st, he
acquiesced in his punishment, with every mark of penitence, and
Elizabeth was beginning to relax in her severity for she never
intended to ruin him; but he soon gave vent to his violent temper,
indulged in great liberties of speech, and threw off all appearance of
duty and respect. He even engaged in treasonable designs, encouraged
Roman Catholics at his house, and corresponded with James VI. of
Scotland about his succession. His proceedings were discovered, and he
was summoned before the privy council. Instead of obedience, he armed
himself and his followers, and, in conjunction with some discontented
nobles, and about three hundred gentlemen, attempted to excite an
insurrection in London, where he was very popular with the citizens.
He was captured and committed to the Tower, with the Earl of
Southampton. These rash but brave noblemen were tried by their peers,
and condemned as guilty of high treason. In this trial, the celebrated
Bacon appeared against his old patron, and likened him to the Duke of
Guise. The great lawyer Coke, who was attorney-general, compared him
to Catiline.

Essex disdained to sue the queen for a pardon, and was privately
beheaded in the Tower. He merited his fate, if the offence of which he
was guilty deserved such a punishment. It is impossible not to be
interested in the fate of a man so brave, high-spirited, and generous,
the idol of the people, and the victor in so many enterprises. Some
historians maintain that Elizabeth relented, and would have saved her
favorite, had he only implored her clemency; but this statement is
denied by others; nor have we any evidence to believe that Essex,
caught with arms against the sovereign who had honored him, could have
averted his fate.

Elizabeth may have wept for the death of the nobleman she had loved.
It is certain that, after his death, she never regained her spirits,
and that a deep melancholy was visible in her countenance. All her
actions showed a deeply-settled inward grief, and that she longed for
death, having tasted the unsubstantial nature of human greatness. She
survived the execution of Essex two years, but lived long enough to
see the neglect into which she was every day falling, and to feel
that, in spite of all her glory and power, she was not exempted from
drinking the cup of bitterness.

[Sidenote: Character of Elizabeth.]

Whatever unamiable qualities she evinced as a woman, in spite of her
vanity, and jealousy, and imp