triumphant revival of it, or something very like it, in the Freshman Dormitories. The congenital defect, that from the beginning stunted and strangled and finally killed the Commons system, was Puritan parsimony.
With a vision as narrow in practical affairs as in theological dogmas, the founders of the College resolutely blinked the fact that the Oxford and Cambridge halls were enabled to continue successfully for century after century because they supplied their students, after the hearty old English manner, with good and ample cheer.[1] To be sure, the expatriates could not hope to follow them fully in this regard. Heaven knows the early fare of New England was rough and restricted enough, but the fare of Commons always managed to go one better—or worse—in both respects. The authorities seem to have proceeded on the theory, still sometimes heard, that “boys will eat anything.” In their anxiety to keep down the expense of a college education for a struggling and impoverished community they made the fatal mistake of economizing first of all in food. They could not see far enough to realize that in
- ↑ Even upon the statutory fasting days the English collegians did not suffer unduly. A report on the condition of the universities made to Archbishop Laud in 1637 states that although on Fridays, in Lent, etc, there was no meat served in hall, yet “the victualling houses prepare Flesh, good store, for all scholars…upon all such fasting nights in schollers chambers are generally the best suppers of the whole week, and for the most part of Flesh meate all.” Venn, Early Collegiate Life, 222.
