The Emperor Abdicates

To the boys of England's Eton, Headmaster Claude Aurelius Elliott was known as the Emperor. The son of a onetime lieutenant governor of Bengal, he seldom ventured too near his own little subjects; some boys went several years without ever meeting him at all. The Emperor was never ruffled when parents wondered why he paid no attention to their boy. "Unless he is a very outstanding figure in school life," he would tell them, "you can be glad I haven't."

His justice was swift--he could expel or cane offenders with the same sort of severity that has made Etonians tremble for five centuries. But he sometimes showed a compassion all his own. "That was a very understandable transgression," he would say to an offender, blinking sympathetically behind his spectacles. Then he would add: "One thousand lines," and send the boy to write out his punishment.

The slender Emperor believed, as an old Etonian should, in the classics in the classroom and pluck on the playing fields. During World War II he stood firm against parents who suggested that Eton should be moved to a place more remote from enemy bombs. If London's poor could not move from London, said the Emperor, Etonians would not move from Eton. Later, some bombs did fall, barely missing a library full of boys. But Eton did not move.

For 15 years, he ran Eton smoothly, and got its depression-ridden finances back into shape. Last week the Emperor announced that he would retire at the end of the summer term. To take Claude Elliott's place, the Provost and Fellows of Eton appointed a headmaster of a different kidney.

Robert Birley, at 45, is only 15 years younger than Elliott, but he might be of another generation. He believes that science is the backbone of a modern education, holds with few old school traditions, was a member of Britain's famed Fleming Committee to get underprivileged children into the public (i.e., private) schools. About the only break with tradition the Emperor had made was to abolish required top hats, and that was because of a shortage of toppers. Many Etonians were willing to bet that new Headmaster Birley might find some other Etonian practices old hat.

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