Chapter 3

"But with all these qualities," I said, "will your ecclesiasts always know what you wish when something unexpected happens about which it is necessary to decide? For instance, if one of the chief speakers proposes a law that all burglars should be honoured by dinners in the Prytaneum, will not your ecclesiasts come to us and say, 'O Socrates and Phileleutheros, we possess all the qualities proper to democratic men: we are conscious of our own virtues, and we should like to diminish the number of your triremes: and for these qualities we have been elected; but as to this matter of giving burglars a dinner in the Prytaneum, about this we do not yet know your wishes: and we would gladly be informed by you?'"

"If they do not know our wishes of themselves," said Phileleutheros, "they will suffer for it at the next election."

"That is very unpleasant for them," I replied. "Suppose now that you hired an architect to build you a house, and that while he was building it he needed your advice, and came and said to you, 'O Phileleutheros, I have given your house four walls and a roof according to your wishes; but you have not yet told me whether your banqueting-hall ought to have three windows or six. About this I do not yet know your wishes, and I would gladly be informed by you.' Will you then say to him that you have no authority to tell him your wishes any more, but that if he happens to decide contrary to your will you will not employ him again? Similarly, it seems to me, you are in danger of making the Ecclesia no longer the agent of your wishes, but it and those who lead it will be now and then tyrants and not your servants--if to make laws not according to the will of the people is tyranny. And you can punish the ecclesiasts by dismissing them after a time, of course; but you will only elect others who will be tyrants again in the same way as their predecessors."

"But the Nomothetae, Socrates, will prevent them."

"Hardly," I replied. "For your leaders of the Ecclesia, who are democrats and will not consult the people, and whom you praise, will ask the Nomothetae for their opinion three times; and when thereby they are quite satisfied that their proposal is displeasing to the Nomothetae it will forthwith become law. So that the conclusion is this: that the leaders of the Ecclesia will in most cases have authority to do what they like without consulting anybody. And these leaders, Askoithios and his friends, are few in relation to the mass of the citizens, are they not?"

"They are not many, certainly."

"That is something to be thankful for," I said. "They then, being few, will rule for the time; and when the few rule, that is oligarchy. Is it not? Unless perhaps you will say that when your enemies are in power in the Ecclesia, it is oligarchy; but when your friends are in power, then it is democracy?"

"Socrates, you are right, for once. That is precisely what I do say."

THE TUTOR'S EXPEDIENT

"Come in" said the Senior Tutor of St. Boniface: and two scholars came in. (He knew they were scholars, because this was his hour for seeing scholars.) One was a heavy-looking young man in a frock coat and tall hat. The other was a spruce youth, who looked as if nature had intended him for an attorney's clerk; as, indeed, nature had.

"Scholars, I presume, gentlemen?" inquired the Tutor. The young men bowed. "In what subjects, may I ask? You, sir" (turning to the spruce youth) "Mr.--I forget your name--eh? Oh, thanks--is it Classics? History? Natural Science, perhaps?"

"Oh no, sir; I hold a 'Daily Thunderer' Scholarship."

"Exactly: I remember now. You read all through _Tit-Bits_ for a whole year, and the 'D. T.' pays you--l,200 pounds, isn't it? The task is a little dear at the price, it always seemed to me: but still, _Tit-Bits_--"

"It isn't quite that, sir," put in the youth; "it was for the 'Encyclop--'"

("I _knew_ it was dear at the price," the Tutor murmured.)

'"--aedia Pananglica,'" continued the scholar. "My Scholarship is for reading that. I have it outside, in three packing-cases."

"The Scholarship?" asked the Tutor, weakly.

"No," said the scholar; "the 'Encyclopaedia Pananglica.'"

"Well," the academic dignitary resumed, "and what have you read? To prepare yourself for a university career, I mean."

"The 'Encyc--'"

"Of course, of course; but anything else? I wish to know so as to advise you with respect to the direction of your studies. Have you, for instance, read any Homer?"

"Homer!" the youth replied--"Oh, yes, I know about Homer. There is a picture of Homer, drawn from life, and very well reproduced, among the illustrations of the article 'Education.' There is one there of Comenius, too. Homer and Comenius--"

"Were both educationists, I know," said the Tutor: "but not, properly speaking, in the same way. However--you have not studied the father of poetry in the original, it would appear. Any Xenophon, perhaps? or Caesar?"

"I don't think I know much about Xenophon," replied the young man, "but I have a friend who failed in Caesar for the Cambridge Locals, and he said it was pretty easy."

"Do you know _any_ Greek or Latin at all?"

"Well, as I came along I bought a Delectus: I was told it might be helpful for attaining the highest honours."

"Exactly. You thought it might be helpful--of course, of course. You were quite right--perfectly, perfectly correct," the Tutor murmured, with a faraway look in his eyes. Then he collected himself, and turned to the other aspirant. "And you, sir--pardon me, I didn't quite catch--eh? Oh, thanks!--what, may I ask, are the conditions on which you hold _your_ Scholarship?"

"My education," replied the heavy young man, "was completed at the Jabez H. Brown University of Thessalonica, Maine, U.S.A. I am a recipient of a Scholarship under the provisions of the will of the Right Honourable Cecil J. Rhodes, the eminent philanthropist. No doubt, Professor, you will have heard of him."

"Ah! a Rhodes Scholar," said the Tutor. "That is better--much better. You will, no doubt, study the Classics. There are those (I am well aware) who are disposed to object to modern American Scholarship as an excessive attention to minutiae: but personally, I confess, I am no enemy even to a meticulous exactness, which alone can save us from an incurious and slipshod rhetoric! . . . And what, then, are the points of scholarship which it has been your endeavour to elucidate? Have you followed in the steps of the lamented Professor Drybones of Chicago, who died before he could prove, by a complete enumeration of all the instances in Greek literature, that [Greek text] is never the first word of a sentence? Have you--"

"Pardon me, Professor," put in the Rhodes Scholar. "That ain't my platform at all. I may say, I don't take any stock in literatoor."

"Am I then to understand," the Tutor asked, "that you are _not_ acquainted with the Greek and Latin Classics?"

"Not considerable," replied the American. "In fact, not any."

"And to what, then, have your studies been directed?"

"Not to books, Professor. No, nor yet laboratories and such. I was elected Scholar by the unanimous suffrage of my class in Thessalonica, Maine, for Moral Character. When it comes to Moral Character, you look at me. That is just where I am on top every time."

"Moral Character!" exclaimed the Tutor, aghast. "Oh, dear me! I am afraid that won't do at all--here. Moral Character--well, I hardly know how to put it--but the fact is that if _that_ is all that you have to rely upon, you would be sent down within a year infallibly--Oh, infallibly, I assure you! . . . But," he continued, "we must try to think of something for both of you gentlemen. Could I not give you both a letter of recommendation to my friend the Master of St. Cuthbert's? _There_, I know, they value very highly both morality and the 'Encyclopaedia Pananglica.' I am sure it would be just the place for you both. Do let me write!"

"As the Master of Alfred's sent Cecil Rhodes on to Auriol?" suggested the spruce young man, innocently.

"As the Master of--why, no," said the Tutor, "I think that won't do, after all. Really, I believe, we must try to keep you at Boniface." Boniface had suffered severely from agricultural depression. "Well, gentlemen--come to me again two hours hence, and we will try to think of something for you. Good morning!"

* * * * *

The Tutor was in a sad quandary. Paid as he was by results fees, he could not afford to receive pupils who would disgrace him in the Schools. Yet it had always been his creed that a College must adapt itself to existing circumstances, and be instinct with the Zeit Geist.

For a long time he remained wrapt in meditation.

* * * * *

Two hours elapsed, and the Tutor was again confronted with the twin aspirants to academic honours. He regarded them with the mien of one visibly relieved from a load of care. "These papers, gentlemen," he said, pointing to certain documents which lay upon the tutorial table, "relate to a project of which you have doubtless heard--I refer to the extension of our Public Schools into the remoter regions of the British Empire. They are reprinted from Mr. Sargant's admirable letter to the _Times_, and the leading article on the subject. You are acquainted with them--No? Then pray take the papers: you will find them most instructive and agreeable reading during the voyage."

"The--the voyage?" exclaimed the Rhodes Scholar.

"Certainly," said the Tutor, "during the voyage. During the long afternoons when you are steaming over the oily calm of the Bay of Biscay, or being propelled (by friendly natives) down the rushing waters of the--ah--Congo. What I am proposing is that you two gentlemen should become members of our Branch Establishment in Timbuctoo. You _must_ have heard of it! When schemes so beneficial to the Empire are mooted, was it likely that the Colleges of our great Imperial Universities would not take the lead in the van of progress? And when Eton, Harrow, and Giggleswick have founded institutions, similar to themselves in every respect except that of mere locality, in Asia, Africa, and Australasia, was the College of St. Boniface to be a laggard? Assuredly not. Gentlemen, I commend you to our Alma Mater beyond the seas."

"But, Professor," the Rhodes Scholar objected, "I was sent here across the salt water dish to join the College of St. Boniface. They were kind of sot upon that in Thessalonica. I guess they will be disappointed, some, if I ain't made a professing member of St. Boniface."

"But you will be, my dear sir--you will be!" cried the Tutor, with vehemence, "a member of St. Boniface-in-Timbuctoo: Sancti Bonifacii Collegii apud Timbuctooenses alumnus: it is precisely the same thing. You have doubtless read, in the course of your historical investigations, how Eton is really an offshoot of Winchester: is Eton not a public school? Of course it is. Similarly, in the Middle Ages a portion of the University broke off and migrated to Stamford. Was it Oxford any the less because it happened to be at Stamford? Not the least. The two institutions--St. Boniface in Oxford and St. Boniface in Timbuctoo--are precisely identical. When you gentlemen in future years are competing for--and I trust, I am sure, obtaining--positions of distinction and emolument in the great world, you will be entitled to describe yourselves as Boniface Men. You can drop the 'Apud Timbuctooenses' if you like: the omission will not be considered fraudulent. But I see no reason why you _should_ drop it. Personally, I should glory in it. Had I won a scholarship for Moral Character, I would go to Timbuctoo to-morrow! There, it seems to me, is your special sphere. In Oxford, Moral Character is so frequent as to be a drug, a positive drug: but in Timbuctoo the possession is precious in proportion to its rarity."

"But have they got the Tone and the Tradition there, sir?" asked the holder of a 'Daily Thunderer' Scholarship. "That would be, for me, very important. My family were especially anxious--"

"Assuredly they have got the Tone and the Tradition. _Coelum non animum mutant_--you have met with that, probably, in the 'Encyclopaedia Pananglica.' Absolutely unimpaired, I assure you. We take great pains about that. Just an instance--the Visitor is the Bishop of Barchester, just as here with us: the local King wanted to be Visitor, but of course we couldn't allow that. Imagine--a Visitor with fifty-three wives, not to mention! It wouldn't have done at all: the Tone _must_ have suffered. We are in constant communication (wireless, of course) with the Timbuctoo Branch: we are always being consulted. Only this morning we had to deal rather severely with an undergraduate member of the College--aboriginal, as many of them are--who insisted on playing the tom-tom in prohibited hours. Of course, we must back up the Dean, and in case of--emergency, we replace him and compensate his relations."

"You speak, sir," said the student of the Encyclopaedia, "of a local King. I understood that the College was on British territory."

"The British Empire," replied the Tutor, "includes Hinterlands. This is a Hinterland. It is consequently from time to time the duty of the local college authorities to assist the British Resident at the Court of Timbuctoo in pulling down the French, German, Italian, Russian, and Portuguese flags, all of which have been occasionally erected. But the country is practically annexed. We are--ah--suzerains."

"I understand, Professor, from your observation relative to the tom-tom," put the American scholar, "that the students of your College are subjected to the regular British discipline? That would be kind of essential for me. Cecil J. Rhodes, the eminent philanthropist, was particularly anxious that I should have the full advantages of your fine old high-toned mediaeval College rules. You have regulations, I presume?"

"The regulations," replied the Don, "are framed (as exactly as possible in the circumstances) on the lines with which we are familiar in Oxford. It has not been advisable, so far, to establish the Proctorial system in its entirety throughout the capital of Timbuctoo; but within the walls of St. Boniface (or perhaps in strict truth I should say within the Zariba) the strictest discipline prevails. Clothing is essential--if not worn, at least carried in the hand--for attendance in Hall and at lectures. Morning chapel is obligatory: conscientious objectors, if aborigines, may keep a private fetish in their rooms. Cannibalism is only permitted if directly authorized by the Dean, after a personal interview."

This appeared to satisfy the Rhodes Scholar; his companion wished further to know whether residence in a Colonial College could be regarded as a step on the Educational Ladder. His friends, he said, had impressed upon him that his function in life was to climb the Educational Ladder.

"The ladder to which you refer," explained the Tutor, "can be scaled as well in Africa as in England. In fact, better; there are distinctly greater facilities. In view of the regrettable inadequacy (at present) of any organized system of primary education in Timbuctoo, secondary education has been obliged to modify some of its standards. The University of Oxford, never backward in the march of progress, is prepared to make the requisite concessions; and, as a result, you will find that the highest honours are attainable without any acquaintance with the ordinary subjects of our curriculum. It is, I should say, the very place for you. Remember, too, that the very largest latitude is allowed--nay, encouraged--in the choice of special subjects qualifying for the M.A. degree; and what a field you will find! The habits of residents--indeed, of some among your own fellow students--are most interesting to the student of Anthropology! while investigations among the flora and fauna of this country must be fraught with the most delightful potentialities. I confess, I envy you. I do not think I am saying too much if I assure you that this University will be ready and willing to confer upon you, not only the ordinary M.A. degree, but a Doctorate of Science or Letters!

"Then," continued the Tutor, "as to recreations; _neque semper arcum tendit Apollo_--I beg your pardon, I mean to say that you cannot always be studying the domestic habits of the hippopotamus under a microscope. Sports and games you will find plentiful and interesting. There is head-hunting, for instance--"

"Hunting the head of the college, do you mean, Professor?" asked the American.

"Certainly not," replied the Don, with dignity. "That would not, under any circumstances, be permitted. If it were the Dean, now--but, oh no, certainly not the Head. What I refer to is the pursuit and collection of decapitated human heads, belonging generally to personal enemies of the collector; it is a sport common in Borneo, and among other interesting, if primitive, nationalities. This pastime is, I understand, a favourite one with some students of the college. It is practised, I need hardly say, under the very strictest supervision; there must be a certificate signed by the British Resident, and a special written recommendation from the Director of the Craniological Department of the Museum. Under such restriction abuse is, of course, impossible. Then, again, there is golf; and it is hardly necessary to remind you that the Sahara provides perhaps the finest natural golf links in the world."

"Well, Professor," said the American, "I guess I will start. But how are we going to get right there, now? On the cars?"

"By the Cape to Cairo railway, when it is open," the Tutor answered. "There will be a branch line. At present, the main line is, as you are aware, incomplete, and the branch is--well, in course of construction. Passengers are conveyed by motor. Or, if not by motor, by ox-waggon; trekking by the latter method is, I believe, the safer way; both, however, are, I understand, most commodious. I may explain to you that the present is a particularly auspicious occasion for your journey; you will travel in the company of the new Junior Dean, whose society, I am sure, you will find delightful. His predecessor, a personal friend of my own, succumbed, I grieve to say, a few months ago--owing to the alleged inadequate supply of beef-steaks at a 'Torpid' breakfast. . . . Painful, but apparently inevitable. I need hardly say, the perpetrators of this insult have been rusticated for a whole term."

"Is the Junior Dean a coloured person--a nigger?" asked the Rhodes Scholar.

"_All_ the College officials," explained the Don, "are, in the highest and best sense of the word, white men. Some of the Ordinary Fellows, it is true--Mr. Sargant's scheme contemplated, you see, the election to fellowships of persons of local distinction. But our officials are, without exception, Oxford men. It would be impossible, otherwise, to preserve the Tone and the Tradition."

"And now, gentlemen," he continued, "I must not keep you too long. Procrastination is the thief of time, eh? and besides, your boat leaves Southampton to-morrow. All expenses on the journey refunded by the Timbuctoo Bursar, on application. Are your boxes unpacked? No? Then all you have to do is to alter the labels."

"About the 'Encyclopaedia,'" said the spruce youth. "It is in three packing cases--a bit 'eavy. Will carriage be paid?"

"Oh certainly, certainly," replied the Tutor. "Of course, I _might_ relax our regulation about bonfires in the quadrangle--but no, no, I am sure you will find it most useful, even up-to-date--in Timbuctoo. _Good_ morning!"

* * * * *

The Tutor, with a sigh of relief, renewed his perusal of the "Itinerarium" of Nemesianus. Nemesianus, honest man! did not know where Timbuctoo was. Nor, for the matter of that, did the Tutor.

THE END AND OBJECT--

"It is always interesting," said my friend, Feedingspoon, "to consider the various stages of the process by which knowledge is disseminated. An inscription (we will say) or an important textual variation is discovered: it is then misinterpreted to fit a preconceived theory; then it is introduced into a cheap German edition, for the School-Use explained. Subsequently, an English school-book is copied from the German: the English commentary is imparted (by me) to undergraduates, in the form of lectures; and the undergraduates' notes are presently submitted to an examiner in the Schools, who marks them _a_--?, and says they show evidence of some original research. By how many degrees, do you suppose, is the examiner removed from the truth?"

"It depends," I said, "whether he be a D.D., an M.A., or a D.Litt. But I do not understand the necessity of the lecturer. Cannot your undergraduate read the English book for himself?"

"No," he replied, "he cannot. There are, of course, exceptional persons. But the ordinary man's mind is so constructed that he is incapable of comprehending that which is seen by the eyes unless it be also heard by the ears. Moreover, when he is not safely shut up in a lecture-room, he is almost always compelled to be either eating, or playing football, or meeting his maternal uncle at the station. Lastly, if the student could read for himself, there would be no need of a lecturer: which is absurd.

"Such being the admitted theory of education," continued Feedingspoon, "I feel that I am necessary to the machinery of the Universe. The position which I occupy is at the same time one of some labour. This morning, for instance, I rose late (having been occupied till past midnight in reading to my pupils selections from the _Poetics_ of Aristotle, in order that they might sleep soundly and wake refreshed): hence, I was unable to follow my usual practice, which is, to call my alumni at 6.30, to accompany them in a walk before breakfast, and map out the scheme of reading which they are to follow until luncheon. I only trust that this isolated omission of a plain duty may not wreck their futures! As a result of my somnolence, I had but ten minutes in which to prepare two lectures on subjects of which I had previously been ignorant; but, thanks to Mr. Gow's _Handbook to School Classics_--a work with which my pupils are unfamiliar because I have not yet told them to read it--I succeeded in displaying an erudition which, in the circumstances, was creditable. Since the conclusion of my lectures, I have been employed in visiting the candidates whom I am preparing for examination, and encouraging them to continue their studies. Personal attention is indispensable to the true educator. But I must confess that I am somewhat dashed and embarrassed by the receipt of a request from Tomkins, a scholar of this College, that I should discontinue my daily inspection of his reading, as he wishes to have time to do some work: coupled with a letter from the Senior Tutor, who wishes to know if I do not think that a little more individual attention is advisable in the case of Tomkins. . . .

"I must now," he said, "ask you to excuse me. The representatives of my College are about to play a football match in the Parks: and although the game is one with the rules of which I have never been able to familiarize myself, and in which, between ourselves, I take no interest whatever, I conceive that my absence from the crowd of spectators might well loosen that sympathy between myself and the junior members of the College, without which they must infallibly meet the fate of the man who reads his books for himself and neglects the dictation of his Tutor. Moreover, I have to spend the later part of the afternoon in reading the Cr--, I should say, the admirable and scholarly version of Professor Jebb--to three Commoners who are taking up Sophocles for Honour Moderations."