The leading malecontents, who, a few minutes before, scared by
finding that their violence had brought on a crisis for which
they were not prepared, had talked about the duty of mutual
forgiveness and close union, instantly became again as rancorous
as ever. One danger, they said, was over. So far well. But it was
the duty of the representatives of the people to take such steps
as might make it impossible that there should ever again be such
danger. Every adviser of the Crown, who had been concerned in the
procuring or passing of any exorbitant grant, ought to be
excluded from all access to the royal ear. A list of the privy
councillors, furnished in conformity with the order made two days
before, was on the table. That list the clerk was ordered to
read. Prince George of Denmark and the Archbishop of Canterbury
passed without remark. But, as soon as the Chancellor's name had
been pronounced, the rage of his enemies broke forth. Twice
already, in the course of that stormy session, they had attempted
to ruin his fame and his fortunes; and twice his innocence and
his calm fortitude had confounded all their politics. Perhaps, in
the state of excitement to which the House had been wrought up, a
third attack on him might be successful. Orator after orator
declaimed against him. He was the great offender. He was
responsible for all the grievances of which the nation
complained. He had obtained exorbitant grants for himself. He had
defended the exorbitant grants obtained by others. He had not,
indeed, been able, in the late debates, to raise his own voice
against the just demands of the nation. But it might well be
suspected that he had in secret prompted the ungracious answer of
the King and encouraged the pertinacious resistance of the Lords.
Sir John Levison Gower, a noisy and acrimonious Tory, called for