The health of the king was manifestly failing, and his death would be their destruction; for zealous protestants such as they, had nothing to hope from a Roman Catholic sovereign. The order of succession then, as limited by Henry VIII., must be changed. This was a bold measure, but it might be successful; Mary and Elizabeth had both been declared illegitimate by act of parliament, at Henry’s own suggestion; it was but to procure a confirmation of this, and Lady Jane Grey stood next to the throne.
To cement the union between these ambitious nobles, a marriage was arranged between the Lady Jane and Lord Guilford Dudley, son of the Duke of Northumberland. There was short time for courtship, and the practice of those acts of gallantry which the fashion of the day required. No sweet madrigal softened the way to the lady’s heart; nor had the appointed bridegroom much time for the display, on his breast or in his hat, of the little gold-embroidered and edged handkerchief, with the tassels at each corner and in the middle, which enamored damsels were wont to present to their favorites. The marriage followed close upon the agreement; the king, to show the pleasure which it gave him, was bountiful in his gifts. But even in this his natural love of economy was gratified; for the forfeiture of the effects of the duke and duchess of Somerset had placed at his disposal much rich apparel, not much the worse for wear, which he now bestowed on the bridal party.
Though the match was one of ambition on the part of the parents, it was well calculated to secure the happiness of the parties, for the Lord Guilford Dudley would seem to have possessed every quality fitted to win a lady’s heart, and to keep it. Besides the approval of the king, it met with that of the court and of the public, who, as the bridal procession passed along, were loud in testifying their admiration of the beauty and innocence of the youthful bridegroom and his lovely bride.
The pomp and splendor which attended these nuptials, formed the last beam of joy that shone in the palace of Edward, who grew so weak a few days afterwards, that Northumberland thought it time to carry his project into execution. How he effected his purpose cannot be better stated than in the language of Fuller. “King Edward, tender in years and weak with sickness, was so practised upon by the importunity of others, that, excluding his two sisters, he conveyed the crown to the Ladie Jane, his kinswoman, by that which we may well call the testament of King Edward, and the will of the Duke of Northumberland. Thus, through the pious intents of this prince, wishing well to the Reformation; the religion of Mary obnoxious to exception; the ambition of Northumberland, who would do what he listed; the simplicity of Suffolk, who would be done with as the other pleased; the dutifulness of the Lady Jane, disposed by her parents; the fearfulness of the judges, not daring to oppose; and the flattery of courtiers most willing to comply, matters were made as sure, as man’s policy can make that good which is bad in itself.”
(To be continued.)
The Bamboo.—This is an eastern production, of various and most important uses. It grows from fifteen to sixty feet high, being from five to fifteen inches in diameter. It grows as much as twenty feet in a few weeks. It flourishes wild in many places, but it is cultivated with great care in China and other places. The soft shoots are cut and eaten like asparagus, and sometimes salted and eaten with rice. The hollow joints afford a liquid, and if not drawn off, a concrete, medical substance. Its seeds are eaten as a delicacy; its large joints are used as buckets; and, in many countries, no other wood is used for building. Ships are framed out of it, and it furnishes masts and yards. Its leaves make fans. It is also used to make bows, and to convey water to a distance. It also forms writing-pens, and is woven into baskets, cages, hats, &c. Bruised into a pulp, it makes fine paper, and is also used for many kinds of furniture.
Practical Advantage of Science.—The following illustration of the utility of science, in the common occurrences of life, is from the Genessee Farmer:—“A penknife was by accident dropped into a well twenty feet deep. A sunbeam, from a mirror, was directed to the bottom, which rendered the knife visible, and a magnet, fastened to a pole, brought it up again.”