to soothe him by her arts and assiduity. His favourite topic of conversation was theology; and Catharine, who was tinctured with the spirit of the times, would now and then enter into a debate with him upon many speculative tenets that were then in agitation between the Catholics and Lutherans. Henry, highly provked that she should presume to differ from him, made complaints of her obstinacy to Gardiner, who gladly laid hold of the opportunity to inflame the quarrel. Even articles of impeachment were drawn up against her, which were brought to the king by the chancellor to be signed; but, in returning home, he happened to drop the paper. It was very lucky for the queen that the person who found it was in her interest; it was immediately carried to her, and the contents soon made her sensible of the danger to which she was exposed. In this exigence, she was resolved to work upon the king; and paying him her customary visit, he led her as usual to the subject of theology, which at first she seemed to decline, but in which she afterwards engaged, as if merely to gratify his inclinations. In the course of her conversation, however, she gave him to know, that her whole aim in talking was to receive his instructions, and not to controvert them; that it was not for her to set her opinions in opposition to those which served to direct the nation; but she alleged, she could not help trying every art that could induce the king to exert that eloquence which served, for the time, to mitigate his bodily pain. Henry seemed charmed at this discovery: "And is it so, sweet heart?" cried he: "then we are perfect friends again." Just after this reconciliation, the chancellor made his appearance, with forty pursuivants at his heels, prepared to take the queen into custody. But the king advanced to meet him, and seemed to expostulate with him in the severest terms. The queen could overhear the epithets knave, fool, and beast, which he very liberally bestowed upon that magistrate, and his being ordered to depart. When he was gone, she interposed in his defence; but the king could not help saying, Poor soul! you know not how little entitled this man is to your good offices." Thenceforth the queen was careful not to offend Henry's humour by contradiction; she was contented to suffer the divines to dispute, and the executioner to destroy. The fires, accordingly, were kindled against the heretics of both sides, as usual; during which dreadful exhibitions, the king would frequently assemble the houses of parliament, and harangue them with florid orations, in which he would aver, that never prince had a greater affection for his people, nor ever people had a greater affection for their king. In every pause of these extraordinary orations, some of his creatures near his person would begin to applaud; and this was followed by loud acclamations from the rest of the audience.

But though his health was declining apace, yet his implacable cruelties were not less frequent. His resentments were diffused indiscriminately to all at one time a protestant, and at another a catholic, were the objects of his severity. The duke of Norfolk, and his son the earl of Surrey, were the last that felt the injustice of the tyrant's groundless suspicions. The duke was a nobleman who had served the king with talents and fidelity: his son was a young man of the most promising hopes, who excelled in every accomplishment that became a scholar, a courtier, and a soldier. He excelled in all the military exercises which were then in request; he encouraged the fine arts by his practice and example; and it is remarkable, that he was the first who brought our language, in his poetical pieces, to any degree of refinement. He celebrated the fair Geraldina in all his sonnets, and maintained her superior beauty in all places of public contention. These qualifications, however, were no safeguard to him against Henry's suspicions: he had dropped some expressions of resentment against the king's ministers, upon being displaced from the government of Boulogne; and the whole family had become obnoxious from the late incontinence of Catharine Howard, the queen, who was executed. From these motives, therefore, private orders were given to arrest the father and son; and accordingly they were arrested both on the same day, and confined in the Tower. Surrey being a commoner, his trial was the more expeditious; and as to proofs, there were many informers base enough to betray the intimacies of private confidence, and all the connexions of blood. The duchess dowager of Richmond, Surrey's own

sister, enlisted herself among the number of his accusers; and sir Richard Southwell also, his most intimate friend, charged him with infidelity to the king. It would seem, that at this dreary period, there was neither faith nor honour to be found in all the nation. Surrey denied the charge, and challenged his accuser to single combat. This favour was refused him; and it was alleged, that he had quartered the arms of Edward the Confessor on his escutcheon, which alone was sufficient to convict him of aspiring to the crown. To this he could make no reply: and indeed any answer would have been needless; for neither parliaments nor juries, during this reign, seemed to be guided by any other proofs than the will of the crown. This young nobleman was, therefore, condemned for high-treason, notwithstanding his eloquent and spirited defence; and the sentence was soon after executed upon him on Tower-hill. In the mean time, the duke endeavoured to mollify the king by letters and submissions; but the monster's hard heart was rarely subject to tender impressions. As soon as the parliament re-assembled, a bill of attainder was found against the duke, as it was thought he could not so easily have been convicted on a fair hearing by his peers. The only crime that his accusers could allege against him was, that he had once said that the king was sickly, and could not hold out long; and that the kingdom was likely to be torn between the contending parties of different persuasions. Cranmer, though engaged for many years in an opposite party to Norfolk, and though he had received many and great injuries from him, would have no hand in so unjust a prosecution; but retired to his seat at Croydon. However, the death-warrant was made out, and immediately sent to the lieutenant of the Tower. The duke prepared for death, as the following morning was to be his last; but an event of greater consequence to the kingdom intervened, and prevented his execution.

The king had been for some time approaching fast towards his end; and for several days all those about his person plainly saw that his speedy death was inevitable. The disorder in his leg was now grown extremely painful; and this, added to his monstrous corpulency, which rendered him unable to stir, made him more furious than a chained lion. He had ever been stern and severe; he was now outrageous. In this state he had continued for near four years before his death, the terror of all, and the tormentor of himself; his courtiers having no inclination to make an enemy of him, as they were more ardently employed in conspiring the death of each other. In this manner, therefore, he was suffered to struggle, without any of his domestics having the courage to warn him of his approaching end, as more than once, during this reign, persons had been put to death for foretelling the death of the king. At last, sir Anthony Denny had the courage to disclose to him this dreadful secret; and, contrary to his usual custom, he received the tidings with an expression of resignation. His anguish and remorse were at this time greater than can be expressed: he desired that Cranmer might be sent for; but, before that prelate could arrive, he was speechless. Cranmer desiring him to give some sign of his dying in the faith of Christ, he squeezed his hand, and immediately expired, after a reign of thirty-seven years and nine months, in the fifty-sixth year of his age. Some kings [Jan. 28, 1547. have been tyrants from contradiction and revolt, some from being misled by favourites, and some from a spirit of party: but Henry was cruel from a depraved disposition alone; cruel in government, cruel in religion, and cruel in his family. Our divines have taken some pains to vindicate the character of this brutal prince, as if his conduct and our Reformation had any connexion with each other. There is nothing so absurd as to defend the one by the other: the most noble designs are brought about by the most vicious instruments; for we see even that cruelty and injustice were thought necessary to be employed in our holy redemption.

With regard to foreign states, Henry made some expeditions into France, which were attended with vast expense to the nation, and brought it no kind of advantage. However, he all along maintained an intercourse of friendship with Francis, which appeared disinterested and sincere. Against the Scots he was rather more successful; his generals having worsted their incursive armies on several occasions, especially that signal victory of Flodden

field, in which their king, and nearly ten thousand of his army, were slain. But that which gave England the greatest ascendency over that nation, was the spirit of concord which soon after seemed to prevail between the two kingdoms, and that seemed to pave the way for their being in time united under the same sovereign. There were ten parliaments summoned in this reign, and twenty-three sessions held; but the whole time in which these parliaments sat, during this long reign, did not exceed three years and a half. The foreign commerce of England, during this age, was mostly confined to the Netherlands, The merchants of the Low Countries bought the English commodities, and distributed them into the other parts of Europe. These commodities, however, were generally little more than the natural productions of the country, without any manufactures; for it must be observed at this time, that foreign artificers much surpassed the English in dexterity, industry, and frugality; and it is said that at one time not less than fifteen thousand artisans, of the Flemish nation alone, were settled in London.

CHAP. XXV.

EDWARD VI.-A. D. 1547 to 1553.

HENRY the Eighth was succeeded on the throne by his only son, Edward the Sixth, then in the tenth year of his age. The late king in his will, which he expected would be absolutely obeyed, fixed the majority of the prince at the completion of the eighteenth year; and, in the mean time, appointed sixteen executors of his will, to whom, during the minority, he entrusted the government of the king and kingdom. But the vanity of his aims was soon discovered; for the first act of the executors was to choose the earl of Hertford, who was afterwards made duke of Somerset, as protector of the realm; and in him was lodged all the regal power, together with a privilege of naming whom he would for his privy-council.

This was a favourable season for those of the reformed religion; and the eyes of the late king were no sooner closed, than all of that persuasion congratulated themselves on the event. They no longer suppressed their sentiments, but maintained their doctrines openly, in preaching and teaching, even while the laws against them continued in full force. The protector had long been regarded as the secret partisan of the reformers; and, being now freed from restraint, he scrupled not to express his intention of correcting all the abuses of the ancient religion, and of adopting still more the doc trines propagated by Luther. His power was not a little strengthened by his military success. He wished to compel the Scots to give their young queen, (the unfortunate Mary) in marriage to Edward; but, failing in his negociation, he attacked a part of their army, and slew about eight hundred men. The popularity which he gained upon this occasion seconded his views in the propagation of the new doctrines. But the character of Somerset did not stand in need of the mean supports of popularity acquired in this manner, as he was naturally humble, civil, affable, and courteous, to the meanest suitor, while his actions were in general directed by motives of piety and honour.

The protector, in his schemes for advancing the Reformation, had always recourse to the counsels of Cranmer, who, being a man of moderation and prudence, was averse to violent changes, and determined to bring over the people by insensible innovations to his own peculiar system. The person who opposed with the greatest authority any farther advances towards reformation, was Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who, though he had not obtained a place at the council-board, yet from his age, experience, and capacity, was regarded by most men with some degree of veneration. Upon a general visitation of the church, which had been commanded by the primate and protector, Gardiner defended the use of images, which the protestants now openly attacked; he even wrote an apology for holy water; but he particularly alleged, that it was unlawful to make any change in religion during the king's minority. This opposition of Gardiner drew on him the indignation