shall do little more, in the remainder of the present article, than furnish extracts from the work. Sir Thomas More was born in London, in the year 1480, and was the only son of Sir John More, one of the judges of the Court of King's Bench. He gave early proofs of extraordinary talents; and his attainments before he reached the age of manhood, would, even in this age, be esteemed very uncommon. He was presently distinguished for his eloquence at the bar; and, at the age of twenty-two, he displayed both his abilities and his courage by a successful opposition in parliament to a favourite measure of king Henry VII. In the 14th year of Henry VIII. he was chosen Speaker of the House of Commons, where he soon had occasion for all his prudence. "At this parliament Cardinal Wolsey found himselfe much agrieved with the burgesses thereof, that there was nothing said or done therein but that it was immediately blowne abrode in every ale-house: it fortuned at that parliament a great subsidie to be demannded, which the Cardinal, fearing would not passe the Commons House, determined for the furtherance thereof to be there personally himselfe: before whose coming they themselves much debated, whether it weere better to receive him with a few of his lords, or with all his traine. Most were of opinion the first were the best. At last Mr. More said in this manner. • Maisters, for as much as my Lord Cardinal lately, you wote well, laid to our charge the lightness of our tongues, for things uttered out of this house, it shall not be amisse, in my minde, to receive him with all his pompe, with all his maces, his pillars, his poll-axes, his crosses, his hatt, and the great seale too; to the intent, that if he finde the like fault hereafter with us, we may be the bolder, from ourselves, to lay the blame upon them whom he bringeth with him.' Whereunto the whole house agreeing, he was received accordingly. Where, after he had, in a solemn oration, by many reasons proved, how necessarie it was the demaund to be granted; and further shewing that lesse would not serve to maintaine the prince's purpose, he seeing the companie sit still silent; and aunswering nothing, contrarie to his expecta tion shewed themselves not verie forward to incline to his request, said unto them, Maisters, you have many wise and learned men among you; and sith I am from the king's own person sent hither unto you, for the preservation of yourselves and all the realme, I thinke it mete you give me some reasonable answere.' Where everie man holding his peace, then began he to speake to one Mr. Marnee; who making no answere, he severallie asked the same ques tion of divers others, accounted the wisest amongst them; to whom when none of them all woulde yeeid so much as one word, being before agreed as the custom was, by theire Speaker to make answere, Maisters, quoth the Cardinal, unlesse it be the man- Whereupon the Cardinal displeased, sodenie Let those who are fond of vaunting of the good old times of the English constitution, as compared with the present, contemplate this scene, and correct their groundless prejudices. In 1529, More succeeded Wolsey as chancellor; and the same period presented the singular spectacle of the son chancellor, and the father a judge in the Court of King's Bench. Being in this high office, he used commonlie every after noone, at his owne house at Chelsey, to sit in his halle, to the intent that all that had anie suit to him, night boldlie come to his presence. He kept no door shut. Both to riche and poore he was teadic to give audience. His manner was, before he would award any sub-poena, to made over every bill of complaint himselfe; and if he found matter sufficient, he would tet his hand unto it; if not, he would presently cancel it. He dispatched moe causes in shorter space than were wont to be in Manie yeares, before or since. For once he sat when there was noe man or matter to be heard. This he caused to be enrolled in publique acts of that court. It is strange to them that know there have been causes tere depending some dozen yeares. And there be so many things there heard, that it wil be a rare thing to heare the like againe." Vel îi p. 96. After presiding little more than two years in the Court of Chancery, the king, at his earnest desire, permitted him to resign: his great anxiety was to dedicate the remainder of his life to more serious duties. So little had he attended to the accumulation of money in the high offices which he had been called to fill, that, when he resigned the chancellorship, he had not, for the maintenance of all his family, the sum of 50l. a year! We are informed, in a note, that he was compelled, "for lacke of other lewell, every nighte before he wente to bed, to cause a greate burden of ferne to be brought into his owne chamber, and with the blaze thereof to warme himself, his wife, and his children, and so without any other are to goe to theyre beds." (Note, p. 99.) The sudden changes of opinion, and the caprice of conduct, which mark the history of Henry VIII., left Sir Thomas More little leisure to enjoy his retirement. His countenance was of importance to the king; and, in the spirit of a genuine tyrant, Henry determined to obtain his sauction, or to bring him to the caffold. No measures, however, could induce him to approve of the king's marriage with Anne Boleyn, or to sanction his supremacy. He would gladly have remained silent; but silence itself was a crime not to be pardoned. He suffered death for his refusal to take the oath of supremacy. On being summoned before the lords at Lambeth, he mildly declined the oath; and his resolution.could not be shaken. His attachment to the cause of popery appears to have been perfectly conscientious; and his reverence for the priesthood, even in that age, was very remarkable. He had learnt, however, to distinguish between the cause and the men; for if examples, on their part, could have removed his scruples, there seems to have been no lack. Of their conduct on that occasion, he speaks with very little respect; and if the vicar of Croydon be a fair sample of the party, it must be confessed, that respect to such persons would be quite misplaced. "I heard also Maister Doctour the Vicar of Croydon, and all the remnant of the priests of London that were sent for, were sworne. They had such favoure at the councells hands, that they were not suffered travaile and cost, as suitors are wont to doe, to dance long attendance to theire great but were sped apace to theire comforts; so farr forth that Maister Vickar of Croydon, for gladness, or for dryness, or ells that it might be sene quod ille notus erat pontifici, went to my lord's butterie barr, and called for drinke, and dranke valde familiariter." Vol. ii. pp. 178, 179. After a few days he was ordered to the Tower, where he remained till his execution. The following letter was addressed to his daughter, Margaret, soon after his confinement. "My owne good daughter, our Lord be thanked I am in good health of bodie, and good quiet of minde; and of wordlie things I no more desire than I have. I beseech him make you all merrie in the hope of Heaven. And such things as I somewhat longed to speak unto you, concerning the world to come, our Lord put them in your mind, as I trust he doth, and the better by his holie Spirit, who bless you, and preserve you all! "Written with a cole by your tender loveing father, who in his poore praiers forgetteth none of you all, nor your babes, nor your nurses, nor your good husbands, nor your good husbands shrewd wives, nor your father's shrewd wife neither, nor our other friends. And thus fare you heartily well, for lacke of paper. "Thomas More, Knight." Vol. ii. pp. 183, 184. It is impossible to read the account of his trial and sentence without lively sentiments of honest indignation. On this melancholy occasion he felt as a Christian ought to feel; and after the sentence was pronounced, delivered the following beautiful address to his judges. "My lords, more I have not to say; but that like as the blessed apostle Saint Paul, as we reade in the Acts, was present, and consented to the death of Saint Stephen, and kept the cloathes of them that stoned him to death, and yet be they both twaine compeers and holie saints in Heaven, and shall continue there friends togeather for ever; so I verilie trust, and shall therefore right hartilie pray, though your lordships have now here on earthe been my judges to my condemnation; wee may yet hereafter in Hea ven, all merrilie meet togeather to our everlasting salvation. And thus I desire Almightie God to preserve and defend the king's majestie, and to send him good counsell!" Vol. ii. p. 213. "Wher. Sir Thomas," continues the biographer, "came from Westminster towards the Tower, his daughter Margaret, desirous to see her father, whom she thought she should never see againe in this worlde, and also to have his last blessing, gave attendance about the Tower wharfe, where she knew her father would passe: whome as soon as she sawe, she reverentlie bowed herself upon her knees to take his blessinge. After she hastened towards him, without consideration or care of herself, pressing in amongst the thickest of the throng and companie of the guard, who with halberts and bills went round about him: she ran to her father, and there openlie in the sight of them all imbraced him about the necke, and kissed him most lovinglie. Who well liked her naturall and deare daughterlie affection towards him; gave her his fatherlie blessing and manie godlie words of comfort; besides telling her that whatsoever he suffered, though he suffered as an innocent, yet did he not suffer it without Gods holie will and pleasure, For thou knowest, Megg, my deare daughter, thou knowest the veric batom and secrets of my hart. So thou hast cause, rather to congratulate and rejoice with me, and for me, that God hath thus gratiouslie advanced me to this high honour, and hath made me worthie to spend my life, for the defence and upholding of virtue, justice, and religion, than to be dismaide or discomfited. Therefore be of good comfort."" Vol. ii. pp. 214, 215. "To come again to Mistress Roper. Being departed from her father, she was not satisfied with the former sight of him; like one that had forgotten herself, being ravished with the entire love of her deare father, having no respect to herself, nor to the mul titude of people that were about him, suddenlie she turned backe againe, ranac to him as before, tooke him about the neck, and divers times nost lovinglie kissed him; and at last with a full heavie hart was faine to depart from him: the beholding whereof was to manie there present so lamentable, that it made them for verie sorrowe and compassion to weep. Yet Sir Thomas, as one quite mortified to the worlde, and all worldlie affection, as though he were whollie fixed in the love of Heaven, albeit he was a most loving, tender, and natural father to all his children, and above all other most dearelie loved this his daughter Margaret; yet the love of God, and the desire of Heaven hard so mightilie subdued and conquered even nature itself, that he neither sighed nor wept, nor shewed any token of sorrowe or griefe, no nor once, for all this, chaunged his countenance: such was his temper and mo deration of minde; such his resolution and carriage in this matter; as if he had been discharged of all human affection and incombrances of the same; more like an angell than a man. The like temper of his mind he showed at his arraignment; for neither in speech nor countenance he showed anis sign of alteration nor passion." Vol. ii pp. 215, 216. On the day of execution, "Sir Thomas fasting, and elad in an old ill favoured friese gown, which to him was his marriage garment, and so meanlie apparelled the better to remember the povertie of his Maister Christ, was by the lientenant brought from the Tower towards the place of execution; where by the way a certaine importunate woman, with a loud voice called unto him at the Tower gate, beseeching him to declare, that he had certaine evi dences of her's, that were delivered him, when he was in office; saying, that sithence he was apprehended she could by no means come to them againe; and that he would be a mucane, that she might recover them, the loss whereof she said did much grieve her. 'Good woman' (quoth he), content thyself, and have patience awhile; for the king is so good and gratious to me, that even within this half hour he will disburthen me of all worldlie business, and help thee him seif. A little further a good woman offered him wiue to drinke. Martie, good wife, (quoth he), I will not drinke now. My ་ Maister had easell and gall, and not wine given him to drinke.' "A little further a third woman, and she was verie clamerons: Do you remember Mister More, that when you were Chauncellor, you were my hard friend, and did me great injurie in giving wrong judgment against me?' Woman '(quoth he), 'I am now going to my death. I remember well the whole matter; if now I were to give sentence againe, I assure thee, I would not alter it. Thou hast no injurie, so content thee, and trouble me not.'" Vol. ii. pp. $30, 221. And Thus he came to the scaffold, where taking the help of one of the officers to ascend, he desired all the people thereabouts to pray for him; and being forbidden to make anie further speech, he desired all there that were present, to beare witness that he should suffer in and for the faith of the Catholic Church. For I call Heaven and Earth to witness, I am the kings true and faithfull subject; the servant of Almightie God; and determined to die in the profession of his holie religion.' So he kneeled him downe on his knees, and with a loud voice said the fiftieth Psalm, Miserere ei Deus, to the end, with some other prayer. After which he turned to the executioner, and with chearfull countenance sake to him sayinge, What man, pull up thy spirits, and be not afraid to do thine office; who, as the manner is, asked him forgiveness. Sir Thomas kissed him, and told him, no mortall man could give that, he should receive at his hands: but I am sorie my necke is so short, therefore strike not awrie, for saving of thy honestie.' So he tooke a napkin that he brought with him, wherewith he blindfolded his owne eies, streaking his beard, which was then growne long in the time of his durance, and laid it over the block, and thereon laid his head even and quiet. So with one blow of an axe his sweet soule passed out of this worlde to Almightie God, the verie same day that le most desired, and before foretold, to witt, the octaves of Saint Peter, the eve of Saint Thomas, the sixth of Julie in the yeare of or Lord 1535, in the twentie seventh of the reign of king Henery the eighth, and the yeare of his age fifty five, or fifty six, as some say." Vol. ii. pp. 222, 223. "Immediately after the execution of Sir Thomas More, word was brought thereof to be king; who being then at dice when it was told him, at the hearing thereof seemed to be wonderfullie amazed. And is it true CHRIST, OBSERV. No. 110. (quoth the king)? Is Sir Thomas More, my Chauncellour, dead?' The messenger answered, Yea, if it may please your majestie.' He turned him to Queen Anne, who then stood by, and wistlie looking upon her said, Thou, thou art the cause of this man's death.' So presentlie went to his chamber, and there wept full bitterlie. For so unjust and violent a death of so innocent a man, could not but grieve the verie authors of it." Vol. ii. pp. 223, 224. drawn of this illustrious man, we In the outline which has been have chiefly confined ourselves to his public life. But the business of biography is also intended to intro, duce us to the individual in private, and to exhibit those minuter traits of character, which peculiarly mark the temper and habits of the man. Our readers will not be displeased to see some additional quotations, which tend to illustrate the character both of More and his biographer. Sir Thomas was twice married, The motives which influenced him in the choice of his first wife are in modern times somewhat uncommon. "All this while Thomas More was un married, and seemed to have liked well to have led a single life. But in conclusion he fell to marrying, and tooke to wife the daughter of one Mr. Colt, a gentleman of Essex, who had three daughters very virtaous and well-liking. And albeit his mind served him most to settle his affection on the second sister, for that he thought her fairest and best favoured, yet when he considered it would be a grief to the eldest to see her youngest sister preferred before her, he then, of a certaine pitie, framed his fancie towards the eldest." Vol. ii. pp. 66, 67. The second wife, who appears to have been no great favourite with the Biographer, was taken from prudential considerations. "Now that Sir Thomas had so manie children, and so great a family, he knew the and to ease himself of that burden detercare in ruling and governing them was great; mined to marrie againe; so for that end principallie be married a widdowe, whose skill in such matters he thought would much ease him. This wooman most lovinglic he used. Though she was aged, blunt, and rude, yet he of his wisdome, or rather pietie, so cherished, and made much of her, as if she had been his first young wife. She was R also sparefull, and somewhat given to niggardliuess. Yet such as she was, he by his 'dexterity so fashioned her, that he had a quiet and pleasant life with her, and brought her to that order, that she learned to play and sing and ever, at his returne home, he tooke an account of the task he had enjoyned her touching these exercises; but with such showe of love, that she desired to please him the better." Vol. ii. p. 158. "At another tyme she came againe to visit him" (in the Tower); "and amongst many matters that she was sorrie for, for his sake, one she much lamented in her mind; which was, that he should have his chamber door made fast upon him everie night. By my troth,' (quoth shee)' if the door should be shut upon me, I thinke it would stop my breath.'. At that Sir Thomas smiled, but durst not laugh out for fear of displeasing her (as he saith himself); and thus he answered: Gentle wife, I wott well you use to shutt your chamber within, both doores and windowes, and not to have them opened all the long night and what difference is there between them, for the stopping one's breath, whether the chamber door be shut within or without?" Vol. ii. pp. 140, 144. : Of his wit and playful disposition, the dignity of history itself generally condescends to furnish a specimen: we select a few instances from the life. "Sir Thomas kept his accustomed mirth as a testimonie of a clear conscience in his greatest afflictions, Being brought to the Tower, the porter at his entrance demanded, as the manner is, to have his uppermost garment, be it cloke or gowne. Sir Thomas delivered him his hat; Here hold my friend,' (quoth he) here is my hoode: for this is my uppermost; for it covereth my topp.' "Being prisoner in the Tower, the Lieutenant, who was his good friend and old ac quaintance, desired him that he would accept in good part, such cheer as he was able to make him. Yea, quoth Sir Thomas, here is good cheer, Master Lieutenant, God be thanked! And if any here like it not, turn him out of doors for a churl."" Vol ii. pp. 129, 130. "At another time, there came a man of some reckoning, and was merveilons earnest and importunate with Sir Thomas, to have him change his minde, and that he should not be so obstinate and self-liked, as to persevere still in one minde. Sir Thomas either wearie of his tedious speeches, or desirous to be merrie, or to learne the man to speake more intelligible, for in all his discourse he never mentioned wherein he should change his minde, nor spake one werde, either of the marriage, or of the Kinge's supremacie, or of any particular matter that concerned Sir Thomas, but onlie desired and urged that he would be better advised, and change his opinion: Sir,' (quoth Sir Thomas to him) I will tell you the verie truth. I have considered and preponderated all my affairs and doings, both public and private; and now I see it very expedient for me to change my opinion; and so I meane to doe. Wherefore I meane- and there he staid. The courtier interrupting him, neither asking him, nor expecting the rest of his speeches, showes himself merveilous glad, congratulates him in his good chaunge, and desires him to continue it. And away he hyed to the king, to whom he told the good successe he had gott by conference with Sir Thomas. The king was verie glad to heare it, and commands him presentlie to retourne againe, and saith, Commend me to Sir Thomas, and tell him' (quoth the king) how gratefully I take it, in that he will not seem to strive with us anie more. And moreover give him to understand from me, that for further satisfaction of the worlde, it is our pleasure that he sett it down in writing, that all may see his loyalty and love to us his kinge and lorde.' The over hastie reporter of this blessed newes, repaires with speed to Sir Thomas, and declares to him the kinges will and pleasure. Whereat Sir Thomas being abashed: Now God forbid' (quoth Sit Thomas) that anie worde passed betwist you and me here in secret, should be told the king.' It is well enough' (quoth the courtier) for I know it will verie much please his Majestie to heare so good tidings." 'What tidings be these? (quoth Sir Thomas) You told me,' (quoth he) 'you had changed your opinion. Now our Lorde help us' (quoth Sir Thomas) my opinion, my opi nion, I have changed-but in what, I perceive you did not understand me, which had been verie requisite to have been done, be fore you had informed his Majestie. For now he may be highlie offended, as thinking Why' himself abused by one of us.' (quoth he) have you not chaunged your opinion concerning the supremacie and the divorce? We talked of no such matters' (quoth Sir Thomas): but you were still urging me to change my opinion; and I told you I had: and being about to explicate my meaninge, you were over hastie, for you interrupted me, and so in haste you de parted; and in my mind a little sooner than good manners would. This then I would have said unto you. I have changed my opinion, concerning the cutting of my beard. For you see it is now all growne out of fa shion since my coming into prison: and you |