'But a deputy (answered I) that represents his person.' Mais pour tout cela (dit elle) qu'est ce que vous direz?' Rien (dis je) qui ne soit digne des oreilles d'une si verteuse princesse.' Mais qu'est ce?' redoubled she. Why, then, Madam, (quoth I), if you will needs know, it shall be much to this effect: that your majesty, having given me the liberty of some freer language than heretofore, I obey the Prince his command in presenting to her his service, not by way of compliment any longer, but out of passion and affection, which both her outward and her inward beauties, the virtues of her mind, so kindled in him as he was resolved to contribute the uttermost he could to the alliance in question, and would think it the greatest happiness in the world if the success thereof might minister occasion of expressing in a better and more effectual manner his devotion to her service; with some little other such like amorous language. Allez, allez, il n'y a point de danger en tout cela (smilingly, answered she,) je me fie en vous, je me fie en vous.' Neither did I abuse her trust, for I varied not much from it in delivering it to Madam, save that I amplified it to her a little more, who drank it down with joy, and, with a low courtesie, acknowledged it to the Prince, adding, that she was extremely obliged to his Highness, and would think herself happy in the occasion that should be presented of meriting the place she had in his good Grace's affection."-Pp. 293-4.

Perhaps a more spirited and sensible letter was never written than that sent by Patrick Ruthven to Henry, ninth Percy, Earl of Northumberland, K. G.; and which, from its singular excellence, we have been induced to copy. The writer was probably the Hon. Patrick Ruthven, fifth son of William, fourth Lord Ruthven and Dirleton. He was an eminent physician; and was confined many years in the Tower of London, whence he was released in 1619; but we are not aware of the occasion of this letter to the Earl of Northumberland. His daughter married Vandyke, the well-known painter1.

My Lord,

"It may be interpreted discretion sometimes to wink at private wrongs, especially for such a one as myself, that have a long time wrestled with a hard fortune, and whose actions, words, and behaviour are continually subject to the censure of a whole state; yet not to be sensible of public and national disgrace were stupidity and baseness of mind; for no place, nor time, nor state, can excuse any man from performing that duty and obligation wherein nature hath tied him to his country and to himself. This I speak in regard of certain infamous verses lately, by your Lordship's means, dispersed abroad to disgrace my country and myself, and to wrong and stain by me the honour of a worthy and virtuous gentlewoman, whose unspotted and immaculate vertue yourself is so much more bound to

'Wood's Douglas's Peerage of Scotland, vol. i. p. 663. and Nichols' Progresses of James I. vol. i.

admire and uphold, in that having dishonourably assaulted it you could not prevail. But belike, my Lord, you dare do anything but that which is good and just. Think not to bear down these things either by greatness or denial, for the circumstances that prove them are too evident, and the veil wherewith you would shadow them is too transparent. Neither would I have you flatter yourself, as though, like another Giges, you would pass in your courses invisible. If you owe a spight to any of my countrymen, it is a poor revenge to rail upon me in verse; or, if the repulse of your lewd desire at the gentlewoman's hands hath inflamed and exasperated your choler against her, it was never known that to refuse Northumberland's unlawful lust was a crime for a gentlewoman deserving to have her honour called in question. For her part, I doubt not but her own unspotted virtue will easily wipe out any blot which your malice would cast upon it; and for me and my countrymen, know, my good Lord, that such blows as come in rime, are too weak to reach or harm us. I am ashamed, in your Lordship's behalf, for these proceedings, and sorry that the world must now see how long it hath been mistaken in Northumberland's spirit; and yet who will not commend your wisdom in chusing such a safe course to wrong a woman and a prisoner? the one of which cannot, and the other, by nature and quality of the place, may not, right his own wrongs. Wherefore, (setting aside the most honourable Order of the Garter, and protesting that whatsoever is here said is no way intended to the nobility and gentry of England in general, which, I doubt not, but will condemn this your dishonourable dealing, and for which both myself and, I dare truly say, all my countrymen, shall be even as ready to sacrifice our bloods as for our own mother Scotland), I do, not only in regard of our own persons, affirm, that whatsoever in those infamous verses is contained, is utterly false and untrue, and that yourself hath dealt most dishonourably, unworthily, and basely, but this I'll ever maintain. If these words sound harshly in your Lordship's ear, blame yourself, since yourself, forgetting yourself, hath taught others how to dishonour you; and remember, that though nobility makes a difference of persons, yet injury acknowledgeth none.

"PATRICK RUTHVEN."-Pp. 328-9.

The lovers of the fine arts can scarcely fail to be interested in the following extract from a letter to Sir Henry Wotton, at Venice, to the Duke of Buckingham, dated 12th December, 1622; and which exhibits the favourite in the character of a virtuoso.

"Now touching your Lordship's familiar service, (as I may term it), I have sent the compliment of your bargain upon the best provided and best manned ship that hath been here in a long time, called the Phoenix; and indeed the cause of their long stay here hath been for some such sure vessel as I might trust, about which, since I wrote last to your Lordship, I resolved to fall back to my first choice. as now the one piece is the work of Titian, wherein the least figure, viz. the child in the virgin's lap playing with a bird, is alone worth the price of your expense for all four, being so round that I know

not whether I shall call it a piece of sculpture or picture, and so lively that a man, would be tempted to doubt whether nature or art hath made it. The other is of Palma; and this I call the speaking piece, as your Lordship will say it may well be termed, for, except the damosel brought to David, whom a silent modesty did best become, all the other figures are in discourse and action. They come both distended in their frames, for I durst not hazard them in rowls, the youngest being twenty-five years old, and therefore no longer supple and pliant. With them I have been bold to send a dish of grapes to your noble sister, the Countess of Denbigh, presenting them first to your Lordship's view, that you may be pleased to pass your censure whether Italians can make fruits as well as Flemings, which is the common glory of their pencils.”—P. 365.

Wotton adds, that he had also sent

"the choicest melon seeds of all kinds, which his Majesty doth expect, as I had order both from my Lord of Holderness and from Mr. Secretary Calvert "-P. 366.

The second part of the volume relates almost exclusively to the affairs of the Low Countries, during the reign of Elizabeth; but very few passages in those letters are of sufficient value to justify their being here reprinted. Thomas Sackville Lord. Buckhurst's application to secretary Walsingham, in April, 1587, requesting that officers of ability might accompany the troops then about to be sent to Holland, is creditable to his judgment, and evinces what class of persons generally received commissions in the English army.

"And, Sir, I beseech you to send over with the said 1000 as few court captains as may be; but that they may rather be furnished with captains here, such as by their worthiness and long service do merit it, and do rather seek to shine in the field with vertue and valiance against the enemy, than with gold lace and gay garments in court at home, leaving their charge and soldiers here without leading them, and yet can be content to fill their purses with the Queen's pay, without doing the service for the which they are hired, which I assure you is a woefull thing to be suffered."-P. 13.

It is well known to all who are conversant with topographical works, that many of them contain early letters of very considerable importance; but of which the class of society termed "general readers" are in complete ignorance. From these sources we shall occasionally extract such as possess claims to a more extended notice, under the impression that we may gratify numerous individuals, who would never have sought them in their present resting-places, and enable the world at large to form a more just opinion of the learning and research which so many of our local historians have brought to the execution of one of the most laborious and ill-rewarded, but useful, branches of literature.

By every antiquary the "History of Hallamshire" is as highly appreciated for its various other merits as for the valuable original correspondence which Mr. Hunter has introduced; selections from which we shall proceed to lay before our readers. As the period to which they refer relates to part of the time of which the history is illustrated by at least a third of the pages of the "Cabala," and as many of the individuals alluded to in that work form the subject of the following correspondence, a more fitting opportunity could scarcely be found for the purpose.

One section of the "History of Hallamshire" contains seventynine letters, all written between 1552 and 1619, and others are interspersed amongst the narrative of the volume. They are for the most part selected from the private correspondence of members of the house of Talbot, and many of them were written during the period in which the Queen of Scots was living in close confinement under the care of the head of that great family. They are therefore either the productions of the most eminent persons of the age, or they contain historical notices of those persons. Some of them are letters of the Queen of Scots herself, there first given to the public; and in proof of the utility of thus calling the attention of our readers to their existence, it is sufficient to state, that we have seen historical treatises on the reigns of Elizabeth and James, published since the appearance of that work, the writers of which were evidently unacquainted with the letters in question; and we have had what even professed to be a life of the Queen of Scots, by one to whom these documents were unknown, and who was also unaware of the new lights which are thrown on several points of the history of the long imprisonment of Mary, in Mr. Hunter's work.

A few of those letters were transcribed from originals in public depositaries at Paris and in London; but most of them were taken from the originals which were in possession of a Mr. Wilson, a country gentleman, who died above fifty years ago, who, we have heard, rescued them from the fire, to which a non-antiquarian steward of a former Duke of Devonshire, at Hardwick, had condemned them.

Each of these documents was addressed to the celebrated Countess of Shrewsbury, who built the house at Hardwick, and who was one of the most remarkable females of Elizabeth's reign. She was successively the wife of Sir William Cavendish, Sir William Saint Loe, and of George Earl of Shrewsbury; and survived her last husband, who died in 1590, seventeen years; but living at the head of a numerous and powerful family, she maintained to the last the great ascendancy she had acquired in the county of Derby.

We have a curious but somewhat doting and foolish letter of Sir William Saint Loe, addressed to this lady, in which he men

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tions an anecdote of Queen Elizabeth, which shows the terms of familiarity on which she lived with those about her. The Quene, yesterday, her owne seylff, rydeing upon the waye, craved my horse, unto home I gave hym, resevyng openlye for the same manye goodlye wordes." A little while after he fell into her displeasure: The Quene hath fownde greatt fawt wyth my long absens, sayeng sche wolde talck wyth me farder, and that sche wolde well chyde me. Whereunto I anseryd, thatt when her hyghnes understode the trawth and the cawse sche wold nott be offendyd. Whereunto sche sayed, Verye well, very well.' Howbeytt hand of hers dyd I not kysse." Sir William Saint Loe was the captain of the Queen's guard, and was at one period of his life employed in the public service in Ireland. We have a characteristic letter of the Earl of Ormond, written from Dublin, wherein, after expressing his desire to be where the Queen is, he says, "But seing my fortune is to be heare, I wold God wold put in the Quene's head to mak you tread a boge near ous agayn:" and he annexed this postscript, "I pray you let me be hartely commended to your sister, if a man may presume to send commendasions into the privy chamber."

In 1568 Sir William was dead, and his widow had become Countess of Shrewsbury. In that year, also, the Queen of Scots sought refuge in England.

In the month of October the determination had been taken to keep the Queen of Scots in restraint in England; and it must have been a subject of anxious deliberation in Elizabeth's council, to whom such a perilous charge should be entrusted. From one of the letters in this collection it appears, that two inferior persons, Gates and Vaughan, were, about this time, soliciting to have the custody of her. But beside that it was requisite to consult the honour of the Queen, a sovereign princess by birth, the dowager of France, and the presumptive heiress to the English crown, it was also necessary to secure the services of some person in this important trust who had a residence which could receive the Queen, and a suitable train of attendants. Elizabeth perhaps showed her sagacity by selecting the Earl of Shrewsbury, in whom all the qualities met that seemed to be required for the occasion; and who entered fully into the spirit of the motto of his house,

"The Talbot ever true and faithful to the crown."

Two letters occur addressed by the Earl to his Countess, in that critical period of his life when the announcement was made to him of the Queen's intention, the first intimation of which was conveyed to him by the Queen herself. He was with the court at Hampton, and, one morning, finding Elizabeth at leisure in the garden, he gave her thanks for some little kindness she had