and never before did the night seem longer to any men than it seemed to the guards that night, so eager were they for the break of day that they might meet the foe.

CHAP. V. THE BATTLE.

It was midnight. He tried
All his attendants had been

KING RICHARD lay in his tent. hard to sleep, but he could not. dismissed from his tent, and the King was there alone. He had strange forbodings that his time was at hand; and the remembrauce of his many misdeeds afflicted him sorely There he lay, tossing from side to side, and thinking of Hastings, and the young Princes, and Jane Shore, and other of his victims, so that in the morning, instead of being refreshed by sleep, he was fatigued, unfit for fighting, and, which was far worse, very unhappy.

time;

THE battle was bloody, but not very long. Richmond's troops bore down in fine style upon the soldiers of the King's army, who, although they fought bravely, were unable to bear the shock. Sir Hugh Trevanion's band was in the first rank of Richmond's army, and chanced to be directly opposed to Bodrigan's troopers; so that the two bands were, on the first attack, fighting with each other. Bodrigan made many attempts to strike Trevanion, but failed every and Sir Hugh, who, although a blunt stern fellow, and bitterly opposed to Richard and his adherents, had still a feeling heart, was grieved to see the malicious designs of Bodrigan in aiming especially at his life, and often, when he might have smitten the foe, who was once a friend, he withheld the blow. As I said before, he had a feeling heart, (hidden albeit by a rough exterior), and a quick temper, and, above all, by his hatred of the King. So Bodrigan's face was familiar to him amidst that desert of strange visages; and such was Trevanion's disposition, that he would have been glad enough to

have seen on such occasions were it but "a cat from his home."

THE battle was bloody and fierce; and very good the reason; for brave Englighmen were fighting against brave Englishmen―

"When Greeks joined Greeks,

Then was the tug of war."

Ar last, however, the King's troops gave way, and a general flight ensued. Richard also was slain in the battle. The triumph of Richmond was complete, and the kingdom was in his hands.

SIR William Stanley, walking among the slain, found King Richard's crown; so he took it from his head, and carried it back to their camp. There stood Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, in the midst of his troops. Sir William advanced, and bowing before him, placed the royal diadem upon head. Then turning to the army he exclaimed:-"This is your king!" and all the people shouted :-" Long live King Henry the Seventh!"

To be continued.

his

CHARLES II. & SIR GEORGE DOWNING.

Mr. Downing, grandfather to Sir George, was Oliver Cromwell's minister at the Hague. During his residence there, Charles II., being at Breda, sent a trusty messenger to his sister requesting a private interview at the Hague. A few days after, the king, accompanied with one gentleman, for the greater privacy, arrived at the place appointed. In the interim, Downing received an express from Oliver, intimating that Charles would be at the Hague at such a time, signifying also the place and the company, and ordering him to demand a party of the Dutch guards to seize the king, and send him over to England. Downing had a secret affection for the person of the king, and he knew to trifle with Oliver was certain death; at the same time he was astonished how

he had got the intelligence, though he was too sufficiently acquainted with the art and subtlely of his master to suspect the truth of it. To prevent, however, any disaster from happening to himself, he devised the following stratagem: he changed his clothes, put on a vizard with a large beard, slipped out of a private door of his house unknown to his family, went directly to the house where the king was, and desired to know of the host, whether two strange gentlemen were not arrived there? Being answered in the affirmative, he requested to be admitted to them. The king, being informed of the request, and hearing of the description of the person, was surprised, and, after a little conversation with his companion, refused him admission. The host returned again to the strangers with a warmer entreaty than the first. "Let the man came up," said the king, "he is but one; I think, (turning to his gentleman), we shall be able to manage him, if mischief is intended." When admitted, he told the king, he had a word with him in private, and that his companion must withdraw. This extraordinary request alarmed the king, being apprehensive that assassination was intented; but, after a little consultation, and viewing Downing, he granted his request. The gentleman withdrew, and Downing, (having locked and bolted the door after him, which increased the suspicions and fears of the king,) came forward, and, falling on his knees, solemnly entreated him not to divulge the secret he was about to communicate. The king promised, and faithfully kept his promise. He then informed him (pulling off his vizard) of the intelligence and orders he had received, and advised the king to depart instantly; for he was going to demand the guards. He said no more, retired from the king, went home, changed his clothes, demanded the guards, obtained them, and set off immediately to the place to execute Cromwell's orders. But the king, having taken the hint, but instantly left the place. After the Restoration, Downing being at court, some of the courtiers observed to the king that Downing, one of Oliver's ministers, was present. To whom the king replied, "I have an esteem for the man, he served us when in the most imminent danger of our person." The king added nothing more, and no one but Downing knew what he meant.

S. BARTHOLEMEW'S.

A TALE OF PAST DAYS.

CHAP. I. INTRODUCTION.

"Now ITS no good saying, Simon, but our parson is a regular papist, and Master Cecil (the dear good man!) says that he's made our Church a very thaatre.'

"I THINK you are much about right, Humphrey,” responded Simon Roundpate, the Baptist preacher, "for what with his bowings and scrapings, and turnings about, he's like to have S. Vitus's dance, and yet when he's a preaching he do stick up like a fool frightened and don't move an inch."

"OH NO!" answered Humphrey Singer, who (poor man) was silly enough to fancy himself a deacon—he've none of those graceful motions in the pulpit, like as you and other edifying preachers have: oh! my dear Sir, it does one good sure enough to see your delightfully graceful actions, and prevents one from falling asleep in a long sermon."

SUCH was the conversation which took place one fine after noon between the Baptist preacher of Lidbrooke (in which parish was S. Bartholemew's Church,) and one of the imaginary dolt deacons of the Independent Meeting-house in the same place. It was occasioned by a rigmarole sermon which Mr.Tadpole, the Independent preacher, had delivered on the preceding day, in which he had held up to ridicule the lawful clergyman of the parish, and reviled the Holy Church,-too presumptuous to know that he was abusing the body of CHRIST, the pillar and gronnd of the truth, and holding up to ridicule a Shepherd of the sheep, while himself was but an independent and ignorant schismatic.

His father was a cobler, and Jerry Tadpole himself had worked at the Last till he was three and twenty, and ought to have known that a cobler should not go beyond that; but somehow or other he fell in with a person who styled himself

the Reverend Augustus Quilkin, and was persuaded by him that he was “called” to the ministry; so the shoes were left to his father to sell, and away he went in company with Mr. Augustus to set up a place of business for the disposal of all manner of false doctrine and heresy. And it happened that he went to Lidbrooke, where, when he came, there was not one single Independent; but he soon managed to assemble a few, who came from curiosity at first, and afterwards, from custom,· THUS were the seeds of dissension first sown in this, till then, peaceful village. The malady, as all infectious diseases are wont, spread rapidly; although for at least the first year the congregation" consisted of none but the "lowest among the people." Of course among the rabble mischief always multiplies; and Mr. Hieron, the rector, had already been insulted during the performance of divine service by Mr. Quilkin and his associates.

66

Mr.

BEFORE proceeding further, we will recount a few of these outrages, so as to prepare the reader for the sequel. Hieron had preached one Trinity Sunday, (the third Sunday, only, of his ministry among them) of the most important doctrine of baptismal regeneration. He pointed out to his hearers the fallacy of the Calvinistic doctrine of election; showed them from the scripture that they were elect by baptism; and explained the absurdity of "irresistable grace," when Christians are urged to make "their calling and election sure." Of course all this was diametrically opposite to the Calvinistical teaching of Mr. Quilkin, who was dreadfully exasperated at what he was pleased to consider, and to call in the rostrum of his assembly room, "a doctrine of devils." Perhaps, if even he had taken time to consider wнo it was THAT said :—“ Whoso believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved,” he would not have said anything so horrible. All those who are accustomed to express themselves in such terms, ought to remember what CHRIST said when the Jews told HIM that HE "had a devil."

BUT to proceed.—It was evening, raining and dark, the