ral occasions in a confidential way the
statement that, "with the exception of a want of polish in his
Latin and Greek verses, which we seldom get except in the most
finished public school men--Etonians in particular--there has
been no better examination in the schools for several years." The
worthy tutor went on to take glory to the college, and in a lower
degree to himself. He called attention, in more than one common
room, to the fact that Hardy had never had any private tuition,
but had attained his intellectual development solely in the
_curriculum_ provided by St. Ambrose's College for the training
of the youth entrusted to her. "He himself, indeed," he would
add, "had always taken much interest in Hardy, and had, perhaps,
done more for him than would be possible in every case, but only
with direct reference to, and in supplement of the college
course."

The Principal had taken marked and somewhat pompous notice of
him, and had graciously intimated his wish, or, perhaps I should
say, his will (for he would have been much astonished to be told
that a wish of his could count for less than a royal mandate to
any man who had been one of his servitors) that Hardy should
stand for a fellowship, which had lately fallen vacant. A few
weeks, before, this excessive affability and condescension of the
great man would have wounded Hardy; but, somehow, the sudden rush
of sunshine and prosperity, though it had not thrown him off his
balance, or changed his estimate of men and things had pulled a
sort of comfortable sheath over his sensitiveness, and gave him a
second skill, as it were, from which the Principal's shafts
bounded off innocuous, instead of piercing and rankling. At
first, the idea of standing for a fellowship at St Ambrose's was
not pleasant to him. He felt inclined to open up entirely new
ground for himself, and stand at some other college, where he had
neither acquaintance nor association. But on second thoughts, he
resolved to stick to his old college, moved thereto partly by the
lamentations of Tom when he heard of his friends meditated
emigration but chiefly by the unwillingness to quit a hard post
for an easier one, which besets natures like his to their own
discomfort, but, may one hope, to the single benefit of the world
at large. Such men may see clearly enough all the advantages of a
move of this kind--may quite appreciate the ease which it would
bring them--may be impatient with themselves for not mak