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ers should appear in St. Mary's at mass, and offer at the great altar one penny each. To the performance of this penance they were bound under a bond to the university. After the Reformation this penance was changed into an annual attendance at Divine service at St. Mary's, where, on the 10th of February, even up to the year 1825, on which the citizens of V Oxford were released by convocation, they used to make an offering just after the Litany, which for that purpose was read from the altar.

The

"For a really stirring account of town and gown rows in later days, I must refer my readers to some Cambridge men in preference to Oxonians. following, which I lately heard from a party present and nearly concerned, may, I trust, be relied upon:—

"Just before one fifth of November, at which season only a few years since, and it may be at the present time, a town and gown row was annually expected, certain improperly conducted young men of Trinity College consulted how they might find a fit antagonist for a noted champion of the town. At length it was agreed to send for one Peter Crawley, than whom there have been few more scientific and accomplished boxers from the days of Castor and Pollux down to the era of young Dutch Sam. Peter Crawley was entertained in Trinity; and on the fifth of November evening, after time enough had been allowed to make the snobs (so mortals call them) flatter themselves that the gownsmen were afraid to come forth, out sallied Peter Crawley in cap and gown at the head of the Trinity men.

“First of all, the one party stood on one side of

the arena, and the other party on the other side; and which proves undeniably how true all Homer's battles are to real life, speeches were made on both sides; ay, not only speeches, but Homeric speeches too; for our poet's εа птеρóеνтα, winged words, have never been half as well illustrated by any commentator as they were on the occasion I am to describe. For there were no long prosy speeches, with a beginning, middle, and end to them, all about the examples of our grandfathers, the interests of ourselves, and the good opinion of posterity; but by winged words I understand short, pithy, pointed sentences like the following, which we can almost fancy we see as they fly like winged arrows shot and returned from opposing ranks :

66 6 You- are a-feard' (afraid), cried one party.

"When full time had been allowed for this missile to fall harmless from their callous breasts, it was hurled back with

"You are another.' (Retort courteous.)

“Then again the assailants tried a second shot, aimed directly and personally to Peter Crawley himself- but all in vain it did not stagger him in the

least.

"I'll obfuscate your luminaries, Master Trinity.' "Who cares for a sanguineous plebeian,' replied the counterfeit collegian.

"So far it was mere skirmishing at a distance; but presently the champion of the town, finding himself in Mr. Peter Crawley's hands, very quickly cried, 'Enough,' or implied as much by retreating among his own party. Then the fight became general for a

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• To

few minutes, when suddenly a cry was raised, the rescue!' and behold, at a little distance, the proctor, Mr. M—, present Bishop of

was

seen with his gown torn, and so buffeted and rushed against as to be in considerable personal danger. This was quickly seen by my friend Currant, who, being himself none of the weakest, and being closely followed by his man-of-arms, brought up timely succour. Quickly they were by the embryo prelate's side; and as Crawley was now upon his mettle, and found his prowess could be exerted with some advantage, he put it forth to some purpose; and as the rescued dignitary saw his assailants fall right and left before Peter Crawley's potent arm, doubtless he felt like the Duke of Wellington when joined by Blucher at Waterloo; and as soon as his muchpoked ribs, recovering from their forcible compression, gave him breath to speak, turning anxiously to Currant he said, A wonderfully fine young man with his fists that- who is he, pray? I wish particularly to know.'

"Whether Peter Crawley has since applied to his Lordship for church patronage in return for the good and useful service that day done, I have not yet heard; but if he has not, either from diffidence and true magnanimity, or from a belief that the qualifications he then displayed were of one kind and his Lordship's preferment of another, all bishops, I am sure, will allow that the said Peter Crawley has evinced a degree of consideration and modesty rarely found among gentlemen of another class."

CHAP. IX.

A TALE OF RUSTICATION,

I HAVE already introduced Mr. Jenkinson, and shown how all his cunning evasions of the minor evils of college discipline ended in his being suddenly overtaken by the greater, rustication. We will now go with him, and indeed first go before him, home; and see all the train of consequences to himself, and friends which this rustication involved.

Henry Jenkinson was the eldest son of the Rev. H. Jenkinson, rector of Elton, who had also another son named Charles, nearly old enough for collegeand two daughters. Harry was a fine, highspirited young man, the very model of the goodhearted fellow whom every body laughs with and some laugh at, and a general favourite both at college and in his father's parish. Whatever was going on in Elton, or the adjoining village of Woolley, for one parish was too confined a sphere for our hero's fame, whether it was a wasp's nest to be blown up, a rabbit-warren to be netted, rats to be caught, or a pig to be killed, some one was sure to notify the same to Master Harry, if in vacation, or to regret his absence if in term-time. The rector used to laugh and chuckle at the attention his son received, while, in common with his wife and

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daughters, he used to enjoy his boy's animated description when the fun was over.

But "envy follows merit like its shade." Mr. Staveley, the neighbouring squire, had a son, too, whom Harry used to call a regular slow coach, while the only other youth in the parish, Mr. Wilton, junior, who was brought up in the office of his father, the rich attorney and Clerk of the Peace, tried in vain to cut the dash, and affect the style of Harry Jenkinson. True, he rode a fine thorough-bred chestnut horse, and that his own; while Harry had only an occasional ride on a neighbour's; for grey Bess, which the rector vowed was as good a horse as ever was crossed, he had latterly appeared ashamed of, and used to say that it had certain antibilious paces which did not agree with his constitution. Still, whatever opinion either young Tom Staveley or Mr. Wilton, junior, might have had of themselves, and whatever opinion their fathers (who were like other fathers) might entertain of them, it was quite clear that Harry Jenkinson, especially since his first term at Oxford, was a cut above both of them; as, indeed, their respective selves and families were not a little annoyed to find to be the prevailing opinion.

"Have you seen the rector to-day, Mr. Wilton?" the squire would sometimes say to the man of business.

"If I have not seen him I have seen Master Harry about, as usual. What a pity it is, isn't it, Mr. Staveley, that a fine young man like that should