intimately knew; and this was an acquisition of James's, so
manifest to all, that the bishop made eloquence essential to the dignity
of a monarch; observing, that "it was the want of it that made Moses, in a
manner, refuse all government, though offered by God."[A] He would
not have hazarded so peculiar an eulogium, had not the monarch been
distinguished by that talent.
[Footnote A: This funeral sermon, by laying such a stress on the
_eloquence_ of James I., it is said, occasioned the disgrace of the
zealous bishop; perhaps, also, by the arts of the new courtiers practising
on the feelings of the young monarch. It appears that Charles betrayed
frequent symptoms of impatience.
This allusion to the _stammering_ of Moses was most unlucky; for Charles
had this defect in his delivery, which he laboured all his life to
correct. In the first speech from the throne, he alludes to it: "Now,
because _I am unfit for much speaking_, I mean to bring up the fashion of
my predecessors, to have my lord-keeper speak for me in most things." And
he closed a speech to the Scottish parliament by saying, that "he does not
offer to endear himself by words, _which, indeed is not my way_." This,
however, proved to be one of those little circumstances which produce a
more important result than is suspected. By this substitution of a
lord-keeper instead of the sovereign, he failed in exciting the personal
affections of his parliament. Even the most gracious speech from the lips
of a lord-keeper is but formally delivered, and coldly received; and
Charles had not yet learned that there are no deputies for our feelings.]
Hume first observed of James I., that "the speaker of the House of Commons
is usually an eminent man; yet the harangue of his Majesty will always be
found much superior to that of the speaker in every parliament during this
reign." His numerous proclamations are evidently wrought by his own hand,
and display the pristine vigour of the state of our age of genius. That
the state-papers were usually composed by himself, a passage in the Life
of the Lord-keeper Williams testifies; and when Sir Edward Conway, who had
been bred a soldier, and was even illiterate, became a viscount, and a
royal secretary, by the appointment of Buckingham, the king, who in fact
wanted no secretary, would often be merry over his imperfect scrawls in
writing, and his hacking of sentences in reading, often breaking out in
laughter, exclaiming, "Stenny has
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