of feelings now pouring forth their clear streams to the sunlight, now locking their waters in the ice of reserve; now looking at life's bright side, now at its dark, never preserving an equilibrium. We are anomalies, that find our truest wisdom in sorrow, and our acme of folly, when the calm of prosperity should teach us calmness and self control. We are shadows of the night, which shrink from the light of truth (I speak of man as a class), unless we can find some half-gloomy retreat, wherein we may still linger, the impenetrable covert of self-opinion. We are the wise men of a moment, the sophists of a minute, the fools of an hour. We are worshippers of form, and cannot fully comprehend the ideal; thinking form to be truth, ideality falsehood, or at best but built on the sand, whereby we become the sport of deceitful appearances, heirs presumptive of folly; deeming imaginative speculations but smuggled goods obtained by illicit commerce with the forms of air, and the vagaries of our minds. We are" but words are wanting to tell what." COMMON SENSE. 6 We were somewhat startled to find in our last numberof the "Rugbæan," an article most eloquently declaring against common sense.' At first we began to wonder what was to be the issue of this novel theory, but a very few lines sufficed to shew us that it originated simply in an entire misconception of the meaning of the term. We do not think that the original signification of the phrase ' common sense' was, by any means, the average portion of sense enjoyed by mankind in general; taking this view of the case, there certainly is but little in it to boast of: but according to our idea, it signified that particular branch of sense which may be brought to bear upon the common affairs of every day life, as opposed to those which apply solely to one particular subject. Few people we trust, mistake the book of Common Prayer for a mere collection of the prayers most commonly in vogue amongst christians, but rather believe that it contains those which may be used by all; well applicable, indeed, to peculiar circumstances, but never coming amiss to any. In the same manner we make use of the term 'com mon sense:' not as being "distinct from mind," or as "bringing down great men to our own little level," but as that quality which will be most likely to render beneficial to our species the talents of the great men to whom we may apply its test. Neither do we, by highly estimating common sense, at all "abjure theory as the greatest plague of life," rather, we try to reduce theory to practcie, and to render that useful which, before, was only showy and attractive. Brilliant talents, and the glorious ideas to which they give birth, are, undoubtedly, to be respected and admired: yet by themselves what are they but the lightning flashes of the electricity of the mind; but bring them beneath the guidance of common sense, and that which was before useless and even destructive becomes the most powerful instrument for the happiness and well-being of mankind. For what, after all, is (next of course to the eternal welfare of our souls,) the grand object of our existence, the real test of human greatness? "Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way, But to act that each to-morrow Find us farther than to day." Footprints in the sands of time." If we would have them endure, and would not have them washed away by the ceasless changes of the tide of human existence, they must be "Footprints that perhaps another, To be durable, they must be useful, real, practical. Far be it from us to detract one jot or one tittle, from the honour due to resplendent genius; without it our progress would be slow indeed; but still less would we speak slighingtly of that common sense which applies the grand ideas of the talented to the uses for which their great originator intended them, and renders them beneficial to mankind, and instrumental in promoting the glory of God. In the vast machinery of nature, genius is, indeed, the mainspring which gives it life and motion, but common sense" is the regulator which restrains and directs it, the cranks and chains and wheels which apply its power to the objects for which it has been formed. 66 Whence art thou come, gray Palmer? from the land of Holy Name? From the gleam of the Saracen scimitar? from the land of glorious fame? Where the cedars wave beneath the wind, where the olives flourish free? Where the willows weep on the rocky steep that looks on Galilee? No! Lady! it is not thence I come-not from the Jordan's side Where that noble river of ages rolls down his golden tide; Tis not where the cedar looks on the scenes of the Holy War, But I come from a scene of loveliness which is brighter and better far. Is it then where the orange flowers blossom? the land of the myrtle groves! Where the troubadour wanders and sings the tales of his youth and early loves? Where the painted dragon fly buzzes the golden woods among, Or hums in his pride by the Ebro's side, that river of ancient song The land where the gipsy roams abroad that people of olden times? Or perchance, gray sire, the land of fire they tell of in eastern climes. No Lady! it is not thence I come-not from the orange flowers, Tis not from Spain or her lovely shores-not from her myrtle bowers, Tis not from Grenada's battlements or from Ebro's gentle rill, But I come from a scene of loveliness which is brighter and better still. Then thou comest from sunny Italy, from the Tiber's golden sands, From the city that dwells on mountains and rules o'er a thousand lands. And hast beheld each monument? and hast beheld each dome? And been in the throng, and past along, in the streets of mighty Rome? No! Lady! It is not thence come, not from the Tiber's About ten days ago the houses of Mr. Arnold and Mr. Walrond were broken into during the same night, and we may, therefore, naturally conclude by the same parties. We are happy to state, however, that the suspected men are now in custody. On Wednesday, the 4th inst., two men offered a chain for sale at Lutterworth, the value of which was about £2, they asked 7s. 6d. ; suspicions were excited, the police came, and the chain was recognised as one of those taken from Mr. Arnold's From these two men it was discovered that they were going to take the produce of the sale to Caves' Inn, where they were to meet two more men, To Caves' Inn the police repaired, and found the other two as they expected. On searching one of them, the first thing discovered was a knife, missed from Mr. Arnold's, and immediately after a watch, taken during the holydays. On searching the cottage of three of the men at Newton, several other stolen things were found. The men taken up are three brothers of the name of Irons, and another called Sutton. One of the brothers has been in the employ of an upholsterer in the town, and has therefore had free access to all the boarding houses, and it was from a study at Mr. Arnold's that the watch found on him was taken during the holydays. After examination before the magistrates, the prisoners were manded till Thursday. re We beg to remind our Subscribers that they have received Four Numbers, (this being the last issued this halfyear) at Threepence each, stamp included. Subscriptions can be paid in any way most convenient to the Subscribers. Crossley & Billington, Printers, Market Place, Rugby. No. V.] SATURDAY, MARCH 1, 1851. MOORE. Were't the last drop of the well, Ere my fainting spirit fell, 'Tis to thee that I would drink. In that water, as this wine, The libation I would pour Would be Peace to thee and thine, And a health to thee Tom Moore. BYRON. To the prevailing thoughtfulness of British poetry, the vivacious brilliancy of Moore is a striking contrast. We are seldom permitted by him to realize the poem, so much more prominent is the idea of the song: we rather wander through level meadows, than climb the mountains of lofty thought: the strain of high excitement, the great. mysteries of our internal being; attempts to "reach the height of some great argument" are alike avoided: but in him we find everywhere sparkling images, and the sprightly spirit of his country, embodied in a musical dalliance with its traditions and hopes. Still we must mark the great distinction between the poetry of the artist and the poetry of the man: and perhaps there is no better example of the former than Lalla Rookh, the beauties of which are not naturally suggested, but gleaned from research amid the history and accounts of the natural appearance of the East and though it argues most consummate skill to be able to build up a poem by first collecting and garnering the materials, and then bringing them forth as wanted, yet there is a far higher stage of the art than this, to which Moore has contributed but little. But the great characteristic of Moore is fancy: his verse beams rather with the glittering of frost work, or the phosphorescence of the sea, than with the serene light of the stars. This is but natural to such a favourite of social life. The metaphors of a poet always illustrate his peculiar tone and those of Moore show his power of fancy, particularly in comparing natural facts to moral qualities,-joyful moments in the midst of misery he compares to Those verdant spots that bloom Around the crater's burning lips, Sweetening the very edge of doom. : [TWOPENCE. Among numerous similar examples I will quote one more; In every glance there broke, without controul, Like lightning, round the ruins it has made. But Moore enjoys a great advantage in the beautiful music his verse has been so indissc lubly allied to, that it is difficult to examine it fairly without; and since sense, and soul have been simultaneously addressed, no modern bard has been more widely felt to be a poet. Sheridan well remarks that no one has succeeded in putting so much heart into his fancy. National associations also have their weight in our estimate of Moore: with the groans of afflicted Erin his notes of fancy and feeling mingle, reminding us of the warm traits of the yet lurks under their distress. With justice Irish heart, and of the kindly genius which may he sing Dear harp of my Country, in darkness 1 found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long : When proudly, my own island harp! I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song. Still we must regret that amidst his more finished productions, there is a mass of lines of very little merit, and full of far-fetched conceits. Any, however, who are inclined to disparage Moore, we recommend to read the beautiful episode of "Paradise and the Peri," and the longer story of" The Fire-worshippers." But doubtless his fame will rest eventually on the Irish melodies. In them you read the whole soul of the Irish: their patriotism, their high sense of honour, their pride of wrong, (for all who have suffered wrong long, become at last proud of those sufferings) their tenderness, and exaggeration, are all reflected in words which will immortalize their music. What Scott has done for the ballad spirit of the north, Moore has done for Ireland, blending, however, those simple and natural emotions with far richer imagery, though not with such deep feeling. But in his prose writings it is this imagery which gives his writing such a tinsel sort of character. In his life of Sheridan this particularly appears; he is simpler, and therefore more successful in his life of Lord Byron; but in all that we have seen of his, there is, to a greater or less degree, this same wildness and excess of imagery. Last half, as we were walking down the town, we met an old Rugbæan acquaintance who had left eight or ten years since. Whilst we 66 were talking, some fellows passed who seemed to attract our traveller's notice, as he stared at them much as one would at a Sandwich Islander, a Cherokee, or some other rara avis; then turning to us he said-" Goodness! who are those swells ?" "Only fellows," answered we. Fellows," cried our friend, "I wish they had been at school in my day, they would have been soon settled." * This confirmed my previous impression, that the school had recently undergone great outward changes, and that in Rugby the march of intellect had been anything but injurious to trade, and the tailoring interest in particular; and that enlightened ideas had created an increased demand for trouser cloth. Great and noble as these innovations are, yet persons have not been wanting to assail them, in the most unreasonable manner, but such is the usual fate of all brilliant improvements. These malicious railers have declared that it is a sign of the degeneracy of the times that the increased attention paid to dress has occasioned and been accompanied by a corresponding falling off in manliness, and that former Rugbæans would have scorned to make such puppets of themselves; that at the least it leads to great frivolity, by turning so much care and attention to a contemptible object, and that it reduces fellows, in their mind, to little better than tailors, the most effeminate of men, after the model of Messrs. Toots and Titmouse. But most of this may be at once set down as the splenetic railings of envious and disappointed vanity, in such as have neither power nor taste for this elegant accomplishment, and, as such, may be treated with merited contempt. To the other objections we would answer that the art of dress is no mean acquirement; that it has occupied the thoughts of kings and cardinals; that it is the outward badge of rank *The above is a fact. Why, and profession; and that articles of attire are the highest object of human ambition. Boasts not royalty its crown? prelacy its lawn? What were law without its ermine and periwig? or the portly dignitary without his cassock and his snowy banns? An unblemished coat (of arms) is the glory of our squires. Lastly, is not a garter the highest meed of victorious generalship or diplomatic wisdom. then, should not the public school-boy be distinguished by the manly "Railway," or the rugged "Bear?" suggestive of his fastness and dreadnought temperament. Farther to carry out the idea, might not the width of stripe and length of nap serve as a sort of scale or guage whereby to calculate boys' merit? 1 to 2 feet square, of 3 o more colours 10 inches to 12 ...... 6 to 10 inches, of 2 or 3 colours 4 to 6 inches, ditto, ditto.. 2 to 4 inches square stripe of colour Doubtful stripe, one cord down the side .... Smooth stuffs of 1 colour.. 6 Diamond of the first water. 5 First class swell. Jolly fellow, thorough 3 Not a bad sort of fellow. 2 Mild. Shady. Zero. Dead slow, stupid. This is but a rough suggestion, as it will be seen we omit chains, waistcoats, &c. which would serve for half degrees. One objection to this scale is the advantage it gives tall men over short ones, who, necessarily, are circumscribed by reason of their limitation of leg; but this is their misfortune, not their fault; and they must make up for it by their waistcoats or otherwise. Then whatever so-called philosophers may say as to the MIND constituting the gentleman, we men of the world know that money and dress alone make the man and gentleman. Furthermore, what scope does not dress afford for inventive genius? How we envy the fame of him who is the first to bring out some effective novelty! what an intellect was his who first discovered the gentle graces of a "Bear," or the retiring elegance of a "Railway!" We heartily concur in the general truth of our friend's remarks, as regards the change of character that has slowly, and we hope as yet but slightly, passed over the school. The desire of old days was to become manly, and a very earnest desire it was, at present if there is any one object pre-eminent, for we pursue all things most listlessly, it is a kind of vague, mild, hunting after the gentlemanly. The beau ideal of this homme comme il faut would seem to be a well-dressed do-nothing; a fellow who will with perfect good humour enter into any of your plans if they are not very troublesome, but who is a great deal too much of a gentleman to exert himself much about any thing, or even to have strong notions upon any point. Everything except the fall of his own and his neighbour's trousers is a matter of perfect indifference to him; it is shockingly vulgar, he thinks, to be at all energetic or vehement in any matter; and to hold any opinion strongly against those around you, is a sad want of courtesy and polish. This is the sort of fellow that is rather slipping into fashion, and a better style of fellow he perhaps is than that other less cultivated idol of a broad-shouldered "navvy," with his inclinations and his blunt, straight-forward honesty, alias his thorough-paced coarseness. The navvies, however, would do decidedly more amongst us, and have decidedly more influence on their generation than the tailors' blocks, if our would-be-well-bred friends will let us call Of this them by that name. There is certainly a great deal of apathy in the school; a great deal of childish gentlemanliness; a perfect toleration of all things, which has not been the result of any honest, honourable, self-restraint, but arises solely from a total indifference. indolent apathy there is no truer, less-exagge rated, more characteristic example, than the behaviour of the first big-side levée this half. Nobody seemed to care about anything; nobody seemed to think it was his business to care; three or four motions, which in old time would have been canvassed and discussed heartily (we fear lengthily) were proposed, and in some cases seconded; at the first motion, one gentleman exerted himself to get up and ask a question; the proposition for a cricket pavilion in the close attracted next to no attention; the last motion was fortunate enough to be both seconded and opposed, and was at last passed, by at least five ayes out of a levée of sixty, there being only three voices put to the pain and exertion of saying no. We are anything but in favour of long wordy debates at big-side levées: we should dislike to have any person, who considered himself bound to speak, on one side or other, on any and every question; and if there were such a big-side orator now, should decidely vote him hereditary seconder of every motion. But we should like to see some interest felt generally in school matters; and we must remind members of big side that when any legislative body grows incurably too indolent to do its work, the best thing that can happen is that it dies and gives place to some other form of government. An autocracy, by the head of the school, might be a very useful form of government; for he would at any rate act thoughtfully, and in most cases would not refuse to listen to advice, and would be liable to be pulled up at any moment for flagrant misgovernment. A good-sized managing committee has always, we believe, been found to work well here, and such a committee might very well be chosen at the beginning of a half-year, by big-side, to manage everything that would else come before big-side. This, supposing such a committee elected reasonably, and consisted of those who were most sensible amongst us, most willing to take trouble in, and most likely to know about, School matters, it would probably be found the most reasonable, most active, most satisfactory plan, for the conducting of all that refers to the games of the School. were PROGRESS.-The facts that we are constantly hearing of the state of our lower classes, and their dreadful intellectual debasement, may surely well make us look round us, before joining in the cry of progress, and hesitate a moment before we receive as a fact, that we are vastly superior to any other age; and qnestions such as these will force themselves upon us,-Have we progressed? and how? and even a passing doubt as to the necessity of progress at all: there is just a chance that we may have gone too far already. To the first of these questions we should undoubtedly answer "Yes," and state as our first example, Christianity,-and truly there we have progressed far beyond former ages; but |