With the aid of Murray here and there, the following may be mentioned as a few such points in London, touched by the presence of great men and events. In the neighborhood of the Islington suburb, was the scene of Suetonius' victory over Boadicea, in which 80,000 Britons were slain. Where "Barclay's Brewery " in Southwark stands, the "Globe Theatre" stood, and Master William Shakspeare played his own dramas and "suited the action to the word." At this spot also General Haynau was well drubbed by the sturdy brewers. In Bethnall Green, still live the descendants of the French silk-weavers who fled to England after the massacre of St. Bartholomew. Milton's father resided in Bread Street, Cheapside; and in this street the poet was born. He was a true Cockney born within the "sound of Bow Bells." The same Cheapside" it is, whose stones did rattle with the "chaise and four," and the precious burden of— 66 "My sister and my sister's child, At Cheapside, Tyndale's English translation of the Bible was burned in 1526. Goldsmith died at No. 2 Brick Court Temple. Benjamin Franklin lived at No. 7 Craven Street, Strand. Handel lived in Piccadilly. In King Street, Edmund Spenser died for lack of bread." Here also Louis Napoleon lived when he acted policeman; and rumor says, he believes it is his destiny to die at Cheapside. Lord Byron was born in a boarding-house on Cavendish Square. Samuel Rogers' house was No. 22 St. James Place. William Turner was born in 1775 at 26 Maiden Lane, near Covent Garden. In the Inns of Temple Court, the memories of Goldsmith, Johnson, Mansfield, Eldon, are still. fresh. In Whitehall Chapel one sees the window out of which Charles I. stepped to his execution. In the centre of Lincoln's Inn Fields, Lord William Russell was beheaded. Every one knows of that vast cemetery of Bunhill Fields near Finsbury Square, where the best genius and piety of the old dissenters found rest from their labors. In Smithfield Market the martyrs of the Marian persecution were burned, and William Wallace was beheaded. Here also King Richard III. had his encounter with Wat Tyler. Would one ask for the burial-place of Cromwell? His body was disinterred and burned under Tyburn gallows, in the new part of London now called "Tyburnia," and the most aristocratic portion of the city. On Temple Bar, which must soon come down like a rock in the middle of a busy river, the heads of traitors were hung. At Guildhall one may still see "Gog and Magog" in all their bearded majesty, in spite of Mr. Punch. One of the most intensely interesting places in London is Christ's Hospital, founded by pious Edward VI. for fatherless children and foundlings. This is the famous "Blue Coat School." I was told that there were eight hundred now belonging to the school. Here Stillingfleet, Richardson, Lamb, Leigh Hunt, and “the inspired charity boy," Coleridge, went to school. A frisky herd of boys just let out careered through the yard in front of the hall bare-headed, many of them with their long blue coats tied up around them in front, and their spindle shanks and yellow stockings making a great display. - I visited a spot where the memory of one "gentle spirit still lingers, and makes the most unromantic place in the world attractive. Set down in front of a sombre row of columns, and a low dingy pile of buildings, one could hardly conceive that this was the seat of that company of merchants who once ruled a vast empire with absolute sway, - the East India House in Leadenhall Street. An apartment up one flight of stairs toward the back of the building, was where Charles Lamb used to write. There I was introduced to a courteous white-haired gentleman, who told me (though I know nothing more of him) that he was a fellow-clerk with Lamb, and occupied the next desk to his. He showed the place where Lamb's desk stood, under a window which looked out on the blank brick wall of a house. He spoke of him whom he was proud to call a friend, with enthusiasm. He said he was the best-hearted man in the world. Sometimes he would say to him, "Now you, who live in the country, go and spend a day at home with your family, and I will take care of your books." He had tremendous fits of work, and would accomplish three men's tasks in a day. At other times he would keep them all merry with his stories, and fill his pages with the oddest scrawls and etchings. This called to mind Lamb's boyish delight, which he speaks of in one of his letters, when he had learned to make "flourishes" and (poor Elia) "corkscrews, the best he ever drew." Among other pleasant things and sayings which this old gentleman related, I recall but this: "One day a wealthy London merchant was ushered into the room, and introduced to Lamb as Mr. So-and-So, a distinguished spice merchant.' 'Oh yes,' said Lamb, quick as lightning, 'I'm happy to see you, sir; I smelt you coming.' 999 The India House Library forms a rich and splendid collection of some 24,000 Oriental works, 8000 of these being still in manuscript. Among them is the famous "Koran," copied on vellum by the Caliph Othman III. A. D. 655. Let us now turn to quite another theme and quarter of the city, and glance at the English "House of Commons." Ascending the noble staircase leading up from old Westminster Hall," one passes into an avenue or corridor, connecting with the new "Houses of Parliament." This superb avenue is called "St. Stephen's Hall." Along its sides are ranged fulllength statues of Hampden, Falkland, Selden, Chatham, Burke, Pitt, Fox, and others of the great Commoners of England. This hall leads into a vestibule highly decorated and gilded, by which one enters immediately into the "House of Commons" on the one side, and the "House of Lords" on the other. Let us enter the House of Commons. We go up a flight of stairs, and seat ourselves in what is named the "Reporters' Gallery." Opposite us are the reporters' desks, at which you see anxious-looking men seated, who, after writing a little time with intense application, get up and go out, being relieved of their severe toil by others. The House of Commons is almost as gorgeous as wrought gold, fine brass, oak-wood carving, rich frescoes, and stained-glass windows can make it. I say "almost," for the House of Lords, though of the same general architectural character, is still more elaborate in its finish and ornament. It blazes in crimson and gold. After having looked around and above, and sated our eyes with richness, and studied out the Tudor rose and portcullis ornaments, and other historic emblems, then look down and see what this magnificent house of the gods contains. Are they gods or men? They are truly but men; and they are men who all wear their hats on as at a Quaker meeting. But it is no Quaker meeting; for the spirit of heavenly repose which broods over the assemblies of the saints, is not surely here. There is an anxious, angry, almost fierce spirit of debate and conflict. The only unexcited countenance is that of the Speaker, who, profoundly buried in his big gray wig, sits imperturbable as a machine, or rises at long intervals to put a vote in the shortest and driest manner. It is odd to see the quiet, matter-of-fact way in which vast money-bills are voted upon and disposed of in the English Parliament. I heard money |