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much alarm, she found herself in safety, and out
of gratitude she gave this land to the parish-clerk,
on condition that he should ring one of the
church bells from seven to eight o'clock every
evening, except Sundays, commencing on the day
of the carrying of the first load of barley in
every year till Shrove Tuesday next ensuing
inclusive."

By his will, dated 29th August 1656, John
Wardall gave £4 yearly to the churchwardens of
St Botolph's, Billingsgate, 'to provide a good and
sufficient iron and glass lanthorn, with a candle,
for the direction of passengers to go with more
security to and from the water-side, all night long,
to be fixed at the north-east corner of the parish
church, from the feast-day of St Bartholomew to
Lady-Day; out of which sum £1 was to be paid to
the sexton for taking care of the lanthorn.' A
similar bequest of John Cooke, in 1662, has
provided a lamp-now of gas-at the corner of St
Michael's Lane, next Thames Street.

The schoolmaster of the parish of Corstorphine,
Edinburghshire, enjoys the profits of an acre of

LOSS OF THE 'ROYAL GEORGE.'

ground on the banks of the Water of Leith, near Coltbridge. This piece of ground is called the Lamp Acre, because it was formerly destined for the support of a lamp in the east end of the church of Corstorphine, believed to have served as 'a beacon to direct travellers going from Edinburgh along a road, which in those times was both difficult and dangerous.'*

EARL OF MARCH'S CARRIAGE RACE.

August 29, 1750, there was decided a bet of that original kind for which the noted Earl of March (subsequently fourth Duke of Queensberry) shewed such a genius. It came off at Newmarket at seven o'clock in the morning. The matter undertaken by the earl, in conjunction with the Earl of Eglintoun, on a wager for a thousand guineas against Mr Theobald Taafe, was to furnish a fourwheeled carriage, with four horses, to be driven by temporary authority thus describes the carriage: a man, nineteen miles within an hour. A con"The pole was small, but lapped with fine wire;

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especially in his efforts for the improvement of prisons, and originated a society for the relief of persons imprisoned for small debts. He married Elizabeth, daughter of John Camden, Esq., of Battersea, in Surrey, a direct descendant of the renowned antiquary of the same name. He died in 1814, and was buried at Chelsea.

John Camden Neild, the only surviving son of the above, was born in 1780, and after receiving a good classical and general education, was entered at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he took the degree of B.A. in 1801, and M.A. in 1804. He afterwards became a student at Lincoln's Inn, and in 1808 was called to the bar. Succeeding in 1814 to the whole of his father's property, estimated at £250,000, it was at first hoped that he would walk in the paternal footsteps, and prove a benevolent and public-spirited country gentleman. Soon, however, it began to appear that avarice was his ruling passion. His parsimonious spirit increased till he became a confirmed miser, and for the last thirty years of his life, it may be said that he was entirely given over to the accumulation of wealth. His habits and appearance became very peculiar. He lived in a large house in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea; but it was meanly and scantily furnished. At one time, it is said, he slept on a bare board, but latterly on an old stump-bedstead, on which he died. His favourite companion was a large black cat, which was present in his chamber when he breathed his last. He kept two female servants, one as housekeeper, whom he placed on low boardwages when he left home, and it was on such occasions that he gave the fullest scope to his penurious inclinations.

He had considerable property at North Marston, in Buckinghamshire, and here he often stayed for days together, besides his half-yearly visits to receive rents. As lessee of the rectory, it was incumbent on him to repair the chancel of the church, and this he did in a very original manner. On one occasion, the leaded roof having become full of chinks and fissures, he had them covered with strips of painted calico, to the number of forty, saying, 'they would last his time.' While these repairs were in progress, he sat all day on the roof, to keep the workmen employed, and even ate his dinner there, which consisted of hard eggs, dry bread, and butter-milk. It may be remarked that he seldom paid his workmen or trades-people without disputing their account, and protesting that they would ruin him with their high charges.

His

His dress, which was extremely old-fashioned and shabby, consisted of a blue swallow-tailed' coat, with gilt buttons, brown trousers, short gaiters, and shoes which were patched and generally down at the heels. He never allowed his clothes to be brushed, because, he said, it destroyed the nap, and made them wear out faster. stockings and linen were generally full of holes; but when he stayed a night at a tenant's, the mistress often mended them while he was in bed. On one occasion a night-shirt, which he accidentally left at a tenant's house, was found to be so tattered and rotten, that the mistress, finding repair impossible, burned it. His personal appearance was unprepossessing. He was short and punchy, scarcely above five feet in height, with a large round head, and short neck. He always carried

JOHN CAMDEN NEILD.

with him an old green cotton umbrella, but never, even in the coldest or wettest weather, wore a greatcoat, considering such a luxury far too extravagant for his slender means. Often has he been seen, in a piercingly cold winter's evening, entering Aylesbury on the outside of a coach without the slightest addition to his ordinary clothing; while a poor labourer, sitting by his side, appeared warmly clad in a thick greatcoat. His appearance on such occasions often excited the compassion of his fellow-travellers, who mistook him for a decayed gentleman in extreme poverty. Just before the introduction of railway-travelling, he had been visiting some of his Kentish property, when, as he was returning to London, the coach stopped at Farningham. It was a bitterly cold day, and, with the exception of Mr Neild, all the outside passengers, though well wrapped in greatcoats and rugs, entered the inn 'to take something to warm them.' As they sat in the comfortable parlour drinking their brandy and water, they saw with pity their thinly-clad companion still sitting on the coach. Thinking he only remained there in the cold because he was ashamed to enter the inn when he had no money to spend, they subscribed for a good glass of brandy and water, and sent it to the poor gentleman,' who drank it off, and thanked his benefactors for their kindness. He often took rather long journeys on foot, especially in Buckinghamshire, where he had estates in different parts, which he could not visit by any public

conveyance.

In these walking-journeys he never scrupled to avail himself of any proffered 'lift,' even in the dirtiest farm-cart, and he has been known to sit on a load of coal, to enable him to proceed a little further without expense; though, after all, he would probably give the driver a penny or two for the accommodation; for it is a fact that, miser as he was, he never liked to receive anything without paying for it, though his ideas of remuneration were certainly on a very restricted scale. When he called on the clergymen of the parishes where his estates lay, he always refused to partake of a meal or any refreshment; giving his declinature in a hasty, sharp tone, as if he had been annoyed or surprised at the invitation. With his tenants, especially those of a lower grade, the case was different. With one tenant, whose condition was scarcely above that of a labourer, he remained some days, sharing with the family their coarse meals and lodging. When business required his presence at North Marston, he used to reside with his tenant on the rectory-farm. While staying here about the year 1828, he attempted self-destruction by cutting his throat, and his life was saved chiefly by the prompt assistance of his tenant's wife, a Mrs Neal. This rash act was supposed to have been caused by a sudden declension in the stocks, in which he had just made a large investment.

During the year 1848, an enclosure was taking place in another parish in which he had a farm, and he often visited it to attend meetings on the subject. On these occasions he generally slept at Tring, or at the railway station, but ate his dinner at his tenant's. Before entering the house, he was often observed to walk up to the dairy-window, and stand on tip-toe to see what was within. He would then enter the house, and say to his tenant's

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wife: Could you let me have a basin of your nice
milk?' As he sipped it up, he would keep repeat-
ing: 'O how good, how rich! Have you any
eggs?' 'No, sir, but I can easily get some.' 'How
do they sell now?' 'Eighteen for sixpence, sir.'
"Then that will be three for a penny.
Will you
get me three?' The eggs were procured, and he
had two boiled very hard, and began to eat them,
asking for another basin of milk. The third egg
he put in his pocket for his breakfast next morning.
Sometimes he used to take out of his pocket some
sandwiches or bread and butter, and ask leave to
place them in a cupboard. Having deposited them
there, he would examine if they were safe every
time he returned to the house after an absence of
even half an hour. His Sundays he often spent in
walking over the farm with his tenant, who, by Mr
Neild's desire, used to carry a pickaxe for examin-
ing the quality of the soil at different places. He
used to investigate very minutely the nature of his
land, and the manner of its cultivation, and keep

an account of the number of trees on his estates.
He has been known to walk from twelve to fifteen
miles to a small portion of his property, and, after
counting over the few trees on it, to return the
same distance, with no other apparent object for his
journey. An idea of Mr Neild's extreme caution
in purchasing land, may be gathered from the
following extracts from his letters: Lot 3 is
described as "exceedingly rich grazing-land."
Does the tenant stock it with oxen or with
cows-and if with oxen, are they large or small
beasts? or does he dairy the land, and feed one
half and mow the other half?.... I have never seen
the close. . . . but I feel assured that if Mr
had an idea that I was desirous of purchasing it,
he would put such a price upon it as to render all
treaty for it nugatory; and therefore, until I can
see my way a little more in the matter than I do
at present, and until the mortgagees shall feel
themselves under an absolute necessity of selling
the estate, which they have a power to do, what
I have here written should not be suffered to trans-
pire, but be kept within ourselves.... Six hundred
pounds for little more than nine acres of land, and
of land, perhaps, not of first-rate quality, and sub-
ject to a corn-rent of in lieu of tithes, is a
long price; and the offer, suppose you feel inclined
to make it, can only at first be of a conditional
nature, for I must see the close (although you need
not tell Mr so) before anything can be con-
cluded,'

Some misers have occasional feasts, though, like angels' visits, short and far between. Such was the case with Mr Neild. Having some business with a clergyman (perhaps to his own advantage), he invited him to dine with him at an inn where he was staying in Buckinghamshire. On this occasion, he was both courteous and hospitable, having provided for their dinner a leg of lamb, a tart, cheese, beer, and a bottle of sherry. He also once invited another clergyman, with two or three other persons connected with his property, to dine with him at an inn in another Buckinghamshire town, and provided for the occasion quite a generous entertainment. But when the same clergymen applied to him for some charitable assistance for their parishes, to one he gave a very uncourteous refusal, and to the other he sent the following characteristic letter:

JOHN CAMDEN NEILD.

CHELSEA, April 24, 1852.

REV. AND DEAR SIR-When you last saw me, I was very infirm, and that infirmity has been increasing ever since, and still is upon the increase, until I am at last arrived at almost the last stage of decrepitude. I am confined to my bedroom, and cannot stir from my chair, except in exquisite pain. Without the summer shall work, I may say, on me a miraculous change, I do not expect ever to be at again.

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All that is wanting at and, indeed, in all parishes purely agricultural, is a Sunday-school. Mr Ptried to establish a daily school there, but did not succeed. I don't know that you are aware that where a daily school is established, it generally brings about with it a heavy pecuniary burden upon the clergyman; subscriptions, although ample at first, yearly fall off, are badly paid, and by degrees discontinued, until the whole charge, or nearly so, falls upon the minister; and then the school is necessarily discontinued. Such has been the fate of many of of one in Kent, the rector of the parish declining, on the parish schools in Bucks; and such, very recently, account of the charge upon him (as by letters he informs me), to superintend it any longer.

'You may suppose that, in the state in which I am, I do not see any one except upon business of a most urgent nature. Your most obedient servant,

J. CAMDEN NEILD.'

Mr Neild's ordinary answer to all applications for charitable contributions was a refusal; but in some few instances it was otherwise. He once, but only once, gave a pound for the Sunday-school at North Marston; he contributed £5 or £10 towards building a school at Aton Clinton, Bucks; he sent £50 to the Culham Training College; he was an annual subscriber to the London Asylum for the Blind; and he promised £300 towards the building of an infirmary for Buckinghamshire, but withheld it from an objection to the site. Thus it appears that Mr Neild, as a miser, did not quite reach the perfection of the character which we see displayed in Dancer, Elwes, and other examples of this deplorable kind of eccentricity. Neither was it true of him, as said in various obituary notices, that his mind had no intellectuality-that nature had no beauty or endearments for him-that he was a frigid, spiritless specimen of humanity.' Mr Neild, in reality, possessed considerable knowledge of legal and general literature; and, despite his narrow-mindedness on the subject of money, he retained to the last a love for the ancient classics, and enjoyed poetical pathos and elegant phraseology, both in ancient and modern authors. So late as the year 1849, the writer of this notice received from him a letter containing a Latin inscription, with his own comments on it, fully evincing his knowledge of the language, and his taste for refined and elegant diction, and even pointing out the exquisite tenderness of one idea, and the well-chosen words used to express it. Although he might not duly appreciate works of art or the beauties of nature, yet he was not blind to their charms, nor altogether devoid of a certain regard for them. There is one anecdote which, if true, as there is reason to believe it is, presents a pleasing contrast to his general character. It is said that, finding the son of one of his tenants an exceedingly clever boy, he persuaded his father to bring him up for one of the learned professions, and paid himself, either wholly or in part, the expenses of his school and college education. That boy is now a

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distinguished scholar, and a dignitary in the Church of England.

In February 1850, Mr Neild became subject to a very painful disorder, from which he suffered more or less to the end of his life. After that event, among those who were aware of his wealth, his will necessarily came to light, and great was the sensation which it occasioned. After bequeathing a few trifling legacies to different persons, he left the whole of his vast property, estimated at £500,000, to Her Most Gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria, begging Her Majesty's most gracious acceptance of the same, for her sole use and benefit, and her heirs, &c.' The executors were the Keeper of the Privy Purse, for the time being; Dr Henry Tattam, archdeacon of Bedford; and Mr Stevens, of Willesborough; to each of whom he bequeathed £100. He was buried, on 16th September,

according to his own desire, in the chancel of North Marston Church-in that very chancel which he had so elaborately repaired with strips of calico. His will had excited such curiosity that, though his life had passed almost unnoticed, a large concourse of persons assembled at Chelsea to witness the removal of his body, and the church and churchyard at North Marston were crowded with wondering-not lamenting-spectators. Among them were many of his tenants, of his workmen, and of the poor of the parish in which he possessed so much property; but not a tear was shed, not a regret uttered, as his body was committed to its last resting-place. He had done nothing to excite their gratitude, to win their sympathy, or to lay them under the slightest obligation. His property had passed into other hands, and they felt it was almost impossible they could suffer by the change. The only remark heard was: 'Poor creature! had he known so much would have been spent on his funeral, he would have come down here to die to save the expense !'

Two caveats were entered against his will, but subsequently withdrawn, and the Queen was left to take undisputed possession of his property. She immediately increased Mr Neild's bequest to his executors to £1000 each; she provided for his old housekeeper, for whom he had made no provision, though she had lived with him twenty-six years; and she secured an annuity on Mrs Neal, who had frustrated Mr Neild's attempt at suicide. Her Majesty has since, in 1855, thoroughly and judiciously restored the chancel of North Marston Church, and inserted an east window of beautifully stained glass, beneath which is a reredos sculptured in Caen stone, and bearing this inscription: This Reredos, and the stained-glass window above it, were erected by Her Majesty Victoria (D. G. B. R. F.D.) in the eighteenth year of her reign, in memory of John Camden Neild, Esq., of this parish, who died August 30, 1852, aged 72. The chancel, which was built by the offerings made at the shrine of Sir John Schorne, a sainted rector of the parish in the thirteenth century, is a fine specimen of the perpendicular style, at its best period. It contains sedilia, piscina, niches, &c.—all richly ornamented with elaborate sculpture, so that now, with these all carefully restored, and the addition of its elegant memorial-window, there is perhaps not a more handsome chancel to be found in any village church. The rest of the church, however, is of an earlier and a plainer style of architecture.

AUGUST 31.

JOHN BUNYAN.

St Aidan or Aedan, bishop of Lindisfarne, confessor, 651. abbess, beginning of 8th century. St Raymund Nonnatus, St Cuthburge, queen of Northumbria, virgin and confessor, 1240. St Isabel, virgin, 1270.

Born.-Caius Caesar Caligula, Roman emperor, 12 A. D., Antium.

Died.-Henry V., king of England, 1422, Vincennes, near Paris; Etienne Pasquier, French jurist and his torian, 1615, Paris; John Bunyan, author of the Pilgrim's Progress, 1688, Snowhill, London; Dr William Borlase, antiquary, 1772, Ludgran, Cornwall; F. A. Danican (Phillidor), noted for his skill in chess-playing, Sidmouth; Admiral Sir John Thomas Duckworth, 1817, | 1795; Dr James Currie, biographer of Burns, 1805, Devonport.

JOHN BUNYAN.

Everybody has heard of his birth at Elstow, about a mile from Bedford, in 1628; that he was bred a tinker; that his childhood was afflicted with remorse and dreams of fiends flying away with him; that, as he grew up, he danced, rang church-bells, played at tip-cat, and read Sir Bevis of Southampton, for which he suffered many stings of conscience; that his indulgence in profanity was such, that a woman of loose character told him he was the ungodliest fellow for swearing she had ever heard in all her life,' and that he made her tremble to hear him;' that he entered the Parliamentary army, and served against the king in the decisive campaign of 1645; that, after terrible mental conflicts, he became converted, a Baptist, and a preacher; that at the Restoration in 1660 he was cast into Bedford jail, where, with intervals of precarious liberty, he remained for twelve years, refusing to be set at large on the condition of silence, with the brave answer: If you let me out to-day, I'll preach again to-morrow;' that, on his release, the fame of his writings, and his ability as a speaker, drew about him large audiences in London and elsewhere, and that, a few months before the Revolution of 1688, he caught a fever in consequence of a long ride from Reading in the rain, and died at the house of his friend, Mr Strudwick, a grocer at the sign of the Star, on Snowhill, London.

Bunyan was buried in Bunhill Fields, called by Southey, 'the Campo Santo of the Dissenters. There sleep Dr John Owen and Dr Thomas Goodwin, Cromwell's preachers; George Fox, the Quaker; Daniel Defoe, Dr Isaac Watts, Susannah Wesley, the mother of the Wesleys; Ritson, the antiquary; William Blake, the visionary poet and painter; Thomas Stothard, and a host of others of greater or lesser fame in their separate sects. A monument, with a recumbent statue of Bunyan, was erected over his grave in 1862.

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It is a significant fact,' observes Macaulay, 'that, till a recent period, all the numerous editions of the Pilgrim's Progress were evidently meant for the cottage and the servants' hall. The printing, the plates were of the meanest description. In general, when the educated minority differs [with the uneducated majority] about the merit of a book, the opinion of the educated minority finally prevails. The Pilgrim's Progress is perhaps the only book about which, after the lapse of a

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hundred years, the educated minority has come!
over to the opinion of the common people.'

The literary history of the Pilgrim's Progress is
indeed remarkable. It attained quick popularity.
The first edition was 'Printed for Nath. Ponder,
at the Peacock in the Poultry, 1678,' and before the
year closed a second edition was called for. In the
four following years it was reprinted six times.
The eighth edition, which contains the last improve-
ments made by the author, was published in 1682,
the ninth in 1684, the tenth in 1685. In Scotland
and the colonies, it was even more popular than in
England. Bunyan tells that in New England his
dream was the daily subject of conversation of
thousands, and was thought worthy to appear in
the most superb binding. It had numerous admirers,
too, in Holland and among the Huguenots in France.
Envy started the rumour that Bunyan did not, or
could not have written the book, to which, with
scorn to tell a lie,' he answered:

'It came from mine own heart, so to my head,
And thence into my fingers trickled;
Then to my pen, from whence immediately
On paper I did dribble it daintily.

Manner and matter too was all mine own,
Nor was it unto any mortal known,

Till I had done it. Nor did any then

By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen,
Add five words to it, or write half a line
Thereof the whole and every whit is mine.'

was

Yet the favour and enormous circulation of the Pilgrim's Progress limited to those who read for religious edification and made no pretence to critical tastes. When the literati spoke of the book, it was usually with contempt. Swift observes in his Letter to a Young Divine: 'I have been better entertained and more informed by a few pages in the Pilgrim's Progress than by a long disCourse upon the will and intellect, and simple and complex ideas;' but we apprehend the remark was designed rather to depreciate metaphysics than to exalt Bunyan. Young, of the Night Thoughts, coupled Bunyan's prose with

JOHN BUNYAN.

D'Urfey's doggerel, and in the Spiritual Quixote the adventures of Christian are classed with those of Jack the Giant Killer and John Hickathrift. But the most curious evidence of the rank assigned to Bunyan in the eighteenth century appears in Cowper's couplet, written so late as 1782:

'I name thee not, lest so despised a name Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame.' It was only with the growth of purer and more Catholic principles of criticism towards the close of the last century and the beginning of the present, that the popular verdict was affirmed and the Pilgrim's Progress registered among the choicest English classics. With almost every Christmas there now appears one or more editions of the Pilgrim, sumptuous in typography, paper, and binding, and illustrated by favourite artists. Ancient editions are sought for with eager rivalry by collectors; but, strange to say, only one perfect copy of the first edition of 1678 is known to be extant. Originally published for a shilling, it was bought, a few years ago, by Mr H. S. Holford, of Tetbury, in its old sheep-skin cover, for twenty guineas. It is probable that, if offered again for sale, it would fetch twice or thrice that

sum.

A curious anecdote of Bunyan appeared in the Morning Advertiser a few years ago. To pass away the gloomy hours in prison, Bunyan took a rail out of the stool belonging to his cell, and, with his knife,

fashioned it into a flute. The keeper, hearing music, followed the sound to Bunyan's cell; but, while they were unlocking the door, the ingenious prisoner replaced the rail in the stool, so that the searchers were unable to solve the mystery; nor, during the remainder of Bunyan's residence in the jail, did they ever discover how the music had been produced.

In an old account of Bedford, there is an equally good anecdote, to the effect that a Quaker called upon Bunyan in jail one day, with what he professed to be a message from the Lord. 'After searching for thee,'

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