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that even the bishops would not send his proclamations to their clergy, that he came to class them with the rest of the heretics, and to rely entirely upon the slavish votaries of the Roman superstition.

The next set of remarks are introduced for the purpose of showing that Mr. Fox has gone rather too far, in stating that the object both of Charles and James in taking money from Lewis, was to render themselves independent of Parliament, and to enable them to govern without those assemblies. Mr. Rose admits that this was the point which both monarchs were desirous of attaining; and merely says, that it does not appear that either of them expected that the calling of Parliaments could be entirely dispensed with. There certainly is not here any worthy subject of contention.

The next point is, as to the sums of money which Barillon says he distributed to the Whig leaders, as well as to the King's ministers. Mr. Rose is very liberal and rational on this subject; and thinks it not unfair to doubt the accuracy of the account which this minister renders of his disbursements. He even quotes two passages from Mad. de Sevigné, to show that it was the general opinion that he had enriched himself greatly by his mission to England. In a letter written during the continuance of that mission, she says, 'Barillon s'en va, &c.; son emploi est admirable cette année; il mangera cinquante mille francs; mais il sait bien où les prendre.' And after his final return, she says he is old and rich, and looks without envy on the brilliant situation of M. D'Avaus. The only inference he draws from the discussion is, that it should have a little shaken Mr. Fox's confidence in his accuracy. The answer to which obviously is, that his mere dishonesty, where his private interest was concerned, can afford no reason for doubting his accuracy, where it was not affected.

In the concluding section of his remarks, Mr. Rose resumes his eulogium on Sir Patrick Hume,- introduces a splendid encomium on the Marquis of Montrose, brings authority to show, that torture was used to extort confession in Scotland even after the Revolution,—and

then breaks out into a high Tory rant against Mr. Fox, for supposing that the councillors who condemned Argyle might not be very easy in their consciences, and for calling those who were hunting down that nobleman's dispersed followers 'authorised assassins.' James, he says, was their lawful sovereign; and the parties in question having been in open rebellion, it was the evident duty of all who had not joined with them to suppress them. We are not very fond of arguing general points of this nature; and the question here is fortunately special, and simple. If the tyranny and oppression of James in Scotland-the unheard-of enormity of which Mr. Rose owns that Mr. Fox has understated—had already given that country a far juster title to renounce him than England had in 1688, then James was not their lawful sovereign' in any sense in which that phrase can be understood by a free people; and those whose cowardice or despair made them submit to be the instruments of the tyrant's vengeance on one who had armed for their deliverance, inay very innocently be presumed to have suffered some remorse for their compliance. With regard, again, to the phrase of authorised assassins,' it is plain, from the context of Mr. Fox, that it is not applied to the regular forces acting against the remains of Argyle's armed followers, but to those individuals, whether military or not, who pursued the disarmed and solitary fugitives, for the purpose of butchering them in cold blood, in their caverns. and mountains.

Such is the substance of Mr. Rose's observations; which certainly do not appear to us of any considerable value though they indicate, throughout, a laudable industry, and a still more laudable consciousness of inferiority, together with (what we are determined to believe) a natural disposition to liberality and moderation, counteracted by the littleness of party jealousy and resentment. We had noted a great number of petty misrepresentations and small inaccuracies; but in a work which is not likely either to be much read, or long remembered, these things are not worth the trouble of correction.

Though the book itself is very dull, however, we must say that the Appendix is very entertaining. Sir Patrick's narrative is clear and spirited; but what delights us far more, is another and more domestic and miscellaneous narrative of the adventures of his family, from the period of Argyle's discomfiture till their return in the train of King William. This is from the hand of Lady Murray, Sir Patrick's grand-daughter, and is mostly furnished from the information of her mother, his favourite and exemplary daughter. There is an air of cheerful magnanimity and artless goodness about this little history, which is extremely engaging; and a variety of traits of Scottish simplicity and homeliness of character, which recommend it, in a peculiar manner, to our national feelings. Although we have already enlarged this article beyond its proper limits, we must give our readers a few specimens of this singular chronicle.

After Sir Patrick's escape, he made his way to his own castle, and was concealed for some time in a vault under the church, where his daughter, then a girl under twenty, went alone, every night, with an heroic fortitude, to comfort and feed him. The gaiety, however, which lightened this perilous intercourse, is to us still more admirable than its heroism.

She went every night by herself, at midnight, to carry him victuals and drink; and stayed with him as long as she could to get home before day. In all this time my grandfather showed the same constant composure, and cheerfulness of mind, that he continued to possess to his death, which was at the age of eightyfour; all which good qualities she inherited from him in a high degree. Often did they laugh heartily in that doleful habitation, at different accidents that happened. She at that time had a terror for a churchyard, especially in the dark, as is not uncommon at her age, by idle nursery stories; but when engaged by concern for her father, she stumbled over the graves every night alone, without fear of any kind entering her thoughts, but for soldiers and parties in search of him, which the least noise or motion of a leaf put her in terror for. The minister's house was near the church. The first night she went, his dogs kept such a barking as put her in the utmost fear of a discovery. My grandmother sent for the minister next day, and, upon pretence

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of a mad dog, got him to hang all his dogs. There was also difficulty of getting victuals to carry him, without the servants suspecting the only way it was done, was by stealing it off her plate at dinner, into her lap. Many a diverting story she has told about this, and other things of the like nature. Her father liked sheep's head; and, while the children were eating their broth, she had conveyed most of one into her lap. When her brother Sandy (the late Lord Marchmont) had done, he looked up with astonishment and said, "Mother, will you look at Grizzel; while we have been eating our broth, she has eat up the whole sheep's head." This occasioned so much mirth among them, that her father at night was greatly entertained by it, and desired Sandy might have a share in the next.'-App. p. [v.]

They then tried to secrete him in a low room in his own house; and, for this purpose, to contrive a bed concealed under the floor, which this affectionate and light-hearted girl secretly excavated herself, by scratching up the earth with her nails, till she left not a nail on her fingers,' and carrying it into the garden at night in bags. At last, however, they all got over to Holland, where they seem to have lived in great poverty, but in the same style of magnanimous gaiety and cordial affection, of which some instances have been recited. This admirable young woman, who lived afterwards with the same simplicity of character in the first society in England, seems to have exerted herself in a way that nothing but affection could have rendered tolerable, even to one bred up to drudgery.

All the time they were there' (says his daughter), there was not a week my mother did not sit up two nights, to do the business that was necessary. She went to market; went to the mill to have their corn ground, which, it seems, is the way with good managers there; dressed the linen; cleaned the house; made ready dinner; mended the children's stockings, and other clothes; made what she could for them, and, in short, did every thing. Her sister Christian, who was a year or two younger, diverted her father and mother, and the rest, who were fond of music. Out of their small income they bought a harpsichord for little money (but is a Rucar*), now in my custody, and

* An eminent maker of that time.

most valuable. My aunt played and sung well, and had a great deal of life and humour, but no turn to business. Though my mother had the same qualifications, and liked it as well as she did, she was forced to drudge; and many jokes used to pass betwixt the sisters about their different occupations.'-p. [ix.]

Her brother soon afterwards entered into the Prince of Orange's guards; and her constant attention was to have him appear right in his linen and dress. They wore little point cravats and cuffs, which many a night she sat up to have in as good order for him as any in the place; and one of their greatest expenses was in dressing him as he ought to be. As their house was always full of the unfortunate banished people like themselves, they seldom went to dinner, without three, or four, or five of them, to share with them; and many a hundred times I have heard her say, she could never look back upon their manner of living there, without thinking it a miracle. They had no want, but plenty of every thing they desired, and much contentment; and always declared it the most pleasing part of her life, though they were not without their little distresses; but to them they were rather jokes than grievances. The professors, and men of learning in the place, came often to see my grandfather. The best entertainment he could give them, was a glass of alabast beer, which was a better kind of ale than common. He sent his son Andrew, the late Lord Kimmerghame, a boy, to draw some for them in the cellar: he brought it up with great diligence; but in the other hand the spiket of the barrel. My grandfather said, " Andrew, what is that in your hand?" When he saw it he run down with speed; but the beer was all run out before he got there. This occasioned much mirth; though perhaps they did not well know where to get more.' pp. [x. xi.]

Sir Patrick, we are glad to hear, retained this kindly cheerfulness of character to the last; and, after he was an Earl and Chancellor of Scotland, and unable to stir with gout, had himself carried to the room where his children and grandchildren were dancing, and insisted on beating time with his foot. Nay, when dying at the advanced age of eighty-four, he could not resist his old propensity to joking, but uttered various pleasantries on the disappointment the worms would meet with, when, after boring through his thick coffin, they would find. little but bones.

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