the long line of the procession was literally filled, while men and boys
were seen in perilous positions on roofs and lamp-posts, trees and
railings. Loud and hearty cheers, so unanimous they were like one immense
multitudinous shout, heralded the royal carriage.

"A little before this date, a story was told of the lamentations of the
Queen's coachman. He declared that he had driven Her Majesty for six
weeks, without once being able to see her. Of course he could not turn
his head or his eyes from his horses."

At Temple Bar--poor, old Temple Bar, now a thing of the past!--the Queen
was met by the Lord Mayor, who handed her the city keys and sword, which
she returned to his keeping--a little further on, the scholars of
Christ's Hospital--the "Blue-Coat Boys," offered her an address of
congratulation, saying how glad they were to have a woman to rule over
them, which was a good deal for boys to say, and also sung the National
Anthem with a will.

The drawing-room of Guildhall was fitted up most gorgeously. Here the
address of the city magnates was read and replied to,--and here in the
midst of Princes and nobles, Her Majesty performed a brave and memorable
act. She knighted Sheriff Montefiore, the first man of his race to
receive such an honor from a British sovereign, and Sir Moses Montefiore,
now nearly a centenarian, has ever since, by a noble life and good works,
reflected only honor on his Queen. But ah, what would her uncle, the late
King, have said, had he seen her profaning a Christian sword by laying it
on the shoulders of a Jew! He would rather have used it on the
unbeliever's ears, after Peter's fashion.

After this ceremony, they all passed into the Great Hall, which had been