a love of that display of wit then in vogue, and heightened that sense of humour which speaks forth in some of Cowley’s productions.  Few authors suggest so many new thoughts, really his own, as Cowley.  ‘His works,’ it has been said, ’are a flower-garden run to weeds, but the flowers are numerous and brilliant, and a search after them will repay the pains of a collector who is not too indolent or fastidious.’

As Cowley and his friend passed the weary hours in durance, many an old tale could the poet tell the peer of stirring times; for Cowley had accompanied Charles I. in many a perilous journey, and had protected Queen Henrietta Maria in her escape to France:  through Cowley had the correspondence of the royal pair, when separated, been carried on.  The poet had before suffered imprisonment for his loyalty; and, to disguise his actual occupation, had obtained the degree of Doctor of Medicine, and assumed the character of a physician, on the strength of knowing the virtues of a few plants.

Many a laugh, doubtless, had Buckingham at the expense of Dr. Cowley:  however, in later days, the duke proved a true friend to the poet, in helping to procure for him the lease of a farm at Chertsey from the queen, and here Cowley, rich upon L300 a year, ended his days.

For some time after Buckingham’s release, he lived quietly and respectably at Nun-Appleton, with General Fairfax and the vapid Mary.  But the Restoration—­the first dawnings of which have been referred to in the commencement of this biography—­ruined him, body and mind.

He was made a Lord of the Bedchamber, a Member of the Privy Council, and afterwards Master of the Horse,[5] and Lord Lieutenant of Yorkshire.  He lived in great magnificence at Wallingford House; a tenement next to York House, intended to be the habitable and useful appendage to that palace.

He was henceforth, until he proved treacherous to his sovereign, the brightest ornament of Whitehall.  Beauty of person was hereditary:  his father was styled the ‘handsomest-bodied man in England,’ and George Villiers the younger equalled George Villiers the elder in all personal accomplishments.  When he entered the Presence-Chamber all eyes followed him; every movement was graceful and stately.  Sir John Reresby pronounced him ‘to be the finest gentleman he ever saw.’  ‘He was born,’ Madame Dunois declared, ‘for gallantry and magnificence.’  His wit was faultless, but his manners engaging; yet his sallies often descended into buffoonery, and he spared no one in his merry moods.  One evening a play of Dryden’s was represented.  An actress had to spout forth this line—­

    ‘My wound is great because it is so small!’

She gave it out with pathos, paused, and was theatrically distressed.  Buckingham was seated in one of the boxes.  He rose, all eyes were fixed upon a face well known in all gay assemblies, in a tone of burlesque he answered—­

    ’Then ‘twould be greater were it none at all.’