received him with every species of civility and courtesy, shook hands with him, and promised, moreover, to shew every attention to one of the captain’s merchant friends, who, as that impostor intimated, was expected every day from the Continent, and who proved to be no other than Father Campion. When the latter arrived in London, Parson was on the banks of the Thames to receive him, and saluted and cheered him with the air of one meeting a long absent friend, so that no one could have suspected that all was an artifice and a trick.[135] The Jesuits, once in England, lost no time in commencing operations. A meeting of all the missionaries and secular priests was summoned. Parson presided. He was too cunning to declare publicly the end of their mission, as he did not wish to frighten the timid with the announcement of some dangerous enterprise. He disclaimed all political objects, and said that he only aimed at the conversion of England in co-operation with the secular priests; and swore that this was his only intention.[136] But then appealing to a decree of the Council of Trent, he forbade the Catholics to attend divine service in Protestant churches, and recommended strict nonconformity. In the company of the more faithful, he inveighed most bitterly against the queen, and pointed out with what ease she might be dethroned, by the assistance of the King of Spain and the Pope. Such exhortations as this caused a great ferment among the Roman Catholics. “Swarms of Jesuits and Papists (from the seminaries of Rome and Rheims), impelled by religious enthusiasm, sedulously cultivated for that very purpose, and desirous of returning to their own country, were constantly pouring into the kingdom.”[137] Parson, who was the Provincial, guided all their movements, and himself went from place to place to excite the worst passions of man’s nature in the breasts of those who sought him, as their spiritual father, to confer peace and consolation. A great stir soon became visible among the Roman Catholics. People talked of nothing else than conspiracy and revolt. Sinister rumours were afloat, and acquired new strength from day to day, as is always the case in times of excitement, when some strange idea always pervades the minds of the multitude. It was now the general belief throughout England that every Roman Catholic was a traitor, and at the bidding of the priests was ready to become an assassin. A general massacre of the Protestants by the Papists, assisted by the invasion of a foreign power, was talked of as a matter of more than probable occurrence. Above all, Elizabeth—the beloved queen—the idol of the people—was in danger every moment of being murdered. Books were daily printed denouncing more or less particularly their abominable machinations. These gave consistency to the popular belief. This belief extended from the lowest to the highest ranks of society, and put the nation into an indescribable state of excitement.