The committee of danger, in April, 1648, voted to raise the army to

forty thousand men.[*] The same year, the pay of the army was estimated

at eighty thousand pounds a month.[**] The establishment of the army, in

1652, was, in Scotland, fifteen thousand foot, two thousand five hundred

and eighty horse, five hundred and sixty dragoons; in England, four

thousand seven hundred foot, two thousand five hundred and twenty horse,

garrisons six thousand one hundred and fifty-four. In all, thirty one

thousand five hundred and fourteen, besides officers.[***] The army in

Scotland was afterwards considerably reduced. The army in Ireland was

not much short of twenty thousand men; so that, upon the whole, the

commonwealth maintained, in 1652, a standing army of more than

fifty thousand men. Its pay amounted to a yearly sum of one million

forty-seven thousand seven hundred and fifteen pounds.[****] Afterwards

the protector reduced the establishment to thirty thousand men; as

appears by the "instrument of government and humble petition and

advice." His frequent enterprises obliged him from time to time to

augment them. Richard had on foot in England an army of thirteen

thousand two hundred and fifty-eight men, in Scotland nine thousand five

hundred and six, in Ireland about ten thousand men.[v] The foot soldiers

had commonly a shilling a day.[v*] The horse had two shillings and

sixpence; so that many gentlemen and younger brothers of good family

enlisted in the protector's cavalry.[v**] No wonder that such men were

averse from the reëstablishment of civil government, by which, they well

knew, they must be deprived of so gainful a profession.

At the time of the battle of Worcester the parliament had on foot about

eighty thousand men, partly militia, partly regular forces. The vigor

of the commonwealth, and the great capacity of those members who had

assumed the government, never at any time appeared so conspicuous.[v***]

* Whitlocke, p. 298.

** Whitlocke, p. 378.

*** Journal, 2d December, 1652.

**** Journal, 2d December, 1652.

v Journal, 6th of April, 1659.

v* Thurloe, vol. i. p. 395; vol. ii. p. 414.

v** Gumble's Life of Monk.

v*** Whitlocke, p. 477.

The whole revenue of the public during the protectorship of Richard was

estimated at one million eight hundred and sixty-eight thousand seven

hundred and seventeen pounds; his annual expenses at two millions two

hundred and one thousand five hundred and forty pounds. An additional

revenue was demanded from parliament.[*]

The commerce and industry of England increased extremely during the

peaceable period of Charles's reign: the trade to the East Indies and to

Guinea became considerable. The English possessed almost the sole trade

with Spain. Twenty thousand cloths were annually sent to Turkey.[**]

Commerce met with interruption, no doubt, from the civil wars and

convulsions which afterwards prevailed; though it soon recovered after

the establishment of the commonwealth. The war with the Dutch, by

distressing the commerce of so formidable a rival, served to encourage

trade in England; the Spanish war was to an equal degree pernicious.

All the effects of the English merchants, to an immense value, were

confiscated in Spain. The prevalence of democratical principles engaged

the country gentlemen to bind their sons apprentices to merchants;[***]

and commerce has ever since been more honorable in England than in any

other European kingdom. The exclusive companies, which formerly confined

trade, were never expressly abolished by any ordinance of parliament

during the commonwealth; but as men paid no regard to the prerogative

whence the charters of these companies were derived, the monopoly was

gradually invaded, and commerce increased by the increase of liberty.

Interest in 1650 was reduced to six per cent.

The customs in England, before the civil wars, are said to have amounted

to five hundred thousand pounds a year;[****] a sum ten times greater

than during the best period in Queen Elizabeth's reign: but there is

probably some exaggeration in this matter.

The post-house, in 1653, was farmed at ten thousand pounds a year, which

was deemed a considerable sum for the three kingdoms. Letters paid only

about half the present postage.

From 1619 to 1638, there had been coined six millions nine hundred

thousand and forty-two pounds. From 1638 to 1657, the coinage amounted

to seven millions seven hundred and thirty-three thousand five hundred

and twenty-one pounds.[v]

* Journal, 7th April, 1659.

** Strafford's Letters, vol. i. p. 421, 423, 430, 467.

*** Clarendon.

**** Lewis Roberts's Treasure of Traffick.

v Happy Future State of England

Dr. Davenant has told us, from the registers of the mint, that, between

1558 and 1659, there had been coined nineteen millions eight hundred

and thirty-two thousand four hundred and seventy-six pounds in gold and

silver.

The first mention of tea, coffee, and chocolate, is about 1660.[*]

Asparagus, artichokes, cauliflower, and a variety of salads, were about

the same time introduced into England.[**]

The colony of New England increased by means of the Puritans, who fled

thither in order to free themselves from the constraint which Laud and

the church party had imposed upon them; and, before the commencement of

the civil wars, it is supposed to have contained twenty-five thousand

souls.[***] For a like reason, the Catholics, afterwards, who found

themselves exposed to many hardships, and dreaded still worse treatment

went over to America in great numbers, and settled the colony of

Maryland.

Before the civil wars, learning and the fine arts were favored at

court, and a good taste began to prevail in the nation. The king loved

pictures, sometimes handled the pencil himself, and was a good judge of

the art. The pieces of foreign masters were bought up at a vast price;

and the value of pictures doubled in Europe by the emulation between

Charles and Philip IV. of Spain, who were touched with the same elegant

passion. Vandyke was caressed and enriched at court. Inigo Jones was

master of the king's buildings; though afterwards persecuted by the

parliament, on account of the part which he had in rebuilding St.

Paul's, and for obeying some orders of council, by which he was directed

to pull down houses, in order to make room for that edifice. Laws, who

had not been surpassed by any musician before him, was much beloved by

the king, who called him the father of music. Charles was a good judge

of writing, and was thought by some more anxious with regard to purity

of style than became a monarch.[****]

* Anderson, vol. ii. p. 111.

** Anderson, vol. ii. p. 111.

*** British Empire in America, vol. i. p. 372.

**** Purnet.

Notwithstanding his narrow revenue, and his freedom from all vanity, he

lived in such magnificence, that he possessed four and twenty palaces,

all of them elegantly and completely furnished; insomuch that, when he

removed from one to another, he was not obliged to transport any thing

along with him.

Cromwell, though himself a barbarian was not insensible to literary

merit. Usher, notwithstanding his being a bishop, received a pension

from him. Marvel and Milton were in his service. Waller, who was his

relation, was caressed by him. That poet always said, that the protector

himself was not so wholly illiterate as was commonly imagined. He gave

a hundred pounds a year to the divinity professor at Oxford; and

an historian mentions this bounty as an instance of his love of

literature.[*] He intended to have erected a college at Durham for the

benefit of the northern counties.

Civil wars, especially when founded on principles of liberty are not

commonly unfavorable to the arts of elocution and composition; or

rather, by presenting nobler and more interesting objects, they amply

compensate that tranquillity of which they bereave the muses. The

speeches of the parliamentary orators, during this period, are of a

strain much superior to what any former age had produced in England;

and the force and compass of our tongue were then first put to trial. It

must, however, be confessed, that the wretched fanaticism, which so much

infected the parliamentary party, was no less destructive of taste and

science, than of all law and order. Gayety and wit were proscribed;

human learning despised; freedom of inquiry detested; cant and hypocrisy

alone encouraged. It was an article positively insisted on in the

preliminaries to the treaty of Uxbridge, that all play-houses should

forever be abolished. Sir John Davenant, says Whitlocke,[**] speaking

of the year 1658, published an opera, notwithstanding the nicety of the

times. All the king's furniture was put to sale: his pictures, disposed

of at very low prices, enriched all the collections in Europe: the

cartoons, when complete, were only appraised at three hundred pounds,

though the whole collection of the king's curiosities was sold at above

fifty thousand,[***]

* Neale's History of the Puritans, vol. iv. p. 123.

** Page 639.

*** Parl. Hist. vol. xix. p. 83.

Even the royal palaces were pulled in pieces, and the materials of them

sold. The very library and medals at St. James's were intended by the

generals to be brought to auction, in order to pay the arrears of some

regiments of cavalry quartered near London; but, Seiden, apprehensive

of the loss, engaged his friend Whitlocke, then lord-keeper for the

commonwealth, to apply for the office of librarian. This expedient saved

that valuable collection.

It is, however, remarkable, that the greatest genius by far that

shone out in England during this period, was deeply engaged with these

fanatics, and even prostituted his pen in theological controversy, in

factious disputes, and in justifying the most violent measures of the

party. This was John Milton, whose poems are admirable, though liable to

some objections; his prose writings disagreeable, though not altogether

defective in genius. Nor are all his poems equal: his Paradise Lost,

his Comus, and a few others, shine out amidst some flat and insipid

compositions. Even in the Paradise Lost, his capital performance, there

are very long passages, amounting to near a third of the work,

almost wholly destitute of harmony and elegance, nay, of all vigor

of imagination. This natural inequality in Milton's genius was much

increased by the inequalities in his subject; of which some parts are of

themselves the most lofty that can enter into human conception; others

would have required the most labored elegance of composition to support

them. It is certain that this author, when in a happy mood, and employed

on a noble subject, is the most wonderfully sublime of any poet in any

language, Homer, and Lucretius, and Tasso not excepted. More concise

than Homer, more simple than Tasso, more nervous than Lucretius, had he

lived in a later age, and learned to polish some rudeness in his verses;

had he enjoyed better fortune, and possessed leisure to watch

the returns of genius in himself; he had attained the pinnacle of

perfection, and borne away the palm of epic poetry.

It is well known, that Milton never enjoyed in his lifetime the

reputation which he deserved. His Paradise Lost was long neglected:

prejudices against an apologist for the regicides, and against a work

not wholly purged from the cant of former times, kept the ignorant world

from perceiving the prodigious merit of that performance. Lord Somers,

by encouraging a good edition of it, about twenty years after the

author's death, first brought it into request; and Tonson, in his

dedication of a smaller edition, speaks of it as a work just beginning

to be known. Even during the prevalence of Milton's party, he seems

never to have been much regarded, and Whitlocke talks of one Milton, as

he calls him, a blind man, who was employed in translating a treaty with

Sweden into Latin. These forms of expression are amusing to posterity,

who consider how obscure Whitlocke himself though lord-keeper and

ambassador, and indeed a man of great abilities and merit, has become in

comparison of Milton.

It is not strange that Milton received no encouragement after the

restoration: it is more to be admired that he escaped with his life.

Many of the cavaliers blamed extremely that lenity towards him, which

was so honorable in the king, and so advantageous to posterity. It is

said, that he had saved Davenant's life during the protectorship; and

Davenant in return afforded him like protection after the restoration;

being sensible that men of letters ought always to regard their sympathy

of taste as a more powerful band of union, than any difference of party

or opinion as a source of animosity. It was during a state of poverty,

blindness, disgrace, danger, and old age, that Milton composed his

wonderful poem, which not only surpassed all the performances of his

contemporaries, but all the compositions which had flowed from his

pen during the vigor of his age and the height of his prosperity. This

circumstance is not the least remarkable of all those which attend that

great genius. He died in 1674, aged sixty-six.

Waller was the first refiner of English poetry, at least of English

rhyme; but his performances still abound with many faults, and, what is

more material, they contain but feeble and superficial beauties. Gayety,

wit, and ingenuity are their ruling character: they aspire not to the

sublime; still less to the pathetic. They treat of love, without making

us feel any tenderness; and abound in panegyric, without exciting

admiration. The panegyric, however, on Cromwell, contains more force

than we should expect, from the other compositions of this poet.

Waller was born to an ample fortune, was early introduced to the court,

and lived in the best company. He possessed talents for eloquence as

well as poetry; and till his death, which happened in a good old age,

he was the delight of the house of commons. The errors of his life

proceeded more from want of courage, than of honor or integrity. He died

in 1687, aged eighty-two.

Cowley is an author extremely corrupted by the bad taste of his age; but

had he lived even in the purest times of Greece nor Rome, he must always

have been a very indifferent poet. He had no ear for harmony; and his

verses are only known to be such by the rhyme which terminates them. In

his rugged untenable numbers are conveyed sentiments the most strained

and distorted; long-spun allegories, distant allusions, and forced

conceits. Great ingenuity, however, and vigor of thought, sometimes

break out amidst those unnatural conceptions: a few anacreontics

surprise us by their ease and gayety: his prose writings please by the

honesty and goodness which they express, and even by their spleen and

melancholy. This author was much more praised and admired during his

lifetime, and celebrated after his death, than the great Milton. He died

in 1667, aged forty-nine.

Sir John Denham, in his Cooper's Hill, (for none of his other poems

merit attention,) has a loftiness and vigor which had not before him

been attained by any English poet who wrote in rhyme. The mechanical

difficulties of that measure retarded its improvement. Shakspeare, whose

tragic scenes are sometimes so wonderfully forcible and expressive, is a

very indifferent poet when he attempts to rhyme. Precision and neatness

are chiefly wanting in Denham. He died in 1688, aged seventy-three.

No English author in that age was more celebrated, both abroad and at

home, than Hobbes: in our time, he is much neglected; a lively instance

how precarious all reputations founded on reasoning and philosophy.

A pleasant comedy, which paints the manners of the age, and exposes a

faithful picture of nature, is a durable work, and is transmitted to

the latest posterity. But a system, whether physical or metaphysical,

commonly owes its success to its novelty; and is no sooner canvassed

with impartiality than its weakness is discovered. Hobbes's politics

are fitted only to promote tyranny, and his ethics to encourage

licentiousness. Though an enemy to religion, he partakes nothing of

the spirit of scepticism; but is as positive and dogmatical as if human

reason, and his reason in particular, could attain a thorough conviction

in these subjects. Clearness and propriety of style are the chief

excellencies of Hobbes's writings. In his own person, he is represented

to have been a man of virtue; a character nowise surprising,

notwithstanding his libertine system of ethics. Timidity is the

principal fault with which he is reproached; he lived to an extreme old

age, yet could never reconcile himself to the thoughts of death. The

boldness of his opinions and sentiments form a remarkable contrast to

this part of his character. He died in 1679, aged ninety-one.

Harrington's Oceana was well adapted to that age, when the plans of

imaginary republics were the daily subjects of debate and conversation;

and even in our time, it is justly admired as a work of genius and

invention. The idea however, of a perfect and immortal commonwealth,

will always be found as chimerical as that of a perfect and immortal

man. The style of this author wants ease and fluency; but the good

matter which his work contains, makes compensation. He died in 1677,

aged sixty-six.

Harvey is entitled to the glory of having made, by reasoning alone,

without any mixture of accident, a capital discovery in one of the most

important branches of science. He had also the happiness of establishing

at once his theory on the most solid and convincing proofs; and

posterity has added little to the arguments suggested by his industry

and ingenuity. His treatise of the circulation of the blood is further

embellished by that warmth and spirit which so naturally accompany the

genius of invention. This great man was much favored by Charles I.,

who gave him the liberty of using all the deer in the royal forests

for perfecting his discoveries on the generation of animals. It was

remarked, that no physician in Europe, who had reached forty years of

age, ever, to the end of his life, adopted Harvey's doctrine of the

circulation of the blood; and that his practice in London diminished

extremely, from the reproach drawn upon him by that great and signal

discovery. So slow is the progress of truth in every science, even when

not opposed by factious or superstitious prejudices. He died in 1657,

aged seventy-nine.

This age affords great materials for history; but did not produce any

accomplished historian. Clarendon, however, will always be esteemed an

entertaining writer, even independent of our curiosity to know the facts

which he relates. His style is prolix and redundant, and suffocates

us by the length of its periods: but it discovers imagination and

sentiment, and pleases us at the same time that we disapprove of it. He

is more partial in appearance than in reality for he seems perpetually

anxious to apologize for the king; but his apologies are often well

grounded. He is less partial in his relation of facts, than in his

account of characters: he was too honest a man to falsify the former;

his affections were easily capable, unknown to himself, of disguising

the latter. An air of probity and goodness runs through the whole

work; as these qualities did in reality embellish the whole life of the

author. He died in 1674, aged sixty-six.

These are the chief performances which engage the attention of

posterity. Those numberless productions with which the press then

abounded; the cant of the pulpit, the declamations of party, the

subtilties of theology, all these have long ago sunk in silence and

oblivion. Even a writer such as Selden, whose learning was his chief

excellency, or Chillingworth, an acute disputant against the Papists,

will scarcely be ranked among the classics of our language or country.

NOTES

[Footnote 1: NOTE A, p. 15. By a speech of Sir Simon D'Ewes, in the

first year of the long parliament, it clearly appears, that the nation

never had, even to that time, been rightly informed concerning the

transactions of the Spanish negotiation, and still believed the court

of Madrid to have been altogether insincere in their professions. What

reason, upon that supposition, had they to blame either the prince or

Buckingham for their conduct, or for the narrative delivered to the

parliament? This is a capital fact, and ought to be well attended to.

D'Ewes's speech is in Nalson, vol. ii. p. 368. No author or historian of

that age mentions the discovery of Buckingham's impostures as a cause of

disgust in the parliament. Whitlocke (p. 1) only says, that the commons

began to suspect, that it had been spleen in Buckingham, not zeal for

public good, which had induced him to break the Spanish match; a clear

proof that his falsehood was not suspected. Wilson (p. 780) says, that

Buckingham lost his popularity after Bristol arrived, not because that

nobleman discovered to the world the falsehood of his narrative, but

because he proved that Buckingham, while in Spain, had professed himself

a Papist; which is false, and which was never said by Bristol. In all

the debates which remain, not the least hint is ever given that any

falsehood was suspected in the narrative. I shall further add, that even

if the parliament had discovered the deceit in Buckingham's narrative,

this ought not to have altered their political measures, or made them

refuse supply to the king. They had supposed it practicable to wrest the

Palatinate by arms from the house of Austria; they had represented it

as prudent to expend the blood and treasure of the nation in such an

enterprise; they had believed that the king of Spain never had any

sincere intention of restoring that principality. It is certain that he

had not now any such intention; and though there was reason to suspect,

that this alteration in his views had proceeded from the ill conduct of

Buckingham, yet past errors could not be retrieved; and the nation

was undoubtedly in the same situation which the parliament had ever

supposed, when they so much harassed their sovereign by their impatient,

importunate, and even undutiful solicitations. To which we may add,

that Charles himself was certainly deceived by Buckingham when he

corroborated his favorite's narrative by his testimony. Party

historians are somewhat inconsistent in their representations of these

transactions. They represent the Spaniards as totally insincere, that

they may reproach James with credulity in being so long deceived by

them. They represent them as sincere, that they may reproach the king,

the prince, and the duke with falsehood in their narrative to the

parliament. The truth is, they were insincere at first; but the reasons,

proceeding from bigotry, were not suspected by James, and were at last

overcome, They became sincere; but the prince, deceived by the many

unavoidable causes of delay, believed that they were still deceiving

him.]

[Footnote 2: NOTE B, p. 42. This petition is of so great importance,

that we shall here give it at length: Humbly show unto our sovereign

lord the king, the lords spiritual and temporal, and commons in

parliament assembled, That, whereas it is declared and enacted, by a

statute made in the time of the reign of King Edward I., commonly called

Statutum de Tallagio non concedendo, That no tallage or aid shall be

levied by the king or his heirs in this realm, without the good will and

assent of the archbishops, bishops, earls, barons, knights, burgesses,

and other the freemen of the commonalty of this realm; and, by authority

of parliament holden in the five and twentieth year of the reign of King

Edward III., it is declared and enacted, That, from thenceforth, no

person shall be compelled to make any loans to the king against his

will, because such loans were against reason, and the franchise of the

land; and, by other laws of this realm, it is provided, That none should

be charged by any charge or imposition called a benevolence, or by such

like charge; by which the statutes before mentioned, and other the good

laws and statutes of this realm, your subjects have inherited this

freedom, that they should not be compelled to contribute to any tax,

tallage, aid, or other like charge, not set by common consent in

parliament.

II. Yet, nevertheless, of late divers commissions, directed to sundry

commissioners in several counties, with instructions, have issued; by

means whereof your people have been in divers places assembled, and

required to lend certain sums of money unto your majesty; and many of

them, upon their refusal to do so, have had an oath administered unto

them not warrantable by the laws or statutes of this realm, and have

been constrained to become bound to make appearance and give attendance

before your privy council, and in other places; and others of them have

been therefore imprisoned, confined, and sundry other ways molested and

disquieted; and divers other charges have been laid and levied upon your

people, in several counties, by lord lieutenants, deputy lieutenants,

commissioners for musters, justices of peace, and others, by command or

direction from your majesty, or your privy council, against the laws and

free customs of this realm.

III. And whereas also, by the statute called the Great Charter of the

liberties of England, it is declared and enacted, That no freeman may

be taken or imprisoned, or be disseized of his freehold or liberties, or

his free customs, or be outlawed or exiled, or in any manner destroyed,

but by the lawful judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land.

IV. And, in the eight and twentieth year of the reign of King Edward

III., it was declared and enacted, by authority of parliament, That no

man, of what estate or condition that he be, should be put out of his

land or tenements, nor taken, nor imprisoned, nor dispirited, nor

put to death, without being brought to answer by due process of law.

V. Nevertheless, against the tenor of the said statutes, and other the

good laws and statutes of your realm to that end provided, divers of

your subjects have of late been imprisoned without any cause showed; and

when, for their deliverance, they were brought before justice, by your

majesty's writs of habeas corpus there to undergo and receive as the

court should order, and their keepers commanded to certify the causes of

their detainer, no cause was certified, but that they were detained by

your majesty's special command, signified by the lords of your privy

council, and yet were returned back to several prisons, without being

charged with any thing to which they might make answer according to the

law.

VI. And whereas of late great companies of soldiers and mariners have

been dispersed into divers counties of the realm, and the inhabitants,

against their wills, have been compelled to receive them into their

houses, and there to suffer them to sojourn, against the laws and

customs of this realm, and to the great grievance and vexation of the

people.

VII. And whereas also, by authority of parliament, in the five and

twentieth year of the reign of King Edward III., it is declared and

enacted, That no man should be forejudged of life or limb, against the

form of the Great Charter and law of the land; and, by the said Great

Charter, and other the laws and statutes of this your realm, no man

ought to be judged to death but by the laws established in this

your realm, either by the customs of the same realm, or by acts of

parliament; and whereas no offender, of what kind soever, is exempted

from the proceedings to be used, and punishments to be inflicted by

the laws and statutes of this your realm; nevertheless, of late divers

commissions, under your majesty's great seal, have issued forth, by

which certain persons have been assigned and appointed commissioners,

with power and authority to proceed within the land, according to the

justice of martial law, against such soldiers and mariners, or other

dissolute persons joining with them, as should commit any murther,

robbery, felony, mutiny, or other outrage or misdemeanor whatsoever, and

by such summary course and order as is agreeable to martial law, and

as is used in armies in time of war, to proceed to the trial and

condemnation of such offenders, and them to cause to be executed and put

to death according to the law martial.

VIII. By pretext whereof, some of your majesty's subjects have been by

some of the said commissioners put to death, when and where, if by the

laws and statutes of the land they had deserved death, by the same laws

and statutes also they might, and by no other ought, to have been judged

and executed.

IX. And also sundry grievous offenders, by color thereof claiming an

exemption, have escaped the punishments due to them by the laws and

statutes of this your realm, by reason that divers of your officers

and ministers of justice have unjustly refused or forborne to proceed

against such offenders, according to the same laws and statutes, upon

pretence that the said offenders were punishable only by martial law,

and by authority of such commissions as aforesaid; which commissions,

and all other of like nature, are wholly and directly contrary to the

said laws and statutes of this your realm.

X. They do therefore humbly pray your most excellent majesty That no

man hereafter be compelled to make or yield any gift, loan, benevolence,

tax, or such like charge, without common consent, by act of parliament;

and that none be called to make answer, or take such oath, or to

give attendance, or be confined, or otherways molested or disquieted

concerning the same, or for refusal thereof; and that no freeman, in any

such manner as is before mentioned, be imprisoned or detained; and that

your majesty would be pleased to remove the said soldiers and mariners,

and that people may not be so burdened in time to come; and that the

aforesaid commissions, for proceeding by martial law, may be revoked

and annulled; and that hereafter no commissions of like nature may issue

forth, to any person or persons whatsoever, to be executed as aforesaid,

lest, by color of them, any of your majesty's subjects be destroyed, or

put to death, contrary to the laws and franchise of the land.

XL All which they most humbly pray of your most excellent majesty, as

their rights and liberties, according to the laws and statutes of this

realm; and that your majesty would also vouchsafe to declare, That the

awards, doings, and proceedings to the prejudice of your people, in

any of the premises, shall not be drawn hereafter into consequence or

example; and that your majesty would be also graciously pleased, for the

further comfort and safety of your people, to declare your royal will

and pleasure, that in the things aforesaid, all your officers and

ministers shall serve you according to the laws and statutes of this

realm, as they tender the honor of your majesty, and the prosperity of

this kingdom. Stat. 17 Car. cap. 14.]

[Footnote 3: NOTE C, p. 52. The reason assigned by Sir Philip Warwick

(p. 2) for this unusual measure of the commons, is, that they intended

to deprive the crown of the prerogative which it had assumed, of varying

the rates of the impositions, and at the same time were resolved to cut

off the new rates fixed by James. These were considerable diminutions

both of revenue and prerogative; and whether they would have there

stopped, considering their present disposition, may be much doubted. The

king, it seems, and the lords were resolved not to trust them; nor

to render a revenue once precarious, which perhaps they might never

afterwards be able to get reestablished on the old footing.]

[Footnote 4: NOTE D, p. 80. Here is a passage of Sir John Davis's

Question concerning Impositions, (p. 131.) "This power of laying on

arbitrarily new impositions being a prerogative in point of government,

as well as in point of profit, it cannot be restrained or bound by act

of parliament; it can not be limited by any certain or fixt rule of law,

no more than the course of a pilot upon the sea, who must turn the helm

or bear higher or lower sail, according to the wind or weather; and

therefore it may be properly said, that the king's prerogative, in this

point, is as strong as Samson; it cannot be bound; for though an act of

parliament be made to restrain it, and the king doth give his

consent unto it, as Samson was bound with his own consent; yet if the

Philistines come, that is, if any just or important occasion do arise,

it cannot hold or restrain the prerogative; it will be as thread, and

broken as easy as the bonds of Samson. The king's prerogatives are the

sunbeams of the crown, and as inseparable from it as the sunbeams from

the sun. The king's crown must be taken from him; Samson's hair must

be cut off, before his courage can be any jot abated. Hence it is that

neither the king's act, nor any act of parliament, can give away his

prerogative."]

[Footnote 5: NOTE E, p. 121. We shall here make use of the liberty

allowed in a note to expatiate a little on the present subject. It

must be confessed, that the king in this declaration touched upon that

circumstance in the English constitution which it is most difficult,

or rather altogether impossible, to regulate by laws, and which must be

governed by certain delicate ideas of propriety and decency, rather than

by any exact rule or prescription. To deny the parliament all right of

remonstrating against what they esteem grievances, were to reduce that

assembly to a total insignificancy, and to deprive the people of every

advantage which they could reap from popular councils. To complain

of the parliament's employing the power of taxation as the means of

extorting concessions from their sovereign, were to expect that they

would entirely disarm themselves, and renounce the sole expedient

provided by the constitution for insuring to the kingdom a just and

legal administration. In different periods of English story, there

occur instances of their remonstrating with their princes in the freest

manner, and sometimes of their refusing supply when disgusted with

any circumstance of public conduct. It is, however, certain, that this

power, though essential to parliaments, may easily be abused, as well

by the frequency and minuteness of their remonstrances, as by their

intrusion into every part of the king's counsels and determinations.

Under color of advice, they may give disguised orders; and in

complaining of grievances, they may draw to themselves every power of

government. Whatever measure is embraced without consulting them, may

be pronounced an oppression of the people; and, till corrected, they may

refuse the most necessary supplies to their indigent sovereign. From the

very nature of this parliamentary liberty, it is evident that it must

be left unbounded by law; for who can foretell how frequently grievances

may occur, or what part of administration may be affected by them?

From the nature, too, of the human frame, it may be expected, that this

liberty would be exerted in its full extent, and no branch of authority

be allowed to remain unmolested in the hands of the prince; for will the

weak limitations of respect and decorum be sufficient to restrain human

ambition, which so frequently breaks through all the prescriptions of

law and justice?

But here it is observable, that the wisdom of the English constitution,

or rather the concurrence of accidents, has provided, in different

periods, certain irregular checks to this privilege of parliament and

thereby maintained, in some tolerable measure, the dignity and authority

of the crown.

In the ancient constitution, before the beginning of the seventeenth

century, the meetings of parliament were precarious, and were not

frequent. The sessions were short, and the members had no leisure

either to get acquainted with each other, or with public business. The

ignorance of the age made men more submissive to that authority which

governed them. And above all, the large demesnes of the crown, with

the small expense of government during that period, rendered the

prince almost independent, and taught the parliament to preserve great

submission and duty towards him.

In our present constitution, many accidents which have rendered

governments every where, as well as in Great Britain, much more

burdensome than formerly, have thrown into the hands of the crown the

disposal of a large revenue, and have enabled the king, by the private

interest and ambition of the members, to restrain the public interest

and ambition of the body. While the opposition (for we must still have

an opposition, open or disguised,) endeavors to draw every branch of

administration under the cognizance of parliament, the courtiers reserve

a part to the disposal of the crown; and the royal prerogative, though

deprived of its ancient powers, still maintains a due weight in the

balance of the constitution.

It was the fate of the house of Stuart to govern England at a period

when the former source of authority was already much diminished, and

before the latter began to flow in any tolerable abundance. Without a

regular and fixed foundation, the throne perpetually tottered; and the

prince sat upon it anxiously and precariously. Every expedient used

by James and Charles in order to support their dignity, we have seen

attended with sensible inconveniencies. The majesty of the crown,

derived from ancient powers and prerogatives, procured respect, and

checked the approaches of insolent intruders. But it begat in the king

so high an idea of his own rank and station, as made him incapable

of stooping to popular courses, or submitting, in any degree, to the

control of parliament. The alliance with the hierarchy strengthened law

by the sanction of religion; but it enraged the Puritanical party, and

exposed the prince to the attacks of enemies, numerous, violent, and

implacable. The memory, too, of these two kings, from like causes, has

been attended, in some degree, with the same infelicity which pursued

them during the whole course of their lives. Though it must be

confessed, that their skill in government was not proportioned to the

extreme delicacy of their situation, a sufficient indulgence has not

been given them, and all the blame, by several historians, has been

unjustly thrown on their side. Their violations of law, particularly

those of Charles, are, in some few instances, transgressions of a plain

limit which was marked out to loyal authority. But the encroachments of

the commons, though in the beginning less positive and determinate,

are no less discernible by good judges, and were equally capable of

destroying the just balance of the constitution. While they exercised

the powers transmitted to them in a manner more independent, and less

compliant, than had ever before been practised, the kings were, perhaps

imprudently, but as they imagined, from necessity, tempted to assume

powers which had scarcely ever been exercised, or had been exercised in

a different manner by the crown. And from the shock of these opposite

pretensions, together with religious controversy, arose all the

factions, convulsions, and disorders which attended that period.

"This footnote was in the first editions a part of the text.]

[Footnote 6: NOTE F, p. 166. Mr. Carte, in his Life of the duke of

Ormond, has given us some evidence to prove that this letter was

entirely a forgery of the popular leaders, in order to induce the king

to sacrifice Strafford. He tells us, that Strafford said so to his son

the night before his execution, But there are some reasons why I adhere

to the common way of telling this story. 1. The account of the forgery

comes through several hands, and from men of characters not fully known

to the public; a circumstance which weakens every evidence. It is a

hearsay of a hearsay. 2. It seems impossible but young Lord Strafford

must inform the king, who would not have failed to trace the forgery,

and expose his enemies to their merited infamy. 3. It is not to be

conceived but Clarendon and Whitlocke, not to mention others, must have

heard of the matter. 4. Sir George Ratcliffe, in his Life of Strafford,

tells the story the same way that Clarendon and Whitlocke do. Would

he also, who was Strafford's intimate friend, never have heard of the

forgery? It is remarkable, that this Life is dedicated or addressed to

young Strafford. Would not he have put Sir George right in so material

and interesting a fact?]

[Footnote 7: NOTE G, p. 167. What made this bill appear of less

consequence was, that the parliament voted tonnage and poundage for no

longer a period than two months; and as that branch was more than half

of the revenue, and the government could not possibly subsist without

it, it seemed indirectly in the power of the parliament to continue

themselves as long as they pleased. This indeed was true in the ordinary

administration of government; but on the approaches towards a civil war,

which was not then foreseen, it had been of great consequence to the

king to have reserved the right of dissolution, and to have endured any

extremity rather than allow the continuance of the parliament.]

[Footnote 8: NOTE H, p. 190. It is now so universally allowed,

notwithstanding some muttering to the contrary, that the king had no

hand in the Irish rebellion, that it will be superfluous to insist on a

point which seems so clear. I shall only suggest a very few arguments,

among an infinite number which occur. 1. Ought the affirmation of

perfidious, infamous rebels ever to have passed for any authority? 2.

Nobody can tell us what the words of the pretended commission were. That

commission, which we find in Rush, (vol. v. p. 400,) and in Milton's

Works, (Toland's edition,) is plainly an imposture; because it pretends

to be dated in October, 1641, yet mentions facts which happened not

till some months after. It appears that the Irish rebels, observing

some inconsistence in their first forgery, were obliged to forge this

commission anew, yet could not render it coherent or probable. 3.

Nothing could be more obviously pernicious to the king's cause than the

Irish rebellion: because it increased his necessities, and rendered

him still more dependent on the parliament, who had before sufficiently

shown on what terms they would assist him. 4. The instant the king heard

of the rebellion, which was a very few days after its commencement, he

wrote to the parliament, and gave over to them the management of the

war. Had he built any projects on that rebellion, would he not have

waited some little time, to see how they would succeed? Would he

presently have adopted a measure which was evidently so hurtful to his

authority? 5. What can be imagined to be the king's projects? To raise

the Irish to arms, I suppose, and bring them over to England for his

assistance. But is it not plain, that the king never intended to raise

war in England? Had that been his intention, would he have rendered the

parliament perpetual? Does it not appear, by the whole train of events,

that the parliament forced him into the war? 6. The king conveyed to the

justices intelligence which ought to have prevented the rebellion. 7.

The Irish Catholics, in all their future transactions with the king,

where they endeavor to excuse their insurrection, never had the

assurance to plead his commission. Even amongst themselves they dropped

that pretext. It appears that Sir Phelim O'Neale chiefly, and he only at

first, promoted that imposture. See Carte's Ormond, vol. iii. No. 100,

111, 112, 114, 115, 121, 132, 137. 8. O'Neale himself confessed the

imposture on his trial, and at his execution. See Nalson, vol. ii.

p. 528. Maguire, at his execution, made a like confession. 9. It is

ridiculous to mention the justification which Charles II. gave to the

marquis of Antrim, as if he had acted by his father's commission. Antrim

had no hand in the first rebellion and the massacre. He joined not the

rebels till two years after; it was with the king's consent, and he did

important service in sending over a body of men to Montrose.]

[Footnote 9: NOTE I, p. 220. The great courage and conduct displayed by

many of the popular leaders, have commonly inclined men to do them, in

one respect, more honor than they deserve, and to suppose that, like

able politicians, they employed pretences which they secretly despised,

in order to serve their selfish purposes. It is, however, probable, if

not certain, that they were, generally speaking, the dupes of their own

zeal. Hypocrisy, quite pure and free from fanaticism, is perhaps, except

among men fixed in a determined philosophical scepticism, then unknown,

as rare as fanaticism entirely purged from all mixture of hypocrisy.

So congenial to the human mind are religions sentiments, that it is

impossible to counterfeit long these holy fervors, without feeling some

share of the assumed warmth: and, on the other hand, so precarious and

temporary, from the frailty of human nature, is the operation of these

spiritual views, that the religious ecstasies, if constantly employed,

must often be counterfeit, and must be warped by those more familiar

motives of interest and ambition, which insensibly gain upon the mind.

This indeed teems the key to most of the celebrated characters of that

age. Equally full of fraud and of ardor, these pious patriots talked

perpetually of seeking the Lord, yet still pursued their own purposes;

and have left a memorable lesson to posterity, how delusive, how

destructive that principle is by which they were animated.

With regard to the people, we can entertain no doubt that the

controversy was, on their part, entirely theological. The generality of

the nation could never have flown out into such fury, in order to

obtain new privileges, and acquire greater liberty than they and their

ancestors had ever been acquainted with. Their fathers had been entirely

satisfied with the government of Elizabeth. Why should they have been

thrown into such extreme rage against Charles, who, from the beginning

of his reign, wished only to maintain such a government? And why not at

least compound matters with him, when, by all his laws, it appeared that

he had agreed to depart from it? especially AS he had put it entirely

out of his power to retract that resolution. It is in vain, therefore,

to dignify this civil war, and the parliamentary authors of it, by

supposing it to have any other considerable foundation than theological

zeal, that great source of animosity among men. The royalists also were

very commonly zealots; but as they were at the same time maintaining the

established constitution in state as well as church, they had an object

which was natural, and which might produce the greatest passion, even

without any considerable mixture of theological fervor.

The former part of this footnote was in the first editions a part of the

text]

[Footnote 11: NOTE K, p. 221. In some of these declarations, supposed to

be penned by Lord Falkland, is found the first regular definition of the

constitution, according to our present ideas of it, that occurs in any

English composition; at least any published by authority. The three

species of government, monarchical, aristocratical, and democratical,

are there plainly distinguished, and the English government is expressly

said to be none of them pure, but all of them mixed and tempered

together. This style, though the sense of it was implied in many

institutions, no former king of England would have used, and no subject

would have been permitted to use. Banks and the crown lawyers against

Hambden, in the case of ship money, insist plainly and openly on the

king's absolute and sovereign power; and the opposite lawyers do not

deny it; they only assert, that the subjects have also a fundamental

property in their goods, and that no part of them can be taken but by

their own consent in parliament. But that the parliament was instituted

to check and control the king, and share the supreme power, would in

all former times have been esteemed very blunt and indiscreet, if not

illegal language. We need not be surprised that governments should long

continue, though the boundaries of authority in their several branches

be implicit, confused, and undetermined. This is the case all over the

world. Who can draw an exact line between the spiritual and temporal

powers in Catholic states? What code ascertained the precise authority

of the Roman senate in every occurrence? Perhaps the English is the

first mixed government where the authority of every part has been very

accurately defined; and yet there still remain many very important

questions between the two houses, that, by common consent, are buried in

a discreet silence. The king's power is, indeed, more exactly limited;

but this period of which we now treat is the time a which that accuracy

commenced. And it appears from Warwick and Hobbes, that many royalists

blamed this philosophical precision in the king's penman, and

thought that the veil was very imprudently drawn off the mysteries of

government. It is certain that liberty reaped mighty advantages from

these controversies and inquiries; and the royal authority itself became

more secure within those provinces which were assigned to it.

Since the first publication of this History, the sequel of Lord

Clarendon has been published; where that nobleman asserts, that he

himself was the author of most of these remonstrances and memorials of

the king.]

[Footnote 12: NOTE L, p. 240. Whitlocke, who was one of the

commissioners, says, (p. 65,) "In this treaty the king manifested

his great parts and abilities, strength of reason and quickness of

apprehension, with much patience in hearing what was objected against

him; wherein he allowed all freedom and would himself sum up the

arguments, and give a most clear judgment upon them. His unhappiness

was, that he had a better opinion of others' judgments than of his

own, though they were weaker than his own; and of this the parliament

commissioners had experience to their great trouble. They were often

waiting on the king, and debating some points of the treaty with him

until midnight, before they could come to a conclusion. Upon one of the

most material points, they pressed his majesty with their reasons and

best arguments they could use to grant what they desired. The king said

he was fully satisfied, and promised to give them his answer in writing

according to their desire; but because it was then past midnight, and

too late to put it into writing, he would have it drawn up next morning,

when he commanded them to wait on him again, and then he would give them

his answer in writing as it was now agreed upon. But next morning the

king told them that he had altered his mind; and some of his friends, of

whom the commissioners inquired, told them, that after they were

gone, and even his council retired, some of his bed-chamber never left

pressing and persuading him till they prevailed on him to change his

former resolutions." It is difficult, however, to conceive that any

negotiation could have succeeded between the king and parliament, while

the latter insisted, as they did all along, on a total submission to all

their demands; and challenged the whole power, which they professedly

intended to employ to the punishment of all the king's friends.]

[Footnote 13: NOTE M, p. 247. The author is sensible that some blame

may be thrown upon him, on account of this last clause in Mr. Hambden's

character; as if he were willing to entertain a suspicion of bad

intentions where the actions were praiseworthy. But the author's meaning

is directly contrary. He esteems the last actions of Mr. Hambden's

life to hare been very blamable; though, as they were derived from good

motives, only pushed to an extreme, there is room left to believe that

the intentions of that patriot, as well as of many of his party, were

laudable. Had the preceding administration of the king, which we are

apt to call arbitrary, proceeded from ambition, and an unjust desire

of encroaching on the ancient liberties of the people, there would have

been less reason for giving him any trust, or leaving in his hands a

considerable share of that power which he had so much abused. But if

his conduct was derived in a great measure from necessity, and from a

natural desire of defending that prerogative which was transmitted

to him from his ancestors, and which his parliaments were visibly

encroaching on, there is no reason why he may not be esteemed a very

virtuous prince, and entirely worthy of trust from his people. The

attempt, therefore, of totally annihilating monarchical power, was a

very blamable extreme; especially as it was attended with the danger,

to say the least, of a civil war, which, besides the numberless ills

inseparable from it, exposed liberty to much greater perils than it

could have incurred under the now limited authority of the king. But as

these points could not be supposed be clear during the time as they are,

or may be, at present, there are great reasons of alleviation for men

who were heated by the controversy, or engaged in the action. And it

is remarkable, that even at present, (such is the force of party

prejudices,) there are few people who have coolness enough to see these

matters in a proper light, or are convinced that the parliament could

prudently have stopped in their pretensions. They still plead the

violations of liberty attempted by the king, after granting the petition

of right; without considering the extreme harsh treatment which he

met with after making that great concession, and the impossibility of

supporting government by the revenue then settled on the crown. The

worst of it is, that there was a great tang of enthusiasm in the conduct

of the parliamentary leaders, which, though it might render their

conduct sincere, will not much enhance their character with posterity.

And though Hambden was, perhaps, less infected with this spirit than

many of his associates, he appears not to have been altogether free from

it. Eds intended migration to America, where he could only propose the

advantage of enjoying Puritanical prayers and sermons, will be allowed a

proof of the prevalence of this spirit in him.]

[Footnote 14: NOTE N, p. 260. In a letter of the king to the queen,

preserved in the British Museum, and published by Mrs. Macaulay, (vol.

iv. p. 420,) he says, that unless religion was preserved, the militia

(being not, as in France, a formed powerful strength) would be of little

use to the crown; and that if the pulpits had not obedience, which would

never be if Presbyterian government was absolutely established, the king

would have but small comfort of the militia. This reasoning shows the

king's good sense, and proves that his attachment to Episcopacy, though

partly founded on religious principles, was also, in his situation,

derived from the soundest views of civil policy. In reality, it was easy

for the king to perceive, by the necessary connection between trifles

and important matters, and by the connection maintained at that time

between religion and politics, that, when he was contending for the

surplice, he was in effect fighting for his crown, and even for his

head. Few of the popular party could perceive this connection. Most of

them were carried headlong by fanaticism; as might be expected in

the ignorant multitude. Few even of the leaders seem to have had more

enlarged views.]

[Footnote 15: NOTE O, p. 298. That Laud's severity was not extreme,

appears from this feet, that he caused the acts or records of the high

commission court to be searched, and found that there had been fewer

suspensions, deprivations, and other punishments, by three, during the

seven years of his time, than hi any seven years of his predecessor,

Abbott, who was, notwithstanding, in great esteem with the house of

commons. Troubles and Trials of Laud, p. 164. But Abbot was little

attached to the court, and was also a Puritan in doctrine, and bore a

mortal hatred to the Papists. Not to mention, that the mutinous spirit

was rising higher in the time of Laud, and would less bear control.

The maxims, however, of his administration were the same that had ever

prevailed in England, and that had place in every other European nation,

except Holland, which studied chiefly the interests of commerce, and

France, which was fettered by edicts and treaties. To have changed them

for the modern maxims of toleration, how reasonable soever, would have

been deemed a very bold and dangerous enterprise. It is a principle

advanced by President Montesquieu, that where the magistrate, is

satisfied with the established religion, he ought to repress the first

attempts towards innovation, and only grant a toleration to sects that

are diffused and established. See L'Esprit des Loix, liv. 25, chap. 10.

According to this principle, Laud's indulgence to the Catholics, and

severity to the Puritans, would admit of apology. I own, however,

that it is very questionable, whether persecution can in any case

be justified; but, at the same time, it would be hard to give that

appellation to Laud's conduct, who only enforced the act of uniformity,

and expelled the clergymen that accepted of benefices, and yet refused

to observe the ceremonies which they previously knew to be enjoined

by law. He never refused them separate places of worship, because they

themselves would have esteemed it impious to demand them, and no less

impious to allow them.]

[Footnote 16: NOTE P, p. 319. Dr. Birch has written a treatise on this

subject It is not my business to oppose any facts contained in that

gentleman's performance. I shall only produce arguments, which prove

that Glamorgan, when he received his private commission, had injunctions

from the king to net altogether in concert with Ormond. 1. It seems to

be implied in the very words of the commission. Glamorgan is empowered

and authorized to treat and conclude with the confederate Roman

Catholics in Ireland. "If upon necessity any (articles) be condescended

unto, wherein the king's lieutenant cannot so well be seen in, as not

fit for us at present publicly to own." Here no articles are mentioned

which are not fit to be communicated to Ormond, but only not fit for

him and the king publicly to be seen in, and to avow. 2. The king's

protestation to Ormond ought, both on account of that prince's

character, and the reasons he assigns, to have the greatest weight. The

words are these: "Ormond, I cannot but add to my long letter, that, upon

the word of a Christian, I never intended Glamorgan should treat any

thing without your approbation, much less without your knowledge.

For besides the injury to you, I was always diffident of his judgment

(though I could not think him so extremely weak as now to my cost I have

found;) which you may easily perceive in a postscript of a letter of

mine to you." Carte, vol. ii. App. xxiii. It is impossible that any man

of honor, however he might dissemble with his enemies, would assert a

falsehood in so solemn a manner to his best friend, especially where

that person must have had opportunities of knowing the truth. The

letter, whose postscript is mentioned by the king, is to be found in

Carte, vol. ii. App. xiii. 3. As the king had really so low an opinion

of Glamorgan's understanding, it is very unlikely that he would trust

him with the sole management of so important and delicate a treaty.

And if he had intended that Glamorgan's negotiation should have been

independent of Ormond, he would never have told the latter nobleman of

it, nor have put him on his guard against Glamorgan's imprudence. That

the king judged aright of this nobleman's character, appears from his

Century of Arts, or Scantling of Inventions, which is a ridiculous

compound of Hes, chimeras, and impossibilities, and shows what might be

expected from such a man. 4. Mr. Carte has published a whole series of

the king's correspondence with Ormond, from the time that Glamorgan came

into Ireland; and it is evident that Charles all along considers the

lord lieutenant as the person who was conducting the negotiations with

the Irish. The 31st of July, 1645, after the battle of Naseby, being

reduced to great straits, he writes earnestly to Ormond, to conclude a

peace upon certain conditions mentioned, much inferior to those granted

by Glamorgan; and to come over himself with all the Irish he could

engage in his service. Carte, vol. iii. No. 400. This would have been a

great absurdity, if he had already fixed a different canal, by which, on

very different conditions, he purposed to establish a peace On the

22d of October, as his distresses multiply, he somewhat enlarges

the conditions, though they still fall short of Glamorgan's; a new

absurdity! See Carte, vol. iii. p. 411. 5. But What is equivalent to

a demonstration that Glamorgan was conscious that he had no powers

to conclude a treaty on these terms, or without consulting the lord

lieutenant, and did not even expect that the king would ratify the

articles, is the defeasance which he gave to the Irish council at the

time of signing the treaty. "The earl of Glamorgan does no way intend

hereby to oblige his majesty other than he himself shall please, after

he has received these ten thousand men as a pledge and testimony of

the said Roman Catholics' loyalty and fidelity to his majesty; yet

he promises faithfully, upon his word and honor, not to acquaint his

majesty with this defeasance, till he had endeavored, as far as in him

lay, to induce his majesty to the granting of the particulars in the

said articles; but that done, the said commissioners discharge the

said earl of Glamorgan, both in honor and conscience, of any further

engagement to them therein; though his majesty should not be pleased

to grant the said particulars in the articles mentioned; the said earl

having given them assurance, upon his word, honor, and voluntary oath,

that he would never, to any person whatsoever, discover this defeasance

in the interim without their consents." Dr. Birch, p. 96. All

Glamorgan's view was to get troops for the king's service without

hurting his own honor or his master's. The wonder only is, why the Irish

accepted of a treaty which bound nobody, and which the very person who

concludes it, seems to confess he does not expect to be ratified. They

probably hoped that the king would, from their services, be more easily

induced to ratify a treaty which was concluded, than to consent to its

conclusion. 6. I might add, that the lord lieutenant's concurrence in

the treaty was the more requisite, because without it the treaty could

not be carried into execution by Glamorgan, nor the Irish troops be

transported into England; and even with Ormond's concurrence, it clearly

appears, that a treaty so ruinous to the Protestant religion in Ireland,

could not be executed in opposition to the zealous Protestants in

that kingdom. No one can doubt of this truth, who peruses Ormond's

correspondence in Mr. Carte. The king was sufficiently apprised of this

difficulty. It appears indeed to be the only reason why Ormond objected

to the granting of high terms to the Irish Catholics.

Dr. Birch (in p. 360) has published a letter of the king's to Glamorgan,

where he says, "Howbeit I know you cannot be but confident of my making

good all instructions and promises to you and the nuncio." But it is to

be remarked, that this letter is dated in April 6th, 1646; after there

had been a new negotiation entered into between Glamorgan and the Irish,

and after a provisional treaty had even been concluded between them. See

Dr. Birch, p. 179. The king's assurances, therefore, can plainly relate

only to this recent transaction. The old treaty had long been disavowed

by the king, and supposed by all parties to be annulled.]

[Footnote 17: NOTE Q, p. 347. Salmonet, Ludlow, Hollis, etc., all these,

especially the last, being the declared inveterate enemies of Cromwell,

are the more to be credited, when they advance any fact which may serve

to apologize for his violent and criminal conduct. There prevails a

story, that Cromwell intercepted a letter written to the queen, where

the king said, that he would first raise, and then destroy Cromwell.

But, besides that this conduct seems to contradict the character of the

king, it is, on other accounts, totally unworthy of credit. It is first

told by Roger Coke, a very passionate and foolish historian, who wrote,

too, so late as King William's reign; and even he mentions it only as a

mere rumor or hearsay, without any known foundation. In the memoirs

of Lord Broghill, we meet with another story of an intercepted letter,

which deserves some more attention, and agrees very well with the

narration here given. It is thus related by Mr. Maurice, chaplain to

Roger, earl of Orrery: "Lord Orrery, in the time of his greatness with

Cromwell, just after he had so seasonably relieved him in his great

distress at Clonmell, riding out of Youghall one day with him and

Ireton, they fell into discourse about the king's death. Cromwell

thereupon said more than once, that if the king had followed his own

judgment, and had been attended by none but trusty servants, he had

fooled them all; and that once they had a mind to have closed with him;

but, upon something that happened, fell off from that design. Orrery,

finding them in good humor, and being alone with them, asked if he

might presume to desire to know why they would once have closed with his

majesty, and why they did not. Cromwell very freely told him, he would

satisfy him in both his queries. The reason, says he, why we would

have closed with the king was this: we found that the Scotch and

Presbyterians began to be more powerful than we, and were likely to

agree with him, and leave us in the lurch. For this reason, we thought

it best to prevent them, by offering first to come in upon reasonable

conditions; but whilst our thoughts were taken up with this subject,

there came a letter to us from one of our spies, who was of the king's

bedchamber, acquainting us, that our final doom was decreed that very

day; that he could not possibly learn what it was, but we might discover

it, if we could but intercept a letter sent from the king to the queen,

wherein he informed her of his resolution; that this letter was sown

up in the skirt of a saddle, and the bearer of it would come with the

saddle upon his head, about ten of the clock that night, to the Blue

Boar in Holborn, where he was to take horse for Dover. The messenger

knew nothing of the letter in the saddle, though some in Dover did.

'We were at Windsor,' said Cromwell, 'when we received this letter; and

immediately upon the receipt of it, Ireton and I resolved to take one

trusty fellow with us, and to go in troopers' habits to that inn. We did

so; and leaving our man at the gate of the inn, (which had a wicket only

open to let persons in and out,) to watch and give us notice when any

man came in with a saddle, we went into a drinking-stall. We there

continued, drinking cans of beer, till about ten of the clock, when our

sentinel at the gate gave us notice that the man with the saddle was

come. We rose up presently, and just as the man was leading out his

horse saddled, we came up to him with drawn swords, and told him we

were to search all that went in and out there: but as he looked like

an honest man, we would only search his saddle, and so dismiss him.

The saddle was ungirt; we carried it into the stall where we had been

drinking and ripping open one of the skirts, we there found the letter

we wanted. Having thus got it into our hands, we delivered the man (whom

we had left with our sentinel) his saddle, told him he was an honest

fellow, and bid him go about his business; which he did, pursuing his

journey without more ado, and ignorant of the harm he had suffered. We

found in the letter, that his majesty acquainted the queen that he was

courted by both factions, the Scotch Presbyterians and the army: and

that those which bade the fairest for him should have him. But yet he

thought he should close with the Scots sooner than with the other. Upon

this we returned to Windsor; and finding we were not like to have good

terms from the king, we from that time vowed his destruction.' This

relation suiting well enough with other passages and circumstances at

this time, I have inserted to gratify the reader's curiosity." Carte's

Ormond, vol. ii. p. 12.]

[Footnote 18: NOTE R, p. 349. These are the words: "Laneric; I wonder

to hear (if that be true) that some of my friends say, that my going to

Jersey would have much more furthered my personal treaty, than my coming

hither, for which, as I see no color of reason, so I had not been here,

if I had thought that fancy true, or had not been secured of a personal

treaty; of which I neither do, nor I hope will repent; for I am daily

more and more satisfied with the governor, and find these islanders very

good, peaceable, and quiet people. This encouragement I have thought not

unfit for you to receive; hoping at least it may do good upon others,

though needless to you." Burnet's Memoirs of Hamilton, p. 326. See also

Rushworth, part 4, vol. ii. p. 941. All the writers of that age, except

Clarendon, represent the king's going to the Isle of Wight as voluntary

and intended. Perhaps the king thought it little for his credit to be

trepanned into this measure, and was more willing to take it on himself

as entirely voluntary. Perhaps he thought it would encourage his

friends, if they thought him in a situation which was not disagreeable

to him.]

[Footnote 19: NOTE S, p. 364. The king composed a letter to the

prince, in which he related the whole course of this transaction, and

accompanied his narrative with several wise, as well as pathetical

reflections and advices. The words with which he concluded the letter,

are remarkable: "By what hath been said, you see how long I have labored

in the search of peace. Do not you be disheartened to tread in the same

steps. Use all worthy means to restore yourself to your rights, but

prefer the way of peace. Show the greatness of your mine, rather to

conquer your enemies by pardoning than by punishing. If you saw

how unmanly and unchristian the implacable disposition is in our

ill-wishers, you would avoid that spirit. Censure me not for having

parted with so much of our right. The price was great, but the commodity

was security to us, peace to my people. And I am confident, that another

parliament would remember how useful a king's power is to a people's

liberty; of how much power I divested myself, that I and they might

meet once again in a parliamentary way, in order to agree the bounds of

prince and people. Give belief to my experience, never to affect more

greatness or prerogative than what is really and intrinsically for the

good of the subjects, not the satisfaction of favorites If you thus use

it, you will never want means to be a father to all, and a bountiful

prince to any whom you incline to be extraordinarily gracious to. You

may perceive, that all men intrust their treasure where it returns them

interest; and if a prince, like the sea, receive and repay all the fresh

streams which the rivers intrust with him, they will not grudge, but

pride themselves to make him up an ocean. These considerations may make

you as great a prince as your father if a low one; and your state may be

so much the more established, as mine hath been shaken. For our subjects

have learned, I dare say, that victories over their princes are but

triumphs over themselves, and so will more unwillingly hearken to

changes hereafter. The English nation are a sober people, however at

present infatuated. I know not but this may be the last time I may speak

to you or the world publicly. I am sensible into what hands I am fallen;

and yet, I bless God, I have those inward refreshments which the malice

of my enemies cannot perturb. I have learned to be busy myself, by

retiring into myself; and therefore can the better digest whatever

befalls me, not doubting but God's providence will restrain our enemies'

power, and turn their fierceness into his praise. To conclude, if God

give you success, use it humbly, and be ever far from revenge. If he

restore you to your right on hard conditions, whatever you promise, keep

These men who have violated laws which they were bound to preserve, will

find their triumphs full of trouble. But do not you think any thing in

the world worth attaining by foul and unjust means."]

[Footnote 20: NOTE T, p. 380. The imputation of insincerity on Charles

I., like most party clamors, is difficult to be removed; though it may

not here be improper to say something with regard to it. I shall first

remark, that this imputation seems to be of a later growth than his

own age; and that even his enemies, though they loaded him with many

calumnies, did not insist on this accusation. Ludlow, I think, is

almost the only parliamentarian who imputes that vice to him; and

how passionate a writer he is, must be obvious to every one. Neither

Clarendon nor any other of the royalists ever justify him from

insincerity, as not supposing that he had ever been accused of it. In

the second place, his deportment and character in common life was free

from that vice. He was reserved, distant, stately; cold in his address,

plain in his discourse, inflexible in his principles; wide of the

caressing, insinuating manners of his son, or the professing, talkative

humor of his father. The imputation of insincerity must be grounded on

some of his public actions, which we are therefore in the third place

to examine. The following are the only instances which I find cited to

confirm that accusation. 1. His vouching Buckingham's narrative of

the transactions in Spain. But it is evident that Charles himself was

deceived: why otherwise did he quarrel with Spain? The following is a

passage of a letter from Lord Kensington, ambassador in France, to the

duke of Buckingham Cabbala p. 318. "But his highness (the prince) had

observed as great a weakness and folly as that, in that after they (the

Spaniards) had used him so ill, they would suffer him to depart, which

was one of the first speeches he uttered after he came into the ship.

But did he say so? said the queen (of France.) Yes, madam, I will

assure you, quoth I, from the witness of mine own ears. She smiled, and

replied, Indeed, I heard he was used ill. So he was, answered I, but

not in his entertainment; for that was as splendid as that country

could afford it; but in their frivolous delays, and in the unreasonable

conditions which they propounded and pressed, upon the advantage they

had of his princely person." 2. Bishop Burnet, in his History of the

House of Hamilton, (p. 154.) has preserved a letter of the king's to

the Scottish bishops, in which he desires them not to be present at the

parliament, where they would be forced to ratify the abolition of their

own order. "For," adds the king, "we do hereby assure you, that it shall

be still one of our chiefest studies how to rectify and establish the

government of that church aright, and to repair your losses, which we

desire you to be most confident of." And in another place, "You may

rest secure, that though perhaps we may give way for the present to that

which will be prejudicial both to the church and our own government, yet

we shall not leave thinking in time how to remedy both." But does the

king say that he will arbitrarily revoke his concessions? Does not

candor require us rather to suppose, that he hoped his authority would

so far recover as to enable him to obtain the national consent to

reestablish Episcopacy, which he believed so material a part of religion

as well as of government? It is not easy indeed to think how he could

hope to effect this purpose in any other way than his father had

taken, that is, by consent of parliament. 3. There is a passage in Lord

Clarendon, where it is said, that the king assented the more easily to

the bill which excluded the bishops from the house of peers, because he

thought that that law, being enacted by force, could not be valid. But

the king certainly reasoned right in that conclusion. Three fourths of

the temporal peers were at that time banished by the violence of the

populace. Twelve bishops were unjustly thrown into the Tower by the

commons. Great numbers of the commons themselves were kept away by fear

or violence. The king himself was chased from London. If all this be not

force, there is no such thing. But this scruple of the king's

affects only the bishops' bill, and that against pressing. The other

constitutional laws had passed without the least appearance of violence,

as did indeed all the bills passed during the first year, except

Strafford's attainder, which could not be recalled. The parliament,

therefore, even if they had known the king's sentiments in this

particular, could not, on that account, have had any just foundation of

jealousy. 4. The king's letter intercepted at Naseby has been the source

of much clamor. We have spoken of it already in chapter lviii. Nothing

is more usual in all public transactions than such distinctions. Alter

the death of Charles II. of Spain, King William's ambassadors gave the

duke of Anjou the title of King of Spain; yet at that very time, King

William was secretly forming alliances to dethrone him and soon after he

refused him that title, and insisted (as he had reason) that he had

not acknowledged his right. Yet King William justly passes for a very

sincere prince; and this transaction is not regarded as any objection to

his character in that particular. In all the negotiations at the peace

of Ryswic, the French ambassadors always addressed King William as king

of England; yet it was made an express article of the treaty, that the

French king should acknowledge him as such. Such a palpable difference

is there between giving a title to a prince, and positively recognizing

his right to it. I may add, that Charles, when he asserted that

protestation in the council books before his council, surely thought he

had reason to justify his conduct. There were too many men of honor in

that company to avow a palpable cheat. To which we may subjoin, that, if

men were as much disposed to judge of this prince's actions with candor

as severity, this precaution of entering a protest in his council

books might rather pass for a proof of scrupulous honor; lest he should

afterwards be reproached with breach of his word, when he should think

proper again to declare the assembly at Westminster no parliament. 5.

The denying of his commission to Glamorgan is another instance which

has been cited. This matter has been already treated in a footnote to

chapter lviii. That transaction was entirely innocent. Even if the king

had given a commission to Glamorgan to conclude that treaty, and had

ratified it, will any reasonable man, in our age, think it strange that,

in order to save his own life, his crown, his family, his friends, and

his party, he should make a treaty with Papists, and grant them very

large concessions for their religion? 6. There is another of the king's

intercepted letters to the queen commonly mentioned; where, it is

pretended, he talked of raising and then destroying Cromwell. But

that story stands on no manner of foundation, as we have observed in a

preceding footnote to this chapter. In a word, the parliament, after

the commencement of their violences, and still more after beginning the

civil war, had reason for their scruples and jealousies, founded on the

very nature of their situation, and on the general propensity of the

human mind; not on any fault of the king's character, who was candid,

sincere, upright; as much as any man whom we meet with in history.

Perhaps it would be difficult to find another character so

unexceptionable in this particular.

As to the other circumstances of Charles's character chiefly exclaimed

against, namely, his arbitrary principles in government, one may venture

to assert, that the greatest enemies of this prince will not find, in

the long line of his predecessors, from the conquest to his time, any

one king, except perhaps his father, whose administration was not more

arbitrary and less legal, or whose conduct could have been recommended

to him, by the popular party themselves, as a model, in this particular,

for his government. Nor is it sufficient to say, that example and

precedent can never authorize vices. Examples and precedents, uniform

and ancient, can surely fix the nature of any constitution, and the

limits of any form of government. There is indeed no other principle by

which those landmarks or boundaries can be settled.

What a paradox in human affairs, that Henry VIII. should have been

almost adored in his lifetime, and his memory be respected; while

Charles I. should, by the same people, at no greater distance than a

century, have been led to a public and ignominious execution, and his

name be ever after pursued by falsehood and by obloquy!

Even at present, an historian, who, prompted by his courageous

generosity, should venture, though from the most authentic and

undisputed facts, to vindicate the fame of that prince, would be sure

to meet with such treatment as would discourage even the boldest from so

dangerous, however splendid an enterprise.]

[Footnote 21: NOTE U, p. 394. The following instance of extravagance is

given by Walker, in his History of Independency, part ii. p. 152. About

this time there came six soldiers into the parish church of Walton upon

Thames, near twilight; Mr. Faucet, the preacher there, not having till

then ended his sermon. One of the soldiers had a lantern in his hand,

and a candle burning in it, and in the other hand four candles not

lighted. He desired the parishioners to stay a while, saying he had a

message from God unto them, and thereupon offered to go into the pulpit.

But the people refusing to give him leave so to do, or to stay in the

church, he went into the churchyard, and there told them that he had a

vision, wherein he had received a command from God to deliver his will

unto them, which he was to deliver and they to receive upon pain

of damnation; consisting of five lights. 1. "That the Sabbath was

abolished, as unnecessary, Jewish, and merely ceremonial. And here

(quoth he) I should put out the first light, but the wind is so high

I cannot kindle it. 2. That tithes are abolished, as Jewish and

ceremonial, a great burden to the saints of God, and a discouragement of

industry and tillage. And here I should put out my second light, etc. 3.

That ministers are abolished, as anti-Christian, and of no longer use,

now Christ himself descends into the hearts of his saints, and his

spirit enlighteneth them with revelations and inspirations. And here

I should put out my third light, etc. 4. Magistrates are abolished,

as useless, now that Christ himself is in purity amongst us, and hath

erected the kingdom of the saints upon earth. Besides they are tyrants,

and oppressors of the liberty of the saints, and tie them to laws and

ordinances, mere human inventions. And here I should put out my fourth

light, etc. 5. Then putting his hand into his pocket, and pulling out

a little Bible, he showed it open to the people, saying, Here is a book

you have in great veneration, consisting of two parts, the Old and

New Testament. I must tell you it is abolished. It containeth beggarly

rudiments, milk for babes. But now Christ is in glory amongst us, and

imparts a further measure of his spirit to his saints than this can

afford. I am commanded to burn it before your face. Then putting out the

candle, he said, And here my fifth light is extinguished." It became a

pretty common doctrine at that time, that it was unworthy of a Christian

man to pay rent to his fellow-creatures; and landlords were obliged to

use all the penalties of law against their tenants, whose conscience was

scrupulous.]

[Footnote 24: NOTE X, p. 424. When the earl of Derby was alive, he had

been summoned by Ireton to surrender the Isle of Man; and he returned

this spirited and memorable answer:

"I received your letter with indignation, and with scorn return you this

answer; that I cannot but wonder whence you should gather any hopes that

I should prove, like you, treacherous to my sovereign; since you cannot

be ignorant of my former actions in his late majesty's service,

from which principles of loyalty I am no whit departed. I scorn your

proffers; I disdain your favor; I abhor your treason; and am so far from

delivering up this island to your advantage, that I shall keep it to the

utmost of my power to your destruction. Take this for your final answer,

and forbear any farther solicitations; for if you trouble me with any

more messages of this nature, I will burn the paper and hang up the

bearer. This is the immutable resolution, and shall be the undoubted

practice of him who accounts it his chiefest glory to be his majesty's

most loyal and obedient subject,

"DERBY."]

[Footnote 25: NOTE Y, p. 426. It had been a usual policy of the

Presbyterian ecclesiastics to settle a chaplain in the great families,

who acted as a spy upon his master, and gave them intelligence of

the most private transactions and discourses of the family; a signal

instance of priestly tyranny, and the subjection of the nobility! They

even obliged the servants to give intelligence against their masters.

Whitlocke, p. 502. The same author (p. 512) tells the following story:

The synod meeting at Perth, and citing the ministers and people who had

expressed a dislike of their heavenly government, the men being out

of the way, their wives resolved to answer for them. And on the day

of appearance, one hundred and twenty women, with good clubs in their

hands, came and besieged the church where the reverend ministers

sat. They sent one of their number to treat with the females; and he,

threatening excommunication, they basted him for his labor, kept him

prisoner, and sent a party of sixty, who routed the rest of the clergy,

bruised their bodies sorely, took all their baggage and twelve horses.

One of the ministers, after a mile's running, taking all creatures

for his foes, meeting with a soldier, fell on his knees, who, knowing

nothing of the matter, asked the blackcoat what he meant. The female

conquerors, having laid hold on the synod clerk, beat him till he

forswore his office. Thirteen ministers rallied about four miles from

the place, and voted that this village should never more have a synod

in it, but be accursed; and that though in the years 1638, and 1639, the

godly women were cried up for stoning the bishops, yet now the whole sex

should be esteemed wicked.]

[Footnote 26: NOTE Z, p. 468. About this time an accident had almost

robbed the protector of his life, and saved his enemies the trouble of

all their machinations. Having got six fine Friesland coach horses, as a

present from the count of Oldenburgh, he undertook for his amusement to

drive them about Hyde Park, his secretary, Thurloe, being in the coach.

The horses were startled and ran away. He was unable to command them

or keep the box. He fell upon the pole, was dragged upon the ground for

some time. A pistol, which he carried in his pocket, went off and by

that singular good fortune which ever attended him, he was taken up

without any considerable hurt or bruise.]

[Footnote 27: NOTE AA, p. 512. After Monk's declaration for a free

parliament on the eleventh of February, he could mean nothing but the

king's restoration; yet it was long before he would open himself even

to the king. This declaration was within eight days after his arrival

in London. Had he ever intended to have set up for himself, he would not

surely have so soon abandoned a project so inviting; he would have taken

some steps which would have betrayed it. It could only have been some

disappointment, some frustrated attempt, which could have made him

renounce the road of private ambition. But there is not the least

symptom of such intentions. The story told of Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper,

by Mr. Locke, has not any appearance of truth. See Lord Linsdowne's

Vindication, and Philips's Continuation of Baker. I shall add to what

those authors have advanced, that Cardinal Mazarine wished for the

king's restoration; though he would not have ventured much to have

procured it.]