er's grave. De Vallance
and Eustace were now cementing that bond of virtuous friendship which
would distinguish them in happier times; and those times would soon
return. The generous feelings of English nobles would not long endure
the national degradation. They had taught the Norman Conqueror to
venerate their ancient rights. They had resisted every attempt of the
princely house of Plantagenet to sink subjects into vassals. The First
Edward, great in council and in arms, found his people alike invincible
in the field, whether they followed his banner under an Asian or a
Northern sky, or opposed his violation of their chartered rights! Could
a nation, which would only pay a constitutional obedience to a Beauclerk
or a Coeur de Lion, which served, not submitted to, the heroes of Cressy
and of Agincourt, long writhe under the scorpion-lash of despotism
wielded by a low Usurper, whose manners and sentiments were inimical to
the general tone of the English character--a man pre-eminent in fraud
and hypocrisy, and ignorant of the lively yearnings of humanity.

"My girl," Evellin would often say to Isabel, "the King must be
re-instated on his throne, or England will fall from her rank among the
nations. The standard of public morals must be reduced, the mode of
thinking be changed, the very aspect of Englishmen undergo a revolution
before the race of this upstart Despot can take root in this island. We
have been accustomed to look up to our governors as great and good; at
least they were surrounded by a blaze of ancestry and dignity of manners
congenial to our feelings of the prescriptive claims of hereditary
rights. We must be all mercenary soldiers, wild fanatics, pensioned
informers, or feudal serfs toiling for daily bread, ere we can patiently
endure this revolting system of jealousy and suspicion--this cold,
selfish scheme of trick and expedient. Astonishment and terror may
awhile paralyze the national spirit; the remembered miseries of civil
war may render the phantom of peace so alluring as to induce many to
call a deleterious intoxication felicity. But unless Cromwell can
obliterate every record of what Englishmen were in past ages--unless he
can make us forget the education, opinions, and hopes of our youth--the
labours, sorrows, and wrongs of our riper years--his meanness and his
crimes;--never--never can the British lion crouch at an Usurper's form,
or the red-cross banner wave graceful over a traitor's head."

Col