Other dismissals and other promotions, at this time, astonished England. Ardent and anxious, like all innovators, to take possession of the establishments of charity and education, the king made an attempt to oblige the administrators of the Charter House of London to admit invalid Catholics into their hospital. "An Act of Parliament opposes it," responded the governor. "What is that to the purpose?" said a courtier. "It is very much to the purpose, I think," gravely replied the venerable Duke of Ormond; "an Act of Parliament is, in my judgment, no light thing."
James demanded from the University of Cambridge the grade of Master of Arts for a Benedictine monk; upon the refusal of the authorities, the Vice-Chancellor, Pechell, was called before the High Commission, brutally reprimanded by Jeffreys, and suspended from his office. An analogous case, yet more violent, took place at Oxford during an election for a president of Magdalen College. The fellows claimed their rights and their independence; the king wished to impose his candidate upon them. "They shall feel the whole weight of my hand," said he, angrily, to the dignitaries of the University. The fellows were deprived of their revenues, the doors of the president's house were forced, and the royal candidate was installed. The Catholics took possession of that endowment, one of the richest at Oxford. The contest with the Anglican Church was now irrevocably begun. By a good fortune, such as it had not for many years been favored with, this Church was henceforth enrolled among the defenders of the rights and liberties of the English people.
The king ordered new elections, not, however, without disquietude as to their results. The House of Lords itself appeared hostile, and the new hopes of maternity which the queen gave, after numerous accidents, inspired James more than ever with the desire of finishing a work that might be perpetuated by his successor. All the lordly tenants of the counties were ordered to interrogate their subordinates, and to assure themselves of their electoral intentions. The Catholics and the Dissenters were to occupy as many as possible of the municipal offices. The king had badly judged the pride of the great lords: one-half of the lord-lieutenants peremptorily refused to lend themselves to the odious service required of them. They were summarily dismissed. The crown had some difficulty in finding successors.
No private intimation, no official warning, opened the eyes of King James, infatuated as he was by his real power and his imaginary rights; sincerely preoccupied with his fool-hardy undertaking, he showed neither prudence nor sagacity. "The world has much exaggerated the ability of his Majesty," said Bonrepaux, who knew him well and judged him accurately; "he has less mind than King Charles, without having more virtue."
To the Anglican Church belongs the honor of striking the first blow in favor of the menaced liberties of England. On the 27th of April, 1688, the king issued a new Declaration of Indulgence, repeating and commenting upon those preceding, and announced his intention of convoking Parliament in the month of November. On the 4th of May he ordered that this declaration should be read in all the churches on the 20th.
This manœuvre was clever, yet at the same time fool-hardy. The Anglican clergy disapproved of the measure, both religiously and politically; but the delay was brief and the means of communication difficult, consequently uniformity of action was deemed impossible. They considered the remoteness, the feebleness, and the effect of non-resistance; London, however, as usual, gave the signal for resistance; a reunion of the clergy, together with a council of bishops, resolved not to yield to the illegal exactions of the king. The most eminent Dissenters supported by their counsels the courage of the prelates. On the 18th, at Lambeth, the residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, a petition was signed by the primate and his diocesans—the Bishops of St. Asaph, of Ely, of Chichester, of Bath, of Peterborough, and of Bristol. The Bishop of London, Compton, the leader of this movement, having been suspended, was unable to sign. The petition, drawn up by the archbishop himself, in a style dry, heavy, and confused, exculpated the prelates from all intolerance as well as from all rebellion. The laws accorded to the king only the right to modify the ecclesiastical statutes. The Declaration of Indulgence not being a legal act, the bishops could not permit it to be read in their dioceses.
The same evening six bishops presented themselves at Whitehall: the archbishop was ill, and besides his approach to the court had been interdicted. The Bishop of St. Asaph desired to acquaint Sunderland with the contents of the petition; the minister refused to read the document, but he introduced the bishops to the king. The secret had been rigorously kept. James expected some objections regarding the form of the Declaration. "This is my Lord of Canterbury's hand," said the king, opening the paper. "Yes, Sire, his own hand," was the reply. James read the petition, and his brow became overcast. "This is a standard of rebellion," said he at last. The Bishop of Bristol, Sir John Trelawney, fell upon his knees. "Rebellion!" cried he, "for God's sake. Sire, do not say so hard a thing of us. No Trelawney can be a rebel. Remember that my family has fought for the crown. Remember how I served your Majesty when Monmouth was in the West." "We put down the last rebellion," said Lake, Bishop of Chichester; "we shall not raise another." "I hope you will grant us that liberty of conscience which you grant to all mankind," said Ken, the pious Bishop of Bath. As was his custom, James repeated his former remark, "This is rebellion; this is a standard of rebellion. I will have my Declaration published." "Sire," answered Ken, "we have two duties to perform—our duty to God, and our duty to your Majesty. We honor you, but we fear God." "Have I deserved this?" said the king; "I who have been such a friend to your Church? What do you do here? Go to your dioceses and see that I am obeyed. I will keep this paper. I will remember you that have signed it." "God's will be done," said Ken. The bishops retired after this pious invocation. The next morning, through indiscretion or treachery, the petition of the bishops was everywhere published. The king remained silent. The following Sunday only four of the clergy of London read the Declaration. Their congregations rose and withdrew.
Everywhere the provinces followed the example of the capital; a great number of the bishops sent in their approval of the petition. In the dioceses where the bishops were inclined to comply with the royal demand, the majority of the clergy disobeyed. "I cannot reasonably expect your Honor's protection," wrote a poor clergyman of the diocese of the Bishop of Rochester; "God's will be done. I must choose suffering rather than sin." The enthusiasm of the people equalled the resolution of the clergy. "The Anglican Church has risen in public estimation to an incredible degree," wrote the Dutch minister to the States-General: "the Nonconformists repeat everywhere that they would rather endure the penal laws than separate their cause from that of the prelates."