But he might perhaps be excused if he asked, What was the constitution to him?
The Act of Uniformity had ejected him, in spite of royal promises, from a benefice which was his freehold, and had reduced him to beggary and dependence.
The Five Mile Act had banished him from his dwelling, from his relations, from his friends, from almost all places of public resort.
Under the Conventicle Act his goods had been distrained; and he had been flung into one noisome gaol after another among highwaymen and housebreakers.

Out of prison he had constantly had the officers of justice on his track; he had been forced to pay hushmoney to informers; he had stolen, in ignominious disguises, through windows and trapdoors, to meet his flock, and had, while pouring the baptismal water, or distributing the eucharistic bread, been anxiously listening for the signal that the tipstaves were approaching.

Was it not mockery to call on a man thus plundered and oppressed to suffer martyrdom for the property and liberty of his plunderers and oppressors?
The Declaration, despotic as it might seem to his prosperous neighbours, brought deliverance to him.

He was called upon to make his choice, not between freedom and slavery, but between two yokes; and he might not unnaturally think the yoke of the King lighter than that of the Church.
While thoughts like these were working in the minds of many Dissenters, the Anglican party was in amazement and terror.

This new turn in affairs was indeed alarming.