FAREWELL TO ETON

Gladstone's farewell to Eton came with Christmas (1827). He writes to
his sister his last Etonian letter (December 2) before departure, and
'melancholy that departure is.' On the day before, he had made his
valedictory speech to the Society, and the empty shelves and dismantled
walls, the table strewn with papers, the books packed away in their
boxes, have the effect of 'mingling in one lengthened mass all the
boyish hopes and solicitudes and pleasures' of his Eton life. 'I have
long ago made up my mind that I have of late been enjoying what will in
all probability be, as far as my own individual case is concerned, the
happiest years of my life. And they have fled! From these few facts do
we not draw a train of reflections awfully important in their nature and
extremely powerful in their impression on the mind?'

DR. KEATE

Two reminiscences of Eton always gave him, and those who listened to
him, much diversion whenever chance brought them to his mind, and he has
set them down in an autobiographic fragment, for which this is the
place:--

To Dr. Keate nature had accorded a stature of only about five feet,
or say five feet one; but by costume, voice, manner (including a
little swagger), and character he made himself in every way the
capital figure on the Eton stage, and his departure marked, I
imagine, the departure of the old race of English public school
masters, as the name of Dr. Busby seems to mark its introduction.
In connection with his name I shall give two anecdotes separated by
a considerable interval of years. About the year 1820, the
eloquence of Dr. Edward Irving drew crowds to his church in London,
which was presbyterian. It required careful previous arrangements
to secure comfortable accommodation. The preacher was solemn,
majestic (notwithstanding the squint), and impressive; carrying all
the appearance of devoted earnestness. My father had on a certain
occasion, when I was still a small Eton boy, taken time by the
forelock, and secured the use of a convenient pew in the first rank
of the gallery. From this elevated situation we surveyed at ease
and leisure the struggling crowds below. The crush was everywhere
great, but greatest of all in the centre aisle. Here the mass of
human beings, mercilessly compressed, swayed continually backwards
a