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venth, and so it would be in our owo days, if the greater part of the people had not more wit 'than to listen to the nonsense of those who would per: suade them that they were ill-used and oppressed.
Henry, by prudence and good management, studied to render the nation flourishing and powerful: he tried too, by his gentle behaviour, to pacify those whose minds had long been harassed by disturbances and rebellions. There were, however, some people who were too turbulent to live at ease, and be satisfied, and they had been so long accustomed to plots and conspiracies, that they still endeavoured, by some means or other, to raise disturbances and discontent. These people set up a man of the name of Lambert Simnel, the son of a baker, who pretended that he was the son of that Dake of Clarence who was drowned in a butt of Malmsey in the Tower. This was, however, so plain a piece of imposition, that few people were found willing to join the rebels :--some people, however, did ; and, among these, some powerful people; and an army was raised on the side of the rebels ; but all sensible people knew that they were well off, and remained loyal to their king. A battle was, however, fought between the king's forces and the rebels, at Stoke, in Nottinghamshire, and the rebels were beaten. The king did not think it worth while to use any great severity towards this Simnel, because he was a poor weak young man, "led on by those who ought to have known better. He was made a scullion in the king's kitchen, and afterwards raised to be the keeper of the king's hawks, in which employment he died. *
Not long afterwards, another pretender to the crown was set up. This was one Perkin Warbeck, He gave it out that the younger of the children, said to have been 'murdered in the Tower, was in fact not murdered, but was still living ;-and Warbeck said that he was this young prince, Richard, Duke of
York. Many people supported this youth's preten. şions; and his manners were so good, and be managed himself with so much prudence, that he found himself very powerfully supported, and his story was believed by many persons of rank and consequence. The king took great pains to learn the history of Perkins's birth, and to find out who were the contrivers of the plot. Many of those were taken and exe. cuted, and some were pardoned.
When a check was thus given to this youth's progress in England, he went into Scotland, where he found great support from the Scotch king, James the Fourth ; and then he came again to England with a considerable army, but he found few of the English willing to join him. Then he went to Jreland, to try wbat he could do there. Then he came again to England, lànded in, Cornwall, and was joined by several of the Cornish men, and then took upon himself the title of Richard che Fourth. He had now an army of seven thousand 'men. Soon, however, he heard that the king was coming with an army to oppose him, and be then gave up all hopes of success, and left his army to the mercy of the king. Some of the ringleaders were executed, the rest were pardoned. A. pardon was offered to Warbeck, upon condition that he would deliver himself up, and confess the circumstances of his imposture; this he consented to do ;—but some people think that there was so much contradiction in this confession, that they are willing still to believe that bis pretensions to be the Duke of York were not without foundation, I cannot tell how. this is, but we know that strange things are set down by writers, according to their own views, or the party to wbich they belong
If any of the favourers of Richard the Third bad written the history of these times, they would perhaps have made the best of his character, and said every thing that they could find amiss against the
character of Henry the Seventh. Just so, as the history which has come down to us was probably written by the friends of Henry, it has perhaps made the worst of Richard's character, and the best of Henry's. It has, however, generally been understood, that the two young princes were murdered in the Tower; and, if it were so, then, of course, Warbeck was an impostor ;-but this matter we must leave to wiser heads than your's or mine. We may learn, however, 'to be cautious how we believe the accounts of party writers. There are plenty of those in our days; and, if we were to believe all they tell us, we might fancy that we were all şadly oppressed and ill used, and that we were living in a miserable country, and that all our.liberty was gone. And some people read such accounts till they fancy themselves surrounded with every misery, and reduced to wretcheduess and slavery. How strange all this seems to you and me, who feel that we have liberty to do just any thing we please that a Christian man would wish to do! We know, too, that many people are living in great wretchedness, and we hear them complain against the government; but we can see, plainly enough, that the government has nothing to do with their misfortunes, but that they are very frequently brought on by themselves-we see that sober and prudent people are generally thriving and prosperous, and that dranken and careless people are generally in rags and poverty. It is true, distress and affliction sometimes visit us, notwithstanding all our exertions; but no government can help this, or make it otherwise.
I am, however, forgetting my history. Henry seems to have been of a gentle disposition ; but the perpetual disturbances and rebellions which occur red in his reign, seem to have forced him to frequent acts of severity.
Towards the latter end of his reign things seemed.
to have become calm and settled. He died in the
Believe me, my dear boy,
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN RALPH RAGGED AND
WILL WISE, ON SAVING BANKS.
The following Dialogue has bad a very extensive
circulation in the shape of a penny Tract, printed at Saffron Walden'; but we insert it here as many of our readers may not have met with it, and as it gives an account, in a few words, of the plan of Saving Banks.
Ralph. How are you master William ? May a body have a minute's talk with you?
Will. Aye, to be sure Ralph.
Ralph. Well that's more than I expected; for you are grown such a fine gentleman of late, that there's no such thing as getting a word with you. I remember the time when you used to come almost every night to the Red Lion; but all of a sudden you took yourself off;-its now a matter of seven or eight years ago.
Will. Yes Ralph, and do'nt you remember that I advised you to do the same! I told you there was only one safe side of that door, and that was the outside,
Ralph. Aye, you told me so, sure enough; but I thought I knew best, and so I would not listen to you.
Will. And that's the reason why I left off talking to you ; for where's the use of spending one's breath on a man that won't hear what you've got to say?
Ralph. Well, William, but I am ready to hear
you' now, and so let's hear all about why you left off coming to the Red Lion, and how was it that, just about that time, you began to look so smart and genteel, just as if any body had left you an Estate.
Will. Why, as to that, Ralph, I like to have my clothes whole and decent, and that's partly the reason why I left off the Red Lion; for Richard Sober once told me that the Lion would tear all my clothes off
my back ;-but I did not mind what he said. He spoke the truth, however, for súre enough I was presently all in rags.
Ralph.: Aye, I remember the time when you look'd just as mean and ragged as I do now..
Will. Yes, Ralph, I see the Red Lion has been tearing you sadly. But I was going to tell you all about myself. Ralph. Well that's what I want to hear.
Will. Well, you know; when I was a boy, I went to the charity school, and they always took us to church on a Sunday; and so it came, in a manner, natural to me, after that, to go to church, for all I led, in other ways, such a wicked life. And so, you see, one Sunday morning, I heard the minister reading ahout the Prodigal Son, that spent all he had in riotous living. I had often read about that at school, but, to my shame be it spoken, I took little or no notice, as to the meaning of it. But, when the gentleman read it, it came into my mind, that I was just like that prodigal. Well but, said I to myself, when the prodigal came to himself and 'repented, and was resolute in his endeavours to leave off his bad courses, he came to his father and found mercy;
-and so may. I! Well, as I was walking slowly home across the field by myself, and thinking about what I had heard, I saw, by the road side, a nest of ants on a hillock, very busy indeed, and so I stop'd a bit to look at 'em. Whilst I was observing 'em, a verse that I had learn't at school, came right across my mind; it was this, “Go to the ant thou sluggard,