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

foremost of the group, and not the least active, was my old schoolfellow and con, Tom Echo, now of Christ Church. The recognition was instantaneous; the welcome a hearty one, in the true Etonian style; and the first connected sentence an invitation to dinner. "I shall make a party on purpose to introduce you, old chap," said Tom, "that is, as soon as you have made your bow to the big wig:{7} but I say, old fellow, where are you entered 1 we are most of us overflowingly full here." I quickly satisfied his curiosity upon that point, by informing him I had been for some time enrolled upon the list of the foundation of Brazennose, and had received orders to come up and enter myself. Our conversation now turned upon the necessary ceremonies of matriculation.

      Tom's face was enlivened to a degree when I showed him my letter of introduction to Dr. Dingyman, of L-n college. "What, the opposition member, the Oxford Palladio? Why, you might just as well expect to move the Temple of the Winds from Athens to Oxford, without displacing a fragment, as to hope the doctor will present you to the vice-chancellor.—It won't do. We must find you some more tractable personage; some good-humoured nob that stands well with the principals, tells funny stories to their ladies, and drinks his three bottles like a true son of orthodoxy." "For Heaven's sake! my dear fellow, if you do not wish to be pointed at, booked for an eccentric, or suspected of being profound, abandon all intention of being introduced through that medium. A first interview with that singular man will produce an examination that would far exceed the perils of the great go{8}-he will try your proficiency by the chart and scale of truth." "Be that as it may, Tom," said I, not a little alarmed by the account I had heard of the person to whom I was to owe my first introduction to alma mater, "I shall make the attempt; and should I fail, I shall yet hope to avail myself of your proffered kindness."

      7 A BIG WIG. Head of a college.

       A DON. A learned man.

       A NOB. A fellow of a college.

       8 The principal examining school.

      After partaking of some refreshment, and adjusting my dress, we sallied forth to lionise, as Tom called it, which is the Oxford term for gazing about, usually applied to strangers. Proceeding a little way along the high street from the Mitre, and turning up the first opening on our left hand, we stood before the gateway of Lincoln college. Here Tom shook hands, wished me a safe passport through what he was pleased to term the "Oxonia purgata" and left me, after receiving my promise to join the dinner party at Christ Church.

      I had never felt so awkwardly in my life before: the apprehensions I was under of a severe examination; the difficulty of encountering a man whose superior learning and endowments of mind had rendered him the envy of the University, and above all, his reputed eccentricity of manners, created fears that almost palsied my tongue when I approached the hall to announce my arrival. If my ideas of the person had thus confounded me, my terrors were doubly increased upon entering his chamber: shelves groaning with ponderous folios and quartos of the most esteemed Latin and Greek authors, fragments of Grecian and Roman architecture, were disposed around the room; on the table lay a copy of Stuart's Athens, with a portfolio of drawings from Palladio and Vitruvius, and Pozzo's perspective. In a moment the doctor entered, and, advancing towards me, seized my hand before I could scarcely articulate my respects. "I am glad to see you—be seated—you are of Eton, I read, an ancient name and highly respected here—what works have you been lately reading?" I immediately ran through the list of our best school classics, at which I perceived the doctor smiled. "You have been treated, I perceive, like all who have preceded you: the bigotry of scholastic prejudices is intolerable. I have been for fifty years labouring to remove the veil, and have yet contrived to raise only one corner of it. Nothing," continued the doctor, "has stinted the growth and hindered the improvement of sound learning more than a superstitious reverence for the ancients; by which it is presumed that their works form the summit of all learning, and that nothing can be added to their discoveries. Under this absurd and ridiculous prejudice, all the universities of Europe have laboured for many years, and are only just beginning to see their error, by the encouragement of natural philosophy. Experimental learning is the only mode by which the juvenile mind should be trained and exercised, in order to bring all its faculties to their proper action: instead of being involved in the mists of antiquity." Can it be possible, thought I, this is the person of whom my friend Tom gave such a curious account? Can this be the man who is described as a being always buried in abstracted thoughtfulness on the architer cural remains of antiquity, whose opinions are said never to harmonize with those of other heads of colleges; who is described as eccentric, because he has a singular veneration for truth, and an utter abhorrence of the dogmas of scholastic prejudice 1 There are some few characters in the most elevated situations of life, who possess the amiable secret of attaching every one to them who have the honour of being admitted into their presence, without losing one particle of dignity, by their courteous manner. This agreeable qualification the doctor appeared to possess in an eminent degree. I had not been five minutes in his company before I felt as perfectly unembarrassed as if I had known him intimately for twelve months. It could not be the result of confidence on my part, for no poor fellow ever felt more abashed upon a first entrance; and must therefore only be attributable to that indescribable condescension of easy intercourse which is the sure characteristic of a superior mind.

       After inquiring who was to be my tutor, and finding I was not yet fixed in that particular, I was requested to construe one of the easiest passages in the Æneid; my next task was to read a few paragraphs of monkish Latin from a little white book, which I found contained the university statutes: having acquitted myself in this to the apparent satisfaction of the doctor, he next proceeded to give me his advice upon my future conduct and pursuits in the university; remarked that his old friend, my father, could not have selected a more unfortunate person to usher me into notice: that his habits were those of a recluse, and his associations confined almost within the walls of his own college; but that his good wishes for the son of an old friend and schoolfellow would, on this occasion, induce him to present me, in person, to the principal of Brazennose, of whom he took occasion to speak in the highest possible terms. Having ordered me a sandwich and a glass of wine for my refreshment, he left me to adjust his dress, preparatory to our visit to the dignitary. During his absence I employed the interval in amusing myself with a small octavo volume, entitled the "Oxford Spy:" the singular coincidence of the following extract according so completely with the previous remarks of the doctor, induced me to believe it was his production; but in this suspicion, I have since been informed, I was in error, the work being written by Shergold Boone, Esq. a young member of the university.

      "Thus I remember, ere these scenes I saw,

       But hope had drawn them, such as hope will draw,

       A shrewd old man, on Isis' margin bred,

       Smiled at my warmth, and shook his wig, and said:

       'Youth will be sanguine, but before you go,

       Learn these plain rules, and treasure, when you know.

       Wisdom is innate in the gown and band;

       Their wearers are the wisest of the land.

      Science, except in Oxford, is a dream;

       In all things heads of houses are supreme {9}

       Proctors are perfect whosoe'er they be;

       Logic is reason in epitome:

       Examiners, like kings, can do no wrong;

       All modern learning is not worth a song:

       Passive obedience is the rule of right;

       To argue or oppose is treason quite:{10}

       Mere common sense would make the system fall:

       Things are worth nothing; words are all in all."

      On his return, the ancient glanced at the work I had been reading, and observing the passage I have just quoted, continued his remarks upon the discipline of the schools.—"In the new formed system of which we boast," said the master, "the philosophy which has enlightened the world is omitted or passed over in a superficial way, and the student is exercised in narrow and contracted rounds of education, in which his whole labour is consumed, and his whole time employed, with little improvement or useful knowledge. He has neither time nor