the country, which isolated it from other states as soon as the enemies of reform were vanquished, the army passed from the field of battle to the government. Its intervention being premature, Cromwell, its general, found parties still in the fury of their passions, in all the fanaticism of their opinions, and he directed against them alone his military administration. The French Revolution, taking 16 place on the continent, saw the nations disposed for liberty, and sovereigns leagued from a fear of the liberation of their people. It had not only internal enemies, but also foreign enemies to contend with; and while its armies were repelling Europe, parties were overthrowing each other in the assemblies. The military intervention came later; Napoleon, finding factions defeated and opinions almost forsaken, obtained obedience easily from the nation, and turned the military government against Europe.

This difference of position materially influenced the conduct and character of these two extraordinary men. Napoleon, disposing of immense force and of uncontested power, gave himself up in security to the vast designs and the part of a conqueror, while Cromwell, deprived of the assent which popular exhaustion accords, incessantly attacked by factions, was reduced to neutralize them one by the other; and to the last, the military dictator of parties. The one employed his genius in undertaking; the other in resisting. Accordingly, the former had the 17 frankness and decision of power; the other, the craft and hypocrisy of opposed ambition. This situation would destroy their sway. All dictatorships are transient; and, however strong or great, it is impossible for any one long to subject parties or long to retain kingdoms. It is this that, sooner or later, would have led to the fall of Cromwell (had he lived longer) by internal conspiracies; and

that brought on the downfall of Napoleon, by the raising 18 of Europe. Such is the fate of all powers which, arising

from liberty, do not continue to abide with her. In 1814 the empire had just been destroyed; the revolutionary parties had ceased to exist since the 18th Brumaire. All the governments of this political period had been exhausted. The senate recalled the old royal family. Already unpopular on account of its past servility, it ruined itself in public opinion by publishing a constitution, tolerably liberal, but which placed on the same footing the pensions of the senators and the guarantees of the nation. The Count d'Artois, who had been the first to leave

France, was the first to return, in the character of lieu19 tenant-general of the kingdom. He signed, on the 23d

of April, the convention of Paris, which reduced the French territory to its limits of the 1st of January, 1792, and by which Belgium, Savoy, Nice, and Geneva, and immense military stores, ceased to belong to us. Louis XVIII landed at Calais on the 24th of April, and entered Paris with solemnity on the 3d of May, 1814, after having, on the 2d, made the Declaration de Saint Omer, which fixed the principles of the representative government, and which was followed on the 2d of June by the pro

mulgation of the charter. 20 At this epoch a new series of events begins. The

year 1814 was the term of the great movement of the preceding five-and-twenty years. The Revolution had been political, as directed against the absolute power of the court and the privileged classes, and military because Europe had attacked it. The reaction which arose that time only destroyed the empire, and brought about the coalition in Europe, and the representative system in France; such was to be its first period. Later, it opposed the Revolution, and produced the holy alliance against

the people and the government of a party against the charter. This retrograde movement necessarily had its course and limits. France can only be ruled in a durable manner by satisfying the twofold need which made it undertake the Revolution. It requires real political liberty in the government; and in society, the material prosperity produced by the continually progressing development of civilization.



This brilliant and pathetic description is from the first volume of Macaulay's “England." The Duke of Monmouth was probably the son of Charles II, who seems to bave regarded him withi as much affection as he was capable of bestowing upon any human being. Upon the accession of James II to the English throne in 1685, Monmouth, then in exile in the Netherlands, was prevailed upon to conduct a rebellion against the government, with a view to dethroning James II and obtaining the crown for himself. The details of that disastrous attempt, the capture of Monmouth, his interview with the king, his execution on Tower Hill, are all narrated with that graphic minuteness of which Macaulay is so great a master. The specific purpose of this extract is to direct the attention of the student to the historical interest, so manifold and so inexhaustible, that concentrates around the famous Tower of London. Historic buildings, Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's Cathedral, the Tower, have an individuality, a strongly defined character that invest them with an irresistible charm to the student of history. As far back as the Roman occupation of London there was a fortification on the site of the Tower. The present structure dates its beginning from the reign of William the Conqueror, who erected the White Tower A. D. 1078 to overawe the Londoners and deter them from insurrection. The “little cemetery,” to which Macaulay re

fers, is the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula, erected by Edward I on the site of an ancient church, rebuilt by Edward III, altered by Henry VIII, and “restored ” about seven years ago (1877). It is at the northwest corner of the Tower. There is, indeed, “no sadder spot” in all the earth. Standing before the chancel, under which rest so many illustrious victims of Tudor and Stuart tyranny, the grim reality of history rises up with an almost overpowering clearness and force. In connection with the subject of historic buildings, I would suggest to the student the eminent propriety and advantage of acquainting himself with the different epochs of architectural growth, and the distinctive characteristics of each epoch. The growth of art is an essential element in the historic development of nations, and there is no study intrinsically more fascinating, to say nothing of its practical utility. Let the student consult upon the subject of art Sir James Ferguson's “ History of Architecture,” Freeman's “Norman Conquest,” vol. v, chapter on “ The Influence of the Conquest upon Art in England,” Freeman's “ Lectures on Architecture,

,"Encyclopædia Britannica,” ninth edition, article on “ Art,” Milman's "Latin Christianity.” On historic buildings, especially those in London, Baedeker’s “ London and its Environs,” Loftie's “History of London,” Freeman's “Norman Conquest,” vols. ii and iii, Dean Stanley's “Memorials of Westminster Abbey,” revised edition.

1 In the mean time, many handkerchiefs had been dipped in the duke's blood, for by a large part of the multitude he was regarded as a martyr who had died for the Protestant religion. The head and body were placed in a coffin covered with black velvet, and were laid privately under the communion-table of St. Peter's Chapel in the Tower. Within four years the pavement of that chancel was again disturbed, and hard by the remains of 2 Monmouth were laid the remains of Jeffreys. In truth, there is no sadder spot on the earth than that little cemetery. Death is there associated, not, as in Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's, with genius and virtue, with public veneration and imperishable renown—not, as in our humblest churches and churchyards, with everything that

[ocr errors]

is most endearing in social and domestic charities, but with whatever is darkest in human nature and in human destiny, with the savage triumph of implacable enemies, with the inconstancy, the ingratitude, the cowardice of friends, with all the miseries of fallen greatness and of blighted fame. Thither bave been carried, through suc-3 cessive ages, by the rude hands of jailers, without one mourner following, the bleeding relics of men who had been the captains of armies, the leaders of parties, the oracles of senates, and the ornaments of courts. Thither was borne, before the window where Jane Grey was praying, the mangled corpse of Guilford Dudley. Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset and Protector of the Realm, reposes there by the brother whom he murdered. There are laid John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, Lord High Admiral, and Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, Lord High Treasurer. There, too, is another 4 Essex, on whom nature and fortune had lavished all their bounties in vain, and whom valor, grace, genius, royal favor, popular applause, conducted to an early and ignominious doom. Not far off sleep two chiefs of the great house of Howard—Thomas, fourth Duke of Norfolk, and Philip, eleventh Earl of Arundel. Here and there, 5 among the thick graves of unquiet and aspiring statesmen, lie more delicate sufferers-Margaret of Salisbury, the last of the proud name of Plantagenet, and those two fair queens who perished by the jealous rage of Henry. Such was the dust with which the dust of Monmouth mingled.

« ElőzőTovább »