tantism of the Vice-Chancellor and the Six Doctors was, of course,
extolled by partisans in the press with reckless ignorance and reckless
contempt at once for common justice and their own consistency. One
person of some distinction at Oxford ventured to make himself the
mouthpiece of those who were bold enough to defend the proceeding--the
recently-elected Professor of Poetry, Mr. Garbett. But deep offence was
given among the wiser and more reasonable men who had a regard for the
character of the University. A request to know the grounds of the
sentence from men who were certainly of no party was curtly refused by
the Vice-Chancellor, with a suggestion that it did not concern them. A
more important memorial was sent from London, showing how persons at a
distance were shocked by the unaccountable indifference to the
appearance of justice in the proceeding. It was signed among others by
Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Justice Coleridge. The Vice-Chancellor lost his
temper. He sent back the memorial to London "by the hands of his bedel,"
as if that in some way stamped his official disapprobation more than if
it had been returned through the post. And he proceeded, in language
wonderful even for that moment, as "Resident Governor" of the
University, to reprimand statesmen and lawyers of eminence and high
character, not merely for presuming to interfere with his own duties,
but for forgetting the oaths on the strength of which they had received
their degrees, and for coming very near to that high, almost highest,
academical crime, the crime of being _perturbatores pacis_--breaking the
peace of the University.
Such foolishness, affecting dignity, only made more to talk of. If the
men who ruled the University had wished to disgust and alienate the
Masters of Arts, and especially the younger ones who were coming forward
into power and influence, they could not have done better. The chronic
jealousy and distrust of the time were deepened. And all this was
aggravated by what went on in private. A system of espionage,
whisperings, backbitings, and miserable tittle-tattle, sometimes of the
most slanderous or the most ridiculous kind, was set going all over
Oxford. Never in Oxford, before or since, were busybodies more truculent
or more unscrupulous. Difficulties arose between Heads of Colleges and
their tutors. Candidates for fellowships were closely examined as to
their opinions and their associates. Men applying for testimonials were
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