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Mary in his expressions of pleasure and surprise. As they proceeded in their walk, Mary discoursed, and Arthur listened, until they reached Hollyhill.
Her voico—whate'er she said, enchanted,
Now listen, love
Early rising is a very excellent and laudable practice, and should be most highly com mmended, no doubt;—but—sometimes, at least,- it is not. very delightful. To rise at the same precise hour every morning is, besides, a dull and mechanical sort of affair, and not at all to be expected of persons possessed of a fine and poetical imagination.
I like to have my bed-room shutters so closed as to ensure the exclusion of the slightest ray of the dimmest sun that ever broke on the morning dream of a young poet. When I awake, doff my cap, and rub my eyes open one fold of the shutter. When I slip into my slippers, and plunge my face in water-then--admit Phoebus to have free ingres3 to my chamber-he may explore every corner and crevice of it--and put forth his brightest beams.
I sometimes rise very early—often, rather late, It all depends upon eis cumstances.
One night in June, -after some hours of deep and undisturbed sleep, I enjoyed one of those captivating dreams that occasionally visit the pillows of the young and happy. I was in the midst of banquetting and luxury—the most entrancing music
the thin robes
Every being was lovely-every sound-every word-every whisper-was melody. The windows of the apartment opened into gardens which were brilliantly illuminated ;--and when the harp ceased, and the sweet voices were still, the notes of the nightingale were heard from the distant grove. At the foot of the gardens was a lake, which mirrored the pale moon, and silver stars. After the dance, we roved beside its still waters. The whole scence was as one of enchantment--the refreshing breath of night wafted amid sweet flowers-the hum of girls, coming
like the sound
To see the roses all asleep.
sighs, the deeper for suppression, And stolen glances-sweeter for the theft
And burning blushes And
My partner was Laura-she of the raven tresses. - I led her to the margin of the lake ; and oh ! moment of delight, I breathed into her ear such
when a thundering peal at my door announced that the mail coach would start in ten minutes and Laura
- the lake -the moon-and the banquet vanished for ever! I was equipped in a few moments-arrived at the office—the coach ready to start-the reins thrown across the off-wheel horse's loins, with the ends of them hanging upon the middle terret of his pad—the whip thrown across the backs of the wheelers. Coachee appears, pulling on his glove-walks round his horses—alters a coupling rein-takes his ribbands, and mounts his throne.
In the olden time, the box-seat was the worst on the coach-it shampood every joint in the body as effectually as the sable professors of that delightful art ; but now-thanks to Ward of Skerries, it is the seat of comfort as well as of honour. We rattled over Macadam's dust-shook the old draw-bridge—and proceeded on our route to the metropolis.
Disturbed from as bright a dream--and destined for the same city, Arthur arose on the morning he was to leave S and the 20th of October discovers him at No. * * in old Trinity, his attention divided between a dish of coffee and a volume of Cicero. Examinations commence next morning, and Arthur has a formidable opponent to contend with. He obtained the Hilary premium, but had now to contest the certificate with one who had also gained a premium in January, but who, by some chance, fell into Arthur's division. His rival possessed a high name in College, and the contest was looked forward to with much interest.
Arthur was alone-the great bell tolling for night-roll--and every stir and sound in the courts heard distinctly in his chamber. A College-room is a peculiar habitation, unlike most places in the habitable globe. If you desire quiet and retirement, you can procure it to your heart's content. If you love society and tumult, you can command it also. A College-room possesses a double door, in which is fixed what is termed a dunscope. If a person knocks, it does not follow that he is to be admitted, for, if he be. deemed inadmissable, all the knocks in the rapper will avail him nothing.
1 h 2
Arthur did not assert his excluding privilege on this evening. ---Sidney knocked and entered; and the two friends talked on until the clock tolled twelve. Sidney's rooms looked out into the park. The night was bright, and Arthur and Sidney strolled through the courts, enjoying the stillness of the scene, and the beauty of the fine Corinthian columns which became large in the moonlight. They walked on to the Library portico.—“We will meet at Phillippi,” said Arthur, and the rivals parted for the night.Sidney was Arthur's competitor for the certificate.
A College examination continues for two days. It commences in the mornirg at eight o'clock. At ten, a small bell sounds-the gate opens, and the host rush from the hall, and, in a few minutes, are seated in the apartments of their several tutors, busily engaged, discussing the merits of Bouhier's sallyluns, Smith's rolls, and the Doctor's coffee. Attwo o'clock, the examination is resumed, and the same course is pursued on the next day.
In the days of our fathers, the examination of the four classes were over in two days. Now they occupy eight—two to each class. In former times the premiums were all general.-Now there are separate premiums, for Classics and Science during the Freshmen's years. The courts present a most interesting appearance during the period of examinations-groups of sophisters and citizens strolling about—the careless lounge of the gradwate-the anxious step of the father—the important phiz of the gib.Then, when all is over, and, preceeded by the fellows, the great rusli comes on, ---the joyous recognition-the condolements—congratulationsall form pictures most interesting to the observer, and furnish admirable studies for the pencil of Cruikshank, or the disciple of Spurzheim.
Arthur lived rather secluded in College--he had no chum, and his precise old skip, and female servitor were, consequently, his most frequent visitors. These venerable characters possessed, in common with most of the fixtures of the University, an antique and solemn appearanee-Kiddy's wrinkles were quite classical, and the dust on her garments was of the same hue as that which once coated the Aldine tomes in the library. Strange to say, these solemn personages often served to enliven the spirits of Arthur, for though Kidd possessed but little of the form, she had all the spirit of
The skip was most neat, prim, and particular in his dress and deportment;-he generally appeared in a plain suit of black, with breeches, silk stockings, shoes and buckles, and decorated with gold chain and seals; he trod lightly along the courts, and had an air of importance in his look that was quite imposing. You would instantly know him to be no common city skip, -no rustic in disguise looking for lions. He was, besides, well stricken in years, and had become grey in the service of the learned. He looked as one in authority; was courteous to strangers, respectful to gownsmen, and friendly to the porters. Kidd, on the contrary, resembled one of the Furies in her appearance, and, sometimes, in the opinion of Brush, became one in reality. Before a College-woman is admitted, the candidates undergo an examination, and the most old and ugly are sure to be unanimously elected. Arthur was fortunate in his lot, -as it was generally allowed that Kidd was the most attractive of all the fair members of old Trinity.
At a quarter before six, every morning, our hero is aroused from lis couch, and, before the bell ceases to toll, may be seen ascending the steps of the chapel. The early service lasts but for a few minutes, and few of the lads, except those who are emulous of College honours, attend. The
morning congregation frequently adjourn to the park, and stroll there untit the sound of the small bell summons them to lecture. During term the leetures are numerous, particularly to students residing in chambers.
I hear the Sabbath bell's harmonious chime
Come with me, my fair reader, to College chapel—it is just half pasť nine o'clock, -and have a fellow's ticket for you.—Look out at our embryo divines and senators-their white surplices floating in the windhastening towards old Trinity.—Listen to the fine tone of the noble bell, that lies immured in its dark and unseemly dungeon, instead of being lifted aloft in the heavens, to cheer even distant villages with its inspiring notes.
We now have entered the porch, and Hammond has opened the fellows' pew for you,—where [ must leave for awhile my fair companion, and take my seal amongst my brother bachelors.
The scene that the chapel presents to a stranger is one of great interest. - The two long galleries and the great body of the building filled with the noblest youth of the kingdom-all robed in white, and engaged in the great and solemn duty of public worship-commemorating the festival of the resurrection of the Lord.—The rich, mellow voice of Spray uniting with the thrilling tones of the organ—and the full strength of the choir joining in the grand chorus.
It is Easter day, and * * * * ascends the pulpit. He commences his discourse with a few sentences of propositions which will command instant assent-delivered in a mild slow tone.—On this simple foundation, he raises a most glorious structure—noble in its proportions, and majestic in its form--and concludes with an appeal to the heart and the understanding, with a power of truth and of eloquence, that cannot be resisted. Arthur, on this day, worshipped in an humbler temple.—He was in the parish church of S.. and heard the Easter hymn sung by the parish clerk in a simple strain of pious earnestness. The clerk was joined by a few of the congregation, and the low sweet voice of Mary Lisle when it fell upon
the ear of Arthur, did not lessen his devotion at the moment.-I have heard him, after hearing one of our inspiring anthems at St. Patrick's cathedral, recur with recollections of pleasure to the Easter hymn at the parish church of S * and the low sweet yoice that accompanied it.
Reader, did you ever see Izaak Walton's " Book of Lives.” It consists of memoirs of Doctor Donne, Richard Hooker, George Herbert, Sir Henry Wotton, and Bishop Sanderson-and is thus described by Words worth
There are no colours in the fairest sky
Around meek Walton's heavenly menory. My copy of Walton is adorned with engravings; one entitled “the pastor,” represents the venerable Hooker, sitting under the shadow of a tree, and, like Abel of old, tending a flock of sheep in a common field. When offered preferment, he desired some quiet parsonage, where he "might have God's blessings to spring out of his mother earth, and eat " the bread of peace and privacy."
Reader, did you ever see Charles Leslie's picture of " Sir Roger de Coverly going to church, accompanied by the Spectator, and surrounded by his tenantry?" Arthur's description of the church of S... on Easter day, brought Hooker and Sir Roger before my memory;-and, considering the changes in the manners of the times, there was something similar to Arthur's account of the church of S in that pictured forth by Leslie. The squire, indeed, did not appear decked out with sword-knot, plume and buckle nor was the little maiden that could scarely lisp “ amen" arrayed in the garb of my dear old grandmother; but the whole village, “ with their best faces, and their cleanliest looks,” are assembled, as in the days of Addison, awaiting the first peal of the organ, which shall summon them to join together in adoration of the Supreme Being.
FROM THE ITALIAN.
Maiden! I ask no brighter joy
Than what thy glance bestows,
Unchill'd--the passion glows.
To live but in those deep blue eyes,
Once seen, and ne'er forgot-
Such, lady! be my lot —