judicious arrangement has managed to introduce a quotation from Aristotle to shew his acquaintance with the Greek language, and the impossibility of the subject of the Drama, whether ancient or modern, being introduced without it.

Although we had no intention to depreciate the excellence of a composition that appeared in the preceding Number on the subject of the Argonauts, we really must confess that the subject was not of so great interest as to inspire us with any desire for a continuation of it, still less for an ill-natured parody upon it, with malicious allusion to its metre (which, as we remarked above, is well chosen,) and travesties of peculiar expressions. Indeed, we think that an author has no right to trespass upon a subject pre-engaged by another, and at least, if he does so, he ought to treat his predecessor with some show of respect. The present article is certainly very humorous, very happy in its allusions, and very easy in its flow, but we cannot help wishing that the subject had not been touched, and that we had been left with the same favourable impression that we had conceived of the former, which is now weakened by the ludicrous ideas suggested by the latter production. The conclusion of Cassandra we pass over in silence and

The continuation of Wanderings in the Long Vacation in some measure disappoints us, and we must unwillingly own that the excellence of the former article had raised expectations, which were not destined to be realised. Perhaps we expected too much, or perhaps the seeming falling off may be accounted for in this manner: the excellence of the former article consisted almost entirely in the "letter," which of course could not be continued: at any rate there are some touches of humour and drollery, and instances of happy descriptions, especially of the enthusiastic admirer of English horses, and his feelings at the loss of his favourite. It seems that the author had two very good anecdotes, for which the rest is merely a vehicle, and moreover not a very good vehicle.

The next article has attracted attention not so much from its intrinsic excellence, as from the peculiarities attendant on its production. Our first number announced its acceptance, and we, as all admirers of the noble game of cricket ought to do, looked forward with some interest to its appearance in the following number, but for some unavoidable reasons we were doomed to be disappointed. We were again raised to the highest pitch of anxiety at the publication of the third number, and reduced to the lowest state of distraction at not only its non-appearance in the fourth, but not even a notice of the why and wherefore it had been fraudulently excluded while a vague rumour was in extensive circulation, which through a channel of a score or more "mouths," we traced to one of the Editors, of a rather leaky" description, "that the article in question had been withdrawn," while other ill-natured newsmongers suggested that it had suffered the fate of infantine productions, and had been overlaid by its too-anxious nurses. At any rate, the Editors had a great amount of responsibility on their shoulders. Only fancy, my dear Readers, the feelings of the unfortunate Author, regarding with parental interest, and resting his hopes of future laurels on this, his virgin production. Think of his weekly disappointments and feelings of injured merit. I should hardly have wished to have been the nose of either of the Editors under the first outbreak of his righteous indignation. The appearance of the Number has not realized our anticipations. The Author certainly, if he is not already, deserves to be in the Eleven, for his delicate flattery to the powers which rule. As a composition, we cannot admire it. Nothing is so easy as to parody an author with such marked peculiarities as Homer, and proportionally nothing is so difficult as to do it well. The present production, interesting to those who can construe it, from its local allusions, displays a poverty of invention, and no happiness in adaptation.

The same remarks obtain for the following Ode of Horace, which we made upon one in a former number. The original is not sufficiently preserved; for instance, the third stanza, if anything, is entirely perverted. Again, the adaptation of modern instances, which are in all cases hazardous, are in this instance by no means felicitous.

The next article has some merit for ingenuity, in bringing together and ascribing to one unsuccessful Contributor four of the rejected articles. The idea is well imagined, and well carried out, though the verses are rugged.

The translation of the Nursery Rhyme possesses as much merit as such a subject treated in such a way can expect. The original is of course known to all, except to that class of individuals who from their important bearing, and grand way of talking, we may fairly suppose never to have been children. The ideas have been happily hit off, and neatly expressed.

No. VI.

We now come to the concluding number, and we are sorry that circumstances compel it to be so, and on the other hand we rejoice from its increased thickness to find that it contains a double share of the poetical and prose compositions of the Contributors. We are naturally

led to expect great things, and to imagine that in its service the pens of all have been used most industriously and successfully; that many who have hitherto from feelings of modesty held back, have made a last and desperate attempt at literary fame, and that the regular Contributors have toiled with greater assiduity to eclipse, if possible, their former productions; and we have not been disappointed. It is certainly the best number, without disparaging the preceding ones, of the set, and makes a good conclusion to the literary labours

of the term.

"The Carved Chamber" is an interesting anecdote connected with the history of "Jans Müller,' a celebrated carver in wood at Lubeck. The anecdote is well told, and the interest kept up throughout.

The next article seems to contain a kind of satire, not against the Observer, but against the Readers of the aforesaid journal, and the unsuccessful contributors thereto. The Author seems to be under the mistaken idea, that all the Contributors are tormented by the green-eyed monster, in reference to each other's productions, and that no one can look with any inward satisfaction upon any production, save his own. Such at least, as far as we can judge, seems the drift of his argument. There is some humour and some truth in the strictures with which he supposes the different Articles of the last Number were greeted, and he seems to have joined in a running fire, of which we saw some symptoms in the last Number, against some unsuccessful Contributor, who rejoiced in the name of "Poodle." The Author inculcates morality with a touch of misanthropy towards the end, and signs himself with a name which would defy the researches of Scapula, Schrevelius, and Donnegan, and the meaning of which, we own, we have in vain attempted to sift.

We should have been much obliged to the Author of "Table Talk" had he given us a kind of running commentary as to what he meant in his column of prose, for we know no other name to call it. It cannot be called a thesis, because it states nothing; nor a dissertation, because it proves nothing. The commencement seems prefatory to something that never appears, and the end has the appearance of the conclusion to some argument that never existed. On the whole, it is a most mysterious affair, and would require a page or two more of the author's lucid prose to explain his object, and the drift of his argument.

We cannot but congratulate the Editors on being able to present to the public an effusion possessing such taste, beauty, and good feeling as the following:-The ideas are well arranged and well expressed. The opening is exceedingly beautiful, and although the middle rather flags, the last ten lines redeem its credit, and complete what may undoubtedly be considered the most successful production of the Observer. The justness of the sentiments, and the solemn tone of the ideas, in addition to the talent which they display, give evidence of the serious turn and superior attainments of the author.

"A Joke," like other productions of the same nature, contains a good deal of humouur and drollery.

The translation of a "Chorus of Hecuba," is done with admirable taste and exactness, in a metre well suited to the original, and conveying no small portion of the sweetness that characterize the "Choruses" of Euripides.

Extracts from a Student's Journal Book, like the preceding numbers, is by no means deficient in interest, and is written in a very good and easy style. We think that the author goes over his ground at much too rapid a rate. He transports us from a dirty village in the North of Italy, whose name he does not mention, to the capital of Lombardy, or, as he is pleased to style Milan, the Paris of Northern Italy, and thence to Venice, with a velocity far surpassing Mr. Green's balloon, and putting the railroads to shame.

The translation from "Catullus" possesses a good deal of merit as a translation, as it adheres closely to the original, and, where the author does slightly expand, the idea introduced is not incongruous. The wind-up is rather too sudden, though perhaps, on the authority of Mr. Weller, that is half the battle, as it makes us wish for more.

We know not how the different gentlemen alluded to so distinctly in the " Haileybury Homerics" relish the joke, but for ourselves we are sure that our indignation would have been great, and perhaps vented itself in personalities, had our names and peculiarities been treated with as little respect, as has been used to some in this composition. A dark hint, or a pointed satire, is all very well-the person alluded to is soon brought out, but really we are inclined to call out, " hold, enough," when we see the license of the old Comedy renewed, and individuals brought upon the stage and exposed to ridicule under their own names. However, the piece abounds in humour of a good-natured kind, and if the victims themselves are content, there is no reason why we should be indignant. There is one objection, however, as regards it as an English composition, viz. the heaviness of the two last comparisons, which have not sufficient spirit for the subject. The conclusion also is too abrupt.

Concerning the following instance of dry-wit and witty-dryness we cannot exactly determine what to say. There is some latent fun enveloped in the greatest tirade of

nonsense ever seen. No doubt the author has taken his degree as M.S., Master of Slang, and should the East India Company consider it necessary to have a Professor in that department in this College, we shall have no hesitation in recommending him; from the judicious arrangement of the heads, and the spirited manner of illustrating and proving, we have no doubt that his lectures would be considered highly amusing as well as instructive. One of his deductions falls to the ground, as the E. I. Coll. tailor, "as it behoves critics to be accurate," is called Cheek and not Cheeks-witness the cards of that respectable and well-dressed individual. The theory therefore which attributes to him the invention is not so groundless as Mr Twaddle in his spirit of rivalry wishes to insinuate.

Shall we call the "Carmen Bucolicum" a third rate imitation, or an intense humbug? We feel inclined for the latter, but our respect for the feelings of the Author inclines us to the former. Well, be it so. The next question is who is the gentleman with the azure garment's mantling fold? We have in succession reviewed all the gentlemen who glory in blue Pray-don't-ask-me-what's, but against all of them some objection has been raised, either a deficiency as regards an expanded chest, or a slight mistake in the article of a commanding eye-at any rate Mr. Alex. has a right to be proud of the accomplishments whether real or attributed. As to Florus, he seems to be one of your sixteen-hours-a-day-hard-workand-never-go-out sort of fellows. We have looked in vain into Lempriere and Ainsworth for a Nymph, or Deity of the euphonious name of Lynia,-a first-cousin perhaps to Lydia. The idea conveyed in the last line leads us to suppose that the lady in question was of a rather suspicious and close-fisted character.

The last Number closes with an Ode from the Sixth Book of Horace," wherein the Poet is advising some friend of his to read hard, lest he should be plucked at some examination, into the nature of which we are not enlightened by any parallel passages of that Poet, or any note of the Scholiast. Indeed the Ode is by some, though upon insufficient grounds, considered to be spurious, but from the internal evidence of the style and the similarity to other passages, it may without a shadow of doubt be ascribed to the Venusian Bard.

We are now come to the conclusion of our grateful labours (as a Committee of the House of Commons would say), and on the whole, we think that all must be pleased with the production of the united talent and industry of the Contributors to the Haileybury Observer. The success that has attended the publication, and the number of contributions have been such as to warrant the continuation; and no one we are sure can deem the time spent in such labours to be thrown away, or misemployed. Part II. of the Haileybury Observer, stitched in a brown paper cover, with a view of the College for a frontispiece, and the name of the printers, Austin and Son, in legible characters below, will go forth to the world; and if it fails in attracting attention at the different courts of Europe, will at least be read in the distant climes of India, and inspire pleasurable recollections into the breasts of residents at the court of the Mogul and the City of Palaces.

But, surely one may fairly object; "Why, if all this be true, are we to read this ridiculous criticism, and have sixpence added to our bookseller's bills? Why cannot you leave good alone?" My good fellow, we must answer, pardon our absurdities: we have two reasons, which prompted us to trouble you thus. In the first place, we were inspired with the hope of amusing you, and supplying the deficiency caused by the sudden cessation of your Observer. Secondly, we consider ourselves the Champions of the Rejected Contributors, we wish to defy Editorial tyranny, and Literary oppression, to repay in proper coin the witty remarks with which the concluding page of each Number has been so liberally furnished. We speak in the united names of " Poodle," "Sam Buchka," " Jolly Cock," and the rest of the disappointed fraternity. If we are refused admittance into the Observer, we will find other means of giving vent to our sparks of wit, and bursts of talent. These are the reasons which have given birth to this offspring of our Critic rage, which we humbly dedicate to our Readers.

εἰ μὲν καλῶς, ὡς ἐβουλόμεθα· εἰδὲ ἐνδεεστέρως, ὡς ἐδυνάμεθα.

HERTFORD:

PUBLISHED BY ST. AUSTIN & SON, BOOKSELLERS TO THE EAST INDIA COLLEGE:

LONDON:

J. MADDEN & Co. ORIENTAL BOOKSELLERS, 8, LEADENHALL STREET.

ST. AUSTIN AND SON, PRINTERS, HERTFORD.