 they pitied her youth, and imputed many of them to inexperience and faults in her education. Her uncommon beauty, affability, elegance of manners, and expression, were strongly commended by all who had seen her, and those who had not, listened to the tale with avidity, and reported it with increase. Every word in her praise was a dagger to the heart of Elizabeth, and the unfortunate Mary's greatest crimes with her, were the graces she received from nature.
Lady Scroope had spent some of her early years in the French Court. Mary was too affable and amiable not to attach every one for whom she had an inclination,

and the friendship she shewed for the Lady Matilda, would have made the separation the more afflicting, but that Mary, by the death of Francis the second, found herself no longer attached to France, and was obliged, with infinite regret, to quit the kingdom she had been educated in, to govern one filled with domestic jars, and almost ignorant of those softnesses which give charms to society; and which, in a peculiar degree, adorned the court she had hitherto reigned over.
The troubles in which she had been plunged, from the hour she returned to Scotland, had scarce given her leisure to distinguish those she had formerly honored with her notice: Lady Scroope had, however, always preserved an attachment to her, less the fruit of gratitude than sympathy. The Queen's present sad situation, of which she heard amply from her Lord, touched her to the very soul. She accused Elizabeth of meanness and injustice; and, without doubting the innocence of Mary, she ardently desired to

lighten her captivity, and convince her, that misfortune had not robbed her of every friend. These sentiments were too fervently generous not to engage me. I insensibly took part in what interested my sister so nearly, and learnt to deplore a Princess thus treated, whom, in a happier situation, I should doubtless have censured.
Lord Scroope, to satisfy his wife, who entreated him to the step, represented to Elizabeth, the impropriety of leaving the Queen of Scots unaccompanied by any lady of distinction, and without the attendance, nothing could exempt the place she had chosen for an asylum, from paying her, whether guilty or innocent. To give force to this, he hinted the error of harsh measures, which interested the common people, and by engaging their pity, might weaken their fidelity.
The last reason, weighed infinitely more with our Queen than the first, for her heart was more full of policy than feeling. She however appointed
