the world have their own opinions about the political rights of those whom they deem ignorant or inexperienced.  Instead of proceeding to enlarge the bounds of popular liberties, they prefer to fall back on established duties.  Elizabeth had this preference; but she did not attempt to take away what liberties the people already had.  In encouraging the principles of the Reformation, she became their protector against Catholic priests and feudal nobles.

It is not quite just to stigmatize the government of Elizabeth as a despotism, A despotism is a regime supported by military force, based on an army, with power to tax the people without their consent,—­like the old rule of the Caesars, like that of Louis XIV. and Peter the Great, and even of Napoleon.  Now, Elizabeth never had a standing army of any size.  When the country was threatened by Spain, she threw herself into the arms of the militia,—­upon the patriotism and generosity of her people.  Nor could she tax the people without the consent of Parliament,—­which by a fiction was supposed to represent the people, while in reality it only represented the wealthy classes.  Parliament possessed the power to cripple her, and was far less generous to her than it was to Queen Victoria.  She was headed off both by the nobles and by the representatives of the wealthy, powerful, and aristocratic Commons.  She had great prerogatives and great private wealth, palaces, parks, and arbitrary courts; but she could not go against the laws of the realm without endangering her throne,—­which she was wise enough and strong enough to keep, in spite of all her enemies both at home and abroad.  Had she been a man, she might have turned out a tyrant and a usurper:  she might have increased the royal prerogatives, like Richelieu; she might have made wars, like Louis XIV.; she might have ground down the people, like her successor James.  But she understood the limits of her power, and did not seek to go beyond:  thereby proving herself as wise as she was mighty.

By most historical writers Elizabeth is severely censured for the execution of Mary Queen of Scots, and I think with justice.  I am not making a special plea in favor of Elizabeth,—­hiding her defects and exaggerating her virtues,—­but simply seeking to present her character and deeds according to the verdict of enlightened ages.  It was a cruel and repulsive act to take away the life of a relative and a woman and a queen, under any pretence whatever, unless the sparing of her life would endanger the security of the sovereign and the peace of the realm.  Mary was the granddaughter of Margaret Tudor, sister of Henry VIII, and was the lawful successor of Mary, the eldest daughter of Henry VIII.  On the principle of legitimacy, she had a title to the throne superior to Elizabeth herself, and the succession of princes has ever been determined by this.  But Mary was a Catholic, to say nothing of her levities or crimes, and had been excluded by the nation for that very