The reign of James II. offers no particular incident in relation to Oswestry. As a sovereign he was worthless and dangerous. His darling objects were, the establishment, throughout the land, of the Roman Catholic religion, and the restriction of popular freedom. During his brief occupation of the throne he paid a visit to Shrewsbury and Whitchurch; and on his way from the metropolis sojourned at Ludlow for a night, and passed through the Strettons. The people of Shrewsbury had not been favoured with a royal visit for nearly half a century, and were now disposed to give the monarch a cordial reception. All the public functionaries were trained and disciplined as to duty, for an incident had occurred in the royal progress, so ludicrous in character, that the Shrewsbury corporation resolved it should not be re-enacted amid their loyal congratulations. The story to which we refer may be true or fabulous; but it is too good not to be connected with a notice of James’s reign: and, after all, the mayor of the town where the scene is laid, in adopting literally the promptings of the learned recorder, was not, to use a common phrase, “so great a fool as he seemed to be.” If King James had received those promptings in a wise spirit—mirth-exciting as they must have been—he might have been a good sovereign, and had around him loyal and devoted subjects. The mayor whose absurdities we are about to describe is said to have been both illiterate and dull, incapable of reading or remembering an address. It was settled therefore, says the tale, that the recorder should stand behind him, to set him right if he happened to be out. When they (the corporation) were ushered into the royal presence, and the chief magistrate was about to commence his harangue, as he appeared somewhat sheepish and embarassed, his friendly monitor whispered in his ear, “_Hold up your head_, _sir_, _and look like a man_!” Mistaking this for the beginning of his speech, he boldly stared the king in the face, and roared out, “_Hold_, _up your head_, _sir_, _and look like a man_!” Alarmed at the frightful blunder just made, the recorder whispered to the chief magistrate (who at this moment must have resembled the celebrated Mayor of Garrat, with two nosegays in his coat), “_What the d—l do you mean_, _sir_?” The mayor, as stolid as ever, and nothing abashed, thundered out the recorder’s exclamation as boldly as before. The recorder, indignant and irritated, muttered, “By heavens, sir, you’ll ruin us all!” His worship, taking this to be a continuance of the speech, and still staring his majesty full in the face, with a yet louder voice repeated, “_By heavens_, _sir_, _you’ll ruin us all_!” Even kingly patience could bear this no longer, and rising, his majesty in an angry tone demanded what was the meaning of this jargon? when the recorder laid before him “the facts of the case,” and the king passed the affair by with a gracious smile. THE REVOLUTION.