Southey had either or both of these eminent persons been there to witness-better still had they been there to partake in, the genial phrenzy. It was now that "The Science," (to use the language of Thalaba,) "made itself to be felt." It was now that, (in the words of Wordsworth,) "the power of cudgels was a visible thing." It was now that many a gown covered, as erst that of the Lady Christabelle,

It was now that there was no need for that pathetic apostrophe of another living Sonneteer

"Away all specious pliancy of mind

In men of low degree !"

For it was now that the strong Bargeman of Isis, and the strong Batchelor of Brazen-nose, rushed together "like two clouds with thunder laden," and that the old reproach of " Baculo potius," &c., was for ever done away with. It was now that the Proctor, even the portly Proctor, shewed

that he had sat at the feet of other Jacksons be

sides Cyril ;

"For he that came to preach, remained to play."

In a word, there was an elegant tussle which lasted for five minutes, opposite to the side-porch of All-Souls. There the townsmen gave way; but being pursued with horrible oaths and blows as far as Carfax, they rallied again under the shadow of that sacred edifice, and received there a welcome reinforcement from the purlieus of the Staffordshire Canal, and the ingenuous youth of Penny-farthing Street. Once more the tide of war was turned; the gowned phalanx gave back-surly and slow, indeed, but still they did give back. On rolled the adverse and swelling tide with their "few plain instincts and their few plain rules." At every College gate sounded, as the retreating band passed its venerable precincts, the loud, the shrilly summons of " Gown! Gown!"—while down each murky plebeian alley, the snoring mechanic doffed his night-cap to the alarum of— "Town! Town!" Long and loud the tumult con

tinued in its fearful rage, and much excellent work was accomplished. Long and lasting shall be the tokens of its wrath-long shall be the faces of Pegge, Wall, Kidd, (and light shall be their hearts,) as they walk their rounds to-morrow morning-long shall be the stately stride of Ireland, and long the clysterpipe of West—long and deep shall be the probing of thy skilful lancet, O Tuckwell; and long shall all your bills be, and long, very long, shall it be ere some of them are paid. Yet, such the gracious accident, homicide

was not.

A third furious battle took place on that fair and spacious area which intervenes between Magdalene's reverend front and the Botanic Garden. But the constables of the city, and the bull-dogs of the University, here at last uniting their forces, plunged their sturdy wedge into the thickest mass of the confusion. Many, on both sides, were right glad of a decent excuse, and dispersion followed. But up towards Holywell, and down towards Love Lane, and away over the waters of Charwell toward St Clement's parish, the war still

lingered in fragments, and was renewed at intervals.

Reginald, although a nimble and active young fellow, broad in the chest, narrow in the pelvis, thick in the neck, and lightsome in the region of the bread-basket, a good leaper, and a runner among ten thousand, was not, as has been formerly mentioned, a fencer; neither was he a wrestler, nor a boxer, nor an expert hand at the baton. These were accomplishments, of which, his education having, according to Mr Macdonald's taunt, been "negleckit," he had yet received scarcely the slightest tincture. The consequence was, that upon the whole, though his exertions were neither few nor far between, he was, if mauling were sin, fully more sinned against than sinning. The last thing he could charge his memory withal, when he afterwards endeavoured to arrange its "disjecta fragmenta," was the vision of a brawny arm uplifted over against him, and the moon shedding her light very distinctly upon the red spoke of a coach-wheel, with which that arm appeared to be intimately connected.

CHAPTER V.

REGINALD had been awake, in a certain sense of the word, for some minutes, ere he could command anything like a recollection of what had passed. His head was hot, and there was a feeling both of numbness and of pain about his limbs, insomuch, that he could scarcely at first turn from one side to the other. A confused remembrance of noise, shouting, clamour, blows, flight, pursuit, rose within him. He made an effort, pulled aside his bed-curtains, and immediately perceived that he had not been taking his ease in his inn.

In fact, it was broad daylight, and when the curtain was withdrawn, he could see the open fields almost without lifting himself above the pillow on which his head had rested; the features of the landscape were quite new to his eye, and he remembered, after a moment's consideration, that