and thus did away with the virtual subjugation of England to the latter power, which was threatened by the marriage of Mary of Scotland, the heir nearest in blood to the English crown, with the Dauphin of France. But even this advantage was more apparent than real, as was proved by the subsequent policy of Elizabeth, which proceeded on the assumption that the mere instinct of self-preservation would compel Spain to continue in alliance with England in order to check the growth of the power of France. In the meanwhile the disadvantages were evident enough. The power of England in Europe at the accession of Mary was a mere shadow of what it once had been; while Spain was, at the moment, the most powerful nation in the world. Hence it was clear that if the two were to become one, Spain, and not England, would be that one. Treaties and paper arrangements would be useless, and should the issue of Mary's marriage with Philip be an only son, there would plainly be noticing but the uncertain life of Don Carlos between him and the combined crowns of Spain and the Indies, England and the Low Countries, and England would become a mere permanent appendage to Spain. But, besides these prospective evils, hateful to all Englishmen, Catholic and Protestant alike, there was also the more immediate certainty that all Philip's influence would be thrown into the scale in favour of the Queen's known desire for an immediate and unreserved reconciliation with the see of Rome. To the thorough-going Protestants this meant not loss or inconvenience, but actual persecution; and the religious persecution of the sixteenth century wore no kid gloves. To the forty thousand families who had profited by the spoliation of the monasteries it meant loss, impoverishment, in many cases ruin; to the mass of the nation, even to those
