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 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 so