In the interval between the foundation of New College and the

revolution, religious and intellectual, which we call the Reformation,

were founded Lincoln, All Souls', Magdalen, and Brasenose. Lincoln, All

Souls', and Brasenose lie immediately round us, close to what was the

centre of academical life. Magdalen we recognise in the distance by the

most beautiful of towers. Lincoln was theological, and was peculiar in

being connected with two of the Churches of Oxford, which its members

served, and the tithes and oblations of which formed its endowment. Its

Founder, Fleming, Bishop of Lincoln, had as a graduate resident at

Oxford been noted for sympathy with the Wycliffites. But when he became

Bishop of Lincoln, the fact dawned upon him that the Scriptures too

freely interpreted were dangerous. He went over to the Reaction, burned

Wycliffe's body, and determined to found a little college of true

students in theology, who would "defend the mysteries of the sacred page

against those ignorant laics who profaned with swinish snouts its most

holy pearls." His successor, Bishop Rotherham, being of the same mind,

carried forward the work, and gave the College statutes enjoining the

expulsion of any Fellow convicted of favouring in public or in private

heretical tenets, and in particular the tenets of "that heretical sect

lately sprung up which assails the sacraments, diverse orders and

dignities, and properties of the Church." Rotherham had evidently a keen

and just sense of the fact, that with the talismanic sacraments of the

Church were bound up its dignity and wealth. The two orthodox prelates

would have stood aghast if they could have foreseen that their little

College of true theologians would one day number among its Fellows John

Wesley, and that Methodism would be cradled within its walls. They would

not less have stood aghast if they could have foreseen that such a chief

of Liberals as Mark Pattison, would one day be its Rector. The history

of these foundations is full of lessons for benefactors who fancy that

they can impress their will upon posterity.

All Souls' was designed by its Founder, Archbishop Chicheley, _ad

orandum_ as well as _ad studendum_; it was to serve the purpose of a

chantry not less than of a College. The sculptured group of souls over

the gateway in High Street denotes that the Warden and Fellows were to

pray for the souls of all Christian people. But particularly were they

to pray for the souls of "the illustrious Prince Henry, late King of

England, of Thomas, Duke of Clarence, and of all the Dukes, Earls,

Barons, Knights, Esquires, and others who fell in the war for the Crown

of France." Of that unhappy war Chicheley had been the adviser; and

seeing the wreck which his folly, or, if the suspicion immortalised by

Shakespeare is true, his selfish policy, as the head of a bloated

Establishment threatened with depletion, had wrought, he may well have

felt the sting of conscience in his old age. The figures in the new

reredos of the Chapel tell the story of the foundation.

* * * * *

[Illustration: ST. JOHN'S PULPIT.

Magdalen College, First Quadrangle.]

Magdalen was the work of Waynflete, Bishop of Winchester and Chancellor

of Henry VI., another statesman-prelate who turned from the political

storm to found a house of learning. Of all the houses of learning in

England, perhaps of any country, that which Waynflete founded is the

loveliest, as he will say who stands in its cloistered and ivy-mantled

quadrangle, either beneath the light of the summer's sun or that of the

winter's moon. Some American architect, captivated by the graces of

Magdalen, has reproduced them in his plan for a new University

in California. Those courts, when newly built, were darkened by the

presence of Richard III. Waynflete came to Oxford to receive the king;

and this homage, paid by a saintly man, seems to show that in those

fierce times of dynastic change, Richard, before the murder of his

nephews, was not regarded as a criminal usurper, perhaps not as a

usurper at all. The tyrant was intellectual. In him, as still more

notably in Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester, nicknamed for his cruelty the

Butcher, but literary and a benefactor to the University, was something

like an English counterpart of the mixture in the Italian Renaissance of

culture with licentiousness and crime. But as he sat beside Waynflete

in the Hall wooing popularity by apparent attention to the exercises,

Richard's thoughts probably were far away. A red rose among the

architectural ornaments is found to have been afterwards painted white.

It changed, no doubt, with fortune, when she left the red for the white

rose. A new relation between College and University is inaugurated by

the institution at Magdalen of three Readers to lecture to the

University at large.

* * * * *

The old quadrangle of Brasenose remains much as it was left by its

co-founders, a munificent Bishop and a pious Knight. It is of no special

historic interest, and its importance belongs to later times. It

absorbed several Halls, the sign of one of which was probably the brazen

nose which now adorns its gate, and so far it marks an epoch.

* * * * *

The quiet and sombre old quadrangle of Corpus Christi lies yonder, by

the side of Merton, much as its Founder left it. Now we have come to the

real dawn of the English Renaissance, a gray dawn which never became a

very bright day; for in England, as in Germany and other Teutonic

countries, reawakened and emancipated intellect turned to the pursuit of

truth rather than of beauty, and the great movement was less a birth of

literature and of art than of reformation in religion. This is the age

of Grocyn, the teacher of Greek; of Linacre, the English Hippocrates; of

Colet, the regenerator of education; of Sir Thomas More, who carried

culture to the Chancellorship of the realm, and whose "Utopia" proclaims

the growth of fresh aspirations and the opening of a new era in one way,

as Rabelais did in another. Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, uncle of Henry

VI., had perhaps opened the epoch at Oxford by his princely gift of

books, in which the Renaissance literature was strongly represented, and

which was the germ of the University Library. Soon Erasmus will visit

Oxford and chant in elegant Latin the praises of the classical and

cultured circle which he finds there. Now rages the war between the

humanists of the new classical learning, called the Greeks, and its

opponents, the Trojans, who desired to walk in the ancient paths, and

who, though bigoted and grotesque, were, after all, not far wrong in

identifying heresy with Greek, since the study of the New Testament in

the original was subversive of the mediaeval faith. Again, as in the

cases of Merton, Wykeham, and Waynflete, a statesman-prelate turns in

old age from the distractions of State to found a house of learning.

Foxe, Bishop of Winchester, was the chief counsellor and diplomatist of

Henry VII., in whose service he had no doubt passed anxious hours and

trodden dark paths. It may have been partly for the good of his soul

that he proposed to found a house in Oxford for the reception of young

monks from St. Swithin's Priory in Winchester while studying in Oxford.

He was diverted from that design, and persuaded to found a College

instead, by his friend Hugh Oldham, Bishop of Exeter, who is represented

as saying, "What, my Lord, shall we build houses and provide livelihoods

for a company of bussing monks whose end and fall we ourselves may live

to see? No, no. It is more meet, a great deal, that we should have care

to provide for the increase of learning and for such as by their

learning shall do good in the Church and Commonwealth." Supposing the

prognostication embodied in these words genuine, they show that to an

enlightened Bishop the dissolution of the Monasteries seemed inevitable.

The statutes of Foxe's College are written in a style which affects the

highest classical elegance. They elaborate throughout the metaphor of a

bee-hive with its industrious insects and its store of intellectual

honey. They embody the hopes of the Renaissance and depict a College of

the Humanities. There is to be a Reader in Greek, and for the subjects

of his lectures a long list of great Greek authors is assigned. There is

to be a Reader of Latin, for whose lectures a similar list of Latin

authors is given, and who is to keep "barbarism," that mortal sin in

the eyes of a devotee of the Renaissance, out of the hive. Theology is

not forgotten. The Founder pays a due, possibly somewhat conventional,

tribute to its surpassing importance. Of this, also, there is a

Professor, but its guides in interpreting Scripture are not to be the

mediaeval textbooks, such as Aquinas and the Master of the Sentences, but

the Greek and Latin Fathers, including the daring Origen and Augustine

the favourite of Luther. The Readers are to lecture not to the College

only, but to the University at large, a new provision, connecting the

College with the University, which hardly took effect till very recent

times. One of the first Readers was the learned Spaniard, Juan Luis

Vives, whose appointment bespoke the cosmopolitan character of the

humanist republic of letters. The statutes were signed by the Founder

with a trembling hand eight months before his death, so that only in

imagination did he see his literary bees at work.

* * * * *

Yonder to the south is Tom Tower, where hangs the great bell, which,

"swinging slow with sullen roar," was heard by Milton at Forest Hill. It

was tolled a hundred and one times for the hundred and one students of

Wolsey's House. The Tower, or Cupola, was the work, not of Wolsey but

of Wren. Around the great quadrangle over which it rises are seen the

lines for cloisters which were never built. The balustrade on the top of

the quadrangle is an alien work of modern times. The Church of St.

Frydeswide's Monastery does duty as the College Chapel, in place of the

grand Chapel in the perpendicular style, which, had the Founder's plan

taken effect, would have stood there. Moreover, that which should have

been wholly a College is made to serve and to expend a part of its power

as the Chapter of the Diocese of Oxford, lending its Chapel as the

Cathedral, a niggardly arrangement which has been productive of strained

relations between occupants of the See and Heads of the College. Ample

and noble are the courts of Wolsey. Worthy of his magnificence is the

great Hall, the finest room, barring Westminster Hall, in England, and

filled with those portraits of _Alumni_, which, notwithstanding the

frequency of pudding sleeves, form the fairest tapestry with which hall

was ever hung. But it all falls short of Wolsey's conception. Had

Wolsey's conception been fulfilled, Ipswich would have been a nursery of

scholars for Cardinal College, as Winchester was for New College, and

Eton for King's College, Cambridge. The Cardinal was an English Leo X.

in morals, tastes, perhaps in beliefs; a true Prince, not of the Church

but of the Renaissance. For him, perhaps, as for Foxe, it was a

refreshment to turn from public life, full, as it must have been, of

care and peril for the Vizier of a headstrong and capricious despot, to

the calm happiness of seeing his great College rise, and gathering into

it the foremost of teachers and the flower of students. But in the midst

of his enterprise the sky of the Renaissance became overcast with

clouds, and the storm of religious revolution, which had long been

gathering, broke. Forewarnings of the storm Wolsey had received, for he

had found that in opening his gates to the highest intellectual activity

he had opened them to free inquiry and to heterodoxy. Himself, too, had

set the example of suppressing monasteries, though he did this not for

mere rapine or to gorge his parasites, but to turn useless and abused

endowments to a noble use. Wolsey all but drew his foundation down with

him in his fall. The tyrant and his minions were builders of nothing but

ruin. Christ Church, as at last it was called, was threatened with

confiscation and destruction, but was finally spared in its incomplete

condition, appropriated by Henry as his own foundation, and dedicated to

the honour of the king, whose portrait, in its usual attitude of

obtrusive self-conceit, occupies in the Hall the central place, where

the portrait of the Cardinal should be. The Cardinal's hat, on the

outer wall of the house, is left to speak of the true Founder. That the

College was to be called after its Founder's name, not, like the

Colleges of Wykeham and Waynflete, after the name of a Saint, seems a

symptom of the pride which went before Wolsey's fall.

* * * * *

Now come upon the hapless University forty years of religious

revolution, the monuments of which are traces of destruction and records

of proscription. All the monastic houses and houses for monastic novices

were forfeited to the Crown, and their buildings were left desolate,

though, from the ruins of some of them, new Colleges were afterwards to

rise. Libraries which would now be priceless, were sacked and destroyed

because the illumination on the manuscripts was Popish. It was the least

to be deplored of all the havoc, that the torn leaves of the arid tomes

of Duns Scotus were seen flying about the quadrangle of New College,

while a sporting gentleman of the neighbourhood was picking them up to

be used in driving the deer. There is a comic monument of the religious

revolution in the coffer shrine at Christ Church, in which the dust of

Catherine, wife of the Protestant Doctor, Peter Martyr, is mingled with

that of the Catholic Saint, Frydeswide. Catholicism, in its hour of

triumph under Mary, had dug up the corpse of the heretic's concubine and

buried it under a dung-hill. Protestantism, once more victorious,

rescued the remains, and guarded against a repetition of the outrage, in

case fortune should again change, by mingling them with those of the

Catholic Saint. A more tragic memorial of the conflict is yonder

recumbent cross in Broad Street, close to the spot, then a portion of

the town ditch, where Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley died. Bocardo, the

prison over the neighbouring gate of the city, from the window of which

Cranmer, then confined there, witnessed the burning of Latimer and

Ridley, was pulled down at the beginning of this century. The Divinity

School, Christ Church Cathedral, and St. Mary's Church witnessed

different scenes of the drama. St. Mary's witnessed that last scene, in

which Cranmer filled his enemies with fury and confusion by suddenly

recanting his recantation, and declaring that the hand which had signed

it should burn first. College archives record the expulsion,

readmission, and re-expulsion of Heads and Fellows, as victory inclined

to the Protestant or Catholic side. So perished the English Renaissance.

For the cultivation of the humanities there could be no room in a centre

of religious strife.

* * * * *

Fatal bequests of the religious war were the religious tests. Leicester,

as Chancellor, introduced subscription to the Thirty-nine Articles to

keep out Romanists; King James, that to the three articles of the

Thirty-sixth Canon to keep out Puritans. These tests, involving scores

of controverted propositions in theology, were imposed on the

consciences of mere boys. The Universities were thus taken from the

nation and given to the State Church, which, in the course of time, as

dissent from its doctrines gained ground, came to be far from identical

with the nation.

* * * * *

[Illustration: ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE--GARDEN FRONT.]

In the first lull, however, new Colleges arose, partly out of the ruins

of the monastic houses of the past. Trinity College, of which the quiet

old quadrangle is curiously mated with a fantastic Chapel of much later

date, was founded out of the ruin of Durham College, a Benedictine

House. Its Founder, Sir Thomas Pope, was one of that group of highly

educated lay statesmen, eminent both in the councils of kings and among

the patrons of learning, which succeeded the great Prelates of the

Middle Ages. He was a Catholic, as his statutes show; but a liberal

Catholic, not unfriendly to light, though little knowing perhaps whither

it would lead him. Among his friends was Sir Nicholas Bacon, who

bequeathed to him the splendid whistle, then used to call servants,

which is seen round his neck in his portrait. Another of his friends was

Pole, who showed his intellectual liberality by recommending him to

enjoin in his statutes the study of Greek. St. John's College, again,

rose out of the wreck of a Bernardine House. The Founder was not a

statesman or a prelate, but a great citizen, Sir Thomas White, sometime

Lord Mayor of London, who had amassed wealth in trade, and made a noble

use of it. White also was of the olden faith. That the storm was not

over when his College was founded is tragically shown by the fate of

Campion, who, when White was laid in the College Chapel, preached the

funeral sermon, and afterwards becoming a Jesuit and an emissary of

his Order, was brought to the rack and to the scaffold. There was also a

great secession of Fellows when the final rupture took place between

Rome and Elizabeth. In the group of cultivated Knights and statesmen,

who patronised learning and education, may be placed Sir William Petre,

the second Founder of Exeter College, whose monument is its old

quadrangle, and Sir Thomas Bodley, whose monument is the Bodleian

Library. If Petre and Bodley were Protestants, while Pope and White were

Catholics, the difference was rather political than religious. In

religion the public men changed with the national government, little

sharing the passions of either theological party.

* * * * *

Jesus, whose old quadrangle, chapel, and hall belong to early Stuart

times, was the first distinctly Protestant College. This its name, in

contrast with Colleges named after Saints, denotes. The second

Protestant College was Wadham, the buildings of which stand in their

pristine beauty, vying with Magdalen, perhaps even excelling it in the

special air of a house of learning, and proving that to be interesting

and impressive it is not necessary to be mediaeval. At the same time

Wadham shows how long the spirit of the Middle Ages clung to Oxford; for

the style of the Chapel is anterior by a century and a half to the date.

Here we have a conscious desire, on the part of the architect, to

recall the past. The Founder, Sir Nicholas Wadham, was a wealthy Western

land-owner. We may dismiss the tradition that his first design was to

found a College of Roman Catholic priests in Italy, and his second to

found a Protestant College at Oxford, as at most significant of the

prolonged wavering of the religious balance in the minds of a number of

the wealthier class. The statutes were, in the main, like those of the

mediaeval Colleges, saving in making the Fellowship terminable after

about twenty-two years, thus more clearly designating the College as a

school for active life. The prohibition of marriage was retained, not as

an ascetic ordinance, but as a concomitant of the College system. In

the mediaeval Colleges it was not necessary to extend the prohibition to

the Heads, who, being priests, were bound to celibacy by the regulations

of their Order; but marriage being now permitted to the clergy

generally, the prohibition was in the statutes of Wadham expressly

extended, in the interest of the College system, to the Head. Hence it

is an aspersion on the reputation of Dame Dorothy Wadham, who, after her

husband's death, carried out his design, and whose effigy kneels

opposite that of her loving lord in the old quadrangle, to say that she

was in love with the first Warden, and because he would not marry her,

forbade him by statute to marry any other woman.

[Illustration: WADHAM COLLEGE--GARDEN FRONT.]

* * * * *

These foundations, followed by that of Pembroke and the building of the

South quadrangle of Merton, of the South quadrangle of Lincoln, of the

West front of St. John's, of the quadrangle and hall of Exeter, of part

of the quadrangle of Oriel, of the West quadrangle of University

College, as well as of the Bodleian Library, the Schools' quadrangle,

the Convocation House, and of the gateway of the Botanic Garden, prove

that, though the old University system, with its scholastic exercises,

had become hollow, there was life in Oxford, and the interest of patrons

of learning was attracted to it during the period between the

Reformation and the Rebellion. It was also felt to be a centre of power.

Elizabeth twice visited it, once in the heyday of her youthful glory,

and again in her haggard decline. On the first occasion she exerted with

effect those arts of popularity which were the best part of her

statesmanship. On both occasions she was received with ecstatic flattery

and entertained with academical exercises at tedious length, and plays,

to our taste not less tedious, performed in College Halls. Her successor

could not fail to exhibit himself in a seat of learning, where he felt

supreme, and, to do him justice, was not unqualified, to shine. To his

benignity the University owes the questionable privilege of sending two

members to the House of Commons, whereby it became entangled in

political as well as in theological frays.

* * * * *

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