these woods for a deer park, and with that view obtained a grant of free warren from the king. The Mayor, Aldermen, and commonalty, however, would not permit the project to be carried into execution, contending successfully that time out of memory, "they had used to take and hunt within the aforesaid woods and without, hares, foxes, conies, and other beasts, where and when they would."

Simon de Sudbury, who filled this see at the time when Wickliff began the work of Reformation, presents in his unhappy fate a memorable example of the fickleness of popular favour.

When, in 1376, Wickliff was, by the command of the Pope, summoned before the Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop of London, to answer for the tenets contained in what was called the Lollard's Creed; he appeared before them, accompanied by his friends and protectors, the Duke of Lancaster and Earl Marshal. The Earl Marshal, having insisted that Wickliff should be allowed a seat during his examination, the following curious dialogue ensued.

"Bishop of London. If I could have guessed, Lord Percy, that you would have played the master here, I would have prevented your coming.

Duke of Lancaster. Yes, he shall play the master here for all of you.

Lord Percy. Wickliff, sit down! You have need of a seat, for you have many things to say.

Bishop. It is unreasonable that a clergyman cited before the ordinary should sit during his answer. He shall stand!

Duke of Lancaster. My Lord Percy, you are in the right. And for you, my Lord Bishop, who are grown

so proud and arrogant, I will take care to humble your pride; and not only yours, my Lord, but that of all the prelates in England. Thou dependest on the credit of thy relations, but so far from being able to help thee, they will have enough to do to support themselves.

Bishop. I place no confidence in my relations, but in God alone, who will give me the boldness to speak the truth.

Duke of Lancaster. (Speaking to Lord Percy.) Rather than take this at the bishop's hands. I will drag him by the hair of the head out of the church."

A crowd of citizens interposed, to protect the bishop from the execution of this indecent threat; and the duke and earl marshal were glad to secure their own safety by a hasty retreat. The populace afterwards evinced their resentment of the indignity which their bishop had received, by a riotous attack on the Duke of Lancaster's house in the Savoy, and by other outrages. (See vol. 1. p. 192.)

On the breaking out, a few years after, of Wat Tyler's insurrection, Sudbury, who had by that time been promoted to the archbishopric of Canterbury, received, at the hands of a mob, the very fate from which a mob had before most probably protected him. When the rebels burst into the Tower, the archbishop was on his knees in the chapel, employed in prayer and supplication. The noise of the rushing throng broke on his ear. "Let us now rise," said he placidly to his attendants," and go; surely it is best to die when it is no pleasure to live." The words were scarcely uttered, when a party of the rebels rushed into the chapel, calling out furiously," Where is the

traitor?" "Behold the archbishop," replied Sudbury, "whom you seek, but who is no traitor." The ruffians laid instantly violent hands upon him, and dragged him forth to the usual place of execution on Towerhill. He seized upon the interval employed in preparing the block, to address the multitude; desired to know what offence he had committed, and warned them to take heed how, by the slaying of their pastor, they brought not on them the indignation of the Just Avenger. But finding all remonstrances in vain, he prepared to suffer with dignity and resignation. The sword seems to have trembled in the execution of its dreadful office; for it was not till the ninth stroke that the head was severed from the body. After the first blow the unhappy victim put up his hand to his neck, and was heard to exclaim, "It is the hand of God."

At the Council of Constance, in 1414, Robert Clifford, bishop of London, and several other eminent ecclesiastics, attended as the representatives of the Church of England. He was one of the thirty cardinals-extraordinary created on that occasion, and was even nominated to the purple on the deposition of the three rival popes of that period, but lost the election, which terminated in favour of Cardinal Odo Calonna, Pope Martin the Fifth.

The sanguinary Henry VIII. gave to this diocese the equally sanguinary Bonner. On the establishment of the reformed religion under Edward VI. he was displaced by the pious Ridley; but on the restoration of popery, under Mary, the" high priest of blood," as he has been well named, was reinstated in the see, and Ridley exchanged his mitre for a crown of mar. tyrdom. When Elizabeth came to he throne, Bonner

was among the bishops who hastened to tender their allegiance to the new queen, as she was on her way from Hatfield to London; but her majesty, shocked with the recollection of his cruelties, refused to see him. He was degraded from his office and thrown into the Marshalsea, where he perished miserably.

John King, who was promoted to be bishop of London by James the First, was remarkable for his eloquence in the pulpit, and hence styled by that facetious monarch the King of preachers. His successor was of name still happier in a punning age, for it was said to have enabled the king to effect a miracle, by throwing a Mountain into the sea (see). George Mountain, who was translated from the bishopric of Lincoln to that of London, became afterwards archbishop of York; thus verifying an old saying, that he who "Lincoln was, London is, York

shall be."

The next bishops of London were Laud and Juxon, the one celebrated for his active participation in those measures which brought his royal master to the scaffold; and the other for his courageous fidelity, in administering to the unhappy Charles the consolations of religion, not only during his trial, but in his last

moments.

In the catholic reign of James II. Henry Compton, bishop of London, was styled, by way of pre-eminence, the Protestant bishop, on account of the noble stand which he made in defence of the rights of the Protestant church, against the encroachments of that prince. He had been a soldier in his youth, when the country was torn with civil wars; and proved now a courageous champion of the sacred

order of which he had become a member. King James once observed to him, after a discussion between them on some point of difference, that "he talked more like a colonel than a bishop." Compton smartly replied, "that his Majesty did him honour in taking notice of his having formerly drawn his sword in defence of the constitution, and that he would do the same again if he lived to see it necessary." The bishop was as good as his word. From the very commencement of James's measures for the establishment of despotism, Compton was to be found in the foremost rank of opposition. The king having, in one of his speeches to parliament, broached sentiments hostile to the rights of the subject, the bishop animadverted upon them with freedom and severity, and moved, that they should be made the subject of a special inquiry. Although this conduct might have taught James that he had nothing in the shape of concession to expect from Compton, it did not prevent his sending to him, shortly after, a letter, desiring that he would forthwith suspend Dr. Sharp, rector of St. Giles's in the fields, "from farther preaching in any parish church or chapel in his diocese, till satisfaction had been given" by the doctor for presuming to expose, in his sermons, the errors of popery, and thereby, as James declared, endeavouring "to beget an evil opinion of him and his government." The bishop promptly made answer," that he could not proceed otherwise than by the established law, and as a judge; and that, by such law, no judge could condemn any man before he had knowledge of the cause, and the parties had been cited to answer the accusation." The king, deeply