a fire, or to dress his food. From this new danger he at length escaped, by creeping at night down a narrow glen, the bed of a winter stream, between two of the stations. Another vicissitude in his wanderings brought him to a mountain cave, where seven robbers had taken their abode; and with these men he remained for nearly three weeks. Fierce and lawless as they were, they never thought for an instant of earning" the price of blood;" on the contrary, they most earnestly applied themselves to secure his safety and supply his wants. Sometimes they used singly, and in various disguises, to repair to the neighboring Fort Augustus, and obtain for Charles a newspaper or the current reports of the day. On one occasion they brought back to the prince, with much exultation, the choicest dainty they had ever heard of-a pennyworth of gingerbread! On leaving these generous outlaws, and after other perils and adventures, Charles effected a junction with his faithful adherents, Cluny and Lochiel, who was lame from his wound. There he found a rude plenty to which he had long been unused. "Now, gentlemen, I live like a prince!” cried he, on his first arrival, as he eagerly devoured some collops out of a saucepan with a silver spoon. For some time they resided in a singular retreat called the Cage, on the side of Mount Benalder; it was concealed by a close thicket, and half-suspended in the air. At this place Charles received intelligence that two French vessels, sent out expressly for his deliverance, under the direction of Colonel Warren, of Dillon's regiment, and with that officer on board, had anchored in Lochnanuagh. Immediately setting off for that place, but traveling only by night, he embarked on the 20th of September, attended by Lochiel, Colonel Roy Stuart, and about one hundred other persons, who had gathered at the news. was the very same spot where Charles had landed fourteen months before, but how changed since that time both his fate. and his feelings! With what different emotions must he have It gazed upon these desolate mountains, when stepping from his ship in the ardor of hope and coming victory; and now, when he saw them fade away in the blue distance, and bade them an everlasting farewell! Rapidly did his vessel bear him from the Scottish shores; concealed by a fog, he sailed through the midst of the English fleet; and he safely landed at the little port of Roscoff, near Morlaix, on the 29th of September. He went--but not with him departed his remembrance from the Highlanders. For years and years did his name continue enshrined in their hearts and familiar to their tongues; their plaintive ditties resounding with his exploits, and inviting his return. Again, in these strains do they declare themselves ready to risk life and fortune for his cause; and even maternal fondness-the strongest, perhaps, of all human feelings-yields to the passionate devotion to "Prince Charlie." "I ance had sons, but now hae nane, And I wad bear them a' again And lose them a' for Charlie!" LII. PITT AS A WAR MINISTER -MACAULAY. [The expedition of Prince Charles to Scotland had been countenanced by France, and was an episode of the war in which England, in alliance with Austria and Holland, was at that time engaged against France, Spain, and Prussia. This war, which was causeless, so far as England was concerned, was terminated by the peace of Aix la Chapelle, in 1748; but this treaty did not settle the conflicting claims of England and France in India and in America. Both in the East and in the West these two powers were striving for the mastery. In 1756 England, now in alliance with Prussia, entered into the struggle known as the Seven Years' War, and William Pitt, who, since Walpole's retirement, had risen rapidly into prominence, was summoned to conduct it. Early in 1757 he was made first secretary of state and virtually prime minister; and he guided the destinies of England through the war with signal ability and success.] PITT desired power; and he desired it, we really believe, from high and generous motives. He was, in the strict sense of the word, a patriot. He had none of that philanthropy which the great French writers of his time preached to all the nations of Europe. He loved England as an Athenian loved the city of the Violet Crown, as a Roman loved the City of the Seven Hills. He saw his country insulted and defeated. He saw the national spirit sinking. Yet he knew what the resources of the empire, vigorously employed, could effect; and he felt that he was the man to employ them vigorously. My lord," he said to the duke of Devonshire, "I am sure that I can save this country, and nobody else can." 66 Desiring, then, to be in power, and feeling that his abilities and the public confidence were not alone sufficient to keep him in power against the wishes of the court and of the aristocracy, he began to think of a coalition with Newcastle. Newcastle was equally disposed to a reconciliation. He, too, had profited by his recent experience. He had found that the court and the aristocracy, though powerful, were not every thing in the state. A strong oligarchical connection, a great borough interest, ample patronage, and secret-service money might, in quiet times, be all that a minister needed; but it was unsafe to trust wholly to such support in time of war, of discontent, and of agitation. The composition of the House of Commons was not wholly aristocratical; and, whatever be the composition of large deliberative assemblies, their spirit is always, in some degree, popular. Where there are free debates, eloquence must have admirers, and reason must make converts. Where there is a free press, the governors must live in constant awe of the opinions of the governed. Thus these two men, so unlike in character, so lately mortal enemies, were necessary to each other. Newcastle had fallen in November, for want of that public confidence which Pitt possessed, and of that parliamentary support which Pitt was better qualified than any man of his time to give. Pitt had fallen in April, for want of that species of influence which Newcastle had spent his whole life in acquiring and hoarding. Neither of them had power enough to support himself. Each of them had power enough to overturn the other. Their union would be irresistible. Neither the king nor any party in the state would be able to stand against them. The first acts of the new administration were characterized rather by vigor than by judgment. Expeditions were sent against different parts of the French coast with little success. The small island of Aix was taken, Rochefort threatened, a few ships burned in the harbor of St. Malo, and a few guns and mortars brought home as trophies from the fortifications of Cherbourg. But soon conquests of a very different kind filled the kingdom with pride and rejoicing. A succession of victories undoubtedly brilliant, and, as it was thought, not barren, raised to the highest point the fame of the minister to whom the conduct of the war had been intrusted. In July, 1758, Louisburg fell. The whole island of Cape Breton was reduced. The fleet to which the court of Versailles had confided the defense of French America was destroyed. The captured standards were borne in triumph from Kensington Palace to the city, and were suspended in St. Paul's Church amid the roar of guns and kettle-drums, and the shouts of an immense multitude. Addresses of congratulation came in from all the great towns of England. Parliament met only to decree thanks and monuments, and to bestow, without one murmur, supplies more than double of those which had been given during the war of the Grand Alliance. The year 1759 opened with the conquest of Goree. Next fell Guadaloupe; then Ticonderoga; then Niagara. The Toulon squadron was completely defeated by Boscawen off Cape Lagos. But the greatest exploit of the year was the achievement of Wolfe on the heights of Abraham. The news of his glorious death and of the fall of Quebec reached London in the very week in which the Houses met. All was joy and triumph. Envy and faction were forced to join in the general applause. Whigs and Tories vied with each other in extolling the genius and energy of Pitt. His colleagues were never talked of or thought of. The House of Commons, the nation, the colonies, our allies, our enemies, had their eyes fixed on him alone. t Scarcely had Parliament voted a monument to Wolfe, when another great event called for fresh rejoicings. The Brest fleet, under the command of Conflans, had put out to sea. It was overtaken by an English squadron under Hawke. Conflans attempted to take shelter close under the French coast. The shore was rocky; the night was black; the wind was furious; the waves of the Bay of Biscay ran high. But Pitt had infused into every branch of the service a spirit which had long been unknown. No British seaman was disposed to err on the same side with Byng. The pilot told Hawke that the attack could not be made without the greatest danger. "You have done your duty in remonstrating," an |