SECOND VERSE. How shall I woo thee, Beautiful Spring? Oh, yes! for sweet Music alone has the spell What shall my offering be? Shall I search the abode of the Ocean King. And a chaplet of pearls bring to thee? THE LANDING OF COLUMBUS. Painted by Chapman-Engraved or wood by Butler-See Embellishment. ILLUSTRATED BY J. SEAWELL JONES, OF SHOCCO. It was on the twelfth of October, 1492, that Columbus landed upon the island of San Salvador. The incidents of his voyage previous to that event are among the most poetical subjects that ever came under the notice of history. The variations of the needle; the superstitious terror of the crews of the squadron; the strange appearance of the sea, covered for leagues with weeds and evergreens resembling sunken islands -the never-varying east wind sweeping them onward in an unknown sea; the constant flight of birds, as if to welcome them westward; the clouds that loomed on the western horizon like distant mountains; the strange meteors that gleamed across the heavens; and finally, on the night of the eleventh, the glimmering, shifting light that caught the watchful eye of Columbus: all these mysterious and beautiful associations but prepare the mind for a just appreciation of the wonderful event which the genius of Chapman has signalized. On the morning of the twelfth, the new world broke upon the vision of the hardy voyageur. The crystal seas around him were gemmed with flowery islands, which ranged on to the westward as far as the eye could reach, all blooming as they faded away. The meridian-tropical sunshine glittered among the richly-hung fruit-trees of San Salvador, and the soft and fragrant winds scarcely broke the crystal waves that bathed its shores. Columbus, clad in a rich suit of scarlet, standing upon the prow of his boat, with the gorgeous banner of Spain folded in his arms, approached the beach, and the simple natives fled in dismay to the woods. He sprang upon the shore, and, "throwing himself upon his knees, kissed the earth, and returned thanks to God with tears of joy." He then drew his sword, displayed the royal banner, and took possession of the new-found land in the names of Ferdinand and Isabella. Our Anglo-American painter, however, justly conceives the noble character of Columbus, not in the act of taking possession in the name of Spain, but in the simple approach to the shores of the new world. Mr. Greenough once conceived a statue of Columbus, ects. which he intended as the first of a series of American subHis conception is so poetical that I shall here introduce it as an incident to the illustration of the painting of our friend; and I can but congratulate my countrymen that two such artists as Greenough and Chapman should be found students of the same subject, and both alike ambitious to adorn the history of their country, not only with their names, but with their achievements. The sculptor's imagination cast Columbus in a massive chair of state, surrounded with the costumes of the age, and in his hand the mariner held a ball, symbolical of a globe, the rotundity of which he seemed anxiously studying. The fixed and intensely-wrought features of the statue announced to the world, that it was the conception of the first thought of the Genoese sailor of the existence of the new world. The painting of Chapman presents to us the same hero removed from the chair of state to the shores of an unknown continent, in the full realization of the dream of the statue; and Columbus might now have delineated, upon the globe with which he had sported, the limits of a world which had escaped the scrutiny and the search of all preceding time. How true is the philosophy of the school-boy's song: "Large streams from little fountains flow; The son of a wool-comber of Genoa became a student of the Mr. Chapman, in his admirable painting, has indeed given us a splendid conception of Columbus, at the most glorious moment of his life. He is landing upon a shore of which he had dreamed as a fairy-land, and all his bold and daring hopes were now fulfilled. He bears in his hands the royal banner of Spain, surmounted with the cross; and as he surveyed the beautiful island before him, and saw its untamed children lost in amazement and wonder at his approach, what must have been the intense thrillings of his bosom! How gloriously was the great ambition of his life now consummated! He had, indeed, conquered the whole world: for the learning of all Europe had foretold his failure; the crowned heads of royalty in the very face of the authority of all this learning and all had condemned him as an impracticable visionary; and still, world is before him. Fortunate-fortunate man! How often this royalty, the daring mariner is triumphant, and a new of ambition-how often had fancy pictured the verdant isle, had the scene now before you gleamed in your bright dreams the straggling and astonished multitude, the ships of thine own adventurous fleet hovering in the back ground, and then glowing and burning on as the fancy will-even thyself standing on the prow of thy boat as thou standest here! his characters: and how well has my friend sustained his The great effort of the painter's mind is the conception of genius in the piece before us! Before Chapman painted this, he studied the life of Columbus; sympathized with the fathermariner in his trials and his sufferings; enjoyed with him the buoyancy of hope, and shared with him the darkness of illpathy with the great hero of his painting that he could have omened despair. It was only in such a state of mental symcaught the noble conception of his character which he has enjoyment of an illusion that he was a sharer with Columbus here given us. It was only by exciting his mind to the full in the glories, as well as the adversities of his life, that he could have awakened upon the canvass that sublime concep tion which springs only from an affiliation of souls. Like the maiden of the Delphic oracle, genius flings out its responses from the agony of an intensely bright and hallowed passion. era of modern ages, and stands out in the history of the world The discovery of the new world by Columbus is the great as an event, in the magnitude of its consequences, inferior to created the mind of man, and to have started him off upon none in the annals of time. It seemed, indeed, to have newly the career of future ages, with a celerity prophetic of a higher destiny. At the distance of more than three hundred years, the student of history turns back his memory, and surveying the host of empires to which the genius of Columbus decreed man in this the crowning hour of his life. Columbus stood an existence, worships the very representation of the god-like upon the prow of his boat, and when it grated upon the sandy revolution, second in its consequences only to the tragedy on shore of the new world, the destiny of man was changed: a Mount Calvary, was achieved; the limits of man's enterprise and dazzling light; the very boundaries of thought and of were enlarged; the human mind was illuminated with a new action were extended; a race of savage barbarians were discovered and extinguished; and generations after generations of Christians sprung into an active and a victorious existence. It was, indeed, the very hour of the world's second redemption: and when Columbus landed upon the soil of San Salvador, he gave an impulse "to the wave of destiny," which, rolling over the unbounded wilds of the new Atlantic world, from Cape Horn to the north pole, is now beating against, and bounding back from, the summits of her eternal mountains, the reverberation of its triumphant course. It was the immortal hour of the centuries of years which rolled around it, and which will beat against and crouch around its base as the memory of Columbus; the poet of nature shall catch an eternally as the waves. The child of science shall worship inspiration from the contemplation of his heroic life; the philosopher shall learn from his example a lesson of patience, of thought, and of wisdom; and all mankind shall regard him as the agent of Heaven in revealing to civilized man the existence of" another and a better world." WESTERN ELOQUENCE." If," said a lawyer pleading for his client whose garden had been sadly disfigured by his enlightened country, that our neighbor's pigs must go without neighbor's pigs-"if law is so far gone out of our free and yokes, then in vain did our fathers bleed at Bunker Hill, and die at Yorktown.” THE EVERGREEN. JULY, 1840. No. 7 THE TOWER OF LONDON." A HISTORICAL ROMANCE. BY W. HARRISON AINSWORTH, Author of 'Crichton,' 'Jack Sheppard,' and 'Rookwood.' PART IV. BOOK THE SECOND....MARY THE QUEEN. I....Of the arrival of Queen Mary in London; of her entrance into the Tower; and of her reception of the prisoners on the Green. Mary made her public entry into the city of London, on the 3d of August, 1553. The most magnificent preparations were made for her arrival, and as the procession of the usurperfor such Jane was now universally termed to the Tower, had been remarkable for its pomp and splendor, it was determined on the present occasion to surpass it. The Queen's entrance was arranged to take place at Aldgade, and the streets along which she was to pass were covered with fine gravel from thence to the Tower, and railed on either side. Within the rails stood the crafts of the city, in the dresses of their order; and at certain intervals were stationed the officers of the guard and their attendants, arrayed in velvet and silk, and having great staves in their hands to keep off the crowd. Hung with rich arras, tapestry, carpets, and, in some instances, with cloths of tissue gold and velvet, the houses presented a gorgeous appearance. Every window was filled with richly-attired dames, while the roofs, walls, gables, and steeples, were crowded with curious spectators. The tower of the old church of Saint Botolph, the ancient walls of the city, westward as far as Bishopgate, and eastward to the Tower postern, were thronged with beholders. Every available position had its occupant. St. Catherine Coleman's in Fenchurch Street-for it was decided that the royal train was to make a slight detour-Saint Dennis Backchurch; Saint Benet's; All Hallows, Lombard street; in short, every church, as well as every other structure, was covered. If she had not the commanding port of her father, Henry the Eighth, nor the proud beauty of her mother, Catherine of Arragon, she inherited sufficient majesty and grace from them to well fit her for her lofty station. No one has suffered more from misrepresentation than this Queen. Not only have her failings been exaggerated, and illqualities, which she did not possess, attributed to her, but the virtues that undoubtedly belonged to her have been denied her. A portrait, perhaps too flatteringly colored, has been left of her by Michele, but still it is nearer the truth than the darker presentations with which we are more familiar. "As to the more important qualities of her mind, with a few trifling exceptions, (in which, to speak the truth, she is like other women, since besides being hasty and somewhat resentful, she is rather more parsimonious and miserly than is fitting a munificent and liberal sovereign,) she has in other respects no notable imperfection, and in some things she is without equal; for not only is she endowed with a spirit beyond other women who are naturally timid, but is so courageous and resolute that no adversity nor danger ever caused her to betray symptoms of pusillanimity. On the contrary, she has ever preserved a greatness of mind and dignity that is admirable, knowing as well what is due to the rank she holds as the wisest of her councillors, so that in her conduct and proceedings during the whole of her life, it cannot be denied she has always proved herself to be the offspring of a truly royal stock. Of her humility, piety, and observance of religious duties, it is unnecessary to speak, since they are well-known, and have been proved by sufferings little short of martyrdom; so that we may truly say of her with the Cardinal, that amidst the darkness and obscurity which overshadowed this kingdom, she remained like a faint flame strongly agitated by winds which strove to extinguish it, but always kept alive by her innocence and true faith, in order that she might one day shine to the world, as she now does." Other equally strong testimonies to her piety and virtue might be adduced. By Camden she is termed a "lady never sufficiently to be praised for her sanctity, charity, and liberality." And by Bishop Godwin-" a woman truly pious, benign, and of most chaste manners, and to be lauded, if you do not regard her failure in religion." It was this "failure in religion" which has darkened her in the eyes of her Protestant posterity. With so many good qualities it is to be lamented that they were overshadowed by bigotry. If Mary did not possess the profound learning of Lady Jane Grey, she possessed more than ordinary mental acquirements. A perfect mistress of Latin, French, Spanish and Italian, she conversed in the latter language with fluency.She had extraordinary powers of eloquence when roused by any great emot on, and having a clear logical understanding, was well fitted for argument. Her courage was undaunted; and she possessed much of the firmness of character-obsti The Queen, who had passed the previous night at Bow, set forth at noon, and in less than an hour afterwards, loud acclamations, and still louder discharges of ordnance, announced her approach. The day was as magnificent as the spectacle the sky was deep and cloudless, and the sun shone upon countless hosts of bright and happy faces. At the bars with out Aldgate, on the Whitechapel road, Queen Mary was met by Princess Elizabeth, accompanied by a large cavalcade of knights and dames. An affectionate greeting passed between the royal sisters, who had not met since the death of Ed-nacy it might perhaps be termed of her father. In the graceward, and the usurpation of Jane, by which both their claims to the throne had been set aside. But it was noted by those who closely observed them, that Mary's manner grew more grave as Elizabeth rode by her side. The Queen was mounted upon a beautiful milk-white palfrey, caparisoned in crimson velvet, fringed with golden thread. She was habited in a robe of violet-colored velvet, furred with powdered ermine, and wore upon her head a caul of cloth of tinsel set with pearls, and above this a massive circlet of gold covered with gems of inestimable value. Though a contrary opinion is generally entertained, Mary was not without some pretension to beauty. Her figure was short and slight, but well-proportioned; her complexion rosy and delicate; and her eyes bright and piercing, though, perhaps, too stern in their expression. Her mouth was small, with thin compressed lips, which gave an austere and morose character to an otherwise pleasing face. Continued from page 332. ful accomplishment of the dance, she excelled, and was passionately fond of music, playing with skill on three instruments, the virginals, the regals, and the lute. She was fond of equestrian exercise, and would often indulge in the chace. She revived all the old sports and games which had been banished as savouring of mummery by the votaries of the reformed faith.— One of her sins in their eyes was a fondness for rich apparel. In the previous reign feinale attire was remarkable for its simplicity. She introduced costly stuffs, sumptuous dresses, and French fashions. In personal attractions the Princess Elizabeth far surpassed her sister. She was then in the bloom of youth, and though she could scarcely be termed positively beautiful, she had a very striking appearance, being tall, portly, with bright blue eyes, and exquisitely formed hands, which she took great pains to display. As soon as Elizabeth had taken her place behind the Queen, the procession set forward. The first part of the cavalcade a consisted of gentlemen clad in doublets of blue velvet, with The train proceeded along Fenchurch street, where was sleeves of orange and red, mounted on chargers trapped with marvellous cunning' pageant, representing the fountain of Heclose housings of blue sarsenet powdered with white crosses. licon, made by the merchants of the Stillyard; the fountain After them rode esquires and knights, according to their de-ran abundantly-racked Rhenish wine till night. At the cor. gree, two and two, well mounted, and richly apparelled in ner of Gracechurch street there was another pageant, raised cloth of gold, silver, or embroidered velvet, "fresh and goodlie to a great height, on the summit of which were four pictures; to behold." Then came the trumpeters, with silken pennons above these stood an angel robed in green, with a trumpet to fluttering from their clarions, who did their devoir gallantly. its mouth, which was sounded at the Queen's approach, to Then a litter covered with cloth of gold, drawn by richly-ca- the 'great marvelling of many ignorant persons.' Here she parisoned horses, and filled by sumptuously-apparelled dames. was harangued by the Recorder; after which the Chamberlain Then an immense retinue of nobles, knights, and gentlemen, presented her with a purse of cloth of gold, containing a thouwith their attendants, all dressed in velvets, satins, taffeties, sand marks. The purse she graciously received, but the and damask of all colors, and of every device of fashion- money she distributed among the assemblage. At the corner there being no lack of cloths of tissue, gold, silver, embroid- of Gracechurch street another stage was erected. It was ery, or goldsmith's work. Then came forty high-born dam- filled with the loveliest damsels that could be found, with sels mounted on steeds, trapped with red velvet, arrayed in their hair loosened and floating over their shoulders, and cargowns and kirtles of the same material. Then followed two rying large branches of white wax. This was by far the other litters covered with red satin. Then came the Queen's prettiest spectacle she had witnessed, and elicited Mary's body guard of archers, clothed in scarlet, bound with black particular approbation. Her attention, however, was immevelvet, bearing on their doublets a rose woven in gold, under diately afterward attracted to the adjoining stage, which was which was an imperial crown. Then came the judges; then filled with Romish priests in rich copes, with crosses and centhe doctors; then the bishops; then the council; and, lastly, sers of silver, which they waved as the Queen approached, the knights of the Bath in their robes. while an aged prelate advanced to pronounce a solemn beneBefore the Queen rode six lords, bare-headed, four of whom diction upon her. Mary immediately dismounted, and recarried golden maces. Foremost amongst these rode the ceived it on her knees. This action was witnessed with some Earls of Pembroke and Arundel, bearing the arms and crown. dislike by the multitude, and but few shouts were raised as They were clothed in robes of tissue, embroidered with roses she again mounted her palfrey. But it was soon forgotten, of fine gold, and each was girt with a baldrich of massive and the same cheers that had hitherto attended her accomgold. Their steeds were trapped in burnt silver, drawn over panied her to the Tower. Traversing Eastcheap, which prewith cords of green silk and gold, the edges of their apparel sented fresh crowds and offered fresh pageants to her view, being fretted with gold and damask. The Queen's attire has she entered Tower street, where she was welcomed by larger been already described. She was attended by six lacqueys throngs than before, and with greater enthusiasm than ever. habited in vests of gold, and by a female attendant in a gro- In this way she reached Tower Hill, where a magnificent tesque attire, whom she retained as her jester, and who was spectacle burst upon her. known amoag her household by the designation of Jane the Fool. The Princess Elizabeth followed. After whom came a numerous guard of archers and arquebussiers. The retinue was closed by the train of the ambassadors, Noailles and Renard. A loud discharge of ordnance announced the Queen's arrival at Aldgate. This was immediately answered by the Tower guns, and a tremendous and deafening shout rent the air. Mary appeared greatly affected by this exhibition of joy, and as she passed under the ancient gate which brought her into the city, and beheld the multitude assembled to receive her, and heard their shouts of welcome,, she was for a moment overcome by her fears. But she speedily recovered herself, and acknowledged the stunning cries with a graceful inclination of her person. The vast area of Tower Hill was filled with spectators. The crowds who had witnessed her entrance into the city had now flocked thither, and every avenue had poured in its thousands, till there was not a square inch of ground unoccupied. Many were pushed into the moat, and it required the utmost exertion of the guards, who were drawn out in lines of two deep, to keep the road, which had been railed and barred from the end of Tower street to the gates of the fortress clear for the Queen. As Mary's eye ranged over this sea of headsas she listened to their stunning vociferations, and to the loud roar of the cannon which broke from every battlement in the Tower, her heart swelled with exultation. It was an animating spectacle. The day, it has been said, was bright and beautiful. The sun poured down its rays upon the ancient Upon a stage on the left, immediately within the gate, stood fortress, which had so lately opened its gates to a usurper, but a large assemblage of children, attired like wealthy merchants, which now like a heartless rake had cast off one mistress to take one of whom-who represented the famous Whittington-another. The whole line of ramparts on the west was filled pronounced an oration to the Queen, to which she vouchsafed a gracious reply. Before this stage was drawn up a little phalanx, called 'The Nine Children of Honor.' These youths were clothed in velvet, powdered with flowers-de-luce, and were mounted on great coursers, each of which had embroidered on its housing a scutcheon of the Queen's title-as of England, France, Gascony, Guienne, Normandy, Anjou, Cornwall, Wales, and Ireland. As soon as the oration was ended, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, Sheriffs, and their officers and attendants, rode forth to welcome the Queen to the city. The Lord Mayor was clothed in a gown of crimson velvet, decorated with the collar of SS., and carried the mace. He took his place before the Earl of Arundel, and after some little delay the cavalcade was again set in motion. First marched the different civic crafts, with bands of minstrelsy and banners; then the children who had descended from the stage; then the nine youths of honor; then the city guard; and then the Queen's cavalcade, as before described. Mary was every where received with the loudest demonstrations of joy. Prayers, wishes, welcomings and vociferations attended her progress. Nothing was heard but "God save your highness!-God send you a long and happy reign!" To these cries, whenever she could make herself heard, the Queen rejoined, "God save you, all my people! I thank you with all my heart!" Gorgeous pageants were prepared at every corner. The conduits ran wine. The crosses and standards in the city were newly painted and burnished. The bells pealed and loud-voiced cannon roared. Triumphal arches, covered with flowers, and adorned with banners, targets, and rich stuffs, crossed the streets. Largesse was showered among the crowd with a liberal hand, and it was evident that Mary's advent was hailed on all hands as the harbinger of prosperity. with armed men. On the summit of the White Tower floated her standard, while bombard and culverin kept up a continual roar from every lesser tower. After gazing for a few moments in the direction of the lofty citadel, now enveloped in the clouds of smoke issuing from the ordnance, and, excepting its four tall turrets and its standard, entirely hidden from view, her eyes followed the immense cavalcade, which like a swollen current was pouring its glittering tide beneath the arch of the Bulwark Gate; and as troop after troop disappeared, and she gradually approached the fortress, she thought she had never beheld a sight so grand and inspiriting. Flourishes of trumpets, almost lost in the stunning acclamations of the multitude and the thunder of artillery, greeted her arrival at the Tower. Her entrance was conducted with much ceremony. Proceeding through closely serried ranks of archers and arquebussiers, she passed beneath the Middle Gate and across the bridge. At the By-ward Tower she was received by Lord Clinton and a train of nobles. On either side of the gate stood Gog and Magog. Both giants made a profound obeisance as she passed. A few steps further her course was checked by Og and Xit. Prostrating himself before her, the elder giant assisted his diminutive companion to clamber upon his back, and as soon as he had gained this position, the dwarf knelt down and offered the keys of the fortress to the Queen. Mary was much diverted at the incident, nor was she less surprised at the vast size of Og and his brethren than at the resemblance they presented to her royal father. Guessing what was passing through her mind, and regardless of consequences as of decorum, Xit_remarked: “Your majesty, I perceive, is struck with the likeness of my worthy friend Og to your late sire King Henry VIII., of high and renowned memory. You will not, therefore, be surprised, when I inform you that he is his-" Before another word could be uttered, Og, who had been greatly alarmed at the preamble, arose with such suddenness, that Xit was precipitated to the ground. "Pardon me, your majesty," cried the giant, in great confusion, "it is true what the accursed imp says. I have the honor to be indirectly related to your highness. God's death, sirrah, I have half a mind to set my foot upon thee and crush thee. Thou art ever in mischief." The look and gesture, which accompanied this information, were so indescribably like their royal parent, that neither the Queen nor the Princess Elizabeth could forbear laughing. As to Xit, the occurrence gained him a new friend in the person of Jane the Fool, who ran up as he was limping off with a crest fallen look, and begged her majesty's permission to take charge of him. This was granted, and the dwarf proceeded with the royal cortege. On learning the name of his protectress, Xit observed "You are wrongfully designated, sweetheart. Jane the Queen was Jane the Fool-you are Jane the Wise." While this was passing, Mary had given some instructions in an under tone to Lord Clinton, and he immediately de parted to fulfil them. The cavalcade next passed beneath the arch of the Bloody Tower, and the whole retinue drew up on the Green. A wide circle was formed round the queen, amid which, at intervals, might be seen the towering figures of the giants, and next to the elder of them, Xit, who having been obliged to quit his new friend had returned to Og and was standing on his tip-toes to obtain a peep at what was passing. No sooner had Mary taken up her position, than Lord Clinton re-appeared, and brought with him several illustrious persons who having suffered imprisonment in the fortress, for their zeal for the religion of Rome, were now liberated by her command. As the first of the group, a venerable nobleman, approached her and bent the knee before her, Mary's eyes filled with tears, and she exclaimed, in a voice of much emotion "Arise, my Lord Duke of Norfolk. The attainder pronounced against you in my father's reign is reversed. Your rank, your dignities, honors, and estates shall be restored to As the Duke retired, Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, ad you." vanced. "Your Grace shall not only have your bishoprick again," said Mary, "but you shall have another high and important office. I here appoint you Lord Chancellor of the realm." "Your highness overwhelms me with kindness," replied Gardiner, pressing her hand to his lips. "You have no more than your desert, my lord," replied There are Mary. "But I pray you stand aside a moment. other claimants of our attention." Gardiner withdrew, and another deprived bishop took his place. It was Bonner. 66 you are My lord," said Mary, as he bowed before her, " restored to the see of London, and the prelate who now so unworthily fills that high post, Bishop Ridley, shall make room for you. My lord," she added to Lord Clinton, "make out a warrant, and let him be committed to the Tower." "I told you how it would be," observed Renard to Lord Pembroke. "Ridley's last discourse has cost him his liberty. Cranmer will speedily follow." Other prisoners, among whom was Tunstall, Bishop of Durham, and the Duchess of Somerset, now advanced, and were warmly welcomed by the Queen. The last person who approached her was a remarkably handsome young man, with fine features and a noble figure. This was Edward Courtenay, son of the Marquess of Exeter, who was beheaded in 1538. Since that time Courtenay had been a close prisoner in the Tower. He was of the blood-royal, being grandson of Catherine, youngest daughter of Edward the Fourth, and his father had been declared heir to the throne. "You are right welcome, my consin," said Mary, extending her hand graciously to him, which he pressed to his lips. "Your attainder shall be set aside, and though we cannot restore your father to life, we can repair the fortunes of his son, and restore him to his former honors. Henceforth, you are Earl of Devonshire. Your patent shall be presently made out, and such of your sire's possessions as are in our hands restored." Courtenay warmly thanked her for her bounty, and the Queen smiled upon him in such gracious sort, that a suspicion 339 crossed more than one bosom that she might select him as her consort. "Her majesty smiles upon Courtenay as if she would be. stow her hand upon him in right earnest," observed Pembroke to Renard. "Hum!" replied the ambassador. "This must be nipped in the bud. I have another husband in view for her." "Your master, Philip of Spain, I'll be sworn," said Pembroke—“ a suitable match, if he were not a Catholic." Renard made no answer, but he smiled an affirmative. "I am glad this scheme has reached my ears," observed De Noailles, who overheard the conversation-"it will not suit my master, Henry II., that England should form an alliance with Spain. I am for Courtenay, and will thwart Renard's plot." Having received the whole of the prisoners, Mary gave orders to liberate all those within the Tower who might be confined for their adherence to the Catholic faith. 66 'My first care," she said, "should be to celebrate the obsequies of my brother, Edward VI., whose body, while others have been struggling for the throne, remains uninterred, according to the forms of the Romish church. The service shall take place in Westminster Abbey." "That may not be your highness," said Cranmer, who formed one of the group. "His late majesty was a Protes tant prince." "Beware how you oppose me, my lord," rejoined Mary, sternly. "I have already committed Ridley to prison, and shall not hesitate to commit your Grace." "Your highness will act as it seems best to you," rejoined Cranmer, boldly; "but I shall fulfil my duty, even at the hazard of incurring your displeasure. Your royal brother professed the Protestant faith, which is, as yet-though Heaven ligion of this country, and he must, therefore, be interred aconly knows how long it may continue so-the established recording to the rites of that church. No other ceremonies, but those of the Protestant church, shall be performed within Westminster Abbey, as long as I maintain a shadow of power." "It is well," replied Mary. "We may find means to make ree proclaiming our religious opinions. And it is our soveryour Grace more flexible. To-morrow, we shall publish a deeign pleasure, that the words 'Papist' and 'Heretic' be no longer used as terms of reproach." "I have lived long enough," exclaimed the Duke of Norfolk, falling on his knees-" in living to see the religion of my fathers restored." "The providence which watched over your Grace's life, and saved you from the block, when your fate seemed all but sealed, reserved you for this day," rejoined Mary. "It reserved me to be a faithful and devoted servant of your majesty," replied the Duke. What is your highness's pleasure touching the Duke of Northumberland, Lord Guilford Dudley, and Lady Jane Dudley?" inquired Clinton. "The two former will remain closely confined till their arLady Jane, also, will remain a raignment," replied Mary. prisoner for the present. And now, my lords, to the palace." With this, she turned her palfrey's head, and passing under the Bloody Tower, proceeded to the principal entrance of the ancient structure, where she dismounted, and accompanied by a throng of nobles, dames, and attendants, entered the apartments so lately occupied by the unfortunate Jane. II.-How Jane was imprisoned in the Brick Tower. The first shock over, Jane bore her reverse of fortune with the utmost patience and resignation, uttering no complaints, but making, in the language of Fuller, "misery itself amiable by her pious behaviour." She then reaped the full benefit of the religious education she had received, and her time was wholly passed in meditation, prayer, or profound study. Her demeanor was gentle and calm-graver and more thoughtful than it had been, but by no means cast down. If she had not regained her cheerfulness, she had fully recovered her composure; and the warder, Partridge, in whose habitation she was confined in the first instance, described her "as looking more like a queen than when she sat upon the throne." In this way some days were spent, when word was brought her by an attendant, that a chamber had been prepared for her in the Brick Tower, and that a guard was without to conduct her to it. She received the intimation with composure, and immediately rose to obey it, requesting only that her books |