books, and the service is gone through at a
great pace. I couldn't think at first why some of the men seemed
so uncomfortable and stiff about the legs at morning service, but
I find that they are the hunting set, and come in with pea-coats
over their pinks, and trousers over their leather breeches and
top-boots; which accounts for it. There are a few others who seem
very devout, and bow a good deal, and turn towards the altar at
different parts of the service. These are of the Oxford
High-church school, I believe; but I shall soon find out more
about them. On the whole I feel less at home at present, I am
sorry to say, in the chapel, than anywhere else.

"I was very near forgetting a great institution of the college,
which is the buttery-hatch, just opposite the hall-door. Here
abides the fat old butler (all the servants at St. Ambrose's are
portly), and serves out limited bread, butter, and cheese, and
unlimited beer brewed by himself, for an hour in the morning, at
noon, and again at supper-time. Your scout always fetches you a
pint or so on each occasion in case you should want it, and if
you don't, it falls to him; but I can't say that my fellow gets
much, for I am naturally a thirsty soul, and cannot often resist
the malt myself, coming up as it does, fresh and cool, in one of
the silver tankards, of which we seem to have an endless supply.

"I spent a day or two in the first week, before I got shaken down
into my place here, in going round and seeing the other colleges,
and finding out what great men had been at each (one got a taste
for that sort of work from the Doctor, and I'd nothing else to
do). Well, I never was more interested; fancy ferreting out
Wycliffe, the Black Prince, our friend Sir Walter Raleigh, Pym,
Hampden, Laud, Ireton, Butler, and Addison, in one afternoon. I
walked about two inches taller in my trencher cap after it.
Perhaps I may be going to make dear friends with some fellow who
will change the history of England. Why shouldn't I? There must
have been freshmen once who were chums of Wycliffe of Queen's, or
Raleigh of Oriel. I mooned up and down the High-street, staring
at all the young faces in caps, and wondering which of them would
turn out great generals, or statesmen, or poets. Some of them
will, of course, for there must be a dozen at least, I should
think, in every generation of undergraduates, who will have a
good deal to say to the ruling and guiding of the British nation
befor