Hearne’s common-place books are an amusing source of information about Oxford society in the years of Queen Anne, and of the Hanoverian usurper. Tom Hearne was a Master of Arts of St. Edmund’s Hall, and at one time Deputy-Librarian of the Bodleian. He lost this post because he would not take ‘the wicked oaths’ required of him, but he did not therefore leave Oxford. His working hours were passed in preparing editions of antiquarian books, to be printed in very limited number, on ordinary and LARGE PAPER. It was the joy of Tom’s existence to see his editions become first scarce, then VERY SCARCE, while the price augmented in proportion to the rarity. When he was not reading in his rooms he was taking long walks in the country, tracing Roman walls and roads, and exploring Woodstock Park for the remains of ‘the labyrinth,’ as he calls the Maze of Fair Rosamund. In these strolls he was sometimes accompanied by undergraduates, even gentlemen of noble family, ‘which gave cause to some to envy our happiness.’ Hearne was a social creature, and had a heart, as he shows by the entry about the death of his ‘very dear friend, Mr. Thomas Cherry, A.M., to the great grief of all that knew him, being a gentleman of great beauty, singular modesty, of wonderful good nature, and most excellent principles.’ The friends of Hearne were chiefly, perhaps solely, what he calls ‘honest men,’ supporters of the Stuart family, and always ready to drink his Majesty’s (King James’) health. They would meet in ‘Antiquity Hall,’ an old house near Wadham, and smoke their honest pipes. They held certain of the opinions of ‘the Hebdomadal Meeting,’ satirised by Steele in the _Spectator_ (No. 43). ‘We are much offended at the Act for importing _French_ wines. A bottle or two of good solid Edifying Port, at honest _George’s_, made a Night cheerful, and threw off Reserve. But this plaguy _French_ Claret will not only cost us more Money but do us less good.’ Hearne had a poor opinion of ‘Captain Steele,’ and of ‘one Tickle: this Tickle is a pretender to poetry.’ He admits that, though ‘Queen’s people are angry at the _Spectator_, and the common-room say ’tis silly dull stuff, men that are indifferent commend it highly, as it deserves.’ Some other satirist had a plate etched, representing Antiquity Hall—a caricature of Tom’s antiquarian engravings. It may be seen in Skelton’s book.