I looked
into it, three days afterwards, when the air was still so hot, that it was
impossible to breathe; and the pavement absolutely scorched the soles of
my shoes.
"The loss of property by the fire was of course far greater than that by
the plague, and yet assuredly it was not felt a thousandth part so much,
even in the city; for money, even with the lovers of it, is not so great a
thing, after all, as their old habits and affections. The wits at court
never chose to say much about the plague; but the fire, after the fright
was over, was a standing joke. And the beneficial consequences to the city
itself soon became manifest, in the widening and better building of the
streets, an improvement which came in aid of the cleanliness that was
resorted to against the plague; so that instead of a judgment against the
King and his government, Rochester said, in his profane way, that heaven
never showed a judgment of a better sort."
We need scarcely add our commendation of these delightful volumes. Each
page teems with life, and everywhere to use an expression of the writer,
his "soul rises with springy freshness." The portraits, and to use a
familiar term of artists, the bits of painting, have the touches of a
master-hand, and they are interwoven with genius which enlivens art and
embellishes nature.
[1] At or near Mickleham, by the way, the writer might have commanded a
distant view of the burning City. On a fine, clear day we have often
discerned the dome of St.
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