XIII. SOUTH-WEST PIER OF TOWER 74 XIV. IN THE FENS 83 XV. ENTRANCE TO CHAPTER HOUSE 87 XVI. THE CHANCEL SQUINT 90 To Two Cambridge Magicians In London lanes, uncanonized, untold By letter’d brass or stone, apart they lie, Dead and unreck’d of by the passer-by. Here still they seem together, as of old, To breathe our air, to walk our Cambridge ground, Here still to after learners to impart Hints of the magic that gave Faustus art To make blind Homer sing “with ravishing sound To his melodious harp” of Oenon, dead For Alexander’s love; that framed the spell Of him who, in the Friar’s “secret cell,” Made the great marvel of the Brazen Head. Marlowe and Greene, on you a Cambridge hand Sprinkles these pious particles of sand. The Everlasting Club There is a chamber in Jesus College the existence of which is probably known to few who are now resident, and fewer still have penetrated into it or even seen its interior. It is on the right hand of the landing on the top floor of the precipitous staircase in the angle of the cloister next the Hall--a staircase which for some forgotten story connected with it is traditionally called “Cow Lane.” The padlock which secures its massive oaken door is very rarely unfastened, for the room is bare and unfurnished. Once it served as a place of deposit for superfluous kitchen ware, but even that ignominious use has passed from it, and it is now left to undisturbed solitude and darkness. For I should say that it is entirely cut off from the light of the outer day by the walling up, some time in the eighteenth century, of its single window, and such light as ever reaches it comes from the door, when rare occasion causes it to be opened. Yet at no extraordinarily remote day this chamber has evidently been tenanted, and, before it was given up to darkness, was comfortably fitted, according to the standard of comfort which was known in college in the days of George II. There is still a roomy fireplace before which legs have been stretched and wine and gossip have circulated in the days of wigs and brocade. For the room is spacious and, when it was lighted by the window looking eastward over the fields and common, it must have been a cheerful place for a sociable don. Let me state in brief, prosaic outline the circumstances which account for the gloom and solitude in which this room has remained now for nearly a century and a half.