t was here that Charles
I. had collected his forces. This city had remained faithful to him,
after the whole nation had forsaken his cause to join the standard of
Parliament and liberty. The memory of that unfortunate king and his
companions, the amiable Falkland, the insolent Goring, his queen, and
son, gave a peculiar interest to every part of the city which they
might be supposed to have inhabited. The spirit of elder days found a
dwelling here, and we delighted to trace its footsteps. If these
feelings had not found an imaginary gratification, the appearance of
the city had yet in itself sufficient beauty to obtain our admiration.
The colleges are ancient and picturesque; the streets are almost
magnificent; and the lovely Isis, which flows beside it through meadows
of exquisite verdure, is spread forth into a placid expanse of waters,
which reflects its majestic assemblage of towers, and spires, and
domes, embosomed among aged trees.

I enjoyed this scene, and yet my enjoyment was embittered both by the
memory of the past and the anticipation of the future. I was formed
for peaceful happiness. During my youthful days discontent never
visited my mind, and if I was ever overcome by ennui, the sight of what
is beautiful in nature or the study of what is excellent and sublime in
the productions of man could always interest my heart and communicate
elasticity to my spirits. But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has
entered my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit what
I shall soon cease to be--a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity,
pitiable to others and intolerable to myself.

We passed a considerable period at Oxford, rambling among its environs
and endeavouring to identify every spot which might relate to the most
animating epoch of English history. Our little voyages of discovery
were often prolonged by the successive objects that presented
themselves. We visited the tomb of the illustrious Hampden and the
field on which that patriot fell. For a moment my soul was elevated
from its debasing and miserable fears to contemplate the divine ideas
of liberty and self sacrifice of which these sights were the monuments
and the remembrancers. For an instant I dared to shake off my chains
and look around me with a free and lofty spirit, but the iron had eaten
into my flesh, and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my
miserable self.

We left Oxford with regret and proceeded to Matlock, whic