Cowell's Interpreter, Sub. voce Quinsieme; also Reymer, vol. ii., p. 75, and Steven's Appendix, p. 108. See a justification and apology for monks and monastic orders in Monasticon Fevrshamense, or a Survey of the Monastery of Feversham, by Thomas Southouse, of Gray's Inn, London, 1634.

Of the Benedictine order were all our cathedral priories, except Carlisle, and most of the richest abbeys in England. Reymer (vol. i.) says; that the revenue of the Benedictines was almost equal to those of all the other orders. Sir Robert Atkyns says, there was in England, before the Reformation, 45,009 churches, and 55,000 chapels; now only about 10,000. Dr. Bently, under the name Phikoleutherus Lipsionsis, in remarks upon a late discourse of free thinking, says, that out of 10,000 parish churches, there are 6000 the yearly income of which does not exceed 50%. each. On the then state of the church revenues in England, see that Treatise in Dean Prideaux, on the Origin and Right of Tithes.

LETTERS FROM KING HENRY VIII. TO ANNE
BOLEYN *.

To Anne Boleyn.

MY SWEETHEART AND friend,

I and my heart put themselves into your hands, begging of thee to take them to your favour; and

* These letters are presented to our readers rather as curiosities than as models of excellence. They illustrate the observation of

that by my being absent from you, your affection may not be diminished towards them; for it would be a great pity to augment their pain, for absence gives me enough and more than ever, and more than I could have thought, and calls to my remembrance a point of Astronomy, which is this; that by how much farther the Moors are distant from the Sun, the heat is notwithstanding more fervent. So it is with our love: for though we are personally distant from each other, the heat of love remains, at least on our side, and I hope the same on yours, assuring you, that the anxiety of absence is already too great; and when I think of the augmentation thereof which I must still suffer, if it was not for the firm hope I have of your inviolable affection towards me, to put you in remembrance of that, since I cannot be personally with you at present, I send you the nearest likeness to it I can, to wit, my picture set in bracelets, the only device which I have left, wishing myself in their place whenever it shall please you. Written by the hand of your servant and friend.

From the same to the same.

MY SWEETHEART AND Friend,

I heartily thank you for your handsome present, than which, well weighing the whole, nothing is more beautiful, not only for the beautiful diamond

Hume, that at intervals this prince was not altogether destitute of virtue; that he was sincere, open, gallant, liberal, and capable, at least, of a temporary friendship and attachment.

and vessel in which the solitary damsel is tossed; but principally for the beautiful interpretation and most humble submission, by your goodness in this case made use of, well thinking, that to merit this by opportunity will be very difficult, if your great humanity and favour did not assist me, for which I have watched, watch, and will watch all opportunities of retaliation possible; to remain in which, my whole hope has placed its immutable intention, which says, aut illic, aut nullibi.

The demonstrances of your affection are such, the beautiful words, the letters so affectionately couched, which, in truth, oblige for ever to honour you, love and serve you; begging of you to continue in this firm and constant purpose; on my part assuring you, that I will rather augment it, than make it reciprocal, if loyalty of heart, desire of pleasing you, without any other motive, may advance it; praying you, that if any time heretofore I have given you offence, that you would give me the same pardon that you ask; assuring you, that for the future, my heart shall be wholly dedicated to you, much desiring that the body might be also, as God can do it if he pleases, to whom I beg once a day to do it, hoping that in time my prayers may be heard, wishing the time to be short, thinking it very long to our review.

Written by the hand of my secretary, who in heart, body, and will, is your loyal and most assured

servant.

From Queen Anne Boleyn to King Henry *.

SIR,

Your grace's displeasure and my imprisonment are things so strange unto me, as to what to write, or what to excuse, I am altogether ignorant. Whereas, you send unto me, (willing me to confess a truth and so obtain your favour) by such an one whom you know to be mine ancient professed enemy. I no sooner received this message by him, than I rightly conceived your meaning; and if, as you say, confessing a truth, indeed may procure my safety, I shall with all willingness and duty, perform your command.

But let not your grace ever imagine, that your poor wife will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault, where not so much as a thought thereof preceded. And, to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in Anne Boleyn; with which name and place I could willingly have contented myself, if God and your grace's pleasure had been so pleased. Neither did I at any time so far forget myself in my exaltation, or received queenship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as I now find; for the ground of my

* Who could possibly imagine, that the passionate lover in the preceding letters, would so soon be converted into the savage husband? What Nature! what elegance! in the following letter. How much does it exalt the character of this beautiful and injured queen! Still it made no impression on the heart of her unrelenting tyrant.

preferment being on no surer foundation than your grace's fancy, the least alteration, I knew, was fit and sufficient to draw that fancy to some other subject. You have chosen me from a low estate to be your queen and companion, far beyond my desert and desire. If then you found me worthy of such honour, good your grace let not any light fancy or bad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw your princely favour from me; neither let that stain, that unworthy stain, of a disloyal heart towards your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your dutiful wife, and the infant princess your daughter. Try me, good king, but let me have a lawful trial; and let not my sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judges; yea, let me receive an open trial (for my truth shall fear no open shame ;) then shall you see mine innocence cleared, your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped, or my guilt openly declared. So that whatsoever God or you may determine of me, your grace may be freed from an open censure, and my offence being so lawfully proved, your grace is at liberty, both before God and man, not only to execute worthy punishment on me, as an unlawful wife, but to follow your affection already settled on that party, for whose sake I am now as I am, whose name I could some while since have pointed unto your grace, being not ignorant of my suspicion therein. But if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death, but