ague as chaplain to Mary, the wife of William of Orange.
Here he expressed himself "horribly unsatisfied" with William's
unkindness to his wife, and he incurred the Prince's anger by
persuading Count Zulestein to marry a lady whom he had seduced. Soon
after, when he was living at Winchester, he refused to allow the royal
harbinger to use his prebendal house for the lodging of Nell Gwynn, on
the occasion of Charles II.'s visit there in 1683. Charles, with
characteristic generosity, thought all the more highly of him, and
when he was told of the vacant bishopric, said no one should have the
see but "the little black fellow who refused his lodging to poor
Nelly." Before the year was over, Charles was on his death-bed, and
summoned Ken to his side. The bishop persuaded the king to send the
Duchess of Portsmouth from the room and to call in the Queen. He then
absolved him, although Charles would not receive the communion.

After the Monmouth rebellion (p. 17) he, with the Bishop of Ely, was
sent to tell the Duke of his fate; he remained with the wretched man
all through the night before his execution, and accompanied him on the
scaffold. He then returned to his see, used all his influence on
behalf of the unhappy peasants, and by his personal intervention,
saved a hundred prisoners from death. He strongly opposed the
Romanising policy of James II., and preached several sermons which had
a large share in the formation of public opinion. He was one of the
seven bishops who were committed to the Tower for petitioning the king
against the order to the clergy to read the second Declaration of
Indulgence. The incidents of that wonderful trial are familiar to all
Englishmen, and it is notable that one of the richest dissenters in
the city begged to have the special honour of giving security for the
high church bishop of Bath and Wells.

But when the revolution came, Ken was found among those who were
called non-jurors, because they regarded their oath of allegiance to
James as still binding. He was consequently, in 1690, deprived of his
see. He made a public protest in the cathedral against his
deprivation, and continued to sign himself _T. Bath and Wells_, but he
had to live in retirement, and with an income of only L20 a year. He
died in 1710, and was buried in Frome Church at sunrise, in allusion
to his morning hymn ("Awake, my soul, and with the sun"), and to his
habit of rising with the sun.

Ken was in every way a great sa