The influence of James was every day more manifest. Charles restored James to his former status by placing him at the head of the Admiralty; and, to avoid subjecting him to the penalties of the Test Act, himself signed all the papers which required the signature of the Lord High Admiral. Seeing that this was received with perfect complacency, he went a step farther, and, in defiance of the Test Act, introduced James again into the Council. This, indeed, excited some murmurs, even the Tories being scandalised at his thus coolly setting aside an Act of Parliament.

No sooner was James reinstated in the Council, than he planned yet more daring changes. Under the plea which he afterwards carried so far in his own reign, of relieving the Dissenters, he sought to relieve the Catholics from their penalties. What his regard was for the Dissenters has been sufficiently shown by their cruel persecution in England, and by his own especial oppression of the Covenanters in Scotland.

One morning, however, Jeffreys, who had lately been admitted to the Council, appeared at the board with an immense bundle of papers and parchments, and informed the king that they were the rolls of the names of the recusants that he had collected during his late circuit. He declared that the gaols were crammed with them, and that their case deserved the serious attention of the king. Lord Keeper North, who saw instantly the drift of the motion, and who had a profound jealousy of Jeffreys, who, he knew, was anxiously looking for the Seals, asked whether all the names in the list belonged to persons who were in prison? Jeffreys replied no, for the prisons could not hold all the persons convicted of recusancy. North then observed, that besides Catholics there were vast numbers of Nonconformists and other persons included in those lists, who were professed enemies of the king, and of Church and State, and that it would be far easier and safer to grant particular pardons to Catholics, than thus at once to set at liberty all the elements of commotion in the kingdom. The blow was struck. Strong as was the Government then, it dared not give a measure of exemption exclusively to the Catholics. The scheme, it was obviously seen, was transparent, and there was a significant silence. Neither Halifax, nor Rochester, nor the more Protestant members having occasion to open their mouths, the Council passed to other business.

But Halifax saw with alarm the advancing influence of the duke, and trembled for his own hold of office, for the duke, he knew, hated him mortally. He, therefore, as a certain resource against this advancing power, advised Charles to call a Parliament, but that Charles had resolved never to do. He still received a considerable sum from Louis, though not so large in amount nor so regularly paid as when his services were more needful; and to decrease his expenditure, he had, during the last year, sent a squadron under Lord Dartmouth to destroy the fortification of Tangier, which he had received as part of the dowry of the queen. Had that Settlement been well managed, it would have given England great advantages in the Mediterranean; but nothing of that kind was well managed by this unpatriotic king. To spare the expenditure necessary for its maintenance, he thus destroyed the defences, and left the place to the Moors, to the great indignation of Portugal, which thought rightly that, if he did not value it, he might have restored it.

Defeated in that quarter, Halifax next endeavoured to stop the advancement of Lord Rochester. This was Lawrence Hyde, the second son of the late Lord Chancellor Clarendon, and the especial favourite of the duke. He had (in 1682) not only been created Earl of Rochester, but made First Commissioner of the Treasury. Halifax beheld in his rise an ominous competitor, especially as the duke was the mainspring of his prosperity. He therefore accused Rochester of negligence or embezzlement in his office, and succeeded in removing him (1684) from the Treasury board to the Presidency of the Council. This Halifax called kicking a man upstairs. Nor did Rochester's promotion end here. He was soon after appointed to the government of Ireland, the old and veteran colleague of Rochester's father, and the staunch champion of Charles in the days of his adversity, being removed to make way for him. The great object, however, was not simply Rochester's promotion, but the organisation of a powerful Catholic army in Ireland, for which it was deemed Ormond was not active enough, this army having reference to James's views on England, which afterwards proved his ruin.

By this appointment Rochester was removed from immediate rivalry with Halifax; but sufficient elements of danger still surrounded that minister. Halifax and his colleagues had succeeded in strengthening the Protestant succession by the marriage of the second daughter of the duke, Anne, to a Protestant prince; but even in this event the influence of Louis had been active. Through the medium of Sunderland, who continued in office, and maintained a close intimacy with the French mistress, the Duchess of Portsmouth, Louis took care that, though the nation would not tolerate any but a Protestant prince for Anne's husband, it should be one of no great importance. George, Prince of Hanover, afterwards George I., had been selected, and made a visit to London, but returned without the princess. The fortune, it had been suggested, was not enough for the penurious German; his father recalled him to marry the Princess of Zell, a circumstance which Anne never forgot or forgave. In the midst of the agitation of the Rye House Plot, and but two days before the execution of Lord William Russell, another wooer appeared in George, brother of the King of Denmark. This young man also had the approbation of Louis, and the match took place a week after his arrival.

Still Halifax felt a growing insecurity in the royal favour. The whole influence of the Duke of York was exerted to ruin him, and he therefore determined once more to attempt to re-establish Monmouth in the king's favour. This popular but weak young man was living in great honour at the Court of the Prince of Orange. Many remonstrances had been made by the Duke of York to his daughter and son-in-law, against their encouragement of a son who had taken so determined a part both against his own father, the king, and himself, their father. But the prince and princess were well aware of Charles's affection for his undutiful son, and therefore did not fear seriously offending him. Under the management of Halifax, Van Citters, the Dutch ambassador in London, went over to the Hague on pretence of negotiating some measure of importance between the two countries. The Prince of Orange affected to comply with the wishes of Charles for the removal of Monmouth. But this nobleman, instead of taking up his residence at Brussels, as was given out, suddenly returned to London privately, had an interview with his father, and as suddenly returned to the Hague, saying that in three months he should be publicly admitted at Court, and the Duke of York be banished afresh. Charles, meantime, had proposed to James to go and hold a Parliament in Scotland, as if conferring a mark of particular honour and confidence on him. But the private visit of Monmouth had not escaped James, nor the correspondence of Halifax with him, and this caused a fresh energy of opposition to that minister to be infused into the duke's creatures at Court. Halifax had recommended a most enlightened measure to the king as regarded the American colonies, which, had it been adopted, might have prevented their loss at a later period. He represented that the grant of local legislatures to them would be the best means of developing their resources, and governing them in peace; but on this admirable suggestion the duke's partisans seized as something especially anti-monarchical and injurious to the power of the king. The duke, the Duchess of Portsmouth, and the Earl of Sunderland re-echoed these opinions, and drew from Charles a promise that unless Halifax retired of himself, he should be dismissed on the first plausible occasion. The influence of the French king was also at work to effect the overthrow of Halifax. It was in vain that Louis had endeavoured to buy him as he had done the king, the duke, and the other ministers; and as he could not be bought, the only alternative was to drive him from office. He was feebly supported by the Lord Keeper North; he was actively and zealously undermined by his colleagues, Sunderland and Godolphin; but still Charles hesitated. He enjoyed the wit and brilliant conversation of Halifax; he knew well his ability, and, still more, he was in a most indolent and undecided frame of mind. Macaulay has well described him at this moment:—"The event depended wholly on the will of Charles, and Charles could not come to a decision. In his perplexity he promised everything to everybody. He would stand by France, he would break with France; he would never meet another Parliament; he would order writs for a Parliament without delay. He assured the Duke of York that Halifax should be dismissed from office, and Halifax that the duke should be sent to Scotland. In public he affected implacable resentment against Monmouth, and in private conveyed to Monmouth assurances of unalterable affection. How long, if the king's life had been protracted, his hesitation would have lasted, and what would have been his resolve, can only be conjectured."

But his time was come. It was not likely that a man who had led the dissipated life that Charles had, would live to a very old age. He was now in his fifty-fifth year, and the twenty-fifth of his reign, that is, reckoning from the Restoration, and not from the death of his father, as the Royalists, who would never admit that a king could be unkinged, did. His health, or, more visibly, his spirits, had lately much failed—no doubt the consequence of that giving way of his debilitated system, which was soon to carry him off. His gaiety had quite forsaken him; he was gloomy, depressed, finding no pleasure in anything, and only at any degree of ease in sauntering away his time amongst his women. It was thought that his conscience began to trouble him for the profligacy of his life, and the blood that had been shed under his rule; but Charles was not a man much troubled with a conscience; he was sinking without being aware of it, and the heaviness of death was lying on him. On Monday, the 2nd of February, 1685, he rose at an early hour from a restless couch. Dr. King, a surgeon and chemist, who had been employed by him in experiments, perceived that he walked heavily, and with an unsteady gait. His face was ghastly, his head drooping, and his hand retained on his stomach. When spoken to he returned no answer, or a very incoherent one. King hastened out, and informed the Earl of Peterborough that the king was in a strange state, and did not speak one word of sense. They returned instantly to the king's apartment, and had scarcely entered it when he fell on the floor in an apoplectic fit. As no time was to be lost, Dr. King, on his own responsibility, bled him. The blood flowed freely, and he recovered his consciousness. When the physicians arrived they perfectly approved of what Dr. King had done, and applied strong stimulants to various parts of his body. The Council ordered one thousand pounds to be paid to Dr. King for his prompt services, but the fee was never paid.

As soon as the king rallied a little, he asked for the queen, who hastened to his bedside, and waited on him with the most zealous affection, till the sight of his sufferings threw her into fits, and the physicians ordered her to her own apartment. Towards evening Charles had a relapse, but the next morning he rallied again, and was so much better, that the physicians issued a bulletin, expressing hope of his recovery; but the next day he changed again for the worse, and on the fourth evening it was clear that his end was at hand. The announcement of his dangerous condition spread consternation through the City; the momentary news of his improvement was received with unequivocal joy, the ringing of bells, and making of bonfires. When the contrary intelligence of his imminent danger was made known, crowds rushed to the churches to pray for his recovery; and it is said the service was interrupted by the sobs and tears of the people. In the royal chapel prayers every two hours were continued during his remaining moments.

James was never a moment from the dying king's bedside. He was afterwards accused of having poisoned him—a suspicion for which there does not appear the slightest foundation; but, apart from natural brotherly regard, James was on the watch to guard the chances of his succession. Every precaution was taken to secure the tranquillity of the City, and to insure an uninterrupted proclamation of his accession. In the room, too, were as constantly a great number of noblemen and bishops. There were the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London, Durham, and Ely, and Bath and Wells, besides twenty-five lords and privy councillors. A bishop, with some of the nobles, took turns to watch each night.