my dear friend, arrayed in deepest mourning. She sat down beside my bed, and for many minutes could do nothing but cry, softly yet bitterly.

"Oh, this is wrong, Ben," she said at last, raising her sweet, tearful face, and looking tenderly at me; "did I not tell you I dedicated him to God, and God has taken him. My dear, dear son, my precious Dick! There never was such a boy to his mother, Ben; our hearts were knit together; bound up in the bundle of life' together, and not separated even now, though his is already eternal life, mine as yet but mortal. Tell me about him, Ben. Nothing is so grateful to a mother's ears as the praises of the darling she has lost, when she knows them to be true," she added, with a tone of almost happy pride. I did as she requested; I was never weary of thinking and talking about him who had so generously befriended me. I came to this good old town a stranger and a raw stripling, lonely and self-confident and self-opinionated, as it is the manner of youth to be, till real life works a change and knocks the conceit out of us. I recalled the merry fun he indulged in, the sweet sunny gaiety of his nature, that had of late blended with such rare and spiritual gifts.

"Harry is like his brother in his fun and playful innocent nonsense," said Mrs. Tonkin; "if he only may become like him in higher, better attributes!"

"Dear Mrs. Tonkin," said Lucy's sweet voice then, "do you not believe that the playful graces God bestowed on your dear son were the very means of his great usefulness to his fellows? His men could not resist his bright, gay, cheery manner, and were delighted to find religion blended with what so charmed them."

"I think you must be right," said Mrs. Tonkin. Then she added, "Dear Lucy, you have not told me how you, a Royalist, came to shelter this Roundhead young friend of mine. Were not our authorities afraid to trust so fascinating a hostess of opposite views with so impressionable a young officer ?" She sighed even while she smiled at saying all this.

I was glad of this permission, and only wished I could have confided the matter to Dick also.

Mrs. Tonkin gave us, when I had ended, just the sympathy she could never refuse. "But you will have much to bear; I foresee that, dear ones," she said; "may God give you such grace that every trial may send you closer to Him, and nearer in heart to each other."

We were all of us silent a little, before she spoke again, then it was of her son.

"After the Sunday battle in December two years ago, you remember Ben, our thanksgiving day, and that the town adopted then for its motto Turris fortissima est nomen Jehova,' and had it engraven on the town seal. Do you also remember Dick's pleasure at that, and how he declared it should be his motto as well as his town's?

I did, perfectly well. The talk about it had taken

place at our Christmas dinner, when Rhoda's pudding had so agreeably surprised us.

"What better words could we have on his tombstone, think you, Ben?"

"None," I answered promptly; "and every soldier and every townsman who reads them will understand."

"Turris fortissima est nomen Jehova," I read the graven words at the head of Dick's grave in St. Andrew's churchyard many weeks after, when I tottered out for the first time from Looe-street, supported by Harry Tonkin and Lucy. I should do scant justice to Bridget were I not to acknowledge her kindness to me in this long and wearisome sickness. Though she must surely have looked upon me as a most unwelcome intruder and heavy addition to her work, she treated me with a courtesy I had never expected from her; and demurely insisted, as it were, that "bygones were bygones," and that she never had any quarrel against an openly-received and acknowledged guest.

But whether under the wooden mask of her countenance, which she had the power of making most provokingly impenetrable, she indulged in any bitterness against me, I was quite unable to discover, and, in my weakness, preferred to leave it amongst things unknown. (To be continued.)

COLLISIONS WITH THE DUTCH.

NE of our finest displays of naval courage illuminated the stirring record of the great Dutch war in the days of the Commonwealth. The issue at stake was a weighty one-the commercial supremacy of the world; and had that long struggle gone against England, she would never have become a great Power, nor belted the globe with a golden

ring of free and prosperous states.

The Navigation Act, passed in 1652, prohibited foreign nations from importing into England, in their own ships, commodities not grown or manufactured in their own countries. Now, as the Dutch grew or produced but little, while they monopolised the carrying trade of the world, this Act virtually excluded them from English ports.

Viewing its effects with alarm, and jealous of the rising navy of England, Holland instructed her Ambassador to request the repeal of the obnoxious Act, at the same time intimating that she was assembling a formidable fleet to protect her trade. This scarcely veiled menace aroused the indignation of Parliament; and an order was immediately issued to all our sea-captains requiring them to insist that due honour should be paid to the English flag in the narrow seas. The order was promptly acted upon. Commander Young, falling in with a Dutch fleet on its return from Genoa, bade the Admiral lower his ensign; and when he refused compliance, saluted him with a broadside.

The States-General of Holland, irate at this act of contumely, got together with all possible speed a powerful fleet of forty-two large ships, and placed it under the command of Marten Harperts Tromp, a valorous seaman of great skill and courage. He was lying off the Flemish coast, between Dunkerque and Newport, when a tremendous storm arose, and compelled him to run across to Dover. As RearAdmiral Nehemiah Browne was stationed in the Downs with eight men-of-war, Tromp sent to him a couple of frigates to explain the cause which had driven him into English waters, and to promise that when the storm abated he would sail for the North Sea. Browne accepted the explanation, but, as in duty bound, sent information of all that had passed to his Admiral, the great Robert Blake, then anchored with the main body of the English fleet in Rye Bay.

On the following morning Blake's ships, having sailed all night under a press of canvas, appeared in Dover Straits in time to see Tromp standing away to the eastward. But shortly afterwards a ship was seen to arrive in the Dutch fleet and communicate

with its Admiral. It brought him intelligence of Commodore Young's peremptory action; and Tromp at once tacked and beat back towards Dover. As he did not promptly lower his flag, Blake's ship, the James, fired a gun to exact the usual courtesy ;-another, and yet another. The third shot passed right through the Brederode, which bore Tromp's pennant, and smashed a sailor's arm. First blood was drawn; and war could no longer be deferred by diplomatists or statesmen.

Tromp's force consisted of forty-two ships. Blake had but ten; his ships, however, were larger, carried more guns, and more men. On the other hand, the Dutch crews consisted in the main of picked and experienced seamen; the English, to a large extent, of landsmen, new and untried. But in those days our English sea-kings had no fancy for numerical calculations. When the two fleets drew together, Blake pushed forward to speak with the Dutch Admiral, whereupon Tromp poured in a crashing broadside, which damaged the stern of the James, and shattered the cabin windows. Blake and his officers were conversing in his cabin when the shot rattled about their ears. Lifting his eyes from the maps before him, he exclaimed: "Well, 'tis not very civil in Van Tromp to break my windows." A second broadside thundered as he spoke. Then he twisted his black whiskers round his fingers, as he was wont to do in his wrath, and ordered the James to return the enemy's fire.

Ship after ship began to join in the dreadful mêlée. No manoeuvring was attempted; indeed, the science of naval tactics had not been invented; it was hard hand-to-hand fighting, and blow returned for blow. We may judge of the severity of the struggle from the fact that the James, out of a crew of 250 men, lost seventy men and officers killed, and had thirty-five desperately wounded. Through the bright, warm May day the battle lasted. Tromp lost a couple of ships, one sunk and the other captured, but his preponderance of force might have restored the fight, had not Browne come up towards evening with his squadron. Then the battle ceased to rage, and next day, the 30th, towards noon, Tromp drew off towards his own shores: Blake resumed his station in the Channel.

A strong feeling of indignation was aroused in England by this collision; and the feeling was nourished by the war party in Parliament. The Dutch, on the other hand, regretted the "untoward event," and became sincerely anxious to conclude a satisfactory treaty. The English demands, however, rose at every step in the negotiations, until they became such as no independent nation could concede. Both Governments, therefore, hurried on their military preparations. England added 40 new ships to her navy, raised her seamen's wages, made a levy in every port, and, in one month after the encounter in the Downs, was able to place Blake at the head of a

fleet of 105 ships, carrying 3,961 guns. Holland displayed a not inferior energy; she laid down the keels of 60 great men-of-war, and by high rates of pay tempted into her service the best seamen of every nation. Before long an armada of 123 vessels, well manned and equipped, put to sea under the command of Marten Harperts Tromp.

On England's side the first great operation of the war was directed against the herring-fishery of the North Seas, which at that time was almost entirely in the hands of the Dutch fishermen, and constituted a principal source of the wealth of Holland. Ascer

guns of Deal. Thereafter he rode to and fro in the Channel with the pomp of a victor, threatening with fire and sword the coast of Kent. The strong wind that blew off shore proved, however, the Kentish men's salvation; and at length, weary with a cruise which brought neither profit nor honour, he sailed in search of the English Admiral. He found him at last, on the 6th of August, off the Shetland Isles; and the two fleets had made ready for desperate battle, when suddenly a tremendous storm swept down upon them, dispersing the hostile war-ships, and scattering them far and wide like straws by

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taining that the spring flotilla, of upwards of six hundred "busses," was on its homeward voyage, Blake left Sir George Ayscue to watch Tromp's movements, and with sixty ships sailed northward to intercept it. Off Black Ness his van came up with the herring-fleet, sunk three and captured nine of the convoy men-of-war, and swept into his net the whole of the six hundred "busses." Remembering, however, that they were the sole means of support of scores of innocent, hapless families, he contented himself with levying a royalty of every tenth fish, and then dismissed the fishermen with a stern warning to trespass no more in British waters.

Tromp, meanwhile, with his 112 sail and 10 fire-ships, had driven Sir George Ayscue's little squadron of 15 ships to take shelter under the

a giant's hand. "The fiercest of mortal passions were stilled in a moment before the awful demonstration. All thoughts of conflict were abandoned, and nothing now was heard save the roar of the waves, the wind shrieking among the loose sails and cordage, and the shouts of the captains directing their men. Fitful gleams of light, now and then caught through the storm and darkness, told the commanders that another power had undertaken to disperse and separate their fleets. Many of the ships were soon unmanageable. Rudders were wrested violently off, sails were torn and twisted into

knots, and the waves went through and through them at every swell, throwing their white and seething foam into the very sky."

Yet, awful as was the convulsion of nature, the Dutch biographer of Cornelis Tromp would seem to indulge in exaggeration, when he tells us that "the fleet, being as it were buried by the sea in the most horrible abysses, rose out of them only to be tossed up to the clouds; here the masts were beaten down into the sea, there the deck was overflowed with the prevailing waves; the tempest was so much mistress of the ships, they could be governed no longer, and on every side appeared all the dreadful forerunners of a dismal wreck."

When dawn broke on the heaving sea, the imperial fleets which a few hours before had ridden the waters majestically, prepared to contend for the power and pride of two great nations, could no more be seen; a few helpless, shattered ships drifted aimlessly with wind and current; others had put into the nearest ports. The Dutch had suffered greatly. More than one of their frigates had struck on the rocks, and all their crews had perished; three of the fireships had gone down; most of the men-ofwar were seriously injured. Some had sought refuge in the harbours of the Shetland Archipelago; others had run towards the Norwegian coast, and only two-and-forty sail followed their sorrowful Admiral into Scheveling. Blake had escaped with little loss, having put into the friendly ports of his own country, whence he quickly sallied forth to harry the shores of Holland with continual invasions.

The Dutch were sorely perplexed by this disaster, and, with the characteristic ingratitude of nations, charged it upon Tromp, accusing him of incapacity, and even of treason. He had fought with Blake, they said, for some private speculation of his own; whereas the elements had fought against the Dutch fleet, and, as a matter of course, had had the best of it. He was summoned before the States-General, and a slow and tedious inquiry into his conduct instituted. It was the beginning of winter before he was re-appointed commander-in-chief of the fleet. Tromp bore the storm with the composure of a lofty mind, though at times he could not suppress a sense of the harshness of public opinion. To fight the enemy, and risk my life," he said, causes no trouble to my mind; but that, having done all in my power to serve my country, I should come home to be exposed to suspicions, and jealousies, and ill-will -that, having done all that a soldier and a sailor can do, with the brains that God has given me, I should be required to give an account of my deedsthis takes away all my pleasure and zeal in the service."

Meanwhile, another fleet was got together under Cornelis de With, who ran out of port to join a division under De Ruyter. The winds and the waves, however, would show no mercy to either admiral. A terrible storm drove the Dutch armada on the coast, and so shattered it, that eleven ships had to be sent home. It seemed as if in the contention between the two countries, Providence was not disposed to favour Holland.

Having refitted his ships, De With again put to sea, resolved to seek out Blake in the Downs, and there attack him. But the English Admiral antici

pated him, and quitting his anchorage on October 8, pounced down upon the Dutch before they were prepared. The battle began about three in the afternoon, and was fought with extraordinary decision. De With had more ships than Blake, but those of the latter were on the whole of larger size. Like all the sea-fights between England and Holland, it was a yard-arm to yard-arm, muzzle to muzzle contest, in which each combatant seemed inspired with an absolute personal hatred of his adversary-not simply a national, but an individual hatred; and it was only the coming on of night that terminated the slaughter. "I fought from three till sunset," said De With," and during that time I saw nothing but smoke, fire, and English." Three Dutch men-of-war were sunk, one was blown up, and the Rear-Admiral captured. Next day De With would have renewed the battle, but was prevented by De Ruyter and his more prudent officers, and, closely pursued by Blake, they retired towards their own waters.

The enthusiasm which Blake's victory kindled in the heart of England was unbounded. Unfortunately, the Council of State relied so much on the completeness of the victory, that they reduced Blake's fleet by forty ships. The Dutch, on the other hand, resolved on a supreme effort to recover their naval ascendency, which, since the decline of the maritime power of Spain, they had held almost unchallenged, and, having equipped a great fleet by incredible efforts, they called the veteran Tromp to the chief command, with De With and De Ruyter as ViceAdmirals, and Evertom and Buitzen as RearAdmirals. Jealousy and chagrin, however, had broken down De With's health, and at the last moment he was unable to accept the appointment.

With eighty larger ships and fifteen smaller ones, Tromp and De Ruyter, convoying an enormous fleet of 550 merchantmen, ran out of the Meuse on December 1. Then Tromp learned that Blake was in the Downs, and not to risk his fleet, he ordered the traders, under an escort of several menof-war, to put back, while he himself, with the bulk of his force, set out to meet his famous opponent. Blake had only thirty-seven men-of-war and a frigate with him, and a few fire-ships and hoys, the remainder of his ships being distributed in the ports of the Channel and in Plymouth Sound. His flag was hoisted on board the Triumph.

It was about noon, in lowering, gusty weather, when the war-ships of Holland hove in sight. To prevent himself from being driven in-shore, Blake, despite his vast inferiority, put out at once into the open sea, in the hope of reaching Rye Bay, where he expected to gather up reinforcements (December 9). Tromp prepared to intercept him, but was baffled by a violent tempest, which prevailed all night, and the greater part of the following day. At midday on the 10th, the Dutch van overtook the rearward ships of the English off Dungeness, and shots were exchanged. About three, the two Admirals came into collision. Running with his ship before the wind, Blake passed Tromp, and exchanged broadsides. The Garland followed close at her Admiral's heels, but came into such violent contact with Tromp's flag-ship, the Brederode, as to carry away her bowsprit and catheads. Assisted by the