But he had other reasons to urge against the slur which it was proposed to throw upon his old friend.

"Most humbly and with much earnestness he besought his Majesty seriously to reflect what an ill savour it would have over the whole kingdom, at this time of a war with at least two powerful enemies abroad together, in so great discontent and jealousy at home, and when the Court was in no great reputation with the people, to remove a person, the most loved and reverenced for his most exemplary fidelity and wisdom, who had deserved as much from his blessed father and himself as a subject can do from his prince, a nobleman of the best quality, the best allied and the best beloved; to remove at such a time such a person, and with such circumstances, from his counsels and his trust."

The King was not of a mould to resist plain speaking like this, and when not supported by the presence of those who made him their tool and instrument, he seldom managed to make way against the vehemence of Clarendon's rebukes. It could hardly be pleasant for a monarch to be told that what he designs is base ingratitude; that his throne is in danger; the reputation of his Court in evil savour; that both require such support as they may be able to get from men of reverence and station, and that he would be mad to alienate any support from such men that may be vouchsafed to him; yet this was the plain meaning of Clarendon's words. But Charles hesitated to go back, repulsed, to those who had made him their mouthpiece. He remained "rather moved and troubled than convinced." But fortunately Clarendon found an unexpected ally in the Duke of York, who had joined the King and himself at the interview, with the intention, it appears, of supporting the King's purpose. To him Clarendon restated his arguments, and urged him to do the best service to the King his brother "by dissuading him from a course that would prove so mischievous to him." For this once, the Duke was converted to Clarendon's view, and "prevailed with the King to lay aside the thought of it." [Footnote: Charles not rarely showed a respect for his brother's opinion which was not founded upon any high estimate of his abilities. Clarendon himself remarks this when commenting upon the failure of any attempt to arouse jealousy between the brothers. Charles, he says, "had a just affection for him, and a confidence in him, without thinking better of his natural parts than he thought there was just cause for; and yet, which made it the more wondered at, he did often depart, in matters of the highest moment, from his own judgment to comply with his brother" (Life, iii. 62).] Once more the Court conspirators were baulked of their purpose. They could press the King no further; but

"only made so much use of their want of success by presenting to his Majesty his irresoluteness, which made the Chancellor still impose upon him, that the King did not think the better of the Chancellor or the Treasurer for his receding at that time from prosecuting what he had so positively resolved to have done." He could only promise "to be firmer to his next determination."

Between the reproaches of the conspirators of the Court and the scoldings of the stern Chancellor, the King plays no very dignified figure. Even Charles's easy humour could not but owe a grudge to one who so often rated him like a schoolboy in the solemn phrases of State ceremony.

The year 1666 opened on a prospect far from cheering either to the country or to those charged with its administration. There were symptoms enough of actual and impending ills to make it no hazardous prophecy for the astrologers to predict that it was to be "a year of dismal changes and alterations throughout the world." [Footnote: Life, iii 39.] The war dragged on its weary course, with what seemed to be but delusive hopes of settlement. Financial troubles were becoming urgent, and the mood of Parliament, without being actually refractory, was stubborn and suspicious. The Plague was still pressing with grievous heaviness, even though there were symptoms that it was somewhat alleviated. Throughout the nation there was murmuring and discontent, at times breaking out into active resistance to the law; and the Court was in increasingly worse odour with the people. It aroused at once the anger of those whom its extravagance seemed to insult; the disgust of those who had some respect for decency; and the contempt and bitter grief of those who prized the honour of the Crown, and desired to maintain the loyalty of the nation.

Charles's disappointment of any hope of legitimate offspring seemed to dissipate any frail purpose he had entertained of ordering his life and Court with more regard to the elementary dictates of decency and decorum. The influence of Lady Castlemaine was supreme; and the grossness of the palace atmosphere was made all the greater because his favourite mistress added the character of procuress to that of courtesan.

Clarendon would fain have found some excuse for the degradation of the family to whose service his life had been devoted. Apart from all political inclinations and all thoughts of personal ambition, it is absolutely certain that what largely aroused in Clarendon that enthusiastic loyalty which he felt for Charles I. was the consummate dignity of a pure life. Dignity as well as purity were alike banished from the Court of Charles II., with the examples before it of his own more open debauchery and of his brother's more morose viciousness, which was rendered all the uglier by his sullen bigotry. With a discerning eye Clarendon read the prevailing defects of the Stuart race—their proneness to succumb to flattery and vicious influence, and then obstinately to sacrifice every good inclination to the acquired vice.

"They were too much inclined to like men at first sight, and did not love the conversation of men of many more years than themselves, and thought age not only troublesome, but impertinent. They did not love to deny, and less to strangers than to their friends; not out of bounty or generosity, which was a flower that did never grow naturally in the heart of either of the families, that of Stuart or of Bourbon, but out of an unskilfulness and defect in the countenance; and when they prevailed with themselves to make some pause rather than to deny, importunity removed all resolution." [Footnote: Life, iii. 63.]

It is a heavy indictment in the mouth of one who had felt its truth by bitter experience and to whom its avowal caused the deepest pain.