Most pontifical of all college servants was old Acamas, who was not long ago to be seen, in his retirement, apparently beating the city bounds, and now and then standing sentry and defender of some old gate or archway. I first noticed him in the chapel quadrangle of——, and could almost have mistaken him for a fellow of the old school, such was his aspect, and the reverent, half-wondering air with which he surveyed the buildings. But he took off his hat to the junior fellow, and I was undeceived. There was something pathetic in that salute. He was himself apparently far worthier than the young man in flannels of the chapel and the ancient arms; and he seemed to know it, as he bent and trembled over his stick to declaim:—
“He may be a very clever young gentleman, but,[Pg 328] bless me, it is not the Greek that makes the scholar. There was the old President, who never looked at his book, and was all for horses;—but he had a way with him; he would swear just so, so; he was a scholar, if ever a man was. But the new ones are just all book or all play. They came in about the same time as bicycles and steam ploughs and such nonsense. And there’s too much lady about the college now; and such ladies! they are so dressed that it is hard to tell which of them is quite respectable....”
And so he went on, a little less reverent than he looked. But it was only a crimson heat of old age, and soon passed.
What a fine, decent figure he was. He was clothed in a dull black suit, with black tie, and an old-shaped hat, and wore his gloves. He had unquestionably a professional mien, and could not have been a gardener or groom. He was something old, settled in the land and known to the stars, traditional. His sorrow was nothing less dignified than disestablishment. It was time to be going. The enemy was in possession and insulting. He had been in the Balliol fellows’ garden ages ago, and knew what a line the old buildings made against the sky, and what the scene is now. He would walk about, hoping to express a volley of scorn by his silence to persons with no ear for silence. He never went into Tom quad at Christ Church without missing the figure of Mercury—perhaps a copy from John of Bologna, and taken down early last century—which used to preside over the fountain, still known as[Pg 330][Pg 329]
THE TOM QUADRANGLE, CHRIST CHURCH, FROM THE SOUTH ENTRANCE
This Quadrangle was formerly cloistered. The springers, the wall ribs of the vaulting, and the bases of the buttresses may be seen on the two sides of the Quadrangle shown in the picture.
The Great Hall and tower founded by Cardinal Wolsey are on the right or southern side, whilst opposite, over the eastern buildings, rise the tower and spire of “The Cathedral Church of Christ in Oxford.”
Part of the basin of the fountain is seen on the left.