This graceful mode of making the person on whom the favour was conferred, appear to give, not to receive, the benefit, was met by Lady Churchill, according to her own account, with a sincerity which was the surest test of regard, and the proof of real gratitude.

“I both obtained and held this place without the assistance of flattery—a charm which, in truth, her (the Princess’s) inclination for me, together with my unwearied application to serve and amuse her, rendered needless; but which, had it been otherwise, my temper and turn of mind would never have suffered me to employ. “Young as I was when I first became this high favourite, I laid it down as a maxim, that flattery was falsehood to my trust, and ingratitude to my dearest friend.”[[82]]

“Well would it be for society if this maxim were universal!

“From this rule I never swerved; and though my temper and my notions in most things were widely different from those of the Princess, yet, during a long course of years, she was so far from being displeased with me for openly speaking my sentiments, that she sometimes professed a desire, and even added her command, that it should be always continued, promising never to be offended at it, but to love me the better for my frankness.”[[83]]

Consistently with this injunction, we find the Princess thus affectionately addressing her future “viceroy.”

“If you will not let me have the satisfaction of hearing from you again before I see you, let me beg of you not to call me your highness at every word, but to be as free with me as one friend ought to be with another; and you can never give me a greater proof of your friendship, than in telling me your mind freely in all things, which I do beg you to do; and if ever it were in my power to serve you, nobody would be more ready than myself. I am all impatience for Wednesday, till when, farewell.”[[84]]

The marriage of Anne was followed immediately by the execution of Lord Russell, which, with the trial and condemnation of Algernon Sidney, took place during the same month, and within five days of each other; and the populace, who had viewed with smothered indignation the sufferings of these patriots, were ready to cheer their future Princess, the Defender of their Faith. Subsequent events brought all thinking and disinterested observers to regard with hope the consistent though quiet adherence of the Princess to those principles in which her uncle Charles had from policy caused her to be nurtured; his firmness in this respect showing both the laxity of his own faith, and the paramount influence which worldly considerations had over his wavering and probably sceptical mind.

The banishment of the Duke of Monmouth from court, the execution of Sidney, the sentence of fine upon Hampden, the surrender of their charters by the corporations, and lastly, the death of Charles the Second, succeeded each other in rapid and fearful array; and a critical period to all those connected with public affairs was now drawing near. But the thoughtless life and pernicious example of the monarch who had so grossly betrayed his trust, now drew to its close; and the retribution of what are called “the pleasant vices” became more painful to the beholder from the force of contrast.

In the midst of a plan for subverting the liberties of his people, by forming a military power, to be governed solely by Roman Catholic officers, and devoted to the crown, Charles fell into despondency. His usual vivacity forsook him; and, with it, his gaiety of spirits, his politeness, in him the result of innate good-nature, deserted him. The best bred man in Europe became rude and morose. He saw indeed that the popularity which he had in the early part of his reign enjoyed, was now no longer his; he reflected that he had no son to succeed him; that he was, as far as the crown was concerned, childless. Monmouth, the child of shame, whom he had recklessly raised to honour and importance, had caballed against his father; yet that father loved him still. Monmouth had outraged the filial duties, but Charles could not eradicate from his own heart the parental affections. The unhappy King pined at the absence of his son. He perceived and dreaded the designs and principles of James, and was mortified at the court already paid to his successor. Upon some altercation between the brothers, Charles was one day heard to say, “Brother, I am too old to go to my travels a second time; perhaps you will.”[[85]]

Broken-spirited, but not reclaimed, Charles sought to console himself in the dissolute conversation of those wretched women whose society had been the chief object of his life. But even the worst of men have an intuitive sense of what is due to domestic ties; and the mind is so constituted, that transient pleasure only, and not daily comfort, is to be found in those connexions which have the troubles, without the sanctity of marriage. The Duchess of Portsmouth, who is said really to have loved Charles, was unable to console him without sending for his son. Monmouth came, and was admitted to an interview with his father; but whilst measures were being concerted for sending James again into Scotland, Charles was struck with apoplexy. He died in two days afterwards, by his last act reconciling himself to the Church of Rome, and belying all his previous professions. “He was regretted,” says Dalrymple, “more on account of the hatred which many bore to his successor, than of the love entertained to himself.”[[86]]