d it, for their schools attained a
reputation throughout Christendom, so nobly was the work, which
Grosseteste began, carried on by his scholar and successor, Adam de
Maresco.

And they had helped to make Oxford, as it was then, the second city
of importance in England, and only second to Paris amongst the
learned cities of the world.

Martin was shown along a cloister looking through the most sombre
of Norman arches, upon a greensward. The doors of many cells opened
upon it. He was told to knock at one of them, and a deep voice
replied, "Enter in the name of the Lord."

It was a large, plain room, with a vaulted ceiling lighted by
lancet windows and scantily furnished; rough oaken benches, a plain
heavy table, covered with parchments and manuscripts: in one recess
a Prie-Dieu beneath a crucifix, and under the fald stool a skull,
with the words "memento mori," three or four chairs with painfully
straight backs, a cupboard for books (manuscripts) and parchments,
another for vestments ecclesiastical or collegiate. This was all
which cumbered the bare floor. At the corner of the room a spiral
stone staircase led to the bed chamber.

Before the table stood an aged and venerable man, in the gray
clothing of the Franciscans, sweet in face, pleasant in manner,
dignified in hearing, in reputation without a stain, in learning
unsurpassed.

Martin bowed reverently before him, and gave him the chaplain's
letter.

"I had heard of thy arrival, my son. I trust thou hast found
comfortable lodgings at the hostel I recommended?"

"I have slept well, my father."

"And hast not forgotten thy duty to God?"

"I should do discredit to my teacher at Kenilworth if I did. I have
been to the abbey church."

"He is a man of God, and I doubt not thou art worthy of his love,
for he writes of thee as a father might of a much-loved son. But
now, my son, we must break our fast. Come to the refectorium with
me."

Passing into the cloister they came to the dining hall or
"refectorium." Three long tables, a fourth where the elders and
professors sat, on a raised platform at right angles to the others.
A hundred men and boys had already assembled, and after a Latin
grace, breakfast began. It was not a fast day, so the fare was
substantial, although quite plain--porridge, pease soup, bread,
meat, cheese, and ale. The most sober youth of the university were
there, men who meant eventually to assume the gray habit, and carry
the Gospel over