muses deserted their beloved Greece, with its incensebreathing fanes, and classic haunts. How true were the poet's strains :

A fairer isle than Britain, never sun
View'd in his wide career; a lovely spot
For all that life can ask.'

Alas! how greatly has she fallen!"

Here a pause of some duration ensued, for both were obviously too much affected to break the silence, until at length the young man exclaimed, "You have often promised me, Sir, to relate the causes of the rapid downfall and ruin of this illustrious people." "It is a subject," rejoined his friend, that excites most melancholy sensations in my breast; but as I have promised, I will overcome my feelings, and endeavour to gratify your request :

66

"There arose in that highly-favored land, from an obscure and scarcely perceptible origin, a sect, who maintained that all the noble institutions, to which England owed her prosperity and glory, were fundamentally erroneous, and that their own new-fangled doctrines were the only methods by which the country could be saved from the ruin which, as they averred, impended over her. By specious and plausible reasoning they gained many proselytes; and, although some of their doctrines were diametrically opposite, they contrived to support them by demonstrating that 'discordant parts composed an harmonious whole.' This odious sect so multiplied, in process of time, as to gain the chief management of affairs. (Then oh! ye Britons, ye passed the Rubicon.) The army was immediately disbanded, on the principle of philanthropy; the navy neglected and deserted, on the plea of universal benevolence; the colonies, the great source of Albion's immense wealth, were suffered to pine away in utter neglect; whilst the wise rulers at home were commiserating, in strains of mawkish sensibility, the dreadful sufferings of Negroes and Hottentots (whose only sufferings were, not being sufficiently enlightened to receive their pestilential ideas of government); until India, and the other settlements, following her example

threw off their allegiance, and erected themselves into independent states. The neighbouring kingdoms, taking advantage of Britain's defenceless condition, attacked and totally subverted her hitherto unconquerable power." "This, indeed, is a piteous tale," responded the young man; "I cannot help feeling a great desire to view the remains of this once-happy country; and if you can spare a few hours, we will take our seats at once in the instantaneous conducting baloon." "I am very willing to oblige you," said his friend; "but ever since the construction of the patent, centra-antipodinal* tunnel, I always go by that whenever I desire to visit the Antipodes. Go, then, and order the automaton footman to secure us two patent steam conveyances. We will descend the tunnel, and in a few hours we shall arrive at the ruins of London." Absolutely overwhelmed by amazement, I turned to enquire of the Genius where this grand tunnel was, when I found him gone, and in his place I recognized my own cheerful fire, and comfortable room. My first sensations were those of unqualified regret, at the abrupt termination of so interesting a dream. But heartfelt joy, and cheering delight, soon chased away these feelings, when I considered that my beloved country, "the sea-girt Britannia," still held the first rank amongst nations, and was still "the Virgin Queen of Ocean."

G. S.

The reader will easily imagine "Honest John Bull's vernacular" to have been considerably amplified in the course of a thousand years by the scientific Australasians.

MY VALE.

Fare thee well, and if for ever,
Still for ever fare thee well.-BYRON.

Ah! fare thee well! I too must say,
And for a long, and lengthen'd day.
Alas! that I am leaving all,
We love our mem❜ry to recall.
Thou unforgotten holy spot,

Farewell!-yet though I see thee not,
Remembrance still shall wander o'er
The scenes my footsteps tread no more.
Oft shall deluded fancy stray,
About the play spot far away;

I'll call up past delights in vain,
And think I am a child again.

For sweet the sacred thought that clings
To charms, which recollection brings;
That feeling we can not regret,
Whilst it forbids us to forget,

A thrilling we cannot define,

A hallow'd something, half divine-
When boyhood days are wholly past,
And they, alas! are fleeting fast.
(Sweet hours! I wish I could delay
The time that hurries so away.)
It may be mine to taste of bliss,
Joy that may equal even this-
And manhood may be gladly spent,
In splendid scenes or calm content.
While beaming smiles and festals gay
May join to crown my future day—
And wealth and honor these may bless,
But, childhood, shall I love thee less?
I'll think on thee, perchance to sigh,
For boyish happiness gone by-

Y

They 'll tell me, should they see me sad,
Of prospect bright, and promise glad.
But these, indeed, will scarce repay
The time that soon will pass away,
Though honor seems to be in store,
And all is bright, that is before.
The future!-'tis a pregnant sound,-
Does joy or misery abound?
Does woe allot its load of grief,
Or pleasure smile her kind relief?
Does anguish, with her redden'd eye,
Sit empress of my destiny?
Or fortune bid me not repine,
That boyish days no more are mine?
I almost wish that I could raise
The veil from off my future days,
And pierce the clouds that now conceal
My destin❜d lot of woe or weal.

I long to know if I shall find
Or joy, or misery behind;
But be it good, or be it ill,

I'll meet it as becomes me, still.
Once more, farewell-I shall not see,
But long will I remember, thee ;
The thought of thee will add delight
To pleasure, be it e'er so bright.
Thy mem'ry, too, to keenest grief
Shall bring a sure and calm relief;
In sorrow, honor, joy, regret,
Believe me, I will not forget.

C. DASHWOOD.

ALEXANDER BEHOLDING THE TOMB OF ACHILLES:

Being a Translation of a Latin Poem, by the
REV. H. H. MILMAN,

Ere manhood stamp'd the cheek of Philip's son, How great the fame his marshall'd deeds had won! At his command, fell Cadmus' lofty tow'r, And Pallas' Thebes had seen her latest hour: Listless of fame, and deaf to glory's sound, She lay, already prostrate, on the ground. But triumphs won, and nations crush'd of late, His soul contemn'd; inactive peace his hateThe fabled offspring of the gods above Too nobly prov'd his true descent from Jove! Could vanquish'd Europe sate his glowing mind, And leave no hopes of future wars behind? To him ambition held more pleasing charmsThe victor sought another world for arms. In vain, 'gainst him the Hellespontus roars, The tide is stemm'd, he nears the Asian shores. Th' empurpled nobles, and the royal band Of sceptre-bearing kings, whom Media's land Unnumber'd claim'd, the Grecian army dread, Nor less his name, who, Mars-like, fiercely led :