In the same neighbourhood stands the old town-hall, (profusely ornamented in the antique style,) in which Mrs. Siddons first made her appearance as an actress; and near by are the houses in which "Dame Oliver," the elder Addison, David Garrick's father, Dr. Darwin, and other celebrated persons resided. There is scarcely a street in this ancient town, which is not consecrated by interesting recollections. Here Bishop Newton, the eminent divine, was born: here Major Andre, whose misfortunes form an episode in the history of our revolution, spent his early years: and here Brook who gave half of the name to the town (Saybrook) at the mouth of Connecticut river, whither he intended to emigrate, was massacred in the streets. The school-house in which Dr. Johnson taught David Garrick, with one or two other pupils, before the two pennyless adventurers set out for London together, is several miles from town, and could not conveniently be seen.

On our way to Stowe Hill, we visited the aged willow, to which Johnson's early attachment and subsequent fame have imparted celebrity. Its branches formed his favourite shade in the days of boyhood, and a seat for meditation in his riper years. If it was not planted by his hand, he nursed it with parental fondness. Its trunk, which is four or five feet in diameter, is a mere shell, with an aperture so large, that I went in at one side, and out at the other. It is tottering with the infirmities of age, and like its former admirer, must soon sink beneath the weight of years. Most of the branches within reach have been broken off as relics by visitants; and following the example of others, we plucked a few slips, with the hope that they may hereafter be seen flourishing in the United States.

Our last walk was to Abbenhalls, to visit the site of Dr. Darwin's Botanic Garden, which was the original of his poem. Its location was not far from the Cathedral. Few traces of it now remain. The compartments are visible, enclosed by hedges of hawthorn, between which there are straight narrow walks. More substantial crops now supply the places of shrubbery and flowers. Here the author of the Botanic Garden spent many years of his life, and wrote some of his principal works.

Next morning, we took the coach for Birmingham, in Warwickshire. The only object which arrested particular attention during the ride, was Aston Hall, the seat of Mr.

Watt, a son of the distinguished gentleman of the same name, who made so many improvements in steam-engines. It is three or four miles from Birmingham, situated upon a sloping lawn, twenty rods from the road. The grounds are beautifully shaded with woods, and the house has a palacelike appearance. It is the scene of Washington Irving's Bracebridge Hall, a name by which it was once called.

We reached Birmingham at 10 o'clock, and took lodgings at the Royal Hotel, in Temple Row, near St. Philip's church, which is one of the finest parts of this over-grown manufacturing town, denominated with a great deal of truth “the toyshop of Europe." Although it is situated upon an eminence, with a suitable proportion of public buildings, it has few handsome streets, and no architectural beauty. Every thing is calculated for a money-making utility. The houses are generally substantial, but none of them elegant. Were it otherwise, the town could not possibly appear to advantage, since it is eternally enveloped in a cloud of coal-smoke, so dense as to be scarcely respirable. It has a population of nearly two hundred thousand, engaged almost exclusively in the manufacture of hardware.

Immediately after our arrival letters of introduction were despatched, which made us acquainted with one of our own countrymen, who is connected with an extensive commercial house in New-York. He devoted himself to us during our stay of a few days, and rendered us essential service, by gaining admittance to manufactories, the doors of which are barred against strangers, and but for his aid would have been impregnable.

On the afternoon of our arrival, we called at Mr. Thompson's show rooms, which are ten in number, filled with every variety of wares of the highest finish. It is an amusing spectacle for the mere visitant, and an hour was spent in looking at articles, a description of which would fill a volume. Among the most curious is a copy of the famous Warwick vase, seven feet in diameter, made of bronze, and elegantly finished. The labour of a full year was expended upon it. Mr. Thompson's assemblage of imitation coins and medals is also extensive. His rooms are the most splendid in town, with the exception perhaps of those of Mr. Jones, to which he has given the classical name of Havrexvadnxa-repository of all the arts. These apartments are as much visited by both sexes as public museums.

The next two days were busily occupied in going the rounds of various manufactories, details of which would not be interesting to my readers. The people of Birmingham appear to entertain liberal feelings towards our country. With the single exception of the man who draws wire and makes frying-pans, and who seemed to entertain fears that we would steal his trade, the manufacturers treated us with great kindness and attention. The proprietor of one of the principal establishments invited us to dine with him at Pike Hall, two miles from town. He has a rural and beautiful retreat, with extensive grounds and gardens. His house is elegantly furnished, and among its ornaments are paintings which cost him £30,000. As his manufactory has supplied most of the arms for the East-Indies, his table has long been the resort of military officers. He gave us one of the best dinners that had been found in England, with a speech and a round of sentiments, breathing a spirit of liberality towards the United States. One of the guests informed me, that he dined twice with the celebrated senator of Roanoke, when he was at Birmingham, and found him pleasant over a bottle of old port. On our way to and from Pike Hall, we passed the ruins of Dr. Priestley's house, which was destroyed by the formidable mob at the commencement of the French Revolution, and drove its tenant to our own shores.

LETTER XXXI.

COVENTRY-KENILWORTH--WARWICK---STRATFORD-ON-AVON BIRTH-PLACE AND TOMB OF SHAKSPEARE-RIDE TO OXFORD THE UNIVERSITY-ETON SCHOOL-WINDSOR CASTLE

RETURN TO LONDON.

November, 1825.-On the morning of the 18th, we took seats in the coach for Coventry, seventeen miles from Birmingham. The approach to the town, which the muse of Shakspeare has immortalized by making it the scene of Sir John Falstaff's military adventures, is not uninteresting, independently of its associations. Three lofty and well proportioned steeples, rising to the height of about three hundred feet, give an imposing aspect to the place, which boasts of great antiquity, and has enjoyed its day of celebrity. It

was once encompassed by a strong wall, and was entered by twelve gates. Its present population is about 14,000.

After breakfast, an intelligent and polite citizen who appeared to feel some pride in the place of his residence, accompanied us without solicitation to St. Michael's Church, and directed our attention to such objects as are interesting to the stranger. It is an old and venerable pile. The spire is a beautiful model of architecture, and was much admired by Sir Christopher Wren.

From the Church, we were conducted to another part of the town, to look at a curious figure called "Peeping Tom." The image of a tailor, dressed in a cocked hat, and ornamented with a profusion of lace and ribbons, is seen peeping from a niche in the exterior wall of a house, standing at the corner of the streets. Tradition says that Godiva, Marchioness of ancient Mercia, consented to ride through the streets of Coventry, more slightly clad than even Falstaff's ragged regiment, for the purpose of propitiating her lord, who had consented to relieve the citizens from a heavy tax upon such conditions. An edict was issued, that the shops and houses should all be shut during the ceremony. The curiosity of a certain tailor triumphed over his regard for the ordinance, and prompted him to peep from his window at the passing spectacle. As a retribution for such an act of indecorum, he was instantly struck blind; and some editions of the legend add, that his eyes dropped from their sockets. By the unanimous voice of the citizens, he was "damned to everlasting fame." The heroic exploit of Lady Godiva is gratefully commemorated once in two or three years, when some gallant female volunteers to ride through the streets at the head of a procession, personating as nearly as possible the great patroness of the town. On such occasions, Peeping Tom enjoys the benefit of a new hat, a new coat, and other decorations. The next anniversary will be celebrated in a few months. In an age of refinement, this Eleusinian ceremony might perhaps be advantageously commuted.

At Coventry we took a post-chaise for Kenilworth, a small brick town, situated upon a sandy plain. The road between the two places is bordered by large trees, which are the remains of an extensive forest once infested by robbers. Our sole object at Kenilworth was to see the ruins of the Castle, seated on a little eminence to the west of the town. Something more than half an hour was spent in rambling over the

enchanted spot, and in tracing out its associations. The proportions of the Castle, plainly discoverable by the fragments which remain, are upon a gigantic scale. Massive walls, arches, and columns cover a large area, and were calculated for great strength, having been surrounded with a moat and furnished with draw-bridges. A luxuriant growth of ivy, intermingled with mountain-ash, hawthorn, and the wild brier, mantles the ruins, climbing the broken pillars, and hanging around the grey battlements, in the richest and most fanciful festoons.

After pausing for a few minutes at the lodge to look at the antique ornaments, composed half of oak and half of marble, which decorated the old fire-place of the Castle, and have been dug from the ruins, we resumed our journey and rode to Warwick, six miles beyond. Passing under a lofty arch of the old wall, surmounted by a tower, we entered the village, which is pleasantly situated and has several handsome streets hewn from the cliffs. It contains a population of eight or ten thousand, with a large proportion of public buildings. To our regret it was ascertained on arriving at the hotel, that the Castle would not be opened until the next day at 1 o'clock, a delay which our arrangements would not justify. Our view of it was therefore confined to the exterior, from the bridge of the Avon, on the rocky bank of which the Castle is prettily seated. Its battlements look immediately down upon the stream, which flows peacefully by, and is bordered by copses of forest trees. The lodge and entrance are in bad taste, looking more like the approach to a stable, or any other building, than the seat of a noble

man.

The remainder of our short stay at Warwick was employed in a visit to St. Mary's Church, which contains a great number of sepulchral monuments. Its interior is spacious, with a lofty Gothic ceiling, highly finished. The section of it called the Lady's Chapel, is a splendid specimen of architecture, enriched with a profusion of ornaments, and containing the tombs of the Earls of Warwick. That in memory of Beauchamp is peculiarly striking. He lies in state, clad in ancient armour of double-gilt brass, with a bier of the same material above him. Numerous other groups sleep around, imparting to the chapel an air of solemnity.

After taking some refreshment at the hotel, for which an exorbitant price was charged, amounting to about twice as