have to cull! We see the Jews being beaten nearly to
death for daring to attend the coronation of Richard I.; we observe
Edward I. watching the sacred stone of Scotland being placed beneath his
coronation chair; we behold for the first time, at Richard II.'s
coronation, the champion riding into the Hall, to challenge all who
refuse allegiance; we see, at the funeral of Anne of Bohemia, Richard
beating the Earl of Arundel for wishing to leave before the service is
over. We hear the _Te Deum_ that is sung for the victory of Agincourt,
and watch Henry VI. selecting a site for a resting-place; we hear for
the last time, at the coronation of Henry VIII., the sanction of the
Pope bestowed upon an English monarch; we pity poor Queen Caroline
attempting to enter the Abbey to see her worthless husband crowned; and
we view the last coronation, and draw auguries of a purer if not a
happier age. The old Hall, too; could we neglect that ancient chamber,
where Charles I. was sentenced to death, and where Cromwell was throned
in almost regal splendour? We must see it in all its special moments;
when the seven bishops were acquitted, and the shout of joy shook London
as with an earthquake; and when the rebel lords were tried. We must hear
Lord Byron tried for his duel with Mr. Chaworth, and mad Lord Ferrers
condemned for shooting his steward. We shall get a side-view of the
shameless Duchess of Kingston, and hear Burke and Sheridan grow eloquent
over the misdeeds of Warren Hastings.

[Illustration: BRIDEWELL IN 1666 (_see page 4_).]

The parks now draw us westward, and we wander through them: in St.
James's seeing Charles II. feeding his ducks or playing "pall-mall;" in
Hyde Park observing the fashions and extravagancies of many generations.
Romeo Coates will whisk past us in his fantastic chariot, and the beaus
and oddities of many generations will pace past us in review. There will
be celebrated duels to describe, and various strange follies to deride.
We shall see Cromwell thrown from his coach, and shall witness the
foot-races that Pepys describes. Dryden's gallants and masked ladies
will receive some mention; and we shall tell of bygone encampments and
of many events now almost forgotten.

Kensington will recall many anecdotes of William of Orange, his beloved
Queen, stupid Prince George of Denmark, and George II., who all died at
the palace, the old seat of the Finches. We are sure to find good
company in the gardens. Still as