f that gigantic race who
filled the world with a red glory like the gloom which will precede the
judgment, closed his stormy life peacefully in the place where he was
born, and thence was borne to the Invalides, to "sleep well" with his old
companions."

THE HOMES OF COWLEY AND FOX.

We have in the last _Art Journal_ another of the pleasant gossipping
_Pilgrimages to English Shrines_, by Mrs. S. C. HALL, and the following
abridgement of it will please all who have perused the previous papers of
the series. In Chertsey and its neighborhood are memorials of some of the
noblest men of England.

[Illustration: ABRAHAM COWLEY.]

ABRAHAM COWLEY.

CHERTSEY AND ITS FAMOUS CHARACTERS.

The county of Surrey is rich to overflowing in memories, both of persons
and events, and the little quaint and quiet town of Chertsey could tell of
the gorgeous and gloomy past as much as many of its ancient neighbors
within a day's drive of the city. Had its old abbey stones but tongues,
how they could discourse of years when a visit to Chertsey was an
undertaking; though now the distance is but half an hour.

Nowhere within twenty miles of London does the Thames appear more queenly,
or sweep with greater grace through its fertile dominions, than it does at
Chertsey. It is, indeed, delightful to stand on the bridge in the glowing
sunset of a summer evening, and turning from the refreshing green of the
Shepperton Range, look into the deep clear blue of the flowing river,
while the murmur of the waters rushing through Laleham Lock give a sort of
spirit music to the scene. On the right, as you leave Chertsey, the river
bends gracefully towards the double bridge of Walton, and to the left, it
undulates smoothly along, having passed Runnymede and Staines, while the
almost conical hill of St. Anne's attracts attention by its abrupt and
singular form when viewed from the vale of the Thames.

About a mile, on the Walton side, from our favorite bridge (Old Camden
tells us so), is the spot where Caesar crossed the Thames. Were the
peasantry as imaginative as their brethren of Killarney, what legends
would have grown out of this tradition; how often would the "noblest Roman
of them all" have been seen by the pale moonlight leading his steed over
the waters of the rapid river--how many would have heard Cassivelaunus
himself during the stillness of some particular Midsummer night wo