excuses, persecutions and negotiations. Becket had to do with three courts, that of King Henry, of King Louis, and of Pope Alexander. Several of his suffragans, led by the Bishop of London, and backed by the Archbishop of York, abetted the king and his measures. Not daring, however, to engage in open hostility with the apostolic see, they were forced, whenever the entreaties of Becket extorted the Pope's permission to proceed against them, either to succumb for a while, or to neutralize the archbishop's acts by a counter appeal to the court of Rome. Henry himself was afraid to come to a formal rupture with the Pope, who might, by a welltimed sentence of excommunication, unchain upon him at once the enemies from whom he had most to fear. But he kept a sharp eye on the signs of the times; and by judiciously playing upon the Pope's dread of a pretender to his chair, and occasionally palsying the spiritual arm by an operation on the temporal palm, succeeded in holding his enemy at bay, though he could not prevail upon the pontiff to depose or desert him. King Louis continued to the last, with but one brief exception, the fast friend and generous protector of the fugitive. His generosity, it must be confessed, cost him little, followed at the heels, as it ever was, by that faithful monitor, policy. During the entire period of Becket's exile, it was almost invariably the interest of Louis to foment a quarrel which weakened the hands of his great rival. It was equally his interest to preserve the reputation which he had acquired of being the devoted servant of the church.

It will readily be conceived that Becket, with all these parties to manage, was not idle. The Pope was to be spurred, the bishops to be badgered, the king to be lectured. The voluminous correspondence, of which so large a portion is extracted in the work before us, affords full proof of his indefatigable activity. Though these letters turn for the most part upon the great controversy which had already engaged the attention of Europe, they are full of anecdotes and characteristic traits which are highly interesting. We cannot help extracting the following testimony, seven centuries old, to the attractions and perils of the capital of France.

THE ABBOT OF ST. REMY TO JOHN OF SALISBURY.

"Truly, my dear fellow, you have fixed upon a most agreeable place of exile: all kinds of pleasures, however vain, abound

in Paris; rich entertainments and choice wines, such as you cannot get at home, and the most charming society. But all this is nothing new did you ever know a man who did not like Paris? it is a most delightful place, a perfect garden of pleasure. However, many a true word is spoken in jest. O Paris, what a place art thou to beguile and fascinate! what snares hast thou to catch people with! what enticements dost thou hold out to draw men into temptation! what shafts dost thou launch forth to pierce the hearts of the foolish! And my own John thinks so, too, and so he has made Paris the place of his exile! I hope he may find it insufferable in good earnest, and get back home again, as soon as possible, to his own country!" - Vol. 1., p. 202.

We must also quote another passage, on account of its striking eloquence. The refractory bishops, in 1169, were getting up an appeal to Rome as a counterblast to some of Becket's measures. When Henry of Winchester was cited to Northampton to join in the deliberations of his colleagues, he replied:

For

"The law of God prescribes, that, when a man is summoned before a superior judge, he cannot appeal to an inferior. this reason it is, that 1, who am sinking under disease and old age, and have received a summons from the Almighty, am incapacitated from preferring an appeal to an earthly tribunal." Vol. 11., p. 190.

It is impossible to follow Becket through his years of exile, without admiring his inflexible constancy. It must be allowed that it sometimes degenerated into obstinacy; and it is difficult to excuse the pertinacity with which, after all material obstacles had been removed, he broke off a negotiation for peace, because the king would not give him the kiss of friendship. The fluctuating policy of the court of Rome was a sore trial to such a spirit. The Pope and his legates must have wondered at some of his salutations : "Health, and

firmness of mind to resist the cruelty of princes." "Health, and courage to resist the insolence of princes." Though his hopes sometimes gave way, his resolution was not shaken. In the same letter which bears the gloomy superscription, "To the half of my soul, health, as to myself; yea, more; for to myself there is no health," he speaks thus of the compromising legates :-"They may strain till they burst themselves, but they shall never, by Christ's grace, make me deviate from the path of justice, or from the great cause of

liberating the church." And when, at last, he had grown utterly weary of the time-serving delays which had frittered. away the best years of his life, he did not sink under the sickness of hope deferred, but gathered up his broken fortunes, and went home to die, Archbishop of Canterbury once more. There was, indeed, an inborn and essential dignity about this man, which, though it was sometimes crossed and marred by the outbreaks of an impetuous temper, nothing could destroy. Hear how he answers the taunts of Foliot : -"You say that the king raised me to honor from a mean I am, indeed, not sprung from royal ancestors; but I would rather be the man to whom nobility of mind gives the advantages of birth, than one in whom a noble ancestry degenerates.

He was often forced to expostulate, but his expostulations were manly; and when he gave vent to his grief, the woes of the church lent a majesty to his own. It cannot be denied that his stern and even violent purposes sometimes required the curbing hand of the Pope, and drew forth the warnings of his best friends. His warmest advocate must regret his frequent want of gentleness and humility. But it must be remembered, that the provocation he had received was great, that he had been unused to contradiction, and that he had identified the cause of the church with his own. The cause of Christ would undoubtedly have lost nothing by a more Christlike way of defending it; but an ardent man is especially apt, in a religious controversy, to take his own temper for granted, and deem himself authorized to fight with such weapons as nature has given him. The sense of injury, the study of revenge, the love of victory, the emulation of his predecessors, had undoubtedly leavened his zeal for the church; but that he felt himself to be the champion of her liberties must, we think, be conceded. We cannot subject such characters to a chemical analysis, and assign to each element its specific proportion. The ingredients of the compound are perpetually varying in their proportions, and what is hypocrisy to-day may be fanaticism to-morrow. One thing, however, is certain; -natures of the highest order never perplex the mind in this way; the transparent simplicity of virtue will always justify itself. In a word, Becket's character was marked by many of the traits of that of Gregory the Seventh, and must be judged by similar rules.

of

We return to the narrative. During the first five years Becket's exile, every attempt at a reconciliation had proved abortive. So long as each party retained his distrust of the other, the best devised scheme of peace proved of course utterly fruitless. While Henry promised, with a reservation of the honor of his kingdom, and Becket, with that of his God or his own order, it was evident that a solid cement of amity was yet wanting. Early in 1170, however, matters approached a crisis. The king had determined to associate his son Henry with himself in the sovereignty of his dominions. Preparations were accordingly made for the coronation of the young prince. But it was an ancient prerogative of the Archbishop of Canterbury to crown the English kings. The present incumbent was as little likely to yield this privilege to another, as the king was to allow him to exercise it. On this occasion, the Pope was true to his servant. The Archbishop of York and the other bishops received a mandate from the apostolic see, forbidding them to assist at the ceremony of coronation. But in spite of this, the deed was done ; and no reparation for the wounded honor of the church remained, but to let loose upon the head of the impenitent aggressor the terrors of an interdict. Even Henry's bold spirit quailed at this dreaded name. It would be an invitation to the French king to fall upon his continental territories, and to his English subjects to cast him off as the rejected of the Lord. He could no longer hope for the countenance of ecclesiastics who still professed obedience to the head of the Church. In order to avert the threatened blow, he promised once more to make peace with the archbishop. An interview took place at Freitval, on the confines of the duchy of Maine, at which, by the help of a little prudent silence on the one hand, and some concessions on the other, a degree of progress seemed to be made towards a genuine peace.

Becket now made preparations for his return to England; not forgetting to send over a store of good French wines for his Canterbury cellars. But his usual untoward luck followed him. By the king's half-faced fellowship, and the malice of his persecutors in England, various impediments were thrown in his way. The agents whom he had sent over warned him not to return to England till he was on better terms with the king. Becket knew what risk he ran in making the attempt.

He wrote to the Pope, -"We believe we shall return to England, but whether for peace or suffering we know not." He complained to Henry of the infamous conduct of Randolf de Broc, who had threatened to take away his life before he had eaten a whole loaf in England; but he declared his resolution to serve his church at the peril of his life. Before set

ting sail, he had two more interviews with the king, who commissioned the Dean of Salisbury to escort him over to England. They parted for the last time as friends; but Becket's confidence in the king must have been very imperfect, or he could not have compared a remark made by him to "what the Devil said to Jesus Christ." He could not refrain from sending over the Pope's letters of excommunication and suspension against the refractory bishops, a measure which was sure to exasperate his enemies and again alienate the king.

The

In spite of the warnings which reached him from England, he set sail from Flanders early in December. "Look, my lord," said one of his clerks," there is England." "You are very eager to go," he replied; "but before we have been there forty days, you will wish yourselves anywhere else." The party landed at Sandwich, in Becket's own see. cross of Canterbury on the prow of the vessel soon drew the people of the town to the water's edge to welcome the returning exile. On the next day, he continued his journey to Canterbury, and every parish poured out its delighted multitude to meet him. The people threw down their garments in the way, the church-bells were rung, and the air resounded with songs of joy. The glad tidings spread like wildfire; and when he reached his own city, the exuberant gratulations of his flock could not be kept within bounds. The long-bereaved cathedral was decked out with the ensigns of gladness. Hymns of thanksgiving went up in the churches, and the trumpet sounded in every hall. Becket preached once more in his own church, but there was an ominous significance in the text, "Here we have no continuing city, but seek one to come."

After eight days, he went to London, to pay a visit to the young king. He was received everywhere on his road with the most enthusiastic welcome. As he drew nigh to the city, a procession of three thousand poor scholars and clerks attached to the churches of London came out to meet him,