meant the blood he was to shed in fighting for the right; and he put on a black doublet (which is a sort of jacket), and this was black in token of death, of which a knight was never to be afraid. Then he went into the church, and there he spent the night in prayer. He heard the priests singing their chant in the darkness of the big church, and he thought of his sins, and steadfastly purposed to lead a new life. In the morning he confessed his sins, walked up to the altar, laid down his belt and sword, and then knelt at the foot of the altar steps. He received the Holy Communion, and then the lord who was to make him a knight gave him the accolade—three strokes on the back of the bare neck with the flat side of the sword—and said:

"In the name of Saint George I make thee a knight,"—and bade him take back his sword—"in the name of God and Saint George, and use it like a true knight as a terror and punishment for evil-doers, and a defence for widows and orphans, and the poor, and the oppressed, and the priests—the servants of God."

The priests and the ladies came round him and put on his gilt spurs, and his coat of mail, and his breastplate, and armpieces, and gauntlets, and took the sword and girded it on him. Then the young man swore to be faithful to God, the King, and woman; his squire brought him his helmet, and his horse's shoes rang on the church pavement and under the tall arches as his squire led the charger up the aisle. In the presence of priests, and knights, and ladies assembled, the young knight sprang upon his horse and caracoled before the altar, brandishing his lance and his sword. And then away to do the good work he was sworn to.

Many, of course, forgot their promises and broke their vows, but in those wild times many a rough man was made gentle, many a cruel man less cruel, and many a faint-hearted one made bold by the noble thoughts from which the idea of chivalry sprang.

Now, you know, England is governed by the Queen and Parliament. But in those old days England was ruled by the King and by such nobles as had money and strength enough to be able to rule by force. These nobles were indeed a terror to the people. They lived in strong, stoutly-built castles, with a great moat or ditch round them, and having always many retainers and armed servants, they were often able to resist the King himself. It was the growing power and riches of the King which they most dreaded, for he only could do them harm. It was then for their own sakes—to guard their own persons, to protect their own property against the King—rather than from any desire to help the people, that the barons resisted first John and then Henry.

The resistance grew so strong that at last there was war in England. At the Battle of Lewes, Simon de Montfort defeated Henry and took him prisoner, and with him was his son, Prince Edward. Then at last a Parliament was called. Two knights were sent to it from each county, and from every town two citizens. It was chiefly to get these towns represented in Parliament that the great Earl opposed the King.

Prince Edward was very anxious to escape and fight another battle for his father. So he pretended to be very ill. When he got better he asked his gaolers to let him go out riding for the benefit of his health. They agreed, but of course, they sent a guard of soldiers out with him to see that he did not escape. Prince Edward rode out for several days with them and never even tried to get away. But one day he begged them to ride races with each other, while he looked on. They did so, and when their horses were quite tired, he shouted, "I have long enough enjoyed the pleasure of your company, gentlemen, and I bid you good-day," put spurs to his horse, and was soon out of their reach. His friend, the Earl of Gloucester, joined him, and they soon raised an army and defeated the great Earl at Evesham.

"Let us commend our souls to God," said Simon, as Prince Edward and his men came down upon him and the little band of knights who stood by his side. One by one the knights fell, till Simon only was left. He hacked his way through his foes, and had nearly escaped when his horse was brought to the ground, and a death wound was given him from behind. "It is God's grace," he said, and died. But though the leader died, the work was done, and a Parliament established in England.

Some of the priests in England had grown very wicked and greedy. They neglected their duties and thought only of feasting and making themselves comfortable. But some good monks came over from Rome, and determined to try to show the English priests what a Christian's duty was. They made a vow to be poor, and to deny themselves everything, except just enough food to keep body and soul together. They would not even have books at first, but spent all the money they could collect on the poor. They nursed the sick and helped the unfortunate. They would not wear pretty clothes or beautiful vestments, but were dressed in plain grey or black serge, with a rope round the waist, and bare feet. Although they were foreigners and could speak but little English, they encouraged people to write in the English language instead of in Latin or French.

It was a favourite dream of the early English and French kings to take Jerusalem and the Holy Land from the hands of the Saracens, and to let Christians be the guardians of the place where Christ lived and died. To do this they were constantly making war on the Saracens, and these wars were called Crusades, and the knights who went to them Crusaders. Crusaders carried a red cross on their banners and on their shields. The Saracens' banners and shields had a crescent like a new moon. For two hundred years this fighting went on, and the last of our English princes to take part in it was Prince Edward. He had only three hundred knights with him, and was not able to attack Jerusalem, because he could not get together more than seven thousand men. His knights went on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, but he stayed in his camp at Acre. One day a messenger came into his tent with letters, and while he was reading them the wicked messenger stabbed him. He had been sent to do so by the Saracens, because they were afraid of this brave prince. The prince caught the blow on his arm, and kicked the messenger to the ground, but the man rose and rushed at him again with the knife. The dagger just grazed the prince's forehead, and seizing a wooden footstool Prince Edward dashed out the messenger's brains. His wife, the Princess Eleanor, was afraid the dagger was poisoned. So she sucked the blood from his wound with her own lips, and so most likely saved his life. But he was very ill in spite of this, and England nearly lost one of her best and bravest princes.

As soon as he was well enough to