maining part of their project. The king, the queen, and prince Henry, the king's eldest son, were all expected to be present at the opening of parliament. The king's second son, by reason of his tender age, would be absent, and it was resolved that Percy should seize or assassinate him. The princess Elizabeth, a child likewise, was kept at lord Harrington's house, in Warwickshire; and sir Edward Digby was to seize her, and immediately proclaim her queen.

4. The day for the sitting of parliament now approached. Never was treason more secret, or ruin more apparently inevitable; the hour was expected with impatience, and the conspirators gloried in their meditated guilt. The dreadful secret, though communicated to above twenty persons, had been religiously kept during the space of nearly a year and a half; but when all the motives of pity, justice, and safety, were too weak to induce a disclosure, a remorse of private friendship saved the kingdom. Sir Henry Percy, one of the conspirators, conceived a design of saving the life of lord Mounteagle, his intimate friend and companion, who was also a decided catholic. Accordingly about ten days before the meeting of parliament, this nobleman, without himself knowing the writer, received the following letter

5. "My lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care of your preservation. Therefore I would advise you, as you value your life, to devise some excuse to shift off your attendance in this parliament. For God and man have concurred to punish the wickedness of the times. And think not lightly of this advertisement; but retire yourself into the country, where you may expect the event in safety. For, though there be no appearance of any stir, yet, I say they will receive a terrible blow this parliament, and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no hurt-for the danger is past, as soon as you have burnt this letter. And I hope God will give you grace to make a good use of it, unto whose holy protection I commend you."

6. The contents of this mysterious letter surprised and puzzled the nobleman to whom it was addressed; and though inclined to think a foolish attempt to affright and ridicule him, yet he judged it safest to carry it to lord Salisbury, secretary of state. Lord Salisbury too was inclined to give little attention to it, yet thought to lay it before the king in council, who came to town a few days after. None of the council were able to make any thing of it, although it appeared rather serious and alarming. In this universal agitation, between doubt and apprehension, the king was the first who penetrated the meaning of this dark epistle. He concluded that some sudden danger was preparing with gun-powder; and it was thought advisable to inspect all the vaults below the houses of parliament. This care belonged to the earl of Suffolk, lord chamberlain, who purposely delayed the search till the day before the meeting of parliament.

7. He now discovered and seized Guy Fawkes, actually engaged in the terrible enterprise, having just disposed every part of the train for its taking fire next morning, the matches and other combustibles being found in his pockets. The whole of the design was now discovered; but the atrociousness of his guilt, and the despair of pardon, inspiring him with resolution, he told the officers of justice, with an undaunted air, that had he blown them and himself up together, he had been happy. Before the council, he displayed the same intrepid firmness, mixed even with scorn and disdain, refusing to discover his associates, and shewing no concern but for the failure of his enterprise. But his bold spirit was at length subdued; being confined to the Tower for two or three days, and the rack just shewn him, his courage, fatigued with so long an effort, at last failed him, and he made a full discovery of all his accomplices.

8. Catesby, Percy, and the conspirators who were in London, hearing that Fawkes was arrested, fled with all speed to Warwickshire, where sir Edward Digby, relying on the success of the plot, was already in arms. But the country soon began to take the alarm, and

wherever they turned, they found a superior force ready to oppose them. In this exigence, beset on all sides, they resolved, to about the number of eighty persons, to fly no further, but made a stand at a house in Warwickshire, to defend it to the last, and sell their lives as dearly as possible.

9. But even this miserable consolation was denied them; a spark of fire happening to fall among some gun-powder that was laid to dry, it blew up, and so maimed the principal conspirators, that the survivors resolved to open the gate, and sally out against the multitude that surrounded the house. Some were instantly cut to pieces. Catesby, Percy, and Winter, standing back to back, fought long and desperately, till in the end the two first felt covered with wounds, and Winter was taken alive. Those that survived the slaughter were tried and convicted; several fell by the hands of the executioner, and others experienced the king's mercy. The Jesuits, Garnet and Oldcorn, who were privy to the plot, suffered with the rest; and notwithstanding the atrociousness of their treason, Garnet was considered by his party as a martyr, and miracles were said to have been wrought by his blood.

1. On what account did the Catholics expect the favour and indulgence of James I.?-2. Were their expectations realized? -3. What measure of revenge did they attempt?-4. How was the plan formed to destroy the king and parliament?-5. How was the gun-powder treason discovered?-6. Which one of the conspirators was seen and seized in preparing the train of powder?-7. What induced him to reveal the names of his accomplices?

DISAPPOINTED AMBITION.

1. In full blown dignity, see Wolsey stand,
Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand;
To him the church, the realm, their powers consign,
Through him the rays of regal bounty shine;
Turn'd by his nod the stream of honour flows,

His smile alone security bestows

Still to new heights his restless wishes tow'r;
Claim leads to claim, and pow'r advances pow'r;
Till conquest unresisted ceas'd to please,
And rights submitted, left him none to seize.

2. At length his sov'reign frowns, the train of state
Mark the keen glance, and watch the sign to hate;
Where'er he turns, he meets a stranger's eye,
His supplíants scorn him, and his followers fly;
Now drops at once the pride of awful state,
The golden canopy, the glittering plate,
The regal palace, the luxurious board,
The liv'ried army, and the menial lord.
With age, with cares, with maladies oppress'd,
He seeks the refuge of monastic rest.

3. Grief aids disease, remember'd folly stings,
And his last sighs reproach the faith of kings;
Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace repine,
Shall Wolsey's wealth, with Wolsey's end, be thine?
Or liv'st thou now, with safer pride content,
The wisest justice on the banks of Trent?
For why did Wolsey, near the steeps of fate,
On weak foundations raise th' enormous weight?
Why, but to sink beneath misfortune's blow,
With louder ruin to the gulfs below?

What gave great Villiers to th' assassin's knife,
And fix'd disease on Harley's closing life?
What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd Hyde,
By kings protected, and to kings ally'd?
What, but their wish indulg'd, in courts to shine,
And pow'r too great to keep or to resign?

THE AGED PRISONER.

1. UPON the accession of Louis sixteenth to the throne, the ministers then in office, moved by humanity, began their administration with an act of clemency and justice. They inspected the registers of the Bastile, and set

many prisoners at liberty. Among them, was an old man who had groaned in confinement for forty-seven years, between four thick and cold stone-walls. Hardened by adversity, which strengthens both the mind and constitution, when they are not overpowered by it, he had resisted the horrors of his long imprisonment with an invincible and manly spirit.

2. His locks, white, thin, and scattered, had almost acquired the rigidity of iron; whilst his body, environed for so long a time by a coffin of stone, had borrowed from it a firm and compact habit. The narrow door of his tomb, turning upon its grating hinges, opened not as usual by halves, and an unknown voice announced his liberty, and bade him depart. Believing this to be a dream, he hesitated; but at length rose up and walked forth with trembling steps, amazed at the space he traversed. The stairs of the prison, the halls, the court, seemed to him vast, immense, and almost without bounds.

3. He stopped from time to time, and gazed around like a bewildered traveller. His vision was with difficulty reconciled to the clear light of day. He contemplated the heavens as a new object. His eyes remained fixed, and he could not even weep. Stupified with the newly acquired power of changing his position, his limbs, like his tongue, refused, in spite of his efforts, to perform their office. At length he got through the formidable gate.

4. When he felt the motion of the carriage, which was prepared to transport him to his former habitation, he screamed out, and uttered some inarticulate sounds; and as he could not bear this new movement, he was obliged to descend. Supported by a benevolent arm, he sought out the street where he had formerly resided; he found it, but no trace of his house remained; one of the public edifices occupied the spot where it had stood.

5. He saw nothing which brought to his recollection, either that particular quarter, the city itself, or the objects with which he was formerly acquainted. The houses of his nearest neighbours, which were fresh in