The declaration of the Houses of Parliament, five days afterwards, that the crown had become vacant by the desertion or abdication of James disclosed fully to Mary the realization of those dreams of greatness, which an aspiring or even busy female would have cherished in her heart, in the absence of those natural feelings with which Mary was but little troubled. But the gentle Queen was here again all duty and obedience; her mind was but a reflection of her husband’s will and pleasure. Instead of hurrying to occupy the throne to which she might with scarcely an effort have been raised, she remained, at the desire of her consort, patiently in Holland, in order to prevent any intrigues which might be formed in favour of her ruling alone,—a proposal[132] which gnawed into the very heart of the proud, reserved William.[133] Upon her being detained still longer in Holland by contrary winds, or perhaps by a secret gale in the form of a conjugal command, the Earl of Danby was despatched for the purpose of detailing to her the debate in Parliament respecting the successor to the vacant throne; and at the same time to intimate that if she desired to reign alone, he doubted not but that he should be able to insure the accomplishment of her wishes. The Princess, with a firmness which had something of magnanimity in it, replied, “that she was the wife of William Prince of Orange, and would never be any other thing than what she could share in conjunction with him;” adding, “that she should take it very ill if, under pretext of a concern for her, any faction should set up a divided interest between her and her husband.” To confirm this answer, and to prevent misunderstanding, she sent the letter brought to her by Lord Danby, and her answer, to the Prince; and thus prevented any jealousy, on the score of her hereditary right from interfering with her domestic comfort and the confidence of her husband.[134] Such was Mary, unlike the rest of her imprudent race;—unlike them, perhaps, from the early tuition[135] of her stern husband, a very Utilitarian of the seventeenth century. That she will be fully proved deficient in tenderness—that her feelings were even too much under control—(for we may control our feelings until they cease to exist—extinguished by the constant pressure of a dense and foggy mental atmosphere)—that the good principle within her displayed itself rather in the absence of wrong than in active zeal—that she was amiable without being beloved, and commendable without attaining popularity, was fully shown during her short possession of regal power.