isable to hold conciliatory language. It
was no time, he said, for wrangling. Court party and country party were
Englishmen alike. Their duty was to forget all past grievances, and to
cooperate heartily for the purpose of saving the country.

In a moment all was changed. A message from the Lords was announced.
It was a message which lightened many heavy hearts. The bill had been
passed without amendments.

The leading malecontents, who, a few minutes before, scared by finding
that their violence had brought on a crisis for which they were not
prepared, had talked about the duty of mutual forgiveness and close
union, instantly became again as rancorous as ever. One danger, they
said, was over. So far well. But it was the duty of the representatives
of the people to take such steps as might make it impossible that there
should ever again be such danger. Every adviser of the Crown, who had
been concerned in the procuring or passing of any exorbitant grant,
ought to be excluded from all access to the royal ear. A list of the
privy councillors, furnished in conformity with the order made two
days before, was on the table. That list the clerk was ordered to read.
Prince George of Denmark and the Archbishop of Canterbury passed without
remark. But, as soon as the Chancellor's name had been pronounced, the
rage of his enemies broke forth. Twice already, in the course of that
stormy session, they had attempted to ruin his fame and his fortunes;
and twice his innocence and his calm fortitude had confounded all their
politics. Perhaps, in the state of excitement to which the House had
been wrought up, a third attack on him might be successful. Orator
after orator declaimed against him. He was the great offender. He was
responsible for all the grievances of which the nation complained.
He had obtained exorbitant grants for himself. He had defended the
exorbitant grants obtained by others. He had not, indeed, been able, in
the late debates, to raise his own voice against the just demands of the
nation. But it might well be suspected that he had in secret prompted
the ungracious answer of the King and encouraged the pertinacious
resistance of the Lords. Sir John Levison Gower, a noisy and acrimonious
Tory, called for impeachment. But Musgrave, an abler and more
experienced politician, saw that, if the imputations which the
opposition had been in the habit of throwing on the Chancellor were
exhibited with the precision of a legal cha