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 enjoy
the society of a friend or two, he is secure against interruption. It is
not so in a house, not by any means; there is not the same protection in
a house, even in the best-contrived house. The servant is bound to
answer the door; he must appear and give some excuse: he may betray, by