only longer, and required to be verses, of the most flowing melomore correct.

dy, and frequently of no little poThe upper school is divided into etical elevation. The Greek Tese four forms ; the fourth, the fifth, tament is read in Easter week, the shell, the sixth, or the upper and Grotius*, with copious compart of it, which is called the scv- ments by the master, to infuse enth, generally filled by the seniour proper religious sentiments, on king's scholars. In the fourth, are every Monday morning.f read Virgil, Cæsar's Commenta- 5. I now come to my last conries, and the Greek Testament, sideration. The vacations are with the Greek grammar, not three times a-year. Three weeks taught in any of the under forms. at Christmas, when the king's On Thursdays, the boys turn Mar- scholars perform one of Terence's tial's Epigrams into long and short plays ; the same portion of time verses, and on Saturdays, do a verse at Whitsuntide, and five weeks at exercise from the Bible with the Bartholomewtide. It must be conrest of the upper school. In the fessed, there is here no waste of fifth, are read the same books, with time ; the boys being, moreover, the addition of the Greek epi- employed in long repetitions, and grammatists, some part of Homer holiday tasks, during the vacation. and Sallust. On Monday, a Latin The expenses of the boardingtheme, on Wednesday, an English houses are generally from thirty one, or an abridgment from some to thirty-five guineas per annum, prose author is read in the form ; and the utmost sum paid to the on Thursdays, they turn the odes masters is seven guineas. of Horace into another metre,

I will now venture to assert, generally into hexameters and pen

that no man can educate his son tameters ; on Saturdays, Bible- at a private school in so moderate exercise throughout the school. a manner, particularly if he be In the shell, the same course is

sent to Westminster as a day. pursued,except, that the onlyGreek scholar. I have now made menauthor read, is Homer. In the tion of all that occurs to me. I sixth and seventh, where the head should certainly, however, not have master presides, the higher Greek resisted this opportunity of dwelland Latin authors are all read ing on the strict and most exemsuch as Sophocles, Euripides, De- plary mode of religious education mosthenes, sometimes #schylus : pursued at Westminster, but that Horace, Juvenal, Cicero, Livy, I can refer my readers to a much Sallust, &e. It would be tedious better account of it in the late Vinto run over all the books, and the dication of the Dean of Westmindifferent times when they are in- ster.

T. L. troduced ; it will be sufficient to add, that a boy who has passed the master takes this opportunity of

• Grotius merely serves as a peg: through the sixth form will find discussing the fundamental doctrines no difficulty in any Latin or Greek of Christianity, and well-grounding the author whatever. Here the verse boys in them. exercises are carried to the highest + The upper boys, in their turns, perfection, and a boy will produce, speak publickly in the school on every an alcaick ode, or thirty or forty, glish poets. for his Saturday's Bible exercise, Friday, sometimes in Latin, often in sometimes a hundred hexameter Vol. III. No. 12.

4 I

ORIGINAL POETRY.

For the Monthly Anthology.

MONODY,

TO THE MEMORY OF GEN. HENRY KNOX.

WITH all of nature's gift, and fortune's claim,
A soul of honour, and a life of fame,

A warrior-chief, in victory's field renown'd,

A statesman, with the wreath of virtue crown'd.

SUCH, KNOX, WERT THOU....shall truth's immortal strain
Recal thy deeds, and plead their worth in vain ?
Sacred and sainted 'mid yon starry sky,

In vain shall friendship breathe her holiest sigh.
Where is that pity known thy life to share,
Softening the beams by glory blazoned there?
Lost like thy form, with that unconscious grown,
Of all thy living virtues called their own!
Ne'er shall that smile its speaking charm impart
To win the angered passions from the heart;
No more that voice, like musick, seem to flow,
Kind in its carings for another's woe,
But round thy tomb despair will live to weep,
Cold as the cearments of thy marble sleep.

Yet wert thou blest. Ere age with chill delay
Quenched of the fervid mind its sacred ray,
Fate called thee hence....Nor nature's late decline
Saw thy full-lustred fame forbear to shine;
Called thee with many a patriot earth-approved,
With heroes by the QUEEN OF EMPIRES loved:
While on that world of waters victory gave,
Immortal Nelson gained a glorious grave;
When PITT, the soul of Albion, reached the skies,
And saw the RIVAL OF HIS GENIUS rise,
Fox, loved of fame...a nation's guide and boast,
His voice sublime mid wondering plaudits lost.
These, like thyself, for godlike deeds admired,
In the green autumn of their years retired.
Hence shall their kindred spirits blend with thine,
And mingling, in collected radiance shine.
Honoured in life, in death to memory dear,
Not hopeless falls the tributary tear.
For what is death but life's beginning hour,
The good man's glory, and the poor man's power;
Banquet of every bliss we taste below,

Source of the hope we feel, the truth we know.
Then not for thee, mild shade, the grief be given;
For thee, beloved on earth, approved in heaven,
All that thy life revered thy death supplies,

TO LIVE WITH ANGELS, AND IN GOD TO RISE.
December, 1806.

For the Monthly Anthology.

ERIN.

BEHIND the misty brow of yonder hill,
Beside a stream that turns the village mill,
Remote from worldly care and courtly strife,
Once honest Erin led a peaceful life.
Brisk as the bee that sucks the fragrant dew,
He hied afield the stubborn oak to hew;
Or, when rough winter left the leafless bower,
And smiling spring came on in sunny shower;
Jocund he drove the patient ox to toil,
And broke with lagging plough the loosen'd soil.
Oft the lone beat of yonder chapel bell,
That tolld for fresty age the passing knell,
Allur'd the ruddy swain, with moisten'd brow,
To taste the luncheon spread on wheaten mow.
And when behind the hills the sun withdrew,
And noisy swallows to their lodging few,
Before his cot, or near some rushy stream,
That faintly twinkled 'neath the silver gleam,
While perfum'd breezes in the tree-tops plays,
Fanning the air as weary light decay'd ;
With merry reed he made the rustick gay,
Returning home at close of busy day.
But hush'd the strain that gladden'd all the plain
And cheer'd with simple notes the homeward swain ;
For now away beneath yon scraggy thorn,
Where nightly sits the bird of eve forlorn,
And tall weeds wave, as sighs the hollow gale,
And gently swells the green sod in the dale,
Releas'd from all this little world's alarms,
He sleeps secure in death's oblivious arms.

Blest was bis toil with crops of golden grain, And Erin grew in wealth, and rose in name. But, ah, that pleasing rest, which wealth imparts, Too oft unnerves the frame, unmans our hearts. So far'd it now with late our honest clown ; In ease repos'd he thoughtless sought the town, And loitering day by day, a prey to harm, He left unplough'd the field, unsown the farm. The moments few. His happy days were gone, Swift as the beam that scales the saffron morn ; And now gloom'd round, with chilling frost combin'd, Cold want, that ragged rustled in the wind.

The storm blew bleak, and drifting fast the snow, When Erin left the vale opprest with wo; Remorse with rankling tooth his bosom tore, And wild with grief he saw his home no more.

Dec. 20, 1806.

To the Editors of the Monthly Anthology. GENTLEMEN,

The following Poem was presented to me by a literary female friend at Liver pool, with an assurance it was copied from the manuscript of Walter Scott.

G.

HELVELLYN.

In the spring of 1805, a young gentleman of talents, and a most amiable disposition,

perished, by losing his way, on the mountain Helvellyn ; the remains were not discovered until three months afterwards, when they were found guarded by a faithful terrier, his constant attendant during frequent solitary rambles through the wilds of Cumberland and Westmorelan

I climb'd the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn,
Lakes and mountains beneath the gleam'd misty and wide ,
All was still....save, by fits, when the eagle was yelling-
And starting around me, the echoes replied.
On the left striden edge round the red tarn was bending,
And Catchediccim its right verge was defending,
And one huge nameless rock in the front was ascending,
When I mark'd the sad spot where the wanderer died,

Dark green was that spot ’mid the brown mountain's heatherg
Where the pilgrim of nature lay stretch'd in decay ;
Like the corpse of an outcast, abandon’d to weather,
'Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay.
Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended,
For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended,
The much lov'd remains of his master defended,
And chac'd the hill fox and the ravens away.

How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber?
When the wind wav'd his garments, how oft didst thou start!
How many long days and long nights didst thou number,
Ere he faded before thee...the friend of thy heart ?
And ah ! was it meet that, no requiem read o'er him,
No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him,
And thou, little guardian, close stretched before him,
Unhonour'd, the pilgrim from life should depart ?

When a prince to the fate of a peasant has yielded,
The tapestry waves dark round the dim-lighted hall,
With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded,
And pages stand mute in the canopied hall.
Through the vault at deep midnight the torches are gleaming,
In the proudly arch’i chapel the banners are beaming,
Far adown the long aisle saered musick is streaming,
Lamenting a chief of the people should fall.
But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature,
To lay down thy head like the incek mountain lamb,

When wilderd he drops from some cliff huge in stature,
And draws his last sob by the side of his dam :
And more stately thy couch by this desart lake lying,
Thy obsequies sung by the grey plover flying,
With but one faithful friend to witness thy dying
In the arms of Helvellyn and Catchediccim.

For the Anthology.

NEW-YEAR'S ADDRESS

OF

THE CARRIER OF THE ANTHOLOGY.

Hunc... diem numera meliore lapillo,
Qui tibi labentes apponit candidus annos ;
Funde merum genio.....

Pers. Sat. ad

List to 'a simple lad ! no heir of fame,
Who boasts no greater than a “ carrier's" name ;
Who ne'er had share in swelling Faction's roar,
Nor party rancour on his shoulders bore.

He scorns to tell of toils he never knew,
Storms that ne'er rose, and winds that never blew ;
How oft for you, o'er Alps of snow he went,
His breeches tatter'd, and his breath quite spent.
One truth in boards is better, sure, by half,
Than twenty lies, tho' gilt and bound in calf.

Once more old time revolves his iron sphere,
And wonted pastimes hail the new-born year.
On whitest wings the merry moments Ay,
Mirth laughs aloud, and grief forgets to sigh ;

Now little masters swell themselves to men,
And miss, indulg'd, sits up till half past ten.-
When pale face paupers are securely bold ;
When beggars wish, and wishes turn to gold ;
When wretches ask, who never ask'd before,
And those, who always ask'd now ask the more ;
When even Harpax smiles-upon bis wealth,
And thro' his window drinks his neighbour's health,
Shall a poor boy, alone, of all the train,
Without one single glittring joy remain ?
Say, if a learned sermon please you well,
Will you not think of him who rang the bell :
When the musician's skilful fingers fly,
And chain your cars in “organ melody,"
Shall no kind thoughts within your bosom glow
For the poor boy who did the bellows blow ?