1 Seat of magistracy--proctor's authority.

52 The tact of the Oxford tradesmen in this particular is
very ingenious.--The strength of a man's account is always
regulated by the report they receive on his entering, from
some college friend, respecting the wealth of his relations,
or the weight of his expectancies.

~143~~

"Because it's extra-proctorial, sir: none of the town _raff_ are ever
admitted into it, and the marshal and his bull dogs never think of
intruding here. With your leave, sir, I'll send in master--he will
explain things better; and mayhap, sir, as you are fresh, he may give
you a little useful information." "Do so,--send me in a bottle of old
Madeira and two glasses, and tell your master I shall be happy to see
him." In a few moments I was honoured with the company of mine host of
the Mitre, who, to do him justice, was a more humorous fellow than I had
anticipated. Not quite so ceremonious as he of the Christopher at
Eton, or the superlative of a Bond-street _restaurateur_; but with an
unembarrassed roughness, yet respectful demeanour, that partook more of
the sturdy English farmer, or an old weather-beaten sportsman, than
the picture I had figured to myself of the polished landlord of the
principal inn in the sacred city of learning. We are too much the
creatures of prejudice in this life, and first impressions are not
unfrequently the first faults which we unthinkingly commit against the
reputation of a new acquaintance. Master Peake was, I discovered, a
fellow of infinite jest, an old fox-hunter, and a true sportsman; and
supposing me, from my introduction by Tom Echo to his house, to be as
fond of a good horse, a hard run, and a black bottle, as my friend, he
had eagerly sought an opportunity for this early introduction. "No man
in the country, sir," said Peake, "can boast of a better horse or a
better wife: I always leave the management of the bishop's cap to the
petticoat; for look ye, sir, gown against gown is the true orthodox
system, I believe.--When I kept the Blue Pig{53} by the Town Hall, the
big wigs used to grunt a little now and then about the gemmen of the
university getting _bosky_ in a _pig-sty_; so, egad, I thought I would
fix them at last, and removed here; for I knew it would be deemed
sacrilegious to attack the mitre, or hazard a pun upon the head of the
church.

53 The Blue Boar, since shut up.

~144~~ If ever you should be _tiled_ up in _Ea