Still harmless are these occupations,
That hurt none but the hapless student,
Compared with other recreations,

Which bring together the imprudent."

We are sorry to hear so bad an account of the college psalmody as is contained in the following Attic

stanzas:

« Our choir would scarcely be excused,
Even as a band of raw beginners;
All mercy now must be refused

To such a set of croaking sinners.

« If David, when his toils were ended,

Had heard these blockheads sing before him,
To us his psalms had ne'er descended:

In furious mood he would have tore 'em!»

But whatever judgment may be passed on the poems of this noble minor, it seems we must take them as we find them, and be content; for they are the last we shall ever have from him. He is, at best, he says, but an intruder into the groves of Parnassus; he never lived in a garret, like thorough-bred poets; and « though he once roved a careless mountaineer in the Highlands of Scotland,» he has not of late enjoyed this advantage. Moreover, he expects no profit from his publication; and, whether it succeeds or not, «it is highly improbable, from his situation and pursuits hereafter,» that he should again condescend to become an author. Therefore, let us take what we get, and be thankful. What right have we poor devils to be nice? We are well off to have got

so much from a man of this lord's station, who does not live in a garret, but « has the sway» of Newstead Abbey. Again, we say, let us be thankful; and, with honest Sancho, bid God bless the giver, nor look the gift horse in the mouth.

ENGLISH BARDS,

AND

SCOTCH REVIEWERS;

A SATIRE.

I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew!
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers.

SHAKSPEARE.

Such shameless bards we have; and yet, 't is true,
There are as mad, abandon'd critics too.

POPE.