treason. Perhaps the fear of their interposing, in order to obtain his pardon, hastened his death. Elizabeth continued, for some time, irresolute concerning his fate, and could not bring herself to consign into the hands of the executioner, a man who had once possessed her favour so entirely, without a painful struggle between her resentment against his late misconduct, and her ancient affection towards him. The distress to which he was now reduced, tended naturally to soften the former, while it revived the latter with new tenderness; and the intercession of one faithful friend, who had interest with the queen, might perhaps have saved his life, and procured him a remission, which, of herself, she was ashamed to grant. But this generous nobleman had at that time no such friend. Elizabeth, solicited incessantly by her ministers, and offended with the haughtiness of Essex, who, as she imagined, scorned to sue for pardon, at last commanded the sentence to be put in execution. No sooner was the blow struck, than she repented of her own rashness, and bewailed his death with the deepest sorrow. James always considered him as one who had fallen a martyr to his service, and, after his accession to the English throne, restored his son to his honours, as well as his associates in the conspiracy, and distinguished them with his favour.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

FEW ever swayed a sceptre with greater popularity, prudence, and policy, than queen Elizabeth. She discovered great wisdom in her government, and in her transactions with foreign powers. In Scotland, her commands were often of greater authority than those of its own rulers; and by en

deavouring to balance the strength of the different factions contending for power, sometimes with great promises, and at other times with men and money, she kept them so employed in their own quarrels, that during her whole reign she had little to fear from that quarter. The duplicity of her conduct, in many instances, was unworthy of her station; and her treatment of the unfortunate Mary, will leave a lasting stain upon her character. But minutely to trace the progress of Elizabeth's policy towards Scotland, during a reign of nearly fortysix years, would far exceed the limits of this work; we shall therefore in this place transcribe only the account of her last illness and character, as drawn by Dr. Robertson.

After having long enjoyed a good state of health, the effect of a sound constitution, and the reward of uncommon regularity and temperance, Elizabeth began, this winter, (1603,) to feel her vigour decrease, and to be sensible of the infirmities of old age. Having removed on a very stormy day from Westminster to Richmond, whither she was impatient to retire, her complaints increased. She had no formed fever; her pulse was good; but she ate little, and could not sleep. Her distemper seemed to proceed from a deep melancholy, which appeared both in her countenance and behaviour. She delighted in solitude; she sat constantly in the dark; and was often drowned in tears.

No sooner was the queen's indisposition known, than persons of all ranks, and of all different sects and parties, redoubled their applications to the king of Scots, and vied with each other in professions of attachment to his person, and in promises of submission to his government. Even some of her own servants, weary of the length of her reign, fond of novelty, impatient to get rid of the burden of gratitude for past benefits, and expecting to share in the

liberality of a new prince, began to desert her. And crowds of people hurried towards Scotland, eager to pre-occupy the favour of the successor, or afraid of being too late in paying homage to him. Meanwhile, the queen's disease increased, and her melancholy appeared to be settled and incurable. Various conjectures were formed concerning the causes of a disorder, from which she seemed to be exempted by the natural cheerfulness of her temper. Some imputed it to her being forced, contrary to her inclination, to pardon the earl of Tyronne, whose rebellion had for many years created her much trouble. Others imagined that it arose from observing the ingratitude of her courtiers, and the levity of her people, who beheld her health declining with most indecent indifference, and looked forward to the accession of the Scottish king, with an impatience, which they could not conceal. The most common opinion, at that time, and perhaps the most probable, was, that it flowed from grief for the earl of Essex. She retained an extraordinary regard for the memory of that unfortunate nobleman; and though she often complained of his obstinacy, seldom mentioned his name without tears. An accident happened soon after her retiring to Richmond, which revived her affection with new tenderness, and imbittered her sorrows. The countess of Nottingham, being on her deathbed, desired to see the queen, in order to reveal something to her, without discovering which, she could not die in peace. When the queen came into her chamber, she told her, that while Essex lay under sentence of death, he was desirous of imploring pardon in the manner which the queen herself had prescribed, by returning a ring, which during the height of his favour she had given him, with a promise that if, in any future distress, he sent that back to her as a token, it should entitle him to her protection; that

lady Scroop was the person he intended to employ in order to present it; that, by a mistake, it was put into her hands instead of lady Scroop's; and that she having communicated the matter to her husband, one of Essex's most implacable enemies, he had forbid her either to carry the ring to the queen, or to return it to the earl. The countess, having thus disclosed her secret, begged the queen's forgiveness; but Elizabeth, who now saw both the malice of the earl's enemies, and how unjustly she had suspected him of inflexible obstinacy, replied, "God may forgive you, but I never can ;" and left the room in great emotion. From that moment, her spirit sunk entirely; she could scarce taste food; she refused all the medicines prescribed by her physicians; declaring that she wished to die, and would live no longer. No entreaty could prevail on her to go to bed; she sat on cushions, during ten days and nights, pensive, and silent, holding her finger almost continually in her mouth, with her eyes open, and fixed on the ground. The only thing to which she seemed to give any attention, were the acts of devotion, performed in her apartment, by the archbishop of Canterbury; and in these she joined with great appearance of fervour. Wasted, at last, as well by anguish of mind, as by long abstinence, she expired without a struggle, on Thursday the 24th day of March, in the seventieth year of her age, and in the forty-fifth of her reign.

Foreigners often accuse the English of indifference and disrespect towards their princes. But without reason; no people are more grateful than they to those monarchs who merit their gratitude. The names of Edward III. and Henry V. are mentioned by the English of this age with the same warmth as they were by those who shared in the blessings and splendour of their reigns. The

memory of Elizabeth is still adored in England. And the historians of that kingdom, after celebrating her love of her people; her sagacity in discerning their true interest; her steadiness in pursuing it; her wisdom in the choice of her ministers; the glory she acquired by arms; the tranquillity she secured to her subjects; and the increase of fame, of riches, and of commerce, which were the fruits of all these; justly rank her among the most illustrious princes. Even the defects in her character, they observe, were not of a kind pernicious to her people. Her excessive frugality was not accompanied with the love of hoarding; and though it prevented some great undertakings, and rendered the success of others incomplete, it introduced economy into her administration, and exempted the nation from many burdens, which a monarch, more profuse, or more enterprising, must have imposed. Her slowness in rewarding her servants sometimes discouraged useful merit; but it prevented the undeserving from acquiring power and wealth, to which they had no title. Her extreme jealousy of those princes, who pretended to dispute her right to the crown, led her to take such precautions, as tended no less to the public safety, than to her own; and to court the affections of her people, as the firmest support of her throne. Such is the picture which the English draw of this great queen.

Whoever undertakes to write the history of Scotland finds himself obliged, frequently, to view her in a very different, and in a less amiable light. Her authority in that kingdom, during the greater part of her reign, was little inferior to that which she possessed in her own. But this authority, acquired at first by a service of great importance to the nation, she exercised in a manner extremely pernicious to its happiness. By her industry in fo