were totally frustrated, hardly appeared to add to our security or strength, for while Nelson was living to watch the combined squadrons of the enemy, we felt ourselves as secure as now, when they were no longer in existence.

He cannot be said to have fallen prematurely whose work was done, nor ought he to be lamented who died so full of honors, and at the height of human fame. The most triumphant death is that of the martyr; the most awful that of the martyred patriot; the most splendid that of the hero in the hour of victory; and if the chariot and the horses of fire had been vouchsafed for Nelson's translation, he could scarcely have departed in a brighter blaze of glory. He has left us, not indeed his mantle of inspiration, but a name and an example which are at this hour inspiring hundreds of the youth of England - a name which is our pride, and an example which will continue to be our shield and our strength. Thus it is that the spirits of the great and the wise continue to live and to act after them.

HOME THOUGHTS FROM THE SEA.

Robert Browning.

NOBLY, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away;
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay ;
Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;
In the dimmest North-east distance dawned Gibraltar grand

and gray;

"Here and here did England help me: how can I help Eng

Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray,

COLUMBUS.

Arthur Hugh Clough.

How in God's name did Columbus get over
Is a pure wonder to me, I protest,

Cabot, and Raleigh too, that well-read rover,
Frobisher, Dampier, Drake, and the rest.
Bad enough all the same,
For them that after came,
But, in great Heaven's name,
How he should ever think

That on the other brink

Of this wild waste terra firma should be,
Is a pure wonder, I must say,

to me.

How a man ever should hope to get thither,
E'en if he knew that there was another side;
But to suppose he should come any whither,
Sailing straight on into chaos untried,
In spite of the motion
Across the whole ocean,

To stick to the notion

That in some nook or bend

Of a sea without end

He should find North and South America,
Was a pure madness, indeed I must say, to me.

What if wise men had, as far back as Ptolemy, Judged that the earth like an orange was round,

None of them ever said, Come along, follow me,

Sail to the West, and the East will be found.
Many a day before

Ever they'd come ashore,

From the San Salvador,'

Sadder and wiser men

They'd have turned back again;

And that he did not, but did cross the sea,
Is a pure wonder, I must say, to me.

HELVELLYN.

Sir Walter Scott.

I CLIMB'D the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn,1
Lakes and mountains beneath me gleam'd misty and wide;
All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling,

And starting around me the echoes replied.

On the right, Striden-edge round the Redtarn was bending, And Catchedicam its left verge was defending.

One huge nameless rock in the front was ascending,

When I mark'd the sad spot where the wanderer had died.

Dark green was that spot 'mid the brown mountain-heather, Where the Pilgrim of Nature lay stretch'd in decay,

Like the corpse of an outcast abandoned to weather,

Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay.

1 In the spring of 1805, a young gentleman of talents, and of a most amiable disposition, perished by losing his way on the mountain Helvellyn. His remains were not discovered till three months afterwards, when they were found guarded by a faithful terrier, his constant attendant during frequent solitary

Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended,
For, faithful in death, his mute favorite attended,
The much-loved remains of her master defended,

And chased the hill-fox and the raven away.

How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start?

How many long days and long weeks didst thou number,
Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart?
And oh! was it meet, that- no requiem read o'er him
No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him,
And thou, little guardian, alone stretch'd before him
Unhonor'd the Pilgrim from life should depart?

When a Prince to the fate of the Peasant has yielded,
The tapestry waves dark round the dim-lighted hall;
With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded,

And pages stand mute by the canopied pall:

Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming;

In the proudly-arch'd chapel the banners are beaming,
Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming,
Lamenting a Chief of the people should fall.

But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature,

To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb, When, wilder'd, he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam.

And more stately thy couch by this desert lake lying,

Thy obsequies sung by the gray plover flying,
With one faithful friend but to witness thy dying,

In the arms of Helvellyn and Catchedicam.

JAFFÀR.

Leigh Hunt.

INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF SHELLEY.

Shelley, take this to thy dear memory : —

To praise the generous, is to think of thee.

JAFFAR, the Barmecide, the good Vizier,
The poor man's hope, the friend without a peer,
Jaffàr was dead, slain by a doom unjust;
And guilty Hàroun, sullen with mistrust
Of what the good and e'en the bad might say,
Ordain'd that no man living from that day
Should dare to speak his name on pain of death.
All Araby and Persia held their breath.

All but the brave Mondeer.- He, proud to show
How far for love a grateful soul could go,
And facing death for very scorn and grief
(For his great heart wanted a great relief,)
Stood forth in Bagdad, daily, in the square
Where once had stood a happy house; and there
Harangued the tremblers at the scymitar
On all they owed to the divine Jaffàr.

“Bring me this man," the caliph cried. The man Was brought was gaz'd upon. The mutes began To bind his arms. "Welcome, brave cords!" cried he; "From bonds far worse Jaffàr deliver'd me;

From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears; Made a man's eyes friends with delicious tears;

Restor❜d me - lov'd me- put me on a par