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tion, vigilance, and addre'ss, are allowed to merit the highest p'raises, and appea'r/ no't to have been surpa'ssed/ by any per son/ who ever-filled-a-thro`ne: a conduct less rigorous, less imperious, more since're, more indulgent, to her people, would have been requisite/ to have fo'rmed a pêrfect-character. By the force of her mind, she controlled all her more a'ctive and strong-qualities, and prevented them from running into exce'ss. Her he'roism/ was exempted from all teme`rity, her frugality/ from a varice, her friendship/ from partiality, her ênterprises/ from turbulence/ and a vain ambi'tion; she guarded not herself, with equal ca're/ or equal succe'ss, from le'ss-infirmities—the rivalship of be'auty, the desire of ad`miration, the jealousy of love, and the sa'llies of anger.
Her singular talents for government/ were fo'unded/e`qually/ on her temper, and on her capacity. Endowed with a great command over herself, she soon obtained an uncontrolled asce'ndant over the people; a'nd/ while she merited all their esteem by her real-virtues, she also engaged their affections by her prêtended-ones. Few sovereigns of England/ succeeded to the thr'one/ in more difficult-circumstances, and nône/ ever conducted the government/ with such uniform succe'ss/ and felicity. Though unacquainted with the practice of toleration, (the trûe-secret for managing religious-factions), she preserved her people, by her superior pru'dence, from those confu'sions/ in which theological controversy/ had involved all the ne'ighbouring-nations and/ though her enemies/ were the most powerful princes of Europe, the most a'ctive, the most e'nterprising, the least scrupulous; she was a'ble, by her vi`gour, to make deep impressions on their states; her own gre'atness (meanwhile) remaining untouched and unimpa'ired.
The wise ministers and brave wa'rriors (who flourished during her re'ign) share the prai'se of her succe ́ss; bu't, instead of lessening*-the-applause-due-to-her, they make great addition to it. They o'wed (all of them) their advancement to her choice; they were supported by her co'nstancy; and, with all their ability, they were never a'ble/ to acquire an undûe asc ́endant o'ver-her. In her family, in her court, in her kingdom/ she remained equally mi'stress. The force of the
* "Lessening the applause due to her," it will be observed, must be considered as one rhetorical word, having the inflexion placed over the principal accented syllable (less.)
tender pa'ssions/ was great over her, but the force of her mi^nd/ was still superior; and the com'bat/ which her victory visibly co'st her, serves only/ to display the firmness of her resolution, and the lo'ftiness of her ambi'tious se'ntiments.
The fame of this princess (though it has surmounted the prejudices/ both of faction and of bigotry), yet lies still exposed to another pre'judice, which is more durable, because more nâtural; and whi'ch (according to the different views in which we surve'y-her) is capable/ either of exalting beyond measure, or diminishing the lu'stre of her character. This prejudice is fou'nded/ on the consideration of her sex. When we contemplate her as a woman, we are apt/ to be struck with the highest admiration of her qu'alities and extensive capa ́city; but/ we are also apt/ to require some more softness of disposi'tion, some greater le'nity of te'mper, some of those âmiable w'eaknesses/ by which her se'x/ is distinguished. But the trûe method of estimating her merit i's/* to lay aside all these considerations, and to consider her merely as a rational be`ing, placed in authority, and entrusted with the government of mankind. We may find it difficult/ to reconcile our fancy to] her/ as a wife or a mi'stress; but her qualities/ as a sovereign (though with some considerable exceptions) are the object of undisputed appla'use/ and approbation.
Additional Note by the Author of Waverley.
Queen Elizabeth/ had a character/ strangely compounded of the strongest masculine se'nse, with those fo'ibles/ which are chiefly supposed pro'per/ to the female sex. Her s'ubjects/ had the full benefit of her virtues, (which far predominated over her weaknesses); but her co^urtiers, and those about her person, had often to sustain sudden and embarrassing turns of capri'ce, and the sa'llies of a te'mper/ which was both jealous/ and despo'tic. She was the nursing-mother of her people, but she was also the true daughter of Henry VIIIth'; and though early sufferings and an excellent education/ had repre`ssed and mo'dified, they had not altogether destroyed the hereditary te'mper of that "hard-ruled King." "Her mind" (says her witty god-son, Sir John Harrington, who had experienced/both the smiles and the frowns which he describ'es) was ofttime
For the propriety of pausing after the verb to be, see Note of Rule
IV. page 30.
Concluding voice; see p. 44.
like the gentle a'ir, that cometh from the western po'int/ in a summer's mo`rn,--'twas sweet and refreshing to a'll/ aroundne'r. Her speech/ did win all affections. And aga'in, she could put forth such alter'ations (when obe'dience was la'cking) as left no doubting whose daughter she wa's. When she s'miled, it was a pure su'n-shine, that every one did choose to ba'sk in, if he could; but an on/ came a storm, from a sudden gathering of clouds, and the thunder fe'll (in a wondrous m'anner) on a'll alike."
The mind of England's Elizabeth, in sho'rt, was of that, firm and decided-character/ which soon recovers its natural to`ne. It was like one of those ancient/ druidical m'onuments, called ro`cking-stones. The finger of Cu'pid (boy as he is p'ainted) could put her feelings in m'otion, but the power of Hercules/ could not destro`y their equilibrium.
CHARACTER OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
To all the charms of beauty, and the utmost elegance of external f'orm, Mary added those accomplishments/ which render their impression irresistible. Poli'te, a'ffable, in'sinuating, sprightly, and capable of speaking/ and of writing/ with equal e'ase and dignity. Sudden, however, and violent in all her attachments, because her heart was w'arm/ and unsuspicious. Impatient of contradi'ction, because she had been accustomed/ from her in'fancy/ to be treated as a queen. No stranger, on sôme-occasions, to dissimulation; which (in that perfidious court/ where she received her education) was reckoned/ among the necessary-arts-of-government. Not insensible to fl'attery, or unconscious of that pleasure/ with which almost every wo'man/ beholds the influence of her own beauty. Formed with the qu'alities/ that we lo`ve, not with the talents/ that we adm'ire, she was an agreeable wôman, rather than an illustrious que'èn.
The vivacity of her spirit (not sufficiently tempered with sound judgment), and the warmth of her heart (which was not/ at a'll times/ under the restraint of discretion), betrayed
* When the definite article occurs before words that commence with a vowel or silent h, it should be sounded nearly like the pronoun thee.-ED. +"Necessary arts of government," is one rhetorical word.
her/ bo`th into e'rrors and into crimes. To that she was always unfortunate, will not account for that long and almost uninterrupted succession of calam`ities/ which befel' her: we must likewise a'dd, that she was often impru^dent. Her passion for Darnley/ was ra'sh, yo'uthful, and excessive. And, though the sudden transition to the opposite extreme/ was the natural effect of her ill-requited lov'e, and of his ingratitude, in'solence, and brutălity; yet neither these, nor Bothwell's artful addre'ss and important se'rvices, can ju'stify-her-attachment to that nobleman. Even the manners of the a'ge (licentious as they we're) are no apology for this unhappy p'assion; nor can they induce us/ to look on that tragical and infamous sce'ne/ which followed-upon-it/ with less abhorrence. Humanity/ will draw a veil over this part of her character, which it can'not appr'ove; and may perhaps prompt so'me/ to impute her actions to her situa^tion, mo`re than to her disposition; and to lam'ent the unhappiness of the fo^rmer, rather than accu'se the perverseness of the latter. Mary's sufferings exce'ed (both in degree and in duration) those tragical distre'sses/ which fancy has feigned to excite so'rrow and commiser'ation; and/ while we survey them, we are a'pt/ altogether/ to forget her frailties; we think of her faults with less indigna'tion; and approve of our tears, as if they were shed for a p'erson/ who had attained much ne'arer/ to pu're-virtue.
With regard to the queen's person, (a circumstance not to be omitted in writing the history of a female-reign) all contemporary a'uthors agre'e/ in ascribing to M'ary the utmost be'auty of coun'tenance and elegance of sh'ape of which the human fo'rm/ is capable. Her hair was black, tho'ugh (according to the fashion of that a'ge) she frequently wore borrowed locks, and of different co`lours. Her ey'es/ were a dark gre'y, her complexion/ was exquisitely fi'ne, and her hands and ar'ms/ remarkably d'elicate, both as to sh'ape and colour. Her st'ature was of a h'eight/ that rose to the maje`stic. She danced, she walk'ed, she ro'de, with e'qual grace'. Her taste for m'usic was just and she both su'ng/ and play'ed upon the lute/ with uncommon sk'ill. No m'an (says Brantome) ever beheld her person without admir'ation and lo've, or will read her history/ without sorrow.*
* This sentence, agreeably to Rule X., page 12, terminates with the rising inflexion.
Additional Note by the Author of Waverley.
Her face, her for'm, have been so deeply impressed upon the imagin'ation, a's (even at the distance of nearly three ce'nturies) to remind the most ignorant and uninformed reader of the striking traits which characterize that remarkable co ́untenance, which see'ms/ at once/ to combine our ideas of the majestic, the pleasing, and the brilliant, leaving us to doubt/ whether they express/ mo^st happily/ the qu'een, the beauty, or the accomplished-woman. Who is the're (at the very mention of Mary Stuart's na'me) that ha's not her countenance befo're him, familiar as that of the mistress of his yo'uth, or the favourite daughter of his advanced age? Even tho`se/ who feel themselves compelled to believe a'll (or much of what her enemies laid to her ch'arge) cannot think/ without a sigh/ upon the countenance/ expressive of any thing/ rather/ than the foul crim'es/ with which she was charged while living, and wh`ich/ still continue to sh'ade, if not to bla^cken-her-memory. bro'w, so truly o'pen and re'gal-those eye-brows, so regularly graceful, which yet were saved from the charge of regular insipi'dity by the beautiful effect of the hazel ey'es/ which they over-arched, and which/ seem to utter a thousand-histories the no'se, with all its Grecian precision of o'utline-the mouth/ so well proportioned, so sweetly formed (as if designed to speak nothing but what was delightful to h'ear)-the dimpled ch'inthe stately swan-like n'eck, form a countenance, the like of wh'ich/ we know not to have existed' in any o`ther ch'aracter/ moving in that high class of life, where the a'ctress (as we'll as the actors) commands ge'neral/ and undivided attention. It is in vain to say that the portraits/ which exist of this remarkable wo'man/ are not like each o'ther; fo'r, amidst their discrepancy, e'ach/ possesses general features/ which the eye'/ at once/ acknowledges as peculiar to the vision/ which our imagination has rais`ed/ while we read her history for the first time, and which has been impressed upon it/ by the numerous prints and pictures/ which we have seen. Inde'ed/ we cannot look upon the wo^rst of th'em (however deficient in point of execution) without saying that it is meant for Queen Mary; and no small instance it i's/ of the power of beauty, that her cha'rms/ should have remained the sub'ject/ not merely of admira'tion, but of warm and chivalrous interest, after the lapse