These grants continued to be made as before, by the consent indeed of the houses of parliament, but not as legislative enactments. Most of the few instances where they appear among the statutes are where some condition is annexed, or some relief of grievances so interwoven with them that they make part of a new law.[54] In the reign of Henry VII. they are occasionally inserted among the statutes, though still without any enacting words.[55] In that of Henry VIII. the form is rather more legislative, and they are said to be enacted by the authority of parliament, though the king's name is not often mentioned till about the conclusion of his reign;[56] after which a sense of the necessity of expressing his legislative authority seems to have led to its introduction in some part or other of the bill.[57] The Lords and Commons are sometimes both said to grant, but more frequently the latter with the former's assent, as continued to be the case through the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. In the first parliament of Charles I., the Commons began to omit the name of the Lords in the preamble of bills of supply, reciting the grant as if wholly their own, but in the enacting words adopted the customary form of statutes. This, though once remonstrated against by the upper house, has continued ever since to be the practice.
The originating power as to taxation was thus indubitably placed in the House of Commons; nor did any controversy arise upon that ground. But they maintained also that the Lords could not make any amendment whatever in bills sent up to them for imposing, directly or indirectly, a charge upon the people. There seems no proof that any difference between the two houses on this score had arisen before the restoration; and in the convention parliament the Lords made several alterations in undoubted money-bills, to which the Commons did not object. But in 1661, the Lords having sent down a bill for paving the streets of Westminster, to which they desired the concurrence of the Commons, the latter, on reading the bill a first time, "observing that it went to lay a charge upon the people, and conceiving that it was a privilege inherent in their house that bills of that nature should be first considered there," laid it aside, and caused another to be brought in.[58] When this was sent up to the Lords, they inserted a clause, to which the Commons disagreed, as contrary to their privileges, because the people cannot have any tax or charge imposed upon them, but originally by the House of Commons. The Lords resolved this assertion of the Commons to be against the inherent privileges of the House of Peers; and mentioned one precedent of a similar bill in the reign of Mary, and two in that of Elizabeth, which had begun with them. The present bill was defeated by the unwillingness of either party to recede; but for a few years after, though the point in question was still agitated, instances occur where the Commons suffered amendments in what were now considered as money-bills to pass, and others where the Lords receded from them rather than defeat the proposed measure. In April 1671, however, the Lords having reduced the amount of an imposition on sugar, it was resolved by the other house, "That in all aids given to the king by the Commons, the rate or tax ought not to be altered by the Lords."[59] This brought on several conferences between the houses, wherein the limits of the exclusive privilege claimed by the Commons were discussed with considerable ability, and less heat than in the disputes concerning judicature; but, as I cannot help thinking, with a decided advantage both as to precedent and constitutional analogy on the side of the peers.[60] If the Commons, as in early times, had merely granted their own money, it would be reasonable that their house should have, as it claimed to have, "a fundamental right as to the matter, the measure, and the time." But that the peers, subject to the same burthens as the rest of the community, and possessing no trifling proportion of the general wealth, should have no other alternative than to refuse the necessary supplies of the revenue, or to have their exact proportion, with all qualifications and circumstances attending their grant, presented to them unalterably by the other house of parliament, was an anomaly that could hardly rest on any other ground of defence than such a series of precedents as establish a constitutional usage; while, in fact, it could not be made out that such a pretension was ever advanced by the Commons before the present parliament. In the short parliament of April 1640, the Lords having sent down a message, requesting the other house to give precedency in the business they were about to matter of supply, it had been highly resented, as an infringement of their privilege; and Mr. Pym was appointed to represent their complaint at a conference. Yet even then, in the fervour of that critical period, the boldest advocate of popular privileges who could have been selected was content to assert that the matter of subsidy and supply ought to begin in the House of Commons.[61]
There seems to be still less pretext for the great extension given by the Commons to their acknowledged privilege of originating bills of supply. The principle was well adapted to that earlier period when security against misgovernment could only be obtained by the vigilant jealousy and uncompromising firmness of the Commons. They came to the grant of subsidy with real or feigned reluctance, as the stipulated price of redress of grievances. They considered the Lords, generally speaking, as too intimately united with the king's ordinary council, which indeed sat with them, and had perhaps, as late as Edward III.'s time, a deliberative voice. They knew the influence or intimidating ascendency of the peers over many of their own members. It may be doubted in fact whether the lower house shook off, absolutely and permanently, all sense of subordination, or at least deference, to the upper, till about the close of the reign of Elizabeth. But I must confess that, in applying the wise and ancient maxim, that the Commons alone can empower the king to levy the people's money, to a private bill for lighting and cleansing a certain town, or cutting dikes in a fen, to local and limited assessments for local benefit (as to which the Crown has no manner of interest, nor has anything to do with the collection), there was more disposition shown to make encroachments than to guard against those of others. They began soon after the revolution to introduce a still more extraordinary construction of their privilege, not receiving from the House of Lords any bill which imposes a pecuniary penalty on offenders, nor permitting them to alter the application of such as have been imposed below.[62]
These restrictions upon the other house of parliament, however, are now become, in their own estimation, the standing privileges of the Commons. Several instances have occurred during the last century, though not, I believe, very lately, when bills, chiefly of a private nature, have been unanimously rejected, and even thrown over the table by the speaker, because they contained some provision in which the Lords had trespassed upon these alleged rights.[63] They are, as may be supposed, very differently regarded in the neighbouring chamber. The Lords have never acknowledged any further privilege than that of originating bills of supply. But the good sense of both parties, and of an enlightened nation, who must witness and judge of their disputes, as well as the natural desire of the government to prevent in the outset any altercation that must impede the course of its measures, have rendered this little jealousy unproductive of those animosities which it seemed so happily contrived to excite. The one house, without admitting the alleged privilege, has generally been cautious not to give a pretext for eagerly asserting it; and the other, on the trifling occasions where it has seemed, perhaps unintentionally, to be infringed, has commonly resorted to the moderate course of passing a fresh bill to the same effect, after satisfying its dignity by rejecting the first.
State of the upper house under the Tudors and Stuarts.—It may not be improper to choose the present occasion for a summary view of the constitution of both houses of parliament under the lines of Tudor and Stuart. Of their earlier history the reader may find a brief, and not, I believe, very incorrect account in a work to which this is a kind of sequel.
Augmentation of the temporal lords.—The number of temporal lords summoned by writ to the parliaments of the house of Plantagenet was exceedingly various; nor was anything more common in the fourteenth century than to omit those who had previously sat in person, and still more their descendants. They were rather less numerous for this reason, under the line of Lancaster, when the practice of summoning those who were not hereditary peers did not so much prevail as in the preceding reigns. Fifty-three names however appear in the parliament of 1454, the last held before the commencement of the great contest between York and Lancaster. In this troublous period of above thirty years, if the whole reign of Edward IV. is to be included, the chiefs of many powerful families lost their lives in the field or on the scaffold, and their honours perished with them by attainder. New families, adherents of the victorious party, rose in their place; and sometimes an attainder was reversed by favour; so that the peers of Edward's reign were not much fewer than the number I have mentioned. Henry VII. summoned but twenty-nine to his first parliament, including some whose attainder had never been judicially reversed; a plain act of violence, like his previous usurpation of the Crown. In his subsequent parliaments the peerage was increased by fresh creations, but never much exceeded forty. The greatest number summoned by Henry VIII. was fifty-one; which continued to be nearly the average in the two next reigns, and was very little augmented by Elizabeth. James, in his thoughtless profusion of favour, made so many new creations, that eighty-two peers sat in his first parliament, and ninety-six in his latest. From a similar facility in granting so cheap a reward of service, and in some measure perhaps from the policy of counteracting a spirit of opposition to the court, which many of the Lords had begun to manifest, Charles called no less than one hundred and seventeen peers to the parliament of 1628, and one hundred and nineteen to that of November 1640. Many of these honours were sold by both these princes; a disgraceful and dangerous practice, unheard of in earlier times, by which the princely peerage of England might have been gradually levelled with the herd of foreign nobility. This has occasionally, though rarely, been suspected since the restoration. In the parliament of 1661, we find one hundred and thirty-nine lords summoned.
The spiritual lords, who, though forming another estate in parliament, have always been so united with the temporality that the suffrages of both upon every question are told indistinctly and numerically, composed in general, before the reformation, a majority of the upper house; though there was far more irregularity in the summonses of the mitred abbots and priors than those of the barons. But by the surrender and dissolution of the monasteries, about thirty-six votes of the clergy on an average were withdrawn from the parliament; a loss ill compensated to them by the creation of five new bishoprics. Thus, the number of the temporal peers being continually augmented, while that of the prelates was confined to twenty-six, the direct influence of the church on the legislature has become comparatively small; and that of the Crown, which, by the pernicious system of translations and other means, is generally powerful with the episcopal bench, has, in this respect at least, undergone some diminution. It is easy to perceive from this view of the case that the destruction of the monasteries, as they then stood, was looked upon as an indispensable preliminary to the reformation; no peaceable efforts towards which could have been effectual without altering the relative proportions of the spiritual and temporal aristocracy.
The House of Lords, during this period of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, were not supine in rendering their collective and individual rights independent of the Crown. It became a fundamental principle, according indeed to ancient authority, though not strictly observed in ruder times, that every peer of full age is entitled to his writ of summons at the beginning of a parliament, and that the house will not proceed on business, if any one is denied it.[64] The privilege of voting by proxy, which was originally by special permission of the king, became absolute, though subject to such limitations as the house itself may impose. The writ of summons, which, as I have observed, had in earlier ages (if usage is to determine that which can rest on nothing but usage) given only a right of sitting in the parliament for which it issued, was held, about the end of Elizabeth's reign, by a construction founded on later usage, to convey an inheritable peerage, which was afterwards adjudged to descend upon heirs general, female as well as male; an extension which sometimes raises intricate questions of descent, and though no materially bad consequences have flowed from it, is perhaps one of the blemishes in the constitution of parliament. Doubts whether a peerage could be surrendered to the king, and whether a territorial honour, of which hardly any remain, could be alienated along with the land on which it depended, were determined in the manner most favourable to the dignity of the aristocracy. They obtained also an important privilege; first of recording their dissent in the journals of the house, and afterwards of inserting the grounds of it. Instances of the former occur not unfrequently at the period of the reformation; but the latter practice was little known before the long parliament. A right that Cato or Phocion would have prized, though it may sometimes have been frivolously or factiously exercised!
State of the commons.—The House of Commons, from the earliest records of its regular existence in the 23rd year of Edward I., consisted of seventy-four knights, or representatives from all the counties of England, except Chester, Durham, and Monmouth, and of a varying number of deputies from the cities and boroughs; sometimes in the earliest period of representation amounting to as many as two hundred and sixty; sometimes, by the negligence or partiality of the sheriffs in omitting places that had formerly returned members, to not more than two-thirds of that number. New boroughs, however, as being grown into importance, or from some private motive, acquired the franchise of election; and at the accession of Henry VIII. we find two hundred and twenty-four citizens and burgesses from one hundred and eleven towns (London sending four), none of which have since intermitted their privilege.
Question as to rights of election.—I must so far concur with those whose general principles as to the theory of parliamentary reform leave me far behind, as to profess my opinion that the change, which appears to have taken place in the English government towards the end of the thirteenth century, was founded upon the maxim that all who possessed landed or movable property ought, as freemen, to be bound by no laws, and especially by no taxation, to which they had not consented through their representatives. If we look at the constituents of a House of Commons under Edward I. or Edward III., and consider the state of landed tenures and of commerce at that period, we shall perceive that, excepting women, who have generally been supposed capable of no political right but that of reigning, almost every one who contributed towards the tenths and fifteenths granted by the parliament, might have exercised the franchise of voting for those who sat in it. Were we even to admit, that in corporate boroughs the franchise may have been usually vested in the freemen rather than the inhabitants, yet this distinction, so important in later ages, was of little consequence at a time when all traders, that is all who possessed any movable property worth assessing, belonged to the former class. I do not pretend that no one was contributory to a subsidy, who did not possess a vote; but that the far greater portion was levied on those who, as freeholders or burgesses, were reckoned in law to have been consenting to its imposition. It would be difficult probably to name any town of the least consideration in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, which did not, at some time or other, return members to parliament. This is so much the case that if, in running our eyes along the map, we find any sea-port, as Sunderland or Falmouth, or any inland town, as Leeds or Birmingham, which has never enjoyed the elective franchise, we may conclude at once that it has emerged from obscurity since the reign of Henry VIII.[65]
Though scarce any considerable town, probably, was intentionally left out, except by the sheriffs' partiality, it is not to be supposed that all boroughs that made returns were considerable. Several that are currently said to be decayed, were never much better than at present. Some of these were the ancient demesne of the Crown; the tenants of which not being suitors to the county courts, nor voting in the election of knights for the shire, were, still on the same principle of consent to public burthens, called upon to send their own representatives. Others received the privilege along with their charter of incorporation, in the hope that they would thrive more than proved to be the event; and possibly, even in such early times, the idea of obtaining influence in the Commons through the votes of their burgesses might sometimes suggest itself.
That, amidst all this care to secure the positive right of representation, so little provision should have been made as to its relative efficiency, that the high-born and opulent gentry should have been so vastly outnumbered by peddling traders, that the same number of two should have been deemed sufficient for the counties of York and Rutland, for Bristol and Gatton, are facts more easy to wonder at than to explain; for, though the total ignorance of the government as to the relative population might be perhaps a sufficient reason for not making an attempt at equalisation, yet if the representation had been founded on anything like a numerical principle, there would have been no difficulty in reducing it to the proportion furnished by the books of subsidy for each county and borough, or at least in a rude approximation towards a more rational distribution.
Henry VIII. gave a remarkable proof that no part of the kingdom, subject to the English laws and parliamentary burthens, ought to want its representation, by extending the right of election to the whole of Wales, the counties of Chester and Monmouth, and even the towns of Berwick and Calais. It might be possible to trace the reason, why the county of Durham was passed over. The attachment of those northern parts to popery seems as likely as any other. Thirty-three were thus added to the Commons. Edward VI. created fourteen boroughs, and restored ten that had disused their privilege. Mary added twenty-one, Elizabeth sixty, and James twenty-seven members.[66]
These accessions to the popular chamber of parliament after the reign of Henry VIII. were by no means derived from a popular principle, such as had influenced its earlier constitution. We may account perhaps on this ground for the writs addressed to a very few towns, such as Westminster. But the design of that great influx of new members from petty boroughs, which began in the short reigns of Edward and Mary, and continued under Elizabeth, must have been to secure the authority of government, especially in the successive revolutions of religion. Five towns only in Cornwall made returns at the accession of Edward VI.; twenty-one at the death of Elizabeth. It will not be pretended that the wretched villages, which corruption and perjury still hardly keep from famine, were seats of commerce and industry in the sixteenth century. But the county of Cornwall was more immediately subject to a coercive influence, through the indefinite and oppressive jurisdiction of the stannary court. Similar motives, if we could discover the secrets of those governments, doubtless operated in most other cases. A slight difficulty seems to have been raised in 1563 about the introduction of representatives from eight new boroughs at once by charters from the Crown, but was soon waived with the complaisance usual in those times. Many of the towns, which had abandoned their privilege at a time when they were compelled to the payment of daily wages to their members during the session, were now desirous of recovering it, when that burthen had ceased and the franchise had become valuable. And the house, out of favour to popular rights, laid it down in the reign of James I. as a principle, that every town, which has at any time returned members to parliament, is entitled to a writ as a matter of course. The speaker accordingly issued writs to Hertford, Pomfret, Ilchester, and some other places, on their petition. The restorations of boroughs in this manner, down to 1641, are fifteen in number. But though the doctrine that an elective right cannot be lost by disuse, is still current in parliament, none of the very numerous boroughs which have ceased to enjoy that franchise since the days of the three first Edwards, have from the restoration downwards made any attempt at retrieving it; nor is it by any means likely that they would be successful in the application. Charles I., whose temper inspired him rather with a systematic abhorrence of parliaments than with any notion of managing them by influence, created no new boroughs. The right indeed would certainly have been disputed, however frequently exercised. In 1673 the county and city of Durham, which had strangely been unrepresented to so late an æra, were raised by act of parliament to the privileges of their fellow-subjects.[67] About the same time a charter was granted to the town of Newark, enabling it to return two burgesses. It passed with some little objection at the time; but four years afterwards, after two debates, it was carried on the question, by 125 to 73, that by virtue of the charter granted to the town of Newark, it hath right to send burgesses to serve in parliament.[68] Notwithstanding this apparent recognition of the king's prerogative to summon burgesses from a town not previously represented, no later instance of its exercise has occurred; and it would unquestionably have been resisted by the Commons, not, as is vulgarly supposed, because the act of union with Scotland has limited the English members to 513 (which is not the case), but upon the broad maxims of exclusive privilege in matters relating to their own body, which the house was become powerful enough to assert against the Crown.
It is doubtless a problem of no inconsiderable difficulty to determine with perfect exactness, by what class of persons the electoral franchise in ancient boroughs was originally possessed; yet not perhaps so much so as the carelessness of some, and the artifices of others, have caused it to appear. The different opinions on this controverted question may be reduced to the four following theses:—1. The original right as enjoyed by boroughs represented in the parliaments of Edward I., and all of later creation, where one of a different nature has not been expressed in the charter from which they derive the privilege, was in the inhabitant householders resident in the borough, and paying scot and lot, under those words including local rates, and probably general taxes. 2. The right sprang from the tenure of certain freehold lands or burgages within the borough, and did not belong to any but such tenants. 3. It was derived from charters of incorporation, and belonged to the community or freemen of the corporate body. 4. It did not extend to the generality of freemen, but was limited to the governing part or municipal magistracy. The actual right of election, as fixed by determinations of the House of Commons before 1772, and by committees under the Grenville act since, is variously grounded upon some of these four principal rules, each of which has been subject to subordinate modifications which produce still more complication and irregularity.
Of these propositions, the first was laid down by a celebrated committee of the House of Commons in 1624, the chairman whereof was Serjeant Glanville, and the members, as appears by the list in the journals, the most eminent men, in respect of legal and constitutional knowledge, that were ever united in such a body. It is called by them the common-law right, and that which ought always to obtain, where prescriptive usage to the contrary cannot be shown. But it has met with very little favour from the House of Commons since the restoration. The second has the authority of Lord Holt in the case of Ashby and White, and of some other lawyers who have turned their attention to the subject. It countenances what is called the right of burgage tenure; the electors in boroughs of this description being such as hold burgages or ancient tenements within the borough. The next theory, which attaches the primary franchise to the freemen of corporations, has on the whole been most received in modern times, if we look either at the decisions of the proper tribunal, or the current doctrine of lawyers. The last proposition is that of Dr. Brady, who in a treatise of boroughs, written to serve the purposes of James II., though not published till after the revolution, endeavoured to settle all elective rights on the narrowest and least popular basis. This work gained some credit, which its perspicuity and acuteness would deserve, if these were not disgraced by a perverse sophistry and suppression of truth.
It does not appear at all probable that such varying and indefinite usages, as we find in our present representation of boroughs, could have begun simultaneously, when they were first called to parliament by Edward I. and his two next descendants. There would have been what may be fairly called a common-law right, even were we to admit that some variation from it may, at the very commencement, have occurred in particular places. The earliest writ of summons directed the sheriff to make a return from every borough within his jurisdiction, without any limitation to such as had obtained charters, or any rule as to the electoral body. Charters, in fact, incorporating towns seem to have been by no means common in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries; and though they grew more frequent afterwards, yet the first that gave expressly a right of returning members to parliament was that of Wenlock under Edward IV. These charters, it has been contended, were incorporations of the inhabitants, and gave no power either to exclude any of them or to admit non-resident strangers, according to the practice of later ages. But, however this may be, it is highly probable that the word burgess (burgensis), long before the elective franchise or the character of a corporation existed, meant literally the free inhabitant householder of a borough, a member of its court-leet, and subject to its jurisdiction. We may, I believe, reject with confidence what I have reckoned as the third proposition; namely, that the elective franchise belonged, as of common right, to the freemen of corporations; and still more that of Brady, which few would be found to support at the present day.
There can, I should conceive, be little pretence for affecting to doubt that the burgesses of Domesday-book, of the various early records cited by Madox and others, and of the writs of summons to Edward's parliament, were inhabitants of tenements within the borough. But it may remain to be proved that any were entitled to the privileges or rank of burgesses, who held less than an estate of freehold in their possessions. The burgage-tenure, of which we read in Littleton, was evidently freehold; and it might be doubtful whether the lessees of dwellings for a term of years, whose interest, in contemplation of law, is far inferior to a freehold, were looked upon as sufficiently domiciled within the borough to obtain the appellation of burgesses. It appears from Domesday that the burgesses, long before any incorporation, held lands in common belonging to their town; they had also their guild or market-house, and were entitled in some places to tolls and customs. These permanent rights seem naturally restrained to those who possessed an absolute property in the soil. There can surely be no question as to mere tenants at will, liable to be removed from their occupation at the pleasure of the lord; and it is perhaps unnecessary to mention that the tenancy from year to year, so usually present, is of very recent introduction. As to estates for a term of years, even of considerable duration, they were probably not uncommon in the time of Edward I.; yet far outnumbered, as I should conceive, by those of a freehold nature. Whether these lessees were contributory to the ancient local burthens of scot and lot, as well as to the tallages exacted by the king, and tenths afterwards imposed by parliament in respect of movable estate, it seems not easy to determine; but if they were so, as appears more probable, it was not only consonant to the principle, that no freeman should be liable to taxation without the consent of his representatives, to give them a share in the general privilege of the borough, but it may be inferred with sufficient evidence from several records, that the privilege and the burthen were absolutely commensurate; men having been specially discharged from contributing to tallages, because they did not participate in the liberties of the borough, and others being expressly declared subject to those impositions, as the condition of their being admitted to the rights of burgesses.[69] It might however be conjectured that a difference of usage between those boroughs, where the ancient exclusive rights of burgage tenants were maintained, and those where the equitable claim of taxable inhabitants possessing only a chattel interest received attention, might ultimately produce those very opposite species of franchise, which we find in the scot and lot borough, and in those of burgage-tenure. If the franchise, as we now denominate it, passed in the thirteenth century for a burthen, subjecting the elector to bear his part in the payment of wages to the representative, the above conjecture will be equally applicable, by changing the words right and claim into liability.[70]
It was according to the natural course of things, that the mayors or bailiffs, as returning officers, with some of the principal burgesses (especially where incorporating charters had given them a pre-eminence), would take to themselves the advantage of serving a courtier or neighbouring gentleman, by returning him to parliament, and virtually exclude the general class of electors, indifferent to public matters, and without a suspicion that their individual suffrages could ever be worth purchase. It is certain that a seat in the Commons was an object of ambition in the time of Edward IV., and I have little doubt that it was so in many instances much sooner. But there existed not the means of that splendid corruption which has emulated the Crassi and Luculli of Rome. Even so late as 1571, Thomas Long, a member for Westbury, confessed that he had given four pounds to the mayor and another person for his return. The elections were thus generally managed, not often perhaps by absolute bribery, but through the influence of the government and of the neighbouring aristocracy; and while the freemen of the corporation, or resident householders, were frequently permitted, for the sake of form, to concur in the election, there were many places where the smaller part of the municipal body, by whatever names distinguished, acquired a sort of prescriptive right through an usage, of which it was too late to show the commencement.[71]
It was perceived, however, by the assertors of the popular cause under James I. that, by this narrowing of the electoral franchise, many boroughs were subjected to the influence of the privy council, which, by restoring the householders to their legitimate rights, would strengthen the interests of the country. Hence Lord Coke lays it down in his fourth institute, that "if the king newly incorporate an ancient borough, which before sent burgesses to parliament, and granteth that certain selected burgesses shall make election of the burgesses of parliament, where all the burgesses elected before, this charter taketh not away the election of the other burgesses. And so, if a city or borough hath power to make ordinances, they cannot make an ordinance that a less number shall elect burgesses for the parliament than made the election before; for free elections of members of the high court of parliament are pro bono publico, and not to be compared to other cases of election of mayors, bailiffs, etc., of corporations.[72] He adds, however, "by original grant or by custom, a selected number of burgesses may elect and bind the residue." This restriction was admitted by the committee over which Glanville presided in 1624.[73] But both they and Lord Coke believed the representation of boroughs to be from a date before what is called legal memory, that is, the accession of Richard I. It is not easy to reconcile their principle, that an elective right once subsisting could not be limited by anything short of immemorial prescription, with some of their own determinations, and still less with those which have subsequently occurred, in favour of a restrained right of suffrage. There seems, on the whole, great reason to be of opinion, that where a borough is so ancient as to have sent members to parliament before any charter of incorporation proved, or reasonably presumed to have been granted, or where the word burgensis is used without anything to restrain its meaning in an ancient charter, the right of election ought to have been acknowledged either in the resident householders paying general and local taxes, or in such of them as possessed an estate of freehold within the borough. And whatever may have been the primary meaning of the word burgess, it appears consonant to the popular spirit of the English constitution that, after the possessors of leasehold interests became so numerous and opulent as to bear a very large share in the public burthens, they should have enjoyed commensurate privileges; and that the resolution of Mr. Glanville's committee in favour of what they called the common-law right should have been far more uniformly received, and more consistently acted upon, not merely as agreeable to modern theories of liberty, from which some have intimated it to have sprung, but as grounded on the primitive spirit and intention of the law of parliament.
In the reign of Charles II. the House of Commons seems to have become less favourable to this species of franchise. But after the revolution, when the struggle of parties was renewed every three years throughout the kingdom, the right of election came more continually into question, and was treated with the grossest partiality by the house, as subordinate to the main interests of the rival factions. Contrary determinations for the sole purpose of serving these interests, as each grew in its turn more powerful, frequently occurred; and at this time the ancient right of resident householders seems to have grown into disrepute, and given way to that of corporations, sometimes at large, sometimes only in a limited and very small number. A slight check was imposed on this scandalous and systematic injustice by the act 2 G. ii. c. 2, which renders the last determination of the House of Commons conclusive as to the right of election.[74] But this enactment confirmed many decisions that cannot be reconciled with any sensible rule. The same iniquity continued to prevail in cases beyond its pale; the fall of Sir Robert Walpole from power was reckoned to be settled, when there appeared a small majority against him on the right of election at Chippenham, a question not very logically connected with the merits of his administration; and the house would to this day have gone on trampling on the franchises of their constituents, if a statute had not been passed through the authority and eloquence of Mr. Grenville, which has justly been known by his name. I shall not enumerate the particular provisions of this excellent law, which, in point of time, does not fall within the period of my present work; it is generally acknowledged that, by transferring the judicature in all cases of controverted elections, from the house to a sworn committee of fifteen members, the reproach of partiality has been a good deal lightened, though not perhaps effaced.
The great question that has been brought forward at the end of the last chapter, concerning the right and usage of election in boroughs, was perhaps of less practical importance in the reign of Charles the Second than we might at first imagine, or than it might become in the present age. Whoever might be the legal electors, it is undoubted that a great preponderance was virtually lodged in the select body of corporations. It was the knowledge of this that produced the corporation act soon after the restoration, to exclude the presbyterians, and the more violent measures of quo warranto at the end of Charles's reign. If by placing creatures of the court in municipal offices, or by intimidating the former corporators through apprehensions of forfeiting their common property and lucrative privileges, what was called a loyal parliament could be procured, the business of government, both as to supply and enactment or repeal of laws, would be carried on far more smoothly, and with less scandal than by their entire disuse. Few of those who assumed the name of tories were prepared to sacrifice the ancient fundamental forms of the constitution. They thought it equally necessary that a parliament should exist, and that it should have no will of its own, or none at least, except for the preservation of that ascendancy of the established religion which even their loyalty would not consent to surrender.
Designs of the king.—It is not easy to determine whether James II. had resolved to complete his schemes of arbitrary government by setting aside even the nominal concurrence of the two houses of parliament in legislative enactments, and especially in levying money on his subjects. Lord Halifax had given him much offence towards the close of the late reign, and was considered from thenceforth as a man unfit to be employed, because in the cabinet, on a question whether the people of New England should be ruled in future by an assembly or by the absolute pleasure of the Crown, he had spoken very freely against unlimited monarchy.[75] James indeed could hardly avoid perceiving that the constant acquiescence of an English House of Commons in the measures proposed to it, a respectful abstinence from all intermeddling with the administration of affairs, could never be relied upon or obtained at all, without much of that dexterous management and influence which he thought it both unworthy and impolitic to exert. It seems clearly that he had determined on trying their obedience merely as an experiment, and by no means to put his authority in any manner within their control. Hence he took the bold step of issuing a proclamation for the payment of customs, which by law expired at the late king's death;[76] and Barillon mentions several times, that he was resolved to continue in the possession of the revenue, whether the parliament should grant it or no. He was equally decided not to accept it for a limited time. This, as his principal ministers told the ambassador, would be to establish the necessity of convoking parliament from time to time, and thus to change the form of government by rendering the king dependent upon it; rather than which it would be better to come at once to the extremity of a dissolution, and maintain the possession of the late king's revenues by open force.[77] But the extraordinary conduct of this House of Commons, so unlike any that had met in England for the last century, rendered any exertion of violence on this score quite unnecessary.
Parliament of 1685.—The behaviour of that unhonoured parliament, which held its two short sessions in 1685, though in a great measure owing to the fickleness of the public mind and rapid ascendancy of tory principles during the late years, as well as to a knowledge of the king's severe and vindictive temper, seems to confirm the assertion strongly made at the time within its walls, that many of the members had been unduly returned.[78] The notorious facts indeed, as to the forfeiture of corporations throughout the kingdom, and their regrant under such restrictions as might serve the purpose of the Crown, stand in need of no confirmation. Those who look at the debates and votes of this assembly, their large grant of a permanent revenue to the annual amount of two millions, rendering a frugal prince, in time of peace, entirely out of all dependence on his people, their timid departure from a resolution taken to address the king on the only matter for which they were really solicitous, the enforcement of the penal laws, on a suggestion of his displeasure,[79] their bill entitled, for the preservation of his majesty's person, full of dangerous innovations in the law of treason, especially one most unconstitutional clause, that any one moving in either house of parliament to change the descent of the Crown should incur the penalties of that offence,[80] their supply of £700,000, after the suppression of Monmouth's rebellion, for the support of a standing army,[81] will be inclined to believe that, had James been as zealous for the church of England as his father, he would have succeeded in establishing a power so nearly despotic that neither the privileges of parliament, nor much less those of private men, would have stood in his way. The prejudice which the two last Stuarts had acquired in favour of the Roman religion, so often deplored by thoughtless or insidious writers as one of the worst consequences of their father's ill fortune, is to be accounted rather among the most signal links in the chain of causes through which a gracious Providence has favoured the consolidation of our liberties and welfare. Nothing less than a motive more universally operating than the interests of civil freedom would have stayed the compliant spirit of this unworthy parliament, or rallied, for a time at least, the supporters of indefinite prerogative under a banner they abhorred.
King's intention to repeal the test act.—We know that the king's intention was to obtain the repeal of the habeas corpus act, a law which he reckoned as destructive of monarchy as the test was of the catholic religion.[82] And I see no reason to suppose that he would have failed of this, had he not given alarm to his high-church parliament, by a premature manifestation of his design to fill the civil and military employments with the professors of his own mode of faith.
It has been doubted by Mr. Fox whether James had, in this part of his reign, conceived the projects commonly imputed to him, of overthrowing, or injuring by any direct acts of power, the protestant establishment of this kingdom. Neither the copious extracts from Barillon's correspondence with his own court, published by Sir John Dalrymple and himself, nor the king's own memoirs, seem, in his opinion, to warrant a conclusion that anything farther was intended than to emancipate the Roman catholics from the severe restrictions of the penal laws, securing the public exercise of their worship from molestation, and to replace them upon an equality as to civil offices, by abrogating the test act of the late reign.[83] We find nevertheless a remarkable conversation of the king himself with the French ambassador, which leaves an impression on the mind that his projects were already irreconcilable with that pledge of support he had rather unadvisedly given to the Anglican church at his accession. This interpretation of his language is confirmed by the expressions used at the same time by Sunderland, which are more unequivocal and point at the complete establishment of the catholic religion.[84] The particular care displayed by James in this conversation, and indeed in so many notorious instances, to place the army, as far as possible, in the command of catholic officers, has very much the appearance of his looking towards the employment of force in overthrowing the protestant church, as well as the civil privileges of his subjects. Yet he probably entertained confident hopes, in the outset of his reign, that he might not be driven to this necessity, or at least should only have occasion to restrain a fanatical populace. He would rely on the intrinsic excellence of his own religion, and still more on the temptations that his favour would hold out. For the repeal of the test would not have placed the two religions on a fair level. Catholics, however little qualified, would have filled, as in fact they did under the dispensing power, most of the principal stations in the court, law, and army. The king told Barillon, he was well enough acquainted with England to be assured, that the admissibility to office would make more catholics than the right of saying mass publicly. There was, on the one hand, a prevailing laxity of principle in the higher ranks, and a corrupt devotedness to power for the sake of the emoluments it could dispense, which encouraged the expectation of such a nominal change in religion as had happened in the sixteenth century. And, on the other, much was hoped by the king from the church itself. He had separated from her communion in consequence of the arguments which her own divines had furnished; he had conversed with men bred in the school of Laud; and was slow to believe that the conclusions which he had, not perhaps unreasonably, derived from the semi-protestant theology of his father's reign, would not appear equally irresistible to all minds, when free from the danger and obloquy that had attended them. Thus by a voluntary return of the clergy and nation to the bosom of the catholic church, he might both obtain an immortal renown, and secure his prerogative against that religious jealousy which had always been the aliment of political factions.[85] Till this revolution however could be brought about, he determined to court the church of England, whose boast of exclusive and unlimited loyalty could hardly be supposed entirely hollow, in order to obtain the repeal of the penal laws and disqualifications which affected that of Rome. And though the maxims of religious toleration had been always in his mouth, he did not hesitate to propitiate her with the most acceptable sacrifice, the persecution of nonconforming ministers. He looked upon the dissenters as men of republican principles; and if he could have made his bargain for the free exercise of the catholic worship, I see no reason to doubt that he would never have announced his general indulgence to tender consciences.[86]
James deceived as to the disposition of his subjects.—But James had taken too narrow a view of the mighty people whom he governed. The laity of every class, the tory gentleman almost equally with the presbyterian artisan, entertained an inveterate abhorrence of the Romish superstition. Their first education, the usual tenor of preaching, far more polemical than at present, the books most current, the tradition of ancient cruelties and conspiracies, rendered this a cardinal point of religion even with those who had little beside. Many still gave credit to the popish plot; and with those who had been compelled to admit its general falsehood, there remained, as is frequently the case, an indefinite sense of dislike and suspicion, like the swell of waves after a storm, which attached itself to all the objects of that calumny.[87] This was of course enhanced by the insolent and injudicious confidence of the Romish faction, especially the priests, in their demeanour, their language, and their publications. Meanwhile a considerable change had been wrought in the doctrinal system of the Anglican church since the restoration. The men most conspicuous in the reign of Charles II. for their writings, and for their argumentative eloquence in the pulpit, were of the class who had been denominated Latitudinarian divines; and while they maintained the principles of the Remonstrants in opposition to the school of Calvin, were powerful and unequivocal supporters of the protestant cause against Rome. They made none of the dangerous concessions which had shaken the faith of the Duke and Duchess of York, they regretted the disuse of no superstitious ceremony, they denied not the one essential characteristic of the reformation, the right of private judgment, they avoided the mysterious jargon of a real presence in the Lord's Supper. Thus such an agreement between the two churches as had been projected at different times was become far more evidently impracticable, and the separation more broad and defined.[88] These men, as well as others who do not properly belong to the same class, were now distinguished by their courageous and able defences of the reformation. The victory, in the judgment of the nation, was wholly theirs. Rome had indeed her proselytes, but such as it would have been more honourable to have wanted. The people heard sometimes with indignation, or rather with contempt, that an unprincipled minister, a temporising bishop, or a licentious poet, had gone over to the side of a monarch who made conformity with his religion the only certain path to his favour.
Prorogation of parliament.—The short period of a four years' reign may be divided by several distinguishing points of time, which make so many changes in the posture of government. From the king's accession to the prorogation of parliament on November 30, 1685, he had acted apparently in concurrence with the same party that had supported him in his brother's reign, of which his own seemed the natural and almost undistinguishable continuation. This party, which had become incomparably stronger than the opposite, had greeted him with such unbounded professions,[89] the temper of its representatives had been such in the first session of parliament, that a prince less obstinate than James might have expected to succeed in attaining an authority which the nation seemed to offer. A rebellion speedily and decisively quelled confirms every government; it seemed to place his own beyond hazard. Could he have been induced to change the order of his designs, and accustom the people to a military force, and to a prerogative of dispensing with statutes of temporal concern, before he meddled too ostensibly with their religion, he would possibly have gained both the objects of his desire. Even conversions to popery might have been more frequent, if the gross solicitations of the court had not made them dishonourable. But, neglecting the hint of a prudent adviser, that the death of Monmouth left a far more dangerous enemy behind, he suffered a victory that might have ensured him success, to inspire an arrogant confidence that led on to destruction. Master of an army, and determined to keep it on foot, he naturally thought less of a good understanding with parliament.[90] He had already rejected the proposition of employing bribery among the members, an expedient very little congenial to his presumptuous temper and notions of government.[91] They were assembled, in his opinion, to testify the nation's loyalty, and thankfulness to their gracious prince for not taking away their laws and liberties. But, if a factious spirit of opposition should once prevail, it could not be his fault if he dismissed them till more becoming sentiments should again gain ground.[92] Hence, he did not hesitate to prorogue, and eventually to dissolve, the most compliant House of Commons that had been returned since his family had sat on the throne, at the cost of £700,000, a grant of supply which thus fell to the ground, rather than endure any opposition on the subject of the test and penal laws. Yet, from the strength of the court in all divisions, it must seem not improbable to us that he might, by the usual means of management, have carried both of those favourite measures, at least through the lower house of parliament. For the Crown lost the most important division only by one vote, and had in general a majority. The very address about unqualified officers, which gave the king such offence as to bring on a prorogation, was worded in the most timid manner; the house having rejected unanimously the words first inserted by their committee, requesting that his majesty would be pleased not to continue them in their employments, for a vague petition that "he would be graciously pleased to give such directions that no apprehensions or jealousies may remain in the hearts of his majesty's good and faithful subjects."[93]
The second period of this reign extends from the prorogation of parliament to the dismissal of the Earl of Rochester from the treasury in 1686. During this time James, exasperated at the reluctance of the Commons to acquiesce in his measures, and the decisive opposition of the church, threw off the half restraint he had imposed on himself; and showed plainly that, with a bench of judges to pronounce his commands, and an army to enforce them, he would not suffer the mockery of constitutional limitations to stand any longer in his way. Two important steps were made this year towards the accomplishment of his designs, by the judgment of the court of king's bench in the case of Sir Edward Hales, confirming the right of the Crown to dispense with the test act, and by the establishment of the new ecclesiastical commission.
The kings of England, if not immemorially, yet from a very early æra in our records, had exercised a prerogative unquestioned by parliament, and recognised by courts of justice, that of granting dispensations from the prohibitions and penalties of particular laws. The language of ancient statutes was usually brief and careless, with few of those attempts to regulate prospective contingencies, which, even with our pretended modern caution, are so often imperfect; and, as the sessions were never regular, sometimes interrupted for several years, there was a kind of necessity, or great convenience, in deviating occasionally from the rigour of a general prohibition; more often perhaps some motive of interest or partiality would induce the Crown to infringe on the legal rule. This dispensing power, however, grew up, as it were, collaterally to the sovereignty of the legislature, which it sometimes appeared to overshadow. It was of course asserted in large terms by counsellors of state, and too frequently by the interpreters of law. Lord Coke, before he had learned the bolder tone of his declining years, lays it down, that no act of parliament can bind the king from any prerogative which is inseparable from his person, so that he may not dispense with it by a non-obtante; such is his sovereign power to command any of his subjects to serve him for the public weal, which solely and inseparably is annexed to his person, and cannot be restrained by any act of parliament. Thus, although the statute 23 H. 6, c. 8, provides that all patents to hold the office of sheriff for more than one year shall be void, and even enacts that the king shall not dispense with it; yet it was held by all the judges in the reign of Henry VII. that the king may grant such a patent for a longer term on good grounds, whereof he alone is the judge. So also the statutes which restrain the king from granting pardons in case of murder have been held void; and doubtless the constant practice has been to disregard them.[94]
This high and dangerous prerogative, nevertheless, was subject to several limitations, which none but the grosser flatterers of monarchy could deny. It was agreed among lawyers that the king could not dispense with the common law, nor with any statute prohibiting that which was malum in se, nor with any right or interest of a private person, or corporation.[95] The rules, however, were still rather complicated, the boundaries indefinite, and therefore varying according to the political character of the judges. For many years dispensations had been confined to taking away such incapacity as either the statutes of a college, or some law of little consequence, perhaps almost obsolete, might happen to have created. But when a collusive action was brought against Sir Edward Hales, a Roman catholic, in the name of his servant, to recover the penalty of £500 imposed by the test act, for accepting the commission of colonel of a regiment, without the previous qualification of receiving the sacrament in the church of England, the whole importance of the alleged prerogative became visible, and the fate of the established constitution seemed to hang upon the decision. The plaintiff's advocate, Northey, was known to have received his fee from the other side, and was thence suspected, perhaps unfairly, of betraying his own cause;[96] but the chief justice Herbert showed that no arguments against this prerogative would have swayed his determination. Not content with treating the question as one of no difficulty, he grounded his decision in favour of the defendant upon principles that would extend far beyond the immediate case. He laid it down that the kings of England were sovereign princes, that the laws of England were the king's laws; that it was consequently an inseparable prerogative of the Crown to dispense with penal laws in particular cases, for reasons of which it was the sole judge. This he called the ancient remains of the sovereign power and prerogative of the kings of England, which never yet was taken from them, nor could be. There was no law, he said, that might not be dispensed with by the supreme lawgiver (meaning evidently the king, since the proposition would otherwise be impertinent); though he made a sort of distinction as to those which affected the subject's private right. But the general maxims of slavish churchmen and lawyers were asserted so broadly that a future judge would find little difficulty in making use of this precedent to justify any stretch of arbitrary power.[97]
It is by no means evident that the decision in this particular case of Hales, which had the approbation of eleven judges out of twelve, was against law.[98] The course of former precedents seems rather to furnish its justification. But the less untenable such a judgment in favour of the dispensing power might appear, the more necessity would men of reflection perceive of making some great change in the relations of the people towards their sovereign. A prerogative of setting aside the enactments of parliament, which in trifling matters, and for the sake of conferring a benefit on individuals, might be suffered to exist with little mischief, became intolerable when exercised in contravention of the very principle of those statutes which had been provided for the security of fundamental liberties or institutions. Thus the test act, the great achievement, as it had been reckoned, of the protestant party, for the sake of which the most subservient of parliaments had just then ventured to lose the king's favour, became absolutely nugatory and ineffective, by a construction which the law itself did not reject. Nor was it easy to provide any sufficient remedy by means of parliament; since it was the doctrine of the judges, that the king's inseparable and sovereign prerogatives in matters of government could not be taken away or restrained by statute. The unadvised assertion in a court of justice of this principle, which though not by any means novel, had never been advanced in a business of such universal concern and interest, may be said to have sealed the condemnation of the house of Stuart. It made the co-existence of an hereditary line, claiming a sovereign prerogative paramount to the liberties they had vouchsafed to concede, incompatible with the security or probable duration of those liberties. This incompatibility is the true basis of the revolution in 1688.
But, whatever pretext the custom of centuries or the authority of compliant lawyers might afford for these dispensations from the test, no legal defence could be made for the ecclesiastical commission of 1686. The high commission court of Elizabeth had been altogether taken away by an act of the long parliament, which went on to provide that no new court should be erected with the like power, jurisdiction, and authority. Yet the commission issued by James II. followed very nearly the words of that which had created the original court under Elizabeth, omitting a few particulars of little moment.[99] It is not known, I believe, at whose suggestion the king adopted this measure. The pre-eminence reserved by the commission to Jefferies, whose presence was made necessary to all their meetings, and the violence with which he acted in all their transactions on record, seems to point him out as its great promoter; though it is true that, at a later period, Jefferies seems to have perceived the destructive indiscretion of the popish counsellors. It displayed the king's change of policy and entire separation from that high-church party, to whom he was indebted for the throne; since the manifest design of the ecclesiastical commission was to bridle the clergy, and silence the voice of protestant zeal. The proceedings against the Bishop of London, and other instances of hostility to the established religion, are well known.
Elated by success and general submission, exasperated by the reluctance and dissatisfaction of those on whom he had relied for an active concurrence with his desires, the king seems at least by this time to have formed the scheme of subverting, or impairing as far as possible, the religious establishment. He told Barillon, alluding to the ecclesiastical commission, that God had permitted all the statutes which had been enacted against the catholic religion to become the means of its re-establishment.[100] But the most remarkable evidence of this design was the collation of Massey, a recent convert, to the deanery of Christ Church, with a dispensation from all the statutes of uniformity and other ecclesiastical laws, so ample that it made a precedent, and such it was doubtless intended to be, for bestowing any benefices upon members of the church of Rome. This dispensation seems to have been not generally known at the time. Burnet has stated the circumstances of Massey's promotion inaccurately; and no historian, I believe, till the publication of the instrument after the middle of the last century, was fully aware of the degree in which the king had trampled upon the securities of the established church in this transaction.[101]
Dismissal of Lord Rochester.—A deeper impression was made by the dismissal of Rochester from his post of lord treasurer; so nearly consequent on his positive declaration of adherence to the protestant religion, after the dispute held in his presence at the king's particular command, between divines of both persuasions, that it had much the appearance of a resolution taken at court to exclude from the high offices of the state all those who gave no hope of conversion.[102] Clarendon had already given way to Tyrconnel in the government of Ireland; the privy seal was bestowed on a catholic peer, Lord Arundel; Lord Bellasis, of the same religion, was now placed at the head of the commission of the treasury; Sunderland, though he did not yet cease to conform, made no secret of his pretended change of opinion; the council board, by virtue of the dispensing power, was filled with those who would refuse the test; a small junto of catholics, with Father Petre, the king's confessor, at their head, took the management of almost all affairs upon themselves;[103] men, whose known want of principle gave reason to expect their compliance, were raised to bishoprics; there could be no rational doubt of a concerted scheme to depress and discountenance the established church. The dismissal of Rochester, who had gone great lengths to preserve his power and emoluments, and would in all probability have concurred in the establishment of arbitrary power under a protestant sovereign,[104] may be reckoned the most unequivocal evidence of the king's intentions; and from thence we may date the decisive measures that were taken to counteract them.
Prince of Orange alarmed.—It was, I do not merely say the interest, but the clear right and bounden duty, of the Prince of Orange, to watch over the internal politics of England, on account of the near connection which his own birth and his marriage with the presumptive heir had created. He was never to be reckoned a foreigner as to this country, which, even in the ordinary course of succession, he might be called to govern. From the time of his union with the Princess Mary, he was the legitimate and natural ally of the whig party; alien in all his sentiments from his two uncles, neither of whom, especially James, treated him with much regard, on account merely of his attachment to religion and liberty, for he might have secured their affection by falling into their plans. Before such differences as subsisted between these personages, the bonds of relationship fall asunder like flax; and William would have had at least the sanction of many precedents in history, if he had employed his influence to excite sedition against Charles or James, and to thwart their administration. Yet his conduct appears to have been merely defensive; nor had he the remotest connection with the violent and factious proceedings of Shaftesbury and his partisans. He played a very dexterous, but apparently very fair, game throughout the last years of Charles; never losing sight of the popular party, through whom alone he could expect influence over England during the life of his father-in-law, while he avoided any direct rupture with the brothers, and every reasonable pretext for their taking offence.
It has never been established by any reputable testimony, though perpetually asserted, nor is it in the least degree probable, that William took any share in prompting the invasion of Monmouth.[105] But it is nevertheless manifest that he derived the greatest advantage from this absurd rebellion and from its failure; not only, as it removed a mischievous adventurer, whom the multitude's idle predilection had elevated so high, that factious men would, under every government, have turned to account his ambitious imbecility; but as the cruelty with which this unhappy enterprise was punished rendered the king odious,[106] while the success of his arms inspired him with false confidence, and neglect of caution. Every month, as it brought forth evidence of James's arbitrary projects, increased the number of those who looked for deliverance to the Prince of Orange, either in the course of succession, or by some special interference. He had, in fact, a stronger motive for watching the councils of his father-in-law than has generally been known. The king was, at his accession, in his fifty-fifth year, and had no male children; nor did the queen's health give much encouragement to expect them. Every dream of the nation's voluntary return to the church of Rome must have vanished, even if the consent of a parliament could be obtained, which was nearly vain to think of; or if open force and the aid of France should enable James to subvert the established religion, what had the catholics to anticipate from his death, but that fearful reaction which had ensued upon the accession of Elizabeth? This had already so much disheartened the moderate part of their body that they were most anxious not to urge forward a change, for which the kingdom was not ripe, and which was so little likely to endure, and used their influence to promote a reconciliation between the king and Prince of Orange, contenting themselves with that free exercise of their worship which was permitted in Holland.[107] But the ambitious priesthood who surrounded the throne had bolder projects. A scheme was formed early in the king's reign, to exclude the Princess of Orange from the succession in favour of her sister Anne, in the event of the latter's conversion to the Romish faith. The French ministers at our court, Barillon and Bonrepos, gave ear to this hardy intrigue. They flattered themselves that both Anne and her husband were favourably disposed. But in this they were wholly mistaken. No one could be more unconquerably fixed in her religion than that princess. The king himself, when the Dutch ambassador, Van Citers, laid before him a document, probably drawn up by some catholics of his court, in which these audacious speculations were developed, declared his indignation at so criminal a project. It was not even in his power, he let the prince afterwards know by a message, or in that of parliament, according to the principles which had been maintained in his own behalf, to change the fundamental order of succession to the Crown.[108] Nothing indeed can more forcibly paint the desperation of the popish faction than their entertainment of so preposterous a scheme. But it naturally increased the solicitude of William about the intrigues of the English cabinet. It does not appear that any direct overtures were made to the Prince of Orange, except by a very few malcontents, till the embassy of Dykvelt from the States in the spring of 1687. It was William's object to ascertain, through that minister, the real state of parties in England. Such assurances as he carried back to Holland gave encouragement to an enterprise that would have been equally injudicious and unwarrantable without them.[109] Danby, Halifax, Nottingham, and others of the tory, as well as whig factions, entered into a secret correspondence with the Prince of Orange; some from a real attachment to the constitutional limitations of monarchy; some from a conviction that, without open apostasy from the protestant faith, they could never obtain from James the prizes of their ambition. This must have been the predominant motive with Lord Churchill, who never gave any proof of solicitude about civil liberty; and his influence taught the Princess Anne to distinguish her interest from those of her father. It was about this time also that even Sunderland entered upon a mysterious communication with the Prince of Orange; but whether he afterwards served his present master only to betray him, as has been generally believed, or sought rather to propitiate, by clandestine professions, one who might in the course of events become such, is not perhaps what the evidence already known to the world will enable us to determine.[110] The apologists of James have often represented Sunderland's treachery as extending back to the commencement of this reign, as if he had entered upon the king's service with no other aim than to put him on measures that would naturally lead to his ruin. But the simpler hypothesis is probably nearer the truth: a corrupt and artful statesman could have no better prospect for his own advantage than the power and popularity of a government which he administered; it was a conviction of the king's incorrigible and infatuated adherence to designs which the rising spirit of the nation rendered utterly infeasible, an apprehension that, whenever a free parliament should be called, he might experience the fate of Strafford as an expiation for the sins of the Crown, which determined him to secure as far as possible his own indemnity upon a revolution that he could not have withstood.[111]