e quite beyond the mark of ordinary invention. Mr. Froude
has said that only Shakespeare or Mary Stewart could have written it--at
all events the writer, supposing it to be forged, must have been of
unquestionable imaginative genius. It is one of the most wonderful
compositions ever given to the world. We look on with awe while those
dark secrets of the heart are unfolded. The revelation is too
tremendous, too overwhelming, and far too true to nature, to call forth
mere horror and condemnation. It is a proof of the often-repeated
statement that could we but see into the heart of the greatest criminal
pity would mingle with our judgment. Nothing could be more criminal and
horrible than the acts therein anticipated, yet we think it would be
impossible for any unbiassed mind to read this letter for the first time
without an increase at least of interest in the writer, so transported
by her love, ready almost to brag of the falsehood and treachery into
which it leads her, till sick shame and horror of herself breathes over
her changing mood, and she feels that even he for whose love all is
undertaken must loathe her as she loathes herself. To imagine Buchanan,
an old man of the world, somewhat coarse, fond of a rough jest, little
used to women, and past the age of passion, as producing that tragical
and terrible revelation, is almost more than impossible, it is an insult
to the reader's intelligence. And accordingly the latest writers on this
subject have relinquished that accusation; they no longer charge the old
pedagogue with such an effort of genius; they confine themselves to
accusing him of ingratitude towards his benefactress, which is as much
as to say that a little personal favour, even when well earned, is to
compel a man to shut his eyes henceforward to the character and conduct
of the person who has conferred it, and that both patriotic feeling and
political policy are to be quenched by a pension, which is a strange
view.

There can be no doubt, however, that Buchanan made out the case against
the Queen with all the rhetorical force of which he was capable; that
the accusation was bitter, as of a man who had been personally deceived
and injured, as indeed it is quite possible that he may have felt
himself to be; and that there was no pity, no mercy, nor compunction
towards her, such as arose in many men's bosoms after a little time, and
have been rife ever since both in writers and readers. The _Detection_
is wi