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MAY 2, 1857.

BOOKS.

TOM BROWN'S SOHOOL-DAYS.*

THE "Old Boy" has written a book which will interest almost equally thoughtful youths and genial men who look back to their youth with pleasure. Tom Brown's school is Rugby in the days of Dr. Arnold; and Tom 'Brown himself is a thoroughly Pmglish boy, full of kindliness, courage, vigour, and fun—no great adept at Greek and Latin but a first-rate cricketer, climber, and swimmer, fearless and skilful at foot-ball, and by no means averse to a good stand-up fight in a good cause. There is no story, strictly speaking ; but the interest depends on the growth of the boy's character, under the influences, first, of a capital rough training among the lads of his father's village, and afterwards, of the Rugby School. At the conclusion of Tom's school career the hook leaves him. It is therefore wholly concerned with the feelings and pursuits of boyhood ; and yet, as we have all been boys, that can scarcely be a reason for its not interesting grown persons. And its tone is so hearty, its good sense so strong and so thoroughly national, its morality so high and yet so simple and practical, that it must recommend itself as ono of the most delightful and at the same time true pictures of the better sort of schoolboy life ever yet published. We venture to prophesy for it an extended and permanent popularity, especially among public school boys and their families.

There is, we have said, no story ; but there is plenty of incident and plenty of dialogue, the daily life of an active happy set of ladi dramatized vividly. And though the author does not hesitato to introduce reflection and moralize upon the events he narrates in a tone of deep religious seriousness this is done with so much sincerity, and the piety is of that manly order, that not even an ordinary schoolboy of the present day will find himself wearied by it. On the other hand, the sports and pursuits, the feelings and characters of the boys, are painted with such striking truth and force, that a great deal more weight is given to the author's religious doctrine, so far as boys are concerned, by the fact they will not fail to notice, of this style of piety being perfectly consistent with and even stimulating to a hearty enjoyment of what they prize and value most. Tom Brown, without being in the least like what is ordinarily meant by a model boy—being in fact at one time in danger of turning out a harum-scarum young vagabond—becomes what most English gentlemen would, if they were wise, pray that their sons might be rather than first-rate scholars ; though there is no reason in nature why Tom should not have added a little more Greek and Latin to his stores. When Tom's father the Squire takes him to school, he is rather puzzled what advice to give him. His meditations on the subject arc thus summed up.

"I won't tell him to read his Bible, and love and serve God ; if he don't do that for his mother's sake and teaching, he won't for mine. Shall I go into the sort of temptations he'll meet with ? No, I can't do that. Never do for an old fellow to go into such things with a boy. He won't understand me. Do him more harm than good, ten to one. Shall I tell him to mind his work, and say he's sent to school to make himself a good scholar ? Well, but he isn't sent to school for that—at any rate not for that mainly. I don't care a straw for Greek particles, or the γ no more does his mother. What is he sent to school for ? Well, partly because he wanted so to go. If he'll only turn out a brave, helpful, truth-telling Englishman, and a gentleman and a Christian, that's all I want."

And that he gets. How the process is wrought, not of changing a bad boy into a good one, but of training good raw material to finialied usefulness—of saving it from running to waste, of bringing the boyish vivacity under discipline without crushing it, developing noble impulses into high principles' good-nature into manly character—forms the element of interest in the book which will chiefly attract grown people, especially those to whom education assumes the aspect of the most important of practical problems. The strong wise government of Dr. Arnold at Rugby is admirably exemplified without being dwelt upon unduly as regards the dramatic interest of the book. The author almost worships the Doctor, as so many of his better pupils learnt to do ; but this feeling is not disagreeably obtruded on the reader ; and, so far as it does appear, is so genuine, so heartfelt and spontaneous, and is besides so justified even to those who know nothing of Arnold but what they have learnt from his Life by Stanley, that the ordinary reaction against the exaggerations of hero-worships when a schoolboy is the worshiper has no operation. As a 'book from which schoolmasters may learn lessons of wise government, and parents see in a vivid representation the sort of community which one of our great public schools forms, Tom Brown's School-Days may be as useful and instructive as it is pleasant and attractive reading. It is exactly the book we would put into a foreigner's hands to give him a notion of what generally puzzles him more than almost anything he observes among us—the union of order and free • Torn Brown's School-Days. By an Old Boy. Published by mac:tango, Cambridge. dom which distinguishes our public schools and older universities ; that union to which an acute political observer like Montalembert is not far wrong in attributing some of the most valuablci characteristics that mark the aristocratic and professional ranks of society in England, and that have made our history what it is.

Our available space for extracts is not large, and in such a book as this it is not easy to find short passages of independent interest. Perhaps the tone of the book may be tolerably well indicated in the following speech, delivered after a great foot-ball match at Rugby, by the leader of the School-house side, on the evening of the day of Tom Brown's first arrival at school. The speaker is "Pater Brooke," and the time shortly before his leaving school ; the speech, in reply to his health.

"'Gentlemen of the School-house--I am very proud of the 'way in which you have received my name, and I wish I could say all I should like in return. But I know I shan't. However, I'll do the beet I can to say what seems to me ought to be said by a fellow who's just going to leave, and who has spent a good slice of his life here. Eight years it is, and eight such years as I can never hope to have again. So now I hope you'll all listen to me—(Loud cries of " I.'hat we will !")—for I'm going to talk seriously. You're bound to listen to me, for what's the use of calling me "pater," and all that, if you don't mind what I say ? • And I'm going to talk seriously because I feel so. It's a jolly time too, getting to the end of the half, and a goal kicked by us first day—('fromendous applause)—after one of tho hardest and fiercest days' play. I can remember in eight years. (Frantic, shootings.) The school played splendidly too, I will say, and kept it up to the last. That last charge of theirs would have carried away alaouse. I never thought to see anything again of old Crab there, except little pieces, when I saw him tumbled over by it. (Laughter and shouting, and great slapping on the back of Jones by the boys nearest him.) Well, but we beat 'em. (Cheers.) A3-, but why did we beat 'em ? answer Inc that. (Shouts of "Your play !") Nonsense. 'Moen' t thowind and kick-off either, that wouldn't do it. 'Twasn't because we've half-a-dozen of the best players in the school, as we have. I wouldn't change Warner and Hedge and Crab, and the young 'un, for any six on their side. (Violent cheers.) But. halfa-dozen fellows can't keep it up for two hours against two hundred. 'Why is it, then ? tell you what I think. It's because we've more. reliance on one another, more of a house feeling, more 'fellowship than the school can hive. Each of us knows and can depend on his next hand man better —that's why we beat 'ern today. We've union, they've division ; there's the secret. (Cheers.) But how's this to be kept up ? how's it to be improved? That's the question. For I take it, we're all in earnest about beating the school, whatever else we care about. I know I'd sooner win two School-house matches running than get the Balla Scholarship any day,. (Frantic cheers.) Now I'm as proud of the house as any one. I believe it's tho best house in the school, out-and-out. (Cheers.) But it's a long way front what I want to see it. First, there's a deal of bullying going on. I know it well. I don't pry about and interfere; that only makes it more underhand, and encourages the small boys to come to us with their fingers in their eyes telling tales, and so we should be worse off than ever. It's very little kindness for the sixth to meddle generally ; you youngsters mind that. You'll be all the better foot-ball players for learning to stand it, and to tako your own parts, and tight it through. But depend on it, there's nothing breaks up a house like bullying. Bullies ire cowards, and one coward makes many ; so good-by to the School-house match if bullying gets ahead here. (Loud applause from the small boys who look meaningly at Flashman and other boys at the tables.) Then there's a fuddling about in the public-house, and drinking bad spirits and punch, and such rot-gut stuff. That won't make good drop-kicks or chargers of you, take my word for it. You get plenty of good beer here, and that's enough for you ; and drinking isn't fine or manly, whatever some of you may think of it. " One other thing I must have a word about. A lot of you think and say, for I've heard you, 'There's this new Doctor hasn't been here so long as some of us, and he's changing all the old customs. Rugby, and the School-house especially, are going to the dogs. Stand up for the good old ways, and down with the Doctor!' Now, I'm as fond of old Rugby customs and ways as any of you, and I've been here longer than any of you ; and I'll hive you a word of advice in time, for I shouldn't like to see any of you getting sacked. Down with the Doctor l's easier said than done. You'll find him pretty tight on his porch, I take it, and an awkwardieh customer to handle in that line. Besides, now, what customs has he put down ? There was the good old custom of taking the lynch-pins out of the farmers' and bagmen's gigs at the fairs' and a cowardly blackguard custom it was. We all know what came of it, and no wonder the Doctor objected to it. But, come now, any of you, name a custom that he has put down ? ' " 'The hounds ! calls out a fifth-form boy, clad in a green cutaway with brass buttons and cord-trousers, the leader of the sporting interest, and reputed a great rider and keen hand generally. " Well, we had six or seven mangey harriers and beagles belonging to the house, I'll allow, and had had them for years, and that the Doctor put them down. But what good ever came of them? Only rows with all the keepers for ten miles round; and Big-side hare and hounds is better fun ten times over. What ciao?'

"No answer.

"'Well, I won't go on. Think it over for yourselves; you'll find, I believe, that he don't meddle with any one that's worth keeping. And mind now, I say again, look out for squalls, if you will go your own way and that way ain't the Doctor's, for it'll lead to grief. You all know that I'm not the fellow to back a master through thick and thin. If I saw bun stopping foot-ball, or cricket, or bathing, or sparring, I'd be as ready as any fellow to stand up about it. But he don't—he encourages them ; didn't you see hhn out today for half-an-hour watching us ?—(Loud cheers for the Doctor)—and he's a strong true man, and a wise one too, and a publicschool man too. (Cheers.) And so let's stick to him„ and talk no more rot., and drink his health as the head of the house. (Loud cheers.) And now I've done blowing up, and very glad I am to have clone. But it's a solemn thing to be thinking of leaving a place which one has lived in and loved for eight years; and if any one can say sword for the good of the old house at such a time, why it should be said, whether bitter or sweet. III hadn't been proud of the house and you—ay, no one knows how proud—I shouldn't be blowing you up. And now let's .get to Hinging. But before I sit down I must give you a toast, to be drunk with three times three and all the honours. It's a toast which I hope every one of us, -wherever he may go hereafter, will never fail to drink when he thinks of the brave bright days of his boyhood. It's a toast which should bind us all together, and to those who've gone before, and who'll come after us here. It is the dear old School-house--the beet house of the best school in England !' " Here too is a pleasant exhibition of the famous Doctor in relation to the lesser irregularities of his boys, as well as a bright glimpse of a happy family circle. "Five minutes afterwards, three small limping shivering figures steal along through the Doctor's garden and into the house by the servants' entrance, (all the other gates have been closed long since,) where the first thing they light upon in the passage is old Thomas, ambling along, candle in one hand and keys in the other. "He stops and examines their condition with a grim smile. ! East, Hall, and Brown, late for locking-up. Must go up to the Doctor's study at once.'

"'Well, but, Thomas, mayn't we go and wash first ? You can put down the time, you know.' " Doctor's study d'rectly you come in—that's the orders,' replied old Thomas, motioning towards the stairs at the end of the passage which led up into the Doctor's house ; and the boys turned ruefully down it, not cheered by the old verger's muttered remark, What a pickle they boys be in.' Thomas referred to their faces and habiliments, but they construed it as indicating the Doctor's state of mind. Upon the short flight of stairs they pause to hold counsel.

" go in first ? ' inquires Tadpole.

"'You—you're the senior,' answered East.

"'Catch me ; look at the state I'm in,' rejoined Hall, showing the arms of his jacket. ' I must get behind you two.'

"'Well, but look at me,' said East, indicating the mass of clay behind which he was standing; I'm worse than you, two to one ; you might grow

cabbages on my trousers.'

"'That's all down below, and you can keep your legs behind the sofa,'

said Hall.

"'Here, Brownt you're the show-figure—you must lead.' " But my face Is all muddy,' argued Tom.

" ' Oh, we're all in one boat for that matter : but come on, we're only making it worse dawdling here.'

• " Well, just give us a brush then,' said Tom ; and they began trying to rub off the superfluous dirt from each other's jackets : but it was not dry enough, and the rubbing made it worse ; so in despair they pushed through the awing-door at the head of the stairs, and found themselves in the Doctor's hall.

"'That's the library-door,' said East in a whisper, pushing Tom forwards. The sound of merry voices and laughter came from within, and his first hesitating knock was unanswered. But at the second, the Doctor's voice said, Como in!' and Tom turned the handle, and he, with the others behind him, sidled into the room. "The Doctor looked up from his task ; he was working away with a great chisel at the bottom of a boy's sailing-boat, the lines of which he was no doubt fashioning on the model of one of Nicias'a galleys. Round him stood three or four children ; the candles burned brightly on a large table at the further end, covered with books and papers, and a great fire throw a ruddy glow over the rest of the room. All looked so kindly and homely and comfortable, that the boys took heart in a moment, and Tom advanced from behind the shelter of the great sofa. The Doctor nodded to the children ; who went out, casting curious and amused glances at the three young scarecrows.

"'Well, my little fellows,' began the Doctor' drawing himself up, with his back to the fire the chisel in one hand and his coat-tails in the other, and his eye twinkling as he looked them over, what makes you so late ? ' " Please, sir, we've been out Big-side hare-and-hounds, and lost our way.'

Huh ! you couldn't keep up, I suppose ? ' "'Well, sir,' said East, stepping out, and not liking that the Doctor should think lightly of his running powers, 'we got round Barby all right, but then— '

"'Why what a state you're in, my boy,' interrupted the Doctor, as the pitiful condition of East's garments was fully revealed to him.

"'That's the fall I got, sir, in the road,' said East, looking down at himself; the Old Pig came by—' " 'The what ? ' said the Doctor.

"'The Oxford coach, sir,' explained Hall. " ! yes, the Regulator, said the Doctor. "'And I tumbled on my face, trying to get up behind,' went on East. " ' You're not hurt, I hope,' said the Doctor. " Oh no, sir.'

"'Well now, run up-stairs, all three of you' and got clean things on, and then tell the housekeeper to give you some tea. You're too young to try q such lone runs. Let Warner know I've seen you. Good night.' 'Good night, sir.' And away scuttled the thine boys in high glee."

We heartily congratulate the author, who withholds his name, on a decided success. He has produced a book which will amuse, delight, and elevate boys, and at the same time is worthy of being placed on the same shelf with Stanley's Life of Arnold, as a memorial of a wise man and a singularly successful governor and teacher of boys.