to Oxford,
where he showed a passion for learning, and before long became famous as
a lecturer and preacher. 'His behaviour was so virtuous that his
heaviest adversary ... could not notwithstanding forbear to yield this
testimony to his commendation: "I should love thee, Jewel, wert thou not
a Zuinglian. In thy faith thou art a heretic, but sure in thy life thou
art an angel."'

Jewel's friendship with Peter Martyr, and other marks of his Protestant
leanings, were the reason of his being expelled, in Queen Mary's days,
from Corpus Christi College. But he had 'a little Zoar to fly
unto'--Broadgates Hall, now Pembroke College.

As danger became more imminent, he escaped to Switzerland, and did not
come back to England until Elizabeth's reign had dawned. Fuller's brief
summary is that he 'wrote learnedly, preached painfully, lived piously,
died peaceably, Anno Domini 1572.' And his 'memory' (to return to
Westcote) was 'a fragrant, sweet-smelling odour, blown abroad not only
in that diocese, but generally through the whole kingdom.'

Our author finishes his remarks on Berrynarbour by quoting an epitaph
then to be found in the church, a building which has a fine
Perpendicular tower with battlement and pinnacles. The memorial was to
Nicholas Harper:

'Harper! the music of thy life,
So sweet, so free from jar or strife;
To crown thy skill hath rais'd thee higher,
And plac'd thee in the angels' choir:
And though that death hath thrown thee down,
In heaven thou hast thy harp and crown.'

A short distance farther on, the road runs down into Combe Martin Bay,
following the little creek that narrows and narrows inland between high
rock walls till two small houses seem almost to block it, and the road
twists round them and runs up the enclosed valley beyond. The village is
an odd one, for it is over a mile long, but hardly any houses stand away
from the main street, which is made up of cob-walled, thatched cottages,
quite large shops, little slate-roofed houses, and villas in their own
garden, all jumbled together as if they had been thrown down
accidentally. Masses of red valerian, and some of the graceful bright
rose-bay willow-herb, give colour to the banks and overhang the walls.

Combe Martin has the rare distinction amongst English parishes of owning
mines with veins of silver as well as lead. Camden tells us that the
silver-mines 'were first discovered in Edward the First's days, when
three h