COMPANY IN MISERY

Coming so soon after the recent unpleasantness in Harvard Square, it is comforting to read that Oxford has lately been the scene of a somewhat similar loss of dignity. Though there is no indication that the activities of the Bullingdon Club received the attentions of the Oxford police--we presume there are such--nevertheless, from all accounts, the environs of Christ Church college, the scene of spirited action, bore the mark of the invader deeply imprinted. It is reported that it will take a dozen workmen a week to repair the damage wrought by members of the Bullingdon Club in their "exuberance . . . after dinner . . . Saturday night". Misery loves company, and it should be balm to bruised spirits to know that the confreres of the Prince of Wales, who was a member of the Club in college days, can enjoy a friendly riot when entertainment lags.

Yet the jovial group that amused itself with "hockey sticks, copper kettles, pieces of coal and other things" seems to have furnished no cause for sanguinary conflict. The only specified damage was to property, particularly windows. It is safe to imagine, however, that the members of the Bullingdon Club are satisfied with their night's work. It is still uncertain what methods were used to "peacify" the Oxford students, but from accounts there are no broken bones and there is no effort to press the matter.

In connection with the Oxford unpleasantness, we cannot but admire the reasonable methods with which the English always seem to deal with unusual situations. The recent "riot" at Oxford was evidently animated, yet it appears to have been handled in a way that robbed it of real seriousness and made it a matter for ridicule rather than scandal. Obviously they find it both expedient and profitable to make the best of a bad situation instead of making the worst of a harmless one.