The Chapel tower of Merton College rises grandly against the sunset sky. In the foreground a pathway fenced from the Meadows runs farther on, under the old south city wall, passing under the Fellows’ Garden of Merton, shown in another picture. ] out. He was one with the coats of arms emblazoned on the panels or the glass, and the benefactors’ portraits up among the shadows of the roof timber, and with the dial on the grass, which says, “I change and am the same.” He is now seldom outside the old city wall, unless he goes in May to the river through Christ Church or between Merton and Corpus. When he sees Tom tower he makes the melancholy revelation that he once heard Tom boom one time less than the appointed number. As for the flowers in the window-boxes, it is “cook’s work”; he has seen the like ornament “on pastry.” On a bank holiday he is clothed in extraordinary dignity and gloom, and stands with an expression that wields a mace, in the hope of repelling the pleasure-seeker from some holy or learned retreat. If he were not mistaken for an eminent person, it would fare ill with those whose footsteps he dogs, lest they should commit some desecration. He can hardly permit smoking in the quadrangles, and has to turn his back to avoid seeing the accursed thing. At one time, a man dared not run through the purlieus of the Divinity School, for fear of the nod of Acamas. He is a mirror of good manners, which he has learned out of love, and not necessity. He has a great store of antique information--statutes, precedents, fables--which, as in an aumbry, he keeps fragrant by much meditation, and is pleased to display. His elaborate courtesies are interpreted almost as insults by the new generations; men wonder what they have done to deserve his withering respect. It is reported that on one occasion, at twilight, a vigorous gentleman brushed past him, between the Camera and Brasenose. Acamas turned, with a soft and bitter protest against “a gentleman forcing what he could command.” “If,” said he, “the Vice-Chancellor were here, he should know that a gentleman had insulted an old college servant by mistaking him for a townsman.” ... He bowed and almost broke his heart when he recognised the beaming face of the Vice-Chancellor.