Lucy. The king we had selected; | Melusina, come, my honest Sophia,

the courtiers who came in his train; the English nobles who came to welcome him, and on many of whom the shrewd old cynic turned his back I protest it is a wonderful satirical picture. I am a citizen waiting at Greenwich pier, say, and crying hurrah for King George; and yet I can scarcely keep my countenance, and help laughing at the enormous absurdity of this advent!

let us go into my private room, and have some oysters and some Rhine wine, and some pipes afterwards: et us make the best of our situation; let us take what we can get, and leave these bawling, brawling, lying English to shout, and fight, and cheat, in their own way!"

If Swift had not been committed to the statesmen of the losing side, what a fine satirical picture we might have had of that general sauve qui peut amongst the Tory party! How mum the Tories became; how the House of Lords and House of Commons chopped round; and how decorously the majorities welcomed King George!

Here we are, all on our knees. Here is the Archbishop of Canterbury prostrating himself to the head of his church, with Kielmansegge and Schulenberg with their ruddled cheeks grinning behind the defender of the faith. Here is my Lord Duke of Marlborough kneeling too, the great- Bolingbroke, making his last est warrior of all times; he who be- speech in the House of Lords, pointed trayed King William-betrayed out the shame of the peerage, where King James II. betrayed Queen several lords concurred to condemn in Anne betrayed England to the one general vote all that they had apFrench, the Elector to the Pretender, proved in former parliaments by many the Pretender to the Elector; and particular resolutions. And so their here are my Lords Oxford and Boling- conduct was shameful. St. John had broke, the latter of whom has just the best of the argument, but the tripped up the heels of the former; worst of the vote. Bad times were and if a month's more time had been come for him. He talked philosophy, allowed him, would have had King and professed innocence. He courted James at Westminster. The great retirement, and was ready to meet Whig gentlemen made their bows persecution; but, hearing that honest and congées with proper decorum and Mat Prior, who had been recalled ceremony; but yonder keen old from Paris, was about to preach reschemer knows the value of their loy-garding the past transactions, the alty. "Loyalty," he must think, "as applied to me it is absurd! There are fifty nearer heirs to the throne than I am. I am but an accident, and you fine Whig gentlemen take me for your own sake, not for mine. You Tories hate me; you archbishop, smirking on your knees, and prating about Heaven, you know I don't care a fig for your Thirty-nine Articles, and can't understand a word of your stupid sermons. You, my Lords Bolingbroke and Oxford-you know you were conspiring against me a month ago; and you, my Lord Duke of Marlborough-you would sell me or any man else, if you found your advantage in it. Come, my good

philosopher bolted, and took that
magnificent head of his out of the
ugly reach of the axe. Oxford, the
lazy and good-humored, had more
courage, and awaited the storm at
home. He and Mat Prior both had
lodgings in the Tower, and both
brought their heads safe out of that
dangerous menagerie. When Atter-
bury was carried off to the same den
a few years afterwards, and it was
asked, what next should be done with
him? "Done with him? Fling him
to the lions,"
to the lions," Cadogan said, Marlbor-
ough's lieutenant. But the British lion
of those days did not care much for
drinking the blood of peaceful peers
and poets, or crunching the bones of

bishops. Only four men were executed in London for the rebellion of 1715; and twenty-two in Lancashire. Above a thousand taken in arms, submitted to the King's mercy, and petitioned to be transported to his Majesty's colonies in Âmerica. I have heard that their descendants took the loyalist side in the disputes which arose sixty years after. It is pleasant to find that a friend of ours, worthy Dick Steele, was for letting off the rebels with their lives.

As one thinks of what might have been, how amusing the speculation is ! We know how the doomed Scottish gentlemen came out at Lord Mar's summons, mounted the white cockade, that has been a flower of sad poetry ever since, and rallied round the ill-omened Stuart standard at Braemar. Mar, with 8,000 men, and but 1,500 opposed to him, might have driven the enemy over the Tweed, and taken possession of the whole of Scotland; but that the Pretender's Duke | did not venture to move when the day was his own. Edinburgh Castle might have been in King James's hands; but that the men who were to escalade it staid to drink his health at the tavern, and arrived two hours too late at the rendezvous under the castle wall. There was sympathy enough in the town the projected attack

are off via Harwich and Helvoetsluys, for dear old Deutschland. The King

God save him!-lands at Dover, with tumultuous applause; shouting multitudes, roaring cannon, the Duke of Marlborough weeping tears of joy, and all the bishops kneeling in the mud. In a few years, mass is said in St. Paul's; matins and vespers are sung in York Minster; and Dr. Swift is turned out of his stall and deanery house at St. Patrick's, to give place to Father Dominic, from Salamanca. All these changes were possible then, and once thirty years afterwards all this we might have had, but for the pulveris exigui jactu, that little toss of powder for the hair which the Scotch conspirators stopped to take at the tavern.

You understand the distinction I would draw between history of which I do not aspire to be an expounder — and manners and life such as these sketches would describe. The rebellion breaks out in the north; its story is before you in a hundred volumes, in none more fairly than in the excellent narrative of Lord Mahon. The clans are up in Scotland; Derwentwater, Nithsdale and Forster are in arms in Northumberland these are matters of history, for which you are referred to the due chroniclers. The Guards are set to watch the seems to have been known there strects, and prevent the people wearLord Mahon quotes Sinclair's accounting white roses. I read presently of a of a gentleman not concerned, who couple of soldiers almost flogged to told Sinclair, that he was in a house death for wearing oakboughs in their that evening where eighteen of them hats on" the 29th of May another were drinking, as the facetious land- badge of the beloved Stuarts. It is lady said, powdering their hair," with these we have to do, rather than for the attack on the castle. Suppose the marches and battles of the armies they had not stopped to powder their to which the poor fellows belonged hair? Edinburgh Castle, and town, with statesmen, and how they looked, and all Scotland were King James's. and how they lived, rather than with The north of England rises, and measures of State, which belong to marches over Barnet Heath upon history alone. For example, at the London. Wyndham is up in Somer- close of the old Queen's reign, it is setshire; Packington in Worcester-known the Duke of Marlborough left shire; and Vivian in Cornwall. The Elector of Hanover, and his hideous mistresses, pack up the plate, and perhaps the crown jewels in London, and

the kingdom after what menaces, after what prayers, lies, bribes offered, taken, refused, accepted; after what dark doubling and tacking, let his

tory, if she can or dare, say. The old hostel in Ludgate Hill, the "Belle Queen dead; who so eager to return Sauvage" to whom the "Spectator as my lord duke? Who shouts God so pleasantly alludes in that paper; save the King! so lustily as the great and who was, probably, no other conqueror of Blenheim and Malpla- than the sweet Ainerican Pocahontas, quet? (By the way, he will send who rescued from death the daring over some more money for the Pre- Captain Smith. There is the "Lion's tender yet, on the sly.) Who lays Head," down whose jaws the "Spechis hand on his blue ribbon, and lifts tator's own letters were passed; and his eyes more gracefully to heaven over a great banker's in Fleet Street, than this hero? He makes a quasi- the effigy of the wallet, which the triumphal entrance into London, by founder of the firm bore when he came Temple Bar, in his enormous gilt into London a country boy. People coach and the enormous gilt coach this street, so ornamented, with breaks down somewhere by Chancery crowds of swinging chairmen, with Lane, and his highness is obliged to servants bawling to clear the way, get another. There it is we have Mr. Dean in his cassock, his lackey him. We are with the mob in the marching before him; or Mrs. Dinah crowd, not with the great folks in in her sack, tripping to chapel, her the procession. We are not the His-footboy carrying her ladyship's great toric Muse, but her ladyship's attendant, tale-bearer valet de chambre for whom no man is a hero; and, as yonder one steps from his carriage to the next handy conveyance, we take the number of the hack; we look all over at his stars, ribbons, embroidery; we think within ourselves, O you unfathomable schemer! O you warrior invincible! O you beautiful smiling Judas! What master would you not kiss or betray? What traitor's head, blackening on the spikes on yonder gate, ever hatched a tithe of the treason which has worked under your periwig?

We have brought our Georges to London city, and if we would behold its aspect, may see it in Hogarth's lively perspective of Cheapside, or read of it in a hundred contemporary books which paint the manners of that age. Our dear old "Spectator" looks smiling upon the streets, with their innumerable signs, and describes them with his charming humor. "Our streets are filled with Blue Boars, Black Swans, and Red Lions, not to mention Flying Pigs and Hogs in Armor, with other creatures more extraordinary than any in the deserts of Africa." A few of these quaint old figures still remain in London town. You may still sce there, and over its

prayer-book; with itinerant trades-
men, singing their hundred cries (I
remember forty years ago, as boy in
London city, a score of cheery, famil-
iar cries that are silent now). Fancy
the beaux thronging to the chocolate-
houses, tapping their snuff-boxes as
they issue thence, their periwigs ap-
pearing over the red curtains. Fancy
Saccharissa, beckoning and smiling
from the upper windows, and a crowd
of soldiers brawling and bustling at
the door- gentlemen of the Life
Guards, clad in scarlet, with bluc
facings, and laced with gold at the
scams; gentlemen of the Horse Gren-
adiers, in their caps of sky-blue cloth,
with the garter embroidered on the
front in gold and silver; men of the
Halberdiers, in their long red coats,
as bluff Harry left them, with their
ruff and velvet flat caps. Perhaps the
King's Majesty himself is going to
St. James's as we pass. If he is going
to Parliament, he is in his coach-and-
eight, surrounded by his guards and
the high officers of his crown. Other-
wise his Majesty only uses a chair,
with six footmen walking before, and
six yeomen of the guard at the sides
of the sedan. The officers in waiting
follow the King in coaches. It must
be rather slow work.
Our "

Spectator" and "Tatler"

are full of delightful glimpses of the of people at every hour of the day, town life of those days. In the com- but especially at morning and evenpany of that charming guide, we may ing, when their Majesties often walk go to the opera, the comedy, the pup- with the royal family, who are atpet-show, the auction, even the cock- tended only by a half-dozen yeomen pit: we can take boat at Temple of the guard, and permit all persons Stairs, and accompany Sir Roger de to walk at the same time with them. Coverley and Mr. Spectator to Spring The ladies and gentlemen always Garden- it will be called Vauxhall appear in rich dresses, for the English, a few years hence, when Hogarth will who, twenty years ago, did not wear paint for it. Would you not like to gold lace but in their army, are now step back into the past, and be intro- embroidered and bedaubed as much duced to Mr. Addison? not the as the French. I speak of persons Right Honorable Joseph Addison, of quality; for the citizen still conEsq., George I.'s Secretary of State, tents himself with a suit of fine cloth, but to the delightful painter of con- a good hat and wig, and fine linen. temporary manners; the man who, Everybody is well clothed here, and when in good-humor himself, was the even the beggars don't make so pleasantest companion in all Eng- ragged an appearance as they do elscland. I should like to go into Lockit's where." After our friend, the man with him, and drink a bowl along of quality, has had his morning or unwith Sir R. Steele (who has just been dress walk in the Mall, he goes home knighted by King George, and who to dress, and then saunters to some does not happen to have any money coffee-house or chocolate-house freto pay his share of the reckoning). quented by the persons he would see. I should not care to follow Mr. Ad-For 'tis a rule with the English to dison to his secretary's office in Whitehall. There we get into politics. Our business is pleasure, and the town, and the coffee-house, and the theatre, and the Mall. Delightful Spectator! kind friend of leisure hours! happy companion! true Christian gentleman! How much greater, better, you are than the King Mr. Secretary kneels to!

go once a day at least to houses of this sort, where they talk of business and news, read the papers, and often look at one another without opening their lips. Delightful their lips. And 'tis very well they are so mute: for were they all as talkative as people of other nations, the coffee-houses would be intolerable, and there would be no hearing what one man said where they are so many The chocolate-house in St. James's Street, where I go every morning to pass away the time, is always so full that a man can scarce turn about in it."

You can have foreign testimony about old-world London, if you like; and my before-quoted friend, Charles Louis, Baron de Pöllnitz, will conduct us to it. "A man of sense," says he, or a fine gentleman, is never at a loss for company in London, and this is the way the latter passes his time. He rises late, puts on a frock, and, leaving his sword at home, takes his cane, and goes where he pleases. The park is commonly the place where he walks, because 'tis the Exchange for men of quality. 'Tis the same thing as the Tuileries at Paris, only the park has a certain beauty of simplicity which cannot be described. The Trand walk is called the Mall; is full

Delightful as London city was, King George I. liked to be out of it as much as ever he could; and when there, passed all his time with his Germans. It was with them as with Blucher, 100 years afterwards, when the bold old Reiter looked down from St. Paul's, and sighed out, Was für Plunder!” The German women plundered; the German secretaries plundered; the German cooks and intendants plundered; even Mustapha and Mahomet, the German negroes,