James’ mind was fixed on other points as well. He could not understand that time had any value in the struggle between men or delay any merit. The king’s policy of waiting was wholly unintelligible to him. Ultimate success seemed to him to depend upon immediate triumph, and for immediate triumph he was ready to stake everything. Each concession, each dilatory advance, each deceptive retreat appeared as sure tokens that he and the monarchy were on the verge of ruin, about to be hurled together into the abyss. There was little enough of sympathy between the brothers, who made a public show of friendship and in private kept secrets to themselves. When he afterwards compiled the memoirs of his life, James was able to exhibit some calmness in discussing their relations; for, as he said, the king was sensible that their interest was at bottom the same against common adversaries, since “his chief security lay in having a successor they liked worse than himself.” “He resolved therefore,” continued the writer, “to stick to the main chance, and suffer no diminution in the prerogative during his time; however, he thought it necessary to yield as far as he could to convince the world of his sincerity, and to put his enemies so much in the wrong (without parting with any essential thing) as that, if they forced him to break, he might have friends enough to assist him.”[387] At the time this series of penetrating afterthoughts did not cross the duke’s mind. He had so little conception of Charles’ aim and point of view as to be in constant terror that he would be abandoned to the wrath of the opposing forces. He conceived himself, like his son-in-law the Prince of Orange, to be dealing with a volatile being of pleasure, and crying, as the captain of a ship to his helmsman in a storm: Steady, steady, steady.[388] Only positive commands and elaborate assurances, to which even then he attached little weight,[389] could induce him to leave the court at moments of crisis when his presence was likely to have the worst possible effects. He could never think that his absence would not serve only to embolden his enemies. Present, he was continually interfering and making unwise suggestions. Absent, he did not cease pressing for his recall.[390] Nor did he cease from Belgium and Scotland to press on the king counsels of desperation. Anything tainted with moderation had to his nostrils the odour of surrender. He had not been two months at Brussels before he was urging Charles to steps which he knew must mean civil war. Ireland, Scotland, the fleet, the guards, the garrisons, were still in the king’s hand. The Prince of Orange had given assurance that he would be on the side of royalty. Let Charles cease to countenance Monmouth and the party with him, let him think on the fate of Edward II, Richard II, and the king his father. “Now or never,” wrote the duke, “is the time to save the monarchy.”[391] This was of a piece with all his advice. All