to stumble upon something about shipwreck, in the Acts of the Apostles, his eye caught the following verse,-"Howbeit, we must be cast upon a certain island."

"That must mean," said the learned minister, "in this instance, the peninsula of Mount Edgcumbe, which most truly resembleth an island: it can be no other in this lot. I will straight down to the beach; and who knows but the wreck of bodies may turn to a saving of souls, if I am there to catch at the poor perishing sinners, and to throw them out the hope of the Word, as an anchor, against all peril. I will about the good work, and trust to my Master for the heavenly wages of the toil." And so saying, he caught up his staff, restored the little Bible to his cloak pocket, and set off with hasty strides after those who were gone on before him.

CHAPTER VI.

Wave high your torches on each crag and cliff;
Let many lights blaze on our battlements;
Shout to them in the pauses of the storm,
And tell them there is hope!

MATURIN'S Bertram.

THE way the party pursued from the house towards the back of Mount Edgcumbe, though then obscured by a stormy sky and the mists of a thick rain, was one, which, when seen under other circumstances, afforded scenes replete with beauty in its most varied forms. Not far distant from the mansion, after winding up the side of a hill, amidst the over-arching shadow of the woods, the wanderer in those wild haunts might enjoy a scene truly magnificent that presented itself to his view at an open space upon the summit.

Looking thence to the west, the Hamoaze appeared, with that animated character which shipping never fails to give to the waters where it is found. Beyond arose the blue and distant hills of Cornwall, extending in a line, till they might be said to become united with those of Devon by the bold eminence of Brent Tor, that stood towering above both counties, like a king who keeps in subjection the nations as they lie prostrate at his feet. In the middle distance arose the towns of Stoke, Stonehouse, and Plymouth, with its ancient castle, then in full strength and grandeur. The buildings that formed these towns were of granite and marble, such costly materials being native to the county. On a fine evening, as they stood glittering and sparkling in the sun, they presented the most brilliant appearance, characterised as they were by the uniformity of their architecture and the beauty of their situation.

Viewed from this particular spot, Plymouth Sound, with the little fortified island of St. Nicholas, or Drake's Island, was seen extended like a map, whilst beyond appeared the deep blue waters of Mill Bay, and in its immediate vicinity, to the right of the Hoe (the Hoe itself being a place so celebrated by Spenser, as to be considered classic ground), was discerned the dismally-named port of Deadman's Bay. The eye, ranging still beyond, looked on the reach, or bold sweep of the Lara flowing at the foot of Saltram woods. By a second

reach, the banks of which were studded with cottages and the little village of Oreston, the river continued its course, and disembogued itself into the Catwater, behind Mount Batten. To this scene, looking to the south, the lofty heights of Staddon formed a side-screen, whilst the view was beautifully intersected by the massive and umbrageous woods of Mount Edgcumbe in the foreground. Beyond Staddon Heights arose, surrounded by the sea, though not far distant from the land, the insulated and solitary Mewstone (probably deriving its name from the quantity of gulls or sea-mews that shelter within its hollows), a rock that looked out on the wide deep, as its waves rolled in tumult towards the shore. From the Mewstone to Penlee Point, on the opposite extremity of the scene, the eye ranged over an horizon formed by the broad and majestic expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. Such, and many such, scenes of beauty are found in the matchless peninsula of Mount Edgcumbe.

At the time Sir Piers and his little company traversed the ground in their way towards that part of the beach whence Hezekiah had descried the ship, a sky black, lowering, and surcharged with storm, gave a dark and awful character to the whole. As they passed on, it was melancholy to hear the wind howl through the old trees, that groaned as if in accompaniment to the horrors of the tempest; and to those sufferings which, on land as well as sea, are its frequent attendants.

Shocking as it may be, it is nevertheless true, that at the date of our narrative, and many years after, the shipwrecks on the western coast of Devon and Cornwall were called, by the lower orders residing near the shore, “God's gifts;" for whatever the sea sent, in its fury, towards the land, was seized, under this name, as lawful spoil; and many were the circumstances of the most inhuman barbarities committed by these desperadoes on the miserable sufferers who thus fell within their power; escaping the fury of a merciless element, to fall into the hands of human beings all as pitiless: and instances were recorded, when, in order to secure a spoil of value acquired by such means, many shipwrecked persons had actually been murdered by these hardened traffickers in misery and guilt.

It had been amongst the many meritorious exertions of Sir Piers Edgcumbe's life, that he had adopted every possible means on the coast within and near his own domain, not only to prevent these crimes, but to afford every possible assistance to the unfortunate who, in his day, from the want of a lighthouse on the Eddystone rocks, were so frequently shipwrecked either on that fatal reef or still nearer to the coast. All things necessary on such occasions were ever held in readiness, and

now had been brought out by his people on the call of humanity towards the distressed.

After some time spent in toiling up the hill against the wind and storm that blew directly in their faces, the party gained the back of the peninsula, and gradually began to descend towards the beach; passing through a little valley (in the direction of Cawsand Bay), surrounded on either side by bold and abrupt heights. A cottage stood in the bottom, about a hundred yards from the sea.* Two lofty elms, uninjured by their proximity to such a tempestuous neighbour, being so well sheltered on either side, marked the little garden of the dwelling, which stood thus embosomed in solitude and beauty. Rocks of ebon blackness skirted the shore, and the ocean rolled its majestic waves above them, bursting and breaking into sheets of foam; whilst the surrounding heights presented the wildest combinations of broken and cragged cliffs, red in colour, and here and there hung with dark pines, or with woods that grew feathering down to the very water's edge.

The party now looked with anxious eye towards the sea; but, so thick was the haze, so heavy the swell, that nothing of the ship could be seen.

At length Sir Piers expressed his determination to ascend a certain point which he well knew amid the cliffs; where, from its commanding height, he should in all probability discern the vessel, if she still lived or was drifting towards the more westerly point of the shore. In the mean time, as every instant grew more dark and hazy, he commanded torches to be lighted and carried along the coast, so as to make signals, that the ship might avoid those tremendous rocks on which she would inevitably be dashed to pieces if she came but near them.

Sir Piers himself then took a torch, and accompanied by a servant, who bore another, set off for the cliffs, leaving Hezekiah and Sir Hugh busied in directing the movements of his people on the beach. With some difficulty he drove back Orgar, the famous water-dog, that seemed bent on following his master's steps.

Sir Piers, bold in heart, quick in eye, and accustomed from a boy to scale the heights and crags of Mount Edgcumbe, before any thing like regular paths were formed to facilitate such a purpose, now ascended them, though not without considerable hazard. Several of these cliffs were also hung with tall and gloomy pines, that creaked and almost screamed as the wind assailed them on every side. Others lay torn up by the roots, shattered and overhanging some precipitous heights, A beautiful cottage, lately built, now stands on the same spot.

as the dizzy and uncertain track wound by the side of their abyss: sometimes a cliff appeared rising above the rolling vapours or thin clouds, that seemed to float from the sea to the shore; whilst anon the face of a giant rock, dark as the hour, would become illumined by the vivid flashes of lightning that now again began to play athwart the heavens; shewing distinctly the scathed tops of many a bald oak that had already suffered by similar shocks of the tempest.

Then followed a peal of thunder, so reverberated amid the cliffs that even the stout heart of Sir Piers was for a moment assailed by terror; he stopped and acknowledged, by a feeling of involuntary reverence and awe, the irresistible power of Him who "bowed the heavens and came down, whilst darkness was under his feet." Another peel was followed by deep silence; for the tempest seemed to pause in its fury, as the thunder rolled away among the far-extending heights. Yet the pause was momentary, for, the storm rising again, the roar of ocean was heard contending with that of the winds, which rushed in furious gusts amid the hollows and the rocks. The red flame of the torches cast an unearthly hue on the sides of the dark cliffs, as Sir Piers now struggled forward, resolute to gain that point whence he might command the whole extent of sea beyond the mouth of the harbour, and, should the vessel yet live, hold out the signal which he had prepared for her guidance.

After incessant toil and difficulty, that no person but one perfectly well acquainted with the track could have undertaken with any probability of success, Sir Piers at length gained a bold eminence that stood out from amid the wooded cliffs. Lower down, and at its base, lay reefs of rock; where, on the very verge of many a point, started up more than one aged pine that had defied alike storms and winds, though not without signs of the elemental contest, for above a century. Beyond was stretched out the main ocean; the spray of whose billows, as they burst with fury against the shore, dashed itself nearly as high as the lofty eminence on which Sir Piers was now stationed, commanding at one view the whole expanse of the sea from the Mewstone to Penlee Point, and within the range of which, on a clear day, was seen the Eddystone. Sir Piers, as he thus stood, holding fast by a pine with one hand, whilst the torch was extended in the other, distinctly perceived, drifting towards the shore, what at first appeared a dark speck on the agitated waters. As he attentively looked upon this object, he became convinced that it was a boat driving on to the beach, and apparently governed by no power but that of the winds and waves. The sea, to use an