The position of governor, or rector, of such a community was, it will be readily understood, one requiring special, rare, and valuable qualities. He must be, first of all, a man of courteous and conciliatory manners; he must know how to be firm and how to assert his rights; he must be watchful for the extension, and jealous for the observance, of privileges; he must be ready to seize every opportunity for advancing the interests of the community; he must not be afraid to stand before kings; he must be a linguist, and able to speak the language of the court and the language of the market. When we learn, therefore, that Caxton was presently raised to the very important office of Governor of all the English merchants, not only in Bruges, but in other towns,--Ghent, Antwerp, Damme, Sluys,--we understand from this single fact the manner of man he was supposed to be; when we learn in addition that he continued to hold his post till he was forty-five years of age, we understand what manner of man he must have been. There is, as one who studies this time cannot fail to remark, a special kind of dignity belonging to these centuries; it is the dignity that springs from the knowledge of one’s own rank or place, at a time when rank, place, or station belonged to every possible occupation of life. A bricklayer or a carpenter, as well as a mercer, or a monk, or a priest, belonged to a trade association; he was ’prentice first, full member next, officer or even warden in due course. The most humble employment was dignified by the association of its members. Everybody, from the King to the lowest craftsman, understood the dignity of associated labor; everybody recognized office and authority, whether it was the episcopal office or the presidency of a Craft Company. You may see Caxton in every picture that presents a _bourgeois_ of the time. He wears a long gown of red cloth, something like a cassock, the sleeves and neck trimmed with rich fur; round his neck hangs a gold chain; his belt is of leather, gilt, and from it hangs his purse; his hair is cut shorter than the nobles wear it, and it is seen under a round cap, the sides of which are turned up. It is a costume admitting of great splendor in the way of material; the fur lining or trimming may be broad and costly; the gold chain may be rich and heavy; the belt may be embossed by an Italian artist--all the advantages of mediæval costume are not with the knight and soldier. As for his face, it is grave; his eyes are serious; it is not for him that the Court Fool plays his antics; it is not for him that the minstrel strikes his mandolin: he is thinking what new concessions he can get from the Duke of Burgundy. Above all, at this moment he is troubled about the late quarrel in Antwerp between certain English sailors--young hotheads--and some Flemings, in a tavern, after which two of the latter were found dead. And the town, without considering who began the brawl, was of course in