I found that study was not the fashion at
college, and that a lad of spirit only ate his terms; and grew wise by
dint of knife and fork. I was always prone to follow the fashions of
the company into which I fell; so I threw by my books, and became a man
of spirit. As my father made me a tolerable allowance, notwithstanding
the narrowness of his income, having an eye always to my great
expectations, I was enabled to appear to advantage among my
fellow-students. I cultivated all kinds of sports and exercises. I was
one of the most expert oarsmen that rowed on the Isis. I boxed and
fenced. I was a keen huntsman, and my chambers in college were always
decorated with whips of all kinds, spurs, foils, and boxing gloves. A
pair of leather breeches would seem to be throwing one leg out of the
half-open drawers, and empty bottles lumbered the bottom of every
closet.
I soon grew tired of this, and relapsed into my vein of mere poetical
indulgence. I was charmed with Oxford, for it was full of poetry to me.
I thought I should never grow tired of wandering about its courts and
cloisters; and visiting the different college halls. I used to love to
get in places surrounded by the colleges, where all modern buildings
were screened from the sight; and to walk about them in twilight, and
see the professors and students sweeping along in the dusk in their
caps and gowns. There was complete delusion in the scene. It seemed to
transport me among the edifices and the people of old times.
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