able, and in such a war William had always held that the aid of
England was essential to success. But his efforts to ensure English aid
had utterly failed. James, as William soon came to know, had renewed his
brother's secret treaty with France; and even had this been otherwise
his quarrel with his people would of itself have prevented him from
giving any aid in a struggle abroad. The Prince could only silently look
on with a desperate hope that James might yet be brought to a nobler
policy. He refused all encouragement to the leading malcontents who were
already calling on him to interfere in arms. On the other hand he
declined to support the king in his schemes for the abolition of the
Test. If he still cherished hopes of bringing about a peace between the
king and people which might enable him to enlist England in the Grand
Alliance, they vanished in 1687 before the Declaration of Indulgence. It
was at this moment, at the end of May, that James called on him and Mary
to declare themselves in favour of the abolition of the penal laws and
of the Test. "Conscience, honour, and good policy," wrote James, "bind
me to procure safety for the Catholics. I cannot leave those who have
remained faithful to the old and true religion subject to the oppression
under which the laws place them."

[Sidenote: The King's hopes.]

But simultaneously with the king's appeal letters of great import
reached the Prince from the leading nobles. Some, like the Hydes, simply
assured him of their friendship. The Bishop of London added assurances
of support. Others, like Devonshire, Nottingham, and Shrewsbury,
cautiously or openly warned the Prince against compliance with the
king's demand. Lord Churchill announced the resolve of Mary's sister
Anne to stand in any case by the cause of Protestantism. Danby, the
leading representative of the great Tory party, told the Dutch
ambassador plainly to warn William that if James was suffered to pursue
his present course, and above all to gain control over the Parliament,
he would leave the Catholic party strong enough at his death to threaten
Mary's succession. The letters dictated William's answer. No one, he
truly protested, loathed religious persecution more than he himself did,
but in relaxing political disabilities James called on him to
countenance an attack on his own religion. "I cannot," he ended, "concur
in what your Majesty desires of me." William's refusal was justified, as
we have seen, by t