After trying very hard to get rid of the
necessity of clearing herself, Mary, advised
by LORD HERRIES, her best friend in
England, agreed to answer the charges against
her, if the Scottish noblemen who made
them would attend to maintain them before
such English noblemen as Elizabeth might
appoint for that purpose. Accordingly, such
an assembly, under the name of a Conference,
met, first at York, and afterwards at Hampton
Court. In its presence Lord Lennox, Darnley's
father, openly charged Mary with the murder
of his son; and whatever Mary's friends may
now say or write in her behalf, there is no
doubt that when her brother Murray
produced against her a casket containing certain
guilty letters and verses, which he stated
to have passed between her and Bothwell,
she withdrew from the inquiry.
Consequently, it is to be supposed that she was
then considered guilty by those who had the
best opportunities of judging of the truth,
and that the feeling which afterwards arose
in her behalf was a very generous, but not a
very reasonable one.

However, the DUKE OF NORFOLK, an
honorable but rather weak nobleman, partly
because Mary was captivating, partly because
he was ambitious, and partly because he
was over persuaded by artful plotters against
Elizabeth, conceived a strong idea that he
would like to marry the Queen of Scots—
though he was a little frightened, too, by the
letters in the casket. This idea being
secretly encouraged by some of the noblemen
of Elizabeth's court, and even by the
favorite Earl of Leicester (because it was
objected to by other favorites who were his
rivals), Mary expressed her approval of it,
and the King of France and the King of
Spain are supposed to have done the same.
It was not so quietly planned, though, but
that it came to Elizabeth's ears, who warned
the Duke " to be careful what sort of pillow
he was going to lay his head upon." He
made a humble reply at the time, but turned
sulky soon afterwards, and, being considered
dangerous, was sent to the Tower.

Thus, from the moment of Mary's coming
to England she began to be the centre of
plots and miseries.

A rise of the Catholics in the north
was the next of these, and it was only
checked by many executions and much
bloodshed. It was followed by a great
conspiracy among the Pope and some of the
Catholic sovereigns of Europe to depose
Elizabeth, place Mary on the throne, and
restore the unreformed religion. It is almost
impossible to doubt that Mary knew and
approved of it; and the Pope himself was so
hot in the matter that he issued a bull, in
which he openly called Elizabeth the
"pretended Queen " of England, excommunicated
her, and excommunicated all her subjects
who should continue to obey her. A copy
of this miserable paper got into London, and
was found one morning publicly posted on
the Bishop of London's gate. A great hue
and cry being raised, another copy was found
in the chamber of a student of Lincoln's Inn,
who confessed, being put upon the rack, that
he had received it from one JOHN FELTON, a
rich gentleman who lived across the Thames,
near Southwark. This John Felton, being
put upon the rack too, confessed that
he had posted the placard on the Bishop's
gate. For this offence he was, within four
days, taken to St. Paul's Churchyard, and
there hanged and quartered. As to the
Pope's bull, the people by the Reformation
having thrown off the Pope, did not care
much, you may suppose, for the Pope's
throwing off them. It was a mere dirty
piece of paper, and not half so powerful as a
street ballad.

On the very day when Felton was brought
to his trial, the poor Duke of Norfolk was
released. It would have been well for him if
he had kept away from the Tower evermore.
and from the snares that had taken him
there. But, even while he was in that
dismal place he corresponded with Mary, and
as soon as he was out of it he began to plot
again. Being discovered in correspondence
with the Pope, with a view to a rising in
England which should force Elizabeth to
consent to his marriage with Mary, and to repeal
the laws against the Catholics, he was re-
committed to the Tower and brought to trial.
He was found guilty by the unanimous
verdict of the Lords who tried him, and was
sentenced to the block.

It is very difficult to make out, at this
distance of time, and between opposite
accounts, whether Elizabeth really was a
humane woman, or desired to appear so, or
was fearful of shedding the blood of people
of great name who were popular in the
country. Twice she commanded and counter-
manded the execution of this Duke, and it
did not take place, at last, until five months
after his trial. The scaffold was erected on
Tower Hill, and there he died like a brave
man. He refused to have his eyes bandaged,
saying that he was not at all afraid of
death; and he admitted the justice of his
sentence, and was much regretted by the
people.

Although Mary had shrunk at the most
important time from disproving her guilt, she
was very careful never to do anything that
would admit it. All such proposals as were
made to her by Elizabeth for her release,
required that admission in some form or other,
and therefore came to nothing. Moreover,
both women being artful and treacherous,
and neither ever trusting the other, it was
not likely that they could ever make an agreement.
So, the Parliament, aggravated by what
the Pope had done, made new and strong
laws against the spreading of the Catholic
religion in England, and declared it treason in
any one to say that the Queen and her