But, if the Whig doctrine were false, if the oath were still binding, could men of sense really believe that they escaped the guilt of perjury by voting for a Regency?
Could they affirm that they bore true allegiance to James while they were in defiance of his protestations made before all Europe, authorising another person to receive the royal revenues, to summon and prorogue parliaments, to create Dukes and Earls, to name Bishops and judges, to pardon offenders, to command the forces of the state, and to conclude treaties with foreign powers?
Had Pascal been able to find, in all the folios of the Jesuitical casuists, a sophism more contemptible than that which now, as it seemed, sufficed to quiet the consciences of the fathers of the Anglican Church?
Nothing could be more evident than that the plan of Regency could be defended only on Whig principles.

Between the rational supporters of that plan and the majority of the House of Commons there could be no dispute as to the question of right.

All that remained was a question of expediency.

And would any statesman seriously contend that it was expedient to constitute a government with two heads, and to give to one of those heads regal power without regal dignity, and to the other regal dignity without regal power?
It was notorious that such an arrangement, even when made necessary by the infancy or insanity of a prince, had serious disadvantages.

That times of Regency were times of weakness, of trouble and of disaster, was a truth proved by the whole history of England, of France, and of Scotland, and had almost become a proverb.
Yet, in a case of infancy or of insanity, the King was at least passive.
He could not actively counterwork the Regent.