at now she could not properly renounce it, whatever its
validity might be, till she could have opportunity to return to
Scotland and consult with her government there, since it affected not
her personally alone, but the public interests of Scotland. "And
now," she continued, in substance, "I am sorry that I asked such a
favor of her. I have no need to ask it, for I am sure I have a right
to return from France to my own country without asking permission of
any one. You have often told me that the queen wished to be on
friendly terms with me, and that it was your opinion that to be
friends would be best for us both. But now I see that she is not of
your mind, but is disposed to treat me in an unkind and unfriendly
manner, while she knows that I am her equal in rank, though I do not
pretend to be her equal in abilities and experience. Well she may do
as she pleases. If my preparations were not so far advanced, perhaps
I should give up the voyage. But I am resolved to go. I hope the
winds will prove favorable, and carry me away from her shores. If
they carry me upon them, and I fall into her hands, she may make what
disposal of me she will. If I lose my life, I shall esteem it no
great loss, for it is now little else than a burden."

How strongly this speech expresses "that mixture of melancholy and
dignity, of womanly softness and noble decision, which pervaded her
character." There is a sort of gentleness even in her anger, and a
certain indescribable womanly charm in the workings of her mind,
which cause all who read her story, while they can not but think that
Elizabeth was right, to sympathize wholly with Mary.

Throckmorton, at one of his conversations with Mary, took occasion to
ask her respecting her religious views, as Elizabeth wished to know
how far she was fixed and committed in her attachment to the Catholic
faith. Mary said that she was born and had been brought up a
Catholic, and that she should remain so as long as she lived. She
would not interfere, she said, with her subjects adopting such form
of religion as they might prefer, but for herself she should not
change. If she should change, she said, she should justly lose the
confidence of her people; for, if they saw that she was light and
fickle on that subject, they could not rely upon her in respect to
any other. She did not profess to be able to argue, herself, the
questions of difference, but she was not wholly uninformed in respect
to them, as she h