patience was not a little tried by the manner in which he supported the conversation, till, at length, half-pettishly and half-goodhumouredly he said, rising from his chair, "Upon my word, I begin to think the accident of this morning has been more serious to Mr. Welsh, Charles, than you have represented."

This remark scarcely aggravated the painful feelings that were warring in the breast of Henry, but he was thankful to be allowed to follow the train of his own reflections without interruption. In a short time afterwards, a servant opened the door at the end of the room where, in the adjoining apartment, the household were assembled for evening prayers. Lord Elsdale led the way, followed by Henry, who took his accustomed place. All knelt reverently around him. His voice, naturally distinct and sweet, was at first low and unsteady, but it quickly recovered its clearness, and became as firm as usual. He had read the same prayer frequently, and always impressively; this evening many sentences in it struck on his feelings with peculiar force; and as he besought the Divine blessing on the head of that house, and all its members, his heart formed the resolution of being the last to disturb its peace.

The next morning he acquainted Lord Elsdale with his intention of resigning his charge. His lordship heard him at first with equal surprise and regret, and then, as he expected, with displeasure. Too proud, however, to repeat the remonstrance that had escaped him, and too much offended to inquire into the motives that had led him to this determination, he merely said— As you please, Mr. Welsh; I have no desire to interfere with your arrangements. As soon as I have provided my sons with a

successor

"And I will not leave you, my lord, till you have," said Henry, prompted by the feeling of the moment.

The features of Lord Elsdale relaxed from their severity, and the wonted expression of kindness that followed, added another pang to the already aching heart of the young man. What effect the intelligence of his being about to quit Woodville had upon Miss Mansell he neither knew nor desired to know; but, if he might judge from what every other member of the family expressed, it must have been heard with pain. It was a trial sufficient to him when, a few days before his departure, she came into the study to ask for a volume she required. Henry instantly rose to reach it from the shelf.

"Oh, Lucy!" exclaimed James, "you are come at the right moment; we are trying to persuade Mr. Welsh to remain with us.

Lend us your aid."

"Do, do!" cried her younger brother,

Arthur, "he will not refuse you, if you ask him to stay."

Lucy blushed. "Perhaps," said she, seeing that an answer must be given, "Mr. Welsh has not quite made up his mind to leave us."

"Indeed I have," replied he.

"Is it wise to do so?" said she.

"Very, very wise," returned he;" at least, I think, I hope, it is." "There now!" cried Arthur, for James was silent; "that sigh says you are sorry to go. Try, Lucy, try what you can do. Now, Mr. Welsh, if Lucy requests you to stay, will you promise-stop, stop, Lucy!"

But Lucy had abruptly left the room. Arthur would have caught hold of her, but she had closed the door, and her swift footsteps were heard along the passage. It was with difficulty that Henry could suppress a second and a heavier sigh. In this, however, he succeeded; but he felt grateful that it was only in the presence of the whole family that he saw her again.

Lord Elsdale took leave of him with a regret which, in spite of his wish, betrayed itself through his assumed coolness; his pupils with the warmest expressions of sorrow; Lucy shook hands with him, wished him well, and they parted in silence on the side of Henry. He sprang upon the horse, which the groom was holding at the entrance, and rode quickly through the park, at the bottom of which ran the main road. A servant with his luggage was already at the gate. He dismounted, and, desiring the man to return, awaited the arrival of the coach. He was alone-he was unhappy-but he breathed freely, and a load was removed from his breast.

"I have done my duty," sighed he, looking towards the mansion, of which a partial view was to be obtained; "my conscience is so far clear, and I am thankful."

He continued to pace backwards and forwards by the gate with some degree of impatience. May one more worthy than I be

her guide-her-"

66

The sound of wheels was heard rapidly approaching; a blast from the horn of the guard gave signal "to be ready," and the whirl of the coachman's whip was soon followed by the drawing of his horses as he neared the park-gate. The luggage was quickly deposited in the hind-boot, and Henry, seated beside Nichols, the well-known driver of the "Perseverance," was soon some miles distant from Woodville.

up

His first destination was Normanton, where he was received by his father and sisters with the utmost tenderness, though not with their usual happiness. There had always been a perfect understanding between him and his father, and he was above the most distant approach to deceit. As it was necessary, therefore, to account for the step he had taken, he intimated, as concisely and as delicately as it was possible, the real cause of his quitting Woodville. Mr. Welsh showed by his countenance, more than by his words, the pain that his son's communication gave him. For a few minutes after Henry had finished, he was silent; then, catching the eye that was anxiously bent on him, he said

"You have done right; there is but one path which can ultimately lead to happiness, even in this life,-the path of integrity, of honour, and gratitude."

ANCIENT LONDON.-No. I.

THE Anglo-Saxon dominion ended with the death of Harold, on the sanguinary field of Senlac, about six centuries after its introduction by the treachery of Hengist. Edwin Earl of Northumberland, and Morcar Earl of Mercia, hastened from the disastrous fight to London, where they proposed to the citizens the expedient of attempting to oppose the pretensions of the Conqueror, by setting up Edgar Atheling, the feeble-minded grandson of Edmund Ironsides, as king, and he was proclaimed accordingly.

The Conqueror, apprised of the resolution of the citizens to maintain London in behalf of the Saxon dynasty, advanced with his forces to Southwark, where the Londoners sallied forth, butwere repulsed with great loss by five hundred of the Norman horsemen.

William, finding the citizens obstinately opposed to him, and deeming it inexpedient to undertake the siege of London in the winter season, marched westward, leaving Southwark in ashes, and sat down at Berkhampstead, where Atheling was among the first to meet him and tender his submission. The consecrated banner given by the Pope to William served as a rallying point, not only to the Norman chivalry, but to the clergy generally, but for whose support it is probable the invader might have found himself unable to maintain his new footing.

Under this ecclesiastical influence the Londoners were induced to forsake the councils of the two patriotic earls and their newlychosen king, and to open their gates to the Norman, an example

VOL. II.

which was speedily observed by the country generally. Before trusting himself within the walls of London, the Conqueror took the precaution of throwing up a fortress on the site of the Tower, as a garrison for his Norman troops, in order to overawe his new subjects the citizens. This was effected in the year 1066. Twelve years afterwards the citadel, or White Tower, whose walls still remain as firm as the rock from whence they were quarried, was commenced by the eminent military architect Gundulph, Bishop of Rochester.*

This massive stronghold consists of three lofty stories, underneath which is a series of vaults. The first floor is divided into three apartments, two of which appear to have been designed for prisons, and the third, which ends in a semicircle, may have served the purpose of an oratory. Two large chambers lie over these, and above them is the chapel of St. John, a solemn vaulted edifice of three aisles, supported on either side by five cylindrical pillars, the square faces of the capitals being ornamented with a cross; over the side aisles is a clerestory, the middle aisle terminating in an apse at the east end where the altar stood. The present use of the chapel as a depository for the Navy Records, the presses containing which obstruct the general view, is represented in the annexed woodcut (page 19).

The completion of the New Record Office will authorize the removal of this impediment, and restore an unimpeded view of the finest and most perfect specimen of early Norman architecture this country can exhibit. The records, most valuable as they are, although here misplaced, lay within recent times over a magazine of gunpowder, deposited in the vaults below, a fact which was stated to the late Duke of Wellington, then Lieutenant of the Tower. His Grace's response was a remarkable instance of singleness of mind. He replied, "Let them be, the papers won't harm the powder."

The third story contains the council chambers, in which Richard II. resigned his crown and state into the hands of Henry of Lancaster.

A winding stair (shown in the woodcut, page 20) leads to the roof of the Tower, at each of the four corners whereof is a turret; that at the north-east being distinguished as having formerly been used by Flamstead, the first astronomer royal, as an observatory.

* Stow informs us, on the authority of Edmund de Haddenham, that Gundulph was lodged in the house of one Edmere, a citizen of London, during the progress of this work.

The Tower was inclosed by Longchamp, Bishop of Ely and Chancellor of England in the reign of Richard I., on pretence

of providing against the designs of the Prince John upon the state. The drawing from which the woodcut is copied was taken in November 1846, at which time a canteen, called the Golden Chain, was demolished, with other buildings, which had been raised against the Salt Tower, one of the oldest of the towers by which the original Ballium wall was defended, being supposed to date from the reign of William Rufus. The vestige of Longchamp's wall thus brought to light, as seen in the view, was composed of blocks of chalk and flints, and faced with Kentish ragstone. Its height, when the drawing was taken, was about forty feet, and the thickness of the wall about nine feet.