obstacle, so that they fled along Wilstrop Wood side as fast and as thick as could be.' It is probable that many of them were here ridden down and shot; it is certain that a hundred and fifty years later sawyers at work in its gloomy shade found bullets embedded in the trees. Rupert himself, separated from all companions in the chances of the flight, escaped by leaping his horse over a high and dangerous fence into a bean field, where, sheltered by the growing beans, he played the creep-hedge,' far from the battle where he fain would have been.

Rupert was not the only leader at that moment flying from this strange battle which made and sullied so many reputations. The victory which the Royalist cavalry under Goring achieved over less formidable opponents than those who had routed Rupert, exposed the Roundhead infantry to a terrible ordeal. First Fairfax's Yorkshiremen, then the Scotch reserves, turned and fled. One by one, as night fell, the regiments broke up and ran, till at last Leven himself, who could see nothing in the dubious light but his men making off the field, supposed that the battle must everywhere be a rout, and fled fast and far-how far, let those inquire who laugh over the misadventures of good men. But, though Leven himself had gone, the chief work of his life, the Scotch army he had made, remained in force enough to save the cause of freedom. Three of his regiments, if the brave old man had but known it, still stood like rocks amid the flood, beating back the continuous storm of horse and foot. So weltered the battle in confusion and disaster for the Roundhead cause, when Cromwell, returning at the head of his cavalry, took stock of the victorious bands of Royalists ranging at large over the field, or fiercely grouped round the Scotch battalions at bay. In moments like this, which bewildered more experienced generals, Oliver still kept his head as clear and heart as undismayed as other men, two hours before, when they had first gone down shouting into the ordered battle. Keeping their men well in hand, the leaders of the Puritan cavalry conducted their operations with a methodical division of labour and precision of purpose which, at this stage of the fight, was sure to secure victory, and soon scattered the victorious Royalist horse. And now, by the light of a strong moon upon the shadowless open field, the reapers reaped through the short summer night the dreadful harvest. Newcastle's white coats, the old guard of the northern Cavalier army, worthy of a more valiant leader, were cut down man by man as they

stood. When the sun came round again into the east, it saw, not Rupert leading his unconquered squadrons to the charge, but four thousand naked corpses, and wounded men without number, stretched upon the moor, where a little band of ghastly victors were ordering the files of captives. Meanwhile in York the 'gentlemen came dropping in one by one, not knowing but marvelling and doubting what fortune might befall one another.' Rupert, after lonely adventures in the darkened hedgerows, found his way within the walls shortly before midnight. He was welcomed with tears by the unshepherded crowd that thronged the streets, waiting for some well-known voice to speak the word of authority which could alone prevent further ruin and dispersion. The moment put the leaders to the test of their true qualities. Newcastle, with an aristocratic selfishness, on a point of personal dignity worthy of Sir Willoughby Patterne, declared that he could not endure the laughter of the Court,' and made off to Scarborough to take ship for the Continent. Rupert, gathering together all who would follow a drooping flag, rode out of the city towards the north-west, which appeared to him to be the safest direction for the retreat of the army. He halted at Richmond Castle, on the great rock round which the Swale sweeps out of its rugged valley into the plain of York. There, with one foot on the hills ready for flight, he waited to give the scattered Cavaliers time to rejoin him. Then, turning his back on the lost Ridings, he led his broken forces up Wensleydale and over the pass into North Lancashire, whence after some time he effected a retreat into Wales.

Such a crushing disaster, followed without a day's respite by the perpetual worries and anxieties involved in the work of leading about a beaten army, for once told on the spirit of sober and cheerful endurance with which it was Rupert's wont to take the blows of fortune. His friends confessed to each other with alarm that the temperance which, among other good qualities, distinguished him from Goring and Wilmot, had yielded to the cynical sensuality of a man who had given up all true hope in life. But before winter fell Rupert was once more master of himself, and never, amid all the storm of adversity through which he was yet to pass, did he again lose his self-respect.

Marston Moor made Rupert's life a failure, so far as anything so noble fails. His military reputation never recovered, and all that he loved even better than his own fame, the

friends who had always stood by him, the brother whom nothing could part from him, the uncle with whom he had so many lovers' quarrels, all were involved in that common ruin, which in moments of depression he must have suspected to be the work of his own hand. His sensitiveness on this point is pathetically suggested by the fact that, for all the long remaining years of his life, he carried about on his person that letter from Charles which he maintained to be an order to give battle, as a man carries the thing which in all the world touches him the most dearly. He himself had a double share of the cup of bitterness mixed for his whole party on that fatal day. Indeed, life never smiled on him again. The years of pain and poverty, of perpetual fruitless endurance by land and sea, the death of Maurice, the thousand ignominies of a twice-exiled doubly homeless adventurer, are all to be read in Miss Scott's well-told story. And even after the restoration of the Stuarts Rupert had little joy in life. His misfortunes had made him sad and sardonic, though not wicked or cynical; and he regarded with increasing disgust a Court where power was usually obtained by statesmen as unprincipled as Digby, and fashion always set by gentlemen as licentious as Goring. And so, amid public duties performed without ambition, and private activities exercised without pretension, his life passed away sadly, but not ignobly, amid the memory of the better men among whom he had lived in his hot youth and the beautiful old world which had sunk with the dying day off Marston Moor.

But while this battle had ensured the destruction of that fair society which had kindled the ardour of Rupert's early idealism, it did not serve to establish on an enduring basis the principles for which Leven was contending. Indeed, from the moment when he was brought back to the field to find what a victory had been won, he and his cause began to be entangled in that iron net of political difficulties which Cromwell died vainly attempting to break. Leven was too old even to attempt to grapple with it; his ability to direct the current of events seemed gone. This short northern campaign had illustrated better than any that had yet been fought the advantage of loyalty to principles over loyalty to persons; in the south, Essex had himself shown too much of the Oxford spirit of jealousy. But the divided minds of Rupert and Goring, Newcastle and Eythin, who followed the Earl in his flight overseas from the laughter of the Court,' had not been a match for the intense purpose

of Leven, Cromwell, and Fairfax. When, however, the scale of victory inclined towards the Parliament, this very intensity of purpose began at once to divide as strongly as it had before united. If in public life a principle that is believed like religion binds closer than personal ties, it also divides more irreparably. The petty quarrels of the young men who scowled at each other across the king's councilboard, the contempt Rupert felt for Newcastle, and the fear Newcastle felt for Rupert, could never have set them to levy war on each other. Though such rivalry was one of the causes of failure, it would not have marred victory if victory had come. But, on the other hand, since Leven and his friends truly believed that Christ's Covenant, signed publicly by all men, would prove the panacea for England as well as for his own country, while Cromwell believed no less that every man should make his own unsigned covenant with God, the day was not far distant when the victors of Marston Moor should meet again at Dunbar. From that moment there was no longer any real hope of giving a new direction to English history, and of completely rooting out all sacerdotal tendencies from English religion.

But Leven's work was not in vain. He, more than any one man, had helped Scotland to save her national existence and her Covenant to be a Protestant people. Because in Scotland there was only one principle of Puritanism, that one principle became embodied in the national institutions. The fact, of which Carlyle is loud in complaint, that the Scotch Puritans never found a hero to lead them, though it resulted first in Dunbar and then in Bothwell Brig, did not prevent their final victory. In the hour of the first and greatest danger Alexander Leslie had served their needs on Dunse Law. And therefore he will never be forgotten by a people who, though now prosperously scattered over the face of the earth, remain a people still, because their ancestors, when Charles decreed that Scotland should be Scotland no more, gathered themselves together without counting the enemy or thinking on the penalties of treason, against a power which seemed overwhelming, but at daybreak vanished like the mist.

ART. VIII.-1. An Atlas of Representative Stellar Spectra. By Sir WILLIAM HUGGINS, K.C.B., and Lady HUGGINS. London: 1899.

2. Spectra of Southern Stars. By FRANK MCCLEAN, F.R.S. London: 1898.

3. Comparative Photographic Spectra of Stars to the 3 Magnitude. By FRANK MCCLEAN, F.R.S. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society,' vol. 191. London: 1898.

4. On the Chemical Classification of the Stars. By Sir NORMAN LOCKYER, K.C.B. 'Proceedings of the Royal Society,' May 4, 1899.

5. Spectra of Bright Stars photographed with the 11-inch Draper Telescope, and discussed by ANTONIA C. MAURY. 'Annals of the Astronomical Observatory of Harvard College,' vol. xxviii. part 1. Cambridge, U.S.A.: 1897. 6. Untersuchungen über die Spectra von 528 Sternen. Von H. C. VOGEL und J. WILSING. Publicationen des astrophysikalischen Observatoriums zu Potsdam,' Nr. 39. Potsdam: 1899.

7. Photographs of Stars, Star-Clusters, and Nebula. 2 vols. By ISAAC ROBERTS, D.Sc., F.R.S. London : 1894, 1900. IN the year 1856 Mr. William Huggins equipped an

observatory in connexion with his private residence at Tulse Hill. The instruments erected there were of the usual type, and they were for some time employed in the usual way. Transits were duly taken, occultations watched, planetary surfaces scanned and delineated, with no important result save the observer's gain in technical skill. He was unsatisfied; vague promptings of originality pursued him. Uncertain what direction to take, 'I sought about in 'my mind,' he tells us, for the possibility of research upon 'the heavens in a new direction, or by new methods.' New methods were not slow to present themselves. In 1859 Kirchhoff discovered the key to the hieroglyphics of the solar spectrum, and the vast and varied realm of astronomical physics was thrown open for exploration and conquest.

The invention of the prismatic mode of attack upon celestial problems marked a fresh epoch in science. By means of the telescope we learn the direction from which the heavenly bodies send us their light; by means of the spectroscope we learn what kind of light they send us.

VOL. CXCI. NO. CCCXCII.

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