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~~

[Illustration: page128]

[Illustration: page129]

~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."

[Illustration: page131]

~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.

[Illustration: page136]

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.

~139~~ We must give our old _con_, Blackmantle, a warm reception."

"Sure, that's a Paddyism"{31} said a young Irish student. "Nothing of

the sort," replied Horace: "are we not all here the sons of Isis (Ices)?

and tell me where will you find a group of warmer hearted souls?"

"Bravo! bravo!" shouted the party. "That fellow Eglantine will create

another _Pun_-ic war," said Sparkle. "I move that we have him crossed in

the buttery{32} for making us laugh during dinner, to the great injury

of our digestive organs, and the danger of suffocation." "What! deprive

an Englishman of his right to battel{33}" said Echo: "No; I would

sooner inflict the orthodox fine of a double bumper of _bishop_."

"Bravo!" said Horace: "then I plead guilty, and swallow the imposition."

"I'll thank you for a cut out of the back of that _lion_,"{34} tittered

a man opposite. With all the natural timidity of the hare whom he thus

particularised, I was proceeding to help him, when Echo inquired if he

should send me the breast of a swiss {35} and the facetious Eglantine,

to increase my confusion, requested to be allowed to cut me a slice off

the wing of a wool bird.{36}

31 A Paddyism is called in this university a "Thorpism" from

Mr. Thorp, formerly a hosier of some note in the city. He

was famous for making blunders and coining new words, was

very fond of making long speeches, and when upon _the toe_,

never failed to convulse his hearers with laughter.

32 Crossed in the buttery--not allowed to battel, a

punishment for missing lecture. By being frequently crossed,

a man will lose his term.

33 Battels--Bread, butter, cheese, salt, eggs, &c.

34 A lion--a hare.

35 Siciss--a pheasant.

36 Wing of a wool bird--Shoulder of lamb.

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