The Revolution in Tanner's Lane

orld

Plymouth, close to the soft south-western ocean, the average depth of the fall was twenty inches, and there was no other way of getting eastwards than by pack-horses. The Great North Road was completely blocked, and there was a barricade over it near Godmanchester of from six to ten feet high. The Oxford coach was buried. Some passengers inside were rescued with great difficulty, and their lives were barely saved. The Solway Firth at Workington resembled the Arctic Sea, and the Thames was so completely frozen over between

Israel's neck, and Israel said unto Joseph, "Now let me die, since I have seen thy face:" Paul, after preaching at Ephesus, calling the elders of the Church to witness that, for the space of three years, he ceased not to warn every one night and day with tears, kneeled down and prayed, so that they all wept sore and fell on his neck: Romeo took a last embrace of Juliet in the vault, and sealed the doors of breath with a righteous kiss: Penelope embraced Ulysses, who was welcome to her as land is welcome to shipwrecked swimmers escaping from the grey seawater-there have, we say, been some remarkable embraces on this earth since time began, but none more remarkable than that on the steps of the Abercorn Arms. The Divine couple then drove in solemn procession to town. From the park corner for three-quarters of a mile or so was a line of private carriages, filled with most fashionable people, the ladies all standing on the seats. The French Royalist flag waved everywhere. All along the Kilburn Road, then thinly lined with houses, it was triumphant, and even the trees were decorated with it. Arriving by way of Cumberland Gate at Piccadilly, Lewis was escorted, amidst uproarious rejoicing, to Grillon's Hotel in Alb

ay, and did not lift his hat even when the Sacred Majesty appeared on the hotel steps. He was a smallish, thin-faced, lean c

from a drayman weighing about eighteen stone; but the tile was not removed. In an instant it was sent flying to the other side of

huge antagonist; but he was no coward, and not seeing for the moment that his hat h

back; if I am a Corsica

ealt him a blow with the fist right in his face, which

out "Shame, shame!" Nor did they confine themselves to ejaculations, for a young fellow of about eight an

ile off, be

e intensely delighted and excited, and a cry of "A ring, a ring!" was raised. The drayman, blind with rage, let out with his right arm with force enough to fell an ox, but the stroke was most artistically parried, and the response was another fearful gash over the r

you've got, and from one of the people too; that makes it h

m as well as he coul

se in Swallow Street, where apparently he was well known. Water was called for; Zachariah was sponged, the wound stra

iah's side. The coach found its way slowly through the streets to some lodgings in Clerkenwell. It was well the stranger did g

not? His theology probably had no more gaps in it than that of the latest and most enlightened preacher who denies miracles and affirms the Universal Benevolence. His present biographer, from intimate acquaintance with the class to which Zachariah belonged, takes this opportunity to protest against the general assumption that the Calvinists of that day, or of any day, arrived at their belief by putting out their eyes and accepting blindly the authority of St. Paul or anybody else. It may be questioned, indeed, whether any religious body has ever stood so distinctly upon the understanding and has used its intellect with such rigorous activity, as the Puritans, from whom Zachariah was a genuine

by a spring. These, however, Zachariah thought minor matters, if, indeed, he ever noticed them. "The great thing was, that she was"-sometimes this and sometimes that-and so it was settled. Unfortunately in marriage it is so difficult to be sure of what the great thing is, and what the little thing is, the little thing becoming so frightfully big afterwards! Theologically, Mrs. Zachariah was as strict as her husband, and more so, as far as outward observance went, for her strictness was not tempered by those secular interests which to him were so dear. She read little or nothing-nothing, indeed, on week-days, and even the Morning Chronicle, which Zachariah occasionally borr

e order, although it was so early in the morning. Everything was dusted; even the lower fire-bar had not a speck of ashes on it, and on the hob already was a saucepan in which Mrs. Coleman proposed to cook the one o'clock dinner.

y entered. She was slightly taken aback at seeing Zachariah in such a plight, and uttered

misfortune to be the victim of a most blackguardly assault; but I am sure that, under you

manner was when doing her morning's work, and she had on her white apron; but she was trim and faultless, and the white handkerchief did but set off her black hair and marble complexion. Her second emotion, too, was not sympathy. Zachariah was at home at the wrong time. Her ordinary household arrangements were upse

very kind of yo

word, nor had she moved towards

me your name. I am too faint to say how much

Maitland-Major Maitlan

king at Mrs. Coleman, observed musingly, "I think I'll send my

ly pressed it to his lips, and rode off i

on her cheek, and perceptibly a little happier than she was five minutes before. She did nothing more than put her hand on hi

ght be inflammation. Zachariah, although he was accustomed to give way, begged for tea; and it was made ready, but not with water boiled there. She would not again put the copper kettle on the fire, as it was just cleaned, but she asked to be allowed to use that

and inquiry, made his way upstairs. Having examined our friend, he pronounced him free from all mortal or even serious injury-it was a case of contusion and shak

this which drew a veil before his eyes and led him blindfold over the precipice! He at first thought, when his joy began to ebb in February or March, that it would rise again, and that he would see matters in a different light; but the spring was here, and the tide had not turned. It never would turn now, and he became at last aware of the sad truth-the saddest a man can know-that he had missed the great delight of existence. His chance had come, and had gone. Henceforth all that was said and sung about love and home would find no echo in him. He was paralysed, dead in half of his soul, and would have to exist with the other half as well he could. He had done no wrong: he had done his best; he had not sold himself to the flesh or the devil, and, Calvinist as he was, he was tempted at times to question the justice of such a punishment. If he put his finger in the fire and got burnt, he was able to bow to the wisdom which taught him in that

know. He took a sort of sullen pride in not knowing, and he marched along, footsore and wounded, in obedience to the orders of his great Chief. Only thirty years old, and only three months a husband, he had already learned renunciation. There was to be no joy in life? Then he would be satisfied if it were tolerable, and he strove to dismiss all his dreams and do his best with what lay before him. Oh my hero! Perhaps somewhere or other-let us hope it is true-a book is kept in which human worth is duly appraised, and in that book, if such a volume there be, we shall find that

walked Major Maitland. He was now in full afternoon costume, and, if not dandyish, was undeniably well dresse

etter, although the beery loyal

I should have been, sir, if it ha

rbon costs something. My God, though, a man must be a fool who has to be taught that! I

e introduction of God's name; but it was not exactly swearing, and Major M

Maitland, "is Major Cartwright; but he do

ook at the mob we saw the day before yesterday. I think not of the people. But there is a

not, and never was, a fair specimen. But, even in London, you must not be deceived. You don't know its real temper; and then, as to not being worth saving-why, the worse men are the more they want saving. However, we are both agreed about this-crew, Liverpool, the P

'Friends of

et twice a week for a little talk about a

ted a moment, an

going away, and picked up from the t

My God, it is poetry and no mistake! Not exactly, perhaps, in your line; but you are a man of sense, and if that doesn't make your heart leap in you I'm much mistaken. Lord Byron is a neighbour of

n offer most gracefully declined-followed him to the top of the stairs. As before, he kissed her hand, made her a profound bow, and was off. When she

as lying there asleep, but Zachariah, although he knew he was within fifty yards of him, felt no emotion whatever. This was remarkable, for Byron's influence, even in 1814, was singular, beyond that of all predecessors and successors, in the wideness of i

at home; and his education, mainly on the Old Testament, contributed greatly to the development both of the strength and weakness of his character. For such as he are weak as well as strong; weak in the absence of the innumerable little sympathies and worldlinesses which make life delightful, and but too apt to despise and tread upon those gentle flowers which are as really here as the sun and the stars, and are nearer to us. Zachariah found in the Corsair exactly what answered to his own inmost self, down to its very depths. The lofty style, the scorn of what is mean

ul that tender

ost to light

ine my heart re

s into silen

icularly the

s centre, a s

w flame, eter

darkness of de

s ray as it ha

l object. It will manifest itself in suppressed force, seeking for exit in a thousand directions; sometimes grotesque perhaps, but always force. It will give energy to expression, vitality to his admiration of the beautiful, devotion to his