QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Western Star, Issue 987, 3 October 1885, Page 2 (Supplement)

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Queen Elizabeth, dies; and dies of grief. It has been the fashion to attribute to her, I do not know why, remorse for Essex’s death'; and the foolish and false tale about Lady Nottingham and the ring has been, accepted as history. The fact seems to be, that . she never really heldfiip her after Burleigh’s death. She could not. speak of him without tears; forbade his name to be mentioned in the Council. No wonder • never had. mistress a better servant., Eor nearly, half a century have ihese ‘two noble souls loved other, trusted each other, worked with? each other; and God’s blessing has been on their deeds; and now the faithful Godfearing man is gbnetohis regard; and she is growing old, and knows that the ancient fire is dying out in her; and whojwill be to her what;he was ? Buckhurst is a good , man and one of her, pupils, and she makes him y Lord Treasurer in Burleigh’s place; but beyond that, all is ; dark. “I am a - miserable, forlorn woman; there is none about me that I can trust.” She sees' through Cecil; through Henry Howard. Essex has proved himself worthless, and pays of his sins. Men are growing worse than their fathers. Spanish gold is bringing in luxury and sin. • The last 10 years of her reign are years of decadence, profligacy, falsehood; anid she cannot but see it. Tyrone’s ! rebellion is the last drop which s fills the cup. After 60 years of war, after a drain of money all but fabulous, expended on keeping Ireland quiet, the volcano bursts forthagairi just as it seemed ekr tingtiisbed, more fiercely thanever, and the whole work has to be. done ever again, when there is neither time nor a man to do it. And ahead what hope is there for England ?: Who will be her successor ? She) knows in her heart that it will be James; but she cannot bring herself to name him. To bequeath the fruit of all her labours to a tyrant, a liar, and a coward; for she knows the man but.too well. Itjis too hideous to be faced. , This is the end, then ? “ Ob that I were a milke maide, with a paile upon mine arm,!’’ But it cannot be. It never could have been; and must endure to the end. “ Therefore I hated life; yea, I hated all .my labour which I had taken under the sun; becauso I should leave it •to the man that shall be after me. And who knows whether he shall be a wise man or a fool ? Yet shall he have a rule over all my labour wherein I have showed myself wise, in wisdom, and knowledge, and equity. . . . Vanity of vanities, all is vanity and vexa tion of spirit 1” And so, with a whole book of Ecclesiastes written bn that mighty heart, theold lioness coils herself up in her lair, refuses food, and dies. I know few passages ?in the world’s history more tragic than that death.— From Flays and Furitans, and other Historical Essays, by Charles Kinyshy, • I «