Near him the glittering silver medal lies
All bright to view-'tis Elocution's prize.
Three rival youths, by emulation fir'd,

To tempt the dubious contest are inspired :
See, in yon distant corner, while they stand,

Hope, fear, and doubt, by turns, their breast command.
The first steps forth, amid the silent gaze,

Mounts the tall rostrum, and his parts displays:

A second rival, and a third ascend;

You know not which to praise, or which to discommend,
But skill, superior judgment, hath decreed-

The anxious rivals from suspense are freed!
And thou, thrice happy youth, the victor found,
Approach! while plaudits to the roof resound.
Approach and to thy heart, that beats with pride,
Gay, glittering honour, be the riband tied!

Thus is the first important conquest done;
More youthful honours shall be soon begun.
See yon bright store of volumes in a row,
Where gold and Turkey's gayest honours glow!
The first, the brightest volume's rear'd on high;
Probando, prince of youths, is bid draw nigh.
The youth draws nigh, and, hail'd with loud applause,
Receives the boon, and modestly withdraws.

Probando is a youth well known to fame;
Nor e'er inglorious will you hear his name.
'Tis his the problem's deep abyss to sound,
Nor e'er to leave the hidden truth unfound;
'Tis his, the syllogist's dark rule to ply,
And prove absurd the sophism e'er so sly,
Or, if you please, with deep mysterious skill,
Make you talk nonsense ev'n against your will.
Tonillus, next, is summoned from the throng,
His head light tosses as he moves along :
No mean reward is his,--but why so vain?
What means that strutting gait and crested mane?
Away with all thy light affected airs,

For honour vanishes when pride appears.

The third, gay glittering volume, high is rear'd Mysterious Jove! Plumbano's name is heard:

With lazy step, the loiterer quits his place-
While wonder gazes in each length of face-
Accepts the gift, with stinted scrape and nod,
And slow returns with an unworthy load.
And does Plumbano bear this bright reward,
Himself unworthy ?-Justice unimpaired?
'Tis strange to tell! and yet it has been so;
The seeming paradox attend, and know
Plumbano is a youth, as fame reports,
The palm of victory who seldom courts;
Full many a race inglorious has he run,
Passed for a dunce, but 'twas to him all one.
But though the youth ambition ne'er possessed,
Neglect and scorn could touch the parents' breast.
It grieved their pride to see their favorite boy
No mark of honour with the rest enjoy;
They sought the cause that kept his spirits low,
And fixed a glumness on his vacant brow.
All, who had skill, declared without a pause,
That natʼral dullness was the only cause!
Can ought remove it? Yes, a tutor's got!
Plumbano's past appearance is forgot;
A masterpiece of skill each theme appears,
The tutor'd dolt outstrips his best compeers;
Merit is brought to light, before unknown,
Ah! merit truly, had it been thine own,
Had not another penn'd the admired theme,
Nor thou, at truth's expense, procur'd thy fame!
'Tis hard, indeed, but yet it must be so,
Well-honoured as he is, the dunce may go.-

But, let me tell thee, vain deluded boy,
Small is the glory of thy glittering toy!

Two shining boards is all about the book

At which with pleasure, numskull, thou canst look.
Though wisdom's ample stores its leaves contain,
By thee, unrifled, they shall there remain.
Go, dunce to all the world thy gift be shown,
We cannot grudge thee what is not thine own!

Thick pass the honor'd victors of the day,
Ingenio shrewd, and Alacer the gay:

Durando grave, Acerrimo the wit,

Profundo serious, with his eyebrows knit.
Countless they pass: applauded, each returns ;
While o'er his cheek the conscious pleasure burns.
Meanwhile, I see each one a joy impart

To some glad father's, friend's, or brother's heart!
Full glad they view the youth's distinguished praise,
And, midst applauding bursts, in silence fondly gaze.
A well pleas'd smile is seen on ev'ry face,
Save where, afar, in yonder secret place,
Foul Envy, blasted at another's fame,
O'er the pale visage casts a sickly gleam.
There sit a silent, solitary few,

Destin'd, unseen, another's fame to view ;
For whom no glittering boon is raised on high,
Nor shouts of praise, nor dusty volumes fly!
Hard lot, while knitted brows and bitten nails
Disclose the envy which the wretch inhales.

Here end the honours that to worth are due :
The pleas'd spectator takes his last adieu!
The youth are left alone :-let all attend
To what sage wisdom now may recommend,*
And hear the advice that fain would profit all,
The good encourage, and the bad recall.
Long may these precepts warn the youthful heart,
And long, through life, their influence impart !
Now, go! ye prosp'rous, be not too elate,
And let contentment soothe the adverse fate!

THOMAS CAMPBELL, æt. 14.

To the few surviving friends who annually passed this May-day ordeal in the Poet's company, and who witnessed and shared in his juvenile triumphs, the preceding " Description" may revive many faded images of college life, such as it was fifty years ago. Nor will they require any key to

* The Exhortation annually given by the Principal.

explain the incognitos of the actual heroes, Probando, Tonillus, Plumbano, Ingenio, Durando, Acerrimo, Profundo. They were all actual competitors and-so far as I have learned-all friends, or fellow-students, of the Poet. Plumbano, it may be remembered, had already signalised himself by his inglorious retreat from the "Pons Asinorum." These little traits of a satirical vein may serve to illustrate a passage in the personal reminiscences of Dr. Duncan, where he observes, that "the whole College was ringing with a satirical effusion of Tom Campbell, in which every member of the Juridical'-himself included-was held up to ridicule in no very measured terms." The particular "effusion," however, has not fallen into my hands, although I have epigrams enough to have produced the effect stated. But they are rather too personal and caustic, and indicate very clearly to what a height the spirit of faction had arrived-even among the students.

During the summer of this year-or, at least, for several weeks after prize-day, Campbell appears to have spent the greater portion of his time in the office of a solicitor, or writer, in Glasgow, a relation by his mother's side, and to have actually commenced the duties of an apprenticeship. This gentleman was the late Mr. Alexander Campbell; but, as he informed my correspondent, "the young Poet came to his office only on trial, and, disliking the business on better acquaintance, soon left the office and returned to more congenial pursuits." What these pursuits were does not exactly appear; but that he was diligent in his preparation for the ensuing session at College, and in almost daily correspondence with the Muses, is abundantly evident by the translations and original poems, which he struck off in the course of the autumn.

Among the miscellaneous pieces, was one inspired by the most atrocious event of the day-an event " over which

he wept at the time, and the mere recollection of which, after the lapse of forty years, still made him shudder." It was the following poem on Marie Antoinette. It excited much attention" on both sides of the Green;" met the public sympathy so universally felt at the time, and afterwards appeared in one of the leading Glasgow papers :

VERSES ON THE QUEEN OF FRANCE.

Behold! where Gallia's captive Queen,
With steady eye, and look serene,
In life's last awful-awful scene,
Slow leaves her sad captivity.

Hark the shrill horn, that rends the sky!
Bespeaks the ready murder nigh;
The long parade of death I spy,

And leave my lone captivity!
Farewell, ye mansions of despair!
Scenes of my sad sequestered care;
The balm of bleeding woe is near,-
Adieu, my lone captivity!

To purer mansions in the sky,

Fair Hope directs my grief-worn eye;

Where sorrow's child no more shall sigh,

Amid her lone captivity!

Adieu, ye babes, whose infant bloom,

Beneath oppression's lawless doom,
Pines in the solitary gloom

Of undeserv'd captivity!

O, Power benign, that rul'st on high!
Cast down, cast down a pitying eye!
Shed consolation from the sky,

To soothe their sad captivity!
Now virtue's sure reward to prove,

I seek emp'real realms above,
To meet my long departed love,-

Adieu, my lone captivity!

T. C.

Another poem, written about the same time, which obtained much local celebrity, particularly among the