at dangerous neighbour France.

Ireland was always rebellious; a mere conquered province, hating her
tyrant England's laws, religion, and people; loving Spain, and believing
herself closely allied by blood as well as sympathy to that most Catholic
land.

Scotland, on the accession of James, hastened to take possession of
England. Never in history had two races detested each other more
fervently. The leeches and locusts of the north, as they were universally
designated in England, would soon have been swept forth from the country,
or have left it of their own accord, had not the king employed all that
he had of royal authority or of eloquent persuasion to retain them on the
soil. Of union, save the personal union of the sceptre, there was no
thought. As in Ireland there was hatred to England and adoration for
Spain; so in Scotland, France was beloved quite as much as England was
abhorred. Who could have foretold, or even hoped, that atoms so mutually
repulsive would ever have coalesced into a sympathetic and indissoluble
whole?

Even the virtues of James were his worst enemies. As generous as the day,
he gave away with reckless profusion anything and everything that he
could lay his hands upon. It was soon to appear that the great queen's
most unlovely characteristic, her avarice; was a more blessed quality to
the nation she ruled than the ridiculous prodigality of James.

Two thousand gowns, of the most, expensive material, adorned with gold,
pearls, and other bravery--for Elizabeth was very generous to
herself--were found in the queen's wardrobe, after death. These
magnificent and costly robes, not one of which had she vouchsafed to
bestow upon or to bequeath to any of her ladies of honour, were now
presented by her successor to a needy Scotch lord, who certainly did not
intend to adorn his own person therewith. "The hat was ever held out,"
said a splenetic observer, "and it was filled in overflowing measure by
the new monarch."

In a very short period he had given away--mainly to Scotchmen--at least
two millions of crowns, in various articles of personal property. Yet
England was very poor.

The empire, if so it could be called, hardly boasted a regular revenue of
more than two millions of dollars a year; less than that of a fortunate
individual or two, in our own epoch, both in Europe and America; and not
one-fifth part of the contemporary income of France. The hundred thousand
dollars of Scotland's annual bud