OUR LITERARY CORNER.

Press, Volume L, Issue 14975, 23 May 1914, Page 9

OUR LITERARY CORNER.

SOME ASPECTS OF CAMBRIDGE LIFE.

ORIGINAL AND SELECTED MATTER.

fe-S NOTES ON BOOKS AND AUTHORS

:.' (gpjKIAtLY WRITTEN "FOR "THE >RE88.") (Br a Nf.w Zealand Undergraduate.) - Life i D Cambridge is so amazingly Varied and complex that it is exceedingly difficult to give a coherent description of ;t - Ot * he 400 ° i Ullior mem - * bens' of the University there is such a tlirer&'ty of taste that there can hardly - J*. said to be a common life; yet for all - that there is a strange individuality •< Cambridge which defies portrayal, ■ V fcnt which is as aistinct as-it is subtle : mc feels it at King's Cross or Liverpool street when one "goes np," just as one •* feels *te> sun and heslther of Dartmoor ■ - or tbe blue Cornisli sea at . " It is real and, like all real things, a mystery. " ; Cambridge life is divided up into ': ieparate channels by three main divid- - . ing lines: firstly. that of individual character and taste; affinities of charac- : tor and general sympathy of outlook will-sort people out first of all; second- . Jv • what form of sport you indulge in ■ -l!or more sdmply, "are you a sport or • -not?" thirdly, what is your "shop?"— ; ? - : ibis wilt' be a dividing line, ; but uot a very sharp ono; it does, however, make a great deal of difference whether you are reading classics or natural science, history or engineering. There are other divir • fcions, such as the puttie schools; men who come from a particular school will ' often form separate "sets" in this way. '- Tbo colleges, of course, are merely ■■" parts of the whole, and tho same distinctions apply to them on a small scale, as to the whole University on a large ono j it will be more usual for an ses- ~- thete of one college to be friends with an {esthete of another, rather than, with a "blood" of his own. AH these various sections have their interests, and though there is a good -- deal of overlapping in the main, the in- •.".? Xerosis are strictly confined to the "- particular set; there is the sportV ing set, the largest and most : -popular set of all, composed "chiefly of healthy ' public school ■ ' people without an idea of their own; -;.'■■ their whole interest centres round the v great good eport, rowing, football, ; Jicckey, tennis, cricket, and so forth. - r fTbey are tlfe most envied people; there are many men of mediocre "•capacity who would love to be "in $..■' with" the sporting set if they could; 0 it is their ideal, their way of life. i- Then there is tho aesthetic (school; V and this has many ramifications; there f:' are many who are merely anxious to -:,'•:<■' be "modern" and read Bernard Shaw ■i -and Strindberg and rave about Cezan-

no's or Roger Fry f s pictures or Demusic: then there are otheia - who write poetry, paint pictures and / try to be Bohemian; there are others L who believe in a return to Nature, and

IM ao go in for Morris dancing and folk Bongs.i Many go in for fantastic ap* 'T parel, and decorate their rooms in Japanese manner. Hβ latest thing, in | Chelsea is to be mid-Victorian,; and j aot Japanese or Bohemian, but I : have ! 5 \- not yec observed .the midrVictorian rer Z action in Cambridge' yet. Of course tho attitude IB useless if one,has been ' au unconscious Victorian , —it must be a "' studied pose. There is bitter feeling X between, . .tho ■ aesthetes and .the ■ r "Bloods" or"Sports," noither side have '. <■' ar.ything but abuse for the other — , eometimes, however, an amused con- ( - tempt. . ' ■ ' '■'•'■ ■ Between the aesthetes an* the "Bloods" come the intellectuals, who ,"* discuss with unvaried interest the important things of life. Religion, poli- * 5 lice, art and philosophy in cluef; and it is this discussion,of everything under > - khe sun; that ia to my mind the most distmctivQ thing about Cambridge. One argues and discusses abstractions '■-, and generalities with the-energy that is usually, attributed to our age and t. , youthfulnessj but it is from this long 1 apprenticeship in - argument and diss '" cussion that gives, men one of the best t'» things Cambridge has to give, a clear- * ' ness of outlook at things in general, and an ability to detect fallacies: 1 * ' do not say that all,who argue get this estimable possession, but that the quent experience of a couple of hours argument with four or five other men over a pipe does contribute that wayAnocuet , large section (against whom lam prejudiced) is the motor-cycling * section; this has a large number of adherents, whose whole and only interest apparently lies in motor-cycling; but I am frankly prejudiced against them, \. and so had better leave them on. one eido- !■ . , All these sorts and conditions of men flourish; there is room for all. Every typo of man, will find a congenial environment, be ho a Blood or an Intellectual, a motor-cyclist or a dog-fancier. There is always such an immense amount of things to do_ that it would * bo hard to fail to-find something that will attract you. As regards questions of the.day, there are always leading men in every branch of thought—-re-ligion, philosophy, art, politics, or liteiature. For instance, ono evening Mr Rogex Fry will 6peak on Post Impressionism, «■ Mr Lowes Dickinson on Tobgion or political ideals, or Mr G. M. Trevolyan on his travels in the Balkans, .or Mr Granville Barker on tho need for a national theatre. This j term .Mr XJoyd George is coining up ,to speak at the Union; Mr G. K. Chesterton is coming-next week to speak on "tho supernatural and human affairs"; the other day Mr Sidney Webb spoko on Socialism; and Professor Baldwin Spencer gave a lecture on the »ativee of North-West Australia to the .Anthropological Society ; this was illustrated by cinematographic films and oy phonograph records. Last term the famous Danish critic, Dr. Georges Brandes, gave an address on Nietzche. . p In music wo hear the best musicians v' end singers of the day, and we have * opportunities of seeing good pictures from time to time. The difficulty is how to fit ifc alt in; how, in the midst of lectures and classes, to tako aflfcanof all tho other things which Cambridge offers without sacrificing valuable time. In fact, that is the eternal question; for ono knows that in after ' life such opportunities will not present ' themselves again. One of the great triumphs of Cambridge is that while steeped in an atmosphere of medievalism it still remains to a wonderful extent young and vigorous; it docs irot live unduly hampered and depressed fey. the momory oP past ages. ■ One is, of course, constantly brought into touch with the past, as, for instance, on, Founders' Day at King's, which, as typical of what I mean, I think is worth describing. December 6th, tho feast of Saint «- Nicholas, is tho day in question; in the morning a commemoration servjee is t "held in the'chapel, when the quaint J'Sanctus" of Henry VI., the founder, is sung. The lesson is, "Let us now t r praise famous men, and tho fathers * that begat us" • then tho Provost reads *I the list of benefactors, beginning with

•'that illustrious prince, Henry Sixth, King of England and France. Lord ot Ireland, our most pious founder When one realises the background to this ancient ceremony —the ponous chapel, which has inspired both Milton and Wordsworth —it is easy to imagine what an impression all this antique paceantry makes on one born and bred in the Antipodes. For nearly five hundred years, on Saint Nicholas' Day. has this same commemoration service been sung. In the evening the Provost and Fellows give a feast, and afterwards all adjourn to the Junior Combination room, where so.ngs are sung and lovingcups paj=scd round. The famous "Green Grow the Rushes, 0" is the traditional song of Eton and of King's, and it is a fine thing to near it lustily sung by a hundred powerful throats. A I have-sketched, all'too briefly and incompletely some of the aspects of Cambridge life; but, as I said, Cambridge is too huge for its description to be comprehended in one article. I hope, at any rate. I have Riven some idea, if but a faint one. of its singular charm, and perhaps I have kindled in fiome a desiro to go there to see for themselves. I can only say that they will find, as I have done, that Cam-bridge-is worth while; Cambridge gives. am] is still giving, to all who will but come.