so much "joy and peace in believing" as I used to do? And lest he should be thus swallowed up with discontent, lest he should begin to think that anything had failed of those good things which God had spoken concerning him, he must learn to look to the issue to look not at the present "things which are seen," but to those "things which are not seen and eternal," remembering that here he is to have his evil things, and in the world to come his good things, and that he is, therefore, not to envy the children of this world, because they have for a short time their good things, which are their only enjoyment-but to remember, that what they call happiness will soon disappear, that their pleasures "perish with the using," that their gold and silver "take to themselves wings and flee away;" whilst his good things consist of "treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves cannot break through and steal," and that "where his treasure is there his heart" ought to "be also.” "LORD, HELP! OR WE PERISH.” BY FLORENCE GREENVILLE. In the weary march of life, Faint with toil, and fear, and strife, Help us ever! may we be, Till we Vespasian, who reduced the Isle of Wight under the Roman power, found on his arrival there a fortress, which he garrisoned. The word Carisbrook is thought to be a compound of Welsh and Saxon, though some have derived it naturally enough from the Celtic, Cair-broc, the town of yew-trees. History is silent respecting the Roman transactions here, and no authentic account is to be found until 530, when Cerdic, king of the West Saxons, having destroyed the aborigines of the island, gave this fortress to his nephew, Whitgar. English history, however, is not so chary respecting the place, and from the time of Elizabeth this castle has been one of the prison-houses of our country. The situation of the castle is most imposing; the shape of the hill upon which it stands at once pointing it out as an almost impregnable position. The fortifications which now surround the castle, forming an irregular pentagon, were the work of Queen Elizabeth, who, when the Spanish Armada was thought to be hovering round our southern coast, gave £4000 towards the outworks of this fortress, which cost a sum much more than even this royal gift. It was on this account that the initials of her majesty appear over the ivy-mantled gateway of the western entrance, with the date 1598. Probably the finest specimen of architecture to be seen here is that gate, with the two round towers, just within this entrance, of the date of Edward IV. It bears the arms of its builder, the unfortunate Lord Woodville, who suffered imprisonment and death "in Pomfret's darksome tower," in 1483. It is here that the secret passage of the warder, not usually pointed out to the stranger, is to be seen. The ancient wooden door is formed of very strong lattice-work, with a piece of iron kept down by a large nail at the entrance, still opposing the approach of the unwelcome intruder to the castleyard, which is only accessible by a small wicket, coeval with the gate. The Mountjoy Tower is of great interest. Its walls are very massive, and it is as old, in all probability, as the Norman keep behind it. This keep stands on a lofty mound of earth, thrown up for the purpose, on the summit of which is the donjon with its precipitous entrance. And what an entrance is that! Who has not realized the fact, that even when an opposing force had gained possession of the hill, that awful abyss seemed prepared to swallow them up alive! Those eighty steps, so steep and hard to climb, how easily might they prove the scene of overthrow and sudden destruction to an enemy flushed with triumph, and eager to rescue the imprisoned captives, pent up within the small square portal of that inner cell. No doubt the value of this stronghold was felt, when Richard de Rivers sought to maintain his defence against Stephen in 1136, and in 1377 by Hugh Tyrrell, the Knight of Essex, when besieged here by the French. Here also is the ancient well, said to be more than 300 feet deep, now nearly filled up; and more interesting still, the original socket in which, for centuries, the flag-staff found its resting-place. The well shown to the public is a Roman one, six feet wide, and 210 feet to the water. It is the practice for strangers to drop a pin into this well, the depth and echoing vault of which reverberates a sound, when the pin touches the water, which is truly remarkable. Some visitors are recommended to try another experiment of a very simple kind. The guide brings with him a sheet of brown paper, and, by the help of a lucifer-match, this is lighted and put into the well. The reaction of the air beneath upon that which is rarified by the flame of the paper keeps it buoyant, so that as it slowly descends into a spiral direction, it irradiates the gloomy pit, so that the whole of the cavity becomes discernible, till the fire is extinguished in the water below. In what are called the domestic buildings, the stair leading to the chamber of Charles I. is eagerly sought for by the visitor; and the window-pane whereon he wrote with his diamond ring his well-known lines. The place is now desolate; the tenant has gone long years ago; the roof has parted from the walls; nothing but the fireplace, the window, and--the history, remain ! How futile and transitory is every earthly thing! That which was deemed sufficiently secure for the detention of a monarch, now gives free passage to every breeze which sighs amid its deserted walls. The bars which opposed the exit of the royal Stuart remain but to show the strength of the iron bands that held him there. The chamber and the donjon alike have yielded up their prey, and thick covered with the creeping ivy, they now give shelter to the birds of night, who find the very heart of the prison a peaceful retreat. |