They condemned him to be pilloried, whipped, burned in the face, and to have his tongue bored through with a red-hot iron. All these severities he bore with the usual patience. So far his delusion supported him. But the sequel spoiled all. He was sent to Bridewell, confined to hard labor, fed on bread and water, and debarred from all his disciples, male and female. His illusions dissipated; and after some time, he was contented to come out an ordinary man, and return to his usual occupations.

The chief taxes in England, during the time of the commonwealth, were the monthly assessments, the excise, and the customs. The assessments were levied on personal estates as well as on land;[*] and commissioners were appointed in each county for rating the individuals. The highest assessment amounted to one hundred and twenty thousand pounds a month in England; the lowest was thirty-five thousand. The assessments in Scotland were sometimes ten thousand pounds a month;[**] commonly six thousand. Those on Ireland nine thousand. At a medium, this tax might have afforded about a million a year. The excise, during the civil wars, was levied on bread, flesh-meat, as well as beer, ale, strong waters and many other commodities. After the king was subdued bread and flesh-meat were exempted from excise. The customs on exportation were lowered in 1656.[***] In 1650, commissioners were appointed to levy both customs and excises. Cromwell, in 1657, returned to the old practice of farming. Eleven hundred thousand pounds were then offered, both for customs and excise, a greater sum than had ever been levied by the commissioners:[****] the whole of the taxes during that period might at a medium amount to above two millions a year; a sum which, though moderate, much exceeded the revenue of any former king.[v] Sequestrations, compositions, sale of crown and church lands, and of the lands of delinquents, yielded also considerable sums, but very difficult to be estimated. Church lands are said to have been sold for a million.[v*] None of these were ever valued at above ten or eleven years’ purchase.[v**] The estates of delinquents amounted to above two hundred thousand pounds a year.[**] Cromwell died more than two millions in debt;[v***] though the parliament had left him in the treasury above five hundred thousand pounds; and in stores, the value of seven hundred thousand pounds.[v****]

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***]

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]

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.[****]

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,[***]

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

1 (return)
[ 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.]

2 (return)
[ 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.]

3 (return)
[ 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.]

4 (return)
[ 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.”]

5 (return)
[ 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.]

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[ 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?]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.]

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[ 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.”]