e might,
if he had been a Protestant, nay, if he had been a moderate Roman
Catholic, have had a prosperous and glorious reign. Perhaps it might not
be too late for him to retrieve his errors. It was difficult to believe
that he could be so dull and perverse as not to have profited by the
terrible discipline which he had recently undergone; and, if that
discipline had produced the effects which might reasonably be expected
from it, England might still enjoy, under her legitimate ruler, a larger
measure of happiness and tranquillity than she could expect from the
administration of the best and ablest usurper.

We should do great injustice to those who held this language, if we
supposed that they had, as a body, ceased to regard Popery and despotism
with abhorrence. Some zealots might indeed be found who could not bear
the thought of imposing conditions on their King, and who were ready
to recall him without the smallest assurance that the Declaration of
Indulgence should not be instantly republished, that the High Commission
should not be instantly revived, that Petre should not be again seated
at the Council Board, and that the fellows of Magdalene should not again
be ejected. But the number of these men was small. On the other hand,
the number of those Royalists, who, if James would have acknowledged
his mistakes and promised to observe the laws, were ready to rally
round him, was very large. It is a remarkable fact that two able and
experienced statesmen, who had borne a chief part in the Revolution,
frankly acknowledged, a few days after the Revolution had been
accomplished, their apprehension that a Restoration was close at hand.
"If King James were a Protestant," said Halifax to Reresby, "we could
not keep him out four months." "If King James," said Danby to the
same person about the same time, "would but give the country some
satisfaction about religion, which he might easily do, it would be very
hard to make head against him." [9] Happily for England, James was, as
usual, his own worst enemy. No word indicating that he took blame
to himself on account of the past, or that he intended to govern
constitutionally for the future, could be extracted from him. Every
letter, every rumour, that found its way from Saint Germains to England
made men of sense fear that, if, in his present temper, he should be
restored to power, the second tyranny would be worse than the first.
Thus the Tories, as a body, were forced to admit