'All of its own accord, little Faun, does thy flute go on ringing? Why, with ears to the reed, listenest the livelong day?' Smiling, he holds his peace: an answer maybe had come winging, Only he pays no heed, rapt in oblivion away. Nay, not the wax withholds him; his whole soul, charmed with the singing, Gives back silence for meed, silent rewarding the lay. This fine description of Niobe and her children is the only one of Daughter of Tantalus! hearken my words-a message to mourn Loosen thine hair, poor mother, that bared'st for deity's scorn Now not a son is left thee. Fresh horror! for what do I see? One in the arms of her mother, and one as she clings to her knee, One faces death with a shudder erect; one bends on the dart; Last, there is one that looks on the daylight alone. Niobe, she that erewhile loved boasting, with fear at her heart Stands yet quick-a breathing mother of stone. But this is the loveliest of the group, full of the care and passion of real grief: Pericles, Archias' son! To thee they place At twenty years thou sleep'st death's sleep profound, And undisturbed by beasts that prowl around. I shall not do the next one of Leonidas about a drunken Anacreon. Here are two pretty ones of Meleager instead about a cup and a picture (v. 171):— Bright laughs the cup-for 'I have kissed,' it saith, "Thy lady's laughing mouth.' Too happy cup! Oh! that, her lips to my lips, at a breath And (v. 149): My lady's kiss would drink my spirit up! Ah! who hath shown my lady unto me, Who brought to me one of the Graces three Full surely brings he me a joyful thing, And for his grace the grace of thanks I bring. But I must not give Meleager the lion's share again in this groupthat is almost the last of his I shall be able to put in. These two of Plato's with which Mr. Wright finishes the section are admirably contrasted in tone, and both quite perfect. This is for a ring : See! five oxen graven on a jasper gem! To the life! and feeding one and all of them. Stay-will they not run away-the beasties? No, the fold Of this golden circlet our little herd shall hold. It is as fanciful as a nursery rhyme. The other is as joyous and stately as Milton. Silent! shaggy scaur that Dryads keep. Lo! the dance awakens at his call. Let your young feet trip it merrily, Waternymphs and woodnymphs one and all! Mr. Wright's last section contains what I might call the epigrams of thought. The first is Palladas'-(I had almost written Shakespeare's). He was a late writer. All life's a stage and farce. Or learn to play, And the next two are his also. Naked to earth was I brought-naked to earth I descend. Breathing the thin breath through our nostrils, we If with the hand one quench our draught of breath, The next beautiful one-quite Tennysonian-is attributed to Æsopus in the Palatine Anthology, though Mr. Wright gives it no master. Is there no help from life save only death? 'Sweet are stars, sun, and moon, and sea, and earth, For service and for beauty these had birth, But all the rest of life is little worth 'Yea, all the rest is pain and grief,' saith he, 'For if it hap some good thing come to me This of Agathias is most charming in its naïveté. Certainly he is the latest of the epigrammatists. But this complaint of girls for secluded life might have been written very few years ago. Not such your burden, happy youths, as ours- Along the streets and see the painters' shows. And there our thoughts are dull enough, God knows! The next, by Agathias too, is true now-a-days and always. At this smooth marble table let us sit And while away the time with dice a bit! And the dice test our power to self-restrain. This one by Poseidippus, some seven hundred years earlier, has been well done by Sir John Beaumont together with its answer, attributed to Metrodorus. I am tempted to do it again though, as it just fits a sonnet. Show me some path of life! The market-place Married, what care! single, what loneliness! Or straight to die, having but just seen the light. For this next-Ptolemy's, who lived about two centuries and a half on in the Christian era-I shall borrow a turn of rhyme from Robert Browning. I know that I am mortal and the creature of a day. This is more familiar. The author is unknown, but the text is as old as Solomon. Drink and be merry! for what is the future and what is the morrow? Feast as thou may'st, and do good and distribute: but let not life borrow The last but one is a poem of Marcus Argentarius, also late, full of a beautiful hedonism. The golden stars are quiring in the west, And in their measure will I dance my best, High on my head a crown of flowers I raise And the whole firmament were wrong Had it no crown, no song. 2 This crown, this song, this 'order' of life was what made Greek humanity divine. There is no more concise expression of the intimacy between daily life and ritual than that little verse contains in the heart of it. It is the most Greek but, perhaps Mr. Wright thought, not the most philosophic strain to end with, and he brings us to a full stop with Philodemus' resolutions. I loved-and you. I played-who hath not been Hence with it all! Then dark my youthful head, I gathered roses while the roses blew. Playtime is past, my play is ended too. Awake, my heart! and worthier aims pursue. There is a note of Herrick again in that. We found one of Philodemus' love-songs in the third group, and noticed its sigh of sadness, 'Poor lovers I and thou.' We saw that he too came from Gadara and was a contemporary of Meleager. It is strange to catch the selfsame notes ringing from the midst of that Syrian culture, which we hear echo our own longings of to-day in the poets of the golden age of Elizabeth. WILLIAM M. HARDINGE. 2 The allusion in the poem is to the constellations of Orpheus and Ariadne-a lute and crown. UNIVERSITY WORK IN GREAT TOWNS. In the prospect of changes which may be initiated by the present Universities Commissions, it is important that public attention should be directed to various forms of useful activity outside the recognised sphere of University work, which have been spontaneously undertaken by the authorities of Oxford and Cambridge during the last few years. It cannot certainly be said that the impulse for reform and development has been communicated to either University wholly from without. Nothing has been more honourably characteristic of both bodies, especially of their younger members, of late, than the desire to find new worlds to conquer, and to claim for the Universities a larger share in the best intellectual and educational movements which are going on in the nation. The establishment at Oxford, mainly at the suggestion of Bishop Temple, of the system of local examinations adapted for schoolboys has had far-reaching and unexpected results. Cambridge was not slow to adopt the same step; girls were soon included in the scheme as well as boys; and the usefulness of the examinations has so grown that in the last year Oxford examined 1,670 boys and 634 girls, and Cambridge no less than 4,681 candidates, of whom 3,002 were boys and 1,679 girls. The influence of these examinations is in no wise measurable by these numbers, or limited to those who are actually presented for examination. Those who best know the interior of the higher schools, both private and public, from which these candidates are drawn, testify that the system has given definiteness to the aims of teachers, revealed deficiencies, and improved methods; has encouraged pupils and given them new motives for exertion; and has done much to raise and ennoble the character of secondary education throughout the country. Cambridge has since gone a step farther, and by means of its higher local examinations for non-resident students above eighteen has placed within the reach of young men, and-what is of still more importance-of women also, a certificate of attainment hardly inferior in value to an ordinary degree. By the establishment of a Joint Board, the Universities have also provided for the inspection and examination of grammar and public schools, and for the award to their pupils of a certificate, which while, relatively to the school life, it shall serve as a terminus ad quem or leaving certificate, |