already gazing into infinity, was besought by the counsellors around her
to name the man to whom she chose that the crown should devolve.

"Not to a Rough," said Elizabeth, sententiously and grimly.

When the King of France was named, she shook her head. When Philip III.
was suggested, she made a still more significant sign of dissent. When
the King of Scots was mentioned, she nodded her approval, and again
relapsed into silent meditation.

She died, and James was King of Great Britain and Ireland. Cecil had
become his prime minister long before the queen's eyes were closed. The
hard-featured, rickety, fidgety, shambling, learned, most preposterous
Scotchman hastened to take possession of the throne. Never--could there
have been a more unfit place or unfit hour for such a man.

England, although so small in dimensions, so meager in population, so
deficient, compared to the leading nations of Europe, in material and
financial strength, had already her great future swelling in her heart.
Intellectually and morally she was taking the lead among the nations.
Even at that day she had produced much which neither she herself nor any
other nation seemed destined to surpass.

Yet this most redoubtable folk only numbered about three millions,
one-tenth of them inhabiting London. With the Scots and Irish added they
amounted to less than five millions of souls, hardly a third as many as
the homogeneous and martial people of that dangerous neighbour France.

Ireland was always rebellious; a mere conquered province, hating her
tyrant England's laws, religion, and people; loving Spain, and believing
herself closely allied by blood as well as sympathy to that most Catholic
land.

Scotland, on the accession of James, hastened to take possession of
England. Never in history had two races detested each other more
fervently. The leeches and locusts of the north, as they were universally
designated in England, would soon have been swept forth from the country,
or have left it of their own accord, had not the king employed all that
he had of royal authority or of eloquent persuasion to retain them on the
soil. Of union, save the personal union of the sceptre, there was no
thought. As in Ireland there was hatred to England and adoration for
Spain; so in Scotland, France was beloved quite as much as England was
abhorred. Who could have foretold, or even hoped, that atoms so mutually
repulsive would ever have coalesced into a sympathetic