have stood by him, provided he would have
stood by them, and would, though not Papists, have encouraged him in his
attempt to bring back England beneath the sway of Rome, and perhaps would
eventually have become Papists themselves; but the nation raising a cry
against him, and his son-in-law, the Prince of Orange, invading the
country, he forsook his friends, of whom he had a host, but for whom he
cared little--left his throne, for which he cared a great deal--and
Popery in England, for which he cared yet more, to their fate, and
escaped to France, from whence, after taking a little heart, he repaired
to Ireland, where he was speedily joined by a gallant army of Papists
whom he basely abandoned at the Boyne, running away in a most lamentable
condition, at the time when by showing a little courage he might have
enabled them to conquer. This worthy, in his last will, bequeathed his
heart to England--his right arm to Scotland--and his bowels to Ireland.
What the English and Scotch said to their respective bequests is not
known, but it is certain that an old Irish priest, supposed to have been
a great-grand-uncle of the present Reverend Father Murtagh, on hearing of
the bequest to Ireland, fell into a great passion, and having been
brought up at "Paris and Salamanca," expressed his indignation in the
following strain:--"Malditas sean tus tripas! teniamos bastante del olor
de tus tripas al tiempo de tu nuida dela batalla del Boyne!"

His son, generally called the Old Pretender, though born in England, was
carried in his infancy to France, where he was brought up in the
strictest principles of Popery, which principles, however, did not
prevent him becoming (when did they ever prevent any one?) a worthless
and profligate scoundrel; there are some doubts as to the reality of his
being a son of James, which doubts are probably unfounded, the grand
proof of his legitimacy being the thorough baseness of his character. It
was said of his father that he could speak well, and it may be said of
him that he could write well, the only thing he could do which was worth
doing, always supposing that there is any merit in being able to write.
He was of a mean appearance, and, like his father, pusillanimous to a
degree. The meanness of his appearance disgusted, and his pusillanimity
discouraged the Scotch when he made his appearance amongst them in the
year 1715, some time after the standard of rebellion had been hoisted by
Mar. He only