’VARSITY LITERATURE (_continued_)
The _Oxford Magazine_--Introduction of illustrations--Odd
advertisements--Attention paid to the Drama--Prologue to the
_Cozeners_ written by Mr Garrick--Visions, fables and moral
tales--_The Loiterer_--Diary of an Oxford man, 1789.
_The Student_ was followed after a lapse of some eighteen years by the
_Oxford Magazine_, a monthly miscellany. Devoted to no one particular
object, the editors declared its columns open to every kind of literary
matter--scientific, historical, antiquarian. Light and merely amusing
subjects were also given a place in its pages. They boasted in addition a
feature which no other periodical had ever included--illustrations. _The
Student_, it is true, had an allegorical engraving as a frontispiece to
each volume, but the _Oxford Magazine_ went one better and had
copper-plates of many of the noteworthy persons and happenings of the day,
which were “made from the most striking subjects.” “Satirical and
political cards will be given in each number, executed by the most
ingenious artists; which, it is hoped, will vie, in humour and satire,
with the late celebrated Mr Hogarth’s performances.” Other features which
the editors dealt with far more enterprisingly than any other papers of
the century were the Drama and the Law Courts. In each number there
appeared a criticism of a Drury Lane production with the cast in full, a
description of the play, the plot given in _précis_ form, and a general
summing up of the merits or demerits of the writing and acting. Each of
these ran to several columns, and in some numbers there were criticisms of
two or three productions. Besides dealing with the Law Courts in the
Domestic Intelligence columns, which acted as a sort of monthly review of
events, there were full reports of some of the important trials of the
time. The editors’ foreword was not without interest, giving, as it did,
an exact idea of their plan of campaign. On the title page it was stated
that the magazine was “calculated for general instruction and amusement.”
To this end they put forward following the programme:--
“Among other subjects of general entertainment, the authors propose to
give, in the course of this magazine, complete systems of every branch of
useful learning, enriched with all the improvements of modern writers.
They do not, however, propose to confine their labours entirely to the
elucidation of the sciences; they propose to give a large account of the
political and other transactions in different parts of the world,
especially in our own country; every remarkable event, every uncommon
debate, and every interesting turn of affairs will be recorded. A copious
and authentic history of foreign and domestick occurrences will also be
given, digested in a chronological series, containing all the material
news of the month. To render this performance agreeable to every class of
readers, care will be taken to furnish it with pieces calculated for
general entertainment. The elegant amusements of literature, the flights
of poetical fancy, and the brilliant sallies of inoffensive wit, shall
find a place in our _Magazine_. In a word, researches into antiquity;
elucidations of ancient writers; criticisms on every branch of literature;
essays in prose and verse; visions, fables, moral tales, etc., will make a
part of this performance. The correspondence of the ingenious is therefore
requested....”
On the lighter side of the periodical, one of the features was a monthly
collection from contemporary London papers of curious and remarkable
advertisements. They evidently appealed strongly to the supporters of the
paper, as, after the first volume, the editors gave them in greater
number. Some of them, indeed, were not without humour--of the broader kind
then in vogue--as will be seen from the few examples appended:--
“A maiden lady, who lately died in Ireland, left two guineas each to
four maidens, aged twenty-five, to be her pall-bearers, each of whom
was to swear she was a maid, before receiving the money; but such is
the detestation in which perjury is held in Ireland, that the old lady
was buried without a pall-bearer.--_Public Advertiser_, July 8.”
“To the Single Women.--A Single Man wants to Lodge, or Lodge and
Board, with a Single Woman whether in business or not; keeps regular
hours, will not give much trouble, but spends many evenings at home;
therefore wishes to meet with a very conversable person and is willing
to pay a _handsome_ price.--_Gazetteer_, Nov. 22.”
“On Thursday last a publican in Shoreditch sold his wife to a butcher
for a ticket in the present lottery, on condition that if the ticket
be drawn a blank he is to have his wife again as soon as the drawing
of the lottery is over.--_Public Advertiser_, Sep. 19.”
“If any real gentleman will oblige a _lady_ of character with _one
hundred pounds_, for six months, on her own bond, the gentleman may
have an advantage, which cannot be mentioned in a public newspaper; it
is desired that none may apply who cannot command the sum
immediately.--Please to direct a line to J. X. at Mr Tomb’s No. 72
Fetter Lane.”
“If Mr ----, lately a Latin master at an academy in town, who has got
a dozen and a half of shirts belonging to Mr Wh--e, does not call on
his guardian in Coleman Street immediately, and give satisfaction for
the said shirts, his name will be advertised with many other
circumstances not to his advantage.--_Daily Advertiser_, Dec. 16.”
“Mrs K---- (who was in one of the front boxes at the representation of
the ‘Trip to Scotland’) was observed to blush four times behind her
fan, occasioned, it is imagined, at the repetition of the words single
and _double beds_; as it is said to be well known that in her
elopement to Scotland only a _single bed_ was used going and
returning.”
The above are a few specimens of the flowers of wit, printed extensively
at the time in many of the papers, culled from many volumes of the _Oxford
Magazine_. At the end of Volume IX., however, there was found to be no
further desire for them, and they were quietly dropped into the limbo of
forgotten things. The columns thus relieved were filled with anecdotes and
articles of a much less lively but more literary nature.
The opening article in the first volume was a very serious essay, fully
equipped with examples and quotations from the ancients, on the Power of
the Passions. This was followed by a consideration as to whether genius is
a natural gift or an effect of education. From the great similarity of
style in the two articles, it is extremely probable that they were written
by the same pen. The next ten columns were occupied by a _verbatim_ report
of various speeches made in the Court of King’s Bench, and in certain
London clubs. The Surgeon Dentist to His Majesty then contributed a
flowing article on the disorders and deformities of the teeth and gums, in
which mothers might find copious hints as to the teething of their
infants. For the patrons of the Drama, unable to get up to London, there
was “Some Account of the Statesman Foil’d, a Musical Comedy in Two Acts,
composed by Mr Rush; and performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket.”
Even in those days it would seem that dramatic critics were of the settled
opinion that their task was never to praise, but only to carp and pick
holes, for, after giving a description of the play which read very
amusingly and well, the critic concluded by saying that although “several
of the songs are very prettily set, they are undoubtedly inferior to Mr
Rush’s former compositions; and the dialogue not remarkable for sentiment
or wit, is often extremely tiresome.”
In whatever spirit the criticisms were written, however, it cannot be said
that the university, only allowed to perform plays after a deal of
discussion and recrimination on the part of the powers that were, did not
take a great interest in the Drama. As the _Oxford Magazine_ proceeded,
more and more space was devoted to the London productions, and whole
scenes which were deemed of literary and dramatic merit were quoted from
them. Many of the songs, too, were published at length. The July number in
1774 contains, for example, “an account of the new comedy called the
_Cozeners_ as it was performed at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket.” The
cast is quoted in full and, besides telling the story of the play in some
three columns, the prologue was printed.
The critic of the _Magazine_ wrote about it as follows:--
“The piece was introduced with an excellent prologue, replete with the
true Attic salt (said to be written by Mr Garrick), and spoken by Mr
Foote, in which he compared himself to a watchman, whose business it is to
watch over the rising vices and follies of the age, and when they come to
a certain height, _knock them down_, by exposing them on the stage. As
nothing ever deserved applause more, so nothing was ever more warmly
received by the audience.” Of all the criticisms of the various
productions in whose casts are to be found the names of Mrs Siddons, Mrs
Love, Mr Foote, Mrs Yates, and many other famous actors and actresses of
the time, that of the _Cozeners_ is the most warm and praisegiving of any
printed in the _Magazine_.
Among the visions, fables, and moral tales promised by the editors, there
was a vivid and detailed description of a nun’s taking the veil. The
writer spent himself in explanation of every word and deed that occurred
during the ceremony, but whether the article, which ran through several
issues and was written by a person of the male sex, was considered a
vision, a fable, or a moral tale, it is impossible to say. Whichever it
was, however, it was well observed and highly coloured. Then there
followed a curious little contribution which was labelled a tale, but
which ought surely to have been included in the category of visions or
fables. It was entitled the “Kiss,” and came from the German. “When I was
a youth, my father sent me to Paphos to study love, which I there learnt
of a Dryad.... Fair one, you may now learn of me what a Kiss is. The
Nymphs and Dryads never met to dance, without making me one of the party;
for I was dedicated to the God of Love, and everything within me expressed
the sentiment.
“At this tender age I tasted the most pure pleasure. All Paphos, to me,
seemed to dance; for the little loves danced over my head, and the flowers
danced under my feet. Among the Dryads was one who affected always to
chuse me for her partner; she never failed to smile at me sweetly, to
squeeze my hand, and blush afterwards with all the graces of modesty. And
I squeezed also the hand of the Dryad, and blushed when I danced with her.
Even before Aurora had quitted the ocean I was already in the grove
sporting with my amiable Dryad.
“Sometimes I surprised her in the groves, where she had retired, amidst
the thickest foliage, and where she wished to be discovered; sometimes she
watched me when I hid myself, and, when she discovered me, fled, and I
pursued in hopes of overtaking her. But, all of a sudden, she would
inclose herself in the bark of an oak, and elude my pursuit. And when I
had sought her long in vain, she used to burst into loud fits of laughter;
then I entreated her to come out of her place of concealment, and
immediately I saw her issue, smiling, from the body of the tree.
“One day that I was playing with my Dryad in the wood, she tenderly patted
my cheeks and said, ‘Press your lips against mine.’ I pressed my lips
against hers; but, heavens! what pleasure did I then experience! No, the
honey that flows from Mount Hymettus is not so sweet, nor the fruit of the
vines of Surentum; even nectar, the nectar which Ganymede presents to the
immortal gods, is a thousand times less delicious.
“Then she again glued her lips to mine. In the intoxication of my
transport, I cried: ‘Oh incomparable beauty! tell me the name of this
exquisite pleasure, which glides into my very soul from thy lips, whenever
our lips meet each other?’ She answered, with a gracious smile--‘a Kiss!’”
This odd little piece of imaginative writing was printed on the same page
with a sketch of the trial of Samuel Gillam, Esq., for murder!
It is not easy to conceive that the _Oxford Magazine_ was very popular
among Bucks of the first head, for there were, indeed, none of the
references to toasts, accompanied by frequent sonnets, which occupied so
large a place in the journals earlier in the century. The tone of the
paper was more sedate throughout. There was less of the bottle and
drinking bout. The contributions covered a far wider field of interest.
The magazine is in some sort a combination of, or rather, perhaps, an
advance upon, _Jackson’s Journal_ and _The Student_. The editors united
the ideas of both these periodicals. From the one they obtained the notion
of the monthly summary of events collected from all parts; and from the
other, the idea of illustrations and fiction. The result of this
perfectly-justifiable plagiarism was certainly popular. The magazine ran
for about eight years without financial aid in the form of advertisements,
and at the end of each issue the acknowledgment of contributions, both
articles and illustrations, made a considerable list. Obviously,
therefore, the wide diversity of subjects and the not over-serious form in
which they were served up appealed to a public which hitherto had had to
be satisfied with the half-measures of those previous men who had been
bold enough to undertake the editing of ’varsity papers.
The beginning of the last decade of the century saw the _début_ of _The
Loiterer_, which admittedly took its idea from Terrae Filius. Naturally,
it did not resemble it in style--the time for a Terrae Filius was
over--but in so much as Amhurst went no farther than the university gates
for his matter, _The Loiterer_ may be said to have imitated him.
Consequently, the first volume (there were only two) was practically
confined to subjects of academical life. The second volume, however, was
not reserved wholly to university matters--articles of outside interest
being admitted from time to time. The whole work was offered to the world
by the editors as “a rough, but not entirely inaccurate Sketch of the
Character, the Manners, and the Amusements of Oxford, at the close of the
eighteenth century.” The paper was hawked at threepence a copy every
Saturday morning--for which price the editors promised, on their word of
honour as gentlemen and authors, to cram it as full of learning, sense,
and wit as they could possibly afford for the money. As a foretaste of the
threepenny wit to come, they stated in their foreword that they hoped to
receive some credit for one thing at least, “that particular orders have
been given to Mr Rann (the publisher) that _The Loiterer_ should regularly
make his appearance at Nine o’clock, in order to be served up with the
bread and butter, crusts and muffins, and enter the room in good company.
We have been the more particular in this circumstance,” they continued,
“as it is the only hour, out of the twenty-four, in which there is a
probable chance of finding some of our Brother Loiterers at home, and the
only one in which any of them read: so genteel and so useful indeed is
this love of morning study, that were it not for the necessity of eating
breakfast, and of dressing hair, it is to be doubted whether some of our
numerous fraternity would not, in a short time, forget their letters.”
This serving up with breakfast was a very wise move on the editors’ part,
for they knew from experience that it was the only hour when they stood
the least chance of being read--the rest of the day being passed by most
men in the strenuous occupation of killing time. The writer of article
number four in _The Loiterer_ was on his way to a lecture one morning when
he saw a man whom he knew leaning against the college gate with a vacant
expression on his serene countenance. Thinking that the poor fellow did
not know what to do with himself, the writer offered to take him to the
lecture which, he said, was to be remarkably entertaining. The lounger was
most polite in his thanks, and said he should have liked it above all
things, but that at the moment he was extremely busy and really had not
time. The writer, a little surprised, left him and attended the lecture,
returning two hours later to find the man leaning against the same
gate-post in nearly the same attitude.
In the face of such stagnation who shall deny the wisdom of sending the
paper in with the hot roll, thereby catching the time-killers before they
have begun their day’s task? The writer concluded his narrative of ancient
lounging and reflections on the passing of the law whereby Undergraduates
were forbidden under severe penalties to loiter away their time in sitting
on Pennyless Bench, by giving the diary of a week in the life of an
Undergraduate in 1789. It is an extremely excellent and amusing piece of
work, which shows that there were past-masters in the gentle art of
slacking who seriously challenge some of the present-day exponents.
“DIARY OF A MODERN OXFORD MAN (1789).
“_Sunday._--Waked at eight o’clock by the scout, to tell me the bell
was going for prayers--wonder those scoundrels are allowed to make
such a noise--tried to get to sleep again, but could not--sat up and
read Hoyle in bed--ten, got up and breakfasted--Charles called to ask
me to ride--agreed to stay until the President was gone to
Church--half after eleven, rode out, going down the High Street saw
Will Sagely going to St Mary’s--can’t think what people go to church
for. Twelve to two, rode round Bullington Green, met Careless and a
new Freshman of Trinity--engaged them to dine with me--two to three,
lounged at the stable, made the Freshman ride over the Bail, talked to
him about horses: see he knows nothing about the matter--went home and
dressed--three to eight, dinner and wine--remarkable pleasant
evening--sold Rackett’s stone horse for him to Careless’s friend for
fifty guineas--certainly break his neck--eight to ten, coffee-house,
and lounged in the High Street--Stranger went home to study; am afraid
he’s a bad one--engaged to hunt to-morrow and dine with
Rackett--twelve, supped and went to bed early, in order to get up
to-morrow.
“_Monday._--Racket _rowed_ me up at seven o’clock--sleepy and queer,
but forced to get up and make breakfast for him--eight to five in the
afternoon, hunting--famous run, and killed near Bicester--number of
tumbles--Freshman out on Rackett’s stone horse--got the devil of a
fall into a ditch--horse upon him--but don’t know whether he was
killed or not. Five, dressed and went to dine with Rackett--Dean had
cross’d his name, and no dinner to be got--went to the Angel and
dined--famous evening till eleven, when the Proctors came and told us
to go home to our colleges--went directly the contrary way--eleven to
one, went down into St Thomas’s and fought a raff--one, dragged home
by somebody, the Lord knows whom, and put to bed.
“_Tuesday._--Very bruised and sore, did not get up till twelve--found
an imposition on my table--mem. to give it to the hairdresser--drank
six dishes of tea--did not know what to do with myself, so wrote to my
father for money. Half after one, put on my boots to ride for an
hour--met Careless at the stable--rode together--asked me to dine with
him and meet Jack Sedley, who is just returned from France--two to
three, returned home and dressed--four to seven, dinner and wine--Jack
very pleasant--told some good stories--says the French women have
thick legs--no hunting to be got, and very little wine--won’t go there
in a hurry--seven, went to the stable, and then looked in at the
coffee-house--very few drunken men, and nothing going forwards--agreed
to play Sedley at billiards--Walker’s table engaged, and forced to
go to the Blue Posts--lost two guineas--thought I could have beat him,
but the dog has been practising in France--ten, supper at
Careless’s--bought Sedley’s mare for thirty guineas--think he knows
nothing of a horse, and believe I have done him. Drank a little punch
and went to bed at twelve.
[Illustration: OFF TO A BADGER-BAITING.]
“_Wednesday._--Hunted with the Duke of B.--very long run, rode the new
mare, found her sinking, so pulled up in time and swore I had a shoe
lost--to sell her directly--buy no more horses of Sedley--knows more
than I thought he did.--Four, returned home, and as I was dressing to
dine with Sedley, received a note from some country neighbours of my
father’s to desire me to dine at the Cross--obliged to send an excuse
to Sedley--wanted to put on my cap and gown--cap broke and gown not to
be found, forced to borrow--half after four to ten, at the Cross with
my _Lions_--very _loving_ evening indeed--ten, found it too bad, so
got up and told them it was against the rules of the university to be
out later.
“_Thursday._--Breakfasted at the Cross, and walked all the morning
about Oxford with my Lions--terrible flat work--Lions very
troublesome--asked an hundred and fifty silly questions about every
thing they saw. Wanted me to explain the Latin inscriptions on the
monuments in Christ Church Chapel!--Wanted to know how we spent our
time!--forced to give answers as well as I could. Four, forced to give
them a dinner and, what was worse, to sit with them till six, when I
told them I was engaged for the rest of the evening, and sent them
about their business--seven, dropped in at Careless’s rooms, found him
with a large party, all pretty much _cut_--thought it was a good time
to sell him Sedley’s mare, but he was not quite drunk enough--made a
bet with him that I trotted my poney from Benson to Oxford within the
hour--sure of winning, for I did it the other day in fifty minutes.
“_Friday._--Got up early and rode the poney a foot pace over to Benson
to breakfast--Old Shrub breaks fast--told him of the bet and showed
him the poney--shook his head and looked cunning when he heard of
it--good sign--after breakfast rode the race, and won easy, but could
not get any money; forced to take Careless’s draught; daresay its not
worth two pence; great fool to bet with him. Twelve till three,
lounged at the stable, and cut my horse’s tail--eat soup at
Sadler’s--walked down the High Street--met Rackett, who wanted me to
dine with him, but could not because I was engaged to Sagely--three,
dinner at Sagely’s--very bad--dined, in a cold hall, and could get
nothing to eat--wine new--a bad fire--tea-kettle put on at five
o’clock--played at Whist for sixpences, and no bets--thought I should
have gone to sleep--terrible work dining with a studious man--eleven,
went to bed out of spirits.
“_Saturday._--Ten, breakfast--attempted to read _The Loiterer_; but it
was too stupid; flung it down and took up ‘Bartlett’s Farriery’--had
not read two pages before a dun came, told him I should have some
money soon--would not be gone--offered him brandy--was sulky, and
would not have any--saw he was going to be _savage_, so kicked him
downstairs to prevent his being impertinent. Thought perhaps I might
have more of them, so went to lounge at the stables--poney got a bad
cough--and the black horse thrown out two splints--went back to my
room in an ill-humour--found a letter from my father, no money and a
great deal of advice--wants to know how my last quarter’s allowance
went--how the devil should I know?--he knows I keep no accounts--do
think fathers are the greatest _Bores_ in nature. Very low-spirited
and flat all the morning--some thought of reforming, but luckily
Careless came in to beg me to meet our party at his rooms, so altered
my mind, dined with him, and by nine in the evening was very happy.”
It is amazing to think how many men there are in this year of grace
nineteen hundred and eleven who, if they should take it into their heads
to keep a diary, would have to write down page after page of exactly the
same stuff, would express exactly the same sentiments about their father,
and whose projects of a lasting reform would be for ever scattered by just
such a careless tap upon their oak. And yet it is written: _Tempora
mutantur_!
_The Loiterer_ was not sold only to the local public at Oxford. It had a
quite large outside circulation, with agents in London, Birmingham, Bath,
and Reading, and ran for a year and three months. At the end of this
period the authors, the principal ones, revealed their identity and
retired from the editorial pinnacle into the comparative oblivion of their
Fellowships, having cause to congratulate themselves upon no small
success.