This happened in the spring and summer of 1604; when the conspirators also hired a house in Percy's name, adjoining that in which the parliament was to assemble. Towards the end of the year they began to pierce through the wall of the house in order to get in below that where the parliament was to sit. The walls were three yards thick, and consequently occasioned a great deal of labor. At length, however, they approached the other side, but were then startled by a noise for which they could not well account. Upon inquiry, they found that it came from a vault below the house of lords; that a magazine of coals had been kept there; and that the coals were then selling off, after which the vault would be let to the highest bidder. Upon this the vault was immediately hired by Percy; thirty-six barrels of powder lodged in it; the whole covered up with faggots and billets; the doors of the cellar boldly flung open; and every body admitted as if it contained nothing dangerous.

The king, the queen, and prince Henry, were expected to be present at the opening of the parliament. The duke, on account of his age, would be absent, and it was resolved that Percy should seize or murder him. The princess Elizabeth, likewise a child, was kept at Lord Harrington's house in Warwickshire; and some others of the conspirators engaged to assemble their friends on pretense of a hunting match, when they were to seize that princes, and immediately proclaim her queen. The day so long wished for at last approached; the dreadful secret, though communicated to more than twenty persons, had been religiously kept for a year and a half; when a few days before the meeting of parliament, Lord Monteagle, a Catholic, son to Lord Morley, received the following letter which had been delivered to his servant by an unknown hand:

To the right Conorable
The Lora monteagee

Copy of the Superscription of the letter sent to Lord

Monteagle.

"My Lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care for your preservation. Therefore I would advise you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift off your attendance on this parliament. For God and man have determined to punish the wickedness of this time. And think not slightly of this advertisement; but retire yourself into the country, where you may expect the event in safety. For though there be no appearance of any stir, yet, I say, they

shall receive a terrible blow this parliament; and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This council is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no harm; for the danger is over as soon as you have burned this letter. And I hope God will give you grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you."

Though Monteagle imagined this letter to be only a ridiculous artifice to frighten him, he immediately carried it to Lord Salisbury, secretary of state; who laid it before the king on his arrival in town a few days after. The king looked upon the letter in a more serious light. From the manner in which it was wrote he concluded that some design was forming to blow up the parliament house with gunpowder, and it was thought advisable to search the vaults below. The Lord Chamberlain, to whom this charge belonged, purposely delayed the search till the day before the meeting of parliament. He remarked those great piles of wood and faggots which lay in the vault under the upper house; and casting his eye upon Fawkes, who stood in a corner and passed for Percy's servant, he noticed the determined courage which was conspicuous in his face, and so much distinguished this conspirator. Such a quantity of fuel, also, for one who lived so little in the metropolis as Percy, appeared somewhat extraordinary; and, upon comparing all these circumstances, it was resolved to make a further search. About midnight, Sir Thomas Knivet, a justice of the peace, was sent with proper attendants; and before the door of the vault finding Fawkes, who had just finished all his preparations, he immediately seized him, and, turning over the faggots, discovered the powder. The matches and every thing proper for setting fire to the train were taken in Fawkes' pocket; who, seeing now no refuge but in boldness and despair, expressed the utmost regret that he had lost the opportunity of firing the powder at once, and of sweetening his own death by that of his enemies. For two or three days he displayed the same obstinate intrepidity; but, being confined in the tower, and a rack shown to him, his courage failed, and he made a discovery of all the conspirators.

Catesby, Percy, and the other criminals, on hearing that Fawkes was arrested, hurried away to Warwickshire; where Sir Edward Digby, imagining that his confederates had succeeded, was already in arms to seize the Princess Elizabeth. She had

escaped into Coventry; and they were obliged to put themselves in a posture of defense against the country people, who were raised from all quarters and armed by the sheriffs. The conspirators, with all their attendants, never exceeded the number of eighty persons; and being surrounded on every side, could no longer have any hope of escaping. Having therefore confessed themselves, and received absolution, they boldly prepared for death, and resolved to sell their lives as dear as possible. But even this miserable consolation was denied them. Some of their powder took fire, and disabled them from defending themselves. The people then rushed in upon them. Percy and Catesby were killed. Digby, Rockwood, Winter, and others, being taken prisoners, were tried, confessed their guilt, and died, as well as Garnet, by the hands of the common executioner. The lords Stourton and Mordaunt, two Catholics, were fined, the former £4,000, the latter £10,000 by the Star-Chamber; because their absence from parliament had occasioned a suspicion of their being made acquainted with the conspiracy. The Earl of Northumberland was fined £30,000, and detained several years a prisoner in the tower; because, not to mention other grounds of suspicion, he had admitted Percy into the number of gentlemen pensioners, without his taking the requisite oath.

Temple-Bar.

The city of London forms two portions: London within the walls, and London without the walls. London within the walls is the most ancient part, within the Roman walls; the other part consists of the suburbs or liberties formed in the Middle Ages, without these walls. Of the walls few remains exist; but it is worth while to refer to the boundary, as it will assist the archæologist in determining the

site of the Roman settlement, and will enable him to follow histo rically the growth of the city. The boundary of the old city is very nearly that of the great fire of 1668, and, consequently within those limits, the architecture is not earlier than Wren's time, and it is on the bounds we must look for mediæval monuments. Temple Bar, an outer bar in the liberties, is the only remaining gateway, and by which is the state entrance for the King or Queen. On such an occasion the gates are shut to, and the authorities drawn up within on the city side. A herald, or other officer of the king, knocks at the gate, and informs the Marshal that the King asks admission. The Marshal reports this to the Lord Mayor, who gives orders that the gates shall be thrown open, and proceeds to offer the King the city sword. The gate is sometimes strictly kept, for the

Lord Mayor being within his bounds second to the King alone, is jealous that his precedency of other great personages is preserved. Troops arriving at the city bounds must not pass through with drums beating, or colors flying, or recruit, unless with leave of the Lord Mayor, one regiment only excepted, by the name of the Old Bluffs, who were originally raised within the city; and who, when in England, are always welcomed in the exercise of their privileges. At the bars of the city without the walls, as at Temple Bar, Holborn Bar, and Smithfield Bar, officers of the city may be seen levying toll on all the carts of all nonfreemen, that is, all carts not marked with the city arms, the red cross of St. George, and the dagger.

The style of the corporation is the mayor and commonalty and citizens of London, and the head of this is the Lord Mayor. This officer is chosen by the Livery, on the 29th of September, being commonly the senior alderman, who has been sheriff, but not Lord Mayor.

The Lord Mayor elect goes in procession to be presented to the Lord High Chancellor, who signifies the assent of the government to the election. On the 8th of November, the Lord Mayor is sworn in before the Court of Aldermen, invested with the golden collar of SS. and jewel, and signs a bond for £4,000 to restore the plate and jewels of the office, which are, however, worth £20,000. These two ceremonies are worth seeing. The grand day is the 9th of November, kept as a city holiday, under the name of "Lord Mayor's day." Business is suspended in the principal thoroughfares, and in the afternoon the whole population are let loose. During the passage of the procession, the city officers close the streets against omnibuses and other carriages.

TEMPLE CHURCH, or properly St. Mary, Inner Temple, belongs to the societies of the Inner and Middle Temple. It was commenced by the Knights Templars, in the latter part of the twelfth century. It consists of two parts, the round church and the choir. The former, a fine specimen of the transition of the Norman style, is of the above period; the choir, which is in the early English style, dates about the middle of the thirteenth century. The church having fallen into bad repair, was put into a course of restoration, not to say rebuilding, in 1839, with strict regard to the original model. These works were completed in 1842, at a cost of £70,000. The pavement is laid with encaustic tiles, and the stalls and benches enriched with carvings from ancient patterns. Here are numerous ancient tombs of Knights Templars; here, also, were bu ried, Edmund Gibbon, Oliver Goldsmith, (1774.) The preacher of the Temple Church is called the Master, in obedience to ancient usage. Strangers are admitted by cards of introduction from members of either Temple.

THE GREAT PLAGUE IN LONDON IN 1665.

IN 1665, on the first rumor, of the plague having broken out in Long Acre, about the beginning of December, and that two persons, said to be Frenchmen, had died of it in one house, the secretary of state ordered the bodies to be inspected by two physicians and a surgeon; and on their report, it was inserted in the weekly bill of mortality, that two persons were dead of this disorder.* This occasioned considerable alarm throughout the metropolis; and the death of another man of the plague in the same house where it had first appeared, in the last week of December, increased the apprehensions that were already entertained.

The prevalence of a frost, attended by winds, checked the mortality till the month of April and May, when a gradual increase of deaths by the plague was returned in the bills, and particularly in the parish of St. Giles. During the last two weeks of May, and the first week of June, the disorder spread in a dreadful manner: whole streets were infested with it, and, though many arts were employed to conceal its ravages, apprehension and dismay spread over the metropolis. In the second week in June, the deaths greatly increased in St. Giles's parish, where its strength yet lay, about one hundred died of the plague; but, within the city walls, only four were enumerated.

About this time his Majesty, with his whole court, departed for Oxford, where they continued till after Christmas: leaving the chief weight and direction of the capital, in this most calamitous era, to the Duke of Albemarle, and Sir John Lawrence, " London's generous Mayor."

In June and July the infection spread rapidly, and consternation and horror dwelt in every bosom. All whose circumstances or duties would permit, quitted the metropolis, and the roads were thronged with multitudes hastening from the scene of death. From the parishes of St. Giles, Westminster, St. Martin, and St. Andrew, the disorder passed eastward on the outskirts of the city to Clerkenwell, Cripplegate, and Shoreditch; where the crowded habitations of the poor and laboring classes offered a full prey to its ravages.

During the month of August, the infection greatly extended its ravages, and, though every precaution that prudence and skill could suggest, was taken to prevent its spreading, it now began to rage with considerable violence, even within the city itself. All trade, but for the immediate necessaries of life, was at an end; the streets were deserted of passengers, every place of diversion was closed, and assemblies of whatever kind, except for the celebration of prayer and divine worship, were strictly prohibited.

In the last week in August, that is, from the twenty-second to the twenty-ninth, and while the city was as yet comparatively free, the number of deaths by the plague was recorded in the bills at seven thousand four hundred and ninety-six. It should be remembered too, that this was at a time when nearly two hundred thousand persons are thought to

• The general manner in which the pestilence affected its victims, was by fevers, vomiting, head-ache, pains in the back, and tumors, or swelling in the neck. groin, and armpits, accompanied by inflammation and gangrene. In the height of the disease, the deaths occurred within two or three days after the patient was taken ill; and sometimes within three, four, or six hours, where the plague spots, or tokens, as they were called, had shown themselves without previous illness. The violence of the pain arising from the swellings, frequently occasioned delirium; and where the tumors could not be maturated, death was inevitable.

have previously quitted the metropolis. The dead augmented beyond the means of enumeration, the churchyards were no longer capable of receiving the bodies, and large open spaces, on the outskirts of the me tropolis, were appropriated for the purpose. "Whole families, and, indeed, whole streets of families, were swept away together, insomuch, that it was frequent for neighbors to call to the bellman to go to such and such houses, and fetch out the people for they were all dead."

The grave was now a " yawning abyss :" deeper and more extensive pits were dug, and the rich and the poor, the young and the aged, the adult and the child, were all promiscuously thrown headlong together into one common receptacle. By day, the streets presented a most frightful aspect of desolation and misery; and at night, the dead carts, moving with slow pace by torchlight, and with the appalling cry, "bring out your dead!" thrilled horror through every heart that was not hardened, by suffering, to calamity.

London presented a wide and heart-rending scene of misery and desolation. Rows of houses stood tenantless, and open to the winds; others, in almost equal numbers, exhibited the red cross flaming on the doors. The chief thoroughfares, so lately trodden by the feet of thousands, were overgrown with grass. The few individuals who ventured abroad walked in the middle; and, when they met, removed to opposite sides, to avoid the contact of each other. But, if the solitude and stillness of the streets impressed the mind with awe, there was something yet more appalling in the sounds which occasionally burst on the ear. At one moment were heard the ravings of delirium or the wail of woe from the infected dwellers; at another, the merry song or the loud and careless laugh issuing from the wassailers at the tavern, or the inmates of the brothel. Men became so familiarized with the form, that they steeled their feelings against the terrors of death. They waited each for his turn with the resignation of the Christian or the indifference of the stoic. Some devoted themselves to exercises of piety; others sought relief in the riot of dissipation, and the recklessness of despair.

September came, the heat of the atmosphere began to abate; but, contrary to expectation, the mortality increased. Formerly, a hope of recovery might be indulged; now, infection was the certain harbinger of death, which followed generally, in the course of three days, often within the space of twenty-four hours. The privy council ordered an experiment to be tried, which was grounded on the practice of former times. To dissipate the pestilential miasm, fires of sea-coal, in the proportion of one fire to every twelve houses, were kindled in every street, court, and alley of London and Westminster. They were kept burning three days and nights, and were at last extinguished by a heavy and continuous fall of rain. The next bill exhibited a considerable reduction in the amount of deaths, and the survivors congratulated each other on the cheering prospects. But the cup was soon dashed from their lips, and in the following week, more than ten thousand victims, a number hitherto unknown, sunk under the augmented violence of the disease. Yet even now, when hope had yielded to despair, their deliverance was at hand. The high winds which usually accompany the autumnal equinox, cooled and purified the air; the fever, though equally contagious, assumed a less malignant form, and its ravages were necessarily more confined' from the diminution of the population on which it had hitherto fed. The weekly burials successfully decreased from thousands to hundreds; and in the beginning of December, seventy-three parishes were pronounced clear of the disease. The intelligence was hailed with joy by the emigrants, who returned in crowds to take possession of their homes, and resume their usual occupations; in February the court was once more fixed at Whitehall, and the nobility and gentry followed the footsteps of the sovereign. Though more than one hundred thousand individuals are said to have perished, yet in a short time the chasm in the population was no longer discernible. The plague continued indeed, to linger in particular spots, but its terrors were forgotten or despised; and the streets, so recently abandoned by the inhabitants, were again thronged with multitudes in the eager pursuit of profit, pleasure, or crime.