cacti in a series, which are not itppliceble to any

general result death. No other period of similar duration in the annals of until they shall have been accumulated in considerable numbers, that country, blood-stained as they are, and marked with the and wherein the laborious accuracy of the unrewarded observer is fierce and songuinary spirit. of its people, is so thickly studded absolutely indispensable as a pseliininary to the ultimate success of with occurrhsces of deep and tragic interesa—occurrences, at the

to add many new facts to the portion of Scottish history to which language were surely framed tbr nobler purposes than these.this volume relates, as well as to throw new light upon the proper We ohserve in the Address of the Secretaries of the Association inferences derivable from what had been already established. To certain ostentatious compliments to the noblemen enrolled among those who are acquainted with the previous portion of his work, it thene w! -rich we think altogether misplaced. if they wish to uphold is hardly necessary to say that his use of his materials is skilful, the dignity of science, and to set a conspicuous example of that judicious, and satisfitetory. Ik is cautious and discreet, never genuine and disinterested love of knowledge which is the l'imitful allowing, his ardour for discovery and love of the distinction to be parent of useful results, they will refrain from dwelling thus pub- thereby achieved to make him forget what is due to the cause of hely upon any gradations of rank not founded upon intellectual truth. Ile puts the reader in possession of the means of judging

eminence. as to the weight of his authorities. wahsits them in the balance of 'ffIE DANGER OF 1 3ELNG sk W.A.G. rigorous examination, mid points out \\here they are found wanting, in case: where a less scrupulous baptiser might have allowed them

" You's Lordship has a taste for humour," Prince ALBERT iS Made to pass current for the sake of the strikini or startling nature of to say to Lord Mimeos' RN % ill one of Mrs recent publications. . their results.

The murder of Dsvin Rizzi. (or Ili I ■:,'1, '• ea Mr. TYTLTII sees

modest—" I know it : and I mita help it Lord MELBOURNE it proper to call him,) was porta:Imes w menths atter the has an toidat white propensity to flout people who come to hint,' (amen's marriage with Dsusses. v - Ts thr, o s m ....- lieht ,. se set. ,md Involves on the conspinte, which to-elite:it hi

, St`Na Val part ieS ill it. not previout.- :- . lle not only shows . teet mueen ELIZABETH and her . I, et-ii. :Ind LmensTER s.vere melo II 111 of the p'.ot ses.:ee. .. ::a. or the floor and appreved of it hut thet it o as lose: ta, se i sanctioned by Anti-Corn-liov Delegates wiiited up 011 Lord IMithiemo::n.: la St year, Ton's a ls: N, 0: -ill Other WOrettl. that 1 !',,' t_'-''t .:: ":, , : :, iS11 Retiamer they were turned off:with playful sarcasm. At a recent meeting at was w! occ,ss,,rg bc1;■re the .1;0

o se' sssox : but its execution

Monros, ofterwanis Regert of St•,'7 -1- „ ' veeded in securing the cow-see:ems a

hcr Alinisters. :Ind of the les

greftt gle:, : i:• I • ii Id:t id i: : di Ii it :' :::O.l he: , do you w:iitt 1,3 1/0 1110 1 11111';',..h. ” 77/11/... :,:il S Mr. TN I 1.!:. - 1, l :.t. st alarm at F,..t:11,1i,l:;,1 t '!:rvell yonrlv...- :' Tis: y answered no, sod treed the sline ! this niontellt. It was known that . eeti tile Popish argit■denk Is ;-.• they 1■:1,1 t II !.! ,r.! ,I■■IIII 1! ll ,e11. Pot his Lord:di:1), still in- hi Ii n'' ; and

' Imerne: it seas believed that Iliceio s t:Icre was no doubt that some es, .., ..: of the

litallall C:1!10lie relit:601I Were in 1,. .- ',I t'er

nrst movers r the Earl

• ,:s Earl of sti :h:It

suc-

:5 sit TO and

a in Ediu-

se- the Tvermat leaves, we think., no .1 . 1 sma WaS

mitirely by religions zed. isa ''ash a it , sish

motives of those who In:1-r hi' • 11

action, cannot he questioned: hut i: picture of' the age. Blot a Christian poster. et' ,' t salted virtue, and sincere piety—a In:in mem: . e, a never

cease to vemsrate—should havC ni ill .1 all atrocious crime, his detected ill \\ Si \l'd indelible stain 4m his memory. 1%Ir. T rralt It's narrative of thei

teretellsoutees hums:dim ely pre- ceding the murder of Ricci°. and of the cametrophe itself. is very striking. and contains several circumstances not presiously men- tioned.

o whilst these terrible designs were in rvrarati011 5g:1111!=t her, seine hints of' approaching danger were come; ed to the s,..ottl.di gacell: but she inwru.-

ile

Calder, and Orndston. anti oth,. at the some time admitted int,, stated for the tirst time, the ii If I t. now s.::t tsiI'\.. v air. miot, an astrologer whom he used to consult ; and who bade him beware of the bastard—evidently alluding to George Douglas, the natural son of the Earl of Angus, and one of the chief conspirators ; but he imagined that he pointed at Murray, then in banishment, and derided his apprehensions. Meantime, every tffing was in readiness: a large concourse of the friends of the Reformed Church assembled at Edinburgh for the week of fasting and humiliation : di- rections for prayer and sermons had been previously drawn up by Knox and the ministers ; and the subjects chosen were such as seemed calculated to prepare the public mind for resistance, violence, and bloodshed. They were se- lected from the Old Testament alone ; nod included, amongst other examples, the slaying of Oreb and Zeit, the cutting off the Benjamites, the fast of Esther, the hanging of human—inculcating the duty of inflicting snift and summary vengeance on :di who persecuted the people of God. " On the 31 March the (list commenced in the capital, and on the 4th Par- liament assembled. It was opened by the Queen in person ; and the Lords of the Articles having been chosen, the statute of treason and forfeiture against Murray and the banished Lords was prepared. This was on a Thursday ; and on Tuesday in the ffillowing ireek the act was to be passed; but it was fear- fully arrested in its progress. " On Saturday evening, about seven o'clock, when it was dark, the Earls of Morton and Lindsay, with a hundred and fifty men bearing torches and Nvea- pons, occupied the court of the palace of Holyrood, seized the gates without re- sistance, and closed them against all but their own friends. At this moment Mary was at supper in a small closet or cabinet which entered from her bed- chamber. She was attended by the Countess of Argile, the Commendator of holyrood, Beaton, Master of the household, Arthur Erskine, Captain of the Guard, and her Secretary Ricci°. The bedchamber communicated by a se- cret turnpike-stair with the King's apertment below, to which the conspirators bad been admitted ; and Darnley, ascending this stair, threw up the arras which concealed its °ruble, in the wall, entered the little apartment where Mary sat, and casting his arm fondly round her waist, seated himself beside her at table. A minute had scarcely- passed when Ruthven, clad in complete armour, abruptly broke in. This man had just risen from a sick bed: his tea- tures were sunk and pale from disease, his voice hollow, and his whole appear- ance haggard and terrible. Mary, who was now seven months gone with child, started up in terror, commanding him to be gone ; but ere the words were uttered, torchee gleamed in the outer room, a confused noise of voices and weapons was heard, and the next moment George Douglas, Car of Faudonside, and other conspirators, rushed into the closet. Ruthven now drew his dagger, and calling out that their business was with Riccio, made an effort to seize him ; whilst this miserable victim, springing behind the Queen, clung by her gown, and in his broken language called out Ginstizia, Giustizia, saute ma vie, madame, saute ma vie.' All was now uproar and confusion ; and though Mary earnestly implored them to have mercy, they were deaf to her entreaties : the table and 14;1its were thrown down ; Ricci() was stabbed by Douglas over the Queen's shoulder ; Car of Faudonside, one of the most fern. . eious of the conspirators, held a pistol to her breast ; and whilst she shrieked with terror, their bleediug victim was torn front her knees, and dragged, amidst shouts and execrations, through the Queen's bedroom to the entrance of the presence-chamber. Here Morton and his men rushed upon him, and buried their daggers in his body. So eager and reckless were they in their ferocity, that in the struggle to get at him they wounded one another ; nor did they think the work complete till the body was mangled by fifty-six wounds, anti left in a pool of blood, with the King's dagger sticking in it, to show, as was afterwards alleged, that he had sanctioned the murder.

" Nothing can more strongly show the ferocious manners of the times than an incident which now occurred. Ruthven, faint from sickness and reeking from the scene of blood, staggered into the Queen's cabinet, where Mary still stood distracted and in terror of her life. Here he threw himself upon a seat, called for a cup of wine, and being reproached for the cruelty of his conduct, not only vindicated himself and his associates, but plunged a new dagger into the heart of the unhappy Queen by declaring that her husband had advised the whole. She was then ignorant of the completion of the murder, but sud- denly one of her ladies rushed into the room and cried out that their victim was slain. And is it so?' said Mary ; 'then farewell tears, we must now think of revenge.' "

The murder of the Queen's Italian favourite was soon followed by a darker and deeper tragedy—the murder of her husband. :Mr. TYTLER has done much to discover the intrigues which led to this atrocity, and the circumstances attending it ; but it is remarkable that the queestio vexata of Many's share in the guilt still remains unresolved. Ills narrative, though be does not give an opinion, strengthens, we think, the presumption against her ; but still it is only a presumption. It is well known that MARY'S violent love for DARNLEY scarcely survived their marriage. It was followed by an estrangement which soon rose to hatred; and the hatred was mutual. The plot against the life of Ricci° was only a part of a still deeper conspiracy formed by DARNLEY and his father against the crown and life of the Queen herself; a fact which is not only proved by con- temporary correspondence, but appears to have been strongly suspected by the Queen, who also became fully aware that her husband had been the sole instigator and contriver of Iticcio's murder— "The dreadful truth," says Mr. Tyller, "now broke upon her in all its sick- ening and heertrending force. She now understood for the first time that the King u as the principal conspirator against her, the defamer of her honour, the plotter against her liberty and her crown, the almost murderer of herself and her unborn child : he was convicted as a traitor and a liar, false to his own honour, false to her, false to his associates in crime. At this moment Mary must Lave felt, that to have leant upon a husband whom she could trust, might, amid the terrible plots with which she was surrounded, have been the means of saving herself and her crown; but on Darnley she could never lean again. Can we wonder that her heart was almost brolZen by the discovery— that, to use the words of Meld), she should have loudly lamented the King's folly sad untliankfulnese that she was compelled to withdraw from him all con- fidence, and in solitary bitterness to act entirely for herself," Their mutual aversion was not softened even by the birth of their son ; and matters between them came to such an extremity that the faction, who by this time were meditating the death of' DARNLEY, ventures! to hint to NIARY a scheme for putting an end to her sor- rows—a scheme which, they darkly gave her to understand, involved not only the divorce but the death of her worthless husband. The Queen commanded MERRAy, BoriswELL, and their associates, to abandon all thoughts of any such design : but the knowledge of it seems to have caused no diminution in her favour towards them, especially towards BOTHWELL, to whom, indeed, her infatuated attachment was already becoming apparent. It was not till DARN.. visited by the Queen with real or apparent kindness, and conveyed by her, with affectionate care, to the solitary house at the Kirk of Field, where he immediately afterwards met his fate. So sudden a reconciliation, considering the terms on which the parties were, can hardly be accounted for by the King's having had an attack of smallpox. Be that as it may, DARNLEY himself had strong suspi- cions on the subject. In the course of their loving interview, Many told him she had brought a litter to carry him to Craigmillar ; whither he consented to go. But she had no sooner left him than he expressed his misgivings to CRAWFORD, one of his servant He asked this man what be thought of the Queen's taking hint Craigmillar ? " She treats your Majesty," said CaAwroan, " too like a prisoner : why should you not be taken to one of your own houses in Edinburgh ?" " It struck me much the same way," answered Dauma,,y ; " and I have fears enough : but, may God judge between us, I have her promise only to trust to ; but I have put myself in her hands, and I shall go with her though she should murder MC." lie went with her accordingly; but was conveyed, not to Craigmillar, but to the lone house at the Kirk of Field—. a mean and insecure mansion. here she treated him for some days with much apparent affection, and attended sedulously to his com- forts. On the fatal night of the 9th of February 15137, the Queen, after supper, suddenly remembered a promise to honour with her presence the wedding of a fiwourite domestic in Holyrood, mid left the house with her attendants. Mr. TYTLER thus relates the catastrophe; the circumstances of which differ from those generally given. DARNLEY, it will be observed, was strangled by his mur- derers, before the house was blown up.

" Soon after, the King retired to his bedchamber. Since Ids illness there ap- peared to have been a great change in him. Ile had become more thoughtful, and thought had brought with it repentance of his former courses. lie lae mented there were few near hint whom he could trust ; and at times he would say that he knew he should be slain, complaining that he was hardly dealt with : but from these sorrows he had sought refuge in religion ; and it was re- marked that on this night, his last in this world, he had repeated the Fifty- fifth Psalm, which be would often read mid sing. After his devotion, be went to bed and fell asleep; Taylor, his page, being beside hint in the same apart- ment. This was the moment seized by the murderers (who still lurked in the lower room) to complete their dreadful purpose; but their miserable victim was awakened by the noise of their false keys in the lock of his apartment, and, rushing down in his shirt and pelisse, endeavoured to make his escape ; but he was intercepted and strangled, atter a desperate resistance—his cries for mercy being heard by some women in the nearest house : the page was also strangled; and their bodies carried into a small orchard, without the garden-wall, where they were found, the King in his shirt only, and the pelisse by his side. Amid the conflicting stories of the ruffians who were executed, it is difficult to arrive at the whole truth; but no doubt rests on the part acted by Bothwell, the arch-conspirator. he had quitted the King's apartments with the Queen, and joined the festivities in the palace, front which about midnight he stole away, changed his rich dress, and rejoined the murderers, who waited for him at the Kirk of Field. His arrival was the signal to complete their purpose : the match witslighted, but burnt too slow for their breathless impatience, and they were stealieg forward to examine it, when it took effect. A loud noise like the bursting of a thunder-cloud awoke the sleeping city : the King's house was torn in pieces and cast into the air, and the assassins, hurrying from the spot under cover of the darkness, regained the palace. Here Bothwell had scarcely undressed and gone to bed, when the cry arose in the city, that the Kirk of Field had been blown up, and the King murdered. The news flew quickly to Holyrood; and a servant rushing into his chamber, imparted the dreadful tidings. Ile started up in well-feigned astonishment, and shouted Treason!' he was joined next moment by Huffily, a brother-conspirator ; and imme- diately these two noblemen, with others belonging to the Court, entered the Queen's apartments, when Mary was made acquainted with the dreadful fate of her husband. She was horror-struck, shut herself up in her bedchamber, and seemed overwhelmed with sorrow.

" The murder had been committed on Monday, about two in the morning; and when clay broke, multitudes crowded to examine the Kirk of lid,). Any lengthened scrutiny, however, was not permitted; for Bothwell soon repaired to the spot with a guard ; and the King's body was carried to a neighbouring house, where it lay till it woe produced before the Privy Council. In the brief interval, however, it had been noted that the bodies both of Darnley and of his page were unscathed by fire or powder, and that no blood-wound appeared on either."

Many's grief was of brief endurance: she roused the public in- dignation by her apathy and remissness in bringing the murderers to justice; and though BornwELL was loudly accused by the ge- neral voice, he continued in high favour, and enjoyed the most fa- miliar intercourse with her. " It did not escape attention," says

Mr. TYTLER, " that scarce two weeks after her husband's death, while in the country and in the city all were shocked at the late occurrences, and felt them as a stain upon their national character, the Court at Seton was occupied in gay amusements. Mary and Bothwell would shoot at the butts against Iluntly and Seton; and on one occasion, after winning the match, they forced these Lords to pay the forfeit in the shape of dinner at Tranent!" Con- duct so shameless was sufficient to warrant the blackest suspicions. BoniwEr.r,, meanwhile, appeared in the streets of Edinburgh sur- rounded by guards and sometimes accompanied by the Queen ; whilst his fierce deportment and looks were calculated to intimidate the people and to suppress inquiry. And when at length his trial could no longer be evaded, it was so conducted as to be a mere farce—an impudent mockery of justice. It was at a subsequent period, when Maar had flillen frcm her high estate aml BoTnwEr,r, was an outlawed exile, that the inferior actors in the bloody deed met their just reward.

liontwELL's acquittal was reprobated by the people, whose in- dignation WM heightened by rumours of to, intended divorce be- tween BoTtiwm,r, and his wife. Even in the public streets and in the Queen's presence the popular feeling was loudly expressed ; and the market-women, as she passed, would cry out, " God pre- serve your Grace, if you are sackless of the King's death!" Un- restrained, however, by any consideration of decency, undeterred by fear of consequences, MARY gave a loose to her infatuated and guilty passion for her husband's murderer. BOTHWELL obtained a divorce: the Queen, riding in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, was carried by him, with pretended violence but evident collusion, to his house at Dunbar : after living with him there for some time, they publicly entered Edinburgh together, with a cavalcade of guards and attendants; and a few days afterwards the Queen mar- ried BoTHwEim in Holyrood, three months after the bloody death of her husband DARNLEY. The conduct of CRAIG, the celebrated colleague of KNON, on this occasion, is a sublime specimen of the dauntless courage of the Scottish Reformed priesthood of that period- " The Church wI1S ordered to proclaim the banns of the Queen's marriage. This they peremptorily refused. Craig, one of the ministers, Knox being now absent, alleged as his excuse, that Mary bad sent no written command ; and stated the common report that she had been ravished and was kept captive by Bothwell. Upon this the Justice Clerk brought Lim a letter signed by the Queen herself, asserting the falsehood of such a story, and requiring his obe- dience. He still resisted ; demanded to be confronted with the parties; and in presence of the Privy Council, where Bothwell sat, this undaunted minister Laid to his charge the dreadful crimes of which he was suspected—rape, adul- tery, and murder. To the accusation no satisfactory answer was returned; hut Craig, having exonerated his conscience, did not deem himself entitled to dis- obey the express command of his Sovereign. lie therefore proclaimed the banns in the High Church ; but from the pulpit, and in presence of the congregation, added these appalling words—' I take heaven and earth to witness that I abhor and detest this marriage, as odious and slanderous to the world; and I would exhort the faithful to pray earnestly that a union against all reason and good conscience may yet be overruled. by God, to the comfort of this unhappy realm.' This solemn warning, with the deep and general detestation of Bothwell, appeared to produce so little effect upon the Queen, Celt the people considered the whole events as strange and supernatural ; the report revived of this aban- doned man having employed witchcraft, (no uncommon resource in that age,) and it was currently asserted that the marriage-day had been fixed by sor- cerers."

We cannot follow further the history of this most unhappy prin- cess. No positive evidence exists of her participation in the murder of her husband; for the only direct evidence to that effect which has ever been brought forward—the celebrated letters and sonnets said to have been addressed by BOTHWELL to the Queen, and found in her possession—is by no means conclusive. " Of these letters and sonnets," says Mr. TYTLER, " the originals have long since disap- peared ; and the garbled state oh' the copies which now exist, and which appear to have been tampered with, renders their evidence of a suspicious nature." But, setting aside this doubtful evidence, we feel it almost impossible to reconcile the known facts of the case to the supposition of MARY'S innocence. Of BornwErm's guilt no doubt has ever been entertained ; and Mr. TYTLER'S nar- rative has rendered it, if possible, even more unquestionable than ever. BornwErm's object was ambition—the desire of rising, by his union with the Queen, to royal dignity and power. Motives as strong, wishes as ungovernable, were evidently at work in the mind of MAllv. Her passion for DARNLEY had been exchanged for bitter resentment, and the intense hatred of " a woman scorned "; and the void in her heart was immediately filled by another passion, more violent and infatuated than the first, which made her trample

on every consideration of decency, and rendered her an object of general censure and suspicion. If Birritwato. sought their aim

from motives of ambition, MARY desired the same consunmiation

from a motive still stronger—from the impulse of that passion, mis- named love, which, in its frenzied excesses, has ever led to the most frightful crimes. In INIAny's case the motive was even stronger than in that of BornwErm ; and was she more likely than he to turn a deaf ear to the whispering dannon oh' temptation ? During her whole miserable career she was " passion's slave," without a vestige of that firmness of will and streiTth of principle by which she might have resisted its dominion Be it remembered, too, that she knew that the bloody deed was in contemplation, not

only without taking nioaSurCS for its prevention, but without diminu- tion of thvour to the chief of its contrivers. Add to this her conduct

after its perpetration—her protection of the murderers in defiance of public feeling, the uninterrupted Continuance of her scandalous intercourse with Parrnwer.r., and the precipitate eagerness with which she availed herself of the removal of the obstacle which her

husband's life had presented to a union with her paramour—and we have a chain of prcs;imptionS Which almost amount to moral de-

monstration of her guilt. But whatever may have been the extent of her follies or her crimes, when we look at the long years she afterwards dragged out in hopeless wretchedness, it insist be ac- knowledged that schlmn has folly or crime been 50 heavily expiated.

The new lights thrown by Alia Trivia:a upon MARY'S treatment by her loving " sitter of England, are fitr fram lessenitig tile stain winch Emzaaliern's conduct towards her unhappy rival has fixed OH her memory. It was IMirked by cunning, duplicity, and unre- lenting cruelty, prompted by 0 strange mixture or iiiromite per- sonal hatred, considerations of state policy. and dread of Popish ascendancy. It may lie doubted whether EiazARETICS hostility to Malty was more keenly stimulated by bier apprehensions t'or the safety of the Reformed Church, bier fears of a competitor t'or the English crown, or her envy and jealousy of the youthtbl princess, who danced so gracetlilly, played so exquisitely on the virginals, and conquered every heart by her charms and her accomplishments. It has been recorded by preceding historians, that Earzamern, after getting .11 Alta into her power, at tirst entertained thoughts of bringing her to public trial and execution in England ; and that, abandoning this idea, she nfierwards proposed to the Earl of m AU, the Scottish Regent, that Matta should be cenveyvd to Scotland, tiled, and execute.' diem Such is the statement oh' Dr. RonEursox ; who adds, that AI Alt, from his honourable feelings, instantly rejected' the proposal. But ROBERTSON was unacquainted with the truth, which has now been brought, to light by Mr. TYTLER. If ELIZABETH abandoned all thoughts of bringing her unhappy captive to a public trial and execution in England, it was only to embrace a deeper and darker expedient, that of having MART conveyed to Scotland, and privately executed—or rather mur- dered—without trial or process of any kind, the moment she passed the Border. HENRY KILLIGREW, a confidential agent of ELIZABETH, was sent by her to Scotland to negotiate with the Regent for the accomplishment of this flagitious project ; and, after a series of intrigues and manceuvres, the plot was agreed on, and would have been carried into effixt had it not been for the sudden death of the Regent. The correspondence, cited by Mr. TYTLEB, between KILLICHIEW and 13uRouLEY, ELIZABETH'S celebrated Minister, leaves no doubt whatever on this subject ; and there is something exceedingly striking in the cool, business-like formality, with which those grave diplomatists discuss so atrocious a scheme.

The latter part of Mr. TYTLER'S volume is occupied with the cruel wars which ravaged Scotland during the Regencies of LENNOX, MAR, and MORTON, till the captive Queen's adherents were destroyed and her party became extinct. The miserable state to which Scotland was reduced during those days of civil strife, is eloquently painted by our historian- " For many miserable months Scotland presented a sight which might bare drawn pity front the hardest heart : her sons engaged in a furious and constant butchery of each oilier; every peaceful or useful art entirely at a stand ; her agriculture, her commerce, and manufactures neglected ; nothing heard from one end of the country to the other but the clangour of arms and the roar of artillery; nothing seen but villages in flames, towns beleagaerol iy armed men, women and children flying from the cottages where their fathers or husbands had been massacred, and even the pulpit and the altar surrounded by a steel- clad congregation, who listened tremblingly with their hands upon their

weapons. Into all the separate facts which

would support this dreadful picture I must not enter, nur would I willingly conduct my reader through the shambles of a civil war. Prisoners were tortured or massacred in cold blood, or hung by forties and fifties at a time. Countrymen driving their carts, or attempting to sell their stores in the city, were hanged, or branded with a hot iron. Women coming to market were seized and scourged ; and as the punishment diii not prevent repetition of the offeneo, one delinquent who ventured to retail her country produce was barbaronsly hanged in her own village near the city. These are homely details, but they point to much intensity of national misery, and made so deep an impression, that the period. taking its name from Morton, was long after remembered as the days of the ' Douglas wars.' "

In respect to the merits of Mr. TIMER'S work as a literary production, it is unnecessary at this time of day to add a single word. Another volume, it is announced, will bring it to a close ; and it will then be, and will probably long remain, the great and standard History of Scotland.