Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands;

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth,
Renowned for their deeds as far from home,-
For Christian service and true chivalry,-
As is the sepulchre, in stubborn Jewry,
Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son ;-
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leas'd out-I die pronouncing it-
Like to a tenement or pelting farm:
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds:
That England, that was wont to conquer others
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
Ah, would the scandal vanish with

my life,

How happy then were my ensuing death.-A. II. s. 1.

The moral reflections uttered by Gaunt in this scene relative to the probable result of Richard's conduct, are truly beautiful. Not only were they applicable to his time, but they are applicable to all times, conveying in a few lines, a lesson, which the whole of mankind would be none the worse for studying. How true is the exclamation of the poet Keats, that

"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,"

and how excellently is this assertion verified by the language of Gaunt. Its merit is of the highest order, for the idea is so sustained and continuous, and the language is so in unison with the thought, that the creation is really beautiful. From the lines, like a figure from the canvass of the painter, starts forth moral beauty, and remains "a joy for ever." The aged

patriot says,

"His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last;

For violent fires soon burn out themselves;

Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short;
He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder;
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.”

Northumberland in this play is but a mere sketch, which the dramatist eventually and most truthfully completed in Henry IV. He is an ambitious, restless, and selfish man; a thorough hater of peace. Only amidst strife, plots and turbulence does he enjoy existence. Upon the battle-field, with the blast of war blowing in his ears, he revels with delight, and his son, the gallant Harry Hotspur, is a worthy fighting descendant of such a fighting sire. Of the rest of the baronial and knightly characters, with two exceptions, they are men of words, ready to give the lie and back it with their swords. The quarrel scene in the 4th act, is but a bandying of foul names and foul words :-of boastings, and of hurling of gauntlets, none of which are redeemed, for Bolingbroke observes,

"Lords appellant,

Your differences shall all rest under gage,
Till we assign you to your days of trial."

The bishop of Carlisle is a distinct character, and one which contrasts most favourably with some of the other dignitaries of the play. Under every phase of fortune he remains faithful to Richard. He persistently abideth by the king's course of action, and even after others have given up the struggle he ceases not from action. Of all the followers of Richard, he alone has the courage to defend the fallen monarch. His consis

tency of conduct winneth the respect of his adversaries, and when he is taken prisoner and brought before Bolingbroke, charged with having conspired against his life, he is dismissed by the usurping monarch, who says,

"Carlisle, this is your doom ;

Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife:
For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,

High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.”—A. v. s. 6.

Of the Duke of York, uncle of the king, it may with justice be said, that he had neither the energy nor the ability to play a conspicuous or important part in the struggle between the barons and the king. He was too much attached to the sports of the field, and to retirement upon his estate, to be capable of lending force or strength to either side. His whole conduct is marked by indecision; he could not resolve, and this lack of resolution prevented him from adopting any definite course of action. His irresolution did not proceed "from thinking too precisely upon the event," but from a want of thought, due to a deficiency of mental calibre and insufficient training. When left in charge of the realm, he having been deputed regent during the absence of his nephew Richard, in Ireland, the weak side of his character is soon made manifest. When he learns of the landing of Bolingbroke he knoweth not what to do, nor whither to go, and most truly doth he depict his own character in the language which he uses when describing his position. He says,

"Here am I left to underprop his land,
Who weak with age cannot support myself."
"what a tide of woes

Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!

I know not what to do."

Gentlemen, will you go muster men? If I know
How, or which way to order these affairs,

Thus disorderly thrust into my hands,

Never believe me."

"All is uneven,

And everything is left at six and seven.”—A. II. s. 2. Richard II. is undoubtedly one of the finest of Shakspere's historic plays. It is a grand opening chapter of his great dramatic chronicle, for it presents all things. in their true historic light, and embues them with that true human interest which is the keystone of success. The historical relation of this play is continued through the reign of Henry IV. by Shakspere, in two parts. Though the actual period of time which this play extends over is but three years, yet what a field, what a vast extent of view it doth present. What various passions, emotions, and sentiments it calls into existence, moving and acting upon ourselves as if we were engaged in the strife, instead of being mere spectators, gazing through the glass of Father Time. Taken individually and collectively, the characters form a group upon which speculation will busy herself in analyzing the motives, determining the results, and in calculating how, and in what way, we have been and are affected. Life's mirror is here presented, and by its reflection, like the lantern of Diogenes, we perceive that the figures are composed of clay and brass, silver and gold. That the good and the bad are bound up in each other; and we are to some extent shown the means, which the advances of civilization prove, whereby the condition of humanity has been and can be bettered. The rude clamour of the barons, enough "to fright the

isle from its propriety," and the upheaving of the masses under Tyler, were forerunners of that great and earnest cry for social reform which the improved intelligence of our people is seeking to realize. The liberty of thought and speech which we now enjoy, the removal of serfdom and villeinage, are results which have flowed from the conduct of our ancestors. In the reign of Richard II. the seed which had been sown by Simon de Montfort, viz. the creation of Parliaments, was nourished and cultured by the Commons, who also, by their unity of action, succeeded in establishing the principle of the right of Parliament to vote and check the disbursements of the monies of the State. The infringement of this principle by Charles I. brought his head to the block, and established the power of the great and good Protector, Oliver Cromwell.

In the reign of Richard, as evidenced in the play, we see the natural result of the misgovernment of the king. We see that a great and wonderful change of feeling towards the reigning house came over all classes, both lord and knight, burgher and peasant. In the revolt of the villeins under Wat Tyler, which occurred some fourteen years prior to the opening of this play, 1397, so bitter was the animosity of the people against the house of Lancaster, that they compelled all men, with whom they were brought in contact, to take an oath never to seat one of that house upon the throne of England. Yet by the tyranny, the vices and follies of Richard, this feeling was destroyed, and Bolingbroke, the son of John of Gaunt, of the house of Lancaster, was hailed as a deliverer by the great body of the English people.

Northumberland in this play, is the outline of that