all the apprehensions he had then upon him, he shewed
a temper so careless, and so much turned to levity,
that he was then diverting himself with little houshold
sports, in as unconcerned a manner, as if he had made
no loss, and had been in no danger at all. He
got at last out of England. But he had
been obliged to so many, who had been faithful to him,
and careful of him, that he seemed afterwards to resolve
to make an equal return to them all: And finding
it not easy to reward them all as they deserved, he
forgot them all alike. Most Princes seem to have
this pretty deep in them; and to think that they ought
never to remember past services, but that their acceptance
of them is a full reward. He, of all in our age,
exerted this piece of prerogative in the amplest manner:
For he never seemed to charge his memory, or to trouble
his thoughts, with the sense of any of the services
that had been done him. While he was abroad at
Paris, Colen, or Brussells, he
never seemed to lay any thing to heart. He pursued
all his diversions, and irregular pleasures, in a
free carrier; and seemed to be as serene under the
loss of a Crown, as the greatest Philosopher could
have been. Nor did he willingly hearken to any
of those projects, with which he often complained
that his Chancellor persecuted him. That in which
he seemed most concerned was, to find money for supporting
his expence. And it was often said, that, if
Cromwell would have compounded the matter,
and have given him a good round pension, that he might
have been induced to resign his title to him.
During his exile he delivered himself so entirely
to his pleasures, that he became incapable of application.
He spent little of his time in reading or study, and
yet less in thinking. And, in the state his affairs
were then in, he accustomed himself to say to every
person, and upon all occasions, that which he thought
would please most: So that words or promises
went very easily from him. And he had so ill an
opinion of mankind, that he thought the great art
of living and governing was, to manage all things
and all persons with a depth of craft and dissimulation.
And in that few men in the world could put on the appearances
of sincerity better than he could: Under which
so much artifice was usually hid, that in conclusion
he could deceive none, for all were become mistrustful
of him. He had great vices, but scarce any vertues
to correct them: He had in him some vices that
were less hurtful, which corrected his more hurtful
ones. He was during the active part of life given
up to sloth and lewdness to such a degree, that he
hated business, and could not bear the engaging in
any thing that gave him much trouble, or put him under
any constraint. And, tho’ he desired to
become absolute, and to overturn both our religion
and our laws, yet he would neither run the risque,
nor give himself the trouble, which so great a design
required. He had an appearance of gentleness in