A treaty of marriage between Charles, prince of Wales, (afterwards Charles I.) and the Infanta of Spain, having been a long time in agitation, Buckingham, in 1623, persuaded Prince Charles to make a journey into Spain, and to fetch home his mistress, the Infanta, by representing to him, how brave and gallant an action it would be, and how soon it would put an end to those formalities, which, though all substantial matters were already agreed upon, might yet retard her voyage to England many months. It is suggested by Lord Clarendon, that Buckingham’s motive for this journey, was an unwillingness that the Earl of Bristol, the ambassador in Spain, should have the sole honour of concluding the treaty of marriage. However, the king was vehemently against this journey, and indeed with good reason; but the solicitations of the prince, and the impetuosity of Buckingham, prevailed.

It appears that Buckingham, during his stay in Spain, behaved with great insolence to the Earl of Bristol, the English ambassador at that court. In a letter, written by the Earl to king James, we have the following particulars:—“Let your Majesty call some certain men unto you, and sift out of them the opinion of the more moderate parliament-men; and enquire of those that come out of Spain, who did give the first cause of falling out? Whether the Duke of Buckingham did not many things against the authority and reverence due to the Prince? Whether he was not wont to be sitting, whilst the Prince stood, and was in presence; and also to have his feet resting upon another seat, after an indecent manner? Whether, when the Prince was uncovered whilst the Queen and Infanta looked out at the window, he uncovered his head or not? Whether, sitting; at table with the prince, he did not behave himself unreverently? Whether he were not wont to come into the prince’s chamber, with his clothes half on, so that the doors could not be opened to them that came to visit the prince from the king of Spain, the door-keepers refusing to go in for modesty sake? Whether he did not call the prince by ridiculous names? Whether he did not dishonour and profane the king’s palace with base and contemptible women? Whether he did not divers obscene things, and used not immodest gesticulations, and wanton tricks with players in the presence of the prince? Whether he did not violate his faith to the Duke d’Olivarez, the Spanish prime minister? Whether he did not presently communicate his discontents, offences, and complaints, to the ambassadors of other princes? Whether in doing of his business, he did not use frequent threatenings unto the catholic king’s ministers, and to apostolical nuncios? Whether he did not affect to sit at plays presented in the king’s palace, after the manner and example of the king and prince, being not contented with the honour that is ordinarily given to the high steward or major-domo of the king’s house?”

There is sufficient reason for believing, that most of these queries may be answered in the affirmative.

KING ARTHUR.

In a century (A.D. 400 to A.D. 500) of perpetual, or at least implacable war, much courage, and some skill, must have been exerted for the defence of Britain, on the departure of the Roman legions, against the Saxon invaders. Yet if the memory of its champions is almost buried in oblivion, we need not repine; since every age, however destitute of science or virtue, sufficiently abounds with acts of blood and military renown. The tomb of Vortimer, the son of Vortigern, was erected on the margin of the sea-shore, as a landmark formidable to the Saxons, whom he had thrice vanquished in the fields of Kent. Ambrosius Aurelian was descended from a noble family of Romans, his modesty was equal to his valour, and his valour, till the last fatal action, was crowned with splendid success. But every British name is effaced by the illustrious name of Arthur, the hereditary prince of the Silures, who inhabited South Wales, and the elective king or general of the nation. According to the most rational accounts, he defeated, in twelve successive battles, the Angles of the North, and the Saxons of the West; but the declining age of the hero was embittered by popular ingratitude and domestic misfortunes. The events of his life are less interesting, than the singular revolutions of his fame. During a period of five hundred years the tradition of his exploits was preserved, and rudely embellished, by the obscure bards of Wales and Armorica, who were odious to the Saxons, and unknown to the rest of mankind. The pride and curiosity of the Norman conquerors, prompted them to enquire into the ancient history of Britain; they listened with fond credulity to the tale of Arthur, and eagerly applauded the merit of a prince, who had triumphed over the Saxons, their common enemies. His romance, transcribed in the latin of Geoffrey of Monmouth, and afterwards translated into the fashionable idiom of the times, was enriched with the various, though incoherent ornaments, which were familiar to the experience, the learning, or the fancy of the twelfth century. The progress of a Phrygian colony from the Tyber to the Thames, was easily engrafted on the fable of the Æneid; and the royal ancestors of Arthur derived their origin from Troy, and claimed their alliance with the Cæsars, His trophies were decorated with captive provinces and imperial titles; and his Danish victories avenged the recent injuries of his country. The gallantry and superstition of the British hero, his feasts and tournaments, and the memorable institution of his knights of the round table, were faithfully copied from the reigning manners of chivalry, and the fabulous exploits of Uther’s son, appear less incredible than the adventures which were achieved by the enterprising valour of the Normans. Pilgrimage and the holy wars, introduced into Europe the specious miracles of Arabian magic. Fairies and giants, flying dragons, and enchanted palaces, were blended with the more simple fictions of the west; and the fate of Britain depended on the art, or the predictions of Merlin. Every nation embraced and adorned the popular romance of Arthur and the knights of the round table: their names were celebrated in Greece and Italy; and the voluminous tales of Sir Lancelot and Sir Tristram were devoutly studied by the princes and nobles, who disregarded the genuine heroes and historians of antiquity. At length the light of science and reason was rekindled; the talisman was broken; the visionary fabric melted into air, and by a natural, though unjust reverse of the public opinion, the severity of the present age is inclined to question even the existence of Arthur.

ALCHEMY.

About the year 296, the Emperor Diocletian published a very remarkable edict which instead of being condemned as the effect of jealous tyranny, deserves to be applauded as an act of prudence and humanity. He caused a diligent enquiry to be made for all the ancient books which treated of the art of making gold and silver, and without pity committed them to the flames; apprehensive, it is remarked, lest the opulence of the Egyptians should inspire them with confidence to rebel against the empire. But if Diocletian had been convinced of the reality of that valuable art, far from extinguishing the memoirs, he would have converted the operation of it to the benefit of the public revenue. It is much more likely, that his good sense discovered to him the folly of such magnificent pretensions, and that he was desirous of preserving the reason and fortunes of his subjects from the mischievous pursuit. It may be remarked that these ancient books, so liberally ascribed to Pythagoras, to Solomon, or to Hermes, were the pious frauds of more recent adepts. The Greeks were inattentive either to the use or to the abuse of chemistry. In that immense register, where Pliny has deposited the discoveries, the arts, and the errors of mankind, there is not the least mention of the transmutation of metals, and the persecution of Diocletian is the first authentic event in the history of Alchemy. The conquest of Egypt by the Arabs diffused that vain science over the globe. Congenial to the avarice of the human heart, it was studied in China as in Europe, with equal eagerness, and with equal success. The darkness of the middle ages ensured a favourable reception to every tale of wonder, and the revival of learning gave new vigour to hope, and suggested more specious arts of deception. Philosophy, with the aid of experience, has at length banished the study of alchemy; and the present age, however desirous of riches, is content to seek them by the humbler means of commerce and industry.

ACCOUNT OF SEVERAL NOBLE FAMILIES IN ENGLAND WHO OWE THEIR ELEVATION TO THE PEERAGE TO THEIR ANCESTORS HAVING BEEN ENGAGED IN TRADE.

It is a striking and peculiar feature in the constitution of England, that men who render themselves eminent in the liberal sciences, in the arts, or in commerce, frequently find their pursuits conduct them to a high degree of rank and estimation in the state; and the sovereign has, in numerous instances, conferred the honour of the Peerage on certain individuals, who have contributed by their abilities to enlarge and promote the manufactures and commerce of the nation. Among the families whose ancestors have deserved well of their country, and who owe their elevation to the Peerage to their forefathers having been engaged in trade, the following are honourable instances.

The Earls of Coventry are descended from John Coventry, son of William Coventry, of the city of that name. The former was an opulent mercer, and resided in London, of which city he was Lord Mayor in 1425, and one of the executors of the celebrated Whittington. He was a resolute and determined magistrate, and was highly commended for his spirited interference in the dreadful quarrel between Humphrey Duke of Gloucester, and the insolent Cardinal Beaufort, which he successfully quelled.