he England
that was to be. It is this fact that makes the Elizabethan period so
fascinating and so full of romance and glamour. Whenever we call it up
before our mind's eye it is surrounded for us with all those qualities
which go toward making a great picture. There is the awful feud 'twixt
England, the modern spirit making toward progress and civilization, and
Spain, the well-nigh worn-out retrogressive force that would dam the
river of human thought. There is the spectacle of the Armada, baffled
and beaten, and of the English war-ships under men like Drake and
Frobisher, dropping like avenging angels upon some Spanish port and
working havoc on the Spanish treasure galleons. There, too, are the
figures of men like Grenville and Raleigh, born adventurers, leaders of
men, who knew how to die as bravely and fearlessly as they had lived.
And beyond all the glory and adventure there looms in the background of
the picture the black cruelties of Spain, practiced in the dark corners
of the earth, against which the English spirit of that day never ceased
from protesting with speech and sword. It was well for the world that in
that fierce contest England triumphed. Had Spain succeeded in
perpetuating its hellish system, how different would life in east and
west have been! But it was God's will that not Spain but England should
win--and so to-day we find the English-speaking peoples of the world in
Great Britain and America, in Australia and Africa, free, enlightened,
full of great purpose and noble aims, working out in very truth their
own salvation. It is when one comes to think of this, that one first
realizes the immeasurable thanks due to the heroes, known and unknown,
of the Elizabethan age. Whether they stand high on the scroll of fame or
lie forgotten in some quiet graveyard or in the vast oceans which they
crossed, it was they, and they only, who laid the great foundations of
the England and the United States of to-day.

J. S. FLETCHER.

IN THE DAYS OF DRAKE.

CHAPTER I.

OF MY HOME, FRIENDS, AND SURROUNDINGS.

Now that I am an old man, and have some leisure, which formerly I did
not enjoy, I am often minded to write down my memories of that
surprising and remarkable adventure of mine, which began in the year
1578, and came to an end, by God's mercy, two years later.

There are more reasons than one why I should engage in this task. Every
Christmas brings a houseful of grandchildren and young folks