Of our own correspondent
HUGH TREVOR-ROPER
The Letters of Mercurius (John Murray 30s)
The letters of Mercurius Oxoniensis are already familiar to most readers of the SPEMTOR, where they first appeared in print. The earliest of them was published in November, 1968, soon after Mr Tariq Al's great London 'Demo', which was to usher in the Millennium, and its faint Oxford echo, the siege of All Souls College by four undergraduates armed with a revolutionary banner. Once begun, the series ran for nearly two years, in the course of which the in- timacies of our oldest university were un- sparingly revealed to the profane readers of this paper. 'Student stirs', college and uni- versity elections and controversies, the out- ward gestures of the 'fanatiques' and the inner mysteries of 'the Old-soules club', all were exposed in the regular bulletins which Mercurius sent to his metropolitan friend Mercurius Londiniensis and which (if we can believe the author) were improperly intercepted by the 'nippy fingers' of the late editor of the SPECTATOR, 'Master Lawson'.
Then, in June 1970, Mercurius fell sud- denly silent. His last published letter reported Signs and portents of imminent change Which may have referred to the rout of the Labour government in the General Election of that month. Some commentators have seen a connection between that even and this silence. Remembering the headlong rush of academic economists (and others) to Whitehall in 1964, to advise Mr Wilson, they Fonjecture that Mercurius is now kept busy m the corridors of power, advising Mr Heath. He is, after all, eminently qualified, being an expert on Aristotle's Politics. A more plausible explanation is supplied by Mercurius himself. His last letter showed
that he was, at that time, apprehensive of a writ from that distinguished scholar, Dr A. L. Rowse, and that, to avoid service of such a writ, he had gone to ground in Hereford- shire. It may well be that lack of news in that remote county, as well as fear of reprisals, has stilled his pen. It may equally be that (as he himself writes) he is resolved to keep silence until the statue of his tutilary deity Mercury is restored to its position in the Great Quadrangle of Christ Church. On the other hand we should not forget that there was a change, last summer, in 99 Gower Street no less than in 10 Downing Street. Perhaps Master Gale has less nippy fingers, or less interest in Mercurius' letters, than Master Lawson.
If this last explanation is true, we must assume that the letters of Mercurius, though no longer intercepted, are still being written, received, and filed away in a London cup- board: for we know that 'good brother Londiniensis', in spite of explicit instruc- tions, does not burn his correspondence. This reflection cannot fail to disquiet us other poor college moles, toads, tortoises, snails, mice, water-rats, etc. as Mercurius (who draws his customary metaphors from pond and hedgerow) so genially calls us. Even more alarming is a casual remark which Mercurius lets fall while sending to his friend a 'brief life' of 'that good old man', the late R. H. Dundas, formerly a revered member of my old college. This sketch is evidently by one John Aubrey, FRS, who, we are told, has many more such potted and pungent biographies kept 'under close lock and key, for good reason'. These are ominous words. Some of us may think of good reasons why they should not have been written, or communicated to the
indiscreet Mercurius, on whom we may well wish to exercise some wholesome seventies. The difficulty is to identify him. No one seems to know who Mercurius is. Many of my colleagues have come under suspicion. I have more than once been positively assured that he is the Provost of Queen's College. But that able writer, when chal- lenged, has firmly disclaimed the honour and designated, as more likely authors, the Uni- versity Registrar and Lord Franks. Others maintain that Mercurius is a syndicate, like Homer. This view is said to be received as orthodox in Christ Church; which for me is a strong argument that it is true. As one who has himself been suspected (see letter no. xiv), I am naturally as anxious as any one to detect and neutralise the real culprit, and now that the available letters are pub- lished together, I have scrutinised them care- fully in the hope of coming to some con- clusion.
According to his own admission. Mer- curius is an elderly bachelor and a Fellow of one of the colleges in Turl Street. He is (or was till recently) a college tutor, and he seems, from his ready latinity, to be a classical scholar. All this evidence seemed to point conclusively towards Mr. Dacre Balsdon, whose learned and witty pen has recently been so active. Unfortunately, this identification is somewhat shaken by the 'authentic portrait of Mercurius by his friend Mr. Osbert Lancaster' which has been printed in this volume in order (as we are told) `to end all controversy'. Alas, it only brings us back again to Square One. Mr.
Lancaster, I note in passing, was himself at a Turl college—viz: Lincoln College. I do not know whether this is relevant.
The recipient of the letters, Mercurius Londiniensis, we are now informed, is a 'well-known professor at LSE'. As none of his letters are published, his identity can-
not rationally be conjectured. We only know that he is married, for this collection con- tains one letter to his wife Mercuria from Iris Oxoniensis, the sister of our chronicler.
There seems to be a Mercurius Cantabri- giensis hovering indistinctly in the back- ground, from which he has not, so far, emerged. There is also an interesting letter from one Mercurius Edinensis (since deceased), which sheds a flood of light on intellectual life north of the Border, and on the recent controversial invasions of it by Mr Malcolm Muggeridge.
As an observer of our academic follies, Mercurius is, in general, so far as I can see, reliable enough. But his fancy occasionally takes flight and he is a little too apt to drop names, claiming a familiarity which is not always admitted by the other party. There are also occasional inaccuracies which a more critical reviewer could exploit against him. His views are not illiberal, but his is certainly not the liberalism of Messrs Grimond, Thorpe and co., far less that of Lord Beaumont, Bishop Montefiore, and Mr Eaks, on most of whom he has some dry observations. He has some robust pre- judices too, whose expression may be accentuated by the style he has chosen, or rather (as it seems to me) has adopted from his 17th century precursor. Antony Wood.
But they are compensated by an equally robust common-sense: that is. I often find myself in agreement with him; and although he may seem to Balliol men a crusted Tory, and to All Souls men a dangerous radical, they would all. I think, agree that he is without malice. As his editor remarks, 'he is slightly crotchety, but kept generally in good humour by his family circle and friends'.
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