a fortress begirt
by pestilential marshes. The lure which had produced this strange
transformation was the Viceroyalty of Ireland. Soon, however, it
appeared that the proselyte had little chance of obtaining the splendid
prize on which his heart was set. He found that others were consulted
on Irish affairs. His advice was never asked, and, when obtrusively and
importunately offered, was coldly received. He repaired many times to
Saint James's Palace, but could scarcely obtain a word or a look. One
day the Prince was writing, another day he wanted fresh air and must
ride in the Park; on a third he was closeted with officers on military
business and could see nobody. Clarendon saw that he was not likely to
gain anything by the sacrifice of his principles, and determined to take
them back again. In December ambition had converted him into a rebel.
In January disappointment reconverted him into a royalist. The uneasy
consciousness that he had not been a consistent Tory gave a peculiar
acrimony to his Toryism. [660] In the House of Lords he had done all in
his power to prevent a settlement. He now exerted, for the same end,
all his influence over the Princess Anne. But his influence over her
was small indeed when compared with that of the Churchills, who wisely
called to their help two powerful allies, Tillotson, who, as a spiritual
director, had, at that time, immense authority, and Lady Russell, whose
noble and gentle virtues, proved by the most cruel of all trials, had
gained for her the reputation of a saint. The Princess of Denmark, it
was soon known, was willing that William should reign for life; and it
was evident that to defend the cause of the daughters of James against
themselves was a hopeless task. [661]

And now William thought that the time had come when he ought to explain
himself. He accordingly sent for Halifax, Danby, Shrewsbury, and some
other political leaders of great note, and, with that air of stoical
apathy under which he had, from a boy, been in the habit of concealing
his strongest emotions, addressed to them a few deeply meditated and
weighty words.

He had hitherto, he said, remained silent; he had used neither
solicitation nor menace: he had not even suffered a hint of his opinions
or wishes to get abroad: but a crisis had now arrived at which it was
necessary for him to declare his intentions. He had no right and no wish
to dictate to the Convention. All that he claimed was the privilege of
d