strength. The spirit of chivalry tended in that age to soften in some degree the rigours of war, and induce a generosity of conduct towards enemies, rarely seen in modern times. This alone will account for the courtesy shewn by the king to the empress Matilda, in granting her a safe conduct from Arundel castle, where she might have been easily taken, to that of Bristol, where her chief strength lay. Indeed, such an air of romance is thrown around many of the incidents of this war, as would render them altogether incredible, were they not attested by many contemporary historians.

The balance now turned in favour of Matilda, whose party was daily strengthened by the accession of wealth and powerful barons. Stephen found himself deserted by those who might have been expected to prove his firmest adherents. Among these was his own brother, who once more found it convenient to change sides, and basely abandoned Stephen in his adversity. The unfortunate king fell into the hands of his enemies, after a brave but unsuccessful battle fought near Lincoln; and his affairs seemed to be in a desperate condition. While Stephen was proceeding as a prisoner to Gloucester castle, where he was put in irons, his time-serving brother was employed in conducting Matilda to Winchester, and depositing in her hands the crown and sceptre. Not content with swearing allegiance to her himself, he made a public oration in the cathedral of his diocese, in which he promised, in the name of the pope his master, plenary absolution to all who should submit to her authority, and threatened with excommunication all who refused that submission. After the conclusion of this harangue, Matilda was crowned with great pomp, and in the presence of many thousands of her subjects.

But the empress knew not how to improve the advantages which she had obtained. Her temper was haughty, and her conduct imperious; the direct reverse of the courteous and condescending deportment of the captive monarch. She maintained a repulsive distance towards even her best friends, and treated her enemies with disdain. Elated with success, she adopted the most impolitic measures, confiscating the property of those

earls, who still adhered to the king-revoking the grants which had been already made to the church-and haughtily rejecting the petition of the queen, who earnestly implored the liberation of her husband, on condition that he should abdicate the crown, and retire to a convent for life. The inhabitants of London had manifested: throughout a decided preference of Stephen, and were now so irritated by these proceedings, as to break out into open revolt. The tide suddenly turned once more, and Matilda was obliged to flee with precipitation, first to Oxford, and afterwards to Winchester. When besieged in that fortress, she had the misfortune to lose her brave protector, the earl of Gloucester, who was made prisoner in an unsuccessful sortie from the citadel. This valiant and generous baron was felt to be so essen-. tial to her interests, that Matilda was under the necessity, of purchasing his freedom by liberating the king from his captivity. And now both parties, being commanded by their favourite leaders, renewed the contest with in creased fury, but without any decided advantage on either side. Year after year rolled heavily along, during which the provinces of England were plundered and desolated, enduring all the complicated miseries of war, and civil discord.

But

Matilda became at length so weary of a contest which seemed to be interminable, as to resolve on quitting the scene of action, and returning to the continent. her place was quickly filled up, and with far greater, success, by prince Henry her son, then a youth of sixteen years of age, who had lately received the honour of knighthood from the king of Scotland, and was impatient to rival the fame of his forefathers by conquering a kingdom for himself. This young prince early discovered talents of the highest order, and inspired hopes, which afterwards were fully realized. A variety of fortunate circumstances concurred to prepare the way for his future success. His father's death gave him the earldoms of Anjou, Tour, and Maine; the death of Eustace, the son of king Stephen, who had held the dukedom of Normandy, put him in possession of that important province; and his subsequent marriage to Eleanor, the

divorced queen of Lewis VIIth, brought him the wealthy provinces of Guienne and Poictou. Strengthened by these continental resources and territories, he was able to attempt with vigour the execution of an enterprise which had been unwillingly delayed. No sooner did he land in England, than numerous partisans flocked to his standard, and every thing indicated the approach of another change in the succession. The barons, however, of Stephen's party, had the address to ward off the blow by negotiating a treaty, in which it was stipulated, that Stephen should possess the crown during his life, but that Henry should be his acknowledged heir. As a pledge of the faithful execution of this treaty, it was agreed that "the strongest castles in the kingdom should be placed in the hands of Henry's friends, and those which had been built since Stephen's accession utterly razed."

All the barons and clergy now proceeded to swear allegiance to the young prince, and bound themselves to the observance of this treaty. It is, however, scarcely probable, that the arrangement thus concluded would have been permanent, unless death had sealed the contract. Within a short period from the conclusion of this treaty, the king was seized with a disease, which proved mortal. He died at Dover, October 25th, 1154, in the fiftieth year of his age, after an unsettled and tempestuous reign of nineteen years.

W. Malmsb.

Orderic. Vital, Hen. Hunt, Gest. Steph, Hoveden. Ailred. Mat. Paris, &c,

REFLECTIONS.

There is no more decided proof of an utter want of religious principle, than wilful and deliberate perjury. Yet how fearfully prevalent was this vice at the period to which the preceding essay refers! It seems to have pervaded all ranks of society, and to have disgraced equally the civil and ecclesiastical orders. It may be confidently inferred from this melancholy fact, that re

ligion was, at that period, in a state of universal decay, if not entirely abandoned. There might indeed be great zeal for ceremonies and dogmas-the rights and privileges of the church, (if so corrupt and secularized a hierarchy may be so designated,) might be strenuously defended-but there could be no regard to truth, no fear of God, no love of holiness, no solicitude to "maintain a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man." It should not be forgotten that these are among the characteristics of a good man, as described by the Spirit of Truth: "he feareth an oath," and fails not to perform his vows; but that, among the catalogue of sinners, who will be excluded from the kingdom of heaven, are to be found, "covenant-breakers, and perjured persons.'

But the guilt of this conduct belongs not to the perjured alone; it attaches in part also to those, who, on ordinary or slight occasions impose such asseverations on others. It is both impolitic and profane to multiply religious tests of this nature. There may be solemn and interesting occasions, in which an appeal may be made with the utmost propriety to the great Searcher of hearts but to make this sacred act of religious obligation a mere tool of ambition, to resort to it on every civil or political question, is a species of profaneness attended with no ordinary degree of guilt: and one, alas! which must still be numbered amongst our national crimes.

The same page of history which records these infamous examples of perjury, records also their signal punishment. Scarcely could the usurper himself, who had climbed to the throne over broken vows and violated oaths, or the barons, who aided him in this most unjust attempt, fail to perceive, in the calamities of this reign, the execution of divine vengeance against covenant-breakers. When the monarch found himself deserted by his friends, the prey of his political rival, immured in a dungeon, and loaded with irons; he could scarcely fail to reflect, that a tremendous curse is denounced by the Righteous Judge, against those who aggrandize themselves by violence and fraud, rather than

surely have been admonished that a crooked policy is always dangerous, and has not unfrequently proved ruinous to those who practise it. Nor should the valuable lesson be lost to posterity, which so distinctly proclaims, that "he who walketh uprightly, walketh surely, but the expectation of the wicked shall be cut off."

What confidence could be reposed in the professions and promises of one who had acted so treacherous a part! We cannot wonder that the measure which he had meted to the lawful successors of his sovereign, should be measured to him again-that he was deserted in the day of his adversity by those on whom he most relied→ that no confidence was placed in his charters, however solemnly ratified and confirmed-and that the first favourable opportunity was embraced by his partisans of violating the oath of allegiance which they had taken. He that is himself unfaithful in his dealings, has no right to expect the fidelity of others; nor can the individual, who acts an unprincipled and dishonest part, anticipate the exercise of integrity and uprightness from those by whom he is surrounded. "The righteousness of the upright shall deliver him, but the wicked is snared in the work of his own hands."

ESSAY VI.

General View of the State of Society, Religion, and Literature in England, from the Norman Conquest to the Death of STEPHEN.

THE last ray of civil liberty was extinguished in England by the Norman conquest, in consequence of the introduction and establishment of the feudal system*:

As the juvenile readers of this work may be unacquainted with the leading features of this system, which prevailed so long