The volumes on “English History” brought out in Dr. Lardner’s “Encyclopædia,” the “Life of Sir Thomas More,” which appeared in the same publication, a “Treatise on Ethical Philosophy,” and a commencement of the “History of the Revolution of 1688,” delivered to the world after his death, are these works.

They all exhibit the author’s defects and merits; third-rate in themselves, and yet at various times persuading us that he who wrote them was a first-rate man. Let us take up, for instance, the volumes on “English History.” The narrative is languid, and interrupted by disquisitions: the style is in general prolix, cumbrous, cold, profuse; nevertheless, these volumes are full of thought and knowledge; they contain many curious anecdotes, many scattered observations of profound wisdom, while here and there burst upon us, by surprise it must be confessed, passages which, written under a temporary excitement, display remarkable spirit and power. Such is the description of Becket’s murder:

II.

“Provoked by these acts of extraordinary imprudence, Henry is said to have called out before an audience of lords, knights, and gentlemen, ‘To what a miserable state am I reduced, when I cannot be at rest in my own realm, by reason of only one priest; is there no one to deliver me from my troubles?’ Four knights of distinguished rank, William de Tracy, Hugh de Moreville, Richard Briths, and Reginald Fitz-Urse (December 28), interpreted the King’s complaints as commands. They repaired to Canterbury, confirmed in their purpose by finding that Becket had recommenced his excommunications by that of Robert de Broe, and that he had altered his course homeward to avoid the royalist bishops on their way to court, in Normandy; they instantly went to his house, and required him, not very mildly, to withdraw the censures of the prelates, and take the oath to his lord-paramount. He refused. John of Salisbury, his faithful and learned secretary, ventured at this alarming moment to counsel peace. The primate thought that nothing was left to him but a becoming death.

“The knights retired to put on their armour, and there seems to have been sufficient interval either for negotiation or escape. At that moment, indeed, measures were preparing for legal proceedings against him.

“But the visible approach of peril awakened his sense of dignity, and breathed an unusual decorum over his language and deportment. He went through the cloisters into the church, whither he was followed by his enemies, attended by a band of soldiers, whom they had hastily gathered together. They rushed into the church with drawn swords. Tracy cried out, ‘Where is the traitor? Where is the archbishop?’ Becket, who stood before the altar of St. Bennet, answered gravely, ‘Here am I, no traitor, but the archbishop.’ Tracy pulled him by the sleeve, saying: ‘Come hither, thou art a prisoner.’ He pulled back his arm with such force as to make Tracy stagger, and said: ‘What meaneth this, William? I have done thee many pleasures; comest thou with armed men into my church?’ ‘It is not possible that thou shouldst live any longer,’ called out Fitz-Urse. The intrepid primate replied: ‘I am ready to die for my God, in defence of the liberties of the Church.’

“At that moment, either by a relapse into his old disorders, or to show that his non-resistance sprung not from weakness, but from duty, he took hold of Tracy by the habergeon, or gorget, and flung him with such violence as had nearly thrown him to the ground. He then bowed his head, as if he would pray, and uttered his last words: ‘To God and St. Mary I commend my soul, and the cause of the Church!’ Tracy aimed a heavy blow at him, which fell on a bystander. The assassins fell on him with many strokes, and though the second brought him to the ground, they did not cease till his brains were scattered over the pavement.”[96]

III.

The characters of Alfred, of William I., of Henry VII., are superior to any sketches of the same persons with which I am acquainted. The summing up of events into pictures of certain epochs is frequently done with much skill, and I particularly remember a short description of the commencement of the Crusades, concluding with the capture of Jerusalem;—the state of Europe in the thirteenth century, comprising a large portion of history in two pages; and the death of Simon de Montfort, with the establishment of the English Constitution. In a true spirit of historical philosophy, Sir James Mackintosh says:

“The introduction of knights, citizens, and burgesses into the Legislature, by its continuance in circumstances so apparently inauspicious, showed how exactly it suited the necessities and demands of society at that moment. No sooner had events brought forward the measure, than its fitness to the state of the community became apparent. It is often thus that in the clamours of men for a succession of objects, society selects from among them the one that has an affinity with itself, and which most easily combines with its state at the time.”