rs; the fellows and tutors, perhaps, in half a dozen;
and every generation has its own fashion. There is no principle of
stability in Oxford, except the Heads, and they are always the same,
and always will be the same to the end of the chapter. What is in now,"
he asked, "among you youngsters--drinking or cigars?"

Charles laughed modestly, and said he hoped drinking had gone out
everywhere.

"Worse things may come in," said Mr. Malcolm; "but there are fashions
everywhere. There was once a spouting club, perhaps it is in favour
still; before it was the music-room. Once geology was all the rage; now
it is theology; soon it will be architecture, or medieval antiquities,
or editions and codices. Each wears out in its turn; all depends on one
or two active men; but the secretary takes a wife, or the professor gets
a stall; and then the meetings are called irregularly, and nothing is
done in them, and so gradually the affair dwindles and dies."

Sheffield asked whether the present movement had not spread too widely
through the country for such a termination; he did not know much about
it himself, but the papers were full of it, and it was the talk of every
neighbourhood; it was not confined to Oxford.

"I don't know about the country," said Mr. Malcolm, "that is a large
question; but it has not the elements of stability here. These gentlemen
will take livings and marry, and that will be the end of the business. I
am not speaking against them; they are, I believe, very respectable men;
but they are riding on the spring-tide of a fashion."

Charles said it was a nuisance to see the party-spirit it introduced.
Oxford ought to be a place of quiet and study; peace and the Muses
always went together; whereas there was talk, talk, in every quarter. A
man could not go about his duties in a natural way, and take every one
as he came, but was obliged to take part in questions, and to consider
points which he might wish to put from him, and must sport an opinion
when he really had none to give.

Mr. Malcolm assented in a half-absent way, looking at the view before
him, and seemingly enjoying it. "People call this county ugly," said he,
"and perhaps it is; but whether I am used to it or no, I always am
pleased with it. The lights are always new; and thus the landscape, if
it deserves the name, is always presented in a new dress. I have known
Shotover there take the most opposite hues, sometimes purple, sometimes
a bright saffron o