They were rivals, besides, in literature. Mary Stuart
composed French verses; Elizabeth translated Horace. The ugly Elizabeth
decreed herself beautiful; liked quatrains and acrostics; had the keys
of towns presented to her by cupids; bit her lips after the Italian
fashion, rolled her eyes after the Spanish; had in her wardrobe three
thousand dresses and costumes, of which several were for the character
of Minerva and Amphitrite; esteemed the Irish for the width of their
shoulders; covered her farthingale with braids and spangles; loved
roses; cursed, swore, and stamped; struck her maids of honour with her
clenched fists; used to send Dudley to the devil; beat Burleigh, the
Chancellor, who would cry--poor old fool! spat on Matthew; collared
Hatton; boxed the ears of Essex; showed her legs to Bassompierre; and
was a virgin.

What she did for Bassompierre the Queen of Sheba had done for
Solomon;[11] consequently she was right, Holy Writ having created the
precedent. That which is biblical may well be Anglican. Biblical
precedent goes so far as to speak of a child who was called Ebnehaquem
or Melilechet--that is to say, the Wise Man's son.

Why object to such manners? Cynicism is at least as good as hypocrisy.

Nowadays England, whose Loyola is named Wesley, casts down her eyes a
little at the remembrance of that past age. She is vexed at the memory,
yet proud of it.

These fine ladies, moreover, knew Latin. From the 16th century this had
been accounted a feminine accomplishment. Lady Jane Grey had carried
fashion to the point of knowing Hebrew. The Duchess Josiana Latinized.
Then (another fine thing) she was secretly a Catholic; after the manner
of her uncle, Charles II., rather than her father, James II. James II.
had lost his crown for his Catholicism, and Josiana did not care to risk
her peerage. Thus it was that while a Catholic amongst her intimate
friends and the refined of both sexes, she was outwardly a Protestant
for the benefit of the riffraff.

This is the pleasant view to take of religion. You enjoy all the good
things belonging to the official Episcopalian church, and later on you
die, like Grotius, in the odour of Catholicity, having the glory of a
mass being said for you by le Pere Petau.

Although plump and healthy, Josiana was, we repeat, a perfect prude.

At times her sleepy and voluptuous way of dragging out the end of her
phrases was like the creeping of a tiger's paws in the jungle.

The adva