And now we arrive at the famous College, and, as in duty bound, pay a passing tribute to its founder. Wykeham was of yeoman birth, of comely person, and had a strain of noble blood in him, from his mother’s family. He was educated at a little old school on St. Giles’ slope, which boasted that it had numbered among its pupils Athelwolf and Alfred the Great. No doubt, he attended to his lessons, for we find him while still a youth, appointed to be secretary to the Governor of the Castle. This was the happy accident in Wykeham’s life; without it, though he had a genius for architecture and geometry, and was a rare draughtsman, he might have remained in obscurity. The governor, De Scures, knew Bishop Edington--himself a builder--and both knew the King. They introduced Wykeham to him, and from that moment, at twenty-three years of age, his career was assured. “He was one of those men,” observed Mr. Hertford, “whom fortune carries to the top of the ladder without asking them to walk up the rounds.” “So it appears,” I continued. “He took, as many of his day, the priest’s office that he might eat a piece of bread, and soon had it richly buttered. Not only did he become ‘a pretty considerable pluralist’ and a bishop, he was also made Surveyor of the King’s castles and palaces, Keeper of the Privy Seal, Secretary to the King, and Chancellor. In short, he was the leading spirit in the country, and ‘everything was done by him, and without him nothing.’” “But I have read somewhere that he had a fall,” said Mr. Hertford, “and was obliged to appeal to Alice Perrers. Imagine the grave bishop in his long robes, bowing down to Edward’s impudent little favourite! Perhaps his words were golden on this occasion, for she said she would go and see whether a spark of love for her remained in the old king. And the spark did remain, and its light was sufficient to guide Wykeham back to his temporalities.” “Well,” I replied, “that story has been questioned, but, at any rate, he only wanted his own, and that for a good purpose. His pet college was in danger of suffering, and though the building was not commenced he had appointed a warden and scholars. When the college was finished, he began the transformation of the Cathedral and had done good work upon it before he closed his eyes. He left 2,500 marks to carry it on. Until the last few years of his life he planned everything himself, and employed no architect. He is considered to be the father of the Perpendicular style, and was national as opposed to Papal in his architecture and his politics. Altogether he laid out upon building what would now be equal to half a million. For such brilliant success, learning and integrity were indispensably requisite, and he summed up his estimate of them in his famous motto ‘Manners makyth man.’”