meless poet with 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 h