THE

EDINBURGH LITERARY JOURNAL;

OR,

WEEKLY REGISTER OF CRITICISM AND BELLES LETTRES.

No. 85.

sant.

SATURDAY, JUNE 26, 1830.

LITERARY CRITICISM.

The Life of King James the First. By Robert Chambers, Author of "The History of the Rebellions in Scotland," &c. 2 vols. Constable's Miscellany, vols. LV. and LVI. Edinburgh. Constable and Co. 1830. THE leading characteristic of this work is, that it abounds in light and amusing reading. Mr Chambers, yielding to the natural bent of his own mind, has not indulged in much profound thinking or comprehensive views, but is, as usual, anecdotal, chit-chatty, and pleaHe avowedly makes no attempt to write history, and his biographical researches are as much directed toward the illustration of peculiar traits of character, and of the antiquated manners of the times, as to the developement, upon wider and more philosophical principles, of the mental constitution of individuals, and the relative position of states, parties, and opinions. Mr Chambers fills up a useful department in literature, and contents himself with gaining some distinction in it, rather than aiming, perhaps unsuccessfully, at a higher rank. He does not rear the solid fabric which constitutes in itself the memorial of past centuries, but he contrives to clear away many of the defacing symptoms that have gathered on its surface, and, like Old Mortality, brings out into distincter relief the inscriptions originally written there. Mr Chambers is an indefatigable antiquarian, and delighted with all the little bits of lore which antiquarianism affords. His chief pleasure, indeed, is to present us with little glimpses of the olden day, many of which are in themselves insignificant, but which, following each other in close succession, make the picture complete, and carry us away from the smooth-faced present to gaze upon the stern and rugged aspect of the past.

James the Sixth was a weak good-natured man. With the pardonable partiality of a biographer, our author has endeavoured to claim for him a higher character; but it won't do. From his birth James was of a rickety and ungainly person, and the awkwardness of his physical frame seems to have communicated a similar awkwardness to his mind. Not that he was deficient in the more common endowments of intellect on the contrary, we believe him to have become, at an early age, what the Scotch emphatically call an "auld-farrant" boy, and as he grew up, though his ideas came slowly, and often confusedly, and were seldom of a high and kingly cast, he nevertheless displayed sagacity, and not unfrequently, when his own time was given him, a good deal of penetration also. He was, moreover, of a docile and placable disposition: his resentments were seldom of long continuance, and as his measures were never very decided or energetic, so his actions were seldom liable to much cavilEng or obloquy. But, from his very infancy, he was a mere tool in the hands of others. During his boyhood Buchanan tyrannized over him with all the stern tyranmy of a cold-hearted pedagogue, who fancies that, by unemitting severity, he will prove himself a noble instance of inflexible independence, and gratifies his own paltry

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vanity at the expense of all the best affections of our nature. In his youth he was for many years the unyielding prey of contending factions, who made the possession of his person an excuse for governing the kingdom precisely in that mode which was most conducive to their own individual interests. With his spirit thus broken, his manhood thus cowed, his free thoughts thus obliterated, he at last took his seat on the Scottish throne, and as he regarded this as only one step towards the more enviable throne of the whole island, he sneakingly forced himself to fawn to, and temporize with, Elizabeth, on whom much of his future fortunes depended, even although that sovereign had worked his mother nearly all her woe, and at length sullied her high name with the murder of that unhappy lady. On his accession, James, fortunately for himself, found England in complete repose, and having dozed away the remaining years of his life, he died lamented, because, during the whole of his career, he had never done any thing that was either eminently right or egregiously wrong. In short, he was a king without the spirit of a king. He was a douce honest man, indifferently well skilled in Greek and Latin, a faithful husband, and a true believer in witchcraft. It was better for his own happiness that he possessed not one tithe of his mother's genius or energy, for in his own country the times were stormy and troublesome, and had he ventured forth into the blast, he would have been, like her," a reed shaken by the wind." Being much more willing to yield than to struggle, he escaped many dangers, and passively filled up the purposes for which he was created.

There are but few important incidents in the life of James, and his biographer consequently works at considerable disadvantage. The raid of Ruthven is the first event of an interesting nature which occurs; and after the dissolution of the Earl of Arran's government, little interrupted the ordinary course of Scotch politics for several years except the king's trip to Denmark on the occasion of his marriage. Between the years 1590 and 1603, the turbulent machinations of Bothwell, and that curious affair, the Gowrie Conspiracy, were what principally interfered with the domestic happiness of the monarch. Aided by the recent publications of Mr Pitcairn, Mr Chambers has been enabled to give a full and satisfactory account of the transactions in Gowrie House, and succeeds (if we had entertained any doubts on the point before) in establishing the reality of all the details of that hasty and ill-contrived plot. In subsequently describing James's progress from Edinburgh to London, our author evidently feels himself much at home, and enters with all the minuteness of the old Chronicles into the ceremonials, feastings, and rejoicings of that occasion. The existence and discovery of the gunpowder treason is the most prominent event in James's English reign, and the chapter, in the second volume, devoted to it, we consider one of the best in the whole work. The story is told simply, yet with much graphic power. In both volumes there is, as we have already said, a great abundance of amusing matter; but the fault of the book is unquestionably the too great love which it displays of small

facts and mere gossip. Instead of presenting us with a clear and accurate estimate of the precise state of England, both in its domestic and foreign relations at the time of James's accession, Mr Chambers prefers telling us that duels were very frequent, favouring us with all the particulars of several, or rejoices in describing at full length the carousings which took place on the occasion of the visit of the King of Denmark to his brother of EngBut it is needless to find fault with a man's na

land. ture.

Mr Chambers is not a Hume nor a Robertson, he is a pleasant and popular writer.

We now proceed to do our author the justice, and afford our readers the gratification, of a few interesting extracts. They are not made at random, as reviewers sometimes say their extracts are, but are selected with some care, as favourable specimens of Mr Chambers's labours. The following passage places in a strong, though almost ludicrous, point of view, the insolence of the Scottish clergy, and the inefficiency of the king, in the year 1587—the year of Mary's execution:

A SCENE IN THE HIGH CHURCH AFTER THE DEATH OF MARY.

"As soon as James learned that they had been unsuccessful, and that the death of his mother seemed to be sealed, he called back his ambassadors, and as the last resource within his power, appointed a prayer to be said for her by the clergy. The form of this prayer was the simplest possible; That it might please God to illuminate her with the light of his truth, and save her from the apparent danger wherein she was.' Yet, because she was a Catholic, and because the Scottish clergy feared every thing in the shape of a set prayer, as tending to invade their precious privilege of moralizing on the time' in their extempore effusions, they universally refused to perform this little office of humanity for a fellow-creature in unexampled distress, at once insulting their sovereign and human nature. James, touched in his innermost heart by their unkindness, appointed Patrick Adamson, archbishop of St Andrews, distinguished as one of the most learned scholars and best poets of his time, to preach on the 3d of February in the principal church of the capital, and to remember the queen in his prayers. The king probably thought that he might at least have the appointed office performed in the church where he himself usually sat; yet, even in this object, an attempt was made by the clergy to disappoint him.

with their favourite divine. James was so indignant at
their conduct, as to rise up and cry, What devil ails the
people, that they will not tarry to hear a man preach? But
few of the nobility and gentry. Adamson now got into the
they all went out, leaving only himself, his courtiers, and a
pulpit, and preached an eloquent, and, at the same time,
most inoffensive discourse, from a text in Timothy, enjoin-
ing Christians to pray for all men.
When he was done,
James was under the necessity of conveying him to the pa
lace with his own guard, to save him from the vengeance of
the crowd which left the church in his train, was that after-
the multitude. Cowper, who had preached elsewhere to
noon imprisoned, by order of the Privy Council, in Black-
ness; while two other ministers of Edinburgh, for insolent
language used at his examination, were deposed temporarily
from their offices. A more unhappy instance is not upon
record, of the cheap boldness displayed by the early Scotch
preachers; for here their war is not altogether against the
authority of their sovereign, which forms so specious an ex-
best and most generally recognised of the natural affections."
cuse for them in so many other instances, but against the

Our next extract contains an attempt, and, on the whole, a fair one, on the part of his biographer, to rescue James from the charge of overweening superstition:

JAMES'S BELIEF IN WITCHCRAFT.

"One of the most prominent charges brought against the intellect of King James, is his belief in witchcraft; and an allusion to his famous book on Demonology, is a favourite way of pointing an epigrammatic sentence against him. Many who never read his book, take it upon them, from the changed opinions of the age regarding witchcraft, to sneer at him for giving his countenance to so base a superstition. But how easy it is for a small mind, amidst the means and appliances of a late age, to assume a superiority and shadows of a former and darker time! over the picture of a great one struggling with the sloughs

"The true way of considering the case is this. There are some matters of opinion, in which no mind is in advance of its age. Witchcraft was one of these till within the last hundred years. It is quite observable that all the best informed intellects, both in Scotland and England, sanctioned that superstition, down to the time of the Revolution. The cause is the same with that which renders a great mind equally capable of religious fervour with the meanest and most confined. Wherever it is looked upon as "There was something ludicrous in the scene which took a duty to exempt any thing from the ordinary modes of place in the High Church in consequence of this insolence; reasoning, then no wonder that all kinds of intellect at least, it appears ludicrous in the eyes of a different age. alike receive it without hesitation. Such was the case When the king entered his seat, he found the pulpit possessed, not by his complying friend the archbishop, but by thing in the religious creeds of all orders of the people; with witchcraft about 200 years ago; it was an essential a pert young coxcomb of the name of Cowper, who was not yet invested with the orders of a clergyman, but who, acto deny it was blasphemy, or at least disrespect for the dicta cording to the licentious custom of the Scottish church in of Scripture. Surely it is a very strange thing that a man, that age, was nevertheless permitted to exercise his func-good Christian, according to the views entertained of that who fulfilled in his life and opinions the whole idea of a tions, and even to take a part in the regular routine of du- character in his own time, should, at the distance of 200 ties in the principal church of Edinburgh. Seeing that an insult was intended, but at the same time willing to avoid years, have so much discounted from his merit on one hand a collision with men whom he had so much reason to fear, for superstition, so much on another for ignorance, and thus James called out, Master John,' (the usual way of desig- originally a very good repute! be left with a miserable fragmentary reversion of what was nating a clergyman in his time,) that place was destined for another; you must come down.' Cowper answered that he had come prepared to preach, it being his ordinary day, and, if it were his majesty's will, he would fain do God's work.' The king replied, I will not hear you this day: I command you to come down, and let Mr Patrick Adamson come up and preach.' Still Cowper parlied for permission to remain where he was, till at last the king goodnaturedly said, 'that since he was there, he might go on, provided he would obey the charge, and pray for his mother. To this Cowper replied, that he would do as the Spirit of God should direct him;' when James, well knowing what effects would result from such a pseudo inspiration, peremptorily commanded him to descend. moment, the king's guard advancing to enforce his orders, At that Cowper gave a thump on the pulpit with his fist, and told the king that that day should witness against him in the great day of the Lord." He then descended, exclaiming, in the true style of a Presbyterian seer of the time, Woe be to thee, O Edinburgh, for the last of thy plagues shall be worse than the first! The people, who were in the habit of paying a sincere and senseless regard to every thing which fell from their preachers, uttered a loud and universal howl at this denunciation, and rose up to leave the church along

But while James merits this general exculpation from the charge of undue superstition, the Dæmonologie' which cular one. he compiled on the subject is in itself a very strong partisupposed, a treatise written as a piece of special pleading, to This work is by no means what is generally prove the existence of witchcraft, and to impress that belief the play of a scholarly mind on a subject much beneath it; more firmly on the public mind. It is a sort of jeu d'esprit, and instead of being an argument all on one side, it is a witchcraft, and one who does believe in it; and rather a dialogue between a person who is unwilling to believe in else. statement of all the reasons pro and con, than any thing There is much piety in the book, much quotation of the writer evidently believes in the pseudo art which forms Scripture, much acute and sensible observation ; but though the subject of the treatise, and gives the last word on all that the result of the whole is to give a mean view of the occasions to the dialogist who believes in it, I cannot allow intellect of the writer, or to entitle him to the sneers which are so frequently aimed at him by modern writers, and by others who are totally unacquainted in general with the real nature of what they are professing to despise."

There is something primitive and yet affecting in the

"These unpleasant circumstances, joined to the pains of various acute diseases, seem to have nearly broken the formerly serene temper of the king; and he is said, by Wilson, to have given way, at this time, to the following, among other instances of ill humour. It being one day necessary to refer to some papers of importance relating to his negotiations with Spain, which had not been for some time in his hands, he set himself to recollect where, or in whose hands, he had deposited them; but, probably, from the distempered condition of his mind, was unable for a long while to come to any conclusion regarding them. At length, it struck him that he had given the papers to John "Walton, in his Life of Dr Donne, relates a delightful Gib, one of his old Scotch servants. Gib, however, denied

To these extracts, we subjoin a few miscellaneous anecJotes :

The more of Mrs Hemans's poetry we can transfer to our own pages, the more valuable we must make them. The following poems speak for themselves, and need no words of praise to introduce them :

having ever received them. The king stormed at this, and of externa lbeauty, a state of feeling which gives stapersisted in asseverating that Gib must have them; whichbility and intensity to the natural gentleness of woman's caused the man to throw himself at his Majesty's feet, and character, and establishes all that is virtuous within the offer himself for immediate death in the event of its being shrine of all that is lovely. Many of the bright and nofound that he had told an untruth. James not only disregarded the asseveration, but was actually provoked, in the ble daughters of our land will, in their own chambers, or beat of the moment, to give Gib a kick in passing. On beneath the glad shadow of their ancestral trees, hang this the servant rose up, with dignified and just anger, and over these "Songs of the Affections," and imbibe the pure said to the king, "Sir, I have served you from my youth, sentiments which they teach, until their own nature beand you never found me unfaithful; I have not deserved gins to assimilate itself to hers who thus pours forth porthis from you, nor can I live longer with you with this tions of her spirit to soften and refine, calling out the hiddisgrace fare-ye-well, sir; I will never see your face more.' And accordingly he left the royal presence, took horse for den excellencies of a thousand hearts, as the light of mornLondon, and was soon far on his way. This unhappy af-ing opens up the leaves of flowers. fair was no sooner talked of in the court, than it came to the ears of Endymion Porter, another of James's confidential servants, who, immediately recollecting that the king had given him the papers, went and brought them to his Majesty. The behaviour of the monarch, on discovering his mistake, showed that a generous nature was at the bottom of all his absurdities. He immediately called for Gib. Answer was made that he had gone to London. Then let him be overtaken, and called back with all expedition,' cried the king, for I protest I shall never again eat, drink, or sleep, till I see him again.' Gib being accordingly brought back, James knelt down upon his knees before him (credite, posteri!) and, with a grave and sober face,' as Wilson relates the story, entreated his pardon, declaring he should not rise till he obtained it.' Gib, put to shame by this strange reversal of postures, endeavoured to raise his master; but James would, upon no account, rise till he heard the words of absolution pronounced.' It is added, that he made Gib no loser by the temporary demis sion of his place. Could any thing give a more humiliating view of the character of the monarch?"

THIS is a volume full of the beautiful thoughts of a truly elegant and superior mind. To enter, at this time of day, into any exposition of the genius of Felicia Hemans, would be a work of most immense supererogation. Her name and writings are now familiar every where; and as long as exquisite sensibility, the most delicate refinement, and the richest fancy, continue to be qualities which command our love and admiration, so long will the authoress of the "Voice of Spring," and the "Treasures of the Deep," continue to enjoy the reputation which is now her own.

The "Songs of the Affections" consist of a great variety of miscellaneous poems, most of which have already appeared in print in different publications. Among these, we are proud to rank the Literary Journal, and have pleasure in seeing ourselves alluded to in the volume before us, though but in a foot-note; for it is an honour to have our name linked in any way with that of Mrs HeThis lady enjoys the distinction of never writing any thing that is not read with pleasure. It seems to be impossible for her to produce a poem that is positively dull, or even indifferent. Every addition she makes to her book, is an additional gem more or less brilliant. She is, in an especial manner, the poetess of the female heart,

mans.

of all its loftiest and purest affections, unalloyed by any of that false glitter which deludes the senses, and enervates instead of elevating. She is, in an especial manner, the poetess of the household hearth-of home-of all those endearing associations, which render domestic life the happiest life of all,-the only life worth seeking for. She is, in an especial manner, the poetess of truth, of tenderness, and of high morality,-of a state of feeling beyond that of mere tumultuous love, or passionate appreciation

PARTING WORDS.

One struggle more, and I am free.

BYRON.

"Leave me, oh! leave me!-unto all below
Thy presence binds me with too deep a spell;
Thou mak'st those mortal regions, whence I go,
Too mighty in their loveliness-farewell,

That I may part in peace!

"Leave me !-thy footstep, with its lightest sound,
The very shadow of thy waving hair,
Wakes in my
soul a feeling too profound,
Too strong for aught that loves and dies, to bear-
Oh! bid the conflict cease!

"I hear thy whisper-and the warm tears gush
Into mine eyes, the quick pulse thrills my heart;
Thou bid'st the peace, the reverential hush,
The still submission, from my thoughts depart;
Dear one! this must not be.

"The past looks on me from thy mournful eye,
The beauty of our free and vernal days;
Our communings with sea, and hill, and sky-
Oh! take that bright world from my spirit's gaze!
Thou art all earth to me!

"Shut out the sunshine from my dying room,
The jasmine's breath, the murmur of the bee;
Let not the joy of bird-notes pierce the gloom!
They speak of love, of summer, and of thee,

Too much-and death is here!

"Doth our own spring make happy music now,
From the old beech-roots flashing into day?
Are the pure lilies imaged in its flow?
Alas! vain thoughts! that fondly thus can stray
From the dread hour so near!

"If I could but draw courage from the light
Of thy clear eye, that ever shone to bless!
-Not now! 'twill not be now!-my aching sight
Drinks from that fount a flood of tenderness,
Bearing all strength away!

"Leave me!-thou com'st between my heart and heaven!
I would be still, in voiceless prayer to die!
Why must our souls thus love, and then be riven?
-Return! thy parting wakes mine agony!
-Oh, yet awhile delay!"

SONG OF EMIGRATION.

"There was heard a song on the chiming sea,
A mingled breathing of grief and glee;
Man's voice, unbroken by sighs, was there,
Filling with triumph the sunny air;
Of fresh green lands, and of pastures new,
It sang, while the bark through the surges flew,

"But ever and anon

A murmur of farewell
Told, by its plaintive tone,

That from woman's lip it fell.

"Away, away o'er the foaming main !'
-This was the free and the joyous strain-