THE ETONIAN. No. X. The King of Clubs. ABDICATION OF HIS MAJESTY. WE, Peregrine, by our own Choice and the Public Favour, King of Clubs, and Editor of The Etonian, in the Ninth Month of our Keign, being this Day in possession of our full and unimpaired Faculties both of Mind and Body, do, by these Presents, address Ourselves to all our Loving Subjects, whether holding Place and Profit under us, or not. Inasmuch as we are sensible, that we must shortly be removed from this state of trial, and translated to another Life, leaving behind us all the Trappings of Koyalty, all the Duties of Government, all the Concerns of this condition of Being, it does seem good to Us, before we are withdrawn from the eyes of our dearly-beloved Friends and Subjects, to Abdicate and Divest Ourselves of all the Ensigns of Power and Authority which we have hitherto borne; and We do Hereby willingly Abdicate and Divest Ourselves of the same. And be it, by all whom it may concern, Kemembered, That the Cares and Labours of Peregrine, sometime KING OF CLUBS, are henceforth directed to another World; And that if any One shall assume the Sceptre and the Style of PEREGRINE, the First King of Clubs, such Person is a Liar, and Usurper. Howbeit, if it shall please Our Trusty Subjects and Counsellors to set upon our Throne a rightful and legitimate Successor, IME WILL that the Allegiance of Onr People be transferred to Him; And that He be accounted Supreme over Serious and Comic, Verse and Prose; And that the Treasury of Our Kingdom, with all that it shall at such time contain, Song, and Sonnet, and Epigram, and Epic, and Descriptions, and Non-descripts, shall be made over forthwith to his charge and keeping. And for all Acts, and Writings, made and done during the period of our Reign, To Wit, from The Twentieth Day of October, Anno Domini Eighteen Hundred and Twenty, to the Twenty-Eighth Day of July, Eighteen Hundred and Twenty-One, inclusive, WE commit them to the Memory of Men, for the Entertainment of our Friends and the Instruction of Posterity. Further, I any One shall take upon Himself the Office of commenting upon any of the Beeds and Transactions which have taken place under our Administration, whether such comment shall go forth in plain Brab, or in gaudier Saffron and Blue, We recommend to such Person charity and forbearance; and in their spirit, let him say forth his say. And be it hereby known, Chat for all that has been said or done against Us, during the above-mentioned Period, whether by Open Hostility or Secret Dislike, We do this ́ Day publish a general and a hearty AMNESTY: And We Will that all such Offences be from henceforth committed to Oblivion, and that no Person shall presume to recall to Our Recollection such Sins and Treasons. And we also entreat, that if, in the course of a long and arduous Administration, it has been our lot, to inflict wounds in self-defence, or to wound, unknowingly, those who were unconnected with us, the Forgiveness which we extend to Others will be extended by Others to Us. And we Bo, from This Bay, release from all Bond, Buty, and Obligation, Those who have assisted us by their Counsel and Support; leaving it to all such Persons to transfer their services to any other Master, as seemeth to them best. We Decree Chat our Punchbowl be henceforth consecrated to Our lonely Hours, and our pleasant Recollections; that no one do henceforth apply his Lips to its Margin; and that all future Potentates in this State of Eton, do submit to assemble their Privy Council around a Coffee-pot or an Urn. And we most earnestly recommend to those dear Friends, whom We must perforce leave behind Us, That, in all places and conditions, they continue to perform their Buties in a Worshipful Manner, always endeavouring to be a credit to the Prince, whom they have so long honoured by their service. 心 凄 And now, as our predecessor, Charles of Germany, in the meridian of his glory, laid down the Reins of Empire, exchanging the court for the cloister, and the crown for the cowl,---Eben so do We, PEREGRINE OF CLUBS, lay down the pen and the paper, exchanging celebrity for obscurity, punch for algebra, the Printing-office for Trinity College. And we entreat all those who have onr welfare at heart, to remember Us sometimes in their Orisons. And so We depart. T On Etonian Poets. "Multa poëtarum veniet manus, auxilio quæ HORACE. In the last few days of my existence at Eton, when I am upon the point of closing a work in which my Contributors, my powerful and kind Contributors, have ensured to me a success almost unexampled in the Annals of Etonian Literature, it is natural for me to reflect upon the glories of the place I am leaving, and to look with a feeling of veneration upon those who have exalted the reputation of that Temple, of which I have been an earnest, though, perhaps, an unprofitable, servant. We live, as everybody knows, in an Age of Poetry, when everybody writes rhymes, that can; and everybody reads them, that will" Scribimus indocti doctique!" From the romantic" Oscar," to the homely " Able Seaman;" from the Fashionables of the Row, to the Prentice-boys of Manchester,-all are, or, to speak more correctly, all would be, Poets. Well does our Eton maintain her character in this terrible inundation! It is quite comfortable to hear the echo of those Great Names, whose talents it was hers to cultivate. It is the fashion, I know, to look back to other days with exaggerated admiration, and to believe that the reputation of modern times falls short of the reputation of our Forefathers. But for myself, when I think on the Etonians who already live in the praises of their generation; when I think too on those, who are now just bursting into celebrity, and making trial of the wings which are hereafter to carry them to immortality, I feel, and I will not doubt the dictates of that Feeling, that this day is a proud day for Eton. What, my Friends! have we not Milman, realizing in his Meridian the Predictions which were made in his Dawn? Bright as his Genius is, it derives an additional splendor from the cause of righteousness to which it is devoted, the only cause which is worthy of its exertion! We turn from the Zelicas and Zuleikas of a perverted taste to the mild and delicate purity of Miriam, with the same feeling with which we quit the sighing and sobbing Heroines of the Radcliffe Romance for the meek and long-suffering Rebecca of our Scottish Fabulist. Not for a world of Turbans and Tiaras would I lose either of those gentle images! The sorrow in which they are involved, throws a beautiful Halo around them; and the virtue, with which they endure it, sanctifies the feeling of compassion which they excite. Genius only is sufficient for the delineation of passions, and their causes,-for the narration of crimes or quarrels; but something more than Genius is required from an Author who would take his theme from the fount of Scripture, and erect his Edifice on the Foundation of Holy Writ. The thoughts which one cannot but connect with the mention of "The Fall of Jerusalem," made it an awful thing for a Writer to attempt the painting of such an event. Not to to have failed, in such an effort, is much; to have succeeded is more ;-but such a success!-Alas! I wish my admiration were as valuable as it is warm! Shall I turn to Shelley?—Yes!-No!-Yes!-I wish that such a mind had not ranked itself among those depraved Spirits, who make it doubtful whether we should more admire their powers, or lament and condemn the abuse of them!-that he had rested contented with the admiration, without extorting the censure, of mankind. He is one of the many whom we cannot read without wonder, or without pain when I consider his powers of mind, I am proud that he was an Etonian; when I remember their perversion, I wish he had never been one. However, he has made his election; and where Justice cannot approve, Charity can at least be silent! Then there is Gally Knight, one of us!-I shall say nothing of him, however, inasmuch as I know nothing of him except through the medium of Reviews. And there is Chauncey Hare Townsend; but neither of him shall I say anything, because one of our Correspondents, in our present Number, has done justice to his merits. Reader! did you ever, on a fine Evening in August, get up from a Table, where Arguments and Wines have been discussed together for three hours, and fling yourself into the open Air, beneath a clear Sky and an unveiled Moon? Did you ever at the latter end of the season in Town withdraw yourself from a crowded Assembly, where half the company are talking, and half endeavouring to talk, in order to enjoy an hour's chat with a party of dear Friends? Did you ever-but I will not multiply interrogatives; in short, do you know what it is to escape from glare and excitement to calmness and repose- from weariness or revelry to silence and reflection? If you do, you may form an idea of the feelings with which I yesterday laid down" the Cenci," by P. B. Shelley, and took up "Childhood," by E. T. S. Hornby I shall say a few words upon it, because I think that it is not yet so well known among our schoolfellows as its subject and its merits entitle it to be. Those who expect to find in "Childhood" any overwrought description, any overworked characters, any decorating of Vice, any excusing of Voluptuousness, will be mistaken, and will deserve to be. But he who holds dear the untainted affections of the heart, and sets their proper value upon genuine and virtuous feelings, will find those affections and those feelings beautifully conceived, and elegantly expressed in these few pages. To our schoolfellows, however, the Poem has an additional interest, since no inconsiderable part of it consists of a delineation of those scenes and those pleasures which we have the good fortune to enjoy. "We!" did I say? Alas! when these Lines shall meet the public eye, the writer of them will be on the Eve of retiring from the Friends he addresses. Those scenes, however, will be always dear to him; and even, if it were possible for him to forget them, Mr. Hornby's Descriptions would be delightful and neverfailing Remembrancers. I should like to give my Readers an Extract, but I am at a loss where to make my selection. Shall I take the Picture of the Private School, the Entrance there, and the impatience which subsequently arises for something more great and manly? or shall I take the animated Sketch of the Playing-fields, or the Description of our Amusements on the Water, or the Lines on that dear haunt of our Musings, the "Poets' Walk?" I will open the Book at Random, and trust that my Readers will soon be familiar with the whole. "Far diff'rent scenes attract that motley brood, That shoots athwart the stream!-where every hand Each breast is glee!-for Labour's wholesome toil To toil untir'd while others feebly rest, To own no stiff'ning arm, no lab'ring chest, |