Lady Villiers had the discernment to perceive the deficiencies of her son’s mind and character, and resolved to avail herself of those advantages with which he was endowed, without forcing his attention to pursuits that were ungenial to him. She soon discovered that he was neither inclined to reflection, nor disposed to study; nor did he ever alter in those respects, but continued, through life, illiterate, a defect which his readiness in some measure supplied, but which prevented his becoming a great statesman, in spite of the fairest opportunities that ever man enjoyed. In after life he learned, when at Court, “to sift and question well,”[26] and to supply his own shallow stock of information by “drawing or flowing unto him” the best sources of experience and knowledge in others. His manner, says Sir Henry Wotton, was so sweet and attractive, “in seeking what might be for the public or his own proper use, that if the Muses favoured him not, the Graces were his friends;” and Lord Clarendon remarks of Villiers, that “concerning the traits and endowments of his mind, if the consideration of learning extend itself not further than drudgery in books, the Duke’s employment forbids us to suspect him of being any great scholar; but if a nimble and fluent expression and delivery of his mind (and his discourse was of all subjects) in a natural and proper dialect be considered, he was well lettered.”[27] Footnote 26: Reliquiæ Wottonianæ. Footnote 27: Disparity between Robert Davereux, Earl of Essex, and the Duke of Buckingham, by Lord Clarendon.