Riches and health, fine taste, all means of pleasure; Success in highest efforts—fame’s best treasure— All these were thine,—o’ertopped—and over-weighed the measure. But in recording thus life’s night-shade warning, We hold the memory of thy kind heart’s morning:— Man’s intellect is not man’s sole nor best adorning. THE ADVENTURES OF THE PUBLIC RECORDS. “Burn all the records of the realm! _My_ mouth shall be the parliament.” Thus spoke Jack Cade; and it would appear from the manner in which the public records are at the present time “bestowed,” that those who have had the stowing of them, cordially echo the sentiment. The historical, legal, and territorial archives of this country—believed to be, when properly arranged and systematised, the most complete and valuable in existence—are spread and distributed over six depositories. Some little description of three of these only, will show the jeopardy in which such records of the Wisdom of our ancestors, as we yet possess, are placed, and the adventures which have befallen many of them. Many of the most valuable documents of the past—including the Chancery Records from the reign of John to Edward I.—are kept in the Tower of London. Some in the White and some in the Wakefield Tower, close to which is an hydraulic steam-engine in daily operation. The basement of the former contains tons of gunpowder, the explosion of which would destroy all Tower Hill, and change even the course of the Thames; while the fate of paper and parchment thrown up by such a volcano, it is not even possible to imagine. The White Tower is also replenished with highly inflammable ordnance stores, tarpaulins carefully pitched, soldiers’ kits, and all kinds of wood-work, among which common labourers not imbued with extra-carefulness are constantly moving about. That no risk may be wanting, an eye-witness relates that he has seen boiling pitch actually in flames, quite close to this repository. When the fire of the Tower _did_ take place, its flames leaped and darted their dangerous tongues within forty feet of it. So alarmed were the authorities on that occasion, that this tower underwent a constant nocturnal shower-bath during the time the small Armoury was burning. But when the danger was over, though fireproof barrack-houses were built for the soldiers, the records were still left to be lodged over the gunpowder.