THE STREETS OF LONDON. 2J> 



quite unconscious of its existence ; and musing silently we winded our 

 way till the word " Savoy" caught his eye, and again turning from the 

 busy Strand we stood amidst the quiet of a back street in London. 



" We will revisit the Adelphi," he said, " and the buildings 

 nearly opposite, which occupy the scite of * the new Exchange,' 

 the resort of the gallant but licentious courtiers of Charles : I have a 

 story of the White Widow' for you, but the Adelphi makes me 

 melancholy, whether I think of it in my own secluded residence, or 

 with the situation before me." 



" With all my heart. Peter of Savoy, uncle of the queen of our 

 Third Henry, how many mutations has the place undergone, which 

 still retains his name ! It deserves our remembrance chiefly from the 

 splendour which the building attained during the chivalrous and 

 warlike reign of Edward III., when it became the residence of 

 John of France, a prisoner to the spear and shield of the Black 

 Prince." 



" Ay, and a subsequent period, the dwelling-place of John of 

 Gaunt, the patron of Chaucer, and defender of Wickliffe a name 

 distinguished in our annals above almost all others. He was a 

 noble and a generous patron ; and the poet seems to have lived on 

 terms of social intimacy with him, honourable alike to both parties. 

 His wife Philippa was sister to the celebrated Catherine Swynford, 

 the Duke's mistress, but subsequently his w r ife. It is rare that genius 

 is so fortunate in its alliance with greatness, as it happened with 

 Chaucer and the noble Lancaster : his fortunes indeed varied with 

 those of his protector, but their regard for each other appears to have 

 remained unshaken. For one man to have nurtured the father of 

 English poetry, and the father of our religious reformation, is a glo- 

 rious epitaph ; and this epitaph should be inscribed on a mausoleum 

 erected to the memory of John of Gaunt. It is this which makes 

 us linger over his character as sketched by Shakspeare as ** old John 

 of Gaunt, tirae-honour'd Lancaster." He shows him to us in extreme 

 age, when bowed down by wrong, and filled with gloomy anticipa- 

 tions ; bufr his vigorous intellect and love of his country survive 

 his weakened body. The language placed in his mouth by the 

 great poet of nature, is such as makes him a worthy companion of 

 Chaucer. 



' O but they say the tongues of dying men 

 Enforce attention like deep harmony. 



*##*** 



The setting sun, and music at its close 

 As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last. 



****** 



Methinks I m a prophet new inspired ' 



are fine bursts of poetry : and listen how elaborately he depicts the 

 * Ocean Gem' his country : 



' This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle 

 This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars 

 This other Eden, demi- paradise 

 This fortress built by Nature for herself 



