poynte oure enymys off theyre intendyd purpose. Wrytten with the hand of your lovying master.

HENRY Ř. To My Lorde Cardinall.? Letter XCIV. is a joint epistle of Henry and Catherine to Wolsey, in which the Queen expresses her anxiety for the arrival of Campegius, and anticipates the establishment of her cause ; and the King, whatever may have been his sincerity, or his conscientious scruples, evinces a high respect for Catherine. Besides his literary talents and skill in music, Henry prided himself not less upon his knowledge of medicine. Many of his recipes are detailed at page 287, they are for the most part very simple, so that any reader, whose case they may suit, may avail himself of these royal prescriptions without danger, which, in this age of quackery, may be thought no small recommendation. Letter ÝCVII. contains his Majesty's advice as to the nature and cure of the sweating sickness. Letter CXIV. is a long epistle, dated 1533, from Cranmer to the Ambassador at the Emperor's court, describing the divorce of Queen Catherine, and the Coronation ceremony of Anne Boleyn. This letter throws light on the time of the secret marriage of Henry; a point upon which historians have hitherto differed : it appears that the marriage took place before the divorce had been pronounced by Cranmer. The following passage exonerates the Prelate from having been present at the marriage, and therein contradicts the assertion of Lord Herbert.

But nowe Sir you may nott ymagyne that this Coronacion was before her marriage, for she was married muche about sainte Paules daye last, as the condicion thereof dothe well appere by reason she ys nowe somewhat bygg with chylde. Notwithstanding yt hath byn reported thorowte a greate part of the realme that I married her ; whiche was playnly false, for I myself knewe not thereof a fortnyght after it was donne. And many other thyngs be also reported of me, whiche be mere lyes and tales.'

The letters describing the arrest and behaviour of the unfortunate Anne Boleyn are curious. Upon the scaffold, she prayed heartily for the King; and he, in return, upon the day of execution, put on white as mourning for her:-the next day he married' Jane Seymour!! Some very curious particulars bccur in Letters CXXX. and CXXXI. relative to the superstitions of those times. In 1538, one Friar Forest was burned in Smithfeld for denying the King's supremacy, which neither the hope of pardon nor the exhortation of Bishop Latimer, who preached over him at the stake, could induce him to acknowledge. In the same fire was consumed a wooden image

brought from Wales, called Darvell Gathern, which was believed to have power to fetch its worshippers oute of Hell when they be dampned.' Many hundreds of persons had gone on pilgrimage to this idol, and vast was the treasure offered at its shrine. Hall states, that the Welshmen had a prophecy that this image should set a whole forest on fire, and they did not fail to dilate on this prediction, when they found it instrumental in consuming the poor friar of that name.

Many curious letters follow, which relate to the marriage of Henry with his succeeding wives, and their several fates: but the limits of this article will not permit their insertion. There are several from the young King Edward; but the letters relating to the religious struggle carried on in this and the succeeding reigns, the Editor has purposely omitted, because the most important of them have already been given by Strype and other writers.

Letter CLXI. is from the pen of the Princess Elizabeth. There are several written after she became Queen, which develop secret traits in her character, and illustrate the public events. About this time an obvious change in the epistolary style took place. Mr. Ellis attributes it to the taste which had been diffused by the cultivation of the Greek and Latin languages. People of education wrote with a propriety of style approaching to the best of that, if not of the present day.'

• The Princess Elizabeth to King Edward VI. with a present
of her portrait.

Like as the riche man that dayly gathereth riches to riches, and to one bag of mony layeth a greate sort til it come to infinit, so me. thinkes your maiestie not beinge suffised withe many benefits and gentilness shewed to me afore this time, dothe now increase them in asking and desiring wher you may bid and commaunde, requiring a thinge not worthy the desiringe for itselfe, but made worthy for your Higthnes request. My pictur I mene, in wiche if the inward good mynde towarde your grace migth as well be declared as the outwarde face and countenance shal be seen, I wold not have taried the commandement but prevented it, nor have bene the last to graunt but the first to offer it. For the face I graunt, I might wel blushe to offer, but the mynde I shal neuer be ashamed to present. For thogth from the grace of the pictur the coulers may fade by time, may giue by wether, may be spotted by chance, yet the other nor time with her swift winges shall overtake, nor the mistie cloudes with ther loweringes may darken, nor chance with her slipery fote may overthrow. Of this althogth yet the profe colde not be greate because the occasions hathe bene but smal, notwithstandinge as a dog hathe a daye, so may I perchaunce have time to declare it in dides where now I do write them but in wordes. And further

I shal most humbly beseche your Maiestie that when you shal loke on my pictur, you wil witsafe to thinke that as you haue but the outwarde shadow of the body afore you, so my inwarde minde wischeth that the body it selfe wer oftner in your presence; howbeit because bothe my so beinge I thinke coulde do your Maiestie litel pleasur, thogth my selfe great good; and againe because I se as yet not the time agreeing thereunto, I shal lerne to follow this sainge of Orace, 6. Feras non culpis quod vitari non potest.” And thus I wil (trobling your Maiestie I fere) ende with my most humble thankes. Besechinge God long to preserve you to his honour, to your comfort, to the realmes profil, and to my joy: from Hatfielde this 15th day of May. Your Maiesty's most humble Sister,

ELIZABETH. The fall of Protector Somerset is developed in a series of letters. Then follows one from Mary, as creditable to her talent in argument, as to her firmness in adhering to her religious faith. The young Monarch, her brother, had written to her, prohibiting the use of the Mass in her household. Against this interdict she remonstrates boldly, offering to give up her life rather than her conscience. She treats the letter as the production of the council, (dh good Mr. Cecil took ' much pains here,') and not of the King, whose tender years, she argues, preclude his being a judge of matters of religion. A commission was afterwards sent to her, but she treated the commissioners with the same firmness. Rather than admit any other service than that used at the death of the late King her father, she would, she says, lay her head on a block and suffer death. ' Non of your new service,' she adds, • shall be

used in my house, and if any be said in it, I will not tarry • in the house.'

The masculine boldness of Elizabeth's character very soon develops itself. As early,

As early as 1559, when the Parliament exhorted her to marry, with a view to the security of the sucçession, she shewed she could but ill brook advice or control, replying, that she should be fully satisfied, if upon her marble tomb it were engraven, "Here" lieth Elizabeth who reigned a

Virgin and died a Virgin.' And upon the repetion of that advice, which was annexed to an address on granting a subsidy, she writes in anger:

I knowe no reason whi any my private answers to the Realme shuld serve for prologe to a subsidy vote; neither yet do I understand why such audacitie shuld be used to make withoute my licence an acte of my words; or my wordes like lawier's bokes which nowe a dayes go to the wiar drawers to make subtall doings more plain? Is ther no hold of my speche without an Acte compel me to confirme? Shall my princely consent be turned to strengthen my wordes that be not of themselves substantives? Say no more at

this time, but if thes fellowes wer wel answered and payed with lawful coyne ther wold be fewer counterfaits amonge them.

The murders of David Rizzio and Darnley, and the other calamities which crowded upon the ill-fated Mary, Queen of Scots, together with an account of her trial and execution, occupy the next portion of these interesting volumes. The supplicatory letters which Mary addressed to Elizabeth, are so full of pathos, that hard indeed must have been that heart which such appeals failed to soften. We can scarcely trust ourselves to begin transcribing from documents, all of which are so fraught with interest. There is a letter from Elizabeth to James, which, could its statements be implicitly believed, would go far to shew that the Queen did not really mean to sacrifice her cousin, but was betrayed into the execution by her ministers. This apology must, however, be received with caution, for the crafty policy of the Queen might purposely leave the consummation of an act which she secretly wished, open to the power of her ministers, and, when effected, charge those ministers with premature haste. By many persons it will hardly be allowed, that any ministers of such a Queen, would have dared to effectuate such a measure, without the fullest assurance that it was in all respects consonant with the intentions of their mistress: The letter is as follows :

• My deare Brother, I would you knewe (though not felt) the extreme dolor that overwhelms my mind, for that miserable accident which (far contrary to my meaninge,) hath befalen. I have now sent this man of mine ere now yt hath pleased you to favor, to instruct you trewly of that which ys to yirksom for my penne to tell you. I beseche you that as God and many more knowe, how innocent I am in this case ; 80 you will believe me, that yf I had bid i.e. directed) ought I owld have bid by yt (i.e. would abide by it). I am not so bace minded that feare of any livinge creature or prince should make me afrayde to do that were just, or don to deny the same. I am not of so bace a linage, nor cary so vile a minde. But, as not to disguise, fits not a kinge, so will I never dissemble my actions, but cawse them shewe even as I ment them. Thus assuringe yourself of me, that as I knowe this was deserved, yet yf I had ment yt, I would never laye it on others shoulders ; no more will I not damnifie my selfe, that thought yt not.

• The circumstance yt may please you to have of this bearer. And for your part, thinke you have not in the world a more loving kinswoman, nor a more deare frend than myself, nor any that will watch more carefully to preserve you and your estate. And who shall otherwise persuade you, judge them more partiall to others than you. And thus in hast I leave to troble you, besechinge God to send you a longe reign. The 14th Feb. 1586. Your most assured lovinge sister and cosin

ELIZAB, R.

The gout was not, perhaps, in those days so common a diss ease as at present; but Lord Burleigh appears to have been, in the modern phrase, a martyr to it; and accordingly, we find that recipes poured in upon him from all countries and from all descriptions of persons. As his present Majesty is unfortunately so constantly afflicted with this disease, and our prime minister, Lord Liverpool, and eke his coadjutor, Mr. Canning, are both, we believe, at this very time at Bath, suffering under severe paroxysms, it might be recommended to these exalted sufferers to examine carefully the old treatment, which Letters CCXXXI. and II. unfold. Here are powders, plaisters, tinctures of gold, ‘oyle of stags blud, &c. &c., some of which

, might perchance succeed, where Wilson's new specific has failed.

The account of Elizabeth's reception of the Polish ambassador in letter CCXXXIV., is both curious and characteristic; as is the letter which follows, relative to providing an English wife for the Emperor of the Muscovites, from which the mutual anxiety of both nations to cement, at that early period, the closest friendship, is strikingly evident.

The reign of James, from the scribbling propensities of the monarch, designated by his fatterers the English Solomon, is fertile of correspondence. His entrance into England and the early acts of his reign, are minutely described. The monarch's familiar correspondence with his son Charles and with Buckingham, betray a gross want of taste, to use the mildest term that can be applied. A highly dramatic yet faithful representation of this correspondence, will be found in Sir Walter Scott's novel, the Fortunes of Nigel. His Letters to his son Henry are of a better character. We shall insert a specimen.

King James the First, upon his leaving Scotland, to take possession of the Crown of England, to his son, Prince Henry.

• My Sonne, that I see you not before my pairting impute it to this great occasion quhairin tyme is sa preciouse; but that shall by Goddis grace shortlie be recompenced by youre cumming to me shortlie, and continuall residence with me ever after. Lett not this newis make you proude, or insolent, for a King's sonne and heire was ye before, and na maire ar ye yete. The augmentation that is heir. by lyke to fall unto you, is but in caires and heavie burthens. Be thairfor merrie, but not insolent ; keepe a greatnes, but sine fastu ; be relolute but not willfull; keepe your kyndnes but in honorable sorte : choose nane to be youre play fellowis but thame that are well borne; and above all things give never goode countenance 'to any but according as ye shall be informed that they are in æstimation with me. Looke upon all Englishe men that shall cum to visite you as upon youre loving subjectis, not with that ceremonie as towardis