HORE SARISBURIENSES. Nov. 7. One o'clock, P.M.-I took a solitary walk Met my friend, G. Seymour, who proposed that there should be set on foot, in our school, a pamphlet, to which those of our school-fellows, who chose, should contribute. Was considerably startled at this proposition, and begged time for mature deliberation. Nov. 8.-Twelve o'clock.-During this interval never once forgot our grand scheme. By day, various were the plans, the hopes, and the fears, that agitated my mind; by night, books, paper, pens, and portfolios, were the subjects of my dreams. Fired with a cacoethes scribendi, anxious to see and possess the lucubrations of my school-fellows, yet fearful as to what opinion the chief authority may form, and unable to persuade myself that it would meet with a favourable reception in our little world, I was strangely perplexed between two opinions. My time for consideration was now expired. G. Seymour came to know the result. Whether from the lengthened appearance of my visage, he expected my dissent; or whether with a view to encourage me, I know not; but, with a hearty grasp of the hand, he said, Come, come, you must not oppose me; I am promised willing support from many of the best amongst us." I breathed again: hope smiled with bewitching charm; unconsciously, though cordially, I returned his sh ake of the hand, and promised my humble, but diligent exertions. Mem. Agreed to have a meeting on the subject to-morrow. B Our proWas elected With what Nov. 9.-The meeting was fully attended. ject had evidently excited great interest. editor, with G. Seymour and C. Liddel. sensations of tremor do I add so weighty an appellation to my name ! But trusting to the kind correction and assistance of my brothers in office, and assured that their bright abilities will compensate for my defects, I here willingly commence, and in honour pledge myself diligently to persevere in my labours on behalf of the "HORE SARISBURIENSES;" and, with three cheers for its brilliant success, I here, gentle reader, take my leave. KENYON. NIL NOVUM. SIR,-You request us to write something original, and doubtless expect new subjects. We may fairly answer nothing is new. The same feelings and affections, the same passions and inclinations, have in all ages, and throughout every clime, been experienced by the frail descendants of Adam. One all-powerful Being has from all eternity swayed the sceptre of the universe; and, to men, widely separated from each other by time or space, has allotted the same dispositions and sentiments. How many Alexanders are there at this present day; spirits ardent and generous; determined upon the pursuit of pleasure and ambition; bent upon overthrowing every thing which may oppose their career. How many exact counterparts of the miserly host in Horace, can we not discover, upon a very slight investigation of the characters with which we are acquainted. The egotist, the glutton, the gambler, are not the productions of this age in particular; they have been, and will continue, the same for ever. Among, then, so many men of every disposition, who must in their writings touch upon so many various subjects, it is next to an impossibility to treat of any theme which has not already arrested the attention of abilities far superior to those which gave birth to this production. G. W. 2 NASCITUR POETA.-MARTIAL. AMONG those whose bright emanations of poetical genius have adorned this happy and favoured land, Shakspeare has been allowed by all, to occupy a most distinguished rank. It may not, therefore, be considered improper, to enquire, by what peculiar merit he has gained, and through the lapse of centuries preserved, those bright and unfading laurels, which enwreath his venerable brows. Some may, and undoubtedly have, excelled him in fanciful invention, in elegance of versification, or in harmony of numbers; but in his close and inimitable descriptions of nature, none have ever yet rivalled him: In this consists his peculiar excellence; for whatever characters he has delineated, they are strictly and invariably faithful pictures of mankind, such as men always have been, and always will be; consequently, as long as true taste reigns in the world, so long will Shakspeare be an object of universal admiration. Though perfect characters, owing to our inherent love of novelty, might please for a time, yet, for the very same reason, they will soon sink into oblivion, for it is on the truth of nature alone that the mind can feed inexhaustibly. Another pre-eminent beauty in our author is the expressive, forcible, and natural manner in which he has depicted the various passions of the human breast. Should there be any one who may entertain the slightest doubt on this subject, I would advise him to peruse those magnificent master-pieces of genius, Othello and Macbeth, and if he does not then see the strong workings of the passions, he must indeed be wilfully blind. What an unpardonable omission should I here be guilty of, were I to pass by that singularly beautiful play, the Merchant of Venice, where sullen solemnity, dark malevolence, and terrifying ferocity, are so clearly, so accurately, and so forcibly described. From these two grand causes, just as the branches spring from the trunk, arise those numerous poetical and moral beauties which crowd |