fever and ague, was made to rise from bed, removed to Westminster, and, after some formalities, placed in the Gatehouse to await his doom.

It was now the 28th of October, and Raleigh requested that he might be allowed a short time to settle his affairs. The answer was that his execution would take place in the Old Palace Yard at nine o'clock next morning, and he prepared to meet his fate with the calm courage of a man who feared not death. That evening he had a last long interview with his wife; and, as she took leave of him at midnight, he spoke in a cheerful, even a jocular strain.

66 I may tell you," said the unfortunate woman, at parting, as her tears flowed fast," that they have granted me the privilege of disposing of your body."

"It is well, Bess," said Raleigh, with a smile; "it is well that you may dispose of that dead, which you had not always the disposing of when alive."

Raleigh was now left to the solitude of his prison, and to those reflections which occupy the mind of a man whose soul is about to go to judgment. Early in the morning, however, he was attended by the Dean of Westminster, who administered the sacrament. Raleigh received the consolations of religion with profound reverence, expressed his faith in the mediation of the Redeemer of mankind, and freely forgave all his enemies, even the kinsman by whom he had been betrayed.

Before being led to execution, Raleigh breakfasted heartily. After the meal, he smoked his pipe, as was his wont, and drank a cup of sack with evident relish.

"Does the sack please you?" inquired the jailer.

"Ay," answered Raleigh, "'tis a good drink, if a man might tarry by it."

"It is sad to die in such a way," some one remarked.

"I would rather thus end my days," replied Raleigh, "than by a burning fever; and I thank God, who hath imparted to me strength of mind never to fear death."

Raleigh now employed himself in changing his dress. He laid aside his usual attire, donned a plain mourning suit of black satin, and threw over all a black velvet night-gown. A little before nine o'clock he declared that he was ready, and then, attended by the Sheriffs of London and the Dean of Westminster, he walked forth to enact the last scene of his remarkable life.

The scaffold was erected in Old Palace Yard, and thither lords, ladies, courtiers, and persons of every degree had crowded to witness the execution. Indeed, the press was so great, that ere reaching the scaffold Raleigh swooned away. On arriving at the steps, however, he recovered; and mounting with apparent ease, he saluted Lord Arundel and other friends in the crowd with his usual courtliness of manner. Though enfeebled with sickness, his appearance was still noble and impressive; and, silence having been obtained, he addressed the assemblage in a masterly speech, which proved that his intellect was vigorous as in earlier days.

"The morning is cold, Sir Walter," said the Sheriff; "would it not be well for you to come down and warm yourself before saying your prayers?"

"No, good Mr. Sheriff," answered Raleigh, "let us despatch; for, within this quarter of an hour, my ague

will come upon me; and if I be not dead before that, enemies will see I quake for fear, now I am going to God."

my

"In what faith do you die?" asked the Dean of Westminster.

"In the faith professed by the Church of England," answered Raleigh; "hoping to have my sins washed away and to be saved by the merits and precious blood of our Saviour."

The scaffold was then cleared: and Raleigh kneeling down, prayed fervently. Rising, he threw off his gown and doublet; and turned to the executioner.

"Show me the axe," he said; and seeing that this was not immediately done, he exclaimed, "I pray thee let me see it. Dost thou think I am afraid of it? "Tis a sharp medicine," he added to the sheriff, as he took it in his hand and ran his finger along the edge, "but a sound cure for all diseases."

"I ask your forgiveness," said the executioner kneeling.

"Be satisfied," said Raleigh with a smile, laying his hand on the man's shoulder. "I most cheerfully forgive thee, only strike not till I give the signal; and then fear nothing, but strike home."

"Be pleased to place yourself so that your face shall look towards the east," suggested one of the officials, as Raleigh lay down on the block.

"Little matters it," answered he, "how the head lies, provided the heart is right."

After having occupied himself for a while with prayer, Raleigh gave the signal; and after some hesitation on the executioner's part, the axe fell. At two strokes the head was severed from the body; and the quantity

of blood that gushed out showed that, though Raleigh was in his sixty-sixth year, his constitution was still as vigorous as his intellect. After the head had, as usual on such occasions, been held up to the view of the crowd, it was put into a red bag, and, with the body, placed in a mourning coach to be conveyed to Lady Raleigh. The head was embalmed and preserved by the widowed lady with pious care, as a melancholy memorial of the husband whom she had loved so faithfully and so well.

L

THE EARL OF CUMBERLAND.

ONE day, when Queen Elizabeth was keeping her court at Whitehall, a remarkable personage of somewhat haughty air and eccentric aspect, with a strong, but agile and exquisitely handsome form, dark hair, black eyes, full cheeks, a proud expression of countenance, and a face that bore the marks of much exposure to wind and sun, was admitted to an audience, after having returned from a long voyage. During the ceremony, the Queen happened to drop her glove, and the eccentric-looking individual, whom she was evidently in a mood to honour, stepped forward, raised it, and presented it on his knee.

66

Nay, cousin," said the Queen, "keep the glove for our sake."

"If it so please your Majesty," replied he, rising with a grace, and speaking with a courtly ease which showed that he was not the first of his race who had figured at courts. "And I vow that it shall be richly adorned with diamonds, and worn in my hat on all state occasions."

The hero of this little scene was an object of curiosity, both on account of his own exploits and those of his ancestors. He bore a historic name, and could boast of achievements which history was