ss of works
in which it was formerly thought that a voluptuous imagination was
privileged to disport itself, love songs, comedies, novels, have become
more decorous than the sermons of the seventeenth century. At this day
foreigners, who dare not print a word reflecting on the government under
which they live, are at a loss to understand how it happens that the
freest press in Europe is the most prudish.

On the tenth of October, the King, leaving his army in winter quarters,
arrived in England, and was received with unwonted enthusiasm. During
his passage through the capital to his palace, the bells of every church
were ringing, and every street was lighted up. It was late before he
made his way through the shouting crowds to Kensington. But, late as it
was, a council was instantly held. An important point was to be decided.
Should the House of Commons be permitted to sit again, or should there
be an immediate dissolution? The King would probably have been willing
to keep that House to the end of his reign. But this was not in his
power. The Triennial Act had fixed the twenty-fifth of March as the
latest day of the existence of the Parliament. If therefore there were
not a general election in 1695, there must be a general election in
1696; and who could say what might be the state of the country in 1696?
There might be an unfortunate campaign. There might be, indeed there
was but too good reason to believe that there would be, a terrible
commercial crisis. In either case, it was probable that there would be
much ill humour. The campaign of 1695 had been brilliant; the nation
was in an excellent temper; and William wisely determined to seize the
fortunate moment. Two proclamations were immediately published. One of
them announced, in the ordinary form, that His Majesty had determined to
dissolve the old Parliament and had ordered writs to be issued for a new
Parliament. The other proclamation was unprecedented. It signified the
royal pleasure to be that every regiment quartered in a place where an
election was to be held should march out of that place the day before
the nomination, and should not return till the people had made their
choice. From this order, which was generally considered as indicating
a laudable respect for popular rights, the garrisons of fortified towns
and castles were necessarily excepted.

But, though William carefully abstained from disgusting the constituent
bodies by any thing that could look