sion of this history. At that time, we
were beneath the sway of Anne: we are now at the commencement of the
reign of George the First. Passing at a glance over the whole of the
intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet,

--The growth untried
Of that wide gap--

we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715.

One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr. Wood,
who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day,
returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than
was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about
to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from
within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of
industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment.
Impressed with this idea, he paused for a moment to listen. But finding
all continue silent, he cautiously lifted the latch, and crept into the
room, resolved to punish the offender in case his suspicions should
prove correct.

The chamber, into which he stole, like all carpenters' workshops, was
crowded with the implements and materials of that ancient and honourable
art. Saws, hammers, planes, axes, augers, adzes, chisels, gimblets, and
an endless variety of tools were ranged, like a stand of martial weapons
at an armoury, in racks against the walls. Over these hung levels,
bevels, squares, and other instruments of measurement. Amid a litter of
nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay
a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to
term "his right hand and his left." On a shelf was placed a row of
paint-jars; the contents of which had been daubed in rainbow streaks
upon the adjacent closet and window sill. Divers plans and figures were
chalked upon the walls; and the spaces between them were filled up with
an almanack for the year; a godly ballad, adorned with a rude wood-cut,
purporting to be "_The History of Chaste Susannah_;" an old print of the
Seven Golden Candlesticks; an abstract of the various Acts of Parliament
against drinking, swearing, and all manner of profaneness; and a view of
the interior of Doctor Daniel Burgess's Presbyterian meeting-house in
Russell Court, with portraits of the reverend gentleman and the
principal members of his flock. The floor was thickly strewn with
sawdust and shavings; and across the room ran a long and