The English Spy: An Original Work Characteristic, Satirical, And Humorous. C. M. Westmacott

to Jesus College;

       Paternal bounty left him clear

       For life one hundred pounds a year;

       And Jones was deem'd another Croesus

       Among the Commoners of Jesus.

       It boots not here to quote tradition,

       In proof of David's erudition;—

       He could unfold the mystery high,

       Of Paulo-posts, and verbs in u;

       Scan Virgil, and, in mathematics,

       Prove that straight lines were not quadratics.

       All Oxford hail'd the youth's ingressus, And wond'ring Welshmen cried "Cot pless us!" It happen'd that his cousin Hugh Through Oxford pass'd, to Cambria due, And from his erudite relation Receiv'd a written invitation.

      Hugh to the college gate repair'd,

       And ask'd for Jones;—the porter stared!

       "Jones! Sir," quoth he, "discriminate:

       Of Mr. Joneses there be eight."

       "Ay, but 'tis David Jones," quoth Hugh;

       Quoth porter, "We've six Davids too."

       "Cot's flesh!" cries Morgan, "cease your mockings,

       My David Jones wears worsted stockings!"

       Quoth porter, "Which it is, Heaven knows,

       For all the eight wear worsted hose."

       "My Cot!" says Hugh, "I'm ask'd to dine

       With cousin Jones, and quaff his wine."

       "That one word 'wine' is worth a dozen,"

       Quoth porter, "now I know your cousin;

       The wine has stood you, sir, in more stead

       Than David, or the hose of worsted;

       You'll find your friend at number nine—

       We've but one Jones that quaffs his wine."

      All these particulars I gleaned from the rapid delivery of the Welsh rector, who betrayed no little anxiety to discover if I was of the university; how long I had been matriculated; what was my opinion of the schools, and above all, if the same system of extravagance was pursued by the students, and under-graduates. Too cautious to confess myself a freshman, I was therefore compelled to close the inquiry with a simple negative to his early questions, and an avowal of my ignorance in the last particular. The deficiency was, however, readily supplied by an old gentleman, who sat on the other side of the reverend Mr. Jones. I had taken him, in the first instance, for a doctor of laws, physic, or divinity, by the studied neatness of his dress, the powdered head, and ancient appendage of a queue; with a measured manner of delivery, joined to an affected solemnity of carriage, and authoritative style. He knew every body, from the Vice-Chancellor to the scout; ran through a long tirade against driving and drinking, which he described as the capital sins of the sons of Alma Mater, complimented the old rector on his choice of a college for his son, and concluded with lamenting the great extravagance of the young men of the present day, whose affection for long credit compelled honest tradesmen to make out long bills to meet the loss of interest they sustain by dunning and delay. "Observe, sir," said he,

      "The youth of England in our happy age!

       See, to their view what varied pleasure springs,

       Cards, tennis, hilliards, and ten thousand things;

       'Tis theirs the coat with neater grace to wear,

       Or tie the neckcloth with a royal air:

       The rapid race of wild expense to run;

       To drive the tandem or the chaise and one;

       To float along the Isis, or to fly

       In haste to Abingdon—who knows not why?

       To gaze in shops, and saunter hours away

       In raising bills, they never think to pay:

       Then deep carouse, and raise their glee the more,

       While angry duns assault th' unheeding door,

       And feed the best old man that ever trod,

       The merry poacher who defies his God."

      "You forget the long purses, Sir E—," said our classical Jehu, "which some of the Oxford tradesmen have acquired by these long practices of the university, Sir E—." The little Welsh rector bowed with astonishment, while his rustic scion stared with wild alarm to find himself for the first time in his life in company with a man of title. A wink from coachee accompanied with an action of his rein angle against my side, followed by a suppressed laugh, prepared me for some important communications relative to my fellow traveller. "An old snyder,"{6} whispered Jehu, "who was once mayor of Oxford, and they do say was knighted by mistake—' a thing of shreds and patches,'

      'Who, by short skirts and little capes,

       Items for buckram, twist, and tapes, '

      has, in his time, fine drawn half the university; but having retired from the seat of trade, now seeks the seat of the Muses, and writes fustian rhymes and bell-men's odes at Christmas time: a mere clod, but a great man with the corporation."

      We had now arrived on the heights within a short distance of the city of Oxford, and I had the gratification for the first time to obtain a glance of sacred Academus peeping from between the elm groves in which she is embowered, to view those turrets which were to be the future scene of all my hopes and fears. Never shall I forget the sensations,

      "——When first these glistening eyes survey'd

       Majestic Oxford's hundred towers display'd;

       And silver Isis rolling at her feet

       Adorn the sage's and the poet's seat:

       Saw Radcliffe's dome in classic beauty rear'd,

       And learning's stores in Bodley's pile revered;

       First view'd, with humble awe, the steps that stray'd

       Slow in the gloom of academic shade,

       Or framed in thought, with fancy's magic wand,

       Wise Bacon's arch; thy bower, fair Rosamond."

      In the bosom of a delightful valley, surrounded by the most luxuriant meadows, and environed by gently swelling hills, smiling in all the pride of cultivated beauty, on every side diversified by hanging wood, stands the fair city of learning and the arts. The two great roads from the capital converge upon the small church of St. Clement, in the eastern suburb, from whence, advancing in a westerly direction, you arrive at Magdalen bridge, so named from the college adjoining, whose lofty graceful tower is considered a fine specimen of architecture. The prospect of the city from this point is singularly grand and captivating; on the left, the botanical garden, with its handsome portal; beyond, steeples and towers of every varied form shooting up in different degrees of elevation. The view of the High-street is magnificent, and must impress the youthful mind with sentiments of awe and veneration. Its picturesque curve and expansive width, the noble assemblage of public and private edifices in all the pride of varied art, not rising in splendid uniformity, but producing an enchantingly varied whole, the entire perspective of which admits of no European rival—

      "The awful tow'rs which seem for science made;

       The solemn chapels, which to prayer invite,

       Whose storied windows shed a holy light—"

      the colleges of Queen's and All Souls', with the churches of St. Mary and All Saints' on the northern side of the street, and the venerable front of University College on the south, present at every step objects for contemplation and delight. Whirling up this graceful curvature, we alighted at the Mitre, an inn in the front of the High-street, inclining towards Carfax. A number of under graduates in their academicals were posted round the door, or lounging on the opposite side, to watch the arrival of the coach, and amuse themselves with quizzing the passengers.