not possibly continue for another year to be on the terms
on which they had been during the preceding century,
and that there must be between them either absolute
union or deadly enmity. Their enmity would bring
frightful calamities, not on themselves alone, but on all
the civilised world. Their union would be the best
security for the prosperity of both, for the internal tran-
quillity of the island, for the just balance of power
among European states, and for the immunities of all
Protestant countries. On the twenty eighth of February
the Commons listened with uncovered heads to the last
message that bore William's sign manual. An unhappy
accident, he told them, had forced him to make to them
in writing a communication which he would gladly have
made from the throne. He had, in the first
He had, in the first year of his
reign, expressed his desire to see an union accomplished
between England and Scotland. He was convinced that
nothing could more conduce to the safety and happiness
of both. He should think it his peculiar felicity if,
before the close of his reign, some happy expedient.
could be devised for making the two kingdoms one; and
he, in the most earnest manner, recommended the ques-
tion to the consideration of the Houses. It was resolved
that the message should be taken into consideration on
Saturday, the seventh of March.

But on the first of March humours of menacing appearance showed themselves in the king's knee. On the fourth of March he was attacked by fever; on the fifth his strength failed greatly; and on the sixth he was scarcely kept alive by cordials. The Abjuration Bill and a money bill were awaiting his assent. That assent he felt that he should not be able to give in person. He therefore ordered a commission to be prepared for his signature. His hand was now too weak to form the letters of his name, and it was suggested that a stamp

CHAP.

XXV.

1702.

XXV.

1702.

CHAP. should be prepared. On the seventh of March the stamp was ready. The Lord Keeper and the clerks of the parliament came, according to usage, to witness the signing of the commission. But they were detained some hours in the antechamber while he was in one of the paroxysms of his malady. Meanwhile the Houses were sitting. It was Saturday, the seventh, the day on which the Commons had resolved to take into consideration the question of the union with Scotland. But that subject was not mentioned. It was known that the King had but a few hours to live; and the members asked each other anxiously whether it was likely that the Abjuration and money bills would be passed before he died. After sitting long in the expectation of a message, the Commons adjourned till six in the afternoon. By that time William had recovered himself sufficiently to put the stamp on the parchment which authorised his commissioners to act for him. In the evening, when the Houses had assembled, Black Rod knocked. The Commons were summoned to the bar of the Lords; the commission was read, the Abjuration Bill and the Malt Bill became laws, and both Houses adjourned till nine o'clock in the morning of the following day. The following day was Sunday. But there was little chance that William would live through the night. It was of the highest importance that, within the shortest possible time after his decease, the successor designated by the Bill of Rights and the Act of Succession should receive the homage of the Estates of the Realm, and be publicly proclaimed in the Council: and the most rigid Pharisee in the Society for the Reformation of Manners could hardly deny that it was lawful to save the state, even on the Sabbath.

Albemarle

The King meanwhile was sinking fast. had arrived at Kensington from the Hague, exhausted

XXV.

by rapid travelling. His master kindly bade him go to CHAP. rest for some hours, and then summoned him to make his report. That report was in all respects satisfactory. 1702. The States General were in the best temper; the troops, the provisions and the magazines were in the best order. Every thing was in readiness for an early campaign. William received the intelligence with the calmness of a man whose work was done. He was under no illusion as to his danger. "I am fast drawing," he said, "to my end." His end was worthy of his life. His intellect was not for a moment clouded. His fortitude was the more admirable because he was not willing to die. He had very lately said to one of those whom he most loved: "You know that I never feared death; there have been times when I should have wished it; but, now that this great new prospect is opening before me, I do wish to stay here a little longer." Yet no weakness, no querulousness, disgraced the noble close of that noble career. To the physicians the King returned his thanks graciously and gently. "I know that you have done all that skill and learning could do for me: but the case is beyond your art; and I submit." From the words which escaped him he seemed to be frequently engaged in mental prayer. Burnet and Tenison remained many hours in the sick room. He professed to them his firm belief in the truth of the Christian religion, and received the sacrament from their hands with great seriousness. The antechambers were crowded all night with lords and privy councillors. He ordered several of them to be called in, and exerted himself to take leave of them with a few kind and cheerful words. Among the English who were admitted to his bedside. were Devonshire and Ormond. But there were in the crowd those who felt as no Englishman could feel, friends of his youth who had been true to him, and to

СНАР.
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1702.

whom he had been true, through all vicissitudes of
fortune; who had served him with unalterable fidelity
when his Secretaries of State, his Treasury and his
Admiralty had betrayed him; who had never on any
field of battle, or in an atmosphere tainted with loath-
some and deadly disease, shrunk from placing their own
lives in jeopardy to save his, and whose truth he had at
the cost of his own popularity rewarded with bounteous
munificence. He strained his feeble voice to thank
Auverquerque for the affectionate and loyal services of
thirty years.
To Albemarle he gave the keys of his
closet, and of his private drawers. "You know," he
said, "what to do with them." By this time he could
scarcely respire. "Can this," he said to the physicians,
"last long?" He was told that the end was approach-
ing. He swallowed a cordial, and asked for Bentinck.
Those were his last articulate words. Bentinck in-
stantly came to the bedside, bent down, and placed his
ear close to the King's mouth. The lips of the dying
man moved; but nothing could be heard. The King
took the hand of his earliest friend, and pressed it
tenderly to his heart. In that moment, no doubt, all
that had cast a slight passing cloud over their long and
pure friendship was forgotten. It was now between
seven and eight in the morning. He closed his eyes,
and gasped for breath. The bishops knelt down and
read the commendatory prayer. When it ended William

was no more.

When his remains were laid out, it was found that he wore next to his skin a small piece of black silk riband. The lords in waiting ordered it to be taken off. It contained a gold ring and a lock of the hair of Mary.

INDEX.