Three times was Charles produced before the court, and as often declined that jurisdiction. On his fourth appearance, they pronounced sentence against him. It is confessed that the king's behaviour during this last scene of his life does honour to his memory; and that, in all appearances before his judges, he never forgot his part, either as a prince or as a man. Firm and intrepid, he maintained in each reply the utmost perspicuity and justness, both in thought and expression mild and equable, he rose into no passion at that unusual authority which was assumed over him. His soul, without effort or affectation, seemed only to remain in the situation familiar to it, and to look down with contempt on all the efforts of human malice and iniquity. The soldiers, instigated by their superiors, were brought, though with difficulty, to cry aloud for justice: "Poor souls!" said the king to one of his attendants, " for a little money they would do as much against their commanders." Some of them were permitted to go the utmost length of brutal insolence, and to spit in his face as he was conducted along the passage to the court. To excite a sentiment of piety was the only effect which this inhuman insult was able to produce upon him.

The people, though under the rod of lawless unlimited power, could not forbear, with the most ardent prayers, pouring forth their wishes for his preservation; and in his present distress they avowed him by their generous tears for their monarch, whom in their misguided fury they had before so violently

rejected. The king was softened at this moving scene, and expressed his gratitude for their dutiful affection. One soldier, too, seized by contagious sympathy, demanded from heaven a blessing on oppressed and fallen majesty; his officer overhearing the prayer, beat him to the ground, in the king's presence. "The punishment methinks exceeds the offence:" this was the reflection which Charles formed on that occasion.

ears.

Three days were allowed the king between his sentence and his execution. This interval he passed with great tranquillity, chiefly in reading and devotion. Every night during this interval the king slept as sound as usual, though the noise of workmen employed in framing the scaffold, and other preparations for his execution, continually resounded in his The morning of the fatal day he rose early, and calling Herbert, one of his attendants, he bade him employ more than usual care in dressing him, and preparing him for so great and joyful a solemnity. Bishop Juxon, a man endowed with the same mild and steady virtues by which the king himself was so much distinguished, assisted him in his devotions, and paid the last melancholy duties to his friend and sovereign.

The street before Whitehall was the place destined for the execution. When the king came upon the scaffold, he found it so surrounded with soldiers, that he could not expect to be heard by any of the people; he therefore addressed his discourse to the persons who were nearest him, particularly Colonel Tom

linson, to whose care he had lately been committed, and upon whom, as upon many others, his amiable deportment had wrought an entire conversion.

When he was preparing himself for the block, Bishop Juxon called to him; "There is, Sir, but one stage more, which, though turbulent and troublesome, is yet a very short one. Consider it will soon carry you a great way; it will carry you from earth to heaven, and there you shall find to your great joy the prize to which you hasten, a crown of glory." "I go," replied the king, "from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no disturbance can have place." At one blow was his head severed from his body.

It is impossible to describe the grief, indignation and astonishment which took place, not only among the spectators, who were overwhelmed with a flood of sorrow, but throughout the whole nation, as soon as the report of this fatal execution was conveyed to them. Never monarch in the full triumph of success and victory, was more dear to his people than his misfortunes and magnanimity, his patience and piety, had rendered this unhappy prince. In proportion to their former delusion which had animated them against him was the violence of their return to duty and affection; while each reproached himself, either with active disloyalty towards him, or with too indolent defence of his oppressed cause. On tender minds the effect of these complicated passions was prodigious. Women are said to have cast forth the un

timely fruit of their womb: others fell into convulsions, or sunk into such a melancholy as attended them to their grave! Nay some unmindful of themselves, as though they could not or would not survive their beloved prince, it is reported suddenly fell down dead. The very pulpits were bedewed with unsuborned tears and all men united in their detestation of those hypocritical parricides, who by sanctified pretences had so long disguised their treasons, and in this last act of iniquity had thrown an indelible stain upon the nation*+.

Hume.

+ In addition to the circumstances above mentioned, it is recorded that the king, the moment before he stretched out his neck to the executioner, said to Juxon, with a very earnest accent, the single word Remember: great mysteries were supposed to be concealed under that expression; and the generals vehemently insisted with the prelate that he should inform them of the king's meaning. Juxon told them that the king having frequently charged him to inculcate on his son the forgiveness of his murderers, had taken this opportunity, in the last moments of his life, when his commands he supposed would be regarded as sacred and inviolable, to reiterate that desire; and that his mild spirit thus terminated its present course by an act of benevolence towards his greatest enemies.

SUSANNA, COUNTESS OF suffolk.

Died May 10, 1649, aged 22.

Christians that have affliction here, shall come yonder to the perpetual Sabbath, where there is no manner of miseries, but a perpetual lauding and praising of God. LATIMER.

THE second daughter of Lord Holland, and wife of Theophilus, Earl of Suffolk. Her whole life was that which sound philosophy, or rather sound Christianity, would denominate a constant meditation on death, or preparation for it. Her behaviour in the prospect of death was, therefore, most serene, comfortable, and worthy of the true Christian.

On receiving the opinion of her friends, that she could not live, she discovered neither fears nor sorrows at parting with the world, and her relations in it. She sent for those who were nearest of kin to her, and for other friends, and with a countenance of the most solemn, yet serene gravity, began to take her leave of them, bequeathing to them spiritual comforts, fervent prayers, divine benedictions and weighty counsel and advice adapted to each of them, and especially to her lord, her children, and servants, all of which were such as tended to direct them in the way of well-doing, that so they might through the merits of Christ meet in glory hereafter; and all this with such affection, such zeal, such courage, and such proofs of her faith and assurance, that she was going from pains and miserics to the celestial rest and feli