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moon, which was at the full, was rising calmly upon a scene of anxious expectation. Would she not be looking, by the morrow's night, upon a subjugated England, a re-enslaved Holland, upon the downfall of civil and religious liberty? Those ships of Spain, which lay there with their banners waving in the moonlight, discharging salvoes of anticipated triumph, would they not, by daybreak, be moving straight to their purpose, bearing the conquerors of the world to the scene of their cherished hopes?" Sunday morning-a day much to be remembered-dawned upon the two navies "calmly gazing at each other, and rising and falling at their anchors as idly as if some vast summer regatta was the only purpose of that great assemblage of shipping."

That memorable Sunday prayer arose, simple and solemn, throughout the land:-"Save and deliver us, we humbly beseech thee, from the hands of our enemies." The Queen herself composed a prayer, found in a MS. in the British Museum, which she sent to "the general of her Highness's army at Plymouth" as her private meditation: "Most Omnipotent and Guider of all our world's mass, that only searchest and fathomest the bottom of all hearts' conceits, and in them seest the true original of all actions intended, how no malice of revenge or quittance of injury, nor desire of bloodshed, nor greediness of lucre, hath been the resolution of our now set out army; but a heedful care and wary watch that no neglect of foes or over surety of harm might breed either danger to us nor glory to them; these being grounds, Thou that didst inspire the mind, we humbly beseech, with bended knees, prosper the work, and with the best forewinds guide the journey, speed the victory, and make the return the advancement of thy glory, the triumph of thy fame, and surety to the realm with the least loss of English blood. To these devout petitions, Lord, give Thou thy blessed grant. Amen."

The commanders of the English fleet determined to send out fire-ships against the Armada. It was just midnight, and all was still save for the unquiet surge of the waters and the sobbing gusts of a coming tempest. Suddenly the waters became luminous. Six flaming vessels bore down upon the Armada. A horrible panic seized upon the Spaniards: they burst into shrieks and outcries. Confusion and flight indescribable everywhere prevailed. When the morning broke, the English found that they had to encounter a broken and demoralized armament. For some time the contest continued, victorious on the side of the English, but a mightier than any human hand interposed to terminate the struggle.

The weather had, on the whole, been moderate, although there had been heavy seas and threatening signs, but now the wind shifted. A terrible gale came on, a gale more terrible than had ever before been known at that season of the year. The English fleet was scattered, and many of the ships came into great peril, especially "among the ill-favoured sands off Norfolk." Within four or five days, however, they all arrived safely in Margate roads.

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Far different was the fate of the Spaniards. But Mr. Motley will best tell the story.

"Over their Invincible Armada, last seen by the departing English midway between the coasts of Scotland and Denmark, the blackness of night seemed suddenly to descend. A mystery hung for a long time over their fate. Damaged, leaking, without pilots, without a competent commander, the great fleet entered that furious storm, and was whirled along the iron crags of Norway and between the savage rocks of Faröe and the Hebrides. In those regions of tempest the insulted North wreaked its full vengeance on the insolent Spaniards. Disaster after disaster marked their perilous track; gale after gale swept them hither and thither, tossing them on sandbanks or shattering them against granite cliffs. The coasts of Norway, Scotland, Ireland were strewn with the wrecks of that pompous fleet, which claimed the dominion of the seas; with the bones of those invincible legions which were to have sacked London and made England a Spanish vice-royalty."

Within two months from the time of his sailing out of the Groyne, the Duke of Medina Sidonia crept back into the harbour of Santander, with the shattered fragments of his mighty armament.

Such was the end of the Spanish Armada. All that incalculable expense, all those enormous levies had shrunk away to this miserable conclusion of a lamentable expedition. Our nationality was saved to be preserved for noble and Christian uses. The invader could not avail aught against

"This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle,

This happy breed of men, this little world,

This precious stone set in the silver sea,

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England."

"Their invincible and dreadful navy," said Sir Francis Drake, "with all its great and terrible ostentation, did not in all their sailings about England, so much as sink or take one ship, bark, pinnace, or cock-boat of ours, or even burn so much as one sheep-cote on this land."

It was not till this terrible danger was past that Elizabeth made that memorable address to her army with whose burning words most of us are familiar. But this circumstance does by no means detract from the greatness of the great Queen. It was yet possible that the Armada might halt and make a descent on this coast. The great army of Spain was still on the opposite shore. It was fully expected that the contest would yet be fought out on English ground. That noble speech we now give: "My loving people, we have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear! I have always so behaved myself that, under God, I have

placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects; and therefore I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved in the midst and heat of the battle to live or die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood even in the dust."

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The gratitude of the nation rose high to heaven for the merciful deliverance vouchsafed. Queen Elizabeth publicly attended service in St. Paul's Cathedral, surrounded by her great captains and statesmen, and with banners and trophies. Throughout all the churches of the land were raised "public and general thanks unto God, with all devotion and inward affection of heart and humbleness, for his gracious favour extended towards us in our deliverance and defence, in the wonderful overthrow and destruction showed by his

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