became clear that all
this compassion was feigned for the purpose of cajoling his Parliament,
that he regarded the refugees with mortal hatred, and that he regretted
nothing so much as his own inability to do what Lewis had done.

On the ninth of November the Houses met. The Commons were summoned to
the bar of the Lords; and the King spoke from the throne. His speech had
been composed by himself. He congratulated his loving subjects on the
suppression of the rebellion in the West: but he added that the speed
with which that rebellion had risen to a formidable height, and the
length of time during which it had continued to rage, must convince
all men how little dependence could be placed on the militia. He had,
therefore, made additions to the regular army. The charge of that army
would henceforth be more than double of what it had been; and he trusted
that the Commons would grant him the means of defraying the increased
expense. He then informed his hearers that he had employed some officers
who had not taken the test; but he knew them to be fit for public trust.
He feared that artful men might avail themselves of this irregularity
to disturb the harmony which existed between himself and his Parliament.
But he would speak out. He was determined not to part with servants on
whose fidelity he could rely, and whose help he might perhaps soon need.
[15]

This explicit declaration that he had broken the laws which were
regarded by the nation as the chief safeguards of the established
religion, and that he was resolved to persist in breaking those laws,
was not likely to soothe the excited feelings of his subjects. The
Lords, seldom disposed to take the lead in opposition to a government,
consented to vote him formal thanks for what he had said. But the
Commons were in a less complying mood. When they had returned to their
own House there was a long silence; and the faces of many of the most
respectable members expressed deep concern. At length Middleton rose and
moved the House to go instantly into committee on the King's speech: but
Sir Edmund Jennings, a zealous Tory from Yorkshire, who was supposed
to speak the sentiments of Danby, protested against this course, and
demanded time for consideration. Sir Thomas Clarges, maternal uncle of
the Duke of Albemarle, and long distinguished in Parliament as a man of
business and a viligant steward of the public money, took the same
side. The feeling of the House could not be mista