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 mistaken. Sir John Ernley, Chancellor of the Exchequer,
insisted that the delay should not exceed forty-eight hours; but
he was overruled; and it was resolved that the discussion should
be postponed for three days.16

The interval was well employed by those who took the lead against