es, and a lack of
continuity in the studies and in the government of the University.
Every three years a new wave of young masters came in, carried a
reform in the system of teaching and examining, and then left to make
room for a new wave which brought new ideas, before the old ones had a
fair trial. Senior members of the University, heads of houses and
professors, have no more voting power than the young men who have just
taken their degrees, nay, have in reality less influence than these
young Masters, who always meet together and form a kind of compact
phalanx when votes are to be taken. There was even a Non-placet club,
ready to throw out any measure that seemed to emanate from the
reforming party, or threatened to change any established customs,
whether beneficial or otherwise to the University. The University, as
such, was far less considered than the colleges, and money drawn from
the colleges for University purposes was looked upon as robbery,
though of course the colleges profited by the improvement of the
University, and the interests of the two ought never to have been
divided, as little as the interests of an army can be divided from the
interests of each regiment.

When I came to Oxford there was still practically no society except
that of the Heads of Houses, and there were no young ladies to grace
their dinners. Each head took his turn in succession, and had twice or
three times during term to feed his colleagues. These dinners were
sumptuous repasts, though they often took place as early as five. To
be invited to them was considered a great distinction, and, though a
very young man, I was allowed now and then to be present, and I highly
appreciated the honour. The company consisted almost entirely of Heads
of Houses, Canons, and Professors; sometimes there was a sprinkling of
distinguished persons from London, and even of ladies of various ages
and degrees. I confess I often sat among them, as we say in German,
_verrathen und verkauft_. After dinner I saw a number of young men
streaming in, and thought the evening would now become more lively.
But far from it. These young men with white ties and in evening dress
stood in their scanty gowns huddled together on one side of the room.
They received a cup of tea, but no one noticed them or spoke to them,
and they hardly dared to speak among themselves. This, as I was told,
was called "doing the perpendicular," and they must have felt much
relieved when towa