away, passing away!-At another time it is to my Lord Strafford that Horace apologises for the levity of the context by trotting out the trite text again: "You see, my dear Lord, my easy philosophy can divert itself with anything, even with visions; which perhaps is the best way of treating the great vision, life itself."* And once more, having to narrate the wild ways of his scapegrace nephew, that Orford to whose title he succeeded, Horace tells Horace: "You see how my nephew throws my mind into a moral train, which is naturally more gay; and my wisdom commonly prefers accepting the vision life as a something, to analysing it."+ I do not remember that Walpole ever cared to make any exception to his sweeping proposition that life's a dream. Yet surely exceptions should be, as happily they have been, made. "L'homme n'a que des rêves, il n'est lui-même qu'un rêve. Exceptons cependant, pour nous consoler, l'amitié, la reconnaissance, tous les bons sentiments, tous ceux surtouts qui sont faits pour unir les hommes estimables." By the cultivation of this habit of mind, and not otherwise, seems it practicable to secure by personal experience the doctrine of Wordsworth's Wanderer, That what we feel of sorrow and despair From ruin and from change, and all the grief That passing shows of Being leave behind, Shall seem an idle dream, that can maintain Nowhere dominion o'er the enlightened spirit Whose meditative sympathies repose Upon the breast of Faith.§ What else is the purport of Monk Samson's philosophy, his and his shaven-crown fellow Monks of St. Edmundsbury, as expounded and defended by Mr. Carlyle,-to wit, that this Earthly Life and its riches and possessions, are not intrinsically a reality at all, but are a shadow of realities eternal, infinite; that "this Time-world, as an air-image, fearfully emblematic, plays and flickers in the grand still mirror of Eternity; and man's little Life has duties that are great, that are alone great, and go up to Heaven, and down to Hell." This, with their poor litanies, is what their latter-day apologist understands them to testify and struggle to testify. Virtually it is all one with Cowper's negation of the unreality of this Earthly Life, which, as the Christian poet contends, is No trifle, howsoever short it seem, *Walpole to the Earl of Strafford, Nov. 2, 1776. † Walpole to Mann, May 14, 1777. Joseph de Maistre. Past and Present, book ii. ch. vi. The Excursion, book i. ¶ Cowper's Hope. THE JOURNEY OF JACK AND TOM SMITH TO MADRID. I. BY WHOM THE JOURNEY TO MADRID WAS PROJECTED; AND HOW IT WAS ON Monday, the 17th of February, in the year 1623, King James I. was alone in his private cabinet in the palace of Whitehall, engaged in perusing a despatch, which he had just received from the Earl of Bristol, then ambassador-extraordinary to the court of Madrid. With the appearance of the monarch the reader must be familiar, so it is scarcely necessary to describe him, but we may mention, that on this occasion, as on most others, he was cased in a black silk doublet, so thickly padded as to be proof against stroke of sword or dagger. This bolstered doublet gave him an air of excessive and unnatural corpulency, though in reality his frame was very meagre, as was shown by his legs, while his huge bombasted trunk-hose greatly impeded his movements and increased the natural ungainliness of his figure. There were more marks of age and decrepitude about James than were warranted by his years -he was then only fifty-seven-his cheeks were hollow, his eyes blear, his limbs shrunken, and he tottered in his gait like a feeble old man. His whole appearance, indeed, betokened that he was well-nigh worn out, and such was the opinion entertained of him by the courtiers, who, feeling assured he could not last long, had already begun to pay their devotions to the rising sun. VOL. LVI. * All rights reserved. 2 G The intelligence conveyed to the king was evidently far from agreeable to him. Not only did he manifest considerable irritation, as by the aid of a powerful pair of glasses he got through the despatch, but at last he threw it down with an oath-the British Solomon, as is well known, swore lustily when angered-and exclaimed, "By my saul! I will no longer be trifled with. The King of Spain is playing me false. I will break off the marriagetreaty at once, and recal Bristol." He then seized a pen, and adjusting his spectacles, began to indite a letter to the ambassador, in which he gave full vent to his displeasure, by no means mincing his phrases, but setting down whatever came uppermost. While he was thus occupied, the door was opened, and two persons entered the cabinet. As they were unannounced by the gentleman-usher, James, among whose many infirmities deafness was numbered, did not hear them come in, and his back, being towards the door, he did not remark their presence. So he continued his task, under the impression that he was alone, concocting his sentences aloud, and thus acquainting those near him with the secrets of his despatch, as well as diverting them by the coarse energy of his expressions. The foremost of the two would have interrupted him, but was checked by his companion, who whispered in his ear, "Let him alone. He will never send off that despatch." The individual to whom these words were addressed, was a young man about two-and-twenty, whose noble lineaments and dignified deportment proclaimed him of the highest rank. In fact, he looked infinitely more like a king than the old monarch near whom he stood. His features were characterised by a gravity far beyond his years, and a shade of melancholy sat upon his brow, heightening the interest inspired by his handsome and thoughtful countenance. His eyes were large and black, his forehead lofty and capacious, denoting the possession of a powerful intellect, while his looks breathed taste and refinement. Moustaches and a pointed beard harmonised well with his somewhat lengthy visage, and his dark locks, divided above the temples, fell down in ringlets upon the starched lace ruff encircling his throat, and which served as a frame to his comely head-a head, once seen, never to be forgotten. His complexion was pale, inclining to swarthiness-a hue of skin supposed to belong to one of saturnine temperament. He was about the middle height, but held himself so erect that he seemed taller than he was in reality. His figure was slender, but perfectly proportioned, and his demeanour, as we have intimated, full of grace and majesty. His habiliments were of white velvet, and became him well, the doublet and hose being puffed with azure silk, and the mantle lined with the same stuff. His sole ornament was the diamond star upon his cloak. In this striking-looking personage there will be little difficulty, we apprehend, in recognising Charles Prince of Wales. The prince's companion was likewise very handsome-handsomer, indeed, than the prince-but he lacked the dignity of manner and singularly high-bred look that distinguished Charles. He was in the prime of manhood, being the prince's senior by about eight or nine years, and possessed a figure of unequalled symmetry. Well-favoured, however, as he was in form and feature, his haughty manner marred the effect of his good looks. His magnificent person needed no embellishment, yet his attire was splendid, his pink satin doublet and hose being covered with gems, while chains of large orient pearls hung from his neck down to his very girdle, which was likewise encrusted with precious stones. To the extraordinary personal advantages we have described, George Villiers, Marquis of Buckingham-for he it was added great accomplishments, mental as well as bodily. Clear-sighted, keen-witted, eloquent, and if not learned or profound, he had art enough to hide his deficiences. He was expert in all manly exercises; rode better than any one at court, won all the prizes at the tilt-yard, and danced more gracefully than Sir Walter Raleigh. Seven years ago, on his first appearance at court, where he was introduced as a rival to the then reigning favourite, Carr, Earl of Somerset, young Villiers's remarkable graces of person and captivating manner at once attracted the king's notice, and his rise was incredibly rapid. Favours were lavished upon him by the infatuated monarch; he was ennobled, and eventually raised to the highest posts in the state. To enumerate all the important offices with which he had been gratified by his doting master would be tedious, but it may be mentioned, in order to give an idea of his power and greatness at the period in question, that he was Lord High Admiral of England, Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, Constable of the Castle of Dover and of the royal Castle of Windsor, Lord President of the Council of War, Knight of the Garter, and first minister. Besides all these and many other posts and honours, he had a dukedom in expectancy. Since his aggrandisement, however, Buckingham's character had materially changed. Affable at first to all, he had become excessively haughty and domineering, being insolent even to his royal master. Boundlessly profuse in expenditure, and insatiate, he well-nigh drained James's coffers. His entertainments were superb, surpassing in splendour those of the king. His retinue was that of a prince; his carriage was drawn by six horses, and if he rode forth a large escort attended him. No wonder that his insufferable arrogance and imperious deportment alienated his partisans and increased the number of his enemies-no wonder that his overthrow was frequently attempted. In vain. Buckingham proved too strong for his enemies. Favourite alike of father and son, of the king and the heir to the throne, he derided all opposition. That Buckingham should have succeeded in ingratiating himself with a prince so grave and reserved in manner as Charles, whose character was so opposite to his own, and who was so likely to be distrustful of his advances, shows wonderful adroitness on his part, and proves incontestably that he possessed in the highest degree the art of pleasing. In order, however, to confirm his influence with the prince, he conceived a bold and singular project, to explain which a brief retrospect will be necessary. James had long cherished the design of forming a matrimonial alliance for his son with Spain, and had made a formal proposition to Philip III. for the hand of his second daughter, the Infanta Maria; but though the offer was graciously received, and negotiations entered into, innumerable delays occurred, and his patience being at length exhausted by the dilatory Spanish cabinet, James put an end to the treaty. But though baffled, and offended by the duplicity which he supposed had been practised towards him, James had not altogether abandoned his design, and other circumstances occurring at a later period to render an alliance with Spain more than ever desirable in his eyes, he determined to renew his offer to Philip IV., who had just succeeded his father. In this matrimonial scheme, Charles, the principal person concerned in it, entirely acquiesced. Though he had never beheld the Infanta, the ravishing description he had received of her charms inflamed his breast with the strongest passion. Accordingly, John Digby, Earl of Bristol, a diplomatist of approved ability, and who stood deservedly high in James's favour, was despatched as ambassador-extraordinary to Madrid to propose the match to Philip IV. The young king seemed far more favourably inclined to the alliance than his father had been, and declared that if the religious difficulties in the way of the union could be adjusted, all other points might be easily settled. But these difficulties were not easily removed. Months flew by-and the negotiation made little progress. As a preliminary measure, a dispensation had to be obtained from the Pope, Gregory XV., but this was refused unless the King of England engaged to mitigate the severe laws then in force against his Roman Catholic subjects. To this demand James assented, and began at once to carry his promise into effect. His ready compliance, however, induced the Pope to make further demands, and James was compelled to make additional concessions. Still the dispensation was delayed. Things were in this state when the Conde de Gondomar, for many years ambassador to England, but who had recently returned |