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rushed to a favorable place to windward, careful at the same time, for the sake of one's ears, not to stand broadside on to the monster reporter of the day-about twenty yards is a respectable arm's length. Soon the word is given, Fire! The earth shakes again-the concussion is considerable, and we saw the ponderous missile puffing, grunting, and fizzing till its strength is exhausted, and a destination reached where he may lie for generations, and then be investigated by an archeological meeting some 500 years

hence.

August 16th, his strength was to be tried against the Warner plates and backing; and as this material is rather expensive stuff to build up only to be knocked down and destroyed, the target was made about 12 feet square, and the velocity of the shot reduced to that of 2000 yards, by making the charge 50 lbs. instead of 70 lbs.--the target being placed at 500 yards, so that the projec tile should strike it with the same velocity as if it had been 2000 yards. This is a most important point to settle, as on it depends forts or no forts at Spithead. The question of penetration is the one to be settled, after that there is little doubt that at more than 4000 yards plates may be perforated. The final appliances for working huge guns, such as hydraulic power, etc., would soon be applied, the only difficulty per contra being, that in actual war fast steamers are not so easily hit at long ranges as stationary targets at 500 yards, and speed is after all a most important element, and one more baffling to any antagonist.

The next space beyond the Shears is used for the field artillery, 9 and 12 practice, 1000, 1500, and 2000 yards being their ranges. Behind them, on the left, are the mortars, which are not fired at targets, but at a certain area marked off by bannerets, into which the shell is thrown; and most beautiful is the curve described by the shell in its flight. To trace it well one should be a little out of line with the mortar.

A few yards beyond the light guns are some experimental platforms, where a new carriage was being tried, and the gun much depressed to try the working of the carriage in firing from the bank. The shot strikes the water some 50 yards

from the muzzle; the water rises in an immense volume, far finer than the Grandes Eaux de Versailles, and falling in spray, spoon drift, and mist, forms a rainbow cloud of the greatest intensity of prismatic coloring, the shot in rising from the water generally ricocheting about 1000 yards. I dare say the heart of many a bargeman has quaked from the unexpected proximity of some of these erratic spheres.

We now approach a sentry. Another jetty, and we come on a sentry who has strict orders not to allow any one to touch the projectiles piled up on either side, these being intended for the now pending competitive trials of Armstrong and Whitworth. The Whitworth are all on the hexagonal system, and those of Armstrong of the shunt and leadcoated formation. The comparative durability of these guns is one of the principal objects now being tested.

We are now at a breast work, where several 110 pounders are mounted. There is a snug safety-box on either side for watching the effect of shot. Here we find Hall's rockets being fired-and fearful things they are. The rush with which they start, with a sound like tearing calico on a large scale, the fiery train and smoke in which we lose sight of them, are all things not easily forgotten. When they burst, they leave a black train of smoke, and, at the same time, tear up the water by the pole at which they are fired, and towards which they are levelled on a conducting tube placed at an angle to suit their range. Turning to the left we come upon the store or museum of experiment in projectiles, where they are stored up for instruction and reference in every form of smash, crash, and dash; some in their normal state; some having struck iron plates, through iron plates, and into iron plates; some, too, the effusions of the well-intentioned, that never even got so far as being entertained by the committee or any one else save the energetic inventor. The large square now before us has a convenient suite of offices for the commandant, brigade major, and staff, and a photographic department, a branch now so desirable as a faithful reporter of facts and results to those not present at the time.

The remaining part is composed of a

park of artillery, sheds for guns, magazines, and bygones of artillery; stepping-stone efforts which have cost much private and public money, but which have brought us up to the present, and placed us well, we hope, for the future.

heavier, till at last they could hardly move in their iron-clad prisons, and gradually left it off as powder weapons improved. It would be a curious repetition if the very heavy ship armor met

the same fate.

The Warrior plates are very interesting also.

The French plates are screwed with a very long, well-made screw into the wood. Some plates are bolted, but the concussion brings off the head. Some skeptics assert that the Shoeburyness edition of the Gloire is incomplete, and requires an inner iron plate to make it a faithful representation of the French iron-clads.

The remaining part of the government property is devoted to the quarters of officers and barracks; and curiously enough, there is no racquet-court, the usual accompaniment to all artillery barracks. Leaving the officers' quarters on our left, with the mess-room, reading room, etc., we come upon the engineers' offices already alluded to, with the commandant's house lying back. Beyond it is a gymnasium, lecture-room, and a very fine drill house for big guns, 190 feet Be this as it may, the fact of the long; and most interesting it is to see "1864 experiments is this, that the the men manning the naval breech-load-guns beat the plates, and the only ers, the 7-inch naval, the garrison guns for breast work and for casemates, 40pounders breech-loaders for field service, with all their appliances.

This is a very stirring sight, and one cannot see it without wishing to join them, reminding one of days on board the old Excellent, and almost wishing, with the excited volunteer in Punch, that one could only put in ball-cartridge. We have now only to pass more barracks. We arrive at the brick-field, where barges stop the practice occasionally, and turning round, work back by the target-ground. Hitherto we have seen the offensive, now we come to the "Protectorate," and sad colanders they

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Fairbairn....
Scott Russell.
Clarke.....

The Lord Warden.
Warrior.

...........La Gloire (French);

and are generally large-plate men, say 20 feet by 3 feet 6 inches. The foreigners are small-plate men, 2 feet 5 inches by 5 feet 10 inches; and to judge from the last riddle-target of La Gloire model, composed of 6-inch wrought-iron plate, then 10-inch oak, horizontal in grain, 11inch vertical, and 6-inch horizontal; in all, 27 inches of oak behind the 6-inch plate, the large plates carry the palm, and have greater stability and strength, In the sixteenth century, the armor of knights was gradually made heavier and NEW SERIES VOL. I., No. 1.

chance for ships lies in their speed and clever handling. The insular position of England suggests the idea of a large ship with a first-rate platform, so that, as a non-aggressive power, she is comparatively secure. It is a great credit to the government that the Shoebury school of gunnery is the only one in the world; and all who visit it will join in testifying to the kind manner in which they are received and treated by the commandant and officers of this interesting and scientific establishment.

CROMWELL REFUSING THE CROWN.

[EXPLANATION OF THE PLATE ENGRAVING.] AT the head of this number of the ECLECTIC will be found a fine steel-plate engraving illustrating an important event. in the life of OLIVER CROMWELL, who was Lord Protector of England from Febru ary 16, 1654, till his death, September 3, 1658. He had taken an active and leading part in the public affairs of England for a number of years previous to his solemn installation to the high office of Lord Protector by a Council of the officers of his army.

The character and public life of Oliver Cromwell are too well known to every reader of history to require any extended sketch in this place. All that seems to be needful is to present a view of the circumstances connected with the offer which was made to him of the English

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crown, and the reasons which influenced him to decline the tempting offer. As a member of Parliament, he had acted a conspicuous part in the councils of the nation in opposing King Charles. He had been appointed to high military command, and had been uniformly successful in gaining victories against the king's forces. After the death of Charles he had been chosen Lord Protector of England. The first Charter of the Commonwealth was drawn up by the same Council of officers. The second, called the "Petition and Advice," was framed in May, 1657, by the Parliament which the Protector had assembled in the previous year, and by which Oliver Cromwell was de facto King of England. After various conflicts with secret foes and open enemies, he issued an order by which he excluded a hundred members who were obnoxious to him. Thus purified, the Assembly voted a renunciation of all title to the throne in the family of the Stuarts, and Colonel Stepson moved that the crown should be bestowed upon Cromwell.

A conference was soon afterwards appointed, at which the Protector's scruples respecting the assumption of the title of King were stated and argued. His mind wavered at first, but his prudence ultimately prevailed. He knew that the danger of acceding would be

imminent. The odium in which the army had been taught to hold the regal title could never be overcome, and therefore he consented unwillingly to reject it.

The engraving represents the Council holding the conference. Cromwell has arisen from his chair, and appears addressing the Council; stating his views and objections, and refusing the crown. John Milton, Cromwell's secretary, appears sitting at the table pen in hand. Next to him sits Sir Richard Onslow with his finger on the book. Behind Milton's chair stands the Earl of Tweeddale. Next, in front of him, Sir Thomas Widdrington, the Speaker. Behind Sir Richard appears Lord Brochil, and behind him stands General Whalley, who afterwards fled to the United States, and was buried near the Centre Church, in New - Haven. Behind these men are Cromwell's military friends and bodyguards. On the other side of Cromwell, nearest to him stands Sir John Glynn, the Chancellor. Next to him the Hon. William Lenthall, Master of the Rolls; and next behind him stands LieutenantGeneral Desborow; and in the rear other distinguished friends and officers of Cromwell. This brief description and explanation of the personages represented in the engraving will aid the reader to understand the great historic event which it aims to depict before the eye.

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ALONG the shore, along the shore,
While hushed is now the tempest's din,
Except the sullen muffled roar

Of breakers rolling slowly in,

A woman toward the sea-line dark

Turns, as she walks, her tearful eyes:
"I see no sail, no boat, no bark-
Alas! alas!" she weeping cries.
Along the shore, along the shore,

The fisher's wife still hurries on,
And scans the tawny ocean o'er,

Still heaving though the storm has gone. Last night the gale that fiercely blew

Loud soughed against the window-pane; She could not weep-ah! well she knew What bark was on the angry main. Along the shore, along the shore,

Where roll the waves with ceaseless din, The fisher's wife shall see no more The red-sailed lugger coming in.

Alas! where far the dark sea-line
The sky from ocean doth divide,
The bark lies swallowed by the brine
A score of fathoms 'neath the tide!

Along the shore, along the shore,
Though dark her grief, the mourner hears
A voice that whispers, "Weep no more,
For I will wipe away thy tears.
Vain is the tempest's wrath, and vain
The billows' rage with ruin fed:
The lost one I will bring again-

THE SEA SHALL RENDER UP THE DEAD!"

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NOVEMBER.

"THE human mortals want their winter here." -Midsummer Night's Dream.

WILL the leaves never fall?

These rotting remnants of a long-past spring;
Adroop along th' unfruited garden-wall,
Aflaunt gold-gauded on the poplar tall,
In death-dews glistering:
Will the leaves never fall?

Will the frost never come?

The kindly frost that, with its healthful sting,
Probes to the quick dull autumn's dross and scum,
And strikes drear winds and fretting waters dumb,
With cruel kindly sting:
Will the frost never come?

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Where loves of youth and friendship smiled Uncursed by thee, vile yellow slave!

Fade, day-dreams sweet, from memory fade! The perished bliss of youth's first prime, That once so bright on fancy played,

Revives no more in after time.

Far from my sacred natal clime

I haste to an untimely grave;

The daring thoughts that soared sublime
Are sunk in ocean's southern wave.

Slave of the mine, thy yellow light
Gleams baleful as the tomb-fire drear
A gentle vision comes by night

My lonely widowed heart to cheer:
Her eyes are dim with many a tear,
That once were guiding stars to mine:
Her fond heart throbs with many a fear!
I cannot bear to see thee shine.

For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave,
I left a heart that loved me true!

I crossed the tedious ocean wave,
To roam in climes unkind and new.
The cold wind of the stranger blew
Chill on my withered heart; the grave,
Dark and untimely, met my view,
And all for thee, vile yellow slave."
--Sunday Magazine.

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And out of pity's spring draw idle tears. O Nature! shall it ever be thy will

Ill things with good to mingle, good with ill?

Why should the heavy foot of sorrow press

The willing heart of uncomplaining loveMeet charity that shrinks not from distress,

Gentleness, loth her tyrants to reprove? Though virtue weep forever and lament, Will one hard heart turn to her and relent?

Why should the reed be broken that will bend,
And they that dry the tears in others' eyes,
Feel their own anguish swelling without end,
Their summer darkened with the smoke of
sighs?

Sure, Love to some fair Eden of his own
Will flee at last, and leave us here alone.
Love weepeth always-weepeth for the past,

For woes that are, for woes that may betide;
Why should not hard ambition weep at last,
Envy and hatred, avarice and pride?
Fate whispers sorrow is your lot,
They would be rebels-love rebelleth not.
-Alfred Tennyson,

DREAMS OF THE PAST.

As we wandered alone where the moonlight

reposes,

And the wind o'er the ripple is tuneful and sweet,

When the stars glitter out as the day flower closes,

And the night-bird and dew-drop are all that we meet;

Oh! then, when the warm flush of thought is unsealing

The bonds that a cold world too often keeps fast,

We shall find that the deepest and dearest of feeling

Is pouring its tide in a dream of the past. Oh! who shall have travelled through life's misty morning,

Forgetting all way-marks that rose on their

track?

Though the things we loved then had maturity's scorning,

Though we cast them behind, yet we like to

look back.

Though the present may charm us with magical numbers,

And lull the rapt spirit, entrancing it fast, Yet 'tis rarely the heart is so sound in its slumbers,

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AN ATHENIAN STORY.

IN Athens, ere its sun of fame had set,
Amidst pomp and show the gazing crowds were
met,

Intent forever upon something new,
The mimic wonders of the stage to view.

So here the wide extended circus spreads
In gathered ranks its sea of living heads;
Ranged in close order, rising row on row,
The void arena claims the space below.
The seats were filled; but ere the show began,
A stranger entered-'twas an aged man ;
Awhile he sought a place with aspect mild:
The polished young Athenians sat and smiled,
Eyed his confusion with a sidelong glance,
But kept their seats, nor rose on his advance.

As to rest without mingling some dream of, for a burning blush of deeper hue

the past.

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To mark the shame of that self-glorious crew;
How poor the produce of fair Learning's tree,
That bears no fruits of sweet humility!
The growth of arts and sciences how vain
In hearts that feel not for another's pain!
Not so the Spartan youth, whose simple school
Instilled the plain but salutary rule
Of kindness, and whose honest souls preferred
Truth to display-performance to a word.
These Spartan youths had their appointed place,
Apart from the Athenians, distinguished race,
And rose with one accord, intent to prove
To honored age their duty and their love;
Nor did a Spartan youth his seat resume
Till the old man found due and fitting room.

Then came the sentence of reproof and praise,
Stamped with the sternness of the ancient days;
For, standing full amid the assembled crowd,
The venerable stranger cried aloud:

"The Athenians learn their duty well, but lo!
The Spartans practice what the Athenians know."
The words were good, and in a virtuous cause;
They justly earned a nation's glad applause;
But we have surer words of precept given
In God's own book; the word that came from

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