had qualities which made
her dangerous and odious. If she had not been executed, she would have
been execrated. But her sufferings and unfortunate death appeal to the
heart of the world, and I would not fight against popular affections and
sympathies. Though she committed great crimes and follies, and was
supposed to be dangerous to the religion and liberties of England, she
died a martyr,--as Charles I. died, and Louis XVI.,--the victim of great
necessities and great animosities.

The execution of Essex is another of the popular rather than serious
charges against Elizabeth. He had been her favorite; he was a generous,
gifted, and accomplished man,--therefore, it is argued, he ought to have
been spared. But he was caught with arms in his hands. He was a traitor
to the throne which enriched him and the nation which flattered him. He
was at the head of foolish rebellion, and therefore he died,--died like
Montmorency in the reign of Henry IV., like Bassompierre, like Norfolk
and Northumberland, because he had committed high-treason and defied the
laws. Why should Elizabeth spare such a culprit? No former friendship,
no chivalrous qualities, no array of past services, ever can offset the
crime of treason and rebellion, especially in unsettled times; and
Elizabeth would have been worse than weak had she spared so great a
criminal, both according to the laws and precedents of England and the
verdict of enlightened civilization. We may compassionate the fate of
Essex; but he was rash, giddy, and irritated, and we feel that he
deserved his punishment.

The other charges brought against Elizabeth pertain to her as a woman
rather than a sovereign. They say that she was artful, dissembling,
parsimonious, jealous, haughty, and masculine. Very likely,--and what
then? Who claimed that she was perfect, any more than other great
sovereigns whom on the whole we praise? These faults, too, may have been
the result of her circumstances, rather than native traits of character.
Surrounded with spies and enemies, she was obliged to hide her thoughts
and her plans. Irritated by treason and rebellions, she may have given
vent to unseemly anger. Flattered beyond all example, she may have been
vain and ostentatious. Possessed of great powers, she may have been
arbitrary. Crippled by Parliament, she may have nursed her resources.
Compelled to give to everything, she may have been parsimonious.
Slandered by her enemies, she may have been resentf