Well, you may urge that this method has a good deal to be said
for it. I will go some way to meet you too: but first you must
pay me the compliment of supposing me a just man. Being a just
man, and there also being presumed in me some acquaintance with
English Literature--not indeed much--not necessarily much--but
enough to distinguish good writing from bad or, at any rate, real
writing from sham, and at least to have an inkling of what these
poets and prose-writers were trying to do--why then I declare to
you that, after two years' reading with a man and talk with him
about literature, I should have a far better sense of his
industry, of his capacity, of his performance and (better) of his
promise, than any examination is likely to yield me. In short I
could sign him up for a first, second or third class, or as
_refutabilis,_ with more accuracy and confidence than I could
derive from taking him as a stranger and pondering his three or
four days' performance in a Tripos. For some of the best men
mature slowly: and some, if not most, of the best writers write
slowly because they have a conscience; and the most original
minds are just those for whom, in a _literary_ examination, it is
hardest to set a paper.
But the process (you will admit) might be invidious, might lend
itself to misunderstanding, might conceivably even lead to
re-imposition of an oath forbidding the use of a knife or other
sharp implement. And among Colleges rivalry is not altogether
unknown; and dons, if unlike other men in outward aspect,
sometimes resemble them in frailty; and in short I am afraid we
shall have to stick to the old system for a while longer. I am
sorry, Gentlemen: but you see how it works.