a few noblemen of the first rank and fortune, he kept a regular table, with a certain number of covers for gentlemen, and two others for persons of inferior condition. These, always open, were servved alike whether he was present or absent; and, in correspondence with this proud hospitality, he had around him many young persons of distinction, who acted as his retainers, and lived in his family. Promotion was not yet attainable by open competition; the house of a minister was the grand preparatory school; and Burleigh was under Elizabeth what cardinal Morton had been under Henry VII. Among the retainers of Burleigh, there could, we are told, be reckoned, at one time, twenty young gentlemen, each of whom possessed, or was likely to possess, an income of 1000l.; and among his household officers there were persons who had property to the amount of 10,000l.* His houses were not large, but his equipage and furniture were splendid; his plate is reported to have amounted to 14,000 pounds in weight, and about 40,000l. in value. His public entertainments corresponded with this magnifi

cence.

It was customary for Elizabeth to receive sumptuous entertainments from her principal nobility and ministers; and, on these instances of condescension, Burleigh omitted nothing which could show his sense of the honour conferred on him by his royal guest. Besides the short private visits which she often paid him, he entertained her in a formal manner twelve different times, with festivities which lasted several weeks, and on each occasion cost him two or three thousand pounds. His seat at Theobalds, during her stay, exhibited a succession of plays, sports, and splendid devices; and here she received foreign ambassadors, at the expense of her treasurer, in as royal state as at any of her palaces. This magnificence, doubtless, acquired him a considerable ascendancy both at court and among the people; but it was attended with much envy, and often brought him vexation. At his death, he left, besides his plate and furniture, 11,000l. in money, and 4000l. a year in lands, of which he had received only a small portion by inheritance.‡

We come next to the interesting topic of his conduct towards Elizabeth, and the deportment of her majesty in return. He was often heard to say, that he thought there never was a woman so wise in all respects as Elizabeth; that she knew the state of her own and foreign countries better than all her counsellors; that, in the most difficult deliberations, she would surprise the wisest by the

*Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 40. The writer of the treatise from which these particulars are taken was himself one of lord Burghley's retainers, and an eye-witness of all these circumstances.

† Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 37-41. These protracted visits of Elizabeth to her principal courtiers seem to have had in view economy as well as popularity. She had no objection to honour her subjects by her presence, and she accounted it fair that they should for this honour. pay Ibid. p. 44.

*

superiority of her expedients. His services, both before and after her elevation to the throne, were of the most important nature; for, besides his great qualities as a minister, his vigilance had repeatedly preserved her life, while his fidelity had endangered his own.

These services were sincerely felt by Elizabeth : with a magnanimity not always to be found among princes, she freely acknowledged her obligations, and demonstrated her gratitude by attentions which, from a sovereign, were the most flattering of rewards. Interesting herself in his domestic concerns, and entering into the joys and sorrows of his family, we find her at one time standing sponsor for one of his children, and at another hastening in person to enquire for his daughter in a sudden illness. In promoting the marriage of his son with a lady of rank and fortune, she also took an active part, and visited the lady in behalf of the suitor. Although extremely jealous of her real authority, Elizabeth had too much sense as well as policy to impede her service by unmeaning forms. When the treasurer, in the latter part of his life, was much afflicted with the gout, the queen always made him sit down in her presence with some obliging expression, "My lord," she would say, we make use of you, not for your bad legs, but for your good head." When the severity of his illness rendered him unable to quit his apartment, she repaired thither with her council to enjoy the benefit of his advice; and when his disease assumed a dangerous aspect, she appeared in person among the anxious enquirers for his health.†

Her majesty was, however, far from being always so accommodating; and it often required no small degree of patience to bear the effects of her violent passions and unreasonable caprice. The manners of that age were much less refined than those of the present; yet, even then, it appeared no ordinary breach of decorum in a queen to load her attendants with the coarsest epithets, or to vent her indignation in blows. The style of gallantry with which she encouraged her courtiers to approach her, both cherished this overbearing temper, and made her excesses be received rather as the ill-humour of a mistress than the affronts of a sovereign. It was customary for her statesmen and warriors to pretend not only loyalty to her throne, but ardent attachment to her person; and in some of Raleigh's letters, we find her addressed, at the age of sixty, with all the enthusiastic raptures of a fond lover. To feign a dangerous distemper arising from the influence of her charms was deemed an effectual passport to her favour; and when she appeared displeased, the forlorn courtier took to his bed in a paroxysm of amorous despondency, and breathed out his

* Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 71.

Birch's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 294. 128. Lloyd's State Worthies.

Cayley's Life of Raleigh, p. 127. 134. 4to. edit.

tender melancholy in signs and protestations. We find Leicester, and some other ministers, endeavouring to introduce one Dyer to her favour; and the means which they employed was, to persuade her that a consumption, from which the young man had with difficulty recovered, was brought on by the despair with which she had inspired him.* Essex, having on one occasion fallen under her displeasure, became exceedingly ill, and could be restored to health only by her sending him some broth, with kind wishes for his recovery. Raleigh, hearing of these attentions to his political rival, got sick in his turn, and received no benefit from any medicine till the same sovereign remedy was applied. With courtiers who submitted to act the part of sensitive admirers, Elizabeth found herself under no restraint: she expected from them the most unlimited compliance, and if they proved refractory, she gave herself up to all the fury of passion, and loaded them with opprobrious epithets.

Burleigh, by uniformly approaching her with the dignified demeanour of a grave and reserved counsellor, was far less liable to such indignities. Yet even on him she sometimes vented her chagrin ; and, in moments of sudden violence, seemed to forget his age, his character, and his station. On one occasion, when, in opposition to her wish, he persisted in a resolution to quit the court a few days for the benefit of his health, she petulantly called him a froward old foolf; and when he ventured, as already has been mentioned, to maintain some claim of the earl of Essex, which she had determined to disallow, she wrathfully reproached him as a miscreant and a coward who deserted her cause. As he had generally to perform the disagreeable task of announcing to her any untoward accidents in the course of her affairs, he was exposed to the first ebullitions of her chagrin ; and so much, we are told, did the unprosperous event of her plans for the tranquillisation of Ireland, in 1594, irritate her mind, that she severely reproached her aged minister even while he laboured under sickness. But it was not only hasty bursts of passion that he had to dread: we have seen that, on particular occasions, she chose to execute her designs under a veil of consummate hypocrisy; and made no scruple to shield herself from public reproach by affecting resentment against her ministers for the very acts which had given her the highest gratification. Fortunately for Burleigh, she found means to satisfy appearances, without carrying her injustice to him beyond some temporary indignities.

These mortifications were aggravated by the obstinacy with which she occasionally opposed his

designs. While certain counsellors, from attractions of person and manner, acquired at times an undue influence over her, some of her passions and prejudices were too powerful to be counter acted by his cool and rational suggestions; and it is alleged that she more than once rejected his counsels, merely to prove to him that his ascen dancy over her was not absolute.

The even temper of Burleigh enabled him to suffer many of these disgusts with apparent calm ness; yet at times they exceeded his endurance. A very few years after the accession of Elizabeth, we find him already desiring to quit a station in which his toil and mortification were so great.* As he advanced in life, his increasing bodily infirmities, and some domestic misfortunes which affected him very deeply, made such causes of chagrin more poignant; and he frequently solicited the queen to accept of his resignation. But that princess, though too impetuous to refrain from giving offence, could not endure to be de prived of the zeal, industry, and wisdom on which she had so long relied with the most prosperous issue; and his resignation was a theme to which she could never be brought to listen. Laying aside the stateliness of the queen, she undertook to alter his purpose and dispel his chagrin, by assum ing the playfulness of the woman. Their still remain several of her letters, in which she so artfully mingles strokes of gratitude and attachment with raillery, that it is no wonder the old states man should have been moved by these indications of warm interest from his sovereign.†

The private life of Burleigh may be discussed in a short compass. Hurried along, from an early period of life, amidst affairs too complicated not to require his utmost industry, too important not to engage all his attention, he had very little leisure for domestic enjoyments. His hours of relaxation were few, seldom exceeding what was necessary for the refreshment of nature; and if he at any time indulged in a greater cessation from his public labours, it was chiefly when his bodily infirmities demanded such an intermission with a call not to be refused.

The principal scene of his amusements was his seat at Theobalds, near London, whither he fled with eagerness to enjoy the short intervals of leisure which he could snatch from public affairs. In these days the buildings had not extended so far; the house was surrounded with gardens, on which he had expended large sums of money, which were laid out under his own direction, with taste and magnificence. Here he was often seen riding up and down the walks on his mule, enjoying the progress of his improvements, or overlooking those who amused themselves by shooting with arrows or playing at bowls; but he never joined in these

*Letter in Hardwicke's Miscellaneous State Papers, vol. i. 170. p.

f Strype's Annals, vol. iv. p. 77.

or any other diversions. The weakness of his constitution, and more especially the distempers of his feet and legs, disqualified him for active sports, even if he had been led to them by inclination but his mind seems to have been so thoroughly engrossed by important business, that he had as little relish as leisure for amusements; nor did he play at any of those games with which the less busy endeavour to relieve the languor of exist

ence.

His principal and favourite recreation was reading. Books were to him what cards are to a great portion of the world-his frequent and most valued resource, They frequently interfered with the exercise necessary to his health; for when he got home to take a morning's ride, if he found a book which pleased him, he willingly postponed his excursion. Nor was he insensible to the pleasures of domestic society and exhilarating conversation. At his table, in the company of a few select friends, or of his children and kinsmen, whom he always loved to see around him, he appeared to throw all his cares aside, and to yield himself up to unre. strained enjoyment. Whatever fatigue or anxiety, in the course of the day, his mind might have experienced from the pressure of public affairs, every uneasy circumstance seemed at these periods to be forgotten. His countenance was cheerful, his conversation lively; and those who saw him only in these short intervals of relaxation would have imagined that pleasure was the business of his life.

As the mildness of his demeanour towards all ranks, in the intercourse of public life, procured him many friends, the frankness and familiarity which he displayed in his private circle gave a relish to his society. His conversation often sparkled with wit and gaiety, and his observations were generally not less pleasant than shrewd. The topics discussed at his table were various; literary conversation was preferred, politics were always avoided. The magnificent style in which he lived, the number of his attendants, and the concourse of persons of distinction, seem, at first, adverse to the freedom of his social entertainments. But Burleigh was accustomed to live in a crowd; and few of his visitors were so exalted above him by rank that he could not with grace relax himself in their presence.

A share in conversation was the chief pleasure which he enjoyed at table; for he was distinguished for temperance in an age when that virtue was

*Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 61.

Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 63, 64. It is curious to hear the peevishness with which learning is often cried down, even by those who derive from it the principal pleasures of their life. Though Burleigh found nearly all his recreation in books, in a letter to the earl of Shrewsbury, he wishes that nobleman's son

all the good education that may be mete to teach him to fear God, love his natural father, and to know his friends, without any curiosity of human learning, which, without the fear of God, doth great hurt to all youth in this time and age."-Lodge vol. ii. p. 133.

Ibid. p. 62, 63.

not common. He ate sparingly, partook of few dishes, never drank above thrice at a meal, and very seldom of wine. Although the dinner hour in that age was not later than twelve or one o'clock, it was not uncommon with him to refrain from supper.* The gout, with which he was grievously tormented in the latter part of his life, probably contributed to render him more cau. tiously abstemious: if his temperance failed to ba nish this uneasy guest, he never at least encourag ed its stay by rich wines and strong spices.†

Nor was the private life of Burleigh destitute of nobler virtues. At a period when the poor had so few resources for their industry, and when many willing to work were reduced to want, a portion of his ample fortune was benevolently appropriated to their necessities. His certain and regular almıs amounted to 500l. a year, besides farther and large disbursements on extraordinary occasions. Part was employed, under proper superintendence, in affording relief to poor prisoners, or in releasing honest debtors; the rest was confided to the management of certain parishes for the use of their most destitute inhabitants. From the low state of husbandry at that period, and the very limited intercourse between nations, one bad sea son was sufficient to subject a kingdom to the miseries of famine; corn, in certain districts, was sold at the most exorbitant prices, and rendered as inaccessible to the poorer classes as if none had existed in the country. In such times of scarcity, then of frequent occurrence, and attended with consequences revolting to humanity, it was usual for Burleigh to buy up large quantities of corn, which he sold at low prices to the poor in the neighbourhood of his different seats; and by this well-judged assistance, relieved their necessities without relaxing their industry.‡

The mind of Burleigh appears to have been strongly tinctured with piety. Placed amidst dan gers which his utmost vigilance could not always avoid, and from which he often escaped by unex pected accidents, his views were naturally extended to that Power on whose will depended the duration of his life. His faith had been endeared to him by persecution; his piety was exalted by the sacrifice of his interest to religion. Regular in his attendance on public worship, and in the performance of his private devotions, he strove, both by example and influence, to inspire his family and connections with religious sentiments. During the greatest pressure of business, it was his custom, morning and evening, to attend prayers at the queen's chapel. When his increasing infirmities rendered him no longer able to go abroad, he caused a cushion to be laid by his bedside, and on his knees performed his devotions at the same regular hours. Unable at length to kneel, or to en dure the fatigue of reading, he caused the prayers

* Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 62, 63. Nuga Antiquæ, vol. ii. p. 82.

Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 38. 42.

to be read aloud to him as he lay on his bed. “I will trust," he said, "no man if he be not of sound religion; for he that is false to God can never be true to man."† The strictness of his morals was in correspondence with his piety, and both had a powerful effect in confirming his fortitude in times of peril. At the awful period when Philip was preparing his armada, and when the utter destruction of the English government was confidently expected abroad, and greatly dreaded at home, Burleigh was uniformly collected and resolute; and when the mighty preparations of the Spaniards were spoken of in his presence with apprehension, he replied with firmness, "They shall do no more than God will suffer them."

In his intercourse with his family and dependants, this grave statesman was kind and condescending. In his leisure moments he delighted in sporting with his children,forbearing, however, such indications of intemperate fondness as might have rendered them regardless of his authority, and ready to give the rein to their caprices. In his old age no scene so much delighted him as to have his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, collected around his table, and testifying their happiness by their good-humour and cheerfulness.§ While his eldest son passed into the rank of hereditary nobility, it was to his second son, Robert, that Burleigh turned an anxious eye as the heir of his talents and influence. Now where his pains fruitlessly bestowed:|| Robert displayed abilities worthy of his father; and after rising, during his lifetime, to considerable trusts and employments in the state, succeeded him, under James I., as prime minister, under the title of earl of Salisbury. The care with which Burleigh watched over the interests of this son appears from a series of prudential advices arranged in ten divisions, which he drew up for his use.T

For the improvement of his children, as well as for his own domestic happiness, Burleigh was chiefly indebted to his wife, the daughter of Sir Anthony Cook, a lady highly distinguished for her mental accomplishments. The plan of female education, which the example of Sir Thomas More had rendered popular, continued to be pursued among the superior classes of the community. The learned languages, which, in the earlier part of Elizabeth's reign, still contained every thing elegant in literature, formed an indispensable branch of a fashionable education; and many young ladies of rank could not only translate the authors of Greece and Rome, but even compose in Greek and Latin with considerable elegance.

*Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 56.

† Ibid.

Sir Anthony Cook, a man eminent for his literary acquirements, and on that account appointed tutor to Edward VI., bestowed the most careful education on his five daughters; and all of them rewarded his exertions, by becoming not only proficients in literature, but distinguished for their excellent demeanour as mothers of families. Lady Burleigh was adorned with every quality which could excite love and esteem; and many instances are recorded of her piety and beneficence. She had accompanied her husband through all the vicissitudes of his fortunes; and an affectionate union of forty-three years rendered the loss of her the severest calamity of his life. The despondency caused to him by this irreparable calamity produced a desire to renounce public business, so irksome in that state of his feelings, and to devote the remainder of his life to retirement and meditation. But Elizabeth was too sensible of the vast importance of his counsels. She peremptorily rejected the resignation which he tendered, yet softened her refusal with those arts which she knew so well to employ.

But though Burleigh continued to apply himself with undiminished vigour to public business, his happiness had sustained a loss which nothing could repair. In his wife he had been deprived of a companion whose society long habit had rendered essential to his enjoyment; while the increasing severity of the gout, with other infirmities of age, aggravated the distress of his mind by the pains of his body. By no trait had he hitherto been more remarkable than by the unruffled calmness of his temper. The serenity of his countenance seemed to indicate a tranquillity so confirmed as to be incapable of interruption; and an eye-witness informs us that, for thirty years together, he was seldom seen moved with joy in prosperity, or with sorrow in adversity.* But in the latter years of his life this consummate self-command began to forsake him. Business became more irksome as strength decreased, and the success with which his antagonists thwarted his pacific counsels gave him infinite pain, as they seemed likely to undo all the national advantages which it had been the labour of his life to procure. His temper now became so unfortunately altered, that he, who had been so eminent for coolness, sometimes gave way to passion, in opposition to every dictate of discretion. In a conversation with M. Fouquerolles, an envoy from Henry IV., something which occurred so transported him with passion, that he broke out into the most vehement invectives against that monarch. His intercourse with his servants, which had been uniformly placid and cheerful, was now frequently interrupted by sudden bursts of peevishness: but on such occasions, he immediate

ly recollected himself; appeared sensible of the injustice of injuring those who could not retaliate; and endeavoured, by assuming a peculiar complacency in his words and looks, or by studiously devising some acts of kindness, to make reparation for the pain which he had unadvisedly caused.*

Various indications of declining health now began to assail the aged statesman. Still he con. tinued assiduous at his post, and laboured to rescue his countrymen from those delusive hopes of military glory and plunder, in pursuit of which they threatened to exhaust all their solid resources. The last public measure which he accomplished was the conclusion of an advantageous treaty with Holland and he closed his long and useful labours in the council with an earnest but ineffectual effort to persuade them to negotiate with Spain. He died on the 4th of August, 1598, in the seventy-eighth year of his age, having held the station of prime minister of England for the long period of forty years, and assisted in the conduct of public affairs for upwards of half a century. His death-bed was surrounded by friends whom he esteemed, by children for whose future welfare he had provided, by servants devoted to him from a long interchange of good offices; and he expired with the utmost serenity and composure. †

:

The death of Burleigh was a cause of general sorrow. Elizabeth deeply lamented the loss of a minister in whose exertions she had found security and success during her whole reign and the clouds which overhung the close of her career must often have renewed her regret for the want of her wise and faithful counsellor. A minister who opposes the multitude in the pursuit of an object on which their heated imaginations have fixed, is sure, at the moment, to be exposed to reproach. Such was the situation of Burleigh at the period of his death. In the face of popular clamour, he continued to deprecate a war which was no longer necessary for the public safety, and which wasted the wealth of the nation to gratify the pride or avarice of individuals. The earl of Essex, who still stood at the head of his antagonists, was the idol of the people; and they fondly contrasted the high spirit, the love of glory, the courageous sentiments of this young nobleman with what they termed the cold, cautious, illiberal policy of the aged Burleigh. Yet his death caused more regret than satisfaction, even among the unthinking multitude. They felt themselves deprived of a guardian, under whose vigilant protection they had long reposed and prospered; and there remained no statesman of equal experience to guide their affairs, at a time when the decay of Elizabeth, and a disputed succession, threatened the nation with many calamities. The lapse of time has long since removed those circumstances which elevated

*Life of William Lord Burghley, p. 49. † Ibid. p. 63.

the hopes and inflamed the passions of his contemporaries; the merits of Burleigh have been more justly estimated; and posterity seems to concur in recognising him as the wisest minister of England.

APPENDIX.

The Earl of Sussex to Sir William Cecil.*
"Good Mr. Secretary,

"Upon your request and promise, made in your letter of the 16th, I will write to you what by any means I conceive in this great matter; although the greatness of the cause, in respect of the person whose it is, the inconsistency and subtleness of the people with whom we deal, and the little account made always of my simple judgment, give me good occasion of silence. And, therefore, (unless it be to the queen's majesty, from whom I would not wish any thought of my heart to be hidden,) I look for a performance of your promise.

"The matter must at length take end, either by finding the Scottish queen guilty of the crimes that are objected against her, or by some manner of composition with a show of saving her honour. The first, I think, will hardly be attempted, for two causes. The one, for that if her adverse party accuse her of the murder, by producing of her letters, she will deny them, and accuse the most of them of manifest consent to the murder, hardly to be denied; so as, upon the trial on both sides, her proofs will judicially fall best out, it is thought. The other, for that their young king is of tender and weak years, and state of body; and if God should call him, and their queen were judicially defaced and dishonoured, and her son, in respect of her wickedness, admitted to the crown, Hamilton upon his death should succeed; which, as Murray's faction utterly detest, so, after her public defamation, they dare not, to avoid Hamilton, receive her again, for fear of revenge. And therefore, to avoid these great perils, they surely intend, so far as I can by any means discover, to labour a composition, wherein Lyddington was a dealer here, hath, by means, dealt with the Scottish queen, and will also, I think, deal there. And to that end I believe you will shortly hear of Melvil there, who, I think, is the instrument between Murray, Lyddington, and their queen, to work this composition; whereunto I think surely both parties do incline, although diversely affected for private respects.

"The earl of Murray and his faction work that their queen would now willingly surrender to her son, after the example of Navarre; and procure the confirming of the regency in Murray; and

This letter was written a few months after Mary's confinement in England; and the writer was, at the time, employed as one of the commissioners at York, to investigate the charges against her.