The number of
zealous papists, they who were in favor of the rack and the stake, was
not more than a thirtieth part of the nation. The other twenty-nine
parts, though perhaps nearly equally divided on the question of
religion, condemned alike the bigotry of their melancholy sovereign and
looked on with sorrowful indignation while the bloody Mary, assisted
by a few narrow-minded bigots, was carrying on the infernal work of
persecution. It was a sorrow and a shame to all true Englishmen, whether
Catholic or Protestant; and the hated Philip felt the effects of their
vengeance till the day of his death.
In these times of tribulation there was one who shared in the common
danger, suffering, and humiliation, and who, from the exalted rank
which she occupied, and the station to which she seemed destined, was
peculiarly an object of distrust and alarm to the bigots, who were
exulting in their day of power. The gloom which overhung the whole
country equally surrounded her; the fires of Smithfield and Oxford were
kindled for her terror as for the terror of the people. She had been
made to pass through that sorrowful passage from which few ever returned
alive, the Traitor's Gate in the Tower of London.
Her course was one and the same with that of the entire English nation;
and the only light which shone upon the darkness, the only hope that
cheered the universal despondency, the dependence of all real patriots,
the trust of all friends of truth, and the pride of all free and
honorable men were centred in the prison of Elizabeth.
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