f the most tasteful is that of Lillywhite, the
cricketer, erected by public subscription. Wombwell, known and admired
in our childish days for his wonderful menagerie, reposes under a massive
lion. One grave has a marble pillar bearing a horse all saddled and
bridled. The inscription under commemorates the death of a lady, and
commences thus,

"She's gone, whose nerve could guide the swiftest steed."

On inquiry we found the lady was the wife of a celebrated knacker, well
skilled in the mysteries of horseflesh and the whip. Holman, the blind
traveller, is buried in Highgate Cemetery, and very near him are the
mortal remains of that prince of newspaper editors and proprietors,
Stephen Rintoul. On the other side the cemetery is buried Bogue, the
well-known publisher of Fleet Street. In the Catacombs are interred
Liston, the greatest operator of his day, and Pierce Egan, a man as
famous in his way. It was only a few months since Sir W. Charles Ross,
the celebrated miniature painter, was buried here. Frank Stone sleeps in
the same cemetery, as also does that well-remembered actress, Mrs.
Warner. Haydn, well-known for his Dictionary of Dates, and Gilbert a
Beckett, still remembered for his comic powers, are amongst the literary
men that here await the resurrection morn. A fairer place in which to
sleep it would be difficult to choose, in spite of the monstrous trophies
of affectation, or ostentation, or affection all round,--in spite of the
reminiscences of Cornhill and Cheapside, suggested by every other grave.
As a ride, you had better pass by monuments unlooked at, they do but
enumerate the virtues of the illustrious obscure, and the wealth of their
survivors.

Of the past we now recall another relic, Lord Byron, in "Childe Harold,"
writes,

"Some o'er thy Thamis row the ribbon'd fair,
Others along the safer turnpike fly;
Some Richmond-hill ascend, some scud to Ware,
And many to the steep of Highgate hie.
Ask ye, Boeotian shades! the reason why?
'Tis to the worship of the solemn Horn,
Grasped in the holy hand of Mystery,
In whose dread name both men and maids are sworn,
And consecrate the oath with draught, and dance till mom."

In the note from whence the above extract is taken, Lord Byron says he
alludes to a ridiculous custom which formerly prevailed in Highgate of
administering a burlesque oath to all travellers of the middling rank who
stopped there. The part