and could not venture to travel.733 That he had fallen and hurt himself was true; but even those who felt most kindly towards him suspected, and not without strong reason, that he made the most of his convenient misfortune, and, that if he had not shrunk from appearing in public, he would have performed the journey with little difficulty.  His correspondents told him that, if he was really as ill as he thought himself, he would do well to consult the physicians and surgeons of the capital.  Somers, especially, implored him in the most earnest manner to come up to London.  Every hour’s delay was mischievous.  His Grace must conquer his sensibility.  He had only to face calumny courageously, and it would vanish.734 The King, in a few kind lines, expressed his sorrow for the accident.  “You are much wanted here,” he wrote:  “I am impatient to embrace you, and to assure you that my esteem for you is undiminished."735 Shrewsbury answered that he had resolved to resign the seals.736 Somers adjured him not to commit so fatal an error.  If at that moment His Grace should quit office, what could the world think, except that he was condemned by his own conscience?  He would, in fact, plead guilty; he would put a stain on his own honour, and on the honour of all who lay under the same accusation.  It would no longer be possible to treat Fenwick’s story as a romance.  “Forgive me,” Somers wrote, “for speaking after this free manner; for I do own I can scarce be temperate in this matter."737 A few hours later William himself wrote to the same effect.  “I have so much regard for you, that, if I could, I would positively interdict you from doing what must bring such grave suspicions on you.  At any time, I should consider your resignation as a misfortune to myself but I protest to you that, at this time, it is on your account more than on mine that I wish you to remain in my service."738 Sunderland, Portland, Russell and Wharton joined their entreaties to their master’s; and Shrewsbury consented to remain Secretary in name.  But nothing could induce him to face the Parliament which was about to meet.  A litter was sent down to him from London, but to no purpose.  He set out, but declared that he found it impossible to proceed, and took refuge again in his lonely mansion among the hills.739

While these things were passing, the members of both Houses were from every part of the kingdom going up to Westminster.  To the opening of the session, not only England, but all Europe, looked forward with intense anxiety.  Public credit had been deeply injured by the failure of the Land Bank.  The restoration of the currency was not yet half accomplished.  The scarcity of money was still distressing.  Much of the milled silver was buried in private repositories as fast as it came forth from the Mint.  Those politicians who were bent on raising the denomination of the coin had found too ready audience from a population suffering under severe pressure; and, at one time,