We have expounded with some particularity the conditions of University life; we have now to deal with University life in its more intimate relations. And first we must say something of the title, the Latinity of which is not above suspicion, though its convenience and expressiveness are beyond question. The term studium generale was applied, in mediÆval times, to an academy in which instruction was imparted on all subjects, and which was thus differentiated from grammar schools and schools of divinity, in the former of which the curriculum was restricted to Latin, and in the latter to theology. The phrase connoted also a place of common resort, as distinct from mere local foundations, the advantages of which were confined to the immediate neighbourhood. According to Mr. Froude, no fewer than thirty thousand students "gathered out of Europe to Paris to listen to Abelard"; and the traditions of Oxford and Cambridge were equally hospitable.

The "Nations"

Before discussing the system of degrees, it is desirable to speak of the "men"—the candidates for graduation; and, in this connexion, stress must be laid on the cosmopolitan character of our older universities, which welcomed with open arms students of various races and of all ranks of society. The Oxford statutes contain a provision for the proclamations being made in Latin, that language being, as it is stated, intelligible to the different nations represented by the scholars. In addition to the native youth, Welshmen, Irishmen, and Scots were accustomed to repair to the banks of the Isis and the Cam, and the two former of these classes—at any rate at their first coming—might have been totally ignorant of English.

The reader will hardly fail to have been struck with the occurrence of Welsh names in the foregoing pages; and the records of judicial proceedings mention the case of a Cambrian scholar, who stole a horse from the stable of an Oxford inn and decamped with it, in the company of several compatriots, to the Welsh mountains, in consequence of which the unhappy innkeeper had to defend a suit brought against him by the horse's owner! Notices of the Irish and the Scots are no less characteristic of their imputed traits. Of the presence of the former there is interesting testimony in petitions to the Crown on the part of scandalized townsmen, in one of which they set forth that "there have been murders, felonies, robberies, and riots, &c., lately committed in the counties of Oxford, Berks, Wilts, and Bucks, by persons coming to the town under the jurisdiction of the University, some of whom are the King's lieges born in Ireland and the others his enemies called 'Wylde Irisshmen'; and that these misdeeds continue daily to the scandal of the University and the ruin of the country round about; the malefactors threaten the King's officers and the bailiffs of the town, so that these last, for fear of death, dare not do their duty and collect the fee-farm, &c. Pray therefore that all Irish be turned out of the realm between Christmas and Candlemas next, except graduates in the schools, beneficed clergy in England, those who have English father or mother, or English husband or wife, and many other exceptions, persons of good repute. And that graduates and beneficed men find surety for their good behaviour."

The Scots were cordially hated. Tryvytlam's poem "De Laude OxoniÆ" has the following stanzas, which, in the opinion of some, may be still apposite to the circumstances of University and national life:

Iam loco tercio procedit acrius
Armata bestia duobus cornibus.
Hanc Owtrede reputo, qui totis viribus
Verbis et opere insultat fratribus.
Hic Scottus genere perturbat Anglicos,
Auferre nititur viros intraneos.
Sic, sic, Oxonia, sic contra filios
Armas et promoves hostes et exteros.

By "Owtrede" is intended Uthred de Bolton, a celebrated English Benedictine, whose cognomen was probably derived from the manor of Bolton in Northumberland. It was a risky thing to hail from the border, as another instance is recorded in which a North-countryman found it necessary to purge himself of the imputation of being a Scot—one of the King's enemies.

The amazing part of the matter is that national distinctions and prejudices did not, as far as the British Isles were concerned, end here. In point of fact, when the word "nations" occurs in this connexion, the allusion is generally not so much to genuine differences of descent, government, customs, and language, as to an artificial separation of the inhabitants of England into North and South countrymen. The authorities deplored this division into Boreals and Australs—"diverse nations, which, in truth, be not diverse"—but they could not ignore it, and thus it became the established rule that of the two proctors—officials supremely responsible for the peace—one should be of the North and the other of the South. As we have seen, a similar practice obtained with regard to the University chests. Just as, at the present time, Welshmen and Scotsmen gravitate towards particular colleges, so in the early days "nations" seem to have favoured certain halls, and as few of the latter were provided with chapels, they appear also to have fixed upon certain churches for the purpose of devotion of partisan display. Accordingly, about the year 1250, the following edict was fulminated with a view to checking the exuberance of the "national" spirit in sacred buildings:

"By the authority of the Lord the Chancellor and the Masters Regent, with the unanimous consent of the Non-Regent, it is decreed and resolved that no festival of any nation soever be celebrated henceforth in any church soever with the accustomed solemnity and calling together of Masters and Scholars or other acquaintances, save in so far as any may desire to celebrate the festival of any saint of his own diocese with devotion in his own parish, where he lives, but not calling the Masters and Scholars of a second parish or his own, as also is not done at the festivals of St. Katherine, St. Nicholas, and the like. This also, decreed by the authority of the same Chancellor, we enjoin to be observed, on pain of the greater excommunication, that none lead dances with masks or any noise in churches or streets, or go anywhere wreathed or crowned with a crown composed of the leaves of trees, or flowers, or what not: on pain of excommunication, which we inflict from now, and of long imprisonment do we forbid it."

In 1252 a great disturbance arose between the Northern and Irish scholars, and it was resolved that twelve persons should be chosen on either side to draw up conditions of peace. These were that thirty or forty of each party should bind themselves not to disturb the peace of the University themselves nor comfort others in doing so, and they were to give secret information to the Chancellor if they should hear of any other person transgressing. If anyone was injured, he was to appear before the Chancellor; and if the Chancellor was suspected of partiality, there were to be associated with him two assessors from either side.

In 1313 a statute was issued that no one was to stir up any nation on account of some personal injury by conspiracies, leagues, or meetings in public or private with the name or title of nation; and that when the Chancellor or his Commissary inquired concerning a breach of the peace, none was to appear with other than the witnesses needful to him; nor was any Master or other to thrust himself in, coming with a party or sitting beside the Chancellor or his Commissary, save such as the Chancellor should hold it right to summon forth, if at any time it seemed to him fit. Seeing that the names of delinquents could be better learned through the Principals of Houses, who moved continually among their associates, it was determined that every Principal, resident or acting, as well of Halls as of Chambers, should, at the beginning of every year, within fifteen days or sooner, as should seem fit to the Chancellor and Proctors, come and make corporal oath, that if they knew of any of their society holding such assemblies, or consenting with those who held them, or commonly and often naming different nations with evil zeal, or disturbing the peace of the University, or practising the art of bucklery, or keeping a whore in his house, or bearing arms or in any way promoting discord between Northerns and Southerns, he should within three days inform the Chancellor or one of the Proctors, and all such disturbers of the peace were to be punished with imprisonment. This oath the servants were bound to take at the same time; and the Chancellor and Proctors, as touching their part, acknowledged themselves to be equally bound by virtue of the statute.

In order that such distinction of nations might henceforth be detestable and hateful to all, it was resolved that the following clause should be added to the oath of every incepting Master with respect to the observance of peace.

"Item, Master, especially shall you swear that you will not hinder, as between Australs and Boreals, peace, concord, and affection; and if there shall have arisen any dissension between them, as between diverse nations, which in truth be not diverse, you will not foment or kindle it to the utmost, nor must you be present at assemblies, nor tacitly or expressly consent to them, but rather hinder them in such ways as you shall be able."

By the same statute the University was bound to intimate to the diocesan the names of all persons, whether Masters or others, who should disturb the peace of the University, and particularly as between the Northern and Southern students.

In 1428 fresh legislation was found to be necessary, and took the following form:

"Whereas there is no better way of punishing the disturbers of the peace than by a pecuniary fine, which in these days is more dreaded than anything else, therefore the following graduated scale of fines is put forth by the University. For threats and personal violence, twelve pence; for carrying of weapons, two shillings; for pushing with the shoulder or striking with the fist, four shillings; for striking with a stone or club, six shillings and eightpence; for striking with a knife, dagger, sword, axe, or other weapon of war, ten shillings; for carrying of bows and arrows, twenty shillings; for gathering of armed men and conspiring to hinder the execution of justice, thirty shillings; for resisting the execution of justice, or going about by night, forty shillings. And no Master or scholar shall take part with any other because he is of the same country, nor against him because he is of a different country; and if he be convicted of doing so, he shall incur an additional penalty graduated according to his pecuniary circumstances."

That the scholars indulged freely in the pleasant custom of hunting may, after this, be almost taken for granted. In a petition of the year 1421 complaint was made against them that they hunted with dogs and harriers in divers warrens, coningries, parks, and forests in the counties of Oxford, Berks, and Bucks, night and day, taking deer, hares, and rabbits, and menacing the wardens and keepers. Sometimes they contrived to combine their love of hunting with their love of street-fighting, as on the memorable occasion in Queen Elizabeth's reign, when the Magdalen men went deer-stealing in Shotover Forest, and one of them was sent to prison by Lord Norris, the Lord Lieutenant of the county. In revenge, the next time my Lord came to Oxford they set upon him at the Bear Inn, and, in the skirmish, several of the scholars were hurt, and "Binks," his lordship's keeper, sustained a severe wound. The Vice-Chancellor, intervening at this juncture, ordered the scholars to be confined to the college, while Lord Norris was requested to quit the University. Thereupon the former "went up to the top of their tower, and waiting till he should pass by towards Ricot, sent down a shower of stones they had picked up upon him and his retinue, wounding some and endangering others of their lives. It is said that upon the foresight of this storm divers had got boards, others tables on their heads to keep them from it, and that if the Lord had not been in his coach or chariot, he would certainly have been killed." In the sequel, the culprits were banished, and the Lord Lieutenant placated, albeit "with much ado by the sages of the University."

How on earth serious study could be pursued amidst these perpetual broils, to the engendering of which so many prejudices contributed, would be an insoluble mystery but for the probability, suggested by experience of University life in our own day, that the disturbances were confined, in the main, to the wilder spirits, though it may well be that occasionally peaceable persons were sucked into the vortex by the accident of their being abroad at the time, and on the scene of the affray, where their pacific character would receive scant consideration from the angry combatants. Esprit de corps also was a powerful incentive to action, and one from which even Masters were not exempt. To this must be added that the course of study itself seemed expressly devised to foster the belligerent temper. The air was laden with the breath of strife, as the Cambridge term "wrangler," which has survived to our day, plainly testifies.

The Highway of Learning

Let us follow the "poor boy," a technical expression at Oxford, through the stages of his academic career in that University. At the outset two courses were open to his parents or guardians: either he might be sent to a religious foundation like Durham College, where he would be under no obligation to take vows, but an oath would be required of him to honour the monks and assist the electing Church, to whatever station of life it might please God to call him. Or, as was infinitely more usual, he might be settled in a secular school of grammar in charge of a recognized master.

Before the rise of colleges, the vast majority of scholars resided in halls, some of which were kept by laymen. In 1421 the King, incensed at the constant breaches of the peace, commanded that all scholars and their servants should be under the governance of some sufficient principal approved by the Chancellor and Proctors, and should not be suffered to abide in laymen's houses. In 1432 a statute set forth that, whereas the principals of halls, fearing to lose their profits, did not punish the members of their societies, still less did they dismiss them, when it was their duty to do so; nay, even provoked disturbances—the consequence, it was believed, of illiterate persons and non-graduates keeping halls—it was ordained that henceforth all principals and their deputies must be graduates. In the preamble of another statute of the same date it was complained that grave crimes were committed by so-called scholars, who, nefando nomine "chamberdekenys," lived in no hall, but slept away their days, and passed their nights in riot and debauchery, crime and violence. This irregularity it was found difficult to suppress, for on May 13, 1447, two persons feigning to be scholars and guilty of violence, having been summoned according to law throughout the schools and not appearing, were banished. The form of banishment was as follows: "A, B, C, D, frequently convicted of a monstrous disturbance of the peace, and, according to the manners and forms accustomed to be observed in this University, duly cited, publicly cried, lawfully awaited, and in no wise appearing, but contumaciously refusing to obey the law, alike on account of their contumacies and offences we do ban from this University, and from neighbouring places, admonishing firstly, secondly, and thirdly, peremptorily, that none do receive, cherish, or protect the aforesaid A, B, C, D, on pain of imprisonment and the greater excommunication to be fulminated not unjustly against all who contravene."

Matriculation involved nothing more than an oath to keep the peace, which oath had to be taken also by the servant of the scholar, supposing him to have one. If the scholar chose a non-graduate teacher, he was compelled to enter his name in the books of some master of arts, and neglect to fulfil this requirement subjected the delinquent to the loss of the protection and privileges of the University tam morte quam in vita. At the commencement of every term as well as at the end, and at other times, when need was, the grammar masters held a convenite for the purpose of arranging the course of study. Each of them had to obtain a licence, and, as a test of his qualifications, he submitted to an examination in versification, dictation, and so forth, lest, as the statute quaintly expresses it, the language of Isaiah should be verified—Multiplicasti gentem, non auxisti lÆtitiam.

The masters were charged with the training of their scholars in religion and morals—an onerous duty in too many cases imperfectly performed. This is shown not only by the lawlessness prevalent in the University, but by the low views and low practices that characterized methods of instruction in secular subjects. The term "lecture," as commonly understood in the Middle Ages, implied or included a catechetical system of teaching, in which the master asked and the scholar answered a series of questions. This laborious but effective mode of ascertaining and accelerating progress in knowledge was left irksome by both parties, and "ordinary" lectures—or, as we should term them, lessons—were threatened with supersession by a seductive invention known as "cursory" lectures. These appear to have been neither more nor less than lectures in the modern sense. The master delivered his discourse, and the scholar was left to gather from it what degree of enlightenment he could or would. The statute referring to the subject taxes teachers with favouring scholars in this way, for the "hope of gain," which points to corrupt dealing between them. In both its moral and intellectual aspects the practice met with scant countenance from the authorities, and, save in special cases, any master indulging in it was liable to be punished with deprivation and imprisonment for so long a period as the Chancellor, in his discretion, deemed fit. One learns from an undated statute, which, however, is probably of the thirteenth century, that grammar scholars were expected to construe in both English and French, the object being that the latter language might not be utterly forgotten. When we recall that our ancient pleadings were in Norman-French, and that a sensible proportion of the students embraced that most conservative of professions, the law, the wisdom of this course is at once evident.

The grammar schools may be regarded as the nursery of the University, but not a few of the scholars, educated in monastic and other local schools, arrived with a knowledge of Latin sufficient to dispense them from preliminary instruction in that language, for that is what is meant by "grammar." It is not perhaps quite clear whether a schoolmaster's house ranked as a hall, but, as soon as a scholar was equipped with an adequate stock of Latin to enter upon his Artist's career, he would naturally move to one of the halls tenanted by his equals in learning, thus making room for another and younger person more strictly in statu pupillari. The age at which students began their academic course in earnest averaged from twelve to fifteen—needless to say, much earlier than at present. They were required to devote four years to qualifying for the degree of bachelor; and during the former part of this period they went by the curious name of "general sophist." This, the initial, stage of University existence was terminated by an examination, then and still called Responsions, which might not be taken in less than a year, after which the student became known as a "questionist." The occasion of responding was a high day with scholars, and celebrated with such extravagant feasts that we find the Chancellor intervening to limit the expense attending them to sixteen pence. The meaning of the term "Responsions" is explained by the formula of the testamur: QuÆstionibus magistrorum scholarum in Parviso respondit. The parvise, or porch, may have been symbolical of the initial stage—the early provisions of our universities are full of symbolism. By way of preparation for his examination the sophist was required to be diligent in attending disputations in the parvise, and when he presented himself for his own ordeal he had to make oath that these exercises had been duly performed.

The third stage was reached when the "questionist," as he was now, stood for his bachelor's degree. This was known as Determination, because the candidate had to determine questions in which his recent acquisitions in logic should have enabled him to appear to advantage. According to the rule, this function took place either on Ash Wednesday or on some day between Ash Wednesday and the following Tuesday. However important Responsions may have been in the eyes of the youthful student, they paled before the elaborate ceremonies of Determination. In all the two-and-thirty schools of School-street sat the Masters Regent in full academical attire, their desks before them, it having been enacted that the exercises should be carried out in the schools, not in private dwellings or in churches. The statutes forbade unfairness in proposing questions or in the manner of examining, but the candidate was, to some extent, forearmed in this matter, since he might, apparently, select his own judge. As a good audience was considered a primary necessity by the masters, in order that their talents might obtain the widest possible recognition, well-wishers seem to have gone so far as to drag into the schools reluctant passers-by—a nuisance of such frequent occurrence that it was forbidden by statute. An attempt was made also to prevent fees or robes being given to the masters, but the statute doubtless proved inoperative, and was afterwards repealed. Another custom, which the authorities vainly prohibited, and was plainly incongruous at the season of Lent, was the holding of feasts by bachelors on admission.

Before a scholar was permitted to determine, six masters at least had to testify on oath in congregation regarding his fitness in knowledge, morals, age, stature, and personal appearance. They were bound to secrecy as to the nature of their testimony, the sufficiency of which was decided by four Regent Masters of Arts, two of the North and two of the South, eight days before Ash Wednesday. On the following Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday masters and scholars appeared before the four members of the Committee; and if the testimony had been satisfactory the scholars made oath that they had completed the necessary studies, and were "admitted" to determine. Determination itself was largely a show, and had nothing to do with the attainment of the degree, of which it was rather the outward and visible sign. If the student failed to acquit himself with distinction, the only penalty to which he exposed himself was the censure or ridicule of friends and foes. Discomfiture was extremely probable, as the affair was intellectual game, in which either the master laid himself out to pose the scholar, or a brace of scholars argued (or, as the phrase then ran, "disputed") by turns, under the supervision and correction of the master.

In conformity with modern usage, we have spoken of the status of Bachelor as a degree, but originally it is doubtful if the description would have been deemed accurate. Like the Master, the Bachelor might be a teacher, but his lectures were, for the most part, of an "extraordinary" or "supernumerary" character, and not allowed to compete with the "ordinary" lectures of the Master or Doctor. The number of bachelors so privileged—instances even occur of such half-finished clerks officiating as Principals of Halls—was probably very small, and much would have depended on age. As a rule, bachelors went on with their studies as before, attending the lectures of others, until three more years had elapsed, when they became eligible for Inception. At first it seems as if the terms "Determination" and "Inception" had somehow got transposed. In reality the latter word contemplates a state or condition which was only possible or usual when the scholar, having accomplished the full course of study, finally and definitely assumed the rights and duties of Master.

The fundamental distinction underlying all academic order was that of teacher and pupil. The licentiate, it is true, may be regarded as a hybrid, and the Doctor as an overgrown master—a master and something more; but the existence of these classes only obscures what was, nevertheless, the vital and essential principle on which University discipline was organized.

We have heard of licentiates once before—as excluded from University processions. This clearly implies no small amount of prejudice against them, but ere an attempt can be made to account for it, we must understand what, exactly, a licentiate was. A licentiate, then, was a bachelor who had attended lectures for some time, had given lectures, and had been privately examined by members of his faculty. Having been presented by one of them, he had obtained from the Chancellor licence to perform certain exercises before the conventus, or meeting of the faculty, by which the degree was finally bestowed. The Chancellor's licence authorized the candidate to incept, to read (lecture), to dispute, and to do all that belonged to the rank of master as soon as he had taken the necessary steps for the purpose. The licentiate lectured in the schools, precisely like the master, for whom indeed he acted. The fee for the licence was one commons, which may represent a shilling—in any case, it was trivial. The cost of Inception, on the other hand, was very great on account of the feasts, etc., which accompanied it; and as the licentiate already enjoyed some of the privileges of the master, there was an evident temptation to put off the evil day. Security was therefore demanded from the licentiate that he would incept within a year; and, if he omitted to do so, he was fined. Nevertheless, students often remained in this category—neither fish nor fowl—beyond the allotted term, in fact, for years; and they probably furnished a considerable quota of the vagabond scholars, whose exactions have been recorded, and who certainly did not consist wholly and solely of "poor boys." One of the Cambridge statutes deals expressly with this baneful materia vagandi. These two reasons together fully explain the disfavour with which licentiates were regarded, and which ultimately led to the abolition of the status. At Cambridge it had ceased before Bedel Stokys' time (1574), for, when he wrote, the licence was given by the Proctors at the vespers, or exercises, on the day preceding Inception.

We come now to Inception, or the degree of Master of Arts. The candidate was first presented to the Chancellor and Proctors by his master, who was called upon to make oath that he believed his pupil to be qualified for admission by his morals and learning. This testimony, however, was not enough. No fewer than fourteen masters had to depose, nine that they knew, and five that they believed the candidate to be fit. He was then presented to the Chancellor and Proctors in congregation, and, with hand laid upon the Bible, swore, in a kneeling posture, that he would keep the statutes, would actually incept—we shall see what this means presently—within a year, that he would not spend more at his inception than the sum allowed, that he would neither lecture nor hear lectures at Stamford[6]—nefandum et detestabile nomen—and that he would handle the books of the library with becoming care. Having assented to these and other conditions, he received the Chancellor's licence.

It is to be noted that the Chancellor merely admitted; he did not create. This was, and at Cambridge still is, the work of the faculty—the Proctors, as representative of the Arts, or the several "fathers" in the three superior faculties, for whom the Regius Professors are now substituted, in the junior University. At Oxford, since the promulgation of the Laudian statutes, the duty has been discharged by the Vice-Chancellor. In the faculty of Grammar—the Cinderella of the faculties, which apparently did not of necessity involve any previous academical training—the Master was presented with a palmer and a rod. In Arts a cap was placed on his head, and in the higher faculties the Master or Doctor was installed in a chair and received the hat, together with the book, the ring, and the kiss of peace—the three last, perhaps, in theology alone.

Inception properly signified the commencement of an active career as a teacher; and thus the new master would have taken precautions to secure a school as well as the articles of attire appertaining to his degree, including "pynsons," a kind of boot or shoe. He was also obliged to visit all the schools, invite the masters to be present on the day of inception, and provide them, one and all, with a suit of clothes. This was such a serious incubus that statutes were passed limiting such perquisites to kinsmen or members of the same hall; and it probably explains the custom of incepting for others—the rich acting for the poor. From every inceptor the bedels were entitled to a gratuity of twenty shillings and a pair of buckskin gloves, or an equivalent sum of money; and inceptors whose income amounted to forty pounds a year were compelled to feast all the Regent Masters or forfeit twenty marks to the University. The main distinction between Regent and Non-Regent Masters seems to have been that the former were perforce teachers, in which condition they were obliged to remain during the remainder of the year in which they incepted and for a twelvemonth afterwards. In the case of the Non-Regents, who had exceeded this period of probation, lecturing appears to have been optional. The Regent Master was required to devote forty days of his novitiate to disputation.

Inception feasts were apt to degenerate into occasions of riot, and in 1432 the following statute was passed with a view to regulating them:

"Whereas at the feasts held at graduations there occur such disorderly scenes and violence that more annoyance and disgrace than pleasure is caused to the host himself and all his guests, the University, for the prevention of such disorders for the future, hereby orders that no one shall stop the ingress and egress of any master or his servants to or from the hall or tent or other place where the feast is being held; and that no one, except the servants of the University, or of the host, shall enter the said hall, until after the masters, who have been invited, have entered with their servants; and after they have sat down, no one shall sit down, except by the appointment of the Chancellor and in proper order according to rank; and no one shall beat the doors, tables, or roof, or throw stones or other missiles so as to disturb the guests, on pain of imprisonment, excommunication, and a fine of twelve pence."

As these convivialities were so unpleasant, and even dangerous, it may seem that it would have been the obvious course to prohibit them altogether, as in the case of determining bachelors; but the University clung to its feasts, and in 1478 fresh rules were made, this time with the special aim of bleeding or mulcting the intrusive friars and the wealthy monks:

"Every mendicant friar shall, on the day of his inception, feast the Regent Masters according to ancient custom, or forfeit ten marks to the University; and every such incepting friar must be a regent for twenty-four months from his inception. And every religious possessing private property, and not being an abbot or prior or other governor of a conventual house, the rents of whose society amount to two hundred pounds yearly, must on the day of inception feast the Regents or pay twenty pounds to the University in lieu of a feast. And every secular, who can spend forty pounds a year at the University, must, in default of such feast, forfeit twenty marks; and, if he can afford to spend one hundred pounds, must forfeit twenty pounds."

Brief reference must here be made to the relations between the mendicant orders and the University in general, if only because the memory of the former was so perpetuated, long after the disappearance of the fraternities, in the famous term "Austins." Those relations were, for a considerable time, the reverse of friendly. The friars complained that degrees in theology were refused them; the University accused the friars, among other enormities, of "stealing children." To prevent such abduction, in 1358 the following statute was passed:

"The nobles and people generally are afraid to send their sons to Oxford, lest they should be induced by the mendicant friars to join their order; it is therefore hereby enacted that if any mendicant friar shall induce or cause to be induced any member of the University under eighteen years of age to join the said friars, or shall in any way assist in the abduction, no graduate belonging to the cloister or society of which such friar is a member shall be permitted to give or attend lectures in Oxford or elsewhere for a year ensuing."

This enactment was repealed eight years later; but in 1414, when forty-six articles were drawn up by the University of Oxford, addressed to the Council of Constance, it was urgently represented that the friars should be restrained from granting absolution on easy terms, from stealing children, and from begging for alms in the house of God. Their adversaries also warmly denounced the nefarious conduct of "wax-doctors," or ignorant friars, in seeking to obtain graces for degrees by means of letters from influential persons; and in 1358 their indignation bore fruit in a very stringent statute bearing upon the subject.

It is difficult not to think that a large part of this antagonism was caused by envy of the friars. For one thing, they were excellent grammarians, and eventually almost all elementary instruction passed into their hands with the full approval of the authorities, who ordered that payment should be made to them, as the actual teachers, and no longer to the idle grammar masters. This, however, is only a tithe of the service rendered by the friars to the University, which owed an immense obligation to them. The Dominicans, Franciscans, Carmelites, and Austins, all settled at Oxford, and rendered invaluable service to the cause of learning. The most erudite were perhaps the Franciscans, who arrived in 1224 and established themselves in St. Ebbe's parish in houses and lands assigned to them by Richard le Mercer, Richard le Miller, and others; and their possessions were enlarged and confirmed by Henry III., their chief benefactor.

Such was the fame of the Franciscan friary that in 1353 Bishop Grosseteste, of Lincoln, left all his books to the brotherhood, whilst Bishop Hugo de Balsham, founder of Peterhouse, Cambridge, in his statutes, dating about 1280, directed that some of the scholars should annually repair to Oxford for improvement in the sciences under Franciscan and other readers. It was in this seminary that Roger Bacon, so renowned for his devotion to science and mathematics in the barbarous ages, received his education. The priory, with the fine chapel and large enclosures belonging to it, was granted in the thirty-sixth year of Henry VIII. (1534) to two persons named Richard Andrews and John Howe, who sold it the same year to one Richard Gunter.

We are, however, chiefly concerned with the Austins, whose priory had a similar history. In 1351 Pope Innocent IV. empowered the Friars Eremites of St. Austin to travel into all lands, found houses, and celebrate divine service. Here in England they were first domiciled in London, but certain of the brethren were deputed to journey to Oxford, where they hired a small house near the Public Schools. Their attainments in divinity and philosophy having attracted the attention of a rich Buckinghamshire knight, Sir John Handlove, or Handlow, of Burstall, he bought a piece of ground for them, and this was afterwards enlarged by a gift from Henry III. Upon this they erected a splendid college and chapel, in which, before the Divinity School was built, the University Acts were deposited, and exercises in Arts performed. It was particularly enjoined that every Bachelor of Arts should dispute once a year, and answer once a year, in this house—a rule enforced until the dissolution. The disputations were then removed to St. Mary's, and afterwards to the Schools, but they still retained the name they had so long borne—"disputations in Austins."

Candidates for degrees in the higher faculties—Law, Medicine, and Theology—had to undergo the same experiences as were prescribed for the faculty of Arts; that is to say, they had to respond, to dispute, to determine, and to incept. Regents from other universities were permitted to lecture at Oxford after determining in the schools of their respective faculties, and those "resuming," as the phrase was, in Arts were required to determine at least thrice in the schools of the Masters Regent, once in grammar and twice in logic. This liberal spirit was tempered by common sense, since only those were admitted whose almÆ maters received Oxford graduates on equivalent terms. At Paris and elsewhere the sons of Oxford were, it was complained, maliciously shut out from academic privileges, and accordingly those proceeding from such places had the same measure meted out to them at Oxford.

In a chapter like the present it seems fitting to furnish an account of a typical round in a mediÆval university. Ample material exists for this reconstruction as regards Oxford, but that University—the senior of the two, and the model of the other, as Paris was of it—has already absorbed a large share of our attention[7]. We will therefore turn our eyes to Cambridge, and to a period somewhat later than the times on which we have mainly dwelt—i.e., that which followed the institution of colleges.

At both Universities the colleges were closely associated with the Church, but if any may be pointed out as pre-eminently designed for the study of theology, it was surely St. John's College, Cambridge.

Three of the scholars were appointed by the Deans ministri sacelli (servants of the sanctuary), of whom one had to act as sub-sacrist at morning mass and ring the bell at certain hours, whilst the two others were clock-keepers and bell-ringers.

The first act of the day was the ringing of the great bell at four o'clock in the morning—a duty which devolved on the third of the ministri sacelli. "Let the third ring the great bell of the College every day, except on Good Friday and Easter Eve, as was wont to be done before the College was founded. Let it ring at the fourth hour, that those throughout the whole University, who wish to rise at that hour and apply themselves to their studies, may more easily rouse themselves at the sound of the bell."

The earliest Chapel service—morning mass—was over before six, after which three lecturers were engaged for two hours in teaching and examining the scholars and bachelors and hearing their recitations.

Disputations in philosophy were held on Mondays, and on Wednesdays and Fridays similar exercises took place in theology, each disputation lasting two hours, and two questions from Duns Scotus being discussed.

Each priest was obliged to celebrate mass four times a week, a fine of fourpence being imposed if he failed to celebrate three times; and each fellow and scholar had to say daily the psalm De Profundis, the suffrages, and a prayer for the souls of the foundress and other departed benefactors. These constituted quite a long list, and included Henry VI., Henry VII., Henry VIII., Cardinal Wolsey, and James Stanley, Bishop of Ely, who gave the old hospital to the college. Another benefactor was Bishop Fisher, who established two fellowships and two scholarships; and priests on this foundation were required to say four masses weekly for his soul and the soul of Lady Margaret, his "second mother." Those who were not priests had to say daily the psalm De Profundis, the suffrages, and the prayer Fidelium Deus omnium conditor.

"Also on all Sundays and other festivals the Masters, Fellows, and Scholars shall say Matins, Sprinkling of Holy Water, Procession, Mass, and Vespers and Compline, according to the ancient use of the Church of Sarum, at convenient times, as the Master shall appoint."

A fourth part—that is, seven—of the fellows were told off to preach to the people in English, and at least eight sermons were delivered in the course of the year, one in the college chapel. Should this last be omitted, the defaulter lost his fellowship. On the other hand, preaching was encouraged by the concession of various privileges, such as the salary of a mark, exemption from college office and disputations, a week's commons for every sermon, leave of absence from college, and the right of holding benefices. Each preacher, besides the delivery of sermons, had to expound the Bible lessons read in hall daily, except on particular festivals. By the way, the reading aloud of the Bible in hall during meals was inflicted by the Master on disorderly scholars as a punishment and an alternative to feeding alone in hall on bread and water.

Six monitors were chosen from among the scholars by the Deans, and of these two put bad marks against those who absented themselves from chapel or lecture, whilst four reported misbehaviour in hall or the use of any language other than Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee, or Arabic. Breach of the latter rule subjected the offender to the fine of a halfpenny, if a fellow, and a farthing if a scholar. Every week seven scholars were appointed to wait in hall, and an eighth to read the Bible aloud during dinner—not always as a penal and ignominious task.

The statutes, in a general way, permitted no dallying in hall after meals—a prohibition for which the following reasons are advanced: "Abuse, slander, strife, scandal, wordiness, and other faults of the tongue rarely accompany an empty but often a well-filled stomach." It was therefore ordained that after grace had been said and the loving-cup had gone round, the fellows and scholars should, without long delay, betake themselves to their studies. But the rule was not to be unduly pressed. "If in honour of God or of His glorious Mother, or one of the saints, a fire is lighted in hall, for the comfort of those who dwell in the college ... then we allow them to remain for the sake of moderate recreation and amuse themselves with singing or repeating poetry or tales, or with other literary pastime." Conversely, "excessive noise, laughter, singing, dancing, and the beating of musical instruments in the bedrooms" were sternly denied.

On Parade

We have now embodied in this and the two preceding chapters practically all the information relating to University life that can be conveniently included in a small volume. It is unnecessary to state that, were more space at our disposal, many other features might be incorporated—notably University costume, which was the subject of endless regulations. As the topic is so large and complex, we must reluctantly forgo any proper discussion of it, but it seems needful to subjoin a few remarks designed to throw light on the picture, "New College on Parade," which appears in "ArchÆologia," vol. liii., part i.

In the middle, fronting the spectator, is the Warden—none other than the worshipful Thomas Chandler, whose name has been several times mentioned in these pages. He wears a cassock, and over that what may be a sleeved cope or tabard. Over that again is a tippet, a development of the almuce, or worn over it. No hood is visible. On his head is the pileus with tuft or point. The common meaning of these terms, still less their emblematic significance, will not be universally understood. A sleeved cope, then, was the distinctive garb of a canonist not in holy orders, and as Thomas Chandler became S.T.P. in 1450, the capa manicata would be obviously out of place on his person. The tabard, generally associated with heralds, was a sleeveless garment, worn with and probably over the gown, with which it was afterwards combined, and the sleeves of which, at that period, came through the armholes. This garment, a dress of dignity, might be worn by undergraduates, and was compulsory in the case of bachelors lecturing in the schools. The scholars of Queen's College, Oxford, are still officially styled Tabarders.

The tippet was an academic adaptation of the ecclesiastical almuce, and was not the same as the hood, although the almuce seems to have been in the first place nothing but an ordinary hood with a lining of fur to keep out the cold. The original meaning of "typet" was the poke of the cowl, in which, the reader may happen to remember, Chaucer's Frere was in the habit of carrying his knives and pins. Academically, it was a distinct article of dress, lined with fur, and formed part of the insignia of the doctor or master.

The pileus was the hat of honour, evolved from the ecclesiastical skull-cap, and was distinctive of the higher degrees, particularly of that of doctor. Indeed, it has been thought that this class alone is designated by the term pileati found in our old statutes. From the thirteenth century onwards pilei, and the overtopping tufts, were of various colours according to the faculties which it was intended to distinguish. It may be added that red, and even green, gowns were worn by the higher graduates, as appears from wills proved in the Chancellor's Court at Oxford.

Next to the Warden, on each side, are two figures in sleeveless copes, tippets and pilei, without hoods—doctors in theology or degrees. More in the background are other pileati, wearing both tippet and hood; and through the armholes of their outer garments show the tight sleeves of the cassock. These may be secular doctors, or they may be bachelors of divinity or masters of arts. Five on the extreme right have no pileus. Following them are persons wearing hoods and tippets over what may be a tabard, to which are attached loose sleeves or flats, with the tight sleeves of the cassock appearing underneath. This is the most numerous class represented in the picture, and seems to have comprised masters and bachelors of the faculties, with the exception, probably, of theology.

Facing the Warden are younger persons, attired similarly to the last, who may be bachelors of arts; and to the right and left of these are older individuals, severely tonsured, the majority of whom wear surplices. If Mr. Clark's conjecture be correct, they are the clerical members of the choir. Two of them have a scarf over a surplice or, as is more likely, a loose-sleeved cassock. Lowest in rank are the surpliced choristers wearing hoods, with, in some instances, a liripipe depending from them behind.