Reminiscences of Oxford

Google

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project

to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the

publisher to a library and finally to you.

Usage guidelines

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it.

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe.

About Google Book Search

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web

at |http: //books .google .com/I

I

'!^»-%

i »

♦ »

'4

t.

> » »

k '

, . t

*.

. /

J

\s

\ :J>

. >

t -

<.

-^^

>

■*. -.

S-

If

*: *

♦ -1

V

> • ^l.

■» .

t «

^

V.

*'

^ J

t '

t **

' i

■#

r .

I

/

I

REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD

S g 5

3 1 ?

Is s
I' i

R E M I i\ 1 s C

i» I.

S

I

i s.

i I * ■

oxFoin*

» 1

r\; * -J

nvv\ . \\\ 1-i

■' • *

-V . •• ,• '.' \ '• •

^-JilLL an:* . J. >V'. .\ \ 1, Ltmic

t'vnjN, PAtci^ \t''y •' .A" .k \i^ f.ii'jLii\ :

..'•>i

V . •

.1/.'

'" Tt" '

. "y

ft

s-* ^ >'

.^> . ."'■

^

.t''

'^# .V

^^m

•'•'^Iftl..?:

REMINISCENCES OP

OXFORD

.^ ■■■■nT«^m»l

^ - •

BY THE

si'

EEV. W.^TUOKWELL, M.A.

LaXt FdlwB of New College, Author of ** Tongnes in Treet" **Ch'nstian
Socialiim,'* **Winehester Fifty Yeart Ago,'* etc.

WITH 16 ILLUSTRATIONS

CASSELL AND COMPANY, Limited

LONDON, PARIS, NSW YORK <k MELBOURNE

1901

JkJLL RIGHTS RKgSRVXD

O Thought, that wrote all that I met,

And in the tresorie it set

Of my braine, now shall men see

If any vertue in thee bee.

Now kith thy engine and thy might.

Chaucer, House of Fame, ii. 18.

SOME OF THESE MEMORIES, APPEABINO FROM TIME TO TIME
UNDER THE SIGNATURE OF " NESTOR," IN THE COLUMNS
OF *' THE SPEAKER," ARE HERE REPRODUCED, BY KIND
PERMISSION OF THE LATE AND PRESENT EDITORS.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. PAGE

Oxford in thb Thirties 1

CHAPTER II.
Original Characters 11

CHAPTER III.
Prescibntific Science 31

CHAPTER IV.

Scientific Science 44

CHAPTER V.

^SCULAPIUS IN THE THIRTIES 60

CHAPTER VI.
Calliope in the Thirties 69

CHAPTER VII.
Undero&aduates in the Thirties 82

CHAPTER VIII.
More about Undergraduates 104

CHAPTER IX.
SuMMA Pafayerum Capita. Christchurch 127

CHAPTER X.
Magdalen and New College 164

CHAPTER XI.
Oriel 182

CHAPTER XII.
BalLiol 202

CHAPTER XIII.
Pattison — ^Thomson — Goulburn — Sewell 216

CHAPTER XIV.
Walk about Zion 243

Appendices 257

Index ....... .... 286

LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS.

-•♦»■

1. The Vice-Chancellor entering St. Mary's. The " Vice," Dr.

Cotton, Provost of Worcester, is followed by his Pro- Vice-
Chancellor Plumptre, Master of University, and " Ben "
Symons, "Warden of Wadham. Photog^phed by Mrs. Frieda
Girdlestone from a coloured drawing by the Rev. T. WooUam
Smith ......... Frontispiece

2. " Horse " Kett, from a portrait by Dighton . To face page 16

3. Br. Daubeny, from a photograph, 1860 ... „ 32

4. Dr. Buckland. The Ansdell portrait. Reproduced

from Mrs. Gordon's " Life of Buckland," by kind
permission of the authoress and of the publisher,
Mr. John Murray „ 40

5. Woodward, architect of the Museum. From a con-

temporary photograph „ 48

6. Huxley, from a photograph taken at the Meeting of

the British Association, 1860 „ 52

7. Tuckwell, from a water-colour drawing, 1833 . . ,, 64

8. Charles Wordsworth, from Richmond's portrait . „ 86

9. Pusey, from a pen-and-ink drawing of the Thirties,

photographed by Mrs. 'Girdlestone . . „ 136

10. Sir Frederick Ouseley, from a photograph about 1856 „ 152

11. Dr. Routh, from Pickersgill's portrait . . . „ 164

12. J. H. Newman, from a pen-and-ink drawing 1841,

photographed by Mrs. Girdlestone .... „ 182

13. Mark Pattlson, from a portrait in the possession of

Miss Stirke „ 216

14. John Gutch, engraved from a water-colour belonging

to the family „ 246

15. Mother Louse, from the line engraving after Loggan ,,

16. Mother Goose, from a coloured lithograph by Dighton „ 250

c

Eemikiscences of Oxford.

»•♦

\ CHAPTER I.

OXFOBD IN THE THIETIES.

** Kfti fJLfjy, ^y S'fiyw, w Kef>a\c, ^^ai/ocu ye haXeyd/jLEvoc rolt
(T<l>nSpa vpetrlivTaiQ.^ " To tell you the truth, Cephalus, I
rejoice in conversing with very old persons." — Plato,
Republic, A, ii:

The Thirties — ^The Approach to Oxford — Coaching Celebrities —
The Common Rooms — Then and Now — The Lost Art of
Conversation — Beaux Esprits and Belles — ^Miss Horseman.

THE evening of a prolonged life has its
compensations and its duties. It has its
compensations : the Elder, who, reverend like
Shakespeare's Nestor for his outstretched life,
has attained through old experience something
of prophetic strain, reaps keen enjoyment
from his personal famiharity with the days of
yore, known to those around him roughly
from the page of history or not at all. It
has its duties : to hand on and to depict with
the fascinating touch of first-hand recollection
the incidents and action, the characteristics
and the scenery, of that vanished past, which
in the retired actor's memory still survives,
but must scatter like the Sibyl's leaves should

B

2 BEMINISOENCES OF OXFORD.

ho pass off the stage uncominunicatiTe and
unrecording.

The nineteenth century, in the second
intention of the term, opens with the Thirties ;
its first two decades belong to and conclude
an earlier epoch. The Thirties saw the birth
of railroads and of the penny post ; they
invented lucifer matches ; they witnessed
ParKamentary and Municipal reform, the new
Poor Law, the opening of London University ;
they hailed the accession of Victoria ; ia them
Charles Dickens, Tennyson, Keble, Browning,
John Henry Newman, began variously to in-
fluence the world ; while with Scott, Crabbe,
Coleridge, Lamb, Southey, all but a few
patriarchs of the older school of literature
passed away ; men now alive who were born,
like myself, in the reign of George IV., recall
and can describe an England as different from
the England of our closing century as mon-
archic France under the Capets differed from
republican Prance to-day. Nowhere was the
breach with the past more sundering than in
Oxford. The University over which the Duke
of Wellington was installed as Chancellor in
1834 owned undissolved continuity with the
Oxford of Addison, Thomas Hearne, the
Wartons, Bishop Lowth ; the seeds of the
changes which awaited it — of Church move-
ments. Museums and Art Galleries, Local
Examinations, Science Degrees, Extension
Lectures, Women's Colleges — germinating un-

OXFORD IN THE THIRTIES. 3

suspected while the old warrior was emitting
his genial false quantities in the Theatre, were
to begin their transforming growth before the
period which he adorned had found its close.
The Oxford, then, of the Thirties, its scenery
and habits, its humours and its characters, its
gossip and its wit, shall be first amongst the
dry bones in the valley of forgetfuhiess which
I will try to clothe with flesh.

It was said in those days that the approach
to Oxford by the Henley road was the most
beautiful in the world. Soon after passing
Littlemore you came in sight of, and did not
lose again, the sweet city with its dreaming
spires, driven along a road now crowded and
obscured with dwellings, open then to corn-
fields on the right, to uninclosed meadows on
the left, with an unbroken view of the long
line of towers, rising out of foKage less high
and veiHng than after sixty more years of
growth to-day. At once, without suburban
interval, you entered the finest quarter of the
town, rolling under Magdalen Tower, and past
the Magdalen elms, then in full immutilated
luxuriance, till the exquisite curves of the High
Street opened on you, as you drew up at the
Angel, or passed on to the Mitre and the Star.
Along that road, or into Oxford by the St.
Giles's entrance, lumbered at midnight Pick-
ford's vast waggons with their six musically
belled horses ; sped stage-coaches all day long —
Tantivy, Defiance, Bival, Eegidator, Mazeppa,

4 BEMIKISGENGE8 OF OXFORD.

Dart, Magnet, Blenheim, and some thirty
more ; heaped high with ponderous luggage
and with cloaked passengers, thickly hung at
Christmas time with turkeys, with pheasants
in October ; their guards, picked buglers,
sending before them as they passed Magdalen
Bridge the now forgotten strains of " Brignall
Banks,'' "The Troubadour,'' "I'd be a Butter-
fly," "The Maid of Llangollen," or "Begone,
Dull Care " ; on the box their queer old
purple-faced, many-caped drivers — Oheeseman,
Steevens, Fowles, Charles Homes, Jack Adams,
and Black Will. This last jehu, spending three
nights of the week in Oxford, four in London,
maintained in both a home, presided over by two
several wives, with each of whom he had gone
through the marriage ceremony, and had for
many years — so distant was Oxford then from
London — kept each partner ignorant of her
sister's existence. The story came out at last ;
but the wives seem not to have objected, and
it was the business of no one else ; indeed, had
he been indicted for bigamy, no Oxford jury
could have been found to convict Black Will.
The coaches were horsed by Bichard Costar,
as great an original as any of his men ; those
who on his weekly visits to the Bensington
stables sat behind Black Will and his master
and overheard their talk, listened, with amuse-
ment or disgust, to a rampant paraphrase
of Lucretius' Fourth Book. He Kved in the
picturesque house on the Cherwell, just oppo-

OXFORD IN THE THIRTIES. 5

site Magdalen Turnpike, having two entrance
gates, one each side of the pike, so that he
could always elude payment. I remember
standing within his railings to see the pro-
cession of royal carriages which brought Queen
Adelaide to Oxford in 1835. She drove about
in semi-state, attending New College and
Magdalen Chapels, lunching at Queen's, and
holding a court at the Angel. Opposite to
her in the carriage sat always the Duke of
Wellington in his gold-tasselled cap, more
cheered and regarded than the quiet, plain-
looking, spotty-faced Queen. The Mayor of
Oxford was an old Mr. Wootten, brewer,
banker, and farmer, dressed always in blue brass-
buttoned coat, cords, top-boots, and powdered
hair. He was told that he must pay his re-
spects to the Queen ; so he drove to the Angel
in his wonderful one-horse-chaise, a vehicle in
which Mr. and Mrs. Bubb might have made
their historic jaunt to Brighton, and was intro-
duced to her Majesty by the Chamberlain,
Lord Howe. She held out her hand to be
kissed : the Mayor shook it heartily, with the
salutation : " How d'y^ do, marm ; how's the
king ? '' I saw Queen Victoria two years
afterwards proclaimed at Carfax ; and in the
general election of 1837 I witnessed from the
windows of Dr. Rowley, Master of University,
the chairing of the successful candidates,
Donald Maclean of Balliol, and WiUiam Erie
of New College, afterwards Chief Justice of

6 BEMINISGENGE8 OF OXFORD.

the Queen's Bench. Erie rode in a fine open
carriage with four white horses ; Maclean
was borne aloft, as was the custom, in a chair
on four men's shoulders. Just as he passed
University, I saw a man beneath me in the
crowd fling at him a large stone. Maclean,
a cricketer and athlete, saw it coming, caught
it, dropped it, and took off his hat to the
man, who disappeared from view in the onset
made upon him by the mob ; and, as Bunyan
says of Neighbour Pliable, I saw hiTn no more.
Maclean was a very handsome man, owing
his election, it was said, to his popidarity
among the wives of the electors : he died
insolvent and in great poverty some years
afterwards.

The University life was not without its
brilliant social side. The Heads of Houses,
with their families, formed a class apart, ex-
changing solemn dinners and consuming vasty
deeps of port ; but the abler resident Fellows,
the younger Professors, and one or two
notable outsiders, made up convivial sets,
with whose wit, fun, froKc, there is no com-
parison in modern Oxford. The Common
Booms to-day, as I am informed, are swamped
by shop ; while general society, infinitely
extended by the abolition of College ceUbacy,
is correspondingly diluted. Tutors and Pro-
fessors are choked with distinctions and re-
dundant with educational activity ; they
lecture, they write, they edit, they investigate.

OXFORD IN THE THIRTIES. 7

they athleticise, they are scientific or theo-
logical or historical or linguistic ; they fulfil
presumably some wise end or ends. But
one accompKshment of their forefathers has
perished from among them — they no longer
talk. In the Thirties, conversation was a
fine art, a claim to social distinction : choice
sprouts of the brain, epigram, anecdote, meta-
phor, now nursed carefully for the printer,
were jovously lavished on one another by the
men and women of those bibulous, pleasant
days, who equipped themselves at leisure for
the wit combats each late supper-party pro-
voked, following on the piquet or whist, which
was the serious business of the evening. Their
talk ranged wide ; their scholarship was not
technical but monumental ; thev were no
philologists, but they knew their authors —
their authors, not classical onlv, but of medi-
aeval, renaissant, modern, Europe. I remem-
ber how Christopher Erie, eccentric Fellow
of New College, warmed with more than one
glass of ruby Carbonel, would pour out jEschy-
lus, Horace, Dante, by the yard. Staid Ham-
mond of Merton, son to Canniag's secretary
and biographer, knew his Pope by heart,
quoting him effectively and to the point.
Edward Greswell of Corpus, whose quaint
figure strode the streets always with stick in
one hand and umbrella in the other, was a
walking library of Greek and Latin inscriptions.
A select few ladies, frank spinsters and jovial

8 BEMINI8CENCES OF OXFORD.

matrons, added to the charm of these con-
vjyialities. Attired in short silk dresses — for
Queen Addy, as Lady Granville calls her, was
proud of her foot and ankle — sandal-shoes,
lace tippets, hair dressed in crisp or flowing
curls, they took their part in whist or at
quadrille, this last a game I fear forgotten
now, bearing their full share in the Attic
supper-table till their sedan-chairs came to
carry them away. There was gay old Mrs.
Neve, belle of Oxford in her prime, living
a widow now in Beam Hall, opposite Merton,
with seven card-tables laid out sometimes in
her not spacious drawing-room. Mrs. Foulkes,
whose husband, the Principal of Jesus, walked
the High Street always upon St. David's
day with a large leek fastened in the tassel
of his cap, piqued herself on the style and
quality of her dress. She had a rival in
Mrs. Pearse, a handsome widow living in
St. Giles' ; by the aid of Miss Boxall, the
fashionable milliner, they vied with one another
like Brunetta and Phyllis in the " Spectator.''
Famous, not for dress, but for audacity and
wit, was Bachel Burton, "Jack" Burton as
she was called, daughter to a Canon of Ghrist-
church, whose flirtations with old Blucher,
on the visit of the allied sovereigns, had
amused a former generation, and who still
survived to recall and propagate anecdotes
not always fit for ears polite. Amongst her
eccentricities she once won the Newdigate :

OXFORD IN THE THIRTIES, 9

the judges, agreed upon the poem which
deserved the prize, broke the motto'd envelope
to find within the card of Miss Rachel Burton.
Her sister " Tom," married to Marshall Hacker,
vicar of Iffley, I knew well ; and I remember
too the illustrious Jack, lodging in the corner
house of what was then called Coach and
Horse Lane, sunning herself on summer days
without her wig and in wild dishabille on a
small balcony overlooking the garden of a
house in which I often visited.

Another of these vestals was Miss, or, as she
liked to be called, Mrs. Horseman, dressy and
made up, and posthumously juvenile, but retain-
ing something of the beauty which had won the
heart of Lord Holland's eldest son years before,
when at Oxford with his tutor Shuttleworth,
until her Ladyship took the alarm, swept
down, and carried him off ; and had attracted
admiring notice from the Prince Regent in
the Theatre, as she sat in the Ladies' Gallery
with her lovely sister, Mrs. Nicholas. They
came from Bath ; I have always imagined
their mother to be the " Mrs. Horseman, a
very old, very little, very civil, very ancient-
familied, good, quaint old lady,'' with whom
Fanny Bumey spent an evening in 1791.^
Miss Horseman herself was a witty, well-bred,
accompKshed woman. Her • memory was an
inexhaustible treasure-house of all the apt
sayings, comic incidents, memorable personages

^ Madame D'Arblay^s " Diary," vol. v., p. 257.

10 REMINISCENCES 0:F OXFORD.

«

of the past tliirty years, dispensed with gossip
and green tea to her guests round the Kttle
drawing-room of her house in Skimmery Hall
Lane, hung with valuable Claude engravings
in their old black frames. She outlived her
bright faculties, became childish, and wandered
in her talk, but to the last shone forth in
all the glaring impotence of dress, ever greet-
ing me with cordial welcome, and pathetically
iterative anecdote. She lies just outside St.
Mary's Church ; I see her grave through
the railings as I pass along the street. That
is the final record of all those charming ante-
diluvians ; " arl gone to churchyard," says
Betty Muxworthy in "Loma Doone." La
farce est jouee^ tire le rideau ; — but it is
something to recall and fix the Manes
Acheronte remissos.

11

CHAPTER n.

OEIGINAL CHAEACTEES.

I am known to be a humorous patrician ; hasty and
tinder-Uke upon too trivial motion ; what I think I utter,
and spend my maUce in my breath. — Shakespeare.

Thomas Dunbar — ^Brasenose Ale — A famous Chess Club — Dunbar's
Impromptus ~" Horse " Kett of Trinity — Oriel Oddities —
Copleston — Blanco White — Whately — Dr. Bull of Christchurch
— The Various Species of Dons — ^The Senior Fellow — Some
Venerable Waifs — Tom Davis — Dr. EUerton of Magdalen —
Edward Quicke of New College — Dr. Frowd of Corpus — His
Vagaries as Preacher and Politician — A Brother Bedlamite —
" Mo " Griffith of Merton — His Quips and Cranks.

READEES who, like supercilious Mr. Peter
Magnus, are not fond of anything original,
had better skip this chapter ; if, with young
Marlow in " She Stoops to Conquer,*' they
can say more good-naturedly, " He's a character,
and ril humour him," let them persevere ;
for I shall recall not a few among the Oxford
Characters of my early recollections. They
were common enough in those days. Nature,
after constructing an oddity, was wont to
break the mould ; and her more roguish
experiments stood exceptional, numerous,
distinct, and sharply defined. Nowadays,
at Oxford, as elsewhere, men seem to me
to be turned out by machinery ; they think
the same thoughts, wear the same dress.

12 BEMINISGENGE8 OF OXFORD.

talk the same shop, in Parliament, or Bar,
or Mess, or Common Room. Even in the
Forties characters were becoming rare ; as
the Senior Fellows of Corpus and of Merton,
Frowd and Mo Griffith — two oddities of whom
I shall have something to say later on — were
one day walking together round Christchurch
Meadows, little Frowd was overheard lamenting
that the strange Originals of their younger
days seemed to have vanished from the skirts
of Oxford knowledge*; but was consoled by
Griffith — " Does it not occur to you. Dr.
Frowd, that you and I are the * characters '
of to-day?'^

First in my list shall come Thomas Dunbar,
of Brasenose, keeper of the Ashmolean, poet,
antiquary, conversationaUst. Dibdin, in his
" Bibliographical Decameron,'' congratulates
Oxford on Dunbar's appointment to the
neglected museum, which he cleansed, smart-
ened, rearranged, rescuing from dust and
moths the splendid twelfth-century " Besti-
arium" which Ashmole had placed in the
collection. His poems, vers de VUniversite,
were handed about in manuscript, and are
mostly lost. I possess an amusing squib on
" Brasenose Ale," commemorating the else
forgotten Brasenose dons and city wine mer-
chants of the day ; ^ with an ode composed by
him as Poet Laureate to a famous chess club,
whose minutes will, I hope, pass some day

^ Appendix A.

ORIGINAL GHAEACTERS, 13

from my bookshelves to the Bodleian.^ It
was recited at an anniversary dinner, where
sate as invited guests Mr. Markland, of Bath ;
Sir Christopher Pegge; porter-loving Dale of
B.N.O. satirised in "Brasenose Ale''; with Henry
Matthews, author of the " Diary of an Invalid/'^
" It was a sumptuous dinner," the minutes fondly
record ; it began at five o'clock, and must
have continued till after nine ; for " Old Tom
is tolling " is written on the opposite page.
The King's Arms, where it was held, still
stands ; but the deUghtful symposiasts, with
their powdered hair and shirt-friUs, their
hessians or silk stockings, their sirloins and
eighteenth-century port, are gone to what
Dunbar's poem calls the Mansion of Hades.
His, too, was the lampoon on the two cor-
pulent brothers, whose names I will not draw
from their dread abode. Eespectively a
physician and a divine, they were lazy and
incapable in either function. This is Dunbar's
friendly estimate of the pair : —

Here D.D. toddles, M.D. rolls,
Were ever such a brace of noddies 1

D.D. has the cure of souls,
M.D. has the care of bodies.

Between them both what treatment rare
Our bodies and our souls endure ;

One has the cure without the care,
And one the care without the cuie.

^ Appendix B. ^ Appendix C.

14. BEMINISGENGES OF OXFORD.

But Ms most brilliant reputation was colloqxiial ;
sparkling with apt quotations and with pointed
weU-placed anecdotes, he was especially happy
m his impromptus. Leaving England for
the East, the Club accredit him with a Latin
letter, penned by Gilbert, afterwards Bishop
of Chichester, to the Prince of the Faithful,
as Grand Master of Oriental chess-craft. He
returns thanks in " a warm and impressive
Latin oration '' ; and suddenly perceiving
that the seal appended to the commendatory
epistle is enclosed in an oyster shell, he exclaims,
" Et in Grsecia Ostracismum Aristidi osten-
dam ! " One of the Heads of Houses had four
daughters — Mary, a don ; Lucy, a blue-stocking ;
Susan, a simpleton ; Fanny, a sweet unaffected
girl. Asked by Lucy the meaning of the
word alliteration, with scarcely a pause he
replied : —

Minerva-like majestic Mary moves ;
Law, Latin, logic, learned Lucy loves ;
Serenely sUent, Susan's Bnules surprise ;
From fops, from flatterers, fairest Fanny flies.

The "toasf of the day was a beautiful Miss
Charlotte Ness. She asked Dunbar the force
of the words abstract and concrete, which
she had heard in a University sermon. A
few moments' silence produced the following : —

Say, what is Abstract 1 what Concrete 1

Their difference define. —
They both in one fair form unite,

And that fair form is thine. —

ORIGINAL CHABAGTEBS. 15

How so 1 this riddle pray undo. —

Tis no hard-laboured guess,
For when I lovely Charlotte view,

I then view lovely Ness,

He was a man of good family, hovering be-
tween London, Bath, and Oxford. A room
in our house at Oxford was within my memory
known as Mr. Dunbar's room. His walking-
stick was handed down to me, a serpent-
twined caduceus, with the names of the Nine
Muses on the gold handle. Styx novies
interfusa he called it.

Contemporary with Dunbar was " Horse '•
Kett, of Trinity. In his portrait by Dighton,
here reproduced, the long face, dominated
by the straight bony nose, explains and justi-
fies the epithet. He was a man of considerable
ability ; Bampton lecturer, novelist, and just
missed the Poetry Professorship. His critical
powers were acknowledged by De Quincey,
who referred to him the once burning, now
forgotten, question of the plagiarism in White's
Bampton Lectures. But his repute was due
to his strange equine face, inspiring from
the seniors jokes in every learned language,
and practical impertinences from the less
erudite youngsters. When his back was
turned in lecture, the men filled his snuff-box
with oats. Dr. Kidd used to relate how,
attending him in his rooms for some ailment,
he heard a strange rattle in the letter-box
of the outer door : " Only a note (an oat),"

16 BEMimSGENGES OF OXFORD.

said the good-natured victim. Walter Savage
Landor tried on him his prentice hand : —

"The Centaur is not fabulous," says Young.i
Had Young known Kett,
He'd say, " Behold one, put together wrong ;

The head is horseish, but, what yet
Was never seen in man or beast.
The rest is human — or, at least,
Is Kett."

Even stately Gopleston, replying to a work
by Kett called " Logic Made Easy," did not
disdain to head the pamphlet : —

Aliquis latet error; Equo ne credite, Teucri.

Dunbar, too, had ready his perhaps pre-
raeditated impromptu. Someone asked him
who were the Proctors in a certain yfear :
they were Darnel, of Corpus, and Kett. Dun-
bar answered : —

Infelix Lolium et steriles dominantur Avence,

The mention of Gopleston carries one to Oriel,
peopled at that time with " characters "" of a
very exalted type. Gopleston, substantial,
majestic, " richly coloured," as T. Mozley calls
him, was Provost; a man not without as-
perities of mind and manner — we recall his
rudeness to J. H. Newman, dining in Hall
as a newly-elected Fellow : — but, as a man

^A book notable in its day. — Young (E.) "The Centaur
not Fabulous, in Six Letters to a Friend on The Life in Vogue,"
8vo, copperplate front, symbolic of the public s careless gaiety ^
calf, 3s. 6d, 1755.

ORIGINAL GHAEAGTEBS. 17

of the world, in London society, regular con-
tributor to the Quarterly Review, author of
widely-read and accepted pamphlets on cur-
rency and finance, he held absolute ascendancy
amongst the higher class of University men,
and filled his College with Fellows strangely
ahen to the port and prejudice, the club-
bable whist-playing sonmolence, which Gibbon
first, then Sydney Smith, found characteristic
of Oxford society. I saw him only once, as
Bishop of liandaff ; but his mien and presence
were carefully preserved and copied by old
Joseph Parker, the bookseller, who resembled
him curiously in face and voice, and, in a
suit of formal black, with frill at the breast
and massive gold seals pendent from the fob,
imitated his walk and manner. He carried
on at Oriel the innovation of his predecessor,
Provo^ Eveleigh, giving his Fellowships not
so much to technical attainraent as to evi-
dence of intellectual capacity : to Whately and
Hinds, the white and black bears, as thev
were named ; to Hampden, Davison, and
Arnold ; men who formed in Oxford what
was known as the Noetic school, maintaining
around them a continuous dialectical and
mental ferment — Oriel Common Roora stunk
of logic, was the complaint of easy-going
guests — and provoking by their political
and ecclesiastical Hberalism the great revolt
of the Newmania. Amongst them, too, was
Blanco White — Hyperion they called him, as
c

18 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

C5opleston was Saturn — adopted not only into
Oriel, but into English society and the English
Church. He is believed to have inspired
Hampden's Bampton Lectures, challenged
afterwards as heretical : an old pupil of his
remembers how day after day for months
before they were delivered Hampden was
closeted with him daily. Whately was a
prominent Oxford figure, with blatant voice,
great stride, rough dress. I remember my
mother's terror when he came to call. She
had met him in the house of newly-married
Mrs. Baden-Powell, who had filled her drawing-
room with the spider-legged chairs just then
coming into fashion. On one of these sat
Whately, swinging, plunging, and shifting on
his seat while he talked. An ominous crack
was heard ; a leg of the chair had given way ;
he tossed it on to the sofa without comment,
and impounded another chair. The history
of the Noetic school has not been written ;
its interest was obscured by the reactionary
movement on which so many pens have
worked.

I cross from Oriel to Ghristchurch, and
encounter sailing out of Peckwater a very
notable Canon of " the House," Dr. Bull
Tall, portly, handsome, beautifully-dressed and
groomed — he was known as Jemmy Jessamy
in his youth — I hail him as type of the
ornamental Don. For of Dons there were
four kinds. There was the cosmopolitan Don ;

ORIGINAL GHAEAGTEB8. 19

with a home in Oxford, but conversant with
select humanity elsewhere ; Uke Addison and
Prior in their younger days, Tom Warton in
the Johnsonian era, Phihp Duncan in my
recollection ; at home in coffee house, club,
theatre ; sometimes in Parliament, like Charles
Xeate ; sometimes at Court, like William
Bathurst of All Souls, Clerk to the Privy
Council. There was the learned Don, amassing
a Ubrary, editing Latin authors and Greek plays,
till his useful career was extinguished imder
an ill-placed, ill-fitting mitre. There was the
nieer Don, as Sir Thomas Overbury calls him ;
Head of a House commonlv as the resultant
of a squabble amongst the electing Fellows,
with a late-married wife as uncouth and un-
educated as himself, forming with a few aflBiuent
sodales an exclusive, pompous, ignorant, lazy
set, " respecting no man in the University,
and respected by no man out of it/^ Lastly,
the ornamental Don ; representative proxenus
to distinguished strangers, chosen as Proctor
or Vice-ChanceUor against a probable In-
stallation or Boyal visit. Bull played this part
to perfection, as did Dr. Wellesley in the next
generation. He had gained his double first
and kindred decorations as a young man, but
promotion early and plural lighted on his head,
promotion not to posts which tax and generate
effort, but to cushioned ease of canonries ;
and he dropped into the manager of Chapter
legislations and surveyor of College properties ;

20 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD,

a butterfly of the most gorgeous kind, a
Marpho, such as dear old Westwood used to
Unveil before visitors to his museum, yet still
only a butterfly. He was a man of pluck
and determination ; his overthrow of re-
doubtable Bishop Philpotts was immortab'sed
by a deUghtful cartoon in an early Punch —
a bishop tossed by a bull ; he had the manner
of a royal personage ; you must follow his
lead and accept his dicta ; but he was a
generous, kindly Dives, of a day when Lazarus
had not come to the front with unemployed
and democratic impeachments, to drop flies
into the fragrant ointment, to insinuate scru-
ples as to the purple and fine b'nen, to
predict the evolutionary downfall of those who
toil not neither spin. He would be impossible
at the present day, and perhaps it is just as
well. He was Canon of Christchurch, Canon
of Exeter, Prebendary of York, and held the
good College living of Staverton, all at once : —

On the box with Will Whip, ere the days of the Rail,

To London I travelled; and inside the mail

Was a Canon of Exeter ; on the same perch

Was a Canon of Oxford's . Episcopal Church.

Next came one who held — ^I will own the thing small —

In the Minster of York a prebendary stall.

And there sate a Parson, all pursy and fair,

With a Vicarage fat and four hundred a year.

Now, good reader, perhaps you will deem the coach full 1

No— there was but one traveller — Doctor John Bull !

An oddity par excellence was the ** Senior
Fellow " : an oddity then, a palsBOzoic memory

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. 21

now. He vanished with the Forties ; Railways,
New Museums, University Commissions, were
too much for him. He was no mere senior,
primus inter pares only in respect of age ;
he was exceptional, solitary, immemorial ; in
the College but not of it ; left stranded by a
generation which had passed ; a great guK in
habits, years, associations, lay between the
existing Common Room and himself. He
mostly lived alone ; the other men treated
him deferentially and called him Mister ; he
met them in Hall on Gaudy days and was
sometimes seen in Chapel ; but no one ever
dropped in upon him, smoked with him,
walked with him ; he was thought to have
a history ; a suspicion of disappointment hung
over him ; he lived his own eccentric, friendless
life, a victim to superannuation and celibacy.
Not a few of these venerable waifs come
back to me from early years. There was old
Tom Davis, Senior Fellow of Jesus, visible every
day from 3 to 4 p.m., when he walked alone
in all weathers twice round Christchurch
meadow. He was the finest judge of wine
in Oxford — " the nose of haut-goitt and the tip
of taste" — could, it was believed, tell a vint-
age accurately by the smell. Joyous was the
Common Room, steward who could call in his
judgment to aid in the purchase of pipe or
butt. He refused all the most valuable College
livings in turn, because the underground
cellars of their parsonages were inadequate ;

22 RE2nXI8GENGES OF OXFORD.

lived and died in liis rooms, consuming medi-
tatively, like Mr. Tnlkinghorn, a daily cob-
webbed bottle of his own priceless port.

There was old Dr. EUerton, Senior Fellow of
Magdalen, who used to totter out of Chapel
with the President on a Sunday. I have
seen a laughable sketch of the pair, as Shuttle-
worth, Warden of New College, a dexterous
caricaturist, spied them from his window
shuffling along New College Lane to a con-
vocation. He was a mild Hebrew scholar,
and is embalmed as co-founder with Dr. Pusev
of the small annual prize known as the Pusey
and EUerton Scholarship. His rooms were
at the corner of the quadrangle, looking on
to the deer park and the great plane tree.
He was a picturesquely ugly man ; the gar-
goyle above his window was a portrait, hardly
an exaggeration, of his grotesque old face.
Years before, when the building was restored
and he was College tutor, the undergraduates
had bribed the sculptor to fashion there in
stone the visage of their old Damoetas ; he
detected the resemblance, and insisted angrily
on alteration. Altered the fa^e was : cheeks
and temples hollowed, jaw-lines deepened,
simiUtude for the time effaced. But gradually
the iinkind invisible chisel of old age worked
upon his own octogenarian countenance ; his
own cheek was hollowed, his own jaw con-
tracted, till the quaint projecting mask became
again a likeness even more graphic than before.

ORIGINAL GHARACTEBS. 23

There was Edward Quicke, of New College,
whose one lingering senile passion was for
tandem-driving ; the famous " Arter-Xerxes "'
story had its source in his groom and him.
Twice a day he might be seen, sitting melan-
choly behind his handsome pair along the
roads round Oxford. He died, I may say,
in harness ; for one dark night in the vacation
he was run down near Woodstock by two
tipsy scouts, and succumbed in a few days
to his injuries. With him was old Eastwick,
who after spending some years, poor fellow,
in a lunatic asylum, reappeared to end his
days in College. He had once, we supposed,
been young ; had lived and loved and gathered
rosebuds ; had certainly begun life as a brief-
less barrister At a Gaudy dinner once sar-
donic Shuttleworth congratulated him " on
an accession to his income ."" "I beg your

pardon, Mr. Warden, I was not aware "

" Oh ! I beg yours, but I was told that you
had left off going circuit."' He came back
from durance vile a quiet, watery-eyed, lean
old man, dining in Hall, where he was mostly
silent, yet broke out curiously sometimes with
reminiscences, forebodings, protests ; spent the
livelong day in eradicating dandehons from
the large grass-plat in the front quadrangle,
his coat-tails faUing over his shoulders as he
stooped, and leaving him, Kke the poor Indian
of the parody, " bare behind.*' Once more
there was old Maude, of Queen's, one of the

24 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

detenus as they were called — the ten thousand
English tourists seized brutally by Napoleon
when war was suddenly declared in 1803, and
kept in prison till his abdication. Maude came
back to Oxford, eleven years of his life wiped
out and his contemporaries passed away, to
live alone in his old-fashioned, scantily fur-
nished rooms, where I remember his giving
me breakfast in my schooldays and quoting to
me Dr. Johnson's "Vanity of Human Wishes."
These were curios of no great native
force — spectacular oddities merely; two more
remain, whose amusing outbreaks of inde-
corum and forcible gifts of speech deserve a
longer notice : Dr. Frowd, of Corpus, and " Mo ''
Griffith, of Merton. Frowd was a very httle
man, an irrepressible, unwearied chatterbox,
with a droll interrogative face, a bald shining
head, and a fleshy under-Kp, which he could
push up nearly to his nose. He had been
chaplain to Lord Exmouth, and was present
at the bombardment of Algiers. As the action
thickened he was seized with a comical reUgious
frenzy, dashing round the decks, and diffusing
spiritual exhortation amongst the half-stripped,
busy sailors, till the first lieutenant ordered
a hencoop to be clapped over him, whence
his Kttle head emerging continued its devout
cackle, quite regardless of the balls which
flew past him and killed eight hundred sailors
in our small victorious fleet. He was a
preacher of miich force and humour, if only

ORIGINAL GHARAGTERS. 26

one could risum teiiere. I heard him once
in St. dementis Ghiirch deliver a sermon on
Jonah, which roused up his congregation
quite as effectually as the shipmaster wakened
the sleepy prophet. "There's a man in this
church who never says his prayers : lies down
at night, rises in the morning, without a word
of gratitude or adoration for the God who
made him and has preserved him. Now, I
have a message to that man — what meanest
thou, O thou sleeper ? arise," &c., &c. " Hell,''
he began another time, with a knowing wag
of liis droll head, " Hell is a place which men
believe to be reserved for those who are a
great deal worse than themselves." Presently
he became husky, drew out a lozenge and
sat down in the pidpit to masticate it leisurely,
while we awaited the consumption of lis
lubricant. In reading chapters from the Old
Testament, he used to pause at a marginal
variation, read it to himself half audibly, and,
like Dr. BUmber, smile on it auspiciously or
knit his brow and shake his head in dis-
approval. I remember too his preaching in
All Saints Church, of which Thompson, after-
wards rector of Lincoln, was incumbent. He
climbed up the steep three-decker steps into
the high-walled pulpit, and disappeared, till,
his hands clinging to the desk and his comical
face peering over it, he called down into the
reading desk below, " Thompson, send up a
hassock." A College living was offered to him :

26 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

and a funeral being due, lie went down to
bury the dead and survey the place. Arrived
at the nearest railway station, he found no
conveyance except a carriage which had just
deposited a wedding party. Into this he
jumped-coachman, whip, horses, being all
decked with favours — met the mournful proces-
sion, and finding the churchyard path muddy,
climbed on the white-ribboned driver's back,
and was borne to the church in front of the
coflin amid the cheers and laughter of the
amateur onlookers, who in the country as-
semble always at these dismal functions. He
accepted the Kving after this escapade, but
the CoUege refused to present him, and were
sustained on his appeal to the Visitor. To
another prank they were unjustifiably lenient.
A contested election of a member for the
TJniversity was proceeding, the excitement
high and the voting close. Frowd paired
with four men against one of the candidates,
then went up and voted. A London club
would have expelled a man for such a feat ;
but Frowd seems to have been looked upon
as a chartered Hbertine, and the offence was
passed over on receipt of an unintelligibly
remorseful letter — "You have from me a
pcsnitet in duodecimo and a habes confitentem
reum in quarto " — with a request, however,
that he would absent himself from the College
for a twelvemonth. His rooms were on the
second floor looking out into the meadow ;

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. 27

in the room below him Kved Holme, a more
advanced Bedlamite eren than himself, a
pleasant fellow as I remember him in his
interliinar periods, but who died, I beKeve,
in an asylum. Frowd used to exercise on
wet days by placing chairs at intervals round
his room and jumping over them. Holme,
a practical being, one day fired a pistol at
his ceiling while these gynmastics were pro-
ceeding, and the bullet whizzed past Frowd,
who, less unconcerned than at Algiers, ran
downstairs, put his head into the room, and
cried, " Would you, bloody-minded man, would
you ? ^* The feeling in the Common Boom was
said to be regret that the bullet had not been
billeted ; Frowd would have ceased to aggra-
vate. Holme would have been incarcerated
or hanged, the College rid of both.

Moses Griffith was son to a physician of
the same name. In the hospital where the
father practised a particular kind of poultice
was long known as a " mogriflf ,*' But the son,
objecting to the nickname " Mo,'* obtained the
royal Kcence to bear the name of Edwards, grad-
ually dropping the Moses and the final letter s,
and appearing in the later University Calendar
as Edward Griffith ; but though gods might
call him Edward, mortals called him "Mo.''
He was much more than an oddity — a real
wit, racy in ironical talk, prompt in bitter
or diverting repartee. In younger days he
was Whitehall Preacher, an appointment then

28 BEMINI8GENGES OF OXFORD.

made for b'fe ; but became so tedious as time
passed that the Bishop of London, Howley,
called on him to suggest his retirement. He
was overpowered by Mo's formal politeness,
and came away discomfited ; and Griffith
remained until Blomfield, succeeding to the
bishopric, dismissed all the preachers, and
replaced the best of them under fresh rules,
mainly in order to get rid of Mo. Going
once to preach at Wolvercot, he took with
him. William Karslake, a young Fellow of the
College, who had found favour in his eyes.
" How did you Uke my sermon, sir ? " was the
first question, as they walked through the
fields homewards. " A very fine sermon, Mr.
Griffith ; perhaps a little above the audience/'
" Audience, my friend. I suppose these dear
young turnip -tops would understand my
sermon as readily as those rustics. Sir, that
was a Whitehall sermon." He sometimes
read the service at Holywell, a Merton living.
The lesson happened to be the third chapter
of St. Luke. Griffith read on till he came
to the formidable pedigree at the end. " Which
was the son of Heh," he began ; then, glancing
at the genealogical Banquo-line which follows —
" the rest concerns neither you nor me, so
here endeth the Second Lesson." He used
to attend the St. Mary's afternoon service.
A prolonged University sermon had retarded
the parish service, and it was near five o'clock
when Copeland, who sometimes preached for

OBIQINAL CHAEAGTEB8. 29

Newman, approached the ptilpit. He was stopped
in the aisle by Griffith, who said in one of his
stentorian asides, " I am grieved to qiut you,
Mr. Copeland, but Merton College dines at five."
He spent the Oxford term-times usually at
Bath — " City of Balls and Beggars " he was wont
to superscribe his letters thence — hating the
sight of the Phihstines, as he called the under-
graduates. "Fetch a screen. Manciple," he said
one day, when dining alone in Hall he beheld
a belated solitary scholar who had not gone
down ; but he resided in the vacations, and
always attended College meetings. The present
Warden, I have heard, relates that when he was
candidate for a Fellowship and Griffith came
up to vote, his colleagues tried to impress
upon him the duty of awarding the Fellowship
according to the examiner's verdict. " Sir,"
said Mo, " I came here to vote for mv old
friend's son, and vote for him I shall, what-
ever the examiners may say." He would
sometimes bring a guest to the College
dinner, watching anxiously over his prowess
with the knife and fork. Abstemiousness he
could not abide : Dr. Wootten, an Oxford
physician, dined with him one day, and did
scant justice to the dishes : " My maxim, Mr.
Griffith, is to eat and leave off hungry." Mo
threw up his hands as he was wont : " Eat
and leave off hungry ! Why not wash and
leave off dirty ? " So often as a haunch of
venison was announced for the high table.

30 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

he woxdd invite mv father, a renowned diner-
out in former days, but made domestic by
tarda ^podagra, I remember his exit once,
fuming at my father's refusal. "My friend,"
laying hand upon his sleeve, "you will eat
mutton till the wool grows out of your coat."
Once, at a large party in our house, good-
natured, loquacious Mrs. Eouth, the President
of Magdalen's wife, addressed him. "Mr.
GriflSlth, do you ever take carriage exercise ;
drive in a fly, I mean ? " " Madam, I thank
God, I am not quite such a blackguard." He
used to ask me to his rooms w^hen I was a
boy, and regale me with strawberries. He
would make me recite poetry to him — the
"Elegy," "Sweet Auburn," "The Traveller,"
which I knew by heart — rewarding me with
presents of books ; on one occasion with a
fine set of Pope's " Homer " in eleven volumes,
bearing the bookplate of Edward Griffith.
Much later, and shortly before his death, I
met him. at a Merton dinner. Edmund
Hobhouse, afterwards a Xew Zealand bishop,
had brought Sir Benjamin Brodie. "Who is
that gentleman ? " asked Griffith in his son-
orous whisper. He was told. A pause,
during which Mo glared at the great surgeon ;
then the word " Butcher ! " was heard to hiss
along the table. He comes before me in an
unbrushed beaver hat, a black coat and waist-
coat, nankeen trousers, and low shoes, with a vast
interval of white stocking, liequiescat in Pace !

31

CHAFIEE ni.

PBESCIENTIFIC SCIENCE.

We will be wise in time : what though our work
Be fashioned in despite of their ill-service,
Be crippled every way ] 'Twere Uttle praise
Did full resources wait on our good will
At every turn. Let all be as it is.

Browning.

Dr. Daubeny — His Physic Garden — His Monkeys and their
Emancipation — ^A Pioneer of Science — Buckland and his
Friends — His Wife— His Lectures — A Scotch Sceptic and how
he was Silenced — The Buckland Minagt — The Buckland
Collection in the Oxford Museum — Thomas, the Holywell
Glazier — Chapman, the Discoverer of CetiosawnM.

PEESCIENTIFIC unquestionably: in the
Thirties the Oxford mind was inscient ; its
attitude first contemptuous, then hostile, towards
the science that, invita Minerva, was hatching
in its midst ; a strange, new, many-headed,
assertive thing, claiming absurdly to take
rank with the monopoKst Humanities of Don-
land, not altogether without concealed intent
to challenge and molest the ancient, solitary
reign of its theology. Yet science none the
less thei'e was, sustained bv at least two famous
names, making possible the PhiUips, Brodie,
Rolleston of a later date. Its first repre-
sentative of note was Daubeny ; Doctor, not
Professor, Daubenv ; Professor as a titular

32 BEUINI8GEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

prefix came in much later ; cam.e, I am told,
through the Scottish Universities, which had
borrowed it from Germany. First Class and
Fellow of Magdalen, he early forsook practice
as a physician to devote himself to pure science,
became widely known by his works on the
" Atomic Theory " and on " Volcanic Action '' ;
and when Dr. Williams died in 1834, succeeded
him as professor of chemistry, botany, rural
economy, taking up his abode in the house
built newly at the entrance to Magdalen
bridge. He lectured, experimented, wrote ;
his books on Roman husbandry, and on the
trees and shrubs of the ancients, are still
invaluable to the Virgilian scholar ; he carried
out elaborately and with improved devices
Pouchet's experiments on spontaneous gen-
eration, was the first to welcome and extend
in England Schonbein's discovery of ozone.
His chemistry lectures were a failure ; he
lacked physical force, sprightliness of manner,
oral readiness, and his demonstrations in-
variably went wrong. He lavished care and
money on his " Physic Garden,'^ introducing
De Oandolle's system side by side with the old
Linnsean beds, building new and spacious
houses, in which flourished the Victoria lily, to
be seen elsewhere for a long time only at Kew
and Ghatsworth, and where the aloe produced
its one bloom of the century, its great raceme
rising in seven days to the height of four and
twenty feet. He cared httle for outdoor plants,

DR. DAUBENY.

PBE8CIENTIFIG SCIENCE. 33

and could not condescend to rudimentary
teaching ; botany, prospering at Cambridge
under Henslow, took no hold of Oxford.
Happily, the garden was for nearly eighty
vears in the care of the two Baxters, father
and son, both of them amongst the best ex-
ponents in England of our native botany.
Their assiduity and knowledge resulted in a
collection of hardy growth, exceptional in
healthiness and size, arranged with Uttle rigidity
of system, but, with deference to each plant's
idiosyncrasies, in spots which the experimental
tenderness of near a century showed to be
appropriate. They laboured for a posterity
which hastened to undo their work. New
brooms swept the unique old garden clean ;
young men arose who knew not Joseph ;
young men in a hurry to produce a little
Kew upon the incongruous Oherwell banks,

Parvam Trojam, simulataque magnis
Pergama, et arentem Xanthi cognomine riyum.

So the time-honoured array was broken up,
Baxter fils cashiered, the Linnaean borders
razed, the monumental plants uprooted. I
avoid the garden now, injecting only as I pass
its beautiful gate the maUson invoked by
Walter Scott on the leveller of Dunedin's cross.
One of Daubeny's fads was a collection of
monkeys, which he kept in a cage let into
the Danby gateway. One night the doors
were forced and the monkeys liberated, to be

D

34 REMINISCENCES OF OXFOBR

captured next day wandering dismal on the
Iffley road, or perched, crepitantes dentibus,
on the raihngs in Bose Lane, The ctdprit
was not known at the time ; it was mad
Harry Wilkins, of Merton, who had sculled
up the river after dark and so gained a<5cess
to the locked-up gardens. Daubeny wm pained
by the foolish insult, and the menagerie was
dispersed. He was genial and chatty in society ;
in College Hall, or at eveniag parties, which
he much frequented, we met the Uttle,
droll, spectacled, old-fashioned figure, in gilt-
buttoned blue tail coat, velvet waistcoat, satin
scarf, kid gloves too long in the fingers, a foot
of bright bandanna handkerchief invariably
hanging out behind. Or we encountered him
on Sunday afternoons, in doctor's hood and
surpUce, tripping up the steps which led to
the street, shuffling into Chapel, always late,
cross old Mundy, the College porter, dispos-
sessing some unfortunate stranger to make
way for him in the stalls. But with all his
retirement he did his work as a witness to the
necessity of science ; pleaded in pamphlets
more than once for its iatroduction into the
University course, pressed on his own College
successfully the establishment of science scholar-
ships, helped on the time when, not in the
Thirties, scarcely in the Forties, the hour and
the man» should come. He Uved into old age,
active to the last. Shortly before his death
he visited me in Somersetshire, to meet his

PBE80IENTIFIG SCIENCE. 35

former schoolfellow, Lord Taunton. The two old
men had not seen each other since they slept in
the same room at Winchester fifty-five years
before, along with one of the Barings, and Ford,
author afterwards of the " Handbook to Spain."
It was plea^sant to hear the chirping reminiscences
of the successful veterans, boys once again to-
gether. He died in 1867, and lies at rest beneath
the stone pulpit in the Chapel court : ever I take
off my hat when I pass his now forgotten grave.

The only other savant of the time was
Buckland, and there was certainly no over-
looking him. Elected Fellow of Corpus in
1809, he gave his whole time for ten years
to the fossil-hunting begun by him in the
Winchester chalkpits as a boy, not then reduced
into a science ; till in 1819 the Prince Eegent,
at the instance of Sir Joseph Banks, created
a professorship of geology, and nominated
Buckland to the post. His lecture-room in
the Ashmolean filled at once, not so much
with undergraduates as with dons, attracted
by his liveliness and the novelty of his subject.
The Chancellor, Lord Grenville, visiting Oxford,
sat beside And compUmented him ; Howley,
afterwards Archbishop, Sir PhiUp Egerton, so
famous later as a collector, were among his
devotees ; Whately, Philip Duncan, Shuttleworth,
pelted their friend with playful squibs : " Some
doubts,** wrote Shuttleworth,

Some doubts were once expressed about the Flood,
Buckland arose, and all was clear as — mud.

36 BEMINISCENGES OF OXFORD.

Alarms about the Deluge had not yet been
generally awakened ; in his early works,
ReliquicB Diluviance and Vindicice Geologicce,
he posed as orthodox and reconcilist ; it was
not till 1836 that his Bridgewater Treatise
roused the heresy-hunters, that a hurricane
of private and newspaper protests whistled
round his disregarding head, that Dean Gaisford
thanked God on his departure for Italy —
" We shall hear no more of his geology '' — that
Pusey organised a protest against the con-
ferring a degree on Owen, and Keble clenched
a bitter argument by the conclusive dogma
that "when God made the stones he made
the fossils in them/' Worse was still to come ;
the " Six Days "' were to be impeached ; the
convenient formula " before the Flood ** to be
dispossessed ; the old cosmogony which puzzled
Mr. Ephraim Jenkinson to fade slowly from
the popular mind, reposing as a curiosity,
where it still occasionally survives, amid the
mental furniture of the country clergy ; and
in the great awakening of knowledge which
severed theology from science and recast BibUcal
criticism he was amongst the earhest and
most energetic pioneers. The Clergy, the
Dons, the Press, fell upon him altogether ;
" Keep the St. James* Chronicles," wrote to
him his wife, "everyone of which has a rap
at you ; but I beseech you not to lower your
dignity by noticing newspaper statements."
Wise words ! which not every wife would

PBESCIENTIFIC SCIENCE. 37

unreservedly emit. Without her moral aid
and intellectual support Buekland would not
so lightly and so confidently have faced his
difficulties and achieved his aims. An accom-
plished mineralogist before their marriage, she
threw her whole nature into her husband's
work. She deciphered and transcribed his
horribly illegible papers, often adding polish
to their style, and her skilful fingers illus-
trated many of his books. Night after night
while his Bridgewater Treatise was in making,
she sate up writing from his dictation till the
morning sun shone through the shutters.
From her came the first suggestion as to the
true character of the lias coprolites. When,
at two o'clock in the morning, the idea flashed
upon him that the Cheirotherium footsteps
were testudinal, he woke his wife from sleep ;
she hastened down to make paste upon
the kitchen table, while he fetched in the
tortoise from the garden ; and the pair soon
saw with joint 'delight that its impressions
on the paste were almost identical with those
upon the slabs. Gonial as a hostess, sympa-
thetic as a friend, she was not less exemplary
as a mother. Her children, departed and
surviving, called and call her blessed : "As
good a man and wife," wrote Prank Buckland
of his parents, "as ever did their duty to
God and their feUow-creatures." " Never,'' says
her daughter, "was a word of evil speaking
permitted. ' My dear, educated people always

38 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

talk of things, not persons ; it is only in the
servants' hall that people gossip/ " ^ He was
a wonderful lecturer, clear, fluent, rapid, over-
flowing with witty illustrations, dashing down
amongst us ever and anon to enforce an
intricate point with Samsonic wielding of a
cave-bear jaw or a hyaena thigh bone. Of
questions from his hearers he was intolerant ;
they checked the rapids of his talk. "It
would seem," queried a sceptical Caledonian
during a lecture in North Britain, " that
your animals always walked in one direc-
tion ? '" " Yes," was the reply, " Gheirotherium
was a Scotchman, and he always traveUed
south."

Even more attractive than the lectures at the
Clarendon were the field davs ; the ascent of
ShotoTer, with pauses at ea^h of its six deposits,
the lumps of Montlivalvia hammered out from
the coralKne oohte, the selenite crystals higher
up, the questionings over the ironsand on the
summit, over the ochre and pipeclay on the
rough moorland long since ploughed into unin-
teresting fertility. These are undergraduate
memories ; but I recall much earlier days, when
I was wont to play with Frank Buckland and
his brother in their home at the comer of
Tom Quad : the entrance hall with its grinning

* An unconscious echo of Plato : "Aei ir«pl ikvBpi&Ttiv^rohs Xiyovs
rroioufjifyovSy ^Kurra ^tXoo'0(^(f irp4irov Toiovvras.** "Ever chattering

about persons, a proceeding quite inconsistent with philosophy. '
— Republicy vL 12.

PBESGIENTIFIG SCIENCE. 3d

monsters on the low staircase, of whose latent
capacity to arise and fall upon me I never
quite overcame my doubts ; the side-table in
the dining-room covered with fossils, " Paws
off '' in large letters on a protecting card ;
the very sideboard candlesticks perched on
saurian vertebrae ; the queer dishes garnish-
ing the dinner table — horseflesh I remember
more than once, crocodile another day, mice
baked in batter on a third — while the
guinea-pig under the table inquiringly nib-
bled at your infantine toes, the bear walked
round your chair and rasped your hand
with file-like tongue, the jackal's fiendish
yell close by came through the open window,
the monkey's hairy arm extended itself sud-
denly over your shoidder to annex your fruit
and walnuts. I think the Doctor rather
scared us ; we did not understand his sharp,
quick voice and peremptory manner, and
preferred the company of his kind, charming,
highly cultured wife. Others found him
alarming ; dishonesty and quackery of all
kinds fled from that keen, all-knowing vision.
When Tom Tower was being repaired, he
watched the workmen from his window with
a telescope, and frightened a scamping mason
whom he encountered descending from the
scaffold by bidding him go back and bring
down that faxdty piece of work he had just
put into a turret. At Palermo, on his wedding
tour, he visited St. Bosaha's shrine.

iO REMINISGJENOES OF OXFORD.

That grot where oUves nod,
Where, darling of each heart and eye,
From all the youth of Sicfly

St. RosaUe retired to God.

It was opened by the priests, and the relics
of the saint were shown. He saw that they
were not BosaUa^s : " They are the bones of
a goat/' he cried out, " not of a woman '' ;
and the sanctuary doors were abruptly closed.

Frank used to tell of their visit long after-
wards to a foreign cathedral, where was exhibited
a martyr's blood — dark spots on the pavement
ever fresh and ineradicable. The professor
dropped on the pavement and touched the
stain with his tongue. "I can tell you what
it is ; it is bat's urine ! "

I can see him now, passing rapidly through
the quadrangle and down St. Aldate's — broad-
brimmed hat, tail coat, umbrella, great blue
bag. This last he always carried ; it is shown
in Ansdell's portrait, the best hkeness of him
by far. Sir H. Davy once expected him, and,
disappointed, asked his servant if Dr. Buckland
had not called. "No, sir, there has been no
one but a man with a bag ; he called three
times, and I always told him you were out."

Suddenly, in the midst of unsurpassed energy
and usefulness, came the blow which ended, not
the life — better perhaps had it been so — but
the vigour and beauty of the life. For eight
years he lay torpid and apathetic; the only
books he would open were the Bible and the

PBE80IENTIFIG 8GIEN0E. 41

Leisure Hour! EBs fine collection, with his
own hammermarks and his wife^s neat labels
on every stone, he bequeathed to his successors
in the Chair. It lies, or lay till lately,
neglected, useless, unarranged, in the cellars
of the Museum. All students who have worked
there know how slovenly and distracting is (or
was) the disposition of its geological specimens ;
yet,* if not for the sake of education and
learning, then for the sake of sentiment and
reverence, one would think that the Conscript
Fathers might accord, if they have not yet
done so, a place conspicuous and honoured to
the traditions and the autographs of the first
great Oxford scientist.

I think no other science was in those days
even nominally represented, except " Experi
mental Philosophy,'' as it was called, which
meant lectures in the Clarendon by a cheery
Mr. Walker, who constructed and exploded
gases, laid bare the viscera of pumps and
steam engines, forced mercury through wood
blocks in a vacuum, manipulated galvanic
batteries, magic-lanterns, air-guns. This last
demonstration once, Uke decent David's dancing
in " Don Juan," " excited some remark." A
wicked wag loaded the air-gun before the
professor entered, and when the trigger was
pulled we saw some plaster fall from the ceiling,
and a clatter was heard presently on the
staircase. The bullet had gone up into the
lecture-room above, and put to flight another

42 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

professor with his pupils. A humbler philo-
sopher in the same line was Thomas, a
Holywell glazier, who used to give gratuitous
popular lectures in the music-room to working
men, usmg implements and apparatus, magnets,
galvanometers, induction coils, cleverly fash-
ioned by himself. He was genuinely and
widely scientific ; made an interesting discovery
as to the thinness at which decomposed glass
yields complementary colours — I have some of
his specimens in my cabinet — discovered that
certain double salts, crystallised at particular
temperatures, assume special forms and become
beautiful microscopic objects — an electrician,
a naturaUst, an optician, a discoverer^ a
working man. A few years later came another
self-taught genius. Chapman, a watchmaker
with a shop opposite BaUiol, whose large and
well-stocked marine aquarium, a thing of
beauty at that time rare, attracted wondering
visitors. He it was who discovered and rescued
the monster Getiosawrus at Kirtlington Station.
He had dismounted from the train with his
son on a botanising expedition just as the
first fragment was disclosed by the pickaxe,
found the foreman, stopped the digging,
telegraphed for PhiUips, who superintended
the removal of the enormous bones to the
Oxford Museum. The credit accrued to
Phillips, no one mentioned Chapman. "The
page slew the boar, the peer had the gloire.''
But the names of Phillips and the Museum

PRESCIENTIFIC SCIENCE. 43

are anticipatory ; I must go back to clear
the way for them. The man who made them
and much else possible in Oxford is still alive,^
member of a family exceptional in longevity
as in almost all besides. His advent in the
early Forties, his regeneration of the Anatomy
School at Ohristchurch, the Hope Bequest,
the erection of the new Museum, the re-
markable genius who was its architect, the
impulse which it communicated at once to
Science and Art, its welcome to the British
Association, its handselling by the Great
Darwin fight in its new Theatre from morn
till dewy eve, when Huxley and S. Wilberforce
were protagonists, and Henslow held the stakes,
— I must keep for another chapter.

^ He died in October, 1900, while these sheets were pass-
ing through the press.

44

CHAPTER lY.

SCIENTIFIC SCIENCE.

Jam jam Efficaci do manus Scientise.

Horace.

Dr. Acland— His Influence— The New Museum — Its Erection —
Woodward — An Art Colony — William Morris and Rossetti —
The British Association Meeting of 1860 — The Darwinian
Discussion — ^Wilberforce and the " Venerable Ape " — Huxley's
Reply — The Statistician and the Symbolist — After the Battle
— Darwinism a Decade I^ter — The Microscopical Society —
J. O. Westwood.

IN 1844 Dr. Acland, settling in Oxford aa
a physician on Dr. Wootten's early and
lamented death, was made Lee's Header of
Anatomy at Ghristchurch. The subject had
not formed part of University studies ; Sir
Christopher Pegge had drawn small audiences
to fluent desultory lectures ; Dr. Eidd, who
vacated the chair to Dr. Acland, had published a
monograph on the anatomy of the mole-cricket,
whose novelty moved the mirth of his pro-
fessional brethren. The small theatre contained
a cast of Echpse's skeleton with a few dreary
preparations in wax ; corpses were sent from
the gallows for dissections, at which an in-
tending medical student would now and then
assist ; there was a tradition that the bodv
of a woman hanged for murder had once,
when laid out on the table, shown signs of

SCIENTIFIC SCIENCE. 45

life, had been restored by the professor, and
dismissed, let us hope to sin no more. In
Oxford, or out of it, Invertebrate Zoology
was a subject little studied, and, while micro-
scopes were costly and imperfect, could not
be generally carried out. A comparative
anatomist, however. Dr. Acland determined
to be. Going to Shetland for practical work
amongst the marine fauna, he encountered
Edward Forbes, employed on the same errand ;
shared his labours, caught his enthusiasm,
and profited by his knowledge. Appointed
to the Christchurch Chair, he amassed
slides and preparations, introducing the first
microscope which had been seen in Oxford.
He employed for dissection the deft fingers
of J. G. Wood, then an undergraduate ; from
the yet more skilful hands of Charles Robertson
— ^who, under his tuition, became afterwards
Aldrichian Demonstrator and tutor for the
Science Schools, and whose " Zoological Series "
gained a medal in the Exhibition of 1862 —
proceeded nearly all the beautiful biological
preparations now on the Museum shelves.
The lectures began in 1845 ; they were
dehvered in the down-stairs theatre, whence
we ascended to the room above, to sit at
tables furnished with Uttle railroads on which
ran microscopes charged with iUustrations of
the lecture, alternately with trays of coffee.
A few senior men came from time to time,
but could not force their minds into the new

46 BEMINI8GENGES OF OXFORD.

groove. Dr. Ogle, applying his eye to the
microscope, screwed a quarter-inch right
through the object ; and Dr. Kidd, after
examining some delicate morphological pre-
paration, while his young colleague explained
its meaning, made answer j&rst, that he did
not beheve in it, and, secondly, that if it
were true he did not think God meant us to
know it. So we were mostly undergrad-
uates; and greatly we enjoyed lectures, micro-
scopes, and the discussions which Dr. Acland
encouraged ; though these last exercises were
after a time suppressed, as endangering lapses
into the Uve et ludicrum. On one occasion,
so fame reported, the men being invited to
relate instances of surprising animal instinct,
it was announced by an imaginative student,
to the consternation of the Professor, who
did not appreciate jokes, that " he knew a
man whose sister had a tame jellyfish which
would sit up and beg.""

But all this teaching bore fruit ; and before
the Forties had run half their course the ques-
tion of a Museum arose. There were Buckland's
treasures houseless, Dr. Acland's had outgrown
their sedem angiistam, and when Hope's
noble entomological collection, accepted together
with its curator, had to be stored away in
drawers and boxes of a room in the Taylor
building, it was felt that the old Ashmolean
must be supplanted by a temple worthy of
the University. The proposal was vehemently

8GIENTIFIG 8GIENGE. 47

denounced ; by economists on the ground of
cost, by the old-fashioned classicists as intru-
sive, by theologians as subtly ministering to
false doctrine, heresy, and schism. SeweU of
Exeter, of whom I shall have more to say,
strained the clerical prerogative of bigotry by
protesting against it in a University sermon.
Backed by Daubeny and Buckland, as later
by Dean Liddell and Professor Phillips, Dr.
Acland sedulously pressed it ; till early in the
Pifties the money was voted, the design adopted,
the first stone laid by Lord Derby, and the
work begun — due, as ought always to be
remembered, to the initiative and persistence
of Acland more than of any other man. Its
erection popularised in Oxford Art no less
than Science. The growth of artistic feeling
had been for some time perceptible ; Hunger-
ford Pollen's painting of the Merton Chapel
ceiling drew men to the study of decoration ;
the Eldon drawings were laid out in the
Taylor ; Mr. Combe's fine gallery of Pre-
RaphaeUtes, the collections of choice engravings
made by Griffith of Wadham and by Manuel
Johnson, were Uberally and kindly shown ;
James Wyatt, the picture dealer, loved to
fill his High Street shop with Prouts and
Constables and Havills, and an occ^ional
Turner water-colour ; an exhibition of paintings
at the Angel, promoted by Captain Strong,
an accomplished amateur, brought out un-
known talent and drew the artists together.

48 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

Millais was often in Oxford as the guest of
Mr. Drury at Shotover ; Holman Hunt was
working in Mr. Combe's house at "The Light
of the World/' brought with him from Chelsea ;
nor can anyone who knew young Venables,
curate of St. Paul's, an intimate with the
Combes, doubt whence, consciously or un-
consciously. Hunt drew the face of his Christ.
Then into our midst came Woodward, archi-
tect of the Museum, a man of rare genius and
deep artistic knowledge, beautiful in face and
character, but with the shadow of an early death
already steaUng over him. He was a grave
and curiously silent man : of his partners,
men greatly his inferiors, the elder. Sir Thomas
Deane, was a ceaseless chatterbox, the younger,
son to Sir Thomas, stammered. Spaking
in Congregation, Jeune hit off the trio after
his manner : " One won't talk, one can't talk,
one never stops talking." Woodward brought
with him his Dublin pupils, drew round him
eager Oxonians, amongst them Morris and
Burne-Jones, not long come up to Exeter.
The lovely Museum rose before us like an
exhalation ; its every detail, down to panels
and footboards, gas-burners and door handles,
an object lesson in art, stamped with Wood-
ward's picturesque inventiveness and refinement.
Not before had ironwork been so plastically
trained as by Skidmore in the chestnut boughs
and foUage which sustained the transparent
roof ; the shafts of the interior arcades, re-

WOODWARD,

SCIENTIFIC SCIENCE, 49

presenting in their sequence the succession
of British rocks, sent us into the EadcUffe
Library for the mastery of geological classifi-
cation ; every morning came the handsome
red-bearded Irish brothers Shea, bearing plants
from the Botanic Garden, to reappear under
their chisels in the rough-hewn capitals of the
pillars.

Nor herb nor flow'ret glistened there

But was carved in the cloister arches as fair.

It seemed that Art was in the air : Mrs.
Bartholomew Price, with Miss Cardwell's aid,
painted her St. Giles* drawing-room in no
Philistine taste ; the graceful sunshade work
outside Dr. Acland's windows found imitation
in many another street ; Ruskin, whose books
in 1850 the librarian of my College refused
to purchase for the Ubrary, was read as he
had not been read before ; while he himself
hovered about to bless the Museum work,
and to suggest improvements which silent
Woodward sometimes smilingly put by. The
Committee of the Union authorised Woodward
to build a debating-room, to decorate which —
alas ! upon untempered mortar ! — came down
Eossetti and Val Prinsep, and Hughes and
Stanhope, and Pollen, and Monro the sculptor.
A merry, roUicking set they were: I was
working daily in the Library, which at that
time opened into the gallery of the new room,
and heard their laughter and songs and jokea
and the volleys of their soda-water corks ;

50 REMimSGENCES OF OXFORD.

for this innutrient fluid was furnished to them
without stint at the Society's expense, and the
bill from the Star Hotel close by amazed the
treasurer. It was during this visit that Morris
and Rossetti, with Rogers, a pupil of Woodward,
hunting in the parish churches on Sunday
evenings to find a Guinevere, met with the
handsome girl who became afterwards the wife
of WilKam Morris and Rossetti's cherished
friend. I well remember her sister and herself ;
but she survives in sacred widowhood.

At last the Museum was so far finished
as to receive the British Association of 1860.
Sections fell conveniently into the lecture-rooms :
the area, not yet choked with cases, held the
evening gatherings ; and the large Library,
devoid of books and shelves, was dedicated to
the Darwinian discussion, the great event of
the week. The room filled early, and we
waited long. Owen was to take the chair,
but did not come ; he was replaced by an
unclerical-looking man in black, whom we in
Oxford knew not, but whom all Cambridge
honoured as Professor Henslow. The attack
on Darwin's book was to be led by the Bishop
of Oxford, who had written in the last Qtuir-
terly a denunciatory article inspired by Owen,
and Huxley was to head the defence. The
Bishop came late, trampling his way through
the dense crowd to his place upon the platform,
his face no longer refined and spiritual as in
the early Richmond portrait ; coarsened some-

SGIENTIFIG 8GIENGE, 51

Tvhat, even plebeianised, by advancing years,
but resourceful, pugnacious, impregnable, not
a little arrogant. On the chairman's other
side sat Huxley ; hair jet black and thick,
sUght whiskers, pale full fleshy face, the two
strong lines of later years already marked, an
ominous quiver in his mouth, and an arrow
ready to come out of it. For a moment
Daubeny beamed on us at the upper door,
inviting all at three o'clock to his experimental
garden on the Ifiley Road. Professor Draper
of New York, eminent, serious, nasal, read a
paper on Evolution ; then, during an expectant
pause, out came the Derby dog in the person
of old " Dicky " Greswell of Worcester, who,
with great eyes, vast white neckcloth, luminous
bald head and specta<jles, rising and falling
rhythmically on his toes, opined that all theo-
ries as to the ascent of man were vitiated by
the fact, undoubted but irrelevant, that, in
the words of Pope, Great Homer died three
thousand years ago. Another pause, an appeal
from the chairman to Huxlev, his sarcastic
response that he certainly held a brief for
Science, but had not yet heard it assailed.

Then up got Wilberforce, argumentative,
rhetorical, amusing ; retraced the ground of
his article, distinguished between a "working
and a causal hypothesis,^' compUmented " Pro-
fessor Huxley who is about to demoUsh me,'*
plagiarised from a mountebank sermon by
Burgon, expressing the " disquietude " he should

52 BEMINISOENCES OF OXFORD.

feel were a ** venerable ape** to be shown to
Mm as bis ancestress in the Zoo : a piece of
clever, diverting, unworthy claptrap. Huxley
rose, white with anger. " I should be sorry
to demoKsh so eminent a prelate, but for
myself I would rather be descended from an
ape than from a divine who employs authority
to stifle truth/* A gasp and shndder through
the room, the scientists uneasy, the orthodox
furious, the Bishop wearing that fat, pro-
voking smile which once, as Osborne Gordon
reminds us,^ impelled Lord Derby in the House
of Lords to an unparliamentary quotation from
'' Hamlet/* " I am asked," Huxley went on,
" if I accept Mr. Darwin's book as a complete
causal hypothesis. Belated on a roadless
conmion in a dark night, if a lantern were
offered to me, should I refuse it because it
shed imperfect light? I think not — I think
not.*' He met Wilberforce's points, not always
effectively, not entirely at his ease ; the
** venerable ape's " rude arms were choking
him. The Bishop radiantly purged himself.
He did not mean to hurt the Professor's
feelings ; it was our fatdt — we had laughed,
and that made him pursue the joke. We
laughed again, and Huxley was not appeased.
Another pause, broken by a voice from the
crowd of a grey-haired, Roman-nosed, elderly
gentleman. It was Admiral Fitzroy, and
men listened ; but when they found he had

* Page 271, note.

Kx.

PROFESSOR HUXLEV.

8GIENTIFIG SGIENGE. 53

nothing more to say than that Darwin^s
book had given him acutest pain, the cry of
** Question ^ silenced him. Another voice
from the far end of the long room, a stout
man waved and slapped a blue-book ; told us
that he was no naturahst but a statistician,
and that if you could prove Darwin's theories
you could prove anything. A roar of dis-
pleasure proclaimed the meeting's inaptitude
at that moment for statistics, and the stout
man made his exit with a defiant remonstrance
Now, we thought, for business ; but no, there
was another act of comedy. From the back
of the platform emerged a clerical gentleman,
asking for a blackboard. It was produced,
and amid dead silence he chalked two crosses
at its opposite comers, and stood pointing to
them as if admiring his achievement. We
gazed at him, and he at us, but nothing came
of it, tm suddenly the absurdity of the situa-
tion seemed to strike the whole assembly
simultaneously, and there went up such an
aa-fieoTo^; yiXm as those serious waUs would never
hear again. Again and again the laughter
pealed, as purposeless laughter is wont to do ;
under it the artist and his blackboard were
gently persuaded to the rear, and we saw him
no more. He was supposed to be an Irish
parson, scientifically minded ; but what his
hieratics meant or what he wished to say
remains inscrutable, the thought he had in
him, as Oarlyle says of the long-flowing Turk

5i REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

who followed Anacharsis Clootz, conjectural
to this day.

So at last the fight began, with words
strong on either side, and argtiments long
since superannuate ; so all day long the
noise of battle rolled. The younger men
were on the side of Darwin, the older men
against him ; Hooker led the devotees, Sir
Benjamiin Brodie the malcontents ; till the
sacred dinner -hour drew near. Henslow
dismissed us with an impartial benediction,
College Halls and hospitable homes received
both combatants and audience ; nor had
Daubeny any visitors to his experimental
garden. Next day I met Rolleston, and asked
after Huxley *s symptoms. "In my room,'"
said he, "hang portraits of Huxley, and of
S. Oxon. When I came down this morning
I give you my word that Huxley's photograph
had turned yellow .*' Ten years later I en-
countered him, anything but yellow, at the
Exeter meeting of the Association. Again
there was a bitter assault on Darwinism,
this time by a Scottish doctor of divinity ;
with smiling serenity Huxley smote him hip
and thigh, the audience, hostile or cold at
Oxford, here ecstatically acquiescent. The
decade had worked its changes : Darwin and
Evolution, fighting in their courses against
Inscience and Prejudice, had subdued the
popular mind. PhiUstia herself was glad of
them.

SCIENTIFIC BCIENCE. * 55

In Oxford for a time after this science
was tolerated sceptically rather than cordially
welcomed. "Brodie has done it at last, gentle-
men,'' laughed Chaffers cheerfully to his
Brasenose pupils, when during lecture was
hoard a tremendous explosion — issuing, as it
turned out, from the new heating apparatus
at St. Mary's, not from the Glastonbury
laboratory. At this day, according to Professor
Bay Lankester, it receives an indecently in-
adequate proportion either of recognition or
emolument. Conservatism hated it as novel.
Orthodoxy feared it as emancipating ; even
men like Jowett ^ proclaimed war against it
on behalf of the "ancient studies," as en-
croaching on and menacing the "higher con-
ception of knowledge and of the mind," as
antagonistic to " morals and rehgion and
philosophy and history and language" —
curiously unaware that their own avowed
ignorance of its nature, subjects, tendencies,
precluded them from forming, much more
from expressing, an opinion. Nevertheless,
before the decade was far advanced science
established itself in Oxford. The Museum
buildings formed an object lesson which it
was impossible to overlook ; their contents,
laid out and labelled, their minerals, fossils,
insects, zoological specimens and preparations,
appealed to |^ the naturalist instinct which
from many natures school and college had not

* ** Life and Letters of Jowett," vol. ii., p. 268.

W BEMINISGENCE8 OF OXFORD,

quite extirpated ; professors came amongst us,
men already stamped with classical University
distinction, such as Rolleston, Brodie, Balfour ;
or, like Mrs. Bayham Badger's second husband,
''of European reputation,"' such as dear old
Phillips. The splendid show of microscopes
at the British Association conversazione had
excited interest and emulation ; and when in
1861 an enthusiastic young New College
naturaUst projected a Microscopical Society
the idea was warmly taken up. Dr. Acland
was its first president, and deUvered an in-
augural address ; it met and worked regularly,
with papers and discussions, systematic investi-
gation of the rich Oxford microscopic fauna,
periodical exhibitions in the Museum, which
drew large audiences and laid wide foundations.
Conspicuous at these gatherings was the
famous entomologist and very lovable personage,
J. O. Westwood, who had come to Oxford in
the late Forties as controller of Mr. Hope's col-
lection. As far as I know, he has never been
memorialized in print, and I may appropriately
end this science chapter with a brief tribute
to his memory. His claim to eminence
was not only biological ; he was also a speciaKst
in the archaeology and palaeography of art,
the highest living authority on fictile ivories
and inscribed stones. Bom and brought up
a Quaker, he was apprenticed to an engraver,
acquiring the power of accurate delineation
which enabled him so graphically to illustrate

SCIENTIFIC 8CIEN0E. 57

his various works. Articled for a time to a
London solicitor and afterwards a partner in
the firm, he was persuaded by Mr. Hope to
remove to Oxford, first as curator of the
Hope collection, then as earUest occupant of
the Natural History Chair which he was f oumd-
ing ; and at 0:?:ford Westwood remained till his
death. Sprung from the ranks, and a late-
bom son of the University, he received scant
welcome from the Dons ; the exclusiveness
of that time being further exasperated by his
Nonconformist origin and opinions, until re-
buked by Richard Michell, the PubUc Orator,
who reminded his friends that their new col-
league was "not sectarian but insecta/rianJ"
The good-humoured simplicity of his manner
and his unfailing amiabiUty to all who sought
enlightenment in his department soon won
men's hearts, and he became as popular as
he deserved to be.

I knew him not till 1860. Attracted by a
jar containing Uve specimens of the uncommon
and beautiful Cheirocephalus diaphanus, which
I had found in a rain-water pool near the
Headington Asylum, and had sent to a natural
history exhibition at the Town Hall, he
begged me to call on him at the Museum and,
finding that I was studying the Goleoptera,
placed at my disposal books and specimens,
sparing no pains to encourage and assist me.
I happened to be dexterous in microscopical pre-
paration, and he urged the Museimi Delegates

68 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

to employ me in mounting a series of insect
anatomies after a conception of his own ; but
the plan fell through. His own technique
was as remarkable as his knowledge ; with no
tools except scissors, forceps, lens, camel-hair
brush, gum tragacanth, and colour box, he
performed miracles of dissection and restora-
tion. 1 remember his falling from a ladder in
the Library, and crushing in his breast-pocket
a pill-box containing a rare beetle. The ruin
seemed hopeless, the insect a powder of frag-
ments ; but he set to work at once, and next
day showed me the beetle restored to all its
former beauty. His unerring instinct in diag-
nosing and locating a new species was made
the subject of a practical joke. Some saucy
young entomologists obtained a chocolate beetle,
made and coloured under their directions, from
a famous shop in Paris, and sent it to West-
wood for identification fixed in a glass-topped
box. He wrote that without handling it he
could not be certain of the genus, but that it
was a tetramerous beetle belonging to the
family CerambycidcB. The useful letter " h " he
never succeeded in pronouncing. He once
asked Mansel.who was St. Bee. Eemembering
his pecuharity, Mansel answered that he was
a near kinsman of St. ^Ives. At an electoral
contest between Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Hardy,
Westwood, coming in late, hurried and breath-
less, announced his yote for " Glad , no, no,

I mean ^Ardy.'" Henry Smith claimed the Tote

SCIENTIFIC 80IEN0E. 69

for Gladstone. Why, said the Vice-Chancellor,
" he only pronounced the first syllable of Mr.
Gladstone's name.'' " Yes, sir ; but he did not
pronounce the first letter of Mr. Hardy's."

He left more than one standard work : in
science, the "Modem Classification of Insects,"
and a beautiful but costly monograph of
" British Moths and Butterflies " ; in art, the
" Palaeographia Sacra Kctoria," with " Minia-
tures and Ornaments of Anglo-Saxon and
Irish MSS.," and the monumental "Lapidarium
Walhse." He was President of the Entomo-
logical Society, and received the Royal Society's
gold medal. We felt when he passed away
that a zoological professor as good, perhaps
better, might be found ; but that the minutely
a<5CompKshed entomologist, holding in mind's
eye and memory all the discovered and named
insects in all the museums of the world, acces^
sible from his fluent colloquial French and
German to every Continental scientist, ready
ever to display and expound his treasures,
patiently to the unlearned, enthusiastically to
the accompKshed visitor, could probably never
be replaced. Men said of him, as was said of
RicheUeu when he died, " II laisse plus de vide
qu'il n'a tenu de place." Entering the famiUar
room, I shall never cease to miss and to recall
regretfidly the short figure, shrewd kindly eye,
welcoming voice, long wave of snow white hair
and beard, which went to form the outward
man of J. O. Westwood.

60

OHAPTEE V.

^SCULAPIUS IN THE THEftTIES. '

This is the Prince of Leeches : fever, plague.
Cold rheum, and hot podagra, do but look on him,
And quit their grasp upon the tortured sinews.

Walter Scott.

Ad Oxford Medical Directory — Pegge^Wall — Bourn — Kidd — Ireland
— ^West — Wood—Tuckwell — A Picturesque Survival— A Friend
of Abernethy — His Wonderful Memory — His jeux (Teaprit —
The Last of the Old School.

*" T ONG and lasting/' says Lockhart in his now
JLJ forgotten " Eeginald Dalton/' while he re-
counts the blood-letting of an Oxford town and
gown row — " long and lasting shall be the tokens
of its wrath — long shall be the faces of Pegge,
Wall, Kidd, and Kght shaU be their hearts, as
they walk their rounds to-morrow morning —
long shall be the stately stride of Ireland, and
long the clyster-pipe of West — long and deep
shall be the probing of thy skilful lancet, O
Tuckwell ; and long shall be all your bills, and
long, very long, shall it be ere some of them
are paid/' Lockhart wrote in the Twenties,
but most of his doctors were walking their
rounds ten years later ; walking , for Oxford
was a small place then, and our medicos
performed their ambarvalia on foot. Sir
Christopher Pegge was a showy, handsome man.

jESCulafitts in the thirties. 61

a Fellow of Oriel in Oners prime of reputation ;
lie had no great practice, but as Eegius
Professor drew men to his spirited lectures.
Though comparatively young, he wore the old-
fashioned cocked hat and wig, with the massive
gold-headed cane, which his successor. Dr.
Kidd — a sensible, homely man — ^was the first
medical professor to abandon. Kidd, Wall,
Bourn were the popular physicians of the de-
cade. Kidd was a little man, trotting about
the streets in a "spencer,'' a tailless great-coat
then becoming obsolete, and worn only by
himself and Dr. Macbride. Bourn was an in-
sinuating, smiling, soft-voiced man — "Have we
any report from the bowels ? '* was his regular
whispered question to lady patients suffering
from what Epimenides the Cretan called yaaripes
apyaL Wall I Cannot recall, but I remem-
ber his widow and Bourn's, picturesque old
ladies in black velvet and lace, whose card-
parties, preceded by formal tea and closed by
substantial suppers, attracted the clever genial
men and women whom I have earlier men-
tioned. Kidd, with two droU little daughters
something like himself, lived on into the early
Fifties, as did Ogle, father to the well-known
London physician of to-day. Ireland repre-
sented the ** matriculated apothecaries '* of that
date, men who, Uke the elder Pendennis in his
lowly days, made up their own medicines,
attended ladies at the most interesting period
of their lives, sold Epsom salts, blisters, hair

62 BEMINI8GENCES OF OXFOBD.

powder, across the counter of the shops which
they called their surgeries. Some remained
humble to the end ; not so Ireland, who somehow
obtained a Scotch degree, discarded the surgery,
and set up a brass plate as Dr. Ireland on his
house in Pennyfarthing Street. He was a
grandiloquent, pompous man ; Lockhart's
" stately stride ^ exactly hits him off — a disso-
lute old scamp withal ; some of the stories told
of him I should not like to quote. I re-
member his swing along the street with cane
held at attention ; recall his stalking into my
mother^s drawing-room with his new honour
fresh upon him, and bespeaking her congratu-
lations on the fact that he would "enter the
Kingdom of Heaven as a Doctor of Medicine.^'
I saw him later in extreme old age ; he said
that he was ninety-nine years old — he was
nothing hke so old — but he added, with his
hands aloft, "My memory is in ruins.*' He
deserved credit, however, for discovering the
mathematical talent of his servant lad Abram
Robertson, who became afterwards Professor
of Astronomy. West was his partner — tall,
gentlemanhke, gold-spectacled, married to the
daughter of a' rich and notable Alderman
Fletcher, whose hands continued to hold her
cards long after they had ceased, through
rheumatism, to be for other purposes pre-
hensile. West^s partner again and subsequent
successor was Wood, father to the naturalist,
who lived in the fine corner house opposite the

AiSGULAFIUS IN THE TRlllTIES. 6;]

King's Arms, built by Vanbrugb, and destroyed
to make way for the Indian Institute.

But by far the most conspicuous and in-
teresting of Lockhart's Hakims was Tuckwell,
for thirty years — from 1815 to 1845 — the
leading Oxford surgeon. In costume and
demeanour he was a survival from the more
picturesque and ceremonious past. He per-
vaded Oxford in a claret-coloured tail coat with
velvet collar, canary waistcoat with gilt but-
tons, l^ht brown trousers, two immense white
cravats propping and partly covering the chin,
a massive well-brushed beaver hat.^ His man-
ner and address were extraordinarily winning ;
a contemporary described him to me long ago,
in a letter which I happened to preserve, as
*^ the most fascinating man I ever met, a
favourite with all who knew him ; his cheery
brightness invaluable in a sick room, supported
as it was by his high repute and skill.'' Mr.
Abernethy, discontinuing practice, entreated
him to take his place ; he was, said Sir Ben-
jamin Brodie to me in 1853, " one of the
cleverest surgeons of his day." He was not a
member of the University, but had been edu-
cated at the then famous Aynho Grammar
School, whose eccentric master, Mr. Leonard,
was known for his scholarship and for his
addiction to green tea, which he kept ever by

* leaver.— There were no silk hats until late in the Thirties.
They cost two guineas ; only gentlemen wore them. New Col-
lege men of that day were known by their unbrushed hats.

64 BEMINISCEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

his side to moisten liis construes in Tacitus and
Horace. So Tuckwell • knew liis Latin books
minutely, and could quote them effectiyely.
He was pupil to Abemethy, who became much
attached to him ; his dinner table after his
marriage held a magnificent epergne, a wedding
present from the famous surgeon. Amongst his
comrades were the lads known afterwards as
Dr. Skey and Sir George Burrows. He worked
hard at his profession, and made himself a
proficient besides in French, Spanish, and
Italian. He went to Oxford, without introduc-
tion, friends, or money, about 1808, but rose
rapidly into practice, estabUshing himself in the
house opposite Magdalen elms, which a few old
Oxford men still associate with his name, and
which was to bear in later years the door-plate
of his son. His name is not only embalmed in
Lockhart's novel, but points the moral of a
bitter passage in the " Oxford Spy ^' :

If tutors punish what they seldom shun,
Severe to all who do — as they have done —
Their wild career at once pursue, condemn,
Give fees to Tuckwell and advice to them.

It was, as we have seen, the day of early
dinners, late suppers, nightly cards. Ombre
had gone out ; though it was said that old
Miss Horseman could still illustrate Belinda's
game, and unfold the mysteries of Manille and
Matador. Quadrille, piquet, whist, were the
games in TOgue ; and at the last two Tuckwell
was said to be one of the best players in

MR TUCKWELL, SI

MSGULAFIU8 IN THE THIRTIES. 65

England. David Gregorie, the Queen's Square
magistrate, invited liini to a three nights'
contest at piquet. It took place at Oxford, in
a select gathering of experts, and Gregorie
returned to London three hundred pounds the
poorer. He was no less skiKul as a chess
player, having learned from the famous Sarratt,
the great chess teacher, whose fee was a
guinea a lesson, and founding the club already
mentioned in these papers. The marveUous
memory which explains his prowess at cards
was shown in his power of quoting poetry.
Few men coidd beat him in capping verses ;
those present with him at a large party were
challenged to write down the titles of Shake-
speare's plays ; all tried, but he alone succeeded.
The story I am about to relate seems incredible,
but I heard it long ago from not a few in-
dependent witnesses. A bet was laid, and
heavy odds taken against it, that he woidd
repeat ten consecutive lines from any place at
which he might be set on in Shakespeare,
Milton, Dante, or Lope de Vega. The bet was
won. What proverbs and riddles were to
Solomon and his courtiers, that were im-
promptus and epigrams to the lively convives of
that pleasant time. A lady sang one night a
pretty Italian song by Metastasio, and the com-
pany appealed to him for a translation. He
hastily pencilled it as follows : —

Gentle Zephyr, ah ! if e'er
Thou meetst the Mistress of my heart,
F

66 BEMINI8GEN0E8 OF OXFORD,

Tell her thoii'rt a sigh sincere,
But never say whose sigh thou art.

Limpid Rivulet, ah ! if e'er
Thy murmuring waters near her gUde,

Say thou'rt swelled by many a tear.
But not whose eyes those tears suppUed.

Catherine Fanshawe's poem on the letter H
created much excitement when it appeared.^ It
was discussed one evening in his presence, and a
Miss Harriett Lee, a very clever girl — afterwards
Mrs. Wingfield, of Tickencote Hall — disparaged it.
" It's no great thing," she said ; " Tuckwell would
have done it just as well."" Next morning he
carried to her these lines on the letter W : —

Its existence began with this World full of tears.

And it first in the Work of Creation appears.

In the Whirlwind we feel and acknowledge its power,

And its influence hail in each soft faUing Shower.

Its presence the Woods and the Waters must own.

And 'tis found in the Dwelling of monarch and clown.

It will never forsake us in Want or in Woe,

And is heard in each Word that can comfort bestow.

It dwells with the Wealthy, the Witty, the Wise,

Yet assistance to Wretchedness never denies.

In the mournful Farewell if you hear it with pain,

In the sweet sound of Welcome 'twill meet you again.

'Tis the prop of our Laws, and the guide of our Will,

Which without it would lead us to nothing but HI.

It begins every Wish, every View it must bound,

And still to our Welfare essential is found.

In the last dying Whisper of man it shall rise,

And assist us with Wings to ascend to the skies;

'Midst the Wonders of Nature its form we shall view.

Until lost in the Wreck which shall Chaos renew.

^ Appendix D.

JS80ULAPIU8 IN THE THIRTIES. 67

His heart was as large as his brain was
keen ; if he fascinated his equals, he no less
won the love and gratitude of his humbler
neighbours. During the thirty years of his
celebrity his doors stood open for the first
two hours of every over-busy day to the poor
who chose to come, and who streamed in from
the country round to be tended without a fee.
He devoted to their care gratuitously the same
minute and searching skill, the same unerring
memory and rapid judgment, the same urbane
and cordial presence, which had made him
popular and fashionable among those who
were glad to pay him highly for these gifts ;
and when the large heart ceased to beat and
the keen brain to toil, while amongst a troop
of friendly mourners I followed his remains
along streets darkened by the signs of universal
sorrow, I saw the crowd of poor — to^be counted,
it was said, by hundreds — gathered in from
village and from slum for a final tribute
to the friend who had dispensed among them
health and healing through so many years.
He was the last of the old Oxford school ;
the "Brilliant Man" — to quote from Henry
Bulwer — amongst his University compeers, as
was Oanning among a wider and more high-
placed set. He retained the "grand manner''
of a fading age ; the refined and pointed, not
conventional and effusive, courtesy to women ;
the bounteous fund of ever-readv talk, altemat-
ing not monologist, seasoned not swamped with

68 BEMINI8GENGES OF OXFOBD.

allusion, recitation, epigram. They played as
well as worked, those fine old fellows — luserunt
satis atque hiberunt — lost and won their guineas
gaily, chirruped their genial wit and anecdote,
laid the ghosts of eating cares in floods of
generous "C5omef port, which enriched and
liberated, never dulled or overfraught, then*
brains. Some of us love them for it the
more ; let the " sicci " who start from wine,
the purists who spy sin in cards, remember
that behind this radiant conviviality the higher
virtues walked their round, moral excellence
hand in hand with mental power ; that often,
as in TuckweU's case, the day which culminated
in joyous revelry began in self-devoted altruism,
bidding us as our record closes turn from the
catalogue of professional and social triumphs to

That best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love.

69

OHAPTEE VI.

CALLIOPE IN THE THIRTIES.

The sound
Of instruments that made melodious chime
Was heard, of Harp and Organ; and who moved
Their chords and stops was seen ; his volant touch
Fled and pursued transverse the resonant Fugue.

Milton.

Early Amateurs-— Blanco White — ^Newman- -The Bewildered Butler
— ^Musicians a Caste apart — A Notable Organist — Jonathan
Sawell the Singer — A Letter from the Eighteenth Century —
Jullien — ^The Amateur Society — Oxford becomes Musical —
" Gregorian " Music — Jenny land's Visit — Sir Frederick
Ouseley — Sir John Stainer.

WHEN Music, heavenly maid, was young in
the present century, she had few votaries
in academic Oxford. The traditions of the place
were agamst her ; to be musical was bad form. '
There was once, to be sure, a Dean of Ohrist-
church who wrote charming glees and catches,
and respectable church music ; but the sole-
cisms of Dean Aldrich were expiated by his
successor, Cyril Jackson, who pronounced that
a boy " with no more ear nor a stone nor no
more voice nor an ass'^ would make an excel-
lent chorister ; and by Gaisf ord, who appointed
as singing men worn-out scouts and bedmakers.
In the Twenties and Thirties there were pro-
bably not half a dozen amateurs in Oxford.'

70 BEMINIS0ENGE8 OF OXFORD.

Blanco White was a violinist, so was Newman ;
and lis noble passage on the Inspiration of
Music, with its curious slip as to fourteen
notes in the scale, has become a loctis classictis ;
but he records the bewilderment of the Pro-
vost's butler, when, sent to announce his
election at Oriel, he found the new FeUow
playing on the fiddle, and inquired anxiously
if he had not mistaken the rooms or come
to the wrong person. Donkin played both
the violin and the piano ; George Rowden of
New College was one of the best double-bass
performers in England ; now and then at the
evening parties of the Heads a gifted lady
would, with Handel, Haydn, or Mozart, compel,
like Milton^s nightingale, pleased silence ; but
from these gatherings music, as encroaching
upon cards, was for the most part ostracised.
Even so late as 1846 Max Miiller, fresh from
musical Leipzig, found that no young man,
even if qualified, would stoop to the music-
stool in public, and that to ask a Don to play
"would have been considered an insidf; while
Hall6 visiting England two years later, tells
us that for a gentleman to be able to play
upon the piano was looked upon as a sign
of effeminacy, almost of vice. For by here-
ditary prejudice the professional musician was
looked upon as an inferior, to be paid for his
services, to be kept socially at a distance.
Prince Hal bore much from Falstaff, but broke
his head for likening his father to a singing

CALLIOPE IN THE THIRTIES. 71

man at Windsor ; stately Dr. Williams, when
headmaster of Winchester, took to hair-powder
because a lady mistook him for a bass singer
in the cathedral ; I shall recall later on the
consternation felt among the older men of
Oxford, when Ouseley, baronet, gentleman
commoner. Master of Arts, condescended to
become Doctor of Music ; and we all remember
Mr. Osborne's contempt for the " Honourables ''
to whom his daughter introduced him — "Lords,
indeed ? Why, at one of her swarreys I saw
one of 'em speak to a dam fiddler, a fellar
I despise/'

So music was relegated contemptuously
to a quasi-professional set, the chaplains,
singing men, Bible clerks, of the three choral
Colleges ; its Doctorate was a sham, the gradu-
ates not admitted to the sacred scarlet semi-
circle in the Theatre ; its Professor, with a
salary of £12 a year, appearing only at Com-
memoration to play the ramshackle old organ
in the Theatre. The Professor at that time
was Sir Henry Bishop, composer of deservedly
popidar part-songs, but inferior as a musician
to his very eminent predecessor. Dr. Crotch.
Of the three organists only one was notable.
Dr. Stephen Elvey of New College, a good
harmonist, an enthusiastic HandeUan, though
the loss of a leg prevented him from playing
pedal fugues, but of rough manner and sus-
picious temper. On the death of his first
wife he had married, with rather unusual

72 REMINI80EN0E8 OF OXFOBD.

promptitude, a pretty girl known as Perdita
amongst the New College undergraduates,
who used to crowd the " Slipe " gate on Sun-
days after service in order to see her pass
from Holywell Church. He presided shortly
afterwards at a concert, and the wag who
arranged its programme had inserted a glee
by his brother George, which appeared in the
bills as " Ah ! Why so soon, Elvey ? "

I remember the performance of Sir George
Elvey's Bachelor's exercise in the Music Boom,
I think in 1838, when Stephen Elvoy con-
ducted in the splendid robes which I tien
for the first time saw, the new Bachelor sitting
at the piano. The choral services in the
Chapels were not of a high order, though
individual voices of special sweetness kept
up their popularity. The finest adidt singer
of that time was Jonathan Sawell, chaplain of
New College and Magdalen, who possessed the
rare pure Mario-Kke tenor, almost touching
alto in the higher range. He long survived
his voice, singing with husky wooden notes
into the Fifties ; a cheery, popular fellow, and
an admirable oar ; he and Moon of Magdalen,
son to Alderman or Lord Mayor Moon, placed
on the river the first outrigger skiffs seen at
Oxford. His window in Magdalen, opposite
to the Physic Garden, was always beautiftdly
floral ; an adornment long since universal,
peculiar then to him and to Dr. Peter Maurice
of New College. As for the chorister boys.

CALLIOPE IN THE THIRTIES. 73

they ran wild. Their nominal master at
Magdalen was an elderly Fellow, George Gran-
tham; who came to a tragic end, faUing out
of his window at bedtime into the deer park,
and found there next morning by his scout,
dead with a broken neck, the deer crowding
round him in an alarmed circle. His grave,
with G. G. incised, is in the comer between
the Chapel door and the entrance to the
Cloisters. There was a fire in the antechapel
at that time, and the surphced boys used as
they passed it to deposit chestnuts and potatoes,
which they recovered, matura et cocta, when
they came out. The New College brats were
not under better discipline. Many years ago,
while Uonising some strangers in the Chapel,
I observed that the plaster wing of a sham
oak angel had been broken oflF, and from the
crevice behind protruded a piece of paper.
I drew it out, yellow, stained, and creased.
I suppose that interest accrues even to trivial
personal records when ripened by the lapse
of years. We take no note to-day of a child's
naked footprint on the sand, but the impress
of the babv foot on the Roman villa floor at
Brading is a poem fertile in suggestion. So
I copy the crumpled fragment as it Ues before
me : " When this you find, recall me to your
mind. James PhiUp Hewlett, Subwarden's
chorister, April 26, 1796.'^ There follows the
roU of boys ; then this edifying legend : " Yeates
just gone out of chapel, making as if he was

74 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD,

ill, to go to Botleigh with Miss Watson. Mr.
Prickett reads prayers. Mr. Lardner is now
reading the second lesson. Mr. Jenks read the
first. Slatter shams a bad Eye because he did
not know the EngKsh of the theme and could
not do it. A whole holiday yesterday being
St. Mark. Only the Subwarden of the Seniors
at Prayers.*' This last is significant. So we
take our leave of naughty Master James PhiUp
Hewlett — "/, curre, little gown boy/* as dear
Thackeray says.

The first pioneer of musical feeling in
Oxford was JulHen, an aflfected, grimacing,
overdressed Frenchman, but a clever maestro,
whose briUiant band played the dance and
march music which set elderly heads and
bonnets wagging in imperfect time, and who
brought out excellent soloists. He often came
amongst us, and the men who heard Koenig
and Bichardson at his concerts themselves
took up the comet and the flute. Oppressive
practising a la Dick Swiveller prevailed ; but
the taste for music spread. It was found that
Thalberg and Madame Dulcken would fill the
Star Assembly Room ; that scientific and high-
priced Chamber Quartetts, by Blagrove, dem-
enti, and the Reinagles, brought to Wyatt's
room fit audiences though few. In 1844
came Hullah ; large classes working under him
in Merton College Hall, mature and unmusical
M.A.'s hammering away without much result
at the **From his low and grassy bed,*' which

CALLIOPE IN THE THIRTIES. 75

formed the Pons Asinomm of the Hullah
Manual. The practising soon died out; but
the real musicians took the hint. An Amateur
Society was formed, with W. E. Jelf of Ohrist-
church for its president, a young " gold tuft "
as secretary, a committee highly selected and
unprofessional ; and, with the help of Grim-
met's band, concerts were given twice a term,
at which men since famous made their dibut.
Murray, of Queen's, was there, who sang
afterwards with Louisa Pyne at the English
Opera; Thomson, the late Archbishop of
York, sounded his magnificent baritone, pub-
licly heard before only in the Boar's Head
anthem upon Christmas Day ; young Frederick
Ouseley improvised at the piano ; later on
came the present Sir Herbert Oakeley, a sKm
boyish figure, with a passion for Handel.
Musical talent was everywhere lying loose ;
it needed someone to combine it, and the
someone was Dr. Corfe, who succeeded Mar-
shall at the Christchurch organ. He formed
classes of amateurs for practice of classical
music, training them laboriously in his pic-
turesque old house Beam Hall, in Merton
Lane, until in 1847 they gave a public per-
formance of "Acis and Galatea,'' Corfe rolling
his rs, Staudigl-wise, in " O ruddier than the
cherry," Mrs. Corfe singing the exquisite
Galatea solos. This was followed by "The
Antigone," by "Alexander's Feast," and, more
daring still, by Beethoven's Mass in C. At

76 EEMIN1SGENGE8 OF OXFORD.

the opening of the new Magdalen School in
1850, an amateur choir, conducted by Blyth,
who had followed old Yickery at Magdalen,
performed, without instruments, a series of
pieces which would have done credit to the
Berlin Choir. Oxford had become musical.
Healthy development is apt to throw down
morbid outgrowths, manifested here in a
spurious but short-Uved influx of the so-called
" Gregorian "" music, a reversion to the modes
prevalent in Christian worship before the
discovery of counterpoint. The freak was
ecclesiological, not musical ; part of the general
putting back of clock hands which character-
ised the Church movement of the time. It
was adopted by some amongst the clergy as a
royal road to music, traversable without know-
ledge and without training ; was rejected as
an indefensible anachronism by musicians,
who noted the unsuitableness of the "tones"'
to English words, their inexpressive baldness
unless sung in unison by eighty or a hundred
voices, the intolerable impropriety of appending
to them harmonies for EngKsh Church per-
formance ; while Ouseley brought his vast
learning to pulverise the theory of their deri-
vation from the Jewish Temple service, pointing
out that the melodic intervals of Oriental
music could have borne no resemblance to
the Greek system of tones and semitones on
which were founded the chants of the ancient
Western Church.

CALLIOPE IN THE THIRTIES. 77

•

Whether, without its incipient musical
awakening, Oxford would have gone crazy
over Jenny lind in December, 1848, I cannot
say. She came as Stanley's guest, having
stayed with his father at the Palace when
she sang at Norwich. The Bishop, a Uttle
black figure, hopping about the Cathedral
aisles like Vincent Bourne's " Gomicida," was
known locaUy as the Crow ; and her visit
produced the epigram : —

Ornithologists ancient and modern attest
That the Cuckoo-bird visits the Nightingale''s nest,
But not Stanley's own Alderley Bird-book can show ^
That the Nightingale roosts in the nest of the Crow.

She sang in the Theatre, which was crowded
from area to roof ; here, as elsewhere, winning
every heart. That the sight of the interior
with its thousand black gowns shoidd have
impressed her to tears is perhaps a tradition
difficult of acceptance ; there were tears in
the hearts if not in the eyes of many amongst
her hearers. Great was the demand for her
autograph ; most good-naturedly she acceded
to it. One imdergraduate, who rushed iato
poetry and sent her his eflFusion, still retains
her answer — the verse from Brady and Tate :

Happy are they and only they,
Who from Thy judgments never stray,
Who know what's right, nor only so,
But also practise what they know —

* " A Familiar History of Birds," by the Eev. Edward Stanley,
Rector of Alderley, Cheshire (afterwards Bishop of Norwich).

78 BEMINISGENGES OF OXFORD.

with "In remembrance of Jenny lind," and
the date. On the day after the concert she
came, veiled and incognita, to New College
Chapel ; but the Sub- Warden, Stacpoole, near
whose stall she sate, detected her. It happened
that the Hall was lighted and its piano open
for the Thursday glee club practice ; Stacpoole,
after showing her the Chapel, cunningly brought
her on to see the Hall, by this time filled
with men, and unceremoniously asked if she
would sing. She looked surprised, but good-
naturedly consented ; bade the lady with her
axjcompany, and sang to us a cavatina from
Der Freyschiitz. I remember her, poising
herself like a fisherman about to throw a
casting-net, before she flung out her wonderful
trills. Many years afterwards I heard her
again in Max Miiller's drawing-room; the
old execution was there ; the nightingale
warble, the tinibre-argentin, was gone. She
told us that A. P. Stanley, who had no ear
and hated music, or at least was bored by
it, usually left the room when she warbled.
But hearing her one day sing " I know that
my Redeemer liveth," he told her she had given
him an idea of what people mean by music.
Only once before, he said, the same feeling had
come over him, when in front of the Palace at
Vienna he had heard a tattoo performed by
four hundred drummers ! So Eothen King-
lake, we are told, also tone-deaf, astray by
some mischance at a matinee musicaley and

CALLIOPE IN THE THIRTIES. 79

asked by the hostess what kind of music he
preferred, answered — ^"'I certainly have a pre-
ference ; it is for the drum/' One thinks too
of M. Jonrdaia's passion for la trompette
ma/rine. -^'h-^

Not till 1855 was music validly recognised
by the University ; that achievement was
reserved for Sir Frederick Ouseley. Sir Henry
Bishop died ; the appointment rested with
the Proctors, and through one of them, Holland
of New College, a good musician, it was con-
ferred on Ouseley. The necessary reforms
were two : that the degree should become a
reaUty, and that the Professor should not
only profess, but teach. Hitherto anyone
seeking the Mus.Doc. had only to inscribe
his name as a nominal member of some College,
send in an orchestral thesis, which was invari-
ably accepted, pay a band for its performance,
and take rank as an Oxford Doctor. Ouseley
iastituted a public examination by three com-
petent examiners in historical and critical
knowledge of music, and in elementary classics
and mathematics, demanding also from each
candidate a lengthy written composition to be
submitted to himself. The stringency of the
test was shown by the fact that in its early
application fifty per cent, of the candidates
failed, not a few of the plucks being a judgment
on "cribbed exercises," which his immense
knowledge enabled him to expose. I remem-
ber how the Professor, kindest-hearted of men.

80 BEMINI80EN0E8 OF OXFORD.

suffered in inflicting rejections. He was beset
by piteous, even tearful, appeals, or by fierce
expostulations ; had sometimes to escape into
a friend's bouse from imploring remonstrants
who chivied him in the streets ; but he kept
conscientiously to the line he had drawn, with
the result that in a few years' time the
Oxford Doctorate came to be estimated as it
had never been before. His lectures, somewhat
obscure and cramped in style, owed popularity
to the practical illustration of them on the
organ or piano by his friend Mr. Parratt,
and to the volunteer assistance of a well-
coached vocal and instrumental band. So at
last Queen Calliope came down from heaven
and made a home in Oxford. I am told
she abides there still ; that Ouseley's white
and crimson mantle fell upon a worthy Elisha,
whose advent to St. Paul's had been hailed
by the innocent quatrain :

St. Paul's had a loss
In Dr. T. Goss;
I'm sure it's a gainer
. In Dr. J. Stainer;

that by his promotion to the vacant Chair
Oxford was a gainer in her turn; that if Sir
Frederick Ouseley made music respectable in
the University, Sir John Stainer has made
it beloved. But this is recent historv: and
the Neleian sovereign old, though his confi-
dences to Patroclus were sometimes garrulous

CALLIOPE IN THE THIRTIES. 81

in their old-world reminiscence, never bored
that Homeric Man Friday by recapitulation
of contemporary events.

Plague on't, quoth Time to Thomajs Heame,
Whatever I forget, you learn.

Note. — A lady reading this chapter recognised her great-
grandfather in the recording chorister, Master James Philip
Hewlett. She tells me that he grew up to be Chaplain of New
College and Curate of St. Ebbe's, dying young. His brother
was the author of ''Peter Priggins,'* mentioned on page 84.

O

82

OHAPTEE yn.

TTNDERGIIADUATES IN THE THIETIEa.

The seedsman, Memory,
Sowed my deep-furrowed thought with many a Name,
Whose glory will not die. Tennyson.

An Old Diary — Oxford in the Thirties as depicted in Fiction — ^Ite
more Essential Aspects — Some Great Undergraduates — ^And a
Great Tutor — " Tom " Aciand — ^His Achievements at Oxford —
His Torrential Eloquence — ^The " Uniomachia " — Tom Brancker
— Solomon Caesar Malan — ^His Seventy Languages — Stanley —
Matthew Arnold — Clough — Thorold Rogers — ^A Kindly Action
— ^An Interchange of Amenities.

MANY years ago, with a coUector's mstinct,
I exhumed for sixpence a ragged manu-
script from the rubbish heap of a Barbican
bookstall. It was the diary of an old Rugbeian,
covering his residence at Oxford through 1830
and 1831. His name was Trevor Wheler, cadet
of a Warwickshire family Uvingin their ancient
manor-house at a village called Leamington
Hastings, and he came to Oxford by the
Regulator coach, going on to London when
the term was over on the box of the Royal
Defiance. A quiet, orderly fellow : he kept
morning chapel strictly, went always to St.
Mary's, where on one occasion he heard Keble
preach, and usually read a sermon in his own
rooms on Sunday night. He corresponds

UNDERGRADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. 83

with several female Christian names, and has
written Byron's stanzas on "Woman, lovely
woman"' in the first page of his journal, with
the date June 14th attached, evidently Com-
memoration Week. He gives frequent wine
parties, among the guests being Boundell and
WilUam Palmer and Kers Claughton, and
always carefully records the number of corks
he drew. He breakfaists with Tommy Short
of Trinity, who died not many years ago,
having been Newman's tutor, and for half
a century the most amusing of Oxford Dons.
He goes to New College Chapel, and to the
Tyrolese singers at the Music Boom. He
frequents the Union, where seven men are
blackballed in one evening, where Acland
senior is elected treasurer and Gladstone secre-
tary, and where debates are held on Jewish
disabilities, and on the superiority of Byron
to Shelley, Sunderland coming express from
Cambridge (with Arthur Hallam and Monckton
Milnes) to speak upon the latter theme.
(Sunderland, we may remember, was the con-
temporary of Tennyson, who described him
as " a very plausible, Parliament-like, self-satis-
fied speaker at the Union," and sketched him
mercilessly in the poem called "A Character."
His sad story is told in Sir Wemyss Beid's
delightful Life of Lord Houghton (Vol. I., p. 76).
He " sits " in the Little-Go school, and hears a
man construe spicea mrga a " spicy virgin." He
buy a the new edition of the Waverley Novels,

84 BEMINI8CENGE8 OF OXFORD.

and, attending Wise's sale-room, has a lot of
seventy books knocked down to him for £1 2s
The composition is neither incisive, eventful,
nor picturesque ; but it is interesting, not only
as all diaries are interesting by lifting the
curtain of a fellow-mortars mental privacy, but
as raising from the shades with contemporary
vividness the undergraduate Oxford of seventy
years ago.

We may read of this Oxford in forgotten
novels : its vulgar side in Hewlett's " Peter
Priggins " ; its rollicking side in Dickinson's
" Vincent Eden," pubUshed in Bentley's Mis-
cdlany, and abruptly ceasing through pressure
on the editor, it was believed, from apprehen-
sive University authorities. In "Loss and
Gain" we have its priggish side, due to the
author's teaching ; the picked men of ability
in its pages — Sheffield, Beding, Carlton — rang-
ing over not high themes of philosophy, science,
culture, but the nightmares of Tractarian
theology and the characteristics of a true
Church. Mere foils were men like these,
setting ojff the nobler Oxford of their time ;
and never in the history of the University has
a decade opened and progressed amid a group
so brilliant. In 1830 we have Gladstone,
Liddell, Charles Wordsworth, Hope, T. Acland,
Manning, Church, HaKord Vaughan, WiUiam
Adams, Walter Hamilton, Lords Dalhousie,
Elgin, Lincoln, Canning, to take names almost
at random. Nor was this dawn of golden

UNDERGRADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. S!>

times confined to Oxford ; at Cambridge in the
very same year gathered a not less rare group
of conjurati fr aires : Spedding, Thompson,
Brookfield, Trench, Tennyson, Monckton Mibies,
Charles. Buller, Meriyale, Arthur Hallam.
There is deep pathos in these sparkling cata-
logues. We see the band of friends, cheerful,
united, sanguine, starting together on life's path.
Pass sixty years, we check the Ust, to find a
scattered remnant of survivors, telling sadly
of havoc wrought in their train by the storms
of life, themselves too often aUenated at its
close. But the record of their deeds survives.
Outworn, disappointed, hostile, not one of
them lived in vain. The severances of party
and of creed are incidents of independent war-
fare ; but the soul that is fervent and heroic not
only fights its own way to perfection, but makes
ignoble sloth more odious, brings high aim
within the readier grasp of the generation
and , the men who follow it.

And 0, blithe breeze ! and O, great seas.

Though ne'er, that eariiest parting past,
On your wide plain they join again,

Together lead them home at last.
One port, methought, aUke they sought,

One purpose hold where'er they fare —
O, bounding breeze ! O, rushing seas !

At last, at last, unite them there !

First among the Oxford comrades of that
time,, juvenum pvblica cura, universal under-
graduate theme, ranked Charles Wordsworth ;

86 BEMINISCENGEa OF OXFORD.

tutor to Gladstone and Manning, Sir Francis
Doyle and Walter Hamilton, Acland, Hope,
Lords Lincoln and Canning ; the best scholar,
cricketer, oar, skater, racquet player, dancer,
pugihst, of his day. His proficiency in this
last branch of antique athletics was attested
by a fight at Harrow between himself and
Trench, which sent the future Archbishop to
a London dentist, in order to have his teeth
set to rights. "That man," whispered Lord
Malmesbury to Lord Derby, when Wordsworth
had shaken hands with the Chancellor on re-
ceiving his honorary degree, "that man might
have been anything he pleased.*' His attain-
ments and capacities were set off by an unusually
tall and handsome figure.

Gratior et pdchro veniens in corpore virtus.

His aunt, the Poet's wife, told me that' of
all the young men she had ever known he
was the most charming in manner, mind, and
person. He was beyond all his contemporaries
an adept in Greek and Latin versification ;
whatever of noble thought, of touching senti-
ment, of transient humour, gained access to his
mind, came draped in one or other of the
classic tongues. His grief at his wife's death
found expression in a perfect Latin couplet,
untranslated, untranslatable.^ A junior boy
whom he once found eating cake in " Meads "
at Winchester, artlessly offered him a piece,

^ Appendix K

CHARLES WORDSWORTH

TTNDEEGRADUATE8 IN THE THIRTIES. 87

which he accepted, sending to the boy next day
a pile of cakes and cream from the confectioner,
with the note,

(Requiting guerdon, cake for cake, receive);

and his very inscriptions in hotel books when
on a tour were Greek Iambics.^ His career
as Master in College at Winchester justified the
promise of his youth : he raised the scholar-
ship as well as the morality of the boys. His
Greek Grammar was accepted by every school
in England except Eton, which, preferring to
go wrong^ with Cato, clung to its old inferior
manual ; and he imparted to Winchester a
tone of unaffected, thoughtful piety which long
outlived his rule. At Gladstone's entreaty —
High Churchmen saw in the reviving Episcopal
Church of Scotland a happy hunting ground
for English Tractarianism— he undertook the
Headship of Glenalmond College, becoming soon
afterwards Bishop of St. Andrews. Through
no fault of his own he failed as Warden ; as
Bishop he did all that man could do, but the
post was not worthy of his powers ; and the
illustrious Oxford paragon ended, like his Swedish
namesake, amid the trivial surroundings of a
petty fortress and a barren strand. Having
been his pupil in early years, I reviewed his
Autobiography in a London Weekly. He was
pleased by my notice of him, sought my name,

^ Appendix F.

88 BEMimSOENGES OF OXFORD.

and we exchanged many letters lively with
memories of the past. The last I received
from him was a New Year Greeting, with clos-
ing invocation of muUos felices annos, ultimum
felicissimum. It was his own anniis ultimus ;
he died before the day came round again.

One more confederate in this tepa veon}?,
this sacred band of youthful brothers, let
me commemorate. Double First Class, when
Double Firsts meant much, Fellow of All Souls,
heir to beautiful Killerton with its mighty trap
rocks, forest scenery, wild ponies, and red deer,
**Tom" Acland, as everyone called him, was
heralded into public life by unusual expecta-
tions. He was in ParUament for a time, made
no great mark, married, early lost his wife,
threw himself heartbroken into agriculture,
under the tuition of his friend and relative
Philip Pusey. He came late to his inheritance,
for the Aclands are a longajval race, and old
Sir Thomas lived to a great age. The con-
trast between them was amusing ; the father
with manners regal in their measured gracious-
ness and pohsh, the son jerky and discursive
in talk, movement, ideas. "Tom thinks so
fast,'^ said a near relation, "that none of us
can keep up with him.'' During the Fifties it
was my lot to see a good deal of him in Oxford :
he used to walk with me in the streets, re-
calling his early life, the Newmania and its
influence on his mental growth, his association
with the "Young England '' movement, whose

UNDEBQBADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. 89

only surviving representative is, I believe, the
Duke of Rutland. Stopping opposite to St.
Mary Magdalen Churcli one day, lie told me
how he and Jacobson had taken there F. D.
Maurice, when an undergraduate, to be bap-
tised. He WM full at that time of the "Middle
Class Examinations,*^ which, with Canon Brereton,
he had initiated in Devonshire, and which
developed ultimately into the Oxford Local Ex-
aminations. To him especially, to his experi-
ence of West Buckland School, his patience,
wisdom, and enthusiasm, that great educational
experiment was due. I remember, too, that
we went together to Max Miiller's opening
lecture on Comparative Mythology ; he was
disturbed, fidgeted, bit his nails. " It frightens
one," he said. I was reading the * Odyssey '
with a pupil one day ; he came in, and I
handed him a book ; he listened for ten minutes,
then gave me back the volume, saying : " How
quickly one forgets ! but for the Latin trans-
lation at the foot I could not have followed " ;
going on to tell me how with Bunsen and
Philip Pusey he used to read Homer daily
through a winter in Eome, and imitating
Bunsen's Continental pronunciation of the
sonorous lines.

Li 1865 I gave evidence on School Teaching
of Science before the Schools Inquiry Com-
mission, of which he was a member. He
questioned me at great length as to examina-
tion methods, as to the machinery needful

90 IIEMINI8CENCE8 OF OXFORD.

%

for extending the local examination to the
public schools, a^s to the desirableness of a
Government Board of Higher Education, with a
special Minister at its head. He became some-
what iterative ; and the chairman, Ix)rd
Taunton, cut him short ; he rose with an
impatient gesture and went to the fire, but
said to me afterwards, "I kept my temper ."^
We travelled down to Oxford together; he
was in high spirits, having just re-entered
Parliament after twenty years of exile, and
poured forth optimistic talk. My sceptical inter-
jections grated on him once or twice ; he waff
uneasy, too, lest my science teaching should
overshadow the imaginative and reverential side
of the boy-mind. " Don't be too materiaUstic,*"
he shouted into my cab from the pavement,
as I dropped him at his brother's house in
Broad Street. Yet again I was to know him,
in his home at Killerton. He was now Sir
Thomas — a far abler man than his father in
all the higher requirements of a great country
gentleman's position, yet, somehow, never fill-
ing his father's place in local sentiment ; less
outwardly imposing, less captivating, suasive,
patriarchal. I saw him constantly ; he used
to drop in and talk on the winter afternoons.
He was not a man of reminiscences, nor did
his speech linger on scholarship and books ;
present problems, social chiefly and theological,
seemed to fill his mind. He would question
me repeatedly as to my ^own mental develop-

UNDERGRADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. 91

ment, wishing to trace the process by which
High Church bigotry in the green salad-days
changed into independent rationalism later
on. He was devoted to agriculture, of which I
had some experience, to allotments, to cottage
building in its sanitary, profitable, moral aspects
My microscope, which stood constantly in employ,
used to puzzle him — he always went to see
what new marvel I had got, with an ever-
renewed protest against the cult of the in-
finitely little.

He was not amoebsean in his talk ; it
sped forth torrential, and you had to listen ;
it fascinated for the first half-hour, then to
the hearer followed loss of sequence, logical
perplexity, swamped surrender, boredom, head-
ache, desperation. I once compared notes with
a kindred patient, who had the day before
dined with him tete-a-tete. He described the
eloquence, so genial in its opening, endurable
during dinner by manducative and bibulous
supports, by degrees assuming nightmare pro-
portions, tempered only with faith in inevitable
bedtime. That arrived, the good-nights were
spoken, the staircase reached ; and then, stimu-
lated by a fresh cestrus, the host began again,
and the evening closed with a long supple-
mentary harangue in the hall by the light of
the bedroom candlesticks. This habit made
him in society the terror of raconteurs, de-
manding as they do attentive auditors with
interlocution just enough to start successive

92 REMINI8GENGES OF OXFORD.

topics and give fresh chances to their wit. I
recall meeting at his table Mr. Massey, M.P.
for Tiverton, one of the brilliant London talkers
of the day. He led off at the opening of
dinner with a delicious anecdote of the notorious
Mrs. Thistlethwayte, but his incidental mention
of a certain other lady inspired Sir Thomas to
interrupt with a genealogical disquisition ; the
aroma of the story exhaled, and the narrator
looked depressed. He recovered himself, and
another good story was begun ; but when a
second time Sir Thomas cut in mal a propos
Mr. Massey collapsed and we heard no more
of him. And so in this and other ways it
came to pass that with all his great attainments
he was not a man with whom you ever felt at
ease. That he would be poUte and kind you
knew ; knew, too, that until submerged by
vocables, as Oarlyle said of Coleridge, you
would gain abiding knowledge from his
boundless stores ; yet everywhere in his talk
and temperament lurked sharp points on
which you feared to tread — the conversa-
tional smoothness was suppositus cineri doloso.
It used to be said that God made men, women,
and Aclands, and he lent full flavour to the
epigram. He gave one always the idea of a
superlatively good thing unkiudly impaired by
Fate. To his birth thronged the fairy god-
mother with gifts of intellect, fluency, loftiness
of standard, philanthropy of aim, generosity
of nature ; then came the malignant Uninvited,

UNDERGRADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. 93

with the marring supplement of position, for-
tune, ease, to annul the bracing, shaping
discipline which moulds the self-made man.
Covered with University distinctions. Fellow of
All Souls, rich in Parhamentary promise, pro-
tagonist in a great social and reUgious movement
— aU older men looked on at him expectantly
with a Ce g argon ira loin. But inherited wealth
absolved him from compulsory struggle, rank
and repute secured him unearned deference —
he was admirable, useful, honoured, loved ;
but he disproved the augury of greatness,
he failed to realise the promise heralded by
his splendid youth.

Faster than Homer's leaves the Under-
graduate generations pass. Three years, or
four at most, push them from their stools,
and a fresh succession enters on the stage.
In 1833 the " Uniomachia,'' Battle of the Union,
embalms another scarcely less remarkable relay.

I well knew Tom Brancker, who was be-
Ueved to be dux facti, originator of the social
war. Coming from Shrewsbury in jacket and
turn-down collars, he had, while still a school-
boy, though matriculated, beaten Gladstone
and Scott for the Ireland. Butler had sent
him up by Scott's advice, for the sake of
practice merely, but he came out scholar, sur-
passing his two great competitors, as Vowler
Short told them, in the points of taste and
terseness. He failed afterwards to get his

94 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

First, but became Fellow of Wadliam, and
dropped j finally into the lotos-eating of a College
incumbency. He was hated and dreaded as a
bully in the schools, but I always found him
kind and friendly. It was usual, as matter
of course and compUment, to re-elect each
year the committee of the Union ; but just
then wa^ the time of the Eeform Bill, the
outgoing committee was Tory ; and Brancker,
with Bob Lowe, Massie, and other zealous
Whigs, successfully opposed them, and were
elected in their place. The exiles formed an
opposition club called the Eambler, so popular
and successful that the new committee pro-
posed to expel its members from the Union.
In hope of lulling the storm, two St. Mary
Hall men, Jackson and Sinclair, produced the
" Uniomachia," a mock Homeric poem with a
dog-Latin Interpretatio and notes, and, in a
second edition, with an additional "Notularum
Spicilegium " by Bobert Scott, afterwards Master
of BaUiol. There followed an English trans-
lation from the pen of Archdeacon Giles, and
an "EmoUient and Sedative Draught" by
Lenient Lullaby, F.R.S., whom I have never
been able to identifv. The characters, besides
the three innovators, were Cardwell, W. G.
Ward, Roundell Palmer, Mayow, Tait, and
Charles Marriott. The fun fell upon the com-
batants Uke Virgil's pulveris exigui jactus on
the bees, and the hatchet was buried in a
reconciUation dinner at the Star. Of Marriott

UNDERGRADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. 95

I shall speak later on, as also of Mark Pattison,
who in these years, not yet disappointed,
melancholy, and vindictive, was struggling with
undigested reading, unawakened inteUigence,
morbid self-consciousness, progressing towards
that love of learning for learning's sake which,
agnostic, cynic, pessimist as he was, gave
unity to his sad, remonstrant life.

Contemporary with these was a genius per-
haps more remarkable, certainly more unusual,
than any of them. In 1833 Solomon Caesar
Malan matriculated at St. Edmund Hall, a young
man with a young wife, son to a Swiss Pastor,
speaking as yet broken EngUsh, but fluent
Latin, Romaic, French, Spanish, Italian, Ger-
man, and a proficient at twenty-two years old in
Hebrew, Arabic, Sanskrit. He won the Boden
and the Kennicott Scholarships, took a Second
Class, missing his First through the imper-
fection of his English, was ordained, became
Professor in Calcutta, gathered up Chinese,
Japanese, the various Indian, Malay, Persian
tongues, came home to the valuable living of
Broadwindsor, where he Uved, when not travel-
ling, through forty years, amassing a Ubrary
in more than seventy languages, the majority of
which he spoke with freedom, read familiarly,
wrote with a clearness and beautv rivalling
the best native caUgraphy. In his frequent
Eastern rambles he was able, say his fellow-
travellers, to chat in market and bazaar with
everyone whom he met. On a visit to the

96 REMINI80EN0E8 OF OXFORD.

Bishop of Innereth he preached a Georgian
sermon in the cathedral. He published twenty-
six translations of English theological works,
in Chinese and Japanese, Arabic and Syriac,
Armenian, Russian, Ethiopic, Coptic. Five-fold
outnumbering the fecundity of his royal name-
sake, he left behind him a collection of 16,000
Proverbs, taken from original Oriental texts,
each written in its native character and trans-
lated. So unique was the variety of his
Pentecostal attainments that experts could not
be found even to catalogue the four thousand
books which he presented, multa gemens, with
pathetic lamentation over their surrender, to
the Indian Institute at Oxford.

I encountered him at three periods of his life.
First as a young man at the evening parties of
John Hill, Vice-Principal of St. Edmund's Hall,
where prevailed tea and coffee, pietistic Low
Church talk, prayer and hymnody of portentous
length, yet palliated by the chance of sharing Bible
or hymn-book with one of the host's four charm-
ing daughters. Twenty years later I recall him
as a guest in Oxford Common Booms, laying
down the law on questions of Scriptural inter-
pretation, his abysmal fund of learning and his
dogmatic insistency floated by the rollicking
fun of his illustrations and their delightful
touches of travelled personal experience. Finally,
in his old age I spent a long summer day
with him in the Broadwindsor home, enjoying
his hbrary, aviary, workshop, drawings ; his

UNDERGRADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. 97

hospitality stimulated by the discovery that in
some of his favourite pursuits I was, longo
intervallo, an enthusiast like himself. He was
a benevolently autocratic vicar, controlling his
parish with patriarchally imperious rule, original,
racy, trenchant, in Sunday School and sermons.
It was his wont to take into the pulpit his
college cap, into which he had pasted a text of
Scripture which he always read to himself
before preaching. They were words from the
story of Balaam: "And the Lord opened the

mouth of the ass, and she said '' He died

at eighty-two, to have been admitted, let us
hope, in the unknown land to comradeship of
no ordinary brotherhood by spirits of every
nation, kindred, tongue ; to have found there,
ranged upon celestial shelves, the Platonic
archetypes of the priceless books which it tore
his mortal heart to leave.

Skip two or three more years, and we
come to a not less interesting student stratum,
to the period of Stanley, Matthew Arnold,
Clough. Think of them walking among the
Cunmor cowshps and the fritillaries of the
Eynsham river side, bathing in the abandoned
lasher, noting from Hinksey Hill on winter
afternoons the far-off hght of the windows in
Christchurch Hall, mounting to the Glanvil
elm, which yet stands out clear against the
flaming sunset sky. Imagine the talk, now
glad, now pensive, of their still illusioned

98 EEMINISGENOES OF OXFORD.

youth ; its poetry, speculation, criticism, Words-
wortliian insight into nature, vaUant optimism,
rare communion of highest and most sacred
thoughts ; — as one reads " Thyrsis '' and " The
Scholar Gypsy," airs from Paradise seem to
breathe around one, airs which only Oxford
coidd have inspired, only high natures such
as theirs could have exhaled. I heard Stanley
recite his " Gypsies '' in the Theatre in 1837 ;
the scene comes back to me as of yesterday —
the crowded area, the ladies in their enormous
bonnets ; handsome, stately Dr. Gilbert in the
Vice-Ohancellor's chair; the pale, shght, weak-
voiced, boyish figure in the rostrum ; the roar
of cheers which greeted him. Olough, too, I
knew ; read with him for half a year in his
tiny HolyweU lodging immediately after his
election to Oriel, worldng the first hour in the
morning, while he ate his frugal breakfast of
dry bread and chocolate. It was his happy
time, before his piping took a troubled sound ;
his six golden Oxford graduate years of plain
Uving and high thinking, of hopeful fight for
freedom, of the rapturous Long Vacations in
Wales, the Highlands, the EngUsh Lakes,
summed up immortally in his " Bothie.'* The
original edition in its blue cloth Ues before me
as I write, a present from his son. I have
noted in it the undergraduates represented, so
far as they are now recoverable.^ Side by side
with these men were Donkin, Lord Hobhouse,

* Appendix F.

UNDEEGBADUATES JiV THE THIRTIES. 99

Brodie, Henry Acland, young gentleman-com-
moner Ruskin ; little, white-haired, chernb-
faced Jowett ; James Eiddell, whose <f}6lv(o,
<f>dlv<o, <f>i\l<rT7f, Moberly used to quote as
the unsurpassable gem of all the Anthologies ;
and, perhaps a year or two earlier, "Jem''
Lonsdale, great in estimation rather than in
production as a scholar, the tales of his wit
and genius ephemeral and for the most part
lost. Let me give one specimen. Asked to
preach at Eton by his old tutor. Bishop Chap-
man, he sent this answer-
Cur imparem me cingis honoribus,
Me, triste Kgnum, me vetulum, pigro
Sermone, fundentemque tardo
Ore soporifemm papaver 1

Henry Furneaux, who was his colleague in the
Moderation Schools, used to speak of him as
the most winning of men from his extreme
simplicity and absence of all self-consciousness;
his scholarship not so much an acquirement as
an intuition, inherited probably from his father.
It was amongst the answers to a Paper set by
him that occurred the deUcious explanation of
the Lupercalia, ^ Lupercaha is the name of a
she-wolf that suckled Bomeo and JuUet.''
Biddell's quiet manner concealed a turn for
comedy. I once saw him in a charade act
with much humour the Parliamentary Can-
didate in the gentlemanly interest, opposing
Henry Wall, who was the demagogue. And

100 BEMINISOENGEa OF OXFORD.

one day at Zermatt, the party being bored by
a cockney who was destitute of Miss Catherine
Fanshawe's letter, and was afraid of losing his
'at on the mountain, Kiddell wrote in the
hotel book —

A gent who was late at Zermatt,
Dropped an H on the Hoch Taligat;

If he*ll fetch it away

He*ll find it some day
Of use in the front of his 'at.

The Forties were years of strife ; of Ward's
expulsion, Newman's perversion, Hampden's
challenged bishopric ; a time none the less of
great youthful names. Thorold Rogers I knew
shghtly as an undergraduate. He was then a
loud, dominating, rapid talker, deluging his
company with a shower-bath of Greek choruses,
not more regardful of the skins into which he
poured the wine of his erudition than was Tom
Jones when in company with Ensigns Norther-
ton and Adderley. He so frightened men, in
fact, that he could find no College to take
him as a Fellow. Altered and saddened by
his young wife's death, he plunged into politics
as a relief, obtained the Act of ParUament
which enabled him to resign his Orders, and
sate in the House of Commons till not long
before his death, valued there as a walking
dictionary, and always the centre of a laughing
group in the smoking-room or on the Terrace.
From this time I knew him closely ; we stood
together on many pohtical platforms, and I

UNDERGRADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. 101

pleased him by an appreciative review in The
Spectator of his book on Holland, which had
been coarsely attacked, as I thought, in TJie
Pall Mall. He was an unequalled story-teller ;
some men affect nonchalance in repeating a
good thing, but Rogers's face used to flash
and his eyes start out with contagious joy in a
clever saying. That football is the accomplish-
ment of a hippopotamus, that the Athanasian
Creed was an election squib — a saying Roger-
esque but justified, as readers of Foulkes's
investigation are aware — and his happy com-
parison of a serious, hairy-faced Birmingham
M.P. to a costive terrier, are amongst his
countless epigrams which occur to me. His
was the pun which disqualified Mundella
of the big nose, 6 fieyaXoppwoi;, as Chairman
of Conmiittees, because "when Mr. Mundella
was in the Chair the Noes woidd always have
it." Some proUx creature had told one day in
the House the ancient story of a miser swal-
lowing a guinea, from whose niggard mterior
an emetic persuaded him to refund only ten
and sixpence. Rogers seized a pencil, scribbled
and handed round the following :

X^cc yofiiKCQ deV axoKpvypufy tcaTejipdxOioi ipa^af^
icai fivtrSiiQ Odyaroy Upd^Xoe tBeiffe /Adpov,

yvy Zi fioyiQ ri\yp HapaKiXaov ^tjOey iarpov
firTfideiQ ofioXovQ eiKoaiy iii/jL€ff€y.

riiy le rpiwy fupiiiav yXitrxp^Q aweyofffiae livXyy
ayQpwfov yatrrifp^ rriv Zi KaretFj^ iiiay*

102 BEMimSGENGES OF OXFORD.

Translated in the manner of Swift :

Attorney Proclus, so they say,

SwaDowed ten drachmas *tother day.
He choked, he gasped; to ease his ill

Came Paracelse with purge and pill.
Seven coins the emetic spew obeyed —

Cries Proclus, "Curse your plundering trade!
Of my loved store three-fourths are gone;

So help you Plutus, leave me one ! "

When news came down to the Lobby of Lord
Derby's death, he wrote :

Reckless in speech, and truculent in face,
Geoffrey, the fourteenth Earl of Derby, died :

Only in this superior to his race,
He left the winning for the losing side.

Ke used to quote, as the cleverest retort ever
made, the answer of a notorious admiral to the
Duke of Clarence : " I hear, sir, that you are
the biggest blackguard in Portsmouth ! ^ — " I
hoi)e your Royal Highness has not come down
to take awav my character ! ^' I met him one
day laughing along Beaumont Street ; he had
just overheard a scout talking to a waiter at
the door of the Eandolph — " So he says to me,
his lordship says, ' You don't seem to think
much of them bishops/ * No, my lord, I don't,'
says I ; * I remember them aU coming up here
with pockmantles not worth five shillings, and
now they're as fat as Moses's kine/ " Beneath
his coarseness and profanity lay not only
political moraUty and ardent patriotism but
active kindness of heart. A clever girl at

UNDERGRADUATES IN THE THIRTIES. 103

Somerville had exhausted her fiinds after two
years^ residence and was about to leave. Rogers
heard of it, told the circumstances about the
House in his forcible wav till he had collected
£80, which he sent to the young lady, who
is now a successful and distinguished professor.
Of his hons mots the majority, perhaps, will not
bear repetition ; there was truth as well as
pungency in the saying which explained his
writing a book on Holland by the fact that
it is "a low country full of dams." When
Freeman came up to examine in the newly-
founded History school, he and Rogers, an
equally ursine pair, were maUciously brought
together at a dinner party. In compliment
to Rogers the host led the talk to poUtical
economy. " Political economy," said Freeman,
" seems to me to be so much garbage." " Gar-
bage is it ? " said Rogers ; " the very thing
then for a hog Uke you." Readers of Walter
Scott's note in Boswell (Vol. v., p. 114) will
recall the meeting between Adam Smith and
Dr. Johnson.

104

CHAPTER Vm.

MOEE ABOUT UNDERGEADUATES.

Prwteritos extollens, Recentiorum incuriosus.

Cicero.

Goldwin Smith — John Conington — Hayman and Rugby and More-
decay — ^Frank Buckland — J. G. Wood — ^His Many-sidedness
— The "Common Object" — Blaydes of Oxford and Calverley
of Cambridge — ^R. E. Bartlett — The Schoolboy and the
Queen— Walter Wren— The Great Henley Race of 1843:
" Septem contra Camum " — George Cox — " Black Growns and
Red Coats"— The Early Fifties— Harry Wilkins— Herbert
Coleridge — ^His Mother, Sara Coleridge — ^Tom Faussett of
Corpus— His Epigrams— His " Elegy "—Dress at Oxford Fifty
Years Ago and Now — ^Unathletic Oxford — The Supremacy of
the Spirit.

GOLDWIN SMITH—" vastiest Goldwin/' Eol-
leston always called him — towered above
Ms fellows as undergraduate and bachelor. We
all saw in him the coming man ; but he married,
settled in America, and never came. Oldse to
him was John Conington, whose extraordinary
visage, with its green-cheese hue, gleaming
spectacles, quivering protrusive lips, might be
encountered every day at 2 o'clock on his way
to a constitutional, which he would have liked,
he said, to conduct between tw^o high walls,
shutting out aU irrelevant topics such as sur-
roundings and scenery might suggest. He
ranked high in Oxford as a scholar of highest
character and industry, though the first
edition of his virgil was severely criticised, to

MORE ABOUT UNDERGRADUATES. 105

his great distress, by Mr. Munro; a lonely,
melancholy man out of harmony with the
yoTing athletes who were his pupils. From an
esprit and a Liberal he suddenly became Con-
servatiye and Puseyite ; died early, leaving a
profuse diary of his Oxford life, which his
executors thought it their duty to destroy
In the same class hst with Goldwin Smith and
Freeman, a Double Second where they were
Double Firsts, stood the name of Hayman, the
unfortunate ad interim Headmaster of Rugby.
I j&rst met him in our younger days on the
top of a Devonshire coach. I was quoting
Pope's "Character of Narcissa,*' and hesitated
for a word, which a voice behind me suppUed,
and its owner joined in our talk with spirit.
He was a pleasant feUow and a good scholar,
though what the waiter in the "Newcomes*'
would call a "harbitrary genf ; but his
election to Rugby was unfortunate for every-
body. Only a Hercules could have succeeded
an Atlas such as Temple ; and Hayman's in-
feriority in generalship, teaching, preaching,
capacity for work, at once armed against him
boys and masters. His forlorn position won
him public sympathy, but the numbers fell ;
it became clear even to the Philistines who
had appointed him that he must go —

When Rugby, spite of priest or layman,

Began to fall away,
The Gk)yemoTS suspended Hayman

For fear of More-decay.

106 REMINI80ENCE8 OF OXFORD,

The next year brings us to Frank Buckland.
Few men can now recall those unique break-
fasts at Frank's rooms in the corner of Fell's
Buildings; the host, in blue pea-jacket and
German student's cap, blowing blasts out of a
tremendous wooden horn ; the various pets
who made it diflScidt to speak or move ; the
marmots and the dove and the monkey and
the chameleon and the snakes and the guinea-
pigs ; the after-breakfast visits to the eagle or
the jackal or the pariah dog or Tiglath-pileser,
the bear, in the Uttle yard outside. The
undergraduate was father of the man. His
house in Albany Street became one of the
sights of London ; but to enter it presupposed
iron nerves and dura ilia. Introduced to some
five-and-twenty poor relations, free from shy-
ness, deeply interested in your dress and person^
you felt as if another flood were toward, and
the animals parading for admission to the
Ark. You remained to dine : but, as in his
father's house so in his own, the genius of
experiment, supreme in all departments, was
nowhere so active as at the dinner table.
Panther chops, rhinoceros pie, bison steaks, kan-
garoo ham, horse's tongue, elephant's trunk,
are recorded among his manifestations of
hospitaUty ; his brother-inJaw quotes from the
diary of a departing guest — " Tripe for dinner ;
don't Kke crocodile for breakfast."

Of the same standing — acquaintances I think
they were not — was J. G. Wood, the well-known

MOUE ABOUT UNDEBGBADUATES. 107

naturalist. He was a Bible clerk of Merton,
of the class typiJ&ed in Tom Brown's " Hardy,"
one of two pariahs compelled by chill penury
to accept the coarse munificence of the College,
who pricked Chapel attendance and said grace,
knowing no one, Kving alone, dining in Hall
alone on the remnants sent from the high
table. I used to go with him down the
river in the Long Vacation, with gun, fishing
rod, collecting net. He was a redoubtable
athlete, champion of the St. Clement's gym-
nasium ; for Maclaren's rooms were not then
built, though he had come lately to Oxford, suc-
ceeding little Angelo, who taught fencing to the
previous generation. Wood was skilled and
imperturbable at singlestick, and a first-rate
boxer. I saw him once put on the gloves
with Maclaren at Parsons' Pleasure when both
were stripped for a bathe, hitting Mac in the
face during the first round, and receiving the
good-natured professional's warm congratida-
tions. Large-boned and muscidar, he had a
small, facile, lady-Kke hand ; was a dexterous
anatomist, many of his dissections being still
in the Museum ; mounted skilfully for the
microscope, manufactured for himself electrical
and optical apparatus, took calotypes, as photo-
graphs were called before the collodion process
was invented, drew spirited caricatures. He
was not then, if ever, a scientific naturalist;
he picked up knowledge as he went on and
cleverly made the most of it ; and his authorship

108 EEMmiSGENCES OF OXFORD.

was due to accident. He was intimate
with Buckley, a Ghristcliiirch chaplain, who
did cribs for Eoutledge; the pubhsher asked
him to reconmiend a man who could produce
for moderate payment a popular work on
Natural History, and Buckley named Wood.
He accepted, and came to me for suggestions,
which I gave rather inventively. The bull
terrier " Crab " who figures in his first book
was mine ; some of his recorded feats, with
other surprising incidents, one in particidar
of a pointer standing at a pig, were, I fear,
not founded on fact. But the little book had
a great sale, was followed by " Common Objects
of the Country,*' and led to a long series of
more pretentious works. Wood was ordained
to the curacy of St. Thomas, then, under
•'Tom'* Chamberlain of Christchurch, the
most ritualistic of Oxford temples : in doubt
to the last moment whether he was to serve
under Chamberlain or under a Low Church
friend of Ben Symons, he bid the tailor leave
his clerical waistcoat uncompleted, that it might
be open or M.B. according to his rector's tenets.
He made no mark as a clergyman, his vocation
lay in writing and in lecturing. Plain in
features and rough in dress — men called him
the "Common Object" — and with a somewhat
indistinct voice, he was yet on the platform
extraordinarily popular, fascinating, by his anec-
dotic itch, a.s Peter Pindar calls it, and his
skill in blackboard drawing, not certainly

MORE ABOUT UNDERGRADUATES. 109

scientific or highly cultivated hearers, but the
half-educated intelligence of a middle-class or
schoolboy audience. He died suddenly while
at work, struck down on a lecturing tour.

I pass to a very different man, who came
up to Oxford as Blaydes in 1847, and left it
in 1849 to be better known as Oalverley at
Cambridge : his encounters with the little
"Master,** the stone thrown up at his library
window, the " Well, yellow-belly, how's Jinks ? "
the surmise at Collections that it might perhaps
be some time since the Master had read Longi-
nus, were long current in BaUiol. When one
of his escapades made it probable that the
authorities would invite him to adorn with his
liveliness the groves of some other Academe,
E. E. Bartlett, afterwards Fellow of Trinity,
wrote —

Oh, freshman, redolent of weed,
Oh, scholar, running fast to seed,
This maxim in thy meerschaum put-
The sharpest Blades will soonest cut.

He answered —

Your verse is tolerable; but

My case you understand ill ;

For though the Dons want Blades to cut,

They cannot find a handle.

Bartlett's, too, were the lines on Weatherby, a
fast scholar of Balliol, who was sent down for
being drunk in Quad, and prostrating the
porter who tried to get him to bed —

110 BEMINISGEH^GES OF OXFORD.

Why was his term, at first so short.

Cut prematurely shorter ?
The reason was, he floored the Port,

And then — he floored the Porter.

The catastrophe occurred in the " short '' three-
week summer term, which gives point to the
opening line. Conversing with an old Har-
rovian the other day, I asked what sort of
reputation Blaydes left behind him at the
school. Not, it appeared, for wit and verse-
writing, but as the o^ly boy who ever jumped
from the top to the bottom of the old school
steps. So Matthew Arnold's leap over the
Wadham railings used to be famihar to many
who had never read his books ; so a clever
boy named Selwyn earned immortality at
Winchester by jumping for a bet over "Nevy's
hedge" into the road far below. He broke
his leg, had been thought sure of the Queen's
gold medal for that year, locked from ink and
paper lost his chance. The young Queen
heard the story through his cousin, a maid
of honour, and sent him a gold watch, with
an inscription more precious than Wyon's shop
full of medals.

By the way, what becomes of old school
and college medals ? One rarely meets with
them ia after life. A greatly beloved London
preacher sold all his the other day that he
might subsidise a deserving institution ; and
Macaulay did the same through want of money
for himself in early struggling days ! My

MORE ABOUT UNDERGRADUATES. Ill

own, gold and silver, repose under a glass
case, and perhaps those who survive me may
value them.

Oalverley retained his saltatory power at
Cambridge. Professor Allbutt kindly writes to
me that one evening, in the presence of
himself, Walter Besant, and Wormald, then
stroke of the Christ's boat, he suddenlv
sprang Kke a skipjack off the floor of the
Christ's gatehouse porch, over the bar which
crossed (and still crosses) from the wall to
fasten one valve of the gate, aUghting safely
in the triangidar space within. The marvel
was not so much the height (37^ inches) as
the rise without a run and clean descent into
the narrow triangidar enclosure, free from
collision with door or wall : he must have
jumped straight upwards, clearing his feet
easily, and then dropping vertically downwards.
He possessed enormous thighs and large gluteal
muscles, enabling him to spring Kke a grass-
hopper. The Professor adds that Calverley was
the most indolent man of parts he ever knew ;
his reading casual and intermittent, but his
memory prodigious, with power of absorbing
from a book as though by some ethereal process
tbe matter demanded and assimilable by his
genius. His Cambridge life has lately lost an
honest chronicler in his great friend Walter
Wren, who boasted that he had answered all
the questions in the Calverley Pickwick Paper
except the " red-faced Nixon/'

112 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

More than once I have sat with Wren into the
small hours, listening to his reminiscences of his
friend's lampoons, epigrams, miracles of scholar-
ship and wit. Wren had often pressed him for
a scholarly tour de force ; caught him one wet
morning in his room, and seized his chance.
The " Excursion "' lay on a table ; Oalverley
handed it to his friend — "Bead me any five-
and-twenty lines." Wren did so. "Again,
more slowly." Then for ten or fifteen minutes
Oalverley sat with his head in his hands. " Now
write " ; and he dictated the translation in
fluent Virgihan hexameters. The remaining
story I cite with special pleasure as revealing
a very noble aspect of his many-faceted character.
He heard from a profligate acquaintance of a
country girl, turned out of home by her
parents for disobedience in some love affair,
come to seek service at Cambridge, not yet
ruined, but in a house where ruin was in-
evitable and imminent. He was reading for
the Craven, which he won ; to be seen bv
tutor or proctor in questionable company or
at a house of ill-repute would mean rustication
or exptdsion ; but he went to the place at
once, extricated the girl, took her with him
to the station, paid her fare, and sent her home
with an earnestly written letter to her father
which brought about a reconcihation, and
saved her. Clever as Blaydes in epigram and
pun, though not in sustained satire, was Arthur
Ridding, of New College, elder brother to the

MORE ABOUT UNDERGRADUATES. 113

present Bishop of Southwell. When everyone
was celebrating in Latin verse the Duke of
Wellington's funeral he was asked how to
render " lying in state .** " Splendide mendax,""
was the answer. At Winchester once during
a cricket match we passed on the "Tunbridge"
towpath a miserable horse, who with drooping
head, glassy eyes, protruding bones, was drag-
ging a heavy barge. ** To-irdO-os ^^ (Touypathr
'oss) was Bidding's comment.

I must not leave the Forties without a
reminiscence of the Henley race, the * Septem
contra Oamum,'' in 1843. It was the event
which really popularised boating at Oxford ;
the C5ollege races were before that year a mere
pleasant incident in a summer term ; there were
no College barges on the river ; even the Oxford
and Cambridge race, except in 1829, the first
race rowed, excited languid interest. I stopped on
Battersea Bridge one day in 1841 to watch' the
Oxford boat practising against a Thames crew ;
there was hardly anyone on the bank, where
to-day thousands would be running. It was, I
think, in 1842 that a new oar, Fletcher Menzies,
of University, arose, under whose training the
Oxford style was changed and pace improved,
with prospect of beating Cambridge, which
had for several years been victor; and the
'43 race at Henley between the two picked
crews of Oxford University and the Cambridge
Subscription Booms was anxiously expected as
a test. In the last week Menzies, the stroke.

114 BEMINI8CENGES OF OXFORD,

fell ill, and the " Booms " refused to allow a
substitute. The contest seemed at an end,
when someone — Boyds, of Brasenose, it was
said — proposed that the Oxford Seven should
pull against the Cambridge Eight. The auda-
cious gallantry of the idea took hold ; George
Hughes, of Oriel, brother to Tom Hughes, was
moved from seven to stroke, and his place
taken by the bow, Lowndes, of Ohristchurch.^
So, with the bow-oar unmanned, the race
began, the crew hopeless of more than a credit-
able defeat ; but as their boat held its own,
drew up, passed ahead, the excitement became
tremendous ; and when the Oxford flag fluttered
up, the men on the bank, as the guard said
of his leaders in "Nicholas Nickleby," went
mad with glory ; carried the rowers to the
Bed Lion, wildly raced the street, like horses
on the Oorso in a Boman carnival, tore up a
heavy toll-bar gate, and flung it over the
bridge into the river. The boat was moored
as a trophy in Ohristchurch meadow at the
point where Pactolus poured its foul stream
into the Isis, and was shown for twentv-four
years to admiring freshmen; until in 1867,
rotten and decayed, it was bought by jolly
Tom Bandall, mercer, alderman, scholar, its
sound parts fashioned into a chair, and pre-
sented as the President's throne to the tJniversitv
barge. One of the seven, John Oox, of Trinity,
who pulled six, is still aUve.

,^^ I ^ I give the names of the seven in Appendix iu.

MORE ABOUT UNDEBGBADUATES. 115

His elder brother, George Cox, of New Col-
lege, an extraordinarily brilliant man, died some
years earlier. Besides one or two coarse, clever,
very popidar songs, such as the " Oxford Fresh-
man *" and ''A Drop of Good Beer,"" he left behind
him a satire of unusual power, called "" Black
Gowns and Eed Coats,"" published in 1834.
It is now very scarce, its autlior so forgotten
that Mr. Hirst in the Cassell "life of Glad-
stone,"" quotes him as George Pox. He draws
a lurid picture ; proclaims the teaching barren,
the teachers sunk in crapidence and sloth,
the taught licentious, extravagant, idle. Of
the Dons only three are excepted from his
lash, the two Duncans and Macbride; of
recent undergraduates only one —

Yet on one form, whose ear can ne'er refuse

The Muse's tribute, for he loved the Muse,

Full many a fond expectant eye is bent,

Where Newark's towers are mirrored in the Trent.

Perchance ere long to shine in senates first.

His manhood echoing what his youth rehearsed.

Soon Gladstone's brows will bloom with greener hays

Than twine the chaplet of a minstrel's lays,

Nor heed, while poring o'er each graver Une,

The far faint music of a lute like mine.

There are passages of terrible force^ as in the
portrait of the profligate freshman ; memorable
photographs of contemporary follies, as in the
fast exquisite's career; echoes of conserratiye
alarm at the muttering thunder of reform ;
momentary lapses into prize poem jingle, redeemed

116 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

by abundant resonant epigram ; one special
episode, "A Simple Tale of Seduction," rising
very nearly to the bighest strain of poetry.
Was it a faithful portrait? No more than
was the " Oxford Spy,'' whose author, Shergold
Boone, hved to express his deep regret for
having written it. It generaUsed from a
single and a Umited side of Oxford life, as it
was said of Simeon StyUtes that he discerned
the hog in Nature and mistook Nature for
the hog. Amongst the Heads whom Ck)x
indiscriminately chastises were Routh, Gaisford,
Cramer, Jenkyns, Ingram, Hawkins, Hampden ;
his "untutored Tutors'' with their bloated
pedantry and screechowl throats numbered in
their ranks such men as Hussey, Newman,
the two Fabers, Robert Wilberforce, Vowler
Short, and Hurrell Froude ; his one blameless
junior was but primus inter pares of the
splendid youthful band sampled, and sampled
merely, in my last paper. We must bemoan
the untimely loss of genius so prodigal in its
shortened promise ; but, remembering his own
admission that the fingers were not always
c^ean which held the pen, we discount the
Censor's satire with the banished Duke's reply
to sneering Jaques —

For thou thyself hast been a libertine;
All the embossed sores and headed evils
That thou with Uoense of free foot hast caught,
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.

My undergraduate reminiscences must stop

MORE ABOUT UNDEBGBADUATE8 117

short with the early Fifties, at the line of
cleavage between the Old and New Oxford
Comedy. They include mad Harry Wilkins of
Merton, mannmitter of Daubeny's apes, who
once, an M.A. and Fellow of his College, iir
broad daylight and full term, led a mob oi
rowdy Christchurch undergraduates in a duck
hunt at the Long Bridges. He came up from
Harrow in 1840 with a Gregory Exhibition
and high scholarly repute, but with incipient
deafness, which increased as years went on. I
remember his examination in the Schools, his
inabiUty to hear questions, his cataclysmal
answers when they reached him. Probably his
deafness was calculated ; Liddell, one of the ex-
aminers, remarked that the way to make Mr.
Wilkins hear was to question him on subjects
which he knew ; but there was no doubt
about his First Class. He was an eloquent
talker, used to sit kicking his legs on a table,
pouring out to a crowd of Ksteners classically
poised sentences like extracts from a review.
His life's occupation was writing school-books,
by which he made large sums ; his unreaUsed
ambition was to Ijecome a nobleman's chaplain,
as the next best thing to being a nobleman :
'* Mv dear fellow, think what it would be to
be a Marquis — ^a Marquis ! my dear fellow.'' He
was a hon vivant, declined into a fat Phseacian,
abrogated his Orders, and latterly did nothing.

A very different man was Herbert Coleridge,
whose Double First in 1852 marked nearlv.

118 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

if not quite, the close of the old Great-Go
examinations. The most brilliant Etonian of
his day, Newcastle Scholar, and winning the
Balliol while stiU in the Sixth Form, he was
unappreciated in a school where athletic emi-
nence was the sole title to distinction ; at Oxford
he found and enjoyed a higher, more congenial
level. His richly endowed and beautiful mother,
Sara Coleridge, " last of the three, though
eldest born " in Wordsworth's Triad, theologian,
scholar, poetess, her father's spiritual child in
philosophy, learning, genius, yet feminine in
grace and sweetness, in domestic tenderness
and self-sacrifice, died just before his Class was
known. She had read with him, his Greek
books especially, throughout his school and
college career. He used to acknowledge, it
was said, that, while he beat her latterly in
trained scholarship, she was always his superior
in vigour of phrasing and in deUcate verbal
felicities. He never took his degree : by an
absurd rule then prevalent — now, I am told,
extinct — men taking the B.A. with £300 a
year of their own, ranked as "Grand Com-
pounders," and, bedizened in scarlet gown —
Cox's tidips they were called — paid £100 in
fees to old Valentine Cox, the Esquire Bedel ;
and this Coleridge woidd not do. He turned
his attention to Philology, inducing the Philo-
logical Society to announce a new Enghsh
dictionary on a vast scale, to be compiled with
aid from volunteers throughout the country.

MOBE ABOUT UNDEBQEADUATE8. 119

and edited by himself. I wm one of his
humble coadjutors, and preserve many letters
which he wrote to me as the work went on
With his death the enterprise fluttered broken-
winged and fell, to be revived in our own
time by Dr. Murray. He died in 1861, only
thirty years old. Throughout a prolonged and
distressing illness he laboured steadily and cheer-
fully; beside him at his death lay an un-
finished review of Dasent's " Burnt Njal/' which
had employed him almost to the last ; like
another heroic student, J. R. Green, "he died
learning.'* Eighteen months before the end it
was announced to him that recovery was hope-
lesg. "Then,'' said he, "I must begin Sanskrit
to-morrow."

One old acquaintance more shall close my
list, who, Uke the last, died, multis flebilis,
before his time, Tom Faussett of Corpus. He
held a close scholarship, confined to the county
of Oxford. There was only one candidate be-
sides, but as the senior boy at Winchester he
was formidable. I remember Faussett's glee
when his rival withdrew, preferring unwisely
to take his chance of New College. Unwisely
— because while New College was decadent.
Corpus was a rising College. Its President,
Norris, was a little, round, fat, oily man of God,
whose eye twinkled roguishly over a glass of
'34 port, and who was supposed to possess
unclerical knowledge of the world, and to have
run platers under a feigned name. Francis

120 BEMimSOENOES OF OXFORD.

Otter, one of the Fellows, who sate for the
Louth Division of Lincolnshire during the Short
ParUament, and who married the sister of
George Eliot's husband, Mr. Cross, once asked
him, as Burgon asked Routh, for a word of
wisdom which might be to him a maxim and
a guide in the change and chance of life. " I
will give you two such, my young friend,*^
said Norris. " First, never make an enemy ;
and secondly — never be drawn into a correspon-
dence.*' Amongst its scholars were Henry Fur-
neaux, learned Editor of Tacitus, brilliant
talker and anecdotist, who, to the deep grief
of many amongst us, passed away while Ihese
lines were in writing.^ There were also Philip
Sclater the ornithologist, who used at his
breakfast parties to open and explain drawers
full of stuffed birds ; poor Charles Blackstone,
winner of the Newdigate and eloquent speaker
at the Union, who was found dead in his
rooms from an accidentally self-inflicted pistol-
shot ; the younger Conington, Blaydes, brother
to Calverley. While at College Faussett was
dexterous in epigram and parody ; he be-
came afterwards an exceptionally skilful
writer of Latin poetry ; not the classical
poetry of Lord Wellesley and Charles Words-
worth, but the riming mediaeval verse, now

1 I have commemorated in my book on Winchester (" Win-
chester Fifty Years Ago," pp. 97-8) his miraculous memory as
a schoolboy; not a few of the jeux d' esprit in this volume I
referred to him for confirmation and correction.^

MORE ABOUT UNDEBOEADUATES. 121

secxilar and humorous, now devotional, of
Walter de Mapes or of the Paris Breviary. He
was an unrivalled punster : his was the quat-
rain in Punch at which all England laughed,
when in the Ashantee war King Coffee Calcalli
fled from his burning capital —

Coomassie's town is burnt to dust,

The King, escaped is he :
So Ash-and-CofFee now remain

Of what was Ash-an-tee.

It is not so easy to pun in Latin ; but that
too he habitually achieved. In some lines sent
to Dean Alford at a time when stormy winds
did blow he interjects the comment —

Contra venti sunt brumales

(Audin* quanta vox ei 1 ),
Si non CBquinoctiales

Saltern ceque noxii.

An accomplished lawyer and antiquary, he
lived and died at Canterbury as Auditor to
the Dean and Chapter ; died at the early age
of forty-eight. While he was an undergraduate
I had heard someone recite from a topical
imitation of Gray's ** Elegy,'' which he ascribed
to Faussett. The lines kept a hold on me,
and ten years afterwards, meeting him in
Oxford, I asked him for them. *" I don't think
a copy is extant," he said with astonishment.
" I never even knew that F. had heard of them ;
but that they should have reached you and
remained in your memory is to me wonderful."

122 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

He recalled and sent me the lines; I reproduce
them from his handwriting. It was a letter,
written to an absentee comrade at the close
of term.

Collections o'er — ^the knell of closing term.
The lower herd speed off with eager glee,

The Dons too homeward trail their steps sedate,
And leave the College to the scouts and me.

Now fades the last portmanteau on my view.
And o'er the Quad a solemn stillness looms;

Save where young Furneaux coaching still resides,
And mumbUng pupils throng his distant rooms :

Save that from yonder gloom-encircled lodge,
The porter's boy doth to the porter moan

Of such as issuing from the ancient gate
Forget the usual terminal half-crown.

Within that number two, that one pair left.
Where heaves the wall with countless gold-framed views,

AU in his snug armchair in silence set.
Tour humble correspondent takes his snooze.

The husky voice of dream-dissolving scout,
The porter, summoning to the Dean's stern frown.

The bell's shnll tocsin and the echoing dock
No more disturb him from his morning's down.

For him no more the social breakfast waits,
Nor smiling Sankey boils the midnight brew.

No mirthful Wadham scatters cheer around.
No Blaydes applauds the long-divided crew.

Oft did "blue-devils" 'neath their influence fly,
Their laughter oft his stubborn moods dispelled.

How jovial did they chaff the term away.
How the Quad echoed as their sides they held!

MORE ABOUT UNDERGRADUATES. 123

Ah ! let not Ghristchurch mock their simple life.
Their homelier joys and less expensive cares.

Nor Merton gaze with a disdainful smile
On fun too intellectual to be theirs.

The glare of bran new pinks, the pomp of teams.
The tuft-hunter's success, the gambler's luck,

Alike upon a sUppery basis stand ;
A course too rapid endeth in a " muck."

Nor you, ye swells, impute to us a fault
In fame and memory if to you we yield.

If ours no vulpine brush, no argent vase,
Proclaim us victors of the flood and field.

Can storied urns of animated " busts "^
Bribe back the mucker which has once been nm *"

Can knocker wrenched allay proctorial ire,
Or tails of vermin soothe a clamorous dun 1

Yet know in this our quiet spot have lived

Hearts close united by affection's tie,
Wit that might shine in Courts as well as Quads,

And social virtues with which few can vie.

Their names, their deeds, writ in tradition's page.
Shall sound eternised by her Muse's lyr^^

Freshmen to come the fond record shall trace,
Rejoice in youth, like them, Uke them in age aspire.

To close this chapter of retrospect, let me
set down the mam differences which to an
old man surveying modem Oxford point the
contrast between then and now. The first
lies in the category of dress, whose strict un-
written ndes were in the Thirties penally

^ Bust — slang for a breakdown in character and career ;
synonymous with " mucker," then first coming into use.

124 EEM1NISGENGE8 OF OXFORD.

enforced and nniversallv observed. Men wore,
not carried, their academicals in the streets ;
the Commoner's gown, now shrunk to an ugly
tippet, floated long and seemly, a sweet robe
of durance. Even to cricket and to the boats
black coats and beaver hats were worn, with
change and re-change upon the spot ; a blazer
in the High Street would have drawn a mob.
A frock or tail coat was correct in Hall ; in
some Colleges even a cut-away, as it was called,
provoking a sconce or fine. A clever group
of undergraduates in the Forties who presumed
to dress carelessly — Irving, son to the famous
preacher, Henry Kingsley, who ranked as one
of the three ugliest men in Oxford^ — and some
three or four besides, incurred universal obloquy,
and were known as the intellectual bargees.
Nowadays the garments of a gentleman are
reserved, as high school girls tell me that they
keep their Longfellow, for Sundays ; while
men pulling ladies on the river go near to
earn the epithet suggested by Jonathan Old-
buck for his nephew Hector's Fenians, through
the frank emergence from amputated trousers
(Calverley's crurum non enarrahile tegmen) of
what Clough's Bothie calls their lily-white
thighs. Even a more potent factor in Ilniver-
sity change is the development of athleticism.

^ I shall not give the names of the other two Calibans. One
having curly teeth, was known as Curius Dentatus ; the extra-
ordinary visage of the other was hit off by the inspired nickname
" The Exasperated Oyster."

MORE ABOUT UNDEBGBADUATE8. 125

At that time there was no football and no
" sports '* ; only one cricket field, the " Mag-
dalen ground," at the Oxford end of Cowley
marsh. Comparatively few men boated ; out-
riggers, diQghies, canoes, apolaustic punts were
unknown. Eich men huntied, followed the
drag, jumped horses over hurdles on BuUingdon
Green, drove tandem. This last was more
common than to-day : from West's, ToUitt's,
Figg's, Seckham's stables the leader was trotted
out a mile or so to await an innocent-looking
gig, taken off again on the return so as to
outwit the Proctor. When Osborne Gordon
was Proproctor, he took his chief in a fly one
night to the edge of Bagley Wood, made the
driver unfasten the horse and push the fly
into a ditch. -The expected tandem came —
pulled up — "Can we help you?" said the
Jehu dismounting, when out stepped the velvet
sleeves with "Your name and College." The
plant was complete ; but Gordon had made the
Proctor promise amnesty, and the men were
unmolested.

These were amusements of the wealthy;
the great mass of men, whose incomes yielded
no margin for equestrianism, took their exercies
in daily walks — ^the words "constitutional" and
•grind" not yet invented. At two o'clock,
in pairs or threes, the whole University poured
forth for an eight or ten miles' toe and heel
on the Iffley, Headington, Abingdon, Woodstock
roads, returning to five o'clock dinner. The

126 REMimSOENOES OF OXFORD.

restriction told undoubtedly in favour of intel-
lectnal life. The thought devoted now to
matches and events and high jxunps and bikes
moved then on loftier planes; in onr walks,
no less than in our rooms, then, not as now,

We glanced from theme to theme,
Discussed the books to love and hate,
Or touched the changes of the State,

Or threaded some Socratic dream.

There once we held debate, a band
Of youthful friends, on mind, and art,
And labour, and the changing mart,

And all the framework of the land«

Only I fear in iinathletic days was possible
the affluent talk of a Tennyson and Hallam
on the Cam, on the Isis of a Whately and a
Copleston, a Newman and a Pronde, a Congreve
and Mark Pattison, Stanley and Jowett, Clongh
and Matthew Arnold — brain as against muscle,
spirit as against flesh, the man as against the
animal, the higher as against the lower life.

127

CHAPTER IX.

SITMAfA PAPAVERUM CAPITA.
CHRISTCHTJRCH.

See unfading in honours, immortal in years,
The great Mother of Churchmen and Tories appears.

New Oxford Sausaqb.

"Presence of Mind" Smith — "Planting Peckwater" — Gaisford —
His Achievements as a Scholar — His ifrusquerie — Helen Douglas
— " Brigadier " Barnes — Dr. Jelf — Pusey — A Veiled Prophet — His
Mother, Lady Lucy Pusey — Pusey's Personal Characteristics—
His Brother the Agriculturist — Hoots, Esculent and Hebrew —
A Religious Vivisector— How Pusey got his Hebrew Professor-
ship — My Relations with him — ^The Sacrificial Lamb — ^Attitude
towards Biblical Criticism and Free Thought — His Sermons
— Dicta — ^The Year 1855 — Other Chronicles of Christchurch —
liddell — His Greatness— Max Miiller — Ouseley — Thd Jelf Row
—The Thunny— Lewis Carroll— His Girl Play-fellows— Why
his Friendships with them Ended— A Personality Apart.

OF men, no less than plants, the uj^owth
and stature are unequal. The tallest ears
in Thrasybulus' cornfield, the proudest poppies
in Tarquin's garden, were, to use the metaphor
of Prospero, " trashed for overtopping ^ ; and
so, inter silvas Academi, some men stand out
conspicuous to the backward glance of memory
above the haze which shrouds the lower levels
of the generations past, claiming to be "taken
oil" in milder sense than by the enigmatic
aruelty of the Grecian or Etruscan tyrant.
Let me embalm in fragmentary guise some

128 EEMimSCENGES OF OXFORD.

relics of the wit and wisdom of those once
laurelled now half-forgotten heroes.

In the august procession of Colleges Christ-
church leads the way. Its Dean at the
opening of the Thirties — /cal yap en ^v ^v —
was " Presence-of-Mind " Smith. Tradition ex-
plained the name. Going down to Nuneham
with a friend in his undergraduate days, he

returned alone. "Where is T ? Well, we

had an accident : the boat leaked, and while

we were bailing it T fell over into the

river. He caught hold of the skiff and pulled
it down to the water's edge. Neither of us
could swim ; and if I had not with great
presence of mind hit him on the head with
the boathook both would have been drowned."
His daughter Cecilia was engaged (and after-
wards married) to Richard Harington of Brase-
nose. Harington was Proctor, and with the
young lady and her party attended a concert
at the Star. Behind them sat some Christ-
church men, who amused themselves by re-
moving with a sharp knife the " penwiper,''
of no utility and of uncertain origin, worn
by noblemen and proctors. What was to be
done with the trophy? They hurried home,
pinned the penwiper to the Dean's door, and
retired into the obscurity of the adjacent arch-
way. Tom Gate opened, the carriage drove to
the steps, the party ascended to the door. A
hand stretched to ring the bell was arrested
by the novel ornament ; it was taken down and

8UMMA PAPAVERUM CAPITA, 129

handed round. "Why, it is Dick's pen-
wiper,*" said Miss Ceciha's voice, as she fingered
the ba<5k-piece of her lover's toga ; and a chorus
of Samsonic laughter was heard retiring up to
Peckwater.

Peckwater enriched the Oxford vocabulary
with a proverb in the reign of Smith's successor,
Gaisford. During one of his periodical quarrels
with the men, some of them scaled his garden
wall in the night, dug up a quantity of shrubs,
and planted them in Peckwater, which was found
next morning verdant with unwonted boskage ;
and for many years " planting Peckwater " was
synonymous with a Christchurch row. Gaisford
became Dean unexpectedly ; the men came up
in October, 1831, to find his grim person in
Smith's vacated stall. For certain reasons
Smith was uneasy at Oxford, while Gaisford
longed to return to it from Durham. So in
some occult fashion Bishop Van Mildert, whose
niece was Gaisford's wife, effected an exchange ;
Gaisford came to the deanery. Smith subsided
into the golden canonry of Durham ; his por-
trait hangs in the castle. Gaisford was no
divine ; he preached annually in the cathedral
on Christmas Day, and a sentence from one
of his sermons reverberated into term-time.

Nor can I do better, in conclusion, than impress upon you
the study of Greek literature, which not only elevates above
the vulgar herd, but leads not infrequently to positions of con-
siderable emolument.

He was a rough and surly man ; had owed his
J

130 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

rise origmally to Cyril Jackson, who discovered
the genius of the obscure freshman, gave him
a Ohristchurch studentship, and watched over
him. " You will never be a gentleman,'" said the
" Great Dean "' to his protege with lordly candour,
" but you may succeed with certainty as a scholar.
Take some little known Greek author, and throw
your knowledge into editing it : that will found
your reputation." Gaisford selected the great
work on Greek metres of the Alexandrian
grammarian Hephsestion, annotated it with
marvellous erudition, and became at once a
classical authority. In 1811 Lord Liverpool,
with a highly complimentary letter, offered him
the Professorship of Greek : he replied — " My
Lord, I have received your letter and accede
to its contents. Yours, etc." The gaucherie
came to Cyril Jackson's ears ; he sent for
Gaisford, dictated a proper acknowledgment,
and made him send it to the Prime Minister
with a handsomely bound copy of his Hephse-
stion. He never lectured ; but the higher
Oxford scholarship gained world-wide lustre
from his productions. His Suidas and Ety-
mologicon Magnum are glorified in Scott's
Homerics on the strife between Wellington's
and Peel's supporters for the Chancellorship.

'AhX otroi eic Kadidpriv ?rep2 'B6afropov ijyepiOot^o

iip^iaut KpiTiKuty' aircp oh ^uo y &ydpe i^iirQai
rXauy &TapfxvkTOi*n irpoawiraffi, triifjtaTa Xvypa,
oioi %*\fv ^pOToi ccff** 6 di fjLiv pia vdWe Koi oJoq.

8UMMA PAPAVERUM CAPITA. 131

In a facetious record of the Hebdomadal
Board Meeting in 1851 to protest against
University Reform, he is quoted as professing
that he found no relaxation so pleasant on a
warm afternoon as to he on a sofa with a
Suidas in one's arms. These Lexica, with his
Herodotus, won cordial respect from German
scholars, who had formed their estimate of
Oxford from third-rate performances like Dr.
Shaw's "Apollonius Rhodius/' George Gaisford
used to relate how, going with his father to
call on Dindorf at Leipsic, the door was opened
by a shabby man whom they took to be the
famulus, but who on the announcement of
Gaisford's name rushed into his arms and
kissed him. Poor Shaw's merits, on the other
hand, they appraised with contumely. The
" Apollonius " was re-edited, I think, by Bockh,
whose volume was eagerly scanned by Shaw
in hopes of some complimentary recognition.
At last he found cited one of his criticisms
with the appended comment " Putide Shcmus " .'
Gaisford was an unamiable Head, less than cor-
dial to the Tutors, and speaking roughly to
his Uttle boys. He had a liking for old Han-
cock, the porter at Canterbury Gate, with
whom he often paused to joke, and whom he
called the Archbishop of Canterbury. Hancock
once presumed so far as to invite the Decanal
party under that name to tea : I do not
think they condescended to inmiure themselves
in those unwholesome subterranean rooms of

132 BEMINI8GEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

his. The story of the Dean of Oriers com-
pliments to the Dean of Christchnrch is true
in part. The Dean Minor is supposed to have
been either Ghase or Eden ; not Burgon,
though he was just the man for it : the Dean's
remark, not written but spoken to his neigh-
bour, was, " Oh ! yes — ^Alexander the Copper-
smith to Alexander the Great. "* Equally confused
is the tradition of his daughter's suitor. It
runs that Jelf proposed to Miss Gaisford, who
refused him; that Gaisford urged his deserts,
as of a scholar knowing more about ye than
any man in Oxford : — that the young lady
answered it might be so, but she herself knew
too much about fikv to accept him. Those
who knew Gaisford will doubt if his respect
for Greek would overbear his indignation that a
mere Tutor should cast eyes upon his daughter ;
those who knew Osborne Gordon will give a
tolerable guess at the origin of the story. A story
indeed there was ; of love strong as death, of brave
and patient constancy, of bright too brief fruition,
not to be profaned by mention here. Est et fdeli
tuta silentio merces. I am growing tragic, and, as
Wordsworth sings, the moving accident is not
my trade. Let me end off old Gaisford's ceno-
taph with Knes composed, it was believed, by
Henry Cotton, afterwards Archdeacon of Cashel,
who assumed certataly in conceiving them the
sock rather than the buskin, when Gaisford,
unloverlike, slovenly, blfiick-a-vised, wooed and
won his first wife, the beautiful Helen Douglas : —

8UMMA PAPAVEBUM CAPITA. 133

Here's to the maid who so graceful advances;

'lis fair Helen Douglas, if right I divine.
Cupid, thou classical god of soft glances,
Teach me to ogle and make the n3nnph mine.
Look on a Tutor true,
Helen, for love of you,
Just metamorphosed from blacksmith to beau —
Hair combed and breeches new,
Love has changed Koderick Dhu,
While every gownsman cries, wondering, " Oho ! "

In Greek, I beUeve, I must utter my passion,

For Greek's more famiUar than English to me;
And B3n*on of late has brought Greek into fashion.
There's some in his "Fair Maid of Athens" — diet's see.

But this vile modern Greek

Never will do to speak ;
Let me try — 7>utff ftov irac hyavia — 1
Pshaw ! I don't Uke the tone ;
Let me now try my own —
icXv6i ixtv '£\evi|, trov yap kpia.

But here comes a handsome young spark whom I plucked once.

Perhaps he'll make love to her out of mere spite;
Aye, touch thy cap and be proud of thy luck, dunce.
But Greek will go farther than grins, if I'm right.
By Dis the infernal god,
See, see — ^they smile — ^they nod —
a fioi ^vffTfiyoc — ta raXac tyit.

Oh ! should my faithless flame
Love this young Malcolm Gr»me,

"Ororoi roTOToi ^rii icdiroi ut.

Thank heavenr! there's one I don't see much about her,

'Tis her townsman, the Tutor of Oriel, Fitz-James;
For though of the two I am somewhat the stouter.
His legs are far neater, and older his claims.
Yet every Christchurch blade
Says I have won the maid ;

134 EEMINI8GENGES OF OXFORD.

Every one, Dean and Don, swears it is So.

Honest Uoyd, blunt and bluff,

Levett and Goodenough,
All clap my back and cry "Roderick's her beau."

Come then, your influence propitious be shedding,

Ye Gnomes of Greek metres, since crowned are my^hopes ;
Waltz in Trochaic time, waltz at my wedding.
Nymphs who preside over accent and tropes.

Scourge of false quantities.

Ghost of Hephsestion, rise !
Haply to this my success I may owe;

Come sound the Doric string.

Let us in concert sing,
Joy to Hephsestion — ^Black Roderick, and Co.

Gaisford's senior Canon was "Brigadier"
Barnes, a name persistent to the end of his
long life because he had borne it in the Oxford
Volunteer Corps of 1803. To him was always
attributed what is I suppose the archetype
of leading questions, launched at a flounder-
ing youth in a Homer examination — " Who
dragged whom how many times round the
walls of what?'' All the Canons, except Pusey,
were more or less nepotist in their nomination
to Studentships — ^it was to Pusey that the
historian " Sam " Gardiner, as we always called
him, owed his appointment in 1849 — but none
of them came up to Barnes. "I don't know
what we're coming to ! I've given student-
ships to my sons, and to my nephews, and to
my nephews' children, and there are no more
of my family left. I shall have to give them
by merit one of these days ! " I knew him as

8UMMA PAPAVEBUM CAPITA, 135

a large, red-faced, kindly, very deaf old gentle-
man, with three pleasant daughters, who gave
evening parties. To one of these came upon
a time Mrs. and the Miss Lloyds, widow and
daughters of Bagot's predecessor in the Oxford
See. The youngest girl had engaged herself
to Sanctuary, an undergraduate of Exeter.
The mother frowned on the attachment ; the
sisters favoured it. Sanctuary's rooms in
Exeter commanded the Lloyds' dwelling, which
was next door to Kettel Hall ; and so it came
to pass that when mamma went out, a canary
was hung outside the drawing-room window,
and the young gentleman walked across. Old
Barnes had imbibed from his daughters some
hazy notion of the liaison, and greeted the
pretty rebel, of whom he was very fond, with
a loud "How do you do, dear Miss Isabella,
and how is Mr. Tabernacle?''

Another Canon meriting record was Dr. Jelf .
He was also Principal of King's College, London,
and therein instrumental in expelling F. D.
Maurice from his Professorship, 6ts a tribute to the
majesty of everlasting fire. He had been tutor
to the blind King of Hanover, whose full-length
portrait in oils adorned the drawing-room, and
he had married a Hanoverian, a highly accom-
plished Countess SchUppenbach. Her presence,
and that of two young musical daughters,
made his house exceedingly attractive during
his canonical residence. I remember taking
the tenor part with the young ladies in Men-

136 REMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

delssohn's Quartetts, while Thomsoii, afterwards
Archbishop, sang the bass. I recall too a
dinner party one day when I championed
Johnson's "Bambler" against general disparage-
ment, until from the head of the table Jelf
interposed, thanked me for what I had said,
and told us that at a critical period in his
own life he had owed very much to certain
Papers in the "Bambler."

Of Buckland and of Bull I have spoken ;
there remains Pusey. In those days he was
a Veiled Prophet, always a recluse, and after
his wife's death, in 1839, invisible except when
preaching. He increased as Newman decreased ;
the name " Puseyite '' took the place of " New-
manite.*' As; mystagogue, as persecuted, as
prophet, he appealed to the romantic, the
generous, the receptive natures ; no sermons
attracted undergraduates as did his. I can
see him passing to the pulpit through the
crowds which overflowed the shabby, incon-
venient, unrestored cathedral, the pale, ascetic,
furrowed face, clouded and dusky always as
with suggestions of a blunt or half-used razor,
the bowed grizzled head, the drop into the
pulpit out of sight until the hymn was over,
then the harsh, unmodulated voice, the high-
pitched devotional patristicism, the dogmas,
obvious or novel, not so much ambassadorial
as from a man inhabiting his message ; now
and then the search-light thrown with startling
vividness on the secrets hidden in many a

PUSEV. FROM *

8UMMA PAPAVEBUM CAPITA. 137

hearer's heart. Some came once from mere
curiosity and not again, some felt repulsion,
some went away alarmed, impressed, trans-
formed. It was in the beginning of the
Fifties that I first came to know him well,
sometimes in his brother's house at Pusey,
sometimes in his own. His mother, too, I
knew. Lady Lucy Pusey, a dame of more than
ninety years, preserving the picturesque dress
and sweet though formal manners of Richardson's
Cedar Parlour. She remembered driving under
Temple Bar with her mother as a Httle girl,
and being told to look up and see the last
traitor's head still mouldering on its spike.
She would tell me stories of her school, where
the girls sat daily in a horrible machine con-
structed to Procrusteanize a long and graceful
neck by drawing up the head and chin ; of
her wedding introduction to Queen Charlotte's
drawing-room, borne in her sedan chair by
brown-coated " Johnnies " and attended by run-
ning footmen with silk coats and wax flambeaux ;
of the "reverend gentleman" from Oxford who
rode over to Pusey each Sunday morning in
boots and cords, read prayers in the little
church, dined in the servcmts' hall, and carried
his ministrations and his boots to two other
parishes for the afternoon. She used old-
fashioned pronunciations, such as t'other, 'ooman,
'em for them. " Green tea poisonous ? look at
me. I'm an old 'ooman of ninety-two, and
I've drunk strong green tea ;_all my life ! "

138 EEMINISGENOES OF OXFORD.

She loved to talk of Edward, as she caUed
her famous son, relating how, when he gained
his First Class and his father begged hJTn to
claim some valuable commemorative present, he
asked for a complete set of the Fathers ; and
how in the Long Vacation he used to carry
his foHos to a shady comer in the garden
which she pointed out, and sit there reading
with a tub of cold water close at hand, into
which he plunged his head whenever study
made it ache. She died, I think, in 1858;
her sedan chair, in which she regularly went
to church on Sunday from her house in Grosvenor
Square, and which attracted always a Uttle
crowd of onlookers, was probably the last used
in England.

Two things impressed me when I first saw
Dr. Pusey close : his exceeding slovenliness of
person ; buttonless boots, necktie limp, inton-
sum mentum, unbrushed coat collar, grey hair
"all-to-ruffled"; and the almost artificial sweet-
ness of his smile, contrasting as it did with
the somlwre gloom of his face when in repose.
He Kved the Ufe of a godly eremite; reading
no newspapers, he was unacquainted with the
commonest names and occurrences ; and was
looked upon with much alarm in the Berkshire
neighbourhood, where an old lady, much
respected a^ " a deadly one for prophecy," had
identified him with one of the three frogs
which were to come out of the dragon's mouth.
His brother, the renowned agriculturist, would

8UMMA PAPAVEBUM CAPITA. 139

introduce him to visitors with the aphorism
that one of them dealt in esculent, the other
in Hebrew roots; but, like his friend and
follower Charles Marriott, he had no small
talk, and would sit absolutely silent in strange
company. Into external society he never
went ; was once persuaded by his old friend
and neighbour Sir Bobert Throgmorton to
meet at dinner the Soman OathoKc antiquary
and theologian Dr. Rock ; but he came back
bewailing that Dr. Eock had opened con-
troversy so soon as they sate down, had kept
it up after the ladies left the table, had walked
homewards with him in order to pursue it,
flinging a last word after his opponent as they
parted at Mr. Pusey^s lodge-gate. In contrast
to his disinclination for general talk was his
morbid love of groping in the spiritual interiors
of those with whom he found himself alone.
He woidd ask of strangers questions which
but for his sweet and courteous manner they
must have deemed impertinent. I had not
been in his company a week before he had
extracted my past history, habit of mind,
future aims. Persons who evaded his question-
ings fell in his opinion ; he denounced as
reprobate a sullen groom who drove him in
and out of Oxford, and who had repelled his
attempts at inquisition ; the habit of acting
towards others as a confessor seemed to have
generated a scientific pleasure in religious
vivisection. He had countless cHents of this

140 BEMINISGENGE8 OF OXFORD.

kind ; women chiefly, but young men, too,
as readers of Mark Pattison's " Memoirs '* will
recollect. Flys came to the door, from which
descended ladies, Una-like in wimple and black
stole, "as one that inly mourned," obtained
their interview, and went away. He paid
frequent visits for the same purpose to Miss
Sellouts institution — Chretien's wicked witticism
will recur to some who read^ — and on our
occasional visits to Wantage, where Butler
reigned as vicar, with liddon and Mackonochie
as his curates, we were detained till late at
night while he gave audience to ladies of the
place. Sisterhoods were his especial delight
and admiration ; he had begun to work for
their estabhshment in 1840, somewhat against
Newman's judgment. He held in all its force
the mediaeval superstition as to the excellence
of virginity ; exerting all his influence on one
occasion and setting many springs in motion
to enKst in the Clewer Home a young orphan
lady whose friends deemed her not old enough
for such a Ufe, and treating his ultimate dis-
comfiture as a victory of Evil over Good. His
dread of worldly influences begot the feeling
that no young woman was safe except in a
nunnery, no young man except in orders.
He would urge men to be ordained at the
earliest possible period: controversial knowledge,

^ There was a foolish report of his contemplated marriage
to Miss Sellon : Chretien of Oriel remarked that the offspring of
the alliance would be known as the " Pusey Miscellany.''

8UMMA FAFAVEBUM OAPITA. 141

systematic reading, theological erudition, might
come afterwards ; if only the youth were pious,
earnest, docile, the great thing was to fix, to
secure, to capture him.

In one of our walks he told me of his
appointment to the Hebrew Professorship. He
had been a favourite with Lloyd, who held
besides his Oxford bishopric the post of Divinity
Professor, and who when at Ouddesdon or in
London gave up his Christchurch house and
Kbrary to his young friend's use. Pusey owned
a Hebrew Bible with large folio interleavings,
and these were filled with the notes of ten
years' study. Once the Bishop came suddenly
to his house, and Pusey, vacating it in a hurry,
left his foho behind. It caught Lloyd's eye :
he examined it, and gave it back without
remark ; but when soon afterwards Dr. NicoU
died and Sir Robert Peel consulted Lloyd as
to the appointment, he strongly recommended
Pusey, who became Begins Professor at the
age of twenty-nine. Lloyd cautioned him —
" Eemember, you must be circumspect, you
will be i^dovep&v ^OovepoyraTos'^ Lord Badnor,
the head of the family, was just then
in vehement Opposition, and the Duke of
Wellington's colleagues attacked him for patron-
ising a Bouverie. ""How could I help it,"
said the Duke, "when they told me he was
the best man ? " He was a laborious Professor,
but a duU lecturer. His lectures, given in
his library, were conversational, not continuous

142 REMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

or metliodised ; his manner hesitating^ iterative,
involved ; you had to look out for and pain-
fully disentangle the valuable learning they
contained. Rarely his subject would inspire
him. Once at the close of a wearisome dis-
quisition on Isaiah xxi. he suddenly woke up
at the words, " Watchman, what of the night ? '*
gave a swift, briUiant, exhaustive paraphrase
of those two oracular verses, sent us away
electrified and wondering. Two other incidents
from the lecture room rise up before me. He
was laying down the probable site of ancient
Tyre, when an eccentric student broke in to
quote from memory Grote's dictum on the
subject, differing altogether from the Doctor's.
He looked scared for a moment at the inter-
ruption, then smilingly reserved the point, and
told us next time that he had read Grote's
note and acceded to his view. Another day
I noticed that he was unwontedlv distrait
casting glances towards the same student, who,
always nervous and restless, was crumpling
in his fingers a scrap of written paper. When
the room cleared and I remained to chat, as
I sometimes did, he joyously pounced upon
the paper, which had fallen under a chair,
and showed it to me crammed with manu-
script in his own minute handwriting, re-
presenting as he told me two days' labour,
which wotdd have been lost to him had young
Fidgety destroyed it.

He early gave me a proof of his regard.

SUMMA PAPAVEBUM CAPITA. 143

vouchsafed I was told only to a few, in setting
me to work for him : successive pages of
Greek and Latin which I translated look me
now in the face when I open his "Catena on
the Eucharist/' But he wotdd let no one else
overwork me, for I had much on my hands
at the time ; and when he heard poor Edward
Herbert, then an Eton boy, murdered after-
wards by Greek brigands, petition nie to read
Virgil with him in the evenings, interposed an
eager negative — "Mr. Tuckwell's evening is the
poor man's one ewe lamb, and I will not have
it sacrificed/' Twice he spoke to me of his
wife, whom he had loved at eighteen, married at
twenty-eight, lost at thirty-nine. A common
friend was sacrificing an important sphere of
work in order to seek with his deUcate wife
a warmer climate, and I asked him — ^no doubt
a priggish query — if the abandonment were
justifiable on the highest grounds. "Justi-
fiable?" he said, "I would have given up

anything and gone anywhere, but "; his

voice shook, the aposiopesis remained unfilled.
Once afterwards I was with him in his drawing
room at Oxford. It had been newly papered
when the family from Pusey came to Kve
with him. He told me that the former paper
had been chosen by his wife, and that to
cover it up had pained him, but pointed with
a sad smile to a comer where the fresh paper
had been rubbed away (by his own fingers
I suspected) and an inch or two of the old

144 BEMINI8GENGES OF OXFORD.

pattern disclosed. He was greatly amused
by a report, which I repeated to him as current
in Oxford, that he punished his children for
their misdeeds by holding their fingers in the
candle as an antepast of heU-fire. He said
he had never punished his children in his
life, and his son Philip, to whom the tradition
was repeated, added that the nearest approach
to punishment he cotdd recollect was when
his father, looking over his shoulder as he
read a novel on a Sunday, pulled his ear and
said, "Oh, Phil, you heathen !*' The weU-
known anecdote of the lamb he corrected for
me. He was in the three-horse omnibus
which used to run from Oxford to the railwav
at Steventon, and a garrulous lady talked to
him of the Newmanites and of Dr. Pusey,
adding that the latter, she was credibly in-
formed, sacrificed a lamb every Friday. "I
thought I ought to teU her,"' he said; ""so I
answered, ' My dear madam, I am Dr. Pusey,
and I do not know how to kill a lamb.' ''

In argument he was always modest and
candid. Mr. Algernon Herbert, the eccentric,
the omniscient, the adorable, was referring
Christ's miracles to medica fides ; to no innate
thaumaturgic power that is, but to a passionate
behef on the part of the recipients which
acted on their bodily frames. Pusey frankly
accepted the theory as regarded the healing
of functional maladies, citing modem instances
in support of it, but pointing out that the

8UMMA PAPAVERUM CAPITA. 145

explanation failed to cover the removal of
organic disease ; that when, for instance, a
man born blind was reported to have gained
eyesight, you must accept the miracle or deny
the fact. He owned that a six days' Creation
could not be Kterally maintained, for he had
attended Buckland's lectures ; more he would
not say ; but long afterwards, when Darwin's
book came out, he asked Dr. Rolleston whether
the species existing upon the globe five thou-
sand years ago might not have been so few
as to be contained in an Ark of the dimensions
given in Genesis. "I would not answer him,''
said Rolleston in his blunt way ; " I knew
he would quote me as an authority." I
pressed him once to say whether, in his opinion,
morahty without faith or faith without morality
were the more hopeful state. He did not
like my way of putting it, and fenced with
the question for a time, giving the preference
at last to faith without morality, but owning
his verdict to be paradoxical, and laughing
heartily when I reminded him of the sound
Churchman in Boswell's "Johnson,"^ who
never entered church, but never passed the
door without pulling off his hat. I quoted
a recent Chaise by Bishop Blomfield con-
taining strong doctrinal statements. He said

^ " Boswell," vol. ii., p. 195 ; ed. 1835. " Campbell is a good
man, a pious man ; I am afraid he has not been in the inside of a
church for many years, but he never passes a church without
pulling off his hat. This shows that he has good principles.**
K

146 BEMINIS0BNCE8 OF OXFORD.

that he had not read and should not read it :
" He has been a Bishop twenty years, has
given, they say, eight hours a day to the
merely mechanical work of his diocese ; what
time has he had to read, or what is his opinion
worth on questions of theology or doctrine ? ""
The rituaUstic practices just beginning to
appear he regarded with distaste, as presump-
tuous and mistaken ; his strong disapprobation
of their later developments is recorded in a
recent "life of Goulbum." We called upon an
adjacent rector, who showed us proudly as
a virtutis opus his newly made reredos sur-
mounted by a large cross, admitting that in
consequence of its erection several parishioners
had ceased to attend the service. Pusey said
to me as we drove away, ''I would never put
up a cross in any church, feeling certain that
it would offend someone/' Alluding once to
his own alleged heterodoxy, he challenged us
to find any rule of the Church which he had
ever broken. Rubric in hand, we catechised
him, but he stood the test, owning indeed
that he always stayed away from the Gun-
powder Plot Service, but refusing to recognise
a Royal Warrant as canonical.

He had no famiUar acquaintance with our
older English classics ; a quotation from Cow-
ley, Dryden, Pope, seemed to touch in him
a latent string, but awoke no Uterary associa-
tion ; for Dr. Johnson indeed he professed
loyal admiration — less, I fancy, for the author

8UMMA PAPAVEBUM CAPITA. 147

of " Easselas," the " Eambler/' and the " Lives/'
than for the scrupulous High Churchman who
drank his tea without milk and ate his buns
without currants upon Good Friday. Of modem
pubUcations not theological he read absolutely
nothing ; one of his nieces pressed on him for
a raQway journey Miss Yonge's "Heartsease,"
just then in vogue, but he could not get
through the opening chapter ; his sympathies,
all wide as they were, failed to vibrate to the
poor child-bride's sorrows. He was a staunch
defender of absent friends ; when a visitor
spoke disparagingly once of Mr. J. M. Neale,
another time of Dean Lake, he flared up on
their behalf with an energy for which he
afterwards apologised. For freethinkers he had
the deepest repugnance ; his outbreak when I
quoted admiringly Froude's fine paper on the
Study of History in the " Oxford Essays '' re-
verberated through the family. He seemed to
feel something hke alarm in the presence of
neologian writers, EngUsh or German, as of
antagonists whose arrows threatened weak
points in his armour. He recounted to me
the astonishment first, the horror afterwards,
with which, while in Germany, he Hstened to
the Professors' lectures. I told him how
Shuttleworth, when at Holland House as tutor
and engaged in controversy with Allen, "Lady
Holland's infidel," demolished his attacks on
prophecy by citation of Isaiah liii. "The
Germans," he said with a groan, "would have

148 BEMINI8GEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

shown Allen how to meet it."" Of course
he was an accomplished German scholar^ un-
like old Tatham of Lincoln, who in his famous
two -and -a -half -hour sermon on the Three
Heavenly Witnesses, wished ""all the Jarman
critics at the bottom of the Jarman Ocean/'
He preached every Sunday at Pusey in the
Uttle church, a change from the ordinary
occupant of the ptdpit, whose homiUes Mr.
Pusey pronounced to be Blair infused with
Epictetus. His sermons there gave the same
overwhelming impression of personal saintliness
as breathed from them in the Christchurch
pulpit ; but the language was laboriously
simple, arresting the crass Berkshire rustics by
pithy epigrams which fastened on their minds,
and which some of them used afterwards to
repeat to me : " Find out your strong point
and make the most of it "" ; " Seek heaven
because it is God's throne, not because it is
an escape from hell '' ; " Holiness consists not
in doing uncommon things, but in doing
common things in an unconmion way/' Of
his obiter dicta I recall the following : " In
the study of theology books are better than
topics/' "The best eccleiiastical history is
Fleury's/' " It is a good thing to know a large
number of minds/' " A carefully written sermon
or essay cannot be recast or expanded ; its
integrity is marred by reconstruction/' " Dis-
continue fasting as dangerous if you feel
exhausted on the following day/' (Htts own

SUMMA PAPAVEBUM CAPITA. 149

regular Friday meal was a poached egg on
spinach, with one glass of port.) "Bennett, of
St. Patd's, Knightsbridge, is the only man I
know who went abroad with wavering Angli-
can allegiance and returned an English Church-
man." "Hooker's chapter on the Eucharist is
disappointing ; he shirks the logical sequence
of his grand argument on the Incarnation
and passes off into mere pious rhapsody.*
" Luther had an irreverent mind ; he says
that if God had pleased to make a bit of stick
the Sacrament He might have done so." I
failed to see the irreverence, but he spoke the
words whisperingly and with a shudder, and
I cotdd not question him further.

The year 1855, Tvdth which these experi-
ences end, marked a transitional period in his
life-history. In the autumn of the previous
year, greatly to his surprise, he was elected
at the head of the Professoriate a member of
the enlarged Hebdomadal Council under the
new Act, was fascinated at their first encounter,
as he told me, by the dashing talk and practi-
cal energy of his colleague, Jeune, became, I
think, for a time a weapon in that clever
tactician's hands, at any rate came out of his
Achilles tent and flung himself with a keen
sense of freedom and enjoyment into active
legislation for the hberated University. Mark
Pattison used to say that no man of superior
intellect and character coidd be yoked unequally
to the machine of public " business " without

150 BEMINI80EN0E8 OF OXFORD.

moral and mental deterioration ; and certainly
the Pusey of later years, as useful for aught
I know, was not so great as the imposing
hierophant of the Forties. He is handled
saucily in the clever fragment which sprang
from young Balliol about 1856 : —

Now, stilled the various labours of the day,
Student and Don the drowsy charm obey.
E*en Pusey owns the soft approach of sleep,
Long as hia sermons, as his learning deep ;
Peaceful he rests from Hebraistic lore.
And finds that calm he gave so oft before.^

The lines are quite good-humoured, but no
longer reverential ; they could not have been
written ten years earlier. I had known him
as a devout Casaubon, unconscious of con-
temporary trivialities, aloof in patristic reverie
and in spiritual pathology. That at any rate
he ceased to be; these earlier reminiscences,
nowhere hitherto recorded, indicate the close
of a chapter in his inner as in his outer life.

But the chronicles of Christchurch are not
all in canon type. In my bookcase is a
finely bound Delphin Virgil, a school prize
with the legend Honoris Causa on its cover,
which belonged to Charles Atterbury, Senior
Student and Vicar of St. Mary Magdalen. A
well-bred gentleman, a finished scholar, a
devoutly efficient pastor, he was also an en-
thusiastic whip, . never so happy as when

* Appendix L

8UMMA PAP AVE BUM CAPITA. 161

handling Ck)star's thoroughbreds. He was
destined^ like Pope's Cobham^ to feel his ruling
passion strong in death : while driving the
Birmingham coach he was upset and killed
The text of his sermon on the Sunday before
had been " Set thine house in order ; for thou
shalt die, and not Kve."*

In the Thu'ties liddell strode the quad
rangles, already magnificent in presence, less
superbly Olympian than he afterwards became,
I think Westminster saw the meridian of his
personal beauty. Sweeping into the Abbey
with his boys on a Sunday afternoon, he
beUttled and ugUfied all the surpliced dignitaries
around him; venerable to the last, he yet
made one rejoice that the gods do not grow
old. "None knew," wrote to me at his death
one of his most distinguished coUeagues-

None knew how great Liddell was. I rather hope they
will not have his Life written. Only those who worked with
him could tell what a depth of tenderness and generosity there
was in him. He was strangled by the Don, and spent his great
powers on the Dictionary. Do the greatest of men achieve
more than one-tenth of their powers ?

The life has been written, and we may be
grateful for it. It has set him right with a
half-appreciating world; has taught those who
needed to be informed that beneath the stem,
reserved, austere outside lay a man humble
reverent, tender.h«>rted ; J severity atr^ght-
forwardness, his hauteur shyness, his reticence
bom of the strong self-restraint which guarded

152 BEMINI80ENCE8 OF OXFORD,

all utterances by exactest truth, his Stoicism
like that of the Boman AureUus, like that
of the Hebrew Preacher — " death so dark, and
all dies ; love it before it dies ; love it because
it dies ; fear God, love one another, this is
the whole of man." The cathedral which he
beautified, the University which he helped to
reform, the College whose intellectual and
moral strain he raised, will not behold a nobler
man.

Of Ghristchurch, too, his friend of many
years. Max Miiller, was an adopted son. I
recall the black-haired shght young foreigner
in 1846, or thereabouts, known first as a
pianist in Oxford drawing-rooms, whose in-
mates ceased their chatter at his brilliant touch.
I remember the contest for the Sanskrit Pro-
fessorship, wherein I voted, and as far as I
cotdd worked for him ; an inferior candidate
being preferred before him, first because Max
was a German, and therefore a " Germaniser,"
secondly because a friend of Bunsen must of
necessity be heretical, thirdly because it was
unpatriotic to confer an English Chair on any
but an Enghshman. I attended his stimidating
philological lectures, learning from his lips the
novel doctrine of the Aryan migrations and
the rationale of Greek myths : the charm of
his delivery heightened by a few Germanisms
of pronunciation and terminology; moost for
" must," dixonary for " vocabulary." He con-
sidted me later about two matters in which,

SIR FREDERICK OU8ELEV.

8UMMA FAFAVERUM CAPITA. 153

strange to say, I was better informed than he, the
art of budding roses and the conduct of marine
aquaria. He watched me one day in my
garden putting in some buds, and tried his
hand ; but gave it up presently, saying :
" While you are budding a dozen standards I
can earn £5 by writing an article/' I was
his guest sometimes in his pretty home
opposite the Magdalen elms, where played
Deichmann —

Whose bowing seemed made
For a hand with a jewel,

where Jenny lind warbled, Charles Kingsley
stammered in impassioned tete-ortete. I read
with deUght three years ago his "Aidd Lang
Syne," pasting into it an 1860 portrait of his
then clear-cut face, as a corrective to the
elderly crassified outlines of the more recent
counterfeit presentment, which, hardly suiting
the title, decorates the frontispiece of his book.
As I think of him in his earlier musical
Oxford days, there comes before me a more
wonderful pianist, who had taken his degree,
but was still resident at Christchurch, when
Max Miiller first appeared. Few now remember
Sir Frederick Ouseley's playing at the amateur
concerts m. the earUer Forties ; the slim form
and dark foreign face, the prolonged rubbing
and twisting of the mobile hands before they
were placed upon the instrument; the large,
prominent, opal eyes, in fine frenzy rolling over
the audience as the piece went on, the executant

154 BEMINI80ENGE8 OF OXFORD.

brilliancy of the marvellous performance, with
constructive development and contrapuntal skill
which the highest English adepts professed them
selves unable to emidate. like Handel, Men-
delssohn, Mozart, he was bom a musical prodigy ;
but he lacked serious training ; the early
golden years were wasted by his relatives in
petting, not instructing, him ; Greek and Latin,
which he hated, were forced upon him ; a
clerical career and ritualistic excitements dis-
tracted him. Even so, he was nothing short
of a very great musician. He was probably—
there is wealth of competent consensus in the
verdict — the greatest extempore player who
ever Kved. Often, in days of yore, have I
formed one amongst a group round his piano
challenging him to improvise. He always asked
for a subject. One of us wotdd supply a theme,
perhaps intentionally intricate. In a few
moments he would begin, and the piece wotdd
grow under his hand with a wealth of resource,
a command of technical device, a brilliancy of
imagination, and a skilful elaboration of com-
pUcated texture.

Untwisting all the chains that tie
The hidden soul of harmony —

which raised it to the rank of a great classical
masterpiece. His knowledge of the history of
music was unique ; his Kbrary, finely equipped
in other departments, contained not only end-
less autograph and unpubKshed scores, but
several hundred works on music in many

\8UMMA FAPAVEBUM CAPITA, 155

languages, all of which, an accomphshed Un-
guist, he had read and mastered. His musical
degree and his acceptance of the Professorship
were looked upon by the Dons as ignominious
condescensions ; though old Gaisf ord loyally
attended the performance in the Theatre of his
Mus.Doc. exercise, the oratorio of "Polycarp,"
in which his friend Madame Dolby sang the
sweet contralto solos. As Professor he raised
to a very high pitch the standard of graduate
qualification, and delivered admirable lectures,
of which only meagre reports remain. From
his many compositions a couple of anthems
and two or three hymns alone seem likely to
survive ; his idtimate repute will, I fear, be alto-
gether incommensurate with his vast powers.

Apart from exceptional men hke these,
intellectually as historically, Christchurch held
its own. The C5ommon Boom in the Thirties
contained seniors such as Foster Lloyd, F.R.S.,
and Political Economy Professor ; Bobert Hussey,
a monimient of erudition, not yet so grimly
serious as he became in later years ; Jacob
Ley, the greatly beloved, who probably, like
Dominie Sampson, " evinced even from his
cradle an uncommon seriousness of disposition.*"
Of the juniors were Bode, Hertford Scholar;
W, E. Jelf; Osborne Gordon, Ireland Scholar
and Double First; Linwood, Hertford, Ireland,
Craven Scholar, and, a little later, Kitchin,
Double First, now Dean of Durham. Lrnwood
was nephew to the once celebrated Miss linwood.

156 BEMINI8GEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

whose needlework imitation of grqat paint-
ings drew crowds to her Exhibition Booms
in Leicester Square. He is known to the
present generation as compiler of the "Antho-
logia Oxoniensis." He was a rough, shabby
fellow when I remember him, Kving in London,
and coming up to examine in the Schools,
where he used to scandalise his colleagues by
proposing that for the adjudication of Classes
thev should " throw into the fire all that other
rubbish, and go by the Greek Prose/' It was
said of him that somewhat late in life, reading
St. Patd's Epistles for the first time, and asked
by Gaisford what he thought of them, he
answered "that they contained a good deal of
curious matter, but the Greek was execrable.''
By Jelf hangs a tale. He was yoimger
brother to the Canon, an accomplished scholar,
author of a Greek Grammar which furnished
to English students what Matthise had achieved
for Germans. But his reputation rests upon
the historic " Jelf row " of 1843. Proctor in
that year, he was the most unpoptdar official
of the century, beating "Lincohi Green" and
Merton Peters, who ranked next to him in
odium. He seems to have found enjoyment
in what Proctors usually hate, the pimitive
side of his duty. Dexterous in capturing,
offensive in reprimanding, venomous in chas-
tising his victims, he had accumulated against
himself a fund of hatred which abode its time,
imtil it might find relief in the Saturnalia of

8UMMA PAPAVEBUM CAPITA. 157

Oommemoration. It liappened that the uproar
which ensued gave voice to a duplex querela ;
hostiUties were rampant in the area as well
as in the gallery of the Theatre. The young
Uons of the Newmania, sore from Pusev's
suspension and Isaac WilUams' defeat, and led
by Lewis of Jesus and Jack Morris of Exeter,
chose to be furious at the presentation of a
Unitarian, the American Minister Everett, for
an honorary D.O.L. Early in the morning
they called on the Vice-Ohancellor, Wynter,
President of St. John's, to protest. Wynter,
serene, indifferent, handsome — " St. John's
Head on a charger " men called him as he went
out for his daily ride — urged that Mr. Everett
conformed in England ; that honorary degrees
had no reference to theological opinion ; would
not, in short, withdraw the distinguished heretic.
So finding remonstrance vain, the angry mal-
contents attended in formidable numbers to
non placet the degree. On the other hand, the
smarting undergraduates had sworn a solenm
oath, hke John Barleycorn's royal foes, to stop
all proceedings until Jelf was driven out of the
Theatre. Prom his first appearance in the
procession the yells and groans went on without
a moment's slackening. In dumb show the
Vice-Chancellor opened the Convocation, Garbett
declaimed inaudible his Oreweian Oration, Bliss
presented Everett, who, red-gowned, unconscious,
smiling, took his seat among the Doctors.
An opposing Latin speech by Marriott and a

158 BEMUnSGENCES OF OXFORD.

volley of nan placets from his friends were
imagined but unheard amid the din, and
ignored by Wynter, who at the expiration of
an hour dissolved the C5onvocation, to the fury
of the Puseyites, the triumph of the gallery,
and, so all beUeved, to his own concealed but
genuine relief from a very difficult position.
After-protests poured in upon him, to be met
by bland assurances, which no one credited,
but no one could disprove, that in the ceaseless
uproar he had not heard the nan placets ; that,
in short, factum valuit, the thing was done.
Three or four men were expelled ; amongst
them Pamell, a Double First of Wynter's own
College, who had not yet put on his gown,
and who, according to the testimony of those
who sate near him was inconspicuous if not
innocent in the turmoil ; while the posthiimous
indignation of the MA.'s fizzled out in the
appomtment of a C5ommittee. " So,** says the
Introduction to a recent edition of ^'Eothen,'*
"while Everett was obnoxious to the Puseyites,
Jelf was obnoxious to the undergraduates ;
the cannonade of the angry youngsters drowned
the odium of the theological malcontents ;

" Another lion gave another roar,
And^the first lion thought the last a bore."

The Tractarian element in the tumidt is
described in a richly humorous letter to Lord
Blachford ^ from Dean Church, himself prom-

1 «•

Life of Dean Church/* p. 40.

8UMMA PAFAVEEUM CAPITA. 159

inent in the following year as interposing
with Gnillemard of Trinity to crush by their
proctorial non placet the decree against "Tract
90 " : a dramatic incident which had not oc-
curred during the present century, except when
in 1836 the measure to suspend Hampden was
veto'd by Bayley of Pembroke and Eeynolds
of Jesus, I possess the address of thanks
presented to Church and Guillemard, signed by
about six hundred notable Graduates, not by
any means confined to the High Church party.
The memory of Osborne Gordon is, I fear,
already fading. The authors of the "life of
Stanley'' think that "some few readers may
have met with his Greek lines on Chantrey's
children/' I should hope every scholar can
repeat them — non obtusa adeo gestamus pec-
tora!^ Less known, and very scarce, are his
"Sapphics on the Installation of Lord Derby
as Chancellor," a parody on Horace's " Quem
Virum." ^ With solemn irony he glorifies his
hero ; lauds him, in fiction such as Phoebus
loves, a consistent Proteus, skilled to veil base
thoughts in noble words ; recalls in a felicitous
stanza his savage assault on smiling Bishop
Wilberforce in the House of Lords ; sneers at
the tail of followers brought with him to be
decorated — " sorry wreck of a de/eated crew, to
be refitted in the harbour of quiet Isis." Young
men and maidens in the Theatre cheer him
and them ; with malign smile the country

^ Appendix J, ^ Appendix K.

160 BEMINI8CEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

looks and listens. I know not what fly had
stung him — what motive winged and pointed
a shaft so keen ; it must have pierced the
Chancellor's embroidered panoply, vulnerable to
elegant academic taunts, though impervious to
vernacular Parhamentary vituperation.

One more skit let me be permitted to recall,
emanating from the same College, partly from
the same pen. In 1857 Dr. Acland went
with Dean Liddell, then in dehcate health, to
Madeira. On his return voyage a large thunny
was caught by the sailors, rescued when the
ship was wrecked on the Dorsetshire coast,
taken to Oxford by the Professor, artictdated
by Charles Eobertson, and mounted in the
Anatomy School. Brought thence to the new
Museum in 1860, it was placed in the area,
with a somewhat inflated Latin inscription on
Thunnus quern vides aflGLxed to its handsome
case. Soon appeared a sham Congregation
notice, announcing a statute for the abrogation
of the label and substituting another, Thunnus
quern rides, a hne-upon-line travesty of the first,
as derisively satirical as its model was affect-
edly complacent.^ It was beheved to have
been rough-hewn by Lewis Carroll, handed
roimd the Common Room, retouched by Gordon,
Bode, and the rest ; a dehghtful change at the

close, etnceXerivdri, skeletonissd, to i^Ki^fiwpevdri, Skid-

moreised, Skidmore having constructed the sup-
porting iron foUage of the area, was ascribed

^ Appendix L.

8UMMA PAP AVE BUM CAPITA. 161

to Prout, who is still in green old age an ad-
mired ornament of "The House/' Would that
we had more of Osborne Gordon ! Marshall of
Christchurch edited a volume of his sermons
with an inadequate Memoir. Those who can
still remember that queer, mocking face with
its half-closed, inscrutable eyes, and who knew
the humour, wisdom, benignity, which lay be-
hind it, are fewer every day —

Slowly we disarray; our leaves grow few,
Few on the tree, and many on the sod.

He is a memory only, and will some day cease
to be that.

A well known writer in a recent book calls
his old tutor a vtdgarian and a tuft-hunter.
Probably Gordon snubbed him, deservedly no
doubt, but forgetting Shallow's advice to Davy,
and this is his revenge ; the valet-de-chambre
was no hero, and had better perhaps not show
himself in Christchurch Common Room.

I have mentioned Lewis Carroll. He was
junior to these other men, and has been
recently biographised, facsimile'd, Isa-Bowman-
ised, to the n*^ as he would say. Of course,
he was one of the sights of Oxford : strangers,
lady strangers especially, begged their lionising
friends to point out Mr. Dodgson, and were dis-
appointed when they saw the homely figure and
the grave, repellent face. Except to Uttle girls,
he was not an alluring personage. Austere,
shy, precise, absorbed in mathematical reverie,

L

162 BEMINISGENGES OF OXFORD.

watchfiillj tenacious of his dignity, stiffly con-
servative in political, theological, social theory, his
life mapped out in squares like Alice's land-
scape, he struck discords in the frank harmonious
camaraderie of College life. The irreconcilable
dualism of his exceptional nature, incongruous
blend of extravagant frolic with self-conscious
puritan repression, is interesting as a psycho-
logical study now that he is gone, but cut him
off while living from all except the "Uttle
misses" who were his chosen associates. His
passion for them was universal and undiscrim-
inating ; like Miss Snevellici's papa, he loved
them every one. Yet even here he was
symmetrical and rigid ; reaching the point
where brook and river meet, the petted loving
child friend was dropped, abruptly, remorse-
lessly, finally. Perhaps it was just as well :
probably the severance was mutual; the Uttle
maids put away childish things, he did not:
to their maturer interests and grown.-up day-
dreams he could have made no response :
better to cherish the recoUection unimpaired
than to blur it by later consciousness of unsuit-
ability ; to think of him as they think of
nursery books, a plea^t memory, laid by
upon their shelves affectionately, although no
longer read. And to the few who loved
him this faithlessness, as some have called it,
seems to reveal the secret of his character.
He was what German Novalis has called a
"grown-up child.'* A man in intellectual

8UMMA PAPAVEEUM CAPITA. 163

range, severe self-knowledge, ventiiresonie imag-
ination, he remained a child in frankness,
innocence, simplicity ; his pedantry cloaking a
responsiveness, which shrank from coarser, more
conventional, adult contact, vibrated to the
spiritual kinship of Uttle ones, still radiant with
the visionary light which most of us lose all
too soon, but which shone on him through
life.

164

CHAPTER X.

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE.

Lordly is Ghristchurch, with its walks and quadrangles ;
lovely is Merton, as it were the sister of Ghristchurch, and
gracefully dependent; New College is majestic; All Souls
worthy of princes ; but Magdalen alone is all that is the charm
of others, compendious in itself ; 3delding only a little to each
rival in particular, but in the whole excelling them all.

Cleveland Coxe.

The Most Beautiful of Colleges— Dr. Routh— His Old Young Wife—
His Mania for Books — His Friends — Some Famous Men of
Magdalen — ^New College— Shuttleworth — Whately and Manning
— The Abingdon Ball and the Brigands of Bagley Wood —
Public Orator Crowe — Christopher Erie— His Sharp Tongue —
Lancelot Lee — One of the DStenu8 of 1803 — Dr. Nares — ^His
DjoUery written for Miss Horseman.

I PASS from Ghristchurch to Magdalen ;
from the stateliest to the most beautiful of
Ck)lleges ; Hall and Chapel loveKer perhaps,
Walks and Tower lovelier past question, than
any of the Oxford groves and buildings : no-
where else does the Numen inest so enthral,
inspire, haunt. But its prime of rarity in
those days was its President, Dr. Eouth, " of
olden worth the lonely leaf and last " ; who,
bom in 1754, was in the later Thirties past
fourscore, and was to live into his hundredth
year. It was as a spectacle that he excited
popular interest ; to see him shuffle into Chapel
from his lodgings a Sunday crowd assembled.

DR. ROUTH,

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE. 165

The wig, with trencher cap insecurely poised
above it, the long cassock, ample gown, shorts
and buckled shoes ; the bent form, pale vener-
able face, enormous pendent eyebrows, generic
to antique portraits in Bodleian gallery or
College Halls, were here to be seen alive —

Some statue you would swear
Stepped from its pedestal to take the air.

After 1836 he was rarely visible in the
streets, but presided at College Examinations,
and dined in Hall on Gaudy days, occupy-
ing the large State Chair, never profaned
by meaner loins, constructed from the
immemorial Magdalen elm, which, much
older than the College, feU with a terrific
crash in 1789. In front of his lodgings stood
a scarcely less remarkable acacia tree, spUt from
the root originally, and divagating in three
mighty stems, of late years carefuUy propped.
Once while he was at Tylehurst, his country
home, word was sent to him that a heavy
gale had blown his acacia tree down : he re-
turned a peremptory message that it should
be put up again. Put up it was ; the Mag-
dalen Dryads owned their chief; it lived, aoid
long survived him. I stood for a Demyship
early in the Forties, nominated, according to
the custom then prevalent, by Frank Faber.
He was confined to his rooms by illness, and
had faQed to comply with some essential pre-
liminary, of which he ought to have been

166 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD,

informed. But — so it was said — the Vice-
President and the Fellow next in order, to
whom Faber's nomination, if forfeited, would
lapse, conspired to keep it from the invalid ;
and when he was carried into Hall to vote for
me, they sprang the objection they had hus-
banded, and disqualified him. I went in for
vivd voce immediately afterwards, and I remem-
ber how old Bouth, shaken by the contest,
wept while I construed to him the lines from
the Third Book of the "Biad,'' in which Helen,
from the walls of Troy, names the Grecian
chiefs below. My supplanter was a Winchester
boy named Wickham, who died shortly after-
wards.

Mrs. Bouth was as noticeable as her
husband. She was bom in the year of his
election to the Presidency, 1791 ; so that be-
tween "her dear man," as she called him, and
heiself — "that crathy old woman," as he occa-
sionally called her — were nearly forty years.
But she had become rapidly and prematurely
old : with strongly marked features, a large
moustache, and a profusion of grey hair, she
paraded the streets, a spectral figure, in a
Uttle chaise drawn by a donkey and attended
by a hunchbacked lad named Cox. " Woman,"
her husband would say to her, when from
the luncheon table he saw Gox leading the
donkey carriage round, "Woman, the ass is at
the door." Meeting me as a boy, she some-
times used to take me in to lunch, where the

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE, 167

old President, who was intimate with my
father, talked to me good-naturedly, questioned
me about my school work, showed me one
day the scar on his table which had been left
by Dr. Parr's tobacco, and enjoyed my admira-
tion of the books which lined hall, rooms,
staircase. He was proud of possessing many
not on the Bodleian shelves. To himself and
to Dr. Bandinel the London catalogues were
regularly sent : Bandinel would mark off the
treasures which he coveted and write by return
of post, but was constantly informed that the
books had gone to Dr. Routh, One day,
calling at Tegg's shop, he saw the boy bring
in a pile of catalogues wet from the press.
Now is my time, he thought, noted some sets
of rare books, and said, "I will take these
books away with me.*' The shopman went
to consult his chief. " I am very sorry, sir,
but they are all bespoken by Dr. Routh."
" How can that be ? Are not the catalogues
freshly printed ? '* " Yes, sir, but proofs of all
our catalogues are sent to Dr. Routh.'' Dr.
Jacobson was another disappointed rival ; he
obtained the proofs, but was stiU too late :
remonstrating with the bookseller, he was told
that while he torote for the books he wanted,
the President sent a man up by the early
coach to secure and bring them back. The
story gives dehghtful point to a generous cau-
tion which he is said to have impressed on
Jacobson : " Beware, sir of acquiring the habit

168 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

of reading catalogues ; you will never get any
good from it, and it will consume much of
your time/'

His especial friend was Dr. Bliss ; I have
a letter to him from Eouth, sealed with
his favourite IX9TS seal, deploring my father's
death. Bliss once asked him to say, supposing
our language to become dead to-morrow, who
would take the classic rank in English which
Cicero had held in Latin. "I think, sir, our
friend Tom Warton," he repUed ; an answer
bespeaking no great knowledge of older EngUsh
Prose. Li later years Burgon, fussy, obse-
quious, adulating, hovered about him. Henry
Coxe, an accompUshed mimic, used to render
dialogues between the two, bringing out, as
in the " always verify quotations," and the
recipe for theological study, the absurdity of
which Burgon's narrative is all unconscious.
Coming to Oxford from his Suffolk home in
1770, he was a mine of anecdote as to the
remote past ; had seen two undergraduates
hanged for highway robbery on the gallows
which ornamented the corner of Long Wall
near Holywell Church — the "church by the
gallows " it is called in a skit from Anthony
Wood's collection — remembered stopping in High
Street to gaze on Dr. Johnson as he rolled
up the steps into University College. One of
his aunts, he used to say, had known a lady
who saw Charles I. in Oxford. He died, so
John Rigaud averred, and so Blagrave, his

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE, 169

brother-in-law, and man of business admitted,
through chagrin at the fall of Eussian Securi-
ties, in which most of his hoards were invested,
at the time of the Crimean War — a very
respectable way of breaking one's heart, accord-
ing to Mr. Dombey, but it would have formed
an anti-climax to Burgon's rhapsodies. Rigaud
imitated his voice and manner with startling
accuracy ; his stories of the old man owed
their force to this, and would be pointless
written down. John preserved too his queer
shoes and gown, and one of his two wigs ;
the other was secured by Daubeny, who sent
it to be petrified in the Knaresborough Spring.
It would have been indestructible without this
calcifying process : when in 1860 a grave was
sunk in New College antechapel to receive the
remains of Warden WiUiams, an ancient skele-
ton was found extended, the bones partly dis-
solved, the wig fresh as from the maker's
hands.

Eminent among the Magdalen Fellows were
Daubeny, WiUiam and Roundell Palmer, Walker,
compiler of " Oxoniana," and author of the
" Mora of Oxfordshire " ; Faber, valetudinarian
and slovenly, lecturing in dressing-gown and
sUppers, brother to " Water-lily " Faber of TJni-
versitv, who became famous afterwards as a
Eoman Catholic hymn writer. James Mozley's
shy, cold outside hid a genial nature and a
mind of rarest power. " Dick " Sewell was a
brilliant Bohemian ; his fine Newdigate on the

170 liEMINISCEXCES OF OXFOBD,

"Temple of Vesta "" was said to have been
written in a single night. A barrister on the
Western circuit, he used to get me leave out
at Winchester, sending me to dine alone at
his lodgings, where I found a roast fowl, a
pint of champagne, a novel, and a tip. Hen-
derson's First Class . in 1839 was long memorable
in the historv of the Schools ; he became Head
Master of Jersey College, then of Leeds Gram-
mar School, and is still alive, an octogenarian
Dean of CarUsle. Charles Reade, just beginning
to write novels, would beguile acquaintances
into his ill-furnished rooms, and read to them
ad na/useam from his latest MS. Bloxam,
Newman's curate at Littlemore, was the first
man to appear in Oxford wearing . the long
collarless coat, white stock, high waistcoat,
which form nowadays the inartistic clerical
uniform. Like his more famous brother
Matthew, he was a laborious antiquary, and
compiled a Register of the Members of his
College from its foundation. He established
the delightful Christmas Eve entertainment in
the College Hall which has been annual now
for fifty years. Held first in his own rooms
as a treat to the choristers, it came about
1849 to fill the Hall with a hundred guests or
more. Hymns, carols, parts of the "Messiah,"
were sung through the evening ; the boys
were feasted at the high table, the visitors
waiting upon them, and eating Christmas
frumenty. Then, when midnight drew near,

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE. 171

a hush fell on the assembly, the choir gathered
round the piano ; twelve o'clock^ pealed from
the tower, and as the last stroke ceased to vi-
brate, Pergolesi's " Gloria " rose Uke an exhalation,
and sent us home in tune for the worship as
well as for the festivity of the Christmas Day.
I am told that the gracious custom still abides,
to keep fresh and green the memory of dear
old Bloxam. Of the remaining Fellows I will
say no more than that they were, for the
most part, fruges consumere nati, and justified
their birthright zealously. Two among them,
Whorhood and T. H. Newman, claim a kindly
though certainly not a reverential notice.
Whorhood was the last and landless descendant
of an ancient line, which had owned for cen-
turies the wide manors of Shotover and Head-
ington. His mother, "Madame Whorhood," a
stately old lady in antique dress, lived with
him in the house overhanging the Cherwell
on the north side of Magdalen Bridge ; the
top of her high cap usually visible to passers-
by. They moved afterwards to a house in the
High Street, over which her ancestral hatch-
ment was suspended when she died. He was
a fresh-coloured, smooth-faced, vivacious, whist-
playing, amiable lounger. Later in Ufe he took
the College Uving of Willoughby, leading there
a lonely, melancholy Ufe, cheated and ruled
by five domestics, whose service was perfect
freedom. Dining once in his old College, he
was boaating of their dociUty and devotion ;

172 BEMINI8GENCES OF OXFORD.

Eigaud scribbled and handed round his own
rendering of the facts —

Sunt mihi quinque domi servi, sunt quinque magistri ;
Quod jubeo faciunt, quodque volunt jubeo;

Englished promptly by Octavius Ogle into —

Five servants I have whom I handsomely pay,

Five masters I have whom I always obey.

To do what I bid them they never refuse,

For I bid them do nothing but just what they choose.

Alas ! The human butterfly in its later stages
is a sight more cautionary than pleasing ; I
met poor Whorhood not long before his death,
paUid, weary, corpulent ; and he cried as we
talked over old times. Newman was a prac-
tical joker ; his rooms overlooked the river,
and he sometimes fished out of his window.
The men coming in from Cowley Marsh cricket
and constitutionals were arrested one afternoon
to see him struggling with a fish, which
Sewell announced through a speaking trumpet
from another window to be. an enormous
pike. Great was the concourse, passionate
the excitement, profuse the advice ; till at last
the monster was hauled up, gaffed, and drawn
in at the window. It was on view in his
rooms ever after, ingeniously constructed of
cardboard overlaid with tinfoil. Many of liis
sayings and pranks survived; mainly, one of
his friends writes to me, too coarse for repeti-
tion. That was a malady most iQcident in those
days to magnanimi heroes of the lighter sort.

MAQBALEN AND NEW COLLEGE, 173

From Magdalen I pass naturally to New
College, whence, matre pukhra pulchrior, it
lineally sprang. Its Warden was Shuttleworth,
the last, I think, with Baden-Powell, of the
**Noetics,'' the only Head who in 1834 had
courage to vote for the admission of Dissenters
to the University ; author of a didl book on
St. Paul's Epistles, but a wit, raconteur, cari-
caturist, mimic. When the queer cupola,
extant and inexphcable still, was made to
surmount the Theatre, he wrote to Whately —
" You ask for news : I have one item only :
the Radcliflfe has kittened, and they have
perched one of the kittens on the top of the
Sheldonian."' He invented an inclined mahogany
railroad, still in use, whereby decanters cir-
culating at the horse-shoe tables in the Conmion
Boom could b^ carried automatically across
the interval of the fire-place. A Winchester
bov, he made his mark at school as a writer
of burlesques ; two of his pieces, " Phaethon,*'
and the " Progress of Learning,"' sent up in
1800 instead of, or together with, the serious
poems expected, are preserved in the " Oarmina
Wiccamica.'' ^ Here are four lines from the
first, where the steeds discover that Phaethon,
not Phoebus, sits behind them —

For Horses, Poets all agree,
Have common sense as well as we ;
Nay, Homer tells us they can speak
Not only common sense, but Greek.

' Appendix M.

174 REMINI80ENGE8 OF OXFORD.

The second opens with the boy leaving home —

The fatal mom arrives, and oh !

To school the blubbering youth must go.

carries him through school, college, country living
to a Deanery ; ends with the predictive lines —

As erst to him, O heavenly Maid,
Learning, to me impart thy aid ;

teach my feet like his to stray
Along Preferment's flowery way.
And, if thy hallowed shrine before

1 still thy ready aid implore,

Make me, O Sphere-descended Queen,
A Bishop, or, at least, a Dean.

Episcopal aspirations do not always take shape
at eighteen years old ; with Shuttleworth they
seem to have been continuous ; Scott's Homerics
satirise him thirty-four years later, as refraining
from the Peel and Wellington contest, in order
to maintain his expectation of a bishopric from
the Whigs —

*AvZpiiv B* ovK ifytiTo ireptVXvroc 'A£coicep«:ic>

A mitre he obtained in 1840, and died sixteen
months after his elevation. On going down
to his bishopric at Chichester, he was warned
by Whately against Manning, an incumbent
in his diocese, as an undoubted "Tractite" —
so Whately always called them. The Arch-
deaconry of Chichester was vacant, the appoint-
ment in the new Bishop's hands. He met
Manning at a dinner-party, was impressed
with his mien and talk, and they sate together

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE. 175

afterwards in the drawing-room mutually
charmed. Manning had walked from no great
distance ; his parsonage lay in the Bishop's way
home, and Shuttleworth oflFered him a seat in
his carriage. Set down at his own door,
"Good-night, my lord," said Manning; "Good-
night, Mr. Archdea^jon," said the Bishop.

His Fellows at New College, as at Magdalen,
were curiously unequal in merit and distinction
A very few, " the two good Duncans," Bandinel,
Tremenheere, Chief Justice Erie, Archdeacon
Grant, George Cox, J. E. Sewell, afterwards
Warden, William Heathcote, be of them that have
left a name behind them ; the rest were mostly of
very common clay indeed. Until 1838 the College
had refused to undergo the public examination
for degrees, and was further oppressed by the
incubus of founder's kin, which imposed two
superannuated dunces from Winchester every
year, to the exclusion often of their meritorious
seniors. Two centuries earlier the discreditable
aphorism, "Golden scholars, silver bachelors,
leaden masters," had been popularly applied to
the CoUege ; and in 1852 it had fallen so low
that the undergraduates petitioned for out-
college tutors, pleading the incompetence of
the resident staflF. A wild set were not only
the juniors but the seniors far into the Thirties.
More than one strange scandal I could recount,
of a sort which, Uke Horace's gold, are best
placed when unexhumed. But I can vouch
for the following frolic. Some men were

176 BEMINTSGENCES OF OXFORD.

going to the Abingdon Ball ; and in the Common
Soom the conversation turned on a highway
robbery recently perpetrated near Wheatley. The
ball-goers talked valiantly of their own courage,
contemptuously of brigand dangers ; their fly was
announced, and oflf they drove. Coming home
they were stopped in a dark part of Bagley Wood
bv two masked men, one of whom held the horses'
heads, while his mate pointed a pistol into the fly
with the conventional highwayman's demand.
Meekly our gallant travellers surrendered money,
watches, jewellery. One pleaded for a ring
which had belonged to his old mother; the
deceased lady was consigned to Tartarus, the
ring was taken, and the marauders rode away
Great commiseration was shown to the victims
when they told their tale, great activity dis-
played by the poUce ; until, on going into Hall
the next afternoon, they saw lying in a heap
on the centre of the high table the abstracted
valuables, including the maternal ring, while
mounting guard over them was a broken
candlestick which had done duty as a pistol.
The two practical jokers had ridden to the
wood, tied their horses to the trees, waited for the
revellers, and played the wild Prince and Poins.
A few more men of note I remember,
rari ncmtes in gurgite. PubUc Orator Crowe
had lately passed away, farmer-like, uncouth, §

wearing a long cassock to hide his leather
breeches, but a fine Latinist with a magni-
loquent dehvery which found scope each year

Af

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE. 177

at the Encsasia. The neat Latin inscription
on Warden Gauntlett's monument in the
antechapel was his ; I possess the first draft in
his handwriting, endorsed by Routh, to whom
he had submitted it. He was known to the
outer world by his reaUy fine poem. " Lewesdon
TTill ^ ; I remember " Mad " Hoskins, the squire
of North Perrott, an enthusiastic Wykehamist,
repeating the whole of it as we rode together,
in 1846, within sight of that " proud rising."
His father was a humble carpenter at Winches-
ter; the son, grown eminent, was standing by
the west door of the Cathedral in conversation
with the Dean and Warden, when the father,
in working dress, his rule projecting from his
corduroys, came by, and walked aside from
the group in modest avoidance of recognition.
Crowe saw him, and called after him in Hamp-
shire Doric, "Here, fayther, if thee baint
ashamed of I, I baint ashamed of thee.''

Another eccentric of the Thirties, Christopher
Erie, brother to the Chief Justice, lived till long
afterwards. like most old-fashioned scholars
of an era when philology was not, he knew
his Greek and Latin books by heart, pouring
out apt quotations with the broad a which
then marked Wykehamists ; was a proficient,
too, in Italian, IVench, and EngUsh literature,
with his Dante at his fingers* ends. He was a
familiar figure at the Athenfleimi, where one
day his Bishop, newly appointed Sam of Oxford,
remonstrated with him — very impertinently,

M

178 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

since they were on neutral ground — for wearing
a black neckcloth. Erie called the club porter.
" Porter, do you know this gentleman ? This
is the Bishop of Oxford. Get me half a dozen
white ties, and bring me one whenever this
gentleman comes into the club." His Uvmg
was in the part of Buckinghamshire colonised
bv Bothschilds — Jerusalem the Grolden it was
caUed — ^and the reigning Baron was his squire.
It was Erie's whim to dress carelessly ; and the
jJlutocrat, walking one day with a large party
and meeting his Bector in the parish, had the
bad taste to handle his sleeve and say, "" Bather
a shabby coat. Parson, isn't it?** Erie held it
up to him — ^" Will you buysh ? will you buysh ? "
There ensued an exitus Israel, and Erie walked
on chuckliag and victorious.

Of the same standing, and not less an original,
was Lancelot Ijee, who, with imposing face and
figure, strident voice, assumed ferocity of manner,
was a frequent visitor at my father's. He was one
of the Detenus, Englishmen seized by Napoleon
in 1803, and incarcerated till his fall in 1814.^
They were about ten thousand in number,
some previously residents in France, but chiefly
visitors or tourists. They included noblemen
and gentlemen, clergymen and academics with
their servants, workmen, and conmiercial travel-
lers. All were at first treated as prisoners of
war; but this sentence was afterwards limited
to English officers, the rest were made prisoners

^ Pace 24.

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE. 179

on parole, and lodged in certain fortified towns.
Those of higher rank, Lee amongst them,
were confined at Verdun, under the charge
of a ruffianly General Wirion, who treated
them with insolent barbarity. A committee
of nine gentlemen was formed to represent the
prisoners and assist the poorer captives, and
of this committee Lee was one. Liberated at
the peace, he returned to New College, and
was presented to the valuable living of Wootton,
near Woodstock, where he built an exceedingly
handsome parsonage, and ruled his people as
a kindly despot, his memory lingering among
them affectionately long after his death. Coming
out of church one dav, he found two dis-
reputable vagabonds in the churchyard. " What
are you doing here ? " " Oh, sir, we are
seeking the Lord.'' ** Seeking the Lord, are
you ? Do you see tho3e stocks ? That is where
the Lord will find you, if you stay here another
minute.*' They did not stay. Insulted in his
old age by a hulking ruffian, the terror of
the village, he gave him a tremendous box on
the ear; and the bully, who could easily
have thrashed him, slunk off cowed. The
degree examination at New College was a
farce, and roused his never-faiUng indignation.
Tractions stiU survive of his furious protest,
and Warden Gauntlett's placid insensibility, at
each repetition of the sham. It would seem,
however, that he was moved by moral disgust
rather than by intellectual ardour Old

180 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD,

William Eisley, of Deddington, used to relate
that he was sitting in Lee's rooms one day
when an iindergraduajfce came in with a puzzling
equation and a request for help. " Turn over
to the next page, sir.** "I have done so, sir."
*'Then turn over to the next" — adding aside
to Eisley as the discomfited inquirer shut the

door, "I hate your d d clever fellows." He

went once with Henry WilUams, most cere-
monious and correct of men, to caU on Miss
Horseman, the delightful old vestal earher
mentioned. She was out. " Who shall I say
called, sir?" "Tell her," in a voice which
sounded from the High to Canterbury gate,
"Tell her it was the man she ought to have
married ! " He died a bachelor in 1841.

Miss Horseman's name suggests another
well-known figure of the Thirties, old Dr.
Nares, Professor of Modem History. As a hand-
some young Fellow of Merton, long before, he
had acted in private theatricals at Blenheim, and
eloped with Lady Charlotte Spencer Churchill.
He wrote an amusing book, "Thinks I to
MyseU," which lay on Miss Horseman's table.
To him, too, was ascribed a lampoon on a Mr.
Sheepshanks, who edited the Satires of Horace
The work was \inscholarly, and the title mis-
printed " Satyrs." Nares wrote : —

The Satyrs of old were Satyrs of note,

With the head of a man and the feet of a goat;

But the Satyrs, of this day all Satyrs surpass,

With the shanks of a sheep and the head of an ass.

MAGDALEN AND NEW COLLEGE. 181

The old lady and the Professor were fast friends,
and she used to repeat to me a piece of clever
jargon which he once extemporised to test
the power of some bragging memorist. The
closing sentence dovetails into Footers similar
improvisation of the KccaliUies and the Great
Panjandrum,^ the confusion probably due to
her ; the earlier part was I beheve quite new.
I learned it from the old lady's Ups, and have
retained it unwritten all these years in the
receptacle which held Count Smorltork's
materials for his great work on England : —

There was a shovel, and a shackfok, and a one-eyed pike-
staff, went to rob a rich poor man of the head of a herring,
the brains of a sprat, and a bushel of barley meaL So he got
up in the morning. "Wife, we're robbed," says he. "You
lie," sajrs she. " "Ks true," says he ; "we must saddle the brown
hen and bridle the black staff." So off they rode tUl they
came to a long wide short narrow lane, and there they met
three horse-nails bleeding at both nostrils. So they sent for
the Hickmaid of the Hall ; she, being a rare stinter of blood,
sent them word that Mrs. Jones Tittymouse Tattymouse was
brought to bed of a mustard spoon and was very ill, and so
she couldn't come. So they sent the boy to Mr. Macklin's,
at the corner of St. Martin's Lane, for some plums to make an
apple pudding with, but desired they mightn't be wrapped in
brown paper, since the last tasted so of cabbage leaves they
couldn't eat them. So the baker's boy came in to buy a penny
loaf ; there being none, they gave him a farthing candle to
eat. Presently three bears came by, and one popped its head
in, and said, " What, bless me, no soap ! " So the head fell
off the block, and beat the powder out of the Lord Chancellor's
wig ; and he died, and she married the barber ; and that's
the way that Mrs. Atkins came to lose her apple dumpling.

' Appendix N,

182

OHAPTEE XI,

OBIEL.

Summi enim sunt homines tantum.

QUINTBLIAN.

Newman — His Character and Career —Had Arnold been at Oxford in
his Time ! — ^Vain Speculations — Newman's life as a Catholic —
Charles liCarriott — Eden — The Efficacy of the Bible— George
Anthony Denison — Tom Hughes — A " Christian Chartist* —
His Radicalism — "Tom Brown" — Oxford in Fiction — Charles
Neate and John Bright — ^Neate, Disraeli, and the Angels.

AHTJNDEED yards from Miss Horseman's
door stands Oriel gateway. What a pro-
cession of phantoms meets the inward eye aa I
approach it I Newman, Charles Marriott, Eden,
Denison, "Donkey" Litton, Low Church leader,
inconspicuous in spite of his Double First, and
Charles Neate, the only layman of the group,
mounting his horse to join the Serkshire
hounds. I was hying at Iffley during New-
man's golden time; knew his mother in her
pretty home at Rosebank, turned afterwards
into a den of disorderly pupils by poor James
Rumsey. I remember the rising of littlemore
church, first among the new Gothic edifices
which the ** Movement '^ revived in England ;
met Newman almost daily striding along the
Oxford Eoad, with large head, prominent nose,
\ tortoiseshell spectacles, emaciated but ruddy
face, spare figure whose leanness was exag-

Ji?w» J'f '^.a/f-t^-j CAtlrcA. Ox/erd^

JOHN HENRY I

I

OBIEL. 183

gerated by the close-fitting tail-coat then worn.
The road ceased to know him after a time ; he
had resigned St. Mary's, and was monachising
with a few devotees in his bam-Uke littlemore
retreat ; then, in 1845, Oxford lost him finally —

Interque mserentes amicos
Egregius properavit exul ;

to the anguish of his disciples left alone, who
had made him their pattern to hve and to
die ; to the relief of many more, who thought
that Humanism and Science might reassert
themselves as subject matter of education
against the polemic which had for fifteen
years forced Oxford back into the barren
word-war of the seventeenth century. ,By no
means a recluse like Pusey, but gregarious,
hospiteble, seminarising, he wa^ always sur-
rounded by disciples, in his rooms, in Oriel
C5ommon Room, in his Littlemore ccendbitium.
But he would only associate with like-minded
men; shrank from healthy friction with avow-
edly opposed opinions, broke off relations with
his rationaUst brother Francis, refused to see
Manning, who came out to call on him at
Littlemore, in consequence of a ser mon h e had
preached upon the Gunpowder riot. And so
he was not, and is not, in any sense a mystery.
While the cryptic element in Pusey's character
is deepened by the sacrilegious haJf-revelations
of his biographers, Newman's own **Apologia *"
and the numerous tributes of his friends have

184 BEMINI8GENCE8 OF OXFORD.

shed a flood of fierce light upon his character.
If Mozley's notices of the "Movement" are
inaccurate and flippant, Pattison's spiteful,
Palmer's tedious, Williams's jejune, Denison's
irrelevant, we yet learn something of him
from them all ; while the entire moral and
intellectual epiphanies both of the ** Movement"
and the man are portrayed severally by Church
and Ward.

Surveying him calmly by the light of
these, now that his great name and his
enthralling presence have become a memory,
reading too the expositions of himself which
flowed so rapidly from his pen during ten
momentous years, we seem to conceive the
secret at once of his ascendancy and his ship-
wreck. It was unfortunate for himself and
others that he should have reigned without a
rival ; his only opponents on the spot, Faussett,
/ GoKghtly, and the rest, men impares congressi.
^ The magic of his personality, the rhetorical
sweetness of his sermons — he used to say that
he read through JVffl.Ti«fiftl^ ParTc every year,
in order to perfect and preserve his style —
their dialectic vigour, championship of imphcit
faith as against evidential reasoning, contagious
radiance of intense conviction, far more than
the compelling suasion of his arguments and
theories, drew all men after him. Had there
been in Oxford at the time a commanding
representative of hberal theology, with corre-
sponding personal attractiveness, seducing piety.

OBIEL. 186

intellectual equipment, argumentative . ability
and promptitude ; had, for instance, Arnold
been resident through those years at Oriel,
not at Rugby, two camps instead of one would
have been formed, Delphi would have been
answered by Dodona; Lake would not have
been overpowered, Stanley shaken, less by the
convincing proofs than by the imconfronted
monocracy of the magnificent system which
enveloped them ; free play would have been
proffered to the many minds which came re-
gretfully to avow in later life that Newman ex-
ercised a disturbing, not a quickening, influence
on their mental and religious growth. Nay,
who can tell what consequences might not
have issued from the immediate and continued
contact of the two great gladiators themselves ;
how many divergences might have been recon-
ciled by the mutual respect and the recognition
of fundamental community which close collision
must have produced on two so noble natures,
the hurricane of opposing passion hushed by
the still small voice of sympathy which vibrat€«
between all good men. Both had their dis-
abiUties ; both lacked prescience, viewing the
present with a short-sighted intensity which
could not look ahead : if Arnold's con-
stitutional deficiency was unguardedness and
exaggeration, Newman's wa^ impatience and
despair. We see his hmitations clearly now ;
of temper, knowledge, mental discipline, even
piety. We see haste to be despondent in

186 REMINiaOENGES OF OXFORD.

the hero of his valedictory novel, more nakedly
in his letters to his sister, nntU criticism is
disarmed by their a^ony as the crisis be-
comes inevitable. That his secular know-
ledge was limited all his reviews and
essays show; ignorant of German as we know
him to have been, the historic development of
religions reason with its underlying unity of
thought lay outside the narrow philosophical
basis on which were reared his Anglican con-
clusions ; while Arnold was just the man,
inmcem prcehens crura 8agittis, to elucidate,
correct, counterbalance, these flaws in his tem-
perament and system. And if will governed
and narrowed his inteUect, so did impatience
dominate his piety and self -discipline. Austere
in his ideal of Christian life as detached, ascetic,
painful, he saw true discipleship only in organ-
ised and formal self-surrender, such as he found
in the " regulars'' of the Boman Church, but
missed in English Protestantism. A conviction
of his own infaUibihty underlies his whole
mental current; at every succeeding stage
8ecurti8 judicaty non-acceptance of his views is
censurable in individual opponents, theologically
disqualifying to their collective "note of Catho-
licity.'' How far years might aid his aspira-
tion, his dreams pass into realities, his tests of
Churchmanship find fulfilment in Anglican
practice, he would not wait to see. For
Teutonic slowness of apprehension he made no
allowance, confused the dominant instinct of

OBIEL. 187

startled contemporaries with the mature resul-
tant of education and of time. ""Had he
lived to-day,** said to me his old friend Hinds
Howell, who passed away but now, "had he
lived to-day, he would not have deserted his
Church.'* H!ad Heads and Bishops tolerated
"Tract 90*' then, he might have died a Bishop
or a Head; but, as Matthew Arnold sang of
Olough, " he could not wait their passing.**

These are matters of speculation; but it is
curious to note how, as a fact, from the moment
of his secession his commanding influence ceased.
On the Monday morning when he left Manuel
Johnson*s house for Oscott, he died to his old
associates, to the TTniversity, to the public.
He died to his old associates : Bichmond*s
water^lour portrait of him leant against
Pusey*s bookshelves; his marble bust, covered
with a veil — ^whether from dust or from re-
miniscences I never dared to ask — stood in
Keble*s study ; but the three who had been
as one in spiritual kinship met only, after many
years, to find in an evening of restrained and
painful converse that the topics uppermost in
the minds of all were topics all must avoid,
walking in the house of God as adversaries,
not as friends. He died to the University : In-
tellectual and educational changes pursued one
another like surging waves in Oxford ; but
the man who for fifteen years had to all Europe
personated Oxford stood aloof from all, un-
constdted^ uminterposing, because he had fallen

188 LEMINISOENGES OF OXFORD.

into the pit himself had digged, in narrowing
the University from its great national, nay
worldwide, function to the limits of a divinity
school, so that, an aUen in this one particular,
he became an alien in all. And as from his
brethren and from his TJniversity, so from the
public he stood separate. The days of a
Bichelieu or an Alberoni are for ever past ;
but that a Eoman Cardinal may popularise and
exalt his Church while he endears himself by
doing battle in English pubKc life, as a partisan
of moral reform, a pleader for social righteous-
ness, a champion of the oppressed and poor
against individual and class rapacity, was shown
in a series of splendid object lessons by his great
fellow prelate. Once only in the forty years did
Newman win an audience ranging beyond con-
troversiaUsts and divines, in his famous " Apo-
logia,'" which will go down, with Blanco White's
" Autobiography,'' Froude's " Nemesis of Faith,"
and the ** Phases of Faith" of his own brother
Francis, as graphic self-dissections by men at
once acutely and intensely organised of their
innermost mental struggles amid distracting
spiritual perplexities.

To what task, then, in aJl these years did
Newman's powerful and once restless intellect
address itself? No longer to prosclytism, to
BibUcal criticism, to ecclesiastical reform ; he
gave to old Anglican friends who sought him
out, he gave to Stanley in 1864, the impression
of a " wasted life," of f earf ulness in the presence

OBIEIu 189

of advancing religious thought and criticism,
of faded ability to handle questions with which
formeriy he was the first to grapple, of the
piteously recurring cry when looking beyond
the bars of his Oratory cage, " O, my mother !
Why dost thou leave us all day idle in the
market place ?''^ He bent himself, as far as
we can see, to the subjective task of dealing
with his own soul, working out harmony in
his inner nature, gaining certainty as to his
relation towards the TJnseen, security as to his
future acceptance in the indistinct domain
which held his dead Gerontius expectant on
his bed of sorrow. He has long since solved
the riddle. Yet, let us admit that his was
not the highest aim. The salvation of our
own souls, the abstraction of our own natures,
is at best a Buddha view of life and of eternity :
the consumption of self in active work for
others, the disregard of self mounting into
ApostoUc readiness to be "accursed for our
brethren's sake** is the lesson of the life of
Christ. Deep respect is due to the man who
flung away friends, position, influence, in
loyalty to the claim of conscience; deep sym-
pathy with saintliness is an ingredient in all
highly strung spiritual natures ; but our age
more than any calls for a Manning rather than
a Newman, a Mazzini rather than a Gavour,
a Father Damien succouring his Molokai lepers
rather than a Simeon StyUtes battering the

* " Life of Dean Stanley," il 342.

190 BEMINISOENGES OF OXFORD.

gates of heaven, however high his pillar, how-
ever rapt his insight, however vast his prospect.

Of the minora sidera which revolved round
Newman, Charles Marriott, <f)i\cUTaT<y; * ilpeu'qXxov,
was the most notable. Saving every penny
for charitable uses, he dressed like a beggar,
with a veil over his weak eyes in summer
and a dark green shade in winter, draped in
a cloak made of two old M.A. gowns unequally
yoked together. He often took me for walks,
premising always that he had no small talk,
and I must not be offended if he were silent ;
but it was easy to draw him out, and he
would discourse with a kind of dry enthusiasm
on some of his philanthropic schemes — economic,
social, educational. He contributed several
himdred pounds to a co-operative enterprise,
called the "Universal Purveyor." The project
was commercially sound, but engineered by a
sleek French scoundrel called Andre, who went
off with all the money, I met this adventurer
once in Marriott's rooms at breakfast; the
beast gave his host at parting what he called
a *' Christian kiss" on either cheek. He
turned out to be a spy in the pay of Louis
Napoleon. I saw him in his last illness,
visiting him at Bonchurch, with R. F. Wilson,
Keble's curate at Ampfield, Newman's friend
and correspondent. As I entered his room
he eagerly greeted me, and asked me to tell
him the cube root of 1. His brother John

OEIEL. 191

hushed him with a "dear Charles,** and he
became silent, with that queer tightening of
the jaw which some of ns remember well.
But his half - paralysed brain was still active
and his sense of fun acute. A new lodging
house, ugly, comfortless, uninviting, had been
built close by ; the owner asked John Marriott
what he should call it. Charles suggested the
Bedan — it was the time of our repulse before
Sebastopol — " because it would never be taken.*'
Marriott inherited Newman's rooms, Eden
succeeded to his parish. Burgon says of Eden
that he strained his friends* affection by con-
ceit and arrogance, meaning probably that he
now and then rapped Burgon*s knuckles, a
feat which might cover a multitude of sins.
To my recollection he was supremely agreeable
in society. A dinner-party would be assem-
bled in some stiff Professor's house, no con-
vivial water for the feet or ointment for the
head of entering guests. Dons and Donnas
dull and silent in the drawing-room like
Wordsworth*s party in a parlour, when Eden
was announced. In he woidd dart, his droll
hare-lipped face radiant with reaction from a
hard morning's work and with generous pran-
dial expectancy ; would snatch a book from
the table or an ornament from the shelf, as
text for a vagrant cheery disquisition taking
in all the mutes in t\im, till a general thaw
set in, and we went down to a successful
dinner. His manner in church was quaint;

192 BEMINIS0ENGE8 OF OXFOBD.

the matter of his sermons terse and scholarlike,
but the manuscript held close to the candle
and read without pretence of oratory, the
voice coming and going in fitful gusts now
forte now piano. He could not stand coughers :
"If worshippers cannot restrain their coughs,
they would better go out,'' he used to say
in eager, snapping tones. He had a great
horror, too, of casual lookers-in, migrants, who
taste successive churches in turn ; " Eovers
never grow'' was his frequent dictum. He
had a theory that the letter of the Bible carried
sacramental efficacy, that merely to read it to
a worldling or a reprobate would drive out
devils and sow germinating seeds. He tried it
once on poor old Miss Horseman, who was in
his parish and supposed to be near her end.
She told me that he walked into her drawing-
room, said no word, took down and opened
her big Bible, read it to her for half an hour,
and again without farewell departed. He, of
course, succeeded only in alarming and dis-
turbing her; to a chapter of the Bible she
had no objection, but her formal, old-fashioned
breeding was outraged by his unceremonious
aggression. When he left St. Mary's for the
College Uving of Aberford, a large congre-
gation came to hear his farewell sermon,
prepared for an affecting and larmoyant vale-
diction. He preached on some ordinary topic ;
then shut up his sermon case with a snap :
"The volume — of the book — of my ministry

OBIEL. 193

among you — is closed. It is sealed up — and
will be opened at the Judgment Day/'

Of George Anthony Denison — picturesque
and aggravating, eccentric and impracticable,
stormy petrel in every row, at Oxford as at
Eton, during sixty years ; restlessly pugnacious
as a divine, disappointingly irrelevant as a
writer; like Sydney Smith in his estimate of
the Church as a social bulwark, Uke Newman
in his assumption of her historic and spiritual
claims — ^I have a word or two to say. His
Tutorship in 1831 marked the commencement
of Oriel decadence, when Newman, Froude,
and Eobert WUberforce were turned out by
fussy, jealous, meddlesome Hawkins, to make
way for Denison, Dornford, and the junior
Oopleston. As in scholarship so in theology
he was far below the giants of the " Movement " ;
he had neither Newman's fascination of moral
earnestness and hterary style, nor liddon's
later doctrinal enthusiasm, nor Pusey's fathom-
less abyss of learning ; he had not even Henry
of Exeter's versatile faciKty in getting up a
case and working it with a forensic adroitness
which only the initiated could expose. His
force was purely gladiatorial, his motive power
personal ; the side he had adopted, the position
he had taken up, became in his eyes sa^cra-
mental, opposition to it criminal and blas-
phemous. When, in 1863, Pusey proposed a
compromise to end the Jowett strife, Denison
gathered the country clergy in defiance of

N

194 EEMimSCENGES OF OXFORD.

his old chief, ascending the steps of the semi-
circle in the Theatre in order to expound to
us in Latin the causes ''quia discedo ah amicis
meis!" I remember the roar of displeasure
which cut him short, the scream of ''Procacissimi
pueri '* with which he descended, the curious
subsequent mistake, when Chambers, the Proctor,
announced the result of the voting by " Majori
parti placet"; then, blushing and confused,
dashed the exultation of Jowett's friends by
the amended proclamation, ''Majori parti non
placet'' His sermons were minaciously dogmatic,
alienating to large-minded and thoughtful men,
grateful only to the prepossession which prefers
petulant insistence to sweet reasonableness in
argument and appeal. He ruled his clergy
in Somersetshire imperiously ; I always felt
sorry for his bishop. The only man among
them who could stand up to him was Clark
the Vicar of Taunton, a man of temperament
much akin to his Archdeacon's, but apt to
disregard the convenances of gentle breeding
which in all his outbreaks governed Denison,
Agreeable in society he always was ; it was
Stanley's delight to place him at the Deanery
table among men whom he had just been
traducing in the Jerusalem Chamber, and who
found their malignant censor transformed into
a cheery equal, friendly, anecdotic, convivial.
• There are men,'' he would say to you, as,
after viKpending you all the morning, he asked
you to take wine with him at luncheon, " there

ORIEL. 195

are men whose persons I love and whoso
opinions I abhor, and there are men whose
opinions I honour and whose selves I hate/*
And this quality redeemed him ; without it he
would have been a mere firebrand — to some
he seemed so all along ; but those who saw
him in his softer hour — and many such remain,
— those especially who watched him presiding
over his parish water storage and harvest
home convivialities, still send from the railwav
windows as they shoot past Brent Knoll a
benediction, half humorous, half affectionate ;
echo regretfully the Tandem requiescit of Lord
Lyttelton's burlesque epitaph J « Eequiescat,"
they will add, " but not in pace ; peace would
destroy his paradise ! **

Associated ever in my mind with Denison,
not by simiUtude, but by graphic contrast,
is his junior at Oriel by some fourteen years,
Tom Hughes. He came up in 1842 ; men
knew him as an athletic, pleasant fellow,
pulling always in fours and eights, ecKpsed
somewhat by his then more notable brother
George. Between George Hughes and Denison
there were many points of resemblance, but
Tom was everything that Denison was not.
Denison was a Don, Tom was a Bohemian ;
Denison a sacerdotalist in white cravat and
Master's hood, Hughes a humanist in flannel
shirt and shooting jacket. Denison was an
incarnation of lost causes, Hughes the pilot of

* Appendix 0.

196 BEMINI80EN0E8 OF OXFORD.

a beneficent future. Denison rode a painted
rocking-horse to tilt with theological windmills,
Tom rushed to spike the guns of social selfish-
ness, like his own East in the trenches of the
Sutlej forts. The historian of the century,
if he recalls Denison at all, will speak of him
as the high-bred clerical aristocrat, reUc of a
class extinct. He will extol Hughes as pioneer
of a new and ardent realism, shaping itself
to-day under fresh conditions, yet essentially
accordant with his creed ; as labouring to
alleviate the discontent of the many by the
self-sacrifice of the few, to extinguish class
antagonism and bridge social chasm, to replace
an oligarchy of prescriptive privilege, rank,
and wealth, by a nobler timocracv of eminence
in intellectual acquirement and in evangelical
generosity of aim. Even as an undergraduate
Hughes was a "Christian Chartist,'' in full
sympathy with the passionate discontent which
English proletarian misery well justified, yet
holding that the party of upheaval must be
led by men of property and social rank, if
civil war were to be averted by peaceful civic
reconstruction. His Eadicalism, both at Oxford
and elsewhere, was ludicrously composite ;
Colonel Newcome's electoral programme is
hardly a travesty of Hughes : " He was for
having every man to vote, every poor man
to labour short time and get high wages,
every poor curate to be paid double or treble,
every bishop to be docked of his salary and

OBIEL. 197

dismissed from the House of Lords ; but lie
was a staunch admirer of that assembly and
a supporter of the rights of the Crown/' And
this poUtical confusedness was his strength as
a social iconoclast. The unwashed rallied round
a gentleman who was for abolishing the very
rich and very poor, round a Christian who
read Socialism into every page of the New Testa-
ment ; the aristocracy gave ear of necessity to
the well-dressed, well-bred school and University
man, who from their own point of view and
in their own interest preached reform as alter-
native to revolution. So for a time the school
of Maurice, Kingsley, Hughes, shaped the
sentiment and coloured the Uterature of the
country ; until, as from the Chartism of the
Forties was by degrees evolved the Collectivism
of the Eighties, older Radicals shrank back
alarmed before the Demos which they had
nursed complacently in its childhood; when
the great election fight of 1884 raged round
his home in Chester we tried in vain for the
old veteran's voice and presence on our plat-
forms.

Of his books, two alone probably will
live. The " Scouring of the White Horse,"
racy but local, interests those only who are
familiar with that pleasant, sleepy, peaceful
Berkshire vale ; his " Memoirs of a Brother '^
leaves somehow the impression that the mus-
cular representative of the TJflington Hugheses
must have been an oppressively pragmatical

198 REMmiSOENCES OF OXFORD.

hero ; but theme and treatment combine
to make the two "Tom Brown's"' immortal.
I know no more cogent tribute to Arnold's
greatness than that Rugby alone of all public
schools should have earned world-wide celebrity
by an unrivalled biography and an unrivalled
epic, both stamped in every page with his
pre-inspiring impulse, both Ut from the torch
of his Idaean fire. Of Rugby, though not of
Arnold, Hughes was a better interpreter than
Stanley. Dean Lake used to say that Stanley
never was a boy ; he left school as he entered
it, something between girl and man. Hughes
was piierilissimus, boy in virtues and in foibles ;
and as, on the one hand, Stanley could not
delineate the rough-and-tumble life which
moulds nine-tenths of pubhc school boys, could
never have appreciated or described the football
match or the fight with Slogger WiUiams, so,
on the other hand, the tribute which Hughes
pays to Arnold attests that wonderful school-
master's electric influence on unreceptive ordinary
natures such as Brown's and East's, no less
than on the exceptional temperaments of a
Vaughan, a dough, a Stanley. Of course, in
both books Tom is Hughes himself ; Arthur,
according to Rugby tradition, was a boy named
Orlebar ; the " young master " wa& Cotton ;
East in the one book. Hardy in the other, are
probably mere types. And, though continua-
tions are usually disappointing, I should place
"Tom Brown at Oxford" not one whit behind

ORIEL. 199

its predecessor. Becalling the higher fictions
which deal with undergraduate hf e, ** Reginald
Dalton/' "Vincent Eden,*^ ** Peter Priggins/^
"Loss and Gain/' "Verdant Green/' the Oxford
chapter in "Alton Locke,'' the Boniface chapter
in "Pendennis/' I rank "Tom Brown" before
them all for the vigour and the completeness
of its portrayal. Every phase of College life
as it exuberated sixty years ago — ^fast and
slow, tuft and Bible clerk, reading man and
lounger, profligacy and debt, summer term
and Commemoration, boat races, wines, Univer-
sity sermons, passes easily in review, without
Kingsley's hysteria, without Newman's prig-
gishness, without Hewlett's vulgarity, without
Lockhart's stiltedness, without Cuthbert Bede's
burlesque. The New Zealander of a.d. 4000,
visiting the tangled morasses of the Upper
Thames which once were Oxford, the crumbling
chaos of rotting carriages and twisted rails
which once was Rugby, will annotate his monu-
mental work on " Ancient England " with Tom
Brown's pictures of their ruined sites and Tom
Brown's chronicles of their academic humour.
They seem to me somehow memorials of a
life fuller, more varied, more youthful, than is
proved to-day by our golden or our gilded ju-
voniUty. Stagecoaches, postchaises, peashooters
meant more fun than first-class carriages and
railway novels ; boys were " fellows " then,
now, save the mark ! they are " men " ;
imdergraduates who crowded formerly the

200 BEMimSGENGES OF OXFORD.

coflFee rooms of the Old and New Hummmns,
Tavistock, Bedford, melt to-day into a mam-
moth hotel, gravitate after play and supper
to music-halls and casinos, instead of applauding
Herr von Joel or shaking hands with Paddy
Green at Evans\ I am a fogey, to be sure,
and out of date; but, remembering the days
when I rode from Southam to Eugby on the
"Pig and Whistle," or was dropped at the
Mitre by Jack Adams "from the box of the
Eoyal Defiance," the days when Cowley Marsh
was a rush-grown common, and from Magdalen
bridge to Mey there was not a single roadside
house, I feel for those ancient ways and vanished
hours what our present youngsters will may-
hap feel for their own some ten or twelve
lustres hence, and I bless the hand that hae
preserved the verdure of their antiquity with
a pen whose vigour and a heart whose fresh-
ness bids antiquity defiance.

I have travelled far from Oriel; I return
to find Charles Neate on horseback at the
Corpus comer, his face set towards the meet
at Brasenose Wood. He began life as a bar-
rister, but was disbarred for horsewhippmg
Bethell, known later as Lord Westbury, then
as afterwards the bully of the profession, who
had insidted him in court. He was cosmo-
pohtan, at home in Paris, a member of London
clubs, a mighty hunter. He stood for Oxford
City in the Fifties as a Badical, and was elected

OBIEL. 201

but unseated for bribery. While in the House
he became intimate with John Bright. I have
heard him describe their first accost. The
smoking-room was crowded ; Bright sat upon
one chair^ and leaned his arm across the back
of another. Neate asked him if he required
two seats. " Yes, I do ; but 1*11 get you another "
— ^which he did. Neate gave his name, and a
friendship soon sprang up. He brought Bright
down to Oxford ; they came together to a
Congregation, where we were voting on some
election. The papers, having been counted by
the Proctors and the result announced, were
burned on a brazier in the room, a custom
long since extinct; Bright expressing his
amused delight — it was before the Ballot —
to fin.d the secret vote enforced in the Univer-
sity of Oxford. Neate was in the Theatre
when Dizzy made his famous "angel'* speech,
at a meeting of the Diocesan Association,
S. Oxon in the chair. " What is the question
now placed before society with a glib assurance
the most astounding ? The question is this —
Is man an ape or an angel ? My lord, I
am on the side of the angels." Neate, in a
deUcious set of Sapphics,^ inclined rather to
range the great posture master on the other side :

Angela quis te similem putaret

Esse, yel divis atavis creatum.

Gum tuas plane referat dolosas

Simius artes ?

Appendix P.

202

CHAPTER Xn.

BALIIOL.

There is a history in all men's lives
Figuring the nature of the times deceased ;
The which observed, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, which in their seeds
And weak beginnings Ue intreasured.

Shakespeare.

Two Masters of Balliol — Jenkyns and Jowett — The One who came
between — The Succession to Scott — Temple and Jowett — Henry
Wall— Dean Lake— "The Serpent "—Lake on Arnold— Jowett
and Dr. Johnson — Obiter Dicta — A Conversation — Jowett's
unfamiliarity with Natural Science.

FOR elderly men of to-day the term "Master
of Balliol '" conjures up two visions. They
think of Jenkyns in the Thirties and Forties
of Jowett in the Seventies and Eighties ;
they do not think of Scott, who came between.
Overlaid, enveloped, ecUpsed by the two lu-
minaries who "went behind him and before,*^
he somehow drops out of sight; his reign is
B^ intervention, and is remembered only with
an effort. His was a career of early promise
unusual, but unftdfilled. He came from
Shrewsbury to Oxford as the best of Butler's
pupils, won the Craven and Ireland and the
Latin Essay, was First Class man and Fellow
of Balliol. His notes to the " TJniomachia ** and

BALLIOL. 203

his Homerics on the Chancellorship showed
rare aptness and resource in the exceptional
feUcities of Greek and Latin scholarship. In
1834, the year after his degree, Talboys, the
leading Oxford bookseller, proposed to him to
xmdertake the translation of Passow's German-
Greek Lexicon ; he consented on condition that
with him Liddell might be associated. The
Lexicon appeared in 1843 ; his share in it
cannot be known ; the feeling which rai^ked
him below Liddell in its construction was
expressed in anecdote and epigram.^ He retired
to a College Uving ; and the later editions,
changing a tentative into a masterpiece, owed
most of their excellence to Liddell, whose desire
for its linguistic revisal by Max MuUer was
foiled by Scott's apathy or opposition. Li
1854 the old Master died, the College was
divided as to his successor. The senior Fellows
wished for Temple, an equal number of the
juniors wished for Jowett ; James Eiddell
wanted Scott, but would vote for Jowett rather
than for Temple. So at the last moment
Temple's supporters threw him over for Scott,
securing Kiddell's vote. For ten years he was
a mere obstructive, wielding his numerical
ascendancy to crush all Jowett's schemes of
reform. " Your Head," said Jowett to a Fellow

^ Two men wrote a Lexicon, Liddell and Scott ;
One half was clever, one half was not.
Give me the answer, boys, qtdck, to this riddle,
Which was by Scott, and which was by Liddell ?

— Hare's "Story of My Life"

204 BEMINISOENGES OF OXFORD.

of another College, "seems to be an astute
person, who works by winning confidence ;
here we have a bare struggle for power '' ;
and when, in 1865, successive elections to Fellow-
ships had given Jowett a majority, Scott
became a cypher in the College. Nor was he
influential beyond the walls of BaUiol. Soon
after his appointment he preached a magnifi-
cent University sermon on Dives and Lazarus,
with appHcation of the "five brethren'' episode
to the home ties, feelings, scruples, tenderness
of undergraduates. When he preached agam,
St. Mary's was filled from entrance door to
organ screen ; but the sermon was absolutely dull
— on Hezekiah's Song — nor did he ever again
command an audience ; in his Headship as in
his earUer career he left, as someone says, a
great future behind him. In 1870 Gladstone,
at Lowe's entreaty, appointed him to the
Deanery of Bochester in order to make room
for Jowett, and he descended into decanal
quietude.

Scott's firmest supporter in College had been
Henry Wall, Lecturer and Bursar: he figures
in the " Grand Logic Sweepstakes " as Barbadoes,
having been bom in that island.^ It was he
who led the opposition to Max MuUer for the
" half-a-brick " reason that he was a foreigner.
His intellect was clear, logical, penetrating;
his temper bigoted and arrogant. His lectures,
which as Prselector of Logic he deUvered publicly

^ See p. 237.

BALLIOL. 205

in Balliol Hall to all who chose to bring
the statutory guinea, were cosmic in their
reduction and formularisation of the Aldrich-
Aristotle chaos. Keen-eyed, sharp-nosed, ve-
hement in manner and gesture, he fired oflf
questions as he went along at this or that
student who caught his eye, with joyous ac-
ceptance of a neat response, scornful pounce
on a dull or inattentive answerer. He was
an undesirable dinner guest, starting questions
which he seemed to have prepared beforehand
for the pleasure of showing oflf his dexterity
in word fence, rousing temper, and spoihng
conversational amenities. He was a great
dancer : the waltz of those days was a serious
department of life, "to be wooed with incessant
thought and patient renxmciation of small de-
sires." Readers of "Pelham" — does anyone read
" Pelham " now ? — ^will remember how Lady
Charlotte impressed upon her fashionable son
the moral duty of daily practice, with a chair
if no partner could be obtained ; and to see
Wall's thin legs twinkle in the mazy was a
memorable experience. He was exceedingly
hospitable ; giving dances, sometimes on a
large scale in Wyatt's Booms, oftener at his
snug little house in New Inn HaU Lane, to
the music of old Grimmett's harp and fiddle.
With him lived a stout, florid sister, dressed
in many-coloured garments, a niece whom
pupils knew as " Bet," and a Pomeranian " Fop"
who suflfered many things when his master's

206 BEMimSGENGES OF OXFORD.

back was turned. He was great in charades,
personating now a Eadical mob orator, now
an ancient crone, now a shy, clumsy, gaping
freshman. When well on in years he made
a January and May marriage ; the bachelor
home was recast ; poor Bet had died, Fop had
borne her company to that equal -sky, the
jovial sister subsided into small lodgings over a
baker's shop in Holywell : miscentur Moenia luctu.
CJontemporary with Wall, but more prom-
inent in College work and discipline, and
dying at a great age only three years ago, was
Dean Lake. I saw him first in 1842, when
Olough, with whom I wa^s reading at the time,
took me to breakfast in his rooms. They
looked into the Quad ; and as we stood at
the window after breakfast he pointed out a
black-haired, smooth-cheeked, ruddy under-
graduate, and said, " Notice that man ; he will
be our Double First this year.'' It was Temple ;
and I went with dough into the Schools to
hear his Yiva Yoce. Lake was kind to me
after that ; one day took me for a walk. We
encountered his doctor in Broad Street, and
they stopped to talk. He was looking wretchedly
ill, red-nosed, pale, and thin, admitted in answer
to questions that he had fasted during Lent ;
and I listened xmnoticed to the wise earnestness
with which the doctor, a man greatly respected
and beloved, urged upon him the duty of
caring for his body as the condition of all
useful work. As a fact, the phase of feeling

BALLIOL. 207

which took shape with him in bodily macera-
tion was a transient one ; he had been bitten
by the Newmania, but he soon, like Goldsmith's
man of Islington, recovered of the bite. He
WM not Uked either as Tutor or as Proctor.
His manner was cold, sarcastic, sneering, and
a certain slyness earned him the nickname of
" Serpent.'' When, in 1849, young Lancaster of
BaUiol, for playfully fastening up and painting
a Tutor's oak, was summoned before a Common
Eoom meeting to receive sentence, the scene
was thus rendered by a forgotten wit : —

Incipit '* JinksJ*

And first out spake "the Master": "The young man must

go down,
And when a twelvemonth has elapsed he may resume his gown."

Lake sequitur.
And the Serpent's brow was calm, and the Serpent's voice was

low;
"Fm sorry, Mr. Lancaster, but really you must go.
The fact has come so clearly before the Tutors' knowledge.
And if we once pass over this, what rules can bind the College ] "

Lancaster respondet.
Then out spake Harry Lancaster, that man of iron pate:
* I know, ye Dons, I must have gone a mucker soon or late ;
But this I say, and swear it too, without or cheek or funk.

The Tutor may have been screwed up, I'm if / was

drunk."
He left to Mrs. Gk)ddard the packing of his togs.
He paid no ticks, with chums exchanged no farewell dialogues ;
But in a fury flinging down
His academic cap and gown.
And striding madly through the town.
Rushed headlong to the dogs !

208 EEMINI80ENGES OF OXFORD.

To return to Jowett, it is curious that there are
two other renderings of the well-known verse
in "The Masque of BaQiol":

First come I : my name is Jowett :
Whatever can be known I know it.
I am the Master of the College :
What I know not is not knowledge.

The stanza recalls a saying of Madame de Stael :
** Monsieur, je comprends tout ce qui mSrite
d'etre compris ; ce que je ne comprends n^est
rienJ' Much the same thing is said^ more
pungently, in a German epigram —

Gott weiss viel;
Doch mehr der Heir Professor :

Gott weiss alles !
Doch er — alles besser.

Lake bore, for strictly Balliol consumption,
another playful sobriquet, an obvious degra-
dation of his name. Walking one day with
John Conington, he said, ** Do you know,
Oonington, that the men call you the Sick
Vulture ? '' Conington turned on him his
blank, pallid moon-face, and said, " Do you
know, Lake, that the men call you Puddle ? "
There is of the retort yet another rendering,
which I cannot bring myseW to write. In
1858 he took the College living of Hxmtspill,
then a very valuable incumbency, but a se-
cluded, unhealthy, stagnant village in the Bristol
Channel marshes. He was not the man to spend
there much of his time : he kept a capable curate,
a muscular Christian he half admiringly, half

r

BALLIOL. 209

contemptuously, called him; and lived mostly
in London, enjoying club life at the Athenaeum,
and labouring for a long time on the Duke
of ^Newcastle's Education Commission. I re-
member standing with him at the Highbridge
Station, when one • of his principal farmers
came up and said, " We don't see much of
you at Hxmtspill, Mr. Lake/' " You may depend
upon it," said the faithful herdman, " that you
won't see more of me than I can help." He
was one of the most active members of the
Commission, supporting the large recommen-
dations which, novel and startling at the time,
were all eventually embodied in Mr. Forster's
Act. He told me that the secretary, Mtzjames
Stephen, a man in the habit of riding rough-
shod over his fellows, tried to dominate and
bully the Commissioners. They deputed to
Lake the task of extinguishing him, and in
rebuke to some instance of xmwarrantable
interference he went across to the secretary
and explained to him with serpentine grace
that he was intruding on their prerogative
and must confine himself to his proper function.
The hint was taken perforce ; but one of the
reporters said afterwards to Lake, "The ex-
pression of Mr. Stephens' countenance when
you spoke to him, sir, was truly diabolical."
I saw a good deal of him during his visits to
Huntspill. He attended educational meetings
in which I was interested, an animated, nay
violent speaker: arms and coat-tails flew about
o

210 BEMINI8CENGE8 OF OXFORD.

while he strode hither and thither : for his
after-dinner orations we used to clear out of
his way the wineglasses and other unstable ap-
purtenances of dessert. Of clerical assemblies
he fought shy. Posing at that time as an
advanced Liberal and a Broad Churchman, his
plea for unfettered admission of Nonconformists
to our schools, and his denunciation of Bishop
Gray, just then tramping Somersetshire in his
crusade against Colenso, gave deep offence to
Philistia. He would have liked, I think, to be
Begins Professor of Divinity, and was bitterly
savage, as were many more, at Payne Smith's
appointment. Lord Palmerston consulted Jeune ;
and Jeune, who while solitary as Vice-Ghancellor
in the Long Vacation had seen much of Smith,
then a sub-Ubrarian at the Bodleian, was im-
pressed by his Oriental erudition and his views
on Messianic prophecy, and named him at once.
I daresay the Chair lost nothing by his occu-
pancy rather than by Lake's, who was but an
amateur theologian.

He stayed in my house more than once,
full always of interesting talk. He gave us
one evening a minute description of Dr. Arnold's
death. He was a guest in the School House
at the time ; the five yoimger children had
gone to Fox How, and all were to follow in a
day or two, when the school should have broken
up. He, the Doctor and I think Matthew,
strolled till dusk on the Sunday evening in
the Head Master's garden overlooking the

J

BALLIOL. 211

School Close. Their talk was of the New
Testament writers, and he recalled the almost
angry vehemence with which Arnold resented
from one of them a preference of St. Paul to
St. John. The great Head Master died early-
next morning, and Lake went down to Fox
How with the tidings. He dwelt on the pathos
of the journey, the beauty of the Rothay
Valley as he drove along it from the head of
Windermere in the early summer dawn, the
exquisite peacefulness of the tree-shaded home.
It was Arnold's forty-seventh birthday, and
the children had prepared to celebrate it : they
were waked instead to learn the news, and
went back with Lake to see their father's face
in death. He went on to talk of his old
master, depreciating the value of his influence.
Electric and overpowering, it was, he said,
more than hays^ nature could stand ; coming
on them prematurely, infusing priggishness
rather than principle. " Halford Vaughan once
agreed with me that it took five years to
recover from the mental and moral distortion
which it involved." One trait of character,
said to have been strongly marked at Oxford,
we noticed in him more than once, a sort of
superior tuft-hunting : not, of course, the vulgar
deference to social rank and wealth, but a
rather too exclusive pursuit of and attention
to the man of highest note in any company.
I met him once at a large dinner-parly. He
found me alone when he entered, and began

212 BEMINI8GENGES OF OXFORD.

to talk; presently the Head Master of Win-
chester was announced, and for him Lake
naturally left me. But on the arrival of
Eothen Kinglake the Head Master found him-
self deserted ; and when the party was joined
by Temple, then in the splendour of his pre-
episcopal repute, Eothen in his turn was dropped.
Of course, we the rejected ones, combining on
the common ground of supersession, discussed
our friend^s peculiarity with good-humoured
pungency. A prolonged, and as we all supposed
a confirmed, bachelor, he was sensitive to the
presence of women; kind, bland, and beaming
towards them as he was not towards men.
He described scornfully the dull dinners of a
Cabinet Minister who gave men's parties only,
excluding his charming wife. "He ought to
understand that most men would rather have
his wife's company than his own ; I know 1
would." Of his decanal career, his married
life, his alleged later relapse into the Puseyism
of his youth, I know only from hearsay ; I
never met him after his ascent to Durham.
Beckoning him up from his Oxford ^nd his
Huntspill days, I should say that he was too
self-centred and withdrawn, too aggressively
the superior person, to be popular ; that, win-
ning an undoubtedly high position, his perform-
ance scarcely equalled the expectation men had
formed of him ; that he remained through life
a conspicuous and interesting figure rather
than an effectual and influential force.

BALUOL. 213

Of Jowett I shall not say much. The
" Jowler myths " served their purpose and are
exploded, the facts of his life are told abun-
dantly in the Biography, a book which for my
own part I never open without extracting from
it gold unalloyed. I was so fortunate once as
to meet him in a country house ; in such
retreats he wa^s always at his best, commimi-
cative, receptive, easy. The talk turned on
obscure passages in well-known poems — Tenny-
son's " one clear harp,'' Newman's " those angel
faces" — which their authors when challenged
could not or would not explain. He quoted
Goldsmith and Johnson's colloquy over the
word "slow" in the opening line of "The Tra-
veller." Asked by someone if he meant tardi-
ness of locomotion. Goldsmith said yes. Johnson
interposed, "No, sir, you do not mean tardiness
of locomotion ; you mean that sluggishness of
mind which comes upon a man in soUtude."
He repeated the paragraph exactly, rolling it
out with relish. Our host, his old pupil, told
us afterwards that he believed Jowett knew
his Boswell by heart ; no book oftener on his
Ups or pen. We passed to the " base Judsean "
in " Othello." " Herod and Mariamne," Barabas
and his daughter in the " Jew of Malta," were
proposed as illustrations. The last interested
him much, and he asked many questions about
the play, which he seemed not to have read ;
but next morning he said, " I have been thinking
it over ; it can only mean the Jewish nation

214 BEMINI80ENGE8 OF OXFORD.

and Ohrist." Bte went on to condemn Ger-
vinus' Commentary, but found we were all
against him. A lady asked him whether
Bishop Butler's saying is sound, that, in general
no part of our time is more idly spent than
the time spent in reading. He roused him
self to utter very emphatically, "No." "Mr
Pattison says so." " Mr. Pattison would make
all reading difficult, he would have it so perfect
and accurate." " Yet one sits at the feet of a
great man." " You would not give up your
common-sense, if you do sit at a great man's
feet." She asked his opinion of Greg. He
spoke admiringly of his " Enigmas " ; went on
to describe him as a most curious Uttle man,
aged seventy, just married, Ukely to be always
weighing his wife's qualities and to molest her
when he found them wanting. Then we dis-
cussed old Oxonians. He spoke with absolute
reverence of Arnold. Pusey, he thought, had
deteriorated ; once innocent and a saint, he
had become " cunning and almost worldly."
Temple, too, had suffered from episcopacy. He
pronounced the best Oxford Colleges — it was
in 1874 — to be BaUiol, N^ew College, University,
Trinity, Lincoln. He withdrew after breakfast
to his Plato, but we had a long walk on Exmoor
in the afternoon. As we sate on the hillside,
watching the " shadowy main dim-tiated," along
which wounded Arthur was borne by weeping
queens in dusky barge to AviUon, the blue Atlantic
water of the incoming tide pushing itself in great

BALLIOL. 215

wedges up the brown Severn sea, I picked up and
showed Mm a chunk of old red sandstone at
my feet, flecked with minute white spots, which
under my Ooddington lens became lichens ex-
quisite in shape and chasing. I recall his almost
childlike amazement and deUght, his regretful
confession that to his mind all natural science
was a blank, wisdom at one entrance quite
shut out. He had, in fact, several times, with
a hankering after the unknown, attended
meetings of the British Association. In one
of these an amusiag incident occurred. The
meeting was at Durham : the fathers of the
Cathedral looked askance at the sages in their
midst, appointed HandeFs " What tho^ I trace ^
as a significant anthem for the Sunday service,
and put up as preacher a Dr. Evans, Greek
Professor, a man hostile to everything new.
He had prepared a violent sermon against
"Essays ieind Reviews,^' but his heart failed him
when on entering the Cathedral he spied Jowett's
white head in a staU. It is one thmg to
anatomise a book, quite another to vivisect its
author, and Evans shrank from the operation.
What was to be done ? There was present
in his place a certain Canon and Archdeacon
Bland, who was known to carry a sermon in
his pocket wherever he might be. To him
was sent a hurried message, and he calmly
preached his inappropriate but harmless pocket-
ful. Jowett was not told of the incident, but
remarked upon the badness of the sermon.

216

CHAPTEB Xm.

PATTISON, THOMSON, GOULBUEN, WILLIAM SEWELL.

Hast thou seen higher, holier things than these,
And therefore must to these refuse thy hearth
With the true Best, alack, how ill agrees

That hest that thou wouldst choose.
The Summum Pulchrum rests in heaven ahove;

Do thou as best thou may'st, thy duty do :

Amid the things allowed thee Uve and love;

Some day thou shalt it view.

Clough.

A Contrast to Jowett — ^Mark Pattison's Character and Career — ^A
Sceptic — And a CJynic — Omni-erudition — His Talk of Books —
The Optimist and the Pessimist — Archbishop Thomson — Provost
of Queen's — Oxford Preachers— Early Recollections — Denison
— Hamilton — Adams — Goulbum — Groulbum at Rugby — A
Medieval Saint — Dean of Norwich — William Sewell — ^More
Puseyite than Pusey — His Emotional Theology— His Quaint
Lectures — His Translation of Horace — An Epidemic of High
Church Novelettes -" Amy Herbert "— " Hawkstone "—St
Columba's College — Singleton -Radley.

FROM Jowett to Mark Pattison is a transi-
tion popular but xmpliilosopliic : to bracket
the two men, as is often done, shows super-
ficial knowledge of both. Both, no doubt, were
clergymen, both missed disappointingly and
afterwards exultingly obtained the Headship of
their Colleges, both wrote in "Essays and Re-
views." Behind these accidents are hfe equip-
ment, experiences, characters, temperaments,
standing m phenomenal contrast. Pattison's

PATTISON, THOMSON, GOULBUBN, 8EWELL, 217

mind was the more comprehensive, instructed,
idealistic, its evolution as intermittent and self-
torturing as Jowett's was continuous and
tranquil. Pattison's life, in its abrupt pre-
cipitations and untoward straits, resembled the
mountain brook of Wordsworth's solitary ;
Jowett's floated even, strong, and full, from
the winning of the Balliol scholarship by the
little white-haired lad with shrill voice and
cherub face, until the Sunday afternoon at
Headley Park, when the old man, shrill, white-
haired, and cherubic still, bade " farewell to the
College,'' turned his face to the wall, and died.
To a College whose tutors were inefl&cient
and its scholars healthy animals Pattison
carried at eighteen years old a mass of un-
digested reading, an intelligence half awakened,
a morbid self-consciousness, a total want of the
propriety and tact which a public school instils,
but in which home training usually fails.
Slowly there dawned in him the idea of in-
tellectual life, the desire to amass learning for
the rapture of acquiring it ; and to his mental
development, with all its aberrations, this idea
gave lasting unity. It was broken for a time
by Newman's influence, which swept him into
the Tractarian whirlpool, arrested the growth
of his understanding, diverted him from scholar-
ship to theology ; the reaction which followed
Newman's flight told on him with correspond-
ing force. He became a College Tutor
and Examiner in the Schools, threw himself

218 BEMINIS0EN0E8 OF OXFORD.

zealously into academic discipline and teaching,
recovered the bodily health which High Church
atofjuiTucrf yufivaa-la had impaired ; was useful
and ambitious and happy. The Headship of
Lincoln fell vacant, and all looked to see him
fill it — all except a torpid and obstructive
minority amongst the Fellows, ajBfronted by
the energy which put their somnolence to
shame. Their intrigues succeeded, and he was
defeated by a man of the lowest type — ^"'a
mere ruffian," Pattison calls him with equal
impropriety and truth — under whom the College
sank at once in prowess, tone, repute; and
Pattison, broken-hearted, resigned his Tutorship.
Somewhat restored by two years of rambling,
fishmg, foreign travel, but an altered and
embittered man, vindictive, melancholy, taci-
turn, he fell back on his old ideal of life — the
life of the student pure and simple,* with no
view to Uterary success, but, a» before, for
the joy which study brings. Thenceforth for
thirty years, with one brief interruption, his
life flowed in this single channel. He Uved
among his books, used his Headship, when it
came to him, less in the interests of the College
than to enlarge his Kbrary and his leisure ;
produced his monumental " Casaubon," outcome
of twenty-five years' reading ; flung off from
his workshop the chips now mortised into
his collected Essays ; died, multa gemens, as
for his reft library, so most of all for this,
that his **Life of Scaliger,'' conceived and

PATTI80N, THOMSON, GOULBUBN, 8EWELL. 219

shaped in memory and notes, must pass with
him into the land where all things are forgotten.
Such a life must needs write wrinkles, not
only on cheek and brow, but on heart and
brain : it left its mark on Pattison's. It
left him sceptic. Puritanism, Anglicanism,
GathoKcism, had successively widened his re-
ligious conceptions, each in turn falling from
him like a worn-out garment, till he became
Pantheist on the positive side, negatively
Agnostic. Religion he esteemed as a good
servant but a bad master; the idea of Deity,
he told one of his querists, was " defaecated
to a pure transparency." Faith he defined
as " behef in the unproved " ; and what he
could not prove that he would not believe.
This discrepancy between esoteric conviction
and professional status troubled him not at
all. He acknowledged to Thorold Rogers, who
had abandoned the AngKcan ministry, his own
disbelief in what those who hold them call the
fundamental verities of Christianity; but said
that as a young man he had adopted in good
faith the doctrines of the English Church, had
shaped his life to meet its demands, was too
old now to make a change injurious to him-
self. It left him cvnical. He declined to
acknowledge the obligation of self-sacrifice ;
pronounced Montaigne's dictum, that to aban-
don self-enjoyment in order to serve others is
unnatural and wrong, "a refreshing passage"';
quoted with approval Goethe's paradox, " I

220 BEMINI8GENCES OF OXFORD.

know not myself, and God forbid I ever should.''
In his sister Dora's heroism, which, in spite
of Miss Londsale's book, all England honoured,
he saw only self-glorification and misdirected
energy. He lectured once at Birmingham
while she was combating small-pox at Walsall :
she came over to greet him, not having seen
him for years. " What Dora ! " was his only
salutation, ** still cutting oj0f Uttle Tommy's
fingers and little Jemmy's toes ? " It left
him pessimist. As student of history and
politics he had seen one after another millen-
nium prevented by the thwarting Spirit which,
scBvo Icsta negotioy loves unweariedly to spite
humanity: Hellenic civilisation in one century,
" New Learning " in another, political reform in
his younger days, social emancipation in his ma-
turity. He refused to believe in the progressive
happiness of mankind, and laughed to scorn
the amiable Tennysonian commonplace that
good will be the final end of ill. It left
him, happily, as it found him, a devotee of
knowledge. He was as nearly omni-erudite
as man can be in omni-parient days : one
who knew him well said of him that you may
dig into any portion of his mind with certainty
of turning up a nugget. In the book-lined
gallery which opened out of his drawing-room
he would sit or stand, in the short morning
coat which he affected as a dinner dress, the
centre of a group of guests, picked men from
many walks of thought, scientist, aesthetic.

PATTI80N, THOMSON, GOULBURK, 8EWELL, 221

literary : as each proffered his own patented
topic Pattison would take it up and handle
it with swift, clear, exhaustive analysis, ending
always with an apologetic, "But, you know,
it's not my subject."

What was his subject ? He ranked specially
as an expert in moral philosophy, examining
therein at one time for the India Civil Service.
I asked him once about the relative merits of the
candidates as belonging to different "Universities.
He said that the Oxford man, in shirt front, finger
nails, costume generally, was a thing of beauty
— and knew nothing ; the Cantab, shghtly
dingy — and knew something ; the Caledonian
knew little about moral philosophy, much
about the Scotchmen who had handled it ;
the Dublin man was a boor in externals,
but knew everything. Yet no one would
venture to limit his speciaUty to philosophy.
Apart from literature and philology, fresh
chambers were ever opening to one's quest
in the basement no less than in the higher
storeys of his mind. He had a Yorkshireman's
love of horses, and cared to know who won
the Derby. He narrowly missed the champion-
ship of croquet, and could diagnose the mental
bias of the players round him by their methods
and tactics in the game. In country walks
he recognised the note of every bird, and
knew or sought to know the name, habit,
class, of every uncommon plant or hovering
insect. His talk of books was musical in its

222 BEMINI8CENGE8 OF OXFORD.

liuninoiis enthusiasm, and he read aloud the
poetry he loved with rare felicity. As a young
man he had written hymns for some of the
minor Church festivals, but he never enjoyed
religions poetry, and would pitilessly dissect the
^^09 and the diction of the " Christian Year/'
He cared little for Tennyson or Browning,
though he joined the Browning Society, and
once gave a characteristic address on " James
Lee's Wife/' Towards Milton he felt as a
scholiast rather than as a worshipper. Pope
always appealed to him ; he recited his poetry
with a relishing ccesuric swing, was proud of
his own commentary on the " Essay," furious
at a stereotyped error in the notes which
made him quote Milton's "Hymn on the
Nativity" as "Ode to Nature." He greatly
enjoyed Wordsworth in what he called his
higher mood ; moral, that is, not lyrical or
romantic. Amongst classic writers he placed
iEschylus as unapproachable. Anna Swanwick
used to relate that she was reading alone in
her drawing-room late one night, when there
came a ring at the bell and Pattison walked
in. " What is the finest poem in the world ? "
She hesitated. He answered, "The Agamem-
non"; turned on his heel, and disappeared.
His favourite Latin poet was Virgil ; Gray,
and perhaps Collins, he pronounced to be the
only English poets rivalling the artistic melody
of the Augustan age : he loved to read aloud
the *' Progress of Poesy," as the finest classical

PATTI80N, THOMSON, OOULBUBN, 8EWELL. 223

ode in the language, always throwing away
the book in anger before the copybook bathos
of the closing lines. On his last night alive
he desired to have read to him the "Ode on
Eton College/' commenting as he listened with
all his old aptness, pregnancy, refinement.

But man cannot live by literary enthusiasm
alone ; and in Pattison's scheme of life there
was a fatal flaw — it lacked benevolence, par-
ticipation, sympathy :

He did love Beauty only, Beauty seen
In all varieties of form and mind,
And Knowledge for its beauty;

and slighted Love avenged itself. His history
incarnated the " Palace of Art " ; he built for
himself a godlike life, but a life of godlike
isolation ; and so the unseen hand wrote " Mene,
Mene," on his palace walls, and the fruit which
he plucked so laboriously from the ambrosial
tree turned to an apple of Sodom at the last.
He was, indeed, in all points the antithesis of
Jowett. The one was idealist, the other prac-
tical ; a Cynic the one, while the other was a
Stoic. Pattison brooding, self-centred, morose ;
Jowett sweet-blooded, altruistic, sociable ; Jowett
beamingly optimistic, Pattison pessimist to the
core. To his old friend's deathbed, so the
tale was current at the time, Jowett sent a
farewell message : ^ You have seen so much
good in the world that you may be hopeful
of the future ! " " I have seen so much wrong

224 BEMINISOENOES OF OXFORD.

in the world," snarled Diogenes from his piUow,
" that I have no hope for the future ! *' Sunt
lacrymcB ! Yet let ns remember, while we em-
phasise the contrast, that to make allowance
for the forces which disturb the moral pendulum
— heredity, constitution, temperament, environ-
age — is outside our power and our scope.
Here, as elsewhere, comes in the weighty
"Judge not"" of perfect insight and of perfect
charity, hushing our presumptuous verdict,
alike on the dejected and the buoyant char-
acter, alike on the auspicious and the hapless
life, in the presence of the all-ad justing grave.

The "Essays and Eeviews," with Stanley's
tremendous article in the Edinburgh, provoked
a counterblast of conservative theology, in a
long-forgotten "Aids to Faith," edited by Arch-
bishop Thomson, then Provost of Queen's, who
had himself, amusing to relate, written a paper
which missed insertion in the famous volume
only by being sent in too late. I knew him
as a Fellow long before ; we were both on the
committee of the "Amateur," and worked to-
gether at the programmes. He was an enthu-
siastic musician, with a superb baritone voice ;
no one who heard it will forget his singing
of the " Boar's Head " chant at the Queen's
College Christmas dinner. In his rooms I first
received the idea of what came afterwards to
be called "culture"; his talk and the books
which lay about giving outlook into a wider

FATTI80K, THOMSON, GOULBUBIT, 8EWELL 225

world than had dawned on the ordmary
academic. He was of humble origin, and so
unwise as to be ashamed of it. Educated
imder Butler at Shrewsbury, he came up to
Queen's in 1836, was idle, was plucked for his
little-Go ; recovered himself, and became a
Michel Fellow of Queen's. His line as a Tutor
was philosophy; his "Laws of Thought was
for many years a valued text-book. His Bamp*
ton Lectures on "The Atonement '^ passed into
the limbo retained for these annual apologies
of orthodoxy; but his presentation to All
Saints', Marylebone, enabled him to attract
fashionable crowds, and made him known out-
side the University. During his residence in
College Mr. and Mrs. Skene of Eubislaw, with
their family, came to reside in Oxford. We
had all read our Lockhart, and looked with
deep interest on the white-haired laird, Walter
Scotfs life-long friend, accomplished horseman,
draughtsman, antiquarian, godfather to the
Fourth Canto of "Marmion," to whom Scott
owed the conception of the Jews in " Ivanhoe "
and of '^Quentin Durward." With them was a
middle-aged daughter, who sang Handel finely
and wrote religious novels, and two young
grand-daughters, one pretty, the other clever :
men used to manoeuvre at dinner-parties to
take down the clever sister and sit opposite
the pretty one. This last — the "Greek Slave*
she was called, her mother being a Levantine —

was soon surrounded by admirera; from them
p

226 BEMINI8CENGE8 OF OXFORD.

she selected Thomson, and they were married
on his appointment to the London hving.
In 1855 he was made Provost of Queen's,
after a sharp contest as to the right of Michel
Fellows to take part in the election : a contest
which terminated in his favour, but so exas-
perated the Fellows on the old foundation
that the new Provost was insulted on his first
appearance in the CJommon Boom after Hail.
At Prince Albert's death his name was found
prominent on the list of clergymen whom the
Prince thought deserving of promotion, and
he became at short intervals a Boyal Chaplain,
Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol, Archbishop of
York. The final nomination was said to have
been distasteful to the Queen, who had marked
her old friend Bishop Wilberforce for the see ;
but Lord Palmerston, between whom and the
Bishop there was constant feud, refused to
sanction the appointment, and the Head of the
Church was compelled to give way to the
popular Prime Minister. As Archbishop, Thom-
son hardly fulfilled the expectation which
dictated and accompanied his rapid rise. Un-
popular in London society, it was early underr
stood that he would never succeed to the
higher throne of Canterbury. He preached,
now and again, extraordinarily eloquent ser-
mons : Dean Stanley, and Thompson, after-
wards Master of Trinity, both noted discourses
of his in Westminster Abbey as amongst the
best which they had ever heard, and his rare

PATTISON, THOMSON, GOULBURN, 8EWELL. 211

appearances on public platforms were marked
by addresses of the very highest order ; but
these efforts were isolated and eruptive, so
that, unquestionably in his own time the
ablest prelate on the bench, he left no mark
either on his Church or on the community.
His presence was remarkably imposing, of
great bulk and stature, with massive features,
sonorous delivery, dignified and stately manners.
Imprudently exerting himself when unwell in
a December Ordination, the action of his heart
failed, and he died on Christmas Day, 1890.

I have said nothing of the early parochial
Oxford pulpits. At the opening of the Thirties
Evangehcalism was dominant, trumpeted by a
tremendous Boanerges named Bulteel, whose
powerful but sulphurous sermons filled St
Ebbe's Church. He made a name for himself
outside his squalid parish, attacked the Heads
of Houses for sloth and unfaithfulness in a
violent "University sermon, whose impeachments
they but feebly answered, practised faith healing
successfully in cases where physicians were in
vain, ministered in conventicles, found his
hcence revoked by Bishop Lloyd, whom he
thereupon denounced pubKcly as "an officer
of Antichrist,** built a chapel of his own, and
founded a not long-lived sect of Bulteelites.
Eeviving High Churchism first echoed in St.
Peter's Church, about 1835, from the lips
and practice of Edward Denison and his curate

228 BEMJmSCENCES OF OXFORD.

Walter Kerr Hamilton^ both afterwards Bishops
of Salisbury. I remember the beautifid old
Norman edifice in my boyhood, neglected and
dilapidated : I sate with my mother in a large,
high, square pew, into which we locked our-
selves on entering, and prayed for their most
gra<;ions Majesties King WiUiam and Queen
Adelaide. A lady in the adjacent pew in-
terested me always by turning eastward and
thereby facing us when the Creed was recited ;
it was explained to me that she was "a very
old-fashioned person/' In 1836 the church
was restored (we worshipping the while in
Merton Chapel), an ugly clerk's house in the
churchyard swept away, the vast fanuly pews
abolished, the services improved to a pitch
for that time highly ornate, starveling as it
would seem now. Denison was followed by
Hamilton ; Hamilton by Wilham Adams, author
of the once famous "Allegories''; Adams by
Stewart Bathtirst, who followed Newman to
Bome; he by Edmund Hobhouse, still hving
at a great age, emeritus Bishop of Nelson.
Few churches have ever been so shepherded
in a succession so long unbroken. It was
believed that a particular set of Merton rooms
in which these pastors Uved held an occult
power of episcopal generation ; certainly I have
breakfasted there with three occupants who
afterwards became bishops.

Good men as all these were, yet, with the
exception of Adams, who at his early death left

PATTI80N, THOMSON, QOULBURN, 8EWELL. 229

behind him a volume of touching sermons, none
of them made the drum ecclesiastic musicallv re-
sonant. That distinction was reserved for Goul-
bum in the opening of the Forties. ** 'Obhouse
and 'Ansell are below par/' said Mr. Hounslow,
the Badical grocer in High Street, to a stranger
in quest of Sunday pabulum; "go to 'Olywell
and 'ear Goulbum.'* Always noted as a
preacher, Goidbum was a man rather lovable
than eminent, a man who sank into the
surroundings of the high posts he filled, dis-
charging their duties conscientiously, but affixing
to them no stamp of genius. A Balliol Scholar,
he was intimate with Lake, Stanley, Brodie,
Waldegrave, Golightly; gained a First Class,
and became Fellow of Merton. These laurels
won, he started on a tour with Stanley, which
was terminated by an accident to his leg.
Stanley used to tell how, overhearing from
his bed the physician. Dr. Bruno — Byron's
incapable doctor sixteen years before — express
his fear lest suppuration should set in, the
invalid called out in his mincing tones, ** Sup-
pu-ration — I never heard the word before,
but it exactly expresses what I feel.'' Eescued
from suppuration and from Bruno, he returned
home to take Orders and to become Vicar of
the small Holywell parish. His wife was of
the Aynhoe Oartwright family; he brought
his bride to the pretty Uttle Holywell Cottage,
now swept away, and at once made his mark
as a preacher. Townspeople and undergraduates

230 REMINIS0ENGE8 OF OXFOBD.

swelled his congregations, finding in the frank-
ness, variety, humanism, of his sermons a refresh-
ing contrast to the textiferons platitudes or the
dry formalisms emitted respectively from neigh-
bouring Low or High Church pulpits. Nor was
the absurd strain wanting which ran ever through
his character, actions, talk. Delicious bits of finical
rhetoric, set ojff by his detached, tinkling, mono-
syllabic delivery, come up to me out of the past ;
as when, preaching on the Jews of Berea, he
began, " It may be predicated of the Bereans that
they permitted no extraneous circumstances to
counteract the equipoise of their equanimity '" ;
or when, magnifying the wisdom of Provi-
dential adaptation in nature, he concreted his
illustration by a "min-now,** which Swam so
often into our ken as to be at last greeted
with a general titter. His theology, baldly
Oalvinistic at the outset, was afterwards modi-
fied by contact with Samuel Wilberforce, when
that astute prelate, all things to all men in
his diocese, muzzled his Low Church opponents
— Litton, Hayward Cox, John Hill, and others
— by making their like-minded friend Goulbum
one of his examining chaplains. It culminated
finally in that dexterously balanced Anglican
orthodoxy which, whatever its effect upon
their intellectual expansion, earns for its doc-
trinaires the valuable repute of *" soundness,''
and so "not unfrequently leads to positions
of considerable emolument.'' ^ It led Goulbum

^ Page 129,

PATTISON, THOMSON, QOULBUBN, 8 E WELL, 231

to a post for which he was certainly not suited,
the Headmastership of Rugby. In the com-
petition his rival was Lake, on all grounds a
fitter man. Lake was essentially an educator,
Goulbum restrictedly an evangelist. Lake
represented all the tendencies and traditions
which had made Rugby the first school in
England, Goulbum must inevitably thwart
them : to the Tory trustees who held the
election in their hands, and who later on
appointed Hayman, that was Goulbum's
strongest recommendation. They chose Goul-
bum and rejected Lake, causing Arthur Stanley,
for once in his placable life, to lose his temper
and say hard things.

Goulbum went to Rugby with misgivings,
found the work uncongenial, after eight years re-
signed it with delight. " He was not," writes to
me an old pupil who was in his house and loved
him well, "he was not intended to be a head-
master. He was a mediaeval saint with great
social power ; simplicity itself, with the pomposity
of a D.D. of those times : he used, for instance,
to go out to dinner in his cassock, and never
appeared without it among us boys. He
preached on excellent theses, but loved Latin-
ised expressions : " Let the scintillations of
your wit be like the coruscations of sum-
mer lightning, la!mbent but innocuous.'' He
believed in surprises to attract attention ;
would preach on occasions from the eagle
instead of from the pulpit, would choose as a

232 REMINISCENCES OF OXFOBD.

text "The Xing of Jericho, one; the King
of Ai, one/' and iso on, reading out all the
thirty-one in order ; would oonceiJ a horsewhip
under bis gown in school, and crack it to
help out a pa&sage in Aristophanes. He
seldom knew one boy from another: "Well,
little boy, what do you want?'* passing his
hand over one's head in a fatherly way, but
having forgotten aU the previous interview.
He was fleeced by his servants, who starved
us ; adored personally by Benson, who saw
his goodness ; ridiculed by Bradley, who saw
his failures : Oompton was his relative, and the
first attempt at a science master in the school ;
a good attempt, but badly carried out. When
Goulbum left, he tried to keep out Temple
in favour of Fanshawe from Bedford, but
happily failed. Temple restored discipline by
a system of superannuation. Had it not been
for Tom Evans, Bradley, Benson, as assistant
masters, the teaching would have been as bad
a failure as the discipline. And yet he was
an ideal gentleman and a Christian."

He returned to the field in which he was
an expert, the field of parochial and pastoral
work, at Quebec Chapel and St. John's, Pad-
dington; until he made perhaps the second
blunder of his life by accepting the Deanery
of Norwich. As Dean he found scope for his
preaching power, but was deficient in the
secular and practical side of chapter work. At
this time were written many of his devotional

PATTISON, TM0M80N, GOULBURN, 8EWELL, 233

manuaUi, and by these his name will be re*
membered longest. Once or twice he took
public action ; when Stanley was made Select
Preacher at Oxford he protested by resigning
the similar office which he held ; but the step
left untouched their personal friendship, and
on Stanley's death he preached a funeral
sermon which, since Burgon sternly denoimced
it, was probably in all ways generous and
Christian, He wrote afterwards the Life of
that eccentric divine. Few men have offered
scope so inviting to a biographer— at once
poet, critic, artist, theologian, buffoon, at once
indecently scurrilouB and riotously comic, he
lived and died as if to inspire above all things
a brief and brilliant memoir : but Goulbum
produced two ponderous volumes as unreaxiable
as the " Guicciardini " of Macaulay's anecdote.
After a time his deanery palled on him as
his headmastership had done : its quasi^episoopal
rubs and worries, exhilarating to a Wilberforce
or a Magee, were to him intolerable; he long
pined to be rid of it, and at last resigned it.
The last pubUc act of his life waa to join with
Denison, Liddon, and a few, a very few, besides,
in a declaration, called forth by "Lux Mundi,"*
on the "Truth of Holy Scripture,'' which,
defiant of Germ«tn exegesis, of geological dis-
covery, of imiversally accepted Darwinism,
restated solemnly, sadly, hel^essly, the aban-
doned theories of unadjusted BibUcaJ criticism.
There is a double pathos in such spectacles,

234 EEMINISGENCES OF OXFORD.

familiar as they are to times of mental change :
pathos in the heartnsickness of the seniors, left
to stand alone in ancient ways, from which
the forces of enlarged conviction have driven
the disciples and the friends who once walked
with them there ; pathos in the half com-
passionate reluctance of the younger men who
break away, galled by the stigma of desertion,
yet submissive to the beckoning of a hand
their elders cannot see. Some of us^ it may
be, can remain apart from and feel sympathy
with both; discerning, from our vantage
ground outside the conflict, that the old paths
and the new, if traversed in obedience to the
prick of conscience and of duty, lead to the
same goal at last.

I come to the last of my Papavera, to
William Sewell, subsequent founder of Radley,
prominent Fellow of Exeter in the Thirties, a
flourishing and conspicuous, yet somehow a
questionable, specimen — ^what botanists call
Papa/cer dvbium — among the poppies of his
day. In fluency of speech, fertility of mind,
fascination of manner, he had no contemporary
rival ; his public teaching, like his private talkj
was ever rousing, persuasive, lofty ; it seemed
that those eloquent lips could open only to
emit godlike sentiments and assert uncom-
promising principles. In truth, they were not
often closed t he was Select Preacher and
Professor of Moral Philosophy; his lectures

FATTISON, THOMSON, GOULBUBN, 8EWELL. 235

on Plato and on Shakespeare filled Exeter
College Hall; while in London, as Whitehall
Preacher, he drew large crowds, amused to
hear leading statesmen of the day denounced
under the names of Herod and Pontius Pilate.
"More Puseyite than Pusey,** his emotional
theology attracted a shallower yet scarcely a
less numerous class than Newman^s inspired
sermons. It seemed that a mitre, or at least
the Headship of his College, must descend upon
so gifted and so popular an aspirant : yet
when old Collier Jones, the MapCKai^^ 'Itavevs
of Scott's verses, died in 1839, Bichards, not
Sewell, was elected ; and, in spite of the
promptings of the Times, whose young chief
Walter had been his pupil, right reverend
Howleys and Blomfields at headquarters were
understood to shake doubtful wigs when his
name was mentioned for promotion. A taint
of superficiality clung to him : " Sewell is very
unreal,'' wrote Newman to Bowden in 1840 ;
"Preaches his dreams" was shrewd Shuttle-
worth's comment on his University sermons ;
" SeweU," said Jowett in 1848, " Sewell, talking
rashly and positively, . . . has gone far
to produce that very doubt and scepticism of
which he himself complains." "How silent
you have been, Jacobson," said he at the end
of a large gathering in his rooms, where, as
usual, he had done all the talking; "you have
not said anything worth listening to." "Nor
heard," was Jacobson's answer.

236 BEinmSOBNOES OF OXFORD.

So through the Fortiea he contmued Tutor of
Ereter— ''exoeseively discursive,'' says Dean Boyle;
^ would oommence a lecture on Aristotle and
end with the Athanasian Creed or the beauties
of Gothic architecture.*' * Sewell's last " formed
the staple of Exeter breakfast parties. I well
remember his cremation of Froude's "Nemesis
of Eaith/' a feat reduced from myth to fact in
Max Muller's ''Auld Lang Syne/' "What is
meant by gold, frankincense, myrrh?" he
propounded on another day. The regulation
answer was given. " Yes ; but shall you under-
stand me il I tell you that they also mean
logic, rhetoric, and metaphysics ? " Many
more I could relate, but ex ungue leonent.
Meanwhile men around him were moving on,
and he marked time : opposed in a once famous
hysterical sermon the erection of the new
Museum ; wrote, under the title of " Lord John
Bussell's Postbag," a series of lampoons, dis-
creditable in their imputations and distortive
of his opponents' motives, against the Univer-
sity Commission. He was to learn that ilSpk
has its nemesis no less than faith: a trans-
lation of the Odes of Horace from his pen
was mercilessly gibbeted in the Edinburgh by
John Oonington, and all England laughed over
a review by C5onybeare of his ** Year's Volume
of Sermons.'' Both articles were, of course,
intentionally punitive ; the second was good-
humoured, and the savagery of the jGlrst was
justifiable. I have not seen the Horace for

FATTI80N, TH0M30N, GOULBUBN, 8EWELL. 237

fifty years, but some of its absurdities still
cling to me. Here is his opening of the
Parentis olim :

If a man upon a time

Ever has with hand of crime

Wrenched his sire's aged neck, I waen

^Tis that he hath eating been

Garlic, deadlier without question

E'en than hemlock : oh digestion

Hard as iron of the reaper !

What is this, that still so deep here,

Keeps turmoiling in my chest 1

We laughed; but I do not think he lost
general repute. He remained the exciting public
lecturer and preacher, the supremely fascinat-
ing talker, the genial and accomplished host;
entertaining in this last capacity the Archaeo-
logical Society in 1860 at a magnificent enter-
tainment, when the Fellows' pretty garden
was illuminated, the great Service tree hung
with coloured lamps, the Distin family per-
forming upon their saxhorns in the HaJl.
Meanwhile his energy had broken out in a new
place. One of the cleyerest of Oxford skits, " The
Grand University Logic Stakes of 1849,*' attributed
to Landon of Magdalen, and academising witii
marvellous dexterity the language of the Turf,
described the "runners*' for the Prselectorship
of Logic in 1839 and 1849. Sewell bears the
stable name of "Gruel,*' so richly descriptive
of his querulous invalid voice and cataplasmic
countenance that it clung to him ever after.

238 BEMINISOENGES OF OXFORD.

Gruel continues tx> make a show in the world, and stands
high in pubUc estimation. He has taken to a noifel line,
in which he has come out rather strong. He appears to
have left the Turf altogether for the present. After a long
season in Ireland^ where, notwithstanding several influential
Backers, he seems to have been a failure, he returned to the
Marquis of Exeter's stables. His lordship stiU drives him
in his four-in-hand, giving him an occasional day's work at
Radley Farm, where he goes to plough and drill on a new
system with an Irish horse called Single-Peeper.

There was in the Forties an epidemic of High
Ohnrch novelettes. Sewell's name appeared as
editor on the title-page of his sister's popular
tales, " Amy Herbert'' and her successors, and
he himself wrote "Hawkstone," a queer, sen-
sational production, but hinting an idea which
had for some time taken possession of his mind —
the establishment of an educational institution
"on a new system," on the lines of our older
public schools, but with minute observance of
Prayer Book rules. The consequence elsewhere
attaching to slowly matured antiquity was here
to be ready made, by sumptuous jB-ttings and
surroundings, academic dress, a collegiate
framework in which the head was to be a
"warden," the assistant masters "fellows."
St. C5olumba's College was opened in 1844 at
Stackallan, in County Meath. Its warden was
Singleton, afterwards head of Radley, its sub-
warden Tripp of Worcester, an enthusiastic,
amiable, not powerfully minded Wykehamist.
It received munificent support from Lord Adare,
from the Primate, from Lord John Beresf ord, and

PATTISON, THOMSON, GOULBURN, SEWELL. 239

from Dr. Todd of T.O.D. ; but friction soon arose,
and the site was moved to Rathfamliam on the
Dublin mountains, where I believe it still sur-
vives. Sewell retired from the enterprise, and in
1847 opened St. Peter's College, Radley, on the
same lines, with Singleton as its first warden.
For this venture large sums were wanted ;
Sewell obtained them by his extraordinary
genius for enlisting the sympathies and picking
the pockets of plutocrats, calling frequently, it
was said, at great merchants' counting-houses
and coming out with weighty cheques. Soon
visitors from Oxford saw cubicled dormitories,
a tastefidly decorated chapel with a fine Flemish
triptych, magnificent carved oak sideboards,
tables, cabinets, and, it must he added, very
few boys.

Warden Singleton, whom I knew inti-
mately, was one of the noblest of men, self-
sacrificing, generous, high-principled, true as
truth itself. From considerable private means
he had given bounteously to both schools,
lending money to Sewell as well. The moral
tone of the boys under his rule was perfect,
their scholarship respectable, they loved him
dearly, he managed economically the current
outlay ; hut the numbers did not rise. His
manners told unfavourablv on Oxford men ;
over a pipe or on board his yacht he was a
genial Irish gentleman, but at the Radley high
table, exalting not his person but his office,
his stem elevation of manner was repellent.

240 BEMINI80EN0ES OF OXFORD.

najscoll, the sub-warden, a half-paj naral cap-
tain, who spoke French and was supposed to
teach it, had no social qualifications. The
assistant masters were gentlemen but not
scholars, for the salaries were very low; the
only first-class man amongst them, Howard of
Lincoln, afterwards Director- General of FubUc
Instruction at Bombay, spent all his time in
plaguing Singleton and agitating for a stronger
brew of college beer; for by the statutes the
** fellows " were independent of and could control
the warden, and three amongst them succeeded
in driving Singleton from his post. They chose
instead of him WrUiam Heathcote of New Col-
lege, who promptly du,imssed the maurrectioiiary
cabal ; but, discoyering after a time the unsound
financial basis of the school, and prevented
from obtaining a proper audit of the accounts
by Sewell's refusal to explain a certain large
and unaccountable deficit, he in his turn threw
up the post. Sewell now perforce took the reins
liimself, with a great name, magnificent con-
ceptions, and a genial aeqtiiescence in Andent
Pistol's motto, ""Base is the slave who pays.**
The school went up with a rush, the ** eight **
rowed at Henley; entertainments were given
on saints' days, the ** college plate'' on the
tables, the senior boy. Bob Bisley, welcoming
the guests in Latin speeches ; Sewell proclaiming
in terms of pious gratitude that the school
was out of debt, at a time when I knew him
to owe Singleton £5,000, and more than sus-

FATTISON, THOMSON, GOULBUBN, 8EWELL. 241

pected far heavier Kabilities behind. In fact,
the splendour, Uke Timon's, " masked an empty
coffer/' The school had never paid; after the
first capital was exhausted reckless purchases
had gone on ; cases of decorative treasures,
including Agra marbles at a guinea a foot,
lay still packed in outhouses as they had arrived,
to be sold for a trifle when the bubble burst ;
heavy loans were obtained, heavier debts heaped
up; boys were taken for six years' payment in
advance at largely reduced fees, which vanished
as soon as they were received. Finally, to
celebrate the opening of a new gymnasium,
which cost somebody £1,600, a Belshazzar feast
was given to all who then or in the past had
been connected with St. Columba's or witn
Eadley. A vast assembly came ; Sewell, in
fidl Doctor's dress of scarlet and black velvet,
welcomed us — as usual, a perfect host. We
sate to a splendid banquet ; Dan Godfrey's
band discoursed sweet music ; 600 lb. of straw-
berries, we were told, covered the tables at
dessert, and all went merry as a marriage bell.
After dinner, not waiting for the concert, as
my wife and I sate expecting our carriage in
an unUghted comer, we saw Hubbard of the
Bank of England, whom I knew to have made
large advances, pacing up and down alone,
with anxious face and corroded brow. *'The
handwriting on the wall," I whispered; and
so it was. The reckless extravagance of that
evening scared him ; a closer inspection of the
Q

242 REMINI8CEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

school affairs revealed secrets of indebtedness
which had been hitherto concealed from him.
Within a few days he seized the place as prin-
cipal creditor, sent Sewell right away, repudiated
all his debts, cancelled the claims of parents
who had paid in advance, sold all unnecessary
splendours, placed in charge Norman, one of
the masters who was highly popular with the
boys, to work the school as his property in
reduction of its dues to him. Sewell came
into Oxford a broken man, then disappeared;
dying, I think at Dover, not till 1874.

243

CHAPTER XrV.

WALK ABOUT ZION

Since all that is not heaven must fade,
Light be the hand of Ruin laid

Upon the home I love :
With lulling spell let soft Decay
Steal on, and spare the giant sway,

The crash of tower and grove.

JvEBLEI*

Venerable Oxford — Ancient Landmarks — The Greyhound — Mother
Jeffs — Mother Louse — Mother George — Mother Goose — The
Angel — Some Old Establishments — The High — Jubber's and
Sadler's — Conviyialities — Changes — ^The Oxford that I love.

THE Psalmist bade his countrymen mark the
towers, bulwarks, palaces of their historic
city in its prime of queenliness, that they
might "tell it to the generations following."
What would the Biblical student give for such
a Hestiagraph to-day ? Many a fragmentary
chapter of Jewish story might be well replaced
by a brief record, contemporary, personal,
picturesque, of the scenes . which are now to
us mere shadow-names : Solomon's Palace and
the Eoyal Tombs, the Tyropoeon megaliths and
the Bakers' Street, the pools of Enrogel, Gihon,
Siloam, the gilded dome of Zion "towering
o'er her marble stairs." Oxford is not, Uke
Jerusalem, a buried city; yet the Oxford of

244 BEMINI80ENCE8 OF OXFORD.

to-day is not the Oxford of the Thirties; ever
and again as I recall events and personages
they need the background and the setting which
enshrined them then, and is now impaired or
swept away. The dreaming spires of the
sweet city show still from the Cumnor or the
Rose Hill heights, as they showed to Matthew
Arnold sixty years ago ; he could not now
go on to say that ^ she Kes steeped in senti-
ment, spreading her gardens to the moonUght,
and whispeiing from her towers the last en-
chantments of the Middle Age,** for the
encroaching nineteenth century has dissolved
that still removed charm. ^ Tram-lines mar
to-day the " pontifical " symmetry of Magdalen
Bridge ; an intruding chasm breaks the perfect
High Street curves ; St. Mary's spire, tapering
from its nest of pinnacles, has been twice
deformed by restoration ; Vanbrugh's quaint
hou^e in Broad Street is sacrificed to a stodgy

^ Let me go back further still, and embalm forgotten lines
from Tom Warton's " Triumph of Isis " :

Ye fretted pinnacles, ye fanes sublime,

Ye towers that wear the mossy vest of time

Ye massy piles of old munificence.

At once the pride of learning and defence ;

Ye cloisters pale, that lengthening on the sight

To contemplation, step by step, invite ;

Ye high-arched walks, where oft the whispers dear

Of harps unseen have swept the poet's ear ;

Ye temples dim, where pious duty pays

Her holy hymns for ever echoing praise ;

Lo ! your loved Isis from the bordering vale

With all a mother's fondness bids you Hail !

WALK ABOUT ZION. 245

Indian Institute ; Christchurch Meadow with
its obstructed riv^r banks tempts me to render
railing for railing ; the Broad Walk veterans
are disarrayed or fallen ; a vulgar and dis-
cordant pile has banished the civil-suited
nymphs of Merton Grove : vigiting extant
Oxford, I should explore the venerable haimts,
seek the ancient Termini^ probe the mouldering
associations of High and Broad, of Iffley Eoad,
and Cowley Marsh, and BuUingdon all in vain,
like Wordsworth's old man wandering in quest
of something. The change had begun . when
Arnold wept over Thyrsis' urn — " In the two
Hinkseys nothing keeps the same"; it is far
more devastating to-day. Let me in this last
paper recover where I can its erased or vanish-
ing landmarks — formcB veneres captare fugaces —
as a setting to the recorded incidents and char-
acters which they should illustrate and frame.

In the early Thirties, then, railroads and
enclosures had not girdled Oxford proper with
a coarse suburban fringe. On the three ap-
proaches to the town, the Henley, Banbury,
Abingdon Eoads, it was cut off, clear as a
walled and gated Jericho, from the adjacent
country. Only St. Clement's, sordid by day,
by night oil-lighted, stretched from Magdalen
Bridge to Harpsichord Eow at the foot of
Headington Hill, where had lately risen the
hideous church known from its shape as the
" Boiled Babbit.'' The old church stood at
the fork of the Headington and Iffley Eoads,

246 REMINI80BN0E8 OF OXFORD.

close to the Cape of Good Hope pubKc-hoiise ;
in it J. H. Newman served his first cnracy
under the octogenarian antiquary John Gutch,
Eegistrar of the University, editor of Anthony
Wood, author of "Collectanea Curiosa/' New-
man in his letters to his sister depicts gratefidly
the valuable assistance rendered by the old
Eector's daughters ; Sarah, the youngest, lived
to her ninetieth year, the most eflEicient visitor
of the poor in Oxford. For the last ten years
she was bedridden ; when I saw her shortly
before her death, in 1882, she told me how
the aged Cardinal, visiting Oxford, had climbed
to her room and sate long beside her bed,
aflFectionately recalling old times and people.
You passed the bridge and tower, the
Physic Garden open on your left; for the
nondescript residence built by Daubeny had not
then risen, and the Professor, Dr. Williams,
lived in the large house facing Eose Lane.
Water-carts were not as yet invented, and in
very dry weather the street was irrigated from
its five or six fire-plugs — we remember Mr.
Bouncer's F.P. 7 ft. — commencing at Magdalen
elms. A sheet of canvas with a wooden frame
was laid across the gutter, and the water
turned on until it swelled into a pool, then
with curious dexterity dashed in all directions
by means of enormous wooden shovels. The
gate of Magdalen was Jacobaean, of debased
style, but more in harmony with the College
than any of its successors ; adjoining it was

TTBIS IElE^?J®2L^ ©i^1ESS.F.A.S.M,A-

Jim^/U'ffj

WALK ABOUT ZION. 247

a remnant of the old Magdalen Hall, used as
the choristers' school, with a modern cottage
inhabited by the College manciple Stephens,
most Waltonian of Oxford anglers, knowing
every spot in Cherwell, Upper Isis, Windrush,
where a skilfidly dropped "gudgin"" would
capture perch or pike. Past the stables, where
Magdalen schoolroom stands, was a vast shabby
inn, the Greyhound. Under one of the trees,
then in the perfection of their stature, sate
always an aged woman. Mother Jejffs, selling
tarts and fruits, last of a famous sisterhood
whose names and effigies survive out of the
hoary past. There was Mother Louse, whose
portrait by Loggan is a prize to print collectors,
the latest woman in England to wear a ruff ;
Mother George, who at more than a hundred
years old would, on payment of a shilling,
, thread a needle without spectacles ; Mother
Goose the flower-seller, pictured by Dighton
in a coloured drawing which I possess ; her
contemporary Nell Batchelor, pie-woman, an
epitaph to whose " piehouse memory "' was
inscribed by a forgotten wit. —

Here under the dust is the mouldering crust

Of Eleanor Batchelor shoven,
Well versed in the art of pie, custard, and tart.

And the lucrative skill of the oven.

When she*d lived long enough, she made her last puff,
A puff by her husband much praised;

Now here she doth lie, and makes a dirt pie.
In the hope that her crust may be raised.

248 BEMmiSCENGES OF OXFORD.

From Coach and Horse Lane to the Angel
stretched a great block of shops, swept awaj
to make room for the new Schools. The
comer house was tenanted by James, a con-
fectioner, cook of Alban Hall, where the tra-
ditional dinner grace ran, "For what James
allows us make us truly thankful '" ; another
exhibited the graceful plaster casts of Guidotti,
an Italian image-seller, with an extremely
handsome EngUsh wife. The Angel was the
fashionable hotel ; the carriages and four of
neighbouring magnates, Dukes of Marlborough
and Buckingham, Lords Macclesfield, Abingdon,
Oamoys, dashed up to it ; there, too, stopped
all day post-chaises, travelling chariots, equi-
pages of bridal couples, coaches from the
eastern road ; all visitors being received at
the hall door by the obsequious manager Mr.
Bishop, in blue tail-coat gilt-buttoned and velvet-
collared, buff waistcoat, light kerseymere pan-
taloons, silk stockings and pumps, a gold eje-
glass pendent from a broad black ribbon ;
and by Wallace, a huge mastiff, who made
friends with every guest. All of it has van-
ished except the spacious coffee-room, which
became Cooper's shop. The Old Bank stood
where now it stands, already some twenty
years old. It was founded by two tradesmen —
Thompson, a gunsmith, and Parsons, a draper,
the latter brother to Dr. Parsons, Master of
BalUol and Bishop of Peterborough. Passing
gallantly through the money panic of 1825,

WALK ABOUT ZION, 249

when Walter Scott was ruined and half the
banks in England broke, it rose into high
repute, obtained the deposits of all the Colleges
and retains probably most of them to-day
under the grandsons of its founders. Close
to it were Vincent^s Eooms, the home of the
Union, whose debates were held in a hall
behind Wyatt's picture shop. In 1835 the
house of Wood, the apothecary, at the entrance
to Skimmery Hall Lane, was translated into
Spiers*, now itself extinct, but for nearly sixty
years inseparable from Oxford life, better served
and more artistic in its merchandise than any
shop in England. Its display of papier m^ch^
and of ceramic ware, surrounding a beautiful
cardboard model of the Martvrs' Memorial,
was one of the features in the 1851 Ex-
hibition.

There were in the High two superior
confectioners, Jubber's and Sadler's, where
white-hatted Christchurch dandies lounged and
ate ices in the afternoons. The principal
tailor was Joy, in a large shop opposite Wad-
ham. He was known as Parson Joy, having
been met in the Long Vacation travelling on
the Continent with his brother, as Captain

and the Rev. Joy. He bequeathed his

book debts to one of his daughters ; they
amounted to £4,000, and she used to say that
every penny was recovered. The two large
booksellers were Talboys, in a handsome pillared
shop opposite St. Peter's Church, and Joseph

250 BEMINI80EN0E8 OF OXFORD.

Parker, in the Turl, whose management of the
Bible Press had converted a heavy debt into
£100,000 of profit, and who had lately made
a hit by publishing two unassundng and
anonymous little volumes, destined, as "The
Christian Year ** — " The Sunday Puzzle "^ Sydney
Smith called it — to achieve unprecedented
popularity. The chief wine merchant was
Latimer, a tall, gentlemanlike, handsome man,
with a fine house on Headington Hill. One
of his stories deserves recital. A county
magnate, notorious for his meanness, had
ordered six dozen of a fine brown sherry,
which he sent back by-and-by, minus one
bottle, with a message that the Duke had
tried the wine and disapproved of it. "Put
it back,'' said Latimer to his cellarer, "and
we'll call it the Duke's wine." Entertaining
a party at luncheon soon after, he narrated
the incident, and proposed that they should
try the wine. Tip came a bottle ; the guests
smelt, tasted, looked at one another, said
nothing, till Latimer's glass was filled. It was
toast and water ; so was the whole binn :
the bottles had been opened, the wine drawn
off, the simpler fluid substituted.

Grossing from the Old Bank into Cat
Street, you might read in large letters on the
All Souls wall "No Bristol Biots," painted
there in 1831. Ten years ago it was still
visible in certain conditions of sunlight. The
squalid cottages in Cat Street had not been

MOTHER OOOSE.

WALK ABOUT ZION. 251

long pulled down, and the Sadcliffe surrounded
with railings. By this last adornment hangs
a tale. The outer walls of Brasenose and
Lincoln exactly touch one another in Brasenose
Lane; you may walk from the Brasenose gate
opposite the Badcliffe to Lincoln gate in
the Turl without taking your hand from the
masonry. It was in the days when, after din-
ner, gentlemen became unsteady in their walk ;
when the joyous closing stave of Magiim's
"Ode to a Bottle of Old Port''—

How blest are the tipplers whose heads can outlive

The effects of four bottles of thee ;
But the next dearest blessing that heaven can give

Is to stagger home muzzy with three —

was quoted with approval and from ex-
perience round many a mahogany tree ; and
it is easy to understand how opportune to a
wine-cheered veteran would be the continuous
support and guidance open to him so long as,
like Pyramus, he should " draw near the wall.*'
A jovial club, the bibulous champions of either
College, dined mutually at Lincoln or at Brase-
nose on a day in alternate weeks, confidingly
hugging the wall as they reeled home from
gate to gate. One night it blew a hurricane,
and as the Brasenose detachment threaded
the opening of the lane just under Bishop
Heber's tree, they were met by so furious a
gust that they lost hold of the wall and were

252 BEMmiSGENGES OF OXFORD.

blown into the open. Struggling in the pitchy
darkness to recover their lost stay, they were
brought up against the unrailed Radcliffe.
Joyously they resumed their progress ; oc-
casional suspicion that the way was long
floated through their muddy brains, but port
wine, deranging reason, leaves faith undisturbed,
and on they went. The night was on the
wane, and at break of day the early coaches
sweeping past beheld a procession of vinous
seniors, cap and gown awry, slowly following
their leader in single file round and round
the EadcKffe. So the railings arose, and re-
petition of the feat became impossible. Inside
Brasenose, in the centre of the Quad, was a
curiosity long since removed : the stone figure
of a man bestriding a prostrate foe, and raising
a mighty jawbone for the death blow. " Cain
and Abel " it was called — " Cain taking A-bel's-
life, his Sunday Paper," was the current joke ;
and undergraduates after wines would clamber
on to the fratricide's shoulder. Mark Pattison
relates how his father, caught there one night
by Tutor Hodson, answered his angry challenge
by a quotation from Aristophanes, and so
Apollo saved him. The Post Office was in
Queen Street, removed afterwards to the comer
of Bear Lane, to be burned down early one
Sunday morning in 1842. I remember the
introduction of the Fourpenny Post in 1839,
followed by the Penny Post in 1840, with
black Queen's head, stamped envelopes having

WALK ABOUT ZION. 253

silken threads let into the paper, or Mulready's
graceful device.

Restored Balliol and Trinity, with the nn-
harmonious appendage to New College Slipe, are
recent alterations. In 1839 the Martyrs' Memo-
rial replaced some decayed old houses, and the
enlargement of St. Mary Magdalen's spoiled a
well-proportioned church. Jacob Ley, the Yicar,
used to say that a sermon as deUvered to the
right or left of a certain pillar near the pulpit
was absolutely inaudible to worshippers on the
corresponding side of it, so that one discourse
symmetrically aimed would serve two Sundays.
The Taylor Buildings came a little later, on
the site of a lofty edifice, once a mansion,
afterw'^ards decayed, and let out in poverty-
stricken tenements. The four colossal female
statues surmounting its eastern side were de-
clared by an imaginative undergraduate to be
eflEigies of the four Miss Ogles, ladies who
lived hard by ; and the myth obtained a more
than humorous acceptance. In St. John's
gardens, sacred to OapabiUty Brown, still grew
a crooked maple tree planted by Archbishop
Laud ; and the lines in the portrait of Charles I.
in the library, inscribing the Psalms of David,
were clearly legible with a magnifying glass.
Houses were nowhere then numbered, and the
names of streets were traditional. Not till
1838 was Coach and Horse Lane nomenclatured
into Merton Street, Magpie Lane into Grove
Street, Skimmery Hall Lane into Oriel Street,

254 EEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

Butcher Row into Queen Street, Pennyfarthing
Lane into Pembroke Street, Pish Street into
St. Aldate's, Titmouse Lane into Castle Street;
while Bridge Street from Magdalen Bridge to
East Gate was incorporated into High Street,
Only Logic Lane, quoted in the Spectator, as
commemorating mediseval combats, not always
of words alone, between Nominalists and
Realists, no one was profane enough to change.
The Parks, so called because the Parliamentary
cannon were planted there in the siege of
Oxford, was a large ploughed field, divided
by a gravel walk, bounded on the west by
market gardens, on the east by a high broad
hedge, beyond which lay the Oherwell meadows ;
a haven to nursemaids and their charge, the
daily constitutional of elderly, inactive Dons.

When the new Museum was opened two
houses sprang up just beyond its northern
Umit, inhabited by Commander Burrows and
Goldwin Smith, hence known as Pass and
Class. They were vaunt-couriers to a tre-
mendous irruption ; to the interminable streets
of villadom, converging insatiably protuberant
upon distant Wolvercot and Summertown. I
cannot frame to pronounce them Oxford ;
but they suggest to me a momentous query.
Nine-tenths of their denizens, I am told, are
married Professors, Tutors, Fellows ; men who
formerly Uved in College, resident and celi-
bate and pastoral. The sheep live there still ;
who shepherds them? Are they successfully

WALK ABOUT ZION. 255

autonomous, or controlled by deputy shepherds
whose own the sheep are not, or a happy
hunting ground for the grim wolf with privy
paw ? The old monastic Oxford has evaporated
into the Ewigkeit ; as I pace the Norham Gar-
dens and the Bradmore Eoad, leafy thorough-
fares of the bewildering New Jerusalem, I
wonder what system has supplanted Zion's,
and with what bearing on discipline and
morals ? I do not prejudge the answer : I
question, like Bassanio, in pure innocence; not
croaking sinistrous from my PyUan ilex. But
as the old glide down the inevitable slope,
their present becomes a Uving over again
the life which has gone before, and the future
takes the shape of a brief lengthening of the
past. To me Oxford, the venerable stones of
which I love as Newman loved the fading
willow leaves in Christchurch Meadow, must
remain cis-paradisean Oxford, Oxford southward
of the Parks, Oxford of the Thirties and the
Forties, the Oxford which in these annal-
istic chronicles I have set myself to recover
and re-people. To Oxonians of to-day they
will appeal perhaps with something of pre-
historic dignity; it may seem suitable that
the fading lineaments of a time so different
from their own should be portrayed by one
well-nigh the last of those who drew from
them the inspiration of his own youthful
dreams and fancies ; and some, at least, among
the young PatrocU who are there beginning

256 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

life will join hands filially and affectionately
across the chasm of three score years with the
time-worn commemorative NESTOR who must
ere long resign it.

SIT FINIS FANDI.

257

APPENDICES.

A.
BRASENOSE ALE.

By Thomas Dunbar, Fellow of Brasenose, and Eeeper of

the Afihmolean Museum.

{See p. 12.)

All ye, who round the buttery hatch
Eager await the opening latch

Our barrels to assail.
Gome, listen, while in pleasing gibe
The rare ingredients I describe

Which float in Brasenose Ale.

Guiltless alike of malt and hop,
Our buttery is a druggist's shop

Where quassia's draughts prevail;
Alum the muddy Uquor clears,
And mimic wormwood's bitter tears

Compose our Brasenose Ale.

All ye who physic have professed.
Sir Kiti and Poticary West,^

Your practice gone bewail !
The burning mouth, the temple's throb,
Sick stomach, and convulsive sob.

Are cured by Brasenose Ale.

1 Sir Kit— Sir Christopher Pegge, p. 60.
« Poticary West, p 62.

R

258 liEMINISGENCEa OF OXFORD.

As poisons other poisons kill,
So, should we with convivial skill

Old Sjmos's^ wine assail,
Or Latimer's immortal tun,
"Herbert" yclept or "Abingdon,"

We're cured by Brasenose Ale.

The fair Gheltenia's opening salt
Must yield to our factitious malt;

What double sconce ^ can fail ?
But, if you want some tonic stuflf.
You readily will find quant : 8u£f :

A gill of Brasenose Ale.

Mysterious as the Sibyl's leaves
The battels are which each receives ;

But, freshmen, cease to rail !
You're fed and physicked; in your bills
Each week is vinegar of squills,

Bark, salts, and Brasenose Ale.

Oh that our Bursar would consent
To give the bottled porter vent,

Porter beloved by Dale ; ^
Smuggled no more by Joey's^ stealth,
It would improve the College health,

WeU scoured by Brasenose Ale.

My muse, a half reluctant prude.

In dudgeon vile George Smith* pursued.

Afraid his verse should fail ;
When next the annual Ode he woos,
May he invoke a different Meux,

T' improve our Brasenose Ale.

' Syms and Laiimer, wine merchants, p. 250.

* A double sconce was a fine for improprieties in Hall ; the culprit
was compelled to drink a gallon of ale.

' Rev. Joseph Dale and Joseph Hodgkinson, Fellows of the CSollege
addicted to Double X.

^ Ho was the College Proctor.

APPENDICES. 259

B.
ODE,

RfiCITED ON THE ANNIVERSARY DINNER OF THE ChESS

Club, by the Laureate, Thomas Dunbar.

{See p. 13.)

From the bright burning lands and rich forests of Ind,

See the form of Gaissa arise;
In the caverns of Brahma no longer confined.

To the shores of fair Europe she flies.

A figure so fair through the region of light

AU natives with wonder survey,
As her varying mantle now darkens with night,

Now beams with the silver of day.

Let Whist, Uke the bat, from such splendour retire,
A splendour too strong for his eyes ;

The Trump and Odd Trick let dull Av'rice admire,
Entrapped by so paltry a prize.

Can Finesse and the Ten-Ace e'er hope to prevail

When Reason opposes her weight.
When inviolate Majesty hangs in the scale,

And Castles yet tremble with fate )

When the bosom of Beauty the throbbing heart meets,

And Caissa's the gay Valentine,
What Chessman, who'd tasted such amorous sweets.

His Mate but with life would resign ?

But 'tis o'er — ^Terebinth ^ the decision approves.

And Whist has contended in vain;
To the Mansion of Hades the Genius removes.

Where he gnaws his own counters in pain.

^ " Terebinth " needs a scholiast ; can " Termagant " be meant ?

260 EEMINI8GEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

On PhiloBophy's brow a new lustre unfolds.
Mild Reason exults in the birth ;

His creation benign Father Tuckwell beholds,
And Steph^ gives the chaplet to Mirth.

C.

HENRY MATTHEWS.

{Note to p. 13.)

Henry Matthews well deserves a notice. His father.
Colonel Matthews, was the owner of a beautiful seat called
Belmont, on the Wye, in Herefordshire, Colonel of Militia
and long M.P. for the county ; a sapUng planted by him
in 1788 is still called Colonel Matthews' oak. In his old
age Henry was wont to attend on him to bed each night,
where as his head settled into the pillow he repeated always
in his Herefordshire dialect the same complacent formula,
" I teU yer — 'Enery — ^I thinks — ^the most comfortablest place
in the world is bed — ^fur — ^there ye forgets all ye're cares."
One of the sons, Charles Skynner Matthews, was the
intimate Cambridge friend of Byron (life by Moore, vol. i.,
p. 125), and was drowned in 1812. Another, Arthur, I
knew well as a Canon of Hereford. Henry was the third.
At Eton he was a reckless madcap, driving tandem
through the town, and once Ughting a bonfire on the floor of
Long Chamber. He became a Fellow of King's; his health
broke down, he travelled, publishing in 1820 his ** Diary of
an Invalid," which reached a fifth edition. In 1821 he
was appointed Advocate Fiscal of Ceylon, married Emma
Blount, of Orleton Manor, Herefordshire, and sailed for India ;
passing through Oxford on his way to Southampton, and
leaving for my father, who was away, a touching letter of
farewell, which I possess. He became Judge in 1827, and died
on May 20th, 1828. His son is the present Lord Uandaff.

^ Steph was Stephens, Fellow and Vice-Principal of Braaenose,
afterwards Rector of Belgrave, near Leicester.

APPENDI0E8. 261

THE LETTER H.

(See p, 66.)

I insert the original for the sake of comparison. Its author-
ship was doubted at the time, and it was assigned to Lord
Byron. Lady Stanley, in her " Early Married Life," gives
Miss Fanshawe's appropriation of it : — " I do give it under
my hand and seal this 12th day of February, 1819, that to the
best of my belief the Enigma of the Letter H was composed,
not by the Right Honourable George Lord Byron, but by
me, Catherine Maria Fanshawe."

'Twas in heaven pronounced — ^it was muttered in heU,

And Echo caught faintly the sound as it fell.

On the confines of earth 'twas permitted to rest,

And the depths of the ocean its presence confessed.

Twill be found in the sphere when 'tis riven asunder,

Be seen in the lightning, and heard in the thunder;

'Twas allotted to man with his earUest breath,

Attends at his birth and awaits him in death.

Presides o'er his happiness, honour, and health,

Is the prop of his house, and the end of his wealth.

In the heaps of the miser 'tis hoarded with care.

But is sure to be lost on his prodigal heir.

It begins every hope, every wish it must bound.

With the husbandman toils, and with monarchs is

crowned.
Without it the soldier, the seaman, may roam.
But woe to the wretch who expels it from home.
In the whispers of conscience its voic6 will be found.
Nor e'en in the whirlwind of passion is drowned :
It will soften the heart, and, though deaf be the ear,
It will make it acutely and instantly hear.
Yet in shade let it rest like a deUcate flower :
Ah ! breathe on it softly — ^it dies in an hour !

262 BEMINI8GENCE8 OF OXFORD.

E.

CHARLES WORDSWORTH.

{See p, 86.)

Epitaph on his Wife, in Winchester Chapel.

I, nimium dilecta, vocat Deus, I, bona nostrse
Pars animse ; moerens altera, disce sequi.

Translated by Lord Derby.

Too dearly loved, thy God hath called thee; go.
Go, thou best portion of this widowed heart:

And thou, poor remnant lingering here in woe,
So learn to follow, as no more to part.

CHARLES WORDSWORTH.
Inscription in the Grimsel Hotel Book.

')(0)p€lv, KaOevSeiv, icrOleiv, iriveiv, iroKtv
j((u>p€lv, " Bafiala^ ay; koKjov " KeKparfkvai,
KOVTOv rptTTifxyp j(€p<rlv oui/coaTpo<f>€w,
rdWicTTi I3d^€iv, TovvofJL €v filSXq) fypcul>€iv,
dfi^p6(f>opov w ra irXjeioTa StHnfyrffieiv Aia,
Toioa^ fiioTO^ ioTL r&v ohonropaDv.

Translated : —

To walk, to sleep, to eat, to drink,
To cry, " How lovely, don't you think 1 "

To wield a six foot alpenstock.
Talk French, write name in Grimsel book.

To curse the rain's incessant pour;
The pleasures these of foreign tour.

APPENDICES. 263

F.
DRAMATIS PERSONjE OF THE "BOTHIE."

{See p. 98.)

Hobbes was certainly Ward Hunt, afterwards First Lord of

the Admiralty.
Lindsay, the " Piper," was F. Johnson of Christchurch, with

some touches of W. H. Davies.
Airlie was probably Deacon of Oriel, who joined Clough's

reading party in the year Mowing.
Arthur Audley was Herbert Fisher of Christchurch, with, say

the Walronds, a touch of Theodore Walrond.
Philip Hewson was Clough himself, with some traits from

Winder of Oriel.
Adam was probably not a portrait, but not unlike Clough.
Hope cannot, I fear, be now identified.

G.
SEPTEM CONTRA CAMUM.

{See p. 114.)

i. Vacant.

ii. Robert Menzies, Uniyersity.
iii. Edward Royds, Brasenose.
iv. William B. Brewster, St. John's.

V. George D. Bourne, Oriel,
vi. John C. Cox, Trinity,
vii. Richard Lowndes, Christchurch.
viii. Oeorge E. Hughes, Oriel.
Coxswain. Arthur T. W. Shadwell, Balliol.

Mr. R. B. Mansfield, author of " The Log of the Water Lily," etc.,
kindly sends me his own account of the race, as given in his '' New
and Old Chips from an Old Block," p. 36. He had pulled in the
boat as Locum Tenens for Royds, who came at the last moment, and
was present at the race. He adds that Fletcher and R. Menzies
certainly, Bourne and Itoyds, he thinks, are still alive.

26^ BEMmiSCENOES OF OXFORD,

FRAGMENTA E CODICE BAROCCIANO.i

(See p. 130.)

'* Insanientem navita Bosphorum."

Tentabo. Horat. Od. Ill,, iv. 30.

EXCUDEBAT W. BAXTER, OXONII.

The origin of tliis clever skit is given on p. 130. Its
charm lies in the dexterous rendering into Homeric Greek
of Oxford names and witticisms.

MoNrruM.

^ o*f Homeru Fragmenta duo, quae in nobilissimo Godice apud Biblio-
}*• ftKm""in tbecam Bodleianam evolvendo nuper detexi, religionis duxi non
the Bo4iei«n. primo quoquc tempore publici juris facere. Auctoris nomen de-
sideratur ; colorem tamen vere Homericum habent. Adjeci
ea qusB inter legendum mihi occurrebant, turn ex aliis auctoribus,
tum e conjectura petita : sed perfunctorie et currente calamo
omnia, ut reliquias vere aureas quam citissime cum eruditis
communicarem.

Dabam Oxonii, Prid. Cal. Grsec. cio . lo . cxx:) . xxxiv.
Imprimatur, Wellington, CanceUarius.

I.— E PROCEMIO, UT VIDETUR.

Mrjviv oetBe Oca <l)0i<TififipoTOV, rj irpoUv^^ev
avhpa^ aptarrjaf; irepX ^otnropov t<f>c fid')(€a0at,
Hdawi he Vv)(i^^y fcai ^Idova<; k\K€')(^[T<ovwi,
^^^^^""^^^^ Mepr&va^i ff erdpov^, KadiBpriv & o<roi afjuf>iv€fiovrai,.

Trj\€7rv\ip T oixova hi Fvarept^, evda KeKevOot 6

3 ^IdovaSi St. John's. c\Kcx/rwvaf, Horn. II. xiii. 686.
5. FvffTfptpf Worcester.

^ Where these jeux d'esprit are in a dead language I hare
appended a translation or short paraphrase.

APPENDICES.

265

Svafiarot avOpanroKnv inr aryvoirj^ aXjeyeivifi,
T0V9 Be Mere^erepov^ epiBi ^whjxe fiSxeadcu.

n.— CATALOGI FRAGMENTUM.

Ev BairiSfp 8* itcdrepOeu Idova^ €KKe)(lTO)va^

Xetfiap iKocfiffae orLx^aiv, KaX Xeip^ro^ SXKo^ 10

fipi0VT€po^, fjL€i^a)v, OTifiapdyrepo^ iv iroXifjLOKrl,

$tWX€09' oh exaTov iroXefiov firjOTCDpe^ eirovro,

TvpJqv apvvfievot ^Apdovplov hnroSa/jLOio'

Mepr&vo^ S' erdpov^, Kparep&v (Tri)(a^ ounrurrouov,
e^Kovra fior}v aryaOo^ Koafirjaev *^EXeio^' 15

arrjae B^arfODV o0i UiyXei&o) ra^avro ^aKarfy&;,

J3 aXXtoXew S' T/yev deo^iv Mi^arayp araXavro^,
Mi^oTtop, 09 /Ufcpo^ fiev h}v Se/JLa^;, aXXa fiaj(^jTrf^'
ovvofia S* l<r)(€v afierpov, aJdea^arov, ovB* ovofuurrov
T^ S' ap Sirovff eKarbv Kin, irhne fieKjcuvoj(lT(ov€^, 20

'^XX' oloKTLV avcura apj^riyeri,^ iarl ^CKLmrri
Toia-tSe ^6^0^ eqv K€<f>d\i] ' ixarbv S' virb T0VT<p
i]p<o€^ KoafirjOeif tS" or/BcoKovra Bopeloi,

8. Mcrc|trcpovs, Exeter.
10. XeTfiapf Wynter, President of St. John's.
12. *lyT\tot, Wintle, Senior Fellow of St. John's.

15. "EXtioSt marshy, Marsham, Warden of Merton.

16. Ilriktiitwy supporters of Peel.

17. M4(rr»p, the Master.

18. oHuofia K .r .Xf the uncouth name Jenkyns.

21. ^iX^inni, Queen Philippa, Foundress of Queen's.

22. *6^os, Fox, Provost of Queen's.

23. Bopcioi, the Scholars and Fellows of Queen's, mostly from
northern counties.

Wynterjfp. 157)
and winUe. a
Don of the
whist, port
win^tSndTory
schooUead St.
John's.

fhb **m»n of
the marshes,'
Dr. Marsham,
leads Merton.

The Master"
leads BaUiol,
small but va-
liant.

Dr. Fox leads
Queen's.

266 EEMINISGENGES OF OXFORD,

Dr.Bridgea leads *AX)C ai vvv, vaiov<nv oaoi Tpla KaTTira KuKurra,

Corpus.

fiptin^ Tf^efJLovev elBa^^ iroXifioio y€<f>vpas, 25

OTfhoiKOVT apiOfi^ KcU airavra^ <f>auy)(ir&vaf;,

'ilXX' oaot ek KadeSpvfv irepl B6<nropov '^yepidovro
(fioKpijv afMf>ii7rovres aTapTnnrov, ov ret peeOpa
^Xidufg^'two -X«/>'^^^*' ^S "lais; (rvfi/SaXKerov ofipifiov vBtop)

mighty lexlca, ^/^/.^ j/»>\^ f ^»j»f/ q/\

leads Christ-^ OtTrvKODTO^ Up COTL, OirjKOtTLOL av €KaaT1]V 60

church. ,r t*. « f / /I

avepe^ e^ofxyevai \CKaxopLcvoi, ftayeaaadaL,
TauTO^opo^ KoafiTfcre, Svco hoKi/)(paKUL iraXKoav
Xc^iKa, Bv(T^daTa-)(ff , oU hafivqai <rr/j^a9 avSp&v
r}potKOVi KpiTLK&v UTTcp OV Si5o 7' uvSpc ISiaOcu
rkaiev arapfivfcroiai irpoo'fim'cun, arnuiTa \vypa 35

ocoL vvv PpoToi eltT, 6 Si /iiv pia TraXXe kcu 0I09.
Dr. Macbride OiS' AiTOiiar/SaXla^ Kkeivrj hoLvwrat ev ^AvXv,

leads Magda- ' * *

len Hall. ^g^^ fiSya <rr}fiaLV(ov apafirjo'ev 6 HapOevoiraio^'
T& S' apa irevTTiKOvS* eXirovro fieXcuvo^lrcDvef;,

Edvea S' av0poyrr(ov '^(aKKivrepa, ')(aKxtyirp6aayn'a, 40

oTrXlra^ fiaaiXrj€<; ixoa/jbeov evOa kcLv €v0a'

Mv/crrjp 2^9 <f>€p€Tat, XoXkov^ heivoio ireKcipov,

{arjfia fipoTOVi lpiho<;, Fopyeiov Kparo^ airoppoa^)

6p6o^ iir iyx^h^f trepl aavpwTTfpa irvTuurdek' 45

T&vSe BLtjKoaioi iroXcfiovBe kul ecxoai, /Scuvov,

24. Tpla KcCinra, C. C. C, Corpus, KaKitrra, referring to a proverb — the
three bad C's — Gappadocians, Cilicians, Cretans.

25. yt^vpast Brydges, President of Corpus.

33. XtKiK^., Suidas and Etymologicon Magnum.

35. i.iuftfiticroia'i, unwinking

38. Tlapdeyowaiot, Macbride. Apdfiria-cv — he was Professor of Arabic.

41. Tt\fi€prhsy Gilbert, Head of Brasenose.

43. M^KTnp Xa\Kovs irtKt&poVf the brazen nose over the gate.

APPENDICES.

267

SvevBil S* ehrofievoi \evKa{t)(pfi,, Zovkvxpheiptp,
errr taav Tjpoawv heicaZe^, hih <f>vko7nv atinjv,
Ilaa&v €K Vvj(&v tff>0c/MTaTot kcU apurroi,
orrjpiKh aelovre^ xapaKoXXui, T€Tpa(f>d\ffpoi. 50

*Ek Be Ka7rrj\jeu)v Kpafii^pio^ &pTO Nioio,
Tov KCLi airo yXjdxrtrtf^ fiiKiTO<; j\vKia)v pkev avSff
rfj irepvaL hrjiioio iravrfyvpet cucpiTOfiv0<p»
fiovvo^ €7}v 8' erdpcDV, iravpo^ re oi Icirero \(w^,

Toif<; Sk Mere^erepov^ 6 MapiXatBrf<; ary I(ov€v<;
fjLeiStocov pKoavpoun irpoadmcurcv imroKOfioLO
KaKKe^aXri^' o<i yff^^ dvh Boinropov dvOvTrarevcov
afcfprrp* e)(€v, *H<f>cuaTov re^dap^rOi Oea-xeXa epyctt
&V rpla /Ur€i/ 'xpva-a, rpLa S' dpyvpirjka rerv/cro,
S&Ke Se Boairopioi^ fiaaCKevaiv 6 KvXKonrohUov 60

iroXKolai vfjeaat koll aarei iravrX dvdtraeiv.
TOW p*h/ aryev iroKepLov^* SXKjov^ S' oXkol KariXeiire
Telj(ea <f>povpovvTa^ xdi iirdX^ia^ oucoSofiovvTa9*
r/p^KTv *yhp TereKeoTO, rh S* fip.urv yvfivov €\el<f>$r). 64

47. Si'cvS/r, Sneyd, Warden of All Souls, noted for his long neck and
corresponding white tie.

51. Kpofi^piost Cramer, Principal of New Inn Hall.

55. MapiXatSris ^Iwvtbs Collier Jones, Rector of Exeter.

58. trKviirrpat the bedePs staves ; he was Vice-chancellor.

60. Kv\\oiro9lc»v, lame-foot, Vulcan.

64. Buildings must have been going on at Exeter, probably the
Turl front.

The following lines about Shuttleworth were apparently
never printed, but handed round in writing with copies of the
printed piece.

^Avhp&v S' ovK tfyelro irepiKKvro^ ^A^toKepxi^'

ary S' dirdvevO erdpaov, 7re<f>ofirffievo^ eXveKa fiirpr)^.

Mr. Sneyd leads
All Souls.

Dr.Cramer leads
New Inn Hall.

55 ^r. CJollier Jones
leads Exeter,
preceded ty
five "Pokers."

Dr. Shuttle-
worth (p.l73),
wiUi his eye
on a bishopric,
stands apart.

268 BE2nNI8CENCE8 OF OXFORD.

I.
OXFORD.i

{Seep.lbO.)

0*er Oxford's halls the dewy hand of night
Sows the still heavens with gems of lustrous light,
Earth sinks to rest, and earthly passions cease,
And all is love, and poesy, and peace.
How soft o'er Wykeham's aisle and Waynflete's tower
Falls the mfld magic of the midnight hour ;
How calm the classic city takes her rest,
Like a hushed infant on its mother's breast !
How pure, how sweet, the moonbeam's silver smile
Serenely sleeps on fair St. Mary's aisle,
And lends each sculptured saint a chastened glow,
Like the calm glory of their Uves below.
Now, stilled the various labours of the day.
Student and Don the drowsy charm obey,
E'en Pusey owns the soft approach of sleep,
Long as his sermons, as his learning deep :
Peacefid he rests from Hebraistic lore,
And finds that calm he gave so oft before.
Lo ! where on peaceful Pembroke beams the moon.
Delusive visions lull the brains of Jeune;
Slowly he finds in sleep's serene surprise
The mitred honours which the world denies;
Dreams of a see from earthly care withdrawn,
'*-* And one long sabbath of eternal lawn.

[Lacuna valde deflenda, sed ne in antiquissimo quidem codice
suppleta.]

See, fresh from Eton sent, the highborn dunce.
So late a boy, now grown a man at once :

' Composed by W. W. Merry, Alfred Blomfield, Charles Bowen, and
J. W. Shepard, aU of BaUiol.

Given to Mr. Madan in 1885 by J. R. King of Oriel, who was
present at the composition, and himsdif contributed a few words. To
Mr. Madan's kindness I owe this copy, and other valuable help.

APPENDICES. 269

Proud, he asserts his new-found liberty,
And slopes in triumph down the astonished High.
Mark the stiff wall of collar at his neck.
More fit to choke the wearer than to deck ;
And the long coat which, dangling at his heels,^
His "bags" of varied colour scarce reveals.
So, when the infant hails the birthday grant
Of gracious grandmother or awful aunt,
Forth from the ark of childhood, one by one,
The peagreen patriarch leads each stalwart son;
O'er Noah's knees descends the garment's hem.
And clothes in sohd folds the shins of Shem»
His Ugneous legs in modesty conceals.
And two stout stumps alone to view reveals.
Pleased with the sight, the infant screams no more.
And groups his great forefathers on the floor;
Sucks piety and paint from broad-brimmed Ham,
But thinks that even Japhet yields to jam.

J.

ON CHANTREY'S CHILDREN IN LICHFIELD

CATHEDRAL.

{See p. 159.)

Osborne Gordon.

*A Moipa a Kpvepa ro) #raXa> iralS^ ^A^pohtni^

rjpwaae' r&v koXmv rk Kopo^ iaff "AiZq,;
^AKKa (TV 7' ^Afiekia, top arfiea fivdov e)(pvaa,

Bd<rK€, fjL€\avT€Lj(fj irpof; So/iov iXdk 0€ov,
Ai^ov B\ & Saifiov, rav KciXhv cuXecra^ ofypav,

ov yap rh^ '^jn/xa^;, ovBe ra aiayucLT ep^et?.
* Ai fiev yap "^vj^a* /jb€Ti/3i]<rav €9 ovpavov ivpvv,

ccojJUiTa S' €v yala vifyperov vttvov e^et.

^ The long ulster-like coats which came in just then (in 1856) are
alluded to.

270 BEMINI8GENGE8 OF OXFORD.

May be thus translated, faithfully, not adequately:

Love's fairest twins cold Fate has rapt from earth :

Death craves each loveliest birth.
Go, thou, whose lore insculps the unpleasing word.

Go to the dark-realmed lord.
Forbid him triumph; — his the power to slay.

Not his to hold the prey.
Their forms unwaking sleep beneath the sod,

Their souk rest aye with God.

I transcribe from a copy given to me at the time of its
composition. In the " Anthologia Oxonensis " is an altered
reading of line 4, Bao**:', t6i, irayKoiray etc 'AiSao lofxov, pro-
bably the latest correction of the author. Both epithets are
finely classical — fiiKavTuxfi Pindaric, vay Koirav Sophoclean.
I append a translation, the best I can render: it is quite
inadequate as transmitting the old-world feeling of the
original, but it is nearly literal. 'AyycX/a, Une 3, I have
taken to mean the sad message of death inscribed in the
sculptured forms. The Dean of Durham thinks that the
somewhat tame last Une (last but one in the translation)
shows inabihty on Gordon's part to "get in" the thought
he had — "the souls rest in heaven, the bodies are immor-
talised in stone."

K.

CARMEN.i

In Theatre Sheldoniano.

NoN REcrrATUM

VII. Die Junh, MDGGCLIII.

{See p, 159, in which the poem is paraphrased.)

Quem Virum aut Heroa lyra vel acri
Tibia sumis celebrare, Clio 1
Scihcet quem te voluere Patres
Hebdomadales.

* By Osborne Gordon ; on the Installation of Lord Derby as
Chancellor.

APPENDICES. 271

Te decet jussum properare carmen,
Ficta nam Phoebus patitur, tuisque
Laudis indignae fidibus canoris
Dedecus aufert.

Jamque dicatur gravis et decorus,
Et sibi constans memoretur idem,
Ble, qui multis superare possit

Protea formis.

Quin et insignem paribus catervam
Laudibus toUas, quibus, heu fatendum,
Ista de nobis hodie paratur
Pompa triumphi.

Plura si tangas, tacuisse velles ;
Yix enim linguse tulit eloquentis
Prsemium, verbis relevare doctus
Prsemia magnis.

Nee magis palmam meruit decoram
Saevus in mitem, nimiumque vincens
Dulce ridentem Samuelis iram
Voce cruenta.1

His tamen constat decus omne nostri,
Hie Duci magno Gomes advocatur,
Talibus flentes premimus tropseis
Grande sepulchrum.

Deditis ergo gravis ille nobis
Partium tristem trahit hue ruinam,
Et rates obstat reparare quassas
Isidis unda.

Gaudeant istis pueri et puellse :
Mente diversa notat, et Theatri
Excipit vani sonitum mahgno
Patria risu.

^ This refers to a passage between Lord Derby and Samuel, Bishop
of Oxford, during a debate on the Canada Clergy Reserves in the
House of Lords. The Bishop advocated their surrender ; " Fiat justitia,
ruat cselum," he said. Provoked by his arguments, and by the
aggravating smile with which he met his own indignant attack,
I^rd Derby quoted the hne from Hamlet, '* A man may smile, and
smile, and be a villain " [see p. 52).

272 JIEMINISGENGES OF OXFORD.

L.
FACSIMILE OF THE "THUNNUS" PAEODY.

{See p. 160.)

In a OONOREGATION to be holden on Saturday, the Slst

instant, at Two o'Clock, the following form of Statute will be

promulgated.

F. JUNIUS,

Vice-Can.
UviTBMXTT Catacombs,
Not. S. ISeo.

PUMmSt UnWeriitati t009.

In Bpitaphio Tbunm in Munoo Aendttnico depositi hac verba

THUNNU8 QUENI VIDES
MENSE JANUARII A. 8. MDCCCLVII
AB HENRICO W. ACLANO TUNC TEMPORIS ANATOMiAE IN AEOE XTI. PRAELECTORE

EX MADEIRA INSULA

OUO HENRICUM a LIDDELL AEDIS XTI. DECANUM

INFIRMA VALETUOINE LABORANTEM DEDUXERAT

PRAETER OMNEM SPEM OXONIAM ADP0RTATU8 EST.

TYNA ENIM NAVE VAPORARIA IN QUA REOIBAT PRAELECTOR

M> SCTL ALBANI PROMONTORIUM IN COMITATU DORSETIAE EJECTA

QUUM IPSE VIX SOSPES E FLUCTIBUS EVASIT,

HIC PtSCIS IN NAVE REl,lCTUS PER VOLUNTATEM NAUTARUM AD TERRAM ADVECTUS EST,

DEINDE IN MUSAEO AEDIS XTI. POSITU8 •
PER ARTEM CAROU ROBERTSON 'BSKEAETEteH.

abrogare, et in eonim locum quae Requuntur Bubrogare : —

THUNNUS QUEM RIDES

MENSE JUNIi A. S. MOCCCLX

AB HENRICO W. ACLAND NUNC TEMPORIS MEOICINAE IN ACAD. OXON. PROFESSORE REQIQ

EX MUSAEO ANATOMICO <

DE QUO HENRICUM G. LIDDELL AEDIS XTL DECANUM

AETERNA MANSUETUDINE PERORANS SEDUXCRAT

PRAETER OMNIUM SPEM OXONIENSIUM HUC AOPORTATUS EST.

ORATIONE ENIM VAPORARIA IN QUA GAUOEBAT PROFESSOR

AO 8CTI ACLANDl GLORIAM IN CONGREGATIONEM OOCTISSIME INJECTA

QUUM MUSAEUM IPSUM VIX SOSPES EX HOSTIBU8 EVASIT,

HAEC AREA lONAVE REFECTA PER SEGNFTATEM MAQISTRORUM AO nNEM PROVEQTA EST,

QUAE IN MEDIO AEOIFICIO POSiTA
PER ARTEM BENJAMINI WOQqWARD iSZUMOPt^

•*"^

APPENDICES. 273

M.
THE STORY OF PHAETHON.

By P. N. Shuttleworth.

{See p, 173.)

Once on a time, so goes the tale,
The driver of a country mail.
One Phoebus, had a hare-brained son,
Called from his uncle Phaethon.
This boy, quite spoilt with over care
As many other children are.
All day, it seems, would cry and sputter
For gingerbread or toast and butter;
And sure no father would deny
Such trifles to so sweet a boy.
But that which rules all earthly things
And coachmen warms as well as kings,
Ambition, soon began to reign
Sole tyrant in this youngster's brain ;
And, as we find in every state
The low will emulate the great.
As ofttimes servants drink and game
Because their lords have done the same.
The boy, now hardly turned of ten,
Would fain be imitating men;
Till what, at last, must youngster do,
But drive the mail a day or two.
In vain with all a father's care
Old Phoebus tries to soothe his heir.
In vain the arduous task explains
To ply the lash and guide the reins.
Tells him the roads are deep and miry.
Old Dobbin's bUnd and Pyeball fiery;
At length he yields, though somewhat loath.
And seals his promise with an oath ;
S

274 REMINISCENCES OF OXFORD.

The oath re-echoing as he sware

Like thunder shook his elbow chair,

Made every rafter tremble o'er him,

And spilt the ale that stood before him.

All then prepared in order due,

The coach brought out, the horses too,

Glad Phaethon with youthful heat

GUmbs up the box and takes his seat.

And, scarce each passenger got in,

Drives boldly off through thick and thin.

Now whether he got on as well

The sequel of my tale will tell :

Scarce gone a mile the horses find

Their wonted driver left behind :

For horses, poets all agree.

Have common sense as well as we :

Nay, Homer tells us they can speak

Not only common sense, but Greek.

In vain our hero, half afraid.

Galls aU his learning to his aid,

And runs his Houyhnhnm jargon through

Just as he'd heard his father do —

As, "Gently Dobbin, Pyeball stay.

Keep back there Bobtail, softly, way ! **

The more he raved and bawled anfl swore.

They pranced and kicked and run the more

Till, driver and themselves to cool.

They lodged all safely in a pool.

Hence then, ye highborn bards, beware.

Nor spin your Pegasus too far,

From Phaethon 's mischance be humble.

Go gently — or the jade will stumble.

P. N. Shuttleworth.
Winchester College, 1800.

APPENDICES. 275

N.
(See p. 181.)

This is said to have been repeated impromptu by Foote in
order to puzzle Macklin, who boasted that he could re-word
any tale after once hearing it : —

** The baker's wife went into the garden for a cabbage leaf to
make an apple pie. A great she bear walking down the street
put its head into the shop : ' What, no soap ] ' So he died,
and she very imprudently married the barber. And there
were present at the wedding the PiccaliUies, the JobliUies, the
Gargulies, and the great Panjandrum himself with the little
round button on the top ; and they all played at Catch-who-
catch-can till the gunpowder ran out of the heels of their boots. **

O.
{See p. 195.)

[Hie tandem invitus requiescit
GEORGIUS ILLE ARCHIDIACONUS DE TAUNTON

Qui vulgo

Georgius sine Dracone

Audiebat,

Amicorum dum vivebat Delicise,

Whiggorum,

Radicalium,

Rationalistarum,

Gladstonophilorum,

Flagrum Indefessum, Acerrimum.

Jb -i

*M^ja*a« ■ ■■

^J

»

z::^ c ^

»V«A >' «

r— ■ "-

Jj^ r '- n

■ ■■■■ ^

n ciEaur.

2*0

APPENDICES.

277

P.
DIZZY AND THE ANGELS.

By Charles Neate.

{Note 1, /?. 201.)

At a meeting of the Oxford Diocesan Society in the Theatre,
November 25th, 1864, Bishop Wilberforce presiding, Mr.
Disraeli said : " What is the question now placed before society
with a gUb assurance the most astounding 1 The question is
this — ^Is man an ape or an angel 1 My lord, I am on the side
of the angels."

Angelo quis te similem putaret
Esse, vel divis atavis creatum,
Cum tuas plane referat dolosus

Simius artes ?

Sive cum palma latitans in alta,
Dente quos frustra tetigit superbo
Dejicit fructus, nuceam proceUam,

Tutus in hostem ;

Sive cum fictse gravitatis ore
Comico torquet dehonesta rictu
Turba quod risu, nimium jocosa,

Plaudat inepto.

Sive (quod monstrum tua novit setas).
Cum furens intus rabie, feroque
Imminens bello, similis dolend

Pectora plangit.

Scilicet verse pietatis ardor
Non tuUt pressis cohibere labris
Fervidam vocem — ^tuus iDe forsan

Credat Apella.

Gredidit certe pius iUe noster
Ore qui blando data verba reddit,
Non prius nobis ita visus esse

Credulus Oxon,

Angel? No, Ape.

Qimbing to tlie
tree-top, and
flinging the
fniit at hiA
enemies.

With feigned
gravity emit-
ting claptrap.

With [feigned
•orrow beat-
ing a gorilla
breast.

He religious and
devout? tell it
to his brother
Jew, Apelles.

Our "Sam"
feigns belief,
but his tongue
isinhissaintlj'
cbe^k,.

278 BEMINISCENGE8 OF OXFORD,

Q.

Facsimile of letter to Charles Girdlestone (" Commentary "
Girdlestone he was called), accompanying a copy of the
"Suggestions for an Association/' written by Palmer of
Worcester, revised by Newman, and corrected by Ogilvie.
Girdlestone, whose answer follows, was a leading Evangelical,
and had recommended Newman as a kindred spirit to his first
curacy at St. Clement's. These two letters are not published
in Mr. Mozley's book. They iUustrate : (1) The wide extent
of Newman's initial propaganda, amongst extreme Low
Churchmen no less than in directions not inevitably hostile
to the movement; (2) the confident, excited temper, and
defiant objurgatory language with which he embarked on his
crusade ; (3) the deep instinct of opposition felt from the first
by weighty theologians of the Clapham School, spreading and
increasing as the Tracts went on, though not culminating
till the pubhcation of Tract 90.

AFFENDI0E8. 279

v>a^ 'i^.^^, .i^-r*a, ^*^^ y/o^pjU^ ^ i^^^ Jt^m^^^/i^o^.J^^

280 BEMINI8CEN0E8 OF OXFORD.

C. GIRDLESTONE'S ANSWER TO J. H. NEWMAN'S

LETTER.

Sedgely Vicarage, Dudley,
Dear Newman, 6th Nov., 1833.

It gives me very great pain indeed to differ so widely
as I fear I do from you in the matter to which your printed
circular and written letter refer. Nor do I like to say no to
your appUcation without assigning one or two of the reasons
which chiefly weigh with me.

1. Your objects are indistinctly defined. "Maintain in-
violate " looks very like to an Anti-Church-ref orm society ;
though your definition goes no further than I should gladly
go with you, being extremely averse to any change which
* involves the denial or suppression of doctrine " (sound doctrine
I conclude you mean) or " a departure," etc., etc. I honestly
assure you I could not be certain whether it is your intent
to promote any change at all, though I guess from the tenour
of the whole paper that almost any change would be counted
innovation.

2. Besides this indistinctness as to your principles, I am at
a loss to understand in what way they are to be practically
appUed : whether the pubUcation of a periodical, the influencing
elections for M.P.'s, the putting yourselves under the direction
of a committee in all matters connected with your first object,
or the mere circulation of tracts.

3. I cannot approve of the feeling which pervades your
document, nor assent to the presumed data on which it proceeds.
The spirit of the times does not appear to me in the same light
as it does to you. And, the worse it is, I am the more desirous
that in the Church at least a good spirit should be cultivated.
Now, this whole paper breathes a censorious, querulous, dis-
contented spirit, a spirit of defiance, unless I am much mistaken,
to the party predominant at present in the State, a spirit which
is the most Ukely of all others to bring the Church into con-
tempt with that party, and, what is worse, a spirit which is

APPENDICES. 281

thoroughly opposite to the Christian rule of overcoming evil
with good.

I have written the more freely because I cannot but think
it new and strange to you to write as you have written about
the Parliament, etc., and I hope you may be disposed to weigh
the grounds on which I have come to conclusions so opposite
to yours. I regard the men at present in power as no worse
Christians than their predecessors, counting no doctrine worse
than that which sacrifices the moraUty of the people on the
shrine of finance and expediency. (See Beer bill, appointment
of Philpotts to be Bishop, defence of the venality of votes in
elections, multiplication of oaths at Custom House, etc., etc.).
I count them to be entitled to our respect because they are in
power ; and, without being as I trust a Vicar of Bray, I cannot
comprehend how you reconcile the names you call the Parlia-
ment with the prayer you daily use for its prosperity. The
many grievous faults which as a Christian I cannot help seeing
in many of their measures (not more than in those of their
predecessors) make me the more anxious to conciliate their
affection to the Church, and through the Church to the Gospel
of Jesus Christ, by manifesting in our poUtico-ecdesiastical
conduct that zeal against abuses, that self-denial, humiUty, and
charity, which we preach up in private life.

And, lastly, I have hope that much good will come of their
schemes for Church reform, even if ill meant by them (which
I trust they were not), for I count as the greatest enemies of
the Church, even those to whom her present perils will hereafter
be ascribed, the men who have winked at every scandalous
abuse and resisted every attempt at reasonable amendment.^
There now ! I take out the word " reform," for fear you should
disUke it, though the root was thought a good one at the time
of the Reformation. But call it amendment. Who for a word
would quarrel with a friend ? Not I, if I could help it. And
earnestly I hope that you will not quarrel with me for this letter.
I do not think you will, or I should scarcely have said so much.
Yet some whom I used to know well, and stiU love as well as

* Altered from " moderate reform.*

282 REMINISCENCES OF OXFOEL.

ever, look now askance when they meet me in their path,
for no other reason that I know of than that I thought ten
pound voters better than close boroughs, and have also publicly
maintained that a Dissenter may get to Heaven, and ought to
be treated as a brother Christian whilst on earth. Do, dear
Newman, well consider where you are going in this business,
and do not, as you threaten, march past me, unless you are
quite sure that you will not hereafter wish to march back
again.

Many thanks for your help in searching for an incumbent
for my church at Cosdey. I have as yet made no appointment. I

It is by the conscientious discharge of our duties in our cures,
by the due disposal of our patronage, and by the exercise of
self-denial in preferment offered to ourselves, that I hope we
may silence the gainsayers, or, if not, yet justify the Church.
I would gladly enter into an association for these objects, if
we were not by our vows as ministers and as Christians already
members of just such a society.

Ever Yours,

C. GiRDLESTONE.

Rev. J. H. Newman, Oriel College.

IISTDEX.

-•o*-

Abemethy, Mr., 64

Acland, Dr., 43 et »eq , 66, 99, 160

Adand, Sir T., 83, 84, 88 et teg.

Adams, William, 228

Adelaide, Queen, 5

Albert, Prince, 226

Allbutt, Professor, 111

Angel Hotel, 3

Angelo, 107

Arnold, Dr., 186-86, 210. 214

„ Matthew,97,110,187,214-15
Atterbury, Charles, 150

Baden-Powell, 173

„ Mrs., 17

BaUiol Masque, 208

Bandinel, Dr., 167, 176

Barnes, Dr., 134

Bartlett, B. E., 109

Batchelor, Eleanor, 247

Baxters, father and son, 33

Bishop, of the Angel, 218

Bishop, Sir Henry, 71

Blackstone, Charles, 120

Bland, Archdeacon, 215

Blaydes, 109-10 {see Calverley)

Bliss, Dr., 167-68

Bloxam, Dr., 170

Boone, Shergold, 116

"Bothie," Clough's, 98, 124, 263

Bourn, Dr., 61

Bozall, Miss, 8

Brancker, Tom, 93

Brasenose Ale, 12, 267

Bright, John, 201

Brodie, Sir B., senior, 54, 63
„ junior, 55

Buckland, Dr., 35 ^^ »eq.
„ Mrs., 36
„ Frank, 38, 106

Bull, Dr., 17 et seg.

Bulteel, 227

Bunsen, Baron, 89, 162

Burgon, Dean, 168, 191, 233

Burne-Jones, 48

Burton, Jack and Tom, 8, 9

Calverley, 112 et »eq,

Cain and Abel, 252

Carroll, Lewis, 160-61

Chaffers, 55

Chamberlain, T., 108

Chambers, Proctor, 194

Chapman, 42

Chretien, 140

« Christian Year," 222

Church, Dean, 158

Clarence, Duke of, 102

Clough, A. H., 97-98, 124, 187,

206
Coaches, 8
Coleridge, Herbert, 117

„ Sara, 118
Conington, John, 104, 208, 236
Conybeare, 236
Copeland, 28
Copleston, Bishop, 16
Corfe, Dr., 75
Costar, Bichard, 4, 151
Cotton, Archdeacon, 132
„ Dr. {frontispiece)
Cox, George, 115, 175

„ John, 114

„ Valentine, 118
Coxe, Henry, 168
Crowe Orator, 176

Dalton, Reginald, 60

Darnel, 16

Darwin fight, 50

Daubeny, Dr., Z\ et teg,, 61, 169

Davis, Tom, 21

Davy, Sir H., 40

Deichmann, 153

Denison, Bishop, 227

„ G. A., 193, 233, 278
Derby, Lord, 101, 160, 262, 271
" Detenus," 24, 178
DisraeU, 201, 277
Dolby, Madame, 155
Dons, 19

Douglas, Helen, 133
Draper, Professor, 51

284

INDEX.

Dunbar, Thomas, 12 et m^., 267, 259
Duncan, Phil, 35, 175

Eastwick, 23
Eden, 191
EUerton, Dr., 22
Elvey, Dr. S., 71
„ Sir G., 72
" Eothen," 168, 212
Erie, Christopher, 7, 177

„ SirW., 6
Evans, Dr., 216
Evans' Rooms, 200
Everett, U.S. Minister, 167

Faber, Frank, 166, 169

„ "Waterlily," 169
Fanshawe, Catherine, 66,' 100, 261
Faussett, Tom, 1 19 et aeq,
Fitzroy, Admiral, 62
Foulkes, Dr., 8

„ Mrs., 8

„ Rev. E. S., 101
Foote, 181, 275
Freeman, E. A., 103, 106
Froude, Hurrell, 193
Frowd, Dr., 12, 24 et aeg.
Fumeaux, Henry, 99, 120

Gaisford, Dean, 129 et teq,
Gauntlett, Dr., 177, 179
George, Mother, 147
Gilbert, Dr., 14, 98
Giles, Archdeacon, 94
Girdlestone, Charles, 278-282
Gladstone, 68, 83-4, 87, 93, 116, 204
Goose, Mother, 147
Gordon, Osborne, 62, 125, 132, 169

et 8eq., 269, 270
Goss, Dr., 80

Goulbum, Dean, 219 ^^ teq,
Grantham, G., 73
Gregorians, 76
Gregorie, David, 65
Greswell, E., 7

„ R., 61
Greyhound, The, 247
Griffith, of Wadham, 47
Griffith, " Mo," 12, 27 et seq.
Guidotti, 248
Gutch, Rev. J., 246
„ Sarah, 246

Hamilton, Bishop, 228
Hammond, 7

Hampden, Bishop, 17, 18
Hancock, 131
Harington, Dr., 128
HascoU, Captain, 240
Hawkins, Provost, 193
Hayman, Dr., 106, 231
Heathcote, W. B., 176, 240
Henderson, Dean, 170
Henley, "The Seven," 113, 263
Henslow, Professor, 33, 50
Herbert, Algernon, 144

„ Edward, 143
Hewlett, chorister, 73
Hill, Rev. J., 96
Hobhouse, Bishop, 228
Holme, 27
Hooker, Sir J., 54
Horseman, Miss, 9 et teq.^ 180, 192
Hounslow, 229
Howard, of Radley, 240
Hubbard, 241
Hughes, G., 114, 196-96
Hughes, Tom, 114, 195 et $eq,
Hullah, 74
Hunt, Holman, 48
Hussey, R., 156
Huxley, 50 et teq.

Ireland, Dr., 61

Jackson, Cyril, 69

„ (" Uniomachia "), 94
Jacobson, Bishop, 129, 167, 235
James, confectioner, 248
Jeffs, Mother, 147
Jelf, Dr., 136

„ W. E., 75, 132, 166-66 et teq,
Jenkyns, Dr., 109, 202
Jeune, Dr., 149, 210, 268
Johnson, Dr., 146, 168, 213
Jones, Collier, 235, 267
Jowett, 54, 99, 204, 208, 213, 222,

236
Joy, Parson, 249
Jubber, 249
Jullien, 74

Earslake, W. H., 28
Keble, J., 36
Kett, " Horse," 16 et teq.
Kidd, Dr., 16, 44, 61
Kinglake, A. W., 78, 212
Eingsley, Charles, 153, 197

„ Henry, 124
Kitchin, Dean, 165, 270

INDEX.

285

Lake, Dean, 185, 198, 206 et teq,,

231
Landor, Savage, 16
Latimer, wine merchant, 250, 258
Laud's Tree, 253
Lee, Harriett, 66

„ Lancelot, 178
Leonard, 63
Ley, Jacob, 155, 253
Liddell, Dean, 117, 151, 160, 202
Lind, Jenny, 77, 153
Linwood, Miss, 155

„ Professor, 156
Lloyd, Bishop, 141, 227

„ Foster, 155

„ Mrs. and Misses, 135
" Logic Stakes," 237
Lonsdale, J., 99
Louse, Mother, 247
Lowe, R., 94, 204
« Lux Mundi," 233
Lyttelton, Lord, 195, 275

Maclean, Donald, 5
Malan, S. C, 95 et aeq.
Manning, Cardinal, 92, 174, 183,189
Marriott, Charles, 157, 190

„ John, 190
Martyrs' Memorial, 253
Matthews, Henry, 13, 260
Maule, J. B., 23
Maurice, F. D., 89, 135, 197

„ Peter, 72
Medals, 110
Menzies, Fletcher, 113
Michell, R., 57
Microscopical Society, 56
MiUais, 48
Moon, 72
Morris, W., 48
Mozley, James, 169, 184
Miiller, Max, 70, 78, 89, 152, 202,

236
Murray, G. W., 75
Museum, 46 et aeq.

Nares, Dr., 180

Neate, Charles, 182, 200, 277

Ness, Charlotte, 14

Nestor, 1, 80, 256

Neve, Mrs., 8

Newman, Cardinal, 16, 70, \%2 et

aeq., 193, 213, 217, 234, 246,255,

278-279
Newman, T. H., 171

"Noetics," 17,173
Norman, 242
Norris, Dr., 119

Oakeley, Sir H., 75
Ogle, Dr., senior, 61

„ Dr., junior, 120

„ Misses, 252

,, Octavius, 172
Orlebar, 198
Otter, F., 120
Ouseley, Sir F. A. G., 71, 75, 76, 79

et tea. J 153
Oxford Novels, 84, 199
„ Spy, 64, 116
„ Bishop of (Wilberforce), 50,

201, 230, 271, 277

Parker, Joseph, 17, 249

Pamell, 158

Parr, Dr., 167

Parsons, Old Bank, 248

Pass and Class, 254

Pattison, Mark, 95, 140, 214, 216

et seq., 252
Pattison, Rev. M. J., 252

„ Dora, 220
Pearoe, Mrs., 8
Peck water 129

Pegge, Sir Christopher, 13,44,60,257
" Pelham," 205
"Phaethon," 273
Phillips, Professor, 42
Pollen, Hungerford, 47
Prout, 161
Pusey, Dr., 36, 134, IZSeteeq., 193,

268
Pusey, Lady Lucy, 137

„ Philip, senior, 89, 139, 148

„ Philip, junior, 144

Quadrille, 8
Quicke, E., 23

Radcliffe Library, 251
Randall, Tom, 114
Reade, Charles, 170
Riddell, James, 99, 202
Ridding, Aithur, 113
Rigaud, John 172
Risley, W., 179
„ R., 240
Robertson, Charles, 45, 160
Roderick Dhu, 133
Rogers, Thorold, 100 ^/m^., 133,219

286

INDEX.

Rolleston, Dr., 54, 146
Rossetti, 49

Rothschild, Baron, 178
Bouth, Dr., 164 et teq., 177

„ Mrs., 30, 166
Rowley, Dr., 5
Royds, 114
Ruskin, 49

Russell's, Lord John, Post-bag,
236

Sadler, 249
Sanctuary, 135
Sairatt, 65
Sawell, Jonathan, 72
Sdater, Philip, 120
Scott, Dr., 93, 212 et seq.

„ Walter, 249
Sellon, Miss, 140
Selwyn, 110
Senior Fellows, 20
Sewell, Richard, 169

„ William, 47, 234 et seq.
Shaw, Dr., 131
Shea, the Brothers, 49
Sheepshanks, 180
Shuttleworth, 22, 35, 147, 173, 235,

273
Sinclair, W., 94

Singleton, Warden of Radley,238-39
Skene of Rubislaw, 225
Skidmore, 48, 160
Smith, Dean, 128

„ Gk)ldwin, 104-5, 254

„ Henry, 58

„ Payne, 210

„ Sydney, 193, 251
Spiers, 249
Stainer, Sir J., 80
Stanley, A. P., 77, 97-8, 185, 188,

194, 198, 226, 231, 233
Stanley, Bishop, 77
Stephens, famous angler, 247

„ Fitzjames, 209

Streets, Names of, 253
Strong, Captain, 47
Sunderland, 83
Swanwick, Anna, 222
Symons, Ben, 108, and frontitpieee

Talboys, 203, 249
Tatham, Dr., 148

Taunton, Lord, 35

Taylor Buildings, 253

Temple, Archbishop, 105, 202, 206

Tennyson, 85, 213

Thalberg, 74

Thomas, 42

Thompson, Master of Trinity, 226
„ Old Bank, 248

„ Rector of Lincoln, 218

Thomson, Archbishop, 75, 136, 224

Thunny, 160, 272

Trench, Archbishop, 86

Tripp, H., 238

Tuckwell, 63 et aeq., 260

" Uniomachia," 93

Yanbrugh, 244
Vaughan, Halford, 211
Venables, 48

Walker, botanist, &c., 169

,, Professor, 41
Wall, Henry, 99, 204
Warton, Tom, 168, 294
Weatherby, 109
Wellesley, Dr., 19, 56
Wellington, Duke of, 2, 141
West, 62, 267
Westbury, Lord, 200
Westwocld, Professor, 20 et $eq.
Whately, 17, 174
Wheler, Trevor, 82
White, Blanco, 17, 188
Whorhood, 171

„ Madame, 171

Wilberforce {eee Oxford, Bishop of)
Wilkins, Harry, 34, 117
Williams, Botanical Professor, 32,

246
Williams, Warden, 71, 169, 180
Wilson, R. P., 190
Wirion, General, 179
Wood, J. a., 46, 107
Woodward, 48
Wootten, Dr., 29
„ Mr., 5
Wordsworth, Charles, 84, 86 et teq.,

260
Wordsworth, Mrs., 86
Wren, Walter, III et aeq,
Wynter, Dr., 167

PrIKTBD BT CaSSBIX it GOMPAKY, LiMITSD, La BXLLK SaUYAOX, liOMDOir, B.C.

6.01

:^c^

A SELECTED LIST

OF

CaSSELL & CoMPANTS

Publications.

"^W

7 G-io.

oo

StUctimu from Casull A Compotes Publkatiam.

iHtigtrirtrt, Tfmt Jlrt, anil tA)itt VsAxaxttsk.

Aft?«ntimb Tlu World Ot Cheap Edition, Profusely Illustrated with Stirring
Pictims and Eighteen Coloored Plates. In Three Vols. 5s. each.

AdTMLtuTM in CrlUdsm. Bj Q (A. T. Quillbk-Couch). 6s.

Abop'i FftblML Illustrated by Ernest Griset. Cheap EdiHan, Qoth, 3& 6d. ;
beveUed boards, gilt edges, 5s.

Awiiw^iM Popular History ot By Henrt Sgherrbn. F.Z.S. With 13
Cokmred Platef and other Illustrations. 6s.

Andiitoefeiml Drawing: By R. PhsnA Spiers. Ulustzated. los. 6d.

Artk ftaorod. With nearly aoo Full-page Illustrations and Descriptive Text. 9s.

Artk The Magaiine OC With Exquisite Photogravures, a Series of Full-page
Plates, and hundreds of Illustrations. Ytmrfy yolttme^ ais.

▲rttstiO Anatomy. By Prof. M. Duval. Cheap Edition, 3s. 6d.

^><>^iiai<« and Songs. By William Makepeace Thackeray. VTvCb. Original
Illustrations by H. M. Brock. 6s.

Barber, Oharles Burton, The Works of. With Forty-one Plates and Portraits,
and Introduction by Hakky Fukniss. Cheap Edition^ js. 6d.

Berry, D.D., Rev. G. A., Ufe ot By the Rev. J. S. Drummond. With
Portrait. 6s.

Biographical Dictionary, CasseH's. Containing Memoirs of the Most
£minent Men and Women of all Ages and Countries. Cheap Edition, 3s. 6d.

Birds, Onr Barer British : Their Nests, IRgK^y and Bnmmer Haunts. By

R. Kbarton, F.Z.S. With about 70 Illustrations from Photographs by C. Ksarton.
7s. 6d.

Birds' Nests, British : How, Where, and When to Find and Identify Them.

By R. Kkarton, F.Z.S. With nearly 130 Illustrations of Nests, Eggs, Young, &c.,
' from Photographs by C Kbarton. axs.

Black Wattih, The. The Record of an Historic Regiment By Archibald
Forbes, LL.D. 6s.

Breechloader, The, and How to Use It By W. Greener. 3s. 6d.
Britain's Boll of Glory; or, the Victoria Cross, Its Heroes, and their

Valour. By D. H. Parry. Illustrated. Cheap and Enlarged Edition, 3s. 6d.
British Ballads. With qoo Original Illustrations. Cheap Edition, Two Volumes
in One. Cloth, 7s. 6a.

British Battles on Land and Sea. By James Grant. With about 800
Illustrations. Cheap Edition. Four Vds., 3s. 6d. each.

Building World In Half-Yearly Volumes, 4s. 6d. each.

Canaries and Cage-Birds, The Illustrated Book ol By W. A. Bxj^kston,

W. SwAYSLAMD, and A. F. Wiener. With 56 Facsimile Coloured Plates. 35s.
Cassell's Magazine. Yearly Volume, 8s. ; Half-Yearly Volume, 5s.
Cathedrals^ Ahheys, and Churches of England and Wales. Descriptive,

Historical, Pictorial. Popular Edition, Two Vols., xas. the set.

Cats and Kittens. By Henribtte Ronner. With Portrait and 13 magnificent
Full-page Photogravure Plates and numerous Illustrations. 410, ;^a xos.

China Painting. By Florence Lewis. With Sixteen Coloured Plates, &a 5s.

Chinese Crisis, The Story of the. By Alexis Krausse. 3s. 6d.

Choice Dishes at Small Cost By A. G. Payne. Cheap Edition, xs.

Chums. The Illustrated Paper for Boys. Yearly Volume, 8s.

Civil Service, Guide to Employment in the. Entirely New Edition, Paper,
IS. ; doth, zs. 6d.

CUnlcal Iffamials for Practitioners and Students of Medidna {A List of

Volumee forwarded Post free on api Uca ion to the Publishers.)

Clyde, Cassell's Qulde to the. Illustrated. Paper covers, 6d. ; doth. is.

Selections from CasseS A Company s Publuations.

Cobden Glul), Works publislied for the. {A Complete List om application,) (

Colour. By Prof. A. H. Church. New and Enlarged Edition, 3s. 6d.

Conquests of tlie Cros& Edited by Edwin Hodder. With numerous Original
lUustrations. Complete in Three Vols. 9s. each. .

Cookery, Cassell's Dictionary ot With about 9,000 Redpes. 5s.

Cookery, A Tear's. By Phyllis Browns. Cheap Edition, Limp doth, xa. ;

bevelled cloth boards, as. '

Cookery Book, Cassell's New UniversaL By Iazzir Heritage. With la
Coloured Plates and other Illustrations. 1,344 pages, strongly bound in leather gilt, 65.

Cookery, Cassell's Popular. With Four Coloured Plates. Cloth gilt, as.

Cookery, Cassell's flbllllng. Limp cloth, xs.

Cookery for Common Ailments. By a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians
and Phyllis Brownb. Cheap Editiam. xs.

Cookery, Vegetarian. By A. G. Payne. Cheap Edition, xs.
Cooking by Gas, The Art ol By Marie J. Sugg. Illustrated. Cloth, as.
Copyright In Books, The Law and History ot (Seven Lectures.) By

AuGUSTiNB BiRRELL, M.P. 3S. 6d. net.
Countries of the World, The. By Dr. Robert Brown, M.A., F.L.& With

about 750 Illustrations. Cheap Edition. In Six Vols. 6s. each.

Cyolopadia, Cassell's Concise. With about 600 Illustrations. 5s.
Cyclopaedia, Cassell's Miniature. Containing 30,000 Subjects. Cheap atkd

Revised Edition, Limp cloth, is. Cloth gilt, xs. 6d.

Dainty Breakfasts, The Dictionary o£ By Phyllis Browne, is.

Dante In Paradise, with Beadlngs firom the "Paradise." By Rose S.

Selfb. With 6 Illustrations, as.

Dead Han's Bock. A Romance by Q (A. T. Quillbr-Couch). I4brarv Edition,

5S. Peoples Edition^ 6d.
" Death or Glory Boys, The." The Story of the 17th Lancers. By D. H. Parry.

With Frontispiece. Cloth gilt, 6s.
Dictionaries. (For description, see alphabetical letter.) Bible, Biographical,

Concise Cyclopaedia, Cookery, Cyclopaedia of Mechanics, Dainty Breakfasts,

Encyclopaedic, English, English History, Miniature Cyclopaedia, Phrase and Fable.

(French, German, and Latin see with Educational Works.)

Dog, Illustrated Book of the. By Vero Shaw, B.A. With 38 Coloured

Plates. Cloth bevelled, 35s. ; half-morocco, 45s.
Dor6 Don Quixote, The. With about 400 Illustrations by Gustave Dorb.
Cheap Edition. Cloth, xos. 6d.

Dor6 Oallery, The. With 350 Illustrations by Gustave DorE. 410, 42s.
Dora's Dante's Infema Illustrated by Gustave Dor£. Popular Edition.

With Preface by A. J.- Butlbr. Cloth gilt or buckram, 7s. 6d.

Dora's Dante^s Purgatory and Paradise. Illustrated by Gustave DoriL

Cheap Edition. 7s. 6d.

Dora's Milton's Paradise IiOSL Illustrated by Gustave DorE. 4to. Cheap

Edition^ X2S. 6d. Popular Edition. Cloth or buckram, 7s. 6d.

Earth, Our, and its Story. Edited by Dr. Robert Brown, F.L.S. With

nearly 800 Illustrations. CheaP Edition, In Three Vols. 5s. each.

Egypt: Descriptive, Historical, and Picturesque. By Prof. G. Ebers.

Translated by Clara Bbll, with Notes by Sam uel Birch, LL D. . &c. Two Vols. 439^
Electric Current, The. How Produced and How Used. By R. Mullineux

Walmslry, D.Sc., &a Illustrated, xos. 6d.
Electricity, Practical By Prof. W. E. Ayrton, F.R.S. Entirely New and

Enlarged Edition. Completely re-written. Illustrated. 9s.

Electricity In the Service of Man. A Popular and Practical Treatise. With
upwards of 950 Illustrations. AVn/ and Cheaper EeUtum, 7s. 6d.

Employment fOr Boys on Leaving School, Guide ta By W. S. Beard.

F.R.G.S. xs. 6d.
EncydopsBdic Dictionary, The. In Fourteen Divisional Vols.. los. 6d. each.*"

England and Wales, Pictorial. With upwards of 330 illustrations prepared
from copyright photographs. 98. On superior paper, hidf-persian, in box, Z5S. net.

Bnfl^anrt, A Huitory of. From the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Present
Day. By H. O. ArkolO'Forstbk, M.A. Fcdly Illustrated, 5ft.

SikeHom fr^m CastiU 4 C^mpamj^s ^skHemtimu,

XUnsastad Hlitocy tL With npwaids of 3.000 Dlustx*-
Embocnd doth. Eight Vob., £4 net.
Wifliih nifldonaTy, CaiMll'l. Containing Definitions of upwards of xoo.ooo

Words and Phiues. Ckea^ Edm^m, ^ 6d.
VaglUh Hlitocy. TIm IMetlonary ol Edited by Sidnet Low, RA., and
Prot F. S. Pulling, M.A., with Omtributioiis by Eminent Wiitos. ^*»
Fditwm 7s. 6d.
BBgUili Utarature. UlinuT ol By Prof. H. Morlet. In $ Vols. 7s. 6d. eacb.

Bai^Uflli LttanitarA. Morley'i First flkttoh ot Rtvised BdUion, 7s. 6d.

Bai^lflli Uterature. TIm Story ol By Anna BucKLANa 3s. 6d.

B«sli>b WMtera from tbo Barliett Period to Bhakespeartt. By Henrt

MoKLBT, Eleven Vols. 5a. each.
VHtUOtta Of Good Society. New Edition, Edited and Revised by Lady
Colin Campbell, is. ; doth. is. 6d.

FUrwaj Zaland. By Horace Hutchinson. CMeap Edition, as. 6d.

Fairy Tales Fur and Hear. Retold by Q (A. T. Quiller-Couch). IUus. as. 6d.

Family Doctor, Camitfl'e. By A Medical Man. lUnstrated, xos. 6d.

Family lawyer, Cassell'a By A Barrister-at-Law. xos. 6d.

Far East, Tbe New. By Arthur Diost. With a Map and Illustrations. Ckeaf

EdiHoH^ 6s.

Fletton, CasseU's Popular Library of. 3s. 6d. each.

ThA

Tire.
Ir

By M. Hockliffa.
aL ByHeadonUUL
.tertainmonf. Bjr

WlmtGhoerl .^BrWClaik

Mm. CUiTiB Taolit. \

TlM

Adrenvnras
Burn.
Travels.

}

^ V By Fraak Stockton.

Qczdon. By ElUii

•}

By Max

Tbelmprearni^^l* Oity.1

TlM Sea Wolves.

'Shm Iron Pirate.

I^Feda^-. By A. E. 'Wickham.

Tfnj' LnttreiL "k

The Bofue's Kar^h. }-By E. W. Hornt

ICy Lord Dake. J

The WMka Shield. By Bertram Mitford.

Tnxfeer^ Uttle Maid. By C. B. Buisin.

Ttoa mspaaiola Plate. By John BloundeDe*

Burton.
Hlaliway of Sorrow. By He«ba Stretton

.^•••••••«^a Famous Russian Exile.

Solomon's Mines. By H. Rider
(Also People's Edition. 6d.)

Tlia IiifflLte of Sydney. By Lilian Turner.

*inie Admirable Lady Biddy Fane. By

lat A Lore Story. By "Q.

The Bed Tenrort A Story of the Paris

Ocmunnne. By Edward Kinc.

The Little Squire. By Mrs. Henry de laFSstuK.

Zero, the Slaver. l-„ y^ l -l i7wrh«r

Into the Unknown ! / ^^ L»'»««»ce Ftetcher

Queen's Soarlet, The. By Geoise Manville

Fenn.
Captore of the "Bstrella** The. A Tal*

of tlie Slave Trade. By Commander Claad

Haidioff. R.N.
The Awkward Sqnada. And other Ubn>

Stories. By Shan F. Bullock.
A XUn^s Hussar. )
A Free-Lanoe in>By Herbert Compton.

a Par Lsaid. )
Playtbincs and Parodiea. Short Stories.

Skotches. &c By Barry Pain.

The Medioine Lady. By L. T. Moada.
Pather Stafford. By Anthony Hope.

The Avenffer of Blood. By J. Madareo
Cobban.

The Man in Blaek.
Pranois Cludde,The

Story of V By Stanley Weyman.

From the Memoirs of a

Mtnibter of France.

The Doincs of BaiBee Haw. By A. Ceean
Deyle.

Revs. J. G. Wood and Theodore

}

Frank Barrett.

Field Naturalist's Handbook, The. By

Wooix Cheap Edition^ 2S. 6d.

Flguler's Popular Scientific Works. With Several Hundred Illustrations in

each. 3s. 6d. each. The Insect World. The Human Baoe. Beptiles and Birds.
Ttf fti""**'**- The World before the Delude. The Vegetable World. The Ocean World.

Flora's Feast. A Masque of Flowers. Penned and Pictured by Waltek
Ckank. With 40 pages in Colours. 5s.

Flower Paintlncr. Elementary. With Eight Coloured Plates. 3s.

Flowers, and How to Paint Them. By Maud Naftel. With Coloured Plates. 5s. .

Fossil Reptiles. A History of British. By Sir Richard Owen. F.R.S., &c

With 268 Plates. In Four Vols. £,\9 las.

Fnuico-German War, Cassell's History of tha Complete in Two Vols..
'^ containing about 500 Illustrations. Cheap EdiHoH^ 6s. each.

Garden Flowers, Familiar. By Prof. F. Edward Hulme, F.L.S., F.S.A.
With 200 Full-page Coloured Plates, and Descru>tive Text by Shiklbv Hibrrux
CkfP Edition^ In Five Vols., 3s. 6a. each.

StUctions fr»m Cassdl ds Company* s Publications.

Ctardener, Zbe. Yearly Volume. Ptofusely Illustrated. 7s. 6d.

<lazetteer of Great Britain and Ireland, Cassell'a With Numerous Illus-
trations and 60 Maps. 6 Vols. , 5s. each.

GladBtone, William Ewart^ The Life of. Edited by Su: Wemyss Reiix

Profusely Illustrated. 7s. 6d. ; Superior Edition in a Vols., 9s.

Gleanings from Popular Authors. Cheap Edition, 3s. 6d.

Grace O'Halley* Prinpess and Pirate. By Robert Machrat. 6s.

Guests of Mine Host, The. By Marian Bower. 6s.

Gun and its Development^ The. By W. W. Greener. With 500 Illustiationa

Entirely New Edition, zos. 6d«
Guns, Modem Shot By W. W. Greener. Illustrated. 5s.
Health, The Book o£ By Eminem Physicians and Surgeons. Qoth» sis.
Heavens, The Story of the. By Sir Robert Ball. LL.D.. &c With

Coloured Plates and Wood Engravings. Popular Edition,, zos. 6d.

Heroes of Britain in Peace and War. With 300 Original Illustrations. Cheap

Edition, Complete in One Vol.,, 3s. 6d. ^

History, A Foot-note to. Eight Years of Trouble in Samoa. By R. L. Stevenson. 6s.
Home Life of the Ancient GredCs, Tha Translated by Alice Zimmern.

Illustrated. Chenp Edition, 5s.

Horses and Dog^k By O. Eerelman. With Descriptive Text Translated
from the Dutch by Clara Bell. With 15 Full-page and other Illustrations. 25s. net.

Houghton, Lord : The Life, Letters, and Friendships of Richard Monckton
Milnes, First Lord Houghton. By Sir Wbmyss Rsio. Two Vols. 32s.

Hygiene and Puhllc Health. By & Arthur Whitblegge, M.D. Illustrated.

New and Reinud Edition, 7s. 6d.

Ih a Ck)nning Tower ; or, How I Took H.M.8. *< Majestic " into Action. By

H. O. Arnold- FoRSTKR, M. A, Cheap Edition. Illustrated. 6d.
India. Cassell's History of. In One Vol. Cheap Edition, 7s, 66,

m Boyai Purple. By William Pigott. 6s.

Jenetha's Venture. By Colonel Harcourt. 6s.

Khiva, A Ride to. By Col. Fred Burnaby. New Edition. Illustrated, y^ 6d.

Kilogram ; The Coming of the ; or. The Battle of the Standards. By H. Oi

Arnold-Forstkr, M.A. Illustrated. Cheap Edition. 6d.

Kronstadtk By Max Pemberton. With 8 Full-page Plates. 6s.

Ladies' Physician, Tha By a London Physician. Cheap Edition, 3s. 6d.

Lady's Dressing-Boom, The. Translated from the French by Lady Colin
Campbell. Cheap Edition, as. 6d.

Landscape Painting in Water Colours. By J. Macwhirter, R.A. With

23 Coloured Plates. Cloth, 5s.

Letts's Uaries and other TimeHsaving Publications are now published exclu-
sively hy Cassbll & Company. {A List sent post /ree on explication.'^

Little Huguenot, The. New Edition, i& 6d.

Little Minister, The. By J. M. Barrib. Illustrated. 6s.

Little Notice, The. By Alix King. 6s.

London, Cassell's Ouide to. Illustrated. New Edition, 6d. Cloth, is.

London, Creator. By Edward Walford. Two Vols. With about 400

Illustrations. Cheap Edition, 4s. 6d. each.

Londff", Old and Hew. By Walter Thornbury and £dward Walford.

Six Vols., with about z,90o Illustrations. Cheap Edition, 4s. 6d. each.

Medical Handbook of Life Assurance. By James Edward Pollock. M.D.,

and Jambs Chisholm. New and Revised Edition, 7s. 6d.
Mftdlg^nff; i*«"«^i« for Students Ol (A List forwarded post free on application.)

Mesdag, H. W., the Painter of the North Sea. With Etchings and Descriptive
Teact. By Ph. Zilckkn. The Text translated from the Dutch by Claka Bbul 3691.

Modem Europe^ A History ot B^ C A. Fyffb, M. A. Cheap Edition in (hu
Volutne, los. 6d. ; Librmry Editton, ilbtstmted, 3 volSi, 71. 6d. each.

fan

loud Ilbn

nr*l Blito
r.L-S. w

Hatonl HUtoffT, OmhU'i Mnr. EtUtedbrP. Martin Duncan, M.a,F.R.S.,
T.G.S. ClUmf EiSlin. With (boiu i,Eaci IDohl Tbm Doable VoIl, te. each.

>4tar« and a Oamon. inttL Bj' Richaed Kbakton, F.Z.S. With Frontis-
■•wnuB Hall Ab AMXoVogn.fl^. With Ponraii and FroDtispiece. iss. 6d.
X«vZaalaiid,PIetarU]. With Preface bTSirW.B.PBitciVAL,K.CM.aDli>tt.«a.
■Orala, Fopnlar, Eitn crown Bro, cloth, 61. emcb.

SS^W**- "" l-^'^j, '''^; I 1 Alio • AM./—.

^'c^l^Vt.ui.m.ut^'^ «>. -IT- r

^ Br R. JL. »nVUCSIlN ud LLOVD OSBDUUIB. AluP.ltUlEiiHtt.Sd.

OarOm Connbr. With 1,300 lUustiatioDS. Cktap BdiUo*. 3 Vols., 5*. each.

Paris, OaMtn^ (tnida to. Profusely fUustrated. ed. ; cloth, n.

Vula, Old and Hew. mastrated. In Two Voli, loa. 6d. ebcIx

VmI, Sir K. Bjt Lord Rosbbbrt. as. 6d.

Fomy T**f'"* Tha Fmr. With about 650 lUustiailons. In Qnarterlr Vols. ,

fa^laa of tlw Totld, Tha. B; Dr. Robert Brown, F.L.S. Complete in Six

Voli. Wilh lliuitratknii, jt. fid. emch.
IteU aad FatrlotLnn. Tma Talea of Hcfftric Deeds Mid BUrtlInx AdTentnres.

In Two Volt, 4*- ™cli- {Alti,inOntV^l..-p.6A.]
Fanonal BeooUeotloni. By H. StrrHERLAND Edwards. 7s. 6d.
mraaa and Fslila, Dr. Btbtbt'i Dlctlonarr oC Enttnly Nra and largely

FtiTatoI<%7 Eor Btndenta. Etemsntar;. By Alfred T. Schofield, M.D.,

M.B.CS. Wlh Two Colouicd PlVU and numerous lllustntloni. Nta EdiHfn, gi.

netnTeaqita Amarlea. Complete in Four VoU., with 48 Exquisite Sted Platea,
ud Kboiit )» OriginMl Wood Fii(nna(L .£11 lo. tht let. Patulmr SOiHan is

Stiectums from Cassell A Company s JPublicoHons,

Plotnresque Canada. With about 600 Original lUustratioiis. a Vols. £g gs. the set

PlctnreBque Europe. With nearly 1,000 Magnificent Illustrations and 64 Special
Plates, and The Continent, in Three Vols., Price, 6s. each. (The British Isles.)
Two Vols, in One, los. 6d.

FictnreBqae Mediterranean, Tbe. With a Series of Mafi^nificent Illustrations
from Ori«:inal Designs by leading Artists of the day. Two VcSs. Cloth, £9 2s. each.

n^^ns, Fnlton'B Book ot Edited by Lewis Wright. Revised, Enlarp^ed,
and Supplemented by the Rev. W. F. Lumlby. With 50 Full-page Illustrations.
Popular Edition, In One Vol., los. 6d. Original Edition^ with 50 Coloured Plates
and numerous Wood Engravings, ais.

Planet, Tbe Story of Our. By ProC Bonney, F.R.S. VTith Coloured

Plates and Maps and about xoo Illustrations. Cheap Edition^ 7s. 6d.

FlayfiEdr, I^on, Memoirs and Correspondence of; First Lord Playfair of St.

Andrews. By Sir Wbmvss Rkid. With Two Portraits. 7s. 6d.

Felloe and Grime, Mysteries ot k General Survey of Wton^r-dolng and

Its Pursuit. By Major Arthur Griffiths. Two Vols. axs.
Folytedmlc Series, The. Practical Illustrated Manuals. {A List will be

stnt an application.')
Fonltiy, The Book ot By Lewis Wright. Popular Edition, Illustrated. los. 6d.

Poultry, Tbe Illustrated Book ot By Lewis Wright. With Fifty Coloured

Plates, and numerous Wood Engravings. New Edition in Preparation,

Poultry Keeper, The Practical. By Lewis Wright. With Eight Coloured

Plates and numerous Illustrations in Text. New emd Enlarged Edition, 3s. 6d.
** Punch," The History ot By M. H. Spielmann. With nearly 170 Illustra-
tions, Portraits, and Facsimiles. Cloth, x6s. ; Large Paper Edition, £a as. net.

Qfs Worts, Uniform Edition ot ss. each.

Dead Maa*a Book. (Also Peept^t

EdUioH, 6d.)
The Splendid Spur. Cheap Edition. 3s. 6d.
The Deleotable Duohy. Stories, Studies,
and Sketches.

The Aatoniahing Kiatory of Troy Town.
** I Saw Three Ships,** and other Wtauer's Tales.
Konghts and Orooaea.
'Wanderlnff Heath.
The Blue Pavillona.

liondon and North Weetem Bailway.
Qreat Weetem Bailway.
Midland Bailway.
Qreat Northern Bailway.

Queen Summer • or, The Tourney of the Lily and the Rose. Penned and

Portrayed by Walter Cranb. With 40 pages in Colours. 6s.

Queen Victoria, The Life and Times ot By Robert Wilson. Complete in

Two Vols. With numerous Illustrations, gs. each.
Queen's Empire, The. Containing nearly 700 Splendid Illustrations. Complete

in Two Vols. os. each.
Queen's IiOndon, The. Containing Exquisite Views of London and its Environs,

together with a fine series of Pictures of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee Procession.

Enlarged Edition, xos. 6d.

Bahhlt Keeper, The. By <* Cuniculus." Illustrated. 3s. 6d.

Bailway Guides, OfflciaL With Illxistrations on nearly every page, Maps, &c.
Paper covers, zs. ; cloth, zs. 6d.

Ghreat Bastem Bailway.
London and South Weetem Bailway.
IjOndon, Brighton and South Ooaet Bailway.
South Bastem & Chatham Bailway.
Atrldgwd and Popular SdUiotu of the abore Guides can also be obtained. Paper corera. 3d. eadk

Blven of Qreat Britain: Descriptive, Historical, Pictorial.

Bivara of the South and West Ck>asts. With Frontispiece and NmaeroMS ISastiatioBs. ag.
The Boyal Biver : The Thames from Source to Sea. Popular RdUUm, 16a.
Bivere of the Eaat Coast. With highly-finished Ensravisgs. Popular Edition, i6S.

Rohlnson Crusoe. Casselts Fine-Art Edition. Cheap Edition, 3s. 6d. and 5s.
BoSTues of the Fiery Gross. By S. Walkbt. With 16 Full-page Illustrations,
as. 6d. -

Bonner, Henrlette^ The Fainter of Cat-Uf e and Gat-Character. By M. H.

Spislmann. Large-paper Edition, 70s.
Boyal Academy Pictures. With upwards of 200 magnificent reproductions
of Pictures in the Royal Academy. 7s. 6d.

Buskin, John : A Sketch of his Ufe, his Work, and his Opinions. With

Personal BemlniSCences. By M. H. Spislmann. With numerons Portraite
and other Illustrations, ss.

ftUMO-Turkish War, Cassol's History ol With about 400 niiHtnuiGat. Nam
Ib Two Vols., ga^ each.

SiUclifiu frtm CaiiOl A Ctmpia^l PtMiiatinu.

IMnxtUy JosnuJ, OmhITi. lUustnled throughout. Yearly Vol., 7s. 6d.
•o*xlMatidBliu;ar, Bonffi for Soldlan uid teUon. By John Fauicr. 5s.

n Words mlyi paper, fid. \ doth, gd. Cktmf Ediltan. id.
■Oamoa fur AIL Edited by Dr. Robkkt Bkown, U.A., F.L.S., fto. Cii«a^

EdUit^ With BTeri.Too IllDitnlioDi. Five Voli. tt.6d.euh.
IdMiM Bartta, TIm Cantnty. Consisting of Biographiei of Emioent Sdentific

Men of the imeu Ceniuij. Ediied bySii Huir Soscoa, D.C.U. F.R.S., M.P.

CroirB Bvo, 3L 6d. each.

. . Btory oft

SentlnieDtal Tommy. By J. M. Babri^ Illustrated. 61.

BuUMAiuT, Th« BaraAUi Ban ot K.Q„ TIm Lift Mid Work oL Bf Edwim

UoDDUt. Illuitnted. Ckia* Edilvm, jl 6d.

Sliakeipwtre, Ths BukIuuI of. By ^ Goadbt. With Full-page IliustrK-

tians. CrciwD avo, 7:14 paH*^, Vi. ^
Bbakespeara, The Plays Of, b.diiedbyProf.HENKiMoRLeY. ComplEleim^Vols.,

' 81l«Jup«re, The Laopold. With 400 miutrations, and an introduction by F. ].
FuBHivALU CImf Editinn, 31. 6d. Cloth gilt, iix niea, ji. ; rcwbuigh, ?■. 6d.
StaBk«p«re. The Boyal With 50 FuU-page llliulrations. Complete in Thre>!
Bhlpof 8Ur8.'Th«. By "Q"(A, T. QuiLLEH-CouCH). 6s.
Slghta and Bcenea In Oxford City and UniTeiBlly. With 100 lUuslrations

af^er Original PhoLOSiapbl. Id Odc VoL 3il net.

Slaters Three. By Jessie Mansercu (Mrs. G. Db Horne Vaizbv). With
Bkatches, The Art of KaUltg and Dilug. From the French of G. FbaifONt.

II„ end 111., iss, t»ch. Vol5. !V. aid v., iji each. VoL VI., .Sa

Borne Farsona Unknown. By E. W. Hoknunc. 6s.

Bpeotra Gold. A Novel. By Headon Hilu lUusirated. 6s.

aparta and FaaUmea, CuueU'i Complete Book of Cktap EditioH, 3s. (A.

gtar-Land. By Sir Robkht Ball, LL.D., &c Illustraled. Nea and Enlarged

son, The Btory of Uia. By Sir Robert Ball, 1,L.D., &c With Eight

Technical luatmctlan. Edited by Paul N. Hasluck. Vol. I.—Practicsl
Suarcase JoinEry. VoL 11.— Fnclicol Metal Plate Work. a. each. (Other vok. u

msmea. The TtdaL By Grant Allen. With Inilia Proof Impressions of ao
Magnificent Full-pane Phologravure Plales, and maoy other lUlumiioiB. alter

Three Homes, The. By the Very Rev. Dean Farrar. D.D., F.R.S. Cheap

To Uie Death. By R. D. Chbtwodb. With Four Plates, as. 6d.

Tommy and OrlieL By J. M. Baerib. 65.

TMasBze Island. A Story of Pirates and the Spanish Main. By R. L.

Stevbhsoh. lUsuialed. Nru lUmlralid Editiai, U. Pi^lmr Edilint, ja 6d.

PapUi Editimi, ^Kfa, fid.

SeUcHoHs from Cassell dt Company s Pubttcaiimu.
Ulncle Tom'B Cabiii. By Harriet Beecher Stows. With npwards of loo

Original lUustratioiu. Cheap EtUtton. 5s.

« Unicode": Tbe UnlYenal Telegraphic PhnuM Book. Pocket or Desk

Edition, as. 6d. each.

Vnlted States, GasseU's History of the. By Edmund Ollier. VTiih 600 mns-

trations. Three Vols. 9s. each.

VnlYersal History, Cassell's. Profusely Illustrated. Cheap Edition. In Four

Vols., 5s. each;
Vlcat Ck)le, B.A., Tbe Life and Paintings o£ Illustrated. In Three Vols. £s 3s.

Vlsler of the Two-Homed Alexander, The. By Frank Stockton. Illustrated. 6s.

War and Peace, Memories' and Studies ot By Archibald Forbes, LUD.

Cheap Edition^ 6s.

Wars of the mnetles, The. A History of the WarfiBure of the last Ten Tears

of the 19th Century. Profusely Illustrated. In One Vol., 7s. 6d.
Westminster Ahbey, Annals of. By £. T. Bradley (Mrs. A. Murray Smith).

Illustrated. With a Preface by the Dban op Westminster. Cheap Editi«n^v&.
Wild Flowers, Familiar. By Prof. F. Edward Hulme, F.L.S., F.S.A.

With 240 Coloured Plates and Descriptive Text. Cheap Edition. In Six Vols., 3s. 6d.

each.
Wild Flowers Collecting Book. In Six Parts, 4d. each.

Wild Flowers ]>rawlng and Painting Book. In Six Parts, 4d. each.

Wild Life at Home: How to Study and Photograph It. By Richard

KsARTON, F.Z.S. Profusely Illustrated from Photographs, taken direct from
Nature, by Chsrrv Kbarton. 6:;.

Windsor Castle, The Goyemor's Gtilde to. By the Most Noble the Marquis

OP LoRNB, iCT. Profusely Illustrated. Limp doth, zs. Cloth boards, gilt edges, ss.

World of Wit and Hnmonr, Cassell'a With New Pictures and New Text
Complete in Two Vols., 6s. each.

With Claymore and Bayonet. By CoL Percy Groves. With 8 Plates. 3s. 6d.
Work. The Illustrated Journal for Mechanics. Half- Yearly Vols. 4s. 6d. each.

"Work "Handbooks. A Series of Practical Manuals prepared under the Direc-
tion of Paul N. Hasluck, Editor of Work. Illustrated. Cloth, xs. each.

World of Wonders, The. With 400 Illustrations. Cheap Edition, Two Vols.,
4s. 6d. each.

Tonng Blood. A Novel By E. W. HORNUNG. 6s.

ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINES AND PRACTICAL JOURNALS,

Hie Quiver. Monthly, 6d.

CaeseWs Magazine* Monthly, 6d.

lAttle Folks Magazine* Monthly, 6d.

The Magazine of Art. Monthly, is. 4d.

ikxsselVs Saturday Journal. Weekly, id. ; Monthly, 6d.

(Jhums. The Illustrated Paper for Boys. Weekly, id.; Monthly, 6d.

The New Fenny Magazine. Weekly, id. ; Monthly, 6d.

Tiny Tots. Monthly, id.

Work. Tbe Journal for Mechanics. Weekly, id. ; Monthly, 6d.

Suilding World. The Journal for the Building Trades. Weekly,
zd. ; Monthly, 6d.

The Gardener. Weekly, id«.
V Ftat particular 0/ CASSELL & COMPANY'S Monthly Serial PnhUcatlomi

wU he found in Cassrll & Company's COMPLETE CATALOGUE^which may
be had at all Booksellers', or will be sent post free on application to the Publishers.

CASSELL ft COMPANY, Luutkd. Ludg^aU Hill,

Stlatiom from Casseli 4t Company s Publications,

Sibks an5 fUlt0t0tt8 tSRorks.

Btllto BlOgT&ldllM. Illustrated, is. 6d. each.

The Story of JoMph. Its L »wom te To-d»y. Bf tha R«v. Gbokgb BAiNTONi
Tlia Story of Mosm and Joshua., By the Rer. J. Tblforu
ThO Btozy of Jud^M. By tha Rer. J. WVCUFFB Gedgb.
The Btoiy of Biniiel and BauL By tke Rev. D. C Tovbv.
Tho Btovjr of DaTld. By dia Rav. J. WnjDw

THO Story of Joana. la Vena. By J. R. BCacoupp. D.D. t$. tid.

Buds, CasaeU'B OqIiiml ^ATith 900 Illustrations and Coloured Maps. Royal 410.
Leather, ais. net. Persian antique, with comers and clasps, ass. net.

BlUe IHotioiiazy, OasBeU'i OoncUie. By the Rev. Robert Hunter, LL.D.

lUnstrated. 78. 6d.

JIUb Student In tliB BrltiBh Mnsenni, TIml By the Rev. J. a KncHm,

M. A. EtUirtfy Ntw mnd Rgvutd Edition^ zs. 4d.

Banyan, CasBeU'ininstratad. With aoo Original ninstrations. 3s. 6d. and 7s. 6d.

CQilld'B Bible, TlMi With aoo Illustrations. Demy 4to, 830 pp. Z50M Thousand,
Chsap EMtum, 7s. 6d. Superior EdUioH^ with 6 Coloured Plates, gilt edges, los. 6d.

Ohlld'B Ufe Of OhrlBt, The. Complete in One Handsome Volume, with about
aoo Ori^al Illustrations. Cktap Edition doth, 7s. 6d. ; or with 6 Coloured Plate^
cloth, gilt edges, zos. 6d.

Carandi of England, Tlie. A History for the Reople. Bv the Veiy Rey. H. D. ML
Spbncb, D.D., Dean of Gloucester. Illustrated. Complete in 4 Vols., 6s. each.

ahurch Befozm in Spain and PortngaL By the Rey. H. E. Noybs. D.D.

Illustrated, at. 6d.

Oommentazy for EngliBh Beadem Edited by Bishop Ellicott. With Con-
tributions by eminent Scholars and Divines :—

KewTeatament. Ptpulmr Bdmtn, Uaabridcad. Three Vols., 51. eack.
Old Taafeament. Pt^iarBdiUm, Uaabridfrad. Rve Vols., Sk eack.

Commentary, Tlie New Testament Edited by Bishop Elucott. Handy

Volume Edition. Suitable for School and General Use.

St. MatUiaw. as.<d.

SLaCark. 3*. ^

St. Iiuka. 3i.6d.

St. John. 3S. 6d.

TbM Aofca of tho Apoaflaa.

Sk6d.

Bomana. as.6d.

Coloaaiana, Thesaaloniaaa,
and Timofhy. 31.

Tltaa, Philemon, fiobrowa,
andJamea. 3Si

Pater, Judo, and John. gs.
The Kevelation. as.

An Introduotlon to the Vmw
Teatamant. 9B.6d.

Commentary, The Old Testament Edited by Bishop Elucott. Handy Volume

Edition. Suitable for School and General Use.

Oeneala. 9s. 6d. I IiefrltioTia. 3^ I Deuteronomy. a.M.

fixodua. 31. I Nnmbere. n.Cd. |

X>or6 Bible. With aoo Full-page Illustrations by Gustave Dor£. Papulosa
Edition, In One Vol. zss. Also in leather binding. {Prict an appiicaiion^

Bazly Days of Chrlstianltyt Tha By the Very Rev. Dean Farrar, D.D., F.R.SL
LiBKART Editiok. Two VoIs., 3^. ; monxxo, ;£a as.

PopuLAX Edition. In One Vol. ; doth, gilt edges, 7s. 6d. \ tree-calf, 159.
Chbap Edition. Qoth gilt, 3s. 6d.

Family Ftayer-Book, The^ Edited by the Rer. Canon Garbbtt, M.A., and
the Kev. S. BlaaTiN. With Full-page Illustrationa. Htm Edition, Clodi, 71^ 0^

SdtcHons from CasstU A Company s PubHcatUnu

"QraYttn In th« Rock ;" or, the Historical Accuracy of the Bible confirmed bjr
reference to the Ass]rrian and Egyptian Sculptures in the British Museum and else-
where. By the Rev. Dr. Samukl Kimns, F,K.A.S., ftc. &c Illustrated. Ltbraay
Editi4m, in Two Volumes, cloth, with top edges gilded, 158.

"Heart Chords." A Series of Works by Eminent Divines. In cloth, zs. each.

My Aspirattona. By the Rer. G. Mathaaon, D.IX
My Heraafteir. Bv the Vesy Rer. Dean Bicker*

-■- - *-*-
WVmXXkm

My Aida to the Bivlna HSIb, By the Van

Rer. Dean Bo^
My Sonroea of Strength. By die Rav. B. E.

JenkJss, M.A.
My Comfort in Borrow. By Hiwli

D.D. ^

My Father. By the Right Rer. Ashton Osendea,

late Bishop of MontreaL
My Bible. By the Rt. Rer. W. Boyd Cmrpentar,

Bishop of RipoB.
My Smotional Uftu By Preb. Chadwick, D.IX
My Body. By the Rer. VttO. W. G. Blaikie, D.IX
My SouL By the Rer. P. B. Power, M.A.
My Growth in Divine LifiB. By the

Prebendary Reynolds. M.A.

HtfpA to BelleC Helpful Manuals on the Religious Difficulties of the Day-
Edited by the Rer. Tbignmouth-Shoks, M. A., Canon of Worcester, xs. each.

MntACLBs. By the Bmw, Brownlow Matt- I Thk Atonbmbmt. By wiUlam Ooanor
land, M.A. | Macee, D JD.. late Archbiahop of York.

Holy Land and tbe Bible, The. A Book of Scripture Illustrations gathered in
Palestine. By the Rev. Cunningham Gbikib, D.D. Cheap Edition, Cloth
gilt, 7s. 6d. Also Superior Edition^ with 34 Collotype PUtes. Qoth gilt, gik
edges, xoa. 6d.

Ule ot ClirlBt^ Tbe. Bv the Very Rer. Dean Farrar, D.D., F.R.S.
Chkap Edition. With z6 Full-page Plates. Cloth eilt, 3s. 6d.
Popular Edition. With x6 Full-page Plates. Qoth gilt, gilt edges. 7s. 6d.
Illustrated 4to Edition. Cloth, gilt edges, tb. 6d.

life Of livea. Further Studies in the Life of Christ. By the Very Rev. Dean
Farrar. 15s.

Ibtln and Vesper Bella Earlier and Later Collected Poems (Chiefly Sacred).
By ). R. Macoupp, D.D. With Frontispiece. Two Vols. 7s. 6d. the set.

Methodism, Side-Ughts on the Conflicts of; During the Second Quarter of
the Nineteenth Century, z8a7-i85a. Cloth, 8s. Cheap Edition. Unabridged.
Cloth, 3s. 6d.

Mosei and Geology; or, the Harmony of the Bible with Science. By

the Rev. Samuel Kinns, Ph.D., F.R.AS. Illus. Library Edition, xos. 6d.

Old and New Testaments, Plain IntroductionB to the Books of tha Con-
taining Contributions by many Eminent Divines. In Two Vols., 3s. 6d. each.

Plain Introductions to the Books Of the Old Testament 336 pages. Edited by

Bishop Ellicott. 3s. 6d.

Plain Introductions to the Books of the New Testament. 304 pages. Edited by

Bishop Ellicott. 3s. 6d.

Protestantism, The History ol By the Rer. J. A. Wylib, LL.D. Containing
upwards of 600 Original Illustrations. Cheap Edition. In Three Vols., 3s. 6d. each.

"Qniyer" Yearly volume^ Tha V^th about 600 Original Illustrations and

Coloured Frontispiece. 7s. 6d. Also Monthly, 6d.

St Oeorge for England; and other Sermons preached. to Children. Fifth
Edition. By the Rev. Canon Tbignmouth-Shore, M. A 58.

St Paul, The Lilis and Work ot By the Vexy Rev. Dean Farrab, D. D., F. R.S.
Illustrated 4to Edition, ts. 6d.

Cheap Edition. With 16 Full-page Plates, doth gilt, 3s. 6d.
Library Editioh. Two Vols., cloth, S4S. ; calf, 4as.
Illustrated Edition, One Vol., £x zs. ; morocco, jCa m*
Popular Edition. Cloth, gilt edges, 7s. 6d.

Shortened Church Services and Hymns, suitable for use at Children's Services.

Compiled by the Rev. Canon Teignmouth-Shokb. Enlarged EdiHo$u la.
« Six Hundred Tears ; " or. Historical Sketches of Eminent Men and Women who

have more or less come into contact with the Abbey and Church of Holy TrinitT.

Minories, from 1003 to 1^3, and some account of the Incumbents, the Fabric, the

Plate, &C. &c By the Vicar, the Rev. Dr. Samuel Kinns, F.R.AS., &c. &c.

With 65 Illustrations. 155.

'Sttaftay:" Its Origin. History, and Present ObUgauon. By tbe Ven. Areb-
~ iBr.DX.U Fifth EditM0n^i%.fA.

SMUai^ms frmm Casseil dt C^mpanj^s FuSiuations.

(E2tti£ati0ital IBKorks an2t ^tdhtxAs ^anttala.

Hj^liabet, Oasaoiirt Pictorial Mounted on Linen, with Rollers, ss.
Mounted with Rolfen, and Varnished, as. 6d.

Azittunstle : — ^Howird't Art of BoCkooliiir. By C. F. Howard. Paper, is. :

doth, aa. Enlargtd Ediiitm, 5a.

AUttaiiMtlot, The *' Belle BauTai^'' By George Ricks. aSc Lond. With

Test Cards. {List 0m m^Ucatwm.)
AtlM, Caesell'e Popular. Containing 04 Coloured Maps. is. 6d.
Blackboard Drawing. By W. E. Sparkes. With 52 FuU-page Illustrations. 5s.
Book-Keeping. By Thbodokb Jones. For Schools, as. ; or cloth, 3s. For

THK M1LX.10N, as. ; or cloth, 3s. Boda Cor Jones's System, Ruled Sets of, as.

Brltltfi Empire Map of tlie World. By G. R. Parkin and J. G. Bartholomew.

F.R.G.S. Mounted or Folded, ass.

dieiiilatry, Tlie Pnblle Bohoid. Bf J. H. Anderson, M.A. as. 6d.

Ckxdcery for Schoola. By Lizzie Heritage. 6d.

Dolce DomnxiL Rhymes and Songs for Children. Edited by John Farmer.
Old Notation and Words, 5s. N.B.~The Words of the Songs (with the Airs both
in Tonic Sol-Fa and Old Notation) can be had in Two Parts, 6d. each.

England, A Hlstoxy of. From the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Present Day.
By H. O. AKNOLD-FoKSTUt, M.A. Riviud Edition. Fully Illustrated. 5s.

it"gn«>i Literature, A First Sketch o^ from the Earliest Period to the Present

Time. By ProC Hbnkt Morlet. 7s. 6d.
Baclld, Gassell'a. Edited by Prof. Wallace. M.A. is.

Bnidld, The Pint Four Books ot New Edition. In paper, 6d. ; cloth, Qd.

Paxm CroiMEi. By John Wrightson, M.R.A.C, etc. Fully Illustrated, as. 6d.

Founders of the Empire By Philip Gibbs. Illustrated. Qoth, is. 8d.
Bevelled boards, 2s. 6d

French, Gassell's Lessons In. New and Revised Edition. In Two Parts.
Cloth, as. each. Complete in One Vol., 3s. 6d. Key, is. 6d.

Ptench-EngUsh and English-French Dictionary. 3s. 6d. or 5s.
Qalhralth and Hanghton's Scientiflc Manuals.

Aateonomy. s>. Bnolid. Books U II.. III. ss. 6<L Books IV., V. . VL «.^ Hathomatloal

_ 6a. Optioa. as. 6d. Hydrostatios. x^ ' " '
Complete, 7s. 6d. Tides and Tidal Currents, with Tidal Cards, 3s.

Tables. 3s. 6d. Optioa. as. 6d. Hydrostatios. ». 6d. Alffebra. Part 1., doth. m. tfd.

flandeamns. Songs for Colleges and Schools. Edited by John Farmer. 5s.

Words only, paper, 6d. ; cloth, gd.

Geography, A Practical Method of Teaching. By J. H. Overton. F.G.S.

Vol. I. — England and Wales. VoL II. — Europe. 6d. each.

Geometry, First Elements Of Experimental. By Paul Bert. Illustrated. is.6d.

German DicUonaTy, Cassell's. German-English, English-German. Cheaf
Edition, cloth, 3s. 6d. ; half-morocco, 5s.

German Reading, First Lessons In. By A. JXgst. Illustrated, is.

Hand and Eye Training. By George Ricks. B.Sc, and Joseph Vaughan.

Illustrated. Vol. I. Designing with Coloured Papers. Vol. II. Cardboard Work,
as. each. Vol. III. Colour Work and Design. 3s.

Hand and Eye Training. By G. Ricks. B.Sc. Two Vols., with x6 Coloured

Plates in each. 6$. each. Cards for ClasS USC. Five Sets. zs. each.

Historical Cartoons, Cassell's Coloured. Size 45 in. x 35 in., as. each. Mounted

on canvas and varnished, with rollers, 5s. each. (Descriptive Pamphlet, 16 pp., id.)

In Danger's Hour ; or, Stout Hearts and Stirring Deeds. A Book of Adventures

for School and Home. With Four Coloured Plates and numerous Illustrations. Cloth,
IS. 8d. Bevelled boards, as. 6d.
Latin Dictionary, Cassell's. (Latin-English and English-Latin.) 3s. 6d.;
half- morocco. 5s.

Latin Primer, The First By Prof. Postgate. is.
Latin Primer, The New. By Prof. J. P. Postgate. 2s. 6d.
Latin Prose for Lower Forms. By M. A. Bayfield, M.A. 2s. 6d.
Laws of Every-day Life. For the Use of Schools. By H. O. Arnold-Forster.
-<- M.A. IS. 6d.

StUcHams from CasstB A CompoH'/s PibtUatimu,

Utao Folks' History of England. By Isa Craig-Knox. Illustrated, is. 6d.

Mailing of the Home, The. By Mrs. Samuel A. Barnett. is. 6d.

Map Bonding for Schools. A Practical Method of Teaching Geography

(England and Wales). By J. H. Ovbkton, F.G.S. 6d.
Marlhorotlgh Books: — Arltlimetio Sxample*. sp. yrenoh axwrotaea. sk6d. l>r«not&
Qrammar. «. 6d. G«muui Qrammar. jt. ^

Meohaiiics, AppUod. By John Perry, M.K, D.Sc., &c. Illustrated. 7s. 6d.

Mechanics for Toung Beginners. By the Rev. J. G. Easton, M.A. Cheap
Edition^ 9S. 6d.

Mechanics and Machine Design, Nnmerlcal Examples In Practical By

R. G. Blainb, M.E. New EdiHtm, Rtvistdand Enlar^d. With 79 lUus. as. 6d.
Metric Charts, Cassell's Approved. Two Coloured Sheets, 42 in. by 23^ in.,
illustrating by Designs and Explanations the Metric System, zs. each. Mounted
with Rollers, 3s. each. The two in one, with Rollers, 5s.

Models and Common Ohjects, How to Draw ftom. By W. E. Sparkes.

Illustrated. 3s.

Models, Common Ohjects, and Casts of Ornament, How to Shade from. By

W. E. Sparkbs. With 25 Plates by the Author. 3s.

Hatural History Colonred Wall Sheets, Cassell's New. Consisting of 16

subiects. Size, 39 by 31 in. Mounted on rollers and varnished. 3s. each.
Otdect Lessons from Nature. By Prof. L. C Mi all, F.L.S.. F.G.& Fully
Illustrated. Ntva and Eniarj^d Edition. Two Vols. zs. 6d. each.

Physiology for Schools. By Alfred T. Schofield, M.D.. M.R.C.S.. &c.

Illustrated, zs. 9d. Three Parts, paper covers, sd. each : or cloth limp, 6d. each.

Poetry for Children, Cassell'a 6 Books, id. each ; or complete in One Vol.,

limp cloth, 6d.

Popular Educator, Cassell'a With Illustrations, Coloured Plates, and Maps

in Colours. Cheap Editum, In Eight Vols., 38. 6d. each.

Bdaders, Cassell*s "Belle Sauyage." An Entirely New Series Fully Illus-
trated. Strongly bound in cloth. {List on application,)

Header, The Cltlsen. By H. O. Arnold-Forster. M.A. Cloth, zs. 6d. ; also a

Scottish Edition, clotl^ zs. 6d.
Headers, Cassell's Classical. Vol. I., is. 8d. ; Vol. II., 2s. 6d.
Beader, The Temperance. By J. Dennis HiRa is. or is. 6d,
Headers, Cassell's " Higher Class. " {List on application. )
Headers, Cassell's Readable. Illustrated. {List on application.)
Headers for Infant Schools, Coloured. Three Books. 4d. each.
Headers, Geographical, Cassell's New. Illustrated. (List on application,)
Headers, The Modem QeographlcaL Illustrated throughout. {List on application,)
Headers. The Modem SchooL Illustrated. {List on application.)
HoUt. An entirely novel system of learning French. By J. J. Ttlor. 3s.

Hound the Empire. By G. R. Parkin. With a Preface by the Rl Hon. the

Easl op Rosbbkky, K.G. Fully Illustrated, is. 6d.
Sculpture, A Primer ot By K Roscob Mullins. Illustrated, as. 6d.

Shakspere's Plays for School Use. Illustrated. 9 Books. 6d. each.

Spelling. A Complete Manual o£ By J. D. Morell. LUD. Ck)th. is. Cheap

Edition. Stiff cloth, 6d.
Technical Educator, Cassell's. A New Cvdopsedia of Technical Education,

with Coloured Plates and Engravings. Complete in Six Vols., 3s. 6d. each.
TfH^>'T!<«*-*^ Ma-nii«.ia, Casscll'a Illustrated throughouL 16 Vols., from ss. t0 4S. 6d.

{List free on application.)

Technology, Manuals o£ Edited by Prof. Ayrton, F.R.S.. and Richard

WoRMBLL, D.Sc., M. A. Illustrated throughout. {List on appUcatiom.)

Things New and Old ; or. Stories from English History. By H. O. Arnold-

FoKSTBR, M.A. Illustrated. Cloth. Seven Books, from od. to is. 8d.
Troubadour, The. Selections from English Verse. Edited and Annotated by

Philip Gibbs. zs. 6d.
World of Ours,ThlSw By H. O. Arnold-Forster. M. A. Fully Illustrated. Cheap

Edition^ as. 6d.

Toung Citizen, The ; or, Lessons in our Laws. By H. F. Lester, B. A. Fully
lUustraced. m. 6d. Also issued m Two Parts onder the title of ** Lessons in Om
Laws." zs. 6d. each.

StUctiont from CasuB A Cimipanys Publicaticnu

Soohs for f|0nn0 ^ttxifU.

Yhm Jungle Bdiool; or, Dr. JibtMr-Jabl)«r Borchall's Academy. By & H.

Hambk. With Four Coloured Plates and other Illustrations by Hakky B. Neilson.
Crown 4to, Picture Boards, xs. 6d.

Peter Plpere Peepshow; or. All the Fan of the Fair. By S. H. Hames.

With Four Colouted Plates and other Illustrations by Hakky B. Nbilsom and
Lbwis Baumbr. Crown 4to, Piaure Boards, xs. 6d.
Animal Land for Little People. By S. H. Hamer. Illustrated from Photo-

?raphs and Original Drawings, and containing Fouf Coloured Plates. Crown 4to,
icture Boards, is. 6d.
Kaeter Charlie. By C. S. Harsison and S. H. Hames. Illustrated.
Coloured boards, xs. 6d.

Whyi and Other Whys ; or, Cnrione Creatores and Their Tales. By a H.

Hambk. With Illustrations by Hakbv B. Nbilson. Paper boards, 3s. 6d. ; doch
boards, 5s.

Hloky MiMB^ee's Menagerie ; or, Btrango Animals and their Doings. By

S. H. Hambk. With 8 Coloured Plate* and other Illustrations by Hakky B. Nbilsoh.
Coloured Boards, xs. 6d.

The Master of the Strong Hearts. By E. S. Brcx>ks. Illustrated. 2s. 6d.

Two Old Ladies, Two Foolish Fairies, and a Tom Cat. The Surprising Ad-
ventures of Tuppy and Tue. A New Fairy Story. By Maggib Brownb. With
Four Coloured Plates and Illustrations in text. Cloth, 3s. 6d.

Britain's SOU of Glory ; or. The Victoria Gross, its Heroes, and their Valour.

By D. H. Pakry. With Eight Full-page Illustrations by Stanlby L. Wood.
Cfua^ Editum, Cloth, 3s. 6d.

The Victoria Fainting lk>ok for Uttte FOlks. Contaixiing about 300 Illus-
trations suitable for Colouring, xs.

''Uttle Folks" Half-Tearly VOlnmo. Containing 480 pages of Letterpress, with
Six Full-page Coloured Plates, and numerous other Pictures printed in Colour.
Picture boards, 3s. 6d. ; or doth gilt, gilt edges, 5s.

Bo-Pee|i. A Treasury for the Little Ones. Yearly Vol. With Original Stories
and Verses. Illustrated with Eight Full-page Coloured Plates, and numerous other
Pictures printed in Colour. Elegant picture boards, as. 6d. ; cloth, 3s. 6d.

Beneath the Banner. Being Narratives of Noble Lives and Bmve Deeds. By
F. J. Cross. Illustrated. Limp doth, za ; doth boards, as.

Good Morning ! Good Night I Morning and Evening Readings for Children, by
F. J. Cross. Illustraud. Lamp cloth, is. ; doth boards, as.

On Board the Hmteralda; or, Martin Leigh's Log. By John C. Hutcheson

Illustrated. Cheap Edition, xs. 6d.
Notable Shipwrecks. Cheap Edition. Revised and Enlarged, Limp doth, zs.
Superior Edition, With FuU-page Illustrations, aa

Beyond the Blue Mountains. By L. T. Meadb. -Illustrated. 5s.
Pleasant Work for Busy Fingers. By Maggie Browne. Illustrated. 2s. 6d.
Magic at Home. By Prof. Hoffman. Fully Illustrated. 3s. 6d.
Gift Books for Tonng People. By Popular Authora With Poor Original
Illustrations in each. Cloth gilt, zs. 6d. each.
_- . . -D^— «• "^^^ Thomson's Trial; or. "AU is not Gold

Jack Marston's Anohov. Buth's Ufe-Work; or."Ko Pains, no Qaias.-

Viiola WiUiain*s Otaarges.

Each book contains ao8 pages, with Four Full-page Original Illustratioas.

Crown Bvo, doth gilt, as.

•.PoremostiflOaa.- By Hekm Atteridge. | " ^Si'^AdtTXcSS^" "^ ^-"^ «««^

** Cross and Crown * Series, The. With Four Illustrations in each Book. Crown
8vo, 356 pages, a& 6d. each.

Beroes of the Tndian Empire; or. Stories of
V alour and Viotory. By Emett Foster.

Through. Trial to Triumph; or, "The
Boyal Way." By Madeline Boaavk Hunt.

StrocR to Sufferx A Stony of tlie Jews. By

£. Wynne.
By Tire and Sword: A SUnqr of tbt Huffue-

not& By Thomas Ardiab

Adam B:eplnint*s Vow t A Tale of Kirk aad
Covenant. 1^ Amiie S. Swan.

Ko. XIII. ; or. The Story of the Loat VeetaL
A Tale of Early Chriittaa Days. ]^ Emma

MarshalL

Vreedom's Bwordt A Buny of the Daya of
WaUaoe and Brooa. By Anaie SL