he had every thing to dread, began to meditate upon measures which would most effectually remove his future apprehensions. No other expedient suggested itself, but what is foremost in the imagination of tyrants, namely, the young prince's death. How this brave youth was dispatched is not well known; certain it is, that from the moment of his confinement he was never heard of more. The most probable account of this horrid transaction is as follows. The king having first proposed to one of his servants, William de la Braye, to dispatch Arthur, this brave domestic replied, that he was a gentleman and not an executioner. This officer having positively refused to comply, John had recourse to another instrument, who went with proper directions, to the castle where Arthur was confined to destroy him. But still this prince's fate seemed suspended; for Hubert de Bourg; chamberlain to the king, and constable of the place, willing to save him, undertook the cruel office himself, and sent back the assassin to his employer. However, he was soon obliged to confess the imposture; for Arthur's subjects vowing the severest revenge, Hubert, to appease them, revealed the secret of his pretended death, and assured them, that their prince was still alive, and in his custody. John now finding that all his emissaries had still more compunction than himself, resolved, with his own hands to execute this bloody deed; and for that purpose had Arthur removed to the castle of Rouen, situated on the river Seine. It was at midnight when John came in a boat, to the place, and ordered the young prince to be brought before him. Long confinement, solitude, and the continuance of bad fortune, had now broken the generous youth's spirit; and perceiving that his death was meditated, he threw himself in the most imploring manner upon his knees before his uncle, and begged

for mercy. John was too much hardened in the school of tyranny, to feel any pity for his wretched suppliant. His youth, his affinity, his merits, were all disregarded, or were even obnoxious in a rival. The barbarous tyrant making no reply, stabbed him with his own hands; and fastening a stone to the dead body, threw it into the Seine. This inhuman action thus rid John of an hated rival; but happily, for the instruction of future princes, it opened the way to his future ruin. Having in this manner shewn himself, the enemy. of mankind, in the prosperity of his reign, the whole world seemed to turn their back upon him in his distress.

John was now detested by all mankind, and the rest of his reign he only supported himself in power, by making it the interest of some to protect him, and letting others feel the effects of his resentment, if they offered to offend. The loss of all his French provinces immediately followed his last transgression. Not but that he attempted a defence; and even laid siege to Alencon, one of the towns that had revolted from him. But Philip, his active rival, pursuaded a body of knights, who were assembled at a tournament, to take his part; and these readily joining against the parricide, quickly obliged him to raise the siege. John, therefore, repulsed, and stript of his dominions, was obliged to bear the insult with patience; though, indeed, such was the ridiculous absurdity of his pride, that he assured those about him of his being able to take back in a day, what cost the French years in acquiring.

A. D.

1205.

Normandy soon followed the fate of the French provinces, Chateau Gaillard, one of the strongest fortresses being taken after an obstinate siege, the whole duchy lay open to the invader; and while John basely sought safety by flying into England, Philip, secure of his prey,

pushed his conquests with vigour. The whole duchy submitted to his authority; and thus after being for near three centuries dismembered from the French monarchy, was again reunited.

John being thus stript of all his continental dominions, was resolved to wreak his vengeance on that part of the monarchy which still acknowledged subjection. Upon his arrival therefore in Eugland, he began to lay the blame of his ill success upon his barons, who he pretended had deserted his standard in Normandy. To punish them for this imputed offence, he levied large sums upon their estates and effects, under colour of preparations for a Norman expedition; which, however, he defered till the next year. When the season came for making it, he summoned all his barons to attend him; and then capriciously deferred the execution of his projects to another opportunity. The year following he put to sea, as if with a firm resolution to do wonders; but returned soon after, without making the smallest attempt. Another year elapsed, when he promised that he would then redeem his country's reputation by a more signal blow. He set sail, landed at Rochelle, marched to Angers, laid the city in ashes; and hearing that the enemy were preparing to oppose him, he reimbarked his troops and returned once more to his indignant country, loaded with shame and confusion.

Hitherto John was rather hateful to his subjects than contemptible; they rather dreaded than despised him. But he soon shewed that he might be offended, if not without resentment at least with impunity. It was the fate of this vicious prince to make those the enemies of himself whom he wanted abilities to make the enemies of each other. The clergy had for some time acted as a community independent of the crown, and had their elections. of each other generally confirmed by the pope, to

whom alone they owed subjection. However, the. election of archbishops had for some time been a continual subject of dispute between the suffragan bishops, and the Augustine monks, and both had precedents to confirm their pretensions. Things being in this situation, Hubert, the archbishop of Canterbury died; and the Augustine Monks, in a very private manner, made choice of Reginald, their sub-prior. The bishops exclaimed at this election, as a manifest invasion of their privileges; and a furious theological contest was likely to ensue. A politic prince would have seized such a conjuncture with joy; and would have managed the quarrel in such a manner as to enfeeble the exorbitant power of the clergy, by enflaming their mutual animosity. But John was not a politic prince. He immediately sided with the suffragan bishops; and John de Gray, bishop of Norwich, was unanimously chosen, To decide the mutual claim of both parties, it was expedient to appeal to the see of Rome; an agent was sent by the bishops so maintain their cause, while the monks dispatched twelve of their order to support their pretensions. Innocent III. who then filled the chair, possessed an unbounded share of power, and his talents were equal to the veneration in which he was held. seized with avidity that conjuncture which John failed to use; and vacating the claim of both parties, as uncanonical and illegal, he enjoined the monks to choose Cardinal Stephen Langton, an Englishman, then at the court of Rome, as a fit person to fill the vacant dignity.

He

This was an encroachment of power that the see of Rome had long been aiming at, and that it was now resolved to maintain. The being able to nominate to the greatest dignity in the kingdom, next that of the king, was an acquisition that would effectually give the court of Rome an authority,

which it had hitherto vainly pretended to assume. So great an insult was to be introduced to this weak prince with persuasions adapted to his capacity; and the pope accordingly sent him a most affecttionate letter, with a present of four gold rings, set with precious stones. He begged John to consider seriously the form of the rings, their number, their matter, and their colour. Their form being round, shadoweth out eternity, for which it was his duty to prepare. The number four, denoted the four cardinal virtues, which it was his duty to practise, Their matter being gold, the most precious of metals, denoted wisdom, the most precious of accomplishments, which it was his duty to acquire, and as to their colour, the green colour of the emerald represented faith; the yellow of the sapphire, hope; the redness of the ruby, charity; and the splendor of the topaz, good works. John received the rings, thought all the pope's illustrations very beautiful; but was resolved not to admit Stephen Langton as archbishop of Canterbury.

As all John's measures were conducted with violence, he sent two knights of his train, who were fit instruments for such a prince, to expel the monks from their convent, and to take possession of their revenues. The pope was not displeased at this instance of his impetuosity; he was sensible that John would sink in the contest, and therefore persevered the more vigorously in his pretensions. He began his attempts to carry his measures by soothing, imploring and urging; he proceeded to threats, and at last sent three English prelates to the king to inform him, that if he persevered in his disobedience, he would put the kingdom under the sentence of an interdict. All the other prelates threw themselves on their knees before the king; entreated him in the most earnest manner not to bring upon them the resentment of the holy tribunal; exhorted him to VOL. I. K