For Coleman undertook the difficult task of agent between Louis XIV and the mercenary Whigs. More than three thousand pounds can be traced passing through his hands. The leaders of the opposition had their price at some five hundred guineas; but these took their money direct from the ambassador. Coleman dealt with the rank and file, and here the gold, which among the more exalted would have soon been exhausted, probably went far. He kept a sumptuous table for his friends and laid up for himself what he gained by way of commission. Knowledge of foreign languages, a ready pen, and his Jesuit connection marked Coleman as the man for the duke’s service. He had all the talents for the post save one. James’ want of discretion was reflected in his secretary. Twice Coleman was dismissed; the dismissal was apparent only, and he continued work as busily as before. He had occupied himself in writing seditious letters to rouse discontent in the provinces against the government. Complaint was made. Coleman was discharged from his place by the duke. He was immediately taken into the service of the duchess in the same capacity. Some years later his zeal brought him into collision with the Bishop of London. Compton went to the king and obtained an order to the duke to dismiss his wife’s secretary. The French ambassador was much perturbed and pressed James to afford protection, Coleman received his dismissal and took ship to Calais. His Jesuit friends sent the news sadly one to another. His very talents, it was said, had destroyed him. He was too much in the duke’s counsels. His enemies could not countenance the presence of a man of such parts. The duchess chose a new secretary. Within a fortnight Coleman returned, and in secret resumed his office. He was in the duke’s confidence and necessary to him.[48] Altogether Coleman was not quite the innocent lamb that he has often been painted.