CHAP. that a Secretary of State could in such times render servic for which it might be wise in Lewis to pay largely. The Ambassador told his master that six thousand guineas wa the smallest gratification that could be offered to so im portant a minister. Lewis consented to go as high as twenty five thousand crowns, equivalent to about five thousand si hundred pounds sterling. It was agreed that Sunderland should receive this sum yearly, and that he should, in return exert all his influence to prevent the reassembling of the Parliament.* He joined himself therefore to the Jesuitical cabal, and made so dexterous an use of the influence of that cabal that he was appointed to succeed Halifax in the high dignity of Lord President without being required to resign the far more active and lucrative post of Secretary.† He felt, however, that he could never hope to obtain paramount influence in the Court while he was supposed to belong to the Established Church. All religions were the same to him. In private circles, indeed, he was in the habit of talking with profane contempt of the most sacred things. He therefore determined to let the King have the delight and glory of effecting a conversion. Some management, however, was necessary. No man is utterly without regard for the opinion of his fellow creatures: and even Sunderland, though not very sensible to shame, flinched from the infamy of public apostasy. He played his part with rare adroitness. To the world he showed himself as a Protestant. In the Royal Closet he assumed the character of an earnest enquirer after truth, who was almost persuaded to declare himself a Roman Catholic, and who, while waiting for fuller illumination, was disposed to render every service in his power to the professors of the old faith. James, who was never very discerning, and who in religious matters was absolutely blind, suffered himself, notwithstanding all that he had seen of human knavery, of the knavery of courtiers as a class, and of the knavery of Sunderland in particular, to be duped into the belief that divine grace had touched the most false and callous of human hearts. During many months the wily minister continued Nov. 26. 26 Barillon, Nov. 18. 1685; Lewis to a pour le jeu, et les pertes considerables qu'il y fait, incommodent fort ses affaires. Il n'aime pas le vin ; et il haït les femmes.” It appears from the Council Book that he took his place as President on the 4th of December, 1685. be regarded at court as a promising catechumen, witht exhibiting himself to the public in the character of a negade.* He early suggested to the King the expediency of appointg a secret committee of Roman Catholics to advise on all atters affecting the interests of their religion. This comittee met sometimes at Chiffinch's lodgings, and sometimes the official apartments of Sunderland, who, though still ominally a Protestant, was admitted to all its deliberations, nd soon obtained a decided ascendency over the other embers. Every Friday the Jesuitical cabal dined with the ecretary. The conversation at table was free; and the eaknesses of the prince whom the confederates hoped to manage were not spared. To Petre Sunderland promised a ardinal's hat; to Castelmaine a splendid embassy to Rome; → Dover a lucrative command in the Guards; and to Tyrconel high employment in Ireland. Thus bound together by he strongest ties of interest, these men addressed themselves the task of subverting the Treasurer's power.† СНАР. VI. There were two Protestant members of the cabinet who Perfidy of ook no decided part in the struggle. Jeffreys was at this Jeffreys. ime tortured by a cruel internal malady which had been ggravated by intemperance. At a dinner which a wealthy Alderman gave to some of the leading members of the goernment, the Lord Treasurer and the Lord Chancellor were o drunk that they stripped themselves almost stark naked, nd were with difficulty prevented from climbing up a signpost to drink His Majesty's health. The pious Treasurer scaped with nothing but the scandal of the debauch: but he Chancellor brought on a violent fit of his complaint. His ife was for some time thought to be in serious danger. ames expressed great uneasiness at the thought of losing a minister who suited him so well, and said, with some truth, hat the loss of such a man could not be easily repaired. effreys, when he became convalescent, promised his support o both the contending parties, and waited to see which of hem would prove victorious. Some curious proofs of his uplicity are still extant. It has been already said that the * Bonrepaux was not so easily deeived as James. "En son particulier il Sunderland) n'en professe aucune (region), et en parle fort librement. Ces ortes de discours seroient en exécration n France. Ici ils sont ordinaires parmi un certain nombre de gens du pais."- + Life of James the Second, ii. 74. 77. 29 CHAP. two French agents who were then resident in London ha VI. Godolphin. was divided the English court between them. Bonrepaux Wa constantly with Rochester; and Barillon lived with Sunder land. Lewis was informed in the same week by Bonrepar that the Chancellor was entirely with the Treasurer, and by Barillon that the Chancellor was in league with the Secretary.* Godolphin, cautious and taciturn, did his best to preserv neutrality. His opinions and wishes were undoubtedly with Rochester: but his office made it necessary for him to be in The Queen. constant attendance on the Queen; and he was naturally unwilling to be on bad terms with her. There is indeed some reason to believe that he regarded her with an attachment more romantic than often finds place in the hearts of veteran statesmen; and circumstances, which it is now necessary to relate, had thrown her entirely into the hands of the Jesuitical cabal.t Amours of The King, stern as was his temper and grave as was his the King. deportment, was scarcely less under the influence of female attractions than his more lively and amiable brother had been. The beauty, indeed, which distinguished the favourite ladies of Charles was not necessary to James. Barbara Palmer, Eleanor Gwynn, and Louisa de Querouaille were among the finest women of their time. James, when young, had surrendered his liberty, descended below his rank, and incurred the displeasure of his family, for the coarse features of Anne Hyde. He had soon, to the great diversion of the whole court, been drawn away from his plain consort by a plainer mistress, Arabella Churchill. His second wife, though twenty years younger than himself, and of no unpleasing face or figure, had frequent reason to complain of his inconstancy. But of Catharine all his illicit attachments the strongest was that which bound Sedley. him to Catharine Sedley. This woman was the daughter of Sir Charles Sedley, one of the most brilliant and profligate wits of the Restoration. The licentiousness of his writings is not redeemed by much grace or vivacity; but the charms of his conversation were acknowledged even by sober men who had no esteem for his character. To sit near him at the theatre, and to hear his criticisms on VI. new play, was regarded as an intellectual treat.* Dryden CHAP. d done him the honour to make him a principal interlocutor the Dialogue on Dramatic Poesy. The morals of Sedley ere such as, even in that age, gave great scandal. He on e occasion, after a wild revel, exhibited himself without a red of clothing in the balcony of a tavern near Covent Garn, and harangued the people who were passing in language indecent and profane that he was driven in by a shower of ickbats, was prosecuted for a misdemeanour, was sentenced a heavy fine, and was reprimanded by the Court of King's ench in the most cutting terms.† His daughter had inheted his abilities and his impudence. Personal charms she d none, with the exception of two brilliant eyes, the lustre which, to men of delicate taste, seemed fierce and unfemine. Her form was lean, her countenance haggard. Charles, ough he liked her conversation, laughed at her ugliness, and id that the priests must have recommended her to his brother way of penance. She well knew that she was not handme, and jested freely on her own homeliness. Yet, with range inconsistency she loved to adorn herself magnificently, ad drew on herself much keen ridicule by appearing in the eatre and the ring plastered, painted, clad in Brussels lace, ittering with diamonds, and affecting all the graces of ghteen.t The nature of her influence over James is not easily to be plained. He was no longer young. He was a religious an: at least he was willing to make for his religion exerons and sacrifices from which the great majority of those ho are called religious men would shrink. It seems strange at any attraction should have drawn him into a course of fe which he must have regarded as highly criminal; and in is case none could understand where the attraction lay. atharine herself was astonished by the violence of his pason. "It cannot be my beauty," she said; "for he must see at I have none; and it cannot be my wit; for he has not nough to know that I have any." At the moment of the King's accession, a sense of the new sponsibility which lay on him made his mind for a time eculiarly open to religious impressions. He formed and nnounced many good resolutions, spoke in public with great everity of the impious and licentious manners of the age, and * Pepys, Oct 4. 1664. Ibid. July 1. 1663. See Dorset's satirical lines on her. СНАР. Intrigues of Roch ester in favour of in private assured his Queen and his confessor that he would see Catharine Sedley no more. He wrote to his mistres entreating her to quit the apartments which she occupied at Whitehall, and to go to a house in St. James's Square which had been splendidly furnished for her at his expense. He at the same time promised to allow her a large pension from his privy purse. Catharine, clever, strongminded, intrepid, and conscious of her power, refused to stir. In a few months it began to be whispered that the services of Chiffinch were again employed, and that the mistress frequently passed and repassed through that private door through which Father Huddleston had borne the host to the bedside of Charles. The King's Protestant ministers had, it seems, conceived a hope that their master's infatuation for this woman might cure him of the more pernicious infatuation which impelled him to attack their religion. She had all the talents which could qualify her to play on his feelings, to make game of his scruples, to set before him in a strong light the difficulties and dangers into which he was running headlong. Rochester, the champion of the Church, exerted himself to strengthen her influence. Ormond, who is popularly regarded as the Catharine personification of all that is pure and highminded in the Sedley. English Cavalier, encouraged the design. Even Lady Rochester was not ashamed to cooperate, and to cooperate in the very worst way. Her office was to direct the jealousy of the injured wife towards a young lady who was perfectly innocent. The whole court took notice of the coldness and rudeness with which the Queen treated the poor girl on whom suspicion had been thrown: but the cause of Her Majesty's ill humour was a mystery. For a time the intrigue went on prosperously and secretly. Catharine often told the King plainly what the Protestant Lords of the Council only dared to hint in the most delicate phrases. His crown, she said, was at stake: the old dotard Arundell and the blustering Tyrconnel would lead him to his ruin. It is possible that her caresses might have done what the united exhortations of the Lords and the Commons, of the House of Austria and the Holy See, had failed to do, but for a strange mishap which, changed the whole face of affairs. James, in a fit of fondness, determined to make his mistress Countess of Dorchester in her own right. Catharine saw all the peril of such a step, and declined the invidious honour. Her lover was obstinate, and himself forced the patent into her hands. She at last |