im a saint, for he was certainly the cause of the taking of
Rochelle.

His son, Charles the Second, though he passed his youth in the school of
adversity, learned no other lesson from it than the following one--take
care of yourself, and never do an action, either good or bad, which is
likely to bring you into any great difficulty; and this maxim he acted up
to as soon as he came to the throne. He was a Papist, but took especial
care not to acknowledge his religion, at which he frequently scoffed,
till just before his last gasp, when he knew that he could lose nothing,
and hoped to gain everything by it. He was always in want of money, but
took care not to tax the country beyond all endurable bounds; preferring
to such a bold and dangerous course, to become the pensioner of Louis, to
whom, in return for his gold, he sacrificed the honour and interests of
Britain. He was too lazy and sensual to delight in playing the part of a
tyrant himself; but he never checked tyranny in others save in one
instance. He permitted beastly butchers to commit unmentionable horrors
on the feeble, unarmed, and disunited Covenanters of Scotland, but
checked them when they would fain have endeavoured to play the same game
on the numerous united, dogged, and warlike Independents of England. To
show his filial piety, he bade the hangman dishonour the corpses of some
of his father's judges, before whom, when alive, he ran like a screaming
hare; but permitted those who had lost their all in supporting his
father's cause, to pine in misery and want. He would give to a painted
harlot a thousand pounds for a loathsome embrace, and to a player or
buffoon a hundred for a trumpery pun, but would refuse a penny to the
widow or orphan of an old Royalist soldier. He was the personification
of selfishness; and as he loved and cared for no one, so did no one love
or care for him. So little had he gained the respect or affection of
those who surrounded him, that after his body had undergone an
after-death examination, parts of it were thrown down the sinks of the
palace, to become eventually the prey of the swine and ducks of
Westminster.

His brother, who succeeded him, James the Second, was a Papist, but
sufficiently honest to acknowledge his Popery, but upon the whole, he was
a poor creature; though a tyrant, he was cowardly, had he not been a
coward he would never have lost his throne. There were plenty of lovers
of tyranny in England who would