but there is no reason why it should not be, for the most part, accomplished in the course of a few years.

As might be expected, Eton takes the lion's share of the Evidence and of the Report. Its size and importance would naturally have led to this result; but in addition to these circumstances, peculiar attention has lately been turned towards Eton, and its constitution is so complicated, that, as Coke said of the law of Parliament, it is known but to few, and has to be inquired of by all.' A grave and affectionate remonstrance against the defects of the school, delivered in the form of a country lecture by one of its most distinguished old scholars, may be considered as having opened the late great impeachment of Eton. This was followed by various attacks and defences, which could not fail to increase the general interest in the question; and for some time past Eton has been in the centre of the battle of the public schools.

One of the first things that strikes an inquirer about the prerogatives and ways of Eton, is the extreme difficulty of obtaining any accurate information about them, for almost every purpose. On many points old Etonians are themselves as little able to explain the regulations and customs of the place as a stranger might be. And it is clear from what is said in the Evidence now collected, by some of the persons whose means of knowledge would seem to have been the best, that many things will be taught even to them for the first time by their appearence in these Bluebooks. This is partly owing to an habitual, and doubtless prudent reticence as to their financial affairs on the part of the collegiate body, partly to the excessive labours of an Eton master's life, his whole time being occupied with his own immediate duties, and very much also to the want of any means of intercourse either for purposes of business or society, among the educational staff. One of the assistant-masters (himself an old colleger), and whose answers are among the most important, had never heard

of the Godolphin bequest until he saw it mentioned in the Evidence; and the same gentleman says that 'not a soul in Eton, perhaps, had an accurate notion of the value of the Fellowships, before these returns were printed. The admirable chief of the mathematical school, than whom no man has done more for Eton, 'has not the most remote conception how many boys in the school pay for extra mathematics.' Another assistant-master says, 'very often it is through the Times that I find out who has gained the prizes at Eton.'

There is nothing like this to be Imet with in the Evidence from the other schools; and it is one of the peculiarities of Eton (and it is a thoroughly English peculiarity) that with so much confusion, and under a constitution so tangled that it can only be rivalled by that of the British monarchy itself, such excellent results have been and are being attained.

First among the externally distinctive characters of Eton is the great fact of the existence of the large school of Oppidans, side by side with, and resting upon the old foundation of Henry VI. The college proper of Eton-created on the model of Winchester by the pious munificence of its royal deviser-first surviving the jealous hostility of Edward IV.-and then living on through many generations of negligence and misappropriation of funds-now flourishes as the nucleus and back bone of the vast educational establishment which has grown up around it. The connexion with King's College at Cambridge, ' whither Eton annually sendeth forth her ripe fruit,' has no doubt been of great use (with all its disadvantages) in effectually preserving the old college of Eton for its destined purposes. This secured the existence elsewhere of an independent body, whose duty and interest it has always been to maintain the educational functions of the college at Eton. Without this it is possible that, notwithstanding its proximity to Windsor, notwithstanding the conspicuous size and beauty of its buildings, Eton might have shared

the fate of many of the smaller endowed grammar schools, and that all its revenues might have been diverted from their intended uses.

What has actually been done, indicates what might have happened. The calm way in which the Godolphin bequest was treated, and the ingenious appropriation of the fines in former days to the Fellows' dividends-the yearly rents only being carried to the public account—disclose the risks that have been run, and incline one to be thankful that the funds at the disposal of the present collegiate body are still so large, and in so flourishing a condition, as to enable it to fulfil the wish which, it may be trusted, is now dominant, to give the fullest efficiency to the intentions of the founder.

It is a mistake to suppose that the growth of the Oppidan school was in contravention of these intentions. On the contrary, it is plain that a class of 'commensales,' corresponding to the pensioners of a college at Oxford or Cambridge, was contemplated from the beginning. This class, however, has expanded to an extent that could no more have been expected by the founder and his learned advisers, than the present condition of England, with all its sources of wealth and varieties of social status, could have been dreamed of in the year 1441. It is obvious, too, that the presence of the Oppidans is a source of great benefit to the Foundation scholars, for without them the school would not be what it is; and that, in general, the advantages of the school to the country at large have become far greater than if the main design only of the founder had been rigidly carried out.

The corporate wealth of the college is considerable. The income from landed property exceeds twenty thousand a year, and will be largely augmented by the falling in of leases, and the probable discontinuance of the practice of granting leases on fines, as well as by the improvement, in certain localities, of the value of land. There is also an amount of upwards of twenty thousand pounds held in Govern

ment stock, the income of which is chiefly appropriated to Exhibitions founded by various benefactors. It contains, also, a sum of £4000 (now accumulated to £8000), bequeathed by an ancient Provost Godolphin, for the increase of the King's scholars' commons-which in former times seems not to have been applied to its destined use, the interest having been allowed to accumulate, and the capital sum of which has more recently been borrowed for building purposes, the interest, however, now being applied as intended. The Commissioners are mild in describing this as an irregular transaction; but it would be hard to visit on the present generation of Provost and Fellows the sins of their predecessors, and, as this fund is ear-marked, and has been carefully accounted for, no very serious or irreparable injury has been done. Former races of collegers, it may be true, have gone without the better commons which it was the wish of the benevolent old Provost that they should enjoy. But, for the future, it may be expected that the dinners in Hall, although now substantially good, may be improved in variety, and that such dishes as Boudins à la Godolphin, Fromage à la Commission, and, possibly, even Poulets à la Bluebook, may be seen figuring in the collegers' bills-of-fare.

On the whole, compared with the proceedings of other collegiate and ecclesiastical bodies, and measured by the corporate morality which was prevalent during the last two or three centuries, it cannot fairly be said that the dealings of the authorities at Eton with their property, in successive generations, are open to more than the general censure which the better spirit of the present day must cast upon nearly the whole past of similar transactions.

Another peculiarity of Eton is the complete and incessant control exercised over the management and discipline of the school by a dignified authority on the spot, to whom, as to his official superior, the headmaster is bound to give implicit obedience, and without whose consent not the smallest change can be

made in the conduct of the school. The Provost and Fellows are, as at the Universities, the governing body of the college. The Provost acts alone, in ordinary affairs, in the government of the school. The head-master, and master of the lower school-the only masters contemplated by the charters-are appointed by the Provost and Fellows, and are entirely responsible to them. The Provost has, in modern times, always been a retired head-master -the fittest person by experience to give counsel, from his retirement, to his successor, in the more active sphere which he has left; but, on that very account, in some respects the worst person to possess unlimited power; for, in such a position, it is natural to dislike change, and this tends to obstruct or postpone improvement; while his disconnection from the actual executive power deprives the Provost of any influence among the boys, although it does not seem to have the effect of disparaging with them the authority of the head-master. Dr. Busby, at Westminster, when he kept his hat on his head while conducting Charles II. through the school, said that his boys must not know of a greater person than himself; but no such danger seems to exist at Eton, although the boys constantly see their master in the presence of his official sovereign. The Fellows are almost always retired assistantmasters. The income of the Provost is estimated at £1876; and that of a Fellow at from £801 to £851 annually; but college livings of considerable value are also held by the Provost and Fellows.

Of the 800 boys at Eton, 70 are Kings' scholars, and live in the college buildings proper. The Oppidans, constituting the rest of the school, are distributed in some thirty boarding-houses. Every boy is under the peculiar charge of one of the classical assistant-masters as his tutor.' The number of smaller domestic communities into which the boys are thus broken up, together with the tutorial' system, contributes to foster that individuality of character which we believe is not one of the least im

portant results of Eton training. Whether in college, or at a dame's or quasi-dame's house, the relation with one of the masters as tutor must exist, and it lasts through the whole of the school life. It creates a peculiar relation of trust and confidence with the tutor, which is of the utmost moral value.

In a majority of cases now, the tutor is also the master of the house in which the boy is a boarder. Ultimately this will be uniformly the case (except with the boys in college), as the gradual extinction of the dames' houses is contemplated. When Carlisle published his history of the public schools (in 1818) there seem to have been only 30 boys, out of 471, who were not in dames' houses.

Both in college, and in all the houses, boys have each a separate room, with the few exceptions when two brothers occupy the same room; and this is also one of the distinctive features of Eton.

Monitorial power has almost ceased to exist; and the maintenance of the discipline of the school does not, in any degree, really depend upon it. This chiefly depends on tradition, on the honour of the boys, and on the frequent_occasions of assembling during the day, which make any long absence from superintendence impracticable, yet leaving more liberty and variety of amusement than is enjoyable elsewhere.

There could be no more independent and excellent testimony to the working of the general system at Eton, than that of Mr. Stephen Hawtrey. He was not an Etonian, and he came to the school as a stranger, endeavouring to introduce the study of mathematics, at a time when they were regarded with no greater favour or respect than French or fencing. He dwells on the grand simplicity, the serenity and repose of character in Eton boys, the absence of any peculiar mannerism; and, by all who take delight in the well-being of Eton, his contributions to the Evidence will be read with pleasure and satisfaction.

With all that is to be praised, it

is not altogether satisfactory to find masters saying (as, for instance, Mr. Browning does), that it is impossible for a boy to obtain any influence in the school by intellectual distinction; and that the most influential boys are the captains of the boats and cricket eleven. It is well, however, that this influence is not likely to be a bad one, for, as Mr. Johnson says, 'boys do not succeed in the games unless possessed of fine moral qualities.' Only when one hears of five hours a day being thought requisite to attain proficiency in cricket, it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that such success is purchased somewhat dearly, and that the laudable desire to excel in games cannot now be gratified without the sacrifice of all chance of educational distinction.

The position of the masters at Eton cannot be considered as altogether what it should be. Their remuneration is uncertain and insufficient; and much of it depends upon their popularity as keepers of boarding-houses-of which there is, indeed, not one for every master. The school secures their services for a nominal sum; and they are really paid by private pupils and boarders. They have no sufficient opportunities of access to the higher authorities of the school; they are overwhelmed with work, and have no time for society or mutual mental cultivation. With the mathematical masters it is still worse. They continue in an inferior position, as mere teachers, and not as masters responsible in enforcing discipline, and entitled to respect; and, until recently, they were denied any external marks of consideration. They had no seats in chapel, and were not allowed to wear their academical dress. They cannot easily get boarding-houses; and when they do, they do not receive as large a payment as their more fortunate classical colleagues.

The position of Eton is indeed remarkable in the present discussion on public schools. At the very time that it is the foremost object of

attack, its numbers are rising enormously, and its ranks are swelled as much by the sons of old Etonians, who know it best, as by recruits from fresh quarters. It is said to be the idlest, but it is also in University honours one of the most distinguished of the schools. With all this lazy prosperity, and with all its honours, Eton seems to have been indifferent to praise, and equally careless of censure. It remains to be seen in what spirit Eton will receive the sixty-four recommendations of the Commissioners, made expressly for its benefit, and ranging from organic changes in the constitution of the governing body of the school, to the abolition of the time-honoured practice of shirking' a master out of bounds, There are at Eton men of first-rate abilities, who have themselves achieved splendid academical success, and are now engaged in their various stations, in carrying on the duties of the school. The answers contained in the Bluebooks, which for the present we lay aside, show how many of these gentlemen have their whole hearts in their work, and how anxious they are for the adoption of every alteration that will tend to improve the teaching and raise the character or the school. We cannot think that all these aspirations, that all this intelligent and experienced opinion, collected on the spot, can fail of producing some good result. In the nature of things, such reforms must be slow; but we think they are certain, and that there will be an Eton of the future with finer features than the Eton of the past-a matre pulchra filia pulchrior,-and long to flourish as the fairest and noblest guardian of England's best youth.

We may return, on another occasion, to some of the subjects of the Commissioners' Report, and more especially to the questions of extending instruction in science and modern languages in the public schools.

HE twilight had come down so

THE

rapidly over the Lincolnshire marshes this dull December afternoon, that although it was but little past four o'clock, the library at the Rectory was quite dark, and the Reverend Cyrus Hurst could no longer see the page before him. So he closed the volume and his eyes, and leaning back in his easy chair, composed himself for a little quiet thought. Now a little quiet thought at this hour of the day, and in an easy chair, was, with the Rector, synonymous with sleep. Thus, a few minutes hence, his head bent forward, his chin sank upon his breast, his hand relaxed its hold of the book upon his knee (which slipped quietly to the floor), and a deep bass music began to float through the chamber.

Now, if ever a room disposed its occupants to sleep, or aided and abetted drowsiness, it was

the

library at Skegsthorpe Rectory. From the eyeless bust of a Roman poet, dozing over the doorway, to the heavy Fathers of the Church, who slept in dust and calf-skin

on

the bookshelves, everything breathed a slumberous air, and suggested drowsy meditations and afterdinner naps. There was nothing light nor wakeful about the chamber. All was solid, sleepy, and substantial; thick comfortable carpets, heavy, sound-deadening curtains, ponderous elephant-legged tables, sofas that looked as if they snored in the dead of night, and chairs that you felt inclined to shake up and awake before you sat down in them. There was a plethoric old book-case in one corner of the room, that evidently suffered from nightmare, and a drowsy brass coal-pan, winking near the fire, that plainly took a quiet nap every afternoon. As for the easy chair in which the Rector was sitting, it was as bad as taking opium to look at it. Woe

betide the man who resigned himself to its insidious arms, on a hot summer's afternoon! Strangers had been known to fall asleep in it five minutes after they had entered the room, and had been discovered by the Rector, snoring, at the end of ten. Even Job Turler, the parish clerk, in a rash moment once seated himself on those fatal cushions, and succumbing immediately, slept three hours after the time appointed for a wedding where his services were wanted; and the tale was told against him in the village to this day.

Then again, there was always such a dim subdued light in this old-fashioned room, even at mid-day, that sleep would steal upon you ere you were aware. This drowsy light was owing partly to the dark wainscoted walls and ceiling, and partly to the painted glass in the upper portion of the large bow-windows that looked out into the garden. Outside this window grew a clump of laurels and an old yew tree, that increased the gloom of the chamber, and rendered it green and cool on the brightest summer's day. All these things taken into consideration, the library at the Rectory certainly did seem made to provoke slumber, and it was not therefore so much to be wondered that the Rector should be nodding in his easy chair at this moment.

Let us take the opportunity of saying a few words about the Rector and his family, whilst he dozes away in the twilight the half-hour before dinner.

The Reverend Cyrus Hurst is a man on whose head the snows of some seventy winters rest. But he bears his years well, and though somewhat portly and podagric, and having a trace of the bon-vivant in his heavy under lip, is active for his age, and able to walk his ten miles at a stretch, if needs be. He