excite our admiration, command our respect. There is a grandeur, a force, a fire, a somewhat undescribable in all the classics, which fills the mind with surprising pleasure, and makes it glow with emulation. It is impossible to converse with them unimproved. The strictest sense of justice, honour, humanity and truth; the finest lessons of morality are every where inculcated, and the love of their country is a constant principle which shines beyond the rest. Inspired as it were, by virtue, they breathe its most exalted sentiments, in such a manner, that he who often reads them, must catch the glorious spirit; and no study, I am persuaded, can more conduce towards making people virtuous as well as learned. Providence hath with a bountiful hand prepared a variety of pleasures for the different stages of life. Let us not then be wanting to ourselves in forwarding its intention; but, by the cultivation of our minds; dispose cach faculty for the enjoyment of those objects, with which it is capable of being affected, Antisthenes the philosopher being asked, “What he had gained by his studies answered, he had derned five and converse with himself Petrarch, in early life, applied himself very closely to the study of the law; and though it is not gencrally known, yet true it is, that by making a large collection of classical manuscripts, he was one of the great restorers of ancient literature.

Ambition bade young Petrarch's eyes explore
The deep recesses of the legal store;
From lurid cells he drew, with pious hand,
The precious relics of the classic band.

For ages sunk, the muse of Tiber lay,

But Petrarch's hand reveal'd her to the day.

As our parts by gentle degrees open and expand, we rise from the gratifications of sense, to relish those of the mind. In the scale of pleasure, the lowest are sensual delights, which are succeeded by the more enlarged views, and gay

1

portraitures of a lively imagination; and these again give way to the sublimer pleasures of reason, which discover the causes and designs, the frame, connection, and symmetry of things; filling the mind with the contemplation of intellectual beauty, order, and truth. Hence we regard our public schools and universities, not only as nurseries of men for the service of the church and state, but also as places designed to teach mankind the most refined luxury, to raise the mind to its due perfection, and give it a taste for those entertainments, which afford the highest transport, without the grossness or remorse that attends vulgar organic enjoyments. In those blessed retreats men enjoy the advantages of solitude, and yet converse with the greatest geniuses that have ever appeared; wander through the delightful mazes of every art and science; and, as they gradually enlarge their sphere of knowledge, at once rejoice in their present possessions, and in the boundless prospect of future discoveries. There, a generous emulation, a noble thirst of fame, a love of truth and honourable regard, reign in minds as yet untainted by the world. There, the stock of learning transmitted down from the ancients, is preserved, and receives a daily increase; thence it is propagated by men, who, having finished their studies, diffuse throughout the land that general knowledge and good taste, which is as distant from the barbarism of its ancient inhabitants, as from the fierce genius of its invaders. And as it is evident, that our literature is owing to the schools and universities, so it cannot be denied that these are owing to our religion. It was chiefly, if not altogether, from religious considerations that princes, as well as private persons, have erected colleges, with liberal endowments to students and professors. Upon the same account, they meet with encouragement and protection from all Christian states, as being esteemed a necessary means to have the sacred oracles and primitive traditions of Christianity preserved and explained. The thanks of

mankind are justly paid to those more refined spirits who, superior alike to the seductions of ease, and the tempta tions of avarice, devote their time and talents to the less gainful labours of increasing the stores of learning, or en larging the boundaries of science; who are engaged in raising the character and condition of society, by improving the liberal arts, and adding to the elegant accomplishments of life. In studious retirement a youth forms advantageous ideas of that life, on which he is about to enter. His heart glows with virtuous and benevolent purposes, in reading the works of those whether legislators, heroes, philosophers, or patriots, who shine with lustre in the page of history, and who derived all their splendor from their virtue. He longs to emulate them, and feels a conscious diguity arising from his comprehensive views, his liberal and disinterested intentions. He loves fame, and hopes by deserving to obtain it. Satisfied with this recompence in reversion, he rejects the allurements of intemperate pleasures, to advance the happiness of society, and to adorn humanity. True it is, that improvement in knowledge is a natural and laudable object of desire; and the more general that improvement, the happier and more perfect is human nature, and the inore estimable those arts, from which it is principally derived. The affections of a generous heart are extended, by the early association of ideas, to almost every surrounding object. Hence the delight which we receive from revisiting those scenes, in which we passed our youth; the school, where our first. friendships were formed, or the academic groves which fair science unveiled herself to our enraptured view.

in

ODE.

ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE.

Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,

That crown the watery glade
Where grateful science still adores
Her Henry's holy shade;

BY GRAY.

And ye, that from the stately brow

Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below

Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,

Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along

His silver-winding way.

Ah happy hills! ah pleasing shade!

Ah fields belov'd in vain!

Where once my careless childhood stray'd,

A stranger yet to pain!

I feel the gales that from ye blow,

A momentary bliss bestow,

As waving fresh their gladsome wing,

My weary soul they seem to sooth,
And, redolent of joy and youth,
To breathe a second spring.

Say, father Thames, (for thou hast seen
Full many a sprightly race,
Disporting on thy margent green,
The paths of pleasure trace)
Who foremost now delight to cleave
With pliant arm thy glassy wave?
The captive linnet which inthrall?

What idle progeny succeed

To chase the rolling circle's speed,
Or urge the flying ball.

While some on earnest business bent

Their murm'ring labours ply

'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint

To sweeten liberty:

Some bold adventurers disdain

The limits of their little reign,

And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind,

And snatch a fearful joy.

Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,
Less pleasing when possest;
The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast:
Theirs buxom health of rosy hue,
Wild wit, invention ever new,

And lively cheer of vigour born;
The thoughtless day, the easy night,
The spirits pure, the slumbers light,
That fly th' approach of morn.

Alas, regardless of their doom,
The little victims play!

No sense have they of ills to come,
No care beyond to-day:

Yet see how all around them wait,
The ministers of human fate,

And black misfortune's baleful train? Ah, show them where in ambush stand To seize their prey the murd'rous band. Ah, tell them, they are men!

These shall the fury passions tear,
The vultures of the mind,

Disdainful anger, pallid fear,

And shame that sculks behind; Or pining love shall waste their youth, Or jealousy with rankling tooth,

That inly gnaws the secret heart,
And envy wan, and faded care,
Grim-visag'd comfortless despair,
And sorrow's piercing dart.

Ambition this shall tempt to rise,
Then whirl the wretch from high,

To bitter scorn a sacrifice,

And grinning infamy.

The stings of falsehood those shall try,

And hard unkindness' alter'd eye,