Eveline returns to the castle of her father; the care of the country against Welsh invasion is assigned to Damian de Lacy, who had already by acts of bravery won the esteem of Eveline. The days and months of indolent castle life wear slowly away, with the occasional visit of a strolling harper, or a hawking expedition near the castle, which Scott, with his love for out-door amusements, enters into with apparent relish. On one of these excursions Eveline is made prisoner by a party of Welsh soldiers, and she is led away blindfolded through the recesses of the hills. She is rescued by Damian de Lacy, who however is seriously wounded, and taken against the advice of friends to the castle. Unfounded rumors poison the minds of the people, the castle is attacked by the king’s forces, led on by a traitor of Hugo’s family. Damian is taken prisoner and condemned to death. More than three years had passed away, and now Hugo returns in poverty, and completely broken in spirit. Damian is released, and Hugo waives his claim to the hand of Eveline, and Damian wins one of the noblest women that Scott has made immortal in the world. So much for the brief outline of the story, which reveals the manner of life on the Welsh borders during the time of the Third Crusade. The two novels which follow, “The Talisman” and “Ivanhoe,” portray even in more vivid colors the sufferings of the crusaders in Palestine, and the every day life of Merrie England. THE IVY. By HENRY BURTON. Pushing the clods of earth aside, Leaving the dark where foul things hide, Spreading its leaves to the summer sun, Bondage ended, freedom won; So, my soul, like the ivy be, Rise, for the sunshine calls for thee! Climbing up as the seasons go, Looking down upon things below, Twining itself in the branches high, As if the frail thing owned the sky; So, my soul, like the ivy be, Heaven, not earth, is the place for thee. Wrapping itself round the giant oak, Hiding itself from the tempest’s stroke; Strong and brave is the fragile thing, For it knows one secret, how to cling: So, my soul, there’s strength for thee, Hear the Mighty One, “Lean on me!” Green are its leaves when the world is white, For the ivy sings through the frosty night; Keeping the hearts of oak awake, Till the flowers shall bloom and the spring shall break; So, my soul, through the winter’s rain, Sing the sunshine back again. Opening its green and fluttering breast, Giving the timid birds a nest; Coming out from the winter wild, To make a wreath for the Holy Child; So let my life like the ivy be, A help to man and a wreath for Thee! —_Good Words._ C. L. S. C. COMMENCEMENT.[A] CLASS OF 1883.