wisely used, might be fatal to them. They had been taught, by a
cruel experience, that the antipathy of the nation to their
religion was not a fancy which would yield to the mandate of a
prince, but a profound sentiment, the growth of five generations,
diffused through all ranks and parties, and intertwined not less
closely with the principles of the Tory than with the principles
of the Whig. It was indeed in the power of the King, by the
exercise of his prerogative of mercy, to suspend the operation of
the penal laws. It might hereafter be in his power, by discreet
management, to obtain from the Parliament a repeal of the acts
which imposed civil disabilities on those who professed his
religion. But, if he attempted to subdue the Protestant feeling
of England by rude means, it was easy to see that the violent
compression of so powerful and elastic a spring would be followed
by as violent a recoil. The Roman Catholic peers, by prematurely
attempting to force their way into the Privy Council and the
House of Lords, might lose their mansions and their ample
estates, and might end their lives as traitors on Tower Hill, or
as beggars at the porches of Italian convents.

Such was the feeling of William Herbert, Earl of Powis, who was
generally regarded as the chief of the Roman Catholic
aristocracy, and who, according to Oates, was to have been prime
minister if the Popish plot had succeeded. John Lord Bellasyse
took the same view of the state of affairs. In his youth he had
fought gallantly for Charles the First, had been rewarded after
the Restoration with high honours and commands, and had quitted
them when the Test Act was passed. With these distinguished
leaders all the noblest and most opulent members of their church
concurred, except Lord Arundell of Wardour, an old man fast