Wonders that parents to Eton should send Five hundred great boobies their manners to mend, When the master that’s left it (though no one objects To his care of the boys in all other respects) Was extremely remiss, for a sensible man, In never contriving some elegant plan For improving their persons, and showing them how To hold up their heads, and to make a good bow, When they’ve got such a charming long room for a ball, Where the scholars might practise, and masters and all; But, what is much worse, what no parent would chuse-- He burnt all their ruffles and cut off their queues; So he quitted the school in the utmost disgrace, And just such another’s come into his place. [SN: A REVOLT] The “just such another” was Dr. Foster, who proved to be the very opposite of Barnard, and became highly unpopular, in great part owing to the considerable social disadvantage of his being the son of a Windsor tradesman. He was tactless and unfitted for his position, and the school did anything but prosper under his rule; indeed, the numbers dropped to 250. Meanwhile, the boys got quite out of hand, and several rebellions occurred, amongst them the famous secession of more than half the school--160 boys--to Maidenhead. One of the ringleaders of the outbreak was Lord Harrington, a boy of much natural spirit. He was foremost amongst those who threw their books into the Thames and marched away. Like the rest of the rebels he took an oath, or rather swore, he would be d----d if ever he returned to school again. When, therefore, he came to London to the old Lord Harrington’s and sent up his name, his father would only speak to him at the door, insisting on his immediate return to Eton. “Sir,” said the son, “consider I shall be d----d if I do!” “And I,” answered the father, “will be d----d if you don’t!” “Yes, my Lord,” replied the son, “but you will be d----d whether I do or no!” The revolt seems to have completely broken the Headmaster’s spirit; the school fell in numbers to 230, and in 1775 he made way for Dr. Davies, who ruled Eton for twenty years. Unlike his predecessor, Davies was not unpopular with the boys, but unfortunately he could not manage his assistants, with whom he quarrelled, and then attempted to manage the school alone. At that time Eton was largely composed of turbulent spirits, quick to see what glorious opportunities for riot lay at hand, and before long the unfortunate Davies was driven out of Upper School, pelted with books, and reduced to such a condition of despair that he was obliged to make terms with the other masters, who eventually did succeed in establishing something like order. His subsequent period of rule was more peaceful. During the middle portion of the eighteenth century a number of still existing Eton institutions flourished, though generally accompanied by quaint usages now obsolete. Referring, for instance, to “Tryals,” in 1766, Thomas James, describing the school curriculum, says:--