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Who ne'er unlocks with silver key!

No borrow'd grace of action must be seen
The milder treasures of his soul,

The slightest motion would displease the Dean;" May such a friend be far from me,

Whilst every staring graduate would prato
And ocean's storms between us roll!

Against what he could never imitate.

The man who hopes t'obtain the promised cup

Must in one posture stand, and ne'er look up; THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COLLEGE Nor stop, but rattle over every word-EXAMINATION.

No matter what, so it can not be heard.

Thus let him hurry on, nor think to rest : fligh in the midst, surrounded by his peers,

Who speaks the fastest 's sure to speak the best; MLAGxris his ample front sublime uprears :

Who utters most within the shortest space
Placed on his chair of state, he seems a god,

May safely hope to win the wordy race.
While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod.
As all around sit wrapp'd in speechless gloom,

The sons of science these, who, thus repaid,
His roice in thunder shakes the sounding dome; Linger in ease in Granta's sluggish shade ;
Denouncing dire reproach to luckless fools,

Where on Cam's sedgy bank supine they lio Cnskill'd to plod in mathematic rules.

Unknown, unhonor'd live, unwept for die :

Dull as the pictures which adorn their halls, Happy the youth in Euclid's axioms tried,

They think all learning fix'd within their walls : Though little versed in any art beside;

In manners rude, in foolish forms precise, Who, scarceiy skill'd an English line to pen,

All modern arts affecting to despise ; Scans Attic metres with a critic's ken.

Yet prizing Bentley's, Bruvck's, or Porson'sø note, What, though he knows not how his fathers bled, More than the verse on which the critic wrote: When civil discord piled the fields with dead,

Vain as their honors, heavy as their ale, When Edward bade his conquering bands advance, Sad as their wit, and tedious as their tale ; Or Henry trampled on the crest of France:

To friendship dead, though not untanght to feel Though marvelling at the name of Magna Charta, When Self and Church demand a bigot zeal. Yet well he recollects the law of Sparta ;

With eager haste they court the lord of power, Can tell what edicts sage Lycurgus made,

Whether 'tis Pitt or Petty rules the hour ; While Blackstone 's on the shelf neglected laid ; To him, with suppliant smiles, they bend the head, Of Grecian dramas yaunts the deathless fame,

While distant mitres to their eyes are spread. Of Avon's bard remembering scarce the name.

But should a storm o'erwhelm him with disgrace,

They'd fly to seek the next who fill'd his place. Such is the youth whose scientific pate

Such are the men who learning's treasures guard! Clas-honors, medals, fellowships, await;

Such is their practice, such is their reward! Or even, perhaps, the declamation prize,

This much, at least, we may presume to sayIf to such glorious height he lifts his eyes.

The premium can't exceed the price they pay. But lo! no common orator can hope

1806. The envied silver cup within his scope. Not that our heads much eloquence require,

Th’ Athesian's glowing style, or Tully's fire.
A manner clear or warm is useless, since

Sweet girl! though only once we met,
We do not try by speaking to convince.

That meeting I shall ne'er forget ;
Be other orators of pleasing proud :

And though we ne'er may meet again,
We speak to please ourselves, not move the crowd: Remembrance will thy form retain.
Our gravity prefers the muttering tone,

I would not say, “I love," but still
proper mixture of the squeak and groan:

My senses struggle with my will :

The original is « Καθαράν ανοίξαντι κλήδα φρενών,” lite *[In most colleges, the fellow who superintends the rally," disclosing the bright key of the mind.”

chapel service is called Dean.) ? No reflection is here intended against the person men The present Greek professor of Trinity College, Camtipted under the name of Magnus. He is merely represent- bridge; a man whose powers of mind and writings may, las performing an unavoidable function of his office. Indeed, such an ateinpt could only recoil upon himself; as

perhaps, justify their preference. [In a letter written in

1818, Lord Byron says : -" I remember to have seen Porson luat gentleman is now as much distinguished by his elo

at Cambridge, in the hall of our college, and in private parquence, and the dignified propriety with which he fills his

ties; and I never can recollect hiin except as drunk or brusituation, as he wits in his younger days for wit and conFialty -[Dr. William Mánsel was, in 1790, appointed to

tal, and generally both : I mean in an evening; for in the

hall, he dined at the Dean's table, and I at the Vicemaster's; the hear'ship of Trinity College, by Mr. Pitt. While a bachelor of arts, he distinguished himself as the author of

-and he then and there appeared sober in his demeanor ;

but I have seen him, in a private party of under-graduates, Several jour d'esprit. Dr. Joweit, of Trinity Hall, having amused both himself and the public, by a pretty little fairy

take up a poker to them, and heard him use language as Ferden, with narrow gravel walks, besprinkled with shells

blackguard as his action of all the disgusting brutes,

sulky, abusive, and intolerable, Porson was the most bestial, and pellacid pebbles, and enclosed by a Chinese railing, as far as the few times I saw him went. lle was tolerated Dr. Slansel wrote the following lines thereon :

in this state amongst the young men for his talents; as the " A little gurden, little Jowett made,

Turks think a madman inspired, and bear with him. le And fenced it with a little palisade;

used to recite, or rather vomit, pages of all languages, and If you would know the taste of little Jowett, could hiccup Greek like a Helot: and certainly Sparta This little garden won't a little show it."

never shocked her children with a grosser exhibition than He was indebted to the influence of his pupil, the late Mr. this man's intoxication."] Perceval, for his subsequent promotion, in 1808, to the see of Bristol. He is supposed to have materially assisted in

6 Since this was written, Lord Henry Petty has lost his the " Pursuits of Literature." His lordship died at Trinity

place, and subsequently (I had almost said consequently) the honor of representing the University. A fact so glaring requires no comment. [Lord Henry Petty is now (1636) Marquess of Lansdowne.j

Loige, in June, 1820.)

No specious splendor of this stone

Endears it to my memory ever;
With lustre only once it shone,

And blushes modest as the giver."

Some, who can sneer at friendship's ties,

Have, for my weakness, oft reproved me; Yet still the simple gist I prize,

For I am sure the giver loved me.

He offer'd it with downcast look,

As fearful that I might refuse it ;
I told him when the gift I took,

My only fear should be to lose it.

In vain, to drive thee from my breast,
My thoughts are more and more repress'd;
In vain I check the rising sighs,
Another to the last replies :
Perhaps this is not love, but yet
Our meeting I can ne'er forget.
What though we never silence broke,
Our eyes a sweeter language spoke ;
The tongue in flattering falsehood deals,
And tells a tale it never feels:
Deceit the guilty lips impart;
Aud hush the mandates of the heart ;
But soul's interpreters, the eyes,
Spurn such restraint, and scorn disguise.
As thus our glances oft conversed,
And all our bosoms felt rehearsed,
No spirit, from within, reproved us,
Say rather, “ 'twas the spirit moved us."
Though what they utter'd I repress,
Yet I conceive thou'lt partly guess ;
For as on thee my memory ponders,
Perchance to me thine also wanders.
This for myself, at least, I'll say,
Thy form appears through night, through day:
Awake, with it my fancy teems;
In sleep, it smiles in fleeting dreams :
The vision charms tho hours away,
And bids me curse Aurora's ray,
For breaking slumbers of delight,
Which make me wish for endless night.
Since, oh! whate'er my future fate,
Shall joy or wo my steps await,
Tempted by love, by storms beset,
Thine image I can ne'er forget.

This pledge attentively I view'd,

And sparkling as I held it near,
Methought one drop the stone bedew'd,

And ever since I've loved a tear

Still, to adorn his humble youth,

Nor wealth nor birth their treasures yield; But he who secks the flowers of truth,

Must quit the garden for the field.

'Tis not the plant upreard in sloth,

Which beauty shows, and sheds perfume ; The flowers which yield the most of both

In Nature's wild luxuriance bloom.

Had Fortune aided Nature's care,

For once forgetting to be blind,
His would have been an ample share,

If well proportion'd to his mind.

But had the goddess clearly seen,

His form had fix'd her fickle breast;
Her countless hoards would his have been,

And none remain`d to give thee rest.

Alas! again no more we meet,
No more our former looks repeat;
Then let me breathe this parting prayer,
The dictate of my bosom's care:
“ May Heaven so guard my lovely Quaker,
That anguish never can o'ertake her;
That peace and virtue ne'er forsake her,
But bliss be ayo her heart's partaker!
Oh! may the happy mortal, fated
To be, by dearest ties, related,
For her each hour new joys discover,
And lose the husband in the lover!
May that fair bosom never know
What 'tis to feel the restless wo,
Which stings the soul with vain regret,
Of him who never can forget!"


Since the refinement of this polish'd age
Has swept immoral raillery from the stage;

1 [These verses were written at Harrowgate, in Aug. 1806.) time has elapsed since we met, as it was the only memorial ? (The cornelian of these verses was given to Lord Byron

I possessed of that person, (in whom I was very much it by the Cambridge chorister, Eddlestone, whose musical

terested,) it has acquired a value by this erent I could have talents first introduced him to the young poet's acquaint

wished it never to have borne in iny eyes. If, therefore. ance, and for whom he appears to have entertained, subse.

Miss Pigot should have preserved it, I must, under these quently, a sentiment of the most romantic friendship.]

circumstances, beg her to excuse my requesting li to be

transmitted to me, and I will replace it by something she 3 [In a letter to Miss Pigot, of Southwell, written in June, may remember me by equally well. As she was always so 1807, Lord Byron thus describes Eddlestone :-" He is ex kind as 10 feel interested in the fate of him who formed the actly to an hour two years younger than myself, nearly my subject of our conversation, you may tell her that the gires height, very thin, very fair complexion, dark eyes, and light of that cornelian died in May last, of a consumption, at he locks. My opinion of his mind you already know; I hope age of twenty-one,--making the sixth, within four months. I shall never have occasion to change it." Eddlestone, on of friends and relations that I have lost between May and leaving his choir, entered into a mercantile house in the the end of August."- The cornelian heart was returned armetropolis, and died of a consumption, in 1811. On hearing cordingly; and, indeed, Miss Pigin remindeu Lord Byrun. of his death, Lord Byron thus wrote to the mother of his that he had left it with her as a deposite, not a gift. II fair correspondent :-* I am about to write to you on a silly now in the possession of the Hon. Mrs. Leigl.) subject, and yet I cannot well do otherwise. You may re 4 ["* When I was a youth, I was reckoned a good actor member a cornelian, which some years ago I consigned to Besides Harrow speeches, in which I shone. I enacted Pet

Pigot, indeed gave to her, an now I am about to make ruddock, in the Wheel of Fortune,' and Tristram the most selfish and rude of requests. The person who gave in the farce of The Weathercock,' for three nights in it to me, when I was very young, is dead, and though a long sone private theatricals at Southwell, in 1806, with great

He sunk, an Atlas bending 'neath the weight
Of cares o'erwhelming our conflicting state :
When, lo! a Hercules in Fox appear'd,
Who for a time the ruin'd fabric rear'd.
He, too, is fall'n, who Britain's loss supplied,
With him our fast-reviving hopes have died;
Not one great people only raise his urn,
All Europe's far-extended regions mourn.
“ These feelings wide, let sense and truth unclue,
To give the palm where Justice points its due;"
Yet let not canker'd Calumny assail,
Or round our statesman wind her gloomy veil.
Fox! o'er whose corse a mourning world must weep,
Whose dear remains in honor'd marble sleep;
For whom, at last, c'en hostile nations groan,
While friends and foes alike his talents own;
Fox shall in Britain's future annals shine,
Nor e'en to Prrt the patriot's palm resign;
Which Envy, wearing Candor's sacred mask
For Pitt, and Pirt alone, has dared to ask.?

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Since taste has now expunged licentious wit,
Which stamp'd disgraco on all an author writ;
Since now to please with purer scenes we seek,
Vor dare to call the blush from Beauty's cheek ;
Oh! let the modest Muse some pity claim,
And meet indulgence, though she find not fame.
Sall, not for her alone we wish respect,
Others appear more conscious of defect :
To-uight no veteran Roscii you behold,
In all the arts of scenic action old ;
No Cooke, no Kemble, can salute you here
No Siddons draw the sympathetic tear;
To-night you throng to witness the début?
Of embryo actors, to the Drama new:
Here, then, our almost unfledged wings we try ;
Clip not our pinions ere the birds can fly:
Failing in this our first attempt to soar,
Drooping, alas! we fall to rise no more.
Wat one poor trembler only fear betrays,
Who hopes, yet almost dreads, to meet your praise ;
Bat all our dramatis personæ wait
In fond suspense this crisis of their fate.
19 renal views our progress can retard,
Your generous plaudits are our sole reward:
For these, each Hero all his power displays,
Each timid Heroine shrinks before your gaze.
Surely the last will some protection find;
Soue to the softer sex can prove unkind:
While Youth and Beauty form the female shield,
The sternest censor to the fair must yield.
Yet, should our feeble etforts naught avail,
Should, after all, our best endeavors fail,
Still let some mercy in your bosoms live,
And, if you can't applaud, at least forgive.

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“O lachrymarum fons, tenero sacros
Ducentium ortus ex animo ; quater
Felix! in imo qui scatentem

Pectore te, pia Nympha, sensit.”- Gray. When Friendship or Love our sympathies move,

When Truth in a glance should appear, The lips may beguilo with a dimple or smile,

But the test of affection 's a Tear.

Too oft is a smile but the hypocrite's wile,

To mask detestation or fear; Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling oyo

Is dimm'd for a time with a Tear.

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The soldier braves death for a fanciful wreath

In Glory's romantic career; But he raises the foe when in battle laid low,

And bathes every wound with a Tear.

On factious viper! whose envenom'd tooth
Would mangle still the dead, perverting truth ;
What though our nation's foes" lament the fato,
With generous feeling, of the good and great,
Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name
0! him whose meed exists in endless fame?
When Pırt expired in plenitude of power,
Though ill success obscured his dying hour,
Pity her dewy wings before him spread,
For noble spirits “ war not with the dead :"
Hi friends, in tears, a last sad requiem gave,
As all his errors slumber'd in the grave;

If with high-bounding pride he return to his bride,

Renouncing the gore-crimson'd spear, All his toils are repaid when, embracing the maid,

From her eyelid he kisses the Tear.

Sweet scene of my youth ! seat of Friendship and

Where love chased each fast-fleeting year, (Truth, Loth to leave thee, I mourn'd, for a last look I turn'd,

But thy spire was scarce seen through a Tear.

whence."-- Byron Dary, 1921.)


. The occasional prologue for our volunteer play reached Mansfield he had completed his task,-interrupting, mas also of my composition. The other performers were only once, his rhyming revery, to ask the proper pronunciawhile went off with great effect upon our good-natured exclaiming, “Ay, that will do for rhyrne to "ne. The

epilogue, which was from the pen of ihe Rev. Mr. Becher, [Thus prologue was written by the young poet, between

was delivered by Lord Byron.] Sages, on his way from Harrowgate. On getting into the ? (The “illiberal impromptu" appeared in the Morning parrage a: Chesterfield, he said to his companion, ** Now, Post, and Lord Byron's “reply” in the Morning Chronicle. Pizai, I'll spin a prologue for our play;" and before they 3 Harrow.

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Though my vows I can pour to my Mary no more,

TO THE SIGHING STREPHON. My Mary to Love once so dear; In the shade of her bower I remember the hour Your pardon, my friend, if my rhymes did offend, She rewarded those vows with a Tear.

Your pardon a thousand times o'er :

From friendship I strove your pangs to remove, By another possess'd, may she live ever bless a !

But I swear I will do so no more. Her name still my heart must revere : With a sigh I resigu what I once thonght was mine, Since your beautiful maid your flame has repaid, And forgive her deceit with a Tear.

No more I your folly regret;

She's now most divine, and I bow at the shrine
Ye friends of my heart, ere from you I depart,

Of this quickly reformed coquette.
This hope to my breast is most near:
If again we shall meet in this rural retreat,

Yet still, I must own, I should never have known May we meet, as we part, with a Tear.

From your verses, what else she deserved;
When my soul wings her flight to the regions of night, Your pain seem'd so great, I pitied your fate,
And my corse shall recline on its bier,

As your fair was so devilish reserved.
As ye pass by the tomb where my ashes consume,
Oh! moisten their dust with a Tear.

Since the balm-breathing kiss of this magical miss

Can such wonderful transports produce; May no marble bestow the splendor of wo,

Since the world you forget, when your lips once bave Which the children of vanity rear;

My counsel will get but abuse.
No fiction of fame shall blazon my name;
All I ask-all I wish-is a Tear.

You say, when “ I rove, I know nothing of love;"
October 26th, 1806. 'Tis true, I am given to range :

If I rightly remember, I've loved a good number,

Yet there's pleasure, at least, in a change. REPLY TO SOME VERSES OF J. M. B. I will not advance, by the rules of romance, PIGOT, ESQ., ON THE CRUELTY OF HIS

To humor a whimsical fair; MISTRESS.

Though a smile may delight, yet a frown won't afright, Why, Pigot, complain of this damsel's disdain,

Or drive me to dreadful despair.
Why thus in despair do you fret?
For months you may try, yet, believe me, a sigh

While my blood is thus warm I ne'er shall reforn, Will never obtain a coquette.

To mix in the Platonists' school;

Of this I am sure, was my passion so pure,
Would you teach her to love ? for a time seem to rove;

Thy mistress would think me a fool.
At first she may frown in a pet;
But leave her awhile, she shortly will smile,

And if I should shun every woman for one,
And then you may kiss your coquette.

Whose image must fill my whole breast

Whom I must prefer, and sigh but for her-
For such are the airs of these fanciful fairs,

What an insult 'twould be to the rest!
They think all our homage a debt:
Yet a partial neglect soon takes an effect,

Now, Strephon, good-by ; I cannot deny
And humbles the proudest coquette.

Your passion appears most absurd;

Such love as you plead is pure love indeed,
Dissemble your pain, and lengthen your chain,

For it only consists in the word.
And seem her hauteur to regret;
If again you shall sigh, she no more will deny
That yours is the rosy coquette.

If still, from false pride, your pangs she deride,
This whimsical virgin forget ;

ELIZA, what fools are the Mussulman sect,
Some other admire, who will melt with your fire,

Who to woman deny the soul's future existence; And laugh at the little coquette.

Could they see thee, Eliza, they'd own their deiect,

And this doctrine would ineet with a general For me, I adore some twenty or more,

resistance. And love them most dearly ; but yet, Though my heart they inthral, l'a abandon them all, Had their prophet possess'd half an atom of sense, Did they act like your blooming coquette.

He ne'er would have women from paradise driven;

Instead of his houris, a flimsy pretence, No longer repine, adopt this design,

With women alone he had peopled his heaven And break through her slight-woven net;

Yet still, to increase your calamities more,
Away with despair, no longer forbear
To fly from the captious coquette.

Not content with depriving your bodies of spirit,

He allots one poor husband to share amongst foar! Then quit her, my friend! your bosom defend,

With souls you'd dispense; but this last wbo could

bear it?
Ere quite with her snares you're beset: (smart,
Lest your deep-wounded heart, when incensed by the
Should lead you to curse the coquette.

1 [ Miss Elizabeth Pigot, of Southwell, to whom svetu October 27th, 1806. of Lord Byron's earliesi letters were addressexin

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His religion to please neither party is made ;

On husbands tis hard, to the wives most uncivil; Still I can't contradict, what so oft has been said, ** Though women are angels, yet wedlock’s the


Years have rollid on, Loch na Garr, since I left you,

Years must elapse ere I tread you again:
Nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you,

Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain.
England! thy beauties are tame and domestic

To one who has roved o'er the mountains afar:
Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic !

The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr !

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses !

la you let the minions of luxury rove;
Restore me the rocks, where the snow-flake reposes,

Thongh still they are sacred to freedom and love : Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains,

Round their white summits though elements war; Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing foun

tains, I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr.

Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wanderd ;

My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid; On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd,

As daily I strode through the pine-cover'd glade.
I sought uot my home till the day's dying glory

Gare place to the rays of the bright polar star;
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,

Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr.

Parent of golden dreams, Romance !

Auspicious queen of childish joys,
Who lead'st along, in airy dance,

Thy votive train of girls and boys ;
At length, in spells no longer bound,

I break the fetters of my youth ;
No more I tread thy mystic round,

But leave thy realms for those of Truth.
And yet 'tis hard to quit the dreams

Which haunt the unsuspicious soul,
Where every nymph a goddess seems,

Whose eyes through rays immortal roll;
While Fancy holds her boundless reign,

And all assume a varied hue;
When virgins seem no longer vain,

And even woman's smiles are true.
And must we own thee but a name,

And from thy hall of clouds descend
Nor find a sylph in every dame,

A Pylades' in every friend ?
But leave at once thy realms of air

To mingling bands of fairy elves;
Confess that woman 's false as fair,

And friends have feeling for-themselves !
With shame I own I've felt thy sway

Repentant, now thy reign is o'er:
No more thy precepts I obey,

No more on fancied pinions soar.
Fond fool! to love a sparkling eye,

And think that eye to truth was dear;
To trust a passing wanton's sigh,

And melt beneath a wanton's tear!

* Shades of the dead! have I not heard your voices

Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale ?" Sarely the soul of the hero rejoices,

And rides on the wind, o'er his own Highland vale.
Rorod Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers,

Winter presides in his cold icy car:
Conds there encircle the forms of my fathers;

They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr.

* Ill-starr'd," though brave, did no visions foreboding

Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause ?" Ah! were you destined to die at Culloden,"

Victory crown'd not your fall with applause : Sul were you happy in death's earthy slumber,

You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar;' The pibroch resounds, to the piper's loud number,

Your deeds on the echoes of dark Loch na Garr.

Lechia y Gair, or, as it is pronounced in the Erse, Loch "He who first met the Highlands' swelling blue e Gort, towers proudly pre-eminent in the Northern High Will love each peak that shows a kindred hue, lamis, near Invercauld. One of our modern tourists men Hail in each crag a friend's familiar face, tons it as the highest mountain, perhaps, in Great Britain. And clasp the mountain in his mind's embrace. Be this as it may, it is certainly one of the most sublime Long have I roam'd through lands which are not mine, kod partire que amongst our “Caledonian Alps." Its ap Adored the Alp, and loved the Apennine, parance is of a dusky hue, but the summit is the seat of Revered Parnassus, and beheld the steep eterial snows. Near Lachin y Gair I spent some of the Jove's Ida and Olympus crown the deep : farly part of my life, the recollection of which has given But 'was not all long ages' lore, nor all birth to these sianzas.

Their nature held me in their thrilling thrall;

The infant rapture still survived the boy, • ? This kord is erroneously pronounced plad: the proper

And Loch na Garr with Ida look'd o'er Troy, pronunciation (according to the Scotch) is shown by the

Mix'd Celtic memories with the Phrygian mount, pribography.

And Highland linns with Castalie's clear fount." "Tallade here to my maternal ancestors, “the Gordons," “When very young," (he adds in a note,) “ about right rany of whom fought for the unfortunate Prince Charles, years of age, after an attack of the scarlet fever at Aberdeen, better known by the name of the Pretender. This branch I was removed, by medical advice, into the Highlands, and was nearly allied by blood, as well as attachment, to the

from this period I date my love of mountainous countries. Stuans George, the second Earl of Huntley, married the I can never forget the effect, a few years afterwards, in EngProcess Annabella Stuart, daughter of James the First of land, of the only thing I had long seen, even in miniature, Betland. By her he left four sons: the third, Sir William of a mountain, in the Malvern Hills. After I returned to Gondoo, I have the honor to claim as one of my progenitors. Cheltenham, I used to watch them every afternoon, at sun. * Whether any perished in the battle of Culloden, I am

set, with a sensation which I cannot describe."] Tot certain; but, as many fell in the insurrection, I have 7 It is hardly necessary to add, that Pylades was the comused the name of the principal action,"

panion of Orestes, and a partner in one of those friendships * A tract of the Highlands so called. There is also a Castle

which, with those of Achilles and Patroclus, Nisus and EuBraemar.

ryalus, Damon and Pythias, have been handed down to pos

terity as remarkable instances of attachments, which in all (lo “ The Island," a poem written a year or two before probability never existed beyond the imagination of the Lord Byron's death, we have these lines

poet, or the page of an historian, or modern novelist.

pars pro toto."

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