He then informs the reader that Astronomy is not among his acquirements, and laments his backwardness in scientific studies; makes good resolutions for the future; and (as is natural after making good resolutions) falls asleep. The following is his last yawn :

"And so good night!-If I've been dull and prosy,

6

My Evening,'-like most Winter Evenings, will

Lull you to gentle sleep, and make you dozy;
And as by this you must have had your fill,
I say no more.—Soon sinking in repose I

Shall dream of Muses and Parnassus ;-still
Believe me, ere I slumber, I shall sweeten
My last reflection with a thought on Eton."

I have received during the last month several applications from Ladies, who wish to be informed when the King of Clubs intends to hold his next Drawing-Room. Such a numerous attendance has been promised, that the size of the Club-room would be quite inadequate to the purpose; and, as the Mayor will not grant the use of the Town-Hall, no more Drawing-Rooms can be held! If his Majesty were smothered (I shudder at the idea!) what would become of "The Etonian?"

March 4.-Received various criticisms on No. V. Really the extraordinary penetration of our kind Commentators amuses me exceedingly. If an author favours us with two or three Articles, the censure inflicted upon one is usually balanced by the blarney lavished upon the other. Here are two papers by the same hand! The author of one is pronounced a promising writer; the author of the other is denominated "a millstone round our necks!" With reference to his first contribution, the poor fellow is void of all talent for dialogue, plot, or grouping! Upon the subject of the second, the gentleman who is so lamentably deficient in the above requisites, is recommended to try his hand at Dramatic Sketches. These are the little bits of absurdity which make anonymous writing so delightful; these are the little incidents, which, by the laughter they produce, make the life of an Editor just endurable!

March 7.-Dined out. Mr.Truffles discovered a strong resemblance between me and Alexander the Great! After I had sat in astonishment some time, I discovered that he alluded to Lady Vanhooven's fat pug-dog.

ནད་

March 15.-Received various compositions bearing the signature M. H. I return my best thanks to the author for his kind disposition towards us, and assure him that I would gladly have inserted his favours if I thought that any of them were calculated to do credit either to "The Etonian," or to M. H.

March 17.-Received a splendid piece of criticism! This is indeed an article! "The March to Moscow" marches to press

as fast as my Mercury can carry it. Why do we talk about the learned of olden time? the Commentators upon Poets, and the Commentators upon Commentators? Let them look from the Shades upon "The March to Moscow," and "hide their diminished heads!"-Longinus and Toupius, put together, never wrote any thing like this!

March 21.-Patrick O'Connor had a letter this morning from his uncle, the Captain, containing an account of an occurrence far too important to be passed over. The Captain narrates his visit to General Bonaparte, at St. Helena. The General seemed in good spirits, and was very jocose. After discussing the usual topics, such as, the opinion entertained of him in England, state of affairs in Europe, &c. he became very curious about the periodical literature of Great Britain. He said " he understood that one of our Magazines had represented him as promising to become a Contributor; but this was false; people would not cease telling lies of him yet." In conclusion, he was very desirous to see a specimen of English Magazinery. The Captain had our first Number in his pocket; it was produced-examined. The Ex-Emperor looked a long while at his Majesty of Clubs on the wrapper; at last he said, " Quelle friponnerie!"-The Captain is of opinion that he was thinking of his own crown and sceptre and St. Cloud-but I think no such thing.

After much inquisitiveness on the part of Napoleon, and much embarrassment on the part of the Captain, the former signified his intention of sending an Article of four or five pages every now and then, if the Ministers of the King of Clubs and the King of England would give him leave. His informant observed, that Politics could not be admitted. "Ah ha!" said the Querist, " and do you think I can write nothing but Politics? Speak for me (turning to Madame Bertrand), do I not write delightful Sonnets?" 66 "Sire," said Montholon, "let us hope you will soon have something better to do." "C'est selon!" said Bonaparte, significantly.

March 22.-From a long Poem on Dogs, which I do not much admire, I extract the following lines on Munito, with whom many of our readers are, doubtless, well acquainted. I acquai had a great mind to make no Extract at all, for I am rather piqued that the author has talked about Kings, and Queens, and Pam, without introducing a compliment.

"Though great Spadille, or that fam'd prince of Loo,
All-conqu❜ring Pam, turn backward from his view,
Swift in the noble chace, Munito tracks

The Royal Guests amid Plebeian packs:

And though the cards in mix'd confusion lie,
And mock the vigour of an human eye,

L

Munito still, with more than magic art,

Knows Kings from Knaves, the Diamond from the Heart!
Happy were men, if thus in graver things,

Our Knaves were always parted from our Kings!
Happy the maid, who in Love's maze can part
The Miser's Diamond from the Lover's Heart!"

Corrected the proof of "Tancred and Sigismunda,” and had it struck off for No. VII.

Sent "The Serenade" to Press.

Our readers will excuse a few trifling inaccuracies of rhyme, &c. I need not bring to their recollection

-“ Ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis

Offendar maculis.”

Whist in the Evening. Held his Majesty nearly every deal, and won accordingly.

I

March 24-Read over several little compositions by I. I. G. am sorry that it is not in my power to avail myself of his kindness in such a degree as I could wish; but, as we allow 20 pages only to Old Etonians, we are obliged to be very choice in the selection. The following, I think, is as good a specimen as I can select:

STANZAS FOR MUSIC.

“Go, tuneful bird, and quickly pass,

To wake my Emma's eyes from sleep;
Go tell her that there are, alas !
Some eyes that only wake to weep.

Go tell her that there are on earth
Some hearts that only wake to sigh;
And when the morn renews her birth,
Some souls that only long to die."

Received the following lines " to the Rainbow," by R. S. By the bye, we intended to have assured him, before this, that the jest about "bamming" was only inserted for the purpose of calling attention to some very pretty lines, and at the same time giving a colour to the singularity of their style.

TO THE RAINBOW.

"Gentle Sylph of the Storm, who reposest above,
While the thunders around thee rattle;
As a Virgin that hangs on the neck of her love,
'Mid the reckless approach of the battle;

For protection and rest, 'mid aërial war,
Could I fly to thy soothing embrace;
I should find what appeared so lovely afar,
But in tears and illusion to cease.

So 'mid sorrows of earth, tho' festivity smile,
As an Heaven-sent comforter luring;
Its embrace is delusion, its loveliness guile,
When attained nought but danger ensuring.

Fare thee well! 'Mid affliction to him while I bow,
Who thy form a love-token hath given;

I'll remember that hope and repose are, as now,
Never found save in Patience and Heaven."

March 25.-Went to the Devil in a high wind.

March 26.-Corrected the proof of "Le Blanc on Interest." An article on the subject was promised, if I recollect right, by Mr. Burton. I cannot imagine what made him relinquish a topic so suited to his taste and studies.

Received some Stanzas from F. J. He must excuse some possible delay in their insertion, as the limits, which we allow to foreign contributions, are hardly wide enough for the favours we

receive.

I have received a letter, signed "A Friend at Westminster," which I shall answer in this place :

SIR,-I am obliged to our Westminster readers for the interest they take in "The Etonian," and beg leave to assure them that the professions we have made are no puff, but that 60 pages of every number are bonâ fide the production of Etonians of the present day. Moreover, I believe that no Publication has been carried on at Eton, which has not admitted foreign assistance.

I am, Sir,

Yours, &c.,

PEREGRINE COURTENAY.

March 27.-Having a vacant page, I will fill it with another little composition by my poor friend:--

"A Flower, in Nature's fairest dress,
Bloom'd on its parent tree;

Brightly it blush'd in loveliness
That blush was not for me!

Oh! not for me, right well I knew ;
And yet I watch'd it where it grew,
Fondly and fearfully,

And often from my heart I prayed
That gentle Flower might never fade.

I could have borne to see it bloom
By other hands carest,

Giving its blossoms and perfume
To deck another's breast;
And when that Flower, in future days,
Had met my melancholy gaze,

Still living and still blest,

I should have spoke a calmer tone,
And made its happiness my own.

But thus to find it hurl'd away

By him to whom it clung,

To watch it withering day by day,
So beautiful and young!
To see it dying, yet repress
The agony of tenderness

That lingers on the tongue!-
Alas! and doth it come to this,
Mary! thy cherish'd dream of bliss!
Gone is the colour from thy cheek,
The lustre from thine eye;
Thy brow is cold-thy step is weak,
Thy beauty passeth by!

In ignorance supremely blest,
Thy child is slumbering on thy breast,
And feels not," she will die!"
Alas! alas!-I know not how
I speak of this so coldly now!
I love to muse on thee by night!
And, while my bosom aches,
There is a something of delight
In thinking why it breaks;
Therefore doth Reason come in vain ;-
I doat on this consuming pain,
Cling to the wounds it makes,
Talk-dream of it, and find relief
E'en in the bitterness of grief.
Where are ye now, ye coldly wise,
Who bid the passions sleep,

Who scorn the mourner when he sighs,
And call it crime to weep?

Yours is the lifelessness of life!-
I will not change this inward strife
For all your precepts deep,
Nor lose, in my departing years,

The pain-the bliss-the throb of tears!

E. M.

March 28.-At the Printing-Office. Mr. M'Kechnie (a very worthy Gentleman, and a particular friend of mine,) asked for what day No. VII. should be announced? If I do not remember, I am afraid my Readers will, that No. IV. (our last Holiday Number) was not out altogether so soon as it ought to have been. Now the Holidays are again coming, and I am afraid of making promises.

Shakspeare, as somebody has before observed in the course of this Number, has said "tell truth, and shame the Devil! In the present instance I fear one might say with greater propriety," tell lies, and shame the Devil." However that the Devil may never again have to blush for the lies of Peregrine Courtenay, I will make a safe promise-Yes! I pledge myself

that

No. VII. shall be published on the first of May-if possible.