be classed with the tribe of light writers and shallow thinkers? We have heard the study of the classics objected to on the ground that the advantage gained was not commensurate with the labour bestowed. We have known young ladies exceedingly angry with brothers for poring over those musty old books that nobody can understand; but this is certainly the first time that we ever heard them charged with being superficial. If there is no solidity in a knowledge of Latin and Greek, we shalldespair of finding it anywhere.

We now come to an observation which we are surprised that a person of Mr. Bulwer's discrimination should have been tempted to make; namely, that a knowledge of the English language and acquaintance with English authors is neglected. If we were desired to point out the branch of knowledge that a person could least fail of obtaining at a public school, we should unhesitatingly say a thorough and complete acquaintance with his mother tongue. Every one who has the least pretension to scholarship must be aware that to render the spirit of nearly any author of antiquity requires an almost unlimited command over the stores of the English language and the niceties of its idioms.

Habitual translation, then, of classic authors, combined with exercises in English writing of all sorts and characters, from the historical abstract to the moral essay, cannot fail to give facility of expression, and to teach the mechanical part at least of composition. The best authors in divinity and history are required to be read, and every facility of access given to writers of imagination. Those who have taste and poetical feeling will find no difficulty in gratifying them; and to those who have not, the compulsory reading of the finest works in the world. would bring no advantage.

The next objection, that Divinity is not taught, is almost equally unfounded. It is a study to which the greatest importance is attached, and which is most particularly insisted upon. It is well known that at the Universities the greatest stress is laid upon it, and the least weakness in it materially diminishes a person's chance of honours. Now as nine tenths of the men who take honours are from the public schools, it is but fair to conclude that they are well grounded in theological learning at these institutions.

The charges that Latin and Greek are superficially taught are a mere assertion. Take a public-school man and one educated by a private tutor in the way Mr. Bulwer so much admires, and put them on in an author which neither had read, and we would stake our existence on the public-school man.

We have in these remarks confined ourselves entirely to Classics, because Mathematics, though they are now generally and almost universally taught and insisted on, were till within a few years disgracefully neglected,

And now, having said thus much on our system of education, we beg leave to make a few remarks on our social constitution.

Much pseudo-philanthropy and sensibility has been wasted on the system of Fagging. The fact is, if anybody will but dispassionately consider the subject, he will see that fagging (or at least the thing, call it by what name you please,) must exist in any large collection of boys. At a large school there is exactly the same dependence of the younger on the elder, that there is of the subordinate to the superior rank in the world at large. But in the present instance there is this distinguishing feature, that the aristocracy of a Public School is actually superior in age, power of mind, and acquirements, to the democracy it

H

controls. Not the most fanatic advocate of the rights of man can deny that the youth just entering on the verge of manhood, has a real moral ascendancy over the little urchin only just emancipated from the nursery. The younger is anxious to obtain the protection of some one to defend him from oppression and help him in his difficulties; the patron, on the other hand, requires certain services, at the worst irksome, and generally rather sought than avoided by those who perform them. Such being the natural connexion between the two orders, it is manifestly much to the interest of both parties, that the authority of the one over the other should be recognised and defined by the heads of the school. The fag obeys cheerfully, without feeling that sense of hardship and injustice, which is so bitter to a boy of high spirit; the master is not obliged to use violence to enforce submission. All bodies whose rights are not distinctly defined are invariably the most tenacious of what they conceive to be their privileges, and the most oppressive and exacting towards their inferiors. In support of which it may be observed, (and this is a fact which we defy our adversaries to gainsay,) that wherever fagging has been discountenanced and forbidden by the masters of any Public School, bullying, tyranny, and oppression have increased tenfold.

A boy entering into a Public School will always find equals, generally superiors; he will learn the duty of subordination, and the necessity of discretion and selfdependence to save him from ridicule and mortification. He is no longer the petted darling of his parents, but becomes a unit of a community, and for the first time learns his real and actual importance. He now finds that he must curb his tongue and his passions, or suffer for their licence; he must conform to public opinion,

which there, in its narrow sphere, exerts as powerful an influence as society does over its maturer members. Now it is this public opinion that forms the peculiar characteristic of a Public School, and is not and cannot be understood by any who have not had practical experience of its operations. Public-school spirit is a thing of itself, separate and distinct from any other code of morals whatever it is based on the principles of honour; its distinguishing feature is a horror of anything low. It certainly allows some little latitude, and occasionally leads to results not exactly consonant with stricter ethics; but this generally arises from an instinctive abhorrence of anything approaching to cant. It is a broad and expansive principle; and if it does sometimes applaud where daring and courage or great talent has been displayed, when perhaps severer moralists might condemn both end and means together, still it does tend to elevate the mind and inspire it with an ambition for what is noble. Above all, it forms the character of the English gentleman. We do not mean to set up this spirit as an infallible standard of right; we do not mean to deny that, like the chivalric feeling of old, it has its faults; but we do say, that with all its faults (and we had almost said for its faults) we admire it, we love it. And we say this the more-because we fear that utilitarianism will soon quench every spark of poetical feeling, and bind down every free and high thought to its hard, dry, mathematical rules.

We hope these remarks will not be considered to have been written in a narrow or cavilling spirit. Experiencing as we do the advantages of education, it would be wrong indeed if we were not anxious to promote its diffusion in whatever form. But while we drink "Success to Knowledge!" we must be permitted to add, "Confusion to Cant!"

THE MOTHER'S FAREWELL TO HER SON GOING

TO BATTLE.

AWAY, away, my best belov'd! I would not have thee stay, When Honour calls thee forth to tread her bright yet dang❜rous

way.

Away, away! I could not bear to think that love for me One moment kept thee from the post where duty bids thee be.

Thou art marching to the battle-field, my beautiful! my brave! And thy mother's bursting heart forbodes, that it will be thy grave.

Yet

go, unfurl our house's ancient banner to the wind, And take with thee the tears and pray'rs of those thou leav'st behind.

Farewell to thee, my best belov'd! we ne'er shall meet again, Except it be when thou art stretch'd among the bloody slain: Thy father's shade will smile on thee, if thou should'st nobly die, But proudly will he spurn thee, boy, if thy back is turn'd to fly!

Go, go! thy noble sire was brave! Go! emulate his fame! Bethink thee that thy race hath borne an aye-unblemish'd name. Still be that name upheld by thee: thou wear'st thy father's sword,

Unsheath it now, and through the ranks give forth thy battleword!

Farewell! and ere tomorrow's dawn, when far away thou'lt be, Full many an anxious vow, my son, shall rise to heav'n for thee. Oh! could thy mother's pray'rs defend, how strong would be thy shield!

The god of battles guard my child!—Now forward to the field!" N.