the progression of events, and Paganism was a quality too negative to assimilate with, or to counteract the positive and active system of Christian enlightenment. Theodosius by his rescripts consummated the downfall of the idol, whose colossal arms had grasped for so many ages, the fairest portions of the world; if at times an ephemeral asserter of its fallen dignities arose, the zealous and ever-watchful hierarchs of the new faith fulmined in triumphant refutation, and solitary, isolated, and unsympathised with by the general mass, the advocate disappeared, and the cause itself declined into a natural and inevitable oblivion.

But if external persecutions-the inflictions of the sword and the rack, had subsided, an internal enemy was preparing the arrows of its opposition; that enemy was Arianism. After a violent conflict, it was subdued, and its followers banished; but like the blood of the fabulous Hydra, its defeat engendered an opponent as formidable, and Nestorianism reared its head to assail the Intellectualism of the gospel-the principle of civilization. Failing in the power of intelligence, these enemies leagued themselves with the power of force; Nestorionism expanded its designs in Persia, hence the war of the Persians against the Greeks; Arianism traversed the clime of the north, and impregnated the minds of those savage invaders, whose legions, like the successive and accumulating billows of an angry sea, rolled down upon the Roman empire. Italy, Hungary, Illyria, Aquitaine, Spain,. and the coasts of Africa became the possessions of these Arian invaders. The sixth century of Intellectualism was past-the last vial of Arianism and Nestorianism was now poured out, and Mahometanism arose like an exhalation from Arabia; with superhuman rapidity, it swept along the east, and Persia was its prey; along the west, and Syria and Egypt bowed down to its omnipotence. Speeding along the shores of Africa, it penetrated into Spain; passed the rocky boundary of the Pyrenees, and the crescent of the Prophet glittered on the waters of the Loire. Here it recoiled from the valour of the French; it could not pass to join its Arian brethren in Lombardy and Hungary; but re

treating from the victorious Charles Martel over the line of the Pyrenees, it poured its warriors through the countries of the east and south.

This mass of divarication pressed like an incubus on the genius of christian intellectualism; but through every phase of invasion and aggression, it clung with vital energy to the throne of its first vicar. Rome and France were now the depositaries of its destiny; and Charlemagne, after annihilating the Arian kingdom of the Lombards, and defeating the Saracenic bands in Spain, enfranchised the Papal dominions from the pretensions of the Byzantine court, and defending the supremacy of the church, by the fierce supremacy of the sword, he communicated to Europe that external impulse, which influenced it through so many succeeding ages. Here then is the first period of the new intellectual revolution of the gospel; the world was, as it were, subdivided by the influence of three nations, of three languages, the Latin, the Greek, and the Arabian; and the idea of civilization, the germ of intellectualism, developed itself in a trinal form, proportioned to the three degrees of social intelligence which it met with in its progress. With the exertions of external agents, with the rapid encroachments on the temporal power by the spiritual, with the venality of the ruling theocrats, we have no account; for our province is the development of intellectualism, not the record of simony and corruption, the calculation of the progress of the work of moralization, not a vain lament for the feudal-like oppression that began to manifest itself. This first period may be characterized as the epoch of theology, for it was during this time that the most important axioms of faith were established, that the co-relative liturgic conventions were framed, and that man was impressed with the conviction, that it is not in the manifestations of the natural phenomena of a perishable world, but in the revelations of an invisible and eternal ruler, that he must rest his hopes of obtaining a gleam of light, of intelligible truth. (Deus est centrum luminis et intelligibilis veritalis. Christ. Lib.

(To be concluded in our next.)

Lensæus de

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

A ROMANCE OF THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF ENGLAND.

BY THE AUTHOR OF

"The Youth of Shakspeare," "Shakspeare and his Friends," &c.

CHAPTER IV.

Not without wonder, not without delight,
Mine eyes have viewed, in contemplation's depth,
This work of wit, divine and excellent:

What shape, what substance, or what unknown power,
In virgin's habit, crowned with laurel leaves,

And olive branches woven in between,

On sea-girt rocks, like to a goddess shines!
O front! O face! O all celestial sure,
And more than mortal! Arete, behold
Another Cynthia, and another queen,
Whose glory, like a lasting plenilune,
Seems ignorant of what it is to wane.

BEN JONSON.-Cynthia's Revels.

FOR a proper understanding of the character of the subject of these pages, doubtless it is necessary and proper that the courteous reader-perchance he be in any wise ignorant of that matter, which there is some colour of likelihood may be the case-should be made acquainted with divers passages of her earlier life. He will, too, be all the better enabled to judge of the sincerity of certain professions made by her under such circumstances as the writer thereof shall venture to describe, and of the motives which may have induced her to the doing of certain actions of her's out of his poor cunning of pen, to be hereinafter mentioned.

7

Of her education it is needless to say much. It chanced that, at the period of her youth, the bringing up of young women of high station was, in sundry instances, regarded as closely, and as severely withal, as that of the youth of the other sex destined for some learned occupation or another; for the proof whereof,

I need only allude to the daughters of Sir Thomas More, to the beautiful and unfortunate Lady Jane Grey, and to her cruel rival, her late highness Queen Mary, of infamous memory, all of whom possessed acquirements founded on long and deep study in early life, such as many a plodding scholar would have been right glad of. The Lady Elizabeth had, from the first, shown a singular aptitude for such pursuits. Her mind was altogether of a masculine cast, and took in readily whatever a manly intellect could be brought to master. In classical learning she at last became nigh upon as ripe a scholar as either Oxford or Cambridge could well boast of; and in the speaking of modern tongues, and the knowledge of books writ in them, few in her kingdom were so skilled. To these she added such dainty accomplishments as music, dancing, and embroidery, in which she was choicely gifted. In sooth, the resources of her mind were of no common sort, and they might, with judicious husbandry, have been a source of exceeding profit unto her and her subjects during her whole life long; but her faults were as great as her merits, and did oft times so swell and bolster themselves up in her nature, as to put out of sight every thing of wisdom or goodness she was known to enjoy.

In the stirring times in which she lived, and the moving accidents that continually surrounded her, it was her good fortune to meet with guides worthy of so perilous a season-wise rather than good men-who were content to make of her the mainspring of their fortunes. They led her carefully through a path of the extremest difficulty and danger; but though, in this sort, directing her for her especial benefit as it seemed, they, in truth, did so with an ever-watchful eye unto their own peculiar profit and advantage. Nevertheless, she proved that, upon an occasion, she could be as crafty as ere a politician of them all; and, as these, occasions came with a marvellous frequency, she gradually acquired a greater perfection in adapting herself to circumstances; and was at last so politic, that, let her enemies strive as they might-and many sought with a wondrous earnestness for her destruction-she suffered no harm of it.

Her first appearance on the huge stage on which she, in the end, played so conspicuous a part, was in a matter of some delicateness, that placed her in a light more singular than becoming of her station or sex. During the short reign of the youthful Edward, when the intrigues of the Lord Protector Somerset, and his equally ambitious brother and rival, the Lord Admiral, there were rumours among many that the latter would fain get rid of his own wife, who was no less a personage than the Dowager Queen Catherine, widow of his late highness Henry the Eighth, and that he strongly affected, and was intent upon allying himself with the Lady Elizabeth, ultimately our Sovereign lady, but at that time a comely princess, fast rising into the graces of womanhood, and usually resident nigh unto the court of her brother, the King's highness Edward the Sixth. The Queen Dowager died in some suddenness, that did give a handle of suspicion against her husband, the which Somerset, when it suited his occasion, made inquiry into; and at the falling out of these crafty nobles, the whole affair was well sifted of the Lords of the Privy Council. They examined witnesses, who spoke of their knowledge of the Lord Admiral's proceedings, both with regard to his wife and to the Lady Elizabeth. Of these, one was Lady Tyrrwhit, who visited the Queen Dowager in her chamber, two days before her death.

"At my coming to her in the morning," she then stated, "she asked me where I had been so long, and said unto me, she did not fear such things in herself, that she was sure she could not live; whereunto I answered, as I thought, that I saw no likelihood of death in her. She then, having my Lord Admiral by the hand, and divers others standing by, spoke these words, partly, as I took it, idly:- My Lady Tyrrwhit, I am not well handled; for those that be about me careth not for me, but standeth laughing at my grief; and the more good I will to them, the less good they will to me." Whereunto my Lord Admiral answered-Why, sweetheart, I would you no hurt.' And she said to him again, aloud, 'No, my lord: I think so;' and immediately she said to him in his ear, But, my lord, you have given me many shrewd taunts. Those words I