I spake. Philocles then in his travels arrived at an island, the circuit of which was forty days' voyage. It lies far to. the north-west of the Hyperboreans, and is called by the inhabitants Angleland, which (I speak from a conjecture) is derived from the many sharp juttings of the land into the sea. Voyaging however up the river Seven (so called from its seven mouths) he arrived at a place where another stream, called the Aion (alav), contributes her waters to the Seven. Up this sailing after many perils, he came to a town, to which is a name Rock-by, as the inhabitants say, from its citadel being founded on a rock. Here he saw a marvellous prodigy, for the inhabitants were all small of stature, insomuch that to one chancing to arrive there, it would seem that they were all boys: to which appearance this fact gives further countenance, that all their faces were (except a very few) entirely impube.* But what most did cause Philocles to marvel, was the noble and wise government and constitution of these same people. They were entirely autonomous, not being subject to the king of the land, but having a constitution and laws of their own. This mode of government, then, was of some such sort as follows: They had over them all a staff of fourteen or thereabouts, who styled themselves, or were styled, the "Lords." These, however, ruled but great matters, and decided but great causes, leaving the smaller matters to the decision and supervision of the other assemblies; which indeed. were constituted in this way: First there was an oligarchy, whom the other inhabitants, though on what grounds I

* Most commentators are of opinion that Herodotus, in the above passage, has made a confusion between the town of Rock-by and a large university, or other such educational establishment, which from other authors we discover to have existed there.

could not discover, called the Sixth-perchance because they originally consisted of six; these held under their control the discipline of the rest of the people, and when any whosoever erred, it was (the part) of the oligarchy, whether assembled, or man by man, to punish the same. Next there was an aristocratical assemblage, which was dignified by a most marvellous name, viz., Big-Side, which perchance was so named, forasmuch as they were for the most part the (cleverest and) biggest-limbed of the people: these did manage the legislative part of the government, and did ordain what rules soever it seemed good that the people should obey. Lastly, there was a democracy, which indeed formed part of the constitution, though as Philocles told me, it was rarely assembled, and only when there was any subject in hand which deeply affected the whole nation; the name thereof, however, I could not remember, nor whence possibly derived, though the sound thereof seemed somewhat like Skoolevy.† Concerning then Angleland and Rock-by let so much have been said. † An ingenious conjecture of Bentley that this is SchoolLevée. Hardly possible.-ED.

THE LATE NEW RUGBEIAN.'

Chorus of School-boys :

Botheration! Botheration!

What have you done to your publication?

There's a cry from the school-house, aroused from their dream; From Oxford a wailing; from Cambridge a scream :

How fared it with your publication,

Ye five props of our nation,

After all your botheration?

Not a sound was heard: to our box we went,
And our chieftain stooped to unlock it;
;

But an icy chill to each heart was sent,
As he put the key back in his pocket.

Few and short were the words we said,
And we spake not a word of sorrow;
As we gazed on one envelope carefully laid;
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

A cedar coffin was all his dress;

Alone in his glory we found him :
There he lay like a newspaper waiting the press,
With Billington's books around him.

We carried him gently on Saturday night,

To our houses sadly returning,

By Billington's window's misty light,
And the gas lamps dimly burning.

Dirge of Editors :

Let us bury the great “booke”

With Rugby's lamentation !

Let us bury the great " booke"

To the noise of the mourning of our little nation.

Mourning when their labours fall

Editors carry the writer's pall,

And sorrow darkens study and hall.

Where shall we lay the paper we deplore ?

Here, upon the editorial floor;

Let the noise of those who wrote for it,
And the feet of those who "swote" for it
Echo round the scraps for evermore.

Chorus of Masters :—

Where is the grave of the "New Rugbeian ?"
Where may the grave of that good paper be?
Under a fire-place, or it may be on

An editor's bookcase, that never for three
Months has been guilty of being swept clear
From cobwebs and dust-aye! it may be there.
The talent which Rugby once claimed for her own
Is gone, and the birch in its stead has grown.
The bubble is "bust!"

The paper is dust,

And its soul's in the cedar box, we trust.

Chorus of Mr. Buckoll's Small Boys

Ho ho ho !

Low, low, low

The "Rugbeian " lies on the editor's floor!

Print it and puff it,

You never shall stuff it

Down one of our pockets, I guess, any more.

Shade of Mr. Billington (out at elbows) seen flitting across the stage, loquitur :—

There's no cash before, and no cash behind,

And Billington walks in the steps of the blind!

A READER OF THE OLD RUG BÆAN.

[We have inserted this, though we hope it is rather premature.-ED. N. R.]

THE

NEW RUGBEIAN.

No. III.

DECEMBER, 1858.

POPULAR EXCITEMENTS.

MANY have been the strange sights that the streets of London have seen, but perhaps the strangest which has ever been known was seen in the time of Charles II, when through the narrow streets, which were then the largest thoroughfares of London, there passed a procession, strange in its character, and still stranger from the exemplification that it offers of the effects of popular excitement.

The procession was headed by some clergymen, then followed a bier, on which was placed a coffin, and then there pressed after it a crowd of people, rich and poor, male and female, old and young, raising hideous cries, and from their gesticulations and shouts, appearing rather to be attending an execution than a christian burial.

It must have been a curious sight to have seen these people in their quaint dresses, their short tunics, and petticoat breeches with linings tied at the knees and adorned with ribands, their broad hats and feathers, passing through the little lanes, over which the wooden gables of the houses projected so far, on either side, as almost to meet over the head of the passers, it must have been strange to see the open booths, shutting one by one as the procession approached, and the apprentices leaving their work, and no longer clamouring out the various wares