en them by the Revolution. The second madness
would, in all probability, like the first, have ended in their
proscription, dispersion, decimation, but for the magnanimity and
wisdom of that great prince, who, bent on fulfilling his mission, and
insensible alike to flattery and to outrage, coldly and inflexibly saved
them in their own despite.

It seemed that nothing but blood would satisfy them. The aspect and
the temper of the House of Commons reminded men of the time of
the ascendency of Oates; and, that nothing might be wanting to the
resemblance, Oates himself was there. As a witness, indeed, he could now
render no service: but he had caught the scent of carnage, and came to
gloat on the butchery in which he could no longer take an active part.
His loathsome features were again daily seen, and his well known "Ah
Laard, ah Laard!" was again daily heard in the lobbies and in the
gallery, [539] The House fell first on the renegades of the late reign.
Of those renegades the Earls of Peterborough and Salisbury were the
highest in rank, but were also the lowest in intellect: for Salisbury
had always been an idiot; and Peterborough had long been a dotard. It
was however resolved by the Commons that both had, by joining the Church
of Rome, committed high treason, and that both should be impeached,
[540] A message to that effect was sent to the Lords. Poor old
Peterborough was instantly taken into custody, and was sent, tottering
on a crutch, and wrapped up in woollen stuffs, to the Tower. The next
day Salisbury was brought to the bar of his peers. He muttered something
about his youth and his foreign education, and was then sent to bear
Peterborough company, [541] The Commons had meanwhile passed on to
offenders of humbler station and better understanding. Sir Edward Hales
was brought before them. He had doubtless, by holding office in defiance
of the Test Act, incurred heavy penalties. But these penalties fell far
short of what the revengeful spirit of the victorious party demanded;
and he was committed as a traitor, [542] Then Obadiah Walker was led in.
He behaved with a pusillanimity and disingenuousness which deprived him
of all claim to respect or pity. He protested that he had never changed
his religion, that his opinions had always been and still were those of
some highly respectable divines of the Church of England, and that there
were points on which he differed from the Papists. In spite of this
quibbling, he was