The great thick walls on each side display their blackened stones, and are pierced at the top with small, prison-like windows. These old walls seem to speak, for they are covered over as closely as possible with names--names of scholars, in large, well-cut, and very legible letters. There is something very significant in these records, some of very well known persons. The eye, almost at first, falls upon a bold, big-cut “E. IMPEY”--a boy who was to become Sir Elijah, and to figure so prominently with Warren Hastings. Formerly the boys used to climb up and cut their names anyhow and every how; now it is reduced to a prosaic and regular system: a payment of five shillings is made, and the appointed officer arrives with his tools and ladder, and does the job, which rather destroys the poetry of the thing. Some pretty music is being played of a soft, winning kind--the performers unseen--which lends a regular theatrical tone to the place. A lad in cap and gown and white tie and kid gloves emerges from the curtain and bends down to whisper to the Head Master, it is presumed to obtain formal leave to begin. This ceremony was repeated at the beginning of every act. Then the curtains are drawn aside, revealing the beautiful view of Athens, painted with much grace and skill by Mr. Cockerell, a combination between interior and exterior, which I believe to be the true mode of presenting a drama. Nothing could be better, more correct or realistic than the dresses. With the discoveries of pictures, mosaics, medals, etc., we can really now dress a Greek or Roman with the minutest accuracy and faithfulness. The hair, beards, etc., are trained with such wonderful accuracy so as to suggest the true antique type of face. The style of declamation was spirited and animated, much beyond what might be expected from youths. There was a solidity and gravity, and a total absence of fear and shyness. It would be affectation to say the meaning was followed by the audience, though at professedly humorous passages volleys of applause came from above, betokening the presence, even here, of a disciplined _claque_, who must have applauded upon signal. There were some grave and reverend pundits, who really understood and followed every word--masters _en retraite_, perhaps--and who were convulsed at every jest--though these seemed mild enough. At the close there was the epilogue, full of allusions to current topics. Altogether a very pleasing and interesting entertainment. There was a suggestion, throughout of collegiate associations, from the presence of the many gowned professors, canons, and others, who had only to walk across from their numerous little quaint old residences either in “the quad,” or the antique College Street or Dean’s Yard.