who unanimously resolved that the warrant should be immediately put in execution, and promised to justify Davidson to the Queen. Accordingly, the fatal instrument was delivered to Beale, who summoned the noblemen to whom it was directed, namely, the Earls of Shrewsbury, Derby, Kent and Cumberland; and these together set out for Fotheringay castle, accompanied by two executioners, to dispatch their bloody commission.

Mary heard of the arrival of her executioners, who ordered her to prepare for death by eight o'clock the next morning. Without any alarm, she heard the death-warrant read with her usual composure, though she could not help expressing her surprise that the Queen of England should consent to her execution. She even abjured her being privy to any conspiracy against Elizabeth, by laying her hand upon a New Testament, which happened to lie on the table. She desired that her confessor might be permitted to attend her; which, however, these zealots refused. After the earls had retired, she ate sparingly at supper, while she comforted her attendants (who continued weeping and lamenting the fate of their mistress) with a cheerful countenance, telling them they ought not to mourn, but to rejoice, at the prospect of her speedy deliverance from a world of misery. Towards the end of supper, she called in all her servants and drank to them; they pledged her in order on their knees, and craved her pardon for any past neglect of duty. She craved mutual forgiveness; and a plentiful effusion of tears attended this last solemn separation.

After this she reviewed her will and perused the inventory of her effects. These she bequeathed to different individuals and divided her money among her domestics, recommending them in letters to the King of France and the Duke of Guise. Then going to bed at her usual hour, she passed part of the night in uninterrupted repose, and, rising, spent the remainder in prayer and acts of devotion. Towards morning, she dressed herself in a rich habit of silk and velvet, the only one which she had reserved for this solemn occasion. Thomas Andrews, the under-sheriff of the county, then entering the room, informed her that the hour was come, and that he must attend

her to the place of execution. She replied, that she was ready; and, bidding her servants farewell, she proceeded, supported by two of her guards, and followed the sheriff with a serene composed aspect, with a long veil of linen on her head, and in her hand a crucifix of ivory. In passing through a hall adjoining to her chamber, Sir Andrew Melvil, master of her household, fell upon his knees, and, shedding a flood of tears, lamented his misfortune in being doomed to carry the news of her unhappy fate to Scotland. "Lament not," said she, "but rather rejoice. Mary Stuart will soon be freed from all her cares. Tell my friends that I die constant in my religion, and firm in my affection and fidelity to Scotland and France. God forgive them that have long desired my end, and have thirsted for my blood as the hart panteth for the water brook! Thou, O God, who art truth itself, and perfectly understandest the inmost thoughts of my heart, knowest how greatly I have desired that the realms of Scotland and England might be united. Commend me to my son, and assure him I have done nothing prejudicial to the State or the Crown of Scotland. Admonish him to persevere in amity and friendship with the Queen of England; and, for thy own part, do him faithful service. And so, good Melvil, farewell; once again farewell, good Melvil, and grant the assistance of thy prayers to thy Queen and thy mistress."

In this place she was received by the four noblemen, who with great difficulty were prevailed upon to allow Melvil, with her physician, apothecary and two female attendants, to be present at her execution. She then passed (the noblemen and the sheriff going before, and Melvil bearing up her train) into another hall, where was a scaffold erected and covered with black. As soon as she was seated, Beale began to read the warrant for her execution. Then Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough, standing without the rails, repeated a long exhortation, which she desired him to forbear, as she was firmly resolved to die in the Catholic religion. The room was crowded with spectators, who beheld her with pity and distress, while her beauty, though dimmed by age and affliction, gleamed through her sufferings, and was still remarkable in this fatal moment.

She now began, with the aid of her two women, to undress for the block; and the executioner also lent his hand to assist them. She smiled, and said that she was not accustomed to undress herself before so large a company, or to be attended by such servants. Her women bursting into tears and loud exclamations of sorrow, she turned about to them, put her finger upon her lips, as a sign of imposing silence upon them; and having given them her blessing, desired their prayers in return. The two executioners kneeling and asking her pardon, she said she forgave them, and all the authors of her death, as freely as she hoped forgiveness of her Maker; and once more made a solemn protestation of her innocence. Her eyes were then covered with a linen handkerchief; she laid herself down without any fear or trepidation, and when she had recited a psalm, and repeated a pious ejaculation, her head was severed from her body at two strokes. The executioner instantly held it up to the spectators, streaming with blood and agitated with the convulsions of death. The Dean of Peterborough alone exclaimed, "So perish all Queen Elizabeth's enemies!" The Earl of Kent replied, "Amen," while the rest of the spectators wept and sighed at this affecting spectacle; for flattery and zeal alike gave place to stronger and better emotions. Thus died Mary, in the forty-fifth year of her age, and the nineteenth of her captivity-a princess unmatched in beauty, and unequalled in misfortunes. In contemplating the contentions of mankind, we find almost ever both sides culpable: Mary, who was stained with crimes that deserved punishment, was put to death by a princess who had no right to inflict punishment on her equal.—O. GOLDSMITH.

MARCUS AURELIUS occupies a unique position in the world's history. Though a Stoic philosopher of the strictest views and practice, he was sovereign of the Roman Empire at the time of its widest extent. Though a Pagan, he has elicited the highest praise for moral character and teachings from the highest Christian authorities, yet he was unflinchingly hostile to Christianity, and his reign was marked by severe persecutions of the early Church. He has left a work which shares the popularity and fame of Thomas A Kempis' "Imitation of Christ." The difficulty of solving this historical enigma is enhanced by the entire transparency of his words and deeds.

Marcus Aurelius, the noblest of the Pagan Emperors, was born of a noble family at Rome, in April, 121 A.D. His father, Annius Verus, who held the office of Prætor, died, leaving him an infant to the care of his mother, Domitia Calvilla. His own original name was Marcus Annius Verus. He was liberally and carefully educated under direction of his grandfather, by able teachers, among whom were Fronto, Rusticus and Herodes Atticus. In early youth he became a devoted lover of the Stoic philosophy, and his practice rendered him the most illustrious ornament of that sect. The natural goodness of his heart, and sweetness of his temper, preserved him from the pride and asperity which sometimes appeared in the Stoic character. In 138, A.D., his uncle Antoninus Pius, became Emperor, as the successor of Hadrian. The latter had adopted Antoninus Pius on condition that he should adopt young Verus, then full of promise. Had the law

permitted, Hadrian would probably have adopted him directly as his successor. After Verus had been adopted by the new Emperor, he bore the name of Marcus Ælius Aurelius Antoninus; but he is generally known as Marcus Aurelius.

He married Faustina, a daughter of Antoninus Pius, who, strange to say, though reared in a nursery of virtues, became, according to the gossiping historians of the time, notorious for her vices. But Aurelius, in his "Meditations," declares the contrary, and testifies to her goodness. After being chosen Consul, in 140, A.D., Aurelius was associated with his uncle in the administration of the Empire, and possessed all the honor and power which Antoninus could confer upon him. Complete concord existed between these imperial rulers till the death of Antoninus, in 161 A.D. A short time before his death, Antoninus recommended Marcus Aurelius as his successor to the leading men of Rome, without mentioning his other adopted son, called Lucius Verus. Marcus could have become the sole Emperor; but he showed his magnanimity by admitting Lucius Verus as a partner in the Empire, and giving him the title of Cæsar and Augustus. Verus, a weak and somewhat vicious person, showed respect for his colleague, and deferred habitually to his judgment and will, so that they reigned together without discord, until Verus died, 169 A.D., after which Aurelius remained sole master of the Empire.

The early years of this reign were disturbed by earthquakes, inundations, plagues of insects and other calamities. The Parthians defeated a Roman army and ravaged Syria. Another Roman army sent to Armenia gained a victory over the Parthians in 165 A.D., and the Parthian war then terminated. Although M. Aurelius preferred peace, he was almost continually involved in war. His reign was disturbed by inroads of the German tribes of Marcomanni and Quadi and other barbarians. In 174 A.D. he gained a decisive victory over the Quadi, which was generally regarded as a miracle by both Christians and Pagans. In this battle the thirsty Romans. were refreshed by a shower of rain; while the hail and thunder, which accompanied the rain, confounded and demoralized their enemies. The heathen writers ascribed the victory to Jupiter; but the Christians affirmed that their God granted this. 11-17