weaker; it is true that the camp repudiated by him was the
conquering camp, and the camp adopted by him, the conquered; it is true
that by his treason he lost everything--his political privileges and his
domestic hearth, his title and his country. He gained nothing but
ridicule, he attained no benefit but exile. But what does all this
prove?--that he was a fool. Granted.

Plainly a dupe and traitor in one. Let a man be as great a fool as he
likes, so that he does not set a bad example. Fools need only be civil,
and in consideration thereof they may aim at being the basis of
monarchies. The narrowness of Clancharlie's mind was incomprehensible.
His eyes were still dazzled by the phantasmagoria of the revolution. He
had allowed himself to be taken in by the republic--yes; and cast out.
He was an affront to his country. The attitude he assumed was downright
felony. Absence was an insult. He held aloof from the public joy as from
the plague. In his voluntary banishment he found some indescribable
refuge from the national rejoicing. He treated loyalty as a contagion;
over the widespread gladness at the revival of the monarchy, denounced
by him as a lazaretto, he was the black flag. What! could he look thus
askance at order reconstituted, a nation exalted, and a religion
restored? Over such serenity why cast his shadow? Take umbrage at
England's contentment! Must he be the one blot in the clear blue sky! Be
as a threat! Protest against a nation's will! refuse his Yes to the
universal consent! It would be disgusting, if it were not the part of a
fool. Clancharlie could not have taken into account the fact that it did
not matter if one had taken the wrong turn with Cromwell, as long as one
found one's way back into the right path with Monk.

Take Monk's case. He commands the republican army. Charles II., having
been informed of his honesty, writes to him. Monk, who combines virtue
with tact, dissimulates at first, then suddenly at the head of his
troops dissolves the rebel parliament, and re-establishes the king on
the throne. Monk is created Duke of Albemarle, has the honour of having
saved society, becomes very rich, sheds a glory over his own time, is
created Knight of the Garter, and has the prospect of being buried in
Westminster Abbey. Such glory is the reward of British fidelity!

Lord Clancharlie could never rise to a sense of duty thus carried out.
He had the infatuation and obstinacy of an exile. He contented himself