the middle of last night, and here before daylight this morning.' And so he finished his story, ending by shouting out praises and thanksgivings to his ancestral spirit, who had saved his mother and

sisters.

NINETY YEARS AGO.

In the year 1782, Charles P. Moritz, a Prussian clergyman, spent a two months' holiday in England. A plain, sensible man, well up in English, a capital walker, a shrewd observer, he went out and about making the very best use of his time; and recorded all he saw and heard, enjoyed and suffered, in a series of letters written almost from day to day, for the amusement and edification of a friend in Berlin.

Our clerical letter-writer came to England, as all travellers should do, by way of the Thames; and, gazing on the great river crowded with ships and boats, on the soft green hills on either side, the fertile cultivated land, the green corn-fields, with their borders of living hedges, owned to himself that the shores of the Thames surpassed the banks of the Elbe as spring surpasses autumn. To avoid the tedious passage up the river, he and five other passengers took a boat to the shore, and walked to Dartford, through 'a paradisaical region,' wondering as he walked how the incomparable road had been made so firm and solid. Upon reaching the town, he beheld, for the first time, an English soldier in his red uniform, with his hair cut short, and combed back so as to afford a full view of his fine, broad, manly face; and was further gratified by the 'true English sight' of two boys boxing in the street. Here Moritz and two of his companions hired a post-chaise to take them to town; three not paying more than one would do, an indulgence allowed by act of parliament;' and thanks to the rapid succession of interesting objects On the route, reached Greenwich in a state of semistupefaction. After leaving Greenwich, the road became still busier, busier than the most frequented street in Berlin, and he was not sorry when he descried London, enveloped in a thick fog or smoke, with St Paul's rising like a huge mountain above the mass of buildings, to be amazed presently by the assemblage of contrasts and contrarieties visible from the magnificent bridge of Westminster-the majestic cathedral, the venerable abbey, the bridge of Blackfriars, the delightful terraces planted with trees, and those tasteful buildings called the Adelphi.'

Near these tasteful buildings the pastor found a home in the house of a tailor's widow, who, like Mrs Bardell, took in single gentlemen only. For sixteen shillings a week he became proprietor of two large rooms on the ground-floor, the front one furnished with mahogany tables, leather-covered chairs, carpets and mats. At first he dined at a cheap eating-house, getting a dinner of roast-meat and a salad for a shilling, and nearly half as much to the waiter. This not tallying with his notions of economy, he resolved to have all his meals at his lodgings, where, although it was June, a fire was a necessity. English cooking proved so little to his liking that he generally made but a poor dinner upon a piece of half-mashed or half-boiled meat, and cabbage-leaves boiled in plain water, and covered with a sauce of flour and water. This,' says he, as if fearing his friend's unbelief, 'I assure

you, is the usual method of dressing vegetables in England. English-made coffee he compared to so much brown water. Still he managed to live pretty well; the fine wheaten bread, excellent butter, capital Cheshire cheese, and incomparable pickled salmon, making amends for all shortcomings. The fashion of cutting bread-and-butter as thin as poppy-leaves was not to his taste; but another kind of bread-and-butter in association with tea pleased him mightily. You take one slice after the other, and hold it to the fire on a fork till the butter is melted, so that it penetrates a number of slices at once; this is called toast.' Another thing that gave him great satisfaction was the custom of sleeping without a feather-bed as covering; and when we have noted that his shoes were fetched every morning by female shoeblack, to be cleaned, we have exhauste domestic details, and may get out of doors with him.

The streets of London hardly came up to our German's expectations, the houses appearing rather gloomy than handsome; but the way in which they were paved and lighted was something quite new to his experience. The pavements, so convenient and pleasant, upon which no wheel could trench, lighted with lamps so close together as to give the idea of a festive illumination, and excuse the error of the German prince who seriously believed the blaze of light had been ordered by the authorities in honour of his arrival. The tradesmen's signs, too, were another source of wonder. 'It has a strange appearance, especially in the Strand, where there is a constant succession of shop after shop; and where, not unfrequently, people of different trades inhabit the same house, to see the doors, or the tops of the windows, or boards expressly for the purpose, all written over from top to bottom with large painted letters. Every person, of every trade or occupation, who owns ever so small a portion of a house, makes a parade with a sign at his door; and there is hardly a cobbler whose name and profession may not be read in large golden letters by every one that passes.' The inscription oftenest seen was that of Dealer in foreign spirituous liquors; the populace being so fond of brandy and gin, that in the No Popery riots more people were found dead near empty spirit-casks than were slain by the bullets of the soldiers.

Westminster Abbey and St Paul's were of course visited, the latter at a cost of a little more than a shilling in pence and halfpence. The cathedral impressed him by its immensity and bareness, but scarcely excited his admiration; while after scampering through the British Museum at the heels of a guide, all he remembered was, that he had seen a great many rooms, a great many glass cases, and a great many shelves. St James's Park was another disappointment, turning out to be nothing more than a semicircle formed of an alley of trees, inclosing a large green area and a marshy pond. The 'oft imitated, perhaps inimitable Vauxhall Gardens' pleased him better. Taking a boat from Westminster, Pastor Moritz landed at the little village of Vauxhall, paid his shilling, and entered the famous gardens; the high trees here and there, the long walks with paintings at their ends, making him fancy himself back in Berlin; a fancy strengthened by falling in with some Prussian gentlemen, among them being the secretary to the ambassador. The rotunda, with its immense mirrors, its great chandeliers, and its beautiful

Westminster election, was a very quiet affair. Still, it was exciting enough to one not to the manner born, to see the immense crowd assembled in front of the hustings, cheering the candidate, and rending the air with a shout of joy at a sight of their idol Fox. Then, as soon as the formal proceedings were over, 'the rampant spirit of a genuine English mob was exhibited in perfection. Scaffolding, benches, and chairs disappeared instanter; the hustings were wrecked; the matting torn into long slips, with which the mob encircled hundreds of people, and dragged them in triumph through the streets. The spectacle delighted the sober observer. 'Depend upon it, my friend,' wrote he, 'when you see how, in this happy country, the lowest and meanest member of society thus unequivocally testifies the interest he takes in everything of a public nature; when you see how even women and children bear a part in the great concerns of their country; in short, how high and low, rich and poor, concur in declaring their feelings and their convictions, that a carter, a common tar, or a scavenger is still a man, nay, an Englishman, and, as such, has rights and privileges, defined and known, as well as his king or his king's minister-take my word for it, you will feel yourself very differently affected from what you are when staring at our soldiers in their exercises in Berlin.' It is something new to us to learn that nearly a century ago English national authors were read by all people; but our authority says: "I have conversed with several people of the lower class, who all knew their national authors, and who all have read many, if not all of them. There is hardly any argument or dispute in conversation in the higher ranks, about which the lower cannot also converse and give their opinions.' The intelligence of the Londoners was only equalled by their cleanliness. Walking from Charing Cross to St Paul's, almost every one he met was good-looking, clean, and well dressed; not even a fellow with a wheelbarrow but wore a shirt, one, too, that had evidently been washed; nay, he did not see a beggar without a shirt, shoes, and stockings. As to the boys, he grows quite enthusiastic. What a contrast, when I figure to myself our petted, pale-faced Berlin boys at six years old, with a large bag, and all the parade of grown-up persons, nay, even with laced coats; and here I see nothing but fine, ruddy, slim, active boys, with their bosoms open, and their hair cut on the forehead, whilst behind, it flows naturally in ringlets. It is something uncommon to meet a young man, and more especially a boy, with a pale or sallow face, deformed features, or disproportioned limbs. With us, alas! the case is very much otherwise; if it were not, handsome people would hardly have struck me so very much as they do in this country?' Silent altogether regarding the ladies, he tells us that, in the morning, which did not end till four or five o'clock, gentlemen walked out 'in a frock and boots,' with their hair rolled up; but afterwards donned frocks of very dark blue, short white waistcoats, black breeches, and white silk stockings; their hair dressed and curled with irons, and half their backs covered with powder, only wanting bags and swords to be quite Frenchified. Officers were very rarely to be seen in uniform, and were only distinguishable by the cockade in

their hats.

As one of the cloth, our worthy pastor was scan

dalised at the free living of the London clergy, and records that one of them had lately fought a duel in Hyde Park and shot his man-the jury bringing in a verdict of manslaughter, and the judge sentencing him to be burned in the hand, if that may be called burning which is done with a cold iron; this being a privilege which the nobility and clergy enjoy above other murderers.' Foreigners enjoyed a privilege, too, that of not being pressed unless found in a suspicious place. He makes a strange statement relating to that method of supplying the fleet. A singular invention for this purpose of pressing is a ship placed on land not far from the Tower, furnished with masts and all the appurtenances of a ship. The persons attending this ship promise simple country folk who happen to be standing and staring at it, to shew it to them for a trifle; and as soon as they are in, they are secured as in a trap, and, according to circumstances, made sailors of or let go again." Telling of a long and pleasant walk from the very village-like little town of Paddington to Islington, he ends: 'It is true it is dangerous to walk here alone, especially in the afternoon, in the evening, or at night; for it was only last week that a man was robbed and murdered on the very same road.'

Having seen all he cared to see in London, and panting literally for fresh fields, our traveller put together some clean linen, a book of roads, a map, and Milton's Paradise Lost, and with four guineas in his pocket, took coach for Richmond, fixed upon as the starting-point of a pedestrian tour. We do not intend to follow him from place to place; suffice it to state that he visited Stratford-on-Avon, Oxford, Birmingham, Lichfield, Burton-where the people standing at their doors hissed at him as he passed-Derby, Matlock, Nottingham, and Leicester. The scenery charmed him; the short miles, the milestones, the direction-posts won his thanks, and he was particularly struck by the novelty of being able to walk unchallenged through fine English towns, environed by no walls, barred by no gates, guarded by no soldiers, unvexed by demands for a passport, and untroubled by examiners of luggage. One thing, however, marred all the pleasantness of the journey-no one believed in walking gentlemen. Wherever he went, he found himself stared at, pointed at, at the best pitied, as a poor travelling creature. Had this been all, he might have borne it with equanimity, but the prejudice against a man who chose to use his own legs, rendered the obtaining a night's lodging a matter of difficulty. At Windsor he was allowed to sleep at an inn for one night only, but while they allowed him to pay like a gentleman, they treated him as if he were a beggar, and the waiter at parting gave him the heartiest malediction he had yet heard. As he travelled on, innkeeper after innkeeper denied him a bed, and although he persevered until he reached Leicester, he determined to return to London by coach. Accordingly, he took an outside place from Leicester to Northampton. It was the first time our pastor had ever travelled outside, and it was not long before he firmly resolved it should be the last. The getting up was at the risk of one's life; and when I was up, I was obliged to sit just at the corner of the coach, with nothing to hold by but a sort of little handle fastened on the side. I sat nearest the wheel, and the moment we set off, fancied I saw certain death awaiting me. The machine rolled

along with prodigious rapidity over the stones, and every moment we seemed to fly into the air. At last, as we were going up a hill, I crept from the top, and got snug in the basket. Easy and pleasant as we went up hill, I almost fell asleep among the trunks and packages; but the case was altered when we came to go down hill; all the trunks and parcels began to dance round and round, everything in the basket seemed to be alive and bent upon beating me. I thought my last hour was come.' This he had to bear for nearly an hour, till the coach came to another hill, when he crept out of the basket a sorer and a wiser man.

Such was stage-coach travelling in England ninety years ago, when, the roads being bad, the jolting was frightful, and occasionally varied with an overturn and other by no means pleasant adventures, of which we have now but a faint conception.

HIS OWN EXECUTOR.
CHAPTER XIX.-PROCURING EVIDENCE.

By the time Porkington had finished his search at Peel's Coffee-house, it was well on into the afternoon; and it was necessary that he should finish the job he had in hand before the day was over. Delay could not help him, whilst a vigorous initiative might carry him over half his difficulties. This night, he must post a letter to Costicle and Costicle, giving them particulars of the date and place of his marriage.

It was necessary, then, that he should visit St Cuthbert's at once; but it was equally indispensable that he should disguise himself, so as not to be recognised by any of the officials of the church. It was possible enough that Costicle himself might be the guardian of the register. In that case, his task would be a difficult one. But his scheme was all the more likely to succeed for its boldness.

As to his disguise-fortunately, he had never given way to the modern practice of wearing a beard and moustache; his face was always smooth and clean shaven; a false beard and moustache would therefore effectually disguise his features. His thin, closely cut hair would easily bear upon it a wig. He could obtain these articles at some theatrical wardrobe-shop, where he could easily assign as a reason for his proposed disguise that he was organising private theatricals. He knew of such a shop in one of the dingy, shabby streets leading out of the Haymarket, and thither he made his way as quickly as possible.

He had no difficulty here; he was soon equipped with a beard and moustache that gave his face an appearance almost apostolic in its expression of fervour and earnestness. A broad-brimmed, highcrowned felt hat he bought at an adjoining shop, completed the upper part of his disguise; and a heavy cloak, with a velvet collar and tassels, which he hired from an old clothes-man, effectually concealed all his ordinary costume, whilst it was not out of character with the patriarchal appearance he had assumed. He took his properties back to his hotel, and then carefully dressed himself for

the part he had to play. A sharp penknife, and a bottle of ink, and another small bottle of water, to reduce the colour of the ink, if necessary, completed his equipment.

His heart beat somewhat fast as he, at about half-past five o'clock, knocked at the door of the sexton's house in St Cuthbert's Lane. He did not fail to realise that his enterprise was a perilous one; that it might bring him to the dock as a felon, but he accepted the alternative unshrinkingly; an old age of dishonoured poverty would be as bad a fate as death in a convict prison. Sally opened the door.

'My dear,' said Porkington, 'I want the clerkthe person, whoever it is, who keeps the parish register.

Ah, that's the parish clerk,' said Sally, 'Mr Sinkall; you must go and ask him to come with you. He keeps the little newspaper shop round the

corner.'

'My dear,' said Porkington, 'I am old and infirm; suppose that you let me sit down, and that you send a messenger for the parish clerk. I'll give him a shilling.'

'I'll run myself,' said Sally, having taken the shilling. Such small sums were perquisites of office she was not above receiving.

'Will you walk into the church, sir, and sit down whilst I am gone?'

Porkington followed Sally through the narrow passage and under the high stone arch into the church, and seated himself wearily on a bench. There was no histrionic talent required for this, for he really was faint and weary with unaccustomed toil. The moment, however, Sally had left him he started from the seat, and made his way to the vestry, the door of which opened from the south aisle of the church in a narrow stone archway. It was a comfortable room; a good fire was burning in the grate. In the corner hung a surplice and black silk gown. The centre of the room was occupied by a writing-table, on which were a blotting-pad and an inkstand. In a corner, in an arched recess in the wall, was a wooden cupboard of some size, having a stout oaken door, which was closed, but in the back of the cupboard hung a bunch of keys.

Luck on my side!' cried Porkington, as he ran to the cupboard door and opened it. Yes, there were the registers all in a row-very neatly labelled with leather labels, printed in gold, Births, Marriages, Deaths, and with the several periods to which they referred marked outside in ink.

the

Porkington didn't hurry; he could not be interrupted except by some one coming through the church, the echo of whose footsteps on sounding stone floor would give him ample warning. He took down the book leisurely, and turned, without undue haste, to the precise date of the entry he had noted from the newspaper; then he carefully scanned this entry, to see what it was he had to accomplish.

The register was of a pale blue paper, with watermarked lines running down and across it, and the entry ran thus:

Rank or Profession.

Grocer

Signature of Officiating Clergyman, A. P. Lounds.