our attention the present state of the multifarious buildings which form what is called "the Tower;" but the historical associations of those buildings lead us to consider what the Tower ought to be as a great national monument. In detailing to the reader the course which we intend to pursue in the treatment of this subject, we shall also very slightly indicate our general views of what a government that rightly estimates the value of patriotic feelings ought to do in reference to any plan for the repair of the recent damage. The brief history which we have given of the progressive increase of the Tower has purposely avoided any notice of the surpassing historical associations which belong to this fortress. We reserve those for two or three successive papers. They will group themselves somewhat as follows.-We shall first regard the Tower as the ancient PALACE of the English Kings. All the fortress buildings which remain once constituted a portion of that Palace; for in the days of arbitrary power the notions of a Palace and a Prison were by no means dissociated. But the White Tower, especially, was a chief part of the Palace, with its Hall, its Chapel, its Council Chamber. Here some of the greatest events in English history took place. Here, Richard II. resigned his crown to Bolingbroke; the Protector Gloucester bared his arm before the assembled Council, and, accusing Hastings of sorcery, sent him within the hour to the block in the adjoining Court. What is the White Tower now? Its walls remain; but modern doors and windows have taken the place of the old Gothic openings; and within, the fine ancient apartments are divided and subdivided into various offices. The Chapel-one of the most striking remains of our early architecture, is fitted up as a depository of Records ;-and the vaulted rooms upon the basement are filled with military stores and gunpowder. To none of these places are the public admitted; nor, if they were, could they form any notion of the ancient uses of the building. It would be a wise thing in the Government to sweep away all that encumbers and destroys the interior of this edifice; and to restore it as far as possible to the condition in which it was at some given period of our history—in the time of Richard II. for example. And for what, it will be said,-to make a showplace? Unquestionably. There are buildings, or there ought to be, where Records could be better preserved, because more conveniently; but there is no building which can be shown to the people as so complete a monument of the feudal times, or which could be so easily restored to its former conditions. Let the people here see, as far as possible, what royal state was, three, four, or five centuries ago. Let one room be fitted up as in the days of Henry III.; another as in the times of the Wars of the Roses; and another as in the reigns of Mary and Elizabeth. During the last ten or fifteen years all the ancient armour of the Tower has been beautifully arranged, in a chronological series; and the visitor can understand better than by the best description what the warfare of our ancestors was,—and what were the appliances of their mimic war of tilts and tournaments. In the same way let them be instructed in the domestic history of their country, by walking under the same roof beneath which their old kings sate, surrounded with the same rude magnificence, the same mixture of grandeur and meanness, arras on the walls and dirty rushes on the floor. We would go beyond the restoration of the White Tower; and ask that "the Queen's Garden" of 1599 should be restored; and that the ancient courts, which have been destroyed that paltry houses may occupy their site, should again be formed, to show how power was obliged to hem itself round with defences, and how its commonest recreations were mingled with fears and jealousies which could never be removed till constitutional government was firmly established. In connexion with the palatial character of the Tower, the exhibition of the Crown Jewels should be regarded. They were formerly kept in a place more immediately appurtenant to the White Tower. Their history is united in the mind of every child in the kingdom with the daring attempt of Colonel Blood to steal them, in the days of Charles II. How easy would it be to restore the Jewel Office exactly to the condition in which it was in those days! Again, the Mint formed a part of the Tower as the chief ancient seat of royalty. The actual coining of money has been very properly removed to a more convenient building. But let one of the ancient towers be fitted up for the display of the former rude implements in the manufacture of money, and for the exhibition of the British coins and medals, from the Saxon penny to the coronation medal of Victoria. The "lions" departed from the Tower to die of the damps of the Zoological Gardens. But they were a part of the ancient regal magnificence, and we think they ought not to have been removed. We could wish again to see the living emblem of England in his ancient cell. The glory of the place seemed to us to have departed when the last old king of beasts left his massy stone dwelling in the Lion Tower, where his predecessors had dwelt for centuries with the kings of men-to take up with a wooden box, and to be fed by subscription. But there are more solemn lessons to be learnt at the Tower by people who go there for real instruction. It was the great STATE PRISON of England; and here the most illustrious victims in the world have suffered and perished. With the exception of a room or two in what is now called "Queen Elizabeth's Armoury," the public see none of the interesting remains which are full to overflowing with these sublime associations. The room whose walls are covered with the pathetic inscriptions of those who here waited for death-where we may actually look upon the lines which the delicate fingers of Lady Jane Grey traced in her solitude-is a mess-room for the officers of the garrison. The Beauchamp Tower, a most important prison, is inaccessible. Again, the chapel or church of St. Peter-the little building to the west of the large storehouse recently destroyed-is the burial-place of the most renowned victims of their own ambition, the jealousies of power, or the sad necessities of state, that have fallen beneath the axe, from the days of "poor Edward Bohun" to those of Lord Lovat. This chapel-perhaps, altogether, the place in all England most interesting in its associations—is fitted up with modern pews; and not a stone is there to tell who lies in that blood-tempered dust. What a noble work it were for a great nation to consecrate this chapel anew as a Temple of Toleration-to erect monuments here to every illustrious sufferer, whether Protestant or Catholic, Republican or Jacobite! During the contests in which they perished was slowly built up the fabric of our liberties, and, like the old bulwarks we have described, it is not now to be shaken by any common storm. The more the people are conversant with our national antiquities, and have an abiding historical knowledge impressed upon them by associations which all can understand, the more will the foundations of this fabric be strengthened. The last point of view in which we purpose to regard the Tower is that of an ARSENAL. A great deal has been very wisely done of late years to display and classify the many curious relics and spoils of war of the English army, from the days of Cressy to those of Waterloo. Some valuable things have been lost in the recent fire; but many of the most valuable have been preserved. We trust that, in any plans for repairing the destruction, the notion of making the Tower a depository for arms and stores for present use will be abandoned; but that in a few years may be here found the finest ancient Armoury in Europe. GREAT was the joy, magnificent the preparations at the Tower, that ushered in the morning of the 22nd of April, 1661-the day for the coronation procession of the restored Charles II. At an early hour the King came thither by water from Whitehall, attended by a crowd of nobles and gentlemen, among whom many a proud spirit dwelt with secret exultation in the realization of its longcherished hopes of the "golden round," and many a youthful heart beat fast with expectation as he thought of the event, more important to him than the coronation itself, of which it was but one of the incidental splendours-his installation as a Knight of the Bath. And, we may conclude, the King must have satisfied all reasonable expectations of this nature raised by the event, for he created in honour of the occasion no less than eleven peers and sixty-eight Knights of the Bath! The City also had its preparations for the day. Four triumphal arches VOL. II. P were erected in different parts-one representative of the King's landing at Dover, and the others of the consequences that were expected to flow therefrom, namely, Commerce, Concord, Plenty. As the hour for the procession drew nigh, the inhabitants of the houses from Tower Hill to the Abbey hung out their richest tapestry from the windows, and the livery companies lined the streets with their banners and bands of music. A cry of " They come!" is at last heard, and amidst a fresh burst of enthusiasm on the part of the bearers of those silken streamers waved so lustily to and fro, and of the musicians who din the ear with their countless instruments, the procession is beheld winding its slow length along. There are the law and other officers of the Crown, with the venerable-looking Judges; the newly created Knights of the Bath, clad in red mantles and surcoats, lined and edged with white silk, and trimmed with white silk strings, and buttons and tassels of red silk and gold;-these, with their ostrich plumes swaying gracefully to and fro at every motion of the wearers, make a gallant show ;— then come the great officers of the royal household, the sons of peers, peers attended by gaily emblazoned heralds, and officers at arms, the Lord Chancellor (Clarendon), the Lord Chamberlain, Garter King of Arms, the Lord Mayor, &c. Shouts of "The King! the King!" now announce the approach of the chief actor in the ceremony, who is seen surrounded by his equerries and footmen, preceded at some little distance by his brother, the Duke of York, and followed by the man to whom Charles was indebted for the Crown he was about to receive, Monk, Duke of Albemarle. Gentlemen, pensioners, and soldiers, horse and foot, occupied the remainder of the procession, which astonished every one with its magnificence. Indeed," writes a contemporary, and we presume eye-witness, "much wonder it created to outlandish persons, who were acquainted with our late troubles and confusions, how it was possible for the English to appear in so rich and stately a manner; for it is incredible to think what costly clothes were worn that day the cloaks could hardly be seen what silk or satin they were made of, for the gold and silver laces and embroidery that were laid upon them; besides the inestimable value and treasures of diamonds, pearls, and other jewels worn upon their backs and in their hats: to omit the sumptuous and rich liveries of their pages and footmen; the numerousness of these liveries, and their orderly march; as also the stately equipage of the esquires attending each earl by his horse's side so that all the world that saw it could not but confess that what they had seen before was but solemn mummery to the most august, noble, and true glories of this great day." If Master Heath, the chronicler, could have looked but a very little way forward into the future, he would have said less about "true glories;" but to his eyes, as to the eyes of a vast majority of the spectators, that future seemed a sunshine too dazzling to be curiously peered into, so they contented themselves with gazing upon the pageant as its visible type, and enjoyed the magnificence accordingly. And were it only from consideration of the old memories of the Tower, it was peculiarly fitting that the day should be thus solemnized with more than ordinary splendour, for it was the last of the kind the Tower was ever to see. With that day its palatial character may be : said to have ceased. For nearly five hundred years prior to this period had the Tower been a place of kingly residence, and for the best of reasons during a considerable portion of |