we turned; the scene was so entirely his own, that he moved with us, among the old places, in the sunshine and the shade.

The view of the house opens through a long vista; a lawn of noble width, and carpeted with the richest verdure, slopes on, until lost beneath the shadows of magnificent trees, judiciously cleared so as to afford one of the richest views in the midland counties of England; the atmosphere was so transparent that the prospect over hills and into deep valleys and dark woods, and down dells, clothed in juniper, and beech, and chestnut, seemed interminable; a very empire of beauty and of silence! It was better to picture Hampden there than within the precincts of that whited house. What a region for thoughts and works! Woe to those poor spirits who have no ideas, but those they can vent in sound! Truly the scene before us was worthy of its name; worthy to be noted from the old times to the present; worthy of its patriot-master; worthy to own no other lord than him whose name is as a beacon of liberty-a sacred unquenchable fire. Here were his great thoughts conceived; here nourished; not developed rashly or flung unadvisedly to the world, but nurtured by observation and in quiet. It is only in the magnificence of silence that the soul can commune with its God! The babbler knows nothing of the holiness, the uplifting, uplooking nature of this great privilege. We turned our footsteps towards the church; the clerk waited to receive us; the edifice is well cared for by the proprietor, the rector, and last, not least, the honest clerk, who looks upon it with the increasing affection begotten by the serving and tending of forty years. It is a beautiful specimen of an

old English house of worship, carefully preserved;* and the clerk was a fitting guide to its solemnities, thankful to be inquired of concerning what he so much loved, but saying no word too many; speaking not at all when he saw us full of thought. The church doors were open, but extra doors of iron net-work prevented the entrance of birds or boys; by this means the fresh breezes of the Chiltern Hills passed through the sanctuary, laden with the perfume of the flower garden of Hampden's house, so that the porch and aisle were fragrant with the scent of mignonette and clematis. Upon a young tree planted, as the clerk told us, "near eighteen years past by his own hands, to live when he was gone," a robin was rehearsing its autumn song, at intervals, as if it were too early to begin, and yet time to have it ready. The day was changing; a soft misty rain commenced, and rude gusts of wind swept through the trees, scattering the golden-tinted leaves on the green grass. We were now within the porch that Hampden had so often entered; within the sanctuary in which he communed with his God! The pews of the church are low and open; there is no gallery, and the organ, a gift of the late Lord Buckinghamshire, is placed amongst the seats, nearly opposite the communion-table. It was a privilege to stand within the sacred temple where Hampden lies, uncenotaphed, but unforgotten; to know that we were sheltered by the same roof that covered the

* It is a primitive structure, consisting of a nave with side aisles and chancel. The pillars and arches of the nave are early English, and of considerable beauty, exhibiting the purest features of the original architecture. The clerestory windows and roof are of the latest perpendicular style, merging into the Tudor.

remains of the purest of England's patriots; the offspring of an unbroken descent from the confessor; of a line famous in chivalry, and often entrusted with state services,

yet sufficient of himself to stamp a name with the truest immortality, had all his progenitors been peasant-born. On the right hand, close to the communion-table, is the