th all that the
world had yet seen, in classical times and more recently in Italy, of
such history. He sent the book, among other persons, to the Queen of
Bohemia, with a phrase, the translation of a trite Latin commonplace,
which may have been the parent of one which became famous in our time;
and with an expression of absolute confidence in the goodness of his own
work.

"I have read in books that it is accounted a great bliss for a man
to have _Leisure with Honour_. That was never my fortune. For time
was, I had Honour without Leisure; and now I have _Leisure without
Honour_.... But my desire is now to have _Leisure without
Loitering_, and not to become an abbey-lubber, as the old proverb
was, but to yield some fruit of my private life.... If King Henry
were alive again, I hope verily he would not be so angry with me
for not flattering him, as well pleased in seeing himself so truly
described in colours that will last and be believed."

But the tide had turned against him for good. A few fair words, a few
grudging doles of money to relieve his pressing wants, and those
sometimes intercepted and perhaps never rightly granted from an
Exchequer which even Cranfield's finance could not keep filled, were all
the graces that descended upon him from those fountains of goodness in
which he professed to trust with such boundless faith. The King did not
want him, perhaps did not trust him, perhaps did not really like him.
When the _Novum Organum_ came out, all that he had to say about it was
in the shape of a profane jest that "it was like the peace of God--it
passed all understanding." Other men had the ear of Buckingham; shrewd,
practical men of business like Cranfield, who hated Bacon's loose and
careless ways, or the clever ecclesiastic Williams, whose counsel had
steered Buckingham safely through the tempest that wrecked Bacon, and
who, with no legal training, had been placed in Bacon's seat. "I
thought," said Bacon, "that I should have known my successor." Williams,
for his part, charged Bacon with trying to cheat his creditors, when his
fine was remitted. With no open quarrel, Bacon's relations to Buckingham
became more ceremonious and guarded; the "My singular good Lord" of the
former letters becomes, now that Buckingham had risen so high and Bacon
had sunk so low, "Excellent Lord." The one friend to whom Bacon had
once wished to owe everything had become the great man, now