federates, rudely seized her hand with his own gauntleted palm, and, with threats of instant death in case of non-compliance, compelled her to set her signature to the deed; she, in a paroxysm of tears, calling on all present to witness that she did so through her fear for her life, and therefore that the act was not valid.

Bothwell, meanwhile, after wandering from place to place, now lurking among his vassals, now seeking refuge with his friends, at length fled, with a single ship, towards Norway. Falling in with a vessel of that country, richly laden, he attacked it, but was himself taken, and carried to Norway, where for ten years he languished in captivity; till, by melancholy and despair deprived of reason, unpitied and unassisted, he ended his wretched life in a dungeon. A declaration addressed to the king of Denmark, in which he gives a succinct account of all the transactions in which he was engaged in Scotland, is yet preserved in the library of the king of Sweden. In it he completely exonerates Mary from having the slightest concern in the murder of Darnley; and again, before his death, when confessing his own share in it, he solemnly acquits her of all pre-knowledge of the crime.

Mary now, in her distress, found assistance. from an unexpected quarter. Her misfortunes, and gentle resignation under them, excited the pity and sympathy of the little William Douglas, a boy of fifteen, a son of her jailer; and he resolved to undertake her deliver

ance.

The first attempt failed. The queen had succeeded in leaving the castle in the disguise of a laundress, and was already seated in the boat, to cross the lake, when she betrayed herself by raising her hand.

The beauty and extreme whiteness of that hand dis covered her at once, and she was carried back to her chamber in tears and bitterness of heart. The next attempt was more successful, and she reached Hamilton in safety. Many nobles of the highest distinction hastened to offer their support, and, in three days after leaving Lochleven, she was at the head of six thousand men, devoted to her cause.

The other party made haste to assemble their forces. At their head was Murray, a half-brother of the queen a man whom she had loaded with benefits and honors, and to whom she had twice granted life, when condemned for treason. He now acted as regent, in the minority of the infant prince, whom the confederates assumed to be king. The hostile bands met at Langside. From a neighboring hill, Mary viewed a conflict on which her fate depended. She beheld with what anguish of heart may be imagined—the fortune of the day turn against her; she saw her faithful friends cut to pieces, taken prisoners, or flying before the victorious Murray. When all was lost, her general, Lord Herries, came up to her, seized her bridle, and turned her horse's head from the dismal scene. With a few adherents she fled southwards; nor did she repose till she reached Dundrennan, sixty miles from the field of battle. There Mary, trusting in Elizabeth's recent professions of friendship, took the fatal resolution of throwing herself upon the compassion and protection of the English queen. As she approached the boundary, her resolution faltered; the coming evils seemed to cast their shadows before; but those which awaited her, if she remained, were certain,

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and she crossed the small stream which formed the parting line.

Mary was at this time in her twenty-sixth year; in the very prime of existence, in the full bloom of beauty and health, when a dark pall was spread over her life. Thenceforward her history presents one painful picture of monotonous suffering on the one hand, and of meanness, treachery, and cruelty, on the other. With relentless cruelty, her rival kept her in perpetual bonds; the only changes were from prison to prison, and from one harsh keeper to another; from the gleam of delusive hope to the blackness of succeeding disappointment.

As soon as she entered England, Mary addressed a letter to Elizabeth, in which she painted in glowing colors the wrongs she had endured, and implored the sympathy and assistance of her "good sister." A generous and magnanimous sovereign would not have hesitated as to the answer to be made to such an appeal. But Elizabeth deliberated; she consulted her counsel; the object of long years of hatred was in her power; one whose very existence was an outrage upon her personal vanity; her malicious feelings of envy and jealousy got the mastery, and Mary's detention as a prisoner was resolved on. Still, however, a show of decency was to be preserved. Noblemen of suitable rank were sent to receive her, carrying with them letters from their sovereign filled with prostituted expressions of condolence and sympathy. At the same time, orders were given that Mary should not be allowed to leave the kingdom. To Mary's demand of a formal interview, Elizabeth replied, that the honor

must, with whatever reluctance, be denied to her, lest the imputation under which she labored of being acces sory to the murder of Darnley should bring a stain upon her own reputation; but that, whenever she should clear herself of this, she should receive assistance commensurate with her distress, and a reception suitable to her dignity. By this pretence was Mary entangled in a treacherous snare. Confiding in her professions of friendship, she agreed to submit her cause to Elizabeth, and to produce to her such proofs as would convince her of her innocence, and of the malice and falsehood of her enemies. Elizabeth had now accomplished her end: she became the umpire between Mary and her rebellious subjects, and had it wholly in her power to protract and to involve the proceedings in endless mazes; having, at the same time, a pretext for keeping Mary at a distance from her court, and for withholding from her all assistance.

To save appearances, a conference was appointed to be held at York, at which, in presence of her represcntatives, the several parties should make known their causes of complaint. Murray appeared in person, and accused Mary of participating in the murder of her husband, and of other monstrous crimes; of all which were offered as testimony certain letters purporting to have been written by her to Bothwell. By her command, her commissioners repelled the accusation with horror, and pronounced the letters to be base forgeries, and, at the same time, accused Murray and his confederates of treason and scandal against their sovereign. As was predetermined, the conference ended without coming to any decision; and, as Murray was permitted

to return to Scotland, Mary required that she should be set at liberty. In answer, it was intimated that if she would confirm the forced abdication, and would renounce her throne and country, she should be permitted to reside in quiet and privacy in England. "The eyes of Europe,” replied Mary," are upon me; and, were I thus tamely to yield to my adversaries, I should be pronouncing my own condemnation. A thousand times rather would I submit to death than inflict this stain upon my honor. The last words I speak shall be those of the queen of Scotland." Refusing her liberty upon these disgraceful terms, she remained a captive.

Great fears were entertained of the power of Mary's charms over those who were suffered to approach her. "If I might give advice," writes one of Elizabeth's statesmen, when on a visit to her, "there should very few subjects of this land have access to a conference with this lady; for, besides that she is a goodly personage, -and yet, in truth, not comparable to our sovereign, - she hath withal an alluring grace, a pretty Scotch speech, and a searching wit, clouded with mildness." The advice contained in this letter was too acceptable not to be followed, and every succeeding year found Mary reduced in society, in comforts, and health. The latter, which had heretofore caused her no anxiety, gradually gave way before want of exercise and the dampness of the prisons in which she was confined; and she came to suffer from constant pain in her side, rheumatism, and weakness of limbs a state of suffering and disease which was aggravated by the penuriousness of Elizabeth, which