In 1830 the reputation of Westminster stood high. The boarding-
houses were well managed, the lagging in them was light, and their
tone was good. Unhappily, in spite of the head master's
remonstrances, Froude's father, who had spent a great deal of money
on his other sons' education, insisted on placing him in college,
which was then far too rough for a boy of his age and strength. On
account of what he had read, rather than what he had learnt, at
Buckfastleigh, he took a very high place, and was put with boys far
older than himself. The lagging was excessively severe. The bullying
was gross and unchecked. The sanitary accommodation was abominable.
The language of the dormitory was indecent and profane. Froude,
whose health prevented him from the effective use of nature's
weapons, was woke by the hot points of cigars burning holes in his
face, made drunk by being forced to swallow brandy punch, and
repeatedly thrashed. He was also more than half starved, because the
big fellows had the pick of the joints at dinner, and left the small
fellows little besides the bone. Ox-tail soup at the pastrycook's
took the place of a meal which the authorities were bound to
provide. Scandalous as all this may have been, it was not peculiar
to Westminster. The state of college at Winchester, and at Eton, was
in many respects as bad. Public schools had not yet felt the
influence of Arnold and of the reforming spirit. Head masters
considered domestic details beneath them, and parents, if they felt
any responsibility at all, persuaded themselves that boys were all
the better for roughing it as a preparation for the discipline of
the world. The case of Froude, however, was a peculiarly bad one. He
was suffering from hernia, and the treatment might well have killed
him. Although his lagging only lasted for a year, he was
persistently bullied and tormented, until he forgot what he had