flesh whatsoever; for which you have cast me into many calamities, and yourself into many troubles: but I forgive you all, and pray God to do so likewise. For the rest, I commend unto you Mary, my daughter, beseeching you to be a good father to her, as I have heretofore desired. I must entreat you also to respect my maids, and give them in marriage, which is not much, they being but three; and to all my other servants a year's pay, besides their due, lest otherwise they should be unprovided for. Lastly, I make a vow that mine eyes desire you above all things.”

This last proof of Catharine's affection extorted tears even from the obdurate Henry. He ordered her remains to be interred with due solemnity, in the monastery of St. Peterborough, and afterwards erected that monastery into a bishop's see, as a tribute of affection and regard to the memory of a person, whose sweetness of temper and elevation of soul rendered her worthy of a better fate.

ANNE BOLEYN,

QUEEN-CONSORT OF HENRY THE EIGHTH.

ANNE BOLEYN, the daughter of sir Thomas Boleyn, was born in 1507, and carried to France at seven years of age, by the sister of Henry VIII. who was given in marriage to Louis XII. After the death of Louis, his widow returned to her native country, but Anne remained in France, in the service of Claudia, the wife of Francis I. The year of her return to England is uncertain; but it appeared to have been about

the time when scruples were first entertained by Henry VIII. respecting the legality of his marriage with the betrothed wife and widow of his brother, Catharine of Arragon. In his visits to the queen, to whom Anne Boleyn became maid of honour, Henry had an opportunity of observing her beauty and captivating manners. Anne quickly perceived her influence over the heart of the monarch, whose passion either from principle or policy, she resolutely resisted.

The king soon after, entertained the design of raising Aune Boleyn to the throne; and was the more confirmed in this resolution, when he found that her virtue precluded all hopes of gratifying his passion in any other manner. With this view he eagerly sued for a divorce from Catharine; and when Clement conducted the affair in so dilatory and ambiguous a manner, that Henry did not seem to be the least nearer the accomplishment of his wishes, he laid the extravagant proposal before the pope, to grant him a dispensation to have two wives, and to render the children of both legitimate; and as the king was a great casuist in matters of divinity, which seem to flatter his passion, he alleged in favour of so immoral a proceeding, several precedents in the Old Testament.

But when these, and all other means of obtaining the pope's consent failed of success, he broke with the see of Rome, divorced himself from Catharine, espoused Anne Boleyn, and obtained from parliament the ratification of his marriage.

Soon after this event, the pregnancy of Anne, both gave joy to the king, and was regarded by the people, as a strong proof of her virtue. On being delivered of a princess, (who afterwards swayed the sceptre with such renown under the name of Elizabeth Mary, the only daughter of

Henry by Catharine, was set aside; and the succession to the crown vested in the issue of Anne Boleyn by the king.

Henry had persevered constantly in his love for this lady, during six years that his prosecution of the divorce lasted; and the obstacles which opposed the gratification of his passion served only to redouble his ardour: but the affection which had subsisted so long under difficulties, had no sooner attained secure possession of its object than it languished from satiety; and the king's heart was apparently alienated from his consort. Her enemies soon perceived this fatal change, and were a little forward to widen the breach. She had brought forth a dead son, and Henry's extreme fondness for male issue, being thus for the present disappointed, his temper equally violent and superstitious, was disposed to make the innocent mother answerable for this misfortune. But the chief means which Anne's enemies employed to inflame the king against her, was his jealousy.

Anne, though she appears to have been entirely innocent, and even virtuous in essentials, had a certain gayety, if not levity of character, which threw her off her guard, and made her less circumspect than her situation required. Her education in France rendered her the more prone to these freedoms, and she conformed herself with difficulty to that strict ceremony which was practised in the court of England. More vain than haughty, she was pleased to see the influence of her beauty on all around her; and she indulged herself in an easy familiarity with persons who were formerly her equals.

Henry's dignity was offended by these popular manners, and though the lover had been entirely

blind, the husband possessed but too quick discernment and penetration. Wicked instruments interposed and put a malignant interpretation on the harmless liberties of the queen. The viscountess of Rocheford in particular, who was married to the queen's brother, but who had lived on bad terms with her sister-in-law, insinuated the most cruel suspicions into the king's mind; and, as she was a woman of a very profligate character, paid no regard either to truth or humanity in those calumnies which she suggested. She misrepresented every instance of favour which the queen conferred on all who approached her person, as tokens of affection; and even pretended that her own husband was engaged in a criminal correspondence with his sister. These imputations of guilt were eagerly admitted by Henry, who had transferred his affection to Jane Seymour, maid of honour to the queen, whom he had determined to raise to the throne.

The divorce of one queen, or the murder of another, under the sanction of the law, were no obstacles to Henry's will, when his passion was to be gratified.

The king's jealousy first appeared openly in a tilting at Greenwich, where the queen happened to drop her handkerchief; an instance, probably casual, but interpreted by him as an instance of gallantry to some of her paramours. He immediately retired from the place, sent orders to confine her in her chamber, arrested several gentlemen who were attendants at court, and her bro ther, the earl of Rocheford.

The queen was at first more astonished than alarmed at this instance of his violence and impetuosity, and concluded that he intended only to terrify her. But when she discovered that his

indignation did not subside, she reflected on his obstinate unrelenting spirit, and prepared herself for that melancholy doom which seemed to await her.

As she was conveyed to the tower, she was informed of her supposed offences, of which she had been hitherto ignorant: she made earnest protestations of her innocence, and when she entered her prison, she fell upon her knees, and prayed God so to help her, as she was not guilty of the crime imputed to her.

Of all those whom the beneficence of the queen's temper had obliged during her prosperous fortune, no one, except Cranmer, durst interpose between her and the king's fury; and the person whose advancement every breath had favoured, and every countenance had smiled upon, was now neglected and abandoned. Even her uncle, the duke of Norfolk, preferring the connexions of party to the ties of blood, was become her most dangerous enemy, and all the retainers to the catholic religion hoped, that her death would terminate the king's quarrel with Rome, and induce him to renew his intimate connexion with the Apostolic See.

In this crisis of alarm and danger, the queen endeavoured to soften the heart of her obdurate husband, by a letter, which from its simplicity and firmness, conveys internal evidence that she was not essentially culpable.

This letter had no influence on the mind of Henry. The four gentlemen who were arrested, were tried, but no legal evidence was procured against them. Smeton was prevailed on, by the vain hope of life, to confess a criminal eorrespondence with the queen; but her enemies never dared to confront him with her, and he was im