ty of his age, since it was practical and not
ascetic. His temper was open, frank, and genial. He loved books and
strangers and travellers. There was nothing cynical about him, in spite
of his perplexities and discouragements. He had a beautifully balanced
character and a many-sided nature. He had the power of inspiring
confidence in defeat and danger. His judgment and good sense seemed to
fit him for any emergency. He had the same control over himself that he
had over others. His patriotism and singleness of purpose inspired
devotion. He felt his burdens, but did not seek to throw them off.
"Hardship and sorrow," said he, "not a king but would wish to be without
these if he could; but I know he cannot." "So long as I have lived I
have striven to live worthily." "I desire to leave to the men that come
after me a remembrance of me in good works." These were some of his
precious utterances, so that the love which he won a thousand years ago
has lingered around his name from that day to this.

It was a strong sense of duty, quickened by a Christian life, which gave
to the character of Alfred its peculiar radiance. He felt his
responsibilities as a Christian ruler. He was affable, courteous,
accessible. His body was frail and delicate, but his energies were never
relaxed. Pride and haughtiness were unknown in his intercourse with
bishops or nobles. He had no striking defects. He was the model of a man
and a king; and he left the impress of his genius on all the subsequent
institutions of his country. "The tree," says Dr. Pauli, one of his
ablest biographers, "which now casts its shadow far and near over the
world, when menaced with destruction in its bud, was carefully guarded
by Alfred; but at the period when it was ready to burst forth into a
plant, he was forced to leave it to the influence of time. Many great
men have occupied themselves with the care of this tree, and each in his
own way has advanced its growth. William the Conqueror, with his iron
hand, bent the tender branches to his will; Henry the Second ruled the
Saxons with true Roman pride, but in _Magna Charta_ the old German
nature became aroused and worked powerfully, even among the barons. It
became free under Edward the Third,--that prince so ambitious of
conquest: the old language and the old law, the one somewhat altered,
the other much softened, opened the path to a new era. The nation stood
like an oak in the full strength of its leafy maturity; and to t