imagies of wex, hanging abowt the chapell, and have defacyd the same thorowly in exchuying of farthyr resort thedyr. Thys chapell dydde belong to Notley Abbey, and there always wasse a chanon of that monastery wich wasse callyd the warden of Caversham, and he songe in thys chapell, and hadde the offeringes for his living. He was accustomyd to show many prety relykes, among the wiche wer (as he made reportt) the holy dagger that kylled King Henry, [H. VI., who was then commonly believed to have been murdered, and popularly regarded as a sort of saint], and the holy kny fe that kylled sainte Edward [the martyr]. All thees, with many other, with the cotes of thys image, hyr capp and here [hair], my servant shall bring unto your lordschip's pleasure. I shall see yt made suer to the kings graces use. And, if yt be nott so orderyd, the chapell standith wildly that the ledde will be stolen by nyght, as I wasse servyd at the Fryars," at Reading, of which we have already heard. But the principal relic, though not mentioned in the above account, was the " spear-head that pearced our Saviour his side," which was brought to Caversham by the onewinged angel that was itself afterwards deposited at Reading Abbey. Dr. London says, that of the relics belonging to Caversham he "myssed no thing butt only a peece of the holy halter Judas was hangyd withall;" from which we may gather, what we might expect without it from the estimation in which they were held, that it was not an uncommon practice to secrete the relics when the commissioners were expected. I will end these extracts with his hint to Cromwell about the disposal of the place: "There ys a proper lodginge, wher the chanon lay,

with a fayer garden and an orchard, mete to be bestowyd upon som frynde of your lordschipp in these parties."*

Immediately below Reading the scenery is not very beautiful, but it improves as we advance. At first the river winds slowly along broad flat meadows, and the formality is increased by the railway embankment that for some distance runs by the river. But we soon lose sight of the railway, (and see no more of it till we reach Maidenhead, some fiveand-twenty miles farther,) and then the hills and groves of Sonning make the way pleasant before us. Sonning is said to have once been the seat of a bishopric, but the assertion is questioned by Bishop Tanner, and apparently with reason. But if not itself a diocese, it is certain that as early as the Conquest it belonged to one. The manor when the Domesday Survey was made was the property of the Bishop of Salisbury, and it has been attached to that see ever since. There was formerly a mansion here, which the bishops long used as an occasional residence. After the deposition of Richard II. his Queen Isabel was a prisoner at large in it. Leland ( Itin.' ii. 3) describes the house

**

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Wright's Letters relating to the Suppression of Monasteries,' published by the Camden Society, p. 222, &c. In this volume, and in the recently published volumes of Original Letters illustrative of English History,' by Sir Henry Ellis, are collected for the first time the letters of those who were chiefly concerned in the suppression, either as agents of Cromwell or as suitors for the property; and the student has here in a convenient and accessible shape the materials for forming a more vivid idea of the circumstances than he can readily do by any other means. Most of the letters were of course known to the student of history, but thus brought together their effect is very striking.

as being in his day "a fair olde house of stone, even by the Tamise ripe, longging to the Bishop of Saresbyri: and thereby a fair parke." Sonning itself he calls an "uplandish towne, sette on a faire and commodious ground; the Tamise renneth under it in a praty vale." Whatever it may have been, it is now only a small village, but it is a very delightful one. The Thames just before reaching Sonning bridge branches out and encompasses two or three large islets, which harmonize agreeably with the surrounding scenery. Sonning Ait is connected with the shores by a lock and a weir; on the Oxford şide are wide meads; from the Berkshire side, the thickly-wooded bank of Holme Park ascends abruptly. In the autumn, when the noble trees assume their richest vesture, and, with the fine bank which overhangs the river, are reflected in the still water, and the sky is lit-up in all the splendour of an October sunset, the scene is one of marvellous beauty. Holme Park, which is so great an ornament to the river, is well laid out, has a great number of magnificent trees, and affords from many parts of it some beautiful views both up and down the stream; the house, which is the seat of R. Palmer, Esq., is spacious and rather handsome. Sonning church is a respectable building, and has parts that are of a superior character: it contains some curious monuments. The parsonage is so pretty a one, has so pleasant an air of "refined rusticity" about it, and is so nicely situated, that one is half-tempted by it to forget the tenth commandment. Sonning is a quiet retreat for a London angler; there is a comfortable inn, and the river affords tolerable sport.

Below Sonning the scenery is tame, the only

relief being afforded by the hills about Shiplake ; but the village of Sonning, with the old churchtower overtopped by the tall trees, affords some pleasant retrospective glances. About Shiplake there are some choice walks, and the views from the uplands are extensive. The village itself, with the old ivy-covered church, looks very pretty from the opposite side of the river. The Rev. James Granger, the author of the well-known 'Biographical History of England,' was the vicar of Shiplake, whither, as he says in the dedication of his great work to Horace Walpole, he "had the good fortune to retire early to independence, obscurity, and content." He died at the altar while performing divine service on Sunday, April 14, 1776, and is buried in the church. His work is the result of much labour, and though a good many trivial names are admitted, it is valuable for the amount of curious anecdotal information which it contains, and which it would be difficult to find elsewhere.

Just below Shiplake the Thames receives the Loddon, a very pretty stream, which rises in the North Hampshire downs, near Basingstoke, and passes through the grounds of Strathfieldsaye, the seat of the Duke of Wellington, Shinfield, and Twyford, near the last of which places it enters the Thames, by two or three channels, after a course of about twenty-four miles. In its way it receives several tributaries, one of which rises near Windsor Forest, and is celebrated in Pope's story of Lodona, in his Windsor Forest.' Twyford, so called from the tway fords which crossed the two arms of the Loddon where are now the two wooden bridges, is a long village without any thing remarkable about it. Pope is said by some of his biographers to

have been for awhile at school here; no tradition of the circumstance is retained in the village, but it is not unlikely from the manner in which he speaks of the rivulet-"The Loddon slow with verdant alders crowned," which is much more characteristic of this than of the upper part of its course. At a little distance from the village is Bowsey Hill, famous in the neighbourhood for its wide prospects, and well worth ascending. Adjoining Twyford is Ruscombe, a little secluded village, where William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, died, and in the little church of which he was buried. Wargrave-on-the-Thames, not far beyond the farthest branch of the Loddon, was once a market-town, and is now a rather large irregular village, with some old and picturesque houses, and plenty of fine trees about it. Derham, the author of the admirable Astro-Theology,' and Physico-Theology,' was for some time the vicar of Wargrave; in the church is a monument to the memory of Thomas Day, the author of 'Sandford and Merton,' who died at Bear Hill just by, owing to a fall from his horse.

6

We have now reached that part of the Thames which is most celebrated for its beauty. The general voice proclaims the space between Wargrave and Maidenhead to be the finest along the river, and there can be no doubt that the opinion is correct. There are spots which we have past that may fairly be placed in comparison with almost any that we are coming to, but they are of a different and more homely character. The scenery about Maple-Durham is of the loveliest kind, but it is a succession of short reaches shut in by rich foliage, and only giving occasional glimpses of the hills be