The torpidity of the University of Cambridge in I the eighteenth century has passed almost into a by-word, and it is commonly taken for granted that those responsible for its guidance and administration were supremely indifferent to the need of adjusting ancient institutions to changed conditions, and had no higher ambition than to continue unworthily to batten upon the bounty of former benefactors. There is much truth in this picture but not the whole truth. Undoubtedly during the first half of the eighteenth century the University was sunk in a lethargy which was only broken by rather sordid disputes and wrangles, very remotely connected with either learning or education. But this was not so during the latter part of the century when a party arose with a programme of reform and prepared to give battle for its opinions. During a few years the University was being continually called upon to set its house in order and to discard the medieval rubbish it had accumulated. It was inevitable that these appeals should be resisted, for they nearly always either threatened vested interests or ran counter to deeply rooted prejudices; and they were nearly always successfully resisted. Yet the reform movement is not thereby robbed of all significance or interest. It was no small gain that the upholders of ancient traditions should be even unsuccessfully challenged, for the waters were thereby stirred, and a younger generation familiarised with the idea that all was not so well as their seniors thought.