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to the Octavo which has since emanated from the press, and contains the whole series of the present year. Suffice it to say, that I expected to hear from that pulpit some doughty polemic thundering, anathematizing every schismatic who hesitated upon a single point, and fighting shadows of his own creation ;--when, on the contrary, I found a Christian preacher, zealous for the cause of truth, but, at the same time, mild and pitiful towards the stray sheep of the flock. I looked for the denunciation, “ Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus ;" but I heard the mild voice of persuasion, which would rather woo conviction, than drive a mistaken judgment into obstinacy of error, by ill-advised violence and bigotry.
Twelve o'clock.Shut my oak; took up my Thirty-nine Articles, and read a dozen pages in Bishop Tomline. Am determined to learn the Articles by heart, as well as the texts of proof, or it is no use to, dabble in Theology. I shall then have some sort of gauge or compass, which, under the Bible, may keep me clear of hidden rocks in controversial writings.
Two o'clock.—Somebody rapped at my oak; Sterling's voice; was persuaded to accompany him to Evening Sermon, at St. Mary's; heard a most ingenious disquisition, by a very clever theologist, upon the degree of criminality evinced by Cain's sacrifice of the fruits of the earth, and Nimrod's man-hunting. In the midst of the discourse an old monumental tablet casually attracted my eye; a thought flashed across me I was under the same roof with the grave of Amy Robsart. I ventured to whisper a question to my companion. He replied, there is no stone to mark the spot, and we have but the tradition that the body was removed from Cumnor, and deposited in this Church, with pompous obsequies. “ Peace be with thee, lovely one !" I mentally exclaimed ; “ We know not what were thy faults and follies -but thou wert unfortunate, and we cannot deny thee the tear of pity. We know not the circumstances of your first connexion with that monster, Leicester, who, if we may believe the records of substantial history, had not a single virtue in counterpoise to his thousand crimes; but we are too sure that your end was cruel and untimely---not indeed as the facts have been perverted, for purposes of fiction, by the glowing pen of the mighty Magician." The village legends inform us that Lady Dudley died the death of Sisera, the captain of the host of Jabin :
“ The murderer put his hand to the nail, and his rigbt hand to the workman's hammer, and with the hammer he smote her. He has pierced and stricken through her temples. At his feet she bowed, she fell, she lay down ; at his feet she bowed, she fell: where she bowed, there she fell down dead." Observed a nuisance which had escaped my notice in the morning. The side aisles were thronged by several loungers, who
evidently did not think small beer of themselves or their neckcloths. They seemed to have come in to use their eyes, and not their ears, for their glasses were very busy, and the smile of selfcomplacency, or vacant stare, with which they gazed about them, only served me as a contrast to the anxious fixation of look, and contracted brows, of many of the Gownsmen in the gallery. Oh Raphael ! hadst thou but seen these originals, thou mightst have introduced them to advantage in the “ Preaching at Athens,” by way of the vain and self-sufficient Epicureans.
Five o'clock.—Hall dinner. Was sconced in a quart of ale for quoting Latin, a passage from Juvenal; murmured, and the fine was doubled.
Seven till Eight.—Took a turn with Tomline, down the fashionable promenade in High-street, or Vanity Fair, as it may be truly called. Such a show of bonnets, pelisses, and shawls ! Every colour in the rainbow. Strings of girls, from forty years and upwards to fourteen. Found Mr. T. a perfect nomenclature. Learnt an infallible method of distinguishing the different females in the streets of Oxford. The Lady may be known by her firm step-indifferent look, which seems to say " I see plenty of Gownsmen every day, and therefore don't think you, or you, Sir, particularly worthy of my notice”-cheeks not flushed at your gaze, and eyes cold as the snows upon Mount Hecla. The Commonalty are quickly discovered by the flauntiness of their dress, and their impudent ogle, or affected demureness, which has something too arch in it for the merest novice in observation to mistake for modesty. Lastly, the Stranger is recognized by her timid glance, quickly withdrawn as soon as met, sudden blush, and somewhat of a faulter in her carriage, for she knows we are criticising her, from the colour of her eyes to the turn of her ancle.
Eight o'clock.-Mended my pen, and sat down with half a dozen letters before me, to be answered before the post went out. Wrote home, and informed the Squire that every thing was very high at the University ; we were cheated sadly; and ended this effusion of honest indignation, by binting that the author's purse was rather low. Suggested that my sisters might as well make me some card-racks, fire-screens, and other ornaments for my mantle-piece.
Ten o'clock.–Reviewed my Diary for the week, and made a resolution of reform. Intend to read six hours in the day regularly, and to cut loungers.
You have now, my dear Golightly, a specimen of our life, at this hearty place. You will, however, please to remember, that it is the journal of an individual, a most unworthy member of this noble Society, and therefore will not prove so bad a logician as to reason from a particulars to universals. I remain, yours, &c.
A. L. B.
The Hall of my Fathers.*
(From “ The Poetry of the College Magazine.”)
“ I went to the place of my birth, and I said--The friends of my childhood, where are they?rand an echo answered, Where are they?”
Arabic M.S.-from Lord Byron.
“ Seek we thy once-loved home?
And, should we thither roam,
The spirit of my soul is chang’d,
My thoughts have ta’en a sadder hue,
And bade them, with a tear, adieu !
With gloomiest hatred thine and thee,
With them, where they no more shall be.
And they who loved are rent asunder;
Above them fate is black with thunder :
And my ardent pulse beat high ;
Flash'd merrily in my eye:
And all was mirth and glee,
When last I look'd on thee.
* The subject of these lines is not a fictitious one. The “ Hall” was the residence of a relation, now dead; and many of my happiest hours were spent under its roof.
III. Yet oft, in solitary hours,
Thine image floats across my brain,
Rush on my soul again :
And well-known forms to my eyes appear,
And most my boyish soul was fir'd, When gaily would my grandame tell,
How thither, with his court, retir'd
* I do not wish to speak disrespectfully of my ancestors, but I must frankly confess that I do not know that the said portraits are theirs : in fact, for great part of this stanza I am as much indebted to imagination as to memory.-M.
From realms by civil discord rent;
On scenes the heart can ne'er forget.'
But still, upon my pensive soul,
In blissful visions roll.