k and cold, and who could not control their own vassals.

One can imagine also, with Sir Walter Scott, the haughty nobles of the
English court sneering covertly at the awkward, shambling James, pedant
and bookworm. Nevertheless, his diplomacy was almost as good as that of
Elizabeth herself; and, though he did some foolish things, he was very
far from being a fool.

In his appearance James was not unlike Abraham Lincoln--an unkingly
figure; and yet, like Lincoln, when occasion required it he could rise
to the dignity which makes one feel the presence of a king. He was the
only Stuart who lacked anything in form or feature or external grace.
His son, Charles I., was perhaps one of the worst rulers that England
has ever had; yet his uprightness of life, his melancholy yet handsome
face, his graceful bearing, and the strong religious element in his
character, together with the fact that he was put to death after being
treacherously surrendered to his enemies--all these have combined to
make almost a saint of him. There are Englishmen to-day who speak of
him as "the martyr king," and who, on certain days of the year, say
prayers that beg the Lord's forgiveness because of Charles's execution.

The members of the so-called League of the White Rose, founded to
perpetuate English allegiance to the direct line of Stuarts, do many
things that are quite absurd. They refuse to pray for the present King
of England and profess to think that the Princess Mary of Bavaria is
the true ruler of Great Britain. All this represents that trace of
sentiment which lingers among the English to-day. They feel that the
Stuarts were the last kings of England to rule by the grace of God
rather than by the grace of Parliament. As a matter of fact, the
present reigning family in England is glad to derive its ancient strain
of royal blood through a Stuart--descended on the distaff side from
James I., and winding its way through Hanover.

This sentiment for the Stuarts is a thing entirely apart from reason
and belongs to the realm of poetry and romance; yet so strong is it
that it has shown itself in the most inconsistent fashion. For
instance, Sir Walter Scott was a devoted adherent of the house of
Hanover. When George IV. visited Edinburgh, Scott was completely
carried away by his loyal enthusiasm. He could not see that the man
before him was a drunkard and braggart. He viewed him as an incarnation
of all the noble traits that ought to hedge about a