and pulled down all passers-by, desiring money
to be laid out in pious uses. (?) And the fine
old Coteswold Hills had a grand annual solemnity
every Whitsuntide, which, however, was
chiefly remarkable to us, as showing the origin
of the mace, which, to judge by analogy, was
originally a rod, as now, filled with spices and
perfumes at the top, for the king, lords, and
dignities to smell at. Not an unnecessary
practice in those days of foul odours, and dirt and
disease consequent thereon, and taking its rise,
most probably, from the same cause as the rue
and bitter herbs of the prisoners' dock.

The men of Gotham are proverbial, and this is
why they are so. King John, going by Gotham
on his way to Nottingham, desired to pass
through some meadows, but the wise men of the
village prevented him, thinking that, once as
king's highway, the road would be as king's
highway for ever, and so they would lose their
meadows. King John was very angry at the
impudence of these Gothamites, and sent his
messengers to inquire into the reason of their
rudeness, and otherwise report on what they
heard and saw, to the end of better devising the
punishment befitting. "So," thought the wise
men, "our best plan will be to appear a race of
fools, when surely the king's heart will be
softened, and our offence will be forgiven."
Accordingly, the king's messengers found some
of the villagers trying to drown an eel in a pond;
some, dragging carts upon a large barn to shade
the wood from the sun; some, laboriously
tumbling cheeses down hill to find their way
to Nottingham for sale; and some, trying to
build a wall round a cuckoo which had just
perched on a cuckoo bush. Then the king's
anger was diverted, for were they not all
irresponsible idiots? And the wise men of Gotham
became raised to the rank of a proverb, as they
deserved to be.

Do the present owners of any manors spoken
of in this paper desire to part with the whole or
part of them? If so, they will be glad to have
the form for "an absolute conveyance of all
right and title therein," as given in Symonds's
Mechanics of Law-making:

"I give you all and singular, my estate and
interest, right, title, claim, and advantage of and
in that orange, with all its rind, skin, juice, pulp
and pips, and all right and advantage therein,
with full power to bite, cut, suck, and otherwise
eat the same, or give the same away as fully and
effectually as I, the said A. B., am now entitled
to bite, cut, suck, or otherwise eat the same
orange, or give the same away, with or without
its rind, skin, juice, pulp, and pips, anything
hereinbefore, or hereinafter, or in any other deed
or deeds, instrument or instruments, of what
nature or kind soever, to the contrary, in any
wise, notwithstanding."

That the wise men of Gotham drew up the
form of conveyance used in English law does
not, I think, admit of a doubt. Indeed, I should
imagine they had been consulted on very nearly
every point of law or custom mentioned in this
paper, and that their voices had drowned the
words of the few foolish men who would, if they
could, have made laws simple, rights equal, and
mere humanity of more regard than sceptres,
crowns, royal robes, or patents of nobility.

UNDERGROUND LONDON.

CHAPTER IV.

MY friend Agrippa, with all his practical
experience, anecdotes, and attentiveness, did not
appear to me to be what is called "exhaustive"
on the subject of old sewers. His stories
wanted the fine full flavour that only age can
bring, and his experience was entirely confined
to the north side of the river. While the
underground channels of the sunny south remained
unexplored, I could not have felt that I had
done my duty to my employers—the public. I
should have been haunted by a suspicion that I
had left many stories and features buried in the
old borough of Southwark and its surrounding
districts, which would be as seasoning pepper to
far more statistics than I think proper to
offer. Going to the Guildhall Museum, and
seeing a piece of wood found in the
neighbourhood of St. George's-fields in excavating
the great Duffield Sewer, and which was labelled
as being part of one of the piles of King Canute's
trench, made in May, 1016, my curiosity about
the southern sewers was naturally stimulated.
While I gave those who hold the keys of
Underground London to understand that I was not
dissatisfied with the King's Scholars' Pond
Sewer, I plainly told them that my appetite for
information on sewer subjects was not yet half
gratified.

A friendly official statement, that no length of
covered main sewer on the south side was more
than fifty years old, failed to damp my ardour.
The reports of Mr. Gwilt and Mr. I'Anson,
technically interesting as they undoubtedly were,
only told me that most of the old sewers were
anciently mill-streams and monastic
watercourses; and that the whole southern valley
district is under high-water mark—in some
places as much as five feet. I went into various
old sewers on the south side, which, in
consequence of their peculiar geological position, can
only be entered when the tide is low. In one I
saw a barrow that had been washed down from
some opening in the road at some higher point;
and I heard of a bedstead that had been picked
up in the flood not many months before. The
theory was, that it had been carried away by
a heavy rain-storm from some yard or garden
on the Surrey Hills, plunged into the sewers
where they still form open ditches, and streamed
down the tunnels towards the Thames. I was
told of many dead children that had been
picked up on this side of the river, in the same
manner; along with washing-tubs, mops, water-
butts, and trunks of trees. In one old sewer
under the Blackfriars-road, not remarkable for
its purity or its freedom from chemical refuse,
I saw a cluster of mushrooms on the roof
that were almost as large as ordinary soup-
tureens.