[Original]
Unless, indeed, it be the Cherwell. This little stream, which flows into the Isis near the last of the Barges, while it winds about Christ Church Meadow, Magdalen, and Mesopotamia, is edged about, with shadowy walks; but once clear of the Parks, it is embedded in grassy and flower-laden banks, through which your boat passes with a lively sense of exploration. Presently, at a break in all this greenery, you come abreast of a grey stone building, with ancient gables and air of reposeful dignity. Instinctively your oar-blades rest upon the water, for so much beauty demands more than a moment's admiration. It is Water Eaton Hall, one of those smaller Elizabethan manor-houses which have survived the violence of the Rebellion and the neglect of impoverished owners. All about its aged masonry is the growth and freshness of the spring. Oxford is several miles away, but even so you are reminded of her special charm—the association of reverend age with youth's perennial renewal.
MERTON COLLEGE
