I wish in this, the eighth and last of the Presidential Addresses which I have been privileged to deliver, to carry you to the East, and to offer for your consideration some thoughts which have been brought back to my mind by a book I have been reading lately. This is an English translation by Mr. Beauchamp, a gentleman resident in Madras, made from the complete and corrected work of the Abbé Dubois upon Hindu manners, customs and ceremonies, which has been hitherto inedited. The Madras Government has very properly given its sanction and assistance to Mr. Beauchamp's useful labours. The Abbe Dubois was a very remarkable man who in 1793, soon after becoming a priest, left France, in which anarchy was reigning supreme, and embarking for India buried himself for thirty years, in the Southern part of that country, devoting himself to the conversion of the natives.

The term ‘Ironsides’ was a nickname, originally conferred upon Cromwell by Prince Rupert, which was afterwards applied to the regiment, as well as to the man who commanded it. Popular usage has come to employ it as a designation for Cromwell's troopers rather than for Cromwell himself, and in its popular sense it is employed in the title of this paper. In this paper, therefore, I shall attempt to trace the history of Cromwell's regiment of horse from its origin in 1643 to its incorporation in the New Model in 1645, and to show how it was raised, equipped, and organised, and by whom it was commanded.

It is sufficiently well known to the general reader of history that the cause of Wolsey's fall was his failure to obtain for Henry VIII. a divorce from Katharine of Arragon. Wolsey had certainly done his utmost in that bad cause, however unwillingly he engaged himself to it in the first instance; for it was a matter of life or death to him to give the king satisfaction. For years the old nobility of England, who were councillors by right of birth and standing, had resented his monopoly of the king's confidence. Several of them were related to Anne Boleyn, and others who were not personally interested backed the king's wishes in the divorce—unpopular as it was in the country generally—as a means of securing the downfall of the Cardinal. Even the Duke of Suffolk, no less an upstart than Wolsey himself, and whom Wolsey had saved at the outset of his career from the vengeance of the other nobles, now most ungratefully turned against him; and when the Legatine Court was prorogued by Campeggio, gave a great rap on the table and said with haughty mien, ‘It was never merry in England whilst we had Cardinals among us.’

Was the Council of Constance a failure? We are apt to think so. True it deposed three popes, and burnt two heresiarchs and mildly condemned some unusually idiotic pamphleteering. It did restore unity to the Church desolated by half a century of schism. But it seemed as though the passion for unity had absorbed all the energies of men who had before talked not merely of unity, but of reformation—both in the head and members of the Church. For enduring reform men had to wait a full century, and when it came it came in other and rougher guides than that contemplated by Parisian doctors. But this was as nothing to the ruin that befel the constitutional schemes of the fathers. They were fond of asserting the superiority of councils to popes. They desired to take security for the future by clipping the wings of the Canonists, and (shall we say?) interpreting the ‘plenitudo potestatis.’ The Pope was still to be head, for Jesus Christ had founded a kingdom; but he was to rule with a Bill of Rights to restrain him to do what he ought, not what he liked. The decree ‘Frequens’ was to serve as a triennial act for the ecclesiastical revolution, and a council which was virtually the Church—at any rate as much so as the eighteenth century House of Commons was in Whig phrase ‘virtually’ the representative of the people of England—was to meet at short intervals to effect reforms and to teach the Pope his place.

The classic view of the struggle between George III. and the Whig aristocracy, which had its climax and catastrophe in the years 1783–4, is given with great force in Sir George Trevelyan's ‘History of the American Revolution.’ ‘By the time,’ he writes, ‘George III. had been on the throne ten years, there were no two opinions about the righteousness and wisdom of the Revolution of 1688. To hear them talk they were all Whigs together, but meanwhile, under their eyes and with their concurrence, a despotism of subtle and insidious texture was being swiftly and deftly interwoven into the entire fabric of the constitution. The strong will, the imperious character and the patient unresting industry of the King, working through subservient Ministers on a corrupt Parliament, had made him master of the State as effectively and far more securely than if his authority had rested on the support of an army of foreign mercenaries.’

M. Varin's learned monograph at present stands alone as an attempt to ascertain the origin of the double monastery, or monastery for men and women. He deals with the subject incidentally as part of a thesis on the points at issue between the Breton and Roman Church, and he handles his whole theme controversially. In spite of this fact, his argument on the subject of double monasteries has met with general acceptance, for example, from Montalembert, Ozanam, Haddan, Professor Mayor, and M. Maurice Prou. M. Varin seeks to prove that St. Rhadegund' foundation at Poitiers was the first example of this form of organisation among the Western nations of the Continent, and that its origin is directly traceable to Irish influences. It is the object of this essay to suggest a different conclusion, to collect the evidence on the subject from the scattered sources where alone it is at present accessible, and incidentally to criticise the arguments adduced by M. Varin.

The reign of James I., covering the first quarter of the seventeenth century, coincides with the period of perhaps the greatest economic confusion in our history. The seeds of England's future greatness as a commercial nation and maritime power had been sown under Elizabeth's rule. In James's reign it was yet too soon for these to bear fruit. It was a critical period for the country which was undergoing an apprenticeship in commerce, trade, and industry. It was as yet doubtful whether she would surmount the difficulties with which she was beset, or whether she would be crushed by their weight.