required all the enterprise of the present excellent Principal to
convert it into a place of sober study. It was then the most
'gentlemanly' residence in Oxford; for a gentleman in those days meant a
man who did nothing, spent his own or his father's guineas with a
brilliant indifference to consequences, and who applied his mind solely
to the art of frolic. It was the very place where Hook would be
encouraged instead of restrained in his natural propensities, and had he
remained there he would probably have ruined himself and his father long
before he had put on the sleeves.

At the matriculation itself he gave a specimen of his 'fun.'

When asked, according to the usual form, 'if he was willing to sign the
Thirty-nine Articles,' he replied, 'Certainly, sir, _forty_ if you
please.' The gravity of the stern Vice-Chancellor was upset, but as no
Oxford Don can ever pardon a joke, however good, Master Theodore was
very nearly being dismissed, had not his brother, by this time a
Prebendary of Winchester, and 'an honour to his college, sir,'
interceded in his favour.

The night before, he had given a still better specimen of his
effrontery. He had picked up a number of old Harrovians, with whom he
had repaired to a tavern for song, supper, and sociability, and as usual
in such cases, in the lap of Alma Mater, the babes became sufficiently
intoxicated, and not a little uproarious. Drinking in a tavern is
forbidden by Oxonian statutes, and one of the proctors happening to pass
in the street outside, was attracted into the house by the sound of
somewhat unscholastic merriment. The effect can be imagined. All the
youths were in absolute terror, except Theodore, and looked in vain for
some way to escape. The wary and faithful 'bulldogs' guarded the
doorway; the marshal, predecessor of the modern omniscient Brown,
advanced respectfully behind the proctor into the room, and passing a
penetrating glance from one youth to the other, all of whom--except
Theodore again--he knew by sight--for that is the pride and pleasure of
a marshal--mentally registered their names in secret hopes of getting
half-a-crown a-piece to forget them again.

No mortal is more respectful in his manner of accosting you than an
Oxford proctor, for he may make a mistake, and a mistake may make him
very miserable. When, for instance, a highly respectable lady was the
other day lodged, in spite of protestations, in the 'Procuratorial
Rooms,' and there locked