ambassador of the East India Company to the Great Mogul, and succeeded in setting up a trading station at Surat. Every Plymouth hero, however, is eclipsed by Sir Francis Drake, who is always counted their chief, though he was born near Tavistock. 'Could my pen as ably describe his worth as my heart prompteth to it, I would make this day-star appear at noon-day as doth the full moon at midnight,' is Risdon's ecstatic exclamation. When all his grand qualities and successes have been contemplated, it is still rather surprising to find the extraordinary impression he created in that epoch of heroic enterprise. The stories of magic that have clustered round his name witness to his wonderful personality, for naturally they are much more significant than those that have been woven around the older heroes of a more superstitious, less civilized age. These legends must have been handed down to generation after generation, for, writing about 1835, Mrs Bray mentions that the peasantry near Tavistock still talked of the 'old warrior,' as they called him. To choose one or two at random, there is the story that once, after he had been away for a very long time, his wife supposed him to be dead, and thought that she was free to marry again. A spirit whispered the news to Sir Francis, who was at the Antipodes. At once he fired a great cannon-ball, 'so truly aimed that it shot up right through the globe, forced its way into the church, and fell with a loud explosion between the lady and her intended bridegroom. "It is the signal of Drake!" she exclaimed. "He is alive, and I am still a wife. There must be neither troth nor ring between thee and me."' Another story tells that after he had finished the ever-famous game of bowls on Plymouth Hoe, which was interrupted by tidings of the Armada, Sir Francis cut up a block of wood, and flung the chips into the sea, when every ship became a fire-ship, and the enemy's fleet was really destroyed because of the 'irresistable strength of those vessels that he had called up to "flame amazement" on the foes of Elizabeth and of England.' When the citizens of Plymouth wanted a more abundant supply of water, they appealed to Drake, and he was ready to help them. 'So he called for his horse, mounted, rode to Dartmoor, and hunted about till he found a very fine spring. Having fixed on one that would suit his purpose, he gave a smart lash to his horse's side, pronouncing as he did so some magical words, when off went the animal as fast as he could gallop, and the stream followed his heels all the way into the town.' It is not possible here to pick more legends from the group, excepting one which was certainly told among the people a few years ago. Drake promised, they said, that if ever the country were hard pressed by any foe, and his countrymen should call him by striking his drum, he would hear them, and come back and scatter the enemy.