bassador's satisfaction, but desired his mother—who had by this time repented of her past misdoings—to write to Henry in his name, Dec. 12.'that not only he would meet, and commune with and visit the King of England, but also would love his Grace better than any man living next himself, and would take his part in his person, and within his realm, against all living creatures.' The council had made difficulties, but he would not listen to them. His uncle had only to settle, by his own convenience, the time and place of meeting, and on his part there should be no failure.[1] The language was as warm as could be desired; and though past failures must have forbidden Henry to be sanguine, he showed no signs of suspicion. It was possible that the happy change was at last approaching; and in a letter to James himself he expressed his confidence that his nephew's words and doings would at last be found conformable; in which case, he said, 'you shall in fine reign in such honour, and govern your realm in such quiet, as shall be correspondent to our desire, and for your renown and glory.'[2]
Had the confidence been justly grounded, the reign of James V. would have been as fertile in utility as, in fact, it was fertile in folly and sin. He would have saved Scotland from a century of wretchedness, and his daughter and his daughter's grandson from the scaffold. Leaning to England, he would have learnt to feel like