upon his return from France, whither he had gone on a mission from the non-juring Bishops to King James II., he was consecrated Suffragan Bishop of Thetford, by Bishops Lloyd, White, and Turner.

1736. June 22. Frances Whate.

She was a charwoman in the Church. "But the singularity of the circumstance is," says Malcolm, "that she should have been interred before the altar, which she thus accomplished. In the course of her pursuits, she was observed to be assiduous, and remarkably industrious, and often asked for charitable assistance. This she frequently received, and so carefully preserved her secret that her sister gained a bequest of £1,150. on the easy condition of procuring a grave for her body within the Church, and affording it a handsome funeral. The above sum had been concealed in various hiding-places contrived in her chamber."

1807. Feb. 14. John Read.

This eccentric gentleman earned the nickname of the "Walking Rushlight" by those who constantly met him in his invariably solitary walk to Kensington or the Bank. He was the oldest General in the service, and Colonel of the 88th Regiment. The Musical Professorship at Edinburgh was founded by him; and he composed several fine military marches.

The Registers of this eminent parish form a large obituary of members of noble and illustrious families, prelates, and relatives of distinguished persons, with a lengthy chronicle of their marriages and baptisms, which would furnish matter for a separate volume. Baptisms frequently occur in which Majesty condescended to become the God-parent of the little infant brought to the holy font.

Within this Church have been christened children of the infamous Titus Oates, Judge Jeffreys, and the well-known Bishop Burnet, author of the "Pastoral Care." Here Jeremy Bentham, the political and juridical writer, who died in Queen-square-place, was married to his wife; and here was also celebrated the first wedding of the father of the great and good Bishop Heber, who will ever be remembered with admiration in his University, and has left an imperishable name, in the record of missionary enterprise, of one who gave up, in the prime of life, intellect, and hope, the most brilliant prospects in his native land for a foreign country, to die in the

glorious cause of spreading that kingdom, the advent of which he had chosen as his immortal theme in early youth, and, lost in adoration of its glory, having escaped from the congratulations of an audience and friends inspired by his eloquence, upon the great day of the triumph of "Palestine," was found kneeling in prayer amid the calm of his closed collegechamber.

It were indeed to be wished that we could promise a period when an end would be set to the dangerous practice of burying the departed in over-crowded churchyards in cities, in the centre of a densely-peopled neighbourhood, in situations where the air is necessarily confined and cannot freely circulate, and, from the exposed position and the din and bustle of the great tide of population flowing by, the last solemn rites of religion are too often painfully interrupted or rendered inaudible, and the feelings of sad mourners unavoidably shocked. The visible inconvenience of the present system cannot escape notice. Other arguments readily suggest themselves, from public reason and public interest, to induce the prohibition of any future intramural interments. Gladly would the inhabitants of Westminster, as we believe, hail the day when an Act of this nature was passed; and the Churchyard of St. Margaret's-no longer a thoroughfare and playground for thoughtless children—should be laid with green turf, and, girt in with trees, be left sacred and untrodden, the seemly resting-place of many dead, and the first example of a wise reform. The gentle "poet of the mountains and the lakes" must answer any objections that shall possibly be raised.

Seems, if such freedom may be used with you,
To say that you are heedless of the past:
An orphan could not find his mother's grave;
Here's neither head nor foot stone, plate of brass,
Cross bones nor skull, type of our earthly state,
Nor emblem of our hopes; the dead man's home

Is but a fellow to that pasture-field.

Priest. Why there, Sir, is a thought that's new to me;
The stone-cutters, 'tis true, might beg their bread

If every English churchyard were like ours.

Yet your conclusion wanders from the truth:

We have no need of names and epitaphs;
We talk about the dead at our firesides.
And then for our immortal part! we want
No symbols, Sir, to tell us that plain tale."

THE BROTHERS.

Then might we also anticipate that, when the Commons of this realm assemble in that gorgeous Palace, (which, when complete, will be the noblest civic building of Europe, and suited to the importance and dignity of their deliberations,) and the nobles of the Upper House go up to worship in the Abbey so wondrously fair and beautiful, they will feel a righteous jealousy for the honour of the Sanctuary, and make the exterior of St. Margaret's also-now in melancholy contrast-indeed appear an object of their care and beneficence, as no degenerate sons of munificent fathers, conscious that within its hallowed walls they assemble especially to seek from the LORD a counsel which cannot err.

The Church of St. Margaret stands the lonely survivor out of the many monastic buildings above which the Abbey once rose, glowing like polished porphyry in the noonday sun, -dormitories, refectories, gates, almonries, sanctuary, belfries, horse-mills, bakeries, brew-houses, granaries. So it has come to appear a modern excrescence, and not an ancient adjunct coeval in foundation with the Abbey.

The Commissioners, who superintended the great improvements made in the commencement of the present century, while they commented even then upon "the area of the present churchyard being already disproportionately small, in comparison with the size and populousness of the parish," and the necessity of the co-operation of Parliament in order to provide another cemetery, suggested also that such "changes should be made in the outer appearance of the Church as may be thought most conducive to producing a better effect with respect to the surrounding buildings."

There could not be devised a nobler work for Mr. Barry than to render the exterior of St. Margaret's the silent but emphatic rebuke of those who, from want of reflection, suggest its demolition,—not weighing those necessarily attendant con

sequences, the desecration of the sleeping remains, and the sundering of old ties and associations most harrowing to the feelings of those who love their Parish Church. No other hands could better show that "the King's daughter, all glorious within," should have "a clothing of wrought gold," -no other architect, full of years and honour, we trust, more justly claim in Westminster the epitaph, "Si quæris monumentum, circumspice,"-" If you look for his monument, look around you."

CHAPTER V.

The College of St. Peter, Westminster.

"As he returned from Winchester College, he said to a friend, 'My now being in that school, and seeing that very place where I sat when I was a boy, occasioned me to remember those very thoughts of my youth which then possessed me: sweet thoughts, indeed, that promised my growing years numerous pleasures, without mixtures of cares; and those to be enjoyed when Time-which I therefore thought slowpaced-had changed my youth into manhood. I saw there a succession of boys using the same recreations, and, questionless, possessed with the same thoughts that then possessed me. Thus one generation succeeds another, both in their lives, recreations, hopes, fears, and death.""

THE LIFE OF SIR HENRY WOTTON, WRITTEN BY IZAAK WALTON.

"En Patriam Populumque."

(PRESENT MOTTO.)

HE ancient College of St. Peter in Westminster has not that spirit of a lettered calm which breathes from the time-honoured courts which cluster round Wykeham's tall grey tower, glassed in every stream that runs amid the willow-fringed water-meads in the vale of the silver Itchen; nor has it the sequestered beauty of the "distant spires, the antique towers," which meet the eye of

those that

"From the stately brow

Of Windsor's heights, th' expanse below

Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey."

The present Foundation suffers some disadvantage by a date later by a century than the younger of the sister-schools of Winchester and Eton; and yet this eminent seminary of