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II.

OXFORD, FLORENCE, DURHAM, FULHAM.

1837-1845.

FROM Eton I went straight to Oxford, without, like some of my contemporaries, spending a period with a private tutor. Unfortunately I was already well known at Balliol. In November of 1836 I had stood for a scholarship at that college, and had entered with the understanding that, if unsuccessful in the scholarship examination, I should be matriculated as a commoner. We left Eton one morning in high spirits, Thomas Farrer, Arthur Hobhouse, Pocock, and myself, travelling in a post-chaise and enjoying the journey greatly. The examination took place in the College Hall, and for some reason no Fellow presided and we were left to ourselves. There was at times a good deal of noise and laughing, and, rightly or wrongly, I got credited with more than my share in making it.

On the last day of the examination, when all the paper work was over, I was sent for by the Master, Dr. Jenkyns, to be taken in vivâ voce. When he

had heard me, he said, "You will not return to the Hall," but gave no reason. I had, however, arranged to go out with Hobhouse, and wanted to communicate with him. I accordingly disobeyed the Master's instruction, opened the door of the Hall, just put my head in, and began my explanation by calling out, "That ugly little devil”—. There I stopped. My remark was received with a death-like silence, in strange contrast to the hilarity of the previous days, but the reason was immediately apparent. Just behind the door stood the figure of one of the tutors, Mr. Tait. I vanished into space, and so did my chance of either scholarship or matriculation. Tait reported my evil words, and though the Master was willing to forgive me the Fellows objected, and I was refused admission to the College.

"I am returning," I added,

It was a doleful prospect. My father had set his heart upon my going to Balliol, and my name had been entered when I was quite a child. I wrote the same day and told him all. "in about half an hour to Eton. What is to be done? I will not try to extenuate my conduct, but I will leave you to view it in the best light. Of course I meant nothing, and it is a commonplace expression. I do let my spirits get beyond me. I do not know what to do." I had thought of going home and hiding my shame, but I went boldly back to Eton.

Some letters from my schoolfellows partially revived my despondent soul, and in a few days I

wrote to my father again. "I am sure, my dearest father, no one can feel more sorry about this than I do. I feel that I have been such a fool, and I am fully determined, if possible, to leave off my foolishness. I am glad the Master has not written to you, as I think it augurs well, as he himself does not mind about it. It is only the Fellows of the College. Unluckily the Master has written to Coleridge all about it, and added that I disturbed the which, if you believe me, is not true.

*

other candidates, For all the candidates who could be procured went to Dr. Jenkyns in a body and confirmed this, namely, that I did not disturb them. My tutor knows it all, for I thought it better to tell him. Besides, Coleridge informed him. He thinks that they were very resentful, and made too much row, although I myself think they could not pass it over in silence quite, though they might have hushed it up. A letter came from Reg. (Reginald Hobhouse) yesterday, who says that the Master told it as a joke. He is quite pacified. Coleridge says that he will not mention it to Hawtrey: he told me also that Hawtrey had lately told him that I was the most improving boy in his division."

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But the Master's dreaded letter only tarried, and that not for long. My "unseasonable mirth" showed that I was a young man not likely to pay deference to academical rules," and "the Fellows," said the Master, "therefore requested me not to proceed with his ad

* Headed by Northcote and Clough, who won the Scholarships.

mission." Comforters and intercessors were called in. George Selwyn (then a private tutor at Eton and my father's godson, afterwards Bishop of New Zealand and of Lichfield) advised me to make a clean breast of it to Hawtrey, who, strangely enough, had not heard of my disgrace. And I did so. Cookesley, my tutor, recommended me to write an apology to Dr. Jenkyns. And I did that. My father pleaded that I was only seventeen, and that it was nothing worse than a “too exuberant liveliness of disposition" which had led me "so far beyond discretion and good manners." College meeting was held, the offended Fellows were mollified, and early in December the Master wrote that I was to be allowed another trial, and, if meanwhile my conduct at Eton was good, I might be examined and matriculated at the end of Lent Term.

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It all turned out well. Hawtrey despatched me to Oxford with a flaming character, and on March 8, 1837, I became a member of Balliol College. Tait, it was said, protested to the end, and declared that the College would rue the day when it admitted me. But that was not to be the case. My first indiscretion was my last. As time went on and things changed with both of us, Tait and I became fast friends. I believe that he had for me the same affection that I had for him. Over and over again he showed me, both publicly and privately, the widest sympathy, and often stood by me when I was not exactly overwhelmed with clerical

support. He presented me a few years after he became Bishop of London to a prebendal stall in St. Paul's, and subsequently, when I was worn out with anxieties, appointed me to one of the best and most responsible benefices in his gift, the Rectory of St. Botolph, Bishopsgate.

Nor did the Master cherish a trace of resentment. We were always excellent friends. I went to stay with him once when he was Dean of Wells. After dinner a merry mood came over him, and he said, "Won't you take a glass of that port with the ugly little devil?" But I have heard that he really objected to the designation, at any rate in its entirety. "'Ugly,' I may be, 'little,' I certainly am, but I have yet to learn that I am a 'devil,'" was his analysis of my incautious phrase.

My tutor at Balliol was Scott, afterwards Master of the College, and since Dean of Rochester, but I am afraid that I was slow to profit by his kindness and instruction. The fact is that, though I always passed my examinations with ease and credit, things intellectual had no great attraction for me. But I did the next best thing, and always knew and liked the intellectual men, the Hobhouses, Stafford Northcote, Jowett, Temple, the Farrers, Goulburn, Waldegrave, and many others with whose fame the world has since become familiar. Sport absorbed my energies, and my aquatic propensities acquired on the Thames found full scope on the Isis.

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