landed at Torbay, whence he marched to Exeter, setting forth declarations of the tyranny of James, the peril of the Church, and the deceit which he pretended was practised in making up the story of the birth of a son.

On the news of his landing, James joined the army at Salisbury, but was prevented from taking vigorous measures in consequence of an attack of illness brought on by anxiety and distress. He was overwhelmed with grief at the part taken against him by his subjects and even by his children. His daughter Anne, to whom he had been always most indulgent and affectionate, was led by her favourite friend, Lady Churchill, the wife of the ablest of his generals, to leave her house in London, to join the party of the Prince of Orange; and when he heard of her conduct, he burst into tears, exclaiming, "God help me, even my own children are deserting me!"

Finding that he could not trust even his army, he returned to London, to provide for the safety of his wife and child. A French gentleman, the Duke de Lauzun, offered to take them safely to Paris, and he gladly accepted the proposal. Late at night, Queen Mary Beatrice, attended by one lady, and a nurse carrying her babe, secretly left the palace of Whitehall, in a violent storm of wind and rain, and was rowed across the river to Lambeth. A coach was to have met them there, but it was not ready, and the Queen was forced to wait for it in the rain, only sheltered by the wall of Lambeth Church, Lauzun keeping watch over her. At last the coach arrived, and they were driven to Gravesend, where Lauzun had contrived that they should find a vessel, which conveyed them safely to France.

James was told by his ministers that he would act wisely in following them. Many a loyal heart still remained, willing to make every exertion in his cause, but he did not attempt to gather them round his standard. He secretly left his palace, throwing the Great Seal into the river as he went, and proceeded as far as Faversham; but he was there recognized, and obliged to return to Whitehall. While he was gone, there had been great disturbances

in London, which ended in the Lord Mayor and Aldermen holding a council, and sending to the Prince of Orange, promising to support him in his attempts to maintain their religion and liberty. The Prince sent a force of Dutch guards to take the king prisoner, and remove him to Rochester, but as he did not know how to dispose of him, he directed that he should be so negligently guarded that he might easily escape.

On the 23rd of December, 1688, King James left Rochester, and embarking for France, safely landed, and hastened to Paris, where he was honourably received by Louis XIV., who conducted him to his queen at St. Germain's, the same palace which had sheltered his mother in the long exile of his earlier years.

James having fled from his post, the Parliament took upon themselves the right of disposing of his crown, which they offered to William, Prince of Orange, and his wife, Mary Stuart, daughter to the dethroned king.

The change from James to William is called the English Revolution, and often termed "glorious" by those who consider that it was the only way of preserving our religion and liberty. The power which the king had hitherto enjoyed was greatly restricted, and, in fact, the constitution took the form under which we are at present living.

As soon as these arrangements were concluded, Mary arrived from Holland, and took possession of her father's palaces, without even restoring their clothes to the exiles. She was, of course, nearer to the throne than her husband, but she gave up her claim to him, and desired to have no more power than if she had been only a Queen Consort. Thus, though she is called Mary II. and her likeness was engraved on the coins and the Great Seal, the government was entirely in the hands of William. She seems to have been, in truth, what some verses of the time called her

“Too bad a daughter, and too good a wife;"

that is to say, she gave up her will so completely to her husband, as to forget that she owed any duty to her father,

On the evening of her arrival she sent to Archbishop Sancroft to desire his blessing, but the good old primate replied, "Tell her first to ask her father's; without it mine will profit her little." As Sancroft, Ken, and their companions, had shown their firmness in resisting the encroachments of James on the rights of the Church, they now showed unceasing loyalty to him as a king by refusing to acknowledge his usurping children as their sovereigns. The Archbishop would not crown the new king and queen ; and his faithful bishops and clergy continued to pray for King James, Queen Mary, and James, Prince of Wales. The new sovereigns, therefore, thrust them out of their sees, placing others in their bishoprics. Seven bishops were thus deprived, five of them being the same who had been committed to the Tower in the last reign.

It was the same with the bishops and clergy of the Church of Scotland. The first proceeding of William was to make the Presbyterianism of the Covenanters the religion established by law; and as the Scottish Church remained loyal to James, its members were made to suffer persecution, laws being enacted for inflicting penalties on clergymen who should read the service to any considerable congregation.

There was still a strong feeling in favour of James II. in Scotland, Ireland, and many parts of England, and had he shown more energy, he would probably yet have recovered his crown.

In Ireland, where most of the inhabitants were Roman Catholics, James made an attempt in person, and met with considerable success at first in the south; but in the north, where many old Cromwellian soldiers had settled, he was vigorously opposed. The gates of Londonderry were closed against his army by the apprentice boys of the town; and the inhabitants, under the command of a clergyman named Walker, made a most resolute defence, though reduced to the greatest extremity of famine. They were at length relieved by William's forces; and their chosen king himself coming to Ireland, on July 1st, 1690,

a battle was fought at the passage of the Boyne, between the uncle and nephew, which ended in the total defeat of James, who was soon after obliged to return to St. Germain's, where he died in 1701, after a banishment of thirteen years. His rights descended to his son, James Francis Stuart, or as the English chose to call him, “the Pretender," and his friends were called " Jacobites," from "Jacobus,” the Latin word for his name.-Adapted from the Kings of England.'

THE PLAGUE IN LONDON, A.D. 1664-5.

THE plague made its first appearance in London in November or December, 1664. The first case was in a house in Drury Lane, which is still standing. The infection was supposed to have come from Holland, in some packages of silk. It abated somewhat during the winter after its first appearance, but it broke out again in the spring, and continued raging with great violence in the summer and autumn. It seems to have been at its height in the month of September, 1665. Soon after that, the malignity of the distemper abated, multitudes who had been seized with it recovered, and the symptoms gradually disappeared in the course of the succeeding winter. It is remarkable that one of those who were employed, during the whole time, in the dangerous office of burying the dead, never once caught the infection. His wife, who was employed as a sick-nurse, also escaped. When the plague began to spread, a very great multitude left the city: so that, for some time, the roads round London were crowded with families fleeing into the country. Almost all business was at a stand. Houses where persons were infected were shut up, and a red cross marked upon the door, with these words written over it, "The Lord have mercy upon us." The streets were deserted, and grass was seen growing in many of those that were formerly

the most frequented. London might well be said to be all in tears; the mourners did not go about the streets, indeed, for nobody put on black, or made a formal dress of mourning for their nearest friends, but the voice of mourning was heard in all the streets. Tears and lamentations were in every house, especially during the first part of the visitation: for afterwards death was so constantly before men's eyes, that they did not concern themselves so much for the loss of their friends, expecting that they themselves would be summoned the next hour. At first, the dead were buried with the usual forms; but at length the number became so great, that neither coffins nor graves could be provided for them; and they were carried during the night in dead-carts, and thrown into pits dug for the occasion. Many consciences were awakened; many hard hearts melted into tears; many a 'penitent confession of crimes long concealed. The people showed an extraordinary zeal in their religious exercises. Many of the clergy were dead, and others had left the city; but such of the churches and meeting-houses as were still open, were crowded with people. Indeed the zeal they showed in coming, and the earnestness and affection they showed, in their attention to what they heard, made it manifest, what a value we would put on the worship of God, if we thought every day we attended church would be the last. And it is worthy of notice, that differences in religion were now little regarded. A near view of death reconciled men to each other, and made them forget those small matters about which they contend so eagerly when their situation in life is easy. It is impossible to express the changes which appeared in every countenance, when it was known that the plague had abated. Mutual congratulations and expressions of thankfulness to God were heard in the streets; and such was the joy of the people, that it was, as it were, life from the grave: though too many, it must be acknowledged, seemed to be but little sensible of their deliverance, or soon forgot it. From the Journal of the Plague.'