ed to take place. Amongst the numerous balloons that floated in the air, enjoying this magnificent spectacle, was one containing Father Murphy, who had been prevented, by a sprained ankle, from joining in the procession, and the family of Mr. Montagu—and nothing could be more enthusiastic than their delight, as they looked down upon the splendid scene below them. Few things, indeed, could be imagined finer than the sight of this gorgeous cortege, winding slowly along a magnificent street, supposed to be five miles long, leading from Blackfriar's Bridge, through Greenwich, to Blackheath.
Sumptuous rows of houses, or rather palaces, lined the sides of this superb street; the terraces and balconies before which, were crowded with persons of all ages, beautifully attired, waving flags of different colours, richly embroidered and fringed with gold, whilst festoons of the choicest flowers hung from house to house. We have already said the air was thronged with balloons, and the crowd increased every moment. These aërial machines, loaded with spectators till they were in dan-
