ceived and entertained in a thoroughly academical

manner.

At Cambridge the master of King's College, as Public Orator, greeted her in a Latin speech of three quarters of an hour, delivered upon his knees. At his excessive praise of her virtues, the Queen bit her fingers, and shook her head, exclaiming, "Non est veritas," but when he went on to praise virginity, she cried out, "God's blessing on thy heart, there continue."

On Sunday she attended the service in King's College Chapel, and was escorted thither by four doctors of divinity, who held a canopy of state above her head.

She praised the Latin sermon; she conversed in that language with young scholars in the colleges and streets, seeming to enjoy the exercise of her mental powers; and we are told that, among her many criticisms of University matters, was a highly unfavourable one upon the ragged and soiled condition of many of the academical gowns and hoods. Could her spirit walk again the streets of Oxford and Cambridge, she would doubtless see good reason for a repetition of her words!

She bade farewell to Cambridge in a wellprepared Latin oration, though feigning maiden

modesty and want of preparation, she answered the enthusiastic applause with which her words were greeted, by wishing that her hearer "had drank of Lethe."

Two years later she entered Oxford, by way of Woodstock and Wolvercote, and at the latter village she was met by Leicester, who was Chancellor of the University, and a learned band of doctors of divinity in their scarlet robes. She listened with interest to the speech of the Public Orator, but when Dr. Humphreys, the great Puritan leader drew near, she greeted him with the famous words, "Mr. Doctor, that loose gown becomes you mighty well; I wonder your notions should be so narrow."

Among other entertainments provided for her in Oxford, was a play called "Palamon and Arcite," by Richard Edwards, enacted in Christ Church Hall, and in which the heroine was clad in robes lent for the occasion, which had belonged to the late Queen Mary.

The heroine's part was played by a lad of fourteen, whose good looks so pleased Elizabeth that she bestowed upon him the sum of eight pounds. The borrowed robe was of purple velvet, with a satin ground, and seemed to have suffered somewhat from its academical use, as it was re

turned to the wardrobe officials with a valuable

portion missing!

In St. Mary's Church the Queen heard learned disputations; and there she was greatly displeased with a certain Dr. Westphaling, who spoke at such length that her own oration was obliged to be postponed until the next day; even though-with manners more regal than academic-she sent a messenger to bid him, "make an end of his discourse without delay."

She spent a week in Oxford, and made her final farewell to the University in a Greek oration, receiving as a parting present six fine pairs of gloves for her own use, and others for members of her household.

She had a passion for receiving presents, and her courtiers and ladies constantly made her offerings of gold and silver jewelry, and garments wonderfully embroidered in silk and lace. Her love of dress, and of elaborate toilettes, seemed to grow with her years; no material could be too rich, no jewels too precious, with which to deck her person, and she never allowed herself to be seen, even by her intimate friends, except elaborately attired.

Her pictures are well known; she usually appears in them attired in the close-fitting headdress of the time, surmounted by a mass of jewels,

the lace ruffle, stiffened until it adds an unnatural width to the shoulders, and a dress as rich and rare as skill can produce, and of which probably she possessed a greater number than any woman who has ever lived.

Such was Elizabeth, a grand human figure, with the grandeur of one who recognised from the first her part in life, and played it successfully to the end; and yet human in the yearning for love and admiration which seemed to grow with her years.

Her lonely isolation weighed increasingly upon her, until it reached its pathetic end in the deathbed scene, in March 1603.

"Robin, I am not well," she said to her kinsman. Sir Robert Carey, who found her stretched among cushions on the floor of her chamber.

There were none to watch with clinging affection round the bed to which at last they carried her, so sorely against her will; and though her faithful ministers and loyal friends, her ladies-inwaiting, and the good Archbishop of Canterbury, all did their part in aiding her to make ready for that last great royal progress, still they were all far from her in race and station; and in the early dawn of that chill March morning, alone, as she had lived, the spirit of the mighty Queen Elizabeth passed to its rest.

CHAPTER II

COUNTRY LIFE

DURING the reign of Elizabeth, English social life underwent an entire change. Men ceased to live in the stormy atmosphere of political intrigue or religious controversy to which they had become accustomed; peace and prosperity settled down on the land, and the beginnings were established of that comfortable country life throughout England which endures to our own day.

The country gentleman, freed from the duty of spending himself and his substance in warfare either political or religious, could now live on his own land, and turn his attention to the improvement of his property, and the greater comfort of himself and his family.

Houses could now be built more with a view to convenience, than to fortification, and so there arose many stately homes which still bear record to the style of Elizabethan architecture. The ordinary houses of the country gentlemen were still built usually of wood, of two storeys, thatched