tion was by a ladder, and, having inspected the kitchen, the Prince proceeded to ascend. As he was doing so one of the denizens, by way of a joke, pinched his calves, which were encased in silk stockings. The Prince was so alarmed that when he reached the top he fainted in Townshend's arms, "which, gentlemen," Townshend, with a strange look in his eye, would always add, "was a five-pound note in my pocket."

My father's office was at Hatton Garden, where during thirty years he made acquaintance with some of the choicest criminals in London. There were three magistrates in all, Serjeant Sellon, who was very deaf, and for some reason which I cannot now imagine lived in the Chapter House of St. Paul's, Mr. Laing, and my father. Each magistrate had two days holiday a week, and on the other four days took part, either as chairman or under the chairmanship of one of his colleagues, in the business of the court. My father's days were Monday and Wednesday, when he heard the night charges sitting alone, and then, till three or four o'clock, acted as presiding magistrate in the more serious cases. On these days he also attended the office from seven to eight in the evening-men dined at five sixty years ago—and disposed summarily of persons arrested on trivial offences. On two other

days in the week he sat under the presidency of Serjeant Sellon or Mr. Laing. The Serjeant's infirmity made matters far from pleasant, but Laing's boorishness was much less tolerable.

Laing had fallen foul of the reporters, and when there was any pause in the business he used to turn them out of the court. There was but one waiting-room, and the gentlemen of the press had consequently to mingle with the unsavoury crowd of witnesses and loafers. My father strongly disapproved of this, and when he presided always asked the reporters to remain, for he found it more agreeable to talk to them than to listen to the growlings of Laing. The result was that, though far from courting popularity, he was often held up to public admiration as a most righteous judge, while Laing was never spared. Laing's final chastisement was received at the hands of Charles Dickens, to whom he involuntarily sat for the character of Mr. Fang in "Oliver Twist," and by whom his conduct was commended to "the special and particular notice of the Secretary of State for the Home Department."

The climax was, I believe, reached in this way. Whether Dickens's estimate was too extravagant or not, Laing in private life was of a distinctly festive nature. He had been dining one evening at the Wykehamist Dinner, and passing through a side street on his way back to the Temple was accosted by a man who called out "There goes old Laing." The magistrate's post-prandial dignity was offended, and he prodded the man with his umbrella. A scuffle ensued, and the originator of the row was taken to the lock-up in Bow Street. Next morning he was brought up before Sir

Frederick Roe, but no prosecutor appeared. A messenger was sent to Hatton Garden begging Laing to come without delay, but he persisted in refusing to attend. The case was dismissed, the newspapers took the matter up, Laing had to defend an action for false imprisonment, and his career on the stipendiary bench came to a close. It was said that the man whose ejaculation had brought about the trouble was afterwards convicted of burglary, and that Laing, being a Middlesex magistrate and having plenty of time on his hands, was in the habit of visiting Coldbath Fields Prison and watching his enemy on the treadmill.

In September 1830 I went to Eton. My father had gone when he was a little over six. He had been a contemporary of Keate, who was then Head Master, and of Thomas Carter, who had just been elected Vice Provost, whose son, William Adolphus Carter, formerly Lower Master and now one of the few remaining Fellows, afterwards married my youngest sister. I was placed in the Fourth Form, not so much, I fancy, on account of my attainments, as because of my father's friendship with Keate. I boarded at Horsford's, and was lodged in a room. overlooking Barne's Pool. There were twenty-four boys at my dame's, several of whom, according to the custom of those days, had private tutors. I remember that William Selwyn, who had just been scoring some brilliant successes at Cambridge, where he subsequently became Lady Margaret Professor

of Divinity, acted as private tutor to the Duke of Rutland, then Marquis of Granby, and his brothers Lord John and (the late) Lord George Manners.

Keate reigned and ruled during my first four years. If he had favoured me by putting me in the Fourth Form, I soon had a set-off. I was coming one morning from the Christopher, buoyantly bearing a plate of sausages (seven for sixpence) swimming in grease, and covered with another plate to keep them hot. Meat for breakfast in Keate's eyes was one of the deadly sins, and when, sailing along in full canonicals, he recognised me, he proceeded to appropriate the spoil. Summoning a labourer who was passing, he was about to give it to him when I said, "If you please, sir, the plates belong to the Christopher." Keate was equal to the occasion. "Poor man," he said, "hold your hat," which the poor man did, and the ownership of my sausages, grease and all, was thus transferred. The plates were delivered back to me. "You will stay at eleven" for the first time greeted my ears, and the just reward of my iniquities was meted out in due form a few hours later.

I will not detail all the similar interviews I had with Dr. Keate, but there was an occasion when I formed one of a considerable company which made acquaintance with the block and birch. Nine boys

at my dame's had planned an early morning expedition to Maidenhead. We got out of a window soon after five, rowed up in an eight-oar, and partook

liberally of rum and milk. We returned in time for absence, but Keate, much to our dismay, told each of us as his name was called to "stay after." We were all flogged forthwith, except Lord Granby, who pleaded that his body was not physically in a condition to receive punishment. Keate accepted the excuse, saying, "Lord Granby, you may go, but I shall remember you." He was as good as his word, and flogged him the last thing before the holidays. We found out afterwards that Mother Middleton had suffered all night from a raging toothache, and as by way of distraction she was looking out of the window, saw our escape and reported it.

There are stories innumerable about Keate's floggings. I will tell but one On a certain holiday five boys presented the following note:

"Colonel Smith presents his compliments to the Rev. Dr. Keate, and will feel obliged if he will allow his nephew George and his four friends to spend the day with him in Windsor.-I remain, your faithful servant, GEORGE SMITH."

Keate repeated slowly, "I remain, your faithful servant, George Smith;" and adding, "All go in there," waved the impostors into the library. The result was as usual.

Keate's method of government has become historical. He ruled by physical force, which perhaps did no great harm.

But his tone of suspicion had a bad effect