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 provided me with a secretary who can neither write nor read, and a groom of my bedchamber who cannot truss my points,”—­this latter person having but one hand!  It is evident, since Lord Conway, the most inefficient secretary ever king had—­and I have myself seen his scrawls—­remained many years in office, that James I. required no secretary, and transacted his affairs with his own mind and hand.  These habits of business and of study prove that James indulged much less those of indolence, for which he is so gratuitously accused.

* * * * *

HIS WIT.

Amid all the ridicule and contempt in which the intellectual capacity of James I. is involved, this college-pedant, who is imagined to have given in to every species of false wit, and never to have reached beyond quibbles, puns, conceits, and quolibets,—­was in truth a great wit; quick in retort, and happy in illustration; and often delivering opinions with a sententious force.  More wit and wisdom from his lips have descended to us than from any other of our sovereigns.  One of the malicious writers of his secret history, Sir Anthony Weldon, not only informs us that he was witty, but describes the manner:  “He was very witty, and had as many witty jests as any man living:  at which he would not smile himself, but deliver them in a grave and serious manner.”  Thus the king was not only witty, but a dextrous wit:  nor is he one of those who are recorded as having only said one good thing in their lives; for his vein was not apt to dry.

His conversations, like those of most literary men, he loved to prolong at table.  We find them described by one who had partaken of them: 

“The reading of some books before him was very frequent, while he was at his repast; and otherwise he collected knowledge by variety of questions, which he carved out to the capacity of different persons.  Methought his hunting humour was not off, while the learned stood about him at his board; he was ever in chase after some disputable doubts, which he would wind and turn about with the most stabbing objections that ever I heard; and was as pleasant and fellow-like, in all these discourses, as with his huntsman in the field.  Those who were ripe and weighty in their answers were ever designed for some place of credit or profit."[A]