and "Purgatory" are described as public-houses of the lowest quality, frequented at a later period (James I.'s time), chiefly by lawyers' clerks, and “Paradise” is also named in common with other messuages of the time.

"Heaven" was a range of brick houses opposite to the end of Henry VII.'s chapel; and "Paradise" and "Hell" were subterraneous tenements under Westminster Hall.

The ordeal of "Purgatory" seems to have been of a nature well calculated to promote morality and decorum in the neighbourhood in which it was so situated. Within its precincts was the Ducking-stool. The offender was strapped within a chair, fastened by an iron pin or pivot, at one end of a long pole, suspended on its middle by a lofty trestle, which having been previously placed on the shore of the river, allowed the body of the culprit to be plunged "Hissing hot into the Thames." When the fervour of passion was supposed to have been cooled by the duckings, the lever was balanced, by pulling a cord at the other end, and the culprit shortly emancipated.

Above all, the palatial demesne contained

"The dreadful Hall, by Rufus rais'd."

This Hall, magnificent as its proportions are, was spoken of by the king but as a bedchamber in size, compared with the palace, to which it was intended as an accompaniment. This, most likely, was only a vain brag, though "when he (Rufus) saw the Hall of Westmynster yt he had caused to be buylded, he was therewith discontented yt it was so lytle. Wherefore, as it is rehersed of some wryters, he entended, if he had lyved, to have made a larger, and yt to have served for a chaumber." It was then a rude structure divided by pillars of wood or stone, so as to form a nave and side aisles in the manner of a large church. In this state it served all purposes of royal feasting, and national councils, as well as the usual courts of justice, until the reign of Richard II., when fire having injured it, it was thoroughly and effectually repaired in the admirable style which for the most part it still maintains; the northern front with its embattled towers and magnificent porch being an addition of this monarch. Partial repairs have of course been frequently made, and minor alterations, not always in the most appropriate taste, are clearly discernible. As a whole, Westminster Hall is magnificent.

* Eighty yards by twenty-two.

(To be continued.)

THE WIDOW MARRIED.*

BY MRS. TROLLOPE.

CHAP. IV.

OLD ACQUAINTANCE AND NEW ON ES-PATERNAL WISDOM, AND MATERNAL FOLLY, AS GENERALLY DISPLAYED IN WELL-REGULATED HOUSEHOLDS-A GOOD-NATURED VENTURE-PROPHETIC WARNINGS DISREGARDED-PARENTAL PRIDE AND PARENTAL HOPES ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD-PREPARATIONS FOR A HOMEWARD VOYAGE.

It was at an unusually late breakfast-table, one bright morning, in the very height of the London season, with windows opening upon Berkeley-square, and letting in through their Venetian blinds so rich. an odour of mignonette as to make the heat and dust without forgotten, that General Hubert and his lady were discussing the brilliant party of the evening before, when the postman's speaking dissyllabic signal gave notice of the arrival of a letter.

"From aunt Betsy, I am very sure!" exclaimed the lady.

"From your sister, with a few more raptures about Calabria," said the gentleman. Their suspense was not of long duration; the silver salver addressed itself to the fair hands of Agnes, who took from it a letter, bearing most decidedly neither an Italian nor a Devonshire postmark.

"Who in the world is that from?" said General Hubert.

"Heaven knows! It is excessively dirty," replied his wife. "It is a ship letter!" observed the general.

"But the postmark illegible," answered Agnes; and then having, like many other wise people, wasted a little more time in examining the exterior of her despatch than it would probably take to read it, she broke the seal and looked within.

The delicate cheek of Mrs. Hubert was instantly mantled with a bright blush.

"Whoever your correspondent may be, Agnes," said the general, meeting the distressed expression of her eye with a look of surprise, "he has no reason to complain of your indifference."

"Indifference!" she exclaimed, no not indifference! But how, Hubert will you endure, even upon paper, the reappearance of my aunt Barnaby?"

"Your aunt Barnaby?" replied the general with a smile. "Never mind Agnes, she will not harm us now."

"Oh! thank Heaven!" cried his wife fervently. "If you can bear it so philosophically, Hubert, I shall declare presently that I am glad to hear from her."

"Especially by a very way-worn, distant-dated ship-letter my love," he replied laughing. But if the request be not indiscreet, for kindness' sake read it aloud."

She did so, and the general's commentary was far from unfriendly. "I declare to you, Agnes," said he, "that I am very glad indeed to hear so good an account of her."

Continued from No. ccxxi., page 59. June.-VOL. LVI. NO, CCXXII.

N

foolish

"Thank you a thousand times, my own dear Hubert!" said Agnes, stretching out her hand to him. "If you had looked, at sight of this epistle, as I have seen you look in days of yore at sight of herself, I should have been-oh! I won't say how unhappy-because-poor woman!—what she says is true. She is my own mother's sister, and though-though she is, or at least was, all that I believe you thought her, it would have made me as sorry almost as I could now be for any thing that did not absolutely interfere with my own dear ménage, had you wished me not to answer it. But you will let me answer it, dear husband! will you not? Poor thing! only fancy her, having a child, Hubert what will it be like?"

66

Very like herself, I dare say, Agnes," replied General Hubert, laughing; "that is, you know, excepting all this," indicating the wellremembered rouge and ringlets by an expressive flourish of his fingers around his face,"such finished charins cannot appear at once; and, indeed, I should not be at all surprised if Miss Martha O'Donagough were to turn out a very bright-eyed little beauty."

Nay, I trust she will, or my poor aunt will break her heart. I cannot say I have a very distinct recollection of the papa. Have you?"

"Not the least in the world; and yet I shall never forget their entrée. How incomparably well your father behaved! I assure you it was a lesson which, I hope, if the good lady were actually to appear before us in person, I should not forget. It was the most gentle and gentlemanly reproof to our beloved aunt Betsy's severity that I ever witnessed; and I am rather proud to confess, Agnes, that notwithstanding my very strong inclination at the time to sympathize with the harsher faction, I felt that he was right then, and have decidedly loved him the better for it ever since."

"If ever there was a perfect-" began Agnes, raising her beautiful eyes to the face of her husband, but the sentiment or opinion she was about to pronounce, was lost to the world for ever by the general's very unceremoniously closing her lips with a kiss.

66

"We are despicably late this morning," said he, on looking at his watch, after perpetrating this audacity, and I must go to the Horseguards about young Belmont. But let me see my boys first, Agnes.”

Whatever emotions the lady might feel on being thus unceremoniously treated, they were not such as to induce her to refuse his request. The proper signal was given, and two young things entered the apartment, one carried in the nurse's arms, and the other doddling before her, whose aspect might really have excused, if any thing could, the vehement fanaticism of Mrs. Elizabeth Compton concerning them, as well as some undeniable symptoms of weakness on the part of General Hubert himself. That their mother should be firmly persuaded that no children in any degree approaching within reach of a comparison with them, ever did, or ever could exist, is a circumstance of too constant occurrence to merit an observation. But the little boys were, in truth, very pretty children, and it was no unpardonable vanity which made their mamma exclaim, as they entered, "I really should like for aunt Barnaby-Mrs. O'Donagough I mean-I really should like for her to see them, Hubert! But, perhaps, if her little girl is in another style, she might hardly thank me for showing them to her."