Palatine, afterwards elected king of Bohemia. is well known.

Her romantic and unhappy history

Sir Walter Raleigh was suffered to leave the Tower the very day Somerset and his wife entered it, having obtained his freedom from the needy king on the plea of finding a gold mine, traces of which he thought he had discovered on the Orinoco. He sailed on this expedition, but it ended in disappointment: no gold was found. The adventurers burnt down the Spanish town of St. Thomas, and in contest with the Spaniards Raleigh's son was killed. His crew mutinied, and he returned to England, a disappointed and ruined man, to resume his place in the Tower. He had been all his life the enemy of Spain; now he was to feel the vengeance of the Spaniards. James, who was anxious to obtain the infanta for his son's wife, yielded to the threats and entreaties of the Spanish ambassador Gondemar, and, with shameful injustice, sir Walter was executed on his old sentence for the "Main" Plot.

Negotiations for the Spanish marriage had been going on now for seven years: suddenly prince Charles declared his intention of visiting Spain and bringing the matter to a conclusion himself. James was at first very reluctant to permit him to leave England, but, as Buckingham, who had resolved to accompany the prince, pressed the matter, the king at length yielded an unwilling assent, and they departed. The marriage, however, did not take place. The insolence and coarseness of Buckingham disgusted the stately Spaniards, while the favourite was offended at their scarcely concealed contempt and displeasure at the freedom of his manners. It has been thought also that Charles had seen and been captivated by Henrietta Maria of France on his journey to Spain, and was therefore easily wrought on to give up the Spanish match, though he did not reveal his change of purpose before he left the Spanish court, but feigned sorrow at being recalled by his father, and departed solemnly betrothed to the infanta.

The joy of James at the return of his son and the favourite was damped by the ill-success of his cherished scheme. There was no money coming now from Spain; his debts were increased, his jewels nearly all gone, his daughter, the queen of Bohemia, was an exile, and a war with Spain imminent. He had not spirits to hunt or hawk, and most unwillingly found himself compelled to summon a parliament for the relief of his necessities. He had been used on former occasions to issue arbitrary proclamations laying down instructions to the electors. This time he did nothing of the kind, and when the members assembled he addressed them with great moderation and civility. Five days afterwards Buckingham, at a general conference held at Whitehall, delivered to the houses a specious narrative of their late enterprise, the prince of Wales standing beside him. Relying on the sympathy of the Commons (who were ready to credit anything to justify the breach of a match which they had always abhorred), the favourite solemnly declared that after many years' negotiation the king had been unable to bring the Spaniards to any decision. That the prince had gone to Spain himself, and had ascertained how false and deceitful the nation was; that the king had always regarded the restitution of the Palatinate to his daughter's husband as a preliminary of the match, but that the prince, after much ill-treatment, had been obliged to return home without either princess or Palatinate. This tissue of falsehood was received with enthusiasm by the parliament. Buckingham was called the "Saviour of the nation," the people praised him and lighted bonfires of rejoicing; the Spanish Ambassadors were insulted. These ministers declared that the duke's statement was false and injurious, but the houses defended the favourite, and declared that the king could no longer negotiate with Spain with honour. The people had grown eager for war, but their timid sovereign still trembled and hung back.

"Peace at any price" was his ardent wish-he would have sacrificed anything to

the attainment of this end. Nevertheless, the indignation of the people had once before compelled him to send aid to his daughter's husband, the dethroned king of Bohemia, and now the rupture of the Spanish marriage threatened a war with Spain through the same national spirit, which is always ready to assert itself.

While James discoursed of the blessedness of peace, prince Charles and Buckingham made ready for war. At the same time a matrimonial treaty was set on foot with France, James asking the hand of Henrietta Maria, Louis's sister, for his son. Cardinal Richelieu conducted the negotiations on the side of France. The conditions demanded by Louis were: 1st, That all catholics imprisoned for their religion since the rising of parliament should be released. 2nd, That all fines levied on them since that period should be repaid. 3rd, And that for the future they should be permitted freely to exercise their religion in private. The portion of the princess was fixed at eight hundred thousand crowns, a much smaller sum than the dower which the king had fondly hoped to receive with the infanta.

But James did not live to see this marriage solemnized. He became extremely ill with tertian ague and gout, and, while the court doctors were in attendance, the mother of Buckingham prescribed an infallible remedy in the form of a plaster and posset, which had been procured from a quack, living in Essex, who was famous for curing agues. The plaster was applied and the potion given against the advice of the physicians; but they were either useless or harmful, for, on the fourteenth day of his illness, Sunday, 27th of March, the king expired. He was fifty-eight years of age when he died, and had reigned twenty-two years over England.

James was awkward in his person and ungainly in his manners; pedantic and pusillanimous, but good-natured and generous.

ANECDOTES OF THE BEGINNING OF JAMES'S REIGN IN ENGLAND. SIR WALTER SCOTT.

James possessed all that could be derived from learning alloyed by pedantry, and from a natural shrewdness of wit, which enable him to play the part of a man of sense, when either acting under the influence of constraint and fear, or where no temptation occurred to induce him to be guilty of some folly. It was by these specious accomplishments that he acquired in his youth the character of an able and wise monarch, although when he was afterwards brought on a more conspicuous stage, and his character better understood, he was found entitled to no better epithet than that conferred on him by an able French politician, who called him, "the wisest fool in Christendom."

Such, however, as king James was, England now received him with more universal acclamation than had attended any of her princes on their ascent to the throne. Multitudes, of every description, hastened to accompany him on his journey through England to the capital city. The wealthy placed their gold at his disposal, the powerful opened their halls for the most magnificent entertainments, the clergy hailed him as the head of the Church, and the poor, who had nothing to offer but their lives, seemed ready to devote them to his service. Some of the Scottish retinue, who were acquainted with James's character, saw and feared the unfavourable effect which such a change of circumstances was likely to work on him. plague of these people!" said one of his old domestics; "they will spoil a good king.” Another Scot made an equally shrewd answer to an Englishman, who desired to know from him the king's real character. “Did you ever see a jackanapes?” said the Scotchman, meaning a tame monkey; "if you have, you must be aware that if

"A

you hold the creature in your hands you can make him bite me, and if I hold him in my hands, I can make him bite you."

Both these sayings were shown to be true in course of time. King James, brought from poverty to wealth, became thoughtless and prodigal, indolent, and addicted to idle pleasures. From hearing the smooth flatteries of the clergy of England, who recognised him as head of the Church, instead of the rude attacks of the Presbyterian ministers of Scotland, who had hardly admitted his claim to be one of its inferior members, he entertained new and more lofty pretensions to divine right. Finally, brought from a country where his personal liberty and the freedom of his government were frequently placed under restraint, and his life sometimes in danger, he was overjoyed to find himself in a condition where his own will was not only unfettered, as far as he himself was concerned, but appeared to be the model by which all loyal subjects were desirous to accommodate theirs; and he seemed readily enough disposed to stretch to its utmost limits the power thus presented to him. Thus, from being a just and equitable monarch, he was inspired with a love of arbitrary power; and from attending, as had been his custom, to state business, he now minded little save hunting and festivals.

In this manner James, though possessing a large stock of pedantic wisdom, came to place himself under the management of a succession of unworthy favourites, and although particularly good-natured, and naturally a lover of justice, was often hurried into actions and measures, which, if they could not be termed absolutely tyrannical, were nevertheless illegal and unjust.

*

* *

*

If the English nation were at first delighted to receive king James as their sovereign, the Scottish people were no less enchanted by the prospect of their monarch's ascent to this wealthy and pre-eminent situation. They considered the promotion of their countryman and prince as an omen of good fortune to their nation; each individual Scotchman expected to secure some part of the good things with which England was supposed to abound, and multitudes hurried to court, to put themselves in the way of obtaining their share.

James was shocked at the greediness and importunity of his hungry countrymen, and scandalized besides at the poor and miserable appearance which many of them made among the rich Englishmen, which brought discredit on the country to which he himself, as well as they, belonged. He sent instructions to the Scottish Privy Council to prevent such intruders from leaving their country, complaining of their manners and appearance, as calculated to bring disgrace upon all the natives of Scotland. A proclamation was accordingly issued at Edinburgh, setting forth that great numbers of men and women of base sort and condition, and without any certain trade, calling, or dependence, repaired from Scotland to court, which was almost filled with them, to the great annoyance of his Majesty, and to the heavy disgrace of the Scottish nation; for these suitors being, in the judgment of all who saw them, but idle rascals, and poor miserable bodies," their importunity and numbers raised an opinion that there were no persons of good rank, comeliness, or credit in the country which sent forth such a flight of locusts. Further, it was complained that these unseemly supplicants usually alleged that the cause of their repairing to court was to desire payment of old debts due by the king, "which, of all kinds of importunity," says the proclamation, with great simplicity, "is the most unpleasing to his Majesty." Therefore, general proclamation was directed to be made at all the market-crosses in Scotland, that no Scottish person should be permitted to travel to England without leave of the Privy Council; and that vessels transporting individuals, who had not obtained due license, should be liable to confiscation.

But although the king did all that was in his power to prevent these uncouth

suitors from repairing to his court, yet there were many other natives of Scotland of a higher description, the sons of men of rank and quality, who, by birth and condition, had the right of attending his court, and approaching his presence, whom he could not prohibit from doing so, without positively disowning all former affections, national feeling, and sympathy or gratitude for past services. The benefits which he conferred on these were ill construed by the English, who seem to have accounted every thing as taken from themselves which was bestowed on a Scotchman. The king, though it does not appear that he acted with any unjust purpose, was hardly judged, both by his own countrymen and the English. The Scots, who had been his friends in his inferior situation, and, as it might be called, his adversity, naturally expected a share of his bounty, when he was advanced to such high prosperity; while the English, with a jealousy for which much allowance is also to be made, regarded these northern suitors with an evil eye. In short, the Scottish courtiers thought that their claims of ancient services, of allegiance tried under difficult circumstances, of favour due to countrymen, and perhaps even to kindred, which no people carry so far, entitled them to all the advantages which the king might have to bestow; while the English, on the other hand, considered every thing given to the Scots as conferred at their expense, and used many rhymes and satirical expressions to that purpose, such as occur in the old song :

"Bonny Scot, all witness can,

England has made thee a gentleman."

"Thy blue bonnet, when thou came hither,
Would scarcely keep out the wind or weather;
But now it is turn'd to a hat and a feather-
The bonnet is blown the devil knows whither.
The sword at thy haunch was a huge black blade,
With a great basket-hilt, of iron made;

But now a long rapier doth hang by his side,
And huffingly doth this bonny Scot ride."

Another rhyme, to the same purpose, described a Scottish courtier thus:

In Scotland he was born and bred,

And, though a beggar, must be fed."

It is said, that when the Scots complained to the king of this last aspersion, James replied, "Hold your peace, for I will soon make the English as poor as yourselves, and so end that controversy." But as it was not in the power of wit to appease the feud betwixt the nobility and gentry of two proud nations, so lately enemies, all the efforts of the king were unequal to prevent bloody and desperate quarrels between his countrymen and his new subjects, to the great disquiet of the court, and the distress of the good-natured monarch, who, averse to war in all its shapes, and even to the sight of a drawn sword, suffered grievously on such occasions.

There was one of those incidents which assumed a character so formidable, that it threatened the destruction of all the Scots at the court and in the capital, and, in consequence, a breach between the kingdoms so lately and happily brought into alliance. At a public horse-race at Croydon, Philip Herbert, an Englishman of high birth, though, as it fortunately chanced, of no degree of corresponding spirit, received, in a quarrel, a blow in the face by a switch or horse-whip, from one Ramsay, a Scottish gentleman, in attendance on the court. The rashness and violence of Ramsay was construed into a national point of quarrel by the English present, who proposed revenging themselves on the spot by a general attack upon all the Scots on the race-ground. One gentleman, named Pinchbeck, although ill fitted

for such a strife, for he had but the use of two fingers on his right hand, rode furiously through the multitude, with his dagger ready drawn, exhorting all the English to imitate him in an immediate attack on the Scots, exclaiming, "Let us breakfast with those that are here, and dine with the rest in London." But as Herbert did not return the blow, no scuffle or assault actually took place; otherwise, it is probable, a dreadful scene must have ensued. James, with whom Herbert was a particular favourite, rewarded his moderation or timidity by raising him to the rank of knight, baron, viscount, and earl of Montgomery, all in one day. Ramsay was banished the court for a season; and thus the immediate affront was in some degree alleviated. But the new earl of Montgomery remained, in the opinion of his countrymen, a dishonoured man; and it is said his mother, the sister of sir Philip Sydney, wept and tore her hair when she heard of his having endured with patience the insult offered by Ramsay. This is the lady whom, in a beautiful epitaph, Ben Jonson has described as

Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother;

Death, ere thou hast slain another

Wise, and good, and learn'd as she,

Time shall throw a dart at thee."

Yet the patience of Herbert under the insult was the fortunate prevention of a great national misfortune, for which, if his after conduct had not given tokens of an abject spirit, he might have been praised as a patriot, who had preferred the good of his country to the gratification of his own immediate resentment.

Another offence given by the haughty and irascible temper of a Scotchman, was also likely to have produced disastrous consequences. The Inns of Court are the places of resort and study appointed for those young men who are destined to the profession of the law in England, and they are filled with students, men often of high family and accomplishments, and who, living together in the sort of colleges set apart for their residence, have always kept up the ideas of privilege and distinction, to which their destination to a highly honourable profession, as well as their own birth and condition entitles them. One of these gentleinen, by name Edward Hawley, appeared at court on a public occasion, and probably intruded farther than his rank authorised; so that Maxwell, a Scotchman, much favoured by James, and an usher of his chamber, not only thrust him back, but actually pulled him out of the presence-chamber by a black riband, which, like other gallants of the time, Hawley wore at his ear. Hawley, who was a man of spirit, instantly challenged Maxwell to fight; and his second, who carried the challenge, informed him, that if he declined such meeting, Hawley would assault him wherever they should meet, and either kill him or be killed on the spot. James, by his royal interference, was able to solder up this quarrel also. He compelled Maxwell to make an apology to Hawley; and for the more full accommodation of the dispute, accepted of a splendid masque and entertainment offered on the occasion by the students of Gray's Inn, the society to which the injured gentleman belonged.

We may here remark a great change in the manners of the gallants of the time, which had taken place in the progress of civilisation, to which I formerly alluded. The ancient practice of trial by combat, which made a principal part of the feudal law, and which was resorted to in so many cases, had now fallen into disuse. The progress of reason, and the principles of justice, concurred to prove that a combat in the lists might indeed show which of two knights was the best rider and the stoutest swordsman, but that such an encounter could afford no evidence which of the two was innocent or guilty; since it can only be believed in a very ignorant age that Providence is to work a miracle in case of every chance combat, and award success to the party whose virtue best deserves it. The trial by combat, therefore,