14th December

Born: Michael Nostradamus, famous prophet, 1503, St. Penny, in Provence; Tycho Brahe, astronomer, 1546, Knudsthorp, near the Baltic; Barthélemi d'Herbelot, orientalist, 1625, Paris; Daniel Neal, divine and author (History of the Puritans), 1678, London; James Bruce, Abyssinian traveller, 1730, Kinnaird, Stirlinyshire; Rev. Charles Wolfe, author of The Burial of Sir John Moore, 1791, Dublin.

Died: Pope Anastasius I, 402; Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, burned as a Lollard, 1417, St. Giles' Fields, London; Dean Henry Aldrich, of Christ-Church, Oxford, eminent scholar and divine, 1710; Thomas Rymer, historical writer, 1713; Thomas Tenison, archbishop of Canterbury, 1715, Lambeth; Sir William Trumbull, statesman and man of letters, 1716; General George Washington, American patriotic commander and states-man, 1799, Mount Vernon, Virginia; Conrad Malte-Brun, geographer, 1826, Paris; J. C. London, botanical writer, 1843, Bayswater, London; Earl of Aberdeen, statesman, 1860, London; Prince Albert, consort of Queen Victoria, 1861, Windsor Castle.

Feast Day: St. Spiridion, bishop and confessor, 348. Saints Nicasius, archbishop of Rheims, and his companions, martyrs, 5th century.


There is quite as much difference between a gardener of the old school, and one of the modern era, as exists between the old sea-captain, and the scientific naval officer of the present day; Andrew Fairservice has paired off with Commodore Trunnion, and we are very well rid of both of them. There can be no doubt that the eminent position to which the art of gardening and its professors have of late years attained, is mainly due to the teachings of John Claudius Loudon. The writer well remembers the terrible outcry among the old-school gardeners when Loudon's Encyclopaedia first appeared. 'This bookmaking-fellow,' they cried, 'will teach the gentry everything, and the masters and mistresses will know more than we do!' Their words were verified; but the consequence was, that the young gardeners had to study, in order to keep pace with their employers, and doing so speedily raised their craft to a higher platform. Having commenced this movement, Loudon devoted his whole life to urge it forward. He incessantly laboured to shew, that horticulture and botany were merely the foundations of the gardener's calling; that something more than a smattering of a dozen other arts and sciences was necessary to complete the superstructure. And now, when the grave has closed over him for twenty years, it is amply testified by the most convincing proofs that his ideas were correct.

It was in 1822 that Loudon gave to the world the most important and comprehensive publication ever written on horticulture-The Encyclopcedia of Gardening; a work fully meriting its pretentious title; and though, of necessity, a compilation, enriched with much useful original matter, the result of his continental travels. The success of this work induced him to undertake a series of encyclopaedias on agriculture, botany, and cognate subjects, the last of which appeared in 1832. The herculean toils of these ten years are beyond description. 'The labour,' says Mrs. Loudon, 'was immense; and for several months he and I used to sit up the greater part of every night, never having more than four hours sleep, and drinking strong coffee to keep ourselves awake.'

Undeterred, however, he next commenced a more extended and labour-exacting work than any of his previous productions, an Arboretum et Fruticetum Britannicum, embracing every particular relative to the trees and shrubs-whether native or introduced-of the British islands. It is scarcely credible, 'but no less true, that during the time these vast works were in course of production, London edited several periodicals. In 1826, he established the Gardener's Magazine, which he continued till his death. In 1826, he commenced his Magazine of Natural History, and edited it until 1836, when it passed into other hands. In 1834, he commenced the Architectural Magazine, discontinuing it in 1838; but in 1836 he began publishing his Suburban Gardener. It may be safely said, that such multifarious and incessant labours are without a parallel in literature.

A quaint old farmer of our acquaintance, when speaking of a person who worked very hard without deriving much profit from his labours, said that he had turned over a great deal of grass, but made very little hay. It is painful to relate, that the very same words might be applied to Loudon's heroic undertakings. When the Arboretum was completed in 1838, Loudon, who published at his own expense and risk, found himself indebted to printer, paper-maker, and engraver no less a sum than £10,000.

Loudon's literary labours would appear excessive, even for a man in perfect health, and with the vigorous use of his limbs; but they seem little less than miraculous, when the circumstances under which they were carried on are taken into consideration. A severe attack of rheumatic fever when in his twenty-third year, produced a permanent stiffness of the left knee. Subsequently his right arm became affected, and London was advised to try the curative effects of shampooing. During this process, the arm was broken so close to the shoulder as to render setting it in the usual mode impossible. Shortly after, the arm was again broken; and then, in 1826, amputation became unavoidable. In this year, it will be observed, he established the Gardener's Magazine, and entered on that career of herculean mental effort already detailed; nor was it carried on without a still further shattering of his frame, for now his left hand became so disabled, that the use of only the third and little finger remained.

Maimed and infirm of body, his mind retained its unabated vigour, and he had recourse to the employment of an amanuensis and draughtsman. Thus did he yield ground only inch by inch, as death advanced; and when his last hour arrived, death still found him hard at work, for 'he died standing on his feet.' Chronic inflammation of the lungs terminated his life on the 14th of December 1843. The work on which he was employed at the time of his death, is entitled Self-instruction for Young Gardeners, the class of persons whose interests his lifelong labours were devoted to promote. Let his faithful wife, who best knew him, and who has since followed him to the last resting place, utter his requiem.-' Never did any man possess more energy and determination; whatever he began he pursued with enthusiasm, and carried out notwithstanding obstacles that would have discouraged any ordinary person. He was a warm friend; most affectionate in all his relations of son, husband, father, and brother; and never hesitated to sacrifice pecuniary considerations to what he considered his duty.'


In connection with the improvements in the art of gardening, effected by Mr. Loudon, the subject of the foregoing article, it may not be uninteresting to contemplate the condition of horticulture in England in the thirteenth century; and the nature and extent of the supplies of fruit, vegetables, and similar produce procurable by our ancestors. From the roll of the household expenses of Eleanor, Countess of Leicester, third daughter of King John, and wife of the celebrated Simon de Montfort, who fell at Evesham, we gather the following curious details; this roll being the earliest known memorial of the expenditure of an English subject.

It cannot fail to be remarked, in perusing the roll, that very few esculent plants are mentioned. Dried pease and beans, parsley, fennel, onions, green-pease, and new beans, are the only species named. Pot-herbs, of which the names are not specified, cost 6d.; and here, on the authority of Mr. Hardy, we may mention that one shilling then would purchase as much as fifteen now. If any other vegetables were in general use at the time, they were, perhaps, comprised under the term potagium. There is, however, much uncertainty upon the subject of the cultivation of vegetables, in this country, during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Cresses, endive, lettuce, beets, parsneps, carrots, cabbages, leeks, radishes, and cardoons, were grown in France during the reign of Charlemagne; but it is doubtful whether many of these varieties had penetrated into England at an early period. The most skilful horticulturists of the Middle Ages were ecclesiastics, and it is possible that in the gardens of monasteries many vegetables were raised which were not in common use among the laity. Even in the fifteenth century, the general produce of the English kitchen-garden was contemptible, when compared with that of the Low Countries, France, and Italy. Gilbert Kymer can enumerate only, besides a few wild and for-gotten sorts, cabbage, lettuce, spinach, beet-root, trefoil, bugloss, borage, celery, purslaine, fennel, smallage, thyme, hyssop, parsley, mint, a species of turnip, and small white onions. According to him, all these vegetables were boiled with meat. He observes that some were eaten raw, in spring and summer, with olive-oil and spices, but questions the propriety of the custom. This is, perhaps, the earliest notice extant of the use of salads in England.

The roll furnishes but little information respecting fruit. The only kinds named are apples and pears; three hundred of the latter were purchased at Canterbury, probably from the gardens of the monks. It is believed, however, that few other sorts were generally grown in England before the latter end of the fifteenth century; although Matthew Paris, describing the bad season of 1257, observes that 'apples were scarce, and pears scarcer, while quinces, vegetables, cherries, plums, and all shell-fruits were entirely destroyed.' These shell-fruits were, probably, the common hazel-nut, walnuts, and perhaps chestnuts: in 1256, the sheriffs of London were ordered to buy two thousand chestnuts for the kin's own use. In the Wardrobe Book of the 14th of Edward I., we find the bill of Nicholas, the royal fruiterer, in which the only fruits mentioned are pears, apples, quinces, medlars, and nuts. The supply of these from Whitsuntide to November, cost £21, 14s. 1½d.

This apparent scarcity of indigenous fruits naturally leads to the inquiry, what foreign kinds, besides those included in the term spicery, such as almonds, dates, figs, and raisins, were imported into England in this and the following century. In the time of John, and of Henry III, Rochelle was celebrated for its pears, and conger-eels; the sheriffs of London purchased a hundred of the former for Henry in 1223. In the 18th of Edward I, a large Spanish ship came to Portsmouth; out of the cargo of which the queen bought one frail of Seville figs, one frail of raisins or grapes, one bale of dates, and two hundred and thirty pomegranates, fifteen citrons, and seven oranges. The last item is important, as Le Grand d'Aussy could not trace the orange in France to an earlier date than 1333; here we find it known in England in 1290; and it is probable that this was not its first appearance. The marriage of Edward with Eleanor of Castile naturally led to a greater intercourse with Spain, and, consequently, to the introduction of other articles of Spanish produce than the leather of Cordova, olive-oil, and rice, which had previously been the principal imports from that fertile country, through the medium of the merchants of Bayonne and Bordeaux.

It is to be regretted that the series of wardrobe books is incomplete, as much additional information on this point might have been derived from them. At all events, it appears certain that Europe is indebted to the Arab conquerors of Spain for the introduction of the orange, and not to the Portuguese, who are said to have brought it from China. An English dessert in the thirteenth century must, it is clear, have been composed chiefly of dried and preserved fruits, dates, figs, apples, pears, nuts, and the still common dish of almonds and raisins.

With respect to spices, the arrival of a ship laden with them was an event of such importance, and perhaps rarity, that the king usually hastened to satisfy his wants before the cargo was landed.

Thus, in the reign of Henry III, the bailiffs of Sandwich were commanded to detain, upon their coming into port, two great ships laden with spices and precious merchandises, which were exported from Bayonne; and not to allow anything to be sold until the king had had his choice of their contents.

Returning to the roll, cider is mentioned only once, and in such a manner as to convey the impression that it was not in much estimation, the Countess having distributed one ton among eight hundred paupers.


On no occasion subsequent to the death of the Princess Charlotte of Wales, in 1817, was any royal demise so deeply lamented in England as that of Albert, Prince Consort to Queen Victoria. Born on the 26th of August 1819-only two months after the royal lady whom he was destined to espouse-he passed his early days in receiving an education unusually complete in all that could grace a prince and a gentleman, both as regards solid learning and high-bred accomplishments. He and his elder brother, Ernest Augustus, had lasting reason to be grateful for the care bestowed upon them by their father, the reigning Duke of Saxe Coburg Gotha. The two young princes visited England in 1836, while William IV was king; and then, it is understood, took place the interview between Albert and Victoria, which led ultimately to their union.

On the return of the two brothers to Germany, both princes continued their studies with great assiduity, at various universities. Albert is believed, too, to have profited greatly during a temporary residence with his uncle, Leopold, the sagacious king of the Belgians; who, being uncle to Victoria as well as to Albert, was well fitted to instruct the young man concerning the delicate and responsible position of one who might become husband to the Queen of England.

In 1839, when he was declared of age, Prince Albert came into possession of estates worth about £2500 a year: and this was all the patrimonial property which he inherited. On the 10th of October in that year, Ernest and Albert again visited England. Victoria was then Queen. Her ministers had already agreed on the suitableness of Albert as her husband, in all that concerned political, national, and religious considerations; and the graces and accomplishments of the Prince now fairly won the heart of the young Queen.

It was not for an almost portionless young Prince to pay addresses to the greatest queen in Europe; nor was it an easy matter for an English maiden, at twenty, to shew her preference towards him; but one of the many memoirs of the Prince gives the denouement in the following form

On a certain occasion, at one of the palace balls, the Queen presented her bouquet to the Prince at the conclusion of a dance; his close uniform, buttoned up to the throat, did not permit him to place the bouquet where the Persian-like compliment would dictate; but he drew forth a penknife, ripped a hole in the breast of his coat, and placed the treasure there. On another occasion, when he was thanking the Queen for the very kind and gracious reception which he had met with in England, she replied: 'If, indeed, your Highness is so much pleased with this country, perhaps you would not object to remaining in it and making it your home.

These narrations may not either of them, perhaps, be strictly correct, but there is not a doubt that the alliance proceeded from mutual affection. On the 14th of November, Prince Albert left England; and on the 23rd, at a privy council summoned for the purpose, the Queen said:

I have caused you to be summoned, in order that I may acquaint you with my resolution in a matter which deeply concerns the welfare of my people, and the happiness of my future life. It is my intention to ally myself in marriage with Prince Albert of Saxe Coburg Gotha. Deeply impressed with the solemnity of the engagement which I am about to contract, I have not come to this decision without mature consideration, nor without feeling a strong assurance that, with the blessing of Almighty God, it will at once secure my domestic felicity, and serve the interests of my country.

By an unusual combination of circumstances, the Tory, or Church-and-King party of the day, appeared in the character of economical reformers; for they, in the House of Commons, cut down to £30,000 a year, an allowance to Prince Albert, which Viscount Melbourne's government had proposed should be £50,000. On the 24th of January 1840, the Prince was made Knight of the Garter; on the 9th of February, he arrived in England; and on the next day he became husband to Queen Victoria.

During the twenty-two years of his married life, this exemplary man laboured incessantly to be worthy of his high position, and to foster all good and ennobling schemes. His merits were partially known to the nation during his life-time, but never so fully as after his decease. He went through a regular course of study of the system of English law and jurisprudence, and of the rise and progress of the English constitution, under Mr. Selwyn. He studied agriculture, both scientifically and practically, and became a regular exhibitor at agricultural shows. He revived the drooping Society of Arts, and made it more flourishing than it had ever been before. He was, more than any other person, the originator of International Exhibitions; and to him the world owed especially the Great Exhibition of 1851. He took a decided part in the establishment of the South Kensington Museum, and of schools of art in various parts of the country. He advocated popular education in various ways, calculated to shew the liberal tendency of his mind.

He made speeches and addresses at the York and Aberdeen meetings of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, which shelved a very extensive acquaintance with science in its principles, its history, and its practical applications. He had something to say worth hearing and attending to at the Educational, Statistical, and Social Science Congresses. He was the promoter of a new branch or department of the Order of the Bath, designed to recognise civil in addition to military and naval merit. He might, at one time, have become commander-in-chief of the Queen's armies; but his own appreciation of the delicate position which he occupied towards her Majesty-at once a husband and a subject-led him to decline the honour, although urged to accept it by the Duke of Wellington.

There were two or three occasions in his life when he was a little misunderstood; especially in 1851 and 1854, during political discussions, which led many persons to accuse him of using 'German' influence injurious to English interests; but the leaders of both parties, in and out of office, 'uniformly acknowledged the purity of his intentions, and the care with which he sought always to keep strictly within the constitutional limits of his position.

Such was the Prince whose death, on the 14th of December 1861, was a source of great national grief.

Mr. Tennyson published a new edition of his Idylls of the King a few weeks after the death of the Prince; to whose memory he dedicated it in lines which are likely to take a permanent place in the poetry of this country. In the following extract, the leading characteristics of the Prince's mind are well set forth:

He seems to me
Scarce other than my own ideal knight,
'Who reverenced his conscience as his king;
Whose glory was, redressing human wrongs;
Who spake no slander, no, nor listen'd to it;
'Who lov'd one only and who clave to her'-
Her, over all whose realms to their last isle,
Commingled with the gloom of imminent war,
The shadow of His loss moved like eclipse,
Darkening the world. We have lost him: he is gone:
We know him now: all narrow jealousies
Are silent; and we see him as he moved,
How modest, kindly, all-accomplish'd, wise,
'With what sublime repression of himself,
And in what limits, and how tenderly;
Not swaying to this faction or to that;
Not making his high place the lawless perch
Of wing'd ambitions, nor a vantage-ground
For pleasure; but through all this tract of years
'Wearing the white flower of a blameless life,
Before a thousand peering littlenesses,
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne,
And blackens every blot: for where is he,
Who dares foreshadow for an only son
A lovelier life, a more unstain'd, than his?
Or how should England, dreaming of his sons,
Hope more for these than some inheritance
Of such a life, a heart, a mind, as thine,
Thou noble father of her kings to be,
Laborious for her people and her poor-
Voice in the rich dawn of an ampler day-
Far-sighted summoner of War and Waste
To fruitful strifes and rivalries of peace-
Sweet nature gilded by the gracious gleam
Of letters, dear to science, dear to art,
Dear to thy land and ours, a Prince indeed,
Beyond all titles, and a household name,
Hereafter, through all times, Albert the Good.

And the closing lines, addressed to the royal widow, are equally beautiful:

Break not, O woman's heart, but still endure;
Break not, for thou art royal, but endure,
Rememb'ring all the beauty of that star
Which shone so close beside thee, that ye made
One light together, but has past and left
The crown a lonely splendour.
May all love,
His love, unseen but felt, o'ershadow thee,
The love of all thy sons encompass thee,
The love of all thy daughters cherish thee,
The love of all thy people comfort thee,
Till God's love set thee at his side again.


The effect of particular sermons has often been remarked upon in rousing the feelings of large multitudes of persons, but it seldom extended far beyond the immediate hearers; this of Dr. Sacheverell's, however, rung through the whole nation; little else was spoken of for months, and in its consequences it influenced a general election, and turned out the Whig ministry. The preacher, Henry Sacheverell, was descended from a good Derbyshire family, who had taken part with the Puritans, and struggled for the very principles which the subject of the present memoir so warmly opposed; but his father had become a clergyman of the Church of England, and held the living of Marlborough, where his son Henry was born in the year 1672. The father dying in poverty, and leaving a large family, Henry was adopted by a Mr. Hearst, who sent him to Magdalen College, Oxford, where he became the intimate friend of Addison, gained a fellowship, and was celebrated as a college tutor.

Thus when, in after-days, we find him spoken of as an ignorant, bombastical fellow, 'who had not learning enough to write or speak true English;' and we are informed that the learned doctors of the university of Oxford, in holding a high-feast to welcome their champion after his trial, were soon disgusted at his unspeakable ignorance, we cannot help suspecting that these accounts must have arisen from the violence of party-spirit. It is said that he began life as a Whig, but not getting the promotion he wanted, he became a Tory, and, like all renegades, poured out boundless abuse on his late friends.

In 1705, he was presented to the living of St. Saviour's, Southwark, where his loud voice, great impudence, and graceful, well-dressed person, gained him many admirers. The popular cry at the time was, that the church was in danger from the wickedness of the ministry, and Sacheverell, taking up the cry, seized the opportunity, when preaching the assize sermon at Derby, on 15th August 1709, of making a violent attack on the government; and again, on the 5th of November, when addressing the corporation of London in St. Paul's Cathedral, he chose for his text: 'Perils from false brethren,' and used the expression, 'the crafty insidiousness of such wily Volpones,' which was then a popular nickname for Godolphin, the lord treasurer.

Foaming at the mouth, and striking the pulpit with his clenched hand, he denounced the bishops who approved of toleration to dissenters, and the supporters of the Revolution as men who had committed the unpardonable offence. The corporation gave their thanks, as usual, for the sermon, and do not generally seem to have been aware of the treason they had been listening to; but when the sermon was printed, and the Tories praised it up to the skies, setting no less than forty thousand copies in circulation, the ministry took alarm, and Marlborough and Godolphin urged an impeachment.

In the following month of December, the House of Commons passed a resolution denouncing both this and the previous discourse, delivered by Sacheverell at Derby, as 'malicious, scandalous, and seditious libels, highly reflecting upon her majesty and government, the late happy revolution, and the Protestant succession as by law established, and both Houses of parliament, tending to alienate the affections of her majesty's good subjects, and to create jealousies and divisions among them.' The author and printer of the discourses in question were at the same time ordered to attend at the bar of the House, a command which was complied with by them on the following day (14th December); and thereupon a motion was made and carried that Sacheverell should be impeached of high crimes and misdemeanours. In the meantime, the people were roused to the greatest excitement by the High-Church party, who asserted that the Puritans were regaining the ascendency, the Whigs would pull down the church, and Sacheverell was to be prosecuted in order to try their strength; money and strong ale gained them numerous partisans among the lower orders.

After some delays, the trial began on the 27th of February 1710. When the doctor had previously made his appearance in the House of Commons, he was accompanied by no less than one hundred of the most eminent clergymen in London; but the House of Lords determined that Westminster Hall would be a more suitable place for the trial than their own house; and that had been prepared with greater show than perhaps was necessary. The queen had her box near the throne, and attended as a private individual; numbers of ladies, of every station, crowded to support their favourite preacher; and the populace rushed in such numbers, that it was much feared the galleries would give way. Out of doors, the scene was no less striking; London had been in a sort of riot ever since the arrest of Sacheverell; the lowest of the people were his greatest supporters; butchers' boys, chimney-sweeps, costermongers, formed his body-guard, and the respectable citizens wished the trial well over, so much did they dread that the drunken and riotous crowd would find vent for their passions in setting fire to their houses and murdering the Whigs.

The subject of all this uproar entered the hall, attended by Dr. Atterbury and Dr. Smalridge, and inflated with his own importance in no small degree; the old Duchess of Marlborough declaring 'that his clean gloves, good assurance, and white handkerchief well-managed, moved the hearts of many at his appearance.' Four articles of impeachment were brought against him, and Robert Walpole distinguished himself much by the speech he made in support of them. Sacheverell made a speech in his own defence:

exquisitely contrived to move pity, full of impious piety, denying the greatest part of the charge, with solemn appeals to God and such applications of Scripture as would make any serious person tremble;

whilst the beautiful daughter of the Duchess of Marlborough, who thus writes, was so much affected at his calling God to witness what was a falsehood, that she burst into tears; but other noble ladies sympathised with the accused, and saw a halo of truth and innocence around the head of the injured priest.

The doctor's return home, after the first day's trial, was one continued ovation; but on the evening of the second. day, the riot broke out by the pillaging and burning of some dissenting chapels; a bonfire was made in Lincoln's Inn Fields, of the books and cushions, the mob shouting around: 'High Church and Sacheverell!' Bishop Burnet, who was well known for his tolerant views, and had been denounced by Sacheverell, had a narrow escape; the mob rushed upon his house, but some of the guards arrived in time to save it. There was a movement upon the bank; happily the mob was cowardly, and dispersed as soon as the troops appeared; no blood was shed, but it was generally believed that many gentlemen, in disguise, directed and encouraged the people; the queen was suspected of being on their side, and on one of the days of the trial, as she was on her way to Westminster, they gathered round her chair, shouting: 'God bless your majesty and the church; we hope your majesty is for Dr. Sacheverell.'

On the 20th of March, the trial came to an end; the doctor was found guilty by a majority of sixty-eight to fifty-two; three days after, he was placed on his knees at the bar, and the lord chancellor pronounced this judgment:

You, Henry Sacheverell, are enjoined not to preach during the term of three years next ensuing, and your two printed sermons shall be burned before the Royal Exchange, at one of the clock in the afternoon, by the common hangman, in the presence of the lord mayor and sheriffs of London.

As this very mild sentence was considered equivalent to an acquittal, the illuminations and rejoicings were on a splendid scale, and every passer-by was compelled to drink to the health of the popular champion. He, on his side, was more inflated with vanity than ever; his vulgar attendants huzzaed him through the streets like a successful parliamentary candidate.

For some days, he employed himself in calling upon those noblemen who had voted in his favour; but the Duke of Argyle refused him admittance, desiring his servant to tell him that what he did in parliament was not done for his sake. On the other hand, Lord Weymouth presented him with fifty pounds, and many gifts were sent to him. After exhausting the enthusiasm of the metropolis, he set off on a sort of progress through the kingdom; Oxford, as the focus of high-churchism, or as the Whigs called it, 'the nursing-place of slavery,' was loud in its approbation and warm in its reception; in every town feasts were provided, and, strange to say, when a clergyman was in the case, drunkenness prevailed; three bottles and a magnum were pure orthodoxy, and since the restoration of Charles II, such scenes had not been witnessed. Sacheverell was received by the mayors, and escorted by a mounted train; garlands and flags adorned the streets, and medals, with his picture engraved, were struck.

Happily, after a few weeks, people recovered their senses, and acknowledged the justice of the Duchess of Marlborough's remark: 'Oh, what dreadful things do we undergo for the sake of the church!' At Ely, the doctor was pelted with stones and curses; and on wishing to make a speech to the Company of the Bank of England, the directors ordered him to be turned out: nevertheless, the affair had a most powerful influence on the elections, and the Tory ministry were brought back to their places. The living of Salatin, in Shropshire, was presented to him; and a month after the three years' suspension had expired, the queen, who at heart was always on his side, gave him the valuable living of St. Andrews, Holborn. Like many who owe their popularity to circumstances rather than any merit of their own, Sacheverell dropped into private life, and nothing worthy of note is told of him, but that his quarrels with his parishioners were by no means unfrequent; just what might be expected from so pugnacious a disposition. He inherited a considerable fortune, and died on the 5th of June 1724, having lived in comfort and affluence during his later years.