laws of England, and had been sternly
reprimanded, prorogued, and dissolved. Judge after Judge had been
stripped of the ermine for declining to give decisions opposed to the
whole common and statute law. The most respectable Cavaliers had been
excluded from all share in the government of their counties for refusing
to betray the public liberties. Scores of clergymen had been deprived of
their livelihood for observing their oaths. Prelates, to whose steadfast
fidelity the King owed the crown which he wore, had on their knees
besought him not to command them to violate the laws of God and of the
land. Their modest petition had been treated as a seditious libel.
They had been browbeaten, threatened, imprisoned, prosecuted, and had
narrowly escaped utter ruin. Then at length the nation, finding that
right was borne down by might, and that even supplication was regarded
as a crime, began to think of trying the chances of war. The oppressor
learned that an armed deliverer was at hand and would be eagerly
welcomed by Whigs and Tories, Dissenters and Churchmen. All was
immediately changed. That government which had requited constant and
zealous service with spoliation and persecution, that government which
to weighty reasons and pathetic intreaties had replied only by injuries,
and insults, became in a moment strangely gracious. Every Gazette now
announced the removal of some grievance. It was then evident that on the
equity, the humanity, the plighted word of the King, no reliance could
be placed, and that he would govern well only so long as he was under
the strong dread of resistance. His subjects were therefore by no means
disposed to restore to him a confidence which he had justly forfeited,
or to relax the pressure which had wrung from him the only good acts
of his whole reign. The general impatience for the arrival of the Dutch
became every day stronger. The gales which at this time blew obstinately
from the west, and which at once prevented the Prince's armament from
sailing and brought fresh Irish regiments from Dublin to Chester, were
bitterly cursed and reviled by the common people. The weather, it was
said, was Popish. Crowds stood in Cheapside gazing intently at the
weathercock on the graceful steeple of Bow Church, and praying for a
Protestant wind. [491]

The general feeling was strengthened by an event which, though merely
accidental, was not unnaturally ascribed to the perfidy of the King. The
Bishop of Winches