The English Spy: An Original Work Characteristic, Satirical, And Humorous. C. M. Westmacott

cheek; and quickly stealing away to some sequestered spot, his throbbing bosom was relieved by many a flood of woe. That some protecting spirit watched over his actions, and directed his course, he was well assured, but as yet he had never been able to comprehend the mystery with which he was surrounded. His questions on this point to his mother it was evident gave her pain, and were always met by some evasive answer. He had been early taught to keep his own secret, but the prying curiosity of an Eton school-boy was not easily satisfied, and too often rendered the task one of great pain and difficulty. On these occasions I would seek

      1 Friends.

       2 The Eton phrase for father.

       him out, and as the subject was one of too tender a nature for the tongue of friendship to dwell upon, endeavour to divert his thoughts by engaging him in some enlivening sport. His amiable manners and generous heart had endeared him to all, and in a short time his delicate feelings were respected, and the slightest allusion to ambiguity of birth cautiously avoided by all his associates, who, whatever might be their suspicions, thought his brilliant qualifications more than compensated for any want of ancestral distinction.

      The following portrait of my friend is from the pen of our elegant con, Horace Eglantine.

      A PORTRAIT.

       A heart fill'd with friendship and love,

       A brain free from passion's excess,

       A mind a mean action above,

       A hand to relieve keen distress.

       Poverty smiled on his birth,

       And gave what all riches exceeds,

       Wit, honesty, wisdom, and worth;

       A soul to effect noble needs.

       Legitimates bow at his shrine;

       Unfetter'd he sprung into life;

       When vigour with love doth combine

       To free nature from priestcraft and strife.

       No ancient escutcheon he claim'd,

       Crimson'd with rapine and blood;

       He titles and baubles disdain'd,

       Yet his pedigree traced from the flood.

       Ennobled by all that is bright

       In the wreath of terrestrial fame,

       Genius her pure ray of light

       Spreads a halo to circle his name.

      The main-spring of all his actions was a social disposition, which embraced a most comprehensive view of the duties of good fellowship. He was equally popular with all parties, by never declaring for any particular one: with the cricketers he was accounted a hard swipe{3} an active field{4} and a stout bowler;{5} in a water party he was a stroke{6} of the ten oar; at foot-ball, in the playing fields, or a leap across Chalvey ditch, he was not thought small beer{7} of; and he has been known to have bagged three sparrows after a toodle{8} of three miles. His equals loved him for his social qualities, and courted his acquaintance as the sine qua non of society; and the younger members of the school looked up to him for protection and assistance. If power was abused by the upper boys, Bernard was appealed to as the mediator between the fag{9} and his master. His grants of liberties{10} to the commonalty were indiscriminate and profuse, while his influence was always exerted to obtain the same privileges for his numerous proteges from the more close aristocrats.{11} He was always to be seen attended by a shoal of dependents of every form in the school, some to get their lessons construed, and others to further claims to their respective stations in

      3 A good bat-man.

       4 To run well, or keep a good look out.

       5 Strong and expert.

       6 A first rate waterman.

       7 Not thought meanly of. Sometimes this phrase is used in

       derision, as, he does not think small beer of himself.

       8 A walk.

       9 Any sixth or fifth form boy can fag an Oppidan underling:

       the collegers are exempted from this custom.

       10 The liberties, or college bounds, are marked by stones

       placed in different situations; grants of liberties are

       licences given by the head boys to the juniors to break

       bounds, or rather to except them from the disagreeable

       necessity of shirking, (i.e.) hiding from fear of being

       reported to the masters.

       11 To that interesting original miscellany, the 'Etonian,' I

       am indebted for several valuable hints relative to early

       scenes. The characters are all drawn from observation, with

       here and there a slight deviation, or heightening touch, the

       rather to disguise and free them from aught of personal

       offence, than any intentional departure from truth and

       nature.

       the next cricket match or water expedition. The duck and green pea suppers at Surley Hall would have lost half their relish without the enlivening smiles and smart repartees of Bernard Blackmantle. The preparations for the glorious fourth of June were always submitted to his superior skill and direction. His fiat could decide the claims of the rival boats, in their choice of jackets, hats, and favors; and the judicious arrangement of the fire-works was another proof of his taste. Let it not, however, be thought that his other avocations so entirely monopolized him as to preclude a due attention to study. Had it been so, his success with the [Greek phrase] would never have been so complete: his desire to be able to confer obligations on his schoolfellows induced Bernard to husband carefully every hour which he spent at home; a decent scholarship, and much general knowledge, was the reward of this plan. The treasure-house of his memory was well stored, and his reputation as an orator gave promise of future excellence. His classical attainments, if not florid, were liberal, and free from pedantry. His proficiency in English literature was universally acknowledged, and his love of the poets amounted to enthusiasm. He was formed for all the bustle of variegated life, and his conversation was crystallized with the sparkling attractions of wit and humour. Subject to the weakness to which genius is ever liable, he was both eccentric and wayward, but he had the good sense to guard his failing from general observation; and although he often shot his arrows anonymously, he never dipt them in the gall of prejudice or ill-nature. I have dwelt upon his character with pleasure, because there are very few who know him intimately. With a happy versatility of talents, he is neither lonesome in his solitude, nor over joyous in a crowd. For his literary attainments, they must be judged of by their fruits. I cannot better conclude my attempt to describe his qualifications than by offering his first essay to your notice, a school-boy tribute to friendship.

      TRUE FRIENDSHIP.

       'Infido scurræ distabit amicus.'

       Horace.

       How very seldom do we find

       A relish in the human mind

       For friendship pure and real;

       How few its approbation seek,

       How oft we count its censures weak,

       Disguising what we feel.

       Adulation lives to please,

       Truth dies the victim of disease,

       Forgotten by the world:

       The flattery of the fool delights

       The wise, rebuke our pride affrights,

       And virtue's banner's furl'd.

       Wherefore do we censure fate,

       When she withholds the perfect state

       Of friendship from our grasp,

       If we ourselves have not the power,

       The mind to enjoy the blessed hour,