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Irishman, and he became quite mute, and behaved himself very well during the rest of the journey.

At Chipping Norton, Henry and Maurice were very glad to take places vacated by the Miss Hodges's cousins; and then, as it was quite dark, and as the outside passengers began to glow in a warmer region, they fell asleep, and continued in that state till their sleep was interrupted by the cessation of motion, as the coach stopped in a small town through which they must needs pass.

"What place is this?" said Henry to his uncle.

"Woodstock," replied Mr. Dalben. "Ah! Woodstock !" said Henry. should I know of Woodstock?

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It is often mentioned in English history," replied Mr. Dalben. "Here old Chaucer, who is called the father of English poetry, wrote many of his poems. It is a very old town, and has in older days been the seat of kings. In 866, the Saxon Ethelred held a parliament here; and the great Alfred withdrew to this place to study. The park of Woodstock is said to have been the first park surrounded with a wall in England. In this park was a royal palace, in which Henry the Second greatly delighted."

"Yes," said Henry, "I remember now. This is Woodstock, near which fair Rosamond was poisoned. And is not Blenheim near it?"

"We shall presently pass by the gates of Blenheim-we are only now eight miles from Oxford," replied Mr. Dalben.

The coach at that moment set off again, and Henry said," Now I find myself drawing so near to Oxford I feel a kind of awe. I can fancy, uncle, that Oxford is a sort of strait which every man must ford before he can set his foot on the dry ground beyond; and you know, uncle, that the dry ground is the type of the visible church; and I feel, that if a man is not sure-footed, there may be a chance of his being carried down the stream in this dangerous strait."

"Let us mend your allusion," said Mr. Dalben "this strait is the Bosphorus, over which the ox, whose business it is to tread out the corn, and labour in the field of the church, must needs pass ere he can obtain his object; and woe to him if he takes not heed to himself whilst in the chops of the channel."

"Uncle," said Henry, "we have made it out very well, I think. But does the name of Oxford really mean Oxenford ?"

"It is so supposed," replied Mr. Dalben, " and answers to the German Ochinfort."

"Henceforward," said Henry, "I shall call it the Bosphorus.-But, uncle, is it the Cimmerian or the Thracian Bosphorus ?"

"What is the import of your question ?" asked Mr. Dalben; "there is more meant thereby, I perceive, than meets the ear.—Do you mean to make any allusion to Cimmerian darkness? Remember where you are now, or rather, where you are likely soon to be, and be very cautious with respect to what you say. Of course, we cannot suppose that there should be any sort of darkness in a place which has been the seat of learning ever since the reign of our great Alfred."

"Uncle," replied Henry, "if I could see your face, I should know what you mean."

"Mean," replied Mr. Dalben; "what should I mean? but look out at the window. See you not distant lights? We are drawing near the ancient and venerable city. I almost wish, Henry, that you were on the outside of the coach, that you might see more of it as we approach."

"I will get out,” replied Henry; and calling to the coachman, he soon established himself in the front of the coach with Maurice on one side of him.

It is said that the moon is always particularly observant of the motions of a hero; the appear

ing and disappearing exactly at those crises. of his affairs, when the exhibition or abstraction of her pale cold beams are best calculated to heighten his feelings, let their character be what they may. In compliance with this ancient observance of the orb of night, at the moment in which Henry had settled himself in this exalted situation, a dark cloud, which had for some time rested above the towers of this northern Bosphorus, rolled away; and, in consequence, the moon, though she had not filled her horns on this great occasion, shone forth in cloudless majesty, giving the spires, the towers, the domes, and academic groves of the splendid city, the most favourable opportunity of exhibiting their beautiful outlines in the horizon.

As the coach rolled on, these splendid outlines neared upon the sight, and Henry uttered not one word, whilst several persons about him were talking volubly, and the coachman was exhibiting his knowledge of localities with that sort of self-satisfaction which persons of this description commonly exhibit before strangers.

"Look to your right, gentlemen," said he; "there is the observatory-and now we are in St. Giles's-street ;-and there is St. John's College-and now we are fairly in the city, and a noble city it is: it has not its equal in the world

-and now we are in Carfax; and this, gentlemen, is the High Street."

"The High Street," thought Henry, “Oh! how much have I heard of the High Street ;" but it was nearly midnight and not a gownsman was to be seen, or scarcely another person; and the moon beams rested, pale and cold, on the beautiful and venerable front of University College. Mr. Dalben had desired to be set down at the Angel, an inn which he had always been in the habit of frequenting; and Henry's head was still in a whirl, when the coach stopped, and he was called upon to alight. Having taken care of their small baggage, they were ushered into a parlour, where a fire was burning brightly; and having taken some refreshment, Mr. Dalben ordered beds, and they all retired; the good old gentleman taking so much care of the little Irishman, as to give him his supper at a side table, and to have a bed provided for him in his own room.

Before Henry and George went to sleep, they settled to be up at seven o'clock, and go over to rout up Marten, who was to be found in the College nearest to the inn-which circumstance they had ascertained from the waiter, for Marten and Edgar Bonville were both together; but, alas! it was nine o'clock when Henry first opened his

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