The daily morning journal and courier., 1895-06-21

l
 England. Awful, mysterious, this re-
 markable woman went on her fearful
 way through history. A player with
 life, gambler with fate, by a series
 of unprecedented misfortunes. by the
 almost uncouceivable recklessness of
 her folly, she went from the white
 throne and lilies of France, down to
 the black scaffold of FotherinSay.
 The turbulent and romantic career
 of Mary was typical of the lives of
 her descendants. Witty, graceful
 handsome, brave, they yet proved but
 poor kings, their lives and reigns being
 alike unhappy. Once they lost their
 kingdom through the impolite meas
 ures of the fated Charles. England re-
 gained by his elder son, it was destined
 that his younger son should be the last
 Of the Stuart kings to wear it's crown.
 In James we find mingled the most
 unhappy traits of the race. With that
 self-satisfled assurance that persistent cy which so often characterizes weak
 men in high places, he blundered blind
 ly on in policy ruinous to himself and
 to his people. A morbid and self-oon- ceited man, he was unable to distin- guish between belief and bigotPy, reig- ious duty and religious fanaticism. He
 tried to force upon his nation an un- welcome religion and failed. The day
 at last came when even he could see | that he was no longer a king. Ills courtiers and councillors had fled, his
 army and navy had declared for the | enemy, his son-in-law was invading the
 kingdom, his daughters had left him. | My God" he cried in the first agony
 of desola ton, enough that my sol- diers have forgotten their prince, my | people, their king, but oh, beyond all
 this, my children forget their father" | Pitiful indeed Is the figure of the last of
 the Stuart kings fleeing in a common
 fishing boat, from the land which had once been his.
 | And now we come to a group of three
 united by the similarity of their un-
 merited distresses and known to his- i tory under the significant obloquy of
 the title "Pretenders." Driven from l the throne of their fathers, exiles in l foreign country, the vivaeity of their youth was wasted in the futile attempts
 to recover their sovereignty; their old age in the bitterness of despair.
 The first of the Pretenders. the Chew alier de St. George, too greatly resem- bled his moody father to be an inspir- l ing leader to the Jacobite party. He was naturally of an unhappy disposi- | tion, and under the influence of that | series of disappointments which attend ed him from the cradle to the grave soon lapsed unto a state of torpid mel l ancholy.
 His two sons, Charles and Henry, were the last of the Stuarts. What ter rible law of retribution is that, illus trated again and again in history, by which the last and worthiest of a royal line are visited with the sins of all their ancestors? These princes pos sessed but few of the worst traits and many of the best. The patience, the fortitude, the inspiring courage of Charles, the pety and benevolence of Henry, have gone far toward removing the stains from the Stuart name. And yet their lives were miserable ship wrecks, distressing record of personal afiiiction, of faithless friends, of trust misplaced of affection wasted, of crushing sorrow and disappointment; tossed, beaten, buffeted by the world, embittered with the knowledge of ex- perience, their lives were a chaos of confusion and woe, from which one found relief in the church, the other only in the oblivion of death.
 Through Charles for a time the hope of the Stuarts was revived. At the age of twenty-five, tired of waiting for help from evaslve European monarchs, regardless of the failure of father and grandfather he started out to conquer his birthright. At the outset he was unfortunate enough to lose his equip- ment, but against all advice, pushed on in his desperate course, landing in Scotland with seven men in the mad attempt to conquer three kingdoms Almost as if by magic, his enthusiasm and bravery won him an army. The Scots rushed to arms for their bonnie Prince Charlie" Popular, adored, he dressed himself in a plaid and march, ing along by the side of his Scotch sol diers, tried to lose his foreign air and to learn the rough Gaelic tongue and customs. His march through Scot land was a triumphal procession. At | Hollywood, the cradle and palace of his ancestors, was held great ball Here danced to the old Scotch tunes the | prince and people, who were so soon to go down to ruin together.
 The little Scotch army with it's anti quated weapons won two battles | against the English and marched far | on into England. At last, taxed be- | yond endurance, 1t turned to retreat. | At Culloden it met British army vast { ly superior Time and time again the | ragged Scots charged upon the regulars | with the vehemence of despair, but fell | to the ground before the enemy's line | in rows three and four deep, their | deaths an eternal mark of Scottish love and loyalty.
 Soon all was over The Stuart cause was lost forever. Culoden was the last chapter. By series of miracles Charles escaped from the land it had | been his dream to conquer. Let us leave him here. What need to speak of | the follies in which broken man plunged to drown his grief?
 To-day in the Church of St. Peters at Rome, the symbol and centre of that re- ligion for which they suffered so much, may be seen the tomb of the last of the Stuarts. Even in death they are pursued by that mockery which was their lot in life. As if by irony of fate, we find engraved upon the marble of