or what is the
use of being wicked if one hides one's light under a bushel?

Hamilton was a favorite with those who knew him well and was respected
by those who knew him slightly, not because of his virtues, for they were
few, but because he was strikingly handsome in person, moderately quick
of wit, generous to an enemy, kind to every one, brave to the point of
recklessness, and decent even in vice, if that be possible. He was no
better than his friends save in these easy qualities, but while he was as
bad in all other respects as his surroundings, the evil in him was due
more to environment than to natural tendencies, and the good--well, that
was his undoing, as this history will show. A man who attempts to 'bout
ship morally in too great haste is liable to miss stays and be swamped,
for nothing so grates on us as the sudden reformation of our friends,
while we remain unregenerate.

But to write Hamilton's history I must begin at the beginning, which
in this case happens to be my beginning, and shall conclude with his
"hundred to one" venture, which closed his career and mine, at least
in England.

* * * * *

The Clydes, of whom I am the present head, have always had great respect
for the inevitable and have never permitted the idealization of a
hopeless cause to lead them into trouble solely for trouble's sake. So
it was that when my father of blessed memory saw that King Charles I and
his favorites were determined to wreck the state, themselves, and their
friends, he fell ill of the gout at an opportune moment, which made it
necessary for him to hasten to Germany to take the cure at the baths.

My revered father was the twenty-second Baron Clyde, Edwin by baptism,
and I, his namesake, am, or rather was, the twenty-third and last baron
of our line, having lost my title by reason of entanglement with the
desperate fortunes of George Hamilton.

My father had been a staunch supporter of Charles I, not only because
Charles was our divinely appointed king, but also because his Majesty
was a lovable person in many respects. His misfortunes were the result
of bad advice, false philosophy, and a heart too kind. Kindliness in a
king is a dangerous virtue, and a royal conscience is like a boil on
the elbow, always in the way. Aside from his kindliness there were only
two other qualities necessary to insure King Charles I the loss of his
head, and he possessed them--stubbornness and weakness