xiles, and some, like Lord Lovatt, had
purchased safety by dishonour, but scarcely one was to be found ready
to peril life and fortune once more in so barren an enterprise. None,
indeed, expected that 'the king should have his own again,' but many
thought that the claim of a disputed succession might be used as a
terrible agency for disturbance, and the cause of a dethroned monarch
be made an admirable rallying-point for Catholic Europe. These intrigues
were carried on in every court of the Continent, but more especially at
Rome and Madrid, between which two capitals the emissaries of the Prince
maintained a close and frequent intercourse.

With all the subtlety of such crafty counsellors, every question of
real moment was transacted in the strictest secrecy, but all trivial and
unimportant affairs were blazoned forth to the world with a degree of
display that seemed to court publicity. In this way, for instance, every
eventful era of the Stuart family was singled out for observance, and
the ceremonies of the Church were employed to give the epochs a due
solemnity. It is to an occasion of this kind we would now invite our
reader's presence--no less a one than the birthday of Charles Edward.

From an early hour on the morning of the 20th December 178--, the
courtyard of the Altieri Palace was a scene of unusual stir and
movement. Country carts, loaded with orange-trees and rare plants from
the conservatories of the princely villas around Rome, great baskets
of flowers--bouquets which had cost a twelvemonth's care to bring to
perfection--were unpacking on every side, while delicious fruits and
wines of extreme rarity were among the offerings of the auspicious
day. Servants in the well-known livery of every noble house passed and
repassed, and the lodge of the porter was besieged by crowds who were
desirous of testifying their respect for the exiled majesty of England,
even though their rank did not entitle them to be presented. The street
front of the palace was decorated with gorgeous hangings from all the
windows, some emblazoned with the armorial insignia of royalty, some
with the emblems of different orders of knighthood, and some simply with
the fleur-de-lis or the cross of St. Andrew. A guard of honour of the
Pope's Swiss stood at the gate, and two trumpeters, with two heralds in
full costume, were mounted on white chargers within the arched entrance,
ready, when the clock struck eleven, to proclaim the birthday of