he perilous nature of the
course upon which James had adventured, in endeavouring to bring about,
if not the absolute re-establishment of the Catholic religion, at least
such a quasi-establishment of it as the people deemed, and probably with
reason, was, with so aspiring a body of ecclesiastics, in effect the
same thing. When he saw the headstrong monarch break through all bounds,
and openly trample on the liberties, while he shocked the religious
feelings, of his people, he wrote to him to point out, in firm but
respectful terms, the danger of his conduct. He declared to Lord Galway,
when James's innovations began, that if he persisted in his design of
overturning the constitution and religion of his country, he would leave
his service. So far his conduct was perfectly unexceptionable. Our first
duty is to our country, our second only to our benefactor. If they are
brought into collision, as they often are during the melancholy
vicissitudes of a civil war, an honourable man, whatever it may cost
him, has but one part to take. He must not abandon his public duty for
his private feelings, but he must never betray official duty. If
Churchill, perceiving the frantic course of his master, had withdrawn
from his service, and then either taken no part in the revolution which
followed, or even appeared in arms against him, the most scrupulous
moralist could have discovered nothing reprehensible in his conduct.
History has in every age applauded the virtue, while it has commiserated
the anguish, of the elder Brutus, who sacrificed his sons to the perhaps
too rigorous laws of his country.

But Churchill did not do this, and thence has arisen an ineffaceable
blot on his memory. He did not relinquish the service of the infatuated
monarch; he retained his office and commands; but he employed the
influence and authority thence derived, to ruin his benefactor. So far
were the representations of Churchill from having inspired any doubts of
his fidelity, that James, when the Prince of Orange landed, confided to
him the command of a corps of five thousand men, destined to oppose his
progress. At the very time that he accepted that command, he had, if we
may believe his panegyrist Ledyard, signed a letter, along with several
other peers, addressed to the Prince of Orange, inviting him to come
over, and had actually concluded with Major-General Kirk, who commanded
at Axminster, a convention, for the seizure of the king and giving him
up