Keeper, the fragment of whose effigy in the Crypt of St. Paul’s is one of the few relics of the old Cathedral before the fire.  His uncle by marriage was that William Cecil who was to be Lord Burghley.  His mother, the sister of Lady Cecil, was one of the daughters of Sir Antony Cook, a person deep in the confidence of the reforming party, who had been tutor of Edward VI.  She was a remarkable woman, highly accomplished after the fashion of the ladies of her party, and as would become her father’s daughter and the austere and laborious family to which she belonged.  She was “exquisitely skilled in the Greek and Latin tongues;” she was passionately religious, according to the uncompromising religion which the exiles had brought back with them from Geneva, Strasburg, and Zurich, and which saw in Calvin’s theology a solution of all the difficulties, and in his discipline a remedy for all the evils, of mankind.  This means that his boyhood from the first was passed among the high places of the world—­at one of the greatest crises of English history—­in the very centre and focus of its agitations.  He was brought up among the chiefs and leaders of the rising religion, in the houses of the greatest and most powerful persons of the State, and naturally, as their child, at times in the Court of the Queen, who joked with him, and called him “her young Lord Keeper.”  It means also that the religious atmosphere in which he was brought up was that of the nascent and aggressive Puritanism, which was not satisfied with the compromises of the Elizabethan Reformation, and which saw in the moral poverty and incapacity of many of its chiefs a proof against the great traditional system of the Church which Elizabeth was loath to part with, and which, in spite of all its present and inevitable shortcomings, her political sagacity taught her to reverence and trust.

At the age of twelve he was sent to Cambridge, and put under Whitgift at Trinity.  It is a question which recurs continually to readers about those times and their precocious boys, what boys were then?  For whatever was the learning of the universities, these boys took their place with men and consorted with them, sharing such knowledge as men had, and performing exercises and hearing lectures according to the standard of men.  Grotius at eleven was the pupil and companion of Scaliger and the learned band of Leyden; at fourteen he was part of the company which went with the ambassadors of the States-General to Henry IV.; at sixteen he was called to the bar, he published an out-of-the-way Latin writer, Martianus Capella, with a learned commentary, and he was the correspondent of De Thou.  When Bacon was hardly sixteen he was admitted to the Society of “Ancients” of Gray’s Inn, and he went in the household of Sir Amyas Paulet, the Queen’s Ambassador, to France.  He thus spent two years in France, not in Paris alone, but at Blois, Tours, and Poitiers.  If this was precocious, there is no indication that it was thought precocious.  It only meant that clever and promising boys were earlier associated with men in important business than is customary now.  The old and the young heads began to work together sooner.  Perhaps they felt that there was less time to spare.  In spite of instances of longevity, life was shorter for the average of busy men, for the conditions of life were worse.