nified gown of
the scholar, all wearing the dark coats and white ties usually
associated with the 'Schools' and examinations, but with their faces
free from the look of anxiety incident to those occasions. Here and
there are knots of Bachelors of Arts, in their ampler gowns with
fur-lined hoods, some only removed by a brief three years from their
undergraduate days, others who have evidently allowed a much longer
period to pass before returning to bring their academic career to its
full and complete end. From every college comes the Dean in his Master's
gown and hood, or if he be a Doctor, in the scarlet and grey of one of
the new Doctorates, in the dignified scarlet and black of Divinity, or
in the bold blending of scarlet and crimson which marks Medicine and
Law. College servants, with their arms full of gowns and hoods, will be
seen in the background, waiting to assist in the academic robing of
their former masters, and to pocket the 'tips' which time-honoured
custom prescribes.

Presently, when the hour of ten has struck, the procession of academic
dignity may be seen approaching across the Quad, the Vice-Chancellor
preceded by his staves as the symbol of authority, the Proctors in their
velvet sleeves and miniver hoods, and the Registrar (or Secretary) of
the University.

Already most of those concerned are waiting in the room where degrees
are to be given: others still lingering outside follow the
Vice-Chancellor and the Proctors, and the ceremony of conferring degrees
begins.

Should our imaginary spectator wish to see the ceremony, he will have no
difficulty in gaining admittance to the Sheldonian, even if he have
delayed outside till the proceedings have commenced; but if the degrees
are conferred in one of the smaller buildings, it is well to secure a
seat beforehand, which can be done through any Master of Arts. The
ceremony will well repay a visit, for it is picturesque, it should be
dignified, it is sometimes amusing. But it is more than this; in the
conferment of University Degrees are preserved formulae as old as the
University itself, and a ritual which, if understood, is full of meaning
as to the oldest University history. The formulae, it is true, are
veiled in the obscurity of a learned language, and the ritual is often a
mere survival, which at first sight may seem trivial and useless; but
those who care for Oxford will wish that every syllable and every form
that has come down to us from our anc