He embraced the little Prince of Wales, and made the
queen seat herself in the royal state coach on the right
The cavalcade then turned toward Saint Ger-

hand.
main's.

At Saint Germain's, on the verge of a forest swarming
with beasts of chase, and on the brow of a hill which looks
down on the windings of the Seine, Francis the First had
built a castle, and Henry the Fourth had constructed a
noble terrace. Of the residences of the French kings,
none was built in a more salubrious air or commanded a
fairer prospect. The huge size and venerable age of the
trees, the beauty of the gardens, the abundance of the
springs, were widely famed. Louis the Fourteenth had
been borne there; had, when a young man, held his court
there; had added several stately pavilions to the mansion
of Francis, and had completed the terrace of Henry. Soon,
however, the magnificent king conceived an inexplicable
disgust for his birth-place. He quitted Saint Germain's
for Versailles, and expended sums almost fabulous in the
vain attempt to create a paradise on a spot singularly
sterile and unwholesome, all sand or mud, without wood,
without water, and without game. Saint Germain's had
now been selected to be the abode of the royal family of
England. Sumptuous furniture had been hastily sent in.
The nursery of the Prince of Wales had been carefully
furnished with every thing that an infant could require.
One of the attendants presented to the queen the key of a
superb casket which stood in her apartment. She opened
the casket, and found in it six thousand pistoles.

On the following day James arrived at Saint Germain's.
Louis was already there to welcome him. The unfortu-
nate exile bowed so low that it seemed as if he was about
to embrace the knees of his protector. Louis raised him,
and embraced him with brotherly tenderness. The two
kings then entered the queen's room.
"Here is a gen-
tleman," said Louis to Mary, "whom you will be glad
to see." Then, after entreating his guests to visit him
next day at Versailles, and to let him have the pleasure

of showing them his buildings, pictures, and plantations, he took the unceremonious leave of an old friend.

In a few hours the royal pair were informed that as long as they would do the King of France the favor to accept of his hospitality, forty-five thousand pounds sterling a year would be paid them from his treasury. Ten thousand pounds sterling were sent for outfit.

The liberality of Louis, however, was much less rare and admirable than the exquisite delicacy with which he labored to soothe the feelings of his guests and to lighten the almost intolerable weight of the obligations which he laid upon them. He who had hitherto, on all questions of precedence, been sensitive, litigious, insolent, who had been more than once ready to plunge Europe into war rather than concede the most frivolous point of etiquette, was now punctilious indeed, but punctilious for his unfortunate friends against himself. He gave orders that Mary should receive all the marks of respect that had ever been paid to his own deceased wife. A question was raised whether the princes of the house of Bourbon were entitled to be indulged with chairs in the presence of the queen. Such trifles were serious matters at the old court of France. There were precedents on both sides; but Louis decided the point against his own blood. Some ladies of illustrious rank omitted the ceremony of kissing the hem of Mary's robe. Louis remarked the omission, and noticed it in such a voice and with such a look that the whole peerage was ever after ready to kiss her shoe. When Esther, just written by Racine, was acted at Saint Cyr, Mary had the seat of honor. James was at her right hand. Louis modestly placed himself on the left. Nay, he was well pleased that, in his own palace, an outcast living on his bounty should assume the title of King of France; should, as King of France, quarter the lilies with the English lions; and should, as King of France, dress in violet on days of court mourning.

The demeanor of the French nobility on public occasions was absolutely regulated by their sovereign; but it was be

yond even his power to prevent them from thinking freely and from expressing what they thought, in private circles, with the keen and delicate wit characteristic of their nation and of their order. Their opinion of Mary was favorable. They found her person agreeable and her deportment dignified. They respected her courage and her maternal affection, and they pitied her ill fortune. But James they regarded with extreme contempt. They were disgusted by his insensibility, by the cool way in which he talked to every body of his ruin, and by the childish pleasure which he took in the pomp and luxury of Versailles. This strange apathy they attributed, not to philosophy or religion, but to stupidity and meanness of spirit, and remarked that nobody who had the honor to hear his Britannic majesty tell his own story could wonder that he was at Saint Germain's and his son-in-law at Saint James's.*

In the United Provinces, the excitement produced by the tidings from England was even greater than in France. This was the moment at which the Batavian federation reached the highest point of power and glory. From the day on which the expedition sailed, the anxiety of the whole Dutch nation had been intense. Never had there been such crowds in the churches. Never had the enthusiasm of the preachers been so ardent. The inhabitants of the Hague could not be restrained from insulting Albeville. His house was so closely beset by the populace, day and night, that scarcely any person ventured to visit him, and he was afraid that his chapel would be burned to the ground.† As mail after mail arrived with news of the prince's progress, the spirits of his countryinen rose higher and higher; and when at length it was known that he had, on the invitation of the Lords, and of a council of eminent Commoners, taken on himself the executive administration, a general cry of pride and joy

My account of the reception of James and his wife in France is taken chiefly from the letters of Madame de Sévigné and the Memoirs of Dangeau. ↑ Albeville to Preston, Nov. 23, Dec. 3, 1688, in the Mackintosh Collection.

rose from all the Dutch factions. An extraordinary mis sion was, with great speed, dispatched to congratulata him. Dykvelt, whose adroitness and intimate knowledge of English politics made his assistance, at such a con juncture, peculiarly valuable, was one of the embassadors; and with him was joined Nicholas Witsen, a burgomaster of Amsterdam, who seems to have been selected for the purpose of proving to all Europe that the long feud between the house of Orange and the chief city of Holland was at an end. On the eighth of January Dykvelt and Witsen made their appearance at Westminster. William talked to them with a frankness and an effusion of heart which seldom appeared in his conversations with Englishmen. His first words were, "Well, and what do our friends at home say now?" In truth, the only applause by which his stoical nature seems to have been strongly moved was the applause of his dear native coun try. Of his immense popularity in England he spoke with cold disdain, and predicted, too truly, the reaction which followed. "Here," said he, "the cry is all Hosannah to-day, and will, perhaps, be Crucify him to-morrow."*

On the following day the first members of the Convention were chosen. The city of London led the way, and elected, without any contest, four great merchants who were zealous Whigs. The king and his adherents had hoped that many returning officers would treat the prince's letter as a nullity; but the hope was disappointed. The elections went on rapidly and smoothly. There were scarcely any contests; for the nation had, during more than a year, been kept in constant expectation of

a Par

*"'Tis hier nu Hosanna: maar 't zal, veelligt, haast Kruist hem, kruist hem, zyn." "Witsen, MS. in Wagenaar, book lxi. It is an odd coincidence that, a very few years before, Richard Duke, a Tory poet, once well known, but now scarcely remembered, except by Johnson's biographical sketch, had used exactly the same illustration about James:

"Was not of old the Jewish rabble's ry,

Hosanna first, and after crucify ?"- The Review.

Dispatch of the Dutch embassadors extraordinary, Jan., 1689; Citters, same date.

liament. Writs, indeed, had been twice issued and twice recalled. Some constituent bodies had, under those writs, actually proceeded to the choice of representatives. There was scarcely a county in which the gentry and yeomanry had not, many months before, fixed upon candidates, good Protestants, whom no exertion must be spared to carry, in defiance of the king and of the lord lieutenant; and these candidates were now generally returned without opposition.

The prince gave strict orders that no person in the public service should, on this occasion, practice those arts which had brought so much obloquy on the late government. He especially directed that no soldiers should be suffered to appear in any town where an election was going on.* His admirers were able to boast, and his enemies seem not to have been able to deny, that the sense of the constituent bodies was fairly taken. It is true that he risked little. The party which was attached to him was triumphant, enthusiastic, full of life and energy. The party from which alone he could expect serious opposition was disunited and disheartened, out of humor with itself, and still more out of humor with its natural chief. A great majority, therefore, of the shires and boroughs returned Whig members.

It was not over England alone that his guardianship now extended. Scotland had risen on her tyrants. All the regular soldiers by whom she had long been held down had been summoned by James to his help against the Dutch invaders, with the exception of a very small force, which, under the command of the Duke of Gordon, a great Roman Catholic lord, garrisoned the Castle of Edinburgh. Every mail which had gone northward during the eventful month of November had carried news which stirred the passions of the oppressed Scots. While the event of the military operations was still doubtful, there were at Edinburgh riots and clamors which became more menacing after James had retreated from Salisbury. Great crowds assembled at first by night, and then by broad daylight. * London Gazette, Jan. 7, 1688.