and the noise of musketry all around, which made me judge that the attack was going on in many places at once. When I came to myself 'twas to hear a bugle below calling again to the charge, and once more came the two troops ascending. At their head was a slight-built man, bareheaded, with the sun (that was by this high over the hill) smiting on his brown curls, and the wind blowing them. He carried a naked sword in his hand, and waved his men forward as cheerfully as though 'twere a dance and he leading out his partner.

"Who is that yonder?" asked I, sitting up and pointing. "Bless thy innocent heart!" said my comrade, "dostn't thee know? 'Tis Sir Bevill."

*

"Twould be tedious to tell the whole of this long fight, which, beginning soon after sunrise, ended not till four in the afternoon, or thereabouts: and indeed of the whole my recollection is but of continual advance and repulse on that same slope. And herein may be seen the wisdom of our generals, in attacking while the main body of the enemy's horse was away for had the Earl of Stamford possessed a sufficient force of dragoons to let slip on us at the first discomfiture, there is little doubt he might have ended the battle there and then. As it was, the horse stood out of the fray, theirs upon the summit of the hill, ours (under Colonel John Digby) on the other slope, to protect the town and act as reserve.

The foot, in four parties, was disposed about the hill on all sides; to the west as we know under Sir John Berkeley and Sir Bevill Grenville; to the south under General Hopton and Lord Mohun; to the east under the Colonels Tom Basset and William Godolphin; while the steep side to the north was stormed by Sir Nicholas Slanning and Colonel Godolphin, with their companies. And as we had but eight small pieces of cannon and were in numbers less than one to two, all we had to do was to march up the hill in face of their fire, catch a knock on the head, maybe, grin, and come on again.

But at three o'clock, we, having been for the sixth time beaten back, were panting under cover of a hedge, and Sir John Berkeley, near by, was writing on a drumhead some message to the camp, when there comes a young man on horseback, his face smear'd with dirt and dust, and rides up to him and Sir Bevill. 'Twas (I have since learn'd) to say that the powder

was all spent but a barrel or two; but this only the captains knew at the time.

66

Very well, then," cries Sir Bevill, leaping up gayly. "Come along, boys-we must do it this time." And, the troop forming, once more the trumpets sounded the charge, and up we went. Away along the slope we heard the other trumpeters sounding in answer, and I believe 'twas a sursum corda! to all of us.

Billy Pottery was ranged on my right, in the first rank, and next to me, on the other side, a giant, near seven foot high, who said his name was Anthony Payne and his business to act as body servant to Sir Bevill. And he it was that struck up a mighty curious song in the Cornish tongue, which the rest took up with a will. 'Twas incredible how it put fire into them all: and Sir Bevill toss'd his hat into the air, and after him like schoolboys we pelted, straight for the masses ahead.

For now over the rampart came a company of red musketeers, and two of russet-clad pikemen, charging down on us. A moment, and we were crushed back: another, and the chant rose again. We were grappling, hand to hand, in the midst of their files.

But, good lack! what use is swordsmanship in a charge like this? The first redcoat that encounter'd me I had spitted through the lung, and, carried on by the rush, he twirled me round like a windmill. In an instant I was pass'd; the giant stepping before me and clearing a space about him, using his pike as if 'twere a flail. With a wrench I tugg'd my sword out and followed. I saw Sir Bevill, a little to the left, beaten to his knee, and carried toward me. Stretching out a hand I pull'd him on his feet again, catching, as I did so, a crack on the skull that would have ended me, had not Billy Pottery put up his pike and broke the force of it. Next, I remember gripping another redcoat by the beard and thrusting at him with shorten'd blade. Then the giant ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought to rally round it; and with that I seem'd caught off my feet and swept forward; - and we were on the crest.

Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man's breath off a pane. And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across to where, on the north side, a white standard embroider'd with gold griffins was mounting.

""Tis dear Nick Slanning!" he cried; "God be prais'dthe day is ours for certain!"

SWEET DAY, SO COOL.

BY GEORGE HERBERT.

[GEORGE HERBERT, English poet, brother of Lord Herbert of Cherbury, was born at Montgomery Castle, Wales, April 3, 1593. He was elected a Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, became public orator of the university, and, after spending several years at court in the hope of preferment, studied divinity and entered the church. About 1630 he was presented by Charles I. to the vicarage of Bemerton, and here he wrote "The Temple, or Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations" (1633), of which, in 1670, more than twenty thousand copies had been sold. "A Priest to the Temple, or the Country Parson " (1652) Herbert was a great favorite with James I., Bacon, and Bishop Andrewes, and numbered among his intimate friends Dr. Donne and Nicholas Ferrar. He died at Bemerton, 1633.]

is his chief prose work.

SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright,

The bridal of the earth and sky,

The dew shall weep thy fall to-night;
For thou must die.

Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,

Thy root is ever in its grave,

And thou must die.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,

My music shows ye have your closes,

And all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,

Like seasoned timber, never gives;

But though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives.

NOTABLE MEN AND SAYINGS OF ENGLAND.

BY THOMAS FULLER.

(From "The Worthies of England.”)

[THOMAS FULLER, English divine and historian, was born at Aldwinckle, Northamptonshire, in 1608, and was educated at Cambridge. He became widely known as a preacher in the Savoy Church, London, and on the outbreak of the

Civil War joined the king at Oxford and acted as chaplain to Sir Ralph Hopton's men. After the Restoration he was reinstated in the preferments of which he had been deprived by the parliamentarians, and received the appointment of chaplain extraordinary to Charles II. His "Worthies of England" has both a literary and a historical value. Other writings are: "The History of the Holy War," "The Holy State and the Profane State,' "A Pisgah-sight of Palestine," and "Church History of Britain." He died at London in 1661.]

FIRST we will dispatch that sole proverb of this county, Berkshire, viz. :

"The Vicar of Bray will be Vicar of Bray still."

Bray, a village well known in this county, so called from the Bibroces, a kind of ancient Britons inhabiting thereabouts. The vivacious vicar hereof living under King Henry the Eighth, King Edward the Sixth, Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth, was first a Papist, then a Protestant, then a Papist, then a Protestant again. He had seen some martyrs burnt (two miles off) at Windsor, and found this fire too hot for his tender temper. This vicar being taxed by one for being a turncoat and an inconstant changeling, "Not so," said he, "for I always kept my principle, which is this, to live and die the vicar of Bray." Such many nowadays, who though they cannot turn the wind will turn their mills, and set them so, that wheresoever it bloweth their grist shall certainly be grinded.

Proceed we now to the proverbs general of England:

England were but a fling,

Save for the crooked stick and the gray-goose wing.

"But a fling," that is, a slight, light thing, not to be valued, but rather to be cast away, as being but half an island. It is of no great extent. Philip the Second, king of Spain, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth called our English ambassadors unto him (whilst as yet there was peace betwixt the two crowns); and, taking a small map of the world, laid his little finger upon England (wonder not if he desired to finger so good a country); and then demanded of our English ambassador, "where England was?" Indeed, it is in greatness inconsiderable to the Spanish dominions.

"But for the crooked stick," etc. That is, use of archery. Never were the arrows of the Parthians more formidable to the Romans than ours to the French horsemen. Yea, remarkable is Divine Providence to England, that since arrows are

grown out of use, though the weapons of war be altered, the Englishman's hand is still in use as much as ever before; for no country affords better materials of iron, saltpeter, and lead; or better workmen to make them into guns, powder, and bullets; or better marksmen to make use of them being so made : so that England is now as good with a straight iron, as ever it was with a crooked stick.

"England is the paradise of women, hell of horses, purgatory of servants.'

For the first, billa vera; women, whether maids, wives, or widows, finding here the fairest respect and kindest usage. Our common law is a more courteous carver for them than the civil law beyond the seas, allowing widows the thirds of their husbands' estates, with other privileges. The highest seats are granted them at all feasts; and the wall (in crowding, most danger to the weakest; in walking, most dignity to the worthiest), resigned to them. The indentures of maidservants are canceled by their marriage, though the term be not expired; which to young men in the same condition is denied. In a word, betwixt law and (law's corival) custom, they freely enjoy many favors; and we men, so far from envying them, wish them all happiness therewith.

For the next, "England's being a hell for horses"; Ignoramus; as not sufficiently satisfied in the evidence alleged. Indeed, the Spaniard, who keeps his jennets rather for show than use, makes wantons of them. However, if England be faulty herein in their overviolent riding, racing, hunting, it is high time the fault were amended; the rather, because "the good man regardeth the life of his beast.

For the last, "Purgatory for servants"; we are so far from finding the bill, we cast it forth as full of falsehood. We have but two sorts, apprentices and covenant servants. The parents of the former give large sums of money to have their children bound for seven years, to learn some art or mystery; which argueth their good usage as to the generality in our nation: otherwise it were madness for men to give so much money to buy their children's misery. As for our covenant servants, they make their own covenants; and if they be bad, they may thank themselves. Sure I am, their masters, if breaking them, and abusing their servants with too little meat or sleep, too much work of correction (which is true also of apprentices) are liable by law to make them reparation.