s Oxford to "come on." He gives Milton a "blue,"
and says we oughtn't to play Shelley because Shelley isn't in
residence.

Now to me this is as astonishing as if my butcher were to brag about
Kirke White. My doctor might retort with Keats; and my scrivener--if I
had one--might knock them both down with the name of Milton. It would
be a pretty set-to; but I cannot see that it would affect the relative
merits of mutton and laudanum and the obscure products of scrivenage.
Nor, conversely (as they say at Cambridge), is it certain, or even
likely, that the difference between a butcher or a doctor is the
difference between Kirke White and Keats. And this talk about
"University" poets seems somewhat otiose unless it can be shown that
Cambridge and Oxford directly encourage poesy, or aim to do so. I am
aware that somebody wins the Newdigate every year at Oxford, and that
the same thing happens annually at Cambridge with respect to the
Chancellor's Prize. But--to hark back to the butcher and
apothecary--verses are perennially made upon Mr. Lipton's Hams and
Mrs. Allen's Hair Restorer. Obviously some incentive is needed beyond
a prize for stanzas on a given subject. I can understand Cambridge men
when they assert that they produce more Wranglers than Oxford: that is
a justifiable boast. But how does Cambridge encourage poets?

Calverley.

Oxford expelled Shelley: Cambridge whipped Milton.[A] _Facit
indignatio versus_. If we press this misreading of Juvenal, Oxford
erred only on the side of thoroughness. But that, notoriously, is
Oxford's way. She expelled Landor, Calverley, and some others. My
contention is that to expel a man is--however you look at it--better
for his poesy than to make a don of him. Oxford says, "You are a poet;
therefore this is no place for you. Go elsewhere; we set your aspiring
soul at large." Cambridge says: "You are a poet. Let us employ you to
fulfil other functions. Be a don." She made a don of Gray, of
Calverley. Cambridge men are for ever casting Calverley in our teeth;
whereas, in truth, he is specially to be quoted against them. As
everybody knows, he was at both Universities, so over him we have a
fair chance of comparing methods. As everybody knows, he went to
Balliol first, and his ample cabin'd spirit led him to climb a wall,
late at night. Something else caused him to be discovered, and
Blaydes--he was called Blaydes then--was sent down.

Nobody can say what splendid effect this might ha