very quiet while they bandaged her eyes.
Being blinded, and unable to see the block on
which she was to lay her young head, she was
seen to feel about for it with her hands, and
was heard to say, confused, "O what shall I
do! Where is it?" Then they guided her to
the right place, and the executioner struck
off her head. You know too well, now, what
dreadful deeds the executioner did in
England, through many, many years, and how
his axe descended on the hateful block
through the necks of some of the bravest,
wisest, and best in the land. But it never
struck so cruel and so vile a blow as this.

The father of Lady Jane soon followed,
but was little pitied. Queen Mary's next
object was to lay hold of Elizabeth, and this
was pursued with great eagerness. Five
hundred men were sent to her retired house
at Ashridge, by Berkhampstead, with orders
to bring her up, alive or dead. They got
there at ten at night, when she was sick in
bed. But, their leaders followed her lady into
her bedchamber, whence she was brought
out betimes next morning, and put into a
litter to be conveyed to London. She was so
weak and ill, that she was five days on the
road; still, she was so resolved to be seen by
the people that she had the curtains of the
litter opened, and so, very pale and sickly,
passed through the streets. She wrote to
her sister, saying she was innocent of any
crime, and asking why she was made a
prisoner; but she got no answer and was ordered
to the Tower. They took her in by the
Traitor's Gate, to which she objected, but in
vain. One of the lords who conveyed her
offered to cover her with his cloak, as it was
raining, but she put it away from her, proudly
and scornfully, and passed into the Tower,
and sat down in a court-yard on a stone.
They besought her to come in out of the
wet, but she answered that it was better
sitting there, than in a worse place,
At length she went to her apartment,
where she was kept a prisoner, though
not so close a prisoner as at Woodstock,
whither she was afterwards removed, and
where she is said to have one day envied a
milkmaid whom she heard singing in the
sunshine as she went through the green
fields. Gardiner, than whom there were not
many worse men among the fierce and sullen
priests, cared little to keep secret his stern
desire for her death: being used to say that
it was of little service to shake off the leaves,
and lop the branches of the tree of heresy,
if its root, the hope of heretics, were left.
He failed, however, in his benevolent design.
Elizabeth was, at length, released, and
Hatfield House was assigned to her as a residence,
under the care of one SIR THOMAS POPE.

It would seem that Philip, the Prince of
Spain, was a main cause of this change in
Elizabeth's fortunes. He was not an amiable
man, being, on the contrary, proud,
overbearing and gloomy, but he and the Spanish
lords who came over with him, assuredly
did discountenance the idea of doing any
violence to the Princess. It may have been
prudent, but we will hope it was manly and
honorable. The Queen had been expecting
her husband with great impatience, and at
length he came, to her great joy, though he
never cared much for her. They were married
by Gardiner, at Winchester, and there was
more holiday-making among the people;
but they had their old distrust of this Spanish
marriage, in which even the Parliament
shared. Though they were far from honest,
and were strongly suspected to have been
bought with Spanish money, they would pass
no bill to enable the Queen to set aside the
Princess Elizabeth and appoint her own
successor.

Although Gardiner failed in this object, as
well as in the darker one of bringing the
Princess to the scaffold, he went on, at a great
pace, in the revival of the unreformed religion.
A new Parliament was packed, in which there
were no Protestants. Preparations were
made to receive Cardinal Pole in England as
the Pope's messenger, bringing his holy
declaration that all the nobility who had
acquired Church property, should keep it—
which was done to enlist their selfish interest
on the Pope's side. Then a great scene
was enacted, which was the triumph of the
Queen's plans. Cardinal Pole arrived with
great splendour and dignity, and was received
with great pomp. The Parliament joined
in a petition expressive of their sorrow at the
change in the national religion, and praying
him to receive the country again into the
Popish Church. With the Queen sitting on
her throne, and the King on one side of her,
and the Cardinal on the other, and the
Parliament present, Gardiner read the petition
aloud. The Cardinal then made a great
speech, and was so obliging as to say that
all was forgotten and forgiven, and that the
kingdom was solemnly made Roman Catholic
again.

Everything was now ready for the lighting
of the terrible bonfires. The Queen having
declared to the Council, in writing, that she
would wish none of her subjects to be burnt
without some of the Council being present,
and that she would particularly wish there to
be good sermons at all burnings, the Council
knew pretty well what was to be done next.
So, after the Cardinal had blessed all the
bishops as a preface to the burnings, the
Chancellor Gardiner opened a High Court at Saint
Mary Overy, on the Southwark side of
London Bridge, for the trial of heretics.
Here, two of the late bishops, HOOPER and
ROGERS, who had been already unjustly and
violently examined before the Council, were
brought to be tried. Hooper was tried first
for being married, though a priest, and for
not believing in the mass. He admitted both
of these accusations, and said that the mass
was a wicked imposition. Then they tried