beginning of every hunting term, for the glory of the chief tuft and the
benefit of hard-reading men, who cannot waste their time in trotting from
cover to cover dependent on the vagaries of such an uncertain animal as a
fox, and are therefore content to hunt a "cad" armed with a red herring over
the stiffest country he can pick.

After the Hall, the Kitchen should be visited. It is the most ancient part
of the building, for Wolsey, with a truly ecclesiastical appreciation of the
foundation of all sound learning, began with the kitchen, and it survived
him. Agriculture, gardening, cooking, and confectionery, were among the
civilizing arts brought to great perfection by religious houses and lost for
a long period after the Reformation, which, like other strong medicines,
cleared our heads at the expense of our stomachs.

In Wolsey's kitchen may be seen the huge gridiron on which our ancestors
roasted sheep whole and prepared other barbarous disgusting dishes.

In the Peckwater Quadrangle are to be found the Library and the Guise
collection of pictures, which contains curious specimens of that early school
which the mad mediaevalists are now fond of imitating, and a few examples of
the famous Italian masters who rose on the force of genius, which did not
disdain study but did disdain imitation.

Wickliff was a warden, and Sir Thomas More a student, in Canterbury Hall,
which was amalgamated in Wolsey's College.

The Chapel of Christchurch is the Cathedral of Oxford. The oldest parts
belonged to the church of St. Frideswide's Priory, consecrated A.D. 1180.
Wolsey pulled down fifty feet of the nave and adapted it to the use of his
college. The stained glass windows, without which every Gothic cathedral has