English captains who attacked the unwieldy leviathans: then came Fenton, Southwell, Burton, Cross, Raynor, and then the Lord Admiral, with Lord Thomas Howard and Lord Sheffield. The Spaniards only thought of forming and keeping close together, and were driven by the English past Dunkirk, and far away from the Prince of Parma, who in watching their defeat from the coast, must, as Drake expressed it, have chafed like a bear robbed of her whelps. This was indeed the last and the decisive battle between the two fleets. It is, perhaps, best described in the very words of the contemporary writer:

"Upon the 29th of July in the morning, the Spanish fleet, after the above-mentioned tumult, having arranged themselves again into order, were, most bravely and furiously, encountered by the English; where they once again got the wind of the Spaniards, who suffered themselves to be deprived of the commodity of the place in Calais road, and of the advantage of the wind near unto Dunkirk, rather than they would change their array or separate their forces now conjoined and united together, standing only upon their defence.

"And howbeit there were many excellent and warlike ships in the English fleet, yet scarce were there twenty-two or twenty-three among them all which matched ninety of the Spanish ships in the bigness, or could conveniently assault them. Wherefore the English ships, using their skill in nimble steerage, whereby they could turn and wield themselves with the wind which way they listed, came often very near upon the Spaniards, and charged them so sore that now and then they were but a pike's length asunder: and so continually giving them one broadside after another, they discharged all their shot, both great and small, upon them, spending one whole day from morning till night in that violent kind of conflict, until powder and bullets failed them. In regard of which want they

thought it convenient not to pursue the Spaniards any longer, because they had many great advantages of the English-namely, for the extraordinary size of their ships, and also for that they were so nearly conjoined, and kept together in so good array, that they could by no means be fought withal one to one. The English thought, therefore, that they had right well acquitted themselves, in chasing the Spaniards first from Calais, and then from Dunkirk, and by that means to have hindered them from joining with the Duke of Parma's forces, and getting the wind of them, to have driven them from their own coasts.

"The Spaniards that day sustained great loss and damage, having many of their ships shot through and through, and they discharged likewise great store of ordnance against the English; who, indeed, sustained some hindrance, but not to be compared to the Spaniards' loss: for they did not lose either one ship or person of importance, although Sir Francis Drake's ship was pierced with shot about forty times."

It reflects little credit on the English government that the English fleet was so deficiently supplied with ammunition, as to be unable to complete the destruction of the invaders. But enough was done to ensure it. Many of the largest Spanish ships were sunk or captured in the action of this day. And at length the Spanish admiral, despairing of success, fled northward, with a southerly wind, in the hope of rounding Scotland, and so returning to Spain without a further encounter with the English fleet. Lord Effingham left a squadron to continue the blockade of the Prince of Parma's armament; but that wise general soon withdrew his troops to more promising fields of action. Meanwhile the Lord Admiral himself and Drake chased the "vincible" Armada, as it was now termed, for some distance northward; and then, when it seemed to bend away from the Scotch coast towards Norway, it was thought best, in the words

of Drake, "to leave them to those boisterous and uncouth northern seas."

The sufferings and losses which the unhappy Spaniards sustained in their flight round Scotland and Ireland are well known. Of their whole Armada, only fifty-three shattered vessels brought back their beaten and wasted crews to the Spanish coast, which they had quitted in such pageantry and pride.-Creasy, "The Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World."





SHE strikes, and she reels, and her high towering mast,
Like the forest oak, bends in the hurricane blast;
And the billows, whose awful tops seem in the clouds,
Dash high o'er the wretches that fly to her shrouds.
Again she hath struck, and the turbulent air

Is filled with high horror and shrieks of despair;
Few moments must free her from breakers and spray,
Or entomb them in ocean for ever and aye.

S. IV.


Forsaken her helm, that, the dark waters o'er,
Had oft steered her safe to the sheltering shore;
And her beautiful pennant, that streamed ever bright,
Like the sunbeam by day and a meteor by night,

Now twines round her topmast, (how changed since the morn!)

Or, piecemeal, the sport of the tempest is torn.
No peal of alarm was discharged from her deck;
But the voice of despair from the perishing wreck
Found an echo in hearts that, in every wild form,
Have encountered the demon that yells in the storm;
And that spirit which makes them in danger more brave,
Only rose with the scene; on the tempest-tost wave
They launched their light bark, and, in gallant array,
Dashed from shore with a true hearty British huzza.
Far, far as the eye of the gazer could roam

There was nothing, but breakers and billows of foam:
One moment she seemed in the boiling surge lost,
The next, we beheld her still struggling, but tost
At the merciless power of the deep booming sea;

But still forward she kept on her perilous track-
Oh, sailor-boy! sailor-boy! many for thee

Are the sighs and the tears, that will welcome thee back.

Now, high o'er the billows majestic she rides,

With her twelve noble rowers all lashed to her sides;
Relax not one effort-one moment may save

Or entomb them for ever beneath the dark wave;
For, hark! the last cry of despair is ascending,
As shivering they cling to the topmast; and rending
The heavens with their outcry-one effort, one more,
And 'tis gained,—like a thunder-cloud, burst upon shore
The gazer's applause, as the life-boat steered round them.
But who shall describe the poor rescued, or tell
With what feelings these greater than conquerors found

As half-naked, half-dead, from the rigging they fell;
Or lifelessly sunk on their foreheads, as though
The last torment was past-drained the last cup of woe?
And now, with the shipwrecked and destitute crew,

The billows are foaming around them, and loud, Like the roar of artillery, the tempest-charged cloud Breaks o'er them in thunder; still o'er the dark sea

They push their light bark in its perilous track— Oh, sailor-boy! sailor-boy! many for thee

Are the sighs and the tears, that will welcome thee back.

The sea-gull flew wildly and mournfully round,
As if on the deep shoreless ocean she'd found
Some exiles, condemned o'er the wild world to roam;
Then, light as the billow, and white as the foam,
Winged her way on the breeze to her tempest-rocked

On the tiptoe of hope and of fear we beheld,

As their bark through the billows the rowers impelled, But, at length, in smooth water we saw her safe moored; And what was the boon for the danger endured? Avaunt, selfish hearts! what at first had inspired, Brought its own bright reward all the boon they desired: 'Twas enough to have saved, from the jaws of the grave, Hearts that beat like their own, true, undaunted, and brave.-Anon.


This is

THE finest and best bread is made from wheat. owing to the quantity of gluten which it contains; the average quantity in wheat-flour amounting to about onefifth of the whole weight of the meal. Gluten, which appears to possess many of the properties of animal matter, performs an important part in the chemical changes which take place in the transition made from flour into bread. In all ages, therefore, wheat-bread has been preferred, and with reason, to bread made from other grain, as being more nutritive, wholesome, and of easier digestion. Oats make a pleasanter bread than

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