measles, whooping-cough, widowerhood. True, it was possible that men speak the truth, and that marriage brings not happiness but misery, yet that was not certain, and the step not worth the risk. I determined not to marry. "Then I took my money in hand. What should I do with it? Throw it into the sea? No! I would let mankind have it, and it would make someone happy, and thus enhance my misery, acting as a foil. I scattered it in Whitechapel, well knowing that it would filter back to the West End and render some landowner more obnoxious to evil. "I was by no means yet thoroughly miserable. My degraded nature fought fiercely against the weaning from books, that my will next determined on. Why were there libraries? They are a curse. Many times I yielded to the temptation and, plunged in a book, became oppressively happy, infallibly incurring the caustic annoyance of closing-time, when the clerk came and turned out the light, in the middle of a sentence. "Alas! I shall never reach my ideal in this life. It is utterly impossible to live without being happy. One must either work or starve, and if he works he is dependent on his employer, so that, all the time. that he is imagining himself to be supremely miserable, he is obnoxious to a very substantial evil, namely discharge. "The curve of my existence has many times approached the asymptote and almost seemed to touch, but again happiness has been forced upon me and I have taken it for lack of alternatives. "I rejoice to say my friends are all gone. No death can touch me now; my own were a welcome event, for there may be perfect misery beyond the grave. For a long time I have been growing yellower and more hideous, I rejoiced to see to-day that a fellowcreature looked away from me with loathing. There is no epithet at all that could raise me to greater misery, so near the top am I. "Glorious it is when you travel not to have boxes and bags with you, more glorious not to be able to travel at all; still that scarcely makes you miserable when you have nowhere that you wish to go—nothing and no one that you wish to see. "It is fine to be without the worry of landladies, though one has not even the pleasure of regretting them, when the sky is open and the air is warm. It is on winter nights that misery is more complete, when the chill air bites the bone and the pouring rain rots the skin. Yet bridge-walls and embankments are a vile nuisance. To whatever pitch of philosophy one may have attained, the animal nature in one will creep under the lee of shelter when it snows at night, thus rendering one a prey to the evil presented by a policeman, with his lantern and his ' move on.' If bridges and balustrades and embankments were swept away, and if it could be so arranged that it rained heavily every night, I begin to think one might be almost perfectly miserable, but it must be every night, or sometimes, when the sky was clear and the stars twinkled, one would be in danger of being happy." "But," I suggested, interrupting, I fear, "if you should ever become thoroughly and exquisitely miserable, will you not then be obnoxious to the evil of happiness? will it not be in the power of every philanthropist and good-natured busybody to torture you by taking your misery away?" The only answer I received was "H'm!" G. G. D. TO MY POETS. Farewell, a little while farewell, companions of my youth, The music of whose songs has cheered the rugged paths of truth. I may not wake that music now, it slumbers in its cell; How often I have proved your power to calm the restless thought, To soothe the weariness of heart the toils of day had brought; How oft when night brought rest again I felt your potent spell; I listened, and grew strong again-a little while farewell. For other friends have claimed the place from which you pass to-night; Erudite Stubbs, and Erskine May, with Hallam, Green, and Bright, And Freeman, freeing slave enchained by Coote's misguided zeal, And Bluntschli with his plan to make the Perfect Commonweal. You sing of rivers as they flow rejoicing to the deep, Or trees that murmur in the wind, or sunny hills that sleep. Farewell to-day. As years go by, the time will come at last When Stubbs and Hallam, Gneist and Maine are buried in the past: Then when at night I cease my toil in haunts of want and pain, I shall return, and bid you sing the old loved songs again. J. H. B. M. OUR INDEX TO THE EAGLE. HIS Index to vols. I-XV has been drawn up under the supervision of the Editorial Com mittee to commemorate the completion of the first thirty years of the Magazine's existence. The work has occupied nearly two years, and great pains have been taken to make it as perfect as possible. The first part gives in alphabetical order the signatures and pseudonyms used by the contributors to the Magazine, with lists of the articles corresponding to each. Then the Chronicle, which records the doings of a generation of Johnians, is minutely indexed, every name that occurs finding its place either in the general list or in those referring to the several clubs and societies connected with the College. Misprints in the text have been corrected, and missing initials have been supplied, so far as the information at the disposal of the Editors permitted. Lastly, for convenience of reference, a complete alphabetical list of the titles of the literary contributions is appended. Among the signatures of contributors one may find the names or initials of many present members of our Foundation from the Master downwards. Many of the other signatures are of no less interest. Some recall men such as Professor Kennedy, Canon T. S. Evans, Professor E. H. Palmer, F. A. Paley, W. A. Forbes, J. H. Clark, S. S. Lewis, who have been removed from us by death: others link us with representatives of our College still active in the outer world, such as Mr Bowling (our familiar "Arculus "), Dr E. A. Abbott, Archdeacon J. M. Wilson, Dr * May be ordered of Mr Merry, at the Buttery, St John's College. Price half-a-crown. VOL. XVII. I Augustus Jessopp, Mr J. W. Ebsworth, Mr C. Stanwell, Canon H. Kynaston, Professor C. Pritchard, Professor W. H H. Hudson, and Mr Page of the Charterhouse. Perhaps some day we may try to compile (if only for editorial reference) a key to the pseudonymous signatures. The Index to the names in the Chronicle occupies all but 60 pages. It is interesting to note the relative space taken by the different College Clubs. Lady Margaret requires 17 columns, the Athletic Club 7, Football 6, Cricket 5, Lawn Tennis 2 (or including the Eagles and the extinct Fireflies' the extinct Fireflies' Clubs 5), Lacrosse 1. All Football names come in one list, but the addition of an a or any marks whether the player followed Association or Rugby rules. The earlier names in the list belong to a period previous to the sharp division between the two games. Of other College institutions the Debating Society takes 3 columns, the Musical Society 2, the extinct Shakespeare Society 14, the Theological Society a column. It is amusing to note which surnames occur with most frequency in our annals. Smith comes easily first. Of this family 25 individuals find a mention : then Brown and Jones form a bracket of two with 15 each. Wilson claims 12, Williams 11, Taylor and Evans are bracketed with 10, Adams, Bennett, and Hill with 9. Marshall and Walker occur 8 times, Browne and Hall 7. Why it should be commonly supposed that Robinson takes rank with Smith, Brown, Jones remains a mystery. Only 5 Robinsons figure in our list of thirty years. The Editors hope that the Index will be welcomed not only by the subscribers to the Magazine, but by all who take interest in the history of the College and its members. They would adopt the words used by their predecessors in the first number, and trust that the Eagle may continue to be 'a rallying point and a watchword among us; something to fasten College spirit upon when here; something by which we can carry it down with us when we go away.' |