But, if he bore a chief part in a revolution which should confound all the schemes of the Papists, which should put an end to the long vassalage of England, and which should transfer the regal power to an illustrious pair whom he had united, he might emerge from his eclipse with new splendour.

The Whigs, whose animosity had nine years before driven him from office, would, on his auspicious reappearance, join their acclamations to the acclamations of his old friends the Cavaliers.
Already there had been a complete reconciliation between him and one of the most distinguished of those who had formerly been managers of his impeachment, the Earl of Devonshire.

The two noblemen had met at a village in the Peak, and had exchanged assurances of good will.
Devonshire had frankly owned that the Whigs had been guilty of a great injustice, and had declared that they were now convinced of their error.
Danby, on his side, had also recantations to make.

He had once held, or pretended to hold, the doctrine of passive obedience in the largest sense.

Under his administration and with his sanction, a law had been proposed which, if it had been passed, would have excluded from Parliament and office all who refused to declare on oath that they thought resistance in every case unlawful.