Having fought the almighty proctors thus far Meadowcourt was not, however, the man to give in to such an absurdly overwhelming piece of indignity as that proposed. He refused to read the paper, resolving rather to go without his degree. He was advised, however, to plead the Act of Grace, which he did after many further checks and delays. He emerged finally from the unequal conflict with victory and a degree. This case I think amply justifies Amhurst’s assertion that the Black Book was used as a weapon with which the proctors paid off personal insults and old scores, and the injustice and abuse of the great power which they knew so cunningly how to wield is only too apparent. The proctors, naturally enough, were vastly unpopular men and, supposedly, realising this, did not go one iota out of their way to decrease the general dislike attaching to them, but rather consoled themselves by piling on the pains and penalties at every opportunity. The gownsmen were not the only people who had a rooted objection to them on principle. Even the townees and tradesmen regarded them with an unfriendly eye, and gave them no assistance in the detection of Undergraduate delinquents. In illustration of the light in which they were held by the townspeople Amhurst related an amusing story. “A man who liv’d just by a pound in Oxford and kept an ale house put upon his sign these words ‘_Ale sold here by the Pound_,’ which seduced a great many young students to go thither out of curiosity to buy liquor, as they thought, by weight; hearing of which, the vice-chancellor sent for the landlord to punish him according to statute, which prohibits all ale house keepers to receive scholars into their houses; but the fellow, being apprehensive what he was sent for, as soon as he came into the vice-chancellor’s lodgings, fell a spitting and a spawling about the room; upon which the vice-chancellor ask’d him in an angry tone, what he meant by that? “‘Sir,’ says the fellow, ‘I am come to clear myself.’ “‘Clear yourself, sirrah!’ says the vice-chancellor; ‘but I expect that you should clear yourself in another manner; they say you sell ale by the pound.’ “‘No, indeed, Mr Vice-chancellor,’ replies the fellow, ‘I don’t.’ “‘Don’t you,’ says the Vice-chancellor again, ‘how do you then?’ “‘Very well,’ replies he, ‘I humbly thank you, Mr Vice-chancellor; pray how do you, sir?’ “‘Get you gone,’ says the vice-chancellor, ‘for a rascal’; and turned him downstairs. “Away went the fellow and meeting with one of the proctors, told him that the vice-chancellor desired to speak with him immediately; the proctor in great haste went to know the vice-chancellor’s commands, and the fellow with him, who told the vice-chancellor, when they came before him, that here he was. “‘Here he is!’ says the vice-chancellor, ‘who is here?’ “‘Sir,’ says the impudent alehouse-keeper, ‘you bad me go for a Rascal; and lo! here I have brought you one.’”