great ceil beam in the centre, though some accounts, lending a less simple interest to the name, state that prisoners who underwent preliminary examinations here were flogged at this post, and thence shown through the south door into a dungeon, through whose upper gratings the Thames sometimes flowed in at high tide.

Now the waters of the Thames lie some yards away, tossing themselves against the beautiful embankment, which renders the archbishop's barge no longer necessary. Of a group of three towers at the northwestern corner of the palace, the largest and central one, built by Chicheley in 1436, is known as the Lollards' Tower.

A winding stair leads to the dungeon at the top, whose thick doors, rude locks, and other peculiarities indicate that it is the oldest portion of this palace, not even excepting the half-filled-up and little-used crypt. It is the only part of the palace now standing that is built of stone, and here it has been thought that the Lollards were imprisoned. Eight large rings are fixed in its oak-lined walls, which are cut

and scratched with several inscriptions in old English characters. A dismal cell it is to be found in a religious house; but the privilege granted to the clergy by King John's charter of being arraigned only before ecclesiastical courts is said to have first built prisons in episcopal palaces. Archbishop Bouchier sorrow fully admitted that they were a necessary check to gross profligacy among the clergy. Dean Hook, Dr. Maitland, and other writers think the Lollards were never shut up here; that Peter Lollard, who started Lollardism, suffered as a "disaffected political agitator" at Cologne in 1321, two years before Wycliffe was born; that the latter, though a heretic, was an unswerving loyalist; and that the confusion in this matter arose from the circumstances which brought these two movements so near each other in time, and sometimes seemingly in sym-. pathy.

There was a Lollards' Tower of which Latimer said he "would rather be in purgatory than lie in it," and of which another victim exclaimed, "If I were a dog,

you could not appoint a worse or viler place." But it is asserted that this tower was never at Lambeth; that, on the contrary, when the great fire swept away all traces of old London House, of Bonner's Inquisition and dungeons, with old St. Paul's, the traditions of the true Lollards' Tower of London House were fastened easily to the dismal iron-ringed cell of the so-called Lollards' Tower at Lambeth. This seems further confirmed by the acknowledged contrast in the characters of Archbishop Pole, tolerant and gentle for a Romanist, and the cruel Bonner, Bishop of London, Pole preferring to pacify the Pope by cremating the dead, while Bonner and Winchester enjoyed burning the living.

In

Thirlby, the first and last Bishop of Westminster, and the deposed Bishop of Durham, were honored guests rather than captives of Archbishop Parker, and the unfortunate Earl of Essex staid here before being taken to the Tower of London. Still, several authorities contend that the Lollards really suffered at Lambeth. this disagreement one thing remains indisputable, that the tower was a place of misery for many in the seventeenth century. One Dr. Guy Carleton was rescued from it by his wife. She came in a boat to the foot of the Water Tower, provided with a rope, which she managed to get to him. It was too short, but he let himself down by it, and in dropping the remaining distance both dislocated and broke his leg. With her help he crawled into the boat. She hid him, and sold her clothing and worked at day labor to support him until he could escape to France, whence he returned on the Restoration, and had the bishoprics of Bristol and Chichester.

From June 7 till August 11, in 1780, 'during the Lord Gordon riots, the palace was regularly garrisoned, the primate and his family having been prevailed on to seek other refuge. The officers were well lodged and entertained by the two chaplains, and the soldiers, with their wives and children, ate in the great hall, and had of the best, and doubtless were a little sorry when the troublesome times were past.

Excellent anecdotes are chronicled of some of the Archbishops of Canterbury. John Moore (archbishop in 1783) was early in his life a poor curate of Brockley, in Northamptonshire. A well-to-do plumb

was Moore's reply, "and as I can not pay it, I do feel a little delicacy in further intruding at your hospitable table." But Watts begged him to return, assuring him there were £20 more there at his service. Later, Watts became very poor, but Moore, who had in the mean time "risen to the mitre," sought him out, placed him in comfort, and settled an annuity on his widow, which, until her death, at the age of ninety-seven, was regularly paid by his family. Of John Tillotson, who cried out concerning the French refugees and the Edict of Nantes, "Charity is above rubrics," Tanswell relates that in private life "he always set apart one-fifth of his income for the poor and for good works," and on becoming archbishop spent his income in this way so entirely that he could only at death leave two volumes of his sermons to his family. These brought £2500!

At a dinner of the domestics during Laud's primacy it is told that King Charles I.'s jester pronounced this grace: "Give great praise to God, but little Laud to the devil," for which piece of vicious wit the fool is said to have paid by long imprisonment, if not death. Concerning the wife of Manners-Sutton, Lord Eldon, when dining with that prelate and George III., was quite as rude as the king's jester, and certainly more coarse, when he said: "It's a curious fact that your Majesty's Archbishop and your Lord Chancellor both married their wives clandestinely. But I had some excuse, for Bes

sie Surties was the prettiest girl in all Newcastle, while Mrs. Sutton was always the pumpkin-faced thing she is at present." On one occasion Erasmus went with Dean Colet by boat to see Archbishop Warham. As the boat glided along, the dean sat poring over Erasmus's Remedy for Anger. Arriving at the palace, they were received most cordially, but Dean Colet grew suddenly very glum, and it was only by the gentlest tact that the amiable Warham could win him to good humor again. When they were in the boat once more the dean explained to Erasmus that he had found himself at ta

UROPEAN history makes much of the

dians, whereas the English often went

ty Years' War;" and when we think of a continuous national contest for even the least of those periods, there is something terrible in the picture. But the feeble American colonies, in addition to all the difficulties of pioneer life, had to sustain a warfare that lasted, with few intermissions, for almost a hundred years. It was, moreover, a warfare against the most savage and stealthy enemies, gradually trained and re-enforced by the most formidable military skill of Europe. Without counting the early feuds, such as the Pequot War, there elapsed almost precisely a century from the accession of King Philip in 1662 to the Peace of Paris, which nominally ended the last French and Indian War in 1763. During this whole period, with pacific intervals that sometimes lasted for years, the same essential contest went on; the real question being, for the greater part of the time, whether France or England should control the continent. The description of this prolonged war may therefore well precede any general account of the colonial or provincial life in America.

The early explorers of the Atlantic coast generally testify that they found the Indians a gentle, not a ferocious, people. They were as ready as could be expected to accept the friendship of the white race. In almost every case of quarrel the white men were the immediate aggressors, and where they were attacked without seeming cause-as when Smith's Virginian colony was assailed by the Indians in the first fortnight of its existence-there is good reason to think that the act of the Indians was in revenge for wrongs elsewhere. One of the first impulses of the early explorers was to kidnap natives for exhibition in Europe, in order to excite the curiosity of kings or the zeal of priests; and even where these captives were restored unharmed, the distrust could not be removed. Add to this the acts of plunder, lust, or violence, and there was plenty of provocation given from the very outset.

The disposition to cheat and defraud the Indians has been much exaggerated, at least as regards the English settlers. The early Spanish invaders made no pretense of buying one foot of land from the In

commonly put in practice the reality. The Pilgrims, when in great distress at the very beginning, took baskets of corn from an Indian grave, and paid for them afterward. The year after the Massachusetts colony was founded, the court decreed: "It is ordered that Josias Plastowe shall (for stealing four baskets of corne from the Indians) returne them eight baskets againe, be fined five pounds, and hereafter called by the name of Josias, and not Mr., as formerly he used to be.” As a mere matter of policy, it was the general disposition of the English settlers to obtain lands by honest sale; indeed, Governor Josiah Winslow, of Plymouth, declared, in reference to King Philip's War, that "before these present troubles broke out the English did not possess one foot of land in this colony but what was fairly obtained by honest purchase of the Indian proprietors." This policy was quite general. Captain West in 1610 bought the site of what is now Richmond, Virginia, for some copper. The Dutch Governor Minuit bought the island of Manhattan in 1626 for sixty gilders. Lord Baltimore's company purchased land for cloth, tools, and trinkets; the Swedes obtained the site of Christiana for a kettle; Roger Williams bought the island of Rhode Island for forty fathoms of white beads; and New Haven was sold to the whites in 1638 for "twelve coats of English cloth, twelve alchemy spoons, twelve hoes, twelve hatchets, twelve porringers, twenty-four knives, and twenty-four cases of French knives and spoons." Many other such purchases will be found recorded by Dr. Ellis. And though the price paid might often seem ludicrously small, yet we must remember that a knife or a hatchet was really worth more to an Indian than many square miles of wild land; while even the beads were a substitute for wampum, or wompom, which was their circulating medium in dealing with each other and with the whites, and was worth in 1660 five shillings a fathom.

So far as the mere bargaining went, the Indians were not individually the sufferers in the early days; but we must remember that behind all these transactions there often lay a theory which was as merciless