epeats
his offer of undergoing the punishment instead of the decrepid old man:
"This I will be bold to say," he adds: "I will not disgrace your
patronage by want of intrepidity in the hour of death, and that all the
devils in Milton, with all the ghastly ghosts of Scotsmen that fell at
Culloden, if they could be conjured there, should never move me to say,
coming upon the scaffold, 'Sir, this is terrible.'"[258] To Mr. Pelham
he declared, that "the post that he wanted was not of the same nature
with other Court preferments, for which there is generally a great
number of competitors, but may be enjoyed without a rival."

The observations which Lord Lovat made upon this well-meant but absurd
proposal, show his natural shrewdness, or his disbelief in all that is
good and generous. "This," he exclaimed, on being told of these
remarkable letters, "is an extraordinary man indeed. I should like to
know what countryman he is, and whether the thing is fact. Perhaps it
may be only some _finesse_ in politics, to cast an odium on some
particular person. In short, Sir, I'm afraid the poor gentleman is weary
of living in this wicked world; in that case, the obligation is altered,
because a part of the benefit is intended for himself."

In his last days, Lovat avowed himself a Roman Catholic; but his known
duplicity caused even this profession of faith to be distrusted. It is
probable that like many men who have seen much of the world, and have
mingled with those of different persuasions, Lord Lovat attached but
little importance to different modes of faith. He was as unscrupulous in
his religious professions as in all other respects. Early in his career,
he thought it expedient to obtain the favour of the Pope's nuncio at
Paris by conforming to the Romish faith. He declared to the Duke of
Argyle and to Lord Leven that he could not get the Court of St. Germains
to listen to his projects until he had declared himself a papist. One
can scarcely term this venal conversion[259] an adoption of the
principles of any church. The outward symbols of his pretended
persuasion had, however, become dear to him, from habit: he carried
about his person a silver crucifix, which he often kissed. "Observe," he
said, "this crucifix! Did you ever see a better? How strongly the
passions are marked, how fine the expression is! We keep pictures of our
best friends, of our parents, and others, but why should we not keep a
picture of Him who has done more th