e to his age. "There are seventy-four
reasons against it," he said. Fortunately he yielded. "The
temptation of going back to Oxford in a respectable way," he wrote
to Skelton, "was too much for me. I must just do the best I can, and
trust that I shall not be haunted by Freeman's ghost." Lord
Salisbury did a bold thing when he appointed Froude successor to
Freeman. Froude had indeed a more than European reputation as a man
of letters, and was acknowledged to be a master of English prose.
But he was seventy-four, five years older than Freeman, and he had
never taught in his life, except as tutor for a very brief time in
two private families. The Historical School at Oxford had been
trained to believe that Stubbs was the great historian, that Freeman
was his prophet, and that Froude was not an historian at all. Lord
Salisbury of course knew better, for it was at Hatfield that some of
Froude's most thorough historical work had been done. Still, it
required some courage to fly in the face of all that was pedantic in
Oxford, and to nominate in Freeman's room the writer that Freeman
had spent the best years of his life in "belabouring." Some critics
attributed the selection to Lord Salisbury's sardonic humour, or
pronounced that, as Lamb said of Coleridge's metaphysics, "it was
only his fun." Some stigmatised it as a party job. Gladstone's
nominee Freeman, had been a Home Ruler, Froude was a Unionist; what
could be clearer than the motive? But both nominations could be
defended on their own merits, and a Regius Professorship should not
be the monopoly of a clique.

Lord Salisbury's choice of Froude was indeed, like Lord Rosebery's
subsequent choice of Lord Acton for Cambridge, an example which
justified the patronage of the Crown. A Prime Minister has more
courage than an academic board, and is guided by larger
considerations. Froude was one of the most distinguished living
Oxonians, and yet Oxford had not even given him an honorary degree.
Membership the Scottish Universities Commission in 1876 was the only
official acknowledgment of his services to culture that he had ever
received, and that was more of an obligation than a compliment.
"Froude," said Jowett, "is a man of genius. He has been abominably
treated." Lord Salisbury had made amends. Himself a man of the
highest intellectual distinction, apart from the offices he happened
to hold, he had promoted Froude to great honour in the place he
loved best, and the most emi