S.M.Toyne, Esq. z0.2 . I 49 4 12

By one you come to fame, by one to fate." And well could the ancient thoroughfare compare in age with the School, for one is studded by traditions, one, the road, with rocks.

But now 'tis gone, and nought to us remains but memory, of what has been, and also joy for that which is—a road.

DIDYMUS.

THE FIRST " PETERITE."

St. Peter's School has unconsciously possessed for many years a number of interesting records, which have recently been discovered after many years of concealment in dark places. These are the first " Peterites," the earliest number of which is dated March 3rd, 1834, and was printed by T. Weightman, of Goodramgate, York. It was then the St. Peter's Journal, consisting of two pages, which was edited once a fortnight. The first article is a letter by " The Chairman of the Club."

This society is a mystery.

They appear to do little but eat gigantic dinners at village inns, a description of which is printed in the 7th number of the paper dated May 26th of the same year. " The Club met " it says. Two-thirds only attended ; no business transacted—but racing, boating, cricketing, eating and drinking talked of. After the usual pros and cons, and " with respect Mr. Chairman " and " I beg leave " and " I humbly submit " and all that—the Club determined on a supper. No thoughts of the St. Peter's Journal. Turkey and ham, pro articles and ink ; duck, goose, and pie, pro printers, papers and business. Jove ! but our host of the " Bull and Snuffers " had provided gloriously !

Oh ! with what Epicurean ardour did we attack the red lobster, the cloud coloured oyster, and onioned rump steak—the cold joint and the hot joint. How greedily our nostrils inhaled the flavour of pickled cucumber, cayenne pepper, and Harvey-

sauce ! Many of the articles are written after the style of Swift and contain quite as much satire as any writer of his time.

There are meaningless riddles and witty sayings which were obviously very personal at the time and may have cost the editor a pugilistic display and perhaps a black eye.

They certainly became very unpopular for in the 6th number there is an indignant protest from the editors which starts " Our paper to be given up !" Who says so ? Not the editors—for they are writing for it with all their might. Not its readers—for they are devouring its pages. " Give our paper up !" What an idea !

Then it continues in a classical style, very popular with the editors, throughout the paper. " Why, my friend, whoever thou art that hast hinted such a thing, we can only say—where is thy common sense ? Are not our subscribers increasing ? Are not our numbers improving ? Why then in the name of wonder should we give up ?

At the end of this article there is a note headed :- " Subject for next paper's essay— REVENGE."

The editors may have been personal, but they certainly had a keen sense of humour.

On the front page of the 5th number and all those following is a woodcut of the choir school behind the Minster, then the buildings of St. Peter's School.

On Monday, May 12th, 1834, an unfortunate correspondent

sent a bill to the editors amounting to 2S. 21d. from which the following is an extract.

s. d.

May—To spoiling six sheets of post-paper in composing one article .. • •

o o 6 To a quarter of a hundred pens .. o I o To breaking mother's teapot in a fit of inspiration o 5 6 To lozenges for cough caught by standing on Bluebridge for purpose of better describing the green fields, water, etc. .. • • .. o York, May 12th, 1834.

THE FIRST PETERITE." 1169

The editors are ignorant as to whether this bill has been paid, but for 81 years they have been expecting those unwelcome gentlemen known as the bailiffs.

Our paper was instructive as well as amusing.

Every number of the St. Peter's Journal contains an essay, the first of which " The Love of our Country " is peculiarily appropriate to the present time.

It has a great meaning now. For this reason these words are once more to be found in the pages of a " Peterite." AMOR PATRIZE. The love of our Country. " The love of our country is implanted in us from the very moment of our birth—It is that which we imbibe with the air we breathe, and which is so natural to us as the affection which we feel for the nearest relation. It is a love which ennobles the soul, and softens it to receive the fairest impressions. Neither the toils of war, nor the severe campaign, neither banishment from its shores, nor the absence from the far distant land, can make us forget our country. The thought of his home, and all that is dear to him, can cheer the captive within the melancholy and dreary walls of his prison ; his chains feel lighter on him, and he is gladdened midst the gloomy misery around.

This alone infuses fortitude into the most timid, and, when inspired by it, the most cowardly is desirous of rushing into war ; he burns with an insatiable desire to fight for his country, and feels as confident as though he were invulnerable. It cheers the weary traveller, although tired and worn out by the length of his journey, and the hope of reaching his country adds new strength to his exhausted frame, and enables him to brave unheard-of perils. For his country the most affectionate husband will leave the darling of his affections, and plunge into all the horrors and dangers of battle. The patriot at home and the soldier abroad, are alike influenced by this love, which reigns paramount to all others. The chilling blast of poverty, and the most wretched situation cannot damp the patriot's love, No unextinguishable, unquenched shall it burn, from the moment