the turbulent and halfwitted knave, fancying that the times
of Fleetwood and Harrison were come again, forced the door, went through
the congregation sword in hand, mounted the pulpit, and there poured
forth a fiery invective against the King. The time for such follies had
gone by; and this exhibition excited nothing but derision and disgust.
[514]

While these things were passing in Devonshire the ferment was great in
London. The Prince's Declaration, in spite of all precautions, was now
in every man's hands. On the sixth of November James, still uncertain on
what part of the coast the invaders had landed, summoned the Primate and
three other Bishops, Compton of London, White of Peterborough, and
Sprat of Rochester, to a conference in the closet. The King listened
graciously while the prelates made warm professions of loyalty, and
assured them that he did not suspect them. "But where," said he, "is
the paper that you were to bring me?" "Sir," answered Sancroft, "we have
brought no paper. We are not solicitous to clear our fame to the
world. It is no new thing to us to be reviled and falsely accused. Our
consciences acquit us: your Majesty acquits us: and we are satisfied."
"Yes," said the King; "but a declaration from you is necessary to my
service." He then produced a copy of the Prince's manifesto. "See," he
said, "how you are mentioned here." "Sir," answered one of the Bishops,
"not one person in five hundred believes this manifesto to be genuine."
"No!" cried the King fiercely; "then those five hundred would bring the
Prince of Orange to cut my throat." "God forbid," exclaimed the prelates
in concert. But the King's understanding, never very clear, was now
quite bewildered. One of his peculiarities was that, whenever his
opinion was not adopted, he fancied that his veracity was questioned.
"This paper not genuine!" he exclaimed, turning over the leaves with his
hands. "Am I not worthy to be believed? Is my word not to be taken?"
"At all events, sir," said one of the Bishops, "this is not an
ecclesiastical matter. It lies within the sphere of the civil power.
God has entrusted your Majesty with the sword: and it is not for us
to invade your functions." Then the Archbishop, with that gentle and
temperate malice which inflicts the deepest wounds, declared that he
must be excused from setting his hand to any political document. "I and
my brethren, sir," he said, "have already smarted severely for meddling
with affairs