At last, at the age of fifty-two, being tired of statecraft and the Court, and “for the loue” he bore to his “reuerend Mother the Vniversitie of Oxon,” and in order to “do the true part of a profitable member in the State” he decided to offer to restore the old University library, or in his own memorable words “examining exactlye for the rest of my life, what course I might take, and haueing sowght (as I thought) all the wayes to the wood, to select the most proper, I concluded at the last, to set vp my Staffe at the Librarie dore in Oxon; being throwghly perswaded, that in my solitude, and surcease from the Commonwealth affayers, I coulde not busie my selfe to better purpose, then by redusing that place (which then in euery part laye ruined and wast) to the publique vse of Studients. For the effecting whereof, I found my selfe furnished in a competent proportion, of such fower kindes of ayds, as vnles I had them all, there was no hope of good successe: for without some kinde of knowledg, as well in the learned and moderne tongues, as in sundry other sorts of Scholasticall literature, without some purse habilitie to goe throwgh with the charge, without very great store of honorable friends, to further the designe, and without speciall good leasure to follow such a worke, it could but have proued a vayne attempt and inconsiderate.” To have knowledge what to do, money to do it, friends to help it, and leisure to see it done—on those four qualifications the Founder based his offer to the University, dated February 23, 1598. The old dismantled room with its bare fifteenth century walls was there, making its mute appeal, and at last the Hour and the Man came. The “spacious times of great Elizabeth” provided, not a youthful enthusiast, but a man of world-wide experience, with all the learning which Oxford could impart, with ample means, with friends at Court, and with a fixed purpose for his years of retirement. [Sidenote: The New Library.]