The game which the Jesuits were playing was no new game.  A hundred years before they had preached up political freedom, just as they were now preaching up religious freedom.  They had tried to raise the republicans against Henry the Fourth and Elizabeth, just as they were now trying to raise the Protestant Dissenters against the Established Church.  In the sixteenth century, the tools of Philip the Second were constantly preaching doctrines that bordered on Jacobinism, constantly insisting on the right of the people to cashier kings, and of every private citizen to plunge his dagger into the heart of a wicked ruler.  In the seventeenth century, the persecutors of the Huguenots were crying out against the tyranny of the Established Church of England, and vindicating with the utmost fervour the right of every man to adore God after his own fashion.  In both cases they were alike insincere.  In both cases the fool who had trusted them would have found himself miserably duped.  A good and wise man would doubtless disapprove of the arbitrary measures of Elizabeth.  But would he have really served the interests of political liberty, if he had put faith in the professions of the Romish Casuists, joined their party, and taken a share in Northumberland’s revolt, or in Babington’s conspiracy?  Would he not have been assisting to establish a far worse tyranny than that which he was trying to put down?  In the same manner, a good and wise man would doubtless see very much to condemn in the conduct of the Church of England under the Stuarts.  But was he therefore to join the King and the Catholics against that Church?  And was it not plain that, by so doing, he would assist in setting up a spiritual despotism, compared with which the despotism of the Establishment was as a little finger to the loins, as a rod of whips to a rod of scorpions?

Lewis had a far stronger mind than James.  He had at least an equally high sense of honour.  He was in a much less degree the slave of his priests.  His Protestant subjects had all the security for their rights of conscience which law and solemn compact could give.  Had that security been found sufficient?  And was not one such instance enough for one generation?

The plan of James seems to us perfectly intelligible.  The toleration which, with the concurrence and applause of all the most cruel persecutors in Europe, he was offering to his people, was meant simply to divide them.  This is the most obvious and vulgar of political artifices.  We have seen it employed a hundred times within our own memory.  At this moment we see the Carlists in France hallooing on the Extreme Left against the Centre Left.  Four years ago the same trick was practised in England.  We heard old buyers and sellers of boroughs, men who had been seated in the House of Commons by the unsparing use of ejectments, and who had, through their whole lives, opposed every measure which tended to increase the power of the democracy, abusing the Reform Bill