Elizabeth had always accompanied Mary to mass whenever occasion
required; she had always spoken respectfully of the Catholic faith; and
once she asked Mary to lend her some Catholic books, in order that she
might inform herself more fully on the subject of the principles of the
Roman faith. It is true, she acted thus not because there was any real
leaning in her mind toward the Catholic religion; it was all merely a
wise and sagacious policy. Surrounded by difficulties and dangers as she
was during Mary's reign, her only hope of safety was in passing as
quietly as possible along, and managing warily, so as to keep the
hostility which was burning secretly against her from breaking out into
an open flame. This was her object in retiring so much from the court
and from all participation in public affairs, in avoiding all religious
and political contests, and spending her time in the study of Greek, and
Latin, and philosophy. The consequence was, that when Mary died, nobody
knew certainly what course Elizabeth would pursue. Nobody had any strong
motive for opposing her succession. The council, therefore, after a
short consultation, concluded to do nothing but simply to send a message
to the House of Lords, announcing to them the unexpected death of the
queen.

The House of Lords, on receiving this intelligence, sent for the Commons
to come into their hall, as is usual when any important communication is
to be made to them either by the Lords themselves or by the sovereign.
The chancellor, who is the highest civil officer of the kingdom in
respect to rank, and who presides in the House of Lords, clothed in a
magnificent antique costume, then rose and announced to the Commons,
standing before him, the death of the sovereign. There was a moment's
solemn pause, such as propriety on the occasion of an announcement like
this required, all thoughts being, too, for a moment turned to the
chamber where the body of the departed queen was lying. But the
sovereignty was no longer there. The mysterious principle had fled with
the parting breath, and Elizabeth, though wholly unconscious of it, had
been for several hours the queen. The thoughts, therefore, of the august
and solemn assembly lingered but for a moment in the royal palace, which
had now lost all its glory; they soon turned spontaneously, and with
eager haste, to the new sovereign at Hatfield, and the lofty arches of
the Parliament hall rung with loud acclamations, "God save Q