extraordinary remedy, but spoke with earnestness of
the chance of failure, and of the calamities which failure might bring
on Britain and on Europe. He knew well that many who talked in high
language about sacrificing their lives and fortunes for their country
would hesitate when the prospect of another Bloody Circuit was brought
close to them. He wanted therefore to have, not vague professions of
good will, but distinct invitations and promises of support subscribed
by powerful and eminent men. Russell remarked that it would be dangerous
to entrust the design to a great number of persons. William assented,
and said that a few signatures would be sufficient, if they were the
signatures of statesmen who represented great interests. [414]

With this answer Russell returned to London, where he found the
excitement greatly increased and daily increasing. The imprisonment of
the Bishops and the delivery of the Queen made his task easier than he
could have anticipated. He lost no time in collecting the voices of the
chiefs of the opposition. His principal coadjutor in this work was Henry
Sidney, brother of Algernon. It is remarkable that both Edward Russell
and Henry Sidney had been in the household of James, that both had,
partly on public and partly on private grounds, become his enemies, and
that both had to avenge the blood of near kinsmen who had, in the same
year, fallen victims to his implacable severity. Here the resemblance
ends. Russell, with considerable abilities, was proud, acrimonious,
restless, and violent. Sidney, with a sweet temper and winning manners,
seemed to be deficient in capacity and knowledge, and to be sunk in
voluptuousness and indolence. His face and form were eminently handsome.
In his youth he had been the terror of husbands; and even now, at near
fifty, he was the favourite of women and the envy of younger men. He
had formerly resided at the Hague in a public character, and had then
succeeded in obtaining a large share of William's confidence. Many
wondered at this: for it seemed that between the most austere of
statesmen and the most dissolute of idlers there could be nothing in
common. Swift, many years later, could not be convinced that one whom he
had known only as an illiterate and frivolous old rake could really have
played a great part in a great revolution. Yet a less acute observer
than Swift might have been aware that there is a certain tact,
resembling an instinct, which is often want