may often, when encountering its billows, have wished he had never quitted her.

But is there no pedantry? Yes! but who shall say that pedantry, though the greatest of bores to others, is not very satisfactory to ourselves? Pedantry there is among those who, with all their learning, know not the world; but pedantry is not confined to Greek and Latin, nor even to books. There is pedantry in a fox-hunter, pedantry in all professions. Who such pedants as lawyers, if they have never been out of Westminster Hall? Who, even as soldiers themselves, if never out of a camp?

Upon the whole, then, the sum of happiness in a university life seemed to me to be great, whether as a cradle for the future votary of the world, or the asylum of him who, having acted his part, quits it.

SECTION III.

A COUNTRY SQUIRE OF THE OLD SCHOOL, MIXED

WITH A GOOD DEAL OF THE PHILOSOPHER.

"Thy greyhounds are as swift as breathed stags,
Aye! fleeter than the roe."

TAMING OF A SHREW.

I left Oxford in a pensive, or rather melancholy mood. I stopped often to look back upon its towers, its battlements and spires, the growth of ages, and, for all that time, the parent of those who have most enlightened, polished, or protected the land. This, indubitably, was not the cause of my melancholy: but to think how soon Oxford may be overthrown, and her foundations destroyed, under pretence of the public good; how soon she may become a prey to the sinister designs of knaves, with economy in their mouths, and pillage in their hearts, distressed me.

The all-destroying fiend of mischief and robbery, under the mask of Reformation, which is too irksome for him to wear, even for the few minutes necessary to his designs, has already

whetted his beak and sharpened his talons, which, if Providence doth not fight for us, will in the end destroy these once happy seats. I say, unless Providence fight for us; because it should seem we dare not fight for ourselves, but are left to the will of the spoiler. Oxford therefore will and must sink in the general wreck, and her magnificent institutions and august associations will be talked of as things that have been.

With these reflections my way was melancholy, until I was out of reach of the associations that prompted them. I then began once more to think over the object of my search, without well knowing how to pursue it.

In this temper of mind I rode on in silence (for there was little to interrupt it) over the extensive downs that encircle Ilsley, well known to every Oxford supper. These separate the county from the landscapes of Berkshire, where I longed to be; for my spirits were not raised by seeing nothing, for many miles, but now and then a solitary shepherd marshalling his flock.

I was tired of my thoughts, and began to long for the hospitable chimneys of Speenham, which were still a long way off; when of a sudden, over the brow of one of the downs, I beheld a company, tolerably large, both horse and foot, who came gallantly down the steep after a brace of

greyhounds, which I had not at first seen. They were in the midst of a full course, which soon ended by the capture of their prey, almost under my horse's feet. This brought me immediately in contact with some dozen of persons, gentlemen and others, one of whom, who seemed to be the master, greeted me with great civility.

His appearance was rather what we have read of, than what we now see. His large lapelled coat and slashed cuffs were ornamented with large plated buttons, on which were stamped the figure of a horse and jockey. The coat was what is called of a sad colour, but much enlivened by a scarlet waistcoat with a streak of fur round the collar. This, and a very shallow-crowned hat, denoting a fashion of some forty or fifty years ago, formed his outward costume. There was, however, a great freshness and good-nature in his countenance, and an eye uncommonly quick. He seemed about fifty years of age. He was well mounted, and at both the bow and crupper of his saddle hung the bodies of some four or five hares, which they had taken that morning; and an attendant, who had a gold binding round his hat, something between a groom and a keeper, and was as well mounted as his master, bore as many spoils at bow and crupper too.

The company having all assembled, congratu

you

lated the squire on the running of his dogs. Why, aye!" said he, "I never knew them behave better. Sir," he continued, addressing himself to me, "I think by your horse, which is as perfect at all points as I remember to have scen, you must be a sportsman, and I think will say, you never saw a better double than that last." I entirely assented, and praised the dogs so much, that I won the gentleman's good-will, who, pulling out his watch and perceiving it was four o'clock, moreover observing that they had had a very successful day, proposed going home, and in very civil terms asked me to accompany them.

I was not sorry for the invitation, being, in truth, in need of a little diversion to my thoughts; to say nothing of my being tired of a monotonous ride, and that my new acquaintance seemed to promise food for curiosity. I excused myself, therefore, in a very nolo episcopari manner, and though much obliged, said I must hasten to get to Newbury or Speenham to dinner.

"If you have any engagement there," returned the gentleman, "well! but if not, as Newbury is still some miles off, and you can put up with a round of beef, which will be on the table in half an hour, we shall be delighted to have your company." Then, again, surveying my horse, he