of such discoveries,
immediately sent to demand the treasure, under pretence of the rights of
seigniory. The Limosin, either because he had really discovered nothing
or that he was unwilling to part with so valuable an acquisition,
refused to comply with the king's demand, and fortified his castle.
Enraged at the disappointment, Richard relinquished the important
affairs in which he was engaged, and laid siege to this castle with all
the eagerness of a man who has his heart set upon a trifle. In this
siege he received a wound from an arrow, and it proved mortal; but in
the last, as in all the other acts of his life, something truly noble
shone out amidst the rash and irregular motions of his mind. The castle
was taken before he died. The man from whom Richard had received the
wound was brought before him. Being asked why he levelled his arrow at
the king, he answered, with an undaunted countenance, "that the king
with his own hand had slain his two brothers; that he thanked God who
gave him an opportunity to revenge their deaths even with the certainty
of his own." Richard, more touched with the magnanimity of the man than
offended at the injury he had received or the boldness of the answer,
ordered that his life should be spared. He appointed his brother John to
the succession; and with these acts ended a life and reign distinguished
by a great variety of fortunes in different parts of the world, and
crowned with great military glory, but without any accession of power to
himself, or prosperity to his people, whom he entirely neglected, and
reduced, by his imprudence and misfortunes, to no small indigence and
distress.

In many respects, a striking parallel presents itself between this
ancient King of England and Charles the Twelfth, of Sweden. They were
both inordinately desirous of war, and rather generals than kings. Both
were rather fond of glory than ambitious of empire. Both of them made
and deposed sovereigns. They both carried on their wars at a distance
from home. They were both made prisoners by a friend and ally. They were
both reduced by an adversary inferior in war, but above them in the arts
of rule. After spending their lives in remote adventures, each perished
at last near home in enterprises not suited to the splendor of their
former exploits. Both died childless. And both, by the neglect of their
affairs and the severity of their government, gave their subjects
provocation and encouragement to revive