ish,
he learned to escape the prejudices which prevailed against his country.
And so long as he was content to be ruled by Overbury's friendly
counsels, he enjoyed--what is rare--the highest favor of the prince,
without being hated by the people.

To complete the measure of courtly happiness, nought was wanting but a
kind mistress; and, where high fortune concurred with all the graces of
youth and beauty, this circumstance could not be difficult to attain.
But it was here that the favorite met with that rock on which all his
fortunes were wrecked, and which plunged him forever into an abyss of
infamy, guilt, and misery.

No sooner had James mounted the throne of England, than he remembered
his friendship for the unfortunate families of Howard and Devereux, who
had suffered for their attachment to the cause of Mary and to his own.
Having restored young Essex to his blood and dignity, and conferred
the titles of Suffolk and Northampton on two brothers of the house of
Norfolk, he sought the further pleasure of uniting these families by the
marriage of the earl of Essex with Lady Frances Howard, daughter of the
earl of Suffolk. She was only thirteen, he fourteen years of age; and it
was thought proper, till both should attain the age of puberty that he
should go abroad, and pass some time in his travels.[*] He returned into
England after four years' absence, and was pleased to find his countess
in the full lustre of beauty, and possessed of the love and admiration
of the whole court. But, when the earl approached, and claimed the
privileges of a husband, he met with nothing but symptoms of aversion
and disgust, and a flat refusal of any further familiarities. He applied
to her parents, who constrained her to attend him into the country, and
to partake of his bed: but nothing could overcome her rigid sullenness
and obstinacy; and she still rose from his side without having shared
the nuptial pleasures. Disgusted with reiterated denials, he at last
gave over the pursuit, and separating himself from her, thenceforth
abandoned her conduct to her own will and discretion.

Such coldness and aversion in Lady Essex arose not without an attachment
to another object. The favorite had opened his addresses, and had been
too successful in making impression on the tender heart of the young
countess.[**] She imagined that, so long as she refused the embraces
of Essex, she never could be deemed his wife; and that a separation and
divorc