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afforded me even to guess at the reason although Peter continued to move at of this sudden halt, an old man the same uniform pace, I could not emerged from the cabin which I saw persuade myself that he was not founnow was a road-side ale-house, and dering at every step, and was quite presented Peter with a bucket of meal sure we were scarcely advancing ; at and water, a species of " viaticum" last I reached the wooden bridge, and that be was evidently accustomed to ascended the steep slope, the spot at this place, whether bestrode by a where I had first met her on whom my priest or an ambassador. Before me every thought now rested. I turned lay a long straggling street of cabins, the angle of the clump of beech trees irregularly thrown, as if riddled over from whence the first view of the house the ground; this I was informed was is caught-1 perceived to my inexpresKilkee; while my good steed, there. sible delight that gleams of light shone fore, was enjoying his potation, I dis. from many of the windows, and could mounted, to stretch my legs and look trace their passing from one to the about me, and scarcely had I done so other. I now drew rein, and with a sben I found half the population of heart relieved from a load of anxiety, the village assembled round Peter, patted up my good steed, and began to whose claims to notoriety I now learn- think of the position in which a few ed, depended neither upon liis owner's brief seconds would place me. I fame, nor even my temporary posses. reached the small flower-garden, sacred sion of him. Peter in fact had been a by a thousand endearing recollections. racer once-when, the wandering Jew Oh! of how very little account are the might perhaps have told, had he ever many words of passing kindness, and visited Clare--for not the oldest inba- moments of light-hearted pleasure, bitant knew the date of bis triumphs on when spoken or felt, compared to the the turf; though they were undisputed memory of them when hallowed by traditions, and never did any man ap- time or distance. pear bold enough to call them in “ The place, the hour, the sunshine question : whether it was from his patri- and the shade,” all reminded me of the archal character, or that he was the only happy past, and ull brought vividly race-borse ever known in his county I before me every portion of that dream cancot say, but, of a truth, the Grand of happiness in which I was so utterly Lama could scarcely be a greater cornpletely steeped -- every object of reverence in Thibet, than thought of the hopelessness of my was Peter in Kilkee.

passion was lost in the intensity of it, * Musha, Peter, but it's well yer aud I did not, in the ardour of my looking," cried one.

loving, stop to think of its possible suc"Ah, thin, maybe ye an't fat on the cess. ribs," cried another.

It was strange enough that the ex* An' cockin' his tail like a coult,” treme impatience, the hurried anxiety, said a third.

I had felt and suffered froin, wbile I am very certain, if I might ven riding up the avenue, Did now bed ture to judge from the faces about, entirely, and in its place I telt nothing that, had the winner of the St. Leger but a duifident distrust of myself

, and a passed through Kilkee at that moment, vague sense of awkwari'neas about ine comparisons very little to his favor had truding thus unexpectedly upon the been drawn from the assemblage family, while engaged in all the cares around me. With some difficulty I and preparations for a speedy deparwas permitted to reach my much ad- ture. The hall-door lay as usual wide mired steed, and with a cheer, which open, the ball itself was strewn and Was sustained and caught up by every littered with trunks, imperials and denizen of the village as I passed packing-cases, and the hundred etcetthrough, I rode on my way, not a little eras of travelling haygare. I hesitated amused at my equivocal popularity. a moment whether I should not ring,

Being desirous to lose no time, I but at last resolved to enter unandiverged from the straight road which nounced, and, presuming upon my inleads to Kilrush, and took a cross bri- timacy, see what effect my suuden apdie-path to Callonby ; this, I after- pearance would have on Lady Janie, Fards discovered was a detour of a whose feelings towards me would be mile or two, and it was already sun-set thus most unequivocally tested. I pussed when I reached the entrance to the along the wide corridor, entered the Park. I entered the avenue, and now music-room-- it was still I walked my impatience became extreme, for then to the door of the drawing-room

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-I paused—I drew a full breath-my stopping in Ennis to-night ?" As I put hand trembled slightly as I turned the the question my mind reverted to Peter lock-I entered—the room was empty, and his eternal canter. but the blazing fire upon the hearth, “Oh, dear, no, sir ; the horses are the large arm-chairs drawn around, the ordered to take them, since Tuesday; scattered books upon the small tables, and they only thought of staying in all told that it had been inhabited a Ennis, if you came time enough to very short time before. Ah! thought meet them—and they will be so sorry." 1, looking at my watch, they are at Do you think so, Mrs. Herbert ? dinner, and I began at once to devise do you, indeed, think so ?" said I, in a a hundred different plans to account most insinuating tone. for my late absence and present visit. “ I am per fectly sure of it, sir." I knew that a few minutes would pro “Oh, Mrs. Herbert, you are too bably bring them into the drawing- kind to think so; but perhaps—that room, and I felt flurried and heated as is—maybe, Mrs. Herbert, she said the time drew near. At last I heard something voices without-I started from the ex “ Who, sir?" amination of a pencil drawing but “ Lady Callonby, I mean ; did her partly finished, but the artist of which ladyship leave any message for me I could not be deceived in—I listened about her plants ? or did she remem--the sounds drew near--I could not ber" distinguish who were the speakers Mrs. Herbert kept looking at me the door-lock turned, and I rose to all the time, with her great wide grey make my well-conned, but half-forgot- eyes, while I kept stammering and ten speech ; and on, confounded disap- blushing like a school-boy. pointment, Mrs. Herbert, the house “No, sir ; her ladyship said nothing, keeper, entered. She started, not ex- sir; but Lady Janepecting to see me, and immediately “ Yes ; well, what of Lady Jane, said,

my dear Mrs. Herbert ?" “Oh! Mr. Lorrequer ! then you've ** Oh, sir! but you look pale; would missed them.”

not you like to have a little wine and “ Missed them !” said I ; " how- water-or perhaps—". when--where ?”

“ No, thank you, nothing whatever ; “ Did you not get a note from my I am just a little fatigued—but you lord ?"

were mentioning“ No; when was it written ?"

“ Yes, sir ; I was saying that Lady “Oh, dear me, that is so very unfor- Jane was mighty particular about a tunate. Why, sir, my lord sent off a small plant ; she ordered it to be left servant this morning to Kilrush, in in her dressing-room, though Collins Lord Kilkee’s tilbury, to request you told her to have some of the handsome would meet them all in Ennis this ones of the green-house, she would evening, where they had intended to have nothing but this; and if you were stop for to-night ; and they waited here only to hear half the directions she till near four o'clock today, but when gave about keeping it watered, and! the servant came back with the intelli- taking off dead" leaves, you'd think gence that you were from home, and her heart was set on it." not expected to return soon, they were Mrs. Herbert would have had do obliged to set out, and are not going cause to prescribe for my paleness had to make any delay now, till they reach she only looked at me this time ; foret London. The last direction, however, tunately, however, she was engaged, my lord gave, was to forward her lady- housekeeper-like, in bustling among ship's letter to you as soon as possible.” books, papers, &c. which she had

What I thought, said or felt, might come in for the purpose of arranging be a good subject for confession to and packing up. She being left beep Father Malachi, for I fear it may behind to bring up the rear, and the recorded among my sins, as I doubt heavy baggage. not that the agony I suffered vented Very few moments' consideration itself in no measured form of speech were sufficient to show me that pursuit or conduct ; but I have nothing to con was hopeless ; whatever might have fess here on the subject, being so to- been Peter's performance in the reign tally overwhelmed as not to know of Queen Anne," he had now become what I did or said. My first gleam of like the goose so pathetically described reason elicited itself by asking, by my friend Lover, rather “ stiff in

• Is there, then, no chance of their his limbs," and the odds were fearfully

against his overtaking four horses, already breaking, and found me still starting fresh every ten miles, not to doubting and uncertain. At last the mention their being some hours in ad- die was thrown ; I determined at once sance already. Having declined all to apply for leave to my commanding Mrs. Herbert's many kind offers, anent officer, which he could, if ne pleased, food and rest, I took a last lingering give me, without any application to look at the beautiful picture, which the Horse Guards, set out for Elton, still held its place in the room lately tell Sir Guy my whole adventure, and mine, and hurried from a place so fuil endeavour," by a more moving loveof recollections ; and, notwithstanding story than ever graced even the Mithe many reasons I had for self-gratu- nerva press, to induce him to make lation, every object around and about some settlement on me, and use his me filled me with sorrow and regret influence with Lord Callonby on my for hours that had passed — never, behalf ; this done, set out for London, never to return.

and then_and then—what then ?It was very late when I reached my then for the Morning Post-—“ Cadeau old quarters at Kilrush ; Mrs. Healy des noces”-“ happy couple”-“ Lord fortunately was in bed asleep—fortu- Callonby's seat in Hampshire,” &c. &c. nately I say, for had she selected that “ You wished to be called at five, sir," occasion to vent her indignation for my said Stubber. long absence, I greatly fear that, in “Yes; is it five o'clock ?” my then temper I should have exhi “ No, sir ; but I heard you call out bited but little of that Job-like en- something about · four horses,' and durance for which I was once esteem. I thought you might be hurried, so I ed; I entered my little mean-looking came in a little earlier.” parlour, with its three chairs and lame “Quite right, Stubber ; let me have table, and, as I flung myself upon the my breakfast as soon as possible, and wretched substitute for a sofa, and see that chestnut horse I brought here, thought upon the varied events which last night, fed.” a few weeks had brought about ; it “ And now for it,” said I, after writing required the aid of her ladyship’s a hurried note to Curzon, requesting letter, which I opened, before me, to him to take command of my party at assure me I was not dreaming. Kilrush, till he heard from me, and

The entire of that night I could not sending my kindest remembrance to sleep; my destiny seemed upon its ba- my three friends, I despatched the lance; and, whether the scale inclined this epistle by my servant on Peter, while side or that, good or evil fortune seem I hastened to secure a place in the ed to betide me. How many were mail for Ennis, on the box seat of my plans and resolutions, and how which let my kind reader suppose me often abandoned ; again to be ponder- seated ; while, gracefully waving my ed over, and once more given up. hat, I make my bow for a brief season, The grey dawn of the morning was and here say—“Au revoir, mes amis.”

GREEK ELEGY AND EPITAPH.

AssUREDLY the predictions of the numberless, as are the works daily writers of antiquity of their own im- issuing from the press, still with unmortality, have been no vain boasts. abated pleasure and unwearied zeal Here are we, the descendants of a race do we turn to the great works of anof barbarians, of whose existence the tiquity : still is renewed the endless Greek was scarce aware, and whom cycle of contest and discussion, emenhad be known, he would have known dation and conjecture. They alone but to scorn,-editing, collecting, trans. have triumphed over all the changes lating, the invaluable relics spared to of fashion, the force of circumstances,

Libraries are searched, manu the variety of national character : on the scripts read and re-read, excavations banks of the Thames, and the Danube, made, toil, labour, and expense undere in the schools of republics and mogone, to amend a sentence, or discover narchies, by men of all classes, all à couplet. Great as is the demand pursuits, all ages, been admired and on the attention of the literary public loved. in the present age, numerous, ay,

Who can tell with what exultation

us.

care

we flee from the jarring, and striving, of speculation for man, and to give and jostling of busy life, from the tur- just views of our relations to each other bulence of faction and party clamour, should be the first object of education. to the calın and tranquillizing studies When compared with these we cannot of our boyhood, to the holy ground but believe the knowledge of the mowhich, consecrated by the earliest and tions of the stars or the properties of the purest associations, recalls the herbs, as of very secondary imporfreshness and the ylory of that blessed tance.* But enough of this for the period, when hope tinged all things present. with its own bright hues, and neither

The subject now under our consi. nor anxiety flung their dark deration is mournful in its own nature : shadows on our path.

it is doubly so, from the losses sus. Long, in spite of that philosophy of tained of some of the most beautiful the counting-house, which would es

works in this department of literature. timate every thing by the standard of The carelessness of transcribers, the utility,—meaning thereby the quantity bigotry of cloistered ignorance, and of money it will bring—that base and the neglect of a barbarous age, have degrading spirit, wiose chilling and left us but a few fragments sed er withering influence is alas but too pede Herculemfrom these, mutilated rapidly creeping over all that was and deformed as they are, we may form great and glorious in the national cha

some faint judgment of the majesty, racter-long may, these delightful grace, and symmetry of the perfect works continue to inspire the youth of originals. On the elegiac poets, termed England with lofty precepts and noble gnomic, it is not our intention to offer examples.

more than a few observations. We “ The knowledge of external nature,” confess ourselves no great admirers of says Dr. Johnson, in a passage which didactic verses in any language, least cannot be too often quoted in this age of all, of mere epigrammatic couplets, of pseudo-philosophy, “and the sciences to teach us by rule how to eat, sleep, which that knowledge includes or re- fall in love, or get comfortably drunk. quires, are not the great or the frequent In spite, however, of the subjects, the business of the human mind. Whether grace, neatness, and terseness of phrase we wish to provide for action or conver- of the originals render them not un. sation, whether we wish to be useful or pleasing ; but as we despair of being pleasing, the first requisite is the moral able to preserve these in any version and religious knowledge of right and we could give, we must only recomwrong; the next is an acquaintance with mend, in order to the full enjoyment the history of mankind, and with those

of the Theognidean Philosophyexamples which may be said to embody truth, and prove by events the reasonable « Those to learn Greek, who never learned before,

And those who always learnt, to learn yet more. ness of opinions. Our intercourse with intellectual nature is necessary; our spe It will give them a curious picture culations upon matter are voluntary, and of the Grecian nation_it will show its at leisure. Those authors, therefore, are to be read at schools that supply all guided by the most calculating sel

consummate duplicity and profligacy, most axioms of prudence, most principles fishuess. Alcibiades, the hypocrite of moral truth, and most materials for and the voluptuary, not Aristides, was conversation ; and these purposes are best

the representative of the natioval served by poets, orators, and historians.”

character. Polybius, himself a Greek, Human life undoubtedly must ever has confessed this, and reluctantly acbe the most worthy and fitting subject knowledged how much superior in his

• Many admirable improvements have been introduced into our University lately. We believe that for most of them we are indebted to our present excellent Provost. We hope, however, that he does not think that all the reforms which are needed have been made ; at present there is no encouragement to the study of classical literature, unless six or seven pounds a year, and a dinner for five years, be considered so. Why, too, is there not a professorship of moral philosophy? Were we not writing in the pages of the University Magazine, we could name more than one who would fill that chair with high honour to themselves and their country. These studies must soon, in this age of mechanism, be neglected, if not upbeld by the patronage of universities. Mathematical talent might much more safely be left to the support of the public.

time was the Roman.

His errors mus in the love elegy, afterwards natuwere on a great scale, the splendida vitia ralised among the Romans, and Simoof our nature, bearing in them the nides in those poems of sorrow and elements of greatness and noble daring tenderness, to which we have restricted -00 petty meanness, no low servile in modern times the name. From chicanery-none of that “wit that can this last species arose the Epitaph and creep, and pride that licks the dust,” Inscription, which are in truth nothing of which we do think every page of but short and pointed elegies. Grecian history gives evidence. He Of the writers above mentioned was often unjust, but his injustic was Tyrtæus is, we believe, first in chronofor his country ; in aggrandizing him- logical order. Every one knows the self, he raised her ; for her he plun- story of his being sent to command the dered provinces and oppressed nations, Spartans by the Athenians, and of the yet few are the instances of his break success of his poetry in awakening ing his word and faith, when pledged their courage. Several of his elegies in her name. In speaking thus we are have been preserved, one of which has to be understood as alluding to the been admirably translated by Camprepublic before the time of Sylla-after bell. They are all characterised by that period, the intermixture of all nerve, strength, and vigour, befitting nations enervated and destroyed the warlike poet, - befitting, too, a native vigour and independence of nation of freemen, before whose indigspirit.

nation the Persian myriads were scatOf the Elegiac poets, of whose works tered as chat at Marathon and Platæa. any portion has reached us, we do not “ Give me,” says Fletcher of Saltoun, hesitate in giving the first rank to "the ballads of a nation, and let others Tyrtæus, Minnermus, and Simonides- make the laws.”. Compare the history each' a master in his ‘own style. of Greece with these her early strains, Tyrtæus in the warlike elegy, Minner- and judge how true !

a

“ Curse on the traitor, who, when foes invade,

Lurks in some corner, from the battle-field :
Curse on th’unmanly hand, that grasps no blade,

The timid tongue that bids us basely yield.
Fate yet shall catch the coward, though alone,
And hurl him to his grave, unwept, unknown.

“ Better to dare Death's momentary pain,

Scarce felt amid the rapture of the strife,
Than tamely to endure the conqueror's chain,

And drag the burden of a shameful life ;
Loathed by yourself, yet shrinking from the grave,
And ever branded as a recreant slave.

“ No rust shall gather on the hero's tomb,

No time obscure the lustre of his fame
A nation's tears lament his early doom,

A nation's grateful heart embalms his name ;
And through all time, that glorious name shall be
A watchword to inspire the brave and free.

“ Thus man becomes immortal-soars sublime

Beyond the power of darkness and decay ;
Far o'er the petty bounds of age or clime,

Beams the bright radiance on the warrior's way,
Unquenched—unquenchable—a beacon-fame,
To point the path to victory and to fame.

Up then, and man to man, and lance to lance,

Repel the invader from your native land ;
See how the cowards shrink from freedom's glance,

See how they quail beneath the freeman's brand.
Think on your homes, your wives, your children-all

With you must conquer, or with you must fall.
Vol. IX.

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