -members of several colleges (in the number of whom I was as proud as happy -to be enlisted),†wrote Dibdin, “met frequently at each other’s rooms, to -talk over and to concoct a code of laws or of regulations for the -establishment of a society to be called a ‘Society for Scientific and -Literary Disquisition.’ It comprehended a debate and an essay, to be -prepared by each member in succession, studiously avoiding, in both, all -topics of religious and political controversy. There was not the slightest -attempt to beat down any one barrier of university law of regulation -throughout our whole code. We were to meet in a hired room, at a private -house, and were to indulge in our favourite themes in the most -unrestrained manner, without giving ingress to a single stranger. Over and -over again was each law revised, corrected, and endeavoured to be rendered -as little objectionable as possible. At length, after the final touches, -we demanded an interview with the Vice-Chancellors and Proctors; and our -founder, William George Maton, of Queen’s College, Messrs Stoddart, -Whitelock, Falconer (of Christ Church, Queen’s and Corpus Colleges) were -deputed to meet the great men in office, and to report accordingly. - -“Dr Wills was then Vice-Chancellor.... He received the deputation in the -most courteous manner, and requested that the laws might be left with him, -as much for his own particular and careful examination as for that of -other heads of houses or officers whom he might choose to consult. His -request was as readily complied with, and a day was appointed when the -answer of the oracle might be obtained. In about a week, according to -agreement, the same deputation was received within the library of the -Vice-Chancellor who, after solemnly returning the volume (containing the -laws) into the hands of our worthy founder, addressed them pretty nearly -in the following words: ‘Gentlemen, there does not appear to be anything -in these laws subversive of academic discipline, or contrary to the -statutes of the university--but (ah, that ill-omened But!) as it is -impossible to predict how they may operate, and as innovations of this -sort, and in these times, may have a tendency which may be as little -anticipated as it may be distressing to the framers of such laws, I am -compelled, in the exercise of my magisterial authority, as -Vice-Chancellor, to interdict your meeting in the manner proposed’â€--and -then one can see him ringing for the servant to show them out, with a -polite smile on his fat face, in the usual red-tape manner. As, however, -the deputation was prepared for something of this sort they merely retired -politely, breathing murders and slaughterings against the archaism of the -institution of Vice-Chancellor. Returning to their room, they came to the -conclusion that as they did not intend to be beaten “there was, -therefore, one result to adopt--one choice left; and that was, to carry -the object, so dear to our hearts, into effect within our private -apartments in rotation. There we might discuss, debate, and hear essays -read _ad infinitum_; and, accordingly, our first meeting took place in -Queen’s College, at the rooms of our founder, afterwards so long and so -well known in the medical world as Dr Maton.â€[16] - -After this preliminary check from the Vice-Chancellor, who, in charity be -it said, probably could not help himself, and was only doing his duty -according to his lights, the club throve like a bay tree and became -exceedingly famous. “Our society was quickly enlarged, and the present -Bishop of Llandaff, then a student of Corpus College, and the Rev. John -Horseman, afterwards a tutor in the same college, were enrolled members. -The two Moncrieffs of Baliol were also among our earlier acquisitions, and -some gentlemen commoners of Trinity College (whose name I have forgotten) -together with my oldest, and among my most valued friends, Mr Barwis of -Queen’s, Mr Gibson (afterwards called Riddell) of Worcester, and George -Foster of Lincoln--all united to give strength and respectability to our -association. Our meetings were frequent and full. The essays after having -been read, were entered in a book; and I am not sure whether, at this very -day, such book be not in existence. The subjects of debate usually were, -as of old they ever had been, whether the merits or demerits of such a -character (Cæsar or Queen Elizabeth, for instance) were the greater? Or -whether the good or evil of such a measure in legislation or in politics, -the more predominent. Of our speakers, the elder Moncrieff, and George -Forster of Lincoln were doubtless the most fluent and effective; -especially the latter, who had a fervency of utterance which was at times -surprising. But the younger Moncrieff, in course of time, followed his -brother, _passibus aequis_. Taking the art of speaking and the composition -of an essay together, I think Mr (now Sir John) Stoddart of Christ Church -beat us all. He was always upon his legs, a fearless opponent, and in the -use of a pen the most unpremeditating and successful.... - -“Meanwhile the fame of our club, or society, began to be noised abroad; -and those who felt no inclination to write essays, or to impose upon -themselves the toil of reading and research for the purpose of making a -speech, were pretty free in using sneering epithets, and in stigmatising -by nicknames. There was, however, _one_ nickname which we instantly and -courageously took to ourselves and adopted--and that was the ‘Lunatics.’ -Mad, indeed we were, and desired so to be called--if an occasional -deviation from dull and hard drinking, frivolous gossip, and Boeotian -uproar, could justify that appellation.†- -Undoubtedly the origin of present-day first year societies, which, unlike -the “Lunatics,†are nearly always ephemeral affairs, may be found in the -recollections of Richard Graves, in which, referring to William Shenstone, -he says, “Our more familiar acquaintance commenced by an invitation from -Mr Shenstone to breakfast at his chambers, which we accepted; and which, -according to the sociable disposition of most young people, was protracted -to a late hour; during which, Mr Shenstone, I remember, in order to detain -us, produced Cotton’s ‘Virgil Travestie,’ which he had lately met with; -and which, though full of indelicacies and low humour, is certainly a most -laughable performance. I displayed my slender stock of critical knewledge -by applauding, as a work of equal humour, Echard’s ‘Causes of the Contempt -of the Clergy.’ Mr Whistler, who was a year or two older than either of -us, I believe, and had finished his school education at Eton, preferred -Pope’s ‘Rape of the Lock,’ as a higher species of humour than anything we -had produced. In short, this morning’s lounge, which seemed mutually -agreeable, was succeeded by frequent repetitions of them; and at length, -by our meeting likewise, almost every evening, at each other’s chambers -the whole summer, where we read plays and poetry, _Spectators_ and -_Tatlers_, and other works of easy digestion, and sipped Florence -wine.â€[17] - -There were many famous clubs in the eighteenth century, each of which had -an individuality of its own. Just as the “Lunatics†was literary and -debating, the Constitution Club was political and aggressive, the Oxford -Poetical Club considered itself really poetical, and the High Borlace was -purely social and jovial. - -The Constitution Club had its headquarters at the King’s Head Tavern in -the High. Its members “included five fellows, a chaplain and four -gentlemen commoners of New College, one gentleman commoner and seven -others of Oriel, three of Christ Church; Hart Hall, Worcester, All Souls, -Merton, St John’s, Trinity, and Wadham contributed at least one member -each--usually a gentleman commoner.â€[18] The motives of its institution -were, according to Amhurst, as follows: “The society took its rise from -the iniquity of the times, and was intended to promote and cultivate -friendship between all such persons as favour’d our present happy -constitution; they thought themselves obliged openly and publickly to avow -their loyalty, and manifest their sincere affection to King George upon -all proper and becoming occasions, and to check, as much as in them lay, -the vast torrent of treason and dissaffection which overflow’d the -university. They thought it their duty to show all possible marks of -respect to those faithful officers, who were so seasonably sent to that -place, by the favour of the government, to protect the quiet part of -the king’s subjects, and to suppress the tumultuary practices of the -profess’d enemies to his majesty’s person and government; and for -constantly adhering to what they thought their duty in those points; and -for no other cause, that they can apprehend, they have been so unfortunate -as to become obnoxious to the university, and to feel, many of them, the -severe effects of their resentments.†- -[Illustration: A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE.] - -How much truth there is in this account of the lofty aims and patriotic -ambitions of this club, and whether Amhurst was one of the St John’s men -who were members, and consequently had his facts first hand, or whether it -is merely an account written round one or two of the club’s actions, it is -impossible to ascertain. At any rate Amhurst seems to have dropped his -sarcasm, and to have written straightforwardly and sincerely on their -behalf. So that it is only fair to conclude that they had these objects, -more or less, in view. In proof of his statements Christopher Wordsworth -tells us that “on the king’s birthday, the 28th of May aforesaid, the -whole body of the Constitution Club met together at a tavern and ordered -the windows of the house to be illuminated, and some faggots to be -prepared for a bonfire. But before the bonfire could be lighted, a very -numerous mob, which was hired for that purpose, tore to pieces the -faggots, and then assaulted the room where the club was sitting, with -brickbats and stones. All the time that the mob was thus employed, the -disaffected scholars, who had crowded the houses and streets near the -tavern, continued throwing up their caps and scattering money amongst the -rabble and shouting, ‘Down with the Constitutioners; down with the Whigs; -no George; James for ever; Ormond, Bolingbroke,’ etc.... The -Constitutioners thought it prudent to make the best of their way to their -colleges for the night. On the Sunday the club met again at Oriel, and -were the objects of the indignation of the mob, who thronged the streets -at six o’clock. A Brasenose man was wounded by a gunshot fired by one of -the Constitutioners, or their friends in Oriel, after which the crowd -retired to pull down the conventicles.†(This account of the affair is -given as being less biassed than Amhurst’s, which, in substance, is -identical, but does not tally in one or two details.) - -The fat was consequently sizzling noisily in the fire. The whole place -discussed nothing else for days. Prosecutions were hourly made in the -Vice-Chancellor’s court. The grand jury of Oxfordshire made a -“presentment†in no ordered terms against the Constitutioners, who also -met with “unjust and scandalous usage†in St Mary’s, Golgotha, the -Theatre, Convocation House, and the Schools, which all rang with -“invectives and anathemas against them.... Even those grave tools, the -Vice-Chancellor and Proctors, to enliven their dull harangues, and gain -the applause of the subordinate rabble, never fail’d, in their most solemn -speeches before the convocation, to fall foul and heavy on the -Constitution Club.†The noise of the affair reached as far as the ears of -the King himself, and “rattling letters†were sent to the Vice-Chancellor. - -The Oxford Poetical Club was very famous in 1721. To obtain any accurate -idea of its constitution and objects it is necessary to strike the happy -mean between the accounts of it which are given by Amhurst and Erasmus -Philipps. The latter recorded in his diary that on 17th August of that -year he “went with Mr Tristram to the Poetical Club (whereof he is a -member) at the Tuns, kept by Mr Broadgate, where met Dr Evans, Fellow of -St John’s, and Mr Jno. Jones, Fellow of Balliol, members of the club. -Subscribed 5s. to Dr Evans’s ‘Hymen and Juno’ (which one merrily call’d -Evans’s Bubble, it being now South Sea Time). Drank Galicia wine, and was -entertained with two Fables of the Doctor’s composition, which were indeed -masterly in their kind; but the Doctor is allowed to have a peculiar -knack, and to excell all mankind at a Fable.â€[19] - -Amhurst, by no means a respecter of persons, devoted two papers to -ridiculing the poetry club, from which I cull the following: “Divers -eminent and most ingenious gentlemen, true lovers and judges of poetry, -having with great grief observ’d that noble art declining in Oxford (its -antient seat and fountain) resolv’d, if possible, to restore it to its -pristine vigour and glory. They justly apprehended, both from reason and -experience, that a critical lecture, once a term, though never so -judicious, was not sufficient; and that the theory of any art was -defective without the practice; and, therefore, they thought the best -method to forward this design would be to institute a weekly meeting of -the finest geniuses and _beaux esprits_ of the university, at a certain -place, to be appointed by them, where they might debate the cause of -poetry, and put its laws into regular execution. This proposal was -immediately assented to; and the next question was, where to meet? - -“This occasioned a short debate, some speaking in favour of the King’s -Head, and some declaring for the Crown; but they were both opposed by -others, who presum’d that the Three Tuns would suit them much better; in -which they carry’d their point, and the Three Tuns was thereupon nominated -the place of meeting, upon these two proviso’s, that Mr Broadgate would -keep good wine and a pretty wench at the bar; both which are by all -criticks allow’d to be of indispensable use in poetical operations.†- -The alleged cause of this picturesque enumeration of imaginary details -was that several poems had appeared at that time in the newspapers with -the public sanction of the club. Terrae Filius immediately began to puzzle -his brain as to the membership of the club and its intentions. For a time -he admitted himself entirely baffled, but at last “chance, almighty -chance,†prospered his wishes. As the result of his enquiries he -discovered the rules of the society to be:-- - -“1. That no person be admitted a member of this society, without Letters -Testimonial, to be sign’d by three persons of credit, that he has -distinguished himself in some tale, catch, sonnet, epigram, madrigal, -anagram, acrostick, tragedy, comedy, farce, or epick poem. - -“2. That no person be admitted a member of this society, who has any -visible way of living, or can spend five shillings per annum _de proprio_; -it being an established maxim, that no rich man can be a good poet. - -“3. That no member presume to discover the secrets of this society to any -body whatsoever, upon pain of expulsion. - -“4. That no member in any of his lucubrations do transgress the rules of -Aristotle, or any other sound critick, antient or modern, under pain of -having his said lucubrations burnt, in a full club, by the hands of the -small-beer drawer. - -“5. That no member do presume in any of his writings, to reflect on the -Church of England, as by law established, or either of the two famous -universities, or upon any magistrate or member of the same under pain of -having his said writings burnt as aforesaid and being himself expell’d. - -“6. That no tobacco be smoked in this society; the fumigation thereof -being supposed to cloud the poetical faculty, and to clog the subtle -wheels of the Imagination. - -“7. That no member do repeat any verses, without leave first had and -obtained from Mr President. - -“8. That no person be allowed above the space of one hour at a time to -repeat. - -“9. That no person do print any of his verses, without the approbation of -the major part of the society, under pain of expulsion. - -“10. That every member do subscribe his name to the foregoing articles.†- -These rules, before finally settled upon, had been fully discussed. A -member, by name Dr Crassus, took strong objection to the smoking rule -because he was covered with a superfluity of adipose tissue, and held that -the use of tobacco “would carry off those noxious heavy particles which -turn the edge of his fancy, and obstruct his intellectual perspiration.†-He was backed up by a medical friend, and the result was that a special -exception was made in his sole favour. A second gentleman said that he -could not declare with a “safe conscience†that he was unable to spend -five shillings per annum _de proprio_; but the President ably settled the -point by observing that “as God is the sole author and disposer of all -Things, we cannot in strict sense, call any thing our own; nor say that we -have any visible way of living, our daily bread being the only bounty of -His invisible hand, and therefore you may, _salvâ conscientiâ_, declare -that you have no visible way of living; and that you cannot spend five -shillings per annum _de proprio_, though according to vain human -computation, you are worth five thousand pounds a year.†The final -objection raised, before the rules were at last suitably framed and hung -over the mantelpiece in the club-room, was that one of the gentlemen could -not subscribe to Rule 10. He could not write, and therefore could not -comply with the strict letter of the law. If, however, he could be allowed -to make his mark, the whole difficulty could be settled out of hand. This -was agreed to without hesitation, “it being truly no uncommon Thing in -many an excellent poet.†- -Not content with thus pouring ridicule upon their foundation and -institution, Amhurst, in his subsequent paper in which he described their -first meeting absolutely surpassed himself at their expense. - - MINUTES OF THE OXFORD POETICAL CLUB. - - “The members being met, and Mr President having assum’d the chair, - three preliminary bumpers pass’d round the board; after which Dr - Crassus, in pursuance of the power granted him, as mentioned in our - last, retir’d to a snug corner of the room where a little table was - placed for him, with pipes and tobacco upon it; then the doctor - handled his Arms; and as he was glazing his pipe with a Ball of - superfine wax, which he always carried in his pocket for that use, he - alarm’d the room with a sudden peal of laughter, which drew the eyes - of the assembly towards him, and made all of them very solicitous to - know the conceit which occasioned it; but the doctor was not, for - several minutes, able to do it, the fit continuing upon him, and - growing louder and louder; at last, when it began to intermit, he made - a shift to reveal the cause of his mirth thus:-- - - “‘Why, gentlemen,’ said he,--‘ha! ha! ha!--why, gentlemen, I say the - prettiest Epigram! ha! ha! ha! I cannot tell you for my life--I have - made, I say, upon this ball of wax here, ha! ha! ha!--that you ever - heard in your lives. Shall I repeat it, Mr President?’ - - “‘By all means, doctor,’ said he; ‘no body more proper to open the - assembly than Doctor Crassus!’ - - “Then the doctor compos’d his countenance, and standing up, with the - ball of wax in his right hand, pronounc’d the following distich with - an heroick emphasis. - - “‘This wax, d’ye see, with which my pipe I glaze, - Is the best wax I ever us’d in all my days.’ - - “‘Ha! ha! ha! How d’ye like it, gentlemen ha! ha! ha! Is it not very - pretty gentlemen?’ - - “‘Very pretty, without flattery, doctor,’ said they all; ‘very - excellent, indeed.’ - - “Upon which the doctor smiled pleasantly, and lighted his pipe.... - During the first part of the night their thoughts were something - gloomy and run upon elegies and epitaphs upon living as well as dead - men; but you will find them brighten up as the night advance and the - bottles increase. They begin with satire and funeral lamentation; but - end with love, smuttiness and a songâ€--and there I will leave them. - -The High Borlace was a Tory club which, says Christopher Wordsworth, “had -a convivial meeting held annually at the King’s Head Tavern in Oxford, on -the 18th of August (or, if that fell on a Sunday, on the 19th, as in -1734), on which occasion Dr Leigh, Master of Balliol, was of the High -Borlace and the first clergyman who had attended. It seems to have been -patronised by the county families, and it is not improbable that there was -a ball connected with it. The members chose a Lady Patroness: in 1732 Miss -Stonhouse; 1733, Miss Molly Wickham of Garsington; 1734 Miss Anne Cope, -daughter of Sir Jonathan Cope of Bruern.†- -In the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ in the year 1765 there was the following -reference: “Monday Aug. 19, was held at the Angel inn, at Oxford, the High -Borlase, when Lady Harriott Somerset was chosen Lady Patroness for the -year ensuing.†- -Of other smaller clubs there were the Freecynics in 1737, which Dr -Rawlinson describes as “a kind of Philosophical Club who have a set of -symbolical words and grimaces, unintelligible to any but those of their -own society,†and the Nonsense Club, founded by George Coleman, Bonnel -Thornton and Lloyd about 1750. The latter would seem from its name to be a -revival of the earlier Banterers existing almost a century before, who are -described by Wood as “a set of scholars so-called, some M.A., who make it -their employment to talk at a venture, lye, and prate what nonsense they -please, if they see a man talk seriously they talk floridly nonsense, and -care not what he says; this is like throwing a cushion at a man’s head -that pretends to be grave and wise.†Although Coleman assisted to found -the Nonsense Club he makes no reference to it in his reminiscences, so it -is more than probable that it was merely the whim of a term or so. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen--The - “Vindicationâ€--Opposing and responding--“Schemesâ€--Doing - austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents--Magdalen collections. - - -Nowadays work is a factor in university life which has to be seriously -reckoned with. However strong one’s intentions to do none, however -convinced one may be of the complete absurdity and futility of cramming -dull stuff for no apparent good reasons, when there is such a glorious -time to be had doing nothing in the mornings and “sweating†at athletics -in the afternoons, yet the Dons have of late acquired a foolish habit of -sending a man down unless he succeeds in scraping through certain -examinations. - -They feel it to be essential, through some misguided feeling of duty, to -harry the athlete and outdoor man, and at certain periods, even, to hound -him in white tie, and as much gown as he can lay hands on, to the schools, -and if, on his final exit from their clutches, they are not satisfied with -the results of his cramming, they invert their thumbs and down he goes! It -matters not whether he be merely a humble eightsman or the all-important -President of the Boat Club. The examiners are no respecters of persons, -and fear no man nor beast. The athlete retires willy nilly. - -How different were the Dons’ views in Georgian times! Amhurst, serious for -once, declared that the keynote of the century was tolerated ignorance. He -made the statement boldly in the face of the high reputation of the Dons -for learning and classical knowledge, in defiance of the wrath of the -entire university. He was justified in making such an assertion, and I -have tried to prove the truth of his words in the course of this chapter. - -“A gentleman commoner,†he said, “if he be a man of fortune, is soon told -that it is not expected from one of his form to mind exercises; if he is -studious, he is morose, and a heavy bookish fellow; if he keeps a cellar -of wine, the good natur’d fellows will indulge him, tho’ he should be too -heavy-headed to be at chapel in the morning.†- -In proof of this assertion I will take the case, from a sheaf of others, -of Mr Harris, afterwards Lord Malmesbury, who was an Undergraduate of -Merton in 1763. “The discipline of the university happened also at this -particular moment to be so lax,†he wrote, “that a gentleman -commonerâ€--and it would seem not to be of great moment whether he had -riches or not--“was under no restraint, and never called upon to attend -either lectures, or chapel, or hall. My tutor, an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practise of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to be taught trigonometry. The set of men with whom -I lived were very pleasant but very idle fellows. Our life was an -imitation of high life in London.†The entire lack of compulsion to work, -however, did not by any means cause Harris and his friends to dwindle into -mere “wasters.†From that little coterie eventually emerged Charles Fox -and William Eden. - -Gibbon, the historian of world-wide renown, never did one stroke of work -while at Magdalen, nor was he ever asked, with any firmness, to do so. In -his much discussed reminiscences he set down that “some duties may -possibly have been imposed on the poor scholars, whose ambition aspired to -the peaceful honours of a scholarship; but no independent members were -admitted below the rank of gentleman commoner, and our velvet cap was the -cap of liberty.†Commenting upon the prevailing slackness of tutors, -Gibbon quoted his own experiences. The learned doctor to whose care he was -first confided, described as “one of the best of the tribe,†had suggested -that Gibbon should read the comedies of Terence every morning with him. -“During the first weeks,†wrote Gibbon, “I constantly attended these -lessons in my tutor’s rooms; but as they appeared equally devoid of profit -and pleasure, I was once tempted to try the experiment of a formal -apology. The apology was accepted with a smile. I repeated the offence -with less ceremony; the excuse was admitted with the same indulgence; the -slightest motive of laziness or indisposition, the most trifling avocation -at home or abroad, was allowed as a worthy impediment; nor did my tutor -appear conscious of my absence or neglect.... No plan of study was -recommended for my use; no exercises were prescribed for his inspection; -and at that most precious season of youth, whole days and weeks were -suffered to elapse, without labour or amusement, without advice or -account.â€[20] - -Such was the sum total of Gibbon’s relations with that worthy and -excellent man, for, the following term, he found on his arrival, that he -had departed from the college and that another tutor was installed in his -place. Of his connection with this second tutor the Magdalen man wrote as -follows: “Instead of guiding the studies, and watching over the behaviour -of his disciple, I was never summoned to attend even the ceremony of a -lecture; and, excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms, during the eight -months of his titular office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same -college as strangers to each other.†These accusations against the -Magdalen discipline have been most heatedly “vindicated†by the Rev. -James Hurdis, who declared it to have been more Gibbon’s fault than the -Dons’ that he was not looked after, because he gave flippant excuses which -he dubbed formal apologies, and had not the patience to continue the -course of lectures arranged and delivered by his tutors. - -These vindicatory arguments do not hold water. All men will evade -authority if they can. Therefore it is surely the place of the tutor to -put his foot down and issue orders instead of letting his pupil wander at -will and do no work. - -In all the many descriptions of a day in the life of a Smart, or an -ordinary gentleman commoner, or the river man, no references are to be -found as to their doing any work. On the contrary, Skinner said that -“Aristotle has been deserted for the bottle,†and launched into -descriptions of the empty schools. With tutors who considered politics and -consequent individual preferment of far greater importance than the mere -conning of pupils’ work, it is not to be wondered at that the only men who -did any work were those who were “bookish†by nature and preferred a quiet -studious life to one of revelry and slacking. For the most part these -worked independently of Dons, entirely of their own volition. As far as a -good degree went, it was utterly useless; for the method of passing -university examinations was, to put it mildly, a farce. The veracity of -Vicesimus Knox is not for one moment to be questioned, so that the -following account may be taken as a fair example of the customs of the -times. - -“The youth, whose heart pants for the honour of a Bachelor of Arts degree, -must wait patiently till near four years have revolved. But this time is -not to be spent idly. No; he is obliged, during this period, once to -oppose, and once to respond, in disputations held in the public schools--a -formidable sound and a dreadful idea; but, on closer attention, the fear -will vanish, and contempt supply its place. This opposing and responding -is termed, in the cant of the place, _doing generals_. Two boys, or men, -as they call themselves, agree to do generals together. The first step in -this mighty work is to procure arguments. These are always handed down, -from generation to generation, on long slips of paper, and consist of -foolish syllogisms on foolish subjects; of the formation or the -signification of which the respondent and opponent seldom know more than -an infant in swaddling clothes. The next step is to go for a _liceat_ to -one of the petty officers, called the Regent Master of the Schools, who -subscribes his name to the questions and receives sixpence as his fee. -When the important day arrives, the two doughty disputants go into a large -dusty room, full of dirt and cobwebs, with walls and wainscot decorated -with the names of former disputants, who to divert the tedious hours cut -out their names with their penknives, or wrote verses with a pencil. Here -they sit in mean desks, opposite to each other, from one o’clock till -three. Not once in a hundred times does any officer enter; and, if he -does, he hears one syllogism or two, and then makes a bow, and departs, as -he came and remained, in solemn silence. The disputants then return to the -amusement of cutting the desks, carving their names, or reading Sterne’s -‘Sentimental Journey,’ or some other edifying novel. When this exercise is -duly performed by both parties, they have a right to the title and -insignia of Sophs; but not before they have been formally created by one -of the regent-masters.... This work done, a great progress is made towards -the wished-for honour of a Bachelor’s degree. There remain only one or two -trifling forms, and another disputation, almost exactly similar to doing -generals, but called _answering under bachelor_, previous to the awful -examination. Every candidate is obliged to be examined in the whole -circle of the sciences by three Masters of Arts _of his own choice_. The -examination is to be held in one of the public schools, and to continue -from nine o’clock till eleven. The masters take a most solemn oath, that -they will examine properly and impartially. Dreadful as all this appears, -there is always found to be more of appearance in it than reality, for the -greatest dunce usually gets his _testimonium_ signed with as much ease and -credit as the finest genius. The manner of proceeding is as follows: The -poor young man to be examined in the sciences often knows no more of them -than his bedmaker, and the masters who examine are sometimes equally -unacquainted with such mysteries. But _schemes_, as they are called, or -little books, containing forty or fifty questions on each science, are -handed down, from age to age, from one to another. The candidate to be -examined employs three or four days in learning these by heart, and the -examiners, having done the same before him when they were examined, know -what questions to ask, and so all goes on smoothly. When the candidate has -displayed his universal knowledge of the sciences, he is to display his -skill in philology. One of the masters, therefore, desires him to construe -a passage in some Greek or Latin classic, which he does with no -interruption, just as he pleases, and as well as he can. The statutes next -require that he should translate familiar English phrases into Latin. And -now is the time when the masters show their wit and jocularity. Droll -questions are put on any subject, and the puzzled candidate furnishes -diversion by his awkward embarrassment. I have known the questions on this -occasion to consist of an enquiry into the pedigree of a race-horse.... -This familiarity, however, only takes place when the examiners are pot -companions of the candidate, which indeed is usually the case; for it is -reckoned good management to get acquainted with two or three jolly young -Masters of Arts and supply them well with port, previously to the -examination. If the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors happen to enter the -school, a very uncommon event, then a little solemnity is put on, very -much to the confusion of the masters, as well as of the boy, who is -sitting in the little box opposite them. As neither the officer, nor any -one else usually enters the room (for it is reckoned very _ungenteel_) the -examiners and the candidates often converse on the last drinking bout, or -on horses, or read the newspaper, or a novel, or divert themselves as well -as they can in any manner till the clock strikes eleven, when all parties -descend, and the _testimonium_, is signed by the masters. With this -_testimonium_ in his possession the candidate is sure of success. The day -in which the honour is to be conferred arrives; he appears in the -Convocation House, he takes an abundance of oaths, pays a sum of money in -fees, and, after kneeling down before the Vice-Chancellor, and whispering -a lie, rises up a Bachelor of Arts.â€[21] - -In order, therefore, to obtain the coveted privilege of going in for all -these learned and difficult examinations, an Undergraduate had to calm his -impatience and enjoy himself as best he could for four years. Then, having -succeeded in getting himself fairly comfortably in debt, having learned -how to string off a sonnet to the reigning toast and drink himself under -the table, he was esteemed ripe for the whispering of a lie, and was -conveniently fitted out with a degree. What more simple? - -“And now, if he aspires at higher honours (and what emulous spirit can sit -down without aspiring at them?) new labours and new difficulties are to be -encountered during the space of three years. He must _determine_ in Lent, -he must _do quodlibets_, he must _do austens_, he must declaim twice, he -must read six solemn lectures, and he must be again examined in the -sciences, before he can be promoted to the degree of Master of Arts. None -but the initiated can know what _determining_, doing _quodlibets_, and -doing _austens_ mean. I have not room to enter into a minute description -of such contemptible minutiæ. Let it be sufficient to say, that these -exercises consist of disputations of syllogisms, procured and uttered -nearly in the same places, time, and manner, as we have already seen them -in doing generals. There is, however, a great deal of trouble in little -formalities, such as procuring sixpenny _liceats_, sticking up the names -on the walls, sitting in large empty rooms by yourself, or with some poor -wight as ill-employed as yourself, without anything to say or do, wearing -hoods and a little piece of lambskin wool on it, and a variety of other -particulars too tedious and too trifling to enumerate.†- -The eighteenth-century lad became an Undergraduate on condition of -subscribing to a lie, and was sent down as a not undistinguished man after -seven years by pronouncing another in the ear of the Vice-Chancellor. - -“As university degrees are supposed to be badges of learning and merit, -there ought to be some qualifications requisite to wear them, besides -perjury, and treason, and paying a multitude of fees, which seem to be the -three principal things insisted upon in our universities,†said Terrae -Filius--and the persistent joker spoke never a truer word. While -discussing the same question with some bitterness he asserted that a -schoolboy has done more learned things for his breaking-up task than were -required of an Oxford man after seven years’ residence. He more than bore -out Knox’s words as to the custom of making one’s examiner drunk and so -avoiding the irksome necessity of being asked awkward questions by him. -“It is also well known,†he wrote, “to be the custom for the candidates -either to present their examiners with a piece of gold, or to give them an -handsome entertainment, and make them drunk; which they commonly do the -night before examination, and sometimes keep them till morning, and so -adjourn, cheek by joul, from their drinking-room to the school where they -are to be examined. _Quaere_, whether it would not be very ungrateful of -the examiner to refuse any candidate a _testimonium_ who has treated him -so splendidly over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail’d -upon by bribes?†- -So that in addition to making him drunk and incapable, but not -disorderly--necessarily--the astute candidate, realising that the degree’s -the thing, paid him a metaphorical thirty pieces of silver for his -betrayal. Moreover, the collectors, that is to say the Dons who were in -control of the determining, decided the days upon which the candidates -were to present themselves. On certain days called “gracious†days, the -examiners were only required to stay in the schools for half the usual -time. The consequence was, explained Terrae, “The collectors having it in -their power to dispose of all the schools and days in what manner they -please, are very considerable persons, and great application is made to -them for gracious days and good schools; but especially to avoid being -posted or dogg’d, which commonly happens to be their lot who have no money -in their pockets.†- -The statues of course forbade collectors to receive presents, but a wink -is as good as a nod, and it was customary for every determiner upon -presenting himself to give the collector a “broad or half a broad.†In -return for this douceur “Mr Collector,†said Amhurst, “entertains his -benefactors with a good supper and as much wine as they can drink, besides -gracious days and commodious schools. I have heard that some collectors -have made four score or an hundred guineas of this place.†- -The conclusion which is inevitably arrived at is that the examinations -for, and in fact the whole question of obtaining a degree, were a farce -and a sham, and that the authorities cared little who got one so long as -they received their fees and were left in peace to smoke and tope in the -common rooms. - -The attendance at college exercises seems to have been equally dilatory. -Gibbon said that the Magdalen College exercises were futile and a waste of -time. He was tacitly allowed to stay away from them. The vindicator of -Magdalen, thinking to nail Gibbon down, went to the trouble of enumerating -term by term the exercises which the Undergraduates were supposed to -perform. As interesting reading it is worthy of quotation, but as a _coup -de grace_ to Gibbon it is absurd. If all Magdalen men were bound to -attend, why was Gibbon allowed to absent himself, or, if not allowed, why -was he not hauled over the coals?--and it is ridiculous to suppose that -Gibbon’s example was not followed by scores of fellow collegians. The -present-day “colleckers,†held terminally, are, more or less, in the -nature of a joke, but in those days, in spite of Hurdis’s burning loyalty -to Magdalen, the following exercises which correspond to them are -fearsome-sounding enough, but were more often than not unattended. “At the -end of every term, from his admission till he takes his first degree, -every individual Undergraduate of this college must appear at a _public -examination_ before the President, Vice-President, Deans, and whatever -Fellows may please to attend; and cannot obtain leave to return to his -friends in any vacation, till he has properly acquitted himself according -to the following scheme. - -“In his _first_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - “In the first term, in _Sallust_ and the _Characters of Theophrastus_. - - “In the second Term, in the first six books of Virgil’s _Aeneis_ and - the first three books of Xenophon’s _Anabasis_. - - “In the third Term, in the last six books of the _Aeneis_ and the last - four books of the _Anabasis_. - - “In the fourth Term, in the Gospels of St Matthew and St Mark, on - which sacred books the persons examined are always called upon to - produce a collection of observations from the best commentators. - -[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN.] - -“During his _second_ year, the Undergraduate must make himself a -proficient-- - - “In the first Term, in Cæsar’s _Commentaries_, and the first six books - of Homer’s _Iliad_. - - “In the second Term, in _Cicero de Oratore_, and the second six books - of the _Iliad_. - - “In the third Term, in _Cicero de Officiis_ and the _Dion Hal. de - structura Orationis_. - - “In the fourth Term, in the gospels of St Luke and St John, producing - a collection of observations from commentators as at the end of the - first year. - -“During his _third_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - “In the first Term, in the first six books of Livy and Xenophon’s - _Cyropaedia_. - - “In the second Term, in Xenophon’s _Memorabilia_, and in Horace’s - Epistles and Art of Poetry. - - “In the third Term, in _Cicero de natura Deorum_, and in the first, - third, eighth, tenth, thirteenth and fourteenth of Juvenal’s - _Satires_. - - “In the fourth Term, in the first four epistles of St Paul, producing - collections as before. - -“During his _fourth_ and last year he must make himself a proficient-- - - “In the first Term, in the first six books of the ‘Annals of Tacitus,’ - and in the _Electra_ of Sophocles. - - “In the second Term, in Cicero’s ‘Orations’ against Catilina, and in - those of Ligarius and Archias; and also in those Orations of - Demosthenes which are contained in Mounteney’s edition. - - “In the third Term, in the ‘Dialogues’ of Plato published by Dr - Forster, and in the _Georgics_ of Virgil. - - “In the fourth Term, in the remaining ten Epistles of St Paul and the - Epistles general, producing collections as before.†- -The above is undoubtedly a little programme guaranteed to keep the average -Undergraduate fairly busy in the use of midnight oil. But--how odd it is -that there is ever a “butâ€--the excited vindicator rather spoilt matters -and lessened the terrors of the programme by stating in his preliminary -paragraph that only those Dons were present “who may please to attend!†-Having digested already some few facts concerning the habits and hobbies -of the eighteenth-century Don, as well as the liberty accorded to -gentlemen commoners, there is no need to waste sympathy on “every -individual Undergraduate†of Magdalen. He merely lowered the right eyelid, -tapped the left nostril with the left index digit and “obtained leave to -return to his friends in any Vacation,†with the greatest ease and speed -and the most cordial of farewells to the President, Vice-President, Deans, -and any of the Fellows who cared to attend. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -’VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson’s _Oxford Journal_--Domestic - intelligence--Election poems--Curious advertisements--Superabundance - of St John’s editors--Terrae Filius. - - -There is some indefinable element in the atmosphere of Oxford which has -always excited an itch for writing. The sister university can, of course, -point to many sons whose names stand high in the literary firmament, but -they do not amount to a tithe of the number of great writers who have -passed through Oxford. Oxford may be the home of lost causes, but she is -also the cradle for infant pens. Generations of pens splutter their first -incoherencies behind the comparative shelter of the city walls through -which the harsh criticism of maturer writers cannot penetrate. In stilted -phraseology and doubtful grammar they cover numberless sheets with -emotional outpourings. There may be future literary geniuses hidden among -them, but from those early imitative strivings it is difficult to single -out even one. They are novices who humbly apprentice themselves to the -profession of letters. From time to time some quite brilliant piece of -work throws up more vividly the amateurishness of the rest. Such meteoric -flashes are, however, rare, and thus the general standard does not rise -above mediocrity. It is because all Undergraduate pens are very young and -inexperienced that the present-day ’varsity papers can make no claim to -literary distinction. To their credit be it said that they do not. They -are content to remain just ’varsity papers--which is synonymous with -saying that they are either tediously over-academic or peculiarly inane; -that their light articles are excellent imitations of the halfpenny comic -papers, that their serious efforts are most praiseworthy for their -capacity for inflicting boredom, and that their editorials border upon the -inept. - -It is not an unknown thing for a present-day Undergraduate paper, which is -supposedly conducted _by_ Undergraduates _for_ Undergraduates to be owned -and financed by a local tradesman. He, being thus in supreme command, -maintains a private blue pencil, and, obsessed by the idea that because he -sells pens and inks he is therefore a man of parts and literary -consideration, rules the poor devil of an Undergraduate editor with a rod -of iron. What is the result? It is that the average ’varsity paper is -composed of childish leaders edited by the financier; a series of vastly -foolish and unentertaining remarks which may or may not have been heard in -the Broad; pages of notes which are half-frightened comments on the week’s -doings written invariably by critics who have not sufficient pluck to say -that they consider the person or thing under criticism to be either -thoroughly bad or supremely excellent; a mawkish account of the speeches -delivered in the Union Society’s Debates, written with the condescending -patronage of the old stager, by some self-satisfied ex-official, himself a -thoroughly bad speaker and so totally unqualified to criticise; a -collection of dramatic criticisms of the bi-weekly pieces at the New -Theatre, scribbled by some musical comedy enthusiast who, in addition to a -total ignorance of the drama, has been warned by the financier of the -paper to say nice things however bad the play or the acting in order to -secure free seats from the theatre; and, lastly, a fulsome and -objectionably personal article which purports to be a biography of a -well-known Oxford man. - -Perhaps under these Gilbertian conditions it is no wonder that the -literary efforts of Georgian times put those of the present to shame. In -the eighteenth century university journals were at least independent. They -looked for no pecuniary assistance from local ironmongers or haberdashers. -The consequence is that although the contributors were beginners whose -efforts were the result of the itch for writing brought on by that -indefinable element which was in the atmosphere of Oxford then as now, -their work was unhampered by any outside considerations. The literary -standard was not of the highest order. How could it be when the writers -were lads varying from eighteen to twenty years of age? It was, however, -higher than that of to-day. On turning over the various ’varsity papers of -two centuries ago, an uncomfortable sensation of that most unusual -emotion--humility--inevitably results, because there is undoubtedly found -in them much that is witty, fearless, original, vivid, and entertaining. - -In those days the editor drew up a scheme for running his paper, and -adhered to it in defiance of Don and man. Now, however, in his frantic -efforts to keep life in his moribund sheet, the editor does not see that -his copy is good and worth printing, copy guaranteed to sell largely. That -is not the idea. The only way to secure financial soundness is, he finds, -to pander to the advertisers by the shifty method of writing puffs for -cigarettes, soaps, wines, and so on, in a column which bears a disguised -and misleading heading, and which is an insult to the intelligence of his -youngest reader. - -In analysing the university journals of the eighteenth century I will -begin with the year 1753, when the inhabitants of Oxford and the -surrounding counties were enlivened by Jackson’s _Oxford Journal_. As to -its make-up the editor announced that, “This paper will be more complete -than any that has hitherto appeared in this Part of the Kingdom. For -besides the Articles of News, Foreign and Domestic, in which we shall -endeavour to surpass every other Paper, our Situation will enable us to -oblige our readers with a particular account of every Transaction relating -to the present Opposition in Oxfordshire, as also with a Variety of -curious Pieces in Prose and Verse, on both sides of the Question; which no -other Paper can procure.†Having made this declaration of his _modus -operandi_ Jackson adhered to it rigidly and fully. His columns of foreign -news were stocked with items of note and interest. Foreign politics, wars, -rumours of wars, agricultural depressions or rises were all included, and -came from the uttermost parts of the earth. The domestic intelligence -covered the movements of the King and royal family, meetings of celebrated -London societies, and chatty descriptions of assaults and batteries. In -one issue there was a sporting account of how “a young man ran from Queen -Street, Cheapside, to Hornsey Wood, and back again, in one Hour and four -minutes.†The next paragraph related that “the same Morning was found -drowned in the River, William Andrew, a Master Taylor in Spital Fields. -His watch and Money, with two Rings on his Finger, were found upon him.†-This little tragedy was immediately followed by an incident of comedy -which occurred in the London streets. - -“Between Five and Six o’clock on Sunday Evening an uncommon Scheme was put -in Execution by a Gang of Pickpockets in St James’s Park. A Person very -well dressed fixing himself with great Attention, as tho’ he saw something -particular in the Air, occasioned a Number of People to enquire the Reason -and join in the Speculation, when he asserted he saw a very bright Star; -and while he was busy in pointing out the Constellation to the Spectators -several of them lost their handkerchiefs, but the Star gazer got off.†- -Jackson’s news columns were every bit as full in comparison as the London -papers to-day. With politics, too, he dealt very fully. In a short and -pithy editorial, however, he assured his readers that his own political -views did not count--he was merely running the paper. This, odd as it may -seem, was sound diplomatic policy, because in those days, with -ever-changing party feeling, it was a mere matter of five minutes to issue -an injunction, stop the press, and confiscate the whole plant. Devoted as -he was to political interest Jackson printed many of the promised “curious -Pieces of Prose and Verse.†- - “RECEIPT TO MAKE A VOTE. - - “_By the cook of Sir J. D----d._ - - “Take a Cottager of Thirty shillings a Year, tax Him at Forty; Swear - at Him; Bully Him; take your business from Him; Give Him your business - again; make Him drunk; Shake Him by the Hand; Kiss his Wife, and he is - an Honest Fellow. - - “_N.B._--The above Cook will make Affidavit before any Justice of the - Peace, that this Receipt has been try’d on the Body of Billy S---- and - several others in the Neighbourhood of K--rtle--n, and never failed of - Success.†- -The other political contribution took the form of an election song, the -sort of thing that the Undergraduates of those times would seize upon and -parade the streets of the university, chanting right lustily in gangs. - - “ADVICE TO FREEHOLDERS. - - “Ye honest Freeholders, bestir all your stumps; - For all now depends upon who turns up Trumps. - Be sure that you chuse - Neither Placemen nor Jews. - Nor such as are likely their trust to abuse. - To the devil you’re sold if the Conj’rer prevails; - If Israel’s Black Seed, beware of your Tails. - - _Chorus._ - - “Alas! that poor Britons should lose for their Sins - Their Liberties, Properties and their Fore-Skins.†- -In addition to such contributions in prose and verse, the columns of the -Journal were open to any keen correspondent who cared to air either his -views or his grievances--an opportunity of which the fullest advantage was -taken. In every issue urgent appeals and exhortations to voters and -freeholders appeared over various names. The advertisement columns, such -as they were, contained frequent announcements of the publication of -political pamphlets addressed to the “Gentlemen, Clergy, and Freeholders -of the country of Oxford.†These columns contained also the most curious -hotch-potch of unexpected posts and requests, such as: - - “TO BE DRUNK FOR BY CANDLE, - - “AT WILL’S COFFEE-HOUSE, IN OXFORD, ON WEDNESDAY NEXT, - - “A LIVING, - - “Worth near _Thirty Pounds_ per Annum, besides Surplice fees and other - emoluments. None but True Blue Parsons to drink for it. Three - Gentlemen with White Wigs and Red Faces are already entered. - - “_N.B._--Very soon will be ate for at the same place, a tollerable - _Curacy_, by those who never get a Dinner but of a Sunday. Codd and - Oyster Sauce will be the Subject for this trial. Mr B--lst--ne is - excepted against in both Cases as he will spoil Sport.†- -Another frequently-appearing notice was an advertisement of a booklet of -advice to new-married persons, or the art of having beautiful children. -This was surrounded by bills of races, cock fights, arrivals of new -dancing masters, who addressed themselves to the nobility and gentry in -and about Oxford, quack medicines and ointments which were a never-failing -remedy for the itch, announced “by the King’s authority. _N.B._--One box -is sufficient to cure a grown person, and divided, is a cure for two -children.†- -For the rest it was the receptacle for articles of every nature from all -and sundry. Warton left his antiquarian researches to afford himself a -little relaxation by writing for it a version of Gray’s _Elegy_ up to -date, or an appreciation of Ben Tyrell’s mutton pies. From the various -coffee-houses Jackson received the wonderful effusions of the Bucks of the -first head, sonnets to Sylvia’s eyelashes, poems in praise of Oxford ale, -and even an occasional Latin verse. “Old Lochard, the newsman,†says J. R. -Green in his delightful Oxford chapters, “who, bell in hand, hawked the -Journal through the streets, owed to his college patrons not only the -antiquated cane and rusty grizzle wig, which they had thrown by after ten -years’ service of the tankard at buttery hatch, in return for quick -despatches; but the merry rhymes that every Christmas drew a douceur from -the tradesman, a slice of sirloin and a cup of October from the squire, or -a dram from Mother Baggs.â€[22] - -In the Journal’s own war paean:-- - - “Each vast event our varied page supplies, - The fall of princes or the rise of pies; - Patriots and squires learn here with little cost - Or when a kingdom or a match is lost; - Both sexes here approved receipts peruse, - Hence belles may clean their teeth or beaux their shoes, - From us informed Britannia’s farmers tell - How Louisburgh by British thunders fell; - ’Tis we that sound to all the Trump of Fame, - And babes lisp Amherst’s and Boscawen’s name. - All the four quarters of the globe conspire - Our news to fill, and raise your glory higher.†- -Throughout almost the entire eighteenth century the editorial chairs of -the different periodicals seem to have been filled for the most part by St -John’s men. Terrae Filius appeared first in 1721 under the guidance of -Nicholas Amhurst of St John’s. In 1789 _The Loiterers_, a literary weekly, -was launched before the public by James Austen of St John’s. His brother, -H. T. Austen of the same college, materially assisted him by contributing -a number of delightful imaginative articles. This paper was filially -dedicated by the editor to the President and Fellows of his college, and -ran successfully for two years. The present-day members have done their -best to maintain the literary traditions of this college, for that nine -days’ wonder, the _Tuesday Review_, was edited and run by two rash men of -St John’s. - -Amhurst took it upon himself to fill the post of cat-o’-nine-tails to the -University, and in his “secret history†lashed at everybody and thing that -was not to his liking, or that seemed to him to constitute in any way an -abuse. He discovered for himself, in all their abundance, the manifold -troubles of an editor, but was not to be coerced or cajoled into anything -that he did not consider fit and proper. - -“In a work of this nature,†he wrote in the preface to the second edition -of Terrae Filius, “it is very hard to please any, and impossible to please -all. The different tempers and tastes of men cannot relish the same style -or manner of writing any more than the same dish or the same diversion: -fops love romances; pedants love jargon; the splenatic man delights in -satire; and the gay courtier in panegyric; some are pleased with poetry; -others with prose; some are for plain truths, and some for disguise and -dissimulation. I was aware of this when I began, and, in my second paper, -reserved to myself a liberty to be in what humour I pleased, and to vary -my manner as well as my subject, hoping thereby to please most sorts of -readers; but I quickly found myself disappointed in my expectations, -having often received, by the same post, complaints from some of my -correspondents, that I was too grave for the character of Terrae Filius; -and from others, that I affected levity too much for one who styled -himself a reformer. In answer to both of the objections I shall beg my -readers to consider that as, on one hand, it ought not to be expected that -a man should keep his face upon the broad grin for half a year together; -so, on the other, I cannot apprehend that it is at all necessary for a -reformer to be a puritan, always in the dumps, and always holding forth -with a dismal face and a canting tone:-- - - “‘... ridiculum acri - Fortis et melius magnas plerumque secat res.’ - -“... I can see nothing in it to repent of, but the want of sufficient -abilities to treat a subject of such general importance in the manner -which it deserves. But I hope the reader will excuse some imperfections, -when he considers the nature of my stunted education, that I was allow’d -to continue but three years at Oxford, and was not twenty-four years of -age when I compleated this undertaking.†- -In self-explanation Terrae Filius started off his campaign with sundry -paragraphs calculated to make the authorities uneasy as to their own -future safety, and to cause Undergraduates to champion him against them at -all hazards. - -“It has, till of late,†he explained, “been a custom, from time -immemorial, for one of our family to mount the rostrum at Oxford at -certain seasons, and divert an innumerable crowd of spectators, who -flock’d thither to hear him from all parts, with a merry oration in the -fescenine manner, interspersed with secret history, raillery, and sarcasm, -as the occasions at the times supply’d him with matter. If a venerable -head of a college was caught snug a bed with his neighbour’s wife; or -shaking his elbows on a Sunday morning; or flattering a prime minister for -a bishopric; or coaxing his bedmaker’s girl out of her maidenhead; the -hoary old sinner might expect to hear of it from our lay-pulpit the next -Act. Or if a celebrated toast and a young student were seen together at -midnight under a shady myrtle tree, billing like two turtle doves, to him -it belonged, being a poet as well as an orator, to tell the tender story -in a melancholy ditty, adapted to pastoral music.†- -Claiming to follow the precedents established by his old-time -predecessors, Terrae Filius set about showing up the scandalous old Heads, -disguised in thinly-veiled names. As a consequence he was many times -prohibited by Vice-Chancellors and preached down, and cordially loathed -and execrated by all the college Heads and Fellows of his time, whom he -attacked either directly or indirectly. - -“Why should a poor Undergraduate,†he asked, “be called an idle rascal, -and a good-for-nothing blockhead, for being perhaps but twice at chapel in -one day; or for coming into college at ten or eleven o’clock at night; or -for a thousand other greater trifles than these; whilst the grey-headed -doctors may indulge themselves in what debaucheries and corruptions they -please, with impunity, and without censure? Methinks it could not do any -great hurt to the universities if the old fellows were to be jobed at -least once in four or five years for their irregularities, as the young -ones are everyday, if they offend.†- -Abuses of such a nature are long dead, and a Terrae Filius to-day would -rapidly die of starvation by reason of the lack of matter. Then, however, -he not only lived, but waxed fat on the news he ferreted out--rather in -the manner of a leech applied to a festering sore. Advertisements to him -meant nothing. They were unsought, and would have been refused if -offered. He was _pro bono publico_, ever ready with advice, satire, -criticism, explanation, and always humour. His pen was untiring in writing -a subject up or down, according to its merits or demerits. Political, -religious, academic, and social abuses were thrown on to the screen -fearlessly. His paternal advice to freshmen, although written in a vein of -biting irony, was, nevertheless exactly suited to the times, and, if -followed unswervingly, must assuredly have been of vast assistance in -coping with the wily, time-serving sculls and beer-swilling tutors. His -advice as to their morale was penned with his tongue in his cheek; but in -substance it was none the less straight and praiseworthy. His political -views were consistent and very strenuous, and the opposition received a -royal scourging from his stinging and lengthy lashes. His contempt for -Smarts was only exceeded by his scorn for drink-soddened, incapable -Fellows, and the scandalous manner in which they neglected the statutes -and allowed everything to run to seed. His boldness in choice of subjects -was unparalleled, the outspoken manner of setting them forth absolutely -inimitable. The results achieved by his work must have been considerable, -though to a large extent unperceived publicly, because a new leaf turned -frankly and openly would have been an avowal of guilt on the part of the -persons concerned. The proof that he was largely read lies in the fact -that he was preached about in no measured terms in public pulpits, -prohibited by various authorities, roasted by aggrieved parties in -coffee-and ale-houses, and, in fact, was a household word on every one’s -tongue. - -A lengthy disquisition upon the way in which the truth was mangled, -disguised, covered up, and turned about by priests, statesmen, and every -“old libertine in authority†was followed by the ensuing declaration:-- - -“I, Terrae Filius, a free-thinker, and a free-speaker, highly incensed -against all knavery and imposture, and not thinking _Truth_ such a -terrible enemy to religion and good order, as it has been represented, do -hereby declare war against all cheats and deluders, however dignified, or -wheresoever residing; the fear of obloquy and ill-usage shall not deter me -from this undertaking, nor shall any considerations rob me of the liberty -of my own thoughts and my own tongue. In the pursuit of this design, I -shall not confine myself to any particular method; but shall be grave and -whimsical, serious or ludicrous, prosaical or poetical, philosophical or -satirical, argue or tell stories, weep over my subject, or laugh over it, -be in humour or out of humour, according to whatever passion is uppermost -in my breast whilst I am writing.†- -In token of this promise there stands the truth on every page, however -bedded in satire, philosophy, poetry, or ridicule. He saw to it that his -daily path was studded with nails, and in his passage he hit them each one -on the head. As a result the pages of Terrae Filius are from cover to -cover a source of immense joy. For an example of bold and delightful -satire I cannot find a better instance than the _ne plus ultra_ in skits -on the Poetical Club. Of course he gave the president and learned -professors who composed it fictitious names, but it is palpable that those -caricatured recognised themselves, and, if they had the least grain of -humour in their compositions, they must have enjoyed it thoroughly. As, -however, the question of their possessing a sense of humour is open to -grave doubts--a fact proved by the very formation of the club and the -secrecy of its doings--it is infinitely more likely that the club writhed -under his well-pointed jibes and consigned the author to eternal -perdition. Then, too, the bland and smiling manner in which he turned -aside the violent pulpit denunciations of his hard-hit victims is -exhilarating to a degree. He received, for instance, a letter from an -anonymous friend (hidden behind the title “John Spyâ€) who sent him an -account of the heated charges laid at his door by a certain grave college -Head. Terrae printed the letter and smilingly pointed out the reasons of -the man’s wrath in a tone of charming tolerance. - -“You see, reader,†he said, “that I had no sooner undertaken this task but -I raised a nest of holy wasps and hornets about my ears; an huge old -drone, grown to an excessive bulk upon the spoils of many years, has -thought fit, you see, to call me terrible names before his learned -audience, at St Mary’s Church in Oxford; it is, it seems, an hellish -attempt to bring about a reformation of the universities; and it is daring -and impious in me to style myself a free-thinker and a free-speaker: poor -man! poor man! What! art afraid I should tell tales out of school, how a -certain fat doctor got his bedmaker with child, and play’d several other -unlucky pranks? That would be daring and impious indeed. No, no, never -fret thyself, man; I love a pretty woman myself, and I never desire any -better usage in this world than as I do unto others to be done unto -myself.†- -Turning to politics, Terrae Filius summed up the attitude of the -authorities in Oxford in one short paragraph--which was made a hundred -times more severe by his assertion upon honour that religion received the -same treatment at their hands. - -“In politics my advice is the same as in religion--not to let your upstart -reason domineer over you, and say you must obey this king or that king; or -you must be of this party, or that party; instead of that, follow your -leaders; observe the cue, which they give you; speak as they speak; act as -they act; drink as they drink, and swear as they swear; comply with -everything which they comply with; and discover no scruples which they do -not discover.†- -Upon a Whig and a Tory enquiring what was their exact position, he told -them that one day the Whig might be safe and have things all his own way, -but that the next the certainty of the Tory’s being uppermost was -absolute. Finally he urged upon them that the only safe method of -proceeding was to employ what are called nowadays the Winston tactics--one -side one day, the other the next, according to one’s greater individual -advantage. - -He dealt exhaustively with the peculiarly slack method of conducting, or -rather the practical non-existence of, university examinations. On reading -his account alone, it would very naturally be supposed that he was drawing -the long bow, caricaturing the existing conditions out of all shape and -possibility of recognition, and we laugh unreservedly. But further study -of other writers’ criticisms of the times very quickly turns our smile -into a gasp of amazement. Terrae Filius was not caricaturing. All his -absurd and quite impossible relations of bribery and corruption were true. -It is precisely the same with all his papers. He has wisely written them -in the style of caricatures, and at times, no doubt, has indulged his -humour overmuch; but, on going into his inimitable showings up of drinking -and immoral Dons, political conflicts, university statutes, toasts, -smarts, or any one of the innumerable subjects dissected by him, and then -comparing his work with other eighteenth-century documents, one finds that -Terrae Filius carried out his boast and kept to the truth. - -Is there any man to-day who, at the age of twenty-four, has achieved such -notoriety, done such brilliant work, and proved himself to be such a -master of his craft? - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -’VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The Student--Cambridge included--Its design--The female student--Poem - by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury’s letter--The manly woman. - - -On the first day of January, 1750, there appeared the first number of _The -Student_. The sub-title read: _The Oxford Monthly Miscellany_. For two -years it ran successfully, and, at the beginning of the second, it was -found that Cambridge took such an interest in its doings that the -sub-title was enlarged. It then read: _The Oxford and Cambridge Monthly -Miscellany_. In make-up it differed entirely from Terrae Filius, and -contended to be a far more serious and high-minded journal, aiming not so -much to amuse as to teach its readers. Thus it contained Latin prose and -verse, religious discussions, essays, medical dissertations, and a -carefully selected variety of lighter matter in English prose and verse. -The tone of the work may be gathered from the sedate foreword to the -public. - -“In the course of this work particular care will be taken that nothing be -inserted indecent or immoral, and as we are determined to give umbrage to -no Person or Party, all political disputes and whatever is offensive to -Good Manners will of consequence be avoided. Our design being only to -promote learning in general, we shall not confine ourselves to any -particular subject, but occasionally comprehend all the branches of polite -literature. Each number will consist of such originals in Prose and Verse -as we hope will prove agreeable to our readers. And tho’ we might with -impunity comply with the common practice of preying indiscriminately on -the labours of others, yet we shall not to our knowledge publish any thing -that has been printed before, or without the consent of the respective -authors: for the one we consider as a fraud upon the publick, and the -other an invasion of private property. These considerations we presume -will remove any prejudice which the Learned may conceive against our -undertaking, and induce them not only to encourage, but assist us in the -prosecution of it. And as we must necessarily depend on the publick for -the Success of our work, we hope it will meet with their indulgence. No -endeavours on our part shall be wanting to render it worthy their -approbation; and we no longer desire their favour, than while we continue -to deserve it.†- -In the first number there were some five or six pages of Latin verse, a -translation of the chorus at the end of the second act of _Hecuba of -Euripides_, an elegy in imitation of Tibullus, an article on “Intellectual -Pleasureâ€--the author of which was requested, in an editorial note, to -favour the paper with his further reflections--the speech of John Fell, -D.D., Bishop of Oxford, at his Triennial Visitation in the year 1685, an -article entitled “Leaning of no Party,†and one or two lighter imaginative -contributions, such as “The Speech of an Old Oak to an Extravagant Young -Heir as He was going to be Cut Down,†and an “Address to an Elbow Chair -Lately New Cloath’d.†As there were no advertisements to assist the -editors with the printing bills, it speaks well for the literary taste of -the period that the paper lived two full years--the period to which the -editors limited themselves at the outset. Such a periodical at Oxford in -the year of grace 1911 would prove to be a hopeless anachronism. It would -arrive at a circulation of three copies per month--a free copy to the -British Museum, another to the Bodleian, and the third to the editor’s -mother. The Undergraduates might finger it casually on the bookshop -counter, and the Dons read the first number on account of its novelty, but -it would die a speedy death unless by the second issue the editor -announced its coalition with the comic paper whose editor runs his -motor-car on the earnings of butcher and express messenger boys. - -One of the lighter features of _The Student_ was a series of letters from -Cambridge written by the female student. Her epistles were full of humour, -and she poked fun at the Undergraduates quietly, and in a manner not -wholly unlike Terrae Filius. Perhaps it is unfair to compare her efforts -to those of Amhurst, because as he jested and quipped in every conceivable -style and way, any one coming after him might be accused, quite unjustly, -of plagiarism. That the female student was not guilty of any false modesty -is easily to be seen from the account of herself in her preliminary -letter; while the care with which the editors of _The Student_ guarded the -decencies and the moralities ensured that she did not in any way cause a -breach in them by her broad-minded and outspoken contributions. She began -by claiming the student as a brother, a claim based upon her birth, -education, and the whole conduct of her life. She asserted that she, too, -was a student, having sounded the depths of philosophy and made greater -progress “in academical erudition†than most of the Dons whose profound -knowledge consisted in a “little cap with a short tuft and a large pompous -grizzle wig.†She was born and brought up in Cambridge in the care of an -aunt. Her studies were directed by a grave Fellow of a college. Her aunt -was so fond of her that she was suffered to “give a loose to her passion -for literature,†and the girl absorbed information from curling papers and -the lids of wig-boxes. When she was seventeen her tutor died of a surfeit -occasioned by feeding too freely at a gaudy, and the secret at last came -out that there had been a union between the Don and the aunt for nearly -twenty years. The aunt became, therefore, a mother, and she produced -documents to show that the Don’s possessions were hers. The result of the -selling of the deceased’s effects did not raise the good woman to a -condition of luxury. - -“However,†said the girl, “she resolved to continue at Cambridge on my -account, and we lived together in a manner much genteeler than our fortune -would afford. My person (which, by-the-bye, I took as much pains to -cultivate as my mind) now began to be cried up as much as my parts. I was -a charming, clever, sweet, smart, witty, pretty creature, in short, I was -as much feared for my wit as ador’d for my beauty. From hence I had vanity -to fancy I could have anybody I pleased, and had therefore resolved within -myself to be run away with by a nobleman, or a baronet at least.†- -But this witty, pretty creature unfortunately over-estimated her -possibilities. The next ten years passed in a round of gaiety which took -the form of courtship by no one under the rank of gentleman commoner. With -the baronet in view, however, such mere mortals fell in their hundreds. -Some she rejected “because a better might offer, some because they had too -much sense; others because they had too little; this was too old, that too -young,†and, in consequence, she was gradually deserted, as her physical -charms waned, until at last her name was never mentioned “without the -odious reproach of ‘she has been’ added to it.†- -At the moment of writing this first letter she was compelled to work for -her bread and the support of her mother. This she did with her pen, -turning out poems and novels; being, as she informed _The Student_, at -present engaged in “composing sermons for a bookseller, which he designs -to sell for the MS. Sermons of an eminent divine lately deceased, -warranted originals.†- -_The Student_, liking the tone of her first letter, encouraged her to -write further, and from time to time she sent in various articles, such as -a scathing criticism of Academical Gallantry, in which she roundly chaffed -all gownsmen for their bragging propensities and gallant follies, and gave -an account of the various Dons and their habits who had laid vain siege to -her heart, and a discussion on the sin of living single, and the fustiness -of old maids--a plight in which she admitted herself to be, though not by -“desire or inclination.†- -In spite of the editorial desire to give umbrage to no person or party, -certain of the Bucks seem to have considered her an unamusing, brazen -creature, whose inclusion in _The Student_ was a sad mistake, for she -received the following crushing letter from one of their number. - - “---- Coll., Oxford, _June 11, 1751_. - - “MADAM,--As the character I bear in this University is that of a - profess’d critic-general on pamphlets, and as my opinion is look’d - upon as infallible and oracular in a certain coffee-house frequented - by Wits, where a subscription is carried on for raking together the - dulness of the age, I think I may take the liberty (without being - styled Prig, Fop, Witling, or Poetaster) of transmitting you my full - and candid sentiments on your monthly productions. And first, Madam - Student, with as much laconic politeness as possible, I beg leave to - inform you that you pretend to that choice ingredient of good writing - Humour, without having one syllable of it. In a word, Madam, if you - have any Humour at all, it is that low species of it, never so much as - heard of in Greece and Rome, originally invented by Tom Brown of - blackguard memory, and now first revived by the Female Student. - - “This species (if it may call itself a species), I, myself, in right - of the sublime critical character with which the sensible Men of our - house have invested me, have christen’d Jack-Pudding Humour. To define - it were utterly impracticable. However, thus much may be said of it, - that it is made up of ill-breeding and ill-nature, and discovers a - remarkable want of classical reading, and a relish for authors of true - taste. It treats of subjects of a vague nature, and is (beside its - Jack-pudding affinity) of a mere Jack-lanthorn nature, neither here - nor there; in short, it is a topsy-turvy, rhapsodic, miscellaneous - method of writing. But, to come to the point. What I would recommend - to you is to leave off scribbling, and sit down seriously to sewing. - - “Why, Madam, you are nothing more than a bankrupt in beauty, a mere - discarded toast! I assure you, Mrs Student, you have no more chance of - getting reputation by your pen than you had of getting a husband by - your person.--Yours, - - “FRANK FIZZ-PUFF.†- -Whether this letter really caused the good lady to take up sewing in -earnest it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that she was no more -seen in _The Student_--not even to the extent of an indignant feminine -outburst against Mr Fizz-Puff. - -Among the “never before†printed verses which the editor secured for his -columns were some written by Sir Walter Raleigh at Winchester in 1603, as -he lay under sentence of death. They were printed from a manuscript with -due care to preserve the spelling exactly as it was. The editor, however, -was in ignorance of the fact that they had already been published in 1608 -in the second edition of Davison’s _Poetical Rhapsody_. - - “Goe, soul, the bodyes gueste, - Upon a thankless arrante, - Fear not to touche the beste, - The truth shall be thy warrante. - Goe, since I needs must dye, - And give them all the lye. - - “Goe, tell the court it glowse, - And shines like painted woode; - Goe, tell the church it shows - What’s good, but does no good. - If court and church replye - Give court and church the lye.†- -The moribund knight pursued his muse to the thirteenth verse, giving -everybody and everything the lie. The editor of _The Student_, undoubtedly -with the idea of pandering to all tastes, was careful to place these -verses in between a translation of a Latin epigram-- - - “I stole from sweet Gumming two kisses in play, - But she from myself stole myself quite away; - I grieve not I play’d, tho’ so cruel the sport; - I’m more pleas’d than griev’d at the hurt.†- -and an epistle in verse to Lord Cobham, written by Congrave, while in the -very near neighbourhood, was-- - - “THE HERMAPHRODITE. - - “_From the Latin_ - - “My mother, when she was with child of me, - Consulted heav’n what gender I should be. - Female, cried Mars; Apollo said, a Male; - Neither, quoth Juno; both your judgments fail. - My birth did prove the Goddess in the right; - Nor boy, nor girl, but an Hermaphrodite. - Again she ask’d them what my fate would be. - One said a sword, another said a tree; - Water a third, and they were right all three. - For from a tree I fell upon my sword, - Feet caught in boughs, head dangling in a ford. - Man, Woman, Neither, I at last was found, - Just as the Gods foretold, hang’d, stabb’d, and drown’d.†- -A few numbers before that in which the coffee-house wit told the female -student just precisely what he thought of her, the editor received a -letter from another of these gentry at one of the coffee-houses. On behalf -of all his brother Smarts, Mr Harry Didapper took it upon himself to offer -a little friendly advice to the paper. He informed the editor that _The -Student_ was read with keen interest by them all, but that at times it -indulged in boring and pompous articles which, however they pleased the -editor himself, or the cultivated taste of his wig-maker, hosier and wine -merchant, left them angry and disappointed. The Smarts wished to have no -more abstract speculations and religious introspections. They wanted more -brightness and humanity about the paper. Consequently in the next issue -the editor published the following lamentation:-- - - “A RECEIPT FOR THE GOUT. - - “Oh Gout! the plague of rich and great! - Thou cramping padlock of the feet! - Oh Gout! thou puzzling knotty point! - You nick man’s frame in every joint; - You, like inquisitors of Spain, - Rack, burn, and torture limbs to pain. - First, miner-like, you work below, - And sap man’s fortress by the toe.... - And what is worse, the wounded part - Finds small relief from doctor’s art. - Great Wilmot’s skill confounded stands - When patient roars ... my toe! my hands!... - ’Tis said that bees, when raging found, - Are charm’d to peace by tinkling sound; - Shrill lullabies in nurse’s strain - Asswage the froward bantling’s pain, - When cutting teeth, or ill-plac’d pin, - Molest the tender baby’s skin, - So when Gout-humours throb and ache, - The present soft prescription take. - In elbow-chair majectick sit - In full high twinge, yet scorn to fret; - Divert the pain with generous wine; - Read news from Flanders and the Rhine; - Hold up the toe like Pope of Rome; - Forbear to scold, and swear, and fume; - Let double flannel guard the part, - To mitigate the dreadful smart; - Wrap round the joint this harmless verse; - And let dame Patience be your nurse.†- -Would any doctor in these times prescribe wine as a remedy against gout? -Whether the advice was sound or not, the Smarts appeared to have been -appeased, for there came no further complaints as to the stodginess of the -fare served up to them. - -In the same number of _The Student_ there appeared a letter from Bishop -Atterbury to his son Obadiah, who was up at the House. How the editor -procured it is not recorded, nor is it easy to see why he included it in -his columns. It cannot have been vastly entertaining to a list of -subscribers who devoted most of their time to ale and coffee-houses, or in -dallying with Amaryllis in the shade of Merton Wall. It is greatly -interesting to-day, however, as an example of what an eighteenth-century -parent indicted to his son. The contrast between this letter and the -replies one receives in 1911 in answer to one’s brief epistles written, -mostly, solely in order to “touch the dad down for a bit†is not -unstriking. - - “DEAR OBBY,--I thank you for your letter, because there are manifest - signs in it of your endeavouring to excel yourself, and in consequence - to please me. You have succeeded in both respects, and will always - succeed, if you think it worth your while to consider what you write - and to whom, and let nothing, tho’ of a trifling nature, pass through - your pen negligently. Get but the way of writing correctly and justly, - time and use will teach you to write readily afterwards. Not but that - too much care may give a stiffness to your style, which ought in all - letters by all means to be avoided. The turn of them should always be - natural and easy, for they are an image of private and familiar - conversation. I mention this with respect to the four or five first - lines of yours, which have an air of poetry, and do therefore - naturally resolve themselves into blank verses. I send you your letter - again, that you may make the same observation. But you took the hint - of that thought from a poem, and it is no wonder therefore, that you - heightened the phrase a little when you were expressing it. The rest - is as it should be; and particularly there is an air of duty and - sincerity, that if it comes from your heart, is the most acceptable - present you can make me. With these qualities an incorrect letter - would please me, and without them the finest thoughts and language - would make no lasting impression upon me. The great Being says, you - know--my son, give me thy heart--implying that without it all other - gifts signify nothing. Let me conjure you therefore never to say - anything, either in a letter or common conversation, that you do not - think, but always to let your mind and your words go together on the - most slight and trivial occasions. Shelter not the least degree of - insincerity under the notion of a compliment, which, as far as it - deserves to be practis’d by a man of probity, is only the most civil - and obliging way of saying what you really mean; and whoever employs - it otherwise, throws away truth for breeding; I need not tell you how - little his character gets by such an exchange. I say not this as if I - suspected that in any part of your letter you intended only to write - what was proper, without any regard to what was true; for I am - resolved to believe that you were in earnest from the beginning to the - end of it, as much as I am when I tell you that I am,--Your loving - father, etc.†- -The editor of _The Student_ pronounced himself the champion of many and -various causes. For instance, he organised in his columns a fund for the -maintenance of the widows and children of deceased clergy in straightened -circumstances, which did an immense amount of good. His appeal for money -was nobly responded to in Oxford, and widely taken up by the public. -Another matter against which he took up the cudgels was the fondness shown -so largely by the fair sex for indulging in masculine sports in masculine -attire--more particularly hunting. From his account it is clear that a -very great percentage of ladies was horsey to the exclusion of all else, -even, in his eyes, of femininity. - -“I cannot,†he wrote in an article occasioned by an amusing letter from a -short-sighted contributor who at dinner addressed his neighbour as Sir, -when all the time it was a lady, who, returning late from a day with the -hounds had had no time to change, “I cannot, indeed, but highly disapprove -not only the habit, but also the cause of it. It makes them appear rough -and manlike: it robs them of all the endearing softness, all the alluring -tenderness, that so captivates and charms the heart. As pity and a certain -degree of timorousness are essentially woven into their constitution, do -they not pervert the very end of their creation, who daringly tempt the -perils of the chace, or exult in the prosecution and death of a poor -harmless animal? If the laws of _decency_ are not broke thro’ by such an -unbecoming practice, I am sure, those of _delicacy_ are, which above all -things ’tis the business of the fair to keep up.†- -As an example of the unnatural and indelicate results of a woman being -sporting the editor related with pathos the story of one Peggy Atall, who -was brought up, her mother being dead, by her father, a country squire, to -all the “labourious sports of the field.†Hunting was, however, her -obsession, and she was noted as the boldest rider in the country. “As she -is an heiress, many a young fox hunter, whose love has been greater than -his prudence, has hazarded his neck and cheaply come off with a dislocated -limb or so, in following her thro’ the various perils and hairbreadth -’scapes of the chace.†The editor, who had the good fortune to know this -fair Diana, was, fortunately for himself, not in love with her, judging by -the avowedly casual manner in which he visited at her house. But he was -none the less deeply pained that “her whole conversation turns on that -topic. I have often heard her charm a large circle of gaping -fellow-sportsmen with a recapitulation of the feats of the day. She would -descant a whole hour on the virtues of Dreadnought, her own horse, who had -brought her in at the death of a stag, with Tom the huntsman, when every -gentleman on the field was thrown out; concluding with the most exulting -expressions of barbarous joy at seeing the poor beast torn to pieces.†He -brought his reflections to an end by strongly urging all his fair-hunting -readers to “lay aside the spirit of the chace together with the cap, the -whip, and _all the masculine attire_.†It is more than probable that as -the editor of a modern daily or weekly paper his remarks _à propos_ of -suffragette raids, and all the little delicate ventures in which women -vote-seekers indulge their fancy, would make very bright and spirited -reading. He was evidently born before his time. Be that as it may, he -undoubtedly conducted his paper on popular lines, for he was enabled to -keep it alive during the two years which he had mapped out for himself in -the beginning. Its fame was not local to Oxford and Cambridge. He received -letters of congratulation from Edinburgh, Dublin, and other university -towns--the senders of course enclosing contributions with their letters of -praise! - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -’VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to the - _Cozeners_ written by Mr Garrick--Visions, fables and moral - tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789. - - -_The Student_ was followed after a lapse of some eighteen years by the -_Oxford Magazine_, a monthly miscellany. Devoted to no one particular -object, the editors declared its columns open to every kind of literary -matter--scientific, historical, antiquarian. Light and merely amusing -subjects were also given a place in its pages. They boasted in addition a -feature which no other periodical had ever included--illustrations. _The -Student_, it is true, had an allegorical engraving as a frontispiece to -each volume, but the _Oxford Magazine_ went one better and had -copper-plates of many of the noteworthy persons and happenings of the day, -which were “made from the most striking subjects.†“Satirical and -political cards will be given in each number, executed by the most -ingenious artists; which, it is hoped, will vie, in humour and satire, -with the late celebrated Mr Hogarth’s performances.†Other features which -the editors dealt with far more enterprisingly than any other papers of -the century were the Drama and the Law Courts. In each number there -appeared a criticism of a Drury Lane production with the cast in full, a -description of the play, the plot given in _précis_ form, and a general -summing up of the merits or demerits of the writing and acting. Each of -these ran to several columns, and in some numbers there were criticisms of -two or three productions. Besides dealing with the Law Courts in the -Domestic Intelligence columns, which acted as a sort of monthly review of -events, there were full reports of some of the important trials of the -time. The editors’ foreword was not without interest, giving, as it did, -an exact idea of their plan of campaign. On the title page it was stated -that the magazine was “calculated for general instruction and amusement.†-To this end they put forward following the programme:-- - -“Among other subjects of general entertainment, the authors propose to -give, in the course of this magazine, complete systems of every branch of -useful learning, enriched with all the improvements of modern writers. -They do not, however, propose to confine their labours entirely to the -elucidation of the sciences; they propose to give a large account of the -political and other transactions in different parts of the world, -especially in our own country; every remarkable event, every uncommon -debate, and every interesting turn of affairs will be recorded. A copious -and authentic history of foreign and domestick occurrences will also be -given, digested in a chronological series, containing all the material -news of the month. To render this performance agreeable to every class of -readers, care will be taken to furnish it with pieces calculated for -general entertainment. The elegant amusements of literature, the flights -of poetical fancy, and the brilliant sallies of inoffensive wit, shall -find a place in our _Magazine_. In a word, researches into antiquity; -elucidations of ancient writers; criticisms on every branch of literature; -essays in prose and verse; visions, fables, moral tales, etc., will make a -part of this performance. The correspondence of the ingenious is therefore -requested....†- -On the lighter side of the periodical, one of the features was a monthly -collection from contemporary London papers of curious and remarkable -advertisements. They evidently appealed strongly to the supporters of the -paper, as, after the first volume, the editors gave them in greater -number. Some of them, indeed, were not without humour--of the broader kind -then in vogue--as will be seen from the few examples appended:-- - - “A maiden lady, who lately died in Ireland, left two guineas each to - four maidens, aged twenty-five, to be her pall-bearers, each of whom - was to swear she was a maid, before receiving the money; but such is - the detestation in which perjury is held in Ireland, that the old lady - was buried without a pall-bearer.--_Public Advertiser_, July 8.†- - “To the Single Women.--A Single Man wants to Lodge, or Lodge and - Board, with a Single Woman whether in business or not; keeps regular - hours, will not give much trouble, but spends many evenings at home; - therefore wishes to meet with a very conversable person and is willing - to pay a _handsome_ price.--_Gazetteer_, Nov. 22.†- - “On Thursday last a publican in Shoreditch sold his wife to a butcher - for a ticket in the present lottery, on condition that if the ticket - be drawn a blank he is to have his wife again as soon as the drawing - of the lottery is over.--_Public Advertiser_, Sep. 19.†- - “If any real gentleman will oblige a _lady_ of character with _one - hundred pounds_, for six months, on her own bond, the gentleman may - have an advantage, which cannot be mentioned in a public newspaper; it - is desired that none may apply who cannot command the sum - immediately.--Please to direct a line to J. X. at Mr Tomb’s No. 72 - Fetter Lane.†- - “If Mr ----, lately a Latin master at an academy in town, who has got - a dozen and a half of shirts belonging to Mr Wh--e, does not call on - his guardian in Coleman Street immediately, and give satisfaction for - the said shirts, his name will be advertised with many other - circumstances not to his advantage.--_Daily Advertiser_, Dec. 16.†- - “Mrs K---- (who was in one of the front boxes at the representation of - the ‘Trip to Scotland’) was observed to blush four times behind her - fan, occasioned, it is imagined, at the repetition of the words single - and _double beds_; as it is said to be well known that in her - elopement to Scotland only a _single bed_ was used going and - returning.†- -The above are a few specimens of the flowers of wit, printed extensively -at the time in many of the papers, culled from many volumes of the _Oxford -Magazine_. At the end of Volume IX., however, there was found to be no -further desire for them, and they were quietly dropped into the limbo of -forgotten things. The columns thus relieved were filled with anecdotes and -articles of a much less lively but more literary nature. - -The opening article in the first volume was a very serious essay, fully -equipped with examples and quotations from the ancients, on the Power of -the Passions. This was followed by a consideration as to whether genius is -a natural gift or an effect of education. From the great similarity of -style in the two articles, it is extremely probable that they were written -by the same pen. The next ten columns were occupied by a _verbatim_ report -of various speeches made in the Court of King’s Bench, and in certain -London clubs. The Surgeon Dentist to His Majesty then contributed a -flowing article on the disorders and deformities of the teeth and gums, in -which mothers might find copious hints as to the teething of their -infants. For the patrons of the Drama, unable to get up to London, there -was “Some Account of the Statesman Foil’d, a Musical Comedy in Two Acts, -composed by Mr Rush; and performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket.†-Even in those days it would seem that dramatic critics were of the settled -opinion that their task was never to praise, but only to carp and pick -holes, for, after giving a description of the play which read very -amusingly and well, the critic concluded by saying that although “several -of the songs are very prettily set, they are undoubtedly inferior to Mr -Rush’s former compositions; and the dialogue not remarkable for sentiment -or wit, is often extremely tiresome.†- -In whatever spirit the criticisms were written, however, it cannot be said -that the university, only allowed to perform plays after a deal of -discussion and recrimination on the part of the powers that were, did not -take a great interest in the Drama. As the _Oxford Magazine_ proceeded, -more and more space was devoted to the London productions, and whole -scenes which were deemed of literary and dramatic merit were quoted from -them. Many of the songs, too, were published at length. The July number in -1774 contains, for example, “an account of the new comedy called the -_Cozeners_ as it was performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket.†The -cast is quoted in full and, besides telling the story of the play in some -three columns, the prologue was printed. - -The critic of the _Magazine_ wrote about it as follows:-- - -“The piece was introduced with an excellent prologue, replete with the -true Attic salt (said to be written by Mr Garrick), and spoken by Mr -Foote, in which he compared himself to a watchman, whose business it is to -watch over the rising vices and follies of the age, and when they come to -a certain height, _knock them down_, by exposing them on the stage. As -nothing ever deserved applause more, so nothing was ever more warmly -received by the audience.†Of all the criticisms of the various -productions in whose casts are to be found the names of Mrs Siddons, Mrs -Love, Mr Foote, Mrs Yates, and many other famous actors and actresses of -the time, that of the _Cozeners_ is the most warm and praisegiving of any -printed in the _Magazine_. - -Among the visions, fables, and moral tales promised by the editors, there -was a vivid and detailed description of a nun’s taking the veil. The -writer spent himself in explanation of every word and deed that occurred -during the ceremony, but whether the article, which ran through several -issues and was written by a person of the male sex, was considered a -vision, a fable, or a moral tale, it is impossible to say. Whichever it -was, however, it was well observed and highly coloured. Then there -followed a curious little contribution which was labelled a tale, but -which ought surely to have been included in the category of visions or -fables. It was entitled the “Kiss,†and came from the German. “When I was -a youth, my father sent me to Paphos to study love, which I there learnt -of a Dryad.... Fair one, you may now learn of me what a Kiss is. The -Nymphs and Dryads never met to dance, without making me one of the party; -for I was dedicated to the God of Love, and everything within me expressed -the sentiment. - -“At this tender age I tasted the most pure pleasure. All Paphos, to me, -seemed to dance; for the little loves danced over my head, and the flowers -danced under my feet. Among the Dryads was one who affected always to -chuse me for her partner; she never failed to smile at me sweetly, to -squeeze my hand, and blush afterwards with all the graces of modesty. And -I squeezed also the hand of the Dryad, and blushed when I danced with her. -Even before Aurora had quitted the ocean I was already in the grove -sporting with my amiable Dryad. - -“Sometimes I surprised her in the groves, where she had retired, amidst -the thickest foliage, and where she wished to be discovered; sometimes she -watched me when I hid myself, and, when she discovered me, fled, and I -pursued in hopes of overtaking her. But, all of a sudden, she would -inclose herself in the bark of an oak, and elude my pursuit. And when I -had sought her long in vain, she used to burst into loud fits of laughter; -then I entreated her to come out of her place of concealment, and -immediately I saw her issue, smiling, from the body of the tree. - -“One day that I was playing with my Dryad in the wood, she tenderly patted -my cheeks and said, ‘Press your lips against mine.’ I pressed my lips -against hers; but, heavens! what pleasure did I then experience! No, the -honey that flows from Mount Hymettus is not so sweet, nor the fruit of the -vines of Surentum; even nectar, the nectar which Ganymede presents to the -immortal gods, is a thousand times less delicious. - -“Then she again glued her lips to mine. In the intoxication of my -transport, I cried: ‘Oh incomparable beauty! tell me the name of this -exquisite pleasure, which glides into my very soul from thy lips, whenever -our lips meet each other?’ She answered, with a gracious smile--‘a Kiss!’†- -This odd little piece of imaginative writing was printed on the same page -with a sketch of the trial of Samuel Gillam, Esq., for murder! - -It is not easy to conceive that the _Oxford Magazine_ was very popular -among Bucks of the first head, for there were, indeed, none of the -references to toasts, accompanied by frequent sonnets, which occupied so -large a place in the journals earlier in the century. The tone of the -paper was more sedate throughout. There was less of the bottle and -drinking bout. The contributions covered a far wider field of interest. - -The magazine is in some sort a combination of, or rather, perhaps, an -advance upon, _Jackson’s Journal_ and _The Student_. The editors united -the ideas of both these periodicals. From the one they obtained the notion -of the monthly summary of events collected from all parts; and from the -other, the idea of illustrations and fiction. The result of this -perfectly-justifiable plagiarism was certainly popular. The magazine ran -for about eight years without financial aid in the form of advertisements, -and at the end of each issue the acknowledgment of contributions, both -articles and illustrations, made a considerable list. Obviously, -therefore, the wide diversity of subjects and the not over-serious form in -which they were served up appealed to a public which hitherto had had to -be satisfied with the half-measures of those previous men who had been -bold enough to undertake the editing of ’varsity papers. - -The beginning of the last decade of the century saw the _début_ of _The -Loiterer_, which admittedly took its idea from Terrae Filius. Naturally, -it did not resemble it in style--the time for a Terrae Filius was -over--but in so much as Amhurst went no farther than the university gates -for his matter, _The Loiterer_ may be said to have imitated him. -Consequently, the first volume (there were only two) was practically -confined to subjects of academical life. The second volume, however, was -not reserved wholly to university matters--articles of outside interest -being admitted from time to time. The whole work was offered to the world -by the editors as “a rough, but not entirely inaccurate Sketch of the -Character, the Manners, and the Amusements of Oxford, at the close of the -eighteenth century.†The paper was hawked at threepence a copy every -Saturday morning--for which price the editors promised, on their word of -honour as gentlemen and authors, to cram it as full of learning, sense, -and wit as they could possibly afford for the money. As a foretaste of the -threepenny wit to come, they stated in their foreword that they hoped to -receive some credit for one thing at least, “that particular orders have -been given to Mr Rann (the publisher) that _The Loiterer_ should regularly -make his appearance at Nine o’clock, in order to be served up with the -bread and butter, crusts and muffins, and enter the room in good company. -We have been the more particular in this circumstance,†they continued, -“as it is the only hour, out of the twenty-four, in which there is a -probable chance of finding some of our Brother Loiterers at home, and the -only one in which any of them read: so genteel and so useful indeed is -this love of morning study, that were it not for the necessity of eating -breakfast, and of dressing hair, it is to be doubted whether some of our -numerous fraternity would not, in a short time, forget their letters.†- -This serving up with breakfast was a very wise move on the editors’ part, -for they knew from experience that it was the only hour when they stood -the least chance of being read--the rest of the day being passed by most -men in the strenuous occupation of killing time. The writer of article -number four in _The Loiterer_ was on his way to a lecture one morning when -he saw a man whom he knew leaning against the college gate with a vacant -expression on his serene countenance. Thinking that the poor fellow did -not know what to do with himself, the writer offered to take him to the -lecture which, he said, was to be remarkably entertaining. The lounger was -most polite in his thanks, and said he should have liked it above all -things, but that at the moment he was extremely busy and really had not -time. The writer, a little surprised, left him and attended the lecture, -returning two hours later to find the man leaning against the same -gate-post in nearly the same attitude. - -In the face of such stagnation who shall deny the wisdom of sending the -paper in with the hot roll, thereby catching the time-killers before they -have begun their day’s task? The writer concluded his narrative of ancient -lounging and reflections on the passing of the law whereby Undergraduates -were forbidden under severe penalties to loiter away their time in sitting -on Pennyless Bench, by giving the diary of a week in the life of an -Undergraduate in 1789. It is an extremely excellent and amusing piece of -work, which shows that there were past-masters in the gentle art of -slacking who seriously challenge some of the present-day exponents. - - “DIARY OF A MODERN OXFORD MAN (1789). - - “_Sunday._--Waked at eight o’clock by the scout, to tell me the bell - was going for prayers--wonder those scoundrels are allowed to make - such a noise--tried to get to sleep again, but could not--sat up and - read Hoyle in bed--ten, got up and breakfasted--Charles called to ask - me to ride--agreed to stay until the President was gone to - Church--half after eleven, rode out, going down the High Street saw - Will Sagely going to St Mary’s--can’t think what people go to church - for. Twelve to two, rode round Bullington Green, met Careless and a - new Freshman of Trinity--engaged them to dine with me--two to three, - lounged at the stable, made the Freshman ride over the Bail, talked to - him about horses: see he knows nothing about the matter--went home and - dressed--three to eight, dinner and wine--remarkable pleasant - evening--sold Rackett’s stone horse for him to Careless’s friend for - fifty guineas--certainly break his neck--eight to ten, coffee-house, - and lounged in the High Street--Stranger went home to study; am afraid - he’s a bad one--engaged to hunt to-morrow and dine with - Rackett--twelve, supped and went to bed early, in order to get up - to-morrow. - - “_Monday._--Racket _rowed_ me up at seven o’clock--sleepy and queer, - but forced to get up and make breakfast for him--eight to five in the - afternoon, hunting--famous run, and killed near Bicester--number of - tumbles--Freshman out on Rackett’s stone horse--got the devil of a - fall into a ditch--horse upon him--but don’t know whether he was - killed or not. Five, dressed and went to dine with Rackett--Dean had - cross’d his name, and no dinner to be got--went to the Angel and - dined--famous evening till eleven, when the Proctors came and told us - to go home to our colleges--went directly the contrary way--eleven to - one, went down into St Thomas’s and fought a raff--one, dragged home - by somebody, the Lord knows whom, and put to bed. - - “_Tuesday._--Very bruised and sore, did not get up till twelve--found - an imposition on my table--mem. to give it to the hairdresser--drank - six dishes of tea--did not know what to do with myself, so wrote to my - father for money. Half after one, put on my boots to ride for an - hour--met Careless at the stable--rode together--asked me to dine with - him and meet Jack Sedley, who is just returned from France--two to - three, returned home and dressed--four to seven, dinner and wine--Jack - very pleasant--told some good stories--says the French women have - thick legs--no hunting to be got, and very little wine--won’t go there - in a hurry--seven, went to the stable, and then looked in at the - coffee-house--very few drunken men, and nothing going forwards--agreed - to play Sedley at billiards--Walker’s table engaged, and forced to - go to the Blue Posts--lost two guineas--thought I could have beat him, - but the dog has been practising in France--ten, supper at - Careless’s--bought Sedley’s mare for thirty guineas--think he knows - nothing of a horse, and believe I have done him. Drank a little punch - and went to bed at twelve. - -[Illustration: OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING.] - - “_Wednesday._--Hunted with the Duke of B.--very long run, rode the new - mare, found her sinking, so pulled up in time and swore I had a shoe - lost--to sell her directly--buy no more horses of Sedley--knows more - than I thought he did.--Four, returned home, and as I was dressing to - dine with Sedley, received a note from some country neighbours of my - father’s to desire me to dine at the Cross--obliged to send an excuse - to Sedley--wanted to put on my cap and gown--cap broke and gown not to - be found, forced to borrow--half after four to ten, at the Cross with - my _Lions_--very _loving_ evening indeed--ten, found it too bad, so - got up and told them it was against the rules of the university to be - out later. - - “_Thursday._--Breakfasted at the Cross, and walked all the morning - about Oxford with my Lions--terrible flat work--Lions very - troublesome--asked an hundred and fifty silly questions about every - thing they saw. Wanted me to explain the Latin inscriptions on the - monuments in Christ Church Chapel!--Wanted to know how we spent our - time!--forced to give answers as well as I could. Four, forced to give - them a dinner and, what was worse, to sit with them till six, when I - told them I was engaged for the rest of the evening, and sent them - about their business--seven, dropped in at Careless’s rooms, found him - with a large party, all pretty much _cut_--thought it was a good time - to sell him Sedley’s mare, but he was not quite drunk enough--made a - bet with him that I trotted my poney from Benson to Oxford within the - hour--sure of winning, for I did it the other day in fifty minutes. - - “_Friday._--Got up early and rode the poney a foot pace over to Benson - to breakfast--Old Shrub breaks fast--told him of the bet and showed - him the poney--shook his head and looked cunning when he heard of - it--good sign--after breakfast rode the race, and won easy, but could - not get any money; forced to take Careless’s draught; daresay its not - worth two pence; great fool to bet with him. Twelve till three, - lounged at the stable, and cut my horse’s tail--eat soup at - Sadler’s--walked down the High Street--met Rackett, who wanted me to - dine with him, but could not because I was engaged to Sagely--three, - dinner at Sagely’s--very bad--dined, in a cold hall, and could get - nothing to eat--wine new--a bad fire--tea-kettle put on at five - o’clock--played at Whist for sixpences, and no bets--thought I should - have gone to sleep--terrible work dining with a studious man--eleven, - went to bed out of spirits. - - “_Saturday._--Ten, breakfast--attempted to read _The Loiterer_; but it - was too stupid; flung it down and took up ‘Bartlett’s Farriery’--had - not read two pages before a dun came, told him I should have some - money soon--would not be gone--offered him brandy--was sulky, and - would not have any--saw he was going to be _savage_, so kicked him - downstairs to prevent his being impertinent. Thought perhaps I might - have more of them, so went to lounge at the stables--poney got a bad - cough--and the black horse thrown out two splints--went back to my - room in an ill-humour--found a letter from my father, no money and a - great deal of advice--wants to know how my last quarter’s allowance - went--how the devil should I know?--he knows I keep no accounts--do - think fathers are the greatest _Bores_ in nature. Very low-spirited - and flat all the morning--some thought of reforming, but luckily - Careless came in to beg me to meet our party at his rooms, so altered - my mind, dined with him, and by nine in the evening was very happy.†- -It is amazing to think how many men there are in this year of grace -nineteen hundred and eleven who, if they should take it into their heads -to keep a diary, would have to write down page after page of exactly the -same stuff, would express exactly the same sentiments about their father, -and whose projects of a lasting reform would be for ever scattered by just -such a careless tap upon their oak. And yet it is written: _Tempora -mutantur_! - -_The Loiterer_ was not sold only to the local public at Oxford. It had a -quite large outside circulation, with agents in London, Birmingham, Bath, -and Reading, and ran for a year and three months. At the end of this -period the authors, the principal ones, revealed their identity and -retired from the editorial pinnacle into the comparative oblivion of their -Fellowships, having cause to congratulate themselves upon no small -success. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -’VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet._--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford._--_The - Oxford Act._--_The Oxford Sausage._--Present and latter day literature - summed up. - - -There were many other minor literary outputs which made their appearance -from time to time through the century, but it would be tedious to analyse -all of them. The outstanding ones were _The Oxford Packet_, _Academia: or -the Humours of Oxford_, _The Oxford Act_, Tom Warton’s fighting poem -entitled _The Triumph of Isis_, and _The Oxford Sausage_. - -_The Oxford Packet_ was a purely topical piece of writing containing -heated articles on the burning questions of the moment in Oxford. It was -published in London, “printed for J. Roberts in 1714,†with a list of -contents including “(1) News from Magdalene College (Sacheverell’s -Inscription on a piece of plate); (2) Antigamus: or a Satire against -Marriage, written by Mr Thomas Sawyer; (3) A Vindication of the _Oxford_ -Ladies, wherein are displayed the amours of some Gentlemen of _All Souls_ -and _St John’s Colleges_.†- -_Academia_, perpetrated by a woman, Alicia d’Anvers, ridiculed the manners -and customs of the university in a pointed and quite scurrilous manner. It -lived up to its sub-title, however, for it was an extremely humorous piece -of work. - -In 1733 there appeared the _The Oxford Act_, a ballad opera. A crude and -unamusing play, it is nevertheless interesting as containing the germ of -modern musical comedy. The idea of the piece was to satirise university -politics, but the lack of construction and the laboured manner in which -the dramatist introduced his songs and manÅ“uvred his characters makes it -tedious and rather difficult to appreciate. - -_The Triumph of Isis_ was occasioned by a denunciation of Oxford by a -Cambridge man, William Mason, who was guilty of a poem entitled _Isis_. In -it he taunted Oxford upon the degeneracy of her sons who - - “... madly bold - To Freedom’s foes infernal orgies hold.†- -This was more than any devoted son of _Alma mater_ could stand. -Accordingly, Tom Warton, stung to a retort, girded up his loins and flung -off _The Triumph of Isis_, in which he hurled ten thousand thunderbolts at -_The Venal Sons of Slavish Cam_. Dr Anderson, who wrote a preface to the -collection of Warton’s poems, says, “It is remarkable that though neither -Mason nor Warton ever excelled these performances, each of them as by -consent, when he first collected his poems into a volume, omitted his own -party production.â€[23] - -It was not until 1764 that _The Oxford Sausage_ was concocted. Its title -is singularly apt. It was a volume of choice scraps--selected pieces in -prose and verse which had already made their appearance in other and -earlier publications. It included several poems by Tom Warton, who edited -_The Sausage_, and contained others from _The Student_ and the _Oxford -Journal_. - -These then are the literary productions which distinguished the eighteenth -century in Oxford. From the numerous excerpts and passages quoted in -preceding chapters it will have been seen that there is not only an -enormous difference between the writing of the eighteenth century and -to-day in style and treatment, but in the method of conducting a paper. -To-day it is quite impossible to call a spade a spade. In those days it -was exactly the opposite. The whole point of writing was to call things by -their proper names. In fact, any other method would have been completely -misunderstood. The morals of the time were not more lax than now--that -would be impossible--but the language employed was, to put it mildly, very -much more unguarded. - -Matters were openly discussed in the drawing-rooms of the eighteenth -century which nowadays are supposed to be whispered in smoking-rooms. -Drunkenness and other kindred vices were held in high esteem. It was “the -thing†for him who had any aspirations to be a man of the world to have a -half dozen bottles of wine to his own cheek at one sitting, and unless he -succeeded in arriving at that state of helplessness which necessitated -bodily assistance from persons unknown, he was a dismal social failure. -Women, whose husbands were carried home night after night, smiled -leniently and did not dream of interfering. Many ladies indeed did not -deny themselves the solace of the bottle, and in the records of the time I -have found more than one reference to women who were well-known, almost -licensed, topers. The question of toasts, too, and the light in which the -university held them, was Gilbertian. The statutes sternly forbade them -under penalty of dire pains and punishments, but for all practical -purposes the statutes were a waste of time. Oxford was famed for her -toasts, and their dealings were not confined solely to the gownsmen but -also to Dons and Heads of colleges, who, far from carrying out the -statutes which they had made, pooh-poohed them and indulged themselves to -their heart’s content. - -With such a condition of things it is not very remarkable that the -literature of the time should be characterised by coarseness of language -and ideas. Its humour was of the riper kind which permitted of no -possible misunderstanding. Many of the jokes printed in such periodicals -as the _Oxford Journal_ and the _Oxford Magazine_--both papers in high -repute which circulated among Dons, Undergraduates and residents--would be -quite unprintable to-day even in the most yellow of the sporting papers. -The pen of Amhurst was hampered by no considerations of delicacy or -modesty. Whatever he felt on any subject that he wrote, boldly and without -mincing, and the fact that his articles were read with interest and -delight by male and female alike is proof that there is no blame attaching -to him for scurrility. He was merely in the period. There are also -instances of women who wrote with almost the same degree of frankness as -did Alicia d’Anvers, who had, as I have shown, an immodesty of style -unique in the entire century. She satirised all the manners, customs, -hobbies and vices of the university with flagrant lack of good taste -which, judging by the characteristics of the time, made her poem a great -success. - -In the eighteenth century there were neither advertisements--except in the -_Oxford Journal_, and they were few in number--nor athletic fixtures. The -editors, therefore, had to rely entirely upon the merits of the articles -printed in their paper. Their sole hope of life lay in circulation, and as -they had not then discovered such “adventitious aids†as idols and open -letters, they were forced to do their utmost to make their paper bright -and readable. That they did so is obvious from the great number of -contributors who sent in articles regularly, and that, too, without any -hope of payment. - -From the point of view of journalism there is no paper in Oxford to-day -which can survive a comparison with Terrae Filius. He did not go outside -the university for his subjects, and yet in each paper he was topical, -forcible, and to the point. Beyond this he was amusing, and there was a -sting in each single word which made the unhappy subject of his attack -squirm in his place. He did not indulge in long-winded and abortive -discussions about matters of no interest whatever to the university, such -as are invariably to be seen in twentieth-century papers. He instinctively -hit upon the only subject each week that was before the eye of Oxford, and -in straightforward, pithy language wrote it down, laughed at it, or cried -over it. In whatever spirit he treated it he left nothing more to be said. -He used it up, exhausted it, and turned to the next point. Not having any -advertisers to consider--and he would certainly not have considered them -had they existed--he said what he wanted to say without fear or favour, -and if he did not attain to such financial success as does the milk and -water stuff of to-day, he did establish, beyond all argument, a reputation -which has already survived two centuries. Which of the existing Oxford -journals can hope to compete against such a record? - -However much eighteenth-century writers merit the charge of -coarseness--and it is not laid at their door in the spirit of blame but -merely as an illustration of things as they existed--they undoubtedly -attained a higher literary standard than the Undergraduate writers of -to-day. As, however, I have said that the modern standard does not rise -above mediocrity, I am not paying a very great compliment to the writers -of the Rowlandson period. Such is, however, my intention, for I cannot see -that there is such great brilliance in the eighteenth-century papers as to -justify my launching out into paeans of adulation. In all the publications -of the time there were, as I have shown, some excellent pieces of writing. -The sonnets and epigrams, dashed off at the coffee-houses to the beauties -of the reigning toast, were filled with classical allusions and subtle -parallels. This is somewhat remarkable because the Bloods admittedly never -did any reading. They had no time for it. However likeable and readable -these were, there was no genius, no striking merit in any of them. They -certainly showed more promise than the greater part of the work of -twentieth-century Oxford men--a point which is emphasised by the fact that -our predecessors were generally three or four years younger on going up to -the university. To-day we go up at about nineteen years of age. In those -days it was the fashion for men to arrive in Oxford in their fifteenth or -sixteenth year. - -With the exception of Nicholas Amhurst, from whom I have drawn with so -much pleasure, there can be found no Undergraduate of Georgian times whose -genius, in however crude a form, awoke in the pages of university -literature. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student’s_ opinion of one--A Tradesman’s poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties--Tradesmen’s taste in - literature--Advertising and _The Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, - innkeeper--Amhurst’s confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts. - - -Like Nemesis, the Oxford tradesman has sooner or later to be reckoned -with. His methods are, and for that matter always were, rather -spider-like. He sets out a beautiful and enticing web in his shop window, -and sits placidly in the darkness of his back parlour to await results. -One after another the Undergraduates, foolish flies, dash in; and then, -when they have been given sufficient time--a year or so--the spider -pounces and demands his just, but frequently exorbitant, dues. Sometimes -he does not get them. Spiders, however, rarely come in for any sympathy. - -The old-time Oxford tradesman was undoubtedly a man of parts. In all the -periodicals of the time are to be found odes, couplets, and prose-writings -all singing his praise. He constituted a factor of importance in the daily -routine of eighteenth-century life. It must, indeed, have been a sick -Smart who did not visit daily his barber and _perruquier_, his -horse-dealer, his tobacco merchant, his mercer and tailor, his -coffee-house. These worthy townsmen seem to have been, in fact, the sole -_raison d’être_ of the Smart’s university career, and their pseudo -erudition and quite exceptional powers were the cause of an enthusiastic -article from the pen of _The Student_. - -“A tradesman of Oxford,†he wrote, “is no more like another common -tradesman than some collegians are like other men ... the very sign-posts -express their taste for learning and superiour education. Our mercers, -milliners, taylors, etc., etc., have shewn their nice judgments in the art -of designing, by the many curious emblematical devices that so eminently -adorn the entrances to their shops. How sublime are the signs of our -innkeepers! the Angel, the Cross, the Mitre, the Maidenhead, with many -others, are too well known to need mentioning. A tooth drawer amongst us -denotes his occupation by an excellent poetical distich; a second with -great propriety stiles himself operator for the teeth: and my printer who -sells James’s fever powder, Greenough’s tinctures, Hoopers’ female pills, -and the like, exhibits to our view in large golden letters over his door -the pompous denomination of Medicinal Warehouse. Nor are we at all -surprised to see written in this learned university, tho’ over a female -bookseller’s door, ‘BIBLIOPOLIUM MARIAE,’ etc. - -“Not to dwell too minutely on externals, every tradesman with us is a -mathematician, or philosopher, or divine, or critick, and what not? But -they are all to a man particularly famous for their skill in arithmetick. -For my own part I never dealt with one yet who was not thoroughly -practised in addition and multiplication. - -“I know an ale-houseman (he sells an excellent pot of ale) who has made -several experiments in electricity, but without a machine: I know a -grocer, a profound reasoner and speculative moralist, a bookbinder deeply -read in Geography, Chorography, etc., and a glazier, a great -mathematician, who has squar’d the circle several time _all but a little -bit_. A barber has published a cutting poem lately, which is universally -admired, and all his own making. It is not to be doubted that our Oxford -booksellers are excellent criticks. They can tell you the character of a -book by only looking at the title page. My own, in particular, is so fine -a judge of composition, that he begs me not to send anything to the press -till it has been submitted to his correction. Besides, I know he has a -strong desire to begin author himself, but his singular modesty will not -permit him to own it. He has, therefore, prevailed with me to erect a -small box, with a slit, in his door to receive the contributions of those -writers who chuse to be concealed. As I know the man’s vanity will oblige -him sometimes to put in his mite, I desire the reader, when he meets with -anything particularly dull, to suppose it written, not by me, but my -bookseller. - -“I have often heard two learned tradesmen chop logick together on the most -sublime topicks. Once, in particular, I was present at a very important -dispute, when a shoemaker (a very honest fellow) affirmed, to the general -satisfaction of his audience, that the world was eternal from the -beginning, and would be so to the end of it. At another time, the -discourse running upon politics, a mercer (no small man, I can assure you) -wonder’d what a duce we would have. ‘I’m sure,’ says he, ‘there’s not a -happier Island in England than Great Britain; and a man may chuse his own -Religion, that he may, whether it be Mahometism or Infidelity.’ A little -while ago I lent my Smith’s harmonicks to my Musick-master, who has since -return’d it, assuring me that it is not worth a farthing; for ’twould -teach me the Thievery mayhap, but as for the Practicks, he’ll put me into -a betterer method. I could produce many more such instances which I have -gleaned from their conversations; but these will be sufficient to convince -the world that no subject is too high, no point too intricate for their -exalted capacities.... I cannot conclude better than by giving a specimen -of an Oxford tradesman’s poetical genius, in an extract of a letter from -my taylor, who (in the college phrase) put the dun upon me. In my answer I -advised him to peruse Philips’s description of a dun in his splendid -shilling: to which he made me this reply.... ‘But now to that which, you -say, breaks all friendship, a dun, horrible monster! I have _bruis’d_ -Philips, though, in some places too hard. As to the appellation, I cannot -think it rightly apply’d.’ - - “For I - Ne’er yet did thunder with my vocal heel, - Nor call’d yet thrice with hideous accent dire; - But only with my pen declar’d my dread, - What most I fear’d, the horrid catch-pole’s claw. - - “But you, - Whom fortune’s blest with splendid shilling worth, - Ne’er fears the monster’s horrid faded brow, - Fed with the produce of blest Alb’on’s isle, - With juice of Gallic and Hispernian - Fruits, that doe chearful make the heart of man, - Thus sink my muse into the deep abyss, - As low as Styx or Stygia’s bottom is.†- -“_N.B._â€--wrote _The Student_ in italics at the foot of this wonderful -poem, “I have paid him.†- -There is a certain amount of pathos underlying that delightful piece of -mock praise. The thought of the mercers, grocers, shoemakers, and the rest -honestly believing themselves to have attained to a most unusual degree of -learning, by reason of their propinquity to a university, and parading -their monumental ignorance under that belief, is a very painful one. It is -even more painful, looking to the fact that most tradesmen, connected in -any way with Academic Oxford, read _The Student_ regularly, to know that -the above stream of ridicule did not enlighten them as to the truth. - -Another man who had evidently had the dun put upon him, not once but many -times, by sulky tradesmen, received (so at least it is to be supposed) an -unexpected windfall with which he settled all outstanding debts. The -wonderful and unaccustomed feeling of showing a clean slate was so strong -that he was moved to an ecstasy of versification to relieve himself. - - “The man, who not a farthing owes, - Looks down with scornful eye on those - Who rise by fraud and cunning, - Tho’ in the Pig-market he stand - With aspect grave and clear-starched band, - He fear’s no tradesmen’s dunning. - - “He passes by each shop in town, - Nor hides his face beneath his gown, - No dread his heart invading; - He quaffs the nectar of the Tuns - Or on a spur-gall’d hackney runs - To London, masquerading. - - “Place me on Scotland’s bleakest hill, - Provided I can pay my bill, - Hang every thought of sorrow, - There falling sleet, or frost, or rain - Attack a soul resolv’d in vain; - It may be fair to-morrow.†- -From the fact that the man in debt had to hide his head beneath his gown -in order to get past the shops safely or else to pursue the longer but -less risky method of slinking down back streets so as to avoid meeting -creditors, it is certain that the shopkeeper who had lost his patience, -and was intent on nothing but getting his money back, was looked upon as a -fearsome and dreaded creature. His war tactics, aided by free access to -his customer’s rooms, consisted of serving writs freely--putting the dun -upon his victims. One way to evade the serving was to sport the oak and -remain in voluntary confinement. Such a method was not, however, popular -as there was no alternative but work to relieve the tedium of such -imprisonment. Another way was described in the diary of a modern Oxford -man in _The Loiterer_. This “modern†gentleman was slacking away the -boring hour after breakfast in the perusal of “Bartlett’s Farriery†when -there came a tap at his door, and in strode a dun with an insolent smirk. -The Undergraduate politely explained that he was shortly expecting a very -healthy windfall from home, upon receipt of which he would immediately pay -what was owing. The dun received this news with cold disbelief and refused -to be put off. Upon being offered brandy he became “sulky,†and refused -with a touch of irritation. Then the Undergraduate, enraged at such -insolence, rose in his wrath and kicked the fellow down stairs to stop him -from becoming more impertinent. - -The dun must have possessed a curious character. Knowing well the -propensities of Undergraduates, he did not, like a wise man, imbibe the -liquid refreshment so generously offered to him, and depart with the -knowledge that payment, for that day at least, was impossible. Instead, he -refused brandy and waited to be kicked out--without, apparently, having -served his writ. - -The question of advertising was in those days only in its infancy. The -tradesman patronised Jackson’s _Oxford Journal_ to a certain extent. In it -are to be found curiously worded announcements of medicines, books, -cock-fights, curacies to be drunk or eaten for, dancing masters who were -exclusive to the peerage, election paragraphs, and public notices; while -advertisements for wives and husbands, or loans of money, were not -infrequent. One of the most up-to-date and cunning methods then practised -was for two rival tradesmen to get up a mock ink-slinging match in the -columns of some periodical, and week after week furiously to denounce each -other as cheats, tricksters, and knaves, the one saying that the other -sold inferior goods, and _vice versâ_. - -_The Loiterer_, prowling round incognito in search of copy for his next -issue, witnessed a “circumstance†as he calls it, connected with -advertisements, which is not unamusing. He was seated in his favourite -elbow chair in his usual corner at King’s coffee-room, and had almost -despaired of picking up an idea, when he noticed a very reverend and -respectable gentleman who was apparently quite unknown to every one in the -room, and who seemed more engrossed in his own thoughts than amused by the -newspaper he was reading or the laughter and talk from the others in the -coffee-room. Suddenly, calling for his bill, he finished reading a -paragraph in the paper with upraised eyebrows and a note of horrified -surprise in his voice. “Upwards of forty thousand persons of both sexes! -Good God,†he said, “what a state must the cities of London and -Westminster be in!†The elderly gentleman rose, and on his way out placed -the paper into _The Loiterer’s_ hand. Every one in the room had heard his -remark and observed the manner of his exit. Immediately, therefore, there -was great excitement, every one wondering what amazing thing had happened -that could have escaped his notice while reading that very paper. _The -Loiterer_ began calmly to read solidly through column after column to find -this wonderfully exciting paragraph. While he was doing so a thin, -emaciated man “with a sallow and diseased countenance who, I have now -reason to believe was one of the forty thousand, stepped forward and -elucidated the mystery in a moment.†- -He rapped out an oath and swore that the old gentleman had been meditating -on the advertisement of Leake’s Justly Famous Pill. - -From this perturbing episode in the coffee-house _The Loiterer_ got the -idea of using his paper for the discussion of the peculiarities of -advertisement indulged in by tradesmen, local and otherwise. “I shall pass -over,†he says, “the various wants of mankind, together with the pompous -Descriptions, the florid and luxuriant Language of Auctioneers which is -capable of converting a paltry Cottage into an elegant Villa. Nor shall I -dwell on a curious Phenomenon, a political Advertisement for the Sale of -Perfumery and the Dressing of Hair. But it is impossible with the same -indifference to pass over the ingenious Mr ---- who sells his Wines ‘for -the πόδας ὠκύς of ready Money only, Wines in which neither the eyes of -Argus, nor the Taste of Epicurus, can discover the least sophistication.’ - -“One advertisement informs us, that Chimney pieces, another that -Candlesticks, are ‘fashioned according to architectonic Models, and -agreeable to the affecting chastity of the Antique.’ A third lets us know -how much we are obliged to the Legislature, ‘that he is now enabled to -offer Pomatum to the public agreeable to the commercial Treaty’.... What -Lady, ‘who excites admiration on account of the superior charms that -animate her Complexion,’ can withstand an Advertisement of the Palmyrene -Soap? Every systematical old Fellow that wishes to know the exact number -of yards which he walks in a day, will certainly furnish himself with ‘the -Pedometer, or Way-wiser.’ And I make no manner of doubt that all the -Gentlemen Sportsmen of this University will find it impossible to resist -the persuasive nonsense and absurdity of ‘Guns matchless for shooting; or -twisted barrels, bored on an improved plan, that will always maintain -their true velocity, and not let the Birds fly away after being shot, as -they generally do with Guns not properly bored, this method of boring Guns -will enable every Shooter to Kill his Bird, as they are sure of their mark -at ninety yards; he bores any sound Barrel for Two Guineas, and he makes -them much stronger than before.’ If we take this Fellow’s own word we must -allow him, without a pun, to be the greatest Borer in the kingdom.†- -The system of “tick†seems to have been very simple. It was only necessary -to enter a shop and order things in large quantities for the tradesman to -allow credit. In the case of dirty Dick, who was lured into becoming a fop -by the report of the appreciative remarks which the lady Flavia was -supposed to have made about him, the only thing which had to be done to -gull the ever-obliging tradesman was to spread a rumour that the sloven -had come in for a legacy. The result was instantaneous, and Dick became a -Smart; but whether anybody was ever paid is not on record. The various -inns, ale-houses, coffee-houses and wig-makers had little need to -advertise. The Undergraduates did that for them. In nearly every poem and -sonnet that ever was written the praises are sung of Tom’s or James’s or -Clapham’s or Lyne’s or Hamilton’s, while the great Tom Warton immortalises -three “Peruke-Makers†in his _Ode to a Grizzle-Wig_. - - “Can thus large wigs our Reverence engage? - Have Barbers thus the Pow’r to blind our Eyes? - Is Science thus conferr’d on every Sage, - By Bayliss, Blenkinsop, and lofty Wise?†- -While on the subject of innkeepers there is an example of the consummate -impudence of Terrae Filius which is most worthy of note. He compared the -Rev. Dr Newton, Principal of Hart Hall, to an innkeeper, in a letter upon -Dr Newton’s book entitled “University Education.†- -“Some persons it seems,†wrote Amhurst, “have entertained a notion, that -your hall is no more than an inn, of which you are the host, and your -scholars the guests. I am sorry, sir, to say that there seems to be some -reason in this notion, however merrily you may please to treat it. For do -you not, like other innkeepers, get your living, and maintain your family -by letting lodgings, and keeping an ordinary for all comers? Are you not -licens’d for so doing, like other innkeepers and retalers of beer, though -by a different hand? Indeed, you sell logick and other sorts of learning, -as well as provisions for eating and drinking; but that cannot destroy the -character of an innkeeper, which you certainly are in all other respects, -but only proves that you deal in some particulars which your brethren of -the trade do not.... You have, no doubt, the same right, with other -innkeepers, to bring in a bill, and demand your reckoning, when you -please; which I do not hear that Mr Seaman, or any other of your guests -ever refused to pay; but I believe you are the only landlord in town who -would offer to detain his guests by force, after they had paid their -reckoning, and oblige them to spend more of their money in his house, -whether they will or not.†- -All these subtle parallels were, of course, not intended as compliments. -To call a Head of a Hall an innkeeper is not exactly to take off one’s hat -to him. But Amhurst forgot that in a previous chapter he made a proud -confession of his own humble origin. His discourse was of great men sprung -from small beginnings. - -“What,†he asked, “was of old the famous Cardinal Wolsey but a butcher’s -son?... Nay, to go no farther, even I myself, overgrown as I am in fame -and wealth, stiled by all unprejudiced and sensible persons the instructor -of mankind, and the reformer of the two universities, am by birth but an -humble plebeian, the younger son of an ale-house keeper in Wapping, who -was for several years in doubt which to make of me, a philosopher, or a -sailor: but at length birthright prevailing, I was sent to Oxford, scholar -of a college, and my elder brother a cabin boy to the West Indies.†- -But why drag in Wolsey? - -In King Charles’s letter against the women of the university of Cambridge -he banned the houses of all taverners, inn-holders or victuallers. It was -this class of tradesmen in Oxford who brought up their daughters as -toasts. This was the reason why a statute was passed “Prohibiting all -scholars, as well Graduates as Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to -frequent the houses and shops of any tradesmen by day, and especially by -night....†- - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr Newton on - tutor’s fees--Dr Johnson’s recommendation of Bateman--Public - lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham man’s letter. - - -Just as the schoolmaster is considered the natural enemy of boys, so is -the Don popularly credited with being the natural enemy of the -Undergraduates. The originator of this wonderful theory is presumably the -lady novelist who, with no deeper knowledge of Oxford than that obtained -from a minute study of the coloured photographs in railway trains, has -pictured the Don in her vivid imagination to be a crusty, inhuman, and -gouty septuagenarian who, in the intervals of delivering abstruse -lectures, passes his days in sending men down and otherwise suppressing -all vitality and humanity. - -Anything more completely ridiculous it would be impossible to imagine. -Conceive a body of charming and delightful men, very kindly and -sympathetic, always ready to go out of their way to help a man in -financial or moral difficulties, cultured, intellectual, hard working, -thorough sportsmen in the best sense of that much abused word, full of -loyalty to their college and to the university, delighted by the athletic -or scholastic triumphs of the men with whom they are in close contact--and -then you do not obtain anything more than a true description of those men -who do so much to uphold the honour of the university, and who are -remembered with respect and even affection by the generations of -Undergraduates who pass through their hands. - -The eighteenth-century Don, on the contrary, was a person altogether -different. In the desire to bring out the light and shade of his -personality I am frustrated by the superabundance of the latter and the -minute quantity of the former. In dealing with the Georgian Don I have -taken each species separately: the Tutor, the Lecturer, the Examiner, the -Head of a college, and so forth. - -It appears that the old-time fresher, having been admitted to a college, -was at once recommended to a tutor whom he interviewed in his rooms. The -Hoxton man, who came up with his mother and his dad, found himself called -upon by his prospective tutor to sit down and make small work of several -quarts of liquid refreshment to the healths of various “traitors.†Being -somewhat flurried at this boisterous reception, the lad was assured that -he did not come to the university to pray, and that in any case, he, the -tutor, would look after him like a father. Of being called upon to do any -work with him there was no whisper. Gibbon, on the other hand, on being -placed under the tutorship of Dr Waldegrave, was desired to attend that -gentleman’s rooms each morning from ten to eleven and read the _Comedies -of Terence_. This he accordingly did, but with so little advantage to -himself that, after a few weeks, he quietly dropped away and saw his tutor -no more. To counterbalance the accusation of slackness against Dr -Waldegrave, Gibbon described him as having been a “learned and pious man -of a mild disposition, strict morals and abstemious life, who seldom -mingled in the politics or jollity of the college.†This worthy man -departed from the precincts of Magdalen, and Gibbon had nothing good to -say for his successor. “The second tutor,†wrote Gibbon, “whose literary -character did not command the respect of the college, well remembered that -he had a salary to receive, and only forgot that he had a duty to -perform.... Excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms during the titular -months of his office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same college as -strangers to each other.†- -The vindicator of Magdalen leaped into the breach on behalf of the tutors -against Gibbon, and gave a hundred reasons why Gibbon was in the wrong. -But there are numberless other instances of utter laziness among that -section of the Don world. Malmesbury, for instance, related in his usual -cheery and optimistic manner, that his tutor, “an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practice of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to do trigonometry.†This witness matriculated at -Merton thirteen years after Gibbon’s time. - -Another example of bad tutorship may be quoted from William Fitzmaurice, -second Earl of Shelburne, who went up in 1753. “At sixteen, I went to -Christ Church, where I had again the misfortune to fall under a -narrow-minded tutor.... He was not without learning, and certainly laid -himself out to be serviceable to me in point of reading.... I came full of -prejudices. My tutor added to those prejudices by connecting me with the -anti-Westminsters, who were far from the most fashionable part of the -college, and a small minority.â€[24] - -In the light of these adverse criticisms it is interesting to note the -statutorial view as to the ideal tutor. According to Amhurst, who quoted -statute (_d_), it was ordained that “no person shall be a tutor who has -not taken a degree in some faculty, and is not (in the judgment in the -head of the college or hall to which he belongs) a man of approv’d -learning, probity and sincere religion.†But can these requirements be -called sufficient if the hundreds of tutors against whom their pupils -flung accusations of slackness, drunkenness, and other hobbies, all -satisfied them? - -_The Loiterer_, evidently with this insufficent statute in mind, made some -very intelligent remarks _à propos_ of this question. “Scarce any office,†-he wrote, “demands so many different requisites in those who would fill it -properly, as that of a college Tutor, and in none perhaps is propriety of -Choice so little attended to. The Tutor of a College goes off to a Living, -dies of an Apoplexy, or is otherwise provided for; a Successor must be -found; and as few who have better prospects chuse to undertake so -disagreeable an office, the Society is sometimes under the necessity of -appointing a person, who is no further qualified for it than by the -possession of a little classical, or mathematical information. With this -slender stock of knowledge, and without any acquaintance with the World or -any insight into Characters, He enters on his office with more Zeal than -Discretion, asserts his own opinions with arrogance and maintains them -with obstinacy, calls Contradiction, Contumacy, and Reply, Pertness, and -deals out his Jobations, Impositions, and Confinements, to every ill-fated -Junior who is daring enough to oppose his sentiments, or doubt his -opinions. The consequence of this is perfectly natural. He treats his -pupils as Boys and they think him a Brute. From that moment all his power -of doing good ceases; for we learn nothing from him, who has forfeited our -confidence. Such is the Portrait of what Tutors too often are, might I be -indulged in pointing out what they _should_ be, very different would be -the Character I should sketch. I would draw him modest in his disposition, -mild in his temper, gentle and insinuating in his address; scarce less a -man of the world than a man of letters. His Classic Knowledge (though far -above mediocrity) should be the least of his acquirements; General -Knowledge should be his forte, and the application of it to general -purposes his aim. He should not only improve those under his care in his -publick lectures, but should endeavour at least to direct them in their -private studies; he should encourage them to read, and should teach them -to read with taste.†- -At this point _The Loiterer’s_ friend interrupted and insisted that no man -was ever born to be a tutor if tutors must possess all the attributes -contained in that description. Upon this _The Loiterer_ said that he knew -only one man in the entire university who came up to the standard, and -that man was his own tutor. - -Gibbon made a scornful allusion to the salary of tutors. On this subject -Dr Newton penned a multitude of indignant sheets because a certain -Undergraduate, named Joseph Somaster, demanded permission to leave Hart -Hall and transfer himself to Balliol for the reason that he had an offer -of obtaining a tutor there who required no fees. With regard therefore to -tutors’ fees, “it may be observed,†wrote the reverend Doctor, “that the -University doth allow Tutors to Receive a consideration for their care of -the Youth entrusted to them; that, as this is very Reasonable in itself, -so hath it ever been the Practice of Tutors to Receive a Consideration for -such their care; that the consideration they have received, not being -limited by any Statute, hath varied, and is, at this day, different in -different Houses of Education within the University; that the tutor’s -demand being known, and not objected to before a Scholar is enter’d under -his care, the same, upon entrance, becomes the consideration that is -agreed to be paid for his care. That the Labourer is worthy of his Hire; -that some Hire is both a better Encouragement to a Tutor, and a greater -obligation upon him to take a due care, than no Hire; that the greatest -Hire, of which any tutor in the University is, at this day thought worthy, -compar’d with the Expence he hath been at, and the Pains he hath taken, -and the Years he hath spent in order to Qualifie himself for this trust, -and also, with the further Labour and Time he must employ in discharging -it faithfully, is very small. That unless Learning be the very lowest of -all attainments, and the Education of Youth the very lowest of all -Professions, Thirty Shillings a Quarter, for near three times as many -Lectures, is not so extravagant a demand, as that he who pays it, should -do it with an unwilling hand. Much less that any one, who hath Himself -been a Tutor, and who hath experienc’d a faithful Tutor’s trouble and -anxiety, should think it too much for any of his Fellow-Labourers in the -same Vocation, although their circumstances should be so affluent that -they need not any reward, or their Friendship so particular that they do -not desire it.â€[25] - -In the time of Dr Johnson the college tutors lectured in Hall as well as -in their own rooms, and, in addition, they set weekly themes for -composition--for the non-performance of which the fine was half a crown. -The day for giving in these themes was Saturday. George Whitefield, though -only a poor starveling servitor with scarce a penny to bless himself with, -was twice fined by his tutor because he failed to compose his theme. - -Christopher Wordsworth in his book on the universities in the eighteenth -centuries made it clear that when Dr Johnson was at Pembroke in 1728, -“Undergraduates generally depended entirely upon the Tutor to guide all -their reading. His first tutor Jordon was like a father to his pupils, but -he was intellectually incompetent for his important position. For this -reason Johnson recommended his old schoolfellow Taylor to go to Christ -Church on account of the excellent lectures of Bateman then tutor there.†-In Johnson’s own words in reference to Mr Jordon, “He was a very worthy -man, but a heavy man, and I did not profit much by his instructions. -Indeed, I did not attend him much. The first day after I came to college, -I waited upon him, and then staid away four. On the sixth, Mr Jordon -asked me why I had not attended. I answered, I had been sliding in -Christchurch meadow. And this I said with as much non-chalance as I am now -talking to you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my -tutor.†To this self accusation Boswell replied, “That, Sir, was great -fortitude of mind!†“No, Sir,†snapped Johnson, “stark insensibility.â€[26] - -It is unnecessary to arraign further damning evidence against the Georgian -tutor. He stands convicted on the cases which I have related. Were I -called upon indeed to summon other witnesses for the prosecution, I have -but to turn to any eighteenth-century authority. No one has a word to say -in his favour. By every one he is pronounced to be an idle, -self-indulgent, dishonest, utterly unintellectual creature, conspicuously -lacking in “learning, probity, and sincere religion.†- -The next division of the genus Don is the public lecturer, in regard to -whom there are, so Amhurst informed us, a number of statutes concerning -the public lecturers in all faculties: appointing, with the utmost -exactness, where they shall read, when they shall read, what they shall -read, how they shall read, and to whom they shall read. “All these (as I -have frequently observed) are almost totally neglected; out of twenty -public lectures, not above three or four being observed at all, and they -not statutably observed: for the auditors, who belong to the same college -with the lecturer in any faculty, do not wait upon him to the school, -where he reads, and back again, as they ought to do; so far from it, that -not one in ten goes to hear these lectures, nor do they (who do attend) -take down what they hear in writing; neither do they (I believe) -diligently read over the same author at home, which the public professor -undertook to explain; nor are persons punished (as the statutes require) -for any of these omissions.†Even if it be admitted that three or four is -an exaggeratedly low estimate of the number of these lectures, and that -the “auditors†are just as lazy as the men who deliver them, yet it is not -to be wondered at that the Undergraduates did not read over the authors, -or write down what they heard. All the lectures were delivered by Dons who -knew next to nothing about their subject, and they were in consequence -very tedious and worthless affairs. - -The lectureships were bestowed “upon such as are utterly and notoriously -ignorant of them, and never made them their study in their lives. They are -given away, as pensions and sinecures, to any body that can make a good -interest for them, without any respect to his abilities or character in -general, or to what faculty in particular he has apply’d his mind. I have -known a profligate _debauchee_ chosen professor of moral philosophy; and a -fellow, who never look’d upon the stars soberly in his life, professor of -astronomy; we have had history professors, who never read anything to -qualify them for it, but Tom Thumb, Jack the Giant-killer, Don Belicanis -of Greece, and such like valuable records; we have had likewise numberless -professors of Greek, Hebrew and Arabick, who scarce understood their -mother tongue; and, not long ago, a famous gamester and stock-jobber was -elected to M--g--t, professor of divinity; so great it seems is the -analogy between dusting of cushions, and shaking of elbows, or between -squand’ring away of estates, and saving of souls!†- -[Illustration: A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD.] - -Terrae Filius was moved to the above denunciations and reminiscences of -lecturers, who, he said, were elected perhaps on the principle that “he -can do no mischief; ergo, he shall be our man,†by the receipt of a -letter from a Wadham man who recounted his own personal experiences of -lecturers and their ways. It runs thus:-- - - “WADHAM COLLEGE, _Jan. 22, 1720_. - - “_To the Author of Terrae Filius._ - - “SIR,--I hope you intend to acquaint the world, amongst other abuses - in what manner the pious designs of those good men, who left us all - our publick lectures, are answered. Yesterday morning at nine a clock - the bell went as usually for a lecture; whether a rhetorical or - logical one, I cannot tell; but I went to the schools, big with hopes - of being instructed in one or the other, and having saunter’d a pretty - while along the quadrangle, impatient of the lecturer’s delay, I ask’d - the major (who is an officer belonging to the schools) whether it was - usual now and then to slip a lecture or so: his answer was that he had - not seen the face of any lecturer in any faculty, except in poetry and - musick, for three years past; that all lectures besides were entirely - neglected.... Every morning in term time there ought to be a divinity - lecture in the divinity school; two gentlemen of our house went one - day to hear what the learned professor had to say upon that subject: - these two were join’d by another master of arts, who without arrogance - might think that they understood divinity enough to be his auditors; - and that consequently his lecture would not have been lost upon them: - but the doctor thought otherwise, who came at last, and was very much - surprized to find that there was an audience. He took two or three - turns about the school, and then said, ‘Magistri vos non estis idonei - auditores; praeterea, juxta legis doctorem Boucher, tres non faciunt - collegium--valete;’ and so went away. Now it is monstrous, that - notwithstanding these publick lectures are so much neglected, we are, - all of us, when we take our degrees, charg’d with and punish’d for - non-appearance at the reading of many of them; a formal dispensation - is read by our respective deans, at the time our grace is proposed, - for our non-appearance at these lectures, and it is with difficulty - that some grave ones of the congregation are induced to grant it. - Strange order! that each lecturer should have his fifty, his hundred, - or two hundred pounds a year for doing nothing, and that we (the young - fry) should be obliged to pay money for not hearing such lectures as - were never read, nor ever composed....†- -In the face of personal experience of this kind how is it possible to -believe that to obtain a degree was anything but a question of independent -work or the judicious administration of “pourboiresâ€? To attend at the -right hour for a lecture which was never read, to be fined for -non-attendance, and finally to have great difficulty in persuading the -authorities to sign the necessary dispensation is a Gilbertian absurdity. -No other instance more striking than this letter can be found in all the -eighteenth-century chronicles of the attitude of Dons towards the -Undergraduates in their charge. Once certain of their annual stipend their -duties went by the board; and the Dons, whether lecturers or Heads of -colleges, whether they knew each other personally or not, banded together -to ensure their own safety, and signed to a lie in regard to the -delivering of lectures with the utmost unconcern. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining--College - Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the Magdalen Dons--Heads - of colleges--Their domestic and public character--Golgotha and Ben - Numps--St John’s Head pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and - Randolph. - - -After the lecture comes the examination, so the examiner shall be the next -in line. Now the examiners were appointed by the senior Proctor, who -administered to them the following oath: “That they will either examine, -or hear examined, all candidates that fall to their lot, in those arts and -sciences, and in such manner as the statute requires. Likewise that they -will not be prevailed upon by entreaties, or bribes, or hatred or -friendship, or hope or fear, to grant any one a _testimonium_, who does -not deserve it, or to deny it to any one that does.†The examiners were, -however, in the same parlous condition as the lecturers and tutors. - -The most mild of all the adverse criticisms was that of Henry Fynes -Cliton, who was at the House in 1799. He said that the examiners -discouraged Undergraduates from making a wide choice of authors for their -schools, and that if any one anxious for first-class honours took an -author not included in the abbreviated list as given out by them, they -would find a way to stop him from obtaining the coveted class. - -This entirely bears out the statement of Amhurst, who said that the -examiners were entirely ignorant of the subjects in which they examined, -and that the whole system was a farce and a scandal. - -“How well the examiners perform their duty,†he wrote with almost -apathetic resignation, “I leave to God and their own consciences; tho’ my -shallow apprehension cannot reconcile their taking a solemn oath, that -they will not be prevail’d upon by entreaties or bribes, or friendship, -etc., with their actually receiving bribes, and frequently granting -_testimoniums_ to unworthy candidates, out of personal friendship and -bottle acquaintance. It is a notorious truth, that most candidates get -leave of the proctor, by paying his man a crown (which is called his -perquisite) to choose their own examiners, who never fail to be their old -cronies and toping companions. The question therefore is, whether it may -not be strongly presumed from hence, that the candidates expect more -favour from these men, than from strangers; because otherwise it would be -throwing away a crown to no purpose; and if they do meet with a favour -from them, _quaere_ whether the examiner is not prevail’d upon by -intreaties or friendship.†- -Another method of procedure then very popular was for the examiner to -receive “a piece of gold†or an “handsome entertainment†from each of the -candidates, or else to be made drunk by him the night before the -examination. The candidate took care to provide sufficient drink to keep -his man occupied busily till morning, and then they adjourned, “cheek by -joul,†from their drinking room to the school. “_Quaere_†demanded Terrae -Filius again, “whether it would not be very ungrateful of the examiner to -refuse any candidate a _testimonium_, who has treated him so splendidly -over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail’d upon by -bribes?†- -Vicesimus Knox of St John’s made very much the same statements about the -examiners, and added that during the time when they were closeted with the -candidates in the schools they did nothing but discuss the latest drinking -bout (which took place the night before), or talk horses, or read -newspapers and novels till the clock struck eleven--when they all -descended, and the _testimonium_ was signed without a twinge of -conscience. - -But college Fellowship was, perhaps, one of the most abused offices in -existence. Once nominated to a Fellowship, however unfit to occupy the -position, a Don was settled for life. He had a fixed income, did no work, -and worried about nothing but to retain his own particular corner chair at -the King’s Head tavern or elsewhere. He stagnated for the rest of his -natural life, and became gross by dint of perpetual drinking. On the sad -subject of college Fellows T. J. Hogg, writing of Shelley at Oxford, told -us that at the end of the eighteenth century, - -“If a few gentlemen were admitted to Fellowships, they were always absent; -they were not persons of literary pretensions, or distinguished by -scholarship; and they had no more share in the government of the college -than the overgrown guardsman.... - -“A total neglect of all learning, an unseemly turbulence, the most -monstrous irregularities, open and habitual drunkenness, vice, and -violence, were tolerated or encouraged, with the basest sycophancy, that -the prospect of perpetual licentiousness might fill the colleges with -young men of fortune; whenever the rarely exercised power of coercion was -exerted, it demonstrated the utter incapacity of our unworthy rulers by -coarseness, ignorance, and injustice.†- -Terrae Filius devoted one chapter, peculiarly conspicuous for its lack of -satirical venom, to the dissection of Fellows. His article was occasioned -by a report in all the papers of the death of Dr Pudsey, one of the senior -Fellows of “Maudlin College (who) died there last week aged near an -hundred years.†“This,†said Amhurst, “gives me an opportunity of -discoursing upon what I have always thought one great error in the -constitution of most colleges; which I will do with only this preface, -that I hope no body will think I design, in what I shall say, to reflect -on the deceas’d old gentleman before mention’d. The original design of -endowing colleges was undoubtedly this, to support such persons as could -not bear the charges of a learned education themselves, till they were -able to shift in the world, and become serviceable to their country; for -this reason all scholars and fellows (of most colleges at least) are -obliged to take an oath, that they are not worth so much per annum _de -proprio_, in some colleges more, and in some less; but in all colleges the -meaning of the oath is the same, that no person shall benefit of the -foundation who can live without it; but this oath, like other oaths, is -commented away, and interpreted so loosely, that, at present it does not -exclude persons of four or five hundred pounds a year.... When any person -is chosen fellow of a college, he immediately becomes a freeholder, and is -settled for life in ease and plenty; provided only that he conforms -himself to the ceremonies and caprices of the place, which very few will -stick at, who delight in such an indolent and recluse state; at first, -indeed, he is obliged to perform some insignificant, superficial -exercises, and to get a few questions and answers in the sciences by rote, -to qualify him for his degrees; but when these are obtain’d, he wastes the -rest of his days in luxury and idleness; he enjoys himself, and is dead to -the world; for a senior fellow of a college lives and moulders away in a -supine and regular course of eating, drinking, sleeping, and cheating the -juniors.... In many colleges the fellowships are so considerable, that no -preferment can tempt some persons to leave them; they prefer this -monastic, and (as they call it) retired life to any employment, in which -they would be obliged to take some pains, and do some good.†- -Such remarks from the mouth of Terrae Filius are indeed quiet, but -however lacking in sparkle, they are filled with the truth. Turn where we -may, on every hand, the Fellows of colleges are written down and left -without one saving quality. - -The state of Magdalen, as related by Gibbon, was no better and no worse -than that of any other college. “The fellows or monks of my time,†-according to him, “were decent, easy men, who supinely enjoyed the gifts -of the founder; their days were filled by a series of uniform employments; -the chapel and the hall, the coffee-house and the common room, till they -retired, weary and well satisfied, to a long slumber. From the toil of -reading, or thinking, or writing, they had absolved their conscience; and -the first shoots of learning and ingenuity withered on the ground, without -yielding any fruits to the owners or the public. As a gentleman commoner, -I was admitted to the society of the fellows, and fondly expected that -some questions of literature would be the amusing and instructive topics -of their discourse. Their conversation stagnated in a round of college -business, Tory politics, personal anecdotes, and private scandal; their -dull and deep potations excused the brisk intemperance of youth; and their -constitutional toasts were not expressive of the most lively loyalty for -the house of Hanover.... The example of the senior fellows could not -inspire the undergraduates with a liberal spirit or studious -emulation.â€[27] - -The common room, with its accompaniments of tobacco and liquor, formed the -scene in which the greater portion of their parts was acted by the -Fellows; for the rest, the taverns and coffee-houses, where the meetings -of jovial societies, of which they were members, were held. By way of -exercise, an occasional horse ride; nothing more. Their other chief hobby -was, in the language of the time, “wenching.†Amazingly enough, they -still had sufficient energy, after living such a life, to array themselves -in all their glory, and sally forth to pay homage at the feet of the toast -of the day. In their attempts to cut out the Smarts in the affections of -the reigning queen, Merton Wall and Paradise Gardens saw them daily. -_Liaisons_ with their neighbour’s wives, bedmakers, and bedmaker’s -daughters were everyday occurrences; so openly, indeed, were these things -done, that songs were composed in various clubs of the doings of certain -Fellows mentioned by name, and satirical poems were written about them; -but there the matter ended. - -The character of a Head of a college, taken “in a more private view, -amongst their fellows in their respective colleges,†was thus delineated -by Amhurst. “A director or scull of a college is a lordly strutting -creature, who thinks all beneath him created to gratify his ambition and -exalt his glory; he commands their homage by using them very ill; and -thinks the best way to gain their admiration is to pinch their bellies and -call them names, as the most tyrannical princes have always the most loyal -subjects; he is very vicious and immoral himself, and therefore will not -pardon the least trip or miscarriage in another; he is a great profligate, -and consequently a great disciplinarian; he petrifies in fraud and -shamelessness, and is never properly in his element but when he is either -committing wickedness himself, or punishing the commission of it in -others.†So much for his domestic character. In the exercise of his public -functions he was one of a gang who “have as persidiously broken as great a -trust reposed in them by the Government, the nobility, gentry, and -commonality of England; that, under pretence of advancing national -religion and learning, they have introduced national irreligion and -ignorance; and instead of promoting loyalty and peace have encouraged -treason and disturbance; that they have debauched the principles of youth -instead of reforming them; that they have been guilty of wicked and -infamous practices of all sorts; ought they not, likewise, to be punish’d -in the most rigorous manner?†- -Amhurst found this a very sore subject, for, later on, he bore out the -theory of the promotion of ignorance, and said that they did their utmost -to prevent learning. “Whatever portion of commonsense they possess -themselves, they take especial care to keep it from those under their -tuition, having innumerable large volumes by them, written on purpose to -obscure the understanding of their pupils, and to obliterate or confound -all those impressions of right or wrong which they bring with them to the -universities; their several systems of logic, metaphysics, ethics, and -divinity are calculated for this design, being fill’d up with inconsistent -notions, dark cloudy terms, and unintelligible definitions, which tend not -to instruct, but to perplex, to put out the light of reason, not to assist -or strengthen it; and to palliate falsehood, not to discover truth.†- -As further evidence of the amazing egoism and brutality of “Sculls,†it is -worth while to quote the story of a Head of Balliol who held office in -these times. “A young fellow of Balliol College having, upon some -discontent, cut his throat very dangerously, the master of the college -sent his servitor to the buttery book to sconce (that is, fine) him five -shillings, and, says the doctor, tell him that the next time he cuts his -throat I’ll sconce him ten!†- -Whenever there was important academical business afoot the Vice-Chancellor -and Sculls met in solemn conclave in Golgotha, the state room in the -Clarendon building. The room was handsomely decorated and wainscotted. The -wainscot was said to have been put up by order of a man of humour who went -up to Oxford for a degree without “any claim or recommendation.†He -promised, however, in exchange for the degree to become a benefactor of -the university. The Sculls thereupon hurriedly engaged workmen who began -running up the wainscot, and they “clapp’d a degree upon his back.†But as -soon as the degree had been granted, the benefactor disappeared, and the -Sculls were left to pay the workmen with money out of their own -pockets--which, of course, had been previously plundered from the -university. - -It was in this room that all the weighty business of the university was -conducted. In the amusing words of Amhurst, “if any sermon is preach’d, if -any public speech or oration is deliver’d in derogation of the church, or -the university, or in vindication of the Protestant succession, or the -Bishop of Bangor, hither the delinquent is summon’d to answer for his -offence, and receive condign punishment. In short, all matters of -importance are cognisable before this tribunal: I will instance only one, -but that very remarkable. A day or two before the late Queen died, a -letter was brought to the post-office at Oxford, with these words upon the -outside of it, _we hear the queen is dead_; which, being suspected to -contain something equally mischievous within, was stopt, and carried to -the Vice-Chancellor, who immediately summon’d his brethren to meet him at -Golgotha about a matter of the utmost consequence: when they were -assembled together he produced the letter before them; and having open’d -it, read the contents of it in an audible voice; which were as follow:-- - - - “‘ST JOHN’S COLLEGE, _July 30, 1714_. - - “‘HONOURED MOTHER,--I receaved the Cheshear chease you sent ma by - Roben Joulthead, our waggoner, and itt is a vary gud one, and I thanck - you for itt, mother, with all my hart and soale, and I promis to be a - gud boy, and mind my boock, as yow dezired ma. I am a rising lad, - mother, and have gott prefarment in college allready; for our sextoun - beeing gonn intoo Heryfoordshear to see his frends, he has left mee - his depoty, which is a vary good pleace. I have nothing to complayne - off, onely that John Fulkes the tailor scores me upp a penny strong a - moost everyday; but I’ll put a stopp to it shortly, I worrant ye: I - beleave I shall do vary well, if you wull but send me t’other crowne; - for I have spent all my mony at my fresh treat (as they caul itt) - which is an abominable ecstortion, but I coud not help itt; when I cum - intoo the country, I’le tell you all how it is. So no more att this - present: but my sairvice to our parson, and my love to brother Nick - and sister Kate; and so I rest.--Your ever dutiful and obedient son, - - “‘BENJAMIN NUMPS.’ - -“When he had done reading, the Sculls look’d very gravely upon one another -for some time, till at length Dr Faustus, late of New college, got up and -spoke to them in the following manner:-- - - “‘GENTLEMEN,--The words of this letter are so very plain and - intelligible in themselves, that I wish there is no latent and - mysterious meaning in them. How do we know what he means by the - cheese, which he thanks his mother for? or how do we know that he - means nothing else by it, but a cheese? Then, he desires his mother to - send him t’other crown; now what, I conjure you all tell me, can he - mean by that other crown but the elector of Hanover; especially as he - tells us on the outside of his letter that the _queen is dead_? These - rebels and roundheads are very fly in everything they do; they know we - have a strict eye over them; and therefore if this Benjamin Numps - should be one of them, and have any such ill designs in his head, to - be sure, if he expected to succeed, he would not express himself to be - understood. So that, with all submission to my reverend brethren, I - think that we ought to sift this matter thoroughly, for fear of the - worst;’ and sat down.†- -A gentleman referred to as Father William then rose to reply. The grave Dr -Faustus did not overawe him as he overawed the rest. Father William, in -scathingly sarcastic language, told him that he was a fool, a John o’ -dreams, always suspecting mischief where none was meant. “Who but you,†he -said, “would ever have suspected treason in a Cheshire cheese?†The man -Numps, he explained to the reverend Sculls, was simply a poor servitor but -lately entered into his own college, who had not the brains necessary to -think out any plot. Therefore the fellow was sent for. He entered, -trembling in every limb at the sight of all these learned authorities -sitting in solemn conclave, and acknowledged his fault “full of sorrow and -contrition,†and humbly asked their pardon. - - * * * * * - -Such was the characteristic manner in which the Heads ruled the -university, and the above incident is a typical instance of the weighty -business which arose from day to day. They were the counterpart of the -Pharisees, who strained at gnats and swallowed camels. In connection with -the headship of St John’s College there existed a rather curious custom. -The Don elected to the Presidentship led the whole college, arrayed in -fullest academical garb, down to Christ Church, where they did homage. -Dibdin related that when Dr Marlowe succeeded to the President’s Chair of -St John’s College they were received at the “House†by Dr Cyril Jackson, -then Dean of Christ Church. After the performance of what Dibdin calls a -“humbling piece of vassalage†which was conducted with great pomp and -formality, the members of St John’s returned, and were duly regaled with a -sumptuous repast by the newly-elected President who went to the various -common rooms--the masters by themselves, the bachelors by themselves, and -the scholars and commoners each in their particular banqueting room. There -he drank wine with them, and was loudly toasted. “I remember one forward -freshman,†said Dibdin, “shouting aloud on this memorable occasion as the -new President retreated-- - - “‘Nunc est bibendum; nunc pede libero - Pulsanda tellus!’ - -“The stars of midnight twinkled upon our orgies; but this was a day never -to come again. Dr Marlowe sat for thirty-three years in the Presidental -Chair.â€[28] - -Having read accounts of all the pompous, evil-living and unpopular Heads -for whom nobody had a good word, it is refreshing to come across records -of thoroughly-liked men like Dr Marlowe of St John’s and Dr Randolph of -Corpus, of whom R. L. Edgeworth sang the praises. “Dr Randolph,†he said, -“was at that time (1761) president of Corpus Christi College. With great -learning, and many excellent qualities, he had some singularities, which -produced nothing more injurious from his friends than a smile. He had the -habit of muttering upon the most trivial occasions, _mors omnibus -communis!_ One day his horse stumbled upon Maudlin bridge, and the -resigned president let his bridle go, and drawing up the waistband of his -breeches as he sat bolt upright, he exclaimed before a crowded audience, -_mors omnibus communis!_ The same simplicity of character appeared in -various instances, and it was mixed with a mildness of temper, that made -him generally beloved by the young students. The worthy doctor was -indulgent to us all, but to me in particular upon one occasion, where I -fear that I tried his temper more than I ought to have done. The gentlemen -commoners were not obliged to attend chapel on any days but Sunday and -Thursday; I had been too frequently absent, and the president was -determined to rebuke me before my companions. ‘Sir,’ said he to me as we -came out of chapel one Sunday, ‘you _never_ attend Thursday prayers!’ ‘I -do _sometimes_, sir,’ I replied. ‘I did not see you last Thursday. And, -sir,’ cried the president, rising into anger, ‘I will have nobody in my -college’ (ejaculating a certain customary noise, something between a cough -and the sound of a postman’s horn), ‘sir, I will have nobody in my college -that does not attend chapel. I did not see you at chapel last Thursday.’ -‘Mr President,’ said I, with a most profound reverence, ‘it was impossible -that you should see me, for you were not there yourself.’ Instead of being -more exasperated by my answer, the anger of the good old man fell -immediately. He recollected and instantly acknowledged, that he had not -been in chapel on that day. It was the only Thursday on which he had been -absent for three years. Turning to me with great suavity, he invited me to -drink tea that evening with him and his daughter. This indulgent -president’s good humour made more salutary impression on the young men he -governed than has ever been effected by the morose manners of any -unrelenting disciplinarian.â€[29] - -Dr Randolph, Dr Marlowe, and the tutor of _The Loiterer_ are the only -three men whom I have been able to discover whose integrity was beyond -question. Three out of a whole century of Dons explains many things! It -proves the truth of the grave charges of vice, irreligion and perpetual -sloth brought against the Dons of the century, by every writer of the -time. It explains the bad government of colleges, general licentiousness, -and scholastic negligence which were the main characteristics of Georgian -Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of a - degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from Black - Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Izaak Walton and the senior - Proctor--Amhurst’s character sketch of a certain Proctor. - - -The Proctor and his bull-dogs (entailing sudden scuttlings down side -streets, which, if abortive, lead to the nine o’clock string outside that -gentleman’s door, and the unwilling disbursement of goodly sums--the fine -for being out of college at an unstatutable hour was 40s.!--because -forsooth, a man had the misfortune to cross his path without being arrayed -in statutable garb), loomed darkly on the eighteenth-century skyline. -Wrapped in the safe embrace of trencher and gown it was possible to watch -the great Proctors - - “... march in state - With velvet sleeves and scarlet gown, - Some with white wigs so hugely grown - They seem to ape in some degree - The dome of Radcliffe’s Library.†- -It was the redoubtable senior Proctor who was the guardian of the Black -Book, the register of the university, in which he recorded the name of any -person who affronted him or the university. The mere inscription of a name -in the Proctor’s book may not seem a very fearful punishment, but it takes -on a darker aspect when it is discovered that no person so recorded might -proceed to his degree till he had given satisfaction to the Proctor who -had put him in. Amhurst explained that the Black Book into which the -Proctors put anybody “at whom, whether justly or not, they shall take -offence ... was at first design’d to punish refractory persons and immoral -offenders; but at present it is made use of to vent party spleen and is -fill’d up with whigs, constitutioners, and bangorians. So long as the -university has this rod in her hand, it is no wonder that high-church -triumphs over her most powerful adversaries; nor can we be at all -surpriz’d that Whiggism declines with the constitution club in Oxford, -when we behold people stigmatiz’d in the Black Book, and excluded from -their degrees for soberly rejoicing upon King George’s birthnight, and -drinking his majesty’s health.†- -The question of making satisfaction to the Proctor who had inscribed a -name in that “dreadful and gloomy volume†was, in many cases at least, a -difficult and lengthy proceeding. The Merton Undergraduate, Meadowcourt, -who, as Steward of the Constitution Club, prevailed upon the Proctor to -join in drinking King George’s health, was prevented for two years from -taking his degree. The “binge†was a quite considerable affair. Party -feeling ran high, and the Charles II. partisans gathered in their hundreds -outside the tavern in which the Constitutioners had foregathered. Amid -booing and hissing, they threw lighted squibs in at the windows. In a -subsequent interview with Mr Holt, the Proctor, Meadowcourt, having -apologised, learned that as far as Holt was concerned he had nothing -further to fear, but that Holt’s brother Proctor, Mr White of Christ -Church, was vastly incensed, and had desired that “the power of taking -cognisance of, and proceeding against all that was done that night, might -be placed in his hands.†To this Holt had agreed. Consequently Meadowcourt -found himself compelled to seek out Mr White. The interview was short and -stormy, the Proctor being in “an ungovernable passion, insomuch that he -often brandished his arm at him.†- -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE.] - -Out of the doings of that adventurous, amusing and wholly reprehensible -evening the proctor White concocted the following charges which were duly -recorded in the Black Book, in all their pompous length:-- - - “_June 28th, 1716._ - - “Let Mr Carty of university College be kept from his degree, for which - he stands next, for the space of one whole year. - - “1. For prophaning, with mad intemperance, that day, on which he - ought, with sober chearfulness, to have commemorated the restoration - of King Charles the second and the royal family, nay, of monarchy - itself, and the church itself. - - “2. For drinking in company with those persons, who insolently boast - of their loyalty to King George, and endeavour to render almost all - the university, besides themselves, suspected of dissaffection. - - “3. For calling together a great mob of people, as if to see a shew, - and drinking impious execrations, out of the tavern window, against - several worthy persons, who are the best friends to the church and the - king; by this means provoking the beholders to return them the same - abuses; from whence followed a detestable breach of the peace. - - “4. For refusing to go home to his college after nine o’clock at - night, though he was more than once commanded to do it, by the junior - proctor, who came thither to quell the riot. - - “5. For being catch’d at the same place again by the senior proctor, - and pretending, as he was admonish’d by him, to go home; but with a - design to drink again. - - “Let Mr Meadowcourt of Merton College be kept back from the degree - which he stands for next, for the space of two years; nor be admitted - to supplicate for his grace, until he confesses his manifold crimes, - and asks pardon upon his knees. - - “Not only for being an accomplice with Mr Carty in all his faults (or - rather crimes), but also, - - “7. For being not only a companion, but likewise a remarkable abetter - of certain officers, who ran up and down the High Street with their - swords drawn, to the great terror of the townsmen and scholars. - - “8. For breaking out to that degree of impudence (when the proctor - admonish’d him to go home from the tavern at an unseasonable hour) as - to command all the company with a loud voice, to drink King George’s - health. - - “JOH. W., _proc-jun._†- -In spite of the many entreaties on his behalf made by several -distinguished persons (“amongst whom were a most noble duke and a -marquisâ€) Meadowcourt was unable to obtain the remission of his sentence, -and was compelled to wait the full two years before he could proceed to -his degree. At the end of that time both the proctors concerned had -retired, and the Merton man, upon applying to the proctor then in office, -was informed that nothing could be done until both Holt and White had been -consulted. The unfortunate man went from one to the other for weeks. They -“bandied it about, sending Mr Meadowcourt upon sleeveless errands,†till, -at last, having jumbled their learned noddles together, they sent him a -paper containing the following articles, which they insisted should be -read by Mr Meadowcourt publicly in the Convocation House, before he might -proceed to his degree. - - “1. I do acknowledge all the crimes laid to my charge in the Black - Book, and that I deserved the punishment imposed on me. - - “2. I do acknowledge that the story of my being punish’d on account of - affection to King George, and his illustrious house, is unjust and - injurious, not only to the reputation of the proctor, but of the whole - university. - - “3. I do profess sincerely, that I do not believe that I was punish’d - on that account. - - “4. I am very thankful for the clemency of the university, in - remitting the ignominious part of the punishment, viz., begging pardon - on my knees. - - “5. I beg pardon of Almighty God, of the proctor, and all the masters, - for the offences which I have committed respectively against them; and - I promise that I will, by my future behaviour, make the best amends I - can, for having offended by the worst of examples.†- -Having fought the almighty proctors thus far Meadowcourt was not, however, -the man to give in to such an absurdly overwhelming piece of indignity as -that proposed. He refused to read the paper, resolving rather to go -without his degree. He was advised, however, to plead the Act of Grace, -which he did after many further checks and delays. He emerged finally from -the unequal conflict with victory and a degree. This case I think amply -justifies Amhurst’s assertion that the Black Book was used as a weapon -with which the proctors paid off personal insults and old scores, and the -injustice and abuse of the great power which they knew so cunningly how to -wield is only too apparent. - -The proctors, naturally enough, were vastly unpopular men and, supposedly, -realising this, did not go one iota out of their way to decrease the -general dislike attaching to them, but rather consoled themselves by -piling on the pains and penalties at every opportunity. The gownsmen were -not the only people who had a rooted objection to them on principle. Even -the townees and tradesmen regarded them with an unfriendly eye, and gave -them no assistance in the detection of Undergraduate delinquents. In -illustration of the light in which they were held by the townspeople -Amhurst related an amusing story. - -“A man who liv’d just by a pound in Oxford and kept an ale house put upon -his sign these words ‘_Ale sold here by the Pound_,’ which seduced a great -many young students to go thither out of curiosity to buy liquor, as they -thought, by weight; hearing of which, the vice-chancellor sent for the -landlord to punish him according to statute, which prohibits all ale house -keepers to receive scholars into their houses; but the fellow, being -apprehensive what he was sent for, as soon as he came into the -vice-chancellor’s lodgings, fell a spitting and a spawling about the room; -upon which the vice-chancellor ask’d him in an angry tone, what he meant -by that? - -“‘Sir,’ says the fellow, ‘I am come to clear myself.’ - -“‘Clear yourself, sirrah!’ says the vice-chancellor; ‘but I expect that -you should clear yourself in another manner; they say you sell ale by the -pound.’ - -“‘No, indeed, Mr Vice-chancellor,’ replies the fellow, ‘I don’t.’ - -“‘Don’t you,’ says the Vice-chancellor again, ‘how do you then?’ - -“‘Very well,’ replies he, ‘I humbly thank you, Mr Vice-chancellor; pray -how do you, sir?’ - -“‘Get you gone,’ says the vice-chancellor, ‘for a rascal’; and turned him -downstairs. - -“Away went the fellow and meeting with one of the proctors, told him that -the vice-chancellor desired to speak with him immediately; the proctor in -great haste went to know the vice-chancellor’s commands, and the fellow -with him, who told the vice-chancellor, when they came before him, that -here he was. - -“‘Here he is!’ says the vice-chancellor, ‘who is here?’ - -“‘Sir,’ says the impudent alehouse-keeper, ‘you bad me go for a Rascal; -and lo! here I have brought you one.’†- -The proctors had the appointment of the examiners, and once now and again -they paid a surprise visit in their official capacity to the schools, when -the examinations (such as they were) were in progress. This was, however, -a “rare and uncommon occurrence.†When prowling the streets in search of -whom they might devour their method was to search the coffee-houses and -smart establishments and give impositions to the “Bucks in boots†upon -whom they pounced. They left the ale-houses alone, or, in Tom Warton’s -words:-- - - “Nor Proctor thrice with vocal Heel alarms - Our Joys secure, nor deigns the lowly Roof - Of Pot-house snug to visit: wiser he - The splendid Tavern haunts, or Coffee-house....†- -Izaak Walton described the senior proctor in 1616 as one who “did not use -his power of punishing to an extremity; but did usually take their names, -and a promise to appear before him unsent for next morning: and when they -did convinced them with such obligingness, and reason added to it, that -they parted from him with such resolutions as the man after God’s own -heart was possessed with, when he said to God, There is mercy with thee, -and therefore thou shalt be feared (Psal. cxxx.). And by this, and a like -behaviour to all men, he was so happy as to lay down this dangerous -employment, as but few, if any have done, even without an enemy.†- -The proctorship was therefore a difficult post to fill even a full century -before Amhurst was born to set down in black and white the iniquities of -his own time. Izaak Walton’s proctor was the exception; Amhurst’s seems -to have been the rule, and his character is given by Terrae Filius as -follows:-- - -“... of Christ Church, a tool that was form’d by nature for vile and -villainous purposes, being advanced to the proctorship, publickly -declar’d, that no constitutioner should take a degree whilst he was in -power. This corrupt and infamous magistrate had formerly been under cure -for lunacy, and was now very far relaps’d into the same distemper. He was -naturally the most proud and insolent tyrant to his betters, who were -below him in the university; but to those above him the most mean and -creeping slave. He was peevish, passionate, and revengeful; loose and -profligate in his morals, though seemingly rigid and severe. In publick, a -serious and solemn hypocrite; in private, a ridiculous and lewd buffoon. -An impudent pretender to sanctity and conscience, which he always us’d as -a cloak for the most unjust and criminal actions. In short, he was so -worthless and despicable a fellow, and had so scandalously overacted his -part in his extravagant zeal against the constitution club, that at the -expiration of his proctorship, when he appear’d as candidate for the -professorship of history, there were not above ten persons, besides the -members of his own college who voted for him.†- -The anonymity of the blank space in front of the man’s college is not -sufficient to conceal the fact that this character sketch, a bitter and -pointed attack, was most probably meant for the Mr White who distinguished -himself in the Meadowcourt case. As, however, from many instances, he -appears to have been no better and no worse than the generality of -proctors during the century, there is no reason why Amhurst’s -denunciations should not be credited as descriptive of most of the others -of his kind. - -Modern Oxford has reason to congratulate herself that the reins of -government are no longer in such hands. There exist to-day none of the -abuses and vices which were so striking a feature of the eighteenth -century. They have all been swept away. Oxford has purged herself of them, -and in their place are to be found honesty, uprightness, and all the -cardinal virtues. The modern Don has nothing in common with his Georgian -predecessor. He relegates self to a discreet background, and devotes his -entire energies to the interests of those over whom he has authority; and -his pupils, on going down, harbour no feelings of contempt and -ill-feeling, but look on him instead as a man whose friendship is an -honour which must be treasured to the end. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards and - claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered afterwards--Edward - Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman - Catholic--Subsequent apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking - orders--Germs of ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism. - - -Academic Oxford of the eighteenth century has been thrown on to the screen -in different lights and from different sides. The Don, for the most part -inert in his elbow chair, puffing at his glazed pipe, with many bottles -and tankards at his elbow in the common room or the coffee-house; turning -up his nose at the impudence of any man who wanted to work; too lazy, and -in many cases too ignorant, to put skilful questions in the examinations; -abusing his trust as an examiner by receiving bribes, in the same manner -that he set the Undergraduates a lead in vice of all kinds outside the -schools; earnest and eager in political strife of the Vicar of Bray type; -keen on nothing but his own personal aggrandisement, either socially or -financially--in all these lights he has passed through the picture. We -have seen also the Undergraduate in all his class divisions--the humble -servitor receiving sixpence a week from each of his gentleman patrons, -doing the dirty work and odd jobs, keeping soul and body together on the -scraps that fell from the rich men’s table, writing out their impositions -and scraping an education in the meanwhile, God knows how; the gentleman -commoner and the Smart, swaggering it abroad in the glory of their purple -and fine linen, sneering at the dull regulars, cutting lectures and -chapels, doing no work, incurring enormous expenses “upon tick,†-following the example set by the Dons in drunkenness and wenching. We have -seen them amusing themselves, free from any kind of restriction, in -taverns, town and gown rows, on the river, in the cock-pit and the prize -ring, and dallying with the beauties under Merton Wall. - -Looking at all these things and to the general loose living which was the -keynote of the eighteenth century, we are apt to feel with Malmesbury that -it is a matter of surprise how so many of the Undergraduates made their -way so well and so creditably in the world. It has already been remarked -that the worth of Oxford lies not in the quality of the degree taken, but -in the education which environment and the association with better men -undoubtedly gives. The mere cramming of book knowledge would be useless -were it not accompanied by the far more important expansion of mind, the -broadening of outlook, and the formation of character brought about by the -social life of the university. This is palpably so in the case of the -eighteenth-century Undergraduate, since work was practically non-existent, -and a degree merely a matter of so much ready money. He could not do -anything else but take on the colour of the surroundings of vice and -intemperance which then reigned supreme. - -How is it then that any man emerged from the Oxford of this period and -succeeded in inscribing his name on the roll of fame? The reason is that -Oxford was a mirror in which was reflected London life. The metropolis was -simply Oxford on a larger scale, so that the Undergraduates were learning -at the university to do the things which would be expected of them in -after life; and the men who distinguished themselves at college were bound -to achieve renown later. The fame of such men as Charles Fox, the -pre-eminent statesman; Edward Gibbon, the historian; Malmesbury, the -diplomat; John Wesley, the founder of Methodism; Collins, the poet; and -the immortal Dr Johnson, is written down in the pages of history. - -Charles James Fox, one of the greatest statesmen England has ever seen, -came up from Eton to Hertford College[30] in 1764, where he was the -leading spirit in a little coterie which included James Harris, Earl of -Malmesbury, and William Eden, Baron Auckland. By his father he had been -initiated, while still at Eton, into the vice of gaming, by which he was -very deeply bitten. A still more curious fact is that although Fox as a -young man had no inclinations towards loose living he was taken over to -Paris and laughed into it by his otherwise doting parent. His innate force -of character, however, enabled him to resist what might have wrecked the -life of another man less strong, and although outwardly he was at Oxford -an idle gamester, yet in secret, in the small hours of the morning, he -worked exceedingly hard. Malmesbury has described this circle of friends -as a non-working, pleasure-loving body. Fox, as the leader of them, fell, -of course, under this category; but the results of his hours of private -grinding were quite extraordinary. He read “Aristotle’s ‘Ethics and -Politics,’ with an ease uncommon in those who have principally cultivated -the study of the Greek writers. His favourite authors were Longinus and -Homer, with the latter of whom he was particularly conversant; he could -discuss the works of the Ionian bard, not only as a man of exquisite -taste, and as a philosophical critic, which might be expected from a mind -like his, but also as a grammarian. He was indeed capable of conversing -with Longinus, on the beauty, sublimity, and pathos of Homer; with -Aristotle on his delineations of man, with a pedagogue on dactyls, -spondees, anapaests, and all the arcana of language. History, ethics, -politics, were, however, his particular studies.†- -Yet with all these accomplishments, which, in a period none too famous for -its learning, were all the more amazing, this extraordinary man was swayed -by his passion for gaming, and never behindhand in expeditions of debauch -with his companions. Cards were the favourite pastime then in vogue, and -it was round the baize-covered table that Fox cemented his friendship with -Malmesbury and Eden. These latter, both, subsequently, men of -international fame, also surrendered themselves completely to the -slackness of the time, and did their utmost to imitate with thoroughness -the London fops of whom they had some slight experiences before coming up. -While still gownsmen this triumvirate gave signs of their future -greatness. Their card parties were a centre of attraction, not because of -the high stakes for which they played, but for the wit and brilliance of -their conversation. Fox’s eloquence was even then remarkable, and he had -“no cotemporary so erudite in knowledge, none so elegant in mirth.†The -enormous possibilities of this Undergraduate were fully appreciated by the -college authorities. He was allowed to make trips to London, where, in the -company of his father, he went to the Houses of Parliament, and was a keen -listener at many of the great debates. When a proposal was on foot for Fox -to cross to Paris and make a stay of some months there, the Head of -Hertford granted him leave immediately with the unusual remark that such -application as his necessitated “some intermission; and you are the only -person with whom I have ever had connexion to whom I could say this.†- -With characteristic thoroughness Fox outdid the most complete Smart in the -elegance of his dress. He made a special journey from Paris to Lyons for -the purchasing of waistcoats, and on his return to England was seen in the -Mall “in a suit of Paris-cut velvet, most fancifully embroidered, and -bedecked with a large bouquet; a headdress cemented into every variety of -shape; a little silk hat, curiously ornamented; and a pair of French shoes -with red heels; for the latter article of which he considered it of no -mean consequence that he was indebted to his own exclusive importation!†- -He had a great fondness for literature and poetry and, following the -customs of the times, he used occasionally to dash off an indiscreet -sonnet, or a more sound criticism of the current publications. Italian, he -declared, contained as a language more good poetry in it than any with -which he was conversant. The essential quality in any subject was that it -should be “entertaining.†Without this, Fox refused to consider it. The -exact meaning which he read into the word is, however, somewhat difficult -to gather, for, writing to his friend Macarthey, he stated that he was -fond of mathematics and would concentrate upon it because it promised to -be entertaining. - -Oxford remained dear to Fox and the friendships he formed over the -card-table, and the various “rags†in which he took part were never -forgotten by him. When the triumvirate went down, their ways at first lay -separate. Eden’s time was occupied first in getting called to the Bar, and -then, through the patronage of the Duke of Marlborough, to Parliament as -member for Woodstock. Malmesbury, an incipient diplomatist while still at -Winchester, left England and joined the British Embassy at Madrid. Fox -left Oxford before the age of twenty-one, and was immediately returned to -Parliament for Midhurst. For some twenty years the tide of life kept the -three apart, each striving in his own quarter. Then in 1782 Fox, who had -climbed higher up the ladder of fame than either of the other two, was -reminded of the old friendships of his Undergraduate days. Malmesbury, -then Sir James Harris, Knight of the Bath, was invalided home from the -Embassy at St Petersburg, and was instantly appointed by Fox to be -Minister at the Hague. The year after this, Eden, whose political career -under the banner of Lord North was a distinguished one, came again into -touch with Fox, and exerted himself to bring about a coalition between his -own chief and his old Oxford friend. It is practically certain that the -touch of sentiment roused by the remembrance of the old days, when Eden -and he played cards and drank claret beneath the spires of Oxford, was the -only reason why the coalition was brought about by Eden, for Fox -afterwards publicly avowed in the House of Commons, when the rupture -between North and himself was final, that “the greatest folly of his life -was in having supported Lord North.†- - * * * * * - -“To the University of Oxford,†wrote Gibbon in after years, “I acknowledge -no obligation; and she will as cheerfully renounce me for a son as I am -willing to disclaim her for a mother. I spent fourteen months at Magdalen -College; they proved the fourteen months the most idle and unprofitable of -my whole life.†- -A boy of sixteen, thin and delicate, who from his earliest infancy had -fallen from one illness into another, possessed of an abnormal brain, and -for these two reasons shunning, and shunned by, his school-fellows both in -playground and classroom, and therefore compelled joyfully to fall back -upon books, with which he ate, drank, and slept--conceive such a boy, and -one sees Gibbon at Magdalen. Add to this the facts concerning the debauch, -the lack of “bookish fellows,†the gross and inert Dons, all of which -characterised the times, and it is easy to appreciate the reasons why a -man like Gibbon, a high-strung, dreamy creature to whom any crowd of human -beings inspired positive fear, and whose interests were entirely removed -from wenching, drinking, and gaming, received no benefit from Oxford. He -went up intent on nothing but the pursuit of knowledge. In the course of -his dealings with his various tutors--which have already been set forth in -a previous chapter--he found that knowledge was to be obtained neither in -the lecture rooms nor the common rooms. To these latter, being a gentleman -commoner, he received invitations and went high in the expectation of -learned conversations and brilliant dialogue. He found instead no subjects -under discussion save horses, drink, and political preferment. This -beardless boy, practically self-educated and big with ideas upon the -important subjects of life, turned with disgust from the society of the -“port bibbing†and stagnant Fellows. With no definite course of studies to -occupy his attentions, and unchecked by any authority, the unaccustomed -feeling of liberty swept him into the infringement of rules and statutes. -To his tutor he gave casual excuses for non-attendance at lectures, and -disappeared from Oxford for days at a time. The unscholarly condition of -the university, and his own physical inability to join in any athletic -pursuits, united in preventing Oxford from making any impression upon him. -Her history, her architecture, her traditions, seem to have held no -interest for him, and he was more interested in making expeditions to -London and places in the surrounding country than in remaining in the -university and studying Undergraduate life. Even the beauty of Oxford’s -old walls, tree-bordered lawns and walks, and winding river, made no -appeal to him. He was in sympathy with no single thing. It was a mistake -on his parents’ part ever to have sent him up. A man of Gibbon’s peculiar -temperament was entirely out of place in any university; more particularly -Oxford, in the state in which she then was. - -And yet in spite of the incompatibility between Gibbon and Oxford, his -university career was marked by an all-important incident in the -development of the great historian. By education and training he was a -Protestant, but, as was his habit with every subject to which he turned -his attention, he did not merely read books and swallow their contents as -indisputable facts. Everything he read was deeply pondered, made to pass -under his own criticism, and then compared with other authors on the -opposite side of the case. Consequently the subject of his own creed -underwent deep thought, and after reading Middleton’s “Free Enquiry into -the Miraculous Powers which are Supposed to have Subsisted in the -Christian Church,†Gibbon’s religious beliefs were shaken. He decided that -Protestantism was inconsistent; he was dissatisfied with it. Filled with -the restlessness engendered by uncertainty, Gibbon read many works, -including Bossuet’s “Variations of Protestantism†and “Exposition of -Catholic Doctrine,†and the writings of the Jesuit priest, Father Parsons. -“These works,†he said, “achieved my conversionâ€--the arguments in favour -of Roman Catholicism put forward by the Jesuit priest being the real -turning point in the scale. - -Having arrived at the conclusion that the Protestant religion paled into -insignificance before the Roman Catholic one, the Magdalen man felt that -he would know no happiness until he himself should join the ranks of the -“Papists.†For once his thoroughness deserted him. He did not consider the -question--and the question of a man’s entirely changing his religious -beliefs is a very vital one--with his usual exhaustiveness. Like a baby -with a new toy, Gibbon, the great and wonderful man of brain, world famous -and immortal, made a complete fool of himself. He rushed off to London -without more ado, and there, under the influence of a “momentary glow of -enthusiasm,†“privately abjured the heresies†of his childhood before a -certain Father Baker, also a Jesuit, and became a Roman Catholic. For the -moment his belief was red hot, and he wrote a burningly defiant letter to -his father announcing his change of creed. The elder Gibbon at once -provided an excuse for his being sent down (a circumstance which very -probably would have come about on the Magdalen Dons’ own initiative -without any excuse being offered to them), and packed him off to the care -of the Calvanistic minister at Lausanne, M. Pavilliard. The scattering of -the hastily-swallowed, undigested arguments which had brought about -Gibbon’s precipitate action, was a matter of a few months to M. -Pavilliard, and in less than two years he was once more a fully convinced -Protestant. The ex-Magdalen man’s _amour propre_ is fully demonstrated by -the unblushing assertion that although the Calvinist minister had “a -handsome share in his re-conversion,†yet it was principally brought about -“by his own solitary reflections.†Doubtless when he wrote those -statements he fully realised the extent and powers of his own brain, and -refused to admit that any ordinarily clever man could have, or ever did -have, any influence in swaying him from one point of view to another. One -is fully justified in assuming that had he not gone to a Calvinist -minister, but, instead, continued under the roof of a Jesuit priest, none -of the “philosophical arguments,†to which he refers so glibly, would have -availed him, and Edward Gibbon, historian, would have remained a Roman -Catholic to the end of his days. - - * * * * * - -“Lord, let me not live to be useless!†was the constant prayer of John -Wesley, and it was the keynote of his character. The founder of the -Methodists, famous throughout the civilised world, and a man whose -personal magnetism and great brain were bound to bring him to the fore in -whatever profession he might have chosen, was actuated by a consuming -dread of being considered useless. A desire to achieve great things was -fostered during his Undergraduate days at Christ Church. He went there -with a sound knowledge of Hebrew, and began to achieve some note for his -skill in logic. This was the beginning of the growth of ambition, and the -fact that he was “noticed for his attainments†brought him great pleasure, -for at all times he bubbled over with humour and good spirits in full -realisation of his college notoriety. In consequence of this his -reluctance at taking orders, when proposed by his family, was marked. He -argued the question with himself fully while pacing his rooms at night, -and he wrote to his father and explained his reluctance. It is conceivable -that the life as led by gentleman commoners, with its wine parties, wild -escapades, and general moral carelessness may have been the reason of -Wesley’s hesitation. For this clever, amusing lad was popular in his -college, and invited to take part in all the jollifications. Be that as it -may, the question of devoting his life to religion was a difficult one. -Wesley’s self-examination, assisted by his father’s scorn of becoming a -“callow clergyman,†was doubtless attended by silent questionings as to -what was his speciality. The atmosphere and traditions of Oxford had laid -hold of him. The names of great men, sons of _Alma mater_, filled him with -the desire to emulate them, to excel them even. Their names were spoken in -awe and admiration. Why should not his be also? He was brilliantly clever, -of a clever family, and already had tasted the joys of fame in however -humble a manner. Why should he have to follow his father’s lead and enter -the Church? Could he not do better for himself outside? Undoubtedly, for -there was more scope, less subjection to rules and orders, more individual -power. But, on the other hand, these speculations and desires to break -away were held in check by filial respect and love. His father and mother -were keenly desirous of his embracing a clerical life, and his mother -especially was of opinion that the sooner he entered into deacon’s orders -the better, as it would be an additional inducement to “greater -application in the study of practical divinity.†- -[Illustration: STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH.] - -Wesley, therefore, looked facts in the face and concentrated his whole -mind upon the study of theology. Since he could not be Prime Minister, he -would be a great religious man. He began by disagreeing with “The -Imitation of Christ,†and held views on the question of humility which -lead one to believe that by this time the seeds of his ambition had grown -to trees. Jeremy Taylor’s tenet, that we ought, “in some sense or other, -to think ourselves the worst in every company where we come,†was flatly -contradicted by Wesley, who, although admitting absolute humility to God, -reserved the right to consider himself a better man than many another; for -when he was elected a Fellow of Lincoln, after he had been ordained, he -practically showed the door to all those of his visitors whom he thought -would do him no good, by reason of their not loving or fearing God. Then -an incident happened which had a lasting effect upon Wesley; which changed -his whole life. He travelled over to see what was called “a serious man.†-Who this man was is unknown, but he was a student of psychology and a man -of keen intuition. He summed up John Wesley, and gave forth the remark -which had so great an influence upon him. “Sir,†he said, “you wish to -serve God and go to Heaven. Remember, you cannot serve Him alone; you -must, therefore, _find_ companions or _make_ them: the Bible knows nothing -of solitary religion.†- -Wesley never forgot these words. They were the turning-point in his -career. His vast brain and desire to become the greatest of God’s servants -would not allow him to be merely a curate in the Established Church, thus -to serve God humbly. Even the chance of his eventually emerging as -Archbishop was not sufficiently big. Neither was the Roman Church large -enough, though from his characteristics it is conceivable that he was in -sympathy with the love of power which, in olden times, is said to have -marked out the Jesuits. The words of this “serious man†gave him furiously -to think. He would make companions, followers, disciples. He, himself, -would become greater than any of the men discussed by his fellow -Undergraduates by taking over the leadership of a band of religious and -ascetic men, who should occupy themselves solely in carrying out the -commands of God. - -Already his piety and zeal were much discussed in Oxford, for he led the -way to George Whitefield in attending the Sacrament daily and doing -charitable works. His younger brother, Charles, had formed the nucleus of -a religious order by meeting weekly with two or three serious-minded -friends and discussing religion. When John Wesley returned to Lincoln -after an absence of some two years, during which he had had time to think -out matters while filling a country curacy, these lads put themselves -under his leadership. It was the first taste of power and individual -authority. He ruled the little band sternly, put their practices into -order and method, and secured an “accession of members.†He submitted -himself to rigorous fasts, and cultivated an eccentric appearance by -letting his hair grow. Even his brother, Samuel, himself really religious, -perceived that he “excited injurious prejudices against himself, by -affecting singularity in things which were of no importance.†His mother -suggested cutting his hair off, but the money could not be spared from -Wesley’s charities. His brother put forward that it should be merely -reduced in length. This Wesley agreed to, and it is recorded that “this -was the only instance in which he condescended, in any degree, to the -opinions of others.†- -The culminating instance of his egoism lies in his absolute refusal, in -spite of his father’s earnest entreaty, to take on his _cure_ at the -latter’s death. He considered the proposal “not so much with reference to -his utility, as to his own well-being in spiritual things.†The question, -as it appeared to him, was not whether he could do more good to others -there or at Oxford, but whether he could do more good to himself, seeing -that wherever he could be most holy himself, there he could most promote -holiness. He decided that he could improve himself more at Oxford than at -any other place, and at Oxford, therefore, he determined to remain. His -father wrote to him, “if you are not indifferent whether the labours of an -aged father, for above forty years in God’s vineyard, be lost, and the -fences of it trodden down and destroyed; if you consider that Mr M. must -in all probability succeed me if you do not, and that in prospect of that -mighty Nimrod’s coming hither shocks my soul, and is in a fair way of -bringing down my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave; if you have any care -for our family, which must be dismally shattered as soon as I am dropt; if -you reflect on the dear love and longing which this poor people has for -you, whereby you will be enabled to do God the more service, and the -plenteousness of the harvest, consisting of near two thousand souls, -whereas you have not many more souls in the university--you may, perhaps, -alter your mind and bend your will to His, who has promised if in all our -ways we acknowledge Him, He will direct our paths.†- -In the face of this stirring appeal from an aged father what did Wesley -reply? He refused absolutely to entertain the matter. His -self-centredness, the while he directed the religious beliefs and -operations of the small body of disciples at Oxford, made him forget all -considerations of filial duty and love and of God’s commands to obedience. -His parents had been the reason of his entering the Church. He would make -no further sacrifice for them now that he saw his way clear. His father, -mother, the thousands of poor people--nobody and nothing mattered except -that he should make himself more holy! The petty duties, worries, and -cares, the continual small demands of trifling points entailed by such a -curacy were too small for this striving, all-conquering spirit. What -mattered it that he should send his father’s grey hairs down in sorrow to -the grave? - -All this while, he was most certainly turning over the saying of the -“serious manâ€--to _make_ followers. On his father’s death it was proposed -that he should go to America. Here was his great chance. Oxford had taught -him that to expect to make English people, in their then blind and vicious -state, see the truth of the gospel of Christ, was futile and childish. He -was a prophet in his own country. But America, with all its -unsophisticated, raw children, its ripeness for a strong man to come with -the gift of oratory and sweep the country from end to end--there was his -chance! And afterwards, on the crest of his fame and success, then would -he convert England. His glory would have preceded him, and he would return -as one already great, to whom they would lend a more willing ear. But with -the astuteness of a really clever man, he peremptorily refused the offer -to send him out there. As a natural result the proposers of the scheme -argued. By degrees he allowed his willingness to be seen, though he -piously pointed out that as he was his mother’s support, the staff of her -age, he could not go without her consent. This she immediately gave, as he -well knew she would. Accordingly, filled with exultation, buoyed up by a -feeling of certainty as to his ultimate success, John Wesley left Oxford -and England for the new country on which he intended to stamp his -personality, and by whose conquest he was determined to hand down his name -to posterity in the profession to which he had reconciled himself at the -age of some nineteen years while still an Undergraduate of Christ Church. - -Had Wesley not gone up to Oxford, his name might never have been added to -the list of England’s famous men. It was Oxford which first showed him the -narrowness of a small curacy, Oxford which set him contemplating -greatness, Oxford which actually started him in command of disciples. -Therefore it is to Oxford that must be attributed the foundation, growth, -and fame of Methodism, the means by which John Wesley attained his ends, -power, and celebrity. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work--Oxford kills - his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely - freshman--Translates Pope’s _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from - poverty--Dr Adam, his tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of - showing off--His love of Pembroke. - - -William Collins has been claimed as the greatest lyric poet of the -eighteenth century. But, as is so often the case with famous men, his -genius during his life time received no recognition. It was only when the -world learned of his death, after he has been removed from a madhouse, -that his few works began to come in for the notice which they deserved. -Perhaps one of the reasons that life brought him no triumphant successes -was the fact that he knew not how to work; and the blame of this -undoubtedly falls upon Oxford. Whilst at school Collins worked steadfastly -both in the matter of examinations and independent poems. It was at -Winchester that he wrote his _Persian Eclogues_, and in proof of his -capacity for study he headed the list for nomination to an Oxford college, -which included Warton and Whitehead. Oxford caused him to dwindle into a -mere dilettante, a Smart, although he was accused falsely of bringing with -him from school “a sovereign contempt for all academic studies and -discipline.†The beginning of his Undergraduate life was marked by his -strutting about in fine clothes with a feather in his cap, and running up -heavy bills at the booksellers and tailors. The steady reading which he -must have got through to enable him to head the school list was now -laughed at. No one else did any work. Why should he? The Dons at Magdelen -did not enforce the college exercises, and those which Collins -condescended to put in showed signs of great genius and great indolence. -The atmosphere of slacking, and card and wine parties which prevailed in -the university seized hold of Collins, and he indulged himself to the -full. - -From time to time the poetry that was in him overflowed in an ode or two, -but he was delighted to be interrupted by some genial friend in the middle -of his work, and there the poem would be left. He frequented parties -daily, entering thoroughly into the spirit of flippancy which -characterised all his smart friends. He loved to be the centre of -attraction, to talk and laugh and jest with a circle of admirers. Those -who did not think as he did were dubbed “damned dull fellows.†The -complete liberty enjoyed by him as a gownsman killed the habit of work so -forcibly inculcated at his school. No sooner did he sit down in his rooms -to read than the thought of a call that he must pay brought him to his -feet again. His entire freedom was his ruin. Had he been compelled to work -during certain hours every day, it is certain that Collins would have been -less of a butterfly, and probable that he would not have lost his reason. -As it was, the lax authority bred in him a desire to partake of the -dissipation and gaiety of London, and caused him to relegate work and -poetry to a secondary and quite unimportant consideration. He became -content merely to draw up the outline of vast schemes for future work. -That which he did complete was short and unsatisfying. He began other -things and never completed them. In momentary bursts of enthusiasm he -would dash off the commencement of some perfect lyric with inspiration and -genius. But his powers of concentration had been sapped. He had not the -strength to go on working. The call to a tea-party, any outside matter of -no importance, was sufficient to make him throw his work into the fire and -rush off to enjoy himself. He even went so far as to receive money on the -_scenario_ of a work on condition of promising the completion by a certain -date. For some days he was steadied. His usual haunts saw him not. Behind -sported oak he sat and toiled, striving to conquer the distracting -thoughts aroused by the chime of a bell, the street cries which drifted up -to his window, the rustle of a branch in the trees outside, the tramp of -footsteps on his staircase, the shouts from a distant quad. The effort was -too much for him. Oxford had completely stifled whatever will-power he had -ever possessed. He was beaten by her, robbed of the faculty of using the -gifts which God had given him. He emerged from the struggle with several -pages of _scenario_, and nothing more was ever attempted. - -The praise of his friends round the Oxford tea-tables turned him into a -consistent prevaricator. “To-morrow I will write! To-morrow shall see my -epoch-making poem. To-morrow!†But to-morrow came and was passed in equal -idleness and futilities. “Wait till I get to London. Ah, then!†He was -convinced that he had but to arrive in the metropolis to be the centre of -a storm of praise and admiration. The praise and adulation poured upon him -by his fellow Undergraduates convinced him that his wit and genius would -make a brilliant success in London, and win him a fortune. But it was not -to be. His weakness and lack of resolve and initiative had triumphed. He -became an _habitué_ of coffee-houses, and formed acquaintances with -actors, wasting his time at stage doors. He soon dissipated his money, and -became badly in debt. The schemes for work by which to win fame and -retrieve his fortunes died at their birth, and nothing was carried -through. - -There cannot be definitely laid at Oxford’s door the accusation of being -the root of the insanity which subsequently developed in him. But it was -undoubtedly the fault of Oxford that he lost so soon the power over his -will which he possessed before his Undergraduate days. Such a man as -Collins needed the control of a guiding hand, some strong man whose -influence would have acted as a spur, and whose example would have led to -regular hours and serious work. Oxford, however, provided no such man. The -appointed tutor, who must have been a person gross in mind and body, took -no trouble with his charge, exercised no care, left him, indeed, to his -own resources. With him lies the blame for Collins’ madness. By leaving -him to follow the loose example of the Undergraduates of the time, who -acted upon the caprice of the moment whether for good or evil, that tutor -withheld, however unconsciously, the support for which the fragile mind of -Collins craved. Consequently, under the evil influence of -eighteenth-century Oxford, the holds upon his will which kept Collins -within the bounds of sanity were gradually loosened, until at length, a -few years after his going down, his reason entirely left him, and he who -should have been one of the world’s greatest poets was lost. - - * * * * * - -In a room on the second floor over the gateway at Pembroke Dr Johnson -lived during his Undergraduate career. A large-browed, unusual looking -lad, whose clothes were even then ill-fitting and badly cut, he came up at -the age of nineteen under the protecting wing of his father; was duly -introduced to his tutor, and moved in, reverently and tenderly, the only -household gods that he possessed--his books. - -Of a melancholic and somewhat bitter disposition already, he was, if -possible, even more lonely and unsought than the average freshman. This -condition of things caused him no regret. All his friends he brought with -him to line the bookshelves, and, sporting his oak against an unrealising -and unappreciative world, he revelled in the poets and the classics with -uninterrupted bliss. But the vitality of youth does not long remain -daunted, and Johnson soon threw off his melancholia and sallied forth into -the cobbled streets in search of amusement or adventure. Through the -bare-armed trees of the Broad Walk he made his way and joined in the -sliding in the frozen Christ Church meadows. Work was forgotten in the -biting, frosty, invigorating air, and for four days his tutor saw him not. -Ice does not come every year, and Johnson made the most of it while it -lasted. - -The college exercises were child’s play to him. Unlike the majority of -Undergraduates of the time, who read nothing but what was put into their -hands by their tutor, Johnson brought with him to the university such a -wide acquaintance with books, both of classics and poetry, that the Master -of Pembroke said in all sincerity that he was better qualified for the -university than any man during his time. With such knowledge and with the -impetuousness that was always one of his chief characteristics, it is not -to be wondered at that Johnson dashed off his exercises at top speed, and -with a brilliance that created awe in the minds of the Dons. In one case, -for instance, being requested to translate Pope’s _Messiah_ into Latin -verse, Johnson retired to his chamber and there, behind closed doors, -wrote feverishly on a corner of his book-strewn table. The results of his -rapid labours were twofold. He established a great reputation not only in -his college but in the entire university, and, more than that, earned -Pope’s highest praise, and brought about his statement that in later days -it would be a question whether his own or Johnson’s version would be -considered the original. One of his favourite haunts was Pembroke gate. -There he lounged away his mornings, doing no work, attending no lectures, -and preventing a crowd of listening Undergraduates from doing work or -attending lectures. Like a king surrounded by his court, Johnson, unkempt -of hair and ragged of clothes, with shoes down at heel and fit only for -the rubbish heap, let fly his wit and satire upon every topic. The shouts -of laughter which he provoked from his compeers bound them to him as -though he had been a Pied Piper, and it was to empty benches that the Dons -delivered their empty discourses. Against the tutors and Fellows also he -turned his tongue, and his satire and humour at their expense allied the -Undergraduates still more closely to him. But these merry meetings in the -Pembroke gateway were only a pose on Johnson’s part. He wished to convey a -certain impression, and he succeeded. The Master of Pembroke told Boswell -that he “was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and -frolicksome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his life.†- -This was indeed a proof of the success of his pose; for in reality he was -neither gay nor happy. His poverty, the bareness of his rooms, the -shabbiness of his dress, the consequent inability to go anywhere, even -into Christ Church, or do any of the things that the other men did who had -money, ground into his soul. He was bitterly sensitive of these things, -and the least reference to them, however delicate or well-meaning, either -aroused a torrent of hot words, or caused him to retreat clam-like into -his shell. The man who in a spirit of discreet friendship crept up to his -rooms, left a new pair of shoes outside his door and stole unseen away, -was only rewarded for his good-nature by learning that Johnson had thrown -them out of the window in a burst of fury against the creation that had -left him penniless. It was only the fact that scornful eyes (or at any -rate Johnson’s touchiness interpreted scorn into them) were turned upon -his shoes, through which his feet peered frankly out, that Johnson ceased -going to Christ Church to obtain, second hand, the lectures of Bateman -from his friend Taylor. He conceived poverty to be an awful and dangerous -state. After his father had died, leaving practically nothing for his -mother and himself, Johnson wrote in one of his little diaries: -“Meanwhile let me take care that the powers of my mind may not be -debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me into criminal -act.†By force of having no money, and not receiving any remittances from -his father, by whom every penny had to be made to go the distance of two, -he naturally incurred debts at Oxford. As he knew, however, that it would -be only with difficulty that his expenses would be met at all, his debts -were not large, and any incipient extravagance that may have been in him -was crushed out very early. His one great craving was to replenish his -library, and as this was impossible he took every opportunity of visiting -the well-stocked libraries of other people. These gave him intense joy, -and his first move was always to cross to the bookshelves and there, -oblivious of his host and the whole world, to pour over the beloved -volumes. - -His faculty for poetical and prose writings was already strongly developed -when first he came up to Oxford, and the original points of view from -which he wrote his themes were a subject of great comment. The rest of the -Undergraduates were as children when compared to one of his mental -abilities. Even his tutor admitted that his position was farcical, and -that Johnson was far above him in brain capacity, for he said on one -occasion that “I was his nominal tutor but he was above my mark.†And the -lad was then but some nineteen years of age! Merely to perform college -exercises was absurd and irritating to one of his hasty dispositions. -Having rattled them off, he used to read by himself, but with such a -varied and impetuous taste that his knowledge seemed to include every -subject of which anything had ever been written. Boswell says that “he -told me, that from his earliest years he loved to read poetry, but hardly -ever read any poem to an end; that he read Shakespeare at a period so -early, that the speech of the ghost in _Hamlet_ terrified him when he was -alone; that _Horace’s Odes_ were the composition in which he took most -delight, and it was not long before he liked his _Epistles_ and -_Satires_.... What he read most solidly at Oxford was Greek; not the -Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, and now and then a little -epigram; that the study of which he was most fond was Metaphysicks.†But -for all his brilliance Johnson went down without taking a degree. His -father’s death rendered it impossible for him to remain at Oxford for the -full course, and he never went in for the schools. - -While at the university he did not form many great friendships. His was -not the temperament. A highly sensitive man, surrounded for the most part -by men of some wealth who were ever ready to incur expenses, he was always -on the look-out for an objectionable glance of pity or sympathy, than -which there was to him nothing worse or more heinous. With his wonderful -talents it was rather for him to look down upon the vacuous moneyed men -than permit himself to be patronised by them. Consequently, fully -realising the almost insurmountable handicap of comparative penury, -Johnson preferred to make his way by force of brain power or not at all, -rather than bow down to the man with a fat purse. As he himself said in -after life, “I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I -disregarded all authority.†- -As a man of readiness and physical pluck he was without rival. In the -summer the thought of sunshine and the wonderful green colourings of the -trees called him from his books, and collecting a companion on the way, he -was used to saunter through the parks to enjoy a bathe. His pulses -tingling with the delight of being alive and young on a glorious day, with -the softly waving branches rustling overhead, and the quiet river gliding -at his feet, Johnson’s flow of fancies kept his companion entranced until -they had thrown off their clothes and were ready for the first cool -splash. There existed apparently a certain deep hole in the river bed in -one of the places where they used to bathe, and Johnson’s friend warned -him of the danger. Immediately, with the uncaring folly of youth, Johnson -plunged into the very spot to his friend’s horror and anxiety. In a few -moments he emerged, blowing like a healthy grampus, and poured ridicule -upon his well-meaning if timid friend. He was, indeed, foolhardy to the -point of braggadocio. A very sure proof of this is afforded by an incident -which occurred when he was staying at Mr Beauclerk’s house in the country. -The guests were outside the house one day on the lawn discussing the -merits of their guns, when one of them pointed out that if a gun were -loaded with many balls there was a danger of its bursting. Johnson -promptly slipped in some seven or eight and fired his gun against the wall -of the house. Instead of rating him soundly for his egregiously childish -love of showing off, Boswell, in his blind idolatry, praises this up as -being “resolution.†- -At Oxford, and in fact afterwards, it was Johnson’s habit to sally forth -at night time for solitary walks. His great affection for Oxford was -doubtless stimulated by these lonely prowls through the moonlit streets, -and his entire disregard for the consequences of his actions helped him in -his climbs back into college. One can picture him dropping out of Pembroke -after careful glances to right and left to see that all was clear, and -marching along with his hands behind his back, safe from the scornful eyes -of Smarts, which made his mean clothes infinitely more uncomfortable, his -eyes drinking in the beauties of the wonderful skyline of the City of -Spires, his mind occupied perhaps in thinking out Rasselas as he made his -way through the narrow, deserted streets. On one of these expeditions four -roughs sprang out upon him suddenly from the shadow of a gateway, intent -on relieving him of the purse and jewellery which they supposed him to -have. Their mistake was twofold, for, in addition to lighting upon a poor -man, they had also caught a tartar. Johnson, young and active, struck out -lustily and with skill, and, setting his back to the wall, battered the -scoundrels right royally. Savage at being resisted, the men renewed their -attack with the idea of vengeance, but Johnson, with no other aid than his -fists, kept them at bay until the quick tramp of feet hurrying round the -corner announced the presence of the watch, and both the attackers and -their would-be victim were carried off to the round-house. - -At a later period in his career when, one would have thought, his quick -temper should have been entirely under control, he had an amusing -adventure in the playhouse at Lichfield which showed, plainly enough, both -that he could still lose his temper and that he had sufficient strength to -carry things through. A chair had been placed for Johnson’s express use -between the side scenes. Wishing, however, to speak with some one in -another part of the building, he left it for a moment. Some gentleman -promptly took possession, and Johnson, finding on his return that his -place was occupied, civilly demanded his seat. The gentleman rudely -refused to give it up. In a flash Johnson laid hold of him and tossed both -man and chair into the pit. - -In spite of the fact that Johnson at Pembroke suffered tortures from being -poor, and that his gay and frolicsome habits were merely a cloak to hide -his bitterness, yet he contracted a love for his college which endured to -his death. It was a matter of pride to him to run over the list of names -of the celebrated men educated at the same college: such names as Spenser, -Shenstone, Blackstone, and others. In the “Memoirs of the Life and -Correspondence of Hannah Moore†is found the following passage -illustrative of his love for the old college. “Who do you think is my -present cicerone at Oxford? Only Dr Johnson! and we do so gallant it -about! You cannot imagine with what delight he showed me every part of his -own college.... Dr Adams, the Master of Pembroke, had contrived a very -pretty piece of gallantry. We spent the day and evening at his house. -After dinner Johnson begged to conduct me to see the college, he would let -no one else show it me but himself. ‘This was my room; this Shenstone’s.’ -Then after pointing out all the rooms of the poets who had been of his -college, ‘In short,’ said he, ‘we were a nest of singing birds. Here we -walked, there played cricket.’ He ran over with pleasure the history of -the juvenile days he passed there.... But alas! Johnson looks very ill -indeed--spiritless and wan. However he made an effort to be cheerful....†- -As a last token of his love for Pembroke he sent the college a present of -all his works. This was done just before his death, and Boswell tells us -that he was most anxious to bequeath his house at Lichfield to the college -as well. His friends, however, “very properly dissuaded him from it.†- - * * * * * - -And now reluctantly I lay down my pen. It would be possible to continue -for ever with such a subject as Oxford. Oxford, filled with the mystic -echoes of the past, and the life and movement of the present, where a man -passes four of the best years of his life, making livelong friendships, -feeling things, doing things, and seeing things which remain indelibly -engraved in his mind. Memories of Oxford have moved singers and poets to -ecstasies of emotional utterance, inspired great writers with beautiful -thoughts, and have been the one ray of comforting light in dark and -miserable lives. Is there, or has there ever been, a man who, having -known the protection of the old city’s walls, and explored the tree-shaded -meanderings of the limpid Cher, having rioted after an athletic triumph -and burnt the midnight oil with an intimate friend, having been, in short, -a full-blooded Undergraduate, has gone down without any love for _Alma -mater_ in his heart, who has felt no thrill in after years when looking -back upon his Oxford years? Surely such a creature was never born. -Oxford’s charm is, essentially, not for the few. It strikes the heart of -every one of her countless sons. Year follows year, and century, century, -and the stream of men flows unceasingly in and out of the city’s gates. -Does Oxford change, however? Another wrinkle on her face may betray the -lapse of many decades, but her beauty remains. She is still the same. - - “Still on her spire the pigeons hover; - Still by her gateway haunts the gown; - Ah, but her secret? you, young lover, - Drumming her old ones, forth from town, - Know you the secret none discover? - Tell it when you go down. - - “Yet if at length you seek her, prove her, - Lean to her whispers never so nigh; - Yet if at last not less her lover - You in your hansom leave the High; - Down from her towers a ray shall hover-- - Touch you, a passer by.â€[31] - - -PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[2] “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[3] “Random Records,†by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[4] “Random Records,†by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[5] “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[6] “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[7] “Oxford Studies,†by J. R. Green (Macmillan & Co). - -[8] “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[9] _Ibid._ - -[10] “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[11] “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[12] “Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth†(London 1820). - -[13] “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[14] “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[15] “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[16] “Reminiscences of a Literary Life,†by T. F. Dibdin, London, 1836. - -[17] “Recollections of Particulars in Life of late Mr William Shenstone,†-by the Rev. Richard Graves. - -[18] Terrae Filius. - -[19] “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[20] “Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon†(London, 1796). - -[21] “Essays Moral and Literary,†by Vicesimus Knox. - -[22] “Oxford Studies,†by J.R. Green (Messrs Macmillan & Co.). - -[23] “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[24] “Life of William, Earl of Shelburne,†by Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice -(London, 1895). - -[25] “University Education,†by Dr Newton (London, 1726). - -[26] “Boswell’s Life of Johnson.†- -[27] “Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon†(London, 1796). - -[28] “Reminiscences of a Literary Life,†by T. F. Dibdin. - -[29] “Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth†(London, 1820). - -[30] To which he transferred from Magdalen Hall. - -[31] A. C. Quiller-Couch. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/42960-0.zip b/old/42960-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c7ecfa3..0000000 --- a/old/42960-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/42960-8.txt b/old/42960-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fb18bbb..0000000 --- a/old/42960-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7109 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. Hamilton Gibbs - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Rowlandson's Oxford - -Author: A. Hamilton Gibbs - -Illustrator: Thomas Rowlandson - -Release Date: June 16, 2013 [EBook #42960] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive.) - - - - - - - - - -ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - - -[Illustration: FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH.] - - - - - ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - BY A. HAMILTON GIBBS - (ST JOHN'S COLLEGE) - - - LONDON - KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. LTD. - 1911 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - CHAPTER I THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools-- - Manhood--Lonely freshers--The "pi" man--The newcomer's - metamorphosis--The Lownger's day--Regrets at being down 1-8 - - CHAPTER II THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and "easy pads"--Farewell to - parents--A forlorn animal--Terrae Filius's advice--Much - prayers--"Hell has no fury like a woman scorned"--The - disadvantages of a conscience 9-17 - - CHAPTER III THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker-- - Colman and the Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford - manner--_Homunculi Togati_--Academia and a mother's - love--The jovial father--Underground dog-holes and - shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night 18-28 - - CHAPTER IV THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne's coffee-house and the _billet doux_-- - Tick--Liquor capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_-- - Latin odes for tradesmen only 29-38 - - CHAPTER V THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven-- - The President under her thumb--Amhurst's table of cons.-- - King Charles and the other place 39-45 - - CHAPTER VI THE SERVITOR - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors 46-54 - - CHAPTER VII SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper's--Southey at Balliol--Cox's six-oared - crew--The river-side barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes - against games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses - and badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights-- - Paniotti's Fencing Academy--Old-time "bug-shooters"-- - Skating in Christ Church meadows--Cricket and the - Bullingdon Club--Walking tours 55-68 - - CHAPTER VIII CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the "Lunatics"--The - Constitution Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and - minutes--High Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers 69-82 - - CHAPTER IX WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen-- - The "Vindication"--Opposing and responding--"Schemes"-- - Doing austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents-- - Magdalen collections 83-94 - - CHAPTER X 'VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson's _Oxford Journal_-- - Domestic intelligence--Election poems--Curious - advertisements--Superabundance of St John's editors-- - Terrae Filius 95-108 - - CHAPTER XI 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Student_--Cambridge included--Its design--The female - student--Poem by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury's - letter--The manly woman 109-121 - - CHAPTER XII 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to - the _Cozeners_, written by Garrick--Visions, fables, and - moral tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789 122-135 - - CHAPTER XIII 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet_--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford_-- - _The Oxford Act_--_The Oxford Sausage_--Present and latter - day literature summed up 136-141 - - CHAPTER XIV THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student's_ opinion of one--A tradesman's poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties-- - Tradesmen's taste in literature--Advertising and _The - Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, innkeeper--Amhurst's - confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts 142-152 - - CHAPTER XV THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr - Newton on tutors' fees--Dr Johnson's recommendation of - Bateman--Public lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham - man's letter 153-162 - - CHAPTER XVI THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining-- - College Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the - Magdalen Dons--Heads of colleges--Their domestic and - public character--Golgotha and Ben Numps--St John's head - pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and Randolph 163-174 - - CHAPTER XVII THE DON--(continued) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of - a degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from - Black Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Isaac Walton and - the senior Proctor--Amhurst's character sketch of a - certain Proctor 175-183 - - CHAPTER XVIII CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards - and claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered - afterwards--Edward Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism - towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman Catholic--Subsequent - apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking orders--Germs of - ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism 184-198 - - CHAPTER XIX CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work-- - Oxford kills his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel - Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely freshman--Translates Pope's - _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from poverty--Dr Adam, his - tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of showing - off--His love of Pembroke 199-210 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH _Frontispiece_ - - VIEW OF ST MARY'S CHURCH AND RADCLIFFE LIBRARY _To face page_ 9 - - COLLEGE SERVICE " 15 - - A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE, ETC., AT OXFORD " 19 - - BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD " 30 - - MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE QUADRANGLE " 40 - - A 'VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN " 45 - - VIEW OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE " 53 - - NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON'S STUDY AT OXFORD " 59 - - A DUCK HUNT " 66 - - A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS' COLLEGE " 74 - - THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN " 92 - - OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING " 133 - - A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD " 160 - - MERTON COLLEGE " 177 - - STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH " 193 - - - - -FOREWORD - - -The task of writing a book on Oxford University is by no means an easy -one. If it be a novel there are countless pitfalls to entrap the -author--points small and inconsequent to the reader who cannot proudly -claim the City of Spires as his Alma Mater, but irritating beyond -description to the man who knows and loves Oxford. - -But if modern Oxford dealt with from the romantic and sentimental point of -view as the background of a story contains such a network of difficulties, -the Oxford of two hundred years ago, Rowlandson's Oxford, contains them -multiplied a hundred times, because it now becomes a question not of -reproducing the vivid pictures of the hour and moment, but of recreating -the atmosphere of a time that is silent in death. - -It is, therefore, with great diffidence that I have attempted to -resuscitate the life and moods of Oxford of the eighteenth century. Barely -two years have elapsed since the days when I looked out from my windows -into the quad of my college. All the work and play, the alarums and -excursions which go to form the life of the average Undergraduate have not -yet had time to fade into dim, half forgotten memories. Alma Mater still -grasps me in her warm hand. So vivid indeed are all the impressions which -I received from the friendly gargoyles and the peace-touched lawns, the -beautiful colleges with their silent cloisters, the full-blooded -twenty-firsters and bump-suppers, and the thousand and one everyday -happenings, that I might be merely awaiting the passing of vacation to go -up once more. - -With all the Undergraduate interests still so strongly at heart, I think -that it is natural that I should have studied the Rowlandson period with -the mind of the Undergraduate and have carried out my task from the -Undergraduate point of view. It is difficult to give any idea of the -quaintness, delight, and amusement caused by going back two hundred years -to a University so like and so unlike--like, in that the men, although so -different outwardly, had practically the same ideas as we have and carried -them out in the same colleges, even in the same rooms, in a precisely -similar manner; unlike in that the Dons were a breed of men differing in -every respect from those who look after us to-day. - -Working, then, on the hypothesis that Oxford men in Rowlandson's time were -identical with ourselves, I have drawn analogies between every step in the -lives of both. I have endeavoured to show that from the beginning of their -fresherdom, when they felt self-conscious, _gauche_, and timid, down to -the days when they took their degrees and knew Oxford blindfold in all her -moods and tenses, they possessed the same outlook, had the same -aspirations and ambitions, and were filled with the same admiration and -love of Alma Mater as the men of to-day. For instance, as a freshman the -Georgian Undergraduate curiously watched the seniors who were responsible -for the tone of their college. Gradually he sloughed both his nervousness -and his un-Oxford wardrobe and began to assert his own individuality. -Little by little he discovered new sides of Oxford life, new haunts in -which he began to feel at home. Daily he made new acquaintances who, as -time went by, ripened into friends. Eventually, by the end of his first -year, he had so absorbed Oxford into his personality that he in turn was -able to condescend to the next year's arrivals. During this time his -attitude towards the Dons, the statutes, the schools--to everything, in -short, outside the immediate Undergraduate side of life--varied with the -terms. At the beginning they were subjects only to be broached with awe -and deliberation. But the more he came into contact with an ever -increasing circle of friends, the sooner his respect changed into -ridicule, disgust, and finally, when a senior, into amused toleration. - -In précis form such was the development of the eighteenth-century -Undergraduate. His metamorphosis into a "blood," with all its amusing -accompaniments and accomplishments--the former consisting of the latest -fashions in clothes and the _entrée_ to the innermost recesses of the -Maudlin Groves in the company of the most celebrated Oxford damsel; the -latter of a facility for dashing off a well thought out extempore series -of oaths, being the handiest man at a tea-table, drinking more than any -other buck of his acquaintance before finally succumbing, to follow in the -natural sequence of events according to the temperament of the freshman. -Had he a leaning towards becoming a "blood" not only was there nothing to -stop him, but, on the contrary, all the existing conditions were such as -to facilitate the execution of his desires. - -In all these phrases the old-time Undergraduate can be compared with his -modern brothers. In his dealings with the river-side barmaids, the local -tradesmen, and the proctors he pursued much the same ingenuous methods -which are used with equal success to-day. Just as we become members of -unlimited numbers of year clubs and settle the affairs of the entire human -species at the nightly meetings with ease and eloquence, they, too, formed -societies and took themselves with a similar seriousness. They contributed -literary morsels to the Undergraduate papers which satirised existing -institutions in the same youthful manner in which we satirise them. They -conducted "rags" with a thoroughness and disregard of results which ended -in the same speedy rustication of the ringleaders which inevitably -overtakes the men who are still unwise enough to be found out. - -In a word, my object has been not to compare the ethics of the university -to-day with those of yesterday, but rather to set forth an analogy between -Dons and Undergraduates of that period and this, and the business of their -daily life, from the point of view of one upon whom the influence of Alma -Mater has not yet been mellowed into an analytical remembrance by long -contact with the world which lies beyond her spires. - -Whether I have succeeded in proving my case remains to be seen. At least I -venture to hope that the results of my work may form a frame for -Rowlandson's pictures which are here reproduced for the first time from -Rowlandson's original water-colour drawings. - -Of these pictures many were engraved at the time in aquatint, but the -engraver was as a rule so obsessed with the Georgian ideas of the -beautiful in architecture that he practically reconstructed the majority -of the buildings represented, in accordance with that idea, so that some -of the most beautiful and characteristic buildings in Oxford and -Cambridge, so delicately portrayed by Rowlandson's pencil, are turned into -rectangular monstrosities, the like of which was never seen in either -university town. - -The superiority of hand-engraving over modern processes is evident enough, -when the engraving itself was made by the artist; but when the original -drawing is so hopelessly misrepresented as is the case with many of the -aquatints of Rowlandson's drawings, the modern facsimile processes have -their obvious advantages. - -It is therefore claimed that Rowlandson's drawings of Oxford are here -reproduced for the first time, and it is believed that they will be a -revelation to many who have hitherto looked upon Rowlandson merely as a -somewhat gross caricaturist. The caricaturist, it is true, is still here -depicting in the foregrounds characteristic scenes in the university life -of the time, but here is also another Rowlandson with an appreciation of -the beauties of Oxford rare indeed in his age, and one who is able to -delineate them with accuracy and delicacy which have seldom been equalled -in the portrayal of such subjects. - -The author desires to express his gratitude to the Rev. Christopher -Wordsworth for having very kindly granted him permission to make -quotations from "Social Life in the English Universities"; and to Messrs -Macmillan & Co., publishers of J. R. Green's "Oxford Studies," for -allowing him to make two quotations from that book; and also to Mr R. S. -Rait of the Oxford Historical Society for having permitted him to quote -from Miss L. Quiller-Couch's "Reminiscences of Oxford," published by that -society. - - - - -ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools--Manhood--Lonely - freshers--The "pi" man--The newcomer's metamorphosis--The Lownger's - day--Regrets at being down. - - -How few of us there are to-day who ever devote even the slack hour between -tea and "hotters" and Hall to finding out something at least about the -Undergraduates who had our rooms two centuries ago. Yet to every man the -word Oxford conjures up vast vague shadows from the past which make him as -a freshman tread softly and with reverence through the quads and gardens, -High Streets and by-streets of the City of Spires. Great names rise up -into our minds and fill us with wonder, but the scout knocks at our door -with half-cold food and our dreams dissolve into irritated reality. There -may come a moment, perhaps, when, with feet at rest upon the mantel-shelf -and a straight-grained pipe bubbling in quiet response between our teeth, -we are deafening our ears to the call of bed, the slow-flowing -conversation drifts by chance to a casual query as to what our -predecessors did at the same hour two hundred years ago. Beyond a few more -or less unimaginative surmises we remain in ignorance, blissful and -uncaring, believing them to be strange-clothed beings of stilted language -and curious habits, and at once the talk turns to present and more -pleasant topics. We little think that to all intents and purposes we are -almost exactly the same as our old-time-brethren. - -To-day we row, play cricket, football, tennis, golf; we cut our lectures -when we safely can and "binge" at every opportunity. Schools do occupy us, -it is true, but as a mere secondary item in the university scheme of -things--and rightly so. A degree, however good, does not, by itself, make -men of us and teach us how to live. It is the social life of the -university which is the real education and which sends us out into the -world ready to face anything and everything. By developing our bodies we -develop our minds, and in this programme of athletics and sociability we -are a replica of our eighteenth-century brethren. They rose about nine, -breakfasted at ten, and dallied away the morning with a flute or the -latest French comedy. By way of strenuous exercise, necessitated by a -climate which was just as evil then as now, they walked, rode, rowed, or -skated, and in the evening figured at the Mitre or Tuns where they made -merry into the small hours with beer, claret, or punch. - -To them schools were much less a source of worry than they are to us, for, -beyond attending occasional disputations and an odd lecture or so, when a -Don could be persuaded to give one, they obtained their degree by the -simple but expensive process of drinking the examiner--usually a hardened -toper--under the table overnight. He was then led, in the morning, while -still pleasantly fuddled, to the schools, and there, in consideration of a -respectable douceur, he signed away the necessary papers with a beaming -and self-satisfied smile. They knew nothing of the humours of white ties, -dark suits, and a week's terrible strain to get a First in Honour -Mods--before the Finals are even thought of. The shivering crowds waiting -in the Hall to be led to the slaughter did not exist in those days. A -Trinity man named Skinner, who matriculated in 1790, flung himself at the -subject in satirical verse:-- - - "Enter we next the Public Schools - Where now a death-like stillness rules; - Yet these still walls in days of yore - Back to the streets returned the roar of hundreds.... - But since their champion Aristotle - Has been deserted for the bottle - The benches stand like Prebends' stalls - Lone and deserted 'gainst the walls."[1] - -No sooner have we finished with our public school days, when we are known -as boys, and have either scrambled over the "Smalls" hedge with some -humility and relief, or else have secured the privilege of lording it in a -scholar's gown, than we instantly become men. We may be anything between -eighteen and twenty, but if a sister, brother, or cousin be unwary enough -to refer to us as a boy--woe unto him or her! We may pretend that we do -not mind, but in our heart of hearts we rejoice in being Oxford "men," and -guard our title jealously. We are not, however, unique in this. It is a -habit which has come down to us from the eighteenth century when they were -just as jealous of such points of etiquette. - -George Colman the younger tells us that he came upon two freshmen of that -time who had had a quarrel. Six months before they blacked each other's -eyes at Westminster in the good old British way. Now, however, being -Oxford men, they could not descend to such a childish level, but agreed to -afford each other "gentlemanly satisfaction." They may have lacked a -certain sense of humour, but it was the right spirit, and it is safe to -conclude that they both did well at their respective colleges. - -The lonely freshman of to-day who has no friends already in residence -wanders round just as nervously and makes the same _faux pas_ as did his -predecessors. It takes him just as long to find his feet and settle down -and make friends. Exactly in the same way also if he knows men already up -he is welcomed by them, invited to heavy breakfasts and put right on -matters of etiquette: such as never by any chance to wear square and gown -unless absolutely compelled to--and all the other minutiæ which are of -such importance. In the eighteenth century a freshman was taken by his -senior friends to the Mitre and sat in front of a bowl of punch with brown -toast bobbing in it. He heard sonnets recited to the eyelashes of Sylvia. -He was taught to drink on his knees to Phyllis or Chloe, or some other -fair female of the moment. He was taken to the barber's and shown how to -wear a wig instead of his own hair. In fact, his feet were set in the -proper path then in just the same friendly spirit as now. - -They had their clubs and societies at which, in the intervals of drinking, -they indicted Latin poems or discussed some important political question -where we, over mulled claret and other comestibles, read papers on "The -Abolition of the Halfpenny Press," or "The Glories of Tariff Reform." They -had big dinners, and tried to find their way home in the small hours. We -have our fresher's wines and bump suppers in which the whole college -participates with the sole object of enjoying good wine and destroying -good furniture, and we crawl home, if we are outside college, through the -same streets. To-day we have the "pi" man who sternly refuses to -countenance such evil things as fresher's wines; who has signed the pledge -and eschews tobacco. If he is compelled by an outraged band of senior men -to lend his presence against his better judgment, and is led out from a -room in a state of Doré-like chaos, he becomes uproarious on a glass of -water and two bananas, and writes home to his mother that his bill for -repairs is enormous owing to his bravery in being a martyr to his -principles, and that drunkenness is on the increase among the -Undergraduates. All the same he thoroughly enjoys himself, and in time -wears off rough corners and learns how to keep his vows without any -objectionable fanfare. At the end of the eighteenth century a man of this -kidney named Crosse wrote to his mother: "Oxford is a perfect hell upon -earth. What chance is there for an unfortunate lad just come from school -with no one to watch and care for him--no guide? I often saw my tutor -carried off perfectly intoxicated." I can see the man crouching in a dark -corner of the quad appalled at the sight of his fellows dancing round a -bonfire, while his tutor rushes by on the arms of a festive crowd in full -rejoicing at some college triumph. It would be interesting to ascertain -Crosse's views at the end of his university career. He remained, however, -in the obscurity of mediocrity. - -Our trousseau when we first appear at the university consists of modest -socks and humble waistcoats, and ties which make no claim to originality -or even to smartness. They are content to be merely useful and to fulfil -their appointed functions. But does not every parent learn subsequently, -with dreadful results to his peace of mind, how after our first month we -make our way unerringly to the tailors and clothiers, and there with -deadly earnestness absorb colour schemes which cry a loud challenge to -Joseph's coat? Our waistcoats are dreams,--sometimes nightmares; the -blending of harmony between shirt, tie, and socks is as perfect as the -rainbow. Our hair, which used to be parted carelessly down one side, now -disdains partings and goes straight back in one beautiful Magdalen sweep. -Our trousers are thrown at the scout's head as a gift unless they be of -unparalleled width and of exceptional crease. - -This tendency to burst forth into strange and variegated garments in token -of our emancipation from apron strings was just as strong in the old days. -The sons of country farmers came trooping into Oxford, their clouted shoes -thick with good red earth, in linsey wolsey coats, with greasy, uncombed -heads of hair flapping in the wind. Their stockings were of coarse yarn, -and they knew nothing better than to have long muslin neckcloths run with -red at the ends. But they soon realised the contempt in which they were -held for this dull chrysalis-like appearance. After a few weeks these -shamefaced clodhoppers sneaked into the side door of the barbers' shops to -emerge proudly by the front entrance in a bob wig. Their clouted shoes -were relegated to young brothers, and they wore new ones--Oxford cut. -Their yarn stockings gave place to worsted, until, after a very short -interval between their arrival and their settling down, they blushed out -like butterflies in tye wigs and ruffles and silk gowns. The "blood" of -that period, or, as the term then was, the "smart," or the "buck of the -first head," was distinguished when he aired his person, Amhurst told us, -"by a stiff silk gown which rustles in the wind as he struts along; a -flaxen tye wig, or sometimes a long natural one which reaches down below -his rump; a broad bully cock'd hat, or a square cap of above twice the -usual size; white stockings, thin Spanish leather shoes; his cloaths lined -with tawdry silk, and his shirt ruffled down the bosom as well as at the -wrists. Besides all which marks, he has a delicate jaunt in his gait, and -smells philosophically of essence." - -How his direct descendant, the Bullingdon man, must envy him his -magnificent opportunities of making a brave show! Not for him the silk -gown, the bully cocked hat. The best he can do in imitation is the amazing -dinner jacket which he sometimes sports at the theatre, under which one -finds not the accepted form of dress shirt but a peculiar form of -abortion which is neatly ruffled at "bosom and wrists." In place of the -Spanish leather shoes the last word to-day is apparently buckskin. The -"delicate jaunt in the gait" has been retained--the result being caused -now by a union of "Eton slouch" and "Oxford manner." The head still smells -of essence--honey and flowers at Hatt's, brilliantine at Martyr's. These -great-minded people think alike not only in point of dress but of the -manner of killing time. "The Lownger" summed up the process as carried out -in the eighteenth century-- - - "I rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten, - Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen, - Read a play till eleven or cock my lac'd hat, - Then step to my neighbour's, till dinner to chat. - Dinner over to Tom's or to James's I go, - The news of the town so impatient to know, - While Low, Locke and Newton and all the rum race - That talk of their Modes, their ellipses and space, - The Seat of the Soul and new Systems on high, - In Halls as abstruse as their mysteries lie. - From the coffee-house then I to Tennis away, - And at five I post back to my College to pray, - I sup before eight and secure from all duns, - Undauntedly march to the Mitre or Tuns, - Where in Punch or good Claret my sorrows I drown, - And toss off a bowl to the best in the town. - At one in the morning I call what's to pay? - Then home to my College I stagger away. - Thus I tope all the night as I trifle all day." - -Every one knows the various processes of slacking at the present time, so -that there is no need for detail. But in essence the method is the same, -and the result also. Our lunches at the Cherwell Hotel, at the riverside -inns at Iffley and Abingdon; our "Grinds"; our slacking on the river in -summer term--all these were done two centuries ago, and, just as some of -the more energetic of us seek to immortalise these doings by contributing -poems and articles to the 'varsity papers, so did the Undergraduates then -send their sonnets and Latin verses to _The Student_, the _Oxford -Magazine_, and Jackson's _Oxford Journal_. In place of the musical comedy -lady, whose silvery laughter floats down wind to-day, the Oxford toast -flaunted it right merrily in the old days. The gownsmen's tobacco accounts -then amounted to quite as much as ours do, and they wrote home for further -supplies of pocket money in almost the identical terms which we use -to-day. Yesterday's and to-day's Oxford men are one and the same. Oxford -herself and her Dons are changed, but the Undergraduate goes on doing and -thinking the same things in the same way, and when he goes down now he -feels very much as felt the eighteenth-century poet who, also down, -sang:-- - - "Could Ovid, deathless bard, forbear, - Confin'd by Scythia's frozen plains, - Cease to desire his native air - In softest elegiac strains? - Cursed with the town no more can I - For Oxford's meadow cease to sigh.... - Can I, while mem'ry lasts, forget - Oxford, thy silver rolling stream, - Thy silent walks and cool retreat - Where first I sucked the love of fame? - E'en now the thought inspires my breast - And lulls my troubled soul to rest." - -[Illustration: VIEW OF ST. MARY'S CHURCH & RADCLIFFE LIBRARY.] - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and "easy pads"--Farewell to parents--A - forlorn animal--Terrae Filius's advice--Much prayers--"Hell has no - fury like a woman scorned"--The disadvantages of a conscience. - - -The beginning of our university career is marked, unless we be Stoics, by -mixed feelings of elation and a sinking at the pit of the stomach which we -afterwards learn to recognise as "needle." The train journey may have -seemed long, but at this first breathless moment when the porter receives -our goods and chattels into his arms from the top of the moribund hansom, -we could almost wish that we were back in the train again. A sense of -isolation, and of having to stand or fall by ourselves, sweeps over like a -tidal wave, leaving us momentarily chilled and nervous. - -How different was the fresher's arrival in the eighteenth century. He -boarded a coach in the early morning in London. His baggage was placed in -the boot, and the traveller, armed to the teeth with blunderbuss and -pistols, took his seat. With a clattering of hoofs, yelling of ostlers and -merry tooting on the horn, the coach dashed out of the yard and wound -merrily along throughout the day by field, village, and town. If the -journey were a lucky one, the travellers arrived at Oxford without let or -hindrance about six o'clock in the evening, when they were able to catch a -first glimpse of the top of Radcliffe's Library. They then jolted in over -Magdalen Bridge--in those days the new bridge--and so made their way to -their respective colleges. - -Wrapped up in thick coats and with ice-cold feet tapping the side of the -coach to restore circulation, the excited fresher had ample time for -cogitation. The lets and hindrances, over and above the ordinary accidents -to horse or vehicle, such as casting a shoe or breaking a strap, were -little excitements in the form of footpads and highwayman, who infested -the district on the look-out for a fat and likely college bursar laden -with fat and likely money-bags. At the first hint of the approach of one -of these gentlemen of the road, blunderbusses were whipped out and fired -in all directions, while the horses were lashed and the coach leaned and -rocked and swayed in its efforts to get away. Afterwards, ensconced behind -a tankard in the Tuns among his somewhat condescending senior friends, the -newcomer warmed up under the influence of hot toddy and genial society, -and described the awful onslaught made upon them by at least fifty mounted -desperadoes. - -Did he come from nearer places than London, then he made his entrance on a -sedate horse, in the fashion of the gentleman-commoner who sent the -following account to Terrae Filius:-- - - "Being of age to play the fool - With muckle glee I left our school - At Hoxton, - And mounted on an easy pad - Rode with my mother and my dad - To Oxon." - -This merry bard was not exempt from the pangs of loneliness. He, too, felt -the wave of depression when his mother and dad kissed him and slowly -disappeared down the street again on their easy pads. For, after an -amusing description of purchasing gown and square, he burst into tears. - - "I sallied forth to deck my back - With loads of Tuft and black - Prunello. - My back equipt, it was not fair - My head should 'scape, and so as square - As chessboard - A cap I bought, my scull to screen, - Of cloth without and all within - Of pasteboard - When metamorphos'd in attire - More like a parson than a squire - th' had dressed me - I took my leave with many a tear - Of John our man, and parents dear - Who blessed me...."[2] - -and there he was, poor lad, probably no more than fifteen years old--of -age to play the fool--left, lachrymose and solitary, to fight his own -battles and win his M.A. spurs before coming to grips with the world. - -George Colman the younger, who matriculated at the House in 1780, and who -would most certainly have been instantly elected to the Bullingdon Club -had he gone up to-day, wrote most feelingly on the question of the lonely -fresher. "A Freshman, as a young academician is call'd on his admission at -Oxford," he said "is a forlorn animal. It is awkward for an old stager in -life to be thrown into a large company of strangers, to make his way among -them, as he can--but to the poor freshman everything is strange--not only -College society, but any society at all--and he is solitary in the midst -of a crowd. If, indeed, he should happen to come to the University -(particularly to Christ Church) from one of the great publick schools, he -finds some of his late school fellows, who, being in the same straggling -situation with himself, abridge the period of his fireside loneliness, -and of their own, by forming a familiar intercourse--otherwise he may mope -for many a week; at all events, it is generally some time before he -establishes himself in a set of acquaintance."[3] - -To-day when we have conquered Smalls and our rooms have been assigned in -college or in the house of some licensed landlady, it is customary for our -"parents dear" to lead us gently by the buttonhole into the study, and -there, with their coat tails spread wide to the blazing logs, to hold -forth in rounded periods what is termed sound advice. When it is over they -shake hands with us, both of us swallowing absurdly, and we go forth -better friends than ever. In the first number of any one of the 'varsity -"rags" for the new academic year it is safe to conclude that the "leader" -will be a word of explanation, advice, friendship, or welcome to the -newcomer. It is always facetious and invariably has a gentle dig at the -fresher's expense, though the writer, once a fresher himself, should know -better. The following is a specimen of how these things were done in the -old days:-- - - "_Wednesday, May 1, 1721._ - - "To all gentlemen School-Boys, in his majesty's dominions, who are - design'd for the University of Oxford, Terrae Filius sends greetings; - - "MY LADS,--I am so well acquainted with the variety and malapertness - of you sparks, as soon as you get out of your schoolmaster's hands, - that I know I shall be called a fusty old fellow, and a thousand - ridiculous names besides, for presuming to give advice, which I would - not, say you, take, if I was a young fellow myself. But being a very - public-spirited person, and a great well wisher to my fellow subjects - (whatever you may think of me) I am resolved, whether you mind what I - am going to say, or not, to lay you down some rules and precautions - for your conduct in the university, on the strict observation or - neglect of which your future good or ill fortune will depend; and, I - am sure that you will thank me, six or seven years hence, for this - piece of service, however troublesome and impertinent you may think it - now.... - - "I observe, in the first place, that you no sooner shake off the - authority of the birch, but you affect to distinguish yourselves from - your dirty school-fellows by a new suit of drugget, a pair of prim - ruffles, a new bob wig, and a brazen-hilted sword; in which tawdry - manner you strut about town for a week or two before you go to - College, giving your selves airs in coffee-houses and booksellers' - shops, and intruding your selves into the company of us men; from all - which, I suppose you think your selves your own master, no more - subject to controul or confinement--alas! fatal mistake! soon will you - confess that the tyrrany of a school is nothing to the tyrrany of a - college; nor the grammar-pedant to the academical one; for, what - signifies a smarting back-side to a bullied conscience? What was Busby - in comparison to D-e-l-ne? - - "And now, young gentlemen, give me leave to put on my magisterial - face, and to instruct you how you are to demean yourselves in the - station you are entered into, and what sort of behaviour is expected - from you, according to the oaths and these subscriptions. - - "I know very well that you go thither prepossessed with a sanguine - (but ignorant) opinion, that you are to hold fast your principles, - whatever they are; that you are to follow, what in your conscience you - think right, and to desclaim what you think wrong, that this is the - only way to thrive in the world, and to be happy in the next, just as - your silly mothers and superstitious old nurses have taught you: in - the first place, therefore, I advise you to disengage your selves from - all such scrupulous notions; for you may take my word for it, that - otherwise it is a million to one that you miscarry. - - "For, it is a maxim as true as it is common, so many men, so many - minds: but amongst all the different opinions of mankind there is - never, at any one time, but one of those opinions which is call'd - orthodox; if, therefore, you give your fancy the reins and let your - own judgment determine your opinions, what infinite odds is it, - whether you happen to hit upon that single, individual opinion, which - is, at that particular crisis of time, in vogue, and which is - therefore your interest to espouse? But if with all your diligence and - sincerity, you should miss this _rara avis_, this happy phoenix - opinion, then farewell to all your future prospects, to your ease, - your reputation and good name for ever afterwards; I mean, if you are - so weak, and so much bigotted with education, as to think it your duty - to profess what you cannot help believing. - - "Your only safe way therefore is to carry along with you consciences - _chartes blanches_, ready to receive any impression that you please to - stamp upon them; for I would not have you adopt any particular system, - however popular and prevailing it may seem to be at present, because - it may alter, and then will prove fatal to you; for as much as they - talk of steadiness and immutability of principles at Oxford, every - body knows that Popery was for many ages the orthodox religion there; - that protestantism (with much difficulty, and sorely against their - wills) succeeded it; that, not long ago, they were almost all Whigs, - and now almost all Tories, and for ought we know, will e're long be - Whigs again--never therefore explain your opinion but let your - declarations be, that you are churchmen, and that you believe as the - church believes.... - -[Illustration: COLLEGE SERVICE.] - - "I will only advise you to suppress, as much as possible, that busy - spirit of curiosity, which too often fatally exerts itself in youthful - breasts; but if (notwithstanding all your non-inquisitiveness), the - strong beams of truth will break upon your minds, let them shine - inwardly; disturb not the publick peace with your private discoveries - and illuminations; so, if you have any concern for your welfare and - prosperity, let Aristotle be your guide in philosophy, and Athanasius - in religion.... - - "To call yourself a Whig at Oxford, or to act like one, or to lie - under the suspicion of being one, is the same as to be attainted and - outlaw'd; you will be discouraged and brow beaten in your own college - and disqualified for preferment in any other; your company will be - avoided, and your character abused; you will certainly lose your - degree and at last, perhaps, upon some pretence or other, be - expelled.... - - "Leave no stone unturned to insinuate yourselves into the favour of - the Head, and senior-fellows of your respective colleges.... - - "Whenever you appear before them, conduct yourselves with all specious - humility and demureness; convince them of the great veneration you - have for their persons by speaking very low and bowing to the ground - at every word: whenever you meet them jump out of the way with your - caps in your hands and give them the whole street to walk in, let it - be as broad as it will. Always seem afraid to look them in the face, - and make them believe that their presence strikes you with a sort of - awe and confusion; but above all be very constant at chapel; never - think that you lose too much time at prayers, or that you neglect your - studies too much, whilst you are showing your respect to the church. I - have heard indeed that a former president of St John's College (a - whimsical, irreligious old fellow) would frequently jobe his students - for going constantly three or four times a day to chapel, and - lingering away their time, and robbing their parents, under a pretence - of serving God. But as this is the only instance I ever met with of - such an Head, it cannot overthrow a general rule.... Another thing - very popular in order to grow the favourites of your Heads, is first - of all to make your selves the favourites of their footmen, concerning - whose dignity and grandeur I have spoken in a former paper. You must - have often heard, my lads, of the old proverb, "Love me, and love my - Dog"; which is not very foreign in this case; for if you expect any - favour from the master, you must shew great respect to his servant. - - "Have a particular regard how you speak of those gaudy things which - flutter about Oxford in prodigious numbers, in summer-time, call'd - toasts; take care how you reflect on their parentage, their condition, - their virtue, or their beauty; ever remembering that of the poet, - - 'Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,' - - especially when they have spiritual bravoes on their side and old - lecherous bully-backs to revenge their cause on every audacious - contemner of Venus and her altars.... - - "I have but one thing more to mention to you, which is, not to give - into that foolish practice, so common at this time in the university, - of running upon tick, as it is called.... How many hopeful young men - have been ruin'd in this manner, cut short in the midst of their - philosophical enquiries, and for ever afterwards render'd unable to - pursue their studies again with a chearful heart, and without - interruption?... - - "My whole advice, in a few words, is this:-- - - "Let your own interest, abstracted from any whimsical notions of - conscience, honour, honesty or justice, be your guide; consult always - the present humour of the place and comply with it; make yourselves - popular and beloved at any rate; rant, roar, rail, drink, wh--re, - swear, unswear, forswear; do anything, do everything that you find - obliging; do nothing that is otherwise; nor let any considerations of - right and wrong flatter you out of those courses, which you find most - for your advantage. I have only to add, that if you follow this - advice, you will spend your days there not only in peace and plenty, - but with applause and reputation; if you have any secret good - qualities they will be pointed out in the most glaring light, and - aggravated in the most exquisite manner; if you have ever so many ugly - ones, they will be either palliated or jesuitically interpreted into - good ones. Whereas, on the contrary, if you despice and reject these - wholesome admonitions, violence, disrest, and an ill name will be the - rewards of your folly and obstinacy; it will avail you nothing, that - you have enrich'd your minds with all sorts of useful and commendable - knowledge; and that, as to vulgar morality, you have preserved an - unspotted character before men; these things will rather exasperate - the holy men against you, and excite all their cunning and artifice - for your destruction; the least frailties, humanity is prone to, will - be magnify'd into the grossest of all wickedness; and the best - actions, our nature is capable of, will be debased and vilified away. - And now do even as it shall seem good unto you. Farewell. - - TERRAE FILIUS." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker--Colman and the - Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford manner--Homunculi - Togati--Academia and a mother's love--The jovial father--Underground - dog-holes and shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night. - - -The advice tendered to freshmen in Amhurst's amazing and bitterly -satirical letter is for those who have been matriculated. They must, -therefore, fulfil all the rites of matriculation before they can read, -mark, learn, and inwardly digest it. As the process was vastly different -in Georgian times, it is interesting to read the varying accounts of -eighteenth-century freshmen. The gentleman who, "being of age to play the -fool," came up with his parents from Hoxton, has written a somewhat -indiscreet but all the more laughable description of the ceremony. - - "The master took me first aside, - Shew'd me a scrawl, I read, and cry'd - Do Fidem. - Gravely he shook me by the fist, - And wish'd me well--we next request - a tutor. - He recommends a staunch one, who - In Perkin's cause has been his co- - adjutor - To see this precious stick of wood, - I went (for so they deem'd it good) - in fear, Sir. - And found him swallowing loyally - Six deep his bumpers which to me - seem'd queer, Sir. - He bade me sit and take my glass, - I answered, looking like an ass, - I, I can't, Sir. - Not drink!--you don't come here to pray! - The merry mortal said by way - of answer. - To pray, Sir! No--my lad, 'tis well, - Come! here's our friend Sacheverell! - here's Trappy! - Here's Ormond! Marr! in short so many - Traitors we drank, it made my Cranium nappy...." - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE &C. &C. AT OXFORD.] - -The lad then went out into the town with this same "sociable priest," -bought his gown, and parted from his parents, and then-- - - "The master said they might believe him, - So righteously (the Lord forgive him!) - he'd govern - He'd show me the extremest love, - Provided that I did not prove - too stubborn. - So far, so good--but now fresh fees - Began (for so the custom is) - Fresh fees!--with drink they knock you down, - You spoil your clothes; and your new gown - you spue in...." - -He then retired for the night, and was awakened at six o'clock next -morning by a "scoundrel" of a servitor. He rose and went to chapel, very -sick and still half drunk. Later in the day, when he had recovered -sufficiently, he went with his tutor to Broad Street, where-- - - "Built in the form of Pidgeon-pye, - A house there is for rooks to lie - and roost in. - Thither to take the oaths I went, - My tutor's conscience well content - to trust in. - Their laws, their articles of grace - Forty, I think (save half a brace), - was willing - To swear to; swore, engag'd my soul, - And paid the swearing-broker whole - ten shilling. - Full half a pound I paid him down, - To live in the most p----d town, - o' th' nation." - -It must not be understood, however, that such orgies characterised the -ceremony of matriculation. This writer of fluent doggerel was a gentleman -commoner, but he seems to have caught at every lax point that he -personally observed as a target for his wit. The more sober matriculation, -both literally and figuratively, of George Colman the younger can be most -suitably placed in the other side of the scale. "On my entrance at -Oxford," he wrote, "as a member of Christ Church, I was too foppish a -follower of the prevailing fashions to be a reverential observer of -academical dress--in truth, I was an egregious little puppy--and I was -presented to the Vice-Chancellor, to be matriculated, in a grass-green -coat, with the furiously-bepowder'd pate of an ultra-coxcomb; both of -which are proscribed by the Statutes of the University. Much courtesy is -shown, in the ceremony of matriculation, to the boys who come from Eton -and Westminster; insomuch that they are never examined in respect to their -knowledge of the School Classicks--their competency is considered as a -matter of course--but, in subscribing the articles of their matriculation -oaths, they sign their _praenomen_ in Latin; I wrote, therefore, -_Georgeius_--thus, alas! inserting a redundant E--and, after a pause, said -enquiringly to the Vice-Chancellor--looking up in his face with perfect -_naiveté_--'pray, sir, am I to add Colmanus?' - -"My Terentian father, who stood at my right elbow, blush'd at my -ignorance--the Tutor (a piece of sham marble) did not blush at all--but -gave a Sardonick grin, as if _Scagliola_ had moved a muscle! - -"The good-natur'd Vice drollingly answer'd me--that the surnames of -certain _profound authors_, whose comparatively modern works were extant, -had been latinized; but that a Roman termination tack'd to the patronymick -of an English gentleman of my age and appearance, would rather be a -redundant formality. There was too much delicacy in the worthy Doctor's -satire for my green comprehension--and I walk'd back, unconscious of it, -to my College--strutting along in the pride of my unstatutable curls and -coat, and practically breaking my oath, the moment I had taken it." - -From both their accounts, differing so widely from each other, it would -seem that the ceremony of matriculation, which to-day is conducted with an -almost ecclesiastical solemnity, was in those days simply a matter of -form, a tedious business which the Vice-Chancellor hurried through with -all speed. One man performed his part in a condition of semi-intoxication -without an inkling of the meaning of the oaths to which he subscribed, -while another was presented to the Vice-Chancellor in clothes more -suitable to a fancy dress ball than to his formal admittance to the -university. Neither man drew upon himself the reprimand which to-day would -immediately be levelled at him. - -In becoming a member of the university, therefore, the eighteenth-century -freshman received his first experience of the complete inanition and -futility of the Don world. Apparently he suffered no apprehension on the -score of not conducting himself with fitting politeness when in the -presence of the authorities. Their opinion of him gave him no concern. He -was far more anxious not to contravene the unwritten laws of the -Undergraduate world. Once the tiresome but necessary matriculation became -a thing of the past, he began to look about him, anxiously at first from -the desire to avoid grievous blunders which would make him a -laughing-stock. All initiative was far too dangerous when the lynx eyes of -the entire college were upon him. Actuated by the firm belief that at -least he could not be criticised for politeness and good-breeding, the -timid freshman endeavoured to ingratiate himself in the eyes of all by -doffing his cap with humble frequence. From "Academia, or the Humours of -Oxford," the following bitter excerpt on the question of the freshman's -manners is vastly entertaining. - - "Now being arrived at his College, - The place of learning and of knowledge, - A while he'll leer about, and snivel ye, - And doff his Hat to all most civilly, - Being told at home that a shame face too, - Was a great sign that he had some Grace too, - He'll speak to none, alas! for he's - Amased at every Man he sees: - May-hap this lasts a Week, or two, - Till some Scab laugh's him on't, so - That when most you'd expect his mending, - His Breeding's ended, and not ending - Now he dares walk abroad, and dare ye, - Hat on, in peoples' Faces stare ye; - Thinks what a Fool he was before, to - Pull off his Hat, which he'd no more do; - But that the devil shites Disasters, - So that he's forc'd to cap the Masters, ... - He must cap them; but for all other, - Tho' 'twere his Father, or his Mother, - His Gran'num, Uncle, Aunt, or Cousin, - He wo' not give one Cap to a dozen." - -What wonders may be worked in a week or two! From almost servile -politeness he went to the extreme of discourtesy with the assurance of a -second-year man. - -Imitation is, however, the essence of life. Because certain things are -done, all men are compelled to do them unless they wish to incur social -ostracism. We are like sheep and must follow our leaders with docility and -readiness. If we decline to bow the neck to convention, and declare for -originality and freedom, society turns and rends us. At Oxford the -punishment for such a crime as originality is swift. A horde of outraged -seniors descends like an avalanche upon the sinner's rooms. They visit -their wrath not only upon his belongings but upon his person, and -eventually they leave him in a condition of mental and physical chaos, to -realise the utter futility of kicking against the pricks. - -In the eighteenth century the same social creed was practised. For any -transgression from the commonplace the chastisement of the culprit was -inevitable. The freshman undoubtedly realised the truth of this, however -vaguely, and conducted himself according to the rules laid down by his -seniors. His excessive good manners lasted only until the moment when it -was born in upon him that rudeness was the policy of his leaders. - -But though he might be no more than a scant fifteen years of age, as soon -as he wiped away the last tear caused by the departure of his mother, the -fresher became a Man, aggressively and consistently so. "No character," -wrote Colman, "is more jealous of the Dignity of Man (not excepting -Colonel Bath, in Fielding's Novel of Amelia), than a lad who has just -escaped from School birch to College discipline. This early Lord of the -Creation is so inflated with the importance of virility, that his -pretension to it is carefully kept up in almost every sentence he utters. -He never mentions any one of his associates but as a gentlemanly or a -pleasant man--a studious man, a dashing man, a drinking man, etc., -etc.--and the Homunculi Togati of Sixteen always talk of themselves as -Christ Church men, Trinity, St John's, Oriel, Brazen-nose men, -etc.--according to their several colleges, of which old Hens, they are the -Chickens--in short, there is no end to the colloquial manhood of these -mannikins." This passage might easily have been written to-day and not -about the middle of the eighteenth century, for the point of view of the -modern Oxford man is exactly the same as it was then. - -The parents of the old-time fresher looked at his going up and his -immediate assumption of manhood from very opposite points of view. The -mother, with regulation anxiety, conceived him to be a hardly-used, -homesick, half-starved, uncomfortable, thoroughly wretched fellow, doomed -to live in stone walls in a fever-stricken and miasmic locality. - - "Most dearly tender'd by his Mother, - Who loves him better than his brother; - So she at home a good while keeps him, - In White-broath, and Canary steeps him; - And tho' his Noddle's somewhat empty, - His Guts are stuffed with Sweet-meats plenty." - -This is how "Academia" described the mother's far-reaching apron-string -still feeling out, though some weeks cut, for her far distant son. Not so -the father! When his wife sent a servant up to Oxford with a well-stuffed -hamper for her boy and fond messages as to his health, he went down to the -servants' hall and, planting himself in front of the returned messenger, -asked "If's Son has got a Punck yet Whores he, and gets ye often drunk -yet; Being told by's Man, he took him quaffing, For joy he bursts his -sides with laughing; and prithee John (says he) and how was't--Ha, Drunk -i' the Cellar, as a Sow, wast?" - -Although the father took it for granted that his son had immediately -forgotten his home and arrived in an instant at man's estate--as far as -that permits of getting drunk--he was not always in the right. To a -certain extent the anxieties of the mother were justified, for, on -arriving at Oxford, the freshman did not always fall on a bed of clover. -In many instances he was lucky to get a bed at all in some poky little -garret with one window, through which could be obtained a minute view of -sky and stars, and which was ice-cold in winter and in summer stuffy to a -degree. However large the college there were always more men in residence -than could be properly housed. Colman said of the House, one of the -biggest colleges in Oxford, that it "was so completely cramm'd, that -shelving garrets, and even unwholesome cellars, were inhabited by young -gentlemen, in whose father's families the servants could not be less -liberally accommodated." He refers also to a fellow Westminster boy who -was "stuffed into one of these underground dog-holes." Then, too, even up -to the beginning of the nineteenth century there prevailed a system of -ragging freshers which did not tend to make them any the less homesick. -They were swindled by their scouts, and shamefully misused by their -bedmakers. - -To add to their discomfort their tutors were in many cases fast allies of -the bottle, and totally unable to render them any assistance in the matter -of finding their feet. Colman made a very illuminative reference, from his -own experience, to the scurvy tricks which the scouts and bedmakers played -upon the long-suffering fresher. "My two mercenaries," he wrote, "having -to do with a perfect greenhorn, laid in all the articles for me which I -wanted--wine, tea, sugar, coals, candles, bed and table linen--with many -useless etcetera, which they told me I wanted--charging me for everything -full half more than they had paid, and then purloining from me full half -of what they had sold." - -His scout and bedmaker had each seen fit to enter the bonds of holy -matrimony, and both brought up their better halves to assist in despoiling -the luckless greenhorn. He, however, soon lost his greenness and set about -putting his house in order--with the result that all four were turned out. -In their places, he duly installed a scout and a bedmaker who were married -to each other--a tactical move which "consolidates knavery, and reduces -your _ménage_ to a couple of pilferers, instead of four." But before -Colman had found himself sufficiently to be able firmly but courteously to -dispense with their services, his bedmaker, fittingly called a harpy, -played him false most condemnably. "I was glad," he said, writing of his -first night in Oxford, "on retiring early to rest, that I might ruminate, -for five minutes, over the important events of the day, before I fell fast -asleep. I was not, then, in the habit of using a night-lamp or burning a -rush-light; so, having dropt the extinguisher upon my candle, I got into -bed; and found, to my dismay, that I was reclining in the dark upon a -surface very like that of a pond in a hard frost. The jade of a bedmaker -had spread the spick and span sheeting over the blankets, fresh from the -linen-draper's shop-unwash'd, uniron'd, unair'd, 'with all its -imperfections on its head.' Through the tedious hours of an inclement -January night, I could not close my eyes--my teeth chattered, my back -shivered--I thrust my head under the bolster, drew my knees up to my chin; -it was all useless, I could not get warm--I turned again and again, at -every turn a hand or a foot touch'd upon some new cold place; and at every -turn the chill glazy clothwork crepitated like iced buckram. God forgive -me for having execrated the authoress of my calamity! but, I verily think, -that the meekest of Christians who prays for his enemies, and for mercy -upon "all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks," would in his orisons, in -such a night of misery, make a specifick exception against his -Bedmaker!"[4] - -In these enlightened days a fresher, even, would not have left her out of -his prayers--he would have invented new ones for her especial benefit. -Poor Colman found when he rose betimes in the morning, making a virtue of -necessity, that a night of misery was not the only torment that the -ill-favoured hussy had stored up for him. For, having abluted in ice-cold -water in the hopes of refreshing himself, he found that the towel was in -an even worse state of hardness than the sheets; while at breakfast the -tablecloth was so stiff that he dreaded to sit down to his meal because he -feared to cut his shins against the edge of it. With intent, doubtless, to -add humiliation to injury, the old hag had also left his surplice in a -state of pristine unwashedness, so that "cased in this linen panoply, -which covers him from his chin to his feet, and seems to stand on end, in -emulation of a suit of armour (the certain betrayer of an academical -debutant) the Newcomer is to be heard at several yards distance, on his -way across a quadrangle, cracking and bouncing like a dry faggot upon the -fire--and he never fails to command notice, in his repeated marches to -prayer, till soap and water have silenced the noise of his arrival at -Oxford." - -The optimism of a Georgian freshman was truly amazing. The invaluable gift -of youth is undoubtedly its explanation. To be thrust suddenly into -entirely new surroundings where not only the manners and customs were -quite different from any of which he had experience before, but where it -was necessary to begin again, to readjust his outlook upon life, was a -very trying experience. It was one which men of greater maturity would -hesitate to undergo. And yet here was this man, a mere lad of fifteen or -sixteen, gladly entering a new world with a vague notion of the things -which would be expected of him or of the things to expect. Without a -twinge of nervousness he signed his name to long-winded oaths, and -unconsciously perjured himself five minutes later. Everywhere he saw -strange faces, met with new and incomprehensible experiences, and found -himself doing the wrong thing. With undaunted cheerfulness, however, he -allowed Oxford to treat him as she chose, to mould him to her own liking, -to pull him this way and that, until eventually, with an increased -optimism, his schoolboy corners were rounded off, and he became one with -Oxford. It was his very lack of experience which enabled him to go through -such a difficult time without flinching. He did not realise the tremendous -forces at work upon him. He was, in fact, like a seed put into earth. -After the rain, the sun, the wind, and all the forces of Nature have been -brought to bear upon it, slowly and irresistibly it shoots up and becomes -at last a flower. The Oxford freshman burst forth into blossom at the end -of his first year in the same helpless way. He was quite unable to tell by -what steps his development had been brought about, and was perfectly -content to go through his whole university career in the same blind way. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne's coffee-house and the _billet-doux_--Tick--Liquor - capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_--Latin odes for tradesmen - only. - - -One of the most interesting things to study at the university is the way -in which a man gets into a certain set. Let me take for example a group of -freshmen who come from the same public school, who have played together in -the school games, possibly invited each other home for the holidays. Their -tastes and ideas are apparently the same. On coming up to Oxford each man -is differently affected. For the first few weeks they meet in one -another's rooms and discuss their impressions freely and without any -reserve. Then suddenly, after the manner of mushrooms which spring up in a -single night, it is found that one of them has got into the racing set -which despises everybody who does not ride a horse; another into the -working set, which lives, eats, and sleeps with its books; a third into -the religious set, which in a quiet, unostentatious manner goes out of its -way to help the poor, attends frequent religious meetings and, -unfortunately and quite undeservedly, is somewhat scorned by the rest of -the college; a fourth has got into the smart set, and has become a -"blood"; and others into the thousand and one little groups which go to -the composition of a university. - -This curious sudden upheaval of ideas and habits which is brought about in -one short term is to be found in every college every year, just as it -appertained in the eighteenth century. I have shown the way in which some -of these freshmen came to feel ashamed of their clothes and crept into -the back entrances of barber's and tailor's shops, while their friends -remained perfectly satisfied with their appearance, and jogged along -without any desire for silks and satins. - -The Georgian "blood," however, was a person of tantamount importance. It -was he who provided the university with food for mirth, envy, satire, -recrimination. In a previous chapter I quoted Amhurst's description of how -a Smart might be distinguished when he sauntered along, languidly twirling -his clouded amber cane and smelling philosophically of essence. His main -objects in life were apparently to avoid the accusation of being -ill-mannered, to consume daily as much liquor as possible, to be ardent in -singing the praises of the latest toast, and to expend in finery far more -money than he possessed. He thought himself to be a model of culture and -was, in fact, the man of the period who put on the most "side." - -Amhurst, with an editorial genius that was without parallel in those -times, wrote an attack on the good manners of Undergraduates in order that -he might criticise, or better, satirise, that "large body of fine -gentlemen call'd Smarts." Under the name of Valentine Frippery he answered -his own attack with a bitter reply, taking up the cudgels stoutly on -behalf of the attackees, and wound up his article by riddling all men of -the Frippery type. - -[Illustration: BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD.] - -Allowing that Terrae Filius was ever a caricaturist, and that all his -tirades and jibes must be taken cum _grano salts_, nevertheless the -picture he draws of the Bucks of the first head is a very true one. -"Valentine Frippery" wrote in answer to the accusation of ill-breeding as -follows:-- - - "_To Terrae Filius._ - - "_Christ Church College, July 1._ - - "MR PRATE-APACE.--Amongst all the vile trash and ribaldry with which - you have lately poisoned the publick, nothing is more scandalous - and saucy than your charging our university with the want of - civility and good manners. Let me tell you, Sir, for all your haste, - we have as well-bred, accomplish'd gentlemen in Oxford, as any where - in Christendom; men that dress as well, sing as well, dance as well, - and behave in every respect as well, though I say it, as any man under - the sun. You are the first audacious Wit-wou'd that ever call'd Oxford - a boorish, uncivilised place: And demme, Sir, you ought to be hors'd - out of all good company for an impudent praggish Jackanapes. Oxford a - boorish place! poor wretch! I am sorry for thy ignorance. Who wears - finer lace, or better linnen than Jack Flutter? who has handsomer - tie-wigs or more fashionable cloaths or cuts a bolder dash than Tom - Paroquet? Where can you find a more handy man at a tea-table than - Robin Tattle? Or, without vanity I may say it, one that plays better - at Ombre than him, who subscribes himself an enemy to all such pimps - as thou art?" - -Such are the arguments he brought up against a charge of bad manners: -singing, dancing, handy at a tea-table, wearing the best lace and linen -and cutting a bold dash. The perfect gentleman indeed! The acme of -culture! He, with all the others of his kidney, put in an appearance at -Lyne's coffee-house in academical undress somewhere about eleven -o'clock--that is to say, immediately after a gentle dalliance with -breakfast. Here he discussed the topics of the hour, heard the latest -news, enjoyed the latest scandals, and then strolled in the Park or under -Merton wall. Those who made no pretensions to "Smartness" were meanwhile -dining in Hall--a thing far beneath the dignity of a Buck of the first -head who ate in solitary dignity in his own chamber, his meal consisting, -for example, of "boil'd chicken and pettitoes." After resting awhile, he -spent an hour or so in overcoming the difficulties of dressing. That -satisfactorily concluded, it was his bounden duty to make an afternoon -appearance at Lyne's. About five o'clock he dropped in at Hamilton's, -where he "struts about the room for a while and drinks a dram of citron." -Thence he returned to college and adjourned to the chapel "to shew how -genteely he dresses, and how well he can chaunt." Having given conclusive -demonstrations of these two accomplishments, he drank tea with some -celebrated toast and attended her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Such a ridiculous idea as work never entered his head. Any -time he might give to reading was employed in the study of novels and -romances. - -As an example of his passion for cleanliness at all costs, Terrae Filius -gave an account of an adventure of one of these gentry at Lyne's -coffee-house. "This afternoon, a noted Smart of Christ Church College, as -he was writing a _billet-doux_ had the misfortune to blot one of his -ruffles with a spot of ink, which put the gentleman in so great a -disorder, that he threw the standish through the window, stamped about the -room for half an hour together, and was often heard to say, I wonder that -gentlemen cannot find some cleaner method of conveying their thoughts, and -that he wished he might be blown up wherever he went, if he ever made use -of that filthy liquor again, though the displeasure of the whole fair sex -was the consequence. Let prigs and pedants, said he, keep all the nasty -manufacture to themselves." - -It is comforting to be assured that this elaborate sect was not entirely -composed of peers and gentleman commoners, for their street behaviour was -far worse than anything that even the most hypercritical Somerville -blue-stocking can accuse Undergraduates of to-day. "They cannot forbear -laughing," said Amhurst, "at every body that obeys the statutes, and -differs from them; or (as my correspondent expresses it in the proper -dialect of the place) that does not cut as bold a dash as they do. They -have singly, for the most part, very good assurances; but when they walk -together in bodies (as they often do), how impregnable are their -foreheads? They point at every foul they meet, laugh very loud, and -whisper as loud as they laugh. Demme, Jack, there goes a prig! Let us blow -the puppy up. Upon which they all stare him full in the face, turn him -from the wall as he passes by, and set up an horse laugh, which puts the -plain raw novice out of countenance, and occasions great triumph amongst -these tawdry desperadoes." - -Like all hooligans they were thorough cowards unless backed up by vastly -superior numbers. It took about twenty of them, and that with the -assistance of Dutch courage, to frighten some three or four foreigners and -to kick a Presbyterian parson out of a coffee-house. They were for the -most part sons of country farmers with practically no money who got into -the Smart set immediately after coming up, and who remained Smarts just so -long as the "mercers, taylors, shoe makers, and perriwig-makers will tick -with them." Tradesmen of that day were apparently possessed of far longer -patience than most of the present generation. To-day they despatch -solicitor's letters after two terms. Then they allowed a bill to lie -fallow (with the usual accretion of interest) for three or four years. - -With his usual quaint humour Amhurst declared that he has seen these same -Smarts two or three years afterwards "in gowns and cassocks, walking with -demure looks and an holy leer; so easy is the transition from dancing to -preaching, and from the bowling-green to the pulpit." - -The Rev. Richard Graves, a Pembroke man, in 1732, related that he became -friends with a genial crowd who passed their evenings in drinking strong -ale, smoking like chimneys, punning, and singing Bacchanalian catches. -Some gentlemen commoners, however, Smarts, who came from the same part of -the country as Graves, rescued him from the ill-bred hands of such low -company--so considered chiefly on account of the liquor they drank. In his -own words "they good-naturedly invited me to their party: they treated me -with port wine and arrack-punch; and then, when they had drunk so much, as -hardly to distinguish wine from water, they would conclude with a bottle -or two of claret. They kept late hours and drank their favourite toasts on -their knees. This was deemed good company and high life; but it neither -suited my taste, my fortune, or my constitution." - -Night after night of this deep drinking made the fortunes of the -spirit-merchants, but left some of the drinkers soddened and useless. I -may quote, as an instance, the case of Lord Lovelace. - -It is a well-known fact that the Principal of his Hall reported, and that -truthfully, that "he never knew him sober but twelve hours and that he -used every morning to drink a quart of brandy, or something equivalent to -it, to his own share." Hearne, too, in his diary makes reference to a -commoner of Magdalen Hall, a son of Dr Inett, who was found dead from -drinking ale and brandy. There were three companions with him, but they -were merely asleep under the table. Professor Pryme, who was up at the end -of the eighteenth century, afterwards wrote that when Hall was over it was -the fashion to collect a large party together to drink wine with a little -dessert. "The host," he said, "named a Vice-President, and toasts were -given. First a lady by each of the party, then a gentleman, and then a -sentiment. I remember one of these latter, the single married and the -married happy. Every one was required to fill a bumper to the toasts of -the President, the Vice-President, and his own. If any one wished to go to -chapel he was pressed to return afterwards."[5] - -The fact, however, that toping constituted such an important feature of -Undergraduate life, among Smarts and non-Smarts equally is not a matter -for vast amazement, or stern condemnation. _Quis custodiet ipsos -custodes?_--for the Dons were if anything even worse than those to whom -they stood in _loco parentis_. The whole world of Dons, from the humblest -and most juvenile Fellow to the king of kings, the Head of a college or -Hall, cultivated the vice of drink as assiduously as if it were a virtue. -Oxford was not so far away from London as not to reflect the manners and -habits of the capital, and since to the Bucks of London abnormal drinking -was then the highest good form, it is not to be wondered at that the -Undergraduates, ever of tender years and advanced imitative faculties, -should give a brilliant reflection of the metropolis. - -Amhurst has pointed out that the Smarts never read anything but plays, -novels, and French comedies. When _The Student_ appeared, however, they -took it up more or less whole-heartedly. In these days of photographic -(that being the polite way of spelling pornographic) weeklies, a new -venture in 'varsity journals is greeted as a nine days' wonder. However -good the contents provided, the Oxford man prefers to look upon the -fetching features--and limbs, of footlight favourites in papers provided -free of charge in the Junior Common Room. Consequently the rash starter of -a "'varsity rag" is compelled to retire from the lists after the first two -or three issues. In the old days, however, even the _blasé_ Smart had some -initiative left to him in matters of literature. He supported the new -paper with enthusiasm and read every number carefully. After some time he -found that the editor was catering too freely for the Dons. Instead, -however, of discontinuing his subscription he wrote to the editor and -appealed on the grounds that _The Student_ was becoming too prosy and -_Spectator_-like, and urged him to keep it lighter in tone. The following -is an extract from the letter sent in:-- - - "----'S COFFEE-HOUSE, _May 4_. - - "BROTHER STUDENT,--Without a compliment I am much pleased with your - scheme, and heartily wish you success. Hitherto I think you bid fair - for it, and seem to meet with general applause. But will you forgive - my offering a word or two of advice? Let us have no more of your - abstract speculations, as you call them; indeed they are not popular. - Last night, in a full assembly of pretty fellows at this place (all - your admirers), Billy Languish read your fourth number. We all agreed - that your 'Impudence' is inimitable, but your 'letter in defence of - religion,' tho' it did not startle us (as you apprehended it would) - somewhat amazed us, I must own. Consider, Mr Student, you write for - the publick of which three fourths are ignoramuses, and therefor, tho' - we may allow you now and then in compliment to your taylor and mercer - and other learned folks, to insert a Latin ode or epigram, yet I must - needs tell you, that we don't relish your metaphysics. For which - reason I am directed by all the Smarts at ----'s, to acquaint you, - that we expect (especially if it be English), at least to understand - what we read. We consider your book as a monthly feast or - entertainment; and if we pay our ordinary, 'tis but reasonable the - dishes you set before us should be such as we are able to taste. We - cannot indeed always expect rarities, and may now and then admit of a - trifle or puff by way of make up; but prithee don't surfeit us with - ambigu's and inconnu's. At the same time I must tell you, that we are - much pleased with your last Sapphic, that we reverence Tony Alsop's - memory, and have resolv'd one and all to subscribe to his works. Billy - Languish and Dick Dimple indeed say, the 'verses on the grotto' are - better; and Dick (who you know is a wit as well as a beau) gave us - off hand a translation of them, but I have indeed since found out - where he borrows it.--I am yours, - - HARRY DIDAPPER." - -The _habitués_ of the unknown coffee-house, all pretty fellows, looked -upon _The Student_ as a "monthly feast of entertainment!" For all their -soaking and "wenching" and slacking they would seem to have had a certain -amount of brain and appreciative capability left to them. - -In a subsequent chapter I shall set down the methods by which these men -obtained their degrees after having spent some six or seven years inside -the old walls of the university. They had as little time for work as the -"bloods" of to-day whose every moment is claimed by matters of far greater -moment than mere study! To a certain extent the Smarts, though they -perhaps did not know it, were philosophers. They said to themselves that -life was short and youth shorter still, that therefore it behoved them to -cram in to the six years of their university career as much pleasure, -excitement, and amusement as was possible. The eighteenth century lent -itself whole-heartedly to this programme. The Dons, who should have been -intent on governing Oxford, had other game afoot. The Undergraduates were -thus left to their own devices, and the Smarts were the first to take -advantage of such Arcadian conditions. They delayed the hour of rising -until the sun grew weary of calling them out. There was no stern shepherd -to round them into chapel at the ungodly hour of eight o'clock. Like -butterflies they flitted from place to place at the caprice of the moment. -They held Bacchanalian revels in and out of college without regard to Dons -and statutes. Their paramours, far from being ejected from the city, were -shared with the authorities, thus proving that they had a better -understanding of real socialism than the exponents of to-day. The same -cobbled streets that hear us shouting our way home in the small hours, saw -the Georgian men staggering along with tight-linked arms in the silvery -moonlight, while Big Tom boomed out the birth of a new day. - -As year after year slipped relentlessly off the calender they absorbed the -unique atmosphere of Oxford, fully appreciating under their mask of -_blasé_ scorn the traditions and the unforgettable charm of _Alma mater_. -They carried their love and reverence for her to the grave, and gave proof -of it by sending their sons and grandsons to swell the never-ending -procession of men who sing the praises of Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven--The President - under her thumb--Amhurst's table of cons.--King Charles and the other - place. - - -What is an Oxford toast? For answer I cannot do better than turn to that -Oxford _Encyclopædia_, Terrae Filius, who from the ambush of his -anonymity, directed his fire upon all toasts with unerring aim and deadly -effect. - -"She is born, as the King says, of mean estate, being the daughter of some -insolent mechanick, who fancies himself a gentleman and resolves to keep -up his family by marrying his girl to a parson or a schoolmaster; to which -end, he and his wife call her pretty miss, as soon as she knows what it -means, and sends her to the dancing school to learn how to hold up her -head, and turn out her toes; she is taught from a child not to play with -any of the dirty boys and girls in the neighbourhood; but to mind her -dancing, and have a great respect for the gown. This foundation being -laid, she goes on fast enough of herself, without any farther assistance, -except an hoop, a gay suit of cloaths, and two or three new holland -smocks. Thus equipt, she frequents all the balls and publick walks in -Oxford; where it is a great chance if she does not, in time, meet with -some raw coxcomb or other, who is her humble servant; waits upon her home, -calls upon her again the next day; dangles after her from place to place; -and is at last, with some art and management, drawn in to marry her. - - "She has impudence--therefore she has wit; - She is proud--therefore she is well bred; - She has fine Cloaths--therefore she is genteel; - She would fain be a wife-and therefore she is not a Wh--re." - -Amhurst also informed his readers that they appeared principally in -summer, like butterflies, when they flitted from flower to flower of the -Smarts under Merton Wall. "The toasts," he remarked, "are scouring up and -new-trimming their best gowns and petticoats against the summer, and -intend to make a splendid appearance." These ladies were an extremely -conspicuous feature of Undergraduate life. In the description of the -Smart's day we are told how after chapel he drank tea with some celebrated -toast, and then waited upon her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Afterwards, when drowning his sorrows at the particular -establishment in vogue at the time, the Smart exhausted himself in his -efforts to dash off a sonnet to her eyelashes or a rhapsody in praise of -her tip-tilted nose. He drank her health upon his knees, tossing off a -non-heeltaps to every letter of her name. His day was considered wasted -unless he were seen in all his delicate apparel in company with the -acknowledged reigning queen among toasts. - -One lady, by name of Flavia, kept an orange tree growing in the window of -her bed-chamber. This inspired a burst of classic poetry from a Buck who -saw and envied it. In one of the volumes of Terrae Filius a most amusing -story was related which shows what influence these toasts exercised upon -the Undergraduates. She, too, answered to the name of Flavia--whether she -were one and the same as the horticultural lady it is impossible to say. A -"promising lad" came up and was recognised by his master--of whom he was -"a very favourite"--to be a "diligent and ingenious scholar." - -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE FIRST QUADRANGLE.] - -That character he maintained for some time, keeping to his chamber and his -books, with sported oak, and not concerning himself with the vagaries of -fashion; "indeed the poor young fellow did not dress smart; nay, often was -really dirty." Gradually he made the acquaintance of some noted Bucks and -sought their society and conversation out of curiosity. But they -continually ragged him about his shabby appearance. "Dick!" said they, -"prithee let's burn this damned brown wig of thine; get thee a little more -linnen." The lad for a time was obdurate, but at last put forward in -excuse that "this alteration of himself would make him be taken too much -notice of, and, it may be, his new dress might sit so awkward, that he -would become the jest of his acquaintance." This was a set-back to the -friends, but they came to the cunning conclusion that he might be tricked -into it. So they buttonholed him. "Dick," said one, "did you never see -Miss Flavia, one of our top toasts?" "No," quoth he, "unless at her -window." "Well, faith," said the friend, "to be plain, she likes you, I -myself heard her say in public company, I have been shew'd Mr Such-a-one -several times; everybody says he's a man of fire; it is a thousand pities -he's such a sloven." Dick was finished. He went home obsessed with the -idea, flung his wig into the fire, forgot his studies entirely and swore -to see Flavia the very next day. His friends spread a rumour abroad that -he had come into money, and his tradesmen gave him unlimited credit. -Accordingly he was decked out, in ruffles and all the other paraphernalia, -and from that day worshipped at the lady's shrine. In these days such fair -Flavias would in all probability be found pulling beer in a public-house, -totally devoid of H's, but none the less popular among a certain set. -To-day they can be treated with a certain amount of Undergraduate levity, -but in the eighteenth century it behoved the contumelious to walk -delicately and to be very careful. Amhurst hoisted the danger signal when -he related that "not long ago, a bitter lampoon was published upon the -most celebrated of these petticoat-professors, as soon as it came out the -town was in an uproar, and a very severe sentence was passed upon the -author of this anonymous libel; to discover whom no pains were spared; all -the disgusted, ill-natured fellows in the university were, one after -another, suspected upon this occasion. At last, I know not how, it was -peremptorily fixed upon one; whether justly, or not, I cannot say; but the -parties offended resolved to make an example of somebody for such an -enormous crime, and one of them (more enraged than the rest) was heard to -declare 'that, right or wrong, that impudent scoundrel (mentioning his -name) should be expelled, by G--d; and that she had interest enough with -the president and senior fellows of his college to get his business -done.'" And the scandalous part of the business was that the president and -senior fellows who had evidently had relations with the woman in question -were such cowards as to yield to her demands, which probably took the form -of threats of exposure against themselves, and sent the unoffending man -down for good. - -In his character of general reformer Terrae Filius felt himself compelled, -however reluctantly, to "draw his pen against womenkind"--the womenkind of -Oxford. His apology for so doing was that "I shall have the misfortunes of -numberless young men to answer for, if I conceal anything which may be for -their advantage, or spare any abuses in the universities, though committed -by the fairest offenders." - -After a disquisition on love, which he described as "a most arbitrary -passion," which "engrosses the whole man ... and grumbles at its own -poverty and searches after new acquisitions," he continued "conscious of -this truth, our wise forefathers took all possible care to purge the seats -of learning of these shining temptations, these dangerous decoys of youth; -but as all their prudence and precaution could not do this entirely, they -made a statute, 'prohibiting all scholars, as well as Graduates or -Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to frequent the houses and shops of -any townsmen by day, and especially by night; but more especially houses, -which harbour or receive infamous or suspected women, with whom all -scholars are strictly forbid to keep company, either in their own private -chambers, or at the houses of any townsmen.' I suppose it will be objected -by the Smarts, or others, that this statute extends only to common -prostitutes or night-walkers, and not to those divine creatures dignified -by the name of toasts; but I think that it includes all suspected women, -and especially the toasts, for the following reasons:-- - -"1. Because it was not the only design of the statute to restrain the -scholars from debauchery (from which, I hope, they need no forcible -restraint!) but to prevent them also from neglecting their studies, and -entering into scandalous marriages; of which they are in no danger from -common strumpets and mercenary street-walkers. - -"2. Because there was no occasion for a statute against common whores, any -more than against house-breakers and pickpockets, which are all punishable -by the laws of the land. - -"3. Because I have a better opinion of the townsmen of Oxford (who are, -many of them, matriculated men), than to believe that they would entertain -in their houses such filthy drabs; though it is probable enough that they -would marry their daughters to advantage if they could; in which I can see -no great harm on their parts. - -"4. Because I have a better opinion of the scholars too, than to believe -that they would keep company with such cattle; and I think it is a scandal -to the university to stand in need of a statute, which supposes that any -of her hopeful children are addicted to such beastliness." - -Amhurst's reasons are logical enough to convince the meanest intelligence -of the true nature of the Oxford toasts. In support of them he brings up -no less a second than King Charles I., who wrote officially and at some -length on the question of university government to the Vice-Chancellor and -Heads of Cambridge commanding the suppression of women such as those in -question. The reason why the good King did not treat Oxford to a similar -injunction is, supposedly, that the need for it did not reach the royal -ears. It is hinted more than once, too, in the pages of Terrae Filius that -the Dons themselves entertained feelings of sympathy towards the toasts, -and shielded them from royal visitations by intentionally keeping things -quiet. Judging from the character of the Dons in the eighteenth century it -is highly probable that such was indeed the case. - -"Happy is it," says Amhurst, "for the present generation of Oxford toasts, -that King Charles I. (so much unlike that accomplished gentleman, his son) -was long ago laid in the dust! Were that rigid King now alive, my mind -misgives me strangely, that I should see an end of all the balls and -cabals, and junketings at Oxford; that several of our most celebrated and -beautiful madams would pluck off their fine feathers, and betake -themselves to an honest livelihood; or make their personal appearance -before the lords of his majesty's privy council, to answer their contempt, -and such other matters as should be objected against them." - -Unmourned and besmirched the last of the Oxford toasts has long since -passed beyond the judgment of man. The Dons were in all too many cases the -cause of sending recruits to the ranks of the oldest profession in the -world. Heads of colleges, reverend clerics, and holders of Fellowships -must all answer to the charge of "wenching." - -[Illustration: A VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN.] - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -The Servitor - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors. - - -In the year of grace nineteen hundred and eleven there are three main -divisions of the genus Undergraduate:--scholars, commoners, and "toshers," -the last sometimes known as non-collegiate Undergraduates. Under a fourth -heading, which constitutes a small subdivision all by itself, I may place -the working-men Undergraduates--the members of Ruskin Hall. Georgian -Undergraduates might also be split up into parallel divisions. There were -also servitors, who were, in some sort, the ancient form of the -working-men Undergraduates of the twentieth century. - -Oxford in Georgian times was, according to the popular conception, a place -where peers and rich men sent their sons in order that they might receive -a better education than anywhere else in the world. The erudition, -classical learning, and brilliance of the Dons passed all belief. Nowhere -on earth was there gathered together a body of men with such knowledge and -brain power. Did any man yearn for instruction in any subject, Oxford was -the only place where that subject was exhaustively known and thoroughly -taught. - -It naturally followed, therefore, that the lower classes, who drudged all -day in the effort to keep body and soul together, and provide the -wherewithal to fill the stomachs of their hungry progeny, left Oxford -outside their calculations when discussing the prospective education of -their children. Oxford was a place for rich men. How, then, could their -sons go there? It was impossible. Meanwhile, the children were clamouring -for education. What was to be done? - -Through the influence of rich men who had been to the university the -penniless lads were taken from the plough and entered into colleges as -errand boys and odd-job hands. They were at liberty to pick up what -education they could in the intervals of performing menial tasks for the -gentlemen commoners. They cleaned boots, fetched and carried, and were the -servants of anybody who chose to order them about. Having no money they -slept in coal-holes, cupboards under the stairs, and attics under the -eaves, and satisfied the pangs of hunger by picking up the crumbs which -fell from the rich men's tables. They had no social intercourse with the -gentlemen commoners, and were treated with scant courtesy by the college -servants. - -The resemblance between the servitor and the Ruskin Hall man is apparent -when due allowance has been made for modern improvements. The modern -conception of Oxford is curiously akin to that of the eighteenth century. -The education to be received still has a very high reputation. The present -day working classes, however, possess a greater ambition than their -antecedents showed. They are no longer content to snatch education in the -intervals of earning their keep. Ruskin Hall has been built for their -especial benefit. There they may win scholarships to their heart's -content. Their kinship with the humble servitor lies in the fact that they -do their own menial work instead of having to do it for others; that they -have no social intercourse with the Undergraduates of other colleges -except at the weekly debates of the Union Society in which they -distinguish themselves by their fluent Socialistic doctrines; and that -they take no part in the athletic and collegiate life of the university. - -One of the earliest references to servitors in the eighteenth century -records is contained in a comedy entitled "An Act at Oxford." The play was -written in 1704 by a dramatist named Baker. - -One of the characters was a servitor named Chum. His father was a -chimney-sweep and his mother a poor ginger-bread seller at Cow Cross. Chum -was established in Brazen-Nose College, and his duties consisted in -waiting "upon Gentleman-Commoners, to dress and clean their shoes and make -out their exercises." His "fortune," which was "soon told," consisted -apparently of "two Raggs call'd shirts, a dog's eared Grammer, and a piece -of _Ovid de Tristibus_." For having materially assisted his master, a -Smart, to win the hand and heart of a fair damsel known as Berynthia, he -was rewarded, in the play, with the sum of five hundred guineas--an -occurrence which would be the height of improbability in real life, as the -servitor was jeered at and made a kind of Aunt Sally by all and sundry. - -In 1709 one of those poor miserable wretches sat him down--where he -procured pen and paper is still shrouded in mystery--and wrote a poem on -his own doleful condition. Its title is "Servitour," and it was printed by -"H. Hills in Black-Fryars, near the water side." He pictured himself to be -coming out of a Skittle Yard in his "rusty round cap." - - "Like Cheesy Pouch of Shon-ap-Shenkin, - His Sandy locks, with wide Hiatus, - Like Bristles seem'd Erected at us, - Clotted with Sweat, the Ends hung down; - And made Resplendent Cape of Gown; - Whose Cape was thin, and so Transparent, - Hold it t' th' Light, you'd scarce beware on't - 'Twixt Chin and Breast contiguous Band, - Hung in an Obtuse Angle and-- - It had a Latitude Canonick, - His coat so greasy was and torn, - That had you seen it you'd ha' sworn - 'Twas Ten Years old when he was born. - His buttons fringed as is the Fashion, - In Gallick and Brittanick Nation; - Or, to speak like more Modern fellows, - Their moulds dropt out like ripe Brown-shellers. - His Leather Galligaskin's rent, - Made Artless Music as he went.... - His Holey Stockins were ty'd up, - One with a Band, one with a Rope." - -In such clothes as these, the extreme poverty of which would bring a blush -to the cheek of the modern Oxford paper-boy, this gloomy poet had to go to -the Buttery and procure game and capons, ribs of beef, and other succulent -dainties for some gentleman commoner's dinner, while for himself there was -nothing but "Poor scraps and Cold as I'm a sinner." As a place to lay his -head o' nights, he was thankful to get a lumber-room in the apex of the -building, somewhere under the eaves, - - "A Room with Dirt and Cobwebs lin'd, - Which here and there with Spittle Shin'd; - Inhabited let's see--by Four; - If I mistake not, 'twas no more. - Two buggy beds.... - Their Dormer windows with brown paper, - Was patch'd to keep out Northern Vapour. - The Table's broken foot stood on, - An old Schrevelious Lexicon, - Here lay together Authors various, - From Homer's _Iliad_, to Cordelius: - And so abus'd was Aristotle, - He only served to stop a bottle.... - Where eke stood Glass, Dark-Lanthorns ancient - Fragment of Mirerr, Penknife, Trencher, - And forty things which I can't mention. - Old Chairs and Stools, and such-like Lumber, - Compleatly furnisht out the Chamber." - -George Whitefield, a servitor at Pembroke in 1732, also shared his rooms -with others. His companions, however, did not appear to have suffered -unduly from the usual depression caused by their hard lot, for they -frequently invited Whitefield to join them "in their excess of riot," and -looked upon him as a weird and extraordinary creature for his persistent -refusals. His account of the manner of his admission to Pembroke College -is characteristic of the man, and gives an idea of what tasks servitors -were called upon to perform. - -"Being now near eighteen years old, it was judged proper for me to go to -the university. God had sweetly prepared my way. The friends before -applied to, recommended me to the Master of Pembroke College. Another -friend took up ten pounds upon bond (which I have since repaid), to defray -the first expence of entring; and the Master, contrary to all -expectations, admitted me servitor immediately. - -"Soon after my admission I went and resided, and found my having been used -to a publick-house was now of service to me. For many of the servitors -being sick at my first coming up, by diligent and ready attendance I -ingratiated myself into the gentlemen's favour so far, that many, who had -it in their power, chose me to be their servitor. - -"This much lessened my expence; and indeed, God was so gracious, that, -with the profits of my place, and some presents made me by my kind tutor, -for almost the first three years I did not put all my relations together -to above £24 expence. - -"And it has often grieved my soul to see so many young students spending -their substance in extravagant living, and thereby entirely unfitting -themselves for the prosecution of their proper studies." - -Because he became a Methodist and attended seriously to his religious -duties, Whitefield was badly ragged. The fact that a servitor should make -any claims to superior godliness made his employers, for some reason, -acutely annoyed. "I daily underwent some contempt at college," he wrote, -"some have thrown dirt at me; others, by degrees, took away their pay from -me; and two friends that were dear unto me, grew shy of, and forsook me." - -One of his lay duties as servitor consisted in going round to the -gentlemen's rooms at ten o'clock at night and knocking to find out who was -in--the majority of them being at that hour, doubtless, discussing punch -and claret in the Mitre or Tuns. All those who made no answer to his knock -were reported and received punishment for being out of college after -hours. - -Of his college exercises he wrote as follows:-- - -"Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme, I had no power to write a -word nor so much as tell my Christian friends of my inability to do it. -Saturday being come (which is the day the students give up their -compositions), it was suggested to me that I must go down into the Hall -and confess I could not make a theme, and so publickly suffer, as if it -were for my Master's sake. When the bell rung to call us, I went to open -the door to go downstairs, but feeling something give me a violent inward -check, I entered my study, and continued instant in prayer, waiting the -event. For this my tutor fined me half a crown. The next week Satan served -me in like manner again; but having now got more strength, and perceiving -no inward check, I went into the Hall. My name being call'd, I stood up, -and told my tutor I could not make a theme. I think he fined me a second -time; but, imagining that I would not willingly neglect my exercise, he -afterwards called me into the common room, and kindly enquired whether any -misfortune had befallen me, or what was the reason I could not make a -theme? I burst into tears, and assured him that it was not out of contempt -of authority, but that I could not act otherwise. Then, at length, he -said he believed I could not; and, when he left me, told a friend (as he -very well might), that he took me to be really mad." - -Besides cleaning boots, fetching and carrying, running errands and -performing other menial services of a like nature, the servitors jumped at -the opportunity of earning odd pence by writing out the impositions to -which their masters had been condemned by the Proctors. - - "For should grave Proctor chance to meet - A buck in boots along the street - He stops his course and with permission - Asking his name, sets imposition, - Which to get done, if he's a ninny - He gives his barber half a guinea. - This useful go-between will share it - With servitor in college garret, - Who counts these labours sweet as honey - Which brings to purse some pocket money."[6] - -Other methods of pocket filling to which servitors had recourse were -mentioned by Dr Johnson, who, writing to Tom Warton concerning the delay -in a work on Spenser caused by the number of his correspondents and pupils -at Oxford, said: "Three hours a day stolen from sleep and amusement will -produce it. Let a servitor transcribe the quotations, and interleave them -with references to save time." As, however, servitors were not admitted -within the sacred precincts of the Bodleian, transcription was necessarily -limited. This was a cause of great lamentation and outcry at the time from -the men, because they were compelled to do the work themselves, and from -the servitors because they were thus deprived of a means of earning a few -extra necessary pence. "Dr Hyde complains," says Wordsworth in his book on -the eighteenth century, "that some in the university have been very -troublesome in pressing that their servitors may transcribe manuscripts -for them, though not capable of being sworn to the Library." - -[Illustration: VIEW OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE.] - -For a commoner to be seen in public in the company of a servitor was a -"great disparagement." Consequently, if a servitor was sufficiently -blessed to be able to call a commoner friend, he must needs visit him -secretly, or under cover of darkness. It is on record that Shenstone, who -was a commoner of Pembroke, visited Jago a servitor, a friend of his, in -strict private because of this popular prejudice. When Erasmus was at -Queen's his servitor's rooms were immediately above his own. The poor -wretch, besides being at his master's beck and call, was very often the -slave of his master's mistress--an employ of vast uneasiness and -discomfort. - -In the _Oxford Chronicle_ in 1859, in a series of articles entitled -"Oxford during the Last Century," Aubrey describes Willis, the servitor of -Dr Iles, Canon of Christ Church, as studying in his blue livery cloak at -the lower end of the hall by the door, and assisting his master's wife in -mixing drugs. - -As a parallel case to that of Whitefield, who was a drawer in the Bell -Inn, Gloucester, Hearne tells "of one Lyne, son of a clergyman, and -grandson of the Town Clerk of Oxford, who was drawer at the King's Head -Tavern of that city, in 1735; his elder brother being Fellow of Emmanuel, -and his younger an eminent scholar of King's." - -It was no exaggeration to say that the servitors lived on the scraps from -the Undergraduates' tables. The following quotation shows the grinding -penury against which they had to struggle: "Of the poverty of the class," -wrote J. R. Green in his wonderful "Oxford Studies," "no better instance -can be found than Samuel Wesley, the father of the Wesleys who were to -change the whole state of religion in England, and himself a very stirring -person, to whom we shall have occasion subsequently to allude. He was the -son of an ejected and starving non-conformist minister, and when at the -age of sixteen he walked to Oxford and entered himself as a servitor at -Exeter, his whole worldly wealth amounted to no more than £2, 16s. Yet -after supporting himself during his whole university career without any -aid from his friends, save a trivial 5s., he set off to London to make a -plunge into life with a capital increased to £10, 15s. Five shillings, -however, sneer as we may, seem to have been no uncommon 'allowance' to a -servitor of the time."[7] - -These poor servitors did not feel any touch of shame or degradation at -having to clean boots and perform all the other dirty work of the place. -Why should they? Their poverty at Oxford was in no way different from that -in which they lived previously to their arrival at Oxford. It was merely a -change in locality. For they came, as has been shown, from plough and -public-house. - -There are many instances to show to what great use some of them put the -education which they managed to acquire during their servitorship. Sir -John Birkenhead was a servitor at Oriel, and during that period of his -afterwards noteworthy career, his brother was a trooper. It was only -through the kindheartedness of a patron that Bishop Robinson became the -servitor of Sir James Astrey at Brasenose. He was afterwards appointed to -a Fellowship at Oriel, was sent as an envoy to Sweden, and became Bishop -both of Bristol and London. In the days of his fame he was able to repay -in some sort the kindness of his patron by granting his son a chaplaincy; -and his love for the university is shown by the scholarships which he -founded at Oriel. - -Can Ruskin Hall point proudly to a son who has achieved such fame as -either of these ex-servitors? - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper's--Southey at Balliol--Cox's six-oared crew--The - riverside barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes against - games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses and - badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights--Paniotti's Fencing - Academy--Old-time "bug-shooters"--Skating in Christ Church - meadows--Cricket and the Bullingdon Club--Walking tours. - - -It would be impossible to live in Oxford and be healthy--except perhaps in -the summer term, if we are lucky enough to have any sun--without taking -exercise. It has long been a matter of wonder how those men keep fit who, -with the excuse of "having a heart" neither row, play soccer, rugger, -hockey, or any other of the strenuous games which keep the average -Undergraduate sound in wind and limb. As a matter of fact they don't. For -the "heart-y" gentlemen almost invariably take as many week-ends out of -Oxford as possible, and in most cases retire comfortably and ingloriously -to the paternal establishment and maternal care long before term is over. -The others, the normal people, the devotees of bone and muscle, the -"muddied oafs and flannelled fools"--(which is the only mistake Mr Kipling -ever made)--are never ill, at least from climatic effects. They may strain -something, or even break a few bones, but that cannot be put down to the -Oxford weather. The best doctors on earth, or rather the best -preventatives against illness--and there is a great difference--are the -river, the football and hunting fields, and the boxing ring, and as we -find these things to be true to-day so in old times, when wigs and ruffles -were somewhat of a handicap to the taking of hard exercise, these -remedies against the Oxford climate were adopted with almost the same -keenness. The word almost is used advisedly because the percentage of -"bloods" who did nothing strenuous was far larger, and the possibilities -in things sporting were not nearly so great. We have changed all that, and -can afford a smile of condescension when, seated on the alleviating -pontius in a "Rough" eight, with its simple-looking sliding seat, its -hair-thick outer shell and its wonderful travelling possibilities, we -think of the heavy gigs and six-oared boats into which our predecessors -"tumbled," clad in catskin caps and leather trousers. - -Nevertheless the river was just as popular then though for quite different -reasons. There were no rowing Blues to be had in those days; no presidents -of boat clubs--no boat clubs even. There was only Dame Hooper's--an -odd-looking, tumble-down, shed-like place, where the gownsmen blarneyed -the old lady and hired out skiffs, gigs, cutters, and canoes. Unlike our -togger men who, like strange hairy creatures from another planet, -hatlessly converge from all parts of the town through the Broad Walk to -the Barges, emitting yards of muscular leg for all the world to view in -amusement and admiration, the eighteenth-century wet-bobs went down to the -river in square--or, as they called it, trencher--and gown. But Dame -Hooper was old, unskittish, and trustworthy, and so they threw off their -academical garb in her shed and arrayed themselves in the trousers, -jackets, and caps which were then the thing. It might well be thought that -these were a great hindrance to correct 'varsity swinging. But they did -not worry their heads about that--there was no boat race to be taken into -agitated consideration--and it has been left for 1911 to pour out its -bleeding heart in vehement controversy anent the true 'varsity style as -opposed to the new fangled Belgian method. In those days the motto was air -and exercise. Now, dare it be said, the river is a business, a -profession, to which are consecrated all the waking moments, and many of -those which we should like to dedicate to bed, of our whole university -careers. - -Southey, who was, oddly enough, a Balliol man, said that he only learned -two things at Oxford--to swim and to row. After he went down he wrote the -following description of the river:-- - -"A number of pleasure boats were gliding in all directions upon this clear -and rapid stream; some with spread sails; in others the caps and tassels -of the students formed a curious contrast with their employment at the -oar. Many of the smaller boats had only a single person in each; and in -some of these he sat face forward, leaning back as in a chair, and plying -with both hands a double-bladed oar in alternate strokes, so that his -motion was like the path of a serpent. One of these canoes is, I am -assured, so exceedingly light, that a man can carry it; but few persons -are skilful or venturous enough to use it."[8] - -It would be well worth while to watch the face of one of these timid -canoers if we could bring him down to the barges to-day to one of the -"rag" regattas and show him scores of "venturous persons" who not only -dispense with paddles, but dash about in a Canadian canoe with a punt -pole. - -G. V. Cox told us that in 1790 there were no races, but that "men went to -Nuneham for occasional parties in six-oared boats (eight-oared boats were -then unknown), but these boats belonged to the boat people; the crew was a -mixed crew got up for the day, and the dresses worn anything but uniform. -I belonged to a crew of five, who were, I think, the first distinguished -by a peculiar (and what would now be thought a ridiculous) dress, viz., a -green leather cap, with a jacket and trousers of nankeen!"[9] - -There are many recent boat club presidents who proudly show souvenirs of -love passages with every barmaid from Folly Bridge to Abingdon, and up the -Cher to Water Eaton. The fair damsels of the Cherwell Hotel are indeed the -sole reasons why hordes of Undergraduates punt out there to lunch on -Sundays, when they might just as easily, and far less expensively, take -luncheon baskets with them--as they do if their people are up! But there -is nothing original in all this. The same touch of old Adam existed in the -coffee-house period, as is shown by the following lines:-- - - "We visit Sandford next and there - Beckley provides accustomed fare - Of eels and perch and brown beef-steak.... - Whilst Hebe-like his daughter waits, - Froths our full bumpers, changes plates. - The pretty handmaid's anxious toils - Meanwhile our mutual praise beguiles, - Whilst she, delighted, blushing sees - The bill o'erpaid and pockets fees - Supplied for ribbon or for lace - To deck her bonnet or her face." - -To-day Hebe has become _blasé_ and cannot blush with any readiness, nor is -she so anxious in her toils. The chaste salute and the overpaid bill are -features of our own time, and will remain, from generation to generation, -as long as Oxford is a university, and there are hotels on the Cher. The -same poet goes on to describe the way in which he was taught to sail by a -friend who was already an expert. - - "At Folly Bridge we hoist the sail, - And briskly scud before the gale - To Iffley--where our course awhile - Detain--its locks and Saxon pile - Affording pause; to recommend - The Hobby-horse unto my friend. - Our light-built galley; ours I say - Since Warren bears an equal sway - In her command; as first, in cost - The half he shared; himself a host - Whether he plies the limber oar - Or tows the vessel from the shore; - Or strains the main sheet tight astern - Close to the wind; of him I learn - Patient to wait the time exact - When jib and foresail should be back'd - To bring her round; or mark the strain - The boat on gunwale can sustain - Without aught danger of upsetting, - Or giving both her mates a wetting."[10] - -[Illustration: NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON'S STUDY AT OXFORD.] - -A glance at the statutes shows that the river was almost the only form of -athletics then permissible, for the prohibited sports included "every kind -of game in which money is concerned, such as dibs, dice, cards, cricketing -in private grounds or gardens of the townspeople ... every kind of game or -exercise from which danger, injury, or inconvenience might arise to other -people, such as hunting of beasts with any sort of dogs, ferrets, nets or -toils, also any use or carrying of muskets, cross-bows, or falchions; -neither rope-dancers nor actors, nor shows of gladiators are to be -permitted without especial sanction; moreover, the scholars are not to -play at football, nor with cudgels, either among themselves or with the -townsfolk, a practice from which the most perilous contentions have -arisen." - -During the earlier half of the century, bell ringing was a form of -amusement--and exercise--which was very largely indulged in. At any hour -of the day it was the custom to go up into the belfry and practice, with -such zest that the ringer sometimes fell from sheer exhaustion. Hearne was -known to take a keen interest in the matches which were sometimes -arranged between different peals of bells, while Antony Wood, some years -before, had joined with his mother and brothers in subscribing towards the -foundation of the Merton bells and, as Wordsworth says, "though they were -not satisfactory to the 'curious and critical hearer,' he plucked at them -often with some of his fellow-collegians for recreation sake." Later on, -however, this practice was generally voted boring and even vulgar, and the -more "aristocratic door bell and knocker ringing" succeeded it. Hearne -himself was pleased to countenance bell-ringing, yet when a proposal was -afoot to found "an academy of exercise in the university such as riding -the great horse, fencing, etc.," he would not hear of it or entertain the -idea for a moment. "I think," said he, "'twould have utterly obstructed -all true learning." - -Horses, in spite of Hearne, were popular among Dons and Undergraduates. -The "Female Student," writing a letter to _The Student_, summed up the -tastes of a Master of Arts as consisting of "the college-hall, the -common-room, the coffee-house, and now and then a ride to the -Gog-magog-hills." The now and then was probably accounted for by the -expensiveness attaching to the hobby. There were, however, several -stable-keepers at the time who, starting with a diminutive capital, -retired after a very few years in the business with large fortunes. G. V. -Cox, the member of the crew in nankeen trousers, says that it was quite a -usual thing "for a gentleman (the Oxford tradesman's designation of a -member of the university) to ride a match against time to London and back -again to Oxford (108 miles) in twelve hours or less with, of course, -relays of horses at regular intervals. In one instance this was done in -eight hours and forty-five minutes.... Betting was, no doubt, the first -and chief motive; a foolish vanity the second; the third cause was the -absence at that time in the university of a better mode of proving pluck -and taming down the animal spirits of non-reading youngsters.... Hunting -then, as now, was an expensive amusement, only to be enjoyed by the few, -and by them only for a part of the year; racing had not then been thought -of ... but a gentleman need not learn to ride like a jockey."[11] - -Sir Erasmus Philipps must, therefore, have been a monied man, for in 1720, -when he was a Fellow-commoner of Pembroke, his outdoor sports took the -form of fox-hunting, attending cock-fights and horse-races, and riding to -Woodstock, Godstow, and Nuneham. Many of the horse-races took place on -Port Meadow. Terrae Filius, referring to "that famous apartment by idle -wits and buffoons nick-named Golgotha, _i.e._, the place of Sculls or -Heads of Colleges and Halls where they meet and debate upon all -extraordinary affairs which occur within the precincts of their -jurisdiction," says that "this room of state or academical council chamber -is adorn'd with a fine pourtrait of her late Majesty Queen Anne, which was -presented to this assembly by a jolly fox-hunter in the neighbourhood, out -of the tender regard which he bore to her pious memory, and to the -reverend Sculls of the university, who preside there; for which -benefaction they have admitted him into their company, and allow him the -honour to smoak a pipe with them twice a week." - -In one of the papers of _The Loiterer_ the writer described how Dr -Villars, Mr Sensitive, and himself went for a country walk and talk to Joe -Pullen's Tree. "As soon as we had reached this elevated situation, and -cast our eyes over the well-known view, a general silence took place for -some minutes. It was indeed a day for meditation. The sun emerging by fits -and starts from the grey fleckered clouds which overspread the whole -atmosphere, illuminated the projecting points of Magdalen and Merton -Towers, and shot its lengthened gleams across the pastures and meads, -which extend themselves in a long level to the north of the city, while -the woody hills of Wytham, rising boldly from behind a flat country, threw -over the whole background a broad mass of dark shadows broken only here -and there by a white sail, whose almost imperceptible motion just marked -the various turns and windings of the river.... A large party of very -dashing men rode by, mounted on cropt ponies, and followed by no -inconsiderable number of Tarriers. Of all sorts, sizes, and colours; and -as they did not ride very fast, and talked rather loud, we easily -discovered that the object of this grand cavalcade had been a -badger-baiting on Bullingdon Green; in the event of which combat they -seemed greatly interested, and were settling the merits of their different -dogs with great clamour, and not without some altercation." The solemn -statutes did not seem to worry those optimistic sportsmen overmuch on that -glorious summer day. - -Bull-baiting and cock-fighting, both, in their time, exceedingly popular -at the university were strongly put down by the authorities. One gathers -that it was usual at these affairs to start a free fight after the show, -in which the town and gown partisans did their best to kill or maim each -other for life. All things duly considered, therefore, it was, perhaps, a -wise step on the part of the Dons to forbid such affairs. Dr Rawlinson -made a regretful reference to one of these pitched battles: "A great -disturbance between the scholars of the university and the townsmen of -Heddington at a bull-baiting, at which some scholars were beaten." -Considering the tender years of most of the freshmen it is a matter for -great congratulation that they made such good stands against the -bullet-headed townees. They could not have done so but for the fact that -boxing was much followed among 'varsity men. They were to a large extent -keen patrons of the noble art of self-defence, and the chief instructors -about the year 1729 were none other than the celebrated Broughton and -Figg, who ran a saloon in London. The fact that this boxing academy was -far away from Oxford did not preclude the keenest pugilists from -journeying up to take lessons. Amhurst came across a crowd of -Undergraduates in an Oxford coffee-house one night just after Mendoza had -won a famous victory, and he was vastly entertained to hear their keenly -excited discussion of every lead and stop and hook and counter and to see -them turning and twisting their bodies in pugilistic attitudes in -illustration of the professional manner of planting each separate blow. -They seemed to know as much about the fight as if they had been present. - -In December 1729 the Mayor of Oxford licensed a prize fight to be held in -the town. Crowds attended in the assurance of a good morning's sport, but -at the last moment the Vice-Chancellor, a book-ridden, pompous, crusty old -curmudgeon, filled with the dignity of his office, appeared on the scene -and succeeded in putting a stop to it. It was a miracle that the assembled -multitude did not tear his robes off his back and put him in the ring to -stand up to one of the bruisers. - -In spite of Hearne's prognostication that the establishment of a fencing -academy would be the death of all true learning, an academy was started -some years later by a Greek of the name of Paniotti. He was "full of -sentiments of honour and courage, and of most independent spirit." R. L. -Edgeworth was a keen pupil of Paniotti, and it was at his school that he -became friends with Sir James M'Donald, who was "one of the greatest -scholars and mathematicians of his time." Their friendship was of short -duration, however, as Sir James died at Rome some five years later. - -Edgeworth has an interesting story about this fencing establishment. "Mr -L., a young gentleman of a noble family and of abilities, but of -overbearing manners, was our fellow pupil under Paniotti. At the same -school we met a young man of small fortune, and in a subordinate position -at Maudlin. - -"He fenced in a regular way, and much better than Mr L., who, in revenge, -would sometimes take a stiff foil that our master used for parrying, and -pretending to fence, would thrust it with great violence against his -antagonist. The young man submitted for some time to this foul play, but -at last he appealed to Paniotti, and to such of his pupils as were -present. Paniotti, though he had expectancies from the patronage of the -father of his nobly-born pupil, yet without hesitation condemned his -conduct. One day, in defiance of L.'s bullying pride, I proposed to fence -with him, armed as he was with this unbending foil, on condition that he -should not thrust at my face; but at the very first opportunity he drove -the foil into my mouth. I went to the door, broke off the buttons of two -foils, turned the key in the lock, and offered one of these extemporaneous -swords to my antagonist, who very prudently declined the invitation. This -person afterwards showed through life an unprincipled and cowardly -disposition."[12] - -While on the subject of fighting it is interesting to note that there were -such things as 'varsity "bug-shooters" even in those times, whose keenness -was far greater than that of the majority of the O.U.O.T.C., who slack -through just sufficient drills to enable them to put in a fortnight's -camping in summer. G. V. Cox says that there were "enrolled about five -hundred, commanded by Mr Coker of Bicester, formerly Fellow of New -College. Such indeed was the zeal and spirit called forth in those -stirring times by the threat of invasion that even clerical members did -not hesitate to join the ranks.... Some also of the most respectable of -the college servants were enrolled with their masters.... The dress or -uniform was of a very heavy character but also very imposing: a blue coat -(rather short but somewhat more than a jacket) faced with white duck -pantaloons, with a black leathern strap or garter below the knee, and -short black cloth gaiters. The headdress was also heavy; a beaver -round-headed hat surmounted by a formidable roll of bear-skin or something -of the kind."[13] - -Several years after the above incident in Paniotti's fencing school, an -article appeared in _The Student_. It was a fantastic account of "Several -Public Buildings in Oxford never before described" and contained the -following:-- - -"The several gymnasia constructed for the exercise of our youth, and a -relaxation from their severer studies, are not so much frequented as -formerly, especially in the summer; our ingenious gownsmen having found -out several sports which conduce to the same end, such as battle-door and -shuttle-cock, swinging on the rope, etc., in their apartments; or, in the -fields, leap-frog, tag, hop-step-and-jump, and among the rest, skittles; -which last is a truly academical exercise, as it is founded on -arithmetical and geometrical principles." - -Skinner, the poet, who sailed his yacht down to Sandford and rowed in Dame -Hooper's boats, seems to have been quite an all-round man. - - "If day prove only passing fair - I walk for exercise and air - Or for an hour skate, - For a large space of flooded ground - Which Christ Church gravel walks surround - Has solid froze of late. - - "Here graceful gownsmen silent glide, - Or noisy louts on hobnails slide, - Whilst lads the confines keep - Exacting pence from every one - As payment due for labour done - As constantly they sweep." - -His touch of "side" is not unfunny--the graceful 'varsity man is a picture -of all culture, while the townee is a lout because he slides on vulgar -hobnails. On several of the bard's sailing expeditions, after they had -dined chez Beckley, and duly tipped the girl, - - "A game of quoits will oft our stay - Awhile at Sandford Inn delay; - Or rustic nine-pins; then once more - We hoist our sail, and tug the oar."[14] - -He must doubtless have looked down upon his fellow quill driver in _The -Student_ as several parts of a fool for thinking rustic nine-pins "a truly -academical exercise, as it is founded on arithmetical and geometrical -principles." - -Cricket and tennis were not of much account. The Lownger described his -going after dinner to tennis, returning in time for chapel - - "From the Coffee House then I to Tennis away, - And at six I post back to my college to pray," - -while G. V. Cox, in his "Recollections," remembered that "the game of -cricket was kept up chiefly by the young men from Winchester and Eton, and -was confined to the old Bullingdon Club, which was expensive and -exclusive. The members of it, however, with the exception of a few who -kept horses, did not mind walking to and fro."[15] - -As a rather less strenuous form of exercise than eighteenth-century -cricket many men kept themselves fit by walking. Wordsworth points out -that "in 1799 Daniel Wilson writes to his father, that very few days -passed when he did not walk for about an hour." This exceedingly gentle -form of pedestrianism was only an end of century hobby. Earlier on men -seem to have been made of sterner stuff. The Greek Professor at Aberdeen, -Dr Thomas Blackwell, wrote to Warburton at Oxford in 1736 to beg him to -accompany Middleton and their common friend, Mr Gale, in a tour in -Scotland for two months in the summer during the long vacation. "In 1742 -Tho. Townson started for a three years' tour in France, Italy, Germany, -and Holland, with Dawkins, Drake, and Holdsworth. On his return from the -continent," the quotation is from Christopher Wordsworth, "he resumed in -College (Magdalen) the arduous and respectable employment of tuition, in -which he had been engaged before he went abroad. William Wordsworth took -walking tours in France 1790-91 (at a time no less awfully interesting -than that which the country has now been passing through) before and after -taking his degree." In the first instance he was accompanied by his -college friend Robert Jones, with about twenty pounds apiece in their -pockets. "Our coats which we had made light on purpose for that journey -are of the same piece," he wrote, "and our manner of carrying our bundles -which is upon our heads, with each an oak stick in our hands, contributes -not a little to the general curiosity which we seem to excite." - -[Illustration: A DUCK HUNT.] - -Had they but carried more money and travelled in luxury they would not -have been unlike the present-day Rhodes men, whose custom it is during -vacation to scour the ends of the earth. - -Inter-college and inter-'varsity athletic meetings were undreamed of in -the eighteenth century. Because Georgian Oxford men could not boast -representative colours, however, is no proof that they were not sportsmen. -It would be impossible to find a set of men in any century more ready for -deeds of daring do. They rode straight and ate hearty. They broke rules -and defied statutes with a zest that suggests anarchism. In spite of wigs -and ruffles they sped like hares down back alleys and scaled the high -college walls like monkeys to avoid a conversation with the Proctors and -their bulldogs. They sallied forth in trencher and gown, the insignia of -their allegiance to _Alma mater_, and in sheer high spirits set themselves -to bring about a fight with the jeering townees. Back to back they fought -against all odds, recking little of bleeding noses and broken pates. If -they drank too freely and encouraged the toasts, the blame was not -entirely theirs. They did but follow the fashion of the times. Their -password was thoroughness. Whatever they did, they did with all their -might. If they rang bells, they made the air hideous until they fell -exhausted. If they collected knockers they stripped a whole street before -their energy waned. If they slacked they slacked superbly. Without any of -the advantages brought about by modern ideas and inventions, our -predecessors were sportsmen to the core and just as we to-day employ every -moment of our four years to the fullest advantage so did the men who trod -Oxford streets in wigs and laces when she was two centuries younger. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the "Lunatics"--The Constitution - Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and minutes--High - Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers. - - -Year by year the places of those who go down are filled by succeeding -generations of public school men--men who are more conservative in ideas -than the members of any other class of society. Their immediate ambitions -are limited to achieving a Blue, capturing the presidency of the Union or -winning one of the big university prizes. - -They take things as they find them, and very rarely try to launch out on -new lines. They early discover that gregariousness is one of the chief -characteristics of an Oxford man. They find it exhibited in the -extraordinary number of clubs and societies in each college. Their natural -conservatism convinces them that as the forming of clubs is co-existent -with university life, they must not hesitate to follow the admirable -example of their seniors. With the untiring enthusiasm of youth they -concentrate their brains and energies therefore to the formation of new -clubs--having already become members of a great percentage of the -long-founded university clubs which are open to them. They make the -epoch-making discovery that many of their members have cut and dried ideas -on politics, and that others are big with new theories on social -conditions and the education of the masses. Heedless of the fact that in -reality these new theories and political arguments have been discussed and -thrashed out by thousands of Oxford men before they were born, they begin -in their obsession to institute new clubs--political, musical, literary, -debating, social, poetical--clubs of all kinds and conditions. They -cultivate gregariousness, if it is not already temperamental, as one of -the cardinal virtues. They foregather in each other's rooms nightly, -consume tremendous quantities of tobacco, cake, and coffee, and abide -feverishly by every rule of the particular society of which they are the -founders. - -In the eighteenth century the men were just as fond of foregathering; but -they laboured under severe disadvantages in connection with the -authorities, who looked upon the formation of clubs and societies as -something new and consequently revolutionary and dangerous. As an instance -of the hide-bound conservatism of the moss-grown powers that were I cannot -do better than take the case of Dibdin and the "Lunatics," a club which -was inaugurated at the very end of the eighteenth century. "Several -members of several colleges (in the number of whom I was as proud as happy -to be enlisted)," wrote Dibdin, "met frequently at each other's rooms, to -talk over and to concoct a code of laws or of regulations for the -establishment of a society to be called a 'Society for Scientific and -Literary Disquisition.' It comprehended a debate and an essay, to be -prepared by each member in succession, studiously avoiding, in both, all -topics of religious and political controversy. There was not the slightest -attempt to beat down any one barrier of university law of regulation -throughout our whole code. We were to meet in a hired room, at a private -house, and were to indulge in our favourite themes in the most -unrestrained manner, without giving ingress to a single stranger. Over and -over again was each law revised, corrected, and endeavoured to be rendered -as little objectionable as possible. At length, after the final touches, -we demanded an interview with the Vice-Chancellors and Proctors; and our -founder, William George Maton, of Queen's College, Messrs Stoddart, -Whitelock, Falconer (of Christ Church, Queen's and Corpus Colleges) were -deputed to meet the great men in office, and to report accordingly. - -"Dr Wills was then Vice-Chancellor.... He received the deputation in the -most courteous manner, and requested that the laws might be left with him, -as much for his own particular and careful examination as for that of -other heads of houses or officers whom he might choose to consult. His -request was as readily complied with, and a day was appointed when the -answer of the oracle might be obtained. In about a week, according to -agreement, the same deputation was received within the library of the -Vice-Chancellor who, after solemnly returning the volume (containing the -laws) into the hands of our worthy founder, addressed them pretty nearly -in the following words: 'Gentlemen, there does not appear to be anything -in these laws subversive of academic discipline, or contrary to the -statutes of the university--but (ah, that ill-omened But!) as it is -impossible to predict how they may operate, and as innovations of this -sort, and in these times, may have a tendency which may be as little -anticipated as it may be distressing to the framers of such laws, I am -compelled, in the exercise of my magisterial authority, as -Vice-Chancellor, to interdict your meeting in the manner proposed'"--and -then one can see him ringing for the servant to show them out, with a -polite smile on his fat face, in the usual red-tape manner. As, however, -the deputation was prepared for something of this sort they merely retired -politely, breathing murders and slaughterings against the archaism of the -institution of Vice-Chancellor. Returning to their room, they came to the -conclusion that as they did not intend to be beaten "there was, -therefore, one result to adopt--one choice left; and that was, to carry -the object, so dear to our hearts, into effect within our private -apartments in rotation. There we might discuss, debate, and hear essays -read _ad infinitum_; and, accordingly, our first meeting took place in -Queen's College, at the rooms of our founder, afterwards so long and so -well known in the medical world as Dr Maton."[16] - -After this preliminary check from the Vice-Chancellor, who, in charity be -it said, probably could not help himself, and was only doing his duty -according to his lights, the club throve like a bay tree and became -exceedingly famous. "Our society was quickly enlarged, and the present -Bishop of Llandaff, then a student of Corpus College, and the Rev. John -Horseman, afterwards a tutor in the same college, were enrolled members. -The two Moncrieffs of Baliol were also among our earlier acquisitions, and -some gentlemen commoners of Trinity College (whose name I have forgotten) -together with my oldest, and among my most valued friends, Mr Barwis of -Queen's, Mr Gibson (afterwards called Riddell) of Worcester, and George -Foster of Lincoln--all united to give strength and respectability to our -association. Our meetings were frequent and full. The essays after having -been read, were entered in a book; and I am not sure whether, at this very -day, such book be not in existence. The subjects of debate usually were, -as of old they ever had been, whether the merits or demerits of such a -character (Cæsar or Queen Elizabeth, for instance) were the greater? Or -whether the good or evil of such a measure in legislation or in politics, -the more predominent. Of our speakers, the elder Moncrieff, and George -Forster of Lincoln were doubtless the most fluent and effective; -especially the latter, who had a fervency of utterance which was at times -surprising. But the younger Moncrieff, in course of time, followed his -brother, _passibus aequis_. Taking the art of speaking and the composition -of an essay together, I think Mr (now Sir John) Stoddart of Christ Church -beat us all. He was always upon his legs, a fearless opponent, and in the -use of a pen the most unpremeditating and successful.... - -"Meanwhile the fame of our club, or society, began to be noised abroad; -and those who felt no inclination to write essays, or to impose upon -themselves the toil of reading and research for the purpose of making a -speech, were pretty free in using sneering epithets, and in stigmatising -by nicknames. There was, however, _one_ nickname which we instantly and -courageously took to ourselves and adopted--and that was the 'Lunatics.' -Mad, indeed we were, and desired so to be called--if an occasional -deviation from dull and hard drinking, frivolous gossip, and Boeotian -uproar, could justify that appellation." - -Undoubtedly the origin of present-day first year societies, which, unlike -the "Lunatics," are nearly always ephemeral affairs, may be found in the -recollections of Richard Graves, in which, referring to William Shenstone, -he says, "Our more familiar acquaintance commenced by an invitation from -Mr Shenstone to breakfast at his chambers, which we accepted; and which, -according to the sociable disposition of most young people, was protracted -to a late hour; during which, Mr Shenstone, I remember, in order to detain -us, produced Cotton's 'Virgil Travestie,' which he had lately met with; -and which, though full of indelicacies and low humour, is certainly a most -laughable performance. I displayed my slender stock of critical knewledge -by applauding, as a work of equal humour, Echard's 'Causes of the Contempt -of the Clergy.' Mr Whistler, who was a year or two older than either of -us, I believe, and had finished his school education at Eton, preferred -Pope's 'Rape of the Lock,' as a higher species of humour than anything we -had produced. In short, this morning's lounge, which seemed mutually -agreeable, was succeeded by frequent repetitions of them; and at length, -by our meeting likewise, almost every evening, at each other's chambers -the whole summer, where we read plays and poetry, _Spectators_ and -_Tatlers_, and other works of easy digestion, and sipped Florence -wine."[17] - -There were many famous clubs in the eighteenth century, each of which had -an individuality of its own. Just as the "Lunatics" was literary and -debating, the Constitution Club was political and aggressive, the Oxford -Poetical Club considered itself really poetical, and the High Borlace was -purely social and jovial. - -The Constitution Club had its headquarters at the King's Head Tavern in -the High. Its members "included five fellows, a chaplain and four -gentlemen commoners of New College, one gentleman commoner and seven -others of Oriel, three of Christ Church; Hart Hall, Worcester, All Souls, -Merton, St John's, Trinity, and Wadham contributed at least one member -each--usually a gentleman commoner."[18] The motives of its institution -were, according to Amhurst, as follows: "The society took its rise from -the iniquity of the times, and was intended to promote and cultivate -friendship between all such persons as favour'd our present happy -constitution; they thought themselves obliged openly and publickly to avow -their loyalty, and manifest their sincere affection to King George upon -all proper and becoming occasions, and to check, as much as in them lay, -the vast torrent of treason and dissaffection which overflow'd the -university. They thought it their duty to show all possible marks of -respect to those faithful officers, who were so seasonably sent to that -place, by the favour of the government, to protect the quiet part of -the king's subjects, and to suppress the tumultuary practices of the -profess'd enemies to his majesty's person and government; and for -constantly adhering to what they thought their duty in those points; and -for no other cause, that they can apprehend, they have been so unfortunate -as to become obnoxious to the university, and to feel, many of them, the -severe effects of their resentments." - -[Illustration: A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE.] - -How much truth there is in this account of the lofty aims and patriotic -ambitions of this club, and whether Amhurst was one of the St John's men -who were members, and consequently had his facts first hand, or whether it -is merely an account written round one or two of the club's actions, it is -impossible to ascertain. At any rate Amhurst seems to have dropped his -sarcasm, and to have written straightforwardly and sincerely on their -behalf. So that it is only fair to conclude that they had these objects, -more or less, in view. In proof of his statements Christopher Wordsworth -tells us that "on the king's birthday, the 28th of May aforesaid, the -whole body of the Constitution Club met together at a tavern and ordered -the windows of the house to be illuminated, and some faggots to be -prepared for a bonfire. But before the bonfire could be lighted, a very -numerous mob, which was hired for that purpose, tore to pieces the -faggots, and then assaulted the room where the club was sitting, with -brickbats and stones. All the time that the mob was thus employed, the -disaffected scholars, who had crowded the houses and streets near the -tavern, continued throwing up their caps and scattering money amongst the -rabble and shouting, 'Down with the Constitutioners; down with the Whigs; -no George; James for ever; Ormond, Bolingbroke,' etc.... The -Constitutioners thought it prudent to make the best of their way to their -colleges for the night. On the Sunday the club met again at Oriel, and -were the objects of the indignation of the mob, who thronged the streets -at six o'clock. A Brasenose man was wounded by a gunshot fired by one of -the Constitutioners, or their friends in Oriel, after which the crowd -retired to pull down the conventicles." (This account of the affair is -given as being less biassed than Amhurst's, which, in substance, is -identical, but does not tally in one or two details.) - -The fat was consequently sizzling noisily in the fire. The whole place -discussed nothing else for days. Prosecutions were hourly made in the -Vice-Chancellor's court. The grand jury of Oxfordshire made a -"presentment" in no ordered terms against the Constitutioners, who also -met with "unjust and scandalous usage" in St Mary's, Golgotha, the -Theatre, Convocation House, and the Schools, which all rang with -"invectives and anathemas against them.... Even those grave tools, the -Vice-Chancellor and Proctors, to enliven their dull harangues, and gain -the applause of the subordinate rabble, never fail'd, in their most solemn -speeches before the convocation, to fall foul and heavy on the -Constitution Club." The noise of the affair reached as far as the ears of -the King himself, and "rattling letters" were sent to the Vice-Chancellor. - -The Oxford Poetical Club was very famous in 1721. To obtain any accurate -idea of its constitution and objects it is necessary to strike the happy -mean between the accounts of it which are given by Amhurst and Erasmus -Philipps. The latter recorded in his diary that on 17th August of that -year he "went with Mr Tristram to the Poetical Club (whereof he is a -member) at the Tuns, kept by Mr Broadgate, where met Dr Evans, Fellow of -St John's, and Mr Jno. Jones, Fellow of Balliol, members of the club. -Subscribed 5s. to Dr Evans's 'Hymen and Juno' (which one merrily call'd -Evans's Bubble, it being now South Sea Time). Drank Galicia wine, and was -entertained with two Fables of the Doctor's composition, which were indeed -masterly in their kind; but the Doctor is allowed to have a peculiar -knack, and to excell all mankind at a Fable."[19] - -Amhurst, by no means a respecter of persons, devoted two papers to -ridiculing the poetry club, from which I cull the following: "Divers -eminent and most ingenious gentlemen, true lovers and judges of poetry, -having with great grief observ'd that noble art declining in Oxford (its -antient seat and fountain) resolv'd, if possible, to restore it to its -pristine vigour and glory. They justly apprehended, both from reason and -experience, that a critical lecture, once a term, though never so -judicious, was not sufficient; and that the theory of any art was -defective without the practice; and, therefore, they thought the best -method to forward this design would be to institute a weekly meeting of -the finest geniuses and _beaux esprits_ of the university, at a certain -place, to be appointed by them, where they might debate the cause of -poetry, and put its laws into regular execution. This proposal was -immediately assented to; and the next question was, where to meet? - -"This occasioned a short debate, some speaking in favour of the King's -Head, and some declaring for the Crown; but they were both opposed by -others, who presum'd that the Three Tuns would suit them much better; in -which they carry'd their point, and the Three Tuns was thereupon nominated -the place of meeting, upon these two proviso's, that Mr Broadgate would -keep good wine and a pretty wench at the bar; both which are by all -criticks allow'd to be of indispensable use in poetical operations." - -The alleged cause of this picturesque enumeration of imaginary details -was that several poems had appeared at that time in the newspapers with -the public sanction of the club. Terrae Filius immediately began to puzzle -his brain as to the membership of the club and its intentions. For a time -he admitted himself entirely baffled, but at last "chance, almighty -chance," prospered his wishes. As the result of his enquiries he -discovered the rules of the society to be:-- - -"1. That no person be admitted a member of this society, without Letters -Testimonial, to be sign'd by three persons of credit, that he has -distinguished himself in some tale, catch, sonnet, epigram, madrigal, -anagram, acrostick, tragedy, comedy, farce, or epick poem. - -"2. That no person be admitted a member of this society, who has any -visible way of living, or can spend five shillings per annum _de proprio_; -it being an established maxim, that no rich man can be a good poet. - -"3. That no member presume to discover the secrets of this society to any -body whatsoever, upon pain of expulsion. - -"4. That no member in any of his lucubrations do transgress the rules of -Aristotle, or any other sound critick, antient or modern, under pain of -having his said lucubrations burnt, in a full club, by the hands of the -small-beer drawer. - -"5. That no member do presume in any of his writings, to reflect on the -Church of England, as by law established, or either of the two famous -universities, or upon any magistrate or member of the same under pain of -having his said writings burnt as aforesaid and being himself expell'd. - -"6. That no tobacco be smoked in this society; the fumigation thereof -being supposed to cloud the poetical faculty, and to clog the subtle -wheels of the Imagination. - -"7. That no member do repeat any verses, without leave first had and -obtained from Mr President. - -"8. That no person be allowed above the space of one hour at a time to -repeat. - -"9. That no person do print any of his verses, without the approbation of -the major part of the society, under pain of expulsion. - -"10. That every member do subscribe his name to the foregoing articles." - -These rules, before finally settled upon, had been fully discussed. A -member, by name Dr Crassus, took strong objection to the smoking rule -because he was covered with a superfluity of adipose tissue, and held that -the use of tobacco "would carry off those noxious heavy particles which -turn the edge of his fancy, and obstruct his intellectual perspiration." -He was backed up by a medical friend, and the result was that a special -exception was made in his sole favour. A second gentleman said that he -could not declare with a "safe conscience" that he was unable to spend -five shillings per annum _de proprio_; but the President ably settled the -point by observing that "as God is the sole author and disposer of all -Things, we cannot in strict sense, call any thing our own; nor say that we -have any visible way of living, our daily bread being the only bounty of -His invisible hand, and therefore you may, _salvâ conscientiâ_, declare -that you have no visible way of living; and that you cannot spend five -shillings per annum _de proprio_, though according to vain human -computation, you are worth five thousand pounds a year." The final -objection raised, before the rules were at last suitably framed and hung -over the mantelpiece in the club-room, was that one of the gentlemen could -not subscribe to Rule 10. He could not write, and therefore could not -comply with the strict letter of the law. If, however, he could be allowed -to make his mark, the whole difficulty could be settled out of hand. This -was agreed to without hesitation, "it being truly no uncommon Thing in -many an excellent poet." - -Not content with thus pouring ridicule upon their foundation and -institution, Amhurst, in his subsequent paper in which he described their -first meeting absolutely surpassed himself at their expense. - - MINUTES OF THE OXFORD POETICAL CLUB. - - "The members being met, and Mr President having assum'd the chair, - three preliminary bumpers pass'd round the board; after which Dr - Crassus, in pursuance of the power granted him, as mentioned in our - last, retir'd to a snug corner of the room where a little table was - placed for him, with pipes and tobacco upon it; then the doctor - handled his Arms; and as he was glazing his pipe with a Ball of - superfine wax, which he always carried in his pocket for that use, he - alarm'd the room with a sudden peal of laughter, which drew the eyes - of the assembly towards him, and made all of them very solicitous to - know the conceit which occasioned it; but the doctor was not, for - several minutes, able to do it, the fit continuing upon him, and - growing louder and louder; at last, when it began to intermit, he made - a shift to reveal the cause of his mirth thus:-- - - "'Why, gentlemen,' said he,--'ha! ha! ha!--why, gentlemen, I say the - prettiest Epigram! ha! ha! ha! I cannot tell you for my life--I have - made, I say, upon this ball of wax here, ha! ha! ha!--that you ever - heard in your lives. Shall I repeat it, Mr President?' - - "'By all means, doctor,' said he; 'no body more proper to open the - assembly than Doctor Crassus!' - - "Then the doctor compos'd his countenance, and standing up, with the - ball of wax in his right hand, pronounc'd the following distich with - an heroick emphasis. - - "'This wax, d'ye see, with which my pipe I glaze, - Is the best wax I ever us'd in all my days.' - - "'Ha! ha! ha! How d'ye like it, gentlemen ha! ha! ha! Is it not very - pretty gentlemen?' - - "'Very pretty, without flattery, doctor,' said they all; 'very - excellent, indeed.' - - "Upon which the doctor smiled pleasantly, and lighted his pipe.... - During the first part of the night their thoughts were something - gloomy and run upon elegies and epitaphs upon living as well as dead - men; but you will find them brighten up as the night advance and the - bottles increase. They begin with satire and funeral lamentation; but - end with love, smuttiness and a song"--and there I will leave them. - -The High Borlace was a Tory club which, says Christopher Wordsworth, "had -a convivial meeting held annually at the King's Head Tavern in Oxford, on -the 18th of August (or, if that fell on a Sunday, on the 19th, as in -1734), on which occasion Dr Leigh, Master of Balliol, was of the High -Borlace and the first clergyman who had attended. It seems to have been -patronised by the county families, and it is not improbable that there was -a ball connected with it. The members chose a Lady Patroness: in 1732 Miss -Stonhouse; 1733, Miss Molly Wickham of Garsington; 1734 Miss Anne Cope, -daughter of Sir Jonathan Cope of Bruern." - -In the _Gentleman's Magazine_ in the year 1765 there was the following -reference: "Monday Aug. 19, was held at the Angel inn, at Oxford, the High -Borlase, when Lady Harriott Somerset was chosen Lady Patroness for the -year ensuing." - -Of other smaller clubs there were the Freecynics in 1737, which Dr -Rawlinson describes as "a kind of Philosophical Club who have a set of -symbolical words and grimaces, unintelligible to any but those of their -own society," and the Nonsense Club, founded by George Coleman, Bonnel -Thornton and Lloyd about 1750. The latter would seem from its name to be a -revival of the earlier Banterers existing almost a century before, who are -described by Wood as "a set of scholars so-called, some M.A., who make it -their employment to talk at a venture, lye, and prate what nonsense they -please, if they see a man talk seriously they talk floridly nonsense, and -care not what he says; this is like throwing a cushion at a man's head -that pretends to be grave and wise." Although Coleman assisted to found -the Nonsense Club he makes no reference to it in his reminiscences, so it -is more than probable that it was merely the whim of a term or so. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen--The - "Vindication"--Opposing and responding--"Schemes"--Doing - austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents--Magdalen collections. - - -Nowadays work is a factor in university life which has to be seriously -reckoned with. However strong one's intentions to do none, however -convinced one may be of the complete absurdity and futility of cramming -dull stuff for no apparent good reasons, when there is such a glorious -time to be had doing nothing in the mornings and "sweating" at athletics -in the afternoons, yet the Dons have of late acquired a foolish habit of -sending a man down unless he succeeds in scraping through certain -examinations. - -They feel it to be essential, through some misguided feeling of duty, to -harry the athlete and outdoor man, and at certain periods, even, to hound -him in white tie, and as much gown as he can lay hands on, to the schools, -and if, on his final exit from their clutches, they are not satisfied with -the results of his cramming, they invert their thumbs and down he goes! It -matters not whether he be merely a humble eightsman or the all-important -President of the Boat Club. The examiners are no respecters of persons, -and fear no man nor beast. The athlete retires willy nilly. - -How different were the Dons' views in Georgian times! Amhurst, serious for -once, declared that the keynote of the century was tolerated ignorance. He -made the statement boldly in the face of the high reputation of the Dons -for learning and classical knowledge, in defiance of the wrath of the -entire university. He was justified in making such an assertion, and I -have tried to prove the truth of his words in the course of this chapter. - -"A gentleman commoner," he said, "if he be a man of fortune, is soon told -that it is not expected from one of his form to mind exercises; if he is -studious, he is morose, and a heavy bookish fellow; if he keeps a cellar -of wine, the good natur'd fellows will indulge him, tho' he should be too -heavy-headed to be at chapel in the morning." - -In proof of this assertion I will take the case, from a sheaf of others, -of Mr Harris, afterwards Lord Malmesbury, who was an Undergraduate of -Merton in 1763. "The discipline of the university happened also at this -particular moment to be so lax," he wrote, "that a gentleman -commoner"--and it would seem not to be of great moment whether he had -riches or not--"was under no restraint, and never called upon to attend -either lectures, or chapel, or hall. My tutor, an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practise of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to be taught trigonometry. The set of men with whom -I lived were very pleasant but very idle fellows. Our life was an -imitation of high life in London." The entire lack of compulsion to work, -however, did not by any means cause Harris and his friends to dwindle into -mere "wasters." From that little coterie eventually emerged Charles Fox -and William Eden. - -Gibbon, the historian of world-wide renown, never did one stroke of work -while at Magdalen, nor was he ever asked, with any firmness, to do so. In -his much discussed reminiscences he set down that "some duties may -possibly have been imposed on the poor scholars, whose ambition aspired to -the peaceful honours of a scholarship; but no independent members were -admitted below the rank of gentleman commoner, and our velvet cap was the -cap of liberty." Commenting upon the prevailing slackness of tutors, -Gibbon quoted his own experiences. The learned doctor to whose care he was -first confided, described as "one of the best of the tribe," had suggested -that Gibbon should read the comedies of Terence every morning with him. -"During the first weeks," wrote Gibbon, "I constantly attended these -lessons in my tutor's rooms; but as they appeared equally devoid of profit -and pleasure, I was once tempted to try the experiment of a formal -apology. The apology was accepted with a smile. I repeated the offence -with less ceremony; the excuse was admitted with the same indulgence; the -slightest motive of laziness or indisposition, the most trifling avocation -at home or abroad, was allowed as a worthy impediment; nor did my tutor -appear conscious of my absence or neglect.... No plan of study was -recommended for my use; no exercises were prescribed for his inspection; -and at that most precious season of youth, whole days and weeks were -suffered to elapse, without labour or amusement, without advice or -account."[20] - -Such was the sum total of Gibbon's relations with that worthy and -excellent man, for, the following term, he found on his arrival, that he -had departed from the college and that another tutor was installed in his -place. Of his connection with this second tutor the Magdalen man wrote as -follows: "Instead of guiding the studies, and watching over the behaviour -of his disciple, I was never summoned to attend even the ceremony of a -lecture; and, excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms, during the eight -months of his titular office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same -college as strangers to each other." These accusations against the -Magdalen discipline have been most heatedly "vindicated" by the Rev. -James Hurdis, who declared it to have been more Gibbon's fault than the -Dons' that he was not looked after, because he gave flippant excuses which -he dubbed formal apologies, and had not the patience to continue the -course of lectures arranged and delivered by his tutors. - -These vindicatory arguments do not hold water. All men will evade -authority if they can. Therefore it is surely the place of the tutor to -put his foot down and issue orders instead of letting his pupil wander at -will and do no work. - -In all the many descriptions of a day in the life of a Smart, or an -ordinary gentleman commoner, or the river man, no references are to be -found as to their doing any work. On the contrary, Skinner said that -"Aristotle has been deserted for the bottle," and launched into -descriptions of the empty schools. With tutors who considered politics and -consequent individual preferment of far greater importance than the mere -conning of pupils' work, it is not to be wondered at that the only men who -did any work were those who were "bookish" by nature and preferred a quiet -studious life to one of revelry and slacking. For the most part these -worked independently of Dons, entirely of their own volition. As far as a -good degree went, it was utterly useless; for the method of passing -university examinations was, to put it mildly, a farce. The veracity of -Vicesimus Knox is not for one moment to be questioned, so that the -following account may be taken as a fair example of the customs of the -times. - -"The youth, whose heart pants for the honour of a Bachelor of Arts degree, -must wait patiently till near four years have revolved. But this time is -not to be spent idly. No; he is obliged, during this period, once to -oppose, and once to respond, in disputations held in the public schools--a -formidable sound and a dreadful idea; but, on closer attention, the fear -will vanish, and contempt supply its place. This opposing and responding -is termed, in the cant of the place, _doing generals_. Two boys, or men, -as they call themselves, agree to do generals together. The first step in -this mighty work is to procure arguments. These are always handed down, -from generation to generation, on long slips of paper, and consist of -foolish syllogisms on foolish subjects; of the formation or the -signification of which the respondent and opponent seldom know more than -an infant in swaddling clothes. The next step is to go for a _liceat_ to -one of the petty officers, called the Regent Master of the Schools, who -subscribes his name to the questions and receives sixpence as his fee. -When the important day arrives, the two doughty disputants go into a large -dusty room, full of dirt and cobwebs, with walls and wainscot decorated -with the names of former disputants, who to divert the tedious hours cut -out their names with their penknives, or wrote verses with a pencil. Here -they sit in mean desks, opposite to each other, from one o'clock till -three. Not once in a hundred times does any officer enter; and, if he -does, he hears one syllogism or two, and then makes a bow, and departs, as -he came and remained, in solemn silence. The disputants then return to the -amusement of cutting the desks, carving their names, or reading Sterne's -'Sentimental Journey,' or some other edifying novel. When this exercise is -duly performed by both parties, they have a right to the title and -insignia of Sophs; but not before they have been formally created by one -of the regent-masters.... This work done, a great progress is made towards -the wished-for honour of a Bachelor's degree. There remain only one or two -trifling forms, and another disputation, almost exactly similar to doing -generals, but called _answering under bachelor_, previous to the awful -examination. Every candidate is obliged to be examined in the whole -circle of the sciences by three Masters of Arts _of his own choice_. The -examination is to be held in one of the public schools, and to continue -from nine o'clock till eleven. The masters take a most solemn oath, that -they will examine properly and impartially. Dreadful as all this appears, -there is always found to be more of appearance in it than reality, for the -greatest dunce usually gets his _testimonium_ signed with as much ease and -credit as the finest genius. The manner of proceeding is as follows: The -poor young man to be examined in the sciences often knows no more of them -than his bedmaker, and the masters who examine are sometimes equally -unacquainted with such mysteries. But _schemes_, as they are called, or -little books, containing forty or fifty questions on each science, are -handed down, from age to age, from one to another. The candidate to be -examined employs three or four days in learning these by heart, and the -examiners, having done the same before him when they were examined, know -what questions to ask, and so all goes on smoothly. When the candidate has -displayed his universal knowledge of the sciences, he is to display his -skill in philology. One of the masters, therefore, desires him to construe -a passage in some Greek or Latin classic, which he does with no -interruption, just as he pleases, and as well as he can. The statutes next -require that he should translate familiar English phrases into Latin. And -now is the time when the masters show their wit and jocularity. Droll -questions are put on any subject, and the puzzled candidate furnishes -diversion by his awkward embarrassment. I have known the questions on this -occasion to consist of an enquiry into the pedigree of a race-horse.... -This familiarity, however, only takes place when the examiners are pot -companions of the candidate, which indeed is usually the case; for it is -reckoned good management to get acquainted with two or three jolly young -Masters of Arts and supply them well with port, previously to the -examination. If the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors happen to enter the -school, a very uncommon event, then a little solemnity is put on, very -much to the confusion of the masters, as well as of the boy, who is -sitting in the little box opposite them. As neither the officer, nor any -one else usually enters the room (for it is reckoned very _ungenteel_) the -examiners and the candidates often converse on the last drinking bout, or -on horses, or read the newspaper, or a novel, or divert themselves as well -as they can in any manner till the clock strikes eleven, when all parties -descend, and the _testimonium_, is signed by the masters. With this -_testimonium_ in his possession the candidate is sure of success. The day -in which the honour is to be conferred arrives; he appears in the -Convocation House, he takes an abundance of oaths, pays a sum of money in -fees, and, after kneeling down before the Vice-Chancellor, and whispering -a lie, rises up a Bachelor of Arts."[21] - -In order, therefore, to obtain the coveted privilege of going in for all -these learned and difficult examinations, an Undergraduate had to calm his -impatience and enjoy himself as best he could for four years. Then, having -succeeded in getting himself fairly comfortably in debt, having learned -how to string off a sonnet to the reigning toast and drink himself under -the table, he was esteemed ripe for the whispering of a lie, and was -conveniently fitted out with a degree. What more simple? - -"And now, if he aspires at higher honours (and what emulous spirit can sit -down without aspiring at them?) new labours and new difficulties are to be -encountered during the space of three years. He must _determine_ in Lent, -he must _do quodlibets_, he must _do austens_, he must declaim twice, he -must read six solemn lectures, and he must be again examined in the -sciences, before he can be promoted to the degree of Master of Arts. None -but the initiated can know what _determining_, doing _quodlibets_, and -doing _austens_ mean. I have not room to enter into a minute description -of such contemptible minutiæ. Let it be sufficient to say, that these -exercises consist of disputations of syllogisms, procured and uttered -nearly in the same places, time, and manner, as we have already seen them -in doing generals. There is, however, a great deal of trouble in little -formalities, such as procuring sixpenny _liceats_, sticking up the names -on the walls, sitting in large empty rooms by yourself, or with some poor -wight as ill-employed as yourself, without anything to say or do, wearing -hoods and a little piece of lambskin wool on it, and a variety of other -particulars too tedious and too trifling to enumerate." - -The eighteenth-century lad became an Undergraduate on condition of -subscribing to a lie, and was sent down as a not undistinguished man after -seven years by pronouncing another in the ear of the Vice-Chancellor. - -"As university degrees are supposed to be badges of learning and merit, -there ought to be some qualifications requisite to wear them, besides -perjury, and treason, and paying a multitude of fees, which seem to be the -three principal things insisted upon in our universities," said Terrae -Filius--and the persistent joker spoke never a truer word. While -discussing the same question with some bitterness he asserted that a -schoolboy has done more learned things for his breaking-up task than were -required of an Oxford man after seven years' residence. He more than bore -out Knox's words as to the custom of making one's examiner drunk and so -avoiding the irksome necessity of being asked awkward questions by him. -"It is also well known," he wrote, "to be the custom for the candidates -either to present their examiners with a piece of gold, or to give them an -handsome entertainment, and make them drunk; which they commonly do the -night before examination, and sometimes keep them till morning, and so -adjourn, cheek by joul, from their drinking-room to the school where they -are to be examined. _Quaere_, whether it would not be very ungrateful of -the examiner to refuse any candidate a _testimonium_ who has treated him -so splendidly over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail'd -upon by bribes?" - -So that in addition to making him drunk and incapable, but not -disorderly--necessarily--the astute candidate, realising that the degree's -the thing, paid him a metaphorical thirty pieces of silver for his -betrayal. Moreover, the collectors, that is to say the Dons who were in -control of the determining, decided the days upon which the candidates -were to present themselves. On certain days called "gracious" days, the -examiners were only required to stay in the schools for half the usual -time. The consequence was, explained Terrae, "The collectors having it in -their power to dispose of all the schools and days in what manner they -please, are very considerable persons, and great application is made to -them for gracious days and good schools; but especially to avoid being -posted or dogg'd, which commonly happens to be their lot who have no money -in their pockets." - -The statues of course forbade collectors to receive presents, but a wink -is as good as a nod, and it was customary for every determiner upon -presenting himself to give the collector a "broad or half a broad." In -return for this douceur "Mr Collector," said Amhurst, "entertains his -benefactors with a good supper and as much wine as they can drink, besides -gracious days and commodious schools. I have heard that some collectors -have made four score or an hundred guineas of this place." - -The conclusion which is inevitably arrived at is that the examinations -for, and in fact the whole question of obtaining a degree, were a farce -and a sham, and that the authorities cared little who got one so long as -they received their fees and were left in peace to smoke and tope in the -common rooms. - -The attendance at college exercises seems to have been equally dilatory. -Gibbon said that the Magdalen College exercises were futile and a waste of -time. He was tacitly allowed to stay away from them. The vindicator of -Magdalen, thinking to nail Gibbon down, went to the trouble of enumerating -term by term the exercises which the Undergraduates were supposed to -perform. As interesting reading it is worthy of quotation, but as a _coup -de grace_ to Gibbon it is absurd. If all Magdalen men were bound to -attend, why was Gibbon allowed to absent himself, or, if not allowed, why -was he not hauled over the coals?--and it is ridiculous to suppose that -Gibbon's example was not followed by scores of fellow collegians. The -present-day "colleckers," held terminally, are, more or less, in the -nature of a joke, but in those days, in spite of Hurdis's burning loyalty -to Magdalen, the following exercises which correspond to them are -fearsome-sounding enough, but were more often than not unattended. "At the -end of every term, from his admission till he takes his first degree, -every individual Undergraduate of this college must appear at a _public -examination_ before the President, Vice-President, Deans, and whatever -Fellows may please to attend; and cannot obtain leave to return to his -friends in any vacation, till he has properly acquitted himself according -to the following scheme. - -"In his _first_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first term, in _Sallust_ and the _Characters of Theophrastus_. - - "In the second Term, in the first six books of Virgil's _Aeneis_ and - the first three books of Xenophon's _Anabasis_. - - "In the third Term, in the last six books of the _Aeneis_ and the last - four books of the _Anabasis_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the Gospels of St Matthew and St Mark, on - which sacred books the persons examined are always called upon to - produce a collection of observations from the best commentators. - -[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN.] - -"During his _second_ year, the Undergraduate must make himself a -proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in Cæsar's _Commentaries_, and the first six books - of Homer's _Iliad_. - - "In the second Term, in _Cicero de Oratore_, and the second six books - of the _Iliad_. - - "In the third Term, in _Cicero de Officiis_ and the _Dion Hal. de - structura Orationis_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the gospels of St Luke and St John, producing - a collection of observations from commentators as at the end of the - first year. - -"During his _third_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in the first six books of Livy and Xenophon's - _Cyropaedia_. - - "In the second Term, in Xenophon's _Memorabilia_, and in Horace's - Epistles and Art of Poetry. - - "In the third Term, in _Cicero de natura Deorum_, and in the first, - third, eighth, tenth, thirteenth and fourteenth of Juvenal's - _Satires_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the first four epistles of St Paul, producing - collections as before. - -"During his _fourth_ and last year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in the first six books of the 'Annals of Tacitus,' - and in the _Electra_ of Sophocles. - - "In the second Term, in Cicero's 'Orations' against Catilina, and in - those of Ligarius and Archias; and also in those Orations of - Demosthenes which are contained in Mounteney's edition. - - "In the third Term, in the 'Dialogues' of Plato published by Dr - Forster, and in the _Georgics_ of Virgil. - - "In the fourth Term, in the remaining ten Epistles of St Paul and the - Epistles general, producing collections as before." - -The above is undoubtedly a little programme guaranteed to keep the average -Undergraduate fairly busy in the use of midnight oil. But--how odd it is -that there is ever a "but"--the excited vindicator rather spoilt matters -and lessened the terrors of the programme by stating in his preliminary -paragraph that only those Dons were present "who may please to attend!" -Having digested already some few facts concerning the habits and hobbies -of the eighteenth-century Don, as well as the liberty accorded to -gentlemen commoners, there is no need to waste sympathy on "every -individual Undergraduate" of Magdalen. He merely lowered the right eyelid, -tapped the left nostril with the left index digit and "obtained leave to -return to his friends in any Vacation," with the greatest ease and speed -and the most cordial of farewells to the President, Vice-President, Deans, -and any of the Fellows who cared to attend. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -'VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson's _Oxford Journal_--Domestic - intelligence--Election poems--Curious advertisements--Superabundance - of St John's editors--Terrae Filius. - - -There is some indefinable element in the atmosphere of Oxford which has -always excited an itch for writing. The sister university can, of course, -point to many sons whose names stand high in the literary firmament, but -they do not amount to a tithe of the number of great writers who have -passed through Oxford. Oxford may be the home of lost causes, but she is -also the cradle for infant pens. Generations of pens splutter their first -incoherencies behind the comparative shelter of the city walls through -which the harsh criticism of maturer writers cannot penetrate. In stilted -phraseology and doubtful grammar they cover numberless sheets with -emotional outpourings. There may be future literary geniuses hidden among -them, but from those early imitative strivings it is difficult to single -out even one. They are novices who humbly apprentice themselves to the -profession of letters. From time to time some quite brilliant piece of -work throws up more vividly the amateurishness of the rest. Such meteoric -flashes are, however, rare, and thus the general standard does not rise -above mediocrity. It is because all Undergraduate pens are very young and -inexperienced that the present-day 'varsity papers can make no claim to -literary distinction. To their credit be it said that they do not. They -are content to remain just 'varsity papers--which is synonymous with -saying that they are either tediously over-academic or peculiarly inane; -that their light articles are excellent imitations of the halfpenny comic -papers, that their serious efforts are most praiseworthy for their -capacity for inflicting boredom, and that their editorials border upon the -inept. - -It is not an unknown thing for a present-day Undergraduate paper, which is -supposedly conducted _by_ Undergraduates _for_ Undergraduates to be owned -and financed by a local tradesman. He, being thus in supreme command, -maintains a private blue pencil, and, obsessed by the idea that because he -sells pens and inks he is therefore a man of parts and literary -consideration, rules the poor devil of an Undergraduate editor with a rod -of iron. What is the result? It is that the average 'varsity paper is -composed of childish leaders edited by the financier; a series of vastly -foolish and unentertaining remarks which may or may not have been heard in -the Broad; pages of notes which are half-frightened comments on the week's -doings written invariably by critics who have not sufficient pluck to say -that they consider the person or thing under criticism to be either -thoroughly bad or supremely excellent; a mawkish account of the speeches -delivered in the Union Society's Debates, written with the condescending -patronage of the old stager, by some self-satisfied ex-official, himself a -thoroughly bad speaker and so totally unqualified to criticise; a -collection of dramatic criticisms of the bi-weekly pieces at the New -Theatre, scribbled by some musical comedy enthusiast who, in addition to a -total ignorance of the drama, has been warned by the financier of the -paper to say nice things however bad the play or the acting in order to -secure free seats from the theatre; and, lastly, a fulsome and -objectionably personal article which purports to be a biography of a -well-known Oxford man. - -Perhaps under these Gilbertian conditions it is no wonder that the -literary efforts of Georgian times put those of the present to shame. In -the eighteenth century university journals were at least independent. They -looked for no pecuniary assistance from local ironmongers or haberdashers. -The consequence is that although the contributors were beginners whose -efforts were the result of the itch for writing brought on by that -indefinable element which was in the atmosphere of Oxford then as now, -their work was unhampered by any outside considerations. The literary -standard was not of the highest order. How could it be when the writers -were lads varying from eighteen to twenty years of age? It was, however, -higher than that of to-day. On turning over the various 'varsity papers of -two centuries ago, an uncomfortable sensation of that most unusual -emotion--humility--inevitably results, because there is undoubtedly found -in them much that is witty, fearless, original, vivid, and entertaining. - -In those days the editor drew up a scheme for running his paper, and -adhered to it in defiance of Don and man. Now, however, in his frantic -efforts to keep life in his moribund sheet, the editor does not see that -his copy is good and worth printing, copy guaranteed to sell largely. That -is not the idea. The only way to secure financial soundness is, he finds, -to pander to the advertisers by the shifty method of writing puffs for -cigarettes, soaps, wines, and so on, in a column which bears a disguised -and misleading heading, and which is an insult to the intelligence of his -youngest reader. - -In analysing the university journals of the eighteenth century I will -begin with the year 1753, when the inhabitants of Oxford and the -surrounding counties were enlivened by Jackson's _Oxford Journal_. As to -its make-up the editor announced that, "This paper will be more complete -than any that has hitherto appeared in this Part of the Kingdom. For -besides the Articles of News, Foreign and Domestic, in which we shall -endeavour to surpass every other Paper, our Situation will enable us to -oblige our readers with a particular account of every Transaction relating -to the present Opposition in Oxfordshire, as also with a Variety of -curious Pieces in Prose and Verse, on both sides of the Question; which no -other Paper can procure." Having made this declaration of his _modus -operandi_ Jackson adhered to it rigidly and fully. His columns of foreign -news were stocked with items of note and interest. Foreign politics, wars, -rumours of wars, agricultural depressions or rises were all included, and -came from the uttermost parts of the earth. The domestic intelligence -covered the movements of the King and royal family, meetings of celebrated -London societies, and chatty descriptions of assaults and batteries. In -one issue there was a sporting account of how "a young man ran from Queen -Street, Cheapside, to Hornsey Wood, and back again, in one Hour and four -minutes." The next paragraph related that "the same Morning was found -drowned in the River, William Andrew, a Master Taylor in Spital Fields. -His watch and Money, with two Rings on his Finger, were found upon him." -This little tragedy was immediately followed by an incident of comedy -which occurred in the London streets. - -"Between Five and Six o'clock on Sunday Evening an uncommon Scheme was put -in Execution by a Gang of Pickpockets in St James's Park. A Person very -well dressed fixing himself with great Attention, as tho' he saw something -particular in the Air, occasioned a Number of People to enquire the Reason -and join in the Speculation, when he asserted he saw a very bright Star; -and while he was busy in pointing out the Constellation to the Spectators -several of them lost their handkerchiefs, but the Star gazer got off." - -Jackson's news columns were every bit as full in comparison as the London -papers to-day. With politics, too, he dealt very fully. In a short and -pithy editorial, however, he assured his readers that his own political -views did not count--he was merely running the paper. This, odd as it may -seem, was sound diplomatic policy, because in those days, with -ever-changing party feeling, it was a mere matter of five minutes to issue -an injunction, stop the press, and confiscate the whole plant. Devoted as -he was to political interest Jackson printed many of the promised "curious -Pieces of Prose and Verse." - - "RECEIPT TO MAKE A VOTE. - - "_By the cook of Sir J. D----d._ - - "Take a Cottager of Thirty shillings a Year, tax Him at Forty; Swear - at Him; Bully Him; take your business from Him; Give Him your business - again; make Him drunk; Shake Him by the Hand; Kiss his Wife, and he is - an Honest Fellow. - - "_N.B._--The above Cook will make Affidavit before any Justice of the - Peace, that this Receipt has been try'd on the Body of Billy S---- and - several others in the Neighbourhood of K--rtle--n, and never failed of - Success." - -The other political contribution took the form of an election song, the -sort of thing that the Undergraduates of those times would seize upon and -parade the streets of the university, chanting right lustily in gangs. - - "ADVICE TO FREEHOLDERS. - - "Ye honest Freeholders, bestir all your stumps; - For all now depends upon who turns up Trumps. - Be sure that you chuse - Neither Placemen nor Jews. - Nor such as are likely their trust to abuse. - To the devil you're sold if the Conj'rer prevails; - If Israel's Black Seed, beware of your Tails. - - _Chorus._ - - "Alas! that poor Britons should lose for their Sins - Their Liberties, Properties and their Fore-Skins." - -In addition to such contributions in prose and verse, the columns of the -Journal were open to any keen correspondent who cared to air either his -views or his grievances--an opportunity of which the fullest advantage was -taken. In every issue urgent appeals and exhortations to voters and -freeholders appeared over various names. The advertisement columns, such -as they were, contained frequent announcements of the publication of -political pamphlets addressed to the "Gentlemen, Clergy, and Freeholders -of the country of Oxford." These columns contained also the most curious -hotch-potch of unexpected posts and requests, such as: - - "TO BE DRUNK FOR BY CANDLE, - - "AT WILL'S COFFEE-HOUSE, IN OXFORD, ON WEDNESDAY NEXT, - - "A LIVING, - - "Worth near _Thirty Pounds_ per Annum, besides Surplice fees and other - emoluments. None but True Blue Parsons to drink for it. Three - Gentlemen with White Wigs and Red Faces are already entered. - - "_N.B._--Very soon will be ate for at the same place, a tollerable - _Curacy_, by those who never get a Dinner but of a Sunday. Codd and - Oyster Sauce will be the Subject for this trial. Mr B--lst--ne is - excepted against in both Cases as he will spoil Sport." - -Another frequently-appearing notice was an advertisement of a booklet of -advice to new-married persons, or the art of having beautiful children. -This was surrounded by bills of races, cock fights, arrivals of new -dancing masters, who addressed themselves to the nobility and gentry in -and about Oxford, quack medicines and ointments which were a never-failing -remedy for the itch, announced "by the King's authority. _N.B._--One box -is sufficient to cure a grown person, and divided, is a cure for two -children." - -For the rest it was the receptacle for articles of every nature from all -and sundry. Warton left his antiquarian researches to afford himself a -little relaxation by writing for it a version of Gray's _Elegy_ up to -date, or an appreciation of Ben Tyrell's mutton pies. From the various -coffee-houses Jackson received the wonderful effusions of the Bucks of the -first head, sonnets to Sylvia's eyelashes, poems in praise of Oxford ale, -and even an occasional Latin verse. "Old Lochard, the newsman," says J. R. -Green in his delightful Oxford chapters, "who, bell in hand, hawked the -Journal through the streets, owed to his college patrons not only the -antiquated cane and rusty grizzle wig, which they had thrown by after ten -years' service of the tankard at buttery hatch, in return for quick -despatches; but the merry rhymes that every Christmas drew a douceur from -the tradesman, a slice of sirloin and a cup of October from the squire, or -a dram from Mother Baggs."[22] - -In the Journal's own war paean:-- - - "Each vast event our varied page supplies, - The fall of princes or the rise of pies; - Patriots and squires learn here with little cost - Or when a kingdom or a match is lost; - Both sexes here approved receipts peruse, - Hence belles may clean their teeth or beaux their shoes, - From us informed Britannia's farmers tell - How Louisburgh by British thunders fell; - 'Tis we that sound to all the Trump of Fame, - And babes lisp Amherst's and Boscawen's name. - All the four quarters of the globe conspire - Our news to fill, and raise your glory higher." - -Throughout almost the entire eighteenth century the editorial chairs of -the different periodicals seem to have been filled for the most part by St -John's men. Terrae Filius appeared first in 1721 under the guidance of -Nicholas Amhurst of St John's. In 1789 _The Loiterers_, a literary weekly, -was launched before the public by James Austen of St John's. His brother, -H. T. Austen of the same college, materially assisted him by contributing -a number of delightful imaginative articles. This paper was filially -dedicated by the editor to the President and Fellows of his college, and -ran successfully for two years. The present-day members have done their -best to maintain the literary traditions of this college, for that nine -days' wonder, the _Tuesday Review_, was edited and run by two rash men of -St John's. - -Amhurst took it upon himself to fill the post of cat-o'-nine-tails to the -University, and in his "secret history" lashed at everybody and thing that -was not to his liking, or that seemed to him to constitute in any way an -abuse. He discovered for himself, in all their abundance, the manifold -troubles of an editor, but was not to be coerced or cajoled into anything -that he did not consider fit and proper. - -"In a work of this nature," he wrote in the preface to the second edition -of Terrae Filius, "it is very hard to please any, and impossible to please -all. The different tempers and tastes of men cannot relish the same style -or manner of writing any more than the same dish or the same diversion: -fops love romances; pedants love jargon; the splenatic man delights in -satire; and the gay courtier in panegyric; some are pleased with poetry; -others with prose; some are for plain truths, and some for disguise and -dissimulation. I was aware of this when I began, and, in my second paper, -reserved to myself a liberty to be in what humour I pleased, and to vary -my manner as well as my subject, hoping thereby to please most sorts of -readers; but I quickly found myself disappointed in my expectations, -having often received, by the same post, complaints from some of my -correspondents, that I was too grave for the character of Terrae Filius; -and from others, that I affected levity too much for one who styled -himself a reformer. In answer to both of the objections I shall beg my -readers to consider that as, on one hand, it ought not to be expected that -a man should keep his face upon the broad grin for half a year together; -so, on the other, I cannot apprehend that it is at all necessary for a -reformer to be a puritan, always in the dumps, and always holding forth -with a dismal face and a canting tone:-- - - "'... ridiculum acri - Fortis et melius magnas plerumque secat res.' - -"... I can see nothing in it to repent of, but the want of sufficient -abilities to treat a subject of such general importance in the manner -which it deserves. But I hope the reader will excuse some imperfections, -when he considers the nature of my stunted education, that I was allow'd -to continue but three years at Oxford, and was not twenty-four years of -age when I compleated this undertaking." - -In self-explanation Terrae Filius started off his campaign with sundry -paragraphs calculated to make the authorities uneasy as to their own -future safety, and to cause Undergraduates to champion him against them at -all hazards. - -"It has, till of late," he explained, "been a custom, from time -immemorial, for one of our family to mount the rostrum at Oxford at -certain seasons, and divert an innumerable crowd of spectators, who -flock'd thither to hear him from all parts, with a merry oration in the -fescenine manner, interspersed with secret history, raillery, and sarcasm, -as the occasions at the times supply'd him with matter. If a venerable -head of a college was caught snug a bed with his neighbour's wife; or -shaking his elbows on a Sunday morning; or flattering a prime minister for -a bishopric; or coaxing his bedmaker's girl out of her maidenhead; the -hoary old sinner might expect to hear of it from our lay-pulpit the next -Act. Or if a celebrated toast and a young student were seen together at -midnight under a shady myrtle tree, billing like two turtle doves, to him -it belonged, being a poet as well as an orator, to tell the tender story -in a melancholy ditty, adapted to pastoral music." - -Claiming to follow the precedents established by his old-time -predecessors, Terrae Filius set about showing up the scandalous old Heads, -disguised in thinly-veiled names. As a consequence he was many times -prohibited by Vice-Chancellors and preached down, and cordially loathed -and execrated by all the college Heads and Fellows of his time, whom he -attacked either directly or indirectly. - -"Why should a poor Undergraduate," he asked, "be called an idle rascal, -and a good-for-nothing blockhead, for being perhaps but twice at chapel in -one day; or for coming into college at ten or eleven o'clock at night; or -for a thousand other greater trifles than these; whilst the grey-headed -doctors may indulge themselves in what debaucheries and corruptions they -please, with impunity, and without censure? Methinks it could not do any -great hurt to the universities if the old fellows were to be jobed at -least once in four or five years for their irregularities, as the young -ones are everyday, if they offend." - -Abuses of such a nature are long dead, and a Terrae Filius to-day would -rapidly die of starvation by reason of the lack of matter. Then, however, -he not only lived, but waxed fat on the news he ferreted out--rather in -the manner of a leech applied to a festering sore. Advertisements to him -meant nothing. They were unsought, and would have been refused if -offered. He was _pro bono publico_, ever ready with advice, satire, -criticism, explanation, and always humour. His pen was untiring in writing -a subject up or down, according to its merits or demerits. Political, -religious, academic, and social abuses were thrown on to the screen -fearlessly. His paternal advice to freshmen, although written in a vein of -biting irony, was, nevertheless exactly suited to the times, and, if -followed unswervingly, must assuredly have been of vast assistance in -coping with the wily, time-serving sculls and beer-swilling tutors. His -advice as to their morale was penned with his tongue in his cheek; but in -substance it was none the less straight and praiseworthy. His political -views were consistent and very strenuous, and the opposition received a -royal scourging from his stinging and lengthy lashes. His contempt for -Smarts was only exceeded by his scorn for drink-soddened, incapable -Fellows, and the scandalous manner in which they neglected the statutes -and allowed everything to run to seed. His boldness in choice of subjects -was unparalleled, the outspoken manner of setting them forth absolutely -inimitable. The results achieved by his work must have been considerable, -though to a large extent unperceived publicly, because a new leaf turned -frankly and openly would have been an avowal of guilt on the part of the -persons concerned. The proof that he was largely read lies in the fact -that he was preached about in no measured terms in public pulpits, -prohibited by various authorities, roasted by aggrieved parties in -coffee-and ale-houses, and, in fact, was a household word on every one's -tongue. - -A lengthy disquisition upon the way in which the truth was mangled, -disguised, covered up, and turned about by priests, statesmen, and every -"old libertine in authority" was followed by the ensuing declaration:-- - -"I, Terrae Filius, a free-thinker, and a free-speaker, highly incensed -against all knavery and imposture, and not thinking _Truth_ such a -terrible enemy to religion and good order, as it has been represented, do -hereby declare war against all cheats and deluders, however dignified, or -wheresoever residing; the fear of obloquy and ill-usage shall not deter me -from this undertaking, nor shall any considerations rob me of the liberty -of my own thoughts and my own tongue. In the pursuit of this design, I -shall not confine myself to any particular method; but shall be grave and -whimsical, serious or ludicrous, prosaical or poetical, philosophical or -satirical, argue or tell stories, weep over my subject, or laugh over it, -be in humour or out of humour, according to whatever passion is uppermost -in my breast whilst I am writing." - -In token of this promise there stands the truth on every page, however -bedded in satire, philosophy, poetry, or ridicule. He saw to it that his -daily path was studded with nails, and in his passage he hit them each one -on the head. As a result the pages of Terrae Filius are from cover to -cover a source of immense joy. For an example of bold and delightful -satire I cannot find a better instance than the _ne plus ultra_ in skits -on the Poetical Club. Of course he gave the president and learned -professors who composed it fictitious names, but it is palpable that those -caricatured recognised themselves, and, if they had the least grain of -humour in their compositions, they must have enjoyed it thoroughly. As, -however, the question of their possessing a sense of humour is open to -grave doubts--a fact proved by the very formation of the club and the -secrecy of its doings--it is infinitely more likely that the club writhed -under his well-pointed jibes and consigned the author to eternal -perdition. Then, too, the bland and smiling manner in which he turned -aside the violent pulpit denunciations of his hard-hit victims is -exhilarating to a degree. He received, for instance, a letter from an -anonymous friend (hidden behind the title "John Spy") who sent him an -account of the heated charges laid at his door by a certain grave college -Head. Terrae printed the letter and smilingly pointed out the reasons of -the man's wrath in a tone of charming tolerance. - -"You see, reader," he said, "that I had no sooner undertaken this task but -I raised a nest of holy wasps and hornets about my ears; an huge old -drone, grown to an excessive bulk upon the spoils of many years, has -thought fit, you see, to call me terrible names before his learned -audience, at St Mary's Church in Oxford; it is, it seems, an hellish -attempt to bring about a reformation of the universities; and it is daring -and impious in me to style myself a free-thinker and a free-speaker: poor -man! poor man! What! art afraid I should tell tales out of school, how a -certain fat doctor got his bedmaker with child, and play'd several other -unlucky pranks? That would be daring and impious indeed. No, no, never -fret thyself, man; I love a pretty woman myself, and I never desire any -better usage in this world than as I do unto others to be done unto -myself." - -Turning to politics, Terrae Filius summed up the attitude of the -authorities in Oxford in one short paragraph--which was made a hundred -times more severe by his assertion upon honour that religion received the -same treatment at their hands. - -"In politics my advice is the same as in religion--not to let your upstart -reason domineer over you, and say you must obey this king or that king; or -you must be of this party, or that party; instead of that, follow your -leaders; observe the cue, which they give you; speak as they speak; act as -they act; drink as they drink, and swear as they swear; comply with -everything which they comply with; and discover no scruples which they do -not discover." - -Upon a Whig and a Tory enquiring what was their exact position, he told -them that one day the Whig might be safe and have things all his own way, -but that the next the certainty of the Tory's being uppermost was -absolute. Finally he urged upon them that the only safe method of -proceeding was to employ what are called nowadays the Winston tactics--one -side one day, the other the next, according to one's greater individual -advantage. - -He dealt exhaustively with the peculiarly slack method of conducting, or -rather the practical non-existence of, university examinations. On reading -his account alone, it would very naturally be supposed that he was drawing -the long bow, caricaturing the existing conditions out of all shape and -possibility of recognition, and we laugh unreservedly. But further study -of other writers' criticisms of the times very quickly turns our smile -into a gasp of amazement. Terrae Filius was not caricaturing. All his -absurd and quite impossible relations of bribery and corruption were true. -It is precisely the same with all his papers. He has wisely written them -in the style of caricatures, and at times, no doubt, has indulged his -humour overmuch; but, on going into his inimitable showings up of drinking -and immoral Dons, political conflicts, university statutes, toasts, -smarts, or any one of the innumerable subjects dissected by him, and then -comparing his work with other eighteenth-century documents, one finds that -Terrae Filius carried out his boast and kept to the truth. - -Is there any man to-day who, at the age of twenty-four, has achieved such -notoriety, done such brilliant work, and proved himself to be such a -master of his craft? - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -'VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The Student--Cambridge included--Its design--The female student--Poem - by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury's letter--The manly woman. - - -On the first day of January, 1750, there appeared the first number of _The -Student_. The sub-title read: _The Oxford Monthly Miscellany_. For two -years it ran successfully, and, at the beginning of the second, it was -found that Cambridge took such an interest in its doings that the -sub-title was enlarged. It then read: _The Oxford and Cambridge Monthly -Miscellany_. In make-up it differed entirely from Terrae Filius, and -contended to be a far more serious and high-minded journal, aiming not so -much to amuse as to teach its readers. Thus it contained Latin prose and -verse, religious discussions, essays, medical dissertations, and a -carefully selected variety of lighter matter in English prose and verse. -The tone of the work may be gathered from the sedate foreword to the -public. - -"In the course of this work particular care will be taken that nothing be -inserted indecent or immoral, and as we are determined to give umbrage to -no Person or Party, all political disputes and whatever is offensive to -Good Manners will of consequence be avoided. Our design being only to -promote learning in general, we shall not confine ourselves to any -particular subject, but occasionally comprehend all the branches of polite -literature. Each number will consist of such originals in Prose and Verse -as we hope will prove agreeable to our readers. And tho' we might with -impunity comply with the common practice of preying indiscriminately on -the labours of others, yet we shall not to our knowledge publish any thing -that has been printed before, or without the consent of the respective -authors: for the one we consider as a fraud upon the publick, and the -other an invasion of private property. These considerations we presume -will remove any prejudice which the Learned may conceive against our -undertaking, and induce them not only to encourage, but assist us in the -prosecution of it. And as we must necessarily depend on the publick for -the Success of our work, we hope it will meet with their indulgence. No -endeavours on our part shall be wanting to render it worthy their -approbation; and we no longer desire their favour, than while we continue -to deserve it." - -In the first number there were some five or six pages of Latin verse, a -translation of the chorus at the end of the second act of _Hecuba of -Euripides_, an elegy in imitation of Tibullus, an article on "Intellectual -Pleasure"--the author of which was requested, in an editorial note, to -favour the paper with his further reflections--the speech of John Fell, -D.D., Bishop of Oxford, at his Triennial Visitation in the year 1685, an -article entitled "Leaning of no Party," and one or two lighter imaginative -contributions, such as "The Speech of an Old Oak to an Extravagant Young -Heir as He was going to be Cut Down," and an "Address to an Elbow Chair -Lately New Cloath'd." As there were no advertisements to assist the -editors with the printing bills, it speaks well for the literary taste of -the period that the paper lived two full years--the period to which the -editors limited themselves at the outset. Such a periodical at Oxford in -the year of grace 1911 would prove to be a hopeless anachronism. It would -arrive at a circulation of three copies per month--a free copy to the -British Museum, another to the Bodleian, and the third to the editor's -mother. The Undergraduates might finger it casually on the bookshop -counter, and the Dons read the first number on account of its novelty, but -it would die a speedy death unless by the second issue the editor -announced its coalition with the comic paper whose editor runs his -motor-car on the earnings of butcher and express messenger boys. - -One of the lighter features of _The Student_ was a series of letters from -Cambridge written by the female student. Her epistles were full of humour, -and she poked fun at the Undergraduates quietly, and in a manner not -wholly unlike Terrae Filius. Perhaps it is unfair to compare her efforts -to those of Amhurst, because as he jested and quipped in every conceivable -style and way, any one coming after him might be accused, quite unjustly, -of plagiarism. That the female student was not guilty of any false modesty -is easily to be seen from the account of herself in her preliminary -letter; while the care with which the editors of _The Student_ guarded the -decencies and the moralities ensured that she did not in any way cause a -breach in them by her broad-minded and outspoken contributions. She began -by claiming the student as a brother, a claim based upon her birth, -education, and the whole conduct of her life. She asserted that she, too, -was a student, having sounded the depths of philosophy and made greater -progress "in academical erudition" than most of the Dons whose profound -knowledge consisted in a "little cap with a short tuft and a large pompous -grizzle wig." She was born and brought up in Cambridge in the care of an -aunt. Her studies were directed by a grave Fellow of a college. Her aunt -was so fond of her that she was suffered to "give a loose to her passion -for literature," and the girl absorbed information from curling papers and -the lids of wig-boxes. When she was seventeen her tutor died of a surfeit -occasioned by feeding too freely at a gaudy, and the secret at last came -out that there had been a union between the Don and the aunt for nearly -twenty years. The aunt became, therefore, a mother, and she produced -documents to show that the Don's possessions were hers. The result of the -selling of the deceased's effects did not raise the good woman to a -condition of luxury. - -"However," said the girl, "she resolved to continue at Cambridge on my -account, and we lived together in a manner much genteeler than our fortune -would afford. My person (which, by-the-bye, I took as much pains to -cultivate as my mind) now began to be cried up as much as my parts. I was -a charming, clever, sweet, smart, witty, pretty creature, in short, I was -as much feared for my wit as ador'd for my beauty. From hence I had vanity -to fancy I could have anybody I pleased, and had therefore resolved within -myself to be run away with by a nobleman, or a baronet at least." - -But this witty, pretty creature unfortunately over-estimated her -possibilities. The next ten years passed in a round of gaiety which took -the form of courtship by no one under the rank of gentleman commoner. With -the baronet in view, however, such mere mortals fell in their hundreds. -Some she rejected "because a better might offer, some because they had too -much sense; others because they had too little; this was too old, that too -young," and, in consequence, she was gradually deserted, as her physical -charms waned, until at last her name was never mentioned "without the -odious reproach of 'she has been' added to it." - -At the moment of writing this first letter she was compelled to work for -her bread and the support of her mother. This she did with her pen, -turning out poems and novels; being, as she informed _The Student_, at -present engaged in "composing sermons for a bookseller, which he designs -to sell for the MS. Sermons of an eminent divine lately deceased, -warranted originals." - -_The Student_, liking the tone of her first letter, encouraged her to -write further, and from time to time she sent in various articles, such as -a scathing criticism of Academical Gallantry, in which she roundly chaffed -all gownsmen for their bragging propensities and gallant follies, and gave -an account of the various Dons and their habits who had laid vain siege to -her heart, and a discussion on the sin of living single, and the fustiness -of old maids--a plight in which she admitted herself to be, though not by -"desire or inclination." - -In spite of the editorial desire to give umbrage to no person or party, -certain of the Bucks seem to have considered her an unamusing, brazen -creature, whose inclusion in _The Student_ was a sad mistake, for she -received the following crushing letter from one of their number. - - "---- Coll., Oxford, _June 11, 1751_. - - "MADAM,--As the character I bear in this University is that of a - profess'd critic-general on pamphlets, and as my opinion is look'd - upon as infallible and oracular in a certain coffee-house frequented - by Wits, where a subscription is carried on for raking together the - dulness of the age, I think I may take the liberty (without being - styled Prig, Fop, Witling, or Poetaster) of transmitting you my full - and candid sentiments on your monthly productions. And first, Madam - Student, with as much laconic politeness as possible, I beg leave to - inform you that you pretend to that choice ingredient of good writing - Humour, without having one syllable of it. In a word, Madam, if you - have any Humour at all, it is that low species of it, never so much as - heard of in Greece and Rome, originally invented by Tom Brown of - blackguard memory, and now first revived by the Female Student. - - "This species (if it may call itself a species), I, myself, in right - of the sublime critical character with which the sensible Men of our - house have invested me, have christen'd Jack-Pudding Humour. To define - it were utterly impracticable. However, thus much may be said of it, - that it is made up of ill-breeding and ill-nature, and discovers a - remarkable want of classical reading, and a relish for authors of true - taste. It treats of subjects of a vague nature, and is (beside its - Jack-pudding affinity) of a mere Jack-lanthorn nature, neither here - nor there; in short, it is a topsy-turvy, rhapsodic, miscellaneous - method of writing. But, to come to the point. What I would recommend - to you is to leave off scribbling, and sit down seriously to sewing. - - "Why, Madam, you are nothing more than a bankrupt in beauty, a mere - discarded toast! I assure you, Mrs Student, you have no more chance of - getting reputation by your pen than you had of getting a husband by - your person.--Yours, - - "FRANK FIZZ-PUFF." - -Whether this letter really caused the good lady to take up sewing in -earnest it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that she was no more -seen in _The Student_--not even to the extent of an indignant feminine -outburst against Mr Fizz-Puff. - -Among the "never before" printed verses which the editor secured for his -columns were some written by Sir Walter Raleigh at Winchester in 1603, as -he lay under sentence of death. They were printed from a manuscript with -due care to preserve the spelling exactly as it was. The editor, however, -was in ignorance of the fact that they had already been published in 1608 -in the second edition of Davison's _Poetical Rhapsody_. - - "Goe, soul, the bodyes gueste, - Upon a thankless arrante, - Fear not to touche the beste, - The truth shall be thy warrante. - Goe, since I needs must dye, - And give them all the lye. - - "Goe, tell the court it glowse, - And shines like painted woode; - Goe, tell the church it shows - What's good, but does no good. - If court and church replye - Give court and church the lye." - -The moribund knight pursued his muse to the thirteenth verse, giving -everybody and everything the lie. The editor of _The Student_, undoubtedly -with the idea of pandering to all tastes, was careful to place these -verses in between a translation of a Latin epigram-- - - "I stole from sweet Gumming two kisses in play, - But she from myself stole myself quite away; - I grieve not I play'd, tho' so cruel the sport; - I'm more pleas'd than griev'd at the hurt." - -and an epistle in verse to Lord Cobham, written by Congrave, while in the -very near neighbourhood, was-- - - "THE HERMAPHRODITE. - - "_From the Latin_ - - "My mother, when she was with child of me, - Consulted heav'n what gender I should be. - Female, cried Mars; Apollo said, a Male; - Neither, quoth Juno; both your judgments fail. - My birth did prove the Goddess in the right; - Nor boy, nor girl, but an Hermaphrodite. - Again she ask'd them what my fate would be. - One said a sword, another said a tree; - Water a third, and they were right all three. - For from a tree I fell upon my sword, - Feet caught in boughs, head dangling in a ford. - Man, Woman, Neither, I at last was found, - Just as the Gods foretold, hang'd, stabb'd, and drown'd." - -A few numbers before that in which the coffee-house wit told the female -student just precisely what he thought of her, the editor received a -letter from another of these gentry at one of the coffee-houses. On behalf -of all his brother Smarts, Mr Harry Didapper took it upon himself to offer -a little friendly advice to the paper. He informed the editor that _The -Student_ was read with keen interest by them all, but that at times it -indulged in boring and pompous articles which, however they pleased the -editor himself, or the cultivated taste of his wig-maker, hosier and wine -merchant, left them angry and disappointed. The Smarts wished to have no -more abstract speculations and religious introspections. They wanted more -brightness and humanity about the paper. Consequently in the next issue -the editor published the following lamentation:-- - - "A RECEIPT FOR THE GOUT. - - "Oh Gout! the plague of rich and great! - Thou cramping padlock of the feet! - Oh Gout! thou puzzling knotty point! - You nick man's frame in every joint; - You, like inquisitors of Spain, - Rack, burn, and torture limbs to pain. - First, miner-like, you work below, - And sap man's fortress by the toe.... - And what is worse, the wounded part - Finds small relief from doctor's art. - Great Wilmot's skill confounded stands - When patient roars ... my toe! my hands!... - 'Tis said that bees, when raging found, - Are charm'd to peace by tinkling sound; - Shrill lullabies in nurse's strain - Asswage the froward bantling's pain, - When cutting teeth, or ill-plac'd pin, - Molest the tender baby's skin, - So when Gout-humours throb and ache, - The present soft prescription take. - In elbow-chair majectick sit - In full high twinge, yet scorn to fret; - Divert the pain with generous wine; - Read news from Flanders and the Rhine; - Hold up the toe like Pope of Rome; - Forbear to scold, and swear, and fume; - Let double flannel guard the part, - To mitigate the dreadful smart; - Wrap round the joint this harmless verse; - And let dame Patience be your nurse." - -Would any doctor in these times prescribe wine as a remedy against gout? -Whether the advice was sound or not, the Smarts appeared to have been -appeased, for there came no further complaints as to the stodginess of the -fare served up to them. - -In the same number of _The Student_ there appeared a letter from Bishop -Atterbury to his son Obadiah, who was up at the House. How the editor -procured it is not recorded, nor is it easy to see why he included it in -his columns. It cannot have been vastly entertaining to a list of -subscribers who devoted most of their time to ale and coffee-houses, or in -dallying with Amaryllis in the shade of Merton Wall. It is greatly -interesting to-day, however, as an example of what an eighteenth-century -parent indicted to his son. The contrast between this letter and the -replies one receives in 1911 in answer to one's brief epistles written, -mostly, solely in order to "touch the dad down for a bit" is not -unstriking. - - "DEAR OBBY,--I thank you for your letter, because there are manifest - signs in it of your endeavouring to excel yourself, and in consequence - to please me. You have succeeded in both respects, and will always - succeed, if you think it worth your while to consider what you write - and to whom, and let nothing, tho' of a trifling nature, pass through - your pen negligently. Get but the way of writing correctly and justly, - time and use will teach you to write readily afterwards. Not but that - too much care may give a stiffness to your style, which ought in all - letters by all means to be avoided. The turn of them should always be - natural and easy, for they are an image of private and familiar - conversation. I mention this with respect to the four or five first - lines of yours, which have an air of poetry, and do therefore - naturally resolve themselves into blank verses. I send you your letter - again, that you may make the same observation. But you took the hint - of that thought from a poem, and it is no wonder therefore, that you - heightened the phrase a little when you were expressing it. The rest - is as it should be; and particularly there is an air of duty and - sincerity, that if it comes from your heart, is the most acceptable - present you can make me. With these qualities an incorrect letter - would please me, and without them the finest thoughts and language - would make no lasting impression upon me. The great Being says, you - know--my son, give me thy heart--implying that without it all other - gifts signify nothing. Let me conjure you therefore never to say - anything, either in a letter or common conversation, that you do not - think, but always to let your mind and your words go together on the - most slight and trivial occasions. Shelter not the least degree of - insincerity under the notion of a compliment, which, as far as it - deserves to be practis'd by a man of probity, is only the most civil - and obliging way of saying what you really mean; and whoever employs - it otherwise, throws away truth for breeding; I need not tell you how - little his character gets by such an exchange. I say not this as if I - suspected that in any part of your letter you intended only to write - what was proper, without any regard to what was true; for I am - resolved to believe that you were in earnest from the beginning to the - end of it, as much as I am when I tell you that I am,--Your loving - father, etc." - -The editor of _The Student_ pronounced himself the champion of many and -various causes. For instance, he organised in his columns a fund for the -maintenance of the widows and children of deceased clergy in straightened -circumstances, which did an immense amount of good. His appeal for money -was nobly responded to in Oxford, and widely taken up by the public. -Another matter against which he took up the cudgels was the fondness shown -so largely by the fair sex for indulging in masculine sports in masculine -attire--more particularly hunting. From his account it is clear that a -very great percentage of ladies was horsey to the exclusion of all else, -even, in his eyes, of femininity. - -"I cannot," he wrote in an article occasioned by an amusing letter from a -short-sighted contributor who at dinner addressed his neighbour as Sir, -when all the time it was a lady, who, returning late from a day with the -hounds had had no time to change, "I cannot, indeed, but highly disapprove -not only the habit, but also the cause of it. It makes them appear rough -and manlike: it robs them of all the endearing softness, all the alluring -tenderness, that so captivates and charms the heart. As pity and a certain -degree of timorousness are essentially woven into their constitution, do -they not pervert the very end of their creation, who daringly tempt the -perils of the chace, or exult in the prosecution and death of a poor -harmless animal? If the laws of _decency_ are not broke thro' by such an -unbecoming practice, I am sure, those of _delicacy_ are, which above all -things 'tis the business of the fair to keep up." - -As an example of the unnatural and indelicate results of a woman being -sporting the editor related with pathos the story of one Peggy Atall, who -was brought up, her mother being dead, by her father, a country squire, to -all the "labourious sports of the field." Hunting was, however, her -obsession, and she was noted as the boldest rider in the country. "As she -is an heiress, many a young fox hunter, whose love has been greater than -his prudence, has hazarded his neck and cheaply come off with a dislocated -limb or so, in following her thro' the various perils and hairbreadth -'scapes of the chace." The editor, who had the good fortune to know this -fair Diana, was, fortunately for himself, not in love with her, judging by -the avowedly casual manner in which he visited at her house. But he was -none the less deeply pained that "her whole conversation turns on that -topic. I have often heard her charm a large circle of gaping -fellow-sportsmen with a recapitulation of the feats of the day. She would -descant a whole hour on the virtues of Dreadnought, her own horse, who had -brought her in at the death of a stag, with Tom the huntsman, when every -gentleman on the field was thrown out; concluding with the most exulting -expressions of barbarous joy at seeing the poor beast torn to pieces." He -brought his reflections to an end by strongly urging all his fair-hunting -readers to "lay aside the spirit of the chace together with the cap, the -whip, and _all the masculine attire_." It is more than probable that as -the editor of a modern daily or weekly paper his remarks _à propos_ of -suffragette raids, and all the little delicate ventures in which women -vote-seekers indulge their fancy, would make very bright and spirited -reading. He was evidently born before his time. Be that as it may, he -undoubtedly conducted his paper on popular lines, for he was enabled to -keep it alive during the two years which he had mapped out for himself in -the beginning. Its fame was not local to Oxford and Cambridge. He received -letters of congratulation from Edinburgh, Dublin, and other university -towns--the senders of course enclosing contributions with their letters of -praise! - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -'VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to the - _Cozeners_ written by Mr Garrick--Visions, fables and moral - tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789. - - -_The Student_ was followed after a lapse of some eighteen years by the -_Oxford Magazine_, a monthly miscellany. Devoted to no one particular -object, the editors declared its columns open to every kind of literary -matter--scientific, historical, antiquarian. Light and merely amusing -subjects were also given a place in its pages. They boasted in addition a -feature which no other periodical had ever included--illustrations. _The -Student_, it is true, had an allegorical engraving as a frontispiece to -each volume, but the _Oxford Magazine_ went one better and had -copper-plates of many of the noteworthy persons and happenings of the day, -which were "made from the most striking subjects." "Satirical and -political cards will be given in each number, executed by the most -ingenious artists; which, it is hoped, will vie, in humour and satire, -with the late celebrated Mr Hogarth's performances." Other features which -the editors dealt with far more enterprisingly than any other papers of -the century were the Drama and the Law Courts. In each number there -appeared a criticism of a Drury Lane production with the cast in full, a -description of the play, the plot given in _précis_ form, and a general -summing up of the merits or demerits of the writing and acting. Each of -these ran to several columns, and in some numbers there were criticisms of -two or three productions. Besides dealing with the Law Courts in the -Domestic Intelligence columns, which acted as a sort of monthly review of -events, there were full reports of some of the important trials of the -time. The editors' foreword was not without interest, giving, as it did, -an exact idea of their plan of campaign. On the title page it was stated -that the magazine was "calculated for general instruction and amusement." -To this end they put forward following the programme:-- - -"Among other subjects of general entertainment, the authors propose to -give, in the course of this magazine, complete systems of every branch of -useful learning, enriched with all the improvements of modern writers. -They do not, however, propose to confine their labours entirely to the -elucidation of the sciences; they propose to give a large account of the -political and other transactions in different parts of the world, -especially in our own country; every remarkable event, every uncommon -debate, and every interesting turn of affairs will be recorded. A copious -and authentic history of foreign and domestick occurrences will also be -given, digested in a chronological series, containing all the material -news of the month. To render this performance agreeable to every class of -readers, care will be taken to furnish it with pieces calculated for -general entertainment. The elegant amusements of literature, the flights -of poetical fancy, and the brilliant sallies of inoffensive wit, shall -find a place in our _Magazine_. In a word, researches into antiquity; -elucidations of ancient writers; criticisms on every branch of literature; -essays in prose and verse; visions, fables, moral tales, etc., will make a -part of this performance. The correspondence of the ingenious is therefore -requested...." - -On the lighter side of the periodical, one of the features was a monthly -collection from contemporary London papers of curious and remarkable -advertisements. They evidently appealed strongly to the supporters of the -paper, as, after the first volume, the editors gave them in greater -number. Some of them, indeed, were not without humour--of the broader kind -then in vogue--as will be seen from the few examples appended:-- - - "A maiden lady, who lately died in Ireland, left two guineas each to - four maidens, aged twenty-five, to be her pall-bearers, each of whom - was to swear she was a maid, before receiving the money; but such is - the detestation in which perjury is held in Ireland, that the old lady - was buried without a pall-bearer.--_Public Advertiser_, July 8." - - "To the Single Women.--A Single Man wants to Lodge, or Lodge and - Board, with a Single Woman whether in business or not; keeps regular - hours, will not give much trouble, but spends many evenings at home; - therefore wishes to meet with a very conversable person and is willing - to pay a _handsome_ price.--_Gazetteer_, Nov. 22." - - "On Thursday last a publican in Shoreditch sold his wife to a butcher - for a ticket in the present lottery, on condition that if the ticket - be drawn a blank he is to have his wife again as soon as the drawing - of the lottery is over.--_Public Advertiser_, Sep. 19." - - "If any real gentleman will oblige a _lady_ of character with _one - hundred pounds_, for six months, on her own bond, the gentleman may - have an advantage, which cannot be mentioned in a public newspaper; it - is desired that none may apply who cannot command the sum - immediately.--Please to direct a line to J. X. at Mr Tomb's No. 72 - Fetter Lane." - - "If Mr ----, lately a Latin master at an academy in town, who has got - a dozen and a half of shirts belonging to Mr Wh--e, does not call on - his guardian in Coleman Street immediately, and give satisfaction for - the said shirts, his name will be advertised with many other - circumstances not to his advantage.--_Daily Advertiser_, Dec. 16." - - "Mrs K---- (who was in one of the front boxes at the representation of - the 'Trip to Scotland') was observed to blush four times behind her - fan, occasioned, it is imagined, at the repetition of the words single - and _double beds_; as it is said to be well known that in her - elopement to Scotland only a _single bed_ was used going and - returning." - -The above are a few specimens of the flowers of wit, printed extensively -at the time in many of the papers, culled from many volumes of the _Oxford -Magazine_. At the end of Volume IX., however, there was found to be no -further desire for them, and they were quietly dropped into the limbo of -forgotten things. The columns thus relieved were filled with anecdotes and -articles of a much less lively but more literary nature. - -The opening article in the first volume was a very serious essay, fully -equipped with examples and quotations from the ancients, on the Power of -the Passions. This was followed by a consideration as to whether genius is -a natural gift or an effect of education. From the great similarity of -style in the two articles, it is extremely probable that they were written -by the same pen. The next ten columns were occupied by a _verbatim_ report -of various speeches made in the Court of King's Bench, and in certain -London clubs. The Surgeon Dentist to His Majesty then contributed a -flowing article on the disorders and deformities of the teeth and gums, in -which mothers might find copious hints as to the teething of their -infants. For the patrons of the Drama, unable to get up to London, there -was "Some Account of the Statesman Foil'd, a Musical Comedy in Two Acts, -composed by Mr Rush; and performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket." -Even in those days it would seem that dramatic critics were of the settled -opinion that their task was never to praise, but only to carp and pick -holes, for, after giving a description of the play which read very -amusingly and well, the critic concluded by saying that although "several -of the songs are very prettily set, they are undoubtedly inferior to Mr -Rush's former compositions; and the dialogue not remarkable for sentiment -or wit, is often extremely tiresome." - -In whatever spirit the criticisms were written, however, it cannot be said -that the university, only allowed to perform plays after a deal of -discussion and recrimination on the part of the powers that were, did not -take a great interest in the Drama. As the _Oxford Magazine_ proceeded, -more and more space was devoted to the London productions, and whole -scenes which were deemed of literary and dramatic merit were quoted from -them. Many of the songs, too, were published at length. The July number in -1774 contains, for example, "an account of the new comedy called the -_Cozeners_ as it was performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket." The -cast is quoted in full and, besides telling the story of the play in some -three columns, the prologue was printed. - -The critic of the _Magazine_ wrote about it as follows:-- - -"The piece was introduced with an excellent prologue, replete with the -true Attic salt (said to be written by Mr Garrick), and spoken by Mr -Foote, in which he compared himself to a watchman, whose business it is to -watch over the rising vices and follies of the age, and when they come to -a certain height, _knock them down_, by exposing them on the stage. As -nothing ever deserved applause more, so nothing was ever more warmly -received by the audience." Of all the criticisms of the various -productions in whose casts are to be found the names of Mrs Siddons, Mrs -Love, Mr Foote, Mrs Yates, and many other famous actors and actresses of -the time, that of the _Cozeners_ is the most warm and praisegiving of any -printed in the _Magazine_. - -Among the visions, fables, and moral tales promised by the editors, there -was a vivid and detailed description of a nun's taking the veil. The -writer spent himself in explanation of every word and deed that occurred -during the ceremony, but whether the article, which ran through several -issues and was written by a person of the male sex, was considered a -vision, a fable, or a moral tale, it is impossible to say. Whichever it -was, however, it was well observed and highly coloured. Then there -followed a curious little contribution which was labelled a tale, but -which ought surely to have been included in the category of visions or -fables. It was entitled the "Kiss," and came from the German. "When I was -a youth, my father sent me to Paphos to study love, which I there learnt -of a Dryad.... Fair one, you may now learn of me what a Kiss is. The -Nymphs and Dryads never met to dance, without making me one of the party; -for I was dedicated to the God of Love, and everything within me expressed -the sentiment. - -"At this tender age I tasted the most pure pleasure. All Paphos, to me, -seemed to dance; for the little loves danced over my head, and the flowers -danced under my feet. Among the Dryads was one who affected always to -chuse me for her partner; she never failed to smile at me sweetly, to -squeeze my hand, and blush afterwards with all the graces of modesty. And -I squeezed also the hand of the Dryad, and blushed when I danced with her. -Even before Aurora had quitted the ocean I was already in the grove -sporting with my amiable Dryad. - -"Sometimes I surprised her in the groves, where she had retired, amidst -the thickest foliage, and where she wished to be discovered; sometimes she -watched me when I hid myself, and, when she discovered me, fled, and I -pursued in hopes of overtaking her. But, all of a sudden, she would -inclose herself in the bark of an oak, and elude my pursuit. And when I -had sought her long in vain, she used to burst into loud fits of laughter; -then I entreated her to come out of her place of concealment, and -immediately I saw her issue, smiling, from the body of the tree. - -"One day that I was playing with my Dryad in the wood, she tenderly patted -my cheeks and said, 'Press your lips against mine.' I pressed my lips -against hers; but, heavens! what pleasure did I then experience! No, the -honey that flows from Mount Hymettus is not so sweet, nor the fruit of the -vines of Surentum; even nectar, the nectar which Ganymede presents to the -immortal gods, is a thousand times less delicious. - -"Then she again glued her lips to mine. In the intoxication of my -transport, I cried: 'Oh incomparable beauty! tell me the name of this -exquisite pleasure, which glides into my very soul from thy lips, whenever -our lips meet each other?' She answered, with a gracious smile--'a Kiss!'" - -This odd little piece of imaginative writing was printed on the same page -with a sketch of the trial of Samuel Gillam, Esq., for murder! - -It is not easy to conceive that the _Oxford Magazine_ was very popular -among Bucks of the first head, for there were, indeed, none of the -references to toasts, accompanied by frequent sonnets, which occupied so -large a place in the journals earlier in the century. The tone of the -paper was more sedate throughout. There was less of the bottle and -drinking bout. The contributions covered a far wider field of interest. - -The magazine is in some sort a combination of, or rather, perhaps, an -advance upon, _Jackson's Journal_ and _The Student_. The editors united -the ideas of both these periodicals. From the one they obtained the notion -of the monthly summary of events collected from all parts; and from the -other, the idea of illustrations and fiction. The result of this -perfectly-justifiable plagiarism was certainly popular. The magazine ran -for about eight years without financial aid in the form of advertisements, -and at the end of each issue the acknowledgment of contributions, both -articles and illustrations, made a considerable list. Obviously, -therefore, the wide diversity of subjects and the not over-serious form in -which they were served up appealed to a public which hitherto had had to -be satisfied with the half-measures of those previous men who had been -bold enough to undertake the editing of 'varsity papers. - -The beginning of the last decade of the century saw the _début_ of _The -Loiterer_, which admittedly took its idea from Terrae Filius. Naturally, -it did not resemble it in style--the time for a Terrae Filius was -over--but in so much as Amhurst went no farther than the university gates -for his matter, _The Loiterer_ may be said to have imitated him. -Consequently, the first volume (there were only two) was practically -confined to subjects of academical life. The second volume, however, was -not reserved wholly to university matters--articles of outside interest -being admitted from time to time. The whole work was offered to the world -by the editors as "a rough, but not entirely inaccurate Sketch of the -Character, the Manners, and the Amusements of Oxford, at the close of the -eighteenth century." The paper was hawked at threepence a copy every -Saturday morning--for which price the editors promised, on their word of -honour as gentlemen and authors, to cram it as full of learning, sense, -and wit as they could possibly afford for the money. As a foretaste of the -threepenny wit to come, they stated in their foreword that they hoped to -receive some credit for one thing at least, "that particular orders have -been given to Mr Rann (the publisher) that _The Loiterer_ should regularly -make his appearance at Nine o'clock, in order to be served up with the -bread and butter, crusts and muffins, and enter the room in good company. -We have been the more particular in this circumstance," they continued, -"as it is the only hour, out of the twenty-four, in which there is a -probable chance of finding some of our Brother Loiterers at home, and the -only one in which any of them read: so genteel and so useful indeed is -this love of morning study, that were it not for the necessity of eating -breakfast, and of dressing hair, it is to be doubted whether some of our -numerous fraternity would not, in a short time, forget their letters." - -This serving up with breakfast was a very wise move on the editors' part, -for they knew from experience that it was the only hour when they stood -the least chance of being read--the rest of the day being passed by most -men in the strenuous occupation of killing time. The writer of article -number four in _The Loiterer_ was on his way to a lecture one morning when -he saw a man whom he knew leaning against the college gate with a vacant -expression on his serene countenance. Thinking that the poor fellow did -not know what to do with himself, the writer offered to take him to the -lecture which, he said, was to be remarkably entertaining. The lounger was -most polite in his thanks, and said he should have liked it above all -things, but that at the moment he was extremely busy and really had not -time. The writer, a little surprised, left him and attended the lecture, -returning two hours later to find the man leaning against the same -gate-post in nearly the same attitude. - -In the face of such stagnation who shall deny the wisdom of sending the -paper in with the hot roll, thereby catching the time-killers before they -have begun their day's task? The writer concluded his narrative of ancient -lounging and reflections on the passing of the law whereby Undergraduates -were forbidden under severe penalties to loiter away their time in sitting -on Pennyless Bench, by giving the diary of a week in the life of an -Undergraduate in 1789. It is an extremely excellent and amusing piece of -work, which shows that there were past-masters in the gentle art of -slacking who seriously challenge some of the present-day exponents. - - "DIARY OF A MODERN OXFORD MAN (1789). - - "_Sunday._--Waked at eight o'clock by the scout, to tell me the bell - was going for prayers--wonder those scoundrels are allowed to make - such a noise--tried to get to sleep again, but could not--sat up and - read Hoyle in bed--ten, got up and breakfasted--Charles called to ask - me to ride--agreed to stay until the President was gone to - Church--half after eleven, rode out, going down the High Street saw - Will Sagely going to St Mary's--can't think what people go to church - for. Twelve to two, rode round Bullington Green, met Careless and a - new Freshman of Trinity--engaged them to dine with me--two to three, - lounged at the stable, made the Freshman ride over the Bail, talked to - him about horses: see he knows nothing about the matter--went home and - dressed--three to eight, dinner and wine--remarkable pleasant - evening--sold Rackett's stone horse for him to Careless's friend for - fifty guineas--certainly break his neck--eight to ten, coffee-house, - and lounged in the High Street--Stranger went home to study; am afraid - he's a bad one--engaged to hunt to-morrow and dine with - Rackett--twelve, supped and went to bed early, in order to get up - to-morrow. - - "_Monday._--Racket _rowed_ me up at seven o'clock--sleepy and queer, - but forced to get up and make breakfast for him--eight to five in the - afternoon, hunting--famous run, and killed near Bicester--number of - tumbles--Freshman out on Rackett's stone horse--got the devil of a - fall into a ditch--horse upon him--but don't know whether he was - killed or not. Five, dressed and went to dine with Rackett--Dean had - cross'd his name, and no dinner to be got--went to the Angel and - dined--famous evening till eleven, when the Proctors came and told us - to go home to our colleges--went directly the contrary way--eleven to - one, went down into St Thomas's and fought a raff--one, dragged home - by somebody, the Lord knows whom, and put to bed. - - "_Tuesday._--Very bruised and sore, did not get up till twelve--found - an imposition on my table--mem. to give it to the hairdresser--drank - six dishes of tea--did not know what to do with myself, so wrote to my - father for money. Half after one, put on my boots to ride for an - hour--met Careless at the stable--rode together--asked me to dine with - him and meet Jack Sedley, who is just returned from France--two to - three, returned home and dressed--four to seven, dinner and wine--Jack - very pleasant--told some good stories--says the French women have - thick legs--no hunting to be got, and very little wine--won't go there - in a hurry--seven, went to the stable, and then looked in at the - coffee-house--very few drunken men, and nothing going forwards--agreed - to play Sedley at billiards--Walker's table engaged, and forced to - go to the Blue Posts--lost two guineas--thought I could have beat him, - but the dog has been practising in France--ten, supper at - Careless's--bought Sedley's mare for thirty guineas--think he knows - nothing of a horse, and believe I have done him. Drank a little punch - and went to bed at twelve. - -[Illustration: OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING.] - - "_Wednesday._--Hunted with the Duke of B.--very long run, rode the new - mare, found her sinking, so pulled up in time and swore I had a shoe - lost--to sell her directly--buy no more horses of Sedley--knows more - than I thought he did.--Four, returned home, and as I was dressing to - dine with Sedley, received a note from some country neighbours of my - father's to desire me to dine at the Cross--obliged to send an excuse - to Sedley--wanted to put on my cap and gown--cap broke and gown not to - be found, forced to borrow--half after four to ten, at the Cross with - my _Lions_--very _loving_ evening indeed--ten, found it too bad, so - got up and told them it was against the rules of the university to be - out later. - - "_Thursday._--Breakfasted at the Cross, and walked all the morning - about Oxford with my Lions--terrible flat work--Lions very - troublesome--asked an hundred and fifty silly questions about every - thing they saw. Wanted me to explain the Latin inscriptions on the - monuments in Christ Church Chapel!--Wanted to know how we spent our - time!--forced to give answers as well as I could. Four, forced to give - them a dinner and, what was worse, to sit with them till six, when I - told them I was engaged for the rest of the evening, and sent them - about their business--seven, dropped in at Careless's rooms, found him - with a large party, all pretty much _cut_--thought it was a good time - to sell him Sedley's mare, but he was not quite drunk enough--made a - bet with him that I trotted my poney from Benson to Oxford within the - hour--sure of winning, for I did it the other day in fifty minutes. - - "_Friday._--Got up early and rode the poney a foot pace over to Benson - to breakfast--Old Shrub breaks fast--told him of the bet and showed - him the poney--shook his head and looked cunning when he heard of - it--good sign--after breakfast rode the race, and won easy, but could - not get any money; forced to take Careless's draught; daresay its not - worth two pence; great fool to bet with him. Twelve till three, - lounged at the stable, and cut my horse's tail--eat soup at - Sadler's--walked down the High Street--met Rackett, who wanted me to - dine with him, but could not because I was engaged to Sagely--three, - dinner at Sagely's--very bad--dined, in a cold hall, and could get - nothing to eat--wine new--a bad fire--tea-kettle put on at five - o'clock--played at Whist for sixpences, and no bets--thought I should - have gone to sleep--terrible work dining with a studious man--eleven, - went to bed out of spirits. - - "_Saturday._--Ten, breakfast--attempted to read _The Loiterer_; but it - was too stupid; flung it down and took up 'Bartlett's Farriery'--had - not read two pages before a dun came, told him I should have some - money soon--would not be gone--offered him brandy--was sulky, and - would not have any--saw he was going to be _savage_, so kicked him - downstairs to prevent his being impertinent. Thought perhaps I might - have more of them, so went to lounge at the stables--poney got a bad - cough--and the black horse thrown out two splints--went back to my - room in an ill-humour--found a letter from my father, no money and a - great deal of advice--wants to know how my last quarter's allowance - went--how the devil should I know?--he knows I keep no accounts--do - think fathers are the greatest _Bores_ in nature. Very low-spirited - and flat all the morning--some thought of reforming, but luckily - Careless came in to beg me to meet our party at his rooms, so altered - my mind, dined with him, and by nine in the evening was very happy." - -It is amazing to think how many men there are in this year of grace -nineteen hundred and eleven who, if they should take it into their heads -to keep a diary, would have to write down page after page of exactly the -same stuff, would express exactly the same sentiments about their father, -and whose projects of a lasting reform would be for ever scattered by just -such a careless tap upon their oak. And yet it is written: _Tempora -mutantur_! - -_The Loiterer_ was not sold only to the local public at Oxford. It had a -quite large outside circulation, with agents in London, Birmingham, Bath, -and Reading, and ran for a year and three months. At the end of this -period the authors, the principal ones, revealed their identity and -retired from the editorial pinnacle into the comparative oblivion of their -Fellowships, having cause to congratulate themselves upon no small -success. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet._--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford._--_The - Oxford Act._--_The Oxford Sausage._--Present and latter day literature - summed up. - - -There were many other minor literary outputs which made their appearance -from time to time through the century, but it would be tedious to analyse -all of them. The outstanding ones were _The Oxford Packet_, _Academia: or -the Humours of Oxford_, _The Oxford Act_, Tom Warton's fighting poem -entitled _The Triumph of Isis_, and _The Oxford Sausage_. - -_The Oxford Packet_ was a purely topical piece of writing containing -heated articles on the burning questions of the moment in Oxford. It was -published in London, "printed for J. Roberts in 1714," with a list of -contents including "(1) News from Magdalene College (Sacheverell's -Inscription on a piece of plate); (2) Antigamus: or a Satire against -Marriage, written by Mr Thomas Sawyer; (3) A Vindication of the _Oxford_ -Ladies, wherein are displayed the amours of some Gentlemen of _All Souls_ -and _St John's Colleges_." - -_Academia_, perpetrated by a woman, Alicia d'Anvers, ridiculed the manners -and customs of the university in a pointed and quite scurrilous manner. It -lived up to its sub-title, however, for it was an extremely humorous piece -of work. - -In 1733 there appeared the _The Oxford Act_, a ballad opera. A crude and -unamusing play, it is nevertheless interesting as containing the germ of -modern musical comedy. The idea of the piece was to satirise university -politics, but the lack of construction and the laboured manner in which -the dramatist introduced his songs and manoeuvred his characters makes it -tedious and rather difficult to appreciate. - -_The Triumph of Isis_ was occasioned by a denunciation of Oxford by a -Cambridge man, William Mason, who was guilty of a poem entitled _Isis_. In -it he taunted Oxford upon the degeneracy of her sons who - - "... madly bold - To Freedom's foes infernal orgies hold." - -This was more than any devoted son of _Alma mater_ could stand. -Accordingly, Tom Warton, stung to a retort, girded up his loins and flung -off _The Triumph of Isis_, in which he hurled ten thousand thunderbolts at -_The Venal Sons of Slavish Cam_. Dr Anderson, who wrote a preface to the -collection of Warton's poems, says, "It is remarkable that though neither -Mason nor Warton ever excelled these performances, each of them as by -consent, when he first collected his poems into a volume, omitted his own -party production."[23] - -It was not until 1764 that _The Oxford Sausage_ was concocted. Its title -is singularly apt. It was a volume of choice scraps--selected pieces in -prose and verse which had already made their appearance in other and -earlier publications. It included several poems by Tom Warton, who edited -_The Sausage_, and contained others from _The Student_ and the _Oxford -Journal_. - -These then are the literary productions which distinguished the eighteenth -century in Oxford. From the numerous excerpts and passages quoted in -preceding chapters it will have been seen that there is not only an -enormous difference between the writing of the eighteenth century and -to-day in style and treatment, but in the method of conducting a paper. -To-day it is quite impossible to call a spade a spade. In those days it -was exactly the opposite. The whole point of writing was to call things by -their proper names. In fact, any other method would have been completely -misunderstood. The morals of the time were not more lax than now--that -would be impossible--but the language employed was, to put it mildly, very -much more unguarded. - -Matters were openly discussed in the drawing-rooms of the eighteenth -century which nowadays are supposed to be whispered in smoking-rooms. -Drunkenness and other kindred vices were held in high esteem. It was "the -thing" for him who had any aspirations to be a man of the world to have a -half dozen bottles of wine to his own cheek at one sitting, and unless he -succeeded in arriving at that state of helplessness which necessitated -bodily assistance from persons unknown, he was a dismal social failure. -Women, whose husbands were carried home night after night, smiled -leniently and did not dream of interfering. Many ladies indeed did not -deny themselves the solace of the bottle, and in the records of the time I -have found more than one reference to women who were well-known, almost -licensed, topers. The question of toasts, too, and the light in which the -university held them, was Gilbertian. The statutes sternly forbade them -under penalty of dire pains and punishments, but for all practical -purposes the statutes were a waste of time. Oxford was famed for her -toasts, and their dealings were not confined solely to the gownsmen but -also to Dons and Heads of colleges, who, far from carrying out the -statutes which they had made, pooh-poohed them and indulged themselves to -their heart's content. - -With such a condition of things it is not very remarkable that the -literature of the time should be characterised by coarseness of language -and ideas. Its humour was of the riper kind which permitted of no -possible misunderstanding. Many of the jokes printed in such periodicals -as the _Oxford Journal_ and the _Oxford Magazine_--both papers in high -repute which circulated among Dons, Undergraduates and residents--would be -quite unprintable to-day even in the most yellow of the sporting papers. -The pen of Amhurst was hampered by no considerations of delicacy or -modesty. Whatever he felt on any subject that he wrote, boldly and without -mincing, and the fact that his articles were read with interest and -delight by male and female alike is proof that there is no blame attaching -to him for scurrility. He was merely in the period. There are also -instances of women who wrote with almost the same degree of frankness as -did Alicia d'Anvers, who had, as I have shown, an immodesty of style -unique in the entire century. She satirised all the manners, customs, -hobbies and vices of the university with flagrant lack of good taste -which, judging by the characteristics of the time, made her poem a great -success. - -In the eighteenth century there were neither advertisements--except in the -_Oxford Journal_, and they were few in number--nor athletic fixtures. The -editors, therefore, had to rely entirely upon the merits of the articles -printed in their paper. Their sole hope of life lay in circulation, and as -they had not then discovered such "adventitious aids" as idols and open -letters, they were forced to do their utmost to make their paper bright -and readable. That they did so is obvious from the great number of -contributors who sent in articles regularly, and that, too, without any -hope of payment. - -From the point of view of journalism there is no paper in Oxford to-day -which can survive a comparison with Terrae Filius. He did not go outside -the university for his subjects, and yet in each paper he was topical, -forcible, and to the point. Beyond this he was amusing, and there was a -sting in each single word which made the unhappy subject of his attack -squirm in his place. He did not indulge in long-winded and abortive -discussions about matters of no interest whatever to the university, such -as are invariably to be seen in twentieth-century papers. He instinctively -hit upon the only subject each week that was before the eye of Oxford, and -in straightforward, pithy language wrote it down, laughed at it, or cried -over it. In whatever spirit he treated it he left nothing more to be said. -He used it up, exhausted it, and turned to the next point. Not having any -advertisers to consider--and he would certainly not have considered them -had they existed--he said what he wanted to say without fear or favour, -and if he did not attain to such financial success as does the milk and -water stuff of to-day, he did establish, beyond all argument, a reputation -which has already survived two centuries. Which of the existing Oxford -journals can hope to compete against such a record? - -However much eighteenth-century writers merit the charge of -coarseness--and it is not laid at their door in the spirit of blame but -merely as an illustration of things as they existed--they undoubtedly -attained a higher literary standard than the Undergraduate writers of -to-day. As, however, I have said that the modern standard does not rise -above mediocrity, I am not paying a very great compliment to the writers -of the Rowlandson period. Such is, however, my intention, for I cannot see -that there is such great brilliance in the eighteenth-century papers as to -justify my launching out into paeans of adulation. In all the publications -of the time there were, as I have shown, some excellent pieces of writing. -The sonnets and epigrams, dashed off at the coffee-houses to the beauties -of the reigning toast, were filled with classical allusions and subtle -parallels. This is somewhat remarkable because the Bloods admittedly never -did any reading. They had no time for it. However likeable and readable -these were, there was no genius, no striking merit in any of them. They -certainly showed more promise than the greater part of the work of -twentieth-century Oxford men--a point which is emphasised by the fact that -our predecessors were generally three or four years younger on going up to -the university. To-day we go up at about nineteen years of age. In those -days it was the fashion for men to arrive in Oxford in their fifteenth or -sixteenth year. - -With the exception of Nicholas Amhurst, from whom I have drawn with so -much pleasure, there can be found no Undergraduate of Georgian times whose -genius, in however crude a form, awoke in the pages of university -literature. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student's_ opinion of one--A Tradesman's poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties--Tradesmen's taste in - literature--Advertising and _The Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, - innkeeper--Amhurst's confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts. - - -Like Nemesis, the Oxford tradesman has sooner or later to be reckoned -with. His methods are, and for that matter always were, rather -spider-like. He sets out a beautiful and enticing web in his shop window, -and sits placidly in the darkness of his back parlour to await results. -One after another the Undergraduates, foolish flies, dash in; and then, -when they have been given sufficient time--a year or so--the spider -pounces and demands his just, but frequently exorbitant, dues. Sometimes -he does not get them. Spiders, however, rarely come in for any sympathy. - -The old-time Oxford tradesman was undoubtedly a man of parts. In all the -periodicals of the time are to be found odes, couplets, and prose-writings -all singing his praise. He constituted a factor of importance in the daily -routine of eighteenth-century life. It must, indeed, have been a sick -Smart who did not visit daily his barber and _perruquier_, his -horse-dealer, his tobacco merchant, his mercer and tailor, his -coffee-house. These worthy townsmen seem to have been, in fact, the sole -_raison d'être_ of the Smart's university career, and their pseudo -erudition and quite exceptional powers were the cause of an enthusiastic -article from the pen of _The Student_. - -"A tradesman of Oxford," he wrote, "is no more like another common -tradesman than some collegians are like other men ... the very sign-posts -express their taste for learning and superiour education. Our mercers, -milliners, taylors, etc., etc., have shewn their nice judgments in the art -of designing, by the many curious emblematical devices that so eminently -adorn the entrances to their shops. How sublime are the signs of our -innkeepers! the Angel, the Cross, the Mitre, the Maidenhead, with many -others, are too well known to need mentioning. A tooth drawer amongst us -denotes his occupation by an excellent poetical distich; a second with -great propriety stiles himself operator for the teeth: and my printer who -sells James's fever powder, Greenough's tinctures, Hoopers' female pills, -and the like, exhibits to our view in large golden letters over his door -the pompous denomination of Medicinal Warehouse. Nor are we at all -surprised to see written in this learned university, tho' over a female -bookseller's door, 'BIBLIOPOLIUM MARIAE,' etc. - -"Not to dwell too minutely on externals, every tradesman with us is a -mathematician, or philosopher, or divine, or critick, and what not? But -they are all to a man particularly famous for their skill in arithmetick. -For my own part I never dealt with one yet who was not thoroughly -practised in addition and multiplication. - -"I know an ale-houseman (he sells an excellent pot of ale) who has made -several experiments in electricity, but without a machine: I know a -grocer, a profound reasoner and speculative moralist, a bookbinder deeply -read in Geography, Chorography, etc., and a glazier, a great -mathematician, who has squar'd the circle several time _all but a little -bit_. A barber has published a cutting poem lately, which is universally -admired, and all his own making. It is not to be doubted that our Oxford -booksellers are excellent criticks. They can tell you the character of a -book by only looking at the title page. My own, in particular, is so fine -a judge of composition, that he begs me not to send anything to the press -till it has been submitted to his correction. Besides, I know he has a -strong desire to begin author himself, but his singular modesty will not -permit him to own it. He has, therefore, prevailed with me to erect a -small box, with a slit, in his door to receive the contributions of those -writers who chuse to be concealed. As I know the man's vanity will oblige -him sometimes to put in his mite, I desire the reader, when he meets with -anything particularly dull, to suppose it written, not by me, but my -bookseller. - -"I have often heard two learned tradesmen chop logick together on the most -sublime topicks. Once, in particular, I was present at a very important -dispute, when a shoemaker (a very honest fellow) affirmed, to the general -satisfaction of his audience, that the world was eternal from the -beginning, and would be so to the end of it. At another time, the -discourse running upon politics, a mercer (no small man, I can assure you) -wonder'd what a duce we would have. 'I'm sure,' says he, 'there's not a -happier Island in England than Great Britain; and a man may chuse his own -Religion, that he may, whether it be Mahometism or Infidelity.' A little -while ago I lent my Smith's harmonicks to my Musick-master, who has since -return'd it, assuring me that it is not worth a farthing; for 'twould -teach me the Thievery mayhap, but as for the Practicks, he'll put me into -a betterer method. I could produce many more such instances which I have -gleaned from their conversations; but these will be sufficient to convince -the world that no subject is too high, no point too intricate for their -exalted capacities.... I cannot conclude better than by giving a specimen -of an Oxford tradesman's poetical genius, in an extract of a letter from -my taylor, who (in the college phrase) put the dun upon me. In my answer I -advised him to peruse Philips's description of a dun in his splendid -shilling: to which he made me this reply.... 'But now to that which, you -say, breaks all friendship, a dun, horrible monster! I have _bruis'd_ -Philips, though, in some places too hard. As to the appellation, I cannot -think it rightly apply'd.' - - "For I - Ne'er yet did thunder with my vocal heel, - Nor call'd yet thrice with hideous accent dire; - But only with my pen declar'd my dread, - What most I fear'd, the horrid catch-pole's claw. - - "But you, - Whom fortune's blest with splendid shilling worth, - Ne'er fears the monster's horrid faded brow, - Fed with the produce of blest Alb'on's isle, - With juice of Gallic and Hispernian - Fruits, that doe chearful make the heart of man, - Thus sink my muse into the deep abyss, - As low as Styx or Stygia's bottom is." - -"_N.B._"--wrote _The Student_ in italics at the foot of this wonderful -poem, "I have paid him." - -There is a certain amount of pathos underlying that delightful piece of -mock praise. The thought of the mercers, grocers, shoemakers, and the rest -honestly believing themselves to have attained to a most unusual degree of -learning, by reason of their propinquity to a university, and parading -their monumental ignorance under that belief, is a very painful one. It is -even more painful, looking to the fact that most tradesmen, connected in -any way with Academic Oxford, read _The Student_ regularly, to know that -the above stream of ridicule did not enlighten them as to the truth. - -Another man who had evidently had the dun put upon him, not once but many -times, by sulky tradesmen, received (so at least it is to be supposed) an -unexpected windfall with which he settled all outstanding debts. The -wonderful and unaccustomed feeling of showing a clean slate was so strong -that he was moved to an ecstasy of versification to relieve himself. - - "The man, who not a farthing owes, - Looks down with scornful eye on those - Who rise by fraud and cunning, - Tho' in the Pig-market he stand - With aspect grave and clear-starched band, - He fear's no tradesmen's dunning. - - "He passes by each shop in town, - Nor hides his face beneath his gown, - No dread his heart invading; - He quaffs the nectar of the Tuns - Or on a spur-gall'd hackney runs - To London, masquerading. - - "Place me on Scotland's bleakest hill, - Provided I can pay my bill, - Hang every thought of sorrow, - There falling sleet, or frost, or rain - Attack a soul resolv'd in vain; - It may be fair to-morrow." - -From the fact that the man in debt had to hide his head beneath his gown -in order to get past the shops safely or else to pursue the longer but -less risky method of slinking down back streets so as to avoid meeting -creditors, it is certain that the shopkeeper who had lost his patience, -and was intent on nothing but getting his money back, was looked upon as a -fearsome and dreaded creature. His war tactics, aided by free access to -his customer's rooms, consisted of serving writs freely--putting the dun -upon his victims. One way to evade the serving was to sport the oak and -remain in voluntary confinement. Such a method was not, however, popular -as there was no alternative but work to relieve the tedium of such -imprisonment. Another way was described in the diary of a modern Oxford -man in _The Loiterer_. This "modern" gentleman was slacking away the -boring hour after breakfast in the perusal of "Bartlett's Farriery" when -there came a tap at his door, and in strode a dun with an insolent smirk. -The Undergraduate politely explained that he was shortly expecting a very -healthy windfall from home, upon receipt of which he would immediately pay -what was owing. The dun received this news with cold disbelief and refused -to be put off. Upon being offered brandy he became "sulky," and refused -with a touch of irritation. Then the Undergraduate, enraged at such -insolence, rose in his wrath and kicked the fellow down stairs to stop him -from becoming more impertinent. - -The dun must have possessed a curious character. Knowing well the -propensities of Undergraduates, he did not, like a wise man, imbibe the -liquid refreshment so generously offered to him, and depart with the -knowledge that payment, for that day at least, was impossible. Instead, he -refused brandy and waited to be kicked out--without, apparently, having -served his writ. - -The question of advertising was in those days only in its infancy. The -tradesman patronised Jackson's _Oxford Journal_ to a certain extent. In it -are to be found curiously worded announcements of medicines, books, -cock-fights, curacies to be drunk or eaten for, dancing masters who were -exclusive to the peerage, election paragraphs, and public notices; while -advertisements for wives and husbands, or loans of money, were not -infrequent. One of the most up-to-date and cunning methods then practised -was for two rival tradesmen to get up a mock ink-slinging match in the -columns of some periodical, and week after week furiously to denounce each -other as cheats, tricksters, and knaves, the one saying that the other -sold inferior goods, and _vice versâ_. - -_The Loiterer_, prowling round incognito in search of copy for his next -issue, witnessed a "circumstance" as he calls it, connected with -advertisements, which is not unamusing. He was seated in his favourite -elbow chair in his usual corner at King's coffee-room, and had almost -despaired of picking up an idea, when he noticed a very reverend and -respectable gentleman who was apparently quite unknown to every one in the -room, and who seemed more engrossed in his own thoughts than amused by the -newspaper he was reading or the laughter and talk from the others in the -coffee-room. Suddenly, calling for his bill, he finished reading a -paragraph in the paper with upraised eyebrows and a note of horrified -surprise in his voice. "Upwards of forty thousand persons of both sexes! -Good God," he said, "what a state must the cities of London and -Westminster be in!" The elderly gentleman rose, and on his way out placed -the paper into _The Loiterer's_ hand. Every one in the room had heard his -remark and observed the manner of his exit. Immediately, therefore, there -was great excitement, every one wondering what amazing thing had happened -that could have escaped his notice while reading that very paper. _The -Loiterer_ began calmly to read solidly through column after column to find -this wonderfully exciting paragraph. While he was doing so a thin, -emaciated man "with a sallow and diseased countenance who, I have now -reason to believe was one of the forty thousand, stepped forward and -elucidated the mystery in a moment." - -He rapped out an oath and swore that the old gentleman had been meditating -on the advertisement of Leake's Justly Famous Pill. - -From this perturbing episode in the coffee-house _The Loiterer_ got the -idea of using his paper for the discussion of the peculiarities of -advertisement indulged in by tradesmen, local and otherwise. "I shall pass -over," he says, "the various wants of mankind, together with the pompous -Descriptions, the florid and luxuriant Language of Auctioneers which is -capable of converting a paltry Cottage into an elegant Villa. Nor shall I -dwell on a curious Phenomenon, a political Advertisement for the Sale of -Perfumery and the Dressing of Hair. But it is impossible with the same -indifference to pass over the ingenious Mr ---- who sells his Wines 'for -the [Greek: podas ôkys] of ready Money only, Wines in which neither the -eyes of Argus, nor the Taste of Epicurus, can discover the least -sophistication.' - -"One advertisement informs us, that Chimney pieces, another that -Candlesticks, are 'fashioned according to architectonic Models, and -agreeable to the affecting chastity of the Antique.' A third lets us know -how much we are obliged to the Legislature, 'that he is now enabled to -offer Pomatum to the public agreeable to the commercial Treaty'.... What -Lady, 'who excites admiration on account of the superior charms that -animate her Complexion,' can withstand an Advertisement of the Palmyrene -Soap? Every systematical old Fellow that wishes to know the exact number -of yards which he walks in a day, will certainly furnish himself with 'the -Pedometer, or Way-wiser.' And I make no manner of doubt that all the -Gentlemen Sportsmen of this University will find it impossible to resist -the persuasive nonsense and absurdity of 'Guns matchless for shooting; or -twisted barrels, bored on an improved plan, that will always maintain -their true velocity, and not let the Birds fly away after being shot, as -they generally do with Guns not properly bored, this method of boring Guns -will enable every Shooter to Kill his Bird, as they are sure of their mark -at ninety yards; he bores any sound Barrel for Two Guineas, and he makes -them much stronger than before.' If we take this Fellow's own word we must -allow him, without a pun, to be the greatest Borer in the kingdom." - -The system of "tick" seems to have been very simple. It was only necessary -to enter a shop and order things in large quantities for the tradesman to -allow credit. In the case of dirty Dick, who was lured into becoming a fop -by the report of the appreciative remarks which the lady Flavia was -supposed to have made about him, the only thing which had to be done to -gull the ever-obliging tradesman was to spread a rumour that the sloven -had come in for a legacy. The result was instantaneous, and Dick became a -Smart; but whether anybody was ever paid is not on record. The various -inns, ale-houses, coffee-houses and wig-makers had little need to -advertise. The Undergraduates did that for them. In nearly every poem and -sonnet that ever was written the praises are sung of Tom's or James's or -Clapham's or Lyne's or Hamilton's, while the great Tom Warton immortalises -three "Peruke-Makers" in his _Ode to a Grizzle-Wig_. - - "Can thus large wigs our Reverence engage? - Have Barbers thus the Pow'r to blind our Eyes? - Is Science thus conferr'd on every Sage, - By Bayliss, Blenkinsop, and lofty Wise?" - -While on the subject of innkeepers there is an example of the consummate -impudence of Terrae Filius which is most worthy of note. He compared the -Rev. Dr Newton, Principal of Hart Hall, to an innkeeper, in a letter upon -Dr Newton's book entitled "University Education." - -"Some persons it seems," wrote Amhurst, "have entertained a notion, that -your hall is no more than an inn, of which you are the host, and your -scholars the guests. I am sorry, sir, to say that there seems to be some -reason in this notion, however merrily you may please to treat it. For do -you not, like other innkeepers, get your living, and maintain your family -by letting lodgings, and keeping an ordinary for all comers? Are you not -licens'd for so doing, like other innkeepers and retalers of beer, though -by a different hand? Indeed, you sell logick and other sorts of learning, -as well as provisions for eating and drinking; but that cannot destroy the -character of an innkeeper, which you certainly are in all other respects, -but only proves that you deal in some particulars which your brethren of -the trade do not.... You have, no doubt, the same right, with other -innkeepers, to bring in a bill, and demand your reckoning, when you -please; which I do not hear that Mr Seaman, or any other of your guests -ever refused to pay; but I believe you are the only landlord in town who -would offer to detain his guests by force, after they had paid their -reckoning, and oblige them to spend more of their money in his house, -whether they will or not." - -All these subtle parallels were, of course, not intended as compliments. -To call a Head of a Hall an innkeeper is not exactly to take off one's hat -to him. But Amhurst forgot that in a previous chapter he made a proud -confession of his own humble origin. His discourse was of great men sprung -from small beginnings. - -"What," he asked, "was of old the famous Cardinal Wolsey but a butcher's -son?... Nay, to go no farther, even I myself, overgrown as I am in fame -and wealth, stiled by all unprejudiced and sensible persons the instructor -of mankind, and the reformer of the two universities, am by birth but an -humble plebeian, the younger son of an ale-house keeper in Wapping, who -was for several years in doubt which to make of me, a philosopher, or a -sailor: but at length birthright prevailing, I was sent to Oxford, scholar -of a college, and my elder brother a cabin boy to the West Indies." - -But why drag in Wolsey? - -In King Charles's letter against the women of the university of Cambridge -he banned the houses of all taverners, inn-holders or victuallers. It was -this class of tradesmen in Oxford who brought up their daughters as -toasts. This was the reason why a statute was passed "Prohibiting all -scholars, as well Graduates as Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to -frequent the houses and shops of any tradesmen by day, and especially by -night...." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr Newton on - tutor's fees--Dr Johnson's recommendation of Bateman--Public - lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham man's letter. - - -Just as the schoolmaster is considered the natural enemy of boys, so is -the Don popularly credited with being the natural enemy of the -Undergraduates. The originator of this wonderful theory is presumably the -lady novelist who, with no deeper knowledge of Oxford than that obtained -from a minute study of the coloured photographs in railway trains, has -pictured the Don in her vivid imagination to be a crusty, inhuman, and -gouty septuagenarian who, in the intervals of delivering abstruse -lectures, passes his days in sending men down and otherwise suppressing -all vitality and humanity. - -Anything more completely ridiculous it would be impossible to imagine. -Conceive a body of charming and delightful men, very kindly and -sympathetic, always ready to go out of their way to help a man in -financial or moral difficulties, cultured, intellectual, hard working, -thorough sportsmen in the best sense of that much abused word, full of -loyalty to their college and to the university, delighted by the athletic -or scholastic triumphs of the men with whom they are in close contact--and -then you do not obtain anything more than a true description of those men -who do so much to uphold the honour of the university, and who are -remembered with respect and even affection by the generations of -Undergraduates who pass through their hands. - -The eighteenth-century Don, on the contrary, was a person altogether -different. In the desire to bring out the light and shade of his -personality I am frustrated by the superabundance of the latter and the -minute quantity of the former. In dealing with the Georgian Don I have -taken each species separately: the Tutor, the Lecturer, the Examiner, the -Head of a college, and so forth. - -It appears that the old-time fresher, having been admitted to a college, -was at once recommended to a tutor whom he interviewed in his rooms. The -Hoxton man, who came up with his mother and his dad, found himself called -upon by his prospective tutor to sit down and make small work of several -quarts of liquid refreshment to the healths of various "traitors." Being -somewhat flurried at this boisterous reception, the lad was assured that -he did not come to the university to pray, and that in any case, he, the -tutor, would look after him like a father. Of being called upon to do any -work with him there was no whisper. Gibbon, on the other hand, on being -placed under the tutorship of Dr Waldegrave, was desired to attend that -gentleman's rooms each morning from ten to eleven and read the _Comedies -of Terence_. This he accordingly did, but with so little advantage to -himself that, after a few weeks, he quietly dropped away and saw his tutor -no more. To counterbalance the accusation of slackness against Dr -Waldegrave, Gibbon described him as having been a "learned and pious man -of a mild disposition, strict morals and abstemious life, who seldom -mingled in the politics or jollity of the college." This worthy man -departed from the precincts of Magdalen, and Gibbon had nothing good to -say for his successor. "The second tutor," wrote Gibbon, "whose literary -character did not command the respect of the college, well remembered that -he had a salary to receive, and only forgot that he had a duty to -perform.... Excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms during the titular -months of his office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same college as -strangers to each other." - -The vindicator of Magdalen leaped into the breach on behalf of the tutors -against Gibbon, and gave a hundred reasons why Gibbon was in the wrong. -But there are numberless other instances of utter laziness among that -section of the Don world. Malmesbury, for instance, related in his usual -cheery and optimistic manner, that his tutor, "an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practice of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to do trigonometry." This witness matriculated at -Merton thirteen years after Gibbon's time. - -Another example of bad tutorship may be quoted from William Fitzmaurice, -second Earl of Shelburne, who went up in 1753. "At sixteen, I went to -Christ Church, where I had again the misfortune to fall under a -narrow-minded tutor.... He was not without learning, and certainly laid -himself out to be serviceable to me in point of reading.... I came full of -prejudices. My tutor added to those prejudices by connecting me with the -anti-Westminsters, who were far from the most fashionable part of the -college, and a small minority."[24] - -In the light of these adverse criticisms it is interesting to note the -statutorial view as to the ideal tutor. According to Amhurst, who quoted -statute (_d_), it was ordained that "no person shall be a tutor who has -not taken a degree in some faculty, and is not (in the judgment in the -head of the college or hall to which he belongs) a man of approv'd -learning, probity and sincere religion." But can these requirements be -called sufficient if the hundreds of tutors against whom their pupils -flung accusations of slackness, drunkenness, and other hobbies, all -satisfied them? - -_The Loiterer_, evidently with this insufficent statute in mind, made some -very intelligent remarks _à propos_ of this question. "Scarce any office," -he wrote, "demands so many different requisites in those who would fill it -properly, as that of a college Tutor, and in none perhaps is propriety of -Choice so little attended to. The Tutor of a College goes off to a Living, -dies of an Apoplexy, or is otherwise provided for; a Successor must be -found; and as few who have better prospects chuse to undertake so -disagreeable an office, the Society is sometimes under the necessity of -appointing a person, who is no further qualified for it than by the -possession of a little classical, or mathematical information. With this -slender stock of knowledge, and without any acquaintance with the World or -any insight into Characters, He enters on his office with more Zeal than -Discretion, asserts his own opinions with arrogance and maintains them -with obstinacy, calls Contradiction, Contumacy, and Reply, Pertness, and -deals out his Jobations, Impositions, and Confinements, to every ill-fated -Junior who is daring enough to oppose his sentiments, or doubt his -opinions. The consequence of this is perfectly natural. He treats his -pupils as Boys and they think him a Brute. From that moment all his power -of doing good ceases; for we learn nothing from him, who has forfeited our -confidence. Such is the Portrait of what Tutors too often are, might I be -indulged in pointing out what they _should_ be, very different would be -the Character I should sketch. I would draw him modest in his disposition, -mild in his temper, gentle and insinuating in his address; scarce less a -man of the world than a man of letters. His Classic Knowledge (though far -above mediocrity) should be the least of his acquirements; General -Knowledge should be his forte, and the application of it to general -purposes his aim. He should not only improve those under his care in his -publick lectures, but should endeavour at least to direct them in their -private studies; he should encourage them to read, and should teach them -to read with taste." - -At this point _The Loiterer's_ friend interrupted and insisted that no man -was ever born to be a tutor if tutors must possess all the attributes -contained in that description. Upon this _The Loiterer_ said that he knew -only one man in the entire university who came up to the standard, and -that man was his own tutor. - -Gibbon made a scornful allusion to the salary of tutors. On this subject -Dr Newton penned a multitude of indignant sheets because a certain -Undergraduate, named Joseph Somaster, demanded permission to leave Hart -Hall and transfer himself to Balliol for the reason that he had an offer -of obtaining a tutor there who required no fees. With regard therefore to -tutors' fees, "it may be observed," wrote the reverend Doctor, "that the -University doth allow Tutors to Receive a consideration for their care of -the Youth entrusted to them; that, as this is very Reasonable in itself, -so hath it ever been the Practice of Tutors to Receive a Consideration for -such their care; that the consideration they have received, not being -limited by any Statute, hath varied, and is, at this day, different in -different Houses of Education within the University; that the tutor's -demand being known, and not objected to before a Scholar is enter'd under -his care, the same, upon entrance, becomes the consideration that is -agreed to be paid for his care. That the Labourer is worthy of his Hire; -that some Hire is both a better Encouragement to a Tutor, and a greater -obligation upon him to take a due care, than no Hire; that the greatest -Hire, of which any tutor in the University is, at this day thought worthy, -compar'd with the Expence he hath been at, and the Pains he hath taken, -and the Years he hath spent in order to Qualifie himself for this trust, -and also, with the further Labour and Time he must employ in discharging -it faithfully, is very small. That unless Learning be the very lowest of -all attainments, and the Education of Youth the very lowest of all -Professions, Thirty Shillings a Quarter, for near three times as many -Lectures, is not so extravagant a demand, as that he who pays it, should -do it with an unwilling hand. Much less that any one, who hath Himself -been a Tutor, and who hath experienc'd a faithful Tutor's trouble and -anxiety, should think it too much for any of his Fellow-Labourers in the -same Vocation, although their circumstances should be so affluent that -they need not any reward, or their Friendship so particular that they do -not desire it."[25] - -In the time of Dr Johnson the college tutors lectured in Hall as well as -in their own rooms, and, in addition, they set weekly themes for -composition--for the non-performance of which the fine was half a crown. -The day for giving in these themes was Saturday. George Whitefield, though -only a poor starveling servitor with scarce a penny to bless himself with, -was twice fined by his tutor because he failed to compose his theme. - -Christopher Wordsworth in his book on the universities in the eighteenth -centuries made it clear that when Dr Johnson was at Pembroke in 1728, -"Undergraduates generally depended entirely upon the Tutor to guide all -their reading. His first tutor Jordon was like a father to his pupils, but -he was intellectually incompetent for his important position. For this -reason Johnson recommended his old schoolfellow Taylor to go to Christ -Church on account of the excellent lectures of Bateman then tutor there." -In Johnson's own words in reference to Mr Jordon, "He was a very worthy -man, but a heavy man, and I did not profit much by his instructions. -Indeed, I did not attend him much. The first day after I came to college, -I waited upon him, and then staid away four. On the sixth, Mr Jordon -asked me why I had not attended. I answered, I had been sliding in -Christchurch meadow. And this I said with as much non-chalance as I am now -talking to you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my -tutor." To this self accusation Boswell replied, "That, Sir, was great -fortitude of mind!" "No, Sir," snapped Johnson, "stark insensibility."[26] - -It is unnecessary to arraign further damning evidence against the Georgian -tutor. He stands convicted on the cases which I have related. Were I -called upon indeed to summon other witnesses for the prosecution, I have -but to turn to any eighteenth-century authority. No one has a word to say -in his favour. By every one he is pronounced to be an idle, -self-indulgent, dishonest, utterly unintellectual creature, conspicuously -lacking in "learning, probity, and sincere religion." - -The next division of the genus Don is the public lecturer, in regard to -whom there are, so Amhurst informed us, a number of statutes concerning -the public lecturers in all faculties: appointing, with the utmost -exactness, where they shall read, when they shall read, what they shall -read, how they shall read, and to whom they shall read. "All these (as I -have frequently observed) are almost totally neglected; out of twenty -public lectures, not above three or four being observed at all, and they -not statutably observed: for the auditors, who belong to the same college -with the lecturer in any faculty, do not wait upon him to the school, -where he reads, and back again, as they ought to do; so far from it, that -not one in ten goes to hear these lectures, nor do they (who do attend) -take down what they hear in writing; neither do they (I believe) -diligently read over the same author at home, which the public professor -undertook to explain; nor are persons punished (as the statutes require) -for any of these omissions." Even if it be admitted that three or four is -an exaggeratedly low estimate of the number of these lectures, and that -the "auditors" are just as lazy as the men who deliver them, yet it is not -to be wondered at that the Undergraduates did not read over the authors, -or write down what they heard. All the lectures were delivered by Dons who -knew next to nothing about their subject, and they were in consequence -very tedious and worthless affairs. - -The lectureships were bestowed "upon such as are utterly and notoriously -ignorant of them, and never made them their study in their lives. They are -given away, as pensions and sinecures, to any body that can make a good -interest for them, without any respect to his abilities or character in -general, or to what faculty in particular he has apply'd his mind. I have -known a profligate _debauchee_ chosen professor of moral philosophy; and a -fellow, who never look'd upon the stars soberly in his life, professor of -astronomy; we have had history professors, who never read anything to -qualify them for it, but Tom Thumb, Jack the Giant-killer, Don Belicanis -of Greece, and such like valuable records; we have had likewise numberless -professors of Greek, Hebrew and Arabick, who scarce understood their -mother tongue; and, not long ago, a famous gamester and stock-jobber was -elected to M--g--t, professor of divinity; so great it seems is the -analogy between dusting of cushions, and shaking of elbows, or between -squand'ring away of estates, and saving of souls!" - -[Illustration: A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD.] - -Terrae Filius was moved to the above denunciations and reminiscences of -lecturers, who, he said, were elected perhaps on the principle that "he -can do no mischief; ergo, he shall be our man," by the receipt of a -letter from a Wadham man who recounted his own personal experiences of -lecturers and their ways. It runs thus:-- - - "WADHAM COLLEGE, _Jan. 22, 1720_. - - "_To the Author of Terrae Filius._ - - "SIR,--I hope you intend to acquaint the world, amongst other abuses - in what manner the pious designs of those good men, who left us all - our publick lectures, are answered. Yesterday morning at nine a clock - the bell went as usually for a lecture; whether a rhetorical or - logical one, I cannot tell; but I went to the schools, big with hopes - of being instructed in one or the other, and having saunter'd a pretty - while along the quadrangle, impatient of the lecturer's delay, I ask'd - the major (who is an officer belonging to the schools) whether it was - usual now and then to slip a lecture or so: his answer was that he had - not seen the face of any lecturer in any faculty, except in poetry and - musick, for three years past; that all lectures besides were entirely - neglected.... Every morning in term time there ought to be a divinity - lecture in the divinity school; two gentlemen of our house went one - day to hear what the learned professor had to say upon that subject: - these two were join'd by another master of arts, who without arrogance - might think that they understood divinity enough to be his auditors; - and that consequently his lecture would not have been lost upon them: - but the doctor thought otherwise, who came at last, and was very much - surprized to find that there was an audience. He took two or three - turns about the school, and then said, 'Magistri vos non estis idonei - auditores; praeterea, juxta legis doctorem Boucher, tres non faciunt - collegium--valete;' and so went away. Now it is monstrous, that - notwithstanding these publick lectures are so much neglected, we are, - all of us, when we take our degrees, charg'd with and punish'd for - non-appearance at the reading of many of them; a formal dispensation - is read by our respective deans, at the time our grace is proposed, - for our non-appearance at these lectures, and it is with difficulty - that some grave ones of the congregation are induced to grant it. - Strange order! that each lecturer should have his fifty, his hundred, - or two hundred pounds a year for doing nothing, and that we (the young - fry) should be obliged to pay money for not hearing such lectures as - were never read, nor ever composed...." - -In the face of personal experience of this kind how is it possible to -believe that to obtain a degree was anything but a question of independent -work or the judicious administration of "pourboires"? To attend at the -right hour for a lecture which was never read, to be fined for -non-attendance, and finally to have great difficulty in persuading the -authorities to sign the necessary dispensation is a Gilbertian absurdity. -No other instance more striking than this letter can be found in all the -eighteenth-century chronicles of the attitude of Dons towards the -Undergraduates in their charge. Once certain of their annual stipend their -duties went by the board; and the Dons, whether lecturers or Heads of -colleges, whether they knew each other personally or not, banded together -to ensure their own safety, and signed to a lie in regard to the -delivering of lectures with the utmost unconcern. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining--College - Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the Magdalen Dons--Heads - of colleges--Their domestic and public character--Golgotha and Ben - Numps--St John's Head pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and - Randolph. - - -After the lecture comes the examination, so the examiner shall be the next -in line. Now the examiners were appointed by the senior Proctor, who -administered to them the following oath: "That they will either examine, -or hear examined, all candidates that fall to their lot, in those arts and -sciences, and in such manner as the statute requires. Likewise that they -will not be prevailed upon by entreaties, or bribes, or hatred or -friendship, or hope or fear, to grant any one a _testimonium_, who does -not deserve it, or to deny it to any one that does." The examiners were, -however, in the same parlous condition as the lecturers and tutors. - -The most mild of all the adverse criticisms was that of Henry Fynes -Cliton, who was at the House in 1799. He said that the examiners -discouraged Undergraduates from making a wide choice of authors for their -schools, and that if any one anxious for first-class honours took an -author not included in the abbreviated list as given out by them, they -would find a way to stop him from obtaining the coveted class. - -This entirely bears out the statement of Amhurst, who said that the -examiners were entirely ignorant of the subjects in which they examined, -and that the whole system was a farce and a scandal. - -"How well the examiners perform their duty," he wrote with almost -apathetic resignation, "I leave to God and their own consciences; tho' my -shallow apprehension cannot reconcile their taking a solemn oath, that -they will not be prevail'd upon by entreaties or bribes, or friendship, -etc., with their actually receiving bribes, and frequently granting -_testimoniums_ to unworthy candidates, out of personal friendship and -bottle acquaintance. It is a notorious truth, that most candidates get -leave of the proctor, by paying his man a crown (which is called his -perquisite) to choose their own examiners, who never fail to be their old -cronies and toping companions. The question therefore is, whether it may -not be strongly presumed from hence, that the candidates expect more -favour from these men, than from strangers; because otherwise it would be -throwing away a crown to no purpose; and if they do meet with a favour -from them, _quaere_ whether the examiner is not prevail'd upon by -intreaties or friendship." - -Another method of procedure then very popular was for the examiner to -receive "a piece of gold" or an "handsome entertainment" from each of the -candidates, or else to be made drunk by him the night before the -examination. The candidate took care to provide sufficient drink to keep -his man occupied busily till morning, and then they adjourned, "cheek by -joul," from their drinking room to the school. "_Quaere_" demanded Terrae -Filius again, "whether it would not be very ungrateful of the examiner to -refuse any candidate a _testimonium_, who has treated him so splendidly -over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail'd upon by -bribes?" - -Vicesimus Knox of St John's made very much the same statements about the -examiners, and added that during the time when they were closeted with the -candidates in the schools they did nothing but discuss the latest drinking -bout (which took place the night before), or talk horses, or read -newspapers and novels till the clock struck eleven--when they all -descended, and the _testimonium_ was signed without a twinge of -conscience. - -But college Fellowship was, perhaps, one of the most abused offices in -existence. Once nominated to a Fellowship, however unfit to occupy the -position, a Don was settled for life. He had a fixed income, did no work, -and worried about nothing but to retain his own particular corner chair at -the King's Head tavern or elsewhere. He stagnated for the rest of his -natural life, and became gross by dint of perpetual drinking. On the sad -subject of college Fellows T. J. Hogg, writing of Shelley at Oxford, told -us that at the end of the eighteenth century, - -"If a few gentlemen were admitted to Fellowships, they were always absent; -they were not persons of literary pretensions, or distinguished by -scholarship; and they had no more share in the government of the college -than the overgrown guardsman.... - -"A total neglect of all learning, an unseemly turbulence, the most -monstrous irregularities, open and habitual drunkenness, vice, and -violence, were tolerated or encouraged, with the basest sycophancy, that -the prospect of perpetual licentiousness might fill the colleges with -young men of fortune; whenever the rarely exercised power of coercion was -exerted, it demonstrated the utter incapacity of our unworthy rulers by -coarseness, ignorance, and injustice." - -Terrae Filius devoted one chapter, peculiarly conspicuous for its lack of -satirical venom, to the dissection of Fellows. His article was occasioned -by a report in all the papers of the death of Dr Pudsey, one of the senior -Fellows of "Maudlin College (who) died there last week aged near an -hundred years." "This," said Amhurst, "gives me an opportunity of -discoursing upon what I have always thought one great error in the -constitution of most colleges; which I will do with only this preface, -that I hope no body will think I design, in what I shall say, to reflect -on the deceas'd old gentleman before mention'd. The original design of -endowing colleges was undoubtedly this, to support such persons as could -not bear the charges of a learned education themselves, till they were -able to shift in the world, and become serviceable to their country; for -this reason all scholars and fellows (of most colleges at least) are -obliged to take an oath, that they are not worth so much per annum _de -proprio_, in some colleges more, and in some less; but in all colleges the -meaning of the oath is the same, that no person shall benefit of the -foundation who can live without it; but this oath, like other oaths, is -commented away, and interpreted so loosely, that, at present it does not -exclude persons of four or five hundred pounds a year.... When any person -is chosen fellow of a college, he immediately becomes a freeholder, and is -settled for life in ease and plenty; provided only that he conforms -himself to the ceremonies and caprices of the place, which very few will -stick at, who delight in such an indolent and recluse state; at first, -indeed, he is obliged to perform some insignificant, superficial -exercises, and to get a few questions and answers in the sciences by rote, -to qualify him for his degrees; but when these are obtain'd, he wastes the -rest of his days in luxury and idleness; he enjoys himself, and is dead to -the world; for a senior fellow of a college lives and moulders away in a -supine and regular course of eating, drinking, sleeping, and cheating the -juniors.... In many colleges the fellowships are so considerable, that no -preferment can tempt some persons to leave them; they prefer this -monastic, and (as they call it) retired life to any employment, in which -they would be obliged to take some pains, and do some good." - -Such remarks from the mouth of Terrae Filius are indeed quiet, but -however lacking in sparkle, they are filled with the truth. Turn where we -may, on every hand, the Fellows of colleges are written down and left -without one saving quality. - -The state of Magdalen, as related by Gibbon, was no better and no worse -than that of any other college. "The fellows or monks of my time," -according to him, "were decent, easy men, who supinely enjoyed the gifts -of the founder; their days were filled by a series of uniform employments; -the chapel and the hall, the coffee-house and the common room, till they -retired, weary and well satisfied, to a long slumber. From the toil of -reading, or thinking, or writing, they had absolved their conscience; and -the first shoots of learning and ingenuity withered on the ground, without -yielding any fruits to the owners or the public. As a gentleman commoner, -I was admitted to the society of the fellows, and fondly expected that -some questions of literature would be the amusing and instructive topics -of their discourse. Their conversation stagnated in a round of college -business, Tory politics, personal anecdotes, and private scandal; their -dull and deep potations excused the brisk intemperance of youth; and their -constitutional toasts were not expressive of the most lively loyalty for -the house of Hanover.... The example of the senior fellows could not -inspire the undergraduates with a liberal spirit or studious -emulation."[27] - -The common room, with its accompaniments of tobacco and liquor, formed the -scene in which the greater portion of their parts was acted by the -Fellows; for the rest, the taverns and coffee-houses, where the meetings -of jovial societies, of which they were members, were held. By way of -exercise, an occasional horse ride; nothing more. Their other chief hobby -was, in the language of the time, "wenching." Amazingly enough, they -still had sufficient energy, after living such a life, to array themselves -in all their glory, and sally forth to pay homage at the feet of the toast -of the day. In their attempts to cut out the Smarts in the affections of -the reigning queen, Merton Wall and Paradise Gardens saw them daily. -_Liaisons_ with their neighbour's wives, bedmakers, and bedmaker's -daughters were everyday occurrences; so openly, indeed, were these things -done, that songs were composed in various clubs of the doings of certain -Fellows mentioned by name, and satirical poems were written about them; -but there the matter ended. - -The character of a Head of a college, taken "in a more private view, -amongst their fellows in their respective colleges," was thus delineated -by Amhurst. "A director or scull of a college is a lordly strutting -creature, who thinks all beneath him created to gratify his ambition and -exalt his glory; he commands their homage by using them very ill; and -thinks the best way to gain their admiration is to pinch their bellies and -call them names, as the most tyrannical princes have always the most loyal -subjects; he is very vicious and immoral himself, and therefore will not -pardon the least trip or miscarriage in another; he is a great profligate, -and consequently a great disciplinarian; he petrifies in fraud and -shamelessness, and is never properly in his element but when he is either -committing wickedness himself, or punishing the commission of it in -others." So much for his domestic character. In the exercise of his public -functions he was one of a gang who "have as persidiously broken as great a -trust reposed in them by the Government, the nobility, gentry, and -commonality of England; that, under pretence of advancing national -religion and learning, they have introduced national irreligion and -ignorance; and instead of promoting loyalty and peace have encouraged -treason and disturbance; that they have debauched the principles of youth -instead of reforming them; that they have been guilty of wicked and -infamous practices of all sorts; ought they not, likewise, to be punish'd -in the most rigorous manner?" - -Amhurst found this a very sore subject, for, later on, he bore out the -theory of the promotion of ignorance, and said that they did their utmost -to prevent learning. "Whatever portion of commonsense they possess -themselves, they take especial care to keep it from those under their -tuition, having innumerable large volumes by them, written on purpose to -obscure the understanding of their pupils, and to obliterate or confound -all those impressions of right or wrong which they bring with them to the -universities; their several systems of logic, metaphysics, ethics, and -divinity are calculated for this design, being fill'd up with inconsistent -notions, dark cloudy terms, and unintelligible definitions, which tend not -to instruct, but to perplex, to put out the light of reason, not to assist -or strengthen it; and to palliate falsehood, not to discover truth." - -As further evidence of the amazing egoism and brutality of "Sculls," it is -worth while to quote the story of a Head of Balliol who held office in -these times. "A young fellow of Balliol College having, upon some -discontent, cut his throat very dangerously, the master of the college -sent his servitor to the buttery book to sconce (that is, fine) him five -shillings, and, says the doctor, tell him that the next time he cuts his -throat I'll sconce him ten!" - -Whenever there was important academical business afoot the Vice-Chancellor -and Sculls met in solemn conclave in Golgotha, the state room in the -Clarendon building. The room was handsomely decorated and wainscotted. The -wainscot was said to have been put up by order of a man of humour who went -up to Oxford for a degree without "any claim or recommendation." He -promised, however, in exchange for the degree to become a benefactor of -the university. The Sculls thereupon hurriedly engaged workmen who began -running up the wainscot, and they "clapp'd a degree upon his back." But as -soon as the degree had been granted, the benefactor disappeared, and the -Sculls were left to pay the workmen with money out of their own -pockets--which, of course, had been previously plundered from the -university. - -It was in this room that all the weighty business of the university was -conducted. In the amusing words of Amhurst, "if any sermon is preach'd, if -any public speech or oration is deliver'd in derogation of the church, or -the university, or in vindication of the Protestant succession, or the -Bishop of Bangor, hither the delinquent is summon'd to answer for his -offence, and receive condign punishment. In short, all matters of -importance are cognisable before this tribunal: I will instance only one, -but that very remarkable. A day or two before the late Queen died, a -letter was brought to the post-office at Oxford, with these words upon the -outside of it, _we hear the queen is dead_; which, being suspected to -contain something equally mischievous within, was stopt, and carried to -the Vice-Chancellor, who immediately summon'd his brethren to meet him at -Golgotha about a matter of the utmost consequence: when they were -assembled together he produced the letter before them; and having open'd -it, read the contents of it in an audible voice; which were as follow:-- - - "'ST JOHN'S COLLEGE, _July 30, 1714_. - - "'HONOURED MOTHER,--I receaved the Cheshear chease you sent ma by - Roben Joulthead, our waggoner, and itt is a vary gud one, and I thanck - you for itt, mother, with all my hart and soale, and I promis to be a - gud boy, and mind my boock, as yow dezired ma. I am a rising lad, - mother, and have gott prefarment in college allready; for our sextoun - beeing gonn intoo Heryfoordshear to see his frends, he has left mee - his depoty, which is a vary good pleace. I have nothing to complayne - off, onely that John Fulkes the tailor scores me upp a penny strong a - moost everyday; but I'll put a stopp to it shortly, I worrant ye: I - beleave I shall do vary well, if you wull but send me t'other crowne; - for I have spent all my mony at my fresh treat (as they caul itt) - which is an abominable ecstortion, but I coud not help itt; when I cum - intoo the country, I'le tell you all how it is. So no more att this - present: but my sairvice to our parson, and my love to brother Nick - and sister Kate; and so I rest.--Your ever dutiful and obedient son, - - "'BENJAMIN NUMPS.' - -"When he had done reading, the Sculls look'd very gravely upon one another -for some time, till at length Dr Faustus, late of New college, got up and -spoke to them in the following manner:-- - - "'GENTLEMEN,--The words of this letter are so very plain and - intelligible in themselves, that I wish there is no latent and - mysterious meaning in them. How do we know what he means by the - cheese, which he thanks his mother for? or how do we know that he - means nothing else by it, but a cheese? Then, he desires his mother to - send him t'other crown; now what, I conjure you all tell me, can he - mean by that other crown but the elector of Hanover; especially as he - tells us on the outside of his letter that the _queen is dead_? These - rebels and roundheads are very fly in everything they do; they know we - have a strict eye over them; and therefore if this Benjamin Numps - should be one of them, and have any such ill designs in his head, to - be sure, if he expected to succeed, he would not express himself to be - understood. So that, with all submission to my reverend brethren, I - think that we ought to sift this matter thoroughly, for fear of the - worst;' and sat down." - -A gentleman referred to as Father William then rose to reply. The grave Dr -Faustus did not overawe him as he overawed the rest. Father William, in -scathingly sarcastic language, told him that he was a fool, a John o' -dreams, always suspecting mischief where none was meant. "Who but you," he -said, "would ever have suspected treason in a Cheshire cheese?" The man -Numps, he explained to the reverend Sculls, was simply a poor servitor but -lately entered into his own college, who had not the brains necessary to -think out any plot. Therefore the fellow was sent for. He entered, -trembling in every limb at the sight of all these learned authorities -sitting in solemn conclave, and acknowledged his fault "full of sorrow and -contrition," and humbly asked their pardon. - - * * * * * - -Such was the characteristic manner in which the Heads ruled the -university, and the above incident is a typical instance of the weighty -business which arose from day to day. They were the counterpart of the -Pharisees, who strained at gnats and swallowed camels. In connection with -the headship of St John's College there existed a rather curious custom. -The Don elected to the Presidentship led the whole college, arrayed in -fullest academical garb, down to Christ Church, where they did homage. -Dibdin related that when Dr Marlowe succeeded to the President's Chair of -St John's College they were received at the "House" by Dr Cyril Jackson, -then Dean of Christ Church. After the performance of what Dibdin calls a -"humbling piece of vassalage" which was conducted with great pomp and -formality, the members of St John's returned, and were duly regaled with a -sumptuous repast by the newly-elected President who went to the various -common rooms--the masters by themselves, the bachelors by themselves, and -the scholars and commoners each in their particular banqueting room. There -he drank wine with them, and was loudly toasted. "I remember one forward -freshman," said Dibdin, "shouting aloud on this memorable occasion as the -new President retreated-- - - "'Nunc est bibendum; nunc pede libero - Pulsanda tellus!' - -"The stars of midnight twinkled upon our orgies; but this was a day never -to come again. Dr Marlowe sat for thirty-three years in the Presidental -Chair."[28] - -Having read accounts of all the pompous, evil-living and unpopular Heads -for whom nobody had a good word, it is refreshing to come across records -of thoroughly-liked men like Dr Marlowe of St John's and Dr Randolph of -Corpus, of whom R. L. Edgeworth sang the praises. "Dr Randolph," he said, -"was at that time (1761) president of Corpus Christi College. With great -learning, and many excellent qualities, he had some singularities, which -produced nothing more injurious from his friends than a smile. He had the -habit of muttering upon the most trivial occasions, _mors omnibus -communis!_ One day his horse stumbled upon Maudlin bridge, and the -resigned president let his bridle go, and drawing up the waistband of his -breeches as he sat bolt upright, he exclaimed before a crowded audience, -_mors omnibus communis!_ The same simplicity of character appeared in -various instances, and it was mixed with a mildness of temper, that made -him generally beloved by the young students. The worthy doctor was -indulgent to us all, but to me in particular upon one occasion, where I -fear that I tried his temper more than I ought to have done. The gentlemen -commoners were not obliged to attend chapel on any days but Sunday and -Thursday; I had been too frequently absent, and the president was -determined to rebuke me before my companions. 'Sir,' said he to me as we -came out of chapel one Sunday, 'you _never_ attend Thursday prayers!' 'I -do _sometimes_, sir,' I replied. 'I did not see you last Thursday. And, -sir,' cried the president, rising into anger, 'I will have nobody in my -college' (ejaculating a certain customary noise, something between a cough -and the sound of a postman's horn), 'sir, I will have nobody in my college -that does not attend chapel. I did not see you at chapel last Thursday.' -'Mr President,' said I, with a most profound reverence, 'it was impossible -that you should see me, for you were not there yourself.' Instead of being -more exasperated by my answer, the anger of the good old man fell -immediately. He recollected and instantly acknowledged, that he had not -been in chapel on that day. It was the only Thursday on which he had been -absent for three years. Turning to me with great suavity, he invited me to -drink tea that evening with him and his daughter. This indulgent -president's good humour made more salutary impression on the young men he -governed than has ever been effected by the morose manners of any -unrelenting disciplinarian."[29] - -Dr Randolph, Dr Marlowe, and the tutor of _The Loiterer_ are the only -three men whom I have been able to discover whose integrity was beyond -question. Three out of a whole century of Dons explains many things! It -proves the truth of the grave charges of vice, irreligion and perpetual -sloth brought against the Dons of the century, by every writer of the -time. It explains the bad government of colleges, general licentiousness, -and scholastic negligence which were the main characteristics of Georgian -Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of a - degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from Black - Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Izaak Walton and the senior - Proctor--Amhurst's character sketch of a certain Proctor. - - -The Proctor and his bull-dogs (entailing sudden scuttlings down side -streets, which, if abortive, lead to the nine o'clock string outside that -gentleman's door, and the unwilling disbursement of goodly sums--the fine -for being out of college at an unstatutable hour was 40s.!--because -forsooth, a man had the misfortune to cross his path without being arrayed -in statutable garb), loomed darkly on the eighteenth-century skyline. -Wrapped in the safe embrace of trencher and gown it was possible to watch -the great Proctors - - "... march in state - With velvet sleeves and scarlet gown, - Some with white wigs so hugely grown - They seem to ape in some degree - The dome of Radcliffe's Library." - -It was the redoubtable senior Proctor who was the guardian of the Black -Book, the register of the university, in which he recorded the name of any -person who affronted him or the university. The mere inscription of a name -in the Proctor's book may not seem a very fearful punishment, but it takes -on a darker aspect when it is discovered that no person so recorded might -proceed to his degree till he had given satisfaction to the Proctor who -had put him in. Amhurst explained that the Black Book into which the -Proctors put anybody "at whom, whether justly or not, they shall take -offence ... was at first design'd to punish refractory persons and immoral -offenders; but at present it is made use of to vent party spleen and is -fill'd up with whigs, constitutioners, and bangorians. So long as the -university has this rod in her hand, it is no wonder that high-church -triumphs over her most powerful adversaries; nor can we be at all -surpriz'd that Whiggism declines with the constitution club in Oxford, -when we behold people stigmatiz'd in the Black Book, and excluded from -their degrees for soberly rejoicing upon King George's birthnight, and -drinking his majesty's health." - -The question of making satisfaction to the Proctor who had inscribed a -name in that "dreadful and gloomy volume" was, in many cases at least, a -difficult and lengthy proceeding. The Merton Undergraduate, Meadowcourt, -who, as Steward of the Constitution Club, prevailed upon the Proctor to -join in drinking King George's health, was prevented for two years from -taking his degree. The "binge" was a quite considerable affair. Party -feeling ran high, and the Charles II. partisans gathered in their hundreds -outside the tavern in which the Constitutioners had foregathered. Amid -booing and hissing, they threw lighted squibs in at the windows. In a -subsequent interview with Mr Holt, the Proctor, Meadowcourt, having -apologised, learned that as far as Holt was concerned he had nothing -further to fear, but that Holt's brother Proctor, Mr White of Christ -Church, was vastly incensed, and had desired that "the power of taking -cognisance of, and proceeding against all that was done that night, might -be placed in his hands." To this Holt had agreed. Consequently Meadowcourt -found himself compelled to seek out Mr White. The interview was short and -stormy, the Proctor being in "an ungovernable passion, insomuch that he -often brandished his arm at him." - -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE.] - -Out of the doings of that adventurous, amusing and wholly reprehensible -evening the proctor White concocted the following charges which were duly -recorded in the Black Book, in all their pompous length:-- - - "_June 28th, 1716._ - - "Let Mr Carty of university College be kept from his degree, for which - he stands next, for the space of one whole year. - - "1. For prophaning, with mad intemperance, that day, on which he - ought, with sober chearfulness, to have commemorated the restoration - of King Charles the second and the royal family, nay, of monarchy - itself, and the church itself. - - "2. For drinking in company with those persons, who insolently boast - of their loyalty to King George, and endeavour to render almost all - the university, besides themselves, suspected of dissaffection. - - "3. For calling together a great mob of people, as if to see a shew, - and drinking impious execrations, out of the tavern window, against - several worthy persons, who are the best friends to the church and the - king; by this means provoking the beholders to return them the same - abuses; from whence followed a detestable breach of the peace. - - "4. For refusing to go home to his college after nine o'clock at - night, though he was more than once commanded to do it, by the junior - proctor, who came thither to quell the riot. - - "5. For being catch'd at the same place again by the senior proctor, - and pretending, as he was admonish'd by him, to go home; but with a - design to drink again. - - "Let Mr Meadowcourt of Merton College be kept back from the degree - which he stands for next, for the space of two years; nor be admitted - to supplicate for his grace, until he confesses his manifold crimes, - and asks pardon upon his knees. - - "Not only for being an accomplice with Mr Carty in all his faults (or - rather crimes), but also, - - "7. For being not only a companion, but likewise a remarkable abetter - of certain officers, who ran up and down the High Street with their - swords drawn, to the great terror of the townsmen and scholars. - - "8. For breaking out to that degree of impudence (when the proctor - admonish'd him to go home from the tavern at an unseasonable hour) as - to command all the company with a loud voice, to drink King George's - health. - - "JOH. W., _proc-jun._" - -In spite of the many entreaties on his behalf made by several -distinguished persons ("amongst whom were a most noble duke and a -marquis") Meadowcourt was unable to obtain the remission of his sentence, -and was compelled to wait the full two years before he could proceed to -his degree. At the end of that time both the proctors concerned had -retired, and the Merton man, upon applying to the proctor then in office, -was informed that nothing could be done until both Holt and White had been -consulted. The unfortunate man went from one to the other for weeks. They -"bandied it about, sending Mr Meadowcourt upon sleeveless errands," till, -at last, having jumbled their learned noddles together, they sent him a -paper containing the following articles, which they insisted should be -read by Mr Meadowcourt publicly in the Convocation House, before he might -proceed to his degree. - - "1. I do acknowledge all the crimes laid to my charge in the Black - Book, and that I deserved the punishment imposed on me. - - "2. I do acknowledge that the story of my being punish'd on account of - affection to King George, and his illustrious house, is unjust and - injurious, not only to the reputation of the proctor, but of the whole - university. - - "3. I do profess sincerely, that I do not believe that I was punish'd - on that account. - - "4. I am very thankful for the clemency of the university, in - remitting the ignominious part of the punishment, viz., begging pardon - on my knees. - - "5. I beg pardon of Almighty God, of the proctor, and all the masters, - for the offences which I have committed respectively against them; and - I promise that I will, by my future behaviour, make the best amends I - can, for having offended by the worst of examples." - -Having fought the almighty proctors thus far Meadowcourt was not, however, -the man to give in to such an absurdly overwhelming piece of indignity as -that proposed. He refused to read the paper, resolving rather to go -without his degree. He was advised, however, to plead the Act of Grace, -which he did after many further checks and delays. He emerged finally from -the unequal conflict with victory and a degree. This case I think amply -justifies Amhurst's assertion that the Black Book was used as a weapon -with which the proctors paid off personal insults and old scores, and the -injustice and abuse of the great power which they knew so cunningly how to -wield is only too apparent. - -The proctors, naturally enough, were vastly unpopular men and, supposedly, -realising this, did not go one iota out of their way to decrease the -general dislike attaching to them, but rather consoled themselves by -piling on the pains and penalties at every opportunity. The gownsmen were -not the only people who had a rooted objection to them on principle. Even -the townees and tradesmen regarded them with an unfriendly eye, and gave -them no assistance in the detection of Undergraduate delinquents. In -illustration of the light in which they were held by the townspeople -Amhurst related an amusing story. - -"A man who liv'd just by a pound in Oxford and kept an ale house put upon -his sign these words '_Ale sold here by the Pound_,' which seduced a great -many young students to go thither out of curiosity to buy liquor, as they -thought, by weight; hearing of which, the vice-chancellor sent for the -landlord to punish him according to statute, which prohibits all ale house -keepers to receive scholars into their houses; but the fellow, being -apprehensive what he was sent for, as soon as he came into the -vice-chancellor's lodgings, fell a spitting and a spawling about the room; -upon which the vice-chancellor ask'd him in an angry tone, what he meant -by that? - -"'Sir,' says the fellow, 'I am come to clear myself.' - -"'Clear yourself, sirrah!' says the vice-chancellor; 'but I expect that -you should clear yourself in another manner; they say you sell ale by the -pound.' - -"'No, indeed, Mr Vice-chancellor,' replies the fellow, 'I don't.' - -"'Don't you,' says the Vice-chancellor again, 'how do you then?' - -"'Very well,' replies he, 'I humbly thank you, Mr Vice-chancellor; pray -how do you, sir?' - -"'Get you gone,' says the vice-chancellor, 'for a rascal'; and turned him -downstairs. - -"Away went the fellow and meeting with one of the proctors, told him that -the vice-chancellor desired to speak with him immediately; the proctor in -great haste went to know the vice-chancellor's commands, and the fellow -with him, who told the vice-chancellor, when they came before him, that -here he was. - -"'Here he is!' says the vice-chancellor, 'who is here?' - -"'Sir,' says the impudent alehouse-keeper, 'you bad me go for a Rascal; -and lo! here I have brought you one.'" - -The proctors had the appointment of the examiners, and once now and again -they paid a surprise visit in their official capacity to the schools, when -the examinations (such as they were) were in progress. This was, however, -a "rare and uncommon occurrence." When prowling the streets in search of -whom they might devour their method was to search the coffee-houses and -smart establishments and give impositions to the "Bucks in boots" upon -whom they pounced. They left the ale-houses alone, or, in Tom Warton's -words:-- - - "Nor Proctor thrice with vocal Heel alarms - Our Joys secure, nor deigns the lowly Roof - Of Pot-house snug to visit: wiser he - The splendid Tavern haunts, or Coffee-house...." - -Izaak Walton described the senior proctor in 1616 as one who "did not use -his power of punishing to an extremity; but did usually take their names, -and a promise to appear before him unsent for next morning: and when they -did convinced them with such obligingness, and reason added to it, that -they parted from him with such resolutions as the man after God's own -heart was possessed with, when he said to God, There is mercy with thee, -and therefore thou shalt be feared (Psal. cxxx.). And by this, and a like -behaviour to all men, he was so happy as to lay down this dangerous -employment, as but few, if any have done, even without an enemy." - -The proctorship was therefore a difficult post to fill even a full century -before Amhurst was born to set down in black and white the iniquities of -his own time. Izaak Walton's proctor was the exception; Amhurst's seems -to have been the rule, and his character is given by Terrae Filius as -follows:-- - -"... of Christ Church, a tool that was form'd by nature for vile and -villainous purposes, being advanced to the proctorship, publickly -declar'd, that no constitutioner should take a degree whilst he was in -power. This corrupt and infamous magistrate had formerly been under cure -for lunacy, and was now very far relaps'd into the same distemper. He was -naturally the most proud and insolent tyrant to his betters, who were -below him in the university; but to those above him the most mean and -creeping slave. He was peevish, passionate, and revengeful; loose and -profligate in his morals, though seemingly rigid and severe. In publick, a -serious and solemn hypocrite; in private, a ridiculous and lewd buffoon. -An impudent pretender to sanctity and conscience, which he always us'd as -a cloak for the most unjust and criminal actions. In short, he was so -worthless and despicable a fellow, and had so scandalously overacted his -part in his extravagant zeal against the constitution club, that at the -expiration of his proctorship, when he appear'd as candidate for the -professorship of history, there were not above ten persons, besides the -members of his own college who voted for him." - -The anonymity of the blank space in front of the man's college is not -sufficient to conceal the fact that this character sketch, a bitter and -pointed attack, was most probably meant for the Mr White who distinguished -himself in the Meadowcourt case. As, however, from many instances, he -appears to have been no better and no worse than the generality of -proctors during the century, there is no reason why Amhurst's -denunciations should not be credited as descriptive of most of the others -of his kind. - -Modern Oxford has reason to congratulate herself that the reins of -government are no longer in such hands. There exist to-day none of the -abuses and vices which were so striking a feature of the eighteenth -century. They have all been swept away. Oxford has purged herself of them, -and in their place are to be found honesty, uprightness, and all the -cardinal virtues. The modern Don has nothing in common with his Georgian -predecessor. He relegates self to a discreet background, and devotes his -entire energies to the interests of those over whom he has authority; and -his pupils, on going down, harbour no feelings of contempt and -ill-feeling, but look on him instead as a man whose friendship is an -honour which must be treasured to the end. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards and - claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered afterwards--Edward - Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman - Catholic--Subsequent apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking - orders--Germs of ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism. - - -Academic Oxford of the eighteenth century has been thrown on to the screen -in different lights and from different sides. The Don, for the most part -inert in his elbow chair, puffing at his glazed pipe, with many bottles -and tankards at his elbow in the common room or the coffee-house; turning -up his nose at the impudence of any man who wanted to work; too lazy, and -in many cases too ignorant, to put skilful questions in the examinations; -abusing his trust as an examiner by receiving bribes, in the same manner -that he set the Undergraduates a lead in vice of all kinds outside the -schools; earnest and eager in political strife of the Vicar of Bray type; -keen on nothing but his own personal aggrandisement, either socially or -financially--in all these lights he has passed through the picture. We -have seen also the Undergraduate in all his class divisions--the humble -servitor receiving sixpence a week from each of his gentleman patrons, -doing the dirty work and odd jobs, keeping soul and body together on the -scraps that fell from the rich men's table, writing out their impositions -and scraping an education in the meanwhile, God knows how; the gentleman -commoner and the Smart, swaggering it abroad in the glory of their purple -and fine linen, sneering at the dull regulars, cutting lectures and -chapels, doing no work, incurring enormous expenses "upon tick," -following the example set by the Dons in drunkenness and wenching. We have -seen them amusing themselves, free from any kind of restriction, in -taverns, town and gown rows, on the river, in the cock-pit and the prize -ring, and dallying with the beauties under Merton Wall. - -Looking at all these things and to the general loose living which was the -keynote of the eighteenth century, we are apt to feel with Malmesbury that -it is a matter of surprise how so many of the Undergraduates made their -way so well and so creditably in the world. It has already been remarked -that the worth of Oxford lies not in the quality of the degree taken, but -in the education which environment and the association with better men -undoubtedly gives. The mere cramming of book knowledge would be useless -were it not accompanied by the far more important expansion of mind, the -broadening of outlook, and the formation of character brought about by the -social life of the university. This is palpably so in the case of the -eighteenth-century Undergraduate, since work was practically non-existent, -and a degree merely a matter of so much ready money. He could not do -anything else but take on the colour of the surroundings of vice and -intemperance which then reigned supreme. - -How is it then that any man emerged from the Oxford of this period and -succeeded in inscribing his name on the roll of fame? The reason is that -Oxford was a mirror in which was reflected London life. The metropolis was -simply Oxford on a larger scale, so that the Undergraduates were learning -at the university to do the things which would be expected of them in -after life; and the men who distinguished themselves at college were bound -to achieve renown later. The fame of such men as Charles Fox, the -pre-eminent statesman; Edward Gibbon, the historian; Malmesbury, the -diplomat; John Wesley, the founder of Methodism; Collins, the poet; and -the immortal Dr Johnson, is written down in the pages of history. - -Charles James Fox, one of the greatest statesmen England has ever seen, -came up from Eton to Hertford College[30] in 1764, where he was the -leading spirit in a little coterie which included James Harris, Earl of -Malmesbury, and William Eden, Baron Auckland. By his father he had been -initiated, while still at Eton, into the vice of gaming, by which he was -very deeply bitten. A still more curious fact is that although Fox as a -young man had no inclinations towards loose living he was taken over to -Paris and laughed into it by his otherwise doting parent. His innate force -of character, however, enabled him to resist what might have wrecked the -life of another man less strong, and although outwardly he was at Oxford -an idle gamester, yet in secret, in the small hours of the morning, he -worked exceedingly hard. Malmesbury has described this circle of friends -as a non-working, pleasure-loving body. Fox, as the leader of them, fell, -of course, under this category; but the results of his hours of private -grinding were quite extraordinary. He read "Aristotle's 'Ethics and -Politics,' with an ease uncommon in those who have principally cultivated -the study of the Greek writers. His favourite authors were Longinus and -Homer, with the latter of whom he was particularly conversant; he could -discuss the works of the Ionian bard, not only as a man of exquisite -taste, and as a philosophical critic, which might be expected from a mind -like his, but also as a grammarian. He was indeed capable of conversing -with Longinus, on the beauty, sublimity, and pathos of Homer; with -Aristotle on his delineations of man, with a pedagogue on dactyls, -spondees, anapaests, and all the arcana of language. History, ethics, -politics, were, however, his particular studies." - -Yet with all these accomplishments, which, in a period none too famous for -its learning, were all the more amazing, this extraordinary man was swayed -by his passion for gaming, and never behindhand in expeditions of debauch -with his companions. Cards were the favourite pastime then in vogue, and -it was round the baize-covered table that Fox cemented his friendship with -Malmesbury and Eden. These latter, both, subsequently, men of -international fame, also surrendered themselves completely to the -slackness of the time, and did their utmost to imitate with thoroughness -the London fops of whom they had some slight experiences before coming up. -While still gownsmen this triumvirate gave signs of their future -greatness. Their card parties were a centre of attraction, not because of -the high stakes for which they played, but for the wit and brilliance of -their conversation. Fox's eloquence was even then remarkable, and he had -"no cotemporary so erudite in knowledge, none so elegant in mirth." The -enormous possibilities of this Undergraduate were fully appreciated by the -college authorities. He was allowed to make trips to London, where, in the -company of his father, he went to the Houses of Parliament, and was a keen -listener at many of the great debates. When a proposal was on foot for Fox -to cross to Paris and make a stay of some months there, the Head of -Hertford granted him leave immediately with the unusual remark that such -application as his necessitated "some intermission; and you are the only -person with whom I have ever had connexion to whom I could say this." - -With characteristic thoroughness Fox outdid the most complete Smart in the -elegance of his dress. He made a special journey from Paris to Lyons for -the purchasing of waistcoats, and on his return to England was seen in the -Mall "in a suit of Paris-cut velvet, most fancifully embroidered, and -bedecked with a large bouquet; a headdress cemented into every variety of -shape; a little silk hat, curiously ornamented; and a pair of French shoes -with red heels; for the latter article of which he considered it of no -mean consequence that he was indebted to his own exclusive importation!" - -He had a great fondness for literature and poetry and, following the -customs of the times, he used occasionally to dash off an indiscreet -sonnet, or a more sound criticism of the current publications. Italian, he -declared, contained as a language more good poetry in it than any with -which he was conversant. The essential quality in any subject was that it -should be "entertaining." Without this, Fox refused to consider it. The -exact meaning which he read into the word is, however, somewhat difficult -to gather, for, writing to his friend Macarthey, he stated that he was -fond of mathematics and would concentrate upon it because it promised to -be entertaining. - -Oxford remained dear to Fox and the friendships he formed over the -card-table, and the various "rags" in which he took part were never -forgotten by him. When the triumvirate went down, their ways at first lay -separate. Eden's time was occupied first in getting called to the Bar, and -then, through the patronage of the Duke of Marlborough, to Parliament as -member for Woodstock. Malmesbury, an incipient diplomatist while still at -Winchester, left England and joined the British Embassy at Madrid. Fox -left Oxford before the age of twenty-one, and was immediately returned to -Parliament for Midhurst. For some twenty years the tide of life kept the -three apart, each striving in his own quarter. Then in 1782 Fox, who had -climbed higher up the ladder of fame than either of the other two, was -reminded of the old friendships of his Undergraduate days. Malmesbury, -then Sir James Harris, Knight of the Bath, was invalided home from the -Embassy at St Petersburg, and was instantly appointed by Fox to be -Minister at the Hague. The year after this, Eden, whose political career -under the banner of Lord North was a distinguished one, came again into -touch with Fox, and exerted himself to bring about a coalition between his -own chief and his old Oxford friend. It is practically certain that the -touch of sentiment roused by the remembrance of the old days, when Eden -and he played cards and drank claret beneath the spires of Oxford, was the -only reason why the coalition was brought about by Eden, for Fox -afterwards publicly avowed in the House of Commons, when the rupture -between North and himself was final, that "the greatest folly of his life -was in having supported Lord North." - - * * * * * - -"To the University of Oxford," wrote Gibbon in after years, "I acknowledge -no obligation; and she will as cheerfully renounce me for a son as I am -willing to disclaim her for a mother. I spent fourteen months at Magdalen -College; they proved the fourteen months the most idle and unprofitable of -my whole life." - -A boy of sixteen, thin and delicate, who from his earliest infancy had -fallen from one illness into another, possessed of an abnormal brain, and -for these two reasons shunning, and shunned by, his school-fellows both in -playground and classroom, and therefore compelled joyfully to fall back -upon books, with which he ate, drank, and slept--conceive such a boy, and -one sees Gibbon at Magdalen. Add to this the facts concerning the debauch, -the lack of "bookish fellows," the gross and inert Dons, all of which -characterised the times, and it is easy to appreciate the reasons why a -man like Gibbon, a high-strung, dreamy creature to whom any crowd of human -beings inspired positive fear, and whose interests were entirely removed -from wenching, drinking, and gaming, received no benefit from Oxford. He -went up intent on nothing but the pursuit of knowledge. In the course of -his dealings with his various tutors--which have already been set forth in -a previous chapter--he found that knowledge was to be obtained neither in -the lecture rooms nor the common rooms. To these latter, being a gentleman -commoner, he received invitations and went high in the expectation of -learned conversations and brilliant dialogue. He found instead no subjects -under discussion save horses, drink, and political preferment. This -beardless boy, practically self-educated and big with ideas upon the -important subjects of life, turned with disgust from the society of the -"port bibbing" and stagnant Fellows. With no definite course of studies to -occupy his attentions, and unchecked by any authority, the unaccustomed -feeling of liberty swept him into the infringement of rules and statutes. -To his tutor he gave casual excuses for non-attendance at lectures, and -disappeared from Oxford for days at a time. The unscholarly condition of -the university, and his own physical inability to join in any athletic -pursuits, united in preventing Oxford from making any impression upon him. -Her history, her architecture, her traditions, seem to have held no -interest for him, and he was more interested in making expeditions to -London and places in the surrounding country than in remaining in the -university and studying Undergraduate life. Even the beauty of Oxford's -old walls, tree-bordered lawns and walks, and winding river, made no -appeal to him. He was in sympathy with no single thing. It was a mistake -on his parents' part ever to have sent him up. A man of Gibbon's peculiar -temperament was entirely out of place in any university; more particularly -Oxford, in the state in which she then was. - -And yet in spite of the incompatibility between Gibbon and Oxford, his -university career was marked by an all-important incident in the -development of the great historian. By education and training he was a -Protestant, but, as was his habit with every subject to which he turned -his attention, he did not merely read books and swallow their contents as -indisputable facts. Everything he read was deeply pondered, made to pass -under his own criticism, and then compared with other authors on the -opposite side of the case. Consequently the subject of his own creed -underwent deep thought, and after reading Middleton's "Free Enquiry into -the Miraculous Powers which are Supposed to have Subsisted in the -Christian Church," Gibbon's religious beliefs were shaken. He decided that -Protestantism was inconsistent; he was dissatisfied with it. Filled with -the restlessness engendered by uncertainty, Gibbon read many works, -including Bossuet's "Variations of Protestantism" and "Exposition of -Catholic Doctrine," and the writings of the Jesuit priest, Father Parsons. -"These works," he said, "achieved my conversion"--the arguments in favour -of Roman Catholicism put forward by the Jesuit priest being the real -turning point in the scale. - -Having arrived at the conclusion that the Protestant religion paled into -insignificance before the Roman Catholic one, the Magdalen man felt that -he would know no happiness until he himself should join the ranks of the -"Papists." For once his thoroughness deserted him. He did not consider the -question--and the question of a man's entirely changing his religious -beliefs is a very vital one--with his usual exhaustiveness. Like a baby -with a new toy, Gibbon, the great and wonderful man of brain, world famous -and immortal, made a complete fool of himself. He rushed off to London -without more ado, and there, under the influence of a "momentary glow of -enthusiasm," "privately abjured the heresies" of his childhood before a -certain Father Baker, also a Jesuit, and became a Roman Catholic. For the -moment his belief was red hot, and he wrote a burningly defiant letter to -his father announcing his change of creed. The elder Gibbon at once -provided an excuse for his being sent down (a circumstance which very -probably would have come about on the Magdalen Dons' own initiative -without any excuse being offered to them), and packed him off to the care -of the Calvanistic minister at Lausanne, M. Pavilliard. The scattering of -the hastily-swallowed, undigested arguments which had brought about -Gibbon's precipitate action, was a matter of a few months to M. -Pavilliard, and in less than two years he was once more a fully convinced -Protestant. The ex-Magdalen man's _amour propre_ is fully demonstrated by -the unblushing assertion that although the Calvinist minister had "a -handsome share in his re-conversion," yet it was principally brought about -"by his own solitary reflections." Doubtless when he wrote those -statements he fully realised the extent and powers of his own brain, and -refused to admit that any ordinarily clever man could have, or ever did -have, any influence in swaying him from one point of view to another. One -is fully justified in assuming that had he not gone to a Calvinist -minister, but, instead, continued under the roof of a Jesuit priest, none -of the "philosophical arguments," to which he refers so glibly, would have -availed him, and Edward Gibbon, historian, would have remained a Roman -Catholic to the end of his days. - - * * * * * - -"Lord, let me not live to be useless!" was the constant prayer of John -Wesley, and it was the keynote of his character. The founder of the -Methodists, famous throughout the civilised world, and a man whose -personal magnetism and great brain were bound to bring him to the fore in -whatever profession he might have chosen, was actuated by a consuming -dread of being considered useless. A desire to achieve great things was -fostered during his Undergraduate days at Christ Church. He went there -with a sound knowledge of Hebrew, and began to achieve some note for his -skill in logic. This was the beginning of the growth of ambition, and the -fact that he was "noticed for his attainments" brought him great pleasure, -for at all times he bubbled over with humour and good spirits in full -realisation of his college notoriety. In consequence of this his -reluctance at taking orders, when proposed by his family, was marked. He -argued the question with himself fully while pacing his rooms at night, -and he wrote to his father and explained his reluctance. It is conceivable -that the life as led by gentleman commoners, with its wine parties, wild -escapades, and general moral carelessness may have been the reason of -Wesley's hesitation. For this clever, amusing lad was popular in his -college, and invited to take part in all the jollifications. Be that as it -may, the question of devoting his life to religion was a difficult one. -Wesley's self-examination, assisted by his father's scorn of becoming a -"callow clergyman," was doubtless attended by silent questionings as to -what was his speciality. The atmosphere and traditions of Oxford had laid -hold of him. The names of great men, sons of _Alma mater_, filled him with -the desire to emulate them, to excel them even. Their names were spoken in -awe and admiration. Why should not his be also? He was brilliantly clever, -of a clever family, and already had tasted the joys of fame in however -humble a manner. Why should he have to follow his father's lead and enter -the Church? Could he not do better for himself outside? Undoubtedly, for -there was more scope, less subjection to rules and orders, more individual -power. But, on the other hand, these speculations and desires to break -away were held in check by filial respect and love. His father and mother -were keenly desirous of his embracing a clerical life, and his mother -especially was of opinion that the sooner he entered into deacon's orders -the better, as it would be an additional inducement to "greater -application in the study of practical divinity." - -[Illustration: STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH.] - -Wesley, therefore, looked facts in the face and concentrated his whole -mind upon the study of theology. Since he could not be Prime Minister, he -would be a great religious man. He began by disagreeing with "The -Imitation of Christ," and held views on the question of humility which -lead one to believe that by this time the seeds of his ambition had grown -to trees. Jeremy Taylor's tenet, that we ought, "in some sense or other, -to think ourselves the worst in every company where we come," was flatly -contradicted by Wesley, who, although admitting absolute humility to God, -reserved the right to consider himself a better man than many another; for -when he was elected a Fellow of Lincoln, after he had been ordained, he -practically showed the door to all those of his visitors whom he thought -would do him no good, by reason of their not loving or fearing God. Then -an incident happened which had a lasting effect upon Wesley; which changed -his whole life. He travelled over to see what was called "a serious man." -Who this man was is unknown, but he was a student of psychology and a man -of keen intuition. He summed up John Wesley, and gave forth the remark -which had so great an influence upon him. "Sir," he said, "you wish to -serve God and go to Heaven. Remember, you cannot serve Him alone; you -must, therefore, _find_ companions or _make_ them: the Bible knows nothing -of solitary religion." - -Wesley never forgot these words. They were the turning-point in his -career. His vast brain and desire to become the greatest of God's servants -would not allow him to be merely a curate in the Established Church, thus -to serve God humbly. Even the chance of his eventually emerging as -Archbishop was not sufficiently big. Neither was the Roman Church large -enough, though from his characteristics it is conceivable that he was in -sympathy with the love of power which, in olden times, is said to have -marked out the Jesuits. The words of this "serious man" gave him furiously -to think. He would make companions, followers, disciples. He, himself, -would become greater than any of the men discussed by his fellow -Undergraduates by taking over the leadership of a band of religious and -ascetic men, who should occupy themselves solely in carrying out the -commands of God. - -Already his piety and zeal were much discussed in Oxford, for he led the -way to George Whitefield in attending the Sacrament daily and doing -charitable works. His younger brother, Charles, had formed the nucleus of -a religious order by meeting weekly with two or three serious-minded -friends and discussing religion. When John Wesley returned to Lincoln -after an absence of some two years, during which he had had time to think -out matters while filling a country curacy, these lads put themselves -under his leadership. It was the first taste of power and individual -authority. He ruled the little band sternly, put their practices into -order and method, and secured an "accession of members." He submitted -himself to rigorous fasts, and cultivated an eccentric appearance by -letting his hair grow. Even his brother, Samuel, himself really religious, -perceived that he "excited injurious prejudices against himself, by -affecting singularity in things which were of no importance." His mother -suggested cutting his hair off, but the money could not be spared from -Wesley's charities. His brother put forward that it should be merely -reduced in length. This Wesley agreed to, and it is recorded that "this -was the only instance in which he condescended, in any degree, to the -opinions of others." - -The culminating instance of his egoism lies in his absolute refusal, in -spite of his father's earnest entreaty, to take on his _cure_ at the -latter's death. He considered the proposal "not so much with reference to -his utility, as to his own well-being in spiritual things." The question, -as it appeared to him, was not whether he could do more good to others -there or at Oxford, but whether he could do more good to himself, seeing -that wherever he could be most holy himself, there he could most promote -holiness. He decided that he could improve himself more at Oxford than at -any other place, and at Oxford, therefore, he determined to remain. His -father wrote to him, "if you are not indifferent whether the labours of an -aged father, for above forty years in God's vineyard, be lost, and the -fences of it trodden down and destroyed; if you consider that Mr M. must -in all probability succeed me if you do not, and that in prospect of that -mighty Nimrod's coming hither shocks my soul, and is in a fair way of -bringing down my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave; if you have any care -for our family, which must be dismally shattered as soon as I am dropt; if -you reflect on the dear love and longing which this poor people has for -you, whereby you will be enabled to do God the more service, and the -plenteousness of the harvest, consisting of near two thousand souls, -whereas you have not many more souls in the university--you may, perhaps, -alter your mind and bend your will to His, who has promised if in all our -ways we acknowledge Him, He will direct our paths." - -In the face of this stirring appeal from an aged father what did Wesley -reply? He refused absolutely to entertain the matter. His -self-centredness, the while he directed the religious beliefs and -operations of the small body of disciples at Oxford, made him forget all -considerations of filial duty and love and of God's commands to obedience. -His parents had been the reason of his entering the Church. He would make -no further sacrifice for them now that he saw his way clear. His father, -mother, the thousands of poor people--nobody and nothing mattered except -that he should make himself more holy! The petty duties, worries, and -cares, the continual small demands of trifling points entailed by such a -curacy were too small for this striving, all-conquering spirit. What -mattered it that he should send his father's grey hairs down in sorrow to -the grave? - -All this while, he was most certainly turning over the saying of the -"serious man"--to _make_ followers. On his father's death it was proposed -that he should go to America. Here was his great chance. Oxford had taught -him that to expect to make English people, in their then blind and vicious -state, see the truth of the gospel of Christ, was futile and childish. He -was a prophet in his own country. But America, with all its -unsophisticated, raw children, its ripeness for a strong man to come with -the gift of oratory and sweep the country from end to end--there was his -chance! And afterwards, on the crest of his fame and success, then would -he convert England. His glory would have preceded him, and he would return -as one already great, to whom they would lend a more willing ear. But with -the astuteness of a really clever man, he peremptorily refused the offer -to send him out there. As a natural result the proposers of the scheme -argued. By degrees he allowed his willingness to be seen, though he -piously pointed out that as he was his mother's support, the staff of her -age, he could not go without her consent. This she immediately gave, as he -well knew she would. Accordingly, filled with exultation, buoyed up by a -feeling of certainty as to his ultimate success, John Wesley left Oxford -and England for the new country on which he intended to stamp his -personality, and by whose conquest he was determined to hand down his name -to posterity in the profession to which he had reconciled himself at the -age of some nineteen years while still an Undergraduate of Christ Church. - -Had Wesley not gone up to Oxford, his name might never have been added to -the list of England's famous men. It was Oxford which first showed him the -narrowness of a small curacy, Oxford which set him contemplating -greatness, Oxford which actually started him in command of disciples. -Therefore it is to Oxford that must be attributed the foundation, growth, -and fame of Methodism, the means by which John Wesley attained his ends, -power, and celebrity. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work--Oxford kills - his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely - freshman--Translates Pope's _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from - poverty--Dr Adam, his tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of - showing off--His love of Pembroke. - - -William Collins has been claimed as the greatest lyric poet of the -eighteenth century. But, as is so often the case with famous men, his -genius during his life time received no recognition. It was only when the -world learned of his death, after he has been removed from a madhouse, -that his few works began to come in for the notice which they deserved. -Perhaps one of the reasons that life brought him no triumphant successes -was the fact that he knew not how to work; and the blame of this -undoubtedly falls upon Oxford. Whilst at school Collins worked steadfastly -both in the matter of examinations and independent poems. It was at -Winchester that he wrote his _Persian Eclogues_, and in proof of his -capacity for study he headed the list for nomination to an Oxford college, -which included Warton and Whitehead. Oxford caused him to dwindle into a -mere dilettante, a Smart, although he was accused falsely of bringing with -him from school "a sovereign contempt for all academic studies and -discipline." The beginning of his Undergraduate life was marked by his -strutting about in fine clothes with a feather in his cap, and running up -heavy bills at the booksellers and tailors. The steady reading which he -must have got through to enable him to head the school list was now -laughed at. No one else did any work. Why should he? The Dons at Magdelen -did not enforce the college exercises, and those which Collins -condescended to put in showed signs of great genius and great indolence. -The atmosphere of slacking, and card and wine parties which prevailed in -the university seized hold of Collins, and he indulged himself to the -full. - -From time to time the poetry that was in him overflowed in an ode or two, -but he was delighted to be interrupted by some genial friend in the middle -of his work, and there the poem would be left. He frequented parties -daily, entering thoroughly into the spirit of flippancy which -characterised all his smart friends. He loved to be the centre of -attraction, to talk and laugh and jest with a circle of admirers. Those -who did not think as he did were dubbed "damned dull fellows." The -complete liberty enjoyed by him as a gownsman killed the habit of work so -forcibly inculcated at his school. No sooner did he sit down in his rooms -to read than the thought of a call that he must pay brought him to his -feet again. His entire freedom was his ruin. Had he been compelled to work -during certain hours every day, it is certain that Collins would have been -less of a butterfly, and probable that he would not have lost his reason. -As it was, the lax authority bred in him a desire to partake of the -dissipation and gaiety of London, and caused him to relegate work and -poetry to a secondary and quite unimportant consideration. He became -content merely to draw up the outline of vast schemes for future work. -That which he did complete was short and unsatisfying. He began other -things and never completed them. In momentary bursts of enthusiasm he -would dash off the commencement of some perfect lyric with inspiration and -genius. But his powers of concentration had been sapped. He had not the -strength to go on working. The call to a tea-party, any outside matter of -no importance, was sufficient to make him throw his work into the fire and -rush off to enjoy himself. He even went so far as to receive money on the -_scenario_ of a work on condition of promising the completion by a certain -date. For some days he was steadied. His usual haunts saw him not. Behind -sported oak he sat and toiled, striving to conquer the distracting -thoughts aroused by the chime of a bell, the street cries which drifted up -to his window, the rustle of a branch in the trees outside, the tramp of -footsteps on his staircase, the shouts from a distant quad. The effort was -too much for him. Oxford had completely stifled whatever will-power he had -ever possessed. He was beaten by her, robbed of the faculty of using the -gifts which God had given him. He emerged from the struggle with several -pages of _scenario_, and nothing more was ever attempted. - -The praise of his friends round the Oxford tea-tables turned him into a -consistent prevaricator. "To-morrow I will write! To-morrow shall see my -epoch-making poem. To-morrow!" But to-morrow came and was passed in equal -idleness and futilities. "Wait till I get to London. Ah, then!" He was -convinced that he had but to arrive in the metropolis to be the centre of -a storm of praise and admiration. The praise and adulation poured upon him -by his fellow Undergraduates convinced him that his wit and genius would -make a brilliant success in London, and win him a fortune. But it was not -to be. His weakness and lack of resolve and initiative had triumphed. He -became an _habitué_ of coffee-houses, and formed acquaintances with -actors, wasting his time at stage doors. He soon dissipated his money, and -became badly in debt. The schemes for work by which to win fame and -retrieve his fortunes died at their birth, and nothing was carried -through. - -There cannot be definitely laid at Oxford's door the accusation of being -the root of the insanity which subsequently developed in him. But it was -undoubtedly the fault of Oxford that he lost so soon the power over his -will which he possessed before his Undergraduate days. Such a man as -Collins needed the control of a guiding hand, some strong man whose -influence would have acted as a spur, and whose example would have led to -regular hours and serious work. Oxford, however, provided no such man. The -appointed tutor, who must have been a person gross in mind and body, took -no trouble with his charge, exercised no care, left him, indeed, to his -own resources. With him lies the blame for Collins' madness. By leaving -him to follow the loose example of the Undergraduates of the time, who -acted upon the caprice of the moment whether for good or evil, that tutor -withheld, however unconsciously, the support for which the fragile mind of -Collins craved. Consequently, under the evil influence of -eighteenth-century Oxford, the holds upon his will which kept Collins -within the bounds of sanity were gradually loosened, until at length, a -few years after his going down, his reason entirely left him, and he who -should have been one of the world's greatest poets was lost. - - * * * * * - -In a room on the second floor over the gateway at Pembroke Dr Johnson -lived during his Undergraduate career. A large-browed, unusual looking -lad, whose clothes were even then ill-fitting and badly cut, he came up at -the age of nineteen under the protecting wing of his father; was duly -introduced to his tutor, and moved in, reverently and tenderly, the only -household gods that he possessed--his books. - -Of a melancholic and somewhat bitter disposition already, he was, if -possible, even more lonely and unsought than the average freshman. This -condition of things caused him no regret. All his friends he brought with -him to line the bookshelves, and, sporting his oak against an unrealising -and unappreciative world, he revelled in the poets and the classics with -uninterrupted bliss. But the vitality of youth does not long remain -daunted, and Johnson soon threw off his melancholia and sallied forth into -the cobbled streets in search of amusement or adventure. Through the -bare-armed trees of the Broad Walk he made his way and joined in the -sliding in the frozen Christ Church meadows. Work was forgotten in the -biting, frosty, invigorating air, and for four days his tutor saw him not. -Ice does not come every year, and Johnson made the most of it while it -lasted. - -The college exercises were child's play to him. Unlike the majority of -Undergraduates of the time, who read nothing but what was put into their -hands by their tutor, Johnson brought with him to the university such a -wide acquaintance with books, both of classics and poetry, that the Master -of Pembroke said in all sincerity that he was better qualified for the -university than any man during his time. With such knowledge and with the -impetuousness that was always one of his chief characteristics, it is not -to be wondered at that Johnson dashed off his exercises at top speed, and -with a brilliance that created awe in the minds of the Dons. In one case, -for instance, being requested to translate Pope's _Messiah_ into Latin -verse, Johnson retired to his chamber and there, behind closed doors, -wrote feverishly on a corner of his book-strewn table. The results of his -rapid labours were twofold. He established a great reputation not only in -his college but in the entire university, and, more than that, earned -Pope's highest praise, and brought about his statement that in later days -it would be a question whether his own or Johnson's version would be -considered the original. One of his favourite haunts was Pembroke gate. -There he lounged away his mornings, doing no work, attending no lectures, -and preventing a crowd of listening Undergraduates from doing work or -attending lectures. Like a king surrounded by his court, Johnson, unkempt -of hair and ragged of clothes, with shoes down at heel and fit only for -the rubbish heap, let fly his wit and satire upon every topic. The shouts -of laughter which he provoked from his compeers bound them to him as -though he had been a Pied Piper, and it was to empty benches that the Dons -delivered their empty discourses. Against the tutors and Fellows also he -turned his tongue, and his satire and humour at their expense allied the -Undergraduates still more closely to him. But these merry meetings in the -Pembroke gateway were only a pose on Johnson's part. He wished to convey a -certain impression, and he succeeded. The Master of Pembroke told Boswell -that he "was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and -frolicksome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his life." - -This was indeed a proof of the success of his pose; for in reality he was -neither gay nor happy. His poverty, the bareness of his rooms, the -shabbiness of his dress, the consequent inability to go anywhere, even -into Christ Church, or do any of the things that the other men did who had -money, ground into his soul. He was bitterly sensitive of these things, -and the least reference to them, however delicate or well-meaning, either -aroused a torrent of hot words, or caused him to retreat clam-like into -his shell. The man who in a spirit of discreet friendship crept up to his -rooms, left a new pair of shoes outside his door and stole unseen away, -was only rewarded for his good-nature by learning that Johnson had thrown -them out of the window in a burst of fury against the creation that had -left him penniless. It was only the fact that scornful eyes (or at any -rate Johnson's touchiness interpreted scorn into them) were turned upon -his shoes, through which his feet peered frankly out, that Johnson ceased -going to Christ Church to obtain, second hand, the lectures of Bateman -from his friend Taylor. He conceived poverty to be an awful and dangerous -state. After his father had died, leaving practically nothing for his -mother and himself, Johnson wrote in one of his little diaries: -"Meanwhile let me take care that the powers of my mind may not be -debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me into criminal -act." By force of having no money, and not receiving any remittances from -his father, by whom every penny had to be made to go the distance of two, -he naturally incurred debts at Oxford. As he knew, however, that it would -be only with difficulty that his expenses would be met at all, his debts -were not large, and any incipient extravagance that may have been in him -was crushed out very early. His one great craving was to replenish his -library, and as this was impossible he took every opportunity of visiting -the well-stocked libraries of other people. These gave him intense joy, -and his first move was always to cross to the bookshelves and there, -oblivious of his host and the whole world, to pour over the beloved -volumes. - -His faculty for poetical and prose writings was already strongly developed -when first he came up to Oxford, and the original points of view from -which he wrote his themes were a subject of great comment. The rest of the -Undergraduates were as children when compared to one of his mental -abilities. Even his tutor admitted that his position was farcical, and -that Johnson was far above him in brain capacity, for he said on one -occasion that "I was his nominal tutor but he was above my mark." And the -lad was then but some nineteen years of age! Merely to perform college -exercises was absurd and irritating to one of his hasty dispositions. -Having rattled them off, he used to read by himself, but with such a -varied and impetuous taste that his knowledge seemed to include every -subject of which anything had ever been written. Boswell says that "he -told me, that from his earliest years he loved to read poetry, but hardly -ever read any poem to an end; that he read Shakespeare at a period so -early, that the speech of the ghost in _Hamlet_ terrified him when he was -alone; that _Horace's Odes_ were the composition in which he took most -delight, and it was not long before he liked his _Epistles_ and -_Satires_.... What he read most solidly at Oxford was Greek; not the -Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, and now and then a little -epigram; that the study of which he was most fond was Metaphysicks." But -for all his brilliance Johnson went down without taking a degree. His -father's death rendered it impossible for him to remain at Oxford for the -full course, and he never went in for the schools. - -While at the university he did not form many great friendships. His was -not the temperament. A highly sensitive man, surrounded for the most part -by men of some wealth who were ever ready to incur expenses, he was always -on the look-out for an objectionable glance of pity or sympathy, than -which there was to him nothing worse or more heinous. With his wonderful -talents it was rather for him to look down upon the vacuous moneyed men -than permit himself to be patronised by them. Consequently, fully -realising the almost insurmountable handicap of comparative penury, -Johnson preferred to make his way by force of brain power or not at all, -rather than bow down to the man with a fat purse. As he himself said in -after life, "I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I -disregarded all authority." - -As a man of readiness and physical pluck he was without rival. In the -summer the thought of sunshine and the wonderful green colourings of the -trees called him from his books, and collecting a companion on the way, he -was used to saunter through the parks to enjoy a bathe. His pulses -tingling with the delight of being alive and young on a glorious day, with -the softly waving branches rustling overhead, and the quiet river gliding -at his feet, Johnson's flow of fancies kept his companion entranced until -they had thrown off their clothes and were ready for the first cool -splash. There existed apparently a certain deep hole in the river bed in -one of the places where they used to bathe, and Johnson's friend warned -him of the danger. Immediately, with the uncaring folly of youth, Johnson -plunged into the very spot to his friend's horror and anxiety. In a few -moments he emerged, blowing like a healthy grampus, and poured ridicule -upon his well-meaning if timid friend. He was, indeed, foolhardy to the -point of braggadocio. A very sure proof of this is afforded by an incident -which occurred when he was staying at Mr Beauclerk's house in the country. -The guests were outside the house one day on the lawn discussing the -merits of their guns, when one of them pointed out that if a gun were -loaded with many balls there was a danger of its bursting. Johnson -promptly slipped in some seven or eight and fired his gun against the wall -of the house. Instead of rating him soundly for his egregiously childish -love of showing off, Boswell, in his blind idolatry, praises this up as -being "resolution." - -At Oxford, and in fact afterwards, it was Johnson's habit to sally forth -at night time for solitary walks. His great affection for Oxford was -doubtless stimulated by these lonely prowls through the moonlit streets, -and his entire disregard for the consequences of his actions helped him in -his climbs back into college. One can picture him dropping out of Pembroke -after careful glances to right and left to see that all was clear, and -marching along with his hands behind his back, safe from the scornful eyes -of Smarts, which made his mean clothes infinitely more uncomfortable, his -eyes drinking in the beauties of the wonderful skyline of the City of -Spires, his mind occupied perhaps in thinking out Rasselas as he made his -way through the narrow, deserted streets. On one of these expeditions four -roughs sprang out upon him suddenly from the shadow of a gateway, intent -on relieving him of the purse and jewellery which they supposed him to -have. Their mistake was twofold, for, in addition to lighting upon a poor -man, they had also caught a tartar. Johnson, young and active, struck out -lustily and with skill, and, setting his back to the wall, battered the -scoundrels right royally. Savage at being resisted, the men renewed their -attack with the idea of vengeance, but Johnson, with no other aid than his -fists, kept them at bay until the quick tramp of feet hurrying round the -corner announced the presence of the watch, and both the attackers and -their would-be victim were carried off to the round-house. - -At a later period in his career when, one would have thought, his quick -temper should have been entirely under control, he had an amusing -adventure in the playhouse at Lichfield which showed, plainly enough, both -that he could still lose his temper and that he had sufficient strength to -carry things through. A chair had been placed for Johnson's express use -between the side scenes. Wishing, however, to speak with some one in -another part of the building, he left it for a moment. Some gentleman -promptly took possession, and Johnson, finding on his return that his -place was occupied, civilly demanded his seat. The gentleman rudely -refused to give it up. In a flash Johnson laid hold of him and tossed both -man and chair into the pit. - -In spite of the fact that Johnson at Pembroke suffered tortures from being -poor, and that his gay and frolicsome habits were merely a cloak to hide -his bitterness, yet he contracted a love for his college which endured to -his death. It was a matter of pride to him to run over the list of names -of the celebrated men educated at the same college: such names as Spenser, -Shenstone, Blackstone, and others. In the "Memoirs of the Life and -Correspondence of Hannah Moore" is found the following passage -illustrative of his love for the old college. "Who do you think is my -present cicerone at Oxford? Only Dr Johnson! and we do so gallant it -about! You cannot imagine with what delight he showed me every part of his -own college.... Dr Adams, the Master of Pembroke, had contrived a very -pretty piece of gallantry. We spent the day and evening at his house. -After dinner Johnson begged to conduct me to see the college, he would let -no one else show it me but himself. 'This was my room; this Shenstone's.' -Then after pointing out all the rooms of the poets who had been of his -college, 'In short,' said he, 'we were a nest of singing birds. Here we -walked, there played cricket.' He ran over with pleasure the history of -the juvenile days he passed there.... But alas! Johnson looks very ill -indeed--spiritless and wan. However he made an effort to be cheerful...." - -As a last token of his love for Pembroke he sent the college a present of -all his works. This was done just before his death, and Boswell tells us -that he was most anxious to bequeath his house at Lichfield to the college -as well. His friends, however, "very properly dissuaded him from it." - - * * * * * - -And now reluctantly I lay down my pen. It would be possible to continue -for ever with such a subject as Oxford. Oxford, filled with the mystic -echoes of the past, and the life and movement of the present, where a man -passes four of the best years of his life, making livelong friendships, -feeling things, doing things, and seeing things which remain indelibly -engraved in his mind. Memories of Oxford have moved singers and poets to -ecstasies of emotional utterance, inspired great writers with beautiful -thoughts, and have been the one ray of comforting light in dark and -miserable lives. Is there, or has there ever been, a man who, having -known the protection of the old city's walls, and explored the tree-shaded -meanderings of the limpid Cher, having rioted after an athletic triumph -and burnt the midnight oil with an intimate friend, having been, in short, -a full-blooded Undergraduate, has gone down without any love for _Alma -mater_ in his heart, who has felt no thrill in after years when looking -back upon his Oxford years? Surely such a creature was never born. -Oxford's charm is, essentially, not for the few. It strikes the heart of -every one of her countless sons. Year follows year, and century, century, -and the stream of men flows unceasingly in and out of the city's gates. -Does Oxford change, however? Another wrinkle on her face may betray the -lapse of many decades, but her beauty remains. She is still the same. - - "Still on her spire the pigeons hover; - Still by her gateway haunts the gown; - Ah, but her secret? you, young lover, - Drumming her old ones, forth from town, - Know you the secret none discover? - Tell it when you go down. - - "Yet if at length you seek her, prove her, - Lean to her whispers never so nigh; - Yet if at last not less her lover - You in your hansom leave the High; - Down from her towers a ray shall hover-- - Touch you, a passer by."[31] - - -PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[2] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[3] "Random Records," by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[4] "Random Records," by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[5] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[6] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[7] "Oxford Studies," by J. R. Green (Macmillan & Co). - -[8] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[9] _Ibid._ - -[10] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[11] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[12] "Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth" (London 1820). - -[13] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[14] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[15] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[16] "Reminiscences of a Literary Life," by T. F. Dibdin, London, 1836. - -[17] "Recollections of Particulars in Life of late Mr William Shenstone," -by the Rev. Richard Graves. - -[18] Terrae Filius. - -[19] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[20] "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon" (London, 1796). - -[21] "Essays Moral and Literary," by Vicesimus Knox. - -[22] "Oxford Studies," by J.R. Green (Messrs Macmillan & Co.). - -[23] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[24] "Life of William, Earl of Shelburne," by Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice -(London, 1895). - -[25] "University Education," by Dr Newton (London, 1726). - -[26] "Boswell's Life of Johnson." - -[27] "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon" (London, 1796). - -[28] "Reminiscences of a Literary Life," by T. F. Dibdin. - -[29] "Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth" (London, 1820). - -[30] To which he transferred from Magdalen Hall. - -[31] A. C. Quiller-Couch. - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - -Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. - -The original text includes Greek characters that have been replaced with -transliterations in this text version. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/42960-8.zip b/old/42960-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3c0aa43..0000000 --- a/old/42960-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/42960-h.zip b/old/42960-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a0a6e34..0000000 --- a/old/42960-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/42960-h/42960-h.htm b/old/42960-h/42960-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 1d6c96c..0000000 --- a/old/42960-h/42960-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7264 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - Rowlandson’s Oxford, by A. Hamilton Gibbs—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - - <style type="text/css"> - - p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} - - body {margin-left: 12%; margin-right: 12%;} - - .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} - - hr {width: 33%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} - - table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} - .dent {padding-left: 2em;} - td {vertical-align: top;} - - .giant {font-size: 200%} - .huge {font-size: 150%} - .large {font-size: 125%} - - .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} - .poem {margin-left: 10%;} - .note {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;} - .hang {margin-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} - .title {text-align: center; font-size: 125%;} - - .right {text-align: right;} - .center {text-align: center;} - - .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - - .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} - - a:link {color:#0000ff; text-decoration:none} - a:visited {color:#6633cc; text-decoration:none} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. Hamilton Gibbs - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Rowlandson's Oxford - -Author: A. Hamilton Gibbs - -Illustrator: Thomas Rowlandson - -Release Date: June 16, 2013 [EBook #42960] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<p class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></p> - -<p> </p><p> </p> - -<h1><small>ROWLANDSON’S OXFORD</small></h1> - -<p> </p><p><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontis_tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/frontis.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Front View of Christ Church.</span></p> - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<p class="center"><span class="huge">ROWLANDSON’S OXFORD</span></p> -<p> </p> -<p class="center"><small>BY</small><br /> -<span class="large">A. HAMILTON GIBBS</span><br /> -<small>(ST JOHN’S COLLEGE)</small></p> -<p> </p> -<p class="center">LONDON<br /> -KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. LTD.<br /> -1911</p> - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> -<tr><td> </td> - <td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Blissful ignorance—The real education—Empty schools—Manhood—Lonely freshers—The -“pi†man—The newcomer’s metamorphosis—The Lownger’s day—Regrets at being down</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1-8</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">First arrival—Footpads and “easy pads‗Farewell to parents—A forlorn animal—Terrae -Filius’s advice—Much prayers—“Hell has no fury like a woman scorned‗The disadvantages of a conscience</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_9">9-17</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER—(<i>continued</i>)</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Ceremony of matriculation—Paying the swearing-broker—Colman and the Vice-Chancellor—Learning -the Oxford manner—<i>Homunculi Togati</i>—Academia and a mother’s love—The -jovial father—Underground dog-holes and shelving garrets—The harpy and the sheets—The first night</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_18">18-28</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE SMART</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Valentine Frippery and his letter—Boiled chicken and pettitoes—Lyne’s coffee-house and the -<i>billet doux</i>—Tick—Liquor capacity—A Smart advises <i>The Student</i>—Latin odes for tradesmen only</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_29">29-38</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE TOAST</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Terrae Filius sums her up—Merton Wall butterflies—Hearne comments—Flavia and the -orange tree—Dick, the sloven—The President under her thumb—Amhurst’s table of cons.—King Charles and the other place</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_39">39-45</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE SERVITOR</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">The germ of Ruskin Hall—Description of himself—George Whitefield—College exercises—Running -errands and copying lines—Samuel Wesley—Famous servitors</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_46">46-54</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">SPORTS AND ATHLETICS</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Rowing—Dame Hooper’s—Southey at Balliol—Cox’s six-oared crew—The river-side barmaid—Sailing-boats—Statutes -against games—Bell-ringing—Hearne and gymnasia—Horses and badger-baiting—Cock-fights and prize-fights—Paniotti’s Fencing -Academy—Old-time “bug-shooters‗Skating in Christ Church meadows—Cricket and the Bullingdon Club—Walking tours</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_55">55-68</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">CLUBS AND SOCIETIES</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">The foregathering fresher—Dibdin and the “Lunatics‗The Constitution Club—The Oxford -Poetical Club—Its rules and minutes—High Borlace—The Freecynics and Banterers</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_69">69-82</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">WORK AND EXAMINATIONS</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Tolerated ignorance—Lax discipline—Gibbon and Magdalen—The “Vindication‗Opposing -and responding—“Schemes‗Doing austens—Perjury and bribes—Receiving presents—Magdalen collections</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_83">83-94</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">’VARSITY LITERATURE</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Present-day ineptitude—Jackson’s <i>Oxford Journal</i>—Domestic intelligence—Election poems—Curious -advertisements—Superabundance of St John’s editors—Terrae Filius</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_95">95-108</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">’VARSITY LITERATURE—(<i>continued</i>)</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent"><i>The Student</i>—Cambridge included—Its design—The female student—Poem by Sir Walter -Raleigh—Bishop Atterbury’s letter—The manly woman</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_109">109-121</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">’VARSITY LITERATURE—(<i>continued</i>)</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">The <i>Oxford Magazine</i>—Introduction of illustrations—Odd advertisements—Attention paid to -the Drama—Prologue to the <i>Cozeners</i>, written by Garrick—Visions, fables, and moral -tales—<i>The Loiterer</i>—Diary of an Oxford man, 1789</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_122">122-135</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">’VARSITY LITERATURE—(<i>continued</i>)</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent"><i>The Oxford Packet</i>—<i>Academia: or the Humours of Oxford</i>—<i>The Oxford Act</i>—<i>The Oxford -Sausage</i>—Present and latter day literature summed up</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_136">136-141</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE OXFORD TRADESMAN</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent"><i>The Student’s</i> opinion of one—A tradesman’s poem and its result—Dodging the dun—Debt -and its penalties—Tradesmen’s taste in literature—Advertising and <i>The Loiterer</i>—Tick—Dr -Newton, innkeeper—Amhurst’s confession—Fathers and trainers of toasts</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_142">142-152</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE DON</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Tutors—Their slackness—The real and the ideal tutor—Dr Newton on tutors’ fees—Dr -Johnson’s recommendation of Bateman—Public lecturers—Terrae Filius and a Wadham man’s letter</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_153">153-162</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE DON—(<i>continued</i>)</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">The examiners—Perjury and bribery—Method of examining—College Fellows—Election to -Fellowships—Gibbon and the Magdalen Dons—Heads of colleges—Their domestic and -public character—Golgotha and Ben Numps—St John’s head pays homage to Christ Church—Drs Marlowe and Randolph</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_163">163-174</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">THE DON—(continued)</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Proctors—The Black Book—Personal spite and the taking of a degree—The case of Meadowcourt -of Merton—Extract from Black Book—The taverner and the Proctor—Isaac -Walton and the senior Proctor—Amhurst’s character sketch of a certain Proctor</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_175">175-183</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">Charles James Fox—Earl of Malmesbury—William Eden—Cards and claret—Midnight oil—Oxford -friendships remembered afterwards—Edward Gibbon—Delicate bookworm—Antagonism -towards Oxford—Becomes a Roman Catholic—Subsequent apostasy—John -Wesley—Resists taking orders—Germs of ambition—America the golden opportunity—Oxford responsible for Methodism</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_184">184-198</a></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td align="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN—(<i>continued</i>)</td></tr> -<tr><td class="dent">William Collins—Joins the Smarts—Forgets how to work—Oxford kills his will-power—Loses -his reason—Samuel Johnson at Pembroke—A lonely freshman—Translates Pope’s -<i>Messiah</i>—Suffers horribly from poverty—Dr Adam, his tutor—Readiness and physical -pluck—Love of showing off—His love of Pembroke</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_199">199-210</a></td></tr></table> - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p> -<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> -<tr><td>FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH</td> - <td align="right" colspan="2"><a href="#frontis"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> -<tr><td>VIEW OF ST MARY’S CHURCH AND RADCLIFFE LIBRARY</td> - <td align="center"><i>To face page</i></td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_8">9</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>COLLEGE SERVICE</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE, ETC., AT OXFORD</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE QUADRANGLE</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>A ’VARSITY TRICK—SMUGGLING IN</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>VIEW OF QUEEN’S COLLEGE</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON’S STUDY AT OXFORD</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>A DUCK HUNT</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_67">66</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS’ COLLEGE</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_75">74</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_93">92</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>MERTON COLLEGE</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_176">177</a></td></tr> -<tr><td>STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH</td> - <td align="center">"</td> - <td align="right"><a href="#Page_194">193</a></td></tr></table> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span></p> - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></p> -<h2>FOREWORD</h2> - - -<p>The task of writing a book on Oxford University is by no means an easy -one. If it be a novel there are countless pitfalls to entrap the -author—points small and inconsequent to the reader who cannot proudly -claim the City of Spires as his Alma Mater, but irritating beyond -description to the man who knows and loves Oxford.</p> - -<p>But if modern Oxford dealt with from the romantic and sentimental point of -view as the background of a story contains such a network of difficulties, -the Oxford of two hundred years ago, Rowlandson’s Oxford, contains them -multiplied a hundred times, because it now becomes a question not of -reproducing the vivid pictures of the hour and moment, but of recreating -the atmosphere of a time that is silent in death.</p> - -<p>It is, therefore, with great diffidence that I have attempted to -resuscitate the life and moods of Oxford of the eighteenth century. Barely -two years have elapsed since the days when I looked out from my windows -into the quad of my college. All the work and play, the alarums and -excursions which go to form the life of the average Undergraduate have not -yet had time to fade into dim, half forgotten memories. Alma Mater still -grasps me in her warm hand. So vivid indeed are all the impressions which -I received from the friendly gargoyles and the peace-touched lawns, the -beautiful colleges with their silent cloisters, the full-blooded -twenty-firsters and bump-suppers, and the thousand and one everyday -happenings, that I might be merely awaiting the passing of vacation to go -up once more.</p> - -<p>With all the Undergraduate interests still so strongly at heart, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span> think -that it is natural that I should have studied the Rowlandson period with -the mind of the Undergraduate and have carried out my task from the -Undergraduate point of view. It is difficult to give any idea of the -quaintness, delight, and amusement caused by going back two hundred years -to a University so like and so unlike—like, in that the men, although so -different outwardly, had practically the same ideas as we have and carried -them out in the same colleges, even in the same rooms, in a precisely -similar manner; unlike in that the Dons were a breed of men differing in -every respect from those who look after us to-day.</p> - -<p>Working, then, on the hypothesis that Oxford men in Rowlandson’s time were -identical with ourselves, I have drawn analogies between every step in the -lives of both. I have endeavoured to show that from the beginning of their -fresherdom, when they felt self-conscious, <i>gauche</i>, and timid, down to -the days when they took their degrees and knew Oxford blindfold in all her -moods and tenses, they possessed the same outlook, had the same -aspirations and ambitions, and were filled with the same admiration and -love of Alma Mater as the men of to-day. For instance, as a freshman the -Georgian Undergraduate curiously watched the seniors who were responsible -for the tone of their college. Gradually he sloughed both his nervousness -and his un-Oxford wardrobe and began to assert his own individuality. -Little by little he discovered new sides of Oxford life, new haunts in -which he began to feel at home. Daily he made new acquaintances who, as -time went by, ripened into friends. Eventually, by the end of his first -year, he had so absorbed Oxford into his personality that he in turn was -able to condescend to the next year’s arrivals. During this time his -attitude towards the Dons, the statutes, the schools—to everything, in -short, outside the immediate Undergraduate side of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span> life—varied with the -terms. At the beginning they were subjects only to be broached with awe -and deliberation. But the more he came into contact with an ever -increasing circle of friends, the sooner his respect changed into -ridicule, disgust, and finally, when a senior, into amused toleration.</p> - -<p>In précis form such was the development of the eighteenth-century -Undergraduate. His metamorphosis into a “blood,†with all its amusing -accompaniments and accomplishments—the former consisting of the latest -fashions in clothes and the <i>entrée</i> to the innermost recesses of the -Maudlin Groves in the company of the most celebrated Oxford damsel; the -latter of a facility for dashing off a well thought out extempore series -of oaths, being the handiest man at a tea-table, drinking more than any -other buck of his acquaintance before finally succumbing, to follow in the -natural sequence of events according to the temperament of the freshman. -Had he a leaning towards becoming a “blood†not only was there nothing to -stop him, but, on the contrary, all the existing conditions were such as -to facilitate the execution of his desires.</p> - -<p>In all these phrases the old-time Undergraduate can be compared with his -modern brothers. In his dealings with the river-side barmaids, the local -tradesmen, and the proctors he pursued much the same ingenuous methods -which are used with equal success to-day. Just as we become members of -unlimited numbers of year clubs and settle the affairs of the entire human -species at the nightly meetings with ease and eloquence, they, too, formed -societies and took themselves with a similar seriousness. They contributed -literary morsels to the Undergraduate papers which satirised existing -institutions in the same youthful manner in which we satirise them. They -conducted “rags†with a thoroughness and disregard of results which ended -in the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span> speedy rustication of the ringleaders which inevitably -overtakes the men who are still unwise enough to be found out.</p> - -<p>In a word, my object has been not to compare the ethics of the university -to-day with those of yesterday, but rather to set forth an analogy between -Dons and Undergraduates of that period and this, and the business of their -daily life, from the point of view of one upon whom the influence of Alma -Mater has not yet been mellowed into an analytical remembrance by long -contact with the world which lies beyond her spires.</p> - -<p>Whether I have succeeded in proving my case remains to be seen. At least I -venture to hope that the results of my work may form a frame for -Rowlandson’s pictures which are here reproduced for the first time from -Rowlandson’s original water-colour drawings.</p> - -<p>Of these pictures many were engraved at the time in aquatint, but the -engraver was as a rule so obsessed with the Georgian ideas of the -beautiful in architecture that he practically reconstructed the majority -of the buildings represented, in accordance with that idea, so that some -of the most beautiful and characteristic buildings in Oxford and -Cambridge, so delicately portrayed by Rowlandson’s pencil, are turned into -rectangular monstrosities, the like of which was never seen in either -university town.</p> - -<p>The superiority of hand-engraving over modern processes is evident enough, -when the engraving itself was made by the artist; but when the original -drawing is so hopelessly misrepresented as is the case with many of the -aquatints of Rowlandson’s drawings, the modern facsimile processes have -their obvious advantages.</p> - -<p>It is therefore claimed that Rowlandson’s drawings of Oxford are here -reproduced for the first time, and it is believed that they will be a -revelation to many who have hitherto looked upon Rowlandson<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span> merely as a -somewhat gross caricaturist. The caricaturist, it is true, is still here -depicting in the foregrounds characteristic scenes in the university life -of the time, but here is also another Rowlandson with an appreciation of -the beauties of Oxford rare indeed in his age, and one who is able to -delineate them with accuracy and delicacy which have seldom been equalled -in the portrayal of such subjects.</p> - -<p>The author desires to express his gratitude to the Rev. Christopher -Wordsworth for having very kindly granted him permission to make -quotations from “Social Life in the English Universitiesâ€; and to Messrs -Macmillan & Co., publishers of J. R. Green’s “Oxford Studies,†for -allowing him to make two quotations from that book; and also to Mr R. S. -Rait of the Oxford Historical Society for having permitted him to quote -from Miss L. Quiller-Couch’s “Reminiscences of Oxford,†published by that -society.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> -<p class="center"><span class="huge">ROWLANDSON’S OXFORD</span></p> - -<p> </p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> -<p class="title">THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Blissful ignorance—The real education—Empty schools—Manhood—Lonely -freshers—The “pi†man—The newcomer’s metamorphosis—The Lownger’s -day—Regrets at being down.</p></div> - - -<p>How few of us there are to-day who ever devote even the slack hour between -tea and “hotters†and Hall to finding out something at least about the -Undergraduates who had our rooms two centuries ago. Yet to every man the -word Oxford conjures up vast vague shadows from the past which make him as -a freshman tread softly and with reverence through the quads and gardens, -High Streets and by-streets of the City of Spires. Great names rise up -into our minds and fill us with wonder, but the scout knocks at our door -with half-cold food and our dreams dissolve into irritated reality. There -may come a moment, perhaps, when, with feet at rest upon the mantel-shelf -and a straight-grained pipe bubbling in quiet response between our teeth, -we are deafening our ears to the call of bed, the slow-flowing -conversation drifts by chance to a casual query as to what our -predecessors did at the same hour two hundred years ago. Beyond a few more -or less unimaginative surmises we remain in ignorance, blissful and -uncaring, believing them to be strange-clothed beings of stilted language -and curious habits, and at once the talk turns to present and more -pleasant topics. We little think that to all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> intents and purposes we are -almost exactly the same as our old-time-brethren.</p> - -<p>To-day we row, play cricket, football, tennis, golf; we cut our lectures -when we safely can and “binge†at every opportunity. Schools do occupy us, -it is true, but as a mere secondary item in the university scheme of -things—and rightly so. A degree, however good, does not, by itself, make -men of us and teach us how to live. It is the social life of the -university which is the real education and which sends us out into the -world ready to face anything and everything. By developing our bodies we -develop our minds, and in this programme of athletics and sociability we -are a replica of our eighteenth-century brethren. They rose about nine, -breakfasted at ten, and dallied away the morning with a flute or the -latest French comedy. By way of strenuous exercise, necessitated by a -climate which was just as evil then as now, they walked, rode, rowed, or -skated, and in the evening figured at the Mitre or Tuns where they made -merry into the small hours with beer, claret, or punch.</p> - -<p>To them schools were much less a source of worry than they are to us, for, -beyond attending occasional disputations and an odd lecture or so, when a -Don could be persuaded to give one, they obtained their degree by the -simple but expensive process of drinking the examiner—usually a hardened -toper—under the table overnight. He was then led, in the morning, while -still pleasantly fuddled, to the schools, and there, in consideration of a -respectable douceur, he signed away the necessary papers with a beaming -and self-satisfied smile. They knew nothing of the humours of white ties, -dark suits, and a week’s terrible strain to get a First in Honour -Mods—before the Finals are even thought of. The shivering crowds waiting -in the Hall to be led to the slaughter did not exist in those days. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -Trinity man named Skinner, who matriculated in 1790, flung himself at the -subject in satirical verse:—</p> - -<p class="poem">“Enter we next the Public Schools<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Where now a death-like stillness rules;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Yet these still walls in days of yore</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Back to the streets returned the roar of hundreds....</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But since their champion Aristotle</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Has been deserted for the bottle</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The benches stand like Prebends’ stalls</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Lone and deserted ’gainst the walls.â€<a name='fna_1' id='fna_1' href='#f_1'><small>[1]</small></a></span></p> - -<p>No sooner have we finished with our public school days, when we are known -as boys, and have either scrambled over the “Smalls†hedge with some -humility and relief, or else have secured the privilege of lording it in a -scholar’s gown, than we instantly become men. We may be anything between -eighteen and twenty, but if a sister, brother, or cousin be unwary enough -to refer to us as a boy—woe unto him or her! We may pretend that we do -not mind, but in our heart of hearts we rejoice in being Oxford “men,†and -guard our title jealously. We are not, however, unique in this. It is a -habit which has come down to us from the eighteenth century when they were -just as jealous of such points of etiquette.</p> - -<p>George Colman the younger tells us that he came upon two freshmen of that -time who had had a quarrel. Six months before they blacked each other’s -eyes at Westminster in the good old British way. Now, however, being -Oxford men, they could not descend to such a childish level, but agreed to -afford each other “gentlemanly satisfaction.†They may have lacked a -certain sense of humour, but it was the right spirit, and it is safe to -conclude that they both did well at their respective colleges.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>The lonely freshman of to-day who has no friends already in residence -wanders round just as nervously and makes the same <i>faux pas</i> as did his -predecessors. It takes him just as long to find his feet and settle down -and make friends. Exactly in the same way also if he knows men already up -he is welcomed by them, invited to heavy breakfasts and put right on -matters of etiquette: such as never by any chance to wear square and gown -unless absolutely compelled to—and all the other minutiæ which are of -such importance. In the eighteenth century a freshman was taken by his -senior friends to the Mitre and sat in front of a bowl of punch with brown -toast bobbing in it. He heard sonnets recited to the eyelashes of Sylvia. -He was taught to drink on his knees to Phyllis or Chloe, or some other -fair female of the moment. He was taken to the barber’s and shown how to -wear a wig instead of his own hair. In fact, his feet were set in the -proper path then in just the same friendly spirit as now.</p> - -<p>They had their clubs and societies at which, in the intervals of drinking, -they indicted Latin poems or discussed some important political question -where we, over mulled claret and other comestibles, read papers on “The -Abolition of the Halfpenny Press,†or “The Glories of Tariff Reform.†They -had big dinners, and tried to find their way home in the small hours. We -have our fresher’s wines and bump suppers in which the whole college -participates with the sole object of enjoying good wine and destroying -good furniture, and we crawl home, if we are outside college, through the -same streets. To-day we have the “pi†man who sternly refuses to -countenance such evil things as fresher’s wines; who has signed the pledge -and eschews tobacco. If he is compelled by an outraged band of senior men -to lend his presence against his better judgment, and is led out from a -room in a state of Doré-like chaos, he becomes uproarious on a glass of -water and two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> bananas, and writes home to his mother that his bill for -repairs is enormous owing to his bravery in being a martyr to his -principles, and that drunkenness is on the increase among the -Undergraduates. All the same he thoroughly enjoys himself, and in time -wears off rough corners and learns how to keep his vows without any -objectionable fanfare. At the end of the eighteenth century a man of this -kidney named Crosse wrote to his mother: “Oxford is a perfect hell upon -earth. What chance is there for an unfortunate lad just come from school -with no one to watch and care for him—no guide? I often saw my tutor -carried off perfectly intoxicated.†I can see the man crouching in a dark -corner of the quad appalled at the sight of his fellows dancing round a -bonfire, while his tutor rushes by on the arms of a festive crowd in full -rejoicing at some college triumph. It would be interesting to ascertain -Crosse’s views at the end of his university career. He remained, however, -in the obscurity of mediocrity.</p> - -<p>Our trousseau when we first appear at the university consists of modest -socks and humble waistcoats, and ties which make no claim to originality -or even to smartness. They are content to be merely useful and to fulfil -their appointed functions. But does not every parent learn subsequently, -with dreadful results to his peace of mind, how after our first month we -make our way unerringly to the tailors and clothiers, and there with -deadly earnestness absorb colour schemes which cry a loud challenge to -Joseph’s coat? Our waistcoats are dreams,—sometimes nightmares; the -blending of harmony between shirt, tie, and socks is as perfect as the -rainbow. Our hair, which used to be parted carelessly down one side, now -disdains partings and goes straight back in one beautiful Magdalen sweep. -Our trousers are thrown at the scout’s head as a gift unless they be of -unparalleled width and of exceptional crease.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>This tendency to burst forth into strange and variegated garments in token -of our emancipation from apron strings was just as strong in the old days. -The sons of country farmers came trooping into Oxford, their clouted shoes -thick with good red earth, in linsey wolsey coats, with greasy, uncombed -heads of hair flapping in the wind. Their stockings were of coarse yarn, -and they knew nothing better than to have long muslin neckcloths run with -red at the ends. But they soon realised the contempt in which they were -held for this dull chrysalis-like appearance. After a few weeks these -shamefaced clodhoppers sneaked into the side door of the barbers’ shops to -emerge proudly by the front entrance in a bob wig. Their clouted shoes -were relegated to young brothers, and they wore new ones—Oxford cut. -Their yarn stockings gave place to worsted, until, after a very short -interval between their arrival and their settling down, they blushed out -like butterflies in tye wigs and ruffles and silk gowns. The “blood†of -that period, or, as the term then was, the “smart,†or the “buck of the -first head,†was distinguished when he aired his person, Amhurst told us, -“by a stiff silk gown which rustles in the wind as he struts along; a -flaxen tye wig, or sometimes a long natural one which reaches down below -his rump; a broad bully cock’d hat, or a square cap of above twice the -usual size; white stockings, thin Spanish leather shoes; his cloaths lined -with tawdry silk, and his shirt ruffled down the bosom as well as at the -wrists. Besides all which marks, he has a delicate jaunt in his gait, and -smells philosophically of essence.â€</p> - -<p>How his direct descendant, the Bullingdon man, must envy him his -magnificent opportunities of making a brave show! Not for him the silk -gown, the bully cocked hat. The best he can do in imitation is the amazing -dinner jacket which he sometimes sports at the theatre, under which one -finds not the accepted form of dress shirt but a peculiar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> form of -abortion which is neatly ruffled at “bosom and wrists.†In place of the -Spanish leather shoes the last word to-day is apparently buckskin. The -“delicate jaunt in the gait†has been retained—the result being caused -now by a union of “Eton slouch†and “Oxford manner.†The head still smells -of essence—honey and flowers at Hatt’s, brilliantine at Martyr’s. These -great-minded people think alike not only in point of dress but of the -manner of killing time. “The Lownger†summed up the process as carried out -in the eighteenth century—</p> - -<p class="poem">“I rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Read a play till eleven or cock my lac’d hat,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Then step to my neighbour’s, till dinner to chat.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Dinner over to Tom’s or to James’s I go,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The news of the town so impatient to know,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">While Low, Locke and Newton and all the rum race</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">That talk of their Modes, their ellipses and space,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The Seat of the Soul and new Systems on high,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In Halls as abstruse as their mysteries lie.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">From the coffee-house then I to Tennis away,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And at five I post back to my College to pray,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I sup before eight and secure from all duns,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Undauntedly march to the Mitre or Tuns,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Where in Punch or good Claret my sorrows I drown,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And toss off a bowl to the best in the town.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">At one in the morning I call what’s to pay?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Then home to my College I stagger away.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thus I tope all the night as I trifle all day.â€</span></p> - -<p>Every one knows the various processes of slacking at the present time, so -that there is no need for detail. But in essence the method is the same, -and the result also. Our lunches at the Cherwell Hotel, at the riverside -inns at Iffley and Abingdon; our “Grindsâ€; our slacking on the river in -summer term—all these were done two centuries ago,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> and, just as some of -the more energetic of us seek to immortalise these doings by contributing -poems and articles to the ’varsity papers, so did the Undergraduates then -send their sonnets and Latin verses to <i>The Student</i>, the <i>Oxford -Magazine</i>, and Jackson’s <i>Oxford Journal</i>. In place of the musical comedy -lady, whose silvery laughter floats down wind to-day, the Oxford toast -flaunted it right merrily in the old days. The gownsmen’s tobacco accounts -then amounted to quite as much as ours do, and they wrote home for further -supplies of pocket money in almost the identical terms which we use -to-day. Yesterday’s and to-day’s Oxford men are one and the same. Oxford -herself and her Dons are changed, but the Undergraduate goes on doing and -thinking the same things in the same way, and when he goes down now he -feels very much as felt the eighteenth-century poet who, also down, -sang:—</p> - -<p class="poem">“Could Ovid, deathless bard, forbear,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Confin’d by Scythia’s frozen plains,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Cease to desire his native air</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In softest elegiac strains?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Cursed with the town no more can I</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For Oxford’s meadow cease to sigh....</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Can I, while mem’ry lasts, forget</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Oxford, thy silver rolling stream,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thy silent walks and cool retreat</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Where first I sucked the love of fame?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">E’en now the thought inspires my breast</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And lulls my troubled soul to rest.â€</span></p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img01tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img01.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">View of S<sup>t.</sup> Mary’s Church & Radcliffe Library.</span></p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> -<p class="title">THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">First arrival—Footpads and “easy pads‗Farewell to parents—A -forlorn animal—Terrae Filius’s advice—Much prayers—“Hell has -no fury like a woman scorned‗The disadvantages of a conscience.</p></div> - - -<p>The beginning of our university career is marked, unless we be Stoics, by -mixed feelings of elation and a sinking at the pit of the stomach which we -afterwards learn to recognise as “needle.†The train journey may have -seemed long, but at this first breathless moment when the porter receives -our goods and chattels into his arms from the top of the moribund hansom, -we could almost wish that we were back in the train again. A sense of -isolation, and of having to stand or fall by ourselves, sweeps over like a -tidal wave, leaving us momentarily chilled and nervous.</p> - -<p>How different was the fresher’s arrival in the eighteenth century. He -boarded a coach in the early morning in London. His baggage was placed in -the boot, and the traveller, armed to the teeth with blunderbuss and -pistols, took his seat. With a clattering of hoofs, yelling of ostlers and -merry tooting on the horn, the coach dashed out of the yard and wound -merrily along throughout the day by field, village, and town. If the -journey were a lucky one, the travellers arrived at Oxford without let or -hindrance about six o’clock in the evening, when they were able to catch a -first glimpse of the top of Radcliffe’s Library. They then jolted in over -Magdalen Bridge—in those days the new bridge—and so made their way to -their respective colleges.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>Wrapped up in thick coats and with ice-cold feet tapping the side of the -coach to restore circulation, the excited fresher had ample time for -cogitation. The lets and hindrances, over and above the ordinary accidents -to horse or vehicle, such as casting a shoe or breaking a strap, were -little excitements in the form of footpads and highwayman, who infested -the district on the look-out for a fat and likely college bursar laden -with fat and likely money-bags. At the first hint of the approach of one -of these gentlemen of the road, blunderbusses were whipped out and fired -in all directions, while the horses were lashed and the coach leaned and -rocked and swayed in its efforts to get away. Afterwards, ensconced behind -a tankard in the Tuns among his somewhat condescending senior friends, the -newcomer warmed up under the influence of hot toddy and genial society, -and described the awful onslaught made upon them by at least fifty mounted -desperadoes.</p> - -<p>Did he come from nearer places than London, then he made his entrance on a -sedate horse, in the fashion of the gentleman-commoner who sent the -following account to Terrae Filius:—</p> - -<p class="poem">“Being of age to play the fool<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">With muckle glee I left our school</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">At Hoxton,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And mounted on an easy pad</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Rode with my mother and my dad</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">To Oxon.â€</span></p> - -<p>This merry bard was not exempt from the pangs of loneliness. He, too, felt -the wave of depression when his mother and dad kissed him and slowly -disappeared down the street again on their easy pads. For, after an -amusing description of purchasing gown and square, he burst into tears.</p> - -<p class="poem"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -“I sallied forth to deck my back<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">With loads of Tuft and black</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Prunello.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">My back equipt, it was not fair</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">My head should ’scape, and so as square</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As chessboard</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A cap I bought, my scull to screen,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Of cloth without and all within</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of pasteboard</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">When metamorphos’d in attire</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">More like a parson than a squire</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">th’ had dressed me</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I took my leave with many a tear</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Of John our man, and parents dear</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who blessed me....â€<a name='fna_2' id='fna_2' href='#f_2'><small>[2]</small></a></span></p> - -<p>and there he was, poor lad, probably no more than fifteen years old—of -age to play the fool—left, lachrymose and solitary, to fight his own -battles and win his M.A. spurs before coming to grips with the world.</p> - -<p>George Colman the younger, who matriculated at the House in 1780, and who -would most certainly have been instantly elected to the Bullingdon Club -had he gone up to-day, wrote most feelingly on the question of the lonely -fresher. “A Freshman, as a young academician is call’d on his admission at -Oxford,†he said “is a forlorn animal. It is awkward for an old stager in -life to be thrown into a large company of strangers, to make his way among -them, as he can—but to the poor freshman everything is strange—not only -College society, but any society at all—and he is solitary in the midst -of a crowd. If, indeed, he should happen to come to the University -(particularly to Christ Church) from one of the great publick schools, he -finds some of his late school fellows, who, being in the same straggling -situation with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> himself, abridge the period of his fireside loneliness, -and of their own, by forming a familiar intercourse—otherwise he may mope -for many a week; at all events, it is generally some time before he -establishes himself in a set of acquaintance.â€<a name='fna_3' id='fna_3' href='#f_3'><small>[3]</small></a></p> - -<p>To-day when we have conquered Smalls and our rooms have been assigned in -college or in the house of some licensed landlady, it is customary for our -“parents dear†to lead us gently by the buttonhole into the study, and -there, with their coat tails spread wide to the blazing logs, to hold -forth in rounded periods what is termed sound advice. When it is over they -shake hands with us, both of us swallowing absurdly, and we go forth -better friends than ever. In the first number of any one of the ’varsity -“rags†for the new academic year it is safe to conclude that the “leader†-will be a word of explanation, advice, friendship, or welcome to the -newcomer. It is always facetious and invariably has a gentle dig at the -fresher’s expense, though the writer, once a fresher himself, should know -better. The following is a specimen of how these things were done in the -old days:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right">“<i>Wednesday, May 1, 1721.</i></p> - -<p class="hang">“To all gentlemen School-Boys, in his majesty’s dominions, who are -design’d for the University of Oxford, Terrae Filius sends greetings;</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">My Lads</span>,—I am so well acquainted with the variety and malapertness -of you sparks, as soon as you get out of your schoolmaster’s hands, -that I know I shall be called a fusty old fellow, and a thousand -ridiculous names besides, for presuming to give advice, which I would -not, say you, take, if I was a young fellow myself. But being a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> -public-spirited person, and a great well wisher to my fellow subjects -(whatever you may think of me) I am resolved, whether you mind what I -am going to say, or not, to lay you down some rules and precautions -for your conduct in the university, on the strict observation or -neglect of which your future good or ill fortune will depend; and, I -am sure that you will thank me, six or seven years hence, for this -piece of service, however troublesome and impertinent you may think it -now....</p> - -<p>“I observe, in the first place, that you no sooner shake off the -authority of the birch, but you affect to distinguish yourselves from -your dirty school-fellows by a new suit of drugget, a pair of prim -ruffles, a new bob wig, and a brazen-hilted sword; in which tawdry -manner you strut about town for a week or two before you go to -College, giving your selves airs in coffee-houses and booksellers’ -shops, and intruding your selves into the company of us men; from all -which, I suppose you think your selves your own master, no more -subject to controul or confinement—alas! fatal mistake! soon will you -confess that the tyrrany of a school is nothing to the tyrrany of a -college; nor the grammar-pedant to the academical one; for, what -signifies a smarting back-side to a bullied conscience? What was Busby -in comparison to D-e-l-ne?</p> - -<p>“And now, young gentlemen, give me leave to put on my magisterial -face, and to instruct you how you are to demean yourselves in the -station you are entered into, and what sort of behaviour is expected -from you, according to the oaths and these subscriptions.</p> - -<p>“I know very well that you go thither prepossessed with a sanguine -(but ignorant) opinion, that you are to hold fast your principles, -whatever they are; that you are to follow, what in your conscience you -think right, and to desclaim what you think wrong, that this is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -only way to thrive in the world, and to be happy in the next, just as -your silly mothers and superstitious old nurses have taught you: in -the first place, therefore, I advise you to disengage your selves from -all such scrupulous notions; for you may take my word for it, that -otherwise it is a million to one that you miscarry.</p> - -<p>“For, it is a maxim as true as it is common, so many men, so many -minds: but amongst all the different opinions of mankind there is -never, at any one time, but one of those opinions which is call’d -orthodox; if, therefore, you give your fancy the reins and let your -own judgment determine your opinions, what infinite odds is it, -whether you happen to hit upon that single, individual opinion, which -is, at that particular crisis of time, in vogue, and which is -therefore your interest to espouse? But if with all your diligence and -sincerity, you should miss this <i>rara avis</i>, this happy phÅ“nix -opinion, then farewell to all your future prospects, to your ease, -your reputation and good name for ever afterwards; I mean, if you are -so weak, and so much bigotted with education, as to think it your duty -to profess what you cannot help believing.</p> - -<p>“Your only safe way therefore is to carry along with you consciences -<i>chartes blanches</i>, ready to receive any impression that you please to -stamp upon them; for I would not have you adopt any particular system, -however popular and prevailing it may seem to be at present, because -it may alter, and then will prove fatal to you; for as much as they -talk of steadiness and immutability of principles at Oxford, every -body knows that Popery was for many ages the orthodox religion there; - -that protestantism (with much difficulty, and sorely against their -wills) succeeded it; that, not long ago, they were almost all Whigs, -and now almost all Tories, and for ought we know, will e’re long be -Whigs again—never therefore explain your opinion but let <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>your -declarations be, that you are churchmen, and that you believe as the -church believes....</p></div> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img02tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img02.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">College Service.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“I will only advise you to suppress, as much as possible, that busy -spirit of curiosity, which too often fatally exerts itself in youthful -breasts; but if (notwithstanding all your non-inquisitiveness), the -strong beams of truth will break upon your minds, let them shine -inwardly; disturb not the publick peace with your private discoveries -and illuminations; so, if you have any concern for your welfare and -prosperity, let Aristotle be your guide in philosophy, and Athanasius -in religion....</p> - -<p>“To call yourself a Whig at Oxford, or to act like one, or to lie -under the suspicion of being one, is the same as to be attainted and -outlaw’d; you will be discouraged and brow beaten in your own college -and disqualified for preferment in any other; your company will be -avoided, and your character abused; you will certainly lose your -degree and at last, perhaps, upon some pretence or other, be -expelled....</p> - -<p>“Leave no stone unturned to insinuate yourselves into the favour of -the Head, and senior-fellows of your respective colleges....</p> - -<p>“Whenever you appear before them, conduct yourselves with all specious -humility and demureness; convince them of the great veneration you -have for their persons by speaking very low and bowing to the ground -at every word: whenever you meet them jump out of the way with your -caps in your hands and give them the whole street to walk in, let it -be as broad as it will. Always seem afraid to look them in the face, -and make them believe that their presence strikes you with a sort of -awe and confusion; but above all be very constant at chapel; never -think that you lose too much time at prayers, or that you neglect your -studies too much, whilst you are showing your respect to the church. I -have heard indeed that a former president of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> St John’s College (a -whimsical, irreligious old fellow) would frequently jobe his students -for going constantly three or four times a day to chapel, and -lingering away their time, and robbing their parents, under a pretence -of serving God. But as this is the only instance I ever met with of -such an Head, it cannot overthrow a general rule.... Another thing -very popular in order to grow the favourites of your Heads, is first -of all to make your selves the favourites of their footmen, concerning -whose dignity and grandeur I have spoken in a former paper. You must -have often heard, my lads, of the old proverb, “Love me, and love my -Dogâ€; which is not very foreign in this case; for if you expect any -favour from the master, you must shew great respect to his servant.</p> - -<p>“Have a particular regard how you speak of those gaudy things which -flutter about Oxford in prodigious numbers, in summer-time, call’d -toasts; take care how you reflect on their parentage, their condition, -their virtue, or their beauty; ever remembering that of the poet,</p> - -<p class="poem">‘Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,’</p> - -<p>especially when they have spiritual bravoes on their side and old -lecherous bully-backs to revenge their cause on every audacious -contemner of Venus and her altars....</p> - -<p>“I have but one thing more to mention to you, which is, not to give -into that foolish practice, so common at this time in the university, -of running upon tick, as it is called.... How many hopeful young men -have been ruin’d in this manner, cut short in the midst of their -philosophical enquiries, and for ever afterwards render’d unable to -pursue their studies again with a chearful heart, and without -interruption?...</p> - -<p>“My whole advice, in a few words, is this:—</p> - -<p>“Let your own interest, abstracted from any whimsical notions of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -conscience, honour, honesty or justice, be your guide; consult always -the present humour of the place and comply with it; make yourselves -popular and beloved at any rate; rant, roar, rail, drink, wh—re, -swear, unswear, forswear; do anything, do everything that you find -obliging; do nothing that is otherwise; nor let any considerations of -right and wrong flatter you out of those courses, which you find most -for your advantage. I have only to add, that if you follow this -advice, you will spend your days there not only in peace and plenty, -but with applause and reputation; if you have any secret good -qualities they will be pointed out in the most glaring light, and -aggravated in the most exquisite manner; if you have ever so many ugly -ones, they will be either palliated or jesuitically interpreted into -good ones. Whereas, on the contrary, if you despice and reject these -wholesome admonitions, violence, disrest, and an ill name will be the -rewards of your folly and obstinacy; it will avail you nothing, that -you have enrich’d your minds with all sorts of useful and commendable -knowledge; and that, as to vulgar morality, you have preserved an -unspotted character before men; these things will rather exasperate -the holy men against you, and excite all their cunning and artifice -for your destruction; the least frailties, humanity is prone to, will -be magnify’d into the grossest of all wickedness; and the best -actions, our nature is capable of, will be debased and vilified away. -And now do even as it shall seem good unto you. Farewell.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Terrae Filius.</span>â€</span></p></div> - - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> -<p class="title">THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER—(<i>continued</i>)</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Ceremony of matriculation—Paying the swearing-broker—Colman and the -Vice-Chancellor—Learning the Oxford manner—Homunculi -Togati—Academia and a mother’s love—The jovial father—Underground -dog-holes and shelving garrets—The harpy and the sheets—The first night.</p></div> - - -<p>The advice tendered to freshmen in Amhurst’s amazing and bitterly -satirical letter is for those who have been matriculated. They must, -therefore, fulfil all the rites of matriculation before they can read, -mark, learn, and inwardly digest it. As the process was vastly different -in Georgian times, it is interesting to read the varying accounts of -eighteenth-century freshmen. The gentleman who, “being of age to play the -fool,†came up with his parents from Hoxton, has written a somewhat -indiscreet but all the more laughable description of the ceremony.</p> - -<p class="poem">“The master took me first aside,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Shew’d me a scrawl, I read, and cry’d</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Do Fidem.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Gravely he shook me by the fist,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And wish’d me well—we next request</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">a tutor.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He recommends a staunch one, who</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In Perkin’s cause has been his co-</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">adjutor</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To see this precious stick of wood,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I went (for so they deem’d it good)</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">in fear, Sir.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And found him swallowing loyally</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Six deep his bumpers which to me</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">seem’d queer, Sir.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He bade me sit and take my glass,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I answered, looking like an ass,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">I, I can’t, Sir.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Not drink!—you don’t come here to pray!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The merry mortal said by way</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">of answer.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To pray, Sir! No—my lad, ’tis well,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Come! here’s our friend Sacheverell!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">here’s Trappy!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Here’s Ormond! Marr! in short so many</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Traitors we drank, it made my Cranium nappy....â€</span></p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img03tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img03.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A View of the Theatre, Printing House &c. &c. at Oxford.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>The lad then went out into the town with this same “sociable priest,†-bought his gown, and parted from his parents, and then—</p> - -<p class="poem">“The master said they might believe him,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So righteously (the Lord forgive him!)</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">he’d govern</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He’d show me the extremest love,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Provided that I did not prove</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">too stubborn.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So far, so good—but now fresh fees</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Began (for so the custom is)</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Fresh fees!—with drink they knock you down,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">You spoil your clothes; and your new gown</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">you spue in....â€</span></p> - -<p>He then retired for the night, and was awakened at six o’clock next -morning by a “scoundrel†of a servitor. He rose and went to chapel, very -sick and still half drunk. Later in the day, when he had recovered -sufficiently, he went with his tutor to Broad Street, where—</p> - -<p class="poem">“Built in the form of Pidgeon-pye,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A house there is for rooks to lie</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">and roost in.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thither to take the oaths I went,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">My tutor’s conscience well content</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">to trust in.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Their laws, their articles of grace</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Forty, I think (save half a brace),</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">was willing</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To swear to; swore, engag’d my soul,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And paid the swearing-broker whole</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">ten shilling.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Full half a pound I paid him down,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To live in the most p——d town,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">o’ th’ nation.â€</span></p> - -<p>It must not be understood, however, that such orgies characterised the -ceremony of matriculation. This writer of fluent doggerel was a gentleman -commoner, but he seems to have caught at every lax point that he -personally observed as a target for his wit. The more sober matriculation, -both literally and figuratively, of George Colman the younger can be most -suitably placed in the other side of the scale. “On my entrance at -Oxford,†he wrote, “as a member of Christ Church, I was too foppish a -follower of the prevailing fashions to be a reverential observer of -academical dress—in truth, I was an egregious little puppy—and I was -presented to the Vice-Chancellor, to be matriculated, in a grass-green -coat, with the furiously-bepowder’d pate of an ultra-coxcomb; both of -which are proscribed by the Statutes of the University. Much courtesy is -shown, in the ceremony of matriculation, to the boys who come from Eton -and Westminster; insomuch that they are never examined in respect to their -knowledge of the School Classicks—their competency is considered as a -matter of course—but, in subscribing the articles of their matriculation -oaths, they sign their <i>praenomen</i> in Latin; I wrote, therefore, -<i>Georgeius</i>—thus, alas! inserting a redundant E—and, after a pause, said -enquiringly to the Vice-Chancellor—looking up in his face with perfect -<i>naiveté</i>—‘pray, sir, am I to add Colmanus?’</p> - -<p>“My Terentian father, who stood at my right elbow, blush’d<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> at my -ignorance—the Tutor (a piece of sham marble) did not blush at all—but -gave a Sardonick grin, as if <i>Scagliola</i> had moved a muscle!</p> - -<p>“The good-natur’d Vice drollingly answer’d me—that the surnames of -certain <i>profound authors</i>, whose comparatively modern works were extant, -had been latinized; but that a Roman termination tack’d to the patronymick -of an English gentleman of my age and appearance, would rather be a -redundant formality. There was too much delicacy in the worthy Doctor’s -satire for my green comprehension—and I walk’d back, unconscious of it, -to my College—strutting along in the pride of my unstatutable curls and -coat, and practically breaking my oath, the moment I had taken it.â€</p> - -<p>From both their accounts, differing so widely from each other, it would -seem that the ceremony of matriculation, which to-day is conducted with an -almost ecclesiastical solemnity, was in those days simply a matter of -form, a tedious business which the Vice-Chancellor hurried through with -all speed. One man performed his part in a condition of semi-intoxication -without an inkling of the meaning of the oaths to which he subscribed, -while another was presented to the Vice-Chancellor in clothes more -suitable to a fancy dress ball than to his formal admittance to the -university. Neither man drew upon himself the reprimand which to-day would -immediately be levelled at him.</p> - -<p>In becoming a member of the university, therefore, the eighteenth-century -freshman received his first experience of the complete inanition and -futility of the Don world. Apparently he suffered no apprehension on the -score of not conducting himself with fitting politeness when in the -presence of the authorities. Their opinion of him gave him no concern. He -was far more anxious not to contravene the unwritten laws of the -Undergraduate world. Once the tiresome but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> necessary matriculation became -a thing of the past, he began to look about him, anxiously at first from -the desire to avoid grievous blunders which would make him a -laughing-stock. All initiative was far too dangerous when the lynx eyes of -the entire college were upon him. Actuated by the firm belief that at -least he could not be criticised for politeness and good-breeding, the -timid freshman endeavoured to ingratiate himself in the eyes of all by -doffing his cap with humble frequence. From “Academia, or the Humours of -Oxford,†the following bitter excerpt on the question of the freshman’s -manners is vastly entertaining.</p> - -<p class="poem">“Now being arrived at his College,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The place of learning and of knowledge,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A while he’ll leer about, and snivel ye,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And doff his Hat to all most civilly,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Being told at home that a shame face too,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Was a great sign that he had some Grace too,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He’ll speak to none, alas! for he’s</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Amased at every Man he sees:</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">May-hap this lasts a Week, or two,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Till some Scab laugh’s him on’t, so</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">That when most you’d expect his mending,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">His Breeding’s ended, and not ending</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Now he dares walk abroad, and dare ye,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hat on, in peoples’ Faces stare ye;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thinks what a Fool he was before, to</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Pull off his Hat, which he’d no more do;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But that the devil shites Disasters,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So that he’s forc’d to cap the Masters, ...</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He must cap them; but for all other,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Tho’ ’twere his Father, or his Mother,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">His Gran’num, Uncle, Aunt, or Cousin,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He wo’ not give one Cap to a dozen.â€</span></p> - -<p>What wonders may be worked in a week or two! From almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> servile -politeness he went to the extreme of discourtesy with the assurance of a -second-year man.</p> - -<p>Imitation is, however, the essence of life. Because certain things are -done, all men are compelled to do them unless they wish to incur social -ostracism. We are like sheep and must follow our leaders with docility and -readiness. If we decline to bow the neck to convention, and declare for -originality and freedom, society turns and rends us. At Oxford the -punishment for such a crime as originality is swift. A horde of outraged -seniors descends like an avalanche upon the sinner’s rooms. They visit -their wrath not only upon his belongings but upon his person, and -eventually they leave him in a condition of mental and physical chaos, to -realise the utter futility of kicking against the pricks.</p> - -<p>In the eighteenth century the same social creed was practised. For any -transgression from the commonplace the chastisement of the culprit was -inevitable. The freshman undoubtedly realised the truth of this, however -vaguely, and conducted himself according to the rules laid down by his -seniors. His excessive good manners lasted only until the moment when it -was born in upon him that rudeness was the policy of his leaders.</p> - -<p>But though he might be no more than a scant fifteen years of age, as soon -as he wiped away the last tear caused by the departure of his mother, the -fresher became a Man, aggressively and consistently so. “No character,†-wrote Colman, “is more jealous of the Dignity of Man (not excepting -Colonel Bath, in Fielding’s Novel of Amelia), than a lad who has just -escaped from School birch to College discipline. This early Lord of the -Creation is so inflated with the importance of virility, that his -pretension to it is carefully kept up in almost every sentence he utters. -He never mentions any one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> his associates but as a gentlemanly or a -pleasant man—a studious man, a dashing man, a drinking man, etc., -etc.—and the Homunculi Togati of Sixteen always talk of themselves as -Christ Church men, Trinity, St John’s, Oriel, Brazen-nose men, -etc.—according to their several colleges, of which old Hens, they are the -Chickens—in short, there is no end to the colloquial manhood of these -mannikins.†This passage might easily have been written to-day and not -about the middle of the eighteenth century, for the point of view of the -modern Oxford man is exactly the same as it was then.</p> - -<p>The parents of the old-time fresher looked at his going up and his -immediate assumption of manhood from very opposite points of view. The -mother, with regulation anxiety, conceived him to be a hardly-used, -homesick, half-starved, uncomfortable, thoroughly wretched fellow, doomed -to live in stone walls in a fever-stricken and miasmic locality.</p> - -<p class="poem">“Most dearly tender’d by his Mother,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Who loves him better than his brother;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So she at home a good while keeps him,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In White-broath, and Canary steeps him;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And tho’ his Noddle’s somewhat empty,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">His Guts are stuffed with Sweet-meats plenty.â€</span></p> - -<p>This is how “Academia†described the mother’s far-reaching apron-string -still feeling out, though some weeks cut, for her far distant son. Not so -the father! When his wife sent a servant up to Oxford with a well-stuffed -hamper for her boy and fond messages as to his health, he went down to the -servants’ hall and, planting himself in front of the returned messenger, -asked “If’s Son has got a Punck yet Whores he, and gets ye often drunk -yet; Being told by’s Man, he took him quaffing, For joy he bursts his -sides with laughing; and prithee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> John (says he) and how was’t—Ha, Drunk -i’ the Cellar, as a Sow, wast?â€</p> - -<p>Although the father took it for granted that his son had immediately -forgotten his home and arrived in an instant at man’s estate—as far as -that permits of getting drunk—he was not always in the right. To a -certain extent the anxieties of the mother were justified, for, on -arriving at Oxford, the freshman did not always fall on a bed of clover. -In many instances he was lucky to get a bed at all in some poky little -garret with one window, through which could be obtained a minute view of -sky and stars, and which was ice-cold in winter and in summer stuffy to a -degree. However large the college there were always more men in residence -than could be properly housed. Colman said of the House, one of the -biggest colleges in Oxford, that it “was so completely cramm’d, that -shelving garrets, and even unwholesome cellars, were inhabited by young -gentlemen, in whose father’s families the servants could not be less -liberally accommodated.†He refers also to a fellow Westminster boy who -was “stuffed into one of these underground dog-holes.†Then, too, even up -to the beginning of the nineteenth century there prevailed a system of -ragging freshers which did not tend to make them any the less homesick. -They were swindled by their scouts, and shamefully misused by their -bedmakers.</p> - -<p>To add to their discomfort their tutors were in many cases fast allies of -the bottle, and totally unable to render them any assistance in the matter -of finding their feet. Colman made a very illuminative reference, from his -own experience, to the scurvy tricks which the scouts and bedmakers played -upon the long-suffering fresher. “My two mercenaries,†he wrote, “having -to do with a perfect greenhorn, laid in all the articles for me which I -wanted—wine, tea, sugar, coals,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> candles, bed and table linen—with many -useless etcetera, which they told me I wanted—charging me for everything -full half more than they had paid, and then purloining from me full half -of what they had sold.â€</p> - -<p>His scout and bedmaker had each seen fit to enter the bonds of holy -matrimony, and both brought up their better halves to assist in despoiling -the luckless greenhorn. He, however, soon lost his greenness and set about -putting his house in order—with the result that all four were turned out. -In their places, he duly installed a scout and a bedmaker who were married -to each other—a tactical move which “consolidates knavery, and reduces -your <i>ménage</i> to a couple of pilferers, instead of four.†But before -Colman had found himself sufficiently to be able firmly but courteously to -dispense with their services, his bedmaker, fittingly called a harpy, -played him false most condemnably. “I was glad,†he said, writing of his -first night in Oxford, “on retiring early to rest, that I might ruminate, -for five minutes, over the important events of the day, before I fell fast -asleep. I was not, then, in the habit of using a night-lamp or burning a -rush-light; so, having dropt the extinguisher upon my candle, I got into -bed; and found, to my dismay, that I was reclining in the dark upon a -surface very like that of a pond in a hard frost. The jade of a bedmaker -had spread the spick and span sheeting over the blankets, fresh from the -linen-draper’s shop-unwash’d, uniron’d, unair’d, ‘with all its -imperfections on its head.’ Through the tedious hours of an inclement -January night, I could not close my eyes—my teeth chattered, my back -shivered—I thrust my head under the bolster, drew my knees up to my chin; -it was all useless, I could not get warm—I turned again and again, at -every turn a hand or a foot touch’d upon some new cold place; and at every -turn the chill glazy clothwork crepitated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> like iced buckram. God forgive -me for having execrated the authoress of my calamity! but, I verily think, -that the meekest of Christians who prays for his enemies, and for mercy -upon “all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks,†would in his orisons, in -such a night of misery, make a specifick exception against his -Bedmaker!â€<a name='fna_4' id='fna_4' href='#f_4'><small>[4]</small></a></p> - -<p>In these enlightened days a fresher, even, would not have left her out of -his prayers—he would have invented new ones for her especial benefit. -Poor Colman found when he rose betimes in the morning, making a virtue of -necessity, that a night of misery was not the only torment that the -ill-favoured hussy had stored up for him. For, having abluted in ice-cold -water in the hopes of refreshing himself, he found that the towel was in -an even worse state of hardness than the sheets; while at breakfast the -tablecloth was so stiff that he dreaded to sit down to his meal because he -feared to cut his shins against the edge of it. With intent, doubtless, to -add humiliation to injury, the old hag had also left his surplice in a -state of pristine unwashedness, so that “cased in this linen panoply, -which covers him from his chin to his feet, and seems to stand on end, in -emulation of a suit of armour (the certain betrayer of an academical -debutant) the Newcomer is to be heard at several yards distance, on his -way across a quadrangle, cracking and bouncing like a dry faggot upon the -fire—and he never fails to command notice, in his repeated marches to -prayer, till soap and water have silenced the noise of his arrival at -Oxford.â€</p> - -<p>The optimism of a Georgian freshman was truly amazing. The invaluable gift -of youth is undoubtedly its explanation. To be thrust suddenly into -entirely new surroundings where not only the manners and customs were -quite different from any of which he had experience<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> before, but where it -was necessary to begin again, to readjust his outlook upon life, was a -very trying experience. It was one which men of greater maturity would -hesitate to undergo. And yet here was this man, a mere lad of fifteen or -sixteen, gladly entering a new world with a vague notion of the things -which would be expected of him or of the things to expect. Without a -twinge of nervousness he signed his name to long-winded oaths, and -unconsciously perjured himself five minutes later. Everywhere he saw -strange faces, met with new and incomprehensible experiences, and found -himself doing the wrong thing. With undaunted cheerfulness, however, he -allowed Oxford to treat him as she chose, to mould him to her own liking, -to pull him this way and that, until eventually, with an increased -optimism, his schoolboy corners were rounded off, and he became one with -Oxford. It was his very lack of experience which enabled him to go through -such a difficult time without flinching. He did not realise the tremendous -forces at work upon him. He was, in fact, like a seed put into earth. -After the rain, the sun, the wind, and all the forces of Nature have been -brought to bear upon it, slowly and irresistibly it shoots up and becomes -at last a flower. The Oxford freshman burst forth into blossom at the end -of his first year in the same helpless way. He was quite unable to tell by -what steps his development had been brought about, and was perfectly -content to go through his whole university career in the same blind way.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> -<p class="title">THE SMART</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Valentine Frippery and his letter—Boiled chicken and -pettitoes—Lyne’s coffee-house and the <i>billet-doux</i>—Tick—Liquor -capacity—A Smart advises <i>The Student</i>—Latin odes for tradesmen only.</p></div> - - -<p>One of the most interesting things to study at the university is the way -in which a man gets into a certain set. Let me take for example a group of -freshmen who come from the same public school, who have played together in -the school games, possibly invited each other home for the holidays. Their -tastes and ideas are apparently the same. On coming up to Oxford each man -is differently affected. For the first few weeks they meet in one -another’s rooms and discuss their impressions freely and without any -reserve. Then suddenly, after the manner of mushrooms which spring up in a -single night, it is found that one of them has got into the racing set -which despises everybody who does not ride a horse; another into the -working set, which lives, eats, and sleeps with its books; a third into -the religious set, which in a quiet, unostentatious manner goes out of its -way to help the poor, attends frequent religious meetings and, -unfortunately and quite undeservedly, is somewhat scorned by the rest of -the college; a fourth has got into the smart set, and has become a -“bloodâ€; and others into the thousand and one little groups which go to -the composition of a university.</p> - -<p>This curious sudden upheaval of ideas and habits which is brought about in -one short term is to be found in every college every year, just as it -appertained in the eighteenth century. I have shown the way in which some -of these freshmen came to feel ashamed of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> clothes and crept into -the back entrances of barber’s and tailor’s shops, while their friends -remained perfectly satisfied with their appearance, and jogged along -without any desire for silks and satins.</p> - -<p>The Georgian “blood,†however, was a person of tantamount importance. It -was he who provided the university with food for mirth, envy, satire, -recrimination. In a previous chapter I quoted Amhurst’s description of how -a Smart might be distinguished when he sauntered along, languidly twirling -his clouded amber cane and smelling philosophically of essence. His main -objects in life were apparently to avoid the accusation of being -ill-mannered, to consume daily as much liquor as possible, to be ardent in -singing the praises of the latest toast, and to expend in finery far more -money than he possessed. He thought himself to be a model of culture and -was, in fact, the man of the period who put on the most “side.â€</p> - -<p>Amhurst, with an editorial genius that was without parallel in those -times, wrote an attack on the good manners of Undergraduates in order that -he might criticise, or better, satirise, that “large body of fine -gentlemen call’d Smarts.†Under the name of Valentine Frippery he answered -his own attack with a bitter reply, taking up the cudgels stoutly on -behalf of the attackees, and wound up his article by riddling all men of -the Frippery type.</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img04tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img04.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Bucks of the First Head.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Allowing that Terrae Filius was ever a caricaturist, and that all his -tirades and jibes must be taken cum <i>grano salts</i>, nevertheless the -picture he draws of the Bucks of the first head is a very true one. -“Valentine Frippery†wrote in answer to the accusation of ill-breeding as -follows:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center">“<i>To Terrae Filius.</i></p> - -<p class="right">“<i>Christ Church College, July 1.</i></p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Mr Prate-apace.</span>—Amongst all the vile trash and ribaldry with which -you have lately poisoned the publick, nothing is more scandalous -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>and saucy than your charging our university with the want of -civility and good manners. Let me tell you, Sir, for all your haste, -we have as well-bred, accomplish’d gentlemen in Oxford, as any where -in Christendom; men that dress as well, sing as well, dance as well, -and behave in every respect as well, though I say it, as any man under -the sun. You are the first audacious Wit-wou’d that ever call’d Oxford -a boorish, uncivilised place: And demme, Sir, you ought to be hors’d -out of all good company for an impudent praggish Jackanapes. Oxford a -boorish place! poor wretch! I am sorry for thy ignorance. Who wears -finer lace, or better linnen than Jack Flutter? who has handsomer -tie-wigs or more fashionable cloaths or cuts a bolder dash than Tom -Paroquet? Where can you find a more handy man at a tea-table than -Robin Tattle? Or, without vanity I may say it, one that plays better -at Ombre than him, who subscribes himself an enemy to all such pimps -as thou art?â€</p></div> - -<p>Such are the arguments he brought up against a charge of bad manners: -singing, dancing, handy at a tea-table, wearing the best lace and linen -and cutting a bold dash. The perfect gentleman indeed! The acme of -culture! He, with all the others of his kidney, put in an appearance at -Lyne’s coffee-house in academical undress somewhere about eleven -o’clock—that is to say, immediately after a gentle dalliance with -breakfast. Here he discussed the topics of the hour, heard the latest -news, enjoyed the latest scandals, and then strolled in the Park or under -Merton wall. Those who made no pretensions to “Smartness†were meanwhile -dining in Hall—a thing far beneath the dignity of a Buck of the first -head who ate in solitary dignity in his own chamber, his meal consisting, -for example, of “boil’d chicken and pettitoes.†After resting awhile, he -spent an hour or so in overcoming the difficulties of dressing. That -satisfactorily concluded, it was his bounden duty to make an afternoon -appearance at Lyne’s. About five o’clock he dropped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> in at Hamilton’s, -where he “struts about the room for a while and drinks a dram of citron.†-Thence he returned to college and adjourned to the chapel “to shew how -genteely he dresses, and how well he can chaunt.†Having given conclusive -demonstrations of these two accomplishments, he drank tea with some -celebrated toast and attended her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Such a ridiculous idea as work never entered his head. Any -time he might give to reading was employed in the study of novels and -romances.</p> - -<p>As an example of his passion for cleanliness at all costs, Terrae Filius -gave an account of an adventure of one of these gentry at Lyne’s -coffee-house. “This afternoon, a noted Smart of Christ Church College, as -he was writing a <i>billet-doux</i> had the misfortune to blot one of his -ruffles with a spot of ink, which put the gentleman in so great a -disorder, that he threw the standish through the window, stamped about the -room for half an hour together, and was often heard to say, I wonder that -gentlemen cannot find some cleaner method of conveying their thoughts, and -that he wished he might be blown up wherever he went, if he ever made use -of that filthy liquor again, though the displeasure of the whole fair sex -was the consequence. Let prigs and pedants, said he, keep all the nasty -manufacture to themselves.â€</p> - -<p>It is comforting to be assured that this elaborate sect was not entirely -composed of peers and gentleman commoners, for their street behaviour was -far worse than anything that even the most hypercritical Somerville -blue-stocking can accuse Undergraduates of to-day. “They cannot forbear -laughing,†said Amhurst, “at every body that obeys the statutes, and -differs from them; or (as my correspondent expresses it in the proper -dialect of the place) that does not cut as bold a dash as they do. They -have singly, for the most part, very good assurances; but when they walk -together in bodies (as they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> often do), how impregnable are their -foreheads? They point at every foul they meet, laugh very loud, and -whisper as loud as they laugh. Demme, Jack, there goes a prig! Let us blow -the puppy up. Upon which they all stare him full in the face, turn him -from the wall as he passes by, and set up an horse laugh, which puts the -plain raw novice out of countenance, and occasions great triumph amongst -these tawdry desperadoes.â€</p> - -<p>Like all hooligans they were thorough cowards unless backed up by vastly -superior numbers. It took about twenty of them, and that with the -assistance of Dutch courage, to frighten some three or four foreigners and -to kick a Presbyterian parson out of a coffee-house. They were for the -most part sons of country farmers with practically no money who got into -the Smart set immediately after coming up, and who remained Smarts just so -long as the “mercers, taylors, shoe makers, and perriwig-makers will tick -with them.†Tradesmen of that day were apparently possessed of far longer -patience than most of the present generation. To-day they despatch -solicitor’s letters after two terms. Then they allowed a bill to lie -fallow (with the usual accretion of interest) for three or four years.</p> - -<p>With his usual quaint humour Amhurst declared that he has seen these same -Smarts two or three years afterwards “in gowns and cassocks, walking with -demure looks and an holy leer; so easy is the transition from dancing to -preaching, and from the bowling-green to the pulpit.â€</p> - -<p>The Rev. Richard Graves, a Pembroke man, in 1732, related that he became -friends with a genial crowd who passed their evenings in drinking strong -ale, smoking like chimneys, punning, and singing Bacchanalian catches. -Some gentlemen commoners, however, Smarts, who came from the same part of -the country as Graves, rescued him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> from the ill-bred hands of such low -company—so considered chiefly on account of the liquor they drank. In his -own words “they good-naturedly invited me to their party: they treated me -with port wine and arrack-punch; and then, when they had drunk so much, as -hardly to distinguish wine from water, they would conclude with a bottle -or two of claret. They kept late hours and drank their favourite toasts on -their knees. This was deemed good company and high life; but it neither -suited my taste, my fortune, or my constitution.â€</p> - -<p>Night after night of this deep drinking made the fortunes of the -spirit-merchants, but left some of the drinkers soddened and useless. I -may quote, as an instance, the case of Lord Lovelace.</p> - -<p>It is a well-known fact that the Principal of his Hall reported, and that -truthfully, that “he never knew him sober but twelve hours and that he -used every morning to drink a quart of brandy, or something equivalent to -it, to his own share.†Hearne, too, in his diary makes reference to a -commoner of Magdalen Hall, a son of Dr Inett, who was found dead from -drinking ale and brandy. There were three companions with him, but they -were merely asleep under the table. Professor Pryme, who was up at the end -of the eighteenth century, afterwards wrote that when Hall was over it was -the fashion to collect a large party together to drink wine with a little -dessert. “The host,†he said, “named a Vice-President, and toasts were -given. First a lady by each of the party, then a gentleman, and then a -sentiment. I remember one of these latter, the single married and the -married happy. Every one was required to fill a bumper to the toasts of -the President, the Vice-President, and his own. If any one wished to go to -chapel he was pressed to return afterwards.â€<a name='fna_5' id='fna_5' href='#f_5'><small>[5]</small></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>The fact, however, that toping constituted such an important feature of -Undergraduate life, among Smarts and non-Smarts equally is not a matter -for vast amazement, or stern condemnation. <i>Quis custodiet ipsos -custodes?</i>—for the Dons were if anything even worse than those to whom -they stood in <i>loco parentis</i>. The whole world of Dons, from the humblest -and most juvenile Fellow to the king of kings, the Head of a college or -Hall, cultivated the vice of drink as assiduously as if it were a virtue. -Oxford was not so far away from London as not to reflect the manners and -habits of the capital, and since to the Bucks of London abnormal drinking -was then the highest good form, it is not to be wondered at that the -Undergraduates, ever of tender years and advanced imitative faculties, -should give a brilliant reflection of the metropolis.</p> - -<p>Amhurst has pointed out that the Smarts never read anything but plays, -novels, and French comedies. When <i>The Student</i> appeared, however, they -took it up more or less whole-heartedly. In these days of photographic -(that being the polite way of spelling pornographic) weeklies, a new -venture in ’varsity journals is greeted as a nine days’ wonder. However -good the contents provided, the Oxford man prefers to look upon the -fetching features—and limbs, of footlight favourites in papers provided -free of charge in the Junior Common Room. Consequently the rash starter of -a “’varsity rag†is compelled to retire from the lists after the first two -or three issues. In the old days, however, even the <i>blasé</i> Smart had some -initiative left to him in matters of literature. He supported the new -paper with enthusiasm and read every number carefully. After some time he -found that the editor was catering too freely for the Dons. Instead, -however, of discontinuing his subscription he wrote to the editor and -appealed on the grounds that <i>The Student</i> was becoming too prosy and -<i>Spectator</i>-like,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> and urged him to keep it lighter in tone. The following -is an extract from the letter sent in:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">——’s Coffee-house</span>, <i>May 4</i>.</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Brother Student</span>,—Without a compliment I am much pleased with your -scheme, and heartily wish you success. Hitherto I think you bid fair -for it, and seem to meet with general applause. But will you forgive -my offering a word or two of advice? Let us have no more of your -abstract speculations, as you call them; indeed they are not popular. -Last night, in a full assembly of pretty fellows at this place (all -your admirers), Billy Languish read your fourth number. We all agreed -that your ‘Impudence’ is inimitable, but your ‘letter in defence of -religion,’ tho’ it did not startle us (as you apprehended it would) -somewhat amazed us, I must own. Consider, Mr Student, you write for -the publick of which three fourths are ignoramuses, and therefor, tho’ -we may allow you now and then in compliment to your taylor and mercer -and other learned folks, to insert a Latin ode or epigram, yet I must -needs tell you, that we don’t relish your metaphysics. For which -reason I am directed by all the Smarts at ——’s, to acquaint you, -that we expect (especially if it be English), at least to understand -what we read. We consider your book as a monthly feast or -entertainment; and if we pay our ordinary, ’tis but reasonable the -dishes you set before us should be such as we are able to taste. We -cannot indeed always expect rarities, and may now and then admit of a -trifle or puff by way of make up; but prithee don’t surfeit us with -ambigu’s and inconnu’s. At the same time I must tell you, that we are -much pleased with your last Sapphic, that we reverence Tony Alsop’s -memory, and have resolv’d one and all to subscribe to his works. Billy -Languish and Dick Dimple indeed say, the ‘verses on the grotto’ are -better; and Dick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> (who you know is a wit as well as a beau) gave us -off hand a translation of them, but I have indeed since found out -where he borrows it.—I am yours,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Harry Didapper</span>.â€</span></p></div> - -<p>The <i>habitués</i> of the unknown coffee-house, all pretty fellows, looked -upon <i>The Student</i> as a “monthly feast of entertainment!†For all their -soaking and “wenching†and slacking they would seem to have had a certain -amount of brain and appreciative capability left to them.</p> - -<p>In a subsequent chapter I shall set down the methods by which these men -obtained their degrees after having spent some six or seven years inside -the old walls of the university. They had as little time for work as the -“bloods†of to-day whose every moment is claimed by matters of far greater -moment than mere study! To a certain extent the Smarts, though they -perhaps did not know it, were philosophers. They said to themselves that -life was short and youth shorter still, that therefore it behoved them to -cram in to the six years of their university career as much pleasure, -excitement, and amusement as was possible. The eighteenth century lent -itself whole-heartedly to this programme. The Dons, who should have been -intent on governing Oxford, had other game afoot. The Undergraduates were -thus left to their own devices, and the Smarts were the first to take -advantage of such Arcadian conditions. They delayed the hour of rising -until the sun grew weary of calling them out. There was no stern shepherd -to round them into chapel at the ungodly hour of eight o’clock. Like -butterflies they flitted from place to place at the caprice of the moment. -They held Bacchanalian revels in and out of college without regard to Dons -and statutes. Their paramours, far from being ejected from the city, were -shared with the authorities,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> thus proving that they had a better -understanding of real socialism than the exponents of to-day. The same -cobbled streets that hear us shouting our way home in the small hours, saw -the Georgian men staggering along with tight-linked arms in the silvery -moonlight, while Big Tom boomed out the birth of a new day.</p> - -<p>As year after year slipped relentlessly off the calender they absorbed the -unique atmosphere of Oxford, fully appreciating under their mask of -<i>blasé</i> scorn the traditions and the unforgettable charm of <i>Alma mater</i>. -They carried their love and reverence for her to the grave, and gave proof -of it by sending their sons and grandsons to swell the never-ending -procession of men who sing the praises of Oxford.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> -<p class="title">THE TOAST</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Terrae Filius sums her up—Merton Wall butterflies—Hearne -comments—Flavia and the orange tree—Dick, the sloven—The President -under her thumb—Amhurst’s table of cons.—King Charles and the other place.</p></div> - - -<p>What is an Oxford toast? For answer I cannot do better than turn to that -Oxford <i>Encyclopædia</i>, Terrae Filius, who from the ambush of his -anonymity, directed his fire upon all toasts with unerring aim and deadly -effect.</p> - -<p>“She is born, as the King says, of mean estate, being the daughter of some -insolent mechanick, who fancies himself a gentleman and resolves to keep -up his family by marrying his girl to a parson or a schoolmaster; to which -end, he and his wife call her pretty miss, as soon as she knows what it -means, and sends her to the dancing school to learn how to hold up her -head, and turn out her toes; she is taught from a child not to play with -any of the dirty boys and girls in the neighbourhood; but to mind her -dancing, and have a great respect for the gown. This foundation being -laid, she goes on fast enough of herself, without any farther assistance, -except an hoop, a gay suit of cloaths, and two or three new holland -smocks. Thus equipt, she frequents all the balls and publick walks in -Oxford; where it is a great chance if she does not, in time, meet with -some raw coxcomb or other, who is her humble servant; waits upon her home, -calls upon her again the next day; dangles after her from place to place; -and is at last, with some art and management, drawn in to marry her.</p> - -<p class="poem"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -“She has impudence—therefore she has wit;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She is proud—therefore she is well bred;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She has fine Cloaths—therefore she is genteel;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She would fain be a wife-and therefore she is not a Wh—re.â€</span></p> - -<p>Amhurst also informed his readers that they appeared principally in -summer, like butterflies, when they flitted from flower to flower of the -Smarts under Merton Wall. “The toasts,†he remarked, “are scouring up and -new-trimming their best gowns and petticoats against the summer, and -intend to make a splendid appearance.†These ladies were an extremely -conspicuous feature of Undergraduate life. In the description of the -Smart’s day we are told how after chapel he drank tea with some celebrated -toast, and then waited upon her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Afterwards, when drowning his sorrows at the particular -establishment in vogue at the time, the Smart exhausted himself in his -efforts to dash off a sonnet to her eyelashes or a rhapsody in praise of -her tip-tilted nose. He drank her health upon his knees, tossing off a -non-heeltaps to every letter of her name. His day was considered wasted -unless he were seen in all his delicate apparel in company with the -acknowledged reigning queen among toasts.</p> - -<p>One lady, by name of Flavia, kept an orange tree growing in the window of -her bed-chamber. This inspired a burst of classic poetry from a Buck who -saw and envied it. In one of the volumes of Terrae Filius a most amusing -story was related which shows what influence these toasts exercised upon -the Undergraduates. She, too, answered to the name of Flavia—whether she -were one and the same as the horticultural lady it is impossible to say. A -“promising lad†came up and was recognised by his master—of whom he was -“a very favourite‗to be a “diligent and ingenious scholar.â€</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img05tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img05.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Merton College and Chapel, from the first Quadrangle.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>That character he maintained for some time, keeping to his chamber and his -books, with sported oak, and not concerning himself with the vagaries of -fashion; “indeed the poor young fellow did not dress smart; nay, often was -really dirty.†Gradually he made the acquaintance of some noted Bucks and -sought their society and conversation out of curiosity. But they -continually ragged him about his shabby appearance. “Dick!†said they, -“prithee let’s burn this damned brown wig of thine; get thee a little more -linnen.†The lad for a time was obdurate, but at last put forward in -excuse that “this alteration of himself would make him be taken too much -notice of, and, it may be, his new dress might sit so awkward, that he -would become the jest of his acquaintance.†This was a set-back to the -friends, but they came to the cunning conclusion that he might be tricked -into it. So they buttonholed him. “Dick,†said one, “did you never see -Miss Flavia, one of our top toasts?†“No,†quoth he, “unless at her -window.†“Well, faith,†said the friend, “to be plain, she likes you, I -myself heard her say in public company, I have been shew’d Mr Such-a-one -several times; everybody says he’s a man of fire; it is a thousand pities -he’s such a sloven.†Dick was finished. He went home obsessed with the -idea, flung his wig into the fire, forgot his studies entirely and swore -to see Flavia the very next day. His friends spread a rumour abroad that -he had come into money, and his tradesmen gave him unlimited credit. -Accordingly he was decked out, in ruffles and all the other paraphernalia, -and from that day worshipped at the lady’s shrine. In these days such fair -Flavias would in all probability be found pulling beer in a public-house, -totally devoid of H’s, but none the less popular among a certain set. -To-day they can be treated with a certain amount of Undergraduate levity, -but in the eighteenth century it behoved the contumelious to walk -delicately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> and to be very careful. Amhurst hoisted the danger signal when -he related that “not long ago, a bitter lampoon was published upon the -most celebrated of these petticoat-professors, as soon as it came out the -town was in an uproar, and a very severe sentence was passed upon the -author of this anonymous libel; to discover whom no pains were spared; all -the disgusted, ill-natured fellows in the university were, one after -another, suspected upon this occasion. At last, I know not how, it was -peremptorily fixed upon one; whether justly, or not, I cannot say; but the -parties offended resolved to make an example of somebody for such an -enormous crime, and one of them (more enraged than the rest) was heard to -declare ‘that, right or wrong, that impudent scoundrel (mentioning his -name) should be expelled, by G—d; and that she had interest enough with -the president and senior fellows of his college to get his business -done.’†And the scandalous part of the business was that the president and -senior fellows who had evidently had relations with the woman in question -were such cowards as to yield to her demands, which probably took the form -of threats of exposure against themselves, and sent the unoffending man -down for good.</p> - -<p>In his character of general reformer Terrae Filius felt himself compelled, -however reluctantly, to “draw his pen against womenkind‗the womenkind of -Oxford. His apology for so doing was that “I shall have the misfortunes of -numberless young men to answer for, if I conceal anything which may be for -their advantage, or spare any abuses in the universities, though committed -by the fairest offenders.â€</p> - -<p>After a disquisition on love, which he described as “a most arbitrary -passion,†which “engrosses the whole man ... and grumbles at its own -poverty and searches after new acquisitions,†he continued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> “conscious of -this truth, our wise forefathers took all possible care to purge the seats -of learning of these shining temptations, these dangerous decoys of youth; -but as all their prudence and precaution could not do this entirely, they -made a statute, ‘prohibiting all scholars, as well as Graduates or -Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to frequent the houses and shops of -any townsmen by day, and especially by night; but more especially houses, -which harbour or receive infamous or suspected women, with whom all -scholars are strictly forbid to keep company, either in their own private -chambers, or at the houses of any townsmen.’ I suppose it will be objected -by the Smarts, or others, that this statute extends only to common -prostitutes or night-walkers, and not to those divine creatures dignified -by the name of toasts; but I think that it includes all suspected women, -and especially the toasts, for the following reasons:—</p> - -<p>“1. Because it was not the only design of the statute to restrain the -scholars from debauchery (from which, I hope, they need no forcible -restraint!) but to prevent them also from neglecting their studies, and -entering into scandalous marriages; of which they are in no danger from -common strumpets and mercenary street-walkers.</p> - -<p>“2. Because there was no occasion for a statute against common whores, any -more than against house-breakers and pickpockets, which are all punishable -by the laws of the land.</p> - -<p>“3. Because I have a better opinion of the townsmen of Oxford (who are, -many of them, matriculated men), than to believe that they would entertain -in their houses such filthy drabs; though it is probable enough that they -would marry their daughters to advantage if they could; in which I can see -no great harm on their parts.</p> - -<p>“4. Because I have a better opinion of the scholars too, than to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> believe -that they would keep company with such cattle; and I think it is a scandal -to the university to stand in need of a statute, which supposes that any -of her hopeful children are addicted to such beastliness.â€</p> - -<p>Amhurst’s reasons are logical enough to convince the meanest intelligence -of the true nature of the Oxford toasts. In support of them he brings up -no less a second than King Charles I., who wrote officially and at some -length on the question of university government to the Vice-Chancellor and -Heads of Cambridge commanding the suppression of women such as those in -question. The reason why the good King did not treat Oxford to a similar -injunction is, supposedly, that the need for it did not reach the royal -ears. It is hinted more than once, too, in the pages of Terrae Filius that -the Dons themselves entertained feelings of sympathy towards the toasts, -and shielded them from royal visitations by intentionally keeping things -quiet. Judging from the character of the Dons in the eighteenth century it -is highly probable that such was indeed the case.</p> - -<p>“Happy is it,†says Amhurst, “for the present generation of Oxford toasts, -that King Charles I. (so much unlike that accomplished gentleman, his son) -was long ago laid in the dust! Were that rigid King now alive, my mind -misgives me strangely, that I should see an end of all the balls and -cabals, and junketings at Oxford; that several of our most celebrated and -beautiful madams would pluck off their fine feathers, and betake -themselves to an honest livelihood; or make their personal appearance -before the lords of his majesty’s privy council, to answer their contempt, -and such other matters as should be objected against them.â€</p> - -<p>Unmourned and besmirched the last of the Oxford toasts has <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>long since -passed beyond the judgment of man. The Dons were in all too many cases the -cause of sending recruits to the ranks of the oldest profession in the -world. Heads of colleges, reverend clerics, and holders of Fellowships -must all answer to the charge of “wenching.â€</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img06tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img06.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A Varsity Trick—Smuggling In.</span></p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> -<p class="title">The Servitor</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">The germ of Ruskin Hall—Description of himself—George -Whitefield—College exercises—Running errands and copying -lines—Samuel Wesley—Famous servitors.</p></div> - - -<p>In the year of grace nineteen hundred and eleven there are three main -divisions of the genus Undergraduate:—scholars, commoners, and “toshers,†-the last sometimes known as non-collegiate Undergraduates. Under a fourth -heading, which constitutes a small subdivision all by itself, I may place -the working-men Undergraduates—the members of Ruskin Hall. Georgian -Undergraduates might also be split up into parallel divisions. There were -also servitors, who were, in some sort, the ancient form of the -working-men Undergraduates of the twentieth century.</p> - -<p>Oxford in Georgian times was, according to the popular conception, a place -where peers and rich men sent their sons in order that they might receive -a better education than anywhere else in the world. The erudition, -classical learning, and brilliance of the Dons passed all belief. Nowhere -on earth was there gathered together a body of men with such knowledge and -brain power. Did any man yearn for instruction in any subject, Oxford was -the only place where that subject was exhaustively known and thoroughly -taught.</p> - -<p>It naturally followed, therefore, that the lower classes, who drudged all -day in the effort to keep body and soul together, and provide the -wherewithal to fill the stomachs of their hungry progeny, left Oxford -outside their calculations when discussing the prospective<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> education of -their children. Oxford was a place for rich men. How, then, could their -sons go there? It was impossible. Meanwhile, the children were clamouring -for education. What was to be done?</p> - -<p>Through the influence of rich men who had been to the university the -penniless lads were taken from the plough and entered into colleges as -errand boys and odd-job hands. They were at liberty to pick up what -education they could in the intervals of performing menial tasks for the -gentlemen commoners. They cleaned boots, fetched and carried, and were the -servants of anybody who chose to order them about. Having no money they -slept in coal-holes, cupboards under the stairs, and attics under the -eaves, and satisfied the pangs of hunger by picking up the crumbs which -fell from the rich men’s tables. They had no social intercourse with the -gentlemen commoners, and were treated with scant courtesy by the college -servants.</p> - -<p>The resemblance between the servitor and the Ruskin Hall man is apparent -when due allowance has been made for modern improvements. The modern -conception of Oxford is curiously akin to that of the eighteenth century. -The education to be received still has a very high reputation. The present -day working classes, however, possess a greater ambition than their -antecedents showed. They are no longer content to snatch education in the -intervals of earning their keep. Ruskin Hall has been built for their -especial benefit. There they may win scholarships to their heart’s -content. Their kinship with the humble servitor lies in the fact that they -do their own menial work instead of having to do it for others; that they -have no social intercourse with the Undergraduates of other colleges -except at the weekly debates of the Union Society in which they -distinguish themselves by their fluent Socialistic doctrines; and that -they take no part in the athletic and collegiate life of the university.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>One of the earliest references to servitors in the eighteenth century -records is contained in a comedy entitled “An Act at Oxford.†The play was -written in 1704 by a dramatist named Baker.</p> - -<p>One of the characters was a servitor named Chum. His father was a -chimney-sweep and his mother a poor ginger-bread seller at Cow Cross. Chum -was established in Brazen-Nose College, and his duties consisted in -waiting “upon Gentleman-Commoners, to dress and clean their shoes and make -out their exercises.†His “fortune,†which was “soon told,†consisted -apparently of “two Raggs call’d shirts, a dog’s eared Grammer, and a piece -of <i>Ovid de Tristibus</i>.†For having materially assisted his master, a -Smart, to win the hand and heart of a fair damsel known as Berynthia, he -was rewarded, in the play, with the sum of five hundred guineas—an -occurrence which would be the height of improbability in real life, as the -servitor was jeered at and made a kind of Aunt Sally by all and sundry.</p> - -<p>In 1709 one of those poor miserable wretches sat him down—where he -procured pen and paper is still shrouded in mystery—and wrote a poem on -his own doleful condition. Its title is “Servitour,†and it was printed by -“H. Hills in Black-Fryars, near the water side.†He pictured himself to be -coming out of a Skittle Yard in his “rusty round cap.â€</p> - -<p class="poem">“Like Cheesy Pouch of Shon-ap-Shenkin,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">His Sandy locks, with wide Hiatus,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Like Bristles seem’d Erected at us,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Clotted with Sweat, the Ends hung down;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And made Resplendent Cape of Gown;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whose Cape was thin, and so Transparent,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hold it t’ th’ Light, you’d scarce beware on’t</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">’Twixt Chin and Breast contiguous Band,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hung in an Obtuse Angle and—</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">It had a Latitude Canonick,</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">His coat so greasy was and torn,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">That had you seen it you’d ha’ sworn</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">’Twas Ten Years old when he was born.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">His buttons fringed as is the Fashion,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In Gallick and Brittanick Nation;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Or, to speak like more Modern fellows,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Their moulds dropt out like ripe Brown-shellers.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">His Leather Galligaskin’s rent,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Made Artless Music as he went....</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">His Holey Stockins were ty’d up,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">One with a Band, one with a Rope.â€</span></p> - -<p>In such clothes as these, the extreme poverty of which would bring a blush -to the cheek of the modern Oxford paper-boy, this gloomy poet had to go to -the Buttery and procure game and capons, ribs of beef, and other succulent -dainties for some gentleman commoner’s dinner, while for himself there was -nothing but “Poor scraps and Cold as I’m a sinner.†As a place to lay his -head o’ nights, he was thankful to get a lumber-room in the apex of the -building, somewhere under the eaves,</p> - -<p class="poem">“A Room with Dirt and Cobwebs lin’d,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Which here and there with Spittle Shin’d;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Inhabited let’s see—by Four;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">If I mistake not, ’twas no more.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Two buggy beds....</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Their Dormer windows with brown paper,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Was patch’d to keep out Northern Vapour.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The Table’s broken foot stood on,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">An old Schrevelious Lexicon,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Here lay together Authors various,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">From Homer’s <i>Iliad</i>, to Cordelius:</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And so abus’d was Aristotle,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He only served to stop a bottle....</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Where eke stood Glass, Dark-Lanthorns ancient</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Fragment of Mirerr, Penknife, Trencher,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And forty things which I can’t mention.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Old Chairs and Stools, and such-like Lumber,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Compleatly furnisht out the Chamber.â€</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>George Whitefield, a servitor at Pembroke in 1732, also shared his rooms -with others. His companions, however, did not appear to have suffered -unduly from the usual depression caused by their hard lot, for they -frequently invited Whitefield to join them “in their excess of riot,†and -looked upon him as a weird and extraordinary creature for his persistent -refusals. His account of the manner of his admission to Pembroke College -is characteristic of the man, and gives an idea of what tasks servitors -were called upon to perform.</p> - -<p>“Being now near eighteen years old, it was judged proper for me to go to -the university. God had sweetly prepared my way. The friends before -applied to, recommended me to the Master of Pembroke College. Another -friend took up ten pounds upon bond (which I have since repaid), to defray -the first expence of entring; and the Master, contrary to all -expectations, admitted me servitor immediately.</p> - -<p>“Soon after my admission I went and resided, and found my having been used -to a publick-house was now of service to me. For many of the servitors -being sick at my first coming up, by diligent and ready attendance I -ingratiated myself into the gentlemen’s favour so far, that many, who had -it in their power, chose me to be their servitor.</p> - -<p>“This much lessened my expence; and indeed, God was so gracious, that, -with the profits of my place, and some presents made me by my kind tutor, -for almost the first three years I did not put all my relations together -to above £24 expence.</p> - -<p>“And it has often grieved my soul to see so many young students spending -their substance in extravagant living, and thereby entirely unfitting -themselves for the prosecution of their proper studies.â€</p> - -<p>Because he became a Methodist and attended seriously to his religious -duties, Whitefield was badly ragged. The fact that a servitor should make -any claims to superior godliness made his employers, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> some reason, -acutely annoyed. “I daily underwent some contempt at college,†he wrote, -“some have thrown dirt at me; others, by degrees, took away their pay from -me; and two friends that were dear unto me, grew shy of, and forsook me.â€</p> - -<p>One of his lay duties as servitor consisted in going round to the -gentlemen’s rooms at ten o’clock at night and knocking to find out who was -in—the majority of them being at that hour, doubtless, discussing punch -and claret in the Mitre or Tuns. All those who made no answer to his knock -were reported and received punishment for being out of college after -hours.</p> - -<p>Of his college exercises he wrote as follows:—</p> - -<p>“Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme, I had no power to write a -word nor so much as tell my Christian friends of my inability to do it. -Saturday being come (which is the day the students give up their -compositions), it was suggested to me that I must go down into the Hall -and confess I could not make a theme, and so publickly suffer, as if it -were for my Master’s sake. When the bell rung to call us, I went to open -the door to go downstairs, but feeling something give me a violent inward -check, I entered my study, and continued instant in prayer, waiting the -event. For this my tutor fined me half a crown. The next week Satan served -me in like manner again; but having now got more strength, and perceiving -no inward check, I went into the Hall. My name being call’d, I stood up, -and told my tutor I could not make a theme. I think he fined me a second -time; but, imagining that I would not willingly neglect my exercise, he -afterwards called me into the common room, and kindly enquired whether any -misfortune had befallen me, or what was the reason I could not make a -theme? I burst into tears, and assured him that it was not out of contempt -of authority, but that I could not act<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> otherwise. Then, at length, he -said he believed I could not; and, when he left me, told a friend (as he -very well might), that he took me to be really mad.â€</p> - -<p>Besides cleaning boots, fetching and carrying, running errands and -performing other menial services of a like nature, the servitors jumped at -the opportunity of earning odd pence by writing out the impositions to -which their masters had been condemned by the Proctors.</p> - -<p class="poem">“For should grave Proctor chance to meet<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A buck in boots along the street</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He stops his course and with permission</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Asking his name, sets imposition,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Which to get done, if he’s a ninny</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He gives his barber half a guinea.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">This useful go-between will share it</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">With servitor in college garret,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Who counts these labours sweet as honey</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Which brings to purse some pocket money.â€<a name='fna_6' id='fna_6' href='#f_6'><small>[6]</small></a></span></p> - -<p>Other methods of pocket filling to which servitors had recourse were -mentioned by Dr Johnson, who, writing to Tom Warton concerning the delay -in a work on Spenser caused by the number of his correspondents and pupils -at Oxford, said: “Three hours a day stolen from sleep and amusement will -produce it. Let a servitor transcribe the quotations, and interleave them -with references to save time.†As, however, servitors were not admitted -within the sacred precincts of the Bodleian, transcription was necessarily -limited. This was a cause of great lamentation and outcry at the time from -the men, because they were compelled to do the work themselves, and from -the servitors because they were thus deprived of a means of earning a few -extra necessary pence. “Dr Hyde complains,†says Wordsworth in his book on -the eighteenth century, “that some in the university have been very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -troublesome in pressing that their servitors may transcribe manuscripts -for them, though not capable of being sworn to the Library.â€</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img07tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img07.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">View of Queen’s College.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>For a commoner to be seen in public in the company of a servitor was a -“great disparagement.†Consequently, if a servitor was sufficiently -blessed to be able to call a commoner friend, he must needs visit him -secretly, or under cover of darkness. It is on record that Shenstone, who -was a commoner of Pembroke, visited Jago a servitor, a friend of his, in -strict private because of this popular prejudice. When Erasmus was at -Queen’s his servitor’s rooms were immediately above his own. The poor -wretch, besides being at his master’s beck and call, was very often the -slave of his master’s mistress—an employ of vast uneasiness and -discomfort.</p> - -<p>In the <i>Oxford Chronicle</i> in 1859, in a series of articles entitled -“Oxford during the Last Century,†Aubrey describes Willis, the servitor of -Dr Iles, Canon of Christ Church, as studying in his blue livery cloak at -the lower end of the hall by the door, and assisting his master’s wife in -mixing drugs.</p> - -<p>As a parallel case to that of Whitefield, who was a drawer in the Bell -Inn, Gloucester, Hearne tells “of one Lyne, son of a clergyman, and -grandson of the Town Clerk of Oxford, who was drawer at the King’s Head -Tavern of that city, in 1735; his elder brother being Fellow of Emmanuel, -and his younger an eminent scholar of King’s.â€</p> - -<p>It was no exaggeration to say that the servitors lived on the scraps from -the Undergraduates’ tables. The following quotation shows the grinding -penury against which they had to struggle: “Of the poverty of the class,†-wrote J. R. Green in his wonderful “Oxford Studies,†“no better instance -can be found than Samuel Wesley, the father of the Wesleys who were to -change the whole state of religion in England, and himself a very stirring -person, to whom we shall have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> occasion subsequently to allude. He was the -son of an ejected and starving non-conformist minister, and when at the -age of sixteen he walked to Oxford and entered himself as a servitor at -Exeter, his whole worldly wealth amounted to no more than £2, 16s. Yet -after supporting himself during his whole university career without any -aid from his friends, save a trivial 5s., he set off to London to make a -plunge into life with a capital increased to £10, 15s. Five shillings, -however, sneer as we may, seem to have been no uncommon ‘allowance’ to a -servitor of the time.â€<a name='fna_7' id='fna_7' href='#f_7'><small>[7]</small></a></p> - -<p>These poor servitors did not feel any touch of shame or degradation at -having to clean boots and perform all the other dirty work of the place. -Why should they? Their poverty at Oxford was in no way different from that -in which they lived previously to their arrival at Oxford. It was merely a -change in locality. For they came, as has been shown, from plough and -public-house.</p> - -<p>There are many instances to show to what great use some of them put the -education which they managed to acquire during their servitorship. Sir -John Birkenhead was a servitor at Oriel, and during that period of his -afterwards noteworthy career, his brother was a trooper. It was only -through the kindheartedness of a patron that Bishop Robinson became the -servitor of Sir James Astrey at Brasenose. He was afterwards appointed to -a Fellowship at Oriel, was sent as an envoy to Sweden, and became Bishop -both of Bristol and London. In the days of his fame he was able to repay -in some sort the kindness of his patron by granting his son a chaplaincy; -and his love for the university is shown by the scholarships which he -founded at Oriel.</p> - -<p>Can Ruskin Hall point proudly to a son who has achieved such fame as -either of these ex-servitors?</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> -<p class="title">SPORTS AND ATHLETICS</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Rowing—Dame Hooper’s—Southey at Balliol—Cox’s six-oared crew—The -riverside barmaid—Sailing-boats—Statutes against -games—Bell-ringing—Hearne and gymnasia—Horses and -badger-baiting—Cock-fights and prize-fights—Paniotti’s Fencing -Academy—Old-time “bug-shooters‗Skating in Christ Church -meadows—Cricket and the Bullingdon Club—Walking tours.</p></div> - - -<p>It would be impossible to live in Oxford and be healthy—except perhaps in -the summer term, if we are lucky enough to have any sun—without taking -exercise. It has long been a matter of wonder how those men keep fit who, -with the excuse of “having a heart†neither row, play soccer, rugger, -hockey, or any other of the strenuous games which keep the average -Undergraduate sound in wind and limb. As a matter of fact they don’t. For -the “heart-y†gentlemen almost invariably take as many week-ends out of -Oxford as possible, and in most cases retire comfortably and ingloriously -to the paternal establishment and maternal care long before term is over. -The others, the normal people, the devotees of bone and muscle, the -“muddied oafs and flannelled fools‗(which is the only mistake Mr Kipling -ever made)—are never ill, at least from climatic effects. They may strain -something, or even break a few bones, but that cannot be put down to the -Oxford weather. The best doctors on earth, or rather the best -preventatives against illness—and there is a great difference—are the -river, the football and hunting fields, and the boxing ring, and as we -find these things to be true to-day so in old times, when wigs and ruffles -were somewhat of a handicap to the taking of hard exercise, these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -remedies against the Oxford climate were adopted with almost the same -keenness. The word almost is used advisedly because the percentage of -“bloods†who did nothing strenuous was far larger, and the possibilities -in things sporting were not nearly so great. We have changed all that, and -can afford a smile of condescension when, seated on the alleviating -pontius in a “Rough†eight, with its simple-looking sliding seat, its -hair-thick outer shell and its wonderful travelling possibilities, we -think of the heavy gigs and six-oared boats into which our predecessors -“tumbled,†clad in catskin caps and leather trousers.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless the river was just as popular then though for quite different -reasons. There were no rowing Blues to be had in those days; no presidents -of boat clubs—no boat clubs even. There was only Dame Hooper’s—an -odd-looking, tumble-down, shed-like place, where the gownsmen blarneyed -the old lady and hired out skiffs, gigs, cutters, and canoes. Unlike our -togger men who, like strange hairy creatures from another planet, -hatlessly converge from all parts of the town through the Broad Walk to -the Barges, emitting yards of muscular leg for all the world to view in -amusement and admiration, the eighteenth-century wet-bobs went down to the -river in square—or, as they called it, trencher—and gown. But Dame -Hooper was old, unskittish, and trustworthy, and so they threw off their -academical garb in her shed and arrayed themselves in the trousers, -jackets, and caps which were then the thing. It might well be thought that -these were a great hindrance to correct ’varsity swinging. But they did -not worry their heads about that—there was no boat race to be taken into -agitated consideration—and it has been left for 1911 to pour out its -bleeding heart in vehement controversy anent the true ’varsity style as -opposed to the new fangled Belgian method. In those days the motto was air -and exercise. Now, dare it be said, the river is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> business, a -profession, to which are consecrated all the waking moments, and many of -those which we should like to dedicate to bed, of our whole university -careers.</p> - -<p>Southey, who was, oddly enough, a Balliol man, said that he only learned -two things at Oxford—to swim and to row. After he went down he wrote the -following description of the river:—</p> - -<p>“A number of pleasure boats were gliding in all directions upon this clear -and rapid stream; some with spread sails; in others the caps and tassels -of the students formed a curious contrast with their employment at the -oar. Many of the smaller boats had only a single person in each; and in -some of these he sat face forward, leaning back as in a chair, and plying -with both hands a double-bladed oar in alternate strokes, so that his -motion was like the path of a serpent. One of these canoes is, I am -assured, so exceedingly light, that a man can carry it; but few persons -are skilful or venturous enough to use it.â€<a name='fna_8' id='fna_8' href='#f_8'><small>[8]</small></a></p> - -<p>It would be well worth while to watch the face of one of these timid -canoers if we could bring him down to the barges to-day to one of the -“rag†regattas and show him scores of “venturous persons†who not only -dispense with paddles, but dash about in a Canadian canoe with a punt -pole.</p> - -<p>G. V. Cox told us that in 1790 there were no races, but that “men went to -Nuneham for occasional parties in six-oared boats (eight-oared boats were -then unknown), but these boats belonged to the boat people; the crew was a -mixed crew got up for the day, and the dresses worn anything but uniform. -I belonged to a crew of five, who were, I think, the first distinguished -by a peculiar (and what would now be thought a ridiculous) dress, viz., a -green leather cap, with a jacket and trousers of nankeen!â€<a name='fna_9' id='fna_9' href='#f_9'><small>[9]</small></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>There are many recent boat club presidents who proudly show souvenirs of -love passages with every barmaid from Folly Bridge to Abingdon, and up the -Cher to Water Eaton. The fair damsels of the Cherwell Hotel are indeed the -sole reasons why hordes of Undergraduates punt out there to lunch on -Sundays, when they might just as easily, and far less expensively, take -luncheon baskets with them—as they do if their people are up! But there -is nothing original in all this. The same touch of old Adam existed in the -coffee-house period, as is shown by the following lines:—</p> - -<p class="poem">“We visit Sandford next and there<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Beckley provides accustomed fare</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Of eels and perch and brown beef-steak....</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whilst Hebe-like his daughter waits,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Froths our full bumpers, changes plates.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The pretty handmaid’s anxious toils</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Meanwhile our mutual praise beguiles,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whilst she, delighted, blushing sees</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The bill o’erpaid and pockets fees</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Supplied for ribbon or for lace</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To deck her bonnet or her face.â€</span></p> - -<p>To-day Hebe has become <i>blasé</i> and cannot blush with any readiness, nor is -she so anxious in her toils. The chaste salute and the overpaid bill are -features of our own time, and will remain, from generation to generation, -as long as Oxford is a university, and there are hotels on the Cher. The -same poet goes on to describe the way in which he was taught to sail by a -friend who was already an expert.</p> - -<p class="poem">“At Folly Bridge we hoist the sail,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And briskly scud before the gale</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To Iffley—where our course awhile</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Detain—its locks and Saxon pile</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Affording pause; to recommend</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The Hobby-horse unto my friend.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Our light-built galley; ours I say</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Since Warren bears an equal sway</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In her command; as first, in cost</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The half he shared; himself a host</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whether he plies the limber oar</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Or tows the vessel from the shore;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Or strains the main sheet tight astern</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Close to the wind; of him I learn</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Patient to wait the time exact</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">When jib and foresail should be back’d</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To bring her round; or mark the strain</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The boat on gunwale can sustain</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Without aught danger of upsetting,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Or giving both her mates a wetting.â€<a name='fna_10' id='fna_10' href='#f_10'><small>[10]</small></a></span></p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img08tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img08.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">North View of Friar Bacon’s Study at Oxford.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>A glance at the statutes shows that the river was almost the only form of -athletics then permissible, for the prohibited sports included “every kind -of game in which money is concerned, such as dibs, dice, cards, cricketing -in private grounds or gardens of the townspeople ... every kind of game or -exercise from which danger, injury, or inconvenience might arise to other -people, such as hunting of beasts with any sort of dogs, ferrets, nets or -toils, also any use or carrying of muskets, cross-bows, or falchions; -neither rope-dancers nor actors, nor shows of gladiators are to be -permitted without especial sanction; moreover, the scholars are not to -play at football, nor with cudgels, either among themselves or with the -townsfolk, a practice from which the most perilous contentions have -arisen.â€</p> - -<p>During the earlier half of the century, bell ringing was a form of -amusement—and exercise—which was very largely indulged in. At any hour -of the day it was the custom to go up into the belfry and practice, with -such zest that the ringer sometimes fell from sheer exhaustion. Hearne was -known to take a keen interest in the matches<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> which were sometimes -arranged between different peals of bells, while Antony Wood, some years -before, had joined with his mother and brothers in subscribing towards the -foundation of the Merton bells and, as Wordsworth says, “though they were -not satisfactory to the ‘curious and critical hearer,’ he plucked at them -often with some of his fellow-collegians for recreation sake.†Later on, -however, this practice was generally voted boring and even vulgar, and the -more “aristocratic door bell and knocker ringing†succeeded it. Hearne -himself was pleased to countenance bell-ringing, yet when a proposal was -afoot to found “an academy of exercise in the university such as riding -the great horse, fencing, etc.,†he would not hear of it or entertain the -idea for a moment. “I think,†said he, “’twould have utterly obstructed -all true learning.â€</p> - -<p>Horses, in spite of Hearne, were popular among Dons and Undergraduates. -The “Female Student,†writing a letter to <i>The Student</i>, summed up the -tastes of a Master of Arts as consisting of “the college-hall, the -common-room, the coffee-house, and now and then a ride to the -Gog-magog-hills.†The now and then was probably accounted for by the -expensiveness attaching to the hobby. There were, however, several -stable-keepers at the time who, starting with a diminutive capital, -retired after a very few years in the business with large fortunes. G. V. -Cox, the member of the crew in nankeen trousers, says that it was quite a -usual thing “for a gentleman (the Oxford tradesman’s designation of a -member of the university) to ride a match against time to London and back -again to Oxford (108 miles) in twelve hours or less with, of course, -relays of horses at regular intervals. In one instance this was done in -eight hours and forty-five minutes.... Betting was, no doubt, the first -and chief motive; a foolish vanity the second; the third cause was the -absence at that time in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> university of a better mode of proving pluck -and taming down the animal spirits of non-reading youngsters.... Hunting -then, as now, was an expensive amusement, only to be enjoyed by the few, -and by them only for a part of the year; racing had not then been thought -of ... but a gentleman need not learn to ride like a jockey.â€<a name='fna_11' id='fna_11' href='#f_11'><small>[11]</small></a></p> - -<p>Sir Erasmus Philipps must, therefore, have been a monied man, for in 1720, -when he was a Fellow-commoner of Pembroke, his outdoor sports took the -form of fox-hunting, attending cock-fights and horse-races, and riding to -Woodstock, Godstow, and Nuneham. Many of the horse-races took place on -Port Meadow. Terrae Filius, referring to “that famous apartment by idle -wits and buffoons nick-named Golgotha, <i>i.e.</i>, the place of Sculls or -Heads of Colleges and Halls where they meet and debate upon all -extraordinary affairs which occur within the precincts of their -jurisdiction,†says that “this room of state or academical council chamber -is adorn’d with a fine pourtrait of her late Majesty Queen Anne, which was -presented to this assembly by a jolly fox-hunter in the neighbourhood, out -of the tender regard which he bore to her pious memory, and to the -reverend Sculls of the university, who preside there; for which -benefaction they have admitted him into their company, and allow him the -honour to smoak a pipe with them twice a week.â€</p> - -<p>In one of the papers of <i>The Loiterer</i> the writer described how Dr -Villars, Mr Sensitive, and himself went for a country walk and talk to Joe -Pullen’s Tree. “As soon as we had reached this elevated situation, and -cast our eyes over the well-known view, a general silence took place for -some minutes. It was indeed a day for meditation. The sun emerging by fits -and starts from the grey fleckered clouds which overspread the whole -atmosphere, illuminated the projecting points<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> of Magdalen and Merton -Towers, and shot its lengthened gleams across the pastures and meads, -which extend themselves in a long level to the north of the city, while -the woody hills of Wytham, rising boldly from behind a flat country, threw -over the whole background a broad mass of dark shadows broken only here -and there by a white sail, whose almost imperceptible motion just marked -the various turns and windings of the river.... A large party of very -dashing men rode by, mounted on cropt ponies, and followed by no -inconsiderable number of Tarriers. Of all sorts, sizes, and colours; and -as they did not ride very fast, and talked rather loud, we easily -discovered that the object of this grand cavalcade had been a -badger-baiting on Bullingdon Green; in the event of which combat they -seemed greatly interested, and were settling the merits of their different -dogs with great clamour, and not without some altercation.†The solemn -statutes did not seem to worry those optimistic sportsmen overmuch on that -glorious summer day.</p> - -<p>Bull-baiting and cock-fighting, both, in their time, exceedingly popular -at the university were strongly put down by the authorities. One gathers -that it was usual at these affairs to start a free fight after the show, -in which the town and gown partisans did their best to kill or maim each -other for life. All things duly considered, therefore, it was, perhaps, a -wise step on the part of the Dons to forbid such affairs. Dr Rawlinson -made a regretful reference to one of these pitched battles: “A great -disturbance between the scholars of the university and the townsmen of -Heddington at a bull-baiting, at which some scholars were beaten.†-Considering the tender years of most of the freshmen it is a matter for -great congratulation that they made such good stands against the -bullet-headed townees. They could not have done so but for the fact that -boxing was much followed among ’varsity men. They were to a large extent -keen patrons of the noble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> art of self-defence, and the chief instructors -about the year 1729 were none other than the celebrated Broughton and -Figg, who ran a saloon in London. The fact that this boxing academy was -far away from Oxford did not preclude the keenest pugilists from -journeying up to take lessons. Amhurst came across a crowd of -Undergraduates in an Oxford coffee-house one night just after Mendoza had -won a famous victory, and he was vastly entertained to hear their keenly -excited discussion of every lead and stop and hook and counter and to see -them turning and twisting their bodies in pugilistic attitudes in -illustration of the professional manner of planting each separate blow. -They seemed to know as much about the fight as if they had been present.</p> - -<p>In December 1729 the Mayor of Oxford licensed a prize fight to be held in -the town. Crowds attended in the assurance of a good morning’s sport, but -at the last moment the Vice-Chancellor, a book-ridden, pompous, crusty old -curmudgeon, filled with the dignity of his office, appeared on the scene -and succeeded in putting a stop to it. It was a miracle that the assembled -multitude did not tear his robes off his back and put him in the ring to -stand up to one of the bruisers.</p> - -<p>In spite of Hearne’s prognostication that the establishment of a fencing -academy would be the death of all true learning, an academy was started -some years later by a Greek of the name of Paniotti. He was “full of -sentiments of honour and courage, and of most independent spirit.†R. L. -Edgeworth was a keen pupil of Paniotti, and it was at his school that he -became friends with Sir James M‘Donald, who was “one of the greatest -scholars and mathematicians of his time.†Their friendship was of short -duration, however, as Sir James died at Rome some five years later.</p> - -<p>Edgeworth has an interesting story about this fencing establishment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> “Mr -L., a young gentleman of a noble family and of abilities, but of -overbearing manners, was our fellow pupil under Paniotti. At the same -school we met a young man of small fortune, and in a subordinate position -at Maudlin.</p> - -<p>“He fenced in a regular way, and much better than Mr L., who, in revenge, -would sometimes take a stiff foil that our master used for parrying, and -pretending to fence, would thrust it with great violence against his -antagonist. The young man submitted for some time to this foul play, but -at last he appealed to Paniotti, and to such of his pupils as were -present. Paniotti, though he had expectancies from the patronage of the -father of his nobly-born pupil, yet without hesitation condemned his -conduct. One day, in defiance of L.’s bullying pride, I proposed to fence -with him, armed as he was with this unbending foil, on condition that he -should not thrust at my face; but at the very first opportunity he drove -the foil into my mouth. I went to the door, broke off the buttons of two -foils, turned the key in the lock, and offered one of these extemporaneous -swords to my antagonist, who very prudently declined the invitation. This -person afterwards showed through life an unprincipled and cowardly -disposition.â€<a name='fna_12' id='fna_12' href='#f_12'><small>[12]</small></a></p> - -<p>While on the subject of fighting it is interesting to note that there were -such things as ’varsity “bug-shooters†even in those times, whose keenness -was far greater than that of the majority of the O.U.O.T.C., who slack -through just sufficient drills to enable them to put in a fortnight’s -camping in summer. G. V. Cox says that there were “enrolled about five -hundred, commanded by Mr Coker of Bicester, formerly Fellow of New -College. Such indeed was the zeal and spirit called forth in those -stirring times by the threat of invasion that even clerical members did -not hesitate to join the ranks.... Some also of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> the most respectable of -the college servants were enrolled with their masters.... The dress or -uniform was of a very heavy character but also very imposing: a blue coat -(rather short but somewhat more than a jacket) faced with white duck -pantaloons, with a black leathern strap or garter below the knee, and -short black cloth gaiters. The headdress was also heavy; a beaver -round-headed hat surmounted by a formidable roll of bear-skin or something -of the kind.â€<a name='fna_13' id='fna_13' href='#f_13'><small>[13]</small></a></p> - -<p>Several years after the above incident in Paniotti’s fencing school, an -article appeared in <i>The Student</i>. It was a fantastic account of “Several -Public Buildings in Oxford never before described†and contained the -following:—</p> - -<p>“The several gymnasia constructed for the exercise of our youth, and a -relaxation from their severer studies, are not so much frequented as -formerly, especially in the summer; our ingenious gownsmen having found -out several sports which conduce to the same end, such as battle-door and -shuttle-cock, swinging on the rope, etc., in their apartments; or, in the -fields, leap-frog, tag, hop-step-and-jump, and among the rest, skittles; -which last is a truly academical exercise, as it is founded on -arithmetical and geometrical principles.â€</p> - -<p>Skinner, the poet, who sailed his yacht down to Sandford and rowed in Dame -Hooper’s boats, seems to have been quite an all-round man.</p> - -<p class="poem">“If day prove only passing fair<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I walk for exercise and air</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Or for an hour skate,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For a large space of flooded ground</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Which Christ Church gravel walks surround</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Has solid froze of late.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span><br /> -“Here graceful gownsmen silent glide,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Or noisy louts on hobnails slide,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Whilst lads the confines keep</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Exacting pence from every one</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">As payment due for labour done</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As constantly they sweep.â€</span></p> - -<p>His touch of “side†is not unfunny—the graceful ’varsity man is a picture -of all culture, while the townee is a lout because he slides on vulgar -hobnails. On several of the bard’s sailing expeditions, after they had -dined chez Beckley, and duly tipped the girl,</p> - -<p class="poem">“A game of quoits will oft our stay<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Awhile at Sandford Inn delay;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Or rustic nine-pins; then once more</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">We hoist our sail, and tug the oar.â€<a name='fna_14' id='fna_14' href='#f_14'><small>[14]</small></a></span></p> - -<p>He must doubtless have looked down upon his fellow quill driver in <i>The -Student</i> as several parts of a fool for thinking rustic nine-pins “a truly -academical exercise, as it is founded on arithmetical and geometrical -principles.â€</p> - -<p>Cricket and tennis were not of much account. The Lownger described his -going after dinner to tennis, returning in time for chapel</p> - -<p class="poem">“From the Coffee House then I to Tennis away,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And at six I post back to my college to pray,â€</span></p> - -<p>while G. V. Cox, in his “Recollections,†remembered that “the game of -cricket was kept up chiefly by the young men from Winchester and Eton, and -was confined to the old Bullingdon Club, which was expensive and -exclusive. The members of it, however, with the exception of a few who -kept horses, did not mind walking to and fro.â€<a name='fna_15' id='fna_15' href='#f_15'><small>[15]</small></a></p> - -<p>As a rather less strenuous form of exercise than eighteenth-century<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -cricket many men kept themselves fit by walking. Wordsworth points out -that “in 1799 Daniel Wilson writes to his father, that very few days -passed when he did not walk for about an hour.†This exceedingly gentle -form of pedestrianism was only an end of century hobby. Earlier on men -seem to have been made of sterner stuff. The Greek Professor at Aberdeen, -Dr Thomas Blackwell, wrote to Warburton at Oxford in 1736 to beg him to -accompany Middleton and their common friend, Mr Gale, in a tour in -Scotland for two months in the summer during the long vacation. “In 1742 -Tho. Townson started for a three years’ tour in France, Italy, Germany, -and Holland, with Dawkins, Drake, and Holdsworth. On his return from the -continent,†the quotation is from Christopher Wordsworth, “he resumed in -College (Magdalen) the arduous and respectable employment of tuition, in -which he had been engaged before he went abroad. William Wordsworth took -walking tours in France 1790-91 (at a time no less awfully interesting -than that which the country has now been passing through) before and after -taking his degree.†In the first instance he was accompanied by his -college friend Robert Jones, with about twenty pounds apiece in their -pockets. “Our coats which we had made light on purpose for that journey -are of the same piece,†he wrote, “and our manner of carrying our bundles -which is upon our heads, with each an oak stick in our hands, contributes -not a little to the general curiosity which we seem to excite.â€</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img09tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img09.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A Duck Hunt.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Had they but carried more money and travelled in luxury they would not -have been unlike the present-day Rhodes men, whose custom it is during -vacation to scour the ends of the earth.</p> - -<p>Inter-college and inter-’varsity athletic meetings were undreamed of in -the eighteenth century. Because Georgian Oxford men could not boast -representative colours, however, is no proof that they were not sportsmen. -It would be impossible to find a set of men in any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> century more ready for -deeds of daring do. They rode straight and ate hearty. They broke rules -and defied statutes with a zest that suggests anarchism. In spite of wigs -and ruffles they sped like hares down back alleys and scaled the high -college walls like monkeys to avoid a conversation with the Proctors and -their bulldogs. They sallied forth in trencher and gown, the insignia of -their allegiance to <i>Alma mater</i>, and in sheer high spirits set themselves -to bring about a fight with the jeering townees. Back to back they fought -against all odds, recking little of bleeding noses and broken pates. If -they drank too freely and encouraged the toasts, the blame was not -entirely theirs. They did but follow the fashion of the times. Their -password was thoroughness. Whatever they did, they did with all their -might. If they rang bells, they made the air hideous until they fell -exhausted. If they collected knockers they stripped a whole street before -their energy waned. If they slacked they slacked superbly. Without any of -the advantages brought about by modern ideas and inventions, our -predecessors were sportsmen to the core and just as we to-day employ every -moment of our four years to the fullest advantage so did the men who trod -Oxford streets in wigs and laces when she was two centuries younger.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> -<p class="title">CLUBS AND SOCIETIES</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">The foregathering fresher—Dibdin and the “Lunatics‗The Constitution -Club—The Oxford Poetical Club—Its rules and minutes—High -Borlace—The Freecynics and Banterers.</p></div> - - -<p>Year by year the places of those who go down are filled by succeeding -generations of public school men—men who are more conservative in ideas -than the members of any other class of society. Their immediate ambitions -are limited to achieving a Blue, capturing the presidency of the Union or -winning one of the big university prizes.</p> - -<p>They take things as they find them, and very rarely try to launch out on -new lines. They early discover that gregariousness is one of the chief -characteristics of an Oxford man. They find it exhibited in the -extraordinary number of clubs and societies in each college. Their natural -conservatism convinces them that as the forming of clubs is co-existent -with university life, they must not hesitate to follow the admirable -example of their seniors. With the untiring enthusiasm of youth they -concentrate their brains and energies therefore to the formation of new -clubs—having already become members of a great percentage of the -long-founded university clubs which are open to them. They make the -epoch-making discovery that many of their members have cut and dried ideas -on politics, and that others are big with new theories on social -conditions and the education of the masses. Heedless of the fact that in -reality these new theories and political arguments have been discussed and -thrashed out by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> thousands of Oxford men before they were born, they begin -in their obsession to institute new clubs—political, musical, literary, -debating, social, poetical—clubs of all kinds and conditions. They -cultivate gregariousness, if it is not already temperamental, as one of -the cardinal virtues. They foregather in each other’s rooms nightly, -consume tremendous quantities of tobacco, cake, and coffee, and abide -feverishly by every rule of the particular society of which they are the -founders.</p> - -<p>In the eighteenth century the men were just as fond of foregathering; but -they laboured under severe disadvantages in connection with the -authorities, who looked upon the formation of clubs and societies as -something new and consequently revolutionary and dangerous. As an instance -of the hide-bound conservatism of the moss-grown powers that were I cannot -do better than take the case of Dibdin and the “Lunatics,†a club which -was inaugurated at the very end of the eighteenth century. “Several -members of several colleges (in the number of whom I was as proud as happy -to be enlisted),†wrote Dibdin, “met frequently at each other’s rooms, to -talk over and to concoct a code of laws or of regulations for the -establishment of a society to be called a ‘Society for Scientific and -Literary Disquisition.’ It comprehended a debate and an essay, to be -prepared by each member in succession, studiously avoiding, in both, all -topics of religious and political controversy. There was not the slightest -attempt to beat down any one barrier of university law of regulation -throughout our whole code. We were to meet in a hired room, at a private -house, and were to indulge in our favourite themes in the most -unrestrained manner, without giving ingress to a single stranger. Over and -over again was each law revised, corrected, and endeavoured to be rendered -as little objectionable as possible. At length, after the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> final touches, -we demanded an interview with the Vice-Chancellors and Proctors; and our -founder, William George Maton, of Queen’s College, Messrs Stoddart, -Whitelock, Falconer (of Christ Church, Queen’s and Corpus Colleges) were -deputed to meet the great men in office, and to report accordingly.</p> - -<p>“Dr Wills was then Vice-Chancellor.... He received the deputation in the -most courteous manner, and requested that the laws might be left with him, -as much for his own particular and careful examination as for that of -other heads of houses or officers whom he might choose to consult. His -request was as readily complied with, and a day was appointed when the -answer of the oracle might be obtained. In about a week, according to -agreement, the same deputation was received within the library of the -Vice-Chancellor who, after solemnly returning the volume (containing the -laws) into the hands of our worthy founder, addressed them pretty nearly -in the following words: ‘Gentlemen, there does not appear to be anything -in these laws subversive of academic discipline, or contrary to the -statutes of the university—but (ah, that ill-omened But!) as it is -impossible to predict how they may operate, and as innovations of this -sort, and in these times, may have a tendency which may be as little -anticipated as it may be distressing to the framers of such laws, I am -compelled, in the exercise of my magisterial authority, as -Vice-Chancellor, to interdict your meeting in the manner proposed’‗and -then one can see him ringing for the servant to show them out, with a -polite smile on his fat face, in the usual red-tape manner. As, however, -the deputation was prepared for something of this sort they merely retired -politely, breathing murders and slaughterings against the archaism of the -institution of Vice-Chancellor. Returning to their room, they came to the -conclusion that as they did not intend to be beaten “there was,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -therefore, one result to adopt—one choice left; and that was, to carry -the object, so dear to our hearts, into effect within our private -apartments in rotation. There we might discuss, debate, and hear essays -read <i>ad infinitum</i>; and, accordingly, our first meeting took place in -Queen’s College, at the rooms of our founder, afterwards so long and so -well known in the medical world as Dr Maton.â€<a name='fna_16' id='fna_16' href='#f_16'><small>[16]</small></a></p> - -<p>After this preliminary check from the Vice-Chancellor, who, in charity be -it said, probably could not help himself, and was only doing his duty -according to his lights, the club throve like a bay tree and became -exceedingly famous. “Our society was quickly enlarged, and the present -Bishop of Llandaff, then a student of Corpus College, and the Rev. John -Horseman, afterwards a tutor in the same college, were enrolled members. -The two Moncrieffs of Baliol were also among our earlier acquisitions, and -some gentlemen commoners of Trinity College (whose name I have forgotten) -together with my oldest, and among my most valued friends, Mr Barwis of -Queen’s, Mr Gibson (afterwards called Riddell) of Worcester, and George -Foster of Lincoln—all united to give strength and respectability to our -association. Our meetings were frequent and full. The essays after having -been read, were entered in a book; and I am not sure whether, at this very -day, such book be not in existence. The subjects of debate usually were, -as of old they ever had been, whether the merits or demerits of such a -character (Cæsar or Queen Elizabeth, for instance) were the greater? Or -whether the good or evil of such a measure in legislation or in politics, -the more predominent. Of our speakers, the elder Moncrieff, and George -Forster of Lincoln were doubtless the most fluent and effective; -especially the latter, who had a fervency of utterance which was at times -surprising. But the younger Moncrieff,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> in course of time, followed his -brother, <i>passibus aequis</i>. Taking the art of speaking and the composition -of an essay together, I think Mr (now Sir John) Stoddart of Christ Church -beat us all. He was always upon his legs, a fearless opponent, and in the -use of a pen the most unpremeditating and successful....</p> - -<p>“Meanwhile the fame of our club, or society, began to be noised abroad; -and those who felt no inclination to write essays, or to impose upon -themselves the toil of reading and research for the purpose of making a -speech, were pretty free in using sneering epithets, and in stigmatising -by nicknames. There was, however, <i>one</i> nickname which we instantly and -courageously took to ourselves and adopted—and that was the ‘Lunatics.’ -Mad, indeed we were, and desired so to be called—if an occasional -deviation from dull and hard drinking, frivolous gossip, and Boeotian -uproar, could justify that appellation.â€</p> - -<p>Undoubtedly the origin of present-day first year societies, which, unlike -the “Lunatics,†are nearly always ephemeral affairs, may be found in the -recollections of Richard Graves, in which, referring to William Shenstone, -he says, “Our more familiar acquaintance commenced by an invitation from -Mr Shenstone to breakfast at his chambers, which we accepted; and which, -according to the sociable disposition of most young people, was protracted -to a late hour; during which, Mr Shenstone, I remember, in order to detain -us, produced Cotton’s ‘Virgil Travestie,’ which he had lately met with; -and which, though full of indelicacies and low humour, is certainly a most -laughable performance. I displayed my slender stock of critical knewledge -by applauding, as a work of equal humour, Echard’s ‘Causes of the Contempt -of the Clergy.’ Mr Whistler, who was a year or two older than either of -us, I believe, and had finished his school education at Eton, preferred -Pope’s ‘Rape of the Lock,’ as a higher species of humour than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> anything we -had produced. In short, this morning’s lounge, which seemed mutually -agreeable, was succeeded by frequent repetitions of them; and at length, -by our meeting likewise, almost every evening, at each other’s chambers -the whole summer, where we read plays and poetry, <i>Spectators</i> and -<i>Tatlers</i>, and other works of easy digestion, and sipped Florence -wine.â€<a name='fna_17' id='fna_17' href='#f_17'><small>[17]</small></a></p> - -<p>There were many famous clubs in the eighteenth century, each of which had -an individuality of its own. Just as the “Lunatics†was literary and -debating, the Constitution Club was political and aggressive, the Oxford -Poetical Club considered itself really poetical, and the High Borlace was -purely social and jovial.</p> - -<p>The Constitution Club had its headquarters at the King’s Head Tavern in -the High. Its members “included five fellows, a chaplain and four -gentlemen commoners of New College, one gentleman commoner and seven -others of Oriel, three of Christ Church; Hart Hall, Worcester, All Souls, -Merton, St John’s, Trinity, and Wadham contributed at least one member -each—usually a gentleman commoner.â€<a name='fna_18' id='fna_18' href='#f_18'><small>[18]</small></a> The motives of its institution -were, according to Amhurst, as follows: “The society took its rise from -the iniquity of the times, and was intended to promote and cultivate -friendship between all such persons as favour’d our present happy -constitution; they thought themselves obliged openly and publickly to avow -their loyalty, and manifest their sincere affection to King George upon -all proper and becoming occasions, and to check, as much as in them lay, -the vast torrent of treason and dissaffection which overflow’d the -university. They thought it their duty to show all possible marks of -respect to those faithful officers, who were so seasonably sent to that -place, by the favour of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> the government, to protect the quiet part of -the king’s subjects, and to suppress the tumultuary practices of the -profess’d enemies to his majesty’s person and government; and for -constantly adhering to what they thought their duty in those points; and -for no other cause, that they can apprehend, they have been so unfortunate -as to become obnoxious to the university, and to feel, many of them, the -severe effects of their resentments.â€</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img10tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img10.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A Western View of All Souls College.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>How much truth there is in this account of the lofty aims and patriotic -ambitions of this club, and whether Amhurst was one of the St John’s men -who were members, and consequently had his facts first hand, or whether it -is merely an account written round one or two of the club’s actions, it is -impossible to ascertain. At any rate Amhurst seems to have dropped his -sarcasm, and to have written straightforwardly and sincerely on their -behalf. So that it is only fair to conclude that they had these objects, -more or less, in view. In proof of his statements Christopher Wordsworth -tells us that “on the king’s birthday, the 28th of May aforesaid, the -whole body of the Constitution Club met together at a tavern and ordered -the windows of the house to be illuminated, and some faggots to be -prepared for a bonfire. But before the bonfire could be lighted, a very -numerous mob, which was hired for that purpose, tore to pieces the -faggots, and then assaulted the room where the club was sitting, with -brickbats and stones. All the time that the mob was thus employed, the -disaffected scholars, who had crowded the houses and streets near the -tavern, continued throwing up their caps and scattering money amongst the -rabble and shouting, ‘Down with the Constitutioners; down with the Whigs; -no George; James for ever; Ormond, Bolingbroke,’ etc.... The -Constitutioners thought it prudent to make the best of their way to their -colleges for the night. On the Sunday<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> the club met again at Oriel, and -were the objects of the indignation of the mob, who thronged the streets -at six o’clock. A Brasenose man was wounded by a gunshot fired by one of -the Constitutioners, or their friends in Oriel, after which the crowd -retired to pull down the conventicles.†(This account of the affair is -given as being less biassed than Amhurst’s, which, in substance, is -identical, but does not tally in one or two details.)</p> - -<p>The fat was consequently sizzling noisily in the fire. The whole place -discussed nothing else for days. Prosecutions were hourly made in the -Vice-Chancellor’s court. The grand jury of Oxfordshire made a -“presentment†in no ordered terms against the Constitutioners, who also -met with “unjust and scandalous usage†in St Mary’s, Golgotha, the -Theatre, Convocation House, and the Schools, which all rang with -“invectives and anathemas against them.... Even those grave tools, the -Vice-Chancellor and Proctors, to enliven their dull harangues, and gain -the applause of the subordinate rabble, never fail’d, in their most solemn -speeches before the convocation, to fall foul and heavy on the -Constitution Club.†The noise of the affair reached as far as the ears of -the King himself, and “rattling letters†were sent to the Vice-Chancellor.</p> - -<p>The Oxford Poetical Club was very famous in 1721. To obtain any accurate -idea of its constitution and objects it is necessary to strike the happy -mean between the accounts of it which are given by Amhurst and Erasmus -Philipps. The latter recorded in his diary that on 17th August of that -year he “went with Mr Tristram to the Poetical Club (whereof he is a -member) at the Tuns, kept by Mr Broadgate, where met Dr Evans, Fellow of -St John’s, and Mr Jno. Jones, Fellow of Balliol, members of the club. -Subscribed 5s. to Dr Evans’s ‘Hymen and Juno’ (which one merrily call’d -Evans’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> Bubble, it being now South Sea Time). Drank Galicia wine, and was -entertained with two Fables of the Doctor’s composition, which were indeed -masterly in their kind; but the Doctor is allowed to have a peculiar -knack, and to excell all mankind at a Fable.â€<a name='fna_19' id='fna_19' href='#f_19'><small>[19]</small></a></p> - -<p>Amhurst, by no means a respecter of persons, devoted two papers to -ridiculing the poetry club, from which I cull the following: “Divers -eminent and most ingenious gentlemen, true lovers and judges of poetry, -having with great grief observ’d that noble art declining in Oxford (its -antient seat and fountain) resolv’d, if possible, to restore it to its -pristine vigour and glory. They justly apprehended, both from reason and -experience, that a critical lecture, once a term, though never so -judicious, was not sufficient; and that the theory of any art was -defective without the practice; and, therefore, they thought the best -method to forward this design would be to institute a weekly meeting of -the finest geniuses and <i>beaux esprits</i> of the university, at a certain -place, to be appointed by them, where they might debate the cause of -poetry, and put its laws into regular execution. This proposal was -immediately assented to; and the next question was, where to meet?</p> - -<p>“This occasioned a short debate, some speaking in favour of the King’s -Head, and some declaring for the Crown; but they were both opposed by -others, who presum’d that the Three Tuns would suit them much better; in -which they carry’d their point, and the Three Tuns was thereupon nominated -the place of meeting, upon these two proviso’s, that Mr Broadgate would -keep good wine and a pretty wench at the bar; both which are by all -criticks allow’d to be of indispensable use in poetical operations.â€</p> - -<p>The alleged cause of this picturesque enumeration of imaginary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> details -was that several poems had appeared at that time in the newspapers with -the public sanction of the club. Terrae Filius immediately began to puzzle -his brain as to the membership of the club and its intentions. For a time -he admitted himself entirely baffled, but at last “chance, almighty -chance,†prospered his wishes. As the result of his enquiries he -discovered the rules of the society to be:—</p> - -<p>“1. That no person be admitted a member of this society, without Letters -Testimonial, to be sign’d by three persons of credit, that he has -distinguished himself in some tale, catch, sonnet, epigram, madrigal, -anagram, acrostick, tragedy, comedy, farce, or epick poem.</p> - -<p>“2. That no person be admitted a member of this society, who has any -visible way of living, or can spend five shillings per annum <i>de proprio</i>; -it being an established maxim, that no rich man can be a good poet.</p> - -<p>“3. That no member presume to discover the secrets of this society to any -body whatsoever, upon pain of expulsion.</p> - -<p>“4. That no member in any of his lucubrations do transgress the rules of -Aristotle, or any other sound critick, antient or modern, under pain of -having his said lucubrations burnt, in a full club, by the hands of the -small-beer drawer.</p> - -<p>“5. That no member do presume in any of his writings, to reflect on the -Church of England, as by law established, or either of the two famous -universities, or upon any magistrate or member of the same under pain of -having his said writings burnt as aforesaid and being himself expell’d.</p> - -<p>“6. That no tobacco be smoked in this society; the fumigation thereof -being supposed to cloud the poetical faculty, and to clog the subtle -wheels of the Imagination.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>“7. That no member do repeat any verses, without leave first had and -obtained from Mr President.</p> - -<p>“8. That no person be allowed above the space of one hour at a time to -repeat.</p> - -<p>“9. That no person do print any of his verses, without the approbation of -the major part of the society, under pain of expulsion.</p> - -<p>“10. That every member do subscribe his name to the foregoing articles.â€</p> - -<p>These rules, before finally settled upon, had been fully discussed. A -member, by name Dr Crassus, took strong objection to the smoking rule -because he was covered with a superfluity of adipose tissue, and held that -the use of tobacco “would carry off those noxious heavy particles which -turn the edge of his fancy, and obstruct his intellectual perspiration.†-He was backed up by a medical friend, and the result was that a special -exception was made in his sole favour. A second gentleman said that he -could not declare with a “safe conscience†that he was unable to spend -five shillings per annum <i>de proprio</i>; but the President ably settled the -point by observing that “as God is the sole author and disposer of all -Things, we cannot in strict sense, call any thing our own; nor say that we -have any visible way of living, our daily bread being the only bounty of -His invisible hand, and therefore you may, <i>salvâ conscientiâ</i>, declare -that you have no visible way of living; and that you cannot spend five -shillings per annum <i>de proprio</i>, though according to vain human -computation, you are worth five thousand pounds a year.†The final -objection raised, before the rules were at last suitably framed and hung -over the mantelpiece in the club-room, was that one of the gentlemen could -not subscribe to Rule 10. He could not write, and therefore could not -comply with the strict letter of the law. If, however, he could be allowed -to make his mark, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> whole difficulty could be settled out of hand. This -was agreed to without hesitation, “it being truly no uncommon Thing in -many an excellent poet.â€</p> - -<p>Not content with thus pouring ridicule upon their foundation and -institution, Amhurst, in his subsequent paper in which he described their -first meeting absolutely surpassed himself at their expense.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Minutes of the Oxford Poetical Club.</span></p> - -<p>“The members being met, and Mr President having assum’d the chair, -three preliminary bumpers pass’d round the board; after which Dr -Crassus, in pursuance of the power granted him, as mentioned in our -last, retir’d to a snug corner of the room where a little table was -placed for him, with pipes and tobacco upon it; then the doctor -handled his Arms; and as he was glazing his pipe with a Ball of -superfine wax, which he always carried in his pocket for that use, he -alarm’d the room with a sudden peal of laughter, which drew the eyes -of the assembly towards him, and made all of them very solicitous to -know the conceit which occasioned it; but the doctor was not, for -several minutes, able to do it, the fit continuing upon him, and -growing louder and louder; at last, when it began to intermit, he made -a shift to reveal the cause of his mirth thus:—</p> - -<p>“‘Why, gentlemen,’ said he,—‘ha! ha! ha!—why, gentlemen, I say the -prettiest Epigram! ha! ha! ha! I cannot tell you for my life—I have -made, I say, upon this ball of wax here, ha! ha! ha!—that you ever -heard in your lives. Shall I repeat it, Mr President?’</p> - -<p>“‘By all means, doctor,’ said he; ‘no body more proper to open the -assembly than Doctor Crassus!’</p> - -<p>“Then the doctor compos’d his countenance, and standing up, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> the -ball of wax in his right hand, pronounc’d the following distich with -an heroick emphasis.</p> - -<p class="poem">“‘This wax, d’ye see, with which my pipe I glaze,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: .5em;">Is the best wax I ever us’d in all my days.’</span></p> - -<p>“‘Ha! ha! ha! How d’ye like it, gentlemen ha! ha! ha! Is it not very -pretty gentlemen?’</p> - -<p>“‘Very pretty, without flattery, doctor,’ said they all; ‘very -excellent, indeed.’</p> - -<p>“Upon which the doctor smiled pleasantly, and lighted his pipe.... -During the first part of the night their thoughts were something -gloomy and run upon elegies and epitaphs upon living as well as dead -men; but you will find them brighten up as the night advance and the -bottles increase. They begin with satire and funeral lamentation; but -end with love, smuttiness and a song‗and there I will leave them.</p></div> - -<p>The High Borlace was a Tory club which, says Christopher Wordsworth, “had -a convivial meeting held annually at the King’s Head Tavern in Oxford, on -the 18th of August (or, if that fell on a Sunday, on the 19th, as in -1734), on which occasion Dr Leigh, Master of Balliol, was of the High -Borlace and the first clergyman who had attended. It seems to have been -patronised by the county families, and it is not improbable that there was -a ball connected with it. The members chose a Lady Patroness: in 1732 Miss -Stonhouse; 1733, Miss Molly Wickham of Garsington; 1734 Miss Anne Cope, -daughter of Sir Jonathan Cope of Bruern.â€</p> - -<p>In the <i>Gentleman’s Magazine</i> in the year 1765 there was the following -reference: “Monday Aug. 19, was held at the Angel inn, at Oxford, the High -Borlase, when Lady Harriott Somerset was chosen Lady Patroness for the -year ensuing.â€</p> - -<p>Of other smaller clubs there were the Freecynics in 1737, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> Dr -Rawlinson describes as “a kind of Philosophical Club who have a set of -symbolical words and grimaces, unintelligible to any but those of their -own society,†and the Nonsense Club, founded by George Coleman, Bonnel -Thornton and Lloyd about 1750. The latter would seem from its name to be a -revival of the earlier Banterers existing almost a century before, who are -described by Wood as “a set of scholars so-called, some M.A., who make it -their employment to talk at a venture, lye, and prate what nonsense they -please, if they see a man talk seriously they talk floridly nonsense, and -care not what he says; this is like throwing a cushion at a man’s head -that pretends to be grave and wise.†Although Coleman assisted to found -the Nonsense Club he makes no reference to it in his reminiscences, so it -is more than probable that it was merely the whim of a term or so.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> -<p class="title">WORK AND EXAMINATIONS</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Tolerated ignorance—Lax discipline—Gibbon and Magdalen—The -“Vindication‗Opposing and responding—“Schemes‗Doing -austens—Perjury and bribes—Receiving presents—Magdalen collections.</p></div> - - -<p>Nowadays work is a factor in university life which has to be seriously -reckoned with. However strong one’s intentions to do none, however -convinced one may be of the complete absurdity and futility of cramming -dull stuff for no apparent good reasons, when there is such a glorious -time to be had doing nothing in the mornings and “sweating†at athletics -in the afternoons, yet the Dons have of late acquired a foolish habit of -sending a man down unless he succeeds in scraping through certain -examinations.</p> - -<p>They feel it to be essential, through some misguided feeling of duty, to -harry the athlete and outdoor man, and at certain periods, even, to hound -him in white tie, and as much gown as he can lay hands on, to the schools, -and if, on his final exit from their clutches, they are not satisfied with -the results of his cramming, they invert their thumbs and down he goes! It -matters not whether he be merely a humble eightsman or the all-important -President of the Boat Club. The examiners are no respecters of persons, -and fear no man nor beast. The athlete retires willy nilly.</p> - -<p>How different were the Dons’ views in Georgian times! Amhurst, serious for -once, declared that the keynote of the century was tolerated ignorance. He -made the statement boldly in the face of the high reputation of the Dons -for learning and classical knowledge, in defiance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> of the wrath of the -entire university. He was justified in making such an assertion, and I -have tried to prove the truth of his words in the course of this chapter.</p> - -<p>“A gentleman commoner,†he said, “if he be a man of fortune, is soon told -that it is not expected from one of his form to mind exercises; if he is -studious, he is morose, and a heavy bookish fellow; if he keeps a cellar -of wine, the good natur’d fellows will indulge him, tho’ he should be too -heavy-headed to be at chapel in the morning.â€</p> - -<p>In proof of this assertion I will take the case, from a sheaf of others, -of Mr Harris, afterwards Lord Malmesbury, who was an Undergraduate of -Merton in 1763. “The discipline of the university happened also at this -particular moment to be so lax,†he wrote, “that a gentleman -commoner‗and it would seem not to be of great moment whether he had -riches or not—“was under no restraint, and never called upon to attend -either lectures, or chapel, or hall. My tutor, an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practise of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to be taught trigonometry. The set of men with whom -I lived were very pleasant but very idle fellows. Our life was an -imitation of high life in London.†The entire lack of compulsion to work, -however, did not by any means cause Harris and his friends to dwindle into -mere “wasters.†From that little coterie eventually emerged Charles Fox -and William Eden.</p> - - -<p>Gibbon, the historian of world-wide renown, never did one stroke of work -while at Magdalen, nor was he ever asked, with any firmness, to do so. In -his much discussed reminiscences he set down that “some duties may -possibly have been imposed on the poor scholars, whose ambition aspired to -the peaceful honours of a scholarship; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> no independent members were -admitted below the rank of gentleman commoner, and our velvet cap was the -cap of liberty.†Commenting upon the prevailing slackness of tutors, -Gibbon quoted his own experiences. The learned doctor to whose care he was -first confided, described as “one of the best of the tribe,†had suggested -that Gibbon should read the comedies of Terence every morning with him. -“During the first weeks,†wrote Gibbon, “I constantly attended these -lessons in my tutor’s rooms; but as they appeared equally devoid of profit -and pleasure, I was once tempted to try the experiment of a formal -apology. The apology was accepted with a smile. I repeated the offence -with less ceremony; the excuse was admitted with the same indulgence; the -slightest motive of laziness or indisposition, the most trifling avocation -at home or abroad, was allowed as a worthy impediment; nor did my tutor -appear conscious of my absence or neglect.... No plan of study was -recommended for my use; no exercises were prescribed for his inspection; -and at that most precious season of youth, whole days and weeks were -suffered to elapse, without labour or amusement, without advice or -account.â€<a name='fna_20' id='fna_20' href='#f_20'><small>[20]</small></a></p> - -<p>Such was the sum total of Gibbon’s relations with that worthy and -excellent man, for, the following term, he found on his arrival, that he -had departed from the college and that another tutor was installed in his -place. Of his connection with this second tutor the Magdalen man wrote as -follows: “Instead of guiding the studies, and watching over the behaviour -of his disciple, I was never summoned to attend even the ceremony of a -lecture; and, excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms, during the eight -months of his titular office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same -college as strangers to each other.†These accusations against the -Magdalen discipline have been most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> heatedly “vindicated†by the Rev. -James Hurdis, who declared it to have been more Gibbon’s fault than the -Dons’ that he was not looked after, because he gave flippant excuses which -he dubbed formal apologies, and had not the patience to continue the -course of lectures arranged and delivered by his tutors.</p> - -<p>These vindicatory arguments do not hold water. All men will evade -authority if they can. Therefore it is surely the place of the tutor to -put his foot down and issue orders instead of letting his pupil wander at -will and do no work.</p> - -<p>In all the many descriptions of a day in the life of a Smart, or an -ordinary gentleman commoner, or the river man, no references are to be -found as to their doing any work. On the contrary, Skinner said that -“Aristotle has been deserted for the bottle,†and launched into -descriptions of the empty schools. With tutors who considered politics and -consequent individual preferment of far greater importance than the mere -conning of pupils’ work, it is not to be wondered at that the only men who -did any work were those who were “bookish†by nature and preferred a quiet -studious life to one of revelry and slacking. For the most part these -worked independently of Dons, entirely of their own volition. As far as a -good degree went, it was utterly useless; for the method of passing -university examinations was, to put it mildly, a farce. The veracity of -Vicesimus Knox is not for one moment to be questioned, so that the -following account may be taken as a fair example of the customs of the -times.</p> - -<p>“The youth, whose heart pants for the honour of a Bachelor of Arts degree, -must wait patiently till near four years have revolved. But this time is -not to be spent idly. No; he is obliged, during this period, once to -oppose, and once to respond, in disputations held in the public schools—a -formidable sound and a dreadful idea; but, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> closer attention, the fear -will vanish, and contempt supply its place. This opposing and responding -is termed, in the cant of the place, <i>doing generals</i>. Two boys, or men, -as they call themselves, agree to do generals together. The first step in -this mighty work is to procure arguments. These are always handed down, -from generation to generation, on long slips of paper, and consist of -foolish syllogisms on foolish subjects; of the formation or the -signification of which the respondent and opponent seldom know more than -an infant in swaddling clothes. The next step is to go for a <i>liceat</i> to -one of the petty officers, called the Regent Master of the Schools, who -subscribes his name to the questions and receives sixpence as his fee. -When the important day arrives, the two doughty disputants go into a large -dusty room, full of dirt and cobwebs, with walls and wainscot decorated -with the names of former disputants, who to divert the tedious hours cut -out their names with their penknives, or wrote verses with a pencil. Here -they sit in mean desks, opposite to each other, from one o’clock till -three. Not once in a hundred times does any officer enter; and, if he -does, he hears one syllogism or two, and then makes a bow, and departs, as -he came and remained, in solemn silence. The disputants then return to the -amusement of cutting the desks, carving their names, or reading Sterne’s -‘Sentimental Journey,’ or some other edifying novel. When this exercise is -duly performed by both parties, they have a right to the title and -insignia of Sophs; but not before they have been formally created by one -of the regent-masters.... This work done, a great progress is made towards -the wished-for honour of a Bachelor’s degree. There remain only one or two -trifling forms, and another disputation, almost exactly similar to doing -generals, but called <i>answering under bachelor</i>, previous to the awful -examination. Every candidate is obliged to be examined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> in the whole -circle of the sciences by three Masters of Arts <i>of his own choice</i>. The -examination is to be held in one of the public schools, and to continue -from nine o’clock till eleven. The masters take a most solemn oath, that -they will examine properly and impartially. Dreadful as all this appears, -there is always found to be more of appearance in it than reality, for the -greatest dunce usually gets his <i>testimonium</i> signed with as much ease and -credit as the finest genius. The manner of proceeding is as follows: The -poor young man to be examined in the sciences often knows no more of them -than his bedmaker, and the masters who examine are sometimes equally -unacquainted with such mysteries. But <i>schemes</i>, as they are called, or -little books, containing forty or fifty questions on each science, are -handed down, from age to age, from one to another. The candidate to be -examined employs three or four days in learning these by heart, and the -examiners, having done the same before him when they were examined, know -what questions to ask, and so all goes on smoothly. When the candidate has -displayed his universal knowledge of the sciences, he is to display his -skill in philology. One of the masters, therefore, desires him to construe -a passage in some Greek or Latin classic, which he does with no -interruption, just as he pleases, and as well as he can. The statutes next -require that he should translate familiar English phrases into Latin. And -now is the time when the masters show their wit and jocularity. Droll -questions are put on any subject, and the puzzled candidate furnishes -diversion by his awkward embarrassment. I have known the questions on this -occasion to consist of an enquiry into the pedigree of a race-horse.... -This familiarity, however, only takes place when the examiners are pot -companions of the candidate, which indeed is usually the case; for it is -reckoned good management to get acquainted with two or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> three jolly young -Masters of Arts and supply them well with port, previously to the -examination. If the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors happen to enter the -school, a very uncommon event, then a little solemnity is put on, very -much to the confusion of the masters, as well as of the boy, who is -sitting in the little box opposite them. As neither the officer, nor any -one else usually enters the room (for it is reckoned very <i>ungenteel</i>) the -examiners and the candidates often converse on the last drinking bout, or -on horses, or read the newspaper, or a novel, or divert themselves as well -as they can in any manner till the clock strikes eleven, when all parties -descend, and the <i>testimonium</i>, is signed by the masters. With this -<i>testimonium</i> in his possession the candidate is sure of success. The day -in which the honour is to be conferred arrives; he appears in the -Convocation House, he takes an abundance of oaths, pays a sum of money in -fees, and, after kneeling down before the Vice-Chancellor, and whispering -a lie, rises up a Bachelor of Arts.â€<a name='fna_21' id='fna_21' href='#f_21'><small>[21]</small></a></p> - -<p>In order, therefore, to obtain the coveted privilege of going in for all -these learned and difficult examinations, an Undergraduate had to calm his -impatience and enjoy himself as best he could for four years. Then, having -succeeded in getting himself fairly comfortably in debt, having learned -how to string off a sonnet to the reigning toast and drink himself under -the table, he was esteemed ripe for the whispering of a lie, and was -conveniently fitted out with a degree. What more simple?</p> - -<p>“And now, if he aspires at higher honours (and what emulous spirit can sit -down without aspiring at them?) new labours and new difficulties are to be -encountered during the space of three years. He must <i>determine</i> in Lent, -he must <i>do quodlibets</i>, he must <i>do austens</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> he must declaim twice, he -must read six solemn lectures, and he must be again examined in the -sciences, before he can be promoted to the degree of Master of Arts. None -but the initiated can know what <i>determining</i>, doing <i>quodlibets</i>, and -doing <i>austens</i> mean. I have not room to enter into a minute description -of such contemptible minutiæ. Let it be sufficient to say, that these -exercises consist of disputations of syllogisms, procured and uttered -nearly in the same places, time, and manner, as we have already seen them -in doing generals. There is, however, a great deal of trouble in little -formalities, such as procuring sixpenny <i>liceats</i>, sticking up the names -on the walls, sitting in large empty rooms by yourself, or with some poor -wight as ill-employed as yourself, without anything to say or do, wearing -hoods and a little piece of lambskin wool on it, and a variety of other -particulars too tedious and too trifling to enumerate.â€</p> - -<p>The eighteenth-century lad became an Undergraduate on condition of -subscribing to a lie, and was sent down as a not undistinguished man after -seven years by pronouncing another in the ear of the Vice-Chancellor.</p> - -<p>“As university degrees are supposed to be badges of learning and merit, -there ought to be some qualifications requisite to wear them, besides -perjury, and treason, and paying a multitude of fees, which seem to be the -three principal things insisted upon in our universities,†said Terrae -Filius—and the persistent joker spoke never a truer word. While -discussing the same question with some bitterness he asserted that a -schoolboy has done more learned things for his breaking-up task than were -required of an Oxford man after seven years’ residence. He more than bore -out Knox’s words as to the custom of making one’s examiner drunk and so -avoiding the irksome necessity of being asked awkward questions by him. -“It is also well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> known,†he wrote, “to be the custom for the candidates -either to present their examiners with a piece of gold, or to give them an -handsome entertainment, and make them drunk; which they commonly do the -night before examination, and sometimes keep them till morning, and so -adjourn, cheek by joul, from their drinking-room to the school where they -are to be examined. <i>Quaere</i>, whether it would not be very ungrateful of -the examiner to refuse any candidate a <i>testimonium</i> who has treated him -so splendidly over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail’d -upon by bribes?â€</p> - -<p>So that in addition to making him drunk and incapable, but not -disorderly—necessarily—the astute candidate, realising that the degree’s -the thing, paid him a metaphorical thirty pieces of silver for his -betrayal. Moreover, the collectors, that is to say the Dons who were in -control of the determining, decided the days upon which the candidates -were to present themselves. On certain days called “gracious†days, the -examiners were only required to stay in the schools for half the usual -time. The consequence was, explained Terrae, “The collectors having it in -their power to dispose of all the schools and days in what manner they -please, are very considerable persons, and great application is made to -them for gracious days and good schools; but especially to avoid being -posted or dogg’d, which commonly happens to be their lot who have no money -in their pockets.â€</p> - -<p>The statues of course forbade collectors to receive presents, but a wink -is as good as a nod, and it was customary for every determiner upon -presenting himself to give the collector a “broad or half a broad.†In -return for this douceur “Mr Collector,†said Amhurst, “entertains his -benefactors with a good supper and as much wine as they can drink, besides -gracious days and commodious schools. I have heard that some collectors -have made four score or an hundred guineas of this place.â€</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>The conclusion which is inevitably arrived at is that the examinations -for, and in fact the whole question of obtaining a degree, were a farce -and a sham, and that the authorities cared little who got one so long as -they received their fees and were left in peace to smoke and tope in the -common rooms.</p> - -<p>The attendance at college exercises seems to have been equally dilatory. -Gibbon said that the Magdalen College exercises were futile and a waste of -time. He was tacitly allowed to stay away from them. The vindicator of -Magdalen, thinking to nail Gibbon down, went to the trouble of enumerating -term by term the exercises which the Undergraduates were supposed to -perform. As interesting reading it is worthy of quotation, but as a <i>coup -de grace</i> to Gibbon it is absurd. If all Magdalen men were bound to -attend, why was Gibbon allowed to absent himself, or, if not allowed, why -was he not hauled over the coals?—and it is ridiculous to suppose that -Gibbon’s example was not followed by scores of fellow collegians. The -present-day “colleckers,†held terminally, are, more or less, in the -nature of a joke, but in those days, in spite of Hurdis’s burning loyalty -to Magdalen, the following exercises which correspond to them are -fearsome-sounding enough, but were more often than not unattended. “At the -end of every term, from his admission till he takes his first degree, -every individual Undergraduate of this college must appear at a <i>public -examination</i> before the President, Vice-President, Deans, and whatever -Fellows may please to attend; and cannot obtain leave to return to his -friends in any vacation, till he has properly acquitted himself according -to the following scheme.</p> - -<p>“In his <i>first</i> year he must make himself a proficient—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">“In the first term, in <i>Sallust</i> and the <i>Characters of Theophrastus</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> - -<p class="hang">“In the second Term, in the first six books of Virgil’s <i>Aeneis</i> and -the first three books of Xenophon’s <i>Anabasis</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the third Term, in the last six books of the <i>Aeneis</i> and the last -four books of the <i>Anabasis</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the fourth Term, in the Gospels of St Matthew and St Mark, on -which sacred books the persons examined are always called upon to -produce a collection of observations from the best commentators.</p></div> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img11tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img11.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Original Entrance to the Cloisters at Magdalen.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>“During his <i>second</i> year, the Undergraduate must make himself a -proficient—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">“In the first Term, in Cæsar’s <i>Commentaries</i>, and the first six books -of Homer’s <i>Iliad</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the second Term, in <i>Cicero de Oratore</i>, and the second six books -of the <i>Iliad</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the third Term, in <i>Cicero de Officiis</i> and the <i>Dion Hal. de -structura Orationis</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the fourth Term, in the gospels of St Luke and St John, producing -a collection of observations from commentators as at the end of the -first year.</p></div> - -<p>“During his <i>third</i> year he must make himself a proficient—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">“In the first Term, in the first six books of Livy and Xenophon’s -<i>Cyropaedia</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the second Term, in Xenophon’s <i>Memorabilia</i>, and in Horace’s -Epistles and Art of Poetry.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the third Term, in <i>Cicero de natura Deorum</i>, and in the first, -third, eighth, tenth, thirteenth and fourteenth of Juvenal’s -<i>Satires</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the fourth Term, in the first four epistles of St Paul, producing -collections as before.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>“During his <i>fourth</i> and last year he must make himself a proficient—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="hang">“In the first Term, in the first six books of the ‘Annals of Tacitus,’ -and in the <i>Electra</i> of Sophocles.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the second Term, in Cicero’s ‘Orations’ against Catilina, and in -those of Ligarius and Archias; and also in those Orations of -Demosthenes which are contained in Mounteney’s edition.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the third Term, in the ‘Dialogues’ of Plato published by Dr -Forster, and in the <i>Georgics</i> of Virgil.</p> - -<p class="hang">“In the fourth Term, in the remaining ten Epistles of St Paul and the -Epistles general, producing collections as before.â€</p></div> - -<p>The above is undoubtedly a little programme guaranteed to keep the average -Undergraduate fairly busy in the use of midnight oil. But—how odd it is -that there is ever a “but‗the excited vindicator rather spoilt matters -and lessened the terrors of the programme by stating in his preliminary -paragraph that only those Dons were present “who may please to attend!†-Having digested already some few facts concerning the habits and hobbies -of the eighteenth-century Don, as well as the liberty accorded to -gentlemen commoners, there is no need to waste sympathy on “every -individual Undergraduate†of Magdalen. He merely lowered the right eyelid, -tapped the left nostril with the left index digit and “obtained leave to -return to his friends in any Vacation,†with the greatest ease and speed -and the most cordial of farewells to the President, Vice-President, Deans, -and any of the Fellows who cared to attend.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> -<p class="title">’VARSITY LITERATURE</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Present-day ineptitude—Jackson’s <i>Oxford Journal</i>—Domestic -intelligence—Election poems—Curious advertisements—Superabundance -of St John’s editors—Terrae Filius.</p></div> - - -<p>There is some indefinable element in the atmosphere of Oxford which has -always excited an itch for writing. The sister university can, of course, -point to many sons whose names stand high in the literary firmament, but -they do not amount to a tithe of the number of great writers who have -passed through Oxford. Oxford may be the home of lost causes, but she is -also the cradle for infant pens. Generations of pens splutter their first -incoherencies behind the comparative shelter of the city walls through -which the harsh criticism of maturer writers cannot penetrate. In stilted -phraseology and doubtful grammar they cover numberless sheets with -emotional outpourings. There may be future literary geniuses hidden among -them, but from those early imitative strivings it is difficult to single -out even one. They are novices who humbly apprentice themselves to the -profession of letters. From time to time some quite brilliant piece of -work throws up more vividly the amateurishness of the rest. Such meteoric -flashes are, however, rare, and thus the general standard does not rise -above mediocrity. It is because all Undergraduate pens are very young and -inexperienced that the present-day ’varsity papers can make no claim to -literary distinction. To their credit be it said that they do not. They -are content to remain just ’varsity papers—which is synonymous with -saying that they are either tediously over-academic or peculiarly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> inane; -that their light articles are excellent imitations of the halfpenny comic -papers, that their serious efforts are most praiseworthy for their -capacity for inflicting boredom, and that their editorials border upon the -inept.</p> - -<p>It is not an unknown thing for a present-day Undergraduate paper, which is -supposedly conducted <i>by</i> Undergraduates <i>for</i> Undergraduates to be owned -and financed by a local tradesman. He, being thus in supreme command, -maintains a private blue pencil, and, obsessed by the idea that because he -sells pens and inks he is therefore a man of parts and literary -consideration, rules the poor devil of an Undergraduate editor with a rod -of iron. What is the result? It is that the average ’varsity paper is -composed of childish leaders edited by the financier; a series of vastly -foolish and unentertaining remarks which may or may not have been heard in -the Broad; pages of notes which are half-frightened comments on the week’s -doings written invariably by critics who have not sufficient pluck to say -that they consider the person or thing under criticism to be either -thoroughly bad or supremely excellent; a mawkish account of the speeches -delivered in the Union Society’s Debates, written with the condescending -patronage of the old stager, by some self-satisfied ex-official, himself a -thoroughly bad speaker and so totally unqualified to criticise; a -collection of dramatic criticisms of the bi-weekly pieces at the New -Theatre, scribbled by some musical comedy enthusiast who, in addition to a -total ignorance of the drama, has been warned by the financier of the -paper to say nice things however bad the play or the acting in order to -secure free seats from the theatre; and, lastly, a fulsome and -objectionably personal article which purports to be a biography of a -well-known Oxford man.</p> - -<p>Perhaps under these Gilbertian conditions it is no wonder that the -literary efforts of Georgian times put those of the present to shame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> In -the eighteenth century university journals were at least independent. They -looked for no pecuniary assistance from local ironmongers or haberdashers. -The consequence is that although the contributors were beginners whose -efforts were the result of the itch for writing brought on by that -indefinable element which was in the atmosphere of Oxford then as now, -their work was unhampered by any outside considerations. The literary -standard was not of the highest order. How could it be when the writers -were lads varying from eighteen to twenty years of age? It was, however, -higher than that of to-day. On turning over the various ’varsity papers of -two centuries ago, an uncomfortable sensation of that most unusual -emotion—humility—inevitably results, because there is undoubtedly found -in them much that is witty, fearless, original, vivid, and entertaining.</p> - -<p>In those days the editor drew up a scheme for running his paper, and -adhered to it in defiance of Don and man. Now, however, in his frantic -efforts to keep life in his moribund sheet, the editor does not see that -his copy is good and worth printing, copy guaranteed to sell largely. That -is not the idea. The only way to secure financial soundness is, he finds, -to pander to the advertisers by the shifty method of writing puffs for -cigarettes, soaps, wines, and so on, in a column which bears a disguised -and misleading heading, and which is an insult to the intelligence of his -youngest reader.</p> - -<p>In analysing the university journals of the eighteenth century I will -begin with the year 1753, when the inhabitants of Oxford and the -surrounding counties were enlivened by Jackson’s <i>Oxford Journal</i>. As to -its make-up the editor announced that, “This paper will be more complete -than any that has hitherto appeared in this Part of the Kingdom. For -besides the Articles of News, Foreign and Domestic, in which we shall -endeavour to surpass every other Paper, our Situation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> will enable us to -oblige our readers with a particular account of every Transaction relating -to the present Opposition in Oxfordshire, as also with a Variety of -curious Pieces in Prose and Verse, on both sides of the Question; which no -other Paper can procure.†Having made this declaration of his <i>modus -operandi</i> Jackson adhered to it rigidly and fully. His columns of foreign -news were stocked with items of note and interest. Foreign politics, wars, -rumours of wars, agricultural depressions or rises were all included, and -came from the uttermost parts of the earth. The domestic intelligence -covered the movements of the King and royal family, meetings of celebrated -London societies, and chatty descriptions of assaults and batteries. In -one issue there was a sporting account of how “a young man ran from Queen -Street, Cheapside, to Hornsey Wood, and back again, in one Hour and four -minutes.†The next paragraph related that “the same Morning was found -drowned in the River, William Andrew, a Master Taylor in Spital Fields. -His watch and Money, with two Rings on his Finger, were found upon him.†-This little tragedy was immediately followed by an incident of comedy -which occurred in the London streets.</p> - -<p>“Between Five and Six o’clock on Sunday Evening an uncommon Scheme was put -in Execution by a Gang of Pickpockets in St James’s Park. A Person very -well dressed fixing himself with great Attention, as tho’ he saw something -particular in the Air, occasioned a Number of People to enquire the Reason -and join in the Speculation, when he asserted he saw a very bright Star; -and while he was busy in pointing out the Constellation to the Spectators -several of them lost their handkerchiefs, but the Star gazer got off.â€</p> - -<p>Jackson’s news columns were every bit as full in comparison as the London -papers to-day. With politics, too, he dealt very fully. In a short and -pithy editorial, however, he assured his readers that his own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> political -views did not count—he was merely running the paper. This, odd as it may -seem, was sound diplomatic policy, because in those days, with -ever-changing party feeling, it was a mere matter of five minutes to issue -an injunction, stop the press, and confiscate the whole plant. Devoted as -he was to political interest Jackson printed many of the promised “curious -Pieces of Prose and Verse.â€</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">Receipt to make a Vote.</span></p> - -<p class="center">“<i>By the cook of Sir J. D——d.</i></p> - -<p>“Take a Cottager of Thirty shillings a Year, tax Him at Forty; Swear -at Him; Bully Him; take your business from Him; Give Him your business -again; make Him drunk; Shake Him by the Hand; Kiss his Wife, and he is -an Honest Fellow.</p> - -<p class="hang">“<i>N.B.</i>—The above Cook will make Affidavit before any Justice of the -Peace, that this Receipt has been try’d on the Body of Billy S—— and -several others in the Neighbourhood of K—rtle—n, and never failed of -Success.â€</p></div> - -<p>The other political contribution took the form of an election song, the -sort of thing that the Undergraduates of those times would seize upon and -parade the streets of the university, chanting right lustily in gangs.</p> - -<p class="poem"><span style="margin-left: 3em;">“ADVICE TO FREEHOLDERS.</span><br /> -“Ye honest Freeholders, bestir all your stumps;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For all now depends upon who turns up Trumps.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Be sure that you chuse</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Neither Placemen nor Jews.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Nor such as are likely their trust to abuse.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To the devil you’re sold if the Conj’rer prevails;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">If Israel’s Black Seed, beware of your Tails.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 8em;"><i>Chorus.</i></span><br /> -“Alas! that poor Britons should lose for their Sins<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Their Liberties, Properties and their Fore-Skins.â€</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>In addition to such contributions in prose and verse, the columns of the -Journal were open to any keen correspondent who cared to air either his -views or his grievances—an opportunity of which the fullest advantage was -taken. In every issue urgent appeals and exhortations to voters and -freeholders appeared over various names. The advertisement columns, such -as they were, contained frequent announcements of the publication of -political pamphlets addressed to the “Gentlemen, Clergy, and Freeholders -of the country of Oxford.†These columns contained also the most curious -hotch-potch of unexpected posts and requests, such as:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">To be drunk for by Candle</span>,</p> - -<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">At Will’s Coffee-House, in Oxford, on Wednesday next</span>,</p> - -<p class="center">“A LIVING,</p> - -<p>“Worth near <i>Thirty Pounds</i> per Annum, besides Surplice fees and other -emoluments. None but True Blue Parsons to drink for it. Three -Gentlemen with White Wigs and Red Faces are already entered.</p> - -<p class="hang">“<i>N.B.</i>—Very soon will be ate for at the same place, a tollerable -<i>Curacy</i>, by those who never get a Dinner but of a Sunday. Codd and -Oyster Sauce will be the Subject for this trial. Mr B—lst—ne is -excepted against in both Cases as he will spoil Sport.â€</p></div> - -<p>Another frequently-appearing notice was an advertisement of a booklet of -advice to new-married persons, or the art of having beautiful children. -This was surrounded by bills of races, cock fights, arrivals of new -dancing masters, who addressed themselves to the nobility and gentry in -and about Oxford, quack medicines and ointments which were a never-failing -remedy for the itch, announced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> “by the King’s authority. <i>N.B.</i>—One box -is sufficient to cure a grown person, and divided, is a cure for two -children.â€</p> - -<p>For the rest it was the receptacle for articles of every nature from all -and sundry. Warton left his antiquarian researches to afford himself a -little relaxation by writing for it a version of Gray’s <i>Elegy</i> up to -date, or an appreciation of Ben Tyrell’s mutton pies. From the various -coffee-houses Jackson received the wonderful effusions of the Bucks of the -first head, sonnets to Sylvia’s eyelashes, poems in praise of Oxford ale, -and even an occasional Latin verse. “Old Lochard, the newsman,†says J. R. -Green in his delightful Oxford chapters, “who, bell in hand, hawked the -Journal through the streets, owed to his college patrons not only the -antiquated cane and rusty grizzle wig, which they had thrown by after ten -years’ service of the tankard at buttery hatch, in return for quick -despatches; but the merry rhymes that every Christmas drew a douceur from -the tradesman, a slice of sirloin and a cup of October from the squire, or -a dram from Mother Baggs.â€<a name='fna_22' id='fna_22' href='#f_22'><small>[22]</small></a></p> - -<p>In the Journal’s own war paean:—</p> - -<p class="poem">“Each vast event our varied page supplies,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The fall of princes or the rise of pies;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Patriots and squires learn here with little cost</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Or when a kingdom or a match is lost;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Both sexes here approved receipts peruse,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hence belles may clean their teeth or beaux their shoes,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">From us informed Britannia’s farmers tell</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">How Louisburgh by British thunders fell;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">’Tis we that sound to all the Trump of Fame,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And babes lisp Amherst’s and Boscawen’s name.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">All the four quarters of the globe conspire</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Our news to fill, and raise your glory higher.â€</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>Throughout almost the entire eighteenth century the editorial chairs of -the different periodicals seem to have been filled for the most part by St -John’s men. Terrae Filius appeared first in 1721 under the guidance of -Nicholas Amhurst of St John’s. In 1789 <i>The Loiterers</i>, a literary weekly, -was launched before the public by James Austen of St John’s. His brother, -H. T. Austen of the same college, materially assisted him by contributing -a number of delightful imaginative articles. This paper was filially -dedicated by the editor to the President and Fellows of his college, and -ran successfully for two years. The present-day members have done their -best to maintain the literary traditions of this college, for that nine -days’ wonder, the <i>Tuesday Review</i>, was edited and run by two rash men of -St John’s.</p> - -<p>Amhurst took it upon himself to fill the post of cat-o’-nine-tails to the -University, and in his “secret history†lashed at everybody and thing that -was not to his liking, or that seemed to him to constitute in any way an -abuse. He discovered for himself, in all their abundance, the manifold -troubles of an editor, but was not to be coerced or cajoled into anything -that he did not consider fit and proper.</p> - -<p>“In a work of this nature,†he wrote in the preface to the second edition -of Terrae Filius, “it is very hard to please any, and impossible to please -all. The different tempers and tastes of men cannot relish the same style -or manner of writing any more than the same dish or the same diversion: -fops love romances; pedants love jargon; the splenatic man delights in -satire; and the gay courtier in panegyric; some are pleased with poetry; -others with prose; some are for plain truths, and some for disguise and -dissimulation. I was aware of this when I began, and, in my second paper, -reserved to myself a liberty to be in what humour I pleased, and to vary -my manner as well as my subject, hoping thereby to please most sorts of -readers; but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> quickly found myself disappointed in my expectations, -having often received, by the same post, complaints from some of my -correspondents, that I was too grave for the character of Terrae Filius; -and from others, that I affected levity too much for one who styled -himself a reformer. In answer to both of the objections I shall beg my -readers to consider that as, on one hand, it ought not to be expected that -a man should keep his face upon the broad grin for half a year together; -so, on the other, I cannot apprehend that it is at all necessary for a -reformer to be a puritan, always in the dumps, and always holding forth -with a dismal face and a canting tone:—</p> - -<p class="poem">“‘... ridiculum acri<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Fortis et melius magnas plerumque secat res.’</span></p> - -<p>“... I can see nothing in it to repent of, but the want of sufficient -abilities to treat a subject of such general importance in the manner -which it deserves. But I hope the reader will excuse some imperfections, -when he considers the nature of my stunted education, that I was allow’d -to continue but three years at Oxford, and was not twenty-four years of -age when I compleated this undertaking.â€</p> - -<p>In self-explanation Terrae Filius started off his campaign with sundry -paragraphs calculated to make the authorities uneasy as to their own -future safety, and to cause Undergraduates to champion him against them at -all hazards.</p> - -<p>“It has, till of late,†he explained, “been a custom, from time -immemorial, for one of our family to mount the rostrum at Oxford at -certain seasons, and divert an innumerable crowd of spectators, who -flock’d thither to hear him from all parts, with a merry oration in the -fescenine manner, interspersed with secret history, raillery, and sarcasm, -as the occasions at the times supply’d him with matter. If a venerable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> -head of a college was caught snug a bed with his neighbour’s wife; or -shaking his elbows on a Sunday morning; or flattering a prime minister for -a bishopric; or coaxing his bedmaker’s girl out of her maidenhead; the -hoary old sinner might expect to hear of it from our lay-pulpit the next -Act. Or if a celebrated toast and a young student were seen together at -midnight under a shady myrtle tree, billing like two turtle doves, to him -it belonged, being a poet as well as an orator, to tell the tender story -in a melancholy ditty, adapted to pastoral music.â€</p> - -<p>Claiming to follow the precedents established by his old-time -predecessors, Terrae Filius set about showing up the scandalous old Heads, -disguised in thinly-veiled names. As a consequence he was many times -prohibited by Vice-Chancellors and preached down, and cordially loathed -and execrated by all the college Heads and Fellows of his time, whom he -attacked either directly or indirectly.</p> - -<p>“Why should a poor Undergraduate,†he asked, “be called an idle rascal, -and a good-for-nothing blockhead, for being perhaps but twice at chapel in -one day; or for coming into college at ten or eleven o’clock at night; or -for a thousand other greater trifles than these; whilst the grey-headed -doctors may indulge themselves in what debaucheries and corruptions they -please, with impunity, and without censure? Methinks it could not do any -great hurt to the universities if the old fellows were to be jobed at -least once in four or five years for their irregularities, as the young -ones are everyday, if they offend.â€</p> - -<p>Abuses of such a nature are long dead, and a Terrae Filius to-day would -rapidly die of starvation by reason of the lack of matter. Then, however, -he not only lived, but waxed fat on the news he ferreted out—rather in -the manner of a leech applied to a festering sore. Advertisements to him -meant nothing. They were unsought, and would have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> been refused if -offered. He was <i>pro bono publico</i>, ever ready with advice, satire, -criticism, explanation, and always humour. His pen was untiring in writing -a subject up or down, according to its merits or demerits. Political, -religious, academic, and social abuses were thrown on to the screen -fearlessly. His paternal advice to freshmen, although written in a vein of -biting irony, was, nevertheless exactly suited to the times, and, if -followed unswervingly, must assuredly have been of vast assistance in -coping with the wily, time-serving sculls and beer-swilling tutors. His -advice as to their morale was penned with his tongue in his cheek; but in -substance it was none the less straight and praiseworthy. His political -views were consistent and very strenuous, and the opposition received a -royal scourging from his stinging and lengthy lashes. His contempt for -Smarts was only exceeded by his scorn for drink-soddened, incapable -Fellows, and the scandalous manner in which they neglected the statutes -and allowed everything to run to seed. His boldness in choice of subjects -was unparalleled, the outspoken manner of setting them forth absolutely -inimitable. The results achieved by his work must have been considerable, -though to a large extent unperceived publicly, because a new leaf turned -frankly and openly would have been an avowal of guilt on the part of the -persons concerned. The proof that he was largely read lies in the fact -that he was preached about in no measured terms in public pulpits, -prohibited by various authorities, roasted by aggrieved parties in coffee- -and ale-houses, and, in fact, was a household word on every one’s tongue.</p> - -<p>A lengthy disquisition upon the way in which the truth was mangled, -disguised, covered up, and turned about by priests, statesmen, and every -“old libertine in authority†was followed by the ensuing declaration:—</p> - -<p>“I, Terrae Filius, a free-thinker, and a free-speaker, highly incensed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -against all knavery and imposture, and not thinking <i>Truth</i> such a -terrible enemy to religion and good order, as it has been represented, do -hereby declare war against all cheats and deluders, however dignified, or -wheresoever residing; the fear of obloquy and ill-usage shall not deter me -from this undertaking, nor shall any considerations rob me of the liberty -of my own thoughts and my own tongue. In the pursuit of this design, I -shall not confine myself to any particular method; but shall be grave and -whimsical, serious or ludicrous, prosaical or poetical, philosophical or -satirical, argue or tell stories, weep over my subject, or laugh over it, -be in humour or out of humour, according to whatever passion is uppermost -in my breast whilst I am writing.â€</p> - -<p>In token of this promise there stands the truth on every page, however -bedded in satire, philosophy, poetry, or ridicule. He saw to it that his -daily path was studded with nails, and in his passage he hit them each one -on the head. As a result the pages of Terrae Filius are from cover to -cover a source of immense joy. For an example of bold and delightful -satire I cannot find a better instance than the <i>ne plus ultra</i> in skits -on the Poetical Club. Of course he gave the president and learned -professors who composed it fictitious names, but it is palpable that those -caricatured recognised themselves, and, if they had the least grain of -humour in their compositions, they must have enjoyed it thoroughly. As, -however, the question of their possessing a sense of humour is open to -grave doubts—a fact proved by the very formation of the club and the -secrecy of its doings—it is infinitely more likely that the club writhed -under his well-pointed jibes and consigned the author to eternal -perdition. Then, too, the bland and smiling manner in which he turned -aside the violent pulpit denunciations of his hard-hit victims is -exhilarating to a degree. He received, for instance, a letter from an -anonymous friend (hidden behind the title<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> “John Spyâ€) who sent him an -account of the heated charges laid at his door by a certain grave college -Head. Terrae printed the letter and smilingly pointed out the reasons of -the man’s wrath in a tone of charming tolerance.</p> - -<p>“You see, reader,†he said, “that I had no sooner undertaken this task but -I raised a nest of holy wasps and hornets about my ears; an huge old -drone, grown to an excessive bulk upon the spoils of many years, has -thought fit, you see, to call me terrible names before his learned -audience, at St Mary’s Church in Oxford; it is, it seems, an hellish -attempt to bring about a reformation of the universities; and it is daring -and impious in me to style myself a free-thinker and a free-speaker: poor -man! poor man! What! art afraid I should tell tales out of school, how a -certain fat doctor got his bedmaker with child, and play’d several other -unlucky pranks? That would be daring and impious indeed. No, no, never -fret thyself, man; I love a pretty woman myself, and I never desire any -better usage in this world than as I do unto others to be done unto -myself.â€</p> - -<p>Turning to politics, Terrae Filius summed up the attitude of the -authorities in Oxford in one short paragraph—which was made a hundred -times more severe by his assertion upon honour that religion received the -same treatment at their hands.</p> - -<p>“In politics my advice is the same as in religion—not to let your upstart -reason domineer over you, and say you must obey this king or that king; or -you must be of this party, or that party; instead of that, follow your -leaders; observe the cue, which they give you; speak as they speak; act as -they act; drink as they drink, and swear as they swear; comply with -everything which they comply with; and discover no scruples which they do -not discover.â€</p> - -<p>Upon a Whig and a Tory enquiring what was their exact position,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> he told -them that one day the Whig might be safe and have things all his own way, -but that the next the certainty of the Tory’s being uppermost was -absolute. Finally he urged upon them that the only safe method of -proceeding was to employ what are called nowadays the Winston tactics—one -side one day, the other the next, according to one’s greater individual -advantage.</p> - -<p>He dealt exhaustively with the peculiarly slack method of conducting, or -rather the practical non-existence of, university examinations. On reading -his account alone, it would very naturally be supposed that he was drawing -the long bow, caricaturing the existing conditions out of all shape and -possibility of recognition, and we laugh unreservedly. But further study -of other writers’ criticisms of the times very quickly turns our smile -into a gasp of amazement. Terrae Filius was not caricaturing. All his -absurd and quite impossible relations of bribery and corruption were true. -It is precisely the same with all his papers. He has wisely written them -in the style of caricatures, and at times, no doubt, has indulged his -humour overmuch; but, on going into his inimitable showings up of drinking -and immoral Dons, political conflicts, university statutes, toasts, -smarts, or any one of the innumerable subjects dissected by him, and then -comparing his work with other eighteenth-century documents, one finds that -Terrae Filius carried out his boast and kept to the truth.</p> - -<p>Is there any man to-day who, at the age of twenty-four, has achieved such -notoriety, done such brilliant work, and proved himself to be such a -master of his craft?</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> -<p class="title">’VARSITY LITERATURE (<i>continued</i>)</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">The Student—Cambridge included—Its design—The female student—Poem -by Sir Walter Raleigh—Bishop Atterbury’s letter—The manly woman.</p></div> - - -<p>On the first day of January, 1750, there appeared the first number of <i>The -Student</i>. The sub-title read: <i>The Oxford Monthly Miscellany</i>. For two -years it ran successfully, and, at the beginning of the second, it was -found that Cambridge took such an interest in its doings that the -sub-title was enlarged. It then read: <i>The Oxford and Cambridge Monthly -Miscellany</i>. In make-up it differed entirely from Terrae Filius, and -contended to be a far more serious and high-minded journal, aiming not so -much to amuse as to teach its readers. Thus it contained Latin prose and -verse, religious discussions, essays, medical dissertations, and a -carefully selected variety of lighter matter in English prose and verse. -The tone of the work may be gathered from the sedate foreword to the -public.</p> - -<p>“In the course of this work particular care will be taken that nothing be -inserted indecent or immoral, and as we are determined to give umbrage to -no Person or Party, all political disputes and whatever is offensive to -Good Manners will of consequence be avoided. Our design being only to -promote learning in general, we shall not confine ourselves to any -particular subject, but occasionally comprehend all the branches of polite -literature. Each number will consist of such originals in Prose and Verse -as we hope will prove agreeable to our readers. And tho’ we might with -impunity comply with the common<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> practice of preying indiscriminately on -the labours of others, yet we shall not to our knowledge publish any thing -that has been printed before, or without the consent of the respective -authors: for the one we consider as a fraud upon the publick, and the -other an invasion of private property. These considerations we presume -will remove any prejudice which the Learned may conceive against our -undertaking, and induce them not only to encourage, but assist us in the -prosecution of it. And as we must necessarily depend on the publick for -the Success of our work, we hope it will meet with their indulgence. No -endeavours on our part shall be wanting to render it worthy their -approbation; and we no longer desire their favour, than while we continue -to deserve it.â€</p> - -<p>In the first number there were some five or six pages of Latin verse, a -translation of the chorus at the end of the second act of <i>Hecuba of -Euripides</i>, an elegy in imitation of Tibullus, an article on “Intellectual -Pleasure‗the author of which was requested, in an editorial note, to -favour the paper with his further reflections—the speech of John Fell, -D.D., Bishop of Oxford, at his Triennial Visitation in the year 1685, an -article entitled “Leaning of no Party,†and one or two lighter imaginative -contributions, such as “The Speech of an Old Oak to an Extravagant Young -Heir as He was going to be Cut Down,†and an “Address to an Elbow Chair -Lately New Cloath’d.†As there were no advertisements to assist the -editors with the printing bills, it speaks well for the literary taste of -the period that the paper lived two full years—the period to which the -editors limited themselves at the outset. Such a periodical at Oxford in -the year of grace 1911 would prove to be a hopeless anachronism. It would -arrive at a circulation of three copies per month—a free copy to the -British Museum, another to the Bodleian,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> and the third to the editor’s -mother. The Undergraduates might finger it casually on the bookshop -counter, and the Dons read the first number on account of its novelty, but -it would die a speedy death unless by the second issue the editor -announced its coalition with the comic paper whose editor runs his -motor-car on the earnings of butcher and express messenger boys.</p> - -<p>One of the lighter features of <i>The Student</i> was a series of letters from -Cambridge written by the female student. Her epistles were full of humour, -and she poked fun at the Undergraduates quietly, and in a manner not -wholly unlike Terrae Filius. Perhaps it is unfair to compare her efforts -to those of Amhurst, because as he jested and quipped in every conceivable -style and way, any one coming after him might be accused, quite unjustly, -of plagiarism. That the female student was not guilty of any false modesty -is easily to be seen from the account of herself in her preliminary -letter; while the care with which the editors of <i>The Student</i> guarded the -decencies and the moralities ensured that she did not in any way cause a -breach in them by her broad-minded and outspoken contributions. She began -by claiming the student as a brother, a claim based upon her birth, -education, and the whole conduct of her life. She asserted that she, too, -was a student, having sounded the depths of philosophy and made greater -progress “in academical erudition†than most of the Dons whose profound -knowledge consisted in a “little cap with a short tuft and a large pompous -grizzle wig.†She was born and brought up in Cambridge in the care of an -aunt. Her studies were directed by a grave Fellow of a college. Her aunt -was so fond of her that she was suffered to “give a loose to her passion -for literature,†and the girl absorbed information from curling papers and -the lids of wig-boxes. When she was seventeen her tutor died of a surfeit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> -occasioned by feeding too freely at a gaudy, and the secret at last came -out that there had been a union between the Don and the aunt for nearly -twenty years. The aunt became, therefore, a mother, and she produced -documents to show that the Don’s possessions were hers. The result of the -selling of the deceased’s effects did not raise the good woman to a -condition of luxury.</p> - -<p>“However,†said the girl, “she resolved to continue at Cambridge on my -account, and we lived together in a manner much genteeler than our fortune -would afford. My person (which, by-the-bye, I took as much pains to -cultivate as my mind) now began to be cried up as much as my parts. I was -a charming, clever, sweet, smart, witty, pretty creature, in short, I was -as much feared for my wit as ador’d for my beauty. From hence I had vanity -to fancy I could have anybody I pleased, and had therefore resolved within -myself to be run away with by a nobleman, or a baronet at least.â€</p> - -<p>But this witty, pretty creature unfortunately over-estimated her -possibilities. The next ten years passed in a round of gaiety which took -the form of courtship by no one under the rank of gentleman commoner. With -the baronet in view, however, such mere mortals fell in their hundreds. -Some she rejected “because a better might offer, some because they had too -much sense; others because they had too little; this was too old, that too -young,†and, in consequence, she was gradually deserted, as her physical -charms waned, until at last her name was never mentioned “without the -odious reproach of ‘she has been’ added to it.â€</p> - -<p>At the moment of writing this first letter she was compelled to work for -her bread and the support of her mother. This she did with her pen, -turning out poems and novels; being, as she informed <i>The Student</i>, at -present engaged in “composing sermons for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> bookseller, which he designs -to sell for the MS. Sermons of an eminent divine lately deceased, -warranted originals.â€</p> - -<p><i>The Student</i>, liking the tone of her first letter, encouraged her to -write further, and from time to time she sent in various articles, such as -a scathing criticism of Academical Gallantry, in which she roundly chaffed -all gownsmen for their bragging propensities and gallant follies, and gave -an account of the various Dons and their habits who had laid vain siege to -her heart, and a discussion on the sin of living single, and the fustiness -of old maids—a plight in which she admitted herself to be, though not by -“desire or inclination.â€</p> - -<p>In spite of the editorial desire to give umbrage to no person or party, -certain of the Bucks seem to have considered her an unamusing, brazen -creature, whose inclusion in <i>The Student</i> was a sad mistake, for she -received the following crushing letter from one of their number.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right">“—— Coll., Oxford, <i>June 11, 1751</i>.</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Madam</span>,—As the character I bear in this University is that of a -profess’d critic-general on pamphlets, and as my opinion is look’d -upon as infallible and oracular in a certain coffee-house frequented -by Wits, where a subscription is carried on for raking together the -dulness of the age, I think I may take the liberty (without being -styled Prig, Fop, Witling, or Poetaster) of transmitting you my full -and candid sentiments on your monthly productions. And first, Madam -Student, with as much laconic politeness as possible, I beg leave to -inform you that you pretend to that choice ingredient of good writing -Humour, without having one syllable of it. In a word, Madam, if you -have any Humour at all, it is that low species of it, never so much as -heard of in Greece and Rome, originally invented by Tom Brown of -blackguard memory, and now first revived by the Female Student.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>“This species (if it may call itself a species), I, myself, in right -of the sublime critical character with which the sensible Men of our -house have invested me, have christen’d Jack-Pudding Humour. To define -it were utterly impracticable. However, thus much may be said of it, -that it is made up of ill-breeding and ill-nature, and discovers a -remarkable want of classical reading, and a relish for authors of true -taste. It treats of subjects of a vague nature, and is (beside its -Jack-pudding affinity) of a mere Jack-lanthorn nature, neither here -nor there; in short, it is a topsy-turvy, rhapsodic, miscellaneous -method of writing. But, to come to the point. What I would recommend -to you is to leave off scribbling, and sit down seriously to sewing.</p> - -<p>“Why, Madam, you are nothing more than a bankrupt in beauty, a mere -discarded toast! I assure you, Mrs Student, you have no more chance of -getting reputation by your pen than you had of getting a husband by -your person.—Yours,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">“<span class="smcap">Frank Fizz-Puff</span>.â€</span></p></div> - -<p>Whether this letter really caused the good lady to take up sewing in -earnest it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that she was no more -seen in <i>The Student</i>—not even to the extent of an indignant feminine -outburst against Mr Fizz-Puff.</p> - -<p>Among the “never before†printed verses which the editor secured for his -columns were some written by Sir Walter Raleigh at Winchester in 1603, as -he lay under sentence of death. They were printed from a manuscript with -due care to preserve the spelling exactly as it was. The editor, however, -was in ignorance of the fact that they had already been published in 1608 -in the second edition of Davison’s <i>Poetical Rhapsody</i>.</p> - -<p class="poem"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -“Goe, soul, the bodyes gueste,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Upon a thankless arrante,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Fear not to touche the beste,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The truth shall be thy warrante.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Goe, since I needs must dye,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And give them all the lye.</span><br /> -<br /> -“Goe, tell the court it glowse,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And shines like painted woode;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Goe, tell the church it shows</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">What’s good, but does no good.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If court and church replye</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Give court and church the lye.â€</span></p> - -<p>The moribund knight pursued his muse to the thirteenth verse, giving -everybody and everything the lie. The editor of <i>The Student</i>, undoubtedly -with the idea of pandering to all tastes, was careful to place these -verses in between a translation of a Latin epigram—</p> - -<p class="poem">“I stole from sweet Gumming two kisses in play,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But she from myself stole myself quite away;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I grieve not I play’d, tho’ so cruel the sport;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I’m more pleas’d than griev’d at the hurt.â€</span></p> - -<p>and an epistle in verse to Lord Cobham, written by Congrave, while in the -very near neighbourhood, was—</p> - -<p class="poem"><span style="margin-left: 4em;">“THE HERMAPHRODITE.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 6em;">“<i>From the Latin</i></span><br /> -“My mother, when she was with child of me,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Consulted heav’n what gender I should be.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Female, cried Mars; Apollo said, a Male;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Neither, quoth Juno; both your judgments fail.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">My birth did prove the Goddess in the right;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Nor boy, nor girl, but an Hermaphrodite.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Again she ask’d them what my fate would be.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">One said a sword, another said a tree;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Water a third, and they were right all three.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For from a tree I fell upon my sword,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Feet caught in boughs, head dangling in a ford.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Man, Woman, Neither, I at last was found,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Just as the Gods foretold, hang’d, stabb’d, and drown’d.â€</span></p> - -<p>A few numbers before that in which the coffee-house wit told the female -student just precisely what he thought of her, the editor received a -letter from another of these gentry at one of the coffee-houses. On behalf -of all his brother Smarts, Mr Harry Didapper took it upon himself to offer -a little friendly advice to the paper. He informed the editor that <i>The -Student</i> was read with keen interest by them all, but that at times it -indulged in boring and pompous articles which, however they pleased the -editor himself, or the cultivated taste of his wig-maker, hosier and wine -merchant, left them angry and disappointed. The Smarts wished to have no -more abstract speculations and religious introspections. They wanted more -brightness and humanity about the paper. Consequently in the next issue -the editor published the following lamentation:—</p> - -<p class="poem"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">“A RECEIPT FOR THE GOUT.</span><br /> -“Oh Gout! the plague of rich and great!<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thou cramping padlock of the feet!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Oh Gout! thou puzzling knotty point!</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">You nick man’s frame in every joint;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">You, like inquisitors of Spain,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Rack, burn, and torture limbs to pain.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">First, miner-like, you work below,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And sap man’s fortress by the toe....</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And what is worse, the wounded part</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Finds small relief from doctor’s art.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Great Wilmot’s skill confounded stands</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">When patient roars ... my toe! my hands!...</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">’Tis said that bees, when raging found,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Are charm’d to peace by tinkling sound;</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Shrill lullabies in nurse’s strain</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Asswage the froward bantling’s pain,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">When cutting teeth, or ill-plac’d pin,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Molest the tender baby’s skin,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So when Gout-humours throb and ache,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The present soft prescription take.</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In elbow-chair majectick sit</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In full high twinge, yet scorn to fret;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Divert the pain with generous wine;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Read news from Flanders and the Rhine;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hold up the toe like Pope of Rome;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Forbear to scold, and swear, and fume;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Let double flannel guard the part,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To mitigate the dreadful smart;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Wrap round the joint this harmless verse;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And let dame Patience be your nurse.â€</span></p> - -<p>Would any doctor in these times prescribe wine as a remedy against gout? -Whether the advice was sound or not, the Smarts appeared to have been -appeased, for there came no further complaints as to the stodginess of the -fare served up to them.</p> - -<p>In the same number of <i>The Student</i> there appeared a letter from Bishop -Atterbury to his son Obadiah, who was up at the House. How the editor -procured it is not recorded, nor is it easy to see why he included it in -his columns. It cannot have been vastly entertaining to a list of -subscribers who devoted most of their time to ale and coffee-houses, or in -dallying with Amaryllis in the shade of Merton Wall. It is greatly -interesting to-day, however, as an example of what an eighteenth-century -parent indicted to his son. The contrast between this letter and the -replies one receives in 1911 in answer to one’s brief epistles written, -mostly, solely in order to “touch the dad down for a bit†is not -unstriking.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>“<span class="smcap">Dear Obby</span>,—I -thank you for your letter, because there are manifest signs in it of your endeavouring to excel yourself, and in consequence -to please me. You have succeeded in both respects, and will always -succeed, if you think it worth your while to consider what you write -and to whom, and let nothing, tho’ of a trifling nature, pass through -your pen negligently. Get but the way of writing correctly and justly, -time and use will teach you to write readily afterwards. Not but that -too much care may give a stiffness to your style, which ought in all -letters by all means to be avoided. The turn of them should always be -natural and easy, for they are an image of private and familiar -conversation. I mention this with respect to the four or five first -lines of yours, which have an air of poetry, and do therefore -naturally resolve themselves into blank verses. I send you your letter -again, that you may make the same observation. But you took the hint -of that thought from a poem, and it is no wonder therefore, that you -heightened the phrase a little when you were expressing it. The rest -is as it should be; and particularly there is an air of duty and -sincerity, that if it comes from your heart, is the most acceptable -present you can make me. With these qualities an incorrect letter -would please me, and without them the finest thoughts and language -would make no lasting impression upon me. The great Being says, you -know—my son, give me thy heart—implying that without it all other -gifts signify nothing. Let me conjure you therefore never to say -anything, either in a letter or common conversation, that you do not -think, but always to let your mind and your words go together on the -most slight and trivial occasions. Shelter not the least degree of -insincerity under the notion of a compliment, which, as far as it -deserves to be practis’d by a man of probity, is only the most civil -and obliging way of saying what you really mean; and whoever employs -it otherwise, throws away truth for breeding; I need not tell you how -little his character gets by such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> an exchange. I say not this as if I -suspected that in any part of your letter you intended only to write -what was proper, without any regard to what was true; for I am -resolved to believe that you were in earnest from the beginning to the -end of it, as much as I am when I tell you that I am,—Your loving -father, etc.â€</p></div> - -<p>The editor of <i>The Student</i> pronounced himself the champion of many and -various causes. For instance, he organised in his columns a fund for the -maintenance of the widows and children of deceased clergy in straightened -circumstances, which did an immense amount of good. His appeal for money -was nobly responded to in Oxford, and widely taken up by the public. -Another matter against which he took up the cudgels was the fondness shown -so largely by the fair sex for indulging in masculine sports in masculine -attire—more particularly hunting. From his account it is clear that a -very great percentage of ladies was horsey to the exclusion of all else, -even, in his eyes, of femininity.</p> - -<p>“I cannot,†he wrote in an article occasioned by an amusing letter from a -short-sighted contributor who at dinner addressed his neighbour as Sir, -when all the time it was a lady, who, returning late from a day with the -hounds had had no time to change, “I cannot, indeed, but highly disapprove -not only the habit, but also the cause of it. It makes them appear rough -and manlike: it robs them of all the endearing softness, all the alluring -tenderness, that so captivates and charms the heart. As pity and a certain -degree of timorousness are essentially woven into their constitution, do -they not pervert the very end of their creation, who daringly tempt the -perils of the chace, or exult in the prosecution and death of a poor -harmless animal? If the laws of <i>decency</i> are not broke thro’ by such an -unbecoming practice,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> I am sure, those of <i>delicacy</i> are, which above all -things ’tis the business of the fair to keep up.â€</p> - -<p>As an example of the unnatural and indelicate results of a woman being -sporting the editor related with pathos the story of one Peggy Atall, who -was brought up, her mother being dead, by her father, a country squire, to -all the “labourious sports of the field.†Hunting was, however, her -obsession, and she was noted as the boldest rider in the country. “As she -is an heiress, many a young fox hunter, whose love has been greater than -his prudence, has hazarded his neck and cheaply come off with a dislocated -limb or so, in following her thro’ the various perils and hairbreadth -’scapes of the chace.†The editor, who had the good fortune to know this -fair Diana, was, fortunately for himself, not in love with her, judging by -the avowedly casual manner in which he visited at her house. But he was -none the less deeply pained that “her whole conversation turns on that -topic. I have often heard her charm a large circle of gaping -fellow-sportsmen with a recapitulation of the feats of the day. She would -descant a whole hour on the virtues of Dreadnought, her own horse, who had -brought her in at the death of a stag, with Tom the huntsman, when every -gentleman on the field was thrown out; concluding with the most exulting -expressions of barbarous joy at seeing the poor beast torn to pieces.†He -brought his reflections to an end by strongly urging all his fair-hunting -readers to “lay aside the spirit of the chace together with the cap, the -whip, and <i>all the masculine attire</i>.†It is more than probable that as -the editor of a modern daily or weekly paper his remarks <i>à propos</i> of -suffragette raids, and all the little delicate ventures in which women -vote-seekers indulge their fancy, would make very bright and spirited -reading. He was evidently born before his time. Be that as it may, he -undoubtedly conducted his paper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> on popular lines, for he was enabled to -keep it alive during the two years which he had mapped out for himself in -the beginning. Its fame was not local to Oxford and Cambridge. He received -letters of congratulation from Edinburgh, Dublin, and other university -towns—the senders of course enclosing contributions with their letters of -praise!</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> -<p class="center">’VARSITY LITERATURE (<i>continued</i>)</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">The <i>Oxford Magazine</i>—Introduction of illustrations—Odd -advertisements—Attention paid to the Drama—Prologue to the -<i>Cozeners</i> written by Mr Garrick—Visions, fables and moral -tales—<i>The Loiterer</i>—Diary of an Oxford man, 1789.</p></div> - - -<p><i>The Student</i> was followed after a lapse of some eighteen years by the -<i>Oxford Magazine</i>, a monthly miscellany. Devoted to no one particular -object, the editors declared its columns open to every kind of literary -matter—scientific, historical, antiquarian. Light and merely amusing -subjects were also given a place in its pages. They boasted in addition a -feature which no other periodical had ever included—illustrations. <i>The -Student</i>, it is true, had an allegorical engraving as a frontispiece to -each volume, but the <i>Oxford Magazine</i> went one better and had -copper-plates of many of the noteworthy persons and happenings of the day, -which were “made from the most striking subjects.†“Satirical and -political cards will be given in each number, executed by the most -ingenious artists; which, it is hoped, will vie, in humour and satire, -with the late celebrated Mr Hogarth’s performances.†Other features which -the editors dealt with far more enterprisingly than any other papers of -the century were the Drama and the Law Courts. In each number there -appeared a criticism of a Drury Lane production with the cast in full, a -description of the play, the plot given in <i>précis</i> form, and a general -summing up of the merits or demerits of the writing and acting. Each of -these ran to several columns, and in some numbers there were criticisms of -two or three productions. Besides dealing with the Law Courts in the -Domestic Intelligence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> columns, which acted as a sort of monthly review of -events, there were full reports of some of the important trials of the -time. The editors’ foreword was not without interest, giving, as it did, -an exact idea of their plan of campaign. On the title page it was stated -that the magazine was “calculated for general instruction and amusement.†-To this end they put forward following the programme:—</p> - -<p>“Among other subjects of general entertainment, the authors propose to -give, in the course of this magazine, complete systems of every branch of -useful learning, enriched with all the improvements of modern writers. -They do not, however, propose to confine their labours entirely to the -elucidation of the sciences; they propose to give a large account of the -political and other transactions in different parts of the world, -especially in our own country; every remarkable event, every uncommon -debate, and every interesting turn of affairs will be recorded. A copious -and authentic history of foreign and domestick occurrences will also be -given, digested in a chronological series, containing all the material -news of the month. To render this performance agreeable to every class of -readers, care will be taken to furnish it with pieces calculated for -general entertainment. The elegant amusements of literature, the flights -of poetical fancy, and the brilliant sallies of inoffensive wit, shall -find a place in our <i>Magazine</i>. In a word, researches into antiquity; -elucidations of ancient writers; criticisms on every branch of literature; -essays in prose and verse; visions, fables, moral tales, etc., will make a -part of this performance. The correspondence of the ingenious is therefore -requested....â€</p> - -<p>On the lighter side of the periodical, one of the features was a monthly -collection from contemporary London papers of curious and remarkable -advertisements. They evidently appealed strongly to the supporters of the -paper, as, after the first volume, the editors gave them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> in greater -number. Some of them, indeed, were not without humour—of the broader kind -then in vogue—as will be seen from the few examples appended:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“A maiden lady, who lately died in Ireland, left two guineas each to -four maidens, aged twenty-five, to be her pall-bearers, each of whom -was to swear she was a maid, before receiving the money; but such is -the detestation in which perjury is held in Ireland, that the old lady -was buried without a pall-bearer.—<i>Public Advertiser</i>, July 8.â€</p> - -<p>“To the Single Women.—A Single Man wants to Lodge, or Lodge and -Board, with a Single Woman whether in business or not; keeps regular -hours, will not give much trouble, but spends many evenings at home; -therefore wishes to meet with a very conversable person and is willing -to pay a <i>handsome</i> price.—<i>Gazetteer</i>, Nov. 22.â€</p> - -<p>“On Thursday last a publican in Shoreditch sold his wife to a butcher -for a ticket in the present lottery, on condition that if the ticket -be drawn a blank he is to have his wife again as soon as the drawing -of the lottery is over.—<i>Public Advertiser</i>, Sep. 19.â€</p> - -<p>“If any real gentleman will oblige a <i>lady</i> of character with <i>one -hundred pounds</i>, for six months, on her own bond, the gentleman may -have an advantage, which cannot be mentioned in a public newspaper; it -is desired that none may apply who cannot command the sum -immediately.—Please to direct a line to J. X. at Mr Tomb’s No. 72 -Fetter Lane.â€</p> - -<p>“If Mr ——, lately a Latin master at an academy in town, who has got -a dozen and a half of shirts belonging to Mr Wh—e, does<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> not call on -his guardian in Coleman Street immediately, and give satisfaction for -the said shirts, his name will be advertised with many other -circumstances not to his advantage.—<i>Daily Advertiser</i>, Dec. 16.â€</p> - -<p>“Mrs K—— (who was in one of the front boxes at the representation of -the ‘Trip to Scotland’) was observed to blush four times behind her -fan, occasioned, it is imagined, at the repetition of the words single -and <i>double beds</i>; as it is said to be well known that in her -elopement to Scotland only a <i>single bed</i> was used going and -returning.â€</p></div> - -<p>The above are a few specimens of the flowers of wit, printed extensively -at the time in many of the papers, culled from many volumes of the <i>Oxford -Magazine</i>. At the end of Volume IX., however, there was found to be no -further desire for them, and they were quietly dropped into the limbo of -forgotten things. The columns thus relieved were filled with anecdotes and -articles of a much less lively but more literary nature.</p> - -<p>The opening article in the first volume was a very serious essay, fully -equipped with examples and quotations from the ancients, on the Power of -the Passions. This was followed by a consideration as to whether genius is -a natural gift or an effect of education. From the great similarity of -style in the two articles, it is extremely probable that they were written -by the same pen. The next ten columns were occupied by a <i>verbatim</i> report -of various speeches made in the Court of King’s Bench, and in certain -London clubs. The Surgeon Dentist to His Majesty then contributed a -flowing article on the disorders and deformities of the teeth and gums, in -which mothers might find copious hints as to the teething of their -infants. For the patrons of the Drama, unable to get up to London, there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -was “Some Account of the Statesman Foil’d, a Musical Comedy in Two Acts, -composed by Mr Rush; and performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket.†-Even in those days it would seem that dramatic critics were of the settled -opinion that their task was never to praise, but only to carp and pick -holes, for, after giving a description of the play which read very -amusingly and well, the critic concluded by saying that although “several -of the songs are very prettily set, they are undoubtedly inferior to Mr -Rush’s former compositions; and the dialogue not remarkable for sentiment -or wit, is often extremely tiresome.â€</p> - -<p>In whatever spirit the criticisms were written, however, it cannot be said -that the university, only allowed to perform plays after a deal of -discussion and recrimination on the part of the powers that were, did not -take a great interest in the Drama. As the <i>Oxford Magazine</i> proceeded, -more and more space was devoted to the London productions, and whole -scenes which were deemed of literary and dramatic merit were quoted from -them. Many of the songs, too, were published at length. The July number in -1774 contains, for example, “an account of the new comedy called the -<i>Cozeners</i> as it was performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket.†The -cast is quoted in full and, besides telling the story of the play in some -three columns, the prologue was printed.</p> - -<p>The critic of the <i>Magazine</i> wrote about it as follows:—</p> - -<p>“The piece was introduced with an excellent prologue, replete with the -true Attic salt (said to be written by Mr Garrick), and spoken by Mr -Foote, in which he compared himself to a watchman, whose business it is to -watch over the rising vices and follies of the age, and when they come to -a certain height, <i>knock them down</i>, by exposing them on the stage. As -nothing ever deserved applause more,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> so nothing was ever more warmly -received by the audience.†Of all the criticisms of the various -productions in whose casts are to be found the names of Mrs Siddons, Mrs -Love, Mr Foote, Mrs Yates, and many other famous actors and actresses of -the time, that of the <i>Cozeners</i> is the most warm and praisegiving of any -printed in the <i>Magazine</i>.</p> - -<p>Among the visions, fables, and moral tales promised by the editors, there -was a vivid and detailed description of a nun’s taking the veil. The -writer spent himself in explanation of every word and deed that occurred -during the ceremony, but whether the article, which ran through several -issues and was written by a person of the male sex, was considered a -vision, a fable, or a moral tale, it is impossible to say. Whichever it -was, however, it was well observed and highly coloured. Then there -followed a curious little contribution which was labelled a tale, but -which ought surely to have been included in the category of visions or -fables. It was entitled the “Kiss,†and came from the German. “When I was -a youth, my father sent me to Paphos to study love, which I there learnt -of a Dryad.... Fair one, you may now learn of me what a Kiss is. The -Nymphs and Dryads never met to dance, without making me one of the party; -for I was dedicated to the God of Love, and everything within me expressed -the sentiment.</p> - -<p>“At this tender age I tasted the most pure pleasure. All Paphos, to me, -seemed to dance; for the little loves danced over my head, and the flowers -danced under my feet. Among the Dryads was one who affected always to -chuse me for her partner; she never failed to smile at me sweetly, to -squeeze my hand, and blush afterwards with all the graces of modesty. And -I squeezed also the hand of the Dryad, and blushed when I danced with her. -Even before Aurora<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> had quitted the ocean I was already in the grove -sporting with my amiable Dryad.</p> - -<p>“Sometimes I surprised her in the groves, where she had retired, amidst -the thickest foliage, and where she wished to be discovered; sometimes she -watched me when I hid myself, and, when she discovered me, fled, and I -pursued in hopes of overtaking her. But, all of a sudden, she would -inclose herself in the bark of an oak, and elude my pursuit. And when I -had sought her long in vain, she used to burst into loud fits of laughter; -then I entreated her to come out of her place of concealment, and -immediately I saw her issue, smiling, from the body of the tree.</p> - -<p>“One day that I was playing with my Dryad in the wood, she tenderly patted -my cheeks and said, ‘Press your lips against mine.’ I pressed my lips -against hers; but, heavens! what pleasure did I then experience! No, the -honey that flows from Mount Hymettus is not so sweet, nor the fruit of the -vines of Surentum; even nectar, the nectar which Ganymede presents to the -immortal gods, is a thousand times less delicious.</p> - -<p>“Then she again glued her lips to mine. In the intoxication of my -transport, I cried: ‘Oh incomparable beauty! tell me the name of this -exquisite pleasure, which glides into my very soul from thy lips, whenever -our lips meet each other?’ She answered, with a gracious smile—‘a Kiss!’â€</p> - -<p>This odd little piece of imaginative writing was printed on the same page -with a sketch of the trial of Samuel Gillam, Esq., for murder!</p> - -<p>It is not easy to conceive that the <i>Oxford Magazine</i> was very popular -among Bucks of the first head, for there were, indeed, none of the -references to toasts, accompanied by frequent sonnets, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> occupied so -large a place in the journals earlier in the century. The tone of the -paper was more sedate throughout. There was less of the bottle and -drinking bout. The contributions covered a far wider field of interest.</p> - -<p>The magazine is in some sort a combination of, or rather, perhaps, an -advance upon, <i>Jackson’s Journal</i> and <i>The Student</i>. The editors united -the ideas of both these periodicals. From the one they obtained the notion -of the monthly summary of events collected from all parts; and from the -other, the idea of illustrations and fiction. The result of this -perfectly-justifiable plagiarism was certainly popular. The magazine ran -for about eight years without financial aid in the form of advertisements, -and at the end of each issue the acknowledgment of contributions, both -articles and illustrations, made a considerable list. Obviously, -therefore, the wide diversity of subjects and the not over-serious form in -which they were served up appealed to a public which hitherto had had to -be satisfied with the half-measures of those previous men who had been -bold enough to undertake the editing of ’varsity papers.</p> - -<p>The beginning of the last decade of the century saw the <i>début</i> of <i>The -Loiterer</i>, which admittedly took its idea from Terrae Filius. Naturally, -it did not resemble it in style—the time for a Terrae Filius was -over—but in so much as Amhurst went no farther than the university gates -for his matter, <i>The Loiterer</i> may be said to have imitated him. -Consequently, the first volume (there were only two) was practically -confined to subjects of academical life. The second volume, however, was -not reserved wholly to university matters—articles of outside interest -being admitted from time to time. The whole work was offered to the world -by the editors as “a rough, but not entirely inaccurate Sketch of the -Character, the Manners, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> Amusements of Oxford, at the close of the -eighteenth century.†The paper was hawked at threepence a copy every -Saturday morning—for which price the editors promised, on their word of -honour as gentlemen and authors, to cram it as full of learning, sense, -and wit as they could possibly afford for the money. As a foretaste of the -threepenny wit to come, they stated in their foreword that they hoped to -receive some credit for one thing at least, “that particular orders have -been given to Mr Rann (the publisher) that <i>The Loiterer</i> should regularly -make his appearance at Nine o’clock, in order to be served up with the -bread and butter, crusts and muffins, and enter the room in good company. -We have been the more particular in this circumstance,†they continued, -“as it is the only hour, out of the twenty-four, in which there is a -probable chance of finding some of our Brother Loiterers at home, and the -only one in which any of them read: so genteel and so useful indeed is -this love of morning study, that were it not for the necessity of eating -breakfast, and of dressing hair, it is to be doubted whether some of our -numerous fraternity would not, in a short time, forget their letters.â€</p> - -<p>This serving up with breakfast was a very wise move on the editors’ part, -for they knew from experience that it was the only hour when they stood -the least chance of being read—the rest of the day being passed by most -men in the strenuous occupation of killing time. The writer of article -number four in <i>The Loiterer</i> was on his way to a lecture one morning when -he saw a man whom he knew leaning against the college gate with a vacant -expression on his serene countenance. Thinking that the poor fellow did -not know what to do with himself, the writer offered to take him to the -lecture which, he said, was to be remarkably entertaining. The lounger was -most polite in his thanks, and said he should have liked it above all -things,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> but that at the moment he was extremely busy and really had not -time. The writer, a little surprised, left him and attended the lecture, -returning two hours later to find the man leaning against the same -gate-post in nearly the same attitude.</p> - -<p>In the face of such stagnation who shall deny the wisdom of sending the -paper in with the hot roll, thereby catching the time-killers before they -have begun their day’s task? The writer concluded his narrative of ancient -lounging and reflections on the passing of the law whereby Undergraduates -were forbidden under severe penalties to loiter away their time in sitting -on Pennyless Bench, by giving the diary of a week in the life of an -Undergraduate in 1789. It is an extremely excellent and amusing piece of -work, which shows that there were past-masters in the gentle art of -slacking who seriously challenge some of the present-day exponents.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">Diary of a Modern Oxford Man</span> (1789).</p> - -<p>“<i>Sunday.</i>—Waked at eight o’clock by the scout, to tell me the bell -was going for prayers—wonder those scoundrels are allowed to make -such a noise—tried to get to sleep again, but could not—sat up and -read Hoyle in bed—ten, got up and breakfasted—Charles called to ask -me to ride—agreed to stay until the President was gone to -Church—half after eleven, rode out, going down the High Street saw -Will Sagely going to St Mary’s—can’t think what people go to church -for. Twelve to two, rode round Bullington Green, met Careless and a -new Freshman of Trinity—engaged them to dine with me—two to three, -lounged at the stable, made the Freshman ride over the Bail, talked to -him about horses: see he knows nothing about the matter—went home and -dressed—three to eight, dinner and wine—remarkable pleasant -evening—sold Rackett’s stone horse for him to Careless’s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>friend for -fifty guineas—certainly break his neck—eight to ten, coffee-house, -and lounged in the High Street—Stranger went home to study; am afraid -he’s a bad one—engaged to hunt to-morrow and dine with -Rackett—twelve, supped and went to bed early, in order to get up -to-morrow.</p> - -<p>“<i>Monday.</i>—Racket <i>rowed</i> me up at seven o’clock—sleepy and queer, -but forced to get up and make breakfast for him—eight to five in the -afternoon, hunting—famous run, and killed near Bicester—number of -tumbles—Freshman out on Rackett’s stone horse—got the devil of a -fall into a ditch—horse upon him—but don’t know whether he was -killed or not. Five, dressed and went to dine with Rackett—Dean had -cross’d his name, and no dinner to be got—went to the Angel and -dined—famous evening till eleven, when the Proctors came and told us -to go home to our colleges—went directly the contrary way—eleven to -one, went down into St Thomas’s and fought a raff—one, dragged home -by somebody, the Lord knows whom, and put to bed.</p> - -<p>“<i>Tuesday.</i>—Very bruised and sore, did not get up till twelve—found -an imposition on my table—mem. to give it to the hairdresser—drank -six dishes of tea—did not know what to do with myself, so wrote to my -father for money. Half after one, put on my boots to ride for an -hour—met Careless at the stable—rode together—asked me to dine with -him and meet Jack Sedley, who is just returned from France—two to -three, returned home and dressed—four to seven, dinner and wine—Jack -very pleasant—told some good stories—says the French women have -thick legs—no hunting to be got, and very little wine—won’t go there -in a hurry—seven, went to the stable, and then looked in at the -coffee-house—very few drunken men, and nothing going forwards—agreed -to play Sedley at billiards—Walker’s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>table engaged, and forced to -go to the Blue Posts—lost two guineas—thought I could have beat him, -but the dog has been practising in France—ten, supper at -Careless’s—bought Sedley’s mare for thirty guineas—think he knows -nothing of a horse, and believe I have done him. Drank a little punch -and went to bed at twelve.</p></div> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img12tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img12.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Off to a Badger-Baiting.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“<i>Wednesday.</i>—Hunted with the Duke of B.—very long run, rode the new -mare, found her sinking, so pulled up in time and swore I had a shoe -lost—to sell her directly—buy no more horses of Sedley—knows more -than I thought he did.—Four, returned home, and as I was dressing to -dine with Sedley, received a note from some country neighbours of my -father’s to desire me to dine at the Cross—obliged to send an excuse -to Sedley—wanted to put on my cap and gown—cap broke and gown not to -be found, forced to borrow—half after four to ten, at the Cross with -my <i>Lions</i>—very <i>loving</i> evening indeed—ten, found it too bad, so -got up and told them it was against the rules of the university to be -out later.</p> - -<p>“<i>Thursday.</i>—Breakfasted at the Cross, and walked all the morning -about Oxford with my Lions—terrible flat work—Lions very -troublesome—asked an hundred and fifty silly questions about every -thing they saw. Wanted me to explain the Latin inscriptions on the -monuments in Christ Church Chapel!—Wanted to know how we spent our -time!—forced to give answers as well as I could. Four, forced to give -them a dinner and, what was worse, to sit with them till six, when I -told them I was engaged for the rest of the evening, and sent them -about their business—seven, dropped in at Careless’s rooms, found him -with a large party, all pretty much <i>cut</i>—thought it was a good time -to sell him Sedley’s mare, but he was not quite drunk enough—made a -bet with him that I trotted my poney from Benson to Oxford within the -hour—sure of winning, for I did it the other day in fifty minutes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>“<i>Friday.</i>—Got up early and rode the poney a foot pace over to Benson -to breakfast—Old Shrub breaks fast—told him of the bet and showed -him the poney—shook his head and looked cunning when he heard of -it—good sign—after breakfast rode the race, and won easy, but could -not get any money; forced to take Careless’s draught; daresay its not -worth two pence; great fool to bet with him. Twelve till three, -lounged at the stable, and cut my horse’s tail—eat soup at -Sadler’s—walked down the High Street—met Rackett, who wanted me to -dine with him, but could not because I was engaged to Sagely—three, -dinner at Sagely’s—very bad—dined, in a cold hall, and could get -nothing to eat—wine new—a bad fire—tea-kettle put on at five -o’clock—played at Whist for sixpences, and no bets—thought I should -have gone to sleep—terrible work dining with a studious man—eleven, -went to bed out of spirits.</p> - -<p>“<i>Saturday.</i>—Ten, breakfast—attempted to read <i>The Loiterer</i>; but it -was too stupid; flung it down and took up ‘Bartlett’s Farriery’—had -not read two pages before a dun came, told him I should have some -money soon—would not be gone—offered him brandy—was sulky, and -would not have any—saw he was going to be <i>savage</i>, so kicked him -downstairs to prevent his being impertinent. Thought perhaps I might -have more of them, so went to lounge at the stables—poney got a bad -cough—and the black horse thrown out two splints—went back to my -room in an ill-humour—found a letter from my father, no money and a -great deal of advice—wants to know how my last quarter’s allowance -went—how the devil should I know?—he knows I keep no accounts—do -think fathers are the greatest <i>Bores</i> in nature. Very low-spirited -and flat all the morning—some thought of reforming, but luckily -Careless came in to beg me to meet our party at his rooms, so altered -my mind, dined with him, and by nine in the evening was very happy.â€</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>It is amazing to think how many men there are in this year of grace -nineteen hundred and eleven who, if they should take it into their heads -to keep a diary, would have to write down page after page of exactly the -same stuff, would express exactly the same sentiments about their father, -and whose projects of a lasting reform would be for ever scattered by just -such a careless tap upon their oak. And yet it is written: <i>Tempora -mutantur</i>!</p> - -<p><i>The Loiterer</i> was not sold only to the local public at Oxford. It had a -quite large outside circulation, with agents in London, Birmingham, Bath, -and Reading, and ran for a year and three months. At the end of this -period the authors, the principal ones, revealed their identity and -retired from the editorial pinnacle into the comparative oblivion of their -Fellowships, having cause to congratulate themselves upon no small -success.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> -<p class="title">’VARSITY LITERATURE—(<i>continued</i>)</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center"><i>The Oxford Packet.</i>—<i>Academia: or the Humours of Oxford.</i>—<i>The -Oxford Act.</i>—<i>The Oxford Sausage.</i>—Present and latter day literature summed up.</p></div> - - -<p>There were many other minor literary outputs which made their appearance -from time to time through the century, but it would be tedious to analyse -all of them. The outstanding ones were <i>The Oxford Packet</i>, <i>Academia: or -the Humours of Oxford</i>, <i>The Oxford Act</i>, Tom Warton’s fighting poem -entitled <i>The Triumph of Isis</i>, and <i>The Oxford Sausage</i>.</p> - -<p><i>The Oxford Packet</i> was a purely topical piece of writing containing -heated articles on the burning questions of the moment in Oxford. It was -published in London, “printed for J. Roberts in 1714,†with a list of -contents including “(1) News from Magdalene College (Sacheverell’s -Inscription on a piece of plate); (2) Antigamus: or a Satire against -Marriage, written by Mr Thomas Sawyer; (3) A Vindication of the <i>Oxford</i> -Ladies, wherein are displayed the amours of some Gentlemen of <i>All Souls</i> -and <i>St John’s Colleges</i>.â€</p> - -<p><i>Academia</i>, perpetrated by a woman, Alicia d’Anvers, ridiculed the manners -and customs of the university in a pointed and quite scurrilous manner. It -lived up to its sub-title, however, for it was an extremely humorous piece -of work.</p> - -<p>In 1733 there appeared the <i>The Oxford Act</i>, a ballad opera. A crude and -unamusing play, it is nevertheless interesting as containing the germ of -modern musical comedy. The idea of the piece was to satirise university -politics, but the lack of construction and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> laboured manner in which -the dramatist introduced his songs and manÅ“uvred his characters makes -it tedious and rather difficult to appreciate.</p> - -<p><i>The Triumph of Isis</i> was occasioned by a denunciation of Oxford by a -Cambridge man, William Mason, who was guilty of a poem entitled <i>Isis</i>. In -it he taunted Oxford upon the degeneracy of her sons who</p> - -<p class="poem"><span style="margin-left: 8em;">“... madly bold</span><br /> -To Freedom’s foes infernal orgies hold.â€</p> - -<p>This was more than any devoted son of <i>Alma mater</i> could stand. -Accordingly, Tom Warton, stung to a retort, girded up his loins and flung -off <i>The Triumph of Isis</i>, in which he hurled ten thousand thunderbolts at -<i>The Venal Sons of Slavish Cam</i>. Dr Anderson, who wrote a preface to the -collection of Warton’s poems, says, “It is remarkable that though neither -Mason nor Warton ever excelled these performances, each of them as by -consent, when he first collected his poems into a volume, omitted his own -party production.â€<a name='fna_23' id='fna_23' href='#f_23'><small>[23]</small></a></p> - -<p>It was not until 1764 that <i>The Oxford Sausage</i> was concocted. Its title -is singularly apt. It was a volume of choice scraps—selected pieces in -prose and verse which had already made their appearance in other and -earlier publications. It included several poems by Tom Warton, who edited -<i>The Sausage</i>, and contained others from <i>The Student</i> and the <i>Oxford -Journal</i>.</p> - -<p>These then are the literary productions which distinguished the eighteenth -century in Oxford. From the numerous excerpts and passages quoted in -preceding chapters it will have been seen that there is not only an -enormous difference between the writing of the eighteenth century and -to-day in style and treatment, but in the method of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> conducting a paper. -To-day it is quite impossible to call a spade a spade. In those days it -was exactly the opposite. The whole point of writing was to call things by -their proper names. In fact, any other method would have been completely -misunderstood. The morals of the time were not more lax than now—that -would be impossible—but the language employed was, to put it mildly, very -much more unguarded.</p> - -<p>Matters were openly discussed in the drawing-rooms of the eighteenth -century which nowadays are supposed to be whispered in smoking-rooms. -Drunkenness and other kindred vices were held in high esteem. It was “the -thing†for him who had any aspirations to be a man of the world to have a -half dozen bottles of wine to his own cheek at one sitting, and unless he -succeeded in arriving at that state of helplessness which necessitated -bodily assistance from persons unknown, he was a dismal social failure. -Women, whose husbands were carried home night after night, smiled -leniently and did not dream of interfering. Many ladies indeed did not -deny themselves the solace of the bottle, and in the records of the time I -have found more than one reference to women who were well-known, almost -licensed, topers. The question of toasts, too, and the light in which the -university held them, was Gilbertian. The statutes sternly forbade them -under penalty of dire pains and punishments, but for all practical -purposes the statutes were a waste of time. Oxford was famed for her -toasts, and their dealings were not confined solely to the gownsmen but -also to Dons and Heads of colleges, who, far from carrying out the -statutes which they had made, pooh-poohed them and indulged themselves to -their heart’s content.</p> - -<p>With such a condition of things it is not very remarkable that the -literature of the time should be characterised by coarseness of language -and ideas. Its humour was of the riper kind which permitted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> of no -possible misunderstanding. Many of the jokes printed in such periodicals -as the <i>Oxford Journal</i> and the <i>Oxford Magazine</i>—both papers in high -repute which circulated among Dons, Undergraduates and residents—would be -quite unprintable to-day even in the most yellow of the sporting papers. -The pen of Amhurst was hampered by no considerations of delicacy or -modesty. Whatever he felt on any subject that he wrote, boldly and without -mincing, and the fact that his articles were read with interest and -delight by male and female alike is proof that there is no blame attaching -to him for scurrility. He was merely in the period. There are also -instances of women who wrote with almost the same degree of frankness as -did Alicia d’Anvers, who had, as I have shown, an immodesty of style -unique in the entire century. She satirised all the manners, customs, -hobbies and vices of the university with flagrant lack of good taste -which, judging by the characteristics of the time, made her poem a great -success.</p> - -<p>In the eighteenth century there were neither advertisements—except in the -<i>Oxford Journal</i>, and they were few in number—nor athletic fixtures. The -editors, therefore, had to rely entirely upon the merits of the articles -printed in their paper. Their sole hope of life lay in circulation, and as -they had not then discovered such “adventitious aids†as idols and open -letters, they were forced to do their utmost to make their paper bright -and readable. That they did so is obvious from the great number of -contributors who sent in articles regularly, and that, too, without any -hope of payment.</p> - -<p>From the point of view of journalism there is no paper in Oxford to-day -which can survive a comparison with Terrae Filius. He did not go outside -the university for his subjects, and yet in each paper he was topical, -forcible, and to the point. Beyond this he was amusing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> and there was a -sting in each single word which made the unhappy subject of his attack -squirm in his place. He did not indulge in long-winded and abortive -discussions about matters of no interest whatever to the university, such -as are invariably to be seen in twentieth-century papers. He instinctively -hit upon the only subject each week that was before the eye of Oxford, and -in straightforward, pithy language wrote it down, laughed at it, or cried -over it. In whatever spirit he treated it he left nothing more to be said. -He used it up, exhausted it, and turned to the next point. Not having any -advertisers to consider—and he would certainly not have considered them -had they existed—he said what he wanted to say without fear or favour, -and if he did not attain to such financial success as does the milk and -water stuff of to-day, he did establish, beyond all argument, a reputation -which has already survived two centuries. Which of the existing Oxford -journals can hope to compete against such a record?</p> - -<p>However much eighteenth-century writers merit the charge of -coarseness—and it is not laid at their door in the spirit of blame but -merely as an illustration of things as they existed—they undoubtedly -attained a higher literary standard than the Undergraduate writers of -to-day. As, however, I have said that the modern standard does not rise -above mediocrity, I am not paying a very great compliment to the writers -of the Rowlandson period. Such is, however, my intention, for I cannot see -that there is such great brilliance in the eighteenth-century papers as to -justify my launching out into paeans of adulation. In all the publications -of the time there were, as I have shown, some excellent pieces of writing. -The sonnets and epigrams, dashed off at the coffee-houses to the beauties -of the reigning toast, were filled with classical allusions and subtle -parallels. This is somewhat remarkable because the Bloods admittedly never -did any reading. They had no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> time for it. However likeable and readable -these were, there was no genius, no striking merit in any of them. They -certainly showed more promise than the greater part of the work of -twentieth-century Oxford men—a point which is emphasised by the fact that -our predecessors were generally three or four years younger on going up to -the university. To-day we go up at about nineteen years of age. In those -days it was the fashion for men to arrive in Oxford in their fifteenth or -sixteenth year.</p> - -<p>With the exception of Nicholas Amhurst, from whom I have drawn with so -much pleasure, there can be found no Undergraduate of Georgian times whose -genius, in however crude a form, awoke in the pages of university -literature.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> -<p class="title">THE OXFORD TRADESMAN</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center"><i>The Student’s</i> opinion of one—A Tradesman’s poem and its -result—Dodging the dun—Debt and its penalties—Tradesmen’s taste in -literature—Advertising and <i>The Loiterer</i>—Tick—Dr Newton, -innkeeper—Amhurst’s confession—Fathers and trainers of toasts.</p></div> - - -<p>Like Nemesis, the Oxford tradesman has sooner or later to be reckoned -with. His methods are, and for that matter always were, rather -spider-like. He sets out a beautiful and enticing web in his shop window, -and sits placidly in the darkness of his back parlour to await results. -One after another the Undergraduates, foolish flies, dash in; and then, -when they have been given sufficient time—a year or so—the spider -pounces and demands his just, but frequently exorbitant, dues. Sometimes -he does not get them. Spiders, however, rarely come in for any sympathy.</p> - -<p>The old-time Oxford tradesman was undoubtedly a man of parts. In all the -periodicals of the time are to be found odes, couplets, and prose-writings -all singing his praise. He constituted a factor of importance in the daily -routine of eighteenth-century life. It must, indeed, have been a sick -Smart who did not visit daily his barber and <i>perruquier</i>, his -horse-dealer, his tobacco merchant, his mercer and tailor, his -coffee-house. These worthy townsmen seem to have been, in fact, the sole -<i>raison d’être</i> of the Smart’s university career, and their pseudo -erudition and quite exceptional powers were the cause of an enthusiastic -article from the pen of <i>The Student</i>.</p> - -<p>“A tradesman of Oxford,†he wrote, “is no more like another common -tradesman than some collegians are like other men ... the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> very sign-posts -express their taste for learning and superiour education. Our mercers, -milliners, taylors, etc., etc., have shewn their nice judgments in the art -of designing, by the many curious emblematical devices that so eminently -adorn the entrances to their shops. How sublime are the signs of our -innkeepers! the Angel, the Cross, the Mitre, the Maidenhead, with many -others, are too well known to need mentioning. A tooth drawer amongst us -denotes his occupation by an excellent poetical distich; a second with -great propriety stiles himself operator for the teeth: and my printer who -sells James’s fever powder, Greenough’s tinctures, Hoopers’ female pills, -and the like, exhibits to our view in large golden letters over his door -the pompous denomination of Medicinal Warehouse. Nor are we at all -surprised to see written in this learned university, tho’ over a female -bookseller’s door, ‘BIBLIOPOLIUM MARIAE,’ etc.</p> - -<p>“Not to dwell too minutely on externals, every tradesman with us is a -mathematician, or philosopher, or divine, or critick, and what not? But -they are all to a man particularly famous for their skill in arithmetick. -For my own part I never dealt with one yet who was not thoroughly -practised in addition and multiplication.</p> - -<p>“I know an ale-houseman (he sells an excellent pot of ale) who has made -several experiments in electricity, but without a machine: I know a -grocer, a profound reasoner and speculative moralist, a bookbinder deeply -read in Geography, Chorography, etc., and a glazier, a great -mathematician, who has squar’d the circle several time <i>all but a little -bit</i>. A barber has published a cutting poem lately, which is universally -admired, and all his own making. It is not to be doubted that our Oxford -booksellers are excellent criticks. They can tell you the character of a -book by only looking at the title page. My own, in particular, is so fine -a judge of composition, that he begs me not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> to send anything to the press -till it has been submitted to his correction. Besides, I know he has a -strong desire to begin author himself, but his singular modesty will not -permit him to own it. He has, therefore, prevailed with me to erect a -small box, with a slit, in his door to receive the contributions of those -writers who chuse to be concealed. As I know the man’s vanity will oblige -him sometimes to put in his mite, I desire the reader, when he meets with -anything particularly dull, to suppose it written, not by me, but my -bookseller.</p> - -<p>“I have often heard two learned tradesmen chop logick together on the most -sublime topicks. Once, in particular, I was present at a very important -dispute, when a shoemaker (a very honest fellow) affirmed, to the general -satisfaction of his audience, that the world was eternal from the -beginning, and would be so to the end of it. At another time, the -discourse running upon politics, a mercer (no small man, I can assure you) -wonder’d what a duce we would have. ‘I’m sure,’ says he, ‘there’s not a -happier Island in England than Great Britain; and a man may chuse his own -Religion, that he may, whether it be Mahometism or Infidelity.’ A little -while ago I lent my Smith’s harmonicks to my Musick-master, who has since -return’d it, assuring me that it is not worth a farthing; for ’twould -teach me the Thievery mayhap, but as for the Practicks, he’ll put me into -a betterer method. I could produce many more such instances which I have -gleaned from their conversations; but these will be sufficient to convince -the world that no subject is too high, no point too intricate for their -exalted capacities.... I cannot conclude better than by giving a specimen -of an Oxford tradesman’s poetical genius, in an extract of a letter from -my taylor, who (in the college phrase) put the dun upon me. In my answer I -advised him to peruse Philips’s description of a dun in his splendid -shilling: to which he made me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> this reply.... ‘But now to that which, you -say, breaks all friendship, a dun, horrible monster! I have <i>bruis’d</i> -Philips, though, in some places too hard. As to the appellation, I cannot -think it rightly apply’d.’</p> - -<p class="poem">“For I<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Ne’er yet did thunder with my vocal heel,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Nor call’d yet thrice with hideous accent dire;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But only with my pen declar’d my dread,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">What most I fear’d, the horrid catch-pole’s claw.</span><br /> -<br /> -“But you,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whom fortune’s blest with splendid shilling worth,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Ne’er fears the monster’s horrid faded brow,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Fed with the produce of blest Alb’on’s isle,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">With juice of Gallic and Hispernian</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Fruits, that doe chearful make the heart of man,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thus sink my muse into the deep abyss,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">As low as Styx or Stygia’s bottom is.â€</span></p> - -<p>“<i>N.B.</i>‗wrote <i>The Student</i> in italics at the foot of this wonderful poem, -“I have paid him.â€</p> - -<p>There is a certain amount of pathos underlying that delightful piece of -mock praise. The thought of the mercers, grocers, shoemakers, and the rest -honestly believing themselves to have attained to a most unusual degree of -learning, by reason of their propinquity to a university, and parading -their monumental ignorance under that belief, is a very painful one. It is -even more painful, looking to the fact that most tradesmen, connected in -any way with Academic Oxford, read <i>The Student</i> regularly, to know that -the above stream of ridicule did not enlighten them as to the truth.</p> - -<p>Another man who had evidently had the dun put upon him, not once but many -times, by sulky tradesmen, received (so at least it is to be supposed) an -unexpected windfall with which he settled all outstanding debts. The -wonderful and unaccustomed feeling of showing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> a clean slate was so strong -that he was moved to an ecstasy of versification to relieve himself.</p> - -<p class="poem">“The man, who not a farthing owes,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Looks down with scornful eye on those</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Who rise by fraud and cunning,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Tho’ in the Pig-market he stand</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">With aspect grave and clear-starched band,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He fear’s no tradesmen’s dunning.</span><br /> -<br /> -“He passes by each shop in town,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Nor hides his face beneath his gown,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">No dread his heart invading;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He quaffs the nectar of the Tuns</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Or on a spur-gall’d hackney runs</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">To London, masquerading.</span><br /> -<br /> -“Place me on Scotland’s bleakest hill,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Provided I can pay my bill,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hang every thought of sorrow,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">There falling sleet, or frost, or rain</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Attack a soul resolv’d in vain;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">It may be fair to-morrow.â€</span></p> - -<p>From the fact that the man in debt had to hide his head beneath his gown -in order to get past the shops safely or else to pursue the longer but -less risky method of slinking down back streets so as to avoid meeting -creditors, it is certain that the shopkeeper who had lost his patience, -and was intent on nothing but getting his money back, was looked upon as a -fearsome and dreaded creature. His war tactics, aided by free access to -his customer’s rooms, consisted of serving writs freely—putting the dun -upon his victims. One way to evade the serving was to sport the oak and -remain in voluntary confinement. Such a method was not, however, popular -as there was no alternative but work to relieve the tedium of such -imprisonment. Another way was described in the diary of a modern Oxford<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> -man in <i>The Loiterer</i>. This “modern†gentleman was slacking away the -boring hour after breakfast in the perusal of “Bartlett’s Farriery†when -there came a tap at his door, and in strode a dun with an insolent smirk. -The Undergraduate politely explained that he was shortly expecting a very -healthy windfall from home, upon receipt of which he would immediately pay -what was owing. The dun received this news with cold disbelief and refused -to be put off. Upon being offered brandy he became “sulky,†and refused -with a touch of irritation. Then the Undergraduate, enraged at such -insolence, rose in his wrath and kicked the fellow down stairs to stop him -from becoming more impertinent.</p> - -<p>The dun must have possessed a curious character. Knowing well the -propensities of Undergraduates, he did not, like a wise man, imbibe the -liquid refreshment so generously offered to him, and depart with the -knowledge that payment, for that day at least, was impossible. Instead, he -refused brandy and waited to be kicked out—without, apparently, having -served his writ.</p> - -<p>The question of advertising was in those days only in its infancy. The -tradesman patronised Jackson’s <i>Oxford Journal</i> to a certain extent. In it -are to be found curiously worded announcements of medicines, books, -cock-fights, curacies to be drunk or eaten for, dancing masters who were -exclusive to the peerage, election paragraphs, and public notices; while -advertisements for wives and husbands, or loans of money, were not -infrequent. One of the most up-to-date and cunning methods then practised -was for two rival tradesmen to get up a mock ink-slinging match in the -columns of some periodical, and week after week furiously to denounce each -other as cheats, tricksters, and knaves, the one saying that the other -sold inferior goods, and <i>vice versâ</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span><i>The Loiterer</i>, prowling round incognito in search of copy for his next -issue, witnessed a “circumstance†as he calls it, connected with -advertisements, which is not unamusing. He was seated in his favourite -elbow chair in his usual corner at King’s coffee-room, and had almost -despaired of picking up an idea, when he noticed a very reverend and -respectable gentleman who was apparently quite unknown to every one in the -room, and who seemed more engrossed in his own thoughts than amused by the -newspaper he was reading or the laughter and talk from the others in the -coffee-room. Suddenly, calling for his bill, he finished reading a -paragraph in the paper with upraised eyebrows and a note of horrified -surprise in his voice. “Upwards of forty thousand persons of both sexes! -Good God,†he said, “what a state must the cities of London and -Westminster be in!†The elderly gentleman rose, and on his way out placed -the paper into <i>The Loiterer’s</i> hand. Every one in the room had heard his -remark and observed the manner of his exit. Immediately, therefore, there -was great excitement, every one wondering what amazing thing had happened -that could have escaped his notice while reading that very paper. <i>The -Loiterer</i> began calmly to read solidly through column after column to find -this wonderfully exciting paragraph. While he was doing so a thin, -emaciated man “with a sallow and diseased countenance who, I have now -reason to believe was one of the forty thousand, stepped forward and -elucidated the mystery in a moment.â€</p> - -<p>He rapped out an oath and swore that the old gentleman had been meditating -on the advertisement of Leake’s Justly Famous Pill.</p> - -<p>From this perturbing episode in the coffee-house <i>The Loiterer</i> got the -idea of using his paper for the discussion of the peculiarities of -advertisement indulged in by tradesmen, local and otherwise. “I shall pass -over,†he says, “the various wants of mankind, together with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> pompous -Descriptions, the florid and luxuriant Language of Auctioneers which is -capable of converting a paltry Cottage into an elegant Villa. Nor shall I -dwell on a curious Phenomenon, a political Advertisement for the Sale of -Perfumery and the Dressing of Hair. But it is impossible with the same -indifference to pass over the ingenious Mr —— who sells his Wines ‘for -the πόδας ὠκÏÏ‚ of ready Money only, Wines in which neither the -eyes of Argus, nor the Taste of Epicurus, can discover the least -sophistication.’</p> - -<p>“One advertisement informs us, that Chimney pieces, another that -Candlesticks, are ‘fashioned according to architectonic Models, and -agreeable to the affecting chastity of the Antique.’ A third lets us know -how much we are obliged to the Legislature, ‘that he is now enabled to -offer Pomatum to the public agreeable to the commercial Treaty’.... What -Lady, ‘who excites admiration on account of the superior charms that -animate her Complexion,’ can withstand an Advertisement of the Palmyrene -Soap? Every systematical old Fellow that wishes to know the exact number -of yards which he walks in a day, will certainly furnish himself with ‘the -Pedometer, or Way-wiser.’ And I make no manner of doubt that all the -Gentlemen Sportsmen of this University will find it impossible to resist -the persuasive nonsense and absurdity of ‘Guns matchless for shooting; or -twisted barrels, bored on an improved plan, that will always maintain -their true velocity, and not let the Birds fly away after being shot, as -they generally do with Guns not properly bored, this method of boring Guns -will enable every Shooter to Kill his Bird, as they are sure of their mark -at ninety yards; he bores any sound Barrel for Two Guineas, and he makes -them much stronger than before.’ If we take this Fellow’s own word we must -allow him, without a pun, to be the greatest Borer in the kingdom.â€</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>The system of “tick†seems to have been very simple. It was only necessary -to enter a shop and order things in large quantities for the tradesman to -allow credit. In the case of dirty Dick, who was lured into becoming a fop -by the report of the appreciative remarks which the lady Flavia was -supposed to have made about him, the only thing which had to be done to -gull the ever-obliging tradesman was to spread a rumour that the sloven -had come in for a legacy. The result was instantaneous, and Dick became a -Smart; but whether anybody was ever paid is not on record. The various -inns, ale-houses, coffee-houses and wig-makers had little need to -advertise. The Undergraduates did that for them. In nearly every poem and -sonnet that ever was written the praises are sung of Tom’s or James’s or -Clapham’s or Lyne’s or Hamilton’s, while the great Tom Warton immortalises -three “Peruke-Makers†in his <i>Ode to a Grizzle-Wig</i>.</p> - -<p class="poem">“Can thus large wigs our Reverence engage?<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Have Barbers thus the Pow’r to blind our Eyes?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Is Science thus conferr’d on every Sage,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">By Bayliss, Blenkinsop, and lofty Wise?â€</span></p> - -<p>While on the subject of innkeepers there is an example of the consummate -impudence of Terrae Filius which is most worthy of note. He compared the -Rev. Dr Newton, Principal of Hart Hall, to an innkeeper, in a letter upon -Dr Newton’s book entitled “University Education.â€</p> - -<p>“Some persons it seems,†wrote Amhurst, “have entertained a notion, that -your hall is no more than an inn, of which you are the host, and your -scholars the guests. I am sorry, sir, to say that there seems to be some -reason in this notion, however merrily you may please to treat it. For do -you not, like other innkeepers, get your living, and maintain your family -by letting lodgings, and keeping an ordinary for all comers?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> Are you not -licens’d for so doing, like other innkeepers and retalers of beer, though -by a different hand? Indeed, you sell logick and other sorts of learning, -as well as provisions for eating and drinking; but that cannot destroy the -character of an innkeeper, which you certainly are in all other respects, -but only proves that you deal in some particulars which your brethren of -the trade do not.... You have, no doubt, the same right, with other -innkeepers, to bring in a bill, and demand your reckoning, when you -please; which I do not hear that Mr Seaman, or any other of your guests -ever refused to pay; but I believe you are the only landlord in town who -would offer to detain his guests by force, after they had paid their -reckoning, and oblige them to spend more of their money in his house, -whether they will or not.â€</p> - -<p>All these subtle parallels were, of course, not intended as compliments. -To call a Head of a Hall an innkeeper is not exactly to take off one’s hat -to him. But Amhurst forgot that in a previous chapter he made a proud -confession of his own humble origin. His discourse was of great men sprung -from small beginnings.</p> - -<p>“What,†he asked, “was of old the famous Cardinal Wolsey but a butcher’s -son?... Nay, to go no farther, even I myself, overgrown as I am in fame -and wealth, stiled by all unprejudiced and sensible persons the instructor -of mankind, and the reformer of the two universities, am by birth but an -humble plebeian, the younger son of an ale-house keeper in Wapping, who -was for several years in doubt which to make of me, a philosopher, or a -sailor: but at length birthright prevailing, I was sent to Oxford, scholar -of a college, and my elder brother a cabin boy to the West Indies.â€</p> - -<p>But why drag in Wolsey?</p> - -<p>In King Charles’s letter against the women of the university of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> Cambridge -he banned the houses of all taverners, inn-holders or victuallers. It was -this class of tradesmen in Oxford who brought up their daughters as -toasts. This was the reason why a statute was passed “Prohibiting all -scholars, as well Graduates as Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to -frequent the houses and shops of any tradesmen by day, and especially by -night....â€</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> -<p class="title">THE DON</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Tutors—Their slackness—The real and the ideal tutor—Dr Newton on -tutor’s fees—Dr Johnson’s recommendation of Bateman—Public -lecturers—Terrae Filius and a Wadham man’s letter.</p></div> - - -<p>Just as the schoolmaster is considered the natural enemy of boys, so is -the Don popularly credited with being the natural enemy of the -Undergraduates. The originator of this wonderful theory is presumably the -lady novelist who, with no deeper knowledge of Oxford than that obtained -from a minute study of the coloured photographs in railway trains, has -pictured the Don in her vivid imagination to be a crusty, inhuman, and -gouty septuagenarian who, in the intervals of delivering abstruse -lectures, passes his days in sending men down and otherwise suppressing -all vitality and humanity.</p> - -<p>Anything more completely ridiculous it would be impossible to imagine. -Conceive a body of charming and delightful men, very kindly and -sympathetic, always ready to go out of their way to help a man in -financial or moral difficulties, cultured, intellectual, hard working, -thorough sportsmen in the best sense of that much abused word, full of -loyalty to their college and to the university, delighted by the athletic -or scholastic triumphs of the men with whom they are in close contact—and -then you do not obtain anything more than a true description of those men -who do so much to uphold the honour of the university, and who are -remembered with respect and even affection by the generations of -Undergraduates who pass through their hands.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>The eighteenth-century Don, on the contrary, was a person altogether -different. In the desire to bring out the light and shade of his -personality I am frustrated by the superabundance of the latter and the -minute quantity of the former. In dealing with the Georgian Don I have -taken each species separately: the Tutor, the Lecturer, the Examiner, the -Head of a college, and so forth.</p> - -<p>It appears that the old-time fresher, having been admitted to a college, -was at once recommended to a tutor whom he interviewed in his rooms. The -Hoxton man, who came up with his mother and his dad, found himself called -upon by his prospective tutor to sit down and make small work of several -quarts of liquid refreshment to the healths of various “traitors.†Being -somewhat flurried at this boisterous reception, the lad was assured that -he did not come to the university to pray, and that in any case, he, the -tutor, would look after him like a father. Of being called upon to do any -work with him there was no whisper. Gibbon, on the other hand, on being -placed under the tutorship of Dr Waldegrave, was desired to attend that -gentleman’s rooms each morning from ten to eleven and read the <i>Comedies -of Terence</i>. This he accordingly did, but with so little advantage to -himself that, after a few weeks, he quietly dropped away and saw his tutor -no more. To counterbalance the accusation of slackness against Dr -Waldegrave, Gibbon described him as having been a “learned and pious man -of a mild disposition, strict morals and abstemious life, who seldom -mingled in the politics or jollity of the college.†This worthy man -departed from the precincts of Magdalen, and Gibbon had nothing good to -say for his successor. “The second tutor,†wrote Gibbon, “whose literary -character did not command the respect of the college, well remembered that -he had a salary to receive, and only forgot that he had a duty to -perform.... Excepting one voluntary visit to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> rooms during the titular -months of his office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same college as -strangers to each other.â€</p> - -<p>The vindicator of Magdalen leaped into the breach on behalf of the tutors -against Gibbon, and gave a hundred reasons why Gibbon was in the wrong. -But there are numberless other instances of utter laziness among that -section of the Don world. Malmesbury, for instance, related in his usual -cheery and optimistic manner, that his tutor, “an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practice of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to do trigonometry.†This witness matriculated at -Merton thirteen years after Gibbon’s time.</p> - -<p>Another example of bad tutorship may be quoted from William Fitzmaurice, -second Earl of Shelburne, who went up in 1753. “At sixteen, I went to -Christ Church, where I had again the misfortune to fall under a -narrow-minded tutor.... He was not without learning, and certainly laid -himself out to be serviceable to me in point of reading.... I came full of -prejudices. My tutor added to those prejudices by connecting me with the -anti-Westminsters, who were far from the most fashionable part of the -college, and a small minority.â€<a name='fna_24' id='fna_24' href='#f_24'><small>[24]</small></a></p> - -<p>In the light of these adverse criticisms it is interesting to note the -statutorial view as to the ideal tutor. According to Amhurst, who quoted -statute (<i>d</i>), it was ordained that “no person shall be a tutor who has -not taken a degree in some faculty, and is not (in the judgment in the -head of the college or hall to which he belongs) a man of approv’d -learning, probity and sincere religion.†But can these requirements be -called sufficient if the hundreds of tutors against whom their pupils -flung accusations of slackness, drunkenness, and other hobbies, all -satisfied them?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span><i>The Loiterer</i>, evidently with this insufficent statute in mind, made some -very intelligent remarks <i>à propos</i> of this question. “Scarce any office,†-he wrote, “demands so many different requisites in those who would fill it -properly, as that of a college Tutor, and in none perhaps is propriety of -Choice so little attended to. The Tutor of a College goes off to a Living, -dies of an Apoplexy, or is otherwise provided for; a Successor must be -found; and as few who have better prospects chuse to undertake so -disagreeable an office, the Society is sometimes under the necessity of -appointing a person, who is no further qualified for it than by the -possession of a little classical, or mathematical information. With this -slender stock of knowledge, and without any acquaintance with the World or -any insight into Characters, He enters on his office with more Zeal than -Discretion, asserts his own opinions with arrogance and maintains them -with obstinacy, calls Contradiction, Contumacy, and Reply, Pertness, and -deals out his Jobations, Impositions, and Confinements, to every ill-fated -Junior who is daring enough to oppose his sentiments, or doubt his -opinions. The consequence of this is perfectly natural. He treats his -pupils as Boys and they think him a Brute. From that moment all his power -of doing good ceases; for we learn nothing from him, who has forfeited our -confidence. Such is the Portrait of what Tutors too often are, might I be -indulged in pointing out what they <i>should</i> be, very different would be -the Character I should sketch. I would draw him modest in his disposition, -mild in his temper, gentle and insinuating in his address; scarce less a -man of the world than a man of letters. His Classic Knowledge (though far -above mediocrity) should be the least of his acquirements; General -Knowledge should be his forte, and the application of it to general -purposes his aim. He should not only improve those under his care in his -publick lectures, but should endeavour at least to direct them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> in their -private studies; he should encourage them to read, and should teach them -to read with taste.â€</p> - -<p>At this point <i>The Loiterer’s</i> friend interrupted and insisted that no man -was ever born to be a tutor if tutors must possess all the attributes -contained in that description. Upon this <i>The Loiterer</i> said that he knew -only one man in the entire university who came up to the standard, and -that man was his own tutor.</p> - -<p>Gibbon made a scornful allusion to the salary of tutors. On this subject -Dr Newton penned a multitude of indignant sheets because a certain -Undergraduate, named Joseph Somaster, demanded permission to leave Hart -Hall and transfer himself to Balliol for the reason that he had an offer -of obtaining a tutor there who required no fees. With regard therefore to -tutors’ fees, “it may be observed,†wrote the reverend Doctor, “that the -University doth allow Tutors to Receive a consideration for their care of -the Youth entrusted to them; that, as this is very Reasonable in itself, -so hath it ever been the Practice of Tutors to Receive a Consideration for -such their care; that the consideration they have received, not being -limited by any Statute, hath varied, and is, at this day, different in -different Houses of Education within the University; that the tutor’s -demand being known, and not objected to before a Scholar is enter’d under -his care, the same, upon entrance, becomes the consideration that is -agreed to be paid for his care. That the Labourer is worthy of his Hire; -that some Hire is both a better Encouragement to a Tutor, and a greater -obligation upon him to take a due care, than no Hire; that the greatest -Hire, of which any tutor in the University is, at this day thought worthy, -compar’d with the Expence he hath been at, and the Pains he hath taken, -and the Years he hath spent in order to Qualifie himself for this trust, -and also, with the further Labour and Time he must employ in discharging -it faithfully,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> is very small. That unless Learning be the very lowest of -all attainments, and the Education of Youth the very lowest of all -Professions, Thirty Shillings a Quarter, for near three times as many -Lectures, is not so extravagant a demand, as that he who pays it, should -do it with an unwilling hand. Much less that any one, who hath Himself -been a Tutor, and who hath experienc’d a faithful Tutor’s trouble and -anxiety, should think it too much for any of his Fellow-Labourers in the -same Vocation, although their circumstances should be so affluent that -they need not any reward, or their Friendship so particular that they do -not desire it.â€<a name='fna_25' id='fna_25' href='#f_25'><small>[25]</small></a></p> - -<p>In the time of Dr Johnson the college tutors lectured in Hall as well as -in their own rooms, and, in addition, they set weekly themes for -composition—for the non-performance of which the fine was half a crown. -The day for giving in these themes was Saturday. George Whitefield, though -only a poor starveling servitor with scarce a penny to bless himself with, -was twice fined by his tutor because he failed to compose his theme.</p> - -<p>Christopher Wordsworth in his book on the universities in the eighteenth -centuries made it clear that when Dr Johnson was at Pembroke in 1728, -“Undergraduates generally depended entirely upon the Tutor to guide all -their reading. His first tutor Jordon was like a father to his pupils, but -he was intellectually incompetent for his important position. For this -reason Johnson recommended his old schoolfellow Taylor to go to Christ -Church on account of the excellent lectures of Bateman then tutor there.†-In Johnson’s own words in reference to Mr Jordon, “He was a very worthy -man, but a heavy man, and I did not profit much by his instructions. -Indeed, I did not attend him much. The first day after I came to college, -I waited<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> upon him, and then staid away four. On the sixth, Mr Jordon -asked me why I had not attended. I answered, I had been sliding in -Christchurch meadow. And this I said with as much non-chalance as I am now -talking to you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my -tutor.†To this self accusation Boswell replied, “That, Sir, was great -fortitude of mind!†“No, Sir,†snapped Johnson, “stark insensibility.â€<a name='fna_26' id='fna_26' href='#f_26'><small>[26]</small></a></p> - -<p>It is unnecessary to arraign further damning evidence against the Georgian -tutor. He stands convicted on the cases which I have related. Were I -called upon indeed to summon other witnesses for the prosecution, I have -but to turn to any eighteenth-century authority. No one has a word to say -in his favour. By every one he is pronounced to be an idle, -self-indulgent, dishonest, utterly unintellectual creature, conspicuously -lacking in “learning, probity, and sincere religion.â€</p> - -<p>The next division of the genus Don is the public lecturer, in regard to -whom there are, so Amhurst informed us, a number of statutes concerning -the public lecturers in all faculties: appointing, with the utmost -exactness, where they shall read, when they shall read, what they shall -read, how they shall read, and to whom they shall read. “All these (as I -have frequently observed) are almost totally neglected; out of twenty -public lectures, not above three or four being observed at all, and they -not statutably observed: for the auditors, who belong to the same college -with the lecturer in any faculty, do not wait upon him to the school, -where he reads, and back again, as they ought to do; so far from it, that -not one in ten goes to hear these lectures, nor do they (who do attend) -take down what they hear in writing; neither do they (I believe) -diligently read<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> over the same author at home, which the public professor -undertook to explain; nor are persons punished (as the statutes require) -for any of these omissions.†Even if it be admitted that three or four is -an exaggeratedly low estimate of the number of these lectures, and that -the “auditors†are just as lazy as the men who deliver them, yet it is not -to be wondered at that the Undergraduates did not read over the authors, -or write down what they heard. All the lectures were delivered by Dons who -knew next to nothing about their subject, and they were in consequence -very tedious and worthless affairs.</p> - -<p>The lectureships were bestowed “upon such as are utterly and notoriously -ignorant of them, and never made them their study in their lives. They are -given away, as pensions and sinecures, to any body that can make a good -interest for them, without any respect to his abilities or character in -general, or to what faculty in particular he has apply’d his mind. I have -known a profligate <i>debauchee</i> chosen professor of moral philosophy; and a -fellow, who never look’d upon the stars soberly in his life, professor of -astronomy; we have had history professors, who never read anything to -qualify them for it, but Tom Thumb, Jack the Giant-killer, Don Belicanis -of Greece, and such like valuable records; we have had likewise numberless -professors of Greek, Hebrew and Arabick, who scarce understood their -mother tongue; and, not long ago, a famous gamester and stock-jobber was -elected to M—g—t, professor of divinity; so great it seems is the -analogy between dusting of cushions, and shaking of elbows, or between -squand’ring away of estates, and saving of souls!â€</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img13tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img13.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A South View of the Observatory at Oxford.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Terrae Filius was moved to the above denunciations and reminiscences of -lecturers, who, he said, were elected perhaps on the principle that “he -can do no mischief; ergo, he shall be our man,†by the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>receipt of a -letter from a Wadham man who recounted his own personal experiences of -lecturers and their ways. It runs thus:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Wadham College</span>, <i>Jan. 22, 1720</i>.</p> - -<p class="center">“<i>To the Author of Terrae Filius.</i></p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I hope you intend to acquaint the world, amongst other abuses -in what manner the pious designs of those good men, who left us all -our publick lectures, are answered. Yesterday morning at nine a clock -the bell went as usually for a lecture; whether a rhetorical or -logical one, I cannot tell; but I went to the schools, big with hopes -of being instructed in one or the other, and having saunter’d a pretty -while along the quadrangle, impatient of the lecturer’s delay, I ask’d -the major (who is an officer belonging to the schools) whether it was -usual now and then to slip a lecture or so: his answer was that he had -not seen the face of any lecturer in any faculty, except in poetry and -musick, for three years past; that all lectures besides were entirely -neglected.... Every morning in term time there ought to be a divinity -lecture in the divinity school; two gentlemen of our house went one -day to hear what the learned professor had to say upon that subject: -these two were join’d by another master of arts, who without arrogance -might think that they understood divinity enough to be his auditors; -and that consequently his lecture would not have been lost upon them: -but the doctor thought otherwise, who came at last, and was very much -surprized to find that there was an audience. He took two or three -turns about the school, and then said, ‘Magistri vos non estis idonei -auditores; praeterea, juxta legis doctorem Boucher, tres non faciunt -collegium—valete;’ and so went away. Now it is monstrous, that -notwithstanding these publick lectures are so much neglected, we are, -all of us, when we take our degrees, charg’d with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> and punish’d for -non-appearance at the reading of many of them; a formal dispensation -is read by our respective deans, at the time our grace is proposed, -for our non-appearance at these lectures, and it is with difficulty -that some grave ones of the congregation are induced to grant it. -Strange order! that each lecturer should have his fifty, his hundred, -or two hundred pounds a year for doing nothing, and that we (the young -fry) should be obliged to pay money for not hearing such lectures as -were never read, nor ever composed....â€</p></div> - -<p>In the face of personal experience of this kind how is it possible to -believe that to obtain a degree was anything but a question of independent -work or the judicious administration of “pourboiresâ€? To attend at the -right hour for a lecture which was never read, to be fined for -non-attendance, and finally to have great difficulty in persuading the -authorities to sign the necessary dispensation is a Gilbertian absurdity. -No other instance more striking than this letter can be found in all the -eighteenth-century chronicles of the attitude of Dons towards the -Undergraduates in their charge. Once certain of their annual stipend their -duties went by the board; and the Dons, whether lecturers or Heads of -colleges, whether they knew each other personally or not, banded together -to ensure their own safety, and signed to a lie in regard to the -delivering of lectures with the utmost unconcern.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> -<p class="title">THE DON—(<i>continued</i>)</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">The examiners—Perjury and bribery—Method of examining—College -Fellows—Election to Fellowships—Gibbon and the Magdalen Dons—Heads -of colleges—Their domestic and public character—Golgotha and Ben -Numps—St John’s Head pays homage to Christ Church—Drs Marlowe and Randolph.</p></div> - - -<p>After the lecture comes the examination, so the examiner shall be the next -in line. Now the examiners were appointed by the senior Proctor, who -administered to them the following oath: “That they will either examine, -or hear examined, all candidates that fall to their lot, in those arts and -sciences, and in such manner as the statute requires. Likewise that they -will not be prevailed upon by entreaties, or bribes, or hatred or -friendship, or hope or fear, to grant any one a <i>testimonium</i>, who does -not deserve it, or to deny it to any one that does.†The examiners were, -however, in the same parlous condition as the lecturers and tutors.</p> - -<p>The most mild of all the adverse criticisms was that of Henry Fynes -Cliton, who was at the House in 1799. He said that the examiners -discouraged Undergraduates from making a wide choice of authors for their -schools, and that if any one anxious for first-class honours took an -author not included in the abbreviated list as given out by them, they -would find a way to stop him from obtaining the coveted class.</p> - -<p>This entirely bears out the statement of Amhurst, who said that the -examiners were entirely ignorant of the subjects in which they examined, -and that the whole system was a farce and a scandal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>“How well the examiners perform their duty,†he wrote with almost -apathetic resignation, “I leave to God and their own consciences; tho’ my -shallow apprehension cannot reconcile their taking a solemn oath, that -they will not be prevail’d upon by entreaties or bribes, or friendship, -etc., with their actually receiving bribes, and frequently granting -<i>testimoniums</i> to unworthy candidates, out of personal friendship and -bottle acquaintance. It is a notorious truth, that most candidates get -leave of the proctor, by paying his man a crown (which is called his -perquisite) to choose their own examiners, who never fail to be their old -cronies and toping companions. The question therefore is, whether it may -not be strongly presumed from hence, that the candidates expect more -favour from these men, than from strangers; because otherwise it would be -throwing away a crown to no purpose; and if they do meet with a favour -from them, <i>quaere</i> whether the examiner is not prevail’d upon by -intreaties or friendship.â€</p> - -<p>Another method of procedure then very popular was for the examiner to -receive “a piece of gold†or an “handsome entertainment†from each of the -candidates, or else to be made drunk by him the night before the -examination. The candidate took care to provide sufficient drink to keep -his man occupied busily till morning, and then they adjourned, “cheek by -joul,†from their drinking room to the school. “<i>Quaere</i>†demanded Terrae -Filius again, “whether it would not be very ungrateful of the examiner to -refuse any candidate a <i>testimonium</i>, who has treated him so splendidly -over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail’d upon by -bribes?â€</p> - -<p>Vicesimus Knox of St John’s made very much the same statements about the -examiners, and added that during the time when they were closeted with the -candidates in the schools they did nothing but discuss the latest drinking -bout (which took place the night before), or talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> horses, or read -newspapers and novels till the clock struck eleven—when they all -descended, and the <i>testimonium</i> was signed without a twinge of -conscience.</p> - -<p>But college Fellowship was, perhaps, one of the most abused offices in -existence. Once nominated to a Fellowship, however unfit to occupy the -position, a Don was settled for life. He had a fixed income, did no work, -and worried about nothing but to retain his own particular corner chair at -the King’s Head tavern or elsewhere. He stagnated for the rest of his -natural life, and became gross by dint of perpetual drinking. On the sad -subject of college Fellows T. J. Hogg, writing of Shelley at Oxford, told -us that at the end of the eighteenth century,</p> - -<p>“If a few gentlemen were admitted to Fellowships, they were always absent; -they were not persons of literary pretensions, or distinguished by -scholarship; and they had no more share in the government of the college -than the overgrown guardsman....</p> - -<p>“A total neglect of all learning, an unseemly turbulence, the most -monstrous irregularities, open and habitual drunkenness, vice, and -violence, were tolerated or encouraged, with the basest sycophancy, that -the prospect of perpetual licentiousness might fill the colleges with -young men of fortune; whenever the rarely exercised power of coercion was -exerted, it demonstrated the utter incapacity of our unworthy rulers by -coarseness, ignorance, and injustice.â€</p> - -<p>Terrae Filius devoted one chapter, peculiarly conspicuous for its lack of -satirical venom, to the dissection of Fellows. His article was occasioned -by a report in all the papers of the death of Dr Pudsey, one of the senior -Fellows of “Maudlin College (who) died there last week aged near an -hundred years.†“This,†said Amhurst, “gives me an opportunity of -discoursing upon what I have always thought one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> great error in the -constitution of most colleges; which I will do with only this preface, -that I hope no body will think I design, in what I shall say, to reflect -on the deceas’d old gentleman before mention’d. The original design of -endowing colleges was undoubtedly this, to support such persons as could -not bear the charges of a learned education themselves, till they were -able to shift in the world, and become serviceable to their country; for -this reason all scholars and fellows (of most colleges at least) are -obliged to take an oath, that they are not worth so much per annum <i>de -proprio</i>, in some colleges more, and in some less; but in all colleges the -meaning of the oath is the same, that no person shall benefit of the -foundation who can live without it; but this oath, like other oaths, is -commented away, and interpreted so loosely, that, at present it does not -exclude persons of four or five hundred pounds a year.... When any person -is chosen fellow of a college, he immediately becomes a freeholder, and is -settled for life in ease and plenty; provided only that he conforms -himself to the ceremonies and caprices of the place, which very few will -stick at, who delight in such an indolent and recluse state; at first, -indeed, he is obliged to perform some insignificant, superficial -exercises, and to get a few questions and answers in the sciences by rote, -to qualify him for his degrees; but when these are obtain’d, he wastes the -rest of his days in luxury and idleness; he enjoys himself, and is dead to -the world; for a senior fellow of a college lives and moulders away in a -supine and regular course of eating, drinking, sleeping, and cheating the -juniors.... In many colleges the fellowships are so considerable, that no -preferment can tempt some persons to leave them; they prefer this -monastic, and (as they call it) retired life to any employment, in which -they would be obliged to take some pains, and do some good.â€</p> - -<p>Such remarks from the mouth of Terrae Filius are indeed quiet,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> but -however lacking in sparkle, they are filled with the truth. Turn where we -may, on every hand, the Fellows of colleges are written down and left -without one saving quality.</p> - -<p>The state of Magdalen, as related by Gibbon, was no better and no worse -than that of any other college. “The fellows or monks of my time,†-according to him, “were decent, easy men, who supinely enjoyed the gifts -of the founder; their days were filled by a series of uniform employments; -the chapel and the hall, the coffee-house and the common room, till they -retired, weary and well satisfied, to a long slumber. From the toil of -reading, or thinking, or writing, they had absolved their conscience; and -the first shoots of learning and ingenuity withered on the ground, without -yielding any fruits to the owners or the public. As a gentleman commoner, -I was admitted to the society of the fellows, and fondly expected that -some questions of literature would be the amusing and instructive topics -of their discourse. Their conversation stagnated in a round of college -business, Tory politics, personal anecdotes, and private scandal; their -dull and deep potations excused the brisk intemperance of youth; and their -constitutional toasts were not expressive of the most lively loyalty for -the house of Hanover.... The example of the senior fellows could not -inspire the undergraduates with a liberal spirit or studious -emulation.â€<a name='fna_27' id='fna_27' href='#f_27'><small>[27]</small></a></p> - -<p>The common room, with its accompaniments of tobacco and liquor, formed the -scene in which the greater portion of their parts was acted by the -Fellows; for the rest, the taverns and coffee-houses, where the meetings -of jovial societies, of which they were members, were held. By way of -exercise, an occasional horse ride; nothing more. Their other chief hobby -was, in the language of the time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> “wenching.†Amazingly enough, they -still had sufficient energy, after living such a life, to array themselves -in all their glory, and sally forth to pay homage at the feet of the toast -of the day. In their attempts to cut out the Smarts in the affections of -the reigning queen, Merton Wall and Paradise Gardens saw them daily. -<i>Liaisons</i> with their neighbour’s wives, bedmakers, and bedmaker’s -daughters were everyday occurrences; so openly, indeed, were these things -done, that songs were composed in various clubs of the doings of certain -Fellows mentioned by name, and satirical poems were written about them; -but there the matter ended.</p> - -<p>The character of a Head of a college, taken “in a more private view, -amongst their fellows in their respective colleges,†was thus delineated -by Amhurst. “A director or scull of a college is a lordly strutting -creature, who thinks all beneath him created to gratify his ambition and -exalt his glory; he commands their homage by using them very ill; and -thinks the best way to gain their admiration is to pinch their bellies and -call them names, as the most tyrannical princes have always the most loyal -subjects; he is very vicious and immoral himself, and therefore will not -pardon the least trip or miscarriage in another; he is a great profligate, -and consequently a great disciplinarian; he petrifies in fraud and -shamelessness, and is never properly in his element but when he is either -committing wickedness himself, or punishing the commission of it in -others.†So much for his domestic character. In the exercise of his public -functions he was one of a gang who “have as persidiously broken as great a -trust reposed in them by the Government, the nobility, gentry, and -commonality of England; that, under pretence of advancing national -religion and learning, they have introduced national irreligion and -ignorance; and instead of promoting loyalty and peace have encouraged -treason and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> disturbance; that they have debauched the principles of youth -instead of reforming them; that they have been guilty of wicked and -infamous practices of all sorts; ought they not, likewise, to be punish’d -in the most rigorous manner?â€</p> - -<p>Amhurst found this a very sore subject, for, later on, he bore out the -theory of the promotion of ignorance, and said that they did their utmost -to prevent learning. “Whatever portion of commonsense they possess -themselves, they take especial care to keep it from those under their -tuition, having innumerable large volumes by them, written on purpose to -obscure the understanding of their pupils, and to obliterate or confound -all those impressions of right or wrong which they bring with them to the -universities; their several systems of logic, metaphysics, ethics, and -divinity are calculated for this design, being fill’d up with inconsistent -notions, dark cloudy terms, and unintelligible definitions, which tend not -to instruct, but to perplex, to put out the light of reason, not to assist -or strengthen it; and to palliate falsehood, not to discover truth.â€</p> - -<p>As further evidence of the amazing egoism and brutality of “Sculls,†it is -worth while to quote the story of a Head of Balliol who held office in -these times. “A young fellow of Balliol College having, upon some -discontent, cut his throat very dangerously, the master of the college -sent his servitor to the buttery book to sconce (that is, fine) him five -shillings, and, says the doctor, tell him that the next time he cuts his -throat I’ll sconce him ten!â€</p> - -<p>Whenever there was important academical business afoot the Vice-Chancellor -and Sculls met in solemn conclave in Golgotha, the state room in the -Clarendon building. The room was handsomely decorated and wainscotted. The -wainscot was said to have been put up by order of a man of humour who went -up to Oxford for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> degree without “any claim or recommendation.†He -promised, however, in exchange for the degree to become a benefactor of -the university. The Sculls thereupon hurriedly engaged workmen who began -running up the wainscot, and they “clapp’d a degree upon his back.†But as -soon as the degree had been granted, the benefactor disappeared, and the -Sculls were left to pay the workmen with money out of their own -pockets—which, of course, had been previously plundered from the -university.</p> - -<p>It was in this room that all the weighty business of the university was -conducted. In the amusing words of Amhurst, “if any sermon is preach’d, if -any public speech or oration is deliver’d in derogation of the church, or -the university, or in vindication of the Protestant succession, or the -Bishop of Bangor, hither the delinquent is summon’d to answer for his -offence, and receive condign punishment. In short, all matters of -importance are cognisable before this tribunal: I will instance only one, -but that very remarkable. A day or two before the late Queen died, a -letter was brought to the post-office at Oxford, with these words upon the -outside of it, <i>we hear the queen is dead</i>; which, being suspected to -contain something equally mischievous within, was stopt, and carried to -the Vice-Chancellor, who immediately summon’d his brethren to meet him at -Golgotha about a matter of the utmost consequence: when they were -assembled together he produced the letter before them; and having open’d -it, read the contents of it in an audible voice; which were as follow:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right">“‘<span class="smcap">St John’s College</span>, <i>July 30, 1714</i>.</p> - -<p>“‘<span class="smcap">Honoured Mother</span>,—I receaved the Cheshear chease you sent ma by -Roben Joulthead, our waggoner, and itt is a vary gud one, and I thanck -you for itt, mother, with all my hart and soale, and I promis to be a -gud boy, and mind my boock, as yow dezired ma. I am a rising<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> lad, -mother, and have gott prefarment in college allready; for our sextoun -beeing gonn intoo Heryfoordshear to see his frends, he has left mee -his depoty, which is a vary good pleace. I have nothing to complayne -off, onely that John Fulkes the tailor scores me upp a penny strong a -moost everyday; but I’ll put a stopp to it shortly, I worrant ye: I -beleave I shall do vary well, if you wull but send me t’other crowne; -for I have spent all my mony at my fresh treat (as they caul itt) -which is an abominable ecstortion, but I coud not help itt; when I cum -intoo the country, I’le tell you all how it is. So no more att this -present: but my sairvice to our parson, and my love to brother Nick -and sister Kate; and so I rest.—Your ever dutiful and obedient son,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">“‘<span class="smcap">Benjamin Numps</span>.’</span></p></div> - -<p>“When he had done reading, the Sculls look’d very gravely upon one another -for some time, till at length Dr Faustus, late of New college, got up and -spoke to them in the following manner:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“‘<span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,—The words of this letter are so very plain and -intelligible in themselves, that I wish there is no latent and -mysterious meaning in them. How do we know what he means by the -cheese, which he thanks his mother for? or how do we know that he -means nothing else by it, but a cheese? Then, he desires his mother to -send him t’other crown; now what, I conjure you all tell me, can he -mean by that other crown but the elector of Hanover; especially as he -tells us on the outside of his letter that the <i>queen is dead</i>? These -rebels and roundheads are very fly in everything they do; they know we -have a strict eye over them; and therefore if this Benjamin Numps -should be one of them, and have any such ill designs in his head, to -be sure, if he expected to succeed, he would not express himself to be -understood. So that, with all submission to my reverend brethren, I -think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> that we ought to sift this matter thoroughly, for fear of the -worst;’ and sat down.â€</p></div> - -<p>A gentleman referred to as Father William then rose to reply. The grave Dr -Faustus did not overawe him as he overawed the rest. Father William, in -scathingly sarcastic language, told him that he was a fool, a John o’ -dreams, always suspecting mischief where none was meant. “Who but you,†he -said, “would ever have suspected treason in a Cheshire cheese?†The man -Numps, he explained to the reverend Sculls, was simply a poor servitor but -lately entered into his own college, who had not the brains necessary to -think out any plot. Therefore the fellow was sent for. He entered, -trembling in every limb at the sight of all these learned authorities -sitting in solemn conclave, and acknowledged his fault “full of sorrow and -contrition,†and humbly asked their pardon.</p> - -<hr style="width: 25%;" /> - -<p>Such was the characteristic manner in which the Heads ruled the -university, and the above incident is a typical instance of the weighty -business which arose from day to day. They were the counterpart of the -Pharisees, who strained at gnats and swallowed camels. In connection with -the headship of St John’s College there existed a rather curious custom. -The Don elected to the Presidentship led the whole college, arrayed in -fullest academical garb, down to Christ Church, where they did homage. -Dibdin related that when Dr Marlowe succeeded to the President’s Chair of -St John’s College they were received at the “House†by Dr Cyril Jackson, -then Dean of Christ Church. After the performance of what Dibdin calls a -“humbling piece of vassalage†which was conducted with great pomp and -formality, the members of St John’s returned, and were duly regaled with a -sumptuous repast by the newly-elected President who went to the various -common rooms—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> masters by themselves, the bachelors by themselves, and -the scholars and commoners each in their particular banqueting room. There -he drank wine with them, and was loudly toasted. “I remember one forward -freshman,†said Dibdin, “shouting aloud on this memorable occasion as the -new President retreated—</p> - -<p class="poem">“‘Nunc est bibendum; nunc pede libero<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Pulsanda tellus!’</span></p> - -<p>“The stars of midnight twinkled upon our orgies; but this was a day never -to come again. Dr Marlowe sat for thirty-three years in the Presidental -Chair.â€<a name='fna_28' id='fna_28' href='#f_28'><small>[28]</small></a></p> - -<p>Having read accounts of all the pompous, evil-living and unpopular Heads -for whom nobody had a good word, it is refreshing to come across records -of thoroughly-liked men like Dr Marlowe of St John’s and Dr Randolph of -Corpus, of whom R. L. Edgeworth sang the praises. “Dr Randolph,†he said, -“was at that time (1761) president of Corpus Christi College. With great -learning, and many excellent qualities, he had some singularities, which -produced nothing more injurious from his friends than a smile. He had the -habit of muttering upon the most trivial occasions, <i>mors omnibus -communis!</i> One day his horse stumbled upon Maudlin bridge, and the -resigned president let his bridle go, and drawing up the waistband of his -breeches as he sat bolt upright, he exclaimed before a crowded audience, -<i>mors omnibus communis!</i> The same simplicity of character appeared in -various instances, and it was mixed with a mildness of temper, that made -him generally beloved by the young students. The worthy doctor was -indulgent to us all, but to me in particular upon one occasion, where I -fear that I tried his temper more than I ought to have done. The gentlemen -commoners were not obliged to attend chapel on any days but Sunday and -Thursday;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> I had been too frequently absent, and the president was -determined to rebuke me before my companions. ‘Sir,’ said he to me as we -came out of chapel one Sunday, ‘you <i>never</i> attend Thursday prayers!’ ‘I -do <i>sometimes</i>, sir,’ I replied. ‘I did not see you last Thursday. And, -sir,’ cried the president, rising into anger, ‘I will have nobody in my -college’ (ejaculating a certain customary noise, something between a cough -and the sound of a postman’s horn), ‘sir, I will have nobody in my college -that does not attend chapel. I did not see you at chapel last Thursday.’ -‘Mr President,’ said I, with a most profound reverence, ‘it was impossible -that you should see me, for you were not there yourself.’ Instead of being -more exasperated by my answer, the anger of the good old man fell -immediately. He recollected and instantly acknowledged, that he had not -been in chapel on that day. It was the only Thursday on which he had been -absent for three years. Turning to me with great suavity, he invited me to -drink tea that evening with him and his daughter. This indulgent -president’s good humour made more salutary impression on the young men he -governed than has ever been effected by the morose manners of any -unrelenting disciplinarian.â€<a name='fna_29' id='fna_29' href='#f_29'><small>[29]</small></a></p> - -<p>Dr Randolph, Dr Marlowe, and the tutor of <i>The Loiterer</i> are the only -three men whom I have been able to discover whose integrity was beyond -question. Three out of a whole century of Dons explains many things! It -proves the truth of the grave charges of vice, irreligion and perpetual -sloth brought against the Dons of the century, by every writer of the -time. It explains the bad government of colleges, general licentiousness, -and scholastic negligence which were the main characteristics of Georgian -Oxford.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> -<p class="title">THE DON—(<i>continued</i>)</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Proctors—The Black Book—Personal spite and the taking of a -degree—The case of Meadowcourt of Merton—Extract from Black -Book—The taverner and the Proctor—Izaak Walton and the senior -Proctor—Amhurst’s character sketch of a certain Proctor.</p></div> - - -<p>The Proctor and his bull-dogs (entailing sudden scuttlings down side -streets, which, if abortive, lead to the nine o’clock string outside that -gentleman’s door, and the unwilling disbursement of goodly sums—the fine -for being out of college at an unstatutable hour was 40s.!—because -forsooth, a man had the misfortune to cross his path without being arrayed -in statutable garb), loomed darkly on the eighteenth-century skyline. -Wrapped in the safe embrace of trencher and gown it was possible to watch -the great Proctors</p> - -<p class="poem"><span style="margin-left: 8em;">“... march in state</span><br /> -With velvet sleeves and scarlet gown,<br /> -Some with white wigs so hugely grown<br /> -They seem to ape in some degree<br /> -The dome of Radcliffe’s Library.â€</p> - -<p>It was the redoubtable senior Proctor who was the guardian of the Black -Book, the register of the university, in which he recorded the name of any -person who affronted him or the university. The mere inscription of a name -in the Proctor’s book may not seem a very fearful punishment, but it takes -on a darker aspect when it is discovered that no person so recorded might -proceed to his degree till he had given satisfaction to the Proctor who -had put him in. Amhurst explained that the Black Book into which the -Proctors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> put anybody “at whom, whether justly or not, they shall take -offence ... was at first design’d to punish refractory persons and immoral -offenders; but at present it is made use of to vent party spleen and is -fill’d up with whigs, constitutioners, and bangorians. So long as the -university has this rod in her hand, it is no wonder that high-church -triumphs over her most powerful adversaries; nor can we be at all -surpriz’d that Whiggism declines with the constitution club in Oxford, -when we behold people stigmatiz’d in the Black Book, and excluded from -their degrees for soberly rejoicing upon King George’s birthnight, and -drinking his majesty’s health.â€</p> - -<p>The question of making satisfaction to the Proctor who had inscribed a -name in that “dreadful and gloomy volume†was, in many cases at least, a -difficult and lengthy proceeding. The Merton Undergraduate, Meadowcourt, -who, as Steward of the Constitution Club, prevailed upon the Proctor to -join in drinking King George’s health, was prevented for two years from -taking his degree. The “binge†was a quite considerable affair. Party -feeling ran high, and the Charles II. partisans gathered in their hundreds -outside the tavern in which the Constitutioners had foregathered. Amid -booing and hissing, they threw lighted squibs in at the windows. In a -subsequent interview with Mr Holt, the Proctor, Meadowcourt, having -apologised, learned that as far as Holt was concerned he had nothing -further to fear, but that Holt’s brother Proctor, Mr White of Christ -Church, was vastly incensed, and had desired that “the power of taking -cognisance of, and proceeding against all that was done that night, might -be placed in his hands.†To this Holt had agreed. Consequently Meadowcourt -found himself compelled to seek out Mr White. The interview was short and -stormy, the Proctor being in “an ungovernable passion, insomuch that he -often brandished his arm at him.â€</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img14tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img14.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Merton College.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>Out of the doings of that adventurous, amusing and wholly reprehensible -evening the proctor White concocted the following charges which were duly -recorded in the Black Book, in all their pompous length:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="right">“<i>June 28th, 1716.</i></p> - -<p>“Let Mr Carty of university College be kept from his degree, for which -he stands next, for the space of one whole year.</p> - -<p>“1. For prophaning, with mad intemperance, that day, on which he -ought, with sober chearfulness, to have commemorated the restoration -of King Charles the second and the royal family, nay, of monarchy -itself, and the church itself.</p> - -<p>“2. For drinking in company with those persons, who insolently boast -of their loyalty to King George, and endeavour to render almost all -the university, besides themselves, suspected of dissaffection.</p> - -<p>“3. For calling together a great mob of people, as if to see a shew, -and drinking impious execrations, out of the tavern window, against -several worthy persons, who are the best friends to the church and the -king; by this means provoking the beholders to return them the same -abuses; from whence followed a detestable breach of the peace.</p> - -<p>“4. For refusing to go home to his college after nine o’clock at -night, though he was more than once commanded to do it, by the junior -proctor, who came thither to quell the riot.</p> - -<p>“5. For being catch’d at the same place again by the senior proctor, -and pretending, as he was admonish’d by him, to go home; but with a -design to drink again.</p> - -<p>“Let Mr Meadowcourt of Merton College be kept back from the degree -which he stands for next, for the space of two years; nor be admitted -to supplicate for his grace, until he confesses his manifold crimes, -and asks pardon upon his knees.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>“Not only for being an accomplice with Mr Carty in all his faults (or -rather crimes), but also,</p> - -<p>“7. For being not only a companion, but likewise a remarkable abetter -of certain officers, who ran up and down the High Street with their -swords drawn, to the great terror of the townsmen and scholars.</p> - -<p>“8. For breaking out to that degree of impudence (when the proctor -admonish’d him to go home from the tavern at an unseasonable hour) as -to command all the company with a loud voice, to drink King George’s -health.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">“<span class="smcap">Joh. W.</span>, <i>proc-jun.</i>â€</span></p></div> - -<p>In spite of the many entreaties on his behalf made by several -distinguished persons (“amongst whom were a most noble duke and a -marquisâ€) Meadowcourt was unable to obtain the remission of his sentence, -and was compelled to wait the full two years before he could proceed to -his degree. At the end of that time both the proctors concerned had -retired, and the Merton man, upon applying to the proctor then in office, -was informed that nothing could be done until both Holt and White had been -consulted. The unfortunate man went from one to the other for weeks. They -“bandied it about, sending Mr Meadowcourt upon sleeveless errands,†till, -at last, having jumbled their learned noddles together, they sent him a -paper containing the following articles, which they insisted should be -read by Mr Meadowcourt publicly in the Convocation House, before he might -proceed to his degree.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“1. I do acknowledge all the crimes laid to my charge in the Black -Book, and that I deserved the punishment imposed on me.</p> - -<p>“2. I do acknowledge that the story of my being punish’d on account of -affection to King George, and his illustrious house, is unjust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> and -injurious, not only to the reputation of the proctor, but of the whole -university.</p> - -<p>“3. I do profess sincerely, that I do not believe that I was punish’d -on that account.</p> - -<p>“4. I am very thankful for the clemency of the university, in -remitting the ignominious part of the punishment, viz., begging pardon -on my knees.</p> - -<p>“5. I beg pardon of Almighty God, of the proctor, and all the masters, -for the offences which I have committed respectively against them; and -I promise that I will, by my future behaviour, make the best amends I -can, for having offended by the worst of examples.â€</p></div> - -<p>Having fought the almighty proctors thus far Meadowcourt was not, however, -the man to give in to such an absurdly overwhelming piece of indignity as -that proposed. He refused to read the paper, resolving rather to go -without his degree. He was advised, however, to plead the Act of Grace, -which he did after many further checks and delays. He emerged finally from -the unequal conflict with victory and a degree. This case I think amply -justifies Amhurst’s assertion that the Black Book was used as a weapon -with which the proctors paid off personal insults and old scores, and the -injustice and abuse of the great power which they knew so cunningly how to -wield is only too apparent.</p> - -<p>The proctors, naturally enough, were vastly unpopular men and, supposedly, -realising this, did not go one iota out of their way to decrease the -general dislike attaching to them, but rather consoled themselves by -piling on the pains and penalties at every opportunity. The gownsmen were -not the only people who had a rooted objection to them on principle. Even -the townees and tradesmen regarded them with an unfriendly eye, and gave -them no assistance in the detection<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> of Undergraduate delinquents. In -illustration of the light in which they were held by the townspeople -Amhurst related an amusing story.</p> - -<p>“A man who liv’d just by a pound in Oxford and kept an ale house put upon -his sign these words ‘<i>Ale sold here by the Pound</i>,’ which seduced a great -many young students to go thither out of curiosity to buy liquor, as they -thought, by weight; hearing of which, the vice-chancellor sent for the -landlord to punish him according to statute, which prohibits all ale house -keepers to receive scholars into their houses; but the fellow, being -apprehensive what he was sent for, as soon as he came into the -vice-chancellor’s lodgings, fell a spitting and a spawling about the room; -upon which the vice-chancellor ask’d him in an angry tone, what he meant -by that?</p> - -<p>“‘Sir,’ says the fellow, ‘I am come to clear myself.’</p> - -<p>“‘Clear yourself, sirrah!’ says the vice-chancellor; ‘but I expect that -you should clear yourself in another manner; they say you sell ale by the -pound.’</p> - -<p>“‘No, indeed, Mr Vice-chancellor,’ replies the fellow, ‘I don’t.’</p> - -<p>“‘Don’t you,’ says the Vice-chancellor again, ‘how do you then?’</p> - -<p>“‘Very well,’ replies he, ‘I humbly thank you, Mr Vice-chancellor; pray -how do you, sir?’</p> - -<p>“‘Get you gone,’ says the vice-chancellor, ‘for a rascal’; and turned him -downstairs.</p> - -<p>“Away went the fellow and meeting with one of the proctors, told him that -the vice-chancellor desired to speak with him immediately; the proctor in -great haste went to know the vice-chancellor’s commands, and the fellow -with him, who told the vice-chancellor, when they came before him, that -here he was.</p> - -<p>“‘Here he is!’ says the vice-chancellor, ‘who is here?’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>“‘Sir,’ says the impudent alehouse-keeper, ‘you bad me go for a Rascal; -and lo! here I have brought you one.’â€</p> - -<p>The proctors had the appointment of the examiners, and once now and again -they paid a surprise visit in their official capacity to the schools, when -the examinations (such as they were) were in progress. This was, however, -a “rare and uncommon occurrence.†When prowling the streets in search of -whom they might devour their method was to search the coffee-houses and -smart establishments and give impositions to the “Bucks in boots†upon -whom they pounced. They left the ale-houses alone, or, in Tom Warton’s -words:—</p> - -<p class="poem">“Nor Proctor thrice with vocal Heel alarms<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Our Joys secure, nor deigns the lowly Roof</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Of Pot-house snug to visit: wiser he</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The splendid Tavern haunts, or Coffee-house....â€</span></p> - -<p>Izaak Walton described the senior proctor in 1616 as one who “did not use -his power of punishing to an extremity; but did usually take their names, -and a promise to appear before him unsent for next morning: and when they -did convinced them with such obligingness, and reason added to it, that -they parted from him with such resolutions as the man after God’s own -heart was possessed with, when he said to God, There is mercy with thee, -and therefore thou shalt be feared (Psal. cxxx.). And by this, and a like -behaviour to all men, he was so happy as to lay down this dangerous -employment, as but few, if any have done, even without an enemy.â€</p> - -<p>The proctorship was therefore a difficult post to fill even a full century -before Amhurst was born to set down in black and white the iniquities of -his own time. Izaak Walton’s proctor was the exception;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> Amhurst’s seems -to have been the rule, and his character is given by Terrae Filius as -follows:—</p> - -<p>“... of Christ Church, a tool that was form’d by nature for vile and -villainous purposes, being advanced to the proctorship, publickly -declar’d, that no constitutioner should take a degree whilst he was in -power. This corrupt and infamous magistrate had formerly been under cure -for lunacy, and was now very far relaps’d into the same distemper. He was -naturally the most proud and insolent tyrant to his betters, who were -below him in the university; but to those above him the most mean and -creeping slave. He was peevish, passionate, and revengeful; loose and -profligate in his morals, though seemingly rigid and severe. In publick, a -serious and solemn hypocrite; in private, a ridiculous and lewd buffoon. -An impudent pretender to sanctity and conscience, which he always us’d as -a cloak for the most unjust and criminal actions. In short, he was so -worthless and despicable a fellow, and had so scandalously overacted his -part in his extravagant zeal against the constitution club, that at the -expiration of his proctorship, when he appear’d as candidate for the -professorship of history, there were not above ten persons, besides the -members of his own college who voted for him.â€</p> - -<p>The anonymity of the blank space in front of the man’s college is not -sufficient to conceal the fact that this character sketch, a bitter and -pointed attack, was most probably meant for the Mr White who distinguished -himself in the Meadowcourt case. As, however, from many instances, he -appears to have been no better and no worse than the generality of -proctors during the century, there is no reason why Amhurst’s -denunciations should not be credited as descriptive of most of the others -of his kind.</p> - -<p>Modern Oxford has reason to congratulate herself that the reins<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> of -government are no longer in such hands. There exist to-day none of the -abuses and vices which were so striking a feature of the eighteenth -century. They have all been swept away. Oxford has purged herself of them, -and in their place are to be found honesty, uprightness, and all the -cardinal virtues. The modern Don has nothing in common with his Georgian -predecessor. He relegates self to a discreet background, and devotes his -entire energies to the interests of those over whom he has authority; and -his pupils, on going down, harbour no feelings of contempt and -ill-feeling, but look on him instead as a man whose friendship is an -honour which must be treasured to the end.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> -<p class="title">CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">Charles James Fox—Earl of Malmesbury—William Eden—Cards and -claret—Midnight oil—Oxford friendships remembered afterwards—Edward -Gibbon—Delicate bookworm—Antagonism towards Oxford—Becomes a Roman -Catholic—Subsequent apostasy—John Wesley—Resists taking -orders—Germs of ambition—America the golden opportunity—Oxford responsible for Methodism.</p></div> - - -<p>Academic Oxford of the eighteenth century has been thrown on to the screen -in different lights and from different sides. The Don, for the most part -inert in his elbow chair, puffing at his glazed pipe, with many bottles -and tankards at his elbow in the common room or the coffee-house; turning -up his nose at the impudence of any man who wanted to work; too lazy, and -in many cases too ignorant, to put skilful questions in the examinations; -abusing his trust as an examiner by receiving bribes, in the same manner -that he set the Undergraduates a lead in vice of all kinds outside the -schools; earnest and eager in political strife of the Vicar of Bray type; -keen on nothing but his own personal aggrandisement, either socially or -financially—in all these lights he has passed through the picture. We -have seen also the Undergraduate in all his class divisions—the humble -servitor receiving sixpence a week from each of his gentleman patrons, -doing the dirty work and odd jobs, keeping soul and body together on the -scraps that fell from the rich men’s table, writing out their impositions -and scraping an education in the meanwhile, God knows how; the gentleman -commoner and the Smart, swaggering it abroad in the glory of their purple -and fine linen, sneering at the dull regulars, cutting lectures and -chapels, doing no work, incurring enormous expenses “upon tick,â€<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -following the example set by the Dons in drunkenness and wenching. We have -seen them amusing themselves, free from any kind of restriction, in -taverns, town and gown rows, on the river, in the cock-pit and the prize -ring, and dallying with the beauties under Merton Wall.</p> - -<p>Looking at all these things and to the general loose living which was the -keynote of the eighteenth century, we are apt to feel with Malmesbury that -it is a matter of surprise how so many of the Undergraduates made their -way so well and so creditably in the world. It has already been remarked -that the worth of Oxford lies not in the quality of the degree taken, but -in the education which environment and the association with better men -undoubtedly gives. The mere cramming of book knowledge would be useless -were it not accompanied by the far more important expansion of mind, the -broadening of outlook, and the formation of character brought about by the -social life of the university. This is palpably so in the case of the -eighteenth-century Undergraduate, since work was practically non-existent, -and a degree merely a matter of so much ready money. He could not do -anything else but take on the colour of the surroundings of vice and -intemperance which then reigned supreme.</p> - -<p>How is it then that any man emerged from the Oxford of this period and -succeeded in inscribing his name on the roll of fame? The reason is that -Oxford was a mirror in which was reflected London life. The metropolis was -simply Oxford on a larger scale, so that the Undergraduates were learning -at the university to do the things which would be expected of them in -after life; and the men who distinguished themselves at college were bound -to achieve renown later. The fame of such men as Charles Fox, the -pre-eminent statesman; Edward Gibbon, the historian; Malmesbury, the -diplomat; John Wesley, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> founder of Methodism; Collins, the poet; and -the immortal Dr Johnson, is written down in the pages of history.</p> - -<p>Charles James Fox, one of the greatest statesmen England has ever seen, -came up from Eton to Hertford College<a name='fna_30' id='fna_30' href='#f_30'><small>[30]</small></a> in 1764, where he was the -leading spirit in a little coterie which included James Harris, Earl of -Malmesbury, and William Eden, Baron Auckland. By his father he had been -initiated, while still at Eton, into the vice of gaming, by which he was -very deeply bitten. A still more curious fact is that although Fox as a -young man had no inclinations towards loose living he was taken over to -Paris and laughed into it by his otherwise doting parent. His innate force -of character, however, enabled him to resist what might have wrecked the -life of another man less strong, and although outwardly he was at Oxford -an idle gamester, yet in secret, in the small hours of the morning, he -worked exceedingly hard. Malmesbury has described this circle of friends -as a non-working, pleasure-loving body. Fox, as the leader of them, fell, -of course, under this category; but the results of his hours of private -grinding were quite extraordinary. He read “Aristotle’s ‘Ethics and -Politics,’ with an ease uncommon in those who have principally cultivated -the study of the Greek writers. His favourite authors were Longinus and -Homer, with the latter of whom he was particularly conversant; he could -discuss the works of the Ionian bard, not only as a man of exquisite -taste, and as a philosophical critic, which might be expected from a mind -like his, but also as a grammarian. He was indeed capable of conversing -with Longinus, on the beauty, sublimity, and pathos of Homer; with -Aristotle on his delineations of man, with a pedagogue on dactyls, -spondees, anapaests, and all the arcana of language. History, ethics, -politics, were, however, his particular studies.â€</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>Yet with all these accomplishments, which, in a period none too famous for -its learning, were all the more amazing, this extraordinary man was swayed -by his passion for gaming, and never behindhand in expeditions of debauch -with his companions. Cards were the favourite pastime then in vogue, and -it was round the baize-covered table that Fox cemented his friendship with -Malmesbury and Eden. These latter, both, subsequently, men of -international fame, also surrendered themselves completely to the -slackness of the time, and did their utmost to imitate with thoroughness -the London fops of whom they had some slight experiences before coming up. -While still gownsmen this triumvirate gave signs of their future -greatness. Their card parties were a centre of attraction, not because of -the high stakes for which they played, but for the wit and brilliance of -their conversation. Fox’s eloquence was even then remarkable, and he had -“no cotemporary so erudite in knowledge, none so elegant in mirth.†The -enormous possibilities of this Undergraduate were fully appreciated by the -college authorities. He was allowed to make trips to London, where, in the -company of his father, he went to the Houses of Parliament, and was a keen -listener at many of the great debates. When a proposal was on foot for Fox -to cross to Paris and make a stay of some months there, the Head of -Hertford granted him leave immediately with the unusual remark that such -application as his necessitated “some intermission; and you are the only -person with whom I have ever had connexion to whom I could say this.â€</p> - -<p>With characteristic thoroughness Fox outdid the most complete Smart in the -elegance of his dress. He made a special journey from Paris to Lyons for -the purchasing of waistcoats, and on his return to England was seen in the -Mall “in a suit of Paris-cut velvet, most fancifully embroidered, and -bedecked with a large bouquet; a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> headdress cemented into every variety of -shape; a little silk hat, curiously ornamented; and a pair of French shoes -with red heels; for the latter article of which he considered it of no -mean consequence that he was indebted to his own exclusive importation!â€</p> - -<p>He had a great fondness for literature and poetry and, following the -customs of the times, he used occasionally to dash off an indiscreet -sonnet, or a more sound criticism of the current publications. Italian, he -declared, contained as a language more good poetry in it than any with -which he was conversant. The essential quality in any subject was that it -should be “entertaining.†Without this, Fox refused to consider it. The -exact meaning which he read into the word is, however, somewhat difficult -to gather, for, writing to his friend Macarthey, he stated that he was -fond of mathematics and would concentrate upon it because it promised to -be entertaining.</p> - -<p>Oxford remained dear to Fox and the friendships he formed over the -card-table, and the various “rags†in which he took part were never -forgotten by him. When the triumvirate went down, their ways at first lay -separate. Eden’s time was occupied first in getting called to the Bar, and -then, through the patronage of the Duke of Marlborough, to Parliament as -member for Woodstock. Malmesbury, an incipient diplomatist while still at -Winchester, left England and joined the British Embassy at Madrid. Fox -left Oxford before the age of twenty-one, and was immediately returned to -Parliament for Midhurst. For some twenty years the tide of life kept the -three apart, each striving in his own quarter. Then in 1782 Fox, who had -climbed higher up the ladder of fame than either of the other two, was -reminded of the old friendships of his Undergraduate days. Malmesbury, -then Sir James Harris, Knight of the Bath, was invalided home from the -Embassy at St Petersburg, and was instantly appointed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> by Fox to be -Minister at the Hague. The year after this, Eden, whose political career -under the banner of Lord North was a distinguished one, came again into -touch with Fox, and exerted himself to bring about a coalition between his -own chief and his old Oxford friend. It is practically certain that the -touch of sentiment roused by the remembrance of the old days, when Eden -and he played cards and drank claret beneath the spires of Oxford, was the -only reason why the coalition was brought about by Eden, for Fox -afterwards publicly avowed in the House of Commons, when the rupture -between North and himself was final, that “the greatest folly of his life -was in having supported Lord North.â€</p> - -<hr style="width: 25%;" /> - -<p>“To the University of Oxford,†wrote Gibbon in after years, “I acknowledge -no obligation; and she will as cheerfully renounce me for a son as I am -willing to disclaim her for a mother. I spent fourteen months at Magdalen -College; they proved the fourteen months the most idle and unprofitable of -my whole life.â€</p> - -<p>A boy of sixteen, thin and delicate, who from his earliest infancy had -fallen from one illness into another, possessed of an abnormal brain, and -for these two reasons shunning, and shunned by, his school-fellows both in -playground and classroom, and therefore compelled joyfully to fall back -upon books, with which he ate, drank, and slept—conceive such a boy, and -one sees Gibbon at Magdalen. Add to this the facts concerning the debauch, -the lack of “bookish fellows,†the gross and inert Dons, all of which -characterised the times, and it is easy to appreciate the reasons why a -man like Gibbon, a high-strung, dreamy creature to whom any crowd of human -beings inspired positive fear, and whose interests were entirely removed -from wenching, drinking, and gaming, received no benefit from Oxford. He -went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> up intent on nothing but the pursuit of knowledge. In the course of -his dealings with his various tutors—which have already been set forth in -a previous chapter—he found that knowledge was to be obtained neither in -the lecture rooms nor the common rooms. To these latter, being a gentleman -commoner, he received invitations and went high in the expectation of -learned conversations and brilliant dialogue. He found instead no subjects -under discussion save horses, drink, and political preferment. This -beardless boy, practically self-educated and big with ideas upon the -important subjects of life, turned with disgust from the society of the -“port bibbing†and stagnant Fellows. With no definite course of studies to -occupy his attentions, and unchecked by any authority, the unaccustomed -feeling of liberty swept him into the infringement of rules and statutes. -To his tutor he gave casual excuses for non-attendance at lectures, and -disappeared from Oxford for days at a time. The unscholarly condition of -the university, and his own physical inability to join in any athletic -pursuits, united in preventing Oxford from making any impression upon him. -Her history, her architecture, her traditions, seem to have held no -interest for him, and he was more interested in making expeditions to -London and places in the surrounding country than in remaining in the -university and studying Undergraduate life. Even the beauty of Oxford’s -old walls, tree-bordered lawns and walks, and winding river, made no -appeal to him. He was in sympathy with no single thing. It was a mistake -on his parents’ part ever to have sent him up. A man of Gibbon’s peculiar -temperament was entirely out of place in any university; more particularly -Oxford, in the state in which she then was.</p> - -<p>And yet in spite of the incompatibility between Gibbon and Oxford, his -university career was marked by an all-important incident in the -development of the great historian. By education and training<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> he was a -Protestant, but, as was his habit with every subject to which he turned -his attention, he did not merely read books and swallow their contents as -indisputable facts. Everything he read was deeply pondered, made to pass -under his own criticism, and then compared with other authors on the -opposite side of the case. Consequently the subject of his own creed -underwent deep thought, and after reading Middleton’s “Free Enquiry into -the Miraculous Powers which are Supposed to have Subsisted in the -Christian Church,†Gibbon’s religious beliefs were shaken. He decided that -Protestantism was inconsistent; he was dissatisfied with it. Filled with -the restlessness engendered by uncertainty, Gibbon read many works, -including Bossuet’s “Variations of Protestantism†and “Exposition of -Catholic Doctrine,†and the writings of the Jesuit priest, Father Parsons. -“These works,†he said, “achieved my conversion‗the arguments in favour -of Roman Catholicism put forward by the Jesuit priest being the real -turning point in the scale.</p> - -<p>Having arrived at the conclusion that the Protestant religion paled into -insignificance before the Roman Catholic one, the Magdalen man felt that -he would know no happiness until he himself should join the ranks of the -“Papists.†For once his thoroughness deserted him. He did not consider the -question—and the question of a man’s entirely changing his religious -beliefs is a very vital one—with his usual exhaustiveness. Like a baby -with a new toy, Gibbon, the great and wonderful man of brain, world famous -and immortal, made a complete fool of himself. He rushed off to London -without more ado, and there, under the influence of a “momentary glow of -enthusiasm,†“privately abjured the heresies†of his childhood before a -certain Father Baker, also a Jesuit, and became a Roman Catholic. For the -moment his belief was red hot, and he wrote a burningly defiant letter to -his father<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> announcing his change of creed. The elder Gibbon at once -provided an excuse for his being sent down (a circumstance which very -probably would have come about on the Magdalen Dons’ own initiative -without any excuse being offered to them), and packed him off to the care -of the Calvanistic minister at Lausanne, M. Pavilliard. The scattering of -the hastily-swallowed, undigested arguments which had brought about -Gibbon’s precipitate action, was a matter of a few months to M. -Pavilliard, and in less than two years he was once more a fully convinced -Protestant. The ex-Magdalen man’s <i>amour propre</i> is fully demonstrated by -the unblushing assertion that although the Calvinist minister had “a -handsome share in his re-conversion,†yet it was principally brought about -“by his own solitary reflections.†Doubtless when he wrote those -statements he fully realised the extent and powers of his own brain, and -refused to admit that any ordinarily clever man could have, or ever did -have, any influence in swaying him from one point of view to another. One -is fully justified in assuming that had he not gone to a Calvinist -minister, but, instead, continued under the roof of a Jesuit priest, none -of the “philosophical arguments,†to which he refers so glibly, would have -availed him, and Edward Gibbon, historian, would have remained a Roman -Catholic to the end of his days.</p> - -<hr style="width: 25%;" /> - -<p>“Lord, let me not live to be useless!†was the constant prayer of John -Wesley, and it was the keynote of his character. The founder of the -Methodists, famous throughout the civilised world, and a man whose -personal magnetism and great brain were bound to bring him to the fore in -whatever profession he might have chosen, was actuated by a consuming -dread of being considered useless. A desire to achieve great things was -fostered during his Undergraduate <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>days at Christ Church. He went there -with a sound knowledge of Hebrew, and began to achieve some note for his -skill in logic. This was the beginning of the growth of ambition, and the -fact that he was “noticed for his attainments†brought him great pleasure, -for at all times he bubbled over with humour and good spirits in full -realisation of his college notoriety. In consequence of this his -reluctance at taking orders, when proposed by his family, was marked. He -argued the question with himself fully while pacing his rooms at night, -and he wrote to his father and explained his reluctance. It is conceivable -that the life as led by gentleman commoners, with its wine parties, wild -escapades, and general moral carelessness may have been the reason of -Wesley’s hesitation. For this clever, amusing lad was popular in his -college, and invited to take part in all the jollifications. Be that as it -may, the question of devoting his life to religion was a difficult one. -Wesley’s self-examination, assisted by his father’s scorn of becoming a -“callow clergyman,†was doubtless attended by silent questionings as to -what was his speciality. The atmosphere and traditions of Oxford had laid -hold of him. The names of great men, sons of <i>Alma mater</i>, filled him with -the desire to emulate them, to excel them even. Their names were spoken in -awe and admiration. Why should not his be also? He was brilliantly clever, -of a clever family, and already had tasted the joys of fame in however -humble a manner. Why should he have to follow his father’s lead and enter -the Church? Could he not do better for himself outside? Undoubtedly, for -there was more scope, less subjection to rules and orders, more individual -power. But, on the other hand, these speculations and desires to break -away were held in check by filial respect and love. His father and mother -were keenly desirous of his embracing a clerical life, and his mother -especially was of opinion that the sooner he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> entered into deacon’s orders -the better, as it would be an additional inducement to “greater -application in the study of practical divinity.â€</p> - -<p> </p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img15tmb.jpg" alt="" /><br /> -<a href="images/img15.jpg"><small>Larger Image</small></a></div> -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Staircase, Christ Church.</span></p> -<p> </p> - -<p>Wesley, therefore, looked facts in the face and concentrated his whole -mind upon the study of theology. Since he could not be Prime Minister, he -would be a great religious man. He began by disagreeing with “The -Imitation of Christ,†and held views on the question of humility which -lead one to believe that by this time the seeds of his ambition had grown -to trees. Jeremy Taylor’s tenet, that we ought, “in some sense or other, -to think ourselves the worst in every company where we come,†was flatly -contradicted by Wesley, who, although admitting absolute humility to God, -reserved the right to consider himself a better man than many another; for -when he was elected a Fellow of Lincoln, after he had been ordained, he -practically showed the door to all those of his visitors whom he thought -would do him no good, by reason of their not loving or fearing God. Then -an incident happened which had a lasting effect upon Wesley; which changed -his whole life. He travelled over to see what was called “a serious man.†-Who this man was is unknown, but he was a student of psychology and a man -of keen intuition. He summed up John Wesley, and gave forth the remark -which had so great an influence upon him. “Sir,†he said, “you wish to -serve God and go to Heaven. Remember, you cannot serve Him alone; you -must, therefore, <i>find</i> companions or <i>make</i> them: the Bible knows nothing -of solitary religion.â€</p> - -<p>Wesley never forgot these words. They were the turning-point in his -career. His vast brain and desire to become the greatest of God’s servants -would not allow him to be merely a curate in the Established Church, thus -to serve God humbly. Even the chance of his eventually emerging as -Archbishop was not sufficiently big. Neither<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> was the Roman Church large -enough, though from his characteristics it is conceivable that he was in -sympathy with the love of power which, in olden times, is said to have -marked out the Jesuits. The words of this “serious man†gave him furiously -to think. He would make companions, followers, disciples. He, himself, -would become greater than any of the men discussed by his fellow -Undergraduates by taking over the leadership of a band of religious and -ascetic men, who should occupy themselves solely in carrying out the -commands of God.</p> - -<p>Already his piety and zeal were much discussed in Oxford, for he led the -way to George Whitefield in attending the Sacrament daily and doing -charitable works. His younger brother, Charles, had formed the nucleus of -a religious order by meeting weekly with two or three serious-minded -friends and discussing religion. When John Wesley returned to Lincoln -after an absence of some two years, during which he had had time to think -out matters while filling a country curacy, these lads put themselves -under his leadership. It was the first taste of power and individual -authority. He ruled the little band sternly, put their practices into -order and method, and secured an “accession of members.†He submitted -himself to rigorous fasts, and cultivated an eccentric appearance by -letting his hair grow. Even his brother, Samuel, himself really religious, -perceived that he “excited injurious prejudices against himself, by -affecting singularity in things which were of no importance.†His mother -suggested cutting his hair off, but the money could not be spared from -Wesley’s charities. His brother put forward that it should be merely -reduced in length. This Wesley agreed to, and it is recorded that “this -was the only instance in which he condescended, in any degree, to the -opinions of others.â€</p> - -<p>The culminating instance of his egoism lies in his absolute refusal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> in -spite of his father’s earnest entreaty, to take on his <i>cure</i> at the -latter’s death. He considered the proposal “not so much with reference to -his utility, as to his own well-being in spiritual things.†The question, -as it appeared to him, was not whether he could do more good to others -there or at Oxford, but whether he could do more good to himself, seeing -that wherever he could be most holy himself, there he could most promote -holiness. He decided that he could improve himself more at Oxford than at -any other place, and at Oxford, therefore, he determined to remain. His -father wrote to him, “if you are not indifferent whether the labours of an -aged father, for above forty years in God’s vineyard, be lost, and the -fences of it trodden down and destroyed; if you consider that Mr M. must -in all probability succeed me if you do not, and that in prospect of that -mighty Nimrod’s coming hither shocks my soul, and is in a fair way of -bringing down my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave; if you have any care -for our family, which must be dismally shattered as soon as I am dropt; if -you reflect on the dear love and longing which this poor people has for -you, whereby you will be enabled to do God the more service, and the -plenteousness of the harvest, consisting of near two thousand souls, -whereas you have not many more souls in the university—you may, perhaps, -alter your mind and bend your will to His, who has promised if in all our -ways we acknowledge Him, He will direct our paths.â€</p> - -<p>In the face of this stirring appeal from an aged father what did Wesley -reply? He refused absolutely to entertain the matter. His -self-centredness, the while he directed the religious beliefs and -operations of the small body of disciples at Oxford, made him forget all -considerations of filial duty and love and of God’s commands to obedience. -His parents had been the reason of his entering the Church. He would make -no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> further sacrifice for them now that he saw his way clear. His father, -mother, the thousands of poor people—nobody and nothing mattered except -that he should make himself more holy! The petty duties, worries, and -cares, the continual small demands of trifling points entailed by such a -curacy were too small for this striving, all-conquering spirit. What -mattered it that he should send his father’s grey hairs down in sorrow to -the grave?</p> - -<p>All this while, he was most certainly turning over the saying of the -“serious man‗to <i>make</i> followers. On his father’s death it was proposed -that he should go to America. Here was his great chance. Oxford had taught -him that to expect to make English people, in their then blind and vicious -state, see the truth of the gospel of Christ, was futile and childish. He -was a prophet in his own country. But America, with all its -unsophisticated, raw children, its ripeness for a strong man to come with -the gift of oratory and sweep the country from end to end—there was his -chance! And afterwards, on the crest of his fame and success, then would -he convert England. His glory would have preceded him, and he would return -as one already great, to whom they would lend a more willing ear. But with -the astuteness of a really clever man, he peremptorily refused the offer -to send him out there. As a natural result the proposers of the scheme -argued. By degrees he allowed his willingness to be seen, though he -piously pointed out that as he was his mother’s support, the staff of her -age, he could not go without her consent. This she immediately gave, as he -well knew she would. Accordingly, filled with exultation, buoyed up by a -feeling of certainty as to his ultimate success, John Wesley left Oxford -and England for the new country on which he intended to stamp his -personality, and by whose conquest he was determined to hand down his name -to posterity in the profession to which he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> reconciled himself at the -age of some nineteen years while still an Undergraduate of Christ Church.</p> - -<p>Had Wesley not gone up to Oxford, his name might never have been added to -the list of England’s famous men. It was Oxford which first showed him the -narrowness of a small curacy, Oxford which set him contemplating -greatness, Oxford which actually started him in command of disciples. -Therefore it is to Oxford that must be attributed the foundation, growth, -and fame of Methodism, the means by which John Wesley attained his ends, -power, and celebrity.</p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> -<p class="title">CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN—(<i>continued</i>)</p> - -<div class="note"><p class="center">William Collins—Joins the Smarts—Forgets how to work—Oxford kills -his will-power—Loses his reason—Samuel Johnson at Pembroke—A lonely -freshman—Translates Pope’s <i>Messiah</i>—Suffers horribly from -poverty—Dr Adam, his tutor—Readiness and physical pluck—Love of -showing off—His love of Pembroke.</p></div> - - -<p>William Collins has been claimed as the greatest lyric poet of the -eighteenth century. But, as is so often the case with famous men, his -genius during his life time received no recognition. It was only when the -world learned of his death, after he has been removed from a madhouse, -that his few works began to come in for the notice which they deserved. -Perhaps one of the reasons that life brought him no triumphant successes -was the fact that he knew not how to work; and the blame of this -undoubtedly falls upon Oxford. Whilst at school Collins worked steadfastly -both in the matter of examinations and independent poems. It was at -Winchester that he wrote his <i>Persian Eclogues</i>, and in proof of his -capacity for study he headed the list for nomination to an Oxford college, -which included Warton and Whitehead. Oxford caused him to dwindle into a -mere dilettante, a Smart, although he was accused falsely of bringing with -him from school “a sovereign contempt for all academic studies and -discipline.†The beginning of his Undergraduate life was marked by his -strutting about in fine clothes with a feather in his cap, and running up -heavy bills at the booksellers and tailors. The steady reading which he -must have got through to enable him to head the school list was now -laughed at. No one else did any work. Why should he? The Dons at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> Magdelen -did not enforce the college exercises, and those which Collins -condescended to put in showed signs of great genius and great indolence. -The atmosphere of slacking, and card and wine parties which prevailed in -the university seized hold of Collins, and he indulged himself to the -full.</p> - -<p>From time to time the poetry that was in him overflowed in an ode or two, -but he was delighted to be interrupted by some genial friend in the middle -of his work, and there the poem would be left. He frequented parties -daily, entering thoroughly into the spirit of flippancy which -characterised all his smart friends. He loved to be the centre of -attraction, to talk and laugh and jest with a circle of admirers. Those -who did not think as he did were dubbed “damned dull fellows.†The -complete liberty enjoyed by him as a gownsman killed the habit of work so -forcibly inculcated at his school. No sooner did he sit down in his rooms -to read than the thought of a call that he must pay brought him to his -feet again. His entire freedom was his ruin. Had he been compelled to work -during certain hours every day, it is certain that Collins would have been -less of a butterfly, and probable that he would not have lost his reason. -As it was, the lax authority bred in him a desire to partake of the -dissipation and gaiety of London, and caused him to relegate work and -poetry to a secondary and quite unimportant consideration. He became -content merely to draw up the outline of vast schemes for future work. -That which he did complete was short and unsatisfying. He began other -things and never completed them. In momentary bursts of enthusiasm he -would dash off the commencement of some perfect lyric with inspiration and -genius. But his powers of concentration had been sapped. He had not the -strength to go on working. The call to a tea-party, any outside matter of -no importance, was sufficient to make him throw his work into the fire and -rush off to enjoy himself. He even went so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> far as to receive money on the -<i>scenario</i> of a work on condition of promising the completion by a certain -date. For some days he was steadied. His usual haunts saw him not. Behind -sported oak he sat and toiled, striving to conquer the distracting -thoughts aroused by the chime of a bell, the street cries which drifted up -to his window, the rustle of a branch in the trees outside, the tramp of -footsteps on his staircase, the shouts from a distant quad. The effort was -too much for him. Oxford had completely stifled whatever will-power he had -ever possessed. He was beaten by her, robbed of the faculty of using the -gifts which God had given him. He emerged from the struggle with several -pages of <i>scenario</i>, and nothing more was ever attempted.</p> - -<p>The praise of his friends round the Oxford tea-tables turned him into a -consistent prevaricator. “To-morrow I will write! To-morrow shall see my -epoch-making poem. To-morrow!†But to-morrow came and was passed in equal -idleness and futilities. “Wait till I get to London. Ah, then!†He was -convinced that he had but to arrive in the metropolis to be the centre of -a storm of praise and admiration. The praise and adulation poured upon him -by his fellow Undergraduates convinced him that his wit and genius would -make a brilliant success in London, and win him a fortune. But it was not -to be. His weakness and lack of resolve and initiative had triumphed. He -became an <i>habitué</i> of coffee-houses, and formed acquaintances with -actors, wasting his time at stage doors. He soon dissipated his money, and -became badly in debt. The schemes for work by which to win fame and -retrieve his fortunes died at their birth, and nothing was carried -through.</p> - -<p>There cannot be definitely laid at Oxford’s door the accusation of being -the root of the insanity which subsequently developed in him. But it was -undoubtedly the fault of Oxford that he lost so soon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> the power over his -will which he possessed before his Undergraduate days. Such a man as -Collins needed the control of a guiding hand, some strong man whose -influence would have acted as a spur, and whose example would have led to -regular hours and serious work. Oxford, however, provided no such man. The -appointed tutor, who must have been a person gross in mind and body, took -no trouble with his charge, exercised no care, left him, indeed, to his -own resources. With him lies the blame for Collins’ madness. By leaving -him to follow the loose example of the Undergraduates of the time, who -acted upon the caprice of the moment whether for good or evil, that tutor -withheld, however unconsciously, the support for which the fragile mind of -Collins craved. Consequently, under the evil influence of -eighteenth-century Oxford, the holds upon his will which kept Collins -within the bounds of sanity were gradually loosened, until at length, a -few years after his going down, his reason entirely left him, and he who -should have been one of the world’s greatest poets was lost.</p> - -<hr style="width: 25%;" /> - -<p>In a room on the second floor over the gateway at Pembroke Dr Johnson -lived during his Undergraduate career. A large-browed, unusual looking -lad, whose clothes were even then ill-fitting and badly cut, he came up at -the age of nineteen under the protecting wing of his father; was duly -introduced to his tutor, and moved in, reverently and tenderly, the only -household gods that he possessed—his books.</p> - -<p>Of a melancholic and somewhat bitter disposition already, he was, if -possible, even more lonely and unsought than the average freshman. This -condition of things caused him no regret. All his friends he brought with -him to line the bookshelves, and, sporting his oak against an unrealising -and unappreciative world, he revelled in the poets and the classics with -uninterrupted bliss. But the vitality of youth does<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> not long remain -daunted, and Johnson soon threw off his melancholia and sallied forth into -the cobbled streets in search of amusement or adventure. Through the -bare-armed trees of the Broad Walk he made his way and joined in the -sliding in the frozen Christ Church meadows. Work was forgotten in the -biting, frosty, invigorating air, and for four days his tutor saw him not. -Ice does not come every year, and Johnson made the most of it while it -lasted.</p> - -<p>The college exercises were child’s play to him. Unlike the majority of -Undergraduates of the time, who read nothing but what was put into their -hands by their tutor, Johnson brought with him to the university such a -wide acquaintance with books, both of classics and poetry, that the Master -of Pembroke said in all sincerity that he was better qualified for the -university than any man during his time. With such knowledge and with the -impetuousness that was always one of his chief characteristics, it is not -to be wondered at that Johnson dashed off his exercises at top speed, and -with a brilliance that created awe in the minds of the Dons. In one case, -for instance, being requested to translate Pope’s <i>Messiah</i> into Latin -verse, Johnson retired to his chamber and there, behind closed doors, -wrote feverishly on a corner of his book-strewn table. The results of his -rapid labours were twofold. He established a great reputation not only in -his college but in the entire university, and, more than that, earned -Pope’s highest praise, and brought about his statement that in later days -it would be a question whether his own or Johnson’s version would be -considered the original. One of his favourite haunts was Pembroke gate. -There he lounged away his mornings, doing no work, attending no lectures, -and preventing a crowd of listening Undergraduates from doing work or -attending lectures. Like a king surrounded by his court, Johnson, unkempt -of hair and ragged of clothes, with shoes down at heel and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> fit only for -the rubbish heap, let fly his wit and satire upon every topic. The shouts -of laughter which he provoked from his compeers bound them to him as -though he had been a Pied Piper, and it was to empty benches that the Dons -delivered their empty discourses. Against the tutors and Fellows also he -turned his tongue, and his satire and humour at their expense allied the -Undergraduates still more closely to him. But these merry meetings in the -Pembroke gateway were only a pose on Johnson’s part. He wished to convey a -certain impression, and he succeeded. The Master of Pembroke told Boswell -that he “was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and -frolicksome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his life.â€</p> - -<p>This was indeed a proof of the success of his pose; for in reality he was -neither gay nor happy. His poverty, the bareness of his rooms, the -shabbiness of his dress, the consequent inability to go anywhere, even -into Christ Church, or do any of the things that the other men did who had -money, ground into his soul. He was bitterly sensitive of these things, -and the least reference to them, however delicate or well-meaning, either -aroused a torrent of hot words, or caused him to retreat clam-like into -his shell. The man who in a spirit of discreet friendship crept up to his -rooms, left a new pair of shoes outside his door and stole unseen away, -was only rewarded for his good-nature by learning that Johnson had thrown -them out of the window in a burst of fury against the creation that had -left him penniless. It was only the fact that scornful eyes (or at any -rate Johnson’s touchiness interpreted scorn into them) were turned upon -his shoes, through which his feet peered frankly out, that Johnson ceased -going to Christ Church to obtain, second hand, the lectures of Bateman -from his friend Taylor. He conceived poverty to be an awful and dangerous -state. After his father had died, leaving practically nothing for his -mother and himself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> Johnson wrote in one of his little diaries: -“Meanwhile let me take care that the powers of my mind may not be -debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me into criminal -act.†By force of having no money, and not receiving any remittances from -his father, by whom every penny had to be made to go the distance of two, -he naturally incurred debts at Oxford. As he knew, however, that it would -be only with difficulty that his expenses would be met at all, his debts -were not large, and any incipient extravagance that may have been in him -was crushed out very early. His one great craving was to replenish his -library, and as this was impossible he took every opportunity of visiting -the well-stocked libraries of other people. These gave him intense joy, -and his first move was always to cross to the bookshelves and there, -oblivious of his host and the whole world, to pour over the beloved -volumes.</p> - -<p>His faculty for poetical and prose writings was already strongly developed -when first he came up to Oxford, and the original points of view from -which he wrote his themes were a subject of great comment. The rest of the -Undergraduates were as children when compared to one of his mental -abilities. Even his tutor admitted that his position was farcical, and -that Johnson was far above him in brain capacity, for he said on one -occasion that “I was his nominal tutor but he was above my mark.†And the -lad was then but some nineteen years of age! Merely to perform college -exercises was absurd and irritating to one of his hasty dispositions. -Having rattled them off, he used to read by himself, but with such a -varied and impetuous taste that his knowledge seemed to include every -subject of which anything had ever been written. Boswell says that “he -told me, that from his earliest years he loved to read poetry, but hardly -ever read any poem to an end; that he read Shakespeare at a period so -early, that the speech of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> the ghost in <i>Hamlet</i> terrified him when he was -alone; that <i>Horace’s Odes</i> were the composition in which he took most -delight, and it was not long before he liked his <i>Epistles</i> and -<i>Satires</i>.... What he read most solidly at Oxford was Greek; not the -Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, and now and then a little -epigram; that the study of which he was most fond was Metaphysicks.†But -for all his brilliance Johnson went down without taking a degree. His -father’s death rendered it impossible for him to remain at Oxford for the -full course, and he never went in for the schools.</p> - -<p>While at the university he did not form many great friendships. His was -not the temperament. A highly sensitive man, surrounded for the most part -by men of some wealth who were ever ready to incur expenses, he was always -on the look-out for an objectionable glance of pity or sympathy, than -which there was to him nothing worse or more heinous. With his wonderful -talents it was rather for him to look down upon the vacuous moneyed men -than permit himself to be patronised by them. Consequently, fully -realising the almost insurmountable handicap of comparative penury, -Johnson preferred to make his way by force of brain power or not at all, -rather than bow down to the man with a fat purse. As he himself said in -after life, “I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I -disregarded all authority.â€</p> - -<p>As a man of readiness and physical pluck he was without rival. In the -summer the thought of sunshine and the wonderful green colourings of the -trees called him from his books, and collecting a companion on the way, he -was used to saunter through the parks to enjoy a bathe. His pulses -tingling with the delight of being alive and young on a glorious day, with -the softly waving branches rustling overhead, and the quiet river gliding -at his feet, Johnson’s flow of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> fancies kept his companion entranced until -they had thrown off their clothes and were ready for the first cool -splash. There existed apparently a certain deep hole in the river bed in -one of the places where they used to bathe, and Johnson’s friend warned -him of the danger. Immediately, with the uncaring folly of youth, Johnson -plunged into the very spot to his friend’s horror and anxiety. In a few -moments he emerged, blowing like a healthy grampus, and poured ridicule -upon his well-meaning if timid friend. He was, indeed, foolhardy to the -point of braggadocio. A very sure proof of this is afforded by an incident -which occurred when he was staying at Mr Beauclerk’s house in the country. -The guests were outside the house one day on the lawn discussing the -merits of their guns, when one of them pointed out that if a gun were -loaded with many balls there was a danger of its bursting. Johnson -promptly slipped in some seven or eight and fired his gun against the wall -of the house. Instead of rating him soundly for his egregiously childish -love of showing off, Boswell, in his blind idolatry, praises this up as -being “resolution.â€</p> - -<p>At Oxford, and in fact afterwards, it was Johnson’s habit to sally forth -at night time for solitary walks. His great affection for Oxford was -doubtless stimulated by these lonely prowls through the moonlit streets, -and his entire disregard for the consequences of his actions helped him in -his climbs back into college. One can picture him dropping out of Pembroke -after careful glances to right and left to see that all was clear, and -marching along with his hands behind his back, safe from the scornful eyes -of Smarts, which made his mean clothes infinitely more uncomfortable, his -eyes drinking in the beauties of the wonderful skyline of the City of -Spires, his mind occupied perhaps in thinking out Rasselas as he made his -way through the narrow, deserted streets. On one of these expeditions four -roughs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> sprang out upon him suddenly from the shadow of a gateway, intent -on relieving him of the purse and jewellery which they supposed him to -have. Their mistake was twofold, for, in addition to lighting upon a poor -man, they had also caught a tartar. Johnson, young and active, struck out -lustily and with skill, and, setting his back to the wall, battered the -scoundrels right royally. Savage at being resisted, the men renewed their -attack with the idea of vengeance, but Johnson, with no other aid than his -fists, kept them at bay until the quick tramp of feet hurrying round the -corner announced the presence of the watch, and both the attackers and -their would-be victim were carried off to the round-house.</p> - -<p>At a later period in his career when, one would have thought, his quick -temper should have been entirely under control, he had an amusing -adventure in the playhouse at Lichfield which showed, plainly enough, both -that he could still lose his temper and that he had sufficient strength to -carry things through. A chair had been placed for Johnson’s express use -between the side scenes. Wishing, however, to speak with some one in -another part of the building, he left it for a moment. Some gentleman -promptly took possession, and Johnson, finding on his return that his -place was occupied, civilly demanded his seat. The gentleman rudely -refused to give it up. In a flash Johnson laid hold of him and tossed both -man and chair into the pit.</p> - -<p>In spite of the fact that Johnson at Pembroke suffered tortures from being -poor, and that his gay and frolicsome habits were merely a cloak to hide -his bitterness, yet he contracted a love for his college which endured to -his death. It was a matter of pride to him to run over the list of names -of the celebrated men educated at the same college: such names as Spenser, -Shenstone, Blackstone, and others. In the “Memoirs of the Life and -Correspondence of Hannah Moore†is found the following<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> passage -illustrative of his love for the old college. “Who do you think is my -present cicerone at Oxford? Only Dr Johnson! and we do so gallant it -about! You cannot imagine with what delight he showed me every part of his -own college.... Dr Adams, the Master of Pembroke, had contrived a very -pretty piece of gallantry. We spent the day and evening at his house. -After dinner Johnson begged to conduct me to see the college, he would let -no one else show it me but himself. ‘This was my room; this Shenstone’s.’ -Then after pointing out all the rooms of the poets who had been of his -college, ‘In short,’ said he, ‘we were a nest of singing birds. Here we -walked, there played cricket.’ He ran over with pleasure the history of -the juvenile days he passed there.... But alas! Johnson looks very ill -indeed—spiritless and wan. However he made an effort to be cheerful....â€</p> - -<p>As a last token of his love for Pembroke he sent the college a present of -all his works. This was done just before his death, and Boswell tells us -that he was most anxious to bequeath his house at Lichfield to the college -as well. His friends, however, “very properly dissuaded him from it.â€</p> - -<hr style="width: 25%;" /> - -<p>And now reluctantly I lay down my pen. It would be possible to continue -for ever with such a subject as Oxford. Oxford, filled with the mystic -echoes of the past, and the life and movement of the present, where a man -passes four of the best years of his life, making livelong friendships, -feeling things, doing things, and seeing things which remain indelibly -engraved in his mind. Memories of Oxford have moved singers and poets to -ecstasies of emotional utterance, inspired great writers with beautiful -thoughts, and have been the one ray of comforting light in dark and -miserable lives. Is there, or has there ever been, a man who,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> having -known the protection of the old city’s walls, and explored the tree-shaded -meanderings of the limpid Cher, having rioted after an athletic triumph -and burnt the midnight oil with an intimate friend, having been, in short, -a full-blooded Undergraduate, has gone down without any love for <i>Alma -mater</i> in his heart, who has felt no thrill in after years when looking -back upon his Oxford years? Surely such a creature was never born. -Oxford’s charm is, essentially, not for the few. It strikes the heart of -every one of her countless sons. Year follows year, and century, century, -and the stream of men flows unceasingly in and out of the city’s gates. -Does Oxford change, however? Another wrinkle on her face may betray the -lapse of many decades, but her beauty remains. She is still the same.</p> - -<p class="poem">“Still on her spire the pigeons hover;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Still by her gateway haunts the gown;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Ah, but her secret? you, young lover,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Drumming her old ones, forth from town,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Know you the secret none discover?</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Tell it when you go down.</span><br /> -<br /> -“Yet if at length you seek her, prove her,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Lean to her whispers never so nigh;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Yet if at last not less her lover</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">You in your hansom leave the High;</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Down from her towers a ray shall hover—</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Touch you, a passer by.â€<a name='fna_31' id='fna_31' href='#f_31'><small>[31]</small></a></span></p> - - -<p> </p> -<p class="center"><small>PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET.</small></p> - - - -<p> </p><p> </p> -<hr style="width: 50%;" /> -<p><b>Footnotes:</b></p> - -<p><a name='f_1' id='f_1' href='#fna_1'>[1]</a> “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch.</p> - -<p><a name='f_2' id='f_2' href='#fna_2'>[2]</a> “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch.</p> - -<p><a name='f_3' id='f_3' href='#fna_3'>[3]</a> “Random Records,†by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830).</p> - -<p><a name='f_4' id='f_4' href='#fna_4'>[4]</a> “Random Records,†by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830).</p> - -<p><a name='f_5' id='f_5' href='#fna_5'>[5]</a> “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth.</p> - -<p><a name='f_6' id='f_6' href='#fna_6'>[6]</a> “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch.</p> - -<p><a name='f_7' id='f_7' href='#fna_7'>[7]</a> “Oxford Studies,†by J. R. Green (Macmillan & Co).</p> - -<p><a name='f_8' id='f_8' href='#fna_8'>[8]</a> “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth.</p> - -<p><a name='f_9' id='f_9' href='#fna_9'>[9]</a> <i>Ibid.</i></p> - -<p><a name='f_10' id='f_10' href='#fna_10'>[10]</a> “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch.</p> - -<p><a name='f_11' id='f_11' href='#fna_11'>[11]</a> “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth.</p> - -<p><a name='f_12' id='f_12' href='#fna_12'>[12]</a> “Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth†(London 1820).</p> - -<p><a name='f_13' id='f_13' href='#fna_13'>[13]</a> “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth.</p> - -<p><a name='f_14' id='f_14' href='#fna_14'>[14]</a> “Reminiscences of Oxford,†by L. Quiller-Couch.</p> - -<p><a name='f_15' id='f_15' href='#fna_15'>[15]</a> “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth.</p> - -<p><a name='f_16' id='f_16' href='#fna_16'>[16]</a> “Reminiscences of a Literary Life,†by T. F. Dibdin, London, 1836.</p> - -<p><a name='f_17' id='f_17' href='#fna_17'>[17]</a> “Recollections of Particulars in Life of late Mr William Shenstone,†-by the Rev. Richard Graves.</p> - -<p><a name='f_18' id='f_18' href='#fna_18'>[18]</a> Terrae Filius.</p> - -<p><a name='f_19' id='f_19' href='#fna_19'>[19]</a> “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth.</p> - -<p><a name='f_20' id='f_20' href='#fna_20'>[20]</a> “Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon†(London, 1796).</p> - -<p><a name='f_21' id='f_21' href='#fna_21'>[21]</a> “Essays Moral and Literary,†by Vicesimus Knox.</p> - -<p><a name='f_22' id='f_22' href='#fna_22'>[22]</a> “Oxford Studies,†by J.R. Green (Messrs Macmillan & Co.).</p> - -<p><a name='f_23' id='f_23' href='#fna_23'>[23]</a> “Social Life at the Universities,†by Chris. Wordsworth.</p> - -<p><a name='f_24' id='f_24' href='#fna_24'>[24]</a> “Life of William, Earl of Shelburne,†by Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice -(London, 1895).</p> - -<p><a name='f_25' id='f_25' href='#fna_25'>[25]</a> “University Education,†by Dr Newton (London, 1726).</p> - -<p><a name='f_26' id='f_26' href='#fna_26'>[26]</a> “Boswell’s Life of Johnson.â€</p> - -<p><a name='f_27' id='f_27' href='#fna_27'>[27]</a> “Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon†(London, 1796).</p> - -<p><a name='f_28' id='f_28' href='#fna_28'>[28]</a> “Reminiscences of a Literary Life,†by T. F. Dibdin.</p> - -<p><a name='f_29' id='f_29' href='#fna_29'>[29]</a> “Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth†(London, 1820).</p> - -<p><a name='f_30' id='f_30' href='#fna_30'>[30]</a> To which he transferred from Magdalen Hall.</p> - -<p><a name='f_31' id='f_31' href='#fna_31'>[31]</a> A. C. Quiller-Couch.</p> - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. 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aa6488c..0000000 --- a/old/42960.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7109 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. Hamilton Gibbs - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Rowlandson's Oxford - -Author: A. Hamilton Gibbs - -Illustrator: Thomas Rowlandson - -Release Date: June 16, 2013 [EBook #42960] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive.) - - - - - - - - - -ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - - -[Illustration: FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH.] - - - - - ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - BY A. HAMILTON GIBBS - (ST JOHN'S COLLEGE) - - - LONDON - KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. LTD. - 1911 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - CHAPTER I THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools-- - Manhood--Lonely freshers--The "pi" man--The newcomer's - metamorphosis--The Lownger's day--Regrets at being down 1-8 - - CHAPTER II THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and "easy pads"--Farewell to - parents--A forlorn animal--Terrae Filius's advice--Much - prayers--"Hell has no fury like a woman scorned"--The - disadvantages of a conscience 9-17 - - CHAPTER III THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker-- - Colman and the Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford - manner--_Homunculi Togati_--Academia and a mother's - love--The jovial father--Underground dog-holes and - shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night 18-28 - - CHAPTER IV THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne's coffee-house and the _billet doux_-- - Tick--Liquor capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_-- - Latin odes for tradesmen only 29-38 - - CHAPTER V THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven-- - The President under her thumb--Amhurst's table of cons.-- - King Charles and the other place 39-45 - - CHAPTER VI THE SERVITOR - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors 46-54 - - CHAPTER VII SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper's--Southey at Balliol--Cox's six-oared - crew--The river-side barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes - against games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses - and badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights-- - Paniotti's Fencing Academy--Old-time "bug-shooters"-- - Skating in Christ Church meadows--Cricket and the - Bullingdon Club--Walking tours 55-68 - - CHAPTER VIII CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the "Lunatics"--The - Constitution Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and - minutes--High Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers 69-82 - - CHAPTER IX WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen-- - The "Vindication"--Opposing and responding--"Schemes"-- - Doing austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents-- - Magdalen collections 83-94 - - CHAPTER X 'VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson's _Oxford Journal_-- - Domestic intelligence--Election poems--Curious - advertisements--Superabundance of St John's editors-- - Terrae Filius 95-108 - - CHAPTER XI 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Student_--Cambridge included--Its design--The female - student--Poem by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury's - letter--The manly woman 109-121 - - CHAPTER XII 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to - the _Cozeners_, written by Garrick--Visions, fables, and - moral tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789 122-135 - - CHAPTER XIII 'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet_--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford_-- - _The Oxford Act_--_The Oxford Sausage_--Present and latter - day literature summed up 136-141 - - CHAPTER XIV THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student's_ opinion of one--A tradesman's poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties-- - Tradesmen's taste in literature--Advertising and _The - Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, innkeeper--Amhurst's - confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts 142-152 - - CHAPTER XV THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr - Newton on tutors' fees--Dr Johnson's recommendation of - Bateman--Public lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham - man's letter 153-162 - - CHAPTER XVI THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining-- - College Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the - Magdalen Dons--Heads of colleges--Their domestic and - public character--Golgotha and Ben Numps--St John's head - pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and Randolph 163-174 - - CHAPTER XVII THE DON--(continued) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of - a degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from - Black Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Isaac Walton and - the senior Proctor--Amhurst's character sketch of a - certain Proctor 175-183 - - CHAPTER XVIII CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards - and claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered - afterwards--Edward Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism - towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman Catholic--Subsequent - apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking orders--Germs of - ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism 184-198 - - CHAPTER XIX CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work-- - Oxford kills his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel - Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely freshman--Translates Pope's - _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from poverty--Dr Adam, his - tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of showing - off--His love of Pembroke 199-210 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - FRONT VIEW OF CHRIST CHURCH _Frontispiece_ - - VIEW OF ST MARY'S CHURCH AND RADCLIFFE LIBRARY _To face page_ 9 - - COLLEGE SERVICE " 15 - - A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE, ETC., AT OXFORD " 19 - - BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD " 30 - - MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE QUADRANGLE " 40 - - A 'VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN " 45 - - VIEW OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE " 53 - - NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON'S STUDY AT OXFORD " 59 - - A DUCK HUNT " 66 - - A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS' COLLEGE " 74 - - THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN " 92 - - OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING " 133 - - A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD " 160 - - MERTON COLLEGE " 177 - - STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH " 193 - - - - -FOREWORD - - -The task of writing a book on Oxford University is by no means an easy -one. If it be a novel there are countless pitfalls to entrap the -author--points small and inconsequent to the reader who cannot proudly -claim the City of Spires as his Alma Mater, but irritating beyond -description to the man who knows and loves Oxford. - -But if modern Oxford dealt with from the romantic and sentimental point of -view as the background of a story contains such a network of difficulties, -the Oxford of two hundred years ago, Rowlandson's Oxford, contains them -multiplied a hundred times, because it now becomes a question not of -reproducing the vivid pictures of the hour and moment, but of recreating -the atmosphere of a time that is silent in death. - -It is, therefore, with great diffidence that I have attempted to -resuscitate the life and moods of Oxford of the eighteenth century. Barely -two years have elapsed since the days when I looked out from my windows -into the quad of my college. All the work and play, the alarums and -excursions which go to form the life of the average Undergraduate have not -yet had time to fade into dim, half forgotten memories. Alma Mater still -grasps me in her warm hand. So vivid indeed are all the impressions which -I received from the friendly gargoyles and the peace-touched lawns, the -beautiful colleges with their silent cloisters, the full-blooded -twenty-firsters and bump-suppers, and the thousand and one everyday -happenings, that I might be merely awaiting the passing of vacation to go -up once more. - -With all the Undergraduate interests still so strongly at heart, I think -that it is natural that I should have studied the Rowlandson period with -the mind of the Undergraduate and have carried out my task from the -Undergraduate point of view. It is difficult to give any idea of the -quaintness, delight, and amusement caused by going back two hundred years -to a University so like and so unlike--like, in that the men, although so -different outwardly, had practically the same ideas as we have and carried -them out in the same colleges, even in the same rooms, in a precisely -similar manner; unlike in that the Dons were a breed of men differing in -every respect from those who look after us to-day. - -Working, then, on the hypothesis that Oxford men in Rowlandson's time were -identical with ourselves, I have drawn analogies between every step in the -lives of both. I have endeavoured to show that from the beginning of their -fresherdom, when they felt self-conscious, _gauche_, and timid, down to -the days when they took their degrees and knew Oxford blindfold in all her -moods and tenses, they possessed the same outlook, had the same -aspirations and ambitions, and were filled with the same admiration and -love of Alma Mater as the men of to-day. For instance, as a freshman the -Georgian Undergraduate curiously watched the seniors who were responsible -for the tone of their college. Gradually he sloughed both his nervousness -and his un-Oxford wardrobe and began to assert his own individuality. -Little by little he discovered new sides of Oxford life, new haunts in -which he began to feel at home. Daily he made new acquaintances who, as -time went by, ripened into friends. Eventually, by the end of his first -year, he had so absorbed Oxford into his personality that he in turn was -able to condescend to the next year's arrivals. During this time his -attitude towards the Dons, the statutes, the schools--to everything, in -short, outside the immediate Undergraduate side of life--varied with the -terms. At the beginning they were subjects only to be broached with awe -and deliberation. But the more he came into contact with an ever -increasing circle of friends, the sooner his respect changed into -ridicule, disgust, and finally, when a senior, into amused toleration. - -In precis form such was the development of the eighteenth-century -Undergraduate. His metamorphosis into a "blood," with all its amusing -accompaniments and accomplishments--the former consisting of the latest -fashions in clothes and the _entree_ to the innermost recesses of the -Maudlin Groves in the company of the most celebrated Oxford damsel; the -latter of a facility for dashing off a well thought out extempore series -of oaths, being the handiest man at a tea-table, drinking more than any -other buck of his acquaintance before finally succumbing, to follow in the -natural sequence of events according to the temperament of the freshman. -Had he a leaning towards becoming a "blood" not only was there nothing to -stop him, but, on the contrary, all the existing conditions were such as -to facilitate the execution of his desires. - -In all these phrases the old-time Undergraduate can be compared with his -modern brothers. In his dealings with the river-side barmaids, the local -tradesmen, and the proctors he pursued much the same ingenuous methods -which are used with equal success to-day. Just as we become members of -unlimited numbers of year clubs and settle the affairs of the entire human -species at the nightly meetings with ease and eloquence, they, too, formed -societies and took themselves with a similar seriousness. They contributed -literary morsels to the Undergraduate papers which satirised existing -institutions in the same youthful manner in which we satirise them. They -conducted "rags" with a thoroughness and disregard of results which ended -in the same speedy rustication of the ringleaders which inevitably -overtakes the men who are still unwise enough to be found out. - -In a word, my object has been not to compare the ethics of the university -to-day with those of yesterday, but rather to set forth an analogy between -Dons and Undergraduates of that period and this, and the business of their -daily life, from the point of view of one upon whom the influence of Alma -Mater has not yet been mellowed into an analytical remembrance by long -contact with the world which lies beyond her spires. - -Whether I have succeeded in proving my case remains to be seen. At least I -venture to hope that the results of my work may form a frame for -Rowlandson's pictures which are here reproduced for the first time from -Rowlandson's original water-colour drawings. - -Of these pictures many were engraved at the time in aquatint, but the -engraver was as a rule so obsessed with the Georgian ideas of the -beautiful in architecture that he practically reconstructed the majority -of the buildings represented, in accordance with that idea, so that some -of the most beautiful and characteristic buildings in Oxford and -Cambridge, so delicately portrayed by Rowlandson's pencil, are turned into -rectangular monstrosities, the like of which was never seen in either -university town. - -The superiority of hand-engraving over modern processes is evident enough, -when the engraving itself was made by the artist; but when the original -drawing is so hopelessly misrepresented as is the case with many of the -aquatints of Rowlandson's drawings, the modern facsimile processes have -their obvious advantages. - -It is therefore claimed that Rowlandson's drawings of Oxford are here -reproduced for the first time, and it is believed that they will be a -revelation to many who have hitherto looked upon Rowlandson merely as a -somewhat gross caricaturist. The caricaturist, it is true, is still here -depicting in the foregrounds characteristic scenes in the university life -of the time, but here is also another Rowlandson with an appreciation of -the beauties of Oxford rare indeed in his age, and one who is able to -delineate them with accuracy and delicacy which have seldom been equalled -in the portrayal of such subjects. - -The author desires to express his gratitude to the Rev. Christopher -Wordsworth for having very kindly granted him permission to make -quotations from "Social Life in the English Universities"; and to Messrs -Macmillan & Co., publishers of J. R. Green's "Oxford Studies," for -allowing him to make two quotations from that book; and also to Mr R. S. -Rait of the Oxford Historical Society for having permitted him to quote -from Miss L. Quiller-Couch's "Reminiscences of Oxford," published by that -society. - - - - -ROWLANDSON'S OXFORD - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE UNDERGRADUATE THEN AND NOW - - Blissful ignorance--The real education--Empty schools--Manhood--Lonely - freshers--The "pi" man--The newcomer's metamorphosis--The Lownger's - day--Regrets at being down. - - -How few of us there are to-day who ever devote even the slack hour between -tea and "hotters" and Hall to finding out something at least about the -Undergraduates who had our rooms two centuries ago. Yet to every man the -word Oxford conjures up vast vague shadows from the past which make him as -a freshman tread softly and with reverence through the quads and gardens, -High Streets and by-streets of the City of Spires. Great names rise up -into our minds and fill us with wonder, but the scout knocks at our door -with half-cold food and our dreams dissolve into irritated reality. There -may come a moment, perhaps, when, with feet at rest upon the mantel-shelf -and a straight-grained pipe bubbling in quiet response between our teeth, -we are deafening our ears to the call of bed, the slow-flowing -conversation drifts by chance to a casual query as to what our -predecessors did at the same hour two hundred years ago. Beyond a few more -or less unimaginative surmises we remain in ignorance, blissful and -uncaring, believing them to be strange-clothed beings of stilted language -and curious habits, and at once the talk turns to present and more -pleasant topics. We little think that to all intents and purposes we are -almost exactly the same as our old-time-brethren. - -To-day we row, play cricket, football, tennis, golf; we cut our lectures -when we safely can and "binge" at every opportunity. Schools do occupy us, -it is true, but as a mere secondary item in the university scheme of -things--and rightly so. A degree, however good, does not, by itself, make -men of us and teach us how to live. It is the social life of the -university which is the real education and which sends us out into the -world ready to face anything and everything. By developing our bodies we -develop our minds, and in this programme of athletics and sociability we -are a replica of our eighteenth-century brethren. They rose about nine, -breakfasted at ten, and dallied away the morning with a flute or the -latest French comedy. By way of strenuous exercise, necessitated by a -climate which was just as evil then as now, they walked, rode, rowed, or -skated, and in the evening figured at the Mitre or Tuns where they made -merry into the small hours with beer, claret, or punch. - -To them schools were much less a source of worry than they are to us, for, -beyond attending occasional disputations and an odd lecture or so, when a -Don could be persuaded to give one, they obtained their degree by the -simple but expensive process of drinking the examiner--usually a hardened -toper--under the table overnight. He was then led, in the morning, while -still pleasantly fuddled, to the schools, and there, in consideration of a -respectable douceur, he signed away the necessary papers with a beaming -and self-satisfied smile. They knew nothing of the humours of white ties, -dark suits, and a week's terrible strain to get a First in Honour -Mods--before the Finals are even thought of. The shivering crowds waiting -in the Hall to be led to the slaughter did not exist in those days. A -Trinity man named Skinner, who matriculated in 1790, flung himself at the -subject in satirical verse:-- - - "Enter we next the Public Schools - Where now a death-like stillness rules; - Yet these still walls in days of yore - Back to the streets returned the roar of hundreds.... - But since their champion Aristotle - Has been deserted for the bottle - The benches stand like Prebends' stalls - Lone and deserted 'gainst the walls."[1] - -No sooner have we finished with our public school days, when we are known -as boys, and have either scrambled over the "Smalls" hedge with some -humility and relief, or else have secured the privilege of lording it in a -scholar's gown, than we instantly become men. We may be anything between -eighteen and twenty, but if a sister, brother, or cousin be unwary enough -to refer to us as a boy--woe unto him or her! We may pretend that we do -not mind, but in our heart of hearts we rejoice in being Oxford "men," and -guard our title jealously. We are not, however, unique in this. It is a -habit which has come down to us from the eighteenth century when they were -just as jealous of such points of etiquette. - -George Colman the younger tells us that he came upon two freshmen of that -time who had had a quarrel. Six months before they blacked each other's -eyes at Westminster in the good old British way. Now, however, being -Oxford men, they could not descend to such a childish level, but agreed to -afford each other "gentlemanly satisfaction." They may have lacked a -certain sense of humour, but it was the right spirit, and it is safe to -conclude that they both did well at their respective colleges. - -The lonely freshman of to-day who has no friends already in residence -wanders round just as nervously and makes the same _faux pas_ as did his -predecessors. It takes him just as long to find his feet and settle down -and make friends. Exactly in the same way also if he knows men already up -he is welcomed by them, invited to heavy breakfasts and put right on -matters of etiquette: such as never by any chance to wear square and gown -unless absolutely compelled to--and all the other minutiae which are of -such importance. In the eighteenth century a freshman was taken by his -senior friends to the Mitre and sat in front of a bowl of punch with brown -toast bobbing in it. He heard sonnets recited to the eyelashes of Sylvia. -He was taught to drink on his knees to Phyllis or Chloe, or some other -fair female of the moment. He was taken to the barber's and shown how to -wear a wig instead of his own hair. In fact, his feet were set in the -proper path then in just the same friendly spirit as now. - -They had their clubs and societies at which, in the intervals of drinking, -they indicted Latin poems or discussed some important political question -where we, over mulled claret and other comestibles, read papers on "The -Abolition of the Halfpenny Press," or "The Glories of Tariff Reform." They -had big dinners, and tried to find their way home in the small hours. We -have our fresher's wines and bump suppers in which the whole college -participates with the sole object of enjoying good wine and destroying -good furniture, and we crawl home, if we are outside college, through the -same streets. To-day we have the "pi" man who sternly refuses to -countenance such evil things as fresher's wines; who has signed the pledge -and eschews tobacco. If he is compelled by an outraged band of senior men -to lend his presence against his better judgment, and is led out from a -room in a state of Dore-like chaos, he becomes uproarious on a glass of -water and two bananas, and writes home to his mother that his bill for -repairs is enormous owing to his bravery in being a martyr to his -principles, and that drunkenness is on the increase among the -Undergraduates. All the same he thoroughly enjoys himself, and in time -wears off rough corners and learns how to keep his vows without any -objectionable fanfare. At the end of the eighteenth century a man of this -kidney named Crosse wrote to his mother: "Oxford is a perfect hell upon -earth. What chance is there for an unfortunate lad just come from school -with no one to watch and care for him--no guide? I often saw my tutor -carried off perfectly intoxicated." I can see the man crouching in a dark -corner of the quad appalled at the sight of his fellows dancing round a -bonfire, while his tutor rushes by on the arms of a festive crowd in full -rejoicing at some college triumph. It would be interesting to ascertain -Crosse's views at the end of his university career. He remained, however, -in the obscurity of mediocrity. - -Our trousseau when we first appear at the university consists of modest -socks and humble waistcoats, and ties which make no claim to originality -or even to smartness. They are content to be merely useful and to fulfil -their appointed functions. But does not every parent learn subsequently, -with dreadful results to his peace of mind, how after our first month we -make our way unerringly to the tailors and clothiers, and there with -deadly earnestness absorb colour schemes which cry a loud challenge to -Joseph's coat? Our waistcoats are dreams,--sometimes nightmares; the -blending of harmony between shirt, tie, and socks is as perfect as the -rainbow. Our hair, which used to be parted carelessly down one side, now -disdains partings and goes straight back in one beautiful Magdalen sweep. -Our trousers are thrown at the scout's head as a gift unless they be of -unparalleled width and of exceptional crease. - -This tendency to burst forth into strange and variegated garments in token -of our emancipation from apron strings was just as strong in the old days. -The sons of country farmers came trooping into Oxford, their clouted shoes -thick with good red earth, in linsey wolsey coats, with greasy, uncombed -heads of hair flapping in the wind. Their stockings were of coarse yarn, -and they knew nothing better than to have long muslin neckcloths run with -red at the ends. But they soon realised the contempt in which they were -held for this dull chrysalis-like appearance. After a few weeks these -shamefaced clodhoppers sneaked into the side door of the barbers' shops to -emerge proudly by the front entrance in a bob wig. Their clouted shoes -were relegated to young brothers, and they wore new ones--Oxford cut. -Their yarn stockings gave place to worsted, until, after a very short -interval between their arrival and their settling down, they blushed out -like butterflies in tye wigs and ruffles and silk gowns. The "blood" of -that period, or, as the term then was, the "smart," or the "buck of the -first head," was distinguished when he aired his person, Amhurst told us, -"by a stiff silk gown which rustles in the wind as he struts along; a -flaxen tye wig, or sometimes a long natural one which reaches down below -his rump; a broad bully cock'd hat, or a square cap of above twice the -usual size; white stockings, thin Spanish leather shoes; his cloaths lined -with tawdry silk, and his shirt ruffled down the bosom as well as at the -wrists. Besides all which marks, he has a delicate jaunt in his gait, and -smells philosophically of essence." - -How his direct descendant, the Bullingdon man, must envy him his -magnificent opportunities of making a brave show! Not for him the silk -gown, the bully cocked hat. The best he can do in imitation is the amazing -dinner jacket which he sometimes sports at the theatre, under which one -finds not the accepted form of dress shirt but a peculiar form of -abortion which is neatly ruffled at "bosom and wrists." In place of the -Spanish leather shoes the last word to-day is apparently buckskin. The -"delicate jaunt in the gait" has been retained--the result being caused -now by a union of "Eton slouch" and "Oxford manner." The head still smells -of essence--honey and flowers at Hatt's, brilliantine at Martyr's. These -great-minded people think alike not only in point of dress but of the -manner of killing time. "The Lownger" summed up the process as carried out -in the eighteenth century-- - - "I rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten, - Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen, - Read a play till eleven or cock my lac'd hat, - Then step to my neighbour's, till dinner to chat. - Dinner over to Tom's or to James's I go, - The news of the town so impatient to know, - While Low, Locke and Newton and all the rum race - That talk of their Modes, their ellipses and space, - The Seat of the Soul and new Systems on high, - In Halls as abstruse as their mysteries lie. - From the coffee-house then I to Tennis away, - And at five I post back to my College to pray, - I sup before eight and secure from all duns, - Undauntedly march to the Mitre or Tuns, - Where in Punch or good Claret my sorrows I drown, - And toss off a bowl to the best in the town. - At one in the morning I call what's to pay? - Then home to my College I stagger away. - Thus I tope all the night as I trifle all day." - -Every one knows the various processes of slacking at the present time, so -that there is no need for detail. But in essence the method is the same, -and the result also. Our lunches at the Cherwell Hotel, at the riverside -inns at Iffley and Abingdon; our "Grinds"; our slacking on the river in -summer term--all these were done two centuries ago, and, just as some of -the more energetic of us seek to immortalise these doings by contributing -poems and articles to the 'varsity papers, so did the Undergraduates then -send their sonnets and Latin verses to _The Student_, the _Oxford -Magazine_, and Jackson's _Oxford Journal_. In place of the musical comedy -lady, whose silvery laughter floats down wind to-day, the Oxford toast -flaunted it right merrily in the old days. The gownsmen's tobacco accounts -then amounted to quite as much as ours do, and they wrote home for further -supplies of pocket money in almost the identical terms which we use -to-day. Yesterday's and to-day's Oxford men are one and the same. Oxford -herself and her Dons are changed, but the Undergraduate goes on doing and -thinking the same things in the same way, and when he goes down now he -feels very much as felt the eighteenth-century poet who, also down, -sang:-- - - "Could Ovid, deathless bard, forbear, - Confin'd by Scythia's frozen plains, - Cease to desire his native air - In softest elegiac strains? - Cursed with the town no more can I - For Oxford's meadow cease to sigh.... - Can I, while mem'ry lasts, forget - Oxford, thy silver rolling stream, - Thy silent walks and cool retreat - Where first I sucked the love of fame? - E'en now the thought inspires my breast - And lulls my troubled soul to rest." - -[Illustration: VIEW OF ST. MARY'S CHURCH & RADCLIFFE LIBRARY.] - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER - - First arrival--Footpads and "easy pads"--Farewell to parents--A - forlorn animal--Terrae Filius's advice--Much prayers--"Hell has no - fury like a woman scorned"--The disadvantages of a conscience. - - -The beginning of our university career is marked, unless we be Stoics, by -mixed feelings of elation and a sinking at the pit of the stomach which we -afterwards learn to recognise as "needle." The train journey may have -seemed long, but at this first breathless moment when the porter receives -our goods and chattels into his arms from the top of the moribund hansom, -we could almost wish that we were back in the train again. A sense of -isolation, and of having to stand or fall by ourselves, sweeps over like a -tidal wave, leaving us momentarily chilled and nervous. - -How different was the fresher's arrival in the eighteenth century. He -boarded a coach in the early morning in London. His baggage was placed in -the boot, and the traveller, armed to the teeth with blunderbuss and -pistols, took his seat. With a clattering of hoofs, yelling of ostlers and -merry tooting on the horn, the coach dashed out of the yard and wound -merrily along throughout the day by field, village, and town. If the -journey were a lucky one, the travellers arrived at Oxford without let or -hindrance about six o'clock in the evening, when they were able to catch a -first glimpse of the top of Radcliffe's Library. They then jolted in over -Magdalen Bridge--in those days the new bridge--and so made their way to -their respective colleges. - -Wrapped up in thick coats and with ice-cold feet tapping the side of the -coach to restore circulation, the excited fresher had ample time for -cogitation. The lets and hindrances, over and above the ordinary accidents -to horse or vehicle, such as casting a shoe or breaking a strap, were -little excitements in the form of footpads and highwayman, who infested -the district on the look-out for a fat and likely college bursar laden -with fat and likely money-bags. At the first hint of the approach of one -of these gentlemen of the road, blunderbusses were whipped out and fired -in all directions, while the horses were lashed and the coach leaned and -rocked and swayed in its efforts to get away. Afterwards, ensconced behind -a tankard in the Tuns among his somewhat condescending senior friends, the -newcomer warmed up under the influence of hot toddy and genial society, -and described the awful onslaught made upon them by at least fifty mounted -desperadoes. - -Did he come from nearer places than London, then he made his entrance on a -sedate horse, in the fashion of the gentleman-commoner who sent the -following account to Terrae Filius:-- - - "Being of age to play the fool - With muckle glee I left our school - At Hoxton, - And mounted on an easy pad - Rode with my mother and my dad - To Oxon." - -This merry bard was not exempt from the pangs of loneliness. He, too, felt -the wave of depression when his mother and dad kissed him and slowly -disappeared down the street again on their easy pads. For, after an -amusing description of purchasing gown and square, he burst into tears. - - "I sallied forth to deck my back - With loads of Tuft and black - Prunello. - My back equipt, it was not fair - My head should 'scape, and so as square - As chessboard - A cap I bought, my scull to screen, - Of cloth without and all within - Of pasteboard - When metamorphos'd in attire - More like a parson than a squire - th' had dressed me - I took my leave with many a tear - Of John our man, and parents dear - Who blessed me...."[2] - -and there he was, poor lad, probably no more than fifteen years old--of -age to play the fool--left, lachrymose and solitary, to fight his own -battles and win his M.A. spurs before coming to grips with the world. - -George Colman the younger, who matriculated at the House in 1780, and who -would most certainly have been instantly elected to the Bullingdon Club -had he gone up to-day, wrote most feelingly on the question of the lonely -fresher. "A Freshman, as a young academician is call'd on his admission at -Oxford," he said "is a forlorn animal. It is awkward for an old stager in -life to be thrown into a large company of strangers, to make his way among -them, as he can--but to the poor freshman everything is strange--not only -College society, but any society at all--and he is solitary in the midst -of a crowd. If, indeed, he should happen to come to the University -(particularly to Christ Church) from one of the great publick schools, he -finds some of his late school fellows, who, being in the same straggling -situation with himself, abridge the period of his fireside loneliness, -and of their own, by forming a familiar intercourse--otherwise he may mope -for many a week; at all events, it is generally some time before he -establishes himself in a set of acquaintance."[3] - -To-day when we have conquered Smalls and our rooms have been assigned in -college or in the house of some licensed landlady, it is customary for our -"parents dear" to lead us gently by the buttonhole into the study, and -there, with their coat tails spread wide to the blazing logs, to hold -forth in rounded periods what is termed sound advice. When it is over they -shake hands with us, both of us swallowing absurdly, and we go forth -better friends than ever. In the first number of any one of the 'varsity -"rags" for the new academic year it is safe to conclude that the "leader" -will be a word of explanation, advice, friendship, or welcome to the -newcomer. It is always facetious and invariably has a gentle dig at the -fresher's expense, though the writer, once a fresher himself, should know -better. The following is a specimen of how these things were done in the -old days:-- - - "_Wednesday, May 1, 1721._ - - "To all gentlemen School-Boys, in his majesty's dominions, who are - design'd for the University of Oxford, Terrae Filius sends greetings; - - "MY LADS,--I am so well acquainted with the variety and malapertness - of you sparks, as soon as you get out of your schoolmaster's hands, - that I know I shall be called a fusty old fellow, and a thousand - ridiculous names besides, for presuming to give advice, which I would - not, say you, take, if I was a young fellow myself. But being a very - public-spirited person, and a great well wisher to my fellow subjects - (whatever you may think of me) I am resolved, whether you mind what I - am going to say, or not, to lay you down some rules and precautions - for your conduct in the university, on the strict observation or - neglect of which your future good or ill fortune will depend; and, I - am sure that you will thank me, six or seven years hence, for this - piece of service, however troublesome and impertinent you may think it - now.... - - "I observe, in the first place, that you no sooner shake off the - authority of the birch, but you affect to distinguish yourselves from - your dirty school-fellows by a new suit of drugget, a pair of prim - ruffles, a new bob wig, and a brazen-hilted sword; in which tawdry - manner you strut about town for a week or two before you go to - College, giving your selves airs in coffee-houses and booksellers' - shops, and intruding your selves into the company of us men; from all - which, I suppose you think your selves your own master, no more - subject to controul or confinement--alas! fatal mistake! soon will you - confess that the tyrrany of a school is nothing to the tyrrany of a - college; nor the grammar-pedant to the academical one; for, what - signifies a smarting back-side to a bullied conscience? What was Busby - in comparison to D-e-l-ne? - - "And now, young gentlemen, give me leave to put on my magisterial - face, and to instruct you how you are to demean yourselves in the - station you are entered into, and what sort of behaviour is expected - from you, according to the oaths and these subscriptions. - - "I know very well that you go thither prepossessed with a sanguine - (but ignorant) opinion, that you are to hold fast your principles, - whatever they are; that you are to follow, what in your conscience you - think right, and to desclaim what you think wrong, that this is the - only way to thrive in the world, and to be happy in the next, just as - your silly mothers and superstitious old nurses have taught you: in - the first place, therefore, I advise you to disengage your selves from - all such scrupulous notions; for you may take my word for it, that - otherwise it is a million to one that you miscarry. - - "For, it is a maxim as true as it is common, so many men, so many - minds: but amongst all the different opinions of mankind there is - never, at any one time, but one of those opinions which is call'd - orthodox; if, therefore, you give your fancy the reins and let your - own judgment determine your opinions, what infinite odds is it, - whether you happen to hit upon that single, individual opinion, which - is, at that particular crisis of time, in vogue, and which is - therefore your interest to espouse? But if with all your diligence and - sincerity, you should miss this _rara avis_, this happy phoenix - opinion, then farewell to all your future prospects, to your ease, - your reputation and good name for ever afterwards; I mean, if you are - so weak, and so much bigotted with education, as to think it your duty - to profess what you cannot help believing. - - "Your only safe way therefore is to carry along with you consciences - _chartes blanches_, ready to receive any impression that you please to - stamp upon them; for I would not have you adopt any particular system, - however popular and prevailing it may seem to be at present, because - it may alter, and then will prove fatal to you; for as much as they - talk of steadiness and immutability of principles at Oxford, every - body knows that Popery was for many ages the orthodox religion there; - that protestantism (with much difficulty, and sorely against their - wills) succeeded it; that, not long ago, they were almost all Whigs, - and now almost all Tories, and for ought we know, will e're long be - Whigs again--never therefore explain your opinion but let your - declarations be, that you are churchmen, and that you believe as the - church believes.... - -[Illustration: COLLEGE SERVICE.] - - "I will only advise you to suppress, as much as possible, that busy - spirit of curiosity, which too often fatally exerts itself in youthful - breasts; but if (notwithstanding all your non-inquisitiveness), the - strong beams of truth will break upon your minds, let them shine - inwardly; disturb not the publick peace with your private discoveries - and illuminations; so, if you have any concern for your welfare and - prosperity, let Aristotle be your guide in philosophy, and Athanasius - in religion.... - - "To call yourself a Whig at Oxford, or to act like one, or to lie - under the suspicion of being one, is the same as to be attainted and - outlaw'd; you will be discouraged and brow beaten in your own college - and disqualified for preferment in any other; your company will be - avoided, and your character abused; you will certainly lose your - degree and at last, perhaps, upon some pretence or other, be - expelled.... - - "Leave no stone unturned to insinuate yourselves into the favour of - the Head, and senior-fellows of your respective colleges.... - - "Whenever you appear before them, conduct yourselves with all specious - humility and demureness; convince them of the great veneration you - have for their persons by speaking very low and bowing to the ground - at every word: whenever you meet them jump out of the way with your - caps in your hands and give them the whole street to walk in, let it - be as broad as it will. Always seem afraid to look them in the face, - and make them believe that their presence strikes you with a sort of - awe and confusion; but above all be very constant at chapel; never - think that you lose too much time at prayers, or that you neglect your - studies too much, whilst you are showing your respect to the church. I - have heard indeed that a former president of St John's College (a - whimsical, irreligious old fellow) would frequently jobe his students - for going constantly three or four times a day to chapel, and - lingering away their time, and robbing their parents, under a pretence - of serving God. But as this is the only instance I ever met with of - such an Head, it cannot overthrow a general rule.... Another thing - very popular in order to grow the favourites of your Heads, is first - of all to make your selves the favourites of their footmen, concerning - whose dignity and grandeur I have spoken in a former paper. You must - have often heard, my lads, of the old proverb, "Love me, and love my - Dog"; which is not very foreign in this case; for if you expect any - favour from the master, you must shew great respect to his servant. - - "Have a particular regard how you speak of those gaudy things which - flutter about Oxford in prodigious numbers, in summer-time, call'd - toasts; take care how you reflect on their parentage, their condition, - their virtue, or their beauty; ever remembering that of the poet, - - 'Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,' - - especially when they have spiritual bravoes on their side and old - lecherous bully-backs to revenge their cause on every audacious - contemner of Venus and her altars.... - - "I have but one thing more to mention to you, which is, not to give - into that foolish practice, so common at this time in the university, - of running upon tick, as it is called.... How many hopeful young men - have been ruin'd in this manner, cut short in the midst of their - philosophical enquiries, and for ever afterwards render'd unable to - pursue their studies again with a chearful heart, and without - interruption?... - - "My whole advice, in a few words, is this:-- - - "Let your own interest, abstracted from any whimsical notions of - conscience, honour, honesty or justice, be your guide; consult always - the present humour of the place and comply with it; make yourselves - popular and beloved at any rate; rant, roar, rail, drink, wh--re, - swear, unswear, forswear; do anything, do everything that you find - obliging; do nothing that is otherwise; nor let any considerations of - right and wrong flatter you out of those courses, which you find most - for your advantage. I have only to add, that if you follow this - advice, you will spend your days there not only in peace and plenty, - but with applause and reputation; if you have any secret good - qualities they will be pointed out in the most glaring light, and - aggravated in the most exquisite manner; if you have ever so many ugly - ones, they will be either palliated or jesuitically interpreted into - good ones. Whereas, on the contrary, if you despice and reject these - wholesome admonitions, violence, disrest, and an ill name will be the - rewards of your folly and obstinacy; it will avail you nothing, that - you have enrich'd your minds with all sorts of useful and commendable - knowledge; and that, as to vulgar morality, you have preserved an - unspotted character before men; these things will rather exasperate - the holy men against you, and excite all their cunning and artifice - for your destruction; the least frailties, humanity is prone to, will - be magnify'd into the grossest of all wickedness; and the best - actions, our nature is capable of, will be debased and vilified away. - And now do even as it shall seem good unto you. Farewell. - - TERRAE FILIUS." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FRESHER--(_continued_) - - Ceremony of matriculation--Paying the swearing-broker--Colman and the - Vice-Chancellor--Learning the Oxford manner--Homunculi - Togati--Academia and a mother's love--The jovial father--Underground - dog-holes and shelving garrets--The harpy and the sheets--The first - night. - - -The advice tendered to freshmen in Amhurst's amazing and bitterly -satirical letter is for those who have been matriculated. They must, -therefore, fulfil all the rites of matriculation before they can read, -mark, learn, and inwardly digest it. As the process was vastly different -in Georgian times, it is interesting to read the varying accounts of -eighteenth-century freshmen. The gentleman who, "being of age to play the -fool," came up with his parents from Hoxton, has written a somewhat -indiscreet but all the more laughable description of the ceremony. - - "The master took me first aside, - Shew'd me a scrawl, I read, and cry'd - Do Fidem. - Gravely he shook me by the fist, - And wish'd me well--we next request - a tutor. - He recommends a staunch one, who - In Perkin's cause has been his co- - adjutor - To see this precious stick of wood, - I went (for so they deem'd it good) - in fear, Sir. - And found him swallowing loyally - Six deep his bumpers which to me - seem'd queer, Sir. - He bade me sit and take my glass, - I answered, looking like an ass, - I, I can't, Sir. - Not drink!--you don't come here to pray! - The merry mortal said by way - of answer. - To pray, Sir! No--my lad, 'tis well, - Come! here's our friend Sacheverell! - here's Trappy! - Here's Ormond! Marr! in short so many - Traitors we drank, it made my Cranium nappy...." - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE THEATRE, PRINTING HOUSE &C. &C. AT OXFORD.] - -The lad then went out into the town with this same "sociable priest," -bought his gown, and parted from his parents, and then-- - - "The master said they might believe him, - So righteously (the Lord forgive him!) - he'd govern - He'd show me the extremest love, - Provided that I did not prove - too stubborn. - So far, so good--but now fresh fees - Began (for so the custom is) - Fresh fees!--with drink they knock you down, - You spoil your clothes; and your new gown - you spue in...." - -He then retired for the night, and was awakened at six o'clock next -morning by a "scoundrel" of a servitor. He rose and went to chapel, very -sick and still half drunk. Later in the day, when he had recovered -sufficiently, he went with his tutor to Broad Street, where-- - - "Built in the form of Pidgeon-pye, - A house there is for rooks to lie - and roost in. - Thither to take the oaths I went, - My tutor's conscience well content - to trust in. - Their laws, their articles of grace - Forty, I think (save half a brace), - was willing - To swear to; swore, engag'd my soul, - And paid the swearing-broker whole - ten shilling. - Full half a pound I paid him down, - To live in the most p----d town, - o' th' nation." - -It must not be understood, however, that such orgies characterised the -ceremony of matriculation. This writer of fluent doggerel was a gentleman -commoner, but he seems to have caught at every lax point that he -personally observed as a target for his wit. The more sober matriculation, -both literally and figuratively, of George Colman the younger can be most -suitably placed in the other side of the scale. "On my entrance at -Oxford," he wrote, "as a member of Christ Church, I was too foppish a -follower of the prevailing fashions to be a reverential observer of -academical dress--in truth, I was an egregious little puppy--and I was -presented to the Vice-Chancellor, to be matriculated, in a grass-green -coat, with the furiously-bepowder'd pate of an ultra-coxcomb; both of -which are proscribed by the Statutes of the University. Much courtesy is -shown, in the ceremony of matriculation, to the boys who come from Eton -and Westminster; insomuch that they are never examined in respect to their -knowledge of the School Classicks--their competency is considered as a -matter of course--but, in subscribing the articles of their matriculation -oaths, they sign their _praenomen_ in Latin; I wrote, therefore, -_Georgeius_--thus, alas! inserting a redundant E--and, after a pause, said -enquiringly to the Vice-Chancellor--looking up in his face with perfect -_naivete_--'pray, sir, am I to add Colmanus?' - -"My Terentian father, who stood at my right elbow, blush'd at my -ignorance--the Tutor (a piece of sham marble) did not blush at all--but -gave a Sardonick grin, as if _Scagliola_ had moved a muscle! - -"The good-natur'd Vice drollingly answer'd me--that the surnames of -certain _profound authors_, whose comparatively modern works were extant, -had been latinized; but that a Roman termination tack'd to the patronymick -of an English gentleman of my age and appearance, would rather be a -redundant formality. There was too much delicacy in the worthy Doctor's -satire for my green comprehension--and I walk'd back, unconscious of it, -to my College--strutting along in the pride of my unstatutable curls and -coat, and practically breaking my oath, the moment I had taken it." - -From both their accounts, differing so widely from each other, it would -seem that the ceremony of matriculation, which to-day is conducted with an -almost ecclesiastical solemnity, was in those days simply a matter of -form, a tedious business which the Vice-Chancellor hurried through with -all speed. One man performed his part in a condition of semi-intoxication -without an inkling of the meaning of the oaths to which he subscribed, -while another was presented to the Vice-Chancellor in clothes more -suitable to a fancy dress ball than to his formal admittance to the -university. Neither man drew upon himself the reprimand which to-day would -immediately be levelled at him. - -In becoming a member of the university, therefore, the eighteenth-century -freshman received his first experience of the complete inanition and -futility of the Don world. Apparently he suffered no apprehension on the -score of not conducting himself with fitting politeness when in the -presence of the authorities. Their opinion of him gave him no concern. He -was far more anxious not to contravene the unwritten laws of the -Undergraduate world. Once the tiresome but necessary matriculation became -a thing of the past, he began to look about him, anxiously at first from -the desire to avoid grievous blunders which would make him a -laughing-stock. All initiative was far too dangerous when the lynx eyes of -the entire college were upon him. Actuated by the firm belief that at -least he could not be criticised for politeness and good-breeding, the -timid freshman endeavoured to ingratiate himself in the eyes of all by -doffing his cap with humble frequence. From "Academia, or the Humours of -Oxford," the following bitter excerpt on the question of the freshman's -manners is vastly entertaining. - - "Now being arrived at his College, - The place of learning and of knowledge, - A while he'll leer about, and snivel ye, - And doff his Hat to all most civilly, - Being told at home that a shame face too, - Was a great sign that he had some Grace too, - He'll speak to none, alas! for he's - Amased at every Man he sees: - May-hap this lasts a Week, or two, - Till some Scab laugh's him on't, so - That when most you'd expect his mending, - His Breeding's ended, and not ending - Now he dares walk abroad, and dare ye, - Hat on, in peoples' Faces stare ye; - Thinks what a Fool he was before, to - Pull off his Hat, which he'd no more do; - But that the devil shites Disasters, - So that he's forc'd to cap the Masters, ... - He must cap them; but for all other, - Tho' 'twere his Father, or his Mother, - His Gran'num, Uncle, Aunt, or Cousin, - He wo' not give one Cap to a dozen." - -What wonders may be worked in a week or two! From almost servile -politeness he went to the extreme of discourtesy with the assurance of a -second-year man. - -Imitation is, however, the essence of life. Because certain things are -done, all men are compelled to do them unless they wish to incur social -ostracism. We are like sheep and must follow our leaders with docility and -readiness. If we decline to bow the neck to convention, and declare for -originality and freedom, society turns and rends us. At Oxford the -punishment for such a crime as originality is swift. A horde of outraged -seniors descends like an avalanche upon the sinner's rooms. They visit -their wrath not only upon his belongings but upon his person, and -eventually they leave him in a condition of mental and physical chaos, to -realise the utter futility of kicking against the pricks. - -In the eighteenth century the same social creed was practised. For any -transgression from the commonplace the chastisement of the culprit was -inevitable. The freshman undoubtedly realised the truth of this, however -vaguely, and conducted himself according to the rules laid down by his -seniors. His excessive good manners lasted only until the moment when it -was born in upon him that rudeness was the policy of his leaders. - -But though he might be no more than a scant fifteen years of age, as soon -as he wiped away the last tear caused by the departure of his mother, the -fresher became a Man, aggressively and consistently so. "No character," -wrote Colman, "is more jealous of the Dignity of Man (not excepting -Colonel Bath, in Fielding's Novel of Amelia), than a lad who has just -escaped from School birch to College discipline. This early Lord of the -Creation is so inflated with the importance of virility, that his -pretension to it is carefully kept up in almost every sentence he utters. -He never mentions any one of his associates but as a gentlemanly or a -pleasant man--a studious man, a dashing man, a drinking man, etc., -etc.--and the Homunculi Togati of Sixteen always talk of themselves as -Christ Church men, Trinity, St John's, Oriel, Brazen-nose men, -etc.--according to their several colleges, of which old Hens, they are the -Chickens--in short, there is no end to the colloquial manhood of these -mannikins." This passage might easily have been written to-day and not -about the middle of the eighteenth century, for the point of view of the -modern Oxford man is exactly the same as it was then. - -The parents of the old-time fresher looked at his going up and his -immediate assumption of manhood from very opposite points of view. The -mother, with regulation anxiety, conceived him to be a hardly-used, -homesick, half-starved, uncomfortable, thoroughly wretched fellow, doomed -to live in stone walls in a fever-stricken and miasmic locality. - - "Most dearly tender'd by his Mother, - Who loves him better than his brother; - So she at home a good while keeps him, - In White-broath, and Canary steeps him; - And tho' his Noddle's somewhat empty, - His Guts are stuffed with Sweet-meats plenty." - -This is how "Academia" described the mother's far-reaching apron-string -still feeling out, though some weeks cut, for her far distant son. Not so -the father! When his wife sent a servant up to Oxford with a well-stuffed -hamper for her boy and fond messages as to his health, he went down to the -servants' hall and, planting himself in front of the returned messenger, -asked "If's Son has got a Punck yet Whores he, and gets ye often drunk -yet; Being told by's Man, he took him quaffing, For joy he bursts his -sides with laughing; and prithee John (says he) and how was't--Ha, Drunk -i' the Cellar, as a Sow, wast?" - -Although the father took it for granted that his son had immediately -forgotten his home and arrived in an instant at man's estate--as far as -that permits of getting drunk--he was not always in the right. To a -certain extent the anxieties of the mother were justified, for, on -arriving at Oxford, the freshman did not always fall on a bed of clover. -In many instances he was lucky to get a bed at all in some poky little -garret with one window, through which could be obtained a minute view of -sky and stars, and which was ice-cold in winter and in summer stuffy to a -degree. However large the college there were always more men in residence -than could be properly housed. Colman said of the House, one of the -biggest colleges in Oxford, that it "was so completely cramm'd, that -shelving garrets, and even unwholesome cellars, were inhabited by young -gentlemen, in whose father's families the servants could not be less -liberally accommodated." He refers also to a fellow Westminster boy who -was "stuffed into one of these underground dog-holes." Then, too, even up -to the beginning of the nineteenth century there prevailed a system of -ragging freshers which did not tend to make them any the less homesick. -They were swindled by their scouts, and shamefully misused by their -bedmakers. - -To add to their discomfort their tutors were in many cases fast allies of -the bottle, and totally unable to render them any assistance in the matter -of finding their feet. Colman made a very illuminative reference, from his -own experience, to the scurvy tricks which the scouts and bedmakers played -upon the long-suffering fresher. "My two mercenaries," he wrote, "having -to do with a perfect greenhorn, laid in all the articles for me which I -wanted--wine, tea, sugar, coals, candles, bed and table linen--with many -useless etcetera, which they told me I wanted--charging me for everything -full half more than they had paid, and then purloining from me full half -of what they had sold." - -His scout and bedmaker had each seen fit to enter the bonds of holy -matrimony, and both brought up their better halves to assist in despoiling -the luckless greenhorn. He, however, soon lost his greenness and set about -putting his house in order--with the result that all four were turned out. -In their places, he duly installed a scout and a bedmaker who were married -to each other--a tactical move which "consolidates knavery, and reduces -your _menage_ to a couple of pilferers, instead of four." But before -Colman had found himself sufficiently to be able firmly but courteously to -dispense with their services, his bedmaker, fittingly called a harpy, -played him false most condemnably. "I was glad," he said, writing of his -first night in Oxford, "on retiring early to rest, that I might ruminate, -for five minutes, over the important events of the day, before I fell fast -asleep. I was not, then, in the habit of using a night-lamp or burning a -rush-light; so, having dropt the extinguisher upon my candle, I got into -bed; and found, to my dismay, that I was reclining in the dark upon a -surface very like that of a pond in a hard frost. The jade of a bedmaker -had spread the spick and span sheeting over the blankets, fresh from the -linen-draper's shop-unwash'd, uniron'd, unair'd, 'with all its -imperfections on its head.' Through the tedious hours of an inclement -January night, I could not close my eyes--my teeth chattered, my back -shivered--I thrust my head under the bolster, drew my knees up to my chin; -it was all useless, I could not get warm--I turned again and again, at -every turn a hand or a foot touch'd upon some new cold place; and at every -turn the chill glazy clothwork crepitated like iced buckram. God forgive -me for having execrated the authoress of my calamity! but, I verily think, -that the meekest of Christians who prays for his enemies, and for mercy -upon "all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks," would in his orisons, in -such a night of misery, make a specifick exception against his -Bedmaker!"[4] - -In these enlightened days a fresher, even, would not have left her out of -his prayers--he would have invented new ones for her especial benefit. -Poor Colman found when he rose betimes in the morning, making a virtue of -necessity, that a night of misery was not the only torment that the -ill-favoured hussy had stored up for him. For, having abluted in ice-cold -water in the hopes of refreshing himself, he found that the towel was in -an even worse state of hardness than the sheets; while at breakfast the -tablecloth was so stiff that he dreaded to sit down to his meal because he -feared to cut his shins against the edge of it. With intent, doubtless, to -add humiliation to injury, the old hag had also left his surplice in a -state of pristine unwashedness, so that "cased in this linen panoply, -which covers him from his chin to his feet, and seems to stand on end, in -emulation of a suit of armour (the certain betrayer of an academical -debutant) the Newcomer is to be heard at several yards distance, on his -way across a quadrangle, cracking and bouncing like a dry faggot upon the -fire--and he never fails to command notice, in his repeated marches to -prayer, till soap and water have silenced the noise of his arrival at -Oxford." - -The optimism of a Georgian freshman was truly amazing. The invaluable gift -of youth is undoubtedly its explanation. To be thrust suddenly into -entirely new surroundings where not only the manners and customs were -quite different from any of which he had experience before, but where it -was necessary to begin again, to readjust his outlook upon life, was a -very trying experience. It was one which men of greater maturity would -hesitate to undergo. And yet here was this man, a mere lad of fifteen or -sixteen, gladly entering a new world with a vague notion of the things -which would be expected of him or of the things to expect. Without a -twinge of nervousness he signed his name to long-winded oaths, and -unconsciously perjured himself five minutes later. Everywhere he saw -strange faces, met with new and incomprehensible experiences, and found -himself doing the wrong thing. With undaunted cheerfulness, however, he -allowed Oxford to treat him as she chose, to mould him to her own liking, -to pull him this way and that, until eventually, with an increased -optimism, his schoolboy corners were rounded off, and he became one with -Oxford. It was his very lack of experience which enabled him to go through -such a difficult time without flinching. He did not realise the tremendous -forces at work upon him. He was, in fact, like a seed put into earth. -After the rain, the sun, the wind, and all the forces of Nature have been -brought to bear upon it, slowly and irresistibly it shoots up and becomes -at last a flower. The Oxford freshman burst forth into blossom at the end -of his first year in the same helpless way. He was quite unable to tell by -what steps his development had been brought about, and was perfectly -content to go through his whole university career in the same blind way. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE SMART - - Valentine Frippery and his letter--Boiled chicken and - pettitoes--Lyne's coffee-house and the _billet-doux_--Tick--Liquor - capacity--A Smart advises _The Student_--Latin odes for tradesmen - only. - - -One of the most interesting things to study at the university is the way -in which a man gets into a certain set. Let me take for example a group of -freshmen who come from the same public school, who have played together in -the school games, possibly invited each other home for the holidays. Their -tastes and ideas are apparently the same. On coming up to Oxford each man -is differently affected. For the first few weeks they meet in one -another's rooms and discuss their impressions freely and without any -reserve. Then suddenly, after the manner of mushrooms which spring up in a -single night, it is found that one of them has got into the racing set -which despises everybody who does not ride a horse; another into the -working set, which lives, eats, and sleeps with its books; a third into -the religious set, which in a quiet, unostentatious manner goes out of its -way to help the poor, attends frequent religious meetings and, -unfortunately and quite undeservedly, is somewhat scorned by the rest of -the college; a fourth has got into the smart set, and has become a -"blood"; and others into the thousand and one little groups which go to -the composition of a university. - -This curious sudden upheaval of ideas and habits which is brought about in -one short term is to be found in every college every year, just as it -appertained in the eighteenth century. I have shown the way in which some -of these freshmen came to feel ashamed of their clothes and crept into -the back entrances of barber's and tailor's shops, while their friends -remained perfectly satisfied with their appearance, and jogged along -without any desire for silks and satins. - -The Georgian "blood," however, was a person of tantamount importance. It -was he who provided the university with food for mirth, envy, satire, -recrimination. In a previous chapter I quoted Amhurst's description of how -a Smart might be distinguished when he sauntered along, languidly twirling -his clouded amber cane and smelling philosophically of essence. His main -objects in life were apparently to avoid the accusation of being -ill-mannered, to consume daily as much liquor as possible, to be ardent in -singing the praises of the latest toast, and to expend in finery far more -money than he possessed. He thought himself to be a model of culture and -was, in fact, the man of the period who put on the most "side." - -Amhurst, with an editorial genius that was without parallel in those -times, wrote an attack on the good manners of Undergraduates in order that -he might criticise, or better, satirise, that "large body of fine -gentlemen call'd Smarts." Under the name of Valentine Frippery he answered -his own attack with a bitter reply, taking up the cudgels stoutly on -behalf of the attackees, and wound up his article by riddling all men of -the Frippery type. - -[Illustration: BUCKS OF THE FIRST HEAD.] - -Allowing that Terrae Filius was ever a caricaturist, and that all his -tirades and jibes must be taken cum _grano salts_, nevertheless the -picture he draws of the Bucks of the first head is a very true one. -"Valentine Frippery" wrote in answer to the accusation of ill-breeding as -follows:-- - - "_To Terrae Filius._ - - "_Christ Church College, July 1._ - - "MR PRATE-APACE.--Amongst all the vile trash and ribaldry with which - you have lately poisoned the publick, nothing is more scandalous - and saucy than your charging our university with the want of - civility and good manners. Let me tell you, Sir, for all your haste, - we have as well-bred, accomplish'd gentlemen in Oxford, as any where - in Christendom; men that dress as well, sing as well, dance as well, - and behave in every respect as well, though I say it, as any man under - the sun. You are the first audacious Wit-wou'd that ever call'd Oxford - a boorish, uncivilised place: And demme, Sir, you ought to be hors'd - out of all good company for an impudent praggish Jackanapes. Oxford a - boorish place! poor wretch! I am sorry for thy ignorance. Who wears - finer lace, or better linnen than Jack Flutter? who has handsomer - tie-wigs or more fashionable cloaths or cuts a bolder dash than Tom - Paroquet? Where can you find a more handy man at a tea-table than - Robin Tattle? Or, without vanity I may say it, one that plays better - at Ombre than him, who subscribes himself an enemy to all such pimps - as thou art?" - -Such are the arguments he brought up against a charge of bad manners: -singing, dancing, handy at a tea-table, wearing the best lace and linen -and cutting a bold dash. The perfect gentleman indeed! The acme of -culture! He, with all the others of his kidney, put in an appearance at -Lyne's coffee-house in academical undress somewhere about eleven -o'clock--that is to say, immediately after a gentle dalliance with -breakfast. Here he discussed the topics of the hour, heard the latest -news, enjoyed the latest scandals, and then strolled in the Park or under -Merton wall. Those who made no pretensions to "Smartness" were meanwhile -dining in Hall--a thing far beneath the dignity of a Buck of the first -head who ate in solitary dignity in his own chamber, his meal consisting, -for example, of "boil'd chicken and pettitoes." After resting awhile, he -spent an hour or so in overcoming the difficulties of dressing. That -satisfactorily concluded, it was his bounden duty to make an afternoon -appearance at Lyne's. About five o'clock he dropped in at Hamilton's, -where he "struts about the room for a while and drinks a dram of citron." -Thence he returned to college and adjourned to the chapel "to shew how -genteely he dresses, and how well he can chaunt." Having given conclusive -demonstrations of these two accomplishments, he drank tea with some -celebrated toast and attended her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Such a ridiculous idea as work never entered his head. Any -time he might give to reading was employed in the study of novels and -romances. - -As an example of his passion for cleanliness at all costs, Terrae Filius -gave an account of an adventure of one of these gentry at Lyne's -coffee-house. "This afternoon, a noted Smart of Christ Church College, as -he was writing a _billet-doux_ had the misfortune to blot one of his -ruffles with a spot of ink, which put the gentleman in so great a -disorder, that he threw the standish through the window, stamped about the -room for half an hour together, and was often heard to say, I wonder that -gentlemen cannot find some cleaner method of conveying their thoughts, and -that he wished he might be blown up wherever he went, if he ever made use -of that filthy liquor again, though the displeasure of the whole fair sex -was the consequence. Let prigs and pedants, said he, keep all the nasty -manufacture to themselves." - -It is comforting to be assured that this elaborate sect was not entirely -composed of peers and gentleman commoners, for their street behaviour was -far worse than anything that even the most hypercritical Somerville -blue-stocking can accuse Undergraduates of to-day. "They cannot forbear -laughing," said Amhurst, "at every body that obeys the statutes, and -differs from them; or (as my correspondent expresses it in the proper -dialect of the place) that does not cut as bold a dash as they do. They -have singly, for the most part, very good assurances; but when they walk -together in bodies (as they often do), how impregnable are their -foreheads? They point at every foul they meet, laugh very loud, and -whisper as loud as they laugh. Demme, Jack, there goes a prig! Let us blow -the puppy up. Upon which they all stare him full in the face, turn him -from the wall as he passes by, and set up an horse laugh, which puts the -plain raw novice out of countenance, and occasions great triumph amongst -these tawdry desperadoes." - -Like all hooligans they were thorough cowards unless backed up by vastly -superior numbers. It took about twenty of them, and that with the -assistance of Dutch courage, to frighten some three or four foreigners and -to kick a Presbyterian parson out of a coffee-house. They were for the -most part sons of country farmers with practically no money who got into -the Smart set immediately after coming up, and who remained Smarts just so -long as the "mercers, taylors, shoe makers, and perriwig-makers will tick -with them." Tradesmen of that day were apparently possessed of far longer -patience than most of the present generation. To-day they despatch -solicitor's letters after two terms. Then they allowed a bill to lie -fallow (with the usual accretion of interest) for three or four years. - -With his usual quaint humour Amhurst declared that he has seen these same -Smarts two or three years afterwards "in gowns and cassocks, walking with -demure looks and an holy leer; so easy is the transition from dancing to -preaching, and from the bowling-green to the pulpit." - -The Rev. Richard Graves, a Pembroke man, in 1732, related that he became -friends with a genial crowd who passed their evenings in drinking strong -ale, smoking like chimneys, punning, and singing Bacchanalian catches. -Some gentlemen commoners, however, Smarts, who came from the same part of -the country as Graves, rescued him from the ill-bred hands of such low -company--so considered chiefly on account of the liquor they drank. In his -own words "they good-naturedly invited me to their party: they treated me -with port wine and arrack-punch; and then, when they had drunk so much, as -hardly to distinguish wine from water, they would conclude with a bottle -or two of claret. They kept late hours and drank their favourite toasts on -their knees. This was deemed good company and high life; but it neither -suited my taste, my fortune, or my constitution." - -Night after night of this deep drinking made the fortunes of the -spirit-merchants, but left some of the drinkers soddened and useless. I -may quote, as an instance, the case of Lord Lovelace. - -It is a well-known fact that the Principal of his Hall reported, and that -truthfully, that "he never knew him sober but twelve hours and that he -used every morning to drink a quart of brandy, or something equivalent to -it, to his own share." Hearne, too, in his diary makes reference to a -commoner of Magdalen Hall, a son of Dr Inett, who was found dead from -drinking ale and brandy. There were three companions with him, but they -were merely asleep under the table. Professor Pryme, who was up at the end -of the eighteenth century, afterwards wrote that when Hall was over it was -the fashion to collect a large party together to drink wine with a little -dessert. "The host," he said, "named a Vice-President, and toasts were -given. First a lady by each of the party, then a gentleman, and then a -sentiment. I remember one of these latter, the single married and the -married happy. Every one was required to fill a bumper to the toasts of -the President, the Vice-President, and his own. If any one wished to go to -chapel he was pressed to return afterwards."[5] - -The fact, however, that toping constituted such an important feature of -Undergraduate life, among Smarts and non-Smarts equally is not a matter -for vast amazement, or stern condemnation. _Quis custodiet ipsos -custodes?_--for the Dons were if anything even worse than those to whom -they stood in _loco parentis_. The whole world of Dons, from the humblest -and most juvenile Fellow to the king of kings, the Head of a college or -Hall, cultivated the vice of drink as assiduously as if it were a virtue. -Oxford was not so far away from London as not to reflect the manners and -habits of the capital, and since to the Bucks of London abnormal drinking -was then the highest good form, it is not to be wondered at that the -Undergraduates, ever of tender years and advanced imitative faculties, -should give a brilliant reflection of the metropolis. - -Amhurst has pointed out that the Smarts never read anything but plays, -novels, and French comedies. When _The Student_ appeared, however, they -took it up more or less whole-heartedly. In these days of photographic -(that being the polite way of spelling pornographic) weeklies, a new -venture in 'varsity journals is greeted as a nine days' wonder. However -good the contents provided, the Oxford man prefers to look upon the -fetching features--and limbs, of footlight favourites in papers provided -free of charge in the Junior Common Room. Consequently the rash starter of -a "'varsity rag" is compelled to retire from the lists after the first two -or three issues. In the old days, however, even the _blase_ Smart had some -initiative left to him in matters of literature. He supported the new -paper with enthusiasm and read every number carefully. After some time he -found that the editor was catering too freely for the Dons. Instead, -however, of discontinuing his subscription he wrote to the editor and -appealed on the grounds that _The Student_ was becoming too prosy and -_Spectator_-like, and urged him to keep it lighter in tone. The following -is an extract from the letter sent in:-- - - "----'S COFFEE-HOUSE, _May 4_. - - "BROTHER STUDENT,--Without a compliment I am much pleased with your - scheme, and heartily wish you success. Hitherto I think you bid fair - for it, and seem to meet with general applause. But will you forgive - my offering a word or two of advice? Let us have no more of your - abstract speculations, as you call them; indeed they are not popular. - Last night, in a full assembly of pretty fellows at this place (all - your admirers), Billy Languish read your fourth number. We all agreed - that your 'Impudence' is inimitable, but your 'letter in defence of - religion,' tho' it did not startle us (as you apprehended it would) - somewhat amazed us, I must own. Consider, Mr Student, you write for - the publick of which three fourths are ignoramuses, and therefor, tho' - we may allow you now and then in compliment to your taylor and mercer - and other learned folks, to insert a Latin ode or epigram, yet I must - needs tell you, that we don't relish your metaphysics. For which - reason I am directed by all the Smarts at ----'s, to acquaint you, - that we expect (especially if it be English), at least to understand - what we read. We consider your book as a monthly feast or - entertainment; and if we pay our ordinary, 'tis but reasonable the - dishes you set before us should be such as we are able to taste. We - cannot indeed always expect rarities, and may now and then admit of a - trifle or puff by way of make up; but prithee don't surfeit us with - ambigu's and inconnu's. At the same time I must tell you, that we are - much pleased with your last Sapphic, that we reverence Tony Alsop's - memory, and have resolv'd one and all to subscribe to his works. Billy - Languish and Dick Dimple indeed say, the 'verses on the grotto' are - better; and Dick (who you know is a wit as well as a beau) gave us - off hand a translation of them, but I have indeed since found out - where he borrows it.--I am yours, - - HARRY DIDAPPER." - -The _habitues_ of the unknown coffee-house, all pretty fellows, looked -upon _The Student_ as a "monthly feast of entertainment!" For all their -soaking and "wenching" and slacking they would seem to have had a certain -amount of brain and appreciative capability left to them. - -In a subsequent chapter I shall set down the methods by which these men -obtained their degrees after having spent some six or seven years inside -the old walls of the university. They had as little time for work as the -"bloods" of to-day whose every moment is claimed by matters of far greater -moment than mere study! To a certain extent the Smarts, though they -perhaps did not know it, were philosophers. They said to themselves that -life was short and youth shorter still, that therefore it behoved them to -cram in to the six years of their university career as much pleasure, -excitement, and amusement as was possible. The eighteenth century lent -itself whole-heartedly to this programme. The Dons, who should have been -intent on governing Oxford, had other game afoot. The Undergraduates were -thus left to their own devices, and the Smarts were the first to take -advantage of such Arcadian conditions. They delayed the hour of rising -until the sun grew weary of calling them out. There was no stern shepherd -to round them into chapel at the ungodly hour of eight o'clock. Like -butterflies they flitted from place to place at the caprice of the moment. -They held Bacchanalian revels in and out of college without regard to Dons -and statutes. Their paramours, far from being ejected from the city, were -shared with the authorities, thus proving that they had a better -understanding of real socialism than the exponents of to-day. The same -cobbled streets that hear us shouting our way home in the small hours, saw -the Georgian men staggering along with tight-linked arms in the silvery -moonlight, while Big Tom boomed out the birth of a new day. - -As year after year slipped relentlessly off the calender they absorbed the -unique atmosphere of Oxford, fully appreciating under their mask of -_blase_ scorn the traditions and the unforgettable charm of _Alma mater_. -They carried their love and reverence for her to the grave, and gave proof -of it by sending their sons and grandsons to swell the never-ending -procession of men who sing the praises of Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE TOAST - - Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne - comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven--The President - under her thumb--Amhurst's table of cons.--King Charles and the other - place. - - -What is an Oxford toast? For answer I cannot do better than turn to that -Oxford _Encyclopaedia_, Terrae Filius, who from the ambush of his -anonymity, directed his fire upon all toasts with unerring aim and deadly -effect. - -"She is born, as the King says, of mean estate, being the daughter of some -insolent mechanick, who fancies himself a gentleman and resolves to keep -up his family by marrying his girl to a parson or a schoolmaster; to which -end, he and his wife call her pretty miss, as soon as she knows what it -means, and sends her to the dancing school to learn how to hold up her -head, and turn out her toes; she is taught from a child not to play with -any of the dirty boys and girls in the neighbourhood; but to mind her -dancing, and have a great respect for the gown. This foundation being -laid, she goes on fast enough of herself, without any farther assistance, -except an hoop, a gay suit of cloaths, and two or three new holland -smocks. Thus equipt, she frequents all the balls and publick walks in -Oxford; where it is a great chance if she does not, in time, meet with -some raw coxcomb or other, who is her humble servant; waits upon her home, -calls upon her again the next day; dangles after her from place to place; -and is at last, with some art and management, drawn in to marry her. - - "She has impudence--therefore she has wit; - She is proud--therefore she is well bred; - She has fine Cloaths--therefore she is genteel; - She would fain be a wife-and therefore she is not a Wh--re." - -Amhurst also informed his readers that they appeared principally in -summer, like butterflies, when they flitted from flower to flower of the -Smarts under Merton Wall. "The toasts," he remarked, "are scouring up and -new-trimming their best gowns and petticoats against the summer, and -intend to make a splendid appearance." These ladies were an extremely -conspicuous feature of Undergraduate life. In the description of the -Smart's day we are told how after chapel he drank tea with some celebrated -toast, and then waited upon her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and -back again. Afterwards, when drowning his sorrows at the particular -establishment in vogue at the time, the Smart exhausted himself in his -efforts to dash off a sonnet to her eyelashes or a rhapsody in praise of -her tip-tilted nose. He drank her health upon his knees, tossing off a -non-heeltaps to every letter of her name. His day was considered wasted -unless he were seen in all his delicate apparel in company with the -acknowledged reigning queen among toasts. - -One lady, by name of Flavia, kept an orange tree growing in the window of -her bed-chamber. This inspired a burst of classic poetry from a Buck who -saw and envied it. In one of the volumes of Terrae Filius a most amusing -story was related which shows what influence these toasts exercised upon -the Undergraduates. She, too, answered to the name of Flavia--whether she -were one and the same as the horticultural lady it is impossible to say. A -"promising lad" came up and was recognised by his master--of whom he was -"a very favourite"--to be a "diligent and ingenious scholar." - -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE FIRST QUADRANGLE.] - -That character he maintained for some time, keeping to his chamber and his -books, with sported oak, and not concerning himself with the vagaries of -fashion; "indeed the poor young fellow did not dress smart; nay, often was -really dirty." Gradually he made the acquaintance of some noted Bucks and -sought their society and conversation out of curiosity. But they -continually ragged him about his shabby appearance. "Dick!" said they, -"prithee let's burn this damned brown wig of thine; get thee a little more -linnen." The lad for a time was obdurate, but at last put forward in -excuse that "this alteration of himself would make him be taken too much -notice of, and, it may be, his new dress might sit so awkward, that he -would become the jest of his acquaintance." This was a set-back to the -friends, but they came to the cunning conclusion that he might be tricked -into it. So they buttonholed him. "Dick," said one, "did you never see -Miss Flavia, one of our top toasts?" "No," quoth he, "unless at her -window." "Well, faith," said the friend, "to be plain, she likes you, I -myself heard her say in public company, I have been shew'd Mr Such-a-one -several times; everybody says he's a man of fire; it is a thousand pities -he's such a sloven." Dick was finished. He went home obsessed with the -idea, flung his wig into the fire, forgot his studies entirely and swore -to see Flavia the very next day. His friends spread a rumour abroad that -he had come into money, and his tradesmen gave him unlimited credit. -Accordingly he was decked out, in ruffles and all the other paraphernalia, -and from that day worshipped at the lady's shrine. In these days such fair -Flavias would in all probability be found pulling beer in a public-house, -totally devoid of H's, but none the less popular among a certain set. -To-day they can be treated with a certain amount of Undergraduate levity, -but in the eighteenth century it behoved the contumelious to walk -delicately and to be very careful. Amhurst hoisted the danger signal when -he related that "not long ago, a bitter lampoon was published upon the -most celebrated of these petticoat-professors, as soon as it came out the -town was in an uproar, and a very severe sentence was passed upon the -author of this anonymous libel; to discover whom no pains were spared; all -the disgusted, ill-natured fellows in the university were, one after -another, suspected upon this occasion. At last, I know not how, it was -peremptorily fixed upon one; whether justly, or not, I cannot say; but the -parties offended resolved to make an example of somebody for such an -enormous crime, and one of them (more enraged than the rest) was heard to -declare 'that, right or wrong, that impudent scoundrel (mentioning his -name) should be expelled, by G--d; and that she had interest enough with -the president and senior fellows of his college to get his business -done.'" And the scandalous part of the business was that the president and -senior fellows who had evidently had relations with the woman in question -were such cowards as to yield to her demands, which probably took the form -of threats of exposure against themselves, and sent the unoffending man -down for good. - -In his character of general reformer Terrae Filius felt himself compelled, -however reluctantly, to "draw his pen against womenkind"--the womenkind of -Oxford. His apology for so doing was that "I shall have the misfortunes of -numberless young men to answer for, if I conceal anything which may be for -their advantage, or spare any abuses in the universities, though committed -by the fairest offenders." - -After a disquisition on love, which he described as "a most arbitrary -passion," which "engrosses the whole man ... and grumbles at its own -poverty and searches after new acquisitions," he continued "conscious of -this truth, our wise forefathers took all possible care to purge the seats -of learning of these shining temptations, these dangerous decoys of youth; -but as all their prudence and precaution could not do this entirely, they -made a statute, 'prohibiting all scholars, as well as Graduates or -Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to frequent the houses and shops of -any townsmen by day, and especially by night; but more especially houses, -which harbour or receive infamous or suspected women, with whom all -scholars are strictly forbid to keep company, either in their own private -chambers, or at the houses of any townsmen.' I suppose it will be objected -by the Smarts, or others, that this statute extends only to common -prostitutes or night-walkers, and not to those divine creatures dignified -by the name of toasts; but I think that it includes all suspected women, -and especially the toasts, for the following reasons:-- - -"1. Because it was not the only design of the statute to restrain the -scholars from debauchery (from which, I hope, they need no forcible -restraint!) but to prevent them also from neglecting their studies, and -entering into scandalous marriages; of which they are in no danger from -common strumpets and mercenary street-walkers. - -"2. Because there was no occasion for a statute against common whores, any -more than against house-breakers and pickpockets, which are all punishable -by the laws of the land. - -"3. Because I have a better opinion of the townsmen of Oxford (who are, -many of them, matriculated men), than to believe that they would entertain -in their houses such filthy drabs; though it is probable enough that they -would marry their daughters to advantage if they could; in which I can see -no great harm on their parts. - -"4. Because I have a better opinion of the scholars too, than to believe -that they would keep company with such cattle; and I think it is a scandal -to the university to stand in need of a statute, which supposes that any -of her hopeful children are addicted to such beastliness." - -Amhurst's reasons are logical enough to convince the meanest intelligence -of the true nature of the Oxford toasts. In support of them he brings up -no less a second than King Charles I., who wrote officially and at some -length on the question of university government to the Vice-Chancellor and -Heads of Cambridge commanding the suppression of women such as those in -question. The reason why the good King did not treat Oxford to a similar -injunction is, supposedly, that the need for it did not reach the royal -ears. It is hinted more than once, too, in the pages of Terrae Filius that -the Dons themselves entertained feelings of sympathy towards the toasts, -and shielded them from royal visitations by intentionally keeping things -quiet. Judging from the character of the Dons in the eighteenth century it -is highly probable that such was indeed the case. - -"Happy is it," says Amhurst, "for the present generation of Oxford toasts, -that King Charles I. (so much unlike that accomplished gentleman, his son) -was long ago laid in the dust! Were that rigid King now alive, my mind -misgives me strangely, that I should see an end of all the balls and -cabals, and junketings at Oxford; that several of our most celebrated and -beautiful madams would pluck off their fine feathers, and betake -themselves to an honest livelihood; or make their personal appearance -before the lords of his majesty's privy council, to answer their contempt, -and such other matters as should be objected against them." - -Unmourned and besmirched the last of the Oxford toasts has long since -passed beyond the judgment of man. The Dons were in all too many cases the -cause of sending recruits to the ranks of the oldest profession in the -world. Heads of colleges, reverend clerics, and holders of Fellowships -must all answer to the charge of "wenching." - -[Illustration: A VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN.] - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -The Servitor - - The germ of Ruskin Hall--Description of himself--George - Whitefield--College exercises--Running errands and copying - lines--Samuel Wesley--Famous servitors. - - -In the year of grace nineteen hundred and eleven there are three main -divisions of the genus Undergraduate:--scholars, commoners, and "toshers," -the last sometimes known as non-collegiate Undergraduates. Under a fourth -heading, which constitutes a small subdivision all by itself, I may place -the working-men Undergraduates--the members of Ruskin Hall. Georgian -Undergraduates might also be split up into parallel divisions. There were -also servitors, who were, in some sort, the ancient form of the -working-men Undergraduates of the twentieth century. - -Oxford in Georgian times was, according to the popular conception, a place -where peers and rich men sent their sons in order that they might receive -a better education than anywhere else in the world. The erudition, -classical learning, and brilliance of the Dons passed all belief. Nowhere -on earth was there gathered together a body of men with such knowledge and -brain power. Did any man yearn for instruction in any subject, Oxford was -the only place where that subject was exhaustively known and thoroughly -taught. - -It naturally followed, therefore, that the lower classes, who drudged all -day in the effort to keep body and soul together, and provide the -wherewithal to fill the stomachs of their hungry progeny, left Oxford -outside their calculations when discussing the prospective education of -their children. Oxford was a place for rich men. How, then, could their -sons go there? It was impossible. Meanwhile, the children were clamouring -for education. What was to be done? - -Through the influence of rich men who had been to the university the -penniless lads were taken from the plough and entered into colleges as -errand boys and odd-job hands. They were at liberty to pick up what -education they could in the intervals of performing menial tasks for the -gentlemen commoners. They cleaned boots, fetched and carried, and were the -servants of anybody who chose to order them about. Having no money they -slept in coal-holes, cupboards under the stairs, and attics under the -eaves, and satisfied the pangs of hunger by picking up the crumbs which -fell from the rich men's tables. They had no social intercourse with the -gentlemen commoners, and were treated with scant courtesy by the college -servants. - -The resemblance between the servitor and the Ruskin Hall man is apparent -when due allowance has been made for modern improvements. The modern -conception of Oxford is curiously akin to that of the eighteenth century. -The education to be received still has a very high reputation. The present -day working classes, however, possess a greater ambition than their -antecedents showed. They are no longer content to snatch education in the -intervals of earning their keep. Ruskin Hall has been built for their -especial benefit. There they may win scholarships to their heart's -content. Their kinship with the humble servitor lies in the fact that they -do their own menial work instead of having to do it for others; that they -have no social intercourse with the Undergraduates of other colleges -except at the weekly debates of the Union Society in which they -distinguish themselves by their fluent Socialistic doctrines; and that -they take no part in the athletic and collegiate life of the university. - -One of the earliest references to servitors in the eighteenth century -records is contained in a comedy entitled "An Act at Oxford." The play was -written in 1704 by a dramatist named Baker. - -One of the characters was a servitor named Chum. His father was a -chimney-sweep and his mother a poor ginger-bread seller at Cow Cross. Chum -was established in Brazen-Nose College, and his duties consisted in -waiting "upon Gentleman-Commoners, to dress and clean their shoes and make -out their exercises." His "fortune," which was "soon told," consisted -apparently of "two Raggs call'd shirts, a dog's eared Grammer, and a piece -of _Ovid de Tristibus_." For having materially assisted his master, a -Smart, to win the hand and heart of a fair damsel known as Berynthia, he -was rewarded, in the play, with the sum of five hundred guineas--an -occurrence which would be the height of improbability in real life, as the -servitor was jeered at and made a kind of Aunt Sally by all and sundry. - -In 1709 one of those poor miserable wretches sat him down--where he -procured pen and paper is still shrouded in mystery--and wrote a poem on -his own doleful condition. Its title is "Servitour," and it was printed by -"H. Hills in Black-Fryars, near the water side." He pictured himself to be -coming out of a Skittle Yard in his "rusty round cap." - - "Like Cheesy Pouch of Shon-ap-Shenkin, - His Sandy locks, with wide Hiatus, - Like Bristles seem'd Erected at us, - Clotted with Sweat, the Ends hung down; - And made Resplendent Cape of Gown; - Whose Cape was thin, and so Transparent, - Hold it t' th' Light, you'd scarce beware on't - 'Twixt Chin and Breast contiguous Band, - Hung in an Obtuse Angle and-- - It had a Latitude Canonick, - His coat so greasy was and torn, - That had you seen it you'd ha' sworn - 'Twas Ten Years old when he was born. - His buttons fringed as is the Fashion, - In Gallick and Brittanick Nation; - Or, to speak like more Modern fellows, - Their moulds dropt out like ripe Brown-shellers. - His Leather Galligaskin's rent, - Made Artless Music as he went.... - His Holey Stockins were ty'd up, - One with a Band, one with a Rope." - -In such clothes as these, the extreme poverty of which would bring a blush -to the cheek of the modern Oxford paper-boy, this gloomy poet had to go to -the Buttery and procure game and capons, ribs of beef, and other succulent -dainties for some gentleman commoner's dinner, while for himself there was -nothing but "Poor scraps and Cold as I'm a sinner." As a place to lay his -head o' nights, he was thankful to get a lumber-room in the apex of the -building, somewhere under the eaves, - - "A Room with Dirt and Cobwebs lin'd, - Which here and there with Spittle Shin'd; - Inhabited let's see--by Four; - If I mistake not, 'twas no more. - Two buggy beds.... - Their Dormer windows with brown paper, - Was patch'd to keep out Northern Vapour. - The Table's broken foot stood on, - An old Schrevelious Lexicon, - Here lay together Authors various, - From Homer's _Iliad_, to Cordelius: - And so abus'd was Aristotle, - He only served to stop a bottle.... - Where eke stood Glass, Dark-Lanthorns ancient - Fragment of Mirerr, Penknife, Trencher, - And forty things which I can't mention. - Old Chairs and Stools, and such-like Lumber, - Compleatly furnisht out the Chamber." - -George Whitefield, a servitor at Pembroke in 1732, also shared his rooms -with others. His companions, however, did not appear to have suffered -unduly from the usual depression caused by their hard lot, for they -frequently invited Whitefield to join them "in their excess of riot," and -looked upon him as a weird and extraordinary creature for his persistent -refusals. His account of the manner of his admission to Pembroke College -is characteristic of the man, and gives an idea of what tasks servitors -were called upon to perform. - -"Being now near eighteen years old, it was judged proper for me to go to -the university. God had sweetly prepared my way. The friends before -applied to, recommended me to the Master of Pembroke College. Another -friend took up ten pounds upon bond (which I have since repaid), to defray -the first expence of entring; and the Master, contrary to all -expectations, admitted me servitor immediately. - -"Soon after my admission I went and resided, and found my having been used -to a publick-house was now of service to me. For many of the servitors -being sick at my first coming up, by diligent and ready attendance I -ingratiated myself into the gentlemen's favour so far, that many, who had -it in their power, chose me to be their servitor. - -"This much lessened my expence; and indeed, God was so gracious, that, -with the profits of my place, and some presents made me by my kind tutor, -for almost the first three years I did not put all my relations together -to above L24 expence. - -"And it has often grieved my soul to see so many young students spending -their substance in extravagant living, and thereby entirely unfitting -themselves for the prosecution of their proper studies." - -Because he became a Methodist and attended seriously to his religious -duties, Whitefield was badly ragged. The fact that a servitor should make -any claims to superior godliness made his employers, for some reason, -acutely annoyed. "I daily underwent some contempt at college," he wrote, -"some have thrown dirt at me; others, by degrees, took away their pay from -me; and two friends that were dear unto me, grew shy of, and forsook me." - -One of his lay duties as servitor consisted in going round to the -gentlemen's rooms at ten o'clock at night and knocking to find out who was -in--the majority of them being at that hour, doubtless, discussing punch -and claret in the Mitre or Tuns. All those who made no answer to his knock -were reported and received punishment for being out of college after -hours. - -Of his college exercises he wrote as follows:-- - -"Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme, I had no power to write a -word nor so much as tell my Christian friends of my inability to do it. -Saturday being come (which is the day the students give up their -compositions), it was suggested to me that I must go down into the Hall -and confess I could not make a theme, and so publickly suffer, as if it -were for my Master's sake. When the bell rung to call us, I went to open -the door to go downstairs, but feeling something give me a violent inward -check, I entered my study, and continued instant in prayer, waiting the -event. For this my tutor fined me half a crown. The next week Satan served -me in like manner again; but having now got more strength, and perceiving -no inward check, I went into the Hall. My name being call'd, I stood up, -and told my tutor I could not make a theme. I think he fined me a second -time; but, imagining that I would not willingly neglect my exercise, he -afterwards called me into the common room, and kindly enquired whether any -misfortune had befallen me, or what was the reason I could not make a -theme? I burst into tears, and assured him that it was not out of contempt -of authority, but that I could not act otherwise. Then, at length, he -said he believed I could not; and, when he left me, told a friend (as he -very well might), that he took me to be really mad." - -Besides cleaning boots, fetching and carrying, running errands and -performing other menial services of a like nature, the servitors jumped at -the opportunity of earning odd pence by writing out the impositions to -which their masters had been condemned by the Proctors. - - "For should grave Proctor chance to meet - A buck in boots along the street - He stops his course and with permission - Asking his name, sets imposition, - Which to get done, if he's a ninny - He gives his barber half a guinea. - This useful go-between will share it - With servitor in college garret, - Who counts these labours sweet as honey - Which brings to purse some pocket money."[6] - -Other methods of pocket filling to which servitors had recourse were -mentioned by Dr Johnson, who, writing to Tom Warton concerning the delay -in a work on Spenser caused by the number of his correspondents and pupils -at Oxford, said: "Three hours a day stolen from sleep and amusement will -produce it. Let a servitor transcribe the quotations, and interleave them -with references to save time." As, however, servitors were not admitted -within the sacred precincts of the Bodleian, transcription was necessarily -limited. This was a cause of great lamentation and outcry at the time from -the men, because they were compelled to do the work themselves, and from -the servitors because they were thus deprived of a means of earning a few -extra necessary pence. "Dr Hyde complains," says Wordsworth in his book on -the eighteenth century, "that some in the university have been very -troublesome in pressing that their servitors may transcribe manuscripts -for them, though not capable of being sworn to the Library." - -[Illustration: VIEW OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE.] - -For a commoner to be seen in public in the company of a servitor was a -"great disparagement." Consequently, if a servitor was sufficiently -blessed to be able to call a commoner friend, he must needs visit him -secretly, or under cover of darkness. It is on record that Shenstone, who -was a commoner of Pembroke, visited Jago a servitor, a friend of his, in -strict private because of this popular prejudice. When Erasmus was at -Queen's his servitor's rooms were immediately above his own. The poor -wretch, besides being at his master's beck and call, was very often the -slave of his master's mistress--an employ of vast uneasiness and -discomfort. - -In the _Oxford Chronicle_ in 1859, in a series of articles entitled -"Oxford during the Last Century," Aubrey describes Willis, the servitor of -Dr Iles, Canon of Christ Church, as studying in his blue livery cloak at -the lower end of the hall by the door, and assisting his master's wife in -mixing drugs. - -As a parallel case to that of Whitefield, who was a drawer in the Bell -Inn, Gloucester, Hearne tells "of one Lyne, son of a clergyman, and -grandson of the Town Clerk of Oxford, who was drawer at the King's Head -Tavern of that city, in 1735; his elder brother being Fellow of Emmanuel, -and his younger an eminent scholar of King's." - -It was no exaggeration to say that the servitors lived on the scraps from -the Undergraduates' tables. The following quotation shows the grinding -penury against which they had to struggle: "Of the poverty of the class," -wrote J. R. Green in his wonderful "Oxford Studies," "no better instance -can be found than Samuel Wesley, the father of the Wesleys who were to -change the whole state of religion in England, and himself a very stirring -person, to whom we shall have occasion subsequently to allude. He was the -son of an ejected and starving non-conformist minister, and when at the -age of sixteen he walked to Oxford and entered himself as a servitor at -Exeter, his whole worldly wealth amounted to no more than L2, 16s. Yet -after supporting himself during his whole university career without any -aid from his friends, save a trivial 5s., he set off to London to make a -plunge into life with a capital increased to L10, 15s. Five shillings, -however, sneer as we may, seem to have been no uncommon 'allowance' to a -servitor of the time."[7] - -These poor servitors did not feel any touch of shame or degradation at -having to clean boots and perform all the other dirty work of the place. -Why should they? Their poverty at Oxford was in no way different from that -in which they lived previously to their arrival at Oxford. It was merely a -change in locality. For they came, as has been shown, from plough and -public-house. - -There are many instances to show to what great use some of them put the -education which they managed to acquire during their servitorship. Sir -John Birkenhead was a servitor at Oriel, and during that period of his -afterwards noteworthy career, his brother was a trooper. It was only -through the kindheartedness of a patron that Bishop Robinson became the -servitor of Sir James Astrey at Brasenose. He was afterwards appointed to -a Fellowship at Oriel, was sent as an envoy to Sweden, and became Bishop -both of Bristol and London. In the days of his fame he was able to repay -in some sort the kindness of his patron by granting his son a chaplaincy; -and his love for the university is shown by the scholarships which he -founded at Oriel. - -Can Ruskin Hall point proudly to a son who has achieved such fame as -either of these ex-servitors? - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -SPORTS AND ATHLETICS - - Rowing--Dame Hooper's--Southey at Balliol--Cox's six-oared crew--The - riverside barmaid--Sailing-boats--Statutes against - games--Bell-ringing--Hearne and gymnasia--Horses and - badger-baiting--Cock-fights and prize-fights--Paniotti's Fencing - Academy--Old-time "bug-shooters"--Skating in Christ Church - meadows--Cricket and the Bullingdon Club--Walking tours. - - -It would be impossible to live in Oxford and be healthy--except perhaps in -the summer term, if we are lucky enough to have any sun--without taking -exercise. It has long been a matter of wonder how those men keep fit who, -with the excuse of "having a heart" neither row, play soccer, rugger, -hockey, or any other of the strenuous games which keep the average -Undergraduate sound in wind and limb. As a matter of fact they don't. For -the "heart-y" gentlemen almost invariably take as many week-ends out of -Oxford as possible, and in most cases retire comfortably and ingloriously -to the paternal establishment and maternal care long before term is over. -The others, the normal people, the devotees of bone and muscle, the -"muddied oafs and flannelled fools"--(which is the only mistake Mr Kipling -ever made)--are never ill, at least from climatic effects. They may strain -something, or even break a few bones, but that cannot be put down to the -Oxford weather. The best doctors on earth, or rather the best -preventatives against illness--and there is a great difference--are the -river, the football and hunting fields, and the boxing ring, and as we -find these things to be true to-day so in old times, when wigs and ruffles -were somewhat of a handicap to the taking of hard exercise, these -remedies against the Oxford climate were adopted with almost the same -keenness. The word almost is used advisedly because the percentage of -"bloods" who did nothing strenuous was far larger, and the possibilities -in things sporting were not nearly so great. We have changed all that, and -can afford a smile of condescension when, seated on the alleviating -pontius in a "Rough" eight, with its simple-looking sliding seat, its -hair-thick outer shell and its wonderful travelling possibilities, we -think of the heavy gigs and six-oared boats into which our predecessors -"tumbled," clad in catskin caps and leather trousers. - -Nevertheless the river was just as popular then though for quite different -reasons. There were no rowing Blues to be had in those days; no presidents -of boat clubs--no boat clubs even. There was only Dame Hooper's--an -odd-looking, tumble-down, shed-like place, where the gownsmen blarneyed -the old lady and hired out skiffs, gigs, cutters, and canoes. Unlike our -togger men who, like strange hairy creatures from another planet, -hatlessly converge from all parts of the town through the Broad Walk to -the Barges, emitting yards of muscular leg for all the world to view in -amusement and admiration, the eighteenth-century wet-bobs went down to the -river in square--or, as they called it, trencher--and gown. But Dame -Hooper was old, unskittish, and trustworthy, and so they threw off their -academical garb in her shed and arrayed themselves in the trousers, -jackets, and caps which were then the thing. It might well be thought that -these were a great hindrance to correct 'varsity swinging. But they did -not worry their heads about that--there was no boat race to be taken into -agitated consideration--and it has been left for 1911 to pour out its -bleeding heart in vehement controversy anent the true 'varsity style as -opposed to the new fangled Belgian method. In those days the motto was air -and exercise. Now, dare it be said, the river is a business, a -profession, to which are consecrated all the waking moments, and many of -those which we should like to dedicate to bed, of our whole university -careers. - -Southey, who was, oddly enough, a Balliol man, said that he only learned -two things at Oxford--to swim and to row. After he went down he wrote the -following description of the river:-- - -"A number of pleasure boats were gliding in all directions upon this clear -and rapid stream; some with spread sails; in others the caps and tassels -of the students formed a curious contrast with their employment at the -oar. Many of the smaller boats had only a single person in each; and in -some of these he sat face forward, leaning back as in a chair, and plying -with both hands a double-bladed oar in alternate strokes, so that his -motion was like the path of a serpent. One of these canoes is, I am -assured, so exceedingly light, that a man can carry it; but few persons -are skilful or venturous enough to use it."[8] - -It would be well worth while to watch the face of one of these timid -canoers if we could bring him down to the barges to-day to one of the -"rag" regattas and show him scores of "venturous persons" who not only -dispense with paddles, but dash about in a Canadian canoe with a punt -pole. - -G. V. Cox told us that in 1790 there were no races, but that "men went to -Nuneham for occasional parties in six-oared boats (eight-oared boats were -then unknown), but these boats belonged to the boat people; the crew was a -mixed crew got up for the day, and the dresses worn anything but uniform. -I belonged to a crew of five, who were, I think, the first distinguished -by a peculiar (and what would now be thought a ridiculous) dress, viz., a -green leather cap, with a jacket and trousers of nankeen!"[9] - -There are many recent boat club presidents who proudly show souvenirs of -love passages with every barmaid from Folly Bridge to Abingdon, and up the -Cher to Water Eaton. The fair damsels of the Cherwell Hotel are indeed the -sole reasons why hordes of Undergraduates punt out there to lunch on -Sundays, when they might just as easily, and far less expensively, take -luncheon baskets with them--as they do if their people are up! But there -is nothing original in all this. The same touch of old Adam existed in the -coffee-house period, as is shown by the following lines:-- - - "We visit Sandford next and there - Beckley provides accustomed fare - Of eels and perch and brown beef-steak.... - Whilst Hebe-like his daughter waits, - Froths our full bumpers, changes plates. - The pretty handmaid's anxious toils - Meanwhile our mutual praise beguiles, - Whilst she, delighted, blushing sees - The bill o'erpaid and pockets fees - Supplied for ribbon or for lace - To deck her bonnet or her face." - -To-day Hebe has become _blase_ and cannot blush with any readiness, nor is -she so anxious in her toils. The chaste salute and the overpaid bill are -features of our own time, and will remain, from generation to generation, -as long as Oxford is a university, and there are hotels on the Cher. The -same poet goes on to describe the way in which he was taught to sail by a -friend who was already an expert. - - "At Folly Bridge we hoist the sail, - And briskly scud before the gale - To Iffley--where our course awhile - Detain--its locks and Saxon pile - Affording pause; to recommend - The Hobby-horse unto my friend. - Our light-built galley; ours I say - Since Warren bears an equal sway - In her command; as first, in cost - The half he shared; himself a host - Whether he plies the limber oar - Or tows the vessel from the shore; - Or strains the main sheet tight astern - Close to the wind; of him I learn - Patient to wait the time exact - When jib and foresail should be back'd - To bring her round; or mark the strain - The boat on gunwale can sustain - Without aught danger of upsetting, - Or giving both her mates a wetting."[10] - -[Illustration: NORTH VIEW OF FRIAR BACON'S STUDY AT OXFORD.] - -A glance at the statutes shows that the river was almost the only form of -athletics then permissible, for the prohibited sports included "every kind -of game in which money is concerned, such as dibs, dice, cards, cricketing -in private grounds or gardens of the townspeople ... every kind of game or -exercise from which danger, injury, or inconvenience might arise to other -people, such as hunting of beasts with any sort of dogs, ferrets, nets or -toils, also any use or carrying of muskets, cross-bows, or falchions; -neither rope-dancers nor actors, nor shows of gladiators are to be -permitted without especial sanction; moreover, the scholars are not to -play at football, nor with cudgels, either among themselves or with the -townsfolk, a practice from which the most perilous contentions have -arisen." - -During the earlier half of the century, bell ringing was a form of -amusement--and exercise--which was very largely indulged in. At any hour -of the day it was the custom to go up into the belfry and practice, with -such zest that the ringer sometimes fell from sheer exhaustion. Hearne was -known to take a keen interest in the matches which were sometimes -arranged between different peals of bells, while Antony Wood, some years -before, had joined with his mother and brothers in subscribing towards the -foundation of the Merton bells and, as Wordsworth says, "though they were -not satisfactory to the 'curious and critical hearer,' he plucked at them -often with some of his fellow-collegians for recreation sake." Later on, -however, this practice was generally voted boring and even vulgar, and the -more "aristocratic door bell and knocker ringing" succeeded it. Hearne -himself was pleased to countenance bell-ringing, yet when a proposal was -afoot to found "an academy of exercise in the university such as riding -the great horse, fencing, etc.," he would not hear of it or entertain the -idea for a moment. "I think," said he, "'twould have utterly obstructed -all true learning." - -Horses, in spite of Hearne, were popular among Dons and Undergraduates. -The "Female Student," writing a letter to _The Student_, summed up the -tastes of a Master of Arts as consisting of "the college-hall, the -common-room, the coffee-house, and now and then a ride to the -Gog-magog-hills." The now and then was probably accounted for by the -expensiveness attaching to the hobby. There were, however, several -stable-keepers at the time who, starting with a diminutive capital, -retired after a very few years in the business with large fortunes. G. V. -Cox, the member of the crew in nankeen trousers, says that it was quite a -usual thing "for a gentleman (the Oxford tradesman's designation of a -member of the university) to ride a match against time to London and back -again to Oxford (108 miles) in twelve hours or less with, of course, -relays of horses at regular intervals. In one instance this was done in -eight hours and forty-five minutes.... Betting was, no doubt, the first -and chief motive; a foolish vanity the second; the third cause was the -absence at that time in the university of a better mode of proving pluck -and taming down the animal spirits of non-reading youngsters.... Hunting -then, as now, was an expensive amusement, only to be enjoyed by the few, -and by them only for a part of the year; racing had not then been thought -of ... but a gentleman need not learn to ride like a jockey."[11] - -Sir Erasmus Philipps must, therefore, have been a monied man, for in 1720, -when he was a Fellow-commoner of Pembroke, his outdoor sports took the -form of fox-hunting, attending cock-fights and horse-races, and riding to -Woodstock, Godstow, and Nuneham. Many of the horse-races took place on -Port Meadow. Terrae Filius, referring to "that famous apartment by idle -wits and buffoons nick-named Golgotha, _i.e._, the place of Sculls or -Heads of Colleges and Halls where they meet and debate upon all -extraordinary affairs which occur within the precincts of their -jurisdiction," says that "this room of state or academical council chamber -is adorn'd with a fine pourtrait of her late Majesty Queen Anne, which was -presented to this assembly by a jolly fox-hunter in the neighbourhood, out -of the tender regard which he bore to her pious memory, and to the -reverend Sculls of the university, who preside there; for which -benefaction they have admitted him into their company, and allow him the -honour to smoak a pipe with them twice a week." - -In one of the papers of _The Loiterer_ the writer described how Dr -Villars, Mr Sensitive, and himself went for a country walk and talk to Joe -Pullen's Tree. "As soon as we had reached this elevated situation, and -cast our eyes over the well-known view, a general silence took place for -some minutes. It was indeed a day for meditation. The sun emerging by fits -and starts from the grey fleckered clouds which overspread the whole -atmosphere, illuminated the projecting points of Magdalen and Merton -Towers, and shot its lengthened gleams across the pastures and meads, -which extend themselves in a long level to the north of the city, while -the woody hills of Wytham, rising boldly from behind a flat country, threw -over the whole background a broad mass of dark shadows broken only here -and there by a white sail, whose almost imperceptible motion just marked -the various turns and windings of the river.... A large party of very -dashing men rode by, mounted on cropt ponies, and followed by no -inconsiderable number of Tarriers. Of all sorts, sizes, and colours; and -as they did not ride very fast, and talked rather loud, we easily -discovered that the object of this grand cavalcade had been a -badger-baiting on Bullingdon Green; in the event of which combat they -seemed greatly interested, and were settling the merits of their different -dogs with great clamour, and not without some altercation." The solemn -statutes did not seem to worry those optimistic sportsmen overmuch on that -glorious summer day. - -Bull-baiting and cock-fighting, both, in their time, exceedingly popular -at the university were strongly put down by the authorities. One gathers -that it was usual at these affairs to start a free fight after the show, -in which the town and gown partisans did their best to kill or maim each -other for life. All things duly considered, therefore, it was, perhaps, a -wise step on the part of the Dons to forbid such affairs. Dr Rawlinson -made a regretful reference to one of these pitched battles: "A great -disturbance between the scholars of the university and the townsmen of -Heddington at a bull-baiting, at which some scholars were beaten." -Considering the tender years of most of the freshmen it is a matter for -great congratulation that they made such good stands against the -bullet-headed townees. They could not have done so but for the fact that -boxing was much followed among 'varsity men. They were to a large extent -keen patrons of the noble art of self-defence, and the chief instructors -about the year 1729 were none other than the celebrated Broughton and -Figg, who ran a saloon in London. The fact that this boxing academy was -far away from Oxford did not preclude the keenest pugilists from -journeying up to take lessons. Amhurst came across a crowd of -Undergraduates in an Oxford coffee-house one night just after Mendoza had -won a famous victory, and he was vastly entertained to hear their keenly -excited discussion of every lead and stop and hook and counter and to see -them turning and twisting their bodies in pugilistic attitudes in -illustration of the professional manner of planting each separate blow. -They seemed to know as much about the fight as if they had been present. - -In December 1729 the Mayor of Oxford licensed a prize fight to be held in -the town. Crowds attended in the assurance of a good morning's sport, but -at the last moment the Vice-Chancellor, a book-ridden, pompous, crusty old -curmudgeon, filled with the dignity of his office, appeared on the scene -and succeeded in putting a stop to it. It was a miracle that the assembled -multitude did not tear his robes off his back and put him in the ring to -stand up to one of the bruisers. - -In spite of Hearne's prognostication that the establishment of a fencing -academy would be the death of all true learning, an academy was started -some years later by a Greek of the name of Paniotti. He was "full of -sentiments of honour and courage, and of most independent spirit." R. L. -Edgeworth was a keen pupil of Paniotti, and it was at his school that he -became friends with Sir James M'Donald, who was "one of the greatest -scholars and mathematicians of his time." Their friendship was of short -duration, however, as Sir James died at Rome some five years later. - -Edgeworth has an interesting story about this fencing establishment. "Mr -L., a young gentleman of a noble family and of abilities, but of -overbearing manners, was our fellow pupil under Paniotti. At the same -school we met a young man of small fortune, and in a subordinate position -at Maudlin. - -"He fenced in a regular way, and much better than Mr L., who, in revenge, -would sometimes take a stiff foil that our master used for parrying, and -pretending to fence, would thrust it with great violence against his -antagonist. The young man submitted for some time to this foul play, but -at last he appealed to Paniotti, and to such of his pupils as were -present. Paniotti, though he had expectancies from the patronage of the -father of his nobly-born pupil, yet without hesitation condemned his -conduct. One day, in defiance of L.'s bullying pride, I proposed to fence -with him, armed as he was with this unbending foil, on condition that he -should not thrust at my face; but at the very first opportunity he drove -the foil into my mouth. I went to the door, broke off the buttons of two -foils, turned the key in the lock, and offered one of these extemporaneous -swords to my antagonist, who very prudently declined the invitation. This -person afterwards showed through life an unprincipled and cowardly -disposition."[12] - -While on the subject of fighting it is interesting to note that there were -such things as 'varsity "bug-shooters" even in those times, whose keenness -was far greater than that of the majority of the O.U.O.T.C., who slack -through just sufficient drills to enable them to put in a fortnight's -camping in summer. G. V. Cox says that there were "enrolled about five -hundred, commanded by Mr Coker of Bicester, formerly Fellow of New -College. Such indeed was the zeal and spirit called forth in those -stirring times by the threat of invasion that even clerical members did -not hesitate to join the ranks.... Some also of the most respectable of -the college servants were enrolled with their masters.... The dress or -uniform was of a very heavy character but also very imposing: a blue coat -(rather short but somewhat more than a jacket) faced with white duck -pantaloons, with a black leathern strap or garter below the knee, and -short black cloth gaiters. The headdress was also heavy; a beaver -round-headed hat surmounted by a formidable roll of bear-skin or something -of the kind."[13] - -Several years after the above incident in Paniotti's fencing school, an -article appeared in _The Student_. It was a fantastic account of "Several -Public Buildings in Oxford never before described" and contained the -following:-- - -"The several gymnasia constructed for the exercise of our youth, and a -relaxation from their severer studies, are not so much frequented as -formerly, especially in the summer; our ingenious gownsmen having found -out several sports which conduce to the same end, such as battle-door and -shuttle-cock, swinging on the rope, etc., in their apartments; or, in the -fields, leap-frog, tag, hop-step-and-jump, and among the rest, skittles; -which last is a truly academical exercise, as it is founded on -arithmetical and geometrical principles." - -Skinner, the poet, who sailed his yacht down to Sandford and rowed in Dame -Hooper's boats, seems to have been quite an all-round man. - - "If day prove only passing fair - I walk for exercise and air - Or for an hour skate, - For a large space of flooded ground - Which Christ Church gravel walks surround - Has solid froze of late. - - "Here graceful gownsmen silent glide, - Or noisy louts on hobnails slide, - Whilst lads the confines keep - Exacting pence from every one - As payment due for labour done - As constantly they sweep." - -His touch of "side" is not unfunny--the graceful 'varsity man is a picture -of all culture, while the townee is a lout because he slides on vulgar -hobnails. On several of the bard's sailing expeditions, after they had -dined chez Beckley, and duly tipped the girl, - - "A game of quoits will oft our stay - Awhile at Sandford Inn delay; - Or rustic nine-pins; then once more - We hoist our sail, and tug the oar."[14] - -He must doubtless have looked down upon his fellow quill driver in _The -Student_ as several parts of a fool for thinking rustic nine-pins "a truly -academical exercise, as it is founded on arithmetical and geometrical -principles." - -Cricket and tennis were not of much account. The Lownger described his -going after dinner to tennis, returning in time for chapel - - "From the Coffee House then I to Tennis away, - And at six I post back to my college to pray," - -while G. V. Cox, in his "Recollections," remembered that "the game of -cricket was kept up chiefly by the young men from Winchester and Eton, and -was confined to the old Bullingdon Club, which was expensive and -exclusive. The members of it, however, with the exception of a few who -kept horses, did not mind walking to and fro."[15] - -As a rather less strenuous form of exercise than eighteenth-century -cricket many men kept themselves fit by walking. Wordsworth points out -that "in 1799 Daniel Wilson writes to his father, that very few days -passed when he did not walk for about an hour." This exceedingly gentle -form of pedestrianism was only an end of century hobby. Earlier on men -seem to have been made of sterner stuff. The Greek Professor at Aberdeen, -Dr Thomas Blackwell, wrote to Warburton at Oxford in 1736 to beg him to -accompany Middleton and their common friend, Mr Gale, in a tour in -Scotland for two months in the summer during the long vacation. "In 1742 -Tho. Townson started for a three years' tour in France, Italy, Germany, -and Holland, with Dawkins, Drake, and Holdsworth. On his return from the -continent," the quotation is from Christopher Wordsworth, "he resumed in -College (Magdalen) the arduous and respectable employment of tuition, in -which he had been engaged before he went abroad. William Wordsworth took -walking tours in France 1790-91 (at a time no less awfully interesting -than that which the country has now been passing through) before and after -taking his degree." In the first instance he was accompanied by his -college friend Robert Jones, with about twenty pounds apiece in their -pockets. "Our coats which we had made light on purpose for that journey -are of the same piece," he wrote, "and our manner of carrying our bundles -which is upon our heads, with each an oak stick in our hands, contributes -not a little to the general curiosity which we seem to excite." - -[Illustration: A DUCK HUNT.] - -Had they but carried more money and travelled in luxury they would not -have been unlike the present-day Rhodes men, whose custom it is during -vacation to scour the ends of the earth. - -Inter-college and inter-'varsity athletic meetings were undreamed of in -the eighteenth century. Because Georgian Oxford men could not boast -representative colours, however, is no proof that they were not sportsmen. -It would be impossible to find a set of men in any century more ready for -deeds of daring do. They rode straight and ate hearty. They broke rules -and defied statutes with a zest that suggests anarchism. In spite of wigs -and ruffles they sped like hares down back alleys and scaled the high -college walls like monkeys to avoid a conversation with the Proctors and -their bulldogs. They sallied forth in trencher and gown, the insignia of -their allegiance to _Alma mater_, and in sheer high spirits set themselves -to bring about a fight with the jeering townees. Back to back they fought -against all odds, recking little of bleeding noses and broken pates. If -they drank too freely and encouraged the toasts, the blame was not -entirely theirs. They did but follow the fashion of the times. Their -password was thoroughness. Whatever they did, they did with all their -might. If they rang bells, they made the air hideous until they fell -exhausted. If they collected knockers they stripped a whole street before -their energy waned. If they slacked they slacked superbly. Without any of -the advantages brought about by modern ideas and inventions, our -predecessors were sportsmen to the core and just as we to-day employ every -moment of our four years to the fullest advantage so did the men who trod -Oxford streets in wigs and laces when she was two centuries younger. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -CLUBS AND SOCIETIES - - The foregathering fresher--Dibdin and the "Lunatics"--The Constitution - Club--The Oxford Poetical Club--Its rules and minutes--High - Borlace--The Freecynics and Banterers. - - -Year by year the places of those who go down are filled by succeeding -generations of public school men--men who are more conservative in ideas -than the members of any other class of society. Their immediate ambitions -are limited to achieving a Blue, capturing the presidency of the Union or -winning one of the big university prizes. - -They take things as they find them, and very rarely try to launch out on -new lines. They early discover that gregariousness is one of the chief -characteristics of an Oxford man. They find it exhibited in the -extraordinary number of clubs and societies in each college. Their natural -conservatism convinces them that as the forming of clubs is co-existent -with university life, they must not hesitate to follow the admirable -example of their seniors. With the untiring enthusiasm of youth they -concentrate their brains and energies therefore to the formation of new -clubs--having already become members of a great percentage of the -long-founded university clubs which are open to them. They make the -epoch-making discovery that many of their members have cut and dried ideas -on politics, and that others are big with new theories on social -conditions and the education of the masses. Heedless of the fact that in -reality these new theories and political arguments have been discussed and -thrashed out by thousands of Oxford men before they were born, they begin -in their obsession to institute new clubs--political, musical, literary, -debating, social, poetical--clubs of all kinds and conditions. They -cultivate gregariousness, if it is not already temperamental, as one of -the cardinal virtues. They foregather in each other's rooms nightly, -consume tremendous quantities of tobacco, cake, and coffee, and abide -feverishly by every rule of the particular society of which they are the -founders. - -In the eighteenth century the men were just as fond of foregathering; but -they laboured under severe disadvantages in connection with the -authorities, who looked upon the formation of clubs and societies as -something new and consequently revolutionary and dangerous. As an instance -of the hide-bound conservatism of the moss-grown powers that were I cannot -do better than take the case of Dibdin and the "Lunatics," a club which -was inaugurated at the very end of the eighteenth century. "Several -members of several colleges (in the number of whom I was as proud as happy -to be enlisted)," wrote Dibdin, "met frequently at each other's rooms, to -talk over and to concoct a code of laws or of regulations for the -establishment of a society to be called a 'Society for Scientific and -Literary Disquisition.' It comprehended a debate and an essay, to be -prepared by each member in succession, studiously avoiding, in both, all -topics of religious and political controversy. There was not the slightest -attempt to beat down any one barrier of university law of regulation -throughout our whole code. We were to meet in a hired room, at a private -house, and were to indulge in our favourite themes in the most -unrestrained manner, without giving ingress to a single stranger. Over and -over again was each law revised, corrected, and endeavoured to be rendered -as little objectionable as possible. At length, after the final touches, -we demanded an interview with the Vice-Chancellors and Proctors; and our -founder, William George Maton, of Queen's College, Messrs Stoddart, -Whitelock, Falconer (of Christ Church, Queen's and Corpus Colleges) were -deputed to meet the great men in office, and to report accordingly. - -"Dr Wills was then Vice-Chancellor.... He received the deputation in the -most courteous manner, and requested that the laws might be left with him, -as much for his own particular and careful examination as for that of -other heads of houses or officers whom he might choose to consult. His -request was as readily complied with, and a day was appointed when the -answer of the oracle might be obtained. In about a week, according to -agreement, the same deputation was received within the library of the -Vice-Chancellor who, after solemnly returning the volume (containing the -laws) into the hands of our worthy founder, addressed them pretty nearly -in the following words: 'Gentlemen, there does not appear to be anything -in these laws subversive of academic discipline, or contrary to the -statutes of the university--but (ah, that ill-omened But!) as it is -impossible to predict how they may operate, and as innovations of this -sort, and in these times, may have a tendency which may be as little -anticipated as it may be distressing to the framers of such laws, I am -compelled, in the exercise of my magisterial authority, as -Vice-Chancellor, to interdict your meeting in the manner proposed'"--and -then one can see him ringing for the servant to show them out, with a -polite smile on his fat face, in the usual red-tape manner. As, however, -the deputation was prepared for something of this sort they merely retired -politely, breathing murders and slaughterings against the archaism of the -institution of Vice-Chancellor. Returning to their room, they came to the -conclusion that as they did not intend to be beaten "there was, -therefore, one result to adopt--one choice left; and that was, to carry -the object, so dear to our hearts, into effect within our private -apartments in rotation. There we might discuss, debate, and hear essays -read _ad infinitum_; and, accordingly, our first meeting took place in -Queen's College, at the rooms of our founder, afterwards so long and so -well known in the medical world as Dr Maton."[16] - -After this preliminary check from the Vice-Chancellor, who, in charity be -it said, probably could not help himself, and was only doing his duty -according to his lights, the club throve like a bay tree and became -exceedingly famous. "Our society was quickly enlarged, and the present -Bishop of Llandaff, then a student of Corpus College, and the Rev. John -Horseman, afterwards a tutor in the same college, were enrolled members. -The two Moncrieffs of Baliol were also among our earlier acquisitions, and -some gentlemen commoners of Trinity College (whose name I have forgotten) -together with my oldest, and among my most valued friends, Mr Barwis of -Queen's, Mr Gibson (afterwards called Riddell) of Worcester, and George -Foster of Lincoln--all united to give strength and respectability to our -association. Our meetings were frequent and full. The essays after having -been read, were entered in a book; and I am not sure whether, at this very -day, such book be not in existence. The subjects of debate usually were, -as of old they ever had been, whether the merits or demerits of such a -character (Caesar or Queen Elizabeth, for instance) were the greater? Or -whether the good or evil of such a measure in legislation or in politics, -the more predominent. Of our speakers, the elder Moncrieff, and George -Forster of Lincoln were doubtless the most fluent and effective; -especially the latter, who had a fervency of utterance which was at times -surprising. But the younger Moncrieff, in course of time, followed his -brother, _passibus aequis_. Taking the art of speaking and the composition -of an essay together, I think Mr (now Sir John) Stoddart of Christ Church -beat us all. He was always upon his legs, a fearless opponent, and in the -use of a pen the most unpremeditating and successful.... - -"Meanwhile the fame of our club, or society, began to be noised abroad; -and those who felt no inclination to write essays, or to impose upon -themselves the toil of reading and research for the purpose of making a -speech, were pretty free in using sneering epithets, and in stigmatising -by nicknames. There was, however, _one_ nickname which we instantly and -courageously took to ourselves and adopted--and that was the 'Lunatics.' -Mad, indeed we were, and desired so to be called--if an occasional -deviation from dull and hard drinking, frivolous gossip, and Boeotian -uproar, could justify that appellation." - -Undoubtedly the origin of present-day first year societies, which, unlike -the "Lunatics," are nearly always ephemeral affairs, may be found in the -recollections of Richard Graves, in which, referring to William Shenstone, -he says, "Our more familiar acquaintance commenced by an invitation from -Mr Shenstone to breakfast at his chambers, which we accepted; and which, -according to the sociable disposition of most young people, was protracted -to a late hour; during which, Mr Shenstone, I remember, in order to detain -us, produced Cotton's 'Virgil Travestie,' which he had lately met with; -and which, though full of indelicacies and low humour, is certainly a most -laughable performance. I displayed my slender stock of critical knewledge -by applauding, as a work of equal humour, Echard's 'Causes of the Contempt -of the Clergy.' Mr Whistler, who was a year or two older than either of -us, I believe, and had finished his school education at Eton, preferred -Pope's 'Rape of the Lock,' as a higher species of humour than anything we -had produced. In short, this morning's lounge, which seemed mutually -agreeable, was succeeded by frequent repetitions of them; and at length, -by our meeting likewise, almost every evening, at each other's chambers -the whole summer, where we read plays and poetry, _Spectators_ and -_Tatlers_, and other works of easy digestion, and sipped Florence -wine."[17] - -There were many famous clubs in the eighteenth century, each of which had -an individuality of its own. Just as the "Lunatics" was literary and -debating, the Constitution Club was political and aggressive, the Oxford -Poetical Club considered itself really poetical, and the High Borlace was -purely social and jovial. - -The Constitution Club had its headquarters at the King's Head Tavern in -the High. Its members "included five fellows, a chaplain and four -gentlemen commoners of New College, one gentleman commoner and seven -others of Oriel, three of Christ Church; Hart Hall, Worcester, All Souls, -Merton, St John's, Trinity, and Wadham contributed at least one member -each--usually a gentleman commoner."[18] The motives of its institution -were, according to Amhurst, as follows: "The society took its rise from -the iniquity of the times, and was intended to promote and cultivate -friendship between all such persons as favour'd our present happy -constitution; they thought themselves obliged openly and publickly to avow -their loyalty, and manifest their sincere affection to King George upon -all proper and becoming occasions, and to check, as much as in them lay, -the vast torrent of treason and dissaffection which overflow'd the -university. They thought it their duty to show all possible marks of -respect to those faithful officers, who were so seasonably sent to that -place, by the favour of the government, to protect the quiet part of -the king's subjects, and to suppress the tumultuary practices of the -profess'd enemies to his majesty's person and government; and for -constantly adhering to what they thought their duty in those points; and -for no other cause, that they can apprehend, they have been so unfortunate -as to become obnoxious to the university, and to feel, many of them, the -severe effects of their resentments." - -[Illustration: A WESTERN VIEW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE.] - -How much truth there is in this account of the lofty aims and patriotic -ambitions of this club, and whether Amhurst was one of the St John's men -who were members, and consequently had his facts first hand, or whether it -is merely an account written round one or two of the club's actions, it is -impossible to ascertain. At any rate Amhurst seems to have dropped his -sarcasm, and to have written straightforwardly and sincerely on their -behalf. So that it is only fair to conclude that they had these objects, -more or less, in view. In proof of his statements Christopher Wordsworth -tells us that "on the king's birthday, the 28th of May aforesaid, the -whole body of the Constitution Club met together at a tavern and ordered -the windows of the house to be illuminated, and some faggots to be -prepared for a bonfire. But before the bonfire could be lighted, a very -numerous mob, which was hired for that purpose, tore to pieces the -faggots, and then assaulted the room where the club was sitting, with -brickbats and stones. All the time that the mob was thus employed, the -disaffected scholars, who had crowded the houses and streets near the -tavern, continued throwing up their caps and scattering money amongst the -rabble and shouting, 'Down with the Constitutioners; down with the Whigs; -no George; James for ever; Ormond, Bolingbroke,' etc.... The -Constitutioners thought it prudent to make the best of their way to their -colleges for the night. On the Sunday the club met again at Oriel, and -were the objects of the indignation of the mob, who thronged the streets -at six o'clock. A Brasenose man was wounded by a gunshot fired by one of -the Constitutioners, or their friends in Oriel, after which the crowd -retired to pull down the conventicles." (This account of the affair is -given as being less biassed than Amhurst's, which, in substance, is -identical, but does not tally in one or two details.) - -The fat was consequently sizzling noisily in the fire. The whole place -discussed nothing else for days. Prosecutions were hourly made in the -Vice-Chancellor's court. The grand jury of Oxfordshire made a -"presentment" in no ordered terms against the Constitutioners, who also -met with "unjust and scandalous usage" in St Mary's, Golgotha, the -Theatre, Convocation House, and the Schools, which all rang with -"invectives and anathemas against them.... Even those grave tools, the -Vice-Chancellor and Proctors, to enliven their dull harangues, and gain -the applause of the subordinate rabble, never fail'd, in their most solemn -speeches before the convocation, to fall foul and heavy on the -Constitution Club." The noise of the affair reached as far as the ears of -the King himself, and "rattling letters" were sent to the Vice-Chancellor. - -The Oxford Poetical Club was very famous in 1721. To obtain any accurate -idea of its constitution and objects it is necessary to strike the happy -mean between the accounts of it which are given by Amhurst and Erasmus -Philipps. The latter recorded in his diary that on 17th August of that -year he "went with Mr Tristram to the Poetical Club (whereof he is a -member) at the Tuns, kept by Mr Broadgate, where met Dr Evans, Fellow of -St John's, and Mr Jno. Jones, Fellow of Balliol, members of the club. -Subscribed 5s. to Dr Evans's 'Hymen and Juno' (which one merrily call'd -Evans's Bubble, it being now South Sea Time). Drank Galicia wine, and was -entertained with two Fables of the Doctor's composition, which were indeed -masterly in their kind; but the Doctor is allowed to have a peculiar -knack, and to excell all mankind at a Fable."[19] - -Amhurst, by no means a respecter of persons, devoted two papers to -ridiculing the poetry club, from which I cull the following: "Divers -eminent and most ingenious gentlemen, true lovers and judges of poetry, -having with great grief observ'd that noble art declining in Oxford (its -antient seat and fountain) resolv'd, if possible, to restore it to its -pristine vigour and glory. They justly apprehended, both from reason and -experience, that a critical lecture, once a term, though never so -judicious, was not sufficient; and that the theory of any art was -defective without the practice; and, therefore, they thought the best -method to forward this design would be to institute a weekly meeting of -the finest geniuses and _beaux esprits_ of the university, at a certain -place, to be appointed by them, where they might debate the cause of -poetry, and put its laws into regular execution. This proposal was -immediately assented to; and the next question was, where to meet? - -"This occasioned a short debate, some speaking in favour of the King's -Head, and some declaring for the Crown; but they were both opposed by -others, who presum'd that the Three Tuns would suit them much better; in -which they carry'd their point, and the Three Tuns was thereupon nominated -the place of meeting, upon these two proviso's, that Mr Broadgate would -keep good wine and a pretty wench at the bar; both which are by all -criticks allow'd to be of indispensable use in poetical operations." - -The alleged cause of this picturesque enumeration of imaginary details -was that several poems had appeared at that time in the newspapers with -the public sanction of the club. Terrae Filius immediately began to puzzle -his brain as to the membership of the club and its intentions. For a time -he admitted himself entirely baffled, but at last "chance, almighty -chance," prospered his wishes. As the result of his enquiries he -discovered the rules of the society to be:-- - -"1. That no person be admitted a member of this society, without Letters -Testimonial, to be sign'd by three persons of credit, that he has -distinguished himself in some tale, catch, sonnet, epigram, madrigal, -anagram, acrostick, tragedy, comedy, farce, or epick poem. - -"2. That no person be admitted a member of this society, who has any -visible way of living, or can spend five shillings per annum _de proprio_; -it being an established maxim, that no rich man can be a good poet. - -"3. That no member presume to discover the secrets of this society to any -body whatsoever, upon pain of expulsion. - -"4. That no member in any of his lucubrations do transgress the rules of -Aristotle, or any other sound critick, antient or modern, under pain of -having his said lucubrations burnt, in a full club, by the hands of the -small-beer drawer. - -"5. That no member do presume in any of his writings, to reflect on the -Church of England, as by law established, or either of the two famous -universities, or upon any magistrate or member of the same under pain of -having his said writings burnt as aforesaid and being himself expell'd. - -"6. That no tobacco be smoked in this society; the fumigation thereof -being supposed to cloud the poetical faculty, and to clog the subtle -wheels of the Imagination. - -"7. That no member do repeat any verses, without leave first had and -obtained from Mr President. - -"8. That no person be allowed above the space of one hour at a time to -repeat. - -"9. That no person do print any of his verses, without the approbation of -the major part of the society, under pain of expulsion. - -"10. That every member do subscribe his name to the foregoing articles." - -These rules, before finally settled upon, had been fully discussed. A -member, by name Dr Crassus, took strong objection to the smoking rule -because he was covered with a superfluity of adipose tissue, and held that -the use of tobacco "would carry off those noxious heavy particles which -turn the edge of his fancy, and obstruct his intellectual perspiration." -He was backed up by a medical friend, and the result was that a special -exception was made in his sole favour. A second gentleman said that he -could not declare with a "safe conscience" that he was unable to spend -five shillings per annum _de proprio_; but the President ably settled the -point by observing that "as God is the sole author and disposer of all -Things, we cannot in strict sense, call any thing our own; nor say that we -have any visible way of living, our daily bread being the only bounty of -His invisible hand, and therefore you may, _salva conscientia_, declare -that you have no visible way of living; and that you cannot spend five -shillings per annum _de proprio_, though according to vain human -computation, you are worth five thousand pounds a year." The final -objection raised, before the rules were at last suitably framed and hung -over the mantelpiece in the club-room, was that one of the gentlemen could -not subscribe to Rule 10. He could not write, and therefore could not -comply with the strict letter of the law. If, however, he could be allowed -to make his mark, the whole difficulty could be settled out of hand. This -was agreed to without hesitation, "it being truly no uncommon Thing in -many an excellent poet." - -Not content with thus pouring ridicule upon their foundation and -institution, Amhurst, in his subsequent paper in which he described their -first meeting absolutely surpassed himself at their expense. - - MINUTES OF THE OXFORD POETICAL CLUB. - - "The members being met, and Mr President having assum'd the chair, - three preliminary bumpers pass'd round the board; after which Dr - Crassus, in pursuance of the power granted him, as mentioned in our - last, retir'd to a snug corner of the room where a little table was - placed for him, with pipes and tobacco upon it; then the doctor - handled his Arms; and as he was glazing his pipe with a Ball of - superfine wax, which he always carried in his pocket for that use, he - alarm'd the room with a sudden peal of laughter, which drew the eyes - of the assembly towards him, and made all of them very solicitous to - know the conceit which occasioned it; but the doctor was not, for - several minutes, able to do it, the fit continuing upon him, and - growing louder and louder; at last, when it began to intermit, he made - a shift to reveal the cause of his mirth thus:-- - - "'Why, gentlemen,' said he,--'ha! ha! ha!--why, gentlemen, I say the - prettiest Epigram! ha! ha! ha! I cannot tell you for my life--I have - made, I say, upon this ball of wax here, ha! ha! ha!--that you ever - heard in your lives. Shall I repeat it, Mr President?' - - "'By all means, doctor,' said he; 'no body more proper to open the - assembly than Doctor Crassus!' - - "Then the doctor compos'd his countenance, and standing up, with the - ball of wax in his right hand, pronounc'd the following distich with - an heroick emphasis. - - "'This wax, d'ye see, with which my pipe I glaze, - Is the best wax I ever us'd in all my days.' - - "'Ha! ha! ha! How d'ye like it, gentlemen ha! ha! ha! Is it not very - pretty gentlemen?' - - "'Very pretty, without flattery, doctor,' said they all; 'very - excellent, indeed.' - - "Upon which the doctor smiled pleasantly, and lighted his pipe.... - During the first part of the night their thoughts were something - gloomy and run upon elegies and epitaphs upon living as well as dead - men; but you will find them brighten up as the night advance and the - bottles increase. They begin with satire and funeral lamentation; but - end with love, smuttiness and a song"--and there I will leave them. - -The High Borlace was a Tory club which, says Christopher Wordsworth, "had -a convivial meeting held annually at the King's Head Tavern in Oxford, on -the 18th of August (or, if that fell on a Sunday, on the 19th, as in -1734), on which occasion Dr Leigh, Master of Balliol, was of the High -Borlace and the first clergyman who had attended. It seems to have been -patronised by the county families, and it is not improbable that there was -a ball connected with it. The members chose a Lady Patroness: in 1732 Miss -Stonhouse; 1733, Miss Molly Wickham of Garsington; 1734 Miss Anne Cope, -daughter of Sir Jonathan Cope of Bruern." - -In the _Gentleman's Magazine_ in the year 1765 there was the following -reference: "Monday Aug. 19, was held at the Angel inn, at Oxford, the High -Borlase, when Lady Harriott Somerset was chosen Lady Patroness for the -year ensuing." - -Of other smaller clubs there were the Freecynics in 1737, which Dr -Rawlinson describes as "a kind of Philosophical Club who have a set of -symbolical words and grimaces, unintelligible to any but those of their -own society," and the Nonsense Club, founded by George Coleman, Bonnel -Thornton and Lloyd about 1750. The latter would seem from its name to be a -revival of the earlier Banterers existing almost a century before, who are -described by Wood as "a set of scholars so-called, some M.A., who make it -their employment to talk at a venture, lye, and prate what nonsense they -please, if they see a man talk seriously they talk floridly nonsense, and -care not what he says; this is like throwing a cushion at a man's head -that pretends to be grave and wise." Although Coleman assisted to found -the Nonsense Club he makes no reference to it in his reminiscences, so it -is more than probable that it was merely the whim of a term or so. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -WORK AND EXAMINATIONS - - Tolerated ignorance--Lax discipline--Gibbon and Magdalen--The - "Vindication"--Opposing and responding--"Schemes"--Doing - austens--Perjury and bribes--Receiving presents--Magdalen collections. - - -Nowadays work is a factor in university life which has to be seriously -reckoned with. However strong one's intentions to do none, however -convinced one may be of the complete absurdity and futility of cramming -dull stuff for no apparent good reasons, when there is such a glorious -time to be had doing nothing in the mornings and "sweating" at athletics -in the afternoons, yet the Dons have of late acquired a foolish habit of -sending a man down unless he succeeds in scraping through certain -examinations. - -They feel it to be essential, through some misguided feeling of duty, to -harry the athlete and outdoor man, and at certain periods, even, to hound -him in white tie, and as much gown as he can lay hands on, to the schools, -and if, on his final exit from their clutches, they are not satisfied with -the results of his cramming, they invert their thumbs and down he goes! It -matters not whether he be merely a humble eightsman or the all-important -President of the Boat Club. The examiners are no respecters of persons, -and fear no man nor beast. The athlete retires willy nilly. - -How different were the Dons' views in Georgian times! Amhurst, serious for -once, declared that the keynote of the century was tolerated ignorance. He -made the statement boldly in the face of the high reputation of the Dons -for learning and classical knowledge, in defiance of the wrath of the -entire university. He was justified in making such an assertion, and I -have tried to prove the truth of his words in the course of this chapter. - -"A gentleman commoner," he said, "if he be a man of fortune, is soon told -that it is not expected from one of his form to mind exercises; if he is -studious, he is morose, and a heavy bookish fellow; if he keeps a cellar -of wine, the good natur'd fellows will indulge him, tho' he should be too -heavy-headed to be at chapel in the morning." - -In proof of this assertion I will take the case, from a sheaf of others, -of Mr Harris, afterwards Lord Malmesbury, who was an Undergraduate of -Merton in 1763. "The discipline of the university happened also at this -particular moment to be so lax," he wrote, "that a gentleman -commoner"--and it would seem not to be of great moment whether he had -riches or not--"was under no restraint, and never called upon to attend -either lectures, or chapel, or hall. My tutor, an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practise of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to be taught trigonometry. The set of men with whom -I lived were very pleasant but very idle fellows. Our life was an -imitation of high life in London." The entire lack of compulsion to work, -however, did not by any means cause Harris and his friends to dwindle into -mere "wasters." From that little coterie eventually emerged Charles Fox -and William Eden. - -Gibbon, the historian of world-wide renown, never did one stroke of work -while at Magdalen, nor was he ever asked, with any firmness, to do so. In -his much discussed reminiscences he set down that "some duties may -possibly have been imposed on the poor scholars, whose ambition aspired to -the peaceful honours of a scholarship; but no independent members were -admitted below the rank of gentleman commoner, and our velvet cap was the -cap of liberty." Commenting upon the prevailing slackness of tutors, -Gibbon quoted his own experiences. The learned doctor to whose care he was -first confided, described as "one of the best of the tribe," had suggested -that Gibbon should read the comedies of Terence every morning with him. -"During the first weeks," wrote Gibbon, "I constantly attended these -lessons in my tutor's rooms; but as they appeared equally devoid of profit -and pleasure, I was once tempted to try the experiment of a formal -apology. The apology was accepted with a smile. I repeated the offence -with less ceremony; the excuse was admitted with the same indulgence; the -slightest motive of laziness or indisposition, the most trifling avocation -at home or abroad, was allowed as a worthy impediment; nor did my tutor -appear conscious of my absence or neglect.... No plan of study was -recommended for my use; no exercises were prescribed for his inspection; -and at that most precious season of youth, whole days and weeks were -suffered to elapse, without labour or amusement, without advice or -account."[20] - -Such was the sum total of Gibbon's relations with that worthy and -excellent man, for, the following term, he found on his arrival, that he -had departed from the college and that another tutor was installed in his -place. Of his connection with this second tutor the Magdalen man wrote as -follows: "Instead of guiding the studies, and watching over the behaviour -of his disciple, I was never summoned to attend even the ceremony of a -lecture; and, excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms, during the eight -months of his titular office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same -college as strangers to each other." These accusations against the -Magdalen discipline have been most heatedly "vindicated" by the Rev. -James Hurdis, who declared it to have been more Gibbon's fault than the -Dons' that he was not looked after, because he gave flippant excuses which -he dubbed formal apologies, and had not the patience to continue the -course of lectures arranged and delivered by his tutors. - -These vindicatory arguments do not hold water. All men will evade -authority if they can. Therefore it is surely the place of the tutor to -put his foot down and issue orders instead of letting his pupil wander at -will and do no work. - -In all the many descriptions of a day in the life of a Smart, or an -ordinary gentleman commoner, or the river man, no references are to be -found as to their doing any work. On the contrary, Skinner said that -"Aristotle has been deserted for the bottle," and launched into -descriptions of the empty schools. With tutors who considered politics and -consequent individual preferment of far greater importance than the mere -conning of pupils' work, it is not to be wondered at that the only men who -did any work were those who were "bookish" by nature and preferred a quiet -studious life to one of revelry and slacking. For the most part these -worked independently of Dons, entirely of their own volition. As far as a -good degree went, it was utterly useless; for the method of passing -university examinations was, to put it mildly, a farce. The veracity of -Vicesimus Knox is not for one moment to be questioned, so that the -following account may be taken as a fair example of the customs of the -times. - -"The youth, whose heart pants for the honour of a Bachelor of Arts degree, -must wait patiently till near four years have revolved. But this time is -not to be spent idly. No; he is obliged, during this period, once to -oppose, and once to respond, in disputations held in the public schools--a -formidable sound and a dreadful idea; but, on closer attention, the fear -will vanish, and contempt supply its place. This opposing and responding -is termed, in the cant of the place, _doing generals_. Two boys, or men, -as they call themselves, agree to do generals together. The first step in -this mighty work is to procure arguments. These are always handed down, -from generation to generation, on long slips of paper, and consist of -foolish syllogisms on foolish subjects; of the formation or the -signification of which the respondent and opponent seldom know more than -an infant in swaddling clothes. The next step is to go for a _liceat_ to -one of the petty officers, called the Regent Master of the Schools, who -subscribes his name to the questions and receives sixpence as his fee. -When the important day arrives, the two doughty disputants go into a large -dusty room, full of dirt and cobwebs, with walls and wainscot decorated -with the names of former disputants, who to divert the tedious hours cut -out their names with their penknives, or wrote verses with a pencil. Here -they sit in mean desks, opposite to each other, from one o'clock till -three. Not once in a hundred times does any officer enter; and, if he -does, he hears one syllogism or two, and then makes a bow, and departs, as -he came and remained, in solemn silence. The disputants then return to the -amusement of cutting the desks, carving their names, or reading Sterne's -'Sentimental Journey,' or some other edifying novel. When this exercise is -duly performed by both parties, they have a right to the title and -insignia of Sophs; but not before they have been formally created by one -of the regent-masters.... This work done, a great progress is made towards -the wished-for honour of a Bachelor's degree. There remain only one or two -trifling forms, and another disputation, almost exactly similar to doing -generals, but called _answering under bachelor_, previous to the awful -examination. Every candidate is obliged to be examined in the whole -circle of the sciences by three Masters of Arts _of his own choice_. The -examination is to be held in one of the public schools, and to continue -from nine o'clock till eleven. The masters take a most solemn oath, that -they will examine properly and impartially. Dreadful as all this appears, -there is always found to be more of appearance in it than reality, for the -greatest dunce usually gets his _testimonium_ signed with as much ease and -credit as the finest genius. The manner of proceeding is as follows: The -poor young man to be examined in the sciences often knows no more of them -than his bedmaker, and the masters who examine are sometimes equally -unacquainted with such mysteries. But _schemes_, as they are called, or -little books, containing forty or fifty questions on each science, are -handed down, from age to age, from one to another. The candidate to be -examined employs three or four days in learning these by heart, and the -examiners, having done the same before him when they were examined, know -what questions to ask, and so all goes on smoothly. When the candidate has -displayed his universal knowledge of the sciences, he is to display his -skill in philology. One of the masters, therefore, desires him to construe -a passage in some Greek or Latin classic, which he does with no -interruption, just as he pleases, and as well as he can. The statutes next -require that he should translate familiar English phrases into Latin. And -now is the time when the masters show their wit and jocularity. Droll -questions are put on any subject, and the puzzled candidate furnishes -diversion by his awkward embarrassment. I have known the questions on this -occasion to consist of an enquiry into the pedigree of a race-horse.... -This familiarity, however, only takes place when the examiners are pot -companions of the candidate, which indeed is usually the case; for it is -reckoned good management to get acquainted with two or three jolly young -Masters of Arts and supply them well with port, previously to the -examination. If the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors happen to enter the -school, a very uncommon event, then a little solemnity is put on, very -much to the confusion of the masters, as well as of the boy, who is -sitting in the little box opposite them. As neither the officer, nor any -one else usually enters the room (for it is reckoned very _ungenteel_) the -examiners and the candidates often converse on the last drinking bout, or -on horses, or read the newspaper, or a novel, or divert themselves as well -as they can in any manner till the clock strikes eleven, when all parties -descend, and the _testimonium_, is signed by the masters. With this -_testimonium_ in his possession the candidate is sure of success. The day -in which the honour is to be conferred arrives; he appears in the -Convocation House, he takes an abundance of oaths, pays a sum of money in -fees, and, after kneeling down before the Vice-Chancellor, and whispering -a lie, rises up a Bachelor of Arts."[21] - -In order, therefore, to obtain the coveted privilege of going in for all -these learned and difficult examinations, an Undergraduate had to calm his -impatience and enjoy himself as best he could for four years. Then, having -succeeded in getting himself fairly comfortably in debt, having learned -how to string off a sonnet to the reigning toast and drink himself under -the table, he was esteemed ripe for the whispering of a lie, and was -conveniently fitted out with a degree. What more simple? - -"And now, if he aspires at higher honours (and what emulous spirit can sit -down without aspiring at them?) new labours and new difficulties are to be -encountered during the space of three years. He must _determine_ in Lent, -he must _do quodlibets_, he must _do austens_, he must declaim twice, he -must read six solemn lectures, and he must be again examined in the -sciences, before he can be promoted to the degree of Master of Arts. None -but the initiated can know what _determining_, doing _quodlibets_, and -doing _austens_ mean. I have not room to enter into a minute description -of such contemptible minutiae. Let it be sufficient to say, that these -exercises consist of disputations of syllogisms, procured and uttered -nearly in the same places, time, and manner, as we have already seen them -in doing generals. There is, however, a great deal of trouble in little -formalities, such as procuring sixpenny _liceats_, sticking up the names -on the walls, sitting in large empty rooms by yourself, or with some poor -wight as ill-employed as yourself, without anything to say or do, wearing -hoods and a little piece of lambskin wool on it, and a variety of other -particulars too tedious and too trifling to enumerate." - -The eighteenth-century lad became an Undergraduate on condition of -subscribing to a lie, and was sent down as a not undistinguished man after -seven years by pronouncing another in the ear of the Vice-Chancellor. - -"As university degrees are supposed to be badges of learning and merit, -there ought to be some qualifications requisite to wear them, besides -perjury, and treason, and paying a multitude of fees, which seem to be the -three principal things insisted upon in our universities," said Terrae -Filius--and the persistent joker spoke never a truer word. While -discussing the same question with some bitterness he asserted that a -schoolboy has done more learned things for his breaking-up task than were -required of an Oxford man after seven years' residence. He more than bore -out Knox's words as to the custom of making one's examiner drunk and so -avoiding the irksome necessity of being asked awkward questions by him. -"It is also well known," he wrote, "to be the custom for the candidates -either to present their examiners with a piece of gold, or to give them an -handsome entertainment, and make them drunk; which they commonly do the -night before examination, and sometimes keep them till morning, and so -adjourn, cheek by joul, from their drinking-room to the school where they -are to be examined. _Quaere_, whether it would not be very ungrateful of -the examiner to refuse any candidate a _testimonium_ who has treated him -so splendidly over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail'd -upon by bribes?" - -So that in addition to making him drunk and incapable, but not -disorderly--necessarily--the astute candidate, realising that the degree's -the thing, paid him a metaphorical thirty pieces of silver for his -betrayal. Moreover, the collectors, that is to say the Dons who were in -control of the determining, decided the days upon which the candidates -were to present themselves. On certain days called "gracious" days, the -examiners were only required to stay in the schools for half the usual -time. The consequence was, explained Terrae, "The collectors having it in -their power to dispose of all the schools and days in what manner they -please, are very considerable persons, and great application is made to -them for gracious days and good schools; but especially to avoid being -posted or dogg'd, which commonly happens to be their lot who have no money -in their pockets." - -The statues of course forbade collectors to receive presents, but a wink -is as good as a nod, and it was customary for every determiner upon -presenting himself to give the collector a "broad or half a broad." In -return for this douceur "Mr Collector," said Amhurst, "entertains his -benefactors with a good supper and as much wine as they can drink, besides -gracious days and commodious schools. I have heard that some collectors -have made four score or an hundred guineas of this place." - -The conclusion which is inevitably arrived at is that the examinations -for, and in fact the whole question of obtaining a degree, were a farce -and a sham, and that the authorities cared little who got one so long as -they received their fees and were left in peace to smoke and tope in the -common rooms. - -The attendance at college exercises seems to have been equally dilatory. -Gibbon said that the Magdalen College exercises were futile and a waste of -time. He was tacitly allowed to stay away from them. The vindicator of -Magdalen, thinking to nail Gibbon down, went to the trouble of enumerating -term by term the exercises which the Undergraduates were supposed to -perform. As interesting reading it is worthy of quotation, but as a _coup -de grace_ to Gibbon it is absurd. If all Magdalen men were bound to -attend, why was Gibbon allowed to absent himself, or, if not allowed, why -was he not hauled over the coals?--and it is ridiculous to suppose that -Gibbon's example was not followed by scores of fellow collegians. The -present-day "colleckers," held terminally, are, more or less, in the -nature of a joke, but in those days, in spite of Hurdis's burning loyalty -to Magdalen, the following exercises which correspond to them are -fearsome-sounding enough, but were more often than not unattended. "At the -end of every term, from his admission till he takes his first degree, -every individual Undergraduate of this college must appear at a _public -examination_ before the President, Vice-President, Deans, and whatever -Fellows may please to attend; and cannot obtain leave to return to his -friends in any vacation, till he has properly acquitted himself according -to the following scheme. - -"In his _first_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first term, in _Sallust_ and the _Characters of Theophrastus_. - - "In the second Term, in the first six books of Virgil's _Aeneis_ and - the first three books of Xenophon's _Anabasis_. - - "In the third Term, in the last six books of the _Aeneis_ and the last - four books of the _Anabasis_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the Gospels of St Matthew and St Mark, on - which sacred books the persons examined are always called upon to - produce a collection of observations from the best commentators. - -[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL ENTRANCE TO THE CLOISTERS AT MAGDALEN.] - -"During his _second_ year, the Undergraduate must make himself a -proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in Caesar's _Commentaries_, and the first six books - of Homer's _Iliad_. - - "In the second Term, in _Cicero de Oratore_, and the second six books - of the _Iliad_. - - "In the third Term, in _Cicero de Officiis_ and the _Dion Hal. de - structura Orationis_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the gospels of St Luke and St John, producing - a collection of observations from commentators as at the end of the - first year. - -"During his _third_ year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in the first six books of Livy and Xenophon's - _Cyropaedia_. - - "In the second Term, in Xenophon's _Memorabilia_, and in Horace's - Epistles and Art of Poetry. - - "In the third Term, in _Cicero de natura Deorum_, and in the first, - third, eighth, tenth, thirteenth and fourteenth of Juvenal's - _Satires_. - - "In the fourth Term, in the first four epistles of St Paul, producing - collections as before. - -"During his _fourth_ and last year he must make himself a proficient-- - - "In the first Term, in the first six books of the 'Annals of Tacitus,' - and in the _Electra_ of Sophocles. - - "In the second Term, in Cicero's 'Orations' against Catilina, and in - those of Ligarius and Archias; and also in those Orations of - Demosthenes which are contained in Mounteney's edition. - - "In the third Term, in the 'Dialogues' of Plato published by Dr - Forster, and in the _Georgics_ of Virgil. - - "In the fourth Term, in the remaining ten Epistles of St Paul and the - Epistles general, producing collections as before." - -The above is undoubtedly a little programme guaranteed to keep the average -Undergraduate fairly busy in the use of midnight oil. But--how odd it is -that there is ever a "but"--the excited vindicator rather spoilt matters -and lessened the terrors of the programme by stating in his preliminary -paragraph that only those Dons were present "who may please to attend!" -Having digested already some few facts concerning the habits and hobbies -of the eighteenth-century Don, as well as the liberty accorded to -gentlemen commoners, there is no need to waste sympathy on "every -individual Undergraduate" of Magdalen. He merely lowered the right eyelid, -tapped the left nostril with the left index digit and "obtained leave to -return to his friends in any Vacation," with the greatest ease and speed -and the most cordial of farewells to the President, Vice-President, Deans, -and any of the Fellows who cared to attend. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -'VARSITY LITERATURE - - Present-day ineptitude--Jackson's _Oxford Journal_--Domestic - intelligence--Election poems--Curious advertisements--Superabundance - of St John's editors--Terrae Filius. - - -There is some indefinable element in the atmosphere of Oxford which has -always excited an itch for writing. The sister university can, of course, -point to many sons whose names stand high in the literary firmament, but -they do not amount to a tithe of the number of great writers who have -passed through Oxford. Oxford may be the home of lost causes, but she is -also the cradle for infant pens. Generations of pens splutter their first -incoherencies behind the comparative shelter of the city walls through -which the harsh criticism of maturer writers cannot penetrate. In stilted -phraseology and doubtful grammar they cover numberless sheets with -emotional outpourings. There may be future literary geniuses hidden among -them, but from those early imitative strivings it is difficult to single -out even one. They are novices who humbly apprentice themselves to the -profession of letters. From time to time some quite brilliant piece of -work throws up more vividly the amateurishness of the rest. Such meteoric -flashes are, however, rare, and thus the general standard does not rise -above mediocrity. It is because all Undergraduate pens are very young and -inexperienced that the present-day 'varsity papers can make no claim to -literary distinction. To their credit be it said that they do not. They -are content to remain just 'varsity papers--which is synonymous with -saying that they are either tediously over-academic or peculiarly inane; -that their light articles are excellent imitations of the halfpenny comic -papers, that their serious efforts are most praiseworthy for their -capacity for inflicting boredom, and that their editorials border upon the -inept. - -It is not an unknown thing for a present-day Undergraduate paper, which is -supposedly conducted _by_ Undergraduates _for_ Undergraduates to be owned -and financed by a local tradesman. He, being thus in supreme command, -maintains a private blue pencil, and, obsessed by the idea that because he -sells pens and inks he is therefore a man of parts and literary -consideration, rules the poor devil of an Undergraduate editor with a rod -of iron. What is the result? It is that the average 'varsity paper is -composed of childish leaders edited by the financier; a series of vastly -foolish and unentertaining remarks which may or may not have been heard in -the Broad; pages of notes which are half-frightened comments on the week's -doings written invariably by critics who have not sufficient pluck to say -that they consider the person or thing under criticism to be either -thoroughly bad or supremely excellent; a mawkish account of the speeches -delivered in the Union Society's Debates, written with the condescending -patronage of the old stager, by some self-satisfied ex-official, himself a -thoroughly bad speaker and so totally unqualified to criticise; a -collection of dramatic criticisms of the bi-weekly pieces at the New -Theatre, scribbled by some musical comedy enthusiast who, in addition to a -total ignorance of the drama, has been warned by the financier of the -paper to say nice things however bad the play or the acting in order to -secure free seats from the theatre; and, lastly, a fulsome and -objectionably personal article which purports to be a biography of a -well-known Oxford man. - -Perhaps under these Gilbertian conditions it is no wonder that the -literary efforts of Georgian times put those of the present to shame. In -the eighteenth century university journals were at least independent. They -looked for no pecuniary assistance from local ironmongers or haberdashers. -The consequence is that although the contributors were beginners whose -efforts were the result of the itch for writing brought on by that -indefinable element which was in the atmosphere of Oxford then as now, -their work was unhampered by any outside considerations. The literary -standard was not of the highest order. How could it be when the writers -were lads varying from eighteen to twenty years of age? It was, however, -higher than that of to-day. On turning over the various 'varsity papers of -two centuries ago, an uncomfortable sensation of that most unusual -emotion--humility--inevitably results, because there is undoubtedly found -in them much that is witty, fearless, original, vivid, and entertaining. - -In those days the editor drew up a scheme for running his paper, and -adhered to it in defiance of Don and man. Now, however, in his frantic -efforts to keep life in his moribund sheet, the editor does not see that -his copy is good and worth printing, copy guaranteed to sell largely. That -is not the idea. The only way to secure financial soundness is, he finds, -to pander to the advertisers by the shifty method of writing puffs for -cigarettes, soaps, wines, and so on, in a column which bears a disguised -and misleading heading, and which is an insult to the intelligence of his -youngest reader. - -In analysing the university journals of the eighteenth century I will -begin with the year 1753, when the inhabitants of Oxford and the -surrounding counties were enlivened by Jackson's _Oxford Journal_. As to -its make-up the editor announced that, "This paper will be more complete -than any that has hitherto appeared in this Part of the Kingdom. For -besides the Articles of News, Foreign and Domestic, in which we shall -endeavour to surpass every other Paper, our Situation will enable us to -oblige our readers with a particular account of every Transaction relating -to the present Opposition in Oxfordshire, as also with a Variety of -curious Pieces in Prose and Verse, on both sides of the Question; which no -other Paper can procure." Having made this declaration of his _modus -operandi_ Jackson adhered to it rigidly and fully. His columns of foreign -news were stocked with items of note and interest. Foreign politics, wars, -rumours of wars, agricultural depressions or rises were all included, and -came from the uttermost parts of the earth. The domestic intelligence -covered the movements of the King and royal family, meetings of celebrated -London societies, and chatty descriptions of assaults and batteries. In -one issue there was a sporting account of how "a young man ran from Queen -Street, Cheapside, to Hornsey Wood, and back again, in one Hour and four -minutes." The next paragraph related that "the same Morning was found -drowned in the River, William Andrew, a Master Taylor in Spital Fields. -His watch and Money, with two Rings on his Finger, were found upon him." -This little tragedy was immediately followed by an incident of comedy -which occurred in the London streets. - -"Between Five and Six o'clock on Sunday Evening an uncommon Scheme was put -in Execution by a Gang of Pickpockets in St James's Park. A Person very -well dressed fixing himself with great Attention, as tho' he saw something -particular in the Air, occasioned a Number of People to enquire the Reason -and join in the Speculation, when he asserted he saw a very bright Star; -and while he was busy in pointing out the Constellation to the Spectators -several of them lost their handkerchiefs, but the Star gazer got off." - -Jackson's news columns were every bit as full in comparison as the London -papers to-day. With politics, too, he dealt very fully. In a short and -pithy editorial, however, he assured his readers that his own political -views did not count--he was merely running the paper. This, odd as it may -seem, was sound diplomatic policy, because in those days, with -ever-changing party feeling, it was a mere matter of five minutes to issue -an injunction, stop the press, and confiscate the whole plant. Devoted as -he was to political interest Jackson printed many of the promised "curious -Pieces of Prose and Verse." - - "RECEIPT TO MAKE A VOTE. - - "_By the cook of Sir J. D----d._ - - "Take a Cottager of Thirty shillings a Year, tax Him at Forty; Swear - at Him; Bully Him; take your business from Him; Give Him your business - again; make Him drunk; Shake Him by the Hand; Kiss his Wife, and he is - an Honest Fellow. - - "_N.B._--The above Cook will make Affidavit before any Justice of the - Peace, that this Receipt has been try'd on the Body of Billy S---- and - several others in the Neighbourhood of K--rtle--n, and never failed of - Success." - -The other political contribution took the form of an election song, the -sort of thing that the Undergraduates of those times would seize upon and -parade the streets of the university, chanting right lustily in gangs. - - "ADVICE TO FREEHOLDERS. - - "Ye honest Freeholders, bestir all your stumps; - For all now depends upon who turns up Trumps. - Be sure that you chuse - Neither Placemen nor Jews. - Nor such as are likely their trust to abuse. - To the devil you're sold if the Conj'rer prevails; - If Israel's Black Seed, beware of your Tails. - - _Chorus._ - - "Alas! that poor Britons should lose for their Sins - Their Liberties, Properties and their Fore-Skins." - -In addition to such contributions in prose and verse, the columns of the -Journal were open to any keen correspondent who cared to air either his -views or his grievances--an opportunity of which the fullest advantage was -taken. In every issue urgent appeals and exhortations to voters and -freeholders appeared over various names. The advertisement columns, such -as they were, contained frequent announcements of the publication of -political pamphlets addressed to the "Gentlemen, Clergy, and Freeholders -of the country of Oxford." These columns contained also the most curious -hotch-potch of unexpected posts and requests, such as: - - "TO BE DRUNK FOR BY CANDLE, - - "AT WILL'S COFFEE-HOUSE, IN OXFORD, ON WEDNESDAY NEXT, - - "A LIVING, - - "Worth near _Thirty Pounds_ per Annum, besides Surplice fees and other - emoluments. None but True Blue Parsons to drink for it. Three - Gentlemen with White Wigs and Red Faces are already entered. - - "_N.B._--Very soon will be ate for at the same place, a tollerable - _Curacy_, by those who never get a Dinner but of a Sunday. Codd and - Oyster Sauce will be the Subject for this trial. Mr B--lst--ne is - excepted against in both Cases as he will spoil Sport." - -Another frequently-appearing notice was an advertisement of a booklet of -advice to new-married persons, or the art of having beautiful children. -This was surrounded by bills of races, cock fights, arrivals of new -dancing masters, who addressed themselves to the nobility and gentry in -and about Oxford, quack medicines and ointments which were a never-failing -remedy for the itch, announced "by the King's authority. _N.B._--One box -is sufficient to cure a grown person, and divided, is a cure for two -children." - -For the rest it was the receptacle for articles of every nature from all -and sundry. Warton left his antiquarian researches to afford himself a -little relaxation by writing for it a version of Gray's _Elegy_ up to -date, or an appreciation of Ben Tyrell's mutton pies. From the various -coffee-houses Jackson received the wonderful effusions of the Bucks of the -first head, sonnets to Sylvia's eyelashes, poems in praise of Oxford ale, -and even an occasional Latin verse. "Old Lochard, the newsman," says J. R. -Green in his delightful Oxford chapters, "who, bell in hand, hawked the -Journal through the streets, owed to his college patrons not only the -antiquated cane and rusty grizzle wig, which they had thrown by after ten -years' service of the tankard at buttery hatch, in return for quick -despatches; but the merry rhymes that every Christmas drew a douceur from -the tradesman, a slice of sirloin and a cup of October from the squire, or -a dram from Mother Baggs."[22] - -In the Journal's own war paean:-- - - "Each vast event our varied page supplies, - The fall of princes or the rise of pies; - Patriots and squires learn here with little cost - Or when a kingdom or a match is lost; - Both sexes here approved receipts peruse, - Hence belles may clean their teeth or beaux their shoes, - From us informed Britannia's farmers tell - How Louisburgh by British thunders fell; - 'Tis we that sound to all the Trump of Fame, - And babes lisp Amherst's and Boscawen's name. - All the four quarters of the globe conspire - Our news to fill, and raise your glory higher." - -Throughout almost the entire eighteenth century the editorial chairs of -the different periodicals seem to have been filled for the most part by St -John's men. Terrae Filius appeared first in 1721 under the guidance of -Nicholas Amhurst of St John's. In 1789 _The Loiterers_, a literary weekly, -was launched before the public by James Austen of St John's. His brother, -H. T. Austen of the same college, materially assisted him by contributing -a number of delightful imaginative articles. This paper was filially -dedicated by the editor to the President and Fellows of his college, and -ran successfully for two years. The present-day members have done their -best to maintain the literary traditions of this college, for that nine -days' wonder, the _Tuesday Review_, was edited and run by two rash men of -St John's. - -Amhurst took it upon himself to fill the post of cat-o'-nine-tails to the -University, and in his "secret history" lashed at everybody and thing that -was not to his liking, or that seemed to him to constitute in any way an -abuse. He discovered for himself, in all their abundance, the manifold -troubles of an editor, but was not to be coerced or cajoled into anything -that he did not consider fit and proper. - -"In a work of this nature," he wrote in the preface to the second edition -of Terrae Filius, "it is very hard to please any, and impossible to please -all. The different tempers and tastes of men cannot relish the same style -or manner of writing any more than the same dish or the same diversion: -fops love romances; pedants love jargon; the splenatic man delights in -satire; and the gay courtier in panegyric; some are pleased with poetry; -others with prose; some are for plain truths, and some for disguise and -dissimulation. I was aware of this when I began, and, in my second paper, -reserved to myself a liberty to be in what humour I pleased, and to vary -my manner as well as my subject, hoping thereby to please most sorts of -readers; but I quickly found myself disappointed in my expectations, -having often received, by the same post, complaints from some of my -correspondents, that I was too grave for the character of Terrae Filius; -and from others, that I affected levity too much for one who styled -himself a reformer. In answer to both of the objections I shall beg my -readers to consider that as, on one hand, it ought not to be expected that -a man should keep his face upon the broad grin for half a year together; -so, on the other, I cannot apprehend that it is at all necessary for a -reformer to be a puritan, always in the dumps, and always holding forth -with a dismal face and a canting tone:-- - - "'... ridiculum acri - Fortis et melius magnas plerumque secat res.' - -"... I can see nothing in it to repent of, but the want of sufficient -abilities to treat a subject of such general importance in the manner -which it deserves. But I hope the reader will excuse some imperfections, -when he considers the nature of my stunted education, that I was allow'd -to continue but three years at Oxford, and was not twenty-four years of -age when I compleated this undertaking." - -In self-explanation Terrae Filius started off his campaign with sundry -paragraphs calculated to make the authorities uneasy as to their own -future safety, and to cause Undergraduates to champion him against them at -all hazards. - -"It has, till of late," he explained, "been a custom, from time -immemorial, for one of our family to mount the rostrum at Oxford at -certain seasons, and divert an innumerable crowd of spectators, who -flock'd thither to hear him from all parts, with a merry oration in the -fescenine manner, interspersed with secret history, raillery, and sarcasm, -as the occasions at the times supply'd him with matter. If a venerable -head of a college was caught snug a bed with his neighbour's wife; or -shaking his elbows on a Sunday morning; or flattering a prime minister for -a bishopric; or coaxing his bedmaker's girl out of her maidenhead; the -hoary old sinner might expect to hear of it from our lay-pulpit the next -Act. Or if a celebrated toast and a young student were seen together at -midnight under a shady myrtle tree, billing like two turtle doves, to him -it belonged, being a poet as well as an orator, to tell the tender story -in a melancholy ditty, adapted to pastoral music." - -Claiming to follow the precedents established by his old-time -predecessors, Terrae Filius set about showing up the scandalous old Heads, -disguised in thinly-veiled names. As a consequence he was many times -prohibited by Vice-Chancellors and preached down, and cordially loathed -and execrated by all the college Heads and Fellows of his time, whom he -attacked either directly or indirectly. - -"Why should a poor Undergraduate," he asked, "be called an idle rascal, -and a good-for-nothing blockhead, for being perhaps but twice at chapel in -one day; or for coming into college at ten or eleven o'clock at night; or -for a thousand other greater trifles than these; whilst the grey-headed -doctors may indulge themselves in what debaucheries and corruptions they -please, with impunity, and without censure? Methinks it could not do any -great hurt to the universities if the old fellows were to be jobed at -least once in four or five years for their irregularities, as the young -ones are everyday, if they offend." - -Abuses of such a nature are long dead, and a Terrae Filius to-day would -rapidly die of starvation by reason of the lack of matter. Then, however, -he not only lived, but waxed fat on the news he ferreted out--rather in -the manner of a leech applied to a festering sore. Advertisements to him -meant nothing. They were unsought, and would have been refused if -offered. He was _pro bono publico_, ever ready with advice, satire, -criticism, explanation, and always humour. His pen was untiring in writing -a subject up or down, according to its merits or demerits. Political, -religious, academic, and social abuses were thrown on to the screen -fearlessly. His paternal advice to freshmen, although written in a vein of -biting irony, was, nevertheless exactly suited to the times, and, if -followed unswervingly, must assuredly have been of vast assistance in -coping with the wily, time-serving sculls and beer-swilling tutors. His -advice as to their morale was penned with his tongue in his cheek; but in -substance it was none the less straight and praiseworthy. His political -views were consistent and very strenuous, and the opposition received a -royal scourging from his stinging and lengthy lashes. His contempt for -Smarts was only exceeded by his scorn for drink-soddened, incapable -Fellows, and the scandalous manner in which they neglected the statutes -and allowed everything to run to seed. His boldness in choice of subjects -was unparalleled, the outspoken manner of setting them forth absolutely -inimitable. The results achieved by his work must have been considerable, -though to a large extent unperceived publicly, because a new leaf turned -frankly and openly would have been an avowal of guilt on the part of the -persons concerned. The proof that he was largely read lies in the fact -that he was preached about in no measured terms in public pulpits, -prohibited by various authorities, roasted by aggrieved parties in -coffee-and ale-houses, and, in fact, was a household word on every one's -tongue. - -A lengthy disquisition upon the way in which the truth was mangled, -disguised, covered up, and turned about by priests, statesmen, and every -"old libertine in authority" was followed by the ensuing declaration:-- - -"I, Terrae Filius, a free-thinker, and a free-speaker, highly incensed -against all knavery and imposture, and not thinking _Truth_ such a -terrible enemy to religion and good order, as it has been represented, do -hereby declare war against all cheats and deluders, however dignified, or -wheresoever residing; the fear of obloquy and ill-usage shall not deter me -from this undertaking, nor shall any considerations rob me of the liberty -of my own thoughts and my own tongue. In the pursuit of this design, I -shall not confine myself to any particular method; but shall be grave and -whimsical, serious or ludicrous, prosaical or poetical, philosophical or -satirical, argue or tell stories, weep over my subject, or laugh over it, -be in humour or out of humour, according to whatever passion is uppermost -in my breast whilst I am writing." - -In token of this promise there stands the truth on every page, however -bedded in satire, philosophy, poetry, or ridicule. He saw to it that his -daily path was studded with nails, and in his passage he hit them each one -on the head. As a result the pages of Terrae Filius are from cover to -cover a source of immense joy. For an example of bold and delightful -satire I cannot find a better instance than the _ne plus ultra_ in skits -on the Poetical Club. Of course he gave the president and learned -professors who composed it fictitious names, but it is palpable that those -caricatured recognised themselves, and, if they had the least grain of -humour in their compositions, they must have enjoyed it thoroughly. As, -however, the question of their possessing a sense of humour is open to -grave doubts--a fact proved by the very formation of the club and the -secrecy of its doings--it is infinitely more likely that the club writhed -under his well-pointed jibes and consigned the author to eternal -perdition. Then, too, the bland and smiling manner in which he turned -aside the violent pulpit denunciations of his hard-hit victims is -exhilarating to a degree. He received, for instance, a letter from an -anonymous friend (hidden behind the title "John Spy") who sent him an -account of the heated charges laid at his door by a certain grave college -Head. Terrae printed the letter and smilingly pointed out the reasons of -the man's wrath in a tone of charming tolerance. - -"You see, reader," he said, "that I had no sooner undertaken this task but -I raised a nest of holy wasps and hornets about my ears; an huge old -drone, grown to an excessive bulk upon the spoils of many years, has -thought fit, you see, to call me terrible names before his learned -audience, at St Mary's Church in Oxford; it is, it seems, an hellish -attempt to bring about a reformation of the universities; and it is daring -and impious in me to style myself a free-thinker and a free-speaker: poor -man! poor man! What! art afraid I should tell tales out of school, how a -certain fat doctor got his bedmaker with child, and play'd several other -unlucky pranks? That would be daring and impious indeed. No, no, never -fret thyself, man; I love a pretty woman myself, and I never desire any -better usage in this world than as I do unto others to be done unto -myself." - -Turning to politics, Terrae Filius summed up the attitude of the -authorities in Oxford in one short paragraph--which was made a hundred -times more severe by his assertion upon honour that religion received the -same treatment at their hands. - -"In politics my advice is the same as in religion--not to let your upstart -reason domineer over you, and say you must obey this king or that king; or -you must be of this party, or that party; instead of that, follow your -leaders; observe the cue, which they give you; speak as they speak; act as -they act; drink as they drink, and swear as they swear; comply with -everything which they comply with; and discover no scruples which they do -not discover." - -Upon a Whig and a Tory enquiring what was their exact position, he told -them that one day the Whig might be safe and have things all his own way, -but that the next the certainty of the Tory's being uppermost was -absolute. Finally he urged upon them that the only safe method of -proceeding was to employ what are called nowadays the Winston tactics--one -side one day, the other the next, according to one's greater individual -advantage. - -He dealt exhaustively with the peculiarly slack method of conducting, or -rather the practical non-existence of, university examinations. On reading -his account alone, it would very naturally be supposed that he was drawing -the long bow, caricaturing the existing conditions out of all shape and -possibility of recognition, and we laugh unreservedly. But further study -of other writers' criticisms of the times very quickly turns our smile -into a gasp of amazement. Terrae Filius was not caricaturing. All his -absurd and quite impossible relations of bribery and corruption were true. -It is precisely the same with all his papers. He has wisely written them -in the style of caricatures, and at times, no doubt, has indulged his -humour overmuch; but, on going into his inimitable showings up of drinking -and immoral Dons, political conflicts, university statutes, toasts, -smarts, or any one of the innumerable subjects dissected by him, and then -comparing his work with other eighteenth-century documents, one finds that -Terrae Filius carried out his boast and kept to the truth. - -Is there any man to-day who, at the age of twenty-four, has achieved such -notoriety, done such brilliant work, and proved himself to be such a -master of his craft? - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -'VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The Student--Cambridge included--Its design--The female student--Poem - by Sir Walter Raleigh--Bishop Atterbury's letter--The manly woman. - - -On the first day of January, 1750, there appeared the first number of _The -Student_. The sub-title read: _The Oxford Monthly Miscellany_. For two -years it ran successfully, and, at the beginning of the second, it was -found that Cambridge took such an interest in its doings that the -sub-title was enlarged. It then read: _The Oxford and Cambridge Monthly -Miscellany_. In make-up it differed entirely from Terrae Filius, and -contended to be a far more serious and high-minded journal, aiming not so -much to amuse as to teach its readers. Thus it contained Latin prose and -verse, religious discussions, essays, medical dissertations, and a -carefully selected variety of lighter matter in English prose and verse. -The tone of the work may be gathered from the sedate foreword to the -public. - -"In the course of this work particular care will be taken that nothing be -inserted indecent or immoral, and as we are determined to give umbrage to -no Person or Party, all political disputes and whatever is offensive to -Good Manners will of consequence be avoided. Our design being only to -promote learning in general, we shall not confine ourselves to any -particular subject, but occasionally comprehend all the branches of polite -literature. Each number will consist of such originals in Prose and Verse -as we hope will prove agreeable to our readers. And tho' we might with -impunity comply with the common practice of preying indiscriminately on -the labours of others, yet we shall not to our knowledge publish any thing -that has been printed before, or without the consent of the respective -authors: for the one we consider as a fraud upon the publick, and the -other an invasion of private property. These considerations we presume -will remove any prejudice which the Learned may conceive against our -undertaking, and induce them not only to encourage, but assist us in the -prosecution of it. And as we must necessarily depend on the publick for -the Success of our work, we hope it will meet with their indulgence. No -endeavours on our part shall be wanting to render it worthy their -approbation; and we no longer desire their favour, than while we continue -to deserve it." - -In the first number there were some five or six pages of Latin verse, a -translation of the chorus at the end of the second act of _Hecuba of -Euripides_, an elegy in imitation of Tibullus, an article on "Intellectual -Pleasure"--the author of which was requested, in an editorial note, to -favour the paper with his further reflections--the speech of John Fell, -D.D., Bishop of Oxford, at his Triennial Visitation in the year 1685, an -article entitled "Leaning of no Party," and one or two lighter imaginative -contributions, such as "The Speech of an Old Oak to an Extravagant Young -Heir as He was going to be Cut Down," and an "Address to an Elbow Chair -Lately New Cloath'd." As there were no advertisements to assist the -editors with the printing bills, it speaks well for the literary taste of -the period that the paper lived two full years--the period to which the -editors limited themselves at the outset. Such a periodical at Oxford in -the year of grace 1911 would prove to be a hopeless anachronism. It would -arrive at a circulation of three copies per month--a free copy to the -British Museum, another to the Bodleian, and the third to the editor's -mother. The Undergraduates might finger it casually on the bookshop -counter, and the Dons read the first number on account of its novelty, but -it would die a speedy death unless by the second issue the editor -announced its coalition with the comic paper whose editor runs his -motor-car on the earnings of butcher and express messenger boys. - -One of the lighter features of _The Student_ was a series of letters from -Cambridge written by the female student. Her epistles were full of humour, -and she poked fun at the Undergraduates quietly, and in a manner not -wholly unlike Terrae Filius. Perhaps it is unfair to compare her efforts -to those of Amhurst, because as he jested and quipped in every conceivable -style and way, any one coming after him might be accused, quite unjustly, -of plagiarism. That the female student was not guilty of any false modesty -is easily to be seen from the account of herself in her preliminary -letter; while the care with which the editors of _The Student_ guarded the -decencies and the moralities ensured that she did not in any way cause a -breach in them by her broad-minded and outspoken contributions. She began -by claiming the student as a brother, a claim based upon her birth, -education, and the whole conduct of her life. She asserted that she, too, -was a student, having sounded the depths of philosophy and made greater -progress "in academical erudition" than most of the Dons whose profound -knowledge consisted in a "little cap with a short tuft and a large pompous -grizzle wig." She was born and brought up in Cambridge in the care of an -aunt. Her studies were directed by a grave Fellow of a college. Her aunt -was so fond of her that she was suffered to "give a loose to her passion -for literature," and the girl absorbed information from curling papers and -the lids of wig-boxes. When she was seventeen her tutor died of a surfeit -occasioned by feeding too freely at a gaudy, and the secret at last came -out that there had been a union between the Don and the aunt for nearly -twenty years. The aunt became, therefore, a mother, and she produced -documents to show that the Don's possessions were hers. The result of the -selling of the deceased's effects did not raise the good woman to a -condition of luxury. - -"However," said the girl, "she resolved to continue at Cambridge on my -account, and we lived together in a manner much genteeler than our fortune -would afford. My person (which, by-the-bye, I took as much pains to -cultivate as my mind) now began to be cried up as much as my parts. I was -a charming, clever, sweet, smart, witty, pretty creature, in short, I was -as much feared for my wit as ador'd for my beauty. From hence I had vanity -to fancy I could have anybody I pleased, and had therefore resolved within -myself to be run away with by a nobleman, or a baronet at least." - -But this witty, pretty creature unfortunately over-estimated her -possibilities. The next ten years passed in a round of gaiety which took -the form of courtship by no one under the rank of gentleman commoner. With -the baronet in view, however, such mere mortals fell in their hundreds. -Some she rejected "because a better might offer, some because they had too -much sense; others because they had too little; this was too old, that too -young," and, in consequence, she was gradually deserted, as her physical -charms waned, until at last her name was never mentioned "without the -odious reproach of 'she has been' added to it." - -At the moment of writing this first letter she was compelled to work for -her bread and the support of her mother. This she did with her pen, -turning out poems and novels; being, as she informed _The Student_, at -present engaged in "composing sermons for a bookseller, which he designs -to sell for the MS. Sermons of an eminent divine lately deceased, -warranted originals." - -_The Student_, liking the tone of her first letter, encouraged her to -write further, and from time to time she sent in various articles, such as -a scathing criticism of Academical Gallantry, in which she roundly chaffed -all gownsmen for their bragging propensities and gallant follies, and gave -an account of the various Dons and their habits who had laid vain siege to -her heart, and a discussion on the sin of living single, and the fustiness -of old maids--a plight in which she admitted herself to be, though not by -"desire or inclination." - -In spite of the editorial desire to give umbrage to no person or party, -certain of the Bucks seem to have considered her an unamusing, brazen -creature, whose inclusion in _The Student_ was a sad mistake, for she -received the following crushing letter from one of their number. - - "---- Coll., Oxford, _June 11, 1751_. - - "MADAM,--As the character I bear in this University is that of a - profess'd critic-general on pamphlets, and as my opinion is look'd - upon as infallible and oracular in a certain coffee-house frequented - by Wits, where a subscription is carried on for raking together the - dulness of the age, I think I may take the liberty (without being - styled Prig, Fop, Witling, or Poetaster) of transmitting you my full - and candid sentiments on your monthly productions. And first, Madam - Student, with as much laconic politeness as possible, I beg leave to - inform you that you pretend to that choice ingredient of good writing - Humour, without having one syllable of it. In a word, Madam, if you - have any Humour at all, it is that low species of it, never so much as - heard of in Greece and Rome, originally invented by Tom Brown of - blackguard memory, and now first revived by the Female Student. - - "This species (if it may call itself a species), I, myself, in right - of the sublime critical character with which the sensible Men of our - house have invested me, have christen'd Jack-Pudding Humour. To define - it were utterly impracticable. However, thus much may be said of it, - that it is made up of ill-breeding and ill-nature, and discovers a - remarkable want of classical reading, and a relish for authors of true - taste. It treats of subjects of a vague nature, and is (beside its - Jack-pudding affinity) of a mere Jack-lanthorn nature, neither here - nor there; in short, it is a topsy-turvy, rhapsodic, miscellaneous - method of writing. But, to come to the point. What I would recommend - to you is to leave off scribbling, and sit down seriously to sewing. - - "Why, Madam, you are nothing more than a bankrupt in beauty, a mere - discarded toast! I assure you, Mrs Student, you have no more chance of - getting reputation by your pen than you had of getting a husband by - your person.--Yours, - - "FRANK FIZZ-PUFF." - -Whether this letter really caused the good lady to take up sewing in -earnest it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that she was no more -seen in _The Student_--not even to the extent of an indignant feminine -outburst against Mr Fizz-Puff. - -Among the "never before" printed verses which the editor secured for his -columns were some written by Sir Walter Raleigh at Winchester in 1603, as -he lay under sentence of death. They were printed from a manuscript with -due care to preserve the spelling exactly as it was. The editor, however, -was in ignorance of the fact that they had already been published in 1608 -in the second edition of Davison's _Poetical Rhapsody_. - - "Goe, soul, the bodyes gueste, - Upon a thankless arrante, - Fear not to touche the beste, - The truth shall be thy warrante. - Goe, since I needs must dye, - And give them all the lye. - - "Goe, tell the court it glowse, - And shines like painted woode; - Goe, tell the church it shows - What's good, but does no good. - If court and church replye - Give court and church the lye." - -The moribund knight pursued his muse to the thirteenth verse, giving -everybody and everything the lie. The editor of _The Student_, undoubtedly -with the idea of pandering to all tastes, was careful to place these -verses in between a translation of a Latin epigram-- - - "I stole from sweet Gumming two kisses in play, - But she from myself stole myself quite away; - I grieve not I play'd, tho' so cruel the sport; - I'm more pleas'd than griev'd at the hurt." - -and an epistle in verse to Lord Cobham, written by Congrave, while in the -very near neighbourhood, was-- - - "THE HERMAPHRODITE. - - "_From the Latin_ - - "My mother, when she was with child of me, - Consulted heav'n what gender I should be. - Female, cried Mars; Apollo said, a Male; - Neither, quoth Juno; both your judgments fail. - My birth did prove the Goddess in the right; - Nor boy, nor girl, but an Hermaphrodite. - Again she ask'd them what my fate would be. - One said a sword, another said a tree; - Water a third, and they were right all three. - For from a tree I fell upon my sword, - Feet caught in boughs, head dangling in a ford. - Man, Woman, Neither, I at last was found, - Just as the Gods foretold, hang'd, stabb'd, and drown'd." - -A few numbers before that in which the coffee-house wit told the female -student just precisely what he thought of her, the editor received a -letter from another of these gentry at one of the coffee-houses. On behalf -of all his brother Smarts, Mr Harry Didapper took it upon himself to offer -a little friendly advice to the paper. He informed the editor that _The -Student_ was read with keen interest by them all, but that at times it -indulged in boring and pompous articles which, however they pleased the -editor himself, or the cultivated taste of his wig-maker, hosier and wine -merchant, left them angry and disappointed. The Smarts wished to have no -more abstract speculations and religious introspections. They wanted more -brightness and humanity about the paper. Consequently in the next issue -the editor published the following lamentation:-- - - "A RECEIPT FOR THE GOUT. - - "Oh Gout! the plague of rich and great! - Thou cramping padlock of the feet! - Oh Gout! thou puzzling knotty point! - You nick man's frame in every joint; - You, like inquisitors of Spain, - Rack, burn, and torture limbs to pain. - First, miner-like, you work below, - And sap man's fortress by the toe.... - And what is worse, the wounded part - Finds small relief from doctor's art. - Great Wilmot's skill confounded stands - When patient roars ... my toe! my hands!... - 'Tis said that bees, when raging found, - Are charm'd to peace by tinkling sound; - Shrill lullabies in nurse's strain - Asswage the froward bantling's pain, - When cutting teeth, or ill-plac'd pin, - Molest the tender baby's skin, - So when Gout-humours throb and ache, - The present soft prescription take. - In elbow-chair majectick sit - In full high twinge, yet scorn to fret; - Divert the pain with generous wine; - Read news from Flanders and the Rhine; - Hold up the toe like Pope of Rome; - Forbear to scold, and swear, and fume; - Let double flannel guard the part, - To mitigate the dreadful smart; - Wrap round the joint this harmless verse; - And let dame Patience be your nurse." - -Would any doctor in these times prescribe wine as a remedy against gout? -Whether the advice was sound or not, the Smarts appeared to have been -appeased, for there came no further complaints as to the stodginess of the -fare served up to them. - -In the same number of _The Student_ there appeared a letter from Bishop -Atterbury to his son Obadiah, who was up at the House. How the editor -procured it is not recorded, nor is it easy to see why he included it in -his columns. It cannot have been vastly entertaining to a list of -subscribers who devoted most of their time to ale and coffee-houses, or in -dallying with Amaryllis in the shade of Merton Wall. It is greatly -interesting to-day, however, as an example of what an eighteenth-century -parent indicted to his son. The contrast between this letter and the -replies one receives in 1911 in answer to one's brief epistles written, -mostly, solely in order to "touch the dad down for a bit" is not -unstriking. - - "DEAR OBBY,--I thank you for your letter, because there are manifest - signs in it of your endeavouring to excel yourself, and in consequence - to please me. You have succeeded in both respects, and will always - succeed, if you think it worth your while to consider what you write - and to whom, and let nothing, tho' of a trifling nature, pass through - your pen negligently. Get but the way of writing correctly and justly, - time and use will teach you to write readily afterwards. Not but that - too much care may give a stiffness to your style, which ought in all - letters by all means to be avoided. The turn of them should always be - natural and easy, for they are an image of private and familiar - conversation. I mention this with respect to the four or five first - lines of yours, which have an air of poetry, and do therefore - naturally resolve themselves into blank verses. I send you your letter - again, that you may make the same observation. But you took the hint - of that thought from a poem, and it is no wonder therefore, that you - heightened the phrase a little when you were expressing it. The rest - is as it should be; and particularly there is an air of duty and - sincerity, that if it comes from your heart, is the most acceptable - present you can make me. With these qualities an incorrect letter - would please me, and without them the finest thoughts and language - would make no lasting impression upon me. The great Being says, you - know--my son, give me thy heart--implying that without it all other - gifts signify nothing. Let me conjure you therefore never to say - anything, either in a letter or common conversation, that you do not - think, but always to let your mind and your words go together on the - most slight and trivial occasions. Shelter not the least degree of - insincerity under the notion of a compliment, which, as far as it - deserves to be practis'd by a man of probity, is only the most civil - and obliging way of saying what you really mean; and whoever employs - it otherwise, throws away truth for breeding; I need not tell you how - little his character gets by such an exchange. I say not this as if I - suspected that in any part of your letter you intended only to write - what was proper, without any regard to what was true; for I am - resolved to believe that you were in earnest from the beginning to the - end of it, as much as I am when I tell you that I am,--Your loving - father, etc." - -The editor of _The Student_ pronounced himself the champion of many and -various causes. For instance, he organised in his columns a fund for the -maintenance of the widows and children of deceased clergy in straightened -circumstances, which did an immense amount of good. His appeal for money -was nobly responded to in Oxford, and widely taken up by the public. -Another matter against which he took up the cudgels was the fondness shown -so largely by the fair sex for indulging in masculine sports in masculine -attire--more particularly hunting. From his account it is clear that a -very great percentage of ladies was horsey to the exclusion of all else, -even, in his eyes, of femininity. - -"I cannot," he wrote in an article occasioned by an amusing letter from a -short-sighted contributor who at dinner addressed his neighbour as Sir, -when all the time it was a lady, who, returning late from a day with the -hounds had had no time to change, "I cannot, indeed, but highly disapprove -not only the habit, but also the cause of it. It makes them appear rough -and manlike: it robs them of all the endearing softness, all the alluring -tenderness, that so captivates and charms the heart. As pity and a certain -degree of timorousness are essentially woven into their constitution, do -they not pervert the very end of their creation, who daringly tempt the -perils of the chace, or exult in the prosecution and death of a poor -harmless animal? If the laws of _decency_ are not broke thro' by such an -unbecoming practice, I am sure, those of _delicacy_ are, which above all -things 'tis the business of the fair to keep up." - -As an example of the unnatural and indelicate results of a woman being -sporting the editor related with pathos the story of one Peggy Atall, who -was brought up, her mother being dead, by her father, a country squire, to -all the "labourious sports of the field." Hunting was, however, her -obsession, and she was noted as the boldest rider in the country. "As she -is an heiress, many a young fox hunter, whose love has been greater than -his prudence, has hazarded his neck and cheaply come off with a dislocated -limb or so, in following her thro' the various perils and hairbreadth -'scapes of the chace." The editor, who had the good fortune to know this -fair Diana, was, fortunately for himself, not in love with her, judging by -the avowedly casual manner in which he visited at her house. But he was -none the less deeply pained that "her whole conversation turns on that -topic. I have often heard her charm a large circle of gaping -fellow-sportsmen with a recapitulation of the feats of the day. She would -descant a whole hour on the virtues of Dreadnought, her own horse, who had -brought her in at the death of a stag, with Tom the huntsman, when every -gentleman on the field was thrown out; concluding with the most exulting -expressions of barbarous joy at seeing the poor beast torn to pieces." He -brought his reflections to an end by strongly urging all his fair-hunting -readers to "lay aside the spirit of the chace together with the cap, the -whip, and _all the masculine attire_." It is more than probable that as -the editor of a modern daily or weekly paper his remarks _a propos_ of -suffragette raids, and all the little delicate ventures in which women -vote-seekers indulge their fancy, would make very bright and spirited -reading. He was evidently born before his time. Be that as it may, he -undoubtedly conducted his paper on popular lines, for he was enabled to -keep it alive during the two years which he had mapped out for himself in -the beginning. Its fame was not local to Oxford and Cambridge. He received -letters of congratulation from Edinburgh, Dublin, and other university -towns--the senders of course enclosing contributions with their letters of -praise! - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -'VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_) - - The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd - advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to the - _Cozeners_ written by Mr Garrick--Visions, fables and moral - tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789. - - -_The Student_ was followed after a lapse of some eighteen years by the -_Oxford Magazine_, a monthly miscellany. Devoted to no one particular -object, the editors declared its columns open to every kind of literary -matter--scientific, historical, antiquarian. Light and merely amusing -subjects were also given a place in its pages. They boasted in addition a -feature which no other periodical had ever included--illustrations. _The -Student_, it is true, had an allegorical engraving as a frontispiece to -each volume, but the _Oxford Magazine_ went one better and had -copper-plates of many of the noteworthy persons and happenings of the day, -which were "made from the most striking subjects." "Satirical and -political cards will be given in each number, executed by the most -ingenious artists; which, it is hoped, will vie, in humour and satire, -with the late celebrated Mr Hogarth's performances." Other features which -the editors dealt with far more enterprisingly than any other papers of -the century were the Drama and the Law Courts. In each number there -appeared a criticism of a Drury Lane production with the cast in full, a -description of the play, the plot given in _precis_ form, and a general -summing up of the merits or demerits of the writing and acting. Each of -these ran to several columns, and in some numbers there were criticisms of -two or three productions. Besides dealing with the Law Courts in the -Domestic Intelligence columns, which acted as a sort of monthly review of -events, there were full reports of some of the important trials of the -time. The editors' foreword was not without interest, giving, as it did, -an exact idea of their plan of campaign. On the title page it was stated -that the magazine was "calculated for general instruction and amusement." -To this end they put forward following the programme:-- - -"Among other subjects of general entertainment, the authors propose to -give, in the course of this magazine, complete systems of every branch of -useful learning, enriched with all the improvements of modern writers. -They do not, however, propose to confine their labours entirely to the -elucidation of the sciences; they propose to give a large account of the -political and other transactions in different parts of the world, -especially in our own country; every remarkable event, every uncommon -debate, and every interesting turn of affairs will be recorded. A copious -and authentic history of foreign and domestick occurrences will also be -given, digested in a chronological series, containing all the material -news of the month. To render this performance agreeable to every class of -readers, care will be taken to furnish it with pieces calculated for -general entertainment. The elegant amusements of literature, the flights -of poetical fancy, and the brilliant sallies of inoffensive wit, shall -find a place in our _Magazine_. In a word, researches into antiquity; -elucidations of ancient writers; criticisms on every branch of literature; -essays in prose and verse; visions, fables, moral tales, etc., will make a -part of this performance. The correspondence of the ingenious is therefore -requested...." - -On the lighter side of the periodical, one of the features was a monthly -collection from contemporary London papers of curious and remarkable -advertisements. They evidently appealed strongly to the supporters of the -paper, as, after the first volume, the editors gave them in greater -number. Some of them, indeed, were not without humour--of the broader kind -then in vogue--as will be seen from the few examples appended:-- - - "A maiden lady, who lately died in Ireland, left two guineas each to - four maidens, aged twenty-five, to be her pall-bearers, each of whom - was to swear she was a maid, before receiving the money; but such is - the detestation in which perjury is held in Ireland, that the old lady - was buried without a pall-bearer.--_Public Advertiser_, July 8." - - "To the Single Women.--A Single Man wants to Lodge, or Lodge and - Board, with a Single Woman whether in business or not; keeps regular - hours, will not give much trouble, but spends many evenings at home; - therefore wishes to meet with a very conversable person and is willing - to pay a _handsome_ price.--_Gazetteer_, Nov. 22." - - "On Thursday last a publican in Shoreditch sold his wife to a butcher - for a ticket in the present lottery, on condition that if the ticket - be drawn a blank he is to have his wife again as soon as the drawing - of the lottery is over.--_Public Advertiser_, Sep. 19." - - "If any real gentleman will oblige a _lady_ of character with _one - hundred pounds_, for six months, on her own bond, the gentleman may - have an advantage, which cannot be mentioned in a public newspaper; it - is desired that none may apply who cannot command the sum - immediately.--Please to direct a line to J. X. at Mr Tomb's No. 72 - Fetter Lane." - - "If Mr ----, lately a Latin master at an academy in town, who has got - a dozen and a half of shirts belonging to Mr Wh--e, does not call on - his guardian in Coleman Street immediately, and give satisfaction for - the said shirts, his name will be advertised with many other - circumstances not to his advantage.--_Daily Advertiser_, Dec. 16." - - "Mrs K---- (who was in one of the front boxes at the representation of - the 'Trip to Scotland') was observed to blush four times behind her - fan, occasioned, it is imagined, at the repetition of the words single - and _double beds_; as it is said to be well known that in her - elopement to Scotland only a _single bed_ was used going and - returning." - -The above are a few specimens of the flowers of wit, printed extensively -at the time in many of the papers, culled from many volumes of the _Oxford -Magazine_. At the end of Volume IX., however, there was found to be no -further desire for them, and they were quietly dropped into the limbo of -forgotten things. The columns thus relieved were filled with anecdotes and -articles of a much less lively but more literary nature. - -The opening article in the first volume was a very serious essay, fully -equipped with examples and quotations from the ancients, on the Power of -the Passions. This was followed by a consideration as to whether genius is -a natural gift or an effect of education. From the great similarity of -style in the two articles, it is extremely probable that they were written -by the same pen. The next ten columns were occupied by a _verbatim_ report -of various speeches made in the Court of King's Bench, and in certain -London clubs. The Surgeon Dentist to His Majesty then contributed a -flowing article on the disorders and deformities of the teeth and gums, in -which mothers might find copious hints as to the teething of their -infants. For the patrons of the Drama, unable to get up to London, there -was "Some Account of the Statesman Foil'd, a Musical Comedy in Two Acts, -composed by Mr Rush; and performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket." -Even in those days it would seem that dramatic critics were of the settled -opinion that their task was never to praise, but only to carp and pick -holes, for, after giving a description of the play which read very -amusingly and well, the critic concluded by saying that although "several -of the songs are very prettily set, they are undoubtedly inferior to Mr -Rush's former compositions; and the dialogue not remarkable for sentiment -or wit, is often extremely tiresome." - -In whatever spirit the criticisms were written, however, it cannot be said -that the university, only allowed to perform plays after a deal of -discussion and recrimination on the part of the powers that were, did not -take a great interest in the Drama. As the _Oxford Magazine_ proceeded, -more and more space was devoted to the London productions, and whole -scenes which were deemed of literary and dramatic merit were quoted from -them. Many of the songs, too, were published at length. The July number in -1774 contains, for example, "an account of the new comedy called the -_Cozeners_ as it was performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket." The -cast is quoted in full and, besides telling the story of the play in some -three columns, the prologue was printed. - -The critic of the _Magazine_ wrote about it as follows:-- - -"The piece was introduced with an excellent prologue, replete with the -true Attic salt (said to be written by Mr Garrick), and spoken by Mr -Foote, in which he compared himself to a watchman, whose business it is to -watch over the rising vices and follies of the age, and when they come to -a certain height, _knock them down_, by exposing them on the stage. As -nothing ever deserved applause more, so nothing was ever more warmly -received by the audience." Of all the criticisms of the various -productions in whose casts are to be found the names of Mrs Siddons, Mrs -Love, Mr Foote, Mrs Yates, and many other famous actors and actresses of -the time, that of the _Cozeners_ is the most warm and praisegiving of any -printed in the _Magazine_. - -Among the visions, fables, and moral tales promised by the editors, there -was a vivid and detailed description of a nun's taking the veil. The -writer spent himself in explanation of every word and deed that occurred -during the ceremony, but whether the article, which ran through several -issues and was written by a person of the male sex, was considered a -vision, a fable, or a moral tale, it is impossible to say. Whichever it -was, however, it was well observed and highly coloured. Then there -followed a curious little contribution which was labelled a tale, but -which ought surely to have been included in the category of visions or -fables. It was entitled the "Kiss," and came from the German. "When I was -a youth, my father sent me to Paphos to study love, which I there learnt -of a Dryad.... Fair one, you may now learn of me what a Kiss is. The -Nymphs and Dryads never met to dance, without making me one of the party; -for I was dedicated to the God of Love, and everything within me expressed -the sentiment. - -"At this tender age I tasted the most pure pleasure. All Paphos, to me, -seemed to dance; for the little loves danced over my head, and the flowers -danced under my feet. Among the Dryads was one who affected always to -chuse me for her partner; she never failed to smile at me sweetly, to -squeeze my hand, and blush afterwards with all the graces of modesty. And -I squeezed also the hand of the Dryad, and blushed when I danced with her. -Even before Aurora had quitted the ocean I was already in the grove -sporting with my amiable Dryad. - -"Sometimes I surprised her in the groves, where she had retired, amidst -the thickest foliage, and where she wished to be discovered; sometimes she -watched me when I hid myself, and, when she discovered me, fled, and I -pursued in hopes of overtaking her. But, all of a sudden, she would -inclose herself in the bark of an oak, and elude my pursuit. And when I -had sought her long in vain, she used to burst into loud fits of laughter; -then I entreated her to come out of her place of concealment, and -immediately I saw her issue, smiling, from the body of the tree. - -"One day that I was playing with my Dryad in the wood, she tenderly patted -my cheeks and said, 'Press your lips against mine.' I pressed my lips -against hers; but, heavens! what pleasure did I then experience! No, the -honey that flows from Mount Hymettus is not so sweet, nor the fruit of the -vines of Surentum; even nectar, the nectar which Ganymede presents to the -immortal gods, is a thousand times less delicious. - -"Then she again glued her lips to mine. In the intoxication of my -transport, I cried: 'Oh incomparable beauty! tell me the name of this -exquisite pleasure, which glides into my very soul from thy lips, whenever -our lips meet each other?' She answered, with a gracious smile--'a Kiss!'" - -This odd little piece of imaginative writing was printed on the same page -with a sketch of the trial of Samuel Gillam, Esq., for murder! - -It is not easy to conceive that the _Oxford Magazine_ was very popular -among Bucks of the first head, for there were, indeed, none of the -references to toasts, accompanied by frequent sonnets, which occupied so -large a place in the journals earlier in the century. The tone of the -paper was more sedate throughout. There was less of the bottle and -drinking bout. The contributions covered a far wider field of interest. - -The magazine is in some sort a combination of, or rather, perhaps, an -advance upon, _Jackson's Journal_ and _The Student_. The editors united -the ideas of both these periodicals. From the one they obtained the notion -of the monthly summary of events collected from all parts; and from the -other, the idea of illustrations and fiction. The result of this -perfectly-justifiable plagiarism was certainly popular. The magazine ran -for about eight years without financial aid in the form of advertisements, -and at the end of each issue the acknowledgment of contributions, both -articles and illustrations, made a considerable list. Obviously, -therefore, the wide diversity of subjects and the not over-serious form in -which they were served up appealed to a public which hitherto had had to -be satisfied with the half-measures of those previous men who had been -bold enough to undertake the editing of 'varsity papers. - -The beginning of the last decade of the century saw the _debut_ of _The -Loiterer_, which admittedly took its idea from Terrae Filius. Naturally, -it did not resemble it in style--the time for a Terrae Filius was -over--but in so much as Amhurst went no farther than the university gates -for his matter, _The Loiterer_ may be said to have imitated him. -Consequently, the first volume (there were only two) was practically -confined to subjects of academical life. The second volume, however, was -not reserved wholly to university matters--articles of outside interest -being admitted from time to time. The whole work was offered to the world -by the editors as "a rough, but not entirely inaccurate Sketch of the -Character, the Manners, and the Amusements of Oxford, at the close of the -eighteenth century." The paper was hawked at threepence a copy every -Saturday morning--for which price the editors promised, on their word of -honour as gentlemen and authors, to cram it as full of learning, sense, -and wit as they could possibly afford for the money. As a foretaste of the -threepenny wit to come, they stated in their foreword that they hoped to -receive some credit for one thing at least, "that particular orders have -been given to Mr Rann (the publisher) that _The Loiterer_ should regularly -make his appearance at Nine o'clock, in order to be served up with the -bread and butter, crusts and muffins, and enter the room in good company. -We have been the more particular in this circumstance," they continued, -"as it is the only hour, out of the twenty-four, in which there is a -probable chance of finding some of our Brother Loiterers at home, and the -only one in which any of them read: so genteel and so useful indeed is -this love of morning study, that were it not for the necessity of eating -breakfast, and of dressing hair, it is to be doubted whether some of our -numerous fraternity would not, in a short time, forget their letters." - -This serving up with breakfast was a very wise move on the editors' part, -for they knew from experience that it was the only hour when they stood -the least chance of being read--the rest of the day being passed by most -men in the strenuous occupation of killing time. The writer of article -number four in _The Loiterer_ was on his way to a lecture one morning when -he saw a man whom he knew leaning against the college gate with a vacant -expression on his serene countenance. Thinking that the poor fellow did -not know what to do with himself, the writer offered to take him to the -lecture which, he said, was to be remarkably entertaining. The lounger was -most polite in his thanks, and said he should have liked it above all -things, but that at the moment he was extremely busy and really had not -time. The writer, a little surprised, left him and attended the lecture, -returning two hours later to find the man leaning against the same -gate-post in nearly the same attitude. - -In the face of such stagnation who shall deny the wisdom of sending the -paper in with the hot roll, thereby catching the time-killers before they -have begun their day's task? The writer concluded his narrative of ancient -lounging and reflections on the passing of the law whereby Undergraduates -were forbidden under severe penalties to loiter away their time in sitting -on Pennyless Bench, by giving the diary of a week in the life of an -Undergraduate in 1789. It is an extremely excellent and amusing piece of -work, which shows that there were past-masters in the gentle art of -slacking who seriously challenge some of the present-day exponents. - - "DIARY OF A MODERN OXFORD MAN (1789). - - "_Sunday._--Waked at eight o'clock by the scout, to tell me the bell - was going for prayers--wonder those scoundrels are allowed to make - such a noise--tried to get to sleep again, but could not--sat up and - read Hoyle in bed--ten, got up and breakfasted--Charles called to ask - me to ride--agreed to stay until the President was gone to - Church--half after eleven, rode out, going down the High Street saw - Will Sagely going to St Mary's--can't think what people go to church - for. Twelve to two, rode round Bullington Green, met Careless and a - new Freshman of Trinity--engaged them to dine with me--two to three, - lounged at the stable, made the Freshman ride over the Bail, talked to - him about horses: see he knows nothing about the matter--went home and - dressed--three to eight, dinner and wine--remarkable pleasant - evening--sold Rackett's stone horse for him to Careless's friend for - fifty guineas--certainly break his neck--eight to ten, coffee-house, - and lounged in the High Street--Stranger went home to study; am afraid - he's a bad one--engaged to hunt to-morrow and dine with - Rackett--twelve, supped and went to bed early, in order to get up - to-morrow. - - "_Monday._--Racket _rowed_ me up at seven o'clock--sleepy and queer, - but forced to get up and make breakfast for him--eight to five in the - afternoon, hunting--famous run, and killed near Bicester--number of - tumbles--Freshman out on Rackett's stone horse--got the devil of a - fall into a ditch--horse upon him--but don't know whether he was - killed or not. Five, dressed and went to dine with Rackett--Dean had - cross'd his name, and no dinner to be got--went to the Angel and - dined--famous evening till eleven, when the Proctors came and told us - to go home to our colleges--went directly the contrary way--eleven to - one, went down into St Thomas's and fought a raff--one, dragged home - by somebody, the Lord knows whom, and put to bed. - - "_Tuesday._--Very bruised and sore, did not get up till twelve--found - an imposition on my table--mem. to give it to the hairdresser--drank - six dishes of tea--did not know what to do with myself, so wrote to my - father for money. Half after one, put on my boots to ride for an - hour--met Careless at the stable--rode together--asked me to dine with - him and meet Jack Sedley, who is just returned from France--two to - three, returned home and dressed--four to seven, dinner and wine--Jack - very pleasant--told some good stories--says the French women have - thick legs--no hunting to be got, and very little wine--won't go there - in a hurry--seven, went to the stable, and then looked in at the - coffee-house--very few drunken men, and nothing going forwards--agreed - to play Sedley at billiards--Walker's table engaged, and forced to - go to the Blue Posts--lost two guineas--thought I could have beat him, - but the dog has been practising in France--ten, supper at - Careless's--bought Sedley's mare for thirty guineas--think he knows - nothing of a horse, and believe I have done him. Drank a little punch - and went to bed at twelve. - -[Illustration: OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING.] - - "_Wednesday._--Hunted with the Duke of B.--very long run, rode the new - mare, found her sinking, so pulled up in time and swore I had a shoe - lost--to sell her directly--buy no more horses of Sedley--knows more - than I thought he did.--Four, returned home, and as I was dressing to - dine with Sedley, received a note from some country neighbours of my - father's to desire me to dine at the Cross--obliged to send an excuse - to Sedley--wanted to put on my cap and gown--cap broke and gown not to - be found, forced to borrow--half after four to ten, at the Cross with - my _Lions_--very _loving_ evening indeed--ten, found it too bad, so - got up and told them it was against the rules of the university to be - out later. - - "_Thursday._--Breakfasted at the Cross, and walked all the morning - about Oxford with my Lions--terrible flat work--Lions very - troublesome--asked an hundred and fifty silly questions about every - thing they saw. Wanted me to explain the Latin inscriptions on the - monuments in Christ Church Chapel!--Wanted to know how we spent our - time!--forced to give answers as well as I could. Four, forced to give - them a dinner and, what was worse, to sit with them till six, when I - told them I was engaged for the rest of the evening, and sent them - about their business--seven, dropped in at Careless's rooms, found him - with a large party, all pretty much _cut_--thought it was a good time - to sell him Sedley's mare, but he was not quite drunk enough--made a - bet with him that I trotted my poney from Benson to Oxford within the - hour--sure of winning, for I did it the other day in fifty minutes. - - "_Friday._--Got up early and rode the poney a foot pace over to Benson - to breakfast--Old Shrub breaks fast--told him of the bet and showed - him the poney--shook his head and looked cunning when he heard of - it--good sign--after breakfast rode the race, and won easy, but could - not get any money; forced to take Careless's draught; daresay its not - worth two pence; great fool to bet with him. Twelve till three, - lounged at the stable, and cut my horse's tail--eat soup at - Sadler's--walked down the High Street--met Rackett, who wanted me to - dine with him, but could not because I was engaged to Sagely--three, - dinner at Sagely's--very bad--dined, in a cold hall, and could get - nothing to eat--wine new--a bad fire--tea-kettle put on at five - o'clock--played at Whist for sixpences, and no bets--thought I should - have gone to sleep--terrible work dining with a studious man--eleven, - went to bed out of spirits. - - "_Saturday._--Ten, breakfast--attempted to read _The Loiterer_; but it - was too stupid; flung it down and took up 'Bartlett's Farriery'--had - not read two pages before a dun came, told him I should have some - money soon--would not be gone--offered him brandy--was sulky, and - would not have any--saw he was going to be _savage_, so kicked him - downstairs to prevent his being impertinent. Thought perhaps I might - have more of them, so went to lounge at the stables--poney got a bad - cough--and the black horse thrown out two splints--went back to my - room in an ill-humour--found a letter from my father, no money and a - great deal of advice--wants to know how my last quarter's allowance - went--how the devil should I know?--he knows I keep no accounts--do - think fathers are the greatest _Bores_ in nature. Very low-spirited - and flat all the morning--some thought of reforming, but luckily - Careless came in to beg me to meet our party at his rooms, so altered - my mind, dined with him, and by nine in the evening was very happy." - -It is amazing to think how many men there are in this year of grace -nineteen hundred and eleven who, if they should take it into their heads -to keep a diary, would have to write down page after page of exactly the -same stuff, would express exactly the same sentiments about their father, -and whose projects of a lasting reform would be for ever scattered by just -such a careless tap upon their oak. And yet it is written: _Tempora -mutantur_! - -_The Loiterer_ was not sold only to the local public at Oxford. It had a -quite large outside circulation, with agents in London, Birmingham, Bath, -and Reading, and ran for a year and three months. At the end of this -period the authors, the principal ones, revealed their identity and -retired from the editorial pinnacle into the comparative oblivion of their -Fellowships, having cause to congratulate themselves upon no small -success. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -'VARSITY LITERATURE--(_continued_) - - _The Oxford Packet._--_Academia: or the Humours of Oxford._--_The - Oxford Act._--_The Oxford Sausage._--Present and latter day literature - summed up. - - -There were many other minor literary outputs which made their appearance -from time to time through the century, but it would be tedious to analyse -all of them. The outstanding ones were _The Oxford Packet_, _Academia: or -the Humours of Oxford_, _The Oxford Act_, Tom Warton's fighting poem -entitled _The Triumph of Isis_, and _The Oxford Sausage_. - -_The Oxford Packet_ was a purely topical piece of writing containing -heated articles on the burning questions of the moment in Oxford. It was -published in London, "printed for J. Roberts in 1714," with a list of -contents including "(1) News from Magdalene College (Sacheverell's -Inscription on a piece of plate); (2) Antigamus: or a Satire against -Marriage, written by Mr Thomas Sawyer; (3) A Vindication of the _Oxford_ -Ladies, wherein are displayed the amours of some Gentlemen of _All Souls_ -and _St John's Colleges_." - -_Academia_, perpetrated by a woman, Alicia d'Anvers, ridiculed the manners -and customs of the university in a pointed and quite scurrilous manner. It -lived up to its sub-title, however, for it was an extremely humorous piece -of work. - -In 1733 there appeared the _The Oxford Act_, a ballad opera. A crude and -unamusing play, it is nevertheless interesting as containing the germ of -modern musical comedy. The idea of the piece was to satirise university -politics, but the lack of construction and the laboured manner in which -the dramatist introduced his songs and manoeuvred his characters makes it -tedious and rather difficult to appreciate. - -_The Triumph of Isis_ was occasioned by a denunciation of Oxford by a -Cambridge man, William Mason, who was guilty of a poem entitled _Isis_. In -it he taunted Oxford upon the degeneracy of her sons who - - "... madly bold - To Freedom's foes infernal orgies hold." - -This was more than any devoted son of _Alma mater_ could stand. -Accordingly, Tom Warton, stung to a retort, girded up his loins and flung -off _The Triumph of Isis_, in which he hurled ten thousand thunderbolts at -_The Venal Sons of Slavish Cam_. Dr Anderson, who wrote a preface to the -collection of Warton's poems, says, "It is remarkable that though neither -Mason nor Warton ever excelled these performances, each of them as by -consent, when he first collected his poems into a volume, omitted his own -party production."[23] - -It was not until 1764 that _The Oxford Sausage_ was concocted. Its title -is singularly apt. It was a volume of choice scraps--selected pieces in -prose and verse which had already made their appearance in other and -earlier publications. It included several poems by Tom Warton, who edited -_The Sausage_, and contained others from _The Student_ and the _Oxford -Journal_. - -These then are the literary productions which distinguished the eighteenth -century in Oxford. From the numerous excerpts and passages quoted in -preceding chapters it will have been seen that there is not only an -enormous difference between the writing of the eighteenth century and -to-day in style and treatment, but in the method of conducting a paper. -To-day it is quite impossible to call a spade a spade. In those days it -was exactly the opposite. The whole point of writing was to call things by -their proper names. In fact, any other method would have been completely -misunderstood. The morals of the time were not more lax than now--that -would be impossible--but the language employed was, to put it mildly, very -much more unguarded. - -Matters were openly discussed in the drawing-rooms of the eighteenth -century which nowadays are supposed to be whispered in smoking-rooms. -Drunkenness and other kindred vices were held in high esteem. It was "the -thing" for him who had any aspirations to be a man of the world to have a -half dozen bottles of wine to his own cheek at one sitting, and unless he -succeeded in arriving at that state of helplessness which necessitated -bodily assistance from persons unknown, he was a dismal social failure. -Women, whose husbands were carried home night after night, smiled -leniently and did not dream of interfering. Many ladies indeed did not -deny themselves the solace of the bottle, and in the records of the time I -have found more than one reference to women who were well-known, almost -licensed, topers. The question of toasts, too, and the light in which the -university held them, was Gilbertian. The statutes sternly forbade them -under penalty of dire pains and punishments, but for all practical -purposes the statutes were a waste of time. Oxford was famed for her -toasts, and their dealings were not confined solely to the gownsmen but -also to Dons and Heads of colleges, who, far from carrying out the -statutes which they had made, pooh-poohed them and indulged themselves to -their heart's content. - -With such a condition of things it is not very remarkable that the -literature of the time should be characterised by coarseness of language -and ideas. Its humour was of the riper kind which permitted of no -possible misunderstanding. Many of the jokes printed in such periodicals -as the _Oxford Journal_ and the _Oxford Magazine_--both papers in high -repute which circulated among Dons, Undergraduates and residents--would be -quite unprintable to-day even in the most yellow of the sporting papers. -The pen of Amhurst was hampered by no considerations of delicacy or -modesty. Whatever he felt on any subject that he wrote, boldly and without -mincing, and the fact that his articles were read with interest and -delight by male and female alike is proof that there is no blame attaching -to him for scurrility. He was merely in the period. There are also -instances of women who wrote with almost the same degree of frankness as -did Alicia d'Anvers, who had, as I have shown, an immodesty of style -unique in the entire century. She satirised all the manners, customs, -hobbies and vices of the university with flagrant lack of good taste -which, judging by the characteristics of the time, made her poem a great -success. - -In the eighteenth century there were neither advertisements--except in the -_Oxford Journal_, and they were few in number--nor athletic fixtures. The -editors, therefore, had to rely entirely upon the merits of the articles -printed in their paper. Their sole hope of life lay in circulation, and as -they had not then discovered such "adventitious aids" as idols and open -letters, they were forced to do their utmost to make their paper bright -and readable. That they did so is obvious from the great number of -contributors who sent in articles regularly, and that, too, without any -hope of payment. - -From the point of view of journalism there is no paper in Oxford to-day -which can survive a comparison with Terrae Filius. He did not go outside -the university for his subjects, and yet in each paper he was topical, -forcible, and to the point. Beyond this he was amusing, and there was a -sting in each single word which made the unhappy subject of his attack -squirm in his place. He did not indulge in long-winded and abortive -discussions about matters of no interest whatever to the university, such -as are invariably to be seen in twentieth-century papers. He instinctively -hit upon the only subject each week that was before the eye of Oxford, and -in straightforward, pithy language wrote it down, laughed at it, or cried -over it. In whatever spirit he treated it he left nothing more to be said. -He used it up, exhausted it, and turned to the next point. Not having any -advertisers to consider--and he would certainly not have considered them -had they existed--he said what he wanted to say without fear or favour, -and if he did not attain to such financial success as does the milk and -water stuff of to-day, he did establish, beyond all argument, a reputation -which has already survived two centuries. Which of the existing Oxford -journals can hope to compete against such a record? - -However much eighteenth-century writers merit the charge of -coarseness--and it is not laid at their door in the spirit of blame but -merely as an illustration of things as they existed--they undoubtedly -attained a higher literary standard than the Undergraduate writers of -to-day. As, however, I have said that the modern standard does not rise -above mediocrity, I am not paying a very great compliment to the writers -of the Rowlandson period. Such is, however, my intention, for I cannot see -that there is such great brilliance in the eighteenth-century papers as to -justify my launching out into paeans of adulation. In all the publications -of the time there were, as I have shown, some excellent pieces of writing. -The sonnets and epigrams, dashed off at the coffee-houses to the beauties -of the reigning toast, were filled with classical allusions and subtle -parallels. This is somewhat remarkable because the Bloods admittedly never -did any reading. They had no time for it. However likeable and readable -these were, there was no genius, no striking merit in any of them. They -certainly showed more promise than the greater part of the work of -twentieth-century Oxford men--a point which is emphasised by the fact that -our predecessors were generally three or four years younger on going up to -the university. To-day we go up at about nineteen years of age. In those -days it was the fashion for men to arrive in Oxford in their fifteenth or -sixteenth year. - -With the exception of Nicholas Amhurst, from whom I have drawn with so -much pleasure, there can be found no Undergraduate of Georgian times whose -genius, in however crude a form, awoke in the pages of university -literature. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE OXFORD TRADESMAN - - _The Student's_ opinion of one--A Tradesman's poem and its - result--Dodging the dun--Debt and its penalties--Tradesmen's taste in - literature--Advertising and _The Loiterer_--Tick--Dr Newton, - innkeeper--Amhurst's confession--Fathers and trainers of toasts. - - -Like Nemesis, the Oxford tradesman has sooner or later to be reckoned -with. His methods are, and for that matter always were, rather -spider-like. He sets out a beautiful and enticing web in his shop window, -and sits placidly in the darkness of his back parlour to await results. -One after another the Undergraduates, foolish flies, dash in; and then, -when they have been given sufficient time--a year or so--the spider -pounces and demands his just, but frequently exorbitant, dues. Sometimes -he does not get them. Spiders, however, rarely come in for any sympathy. - -The old-time Oxford tradesman was undoubtedly a man of parts. In all the -periodicals of the time are to be found odes, couplets, and prose-writings -all singing his praise. He constituted a factor of importance in the daily -routine of eighteenth-century life. It must, indeed, have been a sick -Smart who did not visit daily his barber and _perruquier_, his -horse-dealer, his tobacco merchant, his mercer and tailor, his -coffee-house. These worthy townsmen seem to have been, in fact, the sole -_raison d'etre_ of the Smart's university career, and their pseudo -erudition and quite exceptional powers were the cause of an enthusiastic -article from the pen of _The Student_. - -"A tradesman of Oxford," he wrote, "is no more like another common -tradesman than some collegians are like other men ... the very sign-posts -express their taste for learning and superiour education. Our mercers, -milliners, taylors, etc., etc., have shewn their nice judgments in the art -of designing, by the many curious emblematical devices that so eminently -adorn the entrances to their shops. How sublime are the signs of our -innkeepers! the Angel, the Cross, the Mitre, the Maidenhead, with many -others, are too well known to need mentioning. A tooth drawer amongst us -denotes his occupation by an excellent poetical distich; a second with -great propriety stiles himself operator for the teeth: and my printer who -sells James's fever powder, Greenough's tinctures, Hoopers' female pills, -and the like, exhibits to our view in large golden letters over his door -the pompous denomination of Medicinal Warehouse. Nor are we at all -surprised to see written in this learned university, tho' over a female -bookseller's door, 'BIBLIOPOLIUM MARIAE,' etc. - -"Not to dwell too minutely on externals, every tradesman with us is a -mathematician, or philosopher, or divine, or critick, and what not? But -they are all to a man particularly famous for their skill in arithmetick. -For my own part I never dealt with one yet who was not thoroughly -practised in addition and multiplication. - -"I know an ale-houseman (he sells an excellent pot of ale) who has made -several experiments in electricity, but without a machine: I know a -grocer, a profound reasoner and speculative moralist, a bookbinder deeply -read in Geography, Chorography, etc., and a glazier, a great -mathematician, who has squar'd the circle several time _all but a little -bit_. A barber has published a cutting poem lately, which is universally -admired, and all his own making. It is not to be doubted that our Oxford -booksellers are excellent criticks. They can tell you the character of a -book by only looking at the title page. My own, in particular, is so fine -a judge of composition, that he begs me not to send anything to the press -till it has been submitted to his correction. Besides, I know he has a -strong desire to begin author himself, but his singular modesty will not -permit him to own it. He has, therefore, prevailed with me to erect a -small box, with a slit, in his door to receive the contributions of those -writers who chuse to be concealed. As I know the man's vanity will oblige -him sometimes to put in his mite, I desire the reader, when he meets with -anything particularly dull, to suppose it written, not by me, but my -bookseller. - -"I have often heard two learned tradesmen chop logick together on the most -sublime topicks. Once, in particular, I was present at a very important -dispute, when a shoemaker (a very honest fellow) affirmed, to the general -satisfaction of his audience, that the world was eternal from the -beginning, and would be so to the end of it. At another time, the -discourse running upon politics, a mercer (no small man, I can assure you) -wonder'd what a duce we would have. 'I'm sure,' says he, 'there's not a -happier Island in England than Great Britain; and a man may chuse his own -Religion, that he may, whether it be Mahometism or Infidelity.' A little -while ago I lent my Smith's harmonicks to my Musick-master, who has since -return'd it, assuring me that it is not worth a farthing; for 'twould -teach me the Thievery mayhap, but as for the Practicks, he'll put me into -a betterer method. I could produce many more such instances which I have -gleaned from their conversations; but these will be sufficient to convince -the world that no subject is too high, no point too intricate for their -exalted capacities.... I cannot conclude better than by giving a specimen -of an Oxford tradesman's poetical genius, in an extract of a letter from -my taylor, who (in the college phrase) put the dun upon me. In my answer I -advised him to peruse Philips's description of a dun in his splendid -shilling: to which he made me this reply.... 'But now to that which, you -say, breaks all friendship, a dun, horrible monster! I have _bruis'd_ -Philips, though, in some places too hard. As to the appellation, I cannot -think it rightly apply'd.' - - "For I - Ne'er yet did thunder with my vocal heel, - Nor call'd yet thrice with hideous accent dire; - But only with my pen declar'd my dread, - What most I fear'd, the horrid catch-pole's claw. - - "But you, - Whom fortune's blest with splendid shilling worth, - Ne'er fears the monster's horrid faded brow, - Fed with the produce of blest Alb'on's isle, - With juice of Gallic and Hispernian - Fruits, that doe chearful make the heart of man, - Thus sink my muse into the deep abyss, - As low as Styx or Stygia's bottom is." - -"_N.B._"--wrote _The Student_ in italics at the foot of this wonderful -poem, "I have paid him." - -There is a certain amount of pathos underlying that delightful piece of -mock praise. The thought of the mercers, grocers, shoemakers, and the rest -honestly believing themselves to have attained to a most unusual degree of -learning, by reason of their propinquity to a university, and parading -their monumental ignorance under that belief, is a very painful one. It is -even more painful, looking to the fact that most tradesmen, connected in -any way with Academic Oxford, read _The Student_ regularly, to know that -the above stream of ridicule did not enlighten them as to the truth. - -Another man who had evidently had the dun put upon him, not once but many -times, by sulky tradesmen, received (so at least it is to be supposed) an -unexpected windfall with which he settled all outstanding debts. The -wonderful and unaccustomed feeling of showing a clean slate was so strong -that he was moved to an ecstasy of versification to relieve himself. - - "The man, who not a farthing owes, - Looks down with scornful eye on those - Who rise by fraud and cunning, - Tho' in the Pig-market he stand - With aspect grave and clear-starched band, - He fear's no tradesmen's dunning. - - "He passes by each shop in town, - Nor hides his face beneath his gown, - No dread his heart invading; - He quaffs the nectar of the Tuns - Or on a spur-gall'd hackney runs - To London, masquerading. - - "Place me on Scotland's bleakest hill, - Provided I can pay my bill, - Hang every thought of sorrow, - There falling sleet, or frost, or rain - Attack a soul resolv'd in vain; - It may be fair to-morrow." - -From the fact that the man in debt had to hide his head beneath his gown -in order to get past the shops safely or else to pursue the longer but -less risky method of slinking down back streets so as to avoid meeting -creditors, it is certain that the shopkeeper who had lost his patience, -and was intent on nothing but getting his money back, was looked upon as a -fearsome and dreaded creature. His war tactics, aided by free access to -his customer's rooms, consisted of serving writs freely--putting the dun -upon his victims. One way to evade the serving was to sport the oak and -remain in voluntary confinement. Such a method was not, however, popular -as there was no alternative but work to relieve the tedium of such -imprisonment. Another way was described in the diary of a modern Oxford -man in _The Loiterer_. This "modern" gentleman was slacking away the -boring hour after breakfast in the perusal of "Bartlett's Farriery" when -there came a tap at his door, and in strode a dun with an insolent smirk. -The Undergraduate politely explained that he was shortly expecting a very -healthy windfall from home, upon receipt of which he would immediately pay -what was owing. The dun received this news with cold disbelief and refused -to be put off. Upon being offered brandy he became "sulky," and refused -with a touch of irritation. Then the Undergraduate, enraged at such -insolence, rose in his wrath and kicked the fellow down stairs to stop him -from becoming more impertinent. - -The dun must have possessed a curious character. Knowing well the -propensities of Undergraduates, he did not, like a wise man, imbibe the -liquid refreshment so generously offered to him, and depart with the -knowledge that payment, for that day at least, was impossible. Instead, he -refused brandy and waited to be kicked out--without, apparently, having -served his writ. - -The question of advertising was in those days only in its infancy. The -tradesman patronised Jackson's _Oxford Journal_ to a certain extent. In it -are to be found curiously worded announcements of medicines, books, -cock-fights, curacies to be drunk or eaten for, dancing masters who were -exclusive to the peerage, election paragraphs, and public notices; while -advertisements for wives and husbands, or loans of money, were not -infrequent. One of the most up-to-date and cunning methods then practised -was for two rival tradesmen to get up a mock ink-slinging match in the -columns of some periodical, and week after week furiously to denounce each -other as cheats, tricksters, and knaves, the one saying that the other -sold inferior goods, and _vice versa_. - -_The Loiterer_, prowling round incognito in search of copy for his next -issue, witnessed a "circumstance" as he calls it, connected with -advertisements, which is not unamusing. He was seated in his favourite -elbow chair in his usual corner at King's coffee-room, and had almost -despaired of picking up an idea, when he noticed a very reverend and -respectable gentleman who was apparently quite unknown to every one in the -room, and who seemed more engrossed in his own thoughts than amused by the -newspaper he was reading or the laughter and talk from the others in the -coffee-room. Suddenly, calling for his bill, he finished reading a -paragraph in the paper with upraised eyebrows and a note of horrified -surprise in his voice. "Upwards of forty thousand persons of both sexes! -Good God," he said, "what a state must the cities of London and -Westminster be in!" The elderly gentleman rose, and on his way out placed -the paper into _The Loiterer's_ hand. Every one in the room had heard his -remark and observed the manner of his exit. Immediately, therefore, there -was great excitement, every one wondering what amazing thing had happened -that could have escaped his notice while reading that very paper. _The -Loiterer_ began calmly to read solidly through column after column to find -this wonderfully exciting paragraph. While he was doing so a thin, -emaciated man "with a sallow and diseased countenance who, I have now -reason to believe was one of the forty thousand, stepped forward and -elucidated the mystery in a moment." - -He rapped out an oath and swore that the old gentleman had been meditating -on the advertisement of Leake's Justly Famous Pill. - -From this perturbing episode in the coffee-house _The Loiterer_ got the -idea of using his paper for the discussion of the peculiarities of -advertisement indulged in by tradesmen, local and otherwise. "I shall pass -over," he says, "the various wants of mankind, together with the pompous -Descriptions, the florid and luxuriant Language of Auctioneers which is -capable of converting a paltry Cottage into an elegant Villa. Nor shall I -dwell on a curious Phenomenon, a political Advertisement for the Sale of -Perfumery and the Dressing of Hair. But it is impossible with the same -indifference to pass over the ingenious Mr ---- who sells his Wines 'for -the [Greek: podas okys] of ready Money only, Wines in which neither the -eyes of Argus, nor the Taste of Epicurus, can discover the least -sophistication.' - -"One advertisement informs us, that Chimney pieces, another that -Candlesticks, are 'fashioned according to architectonic Models, and -agreeable to the affecting chastity of the Antique.' A third lets us know -how much we are obliged to the Legislature, 'that he is now enabled to -offer Pomatum to the public agreeable to the commercial Treaty'.... What -Lady, 'who excites admiration on account of the superior charms that -animate her Complexion,' can withstand an Advertisement of the Palmyrene -Soap? Every systematical old Fellow that wishes to know the exact number -of yards which he walks in a day, will certainly furnish himself with 'the -Pedometer, or Way-wiser.' And I make no manner of doubt that all the -Gentlemen Sportsmen of this University will find it impossible to resist -the persuasive nonsense and absurdity of 'Guns matchless for shooting; or -twisted barrels, bored on an improved plan, that will always maintain -their true velocity, and not let the Birds fly away after being shot, as -they generally do with Guns not properly bored, this method of boring Guns -will enable every Shooter to Kill his Bird, as they are sure of their mark -at ninety yards; he bores any sound Barrel for Two Guineas, and he makes -them much stronger than before.' If we take this Fellow's own word we must -allow him, without a pun, to be the greatest Borer in the kingdom." - -The system of "tick" seems to have been very simple. It was only necessary -to enter a shop and order things in large quantities for the tradesman to -allow credit. In the case of dirty Dick, who was lured into becoming a fop -by the report of the appreciative remarks which the lady Flavia was -supposed to have made about him, the only thing which had to be done to -gull the ever-obliging tradesman was to spread a rumour that the sloven -had come in for a legacy. The result was instantaneous, and Dick became a -Smart; but whether anybody was ever paid is not on record. The various -inns, ale-houses, coffee-houses and wig-makers had little need to -advertise. The Undergraduates did that for them. In nearly every poem and -sonnet that ever was written the praises are sung of Tom's or James's or -Clapham's or Lyne's or Hamilton's, while the great Tom Warton immortalises -three "Peruke-Makers" in his _Ode to a Grizzle-Wig_. - - "Can thus large wigs our Reverence engage? - Have Barbers thus the Pow'r to blind our Eyes? - Is Science thus conferr'd on every Sage, - By Bayliss, Blenkinsop, and lofty Wise?" - -While on the subject of innkeepers there is an example of the consummate -impudence of Terrae Filius which is most worthy of note. He compared the -Rev. Dr Newton, Principal of Hart Hall, to an innkeeper, in a letter upon -Dr Newton's book entitled "University Education." - -"Some persons it seems," wrote Amhurst, "have entertained a notion, that -your hall is no more than an inn, of which you are the host, and your -scholars the guests. I am sorry, sir, to say that there seems to be some -reason in this notion, however merrily you may please to treat it. For do -you not, like other innkeepers, get your living, and maintain your family -by letting lodgings, and keeping an ordinary for all comers? Are you not -licens'd for so doing, like other innkeepers and retalers of beer, though -by a different hand? Indeed, you sell logick and other sorts of learning, -as well as provisions for eating and drinking; but that cannot destroy the -character of an innkeeper, which you certainly are in all other respects, -but only proves that you deal in some particulars which your brethren of -the trade do not.... You have, no doubt, the same right, with other -innkeepers, to bring in a bill, and demand your reckoning, when you -please; which I do not hear that Mr Seaman, or any other of your guests -ever refused to pay; but I believe you are the only landlord in town who -would offer to detain his guests by force, after they had paid their -reckoning, and oblige them to spend more of their money in his house, -whether they will or not." - -All these subtle parallels were, of course, not intended as compliments. -To call a Head of a Hall an innkeeper is not exactly to take off one's hat -to him. But Amhurst forgot that in a previous chapter he made a proud -confession of his own humble origin. His discourse was of great men sprung -from small beginnings. - -"What," he asked, "was of old the famous Cardinal Wolsey but a butcher's -son?... Nay, to go no farther, even I myself, overgrown as I am in fame -and wealth, stiled by all unprejudiced and sensible persons the instructor -of mankind, and the reformer of the two universities, am by birth but an -humble plebeian, the younger son of an ale-house keeper in Wapping, who -was for several years in doubt which to make of me, a philosopher, or a -sailor: but at length birthright prevailing, I was sent to Oxford, scholar -of a college, and my elder brother a cabin boy to the West Indies." - -But why drag in Wolsey? - -In King Charles's letter against the women of the university of Cambridge -he banned the houses of all taverners, inn-holders or victuallers. It was -this class of tradesmen in Oxford who brought up their daughters as -toasts. This was the reason why a statute was passed "Prohibiting all -scholars, as well Graduates as Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to -frequent the houses and shops of any tradesmen by day, and especially by -night...." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE DON - - Tutors--Their slackness--The real and the ideal tutor--Dr Newton on - tutor's fees--Dr Johnson's recommendation of Bateman--Public - lecturers--Terrae Filius and a Wadham man's letter. - - -Just as the schoolmaster is considered the natural enemy of boys, so is -the Don popularly credited with being the natural enemy of the -Undergraduates. The originator of this wonderful theory is presumably the -lady novelist who, with no deeper knowledge of Oxford than that obtained -from a minute study of the coloured photographs in railway trains, has -pictured the Don in her vivid imagination to be a crusty, inhuman, and -gouty septuagenarian who, in the intervals of delivering abstruse -lectures, passes his days in sending men down and otherwise suppressing -all vitality and humanity. - -Anything more completely ridiculous it would be impossible to imagine. -Conceive a body of charming and delightful men, very kindly and -sympathetic, always ready to go out of their way to help a man in -financial or moral difficulties, cultured, intellectual, hard working, -thorough sportsmen in the best sense of that much abused word, full of -loyalty to their college and to the university, delighted by the athletic -or scholastic triumphs of the men with whom they are in close contact--and -then you do not obtain anything more than a true description of those men -who do so much to uphold the honour of the university, and who are -remembered with respect and even affection by the generations of -Undergraduates who pass through their hands. - -The eighteenth-century Don, on the contrary, was a person altogether -different. In the desire to bring out the light and shade of his -personality I am frustrated by the superabundance of the latter and the -minute quantity of the former. In dealing with the Georgian Don I have -taken each species separately: the Tutor, the Lecturer, the Examiner, the -Head of a college, and so forth. - -It appears that the old-time fresher, having been admitted to a college, -was at once recommended to a tutor whom he interviewed in his rooms. The -Hoxton man, who came up with his mother and his dad, found himself called -upon by his prospective tutor to sit down and make small work of several -quarts of liquid refreshment to the healths of various "traitors." Being -somewhat flurried at this boisterous reception, the lad was assured that -he did not come to the university to pray, and that in any case, he, the -tutor, would look after him like a father. Of being called upon to do any -work with him there was no whisper. Gibbon, on the other hand, on being -placed under the tutorship of Dr Waldegrave, was desired to attend that -gentleman's rooms each morning from ten to eleven and read the _Comedies -of Terence_. This he accordingly did, but with so little advantage to -himself that, after a few weeks, he quietly dropped away and saw his tutor -no more. To counterbalance the accusation of slackness against Dr -Waldegrave, Gibbon described him as having been a "learned and pious man -of a mild disposition, strict morals and abstemious life, who seldom -mingled in the politics or jollity of the college." This worthy man -departed from the precincts of Magdalen, and Gibbon had nothing good to -say for his successor. "The second tutor," wrote Gibbon, "whose literary -character did not command the respect of the college, well remembered that -he had a salary to receive, and only forgot that he had a duty to -perform.... Excepting one voluntary visit to his rooms during the titular -months of his office, the tutor and pupil lived in the same college as -strangers to each other." - -The vindicator of Magdalen leaped into the breach on behalf of the tutors -against Gibbon, and gave a hundred reasons why Gibbon was in the wrong. -But there are numberless other instances of utter laziness among that -section of the Don world. Malmesbury, for instance, related in his usual -cheery and optimistic manner, that his tutor, "an excellent and worthy -man, according to the practice of all tutors at that moment, gave himself -no concern about his pupils. I never saw him but during a fortnight, when -I took it into my head to do trigonometry." This witness matriculated at -Merton thirteen years after Gibbon's time. - -Another example of bad tutorship may be quoted from William Fitzmaurice, -second Earl of Shelburne, who went up in 1753. "At sixteen, I went to -Christ Church, where I had again the misfortune to fall under a -narrow-minded tutor.... He was not without learning, and certainly laid -himself out to be serviceable to me in point of reading.... I came full of -prejudices. My tutor added to those prejudices by connecting me with the -anti-Westminsters, who were far from the most fashionable part of the -college, and a small minority."[24] - -In the light of these adverse criticisms it is interesting to note the -statutorial view as to the ideal tutor. According to Amhurst, who quoted -statute (_d_), it was ordained that "no person shall be a tutor who has -not taken a degree in some faculty, and is not (in the judgment in the -head of the college or hall to which he belongs) a man of approv'd -learning, probity and sincere religion." But can these requirements be -called sufficient if the hundreds of tutors against whom their pupils -flung accusations of slackness, drunkenness, and other hobbies, all -satisfied them? - -_The Loiterer_, evidently with this insufficent statute in mind, made some -very intelligent remarks _a propos_ of this question. "Scarce any office," -he wrote, "demands so many different requisites in those who would fill it -properly, as that of a college Tutor, and in none perhaps is propriety of -Choice so little attended to. The Tutor of a College goes off to a Living, -dies of an Apoplexy, or is otherwise provided for; a Successor must be -found; and as few who have better prospects chuse to undertake so -disagreeable an office, the Society is sometimes under the necessity of -appointing a person, who is no further qualified for it than by the -possession of a little classical, or mathematical information. With this -slender stock of knowledge, and without any acquaintance with the World or -any insight into Characters, He enters on his office with more Zeal than -Discretion, asserts his own opinions with arrogance and maintains them -with obstinacy, calls Contradiction, Contumacy, and Reply, Pertness, and -deals out his Jobations, Impositions, and Confinements, to every ill-fated -Junior who is daring enough to oppose his sentiments, or doubt his -opinions. The consequence of this is perfectly natural. He treats his -pupils as Boys and they think him a Brute. From that moment all his power -of doing good ceases; for we learn nothing from him, who has forfeited our -confidence. Such is the Portrait of what Tutors too often are, might I be -indulged in pointing out what they _should_ be, very different would be -the Character I should sketch. I would draw him modest in his disposition, -mild in his temper, gentle and insinuating in his address; scarce less a -man of the world than a man of letters. His Classic Knowledge (though far -above mediocrity) should be the least of his acquirements; General -Knowledge should be his forte, and the application of it to general -purposes his aim. He should not only improve those under his care in his -publick lectures, but should endeavour at least to direct them in their -private studies; he should encourage them to read, and should teach them -to read with taste." - -At this point _The Loiterer's_ friend interrupted and insisted that no man -was ever born to be a tutor if tutors must possess all the attributes -contained in that description. Upon this _The Loiterer_ said that he knew -only one man in the entire university who came up to the standard, and -that man was his own tutor. - -Gibbon made a scornful allusion to the salary of tutors. On this subject -Dr Newton penned a multitude of indignant sheets because a certain -Undergraduate, named Joseph Somaster, demanded permission to leave Hart -Hall and transfer himself to Balliol for the reason that he had an offer -of obtaining a tutor there who required no fees. With regard therefore to -tutors' fees, "it may be observed," wrote the reverend Doctor, "that the -University doth allow Tutors to Receive a consideration for their care of -the Youth entrusted to them; that, as this is very Reasonable in itself, -so hath it ever been the Practice of Tutors to Receive a Consideration for -such their care; that the consideration they have received, not being -limited by any Statute, hath varied, and is, at this day, different in -different Houses of Education within the University; that the tutor's -demand being known, and not objected to before a Scholar is enter'd under -his care, the same, upon entrance, becomes the consideration that is -agreed to be paid for his care. That the Labourer is worthy of his Hire; -that some Hire is both a better Encouragement to a Tutor, and a greater -obligation upon him to take a due care, than no Hire; that the greatest -Hire, of which any tutor in the University is, at this day thought worthy, -compar'd with the Expence he hath been at, and the Pains he hath taken, -and the Years he hath spent in order to Qualifie himself for this trust, -and also, with the further Labour and Time he must employ in discharging -it faithfully, is very small. That unless Learning be the very lowest of -all attainments, and the Education of Youth the very lowest of all -Professions, Thirty Shillings a Quarter, for near three times as many -Lectures, is not so extravagant a demand, as that he who pays it, should -do it with an unwilling hand. Much less that any one, who hath Himself -been a Tutor, and who hath experienc'd a faithful Tutor's trouble and -anxiety, should think it too much for any of his Fellow-Labourers in the -same Vocation, although their circumstances should be so affluent that -they need not any reward, or their Friendship so particular that they do -not desire it."[25] - -In the time of Dr Johnson the college tutors lectured in Hall as well as -in their own rooms, and, in addition, they set weekly themes for -composition--for the non-performance of which the fine was half a crown. -The day for giving in these themes was Saturday. George Whitefield, though -only a poor starveling servitor with scarce a penny to bless himself with, -was twice fined by his tutor because he failed to compose his theme. - -Christopher Wordsworth in his book on the universities in the eighteenth -centuries made it clear that when Dr Johnson was at Pembroke in 1728, -"Undergraduates generally depended entirely upon the Tutor to guide all -their reading. His first tutor Jordon was like a father to his pupils, but -he was intellectually incompetent for his important position. For this -reason Johnson recommended his old schoolfellow Taylor to go to Christ -Church on account of the excellent lectures of Bateman then tutor there." -In Johnson's own words in reference to Mr Jordon, "He was a very worthy -man, but a heavy man, and I did not profit much by his instructions. -Indeed, I did not attend him much. The first day after I came to college, -I waited upon him, and then staid away four. On the sixth, Mr Jordon -asked me why I had not attended. I answered, I had been sliding in -Christchurch meadow. And this I said with as much non-chalance as I am now -talking to you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my -tutor." To this self accusation Boswell replied, "That, Sir, was great -fortitude of mind!" "No, Sir," snapped Johnson, "stark insensibility."[26] - -It is unnecessary to arraign further damning evidence against the Georgian -tutor. He stands convicted on the cases which I have related. Were I -called upon indeed to summon other witnesses for the prosecution, I have -but to turn to any eighteenth-century authority. No one has a word to say -in his favour. By every one he is pronounced to be an idle, -self-indulgent, dishonest, utterly unintellectual creature, conspicuously -lacking in "learning, probity, and sincere religion." - -The next division of the genus Don is the public lecturer, in regard to -whom there are, so Amhurst informed us, a number of statutes concerning -the public lecturers in all faculties: appointing, with the utmost -exactness, where they shall read, when they shall read, what they shall -read, how they shall read, and to whom they shall read. "All these (as I -have frequently observed) are almost totally neglected; out of twenty -public lectures, not above three or four being observed at all, and they -not statutably observed: for the auditors, who belong to the same college -with the lecturer in any faculty, do not wait upon him to the school, -where he reads, and back again, as they ought to do; so far from it, that -not one in ten goes to hear these lectures, nor do they (who do attend) -take down what they hear in writing; neither do they (I believe) -diligently read over the same author at home, which the public professor -undertook to explain; nor are persons punished (as the statutes require) -for any of these omissions." Even if it be admitted that three or four is -an exaggeratedly low estimate of the number of these lectures, and that -the "auditors" are just as lazy as the men who deliver them, yet it is not -to be wondered at that the Undergraduates did not read over the authors, -or write down what they heard. All the lectures were delivered by Dons who -knew next to nothing about their subject, and they were in consequence -very tedious and worthless affairs. - -The lectureships were bestowed "upon such as are utterly and notoriously -ignorant of them, and never made them their study in their lives. They are -given away, as pensions and sinecures, to any body that can make a good -interest for them, without any respect to his abilities or character in -general, or to what faculty in particular he has apply'd his mind. I have -known a profligate _debauchee_ chosen professor of moral philosophy; and a -fellow, who never look'd upon the stars soberly in his life, professor of -astronomy; we have had history professors, who never read anything to -qualify them for it, but Tom Thumb, Jack the Giant-killer, Don Belicanis -of Greece, and such like valuable records; we have had likewise numberless -professors of Greek, Hebrew and Arabick, who scarce understood their -mother tongue; and, not long ago, a famous gamester and stock-jobber was -elected to M--g--t, professor of divinity; so great it seems is the -analogy between dusting of cushions, and shaking of elbows, or between -squand'ring away of estates, and saving of souls!" - -[Illustration: A SOUTH VIEW OF THE OBSERVATORY AT OXFORD.] - -Terrae Filius was moved to the above denunciations and reminiscences of -lecturers, who, he said, were elected perhaps on the principle that "he -can do no mischief; ergo, he shall be our man," by the receipt of a -letter from a Wadham man who recounted his own personal experiences of -lecturers and their ways. It runs thus:-- - - "WADHAM COLLEGE, _Jan. 22, 1720_. - - "_To the Author of Terrae Filius._ - - "SIR,--I hope you intend to acquaint the world, amongst other abuses - in what manner the pious designs of those good men, who left us all - our publick lectures, are answered. Yesterday morning at nine a clock - the bell went as usually for a lecture; whether a rhetorical or - logical one, I cannot tell; but I went to the schools, big with hopes - of being instructed in one or the other, and having saunter'd a pretty - while along the quadrangle, impatient of the lecturer's delay, I ask'd - the major (who is an officer belonging to the schools) whether it was - usual now and then to slip a lecture or so: his answer was that he had - not seen the face of any lecturer in any faculty, except in poetry and - musick, for three years past; that all lectures besides were entirely - neglected.... Every morning in term time there ought to be a divinity - lecture in the divinity school; two gentlemen of our house went one - day to hear what the learned professor had to say upon that subject: - these two were join'd by another master of arts, who without arrogance - might think that they understood divinity enough to be his auditors; - and that consequently his lecture would not have been lost upon them: - but the doctor thought otherwise, who came at last, and was very much - surprized to find that there was an audience. He took two or three - turns about the school, and then said, 'Magistri vos non estis idonei - auditores; praeterea, juxta legis doctorem Boucher, tres non faciunt - collegium--valete;' and so went away. Now it is monstrous, that - notwithstanding these publick lectures are so much neglected, we are, - all of us, when we take our degrees, charg'd with and punish'd for - non-appearance at the reading of many of them; a formal dispensation - is read by our respective deans, at the time our grace is proposed, - for our non-appearance at these lectures, and it is with difficulty - that some grave ones of the congregation are induced to grant it. - Strange order! that each lecturer should have his fifty, his hundred, - or two hundred pounds a year for doing nothing, and that we (the young - fry) should be obliged to pay money for not hearing such lectures as - were never read, nor ever composed...." - -In the face of personal experience of this kind how is it possible to -believe that to obtain a degree was anything but a question of independent -work or the judicious administration of "pourboires"? To attend at the -right hour for a lecture which was never read, to be fined for -non-attendance, and finally to have great difficulty in persuading the -authorities to sign the necessary dispensation is a Gilbertian absurdity. -No other instance more striking than this letter can be found in all the -eighteenth-century chronicles of the attitude of Dons towards the -Undergraduates in their charge. Once certain of their annual stipend their -duties went by the board; and the Dons, whether lecturers or Heads of -colleges, whether they knew each other personally or not, banded together -to ensure their own safety, and signed to a lie in regard to the -delivering of lectures with the utmost unconcern. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - The examiners--Perjury and bribery--Method of examining--College - Fellows--Election to Fellowships--Gibbon and the Magdalen Dons--Heads - of colleges--Their domestic and public character--Golgotha and Ben - Numps--St John's Head pays homage to Christ Church--Drs Marlowe and - Randolph. - - -After the lecture comes the examination, so the examiner shall be the next -in line. Now the examiners were appointed by the senior Proctor, who -administered to them the following oath: "That they will either examine, -or hear examined, all candidates that fall to their lot, in those arts and -sciences, and in such manner as the statute requires. Likewise that they -will not be prevailed upon by entreaties, or bribes, or hatred or -friendship, or hope or fear, to grant any one a _testimonium_, who does -not deserve it, or to deny it to any one that does." The examiners were, -however, in the same parlous condition as the lecturers and tutors. - -The most mild of all the adverse criticisms was that of Henry Fynes -Cliton, who was at the House in 1799. He said that the examiners -discouraged Undergraduates from making a wide choice of authors for their -schools, and that if any one anxious for first-class honours took an -author not included in the abbreviated list as given out by them, they -would find a way to stop him from obtaining the coveted class. - -This entirely bears out the statement of Amhurst, who said that the -examiners were entirely ignorant of the subjects in which they examined, -and that the whole system was a farce and a scandal. - -"How well the examiners perform their duty," he wrote with almost -apathetic resignation, "I leave to God and their own consciences; tho' my -shallow apprehension cannot reconcile their taking a solemn oath, that -they will not be prevail'd upon by entreaties or bribes, or friendship, -etc., with their actually receiving bribes, and frequently granting -_testimoniums_ to unworthy candidates, out of personal friendship and -bottle acquaintance. It is a notorious truth, that most candidates get -leave of the proctor, by paying his man a crown (which is called his -perquisite) to choose their own examiners, who never fail to be their old -cronies and toping companions. The question therefore is, whether it may -not be strongly presumed from hence, that the candidates expect more -favour from these men, than from strangers; because otherwise it would be -throwing away a crown to no purpose; and if they do meet with a favour -from them, _quaere_ whether the examiner is not prevail'd upon by -intreaties or friendship." - -Another method of procedure then very popular was for the examiner to -receive "a piece of gold" or an "handsome entertainment" from each of the -candidates, or else to be made drunk by him the night before the -examination. The candidate took care to provide sufficient drink to keep -his man occupied busily till morning, and then they adjourned, "cheek by -joul," from their drinking room to the school. "_Quaere_" demanded Terrae -Filius again, "whether it would not be very ungrateful of the examiner to -refuse any candidate a _testimonium_, who has treated him so splendidly -over night? and whether he is not, in this case, prevail'd upon by -bribes?" - -Vicesimus Knox of St John's made very much the same statements about the -examiners, and added that during the time when they were closeted with the -candidates in the schools they did nothing but discuss the latest drinking -bout (which took place the night before), or talk horses, or read -newspapers and novels till the clock struck eleven--when they all -descended, and the _testimonium_ was signed without a twinge of -conscience. - -But college Fellowship was, perhaps, one of the most abused offices in -existence. Once nominated to a Fellowship, however unfit to occupy the -position, a Don was settled for life. He had a fixed income, did no work, -and worried about nothing but to retain his own particular corner chair at -the King's Head tavern or elsewhere. He stagnated for the rest of his -natural life, and became gross by dint of perpetual drinking. On the sad -subject of college Fellows T. J. Hogg, writing of Shelley at Oxford, told -us that at the end of the eighteenth century, - -"If a few gentlemen were admitted to Fellowships, they were always absent; -they were not persons of literary pretensions, or distinguished by -scholarship; and they had no more share in the government of the college -than the overgrown guardsman.... - -"A total neglect of all learning, an unseemly turbulence, the most -monstrous irregularities, open and habitual drunkenness, vice, and -violence, were tolerated or encouraged, with the basest sycophancy, that -the prospect of perpetual licentiousness might fill the colleges with -young men of fortune; whenever the rarely exercised power of coercion was -exerted, it demonstrated the utter incapacity of our unworthy rulers by -coarseness, ignorance, and injustice." - -Terrae Filius devoted one chapter, peculiarly conspicuous for its lack of -satirical venom, to the dissection of Fellows. His article was occasioned -by a report in all the papers of the death of Dr Pudsey, one of the senior -Fellows of "Maudlin College (who) died there last week aged near an -hundred years." "This," said Amhurst, "gives me an opportunity of -discoursing upon what I have always thought one great error in the -constitution of most colleges; which I will do with only this preface, -that I hope no body will think I design, in what I shall say, to reflect -on the deceas'd old gentleman before mention'd. The original design of -endowing colleges was undoubtedly this, to support such persons as could -not bear the charges of a learned education themselves, till they were -able to shift in the world, and become serviceable to their country; for -this reason all scholars and fellows (of most colleges at least) are -obliged to take an oath, that they are not worth so much per annum _de -proprio_, in some colleges more, and in some less; but in all colleges the -meaning of the oath is the same, that no person shall benefit of the -foundation who can live without it; but this oath, like other oaths, is -commented away, and interpreted so loosely, that, at present it does not -exclude persons of four or five hundred pounds a year.... When any person -is chosen fellow of a college, he immediately becomes a freeholder, and is -settled for life in ease and plenty; provided only that he conforms -himself to the ceremonies and caprices of the place, which very few will -stick at, who delight in such an indolent and recluse state; at first, -indeed, he is obliged to perform some insignificant, superficial -exercises, and to get a few questions and answers in the sciences by rote, -to qualify him for his degrees; but when these are obtain'd, he wastes the -rest of his days in luxury and idleness; he enjoys himself, and is dead to -the world; for a senior fellow of a college lives and moulders away in a -supine and regular course of eating, drinking, sleeping, and cheating the -juniors.... In many colleges the fellowships are so considerable, that no -preferment can tempt some persons to leave them; they prefer this -monastic, and (as they call it) retired life to any employment, in which -they would be obliged to take some pains, and do some good." - -Such remarks from the mouth of Terrae Filius are indeed quiet, but -however lacking in sparkle, they are filled with the truth. Turn where we -may, on every hand, the Fellows of colleges are written down and left -without one saving quality. - -The state of Magdalen, as related by Gibbon, was no better and no worse -than that of any other college. "The fellows or monks of my time," -according to him, "were decent, easy men, who supinely enjoyed the gifts -of the founder; their days were filled by a series of uniform employments; -the chapel and the hall, the coffee-house and the common room, till they -retired, weary and well satisfied, to a long slumber. From the toil of -reading, or thinking, or writing, they had absolved their conscience; and -the first shoots of learning and ingenuity withered on the ground, without -yielding any fruits to the owners or the public. As a gentleman commoner, -I was admitted to the society of the fellows, and fondly expected that -some questions of literature would be the amusing and instructive topics -of their discourse. Their conversation stagnated in a round of college -business, Tory politics, personal anecdotes, and private scandal; their -dull and deep potations excused the brisk intemperance of youth; and their -constitutional toasts were not expressive of the most lively loyalty for -the house of Hanover.... The example of the senior fellows could not -inspire the undergraduates with a liberal spirit or studious -emulation."[27] - -The common room, with its accompaniments of tobacco and liquor, formed the -scene in which the greater portion of their parts was acted by the -Fellows; for the rest, the taverns and coffee-houses, where the meetings -of jovial societies, of which they were members, were held. By way of -exercise, an occasional horse ride; nothing more. Their other chief hobby -was, in the language of the time, "wenching." Amazingly enough, they -still had sufficient energy, after living such a life, to array themselves -in all their glory, and sally forth to pay homage at the feet of the toast -of the day. In their attempts to cut out the Smarts in the affections of -the reigning queen, Merton Wall and Paradise Gardens saw them daily. -_Liaisons_ with their neighbour's wives, bedmakers, and bedmaker's -daughters were everyday occurrences; so openly, indeed, were these things -done, that songs were composed in various clubs of the doings of certain -Fellows mentioned by name, and satirical poems were written about them; -but there the matter ended. - -The character of a Head of a college, taken "in a more private view, -amongst their fellows in their respective colleges," was thus delineated -by Amhurst. "A director or scull of a college is a lordly strutting -creature, who thinks all beneath him created to gratify his ambition and -exalt his glory; he commands their homage by using them very ill; and -thinks the best way to gain their admiration is to pinch their bellies and -call them names, as the most tyrannical princes have always the most loyal -subjects; he is very vicious and immoral himself, and therefore will not -pardon the least trip or miscarriage in another; he is a great profligate, -and consequently a great disciplinarian; he petrifies in fraud and -shamelessness, and is never properly in his element but when he is either -committing wickedness himself, or punishing the commission of it in -others." So much for his domestic character. In the exercise of his public -functions he was one of a gang who "have as persidiously broken as great a -trust reposed in them by the Government, the nobility, gentry, and -commonality of England; that, under pretence of advancing national -religion and learning, they have introduced national irreligion and -ignorance; and instead of promoting loyalty and peace have encouraged -treason and disturbance; that they have debauched the principles of youth -instead of reforming them; that they have been guilty of wicked and -infamous practices of all sorts; ought they not, likewise, to be punish'd -in the most rigorous manner?" - -Amhurst found this a very sore subject, for, later on, he bore out the -theory of the promotion of ignorance, and said that they did their utmost -to prevent learning. "Whatever portion of commonsense they possess -themselves, they take especial care to keep it from those under their -tuition, having innumerable large volumes by them, written on purpose to -obscure the understanding of their pupils, and to obliterate or confound -all those impressions of right or wrong which they bring with them to the -universities; their several systems of logic, metaphysics, ethics, and -divinity are calculated for this design, being fill'd up with inconsistent -notions, dark cloudy terms, and unintelligible definitions, which tend not -to instruct, but to perplex, to put out the light of reason, not to assist -or strengthen it; and to palliate falsehood, not to discover truth." - -As further evidence of the amazing egoism and brutality of "Sculls," it is -worth while to quote the story of a Head of Balliol who held office in -these times. "A young fellow of Balliol College having, upon some -discontent, cut his throat very dangerously, the master of the college -sent his servitor to the buttery book to sconce (that is, fine) him five -shillings, and, says the doctor, tell him that the next time he cuts his -throat I'll sconce him ten!" - -Whenever there was important academical business afoot the Vice-Chancellor -and Sculls met in solemn conclave in Golgotha, the state room in the -Clarendon building. The room was handsomely decorated and wainscotted. The -wainscot was said to have been put up by order of a man of humour who went -up to Oxford for a degree without "any claim or recommendation." He -promised, however, in exchange for the degree to become a benefactor of -the university. The Sculls thereupon hurriedly engaged workmen who began -running up the wainscot, and they "clapp'd a degree upon his back." But as -soon as the degree had been granted, the benefactor disappeared, and the -Sculls were left to pay the workmen with money out of their own -pockets--which, of course, had been previously plundered from the -university. - -It was in this room that all the weighty business of the university was -conducted. In the amusing words of Amhurst, "if any sermon is preach'd, if -any public speech or oration is deliver'd in derogation of the church, or -the university, or in vindication of the Protestant succession, or the -Bishop of Bangor, hither the delinquent is summon'd to answer for his -offence, and receive condign punishment. In short, all matters of -importance are cognisable before this tribunal: I will instance only one, -but that very remarkable. A day or two before the late Queen died, a -letter was brought to the post-office at Oxford, with these words upon the -outside of it, _we hear the queen is dead_; which, being suspected to -contain something equally mischievous within, was stopt, and carried to -the Vice-Chancellor, who immediately summon'd his brethren to meet him at -Golgotha about a matter of the utmost consequence: when they were -assembled together he produced the letter before them; and having open'd -it, read the contents of it in an audible voice; which were as follow:-- - - "'ST JOHN'S COLLEGE, _July 30, 1714_. - - "'HONOURED MOTHER,--I receaved the Cheshear chease you sent ma by - Roben Joulthead, our waggoner, and itt is a vary gud one, and I thanck - you for itt, mother, with all my hart and soale, and I promis to be a - gud boy, and mind my boock, as yow dezired ma. I am a rising lad, - mother, and have gott prefarment in college allready; for our sextoun - beeing gonn intoo Heryfoordshear to see his frends, he has left mee - his depoty, which is a vary good pleace. I have nothing to complayne - off, onely that John Fulkes the tailor scores me upp a penny strong a - moost everyday; but I'll put a stopp to it shortly, I worrant ye: I - beleave I shall do vary well, if you wull but send me t'other crowne; - for I have spent all my mony at my fresh treat (as they caul itt) - which is an abominable ecstortion, but I coud not help itt; when I cum - intoo the country, I'le tell you all how it is. So no more att this - present: but my sairvice to our parson, and my love to brother Nick - and sister Kate; and so I rest.--Your ever dutiful and obedient son, - - "'BENJAMIN NUMPS.' - -"When he had done reading, the Sculls look'd very gravely upon one another -for some time, till at length Dr Faustus, late of New college, got up and -spoke to them in the following manner:-- - - "'GENTLEMEN,--The words of this letter are so very plain and - intelligible in themselves, that I wish there is no latent and - mysterious meaning in them. How do we know what he means by the - cheese, which he thanks his mother for? or how do we know that he - means nothing else by it, but a cheese? Then, he desires his mother to - send him t'other crown; now what, I conjure you all tell me, can he - mean by that other crown but the elector of Hanover; especially as he - tells us on the outside of his letter that the _queen is dead_? These - rebels and roundheads are very fly in everything they do; they know we - have a strict eye over them; and therefore if this Benjamin Numps - should be one of them, and have any such ill designs in his head, to - be sure, if he expected to succeed, he would not express himself to be - understood. So that, with all submission to my reverend brethren, I - think that we ought to sift this matter thoroughly, for fear of the - worst;' and sat down." - -A gentleman referred to as Father William then rose to reply. The grave Dr -Faustus did not overawe him as he overawed the rest. Father William, in -scathingly sarcastic language, told him that he was a fool, a John o' -dreams, always suspecting mischief where none was meant. "Who but you," he -said, "would ever have suspected treason in a Cheshire cheese?" The man -Numps, he explained to the reverend Sculls, was simply a poor servitor but -lately entered into his own college, who had not the brains necessary to -think out any plot. Therefore the fellow was sent for. He entered, -trembling in every limb at the sight of all these learned authorities -sitting in solemn conclave, and acknowledged his fault "full of sorrow and -contrition," and humbly asked their pardon. - - * * * * * - -Such was the characteristic manner in which the Heads ruled the -university, and the above incident is a typical instance of the weighty -business which arose from day to day. They were the counterpart of the -Pharisees, who strained at gnats and swallowed camels. In connection with -the headship of St John's College there existed a rather curious custom. -The Don elected to the Presidentship led the whole college, arrayed in -fullest academical garb, down to Christ Church, where they did homage. -Dibdin related that when Dr Marlowe succeeded to the President's Chair of -St John's College they were received at the "House" by Dr Cyril Jackson, -then Dean of Christ Church. After the performance of what Dibdin calls a -"humbling piece of vassalage" which was conducted with great pomp and -formality, the members of St John's returned, and were duly regaled with a -sumptuous repast by the newly-elected President who went to the various -common rooms--the masters by themselves, the bachelors by themselves, and -the scholars and commoners each in their particular banqueting room. There -he drank wine with them, and was loudly toasted. "I remember one forward -freshman," said Dibdin, "shouting aloud on this memorable occasion as the -new President retreated-- - - "'Nunc est bibendum; nunc pede libero - Pulsanda tellus!' - -"The stars of midnight twinkled upon our orgies; but this was a day never -to come again. Dr Marlowe sat for thirty-three years in the Presidental -Chair."[28] - -Having read accounts of all the pompous, evil-living and unpopular Heads -for whom nobody had a good word, it is refreshing to come across records -of thoroughly-liked men like Dr Marlowe of St John's and Dr Randolph of -Corpus, of whom R. L. Edgeworth sang the praises. "Dr Randolph," he said, -"was at that time (1761) president of Corpus Christi College. With great -learning, and many excellent qualities, he had some singularities, which -produced nothing more injurious from his friends than a smile. He had the -habit of muttering upon the most trivial occasions, _mors omnibus -communis!_ One day his horse stumbled upon Maudlin bridge, and the -resigned president let his bridle go, and drawing up the waistband of his -breeches as he sat bolt upright, he exclaimed before a crowded audience, -_mors omnibus communis!_ The same simplicity of character appeared in -various instances, and it was mixed with a mildness of temper, that made -him generally beloved by the young students. The worthy doctor was -indulgent to us all, but to me in particular upon one occasion, where I -fear that I tried his temper more than I ought to have done. The gentlemen -commoners were not obliged to attend chapel on any days but Sunday and -Thursday; I had been too frequently absent, and the president was -determined to rebuke me before my companions. 'Sir,' said he to me as we -came out of chapel one Sunday, 'you _never_ attend Thursday prayers!' 'I -do _sometimes_, sir,' I replied. 'I did not see you last Thursday. And, -sir,' cried the president, rising into anger, 'I will have nobody in my -college' (ejaculating a certain customary noise, something between a cough -and the sound of a postman's horn), 'sir, I will have nobody in my college -that does not attend chapel. I did not see you at chapel last Thursday.' -'Mr President,' said I, with a most profound reverence, 'it was impossible -that you should see me, for you were not there yourself.' Instead of being -more exasperated by my answer, the anger of the good old man fell -immediately. He recollected and instantly acknowledged, that he had not -been in chapel on that day. It was the only Thursday on which he had been -absent for three years. Turning to me with great suavity, he invited me to -drink tea that evening with him and his daughter. This indulgent -president's good humour made more salutary impression on the young men he -governed than has ever been effected by the morose manners of any -unrelenting disciplinarian."[29] - -Dr Randolph, Dr Marlowe, and the tutor of _The Loiterer_ are the only -three men whom I have been able to discover whose integrity was beyond -question. Three out of a whole century of Dons explains many things! It -proves the truth of the grave charges of vice, irreligion and perpetual -sloth brought against the Dons of the century, by every writer of the -time. It explains the bad government of colleges, general licentiousness, -and scholastic negligence which were the main characteristics of Georgian -Oxford. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE DON--(_continued_) - - Proctors--The Black Book--Personal spite and the taking of a - degree--The case of Meadowcourt of Merton--Extract from Black - Book--The taverner and the Proctor--Izaak Walton and the senior - Proctor--Amhurst's character sketch of a certain Proctor. - - -The Proctor and his bull-dogs (entailing sudden scuttlings down side -streets, which, if abortive, lead to the nine o'clock string outside that -gentleman's door, and the unwilling disbursement of goodly sums--the fine -for being out of college at an unstatutable hour was 40s.!--because -forsooth, a man had the misfortune to cross his path without being arrayed -in statutable garb), loomed darkly on the eighteenth-century skyline. -Wrapped in the safe embrace of trencher and gown it was possible to watch -the great Proctors - - "... march in state - With velvet sleeves and scarlet gown, - Some with white wigs so hugely grown - They seem to ape in some degree - The dome of Radcliffe's Library." - -It was the redoubtable senior Proctor who was the guardian of the Black -Book, the register of the university, in which he recorded the name of any -person who affronted him or the university. The mere inscription of a name -in the Proctor's book may not seem a very fearful punishment, but it takes -on a darker aspect when it is discovered that no person so recorded might -proceed to his degree till he had given satisfaction to the Proctor who -had put him in. Amhurst explained that the Black Book into which the -Proctors put anybody "at whom, whether justly or not, they shall take -offence ... was at first design'd to punish refractory persons and immoral -offenders; but at present it is made use of to vent party spleen and is -fill'd up with whigs, constitutioners, and bangorians. So long as the -university has this rod in her hand, it is no wonder that high-church -triumphs over her most powerful adversaries; nor can we be at all -surpriz'd that Whiggism declines with the constitution club in Oxford, -when we behold people stigmatiz'd in the Black Book, and excluded from -their degrees for soberly rejoicing upon King George's birthnight, and -drinking his majesty's health." - -The question of making satisfaction to the Proctor who had inscribed a -name in that "dreadful and gloomy volume" was, in many cases at least, a -difficult and lengthy proceeding. The Merton Undergraduate, Meadowcourt, -who, as Steward of the Constitution Club, prevailed upon the Proctor to -join in drinking King George's health, was prevented for two years from -taking his degree. The "binge" was a quite considerable affair. Party -feeling ran high, and the Charles II. partisans gathered in their hundreds -outside the tavern in which the Constitutioners had foregathered. Amid -booing and hissing, they threw lighted squibs in at the windows. In a -subsequent interview with Mr Holt, the Proctor, Meadowcourt, having -apologised, learned that as far as Holt was concerned he had nothing -further to fear, but that Holt's brother Proctor, Mr White of Christ -Church, was vastly incensed, and had desired that "the power of taking -cognisance of, and proceeding against all that was done that night, might -be placed in his hands." To this Holt had agreed. Consequently Meadowcourt -found himself compelled to seek out Mr White. The interview was short and -stormy, the Proctor being in "an ungovernable passion, insomuch that he -often brandished his arm at him." - -[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE.] - -Out of the doings of that adventurous, amusing and wholly reprehensible -evening the proctor White concocted the following charges which were duly -recorded in the Black Book, in all their pompous length:-- - - "_June 28th, 1716._ - - "Let Mr Carty of university College be kept from his degree, for which - he stands next, for the space of one whole year. - - "1. For prophaning, with mad intemperance, that day, on which he - ought, with sober chearfulness, to have commemorated the restoration - of King Charles the second and the royal family, nay, of monarchy - itself, and the church itself. - - "2. For drinking in company with those persons, who insolently boast - of their loyalty to King George, and endeavour to render almost all - the university, besides themselves, suspected of dissaffection. - - "3. For calling together a great mob of people, as if to see a shew, - and drinking impious execrations, out of the tavern window, against - several worthy persons, who are the best friends to the church and the - king; by this means provoking the beholders to return them the same - abuses; from whence followed a detestable breach of the peace. - - "4. For refusing to go home to his college after nine o'clock at - night, though he was more than once commanded to do it, by the junior - proctor, who came thither to quell the riot. - - "5. For being catch'd at the same place again by the senior proctor, - and pretending, as he was admonish'd by him, to go home; but with a - design to drink again. - - "Let Mr Meadowcourt of Merton College be kept back from the degree - which he stands for next, for the space of two years; nor be admitted - to supplicate for his grace, until he confesses his manifold crimes, - and asks pardon upon his knees. - - "Not only for being an accomplice with Mr Carty in all his faults (or - rather crimes), but also, - - "7. For being not only a companion, but likewise a remarkable abetter - of certain officers, who ran up and down the High Street with their - swords drawn, to the great terror of the townsmen and scholars. - - "8. For breaking out to that degree of impudence (when the proctor - admonish'd him to go home from the tavern at an unseasonable hour) as - to command all the company with a loud voice, to drink King George's - health. - - "JOH. W., _proc-jun._" - -In spite of the many entreaties on his behalf made by several -distinguished persons ("amongst whom were a most noble duke and a -marquis") Meadowcourt was unable to obtain the remission of his sentence, -and was compelled to wait the full two years before he could proceed to -his degree. At the end of that time both the proctors concerned had -retired, and the Merton man, upon applying to the proctor then in office, -was informed that nothing could be done until both Holt and White had been -consulted. The unfortunate man went from one to the other for weeks. They -"bandied it about, sending Mr Meadowcourt upon sleeveless errands," till, -at last, having jumbled their learned noddles together, they sent him a -paper containing the following articles, which they insisted should be -read by Mr Meadowcourt publicly in the Convocation House, before he might -proceed to his degree. - - "1. I do acknowledge all the crimes laid to my charge in the Black - Book, and that I deserved the punishment imposed on me. - - "2. I do acknowledge that the story of my being punish'd on account of - affection to King George, and his illustrious house, is unjust and - injurious, not only to the reputation of the proctor, but of the whole - university. - - "3. I do profess sincerely, that I do not believe that I was punish'd - on that account. - - "4. I am very thankful for the clemency of the university, in - remitting the ignominious part of the punishment, viz., begging pardon - on my knees. - - "5. I beg pardon of Almighty God, of the proctor, and all the masters, - for the offences which I have committed respectively against them; and - I promise that I will, by my future behaviour, make the best amends I - can, for having offended by the worst of examples." - -Having fought the almighty proctors thus far Meadowcourt was not, however, -the man to give in to such an absurdly overwhelming piece of indignity as -that proposed. He refused to read the paper, resolving rather to go -without his degree. He was advised, however, to plead the Act of Grace, -which he did after many further checks and delays. He emerged finally from -the unequal conflict with victory and a degree. This case I think amply -justifies Amhurst's assertion that the Black Book was used as a weapon -with which the proctors paid off personal insults and old scores, and the -injustice and abuse of the great power which they knew so cunningly how to -wield is only too apparent. - -The proctors, naturally enough, were vastly unpopular men and, supposedly, -realising this, did not go one iota out of their way to decrease the -general dislike attaching to them, but rather consoled themselves by -piling on the pains and penalties at every opportunity. The gownsmen were -not the only people who had a rooted objection to them on principle. Even -the townees and tradesmen regarded them with an unfriendly eye, and gave -them no assistance in the detection of Undergraduate delinquents. In -illustration of the light in which they were held by the townspeople -Amhurst related an amusing story. - -"A man who liv'd just by a pound in Oxford and kept an ale house put upon -his sign these words '_Ale sold here by the Pound_,' which seduced a great -many young students to go thither out of curiosity to buy liquor, as they -thought, by weight; hearing of which, the vice-chancellor sent for the -landlord to punish him according to statute, which prohibits all ale house -keepers to receive scholars into their houses; but the fellow, being -apprehensive what he was sent for, as soon as he came into the -vice-chancellor's lodgings, fell a spitting and a spawling about the room; -upon which the vice-chancellor ask'd him in an angry tone, what he meant -by that? - -"'Sir,' says the fellow, 'I am come to clear myself.' - -"'Clear yourself, sirrah!' says the vice-chancellor; 'but I expect that -you should clear yourself in another manner; they say you sell ale by the -pound.' - -"'No, indeed, Mr Vice-chancellor,' replies the fellow, 'I don't.' - -"'Don't you,' says the Vice-chancellor again, 'how do you then?' - -"'Very well,' replies he, 'I humbly thank you, Mr Vice-chancellor; pray -how do you, sir?' - -"'Get you gone,' says the vice-chancellor, 'for a rascal'; and turned him -downstairs. - -"Away went the fellow and meeting with one of the proctors, told him that -the vice-chancellor desired to speak with him immediately; the proctor in -great haste went to know the vice-chancellor's commands, and the fellow -with him, who told the vice-chancellor, when they came before him, that -here he was. - -"'Here he is!' says the vice-chancellor, 'who is here?' - -"'Sir,' says the impudent alehouse-keeper, 'you bad me go for a Rascal; -and lo! here I have brought you one.'" - -The proctors had the appointment of the examiners, and once now and again -they paid a surprise visit in their official capacity to the schools, when -the examinations (such as they were) were in progress. This was, however, -a "rare and uncommon occurrence." When prowling the streets in search of -whom they might devour their method was to search the coffee-houses and -smart establishments and give impositions to the "Bucks in boots" upon -whom they pounced. They left the ale-houses alone, or, in Tom Warton's -words:-- - - "Nor Proctor thrice with vocal Heel alarms - Our Joys secure, nor deigns the lowly Roof - Of Pot-house snug to visit: wiser he - The splendid Tavern haunts, or Coffee-house...." - -Izaak Walton described the senior proctor in 1616 as one who "did not use -his power of punishing to an extremity; but did usually take their names, -and a promise to appear before him unsent for next morning: and when they -did convinced them with such obligingness, and reason added to it, that -they parted from him with such resolutions as the man after God's own -heart was possessed with, when he said to God, There is mercy with thee, -and therefore thou shalt be feared (Psal. cxxx.). And by this, and a like -behaviour to all men, he was so happy as to lay down this dangerous -employment, as but few, if any have done, even without an enemy." - -The proctorship was therefore a difficult post to fill even a full century -before Amhurst was born to set down in black and white the iniquities of -his own time. Izaak Walton's proctor was the exception; Amhurst's seems -to have been the rule, and his character is given by Terrae Filius as -follows:-- - -"... of Christ Church, a tool that was form'd by nature for vile and -villainous purposes, being advanced to the proctorship, publickly -declar'd, that no constitutioner should take a degree whilst he was in -power. This corrupt and infamous magistrate had formerly been under cure -for lunacy, and was now very far relaps'd into the same distemper. He was -naturally the most proud and insolent tyrant to his betters, who were -below him in the university; but to those above him the most mean and -creeping slave. He was peevish, passionate, and revengeful; loose and -profligate in his morals, though seemingly rigid and severe. In publick, a -serious and solemn hypocrite; in private, a ridiculous and lewd buffoon. -An impudent pretender to sanctity and conscience, which he always us'd as -a cloak for the most unjust and criminal actions. In short, he was so -worthless and despicable a fellow, and had so scandalously overacted his -part in his extravagant zeal against the constitution club, that at the -expiration of his proctorship, when he appear'd as candidate for the -professorship of history, there were not above ten persons, besides the -members of his own college who voted for him." - -The anonymity of the blank space in front of the man's college is not -sufficient to conceal the fact that this character sketch, a bitter and -pointed attack, was most probably meant for the Mr White who distinguished -himself in the Meadowcourt case. As, however, from many instances, he -appears to have been no better and no worse than the generality of -proctors during the century, there is no reason why Amhurst's -denunciations should not be credited as descriptive of most of the others -of his kind. - -Modern Oxford has reason to congratulate herself that the reins of -government are no longer in such hands. There exist to-day none of the -abuses and vices which were so striking a feature of the eighteenth -century. They have all been swept away. Oxford has purged herself of them, -and in their place are to be found honesty, uprightness, and all the -cardinal virtues. The modern Don has nothing in common with his Georgian -predecessor. He relegates self to a discreet background, and devotes his -entire energies to the interests of those over whom he has authority; and -his pupils, on going down, harbour no feelings of contempt and -ill-feeling, but look on him instead as a man whose friendship is an -honour which must be treasured to the end. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN - - Charles James Fox--Earl of Malmesbury--William Eden--Cards and - claret--Midnight oil--Oxford friendships remembered afterwards--Edward - Gibbon--Delicate bookworm--Antagonism towards Oxford--Becomes a Roman - Catholic--Subsequent apostasy--John Wesley--Resists taking - orders--Germs of ambition--America the golden opportunity--Oxford - responsible for Methodism. - - -Academic Oxford of the eighteenth century has been thrown on to the screen -in different lights and from different sides. The Don, for the most part -inert in his elbow chair, puffing at his glazed pipe, with many bottles -and tankards at his elbow in the common room or the coffee-house; turning -up his nose at the impudence of any man who wanted to work; too lazy, and -in many cases too ignorant, to put skilful questions in the examinations; -abusing his trust as an examiner by receiving bribes, in the same manner -that he set the Undergraduates a lead in vice of all kinds outside the -schools; earnest and eager in political strife of the Vicar of Bray type; -keen on nothing but his own personal aggrandisement, either socially or -financially--in all these lights he has passed through the picture. We -have seen also the Undergraduate in all his class divisions--the humble -servitor receiving sixpence a week from each of his gentleman patrons, -doing the dirty work and odd jobs, keeping soul and body together on the -scraps that fell from the rich men's table, writing out their impositions -and scraping an education in the meanwhile, God knows how; the gentleman -commoner and the Smart, swaggering it abroad in the glory of their purple -and fine linen, sneering at the dull regulars, cutting lectures and -chapels, doing no work, incurring enormous expenses "upon tick," -following the example set by the Dons in drunkenness and wenching. We have -seen them amusing themselves, free from any kind of restriction, in -taverns, town and gown rows, on the river, in the cock-pit and the prize -ring, and dallying with the beauties under Merton Wall. - -Looking at all these things and to the general loose living which was the -keynote of the eighteenth century, we are apt to feel with Malmesbury that -it is a matter of surprise how so many of the Undergraduates made their -way so well and so creditably in the world. It has already been remarked -that the worth of Oxford lies not in the quality of the degree taken, but -in the education which environment and the association with better men -undoubtedly gives. The mere cramming of book knowledge would be useless -were it not accompanied by the far more important expansion of mind, the -broadening of outlook, and the formation of character brought about by the -social life of the university. This is palpably so in the case of the -eighteenth-century Undergraduate, since work was practically non-existent, -and a degree merely a matter of so much ready money. He could not do -anything else but take on the colour of the surroundings of vice and -intemperance which then reigned supreme. - -How is it then that any man emerged from the Oxford of this period and -succeeded in inscribing his name on the roll of fame? The reason is that -Oxford was a mirror in which was reflected London life. The metropolis was -simply Oxford on a larger scale, so that the Undergraduates were learning -at the university to do the things which would be expected of them in -after life; and the men who distinguished themselves at college were bound -to achieve renown later. The fame of such men as Charles Fox, the -pre-eminent statesman; Edward Gibbon, the historian; Malmesbury, the -diplomat; John Wesley, the founder of Methodism; Collins, the poet; and -the immortal Dr Johnson, is written down in the pages of history. - -Charles James Fox, one of the greatest statesmen England has ever seen, -came up from Eton to Hertford College[30] in 1764, where he was the -leading spirit in a little coterie which included James Harris, Earl of -Malmesbury, and William Eden, Baron Auckland. By his father he had been -initiated, while still at Eton, into the vice of gaming, by which he was -very deeply bitten. A still more curious fact is that although Fox as a -young man had no inclinations towards loose living he was taken over to -Paris and laughed into it by his otherwise doting parent. His innate force -of character, however, enabled him to resist what might have wrecked the -life of another man less strong, and although outwardly he was at Oxford -an idle gamester, yet in secret, in the small hours of the morning, he -worked exceedingly hard. Malmesbury has described this circle of friends -as a non-working, pleasure-loving body. Fox, as the leader of them, fell, -of course, under this category; but the results of his hours of private -grinding were quite extraordinary. He read "Aristotle's 'Ethics and -Politics,' with an ease uncommon in those who have principally cultivated -the study of the Greek writers. His favourite authors were Longinus and -Homer, with the latter of whom he was particularly conversant; he could -discuss the works of the Ionian bard, not only as a man of exquisite -taste, and as a philosophical critic, which might be expected from a mind -like his, but also as a grammarian. He was indeed capable of conversing -with Longinus, on the beauty, sublimity, and pathos of Homer; with -Aristotle on his delineations of man, with a pedagogue on dactyls, -spondees, anapaests, and all the arcana of language. History, ethics, -politics, were, however, his particular studies." - -Yet with all these accomplishments, which, in a period none too famous for -its learning, were all the more amazing, this extraordinary man was swayed -by his passion for gaming, and never behindhand in expeditions of debauch -with his companions. Cards were the favourite pastime then in vogue, and -it was round the baize-covered table that Fox cemented his friendship with -Malmesbury and Eden. These latter, both, subsequently, men of -international fame, also surrendered themselves completely to the -slackness of the time, and did their utmost to imitate with thoroughness -the London fops of whom they had some slight experiences before coming up. -While still gownsmen this triumvirate gave signs of their future -greatness. Their card parties were a centre of attraction, not because of -the high stakes for which they played, but for the wit and brilliance of -their conversation. Fox's eloquence was even then remarkable, and he had -"no cotemporary so erudite in knowledge, none so elegant in mirth." The -enormous possibilities of this Undergraduate were fully appreciated by the -college authorities. He was allowed to make trips to London, where, in the -company of his father, he went to the Houses of Parliament, and was a keen -listener at many of the great debates. When a proposal was on foot for Fox -to cross to Paris and make a stay of some months there, the Head of -Hertford granted him leave immediately with the unusual remark that such -application as his necessitated "some intermission; and you are the only -person with whom I have ever had connexion to whom I could say this." - -With characteristic thoroughness Fox outdid the most complete Smart in the -elegance of his dress. He made a special journey from Paris to Lyons for -the purchasing of waistcoats, and on his return to England was seen in the -Mall "in a suit of Paris-cut velvet, most fancifully embroidered, and -bedecked with a large bouquet; a headdress cemented into every variety of -shape; a little silk hat, curiously ornamented; and a pair of French shoes -with red heels; for the latter article of which he considered it of no -mean consequence that he was indebted to his own exclusive importation!" - -He had a great fondness for literature and poetry and, following the -customs of the times, he used occasionally to dash off an indiscreet -sonnet, or a more sound criticism of the current publications. Italian, he -declared, contained as a language more good poetry in it than any with -which he was conversant. The essential quality in any subject was that it -should be "entertaining." Without this, Fox refused to consider it. The -exact meaning which he read into the word is, however, somewhat difficult -to gather, for, writing to his friend Macarthey, he stated that he was -fond of mathematics and would concentrate upon it because it promised to -be entertaining. - -Oxford remained dear to Fox and the friendships he formed over the -card-table, and the various "rags" in which he took part were never -forgotten by him. When the triumvirate went down, their ways at first lay -separate. Eden's time was occupied first in getting called to the Bar, and -then, through the patronage of the Duke of Marlborough, to Parliament as -member for Woodstock. Malmesbury, an incipient diplomatist while still at -Winchester, left England and joined the British Embassy at Madrid. Fox -left Oxford before the age of twenty-one, and was immediately returned to -Parliament for Midhurst. For some twenty years the tide of life kept the -three apart, each striving in his own quarter. Then in 1782 Fox, who had -climbed higher up the ladder of fame than either of the other two, was -reminded of the old friendships of his Undergraduate days. Malmesbury, -then Sir James Harris, Knight of the Bath, was invalided home from the -Embassy at St Petersburg, and was instantly appointed by Fox to be -Minister at the Hague. The year after this, Eden, whose political career -under the banner of Lord North was a distinguished one, came again into -touch with Fox, and exerted himself to bring about a coalition between his -own chief and his old Oxford friend. It is practically certain that the -touch of sentiment roused by the remembrance of the old days, when Eden -and he played cards and drank claret beneath the spires of Oxford, was the -only reason why the coalition was brought about by Eden, for Fox -afterwards publicly avowed in the House of Commons, when the rupture -between North and himself was final, that "the greatest folly of his life -was in having supported Lord North." - - * * * * * - -"To the University of Oxford," wrote Gibbon in after years, "I acknowledge -no obligation; and she will as cheerfully renounce me for a son as I am -willing to disclaim her for a mother. I spent fourteen months at Magdalen -College; they proved the fourteen months the most idle and unprofitable of -my whole life." - -A boy of sixteen, thin and delicate, who from his earliest infancy had -fallen from one illness into another, possessed of an abnormal brain, and -for these two reasons shunning, and shunned by, his school-fellows both in -playground and classroom, and therefore compelled joyfully to fall back -upon books, with which he ate, drank, and slept--conceive such a boy, and -one sees Gibbon at Magdalen. Add to this the facts concerning the debauch, -the lack of "bookish fellows," the gross and inert Dons, all of which -characterised the times, and it is easy to appreciate the reasons why a -man like Gibbon, a high-strung, dreamy creature to whom any crowd of human -beings inspired positive fear, and whose interests were entirely removed -from wenching, drinking, and gaming, received no benefit from Oxford. He -went up intent on nothing but the pursuit of knowledge. In the course of -his dealings with his various tutors--which have already been set forth in -a previous chapter--he found that knowledge was to be obtained neither in -the lecture rooms nor the common rooms. To these latter, being a gentleman -commoner, he received invitations and went high in the expectation of -learned conversations and brilliant dialogue. He found instead no subjects -under discussion save horses, drink, and political preferment. This -beardless boy, practically self-educated and big with ideas upon the -important subjects of life, turned with disgust from the society of the -"port bibbing" and stagnant Fellows. With no definite course of studies to -occupy his attentions, and unchecked by any authority, the unaccustomed -feeling of liberty swept him into the infringement of rules and statutes. -To his tutor he gave casual excuses for non-attendance at lectures, and -disappeared from Oxford for days at a time. The unscholarly condition of -the university, and his own physical inability to join in any athletic -pursuits, united in preventing Oxford from making any impression upon him. -Her history, her architecture, her traditions, seem to have held no -interest for him, and he was more interested in making expeditions to -London and places in the surrounding country than in remaining in the -university and studying Undergraduate life. Even the beauty of Oxford's -old walls, tree-bordered lawns and walks, and winding river, made no -appeal to him. He was in sympathy with no single thing. It was a mistake -on his parents' part ever to have sent him up. A man of Gibbon's peculiar -temperament was entirely out of place in any university; more particularly -Oxford, in the state in which she then was. - -And yet in spite of the incompatibility between Gibbon and Oxford, his -university career was marked by an all-important incident in the -development of the great historian. By education and training he was a -Protestant, but, as was his habit with every subject to which he turned -his attention, he did not merely read books and swallow their contents as -indisputable facts. Everything he read was deeply pondered, made to pass -under his own criticism, and then compared with other authors on the -opposite side of the case. Consequently the subject of his own creed -underwent deep thought, and after reading Middleton's "Free Enquiry into -the Miraculous Powers which are Supposed to have Subsisted in the -Christian Church," Gibbon's religious beliefs were shaken. He decided that -Protestantism was inconsistent; he was dissatisfied with it. Filled with -the restlessness engendered by uncertainty, Gibbon read many works, -including Bossuet's "Variations of Protestantism" and "Exposition of -Catholic Doctrine," and the writings of the Jesuit priest, Father Parsons. -"These works," he said, "achieved my conversion"--the arguments in favour -of Roman Catholicism put forward by the Jesuit priest being the real -turning point in the scale. - -Having arrived at the conclusion that the Protestant religion paled into -insignificance before the Roman Catholic one, the Magdalen man felt that -he would know no happiness until he himself should join the ranks of the -"Papists." For once his thoroughness deserted him. He did not consider the -question--and the question of a man's entirely changing his religious -beliefs is a very vital one--with his usual exhaustiveness. Like a baby -with a new toy, Gibbon, the great and wonderful man of brain, world famous -and immortal, made a complete fool of himself. He rushed off to London -without more ado, and there, under the influence of a "momentary glow of -enthusiasm," "privately abjured the heresies" of his childhood before a -certain Father Baker, also a Jesuit, and became a Roman Catholic. For the -moment his belief was red hot, and he wrote a burningly defiant letter to -his father announcing his change of creed. The elder Gibbon at once -provided an excuse for his being sent down (a circumstance which very -probably would have come about on the Magdalen Dons' own initiative -without any excuse being offered to them), and packed him off to the care -of the Calvanistic minister at Lausanne, M. Pavilliard. The scattering of -the hastily-swallowed, undigested arguments which had brought about -Gibbon's precipitate action, was a matter of a few months to M. -Pavilliard, and in less than two years he was once more a fully convinced -Protestant. The ex-Magdalen man's _amour propre_ is fully demonstrated by -the unblushing assertion that although the Calvinist minister had "a -handsome share in his re-conversion," yet it was principally brought about -"by his own solitary reflections." Doubtless when he wrote those -statements he fully realised the extent and powers of his own brain, and -refused to admit that any ordinarily clever man could have, or ever did -have, any influence in swaying him from one point of view to another. One -is fully justified in assuming that had he not gone to a Calvinist -minister, but, instead, continued under the roof of a Jesuit priest, none -of the "philosophical arguments," to which he refers so glibly, would have -availed him, and Edward Gibbon, historian, would have remained a Roman -Catholic to the end of his days. - - * * * * * - -"Lord, let me not live to be useless!" was the constant prayer of John -Wesley, and it was the keynote of his character. The founder of the -Methodists, famous throughout the civilised world, and a man whose -personal magnetism and great brain were bound to bring him to the fore in -whatever profession he might have chosen, was actuated by a consuming -dread of being considered useless. A desire to achieve great things was -fostered during his Undergraduate days at Christ Church. He went there -with a sound knowledge of Hebrew, and began to achieve some note for his -skill in logic. This was the beginning of the growth of ambition, and the -fact that he was "noticed for his attainments" brought him great pleasure, -for at all times he bubbled over with humour and good spirits in full -realisation of his college notoriety. In consequence of this his -reluctance at taking orders, when proposed by his family, was marked. He -argued the question with himself fully while pacing his rooms at night, -and he wrote to his father and explained his reluctance. It is conceivable -that the life as led by gentleman commoners, with its wine parties, wild -escapades, and general moral carelessness may have been the reason of -Wesley's hesitation. For this clever, amusing lad was popular in his -college, and invited to take part in all the jollifications. Be that as it -may, the question of devoting his life to religion was a difficult one. -Wesley's self-examination, assisted by his father's scorn of becoming a -"callow clergyman," was doubtless attended by silent questionings as to -what was his speciality. The atmosphere and traditions of Oxford had laid -hold of him. The names of great men, sons of _Alma mater_, filled him with -the desire to emulate them, to excel them even. Their names were spoken in -awe and admiration. Why should not his be also? He was brilliantly clever, -of a clever family, and already had tasted the joys of fame in however -humble a manner. Why should he have to follow his father's lead and enter -the Church? Could he not do better for himself outside? Undoubtedly, for -there was more scope, less subjection to rules and orders, more individual -power. But, on the other hand, these speculations and desires to break -away were held in check by filial respect and love. His father and mother -were keenly desirous of his embracing a clerical life, and his mother -especially was of opinion that the sooner he entered into deacon's orders -the better, as it would be an additional inducement to "greater -application in the study of practical divinity." - -[Illustration: STAIRCASE, CHRIST CHURCH.] - -Wesley, therefore, looked facts in the face and concentrated his whole -mind upon the study of theology. Since he could not be Prime Minister, he -would be a great religious man. He began by disagreeing with "The -Imitation of Christ," and held views on the question of humility which -lead one to believe that by this time the seeds of his ambition had grown -to trees. Jeremy Taylor's tenet, that we ought, "in some sense or other, -to think ourselves the worst in every company where we come," was flatly -contradicted by Wesley, who, although admitting absolute humility to God, -reserved the right to consider himself a better man than many another; for -when he was elected a Fellow of Lincoln, after he had been ordained, he -practically showed the door to all those of his visitors whom he thought -would do him no good, by reason of their not loving or fearing God. Then -an incident happened which had a lasting effect upon Wesley; which changed -his whole life. He travelled over to see what was called "a serious man." -Who this man was is unknown, but he was a student of psychology and a man -of keen intuition. He summed up John Wesley, and gave forth the remark -which had so great an influence upon him. "Sir," he said, "you wish to -serve God and go to Heaven. Remember, you cannot serve Him alone; you -must, therefore, _find_ companions or _make_ them: the Bible knows nothing -of solitary religion." - -Wesley never forgot these words. They were the turning-point in his -career. His vast brain and desire to become the greatest of God's servants -would not allow him to be merely a curate in the Established Church, thus -to serve God humbly. Even the chance of his eventually emerging as -Archbishop was not sufficiently big. Neither was the Roman Church large -enough, though from his characteristics it is conceivable that he was in -sympathy with the love of power which, in olden times, is said to have -marked out the Jesuits. The words of this "serious man" gave him furiously -to think. He would make companions, followers, disciples. He, himself, -would become greater than any of the men discussed by his fellow -Undergraduates by taking over the leadership of a band of religious and -ascetic men, who should occupy themselves solely in carrying out the -commands of God. - -Already his piety and zeal were much discussed in Oxford, for he led the -way to George Whitefield in attending the Sacrament daily and doing -charitable works. His younger brother, Charles, had formed the nucleus of -a religious order by meeting weekly with two or three serious-minded -friends and discussing religion. When John Wesley returned to Lincoln -after an absence of some two years, during which he had had time to think -out matters while filling a country curacy, these lads put themselves -under his leadership. It was the first taste of power and individual -authority. He ruled the little band sternly, put their practices into -order and method, and secured an "accession of members." He submitted -himself to rigorous fasts, and cultivated an eccentric appearance by -letting his hair grow. Even his brother, Samuel, himself really religious, -perceived that he "excited injurious prejudices against himself, by -affecting singularity in things which were of no importance." His mother -suggested cutting his hair off, but the money could not be spared from -Wesley's charities. His brother put forward that it should be merely -reduced in length. This Wesley agreed to, and it is recorded that "this -was the only instance in which he condescended, in any degree, to the -opinions of others." - -The culminating instance of his egoism lies in his absolute refusal, in -spite of his father's earnest entreaty, to take on his _cure_ at the -latter's death. He considered the proposal "not so much with reference to -his utility, as to his own well-being in spiritual things." The question, -as it appeared to him, was not whether he could do more good to others -there or at Oxford, but whether he could do more good to himself, seeing -that wherever he could be most holy himself, there he could most promote -holiness. He decided that he could improve himself more at Oxford than at -any other place, and at Oxford, therefore, he determined to remain. His -father wrote to him, "if you are not indifferent whether the labours of an -aged father, for above forty years in God's vineyard, be lost, and the -fences of it trodden down and destroyed; if you consider that Mr M. must -in all probability succeed me if you do not, and that in prospect of that -mighty Nimrod's coming hither shocks my soul, and is in a fair way of -bringing down my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave; if you have any care -for our family, which must be dismally shattered as soon as I am dropt; if -you reflect on the dear love and longing which this poor people has for -you, whereby you will be enabled to do God the more service, and the -plenteousness of the harvest, consisting of near two thousand souls, -whereas you have not many more souls in the university--you may, perhaps, -alter your mind and bend your will to His, who has promised if in all our -ways we acknowledge Him, He will direct our paths." - -In the face of this stirring appeal from an aged father what did Wesley -reply? He refused absolutely to entertain the matter. His -self-centredness, the while he directed the religious beliefs and -operations of the small body of disciples at Oxford, made him forget all -considerations of filial duty and love and of God's commands to obedience. -His parents had been the reason of his entering the Church. He would make -no further sacrifice for them now that he saw his way clear. His father, -mother, the thousands of poor people--nobody and nothing mattered except -that he should make himself more holy! The petty duties, worries, and -cares, the continual small demands of trifling points entailed by such a -curacy were too small for this striving, all-conquering spirit. What -mattered it that he should send his father's grey hairs down in sorrow to -the grave? - -All this while, he was most certainly turning over the saying of the -"serious man"--to _make_ followers. On his father's death it was proposed -that he should go to America. Here was his great chance. Oxford had taught -him that to expect to make English people, in their then blind and vicious -state, see the truth of the gospel of Christ, was futile and childish. He -was a prophet in his own country. But America, with all its -unsophisticated, raw children, its ripeness for a strong man to come with -the gift of oratory and sweep the country from end to end--there was his -chance! And afterwards, on the crest of his fame and success, then would -he convert England. His glory would have preceded him, and he would return -as one already great, to whom they would lend a more willing ear. But with -the astuteness of a really clever man, he peremptorily refused the offer -to send him out there. As a natural result the proposers of the scheme -argued. By degrees he allowed his willingness to be seen, though he -piously pointed out that as he was his mother's support, the staff of her -age, he could not go without her consent. This she immediately gave, as he -well knew she would. Accordingly, filled with exultation, buoyed up by a -feeling of certainty as to his ultimate success, John Wesley left Oxford -and England for the new country on which he intended to stamp his -personality, and by whose conquest he was determined to hand down his name -to posterity in the profession to which he had reconciled himself at the -age of some nineteen years while still an Undergraduate of Christ Church. - -Had Wesley not gone up to Oxford, his name might never have been added to -the list of England's famous men. It was Oxford which first showed him the -narrowness of a small curacy, Oxford which set him contemplating -greatness, Oxford which actually started him in command of disciples. -Therefore it is to Oxford that must be attributed the foundation, growth, -and fame of Methodism, the means by which John Wesley attained his ends, -power, and celebrity. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -CELEBRITIES AS OXFORD MEN--(_continued_) - - William Collins--Joins the Smarts--Forgets how to work--Oxford kills - his will-power--Loses his reason--Samuel Johnson at Pembroke--A lonely - freshman--Translates Pope's _Messiah_--Suffers horribly from - poverty--Dr Adam, his tutor--Readiness and physical pluck--Love of - showing off--His love of Pembroke. - - -William Collins has been claimed as the greatest lyric poet of the -eighteenth century. But, as is so often the case with famous men, his -genius during his life time received no recognition. It was only when the -world learned of his death, after he has been removed from a madhouse, -that his few works began to come in for the notice which they deserved. -Perhaps one of the reasons that life brought him no triumphant successes -was the fact that he knew not how to work; and the blame of this -undoubtedly falls upon Oxford. Whilst at school Collins worked steadfastly -both in the matter of examinations and independent poems. It was at -Winchester that he wrote his _Persian Eclogues_, and in proof of his -capacity for study he headed the list for nomination to an Oxford college, -which included Warton and Whitehead. Oxford caused him to dwindle into a -mere dilettante, a Smart, although he was accused falsely of bringing with -him from school "a sovereign contempt for all academic studies and -discipline." The beginning of his Undergraduate life was marked by his -strutting about in fine clothes with a feather in his cap, and running up -heavy bills at the booksellers and tailors. The steady reading which he -must have got through to enable him to head the school list was now -laughed at. No one else did any work. Why should he? The Dons at Magdelen -did not enforce the college exercises, and those which Collins -condescended to put in showed signs of great genius and great indolence. -The atmosphere of slacking, and card and wine parties which prevailed in -the university seized hold of Collins, and he indulged himself to the -full. - -From time to time the poetry that was in him overflowed in an ode or two, -but he was delighted to be interrupted by some genial friend in the middle -of his work, and there the poem would be left. He frequented parties -daily, entering thoroughly into the spirit of flippancy which -characterised all his smart friends. He loved to be the centre of -attraction, to talk and laugh and jest with a circle of admirers. Those -who did not think as he did were dubbed "damned dull fellows." The -complete liberty enjoyed by him as a gownsman killed the habit of work so -forcibly inculcated at his school. No sooner did he sit down in his rooms -to read than the thought of a call that he must pay brought him to his -feet again. His entire freedom was his ruin. Had he been compelled to work -during certain hours every day, it is certain that Collins would have been -less of a butterfly, and probable that he would not have lost his reason. -As it was, the lax authority bred in him a desire to partake of the -dissipation and gaiety of London, and caused him to relegate work and -poetry to a secondary and quite unimportant consideration. He became -content merely to draw up the outline of vast schemes for future work. -That which he did complete was short and unsatisfying. He began other -things and never completed them. In momentary bursts of enthusiasm he -would dash off the commencement of some perfect lyric with inspiration and -genius. But his powers of concentration had been sapped. He had not the -strength to go on working. The call to a tea-party, any outside matter of -no importance, was sufficient to make him throw his work into the fire and -rush off to enjoy himself. He even went so far as to receive money on the -_scenario_ of a work on condition of promising the completion by a certain -date. For some days he was steadied. His usual haunts saw him not. Behind -sported oak he sat and toiled, striving to conquer the distracting -thoughts aroused by the chime of a bell, the street cries which drifted up -to his window, the rustle of a branch in the trees outside, the tramp of -footsteps on his staircase, the shouts from a distant quad. The effort was -too much for him. Oxford had completely stifled whatever will-power he had -ever possessed. He was beaten by her, robbed of the faculty of using the -gifts which God had given him. He emerged from the struggle with several -pages of _scenario_, and nothing more was ever attempted. - -The praise of his friends round the Oxford tea-tables turned him into a -consistent prevaricator. "To-morrow I will write! To-morrow shall see my -epoch-making poem. To-morrow!" But to-morrow came and was passed in equal -idleness and futilities. "Wait till I get to London. Ah, then!" He was -convinced that he had but to arrive in the metropolis to be the centre of -a storm of praise and admiration. The praise and adulation poured upon him -by his fellow Undergraduates convinced him that his wit and genius would -make a brilliant success in London, and win him a fortune. But it was not -to be. His weakness and lack of resolve and initiative had triumphed. He -became an _habitue_ of coffee-houses, and formed acquaintances with -actors, wasting his time at stage doors. He soon dissipated his money, and -became badly in debt. The schemes for work by which to win fame and -retrieve his fortunes died at their birth, and nothing was carried -through. - -There cannot be definitely laid at Oxford's door the accusation of being -the root of the insanity which subsequently developed in him. But it was -undoubtedly the fault of Oxford that he lost so soon the power over his -will which he possessed before his Undergraduate days. Such a man as -Collins needed the control of a guiding hand, some strong man whose -influence would have acted as a spur, and whose example would have led to -regular hours and serious work. Oxford, however, provided no such man. The -appointed tutor, who must have been a person gross in mind and body, took -no trouble with his charge, exercised no care, left him, indeed, to his -own resources. With him lies the blame for Collins' madness. By leaving -him to follow the loose example of the Undergraduates of the time, who -acted upon the caprice of the moment whether for good or evil, that tutor -withheld, however unconsciously, the support for which the fragile mind of -Collins craved. Consequently, under the evil influence of -eighteenth-century Oxford, the holds upon his will which kept Collins -within the bounds of sanity were gradually loosened, until at length, a -few years after his going down, his reason entirely left him, and he who -should have been one of the world's greatest poets was lost. - - * * * * * - -In a room on the second floor over the gateway at Pembroke Dr Johnson -lived during his Undergraduate career. A large-browed, unusual looking -lad, whose clothes were even then ill-fitting and badly cut, he came up at -the age of nineteen under the protecting wing of his father; was duly -introduced to his tutor, and moved in, reverently and tenderly, the only -household gods that he possessed--his books. - -Of a melancholic and somewhat bitter disposition already, he was, if -possible, even more lonely and unsought than the average freshman. This -condition of things caused him no regret. All his friends he brought with -him to line the bookshelves, and, sporting his oak against an unrealising -and unappreciative world, he revelled in the poets and the classics with -uninterrupted bliss. But the vitality of youth does not long remain -daunted, and Johnson soon threw off his melancholia and sallied forth into -the cobbled streets in search of amusement or adventure. Through the -bare-armed trees of the Broad Walk he made his way and joined in the -sliding in the frozen Christ Church meadows. Work was forgotten in the -biting, frosty, invigorating air, and for four days his tutor saw him not. -Ice does not come every year, and Johnson made the most of it while it -lasted. - -The college exercises were child's play to him. Unlike the majority of -Undergraduates of the time, who read nothing but what was put into their -hands by their tutor, Johnson brought with him to the university such a -wide acquaintance with books, both of classics and poetry, that the Master -of Pembroke said in all sincerity that he was better qualified for the -university than any man during his time. With such knowledge and with the -impetuousness that was always one of his chief characteristics, it is not -to be wondered at that Johnson dashed off his exercises at top speed, and -with a brilliance that created awe in the minds of the Dons. In one case, -for instance, being requested to translate Pope's _Messiah_ into Latin -verse, Johnson retired to his chamber and there, behind closed doors, -wrote feverishly on a corner of his book-strewn table. The results of his -rapid labours were twofold. He established a great reputation not only in -his college but in the entire university, and, more than that, earned -Pope's highest praise, and brought about his statement that in later days -it would be a question whether his own or Johnson's version would be -considered the original. One of his favourite haunts was Pembroke gate. -There he lounged away his mornings, doing no work, attending no lectures, -and preventing a crowd of listening Undergraduates from doing work or -attending lectures. Like a king surrounded by his court, Johnson, unkempt -of hair and ragged of clothes, with shoes down at heel and fit only for -the rubbish heap, let fly his wit and satire upon every topic. The shouts -of laughter which he provoked from his compeers bound them to him as -though he had been a Pied Piper, and it was to empty benches that the Dons -delivered their empty discourses. Against the tutors and Fellows also he -turned his tongue, and his satire and humour at their expense allied the -Undergraduates still more closely to him. But these merry meetings in the -Pembroke gateway were only a pose on Johnson's part. He wished to convey a -certain impression, and he succeeded. The Master of Pembroke told Boswell -that he "was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and -frolicksome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his life." - -This was indeed a proof of the success of his pose; for in reality he was -neither gay nor happy. His poverty, the bareness of his rooms, the -shabbiness of his dress, the consequent inability to go anywhere, even -into Christ Church, or do any of the things that the other men did who had -money, ground into his soul. He was bitterly sensitive of these things, -and the least reference to them, however delicate or well-meaning, either -aroused a torrent of hot words, or caused him to retreat clam-like into -his shell. The man who in a spirit of discreet friendship crept up to his -rooms, left a new pair of shoes outside his door and stole unseen away, -was only rewarded for his good-nature by learning that Johnson had thrown -them out of the window in a burst of fury against the creation that had -left him penniless. It was only the fact that scornful eyes (or at any -rate Johnson's touchiness interpreted scorn into them) were turned upon -his shoes, through which his feet peered frankly out, that Johnson ceased -going to Christ Church to obtain, second hand, the lectures of Bateman -from his friend Taylor. He conceived poverty to be an awful and dangerous -state. After his father had died, leaving practically nothing for his -mother and himself, Johnson wrote in one of his little diaries: -"Meanwhile let me take care that the powers of my mind may not be -debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me into criminal -act." By force of having no money, and not receiving any remittances from -his father, by whom every penny had to be made to go the distance of two, -he naturally incurred debts at Oxford. As he knew, however, that it would -be only with difficulty that his expenses would be met at all, his debts -were not large, and any incipient extravagance that may have been in him -was crushed out very early. His one great craving was to replenish his -library, and as this was impossible he took every opportunity of visiting -the well-stocked libraries of other people. These gave him intense joy, -and his first move was always to cross to the bookshelves and there, -oblivious of his host and the whole world, to pour over the beloved -volumes. - -His faculty for poetical and prose writings was already strongly developed -when first he came up to Oxford, and the original points of view from -which he wrote his themes were a subject of great comment. The rest of the -Undergraduates were as children when compared to one of his mental -abilities. Even his tutor admitted that his position was farcical, and -that Johnson was far above him in brain capacity, for he said on one -occasion that "I was his nominal tutor but he was above my mark." And the -lad was then but some nineteen years of age! Merely to perform college -exercises was absurd and irritating to one of his hasty dispositions. -Having rattled them off, he used to read by himself, but with such a -varied and impetuous taste that his knowledge seemed to include every -subject of which anything had ever been written. Boswell says that "he -told me, that from his earliest years he loved to read poetry, but hardly -ever read any poem to an end; that he read Shakespeare at a period so -early, that the speech of the ghost in _Hamlet_ terrified him when he was -alone; that _Horace's Odes_ were the composition in which he took most -delight, and it was not long before he liked his _Epistles_ and -_Satires_.... What he read most solidly at Oxford was Greek; not the -Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, and now and then a little -epigram; that the study of which he was most fond was Metaphysicks." But -for all his brilliance Johnson went down without taking a degree. His -father's death rendered it impossible for him to remain at Oxford for the -full course, and he never went in for the schools. - -While at the university he did not form many great friendships. His was -not the temperament. A highly sensitive man, surrounded for the most part -by men of some wealth who were ever ready to incur expenses, he was always -on the look-out for an objectionable glance of pity or sympathy, than -which there was to him nothing worse or more heinous. With his wonderful -talents it was rather for him to look down upon the vacuous moneyed men -than permit himself to be patronised by them. Consequently, fully -realising the almost insurmountable handicap of comparative penury, -Johnson preferred to make his way by force of brain power or not at all, -rather than bow down to the man with a fat purse. As he himself said in -after life, "I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I -disregarded all authority." - -As a man of readiness and physical pluck he was without rival. In the -summer the thought of sunshine and the wonderful green colourings of the -trees called him from his books, and collecting a companion on the way, he -was used to saunter through the parks to enjoy a bathe. His pulses -tingling with the delight of being alive and young on a glorious day, with -the softly waving branches rustling overhead, and the quiet river gliding -at his feet, Johnson's flow of fancies kept his companion entranced until -they had thrown off their clothes and were ready for the first cool -splash. There existed apparently a certain deep hole in the river bed in -one of the places where they used to bathe, and Johnson's friend warned -him of the danger. Immediately, with the uncaring folly of youth, Johnson -plunged into the very spot to his friend's horror and anxiety. In a few -moments he emerged, blowing like a healthy grampus, and poured ridicule -upon his well-meaning if timid friend. He was, indeed, foolhardy to the -point of braggadocio. A very sure proof of this is afforded by an incident -which occurred when he was staying at Mr Beauclerk's house in the country. -The guests were outside the house one day on the lawn discussing the -merits of their guns, when one of them pointed out that if a gun were -loaded with many balls there was a danger of its bursting. Johnson -promptly slipped in some seven or eight and fired his gun against the wall -of the house. Instead of rating him soundly for his egregiously childish -love of showing off, Boswell, in his blind idolatry, praises this up as -being "resolution." - -At Oxford, and in fact afterwards, it was Johnson's habit to sally forth -at night time for solitary walks. His great affection for Oxford was -doubtless stimulated by these lonely prowls through the moonlit streets, -and his entire disregard for the consequences of his actions helped him in -his climbs back into college. One can picture him dropping out of Pembroke -after careful glances to right and left to see that all was clear, and -marching along with his hands behind his back, safe from the scornful eyes -of Smarts, which made his mean clothes infinitely more uncomfortable, his -eyes drinking in the beauties of the wonderful skyline of the City of -Spires, his mind occupied perhaps in thinking out Rasselas as he made his -way through the narrow, deserted streets. On one of these expeditions four -roughs sprang out upon him suddenly from the shadow of a gateway, intent -on relieving him of the purse and jewellery which they supposed him to -have. Their mistake was twofold, for, in addition to lighting upon a poor -man, they had also caught a tartar. Johnson, young and active, struck out -lustily and with skill, and, setting his back to the wall, battered the -scoundrels right royally. Savage at being resisted, the men renewed their -attack with the idea of vengeance, but Johnson, with no other aid than his -fists, kept them at bay until the quick tramp of feet hurrying round the -corner announced the presence of the watch, and both the attackers and -their would-be victim were carried off to the round-house. - -At a later period in his career when, one would have thought, his quick -temper should have been entirely under control, he had an amusing -adventure in the playhouse at Lichfield which showed, plainly enough, both -that he could still lose his temper and that he had sufficient strength to -carry things through. A chair had been placed for Johnson's express use -between the side scenes. Wishing, however, to speak with some one in -another part of the building, he left it for a moment. Some gentleman -promptly took possession, and Johnson, finding on his return that his -place was occupied, civilly demanded his seat. The gentleman rudely -refused to give it up. In a flash Johnson laid hold of him and tossed both -man and chair into the pit. - -In spite of the fact that Johnson at Pembroke suffered tortures from being -poor, and that his gay and frolicsome habits were merely a cloak to hide -his bitterness, yet he contracted a love for his college which endured to -his death. It was a matter of pride to him to run over the list of names -of the celebrated men educated at the same college: such names as Spenser, -Shenstone, Blackstone, and others. In the "Memoirs of the Life and -Correspondence of Hannah Moore" is found the following passage -illustrative of his love for the old college. "Who do you think is my -present cicerone at Oxford? Only Dr Johnson! and we do so gallant it -about! You cannot imagine with what delight he showed me every part of his -own college.... Dr Adams, the Master of Pembroke, had contrived a very -pretty piece of gallantry. We spent the day and evening at his house. -After dinner Johnson begged to conduct me to see the college, he would let -no one else show it me but himself. 'This was my room; this Shenstone's.' -Then after pointing out all the rooms of the poets who had been of his -college, 'In short,' said he, 'we were a nest of singing birds. Here we -walked, there played cricket.' He ran over with pleasure the history of -the juvenile days he passed there.... But alas! Johnson looks very ill -indeed--spiritless and wan. However he made an effort to be cheerful...." - -As a last token of his love for Pembroke he sent the college a present of -all his works. This was done just before his death, and Boswell tells us -that he was most anxious to bequeath his house at Lichfield to the college -as well. His friends, however, "very properly dissuaded him from it." - - * * * * * - -And now reluctantly I lay down my pen. It would be possible to continue -for ever with such a subject as Oxford. Oxford, filled with the mystic -echoes of the past, and the life and movement of the present, where a man -passes four of the best years of his life, making livelong friendships, -feeling things, doing things, and seeing things which remain indelibly -engraved in his mind. Memories of Oxford have moved singers and poets to -ecstasies of emotional utterance, inspired great writers with beautiful -thoughts, and have been the one ray of comforting light in dark and -miserable lives. Is there, or has there ever been, a man who, having -known the protection of the old city's walls, and explored the tree-shaded -meanderings of the limpid Cher, having rioted after an athletic triumph -and burnt the midnight oil with an intimate friend, having been, in short, -a full-blooded Undergraduate, has gone down without any love for _Alma -mater_ in his heart, who has felt no thrill in after years when looking -back upon his Oxford years? Surely such a creature was never born. -Oxford's charm is, essentially, not for the few. It strikes the heart of -every one of her countless sons. Year follows year, and century, century, -and the stream of men flows unceasingly in and out of the city's gates. -Does Oxford change, however? Another wrinkle on her face may betray the -lapse of many decades, but her beauty remains. She is still the same. - - "Still on her spire the pigeons hover; - Still by her gateway haunts the gown; - Ah, but her secret? you, young lover, - Drumming her old ones, forth from town, - Know you the secret none discover? - Tell it when you go down. - - "Yet if at length you seek her, prove her, - Lean to her whispers never so nigh; - Yet if at last not less her lover - You in your hansom leave the High; - Down from her towers a ray shall hover-- - Touch you, a passer by."[31] - - -PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND 11 YOUNG STREET. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[2] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[3] "Random Records," by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[4] "Random Records," by G. Colman the younger (London, 1830). - -[5] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[6] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[7] "Oxford Studies," by J. R. Green (Macmillan & Co). - -[8] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[9] _Ibid._ - -[10] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[11] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[12] "Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth" (London 1820). - -[13] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[14] "Reminiscences of Oxford," by L. Quiller-Couch. - -[15] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[16] "Reminiscences of a Literary Life," by T. F. Dibdin, London, 1836. - -[17] "Recollections of Particulars in Life of late Mr William Shenstone," -by the Rev. Richard Graves. - -[18] Terrae Filius. - -[19] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[20] "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon" (London, 1796). - -[21] "Essays Moral and Literary," by Vicesimus Knox. - -[22] "Oxford Studies," by J.R. Green (Messrs Macmillan & Co.). - -[23] "Social Life at the Universities," by Chris. Wordsworth. - -[24] "Life of William, Earl of Shelburne," by Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice -(London, 1895). - -[25] "University Education," by Dr Newton (London, 1726). - -[26] "Boswell's Life of Johnson." - -[27] "Miscellaneous Works of Edward Gibbon" (London, 1796). - -[28] "Reminiscences of a Literary Life," by T. F. Dibdin. - -[29] "Memoirs of R. L. Edgeworth" (London, 1820). - -[30] To which he transferred from Magdalen Hall. - -[31] A. C. Quiller-Couch. - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - -Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. - -The original text includes Greek characters that have been replaced with -transliterations in this text version. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Rowlandson's Oxford, by A. 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