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Still he told De Quadra to say all that was kind for him; and if, after consideration, the proposed letter should seem desirable, he would not refuse to write it.

died in the midst of these transactions. The claim toleration, and allow mass to be said. Queen of Scots, the link being broken which I shall then know that she is not trifling connected her with the French, was no longer with me." an object of suspicion to Spain. The English lords were already proposing to marry her to Darnley, and unite against Elizabeth their double claims and pretences. In these two the bishop saw the natural instruments of the revolution. Lord Robert Dudley's overture he thought worth encouragement, only as the most simple and certain means of destroying Elizabeth. However the marriage might be managed, he was satisfied that the day which followed it would light her to the Tower.

The correspondence upon this became intensely complicated, the inner drama of selfishness interweaving itself with the outward events of history. In Elizabeth herself there was an evident struggle. At times she abandoned herself to her infatuation. At times her nobler nature re-asserted itself. Now she would complain to De Quadra of Throwing a mask, however, over his scorn, the servitude in which she was held by and reserving his real opinion for the king, Cecil; now she would throw herself again he gave a vague but smooth answer. He on Cecil's guidance, and try to break the could say nothing definite till he heard from spell cast over her by Dudley. Cecil, his master; but a courier should be sent off soon master of the offer made to Philip, posthaste. Meanwhile, he again pressed to dexterously snatched the management of see Elizabeth herself. Some difficulty was the intrigue out of Sidney's and Dudley's made; but the bishop persisting, the queen hands. He and De Quadra, each undergave way in her anxiety to gratify him, and standing the other's game, played against granted him a private interview, when the one another for Elizabeth's very throne and treacherous ambassador probed her secrets. soul. Through the incautious language of The details of that strange meeting one one of De Quadra's household, Elizabeth's would be curious to know; but the bishop treachery to the Reformation got wind in this time kept the mystery of the confes- London, and the indignation became so sional sacred. The sum of what passed, he frantic that Cecil durst not come to an open said, came generally to this: that Eliza- rupture with Dudley, lest there should be beth admitted "she was no angel;" that an instant insurrection. He was forced to she loved Dudley dearly, and hated the re-humor the proposed coming of the nuncio, straint in which she was held by Cecil, and that she would be very grateful if her kind brother would come to her assistance.

embarrassing it only with the conditionwhich he knew could not be complied with— that he should be accredited to Elizabeth with her full title of "defender of the faith." He did not openly object to the king of Spain's intercession in behalf of Dudley; he insisted only that it should be laid before Parliament.

Philip's replies are less complete than De Quadra's letters; but there remain rough drafts and notes in his handwriting, or his secretary's, to show the view which he took of these wonderful intimations. At first he While Elizabeth hesitated, Dudley and professed a decent shock at the conduct of De Quadra were urging, on the other side, his sister-in-law. God, however, he allowed, a secret, or at least a precipitate marriage. could bring good out of evil; and unless he The preparations might be secretly comthought it necessary to conceal his real pleted. A form of Parliament, three lords, thought from his minister, he was inclined three bishops, and nine or ten of the Comto look with a kind of favor on the proposal. mons, could be called together, on whose He loved intrigue and back-door diplomacy, devotion Dudley could depend; and with and there was something in this thing which the nominal sanction thus obtained, the suited his humor. "It will be better not ceremony could be completed before Cecil to reject," he said, "what, in default of or the Council could interfere. Philip other opportunities, may be of use; but it came round to the views of his ambassador, will be well that the queen should show that and ceased to expect any serious good from she is sincere. She should let the Catholic the marriage; but the bishop was still' enbishops out of the Tower. She should pro-couraged to further it, as a means of de

Cecil of course knew all this, and while he could not overcome Elizabeth's passion, either by fear or argument, he was able to control her judgment.

stroying the queen; and he described her of her friends in England, there was her in letter after letter as becoming deeper cousin, Lord Darnley: but whichever of the and more hopelessly entangled. So abso- three she might choose, she was to have lutely in his power did she seem at last, Elizabeth's throne for her dowry. And the that he believed he could ruin her with a Spanish ambassador was able to congratuword. The scheme of the mock Parliament late himself that at last the course of the being relinquished as dangerous, an attempt English Catholics was clear. They knew was made to work privately on the lords. where to look and what to do. On the 23d of April, when the Knights of the Garter met for the annual feast, Lord Sussex rose and proposed that the queen should be invited to marry Lord Robert Dudley. The Duke of Norfolk, Arundel, and Mon- The nuncio question pressing, he cartague started to their feet in indignant op- ried a resolution in council, that for divers position. They proposed instead that she reasons, the coming of an envoy from the should be entreated to marry; but that Bishop of Rome was inexpedient and danDudley's name should be significantly gerous. Elizabeth was forced into a conomitted. Sussex found no supporters; sent, and a formal refusal was sent. Philip, nor is it likely that he himself would have less skilful in such matters than he became voted for his own motion. The amended in later years, would at once have broken off petition was presented, and received with a all relations with her; but the Bishop of burst of rage. The queen said, if she Aquila desired permission, which he easily married, it should be to please herself, and obtained, to play, out a little further the not them. The lords listened in cold si- Dudley drama. It was an amusement to lence; and she had gained nothing by the him to watch the working of the ultimate influence on Elizabeth's mind; and never doubting that if the temptation was well managed, the woman's weakness would in the end prevail, he entertained himself with observing her as she trifled with destruction. He heard with patience the exasperated outcries of Lord Robert, he listened with affectionate sympathy to Elizabeth's lamentations over the tyranny of the heretics, which she was unable to resist. Philip still to write the letter which Elizabeth had asked for, in the hope that it might tempt her into a secret marriage. His single object was to betray her into some act which would outrage the Protestants beyond endurance, when, "abhorred" as she had made herself, she would fall over the precipice to perdition.

move.

Meanwhile two parallel intrigues can be traced in active progress. Cecil, whose chief object was to save the Reformation (and to save the Reformation he well knew was his only way to save the queen), was busy with Bedford and Sir Nicholas Bacon keeping up artificial difficulties in the way of the coming of the nuncio. He desired to entangle the policy of the Government with the interests of Protestantism so inextricably that they could not be severed. An insurrection in Ireland, in which the proposed nuncio's hand could be traced, came conveniently to his assistance, and Elizabeth not daring to interfere, a number of Catholics were arrested and imprisoned purposely to exasperate them; while, again, on the side of France, Cecil established a close and intimate communication with the Prince of Condé and the Chiefs of the League.

He even advised

I will close this hasty article with a letter which breathes the very spirit of the scene and time; so keen and clear it is, that three centuries seem to roll back from off the On the other side, the Spanish Govern- world's age as we read. It is dated the ment and the Catholics were forming rela- 30th of June, 1561, and is addressed by the tions with the Queen of Scots. Philip bishop to Philip. There has been some offered her his son, Don Carlos, and Don fresh ill-usage, deserved or undeserved, of Carlos was in many ways a tempting bait Catholics. A number of them had been both to her and to the Scottish lords. In taken to Westminster, and fined for having default of Don Carlos, there was an Aus- attended mass. "Five or six clergy, who," trian prince; or, if she preferred the choice the bishop said, "were pilloried for necro

mancy. A horoscope had been found upon them, with a calculation of the queen's and Lord Robert's nativities, with other papers and strange things; he did not know what. They would have been of no moment had they not fallen into the hands of men who were glad to turn priests into ridicule."

"On St. John's day [the letter proceeds] the Lord Robert gave a party, to which by the queen's order I was invited; and I took occasion of these sentences to ask her whether her secretaries and councillors were satisfied, or whether there were to be more of such doings? I put it to her also whether the realm had received any particular advantage as yet from their endeavors to make discoveries of treason? She replied that the secretary was not in fault, and that the world might say what it pleased. At last, however, she said it could not be denied that your majesty had been a universal benefactor in this realm, and had never injured a creature. With more to the same effect. "I continued to show myself shocked and displeased with the conduct of the councillors; I told her I was surprised at her conduct. She ought not to give herself up to men so led away by passion as they were, especially in matters which directly or indirectly concerned religion. If she yielded to them and their humors she would never pacify the kingdom or know either peace or quietness.

"She listened to me with her usual patience, and thanked me for what I had said. Afterwards, in the evening, we were in a barge, from which there was a view of the games; and she, Lord Robert, and I, being alone at one end of it, they began to flirt (comencáron á tratar burlas), which she likes better than talking of business. The amusement was carried pretty far, and at last Lord Robert said to her that here was I upon the spot ready to act as minister, and if she liked they might then and there be betrothed. She showed no sign of displeasure. She was afraid, she said, that I did not know sufficient English. I encouraged them for a time in their coquetries. At last, speaking seriously, I told them both that if they would be guided by me, they would shake off the tyranny of those councillors, who had made themselves masters of their sovereign and of the state; they would reestablish religion, and give back to the realm the peace and union of which it was in such deep need. They could then marry at their pleasure, and with that condition I would officiate at their nuptials with the greatest happiness. Then they could punish at their pleasure whoever tried to thwart them; for with your majesty as their support

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"I enlarged on this because I see that if we cannot separate her and Robert from them, things will go on as they are; whereas, if God please that we can make a breach between them, we can then do all that we wish with ease. I have thought it best to go on in this smooth way because, if I kept aloof from the queen I shall leave the field open to the heretics, and shall be playing into their hands; whereas if I keep her in good-humor with your majesty, I have at any rate some hope of persuading her, especially should these heretics give her an opening, as they are not unlikely to do. They cannot endure to see me so much at the queen's ear, or on such good terms with Lord Robert.

"Your majesty may perhaps think that by acting in such a manner I am prejudicing the cause of the Catholics, but I beseech you to have no uneasiness on this score. You may assure yourself that I know what I am about, and that I shall not go too far. The Catholics are devoted to your majesty, and there is no danger in putting their affection something to the test. It is not three days since the persons of whom your majesty knows have been again in communication with me. They assure me that their party never were so strong as at the present moment, nor the queen so detested and abhorred."

Cecil, and Cecil only, saved Elizabeth from the ruin with which she was dallying. The knowledge that she escaped at last into a reign of outward success and splendor, hardens our judgment, and provokes us rather to condemn her folly than sympathize in her trial. Were it not so, we could not think without pity of a young woman of twenty-seven, whose nobler and baser natures were contending for supremacy, entangled in a shameful passion from which she could not free herself, which had involved her already in disgrace, and perhaps in crime; and with the tempter at her ear mocking her with the hope of an elysium, behind which, as he well knew, lay a dungeon and a scaffold.

But the tempter failed, and Elizabeth was rescued; rescued perhaps rather by her intelligence than by her conscience; for she could not part wholly with her lover, who remained til his death to discredit her government by is share in it. She, however,

if not Lord Dudley, had sense enough to of her subjects grew with the hatred of her obey Cecil, and she had good feeling enough enemies. She became a goddess, an idol of not to quarrel with him as a meaner person clay transfigured by imagination into a diwould have quarrelled, for the service which he had rendered her. Left to her own guidance, she would have buried her name in infamy. Submitting to follow Cecil, she became the Gloriana, the Throned Vestal of the West, the heroine and the champion of the Reformation. Her faults were forgotten in the triumph of her policy, and the love

vinity. Her intellect grew with her years; and her thwarted passions were compelled for the future to expend themselves in trifling. But these dark hours of her trial left their shadow on her to the last. She lived with a hungry and unsatisfied heart, and she died miserable.

J. A. FROUDE.

The Near and the Heavenly Horizons. By Madame de Gasparin. Edinburgh: Strahan & Co. London: Hamilton & Co.

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Athenæum.

Considerations on the Human Mind, its Present
By Richard

State, and Future Destination.
Grattan, M.D. Manwaring.

| Near and the Heavenly Horizons," they will bestow a work that will discourse" things pleas ant as well as "things profitable." The story THIS is a charming little book, translated of" The Poor Boy," in the first part, is exquisite from the French of Madame de Gasparin. The for its delicacy of treatment, whilst "The Parastories which make up the first part of the some-dise we fear" and "The Authority on which I what far-fetched title are graceful and touching; rest" will bear out all the commendation we the style reminds us of George Sand in her best have bestowed upon its religious tendency.— and most healthful works. Some of the sketches, slight as they are, may take rank with "La petite Fadette" and the "Marne au Diable," they have a more refined and delicate tone: they are equally true to human nature, equally full of life and local color; though perhaps less vigorous, and not fully worked out into a sustained To do any thing with this work would require story,the difference is betwixt the sketch and us to give some account of Dr. Grattan, whose the sketch expanded into a completed and devel-life pervades it, and then we could not attempt oped picture. In the second portion, called "The any brief description. Such a mixture of autoDistant Horizon," Madame de Gasparin dis- biography, theology, politics, metaphysics, medcourses of her own religious faith and experience: icine, and a few more than all things besides, is it is genuine, graceful, and thoroughly human; not published every day. As Dr. Grattan her faith is interpenetrable with her own human thinks, and thinks strongly, and expresses himsympathies-she speaks only what she herself self in a way of his own, his book is seldom unknows and feels and has had experience of; what interesting. People who cannot tolerate a hereshe says will find its own way to the hearts of all tic should keep out of his way; for he is that who are in the same condition. Madame de exceptional case, a Unitarian assailant. This Gasparin has the touch of genius, which has the much-attacked sect, generally speaking, is only true strange gift of speaking to every one "in too happy to be let alone, or, at most, allowed their own tongue." Her piety may be called to be very quietly and formally argumentative. mystical," and her theology would not per- But Dr. Grattan does not mean the orthodox to haps stand its ground in a Scotch sermon, but have a monopoly of strong censure, and he lays it will find its way to the hearts and understand- about him handsomely, and gives the "Athanaings which would never open to the Assembly's sians" as good as they bring.-Athenæum. Catechism or to the expositions and exercitations of "a Sound Divine." It is the genuine truth and individuality of what Madame de Gasparin says which gives the irresistible charm: there is nothing pretentious in her exhortations, but a power of eloquent sympathy which disarms criticism and drops like honey and manna, or pearls and diamonds, if the reader prefers the old fairy allegory of gracious words. Those who wish to give or recommend good books to friends who are sad or suffering, may feel sure that in bestowing Madame de Gasparin's "The

Australian Sketches. By Thomas McCombie, Esq. London: Sampson Low, Son, and Co. A COLLECTION of detached pictures of Australian life, the scene of which lies for the most part in the gold-fields of the colony. Mr. McCombie tells us nothing that is particularly new, but he describes what he has seen in a straightforward manner, and his narrative is by no means devoid of interest.

From The Spectator, 1 June. THE DUTY OF ENGLAND AND THE

AMERICAN CRISIS.

course. Even O'Connell, unprincipled as he may sometimes have been, never on this point shrank from a vigorous assertion of the truth. In the very height of his agitation, when the vote of the American-Irish was invaluable, the great demagogue denounced the crime his feebler successor blandly declares it inexpedient to discuss. We cannot doubt that Mr. Bright will be found at last on the side of the oppressed, but to check discussion is to aid those who alone in a free community can be apprehensive of debate.

THE time has arrived when the national will on the American quarrel ought to be expressed. A party, numerous in Parliament and powerful in the press, is beginning to intrigue for the recognition of the South. They are aided by the fears of the cotton dealers, who dread an intermission of their supplies, by the anxiety of commercial men who see their best market summarily closed, and by the abiding dislike of the aristocracy for the men and There is too much reason to fear that the manners of the North. For the moment, government, though certainly not prejudiced their object is apparently to deprecate de- in favor of the South, allows itself to be debate. They dare not as yet brave openly ceived as to the true state of public feeling. the prejudices of freemen, or advocate a The country believes that the Cabinet, howcause based on antagonism to all that Eng- ever cautious, may still be trusted where lishmen hold dear. But they hope, if the slave-owners are concerned, and, as usual, nation can only be kept silent, they may when satisfied, is quiescent. But the Mintalk the administration into acts which will istry will make a fatal mistake if it concommit us ultimately to the Confederated founds calm with indifference, or believes States. Their object was palpable in the that the people would accept favor to the slight conversation which occurred on Tues- South either with apathy or applause. With day night. Mr. Duncombe brought forward the policy of neutrality, provided it be real, the case of some British subjects forcibly Englishmen of all opinions may concur. enrolled in the Southern militia, and with The majority, with whom freedom is not a the rashness which so often destroys the effect of his sincerity, suggested what would in practice be an attack upon the South. Up sprang Mr. Bernal Osborne with an arrogant denial of his facts, to declare the North guilty of outrage in aiding an insurrection of the slaves. He was followed by Mr. Bright, who, with a curious reminiscence of his old pæans in honor of the republic, averred that an educated race could not be malevolent for long, and that discussion at present could only envenom strife. Englishmen, in short, were to look on at the greatest contest of modern times, and restrain themselves, if possible, from even wishing for the right. This position, when assumed by the member for Liskeard, excites in us, we acknowledge, but slight surprise. Sympathy for suffering is not the satirist's trade, especially when the sufferer is "low." But it is with regret that we see the member for Birmingham play, however unconsciously, into Southern hands. It is not from economists that we expect the magnanimity which can forget a tariff to defend a principle. But we do expect that a member who is either a freeman or a firebrand, who protests that the tax-payers of Great Britain are the deluded serfs of a few families, will at least stand up manfully on behalf of the slave. The harshest aristocracy in the world is in arms to extend the most brutalizing of tyrannies, and it is not from the Radical leader that we expect a protest against placing an obstacle in its

synonyme for free trade, would rather, perhaps, see government resolute to prohibit the extension of the area over which slavery is law, but the practical difficulties are great. Many are willing to sit still and leave the issue to the American people and the Providence which can use even the rowdies of New York to extend a great benefit to mankind. But if the neutrality is to be only official, if our "moral aid" is to be lent to one side or the other, if the sympathies of England are to be formally expressed, there can be no reasonable doubt as to our side. Every consideration alike of morality and convenience impels us irrresistibly towards the North.

There is no need to employ the vulgar argument that, cæteris paribus, it is as well for a state without friendships to be on the winning side. The North, whether weary of agitation or eager for war, whether its enthusiasm remains or gives place to the reaction Englishmen expect, must still fight on till victory is achieved. The loss of the Mississippi is ruin to the West, and material interests as strong as moral obligations compel the Unionists to succeed.

Still less it is necessary to follow Mr. Clay, and hint at the wrath our action may evoke in a nation whose friendship may one day be desired. There is an apology for that sentence when coming from Mr. Clay which could be extended to no other politician. He is not, as the Saturday Review asserts, a son of Henry Clay, or a phil

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