reproach was a bad return for the gold and the blood which
England had lavished in order to make and to keep him a great
sovereign. There was a sharp debate, in which Seymour took part.
With characteristic indelicacy and want of feeling he harangued
the Commons as he had harangued the Court of King's Bench, about
his son's death, and about the necessity of curbing the insolence
of military men. There were loud complaints that the events of
the preceding session had been misrepresented to the public, that
emissaries of the Court, in every part of the kingdom, declaimed
against the absurd jealousies or still more absurd parsimony
which had refused to His Majesty the means of keeping up such an
army as might secure the country against invasion. Even justices
of the peace, it was said, even deputy-lieutenants, had used King
James and King Lewis as bugbears, for the purpose of stirring up
the people against honest and thrifty representatives. Angry
resolutions were passed, declaring it to be the opinion of the
House that the best way to establish entire confidence between
the King and the Estates of the Realm would be to put a brand on
those evil advisers who had dared to breathe in the royal ear
calumnies against a faithful Parliament. An address founded on
these resolutions was voted; many thought that a violent rupture
was inevitable. But William returned an answer so prudent and
gentle that malice itself could not prolong the dispute. By this
time, indeed, a new dispute had begun. The address had scarcely
been moved when the House called for copies of the papers
relating to Kidd's expedition. Somers, conscious of innocence,
knew that it was wise as well as right to be perfectly ingenuous,
and resolved that there should be no concealment. His friends
stood manfully by him, and his enemies struck at him with such
blind fury that their blows injured only themselves. Howe raved