Confessions of an Etonian

Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and unusual spelling in the original document have been preserved.
A Table of Contents has been added for the readers convenience.
To preserve the past is half of immortality. D'Israeli the Elder.


The author is anxious to request any person who may meet with this trifling volume to bear in mind that it contains the memoir of an unworthy member of the place to which it alludes—that many years have now elapsed since he quitted the spot where its regulations with regard to education have been as much altered as improved. For Eton! my heart is thine though my shadow falls on a distant land. But should these pages influence the judgment of any mistaken but well-meaning parent, as to his son's future destination, the writer will hope that he has not exposed himself in vain.

Here's Harry crying! And on the instant, my brother awoke the elder ones to witness and enjoy the astounding truth.
What makes you think that? I replied, in as resolute a tone as a throat choking with anguish would admit of.
Why, you're crying now, added another brother; I see the tears shining in the moonlight.
Only a little, I at length admitted; and, satisfied with the concession, my numerous brethren composed themselves once more to sleep in the corners of the carriage, on their way to Eton, leaving my eldest brother's pointer and myself at the bottom, to our own reflections As for old Carlo, his still and regular breathing evinced that his mind was as easy and comfortable as his body, sagaciously satisfying himself with the evil of the day as it passed over him. Here Carlo had the advantage of me,—I anticipated the morrow. Strange and boisterous school-boys, tight-pantalooned ushers, with menacing canes, were, to my yet unsophisticated mind, anything but agreeable subjects for a reverie, and I felt proportionately doleful; I turned my thoughts on the past, and I was very miserable.