remembrances of his father's bloody death, and of the perils he must have witnessed in his early childhood, or seen reflected from his mother's brow. In shepherd's garb he learned to love the simple folk and the mute creation with whom his days were spent; he carried, too, into all his after life, peacefully protracted, as it was, to a good old age, a passion for the tranquil pursuits of science; for, while tending his flocks, he gazed from the lonely mountain-top upon the stars, and the beauty and peace. of their placid motion sank deep into the soul of the fierce warrior's child. His fathers, through many a generation, had been surrounded by all the pomp of chivalry and by their troops of vassals; but, for this boy

"To his side the fallow-deer

Came and rested without fear;
The eagle, lord of land and sea,
Stoop'd down to do him fealty."

It was not until after more than twenty years-not until after the dynasty of the house of York had passed away— that the young Clifford was restored to his estates, to which he came, doubtless, a wiser and a better man than any of his stern progenitors; for, as a poet has commemorated the story of his life, which history has hardly heeded, this Clifford was one

"Who long compelled in humble walks to go,

Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed.

Love had he found in huts where poor men lie,
His daily teachers had been woods and rills,

* Wordsworth's Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle. Works, p. 187.

The silence that is in the starry sky,

The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

In him the savage virtue of the race,

Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead :
Nor did he change; but kept in lofty place
The wisdom which adversity had bred.

Glad were the vales, and every cottage hearth;

The shepherd lord was honoured more and more:
And ages after he was laid in earth,

'The good Lord Clifford' was the name he bore.”*

One of the most remarkable facts connected with this period of history is, that, when the Wars of the Roses were over, after all the aggravated and unsparing hostilities, little animosity appears to have remained among the survivors and their descendants. The solution of this fact is this, I believe :-that, having taken the field simply as retainers of nobles opposed to each other, they ceased to cherish belligerent feelings, when the relation to their superior lord ended. The vassal of Clifford, for example, and the vassal of Salisbury fought fiercely with each other; but, when they ceased to be the fighting vassals, they looked upon each other as fellow-countrymen, and so their hatred was spent.

After dwelling upon the evils of these distressful times, I wish not to overlook the good that was silently working out from them. While the two aristocratic factions of the realm were sweeping along with the tide of war a large portion of the people, composed of the multitude of their retainers, there was still a mass of the popula

Wordsworth's Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle. Works,

p. 188.

tion that kept aloof from the strife, who neither shared in it nor suffered by it. There was happily no ecclesiastical element in the war; the church was not known in it—it was neither Yorkist nor Lancastrian; and no bishop or abbot appeared in it, except to stay, if possible, the shedding of blood, or to give sanctuary to the helpless or comfort to the suffering. While the feudal power of the nobles was sinking, the common people were rising. It has been well observed by Southey, that-"Inasmuch as both parties exerted themselves to bring into the field all the force they could muster, the villeins in great numbers were then emancipated when they were embodied in arms; and great numbers emancipated themselves, flying to London and other cities for protection from the immediate evils of war; or, taking advantage of the frequent changes of property, and the precarious tenure by which it was held, to exchange their own servile condition for a station of freedom with all its hopes and chances."

It is to be observed, too, that, ferocious and sanguinary as the civil war was, its fury spared the cities and towns. There was no burning or sacking of towns; there was no pillaging or devastation of churches or monasteries, so that a peaceful current of good was still flowing underneath the war. It is a noticeable fact that, during the perturbed reign of Henry the Sixth, as if at once to meetwhat could not then have been foreseen-the wants of the people as they rose from feudal servitude, schools in London and throughout the realm were extensively endowed.*

* The spread of education was one of the innovations, it will be remembered, that excited the ire of Jack Cade when his ruffians brought Lord Say a prisoner to him, and Cade tells him—

Having spoken, somewhat contemptuously, perhaps, of the utter insignificance of Henry the Sixth, in the warlike doings of his reign, I must add, in justice, that his memory is finely redeemed, for national gratitude is due to him for that college at Cambridge, the gorgeous Gothic architecture of which has made the name of King's College famous over the world. He was also the founder of Eton College--that great school which stands by the side of the ancient palace of England's kings, and with the red-cross flag on Windsor Castle waving in sight of it. Instead of leaving your mind with a contempt for the good King Henry the Sixth-instead of dismissing the subject with the last thought of his gentle unfitness for a warlike reign, I am glad to turn to a vindication of his memory-a plea for gratitude that, not long since, was wisely and appropriately uttered in Eton College:

"If we were required to point out the most disastrous period of English history, we should, perhaps, fix upon the reign of Henry the Sixth. In his earlier years he saw the foreign possessions acquired by his father's victories, successively wrested from his hands; and, towards its close, he saw his kingdom wasted by the fury of civil war, and the blood of his subjects profusely shed in the

"Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm, in erecting a grammar school; and, whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used; and, contrary to the king, his crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun, and a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian can endure to hear." H. R.

unnatural contest. He himself, meanwhile, appeared in no degree to influence the progress of events, which were to terminate in the loss of his sceptre and his life. Transferred from a throne to a prison, and again from a prison to a throne, he seemed to be the sport of fortune; a merely passive instrument in the hands of others; a spectator, rather than an actor, in the eventful drama. His thoughts and affections were fixed upon very different objects from those for which worldly ambition contends. Bent on securing for himself an imperishable crown, he felt little solicitude about the perishable crown which was to be the prize of the victor in the bloody strife. The world, therefore, while it has bestowed on him some portion of its pity, as on one who underwent much unmerited suffering, has pronounced him unfit for the station which he filled, and utterly useless in his generation. Yet it has pleased the Almighty to ordain that this despised, this suffering monarch, should exercise a more powerful and more permanent influence over future ages than many princes whose exploits are the theme of the world's applause. What traces can we now discern of the effects of his father's victories? They form a page, a brilliant page, in history, on which we dwell with exultation, and which has inspired many a bosom with the desire of military glory. But, as to any present influence on the interests of the country, they are as if they had never been; whereas, the foundation of Eton College exercises an influence which is now felt, tinue to be felt to the remotest times. To the intellectual and moral training, to which the youthful mind

and will con