crated a battle ship, in memory of his wounds and his gallantry.

Not such would have been the reception of Robert Raikes, in the land of the Pilgrims and of Penn, of the Catholic, the Cavalier, and the Huguenot. And who does not rejoice that it would be impossible thus to welcome this primitive Christian, the founder of Sunday schools? His heralds would be the preachers of the Gospel, and the eminent in piety, benevolence, and zeal. His procession would number in its ranks the messengers of the Cross and the disciples of the Savior, Sunday-school teachers and white-robed scholars. The temples of the Most High would be the scenes of his triumph. Homage and gratitude to him, would be anthems of praise and thanksgiving to God.

Parents would honor him as more than a brother; children would reverence him as more than a father. The faltering words of age, the firm and sober voice of manhood, the silvery notes of youth, would bless him as a Christian patron. The wise and the good would acknowledge him everywhere as a national benefactor, as a patriot even to a land of strangers. He would have come a messenger of peace to a land of peace. No images of camps, and sieges, and battles; no agonies of the dying and the wounded; no shouts of victory, or processions of triumph, would mingle with the recollections of the multitude who welcomed him. They would mourn over no common dan · gers, trials, and calamities; for the road of duty has been to them the path of pleasantness, the way of peace. Their memory of the past would be rich in gratitude to God, and love to man; their enjoyment of the present would be a prelude to heavenly bliss; their prospects of the future, bright and glorious as faith and hope. ** *

Such was the reception of Lafayette, the warrior; such would be that of Robert Raikes, the Howard of the Christian church. And which is the nobler benefactor,

patriot, and philanthropist? Mankind may admire and extol Lafayette more than the founder of the Sunday schools; but religion, philanthropy, and enlightened common sense must ever esteem Robert Raikes the superior of Lafayette. His are the virtues, the services, the sacrifices of a more enduring and exalted order of being. His counsels and triumphs belong less to time than to eternity.

The fame of Lafayette is of this world; the glory of Robert Raikes is of the Redeemer's everlasting kingdom. Lafayette lived chiefly for his own age, and chiefly for his and our country; but Robert Raikes has lived for all ages and all countries. Perhaps the historian and biographer may never interweave his name in the tapestry of national or individual renown. But the records of every single church honor him as a patron; the records of the universal Church, on earth as in heaven, bless him as a benefactor.

The time may come when the name of Lafayette will be forgotten; or when the star of his fame, no longer glittering in the zenith, shall be seen, pale and glimmering, on the verge of the horizon. But the name of Robert Raikes shall never be forgotten; and the lambent flame of his glory is that eternal fire which rushed down from heaven to devour the sacrifice of Elijah. Let mortals then admire and imitate Lafayette more than Robert Raikes. But the just made perfect, and the ministering spirits around the throne of God, have welcomed him as a fellowservant of the same Lord; as a fellow-laborer in the same glorious cause of man's redemption; as a coheir of the same precious promises and eternal rewards.

NOTES.-Armada, the great fleet sent out in 1588, by Philip II. of Spain, for the conquest of England, was defeated in the Channel by the English and Dutch fleets. After the victory, Queen Elizabeth made a triumphal journey through the kingdom.

Francis I. (b. 1494, d. 1547), King of France, was taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia, and confined at Madrid, Spain, nearly a year.

Austerlitz.-See Note on p. 150.

Lafayette (b. 1757, d. 1834), a French marquis, who served as major general in the Revolutionary War in America, which terminated in 1783. Lafayette revisited this country in 1824, and was received throughout the land with the greatest enthusiasm.

Robert Raikes (b. 1735, d. 1811), an English printer and philanthropist, noted as the founder of Sunday schools.

Howard, John (b. 1726, d. 1790), a celebrated English philanthropist, who spent much of his life in the endeavor to reform the condition of prisons in Europe.

XXXIX. FALL OF CARDINAL WOLSEY.

Wolsey. FAREWELL! a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honors thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And, when he thinks, good, easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little, wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory,
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
At length broke under me, and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy

Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me.

world, I hate ye: Oh, how wretched

Vain pomp and glory of this
I feel my heart new open'd.
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,

That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,

More pangs and fears than wars or women have:
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,

Crom.

Wol.

At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder,
A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
I am fall'n indeed.

How does your grace?

Why, well;

Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me,
I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,
These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would sink a navy, too much honor:

Oh, 't is a burthen, Cromwell, 't is a burthen,

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!

Crom. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have: I am able now, methinks,

Crom.

Wol.

Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,

To endure more miseries, and greater far,
Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad?

Is your displeasure with the king.

The heaviest, and the worst,

God bless him!

Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen
Lord chancellor in your place.

Wol.

Crom.

That's somewhat sudden:
But he's a learned man. May he continue
Long in his highness' favor, and do justice
For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings,
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em!
What more?

That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
Install❜d lord archbishop of Canterbury.

Wol. That's news indeed!

Crom.

Last, that the Lady Anne,

Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
This day was viewed in open as his queen,
Going to chapel; and the voice is now

Only about her coronation.

Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down. O
Cromwell,

The king has gone beyond me: all my glories

In that one woman I have lost forever:

No sun shall ever usher forth mine honors,

Or gild again the noble troops that waited
Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;
I am a poor, fall'n man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master: seek the king;

That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
What and how true thou art: he will advance thee;
Some little memory of me will stir him-

I know his noble nature-not to let

Thy hopeful service perish, too: good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thine own future safety.