was an hour long, was concluded by moving an amendment," that the meeting adjourn to that day six months." When he had finished, all the people present seemed to rise up together from their seats and join in one long-continued loud huzza. The silence they had kept till then made this burst of applause the more surprising; I was quite startled with it, and could not conceal my astonishment.

Dr. Birch rose to answer Mervyn, but for a long time he could not get a hearing; they cried out, "Down with Cardinal Birch," "Down with Parson Falstaff," and other jeers of that sort. Mervyn at last persuaded them to listen to the arguments of their opponents with patience. The Doctor spoke, as he always does, very well; there was much humour in his speech, which made the people laugh frequently, and, by that means, he was gaining some power over them. At last, however, he got into a scrape, from which he could not extricate himself. He was showing how the clergy, in all times, and in all nations, had been supported by the payment of tithes; he showed that the custom existed even amongst the heathen-that Apollo took tithes of the Siphnians -that the Delians paid tithes, &c.-and that Herodotus, in the Second Book of his History, records "the piety of Rhodopis, the Thracian, who made a great fortune in Egypt as a courtezan. She presented tithes to the Delphic temple, or, as the

father of history says, 'she ordered the tenth part of her property to be expended in making a number of silver spits, each large enough to roast an ox:' they were sent to Delphi, and were in the sanctuary when Herodotus wrote." This strange story raised such a roar of laughter that the Doctor could not go on. A fellow cried out from the galleries, "Oh, Doctor! how thou must be longing to be at those spits!" and, in short, there was no possibility of saying a word afterwards.

We had now a complete uproar; at last I persuaded them to hear me, and to come to a decision. As many as were for the rate were to hold up their bands. I did not count them; for they were not worth counting,-perhaps fifty-not more. then desired those who were against the rate to hold up their hands, several hundreds were lifted up.

I

The churchwardens demanded a poll; but I followed Scrope's advice, and told them I should not press the matter.

The rate was refused accordingly.

The shout which followed I leave you to imagine: they gave" Three groans for the Bishops," "Three groans for the silver spits,""Three groans for Rathcormac," and "Three cheers for schism." I add no more; and indeed this is enough.

Your miserable

RABSHAKEI,

CONCLUSION.

THE temper of the noble Rabshakeh seems, after this defeat, to have been greatly ruffled. His letters written to his friends subsequent to the refusal of the Church-rates display so unhappy a state of mind, that I forbear publishing them.

Dr. Birch died shortly afterwards of an apoplexy, after eating too hearty a supper of oysters, at the Vicarage. Churchwarden Stubbs was carried off. in an attack of the Asiatic cholera.

Mr. Scrope, the Rector of Amberwell, and the leading magistrate of the district, hastily left the country, having taken away* with him the deposits out of the Savings' Bank of Tuddington, whereby many poor families were utterly ruined.

Another clergyman, a great friend and admirer of Rabshakeh, broke his neck a fox-hunting. This accumulation of misfortunes made Rabshakeh very desirous to quit Tuddington, and he wrote many urgent letters to a great friend, asking for preferment, but apparently without suc

cess.

In the mean time, the quarrel between the

*The Reverend Henry Small, of St. Albans, has lately committed this act of robbery.

Vicar and the parish daily increased; every demand made by the Vicar was resisted, and he was constantly in litigation with his parishioners. The whole parish at last unanimously refused to pay tithes any more; the greater part determined to follow the plan of the Quakers, by passive nonresistance, but several swore they would resist the sale of their goods by force. The Vicar, on his part, being fortified by Mr. Screw's opinion, determined to secure his rights, whatever the consequence might be. The constables, in seizing the furniture of a poor widow for tithe, were repelled and cruelly beaten; and when they returned with fresh force, under the command of the magistrates, after a very severe fight, in which a constable was killed, they were all driven back, and compelled to take refuge in the Vicarage. The Vicarage was stormed, and the Vicar, magistrates, and constables driven out of the parish.

The next day the magistrates and the Vicar returned into Tuddington with an imposing display of military force, from the barracks at Leeds, two field-pieces, and a large detachment of yeomanry. The people of Tuddington were not disposed to yield even to superior force; blood had been shed in the parish, one of their young men had died of the wounds received from the constables' staves, and his death seemed to have excited the whole population to madness. The Dissenting ministers

in vain endeavoured to calm the parish; the insurgents would listen to no advice, and, at last, became so angry at this interference, that they threatened to hang any man who should advise them to submit to their enemies. In this spirit they made barricades across the streets, and planted a tricoloured flag on the market-cross. The Riot Act

was read, and, after the time appointed by law, the military, not without much difficulty, stormed the barricades, and fired amongst the people. It is said that eleven were killed at the first discharge of the muskets and thirty wounded. The people were driven out of the market-place, but annoyed the soldiers by firing from the house-tops, or hurling heavy weights upon them. Seven dragoons were killed, and nearly a score badly wounded— several horses were killed. At last the superior skill of the military gained the victory, and the majesty of the laws was respected.

Whilst the battle was going on in the marketplace, a detachment of the most determined malcontents had gone round by a back lane and surrounded the Vicarage, which was left totally unprotected. The poor Vicar was taken prisoner : the rebels did not agree what to do with him; some proposed to hang him up on the bacon-hooks in the kitchen; others, averse to taking life, proposed binding him by an oath to quit the parish, to resign his charge, and never again to come into the