With cares that move, not agitate the heart. In other cities the past is a tradition, and is at most regretted. In Oxford it is an entailed inheritance. Nevertheless, by way of a gaudy foil to this hale immortality, fashions flourish there more luridly, and fade more suddenly, than elsewhere. Afraid, therefore, that I might stumble upon anachronisms unaided, I addressed myself as a seeker after truth to several freshmen who might have been expected to know practically everything. One wished to be excused because he was standing for the secretaryship of the Union, and was “somewhat out of touch with ordinary life.” He had been busily opening debates in half the colleges of Oxford, in order to prove his sound principles and high capabilities, and enclosed this table of labours:-- 11th inst., at ----: “That in the opinion of this house His Majesty’s government has done its best.” 12th, at ----: “That the struggles of the poor towards a larger and freer life are not to be discouraged.” 13th, at ----: “That vegetarianism is opposed alike to our traditions and our present needs.” Also later (to oppose): “That a wave of imperialism causes a reformation in the standards of literature.” (14th, twenty-first birthday.) 18th, at ----: “That poets are the interpreters of their age.” 19th, at ----: “That in encouraging sports this University approaches more nearly to the Greek ideal than at any other period of its existence has been the case.” 20th, at----: “A paper on ‘Mentality in Life and Art.’” 21st, at ----: “That Oxford has not sufficiently realised and reformed its national position since imperialism became an acknowledged fact.” Another gentleman of more tender years and less exuberance forwarded the _menu_ of his college junior gaudy, in itself a pleasant reminder of the more solid occupations of undergraduates. He had made a table of a day’s life, alongside the dishes, like this:-- _Soup_ Macedoine. _The Senior Proctor._ _Fish_ Turbot and Lobster Sauce. _My tailor: and to buy a meerschaum._ _Entrées_ Tomates Farcées. _My Coach._ _Joint_ Saddle of Mutton. _If possible, my philosophy tutor._ _Game_ Pheasants. _Aristotle._ _Sweets_ Pudding à la Belleline. _Eights._ _Glace_ Neapolitain. _The Master._ _Savoury_ Oysters à la Bonne Bouche. _Jones’s hair._ He had “no time for more.”