IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I m iiiiM 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" — ► v: ^ /a m ^ .^ O /a ^ '# '^ /A ''W 7 Photographic Sciences Corporation £<. L1? ,\ 4 V % 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 :\ \ 6^ %/ 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X □ 32X The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks to the generosity of: National Library of Canada L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grdce d la g6n6rosit6 de: Bibliothdque nationale du Canada The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impression. The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol — ♦► (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at liifferent reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beiginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les images suivantes ont 6X6 reproduites avec In plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et de la netteti de l'exemplaire U\m6. et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage. Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprimde sont filmds en commenpant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page aui comports une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmis en commengant par la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbols — ► signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s d des taux de reduction diff^rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichd, il est film6 d partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 / JLL, COBDEN, HAVELOCK. AND TUB ENGLISH REFORMERS. BY THE REV. J. LATHERN. ST. JOHN, N. B. : J. & A. McMillan, steam-power rRiNxERs, 78 Prince Wilmam Stkekt. 1871. 1 Am tutc 71. now atioi on 1 Peoj plan Sai PREFACE. Three of the following Lectures formed part of the regular Annual Course of Lectures, arranged by the Mechani..l Tn^. .iute, ,n the successive winters of 18G8-9, 18G9-70 and 1870- 71. They were delivered in inverse order to that which they now appear; but, with the exception of slight structural alter- ation, are the same as when first given. The fourth Lecture on the Reformation was delivered before the " Youn.^ Peoples' Institute," and, though not included in the original plan, has beer? addrd by request. j j Saint Jobn, N. B., March 25tb, 1871. I. II. III. IV. ] CONTENTS I. CromweU and the Ironsides. II. Cobden and the Com Laws. III. Havelock and the March to Lucknow. IV. English Reformers and the English Reformation. CR0MWI^]1.L AND THE IRONSIDES. ^piIK Revolutionary strugulc bctwceu Charles the First and 1 his Parliament called forth men of commanding mind, and moulded even common men into heroes; but, through the shadows, which in years between, have deepened over the most memorable actors at that great national crisis, there looms up distinctly the rugged features and stalwart form of Oliver Cromwell — a king of men. ]5ut why in this day of stirring event and of rapid breath- less movement go back to the old beaten pathways of centuries ? Apart from the consideration that History repeats itself — that between the past and the present there arc always impor- tant points of contact — the incessant strife of opinion which has long marked out the course and character of Cromwell as legitimate battle-ground in English History has not yet sub- sided; and the continued accumulation of material, for doing justice to the Protectorate, invests that period with all the freshness and interest of a new chapter in history. In the " Letters and Speeches" of the great Usurper, which want of space prevents me from quoting at length, but which are now accessible to ail, we have a character of true and noble type, and, making allowance for the times in which he lived and struggled, and the rough work which fell to his lot to accom- plish, singularly consistent and complete. These matchless letters, breathing tenderness and pure friendship, bearing the impress of a mind regal in its simplicity, opening up the deep- est thoughts of his heart, and, in the almost infallible test of continuous and consecutive correspondence, subjecting him to B 10 CROMWELL AND » scrutiny which perhaps but few public men in troubled timea could creditably sustain, furnish ample confutation of the par- tial and puerile histories in which, through the medium of false and distorted facts and prejudices, our earliest impres- sions have in many cases been received. In the days of the Tudor Soverci<5n Henry VIII., an aspiring mercantile clerk plunged into political life, became Chief Min- ister of State, and the most active agent in the suppression of the Monasteries. To him, according to the great dramatist, Wolscy addressed the monitory words : — "Cromwell, I charge theo, fling away ambition ; Ijet all the ends thouaim'st at, bo thy Country's, Thy God's, and Truth's. Then if tliou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a bloseed martyr I" A nephew of this Cromwell, Sir Richard, greatly distin- guished himself at tilt and tournament, and, at the close of a grand contest at Westminster, where his prowess and chival- rous bearing won the admiration of brave and fair, he was met by the bluff King Harry, who much loved the champion spirit, with the royal salute : *' Formerly thou hast been my duck, hereafter thou shalt be my diamond." Sir Richard's son, Henry, was known for his great wealth and profuseness of expenditure as the golden knight ; and a younger son of this auriferous gentleman married a Scotch lady whose maiden name was Elizabeth Stuart — of the royal race, — and their second son, Oliver, became the Lord Protector of the English Commonwealth. At seventeen years of age young Oliver entered Cambridge University, and four years later we find him at the altar of old St. Giles' Church, Cripplegate, plighting his love and linking his life to Elizabeth — the accomplished daughter of Sir James Bourchier. In 1 628, he was of sufficient local importance to command the suffrages of the Huntingdon electors as their re- presentative in Parliament. The first appearance of Cromwell in the House of Commons was not prepossessing. He was a respectable farmer and moved in good society, but there was about him no expression THE IRONSIDES. 11 )ublcd timcB \ of the par- medium of licst imprcs- ., an aspiring e Chief Min- iipprcssion of at dramatist, Cromwell, jreatly distin- the close of a ss and chival- lir, he was met ampion spirit, )een my duck, lichard's son, profuseness of er son of this whose maiden le, — and their of the English ircd Cambridge the altar of old »ve and linking er of Sir James importance to j tors as their re- ase of Commons ble farmer and no expression of polish or gentlemanly refinement. Yet underneath com- mon appearance, manners uncourtly, seamed and sallow features and harsh untunabie voice, mi<;;ht be detected the elements of more than ordinary mind and manhood. A powerful frame, firmly compressed lips, a massive brow, over which fell flowing hair parted in the middle, and an attitude of great resoluteness, as of conscious destiny, marked him out for wreath and laurel in troubled times. His utterance was vehement, and his sen- tences often bewildering in their confused verbiage and gro- tesque shapes ; but yet the parliamentary speeches of Cromwell were often weighty in practical wisdom, and from the first were " very much hearkened unto." Now and then golden sen- tences fell from his lips, pithy proverbs, and sayings of clear ringing force. Having obtained, by promise of ample supplies, the King's assent to the famous " Petition of Right," next to the Magna Charta the great charter of English liberty, and being deter- mined to bind the Sovereign to an observance of the solemn compact, the Parliament in which Oliver Cromwell first took his seat, vexed into tempestuous violence, was hastily dissolved with the passionate threat : that " certain vipers must look for their reward." Deluded with the supposition that summary dismissal of Lords and Commons would carry to the mind of the nation salutary impression of the Sovereign prerogative, and secure to them fresh accession of power, his Majesty and his Majesty's courtiers revelled in illusivo visions of absolute and illimitable sway. These were days of deep humiliation — of perverted justice and trampled rights ; government without parliament, for nearly twelve years; arbitrary taxation ; uncon- stitutional levies ; forced loans ; exorbitant fines ; wholesale monopolies; forest e^tention and feudal exaction ; the Thorough, Star Chamber and High Commission ; the nation made to feel most unequivocally, as judicially announced in the Exchequer Court : that Lex was not Rex, but that Rex was Lex. Charles I., mainly responsible for the maladministration and deep humiliation of those days, had some redeeming qualities. Kind and affectionate as a husband and father, of refined taste, 12 CROMWELL AND dignifi{:l in mind and demeanour, courteous and winninj; in manners, he might have been esteemed in private life; but, from his foolish and pediintic fatlier, he had inlierited false notions of Anointed llights, he was destitute of administrative faculty, and he lacked paiiil'ully the eleuients of sincerity and truthfulness sacred to the Saxon Kace. He was given to dark, perverse, crooked ways; tlic Guise blood was in his veins. The administration of Charles owed its commanding power to •Sir Thomas Wcntworth, better known to us as the Earl of Strafford — the magnificent, haughty, and resolute Strafford. The ambition of this great statesman was unbounded and un- hallowed. At first in " Mutual league, United tliouglits and councelf, equalhopc, And hazard, in the glorious enterprise ;" he took part with the patriot leaders ; but, when the death of Buckingham left a vacancy near the throne, Wcntworth talked of "dangerous courses" and •• advantageous overtures," broke with the patriots, and gave the energy of his consummate genius and clear capacious mind to the King's despotic admin- istration. His far-reaching and deeply designed scheme of Thorough was to organize military force and to invest the Sovereign with absolute power. Never were the rights of a free people so deeply, darkly imperilled, so nearly wrencluwl from their keeping, as were those of the English nation at this crisis. The failure of Strafford's policy was the fault of feebler minds than his own. The proud majesty of this great Earl's presence — the daring, dazzling energy of his noble and powerful mind — the unrival- led capacity of his statesmanship — the captivating spell of his s^^lcndid eloquence — the famous trial at Westminster Hall, in which his imperious genius and almost defiant defence awed and thrilled a grand and august assembly — the sorrowful ex- clamation, when informed that the royal word, a frail depen- dence, pledged for his safety, had sealed his fate : Nolite confidere principibus ! — the execution on the Tower Hill, to which he went with the high proud bearing of a General THE IRONSIDES. IS winninjj in e lifo; but, eritcd fal-se uiiiihtrative uccrity and as ^ivcu to in his veins, iv^ power to the Earl of ,e Strafford, ded and uu- the death of worth talked ures," broke consuuiinate potic adiiiin- l scheme of invest the rights of u wrench(!(l at ion at this ult of feebler the daring, the unrival- spel! of his ter Hall, in efencc awed »rrowful ex- frail depcn- te : Nolite vcv Hill, to a General crowned with victorj, — have ijjivcn to his name and memory an imperishable but sad and mournful interest. " Then was a stately column broke ; The beacon light was quenched in smoke ; The truhipet's silver voice was still ; The warder silent on the hill." Tn cceln-jiastical aff;iirs. closely, too closely interwoven with state ndmiiiisiration, (.'harlcs found, in Archbishop Tiaud, a man Btill more after his own hoirt. This Primate was zealous in religion and temperate in habits of life ; but bigoted, harsh and vindictive. 11 is repelling prc>«ence, low forehead, pinched fea- tures and small suspicious eyes, were the type and counterpart of a narrow understanding, a p;'tty peevish spirit, a mean med- dling disposition, and gloomy superstitious habits of thought, which wove themselves into even his .sleeping hours. lie dreamt, as solemnly recorded with his own hand, of such evil and ominous things as apparitions, loose teeth and the scurvy. Under Laud's auspices, unpopular innovations wcie made in the established forms of worship. Canons and ceremonies were multiplied to a vexatious degree. For the upper classes were flowers and incense, millineries and upholsteries, and ft)r the common people were Sunday sports and games on the village green. And it was not enough to stifle devotion and to crush earnest thoughts in farce and frivolity ; there were other things than ritual and rubric, incense in the Church and sports in the field. For loyalty to conviction and conscience were whips and pillories, slit noses and mutilated ears, ruinous fines and perpetual imprisonment. A system of surveillance was ex- tended to every corner of the realm, and persecution made Fng- land merry England no more. Apparently the nation yielded Bullcn compliance; but the elements of resistance only slum- bered. Galled and irritated beyond enduratice, by this twofold tyranny of Straffoi-d and Laud, in many a hall and homestead were resolute men only biding their time; and their stern pur- pose was rapidly deepening into tremendous and tragic retri- bution. 14 CROMWELL AND One gleam of brightness appeared above the horizon in those dark disastrous days. A new world had arisen beyond the western wave. A number of distinguished patriots, despairing of liberty at home, projected a new England amid the wilds of North America ; and there, in the grand primevnl forest, found shelter for tliC sacred principles of freedom ; and full of heart and hope — " Shook the depths of the desert gloom. With their hymns of lofty cheer." From the sailing of the " May Flower," and the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in 1G20, four thousand men and women of the best and bravest of their race had crossed the Atlantic Ocean, and found a refuge in the new Colony. Oliver Crom- well, in 1637, was actually on board a ship in the Thames, bound to America, when, by a malicious order of Council, the ship was detained, and he went back to the Fen Country : from which he soon emerged as the conqueror of King and Council, and the teacher of " that sharp Whitehall lesson which a wit of the last century said had made kings ever since to awake with a crick in their necks on Charles the Martyr's day." An exhausted exchequer and war with Scotland, provoked by arbitrary ecclesiastical interference, compelled Charles as a last resource to summon the Legislature. Constituencies were awake, and the Long Parliament which met in 1640 fully re- presented the determined spirit of the nation, now exasperated beyond endurance by the filed and twisted links of a detested administration ; and it included some of the most distinguished men, eloquent orators, and sagacious statesmen, that ever have^ had a place in that groat National Assembly. Cromwell who, for manly resistance to grasping proprietors in the drainage of Cambridgeshire marshes, was popularly known as the Lord of the Fens, sat for Cambridge. Grievances were now redressed with unsparing hand; the boundaries of Constitutional liberty were accurately defined ; Strafford was impeached and Laud imprisoned; the Star Chamber and High Commission were swept away j a " Grand Remonstrance " was presented to the orizon in those jn beyond the lots, despairing id the wilds of il forest, found id full of heart landing of the and women of I the Atlantic Oliver Crom- 1 the Thames, of Council, the Country : from g and Council, n which a wit since to awake .yr's day." and, provoked d Charles as a iituencies were 1G40 fully re- )W exasperated s of a detested distinguished that ever have romwcU who, le drainage of as the Lord of now redressed utional liberty cd and Laud iniission were cscntcd to the THE IRONSIDES. 16 i King. Extreme measures produced reaction, a royalist party was organized, and law-loving men, shrinking from revolu- tionary movement, rallied around the Throne. From that disruption, in the Long Parliament, dates organ- ized political party which, under various names, Koyalist and Round-head, Tory and Whig, Conservative and Liberal, has preserved the balance of Parliamentary power, and proved of great and signal advantage in the dispatch of public business, both in Imperial and Colonial legislation. To the same period we trace back the two great classes, Cavalier and Puritan, into which the nation was long divided. On both sides were men little better than caricatures of the great body to which they belonged : the blustering, boisterous, heartless Cavalier, and the solemn, simpering, praise-God-bare-bones Puritan. And in either rank, at the other extreme, were men like the accom- plished patriot Hampden and the chivalrous royalist Falkland, who closely resembled each other, and who, by wisdom and moderation, commanding ability and unimpeachable integrity, inspired the nation, irrespective of sect or party, with esteem and confidence. The stamina and strength of the royal cause were in brave, thoughti'ul, loyal men, who clung and clave to the order of the olden time ; and who fought and fell for Church and State, for throne and altar, for hearth and roof-tree, and for the glorious banner beneath which their fathers had marched to battle and to victory. And Puritans of the genuine stamp, of the east and calibre of Oliver Cromwell and his compeers, were grand and noble men — calm, strong, sagacious, inflexible — I'eariiig nothing but God, penetrated to self-abasement by the consciousness ol' a Divine Presence, and holding lightly in comparison all lesser and lower distinctions. " If," according to the eulogy of the brilliant Essayist, which forms one of the finest par^sages in English literature, '* their names were not in the register of heralds ; they were written in the Book of Life. If their steps were not accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions of ministering spirits had charge over them. Their palaces 16 CROMWELL AXD were houses not made with hands, and their diadems were crow ;S of glory that should not fade away. On the rich and the eloquent, on nobles and priests, they looked with contempt j for they esteemed themselves rich in a more precious treasure, and eloquent in a more sublime language — nobles by right of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier hand." The organization of the Royalists was accomplished by men of great sagacity and wise statesmanship. Able and experi- enced counsellors were selected as responsible advisors to the Sovereign — somewhat on the principle, and containing the germ of Cabinet administration, so admirable in our times. But his ^lajesty, who had promised to consult his Constitu- tional advisers, proved incurably prone to a wretched King- craft, — he preferred other counsels, and all was thrown into confusion by his perverse and crooked policy. Attcuipting the arrest, by military fore , of fi.e popular leaders in the House of Commons, Charles found the "birds had flown," the cry of privilege was muttered along the benches, and the City echoed with the revolutionary shout, — the Scripture phrase- ology of which sounds strangely to us, but the Saxon Hible was still a fresh book in the English nation, — " To your tents Israel." The train-bands of London paraded the streets, thousands of yeomanry rode up from the Provinces to West- minster, to protect their representatives, the King w;:s com- pelled to flee from Whitehall, and the nation, chiefly through the falseness and duplicity of Charles Stuart, was plunged into fratricidal strife. For nine long years the battle of royal and parliamentary forces, with its various and alternating Ibr- tunes, swept through the land; and to this day many a noble pile of church and castled architecture bears trace of that con- vulsive strife. From the Wars of the Hoses, a century and a half earlier, there had been no civil conflict in England ;• and, from the defeat of the Armada, there had been little of serious or severe military drill. No wonder, as the two armies, royal and par- liamentary, met at Edgehill, near Nottingham, on the 16th of THE IRONSIDES. 17 October, 11)42, and looked upon war for the first time, tliut throu^'li the nonn-tide hours of that autumnal iSahhath, they silently confronted each other, as if reluctant to break the lonjj; peace, or to stain with blood the ^reen slopes around them. Few of them had spent a Sabbath on tlie field of battle, rnd not solitary, probably, was the fittinj; prayer of the bravo Sir Jacob Astlcy, " If I fonjrt Thee, O Lnnl, this ^A/y, tlo V'lf Thou furi/ct me." When the battle had spent its tumult, and night had j:;athered around the combatants, no ground had been lost or won ; but four thousand Mnglishmen were silent on that field of death. The parliamentary troops wire at first superior in nuiid)L'rs, but of inferior material. The relative! (lualities ol'the eont(!nd- I inii: armies did not eseajie the keen eye id" Oliver (.'romwell. • It fortns no part of my plan, before this audience, to enter upf'n any critical analysis of the eharacter or career of Croni- 1 1 1 „ :., fi,« ] well — illustrated and sustained bv (liiiitations from the •• Letters lar leaders m tlie . ^ - » and Speeches," — lor whieh the entire space ol';i lecture would be demanded ; — but I cannot (unit one paragra[)h from the re- miniscences of the Protectc.ir, in a speech t(» his second i^arlia- ment, of almost unique pers;)ii;d and historic interest: " I was a person who from my first employment was suddenly preferred and lifted up I'rom lesser trusts to greater, IVom my first being Captain of a Troop of Horse: and did labor as well as I could to discharge my trust, and God b!e.-sed me therein as it pleased Ilim. And [ did truly and plainly — and in a 1 «,i 'Way of foolish simplicity, as it was judged by very jireat and lart, was plungea ,•' i.^ j i^ j j t^ ,, , ^,1 .. ,„i !wise men, and good nien too, — desire to make my instruments the battle ot royal • . . . . , ,, .• <• „ help me in that work. And I will deal plainly with you : I id alternating lor- ' _ i j j 1 r 1 diad a very worthy friend then ; and he was a very noble per- hiy many a noble ; . . . " n'.^ . „ son, and T know that his memory is very grateful to all, — Mr. trace or that con- ' .... John Hampden. At my first going (jut into this engagenumt, 1 I ic i:^- ;1 saw our men were beaten at every hand. I did indeed ; and iiid a halt earlier. ; _ •' _ _ ' 1 J r ♦!.« desired him that he would make some achJitions to my Lord 1,- and, ironi the ^ ^ _ •' n • „. Essex's army, of some new regiments ; and I told him I would ^i serious or severe . . . . P . 1 1 „ be serviceable to him in bringint: such men in as I thought had royal and par- . ' . , , . " 1 irtu of ^ spi'it that would do somcthin<; in the work. This is very sir diadems were On the rich and d with contempt J precious treasure, nobles by right of tion of a mightier 3mpHshed by men Able and ex peri- c advisers to the | \ containing the ble in our times, isult liis Constitu- 1 wretched King- was thrown into j licy. Attempting ] ds had flown," the ^hcs, and the City Scripture phrasc- the Saxon Bible | — " To your tents •aded the streets, ovinces to Wcst- King wr.s com- chiefly through 18 CROMWELL AND true that I tell you ; God knows that I lie not. ' Your troops,' said I, ' are most of them old decayed servinj^-men, and tapsters and such kind of fellows; and,' said I, ' their troops are gen- tlemen's sons, younger sons and persons of quality : do you think that the spirits of such base and mean fellows will ever be able to encounter gentlemen, that have honor and courage and resolution in them ?' Truly, I did represent to him in this manner conscientiously ; and truly I did tell him : ' You must get men of a spirit : and take it not ill what I say, — 1 know you will not, — of a spirit that is likely to go on as far as gentlemen will go : — or else you will be beaten still.' I told him so ; I did truly. lie was a wise and worthy person ; and he did think that I talked a good notion, but an impracticable one. Truly I told him I could do somewhat in it. I did so — did this somewhat — and truly I must needs say this to you, the result was — impute it to what you please, — I raised such men as had the fear of God before them, as inadc some conscience of what they did ; and from that day forward, 1 must say to you, they were never beaten, and wherever they were engaged against the enemy they beat continually." Onward the tide of battle surged, often gloomily for the parliamentary cause, but with still a bright light in Cronnvell's conquering track, until, at the battle of Marston Moor, the great qualities of his mind and military genius broke forth into a blaze of splendour that caught the eye of the nation. On an English summer day, in the beginning of July, lG-i3, when the woods were in their greenest foliage and the harvest was ripening in the fields, close by the city of York, in which the boom of battle could be distinctly heard, upon a broad heath known as Marston Moor, stood forty-six thousand men, of the same race and speech, burghers from the same town, u.id bro- thers from the same hearthstone, compelled to take sprigs of brooms and furze in hat and helmet, as the only badge of dis- tinction between friend and foe ; charging on the one side for " God and the King," and answering on the other ''God with us." Fronted by a broad deep ditch, exposed to a concentra- ted and deadly fire, Cromwell cleared, by a wide circle, lanes Your troops,' , and tapsters oops are gen- lity : do you ows will ever ' and courage it to him in I him : ' You lat I say, — 1 on as far as itill.' I told person ; and impracticable . I did so — jr this to you, se, — I raised is inade some ly forward, 1 rhcrever they iially." mily for the Croniwell's Moor, the e forth into ion. On an 1043, when [harvest was In which the broad heath men, of the n, li.id bro- e sprigs of laduje of dis- )ne side for '' God with concentra- ircle, lanes THE IRONSIDES. 19 and ditches, and sweeping the open Moor, charged and shat- tered the royalist flank ; then, rapidly wheeling his conquering cavalry round their centre to the left, he found the array of battle changed; for, at the other wing, "Rupert of the Rhine," having broken by impetuous charge, and routed with great slaughter the force opposed to him, wheeled his fierce troopers round to the right ; and, iu the gathering dusk of that summer evening, each on ground the other had occupied, alike flushed with supposed victory, the fiery Rupert and the irro^ pressible Cromwell dashed front upon front, like the fierce tempest wave upon the rugged ocean rock, and the passionate Prince and his proud cavaliers were shattered in pieces like the broken spray. As they turned the tide of battle at Marston Moor, Crom- well's troopers received their imperishable name of Ironsides. The peculiarity of those famous Ironside soldiers was the combination of deep conviction with strictly military character — burning enthusiasm with stubborn courage — the thrill of spiritual fervour with the intensity of martial fire. They fought and prayed with equal alacrity. They trusted in God and relied on their pikes. " Armed within," says Whitclocke, '' with their good conscience, and without by their good iron arms, they would to a man stand firmly and charge desperately. They were never surpassed as pikemen, and they were equally gifted in exposition of the word and prayer. In disciplined culture and resolute firmness, they closely resembled the Prus- sian levies of the present time. Their qualities (jf conscience and courage were sternly tested j for a military fup, or a blus- tering poltroon, was as thoroughly detested by Colonel Cromwell as by the fiery Hotspur of the North : — " For he made me mad To Bee him shine so brisk and smell so sweet ; And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman, Of guns, and drums, and wounds ; And telling me that the Sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmeceti, for an inward bruise ; — And that it was a great pity, so it was, That villamoua saltpetre should bo digged 20 CROMWELL AND Out of the bowels of tlie hartnk'ss eurth, Which many a good tall follow liiul (li'ftroycfl So cowardly ; and huf /or these vile (f unit, He hiintu'lf would have broi a soldier.'^ The memory oftlie Ironsides is :i proud national inheritance. In comparison Avitli llussia, Germany, and other Continental countries, the standinu; army of Great Britain is small ; and the fear has been expressed that she could not, in a j;reat duel of nations, maintain her position and prestiue as a first class power in Kurope. I'ut for all defen*ut inveterate Machiavclianism of his Majesty, Cromwell was compelled to become one with the Puritan leaders, who, in their memorable prayer- meeting at Windsor, resolved to call Charles Stuart to account, and, who, after their victory over Hamilton and the Scotch, demanded justice on the '' Chief Delinquent." In a great national struggle, the fine lines of constitutional action and of sound policy arc seldom minutely traced ; and wo need not be surprised that these Puritan warriors committed grave and grievous error. Conscientinm 7neii, dealing largely in Old Testament analogies, breathing the spirit of an ancient host, commissioned to root out and destroy a doomed race, they could not consent to unrighteous compromise : the man of blood must be made an example of righteous retribution to all the potentates of the earth. Com'trsant with public affairs, for they were practical statesmen, they knew from recent reaction and revolt, the danger of organized movement, in which the king, more arbitrary and despotic than ever, might be placed upon the throne, and the fruit of long terrible strife be utterly sacrificed. In the name of the Commons and people of England, therefore, before the High Court at Westminster was Charles Stuart arraigned as " tyrant, traitor, marderer and enemy to the public peace " The third signature on the death warrant of the king was that of Oliver Cromwell. He knew nothing of preliminary arrangements, according to his own solemn protest, but now that the matter was in hand the^ must carry it through. They did carry it through. In front of the banqueting house, at Whitehall, in the broad light of day, severed by a single stroke of the axe, the royal head rolled on the scaffold. Cromwell never, in after days, as far as can be known — even to trusted friends — alluded to the tragic deed. A faithless prince in captivity or exile would have excited no deeper sympathy than did the later abdication and dethronement of James : but faithlessness and perfidy appeared very different when viewed through the mirage of martyrdom. Charles was canonized. For generations, in the National Church, his name and memory were consecrated by the sacredness of re- ligious service, and for him was claimed a recognition accorded S4 CROMWELL AND only to the constancy and chivalrous fidelity of •' the noble army of martyrs." The executioners of the kinir committed a fatal error in policy ; but there can bo no greater i'oUy than the glorification of ('liarlcs Stuart. Time, however, wonder- fully rectifies the blunders of erring mortals, and, upon this Hubject, wo have encouraging symptoms of returning sanity. The next most doubtful act of Cromwell's career was the Irish Camjiaign. " He descended on Ireland," says Ci'.rlyle, ** like the hammer of Thor, smote it at one fell stroke into dust and ruin, t)cvcr to ri.se against him more." Deeds of wholesale terrible slaughter, at Drcjghcda atjd Wexford, almost to externjination, nunked the relentless track of thccoiKjueror. "The curse of Cromwell" is still in Ireland the strongest ex- pression of deep and settled hatred to the Saxon race. These acts of severity were deemed to bo necessary war-measures, (c.nditKj to prevent the fffuAinu ofJtUxxl In the future. ]Jut the most that can be said in behalf of Oliver's administration in Ireland, is that the country, long wasted and deluged with blood, was changed into a scene of trancjuiiity and enterprise. As Commander-in Chiel'of the armies oi'the Commonwealth, (^romwcll next cro.^sed the Tweed with eleven thousand men. to deal with the turbulent Scot as ho had done with the restle.^s Celt. In two great battles he broke in pieces the military power of Scotland ; and the vigour of his administration in repressing the violence of the nobles, in preparing the way for an incorporating union and years of great prosperity, gave new evidence ol" consummate wisdom of statesmanship. At Dunbar, a great peril awaited the English General and his army. The Scotch, under the brave and accomplished David Leslie, were strongly posted on the amphitheatre of hills, while the only southern pass was securely guarded. But Cromwell '' was a strong man in the perils of war, and in the high places of the field hope shone on him like a pillar of fire when it had died out in all others." He exhorted his Ironsides to watch and pray, to look to heaven for protection, and to keep their powder dry, lor the night was windy, wild and wet. At day-break the Scotch rushed down the hill of Down, urged th. of bel ide THE IRONSIDES. of •' the noble )f theeon(iucror. lie strongest ex- :on race. These y war-measures. future. 15ut the dministration in nd deluged with V and enterprise. ; Coninionwealth. thousand men. with the restless CCS the military dministration in ring the way for perity, gave new *p. At Dunbar, his army. The lavid Leslie, were , while the only romwell " was a les to watch and to keep their and wet. At of Down, urged on by their fiery self-willed preachers, with the shout of " the Kirk and the Covenant," and they were met by the Puri- tan battle shout, " The Lord of Hosts." A short, sharp strug- gle, and the stern Covenanters wavered. Just as the rising sun scattered the morning mist, and gleamed brightly over slope and sea, Oliver exclaimed : Let God arUe^ let Uh enemfcs be scattered ; and led his pikemen to the charge. Nothing could withstand the resistless onset. He shattered in pieces and utterly routed the host of the Covenant, then, baring his fur- rowed brow to the morning breeze, with his conquering Iron- sides around him, gave out the 117th Psalm : " O give ye thanks unto the Lord," and above the smoke of battle rose and rolled the warrior strain of praise and thanksgiving. Of Oliver Cromwell's military life, the closing scene was the battle of Worcester, on the 3rd of September, fought under the walls of the city, up to the gates, and partially renewed in the streets, which gained for Worcester, because of its fidelity to the failing fortunes of the Stuarts, the distinguishing title of the Faithful Cift/; which left the second Charles a wan- derer and an exile, and which to Cromwell proved once more a fortunate day. " The dimensions of the mercy were above his thoughts j for aught he knew it was a crowning victory." In this battle, as in all others, Cromwell ascribed victory to Almighty God. He was imbued with the spirit of ancient Hebrew Kings and warriors, and marched to battle in the name and in the might of the Lord of Hosts. The only complete parallel to this Cromwellian strain, in modern days, we have in the military despatches of the veteran King of Prussia, now Emperor of Germany. " Every one must see," wrote Cromwell) that there has been no other hand in it but in the glory )/ God and the salvation of the Country." '• I bow myself before God," wrote William from Sedan, quite as resolutely identifying his projects with the designs of Providence, " who alone has chosen me and my army and my allies to accomplish' C ' . I from Worcester, " that there has been no other hai ^ ' 1 J J- JthatofGod. Our soldiers have been tWrttmen^tiif L , -i of God and the salvation of the Countru." '• I 26 CROMWELL AND this work ; and has appointed us the iiintrnmcnts of Ilh loill." Worcester was to Cromwell a crowning mercy, and with proud, gay, and now sorrowful Paris, humbled to the dust, prostrate at his feet, William thanks God for this fresh mercy. And the Prussian conqueror has much in common with the Pro- tector — the same Teutonic blood, the same type of character, the same kind of intuitive perceptions — for apparently he never chooses the wrong man, — the same military genius, gaining inspiration from prayer and trust in God; and both arc "Ricli in saving common sense As the greatci^t only are." One prayer at least of the chivalrous and, we would fain hope and believe, conscientious and pious old king, when assuming the imperial crown of Germany, will meet with wide and fer- vent response : " God grant that nie and my successors may protect the empire, not by warlike conquests, but by works of peace, freedom and civilization." Only let united Germany inscribe this motto upon the imperial standard : works of peace, freedom and civilization, and, whatever our misgivings may have been, we shall say, " God speed the Fatherland." The victor of Worcester became, as 31 ikon wrote, '' Chief of Men," and Master of the Revolution : " Who through a cloud Not of war only, but detractions rude, Guided by faith, and matchless fortitude, To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough'd, And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud Hast reared God's trophies and His work pursued, While Darwen stream with blood of Scots imbrued, And Dunbar's field resounds thy praises loud, And Worcester's laureat wreath ; yet much remains To conquer still ; peace hath her victories No less renowned than war." The transition from civil war to established government, al-i ways difficult, was extremely so at the beginning of the Com- monwealth. The first act of Cromwell's administration, though j imperatively demanded, stamped upon his government the character of violent usurpation. That great and memorable] THE IRONSIDES. fl» of ///s loilir d with proud, ust, prostrate mercy. And vith the Pro- j of character, cntly he never ^nius, gaining both arc ■ould lain hope ft-hcii assuming I wide and fcr- succcssors may )ut by works of uitcd Germany ard : works of our misgivings Fatherland." rote, " Chief of lough'd, Irsued, liibrued, Inaina Government, al- [ng of the Com- Itration, though lovernment the! md memorable TiOng Parliament, now only the remnant of pride's purge, contemptuously designed the Rump, instead of voting honorable dissolution, manoeuvred for the possession of oligarchial power : '• Get you gone," said the scornful Dictator, " Get you gone !" They refused to attend to business of State, and he sent them packing about their own business. Military leaders and the army intolerant of all monarchial forms; nobles at their coun- try mansions in sullen mood, and royalists plotting for power; evils generated by tyranny, and civil war unchained by the spirit of freedom ; restless and aspiring men thirsting for revenue and ambitious of distinction ; levellers threatening' the country with anarchy and social convulsion ; the difficulties of administration were all but insuperable. The Lord General was no longer, however, the simple Puritan squire or Lord of the Fen country. Ills mind expanded with the greatness of the occasion, and by the " right divine of the gift of ruling," he proved himself regal in all but name. flad Cromwell's administration not been thwarted by obstre- perous parliaments, given to petty discussion rather than to the dis])atch of public business, it would probably have been a model of moderation, wisdom and firmness; and with all its disadvantages, the 1^'otectorate is entitled to honorable recog- nition, and a bright record in the annals of English history. In an age of political and ecclesiastical intolerance, civil and religious liberty were established to an extent before unparal- leled ; constitutional law up(in a greatly improved system was ably and impartially administered ; parliamentary representa- tion was reformed with such thoroughness that even now, after centuries of tolerant legislation and enlightened state policy, we seem to be but working out the same programme ; the public service was opened to iair and honorable (tompet-ition ; |learning and literature were patronized and protected; Oxford and Cambridge were fostered, and a new University, Durham. Iwas founded. Fiminent men, such as Owen, I sher and Taylor, irrespective of party or political principles, were specially dis- |tinguished. On the Bench was Sir Matthew Hale, CROMWELL A^D "For deep discernment praised, And sound integrity not more than famed For sanctity of manners undefiled," John Howe, the illustrious author of the ]iiving Temple, wasp appointed Chaplain to the Protector; while -greater Milton, |; blind and already meditating his sublime and immortal song,| rendered important service as Latin Secretary. ^^ The consummate ability of Cromwell's civil administration | was even surpassed by the splendid successes of his foreign policy. The maritime superiority of England, lost under the Stuarts, was regained, and the United Provinces, Avhose Admiral • sailed through the channel with a broom at his mast head, to show the broken condition of England's naval power, were glad to accept of peace on any terms. With Denmark, a special treaty of commerce was negotiated. He sent an embassy to Sweden, and won the romantic interest of the young Queen Christiana. He commanded the friendship of France — of the haughty Louis and of the brilliant and crafty Mazarin, froir whom he received costly presents of wine, tapestry and ]}ar-| bary horses. The proud Empire of Spain was humbled, ho treasure brought in triumph to London, and the valuable island of Jamaica wrenched from her western possessions He chas tised the pirates of Tunis and Tripoli, long the terror of com r ci merce and the scourge of the high seas. Under the conqucringj sea-king, Blake, he swept the Mediterranean, and fixed hi eagle eye on the fortress of Gibraltar as a most desirable acqui sition to his country. The Vatican was threatened with the thunder of his guns, and persecuted communities in the distant Alpine Valleys, and the suffering Protestants of blood-stainec [^ Piedmont were protected by the potency of his name. By th( greatness of his deeds and the renown of his fame, he filled th distant parts of Asia, and amongst oriental Jews his genealogy is said to have become a question of interest, for they though to discover in him the long-expected " Lion of the tribe o Judah." He realized the " splendid improbability" that, befor his death, he would make '' the name of an Englishman a much feared as ever wass that of an ancient Roman." The oi re be pr Ki rc] o Ki W THE IRONSIDES. 29 •aised, ,ine(l was evoked that spirit of intense patriotism which, in the parent land, still breathes and burns — a spirit and feeling of proud nationality without which no people can ever be great, noble vin" Temple wa^r^and progressive. Let us take care, standing on the threshold c greater MiltonJ id immortal song,, ry. vil administration ses of his foreign: ind, lost under the ces, whose Admiral | , his mast head, to al power, were glad )enmark, a special of a new Pmipire, that, in the wider expansion of commercial and )smop()litan sytnpathies, we do not lose the pure healthy glow of race and nationality : Ereathcs there a man with soul so dead, Wlio never to himself luitli said, This is mv own, mv native land.' If such there breathe, go mark him well ; For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, j^roud his name, Eoundless his wealtii as wish can claim ; Despite those tith's, power and pelf, Tlie wretcli, concentred all on self. Living, shall forfeit fair renown. And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, uuhonored, and unsung." jcnt an embassy to the young Queen ) of France — of the ifty INIazarin, i'ronv ^P 1 1 1 1 J I" allusion to the captured ships and treasures of Spain, the was humbled, net i • i u . -x x u i ^u fetate was advised, by a contemporary writer, to melt down the the valuable island sessions He chas the terror of com- idcr the conquering [can, and fixed his »st desirable acqui ircatened with th( ities in the distan rich ore, and to make for the Protector, a sceptre and royal orown of Spanish gold; and in March, 1057. after much nego- tiation, not conducted greatly to the credit of either party, I*arliament offered to the Protector the Sovereign title. Mo- Lady Frances, and that these attentions were reciprocrated. Entering his daugliter's room unexpectedly, Cromwell caught the Chaplain — Mr. Jeremy White — upon his knees, and sternly demanded the meaning of such a freedom. '' May it please your Highness," said White, pointing to a lady's maid, present in the room, '• I have long courted that gentlewoman and can- not prevail ; I was theiefore huuibly praying her ladyship to intercede for me," " Mr. White," said his Highness to the lady, " is a friend of mine, why do you refuse him that honor ?" •' If Mr. White intends me that honor," the wily maiden mod- estly answered, " I shall not be against hini." '' Sayest thou 30 ?" exclaimed Cromwell, witli a merry twinkle in his eye, " call Goodwin and the business sluil) be finished." Mr. Jeremy White had gone too far to recede. Goodwin, the senior Chap- Iain, made his appearance, and the matrimonial knot was tied on the spot. They lived together for fifty years. By alliance with old and wealthy families of the realm, Cromwell acquired social and aristocratic prestige ; and had his life been spared a few years longer, he might possibly have rallied the nobility in support of his government. As it was, they stood aloof; and the House of Lords, as constituted under the Commonwealth, was a failure. This was not the I'rotec- tor'sonly parliamentary perplexity. Tlie Commons numbered many fierce and factious sectaries, who looked upon the moderate and magnanimous policy of Cromwell and his ad- ministration as worldly and time-serving compromise. •• My Lords and Gentlemen,"' said his Highness to his last Farlia- lucat, on the 11th of February, 1G5S, •• I would be glad to THE IRONSIDES. 31 bound Bible, gold. t inaugural, be and the honor r the beautiful f gossip, going s ears. It was rs and courtly ind impressible i rceiprucrated. •omwell caught ees, and sternly ' May it please 's maid, present roman and can- g her ladyship [lighness to the ni that honor?" ly maiden mod- ' Saycst thou u his eye, " call Mr. Jeremy le senior Chap- knot was tied of the realm, igc ; and had possibly have . As it was, stituted under ut thu Protec- ous numbered ed upon the 1 and his ad- omise. •• My lis lust Parlia- dd bo glad to have lived under my woodside and to have kept a flock of sheep, rather than to have undertaken such a government.'' As if in anticipation of the conflict of opinion which should be waged in determining the question of his honesty or hypocrisy, and the place which he should fill in history, Cromwell's last utterance was an appeal to Divine decision : And let God be judge hcticccn you and mc ! As the summer wore on, the Protector's robustness and strength of body and mind gradually and greatly relaxed. After a stormy night, which shook through the casements of the palace, and tore up great trees in the royal park, dawned the fortunate day, the 3rd of September, the day of Dunbar, the day of Worcester, and now the day of his last crowning victory. As miglit be expected, from the great earnestness of Crom- well's religious character, his last thouglits were not of national policy or of'- the mazes of statecraft," but of the Spiritual, the Unseen and the Piternal, " He fell with all his weight of cares, Upon the great world's aUar stairs Which slope through darkness up to God." With sepulchral pomp the remains of the Lord Protector were borne to "Westminster Abbey, and rendered to the mould in the ancient burial place of kings ; and there, " amid the solemn and tender gloom," we fain would leave the great Puritan. We have no pleasure in thinking of the dishonor done to him at the KesLoration, in transferring his remains from the magni- ficent royal Chapel to Tyburn ; no heart to speak of the scenes of shame and profligacy, of wild riot and deep national humilia- tion which I'ullowed the Protectorate ; no patience to remember that, while Stuart's statues crown the noblest S(juares of English cities, and portraits of the indolent and frivolous Charles IT. and his voluptuous beauties line the national galleries, no fit- ting place can yet be found for the able.-t statesman, the greatest soldier, and the most magnanimous and enlightened ruler of his time. •' England," says Cioldwin Smith, '' feels safer beneath the tugis of his victorious name ; and the thought 82 CROMWELL AND THE IRONSIDES. returns in danger, not that we may have a Marlborough or a Black Prince, but that the race which produced a Cromwell, may at its need produce his peer; and that the Spirit of the great Usurper may again stand forth in arms." Then let England, in truthful accordance with her convic- tions '^nd for Oliver Cromwell a place in her trophied temples, and a niche of honor amongst her ancient and renowned kings. We cannot pass away from that scene of revolutionary con- flict without gratitude for the tranquility which has marked all later progress. We have had all the great and beneficent results of revolution without the heave and throe of convulsive struggle. The abolition of slavery, the corn laws, non-inter- vention as the guiding policy of the nation, the educational movement, Church and State legislation, the confederation of Colonial Empire all belong to the Revolution of the 19th cen- tury — a revolution accomplished without bloodshed. The work of Cromwell, and the men of his time, was so com- plete, that ever since the British nation has been saved from the necessity of revolutionary struggle. Nor do we see any sign of national degeneracy. More magnificent than Babylon of old, more intellectual than Greece in her palmiest days, more power- ful than imperial Rome, foremost of modern States in all that constitutes the greatness of kingdoms, the old Spanish boast is with her, sober truth, for on her vast domain the sun never sets. Great and victorious in war, greater and more potent in the rivalries of peace — with vastly augmented material re- sources, an intelligent and powerful press, more powerful in this age than the artillery of kings, constitutional government, the sheltering ^ses to excited thousands, assembled to hear him, exasperated their minds beyond endurance, and produced deep and settled hatred of the Saxon race. In those troubled times, the spirit of liberty had been evoked : sometimes it found expression in lawless deed and revolutionary threat j but it was the inauguration of a new and nobler era in liberal and progressive legislation. No longer, as of old. could the rising spirit of Freedom be stifled by the loyal, but conservative and often obstructive cry --(jodsave the King" or " Rule lirittania." The Reform Rill, which swe])t away rotten boroughs and cniVanchised new constituencies, was the most important parliamentary nieasure oi' which the friends of liberty could boast since the ]>ill of Rights became the law of I'ing- land ) and for the space of (;ne generatii'U, it set at rest the great (juestions of electoral privilege and jiarliamentary repre- sentation. Strange would it \\;i\c seemed to the unyielding Toryism of tluit day, could it have been known that the next great Reform Rill, lately the battle-ground of party, giving a wide extension of the Iranchise — anu fraught with vast issues to the Rritish people — would be carried by the Party tradi- tionally opposed to liberal legislation and constitutional change. Such were the trouble venerable IJiblical scholars, to whom we owe our adiiiiral>lt? lauthorised version of the sacred Scriptures, were outdone in their strains of adulation by the officials of Shrewsbury, who .w.v.>fn<1 Bexpressed a liope that his •• 3Iaiestv might live and reign as iini, exaspeiaieu ■ x i j j o o 1 1 •,.ttlr.f1 ■I'jntr as the sun and moon and stars endured." J'ut what deep and bcttlea B • ladbecn evoked : ind revolutionary 7 and nobler era nger, as of old. y the loyal, but ve the King" or I'pt away rotten '.s, was the most i-iends of liberty ihe law of Kng- set at re^t the anient ary repre- tlie unyielding II that the next party, giving a with va^t i.-sues tlie Party tradi- ilutional change. Uchard Cobden entleuuinly de- lo^ Lvails such false and flattering recognition ? The IJard of Scot- llaud has uttered the truth, — " Ye see yon birkie, ca'il a lord, Wlui struts imd stares and a" that ; Tlio' hundreds worsliip at his word, He's but a coof, for a' that." On the other hand, many of the best and greatest of men, arnest toilers and daring thinkers, have been (tverlookcd, their rt'calth of mind unappreciated, and their message unheeded jeoause of their mean birth and I'lwly life. •• T/m/ ntqirofrs ■ioiii// !li Isles vntli a iiet w.»ik of roll that should revolutionize all trade and tralF;.' and travel ; )ut England owes more to (ieorge Stephen.^ »n, t i his patient lodding toil and genius, than tn all the ])rofe.ssional mediocrity f the time — with many stars and garters into the bargain. 'A/ he /.s ouh/ a harJi<:}\ sneered the silken aristocrat as the lain earnest Saxon, lliehard Cobden, came to the front, *0h ' e is only a barker, there's nothing in him." IJut Cobden was lore than a barker. He was brave and chivalrous in soul. war .'m COB DEN AND riclily ^^fted with vj^rorons scnso, possessed of persistent un- Oiltoriiig purpose, and his name soon represented a new power in tlie nation. We do not stop to ask in this praetieal utilitarian age, whence a man eanie : we do not much heed hoasted lineage unless there bcevidcjice of the high hereditary qualities by which ancestry has heen distinguished A man n)ay have the blood of the Courtenays or IMontniorencies in his veins ; but has he power ? has he a heart to dare ? a h;ind to do '{ a clear brain, a rapid eye. saving common sense and capacity for sheer work ? Deep truth has the liaureate embodied in his lines : " 'Tis only noble to be good : Kind liearts are more tlian coronet?, And simple faith than Norman blood." The world-growing feeling of the age was well represented in the life nf Uichard Cobden, the typical Englishman. " lie was a man." said liord I'almcrston. " who might be considered to be peculiarly emblematicMl of the Constitution under which we have the happiness to live, because he rose to great emi- nence in this House, and rose to aojiiire an ascendency in the public mind, not by virtue of any family connectinn, but solely and entirely in conserjuence of the power and vigour of his mind, that power and vigour being applied to purposes evi dently advantageous to his country." The story of Cobden's life, in outline, may be given in a few words. A Sussex farmer's son, compelled by the small- ness of hereditary estate to carve a new pathway in life, lu' plunged into the great world of London, and became an appren- tice in a large warehouse with no very promising prospects of emerging I'rom obscurity. Faithfully he performed allotte duty, and soon impressed upon others a sense of his superiority A commercial traveller was laid aside by sickness ; Cobdei took his place and showed special aptitude for the work. A he travelled through Lancashire, with quick observant eye an business keenness, he discovered the great natural resources o the country and their availableness for manufacturing purposes He entered into business, on his own account, with small capi THE CORN LAWS. vt r persistent un- ,cd a new power ri:m age, whence juiic unless there : whieh ancestry :he blood of the it has he power ? ir brain, a rapid ir sheer work ? lines : f, >od." ill represented in (rlishnian. '• He ght be considered tion under which rose to jiTcat enii- iscendency in the conni'ction, but ,ver and vigour of d to purposes evi- ky be given in ; |led by the small thway in life, hi iccame an appren |ising prospects o rfornied allotted )fhissuperi(n-ity ickncss ; Cobdci r the work. A; ibservant eye an ural resources o turing purposes I, with small capi tal, but with much experience ami ample business capacity. He became a Lanca.shire njanufacturcr, pushed his way into new marketa, rapidly took his place amongst the nuignatcs ot Hrilish commerce, and realized, at thirty-five years of age, an annual income of ^10,000. Tlien, iVom sheer sense of duty, instead of settling down as a Cotton lord or millionaire, he sacrificed his splendid business, entered into political life, carried the Repeal of the Corn Laws, was oflered, in recogni- tion of his service, a IJaronetcy and a seat in Privy Council, but declined the lionorable distinction, and to the last remained one of the people. More precious in his estimation, than here- ditary distinction, or the coveted prizes of statesmanship, wcc unsullied integrity and the maintenance of sacred principle ; and so, lest these should be imperilled, he preferred to remain untitled, and at last, as if undistinguished, he was borne to rest in a (juiet Sussex burial ground. In the early days of warehouse routine and of commercial travel, young Cobden's thirst for knowledge was intense, and every spare moment was devoted to the study of books, lie was warned by his first master in the London establishment, whose failure he lived to see, that such close application to books would ruin his business prospects. IJut tlie young mer- chant was no mere book worm, nor did he s(juander golden moments and enervate his mind by devouring literary trash. He read and mastered solid and instructive works — such as Smith's " Wealth of Nations ;" and early laid the foundation of accurate and comprehensive knowledge. The speeches and published works of Cobden — the last of whieh under the title of " Political Writings," in two volumes, have been recently issued — afford ample evidence of mental culture and high philosophical attainment ; while in political economy and prac- Itical statesmanship he had perhaps scarcely a rival amongst iving Englishmen — not at least amongst English politicians. The Educational question was the fir-st to engage the atten- ion of Cobden. On the question of higher education he held ome decided convictions. He regretted that under-graduates f the national seats of learning, Oxford and Cambridge, while 91 86 roi{i)i:y and thoiou upon other ureat questions, Cohden was in advance of his time The condition of national Kducation. now of such ^^eatl puhlic importance, was then truly deplorable. In one of thtl earlier vears of ('(ibden's public life, in 1S3I-. the tMim nl'.4.'L!0. <)(H) was voted I'or Kducation —a sum which now l"i)ks mort ludicrously small because of its juxtaposition with anothiTJ vote ol',CGO,0()0 for the repair of liuckiiii^ham Palace. I*altrv| twenty thousand for education in the United Kiimduiii I 'l^ the (juestion <>f Public I'iducatiou. (Jobden resolved Ui devote his strength ; but in the streets of Manchester he haJ to make his way through crowds of starvintr, hairirard meiij muttering threats oi' insurrection because of Corn monopoly and, with the conviction that material prosperity and sense nj national justice must underlie all progressive legislation, htj committed himself, heart and snul and strength, to the Uepe;i| of the Corn Tiaws The fundamental principle of that system of political eeonj oniy which Cobden had learned from the Kirkaldy philosophci as constituting the •' Wealth of Nations," may be briefly indij cated. The earth is vast and variegated in its resources anJ productions. Some portions of the globe are stored with mini 7///-; cony laws. 80 Till woaltli, veins of "'nM. inoniitairia ril)l)0(l with ir nil. atx 1 vast (lc'{»nsits fd'coal; there arc valleys covered over with corn, pastures rich in flocks, and unlimited a;:ricultural and pastoral capahilitics ; there are maritime countries with their haven.* for ships and tlieir exhaiistless wealtli W(ni from the deep sea: other lands are rich in tluMr terraced vineyards and olive-clad hilN. or they are swept by soft breezes and balmy ^.-iles. laden Willi ar th le nerlume o| spices. Tl lere ni: je cases in w liieh hitrary ri'striction — a protectionist policy — may conduce to [the tiMnporary advantajie of the producer ; but the j^reatest ily be ates and (lovorr. I cxiircncies an'f'(^ tra(h!. Then we can irrow our wheat on the ri(di in which i^reatcrB'""'''*!^ of l']ni,dand, over the ample fields of Ontario, or in the must be accnrdeilBhoundless valley of the .^Iississippi ; our timber can be Ik wn d the literature olBi'i l>:dtie or North American fore.>"•' ^'irs i'rom Hudson Hay. our (ish from Xewfoumlland. ow of such '■■reatB"i'' w*'"l from Australia, and our silks and spices from India c., In (>iie of thrjii'l Ceylon. Su(d» iVee interchange of the eartli'.-^ productions must always rove beneficial ; but to those toiling' millions wdio earn their read by the sweat of their brow, to wlio'.n bread is indeed the tall" of life, the boon is proportionately greater. All that 'obden demanded for his sufTerin;^ countrymen wa.s that they den resolved tcB^^*'*'^'^^ have access to the cheapest corn markets of the world ; I'lnchestcr he haA'i'i he believed that in replenishing; their granaries with wheat ri"- bao-'^ard meiiMroni the yield of richest and most fertile fields, England might Corn monopoly B*^ saved from the distress and gloom and paralizing cfTccts eritv and sense oBroduced periodically by the almost famine prices of grain, ve leo-islation, \\m The pioneers in tliis great movement, for the Itepeal of th«! kth to tlie llepeaporn Laws, now of historic interest, were few at first— so few often to wonder at the commotion they were making. of political econB'-'^A '^''■}'S Cobdeii, we icorkal. They did work and with kaldv philosophcB ^iH- Press and riatform were extensively and effectively XV be briefly indifr^pl'^ycd. The Anti-Corn-Law-League — tht most powerful i*s resources auwo^itical combination and the most compact and successful stored with minB'ga'^ization of the kind in modern times — sprang into exist- thc :-u!n of .C2(l.- 1 now looks mop' J ion with another! im Palace. l*altrv| d Kingdom ! T' 40 COBDEl^ AND ence. Constituencies were canvassed for parliamentary support. The Premier and liis Cabinet were assailed by their arguments, and still they worked : — " To mould a mighty State's decree And shape the wliisper of the throne ; And moving up from high to higher Become, on fortune's crowning slope, The pillar of a people's hope, The centre of a world's desire." In 1840, Bichard Cobden, no'.v a wealthy manufacturer, was invited to become a candidate ^br the representation of Man-j Chester, in Parliament. A pledge of support for the liberalj government of the day was demanded as the condition ; but! he refused to be trammelled in what he now deemed his life- work, or to stand committed to policy or party, except in ad-j vocacy of Free Trade principles and the Repeal of the Cornj Laws. lie could bide his time. He had firmness to say No I l)ecision uf character was uniformly manifested throughout hieBu^ public life. Boi Some men are yielding as the aspen leaf; and they are alwayfloi in difficulties. '■ Sir Philip Plausible, the Parliament manMai can make a speech of nine Lours and a calculation of nine page,«pii.s No man is better at (jittlny up a majority or palavering a rc| fractory opposition, lie proffers arguments and a bribe witli equal dexterity ; and converts by place and person when he is unable to convince by alliteration and antithesis. What J pity it is he can't say No I ' Sir Philip,' says an envoy! ' you'll remember my little business at the Foreign Ofiice ?j ' Depend upon my friendship,' says the minister. ' Sii Philip,' says a fat citizen, with two votes and two dozen chill dren, ' you'll remember Billy's place in the Customs ?' ' llelMOin on my promise I' says the minister. ' Sir Philip,' says a ladfld t of rank, ' Flnsign Koebuck is an ofiicer most deserving promcBuie tion !' ' He shall be Colonel,' says the minister. Mark thBous result ! He has outraged his friendship ; he has forgotten hwmd promise ; he has falsified his oath. Had he ever any idea (Biitic Ibdc D THE CORN LAWS. 4) entary support, liciv argumeuts, iV [performing what he spoke? Quite the reverse! How un- lucky that he cannot say ' No !' " Cobden's negative wa's firm and decided as steel or granite ; land it soon became to him a rock of strength. He was never, [in public life, false or vacillating : " Nor number nor example with hira wrought To swerve from truth or change his constant mind Though single." ;'hc attitude of singleness and inflexible purpose, assumed it this time, was characteristic of Cobden to the end of life. L^hc triumphs of party were nothing to him j and oftener than )nce, during important struggles, he was compelled to stand iloof from usual political associates. There was underlying his loblc and chivalrous constancy and consistency a sublime reli- tious earnestness. You have no hold upon any 07ie, he was manufacturer, was] eutation of Man- rt for the liberall e condition ; but| f deemed his life- rty, except in adl • 1 f the Cornjp^'customed to say, who has no religious faith. ^ ^«s to sav No I T^G question which docs force itself upon one, in view of .1 throuo-hout hisBuch a political career as that of Cobden, is : How far are per- nal independence and inflexible maintenance of principle 1 th n- arc alway^'^'^P^^^^^^^ with ^ arliamentary organization and successful V- •li-iuicnt uianB^rty government? Clearly no administration could accom- ilish any beneficial legislation, or achieve any national good, nless based upon the understood concession of individual inion to the policy of the party. Yet such concession will, the case of the honourable and high-minded statesman, have i conditions and limitations; and every pioneer of new prin- les must inevitably pay the penalty of frequent political lation. The country needs honest politicians more than they need e country; and Cobden, though above concession or com- omise, had not long to wait. In 1841, free from party pledge \ Wv) ' says a ladflrd Palmcrston. lat time, almost •til of England, ime Minister in retcran tactician le two hours, in in eloquent siui- )on the audience liousand people, g applause that )wn perhaps the i War Minister, He represented With the nicn- s terrified their ■aveller admitted was questioned Lichard Cobden, social position. Ic families ; the 1st as widely in ideas and policy (the ascendancy [aintained by a I and the other I was at home — I (h such a policy, imphantly into 3ntion, Cobden! the nation and I the strong current of popular feeling. lie was hooted with contempt and lashed and lampooned all over the land. Per- haps we have no better index to the state of national feeling, in looking along those eventful years, than is supplied by the cartoons of Punch. In the execution of those political carica- tures there is generally rare skill combined with truthful representation. Merely as likenesses, many of the faces in Punch are capital. Who could mistake the features of the late Lord Brougham ? Ilis versatility, too, made him a fa- vorite subject — an image-seller hawking statuettes of himself, a clown offering to do anything at the bidding of the Duke of Wellington, a prize-fighter in training to demolish the mem- bers of the House of Lords. How familiar the face and form of Lord John Russell ! In the higher departments of statesman- ship, according to the caustic saying of the late Lord Derby, he often meddled to muddle ; and in these cartoons he has been made, in his time, to fill many a menial situation — a boy in buttons with rows of dirty boots to clean, a footman not strong enough for his place, a little slatterly maid of all work. Lord Aberdeen appears as an old woman, Palmcrston as sweeper of crossings, and the Conservative leaders as mutes at a funeral. In those cartoons, often more potent in their influence than the best written leaders of the Times, Disraeli was. by turns, in those years, cheap jack, omnibus conductor, burglar, a ser- pent trying to bite a steel file in the shape of the Premier Peel. Before abandoning a protective policy, Sir Robert Peel was represented, in a most powerful cartoon, as turning his back upon a poor man with a starved shivering wife and child, buttoning up his coat with the words, " I am very sorry my good man, but I can do nothing for you — Nothing.'" Without any injustice, Cobden might figure as a school-master ; for he had taught the statesmen of his country many sound lessons in political economy j but the derision was great when, hitting off the vulgar error. Punch, in an ably executed cartoon, placed the earnest advocate of Peace at the gaping muzzle of a cannon, with long asinine ears and an innocent vacuous look, declaring with great simplicity that " the mouster gun was 52 COBDEN AND perfectly harmless." IJut Cobdcn's principles were misunder- stood, lie was not u peacc-at-uny-prico man. lie never quoted isolated texts of Scripture to prove the unlawfulness of all war. No man would have been Jnore prompt in defence of home and fatherland. He would cheerfully vote, ho said, in case of threatened invasion — if need were — not for a million only, but for a hundred millions; but, by t of com- merce and international amities, brin<^ the nation., .nto a closer reciprocal relationship; accept Non-intervention as the guid- ing policy of governmental administration ; make war so for- midable a thing that only, in the last extremity, when reparation for flagrant wrong is withheld and arbitration refused, it will be resorted to. Cobdcn pleaded in vain. His theories, liowever beautiful and beneficent, jarred upon the habits and instincts of the English people. At the invasion of the Crimea, the war spirit was apparently more rampant than ever; and the intense and c.voltod fooling of tlie nation found expression in the Laureate's wild pean of joy, thr • " Tlio long long canker ol" peace was over and " The spirit then evoked is still dominant in P^uropc. Gov- ernments are arming tlunr subjects with the minnie and needle gun and chassepot, as though their very existence depended upon fire and steel. Hundreds of thousands of men, in the strength of life, are withdrawn from the industries and pro- ductive labor of their country, and trained to the work of slaughter, France and Prussia have mighty armaments and, notwithstanding pacific words have been spoken and civilities exchanged, old scores are to be .settled* " Napoleon sage, on history's page, wrote his name and his mark ; The Prussian canio, and saw tlie same, and wrote Bismarck." The mutual jealousy and vast war preparations of those two great powers keeps the Continent in perpetual peril, and may at any moment set Europe in a Ijlazc. Could such unspeak- able calamity possibly be averted ? Could not an Interna- tional Council, some world-wide Court of Arbitration, with the concurrence of the great Ruling Nations, be formed ? •Written a few months before the Franco-German war. THK coins LAWS. 69 vero miaundcr- ,n. lie never inlawfulncss of )t in defence of )te, ho said, in >t for a million t of coni- ng -Qto a closer on as the guid- akc war so for- ctremity, when \nd arbitration 1 in vain. His ivrred upon the :, the invasion of e rampant than he nation found thf • d Europe. Gov- nnie and nccdlo tcncc depended of men, in the stries and pro- |to the work of rniamcnts and, In and civilities lincl his mark ; Jismarck." lis of these two Iperil, and may isuch unspcak- |ot an Interna- pation, with the irmed ? And tho battle flags be furled In the Piirliatiiont of man, The Federation of the world. At the Peace of Paris, to (?obden's great delight and largely through his influence, an arbitration clause, marking a new era in nati(mal diplomacy, was introduced into the Treaty. During the present year, the method adopted for dealing with the vexed Alabannujuestion and other disputed points between the (rovernmcnts of (ireat Britain and the United States, luus indicated the utility of such arrangement. May we not hope that, in the international relations of these two great countries, II nohle and auspicious policy has been fairly inaugurated . that, in the future, their keenest rivalry shall be honourable and righteous; that, in the interests of commerce and of Chris- tianity, the mutual unmistakable public feeling of both coun- tries, shall find expression in the demand : Let us IIavk Pe.vce — that the bright stars of the Republican banner, em- blem of CJod's glorious work in (^reation, and the Red Cross of Kngland, emblem of God's still L'reater work in Redemption, may wave together in peaceful undisf urbed harmony, until their brightness shall mingle with the s| ndor ol' Millennial Day. The (tdoncacf/ of Nonlnteromtion loas Richard Colxhns \crowuit\g work. His efforts in the Repeal of the Corn Laws brought in their train unbounded popularity, and the Coni- luercial Treaty with France, framed on the principle of unrc- jstricted trafl&c for the world, was loudly applauded ; yet the lopinion has been expressed " that Cobden's unswerving advo- |cacy of Universal Peace and arbitration between differing and ilienated nations, was really something larger and grander than Ithese purely fiscal arrangements," and that though unpopular it first, " they constitute the most splendid legacy of his noble md laborious life." In national recognition of Cobden's first great work, in the cause of Free Trade and the Repeal of the Corn Laws, a pro- )osal was made for the erection of a monument to bear his lame with the simple inscription : He gave the people bread. Ls the representative of those commercial and cosmopolitan rar. — I 64 COBDEN AND THE CORN LAWS, principles, which are nobly above all national rivalries and antipathies, another side of that column mij^ht bear the sculp- tured record : lie was an international man. For the advocacy of non-intervention for his own country, and arbitration for nations in general, he deserves perpetual memorial as the apostle of Peaee and IN the year 1757 was fought the battle uf Plassey in India. Until that time Engli^shmen were scarcely respected, their property was destroyed, their factories burned, their entire expulsion from the Continent threatened ; but, when their for- tunes were at the worst, Robert Clive, a merchant's clerk at Madras, laid aside his pen, girt on his sword, gathered to- gether his dispirited countrymen, breathed into their souls Bonie of his own indomitable energy, made them soldiers, made them conquerors, fought and won the battle of Plassey, and laid the foundation of our magnificent Oriental Empire. The Centenary year of British Rule in India, was reniem- bercd at home. It afforded an opportunity to senators and orators for eulogising the bravery of our soldiers, the ability of our Statesmen, and the consummate wisdom which h\d marked the Administration of our Eastern Possessions. It was alro remembered in India. A prophecy was said to have been uttered : that, at the end of one hundred years, British Rule should cease, and the Empire of India return to one of the Native races. In that same Centenary year, in the month of May, in the City of Meerut in Northern India, at the close of a sultry Sabbath day, when Europeans were preparing for Church, the ry of fire was heard. Other sounds, the shouts of Sepoys, he clattering of cavalry, the rattling of musketry, mingled in H'Wji i — i U iMit T)6 HAVE LOCK AND THE ominous confusion. It was not fire merely, but mutiny, in- surrection, — the Bengal army had revolted. One hundred thousand men set themselves to work to overthrow our Empire, and to sweep from the shores of India every vestige of Saxon Race and Rule. Flavelock's last Campaign broke the spell of that mutiny and nobly vindicated the Majesty of British Supremacy. My first purpose was to give a brief biographical sketch of Ilavelock up to the last year of his life ; but, within the limits u.ssccrutgunge, thebu^losound'd a second time for march and fur battle, and before sunset a second victory was gained. The wearied men were, at the close of the day, leaning upon their arms, when Ilavelock rode along. " Clear the way for the General," they exclaimed. You havn (lone that alrcadi/ mi/ brave fellows, was Havelock s reply, in tones that stirred the soldier's heart like the bla.:^ '>f a trumpet. Kleclrified by the well-timed compliment, they rent the air with their cheers, and said, in earnest accents : " (iod bless the General." He liad gained the confidence and .syuipatliy (if his troops. With ten thousand such men ho miglit have marched, invincible and victorious, through the length and breadth of India. The army was elated with suc- cess ) but that night was a sleepless one to General Ilavelock. He could not hope to reach Lucknow with more than six hun- dred men. Could he retreat? What would they say in Eng- land where his progress was watched with painful interest ? What would they say at Head-Quarters from which his com- mission emanated '■ What would be the effect in the Resi- dency — thr> fate of which might be determined by the delay of a single day ? To fall back re({uired more of moral courage than onward march. Havelock possessed moral greatness as well as military genius ; and to save his army, and to save India, he fell back to a strong position at Mungulwar. Having obtained a small reinforcement, Ilaceloch com- meneed his second march of relief. Meeting the enemy in the old battle ground at IJusseerutgunge ho gained another victory, and I'or a time pressed rapidly on to the goal of his cflurts. IJut again he encountered his most potent and deadly foe — the cholera. Men who fought and conquered the .Sepoys in tlic field by day were couipclled to succumb to disease in their tents by night. There was no alternative. Kncumbered with cholera-stricken and dying men. he must again relin(juish his cherished purpose. No wonder that a cloud passed for a moment over that brave spirit. ThIiKja arc in a moat pcriloua stale, he wrote to his wife. ]Ve can onlij fiitcceed bij the cs^jecial MAUCH TO LUCK NOW (".9 the victors. it;l<;s()an(l-'d jre sunset a , at the close : rode along, inied. You Ilavelock's the bla.:t <>{' liiucnt, they est accents : nfidonce and uch men he through the ,ed with suc- al 1 lav clock, lian six hun- y say in Eng- t'ul interest ? ich his coui- iu the llesi- thc delay of oral courage greatness as and to save war. rclock com- e enemy in liieil another g():il of his |t and deadly ' the Sepoys o disease in 'incuud)ered ji relimiuish assed lor a ost j>(:i'i/(jnii (he especial mi'iu // »/ (ioii. I irritf. an ow wJio maif .srr iimi vo morr. Ifc knew well the impression which retrograde movemcnr would pr oliK'i; on the minds of Sepoys, and that it woald be oiistrned into a conCossion of weaktie* To neutralize that (■fliM't as much as possihle, he sought out the rebels once more, struck a decisive blow, and made them lee! that in military jirowess they were no inateii for British troops. Mven at Cawnpore. to which IJavelock led back his little army, he hid to light for existence. With tht^ hope of the recapture of that ritv. Nana Sahib had amassed lai'^c forces at IJithoor in its vici?iity. They were the flower of the mutinous s lUliery. They occupied one of the strongest positions in India. Have lock's men wore weak and wasti^l by disease — dying at a rate which in si.v wec^ks would not have lei't a singK; man — but. without time for repose, hi; throw them against tlu; rebel forces at ]5ithoor. The Si'poys fought with obstinate iury Thev stood tluMr ground in the presence of artillery an 1 musketrv tire ; l)ut when the bayonets charged tb.ey speedily gav(> way. With tlu! exhausted condition of the British, the rebels in the strong jtosition they occupit^l. if determined, might have made a successful stand ; but their lusarts failed and thi^y fled. • There is something in the sight of Iviropeans advancing at a run. with stern visage, bayonets fixed, determination marked in every movement of the body, which appals them ; they can- no'., stand it — they never have stood it yet." 'J'hat day Nana Sahib's power received its most fatal blow. In his strength he iiud been no match f()r Ilavelock's weakness. Hencelbrth no one could doubt the result. Tlie spectacle of that little band of soldiers isolated in the midst of revolted provinces — sur- rounded by hostile population — press(Kl by numerous armies of the insurgents — ever presenting an unbroken front, ever aggressive, ever victcn'ious — comjuering the f'le in the open field and in the intrenched city — produced its impression throughout Northern India and carried conviction to friend and foe of the superiority of the British race anrt of the certainty of ultimate liritish triumph. The attitude assumed by IIavelock,all through that trying but triumphant campaign. 70 HAVELOCK AND THE was such as to raise the honor of England and to exalt the prestige of her arms. The endurance of Havelock, and of his men, is a marvel. Has British character degenerated ? Never was the national endurance of any people more severely tested or more signally proved. English, Scotch, and Irish soldiers fought and fell side by side, and mingled their blood in the same crimson tide. They were not selected specially for that arduous service ; yet every man Was a \\cvo. We have still the stuff out of which soldiers are made. We can talk of names of Indian renown worthy of the grandest and proudest days of chivalry. We have still representatives of the men who made Crecy and Agincourt and Blenheim and Plasse}', " We have still the 8nfli(;t — all that night. — all the next day, — all the night of the U-lth. The story of Jessie IJrown, so graphically ilc- scriptive of the pent-up feeling and distressing suspense of the suflferers. thoiK/h (tltoijrthcr (/roumUvnK in dctnil. may have becJi founded upon some incident growing out of that painfully protracted del; Wc all remember with what thrilling in- terest wo heard. Ibr the first time, that touching story of tho Kastern wars. We heard how Jessie Brown, the Co 'poral't* wife, overcome with fatigue, sought repose ; askitig them to wake her when her fiither came home frae ploughing, thinking in her delirium of her Scottish home — how her fevered ear caught the first sound of the relieving host — how she rose up MARCH TO LUC KNOW. n r the strua- e battle cry though not rhe ScpoyH •cnohcd the )nc (lay wus' lorning. the ous contest. The men 3 City was n igh the plain. ' relict' defiled ith musketry .0 battery on ;vrific and the aid resist the the blazing } force, stifled f fire, silenced bridge. The u-e to tbe gar- ieving army : l^li which they ic Alumbagh ': ^^G ^iuccceding all the night raphically de- <•■ suspense o\ all. may have that paini'uUy U thrilling in- Ig story of the (the Co.-poraV? Iking them to Ihing, thinking ler fevered ear [w she rose up and rushed to the batteries exclaiming, " Courage men ! Hark to the slogan ! Here is help at last !" — how ♦he soldiers held their breath and their fire and listened, but could hear no sound above the tumult of battle — how a murmur of disappointment rose from the men and a wail of anguish from the women who had flocked to the batteries — how Jessie sank to the ground in deep, despairing passionate grief — how she awoke in wilder joy, saying, " I am nae dreaming, the Campbells are coming" — how that shrill sound, the blessed pibroch pealing, was heard above the roar of cannon and seemed as the voice of God — how Havelock and Outram thundered at the gates — how the men and women of the garrison threw themselves, simul- taneously, to the ground, exchiiming, some with suppressed sobs and others with tumultuous joy, We are saved! We are saved ! It was not the slogan of the Highlander but his musketry fire — fire answering fire ; and not the pibroch pealing, but the whizzing of the Minie bullet that announced the approach of the succouring host. Slowly, but surely, Havelock and Outram are pressing on to the Residency — through walls of fire and lanes of death — through avenues of smoke and flame — through cannon that volleyed right and left, cannon planted at the angle of every street — through murderous fire poured from every window and door, and sloping down from the flat roofs of the houses — through the midst of fifty thousand Sepoys raging around them with demoniacal fury ; on still they press — while horse and hero fall — the gallant Neil slain — Outram wounded — the red rain dropping from many hearts — the track of relief strewn j with the dying and the dead j on still they press, until hungry, thirsty, and weary, with the shadows of evening falling thickly around them — the lines of the Residency are reached, the feeble r.imparts pierced, and the column of relief and the gar- Irison — the rescuers and the rescued — rush into each others' [arms, and Havelock and Inglis meet at the goal of their glory. IThe enthusiasm and excitement of relief baffle all description. iThe joy of deliverance was almost more than could be borne. 74 HAVELOCK AND THE " Tho garrison's long pent-up feelings of anxiety and suspense burst forth in a succession of deafening cheers. From every pit, trench, and battery, — from behind the sand-bags piled on shattered houses — from every post still held by a few gallant spirits, rose cheer on cheer — even from the hospitals many of the wounded crawled forth to join in that glad shout of welcome to those who had so bravely come to their assistance." It wa.s a moment never to be forgotten. Officers and men met in cordial embrace. Hough and bearded Highlanders shook ladies hi/ the hand ; and taking up the children in their arms, with tears streaming from their eyes, thanked God they had been in time to save the lovely little ones from another Cawn- pore. The brave Highlanders had suffered severely. In the last four days they had lost one-third of their number and though in the joy of deliverance the gallant fellows ceased to think of their losses, their pains, their wounds, their weariness; yet when the first burst of enthusiasm was past sadder and sterner thoughts came over them as they turned, with mournful and chastened feeling, to speak, among themselves, of the names and number of their fallen comrades. Such are the crimson triumphs of red war. They have been graphically described in Byron's lurid lines : — "The midnight brings the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in anns,^ — the day Battle's magnificently stern array ! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent, The earth is covered thick witli other clay, Rider and horse — friend and foe, — in one rude burial blent !" With the Relief of the Residency the campaign of Havelock terminated, .and the chief command of the forces devolved upon General Outram. The continued siege and final relief of| Lucknow do not belong to this narrative. IlavelocJcs march won rapturous applause. His name bej came as a household word, and was repeated with enthusiasm bjj every man, woman, and child throughout the empire, or wher ever the English language was spoken. Sovereign, Peer, anc renn Kepi into bypj his into t of ore and t blaze Ua He h; bis CO I Jesus tian," MARCH TO LUCKKOW. 76 nd sr.spensc From every lags piled on I few gallant tals many of it of welcome ce." It was men met in inders shook n their arms, ^od they had nothcr Cawn- In the last jr and though ,cd to think of .vcarincss; yet Icr and sterner mournful and of the names e the crimson bally described rent, |e burial blent !' bn of Havelock [devolved uponl 1 final relief of His name be- en thusiasm bjl ipire, or wher-I iign, Peer, anc People vied with each other in doing homage to the greatest warrior of his time. But in the midst of boundless enthusiasm, and a nation's pride and praise, Havelock was suddenly with- drawn from earth. He was not, for God took him. Jldrcfock's deeds warrant his fame. Probably no other man ever rose to such renown in so sudden a manner. At a ujomcnt when the firmament seemed obscured, he burst forth into a blaze of brilliance. At first we fancied or feared the splendour might be that of the transient meteor's flash j but it still beams forth in steady and pure radiance — a star of the first magnitude. The more we, examine the antecedents of Havelock's career, the more closely we study his last campaign, the more profound is our conviction of the solidity and perma- nence of his reputation. Not by accident of circumstance, or by any effort of frantic valour, did he accomplish the deeds which have immortalized his name. They were the result of calm and strong purpose — of a clear and well balanced mind^ thorough professional knowledge, decided military genius, prudence which never slumbered combined with a chivalrous daring, intrepid fearlessness of spirit, commanding influence over other minds, and consummate wisdom in generalship. In stern despotic devotion to duty, he very much resembles Wel- lington ; and in daring, rapid, breathless, fiery movement, he reminds us of the character and career of the first Napoleon. Kept back, when he ought to have been promoted, thrown into the shade by the elevation of inferior men more favoured by patronage, Havelock nevertheless did his duty and he had his reward. He gained strength for life And when thrown into that great struggle, which would have palsied the energies of ordinary men, his resources proved equal to the emergency and the noble qualities which he possessed burst forth into a blaze of splendour and majesty at which the world wondered. Uavelodcs earnest religiousness claims special recoynition. He had long been distinguished for the unshrinking avowal of his convictions and for uncompromising fidelity to the faith of I Jesus Christ. " Every inch a soldier and every inch a chris- jtian," according to the testimony of Lord Hardinge, he demon- iiWIBT 76 RAVELOCK AND TffE stratcd the compatibility of religious fervour with military enthusiasm. By the sublime consistency of christian character combined with the highest professional distinction, he compel- led thoughtless men to do homage to the religion of Christ. Though his noble catholicity of feeling was not restricted by the lines or limits of denominationallsm, yet holding views of i christian doctrine and discipline in accordance with those maintained by the Baptist Section of the Church of Christ, he became, — soon after his marriage to tie daughter of the Rev. Dr. Marshmau, the illustrious Serampore Missionary, in 1829, — a member of that community and continued, until the! period of his death, one of its most steadfast adherents and one| of its brightest ornaments. And never was the earnest reli- giousness of Havelock more conspicuous than in his marchl of Relief. He had an altar in his tent. He cared for the spiritual welfare of his soldiers. He trusted more to a Divine arm than to his own skill or the prowess of his troops. On the morning of the final struggle for the relief of the Resi- dency, — the memorable 25th, — he rose before break of daj, passed some time in prayer, and commended himself, and hisi army, to the protection of a gracious Providence. He publicl)f ascribed victory to Almighty God. He was not ambitious to| win blood-stained wreaths of earthly fame ; but coveted higher distinction — the crown for duty done. *• In hoc signo, pale nor dim Lit the battle field for him." Religion ennobled his aims, purified his motives, exalted hijj courage, sanctified his genius, and threw its charm around hL;ion of Christ, t restricted by )lding views of ICC with those irch of Christ, aughter of the Missionary, in inued, until the herents and one the earnest reli- n in his mard e cared for the lore to a Divine lis troops. On icf of the Resi- break of day, imself, and his c. He publicly ot ambitious to but coveted a res, exalted hi) larm around his As years kt campaign ; He died just when he ought to have died — before his pure Hpirit could be sullied by the breath of unhallowed applauco. Ilaveloclcs tomb needs not monumental marble or sculptured stone. In a low plain of the Alumbagh they made his grave ; and Campbell and Outram and Inglis and other veterans per- formed his sepulchral rites. In sure and certain hope of glorious resurrection were the mortal remains of the sainted Uavelock committed to the dust. And though the illustrious Hero rests far away beneath an Eastern sky, the dust of that grave is as sacred, and that tomb, to our thoughts, as brightly trophied, as though the conqueror had been rendered to the mould beneath the golden cross which shines o'er city nod river, or in the magnificent and stately gloom of Westminster Abbey. He wan buried just where he ought to have been buried, in the scene of his toil and triumph and death, near that city which, through long and trying months, had been the object of his incessant anxiety : the relief of which closed and crowned his life and covered his memory with imperish- able glory. " He hath gained a nobler tomb Than in old Cathedral's gloom ; Nobler mourners paid the rite Than the crowd that craves a sight ; Guarded to a soldier's grave By the bravest of the brave, England's banner o'er him waved — Dead, he keeps the realm he saved." Ilaveloclcs greatness has a glory all its own. " The name of Havelock," says Count Montalembcrt, " recalls and sums up all the virtues which the English have exercised in this gigan- tic conflict. Thrown suddenly into a struggle with a great peril before him, and insignificant means wherewith to over- n for this las rme it, he surmounted every thing by his rel Icome the sharp to all believers the last enem iquerop now. igious courage. i^atriotism and piety nerved the soul of the great Commander to heroic effort ; they were the central, controlling, all domi- nant influences which swayed his being, and developed that antique grandeur of character to which the celebrated French author has so emphatically and eloquently referred. Sib IBB 78 HAVELOCK AND THE MARCH TO LUCKNOW. Henry Havelock's name will j^o down to posterity enshrined in unfading glory. Military genius in combination with rare moral excellence, greatness and goodness, will secure for him imperishable renown. He will be enrolled amongst the titled warriors of the ages as the Christian Hero : •* There gleams a coronet of light around t,ho conqueror's brow, But of far purer radiance than England can bestow ; IIo wears a glittering, starry cross, called by a Monarch's name ; That monarch whoso well done confers a more than mortal fame. And when, in God's good time, this page of history shall bo upturned, And the bright stars be reckoned up which in its midnight burn'd, Then shall the name of IIavki.ock, the saintly, sage, and bold, Shine forth engraven thereupon in characters of gold." NOW. ity enshrined ion with rare icurc for him gst the titled I brow, li'a naino ; rtiil fame, ill bo upturned, ight burn'd, id bold, ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE ENGLISH REFORMATION. THE theme of this Lecture takes us back to the Sixteenth Century. Of all the centuries that was most remarkable: an era of great men and of great deeds it constitutes one of the brightest and most auspicious epochs of the ages. The world suddenly awoke from long slumber. Old forma of thought were rudely broken up. stereotyped ideas were forcibly thrust aside ; and habits, usages and superstitions of the me- dieval age, with its romance of chivalry, feudal despotism, and ecclesiastical domination, vanished like a shadow. My aim is to place before you, in clear relief as possible, against the deep back-ground of the distant past, some of the most important outlines of that period in which the great heart of the English nation throbbed and pulsated into quickened consciousness of power; and its impulses and activities were led along to a new era and a nobler destiny. The wonderful Mdritime Discoveries which followed each other at that time, with great rapidity, almost seemed to indi- cate that the world, suddenly getting larger, was to become the thoatre of more important events. At the close of the Fifteenth Century, Christopher Columbus went forth from the Court of Spain, on his famous voyage of discovery, and a new Conti- nent arose beyond the Western Ocean. Portuguese mariners croiised the equinoctial, gazed upon the stars of Southern con- stellations, reached the extreme point of the African Continent, 80 ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE bcjond which they supposed navigation impossible, and after their own experience named it the " Gape of Storms ;" but the sanguine King, under whose banner they sailed, in antici- pation of the triumphs yet to be achieved, named it the " Capo of Good Hope." The Cape was doubled in 1497, and a new route was opened to the lands of the golden Orient. The pro- gress of discovery at the dawn of the Reformation, was in strik- ing harmony with the advance of intellectual thought and reli- gious freedom. At first, men crept cautiously along from one landmark to another, and then, with a daring courage, ven- tured into unexplored seas and fearlessly marched over the stormy ocean. And so in the revolution of thought, while they kept timidly at first to old ideas, we find them soon boldly pushing their way into new and untracked realms of mind. The Revival of Literature was another characteristic of the age which gave birth to the Reformation. This movement, fraught with important consequences to the world, was greatly facilitated by an event which, at the time, seemed likely to prove disastrous to the interests of both learning and religion. Constantinople, the seat of Eastern Empire, fell into the hands of the Turks, — the crescent supplanted the cross, and the standard of Mohammed II. waved victoriously over the City of Gonstantine. In the libraries and manuscripts of Constanti- nople, had been locked up for centuries untold treasures of genius, learning and eloquence. The dispersion of Eastern scholars, with such of their treasures as escaped the ruthless- ness of the Turks, proved of great and inestimable advantage to Western Europe. They found their way to Italy at a time when the Italian mind had been, by the genius and labors of Dante and Petrarch, prepared for their reception ; and their assistance was enthusiastically sought by Italian scholars in the study of the Greek language. A number of English stu- dents attracted to Italy by the literary glory then breaking with unwonted splendour over that bright and classic land, became acquainted with the wealth of Greek thought and lit- erature, speculated on the mysteries of Platonic philosophy, won for themselves the reputation of accomplished scholarship, 3, and after Drms j" but d, in antici- , the " Capo , and a new . The pro- was in strik- ;ht and rcli- ng from one ourago, ven- cd over the t, while they soon boldly of mind, jristic of the I movement, , was greatly led likely to [ind religion. the hands •ss, and the r the City of f Constanti- treasures of of Eastern he ruthless- e advantage y at a time nd labors of ; and their scholars in English stu- }n breaking classic land, ght and lit- philosophy, scholarship, EyoLrsir reformation. 81 and best of all, returning to Oxford and Cambridge, conse- crated their learning to the cause of freedom and religion. Contemporaneously with the revival of letters was the /)/*«- coveri/ of the nolle art nf Piintimj. This of itself was suffi- cient to introduce a new epoch, and has done more than any- thing else to mould human thought and to influence the world politically, intellectually, and roligioubly. It is interesting to know that this new art was at once baptized for its great mission and consecrated to the dissemination of Divine Truth. The first printed volume, as far as can be ascertained, wan the Mazarin Bible, in 1450, of six hundred and forty-one loaves, beautifully printed and splendidly bound. " Wo may," .says Hallam, '' in imagination see this venerable and spltMidid volume leading up the crowded myriads of its followers and imploring, as it were, a blessing upon the new Art, by dedicating its first-fruits to the service of heaven." Such were the auspicious events which prepared the way for the Reformation. But in order to understand that uprising of the 16th century in England — to have any correct conception of its political and social aspects — to know why the current of national life mingled so intensely and so sympathetically with the spirit of the age ', we must remember that it was not merely an era of new ideas and of nobler thoughts, but of emancipation and disenthralment. The mind of the nation waS untram- melled from the bondage of superstition and ecclesiastical im- position. The Jemands of the Church had hrcome exartivr/ and nj)- prcssive. England at one time unquestionably owed much to the influence of Roman Catholicism. In days of Feudalism, when the pea.santry were held in bondage, it was a gl )riou3 thing for the Saxon Serf that the ministers of religion were in sympathy with the bondmen and, in administering the last rites of the Church to the dying nobles, could appeal to their hopes and fears, as they valued the salvation of their souls, to make provision for the emancipation of their slaves. Thus early hereditary bondage ceased, slavery was crushed out, and Britain became, what she has long been, the asylum of the 82 ENGLISH RKFORMKIiS AND THE oppressed and the home of the free. AtkI at a time wlien race dominated over race and tlie ancient lc>rds of the soil had the humiliation of seeing their castles and lands in possession of the jiroiid Norman conqueror ; it was some relief to know that, tliruui;h the influence of the Church, tlicy could rise from the dust and stand upon a level with the highest and haughtiest of (ho usurpers. It was prohably, as Lord Macaulay claims. p nation:. 1 as well as a ri'ligious leeling which brought multi- t'ldes of Ijiigli.dimen to the shrine of the murdered and mar- tyred Tfionuis a iiccket — tlie first Englishman who, since the conqu<'st. had bid defiance to the Norman Despot. It was naJural thnt at such a p(!riod the sympathiesof the nation should gather more closely round the Priest than around the Ruler. In the bosom of the Church, rather than beneath the shadow of the Throne, they found succour and protection. ]Jut as years rolled on the distinction between conqueror and conquered dis- appeared, (he Sovereign became tlu; protector of his subjects, and th(^ exactions aiul oppressive demands of Rome were con- etantlv becoming more grievous and galling. There were, according to the pieaiuble of an Act of l^arliamcnt passed in the reign of Henry VTII., monies paid to Rome for " pen- 6i(ms. proeuraliou! , suits for provisions and expeditions of bulls; for archbishopric; and bishoprics; for delegacies re- ceipts in causes of contentions and appeals; jurisdictions, legantive dispensations, licenses, faculties, grants, relaxations, abolitions ami infinite sorts of bulls, briefs, and instruments of sundry natures, names and kinds." No wonder they com- plained of " the great decay and impoverishment oi the kingdom."' The state of the Mttnasfcri'H in England cdlcd for Rcforma- tinn. From a mistaken notion that lutliness of heart can be more successfully culti' ated, and the glory of Ciod more effectu- ally ])romoted in t!;e calm and silent retreat, far from strife and passion of life, than amid the distraction of the world and the pressure of temptati )n ; men of self denying aiui and holy as- piration .■^epiratematists failed to bring the smooth and wily Clement to any decision of the vexed question. The double dealing of the llomi.sh Court, and of its commissions, was more than the fiery Tudor could brook ; and after waiting long years, his patience was thoroughly exhausted. At last he took other men into his councils and the matter was settled independently of the Pope. The Arch- bishop of Canterbury was appointed to decide all such cases of appeal as had hitherto been sent t(i Rome. In his Court the marriage of Catherine was declared null and void ; and Anne Boleyn was solemnly crowned Queen of England. These were times of transition, and the question naturally arose : If the authority of the Tope can be dispensed with iu one case, why not in another ? and why not altogcLlier ? The realm of l^ngland was at f)nce declared independent of the See of Rome. Parliament and Convocation — lords temporal and lords spiritual — decided that the Pope had no authority in England. Henry was declared supreme in Church and State ; and this fact was proclaimed to the metropolitans every Sabbath from the pulpit at Paul's Cross. The Pope and his Cardinals were disposed to continue the contest : and ulti- mately sentence of excommunication was passed against the contumacious King; but the thunder of the Vatican, which in 88 ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE days gone by had made sovereigus to tremble and liad hurled the mightiest monarchs from their thrones, had now lost its dread and its potency, and harmlessly rolled over the head of the deflant Prince. The Oath of Succession, regarded as a test of the King's authority, which had been challenged in the face of Europe, brought to the stake two of the most determined opponents of the Reformation : Fisher IJishop of llochcster and Sir Thomas More J and showed with what unscrupulous vigor Henry was prepared to vindicate the supremacy of his claims. Fisher's life would probabl}' have been spared, had not the Pope at this crisis, in defiance of Henry, sent hiui a (Jardinal's hat, and made liim representative of England. This act. like many others emanating from the same infallible source, was impolitic and imprudent. Henry swore that the Pope might send the hat ) but that Fisher should have no head to wear it. The hat never got farther than Calais ; for by that time the Pre- late's head was upon London Bridge. Fisher was superstitious and bigoted, but learned, pious and conscientious. He walked to the block with the New Testament in his hand, chanted the Te Deum on the scaffold, and then bent his venerable head to the axe of the executioner. Sir Thomas More was one of the most eloquent, wise and witty men in Europe. He was a brilliant scholar, an able states- man and a fascinating companion. He was the first layman who filled the ofl&Cij of Chancellor ; the first orator who achieved national fame ; and the first political writer in the English language whose works the world will not willingly let die. " With him," said Erasmus, "you might imagine yourself in the Academy of Plato." But More's noble intellect and unrivalled genius were trammelled by the superstitions of religion and the traditional authority of the Church. He was the most formidable, because the most eloquent and acute, of the opponents of Scriptural Reform. In his opinion the burning of heretics was the duty of the Church. On this point More was not superior to his creed ; but he was in other respects so noble, so magnanimous, so exquisitely giitiid, so ENGLISH REFORMATION. 89 id hurled \v lost its e head of lie King's f Europe, ponents of ir Thomas Icnry was Fisher's 'ope at this s hat, and like many IS impolitic it send the ir it. The le the Pre- uperstitious He walked umted the vable head wise and able states- ayman who achieved le English •ly let die. ourself in cUeet and Istitions of He was acute, of liuion the On this & in other gilted, 80 3" lofty in soul, and so pure in life, that men of all classes have delighted to do homage to his name and memory. He gave to his daughter the hair-shirt and the whip with which he scourged himself; and he spoke in his last hours of the holy martyr Stephen, who was stoned, and of Saul of Tarsus, who kept the raiment of them that slew him, as " compeers and saints in heaven." May wc not hope that the noble-minded but erring More, trusting in Illm through whose stripes we are healed, has met and mingled with the spirits of martyred ones who by his mistake a zeal were brought to the stake and the block. We are not to suppose, however, because of the vigor with which Henry VIII. acted in opposition to Rome and Papal intrigue, that he was the patron of the Reformation, or that he desired to reform religion at all. Protestants and Catholics alike suffered for conscientious attachment to their religion — the one class being usually sent to the stake and the other to the block. Occasionally they were burned together at the same flaming pile. The King, now acknowledged as the supreme head of the Church, aspire 1 to be arbiter of all mat- ters of faith and religion. An Act was passed, which sounds strangely enough in these days of freedom, " for suppressing all diff"(!renccs of opinion." It was called by some "the whip with six strings," and by others the " bloody statute." He had undertaken a difficult work. He might by pains and penalties crowd his prisons and light martyr-lares ; but he might as well have attempted to control the whirlwind in its violence, or to chain the storm lashed ocean wave, as to stifle the impuhe whicti tlic nation had received or to mould the mind of England into one type of thought or into one form of faith. Everywhere in the Metropolis and the Provinces, in the I Inivorsity and the Parsonage, in the Senate and at the Council, in the Country Inn and on the Village-Green, the same (juestions were discussed, the same passions agitated, and a constantly strengthen -ng impetus was given to the turbulent current of national life. The administration of Henry, how- ever, as years rolled on^ reached a terrible vigor. Sitting a 90 ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE aloof from contending parties, insufferably proud, soured by theological controversy, swayed by ungovernable passion, with- out principle, without pity, without mercy, inflated by flattery and wielding despotic power, the victims of his cruel and arbi- trary administration were numbered from all classes of society, and from all sections of religious faith ; and until the sceptre fell from his dying grasp, the stream of human blood gathered Htrength with successive years. Apart from the struggle of political and religious interests, and the fiercer and more turbulent scenes in which Henry mingled, we have in that circle of life, in which of all others we expect something of gentleness, grace, and manly virtue, the most disgusting exhibition of brutal and remorseless cha- racter. It does not accord with my subject to discuss the matrimonial history of this Monarch, but we may glance at one illustrative scene. It is the month of May, the loveliest and sweetest of seasons in England, in the year 153G. A Bcaffold is prepared on the Tower green. The beautiful and accomplished Anne Boleyn is conducted from her chamber in the Tower to that scaffold. The sight of the Queen, so youthful, so fascinating in beauty, so unfortunate, is enough to move the hardest heart. Even the executioner is overcome by the gentle expression of her eyes — which by her urgent request are left unbandaged. Kneeling down on the scaffold she prays : Lord Jesus receive my soul, and, while the prayer is still trembling from her lips, the sword of the executioner falls. With one stroke her head is severed from her body, and a discharge of cannon announces to the great world out- side that one of the fairest and gentlest of England's daughters is no more. Turning away from the Tower to Epping Forest, while this dark deed is being done, we meet with a party at breakfast beneath the spreading branches of a large tree. The central figure of that sporting group is the bluff King, ostenta- tiously dressed in white as if for a festival. Ilestless and im- patient he is listening from time to time with intense anxiety. The sound of distant cannon booms through the woods. He understands the signal. " Ah ! ah !" exclaims the heartless ENGLISH REFORMATION. 91 soured by iion, with- 3y flattery [ and arbi- of society, he sceptre d gathered s interests, ich Henry if all others inly virtue, rseless cha- discass the nay glance the loveliest • 1536. A iautiful and er chamber Queen, so 13 enough to is overcome her urgent Ithe scaflfbld the prayer Icxecutioner her body, world out- 's daughters )ing Forest, a party at tree. The Ing, ostenta- less and im- ise anxiety, roods. He le heartless and unfeeling Monarch, as he starts up, " the business is done, uncouple the dogs and let us follow the sport." The next day he was married to Jane Seymour. And what of the unfortunate Queen ? Was she guilty ? Is it not strong presumptive evidence of the virtue and purity of Anne : that for so many years she was proof against Henry's own lawless passion and seductive arts ? An unbiassed exami- nation of the evidence adduced against Anne leads strongly to the conviction of her innocence. But, with a writer in Black- wood, "say she was guilty — the man who thus destroyed his wife should have his spurs of knighthood hacked from his hells : he has sunk to the vindictiveness of a savage." Can we wonder that the memory of such a man should bear the reproach of succeeding generations ? The eloquent historian, Froude, has tried hard to bring to light the better qualities of Henry's mind. Qualities of a nobler kind he unquestion- ably possessed; but over these higher features of character still thickly hangs the shadow of cruel, capricious, and ruthless deeds. Next to Henry VIII. the most conspicuous of those who undesignedly aided the Reformation was Cardinal Wolsey. We may not now speak of the pomp of Wolsey, of the splen- dour of his retinue, of the magnificeuce of his palace, or of his ostentatious style of living. Nor may we speak of those gor- geous processions in which dressed in silk and scarlet, glitter- ing with gold and costly gems, preceded by crosses and cross bearers, he paraded his dignity as representative of regal and pontifical power. Bishop with three mitres, Archbishop, Car- dinal, Legate, Chancellor, he grasped the temporal and spiritual power of the realm ; and might well utter his Eyo et Rex mens, for he was supreme in Church and State. He was arrogant and unscrupulous, but learned and astute ; and by force of character, commanding ability, and splendid policy rose from obscurity to distinction, power, and brilliant fame. If the Reformation could be crushed — the new-born principle of in- dependent thought stifled — heresy rooted out — the Word of God suppressed — freedom-loving Albion's Isle bound to the 98 ENGLISH liKFOinfFJiH AND THE throno of the Pontiff, — Wolsoy was the man to stifle thought, to root out licrcsy and to forge and rivet the chains of Eng- land's thrahlom. IJut strangely enough the acts and ambitious policy of this able and illustrious man were generally over- ruled for the promotion of the Reformation. Wolsoy aspired to the l*ap;d Sovereignty. Had he gained the tiara, as he seemed likely to do at one time, he would have wielded the thunderbolts of Home with an energy and vigor which, humanly speaking, would have smitten and blasted the struggling principle of religious life. ]Jut he was baffled and Bought revenge. " So be it," said the chafed Cardinal, " I will create such a confusion as the world has not seen for ages. I will do it even should England be swallowed up in the tempest." He mooted the famous divorce case for political purposes, but in so doing put in motion a train of events which he could not control and which ultimately resulted in the severance of Eng- land from the See of Rome He was desirous of securing the advancement of learning and the prestige of scholarly names for the advantage and aggrandisement of the Church, and for this purpose founded a new College at Oxford ; but the men whom he patronized became students of the sacred Scriptures and Christ Church College became a nursery of Reform. He needed money and it could be obtained by the suppression of religious houses over which he had jurisdiction, but in this he furnished a dangerous precedent. Sacrilege ! some have said in reference to the wholesale suppression of such institutions with the confiscations of their revenues ; but the first in spoli- ation was Cardinal Wolsey. The life of Wolsey seems to have been swayed by three ob- jects : the acquisition of political power, personal splendor and the increased magnificence of the Church j but in all these aims his life was a signal failure. Political influence vanished from his grasp like the fleeting shadow. Profusion and sumptuous display which had been the wonder and envy of kings, dwindled down into a last request for " a little earth" as a place of burial. His cfibr^s for the promotion of Papal Authority proved disastrous to pontifical interest and secured ENGLISH liKFOIiMATION. thought, of Eng- .nibitious Uy ovcr- 10 f^aincd )ul(l have unci vif^or lasted the nfflcd and il, " I will r ages. I : tempest." poses, but 3 could not CO of Eng- icuring the arly names -h, and for t the men Scriptures form. He prcssion of in this he have said institutions st in spoli- three ob- tl splendor lin all these be vanished fusion and id envy of earth" as of Papal id rsccurcd the triumph of the Reformation. Well might the immortal Dramatist make him say : " I haato now to my setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhuhition in tlio evening, And no man see mo more." We have now to look briefly at the lives of a few of the Leaders of (he Rc/unnallon. A system or movement may often be typified and represented by the qualities of a single mind. The predominating genius of the Keformation in Ger- many was that of Martin Luther, in Switzerland that of Zwingle, in Geneva that of John Calvin, and the masterspirit of Scotland was that of the heroic John Knox. In I'iiigland, at that period, no one stood in single pre-eminence ; but there were mow who, in sell-denying effort and eminent fitness for their special work, challenge our admiration and claim recog- nition as the reprcnentadve men of the English llefurmaLion. We may select three of the most illustrious of these llclbrmers : Cranmer the ecclesiastical statesman, Latimer the faiihful and fearless preacher, and Tyndale the accomplished liible translator. Cranmer, with the Book of Common Prayer, the great work of his life, in his hand, comes he/ore us as the Ecclesias- tical Reformer. lie ranks first of the representative men of that religious movement of the IGth century in England. His mind reflects much of that calm dignity and benignant beauty which, principally through his instrumentality, were 60 largely impressed upon the national Church, and perhaps the imperfections of that venerable and stately organization reflect, no less faithfully, the peculiar type and hue of Cran- mer's mind and character. After leaving the University, in which he had been dis- tinguished for scholarly and scriptural studies, where, aa examiner for degrees, he had proved the terror of stupid monks, he resided for some time in Waltham Abbey, when a casual conversation at supper-table, changed the course and current of his life. He questioned the expediency of negotia- tions with Rome in the vexed case of Henry and Catherine of IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 i.l Sil 12.8 III12 IM M 2.0 1.8 !■ 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" _ ► V} ^ //, mf (?. c^i VI O /,. 7 /A Photographic Sciences Corporation iV <^ L1>^ :\ \ ^^^'jk^^ ^ A<&1 ^'^ ^ % '1? 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 %^ ^ / ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE Aragon. The i»ord of God was the highest authority; — above Popes, above Fathers, above Councils, — and the safest and most satisfactory course would be to consult its teachings and abide by its decisions. Henry was pleased with counsel which seemed likely to lead to the speediest solution of an in- tricate question, and with Cranmer, whom, for the furtherance of his policy and purpose, he promoted to the See of Canter- bury and the Primacy of England. His elevated position, as first ecclesiastical dignitary of the realm, was one of difficulty and danger; but Cranmer was gifted with a good share of policy and prudence. Launched out on the troubled tide of religious revolution, as it rushed furiously over national mind, he kept his course through a stormy and convulsed period in which men, less cautious or more conscientious, or even more courageous than himself, quickly disappeared from the scene. Though during the life of Henry VIII., of whom he stood in fearful awe. and vcLcrated as '• The majestic lord Who broke the bonds of Rome," Cranmer was compelled to concede and to compromise, some- times unworthily, yet he wielded an influence steadily in favor of Reform ; and when released from that " too awful subjec- tion," he carried on the work of reformation with vigor and success. While many others were expending their energy and exhibiting their selfishness in conspiracy and intrigue, this amiable prelate, in his retreat at Lambeth, quietly prosecuted his great work in supplying the religious wants of the people, and especially in translating those ancient Latin prayers, which have constituted the manual of devotion for millions of Eng- lish people. Altars were abolished and communion tables substituted ; a Liturgy was compiled and Homilies were appointed to be read in Churches ; the worship of God was from henceforth celebrated in the living language of the people, and psalms and prayers, in homely Saxon, pierced the heavens; the doctrines of Protestantism were stated with accuracy t fulness. Many superstitions which in the name of religion had been ENGLISH REFORMATION. 95 hority ; — the safest teachings h counsel of an in- irtherance )f Canter- osition, as ■ diflBculty 1 share of led tide of Dnal mind, period in ;ven more the scene, n he stood nise, pomo- ly in favov ul subjec- vigor and jnergy and ^ue, this prosecuted the people, yers, which ns of Eng- ibstituted ; nted to be henceforth psalms and doctrines fulness. had been practised by the people and sanctioned by the Church were now prohibited. No penances ! no pilgrimages ! no worship of saints, or shrines, or sacred relics ! no Latin prayers ! no monastic vows ! no holy water in thunderstorm ! no candles on Candlemas day, or ashes on Ash-Wednesday, or palms on Palm-Sunday ! no creeping to the cross on Good Friday ! With many of the people such sweeping changes found little favor. They thought it dull business to come to church for worship and hearing of sermons. With the death of Edward VI., and the accession of Mary — the bigoted and relentless — commenced a fearful re-action in the work of religious reform. Gardiner of Winchester and Bonner of London now became the ruling and dominant spirits of the time. Gardiner was an able and courageous, but cun- ning and unscrupulous man. According to a writer in the Harlein MSS., " he was to be traced like a fox and read like Hebrew. If you would know what he did you must observe what he did not." Bonner in baseness was far below Stephen Gardiner. His mind seemed destitute of every noble quality, and his character presented no redeeming feature. His coarse- ness and cruelty have been universally despised, and his name very justly branded with infamy. Cranmer was lodged in the tower. His imprisonment does not add anything to his reputation. He counted his life too dear; and in his weakness, alone, tried and forsaken, he signed, again and again, until six times, the formula of recan- tation. Yet Cranmer redeemed his reputation, and by his for- titude in his last moments, nobly atoned for his past failure. The triumph of the closing scene was complete. After a memorable confession he went cheerfully to the flames. The hand — " that unworthy hand" — with which ho signed the re- cantation was first plunged into the fire, and first consumed. On March 15th, 1556, the name of Thomas Cranmer was added to the long roll of witnesses whose blood has sealed the Truth, and his spirit, still victorious, joined the " noble army of martyrs" and received the garland to martyrdom given . While not insensible to many weaknesses in his character, 96 ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE and many serious blemishes in his life, wc must protest against the statement of Macaulay : that Cranmer was " merely a timid, supple, and interested courtier, in times of frequent and violent change." Timid he might be ; but he was severely tried ; and the times in which he lived needed men with nerves of steel, and hearts strong as the granite r jk. He sometimes stooped to unworthy compromise ; but " he had to thread his way through dark and winding paths before he could emerge upon us with the Prayer-Book in his hand." The gravest charge is that of persecution. He consented to, concurred in, and approved of, the burning of better and braver men — men who, fully as conscientious as himself, were more heroic in their constancy. But there has always been a disposition in the human heart to persecute, in the name of our holy religion, when power availed and circumstances were favorable. John Cal- vin raised no voice in the councils of Geneva against the burn- ing of Servetus. The sober Puritans, in the day of their power, were just as intolerant, and as unlovely in their intol- erance, as the gay Cavaliers by whom they had been humbled to the dust. The Pilgrim Fathers in the new world exhibited a spirit of bigotry quite as detestable, and as unjustifiable, as that by which they themselves had been driven into wild and wilderness. Much, therefore, as we detest the spirit which generates persecution, we are disposed, in consideration of the training he received, the intolerance of the times, and the pro- pensity to persecution so often exhibited, even by otherwise excellent men, to make allowance for Cranmer, and, over his faults, to cast the mantle of charity. Occupying a prominent place among the representative men of the great religious revolution of the ICth century, was Bishop Latimkr, the Preacher op the Reformation. Latimer was a genuine Englishman. He was a man of strong and resolute purpose, and he possessed u mind of the most robust and healthy type. As a Romanist he was vigor- ous and whole-souled in his opposition to the new Faith. In approbation of his fire and fervor he was appointed cross- bearer to the University. In an oration on " Philip Melanc- ENGLISH REFORMATION. 07 test agaiDst ely a timid^ and vioIeDt rely tried j I nerves of sometimes thread his lid emerge 'he gravest neurred in, men — men oic in their ion in the igion,when John Cal- t the burn- y of their heir intol- 1 humbled exhibited tifiable, as ) wild and irit which tion of the ad the pro- otherwise I, over his tative men itury, was RMATION. a man of ind of the [vas vigor- aith. Id ,cd cross- Melanc- thon and his doctrines," he attacked the Reformers with such acuteness and vehemence as to inspire his friends with the hope, of which they proudly boasted, that Cambridge would furnish a champion for the Apostolic church lully competent to confront the heretic doctors of Wittemberg. At the close of his triumphant effort, Uilney, the student of the New Testament, who had been listening with deep interest, threw himself at the feet of the zealous cross-bearer. " For the love of God," said the wasted, pale-faced, and intensely earnest penitent, " be pleased to hear my humble confession." IJiluey the heretic come to confess ! My discourse on Melancthon has converted him ! thought Latimer. The stain of heresy will now be purged out, the loyalty of Cambridge from henceforth will be untarnished, and the triumph of the church will bo complete. And Biluey made his confession. Ho spoke of mental anguish and spiritual disquiet, of the insuflSciency of tho rites and requirements of the church, and of the strange sweet peace which flowed into his soul, as with trembling hand he opened, for the first time, a copy of the New Testament and read, in that prohibited book, the thrilling words, " It is a faithful snying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." Biinoy arose, but Lati- mer remained. The proud man was rebuked. The strong man was slain. The simple but well ordered words of tho Protestant student had sunk like arrows into his heart. The confessor and not the penitent needed the absolution ; and Biinoy whispered for his comfort : " Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be white as snow." Latimer, like Luther, was eminently a man of the people. His heroism and fearlessness awoke their sympathies. Ho spoke a language — strong, sturdy, sharp and ringing, sober and sensible Saxon — which they loved to hear. Hough and uncourtly his words might occasionally be, but they were well suited to his purpose. Latimer stands at the head of a noble band of men who rose up at the Reformation to revive an almost obsolete Institution, and who have been followed, in true apostolical succession, by an illustrious host, whose geniu8» 98 ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE erudition and eloquence have impressed upon the British Pul- pit that character of grandeur and power in which it has been surpassed in no other country. In our times the pulpit is simply the medium of religious instruction ; but in the days of Latimer, Ridley, Hooper, and other preachers of the Refor- mation, it was what the press has since become — the tongue of the nation — the organ of public remonstrance — and uttered its voice, not only on spiritual themes, but also upon political and social grievances. In dealing with subjects of national interest, Latimer was very powerful. The point and pith and rugged energy of his style had an unrivalled charm for the common people, and his keen invective and cutting satire were felt and feared by princes and prelates, as the most terrible thunder of the Times would be in our day. Rut the discussion of public and political questions does not constitute the highest mission of the pulpit. In matters of pub- lic and passing interest the press may be mightier than the pul- pit ; in dealing with purely intellectual themes the scholar and the man of science may have the mastery over the preacher j in the realm of imagination, though the sacred orator burn with impassioned fervor, and " preen his wings of fire," the poet may soar in still loftier flight and wield more potent magic where- with to charm the fancy ; but in its own sphere — in dealing with the conscience — the master faculty of man's being — the pulpit is unrivalled. It is true that those subjects of public and political interest, which come within the immediate pro- vince of the journalist, are those which afllect all men's in- terests, and agitate all men's passions, thus heaving society to its depths, and rushing around us as the earthquake, the tem- pest, and the fire of Horeb j while the pulpit, dealing with man's inner nature, wields an influence of necessity silent and unseen, as that still small whisper-breathed voice of God which, though it burnt in no bush and shivered no rocks, powerfully affected the prophet's heart. In this highest de- partment of pulpit effort the princeliest of all the preachers of that age was Bishop Latimer. Memorials of his heart-search- ing ministry have lived through three centuries. Froude de- •itish Pul- !; has been pulpit is I the days the Refor- he tongue nd uttered a political r national i pith and m for the atire were it terrible IS does not srsof pub- m the pul- 3hoIar and (acher; in )urn with poet may ic where- dealing -the of public liate pro- aen's in- ociety to the tem- ng with y silent of God rocks, est de- chers of f-search- ude de- d !ing- ENGLISH REFORMATION. 99 scribes some of his discourses as rising to almost unexampled grandeur, and Southey says that Latimer did more for the Reformation by his preaching, than any other man who took part in that movement. On the 16th of October, 1555 — a memorable day in the calendar of Protestant England — Latimer in his shroud and Ridley in his gown were committed to the flames. " Be of good cheer," said the brave and undaunted Latimer to his fel- low-sufferer, as the fire slowly wreathed around them, " we shall this day light such a candle by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out." Soon the struggle closed, and the spirit of Latimer, the best and bravest, and that of Ridley, the loveliest and most accomplished, of the Reformers, from that Oxford pile, went upward in their chariot of fire mingling with the noble army of martyrs and receiving star- gemmed crowns, such as earthly conquerors never won or wore. To these illustrious martyrs and their glorious compeers we owe much ; yet have we done them scant justice. Their ashes have been scattered, too often, no marble tells us whither. History, so warm on other themes, is cold on this. The com- mon annals of empires have passed them by. Eloquence has rarely burned into inspiration in the narration of their chivalric and heroic deeds — "With their names No poet embalms, or sanctifies his song." Statesmen and warriors and patriots have received proud recompense. The storied urn, the trophied tomb, the sculp- tured marble and the monumental column are memorials of their deeds. And we grudge not such recognition of their grandeur or their greatness. But fairer wreaths are due, though never paid, To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth, Have fallen in her defence. And when earthly renown shall have ceased, and the glittering mausoleum shall have perished, and the world itself shall have been burnt up, then the names and deeds of those noble mar- 100 ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE tyrs shall ihinc as the hrifjhtness of heaven and as the stars in the firmament for ever and ever. The Reformation in England has no Representative name more deserving of memorial than that of William Tyndalk THE Translator. We love to think of this honoured man — of eommanding presence, broad capacious brow, quick penetrating glance, firm yet genial expression of countenance, great learning and of most exemplary character. In erudition, keen logic and ready wit, he was the match of Sir Thomas More. The name of Tyndale rcprcscnta the mightiest influence which moved the heart of the nation at tliat eventful period, and made the IGth century what it afterwards became — the greatest of all the centuries. The Bible in the Universities and the Palace, in baronial hall arfl the labourer's lowly hut, in English hearts and homes, and scattered broad-cast through the land, gave depth, vitality, and permanence to the Reformation, and con- stituted it the most glorious movement of the ages. In the year 151G, the Greek Testament of Erasmus, with Latin translation, prepared with great care and accuracy, crossed the Channel from Ra^le to England. As the work of a scholar deeply imbued with the spirit of Greek literature, it was eagerly welcomed by English students. Erasmus was in heart a Reformer. Clear-headed and brilliant, and wielding a weapon of most polished satire, he lashed and lampooned the adherents of Rome, until the world rang with laughter ; but he lacked the heroic firmness needed for those troubled times, and became a mere trimmer between alternating and contend- ing systems. He was king of the schools, and in the revival of letters had no rival ; but when the religious element became controlling and all-dominant, he yielded the sceptre to firmer and more vigorous grasp. But while the star of Erasmus was still in the ascendant, and his brilliant scholarship renowned throughout Europe, he accomplished his greatest work. " A Spiritual Temple," he said, " must be raised in desolated Christendom. The mighty of this world will contribute their marble, their ivory, and their gold. I who am poor and hum- the stars in ativo name : Tyndalk )mmaDdiDg ing glance, lining and I logic and The name moved the le the IGth of all the Palace, in li&h hearts land, gave I, and con- jmus with accuracy, ic work of |crature, it IS was in wielding a boned the liter ; but |led times, contend- \e revival it became I to firmer sums was [cnowned •k. " A lesolated ite their td hum< ENGLISH REFORMATION. 101 bio offer the foundation stone." And he laid down before the world his edition of the Greek Testament. Among those who welcomed the New Testament was William Tyndale — then of Oxford. Its truths and teachings sank deep into the mind of this intellectual and earnest student, and pre- pared him for his life-work. After leaving the University he found a quiet retreat in the hospitable mansion of Sir John Walsh. Here sprang up the great idei, which, subsequently, ho so nobly wrought out. In the language of Israel the Law was read, and Psalms sung in the Temple of Jehovah ; and at Jerusalem, on the Pentecost, when Christianity received its magnificent inaugural, strangers from every nation under heaven heard in their own tongue, wherein they were born, the wonderful works of God. Why in this land should not the Gospel speak in the language of the people ? At the table of the generous Baronet, at Sodbury Hall, he was accustomed to meet a number of priests to whom his learning, wit, repartee, and constant reference to the Greek Testament were a source of annoyance and humiliation. In reply to one of those irritated ecclesiastics he uttered the memorable words, to which has been applied the Sapphic eulogy,* " more golden than gold :" If God spare my life ere manij years I tcill cause a boy that drlveth the pluur/h to know more of the Scriptures than yon do. Such an intimation of his purpose raised a storm of opposition. The Manor-House in Gloucestershire, surrounded by Italian priests, who had been installed in the best livings of the Church, could no longer afford him security. He sought patronage and protection, in vain, in his own much- loved land. He was compelled sorrowfully to the conclusion that there was no room in all England for the translation of the New Testament. Sailing to the Continent he found a re- treat in Hamburg, and, while enduring hunger and cold, he toiled day and night that he might give the Bible to the people of England. In the city of Cologne the work of print- ing was auspiciously begun, and Tyndale was filled with joy ; * Chrttsotera chnuou. 102 ENGLISH REFORMERS AND THE but when they had reached the tenth sheet the project was discovered, and all seemed lost. Tyndale was a man of courage and resource, and gathering up the printed sheets, he escaped up i\\G river and found an asylum in the ancient city of Worms. Unnoticed and ungrected, sustained only by a brave heart and fearless faith, carrying with him his bale of printed sheets, Tyndale made his way to that city into which just before, in defiance of papal thunderings and sacerdotal lightnings, Martin Luther the glorious Reformer had made his memorable en- trance ; in " which prophet-like that lone one stood and spake undaunted words and high ;" from which he had been mysteri- ously carried to his quiet retreat at Wartburg to accomplish for Germany what Tyndale was doing for England, the trans- lation of the sacred Scriptures into the language of the com- mon people. For the purpose of eluding the vigilance of his enemies, Tyndale commenced an octavo, instead of the original quarto, and it was first completed. But one copy of this famous work, around which gather such hallowed memories, is known to exist, and is preserved in the Bupti.st Museum at Bristol These two editions, the octavo of Worms and the quarto com- menced at Cologne, were completed about the same time and, in January 1526, were safely landed in England. Now com- menced in good earnest the struggle between Rome and the Reformation. On the 11th of February, about a month after the first arrival, all that could be gathered up, by diligent search in London, Oxford and Cambridge, were, under the auspices of Cardinal Wolsey, committed to the flames. But while in England copies were consumed to ashes, on the Con- tinent the press was kept at work, and new editions were rapidly multiplied. They were conveyed, principally in corn- vessels, across the Channel, and it was said, " with bread-corn came bread from heaven." Yet were these trying days for Tyndale and his coadjutors. Even in the glorious work of translating the Holy Scriptures, they could not subsist without the bread that perisheth ; nor could they, without substantial means, employ the printing- press. On one occasion of financial embarrassment, he obtained ENGLISH REFORMATION. 103 project was ti of courage , ho escaped f of Worms, re heart and lied sheets, t before, Id Dgs, Martin uorable en- 1 and spake ten mysteri- accomplish , the trans- of the com- lance of his the original this famous s, is known at Bristol quarto com- e time and, Now com- le and the lonth after )y diligent under the mes. But the Con- Itions were J in corn- )read-corn oadjutors. criptures, leth ; nor printing- obtained unexpected relief Tonstall of London, an adherent of Rome, and therefore an adversary to the Bible, being desirous of cut- ting off, at its source, the stream of Sacred Truth, then begin- ning to flow for the healing of the nation, made arrangement with a London merchant for the purchase of an entire edition of the New Testament. Bishop Tonstall obtained the books, which he committed to the flames. Master Packington received episcopal commendation which did not enrich him. Tyndale was furnished with money, which enabled him to complete, as he much desired, a more correct edition. The bon-fire at Paul's Cross, the Thermopylae of the Reformation, served as a special advertisement of copies of the Word of God, issuing, with increasing rapidity, from the continental presses. Tyndale finished the translation of the New Testament, and of the Old Testament, as far as the second book of Chronicles, — about two thirds of the entire Scriptures. The excellence of Tyndale's version has been universally acknowledged and, by biblical scholars, fully appreciated. It lias formed the ba.sis of all subsequent translations of the Bible into the Knglish tongue. In the year 1536, the noble and magnanimous William Tyn- dale was called to sufier unto death and to seal the truth with his blood. At the stake he offered a memorable prayer for the Sovereign of England. lie was first strangled and then com- mitted to the flames. So closed the life of one of the noblest and most honored confessors of the English Church. As the redeemed spirit of the martyred Tyndale mounts upward in its triumphal car, we can in thought follow him to a more brighter and more congenial sphere ; in which the dust and din and turmoil of life have all passed away ; with the trumpets of the shining ones sounding around him ; the harpers harping on their harps, and the coronation anthems loudly ringing ; — upon his radiant brow is placed the victor's coronet wreathed and jewelled with costlier things than the mines of the moun- tains, or the depths of the sea have ever furnished. •' Let harp, and lute, and voice Up to the expanding gates of heaven rejoice, While the bright martyr to hia rest is borne ; 104 ENGLISH RRFOIiMEnS AND THE Sing to tlio Lord ! his blood-stainod course is run, And his head its diadem liuth won, Rich us the purple of the Bummor mom ; Sing the triumphant champion of his God, While bum his moun'ing feet along that starry road." Such was the Reformation of the 16th Century in England. There were unquestionably 7?o^/V/W/^ influences preceding and running parallel with the revival of religion, and much of law- less ambition and spiritual assumption which were signally overruled for the promotion of civil and religious liberty ; but the vital, ennobling, enduring elements of that movement are most fitly typified and rcprcsentfd by the honored names of Cranmcr, Latimer, Tyndale and their compeers and coadjutors in this great work. These men fell at their post and sealed the truth with their blood, and for a time the Reformation seemed arrested ; but the principles for which they suffered sank deeply into the heart and mind of the nation. With the accession of Elizabeth — thoroughly Tudor in selfwill and caprice, but wise and vigorous in administration, gre.it and illustrious in the annals of Protestantism — the bright star of the Reformation rose to the ascendent. The principles for which the Reformers contended and nobly suffered were tri- umphantly established, and Protestantism became the guiding policy of the English nation. From the publication of T^n- dale's Testament to the end of Queen Elizabeth's reign some tico hnmh'ctl and si'xtcen editions of the sacred Scriptures issued from the press of f^ngland. Emancipated from temporal and spiritual thraldom — papal interference, Italian priests and troops of monks and friars, — delivered from degrading spiritual superstitions, favored with the inestimable boon of liberty — an unfettered conscience and the right of private judgment — blessed with a simple and scriptural worship, — a reformed Church, an evangelical ministry, a pure and noble liturgy, and above all, an unsealed Bible — England became the first of Protestant nations — iha paladium of the Protestant Religion. The greatness of England is pre-eminently Protestant great- ness ; and only in her fidelity to the principles of the Refor- Ky a L isif nKFoitMA Tins. lOB a." England, iding and ch of law- j signally crty ; but iment are names of coadjutors nd scaled I formation y suffered With the ■'-will and greit and »t star of ciplcs for were tri- e guiding 1 of Tyn- ign some res issued poral and lests and spiritual [iberty — jment — reformed [rgy, and first of leligion. ^it great- le Refor- mation can we hope for continued progress. Dr. Croly has clearly shown that her prf»sj)erity has been connected with her Protestantism ; and that her national renown has been uniform with the di.^countenatice of Ilomanisni. From the time she stood before the world avowedly Protestant, she has continued to rise in greatness and glory. Since then she has never been subjected to huuiiliiitiiig defeat, nor has .she suf- fered any degrading disaster. She has never been spoiled by foreign invader, torn by internal faction, nor convulsed by revolution. Since then she has afforded an a.syluni for the persecuted and exiled of every class and clime. Protestant Catholic and Roman Catholic, patrician and plebeian, ruler and captive, have alike found shelter under her time-honoured flag. And what has been her strength — her security and sta- bility ? We fearlessly reply : An unsealed — a vidc-npen BIhle. Lord Macaulay has suggested the idea : that the greatness of Britain may cease ; that her monuments and palaces and cities may crumble and decay ; that the New Zealander, from the other side of the world, taking his stand upon London Bridge and looking down upon mouldering ruins, may con- template the departed glory of the Great Metropolis. And the argument i.s, that other nations, mighty and famous, have passed away. No sooner have the greatest Empires reached the climax of their greatness, than at once has commenced their decline. The arts and learning of Egypt ; the greatness and gorgeousness of Nineveh; the might and magnificence of l^abylon; the commerce of Carthage, the pride of Greece, and the power of Rome only live in the page of history, or in fragments of ruins. But the voluptuousness and licentious- ness, the vice and depravity of these older nations proved their ruin. The masses became morally corrupt, their minds enervated, and they were unable to compete with their youth- ful and more vigorous rivals. While Rome was sending forth her conquering armies, and trampling the nations with her iron foot, she was powerless to restrain the vices of her own citizens. The highest moral precept she could give them was : " Live every day as if the eye of Cato were upon you." ^^ 106 ENGLISH REFORMERS. But it is not so with Britain. Her hopes grow more youth- ful with her age, for she hath the " Word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever." Bible truth has been deeply instilled into the minds of her people, and she is to-day the centraltfor- tress, the strongest citadel of the moral world. From her walls waves the brightest and loftiest banner for the cause of a pure faith and a progressive civilization. We have been told that — and that " Britannia needs no bulwark, No tower along the steep ;" " Her march is on the mountain wave, Her home is on the deep ;" but not her armies, however indomitable — not her fleets, how- ever matchless — not her laws, however just — but an open Bible is England's strength and stay. The English Reformers have bequeathed to us not only a precious heritage of truth, but a noble example of constancy and fidelity j and we cannot think without a sense of burning shame and indignation of the aspersions cast upon their hon- ored names, of the attempted return to medieval practices, or of the arrogant assumption of obsolete ecclesiastical claims, by men false to their solemn vow and recreant to their sacred trust. But whatever defection may exist in one section of the Established Church, the tone and character of British Chris- tianity is still thoroughly evangelical : " The ancient spirit is not dead, Old times, methinks, are breathing still." The great heart of the nation yet beats true to the princi- ples of the Reformation ; Enoland is still Protestant ! nore youth- rhich liveth ly instilled centralifor- From her le cause of have been leets, how- t an open not only a constancy of buminj? their hon- ractices, or claims, by leir sacred tion of the tish Cliria- the princi- J