own crown and sceptre, and St. Cloud--but I think no such thing. After much inquisitiveness on the part of Napoleon, and much embarrassment on the part of the Captain, the former signified his intention of sending an Article of four or five pages every now and then, if the Ministers of the King of Clubs and the King of England would give him leave. His informant observed, that Politics could not be admitted. “Ah ha!" said the Querist, "and do you think I can write nothing but Politics? Speak for me (turning to Madame Bertrand), do I not write delightful Sonnets?" Sire," said Montholon, "let us hope you will soon have something better to do." "C'est selon!" said Bonaparte, significantly. 66 March 22. From a long Poem on Dogs, which I do not much admire, I extract the following lines on Munito, with whom many of our readers are, doubtless, well acquainted. I had a great mind to make no extract at all, for I am rather piqued that the author has talked about Kings, and Queens, and Pam, without introducing a compliment. "Though great Spadille, or that famed prince of Loo, The Royal Guests amid Plebeian packs : And though the cards in mix'd confusion lie, And mock the vigour of a human eye, Munito still, with more than magic art, Knows Kings from Knaves, the Diamond from the Heart! Happy were men, if thus in graver things, Our Knaves were always parted from our Kings! Happy the maid, who in Love's maze can part The Miser's Diamond from the Lover's Heart!" Corrected the proof of "Tancred and Sigismunda,” and had struck it off for N° VII. Sent"The Serenade" to press. Our readers will ex cuse a few trifling inaccuracies of rhyme, &c. I need not bring to their recollection "Ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis Offendar maculis." Whist in the evening. Held his Majesty nearly every deal, and won accordingly. March 24.---Read over several little compositions, by I. I. G. I am sorry that it is not in my power to avail myself of his kindness in such a degree as I could wish; but, as we allow 20 pages only to Old Etonians, we are obliged to be very choice in the selection. The following, I think, is as good a specimen as I can select :-- STANZAS FOR MUSIC. "Go, tuneful bird, and quickly pass, To wake my Emma's eyes from sleep; Go tell her that there are on earth Some hearts that only wake to sigh; Received the following lines "to the Rainbow," by R. S. By-the-by, we intended to have assured him, before this, that the jest about "bamming" was only inserted for the purpose of calling attention to some very pretty lines, and at the same time giving a colour to the singularity of their style. TO THE RAINBOW. "Gentle Sylph of the Storm, who reposest above, As a Virgin that hangs on the neck of her love, For protection and rest, 'mid aërial war, So 'mid sorrows of earth, though festivity smile, Its embrace is delusion, its loveliness guile, Fare thee well! 'Mid affliction to him while I bow, March 25.--Went to the Devil in a high wind. March 26.---Corrected the proof of "Le Blanc on Interest." An article on the subject was promised, if I recollect right, by Mr. Burton. I cannot imagine what made him relinquish a topic so suited to his taste and studies. Received some Stanzas from F. J. He must excuse some possible delay in their insertion, as the limits, which we allow to foreign contributions, are hardly wide enough for the favours we receive. I have received a letter, signed "A Friend at Westminster," which I shall answer in this place :-- SIR,I am obliged to our Westminster readers for the interest they take in "The Etonian," and beg leave to assure them that the professions we have made are no puff, but that 60 pages of every Number are bonâ fide the production of Etonians of the present day. Moreover, I believe that no Publication has been carried on at Eton, which has not admitted foreign assistance. I am, Sir, Yours, &c. PEREGRINE COURTENAY. March 27.--Having a vacant page, I will fill it with another little composition by my poor friend :-- "A Flower, in Nature's fairest dress, Bloom'd on its parent tree; That blush was not for me! Oh! not for me, right well I knew ; And often from my heart I pray'd I could have borne to see it bloom To deck another's breast; And when that Flower, in future days, Still living and still bless'd, I should have spoke a calmer tone, But thus to find it hurl'd away That lingers on the tongue !- Gone is the colour from thy cheek, In ignorance supremely bless'd, Thy child is slumbering on thy breast, I love to muse on thee by night! Cling to the wounds it makes, Where are ye now, ye coldly wise, Yours is the lifelessness of life! I will not change this inward strife Nor lose, in my departing years, The pain-the bliss-the throb of tears !" E. M. March 28.-At the Printing-Office. Mr. M'Kechnie (a very worthy gentleman, and a particular friend of mine,) asked for what day No VII. should be announced? If I do not remember, I am afraid my Readers will, that No IV. (our last Holiday Number) was not out altogether so soon as it ought to have been. Now the Holidays are again coming, and I am afraid of making promises. Shakspeare, as somebody has before observed in the course of this Number, has said "tell truth, and shame the Devil!"" In the present instance I fear one might say, with greater propriety, "tell lies, and shame the Devil." However, that the Devil may never again have to blush for the lies of Peregrine Courtenay, I will make a safe promise-Yes! I pledge myself that- N° VII. shall be published on the first of May---it possible. |