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deed past.

life; after which, the bitterness of death was in"As he moved from the bar, his son rushed through the hall, fell upon his knees, and begged his blessing;" but upon reaching the Tower wharf, his "dear daughter, Margaret Roper, forced her way through the officers and halberdiers that surrounded him, clasped him around the neck, and sobbed aloud. Sir Thomas consoled her, and she collected sufficient power to bid him farewell for ever; but as her father moved on, she again rushed through the crowds, and threw herself upon his neck. Here" the strength, not "the weakness, of nature overcame him, and he wept as he repeated his blessing, and again uttered his Christian consolation. The people wept too; and his guards were so much affected, that they could hardly summon up resolution to separate the father and daughter!" The noble victim was once more to pass forth, and this time the old spirit of calm fortitude forsook him not for a moment; there was a flush upon his faded cheek, a lustre in his eye, long quenched, but now flashing up afresh, a gleam of the old wit-sparkle in the words he addressed to those around him.

When informed of the king's "clemency" (!) in commuting his sentence from "hanging, drawing, and quartering" to simple decapitation, he said, "God preserve all my friends from such royal favours!" He rose calmly, and apparelled himself for the last scene which was so shortly to be enacted. One request only did

he make, and this again had reference to her who, ever since the death of her mother, seems to have been for him the most valuable possession, the dearest consolation the world afforded. "Let Margaret be allowed the liberty of being present; permit my child's eyes to see the last of her father," he pleaded. So long as life remained, it was a blessing inexpressible to think that that true heart was beating near his own, that the prayers of those pure lips he had taught to lisp their first childish petitions, were uniting with his, and floating around him as he passed the dread portal, through which even her tried affection could in no other shape accompany him!

As usual on such occasions, the headsman demanded pardon of the victim before proceeding to the fulfilIment of his odious vocation. He received for reply, that he would that day confer upon Sir Thomas More the greatest favour in the power of man to give. "Strike not awry," was smilingly added, "for the sake and credit of thy profession; but hold, until I remove my beard, for that, at least, has never committed any treason." After declaring, in a clear voice, that he died a faithful subject and a true Catholic, this great man calmly laid his head upon the block, and in a moment more had ceased to exist, for at one stroke it was severed from the body.

When Margaret had visited her father in the Tower, he had demanded how Anne Boleyn, the proximate author of all his misfortunes, did. She replied, "that the

queen had never been better. Nothing was thought of at court but dancing and sporting." "Never better, you say, Meg," he rejoined sadly. "Alas! it pitieth me to think into what misery, poor soul, she will shortly come. These dances of hers will prove such dances, as with them she will spurn our heads off like footballs; but it will not be long ere her head will dance the like dance." The account of More's execution being brought to the king as he sat "playing at tables" with the queen, the conscience, hardened as it was by crime, of the royal profligate, showed yet some signs of discomposure, and saying to Anne, "Thou art the cause of this man's death!" he hastily withdrew, to shut himself within the solitude of his chamber. Even then the fulfilment of the prediction was on the horizon of events! "How prophetically he spoke these words," says that grandson of More who became his biographer, "was proved by the sequel of the tragedy." Another year had not reached its expiration, before the barge of the queen retraced the way from Greenwich to the Tower, and this time she passed beneath a different entrance to that whence she had formerly issued, in all the pride of bridal state. It is recorded, that, passing beneath the sombre shadow of the "Traitor's Gate," Anne, looking up with horror depicted upon her fair pale features, sank upon her knees, and again reiterating her innocence of the charges imputed to her, called upon Heaven for help and succour. In that bitter moment, and after

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