books.

James is reproached for being deficient in political sagacity;
notwithstanding that he somewhat prided himself on what he denominated
"king's-craft." This is the fate of a pacific and domestic prince!

"A king," said James, "ought to be a preserver of his people, as well of
their fortunes as lives, and not a destroyer of his subjects. Were I to
make such a war as the King of France doth, with such tyranny on his own
subjects--with Protestants on one side, and his soldiers drawn to
slaughter on the other,--I would put myself in a monastery all my days
after, and repent me that I had brought my subjects to such misery."

That James was an adept in his "king's-craft," by which term he meant
the science of politics, but which has been so often misinterpreted in an
ill sense, even the confession of such a writer as Sir Anthony Weldon
testifies; who acknowledges that "no prince living knew how to make use of
men better than King James." He certainly foresaw the spirit of the
Commons, and predicted to the prince and Buckingham, events which occurred
after his death. When Cranfield, Earl of Middlesex, whom James considered
a useful servant, Buckingham sacrificed, as it would appear, to the
clamours of a party, James said, "You are making a rod for your own back;"
and when Prince Charles was encouraging the frequent petitions of
the Commons, James told him, "You will live to have your bellyful of
petitions." The following anecdote may serve to prove his political
sagacity:--When the Emperor of Germany, instigated by the Pope and his own
state-interests, projected a crusade against the Turks, he solicited from
James the aid of three thousand Englishmen; the wise and pacific monarch,
in return, advised the emperor's ambassador to apply to France and Spain,
as being more nearly concerned in this project: but the ambassador very
ingeniously argued, that, James being a more remote prince, would more
effectually alarm the Turks, from a notion of a general armament of
the Christian princes against them. James got rid of the importunate
ambassador by observing, that "three thousand Englishmen would do no more
hurt to the Turks than fleas to their skins: great attempts may do good by
a destruction, but little ones only stir up anger to hurt themselves."

His vein of familiar humour flowed at all times, and his facetiousness
was sometimes indulged at the cost of his royalty. In those unhappy
differences between him and his parli