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CHIPPING BARNET.

laughable scene of confused merriment and diversion. On the verge of the common are some neat villas recently erected and Whetstone, a little village at its extremity, is recommended to us by its rural simplicity. Finchley Common is now inclosed.

Chipping Barnet is a small town of no distinction; it has indeed a rough pillar standing in the middle of the road, which commemorates a bloody battle fought on that spot, Easter Day, 1471. The contest was between the two houses of York and Lancaster, and proved decisive in favour of Edward IV., his great foe, the king-making Earl of Warwick being slain. The mischiefs of WAR are incalculable. The inflamed passions of men in arms resemble the tornado, which sweeps every object into destruction!

Alas! even now-

When science roams at large about the world,

When men would fain be thought exceeding wise,
And talk of reason and religion too,

As though their hearts felt what their tongues repeat,
Even now the MONSTER triumphs!

AMPHLETT.

A few miles beyond Barnet, on the right, stands the seat of one of the present members for Middlesex, George Byng, Esq., an enlightened and consistent friend of liberty.

We reached St. Alban's about breakfast-time, distant twenty-one miles from London. The antiquity of this place entitles it to attention.

The town of St. Alban is not large, but of rather a pleasant appearance. It has little trade

of any kind. The magnitude of its abbey-church strikes the of the beholder with awe. eye Its interior is enriched with monuments worthy attention. That of Humphrey, commonly called the Good Duke of Gloucester, has an inscription alluding to the detection of a false miracle, common in the age of credulity, when he lived. Upon the pulling up of a trap-door you descend into a vault, containing a battered leaden coffin, with a few bones, said to be those of Duke Humphrey; to deny or prove the assertion is equally impossible. I however took the bones into my hand, when a melancholy sensation stole across my mind, suggested by the passing nature of all human glory!

In or near this town two battles were fought in the bloody wars of York and Lancaster. That in 1445, was the first conflict, and terminated in favour of the Yorkists. The valiant Clifford and the great Earl of Somerset were slain in it, and the King, Henry VI., taken prisoner. The second battle, in 1461, ended in a complete victory to Queen Margaret, at the head of the Lancastrians.

In one of the churches belonging to St. Alban's is a handsome monument to the memory of Lord Chancellor BACON, whose death at Highgate has been already mentioned. He is represented sitting in a chair in a thoughtful posture, and beneath him is a Latin inscription to this purport:

"FRANCIS BACON, Baron of Verulam and Viscount of St. Alban; or by his more known titles, the Light of the Sciences and the Law of Eloquence, was thus accustomed to sit; who, after having unravelled all the mysteries of

natural and civil wisdom, fulfilled the decree of naturethat things joined should be loosed!-in the year of our Lord 1626, and of his age sixty-six.

"This was erected to the memory of so great a man by Thomas Meautys, who reverenced him while living, and admires him dead!"

The above inscription is the panegyric of a friend, but just in point of literary commendation. Pope and Thomson, indeed, alluding to the charge of bribery, have delineated his character with impartiality, though we do not look for the exactness of truth in the language of poetry:

If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shin'd,
The wisest, brightest, meanest, of mankind!

POPE.

Thine is a BACON, hapless in his choice,
Unfit to stand the civil storms of state;
And through the rude barbarity of Courts,
With firm, but pliant virtue, forward still
To urge his course-him for the studious shade
Kind nature form'd-deep, comprehensive, clear,
Exact and elegant-in one rich soul

Plato, the Stagyrite, and Tully join'd.

The great deliverer HE! who, from the gloom

Of cloister'd Monks and jargon-teaching schools,

Led forth the true philosophy-there long

Held in the magic charms of words and forms,

And definitions void, he led her forth.

Daughter of Heav'n! that slow ascending still,

Investigating sure the chain of things,

With radiant finger points to heav'n again! THOMSON.

This is not the place for investigating his political character; but the greatest blame is laid upon

his servants. There is no doubt that some of them were guilty of bribery, and that their Lord had this opinion of them; for one day, during his trial, passing through a room where his domestics were sitting, upon their rising to salute him, he said, Sit down-my masters, your rise has been my fall! The author of the Biographia Britannica remarks, that it was peculiar to Lord Bacon to have nothing narrow or selfish in his composition; he gave away without concern whatever he possessed, and believing other men of the same mind, he received with as little consideration.

In the vicinity of St. Alban's are the vestiges of the town of Verulam, famous in the days of the Romans. The old walls lying scattered throughout the fields, and almost concealed from the eye by the luxuriancy of vegetation, created a solemn impression on my mind.

It is conjectured, from the situation of Verulam, that it was the town of Cassivelaunus, so well defended by woods and marshes, which was taken by Cæsar. In Nero's time it was esteemed a Municipium; or a town whose inhabitants enjoyed the rights and privileges of Roman citizens. It was injured by the Britons during the war between the Romans and Boadicea, Queen of the Iceni: though Verulam flourished again, and became a city of note, about the middle of the fifth century it fell into the hands of the Saxons: but Uther Pendragon, the Briton, recovered it with difficulty. After his death, Verulam fell again into

the hands of the Saxons; but by frequent wars it was at last ruined.

St. Alban's, it is well known, derives its name from Alban, said to be the first martyr for Christianity in Britain; and it is generally agreed that he suffered during the great persecution under the reign of Diocletian. The story, however, told by Bede, is too miraculous for belief. And the immortal Milton, speaking of his history, concludes with saying, that "his martyrdom, foiled and worse martyred with the fabling zeal of some idle fancies, more fond of miracles than apprehensive of truth, deserves no longer digression."

St. Alban's has several respectable dissenting places of worship, one of which has an excellent charity school.

A little higher up stands the parish of Welwyn, where Dr. Edward Young was Rector for many years, dying there in the year 1765, at a very advanced period of life. On this spot his Night Thoughts were composed, which, though a favourite with the public, on account of its interesting melancholy, yet seems in some detached parts to reflect on the Divine goodness. Hence, on their first appearance, an ingenious reply was made to these parts, entitled Day Thoughts, or a Vindication of the Benevolence of the Deity.*

We next came to Dunstable, a poor place, just

* See the Beauties of Young, with a memoir prefixed, by J. EVANS. Anecdotes will be there found illustrative of a strange mixture of melancholy and cheerfulness, by which this eminent poet was distinguished.