ic men with whom he had
acquaintance in that age. (Is there ever a public man in England that
altogether believes in his party? Is there one, however doubtful, that
will not fight for it?) Young Frank was ready to fight without much
thinking, he was a Jacobite as his father before him was; all the Esmonds
were Royalists. Give him but the word, he would cry, "God save King
James!" before the palace guard, or at the Maypole in the Strand; and with
respect to the women, as is usual with them, 'twas not a question of party
but of faith; their belief was a passion; either Esmond's mistress or her
daughter would have died for it cheerfully. I have laughed often, talking
of King William's reign, and said I thought Lady Castlewood was
disappointed the king did not persecute the family more; and those who
know the nature of women may fancy for themselves, what needs not here be
written down, the rapture with which these neophytes received the mystery
when made known to them; the eagerness with which they looked forward to
its completion; the reverence which they paid the minister who initiated
them into that secret Truth, now known only to a few, but presently to
reign over the world. Sure there is no bound to the trustingness of women.
Look at Arria worshipping the drunken clodpate of a husband who beats her;
look at Cornelia treasuring as a jewel in her maternal heart the oaf her
son; I have known a woman preach Jesuit's bark, and afterwards Dr.
Berkeley's tar-water, as though to swallow them were a divine decree, and
to refuse them no better than blasphemy.

On his return from France Colonel Esmond put himself at the head of this
little knot of fond conspirators. No death or torture he knew would
frighten them out of their constancy. When he detailed his plan for
bringing the king back, his elder mistress thought that that restoration
was to be attributed under Heaven to the Castlewood family and to its
chief, and she worshipped and loved Esmond, if that could be, more than
ever she had done. She doubted not for one moment of the success of his
scheme, to mistrust which would have seemed impious in her eyes. And as
for Beatrix, when she became acquainted with the plan, and joined it, as
she did with all her heart, she gave Esmond one of her searching bright
looks: "Ah, Harry," says she, "why were you not the head of our house? You
are the only one fit to raise it; why do you give that silly boy the name
and the honour? But 'ti