degrading excess. His want of all sense of fitness appears as clearly in his teaching Swift, then an enthusiastic young scholar whose thoughts and hopes were of religion and of books, how to cut asparagus in the Dutch fashion and "eat it economically with the stalks," as in his offering him a captaincy of horse.
Too often has the story of his greedily pouring the whole dish of peas on to his plate when the Princess Anne was still unserved been told. And after all, it may seem petty to dwell on such small matters; nor is it generally considered in the best taste to admire and visit a man's house, as we visit Hampton Court, and then take away his character. But it is high time that William III. should be judged on his merits; and when we have considered his most prominent characteristics, and have remembered that not one single famous saying has been attributed to him—"he spoke seldom, and that with a disgusting dryness," as Burnet says—may we not reasonably ask if he is to be considered a hero? There is such a thing as debasing the moral currency, and it is a fault that historians are very often guilty of; and it may be well that, when we examine a man's works, we should form a true estimate of himself. The character of the Dutch sovereign is admirably illustrated by the details of the negotiations for his marriage. When Lord Ossory first suggested the marriage to him, he gave an undecided answer; a careful reader of the judicious Von Ranke would discover the reason. He had recently been told by his friends in England that they would exclude the Duke
