of him are singularly characteristic. No per- Southey say) touching the probably ornate son can look on the features, noble even to diction in which Milton would have written ruggedness, the dark furrows of the cheek, his history of England, especially in the more the haggard and woful stare of the eye, the turbulent scenes, and in the darker ages,sullen and contemptuous curve of the lip, and that, though there are quiet hours and places doubt that they belong to a man too proud in which a taper may be carried steadily, and and too sensitive to be happy." This last show the way along the ground, yet you example is cited, because we are told that must stand a-tiptoe, and raise a blazing torch it sufficed to impel Robert Hall, when three- above your head, if you would bring before score years old, and prostrate with disease, the vision the obscure and time-worn figures to set about learning the rudiments of Italian, depicted in the lofty vaults of the past. that he might verify for himself this descrip."The philosopher shows everything in one tion of that "scarred veteran of a life-long war," who, -lean and pale, With such immitigable eye clear light; the historian loves strong reflec- Gazed once upon those writhing souls in bale, voys a meagre company, while loud and The boldness and burnish of these and other portraits of Macaulay's painting are wonderfully attractive to thousands, who would overlook or disregard them were the outlines less vigorous (not to say exaggerated), the coloring more subdued, and a pervading presence of repose more perceptible. His are not, like Coleridge's, "groups tinged with distant light," to use Talfourd's comparison, but "historical figures in relief, presented in bright succession." His history confirms the recognized character of this his talent: Grand peintre d'histoire (to apply to him what has been said of a grand écrivain under France's Grand Monarque), il excelle à rendre les individus en pied, les groupes, les foules;-le peintre abonde et surabonde; il a bien fait de laisser son œuvre un peu exorbitante en bien des points. M. Scherer objects that, if Macaulay's portraits appear sometimes to leap out of the canvas and walk, they are yet also at times more lively than like; that shading is sacrificed to effect; that the color is more dazzling than solid; and that antithesis and paradox are too conspicuous on the palette of the artist. The objection has its force, and deserves consideration; but let us add to the consideration, and apply to Macaulay's gorgeous effects in general, what Landor has said (or made eager is the tramp of throngs who pass by on the other side, flame fascinated many of them, like insects of an hour, by the historian's blazing torch. His introduction of allusions to, or a few pregnant syllables of, the words of Holy Writ, is another characteristic worthy of notice. In the taste which regulates this practice, he is eminently superior to another great writer and greater orator, Edmund Burke; whose citation of passages from Scripture was sometimes strained and offensive. Let who will, admire,-let who can, defend,—Burke's "wit" in calling Lord Hillsborough's Letter to the Colonies a canonical book of ministerial scripture, the Epistle General to the Americans"-and his exclaiming, “It is good for us to be here," and his sally on the comatose Premier, "Brother Lazarus is not dead, but sleepeth," &c. These and similar specimens of parody have ever seemed to us unliappy in spirit and application, and utterly unworthy of him who thus condescended to fabricate them. To handle at all without offence so delicate a subject demands a severe self-restraint, and an habitual and jealously-guarded spirit of reverence. To give an example or two of Mr. Macaulay's manner of drawing upon the sacred records, whether for a passing illustration, or an impressive phrase-what can be happier than that glance at the Book of Esther, when, describing Lord Bacon's discontent with the proud intellectual prerogatives and the splendid intellectual influence which ought to have sufficed, he says, "But all this availed him nothing while some quibbling special pleader was promoted before him to the bench, while some heavy country gentleman took precedence of him * Imaginary Conversations: "Southey and Landor." " But Canaanites. Drogheda was as Jericho; and Wexford as Ai. To the remains of the old population the conqueror granted a peace, such as that which Israel granted to the Gib eonites. He made them hewers of wood and drawers of water." Recounting some premonitory symptoms of disaffection in the days of Charles II., he exclaims: "These things were done in the green tree. What then was likely to be done in the dry?" Discussing the wrongs endured by native Indians at the hands of their British masters, he says of the thirty millions who had been accustomed to live under tyranny, but never under tyranny like this: "They found the little finger of the Company thicker than the loins of Surajah Dowla." Of the parties in civil strife, not yet fatigued by long conflict, or instructed by costly discipline, he says, "When they are in their first heady youth, devoid of experience, fresh for exertion, flush by virtue of a purchased coronet; while some | pandar, happy in a fair wife, could obtain a more cordial salute from Buckingham; while some buffoon, versed in allthe latest scandal | of the court, could draw a louder laugh from James." Of the same greatest, meanest Chancellor, he says, "His desires were set on things below." And in reference to his cringing courtiership, "No man mo e readily held up the left cheek to those who had smitten the right. No man was more expert at the soft answer which turneth away wrath." To Dante he finely applies the "noble language of the Hebrew Poet," when he calls his mind intensely melancholy, and that from within not without, "a land of darkness, as darkness itself, and where the light is as darkness." Machiavelli, embarrassed by disunion in the council and effeminacy in the camp, in the energetic language of the prophet "he calls "mad for the sight of his eyes which he saw." Speaking of the tasked with hope, burning with animosity, they awaiting those who seek to control and sub ject the fierce spirits of nations unaccustomed to the yoke, he says: "Beasts of burden may easily be managed by a new master. will the wild ass submit to the bonds? Will the unicorn serve and abide by the crib ? Will leviathan hold out his nostrils to the yoke?" Of the example in versification set by Cowper and by Alfieri, against the "creamy smoothness" of contemporary bards, he says, that the part which they performed was rather that of Moses than that of Joshua: they opened the house of bondage; but they did not enter the promised land. Speaking of the peculiar transitional state of literature, as a means of livelihood, during Johnson's prime, when patronage was dying out, and a book-buying public was yet in the future tense, he says: "The lean kine had eaten up the fat kine. The thin and withered ea:s had devoured the good ears. The season of rich harvests was over, and the period of famine had begun." Of the public men of the times which followed the Restoration, he says, while allowing them courage, ability, and an even morbid excess of some kinds of talent, "But the curse of Reuben was upon them all: Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel." And, among these, of Sir William Temple he says: He was not destitute of ambition. But his was not one of those souls in which unsatisfied ambition anticipates the tortures of hell, gnaws like the worm which dieth not, and barns like the fire which is not quench ed." Of Cromwell's policy towards Ireland he says: "On those who resisted he had made war as the Hebrews made war on the agree only in spurning out of their way the daysman who strives to take his stand between them and to lay his hand upon them both." In his memorable sketch of the French Revolution one paragraph opens thus: "And now began that strange period known by the name of the Reign of Terror. The Jacobins had prevailed. This was their hour, and the power of darkness." And, once more, of one of its foremost, basest, every way vilest agents, he emphatically declares: "Whatsoever things are false, whatsoever things are dishonest, whatsoever things are impure, whatsoever things are hateful, whatsoever things are of evil report, if there be any vice, and if there be any infamy, all these things, we knew, were blended in Barère." If this be to parody holy Paul,-then at least may parody be a thing most serious, stern, and sad. But to prose any longer is forbidden us: the veto, from which there is no appeal, of that unpliant, implastic power, the Printer, summarily disposes of all our fine paragraphs about other traits of Mr. Macaulay's authorship-his special hates and loves, both of them apt to be one-sided and lavish;-his Whiggism, and partisan tone and temper,the large compass of his reading, and his evident disrelish (however negatively proved) for the German and transcendental school, which upon him alone of great contemporary critics seems to have failed to tell,-his familiarity with the gossip of history and politics, with their scandal, chit-chat, flying rumors, and back stairs whisperings, his perhaps unrivalled tact in sifting for his readers a world of documentary refuse, and giving | Serbonian bogs, fit only for bookworms to them the available result as a quintessence riddle in,-and other note-worthy points in -in constructing a smooth, pleasant road- his Essays and Reviews, leaving out altoway of narrative through the moors and gether, as beyond our scope, the Speeches mosses many of history's cumbered estates, in Parliament, the History of England, and a picturesque short-cut through what seem the Lays of Ancient Rome. From Hogg's Instructor. LIFE IN CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY. As public attention is now being directed to certain contemplated reforms in the EngJish universities, it may be interesting to have a glimpse of the mode of life pursued in one of those seats of learning. Being best acquainted with the University of Cambridge, we shall give a sketch of the manner of life spent in this Alma Mater. The university consists of seventeen colleges, each of which is an independent body under a common government, like the United States of America. But, unlike the transatlantic republic, the governing board is a privileged oligarchy, after the manner of one of the old close boroughs which were swept away by the Reform Bill. The first item of the projected university reform refers to adapting this literary parliament to the liberal institutions of the age, which has already been done in the case of Oxford. Though the buildings are commonly called colleges, this term properly belongs to the collective body of Masters, Fellows, and Scholars, who derive emoluments of different kinds from the foundation or college property, which was given or bequeathed by various persons. The members or students only reside at college for the purpose of education. The edifices are of different sizes, and vary in architectural design and grandeur; but they generally consist of several large square courts, surrounded with uniform ranges of building. The entrance to the outer courts is through large gates, some of which are very handsome; and there are flights of stairs leading to a number of apartments, apportioned to the fellows and students. Two rooms and a pantry are the ordinary allotment for each habitant, whose name is painted at the foot of the stair, as VOL. XXXV.-NO. IV. well as on the door of his chambers, of which he keeps a key to admit himself at pleasure, a duplicate being held by the bed-maker. The colleges are not necessarily contiguous to one another, though this is the case with some of them: they are scattered through the town, and have large gardens or walks, for the convenience and health of the members. Some of these grounds are open to the public, who have thus an opportunity of recreating themselves in pleasant places; for the walks are very picturesque, in grand avenues of lofty trees, amidst verdant fields, by the side of the peaceful Cam. Such are fit places for meditation of an elevated character, and where the mind may well ruminate upon the food with which it has been in secret supplied. Indeed, all the external associations of college life are interesting, and captivating to a sombre imagination. There is something bewitching in the idea of dwelling in one of those massive piles of building, and gliding in classic costume through the silent courts or cloisters, strolling along the magnificent paths, frequenting the splendid library, and being surrounded with all possible helps and stimulants to ransack the arcana of science, and become acquainted with nature's deepest mysteries! The nymphs of the Cam are wooed by a few such contemplative spirits, but are frequently invited to sights and scenes of a more stirring charac ter. The buildings of some colleges are not sufficiently large to receive all their students, and the surplus are accommodated in private lodgings, licensed for this purpose by the proper authorities. The lodging keepers are obliged, like the college porters, to furnish a report of the conduct of the students, especially of their 31 3 regularity in coming home at night. They semblage may be seen the two Proctors, in a peculiar costume, each carrying as his badge of office a huge volume of university statutes, strongly bound with clasps, and suspended by chains. These heavy tomes are brought to church by the Proctor's bull-dogs, as they are usually termed-two rough-looking fellows, attired in a long cloth gown with gilt buttons, the train of which they carry over their left arm, "prepared to run." The bull dogs, as in faithful duty bound, attend their masters when they take their walks abroad, to see how matters go in the streets, and pounce upon any unfortunate student who is found misbehaving in public, or appearing without his proper costume, consisting of cap and gown, which he ought always to wear before ten in the morning, and after dark. Some curious stories are told of these bull-dog chases, and the expedients to which a clever head has had recourse, to escape from being taken. We have heard of one who was hunted down an alley, out of which there was no other exit; but he had wit enough to run into a barber's shop, and, throwing off hat and coat, began to shave the barber's man, so that, when the pursuers entered, they did not recognize the man they had been chasing, and lost scent of their game. The Proctors hold office for only one year, and are annually chosen from the Graduates. They are much disliked, especially by the sparks, on account of the check which is put upon their natural liberty. Lectures are delivered by the university professors, some of whom the students are enjoined to hear, according to the year of their residence; but attendance upon the others is voluntary. Each student is expected to be present at muster three times a-day-at prayers, lecture, and dinner; for, in case their young minds should be so occupied with study as to make them forget their religious devotions, the treacherous memory is assisted by a bell call ing them to chapel, where prayers are read twice a-day; and, on saints' days and vigileves, the students are attired in surplices, and an anthem is sung by the choristers. Each gentleman must attend these services eight times a-week, or else he is fined. This eight is not to be thought a mystical number, but as implying the saying or hearing of prayers once every week-day, and twice on the Sabbath. Yet, in some colleges at least, the going twice on Sunday counts for three times out of the eight-according to the sailor's adage, "the better the day, the better the deed.' Eminent men are successively chosen to occupy the pulpit of University Church for a month at a time, each of whom, during his period, reads a sermon every Sunday after-away to partake of a better repast in a private noon. In this capacious edifice, the Undergraduates, as many as please to go, occupy the side and back galaries, in which, perhaps, half of them could be accommodated, for it is not expected that young gentlemen should be sermon-hunters. The "Heads of Houses" are supposed to be more piously inclined, and a whole gallery is reserved for their use. Graduates have part of the ground area, technically called the pit, allotted for their convenience or inconvenience; but, as the service only lasts an hour, they need not be nice as to the manner of sederunt. Amongst this as Dinner is as important a part of college régime as the daily prayers or lecture; for the body needs feeding as well as the soul. Commons are provided for all the students, and they are expected to be present at the dinner hour. Some come into the hall, and after waiting until their names are ticked off, go manner; thus paying for two dinners, whilst they only eat of one. We know not if dinner be one of the reforms contemplated by Prince Albert and Lord John Russell; but it is certainly a subject which merits attention. In the larger colleges, where a great many hungry stomachs have to be satisfied, a dinner scene might form a good subject for the pencil of a clever artist. The young gentlemen make a rush to the seats, each endeavoring to get as near as possible to a joint of meat. As soon as grace has been said, the successful candidate for the first slice helps himself to whatever portion of the meat suits his taste or | The Fellows and Fellow-commoners have a table to themselves, where all things are done decently and in order, and their equanimity with their own good cheer is not disturbed by the confusion which reigns around. Of the Fellows, we shall presently have occasion to speak. The Fellow commoners are students of wealth or rank, who are able to pay more for their education than other members; they are, therefore, furnished with superior fare and accommodation, and are entitled to wear gold or silver trimmings on their gowns and caps. This latter privilege is a little singular in a place where only merit should be distinguish ed; and it savors more of the milliner or coquette than of the severe student. Perhaps its alteration is amongst the reforms which are contemplated; especially as we perceive that military costume is attracting notice in head-quarters. tea, are procured by each student according to his liking, kept in his pantry along with the needful kettle and crockery, and consumed at the time and in the manner which suit him best, being then waited upon by no less distinguished a personage than himself-unless additional help be procured by money, which "answereth to all things." Lectures finish at two P. M.; and from that hour to four is supposed to be a proper and sufficient time for recreation in the open air. Some walk, some ride, some drive, some betake themselves to the cricket-ground, the tennis court, or the billiard-room; but the favorite exercise is boating. A few minutes after two o'clock, streams of collegians are seen hurrying down the streets which lead to the Cam, crossing the spacious common in various directions. They hasten to one of the large boat establishments, where dressingrooms are kept for their convenience, and soon appear in the costume of their several clubsin jackets and caps of white, red, blue, green, purple, pink, crimson, striped, &c. The boats used for diversion are of several descriptions; but the most esteemed are the "funny" and the eight oared boat. In the former, only one man can sit, and he requires to balance himself with great nicety, as the funny is long and very narrow, and the seat is elevated. Some men get several duckings before they can sit steadily on this frail bark, which would be overset by a wrong movement of the oar; but they row it with great rapidity, shooting like a mermaid along the quiet stream. The "eightoar" is the favorite for races; and prizes are obtained by the successful competitors. These boats are beautifully constructed, shaped and polished with greatest care. Some of the eightoared outriggers cost above eighty pounds. It is an animating scene to behold a number of these boats vying with each other, pulled by crews of athletic youths in the uniforms of their different clubs. Besides dinner, the members are entitled to a certain quantity of bread and butter. For the sake of conveniently apportioning the last named commodity, a pound of it is rolled out into a yard's length, when it is easily divided by measure into the precise number of inches Before four o'clock, a stream of youthful which each man ought to consume. Hence life again sets in for the colleges; and stragbutter is usually sold in Cambridge market glers may be seen running with all their reby the yard; and the country people furnish maining strength, to be in time for dinner, or themselves with baskets of a suitable length. at least for the muster-roll. It has been reckWo to the luckless wight who is caught sell- oned peculiarly burtful to the morals of the ing a shorter length! The college authorities students to go to the Newmarket horse-races, have power in the market to measure and and absence from dinner on such days is alto. weigh what is brought thither for sale, and together forbidden; the penalty being rustica bring all delinquents to condign punishment. Their interference in this and other town affairs has produced a quarrel between them and the municipal authorities, which is now being settled by arbitration. Coffee, bohea, sugar, and other requisites for breakfast and tion-that is, being sent "down" for a season.. Nevertheless they do go to the races, and the penalty has usually been borne by poor horses, many of which have died from the exertions of the occasion. Newmarket is only thirteen miles off, and as the young gents who |