tain, who addresses them in a Latin Oration, in which he takes care to compliment and congratulate all for whom he can find a proper subject, and besides, cursorily mentions the events of the year, especially all those in which Eton is anywise concerned. By a good hand such a variety of topics might, one would think, be handled to very great advantage. The boys are not obliged to be present at the principal Speeches, for this sensible reason, that the School is not large enough to hold them and the company too, so directly the first word is delivered, out they rush, and the Holidays are begun. Henry will be detained a day or two longer, as he must undergo some trials before he can be placed on the list to succeed to the vacancies in College, but I rather imagine they are not very difficult; in fact not so much so as those which determined his place at his first entrance. REFLECTIONS ON A CLERICAL LIFE. "Inter cuncta leges, et percunctabere doctos, An secretum iter, et fallentis semita vitæ."-HORACE. THE subject, upon which I now am about to venture a few remarks, however insipid and useless it may appear to my more lively companions, is by no means destitute of interest, or unworthy of notice. It is, indeed, a subject to which, from my own prospects of future life, I may be accused of cherishing too much partiality. But let those who would object to these reflections, first consider, that they rest upon an object which deserves at least an equal, if not a greater, of praise than any of the other professions; which has been the peculiar study of men eminent for their piety, share fortitude, and learning; upon which, in short, entirely depends the promotion of our welfare and happiness in this life, and our endless bliss in that which is to come. Already I fancy that I see the sarcastic smile playing about the lips of Golightly; already I hear the broad, original, unrestrained laugh of O'Connor and Sir T. Nesbit. Laugh on, as you will, at this serious prologue, my worthy friends. All that I can do is, to beg of you to pass over this Sermon, (which to be sure, is of no very great length;) and turn to the next lively Article. I certainly can neither boast of nor promise any of the ludicrous-far less is my subject calculated for any mention of beer or bargemen. You will consequently, none of you, find it suited to your respective ideas of the summum bonum of Periodical Writing. But the minds of all are not of the same cast;-there are many who, like myself, approve of the seria mista jocis;—there are many who, like myself, are destined for the Church. To these I address myself, in the hope that the pages which contain these reflections may not totally escape the paper-cutter's edge: in the hope that, if I am totally discarded and neglected by my Junior, I may obtain a patient hearing from my Senior Readers. Every one, upon entering the stage of life, must encourage sundry doubts respecting the course, by pursuing which he may secure to himself the happiest and most eligible station in the world. Some imagine that the object of their research lurks beneath the monotony of an existence, which is occupied by pleasure and idleness; some endeavour to obtain it amongst the neverfailing bustle and activity of a public, or the glorious, though uncertain, toils of a military life. But few, very few, if the option is their own, will make the Church an object of their choice. She affords us no opportunity of signalizing ourselves in any eloquence,-save that of the pulpit: in any valour,-save that of Christian fortitude and temperance. She holds out no prospects, excepting those of retirement and tranquillity; from which the ardour of a juvenile mind will, in most cases, recoil with abhorrence. Nor can she tempt us with such splendor of dress, or such hopes of emolument, as the other professions are enabled to offer to their votaries. In addition to this, the voice of prejudice, which, as I remarked in another Paper, is directed against all, is never silent with regard to the Church and her sons. How frequently do we hear the laugh raised against such of our companions as are destined for the sacred robe! How seldom do we hear the very name of a clergyman mentioned, without an unrestrained smile, or contemptuous sneer! The voluptuary and the miser are alike hostile. to this profession:-the former, because he looks upon its votaries as censors of his guilty pleasures, and obstacles to the perpetration of them;-the latter, because he considers the ceremonies and ordinations of the Church as a system of priestcraft and extortion. We cannot indeed wonder that those whose object is revolution-whose ruling principles are swayed by impiety and blasphemy alone, should launch forth every shaft of malice and virulence against the sacred order. They well know that when the power of religion is subverted, all other distinctions, all laws, divine and human, must be involved with it in one general ruin: nor can they allure their followers to deeds of bloodshed and iniquity by a more tempting system of ethics, than the assurance that our Holy Scriptures are the effects of priestcraft, and that wickedness shall meet with no punishment hereafter. We need not, I say, be astonished at this; but I certainly am unable to discover why prejudice should manifest itself so generally against this profession. Let us turn our thoughts to the various paths of life which our fellow-creatures pursue;-let us, in short, compare the clerical life with that of the remainder of society. In that comparison it will not, I think, be found so deficient in human happiness as is generally supposed. The civil and military professions afford us every honour, every opportunity of obtaining glory which can be allowed to mankind. But can such a source of pride, such tumultuous splendor, equal that inward tranquillity, that genuine peace of mind, which those enjoy who have dedicated themselves to the Church, and restrained their passions by the dictates of Religion? Is the glory of governing armies-of conquering cities of exacting awe from all, by our bodily or mental qualifications, more to be preferred than the quiet and happiness of those, whose labours are not of this world; whose endeavours are solely for the future benefit and welfare of mankind; and whose only ambition is to rescue the souls of men from eternal perdition and misery" to guide our feet into the way of peace?" Let me not, however, in my zeal for the Church, be accused of endeavouring to lessen the good opinion of my fellow-citizens in favour of the other professions. They all possess intrinsic merit; nor is any thing further from my wish than to say aught in disparagement of them. Yet, while I allow that greater talent has been displayed in the other lines of life, I question whether greater felicity has been gained in them. Reader! if your patience has borne you to the end of this Article, and you never should happen to have seen the beautiful lines of Goldsmith, which conclude it,-before you turn over this page, favour them with a small portion of your attention. Look attentively at the character they depict;-observe the actions of him whom they describe;and then ask of yourselves, whether you have ever discovered a more enviable instance of happiness than the following: "Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wish'd to change his place; By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour: Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize, More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given; Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm: M. STERLING. HAPPINESS. How few the moments of this changeful life, To live with those we love alone is life: How few then live! Thoughtless and smiling youth C. THE BRIDE OF THE CAVE.* A BALLAD. (From the "Poetry of the College Magazine.") BELOW the cliff, below the wave, The golden Sun is set; But a purple flush from its sinking orb Gleams over the Ocean yet. * For the story on which this Ballad is founded, see Mariner's Account of the Tonga Islands. |