Chapter X · (continued 2)

FOURPENNY PIECE OF JAMES II.

To this precious cabal was added Father Petre, the Jesuit Provincial, brother of Lord Petre, and the organ of the Jesuits at Court. The Pope, too, had his agents at Court, Adda, his nuncio, and a vicar-apostolic; but these advocated cautious measures, for Innocent XI. had a difficult card to play in the Popedom. Louis, the greatest of the Catholic kings, was the most dangerous enemy of the temporal power of the Pope, as of every other temporal power, and the Jesuits were all at variance with him, because he leaned toward the Jansenist party, which at this time was in the ascendency, through the triumphant attacks on the Jesuits by Pascal in his "Lettres Provinciales." The Jesuits, on the contrary, advocated all James's views. These generally subtle men seemed driven, by their falling estimation all over Europe, to clutch at a hope of power in England, and they had at all times been famed for their sly policy of insinuation rather than for their caution and moderation when successful. For their high-handed proceedings they had then, as they have since, been driven again and again from almost every Christian country. They did not display more than their ordinary foresight in the affairs of James.

But we should not possess a complete view of the position and character of James's Court if we did not take in a few other actors—the French king's agents, and the king's mistresses. To Barillon, who had so long been ambassador at the English Court, and the agent of Louis's bribes, the French king had sent over Bonrepaux; and whilst Barillon attached himself to Sunderland and the secret Catholic cabal, Bonrepaux devoted his attentions to Rochester and his section of the ministry, so that Louis learned the minutest movements and opinions of both parties. These parties, in their turn, made use of the king's mistresses; for James, although in disposition the very opposite of Charles, was, with all his morose profession of zealous piety, just as loose in his adulteries.

FIVE-GUINEA PIECE OF JAMES II.

With the aid of the Council of his Catholic cabal, James now began in earnest to put down Protestantism in this kingdom, and restore Romanism. As there was no hope of money from Parliament, he made his peace with the King of France, stooped his shoulder to the burden, and became once more a servant unto tribute. He abandoned all the best interests of England, apologised to Louis for having received the Huguenots, and took measures to defeat the very subscription in their favour which he had commenced and recommended. He arrested John Claude, one of the refugees who had published an account of the persecutions of the Huguenots by Louis, and caused his book to be publicly burnt. In spite of this and his open discouragement, the subscription amounted to forty thousand pounds, but he took good care that the unfortunate Huguenots should never get the money, by ordering every one who applied for it to first take the Sacrament according to the Anglican ritual, which he knew differed so much from their own mode, as to form an effectual bar, which it did. And this was the man who complained of the Test Act as a violation of conscience. He had himself dispensed with this Act in defiance of the law, but he now sought to obtain a sanction from the judges for the breach of the Act. To Parliament he durst not appeal; he therefore called on the twelve judges to declare that he possessed this dispensing power as part of his prerogative. The judges to a man refused; he dismissed them and appointed more pliant ones. But the law officers of the Crown were equally stubborn. Sawyer, the Attorney-General, told the king that he dared not do it, for it was not to abolish a statute, but the whole statute law from the accession of Elizabeth. Sawyer was too useful to be dismissed, but Heneage Finch, the Solicitor-General, was turned out, and Powis, a barrister of no mark, was put in his place. A case was immediately tried in the Court of King's Bench, to obtain the judges' sanction. Sir Edward Hales was formally prosecuted for holding a commission in the army, being a Catholic; but the Lord Chief Justice, Sir Edward Herbert, took the opinion of the new judges upon it, which was, that the king possessed the power to dispense with the Act, and judgment was given accordingly. No sooner was James in possession of this decision of the King's Bench, than he appointed the four Catholic lords of his secret cabal members of the Privy Council—namely, Arundel, Bellasis, Powis, and Dover.

Having perpetrated this daring act in the Council, James hastened to exercise the same power in the Church. Encouraged by the known opinions and intentions of the king, several clergymen who had outwardly conformed to the Church of England and held livings, now threw off the mask and proclaimed themselves of the Catholic Church, and applied to James to authorise them still to hold their livings. These were Obadiah Walker, Master of University College, Oxford; Boyce, Dean, and Bernard, fellows of different colleges; and Edward Sclater, curate of Putney and Esher. The king granted them dispensations to hold their livings, despite their avowed conversion to the doctrines of another Church, on the plea that he would not oppress their consciences. But to support men in holding livings in a Church which they had abandoned was so outrageous a violation of that Church's conscience, that it was impossible long to be submitted to. James, in his very contracted mind, imagined that, because the bishops and ministers had so zealously advocated absolute submission to his will, they would practise it. How little could he have read human nature. Of these sudden converts, Sclater and Walker as suddenly reconverted themselves at the Revolution.

James having now his hand in, went on boldly. He had permitted professed converts to Catholicism to retain their Protestant livings, he next appointed a Catholic to a Church dignity. John Massey, a Fellow of Merton, who had gone over to Rome, was, in violation of every local and national statute, appointed Dean of Christ Church. Massey at once erected an altar and celebrated Mass in the cathedral of Christ Church, and James told the Pope's nuncio that this should soon be the case in Cambridge. It remained now only to fill the sees of the Church with Catholic bishops as they fell vacant; and to enable him to do that, it was necessary, in the first place, to possess himself of a power in the Church like that which he had assumed in the State. He must have a tribunal before which he could summon any refractory clergy, as he could now by his pliant judges control any appeal to the bench. He therefore determined to revive the Court of High Commission, that terrible engine of the Tudors and the Stuarts, which the Long Parliament had put down. This court had power not only to cite any clergyman before it who dared to preach or publish anything reflecting on the views or measures of the king, but "to correct, amend, and alter the statutes of the universities, churches, and schools," or where the statutes were bad to make new ones, and the powers of the Commission were declared to be effectual for these purposes, "notwithstanding any law or statute to the contrary." In fact, all the powers of the High Commission were revived, and the old device and motto were adopted on the seal.

WINDSOR CASTLE, FROM THE BROCAS.

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This was a direct and daring declaration of war on the Church. The Act of Supremacy was thus turned against it, and every clergyman, professor, and schoolmaster, from the Primate to the simple curate and tutor, was laid at the mercy of this insane tyrant. The alarm of the whole Court and country when this outstanding fact was made known, was indescribable. The staunchest courtiers trembled at the temerity of the monarch: the French ministers and the Jesuits alone applauded. The new and terrible power of the tribunal was quickly brought into play. The Commission was made known about the middle of July, and seven commissioners were named. At their head stood Jeffreys, who was now to display his truculent spirit in the character of a Grand Inquisitor. The six other commissioners were Archbishop Sancroft, Bishops Crewe of Durham and Sprat of Rochester, Lords Rochester, Sunderland, and the Chief Justice Herbert. Sancroft excused himself from acting on the plea of ill-health, and James in anger immediately ordered him to be omitted in the summons to the Privy Council, saying, if his health were too bad to attend the Commission, it was equally so to attend the Council, and Cartwright, Bishop of Chester, was put on the Commission in his stead. These pliant Churchmen and courtiers were quickly shown what work they had to do. Amongst the clergymen who had ventured to preach against the Roman Church, and to reply to the attacks which the Romish preachers were now emboldened to make on the Anglican Church, beginning at Whitehall itself, Sharp, Dean of Norwich, and one of the royal chaplains, had been honest enough to defend his own faith, and expose the errors of Rome, in a sermon at his own Church of St. Giles's-in-the-Fields. Compton, the Bishop of London, was immediately called upon by Sunderland to suspend him. But Compton, though he had lately fallen under the royal displeasure for opposing James's designs in the House of Lords, and had been dismissed from the Privy Council, and from his post of Dean of the Royal Chapel, replied that he could not suspend Sharp without hearing him in his defence. Thereupon Compton was at once summoned before the new Commissioners. He demurred, declared the Court illegal, that he was a prelate, and amenable only to his peers in the Church, or, as lord of Parliament, to his peers in Parliament. Consenting, however, at length to appear, he was abruptly asked by Jeffreys why he had not suspended Sharp. Compton demanded a copy of the Commission, to see by what right they summoned him. This roused the base blood of Jeffreys, who began to insult the prelate, as he had done many a good man before, declaring that he would take another course with him; but the rest of the Commissioners recalled the brutal bully to a sense of the respect due to the bishop. After the hearing of the case, Rochester, Herbert, and Sprat declared for his acquittal; but James, enraged at his Treasurer, vowed if he did not give his vote against Compton, he would dismiss him from his office. The place-loving minister gave way. Compton was suspended from his spiritual functions, but dared the Court to touch his revenues; and the Chief Justice warned James that did he attempt to seize them, he would be defeated at common law. For awhile, therefore, James was obliged to restrain his proceedings till, as he resolved, he had put the laws more completely under his feet.

But enough had already been done to produce a change such as never had been seen in England since the days of Queen Mary. Encouraged by the king's countenance and proceedings, the Catholics now openly set at nought all the severe laws against them, their chapels, and priests. Though it was still death by the law for any Romish clergyman to appear in England, and all meetings of Catholics for worship were forbidden under the severest penalties, the streets now swarmed with the clergy in full canonicals, and Popish chapels were opened in every part of the kingdom. The Protestant public gazed in astonishment at sights which neither they nor their fathers had beheld in England. The frieze cowls, and girdles of rope, crosses, and rosaries, passed before them as apparitions of an almost fabulous time. James threw open the old chapel at St. James's, where a throng of Benedictine monks located themselves. He built for himself a public chapel at Whitehall, and induced Sandford, an Englishman, but the envoy of the Prince Palatine, to open a third in the City. A brotherhood of Franciscans established themselves in Lincoln's Inn Fields; another of Carmelites appeared in the City; a convent was founded in Clerkenwell, on the site of the ancient cloister of St. John, and a Jesuit church and school were opened in the Savoy, under a rector named Palmer.

The same ominous change appeared all over the country, especially in those districts where Catholics were numerous. But neither in town nor country were the common people disposed to see the whole empire of Popery thus restored. They assembled and attacked the Catholics going into their chapels, insulted them, knocked down their crosses and images, and turned them into the streets. Hence riots ran high and fiercely in London, Worcester, Coventry, and other places. The Lord Mayor ordered the chapel of the Prince Palatine in Lime Street to be closed, but he was severely threatened by the king and Jeffreys. The mob then took the matter into their hands; they attacked the chapel at high Mass, drove out the people and priests, and set the cross on the parish pump. It was in vain that the train bands were ordered out to quell the riot; they refused to fight for Popery.

But this spirit, which would have caused a wiser monarch to pause, only incensed James, and he assembled an army of thirteen thousand men on Hounslow Heath to overawe the City, and conveyed thither twenty-six pieces of artillery, and ample supplies of ammunition from the Tower. But it boded little prospect of support from his army that the people of London immediately fraternised with it, and the camp became the great holiday resort of all classes, resembling, in the strange concourse of strange characters who appeared there, Schiller's description of the camp of Wallenstein. James, however, was proud of his army, and flattered himself that from his having formerly been a general in the French service, he could command it to some purpose. But there were as clever tacticians as himself at work. He allowed Mass to be publicly celebrated in the tent of Lord Dumbarton, the second in command, and this, with the known fact that many officers were Catholics, and the sight of priests and friars strolling about amongst the tents, roused the zeal of Protestant patriots. Foremost amongst these was Dr. Samuel Johnson, who had been chaplain to Lord William Russell, and was a man of liberal ideas of government, and a sturdy champion of Protestantism. In the last reign he had written a severe satire on James, under the title of "Julian the Apostate," in which he drew a vigorous parallel between the Roman apostate and the English one. Julian, according to him, an idolater even when he pretended not to be, was a persecutor when he pretended freedom of conscience, and robbed cities of their municipal charters, which were zealous for the true faith. For this daring philippic he was prosecuted and imprisoned in the King's Bench, but this did not prevent him from still making war on the Popish prince. "Julian" Johnson, as he was called, had found, while imprisoned in the King's Bench, congenial society in the companionship of a fellow-prisoner, whose name was Hugh Speke. This man, Speke, being of a gloomy, seditious temperament, furnished "Julian" Johnson with money to print, and encouraged him by every kind of argument in endeavouring to excite in the Hounslow camp an active spirit of hostility to the Romish schemers. Thereupon Johnson wrote and published a stirring address to the soldiers, which was distributed in thousands amongst the army. There could be no mistake concerning the style of this document, even if the writer and his friend had kept their counsel, as they did not. The publication was speedily traced to Johnson, who was thereupon brought up to the bar of the King's Bench, and, after a long examination, condemned to stand three times in the pillory, to be whipped from Newgate to Tyburn, and to pay a fine of five hundred marks.

Johnson was one of those sturdy, uncompromising reformers—always found, like the petrel, just before the occurrence of a storm—who are regarded with almost more terror and aversion by men of more moderate views or weaker nerves, than by the national offenders whom they attack. When assured by the judge that he might be thankful to the Attorney-General that he had not arraigned him of high treason, he indignantly replied that he thanked him not; that he did not consider himself favoured by being degraded and whipped like a hound, when Popish writers disseminated with impunity what they pleased. This was denied by the Attorney-General and the bench; but Johnson was prepared for them, and pulling a whole mass of such publications from his pocket, which were issued by permission of the royal censor, he read their titles aloud, saying, "There, let Mr. Attorney-General now show whether he will do his duty by them." To spare the priesthood degradation in the person of Johnson, he was cited, at the command of the High Commission, before Crewe and Sprat, the royal Commissioners, accompanied by the Bishops of Rochester and Peterborough, to the chapter-house of St. Paul's, and personally degraded from his order. In having the Bible taken from him in the ceremony, Johnson shed some tears, but said, "You cannot deprive me of its blessed promises." He received two hundred and seventeen lashes in enforcing his punishment, but bore it stoutly, and declared that he could have sung a psalm had he not deemed that it might appear like bravado.

Though the clergy blamed Johnson, and stood aloof from him as a firebrand, because he preached resistance to Popery, which they were soon to do themselves, they were now loud in their pulpits in replying to its attacks, and exposing its lying legends, and its mummery of relics, its tricks of priestcraft, its denial of the Scriptures and the Cup to the laity, the celibacy of the clergy, the abuse of the confessional, and the idolatry of image worship, and prayers to saints. Distinguished amongst these declaimers were Tillotson, Tenison, Stillingfleet, Sherlock, Prideaux, Wake, Atterbury, and many lesser lights in the pulpit. But this zeal was not confined to preachers, for the printing presses of the Universities were kept constantly going. The Catholics, under royal patronage, replied as actively, and the war of pamphlets and pulpits foreshadowed a war of actual arms. James, as blind to all signs of the times as his father had been, went insanely on his way, now eagerly endeavouring to convert his daughter Anne, and now as resolutely scheming to deprive his daughter Mary of the succession. In Scotland and Ireland his crusade against the constitution of the realm and the Protestant religion was equally fierce and reckless.

To Scotland James sent down orders to the Government to dispense with the test and admit Catholics to all offices, and nothing was to be published without the Chancellor's licence, so that no reflections might be made on the Catholic religion or the king's order. The Duke of Queensberry—who was Lord Treasurer, and therefore regarded as Prime Minister—though a Tory, declared that he would not undertake to do anything against the Protestant religion, but there were not wanting sycophants who were ready to attempt just what the king pleased, in the hope of supplanting Queensberry. These were Lord Perth, the Chancellor, and his brother Lord Melfort, Secretary of State. They went over to Romanism as a means of preferment, and were imitated by the Earl of Murray, a descendant of the Regent, and a member of the Privy Council. Perth opened a Catholic chapel in his house, and soon received a cargo of priests' dresses, images, crosses, and rosaries. The incensed mob attacked the house during Mass, tore down the iron bars from the windows, chased the worshippers from their shrine, and pelted Lady Perth with mud. The soldiers were called out, and considerable bloodshed followed. James, irritated instead of being warned, sent down orders to punish the rioters severely, to screen the Catholics from penalties, and to renew the persecution of the Covenanters with all rigour. Alarmed at these insensate commands, three members of the Privy Council—the Duke of Hamilton, Sir George Lockhart, and General Drummond—hastened up to London to explain to James the impossibility of enforcing them, but made no impression.

On the 29th of April the time arrived for the meeting of the Scottish Parliament, when a letter from James was read calling on the Estates to pass a Bill freeing the Catholics from all penalties; but so far from the Parliament accepting such a proposition, the Lords of the Articles, whose business it was to introduce the propositions for new measures, and who had been chosen by James himself, declined to comply with the proposal. In vain they were urged by Perth, Melfort, and Murray; they remained refractory for three weeks, and then only dared to recommend that the Catholics should be permitted to worship in their own houses. But even this the Parliament would not consent to, and, after a week's debate, threw out even this very much modified scheme. James, who had during this discussion seen the intense anxiety in England to learn the news of the progress of the debate, perpetrated one of the most audacious acts of arbitrary power that modern times have witnessed. He sent for the mail bags from the North regularly, and detained all correspondence thence till the matter was ended. No single Scottish letter was issued in London for a whole week.

When at last the news, in spite of him, burst forth amid loud rejoicings, he was enraged, but, like his father, he declared that he would do by his own royal authority what he wanted; that he had been only foolish in asking for what the Act of Supremacy gave him in Scotland as perfectly as in England. He therefore launched the bolts of his vengeance at those who had disputed his will. Queensberry was dismissed from all his offices, the Bishop of Dunkeld ejected from his see, and crowds of Papists were appointed to the posts of those who had refused to obey the royal mandate. Without the ceremony of an Act of Parliament, James proceeded to usurp the rights of boroughs, and to appoint provosts and town councillors at his will; he ordered the judges to declare all the laws against Catholics void, and announced his intention of fitting up a Roman Catholic chapel in Holyrood. These measures struck a momentary terror and deep silence into the Scottish people, but it was only the silence preceding the storm.

In Ireland James had a preponderating body of Catholics eager to receive justice and the restoration of their estates at his hands. But only a wise and cautious monarch could succeed in making decent recompense to the native Irish for their many sufferings and spoliations. Their lands, by the Act of Settlement, were for the most part in the hands of a sturdy race of Englishmen, both Episcopalians and Presbyterians, who had been placed there at successive periods, and extensively by the Commonwealth. To announce that he would repeal this Act, and reinvest the natives with their ancient demesnes, was at once to rouse to arms a body of such pluck and nerve as the Celtic race had no chance with, notwithstanding their numbers. At the news that the Act was to be revoked, and the Church and Government of Ireland to be put into the hands of Catholics, the timid English gentry fled, the trade of the island received a paralysing blow, and the sturdy Saxon population prepared not only to defend their possessions, but to exterminate, if necessary, the aboriginal tribes.

Clarendon, the Lord-Lieutenant, the brother of Rochester, the Prime Minister of England, in great alarm wrote to James, detailing the immediate effects of this announcement; but James persisted in his obstinate course. He declared that the Protestants were his enemies, and that it was necessary to fortify himself with his friends; that his father had lost his head by conceding—he should have said by conceding too late,—and that he would concede nothing. He went on putting Catholics into the Privy Council, into the corporations and the army, dismissing Protestants to make room for them. He then sent out Tyrconnel, as his unscrupulous instrument, to occupy the post already his, of head of the army; he was at the same time furnished with instructions to take virtually all the functions of government into his hands, and reduce Clarendon to a cipher. Clarendon, like all the Hydes, was meanly attached to office and its emoluments, or he would at once have resigned rather than suffer the indignity of beholding his office usurped by a bullying ruffian like Tyrconnel. This desperate gambler, duellist, and debauchee, soon began to talk of the Act of Settlement as a damned and villainous thing; set about remodelling the army so as to exclude all Protestants, and replace them by Catholics; officers and men of the Protestant faith were dismissed by wholesale; he was in league with the priests to drill the entire Papist population, so as to confer the whole power of the island on them, and place every Protestant throat at their mercy. In a very few weeks he had introduced two thousand Popish soldiers into the army, and gave out that by Christmas the whole of the troops would be native Catholic. In the Church and the State he pushed on rudely the same measures, and with a violence of conduct and of language which appeared more like drunken madness than anything else. Taking the cue from him, and instructed by the priests, everybody treated Clarendon with marked insult and contempt. Still clinging meanly to office, he appealed to his brother in London to obtain for him more honourable treatment, but was thunderstruck by the news that Rochester himself had been dismissed.

PARLIAMENT HALL, EDINBURGH.

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Rochester, the champion to whom the Protestants of the Anglican Church looked up for aid, had, as miserably as his brother, disgraced himself by suffering his honour to be compromised by the love of office and income. He saw the career which James was running, and which no remonstrance or popular menace could arrest, and instead of resigning with dignity when his counsels became useless, he had even flattered James with the hope of his conversion. But he did not deceive the Jesuit Cabal which surrounded and governed James. They assured the king that nothing would ever make Rochester a genuine supporter of Catholic views, and the sooner he cut himself loose from the connection the better. Accordingly, on the 19th of December, the king, with many professions of regard, took from his brother-in-law Rochester the Treasurer's staff, but softened his fall by granting him out of Lord Grey's estate lands to the yearly value of seventeen hundred pounds, and an annuity of four thousand pounds for his own life and that of his son. He was spared also the mortification of seeing his rival Sunderland invested with his office; the Treasurership was put in commission; Lord Arundel received the Privy Seal, and Bellasis was made First Lord of the Treasury, whilst Dover, a ruined gambler, and Godolphin received places at the board.

The fall of Clarendon followed rapidly on that of Rochester. On the 8th of January, 1687, he received the order to resign his post to Tyrconnel. Such was the panic at this news, that no less than fifteen hundred families of gentlemen, merchants, and tradesmen, are said to have fled from Dublin to England in a week, and a reign of terror commenced all over Ireland. The known intentions of the king, and the character of his Lord-Lieutenant, were the signals for proscription to all Protestants, and they were turned out of the army, the offices of State, from the bench, and the magistracy, with an indecency which astonished the moderate Catholics themselves. Law and justice appeared to be at an end. The worst passions of a population long loaded with every species of injustice were let loose, and the once dominant race now saw themselves the objects of unconcealed hatred and recrimination. The wild population drove off their cattle, set fire to their houses, and the newly-raised soldiery devoted themselves with the gusto of vengeance to pillaging, murdering, and outraging the Protestant settlers with a frightful exultation.

Such were the ominous circumstances under which the year 1687 opened. By driving from him his relatives, the Hydes, James had severed the last ties between him and Protestantism; had demolished the last guarantees of Protestant security. The whole Protestant public, and many of the more clear-sighted Catholics, looked forward with an awful sense of impending mischief, and they were only too correct in their apprehensions.

James was determined to push forward his schemes for the restoration of Romanism in defiance of every long-cherished prejudice of the people, and of every constitutional principle. Besides the conversions which interest had made amongst the courtiers, there were a few other persons of more or less distinction who for royal favour had apostatised, but the number was most insignificant. The Earl of Peterborough, and the Earl of Salisbury—the descendant of Cecil, Elizabeth's minister,—had embraced Catholicism, and amongst literary men some half dozen. There were Wycherley, the obscene dramatist, Haines, a low comedian, and Tindal, who afterwards became a professed deist; but the most remarkable and deplorable instance was that of the poet Dryden. Dryden had sufficiently degraded his fine talents by plays and other compositions which could not be read now without a blush; but his compliance with the impure taste of the age had not enriched him. He enjoyed a pension of one hundred pounds a year from Charles, but that expired with Charles, and James, on renewing it, withdrew the usual butt of sack which accompanied it. After that no further notice was taken of the poet who had rendered such services to the royal cause, and, pressed by his needs, Dryden declared himself a Papist, and was speedily rewarded by royal notice and emolument. Henceforward his pen was employed to defend the royal religion, and the most remarkable result of his labours remains in his celebrated poem of "The Hind and Panther."

Slight as were these triumphs over the steadfast minds of Englishmen, James began now to be aware that he must win over bodies which he really hated, and had hitherto persecuted with all his might, if he meant to succeed. We have had occasion to relate the horrible cruelties and sanguinary ferocity with which he had pursued the Covenanters in Scotland and the Puritans in England, but he now deemed it necessary to pretend himself their friend. The Church had so uniformly and vehemently proclaimed the doctrine of Non-resistance, that he imagined he was pretty sure of it; but in Scotland and England the Nonconformists were a numerous and sturdy race, and danger from them might be apprehended in case Romanism was too exclusively reinstated. He therefore concluded to make his approaches to this object by feigning a love of religious liberty. He commenced first in Scotland by issuing a Declaration of Indulgence, on the 12th of February, 1687, but with an avowal of absolutism and a niggardly concession of religious liberty, which were not likely to be very gratefully received by the Scots. "We, by our sovereign authority, prerogative royal and absolute power, do hereby give and grant our royal toleration. We allow and tolerate the modern Presbyterians to meet in their private houses, and to hear such ministers as have been or are willing to accept of our indulgence; but they are not to build meeting-houses, but to exercise in houses. We tolerate Quakers to meet in their form in any place or places appointed for their worship; and we, by our sovereign authority, suspend, stop, and disable all laws and Acts of Parliament made and executed against any of our Roman Catholic subjects, so that they shall be free to exercise their religion and to enjoy all; but they are to exercise in houses or chapels; and we cass, disannul, and discharge all oaths by which our subjects are disabled from holding offices."

Thus James had declared himself absolute, above all laws, and at liberty to discharge any Act of Parliament. The same breath which gave a decree of religious liberty, annihilated every other liberty, and made the whole nation dependent on the will of one man. But whilst thus sweeping away all the labours of all past Parliaments at his pleasure, he with an inconsistency which betrayed a secret feeling that the power of Parliament was not so easily set aside, even then contemplated calling Parliament together if he could have but a prospect that it would confirm what he had done in Scotland, and proposed immediately to do in England. He therefore commenced a system of what has been called "closetings." He sent for the Tory members of Parliament, who were in town, one by one, and taking them into his closet at Whitehall, tried by personal persuasions and by bribes—for though dreadfully penurious, he now all at once became liberal of promises, and tolerably liberal of money—and entreated the members to oblige him by voting for the abolition of the laws against Catholics, which he told them had been, in truth, directed against himself; and whilst he promised, he threatened, too, in case his wishes were not complied with. Whilst he made this experiment in town, the judges now on circuit were ordered to send for the members in the country to the different county towns, and use the same persuasions. The result was by no means satisfactory. If there was one feeling stronger than another which had taken possession of the public mind, it was, then and long after, that the Catholics were not to be trusted with power, and that to grant them opportunity would be to restore the horrors of Queen Mary's days. James himself met with some signal rebuffs, and in every instance he dismissed the refusers from any office that they held; amongst them Herbert, Master of the Robes, and Rear-Admiral of England.

As no good was to be obtained from Parliament, he at once prorogued it again till November, asserting that he would grant toleration on his own authority; and on the 8th of April he issued his "Declaration of Indulgence for England." This Declaration, though in not quite positive and reiterated terms, set forth the same principle of absolutism, and independence of Parliament. "We have thought fit, by virtue of our royal prerogative, to issue forth this our declaration of indulgence, making no doubt of the concurrence of our two Houses of Parliament when we shall think it convenient for them to meet." He made no secret in it of wishing to see Catholicism the religion of the land; but, as the people did not seem willing to accept it, he had resolved to give to all professions of religion the same freedom. He talked like a philosopher about the virtues and justice of entire toleration, and the impolicy as well as injustice of persecution—conveniently ignoring that his practice, whenever he had had the power, had been in direct opposition to these smooth maxims. He not only then proceeded to abolish all the penal acts which had ever been passed, giving free right of worship, public or private, to all denominations, but denounced the utmost vengeance of the laws against any one who should disturb any congregation or person in the exercise of their religion.

The substance of the Declaration was admirable; it was so because it was the Christian truth; but the deed had two defects, and they were fatal ones. It was granted at the expense of the whole Constitution; and to admit that it was valid was to abandon Magna Charta and the Petition of Right, and accept instead the arbitrary will of the monarch. The second and equally fatal objection was that every one knew, from James's practice, and his proved deceitfulness, and his obstinate persistency, that the whole was but a snare to introduce Romanism, and then tread down every other form of religion. James boasted to the Pope's nuncio that the Declaration would be a great blow, and that in a general liberty of conscience the Anglican Church would go down, for persecution of the Dissenters would then be revenged upon her, and, unsupported by the Crown, she would meet with deserved contempt. And, had the toleration been legitimately obtained and guaranteed, after the servile conduct of the Church at that time, this might have been the case. The Dissenters had every reason to be thankful for toleration. They had been trodden down by the Anglican hierarchy; they had been dragged before the arbitrary High Commission, and plundered and imprisoned at pleasure. The bishops had supported every unrighteous act against them—the Conventicle Acts, the Test Act, the Five-Mile Act, the Act of Uniformity; and now they could enjoy their property, the peace of their firesides, their liberty, and their worship in the open sight of God and man. These were great boons, and, therefore, a great number of Nonconformists expressed their gratitude for them. The Quakers in particular sent up a grateful address, which was presented by Penn with an equally warm speech; but both they and the other Dissenters restricted themselves to thanking James for the ease they enjoyed, without going into the question of his right to grant it. Some few individuals, in their enthusiasm, or worked upon by the Court, went beyond this; but the general body of the Nonconformists were on their guard, and some of the most eminent leaders refused even to address the king in acknowledgment of the boon. Amongst these were Baxter, who had been so ignominiously treated by Jeffreys; Howe, who had had to flee abroad; and Bunyan, who had suffered twelve years' imprisonment for his faith; they boldly reminded their followers of the unconstitutional and, therefore, insecure basis on which the relief rested; that a Protestant successor might come—even if before that Popery, grown strong, had not crushed them—and again subject them to the harsh dominance of the Anglican hierarchy.

No exertions were omitted to induce the Dissenters to send up addresses; and they were actively canvassed by members of their different bodies, as Carr, Alsop, Lobb, and Rosewell, the last of whom was liberated from prison for the purpose. James took care to throw all the blame of the past persecutions on the Church, which, he said, had been at the bottom of all those councils. The Church, on the other hand, deserted by the Crown, retorted the accusation, and attributed every act of persecution to the Government, to which it professed unwillingly to have submitted. Thus was seen the edifying sight of the two arch-oppressors quarrelling, and in their bitter recriminations letting out the confession that they both knew very well how base and un-Christian their conduct had been.

But there was a third party to which all alike looked with anxiety in this crisis, and this consisted of William of Orange and his wife. As Protestants, and the probable successors of James, if they approved of the Indulgence, they would greatly strengthen the king; if they disapproved of it altogether, it would give a shock to the Protestant interest in England. But William was too politic not to see all the bearings of the question, and he and the princess jointly avowed their entire approval of complete toleration of all phases of the Christian religion, but their disapproval of the illegal means by which James aimed to effect it, and of Catholics being admitted to place and power. These were precisely the views of the great majority of Englishmen; and accordingly James sank still deeper in public odium on this publication, and William and Mary rose in popularity. They seized the opportunity to organise a most powerful party in their favour, and thus pave the way to an accession to the throne, which their sagacity assured them would much sooner arrive than the natural demise of the king. Mary has been censured for so readily uniting in a plan to drive her father from the throne. So long as the policy of James promised a continuance of his power, no steps were taken by Mary to supersede him; so soon as it became evident that no earthly power, to say nothing of justice or right, could keep him on the throne, it became a mere act of prudence to take care that no alien interest usurped her own. That Mary contemplated or committed any act of personal cruelty or harshness towards her father beyond securing her succession against an intruder, remains to be shown. Her husband, with all his virtues, was not proof against allowing, if not perpetrating, questionable acts; and he had been so jealous of his dignity and power, that for years he brooded in gloomy discontent on the prospect of Mary's succession to the crown of England without his having any claim to share it, not even communicating his splenetic feeling to her. But this secret was penetrated by Burnet, explained to Mary and, through her generosity, at once the difficulty was dissipated by her engaging to admit him to a full share of her hereditary authority. From that moment William redoubled his zeal to secure the succession; but there is no question that Mary exerted her filial regard to secure her father against any personal injustice.

JOHN DRYDEN. (After the Portrait by Sir Godfrey Kneller.)

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William now despatched to England orders to his ambassador, Dykvelt, to use his endeavours to knit up the different sections of the discontented into one paramount interest in his favour. The scattered elements of an overwhelming power lay around the throne, which James, by his blind folly and tyranny, had made hostile to himself, and prepared ready to the hand of a master to combine for his destruction. Danby, who had fallen in the late reign for his opposition to the French influence, and who had been the means of uniting Mary to William, had regained extensive influence amongst both Tories and Whigs, and was driven by James into determined opposition. Halifax, who had been the chief champion of James's accession by opposing the Exclusion Bill, and whose dangerous eloquence made him especially formidable, had been dismissed and neglected by him. Finch, Earl of Nottingham, a zealous Tory and Churchman, and one of the most powerful orators of the House of Lords, he made his enemy by his dismissal of his younger brother from the post of Solicitor-General for not acquiescing in the king's dispensing powers, and by his attacks on the Church and the Constitution. The Earl of Devonshire he had managed, by imprisonment and a monstrous fine, equally to disgust; and the Earl of Bedford he had completely alienated by the execution of his son, Lord William Russell. Compton, the Bishop of London; Herbert, lately Rear-Admiral of England; Clarendon, Rochester, Lumley, Shrewsbury, had all, by a most insensate folly, been offended by dismission and private injuries. There was not a man of any talent or influence whom this fatuous tyrant had not driven from him in his obstinate resolve to set Romanism and despotism along with him on the throne, except Lord Churchill, upon whom he continued to heap favours, but who was too worldly-wise not to see that his benefactor was running headlong to ruin, and who was by no means the man to share ruin out of gratitude. Dykvelt executed his mission so well, that in four months he returned to the Hague with a packet of letters in his possession from all those noblemen, bishops, and others, including Admiral Russell, the cousin of the decapitated Lord William Russell, promising William their most enthusiastic support. From the Princess Anne, who was bound up heart and soul with Churchill and his clever wife—afterwards the celebrated Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough—her sister Mary also received the most cordial assurances that nothing should induce her to abandon her religion, or her attachment to her sister's rights.

Dykvelt returned from England on the 9th of June; and, to continue the effect produced in that country, on the 8th of August another agent in the person of General Zulestein was despatched thither. His ostensible mission was to offer an address of condolence on the death of the queen's mother, the Duchess of Modena; but his real one was to strengthen the connection with the malcontents, which he could the more unsuspectedly do from his military character, and from his having taken no particular part in diplomacy. Zulestein was completely successful; but these proceedings could not entirely escape James or his envoy at the Hague, the Catholic Marquis of Abbeville, who succeeded in getting Burnet, the active adviser of William, removed from open intercourse with the Court. But Burnet was still not far off, and through his chief counsellors, Bentinck and Halweyn, William still consulted with him on every step of the plans regarding England. James also sought to reach William through Stewart, a Scottish lawyer, who had fled from his persecutions of the Covenanters to the Hague, but who, on the appearance of the Declaration of Indulgence, most suddenly went to the king's side, in hopes of promotion. Stewart wrote a letter to Fagel, the Grand Pensionary, who had great influence with William, which he confessed was at the suggestion of the king, strongly urging him to use his power with William to persuade him to support James's act; but Fagel, with a dexterous policy, replied in another letter, stating that the prince and princess were advocates for the most ample toleration, but not for the abolition of the Test, or of any other Act having the inviolability of the Anglican Church for its object. This was calculated to satisfy the Catholics of every privilege which they could reasonably expect from the laws and the public opinion of England, whilst it fully assured the Church of its safety under William and Mary.

Every fresh movement thus contributed to strengthen the position of William, and to show to James, had he had sufficient mind to comprehend it, how completely his conduct had deprived him of the confidence of his subjects. Even the Pope took no pains to conceal how suicidal he deemed his policy. He would have sufficiently rejoiced in any rational prospect of the return of England to the Church of Rome, but he was not dull enough to imagine the sentiment of the king the sentiment of the nation; on the contrary, he was persuaded that the rash cabals of the Jesuits were inevitably hastening a crisis which must the more deeply root the Anglican antipathy to Popery. James had despatched Castlemaine as ambassador to Rome with a splendid retinue. It was not enough that this open affront was done to his country by sending a Catholic ambassador to the Pope, and in the person, too, of a man who had no distinction except the disgraceful one of having purchased his title by the prostitution of his wife; but Castlemaine was deputed to solicit a dispensation from Innocent for Father Petre to receive the Episcopal dignity, which was forbidden to a Jesuit. James contemplated nothing less than making Petre Archbishop of York, which see he kept vacant for the purpose; but the Pope was too much at enmity with the Jesuits, as well as with James for his impolitic conduct, and his alliance with the great French aggressor, to concede any such favour. Castlemaine, who was living in pomp at Rome, threatened to take his departure if this request was not granted, and Innocent only sarcastically replied by bidding him start in the cool of the morning, and take care of his health on the journey.

This discourtesy shown him by the head of that religion for which he was putting everything to the hazard, had, however, only the effect of further raising the pugnacity of James. He determined only the more to honour and exalt Popery in England. The nuncio, Adda, had been made Archbishop of Amasia—a mere title of honour, in consequence of James's desire that he should be publicly acknowledged at his Court. Hitherto both he and the Vicar-Apostolic, Leyburn, had been instructed by the Papal Court to keep a careful incognito; but James would no longer consent to this; and, accordingly, on the 1st of May, 1686, Adda had been publicly consecrated at Whitehall, by the titular Archbishop of Ireland, assisted by Leyburn, the Vicar-Apostolic. In the evening of that day the nuncio was received into the royal circle, in the queen's apartments; and James shocked and disgusted his courtiers by falling on his knees before him and imploring his blessing. It was the first time that an English Court had seen their monarch, for a very long period, doing homage at the feet of a Papal nuncio, and the effect was humiliating. On the 3rd of July the nuncio was favoured with a public reception at Windsor. He went thither attended by a numerous procession of the ministers and of officials of the Court, and was conveyed in a royal coach, wearing a purple robe, and a brilliant cross upon his breast. In his train were seen with surprise and contempt the equipages of Crewe, Bishop of Durham, and Cartwright, Bishop of Chester. The Duke of Somerset, as First Lord of the Bedchamber, was expected to introduce him; but he declined, representing the penalties to which the act would expose him. This refusal was the less expected, because he had not objected to carry the sword of State before his Majesty when the king had gone to the royal Papal chapel. James was indignant. "I thought," he said, "that I was doing you a great honour by appointing you to escort the minister of the first of all crowned heads." Somerset, moved to a firmness of demeanour and language unusual even in him, declared that he dared not break the law. James replied, "I will make you fear me as well as the law. Do you not know that I am above the law?" "Your Majesty," replied Somerset, with commingled dignity and affected humility, "may be above the law, but I am not; and I am only safe while I obey the law." The king, not used to being thwarted, much less to language of so plain a sort, turned from him in a rage, and the next day issued a decree depriving him of his posts in the Household and of his command in the Guards.

This most impolitic conduct James followed, on the 1st of February, 1687, by a still more absurd and ludicrous, but equally mischievous, reception. It was that of Cocker, an English Benedictine monk, who, being more deeply implicated in treason than his friends cared to confess, had narrowly escaped with his life in the trials of the Popish plot. This man the Elector of Cologne had appointed his Resident at the English Court—probably at the suggestion of James, and in defiance of public opinion; and James now insisted that he should receive a public introduction to Court, in the habit of his order, and attended by six other monks in a like costume. Thus James took a pleasure in violating the laws and insulting public opinion at every turn, to show that he was independent of both; and he now prepared to commence in earnest the destruction of the Church.

Before advancing to this dangerous experiment, however, he deemed it necessary to tighten the discipline of the army, which had shown no little disgust at his proceedings.

Many of James's soldiers had deserted, and it was found that they were under no oath or obligation which rendered such desertion liable to serious punishment. But James determined to punish them, even condignly, in order to strike a sufficient terror into the whole army. He consulted the judges as to whether he did not possess this power; they said that he did not. Instead of accepting this answer, James dismissed Herbert, the Chief Justice of the King's Bench, Sir John Holt, another judge of the same bench and Recorder of London, and put in their places Sir Robert Wright, a creature of Jeffreys', a man of ruined and base character, Richard Allibone, and Sir Bartholomew Shower as Recorder. With these infamous instruments he went to work; and, instead of trying the offenders by court-martial, he brought them before these men in the King's Bench and in the Old Bailey, and hanged them in sight of their regiments. By these outrages on every law and principle of constitutional safety James thought he had terrified the army into obedience; and he now attacked the very existence of the Universities, in order to give the education of the country into the hands of Popery.

James commenced his encroachments on the Universities by ordering one Alban Francis, a Benedictine monk, to be admitted a Master of Arts of Cambridge. That many persons not strictly admissible by the rules of the University had received honorary degrees, including foreigners of different forms of faith, and even a Turk, was indisputable; but the object of these favours was so clear that no mischief could arise from the practice. But now the Universities were but too well aware that James aimed at a thorough usurpation of these schools by the Catholics to lightly pass the matter by. The heads of colleges sent hastily to Albemarle, their Chancellor, begging him to explain to the king that the person named could not be admitted according to the statutes; at the same time they conceded so far as to offer to admit Francis on his taking the Oaths of Supremacy and Obedience.

He refused. James menaced the authorities, but in vain, and he summoned them before the High Commission Court. John Pechell, the Vice-Chancellor of the University, attended by eight fellows, including the illustrious Isaac Newton—afterwards Sir Isaac—appeared, and were received by Jeffreys with all his devilish bluster. Pechell was soon terrified at this most brutal monster, whose employment alone would have sufficiently stamped the character of James; and, when any of the other fellows attempted to speak, Jeffreys roared out, "You are not Vice-Chancellor; when you are, you may talk; till then, hold your tongue." Finding, however, that, though he could embarrass, he could not bend the Vice-Chancellor, Jeffreys, by order of James, declared Pechell dismissed from the office of Vice-Chancellor, and all his emoluments suspended. This was a gross violation of the rights of the University, and Jeffreys added to the outrage a piece of his usually blasphemous advice to the fellows—"Go your way and sin no more, lest a worse thing befall you."

JAMES DOING HOMAGE TO THE PAPAL NUNCIO. (See p. 323.)

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The decease of the President of Magdalen College, Oxford, enabled James to follow up his plans without loss of time. Magdalen was one of the very richest of the English foundations, and consisted of a president, forty fellows, and thirty scholars, called Demies. It was the law of the foundation that the President could only be elected from those who were or had been members of that college, or of New College. The President died in March, 1687, and the 13th of April was fixed for the election of the new one. A Dr. Smith, a learned Orientalist, and an enthusiastically loyal man, applied for the royal consent, but was informed that the king was determined to give it only to one of his own religion; and, to the astonishment and disgust of the college, one Anthony Farmer was named as the royal nominee. The choice seemed made to insult the University in the highest degree possible, for not only was Farmer a Popish convert, but a man of the most drunken, debauched, and infamous character that could have been picked from the vilest haunts of unnamable wickedness. The astounded fellows humbly but earnestly remonstrated, but in vain. On the appointed day, despite the king's positive injunctions, and the presence of his agent, the choice fell on a distinguished and highly virtuous member of the college, John Hough.

The irate king summoned the fellows before the beastly Jeffreys and the High Commission, as he had summoned the heads of the University of Cambridge. There Jeffreys exhibited his wonted display of insufferable Billingsgate; and when Dr. Fairfax, one of the fellows, had the boldness to call in question the legality of the High Commission, he lost all patience. "Who is this man? What commission has he to be impudent here? Seize him; put him into a dark room. What does he do without a keeper? He is under my care as a lunatic. I wonder nobody has applied to me for the custody of him." But, after all, the character of Farmer was shown to be so vilely reprobate, that he was dropped, and the college ordered to receive Dr. Parker, Bishop of Oxford.

Parker was not an openly acknowledged Papist, but was understood to be really one; but he was neither a fellow of Magdalen nor of New College, and the fellows were firm enough to stand by their own election of Dr. Hough. James determined to go in person to Oxford and overawe these obstinate men; and he was the more bent upon it, having in the meantime suffered a similar defeat in endeavouring to force a Catholic into the hospital connected with the Charterhouse School. The trustees refused, and were called before Jeffreys. There he began browbeating the master, Thomas Burnet, but was unexpectedly opposed by the venerable Duke of Ormond. At this the bully swagger of this most hideous and contemptible judge that ever sat on a bench at once gave way, for he had no real courage. He stole from the court, and the scheme failed for the day. But the High Commission having sentenced Hough to be deposed from the presidentship of Magdalen, and Fairfax from his fellowship, again met, and summoned the trustees of the Charterhouse. Here again they were awed by a letter addressed to the king, signed by the trustees, including the names of Ormond, Halifax, Danby, and Nottingham, the chiefs of all the great parties who secured to James his crown, and still by their forbearance kept it on his head, so that they were compelled to pause before proceeding farther.

On the 16th of August James set out on a progress, with every display of royal state which could impress on the minds of his subjects an idea of his kingly position. He proceeded to Portsmouth, Southampton, Bath; thence by Gloucester and Worcester to Ludlow, Shrewsbury, and Chester; whence he again turned south, and reached Oxford on the 3rd of September. Everywhere he had been attended by the High Sheriffs of the counties with splendid retinues; and the clergy in the towns had flocked around him in great numbers, though he continued on his progress to neglect their preaching for Mass. If outward circumstances could be relied on, it might have been supposed that the king had never been more popular; and, with all the prestige of this tour, he summoned the refractory fellows of Magdalen before him, and rated them soundly on their disobedience. They knelt and offered him a petition, but he haughtily refused to look at it, bidding them go that instant and elect the Bishop of Oxford, or expect his high displeasure. But the fellows could not be thus brought to submission, and James quitted the town in high dudgeon.

On the 20th of October James sent down a special commission, consisting of Cartwright, Bishop of Chester, Wright, Chief Justice of the King's Bench, and Jenner, a baron of the Exchequer, attended by three troops of cavalry, with drawn swords, to Oxford, to expel Hough and instal Parker. Parker was installed, but the fellows would not acknowledge him. James, therefore, ejected them altogether. In a few weeks Parker died, and then the king proceeded to put the whole college into the hands of Papists, appointing Gifford, one of the four vicars-apostolic, president; for now, in the regular progress of his system, James had admitted four vicars-apostolic instead of one, which had been the case before. It may be imagined what resentment this arbitrary proceeding occasioned, not only in the Universities themselves, but amongst the clergy in every quarter of the kingdom, who now saw that nothing would deter the king from uprooting the deepest foundations of the Church.

Still more daring and atrocious schemes were agitated by James and his Popish cabal. Soon after his accession it had been proposed to set aside the claims of the Princess of Orange, and make Anne heir-apparent, on condition that she embraced Popery. Anne refused. It was then proposed to make over Ireland to Louis of France in case Mary of Orange could not be prevented from succeeding to England; and Louis expressed his assent to the proposal. Tyrconnel was to make all necessary preparations for this traitorous transfer. But at this moment a new light broke on James, which quashed these unnatural and unnational projects: the queen was declared pregnant. The news of this prospect was received by the public with equal incredulity and suspicion. The queen had had several children, who had died in their infancy; and there was nothing improbable in the expectation of another child, although five years had elapsed since her last confinement. The prospect of an heir, however, true or false, drove James on further and more desperate projects. Should a son be born, and live, which none of the queen's children had done hitherto, the Popish heir would be exposed to the danger of a long minority. James might die before the son had been firmly rooted in the Catholic faith, and the Protestant bishops and nobles would surround him with Protestant instructors, and most likely ruin all James's plans of perpetuating Popery. To obviate this, he determined to have an Act of Parliament, settling the form of the child's guardianship and education, and vesting all the necessary powers in Catholic hands. Any prudent man would at least have waited to see the birth and probable life of the child before rushing on so desperate a scheme; for, to have an Act, he must call a Parliament; and to call a Parliament in the present feeling of the nation was to bring together one of the most determinedly Protestant assemblies of men that had ever been seen. But James was of that mole-eyed, bigot character which rushed headlong on the most perilous issues. He determined to pack a Parliament by means which none but a madman would have attempted. Whether from county or borough, he could expect nothing but a most obstinate and universal demonstration in favour of the Church and Constitution. His brother Charles, for his own purposes, had deprived the towns of their charters, because they were Whig and often Nonconformist, and had given them others, which put them into the hands of the Tories and Churchmen, and these were the very men who now would resist James's plans to the death. The country was equally Church and Tory, but all this did not daunt James. He determined to remodel the corporations, and to change every magistrate in the counties that was not ready to carry out his views. He appointed a Board of Regulators at Whitehall to examine into the state of the corporations and introduce new rules and new men as they thought fit. These regulators were seven in number, and all Catholics and Jesuits, except the king's incarnate devil, Jeffreys. These men appointed deputations of chosen tools to visit the different corporations, and report to them; and James issued a proclamation announcing his intention to revise the commissions of the peace, and of the lieutenancy of counties. In fact, James proceeded like a man who was satisfied that he could do just as he pleased with the Constitution of a country which, through all ages, had shown itself more jealous of its Constitution than any other in the world.

He sent for the lords-lieutenants, and delivered to them a paper of instructions, with which they were each to proceed to their several counties. They were to summon all the magistrates, and tell them what his Majesty expected from them on the ensuing election of Parliament, and to send him up their individual answers, along with the list of all the Catholic and Dissenting gentlemen who might take the place of those who should dare to object to the king's plans on the bench or in the militia. The proposal was so audacious, that the greater proportion of the lords-lieutenants peremptorily refused to undertake any such commission; these included the noblest names in the peerage, and they were at once dismissed. The sweeping measure of turning out the Duke of Somerset, the Viscounts Newport and Falconberg, the Earls of Derby, Dorset, Shrewsbury, Oxford, Pembroke, Rutland, Bridgewater, Thanet, Abingdon, Northampton, Scarsdale, Gainsborough, and many others, showed how far James was gone in his madness. As the king could not get any noblemen to take the places of the dismissed, he filled them up as he could, and even made his butcher, Jeffreys, lord-lieutenant of two counties. But all was in vain; he soon received answers from every quarter that the whole nation, town and country, absolutely refused to obey the king's injunctions. Even those who had gone most zealously to work were obliged to return with most disconsolate reports, and to assure the king that, if he turned out every magistrate and militia officer, the next would still vote against Popery. Catholics and Nonconformists, though glad of indulgence, would not consent to attempt measures which could only end in defeat and confusion. The Nonconformists would not move a finger to endanger Protestantism. It was the same in the corporations. Some of these James could deprive of their charters, for the new ones frequently contained a power of revocation; but when he had done this he found himself no forwarder, for the new ministers upon the points that he had at heart were as sturdy as the old. Other towns from which he demanded the surrender of their charters refused. Wherever James could eject the Church members of corporations he did so, from London to the remotest borough, and put in Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists. It was perfectly useless; they were as Protestant as the Church. Even where he obtained a few truckling officials, they found it impossible to make the people vote as they wished; and in the counties the Catholic or Dissenting sheriffs were equally indisposed to press the Government views, or unable to obtain them if they did. He changed the borough magistrates in some cases two or three times, but in vain. Some of the people in the towns did not content themselves with mere passive resistance; they loudly declared their indignation, and the tyrant marched soldiers in upon them; but only to hear them exclaim that James was imitating his dear brother of France, and dragonading the Protestants.

Whilst these things were going on all over the country, James was putting on the same insane pressure in every public department of Government. The heads of departments were called on to pledge themselves to support the wishes of the king, and to demand from their subordinates the same obedience. The refractory were dismissed, even to the highest law officers of the Crown; and James demanded from the judges a declaration that even the Petition of Right could not bar the exercise of his prerogative; but the bench consulted in secret, and the result was never known. He even contemplated granting no licences to inns, beer-houses, or coffee-houses, without an engagement to support the king, in spite of Church or magistrate; but another of his measures now brought things to a crisis.

James determined to make his intentions known for fully restoring Popery by a new Declaration of Indulgence, in which he reminded his subjects of his determined character, and of the numbers of public servants that he had already dismissed for opposing his will. This Declaration he published on the 27th of April, 1688, and he ordered the clergy to read it from all pulpits in London on the 20th and 27th of May, and in the country on the 3rd and 10th of June. This was calling on the bishops and clergy to practise their doctrine of Non-resistance to some purpose; it was tantamount to demanding from them to co-operate in the overthrow of their own Church. They were, as may be supposed, in an awful dilemma; and now was the time for the Dissenters—whom they had so sharply persecuted and so soundly lectured on the duty of entire submission—to enjoy their embarrassment. But the Dissenters were too generous, and had too much in common at stake. They met and sent deputations to the clergy, and exhorted them to stand manfully for their faith, declaring that they would stand firmly by them. A meeting of the metropolitan clergy was called, at which were present Tillotson, Sherlock, Stillingfleet—great names—and others high in the Church. They determined not to read the Declaration on the 20th, and sent round a copy of this resolution through the City, where eighty-five incumbents immediately signed it.

The bishops meanwhile met at Lambeth, and discussed the same question. Cartwright of Chester, one of the king's most servile tools, and a member of the High Commission, took care to be there, to inform the king of what passed; but during his stay nothing but a disposition to compliance appeared to prevail, and he hurried away to Whitehall with the news. No sooner, however, was he gone than letters were secretly despatched, summoning the bishops of the province of Canterbury; and another meeting took place on the 18th, or two days prior to the Sunday fixed for the further reading of the Declaration. The bishops concluded not to read it, and six of them waited on the king with the written resolution. James was confounded, having assured himself that they meant to comply. He used the most menacing language, and declared that they had set up the standard of rebellion; and ordered them from his presence to go at once and see that he was obeyed. To prevent the publication of the resolution, he detained it; but that very evening it was printed and hawked through the streets, where it was received with acclamations by the people. Any but a mad bigot, seeing the feelings of the public, would have instantly revoked the declaration; but James was not that man. Sunday arrived, and out of all the hundred churches, the Declaration was only read in four, and with the effect of instantly clearing them, amid murmurs of indignation. Still it was not too late to recall the Order in Council; and even James himself, with all his folly and infatuation, was now staggered. It was strongly recommended in the Council to abandon the Declaration; but James listened to his evil genius, the brutal Jeffreys, and determined to bring the seven signing bishops to trial before the Court of King's Bench, on a charge of seditious libel. The fatal counsel was adopted, and they were summoned to appear before the Privy Council on the 8th of June.

In the interval the bishops and clergy in all parts of England, with few exceptions, showed the same resolute spirit. The Bishops of Gloucester, Norwich, Salisbury, Winchester, Exeter, and London, signed copies of the same petition. The Bishop of Carlisle regretted that, not belonging to the province of Canterbury, he could not do the same. The Bishop of Worcester refused to distribute the Declaration amongst his clergy; and the same spirit showed itself amongst the parochial clergy, who almost to a man refused to read it.

On the evening of the day appointed, the seven prelates—namely, Sancroft, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Lloyd of St. Asaph, Ken of Bath and Wells, Turner of Ely, Lake of Chichester, White of Peterborough, and Trelawney of Bristol—attended the Privy Council. Jeffreys took up the petition, and, showing it to Sancroft, asked him if that was not the paper which he had written, and the six bishops present had signed. Sancroft and his colleagues had been instructed by the ablest lawyers in England as to the course they should pursue, and the dangers to be avoided. The Primate, therefore, instead of acknowledging the paper, turned to the king and said—"Sir, I am called hither as a criminal, which I never was before; and, since I have that unhappiness, I trust your Majesty will not be offended if I decline answering questions which may tend to criminate me." "This is mere chicanery," said James. "I hope you will not disown your own handwriting." Lloyd of St. Asaph said that it was agreed by all divines that no man in their situation was obliged to answer any such question; but, as James still pressed for an answer, Sancroft observed that, though he were not bound to accuse himself, yet, if the king commanded it, he would answer, taking it for granted that his Majesty would not take advantage to bring his admission there in evidence against him. James said he would not command him; but Jeffreys told them to withdraw for awhile, and when they were called back, James commanded the Primate, and he acknowledged the writing. They were then again sent out, and, on coming back, were told by Jeffreys that they would be proceeded against, not before the High Commission, but, "with all fairness," before the King's Bench.

They were then called upon to enter into recognisances, but they refused, on the plea that they were peers of Parliament, and that no peer of Parliament could be required to enter into recognisances in case of libel. This greatly disconcerted James, for it compelled him to send them to prison, and he justly feared the effect of it on the public. But there was no alternative; a warrant was signed for their commitment to the Tower, and they were sent thither in a barge.

The scene which immediately took place showed that James had at length a glimmering of the danger which he had raised. The whole river was crowded with wherries full of people, who crowded round the bishops to entreat their blessings, many rushing breast-high into the water to come near enough. James, in terror, ordered the garrison and guards of the Tower to be doubled; but the same spirit animated the soldiers, who knelt at the approach of the prelates, and also solicited their blessing. Presently the soldiers were found carousing to the health of their prisoners; and when Sir Edward Hales, who had been made Lieutenant of the Tower for his going over to Popery, desired the officers to put a stop to it, they returned and told him that it was impossible, for the soldiers would drink nobody's health but the bishops'. Every day the gates of the Tower were besieged by the equipages of the chief nobility. The very Nonconformists came in bodies to condole with their old persecutors; and Tower Hill was one constant throng of people manifesting their sympathy.

Two days only after the bishops were sent to the Tower—namely, the 10th of June—was announced what, under other circumstances, would have been a most auspicious event for James—the birth of an heir. But the nation was so full of suspicion, both of the monarch and the Jesuits that he had around him, that it would not credit the news that the healthy boy which was born was the actual child of James and his queen. It was certainly of the highest moment that James should have taken every precaution to have the birth verified beyond dispute; but in this respect he had been as singularly maladroit as in all his other affairs. As the Protestants were, of course, highly suspicious, he should have had the usual number of Protestant witnesses ready. But the queen, who sat playing cards at Whitehall till near midnight, was suddenly taken ill a month before the calculated time, and there was neither the Princess Anne present—she was away at Bath,—nor the Archbishop of Canterbury, nor the Dutch ambassador—whom it was so necessary to satisfy on behalf of the Prince and Princess of Orange,—nor any of the Hyde family, not even the Earl of Clarendon, the uncle of Mary and Anne. On the contrary, there were plenty of Jesuits, and the renegades Dover, Peterborough, Murray, Sunderland—who directly afterwards avowed himself a Catholic—Mulgrave, and others. The consequence was that the whole people declared the child spurious; that it had been introduced into the bed in a warming-pan; and when the public announcement was made, and a day of solemn thanksgiving was appointed, there was no rejoicing. Fireworks were let off by order of Government; but the night was black and tempestuous, and flashes of lurid lightning paled the artificial fires, and made the people only the more firm in the belief that heaven testified against the imposture. And yet there was no imposture. There were some Protestants present—sufficient to prevent any collusion, and particularly Dr. Chamberlain, the eminent accoucheur; but James, by his folly and tyranny, had deprived himself of the public confidence, and fixed on his innocent offspring a brand of disavowment, which clung to him and his fortunes, and has only been removed by the cooler judgment of recent times. William of Orange sent over Zulestein to congratulate James on the birth of an heir; but that minister brought back the account that not one person in ten believed the child to be the queen's.

THE SEVEN BISHOPS ENTERING THE TOWER. (See p. 328.)

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On Friday, the 15th of June, the first day of term, the bishops were brought from the Tower to the King's Bench, and, pleading not guilty, they were admitted to bail till the 29th of June. During this fortnight the public excitement continued to augment, and from every quarter of the kingdom—even from the Presbyterians of Scotland, who had shown themselves such determined opponents of prelacy, and had been such sufferers from it—came messages of sympathy and encouragement to the bishops. On that day immense crowds assembled to receive their blessings, and to utter others on their way to Westminster Hall; and this homage was the warmer because the prelates had resisted the demand of Sir Edward Hales, the Lieutenant of the Tower, for his fees, this renegade having shown them little courtesy, and now plainly letting them know that, if they came again into his hands, they should lie on the bare stones.

Every means had been taken to pack a jury. Sir Samuel Astrey, the Clerk of the Crown, had been summoned to the palace, and been instructed by James and his great legal adviser, Jeffreys. The judges, too, were of the most base and complying character. They were such as had been raised from the very lowest ranks of the bar for their servile fitness, and because the more eminent lawyers would not stoop to such ignominy. They were Wright; Allibone, a Papist; Holloway and Powell; the Attorney-General, Sir Thomas Powis, an inferior lawyer; the Solicitor-General, Sir William Williams, a man of ability and vigour, but rash, imperious, and unpopular. Ranged against these were the most brilliant lawyers of the time—Sawyer and Finch, formerly Attorney- and Solicitor-General; Pemberton, formerly Chief Justice; Maynard; Sir George Treby, who had been Recorder of London, and others. Somers, afterwards Lord Chancellor in William's reign, was the bishops' junior counsel. The foreman of the jury was Sir Roger Langley. On the side of the prosecution, the judges, and even the blustering Jeffreys, betrayed a sense of terror.

The trial commenced at nine in the morning, and not till seven in the evening did the jury retire to consider their verdict. The lawyers for the prisoners raised great difficulties as to proving the handwriting of the libel, and next in proving its being published in Westminster. The Crown lawyers were obliged to bring into court Blathwayt, a clerk of the Privy Council, for this object; and then the counsel for the prisoners stopped him, and compelled him to state what had passed there between the bishops and the king—much to the chagrin of the Government party. Before the publication could be proved, even Sunderland was obliged to be brought into court in a sedan. He was pale, trembled violently from fright and shame of his late apostacy, and gave his evidence with his eyes fixed on the ground. But even then, when the judges came to consider the bishops' petition, they were divided in opinion. Wright and Allibone declared it a libel, and contended for the royal right of the dispensing power; but Holloway conceded that the petition appeared to him perfectly allowable from subjects to their sovereign; and Powell set himself right with the public and wrong with the Court—a significant sign—by boldly declaring both the Dispensing Power and the Declaration of Indulgence contrary to law.

With such sentiments developing themselves on the bench, there could be little doubt what the verdict would be; yet the jury sat all night, from seven o'clock till six the next morning, before they were fully agreed, there being, however, only three dissentients at first. When the court met at ten o'clock, the crowd, both within and without, was crushing and immense; and when the foreman pronounced the words "Not guilty," Halifax was the first to start up and wave his hat; and such a shout was sent up as was heard as far as Temple Bar. The news flew far and wide; the shouting and rejoicing broke out in every quarter of the town. The whole population, nobility, clergy, people, all seemed gone mad. There were more than sixty lords who had stood out the trial, and now threw money amongst the throngs as they drove away. The people formed a line down to the water's edge, and knelt as the bishops passed through, asking their blessing. The Attorney-General, Williams, was pursued in his coach with curses and groans; and Cartwright, the Bishop of Chester, and James's tool of the High Commission, being descried, was hooted at as "That wolf in sheep's clothing!" and, as he was a very fat man, one cried, "Room for the man with the Pope in his belly!"

The whole town was in an intoxication of delight. Bonfires were lit, guns fired, bells rung all night, and the Pope in effigy was burnt in several places—one before the door of Whitehall itself; another was kindled before the door of the Earl of Salisbury, who had lately gone over to Popery; and his servants, in their ill-timed zeal, rushing out to extinguish it, were attacked, and, firing on the people, killed the parish beadle, who was come to attempt what they themselves were attempting—to put out the fire. That morning James had gone to review his troops on Hounslow Heath. He received the news of the acquittal by a special messenger while in Lord Feversham's tent. He was greatly enraged, and set out at once for London. Before, however, he was clear of the camp the news had flown amongst the soldiers, and a tremendous cheering startled him. "What noise is that?" demanded James. "Oh!" said the general, "it is nothing but the soldiers shouting because the bishops are acquitted." "And call you that nothing?" asked James; and added angrily, "but so much the worse for them."

The very day which pronounced the acquittal of the bishops saw signed and despatched an invitation from the leading Whigs to William of Orange to come over and drive the tyrant from the throne. The Whigs had long been contemplating and preparing for this end; they now saw that the crisis was come. The brutal and besotted king had effectually alienated all hearts from him. From him nothing but destruction of every liberty and sentiment that Englishmen held dear was to be expected; and in the heir which was now, as was generally believed, foisted on the nation by the king and the Jesuits, there was only the pledge of the reign of Popery and proscription, and of the extermination of all those high hopes and privileges which were entwined with Protestant freedom. The Whig leaders had sent repeatedly to William to stimulate him to the enterprise; but, apart from his habitual caution and the salutary fear that Monmouth's reception had inspired, the Prince of Orange had many difficulties to contend with from the peculiar constitution of the Dutch Republic, and the peculiar views and interests of his allies. Though at the head of the Dutch confederation, he had always experienced much opposition from individual states and cities, especially Amsterdam, which his great enemy, Louis of France, managed to influence. This invitation called him to expel from his throne a Catholic king, and replace his Government by a Protestant one, though the Pope and Spain, the most Catholic of countries, were his close allies, and must not be offended. He had, therefore, stipulated that he should receive such an invitation under the hands and seals of the Whig leaders as should leave little doubt of his reception, and that he should be regarded as the saviour from an intolerable ruler, and not forced to attempt a conquest which must in its very success bring ruin by wounding the national pride of England.

He now received a paper, signed by the Earls of Shrewsbury, Devonshire, and Danby, Lord Lumley, Bishop Compton, Edward Russell, the Admiral of England, and Henry Sidney, the brother of the late Algernon Sidney, and afterwards Earl of Romney. This paper, which had been furnished at William's request, was but the result of negotiations between himself and the Whig leaders for some time. He now called into council with the English envoy his confidential friends, Bentinck and Dykvelt, and it was resolved that the time for action was come, and that the invitation should be accepted. In the meantime, whilst William began in earnest, but as secretly as circumstances would allow, his preparations, James at home did everything which a foolish and obstinate ruler could do to complete the alienation of the affections of his subjects. He returned from his camp to his capital only to find it in transports of delight over his own defeat, and resounding with the explosions of guns and crackers, with drinkings of the health of the bishops in the streets, and with the effigy of the Pope blazing before his own gate. So far from making him pause at the contemplation of the avowed and universal spirit of his people, he was only the more exasperated, and continued muttering, "So much the worse for them." He determined to take summary vengeance on the clergy, on the lawyers who had opposed or deserted him, on the army, and on the people. He at once promoted Mr. Solicitor-General Williams, for his unscrupulous conduct on the trial of the bishops, to a baronetcy, and would have placed so convenient a man on the bench could he have spared him at the bar. He dismissed Powell and Holloway; he determined to visit with his vengeance all the clergy throughout the kingdom who had refused to read the Declaration; and an order was issued to all the chancellors of the dioceses and the archdeacons to make a return of them. No matter that they approached ten thousand in number; if necessary, he would drive them all from their benefices. The judges on the circuits were ordered to denounce these refractory clergy, and to speak in the most derogatory terms of the bishops. He broke up his camp, the soldiers of which had been intended to overawe the capital, and stand by whilst he destroyed the national Constitution and the national religion; but had now terrified and disgusted him by drinking the healths of the liberated bishops.

But all his angry attempts only recoiled on himself, and showed more clearly than ever that the reins of power were irrecoverably slipping from his fingers. The spell of royalty—a people's respect—was utterly broken. The chancellors and archdeacons paid no attention to the order for reporting their independent brethren; the High Commission met, and, so far from finding any returns, received a letter from one of the most truckling of their own body, Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, resigning his place in the High Commission. If such a man saw the handwriting on the wall, the warning, they felt, must be imminent, and they departed in confusion. The judges, on their part, found themselves deserted on their circuits; nobody but the sheriff and his javelin men came to meet them, and then went through their duties amid every sign of indifference to their dignity. They were treated, not as the high-minded judges of England, but as the base and venal tools of a most lawless and mischievous monarch. The soldiers were as bold in their separate quarters as they had been in camp. James thought he could deal with them separately, and tried the experiment by ordering a regiment of infantry, which had been raised in the Catholic district of Staffordshire, to sign an engagement to support him in dispersing all the rest, or to quit the army. Almost to a man they piled their arms, and the confounded king was obliged to withdraw the order. But James had a remedy even for the defection of the army. In Ireland the brutal and debauched Tyrconnel had been busily engaged in drilling Irish Celts, and preparing an army so strongly Catholic that he might by this means carry out the royal design of repealing the Act of Settlement, and driving the Protestant colonists from their lands. These troops James sent for, regiment after regiment, and the people of England saw, with equal indignation and alarm, that their liberties, their religion, their laws, were to be trodden down, and the kingdom reduced to a miserable abode of slaves by the wild tribes of the sister island, vengeful with centuries of unrequited oppressions. This put the climax to the national resentment, and still more pressing messages were sent over to William to hasten his approach, and leaders of party in large numbers contemplated a speedy transit to his standard. It was at this juncture that the wild genius of Wharton gave vent to the pent-up feelings of Protestant wrath, by the adaptation of the old Irish tune of "Lillibullero" to English words.

William, meanwhile, was making strenuous preparations for his enterprise. He formed a camp at Nimeguen, collecting troops and artillery from the different fortresses. Twenty-four additional ships of war were fitted out for service, and arms and accoutrements were in busy preparation in every manufactory in Holland. He had saved up unusual funds for him, and had money also pouring in from England and from the refugee Huguenots, who hoped much from his enterprise in favour of Protestantism. It was impossible that all this preparation could escape the attention of other nations, and especially of the quick-sighted Louis XIV. of France. But William had a ready answer—that he wanted an extra squadron to go in pursuit of a number of Algerine corsairs which had made their appearance off the Dutch coasts. The military preparations were not so easily explained; but though Louis was satisfied that they were intended against England, James, blind to his danger, as strongly suspected that they were meant to operate against France. The only enemies which William had to really dread were Louis and the Council of Amsterdam, which Louis had so long influenced to hostility to William, and without whose consent no expedition could be permitted. But the ambition and the persecuting bigotry of Louis removed this only difficulty out of William's way in a manner which looked like the actual work of Providence. The two points on which Amsterdam was pre-eminently sensitive were trade and Protestantism. Louis contrived to incense them on both these heads. His unrelenting persecution of the Huguenots, including also Dutch Protestants who had settled in France, raised an intense feeling in Amsterdam, stimulated by the outcries and representations of their relatives there. To all appeals for tolerance and mercy Louis was utterly deaf; and whilst this feeling was at its height, he imposed a heavy duty on the importation of herrings from Holland into France. Sixty thousand persons in Holland depended on this trade, and the effect was, therefore, disastrous. In vain did the French envoy, Avaux, represent these things; Louis continued haughty and inexorable.

VIEW IN THE HAGUE: THE HALL OF THE KNIGHTS IN THE BINNENHOF.

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These circumstances, in which the pride and bigotry of Louis got the better of his worldly policy, completed the triumph of William of Orange. He seized on them to effect a removal of the long-continued jealousies of the Council of Amsterdam against him. He entered into negotiations with the leading members of the Council through his trusty friends Bentinck and Dykvelt, and as they were in the worst of humours with Louis, the old animosities against William were suffered to sleep, and he obtained the sanction of the States-General to his proposed expedition for the release of England from the French and Catholic influences, and its reception into the confederation of Protestant nations. Another circumstance just at this crisis occurred to strengthen all these feelings in Holland and Germany, and to account for any amount of troops collected at Nimeguen. The aggressions of Louis had roused and combined all Europe against him. Powers both Catholic and Protestant had felt themselves compelled to unite in order to repress his attempts at universal dominion. The King of Spain, the Emperor of Germany, the King of Sweden had entered into the League of Augsburg to defend the empire; and to these were added various Italian princes, with the Pope Innocent XI. himself at their head. Louis had not hesitated to insult the Pope on various occasions, and now he saw the pontiff in close coalition with heretic princes to repel his schemes.

In May of this year died Ferdinand of Bavaria, the Elector of Cologne. Besides Cologne, the elector possessed the bishoprics of Liége, Münster, and Hildesheim. In 1672 Louis had endeavoured to secure a successor to the Elector in the French interest. He therefore proposed as his coadjutor the Cardinal Furstemberg, Bishop of Strasburg; and he would have succeeded, but it was necessary, in order to his choice, that Furstemberg should first resign his bishopric; to this the Pope, in his hostility to Louis, would not consent; he refused his dispensation. But now, the Elector having died, the contest was renewed. Louis again proposed the cardinal; the allies of the League of Augsburg nominated the Prince Clement of Bavaria, who was elected and confirmed by the Pope, though a youth of only seventeen years of age. The allies were equally successful in the bishoprics of Liége, Münster, and Hildesheim; but the principal fortresses, Bonn, Neutz, Kaiserswerth, and Rheinberg, were held by the troops of Furstemberg, and therefore were at the service of France. Louis was, however, exasperated at the partial defeat of his plans, and complained loudly of the partiality of the Pope, and began to march troops to the support of Furstemberg.

But whilst Louis was actually planning a sweeping descent on the German Empire, in which William of Orange lay pre-eminently in his way, he was at the same time in danger of a more momentous occurrence—that of William leaving the way open by sailing for England. If William should succeed in placing himself on the throne of England, he would be able to raise a far more formidable opposition to his plans of aggrandisement than he had ever yet done. Even with his small resources he had proved a terrible enemy, and had arrayed all Europe against him; what would he do if he could bring all the powers of England by land and sea to co-operate with Holland, Spain, Austria, Sweden, and the Netherlands? The stupidity of James and the offended pride of Louis saved William in this dilemma, and led Louis to commit on this occasion the cardinal blunder of his reign.