Thus far all things had been favorable, and William was fairly established on English ground. Still his affairs were precarious, and James's condition not utterly hopeless or desperate. In spite of the unpopularity of the king, his numerous encroachments, and his disaffected army, the enterprise of William was hazardous. He was an invader, and the slightest repulse would have been dangerous to his interests. James was yet a king, and had the control of the army, the navy, and the treasury. He was a legitimate king, whose claims were undisputed. And he was the father of a son, and that son, notwithstanding the efforts of the Protestants to represent him as a false heir, was indeed the Prince of Wales. William had no claim to the throne so long as that prince was living. Nor had the nobles and gentry flocked to his standard as he had anticipated. It was nearly a week before a single person of rank or consequence joined him. Devonshire was in Derbyshire, and Churchill had still the confidence of his sovereign. The forces of the king were greatly superior to his own. And James had it in his power to make concessions which would have satisfied a great part of the nation. But William had not miscalculated. He had profoundly studied the character of James, and the temper of the English. He knew that a fatal blindness and obstinacy had been sent upon him, and that he never would relinquish his darling scheme of changing the religion of the nation; and he knew that the nation would never acquiesce in that change; that Popery was hateful in their sight. He also trusted to his own good sword, and to fortunate circumstances. [Sidenote: Flight of the King.]