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THE 
 
 Utoafc &tont of f&ottour* 
 
THE 
 
 & Stone of 
 
 RULES 
 
 FOR THE 
 
 GENTLEMEN OF ENGLAND* 
 
 'YTrepviKw/Agi/. Rom. viii. 37. 
 LONDON, 1823. 
 PRINTED 
 (with the alterations from the first Edition) 
 FOR C. & J. RIVINGTON, 
 
 WATERLOO -PLACE, PALL-MALL; AND ST. PAUL'S CHURCH- YARD. 
 
LON DO N : 
 PRINTED BY R. GILBERT, 
 
 st. John's square. 
 
THE 
 
 TABLE, OR RUBRYSSHE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CONTENTE OF CHAPTERS. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Necessity of general rules .................. 2 
 
 Respect due to birth 4 
 
 The justice and reasonableness of such respect 9 
 
 The churl's character 10 
 
 Of degree and its advantages •••••• • « 27 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Wbt Dignity ofti&e SDtflet. 
 
 Proved by reference to its origine. »• «• 31 
 
 By the virtues with which it is connected •••»»»••«••»• 32 
 
 By the practice of degradation • 34 
 
 Conclusion, shewing to whom this dignity is due ...... 36 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OTje 3Re%ion of t%t flDtfJer. 
 
 Christian faith, the essential qualification ..••••••••»•* 41 
 
 Proved by the precepts of chivalry • ••••»... . 42 
 
 a 
 
CONTENTE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Why these are misunderstood by men of this age ...... 43 
 
 The religion of chivalry, its spirituality ............... 45 
 
 Defence of the faith prescribed , • 48 
 
 The Crusades and character of the Crusaders • 50 
 
 The influence of religion exemplified, in Huon de Bor- 
 deaux 54 
 
 Defence of the faith still obligatory • • • 60 
 
 How we are to regard particular churches • 62 
 
 These distinguished from sects 63 
 
 The blazon of nobility not to be excluded from churches 67 
 
 Attendance on holy service the duty of the great 68 
 
 Reverence prescribed 70 
 
 Some further display of this religion when it teaches the 
 
 scriptural doctrine of angels 72 
 
 concern for the souls of men 74 
 
 the rites of religion to be sometimes discharged by 
 
 laymen , 76 
 
 scrupulous allegiance to God, Saint Louis ........ 77 
 
 Examples of Edward the Confessor and Henry VI 79 
 
 The Dame Terrail, her advice, to Bayard 81 
 
 The duty and practice of attending prayer 86 
 
 The spirituality of chivalrous religion • 93 
 
 Some further defence of the crusaders 95 
 
 Modern historians, their falsehood . 96 
 
 The advice of St. Louis to his successor 100 
 
 His death and character 103 
 
 The death of Bavard 105 
 
 of Count Olivier and Charlemagne. .......... 110 
 
 of Orlando , 112 
 
 of Montmorenci 114 
 
 _ of Louis XVI. and Charles 1 116 
 
 The triumphant spirit of St. Louis 120 
 
 Humility in matter of religion 121 
 
 Respect for the Clergy.. 126 
 
 Remarks on the proper influence of the Clergy. 133 
 
CONTENTE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Remarks on regard to churches • 141 
 
 On the use of external ordinances 1 47 
 
 Honour and heroism allied to piety • . 149 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 t&fo ®ittuz& of t%z fiDrtoet. 
 
 Founded on religion 156 
 
 General spirit of chivalry. 158 
 
 Anecdote of Crillon • 160 
 
 Chivalry opposed to the spirit of ridicule .............. 162 
 
 Its elevated principles . . 164 
 
 Opposed to those of the world 166 
 
 Sentiment in what it consists ........................ 169 
 
 The chivalrous spirit how to be evidenced 171 
 
 Remarks on Don Quixote.. 174 
 
 Doctrine of utility and self-love condemned 179 
 
 Sophistry of some modern writers 181 
 
 — of Mr. Gibbon 184 
 
 Summary of the chivalrous spirit 185 
 
 Trust in providence 189 
 
 Example of Pagans • 192 
 
 The twelve virtues • • » . 193 
 
 Rule of speech • 195 
 
 Good sense how required 197 
 
 Liberality 207 
 
 Charity 211 
 
 Modern mistakes on the subject: the Societarian spirit. 212 
 
 Examples of charity 217 
 
 Generosity and grandeur 235 
 
 Contrasted with the spirit of some Heathens 239 
 
 High honour 242 
 
 Its existence not to be questioned 250 
 
 The policy of honour 250 
 
 The infidels had it not 254 
 
 a.2 
 
CONTENTE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The duty of forgiveness 255 
 
 Scrupulous delicacy of chivalry • 264 
 
 Instances of grandeur of soul shewn to be consistent with 
 
 charity 274 
 
 Independance •••• • ••••• 277 
 
 Truth 279 
 
 Another contrast with the worldly spirit 281 
 
 Friendship 284 
 
 Loyalty 287 
 
 Chivalry of England in the Parliamentary war ...... ... 291 
 
 Charles I .. 292 
 
 His servants. • •• 297 
 
 The conduct of other nations on this occasion • • . • 314 
 
 A digression on the ways of Providence • 317 
 
 Courtesy 327 
 
 Contempt for other nations condemned 349 
 
 Modesty 353 
 
 Humanity.. 359 
 
 The chivalrous spirit contrasted with that of Posthumius 
 
 and the Bishops who insulted James II. in his fall.. 367 
 
 — with that of Henry VIII 369 
 
 of the Jacquerie 370 
 
 of the tyrant Parliament 373 
 
 Duelling 377 
 
 Influence of chivalry on the female sex 384 
 
 Secures the happiness and dignity of women 388 
 
 Exemplified in the conduct of the Countess of Salisbury 
 
 to Edward III ....391 
 
 Of the Queen of Louis IX 392 
 
 Of the wife of Sir Richard Dangle 395 
 
 Of the Lady OfFalia 396 
 
 The simplicity of the chivalrous character exemplified 
 
 by the ancient mode of education for gentlemen. . . • 400 
 The evil of softness and too great prudence in the care 
 
 of youth •••••••••••••••••••••• 404 
 
CONTENTE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The danger consequent upon a more gallant mode shewn 
 
 to be no objection. 405 
 
 Death is not to be dreaded by the young 406 
 
 Age too often unprepared for it 410 
 
 The chivalrous spirit always ready 413 
 
 The ancient mode of dress, domestic arrangements, &c. 415 
 
 Simple form of charity. •• 417 
 
 Restitution 419 
 
 Chirurgical knowledge a female accomplishment. ...... 421 
 
 Simple objects of ambition • • 423 
 
 Plain duties rather than refinement Ib. 
 
 Queen Philippa, her death and character 426 
 
 The Dame Osylle 429 
 
 Legends, dreams, &c. 430 
 
 Scenes of hospitality • 437 
 
 The simple language of old romances • 439 
 
 General remarks on the advantage of studying the chi- 
 valrous character • 441 
 
 The ideas associated with chivalry 443 
 
 GrifRnstein and Luxembourg 447 
 
 The Author's recollections 450 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Church 453 
 
 Opinion of the chivalrous ages 458 
 
 Example of a Priest without piety or humanity ........ 461 
 
 The Church a refuge from the world 465 
 
 Parliament • • 475 
 
 The law 478 
 
 The army 486 
 
 Pope Urban' s address to the French nobles at the council 
 of Clermont, and its application . „ •«....... 491 
 
CONTENTE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 3cqtM'wm*ttt0. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Literature not cultivated by the knights 495 
 
 Yet ignorance not essential to chivalry . 498 
 
 Nobleness of soul compatible with lack of knowledge. • 499 
 
 Learning of the higher classes in subsequent times 502 
 
 The advantages and dignity conferred by piety and wis- 
 dom 504 
 
 Louis XVIII.— Cicero >y 506 
 
 How there may be dignity without learning. .......... 516 
 
 Evils of a literary life, a tit 517 
 
 A contrast between men of learning and the ancient he- 
 roes..... 524 
 
 The praise of Sir Launcelot. • 527 
 
 of Edward in the Jerusalem delivered, who 
 
 dies, and for he could not save Gildippe 528 
 
 of the warrior's slain before Thebes, . ....... 529 
 
 Concluding remarks on the contrast. , 533 
 
 Virtue not essentially promoted by mere knowledge. ... 537 
 
 The zeal of the knights 542 
 
 Habits of bodily exertion required •• 548 
 
 The character of youth harmonizes with this principle.. 553 
 
 The pleasures of youth 561 
 
 The duty and advantages of action 572 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ©utfoarti Contrition, kc. 
 
 Riches not necessary to a gentleman. • 575 
 
 What should be his ambition • 577 
 
 Alain Chartier, his contrast between the Court and a life 
 
 of obscurity 583 
 
 The justice of his opinion illustrated from Eustace. . ... . 585 
 
CONTENTE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The evil of refinements consequent upon wealth ........ 588 
 
 The basis of nobility independent of wealth 590 
 
 Self-respect distinguished from pride 594 
 
 Guerin de Montglaive, his notions • 598 
 
 Youth and chivalry careless of riches, luxury, and power 601 
 The admiration of riches grows with the vices of society 608 
 The contrary spirit expressed by Henry V. and Maximi- 
 lian 610 
 
 Love sets aside the desire of riches 612 
 
 Poetry, its value on account of purifying the mind 614 
 
 Poverty no obstacle to merit in a chivalrous age 617 
 
 Friendship not depending upon riches or even birth... . 619 
 The duty and advantage of encouraging and promoting 
 
 virtuous youth of humble fortune , 620 
 
 The chivalrous spirit delights in suffering and obedience 626 
 
 It is independant of riches 628 
 
 The doctrine of gentle birth held by the virtuous in all 
 
 ages 630 
 
 The example of Napoleon, an instance of its truth 636 
 
 Advice to those who are ambitious of honour 638 
 
 The peroration, shewing that the chivalrous spirit is 
 
 more than conqueror • 642 
 
 The address to the gentle reader in conclusion 657 
 
 &ppetttrix 661 
 
£Ik Prologue. 
 
 SEMPER FUIT IDEM 
 
 The following sheets, which have been drawn up 
 for the purpose of instructing youth, and of re- 
 minding maturity, are submitted, with respect 
 and confidence, to the Gentlemen of England, of 
 what rank or estate soever they may be; for 
 although divided in political opinion (subjects 
 upon which I make no comment), they are united 
 upon the common ground of the faith, loyalty, and 
 b 
 
X 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 honour ; and that writer who shall propose to 
 explain the nature, and to enforce the obliga- 
 tions of the duties included under these titles, 
 may be assured that his lessons will be regarded 
 with a favourable ear ; and that the words of the 
 Roman will express the resolution of those who 
 receive them, " aut haec teneamus aut cum digni- 
 tate moriamur ;" since, as is said by the poet, 
 
 rj KaXwg Z,yv, r) KaXwg Tt$vt}Kevai 
 tov evyevfj xpty. 
 
 It is known to all the world, that in ancient 
 times it was the custom of our ancestors, to frame 
 and set forth certain books of ensamples and doc- 
 trines, in every castle of mighty prince, lord, or 
 gentleman, for the study and improvement of the 
 youth which were there brought up in the fear of 
 God, and in loyalty to their king : 
 
 «< In letters, arms, 
 
 Fair mien, discourses, civil exercises, 
 And all the blazon of a gentleman 
 
 ensamples and doctrines which were designed to 
 make the youth of gentle breeding ever mindful 
 of their duties, and of the character which they 
 were expected to support. The principle upon 
 which they rested is explained in these words, by 
 Isocrates. 'Ev woLm to»j sgyoi$ ^i^ao tij* IW*- 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xi 
 
 Now it has been desired by many lords, and 
 divers gentlemen, as well of this realm of Eng- 
 land, as of those famous kingdoms of Ireland and 
 Scotland, now happily united in one mighty em- 
 pire, that some short history and manual might 
 be framed for the use of all the youth of this 
 United Kingdom ; wherein they should be taught 
 the lessons which belong to gentle education, 
 those of piety and heroism, of loyalty, generosity, 
 and honour ; whereby they might be taught, as 
 servants of a British Monarch, to emulate the 
 virtue of their famous ancestors, and as Chris- 
 tian gentlemen, to whom Europe is a common 
 country, to follow the example of those worthies 
 of Christendom, who were the patrons of the 
 Church, the defenders of the poor, and the glory 
 of their times : that so they might be induced to 
 obey that noble and truly chivalrous precept of 
 the Grecian sage, 'civ rag Safes fyfroi$> pipov ras 
 Tr^afgK. It would be idle and presumptuous to 
 tell men of the present age, that they already pos- 
 sess for their instruction the Acts of King Arthur, 
 and of his Knights of the Round Table, the His- 
 tories of Charlemagne, and Godefroy of Bouillon, 
 and many other noble volumes of this description, 
 b 2 
 
xii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 in French and English ; for, sothe to say, these 
 are no longer calculated to answer the purpose 
 for which they were designed. Time changes all 
 things. Manners become obsolete, opinions pass 
 away. 
 
 <( Cuncta fluunt; omnisque vagans formatur imago. " 
 
 These books, which were the delight of our 
 ancestors, and which are now allowed by all com- 
 petent judges to have been favourable to the in- 
 crease of virtue, are but little read by our gene- 
 ration, seeing that the language is hard to be un- 
 derstood ; that in some respects the duties and 
 character of men have changed with the progress 
 of knowledge ; and that, at all events, the truth 
 of these histories is questioned ; albeit that most 
 ingenious printer, who lived in the reign of King 
 Henry the Seventh, was convinced, by many 
 evidences, that " there was a kyng of thys lande 
 named Arthur, and that in al places, Crysten and 
 hethen, he was reputed and taken for one of the 
 ix worthy, and fyrst and chyef of the Cristen 
 men." But this will not content men of our age, 
 even though they could see " his sepulture in the 
 monastery e of Glastyngburye," or " the prynte 
 of his seal at Saynt Edwardes shryne at West- 
 mestre," or even " the rounde table at Wyn- 
 chester," or " Sir Gaunway's skulle in the Castel 
 
THE PROLOGUE. xiii 
 
 at Dover." And therefore it did seem a great 
 pity, that for want of some person to collect 
 what was credible, and suitable to the present 
 age, and worthy of acceptance, out of these and 
 other noble histories, and to collect in like man- 
 ner, ensamples and doctrines out of modern his- 
 tory, the gentle and virtuous deeds of honourable 
 men should be forgotten, their memories sink 
 into the depth and darkness of the earth, and the 
 precious advantage of learning to admire and to 
 emulate such glory, that rich inheritance of a 
 virtuous example, should be lost to ourselves and 
 to our posterity. Wherefore, sith that God has 
 blessed me with leisure, and that long previous 
 habits of seeking instruction and solace from the 
 tomes of chivalry, and of ancient wisdom, must 
 have somewhat qualified me for so great a task, 
 I have enterprized, under the favour and correc- 
 tion of all noble gentlemen and gentlewomen, to 
 frame and imprint a book of ensamples and doc- 
 trines, which I call CDe 13roatr Stone of honour ; 
 seeing that it will be a fortress like that rock 
 upon the Rhine where coward or traitor never 
 stood, which bears this proud title, and is im- 
 pregnable ; where all may stand who love honour 
 and true nobility, — may look down upon their ene- 
 mies, who are vainly plotting in the plain below ; 
 b3 
 
xiv 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 where they may enjoy a purity of feeling, which, 
 like " the liberal air," that surrounds that lofty 
 summit, is free from the infection of a base world. 
 
 — velut rupes, vastum quae prodit in aequor, 
 Obvia ventorum furiis, expostaque ponto, 
 Vim cunctam atque minas perfert coelique marisque, 
 Ipsa immota manens. 
 
 Mark then, I pray you, the strength and excel- 
 lence of this proud fortress. As Cudworth pro- 
 claims of holiness, we hold that " it is in league 
 with God and with the universe, and therefore it 
 must needs be triumphant." Observe also the 
 prodigious, formidable strength of every knight 
 who fights in its defence. What said the Greeks 
 of old ? Asivoq oq Qbovs c&a : but the apostle pro- 
 claims it in a higher strain, " If God be for us, 
 who shall be against us." God sends his blessed 
 angels to encamp about them that fear him ; and 
 how safe and happy must be that Christian warrior 
 who is under the conduct and protection of these 
 wise, good, and mighty spirits ! He may sit down 
 in peace and sing with the Psalmist, " quihabitat 
 in abscondito," &c. " He that dwelleth in the se- 
 cret place of the Most High, shall abide under 
 the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the 
 Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress : his truth 
 shall be my shield and buckler." But how comes 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xv 
 
 the faithful person to be thus secure ? asks Bishop 
 Bull. The Psalmist tells us, " for he shall give 
 his angels charge over thee," &c. Observe too, 
 the dignity with which this service invests him. It 
 appeared to the revilers of Cicero as that of a 
 king : " regium tibi videtur ita vivere, ut non 
 modo homini nemini, sed ne cupiditati quidem 
 ulli servias : contemnere omnes libidines : non 
 auri, non argenti, non ceterarum rerum indigere : } 
 in senatu sentire libere : populi utilitati magis con- 
 sulere quam voluntati : nemini cedere, multis ob- 
 sistere. Si hoc putas esse regium, me regem esse 
 confiteor." Moreover, like the enchanted palace 
 of a chivalrous tale, we have only to wish for this 
 fortress, and it will be ours for ever ! How must 
 Stephen of Colonna, whom Petrarch loved and 
 reverenced for his heroic spirit, have struck dumb 
 with astonishment the base and impotent assail- 
 ants, who thought indeed that he was at length in 
 their power, and so demanded with an air of tri- 
 umph, " where is now your fortress ?" when he 
 laid his hand on his heart, and answered, " Here :" 
 as we read of Bias, when he and his fellow coun- 
 trymen were removing for safety, and every one 
 else had loaded himself with some article of pro- 
 perty, being asked why he did not do the same, — 
 b4 
 
xri 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 M Your wonder is without reason," he replied, 
 11 1 am carrying all my treasures with me." But 
 no doubt all this is fanciful and romantic extrava- 
 gance to our infidel philosophists and men of 
 practical wisdom, who know of nothing, 
 
 " Beyond the senses and their little reign," 
 
 and who despise the antiquated and exploded no- 
 tions, 
 
 u That virtue and the faculties within 
 Are vital,— and that riches are akin 
 To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death \ n 
 
 Nor is it upon a bare and barren rock, without 
 means of delight and refreshment, that I invite 
 you to take your stand against an enemy that will 
 besiege but never conquer you. Within the for- 
 tress of which I here deliver you the keys, you 
 will find scenes of sylvan beauty, of loveliness and 
 grandeur — " the gleam — the shadow — and the 
 peace supreme !" 
 
 Hie ver purpureum, varios hie flumina circum 
 Fundit humus (lores, hie Candida populus antro 
 Imminet, et lentae texunt umbracula vites : 
 Hue ades, insani feriant sine litora fluctus 
 Hie gelidi fontes, hie mollia prata virensque 
 Hie nemus - x hie ipso tecum consumerer sevo.. 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xvii 
 
 Scenes to which the Poet * owed 
 
 — — — that blessed mood, 
 
 In which the burthen of the mystery, 
 In which the heavy and the weary weight 
 Of all this unintelligible world 
 Is lightened: — that serene and blessed mood, 
 In which the affections gently lead us on,— 
 Until, the breath of this corporeal frame 
 And even the motion of our human blood 
 Almost suspended, we are laid asleep 
 In body, and become a living soul ; 
 While with an eye made quiet by the power 
 Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, 
 We see into the life of things. 
 
 Nor let it be supposed that we recommend the 
 visions of a romantic imagination, and seek to 
 raise the soul into some strange and enchanted 
 world which exists but in a dream. No, as Ma- 
 lebranche declares t, " it is not into a strange 
 country that we conduct you, but it is into your 
 own, in which, perhaps, you are a stranger. Men 
 of a certain class accuse us of being misled by the 
 imagination, whereas on the contrary it is they 
 who are deceived by the imagination and the 
 senses. So far are we from taking the imagina- 
 tion for our guide, that we invariably require its 
 
 * Wordsworth. 
 
 f Entret. sur la metaphys, &c. 
 b5 
 
THE PROLOGUE- 
 
 subjection to those powers which have been given 
 to direct us. Believe me," he proceeds, " le 
 stupide et le bel esprit sont • egalement fermez 
 a la verite." But these images, which some men 
 call imaginary, are in fact the only objects sub- 
 stantial, and which are capable of being demon- 
 strated, since about the forms of the material 
 world we in reality know nothing, but by the re- 
 port of a deceitful and imaginary guide. 
 
 Now for this purpose I have collected and dis- 
 posed passages from divers noble volumes in 
 French and other tongues, the which I have seen 
 and read beyond the sea, which be not had in our 
 maternal tongue ; and to make the whole of easy 
 comprehension, I have, with careful labour, drawn 
 out the book into that modern English which is fa- 
 miliar to most readers ; for it was not necessary to 
 maintain the ancient style in these sheets, seeing 
 that virtue neither standeth in the sound of words, 
 nor changeth with the speech of men. Moreover 
 in choosing ensamples and doctrines to illustrate 
 and enrich this book, I have not confined myself 
 to the records of our English history ; for although 
 these alone would doubtless furnish ample mate- 
 rials for a far more complete manual than the 
 present, yet such a restraint would in some degree 
 have defeated the object of my enterprise, seeing 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xix 
 
 that it has always been the pride of chivalry, as it 
 was once of Pythagoras, " ut unus fiat ex pluri- 
 bus," and that it should ever be the desire of those 
 who profess it, to connect by ties of mutual affec- 
 tion and respect, the gentlemen of every country. 
 Polybius, that illustrious soldier and historian, 
 has furnished me with a similar lesson touching 
 the duties of my ministerial office ; for he affirms, 
 that we must often praise our enemies, and dress 
 up their actions to be the objects of the highest 
 admiration, and that on the other hand, there may 
 be occasions when we shall have to censure and 
 loudly condemn our friends, and those who are 
 upon our side. Without doubt in some instances, 
 the learning or experience of my reader will en- 
 able him to substitute for the ensamples which are 
 here given, others that may be more pertinent to 
 the subject, or admirable in themselves. Enough, 
 however, has been done, if his attention be ex- 
 cited, and if he should be induced to make this 
 substitution for the instruction and solace of his 
 own mind. Certes enough has been done to- 
 wards accomplishing the general purpose of im- 
 provement in the career of honour, since it will 
 need but a careless glance over the pages of this 
 book, to justify me in applying the grand words 
 of Manlius Torquatus, to the scenes and images 
 
XX 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 which are here produced, " si tot exempla virtu- 
 tis non movent, nihil umquam movebit." Far 
 indeed am I from hoping to please those men, 
 whose hearts have been blighted and whose souls 
 darkened by that prophane philosophy, as Plato 
 terms it, which is ascribed by Cud worth to a want 
 of consideration, or to a fond and sottish dotage 
 upon corporeal sense, which hath so far imposed 
 upon some, as to make them believe that they have 
 not the least cogitation of any thing not subject 
 to corporeal sense, or that there is nothing in 
 human understanding or conception, which was 
 not first in bodily sense, " a doctrine," says this 
 profound thinker, " highly favourable to atheism," 
 one certainly which is destructive of all chivalry, 
 of all its generous raptures and refining fires, ex- 
 alting and purifying the soul. Nor is the pros- 
 pect altered, when I contemplate the number of 
 men in these days , whose principles of life are 
 taken from that perplexed and monstrous system 
 of moral philosophy or refined selfishness, which 
 has been held and recommended by a numerous 
 class of writers in successive ages of the world, 
 from the Epicureans of old, as represented by 
 Torquatus in Cicero's first book de Finibus, to 
 Hobbes and Paley. The contrary doctrine of the 
 ancient philosophy, as well as of holy Scripture, 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xxi 
 
 will indeed, as Bishop Butler observes, " be called 
 enthusiasm, " not in France alone, where Fenelon 
 proclaimed it, but " every where by the genera- 
 lity of the world." Yet while, to pass over the 
 authority of revelation, it can boast of such cham- 
 pions as Plato and Aristotle among the heathens, 
 and under the Gospel, the first and most illus- 
 trious Fathers of the Church, and in later ages 
 Malebranche and Cudworth, Bull, Butler, and 
 Barrow, while all the glory of chivalry, all the 
 mighty deeds " with which old story rings," bear 
 evidence to its practical excellence and to its di- 
 vine power on the heart of man, certes we need 
 not fear the force of those who are in array against 
 us. Natheless we may lament the extent of the 
 evil which they are enabled to occasion. In these 
 days, alas ! when many an empty head is shaken 
 at Aristotle and Plato, it is little merveill if many 
 a cold heart be insensible to the feelings of chi- 
 valry, and unable to kindle into rapture at the 
 names of Charlemagne and Saint Louis, of Ri- 
 chard and of Henry. Nor can I address these 
 pages with greater confidence to those who trust 
 to dry mathematical reason, which Cudworth de- 
 clares is incapable of giving an assurance of truth 
 to men possessing " minds unpurified, and hav- 
 ing a contrary interest of carnality, and a heavy 
 
xxii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 load of infidelity and distrust sinking them down." 
 I remember once hearing a man of letters express 
 a hope, that some writer of enlightened views, would 
 undertake a 'philosophic history of chivalry, i. e. 
 I presume, that some one by referring to the prin- 
 ciple of Paley and Locke, for the convenience of 
 the English modern philosopher, by submitting to 
 an easy arithmetical process the egotism and self- 
 love of contending individuals, would account for 
 the phenomena of the chivalrous history, and by 
 calculating the effect which the circumstances of 
 those ages w r ere calculated to produce upon the 
 senses, and through them upon the mind and 
 heart, would determine the exact material or hu- 
 man causes and natural motives which gave rise 
 to this devoted spirit, or, as in strictness it should 
 be termed, to this calculating balance of interests, 
 which produced the piety of Saint Louis, and the 
 generosity of Bayard. Such a treatise would no 
 doubt be an acquisition to the philosophic litera- 
 ture of this century, and it would be highly cu- 
 rious to men of piety and virtue, as exposing the 
 profound depth of that moral degradation into 
 which the irreligious part of the literary and sci- 
 entific world is at this day fallen. " Or il n'y a que 
 1'esprit religieux qui puisse guerir cette maladie." 
 In these words, the Count De Maitre points out 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xxiii 
 
 the only remedy ; for it is religion, which teaches 
 the dignity of the human soul ; which convinces 
 man that there are other things in heaven and 
 earth besides those which are objected to his 
 senses ; which declares self-love to be " the capi- 
 tal and leading vice, the apostle placing it in the 
 van." " Is there not," asks Barrow, the christian 
 teacher, " to all men in some measure, to some 
 men in a higher degree, a generosity innate, most 
 lovely and laudable to all ; which disposeth men 
 with their own pain, hazard, and detriment, to 
 succour and relieve others in distress ? The frame 
 of our nature indeed speaketh, that we are not 
 born for ourselves ; we shall find man, if we con- 
 template him, to be a nobler thing than to have 
 been designed to serve himself, or to satisfy his 
 single pleasure ; his endowments are too excel- 
 lent, his capacities too large, for so mean and nar- 
 row a purpose. How pitiful a creature were man 
 if this were all he was made for ! how sorry a fa- 
 culty were reason, if it served not to better uses ! 
 he debaseth himself, he disgraceth his nature who 
 hath so low conceits." Moreover, the whole doc- 
 trine of chivalry is altogether a religious doctrine. 
 Under various forms and in different degrees, it 
 has always flourished wherever a sense of religion 
 has prevailed : and in every instance where the 
 
xxiv 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 spirit of impiety, avarice, and corruption has per- 
 vaded a nation, as was the case with the states 
 of Greece in their decline, and with Rome in 
 the latter ages, this doctrine, and with it all its 
 generous connections, have invariably yielded to 
 the contrary influence of scepticism, riches, and 
 profligacy. 
 
 The propriety of classical allusions in a book 
 of this kind, will be obvious to every reader who 
 is conversant with the chivalrous writers. They 
 indeed give the substance of their information in 
 French or English, but at the present day it would 
 be insulting the reader, not to present him with 
 the original passages. Moreover, the chivalrous 
 writers during the middle ages, in recording the 
 virtue of those gentle knights, Sir Hector, Sir 
 Ajax, and Alexander, only assumed that they 
 were gentle and chivalrous like themselves, but I 
 hope in this book, to bring forward evidence suf- 
 ficient to prove that this character, as far as was 
 possible without the influence of our holy faith, 
 did actually in many instances distinguish them. 
 
 Let us take a specimen of the kind of evidence 
 which will be brought forward hereafter, that the 
 reader may have some idea of what he is to ex- 
 pect, and what degree of certainty is attainable 
 on this very interesting subject. And here, with- 
 
THE PROLOGUE. xxv 
 
 out bringing forward the splendid proofs and il- 
 lustrations that will be more suitable in a future 
 place, I shall content myself, for the present, with 
 producing a few extracts from the Greek tragedy 
 of Rhesus, which will be sufficient to make you 
 admit the possibility of proving, that many of the 
 peculiar features and opinions appertaining to 
 chivalry, belonged also in a very eminent degree 
 to the ancient heroes. For in the first place, to 
 view the more unfavourable side of their charac- 
 ter, that which is termed their ignorance and in- 
 temperate zeal, observe the charge which iEneas 
 here intimates against Ajax : 
 
 tiQ' rjaQ' dvrjp evtovXog, wg dpaaai x*9 l \ 
 a\V ov yap dvrog ttclvt e7n<TTa<jQat, /3porwv 
 irtfpvKtv aXXy d' aXXo irpoGKUTai yepag, 
 <roi fiev naxe<r9ai, roig $e [iovXevsiv KaX<og, 
 
 Thus king Arthur's knights, as we shall see in 
 another place, " could no counceil gyve, but said 
 they were bygge enough." Now mark the doc- 
 trine of nobility in the testimony of Hector to the 
 parentage and virtues of Dolon, who volunteers 
 in a most perilous service for his country, 
 
 ircLTpoQ de Kai Trpiv evicXta fiofiov 
 
 vvv dig TO<Tu>g tQrjicag tvKXeeuTtpov. 
 
 Again, observe the noble spirit of this Dolon, 
 
xxvi 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 who scorns the offer of riches and title and splen- 
 did alliance, as the reward for his service, but de- 
 mands for his prize tovq wwovq 'Ap^x^* having 
 previously had the promise of Hector, that his 
 petition should be granted. This gives rise to 
 another display of chivalry, for the possession of 
 these horses was the grand object of Hector's am- 
 bition, as he informs him in reply, 
 
 Kai firjv kpcjvTi y dvrepag t7T7rwi/ kfioi* 
 
 he concludes, however, with these noble words : 
 
 dXX* ov or' kirapag ityevaonai* d(o(T(o de aoi 
 kclXXhttov oikoiq Krrjfi 'AxiXXecjg oxov. 
 
 And now mark the generosity and frankness dis- 
 played by Hector, when having reason to suspect 
 and condemn the conduct of Rhesus in coming to 
 the army when the danger seemed to be over, he 
 does not conceal his feelings, and so permit dis- 
 pleasure against his old friend and ally to rankle 
 in his breast, but immediately upon their first 
 meeting, he thus accosts him : 
 
 izai t?]q ptXydov firirepog, Movguv [xiag 
 OpyKog re 7rorafiov, Srpv/xovog, 0iXw Xeyeiv 
 rdXtjOeg aei s kov SnrXovg irttyvK avrjp. 
 irdXai, ttoXcli %pr\v ryds cvyKafivuv xOovi 
 
 tXQovra, ■ 
 
 ravQ\ tjg av hdyg "E/crop 7 bvr kXsvOepov, 
 Kai fiefMpoficu aoi Kai Xtyw Kar o\i\na aov. 
 
THE PROLOGUE. xxvii 
 
 Nor let us overlook that chivalrous sentiment, so 
 nobly pronounced by Rhesus ; 
 
 dvSeig dvrjp €#^/v%0£ a£«u \a9pa 
 Kruvai rov exQpov, a\X' iu)v Kara <rrofia, 
 
 And lastly, when Hector is accused of treachery 
 by a stranger, observe how he appeals with noble 
 simplicity and confidence to those who had known 
 his former life, and could bear testimony to his 
 reproachless fame. 
 
 Here, then, I conceive there is, within the com- 
 pass of this short tragedy, evidence sufficient at 
 least to justify our brave ancestors for speaking 
 with such confidence of these ancient heroes, as 
 being noble and chivalrous like themselves. Still, 
 however, we must not attempt from any love of a 
 preconceived theory to prove too much, for it is 
 quite certain, as must be known fully to all who 
 are impartial observers of antiquity, that chivalry 
 derived some of its highest virtues from Chris- 
 tianity, for a single example of which, or of any 
 thing at all approaching to them, we should in 
 vain search the whole of Pagan records, from the 
 description of the wanderers of the desert by He- 
 rodotus, to that by Thucydides and Livy of the 
 most accomplished heroes of Greece and Rome. 
 
 This book, then, is directed unto all noble 
 
xxviii THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 princes, lords, and gentlemen, who delight in 
 honour and in virtue, which are the true orna- 
 ments of gentle blood ; as well as to all Christian 
 men, who are friends to the present and everlast- 
 ing interests of mankind. In addressing his in- 
 struction chiefly to noble princes and gentlemen, 
 a writer may look forward to a double advantage 
 resulting from his labours, ol (jlbv y»p rov; IhaTetq 
 TrcuhvovTiS, says Isocrates, ixcu'ovs povov uQihovauf* 
 il J« rw$ xpotrovvrocq rov tt^ijGoi;? tir upBTvjv w^o- 
 
 rtia$ sxpvraq %a.% rovq vif avrots ovra,^* Truly I will 
 say of this book, what Sir Thomas Maleore pro- 
 nounced of his history, " Me thynketh this pre- 
 sent boke is ryght necessary often to be redde. 
 For in it shal ye fynde the gracious, knyghtly, 
 and virtuous werre of moost noble knyghtes of 
 the worlde, whereby they gate praysing conty- 
 nuall. Also me semyth by the oft redying there- 
 of, ye shal gretely desyre to custome yourself in 
 followynge those gracyous knyghtly dedes ; that 
 is to saye, to drede God, and love ryghtwiseness, 
 feythfully and courageously to serve your sove- 
 rayne prynce. And the more that God hath 
 geven you the tryumphall honour, the meker ye 
 oughte to be ; ever feryng the unstablyness of 
 this dysceyvable worlde." Seeing also that it is 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xxix 
 
 a study which forsaketh subtil and. knotty inqui- 
 sitions, which expandeth the heart, developeth its 
 sensations, and filleth the mind with wonder and 
 admiration, with splendid and illustrious objects, 
 I might add and urge the authority of the pro- 
 found Bacon, that it tendeth to cherish nature, 
 to secure health of body and a long and happy 
 life. Yet must it be confessed that in the course 
 of this labour I have been drawn on to handle 
 some subjects which, to be enjoyed, will require 
 other peculiar qualities besides these of faith and 
 high virtue. They who would comprehend and 
 delight in these parts must learn, if they be old, 
 as Cicero says, " repuerascere," and if young, to 
 exercise the feelings of youth, not to anticipate 
 the prudence and distrust and sagacity of the old, 
 " odi puerulum praecoci sapientia." It is a wise 
 precept, "miscerestultitiam consiliis," which must 
 be put in practice here. We must lay aside all 
 that harsh and acrimonious and proud wisdom 
 which constitutes the worldly wise : we must have 
 some enthusiasm, and much simplicity, more 
 imagination and innocence than discernment and 
 experience of mankind, putting on " bowels of 
 mercies, kindness, and humbleness of mind," 
 having hearts susceptible, in the highest degree, 
 of generous and tender feelings, of admiration, 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 and love, and pity ; we must be content to humble 
 ourselves, as the Holy Scripture teacheth, and 
 even to become as little children. 
 
 " For folk of other mould right well I wot, 
 3 Tis all time lost ; they comprehend me not." 
 
 In the intellectual as well as in the political 
 world there is a certain harmony and union be- 
 tween the highest and the lowest classes, founded 
 upon principles and feelings which the interme- 
 diate ranks are either unable or unwilling to com- 
 prehend, but which being, as it were, taught by 
 nature to the unsophisticated heart of man, are 
 generally popular, and being, at the same time, 
 sanctioned by religion and true philosophy, and 
 connected, in some degree, with eminent quali- 
 ties of soul, are therefore held and experienced, 
 in all ages of the world, by men who are distin- 
 guished from their contemporaries by extraordi- 
 nary genius and virtue. When Hannibal, upon 
 leaving Italy, drew near to the African coast, and 
 was anxious to determine the place where he 
 should land, he ordered a sailor to the mast- top, 
 to examine the country, who being asked what 
 he saw, answered, " the ruins of a tomb upon an 
 eminence." Hannibal sailed on.—" What strange 
 ominous abodings and fears," says Bishop Bull, 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xxxi 
 
 " do many times, on a sudden, seize upon men, 
 of approaching evils, whereof at present there is 
 no visible appearance ! And have we not had 
 some unquestionable instances of men not in- 
 clined to melancholy, strongly and unalterably 
 persuaded of the near approach of their death, so 
 as to be able punctually to tell the very day of it, 
 when they have been in good health, and neither 
 themselves nor their friends could discern any 
 present natural cause for such a persuasion, and 
 yet the event hath proved that they were not mis- 
 taken ? And although I am no doater on dreams, 
 yet I verily believe, that some dreams are moni- 
 tory, above the power of fancy, and impressed on 
 us by some superior influence. For of such dreams 
 we have plain and undeniable instances in history, 
 both sacred and profane, and in our own age and 
 observation. Nor shall I so value the laughter 
 of sceptics, and the scoffs of the epicureans, as 
 to be ashamed to profess that I myself have had 
 some convincing experiments of such impressions. 
 Now it is no enthusiasm, but the best account 
 that can be given of them, to ascribe these things 
 to the ministry of the angels of God." About 
 sixty years ago, Colonel Wolfe resolved upon giv- 
 ing to one of his tenants a house which stood in 
 a retired part of his woods, and had been for a 
 
xxxii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 long time quite deserted, and almost unknown 
 to the people of the neighbourhood. This man, 
 who had every reason to congratulate himself 
 upon his acquisition, and had accepted of the 
 present with gratitude, came the day after the 
 first night in which he had occupied the house, 
 and informed Colonel Wolfe that he could inhabit 
 it no longer. Upon being interrogated as to the 
 grounds of so strange a resolution, he said, with 
 a tone of sincerity, which commanded attention, 
 that upon lying down to sleep, a sensation of hor- 
 ror, quite indescribable, had seized him, and that 
 all his endeavours to rally his spirits, and to ba- 
 nish the impression from his mind, which had 
 quite exhausted his bodily frame, had failed, and 
 that no earthly consideration, " not the Colonel's 
 coach and six horses" should induce him to spend 
 another night under the same roof. It was found 
 useless to contend with this decision, and impos- 
 sible to prevent its publicity. The statement had 
 excited the laughter of some, the curiosity of 
 others, and the horror of all. No person could 
 be procured that would undertake the charge of 
 the house ; and after a short interval orders were 
 given that it should be pulled down. Upon 
 breaking up the floor of the sleeping apartment, 
 the workmen discovered, within six inches of the 
 
THE PROLOGUE. xxxiii 
 
 surface, and precisely under the spot where the 
 bed of the late occupier had been placed, a dead 
 body, the flesh and the clothes nearly decayed, 
 but which was recognized by means of a certain 
 silver buckle, belonging to a stock, which was 
 lying on the neck of the body, to be that of a 
 pedlar, who had been missing, under suspicious 
 circumstances, for six months before. There 
 were other strange stories related at the time, 
 and upon sufficient evidence too, with respect to 
 the appearance of this pedlar, when he must have 
 been dead, to some children going to school, at 
 the door of a house belonging to a woman who 
 was found afterwards to be in possession of his 
 property, and who fled from the country under 
 suspicion of having murdered him ; but these I 
 need not relate here, for the above statement is 
 sufficient, and its truth is beyond all question, 
 although the reader must take it upon my autho- 
 rity. Democritus and some others of the ancient 
 atheists, less bold than their successors in this 
 age, acknowledged the fact of certain idols or 
 spectres ttSlwXa wo. having appeared to men, but 
 they evaded the argument by denying that they 
 were immortal spirits ; and Cudworth endeavours 
 to vindicate the historic truth of the phenomena 
 of apparitions, and the ancient divination against 
 c 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 atheists, who " obstinately denying matter of fact 
 and history, will needs impute these things" to, 
 &c. &c. The great Isaac Barrow speaks ex- 
 pressly on the same side, as indeed all writers of 
 necessity must speak, who are of the same school. 
 He says, that " concerning apparitions from an- 
 other world, spirits haunting persons and places, 
 visions made unto persons of especial eminency 
 and influence, presignifications of future events 
 by dreams," &c. &c. he that shall affirm all 
 such things to be mere fiction and delusion, must 
 thereby, with exceeding immodesty and rudeness, 
 charge the world both with extreme vanity and ma- 
 lignity; many, if not all, worthy historians of 
 much inconsiderateness or fraud ; most lawgivers 
 of great silliness and rashness ; most judicatories 
 of high stupidity or " cruelty ; a vast number of 
 witnesses of the greatest malice or madness ; all 
 which have concurred to assert these matters of 
 fact. He concludes with a remark which, from 
 its importance and immediate relation to our own 
 subject, I must beg leave here to transcribe, 
 " They are much mistaken who place a kind of 
 wisdom in being very incredulous, and unwilling 
 to assent to any testimony, how full and clear 
 soever : for this indeed is not wisdom, but the 
 worst kind of folly. — Compare we, I say, these 
 two sorts of fools ; the credulous fool, who yields 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 his assent hastily, upon any slight ground, and 
 the suspicious fool, who never will be stirred by 
 any the strongest reason or clearest testimony ; 
 we shall find the latter, in most respects the worst 
 of the two ; that his folly arises from worse 
 causes, hath worse adjuncts, produceth worse 
 effects. Credulity may spring from an airy com- 
 plexion, or from a modest opinion of one's self ; 
 suspiciousness hath its birth from an earthy tem- 
 per of body, or from self-conceit in the mind : 
 that carries with it being civil and affable, and 
 apt to correct an error ; with this a man is in- 
 tractable, unwilling to hear, stiff and incorrigible 
 in his ignorance or mistake : that begets speed 
 and alacrity in action ; this renders a man heavy 
 and dumpish, slow and tedious in his resolutions 
 and in his proceedings : both include want of 
 judgment ; but this pretending to more thereof, 
 becomes thereby more dangerous. Forward rash- 
 ness, which is the same with that, may some- 
 times, like an acute disease, undo a man sooner ; 
 but stupid dotage, little differing from this, is 
 like a chronical distemper, commonly more mis- 
 chievous, and always more hard to cure." The 
 intelligent reader will not require to be told that 
 these, and similar considerations, pressed upon 
 his attention in various parts of this book, are 
 strictly in connection with the precise subject 
 c 2 
 
xxxvi THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 upon which I profess to treat : he is aware that 
 opinions of the kind here maintained, and chi- 
 valry, have the same common enemies ; and that 
 it is impossible to defend the one without endea- 
 vouring to maintain the other ; he is convinced 
 that the spirit of the epicurean, or the Sadducee, 
 must be, at all times, in direct opposition to the 
 whole doctrine of chivalry ; and therefore he will 
 acknowledge that it becomes my indispensable 
 duty to guard the inexperienced and inconside- 
 rate from its baneful and fatal influence. In 
 chivalry, as in childhood, there is a vital prin- 
 ciple " from every-day forms educing the un- 
 known and the uncommon. In that little Goshen 
 there w T ill be light, when the grown world floun- 
 ders about in the darkness of sense and mate- 
 riality a n d while chivalry and childhood shall 
 be left, imagination and piety shall not have 
 spread their holy wings totally to fly the earth. 
 
 With respect to the necessity which calls for 
 some work of this kind, I need speak but few 
 w r ords. So long ago as in 1351, the ordinance 
 of the French King John, which was published 
 on creating the chivalrous order of the star, com- 
 plained of the gentlemen of that age, (it was the 
 natural consequence of those internal distractions 
 which had corrupted the heart of the nation) 
 
 * Elia. 
 
THE PROLOGUE. xxxvii 
 
 saying that they departed from the virtue of their 
 ancestors, " honoris et famse proh dolor ! ne- 
 glecta pulchritudine ad utilitatem privatam liben- 
 tius declinantes." Now without entering upon 
 any painful retrospect, or comparison, it may be 
 sufficient to observe, that as a nation advances in 
 wealth, to say nothing of any departure from the 
 ancient principles of religion and philosophy, it 
 is but natural to expect a pernicious influence 
 extending itself even over the higher classes, and 
 it is therefore but common prudence to provide 
 against it some counteracting force. This consi- 
 deration, at once, will suggest the extreme im- 
 portance of the present undertaking. Much, in- 
 deed, may be expected from all writings which 
 are directed, with any ordinary degree of skill, 
 against this growing infection, provided we can 
 induce readers to co-operate with the authors 
 they read, for be it well remembered, that more 
 will depend upon the use to which men apply 
 their reading, than upon the actual information 
 which the same may convey. When this book is 
 perused, let the reader remember these words of 
 Aristotle, to teAo$ i?%t 9 ov yv&)a^ 9 ooXK Tr^ctf^* If 
 from these pages, as from those of a fictitious 
 tale, he do not rise more ready to endure and to 
 perform, if he suffer the impression made by 
 c3 
 
 i 
 
xxxviii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 what he reads to subside without leading him to 
 practise those actions which the feeling was in- 
 tended to produce, in that case, the whole end of 
 this labour will prove to be nothing, or indeed 
 worse than nothing, for it would, in every view, 
 have been better for him never to have heard of 
 these things, than having heard of them, to fall 
 short in obedience to w T hat they require. The 
 high and delicate sensibilities of the soul are not 
 to be played upon, and then laid aside, w r ith im- 
 punity. If they be thus tampered with they will 
 assuredly, in a short time, become feeble and de- 
 ranged, and utterly unfit for any purpose for 
 which they were designed and given. Moreover 
 it is impossible that the end obtained by these 
 labours should be at all answerable to our neces- 
 sities, if the reader shall content himself with a 
 hasty perusal of these records, and then having 
 contracted that thirst for novelty, that restless 
 craving for the wonders of the day, " which," 
 says Mr. Coleridge, " in conjunction with the 
 appetite for publicity, is spreading like an efflo- 
 rescence on the surface of our national character," 
 shall throw aside the book, knowing its contents, 
 and so imitate that unhappy victim, who albeit 
 the scene was sweet, yet soon he thought to flee, 
 
 To quit, for ever quit, 
 
 A scene of peace, though soothing to his soul. 
 
THE PROLOGUE. xxxix 
 
 That this book may be of use it must be the 
 subject not of one reading, but of thought and 
 repeated attention. Improvement, and not no- 
 velty, is what it endeavours to afford. Therefore 
 I have collected, out of various writings, what- 
 ever furnished, in the most striking manner, the 
 instruction which I designed to convey, whether 
 these passages were familiar or but little known, 
 
 ia-irsq Ik wfMsiov wgotpegyq. It is absolutely neces- 
 sary, as Malebranche says, that the readers 
 should be " comme penetres de ce que je viens 
 de dire. II ne suffit pas qu'ils me croient sur 
 ma parole, ni qu'ils en soient persuade par l'eelat 
 d'une lumiere passagere : il est necessaire qu'ils 
 le sachent par mille experiences et mille demon- 
 strations incontestables. II faut que ces verites 
 (that these lessons and ensamples) ne se puissent 
 jamais effacer de leur esprit et qu'elles leur soient 
 presentes dans toutes les occupations de leur 
 vie." &f)e ISroatr Stone of honour being a collec- 
 tion of those rules and doctrines, which have been 
 received in all ages of chivalry, by the members 
 of our order, to them I may say, with confidence, 
 that it is a book of laws and of authority TOYS 
 AOrOYS TOYS EMOYS NOMOYS 'EINAI NOMI- 
 ZONTES nEIPASOE TOYTOIS 'EMMENEIN. 
 C 4 
 
xl 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 It may be proper to offer some general obser- 
 vations, in this place, touching the character of 
 the works from which chiefly I have derived my 
 materials. The declamations of the modern phi- 
 losophic writers on history were, in the first place, 
 passed by with the contempt, and even with the 
 horror, which the world is beginning to evince 
 for deceivers of this kind. But history in gene- 
 ral, and that of the middle ages in particular, pre- 
 sented, of course, the most fruitful ground for 
 the exercise of my labours. And here I must 
 call my reader's attention to the benefit which may 
 be derived from consulting these original histo- 
 rians who present such lively portraits of ancient 
 chivalry, and to whose candour and love of truth 
 their infidel transcribers of these days are in- 
 debted for all the information which they so 
 proudly present, as if it were to them that the 
 world was indebted for the discovery. There is 
 now before me a volume of extracts from the La- 
 tin historians of the middle ages *, and from these 
 attractive pages I will now select a few passages, 
 both for the purpose of inducing you to cultivate 
 
 * Raumer's Handbuch Merkwurdiger Stellen aus 
 den Lateinischen Gesehichtschreibern des Mittelal- 
 ters.— Breslau, 1813. 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xli 
 
 a more intimate acquaintance with writers of this 
 class, and also of producing that general temper 
 and impression of mind which may be favourable 
 to the reception of the lessons contained in this 
 book. Turn we then to the last advice of Char- 
 lemagne to his son, as related by Theganus. 
 " In prima die dominica ornavit se cultu regis, et 
 coronam capiti suo imposuit, incedebat clare ves- 
 titus et ornatus, sicut eum decuerat. Perrexit ad 
 ecclesiam, quam ipse a fundamentis construxerat, 
 pervenitque ante altare, super quod coronam 
 auream, aliam quam ipse gestabat in capite suo, 
 jussit poni. Postquam diu oraverunt ipse et 
 filius ejus, locutus est ad filium suum coram omni 
 multitudine pontificum et optimatum suorum, 
 ammonens eum, imprimis omnipotentem deum 
 diligere et timere, ejus praecepta servare in omni- 
 bus, ecclesias dei gubernare et defendere a pravis 
 hominibus. — Deinde sacerdotes honorare ut pa- 
 tres, populum diligere ut filios — Fideles minis- 
 tros et deum timentes constituerat, qui munera 
 injusta odio haberent : — semetipsum omni tem- 
 pore coram deo et omni populo, irreprehensibilem 
 demons traret." Now mark the religious cha- 
 racter of his son Louis, " Erat tardus ad irascen- 
 dum, facilis ad miserandum. Quotiens mane in 
 c 5 
 
xlii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 cottidianis diebus ad ecclesiam perrexerat causa 
 orationis, flexis genibus fronte tetigit pavimen- 
 tum, humiliter diu orans, aliquando cum lacry- 
 mis ; et omnibus moribus bonis semper ornatus — 
 Nunquam aureo resplenduit indumento, nisi tan- 
 tum in summis festivitatibus sicut patres ejus 
 solebant agere. — Quotidie ante cibum eleemosy- 
 narum largitionem exhibuit, et ubicumque erat, 
 xenodochia secum habebat." The alliance be- 
 tween the heroic and the religious spirit may be 
 strikingly observed in the custom of the English, 
 as related by Ingulfus, in these words : " Anglo- 
 rum erat consuetudo, quod, qui militiae legitime 
 consecrandus esset, vespera praecedente diem suae 
 consecrationis, ad episcopum vel abbatem, vel 
 monachum, vel sacerdotem aliquem contritus et 
 compunctus de omnibus suis peccatis confessio- 
 nem faceret, et absolutus, orationibus et devo- 
 tionibus et afflictionibus deditus, in ecclesia per- 
 noctaret ; in crastino quoque missam auditurus, 
 gladium super altare offerret, et post evangelium, 
 sacerdos benedictum gladium collo militis cum 
 benedictione imponeret ; et communicatus ad ean- 
 dem missam, sacris Christi mysteriis, denuo miles 
 legitimus permaneret." What breast will not 
 kindle into generous enthusiasm at the words of 
 
THE PROLOGUE. xliii 
 
 Pope Urban to the French nobles in the council 
 of Clermont, as related by Robert, when the 
 Pontiff reminded them of the crimes of the Sara- 
 cens, saying that of these, " loqui deter ius est 
 quam silere," and demanding " quibus igitur ad 
 hoc ulciscendum, ad hoc eripiendum, labor in- 
 cumbit, nisi vobis, quibus prae cseteris gentibus 
 contulit Dominus insigne decus armorum, mag- 
 nitudinem animorum, agilitatem corporum ? mo- 
 veant vos," he continued, " et incitent animos 
 vestros ad virilitatem, gesta praedeeessorum, pro- 
 bitas et magnitudo Caroli magni regis, et Ludo- 
 vici filii ejus, aliorumque regum vestrorum : 
 qui regna Turcorum destruxerunt et in eis lines 
 sanctae ecclesiae dilitaverunt. Pressertim moveat 
 vos sanctum Domini nostri salvatoris sepulchrum 
 quod ab immundis gentibus possidetur, et loca 
 sancta, quae nunc inhoneste tractantur, et irreve- 
 renter eorum immundiciis sordidantur. O for- 
 tissimi milites, et invictorum propago parentum, 
 nolite degenerare, sed virtu tes majorum vestro- 
 rum reminiscimini.' , Mark the character of Tan- 
 cred, given by Radulphus, " Tancredus clarae 
 stirpis germen clarissimum, parentes eximios Mar- 
 chisum habuit, et Em mam :— ipsum nec paternae 
 opes ad lasciviam, nec ad superbiam traxit po- 
 c 6 
 
xliv 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 tentia cognatorum. Adhuc adolescens juvenes 
 agilitate armorum, morum gravitate senes tran- 
 scendebat : nunc hie, nunc illis novum virtutis 
 spectaculum. Ex tunc praeceptorum Dei sedulus 
 anditor, summopere studebat, et audita recolligere 
 et quantum permittebat coaevorum conversatio, 
 recollecta implere, nemini detrahere, etiam cum 
 sibi detrahebatur, dignabatur : immo hosticae stre- 
 nuitatis praeco, aiebat, hostem feriendum esse, 
 non rodendum : proinde somnos vigil iis, quietem 
 labori, satietatem fami, otium studio, postremo 
 superflua omnia necessariis postponebat : nec suo 
 parcebat sanguini, nec hostili." Again, let us 
 take the character of Henry I. of England, from 
 William of Malmesbury. " Hanc curam vel pri- 
 mam vel maximam boni principis philosophia pro- 
 ponit, ut parcat subjectis, et debellet superbos 
 and yet, ' 1 vincebat, si poterat, sanguine nullo 
 si aliter non poterat, pauco." What must have 
 been the virtue of Rainulphus, whose death ex- 
 cited that general affliction described by Falco ! 
 " O quantus luctus omnium civitatem illam in- 
 vasit! Lugebant ducem piissimum, et patrem 
 universorum, qui totius sui ducatus habenas dul- 
 cedine, et humanitatis suavitate, disponebat, — 
 sicque tota fere Italia de ejus probitate et prceliis, 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xlv 
 
 horis omnibus recitabat." What a lively portrait 
 of Frederic I. of his person and his manners, is 
 given by Rodericus ? " Lactea cutis, et quae ju- 
 venili rubore sufTundantur, eumqui illi crebro co- 
 lore non ira, sed verecundia facit. — Bellorum 
 amator, sed ut per ea pax acquiratur. Ipse manu 
 promptus, consilio validissimus, supplicantibus 
 exorabilis, propitius in fide receptis. Si actionem 
 diuturnam forinsecus perquiras, antelucanos ba- 
 silicarum et sacerdotum suorum ccetus, aut solus 
 aut minimo comitatu expetit, eosque tarn grandi 
 sedulitate veneratur, ut omnibus I talis, erga epis- 
 copos et cleros servandi honorem et reverentiam, 
 ipse formam et exemplum tribuerit. — Si vena- 
 tionibus exercetur, in equis, in canibus, accipitri- 
 bus, cseterisque ejus generis avibus, instituendis, 
 spectandis circumferendis, nulli secundus. In 
 birsando ipsemet arcum tendit, spicula capit, im- 
 plet, expellit. Elligis quod feriat, quod elegeris 
 ferit. — Erga familiares suos in proferendo allo- 
 quio non minax, nec in admittendo consilio sper- 
 nax.— * Scrip tur as et antiquorum gesta sedulo per- 
 quirit. Eleemosynas in ministerio pauperum 
 plerumque ipse manu sua distribuit." This must 
 be sufficient as to the character of the historians 
 whom I have consulted for the composition of 
 
xlvi 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 this book ; but I must add a few words touch- 
 ing the writers of romance, whose works have 
 come down to our age, and the benefit which 
 may be derived from them. When I undertook 
 to arrange and set forth this book, it was not 
 from a blind conceit that the works of examples 
 and recreation, which were the instruction and 
 delight of our forefathers, were become abso- 
 lutely obsolete and useless ; this could hardly be, 
 indeed, unless Christian faith, virtue and honour, 
 were become obsolete and useless : unless love, 
 courtesy, humanity, friendship, generosity and 
 heroism, were no longer to be cherished and re- 
 verenced by mankind. The writer of these pages 
 is desirous of expressing his gratitude for the 
 high gratification which he has derived from the 
 labours of these ancient compilers, and at the 
 same time of recommending his reader to culti- 
 vate a taste for works which will assuredly exalt 
 his imagination and correct his heart; works 
 which can delight the poet and instruct the sage, 
 which could yield inspiration to the genius of 
 Milton and of Dante, where the student who has 
 fathomed the depths of Platonic lore, will behold 
 in action the sublime principles of his divine phi- 
 losophy, and to which even the plebeian mind of 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xlvii 
 
 Locke * could turn, as we are told, with delight, 
 exemplifying (to those who hold that education 
 and habits of thinking create all the essential dif- 
 ferences which distinguish one man from another,) 
 the truth of that well known line, 
 
 Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret. 
 
 Take as an instance the first volume of the ro- 
 mance, entitled " l'Histoire du petit Jehan de 
 Saintre." Is that frivolous and dangerous read- 
 ing, it may be asked, which teaches him to com- 
 bine the most amiable, the most exalted senti- 
 ments of which human nature is susceptible, with 
 the faith and practice of Christianity ? Which 
 teaches him to separate what is innocent and 
 noble from the abuse and perversion of men, and 
 thus to satisfy the heart while he saves his soul ? 
 Can that reading be of an injurious tendency 
 which inculcates the discharge of every religious 
 and moral duty, as essential to the character of 
 a gentleman, of a hero, of a lover ? Which 
 proves, that by every motive which can exert an 
 influence upon a young and generous heart, he 
 is induced to detest and avoid pride, anger, envy, 
 
 * Plebeii videntur appellandi omnes philosophi qui 
 a Platone et Socrate et ab ea familia dissident. Cicero. 
 Tuscul. I, 23. 
 
xlviii THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 avarice, sloth, intemperance, luxury and licen- 
 tiousness, that he is delivered from them " il est 
 quicte, franc et sauve ?" Is the influence of that 
 lesson to be disregarded which the dame des 
 belles Cousines gives to Saintre, recommending 
 the form of invocation which he must daily use 
 before the commencement of his enterprize, " que 
 sur le point de desmarcher pour faire vos armes 
 soit a pied, soit a cheval, vous mesme de bon 
 cceur, en faissant le signe de la croix, faictes en 
 disant. 
 
 ' Benedieat mihi Dominus et custodiat me, 
 Ostendat mihi faciem suam Dominus et misereatur 
 mei. 
 
 Convertat Dominus vultum suum ad me et det mihi 
 pacem.' 
 
 Et lors partez seurement, et faictes vertueuse- 
 ment ce que devez faire, car par ainsi, ne pour- 
 rez faire chose, gaigne ou perte, que tout ne soit 
 a honneur ?" 
 
 Montesquieu has said, that if he could propose 
 any new motive to render men religious and vir- 
 tuous, he would regard himself as the most happy 
 of men. And St. Paul has evidently sanctioned 
 the policy of making our feelings and imagination 
 to influence our conduct in subservience to the 
 Christian faith, where he says to the Philippians, 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 xlix 
 
 " Whatsoever things are lovely ; whatsoever 
 things are of good report, if there be any virtue, 
 and if there be any praise, think on these things. " 
 Here then are new motives, here is additional in- 
 ducement, an influence to which none but the base 
 and unmanly can be insensible. Guided by these 
 examples, youth may learn that the object of its 
 pride and happiness is to be obtained by virtue ; 
 that the image which is beheld with all the rap- 
 ture of imagination, is to be approached in the 
 discharge of duty ; and that while infidelity may 
 present its temptations to the senses, whatever the 
 heart holds dear in time and in eternity, is con- 
 nected with our faith in Christ. But I cannot 
 leave this subject without directing your attention 
 to a peculiar feature in these ancient writings, 
 which operating as a human cause, led the way to 
 the glories of chivalry and to this regeneration of 
 the human race. The religion of the Gospel se- 
 cured the purity and the elevation of the female 
 heart, and it was the consequent influence of wo- 
 men, that empire which they obtained by the 
 power of virtue, meekness, and innocence, over 
 the wild affections of our brave ancestors, which 
 effected this marvellous revolution in the moral 
 history of the world. In the course of this book, 
 I shall have occasion to speak at large upon the 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 influence of chivalry upon the female sex ; for the 
 present, let it only be remembered what a debt of 
 gratitude is due to these productions of genius, 
 purified and exalted by contemplating the model 
 which it pleased God should be held forth for the 
 refinement of the human soul, which taught women 
 to look upon and ponder in their hearts, that 
 image of innocence and love, and heavenly sere- 
 nity, the ever blessed mother of the holy Jesus, 
 in terms and simplicity that would not be un- 
 worthy of the purified and beautiful imagination 
 of the sublime Taylor. " The Virgin in her ora- 
 tory, private and devout, receiving a grace which 
 the greatest queens would have purchased with 
 the quitting of their diadems, was held up as an 
 ensample to all women, that they should accustom 
 themselves often to those retirements where none 
 but God and his angels can have admittance, that 
 the holy Jesus might come to them too, and dwell 
 with them, hallowing their souls, and consigning 
 their bodies to a participation of all his glories. 
 The holy Virgin arriving to her perfections by 
 the means, not of the ostentous and laborious ex- 
 ercises and violences of life which they underwent, 
 who travelled over the world and preached to the 
 Gentiles, but of a quiet and silent piety, the inter- 
 nal actions of love, devotion and contemplation, 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 h 
 
 was held up as an ensample that the silent affec- 
 tions, the splendours of an internal devotion, the 
 unions of love, humility, and obedience, the daily 
 offices of prayer and praises sung to God, the 
 acts of faith and fear, of patience and meekness, 
 of hope and reverence, repentance and charity, 
 and those graces which walk in a veil and silence, 
 make great ascents to God, and a sure progress 
 to favour and a crown. In imitation of the Vir- 
 gin Mary, who was mother and nurse to the holy 
 Jesus, the woman in the innocent and healthful 
 days of our ancestors maintained a natural piety, 
 an operative charity, a just and valiant policy, a 
 sincere economy and proportionable to the dispo- 
 sitions and requisites of nature, not giving way to 
 that softness above that of Asian princes, into 
 which these later ages of the world have declined. 
 It is in the language of Jeremy Taylor, breathing 
 the spirit of his purified and heavenly imagination, 
 that I have described the object and effect of these 
 compositions which contributed to build up that 
 beautiful fabric of chivalry, which though now in- 
 deed in decay and ruin, is still the grand object 
 to fix the eye of man, to captivate his fancy, and 
 to correct his heart while passing on, a weary 
 traveller, through this lower valley of tears and 
 death. 
 
lii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 There are indeed men, and in some countries 
 they form no small portion of society, who seem 
 destitute of all spiritual elevation, men of earthy 
 tempers, unconscious of the enjoyment derived 
 from the imagination, who are ready to affirm 
 with Cyclops in the play : 
 
 6 irXovrog, dv0p(O7ri(TK6, toiq goQoiq Oeog' 
 ret 8' a\\a KoyLTTOi Kai \oyuv evfxopfyiai 
 
 who " fruges consumere nati," appear to be sus- 
 ceptible of no pleasure but that of providing 
 against the present and possible evils incident to 
 mere animal existence, and who may be truly 
 said in the language of the Poet, 
 
 propter vitam vivendi perdere causas. 
 
 There are men also (they seem peculiar to our 
 philosophic, or rather unphilosophic age) who 
 make a separation between the heart and the 
 head, who teach us an axiom in philosophy, that 
 self-love and self-interest are the operative prin- 
 ciples of the soul, and who logically conclude 
 that the chivalrous mode of existence is but the 
 dream of an excited imagination. In their eyes, 
 there is nothing admirable but intellectual ability, 
 nothing in virtue but what is derived from calcu- 
 lation of expediency ; they refer to matter and 
 
I 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. liii 
 
 the senses every thing but the dry skeleton of 
 operations in the brain, and they regard all ob- 
 jects of study and observation, history, romance, 
 poetry, painting, the beauties of nature and archi- 
 tecture, as fit for no other purpose but that of ex- 
 ercising and displaying the rational faculty ; and 
 hence they hold themselves privileged by their 
 acknowledged ability, to play with the imagina- 
 tion, and to mock the elevated sentiments of the 
 chivalrous part of mankind. Speak to them of 
 history — they are concerned with dates and con- 
 troversies, with speculations and political theories. 
 — Of romance — they pretend upon the data of 
 refined selfishness, and by submitting the induce- 
 ments of persons to the operations of arithmetic, 
 to account for the developement, and to explain 
 the movements of human passions. — Of poetry and 
 painting — they lay down rules and fit proportions 
 which are to be the criterion in estimating their 
 excellence. — Of music — they know the theory of 
 vibrations, and by a mathematical process they 
 can determine the exact relations of concordant 
 and discordant sounds, but the soul of harmony, 
 the precious music of the heart, they have, they 
 know it not. Or speak to them — 
 
 Of scenery — the tall rock 
 
 The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood 
 Their colours and their forms ■ 
 
liv 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 which were to the Poet in his youth, 
 
 An appetite ; a feeling and a love, 
 That had no need of a remoter charm, 
 By thought supplied, or any interest 
 Unborrowed from the eye 
 
 And when that time was past, which then did 
 nourish feelings of delight and peace, of 
 
 ■ a sense sublime 
 
 Of something far more deeply interfused, 
 Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 
 And the round ocean and the living air, 
 And the blue sky, and in the mind of man : 
 
 such as kindled into rapture the heart of Fenelon, 
 when he cried anathema to those who did not feel 
 the charm of that picture, 
 
 Fortunate senex, hie, inter flumina nota 
 Et fontes sacros, frigus captabis opacum* 
 
 Speak of this, I say, and they will perhaps confess 
 that these are lovely and magnificent objects, but 
 they will at the same time caution you against 
 being impressed by a false notion of the happi- 
 ness which they seem to inspire. " Les eclogues 
 de Virgile," they will tell you, " ne peignent ni ce 
 qui est, ni ce qui doit estre mais plutot les reves 
 de bonheur que la vue de la campagne nous in- 
 spire ; la simplicite, la douceur, l'innocence que 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 iv 
 
 nous aimons a faire contraster avec notre etat ha- 
 bituel*." Speak to them of architecture, this 
 too they have studied as a science ; they explain 
 to you, even when surrounded by the cathedral's 
 gloom, all about the Norman and the pointed 
 arch, the double centre and the intersection, the 
 cross ribs, the flowing tracery and perpendicular 
 mullions. Draw them to a higher ground, and 
 speak of all the elevated and generous dictates of 
 chivalry, and demand why, upon such an occa- 
 sion, they are not actually practised ; they have a 
 ready answer to silence all further objections, 
 " my dear friend, beware of cant." It is right, 
 that while I furnish you with amusement, you 
 should supply me with money, and I hope, as 
 Locke says in his epistle to the reader, " thou 
 wilt as little think thy money, as I do my pains, 
 ill bestowed," (quelle odeur de Magasin ! cries the 
 Count De Maistre), " manners too stately and 
 pure for humanity," they proceed to observe, 
 " are not for this world." These may be de- 
 
 * Sismondi Lit. du midi de PEurope, torn. ii. p. 180, 
 Dr. Johnson, in the Idler gives a sarcastic picture of 
 the happiness of an Arcadian life, which proves nothing 
 in my opinion, but his own melancholy want of taste 
 and feeling ; he would have sent Isaac out to meditate, 
 not u in the field at even-tide," but into Fleet-street, 
 in the bustle and heat of the day. 
 
Ivi 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 lightful images to divert your intervals of leisure, 
 the mind requires relaxation after intense la- 
 bours in scientific and mercantile pursuits. The 
 mathematician, the economist, and the man of 
 business, must provide some indulgence of this 
 kind, but you are not to suppose that they have 
 any thing to do with common life, or that they 
 furnish fit rules and examples of conduct ; that 
 they are to interfere with your desire of gaining 
 money, the proper compensation for labour, or 
 interest, leading to the substantial and real good 
 of this world. Endowed with versatile genius, 
 (this it would be affectation to deny) we have com- 
 posed histories and romances, where you will see 
 represented in more charming colours than your 
 imagination could have conceived, all these inde- 
 finable objects of your enthusiastic attachment. 
 Here is chivalry in all its flower and pride, in all 
 its boasted independence, generosity, fidelity, and 
 heroism. What more can you desire— can you 
 conceive ? But 
 
 paulum a turba seductior, audi. 
 
 it is all a delusion, it is all an idle vision, made 
 to amuse and unbend the intellectual faculties of 
 our weak nature : must you not submit to our 
 judgment, you who could never have described 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Ivi 
 
 these things so well, or have given them half that 
 appearance of reality which they derive from our 
 pencil t 
 
 O curvae in terras animas, et ccelestium inanes ! 
 
 O the vain pride of mere intellectual ability ! how 
 worthless, how contemptible when contrasted with 
 the riches of the heart, with " the feeling soul's 
 divinest glow !" What is the understanding, the 
 hard dry capacity of the brain, a mere dead ske- 
 leton of opinions, a few dry bones tied up together 
 without any flesh and sinews, if there be not a soul 
 to add moisture and life, substance and reality, 
 truth and joy ! " II est des verites," says the 
 Count De Maistre, " que l'homme ne peut saisir 
 qu' avec V esprit de son cceur. (Mente cordis sui.) 
 Plus d'une fois 1'homme de bien est ebranle en 
 voyant des personnes dont il estime les lumieres 
 se refuser a des preuves quiluiparoissent claires ; 
 c'est une pure illusion, ces personnes manquent 
 d'un sens, et voila tout. Lorsque Thomme le plus 
 habile n'a pas le sens religieux *, non-seulement 
 nous ne pouvons pas le vaincre, mais nous n'avons 
 
 * Philosopher ! a fingering slave, 
 One that would peep and botanize 
 Upon his mother's grave. 
 
 Wordsworth, 
 
Iviii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 meme aucun moyen de nous faire entendre de lui, 
 ce qui ne prouve rien que son malheur." We 
 have all of us, says Cud worth, puvnvpot. n (as both 
 Plato and Aristotle call it) a certain presage in 
 our minds of some higher good and perfection, 
 than either power or knowledge. Aristotle him- 
 self declares, that there is Koyx n xpHTTov, which is 
 hoyaci^Yi : for, saith he, Xoyx upx* 1 8 h°y°Si a^Aa ti 
 xf>6*TTov. And after quoting Plato de repub. VI. 
 p. 477. he proceeds thus, " in all which of Plato's 
 there seems to be little more than what may be 
 experimentally found within ourselves ; namely, 
 that there is a certain life, or vital and moral dis- 
 position of soul, which is much more inwardly and 
 thoroughly satisfactory, not only than sensual 
 pleasure, but also than all knowledge and specu- 
 lation whatsoever." In that sublime passage, 
 where Barrow proves the being of God from the 
 frame of human nature, he shews that there is at 
 least some shadow of every attribute ascribed to 
 God, discernible in man, and that there are " fair 
 characters of the Divine nature engraven upon his 
 soul," and that even the impressions of truth and 
 virtue, are not quite razed out of it. " L'esprit 
 devient plus pur," says Malebranche, " plus lu- 
 mineux, plus fort etplus etendu a proportion que 
 s'augmente l'union qu'il a avec dieu :" and again 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 lix 
 
 he says, when man entering into himself, * ecoute 
 son souverain maitre dans le silence de ses sens et 
 de ses passions, il est impossible qu'il tombe dans 
 l'erreur." If, from these sublime views of the 
 dignity and capabilities of the human soul, we 
 descend to mark the character of those minds, 
 which with all their science and knowledge, are 
 not more spiritualized, as Malebranche proves, 
 than those of the vulgar crowd of worldly men, 
 must we not feel horror at the view of what Bar- 
 row terms, " their monstrous baseness ?" How 
 far do the men of religious and chivalrous spirit, 
 differ from these modern sophists? Aristotle 
 once replied to a similar question, ocra bi £uvtb<; tov 
 TsfowoTuv. It is even so, — as much as the living 
 from the dead. What is life to them ? I say, 
 what degree of happiness can they possess, whose 
 spirits are thus enslaved by the senses and sepa- 
 rated from the divinity, the centre of life and joy ? 
 
 Signor del mondo, a te che manca ? 
 says Seneca to Nero in a tragedy. 
 
 Pace 
 
 is the reply. 
 
 Again I demand what is the value of an exis- 
 tence thus perverted from all the ends of high 
 and pure enjoyment for which it was beneficently 
 given ? 
 
 d2 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 H While I am compass'd round 
 With mirth, my soul lies hid in shades of grief, 
 Whence, like the bird of night, with half-shut eyes 
 She peeps, and sickens at the sight of day." 
 
 " Longa dies igitur quid contulit ?" " Fie de 
 la vie," cried a princess of France, when she was 
 pressed to take a remedy for her disorder, " fie 
 de la vie, qu'on ne m'en parle plus." 
 
 Certainly when a man of genius or religion is 
 tempted to contemplate the common lot and con- 
 dition of mankind, — when he looks down like the 
 philosopher in Plato, upon the toils and vanities 
 and delusions of a worldly life, uq l| uwowrov 
 
 Szuptvoq beholding in the regions from which 
 
 he has descended all that is admirable and lovely, 
 the to sroXv w&ayoq roy kolKqv — his eye discerning 
 what is invisible to the vulgar, the chariot and 
 horses and countenances of the gods, — his mind 
 haunted with the idea of perfection, of " aliquid 
 immensum infinitumque," his 
 
 " body's self turn'd soul with the intense 
 
 Feeling of that which is, and fancy of 
 That which should be." 
 
 language must be inadequate to express his con- 
 viction, that men are formed for a nobler purpose, 
 and for a higher enjoyment ; — that 
 
 " The finer thoughts, the thrilling sense, 
 
 The electric blood with which their arteries run," 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Ixi 
 
 were not designed to assist them in the painful 
 pursuit of miserable gain, or in the search of that 
 mean excitement which a perverse and degraded 
 nature is content to substitute for the higher 
 feelings of which it was originally susceptible. 
 " Oh ! que j'aime l'inutile," will be his reply to 
 the maxims of the worldly wise. Life is not 
 worth acceptance, if we are to be solely occupied 
 with* its realities. 
 
 Heaven-born, the soul a heaven ward course must 
 hold; 
 
 Beyond the visible world she soars to seek, 
 
 (For what delights the sense is false and weak) 
 
 Ideal form, the universal mould. 
 
 The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest 
 
 In that which perishes : nor will he lend 
 
 His heart to aught which doth on time depend. 
 
 It will be said that this is to recommend enthu- 
 siasm. It may be so, but let the words which 
 follow be remembered, " when we have once ex- 
 posed enthusiasm to ridicule, we have removed 
 every thing but money and power." In a thou- 
 sand cases we have railed at superstition till we 
 have recommended impiety. Men have com- 
 plained of external forms, of processions, habits, 
 and ceremonies, burdening the simplicity of re- 
 ligion, but they should look well whether, as I 
 strongly suspect, the objection does not rather 
 d3 
 
Ixii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE, 
 
 prove that they who make it have lost sight of 
 simplicity, whether if they had retained the inno- 
 cence and warmth of feeling which belong to chi- 
 valry and youth, if they had been like little chil- 
 dren in malice, evil imaginations, pride, and re- 
 liance upon their own reason, whether, I say, 
 these very forms which still please men of poeti- 
 cal and refined and youthful minds, would not 
 have been to them a recreation and a joy. Cud- 
 worth did not fear to proclaim, before the House 
 of Commons, in 1647, " that many who pulled 
 down idols in churches set them up in their 
 hearts, and men who quarrelled with painted glass 
 made no scruple of staining their souls with lust, 
 corruption, and idolatry." 
 
 " There are but two distinct classes of men," 
 says an eminent writer, " upon the earth: that 
 which is susceptible of enthusiasm, and that which 
 despises it. All other differences are the effect 
 of society. The one has not words for his feel- 
 ings, the other knows what should be said to 
 conceal the vacuum in his heart : but the spring 
 which flows from the rock at the command of 
 heaven, this source is real talent, real religion, 
 real love." Or perhaps it will be advanced, that 
 the temper and habits of our age will not approve 
 of our calling in the imaginations and feelings to 
 assist the influence of religion. It may be so, 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Ixiii 
 
 but let us remember what is the alternative if 
 we abandon the attempt. The question is not, 
 whether mankind ought to be influenced by feel- 
 ing and imagination, but whether these are to be 
 enlisted on the side of religion, or against it. 
 Imagination, feeling, and associations, youth will 
 have, and it is for us to determine only, whether 
 these should be connected with the Christian 
 faith, or left to be opposed to it. Who does not 
 foresee the result, if this should be permitted ; if 
 at this critical period of life we suffer ourselves 
 to be persuaded, that the precepts of the Gospel 
 are injurious to human happiness, contrary to 
 every thing that is beyond question, lovely and 
 of good report, and inconsistent with the consti- 
 tution of our nature ? 
 
 It may be proper to inform the reader, that 
 since the first printing of this book many histo- 
 ries and ensamples have been added, which are 
 found in the present volume. I was led to make 
 these additions from an increasing sense of the 
 importance of the object in view, and from find- 
 ing, by experience, that my expectations with 
 respect to the effect of such reading upon minds 
 well disposed, were fully realized. " The love 
 of imitation," says Aristotle, " is in man's nature 
 from his infancy, and herein he differs from other 
 
 d 4 
 
Ixiv THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 animals, on fjn^vinKurarov tan" Lord Bacon has 
 pronounced of examples such as are here sub- 
 mitted to the reader, that they may be of great 
 service " to quicken and strengthen the opinions 
 and persuasions which are true. For reasons," 
 he observes, " plainly delivered and always after 
 one manner, especially with fine and fastidious 
 minds, enter but heavily and dully ; whereas, if 
 they be varied, and have more life and vigour 
 put into them by these forms and insinuations, 
 they cause a stronger apprehension, and many 
 times suddenly win the mind to a resolution." 
 Certes the more I reflected upon the noble and 
 joyous images presented in this book, the more I 
 was assured that they must conduce to the con- 
 firmation of all those holy feelings which alone 
 can give dignity and security to the higher 
 classes. — The more I was persuaded that the 
 principles which they illustrate and recommend 
 are the most important that can be made the sub- 
 ject of their study — and that gentlemen can be 
 happy and honourable, can obtain the blessing 
 of God Almighty for themselves, for their coun- 
 try, and for mankind, only in proportion as they 
 adhere to them. 
 
 It would have ill become a lay-man, accus- 
 tomed to the scenes of active life, and knowing 
 of no infallible criterion to guide us in the study 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Ixv 
 
 of Holy Scripture, further than what is promised 
 to him who shall keep the commandments of our 
 Lord Jesus, which require modesty and obedi- 
 ence to the judgment of his ordained ministers, I 
 say it would have ill become me to have spoken 
 in a decided tone upon the doctrines and myste- 
 ries of religion, albeit in this book some allusion 
 to these awful subjects, some manifestation of 
 my individual feeling upon matters of practice 
 and common life connected with them, was un- 
 avoidable. But if herein I may have erred, I 
 pray you all noble clerks and holy men, worthy 
 ministers of God's word to believe me innocent 
 of offending with a high hand and proud heart. 
 Certainly to you I am most bound and most wil- 
 ling to submit, not with a deceitful shew of re- 
 verence, in the style of men whose base philoso- 
 phy recommends the practice of a false tongue, 
 but with simplicity and with sincerity. Yet I 
 doubt not but that all good Christians will, in the 
 end, acknowledge the justice of these opinions ; 
 for unless the mind hath been previously exas- 
 perated and misled by controversial writings, and 
 the mistatements of infidel historians, all such 
 persons will, of necessity, out of the simplicity 
 of their hearts, regard as their brethren " those 
 who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, n 
 
lxvi THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Theologians in the schools may, perhaps, be jus- 
 tified in exposing the differences on secondary 
 points, which divide the churches of Chris ten- 
 dome ; but I cannot overcome my persuasion that 
 with their logomachy and speculative distinctions, 
 and even with their just conclusions on subjects 
 of such a nature, not affecting the broad princi- 
 ples of the Christian faith, a gallant and religious 
 lay-man has no concern whatever. He who has 
 been in countries where 
 
 u . The Cross with hideous laughter Demons mock," 
 
 And who has never beheld the sects who adopt a 
 philosophizing system of religion, under the name 
 of the Gospel, exposed to any injury or insult 
 from the enemies of the faith, but very often in 
 league and friendship with them, reviling and 
 disdaining the humble and simple spirit of those 
 who trust in the cross, and who regard as their 
 pride and glory this precious emblem of our sal- 
 vation; that man, I say, may be expected and 
 permitted, in the spirit of chivalrous simplicity, 
 to draw from such observations the plain and na- 
 tural inference. The age in which we live seems 
 pregnant with the seed of some mighty events 
 connected with the religious history of mankind. 
 The enemies of Christ do not now disguise them- 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Ixvii 
 
 selves under the cloak of a political party, and 
 talk of religion with rapine in their soul : they 
 avow their principles. If they do refer to the 
 Gospel, it is to deny its divine character, and to 
 make it but a human record of some ancient at- 
 tempts, like their own, to overthrow superstition 
 and government. Their forces, moreover, are 
 now united, as it were, and fully bent upon the 
 grand object, — the overthrow of the cross. — This 
 is not a time, therefore, for the religious part of 
 mankind to remain disunited and opposed to it- 
 self, and happily, I think, we have reason to be- 
 lieve, that the good men of all churches are 
 beginning to feel the necessity for some measure 
 of mutual defence. It is worse than folly, at 
 such a crisis, to protract our animosities. At 
 this moment the attentive eye may discern, in 
 Germany, the beginning of some movement to- 
 wards reunion amongst the soldiers of Christ ; 
 and England, too, may assuredly hope, that the 
 day will come, when a blessed alliance, founded, 
 no doubt, upon mutual concessions, shall once 
 more restore the peace of God's Church, and in- 
 spire all her faithful sons with confidence and 
 brotherly love. 
 
 But now that I may hasten to the conclusion 
 of €!)e Prologue, I must endeavour to awaken my 
 
lxviii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 reader to an important and grave reflection, which 
 is quite essential to the proper introduction of 
 what is to follow in this book. Moreover, it is 
 a touchstone to determine his own fitness for the 
 study. If he shall disdain this reflection, let him 
 at once close the book, for assuredly there is 
 nothing in it that he can love or comprehend. In 
 two sublime sermons of Bishop Bull there is a 
 proof and an exposition of the Scriptural doc- 
 trine, touching the existence and office of the 
 holy angels : he teaches how these blessed and 
 mighty spirits are appointed by God, as the mi- 
 nisters of his especial providence over the faith- 
 ful. " It is true, indeed," he observes, " they 
 do not now ordinarily appear in visible forms, as 
 in ancient times they did, before God had fully 
 revealed his will to the world, although the sue- 
 ceeding ages do afford us very credible relations of 
 some such apparitions now and then, but ordina- 
 rily the government of angels over us is now 
 administered in a secret and invisible manner. 
 Hence too many have been inclined either flatly 
 to deny, or at least to call in question, the truth 
 of the doctrine we are now upon. But they have 
 souls very much immersed in flesh who can ap- 
 prehend nothing but what touches and affects 
 their senses ; and they that follow this gross and 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Ixix 
 
 sensual way of procedure, must at last fall into 
 downright epicurism, to deny all particular pro- 
 vidence of God over the souls of men, and to 
 ascribe all events to these causes that are next to 
 them. But, although the ministry of angels be 
 now, for the most part, invisible, yet to the ob- 
 servant it is not altogether indiscernible. " And 
 still further, he determines, " that every faithful 
 person, during his life on earth, hath his parti- 
 cular guardian-angel more constantly to preside 
 and watch over him." And now for what imme- 
 diate purpose have we suggested this reflection ? 
 it is to make my reader aware that in every ac- 
 tion of his life, and therefore in beginning the 
 study of any book he is under the influence of 
 some spirit acting upon his own, either that of 
 his guardian-angel, suggesting to his mind good 
 thoughts and affections, or else if he shall have 
 grieved and banished this protector, that of the 
 evil spirit, the devil, whose existence is so ap- 
 parent, that Bishop Bull affirms, in a strain of 
 bold eloquence, " he must needs be under a very 
 strong and powerful delusion of the devil who 
 shall deny it, 5 ' and whose object is to inject evil 
 thoughts, and to turn even the images and les- 
 sons of virtue into a stumbling-block and a snare. 
 " Notre connoissance et notre amitie," says a 
 
Ixx THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 French writer in relating his connection with a 
 certain individual, " durerent en tout environ six 
 semaines, mais les suites en dureront autant que 
 moi." What a reflection ! now between an au- 
 thor and his reader there will arise an intercourse 
 of some hours or days — but what shall we say as 
 to the duration and extent of the consequences 
 which shall result from this short interval ? 
 
 Certes in the mysterious government of the 
 world of spirits, besides these blessed ministers, 
 the great God makes use of humble instruments, 
 and of occasions which often to the eye of man 
 appear least of all important. How often have 
 we derived a strong and lasting impression upon 
 our minds, from some chance word in conver- 
 sation, or from the arguement of some friend, 
 whose skill in the conduct of it may have been far 
 inferior to ours in appearing to confute him? 
 " How often," says Bishop Bull, " are there sud- 
 den and unexpected accidents, as we will call 
 them, cast in our way, to divert us from certain 
 enterprizes we are just ready to engage in, the ill 
 consequences whereof we do afterwards, but not 
 till then, apprehend ? Again, quantum est in 
 subitis casibus ingenium ! How strange many 
 times are our present thoughts and suggestions 
 in sudden and surprising danger! Hither also 
 
THE PROLOGUE, lxxi 
 
 we may refer that lucky conspiracy of circum- 
 stances which we sometimes experience in our 
 affairs, when we light upon the to vw, or nick of 
 opportunity, when the persons whose counsel or 
 assistance we most need, strangely occur, and 
 all things fall out according to our desire, but 
 beyond our expectation. — For my part, I question 
 not but that much of this is to be attributed to the 
 ministry of the holy angels." What have we ob- 
 served with respect to the final consequence of 
 these apparently accidental and temporary im- 
 pressions ? We spend a few hours in hearing or 
 reading — perhaps, alarmed by reflecting on the 
 responsibility of knowledge, we close the book 
 for that day — for ever : — and yet as the French 
 writer says of his six week's acquaintance with 
 another man, — the consequence may end only with 
 our being — that is, may be eternal ! I pray the 
 Saviour of the world to send to us the eternal, 
 uncreated Spirit of God, who only is able to over- 
 rule our wills, to penetrate the deepest secrets of 
 our hearts, and to rectify our most inward facul- 
 ties — I pray that his holy angels may guard and 
 watch over us, and may convert to our good, the 
 lessons and ensamples contained in this book — 
 the fancies and imaginations which they may sug- 
 gest. I pray that as he directs us to commemo- 
 
Ixxii 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 rate his servants who have departed this life in 
 his faith and fear, he may likewise give us grace 
 so to follow their good examples, that with them 
 we may be partakers of his heavenly kingdom • 
 Finally, then, to use the words of Sir Thomas 
 Maleore, " I humbly beseech all noble lordes and 
 ladyes, wyth al other estates of what estate or de- 
 gree they been of, that shal see and rede in this 
 sayd book and worke, that they take the good and 
 honest actes in their remembrance, and to folowe 
 the same. M*? (jlopov lirccwivrt tov$ ayctQovq uXXoc xai 
 (MfAtbaQs. — Al is wryten for our doctryne, and for 
 to beware that we falle not to vyce ne synne, but 
 texercyse and followe vertu ; by whyche we may 
 come and atteyne to good fame and renomme in 
 thys lyfe, and after thys shorte and transytorye 
 lyf, to come unto everlastyng blysse in heven ; the 
 whyche he graunt us, that reygneth in heven, the 
 blessyd Trynyte. Amen." 
 
THE 
 
 In the twentieth year of your age, when 
 you are shortly to enter upon the stage of 
 the world, and to attract either the appro- 
 bation or the censure of your equals ; at a 
 period of great refinement, but also of much 
 consequent dissoluteness of principle; of 
 
 B 
 
2 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 national glory, but also of danger, which 
 attends that exaltation, the formation of 
 your character becomes a subject of inte- 
 rest to all who are members of the high 
 order in which you are to be received. It 
 is not Parents or Brothers or Tutors who 
 alone are concerned in the direction of 
 your youth, but it is the Gentlemen of 
 England whom you are born either to 
 honour or to disgrace. 
 
 I propose therefore to employ some mo- 
 ments of my leisure in placing before you 
 the features of that character which belongs 
 to your order, and I exhort you not to 
 render useless by your own apathy and inat- 
 tention, a disinterested effort that may con- 
 tribute to your renown. 
 
 You are born a Gentleman. This is a 
 high privilege, but are you aware of its ob- 
 ligation ? It has pleased God to place you 
 in a post of honour ; but are you conscious, 
 that it is one which demands high and pe- 
 culiar qualities? Such, however, is the 
 fact. " If the offspring of great men," 
 says the herald, " vaunt of their linage or 
 titular dignity, and want their virtues, they 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 3 
 
 are but like base serving-men, who carry 
 on their sleeves the badge of some noble 
 family, yet are they themselves but unnoble 
 persons." Therefore the rank which you 
 have to support, requires not so much an 
 inheritance, or the acquisition of wealth 
 and property, as of elevated virtue and a 
 spotless fame. These are essential to the 
 enjoyment of its advantages; and without 
 these, it will be neither honourable to your- 
 self, nor profitable to your country, since 
 the words of the Roman Orator are for ever 
 applicable, " splendor vester facit, ut pec- 
 care sine summo reipublicoe detrimento non 
 possitis." You are a Gentleman. There- 
 fore you have to frame and to support the 
 character which belongs immediately to 
 that rank. The vulgar and undisciplined 
 live by chance, and confine their delibera- 
 tion to estimate the expediency of particu- 
 lar actions at the moment when they are 
 called upon to perform them : but you have 
 to form in the first instance a general plan 
 of life, to which your particular actions 
 must be kept in subservience. You have a 
 model and an outline to lay out, by which 
 b 2 
 
4 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 the detail of your actions must be regu- 
 lated. " A qui n'a dresse en gros sa vie," 
 says Montagne, " a une certaine fin, il est 
 impossible de disposer les actions particu- 
 lieres. II est impossible de renger les 
 pieces a qui n'a une forme du tout en sa 
 teste." Conformable to that rule of So- 
 crates, who taught that there should be a 
 certain harmony in the character which he 
 termed E^&sta, to which also Cicero seems 
 to allude when he says, " talis ordo ac- 
 tionum adhibenda est ut quemadmodum in 
 oratione constanti, sic in vita omnia sint 
 apta et inter se convenientia." 
 
 The powers of Dryden have been em- 
 ployed in asserting the great truths of 
 nature, with regard to the equal origin of 
 mankind. But after reading that incom- 
 parable passage with all admiration, for it 
 relates to a truth which should be dear to 
 every man, and in which the Christian is, 
 above all others, interested ; after reviewing 
 the arguments which have been deceitfully 
 founded upon this truth, there will still re- 
 main in the mind of the impartial estimator 
 of the human character, a conviction and 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 5 
 
 a feeling which he cannot conquer, that 
 elevated birth is entitled to respect; the 
 inheritance, not of a title of nobility, but 
 of noble blood ; of a name which has dis- 
 tinguished an ancient and honourable race 
 in the service of mankind, through succes- 
 sive generations. To receive such an in- 
 heritance, is indeed to be endowed with a 
 high and an independent privilege, a pri- 
 vilege too, you must remember, of which 
 no earthly power can ever deprive you. So 
 thought even the republican Greeks. 
 
 Aeivoq xapaKTVp) KaTriffrjuog Iv fiporoig £<f$\Cjv yeveabai. 
 
 So thought the Romans, the votaries, the 
 very slaves of freedom. You remember, 
 that when the people became eligible to the 
 offices of Military Tribune and Quaestor, 
 they invariably returned men of Patrician 
 family to the ninth election, and this, not- 
 withstanding the utmost efforts of the Tri- 
 bunes, and the leaders of the popular party. 
 In the year 333, Antistius and Pompilius, 
 both of them Tribunes, demanded the office 
 of Quaestor ; the first for his son, the se- 
 cond for his brother ; and yet, strange to 
 b3 
 
6 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 relate, they were both disappointed, and 
 Patricians were elected by the people. The 
 expression which is used by the historian 
 Hooke is remarkable. " The people/' he 
 says, " had not power to deny it to men, 
 whose fathers and ancestors had been ho- 
 noured with the Consulship." When Jus- 
 tinian gave Rome the simple form of an 
 absolute Monarchy, he abolished these dis- 
 tinctions, and made all the people equally 
 citizens of the empire ; ( 6 yet/' says Gibbon, 
 '* he could not eradicate the popular reve- 
 rence which always waits on the possession 
 of hereditary wealth, or the memory of fa- 
 mous ancestors." A more recent instance 
 of a similar kind, will be observed in the 
 History of the Insurrection of Genoa, in 
 1746. When the people had made this 
 effort, "Worthy of the Romans," as Mr. Gib- 
 bon observes, there was a Council formed, 
 which was called the Assembly of the Peo- 
 ple, and which had full authority in the 
 government of the republic. That which 
 is the most curious part of the relation, is 
 the circumstance, that the people who had 
 contracted this taste for supreme authority, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 7 
 
 were soon disgusted with their own leaders, 
 permitted the assembly to be discontinued, 
 and actually returned the reins of govern- 
 ment into the hands of the Nobles, without 
 dispute, and without condition. The his- 
 torian of the Decline and Fall, to whose 
 authority, the philosopher at least must 
 bow, will teach the pedant in liberty and 
 patriotism, how he should respect and 
 esteem this privilege of birth # . " Our 
 
 * The observations of Nicole in his treatise " De 
 la Grandeur, i e partie, chap. v. are very striking. He 
 remarks of those persons who would argue from ana- 
 logy that the institution was absurd, "lis raisonne- 
 roient Men, si les hommes etoient justes et raisonna- 
 bles, mais ils raisonnent tres-mal, parce qu'ils ne lc 
 sont pas, et qu'ils ne le seront jamais. L'injustice 
 naturelle et ineffasable du cceur des hommes rend ce 
 choix, non seulement raisonnable, mais le chef-d'ceuvre 
 de la raison. Car qui choisirons nous ? Le plus ver- 
 tueux, le plus sage, &c. &c. ! mai nous voila inconti- 
 nent aux mains. — Attachons done notre choix a quelque 
 chose d'exterieur et d'incontestable. — L'on calme 
 Porgueil des inferieurs, et l'on leur rend la grandeur 
 de beaucoup moins incommode. — Un autre avantage 
 qui arrive de cet etablissement, est que Pon peut avoir 
 des princes sans orgueil, et que les grans peuvent etre 
 humbles. Car il n'y a point d'orgueil a demeurer 
 B 4 
 
8 THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 
 
 calmer judgment," he observes in the Me- 
 moirs of his Life, " will rather tend to mo- 
 derate, than to suppress the pride of an 
 ancient and worthy race. The satirist may 
 laugh, the philosopher may preach, but 
 reason herself will respect the prejudices 
 and habits which have been consecrated by 
 the experience of mankind. The institu- 
 tion of hereditary rank, has been main- 
 tained," he proceeds to state, " for the 
 wisest and most beneficial purposes in 
 almost every climate of the globe, and in 
 almost every modification of political so- 
 ciety : wherever the distinction of birth is 
 allowed to form a superior order in the 
 state, education and example should al- 
 ways, and will often produce among them 
 
 dans P6tat ou Pon est ne, et ou la providence de Dieu 
 nous a mis, pourvou que Pon en use selons les fins de 
 Dieu, et Pon peut avec cela conserver des sentimens 
 d'humilite dans son coeur, connoitre ses d6 fauts et ses 
 miseres ; et regarder sa condition comme une chose 
 etrangere dont Pordre de Dieu nous a revetus." This 
 admirable treatise will be found in the 2d vol. of the 
 Essais de Morale, the book of which Madame Sevign6 
 says in a letter to her daughter (lett. 376), " On croit 
 n'avoir lu de Franjois qu'en ce livre." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 9 
 
 a dignity of sentiment # , and propriety of 
 conduct, which is guarded from dishonour^ 
 by their own and the public esteem. If we 
 read of some illustrious line, so ancient, 
 that it has no beginning ; so worthy, that 
 it ought to have no end, we sympathize in 
 its various fortunes ; nor can we blame the 
 generous enthusiasm, or even the harmless 
 vanity of those who are allied to the ho- 
 nours of its name." It will not be difficult, 
 upon a hasty review of history, to discover 
 instances, that will verify the truth of this 
 observation. Thus, for example, in the 
 ninth book of Livy, you will find it related, 
 that when the Romans were proposing to 
 break the treaty with the Samnites, their 
 Consul insisted that he and the other Ro- 
 mans, who signed that treaty, should be 
 
 * There can be but one opinion upon the courage 
 which was displayed by the Duchess D'Angouleme, on 
 a late occasion of the war in France. And while the 
 name of this Princess, Maria Theresa, will remind us 
 of her descent from the immortal Queen, who trusted 
 her life to the fidelity of her Hungarian subjects, this 
 heroic action will, I conceive, remind us of the effect 
 which the memory of illustrious ancestors will gene- 
 rally be found td produce. 
 
 B 5 
 
10 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 previously given up to them. But when the 
 Tribunes came to speak, they concluded 
 their harangue, with proclaiming, that they 
 were sacred magistrates, inviolable, and 
 that they must not be delivered to the Sam- 
 nites. I do not quote this passage, to im- 
 ply that the Tribunes were necessarily base 
 in sentiment, but that the Consul displayed 
 the virtue which was required by his birth. 
 Thus, again, in Shakspeare's play of 
 Henry VI. we have that fine passage, 
 
 " Is my name Talbot ? and am I your son ? 
 
 And shall I fly ? 
 
 The world will say — he is not Talbot's blood 
 That basely fled when noble Talbot stood." 
 
 And how true to nature's law was Homer 
 in relating of Telemachus after Minerva 
 had been speaking of his father ? 
 
 d* kvt Svfjty 
 
 Otjks fievog Kai Oapffog, v7T€fivif(TSV ts k 7raTpog 
 MaXXov It\ r\ to irapoiQiV 
 
 Odyss. ii. 
 
 I shall endeavour to make myself under- 
 stood by examples, and first I will direct your 
 attention to an anecdote in the history of 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 11 
 
 modern Italy, which I am inclined to think, 
 will illustrate the subject. The event took 
 place during the wars of the French king, 
 Lewis XII. in Italy. 
 
 There is a mountain near Longara in 
 which there is a natural cavern of more than 
 a mile in length. The inhabitants of the 
 country, terrified at the ravages of war, had 
 fled for refuge into this grotto, to the num- 
 ber of two thousand persons, of all ranks 
 and of both sexes. Here also they con- 
 veyed their treasure and their provisions. 
 They had a few fire-arms to defend the en- 
 trance in case of an attack, and this en- 
 trance was so narrow that only one person 
 could pass at a time. A party of banditti, 
 the most cowardly of whom are generally 
 the most ardent in pursuit of plunder, un- 
 fortunately discovered this asylum. They 
 were proceeding to enter, when a remon- 
 strance ensued between them and the per- 
 sons who were on guard within; but as 
 they did not attend to their entreaties, and 
 were proceeding to force their way, they 
 were fired upon, and two of their party 
 were killed; the rest fled and collected 
 b 6 
 
12 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 their comrades, and the whole party re- 
 turned to the grotto, resolved upon revenge 
 and plunder. When they found that it was 
 impossible to enter by force, they had re- 
 course to a stratagem. They collected a 
 heap of wood and straw before the mouth 
 of the cave, and to this they set fire. In a 
 moment the grotto was filled with thick 
 smoke, and as there was no other passage 
 to admit air, the persons within were soon 
 suffocated. There were found among these 
 unhappy victims, a number of gentlemen 
 and ladies who lay as if they had been 
 asleep, and many of the younger women 
 had infants and children by their side. The 
 smoke dispersed ; the robbers entered, and 
 their booty was immense. Some of these 
 miscreants were shortly taken and executed 
 upon the spot. During the moment of this 
 execution, there came out of the cave a 
 kind of phantom, a youth of about fifteen ; 
 his body yellow and shrivelled with the 
 smoke, and more dead than alive, he told 
 his story to the people. When he perceived 
 the dreadful smoke, he fled to the farthest 
 end of the cavern, where he had discovered 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 13 
 
 a crevice running upwards in the rock, and 
 from that he received a little air. But the 
 circumstance which he related is that point 
 to which I must call your attention. He 
 said that there were some gentlemen and 
 their wives, who, when they saw the pre- 
 parations to smother them, had resolved 
 and endeavoured to force their way out, 
 and rather to die in battle than to be suf- 
 focated in the cave. But the peasants who 
 were with them, and who were the most 
 numerous, had pushed them back with 
 pikes, saying, since we must die in this 
 place, you shall remain and die with us. 
 Now I am of opinion that this frightful nar- 
 rative will illustrate and verify the preced- 
 ing remarks, and that by proving the con- 
 verse of our proposition ; for as the senti- 
 ments of birth are generous and humane, 
 so the spirit which is hostile to those senti- 
 ments and to that institution, will be mean 
 and cruel. And as the gentleman will de- 
 light in valour and in mercy, so the churl, 
 not the man of low extraction whose mind 
 maybe noble, not the poor man who stands 
 in his honourable post, but the savage en- 
 
14 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 vious hater of all superiority either in vir- 
 tue or in rank ; the victim of that fiend 
 ambition, which almost rends asunder the 
 very frame that it has to govern, will dis- 
 play the qualities which can only be as- 
 cribed to the influence of the great spiritual 
 enemy to the virtues of the human heart. 
 
 I conceive this subject, to which our at- 
 tention is now directed, to be of the very 
 first importance, not merely as a necessary 
 introduction to the lessons which I shall 
 have to offer you in this book, but as con- 
 taining the very basis of our religion and 
 the first principles of moral philosophy. 
 The corruption and depravity of human 
 nature is established by both of these, and 
 therefore follows the corruption and de- 
 pravity of that class of mankind, which is 
 not radically corrected by religion, or im- 
 perfectly by the education and associations 
 belonging to the higher ranks of society. 
 Let us take a review of mankind in distant 
 ages, and let us mark what has been the 
 general opinion of wise men in every gene- 
 ration on this particular subject. Not to 
 mention the sentences of Holy Writ, I ap- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 15 
 
 peal to every student who is acquainted 
 with the writings of Plato and Aristotle, of 
 Cicero, Seneca, and Horace, whether they 
 had not as great a contempt for the vulgar 
 (rightly understood) as the most powerful 
 and ignorant Baron of the middle ages ? 
 therefore it is not the institution of chivalry 
 which created this description of men : for 
 it is coeval with the righteous Abel and 
 with the first appearance of virtue upon the 
 earth. But further than this, besides the 
 corruption and depravity common to all 
 mankind, there are particular descriptions 
 of wickedness, to which some men more 
 than others are born liable. This is a phy- 
 sical truth, which it would be idle to dis- 
 pute. It is a general law of nature, that 
 parents transmit particular genius and dis- 
 position to their children. Now in the 
 lower ranks of society in all ages of the 
 world, some vices are not so generally ab- 
 horred as they are in a higher, therefore 
 in those ranks of society, parents do not 
 transmit to their children that aversion to 
 these vices, which seems hereditary in the 
 blood of their superiors. True it is, that 
 
16 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 when religion and care in youth have cor- 
 rected the disposition of the poor, and 
 when impiety and neglect in youth have 
 been attendants on the great, the rule is 
 broken and the scale reversed ; but no ex- 
 amples of this kind, however numerous, 
 and from their very nature conspicuous and 
 striking, will be able to disprove the reality 
 and power of this universal law. What 
 these particular vices may be, to which 
 men of low origin are born peculiarly liable, 
 will be best understood by referring to the 
 examples and opinions of antiquity and of 
 our own age. But before I state these, it 
 may be expedient to declare again, that in 
 these observations I do not allude to the 
 man who is born in an humble rank of life, 
 as exemplifying the character of the churl, 
 but to that numerous class of men, fre- 
 quently possessing affluence and character 
 in the world, though sprung from a low 
 origin, who are under the dominion of un- 
 corrected passions, who are the enemies 
 to virtue and to restraint of every descrip 
 tion, whether of religion or law, or autho- 
 rity, or example. So far from intending 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 17 
 
 any reproach upon the lower classes of so- 
 ciety, I pronounce that there is even a pe- 
 culiar connection, a sympathy of feeling 
 and affection, a kind of fellowship, which 
 is instantly felt and recognized by both, 
 between these and the highest order, that 
 of gentlemen. In society, as in the atmos- 
 phere of the world, it is the middle which 
 is the region of disorder and confusion and 
 tempest. The natural extremes of high 
 and low are serene and untroubled. Nature 
 there pursues her course without interrup- 
 tion or interference from discordant ele- 
 ments, and therefore all is wisdom and 
 harmony and peace. 
 
 In the Morte d'Arthur, Sir Ebel relates, 
 how his master, King Hermaunce, was 
 treacherously murdered by two knights, 
 whom he had brought up and raised to 
 honour. " Thenne whan these two tray- 
 tours understoode that they had dryven alle 
 the lordes of his blood from hym, they 
 were not pleased with that rule, but thenne 
 they thoughte to have more, as ever hit is 
 an old sawe, ' Gyve a chorle rule, and there 
 by he wylle not be suffysed 9 Therefor at 
 
18 THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR, 
 
 estates and lordes, beware who me ye take 
 aboute you." 
 
 Sir John Froissart, when he relates the 
 treacherous murder of Evan of Wales, at 
 the siege of Mortayne in Poitou, by John 
 Lambe, a squire who came out of England, 
 observes that he was but a small gentleman, 
 or little of a gentleman, as the event well 
 proved, adding* " for a very gentylman 
 wyll never set his mynde on so evyjl an 
 entent." 
 
 Mezerai, the great French historian, ob- 
 serves, in speaking of the insolence and 
 vanity of low persons who assume the arms 
 and titles of great families, " Ce qui seroit 
 peut-etre supportable si en consequence ils 
 s'efForgoient d'avoir Tame aussi noble que 
 les armoiries etles noms qu'ils usurpent # ." 
 The common saying of the English Lords 
 in the reign of Edward III. is upon record. 
 " A man of base lynage canne nat knowe 
 what parteyneth to honoure ; their desyre 
 is ever to enryche, and to have all them- 
 selfe, lyke an otter in the water, which co- 
 veteth to have all that he fyndeth." By the 
 
 * Abreg. ch. T. 2. p. 63. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 19 
 
 way, and once for all, would it not be wiser 
 for men of low origin to disprove these 
 opinions by their practice, rather than by 
 cant and declamation ? And on the other, 
 and still by the way, let gentlemen remem- 
 ber that such professions, unless borne out 
 by action, will only turn in confusion upon 
 their own heads. But let us proceed with 
 the subject. 
 
 The famous anecdote related by Froissart 
 of the knight who to fulfil his vow, rode to 
 the gates of Paris in time of war, and struck 
 at the barriers with his spear, so as to ex- 
 cite the astonishment and admiration of the 
 French, will exhibit an instance of the spirit 
 and disposition which were attributed to 
 the enemies of chivalry ; for the historian 
 proceeds to mention, that the knight " as 
 he passed on the pavement, found before 
 him a bocher, a bygge man, who had well 
 seen this knight pass by ; and he helde in 
 his handes a sharpe hevy axe with a long 
 poynt ; and as the knight returned agayne 
 and tooke no heed, this bocher came on his 
 syde, and gave the knight suche a stroke be- 
 twene the necke and the shoulders, that he 
 
20 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 reversed forwards heedlynge to the necke 
 of his horse, and yet he recovered agayne : 
 and than the bocher strake him agayne, so 
 that the axe entered into his body, so that 
 for payne the knight fell to the earth, and 
 his horse ranne away and came to the 
 squyer who abode for his master at the 
 stretes end and so the squire rode for- 
 ward to look for his master, " and anone 
 he sawe where he lay upon the erthe, bytwene 
 foure men, laying on him strokes as they wolde 
 have stryken on a stethy ; and than the squyer 
 was so affrayed, that he durst go no far- 
 ther, for he saw well he coude nat helpe 
 his maister ; therefore he retourned as fast 
 as he might. So there the said knyght was 
 slayne : and the knyghts who were at the 
 gates caused him to be buryed in holy 
 grounde # " In like manner it is recorded 
 
 * The massacre of the Glencoes in Scotland is ano- 
 ther instance ; and it is singular to remark, that the 
 parties who perpetrated and winked at this treachery, 
 were those who deny all this doctrine of chivalry. 
 There are other parts in these examples, which closely 
 resemble the conduct of our English mobs at the pre- 
 sent day. It is easy to point out their love of fair play 
 at a prize fight, or at a rencontre in the street, where 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 21 
 
 of Sir Robert Sale in Wat Tyler's rebellion, 
 that he fought on foot the mob of 4000 
 persons, who after they had at length slain 
 him, cut off his arms and legs, and then 
 struck his body all to pieces. 
 
 " Parcere subjectiset debellare superbos," 
 which words, says Mde. de Stael, " ren- 
 ferment tout ce qu'il y a de jivin dans le 
 cceur de rhomme," might be selected as 
 the motto of chivalry and of every gentle- 
 man ; but if I were called upon to give any 
 line that would express the general spirit 
 and character of the churl in all ages, as 
 proved by history and the opinions and re- 
 cords of men, I would say take this line, 
 and the converse will display the portrait 
 required. " La vaillance," says Montagne, 
 and he was not a man to flatter the nobi- 
 lity, or to like any chivalrous opinion as 
 such, " de qui c'est PefFect de s'exercer 
 seulement contre la resistence, 
 
 " Nec nisi bellantis gaudet cervice juvenci. 
 
 the contrary would create a riot, and so interrupt their 
 sport ; but no gentleman who has ever encountered 
 them with the mask off, will give them credit for a love 
 of honour and fair play. 
 
22 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 € i S'arreste a voir Pennemy h sa mercy : 
 mais la laschete, pour dire qu'elle est aussi 
 de la feste, n'ayant peu se mesler a ce pre- 
 mier roole, prend pour sa part le second, 
 du massacre et du sang. Les meurtres des 
 victoires, se font ordinairement par le peu- 
 ple, et par les officiers du bagage : et ce 
 qui fait voir tant de cruautez, inouyes aux 
 guerres populaires, c'est que cette canaille 
 de vulgaire s'aguerrit, et se gendarme a 
 s'en sanglenter, jusques aux coudes, et a 
 deschigneter un corps a ses pieds, n'ayant 
 resentiment d'autre vaillance. 
 
 " Et lupus et turpes instant morientibus ursi, 
 Et quacunque minor nobilitate fera est : 
 
 " Comme les chiens couards, qui deschi- 
 rent en la maison, et mordent les peaux 
 des bestes sauvages, qu'ils n'ont ose at- 
 taquer aux champs." 
 
 Another instance is presented by Frois- 
 sart, when he relates the cruel slaughter 
 of the gallant young Lord Water of Dang- 
 hien and his comrades, by the citizens of 
 Ghent, who caught them in ambush and 
 fought them, an hundred against one ; and 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 23 
 
 when they had slain the Lord Danghien 
 " they had great joy" says Froissart. The 
 Earl of Flaunders " night and day made 
 great sorrow for his death, and sayd, ' O 
 Water, Water, my fayre son, what adven- 
 ture is this, thus to fall on you in your 
 youthe.' Then the Erie sende to Gaunt 
 to have agayne the body of the Lord of 
 Danghien, the whiche the Gauntoysse wolde 
 not delyver. Then the Erie sende them a 
 thousande frankes to have his body, the 
 which the Gauntoyss dyde divide amonge 
 themself ; and so the body of the Lord was 
 brought into the hoost." These were the 
 men whose embassadors in London were 
 laughed at by the English for their inso- 
 lence and avarice. " They demande to be 
 comforted, sayd the lords among them- 
 selfe, and say how they have nede thereof, 
 and yet for all that they demande to have our 
 money. It is no reasonable request that 
 we shulde both ayde and pay." Sir John 
 Froissart rejoices in the triumph of the 
 French arms over these Flemish rebels. 
 The infection had spread over great part 
 of France w r here the villaynes rebelled and 
 
 6 
 
24 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 thretened the gentlemen, ladyes, and chyl- 
 dren. " The dyvell was entred into their 
 heads to have slayne all noblemen if God 
 had not purveyed of remedy and he pro- 
 nounces the battle of Rosebeque, in which 
 the Flemish rebels were defeated, to have 
 been " right honourable for all Christen- 
 dom, and for all nobleness, for if these 
 sayd villaynes had atchyved their ententes, 
 there had never so greate crueltie have 
 ben sene before in all the worlde, for the 
 comonties in dyvers countries had re- 
 belled." And the same historian observes 
 of the English rebels who followed Wat 
 Tyler in the reign of Richard II. " these 
 unhappy people showted and cryed so 
 loude as thoughe all the dyvylles of hell 
 had bene among them # . There were some 
 
 * I would beg leave here to remind the reader of 
 the description which is given of a revolutionary mob, 
 by Madame de Stael in her work on the French Re- 
 volution. ct Leurs physionomies etoient emprientes 
 de cette grossierete morale et physique dont on ne 
 peut supporter le degout quelque philanthrope que 
 Pon soit. — lis offroient un spectacle epouvantable et 
 qui pourroit alterer a jamais le respect que la race 
 humaine doit inspirer." A similar testimony occurs 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 25 
 
 that desyred nothynge but richesse and the 
 utter destruction of the noble men, and to 
 have London robbed and pylled, and to 
 slee all the rich and honest persons." And 
 
 in the introduction of that celebrated discourse, which 
 was delivered by La Harpe, upon the opening of the 
 Lyceum, on the 31st of December, 1794. " II mc 
 semble les voir encore, ces brigands, sous le nom de 
 patriotes, ces oppresseurs de la nation, sous le nom 
 de magistrats du peuple, se repandre en foule parmi 
 nous avec leur vetement grotesque, qu'ils appeloient 
 exclusivement celui du patriotisme, comme si le pa- 
 triotisme devoit absolument etre ridicule et sale, avec 
 leur ton grossier et leur langage brutal qu'ils appel- 
 loient republicain, comme si la grossierete et Pin- 
 decence etaient essentiellement republicaines ; avec 
 leur visage hagard et leurs yeux troubles et farouchcs, 
 indices de la mauvaise conscience, jetant de tous 
 cotes des regards a la fois stupides et menagans sur les 
 instrumens des sciences dont ils ne connoissaient pas 
 meme le nom, sur les monumens des arts qui leur 
 etoient si etrangers, sur les bustes de ces grands 
 hommes dont a peine ils avoient entendu parler ; et 
 Pon ent dit que Paspect de toute cette pompe litte- 
 raire, de tout ce luxe innocent, de toutes ces richesses 
 de Pesprit et du talent, reveilloit en eux cette haine 
 sourde et feroce, cette rage interne, cachee dans les 
 plus noirs replis de Pamour-propre, et qui souleve en 
 secret Phomme ignorant et pervers contre tout ce qui 
 vant mieux que lui." 
 
 C 
 
26 THE BItOAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 of the Jacquerie he sums up the character 
 in these expressive words : " qui plus fai- 
 soit de maux et de villains faits, tels que 
 creature humaine ne devroit n'oseroit pen- 
 ser, celui estoit le plus prise entre eux et 
 le plus grand maistre." Kaxo* S' 6 pwo n ^pcov 
 Kaxov, says Euripides of the Jacquerie in 
 his time * ; and these were now the men 
 " qui pensoient qu'ils deussent destruire 
 tous les nobles et gentils-hommes du 
 monde." 
 
 Who poor of heart and prodigal of words, 
 Born to be slaves and struggling to be lords, 
 But pant for licence while they spurn controul, 
 And shout for rights with rapine in their soul. 
 
 Certainly, if " popular fury, that dares 
 to trample on superstition, be deaf," as 
 Mr. Gibbon observes, " to the cries of hu- 
 manity," it need not excite wonder, that 
 when it is directed against the most anci- 
 ent and venerable institutions among man- 
 kind, it should exhibit such instances as 
 these. 
 
 " It is not convenient," said the Duke 
 
 * Hecuba. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 27 
 
 of Burgundy, when he promised to assist 
 the Earl of Flaunders, f that such raskall 
 shoulde be suffred to rule a countrey : for 
 by them chyvalry and gentylness myght 
 be destroyed, ye, and consequently all 
 Christendom." — " Such descriptions of 
 men," says Mr. Burke, " ought not to 
 suffer oppression from the state ; but the 
 state suffers oppression, if such as they, 
 * either individually or collectively, are per- 
 mitted to rule." 
 
 So much then for the character of the 
 churl, who is the enemy of your religion, 
 and of your race, and of all that is con- 
 tained in this book, pertaining to honour. 
 
 Were it not irrelevant to the object which 
 I have in view it would not be difficult nor 
 would it be disagreeable to demonstrate 
 the advantages which flow from the insti- 
 tution of hereditary rank and superior pri- 
 vilege. The division of labour is found to 
 be of utility in the execution of the arts 
 and in the study of the sciences ; and in 
 like manner the distinctions of rank may 
 be regarded as the division of virtue, which 
 is essential to the developement of the dif- 
 c 2 
 
28 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ferent qualities which exalt the character 
 of our nature. With what force of philo- 
 sophy and genius does Shakspeare proclaim 
 this truth ? 
 
 " Take but degree away, untune that string, 
 And, hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets 
 In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters 
 Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, 
 And make a sop of all this solid globe. 
 Strength should be lord of imbecility, 
 And the rude son should strike his father dead. 
 Force should be right ; or rather right and wrong, 
 Between whose endless jar justice resides, 
 Should lose their names, and so should justice too. 
 Then every thing includes itself in power, 
 Power into will, will into appetite, 
 And appetite, an universal wolf, 
 So doubly seconded with will and power, 
 Must make per force an universal prey, 
 
 And, last, eat up himself." 
 
 Troilus and Cressida, Act I. sc. 3. 
 
 It is not, however, upon any such philo- 
 sophical speculations that we must rest the 
 authority for our claim. Let us then ho- 
 nestly confess that it is upon the Bible alone, 
 as the word of God, that we take our stand, 
 Since we receive Christianity, since that 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 29 
 
 Religion has sanctioned the institution # , 
 since it has prescribed rules for the poor 
 and for the rich, since it has inculcated 
 duties which cannot be discharged in a 
 state of republican equality, since the ana- 
 logy of Scripture confirms the appointment, 
 there can be no need of any further en- 
 quiry, to those who are the servants of 
 Christ. 
 
 * Again I refer the reader to the Treatise de la 
 Grandeur, by Nicole. He shews that we ought to re- 
 spect the great, not merely out of respect for public 
 opinion, but even " for conscience sake," since their 
 rank is but a participation of the authority of God, 
 from whom alone all power proceeds, and therefore he 
 argues, M il est digne d'un respect veritable et inte- 
 rieur." He comments upon the Scripture precept, 
 i( not to speak evil of dignities." " C'est pourquoi 
 c'est une chose tres-contraire a la veritable piete, que 
 la liberte que le commun du monde se donnc de d£crier 
 la conduite de ceux qui gouvernent. Car outre que 
 Pon en parle souvent temerairement et contre la verity, 
 parce qu'on n'en est pas toujours assez informe ; on 
 en parle presque toujours avec injustice parce que Pon 
 imprime dans les autres par ces sortes de discours une 
 disposition contraire a celle que Dieules oblige d'avoir 
 pour ceux dont il se sert pour les gouverner," not 
 merely politically but morally; that is, to influence 
 them by example. 
 
 c 3 
 
30 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 I shall proceed immediately to develope 
 the sentiments which have directed me in 
 the present attempt ; and to this end I 
 shall call your attention to six divisions, 
 in which I shall treat of the Dignity, the 
 Religion, the Virtue, the Profession, the 
 Acquirements, and the External Condition 
 which are essential or suitable to the order 
 of which you are a member. 
 
THE 
 
 natgnttg of ft>t <&vtftv. 
 
 The observations which I have already had 
 occasion to make, may have awakened 
 your attention to this subject. They may 
 have reminded you that something more is 
 niecessary than the name to give you a le- 
 gitimate title to the rank in which your 
 birth and education will place you. My 
 endeavour in the present instance must be 
 to convince you of this more fully. 
 
 We date the origin of our order from the 
 early institutions which took place in Eu- 
 rope after the Christian Religion had been 
 generally received : and it is therefore in 
 the principles of ancient chivalry, in the 
 character of the knights and barons of the 
 middle ages, that we must look for the 
 virtues and the sentiments which are to be 
 our inheritance. Here then, at the very 
 first step, we shall be convinced of the 
 c 4 
 
32 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 dignity which was ascribed to this charac- 
 ter. Not to detain you with the observa- 
 tions of those reasoners who took pains to 
 shew the analogy between this order and 
 that of the higher Clergy, in both a supe- 
 rior purity and grandeur of character being 
 regarded as essential, and both being con- 
 sidered as of divine appointment. I shall 
 find repeated opportunities to demonstrate 
 the fact, in presenting you with extracts 
 from the early writers. 
 
 Degeneracy of mind, united with ambi- 
 tion, is not the peculiar characteristic of 
 any age, and the unworthy pretender of 
 our own time to the title and privilege of 
 a gentleman, will find examples of the same 
 conduct in the ages of remote antiquity. 
 Even in the infancy of the institution there 
 were found men, either so hardy as to 
 assume a character to which they had no 
 title, and thus to brave the judgment of 
 mankind, or so vain and short sighted as 
 to imagine that they could escape detec- 
 tion : but there never were wanting those 
 who would oppose themselves to the out- 
 rage of truth and of honour, to hypocrisy 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 33 
 
 of every kind whether in religion or in 
 virtue. " He who does not possess these 
 virtues," says the poet Arnaud de Marvelh, 
 " though he may have the name of cheva- 
 lier, I do not regard him as a knight." As 
 Talbot exclaims when he plucks off the 
 garter from the " craven leg" of Falstaff, 
 
 " He then that is not furnished in this sort 
 Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, 
 Profaning this most honourable order, 
 And should (if I were worthy to be judge) 
 Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain, 
 That doth presume to boast of gentle blood 
 
 Such was the integrity and independence 
 attached to the members of the order, that 
 their opinion and advice were taken upon 
 occasions of difficulty, and kings were 
 warned not to disregard their decision f. 
 
 * Shakspeare, Hen. VI. 1st Part, Act IV. Scene 1. 
 f Qui que preudomme ait conseiller 
 Soit Rois ou Quens, je le conseille 
 Pour s'onnour, croire son conseil. 
 What service might a gentleman in the country 
 render to his tenants, and to the neighbourhood at 
 large, if he would attend appeals to his judgment $ 
 and if the people had that confidence in his virtue, 
 as to trust their disputes to his decision ! I under- 
 c 5 
 
34 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 A knight was not admitted to take part 
 at a Tournament who had committed an 
 action unworthy of his birth. If he was so 
 hardy as to appear, he was instantly dis- 
 armed by order of the Judge, and placed upon 
 a certain spot of the barriers, to undergo 
 for an entire day the insults of the mob. 
 This was the law of Tournaments. 
 
 Nothing indeed will display in a stronger 
 light the dignity which was attached to 
 this character, than the detail of the pro- 
 cess which was pursued in the case of 
 knights who had dishonoured their profes- 
 sion. " The knight/' says Ste Palaye, 
 whom I translate, f? was at first conducted 
 upon a scaffold, where his arms and the 
 different pieces of armour, the nobility of 
 which he had tarnished, were broken in 
 his presence, and trampled under foot. The 
 Priests, after reciting the vigils of the 
 dead, pronounced upon him the hundred 
 
 stand that this was the practice of the late Marquis 
 of Londonderry, upon his estate in Ireland, where 
 the people thankfully and cheerfully submitted to 
 his arbitration, as they will always do under similar 
 circumstances. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 35 
 
 and ninth Psalm, which contains many 
 imprecations and maledictions against trai- 
 tors. Three times, the king or the herald 
 at arms, demanded the name of the cri- 
 minal; each time the poursuivant at arms 
 declared his name, and the herald replied 
 that this was not the name of the person 
 before them, since he saw in him only a 
 traitor, a rebel, and a faith-breaker,— -foy 
 mentie. Then taking from the hands of the 
 poursuivant at arms, a bason filled with 
 hot water, he threw it with indignation 
 upon the head of the infamous knight, to 
 wash away the sacred character which had 
 been conferred upon him. The criminal, 
 thus degraded, was let down from the 
 scaffold by a cord passed under his arms, 
 and placed upon a hurdle, which was co- 
 vered with a funeral cloth. Finally, he 
 was carried to the Church, where the usual 
 prayers and ceremonies were used which 
 are practised for the dead." How would 
 the manners of the present age endure such 
 a trial as this ? If every gentleman that 
 was received under that title, who had 
 broken his word, neglected his post, or 
 c 6 
 
36 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 who had committed any mean or unjust 
 act, who was not, according to the lan- 
 guage of the age, " sans reproche," was 
 to undergo the execution of this sentence ; 
 or was to be exposed to the censure of his 
 equals ? It is material to remark, that by 
 a clause in the statutes of the Order of the 
 Star # , there was a power of expiation for 
 an act of cowardice or of neglect, but one 
 base or unjust action was for ever fatal. 
 What then must have been the dignity and 
 privilege of that order, the forfeiture of 
 which, by an unworthy action, was equi- 
 valent to death ? Far from being inferior 
 to the dignity of regal power, even kings 
 considered themselves as deriving their 
 chief glory from the profession ; and to 
 the present hour, the title of gentleman is 
 the highest in the landf- To be as noble 
 as the King was the Castilian's pride. It 
 
 * Of don n des rois de France. T. xi. p. 466. 
 
 f The distinctions of rank are founded upon the 
 common ground of nobility, which is alluded to in 
 the maxim, that, M un Gentilhomme n'est pas plus? 
 gentilhomme qu'un autre," See Dissertation ix. sur 
 PHistoire de S. Louis. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 37 
 
 was the pride of Diomedes when he said to 
 Agamemnon, 
 
 Sot 0*6 diavdix a Sukb Kpova ttcliq dyicvXofiriTW ■ 
 ^2Krj7TTp<i> fiev rot dwice TSTLfJirjd^ai irept iravTMV 
 'AXktjv d' ov rot dojKev, o, re Kparog sort fieyiGroi/, 
 
 " The two titles of nobility and gentry/' 
 says Gwillim, " are of equal esteem in the 
 use of Heraldry, though custome hath 
 equally divided them, and applied the first 
 to gentry of the highest degree, and the 
 latter to nobles of the lowest rank." The 
 king can give a patent of nobility # , but 
 he cannot bestow the inheritance of virtue. 
 The king can reward his favourite with 
 wealth and with an honourable office, but 
 he cannot command the riches of the heart 
 or the sentiments of honour ; 
 
 Princes and Lords may flourish, and may fade, 
 A breath can make them as a breath has made. 
 
 * A modern author attends to this capital distinc- 
 tion, in a note to one of his Poems, where he alludes 
 to Lord Walpole, as being obnoxious, first because 
 he was a gentleman, and secondly because he was a 
 nobleman. 
 
38 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 But you, — 
 
 Flos veterum virtusque virum, 
 
 can boast of an inalienable privilege. How 
 grand and eloquent are the words of Pierre 
 Cardinal, the old satiric Poet of Pro- 
 vence, in allusion to Simon de Montfort ! 
 " L'archeveque de Narbonne et le roi de 
 France ne sont point assez habiles pour 
 faire un homme d'honneur d'un mechant 
 homme. lis peuvent bien lui donner de 
 Tor, de Targent des habits des vins et des 
 vivres ; mais de la bonte, il n'y a que Dieu 
 qui en donne." Queen Elizabeth, amidst 
 the omnipotence of her prerogative, de- 
 clared her inability. Henry the Fourth, 
 and Francis the First, of France, regarded 
 the title of gentlemen as the highest that 
 could belong to them # ; and it is impos- 
 sible not to be reminded of the answer 
 which Charles VI gave to his father when 
 
 * Francis the 1st. in writing to Charles Vth. 
 signed himself " Francois, premier gentilhomme de 
 France." And the saying of Henry IV. is famous ; 
 " la qualite de gentilhomme' etant le plus beau titre 
 que nous possedions." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 39 
 
 he offered him the choice of a crown of 
 gold or of a helmet, as the badge of that 
 chivalry which he professed to admire. 
 " Monseigneur," exclaimed the young 
 prince with energy, " donnez-moi le casque 
 et gardez votre couronne." 
 
 Such then is the dignity of your high 
 title. Remember that there is no alterna- 
 tive for you, between this and infamy : 
 remember that as the pomp of false humi- 
 lity is the greatest pride, so the sentiments 
 of honourable pride are the most humble # . 
 
 * If we had to select any class of persons, who 
 have been most conspicuous for the exercise of un- 
 ostentatious humble virtue, it would be the Princes 
 of the House of Austria. Many of these illustrious 
 individuals have been in the daily practice of acts of 
 beneficence, which the most eloquent panegyrist of 
 Christian humility would frequently disdain. The 
 Empress Eleonora, notwithstanding the very harsh, 
 and, I think, very unjust observations of Mr. Cox, 
 might be quoted as a striking example ; and chiefly 
 to represent the general character of her house in 
 these particulars. The last choice of these Princes, 
 is worthy of their faith. The coffins of the Caesars, 
 are placed in a vault under the convent of the Ca- 
 puchins, the bare-footed Friars, the poorest of the 
 religious orders, alternately the objects and the dis- 
 pensers of mercy. 
 
40 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 It is one of the golden maxims of Pytha- 
 goras, 
 
 TtavTwv § fiakicrr alff^vveo aavrov. 
 
 Let no man deceive you with hypocritical 
 sophistry. This is a pride which the im- 
 moral hate, and at which the profane trem- 
 ble. Where this pride is absent in persons 
 of your birth, there will be vice and irre- 
 ligion, levity and scepticism, indolence and 
 despair. 
 
THE 
 
 Religion of tftt ©tKett 
 
 From what we have had occasion already 
 to observe with regard to the origin and 
 authority of the institution, it is clear that 
 you are bound to believe and to maintain 
 the Christian faith. An infidel gentleman # 
 is an impossible character; or rather 
 the expression is an error of language, 
 since the very act of rejecting Christianity 
 must exclude us from the order. Joinville 
 relates a saying of S. Louis, when a Mus- 
 sulman entered his prison with a drawn 
 sword, crying, " fais-moi chevalier ouje te 
 tue to which the king replied, " fais-toi 
 chretien, et je te ferai chevalier." In 
 Spain, when nobility was to be made out, 
 it was necessary to prove a descent by both 
 parents from " Vijos Christianos," that is, 
 
 * But it would be correct to say, an infidel Lord, 
 or Duke, who receives and honours infidels. 
 
42 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 from ancient Christians, the blemish to be 
 apprehended being an alliance with the 
 Jewish or Moorish blood. You never ob- 
 serve that we attend to the family or he- 
 reditary honour of the Moors or Indians, 
 although certainly there are individuals 
 and clans among these nations who can 
 trace the antiquity of their name to a very 
 remote period. We are told by Mr. Gib- 
 bon, that the family of Confucius have 
 maintained above 2200 years # their peace- 
 ful honours and perpetual succession ; yet 
 it would be incorrect to adopt his conclu- 
 sion, that it is therefore u the most illus- 
 trious in the world," as it was ridiculons 
 in the person who boasted of Washington 
 as an ancestor, when the only alliance con- 
 sisted in both being natives of America. 
 
 If we examine the records of chivalry 
 and the history of Europe from the com- 
 mencement of that institution, we shall 
 meet with convincing and indeed affecting 
 proofs that the Catholic faith was the very 
 
 * We are not concerned to prove the mistake of 
 Mr. Gibbon. In his judgment of this computation he 
 had contracted the common error. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 43 
 
 basis of the character which belonged to 
 the knight ; that piety was to be the rule 
 and motive of his actions, and the source 
 of every virtue which his conduct was to 
 display. Whatever lessons may have been 
 at other times inculcated, it cannot but be 
 remembered that the first precept which 
 was pressed upon the mind of youth was 
 the love of God 5 a precept too momentous 
 to be effaced by any subsequent instruc- 
 tion, the inconsistency of which we might 
 be disposed to censure. *l The precepts 
 of Religion," says M. S te Palaye, who was 
 certainly no prejudiced writer, " left at the 
 bottom of the heart a kind of veneration 
 for holy things which sooner or later ac- 
 quired the ascendancy." 
 
 Nothing can be more easy than for the 
 modern philosopher or man of dissipated 
 habits, to ridicule and to hold up to con- 
 tempt those early precepts of chivalry. 
 Nothing can be more easy than for the 
 pious to be in astonishment and for the 
 ignorant to condemn them j but I would 
 exhort the men of the present day to take 
 
44 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 heed lest their ridicule may only prove the 
 vacuity of their own degenerate and vi- 
 tiated hearts, lest their wonder may be at 
 a shadow, lest their censure may be unjust. 
 An age of civilization is incapable of com- 
 prehending an age of simplicity. We may 
 decypher the manuscripts, but we cannot 
 catch the spirit of the dead. What we 
 may have perverted and annihilated, they 
 may have used and possessed without of- 
 fence. What may be our vice, may have 
 been their virtue. And certainly if we 
 could but suppose that the men of former 
 time could take an interest in the judge- 
 ment of a perishing generation, if they 
 could desire to vindicate themselves from the 
 charges which have been cast upon their 
 memory, they might be comforted in wit- 
 nessing the very extravagance of those 
 who have condemned them, in beholding 
 Fenelon accused of licentiousness, and 
 martyrs of hypocrisy ; ridicule exalted as 
 the test of truth, and sentiment despised 
 as the production of folly, infidelity in ho- 
 nour, and virtue without reward. A love 
 
THE BfcOAD STONE OF HONOUR. 45 
 
 of the Christian faith was the very soul of 
 chivalry # . Every one has heard of the 
 generous exclamation of Clovis, when he 
 was first made acquainted with the passion 
 and death of Christ — " Had I been present 
 at the head of my valiant Franks, I would 
 have revenged his injuries." An expres- 
 sion which did not bespeak the clearness 
 of his religious views, but which certainly 
 evinced the sincerity and the affection of 
 his heart. And here I must presume to 
 remind you, that in observing this peculiar 
 character of chivalrous devotion — the love 
 of God, you have at once an evidence that 
 the religion of your ancestors was far less 
 removed from the true spirit of Chris- 
 tianity, than many have too hastily con- 
 cluded from an imperfect acquaintance 
 
 * This is strongly signified in the ancient mottoes 
 of our great families. 
 
 Thus the noble family of Seymour, Dukes of So- 
 merset, bear for their motto : — Foy pour devoir. 
 
 The Barons de la Zouch : — Pro deo et Ecclesia. 
 
 Ker, Dukes of Roxburgh :— Pro Christo et Patria, 
 dulce periculum. 
 
 Edwardes, Barons of Kensington Gardez la foy. 
 
46 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 with history. For let this truth be ever 
 uppermost in your memory (though it is a 
 precept of religion it is not therefore to be 
 excluded from our consideration in this 
 place) that it is the motive rather than the 
 action which is peculiar to the religion of 
 Christ. " A sound heart," says the wise 
 man, " is the life of the flesh and the 
 Scripture has pronounced, that " while 
 man looketh on the outward appearance the 
 Lord looketh on the heart." Now the re- 
 ligion of chivalry was altogether the reli- 
 gion of motives and of the heart. It was 
 love, faith, hope, gratitude, joy, fidelity, 
 honour, mercy ; it was a devotion of mind 
 and strength, of the whole man, of his soul 
 and body to the discharge of duty, and to 
 the sacrifice of every selfish and dishonour- 
 able feeling that was contrary ; it was to 
 obey a commandment which was in unison 
 with all the elevated sentiments of nature, 
 and calculated most effectually to develope 
 every quality that was the object of esteem 
 and reverence. The knights of old had 
 neither the inclination nor the ingenuity to 
 determine the minimum of love which was 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 47 
 
 compatible with the faith of Christ. They 
 had not established it as the men of whom 
 Pascal speaks, or adopted it as thou- 
 sands who are not conscious of their own 
 thoughts ; who regard it sufficient if they 
 love God at any time before death, or on 
 the festivals, or if they keep the command- 
 ments and do not hate God, or who imagine 
 that this burthensome obligation of loving 
 him was part of the Mosaic law, which 
 is dispensed with by the religion of nature 
 and the Gospel ; they had not subsided 
 into that state of profound indifference to 
 the truths of religion which the eloquent 
 Massillon has compared to the condition of 
 Lazarus, when the disciples said, " Lord, 
 if he sleeps he will do well \" and were 
 undeceived when Jesus said unto them 
 plainly, " Lazarus is dead." But their 
 affections were warm, their gratitude was 
 sincere, and though their understanding 
 on the doctrines of religion might some- 
 times fail them, their hearts did not. 
 They were thankful under every circum- 
 stance of life, and like the Prophet of old, 
 it was their boast * although the fig-tree 
 
48 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in 
 the vines ; the labour of the olive shall 
 fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; 
 the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and 
 there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet I 
 will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the 
 God of my salvation # ." They were slain 
 in battle, they were cut off in the flower of 
 their youth and in the moment of victory, 
 yet they could exult in the words of the 
 Psalmist, " my flesh and my heart faileth, 
 but God is the strength of my heart, and 
 my portion for ever f." 
 
 ** Thenne," said Bors, " hit is more than 
 yere and an half, that I ne lay ten tymes 
 where men dwelled, but in wylde forestes 
 and in mountains, but God was ever my 
 comforte f 
 
 The defence of the Christian faith was 
 the office and the pride of the ancient 
 nobles. The duty of a knight, says the 
 writer in a work which is quoted by S te 
 Palaye, " is to maintain the Catholic faith, 
 
 * Hab. iii. 17. f Psalm lxxiii. 25. 
 
 X Mortc <T Arthur, lib. xvii. cap. 19. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 49 
 
 and the learned academician presents his 
 reader with a passage from Eustache Des- 
 champs : — 
 
 Chevalier en ce monde cy 
 Ne peuvent vivre sans soucy : 
 lis doivent le peuple defendre 
 Et leur sang pour la foi espandre. 
 
 Perfectly agreeable to these injunctions 
 was the conduct of the ancient nobility. 
 The cross of Christ was no sooner lifted up 
 as the standard under which the defenders 
 of the faith were to rally, than all Europe 
 was united in a band of brothers to worship 
 the Saviour of mankind. Germany, France, 
 and England poured forth the flower of 
 their youth and nobility ; men who were 
 led by no base interest or selfish expecta- 
 tion, but who went with single hearts re- 
 nouncing the dearest blessings of their 
 country and station to defend the cause 
 that they loved, and to protect from insult 
 and wrong the persecuted servants of their 
 Saviour. Saint Louis of France, the Lion- 
 hearted Richard of England # , Godefroy of 
 
 * Michaud, in his History of the Crusades, is not 
 led away by any enthusiasm for the character of Rich- 
 D 
 
50 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Bouillon, Robert Count of Flanders, Ro- 
 bert Duke of Normandy, Raimond Count 
 Toulouse, Hughes the Great, Stephen Count 
 of Chartres and Blois, Tancrede de Haute- 
 ville, Baldwin and Eustache, Josselin de 
 Courtenay, Gerald founder of the hospital 
 of St. John at Jerusalem, Raimond Dupuy 
 the first military grand master, Hugues de 
 Payens founder of the order of the Tem- 
 plars, Folques Count of Anjou. These, 
 with the bravest and most noble of their 
 generation, hastened to proclaim to the 
 world by their deeds and devotion, that the 
 Saviour of mankind was dear to them. They 
 gave an evidence of their sincerity which 
 was unquestionable. Witness the heroism 
 
 ard, though his expressions are sufficiently strong in 
 testimony of his heroism. tc Les plus violents raur- 
 mures/' he observes, " eclataient contre Richard, qui 
 repondait a ses ennemis par des traits de bravoure, 
 dignes d'Amadis et de Roland." In the Pieces justifi- 
 catives, at the end of the 2d volume, he has inserted 
 an extract from a MS. chronicle of the 13th century 
 in the Sorbonne collection, which relates the parti- 
 culars of the discovery of the king by Blondel. The 
 remarks of Mr. Gibbon upon the character of Richard, 
 and the events he was engaged in, can be to us only 
 amusing. See his Miscellaneous Works, Vol. v. p. 488. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 51 
 
 and fidelity of Renaud de Chatillon, grand 
 Master of the Templars, who refused life 
 upon condition of apostacy, and was be- 
 headed by the hand of Saladin. Witness 
 also that of the crowd of knights of the 
 two orders, who suffered themselves to be 
 massacred in prison by order of the same 
 infidel rather than renounce Jesus Christ. 
 Vertot relates, that the Chevalier de Teme- 
 ricourt, after gallantly defeating the Turkish 
 fleet, was forced by a tempest upon the 
 coast of Barbary, where he was taken pri- 
 soner. He was led to Tripoli, and thence 
 to Adrianople, where he was presented to 
 Mahomet III. who asked him if he was the 
 man who had fought five of his great ships. 
 II Moi-meme," replied the knight. " Of 
 what nation* are you?" demanded the Sul- 
 tan. " Fran§ois," said Temericourt. " Then 
 you are a deserter," continued Mahomet, 
 " for there is a solemn league between me 
 and the king of France." " Je suis Fran- 
 cois," said Temericourt, " mais, outre cette 
 qualite, j'ai celle d'etre chevalier de Malte, 
 profession qui m'oblige a exposer ma vie 
 contre tous les ennemis du nom Chretien." 
 d 2 
 
52 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 He was conducted to prison, where he was 
 at first well treated ; every expedient was 
 tried to prevail upon a youtH of twenty-two 
 years, to renounce his religion. He was 
 offered a princess of the blood in marriage, 
 and the office of grand admiral. But all in 
 vain ; the grand seigneur became irritated ; 
 the prisoner was thrown into a dungeon, 
 where he was beaten with rods, and tor- 
 tured ; but this generous confessor of Jesus 
 Christ did only invoke his name and pray 
 for his grace. Finally, he was beheaded 
 by command of the grand seigneur. The 
 emperor Commenus was taken at the sur- 
 render of Trebizonde, where he was con- 
 ducted by Mahomet to Constantinople. 
 Here new terms were forced upon him, 
 either to renounce the faith or to die. The 
 Greek emperor, who had consented to sur- 
 render his empire to the conqueror, now re- 
 calling the ancient sentiments of religion, 
 which ambition had suppressed, preferred 
 death to apostacy ; and he had the conso- 
 lation to witness seven of his sons possessed 
 of the same fidelity. The conduct of the 
 brave mareschal, Gaspard de Vallier, go- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 53 
 
 vernor of Tripoli, is well known : that of 
 the chevalier, Abel de Bricliers de la Gar- 
 dampe, during the memorable siege of 
 Malta, is also remarkable. Having received 
 a mortal wound, he would not permit his 
 comrades to remove him from the spot, 
 saying, " ne me comptez plus au nombre 
 des vivans ; vos soins seront mieux em- 
 ployes a defendre nos autres freres." He 
 crawled into the chapel of the castle, and 
 expired at the foot of the altar, in recom- 
 mending his soul to God. On the eve of 
 the 23d of June, the Turks being resolved 
 to make the assault the following morning, 
 the knights who defended the fort, having 
 lost all hope of succour, received the sa- 
 crament in the dead of the night. They 
 then embraced one another, and retired to 
 their respective posts to fulfil their last 
 duty, by delivering up their souls to God. 
 The wounded were carried to the breach in 
 chairs, where they sat with their swords 
 grasped with both hands. They were killed 
 to a man; and Mustapha ordered their 
 dead bodies, after being cut into crosses 
 and fastened to boards, to be cast into the 
 d 3 
 
54 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sea # . These men may have been mistaken 
 in their apprehension of some particulars 
 in the religion of the Gospel, but they could 
 not have been wanting in affection and sin- 
 cerity : they might have erred in many in- 
 stances of their conduct, led astray by 
 hasty passion, unavoidable ignorance, or 
 the influence of peculiar circumstances 
 which occurred in that period of the world. 
 It is human nature to offend, and certainly 
 I am far from intending to imply that these 
 men were not obnoxious like ourselves to 
 the judgment of infinite justice and wis- 
 dom, but if they loved much, they had, 
 (what we must seek for ourselves by other 
 measures than a life of worldly-minded 
 policy and sceptical indifference,) the pro- 
 mise of the Saviour, who has formally de- 
 clared in allusion to their state, that '* much 
 would be forgiven." 
 
 There is a beautiful instance of the in- 
 fluence of religion, in the celebrated history 
 of Huon de Bordeaux, peer of France. The 
 
 * The reader will be reminded of the memorable 
 scene in the church of St. Sophia, at Constantinople, 
 upon the last night of the Roman empire. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 55 
 
 emperor Thierry, enraged at the death of 
 his nephews and attendants, who had been 
 killed by Huon, had seized upon his noble 
 wife Esclarmonde, whom he kept in a dun- 
 geon, with a number of attendants, intend- 
 ing at a future time to put them all to death. 
 Huon had intelligence of this fatal event, 
 and hastened to Mayence, the place of the 
 emperor's residence. He arrived on Holy 
 Thursday, in the disguise of a pilgrim re- 
 turning from the Holy Land, and besought 
 the maitre d'hotel, whom he first met, to 
 give him food ; this good man was greatly 
 interested by his appearance, and in reply 
 to his demand, if upon the morrow, good 
 Friday, it was not the custom to give li- 
 beral alms, he replied, " Amy, bien pouvez 
 croire certainement que Tempereur fera de- 
 main de grandes aumones, il departira de 
 ses biens tant et si largement que tous 
 pauvres qui la seront venus seront assouvis, 
 car de plus prend'homme ne de plus grand 
 aumonier ou ne pourroit trouver : mais bien 
 vous veux advertir que Pempereur a une 
 contume qu'a celui jour le premier pauvre 
 qui vient au devant de lui est bien heu- 
 d 4 
 
56 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 reux ; car il n'est aujourd'huy chose au 
 monde ne si chere qu'il demande a Pem- 
 pereur qui s'en voise esconduit et y con- 
 vient estre a l'heure qu'il va en sa chapelle 
 faire ses oraisons." Upon this information 
 Huon greatly rejoiced, and resolved to at- 
 tend carefully the following day. That 
 night, the history relates, he slept not, but 
 only thought upon delivering his wife and 
 her fellow-prisoners. " Et fut toute la nuit 
 en oraison en priant Dieu qu'il le voulut 
 conseiller et aider, par quelque maniere il 
 pourra sa femme ravoir." When the morn- 
 ing came he dressed, took his pilgrim's 
 staff, and hastened to the palace, where 
 there were already many poor people ex- 
 pecting the emperor, and each wishing 
 that he might be seen the first, but Huon 
 by his cunning contrived to place himself 
 in so secret a corner that the rest could not 
 see him, and where the emperor assuredly 
 would. The emperor came and entered 
 the chapel, and now the crowd was in 
 anxious expectation till the service should 
 be over. The crisis at length arrived, and 
 Huon, by an artifice which is not worth 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 57 
 
 repeating, attracted attention the first. He 
 then began by informing the emperor, that 
 he came there upon the account of his cus- 
 tom to grant the petition of those who first 
 presented themselves after the service upon 
 that day. " Ami," said the emperor, " bien 
 veux que s§achiez que si vous me demandez 
 quatorze de mes meilleures citez que j'aye 
 je le vous donneray puis que le vous ai 
 promis, ja ne plaise a notre seigneur Jesus 
 Christ, que a Fencontre de ma promisse le 
 vueille aller car mieux aimerois que Fun de 
 mes poings fut coupe tout jusque je fisse 
 une faute, ne qu'a Fencontre de mon ser- 
 ment voulisse aller, et pource demandez 
 seurement et aurez votre demande que ja 
 ne serez refuse." Then Huon demanded 
 first, pardon for himself and for all his 
 who might have offended. " Sire autre 
 chose je ne vous demande," the emperor 
 replied, " pelerin, n'en faites donte quel- 
 conque n' avoir ce que vous ay promis des 
 maintenant je le vous octroye : mais je 
 vous suplie tres-humblement que dire me 
 vueillez quel homme vous etes et de quel 
 pais et de quel lignayes que tel don m'avez 
 n 5 
 
58 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 requis a avoir." " Sire," said Huon, " je 
 suis celui qui souloit estre le Due de Bor- 
 deaux, que tant avez hay, maintenant je 
 viens d'outre mer ou j'ay mainte peine souf- 
 ferte et grande pauvrete, la merci de nostre 
 Seigneur Jesus Christ, j'ay tant fait que je 
 suis revenu et que vers vous suis accorde, 
 et si j'auray ma femme et mes hommes que 
 vous tenez prisoniers et toutes mes terres 
 si votre promesse me voulez tenir." When 
 the emperor heard Huon of Bordeaux, his 
 colour instantly changed, and for a lohg 
 time he was deprived of utterance ; at 
 length he spoke. " Ha Huon de Bordeaux, 
 estes vous celui par qui j'ay tant soufFert 
 de maux et de dommages, qui mes neveux 
 et mes hommes avez occis 5 pas je ne sgay 
 penser comment avez este si hardi de vous 
 avoir montre devant moi, ne estre venu en 
 ma presence, bien m'avez surpris et en- 
 chante : car mieux aimasse avoir perdu 
 quatre de mes meilleures citez, et que tout 
 mon pays fut ars et brusle, et avec ce du 
 tout mon pays je fusse banny trois ans, 
 qu'icy devant moi vous fussiez trouve : 
 mais puisque ainsi est que je suis surpris 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 59 
 
 de vous sgachez de verite que ce que je 
 vous ay promis et jure je le vous tiendray 
 et des maintenant pour l'honneur de la pas- 
 sion de Jesus Christ et du bon jour ou a 
 present sommes par lequel il fut crucifie et 
 mis a mort vous pardonne toute rancune et 
 mal talent, j'a a Dieu ne plaise qu'en soye 
 tenu parjure vostre femme, vos terres, et 
 vos hommes des maintenant je vous rends 
 et mets en vostre main, et en parle qui en 
 voudra parler, ja autre chose n'en sera 
 faite, ne jamais au contraire ne voudray 
 aller." Then the duke Huon threw himself 
 on his knees before the emperor, and be- 
 sought him to forgive the injury which he 
 had done to him. " Huon," said the em- 
 peror, " Dieu le vous vueille pardonner, 
 quant a moi de bon cceur je le vous par- 
 donne." Then the emperor took him by 
 the hand, and gave him the kiss of peace. 
 " Sire," said Huon of Bourdeaux, " grande- 
 ment ai trouve en vous grande grace quand 
 de promesse ne m'avez failly : mais s'il 
 plaist a notre seigneur Jesus Christ le guer- 
 don vous en sera rendu au double." The 
 history then relates, how the prisoners 
 d 6 
 
60 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 were released, and after a splendid enter- 
 tainment, how the emperor accompanied 
 Huon and his train on their journey to his 
 estates at Bourdeaux. 
 
 There is nothing inconsistent in this beau- 
 tiful narrative with the feelings and prac- 
 tice of the age to which it belongs. We 
 may remember, that the approach of Christ- 
 mas induced Godefroy de Bouillon to make 
 peace with Alexis, and the feast of Pen- 
 tecost was regarded as the most advan- 
 tageous season to dispense the honour of 
 knighthood. 
 
 But there were occasions of repeated 
 occurrence on which this devotion of mind 
 was manifested. The emperors upon certain 
 fetes, held a naked sword in their hand, 
 while they read the Gospel, and it was 
 universally the custom for the knights to 
 rise from their seats, and to lift up their 
 swords during this part of the Service in 
 the Church. In Poland this usage con- 
 tinued to prevail, and even to the present 
 day it has so far remained in England, that 
 we stand upon the reading of the Gospel. 
 I exhort you never to rise without recalling 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 61 
 
 to mind the origin of this custom, and re- 
 garding this fine demonstration of faith as 
 the act of your own heart and approval. 
 What an association of ideas must it then 
 excite, to delight the imagination, and to 
 awaken piety ! The thought that you are 
 treading in the steps of the brave and the 
 noble # ; the champions of truth and ho- 
 nour, whose ashes are under your feet, but 
 whose name liveth for evermore. That you 
 are supporting the faith and the character 
 of your ancestors, that like them you are 
 steady, that like them you are proclaiming 
 it to thejworld, that you are avowing your- 
 self the soldier of Christ ; that in an age of 
 spreading infidelity, of hostile preparation, 
 at a day when no man can tell what the 
 
 * I pity the heart of that philosopher who would 
 criticise and condemn those principles of unchange- 
 able fidelity to ancient opinion, which are so proudly 
 proclaimed in the mottos of several great families. 
 
 Thus the noble house of Derby has — Sans changer. 
 
 Of Townshend — Stare super vias antiquas. " Je 
 suis desgouste de la nouvellete," says the philosophic 
 Montague, " quelque visage qu'elle porte, et ay 
 raison." And again, " le meilleur titre de nouvellete 
 est tres-dangereux." 
 
62 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR . 
 
 morrow may bring forth ; when no man 
 can say but that a new persecution may 
 speedily assail the Church of Christ, you 
 are among the number, the countless num- 
 ber, I trust and believe, who will die in 
 her defence ; and that though attacked 
 from without, and deserted from within, 
 she still has sons and soldiers who will be 
 faithful unto death. 
 
 In treating of the religion of your order, 
 we are called upon to explain somewhat 
 more at large what you are to hold with 
 respect to any particular profession of 
 faith. And here the question is at once 
 determined, by declaring your right to the 
 enjoyment of that liberty which is the com- 
 mon privilege of Christians. I cannot un- 
 derstand how any man of piety, learning, 
 and good sense, can deny the enviable 
 superiority which England possesses over 
 every other Christian country in the form 
 of her Church establishment; but bound 
 to her as we are by the reverence resulting 
 from a conviction of her excellence, and by 
 the sentiments of affection which are but 
 the necessary consequences of our relation 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 63 
 
 to her, still let us not fail to remember 
 that our first connection is with the church 
 of Christ throughout the world, of which 
 our own congregation is but a part. I al- 
 lude not to those sects and communities, 
 falsely termed religious, which unhappily 
 have spread over this nation, for with the 
 men who compose them, a gentleman as 
 an ordinary Christian, has nothing to do 
 in the way either of fellowship or of judg- 
 ment : — not in the way of fellowship, since 
 St Paul has said, " if any man obey not 
 our word (and what his word is with re- 
 spect to pride, independance of spirit in 
 matters of religion, self-will, resistance, 
 contempt and schism, I will not suppose 
 you to be ignorant) note that man, and 
 have no company with him, that he may 
 be ashamed not in the way of judgment ; 
 since as the same Apostle has said, " what 
 have I to do to judge them also that are 
 without ? them that are without, God 
 judgeth." But I direct your attention to 
 those congregations of the faithful which 
 exist throughout Christendom, obedient to 
 the same lawful authority, of a church 
 2 
 
64 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 which professes the same Gospel, and the 
 same primitive creeds, which prescribes 
 the same moral duties and the same sanc- 
 tions ; but in which the exteriors of reli- 
 gion, that is, the forms and the ceremonies 
 of worship, with the administration and 
 form of ecclesiastical government, are sub- 
 mitted to the taste, the feelings and the 
 judgment of each particular country. Men 
 of narrow and uncharitable minds are in- 
 capable of comprehending this important 
 lesson. If we should credit the report of 
 our pedantic travellers, who have adopted 
 what Sully so well terms " cet odieux pre- 
 juge," there would be no true religion in 
 any country but our own. " II faut se 
 descharger de ces humeurs vulgaires et 
 nuisibles," the precept of the benevolent 
 father will equally suit the Christian and 
 the temper of a gallant gentleman, u in ne- 
 cessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omni- 
 bus caritas." In relation to this subject, who 
 must not admire the conduct and senti- 
 ments of the great Sully? After being 
 present at the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 
 exposed himself to all its horrors, and to 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 65 
 
 the distractions of the period which fol- 
 lowed it ; he surmounted the prejudices 
 which might have been pardoned even to 
 good men under such circumstances, and 
 he was enabled to distinguish the religion 
 from the impiety of those who supported 
 it. This indeed required qualities of an 
 order almost higher than those which can 
 be received by human nature, yet such 
 were in this instance vouchsafed to the 
 minister of Henry, " fortement persuade," 
 says this great man of his own mind, 
 " comme je l'ai toujours ete quoique cal- 
 viniste, sur l'aveu que j'en ai arrache aux 
 ministres reformes les plus savans, que 
 Dieu n'est pas moins honore dans Teglise 
 catholique que dans la protestante," and 
 that nothing had been capable of making 
 Henry IV. embrace a religion which he 
 had secretly despised, or of the truth of 
 which he even had doubts, this wise and 
 virtuous minister was, as he declares, 
 fully persuaded, and he concludes his tes- 
 timony with that magnificent sentence, 
 " un prince qui n'avoit j'amais trompe les 
 hommes, etoit bien eloigne de vouloir 
 
66 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 tromper Dieu." Madame de Stael, in her 
 Germany, has written a chapter upon this 
 subject, which merits the highest praise. 
 u En quoi different-ils done entre eux ces 
 
 hommes religieux et pourquoi les noms 
 
 de Catholique ou de Protestant les separe- 
 roient-ils ?" All that I mean to say is but this, 
 and it is the sentence of Hooker, " there 
 will come a time when three words uttered 
 with charity and meekness, shall receive a 
 far more blessed reward than three thou- 
 sand volumes written with disdainful sharp- 
 ness of wit." Learn therefore, in the 
 words of a true gentleman and a pious 
 Christian # , to contemplate the different 
 forms of worship which prevail in different 
 parts of Christendom, not with the acri- 
 monious contempt of a narrow-minded sec- 
 tary, but with the compassionate indul- 
 gence of a mild and humble Christian. 
 You will admit that Christianity is excel- 
 lent in all her forms, that all Christian 
 establishments receive the same primitive 
 creeds, and admit the same moral obliga- 
 
 * Mr. Eustace. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 67 
 
 tions ; you will remember that while the 
 spirit of Christianity is, like its divine 
 Author, immutable, its external form may 
 change with the age and the climate, and 
 as public opinion and authority shall direct, 
 may assume or resign the pomp and the 
 circumstance of worship ; that whether the 
 Gospel be read in the language and ac- 
 cording to the simple forms of the Church 
 of England, under the Gothic vaults of 
 York or of Canterbury, or whether it be 
 chanted in Greek and Latin, with all the 
 splendor of the Roman Ritual, under the 
 golden dome of the Vatican, it is always 
 and every where, the same voice of truth 
 and the same tidings of salvation." 
 
 The magnificent stone pew of the noble 
 family of Radnor, inclosed within an iron 
 grate, emblazoned with the coat of arms, 
 and placed on the south side of the altar 
 in the Cathedral of Salisbury, strikes the 
 eye on entering the choir. A question has 
 often arisen respecting this introduction of 
 worldly grandeur into churches # , and too 
 
 * This however is a practice of the highest an- 
 tiquity, certainly as old as the third century, During 
 
68 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 often it has been decided, as I conceive, 
 most improperly, in condemnation of the 
 practice. The conclusion indeed is right, 
 but then it is drawn from false principles, 
 and therefore the whole is but idle decla- 
 mation. Rank and grandeur are either 
 according or contrary to the will of God. 
 On the first supposition the objection is at 
 once removed ; on the latter it is extended 
 further than is intended by those who pro- 
 pose it, for it necessarily must be argued 
 with equal force against the institution in 
 every place and at every time. But it is 
 not sufficient to say, that on the supposi- 
 tion, which I presume must be allowed, 
 the objection is removed, for we can go fur- 
 ther and prove that this custom 'of antiquity 
 is both reasonable and holy. Reasonable, 
 for by these means worldly grandeur is 
 seen to yield homage to the Almighty. 
 When Canute the Great hung up his crown 
 
 the middle ages the most capricious symbols of rank 
 were admitted into churches. The treasurer of the 
 church of Auxerre had the privilege of assisting at 
 divine service with a hawk on his fist, and the lord of 
 Sassai enjoyed the distinction of perching his falcon 
 on the edge of the altar. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 69 
 
 in the Cathedral of Winchester, what did 
 he but testify his subjection and fidelity to 
 the Lord of all ? When a nobleman enters 
 the presence of his Sovereign, he appears 
 with his hereditary symbols of grandeur, 
 and in like manner, Kings and Potentates 
 should worship before the Ruler of the 
 World, and should bow their majesty and 
 their glory at the feet of his throne. But it 
 is also a holy practice, for it presents the 
 world with examples of piety, which can- 
 not fail of producing some effect, and it 
 tends to confirm and strengthen in faith 
 and holiness the great themselves. " Si le 
 plus grand Prince de son siecle," says an 
 historian of Louis IX. " a ete Saint, qui ne 
 peut aspirer a l'etre." Who more holy and 
 free from human pride than Robert, King 
 of France, son and successor of Hugues 
 Capet? and yet the historians record of 
 this Monarch, that he was regular in assist- 
 ing at Divine Service, " chantant toujours 
 avec le choeur, souvent meme portant 
 chappe la Couronne en tete et le sceptre a 
 la main." And that this custom tends to 
 confirm the great in faith and holiness, is 
 
70 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 evident from the very nature of the service, 
 which can never be reverently discharged 
 without spiritual improvement. This leads 
 me to observe in conclusion, that if it be 
 the duty of the great to appear in their 
 station at the public service of the church, 
 not secretly, and as if detected of baseness 
 and imposture before the eye of the Al- 
 mighty, but with a modest boldness and a 
 countenance expressive of their conviction, 
 that they are instruments in the hands of 
 God, and faithful to the duty prescribed 
 to them; it is also expected from them 
 both by God who wills, and by man who 
 is to receive benefit, that they should dis- 
 play upon this occasion the utmost solem- 
 nity and decorum. We have seen Louis 
 IX. on his death-bed, charging his chil- 
 dren to remember this particular duty. Nor 
 indeed are examples wanting. Froissart 
 relates that the Earl of Foix would never 
 permit any interruption while attending 
 daily service. Lord Clarendon informs us, 
 that when a gentleman came in suddenly, 
 and apprised Charles I. of the murder of 
 the Duke of Buckingham, the King, who 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 71 
 
 was in the act of prayers at the time, re- 
 mained silent until the service was at an 
 end. At this day, when a stranger enters 
 a church, he cannot have a more certain 
 indication of the rank of those who assist, 
 than the degree of attention, reverence, and 
 even studied and ceremonious solemnity, 
 which they evince during the service. This 
 is one of the many instances, when high- 
 breeding and religion go hand in hand. I 
 have been at many of the great Courts of 
 Europe, and I have generally attended 
 divine service in their respective places of 
 worship; and I declare with the utmost 
 sincerity, that if the same congregations 
 had been promiscuously assembled, without 
 any arrangement to distinguish rank, I 
 could have pointed out the Sovereign and 
 his nobles, from comparing their deport- 
 ment with that of the crowd, whose vulgar 
 levity and grossness, neither religion nor 
 a sense of personal dignity had corrected. 
 
 So much for the particular profession of 
 faith which you are required to adopt, and 
 for the duty and manner of attending the 
 public worship of the church. 
 
72 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Yet there is still some further observa- 
 tion necessary, before we pass from consi- 
 dering the general character of the religion 
 of our ancestors. 
 
 " And is there love in heaven ? And is there love 
 In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, 
 That may compassion of their evils move ? 
 There is : else much more wretched were the case 
 Of men than beasts. But O th' exceeding grace 
 Of highest God ! that loves his creatures so, 
 And all his works with mercy doth embrace, 
 That blessed Angels he sends to and fro, 
 To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe. 
 
 How oft do they their silver bowers leave 
 To come to succour us, that succour want ? 
 How oft do they with golden pinions cleave 
 The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant 
 Against foul fiends, to aid us militant ? 
 They for us fight, they watch and duly ward, 
 And their bright squadrons round about us plant, 
 And all for love and nothing for reward, 
 O why should heavenly God to men have such re- 
 gard 
 
 How consoling and how scriptural was 
 the faith described in these beautiful lines 
 of Spenser, which so many have now aban- 
 
 * Fairy Queen, Book II. Cant. viii. 
 
THE BfcdAD STONE OF HOtfOtlfc* 73 
 
 doned through superstition* and infide- 
 lity. I say how scriptural ; for is it not 
 conformable to what we read of St. Michael 
 and the rebel Angels, of an Angel visiting 
 the Apostle in prison— of another troubling 
 the pool of Siloam — of another quenching 
 the flames which were to have devoured 
 three Martyrs — of another opposing the 
 Lion who was to destroy the Prophet — of 
 another consoling Agar— of another con- 
 ducting the servant of Abraham— of ano- 
 ther protecting Jacob on his journey — of 
 another delivering Lot from Sodom, " that 
 the angels are spirits destined to serve those 
 who are the heirs of salvation, — that they 
 tarry round about them that fear God, and 
 bear them in their hands f;" and, to our 
 prayer in the collect of the church for the 
 festival of St. Michael and all Angels, " that 
 as thy holy angels alway do thee service in 
 heaven, so by thy appointment they may 
 succour and defend us on earth?" 
 
 * " There is a superstition," says Lord Bacon, 
 " in avoiding superstition, when men think to do best 
 if they go farthest from the superstition formerly re- 
 ceived." 
 
 t Heb. i. 14. Ps. xxxiv. 7. xci. 11, 12. 
 
 E 
 
74 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 What lesson of Christianity more impor- 
 tant than that which teaches us to have a 
 concern for the spiritual welfare of our 
 brethren? And, also, what lesson more 
 faithfully practised in the chivalrous age ? 
 Robert, King of France, to save men from 
 the crime of perjury, contrived to remove 
 the reliques from the shrine which was sup- 
 posed to contain them, and upon which 
 the oaths were to be administered, " C'etoit 
 mal raisonner sans doute," says the his- 
 torian Velly, " puisque c'est Tintention qui 
 fait le crime : mais le motif nous peint un 
 prince aussi tendre pour ses sujets que zele 
 pour la gloire de Dieu." From the same 
 desire of saving the souls of men, he gave 
 that memorable instance of clemency which 
 the historian deems to surpass all that is 
 recorded of Augustus and Trajan. He was 
 informed, at Compeigne, th^t twelve ruf- 
 fians were resolved to assassinate him. 
 They had been arrested, and their trial was 
 commenced ; but in the mean time, the 
 pious King, upon their confession and re- 
 pentance, gave secret orders that they 
 should receive the Sacrament. He then 
 
 5 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 75 
 
 admitted them to the honour of dining at 
 his table, when he pronounced a solemn 
 pardon, and then sent them back to inform 
 the Judges, " qu'il ne pouvoit se resondre 
 a se venger de ceux que son maitre avoit 
 regus a sa table." Let it be remembered 
 also, that he was an excellent King, always 
 alive to the interests of his people, and 
 justly celebrated for his moderation and 
 wisdom. Let us take another instance of 
 this christian tenderness for the souls of 
 men. While Sir John Froissart and Sir 
 Espaenge de Lion are riding together, 
 the latter relates, among other histories, 
 the account of a battle, in which two brave 
 squires were slain, " and to thentent," 
 he says, " that this batayle shoulde be had 
 in remembrance, wher as the two squyers 
 fought ther was set a crosse of stone ; be- 
 holde yonder is the crosse ; and with those 
 words," says Sir John Froissart, <e we came 
 to the crosse, and there we sayd for their 
 souls a Pater-noster and an Ave-maria." 
 I meddle not with points of theology ; but, 
 a concern for the future condition of men's 
 souls, is a duty belonging to all christians, 
 e 2 
 
76 THE BROAD STONE OP HOJTOtJIt 
 
 to all who profess a belief in their immor- 
 tality, to all who do not usurp the name of 
 man. Not to be insensible to the nice dis- 
 tinctions of divines, not to be misled by 
 such superstition, if it must bear that name, 
 were but a little good a small compensa- 
 tion for the abandonment of that love 
 which is the soul of religion and humanity. 
 The effects of our scholastic refinements 
 are at all events now clear. There is little 
 danger of such a scene being repeated as 
 that which is here described by Sir John 
 Froissart. The soldiers of France will now 
 pass by the cross with the most philoso- 
 phical indifference as to the salvation of 
 the man whose death it is intended to com- 
 memorate ; there will be no superstitious 
 prayer for the soul of the slain, not a 
 thought respecting its everlasting welfare, 
 but whether religion gains by this, let them 
 look well who will have to answer hereafter | 
 for the lessons which they have taught the 
 world. Let us observe also the office which 
 the laity assumed in cases of emergency, 
 of discharging the rites of religion. Every 
 one remembers the affecting tale in the 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 77 
 
 Jerusalem Delivered, where the generous 
 Tancred gives baptism to the dying Clo- 
 rinda, who, 
 
 " though her life to Christ rebellious were, 
 
 Yet died she his childe and handmaid deare." 
 
 Nor are the facts of history less extraor- 
 dinary to modern ears. When the assassins 
 rushed into the dungeon where Joinville 
 was confined with the constables of France 
 and Cyprus, the Counts of Bretagne, Flan- 
 ders and Soissons, these brave gentlemen 
 proceeded instantly to confess each to the 
 other whatever sins he recollected. " Je 
 me agenouillai," says Joinville, " aux pieds 
 de Tun d'eux, lui tendant de cou ; et disant 
 ces mots, en faisant le signe de la croix: 
 ainsi mourut Sainte Agnes. Tout encontre 
 de moi is'agenouilla le connetable de Chypre 
 et se confessa a moi. Je lui donnai telle 
 absolution comme Dieu m'en donnoit le 
 pouvoir. Mais de chose qu'il m'eut dite, 
 quand je fus leve, oncques me m'en re- 
 cordai de mot." 
 
 Lastly, let me call your attention to the 
 €$aet and scrupulous delicacy of their alle- 
 e3 
 
78 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 giance to God, for this the ever memorable 
 -example of Louis IX. will be sufficient # . 
 After the captivity of the King, when the 
 treaty was concluded by which he was to 
 be delivered, the Sarassins prescribed an 
 oath, which the King was to use in swear- 
 ing to fulfil the conditions. The form was 
 as follows : f qu'au cas qu'il ne tint pas les 
 choses promises, il fut repute parjure, 
 comme le chretien qui a renie Dieu, son 
 bapteme et sa loi, et qui en depit de Dieu, 
 crache sur la croix et l'escache a ses pieds." 
 When the King, says Joinville, heard this 
 oath, " il dit qui ja ne le feroit-il." In 
 vain did his friends and enemies unite 
 against this resolution. He was reminded 
 that it would cause not only his own death, 
 but also that of all his friends. % Je vous 
 aime," said he to the Lords and Prelates 
 who remonstrated with him, " Je vous aime 
 comme mes freres ; je m'aime aussi ; mais 
 a Dieu ne plaise, quoi qu'il en puisse 
 .arriver, que de telles paroles sor- 
 
 * The historical student will recollect a still more 
 striking instance recorded of Louis VIII. upon the 
 authority of Will, de Puislaurent, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 79 
 TENT JAMAIS DE LA BOUCHE D ? UN Roi 
 
 de France." " Pour vous," he added, in 
 addressing the Sarassin Minister, ff allez 
 dire a vos maitres qu'ils en peuvent faire 
 a leurs volontes ; que j'aime trop mieux 
 mourir bon chretien, que de vivre aux 
 courroux de Dieu de sa mere et ses saints." 
 The Emirs, distracted with rage and dis- 
 appointment, rushed into his tent with 
 their naked swords, crying out, ff You are 
 our prisoner, and yet you treat us as if we 
 were in irons ; there is no medium, either 
 death or the bath as we have drawn it." 
 ff Dieu vous a rendus maitres de mon 
 corps," replied the invincible Louis, " mais 
 mon ame est entre ses mains ; vous ne pou- 
 vez rien sur elle." The King prevailed, 
 and the infidels relinquished their resolu- 
 tion of requiring the oath on those terms. 
 Let us, to conclude the subject, take a 
 summary view of the character of two of 
 our early kings, Edward the Confessor and 
 Henry VI. Their memories are still dear, 
 nay their very magnificence yet exists 
 within the venerable walls of Westminster, 
 Eton, and King's College ; and the reader 
 e 4 
 
80 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 of these pages may be even a partaker of 
 their bounty. The Confessor was pious, 
 merciful and good : the father of the poor 
 and the protector of the weak, more willing 
 to give than to receive ; and better pleased 
 to pardon than to punish. " King Henry 
 says Grafton, f which rayned at this time, 
 was a man of a meek spirit and of a simple 
 witte, prefering peace before war, rest 
 before businesse, honestie before profite, 
 and quietness before labour; and to the 
 intente that men might perceive that there 
 could be none more chaste, more meek, 
 more holye, nor a better creature ; in him 
 raigned shamefacedness, modestie, integ- 
 ritie and pacience to be marveylled at, tak- 
 ing and suffering all losses, chaunces, dis- 
 pleasures, and such worldly torments in 
 good parte, and wy th a pacient manner, as 
 though they had chaunced by his own 
 faulte or negligent oversight. — He gaped 
 not for honour, nor thirsted for riches, but 
 studied onlye for the health of his soule, 
 the saving wherof he esteemed to be the 
 greatest wisdome, and the losse therof the 
 extremest folie that could be." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 81 
 
 Will it offend the manly age and dignity 
 of our young men of family if I present 
 them with the advice of the Dame Terrail 
 to her son, the Chevalier Bayard # ? It 
 may surprise, but it is impossible that it 
 will not edify them ; base must be the 
 mind that will despise such admonition. 
 The young page was going to enter the 
 service of the Duke of Savoy, and before 
 his departure his mother gave him her 
 blessing and her charge. 44 I recommend 
 to your attention three things, and if you 
 fulfil them be assured that you will live 
 with honour in this world, and that God 
 will bless you. The first is, that you fear 
 God, serve him and love him, without 
 ever offending him, if that be possible. 
 It is he who has created us, in whom we 
 live, and by whom we are preserved. It 
 is by him that we shall be saved. Without 
 him and without his grace we should never 
 
 * I have seen a delightful little book, by M. de 
 Berville, published in Paris, containing the life of 
 this incomparable man, the chevalier " sans peur et 
 sans reproche." It should be read by every young 
 man. 
 
 E 5 
 
82 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 be able to perform the smallest good action. 
 Be particular to pray to him every day, 
 both morning and evening, and he will 
 assist you. The second is, that you be 
 gentle and courteous towards the nobility, 
 that you evince neither * hauteur 9 nor pride 
 towards any person, that you be ready al- 
 ways to oblige every person ; that you 
 avoid deceit, falsehood, and envy, these 
 are vices unworthy of a Christian ; that you 
 be sober, faithful to your word, and above 
 all, charitable to the poor, and God will re- 
 turn to you again whatever you shall give 
 for the love of him. Particularly console 
 the widows and orphans as much as will 
 be in your power. Finally avoid flatterers, 
 and take care that you never become one 
 of them. It is a character equally odious 
 and pernicious. The third thing which I 
 recommend to you is again, charity. That 
 will never bring you to poverty, and be- 
 lieve me whatever alms you giveybr the love 
 of God will be profitable to both body and 
 soul. Behold, this is all that I have to 
 say to you. Neither your father nor I have 
 a long time to live. God grant that before 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 83 
 
 we die we may hear news of you which 
 may bring honour upon ourselves and 
 upon you. I commend you to the Divine 
 Goodness # ." 
 
 * Compare this simple lesson with the celebrated 
 advice of Madame de Lambert to her son, and how 
 cold and formal will appear the lecture of the accom- 
 plished Marchioness, how little worthy of a Christian 
 mother, how strained and unnatural, how incapable 
 of either convincing the understanding or of affecting 
 the heart ! Well as Madame de Stael observed, in al- 
 lusion to the effect of such lessons, " La religion reste 
 dans les idees, comme le roi restoit, dans la constitu- 
 tion que l'assemblee constituante avoit decretee. 
 C'etoit une republique, plus un ron" Let us hope 
 that the ladies of England may continue to resemble 
 their ancestors in discharging this important depart- 
 ment of their duty, and that the reproof of the Spartan 
 may be never applicable to them, " Scire, quae recta 
 essent, sed facere nolle. " If it were only to please 
 the imagination, the character of the devout lady, is 
 essential to complete the personages of the drama of 
 the world. If the knights in the field were brave and 
 faithful, the ladies in the castle gave alms to the poor, 
 and prayed to God in their chapel To go back still 
 further, it was Placidia, daughter of Theodosius the 
 Great, whose influence upon Adolphus secured his 
 favour to the Romans. It was Prisca and Valeria, 
 empress and daughter of Diocletian, who protected 
 the Christians of that aera. It was Clotilda who con- 
 verted Clovis, the king of France, to the Christian 
 E 6 
 
84 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Attend now to the modest reply of 
 Bayard, " Madam, I thank you with all 
 
 faith ; it was the princess of Olga who introduced 
 Christianity into Russia. The history of the middle 
 ages, romances, family portraits, records of public 
 foundations, every thing that is venerable in antiquity, 
 are associated with the piety of our female ancestors. 
 Their devotion and charity furnish frequently the 
 only means of tracing our genealogy. The names of 
 persons who are not distinguished for these qualities 
 can hardly be expected to endure like those of Eliza- 
 beth de Clare, Mary Countess of Pembroke, Margaret 
 Countess of Richmond, and many others which are 
 immortalized in the records of our universities. Who 
 can read Froissart and not feel an interest in the cha- 
 racter of those princesses and ladies of quality who 
 retired to spend their remaining years in devotion and 
 works of charity ? Such as Madame Jehanne, who, he 
 relates, " s'en vint demourer a Fontenelles sur Pescaut 
 et usa sa vie la, comme bonne et devote en ladite 
 abbaye : et y fit moult de biens," or Isabella sister of 
 Louis IX., abbess of Lonchamp, whose life was writ- 
 ten by a sister of the convent, and the simple account 
 of whose death, at midnight, and the feelings which 
 it excited in the mind of the nun who records it, may 
 be compared with the most sublime passage of anti- 
 quity. The annals of the house of Austria will supply 
 repeated examples of this kind. That of Eleonora, 
 who commanded that there should be no other in- 
 scription upon her tomb than this, 
 
 Eleonora? pauvre pecheresse. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 80 
 
 my heart for these good lessons which you 
 have given to me, and I hope by the grace 
 of Him to whom you commend me, dearly 
 to preserve them in memory, and to give 
 you satisfaction by my faithful practiQe." 
 The life of this generous and noble hero is 
 a practical explanation of these instruc- 
 tions. Hereafter we shall observe instan- 
 
 That even of the great Maria Theresa, who was in 
 the habit of attending service daily in the church of 
 the Capuchins, and of visiting the vault which con- 
 tains the coffins of her family. At the present day the 
 order of the star cross subsists, for married ladies of 
 noble rank, founded by Eleonora, and always patro- 
 nized by the reigning empress. The device is a small 
 cross, with the motto, " Sal us et gloria," there is also 
 a society in Vienna, to which none but ladies of the 
 highest nobility belong, for the purpose of superin- 
 tending and promoting the public charities. In our 
 united kingdom there is not one useful religious or 
 charitable institution which does not derive support 
 from the influence and munificence, and even personal 
 exertion of the female nobility. Let us hope then 
 that the successors of Mr. Gibbon may repeat his re- 
 mark that " Christianity must acknowledge important 
 obligations to female devotion." The viscount De 
 Segur in his celebrated composition, " Les femmes," 
 has treated this subject, in allusion to the rise of 
 Christianity, with a charm of style and a sweetness of 
 sentiment which are quite irresistible. 
 
86 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ces of his virtue, let us for the present 
 confine our enquiry to the religious cha- 
 racter of the order to which he belonged. 
 S te Palaye informs us, upon the authority 
 of the doctrinal MSS. of S. Germain, that 
 the knights of old never allowed them- 
 selves to be absent from the morning ser- 
 vice of the Church as soon as they were 
 risen # ; and we meet with continued in- 
 stances of this practice both among indi- 
 viduals, and in the public conduct of the 
 camp, in Froissart, Joinville's History of 
 St. Louis, the Ancient Chronicles, the 
 Lives of Bayard, Du Guesclin, Francis L 
 and even Henry IV. Every one knows the 
 famous reply of this latter monarch when 
 he and his army fell upon their knees be- 
 fore the battle of Coutres, " Ou ne peut trop 
 s'humilier devant Dieu, ni trop braver les 
 hommes." What a testimony to the piety 
 of Charlemagne is advanced by Eginhart. 
 ** Religionem christianam qua ab infantia 
 fuerat imbutus sanctissime et cum summa 
 
 * Thus the motto of the Marquesses of Bucking- 
 ham is " Templa quam dilecta !" and the family of 
 Ramsay has " Ora et labora." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 87 
 
 pietate ac veneratione coluit. — Ecclesiam 
 mane et vesperi, nocturnis item horis et 
 sacrificii tempore, quando eum valetudo 
 permiserat, impigre frequentabat." 
 
 The details in Froissart are so curious 
 in themselves that it may be worth while 
 to select a few. Thus, upon the morning 
 of the day on which the French and English 
 armies were to fight at Vironfosse " quand 
 vint le vendredy au matin, les deux osts s' 
 appareillerent et ouyrent la messe chacun 
 seigneur, entre ses gens et en son logis et 
 se communierent et confesserent plusieurs." 
 And on the morning of the battle of Caen, 
 he relate^ ** En ce jour se leverent les 
 Anglois moult matin ; et a* appareillerent 
 pour aller devant Caen. Puis ouit le Roy 
 messe devant soleil levant : et apres monta 
 k cheval," &c. Then at Crecy, on the 
 Friday evening before the battle, the king 
 gave a supper to his earls and barons, " et 
 fit bonne chere : et quand il leur eut donne 
 conge d' aller reposer, et il fut demoure 
 delez les chevaliers de sa chambre, il entra 
 en son oratoire : et fut la a geneux et en 
 oraisons, devant son autel en prient Dieu 
 
88 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 qu'il le laissast lendemain (s'ils se combat- 
 toint) issir de la besongne a honneur* 
 Environ minuit s'en alia concher. Le 
 lendemain se leva assez matin et ouit 
 messe, et le prince de Galles son fils : et 
 se communierent ; et la plus grande partie 
 de ses gens se confesserent et meirent en 
 bon estat." The same historian, in his 
 celebrated description of the Earl of Foix, 
 relates that f* he sayd many orisons every 
 daye : a nocturne of the psalter, matyns 
 of our Lady, and the Holy Ghost, and of 
 the crosse, and dirige every day." If it be 
 objected to this example, that the same 
 historian has recorded the cruel deeds of 
 this earl, such as the punishment of his 
 son in prison, and the execution of so 
 many noble youths upon mere suspicion, 
 and that therefore his religion and his 
 orisons are nothing, I will rather advise 
 my reader to take the good and to leave 
 the evil, to imitate the simplicity and the 
 charity of Froissart, when he says, " thus 
 the erle was buryed in the freers before the 
 hyghe aulter : so there is no more meneion 
 made of hym ; God have mercy upon his 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 89 
 
 soule." Or to exclaim with king Henry, 
 after witnessing the death of Cardinal 
 Beaufort, " O God, forgive him ! Forbear 
 to judge, for we are sinners all." 
 
 In every castle the morning service was 
 read daily. Thus we are told of Sir Gala- 
 had, Sir Launcelot's son : " And at the 
 laste hit happened hym to depart from a 
 place or a castle, the whiche was named 
 Abblasoure, and he hadde herd no masse, 
 the whiche he was wonte ever to here or 
 ever he departed oute of ony castle or 
 place, and kepte that for a customme." 
 Upon this subject I will exclaim with Sir 
 Thomas Maleore, ff Lo ye al englissh men, 
 —Loo thus was the olde custome and 
 usage of this londe." Froissart relates 
 how the Earl of Pembroke when besieged 
 in the house of the Templars, near Poictiers, 
 dispatched a squire upon his best horse to 
 Sir John Chandos. The squire " departed 
 at the hour of mydnight, and al the night 
 he rode out of his way, and when it was 
 mornyng and fayre day, than he knew his 
 way, and so rode towards Pqiters, and by 
 that tyme his horse was wary : howbeit ho 
 
90 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 came thyder by nyne of the clocke, and 
 ther alyghted before Sir Johan Chandos 
 lodgyng, and entred and founde him at 
 masse, and so came and kneeled down 
 before him, and dyde his message as he 
 was commanded." This was the famous 
 Sir John Chandos, whom du Guesclin 
 called " the moost renowned knight of 
 the worlde and Froissart, " a right hardy 
 and courageous knight/' who was slain in 
 battle and lamented by his friends and 
 his foes. Sir John Froissart relates, that 
 travelled for some days with Sir Esprenge 
 de Lion, " a valyant and an experte man 
 of armes, about the age of L yeres : — and 
 this knyght every day after he had sayd his 
 prayers, moost parte all the day after he 
 toke his pastyme with me, in demaunding 
 of tidynges." These instances will serve 
 to shew what was the universal practice of 
 the age. There were indeed, then, as 
 there are now, men who objected to it as 
 useless and superstitious. Thus they ac- 
 cused Saint Louis of devoting too much 
 time to his prayers. " Les hommes sont 
 etranges/' he replied with sweetness, " on 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 91 
 
 me fait un crime de mon assiduite a la 
 priere : ou he disoit mot si j'employs les 
 heures que je lui donne a jouer aux jeux de 
 hasard, a courir la bete fauve ou a chasser 
 aux oiseaux." 
 
 But let us return to the Chevalier Bayard. 
 " He loved and feared God," says the Pre- 
 sident d'Expilly, in the conclusion of his 
 vloge. " He had always recourse to him 
 in difficulty, praying regularly, both morn- 
 ing and evening, for which purpose he 
 would be always alone." I pity the under- 
 standing and the heart of that man who 
 disdains to believe with Newton, and to 
 practise with Bayard # . 
 
 * The mottos of several of the noble families pro- 
 claim their early piety. Thus the house of Percy 
 bears for its motto — Esperance en Dieu. 
 
 Of Berkeley — Dieu avec nous. 
 
 Of Windsor — Je me fis en Dieu. 
 
 Of Edgcumb — Au plaisir fort de Dieu. 
 
 Of Digby— Deo non fortuna. 
 
 Of Pierrepont — Pie repone te. 
 
 Of Lascelles — In solo Deo salus. 
 
 OfPetre — Sans Dieurien. 
 
 Of Arundel — Deo Date. 
 
 Of Dormer — Cio che Dio vuole io voglio. 
 
 Of Roper— Spes mea in Deo. 
 
92 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Nor let it be supposed that their piety 
 consisted in a superstitious observance of 
 external ceremonies. On the contrary, it 
 was founded upon the spiritual and grand 
 doctrine of Christianity — the cross of 
 Christ. Would to God that we Protestants 
 might receive and hold with more honour 
 and fidelity this glorious truth, which we 
 should at least carry in our hearts, albeit 
 our condition must be still dubious if we 
 continue ashamed to bear its image. The 
 gentlemen of old were not deeply learned 
 in the tomes of theological controversy, 
 still less in the systems of moral philo- 
 sophy ; they had not learned to speculate 
 upon the designs of Providence, they were 
 not infected with a secret leaven of infi- 
 delity, they knew little of the ethics of 
 Cicero, of the beauty of virtue, of its suit- 
 
 Of Lyon Bowes-i-In te Domini speravi. 
 
 Of Boyle— Dominus providebit, 
 
 Of Arbuthnot — Laus I)eQ. 
 
 Qf Fraser— In God is aJJ. 
 
 Of Caulfield— Deo duce, ferro comitante. 
 
 Of King— Spes tutissima caelis. 
 
 Of Wingpeld— Fidel ite est de Dieu, 
 
 Of Montmorency — Dieu ayde. 
 
Tttfi BROAD STONE OF HONOUtt. 
 
 ableness 16 our nature, they had not 
 learned to limit and to annihilate with 
 their limitations, the doctrine of God their 
 Saviour ; but they bore his cross upon 
 their breasts, and they trusted to it in 
 death # . Who does not feel the beauty of 
 that description in the Fairy Queen ? 
 
 " A gentle knight was pricking on the plain 
 Yelad in mighty arms and silver shield, 
 And on his breast a bloody cross he bore, 
 The dear remembrance of his dying Lord, 
 For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore, 
 And dead (as living) ever him adored : 
 Upon his shield the like was also scored, 
 For soveraine hope which in his help he had." 
 
 Let it not be said that their faith was su- 
 perstition : it was not the creed of the 
 
 * The mottos which distinguish several of our noble 
 families, proclaim the simplicity of their faith. 
 
 Thus of Villiers, Earls of Jersey — Fidei coticula 
 crux. 
 
 Of Stuart, Earls of Moray — Salus per christum re- 
 demptorem. 
 
 Of Beresford— Nil nisi cruce. 
 
 Of Netterville— Cruce dum spiro fido. 
 
 Of Bingham, Barons of Clanmorris — Spes mea 
 Christus. 
 
94 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 human philosopher, but it was the doc* 
 trine of Christ and his Apostles. What 
 were the words of St. Paul ? " We preach/' 
 not the doctrine of this or that party, not 
 the distinctions of scholastic subtilty, but 
 " Christ crucified." And again, in what 
 did he glory ? " God forbid that I should 
 glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." What was the lesson of our Sa- 
 viour himself? " That as Moses lifted up 
 the serpent in the wilderness, even so 
 should the Son of Man be lifted up, that 
 whosoever believeth on him should not 
 perish, but have everlasting life." This 
 doctrine was to them neither " a stumbling 
 block nor foolishness." It was the wisdom 
 of God, and the power of God, and if they 
 venerated with holy reverence the precious 
 emblem of their salvation, if they did love 
 and honour the very image of the cross, 
 and if they did sign themselves with its 
 mark, as a testimony of their belief, as an 
 encouragement to confidence, as a tribute 
 to him whom it represented, Oh, it will ill 
 become those to censure them who have 
 laid aside both the image and the substance, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 95 
 
 both the sign and the truth which it was to 
 designate # . 
 
 Much ridicule has been expended upon 
 what is termed the fanatical devotion of the 
 middle ages : but it is indeed a subject 
 which displays the inconsistency of human 
 conduct ? I confess it appears to me far 
 otherwise. The Egyptians, after discours- 
 ing on the immortality of the soul, " put 
 themselves to death for joy. " Was it then 
 wonderful that the hope of a happy resur- 
 rection should inspire a reverence for the 
 very spot where that hope was confirmed 
 to mankind? We have our honourable 
 East India Company, and the Dutch had 
 their honourable companies to monopolize 
 the riches and luxury of the East, and is 
 it for the lovers of chivalry, for the hoary 
 Palmer and the Red-cross knight who de- 
 parted from the land that they loved at the 
 call of piety and honour, is it for them to 
 
 * I once saw an inscription under a crucifix, which 
 must have disappointed the bigot who was prepared to 
 ridicule— 
 
 " Effigiem Christi qui transis pronas adora 
 " Sed non effigiem sed quern dcsignat adora." 
 
96 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 blush and to be troubled at the scorn of a 
 world which is destitute of both ? A more 
 perfect knowledge of the doctrines of Chris- 
 tianity has indeed convinced men that it 
 is not by a journey to Jerusalem that they 
 can evince their trust in the cross and their 
 love for the Saviour of the world ; but 
 surely there are tnen acquainted with this 
 truth, who might be addressed by a Cru- 
 sader in the words of Boileau to Racine. 
 u Je conviens que j'ai tort; mais j'aime 
 mieux l'avoir que d'avoir si orgueilleuse- 
 ment raison que vous Tavez." 
 
 Michaud, in his History of the Crusades, 
 describing the deplorable condition of the 
 Christian army, in passing the deserts of 
 Sauria, observes, u les steriles vallees de 
 la Pisidie retentirent pendant plusieurs 
 jours de leurs prieres, de leurs plaintes, et 
 peut etre aussi de leurs blasphemes # ." Ridi- 
 culous as this last sentence may appear, it 
 is not in fact more extravagant than the un- 
 generous and illiberal insinuations which 
 are continually occurring in the pages of 
 
 * Tom. I. lib. ii. p. 224, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 97 
 
 Gibbon, Hume, and even Robertson, where- 
 ever the character of Christians falls under 
 their consideration, and copied from them 
 in the thousand popular writings of the 
 day, which are repeating ancient misrepre- 
 sentation and calumny. The expression of 
 the English historian, that the Crusades 
 furnish the most lasting monument of hu- 
 man folly, is but in character, coming from 
 the pen of a writer to whom Christianity 
 itself was a monument of human folly ; but 
 it is impossible not to be surprised at the 
 language of other writers upon the subject, 
 who cannot plead consistency in excuse. 
 The great French historian Velly, thus re- 
 marks ; " On se croisa done a l'envie ; les 
 uns par libertinage, les autres par un faux 
 zele de religion, ceux-ci pour se faire un 
 nom, ceux-la pour changer de place, quel- 
 ques-uns pour se soustraire aux importu- 
 nites de leurs creanciers, quelques-autres 
 pour aller chercher dans un pays Stranger 
 une fortune plus favorable que celle dont 
 ils jouissoient dans leur patrie." Tom ii. 
 p. 441. If a crusade were undertaken in 
 the present age, what worse motives could 
 
 F 
 
98 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 be ascribed to the men that would engage 
 in it than false zeal, licentiousness, and 
 ambition ? And surely in the eleventh cen- 
 tury there were other motives that might 
 have actuated the heroes of Europe. Does 
 our philosophy teach us only to regard the 
 vices of these men, and to take no account 
 of their virtues ; to overlook those, who, 
 like the intrepid Brangon, thought them- 
 selves too happy u de mourir pour Jesus 
 Christ # ;" or those who went repeating the 
 verse of the Psalmist, " adorabimus in 
 loco +," and who devoted themselves to 
 death, thinking only upon the mercy of 
 God and the captivity of Jerusalem ? The 
 Crusades are a monument of human folly, 
 and the whole religion of our ancestors was 
 mistaken. Be it so : — but if mankind had 
 always been as wise and discerning as our 
 modern philosophists, they would not have 
 left to us the paintings of Raphael, or the 
 poetry of Tasso ; we should possess moral 
 and metaphysical essays, not the Loss of 
 Paradise and the Minstrel's Lay ; our Creed 
 
 * JoinvilJe, p. 55. 
 
 t Psalm cxxxii. 7. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 99 
 
 would be the maxims of selfishness, not the 
 religion of chivalry and honour. 
 
 It is much to be lamented that the ac- 
 quaintance of the English reader with the 
 characters and events of the middle ages, 
 should, for the most part, be derived from 
 the writings of men, who were either in- 
 fidels, or who wrote, on every subject con- 
 nected with religion, with the feelings and 
 opinions of Scotch Presbyterian preachers 
 of the last century, not the most enlight- 
 ened estimators of Christianity or human 
 nature. Nor is it foreign from the original 
 design of the writer of these pages, if he 
 thus endeavours to dissuade his reader from 
 too hastily adopting a general opinion 
 which in fact throws contempt upon reli- 
 gion, and which dishonours human nature ; 
 an opinion which is unfair, illiberal, and 
 ungenerous, for it is adopted, partly with- 
 out having made a due estimate upon the 
 testimony of prejudiced writers, and partly 
 upon detected calumny ; for it is founded 
 upon the opinion of our own peculiar age, 
 country, and associates ; for it is wantonly 
 insulting to the memory of men, from whom 
 f2 
 
100 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 we have inherited every thing that gives 
 Europe a pre-eminence over the rest of the 
 earth, manners, learning, and Christianity. 
 
 When Louis IX. was on his death-bed he 
 commanded his children to be summoned, 
 and with his own hand he wrote out the 
 following instructions, which he committed 
 to the prince who was to succeed him. 
 
 *1 Beau fils, la premiere chose que je 
 t'enseigne et commande a garder, si est, 
 que de tout ton cueur et sur toute rien, tu 
 aymes Dieu, car sans ce nul homme ne 
 peult estre sauve. Et te garde bien de 
 faire chose qui lui desplaise : c'est a savoir 
 peche. Car tu deverois plutort desirer a 
 souffrir toutes manieres de tourmens que de 
 pecher mortellement." — " If Cod shall visit 
 you with adversity, receive it humbly, and 
 be grateful, and consider that you have 
 well deserved it, and that the whole will 
 tend to your good. If he shall give you 
 prosperity, be thankful with humility, and 
 take care that you be not corrupted by 
 pride, for we should not employ the gifts 
 of God in service against him. Let your 
 confessor be a wise and good man, who 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 101 
 
 can instruct you in religion, and take care 
 that your confessors, your relations, and 
 acquaintances, may be able boldly to re- 
 prove your fault, whatever it may be. At- 
 tend the service of God and of our holy 
 mother church devoutly, and with the ser- 
 vice of heart and lips, &c. Have a gentle 
 and pitiful heart for the poor ; comfort and 
 assist them as much as you can. Maintain 
 the good customs of your kingdom, and 
 correct the bad. Be on your guard against 
 covetousness, and against great taxing and 
 subsidies, unless the defence of your king- 
 dom shall require them. If your heart be 
 sad or in trouble, lay it open to your con- 
 fessor, or to some good person, who is dis- 
 creet, and so you will be enabled to endure 
 your misery. Be sure that you employ in 
 your company good and loyal men, who 
 are not covetous, whether ecclesiastics or 
 others. Fly from evil company, and oblige 
 yourself to hear the words of God, and 
 retain them in your heart. Continually 
 desire prayer, instruction and pardon. Love 
 your honour. Take heed that no man may 
 be so hardy as to utter in your presence 
 f3 
 
102 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 any word which might tend to excite other^ 
 to sin, that none should slander the absent, 
 or abuse those who are present. Never 
 permit any thing to be uttered disrespect- 
 ful towards God, the holy virgin, or the 
 saints. Thank God often for his grace, 
 and for your prosperity. Exercise justice 
 to all, to the poor as well as to the rich. 
 Let your servants be loyal, liberal, and de- 
 cisive in speech, that they may be feared 
 and loved as their Master. If any dispute 
 shall arise, be exact in searching for the 
 truth, whether it be for or against you. 
 Love and honour churchmen and all eccle- 
 siastics, and take care that no person shall 
 deprive them of their revenues, gifts, and 
 alms, which your ancestors have given to 
 them. I have been told that King Philip, 
 my grandfather, replied to a minister who 
 said to him that the churchmen caused 
 him to lose many rights and liberties, and 
 that it was a matter of wonder how he per- 
 mitted it, that he believed it to be so, but 
 that God had bestowed upon him so much 
 grace and goodness, that he had rather lose 
 his wealth than have any dispute or contest 
 2 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 103 
 
 with ministers of the holy church. Honour 
 and reverence your father and mother, arid 
 take care not to grieve them by disobedi- 
 ence to their commands. Bestow the be- 
 nefices which belong to you upon good 
 persons, and of pure manners. Take heed 
 how you go to war with a Christian man 
 without deep reflection, and unless the case 
 is of necessity ; and on these occasions take 
 care that neither the clergy nor those who 
 have not injured you may suffer. Take 
 care also that no sin shall prevail in your 
 kingdom, nor any blasphemy or heresy. 
 And, finally, be mindful of me and of my 
 poor soul, &c. And now I bestow all the 
 blessings that a father can give his child, 
 praying to the whole Trinity of Paradise, 
 the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, 
 that he may keep and defend you from all 
 evil, and especially from dying in mortal 
 sin. So that after this life ended, we may 
 meet again before God, to praise him, and 
 return thanks for ever in his kingdom of 
 Paradise. Amen." 
 
 He then received the sacrament, repeat- 
 ing the Psalms with a clear memory and 
 f4 
 
104 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 with profound devotion; he then caused 
 himself to be placed upon a bed covered 
 with ashes, and looking up to heaven with 
 his hands placed uponhis breast, he yielded 
 up his spirit to his Creator. " Piteuse 
 chouse est/' cries Joinville, " et digne de 
 pleurer, le trespassement de ce saint Prince, 
 qui si saintement a vesqu, et bien garde 
 son Royaume et qui tant de beaux faitz 
 envers Dieu^t faitz." Velly has pronounced 
 the eloge of Saint Louis in few words. — 
 *£ II eut tout ensemble les sentimens d'un 
 vrai gentilhomme, et la piete du plus hum- 
 ble des Chretiens." The testimony of an 
 infidel to the virtues of this great Prince is 
 still more striking. " Louis IX. paraissait 
 un prince destine a reformer 1'Europe, si 
 elle avoit pu Petre, a rendre la France tri- 
 omphante et policee, et a etre en tout le 
 modele des hommes. Sa piete qui etait celle 
 d'un Anachorite, ne lui ota aucune vertu de 
 roi. Une sage economie ne deroba rien a 
 sa liberalite. II sut accorder une politique 
 profonde avec une justice exacte, et peut- 
 etre est-il le seul souverain qui merite cette 
 louange. Prudent et ferme dans le conseil, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 105 
 
 intrepide dans les combats, sans etre em- 
 porte, compatissant comme s'il n'avoit ja- 
 mais ete que malheureux, il n'est pas donne 
 a l'homme de pousser plus loin la vertu. — 
 Attaque de la peste devant Tunis, il se fit 
 etendre sur la cendre et expire, a l'age de 
 cinquante cinq ans, avec la piete d'un re- 
 jigieux et le courage d'un grand homme.' ? 
 How deplorable to reflect, that we can 
 neither love nor reverence the master who 
 has bequeathed this portrait to posterity ! 
 
 I never read without a tear the simple 
 account which has been delivered down to 
 us of the death, the prayer, and the last 
 words of the incomparable Bayard, a name 
 which the hero will never pronounce with- 
 out reverence and love. When he received 
 the fatal wound his first cry was " Jesus ! 
 ah, mon Dieu,je suis mort !" then he kissed 
 the handle of his sword, for want of a cross ; 
 he changed colour, and his men seeing him 
 stagger ran, and were about to carry him 
 out of the press : his friend D'Alegre en- 
 deavoured to persuade him, but he would 
 not permit it. " It is all over with me," 
 he said ; " I am a dead man ; I should be 
 f5 
 
106 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sorry in my last moments, and for the first 
 time in my life, to turn my back to the 
 enemy." He had still the strength to order 
 a charge, when he saw that the Spaniards 
 were beginning to advance. Then he 
 caused himself to be placed by some Swiss 
 at the foot of a tree, so that *' I may have 
 my face to the enemy." These were his 
 words. His maitre-d'hotel, who was a 
 gentleman of Dauphiny, named Jacques 
 JeofFre de Milieu, burst into tears by his 
 side, as did also the other attendants, whom 
 Bayard endeavoured to console. u It is 
 the will of God," said he, " to draw me to 
 himself ; he has preserved me long enough 
 in this world, and he has bestowed upon 
 me more mercy and grace than I have ever 
 4eserved." Then, in the absence of a priest, 
 he made his confession to his gentleman, 
 whom he commanded to take care that he 
 was not moved, since the least motion oc- 
 casioned insupportable pain. The Seigneur 
 D'Al£gre, Mayor of Paris, asked what were 
 
 his lagt wishes, and he received them, and 
 
 ■ St. 
 
 immediately John Diesbac, a Swiss Cap- 
 tain, proposed to remove him for fear that 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 107 
 
 he should fall into the hands of the enemy ; 
 but he replied to him, as he did to all the 
 officers who stood around. " Leave me to 
 think of my conscience for the few mo- 
 ments I have to live. I beseech you to re- 
 tire, lest you should be made prisoners, 
 and that would be an addition to my pain. 
 It is all over with me ; you can be of no 
 assistance to me in any thing. All that I 
 beg of you to do for me, Seigneur D'Ale- 
 gre, is to assure the King that I die his 
 servant, and only regretting that I cannot 
 serve him any more. 
 
 Present my respects to my Lords the 
 Princes of France, and to all the gentlemen 
 and captains. Farewell, my good friends, 
 I recommend to you my poor soul." Upon 
 this they took their last leave of him and 
 retired. At the same moment the Marquis 
 de Pescara came up to him, and with tears 
 in his eyes, exclaimed, would to God, 
 Seigneur Bayard, that I had shed my blood* 
 as much as I could lose without dying, to 
 have you now my prisoner in good health 5 
 you should soon know how much I have 
 always esteemed your person, your cou- 
 f 6 
 
108 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 rage, and all the virtues which you pos- 
 sess, and for which I have never known 
 your equal. He then caused his own tent 
 to be carried and spread round him, and 
 he assisted him upon the bed. He placed 
 a guard to take care that no one should 
 plunder or disturb him, and he himself 
 went for a Priest, to whom Bayard con- 
 fessed, in full possession of his faculties, 
 and with an edifying piety. The Spanish 
 army from the highest to the lowest has- 
 tened to admire the expiring hero. The 
 Constable de Bourbon came with the 
 others, and said, " Ah, Capitaine Bayard, 
 que je suis marri et deplaisant de vous 
 voir en cet etat ! je vous ai toujours aime 
 et honore pour la grande prouesse et sa>- 
 gesse qui est en vous ; ah ! que j r ai grande 
 pitie de vous !" Bayard summoned up his 
 strength, and with a firm voice, made him 
 that answer for ever memorable. " Mon- 
 seigneur, je vous remercie ; il n'y a point 
 de pitie en moi, qui meurs en homme 
 de bien, servant mon roi ; il faut avoir 
 pitie de vous, qui portez les armes contre 
 votre prince, votre patrie et votre ser- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 109 
 
 ment # ." The Constable remained a short 
 time with him, and gave him his reasons 
 for having left the kingdom ; but Bayard 
 exhorted him to seek the king's pardon 
 and favour, for that otherwise he would re- 
 main all his life without wealth or honour. 
 Bayard was left alone, and now he thought 
 only of death. He devoutly recited the 
 psalm, Miserere mei Deus ; after which he 
 prayed in the following words with a loud 
 voice f — ? O my God, who hast promised 
 an asylum in thy pity for the greatest sin- 
 ners who return to thee sincerely and with 
 all their heart : in thee do I place my trust, 
 and in thy promises all my hope. Thou 
 art my God, my Creator, my Redeemer. 
 I confess that against Thee I have mor- 
 tally offended, arid that a thousand years 
 
 * This passage will remind us of the account which 
 Lord Clarendon gives of the last words of the Earl of 
 Lindsey, who was slain in the battle of Edge-Hill. 
 The instances are precisely parallel, only that the 
 treason of the Earl of Essex was less excusable than 
 that of the Constable de Bourbon. Guilt admits of 
 degree, but the man of honour must be every where 
 the same. 
 
 f His Confessor was present. 
 
110 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 of fasting upon bread and water in the 
 desert, could never efface my sins ; but my 
 God, thou knowest that I had resolved to 
 repent if thou hadst prolonged my life ; 
 I know all my weakness, and that by my- 
 self I should never have been able to merit 
 the entrance into Paradise, and that no 
 creature can obtain it only through thy in- 
 finite mercy. O my God ! my father ! for- 
 get my sins, listen only to thy clemency — 
 Let thy justice be appeased by the merits 
 of the blood of Jesus Christ" — death cut 
 short the sentence. " His first cry," says 
 the amiable M. de Berville, who has writ- 
 ten his life, " his first cry, when he felt 
 himself mortally wounded, was the name 
 of Jesus," and it was pronouncing this ador- 
 able name that the hero yielded up his soul 
 to its Creator, the 30th of April, 1524, in 
 the forty-eighth year of his age. 
 
 You have been told of those who died 
 " the death of a philosopher this which 
 you have witnessed is the death of the 
 Christian. In the History of Galien Res- 
 taure, there is a very affecting account of 
 the death of that hero's father, the noble 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. Ill 
 
 Count Olivier, the brother of Roland. He 
 lived to discover his son, and to commend 
 him to the care of his uncle. " Peu de terns 
 apres Olivier jetta un grand soupir, disant. 
 Dieu tout puissant faites-moi misericorde 
 et ayez pitiez de ma pauvre ame. Apres 
 que le comte Olivier ent acheve son Orai- 
 son il leva les yeux au ciel et mit ses bras 
 en Croix, et rendit l'esprit a notre seigneur : 
 Roland qui etoit la voyant mourir son cher 
 ami, commenga a pleurer amerement celui 
 qui avoit ete le fleau des infidelles, et le 
 zele protecteur de la religion Catholique. 
 Galien etoit encore dans une plus grande 
 tristesse, il embrassoit son pere et fondoit 
 en larmes, disant ainsi : O cruelle mort, 
 pourqui m'as-tu si tot enleve mon pere ? 
 qui etoit le confert des Chretiens et Paumo- 
 nier des pauvres." If we return from ro- 
 mance to real history, no instance more 
 memorable can present itself, than the last 
 actions of Charlemagne. The historian 
 Velly, relates the numerous symptoms and 
 presages of his death, which were observed 
 at the time. " II la vit approcher," he then 
 adds, ** avec cette meme intrepidite avec 
 
112 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 laquelle il l'avoit affrontee dans les com- 
 bats. II travailloit sur Tecriture sainte, et 
 en corrigeoit une exemplaire qu'on lui avoit 
 donne, lorsque la fievre le surprit. Se sen- 
 tant pres de mourir, il fit le signe de la 
 croix sur son front et sur son cceur, posa 
 les mains sur son estomac, ferma les yeux 
 et expira en pronon§ant distinctement ces 
 paroles du Psalmiste : In manus tuas com* 
 mendo spiritum meum : redemisti me Domine 
 Deus veritatis. Ainsi mourut le heros de la 
 France et de Tunivers, le modele des grands 
 rois, Tornament et la gloire de Thumanite. 
 — Aussi celebre dans les fastes de la reli- 
 gion par sa piete qu'illustre dans les an- 
 nates du monde par ses exploits, Feglise Ta 
 mis au nombre des saints et toutes les na- 
 tions du concert lui ont donne le nom de 
 grand." 
 
 Turn we now to witness the last moments 
 of the great Orlando, wounded to death at 
 Ronceval, as related by Archbishop Tur- 
 pin. The following was his prayer. " O 
 Lord Jesus — to thee do I commit my soul 
 in this trying hour. Thou who didst suffer 
 on the cross for those who deserved not thy 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 113 
 
 favour, deliver my soul I beseech thee from 
 eternal death ! I confess myself a most 
 grievous sinner, but thou mercifully dost 
 forgive our sins ; thou pitiest every one, 
 and hateth nothing which thou hast made, 
 covering the sins of the penitent in what- 
 soever day they turn unto thee with true 
 contrition. O, thou who didst spare thy 
 enemies, and the woman taken in adultery ; 
 who didst pardon Mary Magdalen # , and 
 look with compassion on the weeping 
 Peter ; who didst likewise open the gate of 
 Paradise to the thief that confessed thee 
 upon the cross ; have mercy upon me, and 
 receive my soul into thy everlasting rest." 
 Then stretching his hands to heaven, he 
 prayed for the souls of them who perished 
 in the battle, and immediately after this 
 prayer, his soul winged its flight from his 
 body, and was borne by angels into Para- 
 dise. 
 
 In witnessing scenes of this melancholy 
 grandeur, the admiration and astonishment 
 
 * Qui Mariam absolvisti, 
 Qui Latronem exandisti, 
 Mihi quoque spem dedisti. 
 
114 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR* 
 
 of the historical student will be continually 
 excited. " C'est un example instructif 
 pour tous les etats, que la mort d'un grand 
 qui sait allier l'humilite chretienne a la 
 noblesse des sentimens." This is the 
 observation of the French historian An- 
 quetil, when he prepares to relate the tra- 
 gical death of the gallant Montmorenci, 
 who was abandoned by the Duke of Or- 
 leans to the resentment of his brother Louis 
 XIII. or rather perhaps of Richelieu. Per- 
 mission it seems had been granted to him 
 to have his hands at liberty on going to 
 execution, but he refused to avail himself 
 of this indulgence. *f Un grand pecheur 
 comme moi," said he, " ne peut mourir 
 avec assez d'ignominie." Of his own ac- 
 cord he took off his superb dress, in which 
 he was at liberty to have appeared. " Ose- 
 rais-je bien/' he said, u etant criminel 
 comme je suis, aller a la mort avec vanite, 
 pendant que mon sauveur innocent meurt 
 tout nu sur la croix." Every action of his 
 last moments was marked with the seal of 
 Christianity ; he was so full of confidence 
 that he seemed rather to desire than to fear 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 415 
 
 death; there did not escape from him 
 either complaint or murmur : he stepped 
 with firmness upon the scaffold, placed his 
 head upon the block, cried to the execu- 
 tioner " strike boldly," and he received 
 the blow in recommending his soul to 
 God*. 
 
 We expect to meet with such principles 
 in the martyrs of the Church. We are 
 then the less astonished at such instances 
 of the power of God in the doctrine of the 
 Cross ; we are prepared for the conduct of 
 the Archbishop of Aries, who generously 
 stepped forward to his assassins to save 
 his clergy, who were pressing round him, 
 and to lay down his own life with these 
 few words—" Je suis celui qui vous cher- 
 
 * The Duke was beheaded at Toulouse, where an 
 epitaph was written, of which the following lines were 
 the conclusion : 
 
 " Toi qui lis et qui ne sais pas 
 De quelle fajon le trepas 
 Enleva cette ame guerriere, 
 Ces deux vers t'en feront savant : 
 Laparque le prit per derriere 
 N'osant Pattaquer par devant." 
 
116 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR* 
 
 chez # but it overwhelms the mind with 
 surprize when this mysterious power is 
 exercised upon the proud heart of con- 
 querors and statesmen. Above all it is in 
 the death of kings that the observation of 
 Anquetil is most strikingly displayed. 
 Charles I. of England, Louis XVI. of 
 France, their death was clothed with all the 
 pomp of royalty. It was the monarch who 
 died while the saint ascended into heaven. 
 
 All these great sufferers acknowledged 
 the power to which they were indebted for 
 this support. The words of Louis XVI. 
 when he attended mass for the last time in 
 the tower of the temple, are very striking. 
 " Que je suis heureux, d'avoir conserve 
 mes principes de religion ! oil en serais-je, 
 en ce moment, si Dieu ne m'avoit pas fait 
 cette grace ?" In every sense of the word, 
 their death was the death of kings ; they 
 were monarchs of France and England, but 
 they were still greater, they were the lords 
 of themselves, of fortune, and of the 
 
 * The account is given in a letter to Mr. Gibbon. 
 Miscel. Works, vol. ii. 8vo. edit. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 117 
 
 world. They might have addressed their 
 murderers in the immortal language of the 
 Greeks— w£ awoKTEivoci /xevSi/vavra*, — BXavJ/a' 
 Se & S^vavrai, Kai ri rvy^n Swarai vogoq vrepi- 
 CaXsjv, a(psXs(j9at y j pn^<x,rcc > StafaXXstv rrpog 
 Srjjuov v rvpavvov* # xaxov Ss xou $si\ov, xai 
 
 * It will not be necessary to consult Thucydides, 
 or Livy, or the annals of the French Revolution, to 
 discover how perfectly these terms are synonymous. 
 The lesson will be found nearer home in Lord Cla- 
 rendon's History of the Rebellion. If tyrants have 
 put men to death contrary to law and justice, the 
 English parliament did the same. If tyrants have 
 imposed bands upon the consciences of their sub- 
 jects, the parliament ordered t( that no man should 
 presume to bow at the name of Jesus," according to 
 the command of Scripture and the canon and cus- 
 tom of the Church. If tyrants have had recourse 
 to opening private letters, the parliament pursued 
 the same policy. If tyrants have employed spies, the 
 parliament had spies in every room of the royal palace, 
 and in every private house. " Spies," says Lord Cla- 
 rendon, " were set upon, and inquiries made, upon all 
 private, light, casuaf discourses which fell from those 
 who were not gracious to them witness the case of 
 Mr. Trelawney, who was accused by these means, and 
 left to die in prison for want of common necessaries. 
 If tyrants have silenced even the ministers of religion, 
 the parliament did the same. If tyrants have put men 
 to death for their religion, the parliament were con- 
 
118 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 raTrsivoCppovx, xcci aysvvoj xoci ©Sovsgov & ^vmrcci 
 iromaou rov aya&ov xai avSgcySa}, x*i /^eyaXoxj/i/^ov. 
 
 tinually searching into all the prisons, and urging the 
 speedy execution of the priests, who were confined by 
 order of their inhuman and execrable law. If tyrants 
 are tormented with fear and jealousy, the parliament 
 expected invasion when there was no nation ofEurope 
 in a state to attack England ; they feared the ruin of 
 trade when the country had never been in so flourish- 
 ing a condition ; and they accused Lord Digby of levy- 
 ing war, because he went to Kingston-upon Thames in 
 a coach and six. If necessity be the plea of tyrants, 
 it was urged by the parliament to justify their arbi- 
 trary decrees. If tyrants have recourse to falsehood, 
 the parliament invented and published a list of names 
 to prove that the King had given objectionable passes. 
 If tyrants refuse to listen to the people, the House of 
 Commons rejected with contempt the petition of cer- 
 tain citizens of London, because " it was prepared by 
 a multitude/' If tyrants fawn upon their creatures, so 
 the parliament received Griffith w as their bravo," Mr. 
 Hampden taking him in his arms, and saying, " his 
 soul rejoiced to see that God had put it into his heart 
 to take the right way." If tyrants have had the art of 
 drawing over men of rank to co-operate in the destruc- 
 tion of every other power but their own, the parlia- 
 ment was supported by the Earls of Northumberland, 
 Pembroke, Essex, Warwick, Holland, and Sir John 
 Hotham. If tyrants reign by terror, so did the parlia- 
 ment. If tyrants hate, dread, and despise the generous 
 spirit of chivalry, so did the parliament. To be a gen- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 119 
 
 " The just man," says the great Massillon, 
 " is above the world, and superior to all 
 events, he commences in the present life to 
 reign with Jesus Christ. All creatures are 
 subject to him, and he is subject unto God 
 alone # ." 
 
 Of this more than regal dignity, the most 
 illustrious example that the world fyas ever 
 
 tleman was to be an enemy to their government, O 
 glorious testimony to the faith and honour of our an- 
 cestors ! But it is useless to multiply instances. If 
 tyrants are bloodthirsty and vindictive, unjust, and 
 arbitrary, base and treacherous, jealous and cowardly, 
 false and full of hypocrisy, artful and discerning, if 
 their measures are calculated to deceive their stupid 
 victims, and to conquer even the spirit of the brave, 
 the English parliament resembled them in every act 
 and principle, and in the final issue. The parliament 
 did more than this,— it held up to the lasting detesta- 
 tion of the generous and the good, the still more ter- 
 rific image of the tyrant people, the result of every 
 popular government, the concentrated villany of the 
 multitude, that monster which had been the scourge of 
 Greece and the slavery of Rome, and which now ap- 
 peared in the latter times to proclaim the unalterable 
 *aw and nature of things, and to inflict that punish- 
 ment upon a proud and avaricious people which the 
 Almighty in his wisdom had thought fit to decree. 
 * Homilie sur Lazare. 
 
120 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 beheld, excepting in the case which admits 
 of no comparison, that of our blessed Sa- 
 viour, was presented by Louis IX. in prison. 
 This meek and holy saint was more than 
 conqueror over his enemies, who declared 
 " que c'etoit le plus fier chretien qu'ils 
 eussent jamais connu." In vain did they 
 threaten him with the most dreadful tor- 
 ture, that which they called putting him 
 u en bernicles" by means of which inven- 
 tion, every bone of the body was gradually 
 broken ; the King replied with modesty, 
 Je suis prisonier du Sultan, il peut faire 
 de moi a son vouloir." What an astonish- 
 ing scene of horror and grandeur was that 
 when the Sarassin rebel rushed into his 
 prison after murdering the Sultan, with his 
 hands dropping blood, and crying out with 
 a ferocious voice, " What will you give me 
 for having made away with an enemy who 
 would have put you to death if he had 
 lived ?" Louis, more struck with horror at 
 the crime, than with fear for his own 
 safety, remained motionless, and disdained 
 to answer. Then the ruffian drawing his 
 sword, presented him the point, saying with 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 121 
 
 an accent of fury, " Choose either to die by 
 this hand, or else to give me this very mo- 
 ment the order of knighthood. " t€ Fais- 
 toi chretien," replied the intrepid mo- 
 narch, " et je te ferai chevalier." The 
 musulman rushed out of the prison. 
 
 I must desire you to observe the deep 
 humility of mind which was evinced upon 
 every subject connected with their relation 
 to God. The following will serve as an 
 instance ; it is an extract from the will of 
 Sir Lewes Clifford, who was convicted by 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury of some real 
 or imaginary errors. " In nomine Patris, 
 et filii, et spiritus sancti. Amen. The 
 sevententhe day of September, the yere of 
 our Lord Jesu Christ, a thousand foure 
 hundred and foure, I Lowys Clifforth, fals 
 and traytor to my Lord God, and to all the 
 blessed company of hevene, and unworthie 
 to be cleypd a christen man, make and 
 ordeyne my testament and my last will in 
 this manere. At the begynning, I most 
 unworthie and goddis traytor recommaunde 
 my wrechid and sinfule soule hooly to the 
 grace and to the grete mercy of the blesseci 
 
 G 
 
122 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 trynytie, &c. &c." From the bequest which 
 is mentioned in conclusion we may learn 
 what importance was attached by the laity 
 to every thing connected in any manner 
 with religion. " Now first I bequethe to 
 Sire Phylipe la Vache, knight, my masse 
 book, &c. &c." We shall find something 
 similar in the last dispositions of the un- 
 fortunate Louis XVI. a scholar, and cer- 
 tainly not a bigot, and living in an age 
 of knowledge and philosophy ; the latter 
 instance may therefore be regarded as ex- 
 plaining the former, and as teaching us not 
 to ascribe the bequest of Sir Lewes Clif- 
 ford to his ignorant superstition, but to 
 those common feelings of our nature which 
 true piety, under every circumstance and 
 in every age, is calculated to excite in the 
 human heart. " Nous ne sommes point 
 parfaits," says the incomparable Fenelon, 
 " jePavoue et je vous en avertispar avance ; 
 mais nous gemissons de ne Fetre pas. Vous 
 verrez parmi nous des scandales mais nous 
 les condamnons et nous desirons de les 
 corriger. II y en a eu jusque dans la plus 
 pure antiquite : faut-il s'etonner qu'il en 
 2 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 123 
 
 paroisse encore dans ces dernier siecles ? 
 Mais si vous trouvez dans notre tres-nom- 
 breuse Eglise beaucoup de Chretiens qui 
 n'en ont que le nom, et qui la deshonorent 
 vous y trouverez pour votre consolation 
 des ames recueillies, simples, mortes a 
 elles-memes, qui sont detachers, non seu- 
 lement des vices grossiers, mais encore des 
 plus subtiles imperfections, qui vivent de 
 foi et d'oraison, dont toute la conversation 
 est deja au ciel, qui usent du monde comme 
 n'en usant point, et qui sont jalouses con- 
 tre leur amour propre pour donner tout a 
 Tamour de Dieu. Si vous ne voulez pas 
 me croire, essayez le avec confiance en 
 Dieu. Venez goutez et voyez combien le 
 Seigneur est doux !" There has been no 
 period within the Christian era when this 
 language could not have been justly used. 
 If the sentiment and practice of chivalry 
 did not always display such perfection, 
 they were at least in harmony with it, and 
 they favoured its advancement. This hu- 
 mility of mind is continually displayed in 
 the confidence which is expressed in the 
 assistance of Heaven, as the only support 
 g2 
 
124 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 in danger. In the romance of Huon de 
 Bordeaux, when the two boys are on their 
 journey, Huon encourages his brother who 
 was terrified by a dream : " Mon tres doux 
 frere," he says, " ne vous esbaissez en rien 
 ains faictes bonne chere et joyeuse ; nostre 
 Seigneur Jesus Christ nous guarantira et 
 conduira a sauvement." They join com- 
 pany with the Abbot of Clugni, and when 
 the conspirators rush out upon them, the 
 Abbot exclaims to the youths, " N'avez 
 vous a nul homme fait tort, pour Dieu, si 
 vous sentez qu'ayez fait ou detenu aucune 
 chose que pas ne soit vostre, mettez vous 
 devant, et allez faire raison et vous ofFrir 
 de l'amender. Sire/' said Huon of Bor- 
 deaux, " je ne s§ay homme vivant au monde 
 a qui moy ny mon frere aye fait aucun 
 desplaisir, ne qui de nous soyons hais :" 
 and when Gerard is wounded, the author 
 observes that he was not mortally ; " car 
 nostre Seigneur garentit le jeune enfant :" 
 and at a subsequent period, when Huon 
 was going to meet his enemies at Mayence, 
 he dismissed all his noble attendants, say- 
 ing, V Je ne veux mener avec moy personne 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 125 
 
 que Dieu et ma bonne ep^e, ne vous ebahis* 
 sez de rien, car celui qui toujours m'a aide, 
 ne me laissera point." 
 
 In the romance of Amadis de Gaul # 
 there is a passage of much beauty, that 
 may serve to illustrate the real spirit and 
 manners of the age. His son Esplandian, 
 who has nearly conquered Matroco, the 
 infidel, in single combat, refrains his arm, 
 and calls upon him to become a Christian. 
 ft Le Dieu qui m'eclaire te poursuit par ma 
 main ; ce n'est point a moi que je te con- 
 jure de te rendre, c'est au Dieu vivant, qui 
 te trouve digne d'etre au nombre de ses 
 ^nfans," Matroco falls upon his knees, 
 <c Dieu des Chretiens," he cries " tu tri- 
 omphes ! O grand Dieu que je reconnois 
 prends pitie de moi i" With these words 
 he throws away his sword, and leaning on 
 his left hand, he draws the figure of the 
 cross with his right upon the sand, and 
 prostrates himself in adoration. At this 
 
 * There is a dissertation in the Memoirs of the 
 Academy, by S te Palaye, in which he shews the pro- 
 priety and necessity of regarding the ancient romances 
 as a source of historical instruction. 
 
 G 3 
 
126 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 convinciug mark of the divine grace, Es- 
 plandian falls upon his knees, and present- 
 ing his sword to Matroco, with the handle 
 towards him, " Ah ! digne chevalier/' he 
 cries, " recevez cette epee comme un gage 
 de la victoire que vous remportez sur vous 
 meme." 
 
 Firmly grounded in the Christian faith, 
 and sensible of its superior importance 
 above every earthly consideration, is it 
 wonderful that they should regard with re- 
 verence its ordained ministers, who had an 
 unquestionable title, and a divine autho- 
 rity ? strange indeed would it have been if 
 the case had been otherwise. Proud and 
 self-willed men hold every restraint and 
 prescription in rooted aversion. If they 
 are to be saved it must be in the way of 
 their own approval, and of their own choice. 
 If they are to be members of a religious 
 community it must be of that particular 
 sect or party, or family that appeareth most 
 agreeable in their own eyes. They have 
 no notion of submitting to the Church as 
 their mother, or to the Clergy as the suc- 
 cessors of the Apostles, and as bearing a 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 127 
 
 divine commission. If they happen to dis- 
 like their curate, the conventicle and the 
 preacher afford an instant resource, and 
 while they think that they are worshipping 
 God, they are indulging their pride, emula- 
 tion, and resentment. Submission is a 
 virtue which they regard as the vice that 
 will be the ruin of their rights and liberty. 
 They utterly scorn and disown the prin- 
 ciple. Humility is for ever on their tongue, 
 but we must conclude that their practice is 
 deferred till they arrive in the eternal world, 
 for certainly it is not exerted towards any 
 object of the present scene. To such spirits 
 what are the clergy, what are the rules and 
 discipline, the prayers and sacraments of 
 the Church ? they are nothing, or worse 
 than nothing ; they are the badges of ty- 
 ranny and oppression, of a government 
 which they hate, and of authority which 
 they disown. 'AyaTin <y%^cc oux says 
 St. Clement in his First Epistle, and since 
 ft love is the fulfilling of the law," the infe- 
 rence is clear with respect to those men of 
 whom Dryden said with not less truth than 
 pleasantry, that " they were always the 
 g 4 
 
28 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR* 
 
 most visible Church in the Christian world, 
 if sp ritual pride, venom, violence, con- 
 tempt of superiors, and slander, had been 
 the marks of orthodox belief." '* Suppose 
 we," says Hooker, " that the sacred word 
 of God can, at their hands, receive due 
 honour, by whose incitement the holy or- 
 dinances of the Church endure every where 
 open contempt ?" No, it is not possible, 
 Cmark the strength of this expression, from 
 the mouth of Hooker, the mildest and 
 most considerate of men) " it is not possi- 
 ble they should observe as they ought the 
 one, who from the other withdraw unne- 
 cessarily their own or their brethren's obe- 
 dience." But the humble and the contrite 
 spirit of the Christian is displayed in gen- 
 tleness, submission, gratitude, and charity. 
 To the Church he looks with veneration, 
 to her clergy, to her prayers, to her sacra- 
 ments, to her discipline, they are asso- 
 ciated in his mind with that glorious sys- 
 tem of truth which is the support and the 
 life of his soul in time and in eternity ; and 
 such was the spirit, such was the opinion, 
 and the practice of ancient chivalry. The 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 129 
 
 gentlemen of old were brave and indepen- 
 dent, but they knew when they should be 
 humble and obedient. 
 
 ■ ke'ivohji 8' av anc 
 
 Twv, ot vvv fipOToi riaiv ImxQovioi, fiaxtoiro' 
 ILal fisv fiev jSaXtwi/ Zvviov 9 weiOovro rc /xv0y. 
 
 I care not for any charge which the 
 bigots of infidelity may cast upon this opi- 
 nion, but I maintain and I exhort you to 
 remember that a deference for the clergy, 
 an unfeigned respect and veneration for 
 their order, not terminating in an assent to 
 the general proposition, but leading to the 
 habitual practice of the disposition towards 
 individual ministers, towards the priest, 
 who is a stranger, as well as towards the 
 curate of your own parish, is the bounden 
 duty of every gentleman, both as a Chris- 
 tian and as a man of rank, which latter 
 circumstance only increases the general 
 obligation by the weight of example, which 
 double obligation is deduced at once from 
 the reasoning of Nicole, in the treatise to 
 which I have already referred. Earthly 
 rank and grandeur are but the instruments 
 g 5 • 
 
130 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 of Providence to enforce and recommend 
 the observance of his will : " Ainsi la 
 grandeur est un purministere qui a pour fin 
 Phonneur de Dieu et l'avantage des hom- 
 ines, qui ne les rapporte point a elle-meme. 
 Elle n'est point pour soi, elle est pour les 
 autres ; — pour etablir l'empire de Dieu et 
 pour procurer sa gloire." 
 
 Upon no subject of history have the 
 'philosophers of the day so loudly declaimed 
 as upon the disgraceful deference, as they 
 term it, with which the clergy were re- 
 garded in the middle ages. It is most 
 true, it is most consoling to reflect, that 
 they were the objects of this respect. 
 " Souvenez vous," said the Constable Du 
 Guesclin, when he was dying, " que par- 
 tout ou vous ferez la guerre, les ecclesias- 
 tiques, le pauvre peuple, les femmes et les 
 enfans, ne sont point vos ennemis ; que 
 vous ne portez les armes que pour les de- 
 fendre et les proteger." These were his 
 last words. When the town of Mounte 
 Ferante, in Auvergne was taken by Perot 
 le Bernoys and his company, this captain 
 had charged on pain of death, " that no 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 131 
 
 man should be so hardy to hurte any 
 Churche, or trouble any man of the 
 Churche." " This maner," says Froissart, 
 " ever Perot used, whensoever he wonne 
 any towne or fortresse," so that the free- 
 booter treated the Clergy with the same 
 respect as did the Constable of France. 
 The hero, Galien Restaure, is called, by 
 the writer of his history, " un veritable en- 
 fant de la sainte Eglise, et un genereux 
 defFenseur de la Religion Chretienne," 
 which imply the quality that his actions 
 every where display, of an unfeigned at- 
 tachment to the clergy. Of Louis IX. the 
 historian Velly testifies, "j'amais prince 
 n'eut un plus sincere respect pour les mi- 
 nistres de Jesus Christ." Rhodolph of 
 Habsburgh being engaged in hunting, met, 
 between Fahr and Baden, a priest on foot, 
 and as the road was extremely dirty, and 
 the torrents swollen with rain, he alighted 
 and gave his horse to the priest, saying, it 
 ill became him to ride while the minister 
 of God (the bearer of Christ's body) walked 
 on foot : at the same time he expressed his 
 gratitude and veneration to the Supreme 
 g 6 
 
132 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Being who had raised him from the huts of 
 his ancestors to the throne of the empire. 
 Many other instances might be produced 
 from history : but the ridicule and the in- 
 dignation of such men are not calculated 
 to lessen that respect with which Chris- 
 tians, and I trust with which Christian 
 gentlemen, will for ever regard the Clergy. 
 It will be an evil day for the first, and it 
 will be the signal of destruction for the 
 second, when this respect shall be no longer 
 extended. The clergy were esteemed, pro- 
 tected, and honoured by Justinian and 
 Theodosius, by Charlemagne and Alfred, 
 by Louis IX. Louis XII. Henry IV. and 
 Louis XVI. of France ; they were by 
 Henry VI. by Charles I. by George III. 
 of England, they were defended by the 
 greatest of their subjects, who were emi- 
 nent for virtue, for learning, and for wis- 
 dom, by a Leibnitz and a Newton, a Pas- 
 cal and a Locke, and it is not the pedan- 
 tic triflers in a despicable philosophy, it 
 is not the blood-thirsty assassins of the 
 French Revolution, it is not the present 
 infidel anticipators of democracy, impiety, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 133 
 
 and plunder, that will overthrow the weight 
 of such a sanction, or shake the force of 
 such an authority. 
 
 You will observe that I do not attempt 
 to enter upon a defence of the clergy dur- 
 ing the middle ages. That they have been 
 calumniated, misrepresented, and ungrate- 
 fully recompensed, every hour of histori- 
 cal research leads me to believe. That 
 such is the fact you will find maintained 
 by some of the most eminent and profound 
 writers, both laymen and ecclesiastics. I 
 wave all considerations of this kind, for it 
 is neither my plan nor province to detain 
 you upon the subject. Having, however, 
 once excited your attention, I cannot direct 
 you to the pursuit of other inquiry, with- 
 out wishing to engage your affections, as 
 well as to convince your judgment; in a 
 cause which I certainly regard as of the 
 highest importance to the best interests of 
 mankind ; I allude to the influence, the 
 proper influence of the clergy # . 
 
 * Charlemagne in forbidding the clergy to serve in 
 the army,coneludes his edict with these words, " quanto 
 qilis eorum amplius suara normam servaverit, et Deo 
 
134 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 It was in the year 404 that the gladia- 
 torial shows were finally terminated by the 
 courage of Telemachus, a Christian monk, 
 who had travelled from the East to Rome, 
 expressly for the purpose. He rushed into 
 the midst of the area of the Flavian Am- 
 phitheatre, and endeavored to separate the 
 combatants. Alypius, the Proetor, who 
 was fond of the games, gave orders to the 
 gladiators to slay him, and Telemachus 
 obtained the crown of martyrdom. Even 
 Mr. Gibbon is forced to admire instances 
 of this kind. On another occasion he ob- 
 serves, " the example of Theodosius may 
 prove the beneficial influence of those 
 principles which could force a monarch, 
 exalted above the apprehension of human 
 punishment, to respect the laws and mi- 
 nisters of an invisible Judge." 
 
 During the middle ages the voice of the 
 clergy was uniformly, and often success- 
 fully raised against the oppression and in- 
 justice of the great knights and barons. 
 They even obtained certain intervals of in- 
 
 servierit, tanto cum plus honorare et cariorem habere 
 volumus." — Cap. db Baluze, z. 1. p. 410. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 155 
 
 termission from every act of violence. If 
 they did not accomplish more than this, 
 we must lament their inability, but not con- 
 demn their indifference. They were the 
 best landlords, the most merciful, the most 
 humane masters, and they censured and 
 endeavoured to prevent all cruel and inju- 
 rious diversions. No country of Europe is 
 more indebted to this influence of the 
 clergy than England. In the reign of 
 Henry III. it was the clergy who secured 
 the execution of the great charter. Magna 
 Charta itself is partly the work of Stephen 
 Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury. And 
 the doctrine of passive obedience as be- 
 longing to the orthodox creed, was not 
 heard of in this kingdom till Henry VIII. 
 had destroyed the privileges of the clergy, 
 Had abolished their influence in the House 
 of Peers, and had arrogated to himself the 
 spiritual supremacy. 
 
 Against duelling their labours were in- 
 cessantly directed, and when they could 
 not prevent they at least diminished the 
 guilt of their generation. There is a strik- 
 ing narrative in the history of French chi- 
 
136 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 valry which will illustrate the subject, and 
 point out the general benefit, and the scenes 
 of exquisite beauty in point of taste, which 
 might sometimes arise from the exercise 
 of this influence. Two Spanish gentlemen, 
 the Seigneurs Sainte-Croix and Azevedo, 
 were made prisoners at Bologna, where 
 they had a quarrel. It was during the wars 
 of Louis XIL in Italy. Azevedo accused 
 Sainte-Croix of a treacherous design to 
 assassinate him : Sainte-Croix had given 
 him the lie, and had offered to exculpate 
 himself by mortal combat, " par combat a 
 outrance." Azevedo commissioned the ba- 
 ron of Beam to ask permission from the 
 Duke of Nemours. This being granted, 
 and the field for combat, he challenged 
 Sainte-Croix, who accepted the duel, and 
 the parties met without delay. The spot 
 chosen was before the palace of the Duke 
 of Ferrara. Sainte-Croix was accompanied 
 by a hundred gentlemen. Among others by 
 Don Pedro d'Acugna, his relation, knight 
 of Rhodes, and grand Prior of Messina. 
 Azevedo appeared with a similar attendance 
 and his relation Frederic de Gonzagues, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 13? 
 
 Count of Bozolo* As sooh as Azevedo en* 
 tered the lists with all arms, either to fight 
 on foot or on horseback, the grand Prior 
 of Messina advanced towards him, and 
 presented two sharp swords and two dag- 
 gers, that he might choose, for Sainte- 
 Croix would not permit any other arms. 
 Then their relations came forward to feel 
 that they had no concealed armour under 
 their dress. The combatants proceeded to 
 prayer, and the lists were cleared, only the 
 two relations remaining and Bayard, whom 
 the Duke of Ferrara had appointed judge 
 of the field. The herald having proclaimed 
 silence, the two adversaries marched up 
 fiercely and commenced to fight with such 
 address that each had need of a firm foot 
 and a sharp eye. After many ineffectual 
 blows, Sainte-Croix aimed with all his 
 strength at the face of Azevedo, who par- 
 ried the blow with great skill, and in re- 
 turn forced his sword into the thigh of 
 Sainte-Croix from the hip to the knee. 
 The blood burst out, and Sainte-Croix 
 made but one step, and fell. Azevedo cried 
 out, Surrender Sainte-Croix or I will kill 
 
138 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 you, but without answering he sat on the 
 ground, with the sword in his hand, and 
 continued to thrust against his adversary. 
 Azevedo pressed him to rise, saying that he 
 was unwilling to strike him on the ground. 
 Sainte-Croix attempted to rise, but he only 
 made two steps, and fell upon his face ; the 
 other lifted up his sword to strike off his 
 head, but he stopped his hand. The 
 Duchess of Ferrara, terrified, entreated the 
 Duke of Nemours to separate them. I 
 cannot do it with honour, madam, was his 
 reply. Justice gives the conquered to the 
 conqueror. Sainte-Croix was bleeding to 
 death, but he would not surrender. The 
 Prior of Messina accosted Azevedo, and 
 said to him, Seigneur, I know the heart of 
 Sainte-Croix, and that until death he will 
 not surrender, I am his relation, I surren- 
 der myself in his stead. Then the surgeons 
 were called, and Sainte-Croix was carried 
 from the field. 
 
 The lesson which you should derive from 
 this striking narrative, is, first, that it is 
 the duty of the clergy, of every priest, 
 whether curate, or rector, or bishop, to in- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 139 
 
 terfere, and to exert all the powers of in- 
 fluence and authority with which the Gos- 
 pel and the law have invested them, in the 
 prevention, or at least in the diminution of 
 human crime, and secondly, (which is the 
 lesson more immediately applicable to you,) 
 that it is the duty of every layman, whether 
 the country gentleman or the noble, the 
 general or the monarch, to receive this act 
 of interference with respect, and to ac- 
 quiesce in their measures of religion, bene- 
 volence, and mercy. A very beautiful ex- 
 ample of the same nature occurs in the 
 sixteenth book of the Morte d'Arthur. 
 When Sir Lyonel had overthrown his bro- 
 ther Sir Bors, and was preparing to strike 
 off his head, " Thenne came the herefnyte 
 rennyng unto hym, whiche was a good man 
 and of grete age, and wel had herd alle 
 the wordes that were betwene them, and 
 soo felle doune upon Syre Bors. Thenne 
 he sayd to Lyonel, " O gentyl knyghte, 
 have mercy upon me and on thy broder, for 
 yf thow slee hym, thou shalte be dede of 
 synne, and that were sorrowful, for he is 
 one of the worthyest knyghtes of the world, 
 
140 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and of the best condycyons." *■ Soo God 
 me help/ sayd Lyonel, ' Syr Preest, but yf 
 ye flee from hym, I shall slee yow, and he 
 shalle never the sooner be quyte/ * Certes/ 
 said the good man, * I have lever ye slee 
 me than hym, for my dethe shalle not be 
 grete harme, nothalfe soomoche as of his/ 
 * Wei/ sayd Lyonel, ' I am greed/ and 
 sette his hand to his sword, and smote hym 
 soo hard, that his hede yede backward." 
 For the honour of knighthood it is record- 
 ed of this murderer, that " the fende had 
 broughte hym in suche a wyl." My great 
 grandfather who was a prelate, and ho- 
 noured by a personal intimacy with James 
 II. never omitted an opportunity to remon- 
 strate against his unjust proceedings, and 
 though the King disregarded his lessons he 
 did not the less respect his person. 
 
 I shall only observe in conclusion of this 
 subject, that as the clergy were respected 
 from a principle of religion, so from a re- 
 gard to every thing connected with this 
 venerable subject, the erection and the 
 maintenance of churches was considered 
 as highly becoming in the nobles and fa- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 141 
 
 milies of ancient rank. This may be 
 thought a trifling circumstance, but it is 
 important both in an historical and in a 
 religious point of view, as illustrating the 
 manners and spirit of the age. It is a sub- 
 ject, however, upon which I shall not de- 
 tain you, because I am conscious that we 
 should not betray our enthusiasm in any 
 but the most important cause. When I 
 behold the tower of Exeter cathedral, built 
 by the Courtenays, and when I hear the 
 deep-toned bells which were the gift of 
 that once illustrious family, when I walk 
 in the cathedral of Salisbury, and read the 
 inscription upon the beautiful tomb of Ed- 
 ward Poore, Esq. the lineal descendant of 
 Richard, bishop of the see, and founder of 
 the cathedral, in 1220, and when at another 
 time I behold the stately palace of some 
 modern lord erecting its proud towers as 
 if in disdain of the humble fabric by its 
 side, which is dedicated to the worship of 
 the most high God, then I confess I admire 
 the indignation of Johnson at " the despi- 
 cable philosophy which despises these mo- 
 numents of sacred magnificence," and I 
 
142 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 adore and venerate the piety of our an- 
 cestors # . 
 
 * What would have been the feelings of Johnson, if 
 he had lived to see a Cathedral in England closed upon 
 Sundays, with the exception of a small part of the 
 choir ; the nave and the great body of the building, 
 converted to all intents and purposes into a museum, 
 to afford amusement to the curious, and emolument to 
 the vergers : and an order recognized and established, 
 which decreed, that they should never be entered as 
 a place of worship and for the purpose of devotion f 
 Yet such is the regulation which now exists (I write 
 in the year 1822,) in the interior of the most celebrated 
 of our ecclesiastical structures. Upon what grounds 
 can such a proceeding be justified ? Is it that the con- 
 duct of the people who resorted there was inattentive 
 and profane ? But it is not by excluding them that they 
 can be made devout. Is it that the people are thought 
 to be insensible to the secret devotion, and to the reli- 
 gious feelings, which the building itself is calculated to 
 excite, and therefore that they may be excluded from 
 all parts but such as must be open to constitute a place 
 of worship ? What is our authority for this opinion ? 
 And if it were just, where would be our excuse in 
 withholding the very remedy which has been provided 
 for the vulgar against this particular evil of indiffer- 
 ence to which they are subject ? Madame de Sevigne, 
 indeed, alludes, in one of her letters to the saying of 
 a certain Prelate, who treated the people of his diocese 
 as the u Canaille chrttiennef but let us hope that in 
 England the sentiment may be as strange as the ex- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 143 
 
 Madame de Stael has had the courage 
 to point out the advantages of an ancient 
 
 pression. Is it to preserve the decorations and the 
 pavement from being sullied ? But who that has seea 
 the floor of St. Mark's Church at Venice, of St. An- 
 thony's at Padua, and of St. Stephen's at Vienna, with 
 the indentures and inequality caused by the tread of 
 the faithful for successive generations, and can ap- 
 prove of the taste which could dictate such a regula- 
 tion ? I would respectfully suggest to the individuals 
 who have the care and superintendance of our cathe- 
 drals, that they were not raised by the charity of the 
 faithful to form a museum or exhibition, to be open 
 every day in the week, excepting Sundays, for a sti- 
 pulated price. I would remind them of the indelicacy, 
 of the sacrilege which is committed, when the house 
 of prayer is converted to such purposes. What ! have 
 we not exhibitions to fnrnish entertainment in our 
 metropolis, or despise we the Church of God ? In 
 the treaty which Musa made with Roderic the Gothic 
 king of Spain, A.D. 712, on the conquest of that 
 kingdom by the Mahometans, one of the articles in- 
 sisted upon was, that the doors of the churches should 
 be closed, except upon the intervals of worship. The 
 infidels knew the effect which was produced by the 
 custom of having them always open. Have we lived 
 to see the same law, unqualified by any exception, 
 but that of payment, enacted by the friends of Chris- 
 tianity ? Will it be said that this regulation is neces- 
 sary to preserve the beauty of the building ? But to 
 such a motive, let not the name of taste be applied. 
 
144 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 custom, which had been discontinued, and 
 even regarded with contempt by those who 
 
 The taste which terminates in the admiration of white 
 marble, and a spotless pavement, is contemptible. 
 There is nothing confined or exclusive in what ap- 
 pertains to genius ; and the mind which can endure 
 to deprive the faithful of the delight and edification 
 prepared for them, by the piety of their ancestors, in 
 the erection of these sacred edifices, must of neces- 
 sity be void of all sense to relish, or even to compre- 
 hend what is elevated or venerable, beautiful or 
 sublime If it be imagined that censure may be 
 escaped because men are generally indifferent upon 
 such subjects, the clergy will do well to remember, 
 that such indifference proceeds either from the fana- 
 ticism which abhors both the church and its ministers, 
 or from the secret or avowed infidelity which despises 
 both ; and what may be apprehended from both or 
 either of these causes, it is for them to consider. On 
 the other hand, though surely not in justification of 
 these regulations, of this most coarse and unskilful 
 remedy, it must be confessed, that from whatever 
 cause it may arise, the conduct of the lower ranks of 
 society in England, in many instances, is such as to 
 make their exclusion almost necessary to the existence 
 of a sanctuary. How often does the congregation 
 present a crowd of persons who seem alike ignorant 
 of the forms and of the faith of the church ? Nor is 
 it to be wondered at, for when persons after struggling 
 to leave the station of life to which it Las pleased 
 God to call them, are arrived at that condition a$ 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 145 
 
 profess the religion of Calvin, but which 
 can never fail to interest and to please per- 
 sons of a religious mind, until they have 
 been instructed to associate it with the ob- 
 ject of their aversion, in the detestation of 
 which a great part of some men's religion 
 may depend. The remark is made upon the 
 occasion of a visit to the cathedral of St. 
 Stephen's, at Vienna. " It is a pious cus- 
 tom of the Catholics, and one," she conti- 
 nues to observe, " which we ought to imi- 
 tate, to leave their churches always open ; 
 there are so many moments when we stand 
 in need of this asylum, and we can never 
 enter without experiencing a sensation 
 which benefits the mind, and which re- 
 stores it to strength and purity, as if by a 
 holy ablution." And upon another occa- 
 sion the same writer has observed, in allu- 
 sion to St. Peter's Church, at Rome, " I 
 
 actually to occupy no specific place in society ; they 
 are necessarily deprived of the education which be- 
 longs to any. There are indeed many occasions when 
 it will be difficult not to acknowledge the truth of Mr. 
 Southey's assertion, " that the populace in England 
 are more ignorant of their religious duties than they 
 are in any other Christian country." 
 
 H 
 
146 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 frequently enter and walk there to restore 
 my spirits to the serenity which they some- 
 times lose. The view of such a monument 
 is like a continual music, which is ever 
 ready to produce a happy effect upon your 
 mind when you draw near to enjoy it # ." 
 
 * Men of sectarian minds cannot be expected to re- 
 lish these concessions to an ancient enemy. Upon 
 their side of the question the infidels and new philo- 
 sophers will be found. A Frenchman of this class came 
 up very officiously to my friend, who was entering a 
 church in Germany, and observed that the custom of 
 leaving the church always open was very good, " Pour 
 les gens sans lumiere." 
 
 In the roval chapel at Dresden I have been shocked 
 by the behaviour of the Protestants, who resort there 
 to hear the music, to see their acquaintances, to lounge 
 away the morning in hearing and conversing, and who 
 appear with shameless effrontery to insult the piety of 
 their King in the very sanctuary of his temple. In 
 England such conduct is unknown ; but it must be con- 
 fessed that during the intervals of service the nave or 
 the anti-chapel is disgracefully profaned. I know of 
 nothing more calcnlated to excite the romantic senti- 
 ments of the heart, not to speak of the more important 
 influence of religious feeling, than the distant chaunt 
 and the solemn delivery of those inimitable prayers 
 which are offered by our Church in the evening ser- 
 vice. Yet what is the practice of the persons who are 
 within hearing of this solemnity ? they are engaged in 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 147 
 
 At the present day, when the fury of in- 
 novation has passed away with the laudable 
 zeal for correcting the abuses which had 
 deformed the doctrines of the Church, there 
 are I conceive but few persons of genuine 
 religion who will not acknowledge the jus- 
 tice of this remark, and admit the advan- 
 tages which are here spoken of. 
 
 " Whatever ridicule to a philosophical 
 mind/' says Mr. Hume, " may be thrown 
 on pious ceremonies, it must be confessed 
 that during a very religious age, no insti- 
 tution can be more advantageous to the 
 rude multitude, and tend more to mollify 
 that fierce and gloomy spirit of devotion to 
 which they are subject." — " It only remains 
 to observe," says Mr. Gibbon, in that pas- 
 sage where he eulogises the effects of the 
 Reformation, " whether such sublime sim- 
 
 conversation and mirth, never considering what an 
 injury they inflict upon the more acute feelings of 
 those who would derive from that moment the sweet 
 serenity of religious meditation, and the dignified en- 
 joyment of uniting public worship with the unseen de- 
 votion of the closet. * 
 
 H 2 
 
148 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 plicity be consistent with popular devo- 
 tion : whether the vulgar in the absence of 
 all visible objects will not be inflamed by 
 enthusiasm, or insensibly subside in 
 languor and indifference." Pros- 
 pective reasoning of this kind, combined 
 with the facts which present themselves at 
 the present day, will excite the curiosity 
 at least of every religious enquirer. On 
 the one hand he may have attended the 
 meetings of the Welch Methodists, and he 
 knows the character of our own ; on the 
 other, he may have assisted at the service 
 of our holy church in Vienna, where the 
 walls of the apartment were decorated with 
 tapestry, representing images of debauch, 
 and he has attended the same service at 
 home in a modern London chapel, de- 
 signed for use and general accommodation. 
 I will confess that the conclusion at which 
 he arrives is both painful and alarming. It 
 is true the most sceptical philosopher could 
 find no ordained ceremonies to ridicule in 
 the former case, nor any vestige of supersti- 
 tion to despise in the latter ; but there was 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 149 
 
 extravagance that excited horror, but there 
 was an infidelity that could not be dis- 
 guised. 
 
 It is true the sign of the cross was not 
 visible, but he would ask the spectators 
 who were present, did they fee 1 an interest 
 in the preaching of its doctrine ? the feel- 
 ings with which he withdrew were certainly 
 not disgust at the superstition of the people, 
 but rather of terror for their undisguised 
 indifference, and for their sceptical con- 
 tent. 
 
 But to return, and resume our subject. 
 Upon the whole, the conclusion seems to 
 be this, that there is a natural connection 
 between the sentiments of high honour and 
 sincerity of Christian faith ; between heroic 
 valour and profound piety. " There is 
 nothing narrow, nothing of slavery, nothing 
 confined in religion ; it is the immense, the 
 infinite, the eternal." The high senti- 
 ments of honour, the generous enthusiasm 
 of chivalry, — so far are these from being 
 contrary to its influence, that they confirm 
 and exalt it. " Imagination soars above 
 thg limits of the present life, and the sub- 
 h3 
 
150 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 lime in every subject is a reflection from 
 the Divinity ." Fenelon, who certainly can- 
 not be accused of a worldly disposition in 
 his views of religion, was of this opinion, 
 and in writing to the Countess of Gra- 
 mont, upon the recovery of her husband 
 from a dangerous illness, he expresses him- 
 self in remarkable terms, which sanction 
 the spirit of chivalrous devotion. " This 
 restoration to good health," he observes, 
 " is indeed delightful ; it is the gift of 
 God, and it would be unjust to employ it 
 against him. The Count must pursue an 
 open line of conduct, and full of honour 
 towards God as well as towards the world. 
 God is pleased to accommodate himself to 
 noble sentiments : true nobility requires 
 fidelity, firmness, and confidence. Will a 
 man who is so grateful to the King for the 
 gift of perishable good, will he be ungrate- 
 ful and faithless to God who bestows so 
 much ? I can never believe. " And the vir- 
 tuous instructor of the Duke of Burgundy 
 had acted upon the same principle. u Je 
 promets, foi de prince," was the form of 
 engagement to which the pupil subscribed, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, lol 
 
 and which Fenelon was accustomed to im- 
 pose when he had occasion to desire an ad- 
 herence to a particular duty. The child of 
 eight years of age was made to comprehend 
 the force of these words, " foi de prince 
 et d'honneur." 
 
 That many acts of faith were recom- 
 mended from a principle of honour is 
 strikingly displayed in a remark of Bran- 
 torne, upon an act of suicide. " This," 
 he observes, " is not the mark of a Chris- 
 tian ; for we must never abandon the gar- 
 rison of this life v^ithout obtaining our dis- 
 missal from the great General, who is our 
 sovereign God, and for this reason we 
 cannot praise his death # ." 
 
 * Let this principle be compared with the philoso* 
 phical tenet of Cicero, which is so well known to the 
 classical student. Tuscul. ii. 27. And for which the Ro- 
 man moralist had certainly no excuse since he must have 
 been aware that the impiety of suicide was the grand 
 doctrine of the mysteries, taught to all, as beneficial to 
 society, and since he himself relates, " vetatque Py- 
 thagoras injussu imperatoris, id est, Dei, de praesidio 
 et statione viiae decedere," (de senec.) The words of 
 Plato also were before him, wg Iv nvi (pgapq. svpev oi 
 dv0pu)7roi kcii oh dei drj kavTov Ik Tavrrjg \vztv ovd' aVo* 
 
 11 4 
 
152 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 And this advantage to the cause of virtue 
 was not overlooked even by the ancient 
 moralists. " Una Hanibalem hiberna sol- 
 verunt," says Seneca, " et indomitum ilium 
 nivibus atque alpibus virum enervaverunt 
 fomenta Campanise, armis vicit, victiis 
 victus est. Nobis quoque militandum est 
 et quidam genere militiae, quo nunquam 
 quies, nunquam otium datur." 
 
 It is still less difficult to trace the con- 
 nection between heroism and piety. When 
 Philip entered Peloponnesus, at the head of 
 his army, it was said that the Lacedemo- 
 nians would have to suffer much if they did 
 recover his favour. " Ah, coward !" re- 
 plied the Spartan, " what have they to suf- 
 fer who fear not death ?" Mark the union of 
 qualities attributed to Alexander by that 
 most accurate historian Arrian, ro re guiak 
 KaXkt<JTO$, Kai (piXonovcoraros, koli b%vra.ros vevo- 
 
 (jlotoctoS xoci (pikoxiM^vvoraros , xa* t« Sei« eth^ls- 
 Xsararog # . Remember the answer of the 
 poet's hero to the praises of his sister, who 
 commended him for his deed. 
 
 * Ar. lib. vii. 28. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 153 
 
 Oeovg fji€V fjyov wpwrov, 'HXstcrpa, TV%rjQ 
 'Apxrfyerag T^ad', hra kcl\i sTraivtvov, 
 Tov tcjv Qeuv te ttjq tvxvq 0' v7rrjpSTrjv *• 
 
 And upon the memorable retreat from Sy- 
 racuse, when the Athenian general was 
 endeavouring to raise the spirits of his 
 disheartened soldiers, we may rely upon 
 the truth of that statement which he pro- 
 duced relative to his own character and 
 conduct through life, saying kui roi ttoXKoc 
 
 dvQqcuTrous Sixocia, xat avsTTi^Sova. avO* m tj (aev 
 bKttis opus 9g%GEi<x, rov jtAeXXovrof *f*. If heroism 
 and piety were thus united in the character 
 of the heathens, need we wonder at the 
 same connection subsisting when men have 
 embraced a religion which powerfully cor- 
 rects the feelings, and developes the vir- 
 tues of the human heart ? " When we are 
 Christians," says Fenelon, " we can no 
 longer be cowards. The essence of Chris- 
 tianity, if I may so express myself, is the 
 contempt of this life and the love of 
 another. Let it be observed also that the 
 
 * Eurip. Electra. S85. f Thucyd. lib. vii. 77. 
 
 H 5 
 
154 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 courage of the Christian, and his contempt 
 of death, arising from his perfect resigna- 
 tion to the will of God, have a tendency to 
 preserve him upon occasions which prove 
 fatal to men of less firm character. 
 
 " Nullum numen habes si sit prudentia." 
 
 And in the following words Xenophon 
 teaches this memorable lesson, the resultof 
 his own experience, to the anxious and 
 dispirited soldiers of the Greek army. 
 
 Evre&t/piyjptai eyuvs, c5 avSges", xai rovro y 
 
 OT7, OWOGQl pCSV (AOCGTEUOUGl £?}V £K 9TaVT0£ TQOltOV 
 
 iv rois <7ro\E[/.ixoif 9 ovroi xoixojs te xat aaayjgws 
 
 £)S E7II TtQkv OLTToOvnGKOUGlV* 0*710001 TOV &ava- 
 
 rov syvtoffav waai koivov eIvxi xati avay>taiov dv8%co- 
 ttoiS, tteqi tov xaXojs an 'gQvvigkeiv ayow^ovrai, 
 toutovs bqu (jlocWov moot hs to yypocs 'aQtwoviJLS- 
 
 yovT&S *« 
 
 Surely, then, every sentiment of your 
 soul will lead you to the belief and practice 
 of this glorious religion, so venerable, so 
 grand, so animating in the association with 
 
 * Anab. iii. 1. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 155 
 
 which it presents itself. Surely you will 
 fully comprehend and acknowledge the 
 truth which has been taught by such mas- 
 ters. " Combien il est grand d'etre Chre- 
 tien, combien il est honteux et funeste de 
 l'£tre comme on Test dans le monde." 
 
 h6 
 
THE 
 
 Vivtxm of t#e <©rtr*r* 
 
 I have endeavoured to make you feel what 
 are the duties of your station in regard to 
 religion ; I shall now proceed to state what 
 are the obligations which it imposes upon 
 you to the practice of virtue. I trust that 
 you have been too well instructed in the 
 elements of religion, in the doctrines of our 
 holy and Apostolic Church, to misunder- 
 stand my meaning in the use of this term. 
 Indeed, the division which I have followed 
 would never have been adopted if I had not 
 presumed that you were acquainted with 
 the essential articles of the Christian faith. 
 Virtue, as independent of religion, and as 
 deriving its origin from mere human prin- 
 ciple, is an ideal phantom with which we 
 have nothing to do. Let us leave it to such 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 157 
 
 men as the apostate Julian, who sacrificed 
 the preserver of his life ; as the royal phi- 
 losopher of Prussia, who was the scourge 
 of his generation ; as Voltaire and Hume, 
 and the followers of their school, whose 
 principles led to the revolution of France. 
 I do not say to a reformation of govern- 
 ment, but to the enormities of the Revolu- 
 tion, to the plunder of property, to the 
 massacre of the clergy, to the demolition 
 of churches, and to the temporary over- 
 throw of the Cross. Let us turn aside 
 from such a spectacle, let us be content 
 with admiring the ancient virtue of those 
 unpretending characters who were the pride 
 and the ornament of their generation, who 
 ascribed their best actions to the grace of 
 God, and their principles of life to faith in 
 the Saviour That such was the language, 
 such the opinion and sentiments of the 
 great and the brave, whose character you 
 aspire to imitate, will be evident upon a 
 superficial review of what we have already 
 
 * The mottos of the nobility proclaim this ; thus 
 that of the Marquis of Thomond is 
 Vigueur de dessus. 
 
158 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 observed in the different histories which 
 record their renown. 
 
 But first it may be expedient that I 
 should direct your attention to that gene- 
 ral tone of feeling, to that habitual temper 
 and inclination of mind which are the pe- 
 culiar distinctions of this character, and 
 the highest privilege which you can inherit 
 by birth. All virtue proceeds from God, 
 and from the influence of his grace, and 
 that high honour the profession of which is 
 so often hypocritically assumed, but whose 
 reality is so dignified and divine, must be 
 considered not as a human and counter- 
 feit quality, but as a portion of that pure 
 and elevated spirit which descends from 
 heaven, to exalt and purify the human 
 heart. 
 
 When Charles V. desired the Marquis de 
 Villena to lend his house to the rebel Con- 
 stable de Bourbon, the reply of the Casti- 
 lian was, that he could not refuse gratify- 
 ing his sovereign in that request, but that 
 his majesty must not be surprised if, the 
 moment the Constable departed, he should 
 burn to the ground a house which, having 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 159 
 
 been polluted by the presence of a traitor, 
 became an unfit habitation for a man of 
 honour. It is easy to ridicule this reply, 
 and it would not be difficult to suppose 
 motives of pride and affectation as dictat- 
 ing the sentiment, but we shall gain nothing 
 to the cause of Christianity, or of Christian 
 virtue, in adopting the one or the other of 
 these views respecting it. Such ridicule 
 and such scrupulous anatomy of the mind 
 w T hich so expressed itself, have a direct 
 tendency to the debasement of our nature, 
 and to the rejection of the Gospel. " Ceux 
 qui aiment M. Fouquet," says M de de Se- 
 vigne, in her Letter to M. de Pompone, 
 ** trouvent cette tranquillite admirable, je 
 suis de ce nombre ; les autres disent que 
 c'est une affectation ; voila le monde." 
 Neither the Christian nor the gentleman 
 have any thing to do with such criticism 
 of human conduct, or with such judgment. 
 In both capacities we are bound to ascribe 
 the best and not the worst motives which 
 are assignable. The saint will hope and 
 believe all things ; the man of honour will 
 not suspect a virtue which is only similar 
 
ISO THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 to his own. Let us therefore take the re- 
 ply of the Spaniard, as intending to express 
 that spirit of truth and purity which are 
 incapable of being associated with deceit, 
 and which must be kept distinct even to 
 the outward sense and perception of man- 
 kind. There are however young men who 
 take a pleasure in the very reverse of all 
 this, who delight in raising suspicions as 
 to the reality of virtue, who are full of 
 scruples and diffidence, having a long 
 reach in detecting the projects of their ac- 
 quaintance, believing that no one has any 
 real affection but for himself. They may 
 be destined to gain future eminence or 
 riches, but I can seldom forbear to con- 
 sider them, says Dr. Johnson, " as villains 
 early completed beyond the need of com- 
 mon opportunities and gradual tempta- 
 tions !" To such I would relate the follow- 
 ing magnificent passage of history. Cril- 
 lon was surnamed " l'homme sans peur." 
 The young Duke of Guise, wishing to prove 
 whether he deserved the title, caused an 
 alarm to be sounded in Marseilles at break 
 of day, and rushing into the chamber 
 7 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 161 
 
 where Crillon lay, he awoke him, crying 
 out that the enemy had gained possession 
 of the fort and city, and that the only hope 
 was in instant flight. * Plutot mourir !" 
 cried Crillon, seizing his arms, " battons 
 nous tant qu'il nous restera une goutte de 
 sang dans les veines " They both rushed 
 out of the chamber, and descended the 
 staircase, but when about half-way, the 
 duke, with a laugh and at the same time 
 a faultering voice, informed Crillon that 
 the whole was but a jest to prove him. 
 " Jeune homme," said the man without 
 fear, but with a look of indignation which 
 struck the coward who had suspected him 
 to the heart, " ne te joue jamais a sonder 
 le cceur d'un homme de bien. Par la mort ! 
 si tu m'avois trouve foible, je t'aurois poig- 
 harde." 
 
 And here I am obliged to remark, that 
 this spirit of ridicule, the offspring of in- 
 fidel philosophy # , is a temper of mind 
 
 * " Neque enim ita generati a natura sumus ut ad lu- 
 diini et jocum facti esse videamur ; sed ad severitatem 
 potius et ad quaedam studia graviora atque majora." — 
 Gicero de Officiis. 
 
 \ 
 
162 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 against which you must be carefully pn 
 your guard. The most awful and sublime 
 truths are the most exposed to its influ- 
 ences, and were it to prevail, which God 
 forbid, there would be really nothing left 
 in the world to please the imagination, to 
 exalt the character, or to attract the heart. 
 There would be nothing in the world 
 worth living for ; and, as a great master of 
 reason has well observed, there would be 
 " never a virtue left to laugh out of coun- 
 tenance." 
 
 " These sentiments," says a celebrated 
 French lady, in one of her letters to a 
 young nobleman, (she wrote a few years 
 before the commencement of the Revolu- 
 tion, and her sentiments may be regarded as 
 those which arose and continued to prevail 
 in the higher circles, during the reign of 
 Louis XV.) ff These sentiments would 
 doubtless deserve great praise, if in fact 
 and in practice they could procure you the 
 happiness which you expect from them, 
 but experience proves that all these fine 
 words are only pure illusions. What do 
 you pretend to do, I beseech you, with 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 163 
 
 these chimeras of reason ? I say readily, 
 here is beautiful coin, it is a pity that 
 it cannot be passed in the world." " Man/' 
 says Madame de Stael, in a chapter of her 
 Germany, " has a great dominion over 
 man, and of all the evils which he can in- 
 flict upon his fellow-creatures, the greatest, 
 perhaps, is to place the phantom of ridi- 
 cule between generous feelings and the 
 actions which they could inspire. Love, 
 genius, talent, even grief, all these are ex- 
 posed to the power of irony, and it is im- 
 possible to calculate how far the dominion 
 of this irony may be extended. There is 
 something in vice which excites, there is 
 something weak in goodness. The admi- 
 ration of great objects may be laughed 
 away in jest, and he who thinks nothing of 
 importance, has the appearance of being 
 above every thing. If enthusiasm then 
 cloes not defend our heart and mind, they 
 will permit themselves to be taken on all 
 sides by this aversion to virtue which 
 unites indolence with gaiety." The sub- 
 ject is solemn, and therefore I will remind 
 you of what the Scripture has said, that the 
 
164 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 bands of mockers shall be made strong. 
 Remember also, that peculiar character 
 which distinguished the men from whom 
 your order derives its origin, whom Taci- 
 tus describes in these memorable words. 
 " Nemo enim illic vitia ridet ; nec corrufri- 
 pere et corrumpi sseculum vocatur/' In 
 fact the temper of mind essential to the true 
 gentleman is the very subject which is 
 most exposed to this ridicule ; for I must 
 exhort you to remember that it is the duty 
 of your order not to follow the custom and 
 principles of the world, and of the age, but 
 to display an example for the world and for 
 the age to imitate. It is not from the or- 
 dinary and vulgar maxims of mankind, not 
 even from the received and perhaps ap- 
 proved practice and custom of a profession 
 that you must seek for direction in senti- 
 ment and action, but it is from the elevated 
 principles of Christianity and of honour. 
 
 Disce, puer, virtutem ex me, verumque laborem $ 
 Fortunam ex aliis. 
 
 It may be that you will find but few per- 
 sons willing to reward, or even able to 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 165 
 
 appreciate your best qualities. Nothing is 
 more possible. " II faut s'attendre a tout 
 de la part des hommes," says the great 
 Sully, " lis ne tiennent pour la plupart a 
 leurs devoirs a la societe, a la parente, que 
 par leurs esperances et leurs succes, non 
 par les bienfaites, la bonne foi et la vertu." 
 Those who display a higher character will 
 be accused perhaps of hypocrisy, of mys- 
 ticism, or folly. Montagne declares that 
 his virtues which he terms his qualities 
 that are not reprehensible, were useless in 
 his generation. My facility of manner 
 they term fawning dissimulation and weak- 
 ness ; faith and conscience, are overscru- 
 pulous and superstitious ; frankness and 
 liberty of deportment are troublesome, in- 
 considerate and insolent, yet did he not 
 therefore abandon the character which he 
 had formed to himself, nor fear to lift up 
 his voice against what he conceived worthy 
 of his sovereign contempt and hatred, 
 though it were vested with all the credit of 
 public opinion. Hence it will follow that 
 the apparent utility of a measure can never 
 excuse gentlemen who make use, in any 
 
166 *HE BROAD STONE Otf HONOtJfl. 
 
 cause, however admirable, of the vices and 
 instruments of the vulgar. It is a mourn- 
 ful indication of degeneracy when no mark 
 of degradation is visited upon the gentle- 
 man who differs from the churl only in 
 the cause which he embraces, and not in 
 the measures which he pursues to advance 
 it. Ov ro TToisiv roc, a$i)ta. dXkoc. to irocayjciv 
 <po£«//.svov # . When both use the same in- 
 exact and vulgar language, both are equally 
 mean in their suspicions, violent and care- 
 less in their censure, personal in their cri- 
 ticism, unmanly in their attacks upon pri- 
 vate character, coarse and daring in their 
 outrage to delicacy of sentiment, ignorant 
 and overbearing in their religious preju- 
 dices, insolent and audacious in their 
 treatment of superiors who may justly or 
 unjustly offend them, when with both, 
 u Maledicus pro libero, temerarius pro forti 
 accipitur When both, like the Thebans, 
 despise every opinion but their own J, 
 avoiding crime not from disdaining it, but 
 
 * Plato de Repub. 1. f Quintil. 
 
 J Ovde (pu)VT]v rjKisov, el rig dWo ti /SbXoito Xeyeiv, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 167 
 
 from fearing its result # , relinquishing the 
 labour of patient investigation, and resting 
 in the first and most ready conclusion 
 " It is an advantage/' says Burke, u to all 
 narrow wisdom and narrow morals, that 
 their maxims have a plausible air, and on 
 a cursory view appear equal to first prin- 
 ciples. They are as light and portable ; 
 they are as current as copper coin, and 
 about as valuable. They serve equally the 
 first capacities and the lowest, and they 
 are at least as useful to the worst men as 
 to the best." That these are the maxims of 
 the vulgar class of mankind is no new dis- 
 covery, but that they should be proposed 
 for adoption to the gentlemen of England J, 
 
 * Oiff airexsGOai rwv (pavXcjv 8ia to aiGXP 0V > dXka 
 $ia rag Tifxwpiag. — Aristot. Ethics, x. 
 
 f Kctl 87TL TCt STOlfJLa fJLdWoV TpS7T0VTaL. — Thucyd. 
 
 f There must, perhaps, in this age be writings for 
 the vulgar, for those whom Montagne calls, " les ames 
 boiteuses," answerable in exercise of the mind to 
 cripples in trials of bodily exertion, and who neverthe- 
 less all lame and crippled as they are affect to teach 
 other men to walk, but then if these writings must 
 appear, let them, whatever may be the cause they pre- 
 tend to advocate, be consigned to their proper station 
 in the ale-houses and night-cellars of the metropolis. 
 
168 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and that in some cases they should actually 
 be adopted for use and service, is an event 
 which unhappily and fearfully demonstrates 
 the degeneracy of those upon whom the 
 virtue and the happiness of society is in a 
 great measure depending. 
 
 The sentence of King John of France is 
 for ever memorable, that " if justice and 
 good faith should be banished from the 
 rest of the world, they must be still found 
 on the lips and in the heart of kings." And 
 this maxim must be adopted for your use, 
 and made applicable to your guidance. If 
 the sentiments of high honour, if an unut- 
 terable reverence for religion, a devotion 
 to truth and justice, fidelity and gratitude 
 to God ; if these qualities should be un- 
 known and incomprehensible to the vulgar 
 class of mankind, as they will for ever be, 
 if they should be alternately suspected and 
 condemned, neglected and ridiculed by the 
 world in general, in public as well as in 
 private society, in Parliament # , or even in 
 
 * The friends of religion and humanity have shud~ 
 dered at the sacrilegious enormities of the French mob, 
 but is the feeling of horror excited by such outrages 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 169 
 
 the retired seats of science and of learning, 
 still will it be for you to cherish and dis- 
 play them, to afford them shelter and en- 
 couragement. And let not my meaning be 
 misunderstood when I speak of sentiment 
 and feeling as essential to form an elevated 
 character, as the proudest privilege of your 
 inheritance. Let no man be encouraged 
 by this to deceive himself, by assuming 
 the profession without the reality of virtue. 
 It is not the sentiment and feeling of Nero, 
 who used to say, in signing death-warrants, 
 " vellem nescire literas." It is not the 
 hypocrisy of the tyrant Periander, who in- 
 culcated the maxim, that the best guard 
 
 to human sentiment increased by reflecting on the 
 baseness of the perpetrators ! I think not, but rather 
 the reverse. If an English mob should ever again be 
 infected with the rage of profanation, I do not know 
 how they can exceed the examples of sacrilege set be- 
 fore them by men in authority. A bridewell erected 
 over the ashes of Alfred, an iron manufactury where 
 stood the Abbey of Tintern - y Westminster Abbey and 
 the tombs of our kings converted into a museum of 
 monuments ! We need look no farther. It is impos- 
 sible to outrage more completely the more delicate ties, 
 albeit unfelt by men of gross and popular capacities, 
 which bind us to our religion and to our country. 
 I 
 
170 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 for a king is the affection of his subjects. 
 It is not the sensibility of Csesar, who was 
 shocked at the cruelty of Critognatus, in 
 exhorting his comrades never to yield, 
 while he forgot that it was his own injus- 
 tice which placed them in that condition. 
 It is not the piety of Louis XIV. who loved 
 to hear Bourdaloue, while his generals were 
 visiting the Palatinate with fire and sword. 
 It is not the philosophic cant of Frederic 
 the Great, who says, in allusion to the 
 earthquake at Lisbon, 'f how dreadful it is 
 that men, not content with the ravages of 
 nature, for the sake of a worthless heap of 
 rubbish, will fight and spill one another's 
 blood," forgetting to apply this reflection 
 to himself, while he was the scourge of 
 Germany. It is not the sentiment and 
 feeling of Voltaire at the court of this 
 same prince, of whom Condorcet relates, 
 " en louant ses exploits, en caressant sa. 
 gloire militaire, il lui prechait toujours 
 l'humanite et la paix." *i Quid verba au- 
 diam," you may well exclaim when such 
 sentiment is commended, " cum facta vi- 
 deam?" But the sentiment and feelings 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 171 
 
 of which I speak are those which operate 
 without ostentation to soften the heart, to 
 elevate the thoughts, and to raise the soul 
 above the world ; it is that inspiration from 
 on high which makes men of piety and 
 virtue, of genius and of honour. It is not 
 the vanity of seeming to be good, but it is 
 the desire to be good, like that of the man 
 whom Plato commends, avfy-z ivKow xai 
 yevvaiov, a <$okeiv <zKk* that aya&ov ebsKovra, *. 
 Madame de Sevigne relates a circumstance, 
 which admirably displays the great cha- 
 racter of Turenne. " Depuis la mort du 
 heros de la guerre celui du breviare (mean- 
 ing the Cardinal du Retz (s'est retire a 
 commerci ;) il n'y avoit plus de surete a 
 Saint Michel. Le Premier President de 
 la Cour des Aides a une terre en Cham- 
 pagne ; son fermier vint hti signifier Tautre 
 jour, ou de la rabaisser considerablement, 
 on de rompre le bail qui en fut fait il y a 
 deux ans ; ou lui demande pourquoi ou dit 
 que ce n'est point la coutume ; il repond 
 que, du terns de M. de Turenne, on pou- 
 voit recueillir avec surete, et compter sur 
 
 * De Repub. lib. ii. 
 
 12 
 
172 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 les terres de ce pays-la ; mais que depuis 
 sa mort, tout le monde quittoit, croyant 
 que les ennemis vont entrer en champagne. 
 Voila des choses simples et naturelles qui 
 font son eloge aussi magnifiquement que 
 les Flechier et les Mascaron." Evidence 
 of a similar description is that testimony 
 to the merit of the Earl of Foix, which Sir 
 John Froissart adduces in concluding his 
 character : " Surely it is grete domage," 
 he observes, " that suche a persone sholde 
 be olde or dye." He had his faults, " and 
 yet for all that his people alwayes prayde 
 to God for his longe lyfe : and I herde it 
 reported, howe when he dyed there were 
 in Foyze and in Byerne XM persones that 
 sayd that they wolde gladly have dyed 
 with hym, whereby it is to be thought that 
 they sayd not so without it had been for 
 grete love that they had to their lorde ; and 
 surely if they loved hym, they dyd but 
 ryght and accordynge to reason, for he 
 alwayes maynteyned them in theyr ryght 
 and kepte ever true justyce, for all his 
 landes and the people therein had as grete 
 lyberte and fraunchesse, and lyved in as 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 173 
 
 good peas as though they had ben in pa- 
 radyse terrestre. I say not this for flattery 
 nor for favour, nor love that I bere hym, 
 nor for the gyftes that he hath gyven me ; 
 but I can well prove all that I have sayd 
 for I am sure there be a M knyghts and 
 squyers wyll saye the same." Thus it is 
 that sentiment is to be displayed in ac- 
 tion, and that nobility and virtue are to 
 be proclaimed by facts against which there 
 can be no dispute. These are the grandest 
 monuments of great men, as Xenophon 
 declared to the Greeks when he reminded 
 them of the heroes of Marathon and Sala- 
 mis, saying in conclusion, <Z>v zcn ^sv rea> 
 
 sXevSegiot rcov ttoXscov, Iv atU u(aei$ syevsaQs xoti 
 zTpa(pY>rs* But we must not lose sight of 
 our subject, — the general spirit and dispo- 
 sition of the chivalrous character as op- 
 posed in many instances to those introduced 
 by our modern system of civilization. 
 
 " Formerly/' says Montesquieu, M the 
 power of virtue was regarded as the stabi- 
 lity of nations, but now we hear of nothing 
 but manufactures and commerce, finance, 
 i 3 
 
174 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 riches, and even luxury. There is a trade 
 of human actions and of all moral virtues ; 
 the smallest matters, those required by hu- 
 manity, are only to be procured by money " 
 And here an allusion will necessarily sug- 
 gest itself to the immortal production of 
 Cervantes, which seems at first to rise up 
 in awful array against whoever shall dare 
 to maintain the virtue of the chivalrous 
 character. No man will be so hardy or so 
 insensible as to deny the genius and the 
 inimitable humour evinced by the author 
 of Don Quixote, but with respect to the 
 moral tendency of that work as affecting 
 the ordinary class of mankind, in this or 
 in any age, there will arise quite a legi- 
 timate subject for discussion. Many are 
 the men of reflection who think with me 
 that it is a book never to be read without 
 receiving melancholy impressions, without 
 feelings of deep commiseration for the 
 weakness and for the lot of human nature. 
 What is the character of the hero in this 
 history ? It is that of a man possessing 
 genius, virtue, imagination and sensibility, 
 all the generous qualities which distinguish 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 175 
 
 an elevated soul, with all the amiable fea- 
 tures of a distinterested and affectionate 
 heart. Brave, equal to all that history has 
 recorded of the most valiant warriors — 
 loyal and faithful, never hesitating on the 
 fulfilment of his promise — disinterested as 
 he is brave, he contends but for virtue and 
 for glory ; if he desires to win kingdoms it 
 is only to bestow them upon Sancho Panza 
 —a faithful lover — a humane and generous 
 warrior — a kind and affectionate master — a 
 gallant and accomplished gentleman — and 
 this is the man whom Cervantes has repre- 
 sented as the subject of constant ridicule 
 and of occasional reproach. Without doubt 
 there is an important lesson to be derived 
 from the whole, the lesson which teaches 
 the necessity of prudence and good sense, 
 of moderation and respect for the institu- 
 tions of society, of guarding the imagina- 
 tion from excess of exercise, and the feel- 
 ings from an over excitement. But this 
 is a lesson to be gently hinted to men of 
 virtue, not to be proclaimed to the profane 
 amidst the mockery of the world. This is 
 not the lesson which the ordinary class of 
 i 4 
 
176 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 mankind will derive from it ; and if it were, 
 this is not the lesson of which it stands in 
 need. Sismondi has indeed pronounced in 
 favour of the moral tendency of the whole, 
 but not to reject his authority from the 
 general character of his principles, while 
 he acknowledges that the moral of the book 
 is profoundly sad, we can never agree to 
 the justice of his conclusion. Certainly it 
 will require no prejudiced eye in favour of 
 chivalry, to discern what may be read by 
 him who runs, that the faults of the present 
 age are not on the side which incurs the 
 reproach and ridicule of Cervantes. There 
 is no danger in this enlightened age, as it 
 is termed, of men becoming too heroic, too 
 generous, too zealous in the defence of in- 
 nocence, too violent in hatred of baseness 
 and crime, too disinterested and too active 
 in the cause of virtue and truth ; the dan- 
 ger is quite on the other side : there is 
 much to be apprehended from the ridicule 
 which is cast upon sentiment, from the im- 
 portance which attaches to personal con- 
 venience, from substituting laws for virtue, 
 and prudence for devotion, from the calcu- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 17? 
 
 lating spirit of the commercial system, from 
 the epicurean principles of enjoyment 
 which are proclaimed by the modern phi- 
 losophists. Cervantes exposed the knight 
 errant to the ridicule of the world, but did 
 he stop when he had done this? Moliere 
 held up the hypocrite to the contempt and 
 abhorrence of mankind, but did his shaft 
 reach no farther? The pleasantry of Cer- 
 vantes upon his death-bed, and the effect 
 which follows the representation of Tar- 
 tuffe at the present day foreseen and de- 
 precated by Fenelon, may well inspire the 
 lover of virtue and of mankind with a dis- 
 trust for all champions who employ ridi- 
 cule against subjects which appear, though 
 it were only in the eyes of the vulgar, to 
 have any connection with virtue. Cervan- 
 tes in exposing what he conceived to be 
 the danger and absurdity of chivalrous sen- 
 timent, held up to mockery not alone the 
 excess and the abuse, but the very reality 
 of virtue. It would be in vain to dispute 
 as to his real object with the reader of his 
 Persiles and Sigismonde, where falsehood 
 and treachery, and dissimulation are repre- 
 i 5 
 
178 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sented, not for censure, hut, strange to 
 conceive, for admiration ; where virtue is 
 identified with success, and where personal 
 interest is made at once the motive and 
 the justification of every crime. Upon the 
 whole, therefore, the lover of chivalry may 
 be permitted to remind the critic who eulo- 
 gises the object of Cervantes, that the cha- 
 racter of this writer is not calculated to 
 add weight to his censure, and that by the 
 confession extorted from him in the course 
 of criticism, the literature of Spain from 
 which has issued this most formidable 
 attack that was ever made upon the chi- 
 valrous character, is the same literature 
 which is distinguished from that of all the 
 Germanic nations by a spirit of dissimula- 
 tion and treachery, selfishness, and im- 
 piety, and by an open disavowal of the 
 common principles of truth and virtue, 
 <f The spirit of chivalry," says Segur, " born 
 in the midst of disorder, after triumphing 
 over the ferocity of the northern barba- 
 rians, could but faintly contend in a more 
 tranquil period against a general corruption 
 of manners. The men became vicious, the 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 17$ 
 
 women were degraded* It was in vain that 
 some memory of ancient principles pre- 
 sented itself between passions and those 
 over whom they tyrannized ; it was in vain 
 that some remnant of virtue opposed a bar- 
 rier to the progress of vice : there was too 
 much reason for mutual reproach. In need 
 of each other, the two sexes forgave their 
 mutual weakness, shut their eyes to mu- 
 tual wrongs ; a veil was spread over vice ; 
 and from that hour, there was no more re- 
 straint. The fine institution of chivalry 
 lost its empire ; and at length, the romance 
 of Don Quixote by its success and its 
 philosophy concealed under an attractive 
 fiction, completed the ruin by fixing ridi- 
 cule even upon its memory 
 
 Madame de Stael, in the same work to 
 which I have already referred you, has 
 written a chapter upon the morality which 
 is founded on utility and personal interest. 
 It should, by all means, be read. It can- 
 not be expected that I should apply these 
 sheets to the discussion of a metaphysical 
 question, which seems to be concerned 
 either with mere words, (if we can even 
 i 6 
 
180 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR.' 
 
 admit the possibility of this alternative,) 
 or else with denying one of the highest 
 attributes which belongs to our nature. 
 Whatever effort, says Madame de Stael, 
 a man of extraordinary ability may exert, 
 to extend the score of utility, " il ne 
 pourra jamais faire que ce mot soit syno- 
 nyme de celui de devoument." In the year 
 1592, Sully thus describes the movement 
 of his own mind, during that important 
 crisis of public affairs. " J'envisgeai la 
 pesanteur du fardeau dont je me sentis 
 charger, et je tremblai au milieu de ma joie 
 que ma foiblesse et mon incapacite n'al- 
 lassent m'engager dans quelque fausse de- 
 marche qui nuisit non pas a moi, (je crois 
 que dans ces occasions c'est a soi que Ton 
 pense le moins,) mais au prince qui se re- 
 posoit sur moi/' I would propose this 
 passage as the only proper answer to those 
 that deny the possibility of forgetting our 
 own interest in devotion to the cause of 
 others. If this should not put them to 
 silence, they may be reminded of Lord 
 Bacon's words, which treat the question 
 with the contempt that it deserves. u It 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 181 
 
 is a poor centre of a man's actions, him- 
 self | it is right earth, for that only stands 
 fast upon its own centre ; whereas all 
 things that have affinity with the heavens, 
 move upon the centre of another which they 
 benefit." But we cannot too quickly 
 abandon all enquiries and mysteries of this 
 nature, when there is certainly no know- 
 ledge to be gained that can enlarge the 
 understanding, or improve the heart. 
 
 As a summary statement, I would also 
 refer you to that chapter in the same book 
 which treats of the morality founded upon 
 national interest, in which statesmen may 
 learn, to their surprise, perhaps, that their 
 duty as Christians, and their interest as 
 statesmen, in transacting the affairs of 
 their country, are inseparably united, that 
 the true and the only policy is the policy 
 of virtue. But were it otherwise u non 
 potest esse dubium, quid faciendum nobis 
 sit." The Christian religion acknowledges 
 but one rule of action for all situations, 
 not many rules for different. All these 
 maxims, such as that of Richelieu, " Les 
 
182 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Chretiens doivent oublier les offenses mais 
 les ministres doivent punir," or that as- 
 cribed to the Chancellor Seguir under 
 Mazarin, '* qu'il y avoit deux sortes de 
 consciences : Fune d'etat, qu'il falloit ac- 
 commoder a la necessite des affaires, 
 Pautre a nos actions particulieres," a 
 maxim which was pressed upon Charles I. 
 by the Archbishop of York, who persuaded 
 him to sacrifice the Earl of Strafford, or 
 that framed by Louis XI. of France, " qui 
 nescit dissimulare nescit regnare # ," or that 
 
 * When Brantome relates this maxim of Louis XI. 
 he observes that it is sinful " ainsi que j'onys une fois 
 prescher a un grand Predicateur, Docteur de Sor- 
 bonne, nomme, Monsieur Poucet qui preschoit a la 
 Paroisse S. Sulpice a S. Germain des prez, qui dit 
 tout haut sur un sujet que je ne diray pas, que telles 
 paroles estoient d'un vray Atheiste et qui ouvroit le 
 chemin aux Roys et aux Princes pour aller a tous les 
 Diables, et les rendre vrais Tyrans. Possible qui en 
 voudra bien pesser les raisons, il trouvera ce Pres- 
 cheur tres veritable, et fort homme de bien selon nostre 
 feon seigneur Jesus Christ, qui hayt mortellement les 
 hypocrites, les quelles on peut nommer proprement 
 Traistres dissimulez, disoit ce bon Prescheur. C'estoit 
 le Prescheur autant hardy a parler que jamais a entre 
 en chaise," &c. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 183 
 
 which was practised by the companions of 
 Ulysses in Sicily. 
 
 'Of Sf, ECUS fAEV fflTOV £%0V KOU OiVOV £pU§£0V 
 
 Totyqa, Bocyv aTrsy^ovro, XtXato/xevoi Bioroio* 
 
 All these, and a thousand others, are 
 nothing but the devices of wicked men, 
 deceiving and being deceived, which may 
 be briefly stated in that line of monstrous 
 impiety : 
 
 " Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movebo." 
 
 And here let me put you on your guard 
 against the sophistry of the modern writers 
 who dare to tamper with those decrees of 
 wisdom which secure happiness and dig- 
 nity to the female sex. The men who have 
 set themselves in array against religion, and 
 the principles of chivalry, have almost in- 
 variably called in the senses to their aid, 
 and the base passions of the human heart* 
 to effect by treachery what they could not 
 otherwise accomplish. Without doubt, in 
 this they have done wisely. It is the pre- 
 cept of our blessed Saviour that we should 
 learn wisdom from them, and hence we 
 
184 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 may conclude the propriety of calling in 
 the high and generous feelings of the soul 
 to aid revelation. Mr. Gibbon has said, 
 " that certain laws of Constantine were 
 dictated with very little indulgence for the 
 most amiable weaknesses of human nature, 
 since the description of the crime was ap- 
 plied not only to the brutal violence which 
 compelled, but even to the gentle seduc- 
 tion which might persuade." Now mark 
 how different is the opinion recorded by 
 the great Xenophon, xai (aw on ys ov Bia^s- 
 rai, dKka. TreiQsi, $ia. tuto /ooaXXov (jligwtbov. h 
 ptev yag Bia£optEvo£, lavrov Trovyjgov dTro^siKvvsi* 
 
 (pegei. Conviv. 
 
 Let no man be so mistaken as to sup- 
 pose that there is any connection between 
 habits of licentious enjoyment, and what 
 is generous, spirited, or amiable in the 
 human character. On the contrary, habits 
 of this kind tend more than any other de- 
 rangement of the moral government, to 
 blunt the feelings, to harden the heart, 
 and to destroy the imagination. u Nullum 
 denique scelus," says Cicero, " nullum 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 185 
 
 malum facinus esse, ad quod suscipiendum 
 non libido voluptatis impelleret, neque 
 omnino in voluptatis regno virtutem posse 
 consistere # ." 
 
 Finally, and as an additional testimony 
 to the truth of these opinions I will present 
 you with a passage which M de de Stael 
 has selected from a work of the celebrated 
 Schlegel. " Europe was united in one during 
 these grand ages, and the soil of this general 
 country was fruitful in generous thoughts, 
 which served to guide both in life and death. 
 One common chivalry converted adversaries 
 into brethren in arms, and it was to defend 
 one common faith that they were armed. 
 Love inspired every heart, and the poetry 
 which sung this alliance expressed the same 
 sentiment in different languages. Alas ! the 
 noble energy of the ancient time is lost. 
 Our age is the inventor of a narrow policy, 
 and what weak men are unable to conceive, 
 is in their eyes only a chimera. Nothing 
 that is divine can succeed when it is un- 
 
 * Let every young man read Anquetil's description 
 of the death of the Duchess de Fontanges one of the 
 last victims to Louis XIV. 
 
186 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 dertaken with a profane heart. Alas ! our 
 age has knowledge of neither faith nor 
 love, how could it have preserved hope ?" 
 
 " This know also," says the Apostle, 
 " that in the last day, perilous times shall 
 come 5 for men shall be lovers of their own 
 selves." That these times were accom- 
 plished, in the days of chivalry, it is im- 
 possible to suppose 5 but a new age has 
 arisen^ and new principles are said to be 
 necessary. The ancient orders of Chris- 
 tendom are superseded by clubs and asso- 
 ciations, whereby men can enjoy some of 
 the pleasures of society without fulfilling 
 the duties attached to social life, and may 
 escape the burden of personal obligation 
 without forfeiting their rights and honour. 
 That love which was the soul of chivalry, 
 that devoted affection of the youthful 
 heart, in conformity with nature's law, 
 which expelled every selfish thought and 
 wish, and refined and developed every ge- 
 nerous virtue, is exposed to the counteract- 
 ing influence of the new philosophy, which 
 teaches the young that there may be plea- 
 sure without love, and that the vacuity of 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 187 
 
 their heart may be supplied without the 
 exercise of virtue, without being devoted 
 and faithful # , disinterested and sincere ; 
 
 * The example of the Dame des belles Cousines, 
 was, it must be confessed, less edifying than her in- 
 struction, yet those lessons which she gave to the 
 3 r oung page were entirely conformable to the opinions — 
 and even to the practice of the time. The complaint 
 of Sir Thomas Maleore, at the end of the 18th book 
 of the Morte d' Arthur, was certainly less generally 
 applicable at the time when he wrote, than it would 
 be in a subsequent age. " Lyke as wynter rasure doth 
 alway arase and deface grene somer, soo fareth it by 
 unstable love in man and woman ; for in many persons 
 there is no stabylyte. For we may see al day for a 
 Jytel blast of wynter's rasure, anone we shall deface 
 and lay apart true love, for lytel or nooghte that cost 
 moch thynge. This is no wysdome, nor stabylyte, but 
 it is feebleness of nature and grete disworshyp who- 
 somever useth this. Therfore lyke as May moneth 
 floreth and floryssheth in many gardyns, soo in lyke 
 wyse lete every man of worship florysshe his herte in 
 this world, fyrst unto God, and next unto the joye of 
 them that he promysed his fey the unto." The cha- 
 racter of Sir Launcelot affords a striking example of 
 this virtue : " 1 Wei, sayd the Queues (who desired 
 their prisoner to chuse one for his love) is this your 
 answer that ye wylle reffuse us 6 ye on my lyf, 1 sayd 
 Syr Launcelot, 6 reffused ye ben of me. I wylle 
 
188 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 which places avarice and ambition (for the 
 consideration of wealth is avarice, and the 
 love of rank and high connection is ambi- 
 tion,) in the innermost sanctuary of the 
 human heart, and thus defiles, in its noblest 
 feature, the image of the Almighty, which 
 leads its disciples to regard all duty and 
 obligation, " which grey-beards call di- 
 vine," as matters in which he has no con- 
 cern, and to say to his selfish heart, like 
 Richard, 
 
 " I am myself alone 
 
 The convenience and profit of individuals, 
 not the everlasting distinctions of right 
 and wrong are consulted and regarded as 
 the only public good ; riches and presump- 
 tion overpower the opposite scale of virtue 
 and modesty. In a word, the principles 
 and thoughts of men have changed with 
 their political situation. What was once 
 
 none of yow; and as for my Lady Dame Gueneuer, 
 were I at my lyberte as I was, I wolde preve hit on 
 yow or on yours, that she is the truest Lady unto her 
 Lord lyvyng.' H 
 * Hen. VI. Part III. Act v. Scene 6. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 189 
 
 honourable is now said to be obsolete and 
 worthless, imaginary and ridiculous ; what 
 was once baseness and crime is now pru- 
 dence and moderation, and philosophy. 
 The question will therefore again present 
 itself to every lover of his species, to every 
 thoughtful observer who casts a philosophic 
 eye upon the character and transactions 
 and interests of mankind, and to him it 
 will indeed be a subject of serious enquiry 
 how far this new direction which has been 
 given to the movement of the human heart, 
 how far the principles and temper which 
 now influence the actions of men may fulfil 
 the prediction of Holy Scripture. 
 
 I shall make a selection from the books 
 which are before me, for the purpose of 
 pointing out to you somewhat more in de- 
 tail the peculiar virtues which distinguished 
 the spirit of the chivalrous age. And first 
 we have to remark their trust in divine aid. 
 
 M There is no Knyght lyvinge now, that 
 ought to kenne God- soo grete thanke as 
 ye/' said the friend of Sir Launcelot, " for 
 he hath geven yow beaute, semelynes, and 
 grete strengthe above all other Knyghtes, 
 
190 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and therfor ye are the more beholdyng 
 unto God than any other man to love hym 
 and drede hym, for your strength and man- 
 hode wille lytel avaylle yow, and God be 
 ageynste yow." Thenne Sir Launcelot sayd, 
 " Now I knowe wel ye saye me sothe," and 
 his usual cry was, " Jhesu, be thou my 
 sheld and myn armour." And Froissart 
 relates of the English after the battle of 
 Cressy, " this night they thanked God for 
 their good adventure, and made no boast 
 therof ; for the kynge wolde that no man 
 shulde be proude, or make boost, but every 
 man humbly to thanke God." And the 
 brave knight who writes the history, re- 
 marks upon the delivery of Ghent, " that it 
 was by the grace of God, but that the cap- 
 tains were so proude therof that God was 
 displeased with theym, and that was well 
 sene ere the yere passed as ye shall her 
 after in this storie, to gyve ensample to all 
 people." The same lesson is inculcated in 
 that beautiful romance of Sir Isambras, 
 which is familiar to the reader of Ellis's 
 specimens of early English metrical ro- 
 mances. Were it not for the too sarcastic 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 191 
 
 vein which pervades the narrative given 
 by this amusing writer, these volumes would 
 be read with unmixed pleasure, but what 
 mind can submit to have these objects 
 ridiculed which are at the same time to 
 excite its interest ? This is surely to trifle 
 with a reader's good nature. The Earl of 
 Foix had a custom of celebrating the feast 
 of St. Nicholas with great solemnity, upon 
 which occasion, the Earl used to " de- 
 parte all afote fro his castell, and go with 
 the clergy in processyon to the churche, 
 where they sange a psalme of the psalter, 
 ' Benedictus dominus deus meus, qui docet 
 manus meas ad prselium, et digitos meos 
 ad bellum.' " An interesting emblem of 
 this reliance was displayed in the coat ar- 
 mour of the High and Mighty Prince Duke 
 Albertus de Alasco of Polanda, which bore 
 the hull of a ship having only a main-mast 
 and a top without any tackling, with the 
 motto " Deus dabit vela," shewing that 
 heavenly guidance is that whereby worldly 
 affairs are governed ; and Andrew Doria, 
 who was admiral to Charles V. bore a ship 
 with masts and canvass under full sail, 
 
192 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 with the motto " non dormit qui custodit ; v 
 and we read on the medals struck by Queen 
 Elizabeth on the defeat of the Armada, 
 " Afflavit Deus et dissipantur." 
 
 But a belief in the superintendance of 
 Providence, accompanied by a trust in 
 divine protection, has been characteristic 
 of the hero in all ages. What sentence of 
 antiquity is more memorable than this in 
 the Iliad, 
 
 "Orn fiaX a drjvaiog, og aOavaTouri 
 
 Ovde ti fxiv 7raideg ttoti y&vaai TrainraZiiaiv, 
 
 UXOovT ek TToXe^ioio KCIL CllVtlQ SrjWTTfTOg. 
 
 Thus again Achilles says to iEneas, 
 
 Zevg d* apsTrjv avdpecrtnv 6(j)t\\ti rs , [uvvQei re, 
 "07T7ra>£ ksv eQekrjaiv* 6 yap KapTiaog airavruv. 
 
 And Hector expresses it more forcibly in 
 these affecting words, 
 
 Olda $*, on (tv jxsv kaQ\og f «yw $s creQev 7ro\v xtiph>v. 
 'AXX* r\Toi fiev ravra Sewv ev y&vacri ksitcii, 
 'Auc ere %£ipor£po£ 7rep iwv euro Svfiov hXo)fjLai 
 Asp* pa\u)v* 
 
 S le Palaye, in relating the various cere- 
 monies which took place at the famous 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 193 
 
 banquet of the Duke of Burgundy, presents 
 us with the list of the twelve virtues which 
 were there represented as the necessary 
 companions to the true knight # . These 
 
 * Le Breviaire des nobles par Maistre Alain Chartier 
 will prove the high expectations which were enter- 
 tained of all gentlemen who were bound to display 
 << foy, loyaut6, honneur, droicture, provesse, amour, 
 courtoisie, diligence, nettete, largesse, sobriete, per- 
 severance and the description of the knight in 
 Chaucer's prologue to the Canterbury Tales may be 
 produced, as upon the whole a favourable specimen of 
 their real character. 
 " A Knight there was, and that a worthy man, 
 That fro the time that he first began 
 To riden out, hee loved chevalrie, 
 Trouth, honour, freedome, and courtesie : 
 Full worthy was he in his Lord's warre, 
 And thereto had he ridden no man so farre, 
 As well in Christendome as in heathenesse, 
 And ever had honour for his worthenesse. 
 At Alisaundre he was when it was won, 
 Full often time he had the bourd begon ; 
 Aboven all nations in Pruce : 
 In Lettowe had he ridden, and in Luce 
 No Christen man so oft of his degree : 
 In Carnade at the siege had he be, 
 At Algezer, and ridden in Belmarie, 
 At Leyes was he, and also at Satalie : 
 When they were wonne, and in the great sea, 
 At many a noble armie had he be ; 
 
 K 
 
194 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 were faith, charity, justice, good sense, pru- 
 dence, temperance, firmness, truth, libera- 
 lity, diligence, hope, and valour # . And 
 
 At mortall battailes had he been fifteen, 
 And foughten for our faith at Tramissene. 
 In listes thries, and aye slaine his fo ; 
 This ilke worthy Knight had been also 
 Sometime with the lord of Palathie, 
 Agenst another Heathen in Turkie : 
 And evermore he had a soueraigne prise, 
 And though he was worthie he was wise ; 
 And of his sport as meeke as is a maid, 
 He never yet no villanie ne said 
 In all his life, unto no manner wight ; 
 He was a very perfite gentill Knight*" 
 
 In the Pieces justificatives at the end of the two first 
 volume of Michaud's History of the Crusades, the 
 reader will find extracts from various travels to the 
 Holy Land, which will convince him, that those of 
 Chaucer's knight were by no means extaordinary for a 
 gentleman of noble family. The itinerary from Bour- 
 deaux to Jerusalem will be read with interest, and, 
 indeed, on every account, these collections are highly 
 curious. 
 
 * The mottoes of the old families will be found to 
 proclaim these virtues as their inheritance. The house 
 of Willoughby has — Verite sans peur. 
 
 Of Napier, — Sans tache — ready, aye ready ! 
 
 Of Howard, — Sola virtus invicta. 
 Others are of a similar kind. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 195 
 
 the same writer confesses that the laws of 
 chivalry breathed nothing but religion, 
 virtue, honour, and humanity. He quotes 
 Jouvencel, who speaks of sobriety, purity, 
 and the other virtues which are essential 
 to the profession of arms, and of the vices 
 which are contrary to it, such as swearing 
 cruelty and avarice, perjury, pride, impu- 
 rity, indolence, anger, gluttony, drunken- 
 ness, and these he observes, " doivent etre 
 en horreur au chevalier/' that he must ab- 
 stain in like manner " de toute parole vi- 
 laine ou injurieuse # ." " I have lived," 
 says Joinville, speaking of Saint Louis, 
 " twenty-two years in his company, and 
 never during that time have I heard him 
 swear or blaspheme God, or the virgin, or 
 any saint, whatever might have been his 
 passion or provocation. When he wished 
 to affirm any thing, he used to say " truly 
 
 * These may seem strange precepts to propose to 
 the gentlemen of the present day, yet experience 
 proves how necessary it still is to have them in re- 
 membrance. Even in the House of Peers we have 
 heard words which no gentleman would utter, and di- 
 rected against the only person who could be insulted 
 with impunitv. 
 
 K 2 
 
196 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 it is so, or truly it is not so." The remark 
 which Joinville adds, on this occasion, is 
 curious, as it proves the antiquity of the 
 custom which is the disgrace of French 
 conversation to this day. " Et est une 
 tres honteuse chose au royaume de France 
 de celui cas, et aux Princes de le souffrir 
 ne oyr nommer, car vous verrez que Fun 
 ne dira pas trois motz a l'autre par mal, 
 qu'il ne die : va de par le diable, ou en 
 autres langaiges." Nor was it sufficient if 
 the knights exercised these virtues them- 
 selves, without attending to influence their 
 dependants. After Saint Louis had pub- 
 lished his ordinance against swearers, Join- 
 ville, to whom such characters were odious, 
 made a regulation for the interior manage- 
 ment of his house, ?' que celui de ses gens 
 qui jureroit seulement par le diable seroit 
 puni d'un souffiet ou d'un coup de poing." 
 " En Thotel de Joinville," says the Join- 
 ville MSS. " qui dit telle parole, regoit la 
 sufle on la paumelle." 
 
 I trust you will not be of opinion that 
 these are trifling or insignificant details. 
 They aim directly at the great end of all 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 197 
 
 writing and of all reading — the practical 
 improvement of mankind. 
 
 It may seem strange to some persons, 
 before consideration, that good sense 
 should be classed among virtues which are 
 essential to the order ; yet it will not be 
 difficult to convince them that this decision 
 is perfectly just, and founded upon right 
 reasoning. " It is a people of no under- 
 standing,'' says the Scripture, " therefore 
 He that made them will not have mercy on 
 them, and He that formed them will shew 
 them no favour # ." Now the whole appa- 
 rent mystery of this language is resolved 
 at once if we remember that the under- 
 standing here spoken of, as well as the 
 good sense which is classed among moral 
 virtues, depends more upon the heart than 
 upon the head ; that it consists in the honest 
 use of those faculties, which are given with 
 hardly any exception, to all men alike, in 
 the practice of pursuing, under the guid- 
 ance of conscience, the broad and straight 
 forward course of piety and virtue, loyalty 
 
 * Isa. xxvii. 11. 
 
 k3 
 
196 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and honour; and that unless in the very 
 rare cases of absolute mental incapacity, 
 the absence of this quality, by whatever 
 term we may think fit to designate it, is 
 sure to indicate some vice or moral ble- 
 mish of the mind. The importance of this 
 virtue cannot be too highly appreciated in 
 a religious point of view as well as in re- 
 lation to the conduct of life. " Chris- 
 tianity says Montesquieu # , is full of good 
 sense. It is opposed on the one hand to 
 the pedantry, solemn trifling, and impu- 
 dence of men who have zeal without know- 
 ledge, and profession without charity. In 
 religion, as in every concern and transac- 
 tion of human life, there must be discretion 
 and right judgment to a certain extent to 
 perfect the character, or rather where these 
 are wanting there is no religion. Men 
 may render the most important obligations 
 of no effect, and the most solemn truths 
 ridiculous by failing in this particular. The 
 very acts of piety may be perverted to the 
 scandal of religion, * Toutes choses ont 
 
 * Esprit des loix, xxiv. 26. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 199 
 
 leur saison," says Montagne, " et je puis 
 dire mon patenostre hors de propos." We 
 do not desire men to be moderately Chris- 
 tians in their language and demeanour, but 
 to be moderate in both, that they may be 
 Christians. We do not desire them to have 
 all wisdom and all knowledge, but to pos- 
 sess that ordinary good sense which is only 
 another expression for ordinary virtue. 
 Again, on the other hand, what is of still 
 greater importance to remember, Chris- 
 tianity is opposed to the blind extrava- 
 gance of enthusiasts, who, in every age of 
 the world, have neglected the great laws 
 of nature and morality, and to the hypo- 
 crisy and impious profanation of those re- 
 formers in England, during the reign of 
 Charles L, who persecuted the Church and 
 overthrew the government of the kingdom. 
 In allusion to this particular period you 
 must be reminded that it was impossible 
 for a gentleman to have halted between 
 these two opinions which divided the na- 
 tion. If Cromwell, Hampden, and Sir 
 Harry Vane were at any interval of their 
 career the dupes of their own base hypo- 
 k4 
 
300 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 crisy, they did not rise in the rank of ho- 
 nour for being the less egregious villains. 
 The plea of error could never be admitted 
 in their excuse, for as long as they had 
 continued true and virtuous, single hearted 
 and sincere, a mistake of such a nature 
 was impossible. And here I cannot refrain 
 from indulging in a short digression upon 
 a subject of vast importance, that I may 
 place you upon your guard against the ad- 
 vance of a crafty and insidious enemy, who 
 attacks the noblest as well as the most vul- 
 gar minds, and whose final triumph, as it 
 has been well remarked, is in destroying 
 the vital principles of virtue and veracity. 
 Calvin, the great reformer of France, John 
 Knox, the leader of the Scotch enthusiasts, 
 who approved of the murder of Cardinal 
 Beaton, Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, who 
 opposed the Christian religion from prin- 
 ciple, and by supposed inspiration, the 
 English regicides, who murdered Charles 
 I., and who marched to the scaffold with 
 the confidence of martyrs ; these were men 
 of very different dispositions and constitu- 
 tions of mind, yet were they all the victims 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 201 
 
 of the same fanaticism which commenced 
 and perfected its triumph over each indivi- 
 dual, the moment when he abandoned the 
 post of honour, the great " vantage ground" 
 of morality and natural revelation. Well 
 might Hooker say in allusion to such im- 
 pressions, " it behoveth wisdom to fear the 
 sequels thereof, even beyond all apparent 
 cause of fear." What wisdom and what 
 sublimity in that reply of Hector to Poly- 
 damas ! 
 
 Tvvrj & oiuvoiGi ravv7TTEpvye(T(n KeXsveig 
 HeiOsffOai' tojv bti fxeTarps7ron\ 48' aXeyi^a), 
 ~Elr siri twcrt irpog r)u) r r)eXiov re, 
 Etr' hir apiartpa roiye, tzqti Zcxpov rjeposvTa, 
 *H/ui£ 8e [JieyaXoio Aiog 7r«0wjU£0a j3«Xy 
 *Og iraGi Svrjroiai kcli aOavaroiciv avaacrei. 
 Eig 6i(t)vog apiGTog, ojivvsvQai irepi 7rarprjg, 
 
 There is a beautiful illustation of the 
 lesson which I would impress upon you, 
 in the first book of Herodotus. Pactyas, 
 the Persian rebel, had fled as a supplicant 
 to the Cymeans, who received and sheltered 
 him, as they were bound to do, by their 
 law of conscience. Upon receiving orders 
 from the Persian monarch to deliver this. 
 k 5 
 
202 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 person to his resentment, they were thrown 
 into dismay. They dreaded the power of 
 the tyrant, and while they were necessarily 
 conscious of their duty, they obeyed the 
 dictate of their fear by affecting to doubt 
 it, and so they sent to consult the Oracle 
 of Branchis, to learn the will of God, al- 
 though they already knew what that re- 
 quired. The answer was instantly given, 
 " to deliver up Pactyas." The messengers 
 returned, and the Cymeans, thus confirmed # , 
 prepared to deliver up the victim. Aristo- 
 dicus, a just and prudent man, entreated 
 that nothing might be concluded until he 
 should be sent with other messengers to 
 the same oracle. His request was granted, 
 and the new embassy departed for the 
 oracle. They propose the former question, 
 and the same answer is as quickly returned. 
 But Aristodicus being now convinced of 
 some mistake, proceeded to explore the 
 temple, and to disturb the birds, to whom 
 religion afforded that asylum ; whereupon 
 a voice cried out, " O most unholy man, 
 
 * The words of Major Harrison, whose prayer was 
 still less excusable than the demand of the Cymeans. 
 
 7 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 203 
 
 why do you dare to commit such deeds ? 
 Do you venture to disturb my supplicants ?" 
 Aristodicus replied, " O king, are you re- 
 solved to protect your supplicants, and do 
 you command the Cymeans to deliver up 
 theirs 1" Upon which the celebrated an- 
 swer was returned, " Yea, I do command 
 you this, seeking your destruction as im- 
 pious men, that you may never again con- 
 sult the oracle, and enquire whether you 
 should abandon your supplicants/' These 
 words might convey memorable instruction, 
 they might teach lessons of prudence and 
 moderation to religious men, lessons of 
 fidelity and truth in the sacrifice of incli- 
 nation to duty, of hasty passion to the un- 
 alterable laws of nature and the Gospel. 
 They might teach them to be j ust before they 
 are generous, to obey before they sacrifice. 
 
 Such is the importance of this virtue 
 with regard to religion : it is of equal con- 
 sequence in relation to the conduct of life. 
 " I am confident," says Lord Clarendon, 
 " with very good warrant, that many men 
 have, from their souls, abhorred every ar- 
 k 6 
 
204 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ticle of this rebellion, and heartily depre- 
 cated the miseries and desolation we have 
 suffered by it, who have themselves, with 
 great alacrity and industry contributed to, 
 if not contrived those very votes and con- 
 clusions from whence the evils they abhor 
 have most naturally and regularly flowed 
 and been deduced/' And the absence of 
 this virtue will for ever be calculated to 
 produce evil of equal magnitude. Those 
 miserable effects which are witnessed from 
 time to time, arising from the infatuated 
 policy of men of rank, who reward and en- 
 courage traitors against religion and against 
 civil government, who seem to regard infi- 
 delity as giving men a claim to favour, and 
 disloyalty as entitled to reward ; and who 
 meanly imagine from the suggestion of 
 their own covetous hearts, that the proffer 
 of their pitiful treasures can wipe away 
 the stain of merited disgrace, — these ef- 
 fects are to be attributed, not as is gene- 
 rally supposed, to the mental imbecility of 
 half-hearted, half-witted men, and wanting 
 natural discernment, but rather to the far 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 205 
 
 less excusable failing of common principle 
 and ordinary virtue, to the folly of undis- 
 ciplined passions and of a worldly heart. 
 It is the folly of disappointed ambition, it 
 is the folly of personal enmity, it is the 
 folly of turning aside from the view of in- 
 evitable consequences, from the evidence 
 of experience and of judgment, to follow 
 the impulse of selfish passion and of selfish 
 interest. It is the folly of preferring so- 
 phistry, which pleases, to truth, which 
 opposes private inclination. It is the f^y 
 of preferring the praises of a party, or of 
 a thoughtless multitude to the testimony 
 of a good conscience and to the approval 
 of the wise. How could such folly be 
 compatible with the spirit of a gentleman ? 
 What union could take place between qua- 
 lities so opposite as selfishness and public 
 spirit, deceit and generosity, a slavish de- 
 votion of body and soul to the scheme of 
 a political intrigue, and the noble, the high 
 and glorious independance of conscience 
 and of honour ? The whole case is clearly 
 stated and profoundly argued by the in- 
 comparable Locke, in his chapter upon 
 
206 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 power. u Here," he observes, " we may 
 see how it comes to pass that a man may 
 justly incur punishment, though it be cer- 
 tain that in all the particular actions that 
 he wills, he does, and necessarily does will 
 that, which he then judges to be good. For 
 though his will be always determined by 
 that which is judged good by his under- 
 standing, yet it excuses him not ; because, 
 by a too hasty choice of his own making, 
 he has imposed on himself wrong measures 
 of good and evil ; which, however false 
 and fallacious, have the same influence on 
 all his future conduct as if they were true 
 and right. He then vitiated his own palate, 
 and must be answerable to himself for the 
 sickness and death that follows from it. 
 The eternal law and nature of things must 
 not be altered to comply with his ill ordered 
 choice. If the neglect or abuse of the 
 liberty he had to examine what would 
 really and truly make for his happiness, 
 misleads him, the miscarriages that follow 
 on it must be imputed to his own election. 
 He had a power to suspend his determina- 
 tion ; it was given him that he might ex- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 207 
 
 amine, and take care of his own happiness, 
 and look that he were not deceived. And 
 he could never judge that it was better to 
 be deceived than not, in a matter of so 
 great and near concernment # ." 
 
 Rightly then did our ancestors regard 
 good sense as a virtue, which was essen- 
 tial to the chivalrous character, and per- 
 fectly clear and agreeable to right reason 
 was their view of its origin and impor- 
 tance. 
 
 Generosity and liberality were consi- 
 dered, as they will always be, two essential 
 qualities in the character of a gentleman. 
 The hospitality of these times became a 
 positive virtue in the chivalrous character. 
 When the poor youth desired food for a 
 twelvemonth at King Arthur's Court, 
 " ' Wei/ sayd the Kynge, 6 ye shal have 
 mete and drynke ynouz, I never deffended 
 yt none, nother my frende ne my foo.' " 
 This was according to the Apostolic pre- 
 cept " if thine enemy hunger feed him." 
 The Duke of Montmorency passing by 
 
 * See also Aristotle, Ethics, lib. iii. 5. 
 
208 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Bruges when his nephew the young Due 
 d'Enghein was at school, took occasion to 
 make him a present of a hundred pistoles 
 for pocket money Upon his return he 
 again paid him a visit, when he enquired 
 to what use he had applied the money. 
 The young Duke shewed him the purse 
 full as he had received it, upon which the 
 Duke of Montmorency took the purse and 
 threw it out of the window, saying to his 
 nephew, " apprenez Monsieur qu'un aussi 
 grand prince que vous ne doit point garder 
 d'argent." The pupil of Fenelon knew to 
 what purpose money might be well em- 
 ployed. When the young Duke of Bur- 
 gundy heard that La Fontaine was con- 
 verted, and had renounced the profit aris- 
 ing from an edition of his Tales, he sent 
 to him a purse of fifty livres, with an assu- 
 rance " that his liberality was not to ter- 
 minate with that first present " Let it be 
 well understood also that this disposition 
 may be displayed as well in refusing as in 
 employing money, and that a laudable use 
 will never remove the disgrace attached to 
 an improper zeal in its acquirement. It 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 209 
 
 happened upon a sudden swell of the waters 
 in the Adige, that the bridge of Verona was 
 carried away with the exception of the 
 centre arch, upon which stood a house, 
 with its inhabitants, who were seen suppli- 
 cating for assistance, while the foundations 
 which supported the building were visibly- 
 giving way. The Count of Spolverini pro- 
 posed a reward of about an hundred French 
 Louis, to any person who would venture to 
 deliver them. A young peasant offered 
 himself from the crowd, seized a boat and 
 pushed off into the stream : he gained the 
 pier and received the whole family into the 
 boat, with which he returned in safety to 
 the shore. The Count was about to give 
 him the reward, " No/' said the young 
 man, " I do not sell my life, give the 
 money to this poor family which has need 
 of it. This was the spirit of a gentleman 
 in a peasant : but how rare are such in- 
 stances in a commercial country ? Let it 
 be observed also, that the spirit of a gen- 
 tleman is opposed to these narrow schemes 
 of selfish enjoyment, to these threatening 
 
210 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 denunciations and murderous contrivances 
 for the protection of property which are so 
 frequently adopted by rich mechanics and 
 persons in the middle ranks of life, who 
 fancy themselves great men when they 
 frown upon the poor. The neighbourhood 
 of a gentleman, should be marked not by 
 threatening notices and objects of terror, 
 but by a general system of beneficence 
 and liberality, extending its influence in a 
 greater or less degree to all persons of 
 whatever condition who may approach it. 
 In enforcing the virtue and the obligation 
 of practising liberality, you must be care- 
 ful to observe that it is not the extravagant 
 and unmeaning abuse of money in which 
 the thoughtless heir is so likely to indulge, 
 nor the system of ruin and degradation 
 which leads men to " the turf" and the 
 gaming table. But it is that habit of de- 
 spising the instrument in the pursuit of 
 the end, of regarding money as the means 
 of rewarding, encouraging, and relieving 
 those who are the proper objects of such a 
 disposition. It is to reward those who 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 211 
 
 have rendered us any service, to encourage 
 the industrious % who have to struggle 
 with difficulties in their laudable efforts at 
 independence, to relieve the poor and the 
 destitute, the fatherless and the widow. 
 Who has learned to trust in the Cross, to 
 look up to Christ as his Saviour, and will 
 not pant after the exercise of these virtues ! 
 " Christo in pauperibus," what a thought 
 to animate him ! Who can look back with 
 satisfaction upon the dignity of a worthy 
 race, to which he is allied, and will not 
 aspire to imitate that charity and munifi- 
 cence which are associated with its name ! 
 Has it been his office to discharge the last 
 duties to the dead ? Can he forget the im- 
 pression which overwhelmed him when he 
 heard that anthem which proclaims in 
 simple words, but in all the pomp and 
 triumph of music, the choice which they 
 made of life eternal. 66 When the ear heard 
 
 * Not to be always considering for how little we 
 can discharge the debt of service, but rather to be 
 actuated by the spirit of Tiberius the Second, who 
 u measured his bounty to the people not so much by 
 their expectations as by his own dignity," 
 
212 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 me, then it blessed me ; and when the eye 
 saw me, it gave witness to me. Because I 
 delivered the poor that cried, and the fa- 
 therless, and him that had none to help 
 him." And here I shall take occasion to 
 observe that the ideas and manners of our 
 own country, in the present age, although 
 they differ from those which we are con- 
 sidering in this particular of charity to the 
 poor, yet do they not, in the smallest de- 
 gree, dispense with the exercise of similar 
 virtues. This is an age of system and of 
 civilization (as it is termed) pushed to an 
 extreme; too much is expected from the 
 operation of law, and too little from the 
 virtue of individuals. We are too careful 
 in looking forward to general results, and 
 too remiss in discharging particular acts 
 of duty when we cannot be certain of their 
 consequence. I do not wish, however, to 
 speak with censure of those institutions 
 which certainly contribute to great good, 
 while they relieve men as far as is compa- 
 tible with the attainment of that end, from 
 feeling and obeying the obligations of reli- 
 gion. But there are men so earnestly de- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 213 
 
 sirous of promoting their benevolent plans 
 for the instruction and benefit of mankind, 
 that they will overlook the attendance of 
 positive evil upon the measures which they 
 adopt, and will be indifferent to the dispo- 
 sition of mind in the individuals who con- 
 tribute to their finance, provided the result 
 of all will be an increase of funds to be ex- 
 pended in the creation of that good in 
 which they are the chartered traders. With 
 the very best intentions their motto is in 
 fact 
 
 " O cives, cives, quaerenda pecunia primum est 
 Virtus post nummos." 
 
 Forgetting that these great general results, 
 however the instrumentality of human 
 means may be exercised, are after all in 
 the hands of a higher Power ; that the 
 missionary who indulges his converts in 
 the practices of idolatry, and the man of 
 benevolence at home, who neglects positive 
 and immediate advantage for a future 
 good, are both actuated by a worldly pru- 
 dence which is condemned by the Gospel, 
 and that in every circumstance of life, the 
 first duty of Christians is not to sacrifice 
 
214 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 but to obey. It is related of Mr. Burke 
 that " he was liberal even to the common 
 mendicants ; and used to attribute inatten- 
 tion to their requests rather to the love of 
 money than to the professed policy of dis- 
 couraging beggars." Whatever may be our 
 opinion with respect to this particular prac- 
 tice, let it be made the rule and resolution of 
 every gentleman to answer all just and rea- 
 sonable appeals to his charity ; for it is a 
 duty which he owes to himself as well as to 
 God and his fellow men. Let him give 
 alms, however small, whether it be on 
 passing the prison or hospital, on being 
 presented with an authenticated statement 
 of suffering, or on witnessing an actual 
 scene of distress. There are, indeed, duties 
 which he must discharge as a member of 
 society, under the worst of laws, but he 
 has also to fulfil duties as a man and as a 
 gentleman, with the performance of which 
 no human institution has a right to inter- 
 fere. It is absurd and unchristian to argue 
 against such habits of liberality from the 
 ingratitude of men. " II est beau de faire 
 des ingrats," says a French poet. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 215 
 
 With respect to the evil which arises 
 from the indiscriminate dispensation of 
 alms, which relates more particularly to my 
 object in these remarks, you will remember 
 that Paley, in his Moral Philosophy, is 
 careful to warn his reader from tampering 
 with those fine and exquisite feelings, which 
 should be ever ready to prompt and to 
 direct us. This is the lesson which I wish 
 to press upon you. The corruption and 
 the arts of complicated wickedness which 
 prevail in a great capital may require that 
 kind of provision for the necessities of the 
 poor which is not liable to be abused. But 
 after all, upon every occasion and in every 
 place, the Christian and the gentleman 
 should both remember, that their own in- 
 dividual temper of mind must not be ne- 
 glected for the sake of any general result 
 to society, and besides this, that cases of 
 desertion and of need will exist notwith- 
 standing the exertions of a public body ; 
 they will remember that in the very scene 
 of the greatest opulence, human beings are 
 found, from time to time, reduced to such 
 a state of hopeless and of insurmountable 
 
216 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 misery, that death is at once both its con- 
 sequence and its termination. And further, 
 the latter must bear in mind that it is not 
 to become a parish officer that he is called 
 by his order, not a mere instrument in the 
 hands of a public body, who is to forget 
 the culture of his individual character in 
 furthering the ends of a general institution ; 
 that he is not to be content with the simple 
 dispensation of money to be converted into 
 virtue by the piety of other men, still less 
 the avowed votary of a system and a theory 
 who will sacrifice the best affections of his 
 heart, and disobey the commands of reli- 
 gion in order to pursue his system and his 
 theory, the result of cool calculation in his 
 closet — He will recollect that this is not 
 what is required of him, but that the duty 
 is clear and simple, at once beneficial to 
 others and to his own mind. The success 
 and the issue resteth w 7 ith God, but the 
 virtue, without prying into its possible 
 consequences, is for us to discharge # . 
 
 * I am aware that the policy of the heathen world is 
 against my reasoning on this subject. The Greeks 
 had a horror of mendicity. Herodotus relates that 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 217 
 
 Arrived at this subject, when we have 
 to display the charity and unostentatious 
 
 Amasis, King of Egypt, punished public beggars with 
 death. The Romans condemned them to the mines 
 and public works, and even punished the persons 
 who gave them money. It is the saying of Plautus in 
 Trinum. " De mendico male meretur qui dat ei quod 
 edat aut bibat ; nam et illud quod dat perdit et pro- 
 ducitilli vitam ad miseriam." The instinct of animals 
 agrees with this reasoning, which seems to be essential 
 to every good government, 
 
 " Ignavum fucos pecus a pragsepibus arcent 
 
 and even 
 
 — " Pars agmina cogunt 
 Castigant que moras."— — 
 
 " Potius expedit inertes fame perire quam in ig- 
 navia fovere," is the savage maxim of the Roman em- 
 perors. The Germans, according to . Tacitus, con- 
 demned all beggars to be thrown into their morasses, 
 where they perished. Upon the suppression of the 
 monasteries, the mendicants who had formerly ob- 
 tained relief at their gates, wandered in want and 
 wretchedness through the country. To abate this 
 nuisance, a statute was enacted in the first year of 
 Edward VI. According to which, whoever " lived 
 idly and loiteringly for the space of three days," came 
 under the description of a vagabond, and was liable to 
 the following punishment. Two justices of the peace 
 might order the letter V to be burnt on his breast, 
 and adjudge him to serve the informer two years as 
 L 
 
218 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 benevolence of ancient manners, the re- 
 view of history becomes truly delightful ; 
 although we are continually reminded of 
 that truth which the introduction of Chris- 
 tianity has made so much more indispu- 
 table. " O quam multarum egregia opera 
 in obscuro jacent # ." When the Earl of 
 
 his slave. His master was bound to provide him with 
 bread, water, and refuse meat ; might fix an iron ring 
 round his neck, arm or leg, and was authorised to 
 compel him to " labour at any work, however vile it 
 might be, by beating, chaining, or otherwise." If the 
 slave absented himself a fortnight, the letter S was 
 burnt on his cheek or forehead, and he became a slave 
 for life : and if he offended a second time in like man- 
 ner, his flight subjected him to the penalties of felony. 
 These particulars are curious as marking the effects 
 which followed the return from Christianity to the 
 philosophy of the pagans, or rather to that infidel 
 frame of mind which actuated Somerset and his asso- 
 ciates. The milder spirit of the Gospel, while it will 
 sanction a rational and beneficent policy, will be cau- 
 tious how it prevents the alleviation or increases the 
 misery of individual suffering. Gregory the Great in- 
 terdicted himself during several days from the exercise 
 of the sacerdotal functions, because a beggar had pe- 
 rished in the streets of Rome. 
 
 * When the executors of the great Montesquieu 
 were inspecting his papers, they found a note of 6,500 
 livres, as sent to M. Main of Cadiz, who, upon en- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR* 219 
 
 Flanders sought refuge in the (' poor 
 smoky house" of an old woman in Bruges, 
 crying out, " O good woman, save me ; I 
 am thy Lorde therle of Flaunders." " The 
 poor woman," says Froissart, f 4 knewe hym 
 well, for she had ben often tymes at his 
 gate to fetche almes, and had often sene 
 hym as he went in and out a sportyng." 
 Acts of charity where they are thus indi- 
 rectly presented, are the more striking. 
 Froissart relates of the famous Earl of 
 Foix, that " he gave fyve florins in small 
 money at his gate to poore folkes, for the 
 love of God." How extensive and truly 
 primitive in its dispensation was the cha- 
 rity of Charlemagne, as stated by Egin- 
 hart? " circa paucapauperes sustentandos 
 et gratuitam liberalitatem, devotissimus, 
 quam non in patria sua solum, et in suo 
 
 quiry being made, related that the money had been 
 employed in delivering a native of Marseilles, who had 
 been captured and confined at Tetua. If this memo- 
 randum, intended for personal use, had not been thus 
 accidentally found, the name of the person who acted 
 this most generous part, would have been for ever un- 
 known. 
 
 l2 
 
220 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 regno facere curaveret, verum trans-maria 
 in Syriam, et iEgyptum, atque Africam, 
 Hierosolymas, Alexandriam atque Cartha- 
 ginem ubi Christianos in paupertate vivere 
 compererat, penurise eorum cOmpatiens pe- 
 cuniam mittere solebat." 
 
 Let us attend to Joinville's account of 
 Saint Louis. " From the time of his ear- 
 liest youth he was pitiful towards the 
 poor and afflicted, and . during his reign 
 there were always twenty-six poor people 
 fed daily in his house, and in Lent the 
 number was increased. Frequently he 
 waited upon them himself, and served them 
 from his own table, and on the festivals 
 and vigils he always served them before 
 he ate or drank ; and when they had 
 .enough, they all received money to carry 
 with them. In short, it would be impos- 
 sible to relate the number and greatness of 
 acts of charity which were performed by 
 the King Saint Louis/' And he observes 
 that when some persons complained of his 
 expense, he made reply, " qu'il aimoit 
 mieux faire grans despens a faire aumos- 
 nes, que en boubans et vanitez and the 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 221 
 
 historian adds what should be attended to 
 with care, that for all his alms there was 
 nothing deficient in the expenditure of 
 his house, or unworthy of a great prince. 
 Whenever he travelled within his kingdom 
 he was in the habit of visiting the poor 
 churches, and hospitals, he would enquire 
 for poor gentlemen and widows, and for 
 young ladies who were in distress, that he 
 might enable them to marry. Wherever 
 there was suffering and distress there he 
 bestowed his money and his interest. The 
 commissioners whom he sent into the pro- 
 vinces to make restitution, were directed to 
 draw up a list of the poor labourers of each 
 parish who were disabled, and these were 
 provided for by the king. His will con- 
 tained a vast number of donations to mo- 
 nasteries and hospitals ; to poor young 
 women for their dowry, to the poor in ge- 
 neral who wanted clothing ; to scholars 
 who had not the means of defraying the 
 expense of their education, to widows and 
 orphans, and lastly to clerks, until they 
 should procure a benefice. It is related of 
 King Robert, son of Hughes Capet, that 
 l3 
 
222 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 he fed three hundred poor people every 
 day. Upon Holy Thursday he served them 
 on his knees and washed their feet, and 
 thence the custom prevailed in France as 
 in Germany for the king to perform this 
 pious ceremony every year. In Archbi- 
 shop Turpin's chronicle we read of the 
 Saracen Argolander, who found Charle- 
 magne at dinner, when he came to be bap- 
 tized and to confirm the truce. The king 
 was surrounded with knights and priests, 
 who sat at many tables, but Argolander 
 espied also thirty poor men in mean ha- 
 biliments, without either table or table 
 cloth, sitting and eating their scanty meals 
 upon the ground. He enquired what they 
 were ? " These," replied the king, " are 
 people of God, the messengers of our 
 Lord Jesus, whom in his and his Apostles 
 names' we feed daily." Upon this Argo- 
 lander concluded their religion to be false, 
 and refused to be baptized. " Here then," 
 says the writer of this renowned history, 
 " we may note the Christian incurs great 
 blame who neglects the poor. If Charles, 
 from inattention to their comfort, thereby 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 223 
 
 lost the opportunity of converting the Sa- 
 racens, what will be the lot of those who 
 treat them still worse? They will have 
 this sentence pronounced : — Depart from 
 me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire ; for I 
 was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat ; 
 naked, and ye cloathed me not." 
 
 I must again direct your attention to the 
 character of the Chevalier Bayard. The 
 President d'Expilly from the passage which 
 I have before quoted, proceeds to relate, 
 as follows, these distinguishing features 
 of his character, ff He never refused to 
 assist his neighbour, either in doing him 
 a service or in affording him money, and 
 this he always performed in secret and 
 with the best grace. No poor gentleman 
 ever experienced his refusal, whatever he 
 might have wished from him. It is calcu- 
 lated that he enabled, and caused to marry, 
 during his life, more than a hundred poor 
 orphans, both of noble and of common 
 family. The widow was sure to meet with 
 his assistance and consolation. In war, he 
 used to mount a soldier, to give clothes to 
 one man, money to another, and contrived 
 l4 
 
224 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 always to persuade them that it was he 
 who was under an obligation. He had 
 great and frequent opportunities of gaining 
 money, but he gave away the profit of 
 ransoms, and reserved nothing. He never 
 departed from a house in which he had 
 been lodged, or from a conquered country 
 without paying exactly for what he had 
 required." This is not careless praise, 
 for I will present you with particular in- 
 stances that will verify and confirm it. 
 It happened, that an unfortunate young 
 lady, abandoned by her mother, and en- 
 ticed away by his valet, excited at once 
 his commiseration and curiosity. (€ Plut a 
 Dieu," cried the unhappy girl, u que je 
 fusse morte avec honneur avant que me 
 voir entre vos mains ; mais ma mere ne 
 m'y a forcee que par misere, car nous 
 mourons de faim." Here she was over- 
 powered with her grief. Bayard deeply 
 affected, and observing so much virtue in 
 this young person, replied to her. " In- 
 deed, my dear young lady, I shall take good 
 care how I combat these noble sentiments 
 which you evince. I have always respected 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 225 
 
 virtue, and I respect it particularly in the 
 nobility. Be comforted and come with 
 me, I will conduct you to a house where 
 your honour will be in safety. Saying this, 
 he took the light from his servant, and 
 conducted her to the house of a lady to 
 whom he was related, and who lived near 
 his own. The following morning he sent 
 to enquire for the mother, whom he re- 
 proached in the most severe terms for hav- 
 ing been induced to an act of such infamy 
 as to deliver up her daughter. And above 
 all," said he, " being of noble family you 
 are still more guilty." The poor woman 
 terrified at what had happened, assured 
 him of her daughter's honour, and that her 
 fault was only occasioned by hunger and 
 misery. " But tell me," replied Bayard, 
 " has no one proposed marriage to her V i 
 " One of our neighbours," she answered, 
 " a gentleman of fortune, spoke to me on 
 the subject a short time ago ; but he de- 
 manded a fortune of six hundred florins, 
 and that is more than double of all that I 
 possess in the world." " And would he 
 marry her," replied Bayard, " if she had 
 l5 
 
226 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 this fortune?" " Yes, my lord, very cer- 
 tainly/' replied the widow. Then the 
 knight sent for his purse, from which he 
 drew three hundred crowns, which he pre- 
 sented to her, saying, " here are two hun- 
 dred crowns, which are worth more than 
 six hundred florins, to portion your daugh- 
 ter, and a hundred crowns for her dress 
 and toilet he then presented another 
 hundred crowns to the mother, and charged 
 his valet-de-chambre to keep a watch upon 
 the conduct of the parties, and to give him 
 an account of it, until she should be mar- 
 ried. The wedding took place in three 
 days, and the generosity of Bayard was 
 rewarded by the satisfaction which he felt 
 in preserving the honour of a young, noble, 
 and virtuous girl, and of having rendered 
 her, by his conduct, a respectable and 
 exemplary wife # . 
 
 An example of this kind requires no 
 
 * Scipio restored the captive to her lover Allucius, 
 but it was upon condition that the prince would assist 
 the Roman people: the republican evinced his Roman 
 selfishness even while he talked of generosity and 
 love. 
 
 8 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 227 
 
 comment. That man's heart must be in a 
 state of hopeless debasement who can con- 
 template it without admiration. 
 
 In the storming of the city of Brescia, 
 by the French, Bayard received a severe 
 wound at the commencement of the action, 
 and was carried by some soldiers into a 
 magnificent house which was near, belong- 
 ing to a gentleman who had fled, leaving 
 his wife and two young and beautiful 
 daughters without human protection. It 
 was the lady who opened the door, and 
 admitted Bayard, who was thought to be 
 dying. He ordered the soldiers to remain 
 without the door, and to allow no person 
 to enter. He was carried into a splendid 
 apartment, where the lady fell upon her 
 knees before him, and entreated his pro- 
 tection for herself and for her children. 
 " Madame," replied Bayard, hardly able to 
 speak, " I do not know whether I shall 
 survive my wound, but as long as I live 
 there shall no more harm happen to you or 
 to your daughters than to myself." A sur- 
 geon was procured, and as soon as he had 
 dressed the wound, Bayard enquired for 
 l 6 
 
228 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 the master of the house. Upon hearing 
 that he had fled for safety to a convent, he 
 dispatched two soldiers who conducted him 
 back to his house, when Bayard assured 
 him of his friendship and protection. In 
 this house he was confined to his chamber 
 for six weeks, and when at length the sur- 
 geon had consented to his plan of rejoin- 
 ing the army, the gallant Bayard could 
 not endure further delay. The gentleman 
 and lady at whose house he lodged, hearing 
 of his proposed departure, and considering 
 that themselves, their children, and all their 
 property, which might amount to a yearly 
 income of two thousand gold ducats*, were 
 at his disposal, were greatly at a loss to 
 anticipate how he would treat them, and 
 at the least they reckoned upon having to 
 pay ten thousand ducats for their ransom. 
 But the lady, who had opportunities of 
 knowing the nobleness of his sentiments, 
 had hopes that he would be contented with 
 the offer which she prepared to make, and 
 she inclosed two thousand five hundred 
 
 * It was a small coin of the value of eleven livres 
 ten sous of present French money. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 229 
 
 gold ducats in a small steel box, richly 
 ornamented, and on the morning of the day 
 when Bayard was to set out, she came 
 into his room, followed by a servant who 
 carried the box. She began by falling on 
 her knees, but he obliged her to rise, and 
 refused to hear her until she was seated by 
 his side. " My Lord," she commenced, 
 f I shall render thanks to God all my life, 
 for having been pleased, in the storming 
 and pillage of our city, to conduct to our 
 house so generous a knight. I shall always 
 consider you as our guardian angel, to 
 whom I, my husband, and my two daugh- 
 ters are indebted for life and honour. Since 
 the day that you entered our house, we 
 have only received marks of your goodness 
 and friendship ; your people have failed in 
 nothing, and have paid for every thing 
 that they took. We confess that we are 
 your prisoners. The house, and every 
 thing which it contains, is yours by the 
 right of conquest ; but you have displayed 
 so much generosity and greatness of soul, 
 that I am going to entreat you to have pity 
 upon us, and to be satisfied with the small 
 
230 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 present which I have the honour to offer 
 you." In saying this, she opened the box 
 and displayed the contents. The knight, 
 who had always despised gold and silver, 
 began to smile. " Madame," said he, 
 f? how much is there in the box ?" The 
 lady conceiving that he said this in disdain 
 at the insignificance of the present, re- 
 plied, trembling, " My Lord, there are 
 only two thousand five hundred ducats, but 
 if you are not satisfied, order what you 
 require, and we will endeavour to find it." 
 " That is not what I was intending to say," 
 replied Bayard, ff if you should offer me 
 a hundred thousand crowns I should not 
 regard it worth as much as the kindness 
 with which you have treated me in your 
 house, and the good company which I have 
 enjoyed in your faily. Instead of taking 
 your money, I give you my promise that 
 as long as I shall live, you will possess in 
 me a gentleman for your servant and your 
 friend, and that I will dearly cherish the 
 remembrance of your kindness." The lady, 
 quite astonished at such an unexpected re- 
 ception, burst into tears, and falling at his 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 231 
 
 feet, conjured him to accept her present. 
 " My Lord/' she exclaimed, " I shall re- 
 gard myself as the most unhappy woman 
 in the world if you refuse it, and I shall 
 feel that during your abode with us, I have 
 not deserved the kindness with which you 
 have loaded us." " Then Madame/' re- 
 plied Bayard, " since you absolutely wish 
 it, I accept it, but I beg that you will 
 desire your daughters to come here, that I 
 may take my leave of them." While she 
 was absent, in calling her daughters, Bayard 
 divided the ducats into three portions, each 
 of the two containing a thousand ducats, 
 and the other, five hundred. The young 
 ladies, upon entering, were about to kneel, 
 but he obliged them to sit down by his 
 side. Then the eldest began : " My Lord, 
 you behold in us two young persons who 
 are indebted to you for life and honour. 
 We are very sorry that we have no other 
 means to recompense your favour, but that 
 of praying to God for your lordship all our 
 lives, that he may reward you in this world 
 and in the next." Bayard, affected almost 
 to tears, thanked them for their assistance, 
 
232 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and for the pleasure which he had enjoyed 
 in their company, (for they had been con- 
 stantly in his room, and had diverted him 
 while they were at work, either by singing 
 or by playing on the lute.) " You know," 
 said he, " that soldiers are not generally 
 loaded with jewels or other articles to pre- 
 sent to young ladies, but Madame, your 
 mother, has just forced me to accept from 
 her two thousand five hundred ducats, 
 which you see there. I give a thousand to 
 each of you for your marriage portion." In 
 spite of their efforts, he obliged them to 
 accept it, requesting only that they would 
 pray to God for him. Then turning to the 
 mother, '** Madame," said he, " these five 
 hundred ducats remain forme, and the use 
 which I wish to make of them, is to dis- 
 tribute them among the poor nunneries, 
 which have suffered most during the plun- 
 der ; and as I am going to depart, and you 
 have better opportunity of ascertaining the 
 most deserving of these objects, I trust 
 this work in your hands, and now I must 
 take leave of you and of your daughters-" 
 They threw themselves at his feet, and la- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 233 
 
 mented as if they had lost a father ; they 
 clasped his hands in their own, and the 
 mother with difficulty found utterance to 
 wish him farewell. " Too generous knight, 
 God alone can recompense you ; we shall 
 pray that he may do it, every day that we 
 shall live." After this they withdrew. 
 Bayard sent to request that the father 
 would come to dine with him. Informed 
 of what had passed, he attended and ex- 
 pressed his gratitude. As soon as they 
 had dined, Bayard, who had given orders 
 for his equipage to be ready, was making 
 preparations to set out, when the two young 
 ladies presented themselves, and entreated 
 him to accept from each a piece of their 
 work. The eldest gave him two bracelets 
 of gold and silver thread, and the youngest, 
 a purse of crimson satin, richly embroi- 
 dered : he received them with as much 
 gratitude as if they had been his fortune ; 
 he put on the bracelets in their presence, 
 and placed the purse in his pocket, pro- 
 mising the young ladies that as long as 
 their presents should last, he would carry 
 them with him. Adieus and tears were 
 
234 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 again commencing, but they must, at 
 length, separate. 
 
 From this affecting narrative our thoughts 
 will naturally lead us to the memorable in- 
 stance of chivalrous virtue displayed by 
 Alexander the Great, towards the captive 
 family of Darius, that well known but 
 never-too-often-admired example of deli- 
 cate attention and of generous forbearance, 
 which would have reflected grace and glory 
 upon the most virtuous hero of Christendom. 
 Leonnatus, says the historian, whom Alex- 
 ander employed to communicate his wishes 
 to the prisoners, srageXflovra Is t*jv Gxwvnv, ra 
 re srsg* Aagsta eweiv, xat on tojv 8egatfs*av aureus 
 Zpyyjwpzi AXs£av5§o£ rm Bacikiwv, xai rov 
 aXKov KOGfAOV tloli xcx7^ig0<zi BocglXiggoc$ p. When 
 the unfortunate Darius was apprized of the 
 generosity of his enemy, he raised his 
 hands to heaven, and prayed in these cele- 
 brated words, 'AXX* ct) Zst; Baciksv, orou em- 
 
 TSTq/ZKTOCl VEfAclV XCC B<XGl\SCOV irpOCyfAOLTX 6V CSV- 
 QqWHOIS, GV WV (AOLklGTGt /XSV SfA.01 tyvkoityv TTSpGCOV 
 
 re xat M?)Sa/v rajv agx>?)v, atGTrepvv xai etiaxas. 
 
 * Arrian, lib. ii. 12. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 235 
 
 Et 5s 5oj lyco &ksti aoi BqcgiKeus rm$ AciaS, av Je 
 ymbsvi aXkco on y*vi \AXei;avSg&; ^r«§aS«vai ro 
 
 There cannot be a more affecting in- 
 stance of the virtue and glory belonging to 
 the hero of these days, than that which 
 occurs in the History of Galien Restaure, 
 when the brave Galien hastens to defend 
 the cause of his innocent mother, the beau- 
 tiful Jacqueline, who was falsely accused 
 by his wicked uncles, and about to suffer a 
 cruel death. The first thing he heard upon 
 his arrival was the lamentation of the poor. 
 " La meillure Demoiselle de ce pais," they 
 cried, " sera aujourd huy exilee a grand 
 tort, les pauvres etoient soutenus par elle ; 
 maudit soit celui qui est cause que nous la 
 perdrons." And now the awful hour ar- 
 rived when Jacqueline was conducted forth 
 to hear the fatal sentence. Alas ! in vain 
 did she call upon her faithful Olivier who 
 was slain at Roncevaux. Burgaland was 
 the foe who defied her friends. She sup- 
 plicated one of her relations to accept the 
 
 * Arrian, lib, iv. 20. 
 
236 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 challenge, but he replied, " Je n'entrepren- 
 derai pas cela, de combattre contre Burga- 
 land." When Galien saw his mother thus 
 forsaken, and that no person dared to de- 
 fend her, he advanced, took her by the 
 hand, and said, " Madame, faites bonne 
 chere, car jusqu' a la mort je prendrai votre 
 cause en main et vous defendrai pour jus- 
 tifier votre innocence." Then the challenge 
 was accepted, and the lists cleared. Jac- 
 queline knew not her son : " Si elle Tent 
 connu," says the writer of this history, 
 " elle eut aime mieux etre bruslee que de 
 le laisser combattre contre Burgaland." 
 The combatants prepare for action : Galien, 
 raising his hand, and making the sign of 
 the cross upon his forehead. Burgaland 
 defied him in bitter terms, while Galien, 
 we are told, " reclama le nom de Jesus, en 
 le priant qu'il lui voulut etre en aide." 
 The battle commenced, and Galien seemed 
 to sink under the blows of his adversary t 
 u Quand la pauvre Jacqueline vit ce coup, 
 elle se jetta la face contre terre, et se prit 
 a pleurer en disant : vrai Dieu vous sgavez 
 que je suis accusee a tort, n'etant coupable 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 237 
 
 aucunement de la mort de mon pere; pro- 
 tegez s'ils vous plait, le chevalier qui com- 
 bat pour moi." But Galien recovered him- 
 self, and replied to the taunts of Burgaland, 
 saying, " Jesus Christ a toujours ete le 
 protecteur des innocens, j'ai esperance en 
 lui," Burgaland foamed with rage; the 
 people cry out for pity : " Helas ! il est 
 trop jeune, si ce n'etoit son courage il seroit 
 deja mort." Galien pronounced the high 
 name of our Saviour. " Car celui," says 
 the writer, " qui le nommera ne perira le 
 jour qu'il les aura prononcez, s'il n'estfaux 
 ou parjure et qu'il n'ait tort en ce qu'il veut 
 disputer." Once more all hope of Galien 
 seemed to be at an end, but our Lord had 
 mercy on the child, and he gave his adver- 
 sary a mortal wound who fell dead upon 
 the spot. 
 
 The historian goes on to relate, after 
 some delay, how Jacqueline discovers him 
 to be her son ; " Quand Jacqueline Pen- 
 tendit parler elle fit un cry, puis tomba 
 pamee ; quand elle fut revenue elle com- 
 menga a pleurer, et vint vers Galien et 
 Tembrassa et dit. Loiie soit Dieu, quand 
 
238 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUH. 
 
 il m'a fait la grace de revoir mon fils, et 
 que je le vois en sante devant moi. De 
 tout le mal que j'ay souffert et endure il ne 
 m'importe, puisque j'ay recouvert mon en- 
 fant/' The same union of courage and 
 generosity, every instance of which excites 
 the rapture and enthusiasm of the brave, 
 is displayed with admirable force in the 
 speech of Achilles to the unfortunate Cly- 
 temnestra, who supplicates his assistance 
 to save her innocent daughter from the 
 hands of Agamemnon. Nothing can be 
 more truly chivalrous than the delicate 
 sense of honour which the Greek poet in 
 this instance has attributed to his hero, 
 and it is highly worthy of remark, that even 
 in the form of expression he has given an 
 exact portrait of the knightly character, of 
 its independence, its simple and straight- 
 forward integrity, its generosity and its 
 tenderness of soul. 
 
 'Eyw & kv avdpog kvatteffrctTov rpcupeig, 
 Xnptovog, epadov rovg rponovg cnrXovg ix ilv * 
 Kai Toig Arpeidatg, fjv fisv r\^mnai icakwg, 
 TlEiaofitO'* orav 8e fxrj Kakwg, ov neuronal. 
 'AXX* hvQah' kv Tpoip r IXevQepav <pvaiv 
 TlapexdiVy "Aprj to kcit ipe Kocrfiijac* dopu 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 239 
 
 St tJ (TxerXia iraBovaa irpog tmv (pikraTwv, 
 "A drj Kar dvdpa yiyverai vectviav, 
 
 ToffOVTOV OLKTOV WSplta\u)V KCLTCLGTlKb), 
 
 Kov-7roTs Koprj <sv\ irpog irarpog <r0ay»|0'£rai, 
 'E/i?j <pariaQeio'* ■ * 
 
 If we turn for a moment from such scenes, 
 to observe the spirit which characterised 
 the heroes of ancient Rome, the models of 
 republican virtue, the examples that are 
 absurdly held up for the instruction of an 
 age which must execrate and despise them, 
 what a contrast is presented ? With what 
 feelings can we regard Scipio, when he is 
 represented preaching a sermon upon con- 
 tinence to the young prince Masinissa, 
 with murder and treachery in his heart, en- 
 deavouring to persuade him either to mur- 
 der the beautiful woman he had just mar- 
 ried, or to give her up to be murdered by 
 the Romans ? The Numidian had not the 
 courage to resist the inhuman minister of 
 republican tyranny ; he had not the virtue 
 to protect the helpless princess who had 
 thrown herself upon his mercy. Overcome 
 by persuasion and terror, he sent a trusty 
 
 * Eurip. Iphig. in aulid. 
 
240 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 slave who had charge of the poison which 
 was kept ready against unforeseen adver- 
 sities, and bade him, when he had prepared 
 a potion, to carry it to Sophonisba with 
 this message : " Masinissa would gladly 
 have fulfilled the marriage engagement, 
 the obligation of a husband to a wife ; but 
 since to do this is denied him, by those 
 who have the power to hinder it, he now 
 performs his other promise that she should 
 not be delivered up alive to the Romans. 
 Sophonisba, mindful of her father, her 
 country/and the two kings whose wife she 
 has been, will consult her own honour." 
 When the minister of death came to the 
 queen, and with the message presented her 
 the poison ; " I accept," said she, " this 
 marriage gift ; nor is it unwelcome if my 
 husband could indeed do nothing kinder 
 for his wife. This, however, tell him — 
 that I should have died with more honour 
 if I had not married at my funeral." She 
 spoke these words with a resolute counte- 
 nance, took the cup with a steady hand, 
 and drank it off. The wife of Syphax had 
 sacrificed her honour when she sought life 
 
the Broad stone of honour. 241 
 
 and safety from the hands of Masinissa ; 
 but was it for the man who murdered, or 
 for the slave who betrayed a beautiful and 
 helpless woman, to talk of virtue and fide- 
 lity ? The voice of his country proclaimed 
 the glory of the Roman conqueror, and the 
 prince who consented to be the base instru- 
 ment of his vengeance was soothed by the 
 honours of a kingly crown, and by the assu- 
 rance from the lips of Scipio that " he was 
 the only foreigner the Roman people thought 
 worthy of them." But the fate of that un- 
 fortunate queen will excite the pity of all 
 generous hearts ; while every man of ho- 
 nour will regard with execration the policy 
 which persecuted, and the cowardice which 
 betrayed her. But let us return to the 
 character of Bayard. u He was the sworn 
 enemy/' says D'Expilly, " of all flatterers 
 and of flattery, and with whatever great 
 prince he had to speak, it was always the 
 truth which he uttered. Scandal was hate- 
 ful to him, and he never took part in it ; 
 on the contrary, he repressed it as much 
 as he could. Bayard despised riches all 
 his life, and he little esteemed the rich if 
 
 M 
 
242 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 they were not also virtuous. He equally- 
 hated the hypocrite, and the bully who af- 
 fected to be brave ; and he punished with 
 severity those who quitted their standards 
 for plunder. The history of his life will 
 display his valour, his wisdom in council, 
 and his prudence in action. Finally, we 
 conclude this panegyric by observing that 
 Bayard was not one of those who, having 
 commenced well, fall off with years - y nor 
 on the other hand, of those who finish 
 their career more honourably than they 
 commenced it. His virtues were displayed 
 from the earliest youth, they were deve- 
 loped by maturity ; they were unaffected 
 by honours, and they were crowned by a 
 death of glory and by a renown which will 
 endure to the latest posterity. 
 
 Yet there is one feature of this admirable 
 character which has not been sufficiently 
 laid before you — his high honour. This 
 will lead me, in the end, to select other 
 instances which enrich and dignify the 
 page of history : but the life of Bayard will 
 furnish the first of these examples, without 
 which the dark scenes of this deceitful 
 
 8 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 243 
 
 world would present neither light nor ob- 
 ject worthy of our regard. 
 
 The Pope Julius the Second had failed 
 in his attempt to take the city of Ferrara 
 by siege and stratagem, he conceived a 
 third plan ; this was to employ persons 
 who should influence the Duke to deliver 
 up the French to his discretion. The Pope 
 had in his service a gentleman of Lodi, 
 in the Duchy of Milan, named Augustin 
 Guerlo, a man of intrigue, ever more ready 
 to commit a base than an honourable ac- 
 tion. The Pope had a conference with 
 him, in which he charged him to have a 
 private interview with the Duke of Fer- 
 rara, and to offer him, on the part of 
 the Pope, one of his nieces for his eldest 
 son, with the rank of gonfalonier and 
 captain-general of the Church; and that 
 besides, he would abandon all their pre- 
 sent bones of contention, on condition 
 that he would unite with him to destroy 
 the French utterly. For this purpose you 
 have only to dismiss them from your ser- 
 vice as no longer necessary. They will 
 then be obliged to pass through my terri- 
 m2 
 
244 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 tory, and I wish that not a man may escape. 
 Guerlo was pleased with the commission, 
 and he promised to fulfil it. He came to 
 Ferrara, and had an interview with the 
 Duke, who heard his proposals without 
 betraying his horror : he only replied that 
 he would willingly lend himself to further 
 the wishes of the holy father although un- 
 expected, and that he would have preferred 
 the loss of his estates, or even death itself 
 to an ingratitude and a treason so unworthy 
 of him. However, he treated the messen- 
 ger well, and apparently with favour, but 
 he ordered him to be conducted into a 
 room, the door of which he locked and 
 kept the key. He instantly went to the 
 house of Bayard, accompanied with one 
 gentleman. The account which he gave 
 of the bad intention of Julius, filled Bay- 
 ard with horror ; who could with difficulty 
 believe that the account was true ; but the 
 Duke proposed instantly to conduct him 
 to the palace, and to place him in a cabinet 
 whence he could himself hear Guerlo 
 repeat the Pope's commission. But, he 
 added, I felt the same horror when it was 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 245 
 
 first related. I know the obligations which 
 my ancestors have had to the kings of 
 France, and what I have myself to the reign- 
 ing king, and rather than repay them by 
 treason, I would consent to be torn asun- 
 der by four horses. Bayard replied that 
 he need not justify himself, that he knew 
 his greatness of soul too well to fear for 
 the result as far as he was concerned, and 
 that he should feel himself as secure in 
 Ferrara as in Paris. Then the Duke pro- 
 posed to adopt a similar measure against 
 the Pope, and to play him some good trick 
 in return ; and so without explaining him- 
 self farther he went back to the palace 
 where he first entertained Guerlo. After 
 this he accosted him upon business. " I 
 find that the plan of the holy father is not 
 practicable, and for two reasons ; first, how 
 can he suppose that I can trust him when 
 he has declared a hundred times that he 
 hated me more than any other man in the 
 world ; and that he would put me to death 
 if I fell into his hands ; and when I know 
 that all he desires is to obtain my city and 
 estates ? In the second place, how could I 
 m 3 
 
246 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 have the assurance to tell the chevalier 
 Bayard and the other French officers, that 
 I do not require their services, and they 
 may be gone. They are twice as strong as 
 I am here. They will take time to inform 
 the king or his lieutenant-general the grand 
 master of Chaumont, and if in waiting for 
 their orders, they should happen to discover 
 my intelligence with the Pope, they will 
 be right in treating me as a faithless enemy. 
 But, seigneur Guerlo, you know the Pope 
 to be a terrible man, passionate and re- 
 vengeful ; he has said one thing to you, 
 while perhaps he has been thinking of an- 
 other, and he is quite capable of repaying 
 you ill for your services. Besides this he 
 is mortal, and once dead, what a recom- 
 pence might you expect from his succes- 
 sor ? Are you ignorant that in that court, 
 gratitude for services does not pass from 
 one Pope to another? You know that I 
 can be of service to you, and I give you 
 my word to act with such generosity that 
 you shall be a rich man all your life, if you 
 will only assist me in getting rid of my 
 enemy." Guerlo had a soul too base and 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 247 
 
 too selfish not to surrender upon such 
 conditions ; he assured the Princ£ that he 
 had long wished to quit the Pope's service 
 for his, and that no one was more able to 
 do that which he desired, being with the 
 Pope night and day ; waiting upon him at 
 table, and being so much in his confidence 
 that they used to converse together on the 
 most secret affairs. " So, my Lord," said 
 he, " if you wish to agree handsomely with 
 me, within eight days he shall not be alive, 
 and I do not ask for any reward until he is 
 dead ; but I must have your word abso- 
 lutely pledged." The Duke, who had al- 
 ready given him his promise, now con- 
 firmed it, on his word of honour, to bestow 
 two thousand ducats in hand, besides a 
 yearly income of five hundred. The treaty 
 was no sooner finished than the Duke left 
 him to inform Bayard. He met him upon 
 the ramparts, and having drawn him aside, 
 he said, " you know that deceivers and 
 traitors often fall into their own snares. 
 You and I, and all the French shall be soon 
 revenged on our enemy. I have gained the 
 Pope's commissioner, and I have his word 
 m 4 
 
248 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 that his master will be dead within eight 
 days." " How is that?" cried Bayard! 
 " Does this man dive into the secrets of 
 Providence to predict events of life and 
 death?" " Do not trouble yourself," re- 
 plied the Duke, " I am well assured of 
 what I tell you." Bayard had too pure a 
 heart to suspect what was the fact; but 
 when he discovered that Guerlo was to 
 poison the Pope, he shuddered, and with 
 energy he expressed his astonishment to 
 the Duke at a scheme which was unworthy 
 of a Prince ; and he said, that if he could 
 think that it was true, he would inform the 
 Pope that very day. The Duke justified 
 himself on the ground that Julius had laid 
 a treacherous plot for them both, and that 
 he was informed that his spies had been 
 lately discovered and hanged, v It does 
 not matter," said Bayard, " I will never 
 consent that he should perish in that man- 
 ner." The Duke replied, " that he should 
 wish to do as much for all his enemies ; 
 but," he added, " since you resist, it shall 
 come to nothing. Nevertheless, if God 
 does not assist us, I promise you we shall 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 249 
 
 both have time to repent it." '* I hope 
 not," replied Bayard, " and if you will but 
 deliver to me ? le galand qui veut faire ce 
 chef-d'oeuvre/ he shall not have one hour 
 before he is hanged." The Duke, who had 
 pledged his word for the safety of Guerlo's 
 person, insisted upon affording him a secure 
 retreat ; but the wretch was shortly after- 
 wards hanged at Brescia for another crime. 
 Thus, says M. De Berville, Bayard who 
 had defeated the projects of the Pope 
 against the Duke, and those of the Duke 
 against the Pope, saved the life of one, and 
 the estates and honour of the other. This 
 is at once a frightful, an instructive, and 
 an animating narrative. The contrast be- 
 tween the man of false honour whose lan- 
 guage and professions are hardly to be 
 distinguished from those of the hero, and 
 the character of real and sterling virtue, 
 cannot be too well remembered. Words 
 are deceitful, and high professions but of 
 little value ; and they that are the loudest 
 in boasting of their honour, may be among 
 the vilest and most worthless of mankind. 
 How affecting and how characteristic of the 
 m 5 
 
250 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 hero and the Christian, are the words of 
 King Henry V, to the traitor knights ? 
 
 " Oh, how hast thou with jealousy infected 
 The sweetness of affiance > shew men dutiful ? 
 Why, so didst thou : seem they grave and learned ? 
 Why, so didst thou : come they of noble family ? 
 Why, so didst thou : seem they religious ? 
 Why, so didst thou : 
 
 And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot 
 
 To mark the full-fraught men, the best endu'd 
 
 With some suspicion. I will weep for thee *." 
 
 Still, however, it would be as ridiculous 
 as it would be base and wicked, to suspect 
 the reality of what is thought admirable 
 among men. It was " in his haste," that 
 the Psalmist had said, * all men are liars." 
 Still is there truth and virtue, honour and 
 religion left in the world, and he that 
 would argue from such instances against 
 the reality of their existence, will only be- 
 tray the conscious failings of his own mis- 
 giving heart. 
 
 While the sentiments of high honour are 
 thus exercised to preserve the lives and for- 
 tunes of other men, they will be found to 
 
 * Henry V. Act II. Scene 2. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 251 
 
 operate in a manner equally as admirable 
 in promoting the interest and safety of the 
 individual himself who possesses them. 
 This will best be understood by referring 
 to a most singular anecdote which is re- 
 lated by Lord Clarendon. " The Lord 
 Digby, at the commencement of the civil 
 war, when proceeding to Holland upon the 
 king's service, was taken by the enemy 
 and brought prisoner with the other pas- 
 sengers into Hull, which was then in re- 
 bellion under the command of Sir John 
 Hotham. The Lord Digby being in dis- 
 guise, and speaking French as a native, 
 was considered as some wandering French- 
 man, and left under a guard in some ob- 
 scure corner, whilst his companion, Colonel 
 Ashburnham, was regarded as the only pri- 
 soner of consequence, and conducted with- 
 out delay to the governor. The situation 
 of the Lord Digby was however desperate, 
 since he was well known to many persons 
 in the town ; and when it was considered 
 that he was the most odious man of the 
 kingdom to the parliament. However, in 
 this eminent extremity, he resolved not to 
 m 6 
 
252 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 give himself over, and found means to 
 make one of his guard in broken English, 
 which might well have become any French- 
 man, understand 6 that he desired to speak 
 privately with the governor/ He was ac- 
 cordingly brought before him in the pre- 
 sence of much company, when he gave an 
 account of himself, as having seen muqh of 
 the French service, and as having come 
 over recommended to the king for some 
 command. After he had entertained the 
 company with such discourse, he applied 
 himself to the governor, and told him ' that 
 if he might be admitted to privacy with 
 him, he would discover somewhat to him 
 which he would not repent to have known.* 
 The governor drew him to a great window 
 at a convenient distance from the company, 
 and wished him to say what he thought fit. 
 The Lord Digby asked him, in English, 
 f whether he knew him V the other, sur- 
 prised, told him ' no * then/ said he, t I 
 shall try whether I know Sir John Hotham, 
 and whether he be, in truth, the same man 
 of honour I have always taken him to be/ 
 and, thereupon, told him who he was ; 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 26S 
 
 and ? that he hoped he was too much a 
 gentleman to deliver him up a sacrifice to 
 their rage and fury, who, he well knew were 
 his implacable enemies.' The other, being 
 astonished, and fearing that the by-standers 
 would discover him too, (for, being now 
 told who he was, he wondered he found it 
 not out himself,) he desired him ' to say 
 no more for the present; that he should 
 not be sorry for the trust he reposed in 
 him, and should find him the same man he 
 had thought him : in the mean time that 
 he must be content to be treated as a pri- 
 soner : and so he called the guard instantly 
 to carry him away. He then explained to 
 the company, with some confusion, that 
 the fellow had told him something which 
 the parliament would be glad to know, and 
 so departed to his chamber. ' Hotham/ 
 says Lord Clarendon, * was, by his nature 
 and education, a rough and rude man ; of 
 great covetousness, of great pride, and 
 great ambition ; without any bowels of 
 good nature, or the least sense or touch of 
 generosity \ his parts were not quick and 
 
254 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sharp, but composed, and he judged well ; 
 he was a man of craft, and more like to 
 deceive than to be cozened ; yet after all 
 this, this young nobleman, known and ab- 
 horred by him, had so far prevailed and 
 imposed upon his spirit, that he resolved 
 to practice that virtue which the other had 
 imputed to him ; and not to suffer him to 
 fall into the hands of his enemies ; and so 
 he contrived to have the Lord Digby pri- 
 vately conducted out of the town, beyond 
 the limits of danger/ To us who are con- 
 versant with the deeds of chivalry, and the 
 sentiments of honour, nothing can be more 
 striking than the accounts which are given 
 of actions where this generous spirit was 
 unknown. Thus we read in the history of 
 the Saracens, during the war in Syria, of 
 a combat between Serjabil Ebu Shahhnah 
 and a Christian officer. The infidels per- 
 ceiving that their champion was in danger, 
 from the superior skill and firmness of 
 his foe, had recourse to a deed of black 
 treachery. k Derar seized his dagger, and 
 while the combatants were involved in dust, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 255 
 
 came behind the Christian and stabbed 
 him to the heart. The Saracens gave Derar 
 thanks for his service ; but he said that he 
 would receive no thanks but from God. 
 Upon this there arose a difference between 
 Serjabil and Derar concerning the spoil of 
 this officer. Derar claimed it, as being the 
 person that killed him. Serjabil, as having 
 engaged him, and tired him out first. The 
 matter being referred to Abu Obeidah, he 
 proposed the case to the Caliph, (one of 
 their best princes, whose virtues are ex- 
 tolled even by Christian writers,) who sent 
 him word, that the spoil of any enemy was 
 due to him that killed him ; upon which 
 Abu Obediah took it from Serjabil, and 
 adjudged it to Derar. Joinville also relates 
 an instance of the treachery of the infidels. 
 Five hundred horsemen came to surrender 
 to the French ; the King received and 
 treated them well, but an occasion soon 
 presented itself, when they rose in an in- 
 stant, and fell with fury upon the Tem- 
 plars. 
 
 There is no duty inculcated by our reli- 
 
256 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 gion which is so generally regarded as in- 
 consistent with the character of the man of 
 honour, as that of forgiveness and con- 
 descension. " I have known many men," 
 says Brantome in his life of Charles IX., 
 u who never revenged their injuries. The 
 most strict and reformed Christians, praise 
 them for this, and assert that it is right to 
 forget offences according to the word of 
 God. That may well become Hermits and 
 Franciscans, but not those who make 
 profession of true nobility, of carrying a 
 sword by their side, and their honour on 
 the point. Unless indeed they hang a cru- 
 cifix from their bed, and absolutely enter 
 some religious order, as many have done, 
 and have been therefore excused by this 
 good cloak of devotion." Certainly this 
 is the language of the world, and it would 
 appear that it was the sentiment of uncor- 
 rected nature. Storza, the African rebel, 
 fell in a single combat before the gates of 
 Carthage ; but he smiled in the agonies of 
 death, when he was informed that his own 
 javelin had reached the heart of his anta- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 257 
 
 gonist. And Crebillon seems to express the 
 feelings which are common to human na- 
 ture, when he makes A tree exclaim ; 
 
 " Un ennemi qui peut pardonner une offense, 
 Ou manque de courage, ou manque du puissance 
 
 But it will not be difficult to prove that 
 the opinion of the vulgar class of mankind, 
 in this as in almost every other particular, 
 is founded upon a mistake, and that the 
 difficulty of the virtue only renders it more 
 noble. For though it be the coat-armour 
 pertaining to a right ancient family, to 
 bear three dexter arms and hands conjoined 
 and clenched, to signify a treble offer of 
 revenge for some injury done to a former 
 bearer, yet still, as Juvenal saith, 
 
 Infirmi est animi exiguique voluptas ultio. 
 
 Which is the dictate even of natural reli- 
 
 * Ik yap evrvxovg 
 
 "Rdurrov h%Qpov avdpa SvgtvxovvO' opqv. 
 Says the messenger in the play. Eurip. Heracl. 934. 
 But Thucydides has expressed it in still stronger 
 terms. 'Avn Ti\utipr\vaa%ai tb riva irtpi ttKuovoq 7\v y tj 
 avrov firj irpoiraQeiv, iii. 82. Yet this is adduced by 
 the great historian as an evidence of the extreme eor~ 
 ruption consequent upon civil war. 
 
258 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 gion and magninimity, as may be learned 
 also from the answer of the Emperor Adrian 
 to the man who had given him offence 
 before his accession, " Approach, you have 
 nothing to fear from me, I am emperor." 
 And from the argument by which Phoenix 
 endeavours to persuade Achilles, 
 
 'AXX', 'A%iXfv, dafia<rov Svfiov [leyav sde ri ffe %p?j 
 IXrjXseg r/rop ex eiv ' vrpETTTOi 8e kcli Seoi avroi, 
 
 TtOV 7T£p KCLI fl£l%U)V apiTfJy Ttflt] T£, f3t,T) TS. 
 
 Philip-le-Bel replied to his courtiers, who 
 were exciting him to punish a Prelate who 
 was obnoxious, " Je sais que je puis me 
 venger ; mais il est beau de le pouvoir et 
 de ne le pas faire." The saying of Des- 
 cartes is very admirable, u quand on me 
 fait line injure je tache d'elever mon ame si 
 haut que Toffense ne parvienne pas jusqu* 
 a moi." Richard of England, Cceur de 
 Lion, was mortally wounded before the 
 castle of Chalons by an arrow shot from the 
 walls. The castle was taken by assault, 
 and the archer who had wounded the king 
 was conducted into his presence. " Mal- 
 heureux," said the king, " que t'avois-je 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 259 
 
 fait pour t'obliger a me donner la mort? 
 " Ce que tu m'as fait," replied the prisoner, 
 (< je vais te le dire, sans aucune crainte des 
 horribles tourmens que tu me prepares. 
 Je les souffriroi avec joie, puisque j'ai ete 
 assez heureux pour venger la mort de mon 
 pere et de mes freres que tu as tues de ta 
 propre main." Richard was of a temper 
 so prone to fury and excitement, that when 
 delivered from prison, the French king 
 wrote to his brother John, " Prenez garde 
 a vous, le diable est d6chaine." This lion- 
 hearted warrior was now bleeding from the 
 wound which in a few hours was to deprive 
 him of his kingdom and his life, and the 
 man who had inflicted it was before him 
 and in his power ; but at this moment 
 religion had an authority to which he sub- 
 mitted. His anger instantly passed over, 
 and he said to the prisoner, " mon ami, je 
 te pardonne." He then ordered his chains 
 to be taken off, and that he should have 
 liberty to depart. The words of Henry the 
 Fourth of France, to Schomberg, on the 
 morning of the battle of Ivri, are well 
 known ; and the last sentence of Louis the 
 
260 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Sixteenth, upon the scaffold, is for ever 
 memorable, " I forgive my enemies." These 
 are the examples of a hero, and of a reli- 
 gious monarch ; and if it be true what has 
 been said by Mr. Gibbon, that " it is more 
 easy to forgive four hundred and ninety 
 times, than once to ask pardon of an in- 
 ferior," these instances will serve to shew 
 that it was the hero and not the saint who 
 made the greatest sacrifice of feeling to the 
 duty of his religion. The anecdote of 
 Henry IV., to which I allude, is so well 
 known, that I refrain from relating it at 
 length. It is sufficient to observe, that 
 the king was troubled by the reflection 
 that he had uttered reproachful words 
 against a brave, deserving officer, the Ger- 
 man general Schomberg. They had been 
 uttered in a moment of impatience and 
 anxiety ; but the remembrance was a weight 
 upon his spirits. Immediately before the 
 commencement of the battle, Henry rode 
 up to the general : he stated what were his 
 feelings, that there was a possibility of his 
 not surviving the day, and that he should 
 be sorry to die without making amends to 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 261 
 
 a brave gentleman whose honour he had 
 injured. He concluded with an entreaty 
 to be forgiven : " Je vous prie de me par- 
 donner." What words for a king to utter ! 
 " II est vrai Sire," replied the generous 
 and gallant soldier, " que votre majeste 
 me blessa Tautre jour, mais aujourd'hui 
 elle me tue ; car Thonneur qu'elle me fait 
 m'oblige de mourir en cette occasion pour 
 son service." He was killed, fighting by 
 the side of his master. In the Romance 
 of Huon of Bordeaux, when that hero la- 
 ments the malice which has banished him 
 from France, he apostrophises his country, 
 and exclaims, u Je prie nostre Seigneur 
 Jesu Christ que le pardon vous en fasse 
 and when he confesses himself to Oberon 
 the dwarf, he says, " Sire, sgachez qu'au 
 mieux que j 'ay peu me suis confesse de tous 
 mes pechez,je suis repentant et dolentque 
 tant en ay fait, et ne sgay homme vivant a 
 qui je ne pardonne, quelque injure qu'il 
 m'aye fait, aussi je ne sens que a nul aye 
 fait tort, et ne hays aujourd'huy homme 
 qui vive." 
 
262 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 But the sphere of this virtue is far from 
 being confined to the limit of forgiving 
 our own enemies. Louis IX., the model 
 of every excellence, will teach us to under- 
 stand better the duties and obligation of 
 our religion. This admirable king was 
 continually labouring to promote peace 
 between his subjects. His personal exer- 
 tion prevented a combat between Hugue 
 Comte de la Marche and the Vicomte de 
 Limoges. He sent the most able of his 
 ministers into Burgundy, to reconcile the 
 Comte de Chalons and the Comte de Bour- 
 goyne, who were at war. He had the hap- 
 piness of succeeding. He also reconciled 
 them to Thibaut V., King of Navarre. The 
 Comte Thibaut de Bar had taken prisoner 
 the Comte de Luxembourg, in a combat 
 near Pigney. Louis dispatched his cham- 
 berlain Perron, in whom he chiefly con- 
 fided, who contrived completely to recon- 
 cile these two enemies. A cruel division 
 had long subsisted between the Dampierres 
 and the Avenes, children of Marguerite, 
 Countess of Flanders. Louis had laboured 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 263 
 
 with all imaginable diligence to put an 
 end to this, and he at length succeeded. 
 The religious monarch had the happiness 
 also of reconciling the Comte d'Anjou with 
 the Comtesse dowager of Provence. The 
 ministers of the pacific king " lereprenoient 
 aucune fois," says Joinville, " de ce qu'il 
 prenoit si grande peine a appaiser les 
 etrangers. C'etoit a leur avis, tres-mal 
 faire que de ne pas les laisser guerroyer, 
 parce que les appointemens s'en feroient 
 mieux apres," but Louis, always guided 
 by the maxims of the Gospel, replied with 
 Jesus Christ, " blessed are the peace- 
 makers." Let it be remembered also that 
 even the heroes of the Iliad did not dis- 
 dain to exert their influence in reconciling 
 enemies. With what affecting eloquence 
 does Nestor address himself for this pur- 
 pose to Achilles and Agamemnon ! 
 
 Arpeidi], <rv $e wave reov pevoQ* avrap cywye 
 
 And how well might a Christian warrior 
 adopt the resolution and even the very 
 words of Patroclus when he said, 
 
261 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ^ntvaonai kg *Ax^v a > — — 
 
 Tig d* old* elicev oi, <rvv daifiovi, Svpov opivut 
 Uapenriov ; ayaOt) de irapaupcHJig kariv eraipa. 
 
 It is not the success or utility of a mea- 
 sure that should determine its expediency. 
 The expression of Francis the First of 
 France, is for ever memorable. u Tout est 
 perdu hormis l'honneur," or as it is ex- 
 pressed by Dryden ; 
 
 " Unsham'd though foil'd, he does the best he can, 
 Force is of brutes, but honour is of man." 
 
 And this was the established principle 
 among the Greeks, as is affirmed by De- 
 mosthenes with all the pomp of his match- 
 less eloquence : 
 
 GGC6G& TlfJLW, 80a\J"SV, «%* T8S" XCZTOgQcd GOlVTXf 
 
 avrcov, «5s T«r ytparnGocvroLS (mows* $i>ca*cys\ h 
 fABV yaq riv av5g<wv ocyoiQcov sgyov, imoLGi TtEWQaxraP 
 
 But we are still to pursue the subject of 
 the strict honour and delicacy which were 
 
 * De Corona. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 26o 
 
 required by the laws of chivalry. A re- 
 markable example is presented in the deli- 
 very of Du Gueselin from confinement by 
 our Black Prince. The constable had 
 made some remark on the fear which the 
 English seemed to entertain of his valour, 
 by their continuing to hold him prisoner. 
 Upon which the Prince said hastily, " far 
 from it, you have only to pay 100,000 franks 
 and you shall be free," to which, Du Gue- 
 selin taking him at his word, made answer, 
 " Sir, in the name of God, so be it. I wyll 
 pay no lesse." " And when the Prince 
 heard him say so," Froissart observes, " he 
 wolde then gladly have repented hymselfe : 
 and also some of his counsayle came to 
 him and sayd, 6 Sir, ye have not done well, 
 so lightly to put him to his ransome :' and 
 so they wolde gladly have caused the 
 prince to have revoked that covenant ; but 
 the Prince, who was a true and a noble 
 knight, sayd, sythe that we have agreed 
 thereto, we wyll not breke our promysse # ." 
 
 * Mr. C i, from whom I was purchasing an ex- 
 pensive engraving, had hastily stated its value. Upon 
 examination he found that it was worth three times 
 N 
 
266 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Froissart relates how the young Earl of 
 Saint Poule continued for a long time a 
 prisoner in England, « in the fayre castell 
 of Wynsore : and he had so curtesse a 
 kepar that he might go and sport him a 
 haukyng betwene Wynsore and Westmins- 
 ter : he was beleved on his faythe. The 
 same season the princess, mother to kyng 
 
 the sum, but he persisted, in spite of remonstrance, in 
 declining to receive a shilling more than he had first 
 specified. The spirit of chivalry has ennobled many 
 men who never pretended to its titles and rank. When 
 Sir Raymon of Marnell was on his journey from Paris, 
 he fell among a band of English, led by a knight of 
 Poyton, and so he was taken prisoner and brought to 
 the said knight's castle. This knight, Sir Geoffrey 
 Dargenton, was about to deliver him to the king of 
 England, who had written expressly to desire him ; 
 Sir Raymon justly alarmed, discovered his sorrow to 
 his keeper who was an Englishman, to whom he pro- 
 mised " on his faythe and trouthe," the half of all bis 
 lands. The keeper, who was a poor man, had compassion 
 on him, and delivered him from the tower, making his 
 escape at the same time. " And Sir Raymon," says 
 Froissart, " wolde have delyvered to hym the one half 
 of his herytage, accordynge as he hadpromysed to him 
 before, but the Englisshe squyer wolde in no wyse take 
 so moche : and so he took all only but CCII of yerely 
 revenues, sayinge it was sufficient for hym to mayn- 
 teyne therwith his estate." 
 
 8 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 267 
 
 Richarde, lay at Wynsore, and her daugh- 
 ter with her, my Lady Maude, the fayrest 
 lady in all Englande : therl of Saynte Poule 
 and this young lady were in true amours 
 togyder eche of other, and somtyme they 
 met togyder, at daunsynge and carollyng ; 
 tyll at last it was spied ; and then the lady 
 discovered to her mother howe she loved 
 faithfully the young erle of Saint Poule : 
 then ther was a marryage spoken of by- 
 twene therle and the lady Maude, and so 
 therle was set to his ransome to pay six 
 score M franks, so that when he had mar- 
 ryed the lady Maude then to be rebated 
 threescore thousande and the other three- 
 score M to pay. And when this covynant 
 of marryage was made bytwene therle and 
 the lady, the kynge of Englande suffered 
 therle to repasse the sea to fetche his raun- 
 some, on his only promyse to retourne 
 agayne within a yere after." The king of 
 France detained him in prison on a false 
 charge for a long time, but at length he 
 was delivered, and then the young Earl re- 
 turned to England and wedded the lady, 
 and so he and the countess his wife went 
 n 2 
 
268 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 to live in the castle of Han, on the river 
 Ewre. 
 
 At the siege of Bayonne, when the go- 
 vernor was on the walls in treaty with the 
 English general, there was an alarm sounded 
 within the city. The governor accused the 
 general of an attempt to surprise him. The 
 English protested their innocence, and sug- 
 gested that it must arise from an incursion 
 of their German allies, and proposed to en- 
 ter the city with the governor's permission, 
 and chase them out, after which they pro- 
 mised to return before the walls and finish 
 the treaty. The governor consented. The 
 gates were thrown open to the English, 
 who rushed in and delivered the city from 
 their barbarous companions, and having 
 driven them out at an opposite gate, they 
 proceeded to resume their former position, 
 and to finish the treaty with the governor. 
 
 After the battle of Poictiers, the Eng- 
 lish and Gascon knights questioned their 
 prisoners, upon their honour, as to what 
 ransom they could pay without inconve- 
 nience ; and they trusted to their state- 
 ment. " If these springs of action," says 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 269 
 
 Mr. Hallam, " are less generally beneficial, 
 they are however more connected with ele- 
 vated character than the systematic pru- 
 dence of men accustomed to social life/' 
 The question of King Henry the Eighth's 
 divorce from Queen Catherine, and the 
 subsequent measures relating to the pro- 
 position of the king's spiritual supremacy, 
 gave occasion to a display of virtue and in- 
 trepidity, not to be surpassed by any ex- 
 amples on the page of history. The names 
 of Reginald Pole, of Sir Thomas More, 
 and of Bishop Fisher, will be dear and ve- 
 nerable as long as the sacrifice of worldly 
 interest and life itself to the dictates of 
 justice and honour shall have a claim on 
 the reverence of mankind. But, besides 
 these striking examples, delivered in de- 
 tail, history will sometimes afford evidence 
 of eminent virtue which produces a new 
 and powerful effect upon the mind, from 
 the indirect manner in which it is brought 
 forward. Thus by many writers the mur- 
 der of the Duke of Suffolk in the reign of 
 Henry VI. has been attributed to the policy 
 of the Duke of York, who deemed it ne- 
 N 3 
 
270 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 cessary to remove so faithful a minister, 
 before he should openly take any measures 
 to place himself on the throne, and a simi- 
 lar hypothesis is certainly true in account- 
 ing for the arrest and murder of the adhe- 
 rents of Edward V. The Earl Rivers, the 
 Lord Gray, Sir Thomas Vaughan, and Sir 
 Richard Hawse, who were beheaded in 
 Pontefract castle, the Lords Hastings and 
 Stanley, with the prelates of York and 
 Ely, who were arrested at the Council in 
 the Tower, whence Hastings was led to 
 instant execution. I need j^iot multiply 
 instances which will abundantly present 
 themselves to the recollection of the reader. 
 
 Cardinal Richelieu took pains to prevail 
 upon Gassion, a brave officer, to act as a 
 spy towards the Count de Soissons. This 
 would have been a step to certain ad- 
 vancement; but the man of honour was 
 above the bribe. " Je ne puis vous rien 
 donner de plus que ma vie. Je la perdrai 
 volontiers pour le service de votre emineau ; 
 mais il ne m'est pas possible de lui sacri- 
 fier mon honneur." Equally memorable is 
 the reply of the Vjscomte d'Orthe, Mayor 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 271 
 
 * of Bayonne, to the execrable circular order 
 of Charles the Ninth. **■ J'ai communique 
 le commandement de votre M. a ses fideles 
 habitans et gens de la garrison. Je n'y ai 
 trouve que bons citoyens et fermes soldats 
 mais pas un bourreau." Nor must we omit, 
 while we are upon the subject, to remark 
 the answer of Jacques de la Vacquiere, 
 head of the French Parliament, who went 
 with its other deputies to return the edicts 
 which they could not conscientiously sign. 
 The enraged king, Louis XL, demanded' 
 what they desired ; but the presence of the 
 tyrant did not overcome their virtue. The 
 reply was instant : " La perte de nos 
 charges on meme la mort plutot que de 
 trahir nos consciences." These are pas- 
 sages of history, well known indeed, but 
 which cannot be too often repeated, for 
 they have a tendency to elevate our senti- 
 ments and to develope the finest feelings 
 of our nature # . Cicero has observed this 
 
 * Thus for example, it is impossible to read the 
 speech of Menelaus to Agamemnon in the Iphigenia 
 of Euripides without benefit, such as can hardly be 
 appreciated both to the mind and to the heart. — Eurip. 
 Iph. in Aulid. 463. 
 
 N4 
 
272 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 advantage to the cause of virtue : " Sumus 
 enim natura, ut ante dixi (dicendum est 
 enim saepius) studiosissimi appetentissi- 
 mique honestatis : cujus si quasi lumen 
 aliquod aspexerimus, nihil est, quod, ut eo 
 potiamur, non parati simus et ferre, et 
 perpeti # ." It is a grand saying of Mon- 
 tague, and admirably characteristic, " On 
 me garotte plus doucement par un notaire 
 que par moy-mesme — j'aymeroy bien plus 
 cher, rompre la prison d'une muraiHe et 
 des loix que de ma parole." This is the 
 spirit of all gentlemen — 
 
 " Saturni gentem baud vinclo nec legibus aequani 
 Sponte sua veterisque Dei se more tenentem f 
 
 • 
 
 When Scipio was called upon to deliver 
 up an account of the money which he had 
 received and expended in the province of 
 Antioch, he came into the senate and pro- 
 duced the book from under his robe, which 
 contained, he said, the exact account of 
 the whole ; but when they desired him to 
 deliver it, he refused with dignity, saying, 
 that he would not so dishonour himself ; 
 
 Tuscul. ii. 24. 
 
 f ^Eneid. vii. 200. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 273 
 
 and with his own hands, and in the pre- 
 sence of the senate, he tore the book to 
 pieces. Thus the hero in a famous tragedy 
 exclaims : 
 
 " Ce n'est point moi : ce mot doit vous suffire ; 
 C'est aux hommes communs, aux ames ordinaires 
 A se justifier par des moyens vulgaircs, 
 Mais un prince, un guerrier,tel que vous tel que moi, 
 Quand il a dit un mot, en est cru sur sa foix. 
 Mais c'est trop me defendre, et trop m'humilier 
 La vertu s'avilit, a se justifier." 
 
 Thus the Duke of Buckingham refused 
 to solicit mercy, which would have saved 
 his life, when the Duke of Norfolk in tears 
 informed him that he had been found guilty, 
 and pronounced sentence of death, Buck- 
 ingham replied with a firm voice, " my 
 Lord of Norfolk, you have said to me as a 
 traitor should be said unto. But I was 
 never none. Still, my Lords, I nothing 
 malign you for that you have done unto 
 me. May the eternal God forgive you my 
 death as I do. I shall never sue to the 
 king for life, howbeit he is a gracious 
 Prince, and more grace may come from 
 him than I deserve ; I desire you, my Lords, 
 n 5 
 
274 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and all my fellows, to pray for me." He 
 persisted in his resolution not to solicit 
 mercy # , and was beheaded on Tower Hill, 
 amidst the groans and lamentations of the 
 spectators. " God have mercy on his soul," 
 says the reporter of his trial, " for he was 
 a most wise and noble prince, and the mir- 
 ror of all courtesy." 
 
 All these, and a thousand instances 
 which I might produce, indicate that gran- 
 deur of soul which every gentleman should 
 cultivate. There are, indeed, occasions 
 when it will induce him to adopt a conduct 
 which might seem at first to be contrary to 
 the charity of our religion, but it will be 
 only in appearance and at the first ; for, to 
 illustrate my meaning by an example : 
 
 « Disgust concealed 
 
 Is oft-times proof of wisdom, when the fault 
 Is obstinate, and cure beyond our reach." 
 
 Nay, may we not even repeat the Poet's 
 
 * The grandeur of this resolution depended on the 
 character of the King and the innocence of the Duke. 
 For in the case of Biron, who refused to accept the 
 mercy of Henry IV. the same resolution under the dif- 
 ferent circumstances of this case, argued a want of 
 generosity and nobleness of soul. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 275 
 
 words concerning the vulgar class of man- 
 kind? that 
 
 « All are not fit with them to stir and toil, 
 Nor is it discontent to keep the mind 
 Deep in its fountain, lest it overboil 
 In the hot throng, when we become the spoil 
 Of our infection, till too late and long 
 We may deplore and struggle with the coil 
 In wretched interchange of wrong for wrong, 
 Midst a contentious world, striving where none are 
 strong." 
 
 And again, it can never be expected that 
 the man of religion and virtue should be 
 the voluntary sport of every trifling and 
 unprincipled enquirer who may desire to 
 exercise his patience. Are there not men 
 of whom the Poet says — 
 
 " Whose only care, might truth presume to speak 
 Is not to find what they profess to seek ?" 
 
 " C'est un triste emploi pour rinnocence," 
 says Sully upon occasion of his own dis- 
 grace, " que d'avoir sans cesse a se pro- 
 duire et a se preconiser elle meme." He 
 might have added, it is an unworthy em- 
 ployment. Surely if as he affirms, the man 
 of virtue will experience on a thousand 
 n 6 
 
276 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 occasions, that without chance and industry 
 co-operating^ his virtue will not be suffi- 
 cient to save him from hatred and public 
 contempt, he may be allowed to dispense 
 with a motive so replete with uncertainty 
 and degradation. I am, therefore, far from 
 holding that we are always and upon every 
 subject to correct the errors of men. The 
 English press at this moment teems with 
 falsehood and misrepresentation, while it 
 professes to be moved with a zeal for virtue, 
 but will a gentleman condescend or will 
 any moralist prescribe it as a duty, to re- 
 move the ignorance or to satisfy the doubts 
 of the sullen, discontented, and suspicious 
 class of men who are governed by it ? — 
 who take a pleasure in believing the worst, 
 and in being deceived ? The Holy Scrip- 
 ture records, that men of old were visited 
 from God with a strong delusion *? that 
 they should believe a lie," and we know 
 what he obtained who once demanded 
 " what is truth ?f 
 
 " 'Thus Pilate's question put 
 
 To truth itself, that deign'd him no reply.'* 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 277 
 
 Another peculiar feature which distin- 
 guished the chivalrous character, was its 
 independance. To ask a favour was not 
 to pursue a laudable plan for our own ad- 
 vancement, to solicit interest, to remind 
 the rich and powerful of our merit was not 
 a prudent conformity to general custom. 
 These were measures, the baseness of which 
 our ancestors had not learned to disguise. 
 Their feeling was natural and just. " Mo- 
 lestum verbum est, onerosum, et demisso 
 vultu dicendam, rogo." " Ceux qui sont 
 nez pour meriter les graces," says a French 
 writer # , " ne sont pas faits pour les deman- 
 der." The conduct of those who had it in 
 their power to advance the deserving youth, 
 dispensed with such a sacrifice of virtue. 
 Their maxim of liberality was precisely si- 
 milar to that inculcated by Senecaf. " Sero 
 beneficium dedit, qui roganti dedit." J It 
 
 * L'Abbe de Can aye. 
 
 f De Beneficiis, lib. xi. 2. 
 
 I Yet the custom of the court was otherwise. " S'il 
 est paresseux et nonchalant d'avoir prouffit," says 
 Alain Chartiers, of the gentlemen at court, " il sera 
 laiss6 avoir souffrete. Car s'il ne S9ait ou ne veut reins 
 
278 THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 
 
 is a fine answer which is recorded of Char- 
 lemagne, when the traitor Ganelon, in an 
 old romance, desired him to take the horse 
 upon which young Galien was mounted, 
 saying, that it was the finest in the world, 
 to which the Emperor replied, " II convient 
 mieux a Galien qu'a moi." In that curious 
 little book in Latin, by his secretary Egin- 
 hard, the reader will find many very inte- 
 resting particulars respecting his private 
 life : but every thing connected with Char- 
 lemagne partakes of his grandeur. The 
 writer of these sheets has never experienced 
 an hour of greater interest than that which 
 he spent in the cathedral of Aix la Cha- 
 pelle, pacing the solemn aisles of that an- 
 cient church, and gazing upon the stone 
 which marks the spot where the ashes of 
 the hero lay # . The King of Prussia was 
 at Aix at this time, and he devoted a cer- 
 
 demander, aussi ne trouvera il qui riens luy donne. 
 S'il y entre importunement les importuneux le ,re- 
 bouteront." — Le Curial. 
 
 * He was buried in his imperial robes, with his 
 book of the Gospels placed upon his knees. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 279 
 
 tain portion of the day to solemn medita- 
 tion in this church. He chose an interval 
 when the doors were closed, and his person 
 being unknown to the verger who admitted 
 him, he was permitted as a common stranger 
 to enjoy, what a monarch perhaps can 
 only find in the sanctuary of God, silence 
 and peace. 
 
 In the order of knighthood translated 
 by Mr. Way, the new-made knight is thus 
 instructed to say, 
 
 " Still to the truth direct thy strong desire, 
 And flee the very air where dwells a liar." 
 
 Thus also when Sir Bourbon says, in 
 Spenser, 
 
 " To temporize is not from truth to swerve, 
 Ne for advantage term to entertain, 
 Whereas necessity doth it constrain. 
 Fie on such forgery, said Arthegall, 
 Under one hood to shadow faces twain, 
 Knights ought be true, and truth is one in all, 
 Of all things to dissemble fouly may befall." 
 
 As Achilles says to Ulysses in those well- 
 known lines, 
 
 Exfyoc yap fioi Keivog, b^wg aXSao irvkyaiv 
 "Qq x sTepov per KevQti hi (pptviv, dWo 6e Ba£a, 
 
280 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 When I was at the University there oc- 
 curred an incident which I am happy to 
 relate in this place, as affording an ex- 
 ample of that high sensibility to the base- 
 ness of deceit, which has been the pride 
 of chivalry in all ages. A gentleman of 
 ancient family, who at that time dis- 
 charged the duties of a painful but honour- 
 able office, had occasion to demand the 
 name and college of a person whom he 
 perfectly recognized as belonging to his 
 own. The young man gave a false name 
 and address. The other turned from him 
 in disdain, and never condescended to take 
 any notice of his irregularity. This was 
 dignified and truly great. He was the of- 
 ficer of an institution which was concerned 
 with the education of gentlemen ; but here 
 was a hopeless case ; for there were not 
 even the materials out of which the cha- 
 racter of a gentleman could be composed. 
 
 As the chivalrous character possessed 
 virtues which do not belong to the world 
 or to its maxims, so on the other hand, it 
 was without those qualities which the vul- 
 gar class of mankind, however it may be 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 281 
 
 designated, admires as philosophy and 
 virtue, although they are clearly, in the 
 judgment of true reason and Christianity, 
 neither the one nor the other. The knights 
 of old had not learned to sacrifice virtue 
 to refinement, and truth to policy. They 
 did not look with careless indifference 
 upon the distinction of right and wrong, 
 because they were not to feel the effects of 
 either in their private interests. They did 
 not resemble that easy character of whom 
 the Poet speaks : 
 
 " laudat Callistratus omnes. 
 
 Cui malus est nemo, quis bonus esse potest." 
 
 A lukewarm disposition, that was alike 
 indifferent to virtue and vice, was not then 
 philosophic liberality ; and to countenance 
 men of base or doubtful character was not, 
 in their estimation, either dignified mode- 
 ration, or honourable refinement; but they 
 rather resembled those philosophers who 
 esteemed that person as not worthy of the 
 name of man who was incapable of honest 
 anger, and rather than disguise their ab- 
 horrence of evil, they would burn their 
 
282 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 houses to the ground, like the Castilian, 
 and set the world and fortune at defiance. 
 Their sincerity of character induced them 
 always to declare displeasure against who- 
 ever had given them offence. History will 
 furnish many examples like the following : 
 " Most serene and most gracious Prince, 
 Frederic, King of the Romans, I, Henry 
 Mayenberg, make known to your royal 
 grace, that from this time I will no longer 
 obey your grace, &c." Dated at Yders- 
 pewgor, the Wednesday before Palm-Sun- 
 day. Thus Lord Clarendon relates of the 
 Duke of Buckingham, " that he never con- 
 cealed his displeasure, and never endea- 
 voured to do any man an ill office before 
 he first told him what he was to expect 
 from him." And in like manner Tacitus 
 relates of Agricola, " honestius putabat 
 ofFendere, quam odisse," and the principle 
 is laid down expressly by Aristotle in these 
 words, 'Avayxatov &s koci (pave^o/xiffov e!va; xai 
 tpavspotyiXov to ya§ Xav&avsiv tyoQufAevu # . So 
 also the embassadors of the Athenians rea- 
 
 * Ethics, lib. iv. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 283 
 
 soned, saying, ir%os Macro, Ss Jet o5 e%8pov rj 
 (ptXov (xsra, xaiga yiyvsoQai # . It is idle to ob- 
 ject that enmity being contrary to our reli- 
 gion, these lessons are needless, because 
 as long as it becomes Christians to treat 
 good and bad men with a different indica- 
 tion of regard, so long will there never be 
 wanting an occasion upon which we may 
 be required to practise them. 
 
 The saying of the Spartan, who had be- 
 held vice without shame, at Athens, might 
 remind us of our own deceit. He was 
 asked, when he returned home, what he 
 had seen in that city, and what the people 
 were doing? and he replied, ITavTa xaXa 
 — — on TTGcvra. daqm rois 'A&TivaiOtr xaXa voptt- 
 £srat, a«7%§ov S' a Ssv. We should remember 
 also the testimony delivered by the greatest 
 of historians, when he described the cor- 
 ruption of Grecian manners, kou to %vn6ef 9 
 qu to yevvatov TrXetffTov ptsre^st, xarayeXsffSev 
 
 Again, among the virtues of this high 
 order, let us not forget that which is so 
 
 * Thucydides, lib.vi. 
 
 f Ibid. iii. 83. 
 
284 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sacred, loyalty in friendship ; that also of 
 which the annals of chivalry present so 
 many splendid instances : when the Cid 
 was banished from his country and his an- 
 cient house, the wrath of a king was unable 
 to deprive him of his sixty lances, at the 
 head of whom he traversed Burgos in 
 triumph. Henry IV. of France was so in- 
 consistent as to complain of the Count 
 d'Aubigne for evincing his friendship for 
 the Seigneur de la Tremouille, who was 
 exiled from court in disgrace. " Sire/' 
 replied the Count, " M. de la Tremouille 
 est assez malheureux, puisqu'il a perdu la 
 faveur de son maitre ; j'ai cru ne devoir 
 point l'abandonner dans le temps qu'il 
 avoit le plus besoinde mon auntie." When 
 the right hand was once given as a pledge 
 of this connection, it became inviolable. 
 This feeling was admirable, even when it 
 deviated into superstition. Who does not 
 respect that sentiment of the Arcadian 
 king, 
 
 — " Quam petitis, juncta est mihi frodere dextra." 
 But if loyalty was the duty, religion was, 
 to our ancestors, the grounds and the se- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 285 
 
 curity of friendship. Fellowship of this 
 sacred character, between a servant of 
 Christ and an infidel, who despised or de- 
 serted the faith, was an anomaly unknown 
 to these plain men of honour. The reply 
 of Godfrey is for ever memorable. 
 
 t( He knows, who fears no God, he loves no friend V 
 
 Let us take some instances to illustrate 
 the spirit of chivalrous friendship. " I 
 perceive," said Sully to Henry IV., " that 
 your majesty is more pleased with me than 
 you were fifteen days ago." f * Quoi ! vous 
 souvient-il encore de cela," exclaimed this 
 Prince, " O que n'on fait pas a moi. Ne 
 savez-vous pas bien que nos petits depits 
 ne doivent jamais passer les vingt-quatre 
 heures." And upon another occasion, being 
 opposed by his minister, he parted from 
 him in anger, but on the following day he 
 came to visit him, and expressed his wish 
 that Sully would not remember what had 
 passed, concluding with this sentence, so 
 admirably characteristic of the excellence 
 
 * Jerusalem Delivered, Book iv. 
 
286 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 of his judgment, ? des l'heure que vous ne 
 me contredirez plus dans les choses que je 
 sais bien qui ne sont pas de votre gout, je 
 croirai que vous ne m'aimerez plus." 
 
 How true was the friendship which ac- 
 tuated the kinsmen and comrades of Sir 
 Launcelot du Lac ! How striking the gene- 
 rous reply of Sir Bors when he is informed 
 of the hero's misfortunes ! " Sir," sayd 
 Sir Bors, " alle is welcome that God 
 sendeth us, and we have had moche wele 
 with you and moche worshyp, and therfor 
 we wille take the wo with yow as we have 
 taken the wele." The following words of 
 Eginhart exhibit the character of Charle- 
 magne as most amiable and admirable : 
 f* Nunciato etiam sibi Adriani Pontificis 
 obitu quern amicum prsecipuum habebat, 
 sic flerit ac si fratrem aut charissimum 
 filium amisisset. Erat enim in amicities 
 optime temperatus, ut eas et facile admit- 
 teret et constantissime retineret ; colebat- 
 que sanctissime quoscunque hoc affinitate 
 sibi conjunxerat." It was a fine saying of 
 the Greeks, 
 
 XpTjcrrov irpoQ avdpog fxrjhv virovoiu kcikov. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 287 
 
 In like manner we should have the most 
 perfect confidence in the virtue of our 
 friends. A gentleman should be able to 
 answer for his friends as if for himself, he 
 should profess to know what they will do 
 in every circumstance, and he will never 
 be disappointed. Of each of these he can 
 say, in the words of Henry IV., when he 
 presented the Mareschal Biron to the de- 
 puties of the Parliament, " voila un homme 
 que je presente egalement a mes amis et a 
 mes ennemis." 
 
 Loyalty to their king, descending through 
 all the subordinate ranks of society, from 
 the highest class of subjects to the vassal, 
 who was proud of his dependance upon a 
 generous chieftain, was the essential virtue 
 of those ages # . But it was also a virtue 
 
 * The nobles of England are proud to proclaim 
 their loyalty : — 
 
 " Loyaulte n'a honte," is the motto of the Clinton 
 family. The house of Paulet has " aymez loyalte $" 
 of Onslow, " Semper fidelis of Lyttleton, u Une 
 Dieu, une roy." Thus the Chevalier Bayard replied 
 to Pope Julius II. " qu'il n'avoit qu'un maitre au 
 eiel, qui etoit Dieu, et un maitre sur terre, qui etoit le 
 roi de France et qu'il n'en serviroit jamais d'autres." 
 
288 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 which has been displayed by the generous 
 part of mankind in every period and coun- 
 try of the world. Thus when Menelaus 
 threatens with death the messenger of 
 Agamemnon if he does not deliver up the 
 letters with which he was entrusted, this 
 faithful servant triumphantly exclaims, 
 
 'A\X' kvKkeeg toi de<nroTO)v OvrjGKSiv vnep 
 
 Herodotus relates that when Xerxes was 
 returning to Asia in a Phoenician vessel, a 
 dreadful storm arose, so that the pilot de- 
 clared the only chance of safety depended 
 upon lightening the ship. Xerxes hear- 
 ing this opinion, had the baseness to cry 
 out, AvJ§e£ Yl&pcroci, vvv ns SioSs^oltco ufAteuv 
 
 J$0C<7l\v)OS XTjSo/XSVOS* EV V[JLIV yOCQ OIKS SIVOU ZfAOl yi 
 
 scombri. This appeal to the generous feel- 
 ings of human nature was successful, and 
 several of the Persians leaped into the 
 seaf. The apparent incredibility of this 
 relation will be removed upon recollecting 
 the notorious fact, that when the Duke of 
 York, afterwards James II., had entered 
 the boat which was reserved for his escape 
 
 * Iph. in Aulid. 301. 
 
 f Lib. viii. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 28$ 
 
 from the sinking vessel, the crew who re- 
 mained on board, saluted him with cheers 
 as they went down. During* the massacre 
 in the second triumvirate, when freedom 
 was given to slaves who dispatched their 
 masters, one of these faithful men suffered 
 himself to be slain sitting in the litter, that 
 his master might escape as one of the 
 bearers. The famous anecdote of Lucilius 
 will remind us of an event in the history 
 of Italy, which might be selected as a 
 splendid example of chivalrous loyalty. 
 On the descent of Ferdinand upon the 
 coast of Calabria, against the French, who 
 were then in possession of Naples, the 
 Spaniards were defeated, and Ferdinand 
 returned to Messina, after owing his life to 
 the generosity of his page, Giovanni di 
 Capua, brother to the Duke of Termini, 
 who when the horse of the king was slain, 
 gave him up his own, and thereby met 
 with that death which would otherwise 
 have been the fate of his master. Let not 
 the declamations of false patriotism de- 
 prive this virtue of its high value and of 
 its ever honourable renown. " In a moral 
 o 
 
290 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR: 
 
 view/' says Mr. Hallam, " loyalty ha& 
 scarcely perhaps less tendency to refine 
 and elevate the heart than patriotism it- 
 self; and it holds a middle place in the 
 scale of human motives, as they ascend 
 from the grosser inducements of self-inte- 
 rest to the furtherance of general happi- 
 ness, and conformity to the purposes of 
 infinite wisdom." How striking is the anec- 
 dote related by Joinville, as an example of 
 this generous spirit ? When the Sultan re- 
 quired the person of Saint Louis as a hos- 
 tage from the French army, the words were 
 hardly pronounced when " le bon chevalier 
 Messire Geoffrey de Sargines," exclaimed 
 with a furious voice, " on doit assez con- 
 noitre les Frangois, pour les croire prets a 
 souffrir mille morts plutot que de livrer 
 leur prince entre les mains de ses ennemis. 
 lis aimeroient beaucoup mieux que les 
 Turcs les eussent tous tues, qu'il leur fut 
 reproche qu'ils eussent bailie leur roi en 
 gaige." The King desired to be given up, 
 but the army was resolute in its determina- 
 tion to refuse him. This was the only oc- 
 casion when the King was disobeyed. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 291 
 
 If we now direct our attention more 
 particularly to England, we shall not be 
 long in discovering a period of her history 
 when the highest virtues of chivalry were 
 displayed to the eternal renown of her 
 nobles, and to the vindication of her na- 
 tional character, which, if these had not 
 appeared, would have been justly con- 
 signed to the detestation of the world. I 
 allude to the dismal period of the great 
 rebellion, when the monarch, the nobles, 
 and the lowest gentlemen of the kingdom 
 were engaged in the same field of honour, 
 in a protracted trial of virtue, which seldom 
 falls to the lot of one individual, and which 
 the bravest and most eminent of men might 
 have trembled to anticipate. Yet the issue 
 was all that the friends of virtue and the 
 lovers of England could have hoped for 
 and desired; and the whole terminated in 
 the disclosure of false professions and plau- 
 sible dissimulation, which, under other 
 circumstances, might have been handed 
 down with honour to posterity ; and though 
 vice was developed, and to the vulgar ap- 
 prehension of mankind, for a time, sue- 
 o2 
 
292 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 cessful, yet never had the world beheld a 
 more illustrious display of chivalrous ex- 
 cellence, of high honour, of constant fide- 
 lity, of unshaken principle, of disinterested 
 virtue. 
 
 What can be more admirable than the 
 character of the king? His moderation 
 and gentleness in peace ; his courage and 
 personal firmness in war : Lord Clarendon 
 relates that when he was nearly surrounded 
 by the enemy in Oxford, and when he was 
 pressed by his nearest counsellors to sur- 
 render his person to the rebel general, he 
 made answer, that " possibly he might be 
 found in the hands of the Earl of Essex, 
 but he would be dead first." And in his 
 letter from Cardiff to Prince Rupert, he 
 confesses that there was no probability but 
 of his ruin, and that he cannot flatter him- 
 self with expectation of good success more 
 than this, to end his days with honour and 
 a good conscience ; and Lord Clarendon 
 affirms, that " he did more desire to have 
 lost his life in battle, than to have enjoyed 
 any conditions which he foresaw he wa& 
 ever likely to obtain by treaty." In the 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 293 
 
 letter which he had written from Hereford, 
 after the battle of Naseby, to the Prince 
 of Wales, he had charged him, upon his 
 blessing, never to yield to any conditions 
 that were dishonourable, though it were 
 for the saving of his life. The prince had 
 concealed this letter from the Council until 
 he was under the necessity of obeying the 
 order. It begins as follows : *' Charles, 
 my late misfortunes remember me to com- 
 mand you that which I hope you will never 
 have occasion to obey ; it is this : — if I 
 should at any time be taken prisoner by 
 the rebels, I command you, upon my bless- 
 ing, never to yield to any conditions that 
 are dishonourable, unsafe for your person, 
 or derogatory to royal authority, upon any 
 considerations whatsoever, thought it were 
 for the saving of my life. — Let their reso- 
 lutions be never so barbarous, the saving 
 of my life, by complying with them, would 
 make me end my days with torture and 
 disquiet of mind, not giving you my bless- 
 ing, and cursing all the rest who were 
 consenting to it. But your constancy will 
 make me die cheerfully, praising God for 
 o 3 
 
294 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 giving me so gallant a son, and heaping 
 my blessings on you." To the rude im- 
 portunity and threats of the Chancellor of 
 Scotland, the King made answer : " that 
 no condition they could reduce him to 
 could be half so miserable and grievous to 
 him as that which they would persuade him 
 to reduce himself to ; and therefore bid 
 them proceed their own way ; and that 
 though they had all forsaken him, God had 
 not." " He was so great a lover of justice," 
 says Lord Clarendon, " that no temptation 
 could dispose him to a wrongful action, 
 except it was so disguised to him that he 
 believed it to be just." When we arrive at 
 the period of his last suffering, the friend- 
 ship of the historian relinquishes the de- 
 tail : he thinks it " needless to repeat the 
 saint-like behaviour of that blessed martyr, 
 and his Christian courage and patience at 
 his death." He concludes with this testi- 
 mony, that " he was the worthiest gentle- 
 man, the best master, the best friend, the 
 best husband, the best father, and the best 
 Christian, that the age in which he lived, 
 produced." And here it is impossible not 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 295 
 
 to stand amazed at the mysterious dispen-' 
 sations of that Providence which decrees 
 such different consequences in this world 
 to the same virtue. Saint Louis, like the 
 martyr Charles, was just and devout, vir- 
 tuous and wise; but how different were 
 their fortunes ? The piety and noble firm- 
 ness of the one, had amazed and converted 
 infidels. They were unbelievers, but they 
 had " hearts of flesh/' and were men. Not 
 such were the enemies of the other. Selfish- 
 ness, avarice, hypocrisy, united with reli- 
 gious enthusiasm, had stifled in their bo- 
 soms every feeling of mercy, every delight 
 in justice, every sentiment of honour, every, 
 dictate of nature and humanity. The Turks 
 were ready and proud to honour courage 
 and piety in their enemy, but the canting 
 and hypocritical rebels of Scotland and 
 England neither respected the virtue, nor 
 admired the spirit, of their King. Yet 
 there was one mercy which the God of 
 grace, whom they served, vouchsafed to 
 them alike. They were mighty Kings, and 
 yet they had each a friend. They lived in 
 an age of darkness and confusion, when 
 o 4 
 
296 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 their best actions might have been lost and 
 unknown to posterity ; yet the memory of 
 each is immortal, and their deeds of devo- 
 tion and virtue have been graven in ever- 
 lasting characters, to be the admiration 
 and praise of all good men. And if the 
 piety and amiable tenderness of Joinville 
 had induced him to erect a chapel in his 
 house, dedicated to the spirit of his che- 
 rished master, and for a continual invoca- 
 tion of blessing upon his soul ; the ability 
 of Clarendon has enabled him to erect a 
 temple to the martyr King, of such mar- 
 vellous excellence and beauty, of such 
 spotless purity and admirable design, that 
 it will stand while the world shall endure, 
 to receive the homage of the heart from the 
 good and the wise, the honourable and the 
 brave of every future generation ; a sanc- 
 tuary for precious recollections and for ge- 
 nerous thoughts, where age may remember, 
 and youth may learn the lessons of patrio- 
 tism and honour, of loyalty and virtue. Let 
 not the virtuous friends to the liberties of 
 mankind, and to the rights of Englishmen, 
 imagine that they detect a political error 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 297 
 
 in the spirit which dictates these pages. 
 Let them be reminded, once for all, that 
 according to the design of our undertak- 
 ing, the necessity of political discussion is 
 obviated in this place ; that in the present 
 instance we are but advocating the general 
 principle, which was certainly involved 
 after the first stage in the contest with the 
 King. Once for all, let them be assured 
 that the spirit of chivalry breathes nothing 
 servile, nothing cowardly; that abject sub- 
 mission to an oppressor, does not belong to 
 gentlemen, to men of honour and of inde- 
 pendence. We have already quoted the 
 words of Achilles to Clytemnestra. Let 
 them be again called to your remembrance. 
 
 'JRyio 8' lv avdpog tvcretEararov Tpa$tig y 
 Xtipwvog, EfxaOov rovg rporrovg airXovg ex elv * 
 Kai toiq 'ArpeidaiQy i\v [lev rjydjvrai KaXutg, 
 HeuTO[isQ'' orav tie \lh\ KaXojg, ov TreKrofiai. 
 
 If we pass from the character of the 
 King, to survey the virtues of his faithful 
 gentlemen # , we shall experience the delight 
 
 * Circumstances of a similar nature will generally 
 occasion the developement of the same combination 
 of virtues which distinguished so many of these dc- 
 
 o 5 
 
29$ THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 of admiration at every name which is re- 
 called. The catalogue might be extended 
 to a greater length than would agree with 
 the limits of this work ; but the list which 
 follows may be sufficient for all the pur- 
 poses of instruction and benefit which the 
 examples of eminent virtue are designed to 
 afford. 
 
 The Earl of Northampton, who was slain 
 on Hopton Heath, being dismounted, 
 and having killed with his own hand the 
 colonel of foot who made fast haste to 
 him, refusing quarter when they offered it, 
 and answering, that f* he scorned to take 
 quarter from such base rogues and rebels 
 as they were/' 
 
 Ola xpV tov evytvrj*. 
 
 The Earl of Lindsey, who had such 
 public spirit as to suppress all his private 
 
 voted defenders of the royal cause. Thus, for instance, 
 in the army of La Vendee, the characters of M. de Les- 
 cure and of M. de la Rochejaquelein, as described in 
 the rnemoires of the Marquise de la Rochejaquelein, 
 present instances exactly parallel to those given by 
 Lord Clarendon. 
 
 * Eurip. Heraclid. 820. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 299 
 
 feelings and resentments, and though ge- 
 neral of the army with a real inferiority in 
 command, to fight and die like a private 
 soldier in the ranks. 
 
 The Duke of Richmond, who sacrificed 
 all he possessed to the King's service, and 
 engaged his three brothers, all gallant 
 gentlemen, in the service, in which they all 
 lost their lives. 
 
 The Lord Digby, who had boldly pro- 
 tested against the murder of the Earl of 
 Strafford in face of the Parliament and the 
 mob that were thirsting for his blood, and 
 who afterwards fought for his King and 
 country, distinguished for his gallant con- 
 duct and wonderful escapes. 
 
 Sir Bevil Greenville, slain in the battle 
 of Lansdown, who was the leader and pride 
 of the brave Cornish army, possessing every 
 noble and amiable virtue, the brightest 
 courage and the most gentle disposition. 
 
 Sir Ralph, afterwards Lord Hopton, the 
 man of piety and of every religious virtue, 
 " the soldier's darling," and the Chris^ 
 tian's example. 
 
800 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Sir Nicholas Harming and Colonel John 
 Trevennion, slain in the storming of Bris- 
 tol, " the life and soul of the Cornish re- 
 giments," neither of them above twenty- 
 eight years of age, of entire friendship to 
 one another, and to Sir Bevil Greenville, 
 who being led by no impulsion but that 
 of conscience, engaged their persons and 
 estates in the King's service. 
 
 The young Lord Grandison, whom no 
 temptation or provocation could corrupt, 
 and of that rare piety and devotion that 
 the court or camp could not shew a more 
 faultless person ; who used to say, " that 
 if he had not understanding enough to 
 know the uprightness of the cause, nor 
 loyalty enough to inform him of the duty 
 of a subject, yet the very obligation of 
 gratitude to the King, on the behalf of his 
 house, were such, as his life was but a due 
 sacrifice," and therefore he engaged him- 
 self and his three brothers in the service. 
 
 The Marquis of Vieu Ville, a gentleman 
 of the French nation, who had attended 
 the Queen out of Holland, and put himr 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 301 
 
 self as a volunteer into the Lord Jermyn's 
 regiment, and was killed a few days before 
 the battle of Newbury. 
 
 The Earl of Sunderland, being not above 
 three and twenty years of age, who, having 
 no command in the army, attended upon 
 the King's person under the obligation of 
 honour ; and putting himself, on the day 
 of the battle of Newbury, in the King's 
 troop, as a volunteer, was taken away by 
 a cannon bullet. 
 
 The Earl of Carnarvon, the accom- 
 plished traveller, the finished gentleman, 
 who fought for the King, and fell in the 
 same battle. 
 
 The Lord Viscount Falkland, slain in 
 the same battle, " a person," says Lord 
 Clarendon, " of such prodigious parts of 
 learning and knowledge, of that inimitable 
 sweetness and delight in conversation, of 
 so flowing and obliging a humanity and 
 goodness to mankind, and of that primi- 
 tive simplicity and integrity of life, that if 
 there were no other brand upon this odious 
 and accursed civil war, than that single 
 loss, it must be most infamous and exe- 
 
302 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 crable to all posterity Before this Par- 
 liament, his condition was so happy that 
 it was hardly capable of improvement ; he 
 was guilty of no other ambition than of 
 knowledge, and to be reputed a lover of 
 all good men, of high honour, of un- 
 bounded generosity, exposing his own life 
 to save that of his enemies who had thrown 
 away their arms in battle ; so that though 
 addicted to the profession of a soldier, 
 and brave, even to a fault, ff he appeared 
 to come into the field," says Lord Claren- 
 don, " chiefly out of curiosity to see the 
 face of danger, and charity to prevent the 
 shedding of blood." The lover of peace, 
 who mourned in tears over the calamities 
 of his country : in the morning of the battle 
 he put himself into the first rank of Lord 
 Byron's regiment, in which he was slain 
 by a musket ball, in the four and thirtieth 
 year of his age. 
 
 Sir Henry Killigrew, who having been 
 called upon by the parliament to join his 
 subscription of horses, arms, &c. for their 
 service, stood up and said, that " he would 
 provide a good horse, and a good sword, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 303 
 
 and made no question but he should find 
 a good cause," and so went out of the 
 house, and rode post into Cornwall, and 
 there joined with the gallant gentlemen 
 who had risen in defence of the King. 
 
 The whole body of the University of 
 Oxford, who, when some committee men 
 and Presbyterian ministers were sent down 
 by the parliament to reform their disci- 
 pline and doctrine by the rule of " the cove- 
 nant" all persons being required to sub- 
 scribe that test, met in their convocation, 
 and f! to their eternal renown," says Lord 
 Clarendon, " (being at the same time under 
 a strict and strong garrison, put over them 
 by the parliament, the King in prison, and 
 all their hopes desperate) passed a public 
 act and declaration against the covenant, 
 with such invincible arguments of the ille- 
 gality, wickedness, and perjury contained 
 in it, that no man of the contrary opinion, 
 ever ventured to make any answer to it ; 
 nor is it, indeed, to be answered, but must 
 remain to the world's end as a monument 
 of the learning, courage, and loyalty of 
 that excellent place, against the highest 
 
304 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 malice and tyranny that was ever exercised 
 in or over any nation ; and which these 
 famous commissioners only answered by 
 expelling all those who refused to submit 
 to their jurisdiction, or to take the cove- 
 nant ; which was, upon the matter, the 
 whole university : scarce one governor, or 
 master, of college or hall, and an incredible 
 small number of the fellows, or scholars, 
 submitting to either." 
 
 Captain Burly, who was hanged, drawn, 
 and quartered, in the Isle of Wight, for 
 having been roused with honest indigna- 
 tion at the captivity of the King, and put- 
 ting himself at the head of the people who 
 flocked together, crying, " for God, the 
 King, and the People." 
 
 Sir Charles Lucas, and Sir George Lisle, 
 who were shot to death by order of General 
 Fairfax, after the surrender of Colchester. 
 Lisle, who united the fiercest courage with 
 the softest and most gentle nature, kind to 
 all, and beloved of all, and without a capa- 
 city to have an enemy. Lucas, of equal 
 bravery, though of morose and forbidding 
 manners, yet a man whom all his fellow 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 305 
 
 prisoners desired to accompany in death. 
 Both gentlemen, who were the constant 
 and faithful servants of the Crown, who 
 were united in their lives, and whom Capel 
 and his generous comrades would have died 
 to save. 
 
 Sir John Digby, the disinterested and 
 indefatigable servant of the King, who was 
 the first to take up arms in his cause, and 
 the last to abandon them, who was one of 
 the six whom Cromwell excepted from par- 
 don in the treaty of Pontefract Castle, and 
 whom that famishing garrison refused to 
 deliver up, though upon condition of their 
 own safe deliverance. 
 
 Sir John Owen, who, when he received 
 sentence of death with the Lord Capel, and 
 others, made a low reverence, and gave his 
 judges humble thanks ; and, being asked 
 by a stander-by what he meant? he said 
 aloud, " it was a very great honour to a 
 poor gentleman of Wales to lose his head 
 with such noble lords. " 
 
 The Lord Capel, whom Cromwell knew 
 to be the last man in England that would 
 forsake the royal interest; to have great 
 
306 THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 
 
 courage, industry, and generosity ; and to 
 be a man whose death was necessary for 
 the good of the commonwealth 5 who died 
 without affectation, but with all the dignity 
 and serenity which became a good con- 
 science, a sincere faith, and an elevated 
 mind. He had always lived in a state of 
 affluence and general estimation, having a 
 noble fortune, a lovely wife, a numerous 
 issue in which he took great joy and com- 
 fort ; so that no man was more happy in all 
 his domestic affairs ; and he was so much 
 the more happy in that he thought himself 
 most blessed in them. And yet the King's 
 honour was no sooner violated, and his just 
 power invaded, than he threw all these 
 blessings behind him ; and, having no other 
 obligation to the crown than those which 
 his own honour and conscience suggested 
 to him, he frankly engaged his person and 
 his fortune from the beginning of the 
 troubles. The man, in a word, with whom 
 the noblest of the English nation that shall 
 succeed, may be proud to be compared in 
 courage, virtue, and fidelity. 
 
 The Earl of Derby, who returned that 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 807 
 
 memorable answer, breathing the very soul 
 of chivalry, when he was desired by Crom- 
 well to surrender the Isle of Man. 
 
 The gallant Marquis of Montrose, who 
 told his murderers that " he was prouder 
 to have his head set upon the place it was 
 appointed to be, than he could have been 
 to have had his picture hung in the King's 
 bed-chamber : that he was so far from be- 
 ing troubled that his four limbs were to be 
 hanged in four cities of the kingdom, that 
 he heartily wished that he had flesh enough 
 to be sent to every city in Christendom, as 
 a testimony of the cause for which he suf- 
 fered/' 
 
 Mr. Gerard, who was not above twenty- 
 two years of age when he was beheaded by 
 order of Cromwell, merely for his attach- 
 ment to the crown, and who told them on 
 the scaffold, " that if he had a hundred 
 lives, he would lose them all to do the 
 King any service, and was now willing to 
 die upon that suspicion/' 
 
 Captain Wogan, who when he was of the 
 age of three and twenty, devoted himself to 
 death to expiate the treason into which he 
 
308 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 had been led, when he was a youth of fifteen 
 years. The account which Lord Clarendon 
 gives of his undertaking deserves to be 
 transcribed in this place. The following 
 is the substance of it. There was attend- 
 ing upon the King a young gentleman, Mr. 
 Wogan, a very handsome person, of the 
 age of three or four and twenty. The gen- 
 tleman, when he was a youth of fifteen 
 years, had been, by the corruption of some 
 of his nearest friends, engaged in the Par- 
 liament service against the King, when the 
 eminency of his courage made him so much 
 taken notice of, that he was of general esti- 
 mation, and beloved of all. By the time of 
 the murder of the King, he was so much 
 improved in age and understanding, that, 
 by that horrible deed, and by the informa- 
 tion of sober men, he grew into so great 
 a detestation of all that people, that he 
 thought of nothing but to repair his own 
 reputation ; and after serving in Ireland 
 under the Marquis of Ormond, who gave 
 him the command of his own guards, he 
 came over with the Marquis into France, 
 and being restless to be in action, no 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 309 
 
 sooner heard of Middleton being arrived 
 in Scotland, than he resolved to find him*- 
 self with him ; and immediately asked the 
 King's leave not only for himself, but for 
 as many of the young men about the court 
 as he could persuade to go with him, de- 
 claring to his Majesty, " that he resolved to 
 pass through England" The King, w T ho had 
 much grace for him, dissuaded him from 
 the undertaking for the difficulty and dan- 
 ger of it, and denied to give him leave. 
 But neither his Majesty, nor the Marquis 
 of Ormond could divert him ; and his im- 
 portunity continuing, he was left to follow 
 his inclinations : and there was no news so 
 much talked of in the court, as that Cap- 
 tain Wogan would go into England, and 
 thence march into Scotland ; and many 
 young gentlemen who were in Paris, listed 
 themselves with him for the expedition. 
 He went then to the Chancellor of the 
 Exchequer (Lord Clarendon himself, who 
 describes the interview), to desire the dis- 
 patch of such passes, letters, and commis- 
 sions, as were necessary for the affair he 
 had in hand. The Chancellor had much 
 
310 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 kindness for him, and having heard of his 
 design by the common talk of the court, 
 represented the danger of the enterprise to 
 himself, and the dishonour that would re- 
 flect upon the King, for suffering men with 
 his commission to expose themselves to 
 inevitable ruin ; that it was now the dis- 
 course of the town, and would without 
 doubt be known in England before he could 
 get there, so that it was likely they would 
 be all apprehended the first minute they 
 put their foot on shore ; and how much his 
 own particular person was more liable to 
 danger than other men's, he knew well, and 
 upon the whole matter, he very earnestly 
 dissuaded him from proceeding farther. 
 He answered most of the particular con- 
 siderations with contempt of the danger, 
 and confidence of going through with it ; 
 but with no kind of reason (a talent that 
 did not then abound in him), to make it 
 appear probable. Whereupon the Chan- 
 cellor expressly refused to make his dis- 
 patches, till he could speak with the King, 
 " with whom," he said, " he would do the 
 best he could to persuade his Majesty 
 8 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 311 
 
 to hinder his journey with which the 
 young man was provoked to so great pas- 
 sion, that he burst into tears, and besought 
 him not to persuade the King ; and seemed 
 so much transported with the resolution of 
 the adventure, as if he would not outlive 
 the disappointment This passion so far 
 prevailed with the King, that he caused all 
 his dispatches to be delivered to him. And 
 the very next day he and his companions, 
 being seven or eight in number, went out 
 of Paris and took post for Calais. They 
 landed at Dover, continued their journey 
 to London, and walked through the town ; 
 stayed there about three weeks, till they 
 had bought horses, which they quartered 
 at common inns, and listed men enough of 
 their acquaintance to prosecute their pur- 
 pose ; and then appointed their rendez- 
 vous at Barnet, marched out of London as 
 Cromwell's soldiers, with full fourscore 
 horse well armed and appointed, quartered 
 that night at St. Alban's, and thence by 
 easy journies, marched safely into Scot- 
 land ; beat up some quarters which lay in 
 their way, and without any misadventure 
 
312 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR . 
 
 joined Middleton in the Highlands, where 
 poor Wogan perished after performing 
 many brave actions, to the very great grief 
 of Middleton, and all who knew him. 
 
 But it would be endless to relate the 
 virtue of individuals, when all were gentle- 
 men of honour. The Marquises of Hert- 
 ford, Newcastle, Worcester, and Ormond ; 
 the Earls of Southampton, Devonshire, 
 Clare, Monmouth, Westmoreland, Rivers, 
 Kingston, Newport, Dorset, Litchfield, 
 Berkshire, Derby, Dover, Cleveland ; the 
 Lords Littleton, Willoughby of Eresby, 
 Newark, Coventry, Pawlett, Savile, Dun- 
 more, Mowbray, Howard, Lovelace, Mo- 
 hun, Seymour, Falconbridge, Herbert, 
 Aubigney, Windham, Berkeley, Bernard, 
 Stewart, Withrington, Arundel of Trerice, 
 Montague ; Sir Richard Gurney and Judge 
 Mallet, Sirs Jacob Astley, John Ackland, 
 Matthew Appleyard, Allen , Apsley, Ed- 
 mund Verney, Marmaduke Langdale, John 
 Strangeways, Peter Ball, John Colepepper, 
 William Boteler, William Clarke, John 
 Causfield, George Carteret, Hugh Chol- 
 nxondeley, William Courtney, F. Dodding- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 313 
 
 ton, Bernard Gascoigne, William Throg- 
 morton, Lewis Dives, Gervas Scroop, John 
 Stawell, John Smith, William Morton, 
 Thomas Glemham, Michael Earnly, Philip 
 Musgrave, Richard Hutton, William Comp- 
 ton, Thomas Tildesley ; Colonels Slingsby, 
 Trelawny, Bernard, Astley, Ashton, Gage, 
 Hastings, Ley, Boles, Captains Wake, 
 Kettleby, Stradlin ; and of Esquires, Sid- 
 ney Godolphin, Murray, Kenelm Digby, 
 Bridgman, Lutterel, Dudley Smith, Lane. 
 These and others which history has not 
 preserved, are the names of honourable 
 gentlemen who have transmitted to their 
 posterity the inheritance of a virtuous ex- 
 ample, and of a spotless fame. Their vir- 
 tue was in the heart, and the tribute of the 
 heart is worthy of them. They are to be 
 proclaimed to posterity, not because they 
 were a band of brothers united in any party 
 or political fellowship, the recollection of 
 which can only serve to perpetuate the 
 base passions of jealousy and ill-will, but 
 because they were men, who, amidst a 
 world of dissimulation, and treachery, and 
 selfish ambition, discharged their duty un- 
 p 
 
314 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 moved by interest, unconscious of fear, 
 and deaf to the strongest inducements of 
 private friendship ; who were actuated by- 
 pure, abstracted, and unbending virtue ; 
 because they left the surest testimony of 
 their sincerity that it was in the ^)ower of 
 mortal men to give, by preferring a good 
 conscience to the bribes of fortune, and 
 death with dignity to life with dishonour ; 
 death, in the service not alone of their 
 King and country, but of truth, of justice, 
 and of God. May the brave and virtuous 
 of every nation, and of every generation to 
 come, cherish and reverence such names, 
 and such a memory ! and while there is 
 nobility in England, and a reward for vir- 
 tue among mankind, may they be handed 
 down with honour ! " These were ho- 
 noured in their generation, and were the 
 glory of their times : their bodies are 
 buried in peace, but their name liveth for 
 evermore." 
 
 But if we behold in the Monarch and 
 gentlemen of England, at this eventful 
 period of their history, the elevated sen- 
 timents of honour and virtue displayed in 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 315 
 
 personal sacrifice and activity, the view is 
 far different if we turn our regard to the 
 conduct and tone of feeling which distin^ 
 guished at that time the other nations of 
 Europe. V With what countenance did 
 the Kings and Princes of Christendom fix 
 their eyes upon the sad and bloody spec- 
 tacle of a murdered Sovereign, of a brother 
 King, the anointed of the Lord, dismem- 
 bered as a malefactor by the lowest and 
 vilest of human beings ? What combina- 
 tion and union was entered into, to take 
 vengeance upon these monsters, and to 
 vindicate the royal blood thus wickedly 
 spilt V Where were the gentlemen of 
 France and Spain, the nobles of Germany, 
 the champions of innocence, the knights 
 and heroes who lived only for honour, to 
 defend the right of the fatherless, and to 
 punish the guilt of the oppressor? Alas! 
 they were no more. Commerce, manufac- 
 tures, religious animosity, warfare con- 
 verted into a course of assassination, these 
 had grown up with the progress of the age 
 towards refinement and commercial pros- 
 perity. u Where were the sovereigns of 
 p2 
 
316 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Europe, whose majesty was insulted, and 
 whose very thrones and persons menaced 
 by this outrage ? alas ! there was scarce a 
 murmur amongst any of them at it ; but, 
 as if they had been all called upon in the 
 language of the Prophet Isaiah, ' Go, ye 
 swift messengers, to a nation scattered and 
 peeled, to a people terrible from the be- 
 ginning hitherto, to a nation meted out 
 and trodden down, whose lands the rivers 
 have spoiled they made haste, and sent 
 over, that they might get shares in the 
 spoils of a murdered Monarch. " This is 
 the testimony of Lord Clarendon. Cardi- 
 nal Mazarine sent now to be admitted as a 
 merchant to traffic in the purchase of the 
 rich goods and jewels of the rifled crown ; 
 of which he purchased the rich beds, hang- 
 ings, and carpets, which furnished his pa- 
 lace at Paris. Don Alonzo de Cardinas 
 bought for his master, the King of Spain, 
 as many pictures and other precious goods 
 appertaining to the crown, as, being sent in 
 ships to the Corunna, were carried from 
 thence to Madrid upon eighteen mules. 
 Christina, Queen of Sweden, purchased 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 317 
 
 the choice of all the medals, and jewels, 
 and some pictures of a great price. The 
 Archduke Leopold disbursed a great sum 
 of money for many of the best pictures 
 which adorned the several palaces of the 
 King ; which were all carried by him into 
 Germany # . I have been led incidentally 
 to notice that apparent disorder and uncer- 
 tainty in the government of human affairs 
 which have so frequently induced men of 
 vulgar capacity and hasty temper to argue 
 against the existence of moral retribution. 
 Without doubt the retrospect of history 
 with a view to this particular object will 
 furnish scope for endless reflection, even to 
 men of thoughtful and philosophic minds. 
 Louis XV. dies tranquilly on his bed ; 
 
 * These pictures are now at Vienna, where I have 
 seen them displayed to the public with a notice in 
 form, signifying the manner in which they had been 
 obtained. This was complete. I have heard of a cer- 
 tain Society who had concealed their plate during the 
 troubles, lest they should have been called upon to 
 deliver it to the King; and who are now very cautious 
 in acknowledging that they possess any. This is as it 
 should be ; for " where there is still shame there may 
 in time be virtue." 
 
 p3 
 
318 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Louis XVI. upon the scaffold. There is 
 nothing more celebrated in the early history 
 of France than the lives and fate of Frede- 
 gond and Brunehaut. Fredegond, described 
 by all writers as a monster of iniquity, dies 
 tranquilly in her chamber. Brunehaut, 
 whether equally guilty according to the 
 ancient opinion, or as the historian Velly 
 maintains, wholly innocent, expires amidst 
 torment and horrors which the pen refuses 
 to detail. Turning to the pages of our own 
 history, we behold Richard II. deposed and 
 murdered in Pontefract Castle, and Henry 
 IV. wearing the crown for fourteen years, 
 then seized with his last illness while pray- 
 ing in St. Edward's chapel, and dying 
 peaceably in the Abbot's chamber at West- 
 minster, transmitting the crown to his son. 
 Henry VI. # deposed and murdered in the 
 
 * I remember onee having assisted at the annual 
 commemoration in the college of King Henry VI. at 
 Cambridge. The second lesson was peculiarly appli- 
 cable to the occasion. It was the twelfth chapter of 
 the Epistle to the Hebrews, where the apostle incul- 
 cates subjection to the Father of spirits, who chastened 
 us for our profit, " that we might be partakers of his 
 holiness." A doctrine at all times essential to the stu- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 319 
 
 Tower; and Edward IV. (what different 
 associations excited by these names !) en- 
 joying the crown for twenty-one years, 
 then before his death, spending entire days 
 in the exercises of religion, expiring in the 
 end without pam or terror, and transmit- 
 ting the crown to his son Edward. 
 
 'Q Zev, ri \e%u) • iroTtpa <r av9pu)7rovg bpav ; 
 'H do%av dXKojg rrjv 5s KSKTrjcrOat fjLarrjv 
 "^revdrj, SoKovvrag daijxoviov eivai yevog 
 Tvxrjv 8e iravra r av Bporoig k7riGK07ruv * ; 
 
 Such were the complaints and the doubts 
 of one who had only reason and nature for 
 his guide. 
 
 4( Dunce, dotard !" cries the philosopher in the play f, 
 
 " were you born before the flood 
 
 To talk of perjury, whilst Simon breathes, 
 Theorus and Cleonymus, whilst they, 
 Thrice-perjured villains, brave the lightning's stroke 
 
 dent of history, and which upon this occasion in parti- 
 cular, was calculated to remove the mournful feelings 
 and the otherwise inexplicable difficulties so naturally 
 awakened in the thoughtful breast when reminded of 
 the most virtuous and unfortunate of kings. 
 * Euripid. Hecuba. 
 
 f Aristoph. The Clouds. Cumberland's translat. 
 
 p4 
 
320 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 And gaze the heaven's unschorch't ? would these escape? 
 Why, man, Jove's random fires strike his own fane, 
 Strike Sunium's guiltless top, strike the dumb oak 
 Who never yet broke faith or falsely swore 
 
 Nor was this the mere effusion of poetical 
 fancy, since history records the names of 
 many men, who, like Diagoras, were induced 
 from similar observations to deny even the 
 existence of a God. " Videtisne Amici," 
 said Dionysius, when he was sailing to Sy- 
 racuse with a fair wind, " quam bona a diis 
 immortalibus navigatio sacrilegis detur." 
 The truth is, however, that all objections 
 and reasoning of this kind are utterly 
 groundless, depending both upon an erro- 
 neous estimate of happiness, and an imper- 
 fect observation of the natural order of 
 events. It is not true that we are unfur- 
 nished with evidence sufficient to prove a 
 moral retribution. The very reverse of this 
 is the fact, and instances in confirmation 
 may be adduced from almost every page of 
 history. What a magnificent passage is 
 that in the Electra of Sophocles, when the 
 
 * The reader of Rabelais will recollect a curious 
 passage, in which the same objection is artfully stated. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 321 
 
 chorus exclaims to one who beheld in des- 
 pair the prosperity of the wicked ! 
 
 0ap<7« jlOl, 9ap<T£l 9 TtKVOP 
 
 *Ecti fieyag Iv Ovpavijj 
 
 Zevq, og tyopa, iravTa kcli Kparvvu* 
 
 And with what power and majesty does 
 the genius of Demosthenes proclaim this 
 truth to the desponding Athenians : 'Eyw 
 yocq, a ocvSqeS AQwvocioi, c^o^^x av ^ya/xojv xott 
 duroS QoQsqov eivat koli Qxv&ocerov rov (piXi7r7:ov 9 
 s\ rot diKociz it^xrrovrx souqouv aurov riu^nfABVOv* — 
 a yag EdTiV, &k lariv 9 u) «vSgs£ 'Aflflvcaoi, aSi- 
 xavrot kxi ETTiogyivvTcc, xoci ^Pe^Sopcsvov, Suvocfjuv 
 $e?aiav xmaotoQai* cxKkx roc roiotvroc sU jxsv ocirods; 
 xou fiojxyjjv y^ovov ocvrs%si' koli <j(pofya ys wQecsv 
 rociS IXiriaiv, otv rwffi rco %qovco Ss (pafgarai, 
 
 X.0CI <7T£gl OLVTQL K/XTOCpflSt* cIgTTZQ yotq OMIOCS OlfAOCl, 
 
 xoci mhousy xou rcov aXkoov rcov roiurcov, roc xocrco- 
 5sv 9 iG%v%orocroc elvoci Sst* xrco koci rcov tt^x^scov 
 rocs dg/jxs koci rocs vvqOsgeis dKyQsiS koci SixatocS 
 flvai wpoanKEi # . 
 
 * Olynth. 1. The Christian religion has taught us 
 to reconcile completely the appearances of disorder in 
 the moral government of the world with the constant 
 superin tendance of God. We may further remark, that 
 P 5 
 
322 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Upon the whole, then, the conclusion is 
 consolatory, nay, highly animating. We 
 have the undoubted fact, establishing the 
 connection between obedience to God and 
 human happiness. A moral retribution 
 even in this world, admitting that there are 
 difficulties in the way of our perfectly dis- 
 cerning its operation in every instance, is 
 fully confirmed. Who will presume to say 
 that it is merely a superstitious prejudice 
 which leads men in all ages and countries, 
 to treasure up and record observations 
 similar to what were made by the contem- 
 poraries of Edward IV., who remarked that 
 this usurper when he landed in England to 
 dethrone Henry VI. disembarked at Raven- 
 spur, the very place where Henry IV. landed 
 to dethrone Richard II.? All history is 
 full of evidence confirming this most im- 
 portant lesson, that sooner or later, pu- 
 nishment is sure to be visited on the guilty ; 
 
 the wisest of the ancients were enabled to derive the 
 right inference from the same phenomena. See Plato 
 de iegibus, lib. iv. and x. Plutarch de fort. Bnman. de 
 sera numinis vindicta. Juv. Sat. xiii. Caesar's answer 
 to Divicus the Helvetian Ambassador, &c. &c. 
 
 8 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 323 
 
 that vice is never without its penalty, and 
 with most wonderful exactness, its peculiar 
 penalty ; nor virtue without its proper re- 
 ward # . But hence will arise another lesson. 
 Though virtue and utility are in the end 
 inseparable, yet it is by the former as dic- 
 tating a rule that our views and actions 
 must be regulated ; for attend to the dis- 
 tinction observed by Cicero, " nec quia 
 utile honestum est, sed quia honestum 
 utile f." We are not to examine whether 
 an action be expedient that it may be vir- 
 tuous, for here is a point which we may not 
 be able to determine ; but whether it be 
 virtuous that it may be expedient, which 
 is an enquiry that will never terminate in 
 uncertainty. This is not, I must repeat, a 
 mere verbal refinement. They who first 
 look to expediency, supposing that they 
 therefore consult virtue, are generally de- 
 feated in both objects which they desire 
 to secure : their virtue is forfeited, and their 
 policy unsuccessful. 
 
 * " Nec sine poena unquam esse vitia, nec sine prae- 
 mio virtutes." — Boethius Consol. 
 f De Off. II. xxx. 
 
 p 6 
 
324 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 The words of the Corinthian embassador 
 to the Athenians, as recorded by Thucy- 
 dides, are for ever memorable, ^ (-m) vofxiw 
 
 liVQCl, TO TS y<Xq £i/pKf>8§0V, 8V w dv ris i\<x,yjGToi 
 &[JLZqTQC)IYl 9 tAOChlGTCC S7TSTQCI. I. 42. 
 
 " Je ne sais par quelle fatalite les hom- 
 ines injustes nuisent presque toujours a 
 leurs interets, en multipliant sans besoin 
 les moyens de reussir but the Abbe 
 de Mably, who makes this observation, 
 might have gone farther, and taken higher 
 ground* He might have shewn to indi- 
 viduals and to statesmen # , that all po- 
 licy which interferes with the common 
 duties of humanity and religion, that all 
 careful provision for future exigencies, 
 which leads men to overlook or neglect the 
 ordinary dictates given to direct and deter- 
 mine their actions, are condemned by the 
 eternal and immutable law of Providence, 
 to be eventually frustrated and unsuccess- 
 
 * There is a passage in Montesquieu's Esprit des 
 loix, xix. 11. which seems open to great abuse. Let it 
 be compared with Plato's principle, de repub. iii. and 
 Alcibiad. i. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 325 
 
 ful, and that therefore the motive of expe- 
 diency, however proper in theoretical rea- 
 soning, should be altogether excluded from 
 the province of directing or determining 
 the actions of men. Take, as an instance, 
 the misfortunes and failure of the Persians 
 after they had treacherously broken their 
 treaty with the Greeks. The case is pro- 
 duced by Polysenus, in his book on stra- 
 tagems, as illustrating how justice maybe 
 made an instrument of policy. The truce 
 had been ratified for three months with 
 Agesilaus. The Persians made a sudden 
 attack upon the Greeks. Agesilaus seized 
 with eagerness the advantage, and encou- 
 raged his army with these words, %agiv 
 oJSa Xi<T<ja(p£§vy) rris Ittioqkkxs* Iolvtgj ptev *ya§ 
 noXe(jt.iovs rovs ©sous ewomasv, Tifxiv avy.^.a.- 
 
 TYiXixarav av^ayjMv, the barbarians were 
 routed in a moment. Again, observe how 
 Xenophon availed himself of a similar ad- 
 vantage, arising from the sacrilege com- 
 mitted by the enemy. To the Greek army 
 he affirmed, on noWoci xcci xaXai eXsnfe ^puv 
 iisv Gwrr^ias. UqojTov f^sv yocq riLAzis j>csv l^ir^ou- 
 
326 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ptev rout rm S'sa/v oqytov%" ol Ss ttoXs^ioi etfj^gxaj- 
 xafft re xou rccs ait^as kcli tovs oqkous \z\vkoigiv. 
 ovrcj s%pvTwv, lixos*, rotr //,ev TloXzfJuois hocv- 
 riovs b'ivoci tovf Ssovs, rifjt.iv au[x^ocy^ovs 
 
 In modem history, we have the instance 
 of the Allies giving to Louis XIV., their 
 enemy, the inestimable advantage of a 
 good cause. Here again the policy of the 
 opposite party was similar. When they, 
 by their unreasonable and cruel demands, 
 had fully demonstrated the extent of their 
 ambition, Louis published their terms, ap- 
 pealed to his people, and from that moment 
 France recovered her ground and prevailed 
 against the power of her united enemies. 
 
 But to resume the subject from which I 
 have been induced to digress. It was not 
 to the splendid qualities which excite ad- 
 miration, that the virtues of chivalry were 
 
 * Anab. iii. 2. The policy of such opinions in the 
 ancients is indisputable, and they who are inclined to 
 speculate upon their validity as entertained by men 
 involved in the guilt and errors of idolatry, will do well 
 to consult the arguments of Prideaux, when he attri- 
 butes the fate of Crassus and of Pompey, to their pro- 
 fanation of holy things. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 327 
 
 confined. Their sphere was of much wider 
 dimensions, since it included those less 
 conspicuous, but equally valuable dispo- 
 sitions, which are of every-day use, and 
 which contribute to refine and preserve 
 from interruption, the beneficial intercourse 
 of social life. 
 
 u Amongst them all grows not a fairer flower 
 Than is the bloom of comely courtesy, 
 Which though it on a lowly stalk do bowre, 
 Yetbrancheth forth in brave nobility, 
 And spreads itself through all civility." 
 
 " There was no country," says S te Palaye, 
 " where chivalry did not exert its influence 
 to promote public and private good." No- 
 thing was little or contemptible in the eyes 
 of a knight, when it related to doing good ; 
 and he proceeds to point out that this ex- 
 ercise of benevolence was extended to all 
 classes of men, even to the person of the 
 very lowest and most abject condition. He 
 quotes a precept of the chevalier de la 
 Tour, in his book of instructions, which 
 requires the practice of courtesy towards 
 inferiors. " Ceux la," he says, " vous por- 
 teront plus grant louenge et plus grant 
 
328 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 renommee et plus grant bien que les grans : 
 car Thonneur et la courtoisie qui est portee 
 aux grans, n'est faite que de leur droit que 
 Ten leur doit faire ; mais celle qui est por- 
 tee aux petits genlitz hommes et aux petites 
 genlitz femmes et outres mendres, tel hon- 
 neur et courtoisie vient de franc et doulx 
 cuer, et le petit a qui on la fait s'en tient 
 pour honore." 
 
 Spenser devotes the whole of the sixth 
 book to celebrate the examples and beauty 
 of courtesy. His description of Sir Calidore 
 is quite perfect. 
 
 " But 'mongst them all was none more courteous knight 
 Than Calidore, beloved over all : 
 In whom it seems, that gentleness of spright 
 And manners mild were planted natural, 
 To which he adding comely guize withall, 
 And gracious speech, did steal men's hearts away. 
 Nath'less thereto he was full stout and tall 
 And well approv'd in battailous affray, 
 That him did much renown, and far his fame display. 
 Ne was there knight, ne was there lady found 
 In Fairy Court, but him did dear embrace, 
 For his fair usage and conditions sound, 
 The which in all men's liking gained place, 
 And with the greatest, purchast greatest grace ; 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 329 
 
 Which he could wisely use, and well apply 
 To please the best, and th' evil to cmbrase, 
 For he loath'd leasing and base flattery, 
 And loved simple truth and stedfast honesty." 
 
 In the third canto it is related how Sir 
 Calepine was insulted by a proud and das- 
 tardly knight, whom he defied in these 
 grand words : 
 
 " Unknightly knight, the blemish of that name, 
 And blot of all that arms upon them take, 
 Which is the badge of honour and of fame, 
 Lo, I defie thee, and here challenge make, 
 That thou for ever do these arms forsake, 
 And be for ever held a recreant knight, 
 Unless thou dare for thy dear Eadie's sake, 
 And for thine own defence on foot alight 
 To justify thy fault 'gainst me in equal fight. 
 The dastard that did hear himself defide, 
 Seem'd not to weigh his threatful words at all, 
 But laught them out, as if his greater pride 
 Did scorn the challenge of so base a thrall, 
 Or had no courage, or else had no gall." 
 
 A similar adventure once befel me. It 
 was an officer in the service of the King of 
 Sardinia, whom I met in the mountains of 
 Piedmont. I was looking back from my 
 horse, when this discourteous coward, 
 pricking down the road, rudely seized my 
 
330 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 bridle, and before I was aware of his pre- 
 sence, turned round my steed to clear the 
 way. Like Sir Calepine, I reviled and de- 
 fied him in the moment of wrath, but as 
 dastardly as he was discourteous, he 
 quickened his pace without venturing to 
 reply. Thibaud, in his Memoirs of the 
 King of Prussia, relates an amusing anec- 
 dote of a Prussian prince, who severely ad- 
 monished some young military pupils at 
 Strasburg, for treating him with insolent 
 contempt, when they regarded him as an 
 obscure stranger, (for he travelled in dis- 
 guise.) And the conduct of Henry IV, of 
 France was somewhat similar, in punishing 
 the discourteous lawyers, in the inn at 
 Charenton, who refused to allow him, 
 whom they mistook for a common gentle- 
 man, to have a small portion of their 
 dinner, or to sit at the bottom of their 
 table, there being no other provision in the 
 house. To respect strangers, " a etre une 
 autre fois plus civile avec les gentilshom- 
 mes/' was the lesson inculcated upon both 
 occasions, in a manner which could hardly 
 fail to make a lasting impression. The 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 331 
 
 rule laid down by Demetrius, as related 
 by Diogenes Laertius, may be adopted as 
 the lesson of chivalry : rovs vsous t^m Seiv stti 
 pcev tojs olxuxs rovs yovsis al^aiaQoci, sv Ss rats' o^oi? 
 rovs ccTrocvrcuvras, bv Ss rais {qri^axis \<zvrovs. 
 
 Of the advantage and excellence of this 
 gracious disposition, it seems quite impos- 
 sible to entertain a reasonable doubt. Yet 
 is it not exempt from the lot of all virtue in 
 this world, for it has to endure the contra- 
 diction of wayward men, and even to meet 
 Arguments (if they can deserve the name), 
 which would prove its injurious tendency. 
 There are persons in the world who ridicule 
 and condemn these peculiarities of manner, 
 as defective and vicious in principle, as 
 generating servility in the person who re- 
 ceives, and pride in him, who bestows this 
 mark of benevolence. They will even, 
 perhaps, go so far as to assert, that this 
 whole system of refinement is contrary to 
 our national character, and unworthy of it. 
 It is true there have been periods in our 
 history # when these virtues could find no 
 
 * The language and manners of the deplorable time 
 to which I allude are well known. I have now before 
 
332 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 place of refuge from the storm which over- 
 threw the throne, and which threatened to 
 
 me an engraving of Phillips, who was Confessor to the 
 Queen. The inscription is as follows : 
 
 " Father Phillips, Confessor to Henrietta Maria, 
 was by many supposed to influence that bigoted prin- 
 cess to the steps which cost her husband his head." Yet 
 it must be confessed that no bad manners, no instance 
 of the feritas inamahilis 9 can offend the taste of the 
 classical student who has learned to admire the senti* 
 ment and demeanour which distinguished the Romans, 
 in their social intercourse, during the period of their 
 virtue ; who has prevailed upon his judgment to re- 
 spect such feelings as dictated the reply of Fabricius 
 to the invitation of Pyrrhus, and the censorial edict of 
 Metellus. A. U. 622. 
 
 The French, since the reign of Louis XIV., have 
 been admired by all the nations of Europe for their 
 refinement and elegance of manners ; and the loss of 
 that distinction was not the least evil that was inflicted 
 upon that country during the revolution. The accom- 
 plished La Harpe appears to feel the possibility of a 
 total forfeiture of that title which they had justly de- 
 served, of the most polished nation. " Sans doute," 
 he observes, " la nation ne renoncerajamais a. Pun des 
 avantages les plus aimables qui Paient distinguee jusqu' 
 ici. On ne detruira pas le respect des convenances 
 sociales sous pretexte d'egalite." — Cours de Littera- 
 ture, torn. ii. The manners of good company in France, 
 and those introduced by the revolution, may be re- 
 garded as the highest perfection, and the very lowest 
 debasement of the intercourse of social life. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 333 
 
 overwhelm our faith, under the mass of 
 hypocrisy, infidelity, and licentiousness, 
 which overspread the land. It is also true, 
 that in America, that land of refuge for 
 the pretended patriotism and virtue of the 
 world, these graces and peculiar disposi- 
 tions are not to be found. But, how far 
 the proud spirit of a republican # , the os- 
 
 * When 1 was in Paris some years ago, I conversed 
 with an American, who w as regarded as a man of piety 
 and of letters He asked me how we could reconcile 
 our institution of rank and hereditary distinction with 
 Christian humility. Five minutes had not elapsed, 
 when he said, with much energy, u if I were in Eng- 
 land, I could not endure that another man should take 
 the step of me, because he had a title ! !" There are 
 three facts which must astonish a youth who has been 
 brought up by republican parents. First, that there 
 should be slaves bought and sold, and established in 
 America. Secondly, that the lower orders of people 
 in England, are generally, if not always, desirous of 
 serving gentlemen instead of persons of inferior rank. 
 Thirdly, that all his republican friends in England 
 continually interlard their conversation with sayings 
 
 of his Grace the Duke of , and of my Lord • 
 
 ' and are repeating continually anecdotes which display 
 their habits of familiar intimacy with these exalted 
 personages ; and at the same time, he observes frequent 
 instances of their supercilious treatment of poor people. 
 
334 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 tentatious piety of seceders from their 
 church, the stubborn and unyielding ene- 
 mies of all subordination in civil and eccle- 
 siastical affairs, — how far their disposition 
 can be united with the meekness and gentle- 
 ness of Christ, with obedience to the indis- 
 pensable duties of his religion, nay, even 
 with submission to his kingly and supreme 
 authority # , is a discovery of which I hope 
 to remain for ever in ignorance, " Les 
 ames humbles et pacifiques," says Fenelon, 
 " qui ne vivent que de recueillement et 
 d'amour, sont toujours petites a leurs pro- 
 pres yeux, et ennemies de la contradic- 
 
 AI1 this must appear to him very unaccountable. Alas ! 
 u ingenui vultus puer !" he knows not that at Athens, 
 when Demosthenes was attacking- iEschines, his rival, 
 he began by representing his mean extraction. He 
 forgets that when Jack Cade was inspired with the 
 spirit of putting down kings and princes, he took great 
 pains to make the people suppose that his father was a 
 Mortimer and his mother a Plantagenet. 
 
 * We must not forget the fact, however absurd and 
 extravagant it may be, that the independents of Eng- 
 land actually infused their political principles in that 
 most adorable prayer of our blessed Saviour. *' Thy 
 commonwealth come," was the amended form of pe- 
 tition ! ! 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 335 
 
 tion ; elles sont bien eloigners de s'elever 
 contre le corps des pasteurs, de decider, 
 
 de condamner, de dire des injures, &c. 
 
 Les dons interieures, loin de leur inspirer 
 une elevation superbe et un sentiment d'in- 
 dependance, ne vont qu'a les aneantir, qu'a 
 les rendre plus souples et plus defiantes 
 d'elles-memes, qu'a leur faire mieux sentir 
 leurs tenebres et leur impuissance, enfin 
 qu'a les desapproprier davantage de leurs 
 pensees. O combien ont-elles horreur au 
 zele amer et de tous les combats de paroles. 
 Au lieu de la dispute elles emploient l'insi- 
 nuation, la patience et Tedification ; au 
 lieu de parler de Dieu aux hommes, elles 
 parlent des ho mines a Dieu afin qu'il les 
 touche, qu'il les persuade, et qu'il fasse en 
 eux ce que nul autre n'a pu faire." a Where 
 the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." 
 There is freedom from deceit, from pride, 
 from envy, hatred, avarice, and from the 
 thousand inextricable bands of the worldly 
 mind ; but there is not a dispensation to 
 despise ordinances, to hate and slander 
 our superiors, to be discontented with our 
 
336 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 condition, to set up our own authority 
 above that of the church, to free all men 
 from the bonds of thei? social obligation, 
 and to leave our own heart in chains. This 
 is not " the liberty of the Lord," but it is 
 the licence of hell. 
 
 This peculiar disposition of mind, which 
 produces courtesy of manner, is of high 
 moral importance, and I cannot dismiss 
 the subject without endeavouring to fix 
 this upon your memory. The same virtue, 
 arising from a different and much less ele- 
 vated principle, existed in all civilized na- 
 tions, from the earliest antiquity. It was 
 the boast of Athens; it was the virtue of 
 the stoics : it was deified in the Roman 
 mythology, who borrowed it from the 
 Greeks # ; it was panegyrized by Cicero. 
 Their precepts are express. 
 
 * There are two dissertations in two of the early 
 volumes of the Academy of Inscriptions, one by the 
 Abbe Gedo\n, upon the urbanity of the Romans; the 
 other by the Abbe Massieu, upon the poetry of the 
 Ancients, in which he explains the character of the 
 Graces ; and these are both well worthy of perusal. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 337 
 
 ^Kdewg e%£ Kpoq airavTctg, %po> de roif BeXrioroif . 
 
 And again, when they enter into the 
 detail, 
 
 To* [aev rgosrw yiva tyiXoTTgoGwyogoS, rw Ss Xoyw 
 
 ZuTtqoo'nyogos. E<m £e (piXoTrgocnyogiocs [aev, ro 
 
 3r§o<j<pG;vsiv ras" aTrocvrwvrocs' suTrqoGYiyogiocs 5e, ro 
 
 roif "koyois oLvro\s ontziws hrvyy^avsiv. 
 
 f{ Non cadit in mores feritas inamabilis istos ; 
 ********* 
 Artibus ingenuis, quarum tibi maxima cura est, 
 Pectora mollescunt, asperitasque fugit." 
 
 That delicate attention to propriety which 
 was evinced by Pisistratus, in giving the 
 cup first to Minerva, because apparently 
 older than Telemachus, seemed to Homer 
 as worthy of the applause of perfect wis- 
 dom. 
 
 Xatpe d' 'ASiyvaLr) 7rE7rvvfjLev(() avdpt ducaii}), 
 Ovveica 01 Tporepy d(OKS xpvvuov akeivov. 
 
 And we may recollect that Augustine, by 
 neglecting to rise from his seat, on the ap- 
 proach of the British Bishops to the Oak, 
 in Worcestershire, lost their assistance, 
 and defeated the great object of his mission. 
 Cicero says, in his oration for Cn. Plan- 
 Q 
 
338 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 cius, u Omitto ilia quae si minus in scena 
 sunt, at certe cum sunt prolata, laudantur : 
 ut vivat cum suis, primum cum parente, 
 Quid dicam, cum patruo ? cum affinibus ? 
 
 cumpropinquis? Atquehaec sunt indicia 
 
 Solida, judices, et expressa ; hsec signa 
 probitatis, non fucata forensi specie, sed 
 domesticis, inusta notis veritatis." 
 
 And again, in his " Orator," he says, 
 u itaque efficis, ut, cum gratise causa nihil 
 facias, omnia tarn en sint grata, quae facis." 
 
 " Quid enim tarn distans quam a severi- 
 tate comitas ? quis tamen unquam te aut 
 sanctior est habitus, aut dulcior." 
 
 And again, 
 
 " Sic profecto res se habet nullum ut sit 
 vitse tempus in quo non deceat leporem 
 humanitatemque versari 
 
 Nor was this virtue overlooked by the 
 divine Author of our religion. It is from 
 the institution of chivalry, founded upon 
 this faith, that we derive it. The perfect 
 model of all excellence, the character of 
 our blessed Saviour himself, is uniformly 
 marked with these milder features of good- 
 ness, and we may strictly, I trust, not irre- 
 * De Oratore. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 339 
 
 verently apply to his adorable manners, 
 what Cicero has said of his own master. 
 " Cujus et vita, et oratio consecuta mihi 
 videtur difficillimam illam societatem, gra- 
 vitatis cum humanitate # ." 
 
 Let it be considered, therefore, as indis- 
 putable, that courtesy is an essential qua- 
 lity in the character of a gentleman. But 
 the subject is not yet exhausted. We have 
 still to put you on your guard against a 
 mistake very prevalent in the world, which 
 tends to defeat the beneficial effect of this 
 virtue by an erroneous estimate of its real 
 nature. Nothing is more common than for 
 those who are the loudest in its praise to be 
 entirely ignorant of its character, and from 
 this very error effects the most fatal have 
 been the consequence. " I should like to 
 know," says Montague, " en quel temps 
 print commencement cette coustume, de si 
 exactement poiser et mesurer les parolles, 
 et d'y attacher nostre honneur." It is clear 
 that it did not exist among the Greeks and 
 Romans. " On appelle Cesar, tantost vo- 
 leur, tantost yvrongne, a sa barbe. We 
 
 * De Oratore, Legibus iii. 1. 
 
 Q2 
 
MO THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 see liberty of invective mutually used be- 
 tween the greatest warriors of these nations, 
 when words were only followed by words, 
 without drawing any other consequence." 
 
 So far, Montague. That this custom 
 prevailed among the Greek and Trojan 
 heroes is known to every reader of the 
 Iliad. It may be strikingly observed in 
 the language of Agamemnon, when excit- 
 ing the Greek warriors to battle, who so 
 far from evincing displeasure at his re- 
 proaches, always obey his command, and 
 sometimes even applaud his solicitude. 
 But what will, perhaps, surprise many per- 
 sons much more, is the fact that this liberty 
 of speech was practised by the knights 
 and barons of the middle ages, with the 
 same effect. When Joinville had given his 
 opinion in favour of the King remaining in 
 Palestine, the other great officers of the 
 army were highly displeased, and indulged 
 themselves in ridiculing Joinville, calling 
 him poulain, to which he used to reply, € * il 
 aimoit mieux etre poulain que chevalier 
 recrne^ that is, recreant knight. Poulain 
 signified degeneracy, from the union of a 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 34i 
 
 Syrian man with a French woman, whose 
 son was supposed to be of a base and de- 
 generate nature. Both expressions were, 
 therefore, as we should think, highly in- 
 sulting, " on ne voit pas neanmoins," says 
 Ducange, " que cette affaire ait en aucune 
 suite : ce qui prouve qu'on n'etoit point 
 si delicat qu'aujourdhui sur le point d'hon- 
 neur, ou du moins, qu' avec la meme bra- 
 voure, on scavoit mieux entendre raillerie 
 dans roccasion." Upon all occasions of 
 this kind they seem to have adopted, by 
 mutual consent, the custom Qf the Greek 
 and Trojan heroes, as described in the 
 words of Achilles to JEneas : 
 
 'O7T7r0K)V K eL7TTJ<T9a 67TO£, T010V k e7raKa<Tatg» 
 
 Sismondi observes, " Les egards mutuels 
 qu'une civilisation raffinee nous inspire les 
 uns pour les autres etaient alors peu en 
 usage ; la delicatesse du point d'honneur 
 n'etait pas dans ce siecle facilement of- 
 fensee, et quand on avait rendu injure pour 
 injure on se croyaitlave de tout reproche." 
 He refers to a " tenson" between the Mar- 
 quis Albert Malespina and Rambaud de 
 q 3 
 
342 THE EROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Vagueiras, two of the greatest seigneurs, 
 and most valliant captains, " at the com- 
 mencement of the thirteenth century, in 
 which they mutually reproach one another 
 with having robbed on the highway, and 
 with perjury." The truth is, that this 
 liberty of speech never offends when men 
 are innocent, and it is absolutely unavoid- 
 able when frankness, good humour, and 
 high spirits are united in fellowship. Who 
 that remembers his youth can forget the 
 pleasure which he gave and received by 
 indulgence of this kind ? I love that feel- 
 ing expressed by Montagne, so full of 
 truth and honesty, of benevolence and 
 good sense, " Je souffriroy estre rudement 
 heurte par mes amis ; tu es un sot, tu re- 
 sues : j'ayme entre les galans hommes, 
 qu'on s'exprime courageusement, que les 
 mots aillent ou va la pensee. II nous faut 
 fortifier 1'ouie et la durcir contre cette ten- 
 dreur du s6n ceremonieux des paroles. 
 J'ayme une societe et familiarite forte et 
 virile : une amitie qui se flatte en Tasprete # 
 
 * Yet not leading to the temper condemned by Hor. 
 Ep. I. xviii. 15. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 343 
 
 et vigueur de son commerce, comme F amour 
 en morsures et esgratigneures sanglantes." 
 
 Henry IV., of France, recapitulating, 
 before all the court, the names of the most 
 distinguished warriors, placed his hand 
 upon Crillon's shoulder, and said, f{ Mes- 
 sieures, voici le premier capitaine du 
 monde. — Vous en avez menti, Sire, c'est 
 vous," replied Crillon. 
 
 Once more then let us ask with Mon- 
 tagne, at what period was this custom 
 introduced, which obliges men to measure 
 with such delicacy the phrases of their con- 
 versation. The answer will delight those 
 who know how to love the virtues while 
 they detest the abuse and the perversion of 
 chivalry. " The opinions on the point of 
 honour/' says Sismondi, " which have had 
 such an influence not only upon chivalry 
 but upon all our modern system of civili- 
 zation, have come to us from the Arabians, 
 to whom they belong, and not to the Ger- 
 manic nations. It is from them that we 
 have derived this religion of vengeance, 
 this so delicate appreciation of offence 
 and affronts which makes them to sacrifice 
 Q4 
 
Sli THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 
 
 their lives and those of their family, to wipe 
 away a stain upon their honour, which 
 in 1568 caused to revolt all the Alpuxarra 
 of Grenada, and to perish 50,000 Moors to 
 revenge the blow of a cane given by Don 
 Juan de Mendoza to Don Juan de Malec, 
 descendant of the Aben Humeya." 
 
 From this lesson we may learn to distin- 
 guish the liberal courtesy of a gentleman 
 from the disgusting servility, the insipid 
 ceremonious monotony of the mere pre- 
 tenders to honour ; the men of dull spirits, 
 cold hearts, and affected deportment. We 
 may learn also that it is not the refinement 
 of the academy # , the attic elegance of the 
 
 * Gresset expresses his aversion to the false and 
 strained refinement of literary society: — 
 " Parmi la foule trop habile 
 Des beaux diseurs du nouveau style 
 Qui, par de bizarres detours 
 Quittant le ton de la nature 
 Repondent sur tous leurs discours. 
 L'academique enluminuse 
 Et le vernis des nouveaux tours m x 
 Je regrette la bonhomie 
 L'air loyal, I'esprit non pointu 
 Du cure de la seigneurie." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 345 
 
 man of letters, or the artificial polish of the 
 courtier that is here recommended, but the 
 natural fruit of a benevolent mind, deve- 
 loped more or less by the assistance of that 
 education, which, in this country, belongs 
 chiefly to the higher circles, and which 
 cannot exist without virtue. It is the or- 
 nament of honour, not its substitute. It 
 has been remarked that it is so unnatural a 
 thing for the Spanish court to stoop to any 
 mean action, that they always do it so un- 
 graciously, as to confess it in their own 
 countenance, and quickly to recede from 
 it ; and certainly that artful dissimulation 
 and unblushing effrontery, which men of 
 experience in base transactions know so 
 well how to practise, when they would con« 
 ceal their treachery, or win by confident 
 assurance the judgment that can be forced, 
 were unknown to chivalry, and will be for 
 ever wanting to men of honour. These dis- 
 positions of mind, this politeness and gra- 
 cious benignity which are essential to the 
 character of a gentleman, are termed phi- 
 losophy by Montagne ; and the observa- 
 Q5 
 
346 THE BflOAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 tions which he has made upon the subject, 
 are striking. 
 
 " I/ame qui loge la philosophic doit par 
 sa sante rendre sain encore le corps : elle 
 doit faire luirejusques au dehors, sonrepos, 
 et son aise : doit former a son moule le port 
 exterieur, et Farmer par consequent d'une 
 gracieuse fierte, d'un maintien actif, et 
 allaigre, et d'une coutenance contente et 
 debonnaire. La plus expresse marque dela 
 sagesse c'est une esjouissance constante." 
 In like manner, when Sir Calidore has over- 
 thrown the proud discourteous knight, he 
 says, 
 
 " By this now may ye learn 
 
 Strangers no more so rudely to entreat, 
 But put away proud look, and usage stern, 
 The which shall nought to you but foul dishonour 
 earn." 
 
 They both direct their censure against that 
 morose gravity, that disdainful pride, that 
 suspicious, ridiculous reserve, which is 
 condemned by Aristotle, and exposed by 
 Rochefoucault # , and which is now only to 
 
 * His definition of this demeanour is well known : 
 " Un mystere du corps, invente pour cacherles defauts 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 347 
 
 be observed in the vulgar class of English 
 society. Froissart relates of the gentyll 
 knight, Sir Richarde Dangle, that " he was 
 merry, true, amorous, sage, secrete, large, 
 prewe, hardy, adventurous, and chyval- 
 rous." A combination of qualities which 
 could not fail to constitute the polite and 
 accomplished gentleman. Of the Earl of 
 Foix the same historian records, that " he 
 was of good and easy acquayntance with 
 every man, and amorously wolde speke to 
 them :" and of Sir William Daucenys, that 
 he was ? ryght courtoys and swete of 
 words." Whatever opinion people of the 
 world may entertain upon the advantage 
 of the ceremonies and civilities which con- 
 tinue to be requisite in good company, the 
 real Christian has it not in his power to 
 decry or neglect them, They are adopted 
 and practised by him from a high religious 
 principle, and therefore there is no instance 
 of ill breeding in a person really religious ; 
 that is, not prof essedly religious, but who is 
 
 de Pesprit." But in the present case, it is rather to 
 conceal the want of education, and of acquaintance 
 with good company, 
 
 Q 6 
 
348 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 animated with the pure and unmixed spirit of 
 Christianity. This true politeness does not 
 indeed include that which Madame de Se- 
 vigne so well terms " un metier tuant," but 
 it certainly involves the practice of that 
 virtue which Fenelon ascribes to the na- 
 tives of every country, and which is referred 
 by Nicole to the very highest principle that 
 can influence the heart. See the f Es- 
 sais de Morale, Tom. II. de la Civilite 
 Chretienne." What a practical treatise on 
 this subject will occur to the recollection 
 of those who have lived in intimacy with 
 characters of this description, from the 
 Monks of St. Bernard and the French cu- 
 rates, to the ecclesiastics and men of ge- 
 nuine religion who belong to our own 
 church # . 
 
 Finally, to convince you that an atten- 
 tion to these smaller matters is not un- 
 worthy of your character, even without 
 reference to religious obligation, I will 
 
 * M dme . de Sevigne, in relating the conversion of 
 M dme . de Marans to a religious life, concludes with this 
 beautiful remark, " enfin elle est bieu plus aim able 
 qu'elle w'efotf." See Tom. iii. Lett. 282. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 349 
 
 present you with a sentence of Cicero, 
 whose judgment I conceive to be decisive 
 on all questions of this nature. " Sed ea 
 quae multum ab humanitate discrepant, ut 
 si quis in foro cantet aut si qua est alia 
 magna perversitas, facile apparent, nec 
 magnopere admonitionem et praecepta de- 
 siderant. Quae autem parva videntur esse 
 delicta neque a multis intelligi possunt, ab 
 iis est diligentius declinandum. Ut in 
 fidibus aut in tibiis, quamvis paulum dis- 
 crepant, tamen id a sciente animadverti 
 solet, sic videndum est in vita, ne forte 
 quid discrepet ; vel multo etiam magis, quo 
 major et melior actionum quam sonorum 
 concentus est # ." 
 
 There is a disposition of mind against 
 which all gentlemen should be on their 
 guard, for it will assuredly expose those 
 who entertain it to the just contempt of 
 every man who has had experience of the 
 world. I mean that opinion which seems 
 hereditary with the vulgar, and quite incu- 
 rable ; '* quod soli mortalium barbari noh 
 
 * De Officiis, h 
 
350 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sint," which Erasmus pleasantly attributes 
 to the happy influence of folly. I would 
 advise every gentleman to travel # , not to 
 become more self-sufficient and national 
 in faults, but more humble, and more ac- 
 quainted with the duties which belong to 
 him as a man, not to return with his tale& 
 of terror, strengthening the absurd preju- 
 dices of his own countrymen, and increas- 
 ing their contemptible antipathies to other 
 nations, but to bring back with him the 
 recollection from every country that he 
 visits, of gentlemen of honour, virtue and 
 religion. As for myself, I fully agree to 
 the truth of that opinion, " quand une fois 
 on connoit bien les hommes, aucune pre- 
 ference vive n'est possible pour telle ou 
 telle nation f." The vulgar, the multitude 
 
 * Yet what traveller has not experienced the feeling 
 expressed in the following exquisite lines of Pinde- 
 monti ? 
 
 " Oh felice chi mai non pose il piede 
 Fuori della natia sua dolce terra ; 
 Egli il cor non lascio titto in oggetti 
 Che di piu riveder non ha speranza, 
 E cio che vive ancor, mortonon piange." 
 f M dme . de Stael. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 3^1 
 
 are every where the same. The Christian 
 and the gentleman are in like manner the 
 same in every country. The advantage 
 of travel must not be estimated by what 
 many men chuse to derive, for this would 
 be to argue from its abuse. You will find 
 some who descant upon the wretchedness 
 of a country, because they found no car- 
 pets or sofas ; and others upon the charac- 
 ter of a nation, because they did not like 
 their travelling companions ; and foreigners 
 will complain quite as absurdly of our 
 trivial peculiarities which may happen to 
 offend their habits, and perhaps their pa- 
 late, " que telles gens gardent leur cuisine." 
 A great advantage to be derived from travel 
 is the acquirement of manners that will 
 characterise the gentleman in every coun- 
 try, for a facility in these will generally be 
 accompanied with a noble liberality of 
 mind, not an abandonment of our own 
 honest prejudices, (for I am not such aphi- 
 losophist as to find fault with the term) but 
 a desire to respect the prejudices of other 
 men. " A traveller," says Lord Bacon, 
 " should let it appear that he doth not 
 
352 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 change his country manners for those of 
 foreign parts ; but only pricketh in some 
 flowers of that he hath learned abroad into 
 the customs of his own country." Still let 
 it be remembered that there are prejudices, 
 pecu Parities, and even established rules of 
 good breeding belonging to each nation of 
 Europe, and that to neglect or despise these 
 when an attention to them may be required, 
 is not more indicative of contemptible stu- 
 pidity and ignorance than it is of irreli- 
 gion. There are few travellers who do not 
 need this advice, practical and common- 
 place as it may appear. This liberal and 
 Christian spirit has always been the orna- 
 ment of gentlemen. Froissart relates how 
 " the Duke Frederic of Bavaria, of hyghe 
 almayne had greatly desyred ones to bere 
 armes for them of France, and to se the 
 estate of France, for he loved all honour ; 
 also he was enfourmed that all the honour 
 of the worlde was in France and in that 
 celebrated description of the castle of the 
 Earl of Foix, he observes, " there was sene 
 in his hall, chambre and court, knights and 
 squyers of honour goyng up and downe, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 353 
 
 and talkyng of armes and of amours ; all 
 honoure ther was founde, all maner of ti- 
 dynges of every realme and countre ther 
 might be herde, for out of every countre ther 
 was resort, for the valyantnesse of this erle." 
 Upon Sir John's arrival at Ortaise, he de- 
 scended at the sign of the moon, while his 
 friend, Sir Espaenge de Lion, went to the 
 castle " and incontynent," he says, " I was 
 sente for to my lodgynge, for he was the 
 horde of all the worlde that moost desyred to 
 speke with straungers" In another place, 
 Sir John Froissart says, that Olyver de 
 Clysson, Constable of France, spoke with 
 the English knights, " and made good com- 
 pany with them in divers maners, as noble men 
 of armes ujyll do eche to other, and as Frenssh- 
 men and Englysshmen have always done." 
 And thus Eginhart relates of Charlemagne, 
 " Amabat peregrinos, et eorum suscipien- 
 dorum magnam habebat curam ; adeo, ut 
 eorum multitudo non solum palatio, verum- 
 etiam regno non immerito videretur one- 
 rosa." 
 
 Modesty is another feature of the chival- 
 
354 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 rous character # , which has distinguished 
 the brave and generous class of mankind 
 in all ages of the world. How fine is that 
 trait of ingenuous modesty in Telemachus, 
 when he replies to Mentor, who desired 
 him to address Nestor : 
 
 Mevrop, Trwg r dp' tw, Trwg r ap TvpoGT^Tv^,o\iai avrov ; 
 Ovds TL 7TW [jlvOoigi tt sir eiprj fiat, ttvkivoktiv* 
 Aid(jjg 3' av f vsov avdpa yepcurepov kZepeegQai. 
 
 Nothing can be more express than the pre- 
 cept of civalry in requiring this virtue. The 
 author of Jouvencel represents his hero in 
 the following terms : " II conduisoit tout 
 soulz la main de Dieu et en son nom pour 
 s'employer en fails notables sans vanter ou 
 haut louer soi-meme, car louenge est re- 
 putee blame en la bouche de ce lui qui se 
 loe ; mais elle exaulce celluy qui ne se 
 attribue point de loenge, mais a Dieu. Si 
 TEscuyer a vain gloire de ce qu'il a fait, il 
 n'est pas digne d'estre chevalier, car vaine 
 
 * Thus, " Faire sans dire," is the beautiful motto 
 of the noble family of Strangways, agreeable to the 
 great rule of chivalry : 
 
 " Un chevalier n'en doutez pas 
 Doit ferir haut et parler bas." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 355 
 
 gloire est ung vice qui destruit et aneantit 
 les merites et les guerdons, ou benefices 
 de chevalerie." King Perceforest, accord- 
 ing to these principles, tells his knights in 
 instructing them, " Si me souvient d'une 
 parolle que ung Hermite me dist une fois 
 pour moy chastier ; car il me dist que si 
 j'avois autant de possessions comme avoit 
 le roy Alexandre, et de sens comme le sage 
 Salomon, et de chevalerie (valeure, bra- 
 voure) comme eut le preux Hector de 
 Troye, seul orgueil s'il regnoit en moy de- 
 struiroit tout." 
 
 We shall do well to remark how the mo- 
 desty of the chivalrous character preserved 
 our ancestors from that spirit of ridicule 
 and disdain which their descendants have 
 So generally adopted in reference to their 
 companions and brethren. It was a fine 
 and honest boast of Hippolytus, which 
 might have been repeated by every knight 
 who practised the principles of his order. 
 
 Ovk kyyeXacrrriQ tiov 6fii\ovvTU)v 9 irarep, 
 'A W avrog ov irapovai icayyvg wv (piXotg. 
 
 A great indication of nobility was mild- 
 ness with an unassuming deportment. 
 
356 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 When Sir Gareth of Orkney had at length 
 prevailed over the prejudices of the da- 
 moysel, who had despised him as a kitchen- 
 boy : " ' O Jhesu, merveille have 1/ she 
 exclaimed, 6 what manner a man ye be, for 
 hit may never ben otherwise but that ye be 
 comen of a noble blood, for soo foule ne 
 shamefully dyd never woman rule a knyghte 
 as I have done you, and ever curtoisly ye 
 have suffred me, and that cam never but 
 of a gentyl blood/ as he is described in 
 another place ; * Truly, Madame/ sayd 
 Lynet unto her syster, ? wel maye he be a 
 kynge's sone, for he hath many good 
 tatches on hym, for he is curteis and mylde 
 and the moost sufFerynge man that ever I 
 mette with al/ " And we are told, that 
 while he was page of the kitchen, " he en- 
 dured alle that twelvemoneth, and never 
 displeasyd man nor chylde, but alweyes 
 he was meke and mylde # ." 
 
 * The virtue of Archedice was commemorated in 
 Lampsacus by a pillar which testified — 
 
 *H warpog re kcli avdpog, ade\<f>o)V r ovaa rvpavviov, 
 Haidu)v t\ ovk rjgBri vow eg aTavQakirjv. 
 
 Thucyd. lib. vi. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 357 
 
 The old historians speak of Godefroy de 
 Bouillon as having the wisdom of Nestor, 
 the prudence of Ulysses, the valour of 
 Achilles, the strength of a giant, " la dou- 
 ceur enfin et la vertu d'un moine qui auroit 
 l'esprit de son etat." It is worthy of re- 
 mark also that the order of u la Cosse de 
 Geneste," instituted by Saint Louis, has 
 for the motto, " exaltat humiles" Even the 
 heralds contrived a distinction to disho- 
 nour the knight who was convicted of vain 
 boasting. " He beareth Argent, a point 
 dexter parted, Ttnnh : this diminution/' says 
 Gwillim, " is due unto him that overmuch 
 boasteth himselfe." A striking instance 
 of the modesty and good sense of a true 
 gentleman who never assumes any title to 
 which he has not a right, will be found 
 in an anecdote related of Chevert, who had 
 risen from obscurity. Upon a certain oc- 
 casion, a person who sought his interest 
 
 But this peculiarity of mind, which appeared so marvel- 
 lous to the heathens, became in the age of chivalry a 
 virtue of ordinary occurrence,which every man of royal 
 or noble birth was bound to display, both by the pre- 
 cepts of his religion and by the express injunctions of 
 his order. 
 
358 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 pretended to be his relation. u Etes-vous 
 gentilhomme ?" asked Chevert. " Si je le 
 suis ! en pouvez vous douter," replied the 
 stranger, " En ce cas," answered the hero, 
 coolly, " nous ne sommes point parens ; 
 car vous voyez en moi le premier et le seul 
 gentilhomme de ma race." The force of 
 this example, without doubt, consists in 
 his acknowledging the advantage of the 
 rank to which his personal merit had raised 
 him. The vulgar, who seldom judge from 
 any impression but that of the senses, are 
 unable, or unwilling, to distinguish be- 
 tween the vanity of an upstart and the hu- 
 mility of a gentleman in filling the station 
 of life to which he has been born, and in 
 which his fathers have left him. An amus- 
 ing instance of this kind is related by Join- 
 ville, which occurred in a dispute between 
 him and Maitre Robert de Sorbonne, who 
 thought proper to censure and ridicule the 
 magnificence of the seneschal, " Et me 
 print a mon mantel," says this historian, 
 " et me demanda en presence du roi et de 
 toute la noble compagnie ; si le roi se 
 seoit en ce prael, et que vous allissiez seoir 
 
 8 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 359 
 
 en son banc plus haut que lui n'en seriez 
 vous point a blamer? Oui vraiment, re- 
 pondis-je. Or donques, fit-il, etes-vous 
 moins a blamer quand vous etes vetu plus 
 richement que lui ? Non maitre Robert, 
 lui dis-je, je ne suis mie a blamer, sauf 
 Thonneur du roi et vous. Car l'habit que 
 je porte tel que le voyez, m'ont laisse mes 
 pere et mere, et ne l'ai point fait faire de 
 mon autorite. Mais au contraire est de 
 vous, dont vous etes bien fort a reprendre : 
 vous, dis-je, qui etant fils de vilain et de 
 vilaine, avez laisse Thabit de vos pere et 
 mere, et vous etes vetu du plus fin camelin 
 que le roi n'ait. Alors je prins le pan de 
 son surcot et de celui du roi, que je joig- 
 nis, Tun pres de l'autre, et lui dis : or re- 
 gardez si j'ai dit voir." The company was 
 delighted at this just reproof, and a general 
 laugh disconcerted Master Robert, " qui 
 fut tres-esbahi." 
 
 The peculiar humanity which was re- 
 quired in war, and which certainly gave a 
 singular character to the melancholy scenes 
 of devastation which marked the protracted 
 hostilities of the French and English, dur- 
 
360 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ing the immediate influence of this spirit, 
 cannot but have struck the most superficial 
 reader of history # . The same principles 
 of modesty, says S te Palaye, induced the 
 successful knights to bestow particular 
 
 * If we turn from such scenes to observe the spirit 
 and conduct of the Greek and Trojan heroes in the 
 Iliad, what a contrast is presented! Although even 
 Hector has insulted the dying Patroclus, yet still the 
 reader is unprepared for the last horrible act, the bru- 
 tality of Achilles to the dead body of the Trojan hero. 
 Yet in the Odyss. %• 412. Homer makes Ulysses reprove 
 the exultation of Telemachus over the slain — 
 
 Ov% o(TL7j, KTCtnevounv «7t' avdpaviv evx^TaaaOai, 
 
 A sentence which expressed the general feeling of the 
 Greeks in a subsequent age. Eurip.Electra. 897.Suppl. 
 526. Phceniss. 1663. At the same time it is curious to 
 remark with relation to this virtue, the similarity ofthe 
 churl's character in all ages and countries, however far 
 removed, The description in the Andromache, of a 
 mob flying from the single victim whom they wished to 
 sacrifice, till at length he is laid at their feet by some 
 chance blow, and they turn to insult his dead body, 
 would convey an exact idea of an English mob at the 
 present day. 
 
 1 ojg tie npog yaiav ttitvsi, 
 
 Tig ov ffidrjpov Trpovfytpti ; rig ov 7rerpov 9 
 
 BaXXwr, apaGcrwv ; 
 
 Eurip. Androm. 1129. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 361 
 
 attention in comforting the vanquished, 
 and in assuaging their grief. " To-day the 
 fortune and lot of arms have given me 
 the advantage/' they used to observe on 
 these occasions : " I owe nothing to my 
 valour; to-morrow, perhaps, I shall fall 
 under the blow of an enemy less formi- 
 dable than you/' Thus Sir Calidore ad- 
 dresses the knight whom he had over- 
 thrown : 
 
 " All flesh is frail and full of fickleness, 
 
 Subject to fortune's chance, still changing new ,• 
 What haps to-day to me, to-morrow may to you V 
 
 u When two noble men encountre," says 
 King Arthur, " nedes must the one have 
 the werse, lyke as God wil suffre at that 
 tyme," and the great rule of chivalry is 
 explained in that sentence which occurs in 
 the Morte d'Arthur, " ye shold gyve mercy 
 unto them that aske mercy, for a knyte 
 withoute mercy is withoute worship." Well 
 might the Poet exclaim — 
 
 " O goodly usage of those antique times ! 
 Then honour was the meed of victory, 
 And yet the vanquished had no despightf." 
 
 * Fairy Queen, vi. f Spenser. 
 R 
 
362 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 But further, I would suggest to sueh of my 
 readers as it may more immediately con- 
 cern— 
 
 " This thought which ever bribes the beauteous kind." 
 
 That the motive which induced our brave 
 ancestors to be so careless of each other's 
 blood, was the result of a disposition which 
 in its legitimate sphere, is allied to honour, 
 to humanity, and to goodness. 
 
 <( They neither came 
 
 For pride of empire nor desire of fame. 
 
 Kings fight for kingdoms, madmen for applause, 
 
 But love for love alone ; that crowns the lover's cause." 
 
 When the governor of Calais perceived 
 the intention of the English to reduce him 
 to famine, " he constrayned/' says Frois- 
 s&rt, " all poore and meane peple to yssue 
 out of the town : and on a Wednesday, 
 ther yssued out of men, women, and chyl- 
 dren, mo than XVIIC. and as they passed 
 through the boost, they were demanded 
 why they departed, and they answered and 
 sayde, bycause they had nothyng to lyve 
 on : then the kyng dyd them that grace 
 that he suffred them to passe through his 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 363 
 
 hoost without danger, and gave 'them mete 
 and drinke to dyner, and every person ll d . 
 sterlyng in almes, for the which dyvers 
 many of them prayed for the kynges pros- 
 peryte." Even the very scenes of carnage 
 were marked with marvellous traits of ge- 
 nerosity and love. A knight of the besieg- 
 ing army had scaled the wall of a fortress, 
 and was in the act of assisting his men to 
 enter, when he was discovered by a cap- 
 tain of the garrison, who after a desperate 
 struggle succeeded in throwing him head- 
 long over the battlements, yet this captain 
 was heard to exclaim at the same moment, 
 " God have mercy on his soul, for he was a 
 gallant knight." S te Palaye therefore had 
 reason to know, that the lessons of gene- 
 rosity and humanity which were enforced 
 at tournaments, were not forgotten even 
 amidst the carnage and fury of battle. 
 " Our knights," he adds, " never lost sight 
 of the maxim, to be as compassionate after 
 victory as inflexible before it. Without 
 attempting to decide between the French 
 and English, as to which of these two na- 
 tions first introduced chivalry, the humanity 
 r2 
 
364 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and courtesy which they displayed mutu- 
 ally towards their prisoners, should make 
 them be regarded by all the nations of 
 Europe, if not as its founders, at least as its 
 most firm supporters. This alone could 
 have inspired such pure sentiments, such 
 generous actions, as those of which we see 
 repeated examples in the two nations, whilst 
 the neighbouring countries were presenting 
 the most frightful instances of cruelty and 
 barbarism # ." Froissart relates upon the 
 English arriving at the castle of Poys, in 
 which there was no body but two fayre 
 damsels, daughters to the Lord of Poys, 
 that these ladies were in danger, " and two 
 Englysshe knyghtes had not ben, Sir Joan 
 Chandos and Sir Basset : they defended 
 them, and brought them to the kynge, who 
 for his honour made them gode chere, and 
 demaunded of them why ther they wolde fay- 
 nest go ; they said to Corbe : and the kynge 
 caused them to be brought thyder without 
 paryll." But that this spirit did not prevail 
 
 * The motto of the noble family of Osborne is sin- 
 gular : — 
 
 " Pax in belJo." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 365 
 
 in Germany we have the authority of Frois- 
 sart, who relating how " Sir Wyllam of 
 Melle was prisoner with the Englysshmen, 
 and so sett to his fynaunce and so went 
 into Fraunce by his bond of obligacion, as 
 all gentylmen Englisshe and Frenche were 
 wont to do eche with other/' observes, " but 
 so dyd not the almayns, for when an almayn 
 hath taken a prisonere, he putteth hym into 
 yrons and into harde prison without any 
 pytie, to make him pay the greater fynaunce 
 and raunsome." 
 
 Every one knows what treatment the 
 French king, John, received from our 
 Black Prince, and the conduct of the King 
 in return, which is equally memorable. But 
 it may not be as generally remembered 
 what took place at the siege of Chateau- 
 neuf-de-Randon, which fortress was finally 
 surrendered to the French, or rather to the 
 shade of Du Gueselin, whose valour had 
 conducted the siege, and who died of a 
 fever before the day which had been fixed 
 upon by both parties for the surrender of 
 the English garrison. During the illness 
 of the Constable, and as soon as the phy- 
 b 3 
 
366 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sicians had declared that his life was in 
 danger, the besieged, that is the English, 
 whose fate had been determined by his life, 
 when they were informed of his situation, 
 instantly proclaimed public prayers, and 
 implored God that he would restore an 
 enemy, so formidable indeed to them, but 
 so full of virtue, so good, so generous in 
 victory, that they would consider it a 
 glory if it was to him they must surrender. 
 These are passages of history which alter- 
 nately gratify and astonish. Far less pleas- 
 ing, let it be confessed, is the perusal of 
 the annals of modern warfare. Such sen- 
 timents are no longer expected or admired. 
 Much may be ascribed to the change which 
 has taken place in the general system of 
 warfare ; something, perhaps, to the dif- 
 ferent character of our enemies, 
 
 Ov yap In Tpiocjv kciI 'Avaipv (pvXoirig alvrj, 
 'A\V rjdr] Aavaoi ye kcii aOavaroKJi [nayovrau 
 
 But after all, the consideration is equally 
 melancholy, if the hero is to be justi- 
 fied who teaches his men to hate their 
 enemies, and if such a sentiment can be 
 
t 
 
 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 367 
 
 worthy of the brave. And here, I con- 
 ceive, it may be worth while to dwell for a 
 few moments, upon contrasts of this kind, 
 which will serve to make you more fully 
 sensible of what belongs to the character 
 which you are bound to imitate. The Ro- 
 man people, in the person of their general, 
 had contracted an inglorious treaty with 
 the Samnites ; but upon the faith of that 
 treaty their army had been permitted to 
 escape. Their general, Posthumius, sur* 
 rendered himself to the enemy, and during 
 the ceremony he deliberately struck the 
 Roman ambassador, crying out, that he 
 was now a Samnite, and maintaining that 
 the treaty was broken, and that the Ro- 
 mans were justified in pursuing the war. 
 The Samnite general did not regard this 
 act of patriotism with the same admiration 
 as that with which it was doubtless viewed 
 by the republican Romans : And the deci- 
 sion which we ourselves shall come to upon 
 a consideration of the deed, will be a to- 
 lerable criterion of our advance in the spirit 
 of the chivalrous age. 
 
 When the fortunes of King James II. 
 r4 
 
368 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 became desperate, he desired an interview 
 with the Bishops, who were within a cer- 
 tain distance of the court. Four prelates 
 attended, two of whom, the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury, and the Bishop of Peter- 
 borough, were in the number of the seven 
 who had been put on their trial by order of 
 the King. They were now questioned by 
 James touching the invader's declaration. 
 The Bishop of London, whose political 
 principles, at least in this instance, over- 
 came those of his religion, replied by an 
 artful falsehood. But the conduct of his 
 brethren was equally illustrative of that 
 vice common to men of low origin, until 
 religion has inspired them with the same 
 graces which, from human motives, are 
 essential in persons of a higher rank. San- 
 croft reminded the King that he had been 
 put on his trial, and had given himself for 
 lost. " I thank you for that, my Lord of 
 Canterbury/' said the King, (let it be re- 
 membered that he now lay at the feet, as it 
 were, of these subjects, whom he had grie- 
 vously injured, and of whom he was now 
 a supplicant.) The Archbishop went on, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 869 
 
 and in a speech of great length recapitu- 
 lated all the proceedings of the trial against 
 him and his brethren ; the other Bishops 
 continued the complaint, in accusing their, 
 judges of improper language. " There was 
 another of your judges, Sir, Baron R., who 
 attacked us in another manner, and endea- 
 voured to expose us to ridicule, alleging 
 that we did not write true English, and it 
 was fit we should be convicted by Dr. 
 Busby of false grammar." — f* Sir, that was 
 not all," cried another, " the same judge, 
 as we are certainly informed, presumed to 
 
 " " My Lord," said the King, for he 
 
 at length interrupted these loud speakers, 
 whom religion unhappily had not supplied 
 with the common feelings and delicacy of 
 gentlemen, " My Lord, this is querelle 
 d'Allemand : all this is a matter quite out 
 of the way. I thought this had been all 
 forgotten." 
 
 Henry VIII. dispatched embassadors to 
 Bologna, where Pope Clement and the Em- 
 peror Charles V. were residing, the object 
 of whose mission was to further his divorce 
 with the good Queen Catherine. The charge 
 r5 
 
570 The broad stone of honour. 
 
 was intrusted to the father of his mistress, 
 created Earl of Wiltshire, who, though 
 deemed by most men an objectionable 
 agent, was chosen by Henry, as he de- 
 clared, because no one could be more inte- 
 rested in the event of the mission than the man 
 whose daughter would reap the fruit of it. 
 When the ambassadors were introduced to 
 Charles, that prince did not conceal his 
 feelings at the sight of the father of her 
 who was the rival of his aunt. u Stop, Sir," 
 said the Emperor, " allow your colleagues 
 to speak. You are a party in the cause." 
 As the price of his consent the embassadors 
 offered to Charles the sum of 300,000 crowns, 
 the restoration of the marriage portion paid 
 with Catherine, and security for a mainte- 
 nance suitable to her birth during life. But 
 he replied, that " he was not a merchant, 
 to sell the honour of his aunt. The cause 
 was now before the proper tribunal. If 
 the Pope should decide in her favour he 
 would support her cause with all the means 
 which God had placed at his disposal." 
 
 The account which is given by the French 
 historians, of the faction which appeared 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 371 
 
 under the name of the Jacquerie, and 
 which spread itself over a great part of 
 France, is one of the most remarkable in 
 the history of that country. I will select a 
 famous anecdote of the time, which will 
 display the contrast between the character 
 of the knights, and that of the faction 
 which was opposed to them. More than a 
 hundred thousand armed peasants, resolved 
 to exterminate the nobility ; they ravaged 
 the country, burned the castles, and laid 
 hands upon all knights, and squires, and 
 gentlemen, and did not spare even women 
 or children. Their number increased as 
 they spread through the provinces. To 
 display their inveterate aversion to the 
 nobles, as if they had wished to insult the 
 gentleness and humanity of the knights, 
 they made a virtue of the most brutal fe- 
 rocity and barbarous/ inhumanity. When 
 they were brought before officers of justice, 
 and required to state their reasons for such 
 a conduct, they replied, that they could 
 not tell ; and that they knew no reason, 
 but that they wished to exterminate all 
 gentlemen. The Duchess of Normandy, 
 r 6 
 
372 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 wife of the Regent, (afterwards Charles 
 V.) the Duchess of Orleans, and three 
 hundred ladies, were at Meaux with the 
 Duke of Orleans, where they were exposed 
 to the danger. Some detachments of these 
 desperadoes, accompanied by ruffians who 
 had come from Paris and its environs, were 
 regarding their prey as certain. The inha- 
 bitants of the town were in concert with 
 the plunderers. They had opened their 
 gates, and had forced the ladies to take re- 
 fuge in the place which is called the mar- 
 ket of Meaux, which is separated from the 
 rest of the city by the river Marne. The 
 danger was extreme. There was no excess 
 that was not to be expected from this law- 
 less banditti, whom nothing could appease, 
 and who respected nothing. It was at 
 Chalons that the Count de Foix and Captal 
 de Buch, were informed of this fatal event ; 
 and although they had only sixty lances, 
 that is, sixty knights with their usual suite 
 they immediately resolved to march to the 
 assistance of the small troop which de- 
 fended the fortress of Meaux. The honour 
 of the ladies did not permit the Count de 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 373 
 
 Foix to reflect upon the danger, nor Cap- 
 tal de Buch to consider that he was an 
 Englishman ; he anxiously availed himself 
 of the liberty which was afforded by the 
 treaty between France and England, to 
 follow that sentiment which was more 
 deeply rooted in the heart of a knight, 
 than all national enmity. They were both 
 near the Duke of Orleans, when the Jac- 
 quiers in a body prepared to make an at- 
 tack from all sides, and to gather the re- 
 ward of their labours. Our brave knights 
 and their suite had no other prospect than 
 certain death, nor any other ramparts to 
 oppose to the rebels than the banners of 
 Orleans, and De Foix, and the Captal's 
 flag. They ordered the gates to be opened, 
 and marched boldly against the enemy. At 
 this spectacle, terror seized the troops of 
 the Jacquerie ; the knights charged through 
 their broken ranks, killed seven thousand, 
 and returned in triumph to the ladies. 
 
 Similar instances may be found in the 
 history of our own country, particularly 
 in the war with the tyrant parliament in 
 the reign of Charles I. u It was an obser- 
 
374 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 vation," says Lord Clarendon, " of that 
 time, that the men of most licentious lives, 
 who appeared to be without any sense of 
 religion, or reverence to virtue, and the 
 most unrestrained by any obligations of 
 conscience, betook themselves to that 
 party, and pretended an impulse of religion 
 out of fear of popery." So also the English 
 rebels, who made war upon women too \ 
 witness their brutal assault upon the house 
 of the Countess of Rivers, near Colchester, 
 where they destroyed valuable goods to 
 the amount of forty thousand pounds, the 
 Countess hardly escaping with her life, after 
 great insolence had been used to her per- 
 son, and for which outrage the parliament 
 would give no redress ; witness also the 
 discharge of a hundred cannon loaded with 
 cross-bar shot, for the space of two hours, 
 from four of the King's ships, in Burling- 
 ton road, commanded by Batten, vice-ad- 
 miral to the Earl of Warwick, upon the 
 house where the Queen was lodged, where- 
 upon she was forced out of her bed, some 
 of the shot making way through her own 
 chamber, and to shelter herself under a 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 375 
 
 bank in the open fields ; " which barba- 
 rous act," says Lord Clarendon, M was so 
 much the more odious, in that the parlia- 
 ment never so far took notice of it as to 
 disavow it. So that many believed it was 
 very pleasing to, if not commanded by 
 them witness also the cruelty of the 
 rebel army after the battle of Naseby, 
 when they killed in the pursuit above one 
 hundred women, some of whom were the 
 wives of officers of quality : — these base 
 and execrable rebels, I say, had one sin more 
 than even the Jacquerie, which was hypo- 
 crisy, alone sufficient to make them the 
 cowards that they were. Certainly the fact 
 of their cowardice is as unquestionable as 
 their treason # . Mr. John Digby, Sir John 
 Stowel and his sons, with some volunteer 
 gentlemen, being in the whole not above 
 fourscore horse, and fourteen dragoons, 
 charged a greater body of horse, and above 
 six hundred foot of the rebels, led by a 
 
 * The saying of Cromwell gave great offence, a that 
 their army would be good for nothing until they could 
 enlist some gentlemen's sons to give spirit to the 
 rest." 
 
376 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 member of the House of Commons ; and, 
 without the loss of one man, killed seven 
 in the place, took their chief officers, and 
 as many more prisoners as they would ; 
 and so routed the whole body, that six men 
 kept not together, they having all thrown 
 down their arms. And Lord Clarendon 
 tells us that he had heard many knowing 
 men, and some who were then in the city 
 regiments say, that when the Earl of Es- 
 sex's army, and the trained bands of Lon- 
 don, were led out upon the heath near 
 Brentford, their numbers, without the ad- 
 vantage of equipage (which to soldiers is 
 a great addition of mettle) being five times 
 greater than the King s harassed, weather- 
 beaten, and half-starved little handful of 
 men — then if the King had advanced and 
 charged that massive body, it had pre- 
 sently given ground. Such is the power 
 of virtue, when men of honour trust to it 
 alone. 
 
 But I must not omit to mention one fea- 
 ture in the chivalrous character which is 
 peculiarly striking, and the imitation of 
 which, although now impossible, is too fre- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 377 
 
 quently pretended in justification of a prac- 
 tice which is utterly without precedent in 
 these ancient times, and for which, certainly, 
 as the state and opinions of the world exist, 
 no excuse can ever avail. I allude to the 
 practice of duelling. I shall not trouble 
 you with many words upon the subject. 
 The duel of the ancient knights arose from 
 their excess of faith, if the term can be per- 
 mitted to a layman. It was an appeal to 
 heaven, and the Almighty was supposed to 
 interfere in pronouncing upon the guilty. 
 The motto of the Spencer family professes 
 this principle : — " Dieu defend le droit," 
 which is true in metaphysical strictness, 
 since as a king exclaims — 
 
 " What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted 1 
 Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just ; 
 And he but naked, though loek'd up in steel, 
 Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted 
 
 It was an appeal to heaven when the Mar- 
 quis of Mantua, as described in the famous 
 ballad, takes an oath in the hermit's cell, 
 upon the death of his nephew Baldwin, not 
 
 * Shakspeare, Hen. VI. 2d Part, Act iii. Scene 2. 
 
378 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 to use a razor, or change his clothes, not to 
 enter town or city, or be unarmed, or eat 
 on a table cloth, or occupy a seat at board, 
 for he adds — 
 
 " Till I see Carlotto punish'd 
 Or by justice, or in fight 
 Till he dies when I accuse him, 
 Pleading- in the cause of right." 
 
 Consistent with these views was the prac- 
 tice of the time. The duellists prepared 
 themselves by prayer, and by receiving the 
 sacraments of the Church : their arms were 
 blessed by the priest, — they fought, and 
 the result was the judgment of God. This 
 was the ancient duel. But for the modern 
 practice, for that unmeaning association of 
 revenge and honour ; of infidelity with the 
 customs of men who believed in the actual 
 interposition of the Deity, to decide be- 
 tween man and man ; for this practice there 
 is no precedent in the annals of chivalry. 
 It is for the Clergy to pronounce upon the 
 sin of duelling, and upon the danger in 
 which it will involve the soul # : it is for me 
 
 * Richardson's hero, relating his answer to a chal- 
 lenge which he had received in Italy, and in which he 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 379 
 
 to represent to you that it is by other deeds 
 you will have to manifest and defend your 
 character. It is for the swaggering upstart 
 who is but just risen out of nameless in- 
 significance, or for the vain carpet knights 
 
 'stto) [laXa elSora $&pi$og aXicrjg, 
 
 to boast and to talk high of his courage, 
 
 had expressed his unwillingness to risk the final perdi- 
 tion of his adversary as of himself, concludes with ob- 
 serving, that 66 this hint of a still superior considera- 
 tion was likely to have more force in that Roman Ca- 
 tholic country, than, I am sorry to say, it would in this 
 Protestant one. ,, The truth is, that the church on the 
 continent of Europe has uniformly and loudly ex- 
 pressed its abhorrence of duelling. In the ninth cen- 
 tury, at the third Council of Valence in Dauphiny, it 
 excommunicated all duellists, forbidding their bodies 
 to be buried with Christian burial. The Canon of this 
 Council has been confirmed by five Popes, and by a 
 decree of the Council of Trent. Finally, in 1654, at 
 the General Assembly of the Clergy of France, the de* 
 cree against them was extended to all who were volun- 
 tary witnesses of a duel, and absolution from the sen- 
 tence of excommunication was reserved solely for the 
 Bishops. Our English dissenters cannot indeed be 
 pressed with such authority, but I conceive that all 
 gentlemen who are sons of the Church, must, by the 
 very principles of their order, acknowledge their duty 
 of obedience to its lawful decree. 
 
380 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 his honour, and his dignity. " II n'y a 
 rien que de monstreux," says Sully, " dans 
 la demarche de deux petits-maitres, qui 
 s'en vout furtivement sur le pre, tremper 
 dans le sang Tun de 1'autre des mains pous- 
 sees par un instinct tout pareil a celui des 
 betes carnassieres/' The true gentleman 
 holds his honour, not upon his tongue, but 
 in his heart. Your station and habits of 
 life will remove you at a distance from 
 vulgar society, where cowardice may be 
 awed into order, and savage licence be re- 
 strained by the certainty of punishment ; 
 and with gentlemen it is almost impossible 
 for any occasion of difficulty to arise, as 
 long as you conduct yourself with honour 
 and integrity, with prudence and good sense. 
 In another place we have seen removed one 
 great cause of the quarrels which disturb 
 inferior society. We have seen that an over- 
 scrupulous attention to words in conversa- 
 tion, and a delicate sensibility to rough 
 raillery, are unworthy of gentlemen and 
 gallant men. We have seen that the cus- 
 tom of resenting such injury is not derived 
 from our chivalrous ancestors, but from the 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 381 
 
 Arabians, with whom, I presume, we need 
 not claim a fellowship. Finally, we are 
 aware that the duel of the ancient knights 
 was an act of religion, of law, and of jus- 
 tice, however ill understood ; and we need 
 hardly be informed that at the present day, 
 a single combat by appointment under or- 
 dinary circumstances, is an act of impiety, 
 of outrage to the law, and of the highest 
 possible injustice. The most heroic mo- 
 narchs of Europe have endeavoured to pre- 
 vent this abuse of the ancient duel. The 
 legislation of the French monarchs presents 
 a continued effort to repress the practice 
 of duelling. Saint Louis substituted evi- 
 dence and written proofs, instead of judi- 
 ciary combat : his ordonnance was con- 
 firmed, in 1303, by Philippe le Bel ; Charles 
 IX. declared it high treason. Henry IV # . 
 made it death, and he appointed the Mares- 
 chals of France to decide upon particular 
 cases. This was confirmed, in 1626, by 
 Louis XIII ; under whose reign the Counts 
 Montmorenci, Bouteville, and Deschapel- 
 
 * The conversation of this monarch with Sully, as 
 related in the memoirs of this minister, should be read. 
 
382 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 les were found guilty, and executed by a 
 sentence of the Parliament. Louis XIV. 
 published his code, which pursued other 
 measures. By this law, the seconds as 
 well as the principals were punished with 
 death, and forfeiture of nobility. This was 
 confirmed by Louis XV. In England the 
 law is express in denouncing punishment 
 upon duellists, regarding their crime ac- 
 cording to circumstances, either as murder, 
 manslaughters misdemeanor. Duelling has 
 been much more frequent in England than 
 in France # ; yet in the latter country, from 
 the reign of Henry IV. to 1757, there were 
 twelve ordonnances, and at least eight acts 
 of regulation, each of which is introduced 
 by a confession that the act preceding it 
 had been ineffectual. Such was the result 
 to be expected. Edicts may follow and 
 confirm edicts, but laws and acts of Par- 
 liament f are of little avail in the prevention 
 
 * Duelling* will always increase with pride, gloom, 
 and discontent ; and we must confess that these fea- 
 tures do not belong to the French national character. 
 
 f The absolute authority of Louis XIV. was inca- 
 pable of securing obedience to his edicts in this parti- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR* 383 
 
 of an evil which is not regarded as a crime. 
 The best writers upon the subject have 
 placed their hopes of its ultimate suppres- 
 sion, in the improving knowledge and virtue 
 of mankind, and in the consequent change 
 of public opinion, in the absence of all re- 
 straint upon such as wish to distinguish 
 themselves in this character, and they might 
 have added, in the deserved contempt with 
 which, sooner or later, a custom must in- 
 evitably be regarded which can derive sup- 
 port neither from the virtue nor from the 
 rank of its followers. The remark of the 
 Chevalier de Savarin, in his historical and 
 critical essay on duelling, may explain this 
 more clearly : he observes, " il nous semble 
 aussi que le prejuge du point d'honneur 
 perd de sa force depuis qu'il appartient a 
 tout le monde, et peut etre, jamais le temps 
 ne fut-il mieux choisi pour pouvoir sans in- 
 convenient mepriser, ou pardonner une in- 
 jure." 
 
 cular ; and how were private gentlemen to have re- 
 course to the laws, when the Comte d'Artois, brother 
 to the reigning King Louis XVI., accepted a challenge, 
 and fought before all Paris in the bois de Boulogne } 
 
 8 
 
384 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 There are few if any virtues belonging 
 to the character of your order, or indeed 
 that can adorn human nature, which we 
 have not considered ; but before I conclude 
 what this part of my undertaking requires, 
 I wish to remind you, in a general way, of 
 two grand features which have distinguished 
 it from its commencement. Its influence 
 upon the female sex, and its simplicity as 
 favourable to virtue. The limits of this 
 work will prevent me from giving either of 
 these subjects the degree of study and at- 
 tention which they deserve, but in a book 
 which is written under the favour and cor- 
 rection of all noble gentlewomen, and in an 
 attempt to bring back the members of our 
 high order to the virtue of its first founders, 
 it would be quite unpardonable were I to 
 omit some allusion to them. And first with 
 respect to the influence of chivalry upon 
 the female sex. This is a vast subject upon 
 which alone volumes might be written. I 
 can pretend to no higher office than that of 
 reminding you of truths which are admitted 
 upon undoubted authority ; nor, perhaps, 
 can I discharge a more effectual service, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 385 
 
 than by inducing you to consult the work of 
 the accomplished Segur. " From the age 
 of the Patriarchs to within a period very 
 near our own time," says this elegant writer, 
 " women were only splendid slaves,who,*like 
 victims crowned with flowers, announced 
 by their decoration the sacrifice to which 
 they were destined by those who ought to 
 have admired, respected, and protected 
 them. ,, In Egypt, indeed, their slavery as- 
 sumed a less cruel character ; but through- 
 out the other vast nations of the East, it 
 was unlimited. In China it continues so to 
 this day. If we pass to more civilized na- 
 tions, in ancient Greece women were held in 
 the most complete subjection, their minds 
 condemned to ignorance # , and their per- 
 
 * Ladies should ever be jealous of an extreme at- 
 tachment to the classic authors. Who can doubt 
 whence Montagne derived his notion. u La plus utile 
 et honnorable science et occupation a une femme c'est 
 la science du mesnage" 
 
 The sentiments of Homer form an exception to thi* 
 charge. He speaks of marriage with respect and re- 
 gard, Odyss. vi. 182. : and a similar testimony is ex- 
 torted even from Euripides. 
 
 Vafxoi d' baoiQ pep tv KaOetrrctffiv Bporwv, 
 
 MaKctpiog ai(t)V 
 
 S 
 
386 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sons to confinement ; and even in Rome 
 their lives were at the disposal of their 
 husbands. Thus, before Christianity, one 
 half of the human race was condemned by 
 the injustice and tyranny of the other, to a 
 servile subjection. But now was at length 
 justice rendered to the most lovely of the 
 Creator's works. Being Christians, women 
 had now, for the first time, hope ; the 
 world being subdued to that religion, they 
 were restored to their original dignity ; 
 they exchanged the command over the 
 senses for an empire in the heart. This 
 was confirmed to them by the influence of 
 chivalry ; wherever it prevailed, women re- 
 covered their rights, and the intention of 
 their Creator was fulfilled ; wherever it was 
 overthrown, they sunk again into subjec- 
 tion, and the gracious provision of nature 
 for the comfort and correction of our im- 
 perfect race was justly forfeited. And this 
 is actually the situation of women, still 
 depending for their influence and dignity 
 upon the continuance of this chivalrous 
 spirit, that is, upon the power of your order 
 to assert their rights. We have seen, in 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 387 
 
 other places, that every opposition to this 
 order has been accompanied by a total 
 abandonment of all respect and affection 
 and tenderness for the female sex. The 
 French philosophers, in the reign of Louis 
 XV., before they effected the demoraliza- 
 tion of France and of Europe, had de- 
 graded women, and reduced them to their 
 former state of obscurity. In France, dur- 
 ing the revolution, and since that period, 
 under the usurpation of Buonaparte, and 
 even to the present day, the party which 
 is absurdly called liberal, is not more easily 
 recognized by its hatred to Christianity 
 and to the chivalrous system than it is by 
 the most sovereign contempt for the female 
 sex, and by even an affectation of the most 
 brutal insensibility to all the charms of 
 their character. In perusing the annals of 
 that dark period we must observe that the 
 enemies of religion, and of its institutions 
 were in every instance the advocates of 
 whatever tended to counteract the influ- 
 ence, to depreciate the merit, and to insult 
 the dignity of the female sex. 
 
 s 2 
 
388 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 The happiness and dignity of women are 
 therefore identified with the influence of 
 the chivalrous spirit. Let them remember, 
 and well reflect upon this truth before they 
 lend their assistance to a philosophy which, 
 from its very origine, must for ever despise 
 them : let them pause before they assist to 
 overthrow those ancient bulwarks of ho- 
 nour, the institutions belonging to the chi- 
 valrous system ; for when these shall fail, 
 they may assuredly bid adieu to dignity 
 and influence, to all that makes beauty 
 enviable, and their existence dear # . 
 
 So much then for the fact of this influ- 
 ence of chivalry upon the female sex. Let 
 us endeavour to learn precisely what were 
 its effects, and in what it consisted. Its 
 effects may be stated in few words, women 
 were placed in that particular rank where 
 
 * And yet there are women who lend what assist- 
 ance they can to this system of reforming the world, 
 and are praised by men of genius, who, in opposition 
 to Christianity, are almost below the vulgar, whose 
 works are so truly said to be " fearless," and I trust 
 may long continue to be with truth " matchless," mu- 
 tuum muli scabunt, says Erasmus. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 389 
 
 their virtues . were best developed, and 
 where their influence upon the ruder sex 
 was most beneficial. *f II est une sorte de 
 superiorite," says Segur, " que les femmes 
 doivent conserver sur nous, et qui tient 
 rneme a leur foiblesse, au respect qu'elles 
 inspirent. Elle est plus facile h sentir qu' 
 a exprimer. II en est une autre qui tient 
 a la dignite de l'homme, que non seulement 
 sa compagne reconnoit, mais qu'elle ne lui 
 pardonne meme pas de lui sacrificr." It 
 was from losing sight of this latter distinc- 
 tion that arose the absurd and pernicious 
 cases of base influence which were at one 
 period the scandal of the French court ; 
 and there is no departure from the dictates 
 of wisdom and propriety more contrary to 
 the chivalrous spirit, than this very abuse 
 of female influence. But, on the other 
 hand, how admirable were its effects when 
 confined by this generous spirit to its pro- 
 per and legitimate sphere. Women, sus- 
 tained by the hand of chivalry in the place 
 appointed by their Creator, prompted man 
 to the pursuit of virtue. 
 
 8 3 
 
390 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 For love does always bring forth bounteous deeds, 
 And in each gentle heart desire of honour breeds." 
 
 They sacrificed with pleasure their own feel- 
 ings for the sake of his duty ; they became 
 his adviser, his support, his consolation in 
 trouble, and the source of his purest ter- 
 restrial joy. These are the objects of their 
 mission upon the earth, and these they were 
 now permitted to fulfil. Love was then the 
 handmaid of religion and of manly virtue ; 
 it was not the cold impiety or the morbid 
 sensibility of the calculating and repining 
 wretch # , who dared to dress it in such base 
 disguise ; well might he wish for a more vir- 
 tuous age than that which would delight in 
 such a counterfeit of the human heart ; but 
 he that sung the loves of chivalry had a 
 noble theme, unworthy of man in no condi- 
 tion to which he is destined on this side of 
 eternity f. 
 
 But if the spirit of chivalry secured li- 
 berty to the female sex, it also in a most 
 
 * The author of the Nouvelle Heloise. 
 f Such for instance as the tale of Elerz and Zu* 
 nilda, by Segur. 
 
1*HE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 391 
 
 remarkable manner rendered them worthy 
 of it. We need appeal to no other example 
 than that of the Countess of Salisbury, in 
 the reign of Edward III. as related by Sir 
 John Froissart. The dignity and grace with 
 which this lady replied to the king, who 
 was guest in her castle, cannot be surpassed 
 by any passage in history or romance. — 
 " The king prepared to draw after the Scot- 
 tes," says the historian, " and he toke leave 
 of the lady, say en g, my dere lady, to God 
 I commende you tyll I returne agayne, re- 
 quiryng you to advyse you otherwyse than 
 ye have sayd to me : noble prince, quoth 
 the lady, God the father glorious be your 
 conduct, and put you out of all vylane 
 thoughtes ; Sir, I am, and ever shall be redy 
 to do your grace servyce to your honour 
 and to myne ; therwith the kyng departed 
 all abasshed." 
 
 It may be observed in a general way, 
 that the chivalrous spirit was equal in its 
 influence upon both sexes, the same vir- 
 tues being required from each where the 
 nature of the case would permit. Of these, 
 firmness and an exemption from unworthy 
 s4 
 
392 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 weakness, may be selected as the most de- 
 serving of attention. When D'Aguesseau 
 had determined to resist Louis XIV. and his 
 chancellor, he informed his wife upon wish- 
 ing her farewell, that it was probable he 
 should have to sleep in the Bastile. The 
 reply of that lady is upon record : " allez 
 Monsieur, et agissez comme si vous n'aviez 
 ni femme ni enfants ; j'aime mieux vous 
 voir conduire a la Bastille avec honneur 
 que de vous voir revenir ici deshonore." 
 Hence it was that their advice was never 
 neglected or despised. When the Sultan 
 was about to deliver Louis IX. he enquired 
 what money the French king would give for 
 his ransom, to which Louis replied, " C'est 
 au Sultan a s'expliquer : si ses propositions 
 sont raisonnables je manderai a la reine de 
 lui faire compter ce qui sera convenu." The 
 infidels were lost in astonishment at such 
 respect for a woman. u C'est," replied the 
 king, " qu'elle est ma dame et ma com- 
 pagne :" and upon that memorable occa- 
 >sion,whenhe was hesitating between a clois- 
 ter and his crown, " si ce que j'entends est 
 vrai," he said to his advisers, " comme je 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 393 
 
 le crois d'esprit et de cceur, je suivrai votre 
 conseil ; mais je ne puis rien que du con- 
 sentement de la reine : sa vertu et mes en- 
 gagement vis-a-vis d'elle, ne me permittent 
 pas de rien conclure sans sa participation." 
 The result is well known, as presenting an 
 instance of the ingenuity and excellence 
 of the female mind. Yet it was the power 
 of affection and of tenderness which influ- 
 enced him, certainly not a weakness un- 
 worthy of a king and of a man. It was in 
 his private chapel that he was made ac- 
 quainted with the death of his Queen Mar- 
 guerite. He uttered a great cry, and burst 
 into tears, but recollecting in whose pre- 
 sence he was placed, he fell upon his knees 
 before the altar, and exclaimed, f Je vous 
 rends graces ; O mon Dieu, de m'avoir con- 
 serve jusqu' ici une mere si digne de toute 
 mon affection. C'etoit un present de votre 
 misericorde : vous le reprenez comme votre 
 bien ; je n'ai point a m'en plaindre. II est 
 vrai que je Taimois tendrement ; mais puis- 
 qu'il vous plait de me Poter, que votre saint 
 nom soit beni dans tous les siecles." 
 Segur has said, that if we impartially re- 
 s5 
 
S94 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 view the conduct of women in every coun- 
 try, we shall be convinced that without 
 exercising any particular office, they have 
 rendered as great service as men. It is the 
 professed object of this order, to teach wo- 
 men that all the virtues of their character 
 should be developed. It never was the spirit 
 of chivalry to prescribe duties of danger 
 to women, excepting upon cases of emer- 
 gency, but then it certainly did require that 
 they should exert that courage and intrepi- 
 dity of soul with which nature has endowed 
 them. They who engage upon ordinary 
 occasions in the exercises appropriated to 
 men, will almost always in moments of diffi- 
 culty, claim the privilege of their weak- 
 ness ; and they who appear in general to 
 be the most delicate and incapable of any 
 manly office, are nevertheless the very per- 
 sons who will astonish the world by their 
 spirit and their ability, equal at least, if not 
 even superior to that of men, when the crisis 
 arrives in which alone nature intended such 
 qualities to be exercised. It may be worth 
 while to select a few instances from history 
 of the courage displayed by gentlewomen 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 395 
 
 of honour upon extraordinary occasions of 
 this kind. We may propose the examples 
 of Marguerite of Anjou, of Marguerite de 
 Bethune, wife of the Duke of Rohan, of 
 the Empress Maria Theresa, of the Coun- 
 tess of Montford, in the reign of our Edward 
 III. of whom Froissart says, in relating the 
 battle of Guernsey, " the Countess that 
 day was worth a man : she had the harte of 
 a lyon." When the Britons rode before the 
 castel PArcher, Du Guesclin sent to the 
 lady, " wyfe to Sir Richard Dangle, w 7 ho 
 was then within, to yelde up the castel; 
 and she desyred to have assurance that she 
 might go to Poictiers, to speke with the 
 Duke of Berry : the constable granted her 
 desyre, and caused her to be conveyed 
 thyder by one of his knyghtes ; and whan 
 she came before the Duke, she kneled 
 downe, and the Duke toke her up, and de- 
 maunded what was her request ; Sir, quoth 
 she, I am required by the constable of 
 France that I shulde put me and my landes 
 under the obeysaunce of the Frenche kyng ; 
 and Sir, ye knowe well that my lord and 
 husbande lyeth yet prisoner in Spayne, and 
 s6 
 
396 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Sir, his lande is in my governance ; I am a 
 woman of small defence, and Sir, I can not 
 do with the heritage of my hmbande at 
 myne owne pleasure, for peradventure if I 
 shulde do any thynge agaynste his pleasure, 
 he wolde can me no thanke therfore ; and 
 so shulde I be blamed ; but, Sir, to appease 
 you, and to set my land in peace, I shall 
 compound with you for myself and all 
 myne, that we shall make you no warr, so 
 that ye wyll make no warr to us ; and Sir, 
 whan my husband is come out of prison, I 
 beleve well he wyll drawe into Englande, 
 than I shall send hym worde of this com- 
 posicion, and than, Sir, I am sure he wyll 
 sende me his mynde, and then I shall 
 answere you." The terms were accepted, 
 and the lady had the happiness of behold- 
 ing the constable and his army withdrawing 
 from the castle. 
 
 Equally memorable, though of less cele- 
 brity, was the conduct of that excellent lady 
 Offalia*, from whom we boast our descent, 
 
 * This lady was the widow of Sir Robert Digby, the 
 only daughter of Gerald, eldest son of Gerald, Earl of 
 Kildare, (who died before his father, brother of Thomas, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 397 
 
 bearing the arms of her family, a field ar- 
 gent, a saltire gules, quarterly upon our 
 paternal coat, who was besieged in her 
 castle of Geashill, in the King's county, in 
 Ireland, by an army of the rebels, in the 
 year 1642. The following letter was sent to 
 the castle previous to the attack. 
 
 " Honourable, we his Majesty's loyal 
 subjects, being at present employed in his 
 highnesses service, for the taking of this 
 your castle, you are therefore to deliver 
 unto us free possession of your said castle, 
 promising faithfully that your ladyship, 
 together with the rest in the said castle 
 restant, shall have a reasonable composi- 
 tion. Otherwise upon the not yielding of 
 the castle, we do assure you we will burn 
 the whole town, kill all the Protestants, 
 and spare neither man, woman, nor child, 
 upon taking the castle. Consider, Madam, 
 of this our offer, and impute not the blame 
 of your own folly unto us. Think not that 
 
 beheaded 28th of Henry VIII.) She was entitled Lady 
 Offalia, by the special favour of King James, in a ward 
 betwixt her and George, late Earl of Kildare ; other- 
 wise she could not have borne that title which belonged 
 ta the eldest sons of the Earl of Kildare. 
 
398 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 here we brag. Your ladyship, upon sub- 
 mission, shall have a safe convoy to secure 
 you from the hands of your enemies, and 
 to lead you where you please. A speedy 
 reply is desired, with all expedition, and 
 thus we surcease." Here followed the sig- 
 natures, superscribed to the honourable 
 and thrice virtuous Lady Digby« The fol- 
 lowing was her answer. 
 
 ** I received your letter, wherein you 
 threaten to sack this my castle, by his Ma- 
 jesty's authority. I am, and ever have 
 been, a loyal subject, and a good neigh- 
 bour amongst you, and therefore cannot 
 but wonder at such an assault. I thank 
 you for your offer of a convoy, wherein I 
 hold little safety ; and therefore my reso- 
 lution is, that being free from offending 
 his Majesty, or doing any wrong to any of 
 you, I will live and die innocently, and 
 will do my best to defend my own, leaving 
 the issue to God ; and though I have been, 
 and still am, desirous to avoid the shed- 
 ding of Christian blood, yet being pro- 
 voked your threats shall no whit dismay me. 
 
 * Lettice Offalia." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 399 
 
 Philip Sidney, Lord Viscount Lisle, eldest 
 son of the Earl of Leicester, Lord lieute- 
 nant of Ireland, immediately upon landing 
 at Dublin, undertook the relieving of this 
 castle, which he effected with 120 foot and 
 300 horse, accompanied by Sir Charles 
 Coote. 
 
 When Englishmen record instances of 
 female heroism, let them ever remember 
 the words of Lady Fairfax, to the murderers 
 of King Charles. It was this lady who 
 exclaimed from the gallery in Westminster 
 Hall, after hearing the form of accusation 
 stated in the name of the Commons, <e not 
 half the people ; it is false ; where are they 
 or their consents ? Oliver Cromwell is a 
 traitor." 
 
 I shall only detain you with observing, 
 in conclusion of this subject, that if the 
 law and practice of chivalry gave an undis- 
 puted authority to women,, they had reason 
 to take care how they forgot the tenderness 
 and peculiar humanity of their character in 
 requiring any unreasonable service of dan- 
 ger from a knight. In the Morte d'Arthur 
 we read that the knight performed the ser- 
 
400 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 vice, and then exposed to the hatred and 
 contempt of the world the woman at whose 
 command he had endangered his life ; and 
 we may remember the saying of an old of- 
 ficer in a famous novel, " si une femme 
 m'avoit oblige a me battre, je le ferois, 
 mais le lendemain je me raccommoderois 
 avec mon adversaire et je me brouillerois 
 avec elle." 
 
 Let us turn to the last subject which I 
 proposed to consider in a general way, — 
 the simplicity of the chivalrous character, 
 as favourable to virtue. And here our view 
 ,will naturally be directed to the peculiar 
 system of education which prevailed in 
 those ages ; which, notwithstanding what 
 we are pleased to term its barbarism, had, 
 .1 conceive, many advantages, in which our 
 own is too often deficient. From the dis- 
 cipline and exercise to which youth was 
 then subject, when the whole character, 
 the body as well as the mind, was called 
 into action, and when even the qualities of 
 the heart formed a means of advancement : 
 from the charge of a stable, the occupa- 
 tions of personal attendance on a knight; 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 401 
 
 from the habits of fellowship with equals, 
 and of submission to superiors, who were 
 themselves gentlemen ; from the service of 
 the hall and the banquet, where the softer 
 sex were to be entertained ; from the office 
 of receiving and of waiting upon strangers ; 
 from these were learned independance of 
 spirit, and skill in the performance of the 
 services belonging to a gentleman 5 strength 
 of nerve and generosity of soul ; a graceful 
 deportment with gentle affections ; habits 
 of courtesy, modesty, and attention to the 
 wants of others ; a pride in sacrificing per- 
 sonal convenience and comfort to gratify 
 others ; that manly firmness, with a gentle 
 spirit, which constitutes the quality op- 
 posed to the savage independance and the 
 selfish pride which so frequently follow 
 from our modern system. These, indeed, 
 were lessons which might not be necessary 
 for the scholar or the man who was doomed 
 by the love of gain, or of advancement, or 
 perhaps by dire necessity, to sacrifice the 
 general features of his character to the de- 
 velopement of some one in particular, but 
 certainly they were admirably calculated 
 
402 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 to form the gentleman and the gallant man. 
 The advantage of subjecting boys to the 
 controul of each other in our public schools 
 has been generally acknowledged ; and 
 surely where this authority was placed in 
 the hands of gentlemen of mature age, 
 without caprice or inconsiderate desire of 
 rule, there could be no question as to the 
 effects which would follow ? In that inte- 
 resting account which Sir John Froissart 
 gives of his riding in company with Sir 
 Espayne de Lyon, he does not disdain to 
 relate how upon arriving at Tarbe they 
 took their lodging at the Star, and that " it 
 was a town of great easement bothe for 
 man and horse, with good hay and otes, 
 and a fayre ryver," nor does he forget, 
 amidst the splendour of the Earl of Foix's 
 castle, where he resided for more than 
 twelve weeks, that his t( horse was well 
 entreated." I love to observe these in- 
 stances of acquaintance not merely with 
 the use and pleasure resulting from the 
 horse, but with the care and attention 
 which he requires in the stable, and this 
 derived from personal experience and prac- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 403 
 
 tice. Eginhart relates of Charlemagne, 
 " tarn filios, quam primum setas patiebatur 
 more Francorum equitare, armes ac vena- 
 tionibus exerceri fecit; filias vero lanificio 
 assuescere, coloque ac fuso, ne potius tor- 
 perent, operam impendere atque ad omnem 
 honestatem erudiri jussit." 
 
 Montagne alludes to a mode of educa- 
 tion which seems to have succeeded the 
 chivalrous system, and which certainly pre- 
 vailed in this kingdom at no very distant 
 period. " Si j'avoy des enfans masles je 
 leur desirasse volontiers ma fortune : le 
 bon pere que Dieu me donna, qui n'a de 
 moy que la reconnoissance de sa bonte, 
 mais certes bien gaillarde, m'envoya des le 
 berceau nourrir a un pauvre village des 
 siens et m'y tint autant que je fus en nour- 
 risse et encores au dela : me dressant a la 
 plus basse et commune fagon de vivre. Ne 
 prenez jamais, et donnez encore moins a 
 vos femmes la charge de leur nourriture ; 
 laissez les former a la fortune, soubs des 
 loix populaires et naturelles : laissez a la 
 coustume de les dresser a la frugalite et a 
 Tausterite, qu'ils agent plus tost a des- 
 
404 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 cendre de l'asprete qu'a monter vers elle." 
 This was partly the mode pursued with 
 Henry IV. of France, who used to go bare- 
 headed on the mountains, and without 
 shoes or stockings, like the other children 
 of the province ; and there are many who 
 can remember being told by their fathers 
 that their childhood had been inured to 
 hardship in the same manner # . 
 
 But whatever may be thought of these 
 plans of education, there can be no doubt, 
 I conceive, with respect to the justice of 
 what Montagne observes in reference to 
 the conduct of early life, that nothing is to 
 be avoided with greater care than habits of 
 delicacy and a dependance upon any formal 
 system for the preservation of health. All 
 that refinement and prudence and regula- 
 rity, which so many practise under pre- 
 tence of a delicate constitution, is perfectly 
 unworthy of a gallant gentleman. Nay it 
 is even destructive of its professed object, 
 since Celsus giveth it, as I am told by Lord 
 
 *■ The same policy obtained the applause of Xeno- 
 phon. — Laeedaem. Reipub. II. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 405 
 
 Bacon, for one of the great precepts of 
 healtB and lasting, that a man do vary 
 and interchange contraries, " Un jeune 
 homme," says Montagne, " doit troubler ses 
 regies pour esveiller sa vigueur, la garder 
 de moisir et se poltroner : et n'est train de 
 vie si sot et si debile que celuy qui se con- 
 duit par ordonnance et discipline. La plus 
 contraire qualite a un honneste homme c'est 
 la delicatesse et obligation a certaine fa§on 
 particuliere, et elle est particuliere si elle 
 n'est ployable et souple." 
 
 Without doubt men may fall victims to 
 this daring spirit in the spring of life, thus : 
 
 Arcite is doom'd to die in all his pride, 
 
 Must leave his youth and yield his beauteous bride. 
 
 Thus Anna, 
 
 Wept the terrors of the perfect wave, 
 
 Too oft, alas ! the wandering lover's grave. 
 
 The startling steed, the remorseless bil- 
 low, these and a thousand accidents inci- 
 dental to human life, may accomplish, in an 
 unlooked-for hour, the stern decree of fate. 
 The ancients beautifully expressed their 
 concern at the death of a man when his 
 
406 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 form is yet in perfect symmetry, and bears 
 the sweetness and the bloom of youth. 
 
 How could poison pass these lips, and 
 yet retain its venom # ? Early life is, on 
 many accounts, more subject to sudden 
 destruction than maturity and age. 
 
 Tlio > , in the visions of romantic youth, 
 What years of endless bliss are yet to flow ! 
 But mortal pleasure, what art thou in truth, 
 The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below ! 
 
 <e Quin etiam astas ilia," says Cicero, 
 " multo plures, quam nostra, mortis casus 
 habet." How beautiful is the description 
 of the death of young Simois in Homer ! 
 Cicero compares youth dying to a flame 
 extinguished by water; death, he says, 
 overpowering them, " adversante et repug- 
 nante natura." Again, he compares it to 
 an unripe apple, which is torn with violence 
 from the tree, " quasi poma ex arboribus, 
 si cruda sunt, vi avelluntur, — sic vitam 
 adolescentibus vis aufert." The lessons 
 which are usually given upon these occa- 
 sions, never fail to remind me of that ob- 
 
 * Uiog rev roig x H ^ a(yi Troredpa/xs, kovk ty\vKctv9rj'. 
 
 Moschus, Id. II. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 407 
 
 servation of Lord Bacon, when he says, 
 " It seemeth to me that most of the doc- 
 trines of the philosophers are more fearful 
 and cautionary than the nature of things 
 requireth ; so have they increased the fear 
 of death in offering to cure it ; for when 
 they would have a man's whole life to be 
 but a discipline or preparation to die, they 
 must needs make men think that it is a 
 terrible enemy, against whom there is no 
 end of preparing." If men die in youth by 
 a violent death, how much suffering and 
 misery are they thereby spared ! All those 
 associations, arising from the customs ob- 
 served during a protracted sickness, which 
 are more grievous far than the actual stroke, 
 are then unexperienced. 
 
 What youthful bosom does not sympa- 
 thise with those feelings so piteously ex- 
 pressed by the chevalier Bayard, when he 
 lay on the bed of sickness, dying, as he 
 thought, by a gradual and inglorious de- 
 cay, like a woman. O how different now 
 was the face of death to the animal part of 
 his nature, in the stillness and solitude of 
 a sick room, forsaken at once by those 
 
 # 
 
408 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 limbs of strength in which he had trusted, 
 and by that elasticity of spirit which had 
 so often led him on to victory ! 
 
 Q 7roTroi, ri fiaXa drj fiaXaKiorepog ctfi^atpaaffOai 
 "Efcrwp, rj ore vrjag kv€7rprj(rev nvpi KrjXsy. 
 
 What must have been the power of these 
 words, which Talbot addresses to his dying 
 son upon the field of battle ? 
 
 u Brave death by speaking, whether he will or no; 
 Imagine him a Frenchman, and thy foe. 
 Poor boy ! he smiles, methinks ; as who should say, 
 Had death been French, then death had died to day." 
 
 Marini describes the death of a youth, 
 saying — 
 
 — — " E morte in si bel viso e bella." 
 
 Is there not something agreeable to a deli- 
 cate mind, in the idea that death may be 
 stript even of its deformity ? How beautiful 
 is that description in Virgil, where the dead 
 body of Evander's youthful son is exposed 
 to view ! 
 
 " Hie juvenem agresti sublimem stramihe pouunt; 
 Qualem virgineo demessum pollice florem 
 Seu mollis violae, seulanguentis hyacinthi ; 
 Cui neque fulgor adhuc nec dum sua ferma recessit 
 Non jam mater alit tellus, viresque ministrat. ,) 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 409 
 
 The young are cut off by a violent and 
 cruel death ? But how sweet to think of 
 those who sincerely lament them ! for 
 
 " 111 bears the sex a youthful lover's fate." 
 
 How sweet to think of that soft hour when 
 our names and hard fortune may be told to 
 weeping maidens — 
 
 " While lisping children, touch'd with infant fear, 
 With wonder gaze, and drop th' unconscious tear." 
 
 Surely this life, which awaits the young and 
 generous in the heart and recollection of 
 those whom they love, is an enviable pro- 
 traction of existence ? 
 
 Again, if we reflect upon the uncertainty 
 of all human happiness, how often in braving 
 danger might it not be wisdom to exclaim 
 with Evander — 
 
 " Nunc, O nunc licet crudelim abrumpere vitam 
 Dum curae ambiguae, dum spes incerta future" 
 
 If Pompey had fallen by the chance of 
 war in the plains of Pharsalia, in the de- 
 fence of his country's liberty, how glorious 
 would have been his death ! But what a 
 
 T 
 
410 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 result awaited him ! " He who a few days 
 before commanded kings and consuls, and 
 all the noblest of Rome, was sentenced to 
 die by a council of slaves, murdered by a 
 base deserter, cast out naked and headless 
 on the Egyptian strand, and when the whole 
 earth," as Velleius says, " had scarcely 
 been sufficient for his victories, could not 
 find a spot upon it for a grave !" 
 
 But sudden death is terrible ; and is not 
 that also sudden, and even unforeseen, 
 which occurs in the thousand ordinary 
 cases when the sufferer, after a protracted 
 illness, is unconscious of danger to the 
 last, and resolved to disbelieve the warn- 
 ings of friends and the misgivings of his 
 own heart ? " et tout est mort que Tespe- 
 rance vit encore." BufFon appeals for the 
 truth of this statement to the testimony of 
 physicians and clergymen, who are in 
 habits of witnessing the last hours of men. 
 But even if the sick were conscious of ap- 
 proaching death, and had lived a life of 
 wickedness, what would then avail their 
 tears, and groans, and hypocrisy ? There 
 is an honesty belonging to the character of 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 411 
 
 a gallant man, that would disdain to affect 
 a feeling of which he knew the origin to be 
 servile and base. Xenophon complained to 
 his army, that the soldiers who were when 
 in safety the most intemperate and petu- 
 lant, had been the most helpless and de- 
 spairing during the danger of the retreat, 
 and he pointed out an instance of a man 
 who had committed some shameful act of 
 violence, who had before appeared too 
 feeble to carry his shield. The transition 
 is generally sudden from open presumption 
 and impiety to servile fears and base super- 
 stition. Jocasta, when terrified at the con- 
 dition of (Edipus, enters the stage with 
 boughs of supplication in her hand, and 
 goes with cringing humility to the temples 
 of those very gods, whose oracles she had 
 just before treated with contempt. Thus 
 Livy says of Tullus, " tunc adeo fracti si- 
 mul cum corpore sunt spiritus illi feroces, 
 ut, qui nihil ante ratus esset minus regium 
 quam sacris dedere animum, repente omni- 
 bus magnis parvisque superstitionibus ob- 
 noxius degeret, religionibusque etiam po- 
 t2 
 
412 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 pulum impleret." Thus, the messenger in 
 the Persse relates, that when the army came 
 to the river Strymon, on the ice of which 
 they had to pass, although it had begun to 
 thaw, 
 
 Oeovg 8e rig 
 To ttoiv vofxiZbJv ovdafiov, tot kvxtTO 
 AiraiGi, yaiav ovpavov te 7Coogkvvu)v. 
 
 And so I have been assured by one who 
 knew the fact from observation, that Vol- 
 ney, in America, being in danger of ship- 
 wreck, was on his knees and loudly praying, 
 even to the disturbance and interruption of 
 the brave men who were engaged in manag- 
 ing the vessel. What man of spirit would 
 in his fall and ruin supplicate the individual 
 whom he had trampled upon in his prospe- 
 rity ? or who but a base sycophant would 
 despise and forsake a king during the pe- 
 riod of a rebellion, and then cringe and 
 fawn upon him when he came in his power 
 and great glory ? Man, indeed, as Sir Philip 
 Sidney so well said in his admirable prayer 
 before a battle, man in his best estate of 
 mind " may for a time forget his God, and 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 413 
 
 yet hope that his God may not forget him 
 but surely it is not the part of a man of 
 honour, to provoke and forsake God in the 
 world, and to call upon him with tears in 
 death ? But again, what an alternative if 
 he is to brave the Almighty, the moment 
 before he is called into his presence ! What 
 a prospect ! " Qu ? y-at-il plus monstrueux," 
 says Charron, ** que d'estre brave a l'en- 
 droiet de Dieu !" The truth is, however, 
 that this is to suppose an impossible case, 
 for no man of real high honour, has ever 
 been an obstinate rebel to his God, and 
 therefore the same writer who used this 
 expression, has well added, " et coiiard a 
 Tendroiet des hommes." The man of vir- 
 tuous and gallant spirit is obedient to the 
 voice of his dear Lord, who calls upon him 
 to be " always ready." Merlin laughed at 
 the young man for purchasing a pair of 
 shoes when he was not to reach his own 
 gate alive, and yet it did not follow that the 
 youth, however ignorant of the precise hour 
 of his summons, was therefore unprepared 
 for it, and a fit object of the magician's ri- 
 t 3 
 
414 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 dicule. It is for the rich man trusting in 
 his riches, to cry out — 
 
 " Miser ! O Miser ! — omnia ademit, 
 Una dies infesta mihi tot praemia vitae." 
 
 It is for the worldly-minded politician to 
 sigh his soul away, like Mazarine, saying 
 with his last breath, " il faut quitter tout 
 cela !" Nay, let us not be surprised to hear 
 the philosopher, as he is termed, gravely 
 argue — 
 
 Airavra fiaWov, rj Bavuv 
 'Etch/aos wv vTrovpyeiv, 
 
 But let us remember, what Montagne so 
 well expresses, that the gentleman and gal- 
 lant youth, like the page and esquire of 
 chivalry, must be always booted and ready 
 to obey orders, u ready, ay ready," is his 
 cry. Who w:th such a light and merry 
 heart, and who so ready to endure suffer- 
 ing, and to brave the face of danger ? not 
 arising from an impious contempt of life, 
 but from an assurance that ev rco ©so/, to 
 T£Xo? han, from a conviction that the event 
 is in the hands of God, and from an entire 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 415 
 
 resignation to his will. No acquisition of 
 riches, or authority, or connection unduly 
 attaching us to life, can ever compensate 
 for the loss of that spirit which is the joy 
 and the glory of our nature. 
 
 But to return from this digression. It is to 
 descend to a much lower subject, if I should 
 call your attention to the opinion and prac- 
 tice of our ancestors with respect to dress ; 
 and yet these must not by any means be 
 overlooked. How admirable was the mode- 
 ration and judgment of Saint Louis? "qu'on 
 se doit vetir bien honnetement, afin d'etre 
 mieux aime de sa femme, et aussi que vos 
 gens vous en priseront plus. C'est aussi le 
 dire du Saige, qu'il faut se porter selon son 
 etat, de telle maniere que les prudes du 
 monde ne puissent dire, vous en faites trop ; 
 n'aussi les jeunes gens vous en faites peu." 
 
 Upon Sunday and on the festivals, it was 
 the custom for the knights when unarmed, 
 and all the youth of the castle to be adorned 
 in their richest attire. The little page, Jehan 
 de Saintre, is very particular in command- 
 ing that his embroidered suit may be finished 
 on the Saturday night. It is impossible not 
 t 4 
 
416 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 to be pleased with the simplicity of these 
 ancient manners. Nor is it immaterial to 
 observe, the difference between the taste 
 and opinions of our ancestors and of our 
 own age, in relation to the internal arrange- 
 ment of a house. It is the general idea at 
 present, that every thing in the furniture 
 and decoration, and in the whole domestic 
 establishment should be complete, and, as 
 it is said, consistent. Hence it is, that fo- 
 reigners are astonished in finding persons 
 of the highest rank, condemning themselves 
 to inhabit cottages of much smaller dimen- 
 sions than those which belong to the pea- 
 santry of other countries. This is the result 
 of pride and bad taste, in the fullest sense 
 of the terms, as in truth, vice and an insen- 
 sibility to the associations of genius ge- 
 nerally go together ; it follows, from our 
 having forsaken that ancient simplicity, to 
 which the members of our order should 
 return. Buildings, with apartments of a 
 certain magnitude, are necessary for the 
 sake of health, which requires liberty of 
 exercise for the body — the lofty tower, the 
 pointed arch, the commanding terrace, are 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 417 
 
 objects which please the imaginations of 
 those who have learned to associate them 
 with the virtues of chivalry, and which in- 
 volve their occupier in no system of ruin, 
 as long as he retains the simplicity and 
 virtue of his order; but the decoration of 
 these apartments, the splendid furniture, 
 the gallery, the paintings and statues, the 
 pompous liveries, the consistent equipage, 
 the endless banquets and assemblies ; these, 
 however suitable to the fortune of princes, 
 and of some nobles, are perfectly unneces- 
 sary, and even injurious to gentlemen of 
 ordinary means. " The taste which is di- 
 rected to one of these objects," says Sully, 
 n will soon degenerate into a kind of mad- 
 ness, whence, the loss of time is the least 
 consequent evil. Prodigality, ruin, and 
 dishonour, are the ordinary result." 
 
 From what we have had occasion to ob- 
 serve in another place, you will be sensible 
 of the peculiar character of the charity and 4 
 hospitality of our ancestors. But, besides 
 the excellence of these virtues in them- 
 selves, I wish again to call your attention 
 to the simplicity which distinguishes them ; 
 t 5 
 
418 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and which, I conceive, even constituted' a 
 separate virtue. James Amiot, the son of 
 a shoemaker at Melun, having ran away 
 when a boy, from his father's house, mis- 
 took his road, and fell sick upon the high- 
 way. A gentleman passing by had compas- 
 sion on him, and setting him on the saddle 
 before him, he conveyed him to Orleans, 
 where he placed him in the hospital. Upon 
 his recovery, which soon followed, he was 
 dismissed with a present of twelve sous. 
 At a subsequent period, when grand almo- 
 ner of France, and Bishop of Auxerre, he 
 settled twelve hundred crowns upon this 
 hospital, in memory of his own fortune. 
 Now here might have been only an act of 
 general charity, but did not the simple form 
 in which it was dispensed, render it also 
 one of particular obedience, " go and do 
 thou likewise V' 
 
 I am aware of no public institution in 
 this country which retains in form and sim- 
 plicity the charity of ancient times, ex- 
 cepting the Hospital of the Holy Cross, 
 near Winchester, where I have been re- 
 galed, as a common traveller, with bread 
 8 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 419 
 
 and beer, delivered without any demand, 
 to every stranger who appears at the gate. 
 But in the distant parts of this kingdom 
 from the metropolis, and in the provinces 
 of Ireland, the form of charity still con- 
 tinues as of old, by the custom of parti- 
 cular families. It is a fact, however it 
 may disgust the economical science of 
 some at the present day, that at my father's 
 gate there were never less than eight or 
 nine poor people fed daily, and at stated 
 hours. Nor can I furnish any tale of abuse 
 and disorder ensuing that could be of ser- 
 vice to their theory. 
 
 Let us observe another very striking in- 
 stance of this simplicity, in adherence to 
 the precepts of the Gospel. The Sire de 
 Joinville, before setting out for the Holy 
 Land, assembled his neighbours and vas- 
 sals to make restitution for any wrong 
 which they might have suffered through his 
 means. " Je fus toute la semaine," he 
 states, "a faire fetes et banquets avec mon 
 frere de Vauguelour et tous les riches hom- 
 ines du pay, qui la estoient et dissoient apres 
 que avions bu et mange, chausons les une 
 t 6 
 
420 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 apres les autres, et demenoit grant joie 
 chacim de sa part. Mais quand le vint le 
 vendredi, je leur dis : Seigneurs, scachez 
 que je m'en vais outre mer. Je ne sgais si 
 je reviendrai jamais, ou non. Pourtant 
 s'il y a nul a qui j'aye jamez fait aucun 
 tout, et qui veuille se plaindre de moi, se 
 tire avant. Car je le veux amender ainsi 
 que j'ai contume de fair a ceux qui se plaig- 
 nent de moi ne de mes gens. Ainsi le fis 
 par commun diet des gens du pays et de 
 ma terre." And Louis IX. pursued a si- 
 milar conduct. Not only did he send re- 
 gular commissioners to examine into the 
 grievances of his subjects, but also he 
 dispatched clergymen and holy men to 
 make a more careful enquiry. The result 
 furnished but few subjects of complaint, 
 and these were instantly removed. It is 
 painful to observe that Henry, King of 
 England, was willing to take advantage of 
 the piety and simplicity of Louis ; but the 
 firmness of the Queen Mother, and the 
 judgment of the French nobles, determined 
 the king to reject demands which were as 
 unreasonable as they were ungenerous. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 421 
 
 During the middle ages some degree of 
 chirurgical and medical knowledge was con- 
 sidered as a necessary female accomplish- 
 ment. This is another instance of primi- 
 tive simplicity, of which examples are not 
 wanting at the present day. How many 
 gentlemen have I known, (not to mention 
 my own history,) who are indebted for their 
 lives to the consolation and unwearied 
 kindness of women ; of ladies, who, as in 
 the case of Bayard, at Brescia, watched 
 and tended them in their peril, amused 
 and strengthened them in their recovery ? 
 Nor do I allude to their mothers, albeit in 
 one at least of the cases which I could re- 
 late, it was the tenderest, the most devoted, 
 and the most pitiful of the Almighty's crea- 
 tures. One to whom I owe more than man 
 should owe his fellow mortal. 
 
 Parva quidem fateor pro magnis munera reddi, 
 Cam pro concessa verba salute daraus. 
 Sed qui, quam potuit, dat maxima, gratus abunde est ; 
 Et finem pietas contigit ilia suum. 
 
 My poor remembrance is not more frail 
 and vain than the flowers of the poet, yet 
 
422 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 what spirit could despise the hand that 
 strewed them : 
 
 His saltern adcumulem donis et fungar inani 
 Munere. , — — 
 
 Another instance of ancient simplicity is, 
 the kind of friendly connection which sub- 
 sisted between the master of a house and 
 his domestics. Of this, one example may 
 be sufficient, where even the memory of my 
 readers will present them with many. Dur- 
 ing the pestilence which visited the army 
 of Saint Louis, William de Chartres re- 
 lates, that being in the tent with an old 
 valet de chambre of the King, named Gan- 
 gelm, who was dying, this faithful servant 
 said to him, " j 'attends mon saint maitre : 
 non, je ne mourrai point que je n'aye en le 
 bonheur de le voir." The king arrived at 
 the moment, and remained with him for a 
 considerable time, testifying the tenderest 
 affection. 
 
 The enterprises and valorous feats which 
 distinguished the present age have been 
 compared with those of our chivalrous an- 
 cestors. But I conceive that the objects 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 423 
 
 and motives of our contemporaries are 
 alone sufficient to prove clearly that there 
 is not any justice in the comparison. For 
 what was the prize which excited the latter? 
 Let us hear Froissart. " After dyner 
 knyghtes and squyers were armed to just, 
 and so they justed in the markette place, 
 xi knyghtes of the one syde; the yonge 
 Kyng Charles justed with a knyght of 
 Heynalt, called Sir Nycholas Espinoit ; so 
 these justes were nobly contynued, and a 
 yonge knyght of Heynalt had the prise — 
 this knyght justed greatly to the pleasure 
 of the lordes and ladyes : he had for his 
 prise, a gyrdell gyven by the Duchesse of 
 Bourgoyne, from her own wast/' 
 
 I conceive wherever this primitive simpli- 
 city be found, there at least we may always 
 reckon with the fullest assurance upon the 
 discharge of all the great leading duties of 
 humanity and religion, which men of more 
 sagacity and learning will often forget to 
 practise, while they define and limit them 
 with exceptions, and even obscure and 
 counteract them with their limitations and 
 refinement. Nor is this an unimportant 
 
424 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 feature of its character, for after all, how- 
 ever the man of high virtue and religion in 
 his cabinet may be disposed to admire the 
 profound and eloquent expositions of the 
 philosopher and the casuist, considering 
 the general wants and the ordinary dispo- 
 sitions of mankind, it is of far greater con- 
 sequence that men should learn to obey, 
 with singleness of mind, these first great 
 leading lessons upon the plain common 
 principles of Christianity and the human 
 heart, than that they should be able to un- 
 derstand and to adopt these schemes of 
 metaphysical subtilty, and, wise with their 
 own wisdom, and virtuous on their own prin- 
 ciples, by attempting to limit and to refine, 
 should lose sight, by degrees, of the sub- 
 stance and the reality of virtue. Who could 
 have convinced Sir John Froissart, when 
 writing on the death of Richard II., that 
 he should refrain from assigning the motive 
 of his personal obligation, for the grief 
 which he testifies at the death of that 
 prince ? or that in estimating the conduct 
 of public men we should never suffer our 
 private feelings to affect our affection for 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 425 
 
 them. He never knew " the generous mur- 
 derer of a friend # ." Such refinement was 
 unknown to these plain men of honour, 
 and should ever be the scorn of a gentle- 
 man. It is a fine passage in Euripides 
 where he proclaims the perspicuity and 
 simplicity of virtue. 
 
 'AnXovg 6 [jLvBog rrjg akr]9uag e<pv 
 Kov 7rouci\<*)v Set r avdi% epfxrivevfiaTwy 
 'E%ft yap dvra Kaipov* 6 d adiKog \oyog 
 Nocwj/ ev dvru), (papfJLctKwv deirat ffotywv. 
 
 " I was in his court," says Sir John, al- 
 luding to Richard II. " more than a quarter 
 of a yere togider, and he made me good 
 chere, bycause that in my youth I was 
 clerke and servaunt to the noble Kynge 
 Edwarde the Thirde, his graunt father, and 
 with my Lady Philyp of Heynault, Quene 
 of Englande, his grandame, and when I 
 departed fro hym it was at Wynsore, and 
 at my departynge the kyng sent me by a 
 knight of his, called Sir John Golofer, a 
 
 * Montagne's expression in alluding to Brutus, 
 which is not more atrocious than the reasoning of 
 Cicero on the same subject, in the third book of his 
 Offices, founded on the maxim of the Roman people, 
 
426 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 goblet of sylver and gylt, weyeng two 
 marke of sylver, and within it a C nobles, 
 by the which I am as yet the better, and 
 shal be as long as I lyve ; wherefore I am 
 bounde to praye to God for his soule, and 
 with moche sorowe I write of his dethe." 
 In like manner we have seen, elsewhere, 
 that the young Lord Grandison did not 
 hesitate to declare publicly, that " his ob- 
 ligation of gratitude to Charles I. on the 
 behalf of his house, had determined him to 
 offer the sacrifice of his life." 
 
 Turn we now to the account which Sir 
 John Froissart has given, " howe Quene 
 Philyp of Englande trepassed out of this 
 mortall lyfe, and of the thre gyftes that she 
 desyred of the Kynge, her husbande, or 
 she dyed." The whole is an instance of 
 this primitive simplicity to which I direct 
 your attention. 
 
 " In the meane seasone there fell in Eng- 
 lande a heavey case and a comon : howbeit 
 it was right pyteouse for the Kyng, his 
 chyldren, and all his realme ; for the good 
 Quene of Englande, that so many good 
 dedes had done in her tyme, and so many 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 427 
 
 knightes so coured, and ladyes and damo- 
 sels comforted, and had so largely departed 
 of her goodes to her people, and naturally 
 loved alwayes the nacyon of Heynaulte, 
 the countrey wher as she was borne, she 
 fell sicke in the Castell of Wyndsore, the 
 whiche sickeness contynewed on her so 
 longe, that there was no remedye but dethe ; 
 and the good lady whanne she knewe and 
 parcyved that there was with her no re- 
 medye but dethe, she desyred to speke 
 with the Kynge her husbande, and when 
 he was before her, she put out of her bedde 
 her right hande, and take the Kynge by his 
 right hande, who was right sorrowful at 
 his hert : than she said, Sir, we have in 
 peace joye, and great prosperyte, used all 
 oure tyme toguyder, Sir, nowe I pray you 
 at our departyng that ye wyll graunt me thre 
 desyres : the Kynge right sorrowfully we- 
 pyng, sayd, Madame, desyre what ye wyll, 
 I graunt it : Sir, sayd she, L requyre you 
 firste of all, that all maner of people, suche 
 as I have dault with all in their merchaun- 
 dyse, on this syde the see or beyond, that 
 it may please you to pay every thynge that 
 
428 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 I owe to them or to any other # : and se- 
 condly, Sir, all suche ordynaunce and pro- 
 myses as I have made to the churches, as 
 well of this countrey as beyonde the see, 
 wher as I have hadde my devocyon, that it 
 may please you to accomplysse and to full- 
 fyll the same : thirdely, Sir, I requyre you 
 that it may please you to take none other 
 sepulture whensoever it shall please God 
 to call you out of this transytorie lyfe, but 
 besyde me in Westmynster : the Kynge al 
 wepyng sayde, Madame, I grant all your 
 desyres : than the good lady and quene 
 made on her the signe of the crosse, and 
 commaunded the Kyng her husbande to 
 God, and her yongest son Thomas, who 
 was there besyde her 5 and anone after she 
 yelded up the spiryte ; the which I beleve 
 surely the holy angels receyved with great 
 joy up to heven, for in all her lyfe she dyd 
 neyther in thought nor dede thyng, wherby 
 to lose her soule, as ferr as any creature 
 coulde knowe. Thus the good Quene of 
 Englande dyed in the yere of our Lord 
 
 * A most important lesson for all gentlemen to re- 
 member. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 429 
 
 m.ccc.lxix., in the vigyll of our lady, in 
 the myddes of August." 
 
 The writings of a celebrated Queen are 
 introduced with the following description 
 of a lady of rank, as given by herself. The 
 Dame Oysille had been requested by her 
 company to devise some method of amus- 
 ing their vacant hour, and of inspiring 
 them with the same liveliness and gaiety of 
 heart, for which she was so remarkable. 
 " Si vous me demandez," replied the lady, 
 " ce que je fais pour etre si gaie et si saine 
 dans une age avance, je vous dirai qu'aus- 
 sitot que je suis levee, je lis la sainte ecri- 
 ture. Je vois et je contemple la volonte 
 de Dieu, qui a envoye son fils en terre 
 pour nous prescher cette sainte parole et 
 nous annoncer cette bonne nouvelle qui 
 nous promet de nous pardonner nos peches 
 et de payer nos dettes, en nous donnant 
 son fils qui nous a aimee, qui a souffert, 
 et est enfin mort pour nous. — Le soir je 
 fais la revue de tout ce que j'ai fait durant 
 la journee ; je demande pardon de mes 
 fautes, je remercie Dieu de ses graces et me 
 couche en son amour, en sa crainte et en 
 
430 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sa paix — voila, mes enfans, quel a ete de- 
 puis long terns mon divertissement. Apres 
 avoir bien cherche je n'en ai point trouve 
 de plus solide et de plus satisfaisant.— 
 Ainsi je vous prie de me croire, si vous 
 voulez trouver des agremens dans la vie." 
 
 It only remains that you should remark 
 the simplicity of ancient manner in the mi- 
 nor details, where it affects the taste and 
 feelings more than the essential virtues of 
 mankind. What a picture does Sir John 
 Froissart give of the fire-side after supper, 
 in the great castle of the Earl of Foix ? He 
 had brought with him a book, called " the 
 Melyader, conteyninge all the songes, ba- 
 laddes, rundeaux, and vyrelayes, which by 
 imagynacyon he had gathered toguyder," 
 which book he says, " the Earl of Foix was 
 gladde to se ; and every night after supper, 
 I reed thereon to hym, and whyle I reed 
 ther was none durst speke any worde, by- 
 cause he wolde I shuldebewell understande, 
 wherein he tooke great solace." This will 
 naturally lead us to mention the legends 
 and romances of this age. And here, while 
 I refer my reader for an ample fund of 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 431 
 
 amusement and interest to the thousand 
 tales of chivalry, suiting the midnight hour, 
 and the holy feast of Christmas, when the 
 knights sat assembled in " the sounding 
 vaulted hall, about the round, massy stone 
 table, when the awakening storm would 
 drive a wild snow-dust against the clatter- 
 ing windows, making all the doors to trem- 
 ble in their oaken casements, and the heavy 
 bolts to rattle violently/' let us exclaim 
 with Chaucer — 
 
 u God forbede but that men should believ 
 Well more thing than thei hau seen with eye !" 
 
 Let him be assured that in the choir of the 
 church belonging to the convent of St. 
 Claire, at Valladolid, they shew the tomb 
 of a Castilian knight, whence groans and 
 accents issue every time that any members 
 of his house are to die ; that there is a bell 
 in Arragon, in a small town called Vililla, 
 on the Ebro, which tolls of itself previous 
 to great events ; that it was heard when 
 Alphonso V. king of Arragon, went into 
 Italy to take possession of the kingdom of 
 
432 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Naples : again, at the death of Charles V. 
 that it denoted the departure of Don Sebas- 
 tian, king of Portugal, for Africa ; that in 
 the convent of Cordova, there was a clock 
 which struck a particular note every time 
 that a religious man was to die ; and that 
 around the ancient mansion in which the 
 author of these sheets spent his childhood, 
 there was a vision which never failed to 
 predict to the domestics of the house, the 
 approaching death of one of its members. 
 Let him hear Froissart's account of the ap- 
 pearance before the battle of Rosebeque, 
 and the testimony of Sully as to what he 
 beheld at Passy. Let him go back to the 
 days of Homer, and reflect upon the part- 
 ing words of Hector to Andromache — 
 
 Ev fitv yap Tode oida Kara <J>peva Kai Kara Svjiov, 
 "Eggstch rj[iap, or dv ttot 6\w\#"lXio£ iprj, 
 Kai npiafiog Kai Xaog evfifieKio) Hpiafioio. 
 
 Let him compare the feelings of Henry IV. 
 of France, before his assassination, with 
 those of Hector, when he says to his wife — 
 
 Me rtOveiwra xvtki Kara yaia koKvittoi* 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 433 
 
 And with those of Achilles — 
 
 Ev vv toi oida /cat avrog, o jjloi fiopog kvQad' dXevQat 
 Nocr^i fika narpog Kai firjrepog. 
 
 Let him hear the statement of Aristotle, 
 respecting the death of Eudemus, as pre- 
 dicted by a vision, which furnishes occasion 
 to Cicero for one of his most beautiful pas- 
 sages. Let him observe the same popular 
 opinions prevalent at the present day, as 
 in the age of Sophocles, who introduces a 
 voice to hasten OEdipus to death — 
 
 'Q ^ vroc, ovrog, Oidnrovg, ti peWo/ASP %(*)puv * ; 
 
 * Epictetus speaks of death as a summons from the 
 pilot that the ship is arrived, and we must go on board. 
 Thus Alcestes cries— 
 
 'Opt*) duc(jj7rov, opw, OKcupog. 
 
 Eurip. Alcest. 260. 
 Thus, Queen Catherine in Shakspeare. But where 
 have we met with a more beautiful or affecting passage 
 than the following account of the music, which an- 
 nounced the death of Isabella, sister of Louis IX. and 
 Abbess of Louchamp, written by a sister of the con- 
 vent ? " Sceur Clemen ce d'Argas diet en verite que 
 la nuict que nostre saincte et reverente dame et mere 
 trespassa, un peu devant matins, elle ouvrit la fenestre 
 qui estoit pres son lict, en intention pour scavoir si 
 elle ouroit aucun en la court, car elle scavoitbien que 
 Madame estoit pres de sa fin et arregardoit Pair qui 
 U 
 
434 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 Let him be reminded of Calphurnia's dream 
 before the death of Cesar, of the vision 
 which appeared to Brutus (for to hint at an 
 evil conscience when there is no sense of 
 guilt, is an abuse of words) ; of Xenophon's 
 testimony (qui vir et quantus) mentiri Xe- 
 nophontem an delirare dicemus ? that of 
 Aristotle, of Sophocles, of Socrates him- 
 
 estoit tres-bel, et tres-serain, elle ouit une voix moult 
 douce, et moult melodieuse surlamaison ou ellegisoit, 
 et Pouit si longuement que li semble en verite que elle 
 n'ouit onques si longue haleine en ceste mortelle vie. 
 Scelle Sceur Clemence mit sa chef hors des fers de la 
 fenestre pour mieux seavoir qui c'estoit, et apres ce 
 Pon sonna Matines et nous apporta Pon la nouvelle que 
 Madame nostre saincte mere estoit trespasse. Aussi 
 sceur Aveline de Hennaut en celle heure ouit chants 
 moult doux et moult melodieux, et se leva en son seant 
 en sonlict, mais elle ne scait que ce fiit. Nous crojons 
 fermement que c'estoit la melodie des saincts Anges 
 qui conduisoient sa benoiete ame en lagloire du ciel." 
 Touching presentiment before death, let the reader 
 compare the celebrated prediction of the grand master 
 of the Templars, in the reign of Philip le Bel, with that 
 of the Rhodian, related by Cicero from Posidonius. (de 
 divin. I. 30.) These sentiments have always been con- 
 troverted by the Epicureans. " Unus dissentit Epi- 
 curus," and in our time the followers of his philosophy, 
 I mean among men of study and reflection. This con- 
 sistency is worthy of remark. 
 
 S 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 435 
 
 self, who declares in his conversation with 
 Crito, E^ojtEi ris fAQi yvvn TtpoGskOovaa. xochw 
 
 KOCl SUElScOS, XSVKOC IfJLfXTlOC £%0VG(Z 9 KOLksOOll fAS Y.OU. 
 hTTEW, Q> ILaJKpOLTZS 'HfJLOLTl 7LSV rpiTQCTOu <P9i7}V 
 
 EptficoXov lytoio. Let him hear the testimony 
 of the gravest writers of the stoics. What ? 
 Those two dreams which they commemo- 
 rate, " quis tandem potest contemnere ?" 
 The first is of Simonides, who finding the 
 dead body of a stranger, had it placed in a * 
 grave, and was intending to embark on a 
 voyage, when the man whom he had buried 
 appeared to him, and warned him not to 
 sail lest he should perish in shipwreck. 
 Simonides, therefore, returned, and those 
 who put to sea perished. The other is still 
 more celebrated. Two Arcadian friends 
 going the same journey, came to Megara, 
 when the one slept at a public-house, the 
 other went as a guest to a friend. During 
 the night, he who had gone to the public- 
 house appeared in a dream to his compa- 
 nion, and entreated that he would come to 
 his assistance, as the man of the house was 
 goingto murder him. Terrified atthis dream, 
 he at first rose up, but on reflection, when 
 u 2 
 
436 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 his mind recovered itself, the whole seemed 
 to be a delusion, and he again lay down. 
 Upon falling asleep the same vision appeared 
 to him, beseeching that since he had not 
 come in time to find him alive, he would not 
 suffer his murderer to remain unpunished : 
 his dead body was at that moment, he said, 
 thrown into a cart by the landlord, and co- 
 vered with dung, and he besought him to 
 come quickly to the door of the public- 
 house, before the cart should leave the 
 town. Greatly moved by this dream, the 
 friend rose at the dawn of day, and came 
 to the inn door, where he saw a herdsman 
 standing with a cart. Upon demanding 
 what it contained, the herdsman fled. The 
 dead body was then discovered at the bot- 
 tom, and the affair being disclosed, the 
 landlord suffered due penalty. Instances 
 nearly as remarkable have fallen under the 
 personal observation of men now living. 
 It has, I believe, been generally allowed 
 by men of judgment, that the arguments 
 adduced by Quintus in the first book of 
 Cicero's " De Divinatione," remain unre- 
 futed in the second. At all events, the 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 437 
 
 impression from the whole is certainly cal- 
 culated to counteract that presumption 
 which the moderns so frequently cherish 
 upon subjects of this kind, and which is 
 after all, as unphilosophical as it is con- 
 trary to the pleasures of imagination. 
 
 4< There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 
 Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." 
 
 And so I pass over and turn again to my 
 matter. — "The great Earl of Foix," says 
 Froissart, " kept the hyghe feestes of the 
 yere ever ryght solempne, when he made 
 good chere to every man # ." Sir John relates 
 an anecdote, which I will insert without apo- 
 logy, for it illustrates in a striking manner, 
 the simple character of their hospitable 
 scenes. " It was on a Christmas day the erle 
 of Foix helde a great feest, and a plentifull 
 of knightes and squyers, as it is his usage ; 
 and it was a colde day, and the erle dyned 
 in the hall, and with hym great company of 
 lordes ; and after dyner he departed out of 
 the hall, and wente up into a galarye of 
 xxiiii stayres of heyght, in which galarye 
 
 * Compare Eurip. Alcest. 870. and Heb. xiii. % 
 U3 
 
438 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ther was a great chymney, wherin they 
 made fyre whan therle was ther ; and at that 
 tyme there was but a small fyre, for the erle 
 loved no great fyre ; the same day it was a 
 great frost and very colde, and whan the 
 erle was in the galarye and sawe the fyre 
 so lytell, he said to the knightesand squiers 
 about hym, Sirs, this is but a small fyre, 
 and the day so colde : than Ernalton of 
 Spayne went down the stayres, and beneth 
 in the courte he sawe agreatmeny of asses 
 laden with wood to serve the house : than 
 he went and toke one of the grettest asses, 
 with all the woode, and layed hym on his 
 backe, and went up all the stayres into the 
 galarye, and dyde cast down the asse with 
 all the wood into the chymney, and the 
 asse's feet upward. Wherof the erle of 
 Foix had great joy, and so hadde all they 
 that were there, and had merveyle of his 
 strength." For it was in the proof of strength 
 that the knights took pleasure, as Homer, 
 upon similar occasions, when he exclaims : 
 
 Msya epyov, o 8 dvo V avdps (pepoisv, 
 
 Oioi vvv Bporoi eia* 6 de [xtv pea 7ra\\e Kai oiog* 
 
 In all these details of life and manners 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 439 
 
 there is an Homeric simplicity, which con- 
 tinually reminds us of the scenes of our 
 first, and perhaps our highest rapture, those 
 of the Iliad and the Odyssey. Nay, their 
 very festive hours, unchilled by the influ- 
 ence of that effeminate delicacy which 
 grows out of the excessive refinement of 
 modern manners. (Witness what is recorded 
 by Archbishop Turpin, of Charlemagne, that 
 % he ate sparingly of bread ; but that it was 
 not thought strange if he eat a whole pea- 
 cock, crane, or hare,") will recall the well 
 known lines of the bard, 
 
 AaivvvT, sds rt &v[aoq kdsvsro dalroQ kiGrjg, 
 
 And the words of Diomedes to the Greek 
 warriors, calling upon them to refresh their 
 hearts, 
 
 Sirs Kai olvoio* to yap, fievog kan Kai aXicy 
 
 In conclusion of the subject, it is essen- 
 tial to observe, that the unvarnished style 
 and spirit which distinguish the literary 
 compositions of our ancestors, were not 
 contrary to virtue and religion, as our mor- 
 bid critics of the present day too hastily 
 u 4 
 
440 THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 
 
 suppose. Open one of the old chivalrous 
 romances, and a reader who is accustomed 
 to the vitiated page of a modern novel, to 
 all its low and degrading detail of vulgar 
 sentiment and vulgar vice, will affect ex- 
 treme disgust at what he will term the 
 grossness and indecency of its contents* ; 
 but the truth is, however it may surprise 
 him, that these compositions were neither 
 gross nor indecent in the view of those 
 who framed or read them. " Tout est sain 
 aux sains/' says M de de Sevigne, " il y a 
 des exemples des effets bons et mauvais de 
 ces sortes de lectures. Pour moi, qui vou- 
 lois m'appuyer dans mon gout, je trouvois 
 qu'un jeune homme devenoit genereux et 
 brave en voyant mes heros, et qu'une fille 
 devenoit honnete et sage. — Quelquefois il 
 y en a qui prennent un peu les choses de 
 travers ; mais elles ne feroient peut-etre 
 guere mieux quand elles ne sauroient pas 
 lire : ce qui est essentiel c'est d'avoir Fesprit 
 
 * Lewis, in the early pages of his celebrated novel, 
 objects to young persons reading the Bible, on this 
 ground, and the same objection is continually urged by 
 the demoralized followers of the French infidels. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 441 
 
 bien fait; on n'est pas aise a gater." — 
 " Modesty/' says Montagne, " forbids us 
 to express, by words, the things which are 
 lawful and natural, and we obey it ; reason 
 forbids us to commit unlawful and irregular 
 actions, and it is disobeyed." The truth is 
 too clear to be concealed. That extreme 
 delicacy which shudders at the simple lan- 
 guage and tale of our plain ancestors, is 
 an evidence that our imagination, as well 
 as our principles of taste, that our hearts, 
 as well as the sentiments which we deem 
 honourable, are vitiated and base. 
 
 The advantage of impressing the mind 
 with an admiration for the high virtues 
 which have been illustrated in the preced- 
 ing sheets, and with what may be termed 
 a taste for the qualities of chivalry, must 
 be acknowledged by every man who thinks 
 with the great English philosopher, that 
 u whatever withdraws us from the power of 
 our senses ; whatever makes the past, the 
 distant, or the future, predominate over the 
 present, advances us in the scale of rational 
 beings." There are indeed matter-of-fact 
 persons, who will call in question the mo- 
 v 5 
 
442 THE BROAB STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 tives, and deny the reality of the virtues 
 which have been here ascribed to the an- 
 cient knights of Europe : but if this is to be 
 the result of our acquaintance with letters, 
 it had been better for ourselves and for the 
 world, as far as we can influence it, if we 
 had remained in ignorance. With such per- 
 sons I wish not to dispute : even if their cri- 
 ticism be just, and their doubts founded on 
 reality, their folly in obtruding it is still 
 unquestionable. 
 
 " They forget how superior for mortals below 
 Is the fiction they dream to the truth that they know." 
 
 If they will maintain that the portrait is 
 too favourable when applied to represent 
 ancient manners, let them further the great 
 object of this writing by making it a resem- 
 blance of those which they practise. Men 
 of this unhappy temper might learn a lesson 
 of great wisdom from the heathen historian 
 of Alexander the Great, who was himself 
 equally famous as a soldier and as a philo- 
 sopher. "Osris Ss, says the excellent Ar- 
 rian, x«xi£ei 'Ahe%zv$qov, fxn piovov otrot ol%igc 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 443 
 
 htoj Soj exXoyi^scQco, ris rs gov avros, kcci oTroigi 
 Tuxy ycsy^qmfMsvos , ovrivx ysvoposvov sksivov xat h 
 oaov zurv/jixs Tins i^gooitivns eX0ovr#, Ba<riXea re 
 'iydQow ra.iv weigotv dvoc^(piXoycorocra. ysvopisvov, 
 xa* Ieti ^av E^ucopcevov rco ivra 6vo(A»n 9 xochiQei, 
 
 GIAIKQOTZQOS ys 6UV, KOCl llti ffpUXgOi* TTOVBplSVOS , 
 
 »Se rscvra sv jcoj/xw riSs/xsvo^ # . Reflections of 
 this kind might be urged on almost all oc- 
 casions, when the character of ancient he- 
 roes is submitted to animadversion. Cicero 
 has feelingly remarked the pleasure with 
 which we visit the places which were once 
 consecrated by the presence of great men. 
 The student of classic lore will fly to 
 Greece and Italy, and with eager rapture 
 will gaze upon the Parthenon and the ruins 
 of the Capitol ; but he who thinks that real 
 virtue is preferable to vain declamation, 
 that heroism and piety, a generous sacri- 
 fice of every selfish interest at the call ot 
 religion and of honour, 
 
 " The feeling soul's divinest glow," 
 
 are to be preferred to the cant of philoso- 
 
 * Lib. vii. 30. 
 
 v 6 
 
444 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 phers, to the morality of hypocrites, to the 
 professions of cruel, unjust, and selfish 
 men, falsely termed sages, heroes, and pa- 
 triots, such as were too many of the emi- 
 nent worthies in Grecian and Roman his- 
 tory ; he who associates the idea of such 
 characters with the antiquities of Greece 
 and Italy, will chuse other objects by which 
 this feeling, so powerfully efficacious in 
 exciting generous thoughts and virtue, may 
 be more reasonably produced. How can 
 he contemplate, with benefit to his heart, 
 the Areopagus or the forum, to suffer the 
 agony of recollecting deeds of atrocious 
 wickedness, and of republican tyranny? 
 
 Quid memorem ihfandas caedes ? quid facta tyranni 
 Effera? 
 
 Why must he join the thoughtless crowd 
 of travellers who flock to classic land, en- 
 dued with what Cicero terms " tarn in- 
 solens domesticarum rerum fastidium # ," 
 when he can behold in England, France, 
 and Germany, the towers of his rude but 
 generous ancestors ; whose vices were the 
 
 * De Finibus, 1.4. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 445 
 
 vices of men, but whose virtues, every feel- 
 ing of his heart must honour ? When he 
 can explore the dreary vaults and ruins of 
 Griffinstein and Chillon, of Pontefract and 
 of Conway, where the gentle have mourned 
 and the brave have fallen ; where virtue 
 and faith, generosity and love, have tri- 
 umphed over the oppressor : or, if he pre- 
 fers a higher tone, when he can tread the 
 proud summit of Dranchenfels, or pace the 
 terrace of Habsburg. Here the husband- 
 man will discover the rust-eaten weapons 
 and the empty helmets : 
 
 Grandiaque effossis mirabitur ossa sepulcris. 
 
 And here, as well as when beholding the 
 ruins of iEgina and of Megara, of Piraeus 
 and of Corinth, the philosopher reflects 
 upon the transitory nature of all human 
 greatness : 
 
 Reliquias veterumque videt monumenta virorura. 
 
 How affecting are the words of Sir Thomas 
 Maleore, when in the conclusion of his 
 history he leads his reader to behold, as it 
 were, the tombs of the great personages 
 
446 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 with whose lives and glory he has made 
 him so familiarly acquainted ! " O ye 
 myghty and pompous lordes shynynge in 
 the glory transytory of thys unstable lyf, 
 as in reignynge over realmes grete and 
 myghte countreyes, fortyfyed wyth stronge 
 castels and toures, edified with many a 
 ryche cyte. Ye also ye fyers and myghty 
 chyvalers soo valyaunte in aventurous dedes 
 of armes, behold, behold, see how thys 
 myghty conquerour Kyng Arthur, whom 
 in his humayne lyf all the worlde doubted, 
 ye also this noble Quene Guenever, that 
 somtyme sate in her chare adourned wyth 
 golde, perles, and precyous stones, now 
 lye ful lowe in obscure fosse or pytte, co- 
 vered wyth cloddes of erth and claye. Be- 
 hold also thys myghty champyon Launce- 
 lot, pyerless of knyghthode, see now how 
 he lyeth grovelynge on the colde moulde, 
 now beynge soo feble and faynt that som- 
 tyme was so terrible, how and in what 
 manere oughte ye to be so desyrous of the 
 mondayn honour so daungerous." But 
 there are other feelings excited by these 
 scenes. What Englishman will turn aside 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 447 
 
 from Griffinstein # , where once a British 
 monarch was a prisoner, and what lover of 
 chivalry can ascend that tower, or pace 
 that small chamber, which once cor. fined 
 the Lion-hearted Richard, without enthu- 
 siasm and awe ? It was -a lovely evening 
 in August, when I beheld the delicious 
 view which is obtained from the heights 
 above the castle. The sun was setting 
 over the Danube, which rolled in many a 
 channel between gloomy forests, which 
 were tinged with a hue of the richest pur- 
 ple. The pencil of Claude could not have 
 done justice to the landscape : 
 
 " It was a scene, at least to me, 
 As fate allows bat seldom here. 
 One of those rare and brilliant hours, 
 Which like the Aloe's lingering flowers, 
 May blossom to the eye of man 
 But once in all his weary span !" 
 
 * Richard I. was removed from this castle, which is 
 within a morning's ride of the gates of Vienna, to that 
 of Durrenstein, on the Danube, which is more gene- 
 tally celebrated as being the place of his longer con- 
 finement. I know of no spot on the continent of 
 Europe which will furnish an artist with finer subjects 
 for his pencil, than that presented in the neighbour- 
 hood of these two castles. 
 
 / 
 
448 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 In my days, the spirit of chivalry con- 
 tinued to exist in Germany, and indeed to 
 the present time it maintains its ground. 
 Visitors of all ranks are in habits of fre- 
 quenting the romantic spot which I have 
 been describing. Some spend a night in 
 the prison. I was assured that a short time 
 before my visit, the Russian General Czer- 
 nicheff, had insisted upon passing a night 
 in the huge cage of oak which is placed in 
 this chamber, and in which it is asserted the 
 King of England used to be confined for 
 the night, during the first months of his 
 imprisonment. The Prince of Lichenstein 
 is particularly attentive to the preservation 
 of this, as of the other ancient castles which 
 are in his possession. The castle of Chi- 
 valry, in the gardens of Luxembourg, is a 
 proof of the taste which distinguishes the 
 present Emperor. In this edifice, which 
 he caused to be erected upon an island in 
 a lake, after the model of a castle in the 
 middle ages, there is collected and admi- 
 rably disposed a vast variety of valuable 
 antiquities, which have been removed from 
 different castles of the empire I do not 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 449 
 
 advocate the general plan of such improve- 
 ments, but they may sometimes afford the 
 only method of preserving objects of inte- 
 rest. The castle is approached by a move- 
 able bridge : passing under a portcullis, and 
 through the court of offices, you arrive at 
 the inner gate. The apartments are small, 
 disposed and furnished in the ancient style. 
 The ceilings and wainscot, the doors and 
 window-frames are, in many instances, five 
 hundred years old. The ornaments of the 
 chapel belonged to Rodolph of Habsburg. 
 In one apartment various pieces of his fur- 
 niture are deposited : there are numerous 
 paintings of coronations and tournaments. 
 In the armoury are several figures of knights 
 and ladies in stee armour. The chamber 
 of justice is represented as disposed for the 
 interrogation of prisoners, whose bodies are 
 drawn up by a cord from the dungeon be- 
 neath, so that their head appears through a 
 round aperture in the table, around which 
 the examiners are seated. A narrow wind- 
 ing flight of steps leads the visitor to the 
 dungeon, where he beholds the figure of a 
 knight templar in chains. The prisoner 
 
450 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 lifts up his hands as you enter, and his 
 chains clash as they resume their former 
 position. Years may pass away, but the 
 memory of the writer can never lose the 
 feeling of that hour ; when upon arriving 
 at the lake which surrounds the castle of 
 Sigismondsbourg (it is situated between 
 Nassereit and Lermoos, in the Tyrol) he 
 swam across to the island, and mounted 
 the castle wall. It was a tranquil hour : 
 the moon shone bright, and not a sound 
 met the ear, but the ripple of the gentle 
 wave receding from his stroke. The lake 
 must be of prodigious depth, for the moun- 
 tains rise abruptly from every side. He 
 regarded it as a bottomless pool, and well 
 might fancy raise up the spirit of the kelpy, 
 and hear his cry ; 
 
 " Is it layman or priest that shall sleep in my cove, 
 Or lover, who crosses to visit his love." 
 
 juvat O memiuisse beati 
 
 Temporis, i 
 
 Ei0' (pQ rjtwoifxi, Birj re fioL efnredog ht) 
 
 *Qg 69 'viro Tpoirj \o%ov rjyofiev aprvvavTsg* 
 
 If he has wandered, gentle reader, from 
 the subject which should occupy your at- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 451 
 
 tention, allow him to plead the privilege of 
 that age whose delight is in the past, whose 
 life is in recollection. Slowly and heavily 
 does an old man return from such retros- 
 pects ; for when he recalls those scenes and 
 adventures of his youth, when the heart 
 was full of fancy's dream, — the midnight 
 ride over the mountains, 
 
 Eheu, quantus equis, quantus adest viris 
 Sudor! 
 
 the dismounting at the castle gate, the 
 stride along the sounding cloister ; for he 
 too has seen the Monk # who bowed in si- 
 lent reverence as he entered, whose steps 
 he followed through many a vaulted pas- 
 
 * Lord Byron alludes to the Monks of St. Bernard, 
 as ee the miserable drones of a contemptible supersti- 
 tion," or in some such words. To this I would only 
 reply, in the words of the admirable lyric poet, who 
 observes of the consul at Norfolk in Virginia, " his 
 house is the very temple of hospitality, and I sincerely 
 pity the heart of that stranger, who, warm from the 
 welcome of such a board, and with the taste of such 
 Madeira still upon his lips, ' col dolce in bocca,' could 
 sit down to write a libel on his host, in the true spirit 
 of a modern philosophist." 
 
452 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sage to the cell ! Then the return to the 
 festive board, to the cheerful hearth, 
 
 — Tep7rvov sfc KvvayiaQ 
 
 TpcL7re%a 7r\r)pr]Q' 
 
 to the friends whose remembrance sweet- 
 ened danger, and whose presence made 
 every '* dear scene of enchantment more 
 dear O then, he can exclaim with Cras- 
 sus> " me senem esse sum oblitus." 
 
THE 
 
 The first profession to which a Christian 
 can aspire, is the service of God as his Mi- 
 nister. In a worldly point of view, the 
 highest profession for the younger branches 
 of nobility, is the Church. Princes and 
 emperors have left their thrones to clothe 
 themselves in the mantle of Religion. 
 Knights and heroes have sought a similar 
 refuge, from the disappointments and mi- 
 sery of the world. The nobles in every 
 country of Europe, who were not devoted 
 , to arms, have esteemed it highly honour- 
 able to be dedicated to the service of the 
 Altar ; and such is still the prevailing opi- 
 
454 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 nion and practice of Europe. The Arch- 
 duke Rodolph, son of the Emperor, is at 
 this moment vested with the sacerdotal 
 character ; and some of the highest nobles 
 of England have brothers and sons among 
 the Clergy. Nor is this custom confined 
 to those countries which enjoy the light of 
 Christianity. The Priests in the religion 
 of the East/are, necessarily, noble ; and the 
 offices of religion were of equal consequence 
 in the nations of Greece and Rome. This 
 is nothing but what the natural sense and 
 piety of mankind will recommend and re- 
 quire. It is right that, in every view, the 
 ministers of God should be vested with the 
 highest dignity ; that they should exalt their 
 mitred front in Courts and Parliaments ; 
 that they should be dispersed throughout 
 all the classes of society. * The people 
 of England," says Mr. Burke, " know 
 how little influence the teachers of reli- 
 gion are likely to have with the wealthy 
 and powerful of long standing, and how 
 much less with the newly fortunate, if 
 they appear in a manner no way assorted 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 455 
 
 to those with whom they must associate, 
 and over whom they must exercise, in some 
 cases, something like an authority. Our 
 provident constitution has therefore taken 
 care that those who are to instruct pre- 
 sumptuous ignorance, those who are to be 
 censors over insolent vice, should neither 
 incur their contempt nor live upon their 
 alms." And he affirms that the people of 
 England must suspect the principle of those 
 who maintain the contrary of this position, 
 and who affect " to carry back the Clergy 
 to that primitive evangelic poverty, which 
 in the spirit ought always to exist in them, 
 (and in us too, however we may like it) but 
 in the thing must be varied, when the rela- 
 tion of that body to the state is altered ; 
 when manners, when modes of life, when 
 indeed the whole order of human affairs 
 has undergone a total revolution, we shall 
 believe these reformers to be then honest 
 enthusiasts, not as now we think them, 
 cheats and deceivers, when we see them 
 throwing their own goods into common, 
 and submitting their own persons to the 
 austere discipline of the early Church." 
 
456 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 This, however, is a profession for which I 
 am to suppose that you are not intended. 
 It would be indeed an awful undertaking 
 had I to instruct you in the duties of that 
 solemn ministry. The limits of my object 
 preserve me from this difficulty, and I 
 hasten, therefore, in pursuance of this ob- 
 ject, to consider what may be the nature 
 of the profession which, as a gentleman 
 and as a layman, you may be called to ex- 
 ercise. But having been once under a ne- 
 cessity of adverting to the subject, I feel 
 that it would be highly criminal in me to 
 turn from it without calling your attention, 
 and endeavouring to imprint upon your 
 memory, the guilt and the disgrace which 
 must rest upon those young men who em- 
 brace this profession unworthily; that is 
 to say, who take holy orders from a base 
 desire after the emoluments and comfort 
 which the profession may hold out, while 
 their hearts are conscious that they are not 
 dedicated to God. Would to heaven that 
 the degenerate spirit of our youth did not 
 render this caution necessary ! A worldly 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 457 
 
 Priest # , a clerical adept in the crooked 
 paths of modern civil policy, a trifling, 
 sporting, dissipated Curate, these denote 
 a character which of all others in the ex- 
 amples of human inconsistency, is the most 
 contemptible. These vices and defects, 
 which he gathers from other professions, 
 acquire from his character a new stain of 
 
 * Grosseret.e, Bishop of Lincoln, had promulgated 
 a diocesan statute which " forbade all ecclesiastics, 
 and all in holy orders, to exercise secular employments 
 in future. " Ovre yeujpyov — upea KaraaTarsov, says Aris- 
 totle, v7ro yap ru)v iravTbiv Trptirei n\xa(sdai rovg Seovg. 
 Po. vii. c. 9. In the romance of Huon de Bourdeaux, 
 the Abbot of Clugni laments his inability to defend 
 Huon when they are attacked by the conspirators, 
 saying, " Ha beau neven regardez que vous ferez et 
 n'ayez en moy fiance d'etre secouru, car bien scavez 
 que nullement je ne vous puis en ce cas aider, je suis 
 prestre qui sert a Jesus Christ, nullement je ne puis 
 estre ou horarae soit occis ou mis a mort par glaive 
 so that the practice, during the Holy Wars, was an 
 exception to the acknowledged duty of the clergy. 
 Upon these occasions, however, they made no scruple 
 of appearing in complete armour; and at one period 
 we read, that there were present the Archbishop* 
 of Ravenna, Pisa, Canterbury, Besaneon, Nazareth, 
 Montreal, and the Bishops of Beauvois, Salisbury, 
 Cambrai, Ptolemais, and Bethleem. 
 
458 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 deformity. To borrow the language of a 
 great and excellent Magistrate, whose sen- 
 tence I would apply to this example : " De- 
 pised by those to whose wisdom he cannot 
 attain, he is still more so by those whom 
 he endeavours to surpass in dissipation. 
 Deserter from his God, the vice to which 
 he flies does not give him any credit for his 
 desertion ; and always a stranger wherever 
 he finds himself, the world rejects him, and 
 he is disowned by the Gospel # ." What- 
 ever may be the opinion of laymen at the 
 present day, touching the duties of the 
 ecclesiastical profession, certain it is, that 
 in the age of chivalry, the character to 
 which we have alluded was held in con- 
 tempt and horror. How could it have been 
 otherwise ? The knight, himself a Chris- 
 tian, himself a devoted servant of the 
 blessed Jesus — could he look with feelings 
 of indifference or indulgence at a Priest, a 
 Minister of God, who should be cold and 
 careless, and destitute of all heavenly- 
 mindedness ? I repeat it, the institution 
 
 * The Chancellor D'Aguesau. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 459 
 
 of chivalry favourable to the developement 
 of all virtue, was powerfully calculated to 
 preserve the clergy, as far as knowledge 
 could point the way, in the principles of 
 their holy profession. A Priest, according 
 to the sentiments of chivalry, is to be es- 
 teemed by gentlemen of other professions, 
 not in proportion to the skill and zeal which 
 he displays in wielding the weapons of con- 
 troversy, to the bitterness and severity of 
 wit with which he conducts the combat of 
 the schools, to his proficiency in the exer- 
 cise of laymen, and in mere worldly ac- 
 complishments, to the rank of the society 
 in which he may have been placed by birth, 
 and accustomed to move; but in propor- 
 tion to the holiness of his character, an- 
 swering to the habit w T hich he bears ; to his 
 meekness, to his charity, to his disinte- 
 restedness, his devotedness to the Gospel, 
 and his discharge of those offices, which in 
 all ages of the world, and under all modi- 
 fications of human society, are incumbent 
 upon the ministers and stewards of the 
 mysteries of Christ. This judgment re- 
 specting men of the ecclesiastical profes- 
 x 2 
 
460 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sion, every gentleman who respects the 
 principles of his order is bound to hold 
 and to display. Beware then how you ap- 
 proach the sanctuary, and how you touch 
 the altar. Beware lest you undertake a 
 service for which you are not qualified by 
 courage ; for remember that no man can 
 discharge the office of a Christian Priest, 
 " nisi qui honeste dicere et sciet et au- 
 debit # ," unless he is prepared to preach 
 " Christ crucified ; to the Jews a stumbling 
 block, and to the Greeks foolishness." 
 Examine then your own character. Attend 
 to your age, to your taste ; these are not to 
 be overlooked. Defer, meditate, do any 
 thing but decide hastily ; you will have dif- 
 ficulties to surmount, prejudices perhaps 
 to overcome, hostility and indifference to 
 endure ; but though the world may forget 
 its duty, and escape contempt, you will 
 have to discharge yours, or to incur inde- 
 lible infamy. Though others may refuse 
 to co-operate with your endeavours, though 
 they may be careless, and inattentive, and 
 
 * Quintilian. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 461 
 
 displeased, it will be for you to stand alone. 
 Have you the courage to proclaim your re- 
 solution in the words of Cicero ? M Hoc 
 onus si vos aliqua ex parte allevabitis, fe- 
 ram, ut potero, studio et industria, — sin a 
 vobis (id quod non spero) deserar, tamen 
 animo non deficiam, et id, quod suscepi, 
 quoad potero, perferam. Quodsi perferre 
 non potero, opprimi me onere officii malo, 
 quam id quod mihi cum fide semel impo- 
 situm est, aut propter perfidiam abjicere, 
 aut propter infirmitatem animi deponere 
 Above all, remember that the essential 
 qualifications for this order are piety and 
 love. " Jesus Christ," says Fenelon f , 
 " must demand of you as he did of St. 
 Peter, ' lovest thou me V And you must 
 make answer, not with your lips, but from 
 your heart, * yea, Lord, thou knowest that I 
 love thee; 9 then you will deserve that he 
 should say unto you, c feed my sheep.' " 
 
 I must trespass upon my reader's atten- 
 tion while I relate a familiar anecdote. It 
 
 * Cicero pro Sex. Roscio Amer. 
 
 f In his letter to the Elector of Cologne. 
 
 x 3 
 
462 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 was upon a damp and stormy evening, in 
 the month of January, that I dismounted 
 at the Inn in Basingstoke, having ridden 
 about fifty miles from the west. When my 
 horse was lodged in the stable, and my 
 dinner ordered, I walked towards a ruined 
 Church which stands upon a hill about 
 half a mile from the town, on a spot which 
 is still the burial-ground of that place. It 
 was about the hour of evening song, but 
 the darkness of the weather threw a shade 
 of deep gloom over the country, which well 
 accorded with the feelings that such a spot 
 was calculated to inspire. In addition to 
 this, I stood by the tomb of a knight who 
 had served in the holy land. It was a mo- 
 ment for reflection : 
 
 " Oh ! there's a holy calm profound 
 In awe like this, that ne'er was given 
 
 To rapture's thrill • 
 'Tis as a solemn voice from heaven, 
 And the soul, listening to the sound, 
 Lies mute and still !" 
 
 The tolling of a bell from the church in the 
 town, announced the departure of a funeral 
 procession, which I observed at a distance 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 468 
 
 approaching and ascending the hill. The 
 presence of a stranger upon such occasions, 
 whose indifference to the scene will natu- 
 rally be presumed, can never be desirable. 
 I retired, therefore, among the ruined walls, 
 to a spot whence I could observe the so- 
 lemnity without appearing as a spectator. 
 The Priest was arrived at the grave ; a little 
 boy who followed his steps, appeared to 
 suffer all the agony of woe. At that mo- 
 ment, when every unhallowed thought was 
 subdued within me, when I was listening 
 with breathless awe, to catch, between the 
 gusts of wind, those solemn words which 
 commence the service for the dead, what was 
 my astonishment when the Priest began, in 
 a vulgar tone of rage and menace, to re- 
 prove the Clerk for having mistaken some 
 previous orders respecting the surplice 
 which he was to wear on that occasion ! 
 Has the writer done wrong in disclosing the 
 fault, the crime of an individual whose or- 
 der he venerates, and whose person it should 
 be his pride to honour ? It is not to point 
 out the evidence of inhumanity, which this 
 example affords, that he here records it; 
 x 4 
 
464 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 but it is for the purpose of illustrating that 
 new principle, that vulgar opinion, which 
 would assimilate men of all orders and pro- 
 fessions to one model. Upon this, as upon 
 many occasions in human life, the feelings 
 of the Poet and of the man of virtue are 
 necessarily the same ; and from the whole 
 we are led to conclude that there is a con- 
 nection between genius and the best affec- 
 tions of our nature : that a want of what 
 is generally termed taste, will argue to a 
 certain extent the absence of virtue ; and 
 that a vulgar mind, which attends to no- 
 thing but matter-of-fact and interest, which 
 disbelieves the existence of sentiment, and 
 despises the dictate of feeling, will be an 
 evidence that nature, in every line of her 
 operation, is unassisted by the Divinity, 
 and that vice has dominion in the heart. 
 To these observations, addressed to men 
 of the clerical order, let me be allowed 
 to add one word of admonition, to remind 
 those of the laity who may possess eccle- 
 siastical patronage, that they also have 
 duties to discharge in reference to the qua- 
 lifications for holy orders. It cannot be 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 465 
 
 necessary in this place, to expose the atro- 
 cious impiety of those gentlemen invested 
 with such privileges, who exercise them 
 with a view solely to the interest of their 
 families and estates, and not to that of the 
 Church, whose sons and defenders they 
 are. It must be sufficient to pronounce, 
 once for all, that they sin not alone against 
 religion, but also against the rules of their 
 order and the first principles of chivalry. 
 The practice of the middle ages, even at 
 the period of greatest corruption and dark- 
 ness, might be produced in confirmation of 
 this statement. Even the example of Wil- 
 liam the Conqueror may be cited, who 
 readily concurred in the deposition of his 
 uncle Malger, Archbishop of Rouen, for 
 having disgraced his dignity by the immo- 
 rality of his conduct, and who showed that 
 it was to merit he had regard, by endea- 
 vouring to place in the same church the 
 monk Guitmond, from whom he had for- 
 merly received a severe reprimand. We 
 have said that knights and emperors have 
 sought a refuge in this profession, from the 
 disappointments and misery of the world, 
 x 5 
 
466 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 > 
 
 The description of the priests and hermits in 
 the Morte d'Arthur is very interesting. They 
 are always spoken of as " the good man/' 
 or with some approving epithet. When Sir 
 Launcelot recovered from his swoon from 
 the wound in his side, he cried out, " O 
 Lauayn, helpe me, that I were on my hors, 
 for here is fast by within this two myle, a 
 gentyl heremyte, that somtyme was a fulle 
 noble knyghte, and a grete lord of posses- 
 sions. And for grete goodenes he hath 
 taken hym to wylful poverte, and forsaken 
 many landes, and his name is Sire Baude- 
 wyn of Bretayn, and he is a ful noble sur- 
 geon, and a good leche." And the hermit 
 says of himself, " for somtyme I was one 
 of the felauship of the round table, but I 
 thanke God now I am otherwyse disposed." 
 
 " And thenne anonethe hermyte staunch- 
 ed his blood, and made hym to drynke good 
 wyn, so that Sir Launcelot was wel re- 
 freshed, and knewe hymself. For in these 
 days it was not the guyse of heremytes as 
 is now a dayes. For there were none he- 
 remytes in tho dayes, but that they had ben 
 men of worshyp and of prowesse ; and tho 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 467 
 
 heremytes held grete housholde, and re- 
 fresshyd peple that were in distresse." Sir 
 Launcelot himself ends his life in a hermit's 
 habit. After taking leave of the Queen, 
 " he rode alle that daye and alle that nyghte 
 in a fores te, wepynge. And at the last he 
 was ware of an hermytage, and a chappel 
 that stode betwene two clyffes, and than he 
 herd a lytel belle rynge to masse, and thy- 
 der he rode and alyghted, and teyed hys 
 hors to the gate, and herde masse. And 
 he that sange the masse was the byshop of 
 Caunterburye. Bothe the byshop and Syr 
 Bedwere knewe Syr Launcelot, and they 
 spake togyder after masse, but whenne Syr 
 Bedwere hadde told hym his tale, Syr Laun- 
 celot's herte almost braste for sorowe, and 
 Syr Launcelot threwe abrode hys armour, 
 and sayde, Alias who may trust thy s world. 
 And then he knelyd doune on hys knees, 
 and prayd the byshop for to shryve him 
 and assoile hym. And than he besoughte 
 the bysshop that he might be his broder. 
 Than the byshop sayde, I wylle gladly, and 
 than he putte an habyte upon Syr Launce- 
 lot, and than he served God day and nyghte 
 x 6 
 
168 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 with prayers and fastynges." In like man- 
 ner Sir Bors comes to the chapel, and fol- 
 lows his example. So does Syre Galyhud, 
 Syr Galyhodyn, Syr Bleoberys, Syr Vyl- 
 lyars, Syr Clavrus, and Syr Gahalantyne. 
 " And whan they sawe that Syr Launcelot 
 had taken hym to such perfecyon, they had 
 noo lyste to departe, but toke such an ha- 
 byte as he had. Thus they endured in grete 
 penaunce vi yereg"f and thanne Syr Laun- 
 celot toke the habyte of preesthode, and a 
 twelvemonethe he sange mass." 
 
 Some years ago, when I visited the con- 
 vent of the grand chartreuse in Dauphiny, 
 one of the Fathers was pointed out to me 
 as having been once a general officer in the 
 French army, and a member of several high 
 military orders. The last memorable action 
 of Charles V. is known to all the world ; so 
 also is the history of the Abbe de Ranee. 
 A French lady of rank, who travelled in 
 Spain at the commencement of the seven- 
 teenth century, has related a curious in- 
 stance of this abandonment of the world 
 for the service of the altar, which fell under 
 her own observation. The morning after 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 469 
 
 her arrival at Alava, a town in Castile, she 
 went to the church to hear mass. " I es- 
 pied an hermit who had the air of a person 
 of quality, and yet begged alms of me with 
 such great humility, that I was greatly sur- 
 prised at it." Don Fernand having notice 
 of it, drew near and said to me, " the per- 
 son whom you behold, Madam, is of an il- 
 lustrious family and of great merit, but his 
 fortune has been very unhappy." Upon my 
 requesting that he would satisfy my curi- 
 osity, he replied, " that he would endea- 
 vour to prevail upon him to relate his own 
 adventures :" he left me, and went to em- 
 brace him with the greatest civility and 
 tenderness. Don Frederic de Cardonne and 
 Don Estere de Caragal, had already ac- 
 costed him as their old acquaintance. They 
 all earnestly entreated that he would come 
 to them when mass was over ; he as ear- 
 nestly excused himself, and being told that 
 I was a stranger, and very desirous of hear- 
 ing from his own lips what had induced 
 him to turn hermit, he appealed to the com- 
 pany, saying, " do us justice, and judge 
 you whether it is fit for me to relate such 
 
470 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 particulars, in this habit which I wear?" 
 They confessed that he was in the right to 
 decline it. The substance of his history, 
 which was then related by these gentlemen, 
 was as follows. I* His mistress, one of the 
 most beautiful women in Spain, had been 
 stabbed by his rival, who then made his 
 escape. Don Lewis de Barbaran, for that 
 was the hermit's name, one of the finest gen- 
 tlemen in the world, and of the first family, 
 had pursued the murderer over half Europe, 
 traversing Italy, Germany, Flanders, and 
 France. It was on his return to Valencia, 
 while still breathing out vengeance against 
 his enemy, that his conscience was awa- 
 kened by Divine grace to a sense of the 
 vanity and wickedness of his own heart. 
 From that moment his ardour for revenge 
 was changed into a desire of repentance 
 and of religious consolation ; he returned 
 to Sardinia, where he sold his paternal 
 estates, which he divided among his friends 
 and the poor. It was upon a mountain near 
 Madrid, where he first established his her- 
 mitage, but his health declining, he was 
 prevailed upon to draw nearer the abode of 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 471 
 
 men, and to reside in a convent within the 
 walls of this town." The lady desired the 
 gentlemen to present her compliments to 
 Don Lewis, and to give him two pistoles. 
 Don Fernand and his friends gave the same 
 sum. Here, they said, is wherewith to en- 
 rich the poor of the province, for Don Lewis 
 never appropriates such great alms as these 
 to himself. " We told him," continues the 
 lady, " that he was the master, and might 
 dispose of the money as he pleased." 
 
 It was about four o'clock, upon a sum- 
 mer's morning, when I mounted the steep 
 and difficult track which leads to the convent 
 of the Capuchins, standing upon the side of 
 the mountain which overlooks the city of 
 Saltzbourg. I passed through the house, a 
 picturesque and simple dwelling, and went 
 into the garden, which commands one of 
 those awful and magnificent views which 
 no person can conceive who has not wit- 
 nessed the finest Alpine scenery; a splendid 
 city with a river at your feet, a castle upon 
 the opposite bank crowning the brow of a 
 dark and ragged rock of proud elevation, a 
 narrow valley enclosed by steep mountains, 
 
472 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 the summits of which seem nearer than 
 their bases, alps on alps, vast tracts of 
 snow reaching into the higher clouds — 
 while the little spot itself on which you 
 stand, divided into plots, planted with a 
 few flowers and common culinary vege- 
 tables, bespeaks, like the minds of the holy 
 men who cultivate it, nothing but sweet- 
 ness, humility, and peace. One of the old 
 friars was busily employed in weeding his 
 bed of onions, with a look of cheerfulness 
 and content, mixed with a little of self- 
 importance, which was far from forbidding. 
 At this moment, the trumpets sounded from 
 the court of the palace in the city below, 
 the beat of drums, and the cracks of whips, 
 announced that the emperor, who happened 
 to be at this time in Saltzbourg, had 
 mounted his carriage to make ah excursion 
 to the neighbouring baths. The echo re- 
 sounded along the sides and through the 
 chasms of the mountains, till it was lost in 
 the upper regions of ice and snow. The 
 old friar continued to weed his onions, pre- 
 senting a contrast with the bustle and con- 
 fusion of the world which he had forsaken, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 473 
 
 that must have struck the most giddy and 
 thoughtless of mankind. It may be pos- 
 sible for those who read the description of 
 this scene to declaim upon the indifference 
 of the modern cynic, upon the lazy seclu- 
 sion of an ignorant friar ; but he who beheld 
 the reality can think only upon the virtues 
 and the happiness of a religious life, the 
 dignified wisdom, the lofty independence, 
 the everlasting peace of the Christian and 
 the sage. 
 
 My object in having detained you so 
 long upon this unusual subject may be 
 briefly stated. If men in holy orders should 
 be weaned from the love of this world, and 
 convinced of the truths which they have 
 to enounce, the experience of an active life 
 may be a useful qualification for those who 
 undertake this sacred office. " Apres tout, 
 il n'y a de vraie joie que celle d'aimer 
 Dieu # ," was the lesson derived from a 
 long acquaintance with the world, and not 
 from mere study and reflection. Therefore 
 we should not discourage those who may 
 
 f M de de Sevigne. 
 
474 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 have purchased this great advantage, from 
 applying it to so excellent a purpose, nor 
 for the sake of securing mere literary ac- 
 complishment, abandon the practice of the 
 primitive ages, and sacrifice the cause of 
 God. But, secondly, I was anxious to 
 draw your attention for a moment to the 
 means of securing consolation and honour- 
 able employment for yourself in the event 
 of future adversity or change of circum- 
 stance. We live in a world where every 
 thing around us is uncertain : 
 
 Ta jxev ovv fieWovr ovSeig etpopa* 
 
 All that we hold dear and secure may fail 
 us in an instant. It may happen that we 
 shall lose the ability of exercising our ori- 
 ginal profession, and of appearing any 
 longer in the station to which we thought 
 ourselves designed. Our means, our ta- 
 lents, our very hearts may fail us. And in 
 this event, Philosophy herself could not 
 picture so great a blessing as that of being 
 permitted to close our day in the Lord's 
 vineyard, as that of being received into this 
 haven of rest and quietness, against which 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 475 
 
 the storms of this cold world may beat in 
 vain, where, 
 
 u In strains as sweet 
 As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace V 
 
 With us in England, the doors of Par- 
 liament throw open an important and cer- 
 tainly a most honourable stage for the ex- 
 ercise of ability and virtue, but we must 
 be sensible that the entrance is replete with 
 obstacles which may employ the one to the 
 neglect and forfeiture of the other. To be 
 an independent member of the lower house, 
 is the boast of many, but the fortune of 
 few ; and while the walls may re-echo with 
 the eulogies of freedom, and the Ministers 
 of the State be called upon to reform the 
 ancient fabric of the government, it is im- 
 possible to forget that this same eloquence 
 has been prostituted at the shrine of false 
 liberty, and that they who are the loudest 
 in the censure of others, are often the most 
 deeply involved in the crimes which they 
 condemn. It is quite astonishing how gen- 
 
 * Yet remember, U O quanta dementia est spes lon- 
 gas inchoantium ! Emam, aedificabo, credam, exigam, 
 v honores geram, turn demum lassam et plenam senectu- 
 tem in otium referani." 
 
476 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 tlemen of virtue and of honour can descend 
 to the steps and measures which the people 
 have sometimes, and in certain places, re- 
 quired of those who aspired to represent 
 them. It is quite unaccountable how men 
 of rank and property can adopt a political 
 career,, the success of which would lead in- 
 evitably to the suppression of the one and 
 to the plunder of the other. 
 
 " If thou canst hate, as, Oh ! that soul must hate 
 Which loves the virtuous and reveres the great : 
 If thou canst loathe and execrate with me 
 That Gallic garbage of Philosophy, 
 That nauseous slaver of these frantic times, 
 With which false Liberty dilutes her crimes ! 
 If thou hast got, within thy free-born breast, 
 One pulse, that beats more proudly than the rest 
 With honest scorn for that inglorious soul 
 Which creeps and winds beneath a mob's control*, 
 Which courts the rabble's smile, the rabble's nod, 
 And makes, like Egypt, every beast its God." 
 
 Hope and perseverance may sup- 
 port the statesman even in the most ad- 
 verse and conflicting moments — Virtue will 
 induce the Patriot to stand by the Consti- 
 tution of his country, and thus to discharge 
 
 * " Nihil ista, quae populi speciem et nomen imita- 
 tur immanius belua est. 1 ' — Cicero de Repub. III. 33. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 477 
 
 the highest duty that can fall to the lot of 
 a mortal man, since, as Cicero has said, 
 " neque enim est ulla res, in qua propius 
 ad deorum numen virtus accedat humana, 
 quam civitatis aut condere novas aut con- 
 servare jam conditas # ." — A sense of honour 
 and of justice will urge a gentleman to op- 
 pose the cowardly artifices, and the base 
 sophistry of men who would pull down 
 the government of their country, with the 
 hope of joining in the spoil, — but I do not 
 know that the desire of happiness, or the 
 dictate of dignified ambition, would lead 
 any gentleman of elevated sentiments to 
 solicit an appointment to public life. " Non 
 enim multum prodest vitia sua projecisse 
 si cum alienis rixandum est." It can be 
 but little honour or pleasure, under any 
 circumstances, to sit down with men who 
 are disloyal to their King, and traitors to 
 their religion ; to be joined in fellowship 
 with honourable pretenders, who have no 
 thoughts in common with men of honour ; 
 to be fronted with the vain insolence of 
 new-made wealth ; to suffer the agony 
 
 * De Repub. I. vii. 
 
478 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 which every generous mind must experi- 
 ence when its judgment and its feelings are 
 insulted by that fallacious declamation, by 
 that secret abandonment or open disavowal 
 of all the elevated sentiments of Christia- 
 nity and honour, by which men in every 
 station of life, who have minds like the 
 vulgar, are invariably distinguished, to be 
 borne down by the empty clamour of proud 
 ignorance and obstinate prejudice, to listen 
 to the hypocritical suggestions of selfish- 
 ness and avarice, or to the dull, reiterated 
 murmurs # of disappointed ambition. 
 
 The profession of the law will of course 
 present itself, and the question will arise 
 whether it be consistent with your order. 
 Now this appears to me to be altogether 
 a question of individual character, and not 
 one that will admit of any general conclu- 
 sion. If you are of studious habits, of a de- 
 cided disposition of mind, not to be influ- 
 enced by the subject of your study, and of 
 
 * u Accusatores multos esse in civitate utile est, 
 ut metu contiueatur audacia : verum tamen hoc ita est 
 utile, ut ne plane illudamur ab accusatoribus." 
 
 Cicero, pro. S. Ros. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 479 
 
 a devotion to truth, not to be perverted or 
 overcome by sophistry ; if you are firmly 
 established in the principles of religion, and 
 if you are one of those elevated spirits which 
 are raised above the world, above its temp- 
 tations and its opinions, in that case you 
 may embrace this profession, and look up 
 to a Cicero, a Sulpicius # , a D'Aguesau, a 
 More, a Bacon, a Clarendon, a Hale, a 
 Mansfield, and an Eldon, as your dignified 
 masters. But if this be not your character, 
 if nature has not so fashioned, and practice 
 confirmed these habits, if a higher power 
 has. not so refined and elevated your mind, 
 I exhort you not to undertake it. 
 
 I confess this is the only conclusion that 
 I can come to upon the subject. What 
 authority more weighty, what judgment 
 more sound and impartial than that of Lord 
 Clarendon? And yet what observation 
 does he make upon the effects of a legal 
 education ? He -says, " it introduces men 
 
 * The legal character of Ser. Sulpicius was admi- 
 rable, "neque ille magis juris consultus quam justitiae 
 fuit : neque constituere litium actiones malebat, quam 
 controrersias tollere." 
 
480 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 into the language and practice of business; 
 and, if it be not resisted by the great inge- 
 nuity of the person, inclines young men to 
 more pride than any other kind of breed- 
 ing ; and disposes them to be pragmatical 
 and insolent, though they have the skill to 
 conceal it from their masters, except they 
 find them (as they are too often) inclined 
 to cherish it." And with what a lively 
 image does Lord Bacon represent the dan- 
 ger of an indiscriminate defence of right 
 and wrong, though the mind may be con- 
 vinced at the time, when he says, that 
 V certain it is that words, as a Tartar's bow, 
 do shoot back upon the understanding of 
 the wisest, and mightily entangle and per- 
 vert the judgment f 9 - which is not wonder- 
 ful if we consider what Cicero has said : 
 " nihil est tarn incredibile, quod non di- 
 cendo fiat probabile : nihil tarn horridum, 
 tarn incultum, quod non splendescat ora- 
 tione, et tamquam excolatur* and which 
 may be regarded as the judgment of heaven 
 by those who hold the opinion of Socrates, 
 hv yap ttov Sepuy to) 6p%a$ Xeyovn (as ouy%cupeiv + 
 
 * Paradox vi. 
 
 f Plato Hipp. Major. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 481 
 
 It is not that I object in toto to the 
 theory of the legal profession, for though 
 Cicero perceived the grand objection to 
 which it is exposed, and seemed to distrust 
 his own sentence against the objection and 
 in favour of the practice, (very remarkable 
 indeed are his words, and very slender the 
 authority which removed his scruples # ), 
 but that I observe and deprecate its prac- 
 tical tendency ; its effect upon the mind, 
 upon the judgment, and upon the heart. 
 It is not that I would subscribe to the defi- 
 nition of an advocate, as lately delivered 
 and laid down before the most solemn au- 
 dience that the world could produce. Of 
 that portrait there certainly can be but one 
 opinion among honest men. It has how- 
 ever, I trust, no original to make it of 
 importance, and therefore it cannot be too 
 quickly effaced from our memories ; for 
 while there are diseases of the body which 
 it is dangerous to behold, there are also 
 mental images from which we should turn 
 
 * " Quod scribere (prsesertim cum de philosophia 
 scriberem) non auderem, nisi idem placeret gravissimo 
 stoicorum Panaetio." De Off. II. xiv. 
 
 Y 
 
482 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 aside to escape pollution, to both of which 
 that verse is applicable. 
 
 " Dum spectant oculi laesos, laeduntur et ipsi." 
 
 The arguments of Cicero are the same as 
 those of the later writers, who profess to 
 defend the ordinary practice of the profes- 
 sion, although the Roman lawyer seems 
 less confident of his argument than content 
 with his authority ; " vult hoc multitudo, 
 patitur consuetudo, fert etiam humanitas," 
 It must be confessed also, that were the 
 question one that could be determined by 
 the conclusion, from a naked, abstracted 
 theory, the writers who support it would 
 easily overcome their opponents : but this 
 is not the case, as I have before observed. 
 We must pay attention to a multitude of 
 effects, connections, and circumstances, 
 which follow from it, and which must be 
 taken into account when we are to decide 
 for ourselves, or for any individuals who 
 are estimating its advantages. The reason- 
 ing upon the one side is plausible, and 
 perhaps unanswerable ; yet from the ab- 
 stracted line of the argument, without be- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 483 
 
 ing guilty of resisting truth, the mind may 
 remain in suspense till the experience, the 
 observation, and the individual feeling of 
 the enquirer may at length confirm him in 
 the opposite opinion, that " the indiscri- 
 minate defence of right and wrong con- 
 tracts the understanding, while it corrupts 
 the heart, Subtilty is soon mistaken for 
 wisdom, and impunity for virtue. If there 
 be any instance upon record, as some there 
 are, undoubtedly, of genius and morality 
 united in a lawyer, they are distinguished 
 by their singularity, and operate as excep- 
 tions/' In this very severe sentence, the 
 author of Junius has excluded all conside- 
 rations of a religious nature, though it cer- 
 tainly appears to me that it is from such 
 the objection can be most forcibly urged, 
 and it was not incumbent upon either the 
 philosopher or the politician to exclude 
 them from his regard. I confess, however, 
 freely, that views and reasoning of this 
 kind have appeared to me to determine the 
 question. That desire of establishing a 
 legal reputation, so essential to the candi- 
 date for future employment, while the words 
 y2 
 
484 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 of Cicero are before me, u Difficile est, cum 
 prastare omnibus concupieris servare sequi- 
 tatem, quae est justitiae maxime propria 
 that habit of regarding the side of justice 
 (vain men, how little qualified are we to 
 judge # ) instead of mercy; that habit of 
 looking up to authority and law as the re- 
 straining principle of human conduct, in- 
 stead of relying for virtue upon the piety 
 and principle of individuals f, that dispo- 
 
 * We are told that a woman of Sycyone who had 
 poisoned her husband and son, in revenge for their 
 having put to death her son by a former marriage, a 
 youth of hopes, and her chief pride, was dragged from 
 tribunal to tribunal, before any judge would venture 
 to decide upon her case. She was at length brought 
 before the Areopagus, and after a long consideration, 
 the sentence was postponed, and the parties were or- 
 dered to appear and attend the trial after a hundred 
 years. What would our modern lawyers say to this } 
 " You are not fit to be a judge," said Cromwell, in a 
 passion, to Judge Hale. " I know it," was the reply. 
 
 f " La politique," says Montesquieu, (Esprit des 
 loix, 3. v.) " fait faire les grandes choses avec le moines 
 de vertu qu'elle peut — L'Etat subsiste independam- 
 ment de l'amour pour la patrie, du desir de la vraie 
 gloire, du renoncement a, soi-meme, du sacrifice de ses 
 plus chers interets et de toutes ces vertus heroiques que 
 nous trouvons dans les anciens et dont nous avons 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 485 
 
 sition to regard the utility and practical 
 result of measures as the criterion of their 
 value, and that custom of office which 
 identifies impunity with innocence, which 
 is ready to sacrifice the end to the means, 
 the object of the legislator to the letter of 
 the law # ; these effects, all and separately, 
 are death to the high and generous feel- 
 ings which refine and purify the soul : they 
 tend to destroy those grand general im- 
 pressions of right and wrong which must 
 be kept alive, and ready at the call of a 
 
 settlement entendu parler. Les loix y tiennent la place 
 de toutes ces vertus, dont on n'a aucun besoiti : I'etat 
 vous en dispense ; une action qui se fait sans bruit, y 
 est en quelque fa$on sans consequence." 
 
 * Those are fine lines in the French Tragedy. 
 
 " Le devoir le plus sainte, la loi la plus cherie, 
 Est d'oublier la loi pour sauver la palrie." 
 
 A sentiment which is open to abuse, but which is 
 nevertheless just. The words of Aristotle are memo_ 
 rable. 
 
 '* Kat to fir] wpog tov vofiov, d\\a7Tpog tov vo/jlo$£T7]V 
 gkotcuv Kat to firj irpoq tov \oyov, dXka ttqoq ttjv dia- 
 voiav ts vofjioSrers okotteiv, Kat firj ttqoq ttjv 7rpa%iv 
 
 dXka TTpOQ T7]V 7Tp0aip£GlV % Kat flT) 7Tp0Q TO [J,EpOQ, dXkd 
 
 irpoQ to 0X01/," 
 
 Rhetor, i. 
 
 Y 3 
 
486 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 moment to direct you ; that habit of mercy 
 which must be the first feature of your 
 character ; that full confidence in the virtue 
 of other men which must spring from the 
 conviction of your own ; that unqualified 
 preference of principle and worth, aboye 
 the mere service of interest and necessity 5 
 that disdain for the bands and trammels of 
 the letter of rule ; that utter indifference 
 to the utility and consequences of virtue, 
 which are all and separately essential to 
 that -elevated character which you desire, 
 and are bound to imitate. Upon the whole 
 then, after a consideration of the question, 
 with all its relations, and after an honest 
 examination of your own powers, habits, 
 and disposition, you will make that deci- 
 sion which disowns every ba&e and un- 
 worthy motive ; the decision of conscience 
 and of honour, which will ensure to you 
 your own respect, whatever may be the 
 subsequent opinion which experience shall 
 induce you to adopt. 
 
 The transition is sudden from the law to 
 the army, from the practice of the courts to 
 the exercise of the camp. From what has 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 487 
 
 already appeared in relation to the virtues 
 of the chivalrous character, you will be sen- 
 sible that this must be a profession highly 
 honourable, and worthy of your rank. The 
 great advantage of the profession of arms, 
 is its practical influence, the effect which it 
 produces upon the character ; and this, you 
 will remember, is the criterion by which we 
 should judge of all professions and modes 
 of employment. The soldier is religious 
 and brave, humane # and merciful, open- 
 hearted and just, frank, sincere, faithful, 
 and firm. 
 
 Quo justior alter 
 
 Nee pietate fuit, nee bello major et armis : 
 
 the lamb and flag were borne by the knight 
 templars, to signify the union of these qua- 
 lities, of gentleness with the martial spirit. 
 These are high virtues, and certainly it 
 
 * There is a curious passage in Plato's republic, I 
 think in the second book, where Socrates explains how 
 mildness and 1 the warlike spirit (irpaov Kai fieyaKoOvfiov 
 rjOog) may be united in the soldier, and both, he says, 
 are essential. 'AWa \iivtoi t&twv owoTeps av ortpjjrat 
 tyvkaZ, dyaOog 4 fie yevt)rcu. 
 
 y4 
 
488 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 would seem from experience that these are 
 the result of its natural tendency. What 
 is taken from the mind may be made of ser- 
 vice to the heart, " Car jusque dans 1'em- 
 barras et au milieu du bruit des armes," 
 says the great Sully, " il se presente a qui 
 sait les chercher, des ecoles excellentes de 
 vertu et de politesse." History will indeed 
 present us with instances that seem to con- 
 tradict this opinion; we shall meet with mei* 
 like the Duke of Alva and Count Tilly ; 
 Frederic the Great and Oliver Cromwell; 
 like the Baron des Adrets and his friend 
 Montluc, who distinguished themselves by 
 cruelty in the reign of Charles IX. of France : 
 like Peter the Cruel of Spain, and Napo- 
 leon Buonaparte : but these are undoubt- 
 edly exceptions to the general rule, which 
 may be laid down, <( intus fide, foris ferro 
 se muniunt," said Saint Bernard of the 
 knights templar ; and in the same exhorta- 
 tion to these holy warriors, he affirms "miro 
 quodam ac singulari modo cernuntur et ag- 
 nis mitiores et leonibus ferociores # ." The 
 soldier is often deficient in learning, but he 
 
 * Exhortatio ad milites Templi. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 489 
 
 is frequently the most religious # without 
 hypocrisy, and the most sound in his judg- 
 ment without vain pretension : he is little 
 skilled in the intricacies of legal justice, 
 and still less is he qualified to adjust the 
 theological balance of the schools ; but his 
 decision will be seldom mistaken, and his 
 piety will be sincere. Like the Centurion 
 in the Acts ; like the grand master of the 
 order of St. John, Pierre d'Aubusson, the 
 first captain of his age, the father of the 
 poor, the saviour of Rhodes, the sword and 
 buckler of Christendom; like a Bayard, 
 a Hopton, or a Falkland, he will be devout 
 towards God, and benevolent to man. Our 
 attentionhas been elsewhere directed to the 
 humanity and generosity which were re- 
 quired and practised in chivalrous warfare. 
 
 * Xenopbon lays it down as essential to the charac- 
 ter of a General, that he should be impressed with a deep 
 sense of religion, Agesil. 3. calling it, fitya kcli koXoy 
 KrtifjLa avdpi argar^y^ ; and Polybius, in comparing the 
 characters of Scipio and Lycurgus, attributes to both 
 of those renowned generals the same disposition ; the 
 former, he says, was continually impressing it on the 
 people, wg fitra rrjg Qetag tTwrvoiag iroiov^ivog rag im- 
 $o\ag, lib. x. 2, 
 
 Y 5 
 
490 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 It may be proper to select two instances 
 from history, that will exhibit, in a striking 
 manner, these virtues which are more pe- 
 culiarly developed in the profession and 
 exercise of arms. In the battle of Wa- 
 terloo, a French officer mounted upon a 
 powerful charger, rode up to Colonel Her- 
 vey, whom he was about to strike to the 
 ground, when perceiving that the Colonel 
 had lost his right arm, he saluted him, 
 turned aside his horse, and galloped off. 
 
 Among the slain in the battle of Creci, 
 the most distinguished was John, King of 
 Bohemia : age had not chilled in him the 
 fire of youth ; though blind, he placed him- 
 self in the first division of the French, and 
 as the issue grew dubious, ordered the four 
 knights, his attendants, to lead him into 
 the hottest of the battle, u that I too," said 
 he, " may have a stroke at the English." 
 Placing him in the midst of them, and in- 
 terlacing their bridles, they spurred for- 
 ward their horses, and were almost imme- 
 diately slain # . 
 
 * A similar instance will occur to the recollection of 
 scholars, where the Greek tragedian represents Uae old 
 king of Thessaly putting on his armour, and desiring 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 49i 
 
 That is a grand passage in the chronicle 
 of Archbishop Turpin, where heroes are re* 
 minded of their double warfare. With a 
 similar lesson, in conformity with the spirit 
 of our order, and in the very words which 
 once transported the warlike nobility of 
 France, I will conclude my remarks on 
 the noble profession of arms. " Guerriers 
 chretiens, qui cherchez sans cesse de vains 
 pretextes de guerre, rejouissez vous, vous 
 en trouvez aujourd'hui de veritables. Voici 
 le moment de montrer si vous etes animes 
 d'un vrai courage. — Soldats de Tenfer, de- 
 venez les soldats du Dieu vivant. — 99 The 
 heroes were roused to an enthusiasm such 
 as never before had been excited by the 
 tongue of man. The whole assembly rose 
 up and shouted, " Dieu le veut, Dieu le 
 
 to be led into the battle against the common enemy. 
 The chorus exclaims — 
 
 Arifia [xsv 6Ww GTopovai xpovog 
 To gov, d\V rfiq,- crwfxa de fpovdov. 
 
 The old warrior declares that he will enter the hottest 
 throng, and that they shall see him, 
 
 Ai domdog Obvovto. TcoKijiibiv riva. 
 
 Eurip. Heraclid. 
 
 y6 
 
492 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 veut. — Oui, sans doute, Dieu le veut, v con- 
 tinued the Pontiff, " vous voyez aujourd'hui 
 Taccomplissement de la parole du Sauveur, 
 qui a promis de se trouver au milieu des 
 fideles assembles en son nom ; c'est lui qui 
 vous a dicte ces paroles que je viens d'en- 
 tendre ; qu'elles soient votre cri de guerre, 
 et qu'elles annoncent partout la presence 
 du Dieu des armees." Still there is a holy 
 war, still it is our duty to engage in it. 
 Dieu le veut. Rise up then, soldier of the 
 living God, and take from God's armoury 
 a sword of etherial temper. Set forward 
 in full assurance of faith, arrayed in that 
 panoply divine, which alone is able to 
 quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. 
 
 I have now sufficiently occupied your 
 patience with respect to the selection of 
 a profession which may J)e suitable to your 
 birth and rank. I have said enough to in- 
 form you what are my views and habits of 
 thinking upon the subject. It did not ap- 
 pear necessary to enter upon a review of 
 those pursuits which are chiefly directed 
 towards the attainment of wealth, because 
 I had no reason to suppose that there was 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 493 
 
 any motive or influence that could induce 
 you to embrace them. In the sequel of these 
 instructions, I shall have occasion to touch 
 upon the subject of property somewhat at 
 large. For the present I shall be satisfied 
 with assuring you that the absence of afflu- 
 ence is no misfortune, and that the inheri- 
 tance of a virtuous name is of more value 
 than all the treasures of the East # . 
 
 *Ovk 8<tti Tovde iraicn kclKKiov yspag 9 
 
 *H TTCLTpOQ 'SCQXOV KOLyaOoV 7TS<l>VK6Vai f . 
 
 * Ovdtig &7r\&Tt]Ge rax^Q Sucaiog wv f was the sen- 
 tence of Menander. Brantome repeats an old saying 
 which was applied to the heirs of men who had made 
 money : 
 
 " Bien heureux est le ills de qui l'ame du Pere est 
 damnee." To which Shakspeare makes Heury VI. al- 
 lude in his reply to Clifford, 
 
 <{ And happy always was it for that son 
 Whose father for his hoarding went to hell. ,, 
 
 The justice of the reproof is admitted by Lord Bacon, 
 where he says, " there is rarely any rising but by a 
 commixture of good and evil arts, ,, yet it would be idle 
 to deny that wealth is sometimes the reward of vir- 
 tuous exertion, unaided by evil arts, 
 f Eurip. Heracl. 298. 
 
494 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 It is not for you indeed to cherish pros- 
 pects of future wealth, " semper eris pau- 
 per, si pauper es," for as the great master 
 of philosophy and human nature has wisely 
 observed, it is not easy for a gentleman to 
 become rich, being neither disposed to re- 
 ceive nor to ke^p money, but liberal, and 
 esteeming it only as the instrument of ge- 
 nerosity. Therefore, wealth is termed for- 
 tune, becuse they are the least rich who are 
 the most deserving of riches. 
 
 nxov ovTa, jxjite <[)vX<x,x,tix.ov, wqoerixov Se koli {jlyi 
 npoJVToi. St olvtcl t<£ %^)^aroL aXX' ivsxa rws 
 foceuS. Aio xou syxaXsirou rri tv^e, qti ol jxa- 
 X<ot« ajjioi fores ypligtgc ttX&thgi # . 
 
 * Aristotle. Ethics iv. 
 
THE 
 
 WHICH BELONG TO THE ORDER. 
 
 It must be confessed that the cultivation 
 of literature was a subject but of little im- 
 portance in the estimation of the ancient 
 knights and barons of Europe. They had 
 few examples to encourage them. It is 
 true, of Charlemagne, Eginhart relates, 
 " Inter ccenandum aut aliquod acroama, 
 aut lectorem audiebat. Legebantur ei his- 
 toric et antiquorum Regum gesta. Delec- 
 tabatur et libris S. Augustini, prascipue lis, 
 quse de civitate Dei inscripsit and again, 
 " Latinam ita didicit, ut aeque ilia ac pa- 
 tria lingua orare sit solitus : Graecam vero 
 melius intelligere quum pronuntiare poterato 
 Tentabat et scribere tabulasque et codicil- 
 
496 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 los ad hoc in lectulo sub cervicalibus cir- 
 cumferre solebat, ut cum vacuum tempus 
 esset,manum efEgiendis literis assuefaceret. 
 Seel parum prospere successit labor prcepos- 
 terus, ac sero inchoatus." Still a thousand 
 instances of ignorance might be adduced 
 from history. The renowned Du Guesclin 
 had never learned to read, and the heroic 
 Bayard was certainly not a man of letters. 
 The Poet Alain Chartier pours forth a dole- 
 ful complaint of the ignorance which pre- 
 vailed among the great lords of his time. 
 " This foolish language is current," he ob- 
 serves, " parmi les curiaulx, that a noble 
 man should not know the alphabet, and 
 they regard it as a reproach against their 
 gentility if they are thought to read or 
 write well. Alas ! who could say any thing 
 more foolish, or publish a more dangerous 
 error." And there is a curious anecdote 
 related by another writer, to prove that it 
 was sometimes considered a disgrace to be 
 seen for a moment in the society of learned 
 men. " Le comte d'Anjou Foulques grise 
 gonelle, pique de ce que le roi Louys fils 
 de Louys le Simple et ses courtisans s'etoient 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 497 
 
 mocques de ltd, 1'ayant rencontre parmi les 
 clercs en l'Eglise de Tours, leur respondit 
 fort hardiment qu'un Roy non lettre et un 
 asne couronne ne differoient en rien." But 
 what is worse still, it would be useless to 
 deny that this ignorance sometimes ex- 
 tended to subjects of the greatest practical 
 importance. When I read the deed by 
 which my worthy ancestor bequeathes a 
 portion of his land to the brothers of S. 
 Lazarus, for the salvation of his own soul, 
 and the souls of his family % it would be 
 in vain to silence the judgment which sug- 
 gests the sad probability that his want of 
 information may have involved him in dan- 
 gerous practical error. True it is that the 
 simplicity and the faith of these men may 
 
 * It may be worth while to give this document as 
 a specimen. 
 
 Carta Johannis de Diggeby militis de dimidia acra 
 terras in Billesdon. 
 
 Sciant (&c.) quod ego Johannes de Diggeby miles, 
 dedi (&c.) fratri Roberto de Danby, magistro de Bur- 
 ton S. Lazari et fratribus ibidem Deo et S. Lazaro ser- 
 vientibus unam dimid. acram terrae arabilis in terri- 
 torio de Billesdon in puram et perpetuam elemosinam, 
 pro salute animae meae et antecessorum meorum, &c. 
 
 Dugdale Mon. II. 399. 
 
m THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 have preserved and sanctified them even in 
 their mistakes, so that even these appa- 
 rently vicious and superstitious acts may 
 not, after all, have proceeded from the 
 compromising principles and the base su- 
 perstition to which we now so generally 
 ascribe them. But, however this may be, 
 it would be great injustice to bring a 
 charge against the knights and barons, or 
 to suppose that their vices and errors were 
 part of the spirit of chivalry, since they 
 were rather the vices and errors of their age, 
 and since the very authorities which we have 
 quoted will prove that the spirit of chivalry 
 condemned them. It would not be difficult 
 to discover instances in every age, where 
 men of learning were patronized by the un- 
 lettered nobles, not to bring forward the ex- 
 amples of Charlemagne and Alfred. Rodolph 
 of Habsburg being presented by a citizen 
 of Strasburgh with a manuscript, describ- 
 ing the wars of the Romans against the 
 Germans, he bestowed on the author a gold 
 medal and chain, which he was accustomed 
 to wear round his neck. His reply to the 
 complaints of his relation who reminded 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 499 
 
 him that the troops wanted their pay, is 
 strikingly characteristic of that great man. 
 " Would to God I could employ more time 
 in reading, and could expend some of that 
 money on learned men which I must throw 
 away on so many illiterate knights." The 
 Emperor Maximilian I. was himself an au- 
 thor, and he employed persons of learning 
 to promote the general interests of litera- 
 ture. But even whex<e this ignorance of 
 letters, and almost of the common princi- 
 ples of policy, was palpable and acknow- 
 ledged, there was an honesty and a cer- 
 tain confidence in personal courage and 
 virtue which indicated a great generosity 
 and nobleness of soul. Thus Sir Thomas 
 Maleore relates, that u after the feste and 
 joumeye, Kynge Arthur drewe hym unto 
 London, and soo by the counceil of Mer- 
 lyn, the kyng lete calle his barons to coun- 
 ceil, for Merlyn had told the kynge that 
 the sixe kynges that made warre upon hym 
 wold in al haste awroke on hym and on his 
 landys, wherfer the kyng asked counceil 
 at hem al, they coude no counceil gyve, but 
 said they were bygge ynwgh, ye saye wel, 
 
500 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 said Arthur. I thanke you for your good 
 courage, but wil ye al that loveth me speke 
 with Merlyn # ." Upon the whole, we may 
 learn from the fact of this general igno- 
 rance, a lesson which may be of great im- 
 portance to the men of our age, who are 
 engaged in the cultivation of science, or 
 in the eager pursuit of literary fame. — That 
 the want of these advantages may be com- 
 patible with the exercise of honour, virtue, 
 and Christianity ; that the religion of the 
 Gospel, which had formed the heart of 
 Bayard, is far more efficacious in the cor- 
 rection and refinement of our nature, than 
 even the learning of a Bentley, or the theo- 
 logy of a Bossuet. The scholar may in- 
 struct the world with his learning, the phi- 
 losopher may astonish and benefit it by his 
 researches, the man of letters may give a 
 polish and a charm to society, but he who 
 is possessed of simple faith and of high 
 honour, is, beyond all comparison, the 
 more proper object of our affection and re- 
 verence. His qualities, his acquirements, 
 
 * Cap. x. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 501 
 
 are more or less connected with the im- 
 mortal part of his nature. " Every thing 
 else," says the incomparable Fenelon, 
 " dies j" then, alluding to religion, he adds, 
 " elle ne meurt jamais." 
 
 ov yap fjvvtteia GvvOvrjaicei fiporoiQ. 
 
 Kav Z&gi, kclv SavuxTiv, ovk airoXkvTai. 
 
 Sophocl. Philoctet. 1444. 
 
 The facts of subsequent history will fur- 
 nish a convincing evidence that the spirit 
 of chivalry was not hostile to the advance- 
 ment of knowledge. We are sufficiently 
 ready to condemn the roving disposition of 
 chivalry ; but however plausible may be the 
 arguments with which we endeavour to ex- 
 pose its absurd and injurious effects, we 
 should not forget, that this habit or pro- 
 pensity may not be, after all, prejudicial 
 even to the interests of letters. Erasmus 
 was the greatest traveller of an age, when 
 learned men were in habits of visiting the 
 different countries of Europe. What greater 
 traveller than Cicero, who used to pursue 
 his studies even during his voyages ? and 
 if we look back still farther, we shall find 
 
302 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 it related of Plato, that he was continually 
 moving about. 
 
 'E%ero7ri%e Ss Kai avrog ra ttXugtci. 
 
 Diog. Laert. 
 
 But these are considerations of greater im- 
 portance to a gentleman than the interest 
 of letters. What says Montagne ? * Je ne 
 scache point meilleur escole, comme j'ay 
 dit souvent, a former la vie, que de luy pro- 
 poser incessamment la diversite de tant 
 d'autres vies, et luy faire gouster une si 
 perpetuelle variete de formes de nature." 
 
 Since the dawn of science, and the revival 
 of learning, the higher ranks of society 
 have more than kept pace with the growing 
 cultivation of the age : they>appear conspi- 
 cuous in the researches of learning, in the 
 discoveries of science, in the service of re- 
 ligion, and in every branch of useful know- 
 ledge which has been cultivated by the 
 nations of Europe. In Spain the warriors 
 have been distinguished as men of letters. 
 The Prince Don Juan Manuel, descendant 
 of Saint Ferdinand, is the first distinguished 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 503 
 
 author of the fourteenth century. Succeed- 
 ing to him we are reminded of Pedro Lopez 
 de Agala, grand chancellor of Castile. With 
 us in England, the first historian and the 
 first philosophers have been gentlemen — a 
 Clarendon, a Boyle, a Bacon, a Newton. 
 And in Italy, France, and England, the 
 most humble, the most virtuous, and the 
 most pious Priests that ever adorned the 
 Church of Christ, have been men of noble 
 or ancient blood, — a Borromeo, a Fenelon, 
 a Pole, a Berkeley # . I wish to make you 
 
 * It may be an invidious, but it will certainly bean 
 obvious, and, I conceive, an important question, whe- 
 ther the custom in England of rewarding men of low 
 origin with the Episcopal Office, be favourable to the 
 promotion of piety, humility, and virtue, in the high 
 station. I certainly fear that the effect is the reverse ; 
 there have been always, and there are at this day, shin- 
 ing examples which might be urged against this opi- 
 nion, but I regard them as exceptions, and I hold that 
 experience will still warrant my conclusion. There 
 will be frequently, if not always, learning and ability, 
 sometimes independence and humble piety, in men of 
 this description, who rise to be dignitaries of the 
 Church ; but the common sense and observation of 
 mankind will still proclaim that authority is always 
 dangerous, and often fatal to the minds of persons who 
 have been thus raised from insignificance. No reason- 
 
504 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sensible of two facts, which may appear at 
 first to contradict each other. On the one 
 hand, that it will be of the highest conse- 
 quence to your future happiness and means 
 of utility, if circumstances shall enable you 
 to cultivate a taste for literary pursuits, 
 and a habit of philosophic reflection. And 
 upon the other, I wish to encourage your 
 honourable ambition by assuring you that 
 if circumstances may not permit you to 
 provide this source of future enjoyment 
 and assistance, the path of Christianity and 
 honour is still open, with every thing that 
 is noble, lovely, and of good report, to ani- 
 mate your exertions in that career. It is 
 wonderful that men of leisure and of afflu- 
 ence, of sensible minds and of virtuous in- 
 tentions, should overlook the advantage 
 
 ing can ever set aside this incontrovertible axiom of 
 experience. Yet is there evil attending every expe- 
 dient and policy, and therefore the conclusion from 
 the whole is not that any new direction should be given 
 to the patronage of the Church, but that the danger 
 consequent upon the present system, in which liability 
 it only resembles every other human system, should be 
 perceived by those who are exposed to it, and that 
 these men should be on their guard. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 505 
 
 which is afforded to them in the acquire- 
 ment of general knowledge. They have 
 every thing to enable, to encourage, and to 
 reward them. Affluence, or at least a com- 
 petent fortune, will place the volumes of 
 history and philosophy within their reach. 
 The respect which is sure to attend the ac- 
 quisitions of the great, might serve to en- 
 courage them. The " haud facile emer- 
 gunt," &c. is not to dishearten them at the 
 threshold, but the certainty of success is to 
 stimulate their exertion. 
 
 iile 
 
 Clams erit,fortis, justus, sapiens ne ? etiam ! et rex, 
 Et quidquid volet. 
 
 The benefit which they might confer upon 
 mankind, and the desire of exalting the re- 
 nown of their family, might, we may well 
 imagine, awaken their virtue and excite all 
 their laudable ambition. You will probably 
 remember that passage where Mr. Gibbon 
 employs himself in tracing the origin of 
 Fielding to the Counts of Habsburg, and 
 when after artfully contrasting the knights 
 and sheriffs of Leicestershire with the Em- 
 perors of Germany and kings of Spain, he 
 z 
 
506 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 goes on to observe, with one of those pointed 
 sentences in which the literal sense is no- 
 thing, but in which this powerful writer will 
 frequently urge and illustrate a general 
 truth with the most captivating ingenuity. 
 " The successors of Charles the Fifth," he 
 observes with proud satisfaction, M may 
 disdain their brethren of England ; but the 
 romance of Tom Jones, that exquisite pic- 
 ture of human manners, will outlive the Pa- 
 lace of the Escurial, and the imperial Eagle 
 of the House of Austria." 
 
 How insignificant and unprofitable must 
 appear the most splendid prize of vulgar 
 ambition, when contrasted with the dignity 
 and serene enjoyment of a Christian philo- 
 sopher or man of letters in his retirement 
 from public life ? It was on the 25th of 
 March that M. Both and M. de la Barthe, 
 arrived atHartwell, bearing the intelligence 
 to Louis XVIII. that his nephew had been 
 received at Bordeaux with transports of 
 joy, and that the flag of the Bourbons was 
 waving over the second city of the French 
 empire. It was the day of the Annuncia- 
 tion, and mass was celebrating at the mo 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 507 
 
 ment. The court resounded with acclama- 
 tions, but the King and Madame continued 
 in devout prayer, without betraying any 
 emotion. It would be difficult to find upon 
 the page of history a more sublime exem- 
 plification of the lesson which is here incul- 
 cated. Again, take an example from the 
 records of heathen antiquity. What were 
 triumphs and fasces, what were consular 
 power or political renown to Cicero # , in his 
 
 * I have no patience with Montagne, when he cri- 
 ticises the conduct and character of Cicero, or rather 
 of every man of learning and science, saying that 
 " mille femmelettes ont vescu au villaye une vie plus 
 equable, plus douce et plus constante que ne fut la 
 sienne, ,, which proves nothing but what is well known, 
 that dullness is uniform and consistent while the full 
 tide of genius, and even of piety, are subject to that ebb 
 which brings back man to the appointed level of huma- 
 nity. Neither can I endure his degrading and often 
 ridiculous argument, to prove that brutes are but little 
 inferior to men, or his contemptuous mention of the 
 ancient romances which, by the way, is not wonder- 
 ful, since he speaks of " ces genereux meurtriers de 
 Caesar," and since by his very constitution he seems 
 hostile to whatever ascribes dignity to man. " J'ai en 
 general cette humour," he says, " que toutes les opi- 
 nions que I'anciennete a eues de Phomme, celles que 
 je embrassc plus volontiers, et auxquelles je m'attache 
 
 z 2 
 
308 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 hours of study and reflection at Tusculum — 
 when he was composing his Hortensius, the 
 Academics, the de Finibus, the Tusculan 
 Disputations, — learning to despise death, 
 to endure adversity, to submit with patience 
 to the accidents of human life, to moderate 
 the passions, to feel that virtue is sufficient 
 to make men happy? There are persons 
 who find no enjoyment comparable to that 
 of philosophic conversation. How many 
 instances may we recollect, even in the 
 page of chivalrous history and romance, 
 where the inestimable advantage of having 
 a mind capable of such enjoyment is ex- 
 emplified ! 
 
 Sermo oritur, non de villis domibusve alienis, 
 Nec, male necne Lepos saltet ; sed quod magis ad nos 
 Pertinet, et nescire malum est, agitamus ; utrumne 
 Divitiis homines, an sint virtute beati ? 
 Quidve ad amicitias, usus rectumne, trahat nos ? 
 Et quae sit natura boni ? summumque quid ejus > 
 
 le plus, ce sont celles qui nous mesprisent avilissent, 
 et aneantissent le plus." A passage of this kind re- 
 quires no comment. I have had frequent occasion to 
 quote Montagne, and therefore I avail myself of this 
 opportunity to disclaim any unqualified admiration of 
 his philosophy, which in many instances would better 
 become a heathen cynic than a Christian gentleman or 
 philosopher. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 509 
 
 Let no man, in the sun-shine of youth and 
 fancy's dream, neglect opportunities and the 
 means of securing a future good, of which, if 
 life be spared, he will assuredly stand in need, 
 and which can never be recalled if they be 
 once neglected. " Retirement and leisure 
 without letters are death:" this was the 
 opinion of Seneca ; and retirement and lei- 
 sure await us all. 
 
 Quam cito purpureos deperdit terra eolores! 
 Quam cito formosas populus alba comas! 
 
 So is it with the pride of man. Youth 
 will lapse into age, alas ! how impercep- 
 tibly? 
 
 — Ta%a yap <re irapepxtrai, ovap rffirj. 
 
 The delight of bodily exercises will wane 
 with the season which required, will fail 
 with the strength which supported them. 
 What higher feelings of enjoyment than 
 those which swell the bosom of the warrior, 
 the IwwoSofjLos Exrop when mounted upon his 
 exulting steed ? And yet the day is not far 
 distant, when the horse and his rider will 
 cease to know each other. Fled will be that 
 z 3 
 
510 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 buoyant spirit which lived by exercise ; wi- 
 thered and gone that superfluous strength 
 which excited the desire of activity. 
 
 u Heu senibus vitae portio quanta manet?" 
 
 But though these enjoyments shall fail, the 
 pleasures of a cultivated mind, the delight 
 of literary or philosophic pursuits in union 
 with religion, will accompany him unto the 
 end. Nor need we attend to that ground- 
 less objection which has been produced 
 from the days of St. Paul to the present 
 time, by men who restrain the manifold 
 ways which wisdom hath to teach men by 
 to one only way of teaching, which is by 
 Scripture. Who shall define and limit the 
 bounds of wisdom ? Wisdom was Adam's 
 instructor in Paradise : wisdom endued the 
 fathers who lived before the law with the 
 knowledge of holy things. " Reason," con- 
 tinues Hooker, " is as the weapon that slew 
 Goliah, if we be as David was that use it." 
 There is no kind of knowledge whereby 
 any part of truth is seen, but we justly ac- 
 count it precious : whether it be that Egyp- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 511 
 
 tian and Chaldean wisdom, mathematical, 
 wherewith Moses and Daniel were furnish- 
 ed ; or that natural, moral, and civil wisdom 
 wherewith Solomon excelled all men ; or 
 that rational and oratorical wisdom of the 
 Grecians, which the apostle St.Paul brought 
 from Tarsus ; or that Judaical, which he 
 learned in Jerusalem,sittingatthe feet of Ga- 
 maliel : to detract from the dignity thereof, 
 were to injure even God himself/' 
 
 When Montagne went to reside at his 
 chateau of Montagne, he began the compo- 
 sition of his Essays, because, as he tells us, 
 he liked neither shooting, nor building, nor 
 gardening, nor the management of a farm ; 
 and the pursuit of literature, we well know, 
 transported the suffering and terrified Ovid 
 from the snows and wilderness of Thrace. 
 
 Tu solatia praebes 
 
 Tu curae requies, tu medicina mali 
 
 Tu dux, tu comes es ; tu nos abducis ab Istro, 
 
 In medioque mihi das Helicone locum *. 
 
 And when Cicero was fatigued with the dis- 
 tractions of political warfare, he preferred 
 
 * Trist. iv. 
 
 z4 
 
512 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 the study of Atticus, and the bench under 
 the statue of Aristotle, to the curule chair 
 of the forum # . But besides this, a cer- 
 tain degree of learning is necessary not 
 only to amuse our intervals of leisure, but 
 even to form our minds and habits of 
 thinking into that mould which corres- 
 ponds with the character of our order, and 
 to prepare and qualify us for the scenes of 
 active life which are appropriated generally 
 to our estate. For instance, we have seen 
 elsewhere that a proper contempt of death 
 is an attribute of chivalry which followed 
 necessarily from the faith it professes, but 
 let me remind you, in this place, that the 
 volumes of history and of poetry are cal- 
 culated to produce the same effect. It was 
 no idle insult over a suppliant enemy when 
 Achilles said to the youthful son of Priam, 
 
 'A\\a, Qikog, Save Kai <rv Ttrj oXoQvpeai avrwg ; 
 KarOave kcli TlarpoKkog, oirep ceo 7ro\\ov a/mvwv. 
 Ov% bpaag, biog K^yor icaXog rt, psyag re, 
 TLarpog 8' iifi ayaOoio, Ssoi ds \k kyuvaro /t^rjjp. 
 
 'A\X' 67TI TOl KafJLOl SfCLVCLTOQ Kdl fiOlpCt KpCLTClir) 
 
 * Epist. ad Attic, iv. 10. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 513 
 
 r 07riroT£ rig Kai s/ieio apu g*c Srvpov eXjjrat, 
 *H oye dapi Ba\wi>, rj clko vevpycpiv otory. 
 
 In these words the victim of approaching 
 death was reminded of a lesson which will 
 appease and gratify the dying hero in every 
 age. Thus Lucian represents Antilochus 
 endeavouring to reconcile Achilles to his 
 death. " Behold how many of your com- 
 panions are now here : and Ulysses him- 
 self will soon arrive ; oqas tov HgaxXea, xa* 
 tov /MsXeaygov, xat dXkous ©qlv^olotqvs avSgas"." 
 Again, in the tragedy, how the terrors of 
 death are dissipated when the idea of again 
 beholding Hector occurs to Polyxena, and 
 she addresses her mother in these affecting 
 words, 
 
 Tt cot TTpog 'E/crop, r) yspovr unit) itogiv ; 
 
 Feelings of this description, so closely al- 
 lied to the highest virtues that grace the 
 human heart, can never be inconsistent 
 with that divine religion, which conduces, 
 by still more effectual means, to the same 
 great end, of enabling man to meet death 
 with firmness and resignation. From con- 
 siderations of this kind I would lay it 
 z 6 
 
511 THE BROAD STONE Otf HONOUR. 
 
 down, as a rule, that every gentleman 
 should have a personal and intimate ac- 
 quaintance with the great men of all ages, 
 particularly with the heroes of the Iliad. 
 Homer has been the rapture of high and 
 generous spirits in all periods of the world, 
 and indeed it seems an anomaly to suppose 
 a gentleman to be ignorant of the subse- 
 quent events and heroes of the Grecian and 
 Roman histories ; but these are advantages 
 which can only be obtained through the 
 medium of the Greek and Latin languages, 
 of which we may still say, " non tarn prae- 
 clarum est scire, quam turpe nescire for 
 though it be true that our ancestors were 
 destitute of the learning that could enable 
 them to enjoy the ancient authors in their 
 original language, we are not therefore to 
 conclude that they were uninspired by their 
 spirit and their genius ; that their bosoms 
 did not glow with emulation at the names 
 of Hector and of Caesar; that their minds 
 were not exalted by the strains of Homer, 
 or by the lessons of Xenophon. The very 
 reverse of this will be our conclusion when 
 we remember how feeble must be the efforts 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 515 
 
 of a modern translator when compared 
 with those of the minstrels who sung to 
 knights in their castles, inspiring them 
 with the spirit, while they described the 
 actions of the ancient heroes. But this 
 channel of knowledge is now unknown ; 
 that of translations and abridgement is 
 puerile and inefficient, and therefore with 
 the Greek and Latin languages every gal- 
 lant man should, if possible, be acquainted. 
 Some learning is, indeed, quite indispen- 
 sable, seeing the alternative which now 
 must await those who are deprived of it. 
 For, however we may justly deplore that 
 perversion of genius, which sacrifices many 
 of the highest qualities of the human cha- 
 racter to the acquirement of a minute ac- 
 quaintance with the learning of the an- 
 cients, still it is far, and indeed beyond 
 all comparison preferable that a gentleman 
 should be occupied with the deeds and for- 
 tunes of the heroes, and even with the very 
 words which are immortalized by Homer 
 and by Xenophon, by Virgil and by Ta- 
 citus, than that his time and his thoughts 
 z 6 
 
516 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 should be devoted to the pursuit of money, 
 or of some other ignoble object, destined 
 to be the gaze of vulgar men, than that his 
 mind should be fixed upon the plow and 
 the furrow, and " his talk be of bullocks." 
 Still, however, let it be confessed, there 
 are circumstances and events in human life 
 which may debar you from an advance in 
 the paths of literature and science. But 
 let not this discourage or afflict you. There 
 is still a field thrown open for honourable 
 exertion, and for the attainment of digni- 
 fied renown. In the country, in the camp, 
 in Parliament, at Court, you may seize 
 that " vantage-ground," of piety and inde- 
 pendence, integrity and honour, which will 
 give you a pre-eminence above the proudest 
 flights of mere human glory, and even be- 
 yond the reach of human applause. There 
 you may stand, a terror to the wicked, and 
 a beacon to direct the good ; and, clothed 
 in this simple, humble, unattractive, and 
 unpretending character, it may be your lot 
 to encourage or to intimidate the scholar, 
 the philosopher, the minister, and the So- 
 vereign. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 517 
 
 Yvoit] d' av ojq ra rroWa y* dv9pu)7rov 7rtpt 
 
 TO (TXWf 1 ' Tl Gp £ l 7TS<pVKEV svytvrjg*. 
 
 Such is the testimony of the poet, which 
 the experience of men in all ages will illus- 
 trate and confirm. 
 
 Frange miser calamos. 
 
 This is a dignity to which no learning or 
 science, or mere worldly attainments will 
 ever conduct you. It is a dignity upon 
 which the pride of intellect may gaze with 
 hopeless envy. Virtue, virtue only can se- 
 cure it. It is, in fact, above all grandeur 
 and above all praise ; and this, you will re- 
 member, by prayer to God and by honour- 
 able efforts, may be made your own. 
 
 With respect to the advantages attached 
 to a literary life, there are many consider- 
 ations that will occur to qualify the regret 
 with which you may contemplate their ab- 
 sence. 
 
 " Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, 
 And pause awhile from learning to be wise." 
 
 Tt 7r\eiaSt(Tcn Ka pot 
 Ti d' aarpcKJi Bowrew ; 
 
 * Eurip. Ion. 242, 
 
518 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Life is too short, and the duty which we 
 must fulfil too important to recommend 
 these exclusive pursuits which terminate 
 with our present perishing existence. " II 
 ne faut rien desseigner de si longue ha- 
 leine." Far more truly wise is the philo- 
 sophy of Seneca. " Quid te torques et ma- 
 ceras in ea qusestione quam subtilius est 
 contemsisse quam solvere. * 
 
 " Why do you trouble and distract your- 
 self in that question, which it is more pro- 
 found and acute to despise than to deter- 
 mine ? I have no leisure for these vanities. 
 A momentous affair is in my hands : what 
 shall I do ? Death pursues me, life is on 
 the flight. Against these difficulties teach 
 me something. Stop death in the pursuit, 
 prevent life from flying. Exhort me to 
 endure difficulties, to maintain an even 
 temper, to contemplate what is inevitable, 
 to escape from the pressure of the time. 
 Teach me that the good of life consists not 
 in its duration, but in its use : that it is 
 possible, nay that it happens frequently, 
 for him who has long lived to have had but 
 a short life. Say to me, when I am about 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 519 
 
 to lie down to sleep, you may never rise 
 again : say to me when I have risen, you 
 may never sleep again. Say to me, when 
 I go out from my house, you may never re- 
 turn : say to me when I return, you may 
 never more go out # ?" These are, after 
 all, the more essential lessons for a gentle- 
 man and for a Christian ; and if it be a fact 
 what has been beautifully expressed by an 
 English writer, that " true wisdom comes 
 more from the heart than from the head f," 
 certainly we shall be confirmed in our opi- 
 nion, that it is in action and not in the se- 
 dentary employments of the study, that 
 we can promote the cause of virtue. " In 
 omnibus fere minus valent prsecepta quam 
 experimenta." And this just observation 
 of Quintilian has been urged and enforced 
 by Cicero, when he affirms that the dis- 
 cipline which includes all the rules for a 
 virtuous conduct, is to be acquired in life, 
 
 * Epist. xlix. 
 
 f Every one has heard of the remark of Lord 
 Shaftesbury, while few are aware that the Christian 
 Father has made the same : " in corde sapientia est." 
 
 Lactantius, Inst. iii. 
 
520 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 and not in books # . The historian, of whose 
 death Montagne was a witness, complained 
 in his last moments that fate was cutting- 
 short a history which he was writing at the 
 fifteenth or sixteenth of the French kings, 
 whereas it was the maxim of Montagne, 
 amidst the occupations and even amuse- 
 ments of life, ff il faut estre tousjours bote 
 et prest a partir, en-tant qu'en nous est." 
 
 Of what inferior importance are all the 
 advantages and accomplishments of human 
 learning, nay, even the most sublime attain- 
 ments of philosophy, when compared with 
 the acquisition of that temper, which, while 
 it avoids the Platonic extreme of affecting 
 to be accustomed to die +, leads the mind 
 to contemplate the certainty of death with 
 cheerfulness, and to meet its approach with 
 spirit? I have known many gallant gen- 
 tlemen who have lamented the injudicious 
 zeal of those ministers of religion who 
 choose the subject of the terrors of death, 
 to display the grace and pathos of an ora- 
 
 , * Tuscul. IV. 
 
 f " Tota enim philosophorum vita commentatio 
 mortis est." Cic. Tus. I. 30. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 521 
 
 torical composition, far better adapted to a 
 heathen audience than to an assembly of 
 Christians. Montagne's idea, that we should 
 be always armed and spurred, like the young 
 esquires in attendance of a baron's castle, 
 has always appeared to me more wise and 
 Christian than the tone of these classical 
 declamations, albeit the words of Socrates, 
 when he said, speaking of his own death, 
 aTrsifxi Ss, is soiks mfj^spov # ; the encourage- 
 ment of Leonidas to his Spartan heroes at 
 Thermopylae < ( hodie apud inferos fortasse 
 cenabimus f^%&r that glorious tribute to 
 the defender <ft his country, 
 
 TeQvrjicev, ovwep roig veoig Qviigkuv koXov \> 
 
 or that interpretation of the dream recorded 
 by Aristotle, which Cicero so beautifully 
 relates, " ut, cum animus Eudemi e cor- 
 pore excesserit, turn domum revertisse vi- 
 deatur§," (to produce no other of the many 
 similar examples from the classic writings,) 
 
 * Plato PhaRd. 
 
 f Cicero produces the instance, Tuscul. I. 43. 
 \ JEschyl. Sept. Cont. Thcb. 1013, 
 § De Divin. I. 25. 
 
522 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 might stimulate the mere follower of hea- 
 then philosophy to assume a higher and 
 more encouraging ground. Our youth 
 should be accustomed to hear, not that 
 death is the most terrible of all terrible 
 things, (pof ega/Tarov Se 6 Qamros # , but that 
 it is often an indication of the mercy and 
 love of God. Even the heathens used to 
 say, ov 01 9eoi (piXuciv dmoQvnaKzi veoj The 
 eloquence of religious men should not be 
 expended in reminding them that they are 
 soon to lie 
 
 — Withering in the grave ! 
 
 Never, O ! never more to see the sun ! 
 
 Still dark, in a damp vault, and still alone J ! 
 
 but rather in enlivening their imagination 
 with cheerful and splendid images, such as 
 belong to heroism and glory, to innocence 
 and peace,— the blue expanse of heaven, 
 the spring of everlasting youth, fulness of 
 joy, eternal sun-shine. The sage of Greece 
 
 * Aristot. Ethics. III. 6. of the abuse of which I 
 complain. 
 
 f See also the stories of Cleobis and Biton, of Tro- 
 phonius and Agamedes, in Cicero, Tuscul. I. 48. 
 
 J Sec the same complaint, and the sublime reasoning 
 of Socrates against it, in the Axiochus of Plato. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 623 
 
 was transported with the assurance of be- 
 holding Homer and Hesiod, Palamedes 
 and Ajax, syco pcev yag, he said before his 
 judges, woXkaxiS edeXco rsOvavoci, it rocvrcx, e<mv 
 akr&n. And certainly it were hard for the 
 mind of man to conceive a more glorious 
 prospect than that of being admitted into 
 the company of those kings and heroes 
 who, in successive ages of the world, have 
 furthered the happiness, and exalted the 
 dignity of the human race. We should be 
 taught to regard death not as the sad issue 
 of protracted suffering, the lot of whatever 
 is helpless and timid, and infirm, but as a 
 service of danger, to which the young and 
 the daring, and all who would win worship, 
 are first exposed. In meeting this enemy 
 we should not feel like slaves and hirelings, 
 like the dvayxcuoi frfcXejUifrltti of Homer, but 
 as the willing soldiers of Christ, our cap- 
 tain and our king, performing a duty in- 
 cumbent upon the most generous, the most 
 faithful, and the most heroic of men. These 
 views of death are not so often the result 
 of application to letters and philosophy, as 
 
524 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 of an active life, spent in the occasional 
 sacrifice of personal ease, and in the con- 
 stant exercise of generosity and spirit. 
 But further, ff to be just, is better far than 
 to be wise # ," therefore these habits and cir- 
 cumstances of life, which have a tendency 
 to expand the heart and to correct the tem- 
 per, are preferable to the most favourable 
 opportunity for the attainment of literary 
 fame. The " glorious name of wise" wa$ 
 proposed by Ulysses, as the prize which 
 was to stimulate his companion to a deed 
 of treachery : 
 
 (TO(j)OQ r av avroQ KayaOog Ke/cX^' ajxa. 
 
 The reply was what the tempter desired. 
 
 Nothing can be finer than the contrast 
 between the prudent Ulysses and the ge- 
 nerous Neoptolemus + " I know thy noble 
 nature abhors the thought of treachery or 
 fraud ; but how sweet is victory ! There- 
 fore be bold." 
 
 * Let the reader refer to Electra Eurip. 50. 
 f Sophocles, Philoctet. 80. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 525 
 
 SiKatoi <P dvBig eK(}>avov[jLe9a 
 
 vvv d' kig dvaidtg iffxtpag fiepog flpctxv 
 dog fioi aeavTov, Kolra tov Xoittov %poj/ov 
 
 KtK\ri<TO 7TaVT(OV kvGttlGTCLTOg fipOTWV. 
 
 So spake the man of craft and learning. 
 
 J&idv&g wavToiag re doXag kcli firjdsa ttvkvcl* 
 
 How different is the sentiment of honour ! 
 
 eyio fiev ovg av tcjv Xoyo)V dXyto kXvuv, 
 Aaepriov wai, rovads kcli irpaaGtiv GTvyio. 
 tyvv yap ovdtv sk tsxvVQ izpaaauv KaKrjg t 
 ovt dvTog, 6vQ' 9 <Sg (paoiv, ovk Qvffag kfie, 
 dXX* eifL sroifiog rrpog fiiav tov avdp' ayetv, 
 km fit) doXoiaiv. 
 
 The lines which follow, may be the cry 
 of every gentleman at this day. They de- 
 serve to be written in letters of gold, and 
 to be graven on the tablets of the heart. 
 
 fiovXofiat 6' dva%, KtxXtog 
 
 Sptov eZctfiaprtiv fiaXXov, r\ vikoiv KciKiog. 
 
 (t O king, believe me 
 
 Rather much would I fall by virtue, 
 Than rise by guilt to certain victory." 
 
 It was the advice of Minerva to Telema- 
 ehus, that he should consider — 
 
 "Owirug Kev \ivr\GTr\pag evi ixeyapoi(Ti teohti 
 Kreivyg, ye £o\w, ?) dfupadov 
 
526 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 Wisdom permitted a question which ho- 
 nour would have scorned ; and is it not 
 worthy of remark, that her next words are 
 to desire him to forsake the ways of his 
 youth ? 
 
 i {,£ f ti ff g 
 
 "Nrjiriaag 6%66tv, ewei 6vk en rrjXucog etrfft. 
 
 What is literary fame or the glory of 
 transcendant genius, if compared with the 
 exercise of those moral qualities which cor- 
 rect and dignify our nature ? 
 
 Non haec humanis opibus, non arte magistra, 
 
 Proveniunt. 
 
 Major agit Deus, atque opera ad majora remittit. 
 
 tl Si nostre ame n'en vaun meilleur bransle," 
 says Montagne, " si nous n'en avons le 
 jugement plus sain, j'aymeroy aussi cher 
 que mon escolier eust passe le temps a jouer 
 a la paume, au moins le cors en seroit plus 
 alegre." Morganore was a clerke, learned 
 and cunning in divers tongues, but how 
 much to be preferred was the character of 
 his unpretending brother, " the most gentle 
 squire, that ever served a baron bold, with 
 light and merry heart, the most generous 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 527 
 
 youth that ever spurred a steed, or bled for 
 ladies love." Certes I can say with Mon- 
 tagne, " Je m'aymeroy mieux bon escuyer 
 que bon logicien." 
 
 — — Non alius flectere equum sciens 
 JEque conspicitur graminc Martio, 
 
 Nec quisquam citus aeque 
 
 Tusco denatat alveo. 
 
 We are told of a certain man of science, 
 that " his moral character was as correct 
 as his mathematical investigations *j* But 
 how different is the language of Scripture, 
 in proposing an example for our imitation ? 
 " Blessed is the man whose unrighteous- 
 ness is forgiven : and in whose spirit there 
 is no guile." How different is the portrait 
 of that character, which satisfies the judg- 
 ment, and interests the heart ! 
 
 Heu pietas, heu prisca fides, invictaque bello 
 Dextera ! 
 
 " It were harde for ony tonge to telle the 
 doleful complayntes that he made for his 
 
 * This curious expression will be found in the life of 
 M. Coulomb, contained in the 3d Suppl. Vol. of the 
 En cyclop. Britt. 
 
528 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 broder," says the author of a famous his- 
 tory, ff A syr Launcelot, he sayd, thou 
 were head of all crysten knyghtes, and 
 now I dare saye thou syr Launcelot ther 
 thou lyest that thou were never matched of 
 none erthly knyghtes handes. And thou 
 were the curtoyste knyghte that ever bare 
 shelde. And thou were the truest frend 
 to thy lover that ever bestradde hors, and 
 thou were the truest lover of a synnfull 
 man that ever loved woman. And thou 
 were the kyndest man that ever stroke with 
 sworde. And thou were the goodelyest 
 persone that ever came among prees of 
 knyghtes. And thou were the mekest man 
 and the gentyllest that ever ete in halle 
 among ladyes. And thou were the sternest 
 knyghte to thy mortall foo that ever put 
 spere in the reyst." Again, what an affect- 
 ing portrait of the knightly character is 
 given in the last book of the Jerusalem de- 
 livered, where Edward hastens to the ex- 
 piring Gildippe, whose gentle bosom had 
 been pierced by the Soldan's spear ? 
 
 Her lord to helpe her came, but came too late, 
 Yet was not that his fault, it was his fate. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 529 
 
 What should he do ? to divers parts him call 
 Just ire and pittie kinde, one bids him goe, 
 And succour his dear ladie, like to fall * 
 The other cals for vengeance on his foe. 
 Love biddeth both, love saies he must doe all, 
 And with his ire, joines griefe ; with pittie, woe. 
 What did he then ? with his left hand the knight 
 Would hold her up, revenge her with his right. 
 
 But to resist a knight so bold 
 Too weake his will and powre divided, were j 
 So that he could not his faire love uphold, 
 Nor kill the cruell man that slew his deare. 
 His arme, that did his mistris kind enfold, 
 The Turke cut off, pale grew his lookes and cheare, 
 He let her fall, himselfe fell by her side, 
 And for he could not save her, with her dide. 
 
 Again, if there be a bond of fraternal union 
 between the brave and generous of every 
 age and country, what Christian knight 
 will refuse to shed a tear when he is told 
 of the youths who fought before the towers 
 of Thebes, and who died for their king? 
 History or romance present few scenes so 
 affecting as that described by the most 
 tragic of all poets # , where the dead bodies 
 of these warriors are exposed to view, while 
 
 # 6 EvpiTTidrjQ, TpayiKCJTaroQ ye tcjv iroiriTw. 
 
 Aristot. Poet. xxvi. 
 
 A a 
 
530 THE BROAD ST>ONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Adrastus relates to Theseus the virtue and 
 the fame of each. 
 
 opag, to Siov ov BeXog di87TT<xro ; 
 
 Are the words with which he commences 
 his simple tale. <e This is the body of Ca- 
 paneus, who had large possessions, and 
 yet in all his prosperity he was meek and 
 mild, as a man of humble fortune # ; he 
 scorned those who took pleasure in luxu- 
 rious living, and who disdained frugal fare, 
 for he used to say that it were hard to 
 maintain virtue while the belly was pam- 
 pered, and that men should learn modera- 
 tion. Present or absent, to his lovers he 
 was the truest friend ; simple and undis- 
 guised in his nature, courteous and gentle 
 in his speech, faithful to his word, whether 
 given to slaves or to equals f. This second 
 
 * Friendship must have blinded the judgment of 
 Adrastus, if we are to credit the other accounts of 
 Capaneus. Eurip. Suppl. 498. Phoeniss. 1175. iEschyl. 
 Sept. cont. Theb. 421. 
 
 f (piXoig t aXrjOrjg fjv (piXog 7rctpov(Ti re 
 Kai firj irapovcnv wv apiQfiog ov woXvg. 
 aijsevdeg ?}0o£, ev7rpo(rriyopov crro^a, 
 cLKpavrov ovdev 6v5' eg oiiurag tx wv > 
 ovt eg TToXirag. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 531 
 
 is Eteoclus, another man who cherished 
 virtue, Young he was, and poor indeed in 
 fortune, but many honours had he in the 
 Argive land. The gifts which were often 
 presented by his friends, he received not 
 into his house, lest, conquered by gold, he 
 should contract the manners of a slave. 
 The third of these is Hippomedon, who, 
 from childhood, had despised the pleasure 
 of the muses, and the delicacy of luxurious 
 life. Dwelling in the country, inured to 
 labours and to hardship, ever engaged in 
 hunting or on horseback, or with the bow, 
 for it was his desire to possess a hardy 
 frame, that might do good service to his 
 country *. Here is Parthenopseus, the son 
 of Atalanta, a boy of the goodliest form, an 
 Arcadian by birth, though brought up at 
 Argos, where he was ever gentle and kind 
 
 * 6 d' av rpirog rtSvd' t l7nrofji£d(i)v rowed' t<pv 
 iraig ojv IroXfirjg' evOvg ov npog r/dovag 
 Movauv TQairevQai, ttqoq to fiaXBcucov Biov, 
 \ oypovg Se vomov, GicXrjpa ry (pvcei didovg 
 £% at P £ irpog rdvdpeiov, eg t aypag l(ov 
 iinroig re %atpwi/ ro£a r evreivwv x*P 0LV * 
 ttoXsi wapaffxtiv fftofia xprjeifiov QeXwv. — 
 
 a a 2 
 
.532 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 to all ; regarded as a native and fellow 
 countryman, he was admitted into the mar- 
 tial rank, a defender of the land : he re- 
 joiced in its prosperity, and he mourned 
 when it was unfortunate : the idol of the 
 gentler sex, he was the most careful to 
 avoid crime of all that ever loved woman. 
 Few words will express the mighty praise 
 of Tydeus : a cunning sophist was he not 
 in tongue, but in arms, and in the strata- 
 gems of war # . Though in other knowledge 
 inferior to his brother Meleager, yet did 
 he acquire an equal share of military re- 
 nown. The clash of arms was music to 
 his soulf, the vigour of his mind was his 
 richest treasure, and not in words, but in 
 deeds, was he glorious. O Theseus, after 
 hearing what you now have learned, won- 
 der not that these men dared to die before 
 the towers of Thebes J." 
 
 * iroXXovg S' epacrrag, kcltto OrjXeuov oaag, 
 tpv, etypovpei [irjdev e^afiapravtiv* 
 Tvdeojg d' eizaivov ev Bpax*i Orjcroj fieyav. 
 ovk ev Xoyoig rjv XafjL7rpog, dXX' ev d<Hridi 
 Seivog (TO(pKTTrjg f iroXXa r e^evpeiv <ro0a. 
 
 f evpwv dtzpitr} fiovvucriv ev aairidc 
 
 \ Eurip. Supplices. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 533 
 
 It is by calling your attention to such 
 passages, however familiar to the critical 
 student of antiquity, that I can best dis- 
 charge the duties of my ministerial office ; 
 for these are the appointed sources to 
 kindle and to keep alive within the bosom 
 of the brave, those particles of heavenly 
 flame, which form the man of mighty soul. 
 " Errare, mehercule malo cum Platone," 
 cried Cicero, in a strain of sublime exul- 
 tation, " quam cum istis vera sentire." 
 Certainly when I compare the simple cha- 
 racter of our unlettered, and upon many 
 subjects, ignorant ancestors, with the qua- 
 lities which so often distinguish those of 
 their descendants, who ridicule and con- 
 demn the principles and qualities of chi- 
 valry ; when I think upon the pomp and af- 
 fectation of learning, the insolence of flat- 
 tered talents, the veil of refinement which 
 is thrown over dishonourable thoughts and 
 base passions, that devotion of mind to 
 intellectual pursuits which removes men 
 from the softening intercourse of domestic 
 life, the remorseless selfishness unsubdued 
 by the habit of yielding to the wish of 
 A a 3 
 
534 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 others, the calculating and compromising 
 prudence which looks to nothing but plea- 
 sure and profit, and immediate personal 
 interest, while it boasts of a foundation 
 in the principles of an enlightened philo- 
 sophy ; the harshness of that disposition 
 which, proud of intellectual ability, is in- 
 sensible to every genial glow of tenderness, 
 insensible to the need of continual prayer 
 for the preventing grace of God, insensible 
 to the value of meekness, piety, and love ; 
 that principle, the curse of modern times, 
 which leads men to idolize the reason and 
 understanding, and to neglect and even 
 despise the virtues of the heart ; the cold 
 indifference to the religion of the blessed 
 Jesus, if not the avowed rejection of his 
 law ; that temper which chills all warmth 
 of heavenly-mindedness in the possessor, 
 and which renders him the enemy of all 
 display of heavenly-mindedness in others ; 
 in a word, the disposition and the princi- 
 ples which have been substituted for those 
 of chivalry, for all those generous thoughts 
 and holy feelings, which bound men to 
 their religion and to their country, which 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 535 
 
 preserved them faithful in allegiance to their 
 God, and devoted in the discharge of their 
 relative duties ; when such a contrast pre- 
 sents itself, I am tempted to adopt a simi- 
 lar expression, and to say, that if the culti- 
 vation of the intellectual faculties is to be 
 followed by the developement of the quali- 
 ties which I now behold in men of know- 
 ledge and practised ingenuity, I, for one, 
 had rather err with such men as Sir Laun- 
 celot and Huon, as Bayard and de Foix, 
 destitute of human wisdom, unacquainted 
 with the discoveries of science, knowing 
 nothing of the historians or the philoso- 
 phers or the moralists of any age, and yet 
 taught by God's word in all essential truth, 
 for so these men unquestionably were, and 
 in other respects, as we readily acknow- 
 ledge, the children of untutored nature, 
 accomplishing what the wise and learned 
 are so often unwilling or unable to perform, 
 deeds of generosity and heroism in the ser- 
 vice of God, and to the honour of women. 
 I, for one, had rather err with such men, 
 had rather be convicted of all their igno- 
 rance, and what seems to some their absur- 
 a a 4 
 
536 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 dity and their folly, than be crowned with 
 the highest success in the pursuit of that 
 learning and philosophy, which, after all, 
 leaves the individual worse in every essen- 
 tial respect than nature made him, a bad 
 Christian, and a bad man, false to his reli- 
 gion, false to those principles of honour, and 
 destitute of those affections of the heart 
 which give security, dignity, and happiness 
 to the human race. 
 
 olfxoi, KaKovpyovQ avdpag ojg dei (TTvyio, 
 ol (TWTiOsvreg TadiK, elra fiTjxavaig 
 
 KOfffXOVCTl * ! 
 
 Who that has had intercourse with men of 
 letters, and of extraordinary powers of rea- 
 son, and has never given utterance to the 
 same sentiment ! Again I say, that the 
 ignorance of our chivalrous ancestors is 
 better than such learning, than such ability. 
 
 (pavXov %p??(Xrov av Xateiv Qikov 
 QeXoifii fiaXKov, ij kclkov crocpiOTtpov. 
 
 In the description of Sir Launcelot's 
 character, we have read that he was the 
 
 * Eurip. Ion. 831. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 537 
 
 sternest knight to his mortal foe that ever 
 put spear in the rest, as Froissart describes 
 Gascone de Foix, who " in every thyng was 
 so parfite, that he cannot be praised to 
 moche ; he loved that ought to be beloved, 
 and hated that ought to be hated/' adding 
 a testimony to his practice, that " he never 
 had myscreant with hym." Now let us 
 again pause and consider calmly, what was 
 in fact the ignorance of which we accuse 
 the ancient barons and knights of Europe. 
 It is conceded that they were destitute of 
 those acquirements which now constitute 
 men of learning and general knowledge, 
 but does it follow from this, that they never 
 attained the great end of all learning and 
 of all instruction ? Surely I think that the 
 preceding examples will dictate a very dif- 
 ferent conclusion. When Agesilaus desired 
 that children should be educated at Sparta, 
 it was not that they might be better in- 
 structed in rhetoric or dialectics, but in 
 the first and best of sciences, that which 
 should teach them how to obey and how 
 to command. The knights and barons of 
 Europe were unlettered and ignorant ? Be 
 a a 5 
 
538 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 it so. But were they less true, less faith- 
 ful, less generous, less meek and humble, 
 less lofty in spirit, less devoted to religion 
 and virtue than their posterity, or than their 
 posterity would be, if placed with their 
 learning in the age and circumstances of 
 their ancestors ? Before consideration, the 
 following observation of Montagne, will no 
 doubt be read with astonishment. " Qui 
 contera les hommes par leurs actions et 
 deportemens il s'en trouvera plus grand 
 nombre d'excellens, entre les ignorans qu'- 
 entre les s§avans ; Jedy en toute sorte de 
 vertu," and he adds, " la peste de l'homme 
 c'est Fopinion de science." The truth is, 
 that it is an absurdity to expect men will 
 become virtuous in proportion as they ac- 
 quire mere knowledge, because the advan- 
 tage which is to result from knowledge, 
 must always depend upon the character of 
 the mind which receives it. It will be the 
 ornament, and the excellence, and the reli- 
 gion of one man, when, from the very lot 
 and condition of our nature, it will be the 
 dishonour, the malice, and the impiety of 
 an hundred, u en telle main c'est un seep- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 539 
 
 tre ; en telle autre c'estune marotte." Take 
 that numerous class of men in this country, 
 whose minds are formed, and to a certain 
 degree furnished with knowledge by the 
 newspapers and by communication with men 
 of reading, and compare them with people 
 of their condition in countries where this 
 knowledge is not attainable, and it is quite 
 certain that the moralist will decide in fa- 
 vour of the latter ; he will find them to be 
 superior, as Montague says, " in every kind 
 of virtue." It is easy for gentlemen and 
 good men, to declaim on the excellence of 
 knowledge, but they should observe and 
 reflect to what a vast multitude of their 
 species it will be a source of vice and ruin. 
 They should reflect, that neither by the or- 
 dinary course of nature nor by the scheme 
 of revelation, are virtue and grace depend- 
 ing upon its acquirement. Let the reader 
 turn to the xxvth chapter of Montagne's 
 Essays, where he treats of pedantry # ; let 
 
 * Every hour of reflection and observation convinc- 
 ing me more fully, of the importance of the truth which 
 I have endeavoured to explain in this place ; I beg leave 
 to refer my reader to the opinion of the following emi- 
 A a 6 
 
540 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 him read it twice over, as our ancestors, 
 who read from a desire of wisdom, and not 
 
 nent men, which may place it in a clearer point of 
 view. The fourth Letter of Leibnitz to Mr. Thomas 
 Burnet, torn. vi. Charron la Sagesse, lib. iii. cap. 14. 
 Mr. Burke's Letter to the Duke of Bedford. The 
 Convivium of Lucian, after the description of the phi- 
 losopher's revel. The De Legibus of Plato, vii. Se- 
 neca Epist. Ixxxviii. Cicero Acad. I. 4. Lord Bacon's 
 Advancement of Learning, where he treats of the pro- 
 per bounds of human knowledge, and of the danger 
 from mistaking or misplacing the last or farthest end 
 of knowledge. And, above all, the observations of 
 Malebranche, in the prefaoe to his u Recherche de la 
 Verite." I am convinced, that the perusal of these 
 passages will prove of general utility, while they will 
 serve to remove, or at least to diminish, a ground of 
 objection, which is generally adopted against the ha- 
 bits and character of chivalry. At all events, however, 
 experience will conduct us to the same truth, and will 
 assuredly convince us in the end, that science and 
 learning without religion, or the feelings which result 
 from the education of a gentleman, are rather an in- 
 jury than a benefit to the individual who possesses 
 them. " Toute autre science est dommageable a 
 celui qui n'a la science de bonte." " En mon pays et 
 de mon temps," says Montagne, " la doctrine amende 
 assez lcs bourses, rarement les ames." It is in vain 
 that men of this description take pride in their ac- 
 quirements. They may be scholars and mathemati- 
 cians, and men of general research, but they are still 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 54! 
 
 from vanity, would assuredly have deigned 
 to do, and when he has applied these pro- 
 found observations, then let him say ho- 
 nestly whether he believes the learning of 
 the moderns, as far as the vulgar, that is 
 the great body of mankind, is concerned, 
 to be worth more than the ignorance (if we 
 must still so term it) of the ancient knights. 
 Can it be necessary to proclaim that the 
 lovers of chivalry in this or in any age, are 
 far from wishing to undervalue wisdom and 
 true learning ? Surely they are not ob- 
 noxious to such an accusation, from ex- 
 pressing their contempt for words without 
 ideas ; a mere memory of facts without the 
 wisdom of experience, opinions without un- 
 derstanding, authority without individual 
 judgment, learning, in fine, without supe- 
 rior piety, or justice, or goodness, without 
 a higher reverence of God, or a warmer re- 
 
 the vulgar ; and from their company, highly as they 
 may themselves esteem it, no true philosopher or man 
 of virtue, no gentleman, a character beyond all com- 
 parison superior to theirs, even in an intellectual sense, 
 if we admit the reasoning of Malebrauche, can derive 
 either the delights of society or the lessons of wisdom, 
 that is, either pleasure or profit. 
 
542 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 gard for man? We have alluded to the 
 hatred which knights were expected and 
 enjoined to entertain, according to the 
 maxim in Spenser, who says of Bragga- 
 chia # — 
 
 Nought car'd he for friend or enemy, 
 
 For in base mind nor friendship dwells nor enmity." 
 
 It was the rule of chivalry, that if an infidel 
 were to impugn the doctrines of the Chris- 
 tian faith before a Churchman, he should 
 reply to him by argument; but a knight 
 should render no other reason to the infidel, 
 than six inches of his falchion thrust into 
 his bowels. The accomplished writer + of a 
 late very ingenious and interesting memoir 
 upon chivalry, has remarked upon this pas- 
 sage, that " even courtesy and the respect 
 due to ladies of high degree, gave way when 
 they chanced to be infidels. The renowned 
 Sir Bevis, of Hamptoun, being invited by 
 the fair Princess Josiane, to come to her 
 bower, replies to the paynims, who brought 
 the message, 
 
 * Book III. Cant. iv. 
 
 f Encyclop. Britt. Suppl. Vol. III. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 543 
 
 " I will ne gou one foot on ground 
 For to spekc with an heathen hound, 
 Unchristen houndes, I rede ye flee, 
 Or I your hearte's blood will see." 
 
 This intemperate zeal for religion, the 
 knights were expected to maintain at every 
 risk, however imminent. Like the early 
 Christians, they were prohibited from ac- 
 quiescing even by silence, in the rites of 
 idolatry. In the fine romance of Huon, of 
 Bourdeaux, that champion is represented 
 as having failed in duty to God and his 
 faith, because he had professed himself a 
 Saracen for the temporary purpose of ob- 
 taining entrance into the palace of the 
 Amial Gaudifer. " And when Sir Huon 
 passed the third gate, he remembered him 
 of the lie # he had spoken to obtain entrance 
 into the first. Alas ! said the knight, what 
 but destruction can betide one who has so 
 foully falsified and denied his faith towards 
 Him who has done so much for me !" It is 
 easy to point out the danger resulting from 
 the abuse of these chivalrous principles. It 
 is easy to declaim upon the savage inhuma- 
 
 * Mark the expression, 
 genuity. 
 
 Now a days it would be in 
 
544 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 nity of such intolerant zeal, and upon the in- 
 consistency of cherishing hatred with the 
 religion of the Gospel. All this to a certain 
 degree is known and acknowledged. But 
 still it maybe allowable to suggest, that the 
 striking passages which are generally se- 
 lected to illustrate the zeal of chivalrous 
 devotion, may exhibit instances of its dege- 
 neracy, and not of its essential character. 
 Surely, at all events, the Christian may be 
 permitted to ask of these railers at supersti- 
 tion # and intolerant zeal, what would have 
 been the fate of Europe, if Charles Martel, 
 and the gentlemen of his age, had been ac- 
 tuated by that easy indifference to the re- 
 ligious interests of mankind, and to the 
 triumph of the Cross, which is so often 
 professed and eulogised by men of false 
 philosophy and learning, under the name 
 of toleration and liberality ? When it is 
 remembered, that the arms of the Saracens 
 were, for a certain period, successful upon 
 every side ; that the infidels had at one time 
 
 * t( On ne cesse de parler de la. grossierete de nos 
 aieux : il n'y a rien de si grossicr que la philosophic de 
 notre sieclc ; le bon sens du douzieme s'en seroit juste- 
 ment moque." — De Maistre, Soirees de St.Petersbourg^ 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 515 
 
 nearly possessed themselves of Aquitain, 
 certainly it will be difficult for a Christian 
 to condemn that zeal which prevented the 
 Crescent from dispossessing the Cross of 
 the fairest portion of Europe ; and with re- 
 spect to the present situation and interests 
 of mankind, may he not reasonably institute 
 a comparison in favour of that zeal, between 
 the extravagance of the Crusaders, and the 
 conduct of those men of learning at the 
 present day, who come forward to counte- 
 nance and protect from the just vengeance 
 of outraged laws, the miscreant who insults 
 the adorable name and religion of the Sa- 
 viour ; and who, with cowardly cunning, 
 has examined how far he can do it with im- 
 punity ? May he not reasonably suggest, 
 to all who acknowledge the truth of reve- 
 lation, that zeal, even without knowledge, 
 is better than indifference, with whatever 
 accomplishments it may be accompanied — 
 better than that practical renunciation of 
 the Gospel, commencing with a contemp- 
 tuous neglect of its injunctions, and con- 
 cluding in avowed apostasy, which so fre- 
 quently throws a shade of gloom and de- 
 
546 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 spair over the evening of a literary life ? It 
 is indeed a common opinion, that know- 
 ledge is the mother of virtue ; and that all 
 vices arise from ignorance. " Mais si cela 
 est vray," says Montagne, " il est sujet a 
 une longue interpretation # ." Highly as 
 every lover of mankind must admire the phi- 
 losophic reflections of the amiable writer, 
 to whose memoir we have lately referred, 
 deeply as he will lament that fatal result 
 consequent upon all human institutions 
 which perverted into intolerance and super- 
 stition, the effects of a theory, than which 
 even its enemies have acknowledged, " no- 
 thing could be more beautiful or praise- 
 worthy still must it be the conviction of 
 his understanding, and the feeling of his 
 heart, that the degree of superstition, which 
 is ever likely to be found in England, is 
 less awful than the indifference to revealed 
 truth, which may be observed so often in 
 general society ; still is it unquestionably 
 certain, that the enthusiasm of chivalry, in 
 loving a name at which '* every knee should 
 
 * Essais. Lib. II. Chap. xii. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 547 
 
 bow ;" and a cause, for the service of which 
 every heart should beat, while it may ex- 
 cite alarm and regret to the friends of virtue 
 and Christianity, must, at the same time, 
 be regarded with admiration, and even with 
 reverence. There is something in it noble 
 and dignified — something which indicates 
 the presence of those high and generous 
 feelings, which are the proud prerogative 
 of the human soul ; whereas, on the con- 
 trary, apathy and indifference upon such a 
 subject, the abuse of that Name, the aban- 
 donment or neglect of that cause must not 
 only be deprecated as fatal in consequence, 
 but must be despised as base, unmanly, 
 and ungenerous in origin ; it is human na- 
 ture to sin, but it is something below human 
 nature to treat the name and religion of the 
 Saviour with indifference and ingratitude. 
 
 The conclusion will still be unshaken ; 
 that it is safer and more virtuous, that it is 
 more becoming gentlemen, and men of ho- 
 nour, to err upon the side of zeal, than that 
 of apathy. Perish the name of that false 
 philosophy, which first taught men to think 
 
548 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 otherwise ! That it is less injurious to the 
 best interests of individuals, and therefore 
 less hostile to the general happiness of 
 mankind. 
 
 But indolence is to be your privilege un- 
 der no circumstances. " In ccelo quies," 
 is the proud motto of an English noble- 
 man # , and it should be the directing sen- 
 timent of your heart. 
 
 Ov xpV irawxioi evdtiv j3s\rj(j)opov avdpa, 
 
 was the lesson to a king. If you are not to 
 acquire the literary accomplishments of the 
 scholar, you are bound to engage in the 
 more active pursuits that may benefit your 
 
 * Boscawen, Viscount Falmouth. " Action and la- 
 bours were the pride of chivalry." 
 
 " Virtus in actione consistit," is the motto of the 
 noble family of Craven, 
 
 " Labor ipse voluptas," of King, barons of Oak- 
 ham. But the motto of the house of Lindsay brings 
 us back to the very time when the gallant knights 
 spent the night on horseback, or lay on the ground 
 with the sky and the stars for their canopy: — 
 
 " Astra, Castra, numen lumen." 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 519 
 
 country # ; and besides this, you must cul- 
 tivate those habits of bodily exertion 
 
 veaviav irovov 
 
 which can develope and exercise the other 
 powers with which nature has entrusted 
 you. Effeminate delicacy and the love of 
 luxurious ease, may be consistent with per- 
 sons of base profession, whose only spirit 
 is in insolence, but with the temper and the 
 courtesy of a gentleman, they are incom- 
 patible. It is an admirable sentiment which 
 Xenophon attributes to Agesilaus, and one 
 that should animate every man who has a 
 right to bear arms, wyeiro a§% 0VTi wpocmxeiv, 
 ou (JLotXaxigc, dXKoc Kocqrepigc rcov 1<$icutcov Trepiswoci. 
 Ta$e (jlsvtoi TrXeovsKTcov ovk ^ay^vvero, ev /xev ra) 
 Sspsi, rov Y)kiou, Iv Ss rev ysi^mi, rou tyvypus 
 Men, like Horace, of an Epicurean turn of 
 mind, will naturally maintain the wisdom 
 of indulgence, excepting upon what they 
 term cases of necessity. To them, for in- 
 stance, nothing seems more ridiculous than 
 
 * Let the reader remember the address of Xenophon 
 to the officers of the Grecian army. — Anab. III. 2. 
 f Agesil. 5. 
 
550 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 the advice given by Thompson, in these 
 lines — 
 
 " Nor, when cold winter keens the brightening flood 
 Would I, weak-shivering linger on the brink." 
 
 To be convicted of swimming daily three 
 times across the Tiber, in winter, is suffi- 
 cient ground in their estimation, to send 
 any man to Anticyra : yet the pleasure and 
 the advantage resulting from such habits 
 do not merely exist in the Poet's imagina- 
 tion, as many, I doubt not, who read these 
 pages, know from experience. For my part, 
 being from my childhood, like Cicero's 
 friend Trebatius, " studiosissimus homo 
 natandi," I am ready to seize any occasion 
 to recommend a practice which has been to 
 me, and to many whom I have known, a 
 source of health and much enjoyment. It 
 was a precept of the Greeks : — 
 
 7Tf ipw to fiev (T0)fia kivai (pikoirovoq, 
 rrjv Se ipvxrjv <pCKoGo<poQ» 
 
 What an admirable instance was that of 
 manly virtue, when Alexander, in passing 
 the Gadrosian desert, poured the water 
 upon the ground which his fainting soldiers 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 551 
 
 had carried to him in a helmet ; and of what 
 importance to the common cause was this 
 act of generous self-denial, since as Arrian 
 relates, the army was so encouraged, 3* ts 
 UKxaoci oiv rivz Trorov ysvsff&at Ticcav exsivo to SSo;§ 
 to wpos 9 A\e£av<fy)8 Ik%v%zv. The Romans 
 had a proverb to express their contempt for 
 persons who were neither scholars, nor 
 skilled in bodily accomplishments :— 
 
 " Neque natare, neque literas novit." 
 
 Nor was it mere caprice that dictated 
 this alternative, since, as the poet has well 
 remarked, 
 
 << The same Roman arm 
 
 That rose victorious o'er the conquered earth, 
 First learn'd, while tender, to subdue the wave." 
 
 How admirable, how true is the sentence 
 with which he concludes his picture of 
 " the purest exercise of health ! v 
 
 " Even, from the body's purity, the mind 
 Receives a secret sympathetic aid." 
 
 I would lay it down, as an essential rule, 
 that a gentleman should excel in bodily 
 
552 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 accomplishments. I do not say in the or- 
 dinary sports of the field, for these may 
 be pursued by an effeminate and plebeian 
 crowd, who can neither swim nor ride, nor 
 walk as gallant men ; but that he should 
 be able to avail himself of every advantage 
 which nature has attached to the manly and 
 dexterous employment of his bodily powers. 
 How admirable is that description in the 
 Andria : 
 
 " Quod plerique omnes faciunt adolescentuli 
 Ut animum ad aliquod studium adjungant aut equos 
 Alere, aut canes ad venandum ; aut ad philosophos 
 Horum ille nihil egregie praeter caetera, 
 Studebat ; et tamen omnia haec mediocriter 
 G an deb am." 
 
 The Scripture has pronounced that the 
 pride of a young man is his strength, and 
 we must remember those lines of Homer ; 
 
 Ov fjiev yap jieiZov k\soq dvepog, 6(ppa kev yaiv 
 
 'H OTl 7T0Cr<TlV TS jOf^ft KCLl X^**™ tyVW *• 
 
 This, without doubt, is the sentiment of 
 nature ; a little reflection will convince us 
 that it is just. 
 
 * Odyss. 1. viii. 147. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 553 
 
 Cernis ut ignavum corrumpant otia corpus, 
 Ut capiant vitium, ni moveantur aequas *. 
 
 Our frame requires an occasional relax- 
 ation ; and even the mind may be injured 
 by the total abandonment of youthful and 
 laborious amusement : Soxst Ss, says Aris- 
 totle *f, ri dvc&Trocuais nai ?) ttcci^icc ev rcu fiico iivat 
 dvocyycociov. Theophrastus, we are told, wrote 
 among his innumerable treatises, one Trsgt 
 l<*qcoTos ; and while the philosopher in his 
 study was vainly contemplating the pheno- 
 mena, the thoughtless lover of the Stadium, 
 " multa tulitfecitque puer ; sudavit et alsit," 
 was accomplishing the design and profit- 
 ing by the provision of nature. Certain 
 it is that exercise of the body will prepare 
 the mind for future and more valuable la- 
 bour : and while nature has imposed upon 
 us this necessity, she has beneficently, and 
 with the most admirable uniformity, im- 
 parted that propensity in the hearts of the 
 young, which carries them, with an almost 
 irresistible ardour, to adopt the remedy 
 
 * Ovid Epist. ex Pont, h v. 
 f Ethics. IV. 8. 
 
 Bb 
 
554 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 which their subsequent judgment will re- 
 commend and dictate. 
 
 Gaudet equis, canibusque, et aprici gramine campi. 
 
 Montagne objects to the education of 
 children by their parents, because, he says, 
 these latter are unwilling to see their son 
 " nourry grossierement comme il faut et 
 sans delicatesse," and he adds in conclu- 
 sion, " car il n'y a remede, qui en veut faire 
 un homme de bien, sans doute il le faut 
 hazarder un peu en ceste jeunesse et sou- 
 vent choquer les regies de la medecine." 
 " Study," says a learned Spaniard of the 
 fifteenth century # , " drains the mind and 
 heart." And Lord Clarendon says of the 
 famous Chillingworth, " his only unhap- 
 piness proceeded from his sleeping too little 
 and thinking too much." At the moment 
 of horror excited by the prospect of an 
 eruption from Vesuvius, or amidst the ruins 
 of a city perishing by an earthquake, who 
 
 * Vincent Ferrer. Let the reader consult Sismondi 
 lit. du midi de PEurope, torn. ii. p. 34. for the charac- 
 ter of the great revivers of learning in Italy, during the 
 fifteenth century. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 555 
 
 can endure the studies of Pliny or the cal- 
 culations of a naturalist? It was a fine sen- 
 tence of the Greek tragedian — 
 
 aujxpov, ra [xev (re Qua navr eZeidsvai, 
 ra t bvrcL kcli ra de ducaia eidevai *. 
 
 A reproof, unhappily, which men of letters 
 in every age, have too often deserved f . 
 
 * Eurip. Helena, 923. 
 
 f In the Inferno of Dante, there are the names of 
 persons, contemporaries of the Poet, in the number of 
 those who are punished for their crimes, and who were 
 in reality men of unblemished character. In Canto XV. 
 the name of an innocent individual is thus selected, not 
 that he was thought to be guilty, but because his pro- 
 fession in general seems to have been obnoxious to the 
 charge, and the euphony or quantity of his name suit- 
 ing the verse, he is made to stand for the whole body 
 of which he is a member. St. Thomas a Beeket, a 
 martyr not merely to the rights of the clergy, but to 
 the principles which secured liberty to the English 
 people, murdered by a despot under circumstances 
 which, if impassionately considered, would have recom- 
 mended him to the commiseration of every Christian 
 man, has been misrepresented, and held up to detesta- 
 tion by a succession of fine writers, who, utterly care- 
 less of the authority on which they produced charges,- 
 selected him as an eminent character who might be 
 made to exemplify the pride and tyranny which they 
 thought proper to attribute to every zealous servant 
 
 B b 2 
 
556 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Whereas, the effects of exercise and acti- 
 vity, and even of the violent amusements # 
 of ancient chivalry and of our modern 
 youth, are, I conceive, unquestionable, in 
 warming the heart and in exciting the love 
 of virtue. 
 
 mihi mens juvenili ardebat amore 
 
 Compellare virum et dextrae conjungere dextram. 
 
 of the Church. Our own great dramatist will furnish 
 too many instances of this species of calumny. For the 
 charges so generally admitted upon his authority 
 against Cardinal Beaufort, a man of the most primitive 
 integrity and of the most Christian munificence, there 
 is literally no other foundation but what was raised by 
 the imagination of Shakspeare. Remember that no 
 splendour of genius, can excuse that writer, as a gen- 
 tleman, who, in order to point a sentence, or adorn a 
 poetic image, shall neglect virtues which are essential 
 to every Christian and to every man of generosity and 
 honour. 
 
 * The advice of Xenophon is similar. " 'Eyw jxtv 
 
 OVV TTCtpaivib TOIQ VEOIQ, [If) KCLTCLfyOOVUV KVVf]y£(TL(OV, fJLfjde 
 
 TrjgdXKriQ 7rai£aac/" And after shewing how hunting 
 and all violent sports, may be favourable to the increase 
 of virtue, he adds, " Oi de firj SsXovtsq dia to kwurovov 
 didavKsaSrai, d\\a kv rjdovaigaKaipoig diayeiv, (pvauovroi 
 kclki^oi. Ovts yap vofioig ovts XoyoigdyaSoig 7ra3wrar 
 ov yap tvpiGKOvai, dia to fir] 7roveiv, oiov xpr\ tov dyaSov 
 tivav a>?e ovts SeoGGtttiQ dvvavrai eivai, ovts <ro0oi." De 
 Venatione, c. 1. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 557 
 
 And, let it be remembered, that the great 
 master of philosophy was never disappoint- 
 ed in his hopes when he directed his lessons 
 to the young : sv yap otS' on own av ixbcu, 
 Xsyovro* Ipta axQoaaovrai ol vsoi ouGTrep evS\%Ss *. 
 
 It is a remark of Lord Bacon, " that for 
 the moral part, perhaps, youth will have 
 the pre-eminence, as age hath for the po- 
 litic ; and this has always been the opinion 
 of wise men. When Demosthenes is desi- 
 rous of expressing any great and generous 
 sentiment, he uses the term veavutov (ppovn^a ; 
 and it is the saying of Plautus, when sur- 
 prise is evinced at the benevolence of an 
 old man, u benignitas hujus ut adolescen- 
 tuli est." Nor does this reflect honour only 
 upon the young in years. The principles 
 of chivalry are productive of immortal 
 youth; they constitute the spring and flower 
 of the mind. Age does not affect itf : for 
 
 * Plato Apolog. K£. 
 
 t Upon this principle we may give an instant answer 
 to the despairing question of a modern author :— 
 i( Can we then 'scape from folly free ? 
 Can we reverse the general plan, 
 Nor be what all in turn must be ?" 
 No — if we disdain the lessons of Scripture and philo- 
 
 b b 3 
 
558 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 what Cicero says of Q. Maximus is per- 
 fectly true of every man who preserves this 
 spirit and these sentiments ; " nec senectus 
 mores mutaverat." " Here is the fountain/' 
 says Erasmus, " qui non solum revocat 
 elapsam adolescentiam sed quod optabi- 
 lius, perpetuam servat." 
 
 What transport to resume our boyish plays, 
 Our early bliss, when each thing joy supplied ! 
 The woods, the mountains, and the warbling maze 
 Of the wild brooks !— — 
 
 There is no difference, says the philoso- 
 pher, between youthful age and youthful 
 character ; and what this is cannot be better 
 evinced than in the very words of Aristotle : 
 " The young are ardent in desire, and what 
 they do is from affection : they are tract- 
 able and delicate ; they earnestly desire, 
 and are quickly appeased ; their wishes 
 are intense, without comprehending much, 
 
 sophy, we can not reverse this general plan, but if we 
 learn from the one, to become " as little children," and 
 from the philosophic Erasmus, to praise and adopt 
 folly, that which the world deems folly, we may escape 
 both sin and misery, and be young and happy to the 
 last. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 559 
 
 as the thirst and hunger of the weary : — 
 They are passionate and hasty, and liable 
 to be surprised by anger 3 for being ambi- 
 tious of honour, they cannot endure to be 
 despised, but are indignant when they suffer 
 injustice : they love honour, but still more 
 victory ; for youth desires superiority, and 
 victory is superiority, and both of these 
 they love more than riches ; for as to these, 
 of all things, they care for them the least. 
 They are not of corrupt manners, but are 
 innocent from having never beheld much 
 wickedness, and they are credulous from 
 having been seldom deceived ; and san- 
 guine in hope, for like persons who are 
 drunk with wine, they are inflamed by na- 
 ture, and from their having had but little 
 experience of fortune ; and they live by 
 hope, for hope is of the future, but memory 
 of the past, and to youth, the future is every 
 thing, the past but little : they hope all 
 things and remember nothing ; and it is 
 easy to deceive them for the reasons which 
 have been given, for they are willing to 
 hope, and are full of courage, being pas- 
 sionate and hasty, of which tempers it is 
 b b 4 
 
560 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 the nature of one not to fear, and of the 
 other to inspire confidence : and they are 
 easily put to shame, for they have no re- 
 sources to set aside the precepts which 
 they have learned ; and they have lofty 
 souls, for they have never been disgraced 
 or brought low, and they are unacquainted 
 with necessity : they prefer honour to ad- 
 vantage, virtue to expediency, for they live 
 by affection rather than by reason ; and 
 reason is concerned with expediency, but 
 affection with honour : and they are warm 
 friends and hearty companions, more than 
 other men, because they delight in fellow- 
 ship, and judge of nothing by utility, and 
 therefore not their friends ; and they chiefly 
 err in doing all things over much, for they 
 keep no medium ; they love much, and 
 they dislike much, and so in every thing ; 
 and this arises from their idea that they 
 know every thing : and their faults consist 
 more in insolence than in actual wrong : 
 and they are full of mercy, because they 
 regard all men as good, and more virtuous 
 than they are, for they measure others by 
 their own innocence ; so that they suppose 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 561 
 
 every man suffers wrongfully. And being 
 gay, and inclined to laughter, they are there- 
 fore of gracious and polished manners, for 
 elegance of manner is only insolence re- 
 fined." Such are the words, or at all events 
 (for I have hastily perused the passage) 
 such is the sense and opinion of the greatest 
 genius that ever studied the human heart. 
 If this disposition have " the pre-eminence 
 for the moral part," certainly there can be 
 no question but that it is the first in sub- 
 servience to the Christian faith, to put you 
 in possession of the highest pleasures that 
 this life can afford. How lively was the 
 joy of the young Bayard, when he first 
 mounted his little horse to visit his uncle 
 at Chamberi ! " Bayard," says his biogra- 
 pher, u n'ayant de sa vie ressenti tant de 
 joie qu'il en avoit de se voir a cheval." 
 True it is, and once for all we must proclaim 
 it, there are certain limits and distinctions 
 to be observed in the pursuit of amusement. 
 But it is a broad line which separates base 
 from laudable recreation; " unum illiberale, 
 petulans, flagitiosum, obsccenum ; alteram, 
 elegans, urbanum, ingeniosum, facetum." 
 Bb5 
 
562 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 I would appeal to all who have had expe- 
 rience of life, whether the pleasures which 
 they have received from the possession of 
 riches, or from their attainment of the ob- 
 jects of ambition, have been at all compa- 
 rable to those which they derived, in their 
 earlier years, from boyish and apparently 
 trivial sports. I demand of all whether 
 experience does not fully verify the re- 
 mark, that even when these objects are at- 
 tained, " ils ne valoient pas dans tout leur 
 eclat un quart d'heure de vrai plaisir et de 
 liberte dans la jeunesse." These pleasures 
 of youth will, of course, depend as to the 
 objects which excite them, upon the pecu- 
 liar genius and character of individuals, 
 but there are few, if any men, so unhappy 
 as not to possess some disposition or abi- 
 lity that will secure their continuance. For 
 my part, there was a time when I should 
 have had no difficulty in determining those 
 to which my preference was given. The 
 
 " Well-known pool, whose crystal depth 
 A sandy bottom shews," 
 
 was to me a fountain of the liveliest joy, 
 though certainly far more elevated was that 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 563 
 
 rapture of the soul which was felt when 
 swimming with one or two companions, in 
 the sea, and at a distance from the shore, 
 riding over the billows, in the midst of 
 gulls and other sea-fowl, who only rise for 
 a moment to skim over the surface of the 
 blue abyss, or in the same ocean as I have 
 often glided over the gentle wave, when 
 
 Adspirant auras in noctem, nec Candida cursus 
 Luna negat ; splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus. 
 
 While wandering thus over the watery 
 waste, man is then restored, as it were, to 
 a state of wildness, and natural liberty, in 
 which his proud heart triumphs 5 nay, there 
 is a joy which cannot be described even in 
 braving the horrors and confusion of a 
 tempest : 
 
 Quum medio celeres revolant ex sequore mergi 
 Clamoremque ferunt ad litora.— 
 
 when the sight is darkened, and the only 
 knowledge which you retain of a faithful 
 comrade is derived from hearing between 
 the interval of roaring billows, 
 
 _ The bubbling cry 
 
 Of a strong swimmer in his agony. 
 
 b b 6 
 
564 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 But in a moment even this ceases, for you 
 recover from some rude shock of rushing 
 waters to find yourself alone ! 
 
 Venti volvunt mare, magnaque surgunt 
 
 iEquora; dispersi jactamur gurgite vasto. 
 
 But it is the approach to shore that pre- 
 sents the greatest scene of terror, and here 
 the stoutest hearts may for a moment fail ! 
 
 — — — Ubi alterno procurrens gurgite pontus 
 Nunc ruit ad terras, scopulosque superjacit undam 
 Spumens, extremaraque sinu perfundit arenam : 
 Nunc rapidus retro, atque sestu revoluta resorbens 
 Saxa, fugit, litusque vado labente relinquit. 
 
 In equestrian exercises most men will 
 be inclined to feel with Bayard ; at least 
 it may be said that they afford pleasure 
 which may be commanded at any time. 
 Certainly I can say with Montagne, " Je 
 ne demonte pas volontiers quand je suis a 
 cheval ; car c'est 1'assiette en laquelle je 
 me trouve le mieux et sain et malade." 
 What delight more pure and exhilarating 
 than that which I have so often experienced 
 in wandering over the snow-tracts which 
 compose the higher Alps, when the air 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 565 
 
 itself inspires fresh fire in the mind, and 
 vigour in the limb, and where the scenery 
 is impressed with a certain character of 
 solitude and grandeur, combined with the 
 chearfulness resulting from the splendour 
 and brilliancy of a southern sky ? Here 
 again man leaves behind him the earth 
 and its infections : like the chamois, he 
 breathes the liberal air, and triumphs in 
 his liberty : here too the man of feeling 
 may find that vast wilderness, 
 
 " Where rumour of oppression and deceit, 
 Of unsuccessful or successful war, 
 May never reach him more." 
 
 But why leave our own land, with its cli- 
 mate however imperfect, when 
 
 " Nature in every form inspires delight," 
 
 and is ready to afford the most perfect 
 pleasures to every man who will deign to 
 accept them ? 
 
 " Whom call we gay ? That honour has been long 
 The boast of mere pretenders to the name. 
 The innocent are gay — the lark is gay, 
 That dries his feathers, saturate with dew 
 Beneath the rosy cloud, 
 
566 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Every youth and gentle squire too 
 
 —a witness of his song, 
 
 Himself a songster, is as gay as he." 
 
 How is he described by Chaucer ? 
 
 " Singing he was or floyting alle the day, 
 He was as freshe as is the moneth of May." 
 
 t( Ah, joyous season ! when the mind 
 Dares all things boldly but to lie. 
 When thought ere spoke is unconfined, 
 And sparkles in the placid eye." 
 
 Who has not experienced the pleasure 
 spoken of in the following exquisite descrip- 
 tion ? " J'etois dans la plus heureuse si- 
 tuation de corps et d'esprit ou j'aye ete de 
 mes jours. Jeune, vigoureux, pleine de 
 sante, de securite, de confiance en moi et 
 aux autres ; j'etois dans ce court mais pre- 
 cieux moment de la vie, ou la plenitude 
 expansive etend pour ainsi dire, notre etre 
 par toutes nos sensations, et embellit a 
 nos yeux la nature entiere du charme de 
 notre existence.— Je n'ai voyage a pied que 
 dans mes beaux jours, et toujours avec 
 delices. Bientot les devoirs, les affaires, 
 un bagage a porter, m'ont force de faire le 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 567 
 
 monsieur, et de prendre des voitures : les 
 soucis rongeants, les embarras, la gene y 
 sont montes avec moi ; et des lors, au lieu 
 qu'auparavant dans mes voyages je ne sen- 
 tois que le plaisir d'aller, je n'ai plus sente 
 que le besoin d'arriver." 
 
 " Principio quis nescit," says Erasmus, 
 speaking in the character of folly, " pri- 
 mam hominis setatem multo lsetissimam, 
 multoque omnibus gratissimam esse ? Quid 
 est enim illud in infantibus, quod sic exos- 
 culamur, sic amplectimur, sic fovemus, ut 
 hostis etiam huic setati ferat opem ? Deinde 
 quae succedit huic adolescentia, quam est 
 apud omnes gratiosa, quam candide favent 
 omnes, quam studiose provehunt, quam of- 
 ficiose porrigunt auxiliares manus ? At 
 unde quseso ista juventse gratia? unde nisi 
 ex me? Cujus beneficio quam minimum 
 sapit, atque ob id quam minime ringitur. 
 Mentior, nisi mox ubi grandiores facti, per 
 rerum usum ac disciplinas virile quiddam 
 sapere cseperint, continuo deflorescit formae 
 nitor, languescit alacritas, frigescit lepos, 
 labascit vigor. Quoque longius a me sub- 
 
568 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ducitur, hie minus minusque vivit donee 
 succedat to ^aXewov yr^as" Nor does he 
 allude to an advantage that can be despised 
 with wisdom. " Je ne puis dire assez sou- 
 vent," says Montagne, " combien j'estime 
 la beaute. — Non seulement aux hommes qui 
 me servent mais aux bestes aussi je la con- 
 sidere a deux doits pres de la bonte." — " In 
 hoc vos pudore, judices," said Cicero, in 
 pleading for P. Sylla, " tanto sceleri locum 
 fuisse creditis ? adspicite ipsum ; contue- 
 mini os." Tv$\ov ro zpcorw^cz, replied Aris- 
 totle to one who enquired gravely why the 
 countenance was said to indicate charac- 
 ter *. In the crowded streets of a commer- 
 cial and manufacturing city, or even in the 
 walks of men who are engaged in the drud- 
 gery of a learned profession, or in the ha- 
 rassing pursuit of distinction or wealth, or 
 of any end which excites the base passions 
 
 * Has it never occurred to us that hardened impiety 
 is often accompanied with some deformity of person, 
 and almost always with a disgusting expression of coun- 
 tenance ? De Maistre has a splendid passage on this 
 subject, in allusion to Voltaire. Soire de St. Petersb* 
 torn, i, The opinion was decidedly held by Plato. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 569 
 
 of the human heart, with what ease and 
 pleasure does the eye recognize a counte- 
 nance which denotes an exemption from 
 these evils, the " ingenui vultus puer," the 
 true, frank, and courteous gentleman, the 
 look of ease and sweetness, of chearfulness 
 and dignity, such 
 
 u as virtue always wears, 
 
 When gav good nature dresses her in smiles?" 
 
 It would be quite endless to enumerate 
 the various descriptions of English exercise 
 in which we can engage. Let us only re- 
 collect the example in Sterne, of the cor- 
 poral and his gallant master, and what de- 
 light they derived from the fortress in the 
 garden. Here is an exercise replete not 
 only with pleasure but with advantage, for 
 here we may employ strength of limb and 
 generosity of soul, here we may spare the 
 weak and confound the proud, be hum- 
 ble in victory, and comforted in defeat : 
 what higher duties, what prouder pleasures 
 could have been the lot of Turenne or of 
 Marlborough ? I wish to make you sen- 
 sible that these pleasures and advantages 
 
570 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 which may be obtained by all, are to be 
 preferred far above the comforts and luxu- 
 ries which accompany riches, and are there- 
 fore but the lot of few. I wish to convince 
 you that they are superior to the formal, 
 though useless and pernicious follies of a 
 maturer age, towards which the advance 
 of years, by the caprice of custom, and 
 the effeminate spirit which degrades so 
 many of our youth, will conduct you ; the 
 poet has enumerated them # , as he wrote 
 for all 5 limited in the persons whom I 
 address, this page may be spared the in- 
 dignity. I have endeavoured to persuade 
 you that they are in real advantage, both 
 
 * Let the reader consult Cowper, in the Sixth Book 
 of the Task, for a brief description of these base and 
 unmanly follies, which seem to have been, in his time, 
 precisely the same as at present. " The library, the 
 shop, the auction, the picture gallery," but the very 
 allusion, needs an apology from this place. Once for 
 all, these are to be avoided and despised. Nor will I 
 listen to those who argue that the men who practise 
 them may be often the first in the chace, and the 
 bravest in the field, for even were it certainly true, as 
 it is possible, this could not give them a title to be 
 base and effeminate upon other occasions, or to assume 
 the manner which belongs to baseness and effeminacy. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 571 
 
 as an honourable exercise and as a source 
 of happiness, beyond comparison superior 
 to all that accompanies the dignity of rank ; 
 the gilded chariot, the brilliant assembly, 
 the pompous banquet, the thousand toils 
 and occupations of a worldly life, in which 
 all is formal, insipid, and wearisome, en- 
 feebling to the body, and vexatious to the 
 spirit i in the simple view, in the untu- 
 tored heart of youth, to exchange them for 
 such a mockery of nature would be a sacri- 
 fice of " life's prime pleasure they who 
 regard such an exchange as desirable, may, 
 indeed, give an instant answer to the ques- 
 tion of the poet, 
 
 " Quae tibi suraraa boni est ?" 
 
 but will they be able to endure the reproof 
 that will follow ? 
 
 " Expecta: haud aliter respondeat haec anus." 
 
 " Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning 
 The close of our day, the calm eve of our night ; 
 Give me back, give me back, the wild freshness of 
 morning, 
 
 Her clouds and her tears are worth evening's best 
 light." 
 
572 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Plato, Erasmus, and Montagne, are con- 
 tinually reminding us, that true philosophy, 
 like Christianity, is calculated to gratify 
 these inclinations natural to youth, and to 
 give permanence and reality to its dream. 
 This Christian wisdom comprizes all the 
 science necessary to a gentleman. " II 
 n'est rien plus gay, plus gaillard, plus en- 
 joue, et a peu que je ne die, folastre. Elle 
 ne presche que feste etbon temps ; une mine 
 triste et transie montre, que ce n'est pas la 
 son giste." 
 
 Finally, I would only remind you that 
 these are advantages of which no outward 
 circumstances can deprive you. Wealth, 
 retirement, leisure from active pursuits, are 
 so far from being necessary, that they are 
 rather obstacles in the way of their attain- 
 ment. When there is youth and virtue, the 
 field will be always open ; and while there 
 is strength and life, we shall never be driven 
 frpm it. When the physicians warned Ves- 
 pasian, in his last illness, that his exertions 
 in transacting public affairs were increasing 
 his disorder, " well," said he, " imperato- 
 rem stantem mori oportere." " Nous som- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 573 
 
 mes nes pour agir," says Montagne, " etje 
 suis d'advis, que non seulement un Empe- 
 reur, comme disoit Vespasien,mais que tout 
 galanthomme doit mourir debout." 
 
 " Cum moriar, medium solvar ut inter opus." 
 
 Stewart, the great Duke of Northumber- 
 land, when he found his death approaching, 
 ordered his servant to clothe him in a com- 
 plete suit of armour, and sitting erect on 
 his couch with his spear in his hand, he 
 declared that in that posture, the only one 
 worthy of a warrior, he would patiently 
 await the fatal moment. From exactly the 
 same principle, Montagne declares his wish 
 that death may surprise him in the act of 
 pursuing his rural occupations ; and you 
 will recollect, that it was the pride of 
 Bayard, even in the article of death, that 
 he died in the exercise of duty. " Si vous 
 avez fait vostre profit de la vie," says Mon- 
 tagne, " vous en estes repeu, alles vous en 
 satisfait." 
 
THE 
 
 ATTACHED TO THE ORDER. 
 
 The preceding remarks ought properly to 
 have conducted me to the termination of 
 these instructions. The principles and the 
 theory of your order have now, I hope, been 
 sufficiently explained, and if you have re- 
 ceived them with a due attention, little 
 more can now be required but your own 
 application. The pressing realities of hu- 
 man life are, however, presenting themselves 
 to discourage our first efforts towards every 
 perfection ; and certainly that writer will 
 have done but little for your actual assis- 
 tance who shall have disdained to take 
 notice of them, and to supply you with that 
 homely practical advice which may serve 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 575 
 
 to remove or to alleviate their pressure. 
 You are born a gentleman, or you have 
 risen to that rank by your own merit ; but 
 it does not follow that you are born rich, 
 or that your merit will have raised you to 
 riches. This last is difficult to imagine, 
 because the merit which can have made 
 you noble, has nothing to do with avarice, 
 or with the pursuit of wealth ; it is not the 
 art of collecting or of retaining money, nei- 
 ther of seeking nor of acquiring interest, but 
 it is rather the merit of the brave and gene- 
 rous, the disinterested and sincere, which is 
 too often the poor unknown and neglected 
 child of hardship and poverty. Dantur opes 
 nulli nunc nisi divitibus. But if this be 
 your fortune in the world, there is nothing 
 to discourage your honourable ambition* 
 as long as you cherish the sentiments of 
 your birth, or practise the virtues which 
 have made you noble. As a true and faith- 
 ful servant of chivalry, you hold and exer- 
 cise the precepts of the faith, and therefore, 
 in a religious point of view, you are inde- 
 pendant of fortune. I wish to convince 
 you, that in a worldly point of view, you 
 
576 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 are alike independant. u Dies deficiat," 
 exclaims Cicero, " si velim paupertatis 
 causam defendere # ." In England, it may- 
 be the pride of a gentleman to be destitute 
 of the riches of fortune. That is but a 
 poor dignity which exposes its owner to 
 the reproach, " generosus es ex crumena." 
 I should be of this opinion if I had never 
 indulged for a moment in philosophic re- 
 flection. It must unavoidably attend a 
 taste for good company, and an aversion 
 to bad. Recollect then, and do not mis- 
 take the end and object of all my preceding 
 instructions. I do not stand up for the in- 
 solence of new made riches, for the pride of 
 commercial aggrandisement, for the prac- 
 tical infidelity, the remorseless worldly- 
 minded indifference which are not unfre- 
 quently acquired in union with the employ- 
 ments and treasures of the East. — I have 
 nothing to do with this subject, I dare not 
 answer for the effects and influence of such 
 habits and of such aggrandisement f ; but 
 
 * Tuscul. iv. 
 
 f The distinction which is observed by Aristotle is 
 remarkable : — M Aia^tpei de tolq veuhtti KSKrrjfxevoig, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 577 
 
 it is to you I speak who are gentlemen of 
 England ; I exhort you to remember, that if 
 
 Kai roig 7ra\ai, ra rjQrj, tuj airavra fiaXXov, Kai QavXo- 
 repa ra kclkcl e%eiv rovg veoirXaTsg* wairep yap diraidevvia 
 ttXovtov 8<ttl to vt07r\sTov kivai, Kai ddiKrjfiaTa ddiK&Giv 
 « Kcacovpyuca, dXXa ra fiev v£pi<JTiKa y ra de aKparev- 
 tuccc" — De Rhetor, xv. A distinction which was not 
 overlooked by the poet. Eurip. Suppl. 743. Plato 
 expresses his opinion in strong terms. irXovaiovg d' dv 
 a<podpa Kai dyaQovg, ddvvarov See this curious pas- 
 sage in the Fifth Book de Legibus. It is of Agesilaus 
 that Plutarch relates the anecdote, roig de dvrs tyiXoig 
 iraprjyyeiXe, fir] xp^juacir, dvdpeiq, de Kai apery airovda- 
 Z,eiv irXovreiv. The same spirit dictated these famous 
 words of Socrates, rovg vieig pov eTeidav t)£r](J(o<n, 
 ri/iwp^craffOf, a> dvdpeg, ravra Xvirovvrag cnrep eyoj vfxag 
 eXvjrovv, eav v^iiv doKcouiv r\ xp^/xarwi/ rj dXXov rov 
 irporepov e7TijjieXei(T9ai i\ dperrjg' Plato Apolog. It had 
 been my intention to give some of the striking pas- 
 sages in the writings of Plato which expose the base- 
 ness of that money-making or commercial spirit from 
 which England has so much to fear ; but my extracts 
 would exceed the just limits of a note, and I found it 
 impossible to decide upon the most admirable. <c It 
 were happy for these lands," says Mr. Coleridge, in 
 his lay Sermon, " if our young nobility and gentry, 
 instead of modern maxims, would imbibe the notions 
 of the great men of antiquity." An opinion to which 
 I most heartily subscribe, whatever may be said by 
 men such as Brucker, who are born to be only gram- 
 marians and verbal critics. This is not the place to 
 C C 
 
578 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 you are ambitious, honour, and not the 
 passing splendour of the day, must be the 
 
 shew that the new systems of moral philosophy and 
 metaphysics, those of Paley and Locke, are contrary 
 both to revealed religion and to the doctrines of sound 
 natural philosophy- this has been shewn by abler 
 pens : but it becomes my duty to protest against a 
 system which is destructive of all the principles which 
 belong to chivalry. Not to speak of the doctrine of 
 refined selfishness, which, at one blow, destroys ho- 
 nour, generosity, love, devotion in the chivalrous and 
 only rational sense of these terms, I must put you on 
 your guard against the monstrous principles derived 
 from that essay, not on the human understanding, 
 (God forbid that it should answer its title,) but as De 
 Maistre pleasantly observes, on Locke's understanding, 
 that gross system, as he terms it, which is " tres-cer- 
 tainement (I use the words of this admirable writer,) 
 et soit qu'on le nie ou qu'on en convienne, tout ce 
 que le defaut absolu de genie et de style peut enfanter 
 do plus assomniant." (Soirees de Saint-Petersbourg, 
 torn, i.) If through inadvertancy or compliance with 
 custom in any particular society, I may have added a 
 commendatory epithet to the name of Locke, I beseech 
 my reader to believe that I did not think at the time 
 upon his philosophy. It is devoutly to be wished that 
 the ancient masters of wisdom might be substituted in 
 place of such writers, for the office of attendants and 
 hand-maids to religion. There is hardly a virtue be* 
 longing to the chivalrous character which is not en- 
 forced and illustrated in the life-breathing philosophy 
 of Plato. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 579 
 
 object of that ambition; that if you will 
 endeavour to arrive at distinction, the prize 
 must be, not riches, but virtue # ; not the 
 admiration of lackeys, and the faithless 
 praises of the dissipated, but the blessings 
 of the poor, and the reverence of the good ; 
 that if you will engage in political life, the 
 object in your view must be, not the giddy 
 applause, the unmeaning honour, the humi- 
 liating approbation of a fickle, ignorant, 
 and worthless multitude, (hear and consider 
 the justice of these epithets) but the answer 
 of a good conscience, and the impartial ap- 
 proval of the wise ; that if you will aspire, 
 as it may well be your ambition, to serve 
 and benefit your country, you must dis- 
 charge your duty, not by giving yourself 
 up, body and soul, to obtain the favour of 
 a party, but by following the dictates of 
 your honest judgment, and only expecting 
 justice from the sure and inevitable sen- 
 
 * The alternative laid down in the Gospel — " God 
 or Mammon," may be compared with the words of 
 Plato, ovkovv drjXov rjde rsro ev woXh, on ttXstov Tifiav 
 teat V(t)(j)poGvvriv dfia iKaviog KTacrOat ev roig 7ro\iraig, 
 ddvvarov, d\\' dvayKfj r) rs stsos dfiekuv r\ ts krega, 
 De Repub. Lib. VIII. 
 
 cc2 
 
580 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 tence of impartial posterity. u Un tel 
 homme," says Montagne, u est cinq cens 
 brasses au dessus des Royaumes et des 
 Duchez : il est luymesme a soy, son empire 
 et ses richesses : il vit satisfait, content et 
 alegre ; et, a qui a cela, que reste-il V' 
 
 Observe then, I exhort you, how perfectly 
 the man of honour may despise fortune, 
 whether she offers him her riches or her 
 glory, whether she forces them upon his 
 acceptance, or withdraws them at her plea- 
 sure. 
 
 metus omnes et inexorabile fatum 
 
 subjecit pedibus, strepetumque acherontis avari ! 
 
 If you shall be induced to enter more 
 minutely upon a consideration of the cir- 
 cumstances in which you are placed by 
 fortune, every moment of reflection will 
 tend to remove the error of early impres- 
 sions, and to confirm you in the lessons of 
 virtue. For what can be the great objects 
 which, as a Christian gentleman, you are 
 bound to desire ? Must they not be the 
 favour of God, the service of Christ, the 
 maintenance of his faith, of the faith and 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 581 
 
 virtue and honour of your ancestors ? Every 
 reader who is conversant with the opinions 
 of the chivalrous age, must recollect, that 
 the highest glory was to be called " a veray 
 knyghte and servaunt of Jhesu Cryste," as 
 it is related of Sir Ector de Marys, " and 
 thenne he kneled downe and made his 
 prayer devoutely unto almighty Jhesu, for 
 he was one of the best knyghtes of the 
 world that at that tyme was, in whom the 
 veray feythe stode moost in." " And soo 
 Syre Percyval comforted hymself in our 
 lord Jhesu, and besought God no tempta- 
 cyon should brynge hym oute of Godde's 
 servyse, but to endure as his true cham- 
 pyon and Sir Bors uses an expression in 
 his prayer still more singular, " Lord Jhesu 
 Cryste whoos lyege man I am," &c. and 
 the flower of chivalry is accosted by king 
 Mordryans in these words, " Galahad, the 
 servant of Jhesu Cryst." So we read in the 
 Jerusalem delivered, 
 
 ** Cursed apostate, and ungracious wight, 
 I am that Tancred, who defend the name 
 Of Christ, and have been aye his faithful knight." 
 
 c c 3 
 
582 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Subordinate to such objects must not your 
 desire be the acquirement of friends, — of 
 persons who will love you for your valour, 
 your sincerity, your freedom, your gene- 
 rosity, — for your elevated sentiments of 
 truth and honour, — the sincere affection of 
 youth and men of virtue, who will love you 
 for your personal qualities, and not the 
 false professions of parasites, who will 
 basely flatter you for the accidental advan- 
 tages of wealth ? Do you not shudder at 
 the idea of power without virtue, of riches 
 without a friend ? — of these lines becoming 
 applicable to you ; — 
 
 " Nec amet quemquam, nec ametur ab ullo * ?" 
 
 " Who'd be so mocked with glory ? or to live 
 But in a dream of friendship f \*' 
 
 It was indeed a strange error to excite 
 the fear of poverty j — 
 
 * yiyvuGKUv on 
 
 7revr]Ta Qevysi nag Tig e/e noduv <pi\og* 
 
 * Juvenal. Sat. XII. 
 
 f Tim. of Athens, Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 583 
 
 when the very circumstances of its creat- 
 ing friends, that is, of trying all and pre- 
 senting him with true friends, was the great 
 consolation of the Sage. " Desine nunc 
 amissas opes quserere ; quod pretiosissimum 
 divitiarum genus est, amicos invenisti # ." 
 
 " You desire to be at court with me/' 
 says Alain Chartier, in the book which he 
 terms " Le Curial," " es tu ennuye de vivre 
 en paix ? Telle maleurte seuffre nature hu- 
 maine, qu'elle appete ce quelle n'a pas, et 
 se fuyt du bien qu'elle a sans aultruy dan- 
 gier. Ainsi mesprises tu la paix de ton 
 courage, et de leur estat de ta pensee : et 
 par l'erreur du mesprisement que tu en as 
 acquis, les choses qui de leur mesme con- 
 dition sont plus a mespriser, que par vices 
 d'autruy h priser, tu loues et exauces. Je 
 me merveille moult comme toy qui es pru- 
 dent et sage deviens si forcene de toy oser 
 exposer a tant de perils. Et se ta veux 
 user de mon conseil, ne prens de riens ex- 
 ample a moy a poursuivir les cours et pub- 
 licques murmures de hauls Palais : aingois 
 
 * Boethius Consol. 
 
 c c 4 
 
584 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 te soit mon peril exemple de les fouyr et 
 eschever. Car je n'oserois affermer que 
 entre le bruit de ceux qui y touruoyent, y 
 ait chose seure ne salutiere. Tu cuideras 
 espouvoir trouver exercise de vertu en mi- 
 sere ainsi publique : et aussi certes les y 
 trouverastu, se tu fais veu de batailler con- 
 stamment contre tous vices. Mais donne 
 toy garde que tu ne soyes de premiers vain- 
 cus. Car je te dis que les cours des haux 
 Princes ne sont jamais desgarnies de gens 
 desloyaux par beaux langage decevans, ou 
 par menaces espouventans, ou par envie 
 contendans, ou par force de dons corrom- 
 pans, ou par flaterie blandissans ou par 
 deliz aleichans, ou en quelque autre ma- 
 niere le bon vouloir des preuds hommes 
 empeschans. Car nostre poure humanite 
 est de legier enclinee a ensuir les meurs 
 des autres, et a faire ainsi comme ils font. 
 Et a peine peut eschapper celuy, qui est 
 assiege et assailly de tant d'adversaires. 
 Or prenons que tu perseveres en ta vertu, 
 et que tu eschappes la corruption de tels 
 vices, encores en ce cas n'as ta pas rien 
 vaincu sinon toy mesmes ; mais c'est a plus 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 585 
 
 grant ahan que tu ne l'eusses facit en ton 
 secret et prive. Et soyes certain, ou que 
 ta vertu te y fera mocquer ou ta v^rite te y 
 fera hayr, ou que ta discretion te y rendra 
 plus suspect a mauvaises gens, qui mes- 
 disent de ceux que ils cognoissent estre 
 sages et loyaulx." And after exposing the 
 vice and dangers of the Court to his bro- 
 ther, he observes, how happy his condi- 
 tion should render him : " Car qui a petite 
 famille, et la gouverne sagement, en paix, 
 il est Seigneur. O fortunez hommes qui 
 vivez en paix ! O bieneuree famille, ou il 
 y a honneste pourrete, qui se contente de 
 raison, sans manger les fruicte d'autruy 
 Iabeur ! O bieneuree maisonnette en la- 
 quelle regne vertu sans fraude ne barat, et 
 qui est honnestement gouvernee en crainte 
 de Dieu et bonne moderation de vie ! II- 
 lecques n'entrent nulz pechiez, illec est vie 
 droicturieure, ou il y a remors de chacun 
 peche, et ou il n'a noise, murmure, ne 
 envie. De telle vie esiouyst nature et en 
 telles aises vit elle longuement, et petite a 
 petit s'en va jusques a plaiante vieillesse et 
 honneste fin." Do we wish to behold an 
 c c 5 
 
586 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 example of this happiness? Let us hear 
 Eustace describe a scene at Procida. " The 
 moon rose — a table was placed before me, 
 covered with figs, apricots, and peaches. 
 The man and woman who took care of the 
 palace, a young couple, the husband strong 
 and comely, the wife handsome, seated 
 themselves opposite to me : their son, a 
 smart lively boy, served at table. After a 
 little conversation the man took his guitar 
 and accompanied his wife, while she sung 
 the evening hymn, in a sweet voice, and 
 with great earnestness. Occasionally the 
 man and boy joined in chorus, and while 
 they sung, the eyes of all three were some- 
 times raised to heaven, and sometimes 
 fixed on each other with a mixed expres- 
 sion of piety, affection, and gratitude. I 
 own I never was present at an act of family 
 devotion more simple or more graceful. It 
 seemed to harmonise with the beauty of 
 the country and the temperature of the air, 
 and breathed at once the innocence and 
 the joy of Paradise." After such a picture, 
 how delightful are these lines of Spenser ? 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 587 
 
 « Through foul intemperance 
 
 Frail men are oft captiv'd to covetise : 
 
 But would they think with how small allowance 
 
 Untroubled nature doth herself suffice, 
 
 Such superfluities they would despise, 
 
 Which with sad cares empeach our native joys ; 
 
 At the well-head the purest streams arise ; 
 
 But mucky filth his branching arms annoys 
 
 And with uncomely weeds the gentle wave accioys." 
 
 Again, if virtue be alone nobility, and if 
 riches present temptations on every side, 
 to mislead and overcome it, if they harden 
 the heart to the impressions of generosity, 
 and inspire the mind with a contempt for 
 the sentiments of honour. If they be in- 
 deed the 
 
 — — " Root of all disquietness ; 
 
 First got with guile, and then preserved with dread, 
 And after spent with pride and lavishness, 
 Leaving behind them grief and heaviness." 
 
 If, as the same sweet poet sings, 
 
 " Infinite mischiefs of them do arise ; 
 Strife and debate, bloodshed and bitterness, 
 Outrageous wrong, and hellish covetise, 
 That noble heart (as great dishonour) doth despise. ,5 
 
 If it be difficult to unite them with the ser- 
 c c 6 
 
588 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 vice of God # , and with the exercise of 
 virtue, — O ! will you lament your deliver- 
 ance from danger without glory, from dif- 
 ficulties without reward, from a secret, pro- 
 tracted, and uninterrupted struggle, where 
 it is no honour to be victorious, and where 
 it is ruin, eternal death, and infamy to be 
 overcome ? 
 
 The story of the embassy of Aristagoras 
 to Sparta, is a fine moral lesson. The 
 Spartan king had refused to accede to the 
 proposals, and had commanded the embas- 
 sador to withdraw. The last resource of 
 Aristagoras was in a bribe, but his hopes 
 were defeated by the acute simplicity of a 
 child ; — TTxreg S*a(f>&egst os o £stvor, %v y*n oLttoc- 
 tols Imf. This reminded the King, and 
 saved Sparta. 
 
 And besides this, mark how contrary to 
 the spirit of a gentleman and a gallant man, 
 are these pompous luxuries and effeminate 
 refinements which are now so generally the 
 
 * Tov rot rvpavvov tva&uv ov pydwv. 
 
 Sophocles Ajax, 1350. 
 
 f Herodotus, Lib. v. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 589 
 
 attendants upon wealth. This may be illus- 
 trated by a fine passage in the Agamemnon 
 of iEschylus. When the King arrives, 
 after his long absence at the siege of Troy, 
 and Cly temnestra prepares to greet him with 
 a sumptuous parade. 
 
 fAf] yWaiKOQ Iv TpOTTOlQ £JLt£ 
 
 "Atpvve, (exclaims the hero,) 
 Mrjd' sifiaffi GTpoMTaG e7ri(pSovov iropov 
 TtOfi* Seovq toi roiade Tifia\<peiv %pf wv % 
 'Ev 7ToiK(XoLg de &vr)T0v ovra KaWeviv 
 BaiveiVy efioi fiev ovdafnoq avev (j>otov. 
 Afyw, k<xt av$pa, firj Seov aetuv kfie *. 
 
 To affirm that wealth and its attendants 
 are conducive to happiness, is, says Plato f, 
 the sentence of a woman or a child : and 
 you have been already told that a contempt 
 and aversion for the delicate indulgences 
 of an effeminate life, and a consequent in- 
 difference to the means which may be re- 
 quired to secure them, should for ever dis- 
 tinguish the temper of a gentleman. 
 
 * Agam. 903. 
 
 f Epist. VIII. Let the reader consult Xenophon's 
 book, Hiero, where he will find a strong case made 
 out against the happiness ascribed to the rich. In one 
 {particular Paley has copied the argument. 
 
590 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 The observations which occurred to us in 
 another place, where we treated of the dig- 
 nity of the order, may have served to ap- 
 prise you that the basis of nobility, or, in 
 other words, the true ground for that laud- 
 able elevation of mind which unites the 
 pride of a generous spirit with the humility 
 of the Christian, is independant of the out- 
 ward circumstances in which you may be 
 placed by fortune. This is a truth which 
 some men appear to be incapable of com- 
 prehending, and which, it must be con- 
 fessed, can never be grateful to minds of 
 the ordinary stamp in any station of life. 
 Men of rank and affluence, without the 
 inheritance of corresponding virtues, of 
 whom Plutarch has said, that they are gen- 
 tlemen by fortune, and churls by choice, 
 
 cannot be expected to assent to these con- 
 clusions, or be brought to believe that there 
 is any other possession but their riches 
 and titles necessary to establish their supe- 
 riority. Such men have in all ages of 
 the world been the scandal of religion: 
 
 * De Educand. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 591 
 
 they wish to be great without deserv- 
 ing honour, and to enjoy the decoration 
 without possessing the reality of virtue. 
 But never let virtue and honour, high sen- 
 timent and generous thoughts, be dis- 
 couraged by the effrontery of this falla- 
 cious declamation, nor from a just hatred 
 of sophistry and selfish pride, let them fear 
 to avow the grounds upon which they ad- 
 mit superiority # . It is not the savage, 
 selfish ambition which desires a republican 
 equality, that will furnish gentlemen with 
 the sentiments which should characterise 
 
 * The opinion of Plato, as given by Diogenes Laer- 
 tius, will explain these different grounds of respect. 
 
 " Aiaipeirai ds r) evyeveia elg eidr) rerrapa, ev fiev 9 kav 
 u(Tiv 01 irpoyovoi KaXoiKoiyaSroi Kai dwaioi, rovg £k tovtmv 
 yeyevrjfjLtvovg, evyevtig tpaaiv dvar aXKo Se, kav uaiv oi 
 7Tpoyovoi dsdvva^evicoTeg Kai apxovreg ysyevrj[jLEvoi 9 rovg 
 ate tovtojv tvyevug (pacriv elvai. dXKo Se, kav foaiv oi wpo- 
 yovoi 6vo{jia<70L 9 oiov diro ^parr)yiag 9 diro 'zeQavirwv ayw- 
 vujv Kai rovg sk tovtujv yeyevrjiitvovg, kvyevsig TTpo^ayog- 
 evofjLsv. aWo tldog, edv avrog rig r) ysvvaSag rrjv ipvxrjv 
 Kai fieyaXo ipvxog f Kai tovtov evyevrj <pacri. Kai Trig 7 £ 
 tvyeveiag avrrj Kparirr] rrjg dpa evyeveiag, to fxzv dwo 
 7rpoyovo)v kniEiKuv^ to & dvva^ojv, to de kv8o%U)v 9 to 6e 
 diro Trig avrov koXoko:^ aSiag." Lib. III. 
 
592 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 their order, and which should equally dis- 
 tinguish every individual that belongs to it: 
 neither is it a silly presumption that would 
 arrogate a rank and precedence which are 
 the privilege of other men, and which can 
 never be assumed upon false pretences 
 without absurdity : but it is the convic- 
 tion, inseparable from nobility of mind, 
 that while you yield precedence, and re- 
 spect, and service to those persons who 
 occupy a higher rank in the scale of nobi- 
 lity # , — while you are ready to honour them 
 with that becoming submission and grace- 
 ful generosity which bows to constituted 
 prescription, and which delights in ho- 
 
 * The morose pride of those persons who shun the 
 highest circles and the acquaintance of great men 
 should be corrected by perusing the admirable letter 
 of Fenelon to his nephew, on the proper use of the 
 world, and on the conduct which we should pursue 
 towards the great. " Souvent il n'y a que paresse, 
 que timidity que mollesse a suivre son gout dans cette 
 apparente modestie qui fait negliger le commerce des 
 personnes elevees." Who that has attended to the 
 movements of his own heart will not feel the justice 
 of this statement ? Self-love and pride are often the 
 beginning and end of our philosophy. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 593 
 
 nourable obedience, — while you are ever 
 ready to extend honour to whom honour is 
 due, and service to whom service, you can- 
 not yield, with consistency and truth, to 
 any gentleman, whatever may be his title, 
 or acquisitions, or fortune, in spirit and 
 fidelity, or surrender upon any condition, 
 or to any of your race, the palm of fearless 
 independance and of unspotted honour. To 
 you will still belong the pure and stately 
 manners which confer the proudest distinc- 
 tion, — the commanding air, the ceremo- 
 nious dignity which characterised the an- 
 cient knights, and which lifted them above 
 nature. 
 
 In your application of the lines of Dry- 
 den, there is nothing of republican so- 
 phistry, nothing but what every lover of 
 chivalry and virtue must sanction and ap- 
 plaud. 
 
 " he whose mind is noble is alone of noble kind, 
 
 Though poor in fortune, of celestial race, 
 And he commits the crime who calls him base." 
 
 Profoundly humble, and conscious of 
 guilt before God, regarding no human be- 
 
594 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ing as possessing an inferior claim to your 
 own upon the Divine favour, trusting for 
 mercy solely to the merits and atonement 
 of Jesus Christ, you may hear without fear, 
 the reproaches and misrepresentations of 
 those, who either from ignorance or male- 
 volence, will imply that your elevation of 
 mind is a departure from the humility of 
 the faith ; for you will be confirmed by the 
 testimony of your conscience, which en- 
 courages every step towards the attainment 
 of that self-respect, of that uncompromising 
 dignity of mind which is essential to distin- 
 guish the humility of a Christian from the 
 misgivings of a worthless heart, or from the 
 presumptuous indifference which so fre- 
 quently accompanies an abandonment of 
 all religious principle. The observations 
 of Aristotle upon this subject will be just 
 and admirable to the end of time. They 
 occur in the chapter upon Magnanimity, in 
 his Ethics. The case is clearly stated in 
 these words. m 'O /xsv ya§ [aixqo-^uxos, d%ios 
 c5v iyo&coy 9 saurov oiirosspzi m *%ios s$i xai eoixe 
 xqlxqv !%eiv Tt, Ijc T8 dfyouv locvrov rm aya&a/v, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 595 
 
 koli dyvoeiv lavrov.— Aoxe* /[/,sy<3tXo\J/f%o£ ehat 
 o f^syocXcuv avrov d^icuy, &%ios Srg" Nor is this 
 unjust, as the poet has said, 
 
 " %vv T<t> ducaiy yap fiey' t%e?i (ppoveiv." 
 
 Sophocles Ajax, 1125. 
 
 How clearly does Cicero mark this distinc- 
 tion, where he says of the confidence dis- 
 played by Socrates before his judges, " a 
 magnitudine animi ductam non a superbia # . 
 The words of Darius to Alexander, are ad- 
 mirably illustrative of that consciousness 
 of dignity which distinguishes the gentle- 
 man in every age, duras £e (SqlgiXbus v&qx fiaai- 
 yvva.iY.cc ts T03V autH airsiv, &C. And the 
 following is still a more striking instance. 
 When Alexander saw Poms for the first 
 time, to ts fxsysQos 1^olv[ax^.v 9 says Arrian, 
 vvsp ttsvts 7rn%s^ ^aXiara %utA@ouvQV, kgcl to xocX- 
 
 Xo£ T8 TIwpU, XOLl QTl 8 <J&l$vkUJ[jLEVO$ TY) yVCJ^fi £(pOCl- 
 
 veto, dXh' ws <ke% dvnq czyaQoS av^gi ayaSo; TrgoaeX- 
 
 $01, VftEp $O.GlkZiaS TVS O.VT& <RQQS fioCGlXsOC aXXoV 
 
 xotkcos *hy micros. To Alexander's command 
 that Porus should declare his wishes, the 
 king replied, on ft&Gthntan (aoi %%yoa.i, oj *AXe£- 
 
 * Tuscul. I. 30. 
 
596 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 avS§s* The generous conqueror made answer, 
 T8T0 /xev taroa aoi 9 TIooqe, s//,« Ivsxa* <7f Se (7ai/T« 
 8V£>ca o t* ooi (piXov d%tH. But the reply was 
 still the same, Travra ev thtw Ivsivar Thus 
 again, we have the answer of Menedemus to 
 Antigonus, who upon a certain occasion 
 sent to require his advice respecting the 
 conduct he should pursue. oiwTinaas r aXkcc, 
 says Diogenes Laertius of the philosopher, 
 ptovov IxeXst/ffEV dffayysikoci on (3aoi\scos vios sari. 
 Guided by the same spirit which actuated 
 Francis I. and Henry IV, of France, our 
 late Sovereign Lord, George III. signed 
 himself upon one occasion, " a gentleman 
 of Berkshire." It is of essential impor- 
 tance, that gentlemen should be impressed 
 with a just sense of the dignity with which 
 they are individually invested, — a dignity 
 which is connected with all that is pure 
 and holy, and elevated in the human cha- 
 racter, refined and exalted by piety, by 
 faith, and love ; for 
 
 " True dignity abides with him alone 
 
 Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, 
 Can still suspect, and still revere himself, 
 In lowliness of heart 
 
 * Wordsworth. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 597 
 
 The arguments of those persons who would 
 prescribe a lower standard of feeling and 
 sentiment, with a corresponding habit of 
 expression and demeanour to gentlemen of 
 less elevated rank and of inferior fortune, 
 have a direct tendency to vitiate and destroy 
 the very first principles of all nobility, to 
 confound the true lines of distinction in 
 human life, and to leave nothing in the most 
 important and beneficial institutions of so- 
 ciety which can develope the virtue, or pro- 
 mote the happiness of mankind. The ex- 
 ternal rights of primogeniture as established 
 by the law of almost every nation, and by 
 the spirit of virtue transmitted to us from 
 the age which was the enemy to selfish 
 ambition, under whatever title or specious 
 character it might appear, however bene- 
 ficial to society and honourable to the pos- 
 sessor, will never be the object of envy to 
 any but to men of base, avaricious, and 
 selfish minds ; who know nothing of honour 
 or of generous sentiment ; to whom the 
 pleasure of danger, the reward of exertion, 
 the elevated principles of nature and Chris- 
 tianity, are all a chimera, are all nothing, 
 
598 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 or worse than nothing ; the image of virtue 
 which they wish not to possess, the standard 
 of duty which they have deserted and for- 
 gotten. 
 
 In the romance of Guerin de Montglaive, 
 we read, that upon occasion of a solemn 
 feast in the castle of this prince, Mabilette 
 seeing at table her four sons, Arnault, Mi- 
 lou, Regnier, and Girard, all splendidly 
 apparelled, " noble Duke," she said to her 
 husband, " do you not thank heaven with 
 me, for having given us four such sons, the 
 least of whom has already the air and ad- 
 dress d'un preux chevalier?" Guerin, for 
 the first time in his life, evinced to Mabi- 
 lette impatience and anger. u Eh ! non, de 
 par Dieu ! dame," he replied, " je n'ai plus 
 de plaisir a les tenir dans ma cour ; car je 
 les vois mener une vie faineante, entre balo, 
 soulas, chasses et festins : telle vie ne leur 
 acquerra nul los, nens bornera leur che- 
 vanci a n'etre jamais que de tres-petits com- 
 pagnons." Then looking at his four sons 
 with much great fierceness, u et vous autres 
 quatre grands gaillards, ne rougissez-vous 
 point de perdre temps et jeunesse a ban- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 599 
 
 queter, comme poussins sous une mue? 
 Par la foi que je dois a Monseigneur Saint 
 Martin, mieux aimerois je n'avoir point 
 lignee, que de la voir, comme la folle vigne 
 qui ne porte point de raisins." The depar- 
 ture of the four youths was the consequence 
 of this scene, and when the day arrived upon 
 which they were to take leave of the Duke 
 and Duchess, Guerin, says the romance, 
 shed no tear. On the contrary, " j'envie 
 votre sort," he said to them, " et, bien que 
 gouverner doucement mes vassaux et ca- 
 resser Mabilette soit un genre de vie qui 
 me plaisse assez, mieux aimerois-je encore 
 aller chercher les hautes aventures, comme 
 je le faisois autrefois, avec mes deux amis 
 le terrible geant Robastre et l'enchanteur 
 Perdrigon. Age et mariage, voyez vous, 
 mes enfans amoindrissent souvent cheva- 
 lerie : me voici comme lionapprivoise : mes 
 amis sont devenus devote ; Robastre s'est 
 fait hermite # Perdrigon a fait voen de 
 ne plus avoir affaire au diable 5 — Baste, 
 
 * The reader will forgive my detaining him with the 
 following amusing anecdote, relating to this formida- 
 ble hermit. The bastard Hunaut, after treacherously 
 
600 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 notre vie a tous trois n'est plus q'un espece 
 de sommeil." Whatever may be our feeling 
 
 surprising Arnaud and Fregonde, and delivering them 
 to the Sultan, after renouncing the faith and embrac- 
 ing that of Mahomet, was on his return to Aquitaine, 
 when a horrible dream brought him to a sense of his 
 wickedness and his danger. It was in a forest when 
 he was about to put an end to an existence which had 
 become intolerable, that he heard the sound of a little 
 bell in the wood ; directing his steps in the direction 
 whence it came, he arrived at the door of a hermitage, 
 and was confused at the sight of a cross, in which he 
 thought he could no longer hope. Trembling, he 
 knocked at the door of the hermitage, and his trembling 
 increased when he beheld a Giant of a horrible aspect • 
 his red and bristly hair surrounded his large forehead, 
 a long and rough beard, descending to the cord which 
 girt his waist. It was the celebrated Giant Robastre, 
 son of Mallembruno, who after assisting the Duke 
 Guerin to conquer Montglaive, had retired into the 
 ^forest to lead a life of devotion. " Chretien, que veux- 
 tu de moi?" said this terrible hermit with a hoarse 
 voice. This single word of a Christian, was a crash of 
 thunder to the wicked Hunaut. " Alas," he replied, 
 " I am no longer a Christian," and he threw himself 
 on the ground in despair. u Chien de mecreant," said 
 the Giant, " puisque tu n'es pas chretien, que, me de- 
 mandes-tu done?" " Alas!" said Hunaut, "if the 
 most bitter repentance can move Divine justice, I 
 demand at your feet, that you hear my confession and 
 give me absolution." " Ah, ah !" said the Giant, ° tu 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 601 
 
 with respect to the character of this old 
 gentleman, certain it is that the aspiring 
 spirit of youth, led on by hope, and cou- 
 
 veux te confesser ? c'est autre chose. Mon ministere 
 ne me permet pas de te refuser ; allons, voyons ; rap- 
 pelles tes esprits. Ne sais-tu pas qu'il ne peut etre si 
 grand pecheur, que la misericorde du ciel ne puisse 
 Iaver s'il revient a loyaute >** Hunaut fell on his knees, 
 smote his breast, and made his confession, detailing 
 the atrocious treachery of which he had been guilty. 
 The Giant had been making horrible grimaces during 
 the recital. s< Ce coquin-la," said he to himself, il est 
 bienheureux d'avoir une contrition aussi parfaite. 
 Comme ministre, je ne peux lui refuser de Pabsoudre ; 
 mais il est bien a craindre qu'une ame aussi gangrenee 
 ne retombe pas bientot dans le cloaque d'ou je vais la 
 tirer." The good Giant was a very bad theologian ; 
 be thought that the best part which he could take was 
 to seize this moment to save the soul of Hunaut, and 
 that the safest way was to absolve him, and then knock 
 him on the head. The Giant hermit, accordingly, 
 giving him his benediction and absolution with one 
 hand, smote him on the head with the other, and laid 
 him dead at his feet. The Giant then laid by his her- 
 mit's dress, and proceeded to the Mussulman court to 
 deliver his dear friend Arnaud, whom he had never seen, 
 from the prison in which he had been left by the traitor 
 Hunaut. Success crowned his generous efforts ; he 
 delivered Arnaud, baptized Fregonde, and married the 
 faithful lovers. 
 
 d d 
 
602 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR, 
 
 rage, and generosity, is ready to accommo- 
 date itself to every condition of human 
 life, to pity rather than to covet the objects 
 of vulgar ambition, the obstacles to virtue 
 and honour, and to endure, with perfect 
 content, the pressure of circumstances, 
 which would be intolerable to men of vul- 
 gar thoughts and worldly minds. " Que le 
 poltron s'amuse a vivre tant qu'il voudra, 
 c'est son metier ; mais qu'il ne vienne point 
 nous etourdir de ses impertinences sur le 
 malheur de ceux qui ne lui ressemblent 
 pas # ." Such is the language dictated by 
 this disposition of soul. Youth is too 
 virtuous to be influenced by the desire 
 of selfish enjoyment and imaginary inde- 
 pendence, to share with women the easy 
 comforts of life, without participating in 
 its hardships and dangers ; and withal it 
 is too sharp-sighted to be deceived by the 
 vulgar estimate that would identify rank 
 with honour, or a title with possession. 
 When Sir Tristram refused to attend king 
 Arthur's feast at Pentecost, because La 
 
 * De Maistre. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 603 
 
 Belle Isond declined his invitation to ac- 
 company him, that lady exclaimed, " God 
 defende, for thenne shall I be spoken of 
 shame amonge alle quenes and ladyes of 
 estate, for ye that ar called one of the no- 
 blest knyghtes of the world, and ye a 
 knyghte of the round table, how maye ye 
 be myst at that feest. What shalle be said 
 amonge alle knyghtes. See how Sire Tris- 
 tram hunteth, and hawketh, and coureth 
 within a castle with his lady, and forsaketh 
 your worshyp. Alias, shalle some say, hit 
 is pyte that ever he was made knyght, or 
 that ever he shold have the love of a lady. 
 Also what shal quenes and ladyes saye of 
 me, hit is pyte that I have my lyf that I wille 
 holde soo noble a knyghte as ye are from 
 his worship. " And this abuse of the liberty 
 and comforts of independent fortune, has 
 been eloquently lamented by the Due de 
 Sully in his memoires, when he says, " il 
 ne faut que jeter les yeux sut tant de gen- 
 tilshommes metifs, dont la cour et la ville 
 sont pleines, vous n'y voyez plus rien de 
 cette vertu simple, male et nerveuse de 
 leurs ancetres, nuls sentimens, nulle solidite 
 Dd2 
 
604 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 dans l'esprit, air etourdi et evapore, passion 
 pour le jeu et la debauche, soin de leur pa- 
 rure, raffinement sur les parfums et sur 
 toutes les autres parties de la mollesse : 
 vous diriez qu'ils cherchent a l'emporter 
 sur les femmes." The rights of primoge- 
 niture are coeval with the earliest records 
 of human society ; they have been sanc- 
 tioned by Divine revelation, and confirmed 
 by the general judgment of mankind in all 
 ages ; yet such is human nature, or rather 
 such is the temper and tone of feeling which 
 characterises every young man of well-con- 
 stituted mind, that so far from envying the 
 external privileges from which fortune has 
 excluded him, if the choice were in his 
 power, he would prefer the spur to the 
 label # , the post of personal exertion with 
 the neglect of men who seek their own in- 
 terest, to the privilege of ease, and comfort, 
 and power, with the applause and profes- 
 sions of the same crowd ; that is, he would 
 
 * Alluding to the mullet or spur rowel which is used 
 by heralds to distinguish the third son, and the label 
 which denotes the eldest who inherits the estate of hit 
 house. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 605 
 
 prefer the occupation and freedom, and 
 even hardship which accompany an inferior 
 rank, to the enjoyments, or incentives of 
 enjoyment, with the privileges and obliga- 
 tions which are attached to a more conspi- 
 cuous station : he feels that it is more gra- 
 tifying to extend than to receive honour, 
 and that the generous pride of power is even 
 surpassed by that of service. He would 
 rather faithfully obey than command with 
 authority. These feelings and associations 
 may have been despised by him, 
 
 " Cui pulchrum fuit in medios dormire dies, et 
 Ad strepitum citharaes cessatum ducere curam, ,> 
 
 but it is not the less certain that they have 
 a firm foundation in the highest and purest 
 principles of our nature. Where there is 
 health and strength, there is nothing which 
 virtue cannot endure with cheerfulness : 
 nay, with all the pride and extasy of youth. 
 In comparison to the delight and recom- 
 pence of feeling which the Creator has at- 
 tached to life, and inseparably connected 
 with the discharge of duty, even in the 
 Dd3 
 
606 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 present world, what are the choicest luxu- 
 ries, the richest parade, the proudest dis- 
 tinctions that can be the gift of fortune or 
 of the world ? What are they to the heart 
 of man but disappointment and vanity? 
 It is easy for men of ordinary minds to 
 stigmatize these sentiments as chimerical, 
 and to boast of solid blessings as opposed 
 to vain, imaginary pleasures, but they should 
 be reminded that this is to be guilty of the 
 very declamation, and to be the sport of 
 the very imagination which they propose 
 to censure. What is comfort, that idol of 
 the modern ages, which it is madness and 
 folly, and ingratitude not to worship ? — 
 What is this specious object of desire, 
 when there is no activity or excitement ? 
 No alternate succession of fear and hope ? 
 " II faut oster le masque aussi bien des 
 choses, que des personnes." Take away 
 the masque, and what remains? It is a 
 phantom ready to mock our bitter misery 
 when he has perfected his scheme of deceit, 
 and when our experience must disclose his 
 treachery. It is a fiend that expects his 
 evening prey. What are riches without 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 607 
 
 the ability of enjoyment # ? What is dig- 
 nity without honour ? The Archbishop of 
 Rouen was about to pull down the archie- 
 piscopal palace and rebuild it on a grander 
 scale. Fenelon endeavoured to dissuade 
 him, " esperez-vous trouver le bonheur et 
 la paix du cceur dans ces pierres entas- 
 sees ? But if the hardships and dangers 
 of human life be conducive upon the whole 
 to the happiness of the individual who is to 
 experience them, if their very presence be 
 animating and their remembrance at least a 
 source of pleasure — Forsan et hsec olim 
 meminisse juvabit, — certainly there can be 
 no question as to their tendency to correct 
 and ameliorate our nature. Kings have 
 confessed that it was good for them to have 
 been afflicted, and no person who had not 
 struggled with the world and with fortune, 
 who had not felt in his own bosom what 
 were the sufferings incident to the various 
 conditions in the changes and chances of 
 this mortal life, could have left that sen- 
 
 * The reader may refer to Sophocles Antigone, 1165. 
 Eurip. Phoenissae, 550. Ion. 627. Iph. A. 16. Ovid, 
 Trist. HE. Hor. Od. XXIV. Lib. III. 
 
 D d 4 
 
608 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 tence, memorable for its instruction, and 
 immortal in the page of poetry : 
 
 Me quoque per multos similis fortunalabores 
 Jactatam hac demum voluit consistere terra, 
 Non ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco. 
 
 " We can not be alwayes at Parys or Dy- 
 geon, at Beaune or at Chalons/' said the 
 admiral of France to the barons and knights 
 who complained of their sufferings in Scot- 
 land, rr it behoveth them that wyll lyve in 
 this worlde, thynkynge to have honoure to 
 suffre sometyme as well povertie as welth # . 
 
 Do not then suppose that you must of 
 necessity fall a martyr to your high prin- 
 ciples, or that you will be singular in main- 
 taining them. It is true that from the ear- 
 liest times poverty has been an obstacle to 
 the advance and reception of merit, while 
 the admiration of riches has grown with the 
 vices of civilization. " Corrupti mores de- 
 pravatique sunt admiratione divitiarum," 
 is the complaint of Cicero, which has been 
 repeated by all successive friends to the 
 virtue and best interests of mankind. The 
 
 * Froissart, Vol. II. Cap. iii. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 609 
 
 Greek and Roman poets have incessantly 
 laboured to expose and deprecate the bane- 
 ful influence of wealth, in tending to remove 
 the more important distinction among men. 
 In their writings we are told, that without 
 riches there can be neither virtue nor an 
 ingenuous birth # , that no poor man is nobly 
 born f, that riches make the man $, that 
 the poor can with difficulty find relations §, 
 that poverty even exposes men to insult ||, 
 that in the purchase of beasts we look to 
 their pedigree and intrinsic goodness, but 
 that in forming human connections men 
 only regard riches, and that therefore wealth 
 has confounded the just distinctions of 
 mankind Descending to the age of chi- 
 
 * Eurip. Electra. 37. 
 
 f Phcenissae, 438. 
 
 J The saying of Aristodemus. 
 
 § Menander. 
 
 y Juv. Sat. Ill 
 
 % Theognis ; the passage is as follows — 
 
 Kpiag fitv kcli dveg di^rjfxeOa, kvovs, Kai lirmsQ 
 Evyeveag* /ecu Tig fiaXerai k% ayaOiov 
 KTrivaaOar yrjfiai fie KaKt]v kclks ov fieXedaivsi 
 
 d d 5 
 
610 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 valry, we are still presented with similar 
 complaints. ThepoetEustacheDeschamps, 
 laments in bitter language the disorders 
 which had been introduced in the esta- 
 blished orders, by the insolence of the rich 
 in his time. But in all these instances the 
 subject is brought forward for complaint, 
 and not for approval. The very facts re- 
 corded are but cases of deviation and not 
 examples, illustrating the established rule. 
 The saying which is recorded of Cicero, is 
 still the language of every gentleman, 
 " Ego — malo virum qui pecunia egeat,quam 
 pecuniam, quae viro." And the rule which 
 he lays down for determining the dignity 
 of a house is precisely the very sentiment 
 of chivalry. " Ornanda est enim dignitas 
 domo non ex domo tota quserenda : nec 
 domo dominus sed domino domus hones- 
 tanda est # ." What gentleman has not 
 
 OvSe yvvr] KaKS avdpog dvaiptrai hvai clkoitiq 
 11X8(718' dXX d<pveov (3&\trai dvr dyaOu. 
 Xpr)fiara yap ri/AWdt, kcli s/e kuks IgOXoq tyrjjxe, 
 Kai kclkoq e£ dya9a* 7t\stoq ye voq. 
 * De Off. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 611 
 
 learned to repeat these triumphant words 
 of King Henry V. ? 
 
 " By Jove, I am not covetous for gold ; 
 Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost; 
 It yearns me not, if men my garments wear ; 
 Such outward things dwell not in my desires : 
 But, if it be a sin to covet honour, 
 I am the most offending soul alive 
 
 " I am not the king of gold," said the 
 Emperor Maximilian to his father, " but of 
 men." The epithet of ' Maximilian the 
 moneyless/ might indeed have indicated a 
 culpable neglect of economy, which was 
 dangerous in a Sovereign, for though it is 
 but little to learn that it was used as a re- 
 proach by the vulgar class of mankind, we 
 are obliged to respect the judgment of the 
 impartial historian ; but I must repeat it, 
 and it should be again and again proclaimed 
 by every man who wishes to promote the 
 virtue of his fellow-creatures, that the tem- 
 per of mind which despises money, which 
 regards it as an instrument, not as an ob- 
 ject, which is neither overjoyed at its pre- 
 
 * Act IV. Scene III. 
 D d 6 
 
612 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sence, nor afflicted at its loss, is a virtue 
 of the very first importance in the human 
 heart, that it will for ever be the pride and 
 the badge of nobility, and that it will in- 
 sure to the possessor a more sovereign 
 command and a more proud dominion than 
 even the imperial crown of Austria, and the 
 sceptre of the Caesars. 
 
 Above all, is it not the pride of youth, 
 is it not written in the great charter of its 
 liberty and privilege, " Nature's sanction 
 and her first decree," that riches can neither 
 secure nor prevent the attainment of what 
 it loves ? 
 
 " Love gives a grandeur to created things, 
 Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures kings." 
 
 For though it be true what the poet was 
 
 constrained to learn from tale and history, 
 
 that 
 / 
 
 " The course of true love never did run smooth : 
 But either it was different in blood, 
 Or else it stood upon the choice of friends." 
 
 Yet nature and virtue are still, and will 
 be for ever, triumphant. When Pierre de 
 Provence received the crown from the fair 
 Maguelone, Princess of Naples, he was 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 613 
 
 ^ only known at that court as a young and 
 poor French chevalier, for he had followed 
 the advice of the old knight, who had said 
 to him, on leaving Provence, " en cachant 
 quelque temps votre haute naissance, peut- 
 etre obtiendriez-vous de votre bras et de 
 l'amour seul la belle Maguelone." It was 
 William, the stranger, not the Lord of 
 Rosna-hall, who woo'd and wed the pride 
 of minstrel's song. It was Sir Cauline 
 " the comelye youth of humble fortune, the 
 stranger wight whom no man knew," who 
 won the desire of 
 
 " Manye a kinge and manye a duke, 
 And lords of high degree." 
 
 And who does not remember that the 
 joy which fled from the splendour and af- 
 fluence of Federigo, came to visit him in 
 his poverty ; that the killing of a hawk # , 
 
 * The feelings of Federigo, so well described in this 
 delightful narrative, will remind the scholar of the 
 husband of Electra, who sorrowfully says when he is 
 about to entertain his guests — 
 
 Iv toiq toiovtoiq S* rjviK av yvw/jirj Treacj, 
 (TK07T0) ra xpruxaQ', ug f^a [jieya aQevog, 
 Ztvoig rc dowai, ■■■ >- — — — — 
 
614 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 the last treasure of that ruined lover, gained 
 a heart which prosperity could not dazzle, 
 nor luxury command, which preferred " a 
 man who stood in need of riches to riches 
 without a man VI 
 
 " But if thou go'st, I follow-—" f« Peace !" he said- 
 She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered ; 
 The ghastly colour from his lips had fled ; 
 In his deportment, shape, and mien, appeared 
 Elysian beauty — melancholy grace — 
 Brought from a pensive though a happy place. 
 
 " He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel, 
 In worlds whose course is equable and pure ; 
 No fears to beat away — no strife to heal — 
 The past unsighed for, and the future sure. 
 
 " Love was given, 
 
 Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for this end : 
 For this the passion to excess was driven, 
 That self might be annulled ; her bondage prove 
 The fetters of a dream, opposed to love." 
 
 What is the most sublime speculation of 
 philosophy, — what the most persuasive les- 
 son of the moralist when compared with 
 such poetry, with such revelations ? This 
 is not the offspring of man's polluted, un- 
 assisted spirit ; it is the gift ; it is the voice 
 of God. May a blessing descend upon him 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 615 
 
 who is thus the servant and the minister of 
 religion, employed to exalt the imagina- 
 tion, to defend and furnish that vantage 
 ground ! May the praise and the gratitude 
 of mankind attend such labours ! Mark how 
 important is the benefit resulting from 
 them. The language of life sinks with the 
 spirit of the age, it abandons truth and ho- 
 nour, and accords with the degeneracy of 
 the vulgar crowd ; but that of the imagi- 
 nation, guided by such masters, is still, 
 and will be for ever triumphant. Is the 
 hypocritical oppressor to tremble at the re- 
 proof of injured innocence ? Who does not 
 catch the enthusiasm of the poet ? 
 
 u Away, with women weep, and leave me here, 
 Fix'd like a man, to die without a tear; 
 Or save or slay us both this present hour, 
 'Tis all that fate has left within thy power." 
 
 Is resolution to be expressed? 
 
 " Tell Tancred, on his daughter's part, 
 
 The gold, though precious, equals not the heart ; 
 
 But he did well to give his best, and I, 
 
 Who wish'd a worthier urn, forgive his poverty." 
 
 Yet with what inimitable tenderness does 
 she express the degree of her affliction ? 
 
616 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 " Source of my life, and lord of my desires, 
 In whom I liv'd, with whom my soul expires. 5 ' 
 
 In every age of the world the spirit of 
 poetry has harmonized with that of nature. 
 Who does not repeat that line ? 
 
 u Non ego miror opes, nec me tua regia tangit." 
 But Horace rises still higher. 
 
 " Non possidentem multa vocaveris 
 Recte beatum ; rectius occupat 
 Nomen beati, qui Deorum 
 Muneribus sapienter uti, 
 Duramque eallet pauperiem pati ; 
 Pej usque leto flagitium timet. : 
 Non ille pro caris amicis 
 Aut patria timidus perire." 
 
 While it is Tibullus who affects the heart. 
 
 " Quid prodest coelum votis implesse, Nesera, 
 Blandaque cum multa tura dedisse prece : 
 Non, ut marmorei prodirem e limine tecti, 
 Insignis clara conspicuusque domo : 
 Aut ut multa mei renovarent jugera tauri, 
 Et magnas messes terra benigna daret : 
 Sed, tecum ut longse sociarem gaudia vitse, 
 Inque tuo caderet nostra senecta sinu , 
 Nam grave quid prodest pondus mini divitis auri ? 
 Arvaque si findant pinguia mille boves ? 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 617 
 
 Quid ve domus prodest Phrygiis innixa columnis, 
 Toenare, sive tuis, sive, Caryste, tuis ? 
 
 ******** * 
 Quid ve, in Erythraeo legitur quae littore concha, 
 Tinctaque sidonio murice lana juvat? 
 Et quaB praetera populus miratur ? in illis 
 Invidia est; falso plurima vulgus amat. 
 Non opibus nientes hominum curaeque levantur ; 
 Nam Fortuna sua tempora lege regit. 
 Sit mihi paupertas tecum jucunda, Neaera, 
 At sine te regum munera nulla volo ; 
 O niveam, quae te poterit mihi reddere, lucem! 
 O mihi felicem terque quaterque diem !" 
 
 Finally, you may apply to yourself the 
 reasoning and advice of Seneca # . " Si ad 
 naturam vives, nunquam eris pauper, si ad 
 opinionem nunquam dives." If you live 
 for Christianity and honour you can never 
 be poor ; if you wish to vie with the mag- 
 nificence of mercantile opulence you can 
 never be rich. 
 
 Aude, hospes, contemnere opes, ettequoque dignum 
 Finge Deo ; 
 
 That poverty in members of the order was 
 respected and ever assisted by the more 
 fortunate knights and barons, is clear, from 
 
 * Epist. xxvi. 
 
618 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 repeated passages of history. It was their 
 duty to receive poor gentlemen and their 
 families with the greatest marks of honour; 
 to entertain them in their castles, even to 
 present them with houses and lands, with 
 fiefs and pensions ; to give money to one, 
 a horse to another, arms to a third, and 
 whatever the particular necessities of each 
 might demand. The advice which is given 
 to King Arthur, in Lancelot du Lac, is 
 really a fine passage of romance. " La ou 
 tu verras les chevaliers en pourete, et que 
 prouesse de cueur n'aura pas oubliee, et il 
 sera laise entre les poures hommes s'il ne 
 l'oublie pas pour sa pourete d'avoir souvent 
 grant richesses de cueur — &c. " Why, Sir/' 
 quoth I, * hath he so great plentie of 
 florins ?" (it is Sir John Froissart who thus 
 addresses a knight that was describing the 
 Earl of Foix,) (i Sir," quod he, u there is 
 no lorde lyvenge as now that is so large 
 and lyberall in gyveng of gyftes as he is. 
 Then I demaunded of hym to what maner 
 of peple he was so lyberall V he answered, 
 and said, " to straungers, to knightes, and 
 squuyers comyng through his countre, and 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 619 
 
 to heraldes and mynstrels, and to every 
 man that speketh with hym : there is none 
 departeth fro him without some rewarde : 
 for if any refuse his gyft he is not content." 
 This leads me to an observation which 
 must be regarded, as at all times, of great 
 practical importance, and one which, in 
 this particular place, becomes more neces- 
 sary, in order to preserve the design and 
 tendency of these labours from an abuse to 
 which I am fully aware they may be some- 
 times liable. It will be said, for instance, 
 not indeed, I trust, by those who have 
 studied this book, that the effect of the 
 whole must be to excite that kind and de- 
 gree of respect for birth which leads those 
 who acquire it to disdain a connection with 
 men of low origine, however eminent may 
 be their personal merit, and however strik- 
 ingly endowed with these gentle and refined 
 dispositions, which are the proper objects 
 of love and friendship. But if we consider 
 well, the very reverse of this conclusion 
 will follow, from the general spirit and dis- 
 position of mind which it has been the 
 design of these pages to inculcate ; and 
 
620 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 though I am willing to hope that this spirit 
 has already dictated the proper inference 
 to my readers, yet it may be adviseable to 
 protest formally against a charge so inju- 
 rious, and by a few words of particular ad- 
 monition, to remove any possibility of mis- 
 take upon a subject of such practical mo- 
 ment. 
 
 There are young men, born in the lower 
 ranks of life, who, as Cicero remarks, 
 " sive felicitate quadam," (a remarkable ex- 
 pression, of which the Christian moralist 
 may avail himself,) " sive bonitate naturae, 
 sive parentium disciplina, rectam vitae se- 
 cuti sunt viam :" who, by education and 
 character, by virtue and religion, and by 
 all the delicate and elevated qualities of 
 the soul, are, in the highest sense of the 
 term, Gentlemen. Youth of this descrip- 
 tion exhibits a character which many are 
 please to regard as peculiarly English. 
 
 " lugenui vultus puer, iugenuique pudoris 
 
 Quales esse decet, quos ardens purpura vestit." 
 
 Formed, as it were, by the hand of nature, 
 to win the affections of men, since 
 
 " Gratior ct pulchro veniens in corpore virtus," 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 621 
 
 education and habit have confirmed and 
 extended the advantage, by uniting it with 
 graceful, unaffected, and engaging man- 
 ners. Possessing a taste and an ability for 
 the higher branches of intellectual cultiva- 
 tion, their hearts glow with those generous 
 and liberal feelings which enable them to 
 reap for themselves, and to dispense to 
 others, the benefits of learning. Sincere 
 in their attachment to the institutions of 
 their country, they discharge all the duties 
 of social life from the highest and purest 
 principles, ikocvco yocg raj (puXccns xa)7>.uovTe, Sfor 
 xai aiSous *. Modest and humble, as men 
 of the noblest blood, they exhibit, in ad- 
 dition, a peculiar sensibility to the bless- 
 ing and happiness of life, and a gratitude 
 towards the Providence whence they flow : 
 gentle to their inferiors, free and generous 
 with their companions, submissive and re- 
 spectful to those who are placed in a supe- 
 rior station : above all, that which gives 
 rise and stability to these virtues, they 
 unite all the gaiety of youth and of an un- 
 
 * Plato de Repub. 
 
622 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 burdened conscience, with a reverence for 
 the duties and the ordinances of religion, 
 and with the most profound piety towards 
 God. To befriend youth of this character 
 should be the pride of gentlemen possess- 
 ing rank and affluence ; to obtain their 
 friendship, losing sight of the difference of 
 rank which may divide them, and thereby 
 removing the air of patronage, will prove 
 assuredly their interest and their happi- 
 ness. We need not point out, in this place, 
 the degradation of cultivating an acquaint- 
 ance with what is familiarly termed low 
 company, but I must desire your attention 
 to this axiom in the study of honour, — that 
 both in youth and in manhood it is as much 
 the praise of a gentleman to forget the ad- 
 ventitious circumstances of birth and rank 
 in the formation of virtuous friendship, as 
 it is his disgrace and infamy, in every pe- 
 riod of life, to be the companion of vulgar 
 vice, from a similarity of principle and dis- 
 position. 
 
 " Esto comis etiam erga tenuis fortunse 
 sodales," said Erasmus, and it was a wise 
 precept, for its observance can hardly fail 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 623 
 
 to secure us one of the most valuable and 
 permanent of human enjoyments. The 
 friendships of the world, founded upon 
 base passions, upon interest, vanity, and 
 pride, what are they ! 
 
 " Hunc, quem coenatibi, quem mensa paravit amicum 
 Esse putas fida3 pectus amicitisB ? 
 Jam bene si coenem, noster amicus erit 
 
 Or, as Ovid remarks, 
 
 " Donee eris felix, multos numerabis amicos, 
 Tempora si fuerint nubila, solus erisf." 
 
 Such was the fate of Wolsey, 
 
 " Where'er he turns he meets a stranger's eye, 
 His suppliants scorn him, and his followers fly. 
 Now drops at once the pride of awful state, 
 The golden canopy, the glitt'ring plate, 
 The regal palace, the luxurious board, 
 The liv'ried army and the menial lord. 
 With age, with cares, with maladies opprest, 
 He seeks the refuge of monastic rest. 
 Grief aids disease, remember'd folly stings, 
 And his last sighs reproach the faith of kings." 
 
 But from a consideration of such events 
 we are not to conclude, as some moralists 
 seem to require, that poverty and obscu- 
 
 * Martial. 
 
 f Tristium. 
 
624 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 rity, of themselves, furnish men with the 
 virtues which give rise to real and perma- 
 nent friendship. An allusion to either po- 
 verty or riches, as affecting its use and 
 stability, is equally indicative of the false 
 estimate which we have formed of its na- 
 ture. " Quamobrem, hoc quidem constat," 
 says Cicero, u bonis inter bonos quasi ne- 
 cessariam benevolentiam esse : qui est ami- 
 citise fons a natura constitutus." And 
 again, " Digni autem sunt amicitias quibus 
 in ipsis inest causa, cur diligantur." And 
 again, " Virtus, virtus inquam, et conciliat 
 amicitias et conservat. In ea est enim con- 
 venientia rerum, in ea stabilitas, in ea con- 
 stantia." Hence we may be permitted to 
 remark, in conclusion, the great advantage 
 attending an education in our public schools 
 and universities, where a facility is afforded 
 to youth of high family, towards forming 
 acquaintance with their contemporaries, 
 who might otherwise be condemned, by the 
 obscurity of their birth, to remain, for life, 
 unknown and undistinguished by those who 
 have it in their power to reward merit, and 
 consequently unable to employ the talent* 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 625 
 
 which they may eminently possess in aid- 
 ing the institutions of their country, and 
 in promoting the instruction and the hap- 
 piness of mankind. Men of low origine, 
 who have risen without personal merit, to 
 riches and a certain degree of rank in the 
 world, will generally despise all intimacy 
 and connection with persons of this de- 
 scription. They resemble the foolish fa- 
 ther, of whom Juvenal speaks, 
 
 Qui miratur opes, qui nulla exempla beati 
 Pauperis esse putat. 
 
 They take the converse of a great moral 
 precept, and say to their children, 
 
 MaXKov aVodf %« ttXovtov ddiicov ij Sikcliclv ireviav. 
 
 These persons are well prepared to quit the 
 season of life's prime, and of man's best 
 virtue, they are ready to move in that ec- 
 centric and wretched circle of human ex- 
 istence, 
 
 Where man himself is but a tool, 
 
 Where interest sways our hopes and fears, 
 
 And all must love and hate by rule. 
 
 But never let it be forgotten, by those for 
 whose service these sheets have been de- 
 e e 
 
626 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 signed, that such feelings and prejudices 
 are absolutely unworthy men of their birth 
 and rank, and character ; that they are in- 
 consistent with honour, with freedom and 
 independance, with generosity of spirit, 
 with all the elevated feelings which belong 
 to men of true nobility, as well as with the 
 faith and the first duties of a Christian. 
 
 But besides the considerations which 
 have already presented themselves, are you 
 not aware that the spirit of chivalry accom- 
 modates itself to the lowest conditions of 
 life, that it even delights in suffering, and 
 hardships, and inferiority ? Was it the 
 knight only who was satisfied with honour, 
 or was not the youth who depended upon 
 him for subsistence, who served him at the 
 banquet, who had the charge of his horse 
 and armour, who was bound to obey his 
 commands, and who was continually re- 
 minded and perfectly willing to acknow- 
 ledge that his life was comparatively but 
 of little value, was not he also proud and 
 happy ? Froissart records of Sir Bertram 
 du Guesclin, that he excused himself to 
 the king, who proposed to make him con- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 627 
 
 stable, until he " sawe well that any excu- 
 cusacyons that he coude make shoulde not 
 avayle ; than finally he accorded to the 
 opinion of the kynge, ryght sore agaynst 
 his wyll." In like manner it is related of 
 Bayard, that he never desired to have a 
 high command, but rather to serve in a 
 subordinate character, that he might have 
 liberty to expose his person, and be exempt 
 from responsibility. Like the generous 
 Roman, who was ever ready to yield ho- 
 nours and rewards to his colleague, but 
 when the question was of difficulties and 
 dangers, he could never willingly yield 
 them either to his friend and consul, or to 
 any other. " Postremo se collegse honores 
 prsemiaque concessurum ; — quum pericu- 
 lum, quum dimicatio proposita sit, neque 
 cedere sua sponte neque cessurum # ." — 
 " Quant au commander," says Montagne, 
 " qui semble estre si doux, je suis fort de 
 cet advis, qu'il est bien plus aise et plus 
 plaisant de suivre que de guider, et que 
 c'est un grand sejour d'esprit de n 'avoir a 
 tenir qu'une voye tracee et a respondre que 
 
 * Livy, lib. X. c. xxiv. 
 
 e e 2 
 
628 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 de soy." The fortune and fate of the in- 
 comparable Bayard, present a memorable 
 example to direct and encourage youth. It 
 seems that an astrologer had drawn his ho- 
 roscope, and had predicted that he would 
 never arrive at opulence. " Thou shalt be 
 rich in honour and in virtue/' were his 
 words, " but you will never possess the 
 goods of fortune." A wonderful account is 
 given of this person in the histories of the 
 time. u It was a little man, black and 
 withered, about sixty years of age, who 
 astonished all the world by the account 
 which he gave of what would happen to 
 every one without ever having had any ac- 
 quaintance with them, and still more after 
 the result which verified his predictions.'* 
 The philosopher will smile at such rela- 
 tions, and will find no difficulty in account- 
 ing for a verified prediction, that riches are 
 not the consequence of virtue. Camoens, 
 in chains at Goa, or at Lisbon, after his 
 return from the Indies, is equally destitute 
 of riches ; but what are the treasures of the 
 East to the immortality of his renown? 
 Don Juan de Castro had not money to re- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 629 
 
 build the fortress which was to save his 
 country, and to be the foundation of his 
 glory, but was he therefore unable to save 
 his country, and to purchase an honour- 
 able fame? his mustachio, as a pledge of 
 honour, was enough for him, and the mer- 
 chants supplied his necessity. Bayard had 
 been for nine years lieutenant-general for 
 the king (the highest office in the French 
 army) and immense ransoms and treasure 
 had passed through his hands, and he left 
 upon his death a revenue not exceeding 
 four hundred livres. Yet was Bayard the 
 object of affection and of honour wherever 
 he was present ; and it would be difficult 
 to produce any desirable object of which 
 his poverty deprived him. So will it for 
 ever be as long as the institution of here- 
 ditary rank, and the sentiments of corres- 
 ponding virtue, distinguish the nations of 
 Europe. At this day, in England, no ac- 
 cumulation of wealth will admit you gene- 
 rally into the houses of men of family, and 
 we may continue to hope that no poverty or 
 outward circumstances will deprive birth of 
 its right, and merit of its honour. 
 
 e e 3 
 
630 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 There is nothing narrow and unworthy 
 in this principle, nothing but what is com- 
 patible with respect in the very highest 
 sense of the term, for merit of every descrip- 
 tion, whether of learning, or genius, or mere 
 attention to the duties of life ; nothing 
 but what is consistent with the most ex- 
 alted notions of freedom ; and with the 
 most overflowing benevolence towards 
 mankind. Who more free from the vanity 
 and ordinary prejudices of the world than 
 Montagne? And yet was he careless of 
 his origin? Far from it, " Je suis nay/' he 
 says, " d'une famille que a coule sans es- 
 clat et sans tumulte et de longue me- 
 moire, particulierement ambitieuse de 
 preud-hommie." Or shall we despise the 
 heroes of the Iliad for their pride of birth ? 
 Let us hear the immortal words with which 
 the son of Hippolochus defies his enemy. 
 
 'I7r7ro\oxo£ tie jjl Itlkte, kcli zk t& (j>r)[ii yeveaOar 
 llsfi7rs 5e [i kg Tpoirjv, kcli fioi fiaka noW k7TETe\\ev t 
 Aiev dpi^tvuv, kcli v7reipox,ov efifievai cxXXlov 
 Mrjde ytvog iraTeptov aiayyvtyW oi fiey' apizoi 
 *Ev t "E<pvpy eyevovro kcli kv AvKiy evpeiy. 
 Tavrrjg rot yeverjg ts kcli aifiarog cu^ojuat ktvai *. 
 
 * II. Z'. 206. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 631 
 
 Turning to the Romans,--how striking is 
 the question of Cicero to Lentulus, who 
 was of the Cornelian family. The seal of 
 that conspirator represented the head of 
 his grandfather. How was it possible, said 
 the Consul, that the view of this venerable 
 image did not prevent you at the moment 
 when you were about to make it the instru- 
 ment of crime? In his oration for C. Ra- 
 birius Postumus, he declares it to be a law 
 of nature, " quae in familia aliqua laus forte 
 floruerit, hanc fere, qui sunt ejusdem stir- 
 pis cupidissime persequantur," which he 
 illustrates by the example of his client, 
 who " quamvis patrem suum numquam vi- 
 derat, tamen et natura ipsa duce, quse plu- 
 rimum valet, et assiduis domesticarum ser- 
 nionibus, in paternse vitse similitudinem de- 
 ductus est." 
 
 Of the glory consequent upon his own 
 triumph over the enemies of his country, 
 he declares that he will leave the inheri- 
 tance to his son, " quae res gesta umquam 
 in bello tanta ? licet enim mihi, Marce fili, 
 apud te gloriari, ad quern et hereditas hujus 
 glorise, et factorum imitatio pertinet." This 
 e e 4 
 
632 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 is not the unpremeditated burst of elo- 
 quence which might be contrary to the dic- 
 tate of his sober thoughts ; but it is a sen- 
 tence, every word and letter of which he had 
 submitted to the examination of his most 
 severe judgment, before it was permitted 
 to be graven on the immortal page of his 
 Offices, that model of profound philosophy 
 and of exquisite refinement, which he in- 
 tended for the instruction and delight of 
 ages then unborn. Again, what an instance 
 is presented by Livy, where he records of 
 Decius # unable to rally his flying soldiers, 
 
 * The atrocious cant of Juvenal, 
 
 Plebeias Deciorum animae, plebeia fuerunt 
 Nomina, &c. &c —Sat. VIII. 2o4. 
 arose from his overlooking the principle which was 
 acknowledged even by the Romans themselves, that to 
 be a true plebeian or churl, something more was ne- 
 cessary than to have been born of obscure parents. 
 Thus Baebius the tribune, in his sage harangue against 
 the conductors of the war with Hannibal, included 
 under the title of nobles or gentry, all who had ob- 
 tained by personal merit or fortune (for he makes no 
 distinction) the respect and friendship of the nobility, 
 saying that there would be no end of the war till 
 " Consulem vere plebeium, id est, hominem novum, 
 (id est, in his acceptation of the term, a man who had 
 never rendered himself worthy of being known to the 
 world) fecissentj ,, and then he adds, what is not a 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 633 
 
 4< patrem P. Decium nomine compellans," 
 and saying, " quid ultra moror familiare 
 
 little amusing, " nam plebeios nobiles jam eisdem ini- 
 tiates esse sacris, et contemn ere plebem, ex quo con- 
 temni desierint a Patribus, coepisse." — Livy XXII. 34. 
 Was that the way to advance their fortune in Rome, if 
 men of talent? Certainly not, and the inference is 
 therefore obvious. The cant of Horace, 
 
 Nil me poeniteat sanum patris hujus, 
 
 may suggest other reflections. I cannot help regard- 
 ing it as an evidence of a base plebeian mind, as ex- 
 pressing an idea which could not have entered into the 
 brain of anv man who was not possessed with the am- 
 bition of a churl. It is proper to remark the sad cor- 
 ruption which at length pervaded the principles of 
 Roman aristocracy — 
 
 quadringentis sex septem millia desint ; 
 
 Plebs eris • 
 
 was a true statement of the institution which then ex- 
 isted among people, similar to what prevails at the 
 present day in America, where the aristocracy of wealth, 
 the most cursed of all pervertions, has been from the 
 first established. i( Nec ulla deformior species est 
 civitatis," says Cicero, de Repub. I. 31. " quam ilia 
 in qua opulentissimi optimi putantur," In late times 
 the equestrian dignity of the Romans depended upon 
 a census made every five years, when all those citizens 
 whose fortunes amounted to 400 sestertia, 3229Z. were 
 enrolled in the list of knights ! ! hence Ovid, <( dat 
 census honores," &c. Fast. I. 217. 
 
 K e 5 
 
634 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 fatum? Datum hoc nostro generi est, ut 
 luendis periculis publicis piacula simus. 
 Jam ego mecum hostium legiones mactan- 
 das Telluri acDiismanibus dabo # ." Again, 
 hear the words of Scipio to his army, " vos 
 modo, milites, favete nomini Scipionum, 
 soboli imperatorum vestrorum, velut ad- 
 cisis recrescenti stirpibus. — Brevi faciam, 
 ut, quemadmodum nunc noscitatis in me 
 patris patruique similitudinem oris vultus- 
 que, et lineamenta corporis : ita ingenii, 
 fidei, virtutisque exemplum expressam ad 
 effigiem vobis reddam, ut revixisse, aut re- 
 natum sibi quisque Scipionem imperatorem 
 dicat # . Sallust attributes the gallant death 
 of Catiline to the remembrance of his an- 
 cestors, " postquam fusas copias, seque 
 cum paucis relictum videt Catilina, memor 
 generis, atque pristinse dignitatis, in con- 
 fertissimos hostes incurrit, ibique pugnans 
 confoditur f " Who does not feel that this 
 
 * Lib. X. 29. f Lib. XXVI. 41. 
 
 J: Let it be remembered that Sallust was of the po- 
 pular party, and that he had distinguished himself by 
 reviling the vices of the nobility with vehemence. It 
 would be quite endless to bring forward testimonies 
 from antiquity in support of this chivalrous principle. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 635 
 
 was the action of a hero ? of one who had 
 some alliance by blood or by virtue, to 
 
 Polybius assigns its abolition as one of the chief causes 
 of the ruin of Carthage. Plato in many places assumes 
 it as the basis of his instruction. In particular, I re- 
 collect a remarkable passage in the third book de Le- 
 gibus. Aristotle admits the principle in its fullest 
 extent. In one place he observes, ?/ tf' kvyeveia Trap' 
 tKccffTOig oikol TijMOQ, *En dioTi fieXriovg tlKOQ TOVQ €K 
 I3e\tiovo)V evyeveia yap tffriv dpern yevovg. Polit. III. 
 13. The same sentiment is continually brought for- 
 ward by the poets, by Homer and the Greek trage- 
 dians. The most eminent of Roman patriots, not ex" 
 cepting even Cato, acknowledged their belief in the 
 influence of generous birth, in elevating the soul, and 
 in filling it with a desire of virtuous deeds. Upon the 
 whole therefore, nothing can be more certain, than 
 that the merit of despising an illustrious descent was 
 unknown to the wisest and most virtuous men of anti- 
 quity. Upon what grounds then do these Frenchmen 
 at the present day, who profess peculiar wisdom and 
 virtue, maintain it as an axiom, that it is a disgrace 
 and a calamity to be of an illustrious family ? It will 
 require no eagle eye to detect the motive which leads 
 these bad men (for " a vile person," says Isaiah, " must 
 no more be called liberal") to adopt this opinion j it 
 follows as a necessary inference from that monstrous 
 system of deceit and wickedness which they have sub- 
 stituted under the name of philosophy for their ancient 
 faith. But I must apologise for having alluded to such 
 a subject, before gentlemen and men of honour. 
 
 E e 6 
 
636 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR 
 
 those who deserved the gratitude and the 
 admiration of mankind ? Certainly it will 
 be impossible for the future historian, to 
 relate the life and actions of the late Ruler 
 of France, (for I must indulge in once al- 
 luding to this extraordinary and unhappy 
 man) and not be continually reminded of 
 his origine. If, like Catiline, he had rushed 
 into the thickest of the enemy, and had 
 died gloriously with his brave friends and 
 soldiers, when all was lost that could make 
 his life dear and honourable, instead of 
 coldly calculating like a metaphysician in 
 his cabinet, the possible advantage that 
 would result from surviving so many heroes, 
 and thus protracting his fate a little longer : 
 — if he had felt and acted like that generous 
 King Arthur, of whose deeds we have so 
 often made mention in this book, who, 
 when " he looked aboute hym, and was 
 ware of al hys hoost and of al his good 
 knyghtes how they were layed to the colde 
 erthe, sayd, Jhesu mercy where are al my 
 noble knyghtes becomen. Alias that ever 
 I shold see thys dolefull day, for now I am 
 come to myn ende. Now gyve me my speere, 
 and albeit Syr Lucan did remember hym of 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 637 
 
 his nights dreame and what the spryte of 
 Syr Gauwayn told hym ; tyde me deth be- 
 tyde me lyf sayth the king, and so rushed 
 against the enemy, and died full nobly as a 
 noble kyng shold," — if, I say, he had thus 
 acted at the close of that battle, than which 
 " for grymme soundes and dedely strokes 
 and shedding of generous blood, there was 
 never seen a more doolfuller in no crysten 
 londe Certes he would then have left an 
 argument against the benefit of a generous 
 birth, far more convincing than all his scorn- 
 ful and proud declamations. Terminating as 
 he did his eventful career, it only remained 
 for him to furnish an opportunity for other 
 men to display virtue, to exercise the mag- 
 nanimity, the generosity, and the tenderness 
 of gentlemen. If it pleased God that other 
 men should overlook this opportunity, no 
 inexplicable mystery to the wise, 
 
 Tu)v 7to\vktovu>v yap 
 Ok aaKOTroi Qeoi *. 
 
 The brave and the generous might shed a 
 tear in contemplating his unrivalled mise- 
 ries. With them sorrow is sacred, 
 
 * iEschylus Agarnem. 446. 
 
638 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 otclv d' avrjp 
 TIpaZy KaKiog viprjXog, tig drjOiav 
 Ultttu KctKuo tov iraXai dvcrdaii.iovog 1 *. 
 
 They might almost fear to look upon such 
 a wreck of human grandeur, might turn 
 away their eyes, " velut ab nefando spec- 
 taculo %" rather than behold the wretched 
 degradation, the humiliating, prostrate, 
 piteous condition of him who once sat en- 
 throned among the mighty of the earth, — 
 this, I say, would be consistent with the 
 spirit of chivalry, here opposed, as in every 
 particular, to the passion of the churl's 
 soul, to that disposition which the Greek 
 poet ascribed to our corrupt nature, saying, 
 
 (Tvyyovov 
 
 BpOTOlGlj TOV 7rSGOVTCt XdKTlGCLl 7rXeOV J. 
 
 But it was not for him to murmur, for him, 
 the foe to chivalry, the breaker of its laws, 
 the derider of its spirit : it was not for him 
 to complain, or to look for virtues, the 
 foundation and support of which he had 
 always laboured to overthrow. 
 
 Let then every class of men be satisfied 
 
 * Eurip. Helen. 417. f Livy, lib. IX. 5. 
 
 X iEschylus Agamem. 869. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 639 
 
 with obtaining that particular recompense 
 which they must previously know has been 
 attached, by an immutable decree, to the 
 labours in which they have severally and 
 voluntarily engaged. Whatsoever a man 
 soweth, that shall he reap. There is no 
 injustice, no illiberality in this ordination. 
 Have they been accumulating riches, with 
 the temper and the feelings which distin- 
 guish the men who love money ? Let them 
 be content with their rank as merchants, 
 with the luxuries and splendour of com- 
 mercial aggrandizement. Let them involve 
 themselves in the fancy of their grandeur, 
 and sit down, repeating that disdainful 
 question, 
 
 Egregium cum me vicinia dicat 
 
 Non credam ! 
 
 Have they laboured in the paths of learn- 
 ing and philosophy, without endeavouring, 
 at the same time, to acquire the heart and 
 the spirit which belong to gentlemen ? 
 Let them be content with the fame of their 
 learning and ability. Let not such persons 
 vainly imagine that while their care and 
 labours have been devoted to other objects, 
 the most glorious of all is to follow, of 
 
640 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 course, as a necessary appendage to these 
 which they acquire. Fatal error ! atrocious 
 supposition ! No, let them be assured that 
 it is not in the power of riches or political 
 influence, not in the power of learning, or 
 mere intellectual ability, to make them 
 gentlemen. Our order is open to all men, 
 to those who are not of gentle blood, if so 
 be that they can attain to the virtues of 
 chivalry, which are the prescribed qualifi- 
 cations. But if, without endeavouring to 
 possess these, " magnu mopus, quis negat ? " 
 they envy and revile our institutions, they 
 only, as it were, create anew the very su- 
 periority which the detest. " Qui invidet 
 minor est," is the proud and noble motto 
 of the house of Cadogan. And as concern- 
 ing those to whom these pages are more 
 immediately addressed, let them study to 
 render themselves worthy of their fortune ; 
 let them not dare to stigmatise as romantic 
 tales and extravagant conceits the fruit of 
 labours which have been undertaken for 
 their service, to remind them of the dignity 
 and the duties of their order, to set before 
 them the lessons imparted to Plato and to 
 Aristotle, revealed to the world by the 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 611 
 
 blessed Gospel, practised by saints and 
 kings, by lawgivers and warriors, by the 
 gentle, the generous, and the brave, of suc- 
 cessive ages, who were the flower of chi- 
 valry, and the glory of the human race. 
 
 Certes, if any there be so blind and har- 
 dened as to act thus, it is right and our 
 bounden duty to assure them that there 
 comes a day, an awful day, when they shall 
 be forced to feel woe unutterable, and foul 
 dishonour, for, as is said by that renowned 
 knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, " Let every 
 man value his owne wisdome as he pleaseth. 
 Let the rich man think all fooles, that can- 
 not equall his abundance ; the revenger 
 esteeme all negligent that have not trodden 
 downe their opposites ; the politician, all 
 grosse that cannot merchandize their faith : 
 yet when we once come in sight of the port 
 of death, to which all w r indes drive us ; and 
 when, by letting fall that fatall anchor, 
 which can never be weighed againe, the 
 navigation of this life takes end ; then it 
 is, I say, that our owne cogitations (those 
 sad and severe cogitations formerly beaten 
 from us by our health and felicity,) returne 
 
642 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 againe and pay us to the uttermost, for all 
 the pleasing passages of our lives past. It 
 is then that we crie out to God for mercy, 
 and it is only then that we are strucken 
 through the soule with this terrible sen- 
 tence, that God will not be mocked." Let 
 us pray to God, in the sublime language of 
 our Church, that he may " give us grace 
 to cast away the works of darkness, and to 
 put upon us the armour of light/' to adorn 
 by our religion and our virtues, by our 
 loyalty and our unspotted honour, by our 
 independance and our heroism, that birth- 
 right which we must transmit to our pos- 
 terity, that hereditary office of being fore- 
 most among the servants and warriors of 
 Christ, that title, that emblem of our ho- 
 nour, which if not our only, must be our 
 proudest inheritance. 
 
 Here is the end of the whole book of the 
 IStOalJ £tOXXe Of ^O1i0Ut, and here is 
 the end of the writer's labour. " More than 
 conqueror," is the motto prefixed to this 
 book, and these are words which will be 
 applicable to every person who has profited 
 by its contents. Hours indeed there are of 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 643 
 
 despondency, when the sentiments which 
 were once admired appear too contrary to 
 the ordinary feelings and opinion of man- 
 kind ; when we are disposed to doubt their 
 justice, and perhaps to be ashamed of our 
 former approval ; when it almost occurs to 
 the wandering imagination that hope and 
 virtue are but a dream ; when even the wise 
 man is to say in his heart, " there is no 
 God." " Quis enim est/' exclaims Erasmus, 
 in one of his most beautiful and affecting 
 epistles, u cui non interdum obrepat moeror 
 ac tsedium quoddam intuenti mala quibus 
 hisce temporibus undique plena sunt om- 
 nia? Quis tarn confirmatus spiritu, cujus 
 animum in tantis opinionum dissidiis non 
 perstringat aliqua tentatio ?" And the 
 reader who is conversant with the events 
 and opinions of the chivalrous ages, will 
 easily recollect instances in which virtue 
 had to endure the opposition of prejudice. 
 The fears and distrust of the young page, 
 Jean de Saintre, which were confessed with 
 such simplicity to the lady who took pains 
 to instruct him ; and the difficulty which 
 was opposed to Sir Balin of Northumber- 
 
644 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 land, in his first adventure, as related in 
 the history of King Arthur, will serve as 
 examples, to prove that merit, even in the 
 age of knights and men of honour, was ob- 
 noxious to the tyranny of vulgar opinion. 
 But upon these occasions, the same les- 
 son of wisdom presents itself in every age. 
 " Indue magni viri animum et ab opinioni- 
 bus vulgi secede paulisper." Who is a 
 gentleman or man of honour, and elevated 
 virtue ? He will find a portrait of himself 
 in Cicero. " Quam contemnet, quam des- 
 piciet, quam pro nihilo putabit ea, quae 
 vulgo dicuntur amplissima # V He will 
 discover the same in Seneca. " Nunquam 
 volui populo placere, quis enim placere po- 
 test populo, cui placet virtus ?" Alluding 
 not to the lower orders of mankind, but to 
 the vulgar : 
 
 " Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise, 
 His lot who dares be singularly good." 
 
 Metellus was recalled from exile by de- 
 cree of the people. He was found at the 
 celebration of the games, at Tralle, in 
 
 * De Legibus, 1. 22. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 645 
 
 Lydia, and he left the letter unopened till 
 they were concluded. If we search deeper 
 still into antiquity, the same character a 
 great man will present itself. " 'Aw* iytofi 
 says Socrates, u ov rovro ^earm o Soxsi rois 
 TtoKkois xoihov elvcti, dXX* on iariv Where 
 was the poet's confidence when exposed to 
 the persecution of a tyrant ? It was in his 
 genius. 
 
 Caesar in hoc potuit juris habere nihil. 
 
 Where did the sweet bard of gentle deeds 
 find refreshment and strength ? It was in 
 the fairy land of his imagination. Here too 
 the man of virtue and religion may find a 
 place for his weary soul. To these pages, 
 rich with the record of honour and of gran- 
 deur, proudly adorned with the images of 
 the great, he may retire from the infection 
 of a base multitude, and feast in the com- 
 pany of kings ; and here too I, like him of 
 old, who sung, 
 
 Nigh ravisht with rare thought's delight, 
 
 My tedious travel do forget thereby, 
 And when I 'gin to feel decay of might 
 It strength to me supplies, and chears my dulled 
 spright. 
 
 * Plato Hippias Major. 
 
646 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Or have we endured intervals of still 
 more acute suffering ? Convinced of the 
 justice, have we doubted the final issue of 
 the cause which we love ? Yes, moments 
 there are in the life of man, when " the 
 mind succumbs to long infection when 
 even the heart of the brave will fail, and 
 the spirits and the hopes of generous men 
 will sink under the pressure of the sad rea- 
 lities of human life. 
 
 So the struck deer, in some sequest'red part, 
 Lies down to die, the arrow in his heart. 
 Beholds unmov'd the springs of life decay, 
 Bleeds drop by drop, and sighs his soul away. 
 
 It was in such an hour, that Burke con- 
 templated the event of the French Revolu- 
 tion. With what feelings had he thought 
 upon the circumstances and events of the 
 passing scene ? And how was he over- 
 whelmed with perfect misery of heart when 
 he looked forward to the future ? " It 
 is now sixteen or seventeen years since I 
 saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphi- 
 ness, at Versailles ; and surely never light- 
 ed on this orb, which she hardly seemed 
 to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 647 
 
 her just above the horizon, decorating and 
 cheering the elevated sphere she just began 
 to move in ; glittering like the morning 
 star, full of life, and splendour, and joy. 
 Oh, what a revolution ! And what a heart 
 must I have to contemplate, without emo- 
 tion, that elevation and that fall ! Little 
 did I dream, that when she added titles of 
 veneration, to those of enthusiastic, distant, 
 respectful love, that she should ever be 
 obliged to carry the sharp antidote against 
 disgrace concealed in that bosom ; little did 
 I dream that I should have lived to see such 
 disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gal- 
 lant men, in a nation of men of honour and 
 of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords 
 must have leaped from their scabbards, to 
 avenge even a look that threatened her with 
 insult : but the age of chivalry is gone ! 
 That of sophisters, ceconomists, and calcu- 
 lators has succeeded ; and the glory of Eu- 
 rope is extinguished for ever." Alas ! who 
 shall number the sorrows that await in this 
 short life the best and the most wise of 
 men ? What a familiar example have we 
 in the affliction of Sir Launcelot, when he 
 
648 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 hears the tidings of Sir Gawayn's death ? 
 " Fayr Sirs," sayd Syr Launcelot, " shewe 
 me the tombe of Syr Gawayn, and than cer- 
 teyn peple of the towne brougt hym into 
 the castel of Dover, and shewed him the 
 tombe. Than Syr Launcelot knelyd down 
 and wepte, and prayed hertelye for his 
 soule, and Syr Launcelot laye two nyghtes 
 on his tombe in prayers and wepyng and 
 again, when we see him deprived of those 
 who were all his " erthely joye," Syr Laun- 
 celot swouned and laye longe stylle whyle 
 the heremyte came and awakyd him, and 
 sayd, ye be to blame, for ye dyspleyse Ged 
 wyth suche manere of sorowe makynge. 
 Truely, sayde Syre Launcelot, I truste I 
 doo not dyspleyse Ged, for he knoweth myn 
 entent. For my sorowe was not, nor is not 
 for ony rejoycing of synne, but my sorowe 
 may never have ende. For whan I remem- 
 bre and call to mynde her beaute, bountee, 
 and noblesse, that was as wel wyth her 
 kyng my lord Arthur, as wyth her. And 
 also whanne I saw the corses of that noble 
 kynge and noble quene so lye togyder in 
 that cold grave made of erthe, that som- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 649 
 
 tyme were so hyghly sette in moost ho- 
 nourable places, truly myn herte wolde not 
 serve me to susteyne my wretchyd and care- 
 full body." 
 
 But, O the exceeding grace of highest 
 God ! to ordain that there should be a 
 speedy termination to these intervals of 
 human woe ! Such is his decree. The mind, 
 however depressed, will soon rise to its for- 
 mer elevation : it will regain that wonderful 
 elasticity, which no despair or pressure of 
 circumstances can permanently overcome. 
 
 w Omnia deficiunt : animus tamen omnia vincit *." 
 
 and even when God, in the wisdom of his 
 providence, shall think fit to order that 
 these ordinary provisions of mercy should 
 fail his servants, through the decay of their 
 bodily strength, and the privation of their 
 earthly joy, they have, through his un- 
 speakable love, a bright prospect to cheer 
 them, and a hope of glory. In this world 
 we may have tribulation; we may weep 
 over the hapless condition of the human 
 
 * Ovid, ex Pont. II. 
 F f 
 
650 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 race, and be tempted, when we look no 
 farther, to think that the end and design 
 of God's creation is, upon the matter, frus- 
 trated and defeated. " But then, on the 
 other side," observes Bishop Bull, " we are 
 to consider that there have been a remnant 
 of men, in every age, that have yielded to 
 and been recovered by the grace of God, 
 who shall glorify him, and be glorified by 
 him to eternal ages. Which though com- 
 pared to the rest of mankind that have pe- 
 rished in their own folly, they are but very 
 few, yet taken by themselves, and all to- 
 gether, make up a vast body of men. God 
 of his infinite mercy grant that we ourselves 
 may be of that blessed number. And we 
 may further consider the number of the 
 holy angels who surround k the ancient of 
 days, sitting upon his throne, thousand 
 thousands ministering unto him, and ten 
 thousand times ten thousand standing be- 
 fore him/ When therefore we are troubled 
 and offended to see how ill things go here 
 below ; how vice triumphs, and virtue is 
 discountenanced, disgraced, and trampled 
 upon ; how the great and good God is dis- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 651 
 
 honoured and affronted, and his laws dis- 
 regarded and despised by the generality of 
 men ; what a vast train of miserably de- 
 luded and self-deluding mortals the prince 
 of darkness draws after him into utter 
 perdition; let us then look upwards, and 
 view the heavenly regions above us, where 
 millions of millions of holy angels dwell. 
 There the kingdom of God is in its glory; 
 there virtue shines in its full lustre and 
 brightness ; there is no sin, no disorder ; 
 there all things go as the great Creator 
 would have them. And at the consumma- 
 tion of all things, the whole number of 
 faithful men of all ages, from the begin- 
 ning of the world, shall be added to the 
 society of good angels, and made like unto 
 them; and both together make up one 
 church perfectly triumphant ; all wicked 
 men and angels being finally subdued, and 
 there shall be new heavens and a new earth 
 wherein righteousness shall dwell. — What 
 a mighty support and comfort will this be 
 to us, if our consciences bear witness to 
 our integrity in all dangers, distresses, and 
 necessities ; yea, in our last extremity, and 
 f f 2 
 
652 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 in the hour of death ? For the good angels 
 of God shall go along with us in the whole 
 course of our lives, never leaving us till 
 they have safely landed us in a happy eter- 
 nity. When we are in our extreme agony, 
 these blessed spirits shall minister to us, 
 as they did to our Saviour in his ; and when 
 we breathe out our last, they shall watch 
 our souls, that the wicked one may not 
 touch them, and shall safely convey them 
 into Abraham's bosom, where we shall be 
 out of all danger for ever." 
 
 Where then is the power that shall dis- 
 courage your efforts, or shake your resolu- 
 tion ? Is it the reasoning of men who would 
 represent the duty of consulting expediency 
 rather than virtue ; who attempt to disse- 
 minate that most baneful pestilence # , the 
 opinion that these can be separated for a 
 moment ; who endeavour to expose the in- 
 utility of what is admirable? But what 
 need of other reply than that triumphant 
 exclamation, " O how I love inutility." 
 An answer which may not indeed satisfy 
 
 * Cicero de Off. lib. ii. 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 653 
 
 the ordinary critic of human conduct, but 
 which will be comprehended and approved 
 of by every man who has risen above the 
 level of the vulgar, either in speculation or 
 in action. Is it their resolution to disbe- 
 lieve the accounts which are upon record of 
 illustrious actions? But you have the his- 
 torian's principle to justify a belief even in 
 what is questionable. " Let us have faith 
 in fine actions," says M. de la Cretelle, 
 " and let us reserve doubt and incredulity 
 for bad # ." Is it their ungenerous insinua- 
 tion, that all virtue is but delusion ; that 
 heroes were in fact cowards, and saints no 
 wiser or more virtuous than the vulgar class 
 of mankind ; that the worthies of old were 
 only successful deceivers ; that " the salt 
 of the earth" was but hypocrisy. But what 
 gentleman, what Christian, or man of vir- 
 tue, will deign to deny such base positions, 
 when the reply is provided M it is better to 
 be deceived than to distrust." " Satius 
 est decipi quam diffidere." Is it their in- 
 sulting invitation to surrender, in defer- 
 
 * " Ayons delafoi pour les belles actions, et reser- 
 vous le doute et Pincredulite pour les mauvaises." 
 F f 3 
 
654 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ence to their superior sagacity, that van- 
 tage ground of Christian faith and honour, 
 which the wisest of heathen men have vainly 
 sighed but to behold ; and " where kings 
 from their humbler thrones may gaze upon 
 you with reverence ?" What other reply 
 more becoming, than the exclamation of 
 the Church? " Quis separabit V< From these 
 elevated sentiments of honour and Chris- 
 tianity, from these hopes full of present 
 and everlasting happiness, who shall sepa- 
 rate you? Is it a world whose hatred is 
 the inheritance of great men, and the ear- 
 nest of their future renown ? Whose friend- 
 ship has been pronounced to be enmity 
 with God? Is it the distrustful ejacula- 
 tion ? 
 
 — -From the tongue 
 
 Of nations wanting virtue to be strong, 
 Up to the measure of accorded might, — 
 And daring not to feel the majesty of right ! 
 
 " Quis separabit ?" Shall tribulation, or 
 distress, or persecution, or famine, or 
 nakedness, or peril, or sword ? Nay, in all 
 these things you are "more- than con- 
 queror/' But remember what is added, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 655 
 
 ha, rov dyxTrmaccvros ^pwer, " through him that 
 loved us." 
 
 Schiller was asked some hours before 
 his death, how he found himself. " More 
 and more tranquil/' was his reply. More 
 than conqueror. 
 
 " In fine my goodness yields to my just 
 resentment. Adore these gods, or die," 
 cries Felix, to the Christian confessor. 
 How sublime is the reply ! 
 
 " I am a Christian." 
 
 iC Adore them, impious wretch, or forfeit 
 life." 
 
 " I am a Christian." 
 
 " Are you so indeed ? Soldiers, execute 
 the orders which I have given." " Where 
 do you conduct him ?" cries the attendant. 
 u To death." « To glory !" exclaims the 
 conqueror. 
 
 Remember, that this uniform consistency 
 of character you are expected to display. 
 So that what Cicero celebrates as a pecu- 
 liar instance of Cato's felicity, may be ap- 
 plicable to you, " none having ever dared 
 to ask any thing of him which was disho- 
 nourable." What a testimony is that rest- 
 f f 4 
 
(i56 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 ing upon the same principle which Sir John 
 Froissart produces, to the unbending virtue 
 of the French King John, when, in record- 
 ing the treason of Sir Amerey of Lumbard, 
 who sold the town of Calais to the Lord 
 Geffray Charney, of France, he concludes 
 by observing, " I thynke he never made 
 the Frenche kyng of knowledge therof : 
 for if he had I trowe the kyng wold nat a 
 consented therto bycause of the truse?" 
 In like manner it should be the pride of 
 every gentleman, that his profession and 
 character are notorious to the world ; that 
 both are so inseparably associated with the 
 ideas of virtue, honour, and Christian faith, 
 in the minds of men, that whenever these 
 qualities are named, his image should be 
 present to their recollection. This is no- 
 thing speculative or impossible. When it 
 was related, in an assembly of the Greeks, 
 that a good man did not desire to appear, 
 but to be virtuous, instantly the whole mul- 
 titude looked at Aristides, " xai Xsyo^sv^v 
 tstouv," says Plutarch, " Ttowrzs sU 'A^jTet- 
 Sojv a«reCXG\J/Gv." This sublime example, so 
 worthy of our faith, so replete with in- 
 
THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 657 
 
 struction and encouragement in the path of 
 honour, has presented itself as a natural 
 and proper termination to these sheets. 
 
 &nb noto, gentle reaber, fjabing 00 
 long presnmeb to occupg tbat time 
 tBffici) if of sucft importance to sou anb 
 to msself, sitben tfje ese of our ©ob 10 
 aye upon us, anii for ttje bue employ- 
 ment of bis gifts b)e sball babe to ren= 
 tier an account to f)im our ^obereign 
 florb, toben be sball come again in 
 bis glorious majests to jubgebotbtbe 
 auiflt ante beab, toijat remains but to 
 enb tbts noble anb joyous booft roitb 
 sue!) plain toorbs as cbtbalrous stm= 
 P licit),) anb ancient gobltness moults 
 uiisels btctate* i*las sou possess a 
 beart tljat can feel tbem, a taste tbat 
 totll prefer tbem to all false refine* 
 ment anb beceitful sbeto of man's abi= 
 lits, a minb tbat mill seefe instruction 
 anb peace from tbe mtsbom uifjicb is 
 from ©ob. <© tftat tbe poet mere not 
 jnst in saving, tftat tbis is noto an age 
 of selfisb mem t(jat life is brest for 
 
 F f5 
 
658 THE BROAD STONE OF HONOUR. 
 
 sf)eto, tofjile tfie great ebents toitfj 
 iofjief) ola storp rings* seem batn anti 
 tjolloio i © tfiat tf)e boiee of f)is ge= 
 mus mat) raise us up again anti gibe 
 us btrtue, tfjat abartee anti expense 
 may fie no more atioreti, fiut plain 
 liking ftig?) tfunfcing lie again our 
 gioti) I I prap gou all, gentlemen anti 
 gentlewomen, tfiat reati ttjis fioofe from 
 tf)e Beginning to tlje entiing, pra# for 
 a messing upon a toorfc tiestgneti for 
 #o3Ts gloru anti for tf)e gooti of man's 
 estate ; anti out of tfje gentleness anti 
 uteres? of pour ©rtier, anti out of tfte 
 spirit of Christian lobe, tf)e fatrest 
 fiotoer of gour fjoli? faitij, eommenti 
 me, telio fjabe Been permitteti to eom* 
 plete it, to aimigfttt) €£oti, ttjat tie mag 
 sen& me gootr tieliberanee tof)ile £ am 
 alibe, anti toljen I am tieati anti m» 
 fiotij) lain to tfje eolti eatlf), tofjen tfje 
 tsarftness of age anti beat?) sfjall f)abe 
 eobereb ober Botf) tins 600ft anti me, 
 tfjat tfjrougi) <&ob's <&raee mv soule 
 mat) ^ttter f)is paratitse* E pra» gott 
 all, if £ou fjear neber more of me, 
 
THE BROAD STONE OP HONOUR. 659 
 
 prav for my soule. €i)t# t»oofc *oas 
 eniieii in tf)e iFtifr seat of t&e reign 
 of Ittng <©eorge tf>e ^fFouttt), *t> I*e= 
 nelnt Dtgfiy, <&$mive, as 3Hw»u f)elp 
 f)im u>ttt) t)t0 great mtgftt, as ije is tije 
 seroantof SDesn ootf> frag anH nigftt 
 
/ 
 
P. 41. M Fais-toi chretien et je te ferai cheva* 
 Her.'] " Quant le Roy ouyt celui Sarrazin parler 
 Francois," says Joinville of Louis IX. when he 
 was accosted by the rich renegade, 11 il lui de- 
 manda, qui le lui avoit aprins. Et il respondit au 
 Roy, qu'il estoit chrestien regnoye. Et inconti- 
 nent le Roy lui dist, qu'il se tirast a part hors de 
 devant lui, et qu'il ne parler oit plus a lui." The 
 distinction which Joinville has recorded between 
 the preuhomme and the preudomme, will prove in 
 a striking manner the opinion of the chivalrous 
 age, that a deep sense of religion was essential to 
 a gentleman. He is describing the character of 
 of Hugues, due de Bourgoigne : " II fut moult 
 bon chevalier de sa main, et chevallereux. Mais 
 il ne fut oncques tenu a saige, ne a. Dieu, ne au 
 monde. Et bien y apparut en ses faitz devant 
 dictz. Et de lui dist le grant Roy Phelippe, 
 quant il scent que le Conte Jehan de Chalons avoit 
 
662 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 en ung filz qui avoit nom Hugues : Dieu le vueille 
 faire preuhomme, et preudomme. Car grant dif- 
 ference disoit estre entre preuhomme et preu- 
 domme , et que maint chevalier y avoit entre les 
 chrestiens et entre les Sarrazins, qui estoient assez 
 preux, maiz ilz n'estoient pas preudommes. Car 
 ilz ne craignoient ne amoient Dieu aucunement. 
 Et disoit, que grant grace faisoit Dieu a ung che- 
 valier, quant il avoit ce bien, que par ses faitz il 
 estoit appelle preuhomme et preudomme. Mais 
 celui, dont nous avons dit cy-devant, povoit bien 
 estre appelle preuhomme, par ce qu'il estoit preux 
 et hardy de son corps, mais non point de s'ame. 
 Car il ne craignoit point a pecher, ne a mespran- 
 dre en vers Dieu." 
 
 P. 44. Incapable of comprehending an age of 
 simplicity^ May we not produce in confirma- 
 tion of this statement, the following passage from 
 the pen of a very learned French writer of the 
 present day ? " Louis IX. repetait souvent qu'il 
 consentirait a passer toute sa vie dans un cachot 
 sans voir le soleil, si, a ce prix, le roi de Tunis se 
 convertissait avec tout son peuple ; expression 
 d'un prosely tisme ardent qu'on a blame avec amer- 
 tume ; mais qui, au fond, ne montrait que V extreme 
 desir de voir VA frique arrachee a la barbarie, et 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 663 
 
 marcher avec V Europe vers le progres des lumieres 
 et de la civilisation, bien-faits du christianisme ! /" 
 Thus we have Scotch and English writers " floun- 
 dering in the darkness of sense and materiality," 
 proclaiming in their " views of society," the igno- 
 rance of " the dark ages !" 
 
 P. 50. The Templar s.~\ After an interval of 
 five hundred years since the abolition of the order 
 of the Templars, when upon an impartial review 
 of the accusations and evidence brought against 
 it, the judgment of history has pronounced it to 
 have been innocent, a new and very formidable 
 adversary has arisen in M. Hammer, whose most 
 curious and learned dissertation, entitled, " Mys- 
 terium Baphometi revelatum," &c. forming part 
 of the sixth volume of the periodical work Fund- 
 gruben des Orients, &c. published at Vienna, 
 1818, has been reviewed, and the charges, let us 
 hope, sufficiently refuted by M. Raynouard, in his 
 work, " sur la condemnation des Templiers." For 
 my part, I feel disposed to take the high ground 
 upon which Michaud, very properly as I conceive, 
 meets the question. After declaring, torn. iv. p. 
 501. that he has discovered nothing either in the 
 eastern or western chronicles, which could at all 
 support the charges or even give rise to the sus- 
 
664 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 picion which might have suggested them, he pro- 
 ceeds to say, " comment croire en effet qu'un ordre 
 guerrier et religieux qui, vingt ans auparavant, 
 avait vu trois cents de ses chevaliers, se faire 
 egorger sur les mines de Saphet, plutot que d'em- 
 brasser la foi de Mahomet, que cet ordre qui 
 s'etait enseveli presque tout entier sous les ruines 
 de Ptolemais, put avoir contracte* une alliance avec 
 les infideles, outrage la religion chretienne par 
 d'horribles blasphemes, et livre aux Sarrasins la 
 Terre-Sainte, toute remplie de ses exploits et de 
 sa gloire militaire." 
 
 P. 52. The same fidelity.'] Gauthier de Brienne 
 being made prisoner by the infidels at the battle 
 of Gaza, was led by them before his own city of 
 Jaffa, which they hoped would surrender at his 
 desire. He was fastened to a cross, and exposed 
 to the view of the garrison, and threatened with 
 death if they made any resistance ; but he loudly 
 exhorted them to hold out to the last. " It is 
 your duty," he cried, " to defend a Christian city : 
 it is mine to die for you and for Jesus Christ." 
 
 P, 70. Decorum.'] The opinion of the brave 
 Joinville upon this subject is strikingly evinced 
 where he relates the following event which took 
 place upon the eve of the battle of Mansourah. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 665 
 
 " Le jour devant Caresmeprenant, je vis une chose 
 que je vueil bien racompter. Car celui jour mou- 
 rut un tres-vaillant, preux, et hardy chevalier, 
 qui avoit nom Messire Hugues de Landricourt, 
 qui estoit avec moy a banniere : et fut enterre en 
 ma chapelle. Et ainsi que je oyoie Messe, six 
 de mes chevalier estoient la appuiez sur des sacs 
 d'orge, qui estoient en madite chappelle ; et par- 
 loient hault Tun a l'autre, et faisoient ennuy au 
 Prestre qui chantoit Messe. Et je me leve, et 
 leur alle dire qu'ils se teussent et que c* estoit chose 
 villaine ct Gentils-hommes, de parler ainsi hault 
 tandis qyUon chantoit la Messe. Et ilz comman- 
 cerent a rire, et me disdrent, qu'ilz parloient en- 
 semble de remarier la femme d'icelui Messire 
 Hugues, qui estoit la en bierre. Et de ce je les 
 reprins durement, et leur dis que telles paroles 
 n'estoient bonnes, ne belles; et qu'ilz avoient 
 trop toust oublie leur compaignon. Or advint-il, 
 que le lendemain, qui fut la grant bataille, dont 
 j'ay devant parle, du jour de Caresmeprenant. 
 Car on se pouvoit bien rire de leur follie, et en 
 fist Dieu telle vengeance que de tous les six n'en 
 eschappa pas ung, qu'ilz ne feussent tuez, et non 
 point enterrez, et eu la fin a convenu a leurs 
 femmes leur remarier toutes six. Parquoy est a 
 
666 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 croire, que Dieu ne laisse rien impugny de son 
 malfait." 
 
 P. 91. A chasser aux oiseauxJ] An old his- 
 torian says, that the private chapel of Louis IX. 
 " etait son arsenal contre toutes les traverses du 
 monde." 
 
 P. 194. And valour.'] It would have been an 
 unnecessary delay to have adduced instances to 
 prove the valour of the ancient knights. The 
 testimony of Joinville to the personal heroism of 
 Louis IX. may be sufficient. " Soiez certains, 
 que le bon Roy fist celle journee des plus grans 
 faiz d'armes que j'amais j'aye veu faire en toutes 
 les batailles ou je fu oncq. Et dh>on, que si 
 n'eust este sa personne, en celle journee nous 
 eussions este tous perduz et destruiz. Mais je 
 croy que la vertu et puissance qu'il avoit luy 
 doubla lors de moitie par la puissance de Dieu. 
 Car il se boutoit ou meilleu, la ou il veoit ses 
 gens en destresse, et donnoit de masses et d'espee 
 des grans coups a merveilles. Et me conterent 
 ung jour le sire de Courtenay et Messire Jehan 
 de Salenay, que six Turcs vindrent au Roy celuy 
 jour et le prendrent par le frain de son cheval, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 667 
 
 et 1'emmenoient a force. Mais le vertueux Prince 
 s'esvertue de tout son povoir et de si grant cou- 
 rage frappoit sur ces six Turcs, que lui seul se 
 delivra. ,, The astonishment of the infidels at the 
 valour of the Christian knights gave rise to the 
 most surprising relations. Thus we read in the 
 German chronicle of EbendorfFeri de Haselbach. 
 " Sicque Soldanus quadraginta diebus et noctibus 
 acies dirigit in civitatem, in quorum intervallo 
 Soldano quondam magnam admirationem movit 
 cur Christiani crebro pauci numero magnum in 
 bello devincunt et prosternunt Sarracenorum ex- 
 ercitum ? Cui quidam paganus respondit, non 
 mirum : quia ego quodam prospexi die, quando 
 Christiani ceciderunt in praelio quod in uno cor- 
 pore duo latuerunt homines, et uno moriente 
 adstiterint eidem decori juvenes, qui ex ejus ore 
 susceperunt venustum puerulum." The heroic 
 action of Guillaume de Clermont has been re- 
 corded in the History of the Capture of Ptole- 
 mais, though it does little but illustrate the com- 
 mon spirit of the ancient heroes. In the midst 
 of the general ruin he, alone, defied the enemy. 
 At the gate of St. Antony he met the charge of 
 the Saracens, and fought them till he had re- 
 treated to the centre of the city. " Son dextrier," 
 says an old historian, " fut molt las et lui-meme 
 
668 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 aussi ; le dextrier resista en contre les esperons, 
 et s'arresta dans le rue comme qui n'en peut plus. 
 Les Sarrasins, a coups de fleches, tuerent a terre 
 frere Guillaume ainsi ce loyal champion de Jesus 
 Christ rendit Tame a son Createur." The Castle 
 of the Templars was the only place which held 
 out against the Saracens. The Sultan having 
 granted a capitulation, sent three hundred mussul- 
 men to execute the treaty. They had hardly en- 
 tered one of the towers when they insulted the 
 women who had there taken refuge. The Chris- 
 tian warriors fell upon these wretches, and mas- 
 sacred them in a moment. The Sultan, in con- 
 sequence, gave orders that the castle should be 
 attacked, and that all within it should be put to 
 the sword. The Templars defended themselves 
 for many days, till at length the tower of the 
 grand master being undermined, fell to the 
 ground at the moment when the mussulmen were 
 mounting to the assault, and both the assailants 
 and the besieged were buried under the ruins. 
 
 P. 221. Until they should procure a benefice^ 
 When Louis IX. approached Sidon, he found the 
 dead bodies of the Christians, who had been 
 lately massacred by the Turcomans, remaining in 
 heaps, still exposed and putrid. At this spec- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 669 
 
 tacle the king stopped, and desired the legate to 
 consecrate a place for burial : he then commanded 
 that the bodies should be interred. Instead of 
 obeying, every one turned aside in horror. Then 
 Louis dismounted from his horse, and taking up 
 with his hands one of the dead bodies, " allons, 
 mes amis," he cried, " allons donner un peu de 
 terre aux martyrs de Jesus Christ." The king's 
 example inspired his attendants with courage and 
 charity, and these poor slaughtered Christians 
 received the rites of burial. 
 
 P. 255. Upon the Templars.'] Joinville re- 
 lates another instance of the same kind. " Or 
 saichez que le Soaldan donnoit de chascune teste 
 de chrestien, a qui la lui portoit, ung besant d'or. 
 Et ces traistres Sarrazins entroient la nuyt en 
 nostre ost, et la ou ils trouvoient des gens de Tost 
 dormans 9a et la, leur coupoient la teste. Et 
 advrnt qu'ilz tuerent la guette du Seigneur de 
 Courtenay, et en emporterent la teste, et laisse- 
 rent le corps gisant sur une table." 
 
 P. 269. To social life.] The scrupulous de- 
 licacy of the ancient knights was, in some in- 
 stances, carried to an extent that seems almost 
 incredible to men of the present age. When 
 
670 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Louis IX. was preparing for the crusade, his 
 piety did not disdain having recourse to an artifice 
 for the purpose of securing the assistance of the 
 French nobles. It was an ancient custom, upon 
 great festivals, that the King of France should 
 give to those persons who appeared at court, cer- 
 tain cloaks or capes, with which they immediately 
 adorned themselves. These, from being thus de- 
 livered, were termed liveries, Louis gave orders 
 that at the feast of Christmas a great number of 
 these liveries should be prepared, to which an 
 embroidered cross was to be attached. When 
 the moment arrived every one wrapped round 
 him the mantle presented, and without perceiving 
 the artifice, followed the King to his chapel ; 
 what was their astonishment when, by the light 
 of the tapers, they perceived, first upon those 
 who stood before them, and then upon them- 
 selves, the sign of an engagement to set out for 
 the Holy Land ! Such, however, was their cha- 
 racter, that they never thought of refusing to 
 obey. After service, we are told, by Mathieu 
 Paris, the courtiers began to laugh at the cunning 
 of the dextrous fisher of men, and they took the 
 oath to follow him to Asia. 
 
 P. 288. The Persians leaped into the sea.~\ 
 What a contrast is presented, if we take the ex- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 671 
 
 ample of Louis IX. when returning from Asia, 
 and in danger of shipwreck off the island of Cy- 
 prus. The vessel had struck upon a sand bank, 
 and the pilots were persuading the king to leave 
 it with the royal family, but the heroic charity, 
 the Christian spirit of the king refused to coun- 
 tenance a measure which would dishearten and 
 endanger the other passengers. "II n'y a per- 
 sonne ceans," said he, " qui n'aime autant son 
 corps comme je fais le mien ; si une fois je de- 
 scends, ils descendront aussi, et de long-temps ne 
 reverront leur pays ; j'aime mieux mettre moi, la 
 reine et mes enfants en la main de Dieu, que de 
 faire tel dommage a un si grand peuple comme il 
 y a ceans." 
 
 P. 489. The theological balance of the schools.'} 
 But the good sense and simple faith of plain men 
 of honour, or that which De Maistre terms f le 
 bon sens militaire," will be an excellent preser- 
 vative against the heresies and mistakes of spe- 
 culative doctors. Take, as an instance, the fol- 
 lowing passage from the pen of the Sire de Join- 
 ville, " ad ce propoux des Beduns, je dy que 
 j'ay veu depuis mon retour d'oultre mer aucuns 
 portans le nom de Chrestien qui tiennent la loy 
 des Beduns. Car sont aucuns qui disent, que 
 
672 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 nul ne peut mourir que a ung jour determine, 
 sans aucune faille, qui est une chose faulce. Car 
 autant je estime telle creance, comme s'ilz vou- 
 loient dire, que Dieu n'eust point de puissance 
 de nous mal faire ou aider, et de nous eslonger 
 ou abregier les vies, qui est une chose heretique. 
 Mais au contraire, je dy que en lui devons nous 
 croire, et qu'il est tout puissant et a povoir de 
 toutes choses faire : et ainsi de nous envoier la 
 mort toust ou tard a son bon plaisir. Qui est le 
 contraire de la creance des Beduns, qui disent 
 leur jour de mort estre determine sans faille et 
 sans qu'il soit possible qu'il puisse estre eslongne 
 ne abrege." 
 
 P. 439. Sirs kcii oivow to yap, /j,evog Ictti kcii oXkij*] 
 The reader can hardly fail to be delighted with 
 the following picture of chivalrous hospitality : 
 " And thenne felle there a thonder and a rayne, 
 as heven and erthe shold goo to gyder. And Syr 
 Gareth was not lytyl wery, for of all that day he 
 had but lytel rest, neyther his hors nor he. So 
 this Syr Gareth rode soo longe in the forest untyl 
 the nyghte came. And ever it lyghtned and 
 thondred as it had been woode. At the last by 
 fortune he came to a castel, and there he herd 
 the waytes upon the wallys. Thenne Syr Gareth 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 673 
 
 rode unto the barbycan of the castle, and praid 
 the porter fayr to lete hym into the castel. The 
 porter answered ungoodely ageyne, and saide, 
 thow getest no lodgyng here. Fayr syr, say not 
 soo, for I am a knyghte of Kyng Arthurs, and 
 pray the lord or the lady of this castel to gyve me 
 herberow for the love of Kynge Arthur. Thenne 
 the porter wente unto the duchesse, and told her 
 how there was a knyghte of Kyng Arthurs wold 
 have herberowe. Lete hym in, said the duchesse, 
 for I wille see that knyghte. And for Kyng Ar- 
 thurs sake he shalle not be herberoules. Thenne 
 she yode up in to a toure over the gate with 
 grete torche lyght." And after some conference 
 with the knight, when he engaged to yield him- 
 self prisoner to her lord, the Duke de la Rouse, 
 if he should appear and mean to do him no harm, 
 or else to release himself with his spear and 
 sword, " ye say wel, said the duchesse, and thenne 
 she lete the drawe brydge doune, and soo he 
 rode in to the halle, and there he alyghte, and 
 his hors was ledde in to a stable, and in the halle 
 he unarmed hym, and saide, madame, I will not 
 oute of thys halle thys nyghte. And when it is 
 daye lyght lete see who wil have adoo with me, 
 he shall fynde me redy. Thenne was he sette 
 unto souper, and had many good dysshes ; thenne 
 G g 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 Syr Gareth lyst wel to ete, and knyghtely he ete 
 bis mete and egerly, there was many a fair lady 
 by hym, and some said they never sawe a good- 
 Iyer man, nor so wel of etynge ; thenne they 
 made hym passyng good chere, and shortly when 
 he had souped, his bedde was made there, so he 
 rested hym al nyghte. And on the morne he herd 
 masse, and broke his fast, and toke his leve at 
 the duchesse, and at them al, and thanked her 
 goodely of her lodgyng, and of his good chere, 
 and thenne she asked hym his name. Madame, 
 he saide, truly my name is Gareth, of Orkney, 
 and some men calle me Beaumayns. So Syr Ga- 
 reth departed." — Morte d'Arthur, Vol. L p. 236. 
 
 P. 508. Philosophic conversation.^ Madame 
 de Sevigne makes a charming observation in one 
 of her letters, (609, or in one shortly after.) " J'ai 
 un grand degout pour les conversations inutiles 
 qui ne tombent sur rien du tout, des oui, des 
 voire, des lanternes ou Ton ne prend aucune sorte 
 d'interet. J'aime mieux ces conversations chre- 
 tiennes dont je vous ai parle. Thus Gresset in 
 " la chartreuse," celebrates the happiness of that 
 society which tends to instruct and gratify the 
 mind. 
 
 Loin des froids discours du vulgaire 
 Et des hauts tons dela grandeur. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 67o 
 
 And the following remark of the Count de Maistre 
 (Soirees de St. Petersbourg) is worthy of attention. 
 " J'ai grand regret a ces symposiaques, dont l'an- 
 tiquite nous a laisse quelques monumens precieux. 
 Les dames sont aimables sans doute ; il faut 
 vivre avec elles pour ne pas devenir sauvages. 
 Les societes nombreuses ont leur prix ; il faut 
 meme savoir s'y preter de bonne grace ; mais 
 quand on a satisfait a tous les devoirs imposes 
 par l'usage, je trouve fort bon que les hommes 
 s'assemblent quelquefois pour raisonner, meme a 
 table. Je ne sais pourquoi nous n'imitons plus 
 les anciens sur ce point." 
 
 LONDON : 
 printed by r. gilbert, 
 
 st. John's square. 
 
PAGE 
 
 40 for kcli read da 
 
 95 — pronas read pronus 
 145 — St. Stephen's read St. Stephen 
 152 — vtvofievog read vevofUGfjisvos 
 
 — victiis read vitiis 
 
 154 — tywve read eyioye 
 
 192 — 'Aik read 'Aocs 
 
 218 — multarum read multorum 
 
 234 — <pv\a%ov read (pvXa^ov 
 
 258 — #6 Kai read Se re Kai 
 
 265 — EKaaroig ravrt] reicprivrca read iKaaroi ravry 
 
 KSXprjVTCLl 
 
 276 — Thus read 'Twas 
 
 277 — dicendam read dicendum 
 
 282 — S-6 read de 
 
 283 — KaTayikioQev read KaraytXacrOtv 
 
 284 — fredere read foedere 
 2S6 — flerit read flevit 
 
 — — amicities read amicitiis 
 
 — — vttovoui read vwovosi 
 
 409 — licet, &c. read lieeat crudelem 
 
 433 — oKatyog read cncafog 
 
 494 — tt) ru%£ read ry rv%y 
 
 512 — Qeoi read Qea 
 
 517 — Idiojv read idwv 
 
 548 — 7ravv%ioL read itavvvyiov