My dear Sir,--I must not allow your son to leave school without expressing to you the very high opinion I entertain of him. I fully coincide in Mr. Cotton's estimate both of his abilities and upright conduct. His mathematical knowledge is great for his age, and I doubt not he will do himself credit in cla.s.sics. As I believe I mentioned to you before, his examination for the Divinity prize was one of the most creditable exhibitions I have ever seen.

During the whole time of his being in my house, his conduct has been excellent.

Believe me to be, My dear Sir,

Yours very faithfully,

A.C. TAIT.

Public school life then was not what it is now; the atrocious system then in vogue of setting hundreds of lines for the most trifling offences made every day a weariness and a hopeless waste of time, while the bad discipline which was maintained in the dormitories made even the nights intolerable--especially for the small boys, whose beds in winter were denuded of blankets that the bigger ones might not feel cold.

Charles kept no diary during his time at Rugby; but, looking back upon it, he writes in 1855:--

During my stay I made I suppose some progress in learning of various kinds, but none of it was done _con amore_, and I spent an incalculable time in writing out impositions--this last I consider one of the chief faults of Rugby School. I made some friends there, the most intimate being Henry Leigh Bennett (as college acquaintances we find fewer common sympathies, and are consequently less intimate)--but I cannot say that I look back upon my life at a Public School with any sensations of pleasure, or that any earthly considerations would induce me to go through my three years again.

When, some years afterwards, he visited Radley School, he was much struck by the cubicle system which prevails in the dormitories there, and wrote in his Diary, "I can say that if I had been thus secure from annoyance at night, the hardships of the daily life would have been comparative trifles to bear."

The picture on page 32 was, I believe, drawn by Charles rile he was at Rugby in ill.u.s.tration of a letter received from one of his sisters.

Halnaby, as I have said before, was an outlying district of Croft parish.

During his holidays he used to amuse himself by editing local magazines. Indeed, they might be called _very local_ magazines, as their circulation was confined to the inmates of Croft Rectory. The first of these, _Useful and Instructive Poetry_, was written about 1845. It came to an untimely end after a six months' run, and was followed at varying intervals by several other periodicals, equally short-lived.

In 1849 or 1850, _The Rectory Umbrella_ began to appear. As the editor was by this time seventeen or eighteen years old, it was naturally of a more ambitious character than any of its precursors. It contained a serial story of the most thrilling interest, ent.i.tled, "The Walking-Stick of Destiny," some meritorious poetry, a few humorous essays, and several caricatures of pictures in the Vernon Gallery. Three reproductions of these pictures follow, with extracts from the _Umbrella_ descriptive of them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The only sister who _would_ write to her brother, though the table had just "folded down"! The other sisters are depicted "sternly resolved to set off to Halnaby & the Castle,"

tho' it is yet "early, early morning"--Rembrondt.]

THE VERNON GALLERY.

As our readers will have seen by the preceding page, we have commenced engraving the above series of pictures. "The Age of Innocence," by Sir J. Reynolds, representing a young Hippopotamus seated under a shady tree, presents to the contemplative mind a charming union of youth and innocence.

EDITOR.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _"The Scanty Meal."_]

We have been unusually[001] successful in our second engraving from the Vernon Gallery. The picture is intended, as our readers will perceive, to ill.u.s.trate the evils of h.o.m.oeopathy.[002] This idea is well carried out through the whole picture. The thin old lady at the head of the table is in the painter's best style; we almost fancy we can trace in the eye of the other lady a lurking suspicion that her gla.s.ses are not really in fault, and that the old gentleman has helped her to _nothing_ instead of a nonillionth.[003] Her companion has evidently got an empty gla.s.s in his hand; the two children in front are admirably managed, and there is a sly smile on the footman's face, as if he thoroughly enjoyed either the bad news he is bringing or the wrath of his mistress. The carpet is executed with that elaborate care for which Mr. Herring is so famed, and the picture on the whole is one of his best.

"_The First Ear-ring_"

The scene from which this excellent picture is painted is taken from a pa.s.sage in the autobiography[004] of the celebrated Sir William Smith[005] of his life when a schoolboy: we transcribe the pa.s.sage: "One day Bill Tomkins[006] and I were left alone in the house, the old doctor being out; after playing a number of pranks Bill laid me a bet of sixpence that I wouldn't pour a bottle of ink over the doctor's cat. _I did it_, but at that moment old Muggles came home, and caught me by the ear as I attempted to run away. My sensations at the moment I shall never forget; _on that occasion I received my first ear-ring_.[007] The only remark Bill made to me, as he paid me the money afterwards was, 'I say, didn't you just howl jolly!'" The engraving is an excellent copy of the picture.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Sir D. Wilkie Painter The First Earring.

W. Greatbach Engraver. _from the picture in the Vernon Gallery_]

The best thing in the _Rectory Umbrella_ was a parody on Lord Macaulay's style in the "Lays of Ancient Rome"; Charles had a special apt.i.tude for parody, as is evidenced by several of the best-known verses in his later books.

LAYS OF SORROW.

No. 2.

Fair stands the ancient[008] Rectory, The Rectory of Croft, The sun shines bright upon it, The breezes whisper soft.

From all the house and garden Its inhabitants come forth, And muster in the road without, And pace in twos and threes about, The children of the North.

Some are waiting in the garden, Some are waiting at the door, And some are following behind, And some have gone before.

But wherefore all this mustering?

Wherefore this vast array?

A gallant feat of horsemanship Will be performed to-day.

To eastward and to westward, The crowd divides amain, Two youths are leading on the steed, Both tugging at the rein; And sorely do they labour, For the steed[009] is very strong, And backward moves its stubborn feet, And backward ever doth retreat, And drags its guides along.

And now the knight hath mounted, Before the admiring band, Hath got the stirrups on his feet.

The bridle in his hand.

Yet, oh! beware, sir horseman!

And tempt thy fate no more, For such a steed as thou hast got, Was never rid before!

The rabbits[010] bow before thee.

And cower in the straw; The chickens[011] are submissive, And own thy will for law; Bullfinches and canary Thy bidding do obey; And e'en the tortoise in its sh.e.l.l Doth never say thee nay.

But thy steed will hear no master, Thy steed will bear no stick, And woe to those that beat her, And woe to those that kick![012]

For though her rider smite her, As hard as he can hit, And strive to turn her from the yard, She stands in silence, pulling hard Against the pulling bit.

And now the road to Dalton Hath felt their coming tread, The crowd are speeding on before, And all have gone ahead.

Yet often look they backward, And cheer him on, and bawl, For slower still, and still more slow, That horseman and that charger go, And scarce advance at all.

And now two roads to choose from Are in that rider's sight: In front the road to Dalton, And New Croft upon the right.

"I can't get by!" he bellows, "I really am not able!

Though I pull my shoulder out of joint, I cannot get him past this point, For it leads unto his stable!"

Then out spake Ulfrid Longbow,[013]

A valiant youth was he, "Lo! I will stand on thy right hand And guard the pa.s.s for thee!"

And out spake fair Flureeza,[014]

His sister eke was she, "I will abide on thy other side, And turn thy steed for thee!"

And now commenced a struggle Between that steed and rider, For all the strength that he hath left Doth not suffice to guide her.

Though Ulfrid and his sister Have kindly stopped the way, And all the crowd have cried aloud, "We can't wait here all day!"

Round turned he as not deigning Their words to understand, But he slipped the stirrups from his feet The bridle from his hand, And grasped the mane full lightly, And vaulted from his seat, And gained the road in triumph,[015]

And stood upon his feet.

All firmly till that moment Had Ulfrid Longbow stood, And faced the foe right valiantly, As every warrior should.

But when safe on terra firma His brother he did spy, "What _did_ you do that for?" he cried, Then unconcerned he stepped aside And let it canter by.