ing himself from
avarice and not from necessity. While keeping a certain maudlin sentiment
about his exploits and those of his followers, which manifested itself
in cruelly pathetic scenes when, as in his old age, people talked to him
of the Highlands and the Rebellion; he was wholly without any sense of
his obligation towards men who had exposed their life and happiness for
him, of the duty which bound him to repay their devotion by docility to
their advice, by sacrifice of his inclinations, or even by such mere
decency of behaviour as would spare them the bitterness of allegiance to
a disreputable and foul-mouthed sot. But, until the moment when old and
dying, he placed himself in the strong hands of his natural daughter,
Charles Edward seems to have been, however obstinate in his favouritism,
incapable of any real affection. When his brother Henry became a priest
Charles held aloof for long years both from him and from his father; and
this resentment of what was after all a mere piece of bigoted folly, may
be partially excused by the fact that the identification of his family
with Popery had seriously damaged the prospects of Jacobitism. But the
lack of all lovingness in his nature is proved beyond possibility of
doubt by the brutal manner in which, while obstinately refusing to part
with his mistress at the earnest entreaty of his adherents, he explained
to their envoy Macnamara that his refusal was due merely to resentment
at any attempted interference in his concerns; but that, for the rest,
he had not the smallest affection or consideration remaining for
the woman they wished to make him relinquish. As if all the stupid
selfishness bred of centuries of royalty had accumulated in this man
who might be king only through his own and his adherents' magnanimity,
Charles Edward seemed, in the second period of his life, to feel as
if he had a right over everything, and nobody else had a right over
anything; all sense of reciprocity was gone; he would accept devotion,
self-sacrifice, generosity, charity--nay, he would even insist upon
them; but he would give not one tittle in return; so that, forgetful of
the heroism and clemency and high spirit of his earlier days, one might
almost think that his indignant answer to Cardinal de Tenein, who
offered him England and Scotland if he would cede Ireland to France,
"Everything or nothing, Monsieur le Cardinal!" was dictated less by the
indignation of an Englishman than by the stu