Queen Mary, who appears to have been incapable of generosity or clemency, determined to remove every person, from whom the least danger could he apprehended. Warning was therefore, given to lady Jane to prepare for death; a doom which she had expected, and which the innocence of her life, as well as the misfortunes to which she had been exposed, rendered no unwelcome news to her. The queen's bigoted zeal, under colour of tender mercy to the prisoner's soul, induced her to send priests, who molested her with perpetual disputation; and even a reprieve' of three days was granted her, in hopes that she would be persuaded, during that time, to pay, by a timely conversion to popery, some regard to her eternal welfare. Lady Jane had presence of mind in those melancholy circumstances, not only to defend her religion by solid arguments, but also to write a letter to her sister in the Greek language; in which, beside sending her a copy of the scriptures in that tongue, she exhorted her to maintain, in ev. ery fortune, a like steady perseverance. On the day of her execution, her husband, lord Guilford, desired permission to see her; but she refused her consent, and sent him word, that the tenderness of their parting would overcome the fortitude. of both; and would too much unbend their minds from that constancy which their approaching end required of them. Their separation, she said, would be only for a moment; and they would soon rejoin each other in a scene, where their affections would be for ever united; and where death, disap pointment, and misfortunes, could no longer have access to them, or disturb their eternal felicity.

It had been intended to execute the lady Jane and lord Guilford together on the same scaffold, at Tower-hill: but the council, dreading the compassion of the people for their youth beauty, innocence and noble birth, changed their orders, and gave directions that she should be beheaded within the verge of the lower. She saw her husband led to execution; and having given him from the window some token of her remembrance, she waited with tranquillity till her own appointed hour should bring her to a like fate. She even saw his headless body car ied back in a cart: and found herself more confirmed by the reports, hich she heard of the con stancy of his end, than shaken by so tender and melancholy a spectacle. Sir Jobu Gage, constable of the Tower when he led her to execution, desired her to bestow on him some email present which he might keep as a perpetual menorial her. She gave him her table-book, in which she had just

written three sentences, on seeing her husband's dead body: one in Greek, another in Latin, a third in English. The purport of them was, " that human justice was against his body, but the divine Mercy would be favourable to his sou': and that if her fault deserved punishment, her youth, at least, and her imprudence, were worthy of excuse; and that God and posterity, she trusted would shew her favour." On the scaffold, she made a speech to the bystanders, in which the mild. ness of her disposition led her to take the blame entirely on herself, without uttering one complaint against the severity with which she had been treated. She said that her offence was, not having laid her hand upon the crown, but not rejecting it with sufficient constancy; that she had less erred through ambition than through reverence to her parents.whom she had been taught to respect and obey; that she willingly received death, as the only satisfaction which she could now make to the injured state; and though her infringement of the laws had been constrained, she would show, by her voluntary submission to their sentence, that she was desirous to atone for that disobedience,into which too much filial piety had betrayed her that she had justly deserved this punishment for being made the instrument, though the unwilling instrument, of the ambition of others; and that the story of her life, she hoped, might at least be useful, by proving that innocence excuses not great misdeeds, if they tend any way to the destruction of the commonwealth.-After uttering these words, she caused herself to be disrobed by her women, and with a steady, serene countenance, submitted herself to the ex-cutioner.

HUME.

1

SECTION VI.

THE HILL OF SCIENCE.

In that season of the year, when the serenety of the sky,the Various fruits which cover the ground,the discoloured foliage of the trees, and all the sweet, but fading graces of inspiring autumn, open the mind to benevolence, and dispose it for contemplation, I was wandering in a beautiful and romantic country, till curiosity began to give way to weariness; and I sat down on the fragment of a rock overgrown with moss; where the rustling of the falling leaves, the dashing of waters, and the hum of the distant city, soothed my mind into a most perfect tranquillity: and sleep insensibly stole upon me, as I was indulging the agreeable reveries, which the objects around me Laturally inspired.

I immediately found myself in a vast extended plain, in the middle of which arose a mountain higher than I had before any cenception of. It was covered with a multitude of people, chiefly youth; many of whom pressed forward with the liveliest expression of ardour in their countenance, though the way was in many places steep and difficult. I observed, that those who had but just began to climb the hill, thought themselves not far from the top; but as they proceeded, new hills were continually rising to their view; and the summit of the highest they could before discern seemed but the foot of another, till the mountain at length appeared to lose itself in the clouds. As I was gazing on these things with astonishment, a friendly instructor suddenly appeared: "The mountain before thee," said he, "is the hill of Science. On the top is the temple of Truth, whose head is above the clouds, and a veil of pure light covers her face. Observe the progress of

her votaries: be silent and attentive."

After I had noticed a variety of objects, I turned my eyes toward the multitudes who were climbing the steep ascent ; and observed amongst them a youth of a lively look, a pierc ing eye, and something fiery and irregular in all his motions. His name was Genius. He darted like an eagle up the moun tain; and left his companions gazing after him with envy and admiration but his progress was unequal and interrupted by a thousand caprices. When pleasure warbled in the valley, he mingled in her train. When Pride beckoned towards the precipice, he ventured to the tottering edge. He delighted in devious and untried paths: and made so many excursions from the road, that his feebler companions often outstripped him. I observed that the muses beheld him with partiality; but Truth often frowned, and turned aside her face. While Genius was thus wasting his strength in eccentric flights, I saw a person of a very different appearance, named Application. He crept along with slow and unremitting pace, his eyes fixed on the top of the mountain, patiently removing ev. ery stone that obstructed his way, till he saw most of those below him who had at first derided his slow and tilsome progress. · Indeel, there were few who ascended the hill with equal and uninterrupted steadiness; for, beside the difficulties of the way, they were continually solicited to furn aside, by a numerous crowd of appetites, passions, and pleasures, wh.se importunity, when once complied wi h, they became less and les able to resist; and though they often returned to the path, the aspurities of the road were more severely felt; the hill ap

peared more steep and rugged; the fruits which were wholesome and refreshing, seemed harsh and ill-tasted; their sight grew dim; and their feet tripped at every little obstruction.

I saw, with some surprise, that the muses, whose business was to cheer and encourage those who were toiling up the ascent, would often sing in the bowers of pleasure, and accom. pany those who were enticed away at the call of the passions. They accompanied them, however, but a little way and always forsook them when they lost sight of the hill. The tyrants then doubled their chains upon the unhappy captives; and led them away, without resistance, to the cells of Ignorance, or the mansions of Misery. Amongst the innumera. ble seducers, who were endeavouring to draw away the votaries of Truth from the path of science, there was one so little formidable in her appearance, and so gentle and languid in her attempts, that I should scarcely have taken notice of her, but for the numbers she had imperceptibly loaded with her chains. Indolence, (for so she was called,)far from proceeding to open hostilities,did not attempt to turn their feet out of the path, but contented herself with retarding their progress: and the pur pose she could not force them to abandon, she persuaded them to delay. Her touch had a power like that of the torpedo, which withered the strength of those who come within its influence. Her unhappy captives still turned their faces towards the temple, and always hoped to arrive there; but the ground seemed to slide from beneath their feet, and they found themselves at the bottom, before they suspected they had changed their place. The placid serenity, which at first appeared in their countenance, changed by degrees into a melancholy languor, which was tinged with deeper and deeper gloom,as they glided down the stream of insignificance; a dark and sluggish water, which is curled by no breeze, and enlivened by no murmur, till it falls into a dead sea, where startled passengers are awakened by the shock, and the next moment buried in the gulph of oblivionat

Of all the unhappy deserters from the paths of Science, none seemed less able to return than the followers of Indolence. The captives of Appetite and Passion could often seize the moment when their tyrants were languid or asleep, to escape from their enchantment; but the dominion of Indolence was constant and unremitted; and seldom resisted, till resistance was in vain. <

After contemplating these things, I turned my eyes wards the top of the mountain, where the air was always p

and exhilerating, the path shaded with laurels and other evergreens, and the effulgence which beamed from the face of Science, seemed to shed a glory round her votaries. Happy, said I, are they who are permitted to ascend the mountain !But while I was pronouncing this exclamation, with uncommon ardour, I saw, standing beside me, a form of diviner features, and a more benign radience. "Happier," said she, "are they whom virtue conducts to the mansions of content!" "What," said 1, does virtue then reside in the vale ?" "I am found," said shy," in the vale, and illuminate the mountain: I cheer the cottager at his toil, and inspire the sage at his meditation. I mingle in the crowd of cities, and bless the hermit in his cell. I have a temple in every heart that owns my influence; and to him that wishes for me, I am already present. Scince may raise thee to eminence; but I alone can guide thee to felicity !"-While Virtue was thus speaking, I stretched out my arms towards her, with a vehemence which broke my slumber. The chill dews were falling around me, and the shades of evening stretched over the landscape. I hastened homeward and resigned the night to silence and meditation.**

SECTION VIII.

AIKIN.

THE JOURNEY OF A DAY; A PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE. OBIDAH, the son of Abensina, left the caravansera early in the morning and pursued his journey through the plains of Indostan. He was fresh and vigorous with rest; he was animated with hope he was incited by desire: he walked swiftly forward over the valleys, and saw the hills gradually rising before him. As he passed along, his ears were delighted with the morning song of the bird of paradise ; he was fanned by the last flutters of the sinking breeze, and sprinkled with dew by groves of spices. He sometimes contemplated the towering beigh of the oak, monarch of the hills; and sometimes caught the gentle fragrance of the primrose, eldest daughter of the spring: all his senses were gratified, and all care was banished from his heart."

Thus he went on, till the sun approached his meridian, and the increasing heat preyed upon his strength; he then looked round about him for some more commodious path. He saw, on his right hand, a grove that seemed to wave its shades as a sign of invitation; he entered it, and found the coolness and verdure irresistably pleasant. He did not, however, forget whither he was travelling; but found a narrow way bordered