It was amusing to notice the perturbation which this departure from a time-honoured tradition caused in certain scholastic circles and among the self-styled “friends of culture.” But on the whole the action was favourably commented upon by the more influential newspapers and leading educational journals. It was regarded as the inevitable consequence of modern necessity, and of the gradual recognition that the traditions of mediæval schoolmen were not sacrosanct or necessarily the best adapted to new requirements.
In drafting the Constitution of the new University power was of course taken in accordance with established procedure, and in deference to the democratic tendencies of British seats of learning, to form the body known as Convocation, and those of the former students of Owens College who came within certain definitions were made its first members.
It would seem to be the inevitable tendency of all Convocations to play the part of a Parliamentary Opposition. Their primary duty, as they conceive it, is to criticize and to take an independent view of the policy of the university, as determined by the governing or executive powers. No doubt such criticism is salutary if wisely directed, but experience has shown that it is sometimes factious and occasionally obstructive. Much, therefore, depends upon the chairman. It was felt by many of the members that it was specially important at the outset to make a prudent selection if Convocation was to secure from the beginning its proper influence and dignity as a deliberative assembly. The Extreme Left—there is always such a group in such a gathering—had promptly proposed Dr. Richard Marsden Pankhurst, a student of the College in the Quay Street days, and now mainly remembered as the husband and father of certain ladies who have distinguished themselves in the cause of Woman Suffrage. Dr. Pankhurst was never regarded quite seriously in College circles—least of all by his former associates, who on a dull evening at the Union would occasionally put him up to make a political harangue in the style of the Convention, when he would declaim the most blood-curdling sentiments in a highly pitched falsetto, with all the fiery eloquence and fervid passion of a Danton or a Hebert. But however powerful the appeals to a youthful enthusiasm, the stones of Quay Street remained unmoved, nor was Deansgate at any time blocked with barricades.