Our SCHOOL TIMES has a continued article on "Our Endowed Classical Schools," a Latin translation from "The Lotos Eaters," and a short novelette-"A Tale of the Twelfth Century." The NORVICENSIAN seems to have been successful in Football and Boating. It has also a notice of the coming Midsummer Examination, and letters from the School Correspondents at Oxford and Cambridge. The HURST-JOHNIAN contains the Junior Campion Prize Essay, an article on Missions, and some good poetry. The BLOXHAMIST gives a review of a successful Football season, some very useful "Hints on Athletics," and an amusing sketch by "Silver-Ring." The MALVERNIAN has the usual record of Football matches, a very readable imitation of 'Hiawatha,' and an Indian letter. The TONBRIDGIAN includes a good many translations, several letters, and an interesting account of a "Trip to Norway." The READING SCHOOL MAGAZINE "A Ramble through Skye" is the most notable thing in this month's issue. The "Oxford Sketches" are well worth reading. The HAILEYBURIAN has this month several good original poems, notes on the Christmas Entertainment, and articles on the Literary and Natural Science Societies. The most noticeable feature is a letter on Blake, which gives in full his beautiful poem "On Another's Sorrow." TAGS:-(From Sydney Smith. Wit.-A man of small understanding is merry where he can, not where he should. Lightning must, I think, be the wit of heaven. Samaritanism.-Yes! you find people ready enough to do the Samaritan without the oil and twopence. Episcopal Flirting.-How can a Bishop flirt? The most he can say is, "I will see you in the Vestry after Service." Desolation.-Harrowgate is the most heaven-forgotten Country under the Sun. When I saw it, there were only nine mangy fir trees there; and even they all leaned away from it. Artistic Innocence.-Sir G. Beaumont standing before a picture at Bowood, exclaimed, turning to me "Immense breadth of light and shade"! I innocently replied, "Yes: about an inch and a half." He gave me a look that ought to have killed me. Rejected Addresses.-"Why are you doing that?" said Sydney Smith to a child who was stroking the shell of a turtle. "Oh, to please the turtle." "Why, child, you might as well stroke the dome of St. Paul's to please the Dean and Chapter." Awful Fate.-The Dean of death by wild curates. deserves to be preached to Alter et idem.-What two ideas are more inseparable than Beer and Britannia? Congruity in Fiction.-Nobody should suffer his hero to have a black eye or to be pulled by the nose. The Iliad would never have come down to these times, if Agamemnon had given Achilles a box on the ear. We should have trembled for the Æneid, if any Tyrian nobleman had kicked the pious Æneas in the 4th book. Æneas may have deserved it; but he could not have founded the Roman Empire after so distressing an accident. From ULYSSES.' ULGESCUNT alto tremulæ de vertice luces : FULGESCIUNT diés, segnis conscendere luna Incipit, et crebrâ pelagus fremit undique voce. IN reglas del arte S Borriquitos hai Que una vez aciertan A FOOL in spite of nature's bent. May shine for once-by accident. F.H. (From Yriarte.) CAMBRIDGE SKETCHES. No. II. "THE 'VARSITY EIGHT." "His edura cutis, nec ligno rasile tergum: C.S.C. Carm. Sæc. Once more is the "Blue Fever" rampant through the land. Once more are the very latest weights and doings of 16 pet youths paraded day after day in the papers, till we grow sick or callous with premature excitement. Yet once again does the "Saturday Reviler" raise its annual howl against this morbid delirium, which its own contemporaries spare no pains to feed and disseminate. Notwithstanding, these lions of the hour are animals sadly misunderstood: the story of their cub-hood has yet to be written until their splendid maturity can be duly appreciated. Plato tells us the soul must needs pass through nine refining processes, ere it be permitted to catch a glimpse of the Divine Essence. With greater certainty can we assert that there are nine crucial tests to be applied to an aspiring oar, before he be deemed worthy to represent his University at Putney. Although there is no regulation height or width of chest, yet he who would rise from the ranks must possess an inexhaustible fund of the rare Triplet, viz.: Strength, Constitution, and Pluck. Even two of these qualities, when found together, are useless without the third; the would-be 'Varsity Oar' must boast the three-legged motto: "Quocunque jeceris stabit." Conspicuous among the Schools which annually feed the Universities with embryo talent, are Eton, Radley, Shrewsbury and Bedford; and Freshmen from these Rowing Seminaries are eagerly snapped up by Boat-Captains when forming their crews for the Lent Races. There the raw recruit undergoes his "Baptism of Fire": should he be pronounced 'good enough,' he is promoted to a place in one of his College Upper Boats in the following May Races: whereas, if on the latter occasion, some lurking flaw be detected, all hopes of his gaining the "Blue Ribbon" are thus early dashed to the ground. Granted, however, no such calamity has befallen him, how does he lift himself from the ruck? During the October Term, the four best Oars of each College are chosen as its champions in an InterCollegiate Race, and should he be selected he catches perhaps for the first time the eagle eye of the President, who ever on the alert for fresh material, "As careful robins eye the delver's toil," may be seen riding alongside the boats during practice, seated on a curious relic of bye-gone "Coaching" days, yclept the "Varsity Nag." If we may dare to anticipate Presidential criticism, he will receive shortly afterwards the much-prized request to attend Searle's Boat House, at 2-30 p.m., where he will undergo at the hands of a duly qualified veteran half-an-hour's "tubbing," preparatory to taking an oar in an "eight" with a tiny light-blue flag fluttering at its bow. Now is he sailing, for the first time, under the colours of his University, which may yet prove false ones, unless satisfaction to his employers be given. If all goes well, this ceremony is repeated every afternoon until he becomes a "fixture" in one of the "Trial Eights," two of which are formed every year, destined to compete on a murky afternoon in December, over a 24 mile course at Ely. One month's training is now before him, and each day during practice he is exposed to the searching glance of the President, so that the slightest flaw is certain of detection, do what the unhappy victim may. Again, even if he prove a success thus far, what other Herculean labour lies before him, ere he win the immortal blue Ribbon of the River, viz. a place in the "Varsity"? First, there are usually but two or three vacant thwarts to fill: secondly, his weight or the side on which he rows may stand in his way: thirdly, there are sure to be three or four as likely candidates as himself. Thus "the right man in the right time and place" is a phenomenon rarely witnessed in a struggle for the Blest Abode of Aquatic heroes which in good truth "novies styx interfusa coercet." Ash-Wednesday ushers in the Lenten Penance, or strict Training of the two 'Varsity Crews; a process sadly misunderstood by those to whom it suggests nothing save raw beef-steaks and total abstinence from grease and liquors. The following resembles somewhat the real Order for the Day,— 7 a.m. 7.30 9.30, II I p.m. Turn out and Tub. Morning Stroll. Breakfast: Chops or Steaks, Watercress, Cold Toast, Stroll No. 2: One Solitary Matutinal Pipe. Lunch: One Glass of Port or Beer, Biscuits and Butter. 3-5.30 Practice in the "Eight": Long Course Twice a week. 6 7-9,, 10.30 mange; Fruit: One Pint of Beer. Evening Lounge: Défense de Fumer. Bed. Such is the daily routine until three weeks before the race, when a sojourn at Putney is deemed advisable, to accustom their style of rowing to a strong tidal river like the Thames. From that moment they are interviewed by reporters, photographers, Touts, and the customary herd of river-side "loafers"; receiving the undisguised homage of all classes, from the awe-stricken schoolboy, who kisses the doorstep of their hotel, to the Belgravian "swell," who tools down to witness their practice. Meantime how fare these objects of admiration? Jollily enough. They are being fed like gamecocks at the expense of the University Boat Club, and are having more fuss made with them than they are ever likely to have again. "Ballyragging""-the natural outcome of rude health-serves to while away the spare time of these "sportive monsters of the deep," whereby not only much damage ensures to the furniture, but also occasionally to their precious limbs. Di talem avertite casum! Nor do they indulge in a perennial flutter: only when they lean forward for the start amid the boon of 1,000 voices, does a sickly feeling of responsibility steal over them and drain their big throbbing hearts, but the next moment it is dashed away as each man settles down to his 44 miles with machine-like regularity, with eye firmly glued to one particular spot on the jersey in front of him. Twenty minutes serve to turn the scale, this way or that: after which the longforbidden beaker is drained to the dregs in savage despite of the grim monster Training, who baffled of his prey-cùm gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras. Next morning our blazing Hero wakes up an ordinary mortal. Denn der Mond nimmer scheint und ich habe geträumt Und steigen die Sterne, so seh'ich von ferne Die Augen von Annabel Lee. Bei einbrechender Nacht, umfass' ich sie traut Mein Liebling, mein Alles, mein Reh, meine Braut An dem Grabmal dort bei der See An dem Grab bei der brausenden See. CRWM. |