was already decided upon by the Lords. He had invited their voices as a compliment to the City. They might, however, answer Yea or Nay—would they have the Protector to reign over them? A few hats were thrown up with the cry, King Richard! King Richard! upon which the Duke declared that the citizens were unanimous, and retired. The day after, Richard, being then at Baynard’s Castle and not at Crosby House, as is generally supposed, received the Mayor and Aldermen, and, pretending it to be much against his wish, accepted the proffered crown. In the dead silence, neither of approval nor of dissent, which greeted the Duke’s speech we may read anxiety, doubt, and even dismay. The history of Henry III., of Richard II., of Henry VI., all cried aloud the dangers that awaited a country whose King was a child. All the rivers of blood, the destruction of noble houses, the loss of France, the national humiliation, the waste of treasure, the ruin of trade, of the last sixty years were caused by the feebleness of a child King, and the dissensions of his guardians. Were all those troubles to be begun again? It would seem so. We have seen a similar hesitation with the Archbishops over the invasion of Sanctuary. Both Princes, if the younger should join his brother in the Tower, would be most certainly murdered; no one could doubt that; yet—yet—what were the lives of these two boys compared with the chance of bringing peace once more to this distracted country? I am, therefore, of opinion that the Archbishops consented to the removal of the younger boy and the violation of Sanctuary deliberately, and knowing full well beforehand that the children would be murdered: yet feeling that the evils of a long minority were far worse than the murder of two boys: and that a strong King sitting on the throne, however he got there, was above all things needed by the distracted and bleeding and impoverished country. In the same way I am of opinion that in the City the nomination of Richard was a thing agreed upon by the City—it certainly was agreed upon—deliberately and perhaps unanimously, perhaps also in heaviness of spirit—in order to prevent worse calamities. After the defeat and death of Buckingham, Richard received a loyal welcome from the City, together with a petition in which the citizens boldly told him that they were resolved no longer to live in thraldom and bondage, “oppressed and injured by extortions and new impositions against the laws of God and man.” Richard received this protest graciously, and passed a statute acknowledging that the exaction of money under the name of a benevolence was unconstitutional. He also pleased the City by forbidding alien merchants to have alien apprentices. In 1484-85, when it was known that Henry Tudor would attempt an invasion, the City presented the King first with the sum of £2400 and afterwards with £2000. Thus assisted, Richard marched out of London and met his enemy at Bosworth Field.