That draught, whose charm, in Fortune's fairer day,
Can gild her sunshine with a brighter ray;
Whose magic aid, in Trial's darker hour,
Can lend the Soul an all-unwonted pow'r;
And e'en misfortune's keenest pangs employ
To tinge their parting with a brighter joy!

And thus for you, sad Race, the mental eye
Can trace afar a glorious destiny:

A ray more bright than ever Science shed
Round Sage's brow or Poet's laurell'd head:
A joy more pure than Conquest ever gave
Ambition's soul which cannot cease to crave:
Yours be a triumph nobler far to find,

A holier strife, the conquest of the mind!
Yet not by you unaided and alone

May that proud field, that fadeless wreath be won;
No! the fierce struggle's fearful might demands
No untaught souls, no inexperienced hands;
For that high work, from many a distant home
Far o'er the wave, shall gallant warriors come,
And thou perchance, my country, ever first
Where Faith is sown and young Religion nurs'd,
Shalt grave conspicuous in that list of fame,
Bright thro' all time, full many a Briton's name :
But oh! not theirs, the gleaming arms which wield
The various fate of Battle's crimson field.
Far other weapons, other warriors there,
Meek, humble souls-yet oh! how much they dare!
See, see, they triumph! who shall long withstand
The Heav'n-led onset of that ardent band?
Dark Ignorance flies the Spirit's sword of might,
Beams thro' the gloom the panoply of Light;
And march, beneath Redemption's flag unfurl'd,
Peace, Virtue, Love, and Truth, to win a willing world!

THE PROPHECY.

THE western breeze, that softly blows,
Sheds perfume on the island shore,
And Nature, waked from deep repose,

Now day's long-lingering glare is o'er,
Opes the closed chalice of each flower
To revel in the twilight hour.
And youthful forms are gathering fast,
Now that the Sun has look'd his last;
And rife the citron groves along

Are the light dance and festive song ;
And lovers' mutual glances steal,

And tongues will tell what hearts can feel.
In pride of bloom, in beauty's prime,
The maidens of that sunny clime

Need envy not the fairest dame

Whom Europe's courts and castles claim. And one stood there, of form most rare, Even where meet the fairest fair.

The maiden's laughing eye reveal'd

The mirth it strove to hide;

An aged crone, till then conceal'd,
Unbidden stood beside.

Her form was bow'd with many a year,

And haggard was her face;

And well they knew in silent fear
A daughter of the race,

Who joy to work their tyrant's woe
By secret craft and midnight blow.

She gazed on her with hollow eye,

She beckon'd her with ghastly hand,
And few would then have dared defy

That look of stern command.

"Lady," she said, and low and clear
Were the few words that met her ear,
Lady, no care hath touch'd thee yet ;
No sorrow, thou would'st fain forget;
Affection, studious to please,

Hath nursed thee in the lap of ease.
The past has been like summer noon;
Who knows what clouds may dim it soon?
The future, which thou canst not see,
Is darkly shadow'd forth to me.
Lady, a fearful lot is thine;

I would not that it could be mine.
The husband of thy plighted love
Shall treason's deepest perils prove,
I see thee wed one mightier far,
Of peerless fame and dazzling star,
Who bends to place upon that brow
A prouder crown than kings bestow!*
Lady, on that fix not thy trust,
Soon shall thy grandeur sink to dust;
Mourn the transient pomps of state,
Dethroned, dishonour'd, desolate.
Then shall come thy fortune's curse;
A rival could not wish thee worse.
Time shall these hidden things unfold:
My task is done, my warning told."

"While Josephine was but a child, it was prophesied by a negro sorceress that she should rise to the dignity of a queen, yet fall from it before her death."-Sir W. Scott.

THE ART OF PLUCK*.

"An Art which Nature teaches, not the Schools." WITH the works of imagination that float down the stream of literature, and bask their little hour in the sunshine of popular favour, we do not interfere; we care not to break a fly upon a wheel, and forbear to overwhelm with the terrors of our criticism the little barks, which by their very frailty appeal to our compassion. Neither do we feel ourselves called upon to expose the ignorant pretension or the tame mediocrity of those who write in a higher, or at least a duller strain. Such we leave to sink undisturbed into inevitable oblivion. When, however, a work appears attracting notice from its novelty, demanding consideration from the importance of its subject, and challenging investigation from the authority with which that subject is treated, it becomes our duty, in common with the other directors of public opinion, to submit it to the test of the severest scrutiny. Without further preface we proceed to a consideration of the Art of Pluck, happy that our verdict can be conscientiously favourable, and that it will be our task to point out excellencies rather than draw attention to defects: We shall not, however, confine ourselves to a critical examination of each separate part; but rather taking those general views of the subject, in which the author has been prevented from indulging by the strictly argumentative style to which he has limited his treatise.

It is said that there are two animals only that can reach the summit of the Pyramids, the eagle and the

• A New Art, teaching how to be Plucked, being a Treatise after the fashion of Aristotle; Writ for the Use of Students in the Universities. By SCRIBLERUS REDIVIVUS, 12mo. Oxford, Vincent.

reptile. In the same manner academical distinction is obtained by the Pluck and the Graduate. To point out the superiority of the former to the latter would, we hope, in the present age of liberality, be superfluous. Still, in the spirit of Alexander's reply to Parmenio, the distinguished Pluck may say, "Were I not what I am, I might condescend to be a Double First." As to the Graduate,

"A breath may make him as a breath has made;" and, besides, it is notorious, even beyond the walls of All Souls and of Magdalen, that

"Worth makes the man, and want of it the Fellow." Still we do not deny them some degree of merit; they are doubtless wise after their generation, but how infinitely inferior is their principle of action! how grovelling their ambition! how cold their reward! Who can forbear an admiration, almost amounting to enthusiasm, when he sees one who can despise the empty honours of a college, and disdain to become "small by degrees"; who, instead of being a miserable satellite, sicklily reflecting the puny light of an examiner, at once shines forth an independent sun, blazing in all the plenitude of selfderived effulgence? Where shall we find a more noble example of heroism than in him who asserts his intellectual liberty in the very strongholds of oppression, and with no support but the confidence of idleness and the unflinching intrepidity of ignorance, beards the lion of erudition in his very den? These are the heroic champions of mental independence, and, as intellectual republicans, they will hold in the admiration of posterity a higher place even than political revolutionists. Such is the real grandeur of a Pluck; but we grieve to say, the excellence of this character has long been obscured, first, by those who, from their bigoted attachment to a rotten