On Tuesday Afternoon Mr. Maud Took Me To The
Different Walks About Oxford, And Often Remarked, That They Were Not
Only The Finest In England, But He Believed In Europe.
I own I do
not think he over-rated their merit.
There is one in particular
near the river, and close to some charming meadows, behind Corpus
Christi College, which may fairly challenge the world.
We here seated ourselves on a bench, and Mr. Maud drew a review from
his pocket, where, among other things, a German book of Professor
Beckman's was reviewed and applauded. Mr. Maud seemed, on this
occasion, to show some respect for German literature. At length we
parted. He went to fill up the vacancy of the clerk's place at
Dorchester, and I to the Mitre, to prepare for my departure from
Oxford, which took place on Wednesday morning at three o'clock, in
the post-coach. Considering the pleasing, if not kind attention
shown me here, I own I thought my bill not unreasonable; though to
be sure, it made a great hole in my little purse.
Within this coach there was another young man, who, though dressed
in black, yet to judge from the cockade in his hat might be an
officer. The outside was quite full with soldiers and their wives.
The women of the lower class here wear a kind of short cloak made of
red cloth: but women in general, from the highest to the lowest,
wear hats, which differ from each other less in fashion than they do
in fineness.
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