aen wood, but a guard was there before them. They plundered
some papists, I think, and burnt a mass-house in Moorfields the same
night.

On Wednesday, I walked with Dr. Scott, to look at Newgate, and found it
in ruins, with the fire yet glowing As I went by, the protestants were
plundering the Sessions house at the Old Bailey. There were not, I
believe, a hundred; but they did their work at leisure, in full
security, without sentinels, without trepidation, as men lawfully
employed in full day. Such is the cowardice of a commercial place. On
Wednesday they broke open the Fleet, and the King's Bench, and the
Marshalsea, and Wood street Counter, and Clerkenwell Bridewell, and
released all the prisoners.

At night, they set fire to the Fleet, and to the King's Bench, and I
know not how many other places; and one might see the glare of
conflagration fill the sky from many parts. The sight was dreadful. Some
people were threatened; Mr. Strahan advised me to take care of myself.
Such a time of terrour you have been happy in not seeing.

The king said, in council, that the magistrates had not done their duty,
but that he would do his own; and a proclamation was published,
directing us to keep our servants within doors, as the peace was now to
be preserved by force. The soldiers were sent out to different parts,
and the town is now at quiet.

What has happened at your house, you will know; the harm is only a few
butts of beer; and I think you may be sure that the danger is over.
There is a body of soldiers at St. Margaret's hill.

Of Mr. Tyson I know nothing, nor can guess to what he can allude; but I
know that a young fellow of little more than seventy is naturally an
unresisted conqueror of hearts.

Pray tell Mr. Thrale that I live here and have no fruit, and if he does
not interpose, am not likely to have much; but, I think, he might as
well give me a little, as give all to the gardener.

Pray make my compliments to Queeney and Burney. I am, &c.

XLV.--To MRS. THRALE.

June 10, 1780.

DEAR MADAM,--You have, ere now, heard and read enough to convince you,
that we have had something to suffer, and something to fear, and,
therefore, I think it necessary to quiet the solicitude which you
undoubtedly feel, by telling you that our calamities and terrours are
now at an end. The soldiers are stationed so as to be every where within
call; there is no longer any body of rioters, and the individuals are
hunted to their ho