Blazed broad and fierce the brandish'd torch of God; On the long mirror of the rosy wave: While its blest beams a sun-like heat supply, And brake their chariot-wheels, and marr'd their coursers' flight. "Fly, Misraim, fly !"-The ravenous floods they see, "Fly, Misraim, fly !"-From Edom's coral strand Oh! welcome came the morn, when Israel stcod The stubborn slave, by hope's new beams subdued, Till, kindling into warmer zeal, around The virgin timbrel waked its silver sound⚫ The dark transparence of her lucid eye, Pour'd on the winds of heaven her wild sweet harmony, The Old Mariners of England. CHARLES KINGSLEY. He says, [THE Editor of "Half-Hours" has, in his "Passages of a Working Life," Indicated the impressions produced upon him in visiting the scenes made famous by the naval triumphs of the reign of Elizabeth. "As we stand upon the Hoe at Plymouth, we think more of the high-born Howards, and the Drakes, and Frobishers, who had fought their way upwards from before the mast,—all with the heartiest good-will going forth with their little pinnaces to fight the great Armada coming up the Channel-than of the vast arsenals of modern times, from which ships are turned out that would sink the largest galleon by a few broadsides. The hearty patriotism that was then animating the gentlemen and ycomen of England, has been our country's safety, even to the present hour. A few years ago, a master of fiction gave me a new interest in the heroes of Plymouth, and the land of Raleigh and Cavendish, for Charles Kingsley had written his 'Westward Ho !"" The Rev. Charles Kingsley was born in 1819, at Holme Vicarage, Devonshire. At Cambridge, as a scholar of Magdalen College, he obtained distinction, and having decided to enter the Church, he became first curate, and then rector of Eversley a moorland parish in Hampshire. Here he preached his "Village Sermons," published in 1844. Deeply impressed with the consequences of many social evils that have since been partially removed, he wrote his celebrated story of "Alton Locke, Tailor and Poet." It is not too much to say that this remarkable book had no inconsiderable influence in awakening a better spirit in the minds of the educated and influential classes than that which had mostly prevailed previously. In all his works, whether in theology or fiction, distinguished as they are by liberality of sentiment, there is a constant endeavour to point to Christianity as the true source of intellectual improvement and social advancement. Mr. Kingsley was one of the Chaplains in Ordinary to the Queen, and was Professor of Modern History in the University of Cambridge. Charles Kingsley died 1875.] One bright summer's afternoon, in the year of grace 1575, a tall and fair boy came lingering along Bideford quay, in his scholar's gown, with satchel and slate in hand, watching wistfully the shipping and the sailors, till, just after he had passed the bottom of the High Street, he came opposite to one of the many taverns which looked out upon the river. In the open bay-window sat merchants and gentlemen, discoursing over their afternoon's draught of sack; and outside the door was gathered a group of sailors, listening earnestly to some one who stood in the midst. The boy, all alive for any sea-news, must needs go up to them, and take his place among the sailor-lads who were peeping and whispering under the elbows of the men; and so came in for the following speech, delivered in a loud bold voice, with a strong Devonshire accent, and a fair sprinkling of oaths: "If you don't believe me, go and see, or stay here and grow all over blue mould. I tell you, as I am a gentleman, I saw it with these eyes, and so did Salvation Yeo there, through a window in the lower room; and we measured the heap, as I am a Christian man, seventy foot long, ten foot broad, and twelve high, of silver bars, and each bar between a thirty and forty pound weight. And says Captain Drake, 'There, my lads of Devon, I've brought you to the mouth of the world's treasure-house, and it's your own fault now if you don't sweep it out as empty as a stock-fish." 66 'Why didn't you bring some of them home, then, Mr Oxenham ?" "Why weren't you there to help to carry them? We would have brought 'em away safe enough, and young Drake and I had broke the door abroad already, but Captain Drake goes off in a dead faint; and when we came to look, he had a wound in his leg you might have laid three fingers in, and his boots were full of blood, and had been for an hour or more; but the heart of him was that, that he never knew it till he dropped, and then his brother and I got him away to the boats, he kicking and struggling, and bidding us let him go on with the fight, though every step he took in the sand was in a pool of blood; and so we got off. And, tell me, ye sons of shotten herrings, wasn't it worth more to save him than the dirty silver for silver we can get again, brave boys; there's more fish in the sea than ever came out of it, and more silver in Nombre de Dios than would pave all the streets in the west country: but of such captains as Franky Drake Heaven never makes but one at a time; and if we lose him, goodbye to England's luck, say I, and who don't agree let him choose his weapons, and I'm his man.” He who delivered this harangue was a tall and sturdy person. age, with a florid black-bearded face, and bold restless dark eyes, who leaned, with crossed legs and arms akimbo, against the wall of the house; and seemed in the eyes of the schoolboy a very magnifico, some prince or duke at least. He was dressed (contrary to all sumptuary laws of the time) in a suit of crimson velvet, a little the worse, perhaps, for wear; by his side were a long Spanish rapier and a brace of daggers, gaudy enough about the hilts; his fingers sparkled with rings; he had two or three gold chains about his neck, and large earrings in his ears, behind one of which a red rose was stuck jauntingly enough among the glossy black curls; on his head was a broad velvet Spanish hat, in which, instead of a feather, was fastened with a great gold clasp a whole Quezal bird, whose gorgeous plumage of fretted golden green shone like one entire precious stone. As he finished his speech, he took off the said hat, and looking at the bird in it "Look ye, my lads, did you ever see such a fowl as that be fore? That's the bird which the old Indian kings of Mexico let no one wear but their own selves; and therefore I wear it,-I, John Oxenham, of South Tawton, for a sign to all brave lads of Devon, that as the Spaniards are the masters of the Indians, we're the masters of the Spaniards;" and he replaced his hat. A murmur of applause followed; but one hinted, that he "doubted the Spaniards were too many for them." "Too many! How many men did we take Nombre de Dios with? Seventy-three were we, and no more when we sailed out of Plymouth Sound; and before we saw the Spanish main, half were 'gastados,' used up, as the Dons say, with the scurvy, and in Port Pheasant, Captain Rouse of Cowes fell in with us, and that gave us some thirty hands more; and with that handful, my lads, only fifty-three in all, we picked the lock of the New World. And whom did we lose but our trumpeter, who stood braying like an ass in the middle of the square, instead of taking care of his neck like a Christian? I tell you, those Spaniards are rank cowards, as all bullies are. They pray to a woman, the idolatrous rascals! and no wonder they fight like women." "You're right, captain," sang out a tall, gaunt fellow who stood close to him; 6.6 one west countrymen can fight two easterlings, and an easterling can beat three Dons any day. Eh! my lads of Devon? "For, O! it's the herrings and the good brown beef, And the cider and the cream so white; O! they are the making of the jolly Devon lads, For to play, and eke to fight.'' "Come," said Oxenham, "come along. Who lists who lists who'll make his fortune? "Oh, who will join jolly mariners all? To fill his pockets with the good red goold, "Who'll list," cried the gaunt man again ; now's your time! We've got forty men to Plymouth now, ready to sail the minute |