and the occupations of a courtier could
entirely quench, soon caused him to break loose from their intolerable
restraint.

Francis Bacon, in furtherance of the plan which he had suggested to his
patron of appearing to sink all other characters in that of a devoted
servant of her majesty, likewise condescended to employ his genius upon
a device which was exhibited by the earl on the ensuing anniversary of
her accession, with great applause.

First, his page, entering the tilt-yard, accosted her majesty in a fit
speech, and she in return graciously pulled off her glove and gave it to
him. Some time after appeared the earl himself, who was met by an
ancient hermit, a secretary of state, and a soldier; each of whom
presented him with a book recommending his own course of life, and,
after a little pageantry and dumb show to relieve the solemnity of the
main design, pronounced a long and well-penned speech to the same
effect. All were answered by an esquire, or follower of the earl, who
pointed out the evils attached to each pursuit, and concluded, says our
reporter, "with an excellent but too plain English, that this knight
would never forsake his mistress' love, whose virtue made all his
thoughts divine, whose wisdom taught him all true policy, whose beauty
and worth made him at all times fit to command armies. He showed all
the defects and imperfections of their times, and therefore thought his
own course of life to be best in serving his mistress.... The queen said
that if she had thought there had been so much said of her, she would
not have been there that night; and so went to bed." These speeches may
still be read, with mingled admiration and regret, amongst the immortal
works of Francis Bacon. In majesty of diction and splendor of allusion
they are excelled by none of his more celebrated pieces; and with such a
weight of meaning are they fraught, that they who were ignorant of the
serious purpose which he had in view might wonder at the prodigality of
the author in employing massy gold and real gems on an occasion which
deserved nothing better than tinsel and false brilliants. That full
justice might be done to the eloquence of the composition, the favorite
part of the esquire was supported by Toby Matthew, whose father was
afterwards archbishop of York; a man of a singular and wayward
disposition, whose prospects in life were totally destroyed by his
subsequent conversion to popery; but whose talents and learning w