hame were so callous,
And have always so widely from decency swerved,
That it well might be urged, if their statues were scourged
And then thrown in the kennel, their doom was deserved.

The pontiffs and priests, who have lost all their feasts,
And the oracles shorn of their hecatomb herds,
Having nothing to carve, if they don't wish to starve,
Must feed upon falsehoods and eat their own words.

O'er these mountebanks dead, be this epitaph read,
"The Gods, Priests and Oracles buried beneath,
Who were ever at strife which should lie most in life,
Here _lie_ all alike in corruption and death."

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

* * * * *

SHELLEY AT OXFORD.

A delightful paper, entitled, _Percy Bysshe Shelley at Oxford_ is now in
course of appearance in the _New Monthly Magazine_, from the pen of a
fellow collegian and an early admirer of the genius of the youthful
poet. It is in part conversational. Thus, Shelley _loquitur_:--

"I regret only that the period of our residence is limited to four
years; I wish they would revive, for our sake, the old term of six or
seven years. If we consider how much there is for us to learn," here he
paused and sighed deeply through that despondency which sometimes comes
over the unwearied and zealous student; "we shall allow that the longer
period would still be far too short!" I assented, and we discoursed
concerning the abridgement of the ancient term of residence, and the
diminution of the academical year by frequent, protracted and most
inconvenient vacations. "To quit Oxford," he said, "would be still more
unpleasant to you than to myself, for you aim at objects that I do not
seek to compass, and you cannot fail since you are resolved to place
your success beyond the reach of chance." He enumerated with extreme
rapidity, and in his enthusiastic strain, some of the benefits and
comforts of a college life. "Then the _oak_ is such a blessing," he
exclaimed with peculiar fervour, clasping his hands, and repeating
often--"the oak is such a blessing!" slowly and in a solemn tone. "The
oak alone goes far towards making this place a paradise. In what other
spot in the world, surely in none that I have hitherto visited, can you
say confidently, it is perfectly impossible, physically impossible, that
I should be disturbed? Whether a man desire solitary study, or to enjo