day; though
in the item of taxation the contrast may be rather fitted to provoke a
sigh.

The portrait of Queen Mary is given by the Venetian minister, with a
coloring somewhat different from that in which she is commonly depicted
by English historians. She was about thirty-six years of age at the time
of her accession. In stature, she was of rather less than the middle
size,--not large, as was the case with both her father and mother,--and
exceedingly well made. "The portraits of her," says Micheli, "show that
in her youth she must have been not only good-looking, but even
handsome;--though her countenance, when he saw her, exhibited traces of
early trouble and disease."[54] But whatever she had lost in personal
attractions was fully made up by those of the mind. She was quick of
apprehension, and, like her younger sister, Elizabeth, was mistress of
several languages, three of which, the French, Spanish, and Latin, she
could speak; the last with fluency.[55] But in these accomplishments she
was surpassed by her sister, who knew the Greek well, and could speak
Italian with ease and elegance. Mary, however, both spoke and wrote her
own language in a plain, straightforward manner, that forms a contrast
to the ambiguous phrase and cold conceits in which Elizabeth usually
conveyed, or rather concealed, her sentiments.

[Sidenote: CHARACTER OF MARY.]

Mary had the misfortune to labour under a chronic infirmity, which
confined her for weeks, and indeed months, of every year to her chamber,
and which, with her domestic troubles, gave her an air of melancholy,
that in later years settled into a repulsive austerity. The tones of her
voice were masculine, says the Venetian, and her eyes inspired a
feeling, not merely of reverence, but of fear, wherever she turned them.
Her spirit he adds, was lofty and magnanimous, never discomposed by
danger, showing in all things a blood truly royal.[56]

Her piety, he continues, and her patience under affliction, cannot be
too greatly admired. Sustained, as she was, by a lively faith and
conscious innocence, he compares her to a light which the fierce winds
have no power to extinguish, but which still shines on with increasing
lustre.[57] She waited her time, and was plainly reserved by Providence
for a great destiny.--We are reading the language of the loyal Catholic,
grateful for the services which Mary had rendered to the faith.

Yet it would be uncharitable not to believe that Mary w