and air, smoke and fiery vapour, continued so intense, that my hair was almost singed, and my feet insufferably surheated. The bye lanes and narrower streets were quite filled up with rubbish, nor could one have known where he was, but by the ruins of some church or hall, that had some remarkable tower or pinnacle remaining. I then went towards Islington and Highgate, where one might have seen 200,000 people of all ranks and degrees, dispersed and lying along by their heaps of what they could save from the fire, deploring their loss, and though ready to perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one penny for relief, which to me appeared a stranger sight than any I had yet beheld. His majesty and council indeed took all imaginable care for their relief, by proclamation for the country to come in and refresh them with provisions. In the midst of all this calamity and confusion, there was, I know not how, an alarm begun that the French and Dutch, with whom we are now in hostility, were not only landed, but even entering the city. There was in truth some days before great suspicion of those two nations joining; and now, that they had been the occasion of firing the town. This report did so terrify, that on a sudden there was such an uproar and tumult, that they ran from their goods, and taking what weapons they could come at, they could not be stopped from falling on some of those nations whom they casually met, without sense or reason. The clamour and peril grew so excessive, that it made the whole court amazed, and they did with infinite pains and great difficulty reduce and appease the people, sending troops of soldiers and guards to cause them to retire into the fields again, where they were watched all this night. I left them pretty quiet, and came home sufficiently weary and broken. Their spirits thus a little calmed, and the affright abated, they now began to repair into the suburbs about the city, where such as had friends or opportunity got shelter for the present, to which his majesty's proclamation also invited them. 37.—THE RED FISHERMAN. PRAED. [WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED was the son of Mr. Sergeant Praed. In 1820, while at Eton College, he prepared and brought out, with the aid of other young men, a periodical work entitled 'The Etonian,' which went through four editions. He was, subsequently, while at Trinity College, Cambridge, one of the principal contributors to 'Knights's Quarterly Magazine.' Mr. Praed's university career was one of almost unequalled brilliancy. In 1831, having previously been called to the bar, he was returned to Parliament for a Cornish borough. His health was always somewhat feeble; and the promises of his youth were closed by his early death in 1840.] The Abbot arose, and closed his book, And the flowers a thrilling fragrance shed, It was not an hour, nor a scene, for aught On his wrinkled brow that night. But he did not tell the beads: If he looked to the Heaven, 't was not to invoke The Spirit that dwelleth there; If he opened his lips, the words they spoke Had never the tone of prayer. A pious Priest might the Abbot seem, He had swayed the crosier well; But what was the theme of the Abbot dream, The Abbot were loth to tell. Companionless, for a mile or more, And rocks whose very crags seem bowers, As a lover thinks of constancy, Or an advocate of truth. He did not mark how the skies in wrath Grew dark above his head; He did not mark how the mossy path Grew damp beneath his tread; And nearer he came, and still more near, To a pool, in whose recess The water had slept for many a year, Unchanged, and motionless; From the river stream it spread away, The space of half a rood; The surface had the hue of clay, And the scent of human blood; The lazy and fat in the depths are Fishing is fine when the pool is muddy, Broiling is rich when the coals are ruddy!" In a monstrous fright, by the murky light, He looked to the left, and he looked to the right. And what was the vision close before him, That flung such a sudden stupor o'er him? 'T was a sight to make the hair uprise, And the life-blood colder run: The startled Priest struck both his thighs, And the Abbey clock struck one! All alone, by the side of the pool, It might be time, or it might be trouble, Till it hardly covered the bones within. And the hands that worked his foreign vest, Long ages ago had gone to their rest: You would have sworn, as you looked on them, He had fished in the flood with Ham and Shem! There was turning of keys, and creaking of locks, As he took forth a bait from his iron box. From the bowels of the earth, Cold, by this, was the midnight air; But the Abbot's blood ran colder, When he saw a gasping knight lie there, With a gash beneath his clotted hair, And a hump upon his shoulder. And the loyal churchman strove in vain To mutter a Pater Noster: For he who writhed in mortal pain, Was camped that night on Bosworth plain, The cruel Duke of Glo'ster! There was turning of keys, and creaking of locks, As he took forth a bait from his iron box. It was a haunch of princely size, Never a monk that wore a hood Pulling and tugging the Fisherman sate; With a belly as big as a brimming vat, And a nose as red as a comet. "A capital stew," the Fisherman said, "With cinnamon and sherry!" And the Abbot turned away his head, For his brother was lying before him dead, The Mayor of St. Edmond's Bury! There was turning of keys, and creaking of locks, As he took forth a bait from his iron box. Such a stream of delicate odours rolled, That the Abbot fell on his face, and [sainted. fainted, And deemed his spirit was half-way Till thou wilt gather roses white, One jerk, and there a lady lay, A lady wondrous fair; But the rose of her lip had faded away, And her cheek was as white and cold as clay, And torn was her raven hair. Ah, ha!" said the Fisher, in merry guise, "Her gallant was hooked before; "And the Abbot heaved some piteous sighs, For oft he had bless'd those deep blue eyes, The eyes of Mistress Shore! There was turning of keys, and creaking of locks, As he took forth a bait from his iron box. Many the cunning sportsman tried, There was a perfume of sulphur and nitre, As he came at last to a bishop's mitre! From top to toe the Abbot shook As the Fisherman armed his golden hook; And awfully were his features wrought By some dark dream, or wakened thought. Look how the fearful felon gazes On the scaffold his country's vengeance raises, shrine; He hath gnawed in twain my choicest line; Let him swim to the north, let him swim to the south, The Abbot will carry my hook in his mouth." The Abbot had preached for many years, With as clear articulation As ever was heard in the House of Peers His words had made battalions quake, He stammered and he stuttered He stuttered, drunk or dry, 38.-SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY.-II. The 113th number of the 'Spectator' describes Sir Roger de Coverley falling in love with a beautiful widow. The paper is by Steele; and to a reader of the present day it may appear somewhat trite and mawkish. The good old knight looks back upon his unrequited youthful affection with a half-ludicrous solemnity. His mistress was a learned lady, who only gave him the encouragement of declaring that "Sir Roger de Coverley was the tamest and most humane of all the brutes in the country." It is scarcely necessary to follow the disconsolate bachelor's relation of his disappointment. The following description, however, of the sheriff riding in state to the assizes will serve, with a little variation of costume, for a picture of the same scene in our own day: for who amongst our country readers has not heard the barbarous dissonance of the sheriff's trumpets, and smiled at the awkward pomp of his mighty javelin-men? "I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and resolved to follow the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors who have inhabited this spot of earth before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good neighbourhood, for the sake of my fame; and in country sports and recreations, for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and in my servants, officers, and whole equipage indulged the pleasure of a young man (who did not think ill of his own person) in taking that public occasion of showing my figure and behaviour to advantage. You may easily imagine to yourself what appearance I made, who am pretty tall, rid well, and was very well dressed, at the head of a whole county, with music before me, a feather in my hat, and my horse well bitted. I can assure you I was not a little pleased with the kind looks and glances I had from all the balconies and windows as I rode to the hall where the assizes were held. But, when I came there, a beautiful creature in a widow's habit sat in the court to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. This commanding creature (who was born for the destruction of all who beheld her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, and bore the whispers of all around the court with such a pretty uneasiness, I warrant you, and then recovered herself from one eye to another, until she was perfectly confused by meeting something so wistful in all she encountered, that at last, with a murrain to her, she cast her bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner met it but I bowed like a great surprised booby; and knowing her cause to be the first which came on, I cried, like a captivated calf as I was, "Make way for the defendant's witnesses." This sudden partiality made all the county immediately see the sheriff also was become a slave to the fine widow. During the time her cause was upon trial, she behaved herself, I warrant you, with such a deep attention to her business, took opportu |