a Victorian financial magnate. Sir Thomas Baring; All Souls', standing a little beyond, of which the part here shown is the corner of the great Law Library, founded by Sir William Codrington in the days of good Queen Anne; while on the other side of the Radcliffe is Brasenose College (for pictures of which see Plates II and XV). No non-academic building fronts on the Square; the one or two houses facing on the south-west corner are occupied by college tutors. The academic influence has spread even under the earth, for between the Bodleian and the Radcliffe there is a great subterranean chamber of two stories, excavated 1909-1910, which, when full, will contain 1,000,000 books.

It is refreshing to turn from the thought of so much dead industry, as these multitudes of unread books will represent, to the inspiration of the buildings. They are the very epitome of Oxford. The classic symmetry of Gibbs' dome looks across at the soaring spire of the mediaeval University Church, while the Bodleian is one of the best examples of the Jacobean Gothic, which still held its own in Oxford when the classical style was triumphing elsewhere. Such contrasts are typical of Oxford. The University had a European reputation in the days when it was one of the two great centres of mediaeval scholasticism. Roger Bacon, the most famous name in mediaeval science, no doubt saw the tower of St. Mary's beginning to rise. The University welcomed the Classical Revival, it survived the storms of the Reformation, it was the great centre of the building up of Anglican theology under the Laudian rule, it was one of the inspirations of English science in the seventeenth century, though Dr. Radcliffe's generous benefactions are a little later, and have hardly begun to yield their full fruit till our own day. Such are the learned traditions of the Radcliffe Square, while it has also been the centre of the young lives which, for seven centuries at least, have enjoyed their happiest years in Oxford.

The view from the Radcliffe roof is undoubtedly the best in Oxford. It has been thus described by the worst of the many poets who have celebrated the University:

But Robert Montgomery is more likely to be remembered for Macaulay's merciless but well-deserved chastisement than for his praises of Oxford. Even their utter bathos cannot degrade a group of buildings so wonderful.

THE BROAD STREET

The east side of the University buildings proper was shown in the last picture (Plate III); in the following (Plate IV), the north side of the same block is seen. The old University "schools" lay just inside the city wall, and Broad Street, which is there represented, occupies the site of the ditch, which ran on the north of the wall. This picture is a fitting supplement to the last, for the Sheldonian Theatre on the right of it and the Clarendon Building in the background may claim rank even with the Bodleian and the Radcliffe as the University's special buildings.

The Sheldonian celebrated its two hundred and fiftieth anniversary only last year (1919), when the music which had been performed at its opening was performed once more. It is a building interesting from many points of view. Architecturally it marks the first complete flowering of the genius of Sir Christopher Wren. He was only thirty-seven when it was completed, and had been previously known rather as a man of science than as an architect; he was Oxford's Professor of Astronomy; but Archbishop Sheldon chose him to build a worthy meeting place for his University, even as at the same time he was being called by the king to prepare plans for rebuilding London after the Great Fire.

The very existence of the Sheldonian marks the development of University ideas. The simple piety—or was it the worldliness?—of Pre-Reformation Oxford had seen nothing unsuitable in the ceremonies of graduate Oxford and the ribaldries of undergraduate Oxford taking place in the consecrated building of St. Mary's; but the more sober genius of Anglicanism was shocked at these secular intrusions, and Sheldon provided his University with a worthy home, where its great functions have been performed ever since.

The building is a triumph of construction; it is doubtful if so large an unsupported roof can be found elsewhere; but Wren is not to be held responsible for the outside ugly flat roof, which was put on 100 years ago, because it was said, quite falsely, that Wren's roof was unsafe. That architect had set himself the problem of getting the greatest number of people into the space at his disposal, and he managed to fit in a building that will hold 1,500. It was also intended for the Printing Press of the University, but was only used in that way for a short time, as in 1713 Sir John Vanbrugh put up the Clarendon Building, to house this department of University activity. The "heaviness" of Vanbrugh's buildings was a jest even in his own time; someone wrote as an epitaph for him

Blenheim Palace, his greatest work, is indeed a "heavy load." But the same criticism can hardly be brought against the columned portico, which forms a fine ending for the Broad Street. Vanbrugh's building was superseded in its turn, when the increasing business of the Oxford Printing Press was moved to the present building in 1830.

Plate IV. Sheldonian Theatre, etc., Broad Street

Since then, all kinds of University business have been carried on in the old Printing Press. The University Registrar and the University Treasurer (his style is "Secretary of the University Chest") have their offices there; the Proctors exercise discipline from there; the various University delegacies and committees meet there. And another side of Oxford life, not yet (in January 1920) fully recognized as belonging to the University, has found a home there; the top floor has been for twenty years past the centre of women's education in Oxford, a position elevated indeed, for it is up more than fifty stairs, but commodious and dignified when reached at last.

Perhaps the Clarendon Building has gained in lightness of effect by being contrasted with the clumsy mass of the Indian Institute, which forms the background of our picture. The nineteenth century proudly criticized the taste of the eighteenth; but it may well be doubted if any building in Oxford of the earlier and much-abused century is more inartistic and inappropriate than "Jumbo's Joss House," which used to rouse the scorn and anger of the late Professor of History, Edward A. Freeman.

No Oxford colleges are in this picture, though a small part of Exeter, one of Sir Gilbert Scott's least happy erections in Oxford, appears on the right, and a little piece of Trinity on the left; the last-named is the college of Professor Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, better known