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ber of the palace of Whitehall. Being delayed here in consequence of the scaffold not being ready, he offered up several prayers, and entered into religious discourse with the bishop. About twelve he ate some bread and drank a glass of claret, declining to dine after he had received the sacrament.

In a few minutes Hacker came and knocked at the door of the chamber where the king was, with Tomlinson, the bishop, Herbert, and some of his guards. Herbert and the bishop were deeply affected at this signal for their final separation from their sovereign and master. The king stretched out his hand to them, which they kissed, falling on their knees and weeping, the king helping the revered bishop to rise. He then bade Hacker to open the door, and he would follow; and he was conducted by Hacker, Tomlinson, and other officers and soldiers, through the banqueting-house by a passage broken through the wall, where the centre window now is. A strong guard of several regiments of horse and foot being posted about the scaffold, so that the people could not approach near enough to hear any discourse from the king, he addressed his last sentences chiefly to the bishop, Colonel Tomlinson, and other officers who stood near him. Then to Colonel Hacker he said, “ Take care that they do not put me to pain; and, sir, this and it please you" But a gentleman coming near the axe, the king said, Take heed of the axe, pray take heed of the axe." Then speaking unto the executioner, he said, " I shall but very short prayers, and when I thrust out my hands" Then turning to the bishop, he said, “ I have a good cause and a gracious God on my side.”

The bishop replied, " There is but one stage more; this stage is turbulent and troublesome,- it is a short one ; but you may consider it will soon carry you a very great way. It will carry you from earth to heaven ; and there you will find a great deal of cordial joy and comfort.”


"I go," said the king, "from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no disturbance can be, no disturbance in the world.”

“You are exchanged,” replied the bishop," from a temporary to an eternal crown—a good exchange."

Then the king said to the executioner, “ Is my hair well ?” and took off his cloak and his George, giving his George to the bishop, saying, “ Remember.” Then he put off his doublet, and being in his waistcoat, he put on his cloak again; then looking upon the block, he said to the executioner, “ You must set it fast. When I put out my hands this way (stretching them out) then” After that, having said two or three words to himself, as he stood with his hands and eyes lift up, immediately stooping down he laid his neck upon the block. And then the executioner, again putting his hair under his cap, the king thinking he was going to strike said, “ Stay for the sign.”

After a little pause, the king stretching forth his hands, the executioner at one blow severed his head from his body, and held it up and shewed it to the people, saying, “ Behold the head of a traitor!" At the instant when the blow was given, a dismal universal groan was uttered by the people (as if by one consent) such as was never before heard ; and as soon as the execution was over, one troop of horse marched rapidly from Charing-cross to King-street, and another from King-street to Charingcross, to disperse and scatter the multitude. “ When the body was put into a coffin at Whitehall,” says Rushworth, " there were many sighs and weeping eyes at the scene; and divers strove to dip their handkerchiefs in the king's blood. A general gloom and consternation pervaded London on the day of this atrocious perpetration ; many of the chief inhabitants either shut themselves up in their houses, or absented themselves from the city."

THE PRIZE. NAOMI STEVENS was one of the youngest of a large family. Her father and mother were honest, industrious people, and by means of constant striving and economy, they had brought up their elder children respectably. All of them were strong and healthy, nor was real illness known in the family till the little Naomi began to pine and grow weak; at length she was observed to go lame, and a small swelling in the hip-joint was discovered. The wisest plan in such a case would have been to consult some real doctor; but Naomi's parents preferred taking her to a man near, who had great fame in the neighbourhood for his treatment of bruises, burns, and the like, and who always boasted that he knew more than all the regular doctors put together, having taught himself every thing he knew of surgery, and so having found out several wonderful cures that they knew nothing about. It was very far from sensible in John and Mary Stevens to be deceived by such talk. They had a kind of feeling, while they went to him, that it was not a right thing to do; but,” as they said to one another, “ it matters little where one goes, if one can but get good.” He sold them some expensive ointment, to rub on the part, and, when that produced no good effects, made them buy some of another kind, which was sure to make a cure; and so it went on for some time, till they could afford no more money, and poor little Naomi had a sad wound on her hip, which wore away all her strength, and made her so completely lame that she could not set her foot on the ground. This was sad discouragement both to the child and her parents. The neighbours used to come in and shake their heads when they looked on the little sufferer's pale thin cheeks and wasted limbs, as she lay on her uneasy couch, a simple contrivance of two chairs set together, with a pillow for her aching head.

Ah, mistress," one would say, you will never rear her; I can almost see death in her face now."

“ Nay, surely; do not say so,” answered the startled mother; “ I can't think her so bad as that: it is only that she is tired just now, poor thing.”

“ Why, if she lives,” returned the other, “she will be but a burden to you and to herself too; it is hard enough to work one's way with health and strength. How is a poor cripple, as she will always be, to get a living ?".

The mother sighed at this prospect, but only said, “ Well, we must hope for the best.”

Naomi had lain with her eyes closed while this conversation passed. They thought she was not attending, or was too young to understand what was said, and nothing in the expression of her countenance led them to think otherwise. Indeed, for the first few minutes she heard the words without giving any meaning to them, but as she lay thinking, every thing came full upon her mind; that she was likely to die, and that if she lived she must be a burden to her mother. These were sad and bitter feelings for a child; instantly every thing around her seemed more dark, and dull, and dreary than before. She did not shew her mother what she felt; and she was so often silent from bodily pain, that Mary Stevens did not notice any thing particular about her. That night, and for many a long night after, she lay crying for hours, wetting her pillow with tears, and feeling every present pang more acutely, from the prospect of what was coming upon her. Even the society of her brothers and sisters could not give her the pleasure it once did. She almost envied them the power of being useful, though this was a feeling she did not allow herself to dwell on; and their cheerful merry faces, as they stood round her, telling what had happened to each of them, only roused and pleased her for a time. When she was left alone she could not help thinking how different they all were to her; that they were helping her father and mother, or in the way to do so, while she was a burden. What a sad word that seemed to her! In the mean while her father, as a last hope, took her to a medical gentleman who had a high reputation for skill, and also for his kindness in using it for the poor. John Stevens felt a little ashamed of asking for his help on such terms, when he considered how much he had paid to tlie ignorant man who had done such mischief to his child, but he was obliged to confess all to Mr. Neele, who would not prescribe till he knew what had been done; and the shame of having to do so was a sort of punishment. Mr. Neele soon found that it was impossible at present to hope for a cure; all that could be done was to relieve the pain as much as possible, and endeavour to strengthen her. This he succeeded in doing, and soon it was thought she could walk a little with crutches. A pair was therefore got for her; at first she found them sad awkward things; she doubted if she could ever use them; and, besides, felt ashamed to be seen by her companions limping along in such a strange fashion. She enjoyed, however, being once more in the open air; and when she got a little more expert in the use of her crutches, she overcame her reluctance to be seen with them, and went hopping along, carried by their long strides to some distance from her father's house. She was now more than eight years old, and her mother began to think of her neglected schooling, and that something might be done, since she could get about once more, to make up for lost time. It happened that the National-school was not far off; and though the child felt shy at going amongst so many strangers, her mother determined on taking her there, as she heard from her neighbours such good accounts of the children who went to it. The first Monday morning of Naomi's going to the National-school was a formidable time to her. As her crutches sounded along the floor when she was being led by the governess to the lowest class at the end of the room, she

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