certain means of keeping him in it. The emperor Nero was extolled for the felicity which he was diffusing by his, bounty, while Rome was groaning under the burden of his exactions. That liberality which would make a prince necessitous and a people poor, would, by hurting his fame, weaken his influence; for reputation is power. After all, such a care and improvement of the revenue, as will enable him to spare his subjects, is the truest liberality in a prince. But, to return. The distinguishing qualities of Elizabeth appear to have been economy, prudence, and moderation. Yet in some instances, the former was rigid, not to say unjust.* Nor had her frugality always the purest motive. She was, it is true, very unwilling to trouble parliament for money, for which, indeed, they were extremely unwilling to be troubled; but her desire to keep herself independent of them seems to have been the motive for this forbearance. What she might have gained in supplies, she must have lost in power.

To her moderation, and that middle line of conduct which she observed, much of her success may be ascribed. To her moderation in the contests between papists and puritans, it is chiefly to be attributed, that the Reformation issued in a happier medium in England, than in any other country. To her moderation, in respect to foreign war, from which she was singularly averse, may be ascribed that rapid improvement at home which took place under her reign.

If we were to estimate Elizabeth as a private female, she would doubtless appear entitled to but little veneration. If as an instrument raised up by divine Providence to carry through the most arduous enterprises in the most difficult emergencies, we can hardly rate her too highly. We owe her much as Englishmen. As Protestants, what do we not owe her? If we look at the woman, we shall see much to blame; if at the sovereign, we shall see almost everything to admire. Her great faults, though they derogated from her personal character, seldom deeply affected her administration. In one instance only, her favouritism was prejudicial to the state her appointment of Leicester to the naval command, for which he was utterly unfit. On many occasions, as we have elsewhere observed, her very passions supplied what was wanting in principle. Thus, her violent attachments might have made her indiscriminately lavish, if they had not been counteracted by that parsimoniousness which never forsook her. Accordingly, in the midst of her lamentations for the death of Leicester, we see her grief did not make her forget to seize his goods, and to repay herself for what she had lent him.

Our censures, therefore, must not be lost in our admiration, nor must our gratitude warp our judgment. And it may be useful to inquire how it came to pass that Elizabeth, with so much power, so much prudence, and so much popularity, should at length become completely miserable, and die neglected and forsaken-her sun setting ingloriously after so bright a day of prosperity and honour?

May we not venture to attribute it to the defectiveness, not to say unsoundness, of her moral principles? Though corrupt principles for a certain period may conceal themselves, and even dazzle, by the success of the projects to which, in the view of superficial reasoners, they may have * Particularly her keeping the see Ely vacant nineteen years, in order to retain the revenue.

appeared conducive; they will, in a long course of action, betray their intrinsic weakness. They may not entirely have prevented the public good effects of other useful qualities with which they were associated ; but they do most fatally operate against the personal honour of the individual; and against her reaping that harvest of gratitude and respect, to which she might otherwise have been so justly entitled.

Vanity was, too probably, the spring of some of Elizabeth's most admired actions; but the same vanity also produced that jealousy, which terminated in the death of Mary. It was the same vanity which led her first to court the admiration of Essex, and then to suffer him to fall a victim to her wounded pride. Her temper was uncontrolled. While we pardon her ignorance of the principles of liberty, we should not forget how little she respected the privileges of parliament, claiming a right of imprisoning its very members, without deigning to give any account of her proceedings.

Policy was her favourite science, but in that day a liberal policy was not understood: and Elizabeth was too apt to substitute both simulation and dissimulation for an open and generous conduct. This dissimulation at length lost her the confidence of her subjects, and, while it inspired her with a distrust, it also forfeited the attachment, of her friends. Her insincerity, as was natural, infected those around her. The younger Cecil himself was so far alienated from his royal mistress, and tainted with the prevailing spirit of intrigue, as to be secretly corresponding with her rival James.

That such mortifying occurrences were too likely to arise from the very nature of existing circumstances, where the dying prince was the last of her race, and the nearly vacant throne about to be possessed by a stranger, must assuredly be allowed. But it may still be asserted, that nothing but deficiency of moral character could have so desolated the closing scene of an illustrious princess. Real virtue will, in every rank, draw upon it disinterested regard; and a truly virtuous sovereign will not be shut out from a more than ordinary share in this general blessing. It is honourable to human nature to see the dying William pressing to his bosom the hand of Bentinck; but it will be still more consolatory as well as instructive to compare, with the forsaken death-bed of Elizabeth, the exemplary closing scene of the second Mary, as described by Burnet, an eye-witness of the affecting event which he relates*.

Burnet's account is as follows :-" She received the intimations of approaching death with a firmness that did neither bend nor soften, under that which has made the strongest minds to tremble. Then, when even the most artificial grow sincere, it appeared how established a calm, and how sublime a piety, possessed her. A ready willingness to be dissolved, and an entire resignation to the will of God, did not forsake her one minute: nor had anything been left to be despatched in her last hours. Her mind was in no hurry, but soft as the still voice that seemed to be calling the soul away to the regions above: so that she made her last steps with a stability and seriousness, that, how little ordinary soever they may be, were indeed the natural conclusions of such a life as she had led.

"How severely soever God intended to visit us, she was gently handled; she felt no inward depression, nor sinking of nature. She then declared that she felt in her mind the joys of a good conscience, and the powers of religion giving her support, which even the last agonies could not shake. Her constant softness to all about her never left her. That was indeed natural to her; but by it all saw visibly that nothing could put her mind out of its natural situation and usual methods. A few hours before she breathed her last, when he [the Bishop himself] who ministered to her in the best things, had continued long in attendance

CHAPTER XIV.

Moral advantages to be derived from the study of History, independent of the examples it exhibits. History proves the corruption of human nature.-It demonstrates the superintending power of Providence, illustrated by instances.

THE knowledge of great events and splendid characters, and even of the customs, laws, and manners of different nations; an acquaintance, however accurate, with the state of the arts, sciences, and commerce of those nations, important as is this knowledge, must not however be considered as of primary importance in the study of history. There are still higher uses to which that study may be turned. History furnishes a strong practical illustration of one of the fundamental doctrines of our religion, the corruption of human nature. To this truth it constantly bears witness, by exemplifying it under every shape, and shade, and colour, and gradation: the annals of the world, indeed, from its commencement to the present hour, presenting little else than a strongly interwoven tissue of those corruptions, and their attendant calamities.

History everywhere proves the helplessness and natural inability of man, the insufficiency of all such moral principles as can be derived from nature and experience; the necessity of explicit instruction respecting our true happiness, and of divinely communicated strength in order to its attainment; and, consequently, the inconceivable worth of that life and immortality which are so fully brought to light by the Gospel.

The reader looks to little purpose over the eventful page of history, who does not accustom himself to mark therein the finger of the Almighty, governing kings and kingdoms; prolonging or contracting the duration of empires; tracing out beforehand, in the unimpeachable page of the prophet Daniel, an outline of successive empires, which subsequent about her, she was so free in her thoughts, that, apprehending he might be weary, she commanded him to sit down, and repeated her orders till he obeyed them: a thing too mean in itself to be mentioned, but that it showed the presence of her mind, as well as the sweetness of her temper. Prayer was then her constant exercise, as oft as she was awake; and so sensible was the refreshment that her mind found in it, that she thought it did her more good, and gave even her body more ease, than anything that was done to her. Nature sunk apace she resolved to furnish herself with the great viaticum of Christians, the last provisions for her journey. She received the blessed sacrament with a devotion that inflamed, as well as melted, all those who saw it. After that great act of church communion was over, she delivered herself up so entirely to meditation, that she seemed scarce to mind anything else. She was then upon the wing. Such was her peace in her latter end, that though the symptoms showed that nature was much oppressed, yet she scarce felt any uneasiness from it. It was only from what she perceived was done to her, and from those intimations that were given her, that she judged her life to be in danger. But she scarce knew herself to be sick, by anything that she felt at heart. Her bearing so much sickness with so little emotion, was for some time imputed to that undisturbed quiet and patience in which she possessed her soul; but when she repeated it so often, that she felt herself well inwardly,' then it appeared that there was a particular blessing in so easy a conclusion of a life, that had been led through a great variety of accidents with a constant equality of temper."-Essay on the Memory of the late Queen. By Gilbert, Bishop of Sarum. 8vo, 1695.

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*The parts of the book of Daniel chiefly alluded to, are Nebuchadnezzar's dream, and Daniel's interpretation of it, in the second chapter; and his own vision of the four beasts, in the eighth. These two passages alone, preserved as they have been by the most inveterate enemies of Christianity, amount to an irrefragable demonstration that our religion is divine. One of the most ancient and most learned opposers of revelation (Porphyry) is said to have denied the possibility of these prophecies having existed before the events. But we know

events have realised with the most critical exactness; and describing their eventual subservience to the spiritual kingdom of the Messiah, with a circumstantial accuracy which the well-informed Christian, who is versed in scripture language, and whose heart is interested in the subject, reads with unutterable and never-ceasing astonishment. It is, in fact, this wonderful correspondence which gives its highest value to the more ancient half of the historic series. What would it profit us, at this day, to learn from Xenophon, that the Assyrian monarch had subjugated all those countries, with the exception of Media, which spread eastward from the Mediterranean, if it were not that, by this statement, he confirms that important portion of sacred and prophetic history? And to what solidly useful purpose would the same historian's detail of the taking of Babylon be applicable, if it did not forcibly, as well as minutely, illustrate the almost equally detailed denunciations of the prophet Isaiah? It was partly for the purpose of elucidating this correspondence between sacred prophecy and ancient history; and showing by how regular a providential chain the successive empires of the ancient world were connected with each other, and ultimately with Christianity, that the excellent Rollin composed his well-known work and the impression which his researches left upon his own mind may be.seen in those sublimely pious remarks with which his last volume is concluded.

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A careful perusal of the historical and prophetical parts of Scripture will prepare us for reading profane history with great advantage. In the former we are admitted within the veil. We are informed how the vices of nations drew down on them the wrath of the Almighty; and how some neighbouring potentate was employed as the instrument of divine vengeance. How his ambition, his courage, and military skill were but the means of fulfilling the Divine prediction, or of inflicting the Divine punishment. How, when the mighty conqueror, the executioner of the sentence of Heaven, had performed his assigned task, he was put aside, and was himself perhaps, in his turn, humbled and laid low. Such are the familiar incidents of historic and prophetic Scripture. But, in addition to the stock of knowledge which we receive from thence, we shall have learned in the divine school to little purpose, if we do not find the benefit of our studies in the general impression and habits of mind which we derive from them; if we do not open our eyes to the agency of Providence in the varying fortunes of nations, and in the talents, characters, and fates of the chief actors in the great drama of life.

Do we read in the prophetic page the solemn call and designation of Cyrus? Let us learn to recognise no less, as the instrument of the Almighty, a Gustavus and a Marlborough! Are we, many hundred years before, informed by Him who can alone see the end from the beginning, of the military exploits of the conqueror of Babylon, and the overturner of the Assyrian empire? Let us learn to refer no less to that same all-disposing power, the victories of Lützen and of Blenheim, the humiliation of Austrian arrogance, and of French ambition.

Another important end of the study of general history, distinct from they did exist, and no modern infidel dares to dispute it. But, in admitting this, however they may take refuge in their own inconsequence of mind, they inevitably, though indirectly, allow the truth of Christianity,

that which has just been mentioned, but by no means unconnected with it, is the contemplation of Divine wisdom and goodness, as exercised in gradually civilising the human race, through the instrumentality of their own agitation. In this view the mind of the pupil should be particularly led to observe that mysterious, yet most obvious operation of Providence, by which, through successive ages, the complicated chaos of human agency has been so over-ruled as to make all things work together for general good; the hostile collision of nations being often made conducive, almost in its immediate consequences, to their common benefit, and often rendered subservient to the general improvement and progressive advancement of the great commonwealth of mankind.

If this view, respecting the world at large, should be deemed too vast for satisfactory consideration, it may be limited to that part with which we are most nearly connected; and to which it is hardly too bold to say, that Divine Providence itself has, during the latter ages of the world, seemed to direct its chief attention-I mean the continent of Europe. Let it simply be asked, what was the state of this continent two thousand years ago? The answer must be-From the Alps to the Frozen Ocean, a moral as well as physical wilderness. That the human powers were formed for extended exercise, and in some sense for boundless improvement, the very contemplation of those powers is sufficient to evince. But that improvement had not then begun, nor was the frost of their dreariest winter more benumbing than that in which their minds had been for ages locked up. To what then but a regular design of Providence can we attribute the amazing change? And it is doubtless the part, no less of religious gratitude than of philosophical curiosity, to inquire into the series of instrumental causes by which the transformation was effected. This interesting and most instructing intelligence is conveyed to us by history. We mark the slow but steady development of the wise and benevolent plan. We see the ambition of Rome breaking up the soil with its resistless ploughshare, and scattering even through these British isles the first seeds of civilisation. We see the Northern invaders burst forth with irresistible violence, bringing back, to all human appearance, the former desolation; but, in reality, conducing, though with an operation like that of lava from a volcano, to a richer harvest of social and civil happiness. We see all that was really valuable spring up again afresh, mingled with new principles of utility and comfort; and above all, quickened and enriched by the wide-spread influences of a pure and heavenly religion. We see the violent passions providentially let loose, when it was necessary for society to be roused from a pernicious torpor. We see an enthusiastic rage for conquests in Asia, inducing an activity of mind, and enlargement of view, out of which eventually grew commerce, liberty, literature, philosophy, and, at length, even religious reformation. In brief, if in our perusal of history, we take true wisdom for our guide, we shall not only be instructed by that gracious progressiveness which is discernible in past events, but, notwithstanding the awful concussions of the present period, we shall learn to trust Almighty wisdom and goodness for what is to come. And we shall be ready to indulge the hope of a yet greatly increased happiness of mankind, when we consider, that the hand which brought us from barbarism to our present circumstances is still over us; that pro