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103 the undergraduates; and undergraduates, it was gravely added, are "h'always h'unusual thirsty," on such occasions.

Professor Max Miiller, in his " Literary Recollections," spoke of Froude, while a Fellow of Exeter, as busy writing novels in his rooms in the High Street, opposite St. Mary's Church. There he finished the "Nemesis of Faith," which cost him his Fellowship, which led to his banishment to Tasmania, and which was publicly burned, not in the Quadrangle of Exeter, as tradition hath it, but in one of the class-rooms, by an irate professor who found a copy of it in the hands of an unfortunate student.

There is something absolutely pathetic in Oxford's long time complacent satisfaction in the thoroughfare familiarly known as "The High."

Its admirers have told the world for years that in size and beauty it has, and can have, no equal. Robert Montgomery apostrophized it as "The Town's Majestic Pride"; and even Sir Walter Scott, who was not an Oxford man, and who was above all things an Edinburgh man, declared that the High Street of his native city was "the most magnificent in Great Britain—except High Street in Oxford"! The High Street in Oxford, the guide-books state, is two thousand and thirty-eight feet in length, and eighty-five feet in width.