prodigality was lavished on the decorations of
the show; many of the knights and gentlemen
being so superbly dressed that it was
said they carried their whole estates upon
their shoulders.

There were sham castles, temporary chapels,
fountains running wine, great cellars full of
wine free as water to all comers, silk tents,
gold lace and foil, gilt lions, and such things
without end; and, in the midst of all, the
rich Cardinal out-shone and out-glittered all
the noblemen and gentlemen assembled.
After a treaty made between the two Kings
with as much solemnity as if they had intended
to keep it, the lists—nine hundred
feet long, and three hundred and twenty
broad—were opened for the tournament; the
Queens of France and England looking on
with great array of lord and ladies. Then,
for ten days, the two sovereigns fought five
combats every day, and always beat their
polite adversaries—though they do write
that the King of England being thrown
in a wrestle one day by the King of France,
lost his kingly temper with his brother
in arms, and wanted to make a quarrel
of it. Then, there is a great story belonging
to this Field of the Cloth of Gold,
showing how the English were distrustful
of the French, and the French of the
English, until Francis rode alone one morning
to Henry's tent, and, going in before he was
out of bed, told him in joke that he was his
prisoner; and how Henry jumped out of bed
and embraced Francis; and how Francis
helped Henry to dress, and warmed his linen
for him; and how Henry gave Francis a
splendid jewelled collar, and how Francis
gave Henry, in return, a costly bracelet. All
this and a great deal more was so written
about, and sung about, and talked about at
that time (and, indeed, since that time too),
that the world has had good cause to be sick
of it, for ever.

Of course, nothing came of all these fine
doings but a speedy renewal of the war between
England and France, in which the
two Royal companions and brothers in arms
longed very earnestly to damage one another.
But, before it broke out again, the Duke of
Buckingham was shamefully executed on
Tower Hill, on the evidence of a discharged
servant—really for nothing, except the folly
of having believed in a friar of the name of
HOPKINS, who had pretended to be a prophet,
and who had mumbled and jumbled out some
nonsense about the Duke's son being destined
to be very great in the land. It was believed
that the unfortunate Duke had given offence
to the great Cardinal by expressing his mind
freely about the expense and absurdity of the
whole business of the Field of the Cloth of
Gold. At any rate, he was beheaded, as I
have said, for nothing. And the people who
saw it done were very angry, and cried out
that it was the work of " the butcher's
son!"

The new war was a short one, though the
Earl of Surrey invaded France again, and did
some injury to that country. It ended in
another treaty of peace between the two
kingdoms, and in the discovery that the
Emperor of Germany was not such a good
friend to England in reality, as he pretended
to be. Neither did he keep his promise to
Wolsey to make him Pope, though the King
urged him. Two Popes died in pretty quick
succession, but the foreign priests were too
much for the Cardinal, and kept him out of
the post. So the Cardinal and King together
found out that the Emperor of Germany was
not a man to keep faith with; broke off
a projected marriage between the King's
daughter MARY, Princess of Wales, and that
sovereign; and began to consider whether it
might not be well to marry the young lady,
either to Francis himself, or to his eldest
son.

There now arose at Wittemberg, in
Germany, the great leader of the mighty
change in England which is called The
Reformation, and which set the people free
from their slavery to the priests. This was
a learned Doctor, named MARTIN LUTHER,
who knew all about them, for he had been
a priest and even a monk, himself. The
preaching and writing of Wickliffe, mentioned
in the last volume, had set a number of men
thinking on this subject; and Luther, finding
one day, to his great surprise, that there
really was a book called the New Testament
which the priests did not allow to be read,
and which contained truths that they suppressed,
began to be very vigorous against
the whole body, from the Pope downward.
It happened, while he was yet only beginning
his vast work of awakening the nation, that
an impudent fellow named TETZEL, a friar
of very bad character, came into his neighbourhood
selling what were called Indulgences,
by wholesale, to raise money for
beautifying the great Cathedral of St. Peter's,
at Rome. Whoever bought an Indulgence
of the Pope was supposed to buy himself off
from the punishment of Heaven for his
offences. Luther told the people that these
Indulgences were worthless bits of paper,
before God, and that Tetzel and his masters
were a crew of impostors in selling them.

The King and the Cardinal were mightily
indignant at this presumption; and the King
(with the help of SIR THOMAS MORE, a wise
man, whom he afterwards repaid by striking
off his head) even wrote a book about it, with
which the Pope was so well pleased that he
gave the King the title of Defender of the
Faith. The King and the Cardinal also issued
flaming warnings to the people not to read
Luther's books, on pain of excommunication.
But, they did read them for all that; and the
rumour of what was in them, spread far and
wide.

When this great change was thus going on,
the King began to show himself in his truest