the flag-staff of the castle is placed. This is the tower in which James I. of Scotland was kept a prisoner; but the chambers, like all the rest of the noble edifice, are now fitted up with all the luxury and comforts of the British court. On the left, I have a view of the wing near the grand entrance, and on the right, of the extensive wing, lighted by lofty Gothic windows, which is assigned for the use of the Emperor of Russia. Under the influence of the mid-day sun, and of a clear and cloudless sky, the whole presents a most charming picture, and being now in my own chamber, free from all the bustle and ceremony of a reception at the castle, and feeling myself forgotten by the world, I availed myself of the leisure and quiet which it afforded to impress the scene upon my memory, and to realise it for the future, by taking a hasty sketch in oils of this remarkable locality. This was, to me, a peaceful and most comfortable hour. "In the evening dinner was served upon the most splendid scale—even of royal magnificence. What rooms, what pomp, what brilliancy and splendour; the fairy tales realised before my eyes, and all this in an old gray weather-beaten castle! "Covers were laid for sixty persons, and all were served upon gold. Dr R., the physician of the Emperor of Russia, who sat next to me, told me that such an entertainment was unparalleled even in Petersburgh. "After dinner I was presented to the Emperor of Russia, who was pleased to converse with me cheerfully for a few minutes in French. An autocrat in every movement! He immediately brought to my mind Egypt and its arts! * "The entertainment of to-day was as splendid as that of yesterday. The only difference consisted in a little variety in the music, which was interrupted by an interlude from a Scotch piper, in full Highland costume, who marched round the table, and brought the shrillest, sharpest, and most booming tones that mortal ears ever listened to, out of his bagpipes and their drone, which projected far over his shoulder, and was adorned with glittering flags. In recent Italian operas-in some Rolla' or Linda' I have often heard such sounds as have compelled me to exclaim, Can this be what people call music!' but this was something still more dreadful, which no form of apostrophe could characterise! And the man, too, was a virtuoso!-The queen's piper! There is unquestionably an immense difference in the organisation of the hearing, however difficult it may be to demonstrate. This execrable sound was only endurable when he played in distant rooms, and his wonderful piercing blasts only reached the ear from afar-like echoes among mountains, "This is, however, not the only proof that the English are prone to mistake mere noise for a species of music; it is confirmed by the chimes of the castle, which morning and evening produce the most disagreeable effect upon a musical ear. "After dinner there was a concert, at which a clever violinist, named Joachim, exhibited his power over his instrument. When the hour for retiring arrived, I went alone through the series of magnificent apartments and the long richly-adorned gallery, with its numerous interesting paintings, to my own solitary chamber. Every thing was still brilliantly lighted-what riches every where displayed! Immense malachite vases, golden candelabra, the splendour of the furniture and draperies, the large golden vessel, like a small bath, which was filled with spiced wine at the baptism of the Prince of Wales, and entirely emptied; the glass cases filled with ancient splendid weapons, swords, chain armour, beautifully ornamented pistols, guns, and daggers, which called up and forced all sorts of recollections on the mind. I gave way to this train of thoughts, and dwelt on the olden times of England, on Elizabeth, Essex, and the Earl of Leicester." | tainment of the emperor; a number of royal carriages were driven into the court of the castle-horses were led out adorned with magnificent housings and highlyornamented bridles, and the roar of artillery was heard from afar. A little later came the general officers and their staff;-the emperor, the king, Prince Albert, and the Duke of Wellington, all dressed in rich uniforms, mounted splendid chargers, and it was, indeed, a royal sight to see such cavalcade in the large court of the castle, within the circuit of those gray towers and Gothic palaces crowned with turrets. Then came the ladies;— the queen, accompanied by the Duchess of Cambridge, entered her carriage, and all was put in motion. I, too, found a convenient place in one of the carriages; the whole cavalcade passed the gates, and took the way towards the great park, entered and passed along the long walk, through the midst of vast numbers of spectators collected from far and near. At length we arrived at an extensive open hilly plain, surrounded with old oaks;-wooded hills bounded the horizon, and Windsor Castle in the distance formed a beautiful background. Here the cavalry were drawn up, the carriages took their stations, and the horses were taken out just as the firing of the artillery commenced. At some distance opposite several regiments of infantry were in line, and at the first salute of artillery the whole of the general officers, who had taken up their position in the middle of the plain, put themselves in motion, rode to the infantry, and along the lines. Having examined the troops, the staff returned near the place not far from us, in which the ladies were stationed, and the men now began to defile, regiment by regiment, first the cavalry and then the infantry. Prince Albert was at the head of his regiment, and the Duke of Wellington with his; he was greeted by the people with loud cheers. The horse guards were especially splendid; their band clothed in yellow with red and gold, wearing, besides, a species of ancient heraldic coat, looking magnificently rich. The kind of black velvet jockey-caps, however, which they wore, appeared to me totally unsuited to such a costume. There is no need to say, when speaking of England, that the horses were admirable. The troops then passed a second time in quick march, formed squares, performed various evolutions, and exhibited a sham-fight, during which there was a continued fire of small-arms, mixed with the deep roar of the artillery. At last all resumed their original positions, when the emperor rode forward at a short gallop to the commanding general, pulled up in good style close before him, and shook him heartily by the hand, as a sign of his warmest approbation. Thus, in the course of about two hours, favoured by fine weather, the review was over. Multitudes of anxious spectators clambered down from the oaks, which had been converted into so many observatories. The people separated in all directions, and the royal cavalcade returned to the castle. "In the evening, a grand drive through the park took place. Prince Albert drove the emperor; the king and the Duke of Cambridge accompanied the queen and the duchess. I was fortunate enough to have a scat in the carriage with General von Adlerberg, who is usually called the emperor's right-hand man, and renewed an old acquaintance, which I had formed with him when consulted many years ago respecting his son, whom he now presented to me in vigorous health. The drive furnished me with a good opportunity of forming a still more accurate idea of the great extent of the park, for at the rapid pace at which we were driven, in a few hours we passed over at least two or three-and-twenty miles within the bounds of the park itself. "The first object we visited was an elegant, small, and new garden belonging to the queen, admirably adapted for fruit trees of all descriptions. The cortège next proceeded to a very wild part of the park, distinguished by magnificent beech trees, growing in all the luxuriance of nature, and forming beautiful bowers of foliage, and huge oaks, affording here and there charming vistas and views of Windsor Castle; from thence the party pursued their way to Virginia Water. This part of the park much more resembles what is called a park among us than any thing which I have seen in this country--a wide artificial canal (formerly excavated by French prisoners), with occasional waterfalls, thickets, grass-plots, and banks for repose; and finally, as the crowning of the whole, a large antique ruin, and not far from it, at the extremity of the water, a small castle mounted with ships' guns. The antique ruin surprised me by its peculiar style, as it sprang forth with its colonnade, single statues, recumbent capitals, and old walls thickly covered with ivy, from the midst of the green woods and surrounding cedars and pines. I heard from Prince Albert, that all these ruins really came from Athens, had been brought thither by Lord Elgin, and were placed absolutely in very much the same condition as they had been found in their original home. There was, however, a painful want of the charms of a Grecian sky, for a covering of dark gray brilliant age, and of a country with an almost cloudless sky. "After a very short delay on the platform of the miniature castle, the cortège was again in motion, and drove to a small fishing house, built in the Chinese style, and fitted up with ornamental galleries for angling, a general English dilettanti taste. A small and elegant bark rocked upon the waters, and at a greater distance a beautiful model of a complete frigate. clouds now brooded over the remains of these tenants of a which they contended earnestly are despised-the principles they died to maintain derided as follies, or rejected as mischievous-and yet their name will not die, their memory lives among the people. Of this class is Thomas à Becket. Who among the lord chancellors or primates of England, for two centuries before or after him, holds half so prominent a place in the eye of the public? And yet how few are there in the present day who will sympathise with the principles and aims, how few approve of the mode of attaining them, pursued by this extraordinary man? For three centuries Becket was reverenced as a saint in England, and the usual legendary tales adorned his origin. Not content with prophetic dreams and oracular expressions, a romantic story was invented to dignify his birth. His father, Gilbert Becket, whom history describes as a merchant in London, of moderate wealth, and of the conquered and despised race of the Saxon, was said to have gone on a crusade to the Holy Land. There he was taken prisoner by an Eastern Emir, whose daughter fell in love with him, and, when he "Whilst George IV. was engaged in the extensive re-escaped and returned home, resolved to follow him. parations in Windsor Castle, he resided long and will- She knew no words of any western tongue save ingly in the park, and many of these artificial grounds owe their origin to his taste or pleasure, as well as the Gilbert, her lover's name, and London the place of his abode; yet by these she sought him out in Cheapside, and, having been converted to Christianity, became his wife. Though adopted by Turner and Thierry, this story is rejected by Lord Campbell, who says that his mother was certainly of the same Saxon race with her husband. Thomas à Becket was their only child, and born at London in the year 1119. Being destined for the church, he was educated, first at Merton Abbey, in Surrey, and then in the schools of London. He afterwards completed his studies at Paris, where he got rid of his English accent, and, besides a full stock of philosophy and divinity, became a proficient in all military exercises. small house to which the party now proceeded, which is a sort of compound of summer-house, tent, and richly- "It was drawing towards evening when we returned to the castle, where there was to be to-day a full dress dinner party on a large scale. The company was very numerous, and presented to my notice several interesting individuals whom I had not seen before. Sir Henry Hardinge, about to sail in a few days to act as governorgeneral of the immense Indo-British kingdom, was present; also Lord Saltoun, who was just returned from China; farther, Lord Aberdeen, a peer of Scotland, equally celebrated for his statesmanship and learning, who has gained for himself general esteem, and whose appearance reminded me, in several respects, of our late respected minister, Von Lindenau; and moreover the now all-powerful Sir Robert Peel, and the whole of the corps diplomatique. After dinner I enjoyed the still greater good fortune of being presented to H. R. H. the Duchess of Cambridge, and of being able to bring to her recollection many circumstances of Dresden life." THOMAS A BECKET. Or the great mass of names that pass before the eye of the reader in the pages of history, only a few retain a permanent place in his memory. This is not only true of the records of foreign countries, but also those of our own land. Many individuals who filled an important part in the estimation of the public in their own time, and strutted their little hour on the stage of life, busy, as they thought, with immortal affairs, have now altogether vanished from the remembrance of common readers, and are hardly known even to the learned and laborious lovers of antiquarian lore. But there are another class of characters over whose name time and oblivion seem to have no Their contemporaries are forgotten-their enemies and opponents neglected-the objects for power. On his return home he held a place in the office of the Sheriff of London, and, in company with a Norman baron, spent much time in racing, hunting, and hawking. Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury, was his next patron, and, having made him take deacon's orders, conferred on him several livings. By him he was then sent to the University of Bologna, where he perfected his knowledge of the civil and canon law. On his return to England he was made Archdeacon of Canterbury, and, in a mission to Rome, recovered to that see the legantine power, of which it had been deprived. In 1153 he succeeded in a delicate mission regarding the succession to the crown; and by this acquired the favour of Henry II., who was peaceably proclaimed king on the death of Stephen in the following year. He became the close companion of the king, not only in his military exercises and field sports, but, it is to be feared, in revelries hardly consistent with his clerical character. Soon after he was appointed chancellor, and filled the post with great dignity and splendour. "Tall in stature, with a placid, handsome, and commanding countenance, his figure pleased the eye; while his subtle reasonings, his polished elocution, and facetious gaiety, won the heart." To the Saxons he was peculiarly dear, as the first of their race who, since the Conquest, had risen to this high dignity, and who was not ashamed to proclaim himself the protector of his oppressed kinsmen. His secretary, Fitzstephen, gives a very graphic picture of his habits, and of the manners of the period in which he lived. He kept open house, and hardly ever sat down to dinner without earls and barons whom he had invited. "He ordered the Of the intimacy of the king and his chancellor, Fitzstephen tells this characteristic story. "One cold wintry day they were riding together through the streets of London, when they observed an old beggar man coming towards them, wearing a wornout tattered garment. Said the king to the chan- | cellor, Do you see that man? How poor! how wretched how naked he is! Would it not be a great charity to give him a thick warm cloak?' Great, indeed,' said the chancellor; and you, as a king, ought to have a disposition and an eye for such things. Meanwhile the beggar comes up; the king stops, and the chancellor along with him. The king, in a mild tone, addresses the beggar, and asks him, 'If he would like to have a good cloak?' The beggar, not knowing who they were, thought it was all a joke. The king then said to the chancellor You, indeed, shall have the grace of this great charity; and putting his hands on a very fine new cloak of scarlet and ermine, which the chancellor then wore, he struggled to pull it off, while the chancellor did his best to retain it. A great scuffle and tumult arising, the rich men and knights who formed their train, in astonishment hastened to find out what sudden cause of contest had sprung up, but could gain no information: both the contending parties were eagerly engaged with their hands, and seemed as if about to tumble to the ground. After a certain resistance, the chancellor allowed the king to be victorious, to pull off his cloak, and to give it to the beggar. The king then told the whole story to his attendants, who were all convulsed with laughter. There was no want of offers from them of cloaks and coats to the chancellor. The old beggar man walked off with the valuable cloak, enriched beyond his hopes, rejoicing and giving thanks to God." Such were the rude and boisterous manners of the times. But Becket did not forget his duties at home, and, when necessity required, in foreign countries. In 1158, he went on an embassy to the French court, attended by about two hundred persons, knights, priests, and squires, all on horseback, and completely armed. A train of waggons and sumpter horses, loaded with furniture, plate, and various presents; mastiffs, monkeys, harriers and other hounds, with a numerous band of attendants, made up the singular cavalcade. He then concluded a treaty for the marriage of the infant son of his sovereign with a French princess, but long before its celebration, the two monarchs were engaged in mutual hostility. Becket now appeared in a new character; he led his followers to the field, and Louis being shut up in Toulouse, offered to head a party in storming the town. Henry, owing to some scruple about attacking his liege lord, would not consent, and before the chancellor could convince him of its legality, the opportunity was lost, and the king had to retreat into Normandy. In a subsequent campaign, Becket encountered a valiant French knight, unhorsed him, and made prize of his charger. As yet Becket had showed himself a true and faithful servant of the crown. In all private matters he administered vigorous and impartial justice; showing no favour to Saxon or Norman, to layman or ecclesiastic. He also maintained the rights of the crown with so much firmness against his own order, that some of the bishops accused him of plunging a sword into the bosom of his mother, the church, and his old patron, the primate, threatened to excommunicate him. In this conduct he was probably sincere. In 1161, however, Archbishop Theobald died, and Henry resolved that Becket should be his successor, probably expecting to find him his ready and obsequious minister in opposing the growing power of the church. On the same supposition, the clergy strongly opposed his election; but the king's mother, with more penetration, warned her son that he would in the pliant minister, find the most dangerous of opponents. Becket himself seemed indifferent or averse to the office, attended to his duties as Chancellor, or hunted in the forests round Rouen. Henry was, however, determined; and, after a twelvemonth's delay, Becket was chosen and consecrated archbishop. One of his opponents among the clergy affirmed after the ceremony, that "the king had worked a miracle, in having that day turned a layman into an archbishop, and a soldier into a saint;" Becket at that time being only in deacon's orders. His words were nearer the truth than he imagined. A sudden change came over Becket's character. The stately, fastidious courtier was now the humble, squalid penitent. Next his skin he wore haircloth, populous with vermin; fed only on herbs, and drunk only water, rendered nauseous by an infusion of fennel. In penance for his past sins, he frequently scourged himself; daily he washed the feet of thirteen beggars, and was constant in prayer and reading the Scriptures. Further, to show his determination to resign all worldly connexions, he sent the great seal to the king, in Normandy, with a laconic message, to provide himself with another chancellor, as he found himself hardly sufficient for the duties of one office, much less of two. This opened the eyes of the monarch, when too late, to the character of his former friend. When the king returned to England, they met coldly, and parted at open enmity. In their first disputes Henry was plainly in the right, and Becket had to yield. A more difficult question had reference to the limits of the civil and ecclesiastical authority, the clergy claiming exemption from the jurisdiction of the secular courts in all causes, and for whatever crime. A priest in Worcestershire had debauched a gentleman's daughter, and then murdered the father. Becket refused to deliver him up for trial to the king's judges; and having degraded him from his office, insisted that he could not be again tried for the same offence. Henry now summoned an assembly of the prelates, and in person put to them this plain question: "Whether they were willing to submit to the ancient laws and customs of the kingdom?" Becket returned the evasive answer, "We are willing, saving our own order." But this did not deceive the king, and by the advice of the pope, they afterwards retracted the saving clause, and gave an unconditional promise of obedience. Henry resolved to secure his victory by an explicit declaration of these laws and customs in regard to the rights and privileges of the clergy. This was done in the famous "Constitutions of Clarendon," which having been submitted to the great council, were joyfully received by the barons, and sworn to by all the prelates, except Becket. Even he at last consented, and took an oath, “with good faith, and without fraud or reserve, to observe the constitutions." But when these articles were submitted to the pope, he immediately annulled them, and absolved all persons from their oath to observe them. Becket had already repented of his compliance, and having been prevented by accident from resigning the primacy, as he had at first resolved, determined to atone for his guilt by bold and uncompromising opposition. Henry was no less resolved to crush the spirit of this dangerous rival, and in the great council at Northampton, in 1164, the prelate was brought to trial for high treason. He was found guilty, a heavy fine imposed, and other pretended debts heaped up against him. Next day Becket proceeded to the court in his pontifical robes, when the king retired with his barons into an inner room. Becket remained with the bishops, who upbraided him for breaking his oath, and then seated themselves apart. The Earl of Leicester now entered, and desired him to listen to his sentence. Becket boldly refused, appealed to the pope, and turned to retire. As he slowly withdrew, some courtiers threw straw at him, which they picked up from the floor, and the voice of one, whom he recognised, called out to him, "Traitor!" A momentary feeling of his ancient knightly prowess was excited, and turning round, he rejoined, "Were it not that my order forbids me, that coward should repent of his insolence." At the gate the populace received him with acclamations, and conducted him in triumph to his dwelling. Soon after Becket escaped in disguise beyond sea, where he was well received by the King of France. He then visited the pope, and at last took refuge in the Abbey of Pontigny. Henry sequestrated all his property, banished his servants, and contrived to expel him from his retreat. In 1167, he went to Rome, and as the English took part with their sovereign, he might probably have died abroad. But Henry trembled for his fair provinces in France, which Louis wanted but a pretext to seize, and a reconciliation was proposed. The king and his rebellious subject had an interview near Fereitville in Touraine, where terms of agreement were concerted. Henry, however, always refused to Becket "the kiss of peace," the token in those ages of full forgiveness. Louis regarded this refusal as a proof of unextinguished resentment, and warned Becket not to leave France. But the archbishop said that "duty called him to England, whatever perils he might encounter," and took leave of Henry with a full presentiment of his fate. Henry broke his engagement to supply Becket with money for his journey, and he was obliged to borrow it from the Archbishop of Rouen. In a fit of irritation, Becket dispatched to England letters of excommunication against the Archbishop of York, and the Bishops of London and Salisbury, for officiating at the coronation of the king's son, contrary to a papal bull. He had received these from the pope before his reconciliation to the king, and hitherto suppressed them; but they were now published at Canterbury. On his return to England, Becket experienced some rudeness from the sheriff of Kent, but both at Canterbury and London the mass of the people received him with shouts of triumph, believing that he had quarrelled with the king in defence of the Saxon race. But the fatal catastrophe was now at hand. When the three excommunicated prelates reached the court in Normandy, Henry exclaimed, "Of the cowards who eat my bread, is there not one who will free me from this turbulent priest?" Assuming these words as a licence or command, four knights set out for England, bound by oath to avenge their sovereign. On the 29th December, 1170, they entered the archbishop's apartment unarmed, and tried to gain his submission by intimidation. But menaces availed not with the undaunted prelate, and the knights retired to assume their arms. Meantime Becket had proceeded to the church, and was ascending the steps of the choir, when the four knights, with twelve armed followers, burst into the church. It was now dusk, and the archbishop might have concealed himself in the crypts, but he turned, undismayed, to the assassins. A voice was heard-" Where is the traitor ?" Silence for a moment prevailed; but when one again demanded, "Where is the Archbishop?" he replied, "Here I am, the Archbishop, but no traitor. If you seek my life, let that suffice; and I command you, in the name of God, not to touch one of my people." They again demanded that he should absolve the prelates, but he answered, "Till they make satisfaction, I will not absolve them." "Then die," said Tracy, one of the conspirators. The blow aimed at his head only slightly wounded him, as it was warded off by his crossbearer, who alone of his attendants had not fled, and whose arm was broken by the blow. Becket then feeling the blood trickle down his face, joined his hands, and bowed his head, saying "In the name of Christ, and for the defence of his church, I am ready to die." The assassins would have removed him from the church, but he refused, and he had hardly exclaimed, "I humbly commend my spirit to God who gave it," when renewed strokes laid him prostrate at the foot of the altar, and his brains were strewed upon the pavement. Thus, in his fifty-third year, perished this great and noble prelate. The subsequent fortunes of the conspirators, the remorse and humiliation of Henry, and the results of this murder on the welfare of the church and crown, we cannot now relate. Becket, it is sufficient to say, was canonized by the pope, and the tomb of St Thomas became the most celebrated shrine in England. Three centuries after, Henry VIII. summoned him to a mock trial for usurping the office of a saint, and had it declared, that "he was no saint, but rather a rebel and traitor to his prince." From the tribunal of history a more impartial decision is expected in reference to his character and conduct. High talents, great acquirements, courtly manners, none can deny him; his military prowess, his impartial justice as a judge, his bold and unflinching courage, even his enemies must admit. But he is charged with insincerity and ingratitude to his sovereign, and with seeking his own exaltation whilst pretending to defend the rights of the church. But this view is undoubtedly exaggerated. New circumstances raise new feelings and desires even in the most powerful minds, and when the king conferred on him the mitre, he also imposed on him new duties and responsibilities. Nor must it be forgotten that the cause of the church was then the cause of right and law against might and violence, the cause of mind against brute force, the cause of the poor and oppressed against the proud noble and the mailed knight. And this cause Becket seems to have been ever ready to defend, and hence his countrymen honoured him rather as asserting the rights of the Saxon against the Norman stranger, than as a martyr for the papal power. A SUB-MARINE PROJECTOR. THE invention of sub-marine boats, or vessels which could be propelled under water, and at the same time contain sufficient air for the respiration of their crews, has frequently occupied the attention of the ingenious. In the course of the late war, as we presume it must still be called, many schemes were suggested by which this desirable end was to be accomplished. Fleets were to be speedily and certainly destroyed-more effectually even than by the long range-hostile harbours and coasts visited without danger or risk of discovery-in short, by this agency war was to be made to assume an entirely different aspect. During Napoleon's imprisonment at St Helena, various plans were proposed for effecting his escape, by some such contrivance as that under notice; more than one of which, if we mistake not, formed part of the "century of inventions" of the indefatigable Colonel Maceroni. Few of these many propositions, however, excited more than a momentary curiosity, as their authors seem to have lacked either the ability or the means to make them the subject of successful experiment. One case only proved a striking exception to this rule, and we shall now proceed to give a few particulars respecting it. James Day was a native of Norfolk, but little of his history is known previous to the time (1774) that he appeared before the public, conducting the experiments which terminated with the loss of his own life. He had devoted many years of labour to the planning of a vessel which could be sunk under water with a man in it, who would be able to breathe freely while there, and bring himself to the surface, unaided, at will. After encountering many difficulties, he at length satisfied himself that his scheme was practicable, and having fitted up a Norwich market-boat for his purpose, he sunk himself thirty feet under water in Yarmouth Roads, where he continued for twenty-four hours, thus satisfactorily proving that he had not over-estimated his success. The chief difficulties of the undertaking being now overcome, it only remained to be ascertained how the discovery could be turned to a beneficial account. Joint-stock companies were not so easily formed in those days as they are in this more speculative age; and the only method that occurred to the inventor and his friends, whereby he might reap a benefit from his invention, was to get it introduced to the sporting world as a fitting subject for betting upon! After this curious decision had been arrived at, another almost insurmountable difficulty stood in the way the projector was totally unacquainted with any sporting gentlemen, and unless he could bring his invention favourably under the notice of some of these parties, the wished-for result appeared to be as distant as ever. At length the happy thought occurred of selecting a likely name, on chance, from the Sporting Calendar, and opening up a correspondence with its owner. Acting on this idea, that of a Mr Blake was made choice of, to whom the following letter was addressed : SIR, I have found out an affair by which many thousands may be won. It is of a paradoxical nature, but can be performed with ease; therefore, sir, if you choose to be informed of it, and give me one hundred pounds of every thousand you shall win by it, I will readily wait upon you, and inform you of it. I am myself but a poor mechanic, and not able to make anything by it without your assistance. Yours, &c. J. DAY." Although, of course, Mr Blake could form no idea of the "affair" from this letter, which, after all, might prove to be a hoax, yet he so far entertained the proposal as to write for Day to come to London and explain his project, guaranteeing to him, that if approved of, his proposal should be accepted, and if otherwise, his expenses in coming to town should be defrayed. Shortly after Day arrived in London, and waited on Mr Blake. He then stated his ability "to sink a vessel one hundred yards deep in the sea, with himself in it, and to remain therein for the space of twenty-four hours, without communication with any thing above; and at the expiry of that time rise up again in the vessel." As might be expected, this was something altogether out of Mr Blake's line of sporting, so, after noting the particulars, and considering the matter, he desired to witness some proof of the practicability of the scheme before he fairly committed himself regarding it. This Day readily undertook to do, and being furnished with materials, in three or four weeks he produced a model, with which he performed several experiments, which fully satisfied Mr Blake and those friends whom he consulted on the occasion. Day's proposal was accordingly accepted, and furnished with the necessary funds he proceeded to Plymouth with his model, and set men to work in constructing a large vessel suitable for his purpose. Before his departure he was warned to bear in mind the immense pressure of water that would be on his vessel at the proposed depth, and urged so to strengthen it and make his other arrangements as to provide for the increase of depth beyond that of any of his former experiments. So confident was Mr Blake of the success of the project, that he made a heavy bet on the subject, prudently, however, reducing the depth of water from one hundred yards to one hundred feet, and the time from twenty-four to twelve hours. By the terms of this bet the experiment was to be made within three months from the date; but as the machine was not ready within the time limited, Mr Blake lost his wager. Day appears to have been excessively annoyed at this, and apprehensive that Mr Blake would decline all further connexion with the "affair." Accordingly he hurried on matters, and was shortly enabled to announce the completion of his machine, and that he was fully prepared to perform what he had undertaken. It may be proper to state, that Day's vessel differed nothing externally from an ordinary boat, excepting that it had a false bottom, standing on feet like a butcher's block, which contained the ballast, and it was so arranged, that on the person inside unscrewing certain bolts the false bottom became detached, and the vessel ascended to the surface. Day having written to Mr Blake, stating that every thing was in readiness, and that the undertaking should be proceeded with the moment he arrived, that gentleman proceeded to Plymouth, and immediately after his arrival a trial took place in Catwater, where Mr Day remained for twelve hours, six of ebb-tide and six of flood, but at what depth is not stated. Induced by this successful result the betting appears to have been renewed, and a day was fixed for repeating the experiment. At the time appointed the vessel was towed to the place agreed upon, and Day having provided himself with all that he deemed requisite, entered his boat, let the water into her, and with great composure retired to the apartment constructed for him, and shut up the valve. The vessel went gradually down in twenty-two fathom water, on Tuesday the 28th June, 1774, at two o'clock afternoon, and was expected to reappear at two o'clock on the following morning. Some accounts say that the vessel went down stern foremost, |