Dated Madrid, February 22, 1622-23.—Inedited State Papers. These praises of Lord Digby’s are borne out by other testimonies; that, more especially, of Toby Mathew, who followed the Prince into Spain, and who calls the Infanta, then in her eighteenth year, as “fair in all perfection;” her face without one “ill feature,” presenting that contour which “shews her to be highly born.” The expression of her countenance peculiarly sweet; and her figure, concealed as it was by the close ruffs and cuffs then worn by the Spanish ladies, was declared to be perfect; her head was well set upon her neck; “and so,” adds the minute observer, “are her hands to her arms; and they say that before she is dressed, she is incomparably better than after.”[386] Footnote 386: Description of the Infanta of Spain, by Toby Mathew. Dated June, 28, 1623.—Inedited State Papers. Lord Digby protested also to Charles that his future bride, as she was then esteemed, had “the fairest hand that he had ever seen, that she was very straight and well-bodied, and a likely lady to make the Prince happy.” This portraiture was calculated to increase the ardour of the thoughtful and enthusiastic Charles; whilst the character drawn of the Infanta tended to raise the sentiment of admiration into one of respect. Brought up, as Lord Digby relates, with great care, and in retirement, there might be more gravity and reserve than were usual in English ladies, in her deportment; but this was a “fault easy mended.” Having asked every possible question of her childhood and youth, the ambassador protested that “never heard he so much good of any one as of the Infanta.” To this testimony may be again added that of Toby Mathew, who portrays her so free from pride and worldliness, “that she seemed to shine from her soul through her body;” the beauty of her mind very far exceeding that of her person. Everyday this young Princess passed in prayer three or four hours, and then occupied herself in making something which might be sold for the benefit of the sick and wounded in the hospitals, or busied herself in drawing lint out of linen for their use. She spent, in her charities, a hundred pounds a month, appropriating what was allowed her for recreation to these good deeds. Each returning Wednesday and Saturday found her in the confessional, or communicating, “for she carrieth,” relates Toby Mathew, “in particular, a most tender devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, and the Immaculate Conception of our Blessed Lady.” This deep sense of her responsibilities, this earnest piety, alarmed the English Puritans, who forgot that whilst no one was more steadfast to her faith than Katharine of Arragon, there existed not a more tolerant being, as far as we have the means of judging, nor sat upon the throne of the Queen’s-Consort of England, one more beloved by all sects and classes of the people than that ill-used and ill-fated foreigner. They remembered, perhaps, that whilst the Romish persuasion