Into the midst of so fierce a storm Charles II and his government were thus suddenly thrown. It had broken over their heads almost without warning. September had passed with a clear sky; October was not out before the elements had massed their forces against the king’s devoted servants and were threatening to overwhelm the land with a gigantic catastrophe. In August Charles had at his control a formidable army and in his pocket the sum of £800,000, with the added satisfaction of seeing removed by the general peace a fruitful opportunity for his political opponents: before December the throne on which he sat seemed tottering to its fall. The servants of the crown faced the situation with admirable fortitude. English statecraft of the Restoration period was a haphazard school. Since the fall of Clarendon integrity of dealing had ceased to be an ideal for English politicians. Common honesty, the saving grace of party principle, fled from a scene where could be witnessed the sight of offices bought and sold with cheerful frankness and votes bidden for as at an auction without shame. The king’s chief minister lent himself to a policy of which he heartily disapproved. The king’s mistresses were notable pieces in the game played at court. A quarrel between them might be expected to influence the fate of incalculable futures. General want of method reduced the public services to chaos. The salaries of ambassadors fell into long arrear; clerks in the offices of the secretaries of state petitioned vehemently for their wages; the very gentlemen waiters were forced to urge that either their diet or money in its stead should not be denied them.[316] Nevertheless the nation throve on a habit of inspired disorder. Lord Treasurer Danby increased the royal revenue wonderfully. The Stop of the Exchequer, a breach of faith which convulsed the city, scarcely sufficed to shock the national credit. The growth of trade and commerce was completely changing the aspect of England, and wealth increased rapidly. Able and painstaking men such as Sir Joseph Williamson, Sir William Temple, Henry Coventry, Sir Leoline Jenkins, and in a lesser degree Samuel Pepys and the Earl of Conway, conducted the changeful administration of affairs with industry and circumspection. Want of order did not disturb them, for they were used to none; and secretaries of state were accustomed to pursue their royal master with business in bed, at his after-dinner dose, and even to still more remote places of retreat.[317] A continual shifting of the horizon prepared them for unexpected events. Without brilliant parts they learned to confront steadily situations of difficulty and danger. That which now met them was not without precedent. It had become almost a tradition of Charles’ government to expect the worst without ceasing to hope for the best. From the Restoration onwards alarms had been frequent and a spirit of revolt, even of revolution, in the air.