numbered those of his opponents by thirteen thousand. Nor did he succeed in attaching his soldiers to him, any more than the people whom he ruled.
As a diplomatist, however, he had eminent qualifications. He was certainly aided in a much greater degree than is usually recognised during his earlier years by his connection with Charles II., and in later life by his unique position as King of England. But his diplomacy was skilful, because he gave constant and minute attention to the combinations of States, and devoted himself in general and in particular to his object with unscrupulous assiduity. A few instances of his talents may well be noticed. His method of fomenting the Scottish disturbances in 1672 was admirable; equally skilful was his rise to the post of Stadtholder (though we may not credit him with all the Machiavelianism that Dumas suggests in the Tulipe Noire). The whole conduct of the English Revolution, which Mr. Lecky so strongly reprobates, would have done credit to Talleyrand. William's perfect acquiescence in James's accession; his cordial sympathy with the King during the earlier years of the reign; his well-balanced demeanour towards Monmouth; his joyful congratulations at the birth of the Prince of Wales (whose existence he so soon repudiated); the disguise of his correspondence with the English leaders of the Revolution; his assurances as to the object of the expedition he was preparing—all lead up to the final triumph, the last steps of which have been thus described (with a
