protection. It is established that playing a composition is not such publication as to make it public property and that another than the owner may not avail himself of the merits and popularity of the play. So the name "Erminie" was protected for a comic opera, and it was held that the publication of the songs without orchestration gave no right to have the name applied to any other libretto, dialogue, or orchestral parts. The name and dramatic composition were so blended that the former identified the latter to the public1. On like ground of deception of the public, the producer of "Sherlock 1Aronson v. Fleckenstein, 28 Fed. 75.

Holmes" had an injunction against the production of "Sherlock Holmes, Detective", and the producer of "L'Aiglon" against the use of the same name for a play with different text3. On the other hand, descriptive names, where there is no bad faith, may not be protected, and the producer of one composition called "Charity" had no redress against another who produced a different play with the same name.

Hopkins v. Frohman, 57 Cent. L. J. 109. Frohman v. Peyton, 68 N. Y. Supp. 849. 'Isaacs v. Daly, 39 N. Y. Super. Ct. 511. "Charley's Uncle" does not infringe "Charley's Aunt" as the name of a play, Frohman v. Miller, 29 N. Y. Supp. 1109.

B

USINESS was dull at the little court on

the avenue, and Judge Houlihan was about to adjourn the court for the day, when Lawyer Tim O'Rouke interrupted him, saying: "Yir honor, I have a separate support case which I wish you to hear."

"Are both parties represinted by counsel," inquired his honor.

"Yir honor, I appear for the petitioner, Honora Callaghan, and I am advised that the respondent is unrepresented by counsel," replied Lawyer Tim.

"Mr. Clerk, call the respondent," sternly ordered his honor.

"Timothy Callaghan, Timothy Callaghan, come into coort, and answer unto a petition iv Honora Callaghan filed agin you, or your default shall be recoorded."

"Yir honor," interrupted Lawyer Tim, “I am informed that the defindant is confined in the county workhouse under sintence."

"Why didn't you tell me that fact at first," angrily replied his honor, "don't you know

we can't default a man who is confined in jail?"

"I beg pardon, yir honor, it wuz an oversight on my part," was the humble apology of Lawyer Tim.

"Your ignorance is excoosable this toime," began his honor, "I really thought that you were playing thruant from the lunatic asylum. It's shockin' intirely the ignorance iv litigants; an overwurrked jidge like meself has to do all the thinkin' for litigants, thry all their cases for them, an' taich law to counsel whom an axaming boord turns loose upon the public. If I could only sell my brains to the public, on account iv the numerous bad heads, I couldn't satisfy the demand for thim, an' alongside iv my revenue Carnegie and Rockefeller would be mindicants. I don't think any attorney practisin' in my coort will ever be killed by a train iv thought. Most iv the bar practisin' before me are on a mental track thirteen an' a washout. Go on wid the case, Mr. O'Rouke."

Honora Callaghan was called, and proved a case of non-support satisfactory to his honor.

"Whin did your husband work last, and what

pay did he receive?" inquired his honor, preparatory to making his decree.

"Yir honor, he has not worked for the past two years, and I have not received a penny for my support. Most of the time he has been in jail," meekly answered Honora.

"Honora Callaghan," began his honor, in summing up, "I'm sorry I can't issue a decree compellin' your blackguard husband to support you, an' pay you so many dollars per week, because I'm no partner iv Uncle Sam an' have no conniction wid the United States mint, because no judge can manufacture assets, an' love an' affiction can't be bought in the open market 'cept by boys in love who buy their affiction at candy counthers, icecream stands, and sody-wather fountains.

"Marriage is a pecooliar institootion; whin a man marries he ties himself up to a wharf, an' his wife is an anchor which holds him

fore and aft. If he gits a good wife she will sarve him as a paddle wheel down the throublesome strame iv life, but if he gits a poor one, instid iv a warm corner he simply buys himself a refrigerator; that is, she simply hands her husband a snowball instid iv the Gulf strame iv affiction. The decree iv the coort is that you may lave your husband's a minsa et thoro."

"What is a minsa et thoro?" impatiently asked Honora.

"Excuse me, madam," replied his honor, "a minsa et thoro is tall English, wich, iv coorse, you don't understhand; thranslated into common phraseology they manes bed an' board."

"But, yir honor, I can't lave my husband's bed an' board bekase he's confined in jail, an' I niver had any desire to share it," interjected Honora.

"The coort can't allow ignorint people to instruct it in law, an' the coort sthands adjourned," angrily replied his honor.

T

HE will of Miss Frances Power Cobbe, who died in April of this year, contained a remarkable clause. Miss Cobbe, whose fame as authoress, social reformer, and philanthropist, is world-wide, had an intense horror of being buried alive, and her will contained a strict and solemn charge to her medical attendant to perform on her body "the operation of completely and thoroughly severing the arteries of the neck and windpipe, nearly severing the head altogether, so as to render any revival in the grave absolutely impossible." In order to make the clause binding she added: "If this operation be not performed and its completion witnessed by one or other of my executors, and testified by the same, I pronounce all the bequests in this will null and void." As Miss Cobbe was

fairly wealthy the executors strictly obeyed the injunction.

Miss Cobbe's fear of premature interment has been shared by many notable people. Daniel O'Connell ordered his heart to be removed from his body and sent to Rome. Harriett Martineau bequeathed her doctor £10 to see that her head was completely severed from her body. Lady Burton, the wife of the distinguished African traveler, scientist and author, directed that her heart should be pierced with a needle and her body submitted to post mortem examination. Meyerbeer left instructions that his body should be left undisturbed for "ten clear days," and that "bells must be fastened to my feet, and veins opened in my arms and legs."

T

HE student in our colleges today inherits privileges, which appear to him as having always existed. No matter how far distant his home may be, he journeys from it in safety. Even though he be the only representative from his State or city, he is entitled to all the rights of citizenship in his university. And not only does his college town give to him all the benefits which she allows her townspeople, she not infrequently offers him special inducements to dwell Iwithin her borders.

But the time was, and it was not so long ago, when these privileges were by no means assured to the man who would study at a university. In the middle ages the student came to the university at his own peril, or it may be protected by a "safe conduct" from the King. There he found himself a member of a group that was either superior or inferior to the other students of the university according as his section of the land was numerically represented, but in either case he had to fight his way to his privileges. If his nationality - Welsh or Scotch for example-held the balance of power, then he must fight to maintain it. If he belonged to a small group, he needs must fight to live at all within the university. And then his feud with his fellow students was but incidental to the feud which all the students had with the town, which was seeking either to expel the university from its gates or to exploit the scholars for its own benefit. The student must fight both his fellow students and the town.

The privileges which the student of our own time enjoys as his right, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries belonged to the "projected efficiency" of college life. And

the students of those centuries were busily engaged in projecting their efficiency.

It is proposed to show in these articles how the contentions among the students from about the time of the Conquest down to the reign of Richard II. did really project the privileges which we of today somewhat heedlessly enjoy. And it is also proposed to suggest the significance of this new chapter of Oxford history, now beginning with the Rhodes Scholarships, as it appears in the light of these old time contentions and their issue.

In order to understand these long and bitter struggles, it is necessary first to know something of the university life at Oxford at the beginning of the thirteenth century; the number of students, their habits, the conditions of the town which they infested, and the powers outside the university to which the disputants constantly appealed.

Both teachers and pupils came to Oxford from all peoples, nations and languages, from England, Wales and Ireland, and from the continental possessions of the English crown. There were Spaniards, Swedes, Bohemians and natives of Hungary and Poland, there were Scotchmen who held a "safe conduct" from the English King, and there were Parisians whose coming was for many years the subject of special clauses in the Anglo-French treaties.1

This concourse of foreign students would seem to indicate a large body of men in the University, and yet there is hardly a point in its early history more difficult to determine than its size. The Archbishop of Armagh, Richard Fitz-Ralph, declared before the Papal Consistory at Avignon in 1357 'S. F. Hulton, Rixe Oxonienses, p. 8.

1

that in his early days there were at Oxford some thirty thousand students. This statement has been quoted by many writers, especially those of early date, and it has been urged in its support that evidence shows there were no less than three hundred inns and halls, each capable of accommodating a hundred students, and that the student body included "barbers, copyists, writers, parchment preparers, illuminators, book-binders, stationers, apothecaries, surgeons and laundresses," in short all persons in any way

thousand strong. So we hardly are justified in thinking that there were less than four thousand students gathered at Oxford between 1200 and 1300.

But if we accept only this smaller number, the elements brought together by four thousand young men in those riotous days must have been a severe tax on the endurance of even a mediaeval community. Some we are told "lived under no discipline, having no tutors, saving him who teacheth all mischief;" while others "thieved and quar

connected with the gown rather than with the town. Then in his account of the temporary expulsion of the university from Oxford by Henry III., in 1264, William of Rishanger tells us that at the time "the number of clerks whose names had been inscribed in the registers of Masters (in matriculus rectorum) was upwards of fifteen thousand." And after the riot of 1298, we learn from the townspeople that the clerks mustered rather more than three

'Lyte, p. 94.

"Huber, I., pp. 67 and 403. Walsingham, p. 514.

relled all day and only for fashion's sake thrust themselves into the schools at ordinary lectures." They dwelt where they pleased, living singly in the houses of the townsfolks, or in halls which a number of them rented together. They had no appreciation of the rights of person or of property; they pillaged each others' rooms, killed citizens and even sacked monasteries. They spent their time with "dibs, dice and cards," and we learn that they enjoyed "ball-play

'Boderick, p. 14: "No more than 2000, or at most 3000."

"Fuller, History of Cambridge, I., p. 34. "Hulton, p. 12.

in the private yards and gardens of the townsmen." We also find that athletes "practysed themselves in shootinge with the bow and arbelstre, to play with the sword and buckler, to runne, to just, to play with the poleaxe, and to wrestle; and they began to bear harneys, to runne horses, and to approve them, as desyringe to be good and faithful knightes to susteyne the faith of God; for youth, emulous of glory, seeks these exercises against the time that war shall demand their presence.""

1

at Oxford we find this custom prevailing in the early days. We hear of the "Northern Nation," including the Scots and northern English, of the "Irish," the "Southern" and the "Welsh." From the first the nations lived in the neighboring halls for reasons of protection, and afterward they frequented certain colleges. For instance, later on, we hear that Exeter College "was much troubled with Welshmen." These nations fought bitterly among themselves about theology and everything which appealed to the aca