loved her with all her great warm Irish heart, and about three weeks after the wreck gave Charles these particulars about her, when he went to pay her a visit in the cottage behind the kennels.

After having hugged him violently, and kissed him till he laughingly refused to let her do it again till she had told him the news, she began,-"The beauty-boy, he gets handsomer every day" (this might be true, but there was great room for improvement yet), "and comes and sees his old nurse, and who loves him so well, alanna? It's little I can tell ye about the little girl, me darlin'. She's nine years old, and a heretic, like yer own darlin' self, and whose to gainsay ye from it? She's book-learned enough, and play she says she can, and I axed her would she like to live in the great house, and she said no. She liked me, and wanted to stay with me. She cries about her mother, a dear, but not so much as she did, and she's now inside and asleep. Come here, Avick."

She bent down her handsome face to Charley's ear, and whispered, "If my

boy was looking out for a little wee fairy wife, eh?"

Charley shook his hair, and laughed, and there and then told Norah all about Adelaide, which attachment Norah highly approved of, and remarked that he'd be old enough to be married before he knew where he was.

In spite of Densil's letters and inquiries, no friends came forward to claim little Mary. In a very short time Densil gave up inquiring, and then he began dreading lest she should be taken from him, for he had got wonderfully fond of the quiet, pale, bright-eyed little creature. In three months she was considered as a permanent member of the household, and the night before Charley went to school he told her of his grand passion. His lordship considered this step showed deep knowledge of the world, as it would have the effect of crushing in the bud any rash hopes which Mary might have conceived; and, having made this provision for her peace of mind, he straightway departed to Shrewsbury school.

Ir is probable that before long there will be a call for a revision of the Eton constitution. In age, wealth, prominence, and importance to the country, Eton comes next to the two universities of Oxford and Cambridge: it was to be expected, therefore, that her turn would follow theirs in the process of educational reform. And, indeed, the Cambridge Reform Commissioners were invested with powers for examining, if necessary, the case of Eton, and proceeding accordingly; but they appear only to have used this power in terrorem, to overcome the reluctance of the Eton authorities to consent to the reforms of King's College, Cambridge. Probably

bridge University to accept even a slender modicum of reform quite difficult and disagreeable enough: and had no desire for an extension of it. We have had, however, various signs, from the most different quarters, that the public mind is turned or turning to this subject. Ordinary remonstrances, with the average admixture of error and exaggeration, can often be silently crushed by the weight of influence which old, famous, and independent bodies possess; but such treatment could hardly be applied to the pamphlet of Sir J. Coleridge. That eminent old Etonian has written with a most thorough knowledge of the subject, and in a strain of af

eulogy. He has avoided every appearance of making a direct attack on Eton, -to a degree almost laughable, when he entitles his pamphlet "A Lecture on Public Schools; so that, in fact, the only fault we can find with him is, that he has tempered his judicial severity with a little too much of partial tenderness. Even thus, what he does say shows that he strongly feels the imperative need of reform.

It will be well, in discussing this question, to disconnect it entirely from the general controversy between public and private schools. The arguments for both have been frequently well put forward, and appear adapted rather to balance than to meet each other; in the case of individual boys the choice between them may often be determined by individual, circumstances; but it is almost certain that, in England, public schools will always maintain their advantage. There can be no doubt that they are a most natural outgrowth of the English mind; that they embody most characteristically that spirit which pervades our whole political and social system; and which draws from foreigners so loud a note of mingled wonder, censure, and admiration. But the general public school system is considerably modified in the case of each school by its peculiar institutions; and it will be more profitable, as well as more convenient, to discuss these separately.

The only danger lest the question should not be thoroughly examined arises from the fact, that there has been of late so much written, said, and done, about educational reform. The upper classes, the middle classes, the lower classes all have had their turns in the general sifting that the education of the country has undergone. The average mind, whose interest for the public weal is more or less largely adulterated by the desire of hearing some new thing, is beginning to get tired of the whole business, and to think that we might now let it rest awhile. It may be doubted whether we ought ever to let it rest;

tinual state of change, not as an ideal condition of our educational system, but as the best thing that we can practically get. We have by this time outgrown the presumption of imagining that we can ever make institutions for all time; and the worst evils of change are less than those that result from forcing one age to work in the harness of another. And let no one point, in the serenity of self-satisfaction, to the great and glorious results produced by any institution in former times. Such an appeal is appropriate in Cathay, but certainly not among

us.

All that now exists, all that we hold most precious, is derived from changes, against which the same appeal might have been made with equal force.

But it may be asked, Why not trust to the wisdom of the educating bodies themselves, and the indirect pressure of public opinion, to effect the necessary changes, without any direct external action? And there can be no doubt that the great improvement which has taken place, during the last thirty years, in our public schools has been effected almost entirely in the former way. But some of these bodies are so predisposed by their constitution to retain the old and refuse the new, without fairly considering the intrinsic merits of either, that they cannot be entirely trusted with the work of their own reform. A plain statement of the case will, perhaps, enable us to judge whether Eton be one of these or not.

The first fact we have to notice, which will, we think, much amaze the uninitiated, is this; that, although the Eton masters are justly considered the best paid members of their profession, the salary that each receives for his regular work in school is under 451. per annum. This is the only part of their income which is fixed; the remainder, which is derived from private pupils, is fluctuating, and, therefore, hard to estimate. As, however, it has been much exaggerated, we shall try to approximate to it. believe the income of an assistant master, who has not a boarding-house, to vary between 600l. and 9007. per annum,

We

between one and two thousand. It may happen that an old and privileged master exceeds the highest of these estimates; or a peculiarly unlucky newcomer falls below the lowest; but, on the whole, we think they will be found correct. We see, therefore, that the actual income of a master is at least twelve times that which he receives from King Henry the Sixth's. foundation; while, at the same time, the work for which he is paid 45. may be reckoned as taking up a third of his time. For this work, therefore, he is ludicrously underpaid; it follows, as a matter of course, that he must be paid very highly for the remainder. This discrepancy between the two payments is evidently in itself an evil: it must tend to produce a proportionate inferiority in the underpaid work. With a high-principled and conscientious body like the Eton masters, this tendency will, of course, be much weakened, but operate it must, to a certain extent. Again, it is desirable that a schoolmaster's income should be partially fluctuating, and influenced by competition; but that it should be liable to so great variation, from the effect perhaps of mere fancy or fortune, while his work is by no means increased or diminished in the same ratio, is unfair and unadvisable. But the worst result, to which we shall again have occasion to allude, is this; that, since the masters are thus almost entirely dependent on their pupils for support, and since each fresh pupil, while he adds 207. to their income, adds very little to their work, they are naturally inclined to take more pupils than they otherwise would, and, as we think, more than they ought.

How, then, is the money of this royal and wealthy foundation absorbed, that it pays its masters at the rate of the lowest usher in the commonest grammar school?

The answer is easy. The foundation supports, besides the masters and seventy scholars, seven fellows and a provost. The exact income of a fellow is of course known only to his fortunate self and brethren; but we may estimate it

ceives for doing a minimum of work; and it may be doubted whether this minimum might not most advantageously be dispensed with.

Let us look into the relations of this sinecurist and absorptive body; we may find that we have here a great cause of the evils of Eton, or at least a great obstacle to their removal.

The simple fact of sinecurism, without excuse, gives us a presumption against them. They form a perfect specimen of those "comfortable bodies," which our ruthless reforming age has insisted upon making uncomfortable, where it has not swept them away altogether. They are a useless relic of past ages-a remnant of the monastic life; ideally, a life of self-denying and learned seclusion, actually so often a life of luxurious and unlearned sloth. It is one of the justest praises of our own times, that we are honest, sincere, and earnest, in endeavouring to give "a fair day's wages for a fair day's work ;" and not otherwise.

It is true, that the fellowships at the universities have escaped the general destruction; but only for two weighty reasons, viz. as prizes to stimulate youth to intellectual exertions, and means for assisting it, when talented and poor, through the early unproductive years of our learned professions. The income of these fellowships, too, is comparatively small, and in most cases only sufficient to answer these two ends. It is true that these reasons do not cover the case of a bachelor retaining his fellowship through life; but here we must speak our own decided opinion-the opinion of a large and influential body at both universities that in this point the reform has not been thorough. Here, however, another strange relic of monasticism, in itself objectionable, exercises a counteracting force; and the public, while it does not compel these sinecurists to work, has at least a grim satisfaction in not allowing them to marry.

But it is said in favour of the Eton fellowships, that they are useful as retiring pensions for the masters. Let us

The simplest answer is, that retiring pensions are not needed at Eton. An Eton master begins with an income of usually about 8007. and rises to one of usually about 1,500l. a year. When we consider how much lower are the payments given to others of the same profession, of at least equal ability, who have no retiring pension to look forward to, we feel that there is no hard-heartedness in saying, that every Eton master ought to save enough to support him in his declining years. We may remember, too, that he is in a situation of peculiar advantage with respect to that which every paterfamilias feels to be the chief source of his expense and anxiety, namely, the education of his children.

But even supposing that retiring pensions of this large amount were desirable, we can easily show that the present system is very ill adapted for properly bestowing them.

In the first place, these fellowships are confined to clergymen. Now, in every school, the lay element among the masters is, or ought to be, very considerable. The necessity of this, and the evil that would result from leaving our education entirely in the hands of clergymen, is now fully recognised; and from the present course of public feeling, we may infer that it will be daily more and more felt. While we protest against the extreme view, which some hold,' that educational work is in no sense work of the ministry, and therefore a schoolmaster cannot conscientiously take orders, we think that laymen ought, as much as possible, to be encouraged to devote themselves to edu cation. And, since at present they cannot hope for any of the first places in their profession, nor look forward, as clergymen can, to other work as a relief after the fatigues of a schoolmaster's life, it is apparent that they, if any, ought to have these retiring pensions,

We are sorry to hear that Bishop Villiers refuses to ordain schoolmasters in his diocese. But the law at present allows individual bishops too much licence of private tyranny: and Lord Shaftesbury's protegés are beginning

from which they are expressly excluded. The additional evil, too, must be noticed; that this restriction of the fellowships induces men to take orders who would not otherwise do so. This result is on every account to be regretted; and that it does not exist in theory only, even among the most highprincipled body of men, any resident at either university can tell.

We have alluded to the resources possessed by clerical schoolmasters of retiring to easy parochial work. If the fellowships were done away with, these resources might be most conveniently and fully secured to the Eton. masters. The numerous livings, now in the gift of the fellows, might be offered to them in succession as they fell vacant. Under the present system they would of course be rejected with scorn by all who could look forward to a fellowship. It might naturally be supposed that the corporate body would give these livings away in its corporate capacity; as it is, they form a nice piece of patronage for the friends and relatives of the fellows, as a casual reference to the Clergy List will prove.

But there is another reason which would render the Eton fellowships a bad system for the award of retiring pensions, which also constitutes an objection against their existing at all; the fact that the fellows form a small cooperative body, with perfectly uncontrolled freedom of choice, and no subsequent tests of their election. Bodies of this kind are peculiarly liable to the temptation of choosing for other reasons than that of simple desert. The abuse we allude to has been known to creep in even at the universities, where the co-opting bodies are larger, where they distinctly profess to elect according to proficiency in learning, and where a bad choice may reflect subsequent disgrace on themselves. There is a danger of such a body being unduly influenced. by merely social reasons: there is a still greater danger of family motives making themselves felt-a greater danger, both because the abuse is worse in itself, and

influence, when admitted in one instance, is irresistible in a second, and the members become bound together in a sort of a mutual complicity in family jobbery, which the smallness of their numbers makes it easier to perpetuate. We are not drawing a picture of the existing state of things at Eton-far from it; such a charge would be most invidious, and, as far as we know, untenable; but we can have no guarantee against such things occurring there as elsewhere.

But it may be urged that the fellows actually have some slight amount of work-they administer the college revenues, and preach in chapel to the boys. This is true; but so unfortunate is their relation to the school in its present state and with its present wants, that their work is almost equally undesirable with their idleness. In the first place, being a number of old men, who have lived from boyhood within a narrow circle of traditions-as they have all proceeded from Eton to King's College, Cambridge, and back again to Eton-it may easily be conceived that they are an ultra-conservative and obstructive body. But, as the force of this general objection will not be felt by all, in order to particularize, it will be necessary to enter more fully into the constitution of the school, and allude to some of the practical complaints which have been brought against its present working.

There are at Eton about 70 collegers, or boys on the foundation, who live in the college buildings; and about 750 oppidans, i.e., boys living in dames' or masters' houses. The oppidans are, therefore, ten times as numerous as the collegers; and there is no doubt, that, in the eye of the world, they are more than ten times as important. It is they that have made Eton what it is ; it is to their class, without a single exception, that the long roll of names belongs in which an Etonian glories. Sir J. Coleridge, in his admirable lecture, has told us that oppidans were provided for in the original design of the founder. This is a new and interesting view of the subject:

regarded the collegers as the only boys belonging to the foundation, and, therefore, the true Etonians; and the oppidans as really only the private pupils of the head master.

Now the natural result of the Eton system is, that the school is under a kind of double government; of the provost and fellows on the one hand, as administrators of the college funds, and the head master on the other. This double government is not in itself an evil. Most public schools are similarly under the control of trustees or governors, who, if they are sensible men, do not clog the working of the school; they form a useful check on an imprudent head master, while they let a wise one have pretty much his own way. But the result of the peculiar constitution of Eton, and the narrow sphere in which the fellows have lived, is that they are imbued with the above-mentioned mediæval theory: and, while they are not wanting in care for the collegers, they refuse to consider themselves bound to do anything at all for the oppidans. A short-sighted and unfair policy, even on their own grounds; for the first-rate teachers, of whose instructions the collegers reap the benefit, are paid, as we have seen, chiefly by the oppidans: not to mention the enormous social advantages which the collegers derive from the fact that Eton is what it is, instead of a mere grammar school of seventy boys. But such is the policy too often pursued. For instance, there is now an imperative need of new school buildings at Eton. Various evils result from the present confined state of the school. Sir J. Coleridge has alluded to one, viz. that mathematics has now to be taught in a private building, so that an important branch of education is degraded in the eyes of the boys. The new buildings would cost at least 10,0007. Will it be believed that the fellows will only furnish a very small portion, of this sum from the funds of the foundation? so that, for the rest, recourse must be had to private subscription; that is, an appeal ad misericordiam must be made to old Etonians, or the parents of the