has done too much honour to Eton, not to have his wishes complied with. He had an At his own particular request to me, I had the melancholy satisfaction of planting six weeping willow trees on the banks of the Thames in the Eton playing fields, in the places, which Lord Wellesley had pointed out to me. idea that the weeping willows in this country had sprung from those of Babylon, and his wish to have some planted in the playing fields evidently had reference to his own beautiful poem, the Salix Babylonica, from which I will give a quotation as illustrative of his love for Eton. Me quoties curas suadent lenire seniles Sit mihi, primitiasque meas, tenuesque triumphos, Come parent Eton! turn the stream of time Recall my brightest, sweetest days of prime ! When all was hope, and triumph, joy, and praise. To the steep solid heights of lasting fame, That brighten round the Greek and Roman name. O blest instruction! friend to generous youth! And wake her lyre to strains of faith divine. In concluding this notice of Eton, I may mention that one of the most remarkable improvements that have taken place there lately, is the erection of a handsome library for the use of the boys. There is but one fault to be found with this building, which is beautiful in architectural design, and in good taste—it is not large enough,—and it ought to have some extra rooms attached to it as places of deposit for works of art, antiquities, &c. For, unless I have greatly miscalculated the feelings of Eton men, and overrated the influence of Eton, the present library, with its two small auxiliary rooms, will very soon be found inadequate for the reception of the gifts of its grateful Alumni. It is also impossible not to be struck, on going into the great or upper school of the boys, with the fine vista of busts of Eton worthies, which now line the walls of that room. It is a singular proof of the rapid facility with which a fortunate idea when once hit upon may be carried out; that, although this noble room seems likely, within a short time, to be thronged with the images of Eton's chosen sons, yet the collection has been made by gratuitous and spontaneous bounty within a year or two. It seems an obvious and efficacious system to influence the minds of the young, by keeping before their eyes the images of the great men whose successors and representatives they are. An Eton boy cannot help feeling exultation and dignity as he walks down the upper school, and surveys the busts of the celebrated men who formerly trod the same ground with himself, and now look upon the school of their boyhood like tutelary genii of the place. I cannot help remarking that our schools, generally, appeal very little to the imagination and feelings of boys. They make little or no use of association, which is, nevertheless, one of the most powerful instruments in the government and discipline of the human understanding. In 'general, the school room is the dirtiest place in the establishment; whereas, I cannot help thinking that any association with learning should be made agreeable, and, as far as possible, delightful. Indeed, the disinclination to learning felt by many men in after life, may perhaps be attributed, not unreasonably, to the unpleasant associations with which instruction in boyhood was conveyed to them. The busts placed in the upper school at Eton, regarded in this point of view, seem most worthy of remark and admiration. Let me conclude with an old motto, and a pure aspiration Floreat Etona! IVER CHURCH AND THE TREATY HOUSE, UXBRIDGE. Great suit and controversy there arose, Touching the sacred statutes of the realm; For liberty and law were then as foes, Arm'd 'gainst each other with the sword and helm. But to be just, then love with law must go, And the mild sceptre sway a happy land. A VERY pleasant day may be passed at these two places, and the drive to Iver, through Stoke, although the country is generally flat, has much to attract attention. The farm-houses, the cottages, and numerous orchards, are all characteristic of this part of Buckinghamshire, and the flowery and ferny banks of the lanes are very pleasing. The church of Iver is one of those old village structures which is very striking. It has a fine tower, bold projecting buttresses, early gothic windows, and a beautiful archway leading into the church. Much ivy is growing about it, and old yew-trees, so frequently to be found in the churchyards of Buckinghamshire, are to be seen here. There are some curious and interesting monuments and brasses in the church, and one of the oldest fonts I have met with, which however is sadly disfigured by an unsightly wooden covering. The fondness of churchwardens for whitewash, on account of its cheapness and ready application, has probably been the occasion of concealing many old frescoes in this church. Some of the ancient colours are still peeping out here and there, and it is much to be regretted that the care of our interesting country churches, instead of being left to the ignorant and vulgar, should not have their decorations and improvements placed in the hands of those who would restore the taste of our forefathers. Rural deans, if they had any, might do much good in this respect. That many very curious decorations might be discovered under successive coats of whitewash, cannot be doubted. On one of the monuments is an inscription in Latin, beneath a figure kneeling, recording that John King was killed by having a shoemaker's awl stuck into his forehead by a relation whom he had fostered in his house, named Roger Parkinson, when he was drunk. There is also a monument erected to perpetuate the memory of Venturus Mandy, which I am |