Chapter VII: Preface: , in Imitation of the First Satire of Persius (4)

'There's ensign Ronnell, tall and proud,
Doth stand upon the hill,
And waves the flag to all the crowd,
Who much admire his skill.
And here I sit upon my ass,
Who lops his shaggy ears;
Mild thing! he lets the gentry pass,
Nor heeds the carriages and peel's.'

He was once infected (but it was a venial sin) by the heresies of the cockney school; and was betrayed, by the contagion of evil example, into the following conceits:

'Behold admiral Keato of the terrestrial crew, Who teaches Greek, Latin, and likewise Hebrew; He has taught Captain Dampier, the first in the race, Swirling his hat with a feathery grace, Cookson the marshal, and Willoughby, of size, Making minor serjeant-majors in looking-glass eyes.'

But he at length returned to his own pure and original style; and, like the dying swan, he sings the sweeter as he is approaching the land where the voice of his minstrelsy shall no more be heard. There is a calm melancholy in the close of his present ode which is very pathetic, and almost Shakspearian:--

'Farewell you gay and happy throng!
Farewell my muse! farewell my song!
Farewell Salt-hill! farewell brave captain.'

Yet, may it be long before he goes hence and is no more seen! May he limp, like his rhymes, for at least a dozen years; for National schools have utterly annihilated our hopes of a successor!"

"I will not attempt to reason with you," said the inquirer, "about the pleasures of Montem;--but to an ~104~~ Etonian it is enough that it brings pure and ennobling recollections--calls up associations of hope and happiness--and makes even the wise feel that there is something better than wisdom, and the great that there is something nobler than greatness. And then the faces that come about us at such a time, with their tales of old friendships or generous rivalries. I have seen to-day fifty fellows of whom I remember only the nick-names;--they are now degenerated into scheming M.P.'s, or clever lawyers, or portly doctors; -but at Montera they leave the plodding world of reality for one day, and regain the dignities of sixth-form Etonians." {4}

4 To enumerate all the distinguished persons educated at
Eton would be no easy task; many of the greatest ornaments
of our country have laid the foundation of all their
literary and scientific wealth within the towers of this
venerable edifice. Bishops Fleetwood and Pearson, the
learned John Hales, Dr. Stanhope, Sir Robert Walpole, the
great Earl Camden, Outred the mathematician, Boyle the
philosopher, Waller the poet, the illustrious Earl of
Chatham, Lord Lyttelton, Gray the poet, and an endless list
of shining characters have owned Eton for their scholastic
nursery: not to mention the various existing literati who
have received their education at this celebrated college.
The local situation of Eton is romantic and pleasing; there
is a monastic gloom about the building, finely contrasting
with the beauty of the surrounding scenery, which
irresistibly enchains the eye and heart.

~105~~

FAREWELL TO ETON.

Horatio had just concluded the last sentence of the description of the Eton Montem, when my aunt, who had now exceeded her usual retiring time by at least half an hour, made a sudden start, upon hearing the chimes of the old castle clock proclaim a notice of the midnight hour. "Heavens! boy," said Lady Mary Oldstyle, "what rakes we are! I believe we must abandon all intention of inviting your friend Bernard here; for should his conversation prove half as entertaining as these miscellaneous whims and scraps of his early years, we should, I fear, often encroach upon the midnight lamp." "You forget, aunt," replied Horatio, "that the swallow has already commenced his spring habitation beneath the housings of our bed-room window, that the long summer evenings will soon be here, and then how delightful would be the society of an intelligent friend to accompany us in our evening perambulations through the park, to chat away half an hour with in the hermitage, or to hold converse on your favourite subject botany, and run through all the varieties of the _camelia japonica_, or the _magnolia fuscata_; then too, I will confess, my own selfishness in the proposition, the pleasure of my friend's company in my fishing excursions, would divest my favourite amusement of its solitary character." ~106~~ My aunt nodded assent, drew the cowl of her ancient silk cloak over the back part of her head, and, with a half-closed eye, muttered out, in tones of sympathy, her fullest accordance in the proposed arrangement. "I have only one more trifle to read," said Horatio, "before I conclude the history of our school-boy days." "We had better have the bed-candles," said my aunt. "You had better hear the conclusion, aunt," said Horatio, "and then we can commence the English Spy with the evening of to-morrow." My aunt wanted but little excitement to accede to the request, and that little was much exceeded in the promise of Horatio's reading Bernard's new work on the succeeding evening, when she had calculated on being left in solitary singleness by her nephew's visit to the county ball. "You must know, aunt," said Horatio, "that it has been a custom, from time immemorial at Eton, for every scholar to write a farewell ode on his leaving, which is presented to the head master, and is called a Vale; in addition, some of the most distinguished characters employ first-rate artists to paint their portraits, which, as a tribute of respect, they present to the principal. Dr. Barnard had nearly a hundred of these grateful faces hanging in his sanctum sanctorum, and the present master bids fair to rival his learned and respected predecessor. ~107~~ My friend's Vale, like every other production of his pen, is marked by the distinguishing characteristic eccentricity of his mind. The idea, I suspect, was suggested by the Earl of Carlisle's elegant verses, to which he has previously alluded; you will perceive he has again touched upon the peculiarities of his associates, the _dramatis persono_ of 'the English Spy,' and endeavoured, in prophetic verse, to unfold the secrets of futurity, as it relates to their dispositions, prospects, and pursuits in life."

MY VALE.

In infancy oft' by observance we trace
What life's future page may unfold;
Who the senate, the bar, or the pulpit may grace,

Who'll obtain wreathe of fame or of gold.
My Vale, should my muse prove but willing and free,

Parting sorrows to chase from my brain,
Shall in metre prophetic, on some two or three,

Indulge in her whimsical vein.
First Keate let me give to thy talents and worth,

A tribute that all will approve;
When Atropos shall sever thy life's thread on earth

Thou shalt fall rich in honor and love.
Revered as respected thy memory last,

~108~~

Long, long, as Etona is known,
Engraved on the hearts of thy scholars, the blast

Of detraction ne'er sully thy stone.
Others too I could name and as worthy of note,

But my Vale 'twould too lengthy extend:
Sage _Domine_ all,--all deserving my vote,
Who the tutor combine with the friend.
But a truce with these ancients, the young I must seek,

The juvenile friends of my heart,
Of secrets hid in futurity speak,

And tell how they'll each play their part.
First Heartly, the warmth of thy generous heart

Shall expand with maturity's years;
New joys to the ag'd and the poor thou'lt impart,

And dry up pale Misery's tears.
Next honest Tom Echo, the giddy and gay,

In sports shall all others excel;
And the sound of his horn, with "Ho! boys, hark--away!"
Re-echo his worth through life's dell.

~109~~

Horace Eglantine deep at Pierian spring
Inspiration poetic shall quaff,
In numbers majestic with Shakespeare to sing,

Or in Lyrics with Pindar to laugh.
Little Gradus, sage Dick, you'll a senator see,

But a lawyer in every sense,
Whose personal interest must paramount be,

No matter whate'er his pretence.
The exquisite Lilyman Lionise mark,

Of fashion the fool and the sport;
With the gamesters a dupe, he shall drop like a spark,

Forgot by the blaze of the court.
Bob Transit,--if prudent, respected and rich

By his talent shall rise into note;
And in Fame's honor'd temple be sure of a niche,

By each R.A.'s unanimous vote.
Bernard Blackmantle's fortune alone is in doubt,

For prophets ne'er tell of themselves;
But one thing his heart has a long time found out,

~110~~

'Tis his love for Etonian elves.
For the college, and dames, and the dear playing fields

Where science and friendship preside,
For the spot which the balm of true happiness yields,

As each day by its fellow doth glide.
Adieu, honor'd masters! kind dames, fare thee well!

Ye light-hearted spirits adieu!
How feeble my Vale--my griev'd feelings to tell
As Etona declines from my view.

~112~~

"Men are my subject, and not fictions vain;
Oxford my chaunt, and satire is my strain."

FIVE CHARACTERISTIC ORDERS OF OXFORD.

~113~~

THE FRESHMAN.

Reflections on leaving Eton--A University Whip--Sketches on
the Road--The Joneses of Jesus--Picturesque Appearance of
Oxford from the Distance--The Arrival--Welcome of an Old
Etonian--Visit to Dr. Dingyman--A University Don--
Presentation to the Big Wig--Ceremony of Matriculation.

"Yes; if there be one sacred scene of ease,
Where reason yet may dawn, and virtue please;
Where ancient science bursts again to view
With mightier truths, which Athens never knew,
One spot to order, peace, religion dear;
Rise, honest pride, nor blush to claim it here."

Who shall attempt to describe the sensations of a young and ardent mind just bursting from the trammels of scholastic discipline to breathe the purer air of classic freedom--to leap at once from ~114~~ boyhood and subjection into maturity and unrestricted liberty of conduct; or who can paint the heart's agitation, the conflicting passions which prevail when the important moment arrives that is to separate him from the associates of his infancy; from the endearing friendships of his earliest years; from his schoolboy sports and pastimes (often the most grateful recollections of a riper period); or from those ancient spires and familiar scenes to which his heart is wedded in its purest and earliest love.

Reader, if you have ever tasted of the delightful cup of youthful friendship, and pressed with all the glow of early and sincere attachment the venerable hand of a kind instructor, or met the wistful eye and hearty grasp of parting schoolfellows, and ancient dames, and obliging servants, you will easily discover how embarrassing a task it must be to depict in words the agitating sensations which at such a moment spread their varied influence over the mind. I had taken care to secure the box seat of the old Oxford, that on my approach I might enjoy an uninterrupted view of the classic turrets and lofty spires of sacred {Academus}. Contemplation had fixed his seal upon my young lips for the first ten miles of my journey. Abstracted and thoughtful, I had scarce turned my eye to admire the beauties of the surrounding scenery, or lent my ear to the busy hum of my fellow passengers' conversation, when a sudden action of the coach, which produced a sensation of alarm, first broke the gloomy mist that had encompassed me. After my fears had subsided, I inquired of the coachman what was the name of the place we had arrived at, and was answered Henley.-"Stony Henley, sir," said our driver: "you might have discovered that by the _bit of a shake_ we just now experienced. I'll bet a _bullfinch_{1} that you know the place well enough, my young master, before you've been two terms at Oxford."

1 A sovereign.

~115~~

This familiarity of style struck me as deserving reprehension; but I reflected this classic Jehu was perhaps licensed by the light-hearted sons of _Alma Mater_ in these liberties of speech. Suspending therefore my indignation, I proceeded,--"And why so?" said I inquisitively:--"Why I know when I was an under graduate{2} of ----, where my father was principal, I used to keep a good _prad_ here for a bolt to the village,{3} and then I had a fresh hack always on the road to help me back to chapel prayers."{4} The nonchalance of the speaker, and the easy indifference with which he alluded to his former situation in life, struck me with astonishment, and created a curiosity to know more of his adventures; he had, I found, brought himself to his present degradation by a passion for gaming and driving, which had usurped every just and moral feeling. His father, I have since learned, felt his conduct deeply, and had been dead some time. His venerable mother having advanced him all her remaining property, was now reduced to a dependence upon the benevolence of a few liberal-minded Oxford friends, and this son of the once celebrated head of--------college was now so lost to every sense of shame that he preferred the Oxford road to exhibit himself on in his new character of a {university whip}.

2 The circumstances here narrated are unfortunately too
notorious to require further explanation: the character,
drawn from the life, forms the vignette to this chapter.

3 A cant phrase for a stolen run to the metropolis. No
unusual circumstance with a gay Oxonian, some of whom have
been known to ride the same horse the whole distance and
back again after prayers, and before daylight the next
morning.

4 When (to use the Oxford phrase) a man is confined to
chapel, or compelled to attend chapel prayers, it is a
dangerous risk to be missing,--a severe imposition and
sometimes rustication is sure to be the penalty.

~116~~ Immediately behind me on the roof of the vehicle sat a rosy-looking little gentleman, the rotundity of whose figure proclaimed him a man of some substance; he was habited in a suit of clerical mixture, with the true orthodox hat and rosette in front, the broadness of its brim serving to throw a fine mellow shadow over the upper part of a countenance, which would have formed a choice study for the luxuriant pencil of some modern Rubens; the eyes were partially obscured in the deep recesses of an overhanging brow, and a high fat cheek, and the whole figure brought to my recollection a representation I had somewhere seen of Silenus reproving his Bacchanals: the picture was the more striking by the contrasted subjects it was opposed to: on one side was a spare-looking stripling, of about the age of eighteen, with lank hair brushed smoothly over his forehead, and a demure, half-idiot-looking countenance, that seemed to catch what little expression it had from the reflection of its sire, for such I discovered was the ancient's affinity to this cadaverous importation from North Wales. The father, a Welsh rector of at least one hundred and fifty pounds per annum, was conveying his eldest born to the care of the principal of Jesus, of which college the family of the Joneses{5} had been a leading name since the time of their great ancestor Hugh ap Price, son of Rees ap Rees, a wealthy burgess of Brecknock, who founded this college for the sole use of the sons of Cambria, in 1571.

5 DAVID JONES OR, WINE AND WORSTED.

Hugh Morgan, cousin of that Hugh
Whose cousin was, the Lord knows who,
Was likewise, as the story runs,
Tenth cousin of one David Jones.
David, well stored with classic knowledge,
Was sent betimes to Jesus College;
Paternal bounty left him clear
For life one hundred pounds a year;
And Jones was deem'd another Croesus
Among the Commoners of Jesus.
It boots not here to quote tradition,
In proof of David's erudition;--
He could unfold the mystery high,
Of Paulo-posts, and verbs in u;
Scan Virgil, and, in mathematics,
Prove that straight lines were not quadratics.
All Oxford hail'd the youth's _ingressus_,
And wond'ring Welshmen cried "Cot pless us!"
It happen'd that his cousin Hugh
Through Oxford pass'd, to Cambria due,
And from his erudite relation
Receiv'd a written invitation.

~117~~

Hugh to the college gate repair'd,
And ask'd for Jones;--the porter stared!
"Jones! Sir," quoth he, "discriminate:
Of Mr. Joneses there be eight."
"Ay, but 'tis David Jones," quoth Hugh;
Quoth porter, "We've six Davids too."
"Cot's flesh!" cries Morgan, "cease your mockings,
My David Jones wears worsted stockings!"
Quoth porter, "Which it is, Heaven knows,
For all the eight wear worsted hose."
"My Cot!" says Hugh, "I'm ask'd to dine
With cousin Jones, and quaff his wine."
"That one word 'wine' is worth a dozen,"
Quoth porter, "now I know your cousin;
The wine has stood you, sir, in more stead
Than David, or the hose of worsted;
You'll find your friend at number nine--
We've but one Jones that quaffs his wine."

All these particulars I gleaned from the rapid delivery of the Welsh rector, who betrayed no little anxiety to discover if I was of the university; how long I had been matriculated; what was my opinion of the schools, and above all, if the same system of extravagance was pursued by the students, and under-graduates. Too cautious to confess myself a freshman, I was therefore compelled to close the inquiry with a simple negative to his early questions, and an avowal of my ignorance in the last particular. The deficiency was, however, readily supplied by an old gentleman, who sat on the other side of the reverend Mr. Jones. I had taken ~118~~ him, in the first instance, for a doctor of laws, physic, or divinity, by the studied neatness of his dress, the powdered head, and ancient appendage of a _queue_; with a measured manner of delivery, joined to an affected solemnity of carriage, and authoritative style. He knew every body, from the Vice-Chancellor to the scout; ran through a long tirade against driving and drinking, which he described as the capital sins of the sons of _Alma Mater_, complimented the old rector on his choice of a college for his son, and concluded with lamenting the great extravagance of the young men of the present day, whose affection for long credit compelled honest tradesmen to make out long bills to meet the loss of interest they sustain by dunning and delay. "Observe, sir," said he,

"The youth of England in our happy age!
See, to their view what varied pleasure springs,
Cards, tennis, hilliards, and ten thousand things;
'Tis theirs the coat with neater grace to wear,
Or tie the neckcloth with a royal air:
The rapid race of wild expense to run;
To drive the tandem or the chaise and one;
To float along the Isis, or to fly
In haste to Abingdon,--who knows not why?
To gaze in shops, and saunter hours away
In raising bills, they never think to pay:
Then deep carouse, and raise their glee the more,
While angry duns assault th' unheeding door,
And feed the best old man that ever trod,
The merry poacher who defies his God."

"You forget the long purses, Sir E--," said our classical Jehu, "which some of the Oxford tradesmen have acquired by these long practices of the university, Sir E--." The little Welsh rector bowed with astonishment, while his rustic scion stared with wild alarm to find himself for the first time in his life in company with a man of title. A wink from coachee accompanied with an action of his _rein angle_ against my side, followed by a suppressed laugh, prepared me ~119~~ for some important communications relative to my fellow traveller. "An old _snyder_,"{6} whispered Jehu, "who was once mayor of Oxford, and they do say was knighted by mistake,--' a thing of shreds and patches,'

'Who, by short skirts and little capes,
Items for buckram, twist, and tapes, '

has, in his time, fine drawn half the university; but having retired from the seat of trade, now seeks the seat of the Muses, and writes fustian rhymes and bell-men's odes at Christmas time: a mere clod, but a great man with the corporation."

We had now arrived on the heights within a short distance of the city of Oxford, and I had the gratification for the first time to obtain a glance of sacred _Academus_ peeping from between the elm groves in which she is embowered, to view those turrets which were to be the future scene of all my hopes and fears. Never shall I forget the sensations,

"----When first these glistening eyes survey'd
Majestic Oxford's hundred towers display'd;
And silver Isis rolling at her feet
Adorn the sage's and the poet's seat:
Saw Radcliffe's dome in classic beauty rear'd,
And learning's stores in Bodley's pile revered;
First view'd, with humble awe, the steps that stray'd
Slow in the gloom of academic shade,
Or framed in thought, with fancy's magic wand,
Wise Bacon's arch; thy bower, fair Rosamond."

In the bosom of a delightful valley, surrounded by the most luxuriant meadows, and environed by gently swelling hills, smiling in all the pride of cultivated beauty, on every side diversified by hanging wood, stands the fair city of learning and the arts. The two great roads from the capital converge upon the small church of St. Clement, in the eastern suburb, from whence, advancing in a westerly direction, you ~120~~ arrive at Magdalen bridge, so named from the college adjoining, whose lofty graceful tower is considered a fine specimen of architecture. The prospect of the city from this point is singularly grand and captivating; on the left, the botanical garden, with its handsome portal; beyond, steeples and towers of every varied form shooting up in different degrees of elevation. The view of the High-street is magnificent, and must impress the youthful mind with sentiments of awe and veneration. Its picturesque curve and expansive width, the noble assemblage of public and private edifices in all the pride of varied art, not rising in splendid uniformity, but producing an enchantingly varied whole, the entire perspective of which admits of no European rival--

"The awful tow'rs which seem for science made;
The solemn chapels, which to prayer invite,
Whose storied windows shed a holy light--"

the colleges of Queen's and All Souls', with the churches of St. Mary and All Saints' on the northern side of the street, and the venerable front of University College on the south, present at every step objects for contemplation and delight. Whirling up this graceful curvature, we alighted at the Mitre, an inn in the front of the High-street, inclining towards Carfax. A number of under graduates in their academicals were posted round the door, or lounging on the opposite side, to watch the arrival of the coach, and amuse themselves with quizzing the passengers. Among the foremost of the group, and not the least active, was my old schoolfellow and con, Tom Echo, now of Christ Church. The recognition was instantaneous; the welcome a hearty one, in the true Etonian style; and the first connected sentence an invitation to dinner. "I shall make a party on purpose to introduce you, old chap," said Tom, "that is, ~121~~ as soon as you have made your bow to the _big wig_:{7} but I say, old fellow, where are you entered 1 we are most of us overflowingly full here." I quickly satisfied his curiosity upon that point, by informing him I had been for some time enrolled upon the list of the foundation of Brazennose, and had received orders to come up and enter myself. Our conversation now turned upon the necessary ceremonies of matriculation.

Tom's face was enlivened to a degree when I showed him my letter of introduction to Dr. Dingyman, of L-n college. "What, the opposition member, the Oxford Palladio? Why, you might just as well expect to move the Temple of the Winds from Athens to Oxford, without displacing a fragment, as to hope the doctor will present you to the vice-chancellor.--It won't do. We must find you some more tractable personage; some good-humoured nob that stands well with the principals, tells funny stories to their ladies, and drinks his three bottles like a true son of orthodoxy." "For Heaven's sake! my dear fellow, if you do not wish to be pointed at, booked for an eccentric, or suspected of being profound, abandon all intention of being introduced through that medium. A first interview with that singular man will produce an examination that would far exceed the perils of the _great go_{8}-he will try your proficiency by the chart and scale of truth." "Be that as it may, Tom," said I, not a little alarmed by the account I had heard of the person to whom I was to owe my first introduction to alma mater, "I shall make the attempt; and should I fail, I shall yet hope to avail myself of your proffered kindness."

7 A BIG WIG. Head of a college.
A DON. A learned man.
A NOB. A fellow of a college.

8 The principal examining school.

~122~~

After partaking of some refreshment, and adjusting my dress, we sallied forth to lionise, as Tom called it, which is the Oxford term for gazing about, usually applied to strangers. Proceeding a little way along the high street from the Mitre, and turning up the first opening on our left hand, we stood before the gateway of Lincoln college. Here Tom shook hands, wished me a safe passport through what he was pleased to term the "_Oxonia purgata_" and left me, after receiving my promise to join the dinner party at Christ Church.

I had never felt so awkwardly in my life before: the apprehensions I was under of a severe examination; the difficulty of encountering a man whose superior learning and endowments of mind had rendered him the envy of the University, and above all, his reputed eccentricity of manners, created fears that almost palsied my tongue when I approached the hall to announce my arrival. If my ideas of the person had thus confounded me, my terrors were doubly increased upon entering his chamber: shelves groaning with ponderous folios and quartos of the most esteemed Latin and Greek authors, fragments of Grecian and Roman architecture, were disposed around the room; on the table lay a copy of Stuart's Athens, with a portfolio of drawings from Palladio and Vitruvius, and Pozzo's perspective. In a moment the doctor entered, and, advancing towards me, seized my hand before I could scarcely articulate my respects. "I am glad to see you--be seated--you are of Eton, I read, an ancient name and highly respected here--what works have you been lately reading?" I immediately ran through the list of our best school classics, at which I perceived the doctor smiled. "You have been treated, I perceive, like all who have preceded you: the bigotry of scholastic prejudices is intolerable. I have been for fifty years labouring to remove the veil, and have yet contrived ~123~~ to raise only one corner of it. Nothing," continued the doctor, "has stinted the growth and hindered the improvement of sound learning more than a superstitious reverence for the ancients; by which it is presumed that their works form the summit of all learning, and that nothing can be added to their discoveries. Under this absurd and ridiculous prejudice, all the universities of Europe have laboured for many years, and are only just beginning to see their error, by the encouragement of natural philosophy. Experimental learning is the only mode by which the juvenile mind should be trained and exercised, in order to bring all its faculties to their proper action: instead of being involved in the mists of antiquity." Can it be possible, thought I, this is the person of whom my friend Tom gave such a curious account? Can this be the man who is described as a being always buried in abstracted thoughtfulness on the architer cural remains of antiquity, whose opinions are said never to harmonize with those of other heads of colleges; who is described as eccentric, because he has a singular veneration for truth, and an utter abhorrence of the dogmas of scholastic prejudice 1 There are some few characters in the most elevated situations of life, who possess the amiable secret of attaching every one to them who have the honour of being admitted into their presence, without losing one particle of dignity, by their courteous manner. This agreeable qualification the doctor appeared to possess in an eminent degree. I had not been five minutes in his company before I felt as perfectly unembarrassed as if I had known him intimately for twelve months. It could not be the result of confidence on my part, for no poor fellow ever felt more abashed upon a first entrance; and must therefore only be attributable to that indescribable condescension of easy intercourse which is the sure characteristic of a superior mind.

~124~~ After inquiring who was to be my tutor, and finding I was not yet fixed in that particular, I was requested to construe one of the easiest passages in the AEneid; my next task was to read a few paragraphs of monkish Latin from a little white book, which I found contained the university statutes: having acquitted myself in this to the apparent satisfaction of the doctor, he next proceeded to give me his advice upon my future conduct and pursuits in the university; remarked that his old friend, my father, could not have selected a more unfortunate person to usher me into notice: that his habits were those of a recluse, and his associations confined almost within the walls of his own college; but that his good wishes for the son of an old friend and schoolfellow would, on this occasion, induce him to present me, in person, to the principal of Brazennose, of whom he took occasion to speak in the highest possible terms. Having ordered me a sandwich and a glass of wine for my refreshment, he left me to adjust his dress, preparatory to our visit to the dignitary. During his absence I employed the interval in amusing myself with a small octavo volume, entitled the "Oxford Spy:" the singular coincidence of the following extract according so completely with the previous remarks of the doctor, induced me to believe it was his production; but in this suspicion, I have since been informed, I was in error, the work being written by Shergold Boone, Esq. a young member of the university.

"Thus I remember, ere these scenes I saw,
But hope had drawn them, such as hope will draw,
A shrewd old man, on Isis' margin bred,
Smiled at my warmth, and shook his wig, and said:
'Youth will be sanguine, but before you go,
Learn these plain rules, and treasure, when you know.
Wisdom is innate in the gown and band;
Their wearers are the wisest of the land.

~125~~

Science, except in Oxford, is a dream;
In all things heads of houses are supreme {9}
Proctors are perfect whosoe'er they be;
Logic is reason in epitome:
Examiners, like kings, can do no wrong;
All modern learning is not worth a song:
Passive obedience is the rule of right;
To argue or oppose is treason quite:{10}
Mere common sense would make the system fall:
Things are worth nothing; words are all in all."

On his return, the ancient glanced at the work I had been reading, and observing the passage I have just quoted, continued his remarks upon the discipline of the schools.--"In the new formed system of which we boast," said the master, "the philosophy which has enlightened the world is omitted or passed over in a superficial way, and the student is exercised in narrow and contracted rounds of education, in which his whole labour is consumed, and his whole time employed, with little improvement or useful knowledge. He has neither time nor inclination to attend the public lectures in the several departments of philosophy; nor is he qualified for that attendance. All that he does, or is required to do, is to prepare himself to pass through these contracted rounds; to write a theme, or point an epigram; but when he enters upon life, action, or profession, both the little go, and the great go, he will find to be a by go; for he will find that he has gone by the best part of useful and substantial learning;

9 Know all men by these presents, that children in the uni-
versities eat pap and go in leading strings till they are
fourscore. --Terro Filius.

10 In a work quaintly entitled "Phantasm of an University,"
there occurs this sweeping paragraph, written in the true
spirit of radical reform: "Great advantages might be
obtained by gradually transforming Christ Church into a
college of civil polity and languages; Magdalen, Queen's,
University, into colleges of moral philosophy; New and
Trinity into colleges of fine arts; and the five halls into
colleges of agriculture and manufactures."

126~~ or that it has gone by him: to recover which he must repair from this famous seat of learning to the institutions of the metropolis, or in the provincial towns. I have just given you these hints, that you may escape the errors of our system, and be enabled to avoid the pomp of learning which is without the power, and acquire the power of knowledge without the pomp." Here ended the lecture, and my venerable conductor and myself made the best of our way to pay our respects to the principal of my future residence.

Arrived here--the principal, a man of great dignity, received us with all due form, and appeared exceedingly pleased with the visit of my conductor; my introduction was much improved by a letter from the head master of Eton, who, I have no doubt, said more in my favour than I deserved. The appointment of a tutor was the next step, and for this purpose I was introduced to Mr. Jay, a smart-looking little man, very polite and very portly, with whom I retired to display my proficiency in classical knowledge, by a repetition of nearly the same passages in Homer and Virgil I had construed previously with the learned doctor; the next arrangement was the sending for a tailor, who quickly produced my academical robes and cap, in the which, I must confess, I at first felt rather awkward. I was now hurried to the vice-chancellor's house adjoining Pembroke college, where I had the honour of a presentation to that dignitary; a mild-looking man of small stature, with the most affable and graceful manners, dignified, and yet free from the slightest tinge of _hauteur_. His reception of my tutor was friendly and unembarrassing; his inquiries relative to myself directed solely to my proficiency in the classics, of which I had again to give some specimens; I was then directed to subscribe my name in a large folio album, which proved to contain the thirty-nine articles, not one ~127~~ sentence of which I had ever read; but it was too late for hesitation, and I remembered Tom Echo had informed me I should have to attest to a great deal of nonsense, which no one ever took the pains to understand. The remainder of this formal initiation was soon despatched: I separately abjured the damnable doctrines of the pope, swore allegiance to the king, and vowed to preserve the statutes and privileges of the society I was then admitted into; paid my appointed fees, made my bow to the vice-chancellor, and now concluded that the ceremony of the _togati_ was all over: in this, however, I was mistaken; my tutor requesting some conference with me at his rooms, thither we proceeded, and arranged the plan of my future studies; then followed a few general hints relative to conduct, the most important of which was my obeisance to the dignitaries, by capping{11} whenever I met them; the importance of a strict attendance to the lectures of logic, mathematics, and divinity, to the certain number of twenty in each term; a regular list of the tradesmen whom I was requested to patronize; and, lastly, the entry of my name upon the college books and payment of the necessary _caution money_.{12} _Entering_ keeps one term; but as rooms were vacant, I was fortunate in obtaining an immediate appointment. As the day was now far advanced, I deemed it better to return to my inn and dress for the dinner party at Christ Church.

11 Capping--by the students and under graduates is touching
the cap to the vice-chancollor, proctors, fellows, &c. when
passing. At Christ Church tradesmen and servants must walk
bareheaded through the quadrangle when the dean, canons,
censors, or tutors are present. At Pembroke this order is
rigidly enforced, even in wet weather. At Brazennose neither
servants nor tradesmen connected with the college are
allowed to enter it otherwise. It is not long since a
certain bookseller was discommoned for wearing his hat in B-
n-e quadrangle, and literally ruined in consequence.

12 Caution money--a sum of money deposited in the hands of
the treasurer or bursar by every member on his name being
entered upon the college books, as a security for the
payment of all bills and expenses contracted by him within
the walls of the college. This money is returned when the
party takes his degree or name off the books; and no man can
do either of these without receipts in full from the butler,
manciple, and cook of their respective colleges.

~128~~

~129~~ Architectural Reminiscences--Descriptive Remarks--Similitude
between the Characters of Cardinal Wolsey and Napoleon.

It was past five o'clock when I arrived before the majestic towers of Christ Church.--The retiring sun brightening the horizon with streaks of gold at parting, shed a rich glow over the scene that could not fail to rivet my attention to the spot. Not all the fatigues of the day, nor the peculiarities of my new situation, had, in the least, abated my admiration of architectural beauties. The noble octagonal tower in the enriched Gothic style, rising like a colossal ~130~~ monument of art among the varied groups of spires, domes, and turrets, which from a distance impress the traveller with favourable ideas of the magnificence of Oxford, first attracted my notice, and recalled to my memory two names that to me appear to be nearly associated (by comparison) with each other, Wolsey and Napoleon; both gifted by nature with almost all the brightest qualifications of great minds; both arriving at the highest point of human grandeur from the most humble situations; equally the patrons of learning, science, and the arts; and both equally unfortunate, the victims of ambition: both persecuted exiles; yet, further I may add, that both have left behind them a fame which brightens with increasing years, and must continue to do as every passing day removes the mist of prejudice from the eyes of man. Such were the thoughts that rushed upon my mind as I stood gazing on the splendid fabric before me, from the western side of St. Aidates, unheedful of the merry laughter-loving group of students and under-graduates, who, lounging under the vaulted gateway, were amusing themselves at my expense in quizzing a freshman in the act of lionising. The tower contains the celebrated _Magnus Thomas_, recast from the great bell of Osney abbey, by whose deep note at the hour of nine in the evening the students are summoned to their respective colleges. The upper part of the tower displays in the bracketed canopies and carved enrichments the skilful hand of Sir Christopher Wren, whose fame was much enhanced by the erection of the gorgeous turrets which project on each side of the gateway.{1} Not caring to endure a closer attack of the _togati_, who had now approached me, I crossed and entered the great quadrangle, or, according to Oxford phraseology, _Tom Quad_. The irregular nature of the buildings here by no means assimilate with the elegance of the exterior entrance.

1 It was here, in Lord Orford's opinion, that he "caught the
graces of the true Gothic taste."

~131~~ The eastern, northern, and part of the southern sides of the quadrangle are, I have been since informed, inhabited by the dean and canons; the western by students. The broad terrace in front of the buildings, the extent of the arena, and the circular basin of water in the centre, render this an agreeable promenade.--I had almost forgotten the deity of the place (I hope not symbolical), a leaden Mercury{2}; the gift of Dr. John Radcliffe, which rises from the centre of the basin, on the spot where once stood the sacred cross of St. Frideswide, and the pulpit of the reformer, Wickliffe.

2 Since pulled down and destroyed.

THE DINNER PARTY.

Bernard Blackmantles Visit to Tom Echo---Oxford Phraseology-
Smuggled Dinners--A College Party described--Topography of a
Man's Boom--Portrait of a Bachelor of Arts--Hints to
Freshmen--Customs of the University.

~132~~ "When first the freshman, bashful, blooming, young, Blessings which here attend not handmaids long, Assumes that cap, which franchises the man, And feels beneath the gown dilate his span; When he has stood with modest glance, shy fear, And stiff-starch'd band before our prime vizier, And sworn to articles he scarcely knew, And forsworn doctrines to his creed all new: Through fancy's painted glass he fondly sees Monastic turrets, patriarchal trees, The cloist'ral arches' awe-inspiring shade, The High-street sonnetized by Wordsworth's jade, His raptured view a paradise regards, Nurseling of hope! he builds on paper cards."

On the western side of Tom Quad, up one flight of stairs, by the porter's aid I discovered the battered oaken door which led to the _larium_ of my friend Echo: that this venerable bulwark had sustained many a brave attack from besiegers was visible in the numerous bruises and imprints of hammers, crowbars, and other weapons, which had covered its surface with many an indented scar. The utmost caution was apparent in the wary scout,{1}

1 A Scout, at Christ Church, performs the same duties for
ten or twelve students as a butler and valet in a
gentleman's family. There are no women bedmakers at any
college except Christ Church, that duty being performed by
the scout.

~133~~ who admitted me; a necessary precaution, as I afterwards found, to prevent the prying eye of some inquisitive domine, whose nose has a sort of instinctive attraction in the discovery of smuggled dinners.{2}

Within I found assembled half a dozen good-humoured faces, all young, and all evidently partaking of the high flow of spirits and animated vivacity of the generous hearted Tom Echo. A college introduction is one of little ceremony, the surname alone being used,--a practice, which, to escape quizzing, must also be followed on your card. "Here, old fellows," said Tom, taking me by the hand, and leading me forwards to his companions, "allow me to introduce an ex{3}-college man,--Blackmantle of Brazennose, a freshman{4} and an Etonian: so, lay to him, boys; he's just broke loose from the Land of Sheepishness,{5} passed Pupils Straits{6} and the Isle of Matriculation{7} to follow Dads Will,{8} in the Port of Stuffs{9}; from which, if he can steer clear of the Fields of Temptation{10}

2 Smuggled dinners are private parties in a student's room,
when the dinner is brought into college from a tavern:
various are the ingenious stratagems of the togati to elude
the vigilance of the authorities: trunks, packing-boxes,
violoncello-cases, and hampers are not unfrequently directed
as if from a waggon or coach-office, and brought into
college on the shoulders of some porter. Tin cans of soup
are drawn up by means of a string from the back windows in
the adjoining street. It is not long since Mr. C- of Christ
Church was expelled for having a dinner smuggled into
college precisely in the manner adopted by Tom Echo.

3 A University man who is visiting in a college of which he
is

not a member.

4 The usual phrase for initiating a freshman on his first
appearance in a party or frisk.

5 Land of Sheepishness--School-boy's bondage.

6 Pupil's Straits--Interval between restraint and liberty.

7 Isle of Matriculation--First entrance into the University.

8 Dad's Will--Parental authority.

9 Port for Stay's--Assumption of commoner's gown.

10 Fields of Temptation--The attractions held out to him.

~134~~ he hopes to make the _Land of Promise_,{11} anchor his bark in the _Isthmus of Grace_,{12} and lay up snugly for life on the _Land of Incumbents_."{13} "For heaven's sake, Tom," said I," speak in some intelligible language; it's hardly fair to fire off your battery of Oxonian wit upon a poor freshman at first sight." At this moment a rap at the _oak_ announced an addition to our party, and in bounded that light-hearted child of whim, Horace Eglantine:--"What, Blackmantle here? Why then, Tom, we can form as complete a trio as ever got _bosky_{14} with _bishop_{15} in _the province of Bacchus_,{16}! Why, what a plague, my old fellow, has given you that rueful-looking countenance? I am sure you was not plucked upon _Maro Common_ or _Homer Downs_{17} in passing examination with the big wig this morning; or has Tom been frisking{18} you already with some of his jokes about the _straits of independency_{19}; the _waste of ready_{20}; the dynasty of Venus,{21} or the quicksands of rustication{22}.

11 Land of Promise--The fair expectations of a steady novice
in Oxford.

12 Isthmus of Grace--Obtainment of the grace of one's
college.

13 Land of Incumbents--Good livings.

14 Bosky is the term used in Oxford to express the style of
being "half seas over."

15 Bishop--A good orthodox mead composed of port wine and
roasted oranges or lemons.

16 Province of Bacchus--Inebriety.

17 Maro Common and Homer Downs allude to the AEneid of
Virgil and the Iliad of Homer--two books chiefly studied for
the little-go or responsions.

18 Frisking--Hoaxing.

19 Straits of Independency--Frontiers of extravagance.

20 Waste of Ready, including in it Hoyle's Dominions--
Course of gambling, including Loo tables.

21 Dynasty of Venus--Indiscriminate love and misguided
affections.

22 Quicksands of Rustication--On which our hero may at any
time run foul when inclined to visit a new county.

~135~~ Cheer up, old fellow! you are not half way through the ceremony of initiation yet. We must brighten up that solemn phiz of yours, and give you a lesson or two on college principles? If I had been thrown upon some newly-discovered country, among a race of wild Indians, I could not have been more perplexed and confounded than I now felt in endeavouring to rally, and appear to comprehend this peculiar phraseology.

A conversation now ensuing between a gentleman commoner, whom the party designated Pontius Pilate{23} and Tom Echo, relative to the comparative merits of their hunters, afforded me an opportunity of surveying the _larium_ of my friend; the entrance to which was through a short passage, that served the varied purposes of an ante-room or vestibule, and a scout's pantry and boot-closet. On the right was the sleeping-room, and at the foot of a neat French bed I could perceive the wine bin, surrounded by a regiment of _dead men_{24} who had, no doubt, departed this life like heroes in some battle of Bacchanalian sculls. The principal chamber, the very _penetrale_ of the Muses, was about six yards square, and low, with a rich carved oaken wainscoting, reaching to the ceiling; the monastic gloom being materially increased by two narrow loopholes, intended for windows, but scarcely yielding sufficient light to enable the student to read his _Scapula or Lexicon_{25} with the advantage of a meridian sun: the fire-place was immensely wide, emblematical, no doubt, of the capacious stomachs of the good fathers and fellows, the ancient inhabitants of this _sanctum_; but the most singularly-striking characteristic was the modern decorations, introduced by the present occupant.

23 A quaint cognomen applied to him from the rapidity with
which he boasted of repeating the Nicene Creed,--i.e.
offering a bet that no would give any man as far as "Pontius
Pilate," and beat him before he got to the "resurrection of
the dead."

24 Dead Men--Empty bottles.

25 Scapula, Hederic, and Lexicon, the principal
Dictionaries in use for studying Greek.

~136~~ Over the fire-place hung a caricature portrait of a well-known Bachelor of Arts, drinking at the _Pierian spring, versus_ gulping down the contents of a Pembroke _overman_,{26} sketched by the facetious pencil of the humorist, Rowlandson.

ECCE SIGNUM.

I could not help laughing to observe on the one side of this jolly personage a portrait of the little female Giovanni Vestris, under which some wag had inscribed, "_A Mistress of Hearts_," and on the other a full-length of Jackson the pugilist, with this motto--"A striking likeness of a fancy lecturer."

26 An Herman--At Pembroke, a large silver tankard, holding
two quarts and half a pint, so called from the donor, Mr.
George Overman. The late John Hudson, the college tonsor
and _common room man_,{*} was famous for having several
times, for trifling wagers, drank a full overman of strong
beer off at a draught. A Tun, another vessel in use at
Pembroke, is a half pint silver cup. A Whistler, a silver
pint tankard also in use there, was the gift of Mr. Anthony
Whistler, a cotemporary with Shenstone.

* Common room man, a servant who is entirely employed in
attending upon the members of the common room.

Junior common room, a room in every college, except Christ
Church, set apart for the junior members to drink wine in
and read the newspapers.

N.B. There is but one common room at Christ Church; none but
masters of arts and noblemen can be members of it,--the
latter but seldom attend. The last who attended was the late
Duke of Dorset. All common rooms are regularly furnished
with newspapers and magazines.

_Curator of the common rooms_.-A senior master of arts, who
buys the wine and inspects the accounts.

~137~~ In the centre of the opposite side hung the portrait of an old _scout_, formerly of Brazennose, whose head now forms the admission ticket to the college club. Right and left were disposed the plaster busts of Aristotle and Cicero; the former noseless, and the latter with his eyes painted black, and a huge pair of mustachios annexed. A few volumes of the Latin and Greek classics were thrown into a heap in one corner of the room, while numerous modern sporting publications usurped their places on the book shelves, richly gilt and bound in calf, but not lettered. The hunting cap, whip, and red coat were hung up like a trophy between two foxes' tails, which served the purpose of bell pulls. At this moment, my topographical observations were disturbed by the arrival of the scout with candles, and two strange-looking fellows in smock frocks, bringing in, as I supposed, a piano forte, but which, upon being placed on the table, proved to be a mere case: the top being taken off, the sides and ends let down in opposite directions, and the cloth pulled out straight, displayed an elegant dinner, smoking hot, and arranged in as much form as if the college butler had superintended the feast. "Come, old fellow," said Tom, "turn to--no ceremony. I hope, Jem," addressing his scout, "you took care that no ~138~~ college telegraph{27} was at work while you were smuggling the dinner in." "I made certain sure of that, sir," said Jem; "for I placed Captain Cook{28} sentinel at one corner of the quadrangle, and old Brady at the other, with directions to whistle, as a signal, if they saw any of the _dons_ upon the look out."

Finding we were not likely to be interrupted by the _domine_, Tom took the chair. The fellows in the smock frocks threw off their disguises, and proved to be two genteelly dressed waiters from one of the inns. "Close the oak, Jem," said Horace Eglantine, "and take care no one knocks in{29} before we have knocked down the contents of your master's musical melange." "_Punning_ as usual, Eglantine," said the Honourable Mr. Sparkle, a gentleman commoner. "Yes; and _pun_-ishing too, old fellow!" said Horace. "Where's the _cold tankard_,{30} Echo?

27 A college telegraph--A servant of a college, who carries
an account of every trifling offence committed, either by
gentlemen or servants, to the college officers.

28 Well-known characters in Christ Church.

29 Knocking in--Going into college after half-past ten at
night. The names of the gentlemen who knock in are entered
by the porter in a book kept for that purpose, and the next
morning it is carried to the dean and censors, who generally
call upon the parties so offending to account for being out
of college at so late an hour. A frequent recurrence of this
practice will sometimes draw from the dean a very severe
reprimand.

Knocking in money--Fines levied for knocking into college at
improper hours: the first fine is fixed at half-past ten,
and increased every half hour afterwards. These fines are
entered on the batter book, and charged among the battels
and decrements,* a portion of which is paid to the porter
quarterly, for being knocked up.

30 Cold tankard--A summer beverage, used at dinner, made of
brandy, cider, or perry, lemons cut in slices, cold water,
sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, and the herbs balm and burridge.
Sometimes sherry or port wine is substituted for cider. The
tankard is put into a pitcher, which is iced in a tub,
procured from the confectioners.

* Decrements.--The use of knives, folks, spoons, and other
necessaries, with the firing, &c. for the hall and chapel.