tween the two roses, is made much more interesting by Lin-gard's mode of dealing with it.

"The earl of Northumberland was instantly dispatched at the head of four hundred men at arms and a thousand archers, with instructions *not to display his force, lest the king should put to sea, but by artful speeches and promises to draw him out of the fortress, and then make him prisoner. The earl took possession in his journey of the castles of Flint, and Rhuddlan and a few miles beyond the latter, placing his men in concealment under a rock, rode forwards with only five attendants to Conway. He was readily admitted: and to the king's anxious inquiries about his brothers replied, that he had left them well at Chester, and had brought a letter from the duke of Exeter. In it that nobleman said, or rather was made to say, that full credit might be given to the offers of the bearer. These offers were: that Richard should promise to govern and judge his people by law: that the dukes of Exeter and Surrey, the earl of Salisbury, and the bishop of Carlisle, should submit to a trial in parliament, on the charge of having advised the assassination of Gloucester: that Henry should be made grand justiciary of the kingdom, as his ancestors had been for one hundred years: and that, on the concession, of these terms, the duke should come to Flint, ask the king's pardon on his knees, and accompany or follow him to London. Richard consulted his friends apart. He expressed his approbation of the articles: but bade them secretly be assured, that no consideration should induce him to abandon them on their trial; and that he would grasp the first opportunity of being revenged on his and their enemies. The bishop proposed that Northumberland should be sworn to the observance of the conditions. Mass was accordingly performed: the earl took his oath on the host; and like Judas,' says a writer who was present, perjured himself on the body of our Lord.

"As Northumberland departed to make arrangements for the interview at Flint, the king said to him: I rely, my lord, on your faith. Remember your oath, and the God who heard it.' After dinner he followed with his friends and their servants to the number of twentytwo. They came to a steep declivity, to the left of which was the sea, and on the right a lofty rock, overhanging the road. The king mounted, and was descending on foot; when he suddenly exclaimed, 'I am betrayed. God of paradise, assist me! Do you not see banners and pennons in the valley?' Northumberland with eleven others met them at the moment, and affected to be ignorant of the circumstance. Earl of Northumberland,' said the king, if I thought you capable of betraying me, it is not too late to return. You cannot return, the earl replied, seizing the king's bridle; I have promised to conduct you to the duke of Lancaster. By this time he was joined by a hundred lances, and two hundred archers on horseback: and Richard, seeing it impossible to escape, exclaimed: May the God on whom you laid your hand, reward you and your accomplices at the last day and then turning to his friends, added: We are betrayed: but remember that our Lord was also sold, and delivered into the hands of his enemies.'

They reached Flint in the evening: and the king, as soon as he was

left with his friends, abandoned himself to the reflections which his melancholy situation inspired. He frequently upbraided himself with his past indulgence to his present opponent: Fool that I was!' he exclaimed: thrice did I save the life of this Henry of Lancaster. Once my dear uncle his father, on whom the Lord have mercy! would have put him to death for his treason and villany. God of paradise! I rode all night to save him: and his father delivered him to me, to do with him as I pleased. How true is the saying, that we have no greater enemy, than the man whom we have preserved from the gallows! Another time he drew his sword on me, in the chamber of the queen, on whom God have mercy! He was also the accomplice of the duke of Gloucester, and the earl of Arundel: he consented to my murder, to that of his father, and of all my council. By St. John, I forgave him all nor would I believe his father, who more than once pronounced him deserving of death.'

"The unfortunate king rose after a sleepless night, heard mass, and ascended the tower to watch the arrival of his opponent. At length he saw the army, amounting to eighty thousand men, winding along the beach till it reached the castle, and surrounded it from sea to sea. He shuddered and wept: but was aroused from his reflections by a summons to dinner. The earl of Salisbury, the bishop, and the two knights sir Stephen Scroop, and sir William Feriby, sate with him at the same table by his order; for since they were all companions in misfortune, he would allow no distinction among them. While he was eating, unknown persons entered the hall, insulting him with sarcasms and threats: as soon as he rose, he was summoned into the court to receive the duke of Lancaster. Henry came forward in complete armour, with the exception of his helmet. As soon as he saw the king, he bent his knee, and advancing a few paces, repeated his obeiFair cousin of Lancaster,' said Richard, uncovering himself, you are right welcome. My lord,' answered the duke, 'I am come before my time. But I will shew you the reason. Your people com plain that for the space of twenty, or two-and-twenty, years, you have ruled them rigorously: but, if it please God, I will help you to govern better. The king replied: Fair cousin, since it pleaseth you, it pleaseth me well.' Henry then addressed himself successively to the bishop and the knights, but refused to notice the earl. The king's horses were immediately ordered: and two lean and miserable animals were brought out, on which Richard and Salisbury mounted, and amidst the sound of trumpets and shouts of triumph followed the duke into Chester." (Vol. iii. p. 265-268.)

sance.

This mode of presenting an interesting event to us in all its successive steps, seems to us much more congenial to the spirit of history than the meagre hints of Mr. Hume. From such a narrative indeed we learn no political, no philosophical truth: but the imagination is awakened and gratified; we are led back into the scenes described, and feelings are excited which could never be called forth except by a full exposition of circumstances. History, we are inclined to think, has been for some

:

time too philosophical. Let the historian be philosophical, but not his history. It is a mistake to place the utility of history in the abstract truths which it expresses. Its aim is much higher, and much more difficult of attainment-to communicate that gradual, slowly acquired enlargement of view, which, except by individuals favoured by nature beyond the common lot is not to be attained otherwise than by the diligent contemplation of a great variety of scenes, characters, and transactions. History is subservient to wisdom and prudence, rather than to science. She was a muse in Greece, and we could wish her to remain so still for the drapery and graces of a divinity of Parnassus would be but ill exchanged for the solemn garb and aspect of Aristotle himself. Abstract truth is good; but there is a truth which cannot be expressed in propositions-a truth of sentiment and conception, a truth which is to be found in the impression made on the mind by particular transactions, a truth which is too evanescent to be reduced into the forms of science. Machiavel has written discourses on Livy, unfolding the lessons of political wisdom which that historian supplies. It is Machiavel's master-piece: yet he who comprehends and remembers every sentence in these discourses, will have learned but little of what Livy should teach. Machiavel distils a rich and precious wine; and by the process he obtains a spirit, which, though not without its use, is very unlike the nectar from which it has been extracted.

We cannot take leave of Mr. Lingard without mentioning the great quantity of curious and instructive matter contained in his notes. Historical criticism, anecdote, quotation, succeed each other, so as to form a most agreeable entertainment. If any object to the form of notes, on the ground that they should have been interwoven into the text, let them remember, that in that case either the continuity of the narrative must have been destroyed, or the greater part of what is contained in the notes must have been omitted.

Mr. Lingard promises to bring down the history in three other volumes to the time of the Revolution. We shall meet him again with pleasure: for we are sure, that we cannot turn over his pages without finding many new illustrations of what was known before, or clear, correct statements of what has been hitherto overlooked, or in part misrepresented. We had almost forgotten to subjoin, that his style, to the praise of correctness, adds that of elegance and ease.

ART. XIX.-Some Account of the Life of Rachael Wriothesley, Lady Russell, by the Editor of Madame du Deffand's Letters, followed by a Series of Letters from Lady Russell to her Hus band, William Lord Russell; from 1672 to 1682; together with some Miscellaneous Letters to and from Lady Russell, &c. Published from the Original, in the Possession of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire. 8vo. pp. 338. Longman. London, 1819. THE Letters of Lady Russell contained in this volume fell into the hands of her only surviving child, the Duchess of Devonshire, and have been preserved unpublished in the Cavendish family. Those who know,-and who does not know?-the already extant letters of that virtuous and magnanimous lady, will turn with no slight expectation to the volume now first submitted to public curiosity. In some respects they may be disappointed, for the present work is certainly not equal in general interest to the celebrated collection which preceded it. Still Lady Russell's letters, even when least important, are not without their charm; they admit us into the inmost recesses of a heart as pure as that of any human being is ever likely to be found; while they exhibit a tenderness and conjugal affection of the most touching kind. They are unpretending, unstudied letters, narrating the domestic or political events of the hour. The reader will easily forgive a number of trifling, and in themselves useless details, for the pleasure of being admitted into the recesses of such a mind and such a heart as that of Lady Russell.

To the letters is prefixed a memoir of the writer, in which all the particulars which could be collected, relative to her life, from public or private documents, and family traditions, are condensed into an interesting narrative. The anonymous authoress and editor has spared no pains to amass whatever could be found to illustrate the character and history of Lady Russell, and has subjoined to the letters and memoir, a variety of notices relative to the persons and occurrences mentioned in the text, which will be found of considerable service for understanding the allusions to the public and private occurrences of the times.

The remarkable incidents in the life of Lady Russell are not numerous; and the author of the narrative before us justly remarks, that her superior merits remain so much confined within the pale of private life, and female duties, that, unlike most heroines, her character deserves to be held up yet more

William Spencer Cavendish, the present Duke of Devonshire, is great-great grandson to Rachael Lady Russell.

for the example than the admiration of her country-women.' We shall lightly touch upon a few of the features of this portrait, which we particularly recommend to the study of our female readers, especially at a time when the exhibition of such a model may be considered peculiarly seasonable. Our "virtuous" as well as "fair" countrywomen will see in Lady Russell an illustrious, but imitable, specimen of what constitutes their highest happiness and praise. Privileged shall we be, if we can turn their attention from topics which have polluted not only our political circles, but even the retired sanctuaries of domestic privacy, so as to need a national lustrum to cleanse the moral atmosphere, to the edifying contemplation of the holy duties, the domestic endearments, the saintly piety, of a Rachael Russell.

Lady Rachael Wriothesley (afterwards Lady Russell) the second daughter of the Earl of Southampton, was born about the year 1636, and had the irreparable misfortune to lose her mother in her infancy.

The disturbances which began to agitate England about the same time, and in which her father was forced to take a considerable part, deprived her of many of those advantages of education which in serene, peaceable times, would doubtless have fallen to her lot. Lord Southampton, at the first period of the disputes between Charles I. and his parliaments, disapproved of the proceedings of the court, and was considered as ranking among the most popular of the peers. It was not till after he had witnessed the perversion of justice in the trial of Strafford, and the violence with which the popular tide was running against all monarchical government, that he allowed himself to become attached to the court. During the whole of the contest, he was a strenuous advocate for peace; and endeavoured, but in vain, to moderate the violence of both parties, with a view to secure that object. He was one of the four faithful servants who asked and obtained permission to pay the last sad duties to the remains of their royal master; after whose execution he retired with his family to his seat at Titchfield, in Hampshire, where he remained till the Restoration, rejecting every overture of friendship from the Usurper, who was anxious to gain him to his party.

Under such circumstances, Lady Russell passed her younger days; but though some of the usual accomplishments of her sex and station might be inadequately supplied, we have no reason to suppose that the cultivation of her mind was neglected; and perhaps, to what would be generally considered the disadvantages of her lot, we owe many of those eminent virtues which might never have ripened except in the shade of retire