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parish where he lived; but this he deemed to be out of his jurisdiction; on one occasion, however, having committed an offence within the school, the master punished him very severely, and with such effect as to produce an almost immediate change. The lad's improvement was so marked, that the master felt justified in recommending him to a lady who wanted a servant-boy; he behaved himself in the situation admirably for three when he moved into a years, family of distinction, in which he is now living as butler, and from which he writes to the master with the feelings of a child to a father.

No. 110 came from the National School, to the great joy of the master of the same, who said that he could do nothing with him, nor make anything of him. However, he soon began to improve, and was taken out by Archdeacon Mackenzie, a warm friend of the school and member of its committee, to Natal, where he is still, and bears an excellent character.

This list might be easily extended; but it is already long enough for its purpose. It does not prove that an industrial school is sufficient to reform all the juvenile population of a large town, but it certainly shows that it may be the means of doing great good, and that many a poor lad may be lifted by its agency from misery and criminality. Nor is it a very expensive piece of machinery: the only expensive part of the business is the supply of dinners to the boys, and, in the most extravagant times, I believe, the price of a dinner has never mounted up to twopence, while it has generally been much less: and the appearance of the school on the outskirts of the town, with its neat

garden, and busy workshops, and gang of industrious lads, whose faces show clearly enough what would be their employment if they were not there, is a sight to do good to the hearts of the inhabitants. Indeed, if the question be regarded from an entirely financial point of view, and the expense of the school be set against the expense of prosecuting the boys and keeping them in gaol, I have no doubt that an industrial school far more than pays itself. Yet, after all, the success turns very much upon the master, as might be expected from the reason of the thing, and as any one would perceive, who visited the Cambridge Industrial School, or who examined the letters which I have had before me while writing this paper, and from which I have given a few extracts. It is the combination of extreme kindness of heart, and true Christian devotion to a great work, with a clear head and iron determination to be obeyed, that can alone ensure success. It is manifest from their own letters, that every one of the boys, whose cases I have chronicled above, look upon the master as their father, and upon the school as the home of their best feelings. The same sentiment has ever pervaded the school. Poor lads! many of them never knew much of parental kindness and of home affections, until they found these blessed influences there. What is to be done, said I one day to an Inspector of Schools, who was bemoaning the depravity of much of the juvenile population in his districtwhat is to be done to bring about an improvement? We must find a number of men, was the answer, like the master of your Industrial School.

19

THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY BOAT OF 1860.

BY G. O. TREVELYAN, TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

In accordance with a custom established for some years past, the following lines were written, by request, before the event of the contest. Whether they

had a Tyrtæan effect may be doubted: their prophetic attributes cannot be denied. The allusions are of a local nature, but the general interest excited by the race may justify their insertion. It may be well to remind our readers of the names of the oarsmen, and their position in the boat.

1. S. HEATHCOTE, Trinity.

2. H. J. CHAYTOR, Jesus.
3. D. INGLES, Trinity.

4. J. S. BLAKE, Corpus.

5. M. COVENTRY, Trinity Hall.

6. B. N. CHERRY, Clare.

7. A. H. FAIRBAIRN, Trinity.
8. J. HALL, Magdalene.
J. T. MORLAND, Trinity,
Coxswain.

SOME twenty years back, o'er his nectar one day,

King Jove to the gods in Olympus did say :

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Degenerate mortals, it must be confessed,

Grow smaller each year round the arm and the chest.

Not ten modern navvies together could swing

The stone that great Ajax unaided did fling.

They may talk of their Heenan, and Paddock, and Nat:

I'll bet that old Milo, though puffy and fat,

Would thrash the whole ring, should they come within range,
From slashing Tom Sayers to sneaking Bill Bainge.

I've determined, as plain as the staff of a pike,
To show to the world what a man should be like.
Go fetch me some clay: no, not that common stuff,
But the very best meerschaum-and fetch me enough.
I'll make eight hearty fellows, all muscle and bone,
Their average weight shall be hard on twelve stone;
With shoulders so broad, and with arms so well hung,
So lithe in the loins, and so sound in the lung;
And because I love Cambridge, my purpose is fixed, I
Will make them her crew in the year eighteen sixty."

Stand by me, dear reader, and list to my song,
As our boat round Plough-corner comes sweeping along.
I'll point out each hero, and tell you his name,
His college, his school, and his titles to fame.

No fear of a crowd; towards the end of the course
They have left all behind but a handful of horse.

To keep at their side on the gods you must call

For the wind of a tutor of Trinity Hall.

One stroke, and they're on us. Quick! Left face and double! Look hard at the bow; he is well worth the trouble.

'Tis Heathcote, the pride of First Trinity Club,
The boast of our eight, and the tale of our tub.
No Oxonian so gay but will tremble and wince
As he watches the oar of our gallant Black Prince.

Who can think on that morn without sorrow and pain
When valour proved futile, and skill was in vain ?
As they watched the light jerseys all swimming about,
The nymphs of the Thames, with a splash and a shout,
Cried, "Thanks to rude Boreas, who, wishing to please us,
Has sent to our arms Harry Chaytor of Jesus."

Next comes David Ingles, and long may he live, Adorned with each laurel our river can give.

Had the Jews seen our David but once on the throne,
They would not have thought quite so much of their own.
Deign then to accept this my humble petition,

And make me your chief and your only musician :
And so, when you've passed, as you will do with ease,
I'll sing you, my David, a Song of Degrees.

Oh, blame not the bard if at thought of his section
The blood in his temples with vanity tingles:
Who would not dare deeds worth a world's recollection
With a sergeant like Heathcote, a corporal like Ingles.

Old Admiral Blake, as from heaven he looks down, Bawls out to his messmates-"You lubberly sinners, Three cheers for my namesake! I'll bet you a crown He'll thrash the Oxonians as I thrashed the Mynheers." Here's Coventry next, but not Patmore, no, no! angel" at all, but a devil to row.

Not an 66

Should Louis Napoleon next August steam over,
With scarlet-breeched Zouaves, from Cherbourg to Dover,
We'll send him to Coventry: won't he look blue,
And wish he was back with his wife at St. Cloud?
A problem concerning the man who rows six,
Puts many high wranglers quite into a fix:
James Stirling himself, as he candidly owns,
Can't conceive how a Cherry can have thirteen stones.
But oh for the tongue of a Dizzy or Cairns,
Thou fairest and strongest of Trinity's bairns,
To tell how your fellow-collegians in vain

Of the veal and the Peter-house pudding complain,

Of the greasy old waiters, and rotten old corks,

And the horrors that lurk 'twixt the prongs of the forks. Men point to your muscles, and sinews, and thews, sir,

The wonder and envy of many a bruiser;

And say that our grumbling exceeds all belief,
So well have you thriven on Trinity beef.

But how shall I worthily celebrate you,

The hope of our colours, the joy of our crew?
Shall I sing of your pluck, or the swing of your back,
Or your fierce slashing spurt, most redoubtable Jack?
The world never saw such a captain and cargo
Since Jason pulled stroke in the good ship the Argo.
And oh, when you pass to the mansions above,
Look down on your Cambridge with pity and love!

Then, on some future day of disaster and woe,
When the wash surges high, and our fortunes are low,
When Oxford is rowing three feet to our two,

And victory frowns on the flag of light blue,
Oh, then may our captain in agony call

On the 'varsity's guardian angel, Jack Hall!

You may search the whole coast from Land's End to North Foreland, But where will you find such a steersman as Morland?

Just look at him peering, as sharp as a rat,

From under his rum little shaggy black hat.

Let all honest Cambridge men fervently pray
That our pet Harrow coxswain, for once in a way,
Though as valiant a sergeant as any we know,
On Saturday next may show back to the foe.

So at night, when the wine-cups all mantling are seen
(Whatever the mantling of wine-cups may mean),
With your temper at ease, and your muscles unstrung,
And your limbs 'neath the table right carelessly flung,
As
you press to your lips the beloved nut-brown clay,
So cruelly widowed for many a day :

Oh, then as one man may the company rise,
With joy in their hearts, and with fire in their eyes,
Pour out as much punch as would set her afloat,
And drink long and deep to our conquering boat!

March 24th, 1860.

LOCH-NA-DIOMHAIR-THE LAKE OF THE SECRET.

I.

A HIGHLAND FLIGHT.

BY GEORGE CUPPLES.

HOW WE SET OUT FOR IT-ICKERSON

AND I.

Down on the little rustic landing-pier before Inversneyd Hotel, by LochLomond edge, my friend Ickerson and I had sought a few minutes' breathingtime for private consultation in an unexpected dilemma; which, however absurd, was real. Ere many more minutes elapsed, our present refuge would be taken from us; though at that instant it was the sole spot, round the noisy falls made classical by Wordsworth, and the noisier place of entertainment for tourists, where we could hope to hear each other, or arrange our

necessary plans of departure. A sudden occurrence had just rendered that departure indispensable, nay, required that it should be immediate; if possible, without even the delay we now made; above all, without so much as re-entering the door of the hotel. Yet not only was our modest bill to be settled, and the few travelling encumbrances of one of us to be regained from the lobby-table; we had also to consider our first steps of escape, the most critical of all, and for a brief space to deliberate as to the precise track that must be taken, by now recurring to our only clue in the matter. This clue was to be found in the letter of our mutual friend, Moir from London, whom we were to join at a certain spot

which he thus indicated and described: the letter was fortunately in my possession still, and over it were we here holding council. On Ickerson's part, with the help of "a few post-jentacular inhalations," as he in his colossal manner was pleased to phrase it, "from that fragrant weed which so propitiates clearness of thought, and tends to promote equanimity in action." For me, I was too conscious of the energy our situation demanded, to share any such indulgence. The action, not the equanimity, was what our peculiar circumstances then required. As the prompt cigar to the contemplative meerschaum, so were we to each other.

"To think," broke out my companion, meditatively, "that he should have taken the same direction as ourselves-joining these snobbish pedestrians, too, at such an early hour-and without Mrs. Blythe and the other ladies, whom-”

"Whom, you may depend upon it," I interrupted with impatience, "the droskies from the Trosachs Inn will bring up behind him, in ten minutes more, luggage and all. Then, do you see that smoke yonder, through the haze on the water?" I pointed emphatically down the lake. "That is the first steamer from Balloch, of course, which will soon pour on this spot a whole mob from Glasgow-yes, Glasgow," repeated I, significantly eyeing my friend. "I now see it all! He expected Glasgow friends, don't you recollect? He expected one in particular-have you forgot whom?" And it was evident, despite Ickerson's wished-for equanimity (strictly speaking, a disposition to impromptitude in cases of action), that he began to shudder; while my own uneasiness did not prevent me from pushing the advantage thus obtained over his too lethargic nature. "Yes; it was M'Killop, whom he must have come on to meet, and to concert with as to choice of summer quarters. The moment the steamer's paddles are heard, he'll be down to welcome him-M'Killop will see us at once, even if Trellington Blythe should not-both will recognise us both be surprised-both be on

the scent. After which, all is of course lost!"

"Horrible! True. Very disagreeable and awkward, I must say," responded my friend; for once lowering that censer-like appurtenance of his, with one of his least phlegmatic or provokingly-placid expressions of countenance. "For really, after all Dr. Blythe's own openness and manifest inclination to our society, we did leave him somewhat abruptly, perhaps, at the Trosachs yesterday forenoon; without making him aware, either, of the intention, which, by the way, my dear Brown," remarked Ickerson gravely, "I did not know till you stated it just before. Much less, that Moir had described his whereabouts to you."

A mild reproach was designed, but I affected unconsciousness of it; not even smiling as I echoed this remorseful strain. "The worst of it was," I reminded him, "it might seem a base advantage to take, that we walked off on a Sabbath afternoon, when the doctor and his family were absent at kirk, as became his public character and standing. I do not understand a Gaelic service, however orthodox my turn of mind, whereas you, you know, though suspected of latitudinarian views, are quite familiar with the tongue." At this home-thrust, again did Ickerson wince: he looked uncomfortably over his shoulder to the Inversneyd Hotel, where our learned fellow-citizen and late innmate at the Trosachs was despatching breakfast, all unconscious of our abject vicinity to him: then in front, toward the growing vapour which brought M'Killop, he gazed with a dismay far more apparent.

The truth was, I had felt doubtful up to the last moment of Ickerson. Happily, Sundays do fall amongst the Trosachs, and after unintentionally encountering the Blythe party there, we had availed ourselves without much consideration of that circumstance, together with our needing no vehicles, to take far more than the proper seventh-day's journey in advance of our estimable acquaintance. I myself had inferred,

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