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variably tamed, ruled, kept in abeyance; of any part of his teaching. “Humility," ” our likeness to God consisting in this he said, “is the virtue of an enlightened solitary and lordly will. Hence he be- understanding.” It “has its foundations came something of a moral idealist, strain- in a correct estimate of our characters..... ing the power of the will, both in theory It is to be formed not by fixing our and in practice, beyond its true limits. thoughts exclusively on the worst parts of He held up to himself a conception of our conduct, and ascribing the guilt of duty that necessarily made his religious these to our whole lives, but by observing faith seem one of mere aspiration-a rest- our whole lives impartially, surveying the less striving after an “ideal,” instead of a good and the evil in our temper and quiet trust in the mighty arm of God. general deportment, and in this way He wanted, in order to complete his type learning to what degree we are influenced of faith, an adequate belief in the divine by the various dispositions and principles capacity of the involuntary side of human which enter into our character.” Now nature-an adequate trust in the life and had this been the description of the mode conditions of feeling imposed upon the of truly estimating what our characters will, as well as in the freedom which those are like what are our tendencies and conditions circle. He needed to believe dangers-it would be true enough; but that God's life as well as his love runs pride consists in the desire to reject assistthrough these natural channels; that like-ance, to undervalue the assistance we ness to him does not consist in becoming have received, to stand alone where our as near as we may to pure creative wills; nature is not capable of standing alone. that the divine Word unites and inspires Humility has nothing to do with "enlightnot only our human natures, but our ened understanding,” it is a willingness human natures on their human side. This to see our need of help—to recognize to was Channing's difficulty in finding a so- the full the reality and amount of the help cial character for his religion. He thought, we have received. The clearest vision is in common with his Unitarian school, that consistent with pride—for we may discern, religious union came only from the infi- but discern most reluctantly, how little nite side; that it was the common arch we are. It is in the desire to claim a bending over us all, and that alone, which power we have not, not in the mistake of rendered common worship natural. Once claiming it, that the sin against humility take that view, and it is impossible not to lies. Nor could any question of measurdeprecate secretly the limitations of hu- ing present dispositions, and weighing manity; not to think we were meant for out individual temper arise in such a case. something diviner than than those limita- It is of course no humility to affect a tions; not to strain at an assimilation to lower estimate of ourselves than we really God on the free and voluntary side. But have; but it is not a question of estimate those who believe that the Word could re- at all; it is rather whether we are inclined ally become flesh, and that the same Word to credit ourselves with powers and dispodoes really still perennially penetrate with sitions which have been formed in us by life and draw together into unity the indi- no power of our own. Those who feel vidual souls of men, are not in danger that right consists in simply not resisting either of laying too heavy a burden on the divine life in us—in declining to make the individual wil, or of deprecating the a false choice--and that no higher power binding power of social, even though they than this is within the limits of human seem purely human, ties. They believe freedom, must feel that humility has more that the will of man, free as it is, is not to do with the willing recognition of the meant to guide, but only freely to follow divine life and Word in us, than with any guidance; and that the less it strives to microscopic attention to our own characcarve out its own path, the more quickly ters. In fact, the duty of estimating our and freely it will ascend.

own characters accurately is seldom a The defect we have pointed out in duty at all. If we are really eager to Channing's type of faith shines out espe- recognize the Light that shines into us, cially in his doctrine of humility, which we shall have no need to catalogue the genuinely humble as the man himself dark lines in the spirit on which it falls. was-is the meagerest and falsest in effect VOL. XLIV.-NO. III.


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In spite of his firm tramp, brawny arm, up and emptied of its contents, which, and stalwart frame, the Norman conqueror however, the care of a monk preserved in was at length conquered, and retired from his chamber. Here they continued till a the field of battle to succumb to the last subsequent insurrection, when the whole enemy in the monastery of St. Gervais at abbey was plundered, and the remains Rouen, the church of which is now re- were lost, except one of the thigh-bones, puted to be the oldest structure in the which was reïnterred, and a monument city. The closing scene was a melancholy raised over it in 1642. Even this relic spectacle. Robert, his first-born, to whom has disappeared, for the revolutionists of he bequeathed Normandy, was away pro- 1793 rifled the spot, and disposed of the secuting crusading adventures. William, fragment as if the last vestige of a dog. the second son, staid only to hear him- The furious democrats were not wise in self nominated to the crown of England, their generation, for the fleshless remnant and then left his father to get through his of the limb might have been preserved as last agony as he could, galloping off to an impressive memorial of the fate of the coast, eager to secure his prize. royalty; and a veritable thigh-bone of Henry, the third son, lingered sulky and the dreaded conqueror would now fetch grumbling, till his ready-money legacy a handsome price in the London market, was declared, when he departed likewise, where all things odd and rare are readily hurried to the treasury, carefully weighed disposed of to collectors who have more the silver, and placed it under iron locks cash than brains. and bindings. No sooner did the fatal As a hunter gay, William the Red King event occur, about sunrise on a Septem- entered the New Forest on a bright ber day, than nobles, knights, and priests August morning. He had slept the predecamped, to look after their own inter- vious night at a lodge within its preests, while servants set to work to plun. cincts. der, and the body of the once potent monarch lay stripped and deserted, till

“The Red King lies in Malwood-keep ; the charity of an obscure individual pro

To drive the deer o'er lawn and steep;

He's bound him with the morn. vided for its conveyance to a resting-place

His steeds are swift, his hounds are good; at Caen, according to the wish of the de

The like, in covert or high wood, ceased. But there was some difficulty in

Were never cheered with horn." effecting the funeral, as one of the bystanders, a man of low degree, claimed None more rigorously enforced the property in the site of the grave; and laws of the chase than he, or more cruelly the service for the dead was not allowed punished an infringement of them. It was to proceed till sixty sous had been paid some consolation to the poor Saxons condown as an installment of his rights. A temptuously to style him “a wood-keepplain gray. marble slab before the high al- er and no king;" at the same time firmly tar in the church of St. Stephen now believing that their oppressors were not marks the sepulcher of William the Con- always allowed to disport themselves with queror; but not an atom of him lies be- impunity, the Evil One sometimes interneath it. In 1542 the tomb was opened rupting their recreations in the hunting by the Bishop of Bayeaux, when the body grounds, and marring revelry with sore was found in good preservation, justify- disaster. The event of the day strengthing by its appearance the reports of chroni- ened this popular superstition, for the clers respecting his tall stature. But lifeless body of the Ked King was soon thirty years later it was violated during stretched upon the green-sward by the an insurrection, when the coffin was dug chance arrow of an attendant. Henry,

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his brother, left him to his fate, and put with the Loire. Courtiers who had tremting spurs to his horse, rode off to Win-bled at his word took a hurried departure, chester, to seize the royal treasury. The and personal retainers followed the examinvoluntary author of the deed fled, fear-ple of their superiors; but not before ing the consequences; and the barons they had stripped the dead man of every each departed to his residence, to put it rag, and the apartment of every article of in a posture of defense, as the succession value. After some delay, charity found might have to be decided by the sword. a winding-sheet for the body, and it was Towards evening, a man named Parkiss, removed for interment to the neighboring on returning home through the forest abbey of Fontevraud, then one of the from bis daily occupation of charcoal- wealthiest ecclesiastical establishments in burning, found the abandoned corpse ly- France, situated at the head of a little reing on the turf, which was saturated with tired and wooded valley. Here, previous blood. Ignorant of his quality, he placed to the funeral, the corpse was laid in the the slaughtered man in his cart and con- church, when, according to legendary veyed hin to Winchester. Rufus found a story, it shuddered convulsively at the grave in the cathedral, and was interred approach of Richard, an undutiful son, as in the center of the choir with little cere- if condemning and abhorring his unnatural mony, none grieving. The fall of a tower conduct. Richard I., the conqueror of in the following year, which covered his Saladin and hero of a hundred tights, retomb with its ruins, was commonly inter-ceived his death-wound before the castle preted as a sign of the displeasure of of Chaluz in the Limousin, the petty forHeaven that he had received Christian tress of a vassal, and was laid by the side burial. Speed relates that his bones were of his father at Fontevraud, where also afterwards taken up, and, being laid in reposed his mother, Queen Eleanor of a coffin along with those of Canute, were Guienne, and afterwards Isabella d’Anreplaced. A plain monumental stone now goulême, the queen of his brother John, marks the spot. It is singular that, after Recumbent effigies of these personages the lapse of eight centuries, cottagers of were placed upon the tombs-one of the the name of the charcoal-burner still re-earliest instances we have of this interestside in the New Forest, and that a wheel ing sepulchral relic of the middle ages. of the identical cart descended, to a re- The abbey remains, but it has been concent date, as an heirloom from father to verted into a prison- Maison Centrale de son, till used for fuel during an inclement Detention-one of the largest in France. winter.

The church is also entire as to the outside, Henry I., like his father the Conqueror, but the interior is wholly changed. Nor died abroad, on a December midnight, of are the royal tombs in their original posia disease brought on by his fondness for tion. They were torn up and rifled by lampreys. This was at Lions-la-Forêt, the Vandals of the Revolution, who sig. now a small town approached through the nalized their hatred of royalty by scatterremains of a forest in the vicinity of ing the ashes of the dead, and mutilating Rouen. His remains were interred in the the statues, which are now stowed away abbey of Reading, Berkshire, one of his in a dark corner of the south transept. foundations, a structure which has passed The effigies, though sadly defaced, still away, and no man knoweth of his sepul. retain some of the coloring with which cher. Stephen terminated his troubled they were omamented, and are of great reign at Dover, and found a resting place interest from the evident marks they bear by the side of his queen and son at the of being portraits. Both kings are repremonastery of Faversham, in Kent, which sented in royal robes, without armor. he had founded. There his corpse re- Ceur de Lion's figure is remarkable for mained till the dissolution of the abbeys, its broad forehead and tall stature, six feet when, for the possession of the leaden and a half. It has been frequently sug. coffin, it was exhumed, and its contents gested that application should be made to thrown into the sea.

have these monuments of the first PlantaThe restless and fiery Henry II. breathed genets transferred to Westminster Abbey his last at the castle of Chinon, the French as a fitting asylum, now that no fragment Windsor of the Plantagenet kings, now of the dead remains in connection with an imposing ruin on a commanding them; a concession whic would doubtheight, near the junction of the Vienne lest be immediately granted by the French

government, in return for having received foully murdered in Berkeley Castle, Glouthe body of Napoleon from St. Helena, cestershire, by order of Mortimer, the inand his will from Doctors' Commons. famous paramour of his infamous queen,

The worthless John was seized with was hurriedly conveyed to a grave in mortal sickness in the fens of Lincolnshire, Gloucester Cathedral. Deplorable degraafter seeing the sumpter-horses that car- dation marked the last hours of Edward ried his money drowned in the marshes, III., at Shene Palace, afterwards called and taking an immoderate quantity of Richmond, for the practice of abandoning peaches or pears and new cider to console royalty in the article of death was adopthimself under the misfortune. With great ed in his case. Before the old man's difficulty, he successfully reached the cas- breath left him, ministers and courtiers tles of Sleaford and Newark, in the last went off to his successor; the vile hag of which he ended a disgraceful career, whom he had cherished deserted him and was removed at his own desire to be likewise, after stealing the ring from his buried in Worcester Cathedral. His tomb helpless finger; and his other personal atthere, in the center of the choir, has a tendants quitted the chamber to plunder full recumbent effigy, the first memorial the house. The ashes of the mighty vicof the kind executed in England for an tor at Crecy repose in the same tomb with English monarch. It was opened in 1796, those of his wife, in the Confessor's Chapel, when the corpse was found nearly entire, Westminster Abbey, according to her after an interment of five hundred and request on her death-bed. eighty years. His son, the feeble Henry The dethroned Richard II. perished III., died at Westminster, and was the violently in Pontefract Castle, Yorkshire; first of our sovereigns interred in its but a more than usual degree of mystery Abbey-church since the Saxon times, an rests upon the horrid transaction. "How edifice which he rebuilt from the founda- Richard died,” says Froissart," and by tion. The Pell Records contain an entry what means, I could not tell when I wrote of payment to two chaplains for divine this chronicle.” He then, in a naïve and service being performed at the hermitage touching manner, contrasts his former of Charing on the occasion of his decease, splendor and miserable fall; for never, at present one of the busiest sites in the says he, had king of England spent so metropolis, forcibly reminding us of the much money in keeping up a stately housedifferent character of the spot in the thir- hold. “And I, John Froissart, canon and teenth century. The tomb exhibits his treasurer of Chimay, saw it and consieffigy, finely executed in brass, and cast dered it, and I lived in it a quarter of a at the same time as the adjoining effigy of year, and good cheer did he give me; Queen Eleanor. Edward I. expired at the and when I departed from him, (it was at village of Burgh-upon-Sands, near Carlisle, Windsor,) on my leave-taking he gave me within sight of the Scotland which he had a silver goblet, gilt, and having within one vowed to subdue. But although he is said hundred nobles, therefore am I much to have left express orders for his bones bound to pray God for him.” Richard to be carried at the head of the army till was most probably dispatched by starvathe purpose was accomplished, they were tion. quickly deposited in Westminster Abbey by an unwarlike son, where the body was “ Close by the regal chair, found comparatively undecayed in 1774.

Fell Thirst and Famine scowl It was arrayed in royal robes, with crown

A baleful smile upon their baffled guest." and scepter, and measured six feet two inches; hence the soubriquet of Lonkshanks The corpse of the unhappy king was was not inaptly bestowed. The obsequies brought to London, and exhibited in St. are said to have been performed with Paul's as a public certificate of death, great splendor. In the accounts of his which was doubted by some, then reexecutors we have, among other entries, moved to Langley in Herts for interment, one of £100 paid “for horses purchased and finally to Westminster Abbey. His for knights to ride in the king's armor supplanter, and perhaps murderer, Henry before his body, between the church of IV., met a long expected death in the the Holy Trinity, London, and Westmin- Jerusalem Chamber, and was entombed ster."

in Canterbury Cathedral, by the side of The effeminate and deposed Edward II., his first wife, the only one of our sovereigns buried in that city. Henry V. ex. I their perfidious uncle, Richard, the usurppired at Vincennes, near Paris, and was er. Their bones, long inquired after and brought with mournful pomp to his native wished for, after lying one hundred and country for the last rites. Bishops in ninety-one years in the rubbish of the pontifical attire, mitered abbots, and a vast stairs, were, on the 17th of July, 1674, by inultitude of all ranks, met the body as it undoubted proofs discovered, being buried approached the capital. The churchmen deep in that place. Charles II., pitying chanted the service for the dead as it their unhappy fate, ordered those unfor· passed over London Bridge and through tunate princes to be laid among the relics the streets of the city; the obsequies of their predecessors, in the year 1678, were performed at St. Paul's in presence and the thirteenth of his reign.” Richard of the whole Parliament, and the remains III., the author of this foul deed, slain in were interred in state in Westminster Ab- the battle of Bosworth Field, was uncerebey. A headless and otherwise mutilated moniously thrown across a horse, and figure of the king, carved in oak, and ori- conveyed behind a pursuivant-at-arms to ginally covered with silver, marks the Leicester. There the corpse was buried tomb, above which are the saddle, helmet, in the church of St. Mary's, belonging to and shield, supposed to have been used at a monastery of the Grey Friars. His Agincourt.

conqueror placed over him a tomb adorned The imbecile Henry VI. died a captive with his statue in alabaster, where it rein the Tower, probably by violent means, mained till the dissolution of the abbeys, and was first interred at Chertsey: Abbey, when the monument was utterly destroyed, Surrey, then removed to Windsor, by or the grave rifled, and its human remains der of Richard III. His successor, Ed- ignominiously cast out. The stone coffin ward IV., ended his days of pleasure and was made a drinking-trough for horses, profligacy at Westminster, and was ex- at the White Horse Inn, Leicester, posed on a board after death, naked from The first of the Tudors, Henry VII., died ile waist upwards, in order that people at Richmond Palace, and was laid in the might see he had not been murdered—an magnificent chapel which he had built, and act strikingly illustrative of turbulent which bears his name, appended to Westtimes. He was then buried in St. George's minster Abbey. The tomb of black mar. Chapel, Windsor, the exquisitely beauti- ble stands in the center, inclosed in an ful edifice which he founded. A steel admirably executed chantry of cast brass, tomb, executed by Quintin Matsys, marks ornamented with statues. The brutal the spot. The body was found undecayed, Henry VIII. went to his account at Westthe dress nearly perfect, as were the linea- minster, not aware, till the last moment ments of the face, in 1789, after a period came, of his true condition, none caring to of three hundred and six years. The boy- tell him, as several persons had been put king, Edward V., and his younger brother, to death at various times for saying that the Duke of York, atrociously murdered the king was dying, or likely to die. He in the Tower, were privately buried within found a grave under the choir of St. its walls by the assassins, at a spot which George's Chapel, Windsor, where a leaden long remained unknown. But in the reign coffin was observed, supposed to be his, of Charles II., while some alterations were upon the vault being opened in the year making near the White Tower, the work- 1813. It measured nearly seven feet in men found, about ten feet in the ground, length, and appeared to have been beaten the remains of two striplings, which, on in by violence about the middle, as there examination, appeared to be those of two was a considerable opening in that part of boys of the ages of the princes, thirteen it, exposing a mere skeleton of the inmate. and eleven years. They were in a wooden Some beard remained upon the chin, but chest, and were reïnterred in a marble there was nothing to discriminate the perurn in Henry VII.'s Chapel, Westminster son, and no exterior inscription. The Abbey. A Latin inscription gives the four next sovereigns-Edward VI., who commonly received account of the sad died at Greenwich Palace, Mary at St. tragedy: “ Here lie the relics of Edward V., James's, Elizabeth at Richmond, and King of England, and Richard, Duke of James I. at Theobalds in Herts—were all York, who, being confined in the Tower, committed to the earth in Westminster and there stifled with pillows, were pri- Abbey. A stately monument marks the Fately and meanly buried, by order of grave of Elizabeth, the last of our mon

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