Nothing should have been spared which could quiet the alarms and soothe the wounded pride of neighbouring nations.
The House of Bourbon was so situated that one year of moderation might not improbably be rewarded by thirty years of undisputed ascendency.
Was it possible the politic and experienced Lewis would at such a conjuncture offer a new and most galling provocation, not only to William, whose animosity was already as great as it could be, but to the people whom William had hitherto been vainly endeavouring to inspire with animosity resembling his own?
How often, since the Revolution of 1688, had it seemed that the English were thoroughly weary of the new government.

And how often had the detection of a Jacobite plot, or the approach of a French armament, changed the whole face of things.

All at once the grumbling had ceased, the grumblers had crowded to sign loyal addresses to the usurper, had formed associations in support of his authority, had appeared in arms at the head of the militia, crying God save King William.

So it would be now.

Most of those who had taken a pleasure in crossing him on the question of his Dutch guards, on the question of his Irish grants, would be moved to vehement resentment when they learned that Lewis had, in direct violation of a treaty, determined to force on England a king of his own religion, a king bred in his own dominions, a king who would be at Westminster what Philip was at Madrid, a great feudatory of France.
These arguments were concisely but clearly and strongly urged by Torcy in a paper which is still extant, and which it is difficult to believe that his master can have read without great misgivings.