Perhaps, in the history of the civilized world, there never occurred a period when the passions of men were more deeply moved, than in the autumn of the year 1678, when England was startled from side to side by the following extraordinary story. The Jesuits had formed a project for the conversion of Great Britain to the Roman Catholic faith; and £10,000 had been procured to assist in carrying out their plans. With this project was blended a conspiracy to assassinate the King, who was to be poisoned by the Queen’s physician; failing which, he was to be shot with bullets; and, if that did not succeed, he was to be stabbed with a large knife. With a feeble attempt at wit it was said, if he would not become R.C., a Roman Catholic, he should be no longer C.R., Charles Rex. Twenty thousand Catholics in London were to rise within twenty-four hours, and cut the throats of the Protestant inhabitants; eight thousand were to take up arms in Scotland; and, of course, in Ireland the professors of the ancient religion, possessed of enormous influence, meant to have it all their own way. The Crown was to be offered to the Duke of York, upon certain conditions; and if James refused, then, it was elegantly said, “to pot he must go also.” Amongst other means certain Jesuits were instructed to “carry themselves like Nonconformist ministers, and to preach to the disaffected Scots, the necessity of taking up the sword for the defence of liberty of conscience.” Seditious preachers and catechists were to be sent out, and directed when and what to preach in private and public conventicles, and field meetings. The Society in London intended to knock on the head Dr. Stillingfleet and Matthew Pool, for writing against them; and Croft, Bishop of Hereford, was doomed to death as an apostate. A second conflagration in the City of London formed an element in this scheme of wholesale destruction; and, in anticipation of the success of the design, the Pope had prepared a list of the priests to succeed the Bishops and other dignitaries, who were to be so speedily swept away. The author of this intelligence was the notorious Titus Oates, who professed to have picked it up at St. Omer’s, at Valladolid, at Burgos, and at a tavern in the Strand, where, owing to his pretended conversion and zeal in the Catholic service, the Jesuits had entrusted him with their deepest secrets.