Two circum- | which aroused the heads of Eton to so decisive a measure as the abolition of the ancient festival. It may be asked whether the money once raised at Montem will still be secured from some other source, such as the College revenues, or from periodical contributions? If so large a bonus is lost every three years to the College, it will appear to many a serious subtraction from its educational resources. Many regretted that, with the notice for the abolition of Montem, an intimation was not given that a LAST festival would be permitted; but the masters were probably fearful of the excitement which might have arisen under such circumstances, and would not give to poor father Montem the right of entry for one hour. for its suppression in the year 1542. Last Whit-Tuesday was indeed a time of mourning for many; but after grave consideration we assign the palm of sincere grief to the cab and omnibus men, many of whom expressed their sorrow on that day by wearing black crape on their arms. But why was Montem doomed to perish? why could it not have existed as a memorial of past times, serving, like the squibs and crackers on the 5th of November, and the gar landed sweeps on the 1st of May, to remind us of events and times so far removed? Surely, some sturdy advocate will say, whilst Temple Bar is cherished, Montem might have been patronized. Many also urged an argument drawn, not from antiquity and memory of the past, but from the benefits conferred upon the senior scholar, who received so large a share of the salt. Notwithstanding all these appeals, discharged from meetings in London, and through the press, the provost, Dr. Hodgson, and the head master, Dr. Hawtrey, voted for abolition. Why? It will be presumed that no disposition has been evinced by either of these gentlemen to interfere ruthlessly with old customs, which bind us to a past age not wholly unworthy of our remembrance. No such charge can be reasonably advanced against either the provost or the head master; both have ever consulted the great interests of the school in preference to any personal predilections. Montem fell because its existence was deemed injurious to the school We are not here stating an opinion of our own, but the deliberate convictions of the Eton authorities, who must be admitted to possess abundant opportunities for forming their judgments on such a subject. Few can estimate the whole extent of the evil consequences attendant upon the celebration of Montem, except the masters of the school, and a few of those more immediately connected with the institution. But, when it is remembered that the boys and young men regarded the day as a complete saturnalia, as one of perfect liberty, and impunity; when we also bear in mind the thousands who flocked from all parts; the open inns, the free use of wine amongst the youths, and the consequent intoxication of the scholars; all persons will easily perceive the nature of the evils Last Whit-Tuesday did not, however, pass off as an ordinary day at Eton. The boys, who might have cared little for the result during the deliberations between the pro-Montemists and the anti-Montemists, got rather dissatisfied when the day came without bringing their old friend. Then the feeling that Montem was really gone took a strong form, and attempted to develop itself in some little outbreaks partaking more of the boyish, than of the philosophical, character. Some unoffending windows, and unconscious lamps, seemed likely to suffer fractures in honour of the insulted shade of Montem. A few desperate adherents actually donned the scarlet coat, endeavouring to look something like Montem heroes; but it would not do; the very air of the quadrangle, and the bricks in the old college wall, seemed sulky; and it was clear, that the spirit of vengeance was lurking in a hundred hearts, all anxious to avenge the slaughter of their old favourite. One melancholy party actually prepared to celebrate the "funeral of Montem," and proposing to bury him on the scene of his former triumphs. Some mysterious ceremony was, towards evening, performed on Salt Hill; but whether it assumed the form of a great conspiracy to restore Montem to his throne, or of a solemn league and covenant to construe no more Greek till he returned, our deponents say not. Something was rumoured by the denizens of Salt Hill about a great shouting and "the waving of a flag;" but their sorrow rendered them too incoherent to give trustworthy evidence. Thus, another symbol of the past has left us, to mourn over our isolation from former ages, or to rejoice that the field is cleared for modern operations-just as our principles and feelings may dictate. We cannot, however, be surprised that thousands regret the departure, one by one, of old customs and pageants, which were either closely connected with our ancient history, or reflected some peculiar spirit of the age before us. This reverence for the symbols of the past, even when they have lost much of their former significance, is natural to man; and, though it may be indulged at the expense of still higher feelings, such an abuse does not prove the spirit itself to be wrong. He who would hide all antiquity from his view, and obliterate every emblem of by-gone times, is far more unreasonable than the man who desires to contemplate the past only. Both are unreasonable, but the admirer of antiquity has a world abounding with great events and noble characters, upon which he may gaze with the feeling that the object of his delight owes nothing to modern times; for the ancients flourished without us. But the modern man, who despises all the past, does, in fact, pour contempt on the institutions of his country, and the customs of the society in which he lives; for these are derived, in many particulars, from preceding ageswe cannot do without the ancients. Were the soil on which the pyramids stand proved to be the most fertile on earth, we should not be willing to destroy these giant piles, in order to turn their sites into arable fields. Our reverence for the past would prevent us. Yet, a skilful disputant might argue, that good corn fields are of more service to men than all the pyramids. Let us, therefore, combine the two feelings which should ever co-exist-reverence for the past, with love for the present. We shall then attack no symbol on the tomb of antiquity with a rude hand, nor injure our own times by trammelling them in the robes of remote periods. Such reflections have been forced upon us by the abolition of the Eton Montem, and the different feelings with which that event has been regarded. We can only, in conclusion, express a hope that the honourable principles which flourished in remote ages, and the spirit of the charter of Eton College, will long live in that ancient foundation, forming great and manly minds for the national service. The abolition of Montem will then call for few regrets; as it need excite no irritation in the minds of present or former Etonians. W. D. COUNTRY SKETCHES. No. I. THE GRAVE OF ISAAC WALTON. THERE are few places of more interest than Winchester. The venerable cathedral would of itself amply repay the cost and trouble of a summer day's pilgrimage. The hospital of St. Cross is a most interesting structure, and is in many respects perfectly unique. Then there is the college, with its curious ecclesiastical brasses and the celebrated quaint figure. The market-cross, the round table, the ancient gateways, the ruins of the cas tle, and the numerous churches, are all objects of attraction, and will afford the antiquary and artist very great gratification and pleasure. The opportunities of visiting this city are now so great, and the means so accessible by reason of the railways; that, from London or the west of England, the journey can be accomplished with very little expense, and in very short time. It is not, however, my intention to lead the reader to the contemplation of the architectural beauties of the work of William of Wykeham, or to invite him to linger in the cloisters of the beautiful hospital of St. Cross. He may, if he pleases, eat a munchet of bread and drink a horn of beer at the porch of the hospital, and bless the bounty that has so liberally provided for the corporeal necessities of pilgrims and wayfarers like himself; but, having thus far satisfied the cravings of nature, let him follow me by the banks of the sweet river Ichen; he shall listen to the pleasant ditties of the birds, and hear a music, an he lists, in the light-toned trembling of the reeds. The gaily decked kingfisher shall hover round the trunks of the moss-grown trees, and the trout shall rise with their burnished fins so to tempt him, that he shall scarce forbear the use of his rod and line. And the nightingalas! aye, they shall feed the air with their melodious warblings. Very fragrant, too, shall the wandering breezes be, laden with the delicious aroma of the new-made hay. Bees, and blossoms, and all fragile things, shall float in the clear and ambient air, so if he be not cheerful and content he will be truly "a grave man." Of a verity, it is a lovely spot, and, all England over, there is none other to be found so suggestive of one who once listened to the singing of its birds, and who angled many a summer's day in its pure and peaceful waters. And not far from this he rests in the long sleep of the night that knows no waking. Who has not read the Complete Art of Angling, by Isaac Walton, Gent. Who has not followed him by this same stream, and by the Lea, and heard him discourse upon the dainty pleasures of his favourite pursuit? Who can ever forget his descriptions of rural life in that quaint old tome, or his free and pleasant colloquies ? Above all, and through all, what a true and unaffected piety! what a humble sense of the divine blessings! what a fervent expression of gratitude and joy for the beauties with which the gladsome and teeming earth so copiously abound! He is truly worthy to be ranked amid the number of those who string their lyres to gentle verse. The apathy of a past and a passing age has too lightly regarded that amusing volume. Many who look on angling as a cruel pastime, and unworthy their attention, have turned with indifference and aversion from those delightful pages. Open the book once with a fair and honest attention, and thou must read on, oh! lover of nature, poet, philosopher, moralist, or whatever other title thou dost call thyself! It is a book for all ages, and all times. Thou must needs be critical if there is aught to offend thee in it. It is a perfect English pastoral-an idyll in prose. To enjoy it as it ought to be enjoyed, let it be read by the side of some murmuring stream, where the waters, flowing with a gentle sound, shall be the sweet and fitting accompaniment to the voice of one who being dead yet speaketh. It is the sweetest commentary on the scenery of river-ways that was ever sung or said. It is enough to persuade any one to turn piscator, and to realise its contents in his own person. But let not the gentle reader forget that he has been roaming by the side of the Ichen, and, having accomplished so agreeable a stroll, let him pat:se to admire the effect of the beautiful columns, direct his steps to the antique Minster. There he may and lose himself in a transport of delight, as the organ's solemn peal is heard vibrating through arch and transept. The choir, too, is particularly good, and he may listen with ever renewed pleasure to the voices so happily blended. But it is my wish that he bend his south transept by screens of stone tracery work. It is steps to a chapel formed in the eastern aisle of the called Silkstede's Chapel. He was a prior from 1498 to 1524. On the cornice or crest of the stone screen his christian name Thomas is so carved that the mono| gram M. A. is distinguished from the other letters. The Virgin Mary having been his patroness, it was in A skein of silk, this manner he testified to the fact the rebus of his surname, also appears. by a blue stone. Upon entering the chapel the eye will be soon arrested Hereunder lies all that is mortal of Isaac Walton. Reader! it is worth more than a passing glance, so let us pause and read the inscription. Before doing so, we may see for a fleeting moment in our mind's eye, the good old angler in his habit as he lived; we may hear the utterance of one of his sweet homilies on nature, and then, bending reverently forward, trace these lines:- HERE RESTETH THE BODY OF Alas! he's gone before; We wish our souls with his. VOTIS MODESTIS SIC FLEKUNT LIBERI." So, almost within sound of one of his most favourite rivers, lies the body of the old High Priest of Anglers. Peace to his ashes! It is by no means improbable that the spot was selected by himself. Oftentimes he would lay aside his rod and tackle, to cogitate and muse on the things that never fade. Doubtless he must have wandered, amid the pausings of his art, through the cloisters and aisles of the beautiful cathedral, and, after reviewing the delicate tracery and fretwork all round him, he may have entered Prior Silkstede's ch pel, and letting his staff tall gently down, may have exclaimed, Here let me lie!" "Come away, There are several portraits of him; one in the pos- | to the port, in which a thousand vessels could have session of the Earl Cowper bears a striking resemblance been moored securely. As men were travelling in to the plate which is appended to the first edition of his search of new habitations, and marvellous diswork on angling; it represents him to be precisely the coveries were being made on all sides, the princes figure and face one would have expected to see. Gene- of the isle begged a boon of the fairies, who had rosity, benevolence, charity with all men, beam in every been with them from time immemorial, that they trait. The spectator might gaze upon it till he could would use their skill in preventing the curious fancy the lips were utteringwanderers, who had already explored so many spots unknown to all in former ages, from penetrating into their land. The only way in which the isle in so dense a cloud, that none could see the fairies could grant their request was, to envelop through it. Their plan succeeded so admirably, that, although many approached the rocks in the hope of discovering an island, their search was useless, as they found nothing but a dense obscurity, that the strongest eyes could not penetrate. Turn, countryman, with me;" or speaking in goodly commendation of the beauties of the outer world,-praising the earth, the water, the skies, and in all things else manifesting his poet-love for the sweet realities of life. To the voluptuary, the man sated with the unrealities of a career of mingled dissipation and folly, let me advise a stroll by some river's side, and there, with Isaac Walton's pages in his hand, he may taste new life, aye, and inhale a vigour foreign to his wearied senses. He will learn there, how full of fair and soft compensations Nature is; how, to him who seeks it with a trustful faith and a reverent love, she holds forth a draught of the purest nectar,-one which never palls upon the taste; a draught every way superior to the Circean cup of mad enjoyment, which clings to the sensualist, at the renewal of each intoxica-faithful and fitting of the courtiers, to whom the tion, with disgust and loathsome tenacity. To the poet the book is a study, full of sweet conceits and quaint and pleasant prettinesses. To the angler it is a manual, without which his piscatorial equipments would be incomplete. Surely the grave of such a man is worthy a visit, if only to renew and refresh our memories with a feeling of reverence for his departed excellence and worth. So may we pass from out the magnificent Minster, and the chapel of the old prior, into the sunny air, and take our path again by the Ichen's bank s, where we shall feel that the spirit of the old poet-angler hovers all around us, and we shall be led, like him, to praise and thanksgiving for all earth's fairest blessings. Not inaptly may we exclaim, in the words of Sir Walter Raleigh "Blest silent groves! oh, may ye be May pure contents For ever pitch their tents Upon these rocks, these downs, these meads, these mountains, Which we may every year Find, when we come a-fishing here." THE INACCESSIBLE ISLE. A YOUNG princess of remarkable beauty reigned over an island, in which nothing was wanting to satisfy man's desires: the mansions in it were covered with plates of gold, and the palaces were paved with the same rich metal. The inhabitants lived, each one more than a century, in perfect health; and their long life was never embittered by litigation; such games as avarice has invented had no charms for them; they enjoyed that calm bliss which brings with it neither care nor inquietude. This island had been for ages unknown to the rest of mankind; all who dwelt there lived so happily, that they were not willing to leave it, and they did not receive strangers, for fear the simple manners of the inhabitants should be rendered corrupt. The curious men of that age who had spent their life in discoveries, had frequently passed and repassed the island, without having had any acquaintance with its people, for nature had thrown around it a chain of rocks which rendered it inaccessible, and there was only one passage which led After the first two ages had passed away, the princes were seized with a curiosity to know what was passing in the world, and their custom was to send spies, from time to time, to their immediate neighbours for this purpose they chose the most fairies granted the power of flying as far as they pleased, reposing at times upon some rock in their path. They had also given them the power of becoming invisible, by means of robes which they wore, brilliant as the noonday sun. This facility of despatch to their neighbours had informed the islanders of all that was going on in the world without, so that there were to be found among them numbers of politicians, or rather newsbearers, who discussed the absorbing topics of the day, and canvassed the deeds of foreign powers; they frequently surpassed in their knowledge even the most shining characters that we know, who, nevertheless, venture to decide upon the claims of peace and war, without having the least notion of the subject. The princess, who was of a moderate age, grew weary of the calm tranquillity in which she lived: she had ascertained, from the accounts of her spies, that there was a mighty king in the world, who had acquired brilliant glory at the head of his army, and good reputation for his wisdom at home, and that he was redoubtable in the opinion of all his neighbours. He was so mild, so polished, and affable, as to have engaged the affections of his subjects; he held a magnificent court, where all pleasures were to be found; he was occupied in tournaments, the chase, balls, concerts, theatrical entertainments, and banquets, surrounded by a brilliant assemblage of both sexes; still he was the most handsome man among them, and his fine face was united to such majesty of person, that it stamped him at once a hero. He allowed all the painters in his dominions to take his portrait, giving them the liberty of working every morning while he was at his toilet. The princess of the island, who was aware of this, charged one of her spies to convey her into his presence; and as soon as she had seen him, she felt seized with a sudden fit of grief, because her island was unknown to him; the tranquillity of her court appeared insipid, and she esteemed all her courtiers infinitely beneath a king of so handsome a face, and so splendid a reputation. She took to reading works of fine adventures, and would listen to nothing but descriptions of heroes, and their knightly achievements; and at last she imagined that she should never be happy, unless the king, ing with a display of intense feeling, to inform him whether it were possible or not to see this charming princess. for whom she entertained so profound an attachment, would extend his love to her. But how could this be? She was not known, nor the island in which she held sway. She called one of the The envoy replied, that all was possible to so fairies to her, who enjoyed the reputation of the mighty a king, and that the princess, who ruled greatest share of wisdom among all, and after hav-in an island inaccessible to all other powers, would communicated to her the desire she felt to form grant him an easy passage, whom she already an alliance out of her own island, and spoken highly esteemed, in consequence of the favourable of the merits of the mighty king, she inquired by reports that had reached her of his valour and what means she could make him acquainted with wisdom. The king begged the envoy to forward her sentiments, and kindle reciprocal affection for the visit as much as possible, saying, that he could her in his heart. The fairy informed her that the not live without her. "Ask any reward for thy first act must be to render him acquainted with services," continued he, "and it shall be thine.' the island, that he might be curious to know what But the envoy replied that his majesty might see was being done in it, doubting not, that if he once the princess at any convenient time, but that he heard of the merits of the princess who ruled it, could receive no reward, save from the hands of his passion would be stronger for her than for her the princess, to whom he had tendered an oath of deminions. fidelity. Of a truth it seemed that it was the destiny of this mighty king to love the princess, as she was one of the most beautiful creatures in the world, and he had never been in love before, though his court abounded in beauty and talent. The princess, too, seemed to have reserved her heart for the king, for there was no lack of high-born princes and cavaliers in her own court, but she treated them all with the greatest indifference. At length the princess, under the advice of the fairy, resolved to send to the mighty king's court the spy whom she had previously sent; he was to fly thither by means of his fairy power, but instead of rendering himself invisible, he was ordered to make his appearance as a stranger in the course of his travels. The princess supplied him with money and jewels, that he might be enabled to dress in the manner of the country; and by this means he introduced himself into the best company. After having made some stay at the place, he contrived to ingratiate himself with those who were more particularly in the confidence of the great king. One day he was a guest at the table of one of them, and there were other strangers present, and every one began to put forth the peculiar merits of his sovereign. He stated that he had the honour to be a subject of a princess, whom it was more glorious to serve than to rule elsewhere. "I have," said he, "wherewith to justify my assertion," and he produced a portrait of the princess, in a little case, set with precious stones of immense value: it attracted the eyes of all present. They rose to tender homage to her peerless beauty, and to look more closely at her charming face. Tell us," cried they, "what spot in the wide world claims to be the birth-place of so wonderful a princess?" But he declined satisfying their curiosity; and no one repeated the question. The repast was soon over, but the rumour of the surpassing beauty of a princess whom no one had seen, and whose kingdom was unknown, soon reached the court. The king, anxious to know what he had only heard of by snatches, and wishing to see the portrait of so charming a princess, sent to tell the stranger, who had it in his possession, that he wished to speak with him. The envoy, who wished for nothing better, told the king everything that was calculated to arouse his passion for the queen and her kingdom, and then, by displaying the portrait, finished what he had begun by his speech. The king, meanwhile, surprised at such exquisite features, kept his eyes fixed upon the portrait, raising them at times with a deep sigh, and begged the envoy, 66 After a secret conference with the king, the envoy departed homewards, to inform the princess that the mightiest monarch in the world was seized with a passionate desire of seeing her, and that he was coming, with a fleet of unbounded magnificence, if she would condescend to grant him a practicable passage to the island. The princess immediately called to her aid the wise fairy, who placed upon the summits of two rocks, that stood at the sides of the entrance to the port, two immense globular diamonds, which threw out more rays than the sun on the clearest day. The envoy carried back the news to the great king, who set sail instantly, impatient to behold the princess, who was now the delight of his heart. The rumour of the discovery of an island hitherto unknown, and of the beautiful princess, was soon noised over the world; and a neighbouring king, jealous of the prosperity of this mighty monarch, resolved to dispute his claim to the prize, and accordingly followed him with a formidable fleet of war, as soon as he was on the broad ocean. This proved a great subject of fear, for the king, who commanded the fleet, had the aid of a fairy, whose spells were so powerful that nothing had been found hitherto superior to them: she had lately become friendly to this sovereign, and had promised to place all his rivals beneath his feet. The first opportunity that offered itself to test her good intentions, and her mighty power, was this; and its object the conquest of the princess and her island. The two fleets caught the breeze, and sailing near one another approached the island at the same time. The wise fairy who was attached to the interests of the Princess, having ascertained by her art that two fleets were approaching the coast, sent out a troop of dolphins, embued with fairy skill, who, on recognising the fleet of the great king, surrounded his vessel, and piloted him into port. It was a beautiful sight to see this number of sporting dolphins, who vied with each other in their endeavours to approach nearest to the royal ship. Meanwhile, the fleet of the foe, on the contrary, was assailed by hideous monsters of the deep, and by large whales, which obstructed its progress : to increase its disaster, a contrary wind sprang up, and in this interval, the sails of the great king swelled out, and he passed between the two rocks, bearing on them the globes of diamond under the form of beacon-lights. The king, seeing the failure of his hopes, reproached the fairy with her inability to help him at need; but she excused herself to the best of her | power, alleging that it was owing to the influence of a superior fairy; at the same time she hurled an infinite number of fireballs against the fleet of the great king, but in vain, for not a single ball reached half the distance between the two fleets. The king, in despair, finding that his rival triumphed over all his projects, set all sail to pursue after him, but a terrible storm instantly arose, and his fleet was speedily dispersed; some of the ships were dashed upon the rocks that formed the ramparts of the isle,-he who commanded it was thrown ashore upon his own coasts; but the great king made his entry into the port of the isle to the sound of a thousand trumpets. Who shall tell how great was the pleasure of the beautiful princess, when she beheld, from a balcony of her palace which overlooked the port, such splendour and magnificence as she had never seen before. The royal vessel appeared at the head of the squadron, decked out with ensigns, flags, and banners, of silk of all colours, and resplendent itself with gold and crystal! As soon as the great king entered, he sent ambassadors to the princess, to beg her to allow him to set foot in her dominions, and to permit him to offer the homage of a heart teeming with infinite respect for her, and beating with love and affection. The princess made this courteous reply: "Tell his majesty that I am heartily glad of his presence, and impatient to see him." The king immediately landed, and proceeded to the palace, and the princess advanced to meet him at the entrance of the state-chamber. The surprise was reciprocal,—the king thought the princess a thousand times more beautiful than her portrait, and she beheld him even more majestic and handsome than she had expected. Their conference abounded with terms of courtesy and politeness, and the king was conducted, by all the grandees of the court, into an apartment where his eyes rested on nothing but precious stones, cloth of gold, and silks of very great value. Here was served up a magnificent banquet, of all that could gratify the palate, or charm the senses. He was attended by four young fairies, wearing robes studded with rubies; they placed on the table before him delicious meats, some of which he had never tasted before, and the dinner service was a thousand times more costly than the finest gold, and the sideboard was loaded with flasks and vases of the same rich material; among them were two immense pearls, that could not be surpassed. The king drank out of a cup formed of a single emerald; the liquor was more delicious than all the ambrosial nectar served at the tables of the gods. But such magnificence and dainties did not engage the king's mind for a moment; he entered into his cabinet, and summoned his ambassadors, who were to inform the princess of the motives of his voyage, and, if she should be agreeable, to appoint the hour for their nuptials. The marriage was solemnized on the morrow, and was followed by several days of rejoicing, and by years of undiminished happiness. After the king had passed several months delightfully in the island, he conveyed the princess to his own kingdom, where they were crowned with great pomp. Several of the courtiers also were united to the ladies of the princess's court, and all were charmed to reside in the society of a king who ruled in the hearts of his people. The great king, as a recompense to the skilful fairy, for the good fortune which she had procured Lim, begged her to rule over the Inaccessible Island. "I accept the boon, mighty king," replied the fairy, " only to celebrate your name, and to hand down to future ages the merits of so wise a monarch and so lovely a princess: your commands shall be mine, and they shall be carefully obeyed." The inhabitants of the fairy's isle, and the subjects of the king, enjoyed unalloyed happiness, such as flows from a just dispensation of the laws, emanating from a throne of brilliant wisdom. Poetry. [In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is printed in Small Capitals, under the title; in Selections it is printed in Italics at the end.] THE BALLAD OF GUNHILD, OR THE PHANTOM SHIP. From the Danish of Ingemann.1 FAIR Gunhild stands on the galley's deck She sees the moon, and the emerald light, Thither, long since, in his dark prowed ship, He promised letters of love to send, And soon to come back again, Fair Gunhild-alas! she could not rest, Her heart beat wild with fright, And she went from her father's and mother's house, And the galley's deck did she straight ascend Or rock'd by sea and wind. Fair Gunhild was toss'd about three days But on the third night of moon and stars And the maiden stood on the galley's deck, The crew were lull'd in their slumber calm, Then from the depths of the ocean, rose The ghost-like sails were rent in twain, (1) This ballad has never been translated before. |