at all hours, and every desirable guarantee of discipline and quiet provided."-Creasy.

The gain in opportunities for quiet study and privacy, in cherishing habits of steady industry,-and we may add in permitting habits of cleanliness, an almost impossible point in the old Long Chamber-is admitted on all hands. The only loss on the part of the boys is of that wild mirth which old Etonians used to indulge in so heartily, and sometimes so obstreperously.

Part of the New Building is devoted to the Boys' Library, a room of ample size, good proportions, and luminous, as a library always should be. It is very lofty, and a neat gallery is carried round it. Altogether it is a very handsome room, and it is handsomely fitted up. There is a goodly number of books, in great part the gifts of old Etonians. Among them are of course the ordinary classics,-a royal copy of the Regent Delphin' was the gift of George IV.; and there is a fair sprinkling of works in the modern languages; but the staple of the library may be said to be English. The collection is a good one, embracing the best works in general literature. The books are allowed to be taken by the boys to their own rooms, under proper regulations; and they are well read. This, as well as the College library, boasts its jewels. One of these is a translation into French of Gray's Bard,' in Gray's own handwriting. It is written, with his customary neatness, on a sheet of letter-paper, and he has added some remarks from a French review. This relic is carefully inserted between two plates of glass, and mounted on a revolving stand, which is placed in the middle of the room. Another of these literary relics is Gifford's own interleaved copy of his translation of Juvenal,' which contains multifarious and most minute emendations of the text. The handsome or scarce copies of books it is not worth while to mention. Some good casts of antique statues serve to adorn the room, and guide the taste of the students. Adjoining the library is a sort of museum, or model-room. It contains a choice collection of casts of Greek and Roman cameos; a series of the French papier mâché relievo maps, or models of celebrated districts, and other objects suitable to a school museum. We may add, that along the corridors in this New Building are hung numerous large maps. On the whole, we are disposed to regard this New Building as one of the most valuable improvements that could have been made at Eton: and along with the recent alterations in the course of instruction, and in the Election Trials,' as going very far towards remedying the evils which a few years back were so frequently and in many respects so properly complained of, as attendant on an Eton education.

Come with us now-however tired you may be of the College to the Playing Fields-(sometimes called 'The Shooting Fields.')

"And feel the gales that from them blow
A momentary bliss bestow,

As waving fresh their gladsome wing The weary soul they seem to soothe, And redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring."

Very delightful are these Playing Fields. One needs not be an Etonian to enjoy them. Broad sunny meadows dotted over with noble old elms spreading wide their arms in solitary grandeur, or ranged in cheerful groves; the "silver Thames" watering these pleasant meadows; the spires and antique towers of the neighbouring college rising from amidst the stately elms; "the proud keep of Windsor," with its lesser turrets lifting itself royally aloft, on the opposite bank of the noble riverit hardly requires the recollection that

"Here once our careless childhood strayed,

A stranger yet to pain!"

to derive exquisite gratification from contemplating them; but that gratification must, in a genial mind, be both deepened and extended in no trifling measure, on witnessing

66

The sprightly race
Disporting on the margent green
The paths of pleasure trace."

There is hardly a happier sight than a field of schoolboys in their full swing of enjoyment; and it is impossible to look on these Eton boys, and fancy for a moment that theirs is not enjoyment:

"Though some on earnest business bent
Their murm'ring labours ply
'Gainst graver hours that bring constraint
To sweeten liberty.

Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,

Less pleasing when possest;
The tear forgot as soon as shed,

The sunshine of the breast.
Theirs buxom health, of rosy hue,
Wild wit, invention ever new,

And lively cheer, of vigour born;
The thoughtless day, the easy night,
The spirits pure, the slumbers light

That fly the approach of morn."

One is half ashamed to quote like this from a poem so well known as the 'Distant Prospect,' but what other words could so exquisitely portray the Eton scholars as this last stanza from the pride of Etonians? And in truth he must be a very dull man, or have a sad memory, who does not recall these lines of the Eton bard as he strolls through the Playing Fields.

Well, let "the little victims play"-we need not anticipate, more than they do, the cares and the disappointments that are in store for them. They do well to use the present hour, and draw from it as much of wholesome enjoyment as it is capable of affording them: we, too, should do well not to hasten forward to meet care half-way. There is real philosophy in the practice of a schoolboy. The tasks of the day-the "cold business of life," let us do zealously and thoroughly; but let us not regard them as the only objects of life. "Live pleasant," was the maxim Burke urged on his

friends who were toiling amid the weighty duties of public life, and struggling with the anxieties and acerbities of party politics: and "Live pleasant" is a good maxim for each of us-if we only understand it aright. But we must not get philosophising in these Playing Fields, though it is a very proper place for the purpose, and one in which our predecessors have set us the example of so doing; we must proceed on our way. And now whither shall we go next? Shall we stroll up that favourite haunt of the contemplative scholarthe Poets' Walk ;' or across the fields to Datchet, or Upton; or try for a jack at Black Pots, or return to the Christopher ?'-Stay: we must see those wherries start, and admire the steady pull and easy sweep of the lads' oars.

And can we leave the Playing Fields with only this slight reference to the most famous of Eton games? The cricketing may pass unnamed, because it may be equalled elsewhere; but what school will attempt to compete with Eton in rowing? We shall, however, only mention when it may be seen in its most brilliant display. If the reader wishes to behold the glories of Eton boating he should come here on Election Saturday' the last in July-when the half' is wound up by a grand aquatic procession and regatta, and a good supper. It is one of the most famous of Etona's festivals. Every Etonian feels, as one of the choicest of her youthful poets has sung, that,

6

"In our Calendar of Bliss We have no hour so gay as this,

6

Then

When the kind hearts and brilliant eyes Of those we know, and love, and prize, Are come to cheer the captive's thrall And smile upon his festival."

"An interdict is laid on Latin, And scholars smirk in silk and satin.

And there is nought beneath the sun
But dash and splash, and falls and fun."
But what would be the Cynic's mirth,
If Fate would lift him to the earth,
And set his tub, with magic jump,
Squat down beside the Brocas clump!
What scoff's the sage would utter there,
From his unpolish'd elbow-chair,

To see the sempstress' handy work,
The Greek confounded with the Turk,
Parisian mixed with Piedmontese,
And Persian joined to Portuguese;
And mantles short, and mantles long,
And mantles right, and mantles wrong,
Misshaped, miscolour'd, and misplaced,
With what the tailor calls-a taste!
And then the badges, and the boats,
The flags, the drums, the paint, the coats;
But more than these, and more than all,-
The puller's intermitted call,

"Pray, reader, were you ever here

Just at this season of the year?
No?-then the end of next July
Should bring you, with admiring eye,
To hear us row, and see us row,

And cry-How fast them boys does go!'"

bers of spectators were always present on these occasions. Old Etonians of all ranks and professions liked to be there; the friends of the present generation of scholars were there also; the noble and beautiful, too, honoured it with their presence; and generally royalty also was graciously pleased to smile upon the festival. The sum raised under the name of 'salt' was usually above £1000; on the last occasion it amounted to

And this reminds us of another festival-the pride of every Etonian of every age and degree-which, though now, alas! among the things that were, we fear we should hardly be forgiven if we passed unnoticed. We are not sure, indeed, whether we are not the more bound to notice it on the very account of its having ceased to be. The Montem abolished! how every Etonian would have been horrified by the bare suggestion of such a catastrophe twenty years ago! But so it is; and the Montem must henceforth repose on the page of history, as un fait accompli. Its work is done: it has played its part in the great drama.

Is there one of our readers who asks what was the Montem? if one there be, we must satisfy him. We will for him give in our own dull prose a plain account of the thing; and then by means of a few extracts from a vigorous sketch, published some five and twenty years ago in Knight's Quarterly Magazine,' help all who have not had the good fortune to be there to realize the scene:

The Eton Montem, then, was a ceremony celebrated, from time immemorial, every third year. Originally the Montem day was the first Tuesday in Hilary term, which commenced on the 23rd of January; but somewhat less than a century back it was changed to WhitTuesday. On that day the scholars assembled in fancy dresses each being habited as his inclination led him-and proceeded in procession to a barrow known as Salt Hill, situated just beyond Slough, on the Bath road. The procession marched in military array, commanded by a marshal, a colonel, &c.; the ensign bearing a large flag; while two 'salt-bearers,' assisted by a number of 'scouts,' or ' servitors,' levied contributions on the spectators, under the name of 'salt-money,' and gave in return a card bearing some quaint motto, as, mos pro lege,' or, as on the last occasion, (1844) 'pro more et monte. On reaching Salt Hill the ensign *Surly Hall,' by Winthrop Mackworth Praed, in the

'Etonian.'

From the following lines, quoted in 'Brande's Popular Antiquities' from 'The Favourites-a Simile' 1712, it appears to have then been the practice to give salt in return for the money:

"When boys at Eton, once a year,

In military pomp appear,

The little legion all assail,

Arrest without release or bail: Each passing traveller must halt, Must pay the tax, and eat the salt.

surplus was given to the Captain, or senior scholar at the time of the Montem.

Antiquaries have laboured hard to discover the origin of the custom. It has been traced to the festival of the Boy Bishop; to a monkish procession in honour of the Virgin-what says our guide? "Out upon your eternal hunting for causes and reasons. I love the no-meaning of Montem. I love to be asked for 'salt' by a pretty boy in silk stockings and satin doublet, though the custom has been called " something between begging and robbing.' I love the apologetical Mos pro Lege,' which defies the police and the Mendicity Society. I love the absurdity of a captain taking precedence of a marshal; and a marshal bearing a gilt bâton at an angle of forty-five degrees from his right hip; and an ensign flourishing a flag with the grace of a tight-rope dancer; and sergeants paged by fair-skinned Indians and beardless Turks; and corporals in sashes and gorgets, guarded by innocent polemen in blue jackets and white trowsers. I love the mixture of real and mock dignity;-the provost, in his cassock, clearing the way for the Duchess of Leinster to see the ensign make his bow; or the head master gravely dispensing his leave till nine, to Counts of the Holy Roman Empire, and Grand Signors. I love the crush in the cloisters and the mob on the mount-I love the clatter of carriages, and the plunging of horsemen-I love the universal gaiety from the peer who smiles and sighs that he is no longer an Eton boy, to the country girl who marvels that such little gentlemen have cocked-hats and real swords. Give me a Montem with all its tom-foolery-I had almost said before a coronation-and even without the aids of a Perigord pie and a bottle of claret at the Windmill.'"

Gentle reader do you begin to feel something of the right Montem spirit? Look a little closer with our trusty guide at the gathering, and the ceremonial-and lament over the lack of taste or of opportunity which kept you from witnessing the reality. "The breakfast done, we take our station in the college quadrangle. The captain with his retinue retires to offer his respects to the provost at his levée; and Dr. Keate [then head master] gathers round him in his study a few of those

You don't love salt, you say; and stormLook o' these staves, sir,-and conform." Towards the end of the century the salt-bearers were a little less exacting: they merely insisted on the passengers taking a pinch of salt in return for his contribution, without compelling him to eat it.

We have dwelt longer on the lighter matters connected with Eton College than on the more serious; but ours is a book of sketches, not of elaborate pictures. The history of Eton College, and a more minute description of its buildings and their contents, together with a fuller account of its system of education, must be sought for in bulkier and more formal volumes.

The history of Eton College remains to be adequately written but since the preceding pages were in type, we have seen a little volume just published entitled 'Some Account of Eton College,' by Professor Creasy, of University College, London, that will supply ample details of the state of education in the College as well now as before the recent improvements. Although it is too late for us to embody in the proper place the result of the author's recollections and observations, we may venture to make two or three extracts here, which will let the reader see what is the opinion of so competent an authority on the present condition of Etonand add powerful support to what we have said on the subject. The sketch of the career of an Eton student we fancy will be not the least interesting to a reader who is unacquainted with the routine of a great public school. "When a boy is entered at Eton he is examined by the assistant- master who is to be his tutor, and according to the report made of his proficiency he is placed, at first provisionally, and soon afterwards permanently, in the part of the school for which he is considered fit. No boy is however allowed to be placed at first so high as on the fifth form. Each boy is on first coming placed on the list as last of the remove to which he is attached; so that precedency in each remove depends primarily on comparative long-standing at the school. But this is very much modified by the examinations and trials which a boy passes through in most of the forms, and the changes of place among the

**** The fourth

form is the proper part of the school for a boy of eleven or twelve years old, the age at which most lads are sent to Eton. We will suppose a boy of eleven to have entered there, and to be found on examination not grossly deficient in the average standard of acquirements of boys of that age. That is to say, he must not exactly be like Shakespeare, 'knowing little Latin and less Greek,' but he ought to have received instruction for four or five years in the former language, and to have read one or two easy books in the latter. He must know thoroughly the Latin grammar, and be able to apply its rules, and must have made some progress in acquiring a similar familiarity with the Greek grammar. He should be able to do exercises in Latin prose, and also to turn translations from easy Latin elegiacs back into the language and metre of the original by the help of dictionary and gradus, and with the occasional suggestion of a more recondite word or particular idiom. We will suppose a boy thus qualified, and of corresponding acquirements in other respects, to be sent to Eton at eleven years old and to be entered in the lower remove fourth form. Here he will most likely find himself placed the last of a batch of thirty or forty boys, some of whom have come up from the Lower School at the last yearly remove, while others, like our supposed new-comer, have been enrolled in the little company after it emerged into the Upper School. Our tyro will find that every day at Eton has its fixed duties, every school-time its appointed lessons, and every week its fixed exercises in composi tion, which he will have to prepare under the superintendence of his tutor, in whose pupil-room every lesson is rehearsed and every exercise revised before it is construed or shown up in school. He will remain under the care of the same tutor all the time that he is at Eton, but as he passes through the different ranks of the school he will come under different masters in school-time, each assistant-master presiding exclusively over one particular part of the school, and the sixth form, with ten or twelve of the fifth form, being under the personal authority and teaching of the Head-master.

*

*** Supposing our imaginary student to have gone to Eton soon after Easter, he would obtain a step in the following June, and rise with those around him into the middle remove fourth form; in December he would similarly rise into the upper remove fourth form; but neither of these advances would be accompanied by any trials or material alteration in his studies, though of course longer and better exercises, and a better style of construing his lessons, would be gradually required of him, But when he comes to the next step, the step by which he is to advance out of the fourth form into the remove, he undergoes a strict examination together with his companions, and the order in which they pass into the remove is materially regulated by the way in which each passes these trials.” We cannot, with the professor, follow the boy through every stage; suffice it that, "after passing into the upper remove of the lower division of the fifth form, a