could remove the panic fears which had depressed their minds; they dispersed, and many of them fled to Bolinbroke !

At length the adverse winds permitted England's King to tread upon his native shores, again. He kissed the earth on his arrival, and wept for joy. His buoyant spirits would not permit him to forsee any cause of apprehension. He imagined his very presence would disarm rebellion, and that the hardiest faction would shrink abashed before anointed majesty! Thus, he had been taught to feel; and thus, inflated with vanity, he stood proudly erect ; great in his own esteem, and fearless of all danger!

Alas! poor monarch!-blinded with prosperity, he saw not the storm of adversity which was gathering round him, and which, ere long, would fall upon his devoted head to crush him in his pride of greatness, and pomp of security! Aumerle, son of the Duke of York, was less sanguine than his royal master; and expressed his apprehension, that while they were dreaming of security, which they did not possess, Bolinbroke was every hour increas ing in strength, in substance and in friends!-Richard replied with proud disdain

Discomfortable cousin

Not all the water, in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balm from an anointed King;
The breath of worldly men cannot depose
The deputy elected by the Lord.***

Short was the period of his imaginary safety. Salisbury advanced to meet and bid him welcome; but he bore to him the sad intelligence of the dispersion of his Welsh army. Richard looked aghast; and his blanched cheeks called the attention of Aumerle; when in a tone of dejection, totally opposite to that, which but a few moments before had inspired him, he exclaimed

But now, the blood of twenty thousand men
Di triumph in my face, and they are fled;
And til so much blood thither come again,
Have I not reason to look pale and dead?
All souls that will be safe, fly from my side;
For time har set a blot upon my pride.***

Aumerle strove to arouse him; and pride came to his aid, to rally for a few moments: but sorrow poured upon him. Sir Stephen Scroop brought word that Bolinbroke's power was spreading over the land-that silver beards and beardless boys had taken arms against him, that his very beadsmen were bending their fatal yews, and distaff women shaking their rusty bills against his sacred seat; that young and old were up in rebellion; and that all was worse than his feeble tongue could find language to describe !

Where is the Earl of Wiltshire

(inquired the King.) Where is Bagot, what is become of Bushy -Green?-have they deserted their monarch? have they made peace with fiery Bolinbroke ?"

"Alas! my Lord, they have indeed made peace!" "Villains! villains! (exclaimed the incensed Richard.) What, they-whom I have fostered in my bosom, to sting me to the heart-they who have fawned upon ine, and swore my love was all their treasure; they, to forsake, to desert me now -now, when my misfortunes press. me!-Oh! vipers, vipers !"

Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judag!
Would they make peace, terrible hell make war
Upon their spotted souls for this offence !***

"Alas! my liege, you wrest my words from their true meaning; deserters they are not; they have made their peace with forfeiture of their heads; and now lie low in their cold graves !"

Despair seized upon the soul of Richard' and

grief took possession of his heart! Again, Aumerle strove to arouse his energies, by reminding him of his father, the Duke of York's power; and again, the fluctuating Richard caught at this gleam of hope, and in fancy triumphed over Bolinbroke; but the gleam was transient-and followed by deeper anguish, and despair!-when he learned that York had joined with Bolinbroke; that his northern castles had all yielded up, and the southern gentlemen were in arms for the adverse party!

As the sudden thunderbolt, preceded by the lightning's flash, splits the young oak, and withers all its leaves, so Richard looked! Supreme in desolation, shorn of his beams, the roval victim stood, the mute pale image of anguish and despair! His mind, naturally weak, and still farther debilitated by the effeminate life he had led, was unable to cope with adversity he felt-acutely felt, but had no power to meet, or to repel the storm which threatened him; he therefore yielded to his powerful enemy-yielded without resistance, and agreed to accompany the proud triumphant Bolinbroke to London, there to resign his crown.-" Ay, ay," he cried

o' God's name let it go.

I'll give my large kingdom, for a little grave,
A little, little grave, an obscure grave:
Or I'll be buried in the King's highway
-where subjects' feet

May hourly trample on their sovereign's head;
For on my heart they tread, now while I live;
And buried once, why not upon my head ***

On their arrival in London, Bolinbroke was received with shouts and acclamations : "God save thee Bolinbroke !" "Welcome great Bolinbroke !" echoed from innumerable voices! He mounted on a proud and fiery steed, moved slowly on, bareheaded, and bowing on each side to the admiring crowds who greeted him :--whilst poor unhappy

Richard, their rightful King, the son of a valiant sire, whose prowess had gained more glory to the English name than should have been forgot by English hearts, was exposed to insult and derision; for the remembrance of the father's virtues awakened not one throb of pity for the son's affliction ;affliction, surely greater than he had deserved! By Bolinbroke's side he rode, bare headed too, on a mean looking horse, without accoutrements: no voice was raised to greet him; no faithful subject bade him welcome home; they scowled upon him with scorn and contempt; and from the windows and house tops, some threw dust and rubbish on his Bacred head!

Which, with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
His face still combating with smiles and tears,
The badges of his grief and patience,

That had not God for some strong purpose, steeled
The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,
And barbarism itself have pitied him.***

The power of force too frequently bears down right; and justice is compelled to yield when strength prevails. Had Richard, in that fatal moment of degradation, exerted his resolution: had he boldly stepped into the midst of his frowning people, with that same noble spirit he had at sixteen years of age evinced! had he made an appeal to their justice had he fearlessly addressed them! had he exclaimed

Brave Englishmen ! behold your rightful King :
Behold the son of him, who in your cause
So oft has fought and bled! whose glory stands
Recorded in the annals of this realin!
Who waged unequal wars, and conquered still,
Heaping fresh honours on the British name..
And sh I the son of this so valiant sire
Become the victim of his subjects' wroth?
Nay! frown not English uen-but listen while
Your monarch speaks,-grant, I have deeply erred,
Forgive not English hearts the faults of youth?

Bethink ye-hapless Richard was a king
Or ere he was a man !-armed at all points
With power his subjects to command, wanting
The years and judg rent to command himself:
Say, that is past-and say, that I repent,
That I abjure all former weaknesses;
Atonement making by my future justice
For past infringement on her sacred laws.
Say, I henceforth maintain my subjects' rights,
Make restitution where I've offered wrong:
And by the sainted spirit of my sire,

And by the sacred light of you bright heaven,
Swear!!-to offer wrong no more—but foremost stand,
To shield my faithful subiects from oppression.
Say-this pledged ye by repenting Richard.
Where choose ye then your King 2-let caps and hands
Declare at once! shall Henry Blinbroke,

Or your Black Prince's son, Richard Plantaganet,
Be future monarch of fair England?

Had he but exerted himself at that trying juncture, the aspiring Bolinbroke, perchance, had never been the King of England:-but Providence ordained it otherwise, and powerless Richard fell a victim to the discontents of his people, and the ambition of a rival,

A meeting was called at Westminister Hall, where Richard resigned his crown to the unfeeling Bolinbroke; and was then conducted as a prisoner to the Tower. Amidst the numbers who had basked in the sunshine of the monarch's favour, none dared undertake his defence ;—no voice, save one, disputed the imperious claims of the usurper. This one was the Lord Bishop of Carlisle he resolutely pleaded the cause of the dethroned Richard, and in the accents of prophecy, denounced what future horrors would be the result of the present unparalleled injustice. He was, for this, accused of high treason, and ordered into the custody of the Abbot of Westminister till called upon to attend his trial; for though the abbot was as firmly the friend of Richard as the Bishop, yet, fortunately, having forborne to speak, he possessed more power to act,