and a few books, lay a hunting horn, a long stag-knife, and several hoods for hawks. The walls were hung with the antlers of the deer which had fallen by Sir Philip's own hand. Over one pair of these a green forester's dress had been negligently thrown, and a velvet cap of the same colour adorned another. A large tawny hound, of the old English breed, was lying before the fire; it rose as they entered, and casting a suspicious look on the stranger, greeted him with a short, sharp growl.

“What, Wolf!” said his master, "hast thou not learnt yet to know a friend from a foe—a gentleman from a roundhead? Down, sir, down!"

The obedient animal obeyed his master, and resumed his former recumbent posture.

"And now, De Vere," said the host, "draw that chair to the fire, and tell me how your designs have succeeded."

(To be continued.)

THE LEAP OF LICHTEWALD.

(Continued from No. 6.)

The drawbridge past, a gallant train,
They urge their coursers o'er the plain,
By aid of word, or hand, or rein,
To reach the forest glade

Where Lichtewald's dark oaks outspread
Their vaulted branches over-head,
And formed a pleasing shade.

They plunge into the forest deep,

And through its mazes onward sweep;

They strive to reach the foeman's tower,

Whose battled turrets darkly lower,

Where Giessbach's flood, with ceaseless flow,

Dashes the precipice below;

Their crimson banners wide displayed,

Above the copse appear;

And, glistening through the verdant shade,
Shine hauberk, helm, and spear.

What means that rustling in the brake?
Why do the quivering branches shake?
Dark treachery, with sable shield,
Spreads her dark mantle where concealed
The foe in ambush lie;

Yet fearless through the forest wide,
With slackened rein the troopers ride,
Nor think of danger nigh;

ECA

EIA

When suddenly upon the rear,
The foe with triple force appear :
Loud brays the trumpet for the fight,
The lances glimmer in the light,
And sounds the battle-cry.

Their minds possessed no wavering fear,
They turned and stood at bay,

Resolved to sell their lives as dear

As men despairing may.

Each knight unsheathed his shining blade,
And briefly to the Virgin prayed,
Though seldom there he asked for aid,

Or sought from heaven or man ;
Then placed his glittering lance in rest,
With steady aim, and ardent pressed
On to the battle's van.

And the deep wood re-choed far,

As met these armies proud,

"Twas like the distant torrent's roar,

Or the burst of a thunder cloud.
The ashen lances snap like reeds,
And proudly neigh the gallant steeds,
Spurred onward to the fray.
And many a knight was backward borne,
And many a stately banner torn.

The cloth-yard arrows flew like rain,

And spears and lances flashed amain.

But spear and lance could ill withstand
The daring of the little band;

Quarter they neither ask nor give,

They reck not for their wounds,-they strive

For life and liberty.

(To be continued.)

THE ESSAYIST. No. 7.

ON THE COMPARATIVE ADVANTAGES RESULTING FROM CLASSICAL AND MATHEMATICAL STUDIES.

IN the present advanced state of literature, it may appear matter of surprise, that there should be found any so invidious as to carp at the mode of education now prevalent at our Universities, which may indeed be called the Mothers of that literature on which they so much pride themselves; -any so blind to the proofs which are daily before their eyes to the contrary, as to imagine that it unfits a man for public business, or any so foolishly credulous as to believe them. For far

from being a limited course of study, as its detractors say, to the exclusion of every thing partaking of the character of public utility, what science is there, either pleasing or useful, which is not in the highest degree indebted, if it does not altogether owe its origin, to one or other of these great heads of education?

Mathematics seem, indeed, to be the very main-spring of all the more abstruse, as well as useful and interesting sciences. Their extent is not bounded by the narrow limits of what is generally termed, "pure mathematics;" but they embrace in their wide-spreading circuit all the various branches of astronomy, navigation, mechanical science, and natural philosophy. It is true, that a person may acquire a slight and superficial knowledge of mechanics, and even of astronomy and navigation, without understanding, or ever having studied the theory or ground-work of these sciences. But such a person can never obtain a deep, sound, and accurate acquaintance with them, or rise to eminence in any profession connected with them. And how much more pleasant must it be to every man of intelligence and good sense, and to every one who has really a thirst for knowledge, to go at once to the fountain-head,and to proceed steadily onwards, examining the precise cause and origin of each result, than to skim lightly over the surface!

This may serve to point out the immense utility of mathematics; but they are subservient, also, to other and equally important purposes. Geology seems to be inseparably connected with them; insomuch so, that good geologists are invariably good mathematicians. The same may be said of natural philosophy, the great Sir Isaac Newton having been Professor of Mathematics in the University of Cambridge. To them the sailor is not less indebted than to the magnet itself, for his safe guidance across the stormy deep; the military tactician and the engineer find themselves equally under the necessity of studying and continually applying them to practical purposes. But even those (including the greater part of those who enjoy the benefits of an university education) whose profession does not absolutely require the study of the mathematical sciences, will find the greatest advantages accrue to themselves from it. It gives an acuteness and subtlety of reasoning, a nicety of discrimination, and a quickness in discovering the least error in the arguments of another, which power can be acquired by no other means.

Finally, as a proof of what may be effected by the aid of mathematics, let us look back to the siege of Syracuse; there we shall see all the efforts by sea and land, and all the stupendous machines and military engines of the most warlike of nations, commanded by him who gave the first check to Hanibal, baffled and destroyed by the wonderful invention and untiring industry of one man; and he not a general, not one who had been bred to the practice of war from his youth upwards, but a geometrician.

The study of Classical literature, on the other hand, is possessed of advantages, which, if they do not so immediately strike the

mind, will be found, upon close examination, to be not less important; at the same time that it possesses a decided superiority over mathematics, in being (to most persons) a far more agreeable pursuit. It tends more to refine and cultivate the mind, to give it a taste for general literature, as well as for the sublime and beautiful, and to fit it for the enjoyments of society. It has also another important advantage over them, in enabling us to become acquainted with and to profit by the experience and progress of the ancients in all the sciences, on which our own are almost entirely founded. An acquaintance with the Classics enables us to study, in their own language, the history of those celebrated nations of antiquity, whose revolutions have had so extensive an influence even on the present state of the world, aud to whose progress in literature we are mainly indebted for our own. It enables us to enjoy the contemplation of those models of poetry, of which our own are, for the most part, but imitations, and whose beauties we can duly appreciate, only by a thorough and fundamental acquaintance with their language.

In short, we think that enough has now been brought forward to shew, that whatever may be the relative advantages of those two great branches of education, they together include most of the sciences which have concurred to promote the civilization of mankind, and that those who decry the mode of education pursued at our universities as useless in after-life, and worse than useless, in wasting the most precious part of our existence, are either wilful deceivers, or most blindly deceived, in despising and rejecting all that tends to refine the mind, to cultivate the understanding, and to elevate and improve the capacity; in a word, all that has contributed to raise Europe from the state of barbarous ignorance in which it was plunged during the middle ages, to an advanced state of civilization unequalled in the annals of the world.

THE BANKS OF TRENT.

Sweet banks of Trent! sweet banks of Trent!
Where once a boy I came and went,

Fanned by your fresh and wholesome breeze,
And gambolling 'mid thy aged trees;
How oft your cherished scenes I view,
While fancy fondly turns to you,
When young, and gay, and innocent,
I dwelt by you, sweet banks of Trent!
And many an ocean-plain I've passed,
And I have striven with many a blast,
And many a varied clime I've known,
And journeyed through each changing zone :--
But vainly thus I've loved to roam,-
This heart hath nowhere found a home;
And so, with toil and care o'erspent,
I turn to you, sweet banks of Trent!

But should it please the Powers on high,
To grant the boon for which I sigh,
To bid me reach your much-loved shore,
And travel all the landscape o'er;
Retrace each path, review each bower,
And live again my youth an hour,—
Say, should I still be so content

With all your charms, sweet banks of Trent!

Say, has the storm vouchsafed to spare
Those branching oaks that flourished there;
Those haunts, are they still fresh and green?
My village home, art thou yet seen

Hard by

yon ivy-mantled tower”?
Hast thou not felt corruption's power ?
Those walls, like me, by suffering bent,
Have they not fallen, sweet banks of Trent?

And there my friends of childhood sleep,
'Where the dark yew trees silent weep;
And memory then would fail to trace,
Amid those forms, one well known face;
All, all are hushed in deep repose!
The blustering tempest idly blows;
It shakes yon sculptured monument,
But wakes not them, ye banks of Trent!

Yes! vainly so for you I pant!
You cannot give what now I want,-
Youth's glowing hopes and pure desires,
And love and friendship's sacred fires;
They all are past without return;
Yet still for you this heart will burn,
And sigh once more, ere life be spent,
To visit you, sweet banks of Trent!

THE DRUID SACRIFICE.

THE day was fast closing, and wrapped in rosy clouds, the sun was sinking in his western couch, but, beneficent to the last, shed a purple radiance on the landscape already decked with the varied hues of autumn; and fair Mona blushed at the kiss of the departing deity.

Allan walked amid the aged oaks of Vara, but their grandeur did not strike his soul with awe, the beauty of the scene had no charms for him. His countenance did not beam with the joy and lightness of heart which became his years; but his fevered brow and his hurried and unequal pace betrayed the conflict of passions within.