entertain." How unfortunate! you have never found out that the sentiments contained in the said Review have been repeatedly disavowed by the said conductors. Vide Vol. I. pp. 213, 323.

into a secret.

After all, my dear "Coll. apud Cantab. Soc.," I believe you to be our very good friend, and long to shake hands with you in the Club-room. But I must let you There are here things which we call " regular weeks," and "four exercise-weeks," which you know nothing at all about, but which we consider a great nuisance. There are also such things as weak constitutions, illnesses, &c.-but these, in common with another worthy and Rev. Gentleman (whom I could mention), you may, perhaps, call "Peregrine apologies. And you are surprised at my irregularity? Alas! alas! I have twenty excuses to make; but when I have said, "First, I am an Etonian," all charitable persons will say, "Enough-leave out the nineteen." After all, No V. was in London on the 1st of March, and you might have had it at tea.

And now, my dear Sir, I must take my leave of you. Forgive me if I have said any thing impertinent: you see that foolish inference about our sale put me into a little pet. Believe me, few persons expect much "regularity from a schoolboy. You have no idea how punctual I will be when I am "Coll. apud Cantab. Soc."

In con

clusion, allow me to assure you that I shall be happy to receive your criticisms, and loath to peruse your fears; that I am very thankful for your good-will, and very sorry for your inferences; that I have the greatest respect for your observations, and not the smallest wish for your two shillings.

I have the honour to be, &c.

PEREGRINE COURTENAY.

11.

Extract of a Letter written from Athens, in the 2d Year of the 109th Olympiad.

CHARICLES TO MENEDEMUS.

It is painful, Menedemus, to contemplate Death at a distance; it is painful only to hear of the departure of a human soul; but you cannot form an idea how dreadful a thing it is to see the dissolution of what was dear to us, to look upon the final extinction of the prospects, the wishes, the pursuits, of a being like ourselves.

Poor Crito! You remember well how kind and engaging he was; how mild to his inferiors, how obliging to his equals, how respectful to his superiors! He died, as you know, very young; and it may perhaps be foolish to dwell much upon talents whose cultivation had hardly commenced, and to anticipate the future success of qualities which had scarcely begun to expand; nevertheless it is consolatory to us to reflect, that, if manhood had been granted to him, he might have become as great in public as he was amiable in private life; he might hereafter have been as dear to Athens as he already was to us! Alas! while I paint a vision of what he might have been, I am striving to forget the certainty of what he is!

His illness was short, but painful. He bore it with exemplary fortitude, and testified throughout the greatest reluctance to give pain or apprehension to his friends. Alas! the recollection of this only avails to add poignancy to the regret which pervades the walks of Academus. Latterly, as his danger became more imminent, his friends were not allowed to see and converse with him, but he was not the less present to their hearts;their inquiries concerning him were constant and affec

tionate; the mirth which is natural to youth was pensive and restrained; they avoided causing the slightest sound, and walked softly by the threshold of the sufferer.

At last all expectation, all hope, of his recovery expired. We were informed of his situation, and admitted to the room where he lay. Oh! Menedemus! if you had witnessed with me that feverish countenance, those vain efforts to express by words some wish that we could not hear or gratify, and, last of all, the faint struggles of departing animation,-you would not be surprised when say, that more wisdom is to be learned from the contemplation of a death-bed than from the precepts of another Socrates.

I

He endeavoured to take leave of us, and he could not speak; we spoke to him, and he could not hear; he strove to look round upon those who wept about him, and agony had weighed down his eyelids; his sister was sitting by his bedside, and he was unconscious of her presence: every faculty of his mind, every nerve of his body, seemed to be powerless; he was awake to no sensation but that of pain. As we gazed upon his face, dark and clammy with fever,--as we beheld his motionless and emaciated hand, his closed eyes, his distorted lips;-what dreadful ideas came over us! We felt that Death was in the chamber, and looked round upon each other, as if doubting which of us was to be the next victim of the destroying power! Oh! my friend, if, as Plato has taught us, the soul is really immortal; if, in bliss or in woe, it survives the frail vesture of clay in which it is shrouded, how cautious should we be in every moment of our lives; how carefully should we regulate our actions; how closely should we scrutinize our thoughts!

Cleon, who was standing next to me, touched my gown: I turned round to him. He whispered to me, "Now he is dying!" I looked back to the couch with a feeling of chilly stupor which I cannot attempt to de

66

scribe: Aspasia was leaning over her brother, and kissing his cold lips. Suddenly she arose :-" I have drank his last breath!" she said hysterically, and fell into the arms of her husband. In a moment the features of the youth lost all appearance of pain or distortion: they resumed their usual mildness of expression; they lay composed in the beautiful serenity of death.

Poor Crito! his memory will long be treasured up in the hearts of those who loved him; his virtues are often the subject of conversation among us: some of us preserve with the fondest assiduity the little presents which they may have received from him; others have locks of his hair entwined in rings and lockets. Plato, whose pupil he was, has written some beautiful poetry, to be inscribed upon his tomb.

ON THE PROPOSED ESTABLISHMENT OF A PUBLIC LIBRARY AT ETON.

WE are very glad to be able to announce, that, after the Easter Holidays, a Public Library for the use of the School will be established by Subscription, at Mr. Williams's. We are very glad of it, not for our own sake, for before it shall rise to any degree of importance, we shall be inhabitants of this spot no longer; our very names will be forgotten among its more recent inmates. But we hail with joy this Institution, for the sake of the School we love and reverence, to which we hope it will prove, at some future period, a valuable addition.

The plan admits of 100 Subscribers; viz. the 100 Senior Members of the School. If any of these decline to become Members, the option will descend to the next in

gradation. The Subscription for the first year will be 10s. 6d. after the Easter, Election, and Christmas Holidays; in future 10s. 6d. will be paid after the two latter Vacations only. The Library will consist of the Classics, History, &c.; and Subscribers will be allowed, under certain regulations, to take books from the room. Of

course a thing of this kind has not been set on foot without the concurrence of the Higher Powers; and the Head Master has assisted the promoters of it by his approbation, as well as by liberality of another description. We trust that Eton will not long continue to experience the want of an advantage which many other Public Schools enjoy.

We had intended to send the foregoing loose remarks to press, in order to request as many of our schoolfellows in the Upper Division, as are willing to become Subscribers, to leave their names with Mr. Williams, at whose house the Library will be established. But as we were preparing to send off the manuscript, an old gentleman, for whom we have a great respect, called in, and looked over our shoulder. He then took a chair, and observed to us, 66 This will never do!" He took off his spectacles-wiped them, put them on again, and repeated" This will never do!"

"I, Sir, was an Etonian in the year 17-, and, being a bit of a speculator in those days, had a mind to do what you are now dreaming of doing. I addressed myself forthwith to various friends, all of them distinguished for rank, or talent, or influence, among their companions. I began with Sir Roger Gandy, expatiated on the sad want of books which many experienced, and asked whether he did not think a Public Library would be a very fine thing? A circulating one,' he said, 'Oh yes! very !' -and he yawned. There was taste!

"The next to whom I made application, was Tom Luny, the fat son of a fat merchant on Ludgate-Hill. Poor Tom! he died last week, by-the-by, of a surfeit.