t as noble, chivalrous, high-minded,
unfortunate princes; though, perhaps, of all the royal families that ever
existed upon the earth, this family was the worst. It was unfortunate
enough, it is true; but it owed its misfortunes entirely to its crimes,
viciousness, bad faith, and cowardice. Nothing will be said of it here
until it made its appearance in England to occupy the English throne.

The first of the family which we have to do with, James, was a dirty,
cowardly miscreant, of whom the less said the better. His son, Charles
the First, was a tyrant--exceedingly cruel and revengeful, but weak and
dastardly; he caused a poor fellow to be hanged in London, who was not
his subject, because he had heard that the unfortunate creature had once
bitten his own glove at Cadiz, in Spain, at the mention of his name; and
he permitted his own bull-dog, Strafford, to be executed by his own
enemies, though the only crime of Strafford was, that he had barked
furiously at those enemies, and had worried two or three of them, when
Charles shouted, "Fetch 'em." He was a bitter, but yet a despicable
enemy, and the coldest and most worthless of friends; for though he
always hoped to be able, some time or other, to hang his enemies, he was
always ready to curry favour with them, more especially if he could do so
at the expense of his friends. He was the haughtiest, yet meanest of
mankind. He once caned a young nobleman for appearing before him in the
drawing-room not dressed exactly according to the court etiquette; yet he
condescended to flatter and compliment him who, from principle, was his
bitterest enemy, namely, Harrison, when the republican colonel was
conducting him as a prisoner to London. His bad faith was notorious; it
was from abhorrence of the first public instance which he gave of his bad
faith, his breaking his word to the Infanta of Spain, that the poor
Hiberno-Spaniard bit his glove at Cadiz; and it was his notorious bad
faith which eventually cost him his head; for the Republicans would
gladly have spared him, provided they could put the slightest confidence
in any promise, however solemn, which he might have made to them. Of
them, it would be difficult to say whether they most hated or despised
him. Religion he had none. One day he favoured Popery; the next, on
hearing certain clamours of the people, he sent his wife's domestics back
packing to France, because they were Papists. Papists, however, should
make h