Through distant climes condemn'd to fly,
A pensive weary wanderer here?
Ah! hapless dame !1 no sire bewails,
No friend thy wretched fate deplores,
No kindred voice with rapture hails

Thy steps within a stranger's doors.

Perish the fiend whose iron heart,

To fair affection's truth unknown, Bids her he fondly loved depart, Unpitied, helpless, and alone; Who ne'er unlocks with silver key 2 The milder treasures of his soul, May such a friend be far from me,

And ocean's storms between us roll!

THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COLLEGE EXAMINATION.

HIGH in the midst, surrounded by his peers,
MAGNUS 3 his ample front sublime uprears:

Medea, who accompanied Jason to Corinth, was deserted by him for the daughter of Creon, king of that city. The chorus from which this is taken here addresses Medea; though a considerable liberty is taken with the original, by expanding the idea, as also in some other parts of the translation.

2 The original is Καθαρὰν ἀνοίξαντι κλῆρα φρενών ;" literally "disclosing the bright key of the mind."

3 No reflection is here intended against the person mentioned under the name of Magnus. He is merely represented as performing an unavoidable function of his office. Indeed, such an attempt could only recoil upon myself; as that gentleman is now as much distinguished by his eloquence, and the dignified propriety with which he fills his situation, as he was in his younger days for

Placed on his chair of state, he seems a god,
While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod.
As all around sit wrapt in speechless gloom,
His voice in thunder shakes the sounding dome;
Denouncing dire reproach to luckless fools,
Unskill'd to plod in mathematic rules.

Happy the youth in Euclid's axioms tried,
Though little versed in any art beside;
Who, scarcely skill'd an English line to pen,
Scans Attic metres with a critic's ken.

What, though he knows not how his fathers bled,
When civil discord piled the fields with dead,
When Edward bade his conquering bands advance,
Or Henry trampled on the crest of France,
Though marvelling at the name of Magna Charta,
Yet well he recollects the laws of Sparta;
Can tell what edicts sage Lycurgus made,
While Blackstone's on the shelf neglected laid;
Of Grecian dramas vaunts the deathless fame,
Of Avon's bard remembering scarce the name.

wit and conviviality. [Dr. William Lort Mansel was, in 1790, appointed to the headship of Trinity College, by Mr. Pitt. While a Bachelor of Arts, he distinguished himself as the author of several jeux d'esprit. Dr. Jowett, of Trinity Hall, having amused both himself and the public by a pretty little fairy garden, with narrow gravel walks besprinkled with shells and pellucid pebbles, and enclosed by a delicate Chinese railing, Dr. Mansel wrote the following lines thereon:

"A little garden little Jowett made,

And fenced it with a little palisade

If you would know the taste of little Jowett;
This little garden won't a little show it."

He was indebted to the influence of his pupil, the late Mr. Perceval, for his promotion, in 1808, to the see of Bristol. He is supposed to have materially assisted in the "Pursuits of LiteraHis Lordship died at Trinity Lodge in June, 1820.]

ture."

Such is the youth whose scientific pate
Class-honours, medals, fellowships, await;
Or even, perhaps, the declamation prize,
If to such glorious height he lifts his eyes.
But lo! no common orator can hope
The envied silver cup within his scope.
Not that our heads much eloquence require,
Th' ATHENIAN's glowing style, or Tully's fire.
A manner clear or warm is useless, since
We do not try by speaking to convince.
Be other orators of pleasing proud;

We speak to please ourselves, not move the crowd:
Our gravity prefers the muttering tone,

A proper mixture of the squeak and groan :
No borrow'd grace of action must be seen;
The slightest motion would displease the Dean; 2
Whilst every staring graduate would prate
Against what he could never imitate.

The man who hopes t' obtain the promised cup
Must in one posture stand, and ne'er look up;
Nor stop, but rattle over every word

No matter what, so it can not be heard.

Thus let him hurry on, nor think to rest :
Who speaks the fastest's sure to speak the best;
Who utters most within the shortest space
May safely hope to win the wordy race.

The sons of science these, who, thus repaid, Linger in ease in Granta's sluggish shade; Where on Cam's sedgy banks supine they lie, Unknown, unhonoured, live, unwept for die :

1 Demosthenes.

[In most colleges, the Fellow who superintends the chapel service is called Dean.]

Dull as the pictures which adorn their halls,
They think all learning fix'd within their walls:
In manners rude, in foolish forms precise,
All modern arts affecting to despise;

1

Yet prizing Bentley's, Brunck's, or Porson's 1 note,
More than the verse on which the critic wrote:
Vain as their honours, heavy as their ale,
Sad as their wit, and tedious as their tale;
To friendship dead, though not untaught to feel
When Self and Church demand a bigot zeal.
With eager haste they court the lord of power,
Whether 'tis Pitt or Petty rules the hour; 2
To him, with suppliant smiles, they bend the head,
While distant mitres to their eyes are spread.
But should a storm o'erwhelm him with disgrace,
They'd fly to seek the next who fill'd his place.
Such are the men who learning's treasures guard!
Such is their practice, such is their reward!

The present Greek professor at Trinity College, Cambridge; a man whose powers of mind and writings may, perhaps, justify their preference. [In a letter written in 1818, Lord Byron says,— "I remember to have seen Porson at Cambridge, in the hall of our college, and in private parties; and I never can recollect him except as drunk or brutal, and generally both: I mean in an evening; for in the hall he dined at the Dean's table, and I at the Vice-master's; and he then and there appeared sober in his demeanour; but I have seen him, in a private party of undergraduates, take up a poker to them, and heard him use language as blackguard as his action. Of all the disgusting brutes, sulky, abusive, and intolerable, Porson was the most bestial, as far as the few times I saw him went. He was tolerated in this state amongst the young men for his talents; as the Turks think a madman inspired, and bear with him. He used to recite, or rather vomit, pages of all languages, and could hiccup Greek like a Helot; and certainly Sparta never shocked her children with a grosser exhibition than this man's intoxication."-1818.]

2 Since this was written, Lord Henry Petty has lost his place, and subsequently (I had almost said consequently) the honour of representing the University. A fact so glaring requires no comment. [Lord Henry Petty is now (1836) Marquess of Lansdowne.]

This much, at least, we may presume to say
The premium can't exceed the price they pay.

1806.

TO A BEAUTIFUL QUAKER.
SWEET girl! though only once we met,
That meeting I shall ne'er forget;
And though we ne'er may meet again,
Remembrance will thy form retain.
I would not say, "I love," but still
My senses struggle with my will:
In vain, to drive thee from my breast,
My thoughts are more and more represt;
In vain I check the rising sighs,
Another to the last replies:
Perhaps this is not love, but yet
Our meeting I can ne'er forget.

What though we never silence broke,
Our eyes a sweeter language spoke;
The tongue in flattering falsehood deals,
And tells a tale it never feels:
Deceit the guilty lips impart,

And hush the mandates of the heart;
But soul's interpreters, the eyes,
Spurn such restraint, and scorn disguise.
As thus our glances oft conversed,
And all our bosoms felt rehearsed,
No spirit, from within, reproved us,
Say rather, "'t was the spirit moved us."
Though what they utter'd I repress,
Yet I conceive thou 'lt partly guess;