in the Club Room, the members assembled at a quarter past 10, P. M., when the Chairman addressed the meeting nearly in these words :

Gentlemen-It is with unfeigned sentiments of regret, I inform you, that Mr. Johnson cannot possibly avail himself of the honor you were pleased, unanimously, to confer upon him. Nothing but the most urgent necessity, arising from the want of time, influenced him in his decision. Firm as was his refusal of the Editorship, it was accompanied with that modesty and urbanity which are so peculiar to Mr. Johnson; and Mr. Dashwood and myself deeply regret our inability to express Mr. Johnson's gratitude to the Committee, for their conduct on this occasion. It is, therefore, necessary to make an immediate election, and, by your leave, gentlemen, I will now proceed to enquire who are the candidates for the office of Editor.

Mr. Dashwood then proposed Mr. Darlington, and was immediately seconded by Mr. Kenyon; when, no other candidate appearing, and no opposition being shown, Mr. Darlington was unanimously elected, and returned thanks in as concise a manner as possible, for the great honor which the Committee had been pleased to confer upon him, adding, that he would always endeavor, to his utmost, to make himself deserving of the high office to which he had been called.

The Chairman resumed-Since our last meeting we have, unexpectedly, lost a good friend to the "Horæ," and a valuable member of this Committee. For the uprightness of his principles, and for his exertions, whenever the interest of the "Hora" required them, Mr. Kirby well deserves our gratitude; and I am sure, that there is no one at this table, who does not willingly acknowledge, that the school in general, and especially the Radcliffean Cricket Club, are much indebted to his services; I therefore, propose, that a vote of thanks be passed to Mr. Kirby, in return for his services to us as Treasurer of the "Hora Sarisburienses," as well of the "R. C. C."

X

Mr. Darlington then proposed Mr. Hamilton to fill the situation vacated by Mr. Kirby, and Mr. H. was duly elected.

The meeting separated.

The LETTER Box of No. 5 CLOSED.

Dec. 6.-A meeting being called, the President gave notice that the letter box must be closed on that evening, on account of the very short time which the Editors would have for the arranging of the papers.

Mr. Darlington informed the Committee that he had received a note from Mr. Seymour, in which that gentleman stated that, as there were now three Editors, he should feel great pleasure in being a contributor to the "Horæ Sarisburienses," as the non-election of a third Editor, had alone caused him to withdraw his own, and his friends' communications, and which he, (Mr. D.) had no doubt, would be sent in before the final closing of the letter box.

(Signed)

F. DARLINGTON,

Secretary.

The battle is over,—and through the wide plain
Are huddled together the wounded and slain,
Who have fall'n in the glorious strife:

Some breathing a blessing for those that they love-
Some wrapt in low pray'r, to their Father above,
Whilst fast ebbs the red tide of life.

Here lies the swift courser, which, lately, from far, When he heard the loud trumpet, and din of the war, His fierce rider scarcely could check ;

How dull are his eye-balls, which glisten'd with fire, How sunk are his nostrils, late swelling with ire, And the pride of his high arching neck!

The roar of the cannon has ceas'd-but its force
Is seen in each blacken'd and blood-dripping corse,
Which meets the pale quivering glance

Of those who lie stretch'd on the field, and deplore
The wives and the parents they ne'er shall see more,
And curse the proud legions of France.

But one rais'd aloft his stiff, crest-bearing head, 'Midst crowds of the dying, and heaps of the dead, His face beaming forth like a star;

And cried, with the last faint remains of his breath, As his fine gallant spirit yet struggled with death, "Old England for ever-huzza!”

LINES

WRITTEN NEAR THE LAKE OF GENEVA.

"Twas eventide all nature seem'd at rest-
The last faint glimmer of the twilight gave
To all around, an aspect still more sad
Than e'en the darkness of a winter's night.
The distant mountains, which I pensive view'd,
Gilded so late by Phoebus' parting rays,
Were almost sunk in sombre veil of gloom;
Yet still their snow-crown heights defiance bade
To circling mists of night, which round their base
Thick gather'd, as o'er darkest calumny
Fair virtue rising, oft triumphant soars,
And mocks the malice of a wicked world.
Meantime, the soft pale moon resplendent rose,
And shed mild lustre o'er the glassy lake,
Whose tranquil surface not a zephyr stirr'd;
If sound the silence broke, the ear could trace
The light gay carol, or the joyful song
Of weary peasants, wending from their toil
Freely to eat the bread of happiness.

Oh! what a scene of heav'nly calm was this,
Where all around breath'd innocence and peace!
Methought the good Astræa reign'd again,
And all of vice had long forsook a spot
Which nature form'd so lovely, so serene.

Say, who, unmov'd, such scenes as these can view!
Who, but the heedless, worldly-minded wretch,

Can see these mighty works, without a sense

Of awful veneration and delight,

But, conscious, feels his own unworthiness,

And his Creator's excellence and might?

Such were the thoughts that cross'd my grateful mind, And lifted, for a moment, high my soul

Above this world, in thankfulness and praise.

What charms hast thou, oh! Solitude, for him

Whose mind, unfetter'd, by the chain of crimes,
Whose fearful conscience, free from all remorse,
Welcomes that silence, which the wicked dread.-
Their dark and troubled spirits fear to meet,
In solitude, the demon that devours
Their souls, destroying ev'ry thought of peace.
He feels, amidst such scenes, from earthly cares
A short repose, and, for awhile, forgets
He lives, the heir of wretchedness and woe-
High above earthly realms his spirit soars,
And feasts on thoughts of everlasting bliss:
Like the proud eagle, that on mighty wing
O'er rocky heights cleaves his ærial flight,
Disdaining to behold the feather'd tribes
That flit beneath- -on the bright orb of day
His eye is fix'd, as though in earth or sky
No object else was worthy his regard.

What sweet, what heav'nly sound was that which fell
With liquid softness on my ear, and broke
The train of all my blissful dreams? Again
The lengthen'd echoes of the bugle horn,
Mellow'd and soften'd by the distance, swell'd,
In fullest cadence, o'er the tranquil wave.
Rising and sinking like a mournful sigh,
It died in silence-long I anxious bent

Once more to catch the music of those sounds:

I strove, alas, in vain!-'twas gone-'twas past-
Past, like a pleasing dream, which, when disturbed,
Leaves a sensation of delight behind,
And makes us wish it was reality.

IMPROMPTU,

ON SEEING A VENERABLE OAK.

Hail! royal oak, thou sacred tree
Of England's native liberty,

C. I. T.