other people, a prime favourite, whose indefatigable good humour and sterling honesty of heart had not been expended in vain. Who could be sad when Mat Maybird was near, to jest and laugh, and sympathize? but, if Annette too were with him Sir Edward Ellerton and Kate were not to wed until their affairs were finally arranged, which arrangement could not take place until autumn gave sign of her approach. Mat Maybird and Annette had agreed, for the sake of harmony, to wait for the same day—a day which had long since been fixed by Cicely, in the case of her beloved, Willie Bats. Willie, as the spring waned, and summer's first stray smiles brought the consummation of his love more near, became disconsolate. He could not find a treasure! It was vexatious. He had sought diligently; he had sought carefully; alas! why was it that, in spite of all his labours, he had sought in vain! Now, too, the thought became every day, with each new disappointment, more fresh, more vivid in his mind, that though he still sought on, still he should succeed no better. Edward had observed his care, and ascertained its cause. Mat Maybird voted it an eyesore. Willie was invited to ride over to Ellerton, to ascertain the progress of repairs at the castle. The exercise seemed efficacious; for Willie Bats returned home in high spirits, having parted for good with his despondency. Edward's titles were speedily acknowledged, and, with the intelligence of his full establishment into all the honours they afforded, arrived a communication to Master Maybird, by which he found that the king, in redemption of his pledge given on the occasion of their last interview, had presented to his loyal and valiant subject, in consideration of numerous important and valuable services rendered to the state, Carnwood and its dependencies; provided that Sir Hubert de St. Fay would consent to part with them, on receiving, in lieu of these, other possessions of a value more than was equivalent. To any other hands than those of Mat Maybird, Sir Hubert would have hesitated in resigning the power over his faithful vassals; but Mat was a favourite amongst them, popular as himself; and, as he knew that the transfer of power would not be in any way to their prejudice, he willingly consented to render up his estate and tenantry to the sway of his generous and merry friend. Mat Maybird then became host at Carnwood. Happily, therefore, the summer days fleeted on to a close, and, in good time, the awaited period arrived. One wing of the castle was completed, sufficient for all present wants; the rest was rapidly in progress. The first days of August had arrived.— "Dost not remember, Kate," said Edward, "that 'twas on the eighth of August, a year since-on the day of our village festival, that all our troubles first commenced; on that day now let us conclude them." The eighth of August! Early on that day, a happy party left Carnwood for Ellerton. There the villagers, in their holiday clothes, received with rapturous enthusiasm their lord and lady; pretty children there strewed fresh flowers in their path, and minstrels, glowing with the theme, sang their welcome to the happy pair all knew and loved so well. In the old ivied church, whose simple pillars were decked with garlands twined by many a friendly hand, the pious Father Francis joined their hands. Sir Edward Ellerton and Kate Westrill, Mat Maybird and Annette de Vermont, Willie Bats and the most charming Cicely, became, separately and severally, united pairs; then left the solemn ceremony, once more to greet the smiling, happy faces that beamed their welcome from without. Kate once again, and for the last time, amid shouts of rapture, took her seat upon the rustic throne as village queen; and once more with her sweet smile repaid the victors in the rural games. Edward, for the sake of old and dear recollections, joined awhile in the contest, and received, as of old, a cross-bow from Kate's hands; then, as her mild blue eyes were bright with love and happiness, and his with an untainted joy, the enthusiasm of the village leapt beyond bounds. The good old priest, shedding tears of delight at the happiness around him, was upon the green caressing all, by all caressed; and Joe Bensal had left his cottage by the wood, to present his jovial face at the festivity. Mat Maybird, wholly forgetting that he was the noble lord of Carnwood, introduced the wild Annette, sparkling with wit and pleasure, to his village friends, and himself sported among all; despite his recent wedding, kissing all the girls, and then his happy wife as well, to stop her scolding. Willie Bats took his own charmer to the cottage she had lived in with Kate Westrill: it was newly thatched, and newly whitewashed; the rooms were all neatly and prettily furnished; the garden was tastefully laid out, and full of blooming flowers in its best days it had never looked so pleasant. "Ah! who is going to live here now!" asked Cicely. "We are," replied Willie, running over with happiness. "This is mine, charmer, mine and thine! Sir Edward gave it me, and it is he that did all this; and yet more, I have now fields to till; and I mean to be industrious, and not trust to chance; hunting no more after treasure-a vain waste of time-for I never found any -any, excepting one." "And what was that one, Willie ?" "That," replied Willie, kissing his wife, "that, charming Cicely, was when I hit on thee!" Meanwhile the revels on the green continued; then all repaired to the castle, where, in the great hall, a feast was ready. Edward and Kate did the honours of the board, and, as they took their places, the long deserted walls echoed boldly back the prolonged shouts of heartfelt pleasure that arose from the delighted villagers. Kate, the sweet Kate they loved, and their own favourite Heringford were among them, happy now, as they deserved to be; their sorrows now at end. None envied them their sudden elevation; it was their due, and, in the hearts of their fond friends, if not also in the world's dull eye, they had held its equal from the first. At last the happy day was at an end, and the inhabitants of Ellerton returned to the village they had, for a time, deserted; Willie Bats, too, the foremost of the train, led his Cicely to the house he proudly called his own, the cottage that was dear to Cicely's memory, and which to him also recalled days of untold love. There she was installed the mistress, and he, as master, vowed to her he would deserve the happy fortune that was his. A huge bonfire was lighted, whose flame danced merrily through the night. Morning came; then, and for the succeeding week, the festivities were continued ; after which, Mat Maybird returned with Annette to Carnwood; De Vermont and Sir Hubert, who had grown staunch friends, went to London for a time; and the rest of the company departing, Sir Edward remained, surrounded by his earliest and truest friends, happy in Kate's love, and proud to share with her the wealth and honours that accrued to the noble and illustrious restorer of the old glories of ELLERTON CASTLE. (The End of Ellerton Castle.) THE EARLY GRAVE. "Whom the gods love die young, was said of yore, The death of friends, and that which slays e'en more. OH! weep not o'er the early grave; Ere yet by all we love forgot, Were it not better thus to die, BYRON. E'en in the morning of our day, To yield betimes its parting breath, The infant in his little bed, Can feel no more life's galling chain; Can teach his little heart to bleed; No poverty, with grasp of steel, Can wring from him the bitter tear- E'en hunger now he cannot feel. Who knows, within his narrow cell, What happy dreams of bliss may come, What visions of his own dear home, Who knows, who knows, what angel eyes Then wherefore should the spirit fear C. H. H. ON THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS. ACCORDING to the view taken of this subject, will be the extent and difficulty of handling it. To write a panegyric on the classics, or to point out the intrinsic beauties of any old authors, forms no part of the intention of the writer. The eloquence of many modern writers has made this hallowed ground. To attempt a wide and comprehensive defence of the introduction of this study into modern education, would be impracticable in so limited a space, and presumptuous in execution. Men of note for learning and abilities have already handed down their opinions, or written their vindications; but these were chiefly in answer to sound and well-urged objections, and to repulse no feeble adversaries. Now, among the belligerents against any system will always be found some of more clamour than strength, who brandish a few arguments in the face of their opponents, with troublesome and vexatious perseverance. And since a feeble arm can encounter only feeble cnemies, let doughty deeds fall to the lot of the mighty, whilst in a more ignoble strife we dare to raise a weapon in defence of the honoured structure which has withstood so many assaults. But to descend from metaphor, the design of this paper is to offer a few remarks on the classics, considered merely as a study-as an occupation for the intellect; and to combat, if there be space, some of the objections urged against the place it holds in our education. It will be soon seen that the area is somewhat limited-that the fruitful field of praise and declamation, on the beauty, majesty, &c., of the old classic authors, is shut against us; and it is to be hoped that we shall not suffer in the reader's opinion for this forbearance. Omitting, therefore, all mention of the well-known and acknowledged advantages which result from the study of the ancient classics, in the formation of a chaste and elegant turn of mind, and of the benefits derived from a close and constant contemplation of the most exquisite models, we would first endeavour to make a stand against those who maintain that the improvement which follows upon a long study of words and expressions, does not at all compensate for the loss of time which might be so much better employed; that it is a trifling with the intellect, to fix it wholly on |