Throughout the eighteenth century the two ancient Universities had enjoyed almost complete immunity from public criticism. They rarely attracted the attention of the Government unless rumoured to be fostering Jacobite sentiments, and the interest aroused in Parliament by the proposal to throw them open to Dissenters was very fleeting. There was no inclination to enquire into the education they gave or the use which they made of their endowments, for in that easy-going age wealth and privilege were seldom called upon to justify themselves to the nation; and, as they enabled the rich to enjoy themselves and the poor to attain positions of comparative opulence and dignity, there seemed no occasion to mark what was amiss. There was comfort in the thought that they must know their own business best, and that, if they needed reform, they would doubtless undertake it.

But quite early in the nineteenth century these homes of learning began to feel the cold blast of criticism. The time when sleeping dogs were allowed to lie had come to an end; and henceforth the Universities, like other national institutions, were being constantly weighed in the scales and found wanting. The Edinburgh Review, which first appeared in October 1802, adopted from the outset a very hostile attitude towards Oxford, depicting it as in the darkness of the Middle Ages; and though it treated Cambridge more kindly on account of its encouragement of mathematics, its indulgence was frequently tempered with sharp reproofs.