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Page 54
LETTER XIX.
_Oxford--Martyrs' Monument--Cost of the Burning of the Martyrs--The
Colleges--Dr. Pusey--Energy, the Secret of Success._
OXFORD, _September 10th, 1851_.
I have just finished a short visit to the far famed city of Oxford,
which has not unaptly been styled the City of Palaces. Aside from this
being one of the principal seats of learning in the world, it is
distinguished alike for its religious and political changes in times
past. At one time it was the seat of Popery; at another, the
uncompromising enemy of Rome. Here the tyrant, Richard the Third, held
his court, and when James the First, and his son Charles the First,
found their capital too hot to hold them, they removed to their loyal
city of Oxford. The writings of the great Republicans were here
committed to the flames. At one time Popery sent Protestants to the
stake and faggot; at another, a Papist King found no favour with the
people. A noble monument now stands where Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer,
proclaimed their sentiments and faith, and sealed them with their blood.
And now we read upon the Town Treasurer's book--for three loads of wood,
one load of faggots, one post, two chains and staples, to burn Ridley
and Latimer, �1 5s. 1d. Such is the information one gets by looking over
the records of books written three centuries ago.
It was a beautiful day on which I arrived at Oxford, and instead of
remaining in my hotel, I sallied forth to take a survey of the beauties
of the city. I strolled into Christ Church Meadows, and there spent the
evening in viewing the numerous halls of learning which surround that
splendid promenade. And fine old buildings they are: centuries have
rolled over many of them, hallowing the old walls, and making them grey
with age. They have been for ages the chosen homes of piety and
philosophy. Heroes and scholars have gone forth from their studies here,
into the great field of the world, to seek their fortunes, and to
conquer and be conquered. As I surveyed the exterior of the different
Colleges, I could here and there see the reflection of the light from
the window of some student, who was busy at his studies, or throwing
away his time over some trashy novel, too many of which find their way
into the trunks or carpet bags of the young men on setting out for
College. As I looked upon the walls of these buildings, I thought as the
rough stone is taken from the quarry to the finisher, there to be made
into an ornament, so was the young mind brought here to be cultivated
and developed. Many a poor unobtrusive young man, with the appearance of
little or no ability, is here moulded into a hero, a scholar, a tyrant,
or a friend of humanity. I never look upon these monuments of education,
without a feeling of regret, that so few of our own race can find a
place within their walls. And this being the fact, I see more and more
the need of our people being encouraged to turn their attention more
seriously to self-education, and thus to take a respectable position
before the world, by virtue of their own cultivated minds and moral
standing.
Education, though obtained by a little at a time, and that, too, over
the midnight lamp, will place its owner in a position to be respected
by all, even though he be black. I know that the obstacles which the
laws of the land, and of society, place between the coloured man and
education in the United States, are very great, yet if _one_ can break
through these barriers, more can; and if our people would only place the
right appreciation upon education, they would find these obstacles are
easier to be overcome than at first sight appears. A young man once
asked Carlyle, what was the secret of success. His reply was, "Energy;
whatever you undertake, do it with all your might." Had it not been for
the possession of energy, I might now have been working as a servant for
some brainless fellow who might be able to command my labour with his
money, or I might have been yet toiling in chains and slavery. But
thanks to energy, not only for my being to-day in a land of freedom, but
also for my dear girls being in one of the best seminaries in France,
instead of being in an American school, where the finger of scorn would
be pointed at them by those whose superiority rests entirely upon their
having a whiter skin. But I am straying too far from the purpose of
this letter.
Oxford is indeed one of the finest located places in the kingdom, and
every inch of ground about it seems hallowed by interesting
associations. The University, founded by the good King Alfred, still
throws its shadow upon the side-walk; and the lapse of ten centuries
seems to have made but little impression upon it. Other seats of
learning may be entitled to our admiration, but Oxford claims our
veneration. Although the lateness of the night compelled me, yet I felt
an unwillingness to tear myself from the scene of such surpassing
interest. Few places in any country as noted as Oxford is, but what has
some distinguished person residing within its precincts. And knowing
that the City of Palaces was not an exception to this rule, I resolved
to see some of its lions. Here, of course, is the head quarters of the
Bishop of Oxford, a son of the late William Wilberforce, Africa's noble
champion. I should have been glad to have seen this distinguished pillar
of the Church, but I soon learned that the Bishop's residence was out of
town, and that he seldom visited the city except on business. I then
determined to see one who, although a lesser dignitary in the church, is
nevertheless, scarcely less known than the Bishop of Oxford. This was
the Rev. Dr. Pusey, a divine, whose name is known wherever the religion
of Jesus is known and taught, and the acknowledged head of the
Puseyites. On the second morning of my visit, I proceeded to Christ
Church Chapel, where the rev. gentleman officiates. Fortunately I had an
opportunity of seeing the Dr., and following close in his footsteps to
the church. His personal appearance is anything but that of one who is
the leader of a growing and powerful party in the church. He is rather
under the middle size, and is round shouldered, or rather stoops. His
profile is more striking than his front face, the nose being very large
and prominent. As a matter of course, I expected to see a large nose,
for all great men have them. He has a thoughtful, and somewhat sullen
brow, a firm and somewhat pensive mouth, a cheek pale, thin, and deeply
furrowed. A monk fresh from the cloisters of Tintern Abbey, in its
proudest days, could scarcely have made a more ascetic and solemn
appearance than did Dr. Pusey on this occasion. He is not apparently
above forty-five, or at most fifty years of age, and his whole aspect
renders him an admirable study for an artist. Dr. Pusey's style of
preaching is cold and tame, and one looking at him would scarcely
believe that such an apparently uninteresting man could cause such an
eruption in the Church as he has. I was glad to find that a coloured
young man was among the students at Oxford.
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