break. Scarcely had he dressed and refreshed himself, when he was summoned by Fludyer to mount and attend Lord Grey, whom the Duke had ordered, with three hundred men, to storm Bridport, while Fletcher was detached with another party on a different expedition. The little band to which Reuben now belonged stormed and took the town with great spirit, while Lord Grey deserted his men, fled back to the Duke, and reported they were defeated. Fludyer himself soon brought the news that they were victorious, and had been basely abandoned by their commander. "What shall I do with him?" said the Duke confounded. "There is not a general in Europe who would ask such a question but yourself," was the reply. Yet such was the softness and irresolution of the Duke's nature, that he continued him in his command. Fletcher, who knew their enterprise to be too perilous to admit of ceremony, had in his expedition seized for his own riding the horse of a country gentleman, which stood ready equipped for its master. Its owner, a stout yeoman, ran in a passion to the spot, saluted the pur

loiner of his steed with opprobrious language, shook his cane, and attempted to strike. "Rigid moralist as he was, Fletcher, cholerick by nature, and stung by the indignity of a cane uplifted against the soldier and the gentleman, could not command his feelings, but pulled out his pistol, and shot the man dead on the spot. A clamour was raised, the people of the country waited upon the Duke in a body to make their complaints, and he was forced to desire the only soldier, and the only man of genius in his army, to abandon him.

In spite of these discouraging circumstances his force daily increased in number, and by the time he reached Taunton, the Duke was at the head of six thousand men. Mounted on a stately charger, equipt in half-armour of polished steel, over which he wore a white scarf, with the ribbon and diamond George of the order of the Garter, his head uncovered, and his dark ringlets thrown back on either side, so as to discover the full beauty of his fine features, the Prince entered Taunton, whose inhabitants received him with enthusiasm, strewed his way

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with flowers and herbs, adorned their walls with green boughs, and threw open their houses to his army. Twenty-six young maidens presented him on their knees, a banner of their own handiwork and a bible, which he received with a kind of transport, as an omen of his future fortune; and kissing the sacred book, cried out that he came to defend the truths contained in it, or to seal them with his blood. Not less easily elated than dejected, he now proclaimed himself King, declaring Lord Albemarle, who was marching against him, as well as the whole House of Commons, traitors if they did not dissolve themselves; he ordered some mock regalia to be made, amusing himself by occasionally wearing and playing with them, and he began to touch for the King's evil; as if by thus clinging to the empty shadows of royalty, he could assure himself of its substance,

The interval that elapsed between this period and the fatal battle of Sedgemoor, constituted little better than a succession of errors, and gave Reuben abundant opportunities for observing, that although the Duke had on former

occasions afforded more than one example of a reckless valour, he was altogether deficient in those great qualities which could alone ensure a prosperous issue to so perilous an enterprise as the present. Without talent or judgment to command success, he was equally ungifted with fortitude to endure reverse; never having been accustomed to think or to act for himself, but habituated to follow the impulse communicated to him by others, he found it an intolerable effort to come to a decision upon the points that were almost hourly submitted to him, especially when he recollected the dreadful responsibility which the smallest error might entail, both upon himself and others: hence he became irresolute and procrastinating, often perpetuating old errors, lest by a change of any sort he should be committing new ones. His looks sufficiently betrayed the tumult of his soul, as he successively yielded to and struggled with his despondency, in which varying moods he betrayed the unsteadiness and frivolity of his mind, by alternately praying to Heaven for

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support, and singing amorous French songs. He asked advice of all who approached him, he called a council of his officers, and with a superstitious weakness that formed a part of his character, procured an ignorant old man to be secretly conveyed to him, who had the reputation of being a wizard, and had been tried as such forty years before, that he might consult him as to the probabilities of his success, and purchase from him a charm against danger. This ancient fortune-teller, who probably saw the desperate situation of the Duke's affairs, and had no wish to compromise himself as a traitor, refused to salute him with the title of king, though tutored to do so. "How canst thee be King of England ?” inquired the sturdy rustic; "beesn't thee the son of Lucy Walters?"

“Villain !" exclaimed Monmouth, reddening with wrath; "the son of a King requires no mother; King Charles the Second was my father."

»“Thee beest like un, and that's the truth on't," said the clown; "but thee beest vor all