cardinal; but, so much against his will, that
it is thought he even aspired in his own mind
to the vacant throne of England, and had
hopes of marrying the Princess Mary. His
being made a high priest, however, put an
end to all that. His mother, the venerable
Countess of Salisbury, who was,
unfortunately for herself, within the tyrant's reach,
was the last of his relatives on whom his
wrath fell. "When she was told to lay her
grey head upon the block, she answered the
executioner, " No! My head never committed
treason, and if you want it, you shall seize it."
So, she ran round and round the scaffold with
the executioner striking at her, and her grey
hair bedabbled with blood; and even when
they held her down upon the block she moved
her head about to the last, resolved to be no
party to her own barbarous murder. All
this the people bore, as they had borne
everything else.

Indeed they bore much more; for the slow
fires of Smithfield were continually burning,
and people were constantly being roasted to
death—still to show what a good Christian
the King was. He defied the Pope and his
Bull, which was now issued, and had come
into England; but he burned innumerable
people whose only offence was that they
differed from the Pope's religious opinions.
There was a wretched man named LAMBERT
among others, who was tried for this before
the King, and with whom six bishops argued
one after another. When he was quite
exhausted (as well he might be, after six
bishops) he threw himself on the King's
mercy; but the King blustered out that he
had no mercy for heretics. So, he too fed the
fire.

All this the people bore, and more than all
this yet. The national spirit seems to have
been banished from the kingdom at this time.
The very people who were executed for
treason, the very wives and friends of the
''bluff" King, spoke of him on the scaffold
as a good prince, and a gentle prince—just as
serfs in similar circumstances have been known
to do, under the Sultan and Bashaws of the
East, or under the fierce old tyrants of Russia,
who poured boiling and freezing water on
them alternately, until they died. The
Parliament were as bad as the rest, and gave
the King whatever he wanted; among other
vile accommodations, they gave him new
powers of murdering at his will and pleasure,
any one whom he might choose to call a
traitor. But the worst measure they passed
was an Act of Six Articles, commonly called
at the time "the whip with six strings;"
which punished offences against the Pope's
opinions without mercy, and enforced the
very worst parts of the monkish religion.
Cranmer would have modified it, if he could;
but, being overborne by the Romish party,
had not the power. As one of the articles
declared that priests should not marry
and as he was married himself, he sent his
wife and children into Germany, and began
to tremble at his danger; none the less
because he was, and had long been, the King's
friend. This whip of six strings was made
under the King's own eye. It should never
be forgotten of him how cruelly he supported
the worst of the Popish doctrines when there
was nothing to be got by opposing them.

This amiable monarch now thought of
taking another wife. He proposed to the
French King to have some of the ladies of the
French Court exhibited before him, that he
might make his Royal choice; but the French
King answered that he would rather not have
his ladies trotted out to be shown like horses
at a fair. He proposed to the Dowager Duchess
of Milan, who replied that she might have
thought of such a match if she had had two
heads; but, that only owning one, she must beg
to keep it safe. At last Cromwell represented
that there was a Protestant princess in
Germany—those who held the reformed religion
were called Protestants, because their leaders
had Protested against the abuses and impositions
of the unreformed Church—named
ANNE OF CLEVES, who was beautiful, and
would answer the purpose admirably. The
King said was she a large woman, because
lie must have a fat wife? " O yes," said
Cromwell; "she was very large—just the
thing." On hearing this the King sent over
his famous painter, Hans Holbein, to take
her portrait. Hans made her out to be
so good-looking that the King was satisfied
and the marriage arranged. But, whether
anybody had paid Hans to touch up the
picture; or whether Hans, like one or two
other painters, flattered a princess in the
ordinary way of business, I cannot say; all
I know is, that when Anne came over and
the King went to Rochester to meet her, and
first saw her without her seeing him, he
swore she was a great Flanders mare, and
said he would never marry her. Being obliged
to do it, now matters had gone so far, he
would not give her the presents he had
prepared, and would never notice her; and he
never forgave Cromwell his part in the
affair. His downfall dates from that time.

It was quickened by his enemies in the
interests of the unreformed religion, putting in
the King's way, at a state dinner, a niece of
the Duke of Norfolk, CATHERINE HOWARD, a
young lady of fascinating manners, though
small in stature and not particularly beautiful.
Falling in love with her on the spot, the King
soon divorced Anne of Cleves after making
her the subject of much brutal talk, on
pretence that she had been previously betrothed
to some one else—which would never do for
one of his dignity—and married Catherine.
It is probable that on his wedding-day, of
all days in the year, he sent his faithful
Cromwell to the scaffold, and had his head
struck off. He further celebrated the occasion
by burning at one time, and causing to
be drawn to the fire on the same hurdles,