THE LOSS OF THE WHITE SHIP.

"THOUGH the sinking sun be low, and the waves be foaming white,"
Said Prince William, "I must sail across the angry sea to-night;
My father and his nobles are already on before,

And I fain would set my foot as soon as his upon the shore.
Is there anywhere a captain bold, and a swift, sure ship beside,
Will carry me where my father reigns beyond this roaring tide?"

Said Fitz-Stephen, "Noble Prince, when of old thy grandsire's sword,
Of yon white-girdled realm made him conqueror and lord,

My father's was the bark which bore the Duke, and all his might,
And a proud man were his son might he steer thee o'er to-night.
Though the sun be low, and dim the sky, and white the wild waves' crest,
To yon white cliffs shall the White Ship speed, like a swan to its island nest."

The White Ship is afloat, and Prince William at her prow, And Fitz-Stephen's hand upon her helm-a proud man is he now. "Crowd all your sails, my men," he cried, "and all your oars put out, Ye have drunk your Prince's rich red wine, and your hearts are high and stout;

Stretch to your oars, and sweep the waves, and speed us over the foam, The swan to his mate, the Prince to his sire, and the White Ship to her home."

Alas! for the speed that hurried them unheeding on the rock,

And the oarsmen's might that made the good ship reel beneath the shock.
"She is sinking, by S. Michael! she is filling with the wave,
Let down the boat-be all our care King Henry's heir to save!"
They clear the wreck, they ply the oar, the Norman coast is near,
But three hundred drowning voices are wailing in his ear.

"Put off!" they cry, "the Prince is safe, God pity all beside !"
"Put back, it is my sister's voice," the gentle Prince replied.
They reach the parting wreck where yet the drowning wretches cling,
And all the desperate crew from the sinking vessel spring;
The White Ship breaks, the boat goes down-O, peerless day of sorrow!
Of that "incomparable" band, but one beheld the morrow.

But one beheld the morrow; on the White Ship's slender mast
They found the butcher Berthould in the morning clinging fast;
He had heard a voice at midnight-Fitz-Stephen's, stout and brave-
Shouting, "Is the Prince alive?" as he wrestled with the wave;
Berthould answered, "All are lost!" and the captain bowed his head,
And the waters hushed his groans as they settled o'er the dead.

There was sorrow on the Saxon shore, and anxious communing,-
A bitter tale hath Berthould told, and who shall tell the king?
Count Theobald trembled and looked pale, and sagely held his peace,
And the silence and the dread suspense for three days did not cease;
Prince, peer, and captain all destroyed, of England's hopes the chief,-
A bold man must it be to brave the King's first burst of grief.

On the third day a fair young child, with flaxen, flowing hair,
Drew near the King, and knelt in amazement and despair;
His little hands were raised, and a tear upon his cheek,

And the King stroked his head, and asked, "My child, what dost thou seek?”
Then the child told his simple tale, but trembled as he spoke,
For the King fell fainting back, as beneath a thunder stroke.

The Saxon bards exulted in their tyrant's day of woe,

"They would yoke us like their oxen, if the will of God were so;

But the proud youth's head is bruised upon the tempest-beaten rocks,

And, where the crown of gold should sit, the sea-weed wreathes his locks."
The King went sorrowing to his grave, a clerkly man and wise,
And never came a smile again to light his aged eyes.

J. E. M.

A CHILD'S DREAM.

By the Author of Tales of the Martyrs,)

"THE ANIMAL CREATION.

WHAT vision breaks upon the sleeping child? A garden such as earth no longer boasts; a garden pure as it first came from its Creator's hands; spontaneously bringing forth all fruits and herbs, and every larger tree, pleasant to sight, and which are good for food bounded by sparkling rivers; a garden such as the imagination loves to dwell upon, but words can poorly paint. Birds of every hue and size gladdened the leafy grove with their sweet, joyous song. Animals, of various sorts, were grouped on hill, or plain, or in the shady covert, as taste and habit led them. Lions and wolves, and tigers, sheep and oxen, with the fleet chamois and rock loving goat, followed their several instincts; the instinct guiding them when all was good; for, feeding on the herbage given it for meat, each with its fellowcreatures dwelt in peace. The Angel let him gaze till the sweet calm of that bright region had deeply sunk into the child's heart, and then it seemed as though a mist rose up before him, thickening as it rose, till he could see no more.

How changed the scene he next beheld. 'Twas night and the same beasts, so fierce and savage grown they scarcely looked the same, were roaring for their prey. The noble ox and graceful stag, still beautiful, but sadly altered by its suspicious fear, fell beneath their grasp; the helpless sheep died unresisting. And not amongst the beasts alone; but birds and insects, fish, wherever there was sentient life, the stronger preyed upon the less and weaker. The dreaming child knew that it was man's sin had wrought this grievous change, and he was very sad, and with a tearful eye turned to the Angel. The Angel, in a voice more clear and deep than he had ever heard before, so clear and deep it thrilled his very soul, repeated, "The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion, and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all My holy mountain."

Then the child's tears were dried. He knew full well that blessed promise was the Word of One far higher than the Angel, and though he felt that he could understand but dimly the hidden spiritual meanings dwelling here, as elsewhere in that holy Book, he felt sure that they meant something very good, and in that trust was happy.

Then other sacred passages arose before him; he had never known how often animals are spoken of in Scripture until then. First as types of the great Sacrifice, a subject full of deepest mystery and with deep reverence to be regarded. The many anecdotes recorded of them, as of Noah's dove, the bird of meekness bearing the olive branch, 'first welcome pledge to those confined within the floating ark, that the avenging waters were abated. The dark ravens feeding Elijah; bringing the holy Prophet, in that lone abode by the still waters, his morning and his evening meal; the ass given to see the Angel when his master saw him not; and then endowed with power of speech to plead against that master's cruelty; and the same ass marked with the Cross, bearing our Blessed SAVIOUR in the long prophesied triumphal entry into the royal city which precedes His death. Again, the sending man to learn of them as to the tiny ant, the crane, and swallow. The many proofs of GoD's all-seeing care and tender love for them. His mindfulness of the "much cattle" of repentant Nineveh. His feeding the young ravens when they call. His taking note of every sparrow that may fall unto the ground: "Fear not therefore; ye are of more value than many sparrows." "Fear not:" if we will hearken little voices speak unto us all day long. "Fear not:" the commonest bird that flies, the least esteemed, the one which comes so near about our homes, that we can scarcely look into the open air without a sight of many, has, by our Heavenly FATHER's love, been made a monitor to bid us trust in Him.

Then the Angel showed him many things of birds and beasts, and insects; of that living world, so full of interest to the young. He took him down a sheltered lane, and there, within a close, thick hedge, he pointed out a nest. How beautifully made; tough grass and hair, and tiny twig without; and the inside, so soft and warm with moss and wool, the child much wondered how the little bird could form it with such neatness. Three young ones sat within; droll, downy creatures, with heads erect and eyes all shut; the little boy quite laughed to see them, they looked so fast asleep. All at once a fluttering wing was heard, and he stood very still, for well he knew the parent bird was coming; and the little nestlings, sleepy as they looked, knew too; for every beak, great, yellow beak, was opened for the food their mother brought them. He stood to see how carefully she fed each in its turn, and when they all had had enough, and she sprang

tenderly upon her helpless brood, and fondly cherished them, his soul was raised in filial love to Him, Who, in His lowliest creatures, shadows forth His Own Almighty care.

Next he beheld taking their annual flight a pair of storks. Slowly they came, and as they nearer drew, he saw that one was bearing on its back their aged parent, for the poor old bird had grown too weak to fly, and the two young, thus toilsomely, were carrying him by turns along their trackless path. Glad was the child to know how this good bird is loved; and then he thought, if he lived in a country which the storks frequented, how he should hope his dwelling might be honoured with a nest, and watch their yearly coming. The Angel bade him never to forget the lesson they had taught him, the filial love and self-devotion seen in them; and, with it, to remember that He Who in the lower creatures has implanted so much of what is good, would surely make him holy, if but in heart and truth he did desire it.

He saw the Arab's horse straining every nerve to save his master from the chasing foe; saw him, when the well-known camp appeared in view, press forward with redoubled effort; till when his own tent door was reached, his staggering limbs gave way, and, as his master sprang to the ground unhurt, he fell, and with just enough of consciousness to show he knew what he had done, and felt and understood the sad caresses of the weeping family-weeping, amid their thankful joy, for him he died, mourned as a friend by those who in his life had used and valued him as such.

He saw the dog rescuing the traveller from his snowy grave, and in so many different ways from water and the treachery of his fellow-man; and not dogs only, but even other animals, in various manners, helping and saving him who was ordained their ruler, that the child much wondered he could ever treat attachment, so confiding and so steadfast, with unkindness.

Again the Guardian Spirit showed his charge a little crawling caterpillar. Its first brief stage soon over, now it lay, safe in its curious tomb, a sleeping chrysalis; another period, and that tomb is burst, and the bright insect, with new life endowed, soars gladly forth upon its brilliant wings, a butterfly. Meet emblem ever deemed of man's existence; a lowly worm on earth, soon sinking to the grave, and resting there till the great morning, when this mortal, called to higher being, shall put on immortality. He saw the bee with cheerful industry gathering its store of honey, and it was impressed upon him how he thus, in youth, should lay up store for age; a goodly store of real knowledge and of holy thoughts; a store of habits truthful, pure, and meek, which childhood may contract: and then again throughout this life, the given day of labour and probation, how he must provide treasures of

prayer and faith; of righteous deeds and self-denying alms, the fruits which faith, working by love, brings forth.

He saw, and loved to see, the little nautilus lift up its fairy sail, and fearless glide over the pathless sea; and then arose thoughts of the holy prayer which sent him forth to pass the dark waves of this troublous world, borne by an unseen hand. He saw the coral rocks: most wonderful were they; he scarcely could believe that things so small could ever raise aught so immense; and by them he was taught nothing to scorn, nor to think anything that came within the sphere of his allotted duty, beneath his best attention. A mighty temple is uprearing now to Him Who reigns above, and what is man's best and most strenuous labour in its building, but as the lowly work of one sea insect doing its little part in that vast

structure.

A blithesome lark was soaring high to heaven, and its clear, thrilling note bade his heart rise from this low, careworn earth, to the bright world above. A nightingale poured forth its lonely song, while all else slept; and it appeared to him as a meek soul leaving the noise and glare of worldly life, to hold communion with its GOD. "Happy, most happy bird," the little child thought, as he listening stood; "how pure and calm, in all its piercing depth, is thy full lay! Yet it is counted sad, and even so the deep, still joy of holy souls, to those who know it not, is reckoned melancholy." The robin's lowlier note, 'mid falling leaves, and nature mourning round, showed him how cheerfully the trusting heart can bear adversity.

He saw a brood of chickens scattered here and there, and looking for their food. Suddenly the mother called, and then they all left off their eager search, and ran to her at once, and, without knowing why, crept underneath her outstretched wing. The angel pointed. High poised in air, a kite was hovering; slowly he wheeled around, as if about to dart upon the ground; then, with a swoop, arose, and disappointed soared away. "How wise and good !" then thought the sleeping child; "how safe is prompt

obedience !"

And lastly, he was shown an earth-worm. Patiently it did its work beneath the ground, with ceaseless toil keeping it porous, and constantly enriching it by drawing in the withered leaves and grass. Few thought of it, or knew, or cared how much to it they owed; yet it went on its noiseless way. "And such," it seemed a voice he loved whispered to the little dreamer, "such be thy lot, my child; so mayst thou live, fulfilling every duty, and assisting others in thy daily path, yet heeding not, nor seeking man's applause; but evermore, in truthfulness of heart, and singleness of purpose, looking unto Him Who fixed thy station, and Whose watchful eye notes all thou doest."

Then, while the vision faded from his sight, the angel bade him

VOL. XI.

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