Never, since the cessation of the Heptarchy, had a more terrible time been seen than the Wars of the Roses. In this struggle above all others, family convictions were divided, and family love rent asunder. Father and son, brother and brother, uncle and nephew, constantly took opposite sides: and every warrior on each side was absolutely sure that all shadow of right lay with his candidate, and that the "rebel and adversary" of his chosen monarch had not an inch of ground to stand on. Nor was the question of right so clear and indisputable as in this nineteenth century we are apt to think. To our eyes, regarding the matter in the light of modern law, it appears certain that Edward IV. was the rightful heir of the crown, and that there was no room for dispute in the matter. But the real point in dispute was the very important one, what the law of succession really was. Was it any bar that Edward claimed through a female? The succession of all the kings from the Empress Maud might be fairly held to settle this item in Edward’s favour. But the real difficulty, which lay beyond, was not so easily solved. Very little understood at present is the law of non-representation, the old "custom of England," which was also the custom of Artois, and several other provinces. According to this law, if a son of the king should predecease his father, leaving issue, that issue was barred from the throne. They were not to be allowed to represent their dead father. The right of succession passed at once to the next son of the monarch. Several of our kings tried to alter this law, but it was so dear to the hearts of the English people that up to 1377 they invariably failed. The most notable instance is that of Richard I., who tried hard to secure the succession of Arthur, the son of his deceased brother Geoffrey, in preference to his youngest brother John. But the "custom of England" was too strong for him: and though John was personally neither liked nor respected by any one, England preferred his rule to making a change in her laws. It was Edward III. who succeeded in making the alteration. His eldest son, the famed Black Prince, had died leaving a son behind him, and the old King strongly desired to secure the peaceable succession of his grandson. He succeeded, partly because of the popularity of the deceased Prince, partly on account of the unpopularity of the next heir, but chiefly because the next heir himself was willing to assist in the alteration. His reward for this self-abnegation is that modern writers are perpetually accusing him of unbridled ambition, and of a desire to snatch the crown from that nephew who would assuredly never have worn it had he withheld his consent.