religion services of which it is difficult to overrate either the wickedness or the utility.  To him chiefly it was owing that, at the most critical moment in our history, a French army was not menacing the Batavian frontier and a French fleet hovering about the English coast.  William could not, without staining his own honour, refuse to protect one whom he had not scrupled to employ.  Yet it was no easy task even for William to save that guilty head from the first outbreak of public fury.  For even those extreme politicians of both sides who agreed in nothing else agreed in calling for vengeance on the renegade.  The Whigs hated him as the vilest of the slaves by whom the late government had been served, and the Jacobites as the vilest of the traitors by whom it had been overthrown.  Had he remained in England, he would probably have died by the hand of the executioner, if indeed the executioner had not been anticipated by the populace.  But in Holland a political refugee, favoured by the Stadtholder, might hope to live unmolested.  To Holland Sunderland fled, disguised, it is said, as a woman; and his wife accompanied him.  At Rotterdam, a town devoted to the House of Orange, he thought himself secure.  But the magistrates were not in all the secrets of the Prince, and were assured by some busy Englishmen that His Highness would be delighted to hear of the arrest of the Popish dog, the Judas, whose appearance on Tower Hill was impatiently expected by all London.  Sunderland was thrown into prison, and remained there till an order for his release arrived from Whitehall.  He then proceeded to Amsterdam, and there changed his religion again.  His second apostasy edified his wife as much as his first apostasy had edified his master.  The Countess wrote to assure her pious friends in England that her poor dear lord’s heart had at last been really touched by divine grace, and that, in spite of all her afflictions, she was comforted by seeing him so true a convert.  We may, however, without any violation of Christian charity, suspect that he was still the same false, callous, Sunderland who, a few months before, had made Bonrepaux shudder by denying the existence of a God, and had, at the same time, won the heart of James by pretending to believe in transubstantiation.  In a short time the banished man put forth an apology for his conduct.  This apology, when examined, will be found to amount merely to a confession that he had committed one series of crimes in order to gain James’s favour, and another series in order to avoid being involved in James’s ruin.  The writer concluded by announcing his intention to pass all the rest of his life in penitence and prayer.  He soon retired from Amsterdam to Utrecht, and at Utrecht made himself conspicuous by his regular and devout attendance on the ministrations of Huguenot preachers.  If his letters and those of his wife were to be trusted, he had done for ever with ambition.  He longed indeed to be permitted