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CXCVIII. - CARDINAL WOLSEY AND CROMWELL.*

Wolsey. FAREWELL, a long farewell to all my greatness!
This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope, 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 prido
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.
Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye!
I feel my heart new opened; O, how wretched
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,

Never to hope again.

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Cromwell. I have no power to speak, sir.

Wol. What! amazed

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

Crom. How does your grace?

Wol. 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 ruined pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would sink a navy · too much honor:

O, 't is a burden, Cromwell, 't is a burden,

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 alle now, methinks

Thomas Cromwell, a statesman of the time of Henry the Eighth of England.

Shakspeare often puts the accent in aspect on the last syllable.
An, by the old writers, is often used for if.

(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?

Crom.

The heaviest and the worst

Is your displeasure with the king.
Wol. God bless him!

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

Wol. 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?

Crom. That Cranmer is returned with welcome,
Installed 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 pulled 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 fallen 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,

For thine own future safety.

Crom. O, my lord,

and provide

Must I, then, leave you? Must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?

Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king shall have my service; but my prayers
Forever, and forever, shall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me
Out of thy honest truth to play the woman.

Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,-

And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me must more be heard of, - say, I taught thee;
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor,
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruined me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition;
By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by 't?
Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee,
Corruption wins not more than honesty ;

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not:

Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,

Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O, Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king:

And, Prithee, lead me in:

There take an in'ventory of all I have,

To the last penny; 't is the king's: my robe,

And my integrity to Heaven, is all

I dare now call mine own. O, Cromwell, Cromwell,

Had I but served my God with half the zeal

I served my king, He would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies!

Crom. Good sir, have patience.

Wol. So I have. Farewell

The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.

SHAKSPEARE.

CXCIX.

THE TREASURES BY THE WAYSIDE.

1. THE sky was dull, the scene was wild,
I wandered up the mountain way;
And with me went a joyous child,

The man in thought, the child at play.
My heart was sad with many a grief;
Mine eyes with former tears were dim;
The child! -a stone, a flower, a leaf,
Had each its fairy wealth for him!
From time to time, unto my side

He bounded back to show the treasure;

I was not hard enough to chide,

Nor wise enough to share, his pleasure.

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Aroused with pain, my listless eyes
The various spoil scarce wander o'er
Then straight they hail a sage's prize
In what seemed infant toys before:
This herb was one the glorious Swede
Had given a garden's wealth to find ;
That stone had hardened round a weed
The earliest deluge left behind.

3. Fit stores for science Discontent

Had passed unheeding on the wild;
And Nature had her wonders lent
As things of gladness to the child!
Thus, through the present, Sorrow goes,
And sees its barren self alone;
While healing in the leaflet grows,

And Time blooms back within the stone.
O, Thou, so prodigal of good,

Whose wisdom with delight is clad,
How clear should be to Gratitude

The golden duty — to be glad!

SIR E. BULWER LYTTON

CC.

· PECULIARITY OF AMERICAN LIBERTY.

1. THIS inheritance which we enjoy to-day is not only an inheritance of liberty, but of our own peculiar American liberty. Liberty has existed in other times, in other countries, and in other forms. There has been a Grecian liberty, bold and powerful, full of spirit, eloquence, and fire; a liberty which produced multitudes of great men, and has transmitted one immortal name, the name of Demosthenes, to posterity. But still it was a liberty of disconnected states, sometimes united, indeed, by temporary leagues and confederacies, but often involved in wars between themselves. The sword of Sparta turned its sharpest edge against Athens, enslaved her and devastated Greece; and, in her turn, Sparta was compelled to bend before the power of Thebes. And let it ever be remembered especially let the truth sink deep into all American minds- that it was the want of union among her several states which finally gave the mastery of all Greece to Philip of Mac'edon.

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2. And there has also been a Roman liberty, a proud, ambitious, domineering spirit, professing free and popular principles in Rome itself; but, even in the best days of the republic, ready

* See Linnæus, in Explanatory Index

to carry slavery and chains into her provinces, and through every country over which her eagles could be borne. What was the liberty of Spain, or Gaul, or Germany, or Britain, in the days of Rome? Did true constitutional liberty then exist? As the Roman empire declined, her provinces, not instructed in the principles of free, popular government, one after another declined also; and, when Rome herself fell in the end, all fell together.

3. I have said that our inheritance is an inheritance of American liberty. That liberty is characteristic, peculiar, and alto gether our own. Nothing like it existed in former times, nor was known in the most enlightened states of antiquity; while with us its principles have become interwoven into the minds of individual men, connected with our daily opinions and our daily habits, until it is, if I may so say, an element of social as well as of political life; and the consequence is, that to whatever region an American citizen carries himself, he takes with him, fully developed in his own understanding and experience, our American principles and opinions; and becomes ready at once, in coöperation with others, to apply them to the formation of new govern

ments.

4. What has Germany done, learned Germany, fuller of ancient lore than all the world besides? What has Italy done? What have they done who dwell on the spot where Cicero lived? They have not the power of self-government which a common town-meeting with us possesses. Yes, I say that those persons who have gone from our town-meetings to dig gold in California are more fit to make a republican government than any body of men in Germany or Italy, because they have learned this one great lesson that there is no security without law, and that, under the circumstances in which they are placed, where there is no military authority to cut their throats, there is no sovereign will but the will of the majority; that, therefore, if they remain, they must submit to that will. And this I believe to be strictly

true.

WEBSTER.

OCI. THE SOULS OF BOOKS.

1. SIT here and muse!-it is an antique room,
High-roofed, with casements through whose purple pane
Unwilling daylight steals amidst the gloom,

Shy as a fearful stranger. There they reign
(In loftier pomp than waking life had known),

The Kings of Thought! - not crowned until the grave. —

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