The standard of the queen was the Thirty-Nine Articles. She admitted that the Scriptures were the sole rule of faith, but declared that individuals must interpret Scripture as expounded in the articles and formularies of the English church, in violation of the great principle of Protestantism, which even the Puritans themselves did not fully recognize—the right and the duty of every individual to interpret Scripture himself, whether his interpretation interfered with the Established Church or not.

[Sidenote: Original Difficulties and Differences.]

The first dissenters did not claim this right, but only urged that certain points, about which they felt scruples, should be left as matters indifferent. On all essential points, they, as well as the strictest conformists, believed in the necessity of a uniformity of public worship, and of using the sword of the magistrate in defence of their doctrines. The standard of conformity, according to the bishops, was the queen's supremacy and the laws of the land; according to the Puritans, the decrees of provincial and national synods.

At first, many of the Puritans overcame their scruples so far as to comply with the required oath and accept livings in the Establishment. But they indulged in many irregularities, which, during the first year of the reign of Elizabeth, were winked at by the authorities. "Some performed," says an old author, "divine service in the chancel, others in the body of the church; some in a seat made in the church; some in a pulpit, with their faces to the people; some keeping precisely to the order of the book; some intermix psalms in metre; some say with a surplice, and others without one. The table stands in the body of the church in some places, in others it stands in the chancel; in some places the table stands altarwise, distant from the wall a yard, in others in the middle of the chancel, north and south. Some administer the communion with surplice and cap, some with a surplice alone, others with none; some with chalice, others with a communion cup, others with a common cup; some with unleavened bread, and some with leavened; some receive kneeling, others standing, others sitting; some baptize in a font, some in a basin; some sign with the sign of the cross, other sign not; some minister with a surplice, others without; some with a square cap, others with a round cap; some with a button cap, and some with a hat, some in scholar's clothes, some in common clothes."

These differences in public worship, which, by many, were considered as indifferent matters, and by others were unduly magnified, seem to have constituted the chief peculiarity of the early Puritans. In regard to the queen's supremacy, the union of church and state, the necessity of supporting religion by law, and articles of theological belief, there was no disagreement. Most of the non-conformists were men of learning and piety, and among the ornaments of the church.

The metropolitan bishop, at this time, was Parker, a great stickler for the forms of the church, and very intolerant in all his opinions. He and others of the bishops had been appointed as commissioners to investigate the causes of dissent, and to suspend all who refused to conform to the rubric of the church. Hence arose the famous Court of the Ecclesiastical Commission, so much abused during the reigns of James and Charles.

[Sidenote: Persecution during the Reign of Elizabeth.]

Under the direction of Parker, great numbers were suspended from their livings for non-conformity, and sent to wander in a state of destitution. Among these were some of the most learned men in the church. They had no means of defence or livelihood, and resorted to the press in order to vindicate their opinions. For this they were even more harshly dealt with; an order was issued from the Star Chamber, that no person should print a book against the queen's injunctions, upon the penalty of fines and imprisonment; and authority was given to church-wardens to search all suspected places where books might be concealed. Great multitudes suffered in consequence of these tyrannical laws.

But the non-conformists were further molested. They were forbidden to assemble together to read the Scriptures and pray, but were required to attend regularly the churches of the Establishment, on penalty of heavy fines for neglect.

At length, worried, disgusted, and irritated, they resolved upon setting up the Genevan service, and upon withdrawing entirely from the Church of England. The separation, once made, (1566,) became wider and wider, and the Puritans soon after opposed the claims of bishops as a superior order of the clergy. They were opposed to the temporal dignities annexed to the episcopal office to the titles and office of archdeacons, deans, and chapters; to the jurisdiction of spiritual courts; to the promiscuous access of all persons to the communion; to the liturgy; to the prohibition, in the public service of prayer, by the clergyman himself; to the use of godfathers and godmothers; to the custom of confirmation; to the cathedral worship and organs; to pluralities and non-residency; to the observance of Lent and of the holy days; and to the appointment of ministers by the crown, bishops, or lay patrons, instead of election by the people.

The schism was now complete, and had grown out of such small differences as refusing to bow at the name of Jesus, and to use the cross in baptism.

In our times, the Puritans would have been permitted to worship God in their own way, but they were not thus allowed in the time of Elizabeth. Religious toleration was not then understood or practised; and it was the fault of the age, since the Puritans themselves, when they obtained the power, persecuted with great severity the Quakers and the Catholics. But, during the whole reign of Elizabeth, especially the life of Archbishop Parker, they were in a minority, and suffered—as minorities ever have suffered—all the miseries which unreasonable majorities could inflict.

[Sidenote: Archbishops Grindal and Whitgift.]

Archbishop Grindal, who succeeded Parker in 1575, recommended milder measures to the queen; but she had no charity for those who denied the supremacy of her royal conscience.

Grindal was succeeded, in 1583, by Dr. Whitgift, the antagonist of the learned Dr. Cartwright, and he proved a ruler of the church according to her majesty's mind. He commenced a most violent crusade against the non-conformists, and was so harsh, cruel, and unreasonable, that Cecil—Lord Burleigh—was obliged to remonstrate, being much more enlightened than the prelate. "I have read over," said he, "your twenty-four articles, and I find them so curiously penned, that I think that the Spanish Inquisition used not so many questions to entrap the priests." Nevertheless fines, imprisonment, and the gibbet continued to do their work in the vain attempt to put down opinions, till within four or five years of the queen's death when there was a cessation of persecution.

[Sidenote: Persecution under James.]

[Sidenote: Puritans in Exile.]

But the Scottish Solomon, as James was called, renewed the severity which Elizabeth found it wise to remit. Hitherto, the Puritans had been chiefly Presbyterians; but now the Independents arose, who carried their views still further, even to wildness and radicalism. They were stricter Calvinists, and inclined to republican views of civil government. Consequently, they were still more odious than were the Presbyterians to an arbitrary government. They were now persecuted for their doctrines of faith, as well as for their forms of worship. The Church of England retained the thirty-nine articles; but many of her leading clergy sympathized with the views of Arminius, and among them was the primate himself. So strictly were Arminian doctrines cherished, that no person under a dean was permitted to discourse on predestination, election, reprobation, efficacy, or universality of God's grace. And the king himself would hear no doctrines preached, except those he had condemned at the synod of Dort. But this act was aimed against the Puritans, who, of all parties, were fond of preaching on what was called "the Five Points of Calvinism." But they paid dearly for their independence. James absolutely detested them, regarded them as a sect insufferable in a well-governed commonwealth, and punished them with the greatest severity. Their theological doctrines, their notions of church government, and, above all, their spirit of democratic liberty, were odious and repulsive. Archbishop Bancroft, who succeeded Whitgift in 1604, went beyond all his predecessors in bigotry, but had not their commanding intellects. His measures were so injudicious, so vexatious, so annoying, so severe, and so cruel, that the Puritans became, if possible, still more estranged. With the popular discontents, and with the progress of persecution, their numbers increased, both in Scotland and England. With the increase of Puritanism was also a corresponding change in the Church of England, since ceremony and forms increased almost to a revival of Catholicism. And this reaction towards Rome, favored by the court, incensed still more the Puritans, and led to language unnecessarily violent and abusive on their side. Their controversial tracts were pervaded with a spirit of bitterness and treason which, in the opinion of James, fully justified the imprisonments, fines, and mutilations which his minister inflicted. The Puritans, in despair, fled to Holland, and from thence to New England, to establish, amid its barren hills and desolate forests, that worship which alone they thought would be acceptable to God. Persecution elevated them, and none can deny that they were characterized by moral virtues and a spirit of liberty which no people ever before or since exhibited. Almost their only fault was intolerance respecting the opinions and pleasures of many good people who did not join their ranks.

James's death did not remit their sufferings; but, by this time, they had so multiplied that they became a party too formidable to be crushed. The High Commission Court and the Star Chamber still filled the prisons and pillories with victims; but every sentence of these courts fanned the flame of discontent, and hastened the catastrophe which was rapidly approaching. The volcano, over whose fearful brink the royal family and the haughty hierarchy were standing, was now sending forth those frightful noises which indicated approaching convulsions.

During the years that Charles dispensed with the parliaments, when Laud was both minister and archbishop, the persecution reached its height, and also popular discontent. During this period, the greatest emigration was made to New England, and even Hampden and Cromwell contemplated joining their brethren in America. Arianism and Popery advanced with Puritanism, and all parties prepared for the approaching contest. The advocates of royal usurpation became more unreasonable, the friends of popular liberty became more violent. Those who had the power, exercised it without reflection. The history of the times is simply this—despotism striving to put Puritanism and liberty beneath its feet, and Puritanism aiming to subvert the crown.

But the greatest commotions were in Scotland, where the people were generally Presbyterians; and it was the zeal of Archbishop Laud in suppressing these, and attempting to change the religion of the land, which precipitated the ruin of Charles I.

[Sidenote: Troubles in Scotland.]

Ever since the time of Knox, Scotland had been the scene of violent religious animosities. In that country, the reformation, from the first, had been a popular movement. It was so impetuous, and decided under the guidance of the uncompromising Knox, that even before the dethronement of Mary, it was complete. In the year 1592, through the influence of Andrew Melville, the Presbyterian government was fairly established, and King James is said to have thus expressed himself: "I praise God that I was born in the time of the light of the gospel, and in such a place as to be king of the purest kirk in the world." The Church of Scotland, however, had severe struggles from the period of its institution, 1560, to the year 1584, when the papal influence was finally destroyed by the expulsion of the earl of Arran from the councils of the young king. Nor did these struggles end even there. James, perceiving that Episcopacy was much more consonant with monarchy than Presbyterianism, attempted to remodel the Scottish church on the English basis, which attempt resulted in discontent and rebellion. James, however, succeeded in reducing to contempt the general assemblies of the Presbyterian church, and in confirming Archbishop Spotswood in the chief administration of ecclesiastical affairs, which, it must be confessed, were regulated with great prudence and moderation.

When Charles came to the throne, he complained of the laxity of the Scotch primate, and sent him a set of rules by which he was to regulate his conduct. Charles also added new dignities to his see, and ordained that he, as primate, should take precedence over all the temporal lords, which irritated the proud Scotch nobility. He moreover contemplated the recovery of tithes and church lands for the benefit of the Episcopal government, and the imposition of a liturgy on the Scotch nation, a great majority of whom were Presbyterians. This was the darling scheme of Laud, who believed that there could scarcely be salvation out of his church, and which church he strove to make as much like the Catholic as possible, and yet maintain independence of the pope. But nothing was absolutely done towards changing the religion of Scotland until Charles came down to Edinburgh (1633) to be crowned, when a liturgy was prepared for the Scotch nation, subjected to the revision of Laud, but which was not submitted to or seen by, the General Assembly, or any convocation of ministers in Scotland. Nothing could be more ill timed or ill judged than this conflict with the religious prejudices of a people zealously attached to their own forms of worship. The clergy united with the aristocracy, and both with the people, in denouncing the conduct of the king and his ministers as tyrannical and unjust. The canons, especially, which Laud had prepared, were, in the eyes of the Scotch, puerile and superstitious; they could not conceive why a Protestant prelate should make so much account of the position of the font or of the communion table, turned into an altar. Indeed, his liturgy was not much other than an English translation of the Roman Missal, and excited the detestation of all classes. Yet it was resolved to introduce it into the churches, and the day was fixed for its introduction, which was Easter Sunday, 1637. But such a ferment was produced, that the experiment was put off to Sunday, 23d of July. On that day, the archbishops and bishops, lords of session, and magistrates were all present, by command, in the Church of St. Giles. But no sooner had the dean opened the service book, and begun to read out of it, than the people, who had assembled in great crowds, began to fill the church with uproar. The bishop of Edinburgh, who was to preach, stepped into the pulpit, and attempted to appease the tumultuous people. But this increased the tumult, when an old woman, seizing a stool, hurled it at the bishop's head. Sticks, stones, and dirt followed the stool, with loud cries of "Down with the priest of Baal!" "A pape, a pape!" "Antichrist!" "Pull him down!" This was the beginning of the insurrection, which spread from city to village, until all Scotland was in arms, and Episcopacy, as an established religion, was subverted. In February, 1638, the covenant was drawn up in Edinburgh, and was subscribed to by all classes, in all parts of Scotland; and, in November, the General Assembly met in Glasgow, the first that had been called for twenty years, and Presbyterianism was reestablished in the kingdom, if not legally, yet in reality.

From the day on which the Convocation opened, until the conquest of the country by Cromwell, the Kirk reigned supreme, there being no power in the government, or in the country, able or disposed to resist or question its authority. This was the golden age of Presbyterianism, when the clergy enjoyed autocratic power —a sort of Druidical ascendency over the minds and consciences of the people, in affairs temporal as well as spiritual.

[Sidenote: Peculiarities of Puritanism in England.]

Puritanism did not pervade the English, as it did the Scotch mind, although it soon obtained an ascendency. Most of the great political chieftains who controlled the House of Commons, and who clamored for the death of Strafford and Laud, were Puritans. But they were not all Presbyterians. In England, after the flight of the king from Whitehall, the Independents attracted notice, and eventually seized the reins of government. Cromwell was an Independent.

The difference between these two sects was chiefly in their views about government, civil and ecclesiastical. Both Presbyterians and Independents were rigid Calvinists, practised a severe morality, were opposed to gay amusements, disliked organs and ceremonies, strictly observed the Sabbath, and attached great importance to the close observance of the Mosaic ritual. The Presbyterians were not behind the Episcopalians in hatred of sects and a free press. They had their model of worship, and declared it to be of divine origin. They looked upon schism as the parent of licentiousness, insisted on entire uniformity, maintained the divine right of the clergy to the management of ecclesiastical affairs, and claimed the sword of the magistrate to punish schismatics and heretics. They believed in the union of church and state, but would give the clergy the ascendency they possessed in the Middle Ages. They did not desire the entire prostration of royal authority, but only aimed to limit and curtail it.

The Independents wished a total disruption of church and state, and disliked synods almost as much as they did bishops. They believed that every congregation was a distinct church, and had a right to elect the pastor. They preferred the greatest variety of sects to the ascendency of any one, by means of the civil sword. They rejected all spiritual courts, and claimed the right of each church to reject, punish, or receive members. In politics, they wished a total overthrow of the government—monarchy, aristocracy, and prelacy; and were averse to any peace which did not secure complete toleration of opinions, and the complete subversion of the established order of things.

[Sidenote: Conflicts among the Puritans.]

Between the Presbyterians and the Independents, therefore, there could not be any lasting sympathy or alliance. They only united to crush the common foe; and, when Charles was beheaded, and Cromwell installed in power, they turned their arms against each other.

The great religious contest, after the rise of Cromwell, was not between the Puritans and the Episcopalians, but between the different sects of Puritans themselves. At first, the Independents harmonized with the Presbyterians. Their theological and ethical opinions were the same, and both cordially hated and despised the government of the Stuarts. But when the Presbyterians obtained the ascendency, the Independents were grieved and enraged to discover that religious toleration was stigmatized as the parent of all heresy and schism. While in power, the Presbyterians shackled the press, and their intolerance brought out John Milton's famous tract on the liberty of unlicensed printing—one of the most masterly arguments which the advocates of freedom have ever made. The idea that any dominant religious sect should be incorporated with the political power, was the fatal error of Presbyterianism, and raised up enemies against it, after the royal power was suppressed. Cromwell was persuaded that the cause of religious liberty would be lost unless Presbyterianism, as well as Episcopacy, was disconnected with the state; and hence one great reason of his assuming the dictatorship. And he granted a more extended toleration than had before been known in England, although it was not perfect. The Catholics and the Quakers were not partakers of the boon which he gave to his country; so hard is it for men to learn the rights of others, when they have power in their own hands.

[Sidenote: Character of the Puritans.]

The Restoration was a victory over both the Independents and the general swarm of sectaries which an age of unparalleled religious excitement had produced. It is difficult to conceive of the intensity of the passions which inflamed all parties of religious disputants. But if the Puritan contest developed fanatical zeal, it also brought out the highest qualities of mind and heart which any age has witnessed. With all the faults and weaknesses of the Puritans, there never lived a better class of men,—men of more elevated piety, more enlarged views, or greater disinterestedness, patriotism, and moral worth. They made sacrifices which our age can scarcely appreciate, and had difficulties to contend with which were unparalleled in the history of reform. They made blunders which approximated to crimes, but they made them in their inexperience and zeal to promote the cause of religion and liberty. They were conscientious men—men who acted from the fear of God, and with a view to promote the highest welfare of future generations. They launched their bark boldly upon an unknown sea, and heroically endured its dangers and sufferings, with a view of conferring immortal blessings on their children and country. More prudent men would have avoided the perils of an unknown navigation; but, by such men, a great experiment for humanity would not have been tried. It may have failed, but the world has learned immortal wisdom from the failure. But the Puritans were not mere adventurers or martyrs. They have done something of lasting benefit to mankind, and they have done this by the power of faith, and by loyalty to their consciences, perverted as they were in some respects. The Puritans were not agreeable companions to the idle, luxurious, or frivolous; they were rigid ever, to austerity; their expressions degenerated into cant, and they were hostile to many innocent amusements. But these were peculiarities which furnished subjects of ridicule merely, and did not disgrace or degrade them. These were a small offset to their moral wisdom, their firm endurance, their elevation of sentiment, their love of liberty, and their fear of God. Such are the men whom Providence ordains to give impulse to society, and effect great and useful reforms.

* * * * *

We now return to consider the changes which they attempted in government. The civil war, of which Cromwell was the hero, now claims our attention.

The refusal of the governor of Hull to admit the king was virtually the declaration of war, for which both parties had vigorously prepared.

The standard of the king was first raised in Nottingham, while the head-quarters of the parliamentarians were in London. The first action of any note was the battle of Edge Hill, (October 23, 1642,) but was undecisive. Indeed, both parties hesitated to plunge into desperate war, at least until, by skirmishings and military manoeuvres, they were better prepared for it.

The forces of the belligerents, at this period, were nearly equal but the parliamentarians had the ablest leaders. It was the misfortune of the king to have no man of commanding talents, as his counsellor, after the arrest of Strafford. Hyde, afterwards lord chancellor, and Earl of Clarendon, was the ablest of the royalist party. Falkland and Culpeper were also eminent men; but neither of them was the equal of Pym or Hampden.

[Sidenote: John Hampden.]

The latter was doubtless the ablest man in England at this time, and the only one who could have saved it from the evils which afterwards afflicted it. On him the hopes and affections of the nation centred. He was great in council and great in debate. He was the acknowledged leader of the House of Commons. He was eloquent, honest, unwearied, sagacious, and prudent. "Never had a man inspired a nation with greater confidence: the more moderate had faith in his wisdom; the more violent in his devoted patriotism; the more honest in his uprightness; the more intriguing in his talents." He spared neither his fortune nor his person, as soon as hostilities were inevitable. He subscribed two thousand pounds to the public cause, took a colonel's commission, and raised a regiment of infantry, so well known during the war for its green uniform, and the celebrated motto of its intrepid leader,—"Vestigia nulla retrorsum." He possessed the talents of a great statesman and a great general, and all the united qualities requisite for the crisis in which he appeared—"the valor and energy of Cromwell, the discernment and eloquence of Vane, the humanity and moderation of Manchester, the stern integrity of Hale, the ardent public spirit of Sydney. Others could conquer; he alone could reconcile. A heart as bold as his brought up the cuirassiers who turned the tide of battle on Marston Moor. As skilful an eye as his watched the Scottish army descending from the heights over Dunbar. But it was when, to the sullen tyranny of Laud and Charles, had succeeded the fierce conflict of sects and factions, ambitious of ascendency, and burning for revenge; it was when the vices and ignorance, which the old tyranny had generated, threatened the new freedom with destruction, that England missed that sobriety, that self-command, that perfect soundness of judgment, that perfect rectitude of intention, to which the history of revolutions furnishes no parallel, or furnishes a parallel in Washington alone."[1]

[Footnote 1: Macaulay.]

[Sidenote: Oliver Cromwell.]

This great man was removed by Providence from the scene of violence and faction at an early period of the contest. He was mortally wounded in one of those skirmishes in which the detachments of both armies had thus far engaged, and which made the campaigns of 1642-3 so undecided, so tedious, and so irritating—campaigns in which the generals of both armies reaped no laurels, and which created the necessity for a greater genius than had thus far appeared. That genius was Oliver Cromwell. At the battle of Edge Hill he was only captain of a troop of horse, and at the death of his cousin Hampden, he was only colonel. He was indeed a member of the Long Parliament, as was Hampden, and had secured the attention of the members in spite of his slovenly appearance and his incoherent, though earnest speeches. Under his rough and clownish exterior, his talents were not perceived, except by two or three penetrating intellects; but they were shortly to appear, and to be developed, not in the House of Commons, but on the field of battle. The rise of Oliver Cromwell can scarcely be dated until the death of John Hampden; nor were the eyes of the nation fixed on him, as their deliverer, until some time after. The Earl of Essex was still the commander of the forces, while the Earl of Bedford, Lord Manchester, Lord Fairfax, Skippon, Sir William Waller, Leslie, and others held high posts. Cromwell was still a subordinate; but genius breaks through all obstacles, and overleaps all boundaries. The time had not yet come for the exercise of his great military talents. The period of negotiation had not fully passed, and the king, at his head-quarters at Oxford, "that seat of pure, unspotted loyalty," still hoped to amuse the parliament, gain time, and finally overwhelm its forces. Prince Rupert—brave, ardent, reckless, unprincipled—still ravaged the country without reaping any permanent advantage. The parliament was perplexed and the people were disappointed. On the whole, the king's forces were in the ascendant, and were augmenting; while plots and insurrections were constantly revealing to the parliamentarians the dangers which threatened them. Had not an able leader, at this crisis, appeared among the insurgents, or had an able general been given to Charles, it is probable that the king would have secured his ends; for popular enthusiasm without the organization which a master spirit alone can form, soon burns itself out.

[Sidenote: The King at Oxford.]

The state of the contending parties, from the battle of Edge Hill, for nearly two years, was very singular and very complicated. The king remained at Oxford, distracted by opposing counsels, and perplexed by various difficulties. The head-quarters of his enemies, at London, were no less the seat of intrigues and party animosities. The Presbyterians were the most powerful, and were nearly as distrustful of the Independents as they were of the king, and feared a victory over the king nearly as much as they did a defeat by him, and the dissensions among the various sects and leaders were no secret in the royalist camp, and doubtless encouraged Charles in his endless intrigues and dissimulations. But he was not equal to decisive measures, and without them, in revolutionary times, any party must be ruined. While he was meditating and scheming, he heard the news of an alliance between Scotland and the parliament, in which the Presbyterian interest was in the ascendency. This was the first great blow he received since the commencement of the war, and the united forces of his enemies now resolved upon more vigorous measures.

At the opening of the campaign, the parliament had five armies—that of the Scots, of twenty-one thousand; that of Essex, ten thousand five hundred; that of Waller, five thousand one hundred; that of Manchester, fourteen thousand; and that of Fairfax, five thousand five hundred—in all, about fifty-six thousand men, of whom the committee of the two kingdoms had the entire disposal. In May, Essex and Waller invested Oxford, while Fairfax, Manchester, and the Scots met under the walls of York. Thus these two great royalist cities were attacked at once by all the forces of parliament. Charles, invested by a stronger force, and being deprived of the assistance of the princes, Rupert and Maurice, his nephews, who were absent on their marauding expeditions, escaped from Oxford, and proceeded towards Exeter. In the mean time, he ordered Prince Rupert to advance to the relief of York, which was defended by the marquis of Newcastle. The united royalist army now amounted to twenty-six thousand men, with a numerous and well appointed cavalry; and this great force obliged the armies of the parliament to raise the siege of York. Had Rupert been contented with this success, and intrenched himself in the strongest city of the north of England, he and Newcastle might have maintained their ground; but Rupert, against the advice of Newcastle, resolved on an engagement with the parliamentary generals, who had retreated to Marston Moor, on the banks of the Ouse, five miles from the city.

The next day after the relief of York was fought the famous battle of Marston Moor, (July 2, 1644,) the bloodiest in the war, which resulted in the entire discomfiture of the royalist forces, and the ruin of the royal interests at the north. York was captured in a few days. Rupert retreated to Lancashire to recruit his army, and Newcastle, disgusted with Rupert, and with the turn affairs had taken, withdrew beyond seas. The Scots soon stormed the town of Newcastle, and the whole north of England fell into the hands of the victors.

[Sidenote: Cromwell after the Battle.]

[Sidenote: Enthusiasm of the Independents.]

This great battle was decided by the ability of Cromwell, now lieutenant-general in the army of the parliament. He had distinguished himself in all subordinate stations, in the field of battle, in raising forces, and in councils of war, for which he had been promoted to serve as second under the Earl of Manchester. But his remarkable military genius was not apparent to the parliament until the battle of Marston Moor, and on him the eyes of the nation now began to be centred. He was now forty-five years of age, in the vigor of his manhood, burning with religious enthusiasm, and eager to deliver his country from the tyranny of Charles I., and of all kings. He was an Independent and a radical, opposed to the Episcopalians, to the Presbyterians, to the Scots, to all moderate men, to all moderate measures, to all jurisdiction in matters of religion, and to all authority in political affairs, which did not directly emanate from the people, who were called upon to regulate themselves by their individual reason. He was the idol of the Independent party, which now began to gain the ascendency in that stormy crisis. For three years, the Presbyterians had been in the ascendant, but had not realized the hopes or expectations of the enthusiastic advocates of freedom. By turns imperious and wavering, fanatical and moderate, they sought to curtail and humble the king, not to ruin him; to depress Episcopacy, but to establish another religion by the sword of the magistrate. Their leaders were timid, insincere, and disunited; few among them had definite views respecting the future government of the realm: and they gradually lost the confidence of the nation. But the Independents reposed fearlessly on the greatness and grandeur of their abstract principles, and pronounced, without a scruple, those potent words which kindled a popular enthusiasm—equality of rights, the just distribution of property, and the removal of all abuses. Above all, they were enthusiasts in religion, as well as in liberty, and devoutly attached to the doctrines of Calvin. They abominated all pleasures and pursuits which diverted their minds from the contemplation of God, or the reality of a future state. Cromwell himself lived in the ecstasy of religious excitement. His language was the language of the Bible, and its solemn truths were not dogmas, but convictions to his ardent mind. In the ardor of his zeal and the frenzy of his hopes, he fondly fancied that the people of England were to rise in simultaneous confederation, shake off all the old shackles of priests and kings, and be governed in all their actions, by the principles of the Bible. A sort of Jewish theocracy was to be restored on earth, and he was to be the organ of the divine will, as was Joshua of old, when he led the Israelites against the pagan inhabitants of the promised land. Up to this time, no inconsistencies disgraced him. His prayers and his exhortations were in accordance with his actions, and the most scrutinizing malignity could attribute nothing to him but sincerity and ardor in the cause which he had so warmly espoused. As magistrate, as member of parliament, as farmer, or as general, he slighted no religious duties, and was devoted to the apparent interests of England. Such a man, so fervent, enthusiastic, honest, patriotic, and able, of course was pointed out as a future leader, especially when his great military talents were observed at Marston Moor. From the memorable 2d of July he became the most marked and influential man in England. Hampden had offered up his life as a martyr, and Pym, the great lawyer and statesman, had died from exhaustion. Essex had won no victory commensurate with the public expectations, and Waller lost his army by desertions and indecisive measures. Both Essex and Manchester, with their large estates, their aristocratic connections, and their Presbyterian sympathies, were afraid of treating the king too well. The battle of Newbury, which shortly after was gained by the parliamentarians, was without decisive results, in consequence of the indecision of Manchester. The parliament and the nation looked for another leader, who would pursue his advantages, and adopt more vigorous measures. At this point, the Presbyterians would have made peace with the king, who still continued his insincere negotiations; but it was too late. The Independents had gained the ascendency, and their voice was for war—no more dallying, no more treaties, no more half measures, but uncompromising war. It was plain that either the king or the Independents must be the absolute rulers of England.

Then was passed (April 3, 1645) the famous Self-Denying Ordinance, by which all members of parliament were excluded from command in the army, an act designed to get rid of Essex and Manchester, and prepare the way for the elevation of Cromwell. Sir Thomas Fairfax was appointed to the supreme command, and Cromwell was despatched into the inland counties to raise recruits. But it was soon obvious that the army could do nothing without him, although it was remodelled and reenforced; and even Fairfax and his officers petitioned parliament that Cromwell might be appointed lieutenant-general again, and commander-in-chief of the horse; which request was granted, and Cromwell rejoined the army, of which he was its hope and idol.

[Sidenote: Battle of Naseby.]

He joined it in time to win the most decisive battle of the war, the battle of Naseby, June 14, 1645. The forces of both armies were nearly balanced, and the royalists were commanded by the king in person, assisted by his ablest generals. But the rout of the king's forces was complete, his fortunes were prostrated, and he was driven, with the remnants of his army, from one part of the kingdom to the other, while the victorious parliamentarians were filled with exultation and joy. Cromwell, however, was modest and composed, and ascribed the victory to the God of battles, whose servant, he fancied, he preeminently was.

[Sidenote: Success of the Parliamentary Army.]

The parliamentary army continued its successes. Montrose gained the battle of Alford; Bridgewater surrendered to Fairfax; Glasgow and Edinburgh surrendered to Montrose; Prince Rupert was driven from Bristol, and, as the king thought, most disgracefully, which misfortune gave new joy to the parliament, and caused new thanksgivings from Cromwell, who gained the victory. From Bristol, the army turned southward, and encountered what royalist force there was in that quarter, stormed Bridgewater, drove the royalist generals into Cornwall, took Winchester, battered down Basing House, rich in provisions, ammunition, and silver plate, and completely prostrated all the hopes of the king in the south of England. Charles fled from Oxford, secretly, to join the Scottish army.

By the 24th of June, 1646, all the garrisons of England and Wales, except those in the north, were in the hands of the parliament. In July, the parliament sent their final propositions to the king at Newcastle, which were extremely humiliating, and which he rejected. Negotiations were then entered into between the parliament and the Scots, which were long protracted, but which finally ended in an agreement, by the Scots, to surrender the king to the parliament, for the payment of their dues. They accordingly marched home with an instalment of two hundred thousand pounds, and the king was given up, not to the Independents, but to the Commissioners of parliament, in which body the Presbyterian interest predominated.

At this juncture, (January, 1647,) Cromwell, rather than the king, was in danger of losing his head. The Presbyterians, who did not wish to abolish royalty, but establish uniformity with their mode of worship, began to be extremely jealous of the Independents, who were bent on more complete toleration of opinions, and who aimed at a total overthrow of many of the old institutions of the country. So soon as the king was humbled, and in their hands, it was proposed to disband the army which had gloriously finished the war, and which was chiefly composed of the Independents, and to create a new one on a Presbyterian model. The excuse was, that the contest was ended, while, indeed, the royalists were rather dispersed and humbled, than subdued. It was voted that, in the reduced army, no one should have, except Fairfax, a higher rank than colonel, a measure aimed directly at Cromwell, now both feared and distrusted by the Presbyterians. But the army refused to be disbanded without payment of its arrears, and, moreover, marched upon London, in spite of the vote of the parliament that it should not come within twenty-five miles. Several irritating resolutions were passed by the parliament, which only had the effect of uniting the army more strongly together, in resistance against parliament, as well as against the king. The Lords and Commons then voted that the king should be brought nearer London, and new negotiations opened with him, which were prevented from being carried into effect by the seizure of the king at Holmby House, by Cornet Joyce, with a strong party of horse belonging to Whalley's regiment, probably at the instigation of Cromwell and Ireton. His majesty was now in the hands of the army, his worst enemy, and, though treated with respect and deference, was really guarded closely, and watched by the Independent generals. The same day, Cromwell left London in haste, and joined the army, knowing full well that he was in imminent danger of arrest. He was cordially received, and forthwith the army resolved not to disband until all the national grievances were redressed, thus setting itself up virtually against all the constituted authorities. Fairfax, Cromwell, Ireton, and Hammond, with other high officers, then waited on the king, and protested that they had nothing to do with the seizure of his person, and even invited him to return to Holmby House. But the king never liked the Presbyterians, and was willing to remain with the army instead, especially since he was permitted to have Episcopal chaplains, and to see whomsoever he pleased.

[Sidenote: Seizure of the King.]

The generals of the army were not content with the seizure of his majesty's person, but now caused eleven of the most obnoxious of the Presbyterian leaders of parliament to be accused, upon which they hid themselves, while the army advanced towards London. The parliament, at first, made a show of resistance, but soon abandoned its course, and now voted that the army should be treated with more respect and care. It was evident now to all persons where the seat of power rested.

In the mean time, the king was removed from Newmarket to Kingston, from Hatfield to Woburn Abbey, and thence to Windsor Castle, which was the scene of new intrigues and negotiations on his part, and on the part of parliament, and even on the part of Cromwell. This was the last chance the king had. Had he cordially sided now with either the Presbyterians or the Independents, his subsequent misfortunes might have been averted. But he hated both parties, and trifled with both, and hoped to conquer both. He was unable to see the crisis of his affairs, or to adapt himself to it. He was incapable of fair dealing with any party. His duplicity and dissimulation were fully made known to Cromwell and Ireton by a letter of the king to his wife, which they intercepted; and they made up their minds to more decided courses. The king was more closely guarded; the army marched to the immediate vicinity of London; a committee of safety was named, and parliament was intimidated into the passing of a resolution, by which the city of London and the Tower were intrusted to Fairfax and Cromwell. The Presbyterian party was forever depressed, its leading members fled to France, and the army had every thing after its own way. Parliament still was ostensibly the supreme power in the land; but it was entirely controlled by the Independent leaders and generals.

[Sidenote: Triumph of the Independents.]

The victorious Independents then made their celebrated proposals to the king, as the Presbyterians had done before them; only the conditions which the former imposed were more liberal, and would have granted to the king powers almost as great as are now exercised by the sovereign. But he would not accept them, and continued to play his game of kingcraft.

Shortly after, the king contrived to escape from Windsor to the Isle of Wight, with the connivance of Cromwell. At Carisbrook Castle, where he quartered himself, he was more closely guarded than before. Seeing this, he renewed his negotiations with the Scots, and attempted to escape. But escape was impossible. He was now in the hands of men who aimed at his life. A strong party in the army, called the Levellers, openly advocated his execution, and the establishment of a republic; and parliament itself resolved to have no further treaty with him. His only hope was now from the Scots, and they prepared to rescue him.

Although the government of the country was now virtually in the hands of the Independents and of the army, the state of affairs was extremely critical, and none other than Cromwell could have extricated the dominant party from the difficulties. In one quarter was an imprisoned and intriguing king in league with the Scots, while the royalist party was waiting for the first reverse to rise up again with new strength in various parts of the land. Indeed, there were several insurrections, which required all the vigor of Cromwell to suppress. The city of London, which held the purse-strings, was at heart Presbyterian, and was extremely dissatisfied with the course affairs were taking. Then, again, there was a large, headstrong, levelling, mutineer party in the army, which clamored for violent courses, which at that time would have ruined every thing. Finally, the Scotch parliament had voted to raise a force of forty thousand men, to invade England and rescue the king. Cromwell, before he could settle the peace of the country, must overcome all these difficulties. Who, but he, could have triumphed over so many obstacles, and such apparent anarchy?

The first thing Cromwell did was to restore order in England; and therefore he obtained leave to march against the rebels, who had arisen in various parts of the country. Scarcely were these subdued, before he heard of the advance of the Scottish army, under the Duke of Hamilton. A second civil war now commenced, and all parties witnessed the result with fearful anxiety.

The army of Hamilton was not as large as he had hoped. Still he had fifteen thousand men, and crossed the borders, while Cromwell was besieging Pembroke, in a distant part of the kingdom. But Pembroke soon surrendered; and Cromwell advanced, by rapid marches, against the Scottish army, more than twice as large as his own. The hostile forces met in Lancashire. Hamilton was successively defeated at Preston, Wigan, and Warrington. Hamilton was taken prisoner at Uttoxeter, August 25, 1648, and his invading army was completely annihilated.

[Sidenote: Cromwell Invades Scotland.]

Cromwell then resolved to invade, in his turn, Scotland itself, and, by a series of military actions, to give to the army a still greater ascendency. He was welcomed at Edinburgh by the Duke of Argyle, the head of an opposing faction, and was styled "the Preserver of Scotland." That country was indeed rent with most unhappy divisions, which Lieutenant-General Cromwell remedied in the best way he could; and then he rapidly retraced his steps, to compose greater difficulties at home. In his absence, the Presbyterians had rallied, and were again negotiating with the king on the Isle of Wight, while Cromwell was openly denounced in the House of Lords as ambitious, treacherous, and perfidious. Fairfax, his superior in command, but inferior in influence, was subduing the rebel royalists, who made a firm resistance at Colchester, and all the various parties were sending their remonstrances to parliament.

Among these was a remarkable one from the regiments of Ireton, Ingoldsby, Fleetwood, Whalley, and Overton, which imputed to parliament the neglect of the affairs of the realm, called upon it to proclaim the sovereignty of the people and the election of a supreme magistrate, and threatened to take matters into their own hands. This was in November, 1646; but, long before this, a republican government was contemplated, although the leaders of the army had not joined in with the hue and cry which the fanatical Levellers had made.

[Sidenote: Seizure of the King a Second Time.]

In the midst of the storm which the petition from the army had raised, the news arrived that the king had been seized a second time, and had been carried a prisoner to Hurst Castle, on the coast opposite the island, where he was closely confined by command of the army. Parliament was justly indignant, and the debate relative to peace was resumed with redoubled earnestness. It is probable that, at this crisis, so irritated was parliament against the army, peace would have been made with the king, and the Independent party suppressed, had not most decisive measures been taken by the army. A rupture between the parliament and the army was inevitable. But Cromwell and the army chiefs had resolved upon their courses. The mighty stream of revolution could no longer be checked. Twenty thousand men had vowed that parliament should be purged. On the morning of December 6, Colonel Pride and Colonel Rich, with troops, surrounded the House of Commons; and, as the members were going into the house, the most obnoxious were seized and sent to prison, among whom were Primrose, who had lost his ears in his contest against the crown, Waller, Harley, Walker, and various other men, who had distinguished themselves as advocates of constitutional liberty. None now remained in the House of Commons but some forty Independents, who were the tools of the army, and who voted to Cromwell their hearty thanks. "The minority had now become a majority,"—which is not unusual in revolutionary times,—and proceeded to the work, in good earnest, which he had long contemplated.

[Sidenote: Trial of the King.]

This was the trial of the king, whose apartments at Whitehall were now occupied by his victorious general, and whose treasures were now lavished on his triumphant soldiers.

On the 17th of December, 1648, in the middle of the night, the drawbridge of the Castle of Hurst was lowered, and a troop of horse entered the yard. Two days after, the king was removed to Windsor. On the 23d, the Commons voted that he should be brought to trial. On the 20th of January, Charles Stuart, King of England, was brought before the Court of High Commission, in Westminster Hall, and placed at the bar, to be tried by this self-constituted body for his life. In the indictment, he was charged with being a tyrant, traitor, and murderer. To such an indictment, and before such a body, the dignified but unfortunate successor of William the Conqueror demurred. He refused to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the court. But the solemn mockery of the trial proceeded nevertheless, and on the 27th, sentence of death was pronounced upon the prisoner—that prisoner the King of England, a few years before the absolute ruler of the state. On January 30, the bloody sentence was executed, and the soul of the murdered king ascended to that God who pardons those who put their trust in him, in spite of all their mistakes, errors, and delusions. The career of Charles I. is the most melancholy in English history. That he was tyrannical, that he disregarded the laws by which he swore to rule, that he was narrow, and bigoted, that he was deceitful in his promises, that he was bent on overturning the liberties of England, and did not comprehend the wants and circumstances of his times, can scarcely be questioned. But that he was sincere in his religion, upright in his private life, of respectable talents, and good intentions, must also be admitted. His execution, or rather his martyrdom, made a deep and melancholy impression in all Christian countries, and was the great blunder which the republicans made—a blunder which Hampden would have avoided. His death, however, removed from England a most dangerous intriguer, and, for a while, cemented the power of Cromwell and his party, who now had undisputed ascendency in the government of the realm. Charles's exactions and tyranny provoked the resistance of parliament, and the indignation of the people, then intensely excited in discussing the abstract principles of civil and religious liberty. The resistance of parliament created the necessity of an army, and the indignation of the people filled it with enthusiasts. The army flushed with success, forgot its relations and duties, and usurped the government it had destroyed, and a military dictatorship, the almost inevitable result of revolution, though under the name of a republic, succeeded to the despotism of the Stuart kings. This republic, therefore, next claims attention.

* * * * *

REFERENCES.—The standard Histories of England. Guizot's History of the English Revolution. Clarendon's History of the Rebellion. Forster's Life of the Statesmen of the Commonwealth. Neal's History of the Puritans. Macaulay's Essays. Lives of Bacon, Raleigh, Strafford, Laud, Hampden, and Cromwell. These works furnish all the common information. Few American students have the opportunity to investigate Thurlow's State Papers, or Rushworth, Whitelocke, Dugdale, or Mrs. Hutchinson.



CHAPTER XIII.

PROTECTORATE OF OLIVER CROMWELL.

[Sidenote: The Protectorate.]

On the day of the king's execution, January 30, 1649, the House of Commons—being but the shadow of a House of Commons, yet ostensibly the supreme authority in England—passed an act prohibiting the proclamation of the Prince of Wales, or any other person, to be king of England. On the 6th of February, the House of Peers was decreed useless and dangerous, and was also dispensed with. On the next day, royalty was formally abolished. The supreme executive power was vested in a council of state of forty members, the president of which was Bradshaw, the relative and friend of Milton, who employed his immortal genius in advocating the new government. The army remained under the command of Fairfax and Cromwell; the navy was controlled by a board of admiralty, headed by Sir Harry Vane. A greater toleration of religion was proclaimed than had ever been known before, much to the annoyance of the Presbyterians, who were additionally vexed that the state was separated entirely from the church.

The Independents pursued their victory with considerable moderation, and only the Duke of Hamilton, and Lords Holland and Capel, were executed for treason, while a few others were shut up in the Tower. Never was so mighty a revolution accomplished with so little bloodshed. But it required all the wisdom and vigor of Fairfax and Cromwell to repress the ultra radical spirit which had crept into several detachments of the army, and to baffle the movements which the Scots were making in favor of Charles Stuart, who had already been proclaimed king by the parliament of Scotland, and in Ireland by the Marquis of Ormond.

[Sidenote: Storming of Drogheda and Wexford.]

The insurrection in Ireland first required the notice of the new English government. Cromwell accepted the conduct of the war, and the office of lord lieutenant. Dublin and Derry were the only places which held out for the parliament. All other parts of the country were in a state of insurrection. On the 15th of August, Cromwell and his son-in-law, Ireton, landed near Dublin with an army of six thousand foot and three thousand horse only; but it was an army of Ironsides and Titans. In six months, the complete reconquest of the country was effected. The policy of the conqueror was severe and questionable; but it was successful. In the hope of bringing the war to a speedy termination, Cromwell proceeded in such a way as to bring terror to his name, and curses on his memory. Drogheda and Wexford were not only taken by storm, but nearly the whole garrison, of more than five thousand men, were barbarously put to the sword. The Irish quailed before such a victor, and town after town hastened to make peace. Cromwell's excuse for his undeniable cruelties was, the necessity of the case, of which we may reasonably suppose him to be a judge. Scotland was in array, and English affairs, scarcely settled, demanded his presence in London. An imperfect conquest, on the principles of Rousseau's philanthropy, did not suit the taste or the notions of Cromwell. If he had consumed a few more months than he actually employed, either in treaty-making with a deceitful though oppressed people, or in battles on the principles of the military science then in vogue, the cause of Independency would have been lost; and that cause, associated with that of liberty, in the eyes of Cromwell, was of more value than the whole Irish nation, or any other nation. Cromwell was a devotee to a cause. Principles, with him, were every thing; men were nothing in comparison. To advance the principles for which he fought, he scrupled to use no means or instruments. In this he may have erred. But this policy was the secret of his success. We cannot justify his cruelties in war, because it is hard to justify the war itself. But if we acknowledge its necessity, we should remember that such a master of war as was Cromwell knew his circumstances better than we do or can know. To his immortal glory it can be said that he never inflicted cruelty when he deemed it unnecessary; that he never fought for the love of fighting; and that he stopped fighting when the cause for which he fought was won. And this is more than can be said of most conquerors, even of those imbued with sentimental horror of bloodshed. Our world is full of cant. Cromwell's language sometimes sounds like it, especially when he speaks of the "hand of the Lord" in "these mighty changes," who "breaketh the enemies of his church in pieces."

When the conquest of Ireland was completed, Cromwell hastened to London to receive the thanks of parliament and the acclamations of the people; and then he hurried to Scotland to do battle with the Scots, who had made a treaty with the king, and were resolved to establish Presbyterianism and royalty. Cromwell now superseded Fairfax, and was created captain-general of the forces of the commonwealth. Cromwell passed the borders, reached Edinburgh without molestation, and then advanced on the Scotch army of twenty-seven thousand men, under Lesley, at Dunbar, where was fought a most desperate battle, but which Cromwell gained with marvellous intrepidity and skill. Three thousand men were killed, and ten thousand taken prisoners, and the hopes of the Scots blasted. The lord-general made a halt, and the whole army sang the one hundred and seventeenth psalm, and then advanced upon the capital, which opened its gates. Glasgow followed the example; the whole south of Scotland submitted; while the king fled towards the Highlands, but soon rallied, and even took the bold resolution of marching into England, while Cromwell was besieging Perth. Charles reached Worcester before he was overtaken, established himself with sixteen thousand men, but was attacked by Cromwell, was defeated, and with difficulty fled. He reached France, however, and quietly rested until he was brought back by General Monk.

[Sidenote: Battle of Worcester.]

With the battle of Worcester, September 3, 1651, which Cromwell called his "crowning mercy," ended his military life. From that day to the time when be became protector, the most noticeable point in his history is his conduct towards the parliament. And this conduct is the most objectionable part of his life and character; for in this he violated the very principles he originally professed, and committed the same usurpations which he condemned in Charles I. Here he was not true to himself or his cause. Here he laid himself open to the censure of all posterity; and although he had great excuses, and his course has many palliations, still it would seem a mockery of all moral distinctions not to condemn in him what we would condemn in another, or what Cromwell himself condemned in the murdered king. It is true he did not, at once, turn usurper, not until circumstances seemed to warrant the usurpation—the utter impossibility of governing England, except by exercising the rights and privileges of an absolute monarch. On the principles of expediency, he has been vindicated, and will be vindicated, so long as his cause is advocated by partisan historians, or expediency itself is advocated as a rule of life.

[Sidenote: Policy of Cromwell.]

After the battle of Worcester, Cromwell lost, in a measure, his democratic sympathies, and naturally, in view of the great excesses of the party with which he had been identified. That he desired the public good we cannot reasonably doubt; and he adapted himself to those circumstances which seemed to advance it, and which a spirit of wild democratic license assuredly did not. So far as it contributed to overturn the throne of the Stuarts, and the whole system of public abuses, civil and ecclesiastical, Cromwell favored it. But no further. When it seemed subversive of law and order, the grand ends of all civil governments, then he opposed it. And in this he showed that he was much more conservative in his spirit than has often been supposed; and, in this conservatism he resembled Luther and other great reformers, who were not unreflecting incendiaries, as is sometimes thought—men who destroy, but do not reconstruct. Luther, at heart, was a conservative, and never sought a change to which he was not led by strong inward tempests—forced to make it by the voice of his conscience, which he ever obeyed, and loyalty to which so remarkably characterized the early reformers, and no class of men more than the Puritans. Cromwell abhorred the government of Charles, because it was not a government which respected justice, and which set at defiance the higher laws of God. It was not because Charles violated the constitution, it was because he violated truth and equity, and the nation's good, that he opposed him. Cromwell usurped his prerogatives, and violated the English constitution; but he did not transgress those great primal principles of truth, for which constitutions are made. He looked beyond constitutions to abstract laws of justice; and it never can be laid to his charge that he slighted these, or proved a weak or wicked ruler. He quarrelled with parliament, because the parliament wished to perpetuate its existence unlawfully and meanly, and was moreover unwilling and unable to cope with many difficulties which constantly arose. It may be supposed that Cromwell may thus have thought: "I will not support the parliament, for it will not maintain law; it will not legislate wisely or beneficently; it seeks its own, not the nation's good. And therefore I take away its existence, and rule myself; for I have the fear of God before my eyes, and am determined to rule by his laws, and to advance his glory." Deluded he was; blinded by ambition he may have been but he sought to elevate his country; and his efforts in her behalf are appreciated and praised by the very men who are most severe on his undoubted usurpation.

[Sidenote: The Rump Parliament.]

[Sidenote: Dispersion of the Parliament.]

Shortly after the Long Parliament was purged, at the instigation of Cromwell, and had become the Rump Parliament, as it was derisively called, it appointed a committee to take into consideration the time when their powers should cease. But the battle of Worcester was fought before any thing was done, except to determine that future parliaments should consist of four hundred members, and that the existing members should be returned, in the next parliament, for the places they then represented. At length, in December, 1651, it was decided, through the urgent entreaties of Cromwell, but only by a small majority, that the present parliament should cease in November, 1654. Thus it was obvious to Cromwell that the parliament, reduced as it was, and composed of Independents, was jealous of him, and also was aiming to perpetuate its own existence, against all the principles of a representative government. Such are men, so greedy of power themselves, so censorious in regard to the violation of justice by others, so blind to the violation of justice by themselves. Cromwell was not the man to permit the usurpation of power by a body of forty or sixty Independents, however willing he was to assume it himself. Beside, the Rump Parliament was inefficient, and did not consult the interests of the country. There was general complaint. But none complained more bitterly than Cromwell himself. Meeting Whitelock, who then held the great seal, he said that the "army was beginning to have a strange distaste against them; that their pride, and ambition, and self-seeking; their engrossing all places of honor and profit to themselves and their friends; their daily breaking into new and violent parties; their delays of business, and design to perpetuate themselves, and continue the power in their own hands; their meddling in private matters between party and party, their injustice and partiality; the scandalous lives of some of them, do give too much ground for people to open their mouths against them; and unless there be some power to check them, it will be impossible to prevent our ruin." These things Whitelock admitted, but did not see how they could be removed since both he and Cromwell held their commissions from this same parliament, which was the supreme authority. But Cromwell thought there was nothing to hope, and every thing to fear, from such a body of men; that they would destroy what the Lord had done. "We all forget God," said he, "and God will forget us. He will give us up to confusion, and these men will help it on, if left to themselves." Then he asked the great lawyer and chancellor, "What if a man should take upon himself to be king?"—evidently having in view the regal power. But Whitelock presented such powerful reasons against it, that Cromwell gave up the idea, though he was resolved to destroy the parliament. He then held repeated conferences with the officers of the army, who sympathized with him, and who supported him. At last, while parliament was about to pass an obnoxious bill, Cromwell hurried to the House, taking with him a file of musketeers, having resolved what he would do. These he left in the lobby, and, taking his seat, listened a while to the discussion, and then rose, and addressed the House. Waxing warm, he told them, in violent language, "that they were deniers of justice, were oppressive, profane men, were planning to bring in Presbyterians, and would lose no time in destroying the cause they had deserted." Sir Harry Vane and Sir Peter Wentworth rose to remonstrate, but Cromwell, leaving his seat, walked up and down the floor, with his hat on, reproached the different members, who again remonstrated. But Cromwell, raising his voice, exclaimed, "You are no parliament. Get you gone. Give way to honester men." Then, stamping with his feet, the door opened, and the musketeers entered, and the members were dispersed, after giving vent to their feelings in the language of reproach. Most of them wore swords, but none offered resistance to the man they feared, and tamely departed.

Thus was the constitution utterly subverted, and parliament, as well as the throne, destroyed. Cromwell published, the next day, a vindication of his conduct, setting forth the incapacity, selfishness and corruption of the parliament, in which were some of the best men England ever had, including Sir Harry Vane, Algernon Sydney, and Sir Peter Wentworth.

His next step was to order the continuance of all the courts of justice, as before, and summon a new parliament, the members of which were nominated by himself and his council of officers. The army, with Cromwell at the head, was now the supreme authority.

The new parliament, composed of one hundred and twenty persons, assembled on the 4th of July, when Cromwell explained the reason of his conduct, and set forth the mercies of the Lord to England. This parliament was not constitutional, since it was not elected by the people of England, but by Cromwell, and therefore would be likely to be his tool. But had the elections been left free, the Presbyterians would have been returned as the largest party, and they would have ruined the cause which Cromwell and the Independents sought to support. In revolutions, there cannot be pursued half measures. Revolutions are the contest between parties. The strongest party gains the ascendency, and keeps it if it can—never by old, constituted laws. In the English Revolution the Independents gained this ascendency by their valor, enthusiasm, and wisdom. And their great representative ruled in their name.

[Sidenote: Cromwell Assumes the Protectorship.]

The new members of parliament reappointed the old Council of State, at the head of which was Cromwell, abolished the High Court of Chancery, nominated commissioners to preside in courts of justice, and proceeded to other sweeping changes, which alarmed their great nominator, who induced them to dissolve themselves and surrender their trust into his hands, under the title of Lord Protector of England, Scotland, and Ireland. On the 16th of December, he was installed in his great office, with considerable pomp, in the Court of Chancery, and the new constitution was read, which invested him with all the powers of a king. It, however, ordained that he should rule with the aid of a parliament, which should have all the functions and powers of the old parliaments, should be assembled within five months, should last three years, and should consist of four hundred and sixty members. It provided for the maintenance of the army and navy, of which the protector was the head, and decided that the great officers of state should be chosen by approbation of parliament. Religious toleration was proclaimed, and provision made for the support of the clergy.

[Sidenote: The Dutch War.]

Thus was the constitution of the nation changed, and a republic substituted for a monarchy, at the head of which was the ablest man of his age. And there was need of all his abilities. England then was engaged in war with the Dutch, and the internal state of the nation demanded the attention of a vigorous mind and a still more vigorous arm.

The Dutch war was prosecuted with great vigor, and was signalized by the naval victories of Blake, Dean, and Monk over the celebrated Van Tromp and De Ruyter, the Dutch admirals. The war was caused by the commercial jealousies of the two nations, and by the unwillingness of the Prince of Orange, who had married a daughter of Charles I., to acknowledge the ambassador of the new English republic. But the superiority which the English sailors evinced, soon taught the Dutch how dangerous it was to provoke a nation which should be its ally on all grounds of national policy, and peace was therefore honorably secured after a most successful war.

The war being ended, the protector had more leisure to attend to business at home. Sir Matthew Hale was made chief justice, and Thurloe, secretary of state; disorganizers were punished; an insurrection in Scotland was quelled by General Monk; and order and law were restored.

Meanwhile, the new parliament, the first which had been freely elected for fourteen years, soon manifested a spirit of opposition to Cromwell, deferred to vote him supplies, and annoyed him all in its power. Still he permitted the members to discuss trifling subjects and waste their time for five months; but, at the earliest time the new constitution would allow, he summoned them to the Painted Chamber, made them a long speech, reminded them of their neglect in attending to the interests of the nation, while disputing about abstract questions, even while it was beset with dangers and difficulties, and then dissolved them, (January 22, 1656.)

[Sidenote: Cromwell Rules without a Parliament.]

For the next eighteen months, he ruled without a parliament and found no difficulty in raising supplies, and supporting his now unlimited power. During this time, he suppressed a dangerous insurrection in England itself, and carried on a successful and brilliant war against Spain, a power which he hated with all the capacity of hatred of which his nation has shown itself occasionally so capable. In the naval war with Spain, Blake was again the hero. During the contest the rich island of Jamaica was conquered from the Spanish, a possession which England has ever since greatly valued.

Encouraged by his successes, Cromwell now called a third parliament, which he opened the 17th of September, 1656, after ejecting one hundred of the members, on account of their political sentiments. The new House voted for the prosecution of the Spanish war, granted ample supplies, and offered to Cromwell the title of king. But his council violently opposed it, and Cromwell found it expedient to relinquish this object of his heart. But his protectorate was continued to him, and he was empowered to nominate his successor.

In a short time, however, the spirit of the new parliament was manifested, not only by violent opposition to the protector, but in acts which would, if carried out, have subverted the government again, and have plunged England in anarchy. It was plain that the protector could not rule with a real representation of the nation. So he dissolved it; and thus ended the last effort of Cromwell to rule with a parliament; or, as his advocates say, to restore the constitution of his country. It was plain that there was too much party animosity and party ambition to permit the protector, shackled by the law, to carry out his designs of order and good government. Self-preservation compelled him to be suspicious and despotic, and also to prohibit the exercise of the Catholic worship, and to curtail the religious rights of the Quakers, Socinians, and Jews. The continual plottings and political disaffections of these parties forced him to rule on a system to which he was not at first inclined. England was not yet prepared for the civil and religious liberty at which the advocates of revolution had at first aimed.

So Cromwell now resolved to rule alone. And he ruled well. His armies were victorious on the continent, and England was respected abroad, and prospered at home. The most able and upright men were appointed to office. The chairs of the universities were filled with illustrious scholars, and the bench adorned with learned and honest judges. He defended the great interests of Protestantism on the Continent, and formed alliances which contributed to the political and commercial greatness of his country. He generously assisted the persecuted Protestants in the valleys of Piedmont, and refused to make treaties with hostile powers unless the religious liberties of the Protestants were respected. He lived at Hampton Court, the old palace of Cardinal Wolsey, in simple and sober dignity; nor was debauchery or riot seen at his court. He lived simply and unostentatiously, and to the last preserved the form, and perhaps the spirit, of his early piety. He surrounded himself with learned men, and patronized poets and scholars. Milton was his familiar guest, and the youthful Dryden was not excluded from his table. An outward morality, at least, was generally observed, and the strictest discipline was kept at his court.

Had Cromwell's life been prolonged to threescore and ten, the history of England might have been different for the next two hundred years. But such was not his fortune. Providence removed him from the scene of his conflicts and his heroism not long after the dissolution of his last parliament. The death of a favorite daughter preyed upon his mind, and the cares of government undermined his constitution. He died on the 3d of September, 1658, the anniversary of his great battles of Worcester and Dunbar, in the sixtieth year of his age.

Two or three nights before he died, he was heard to ejaculate the following prayer, in the anticipation of his speedy departure; "Lord, though I am a miserable and wretched creature, I am in covenant with thee, through thy grace; and I may, I will come to thee, for thy people. Thou hast made me, though very unworthy, a mean instrument to do them good, and Thee service; and many of them have set too high value upon me, though others wish and would be glad of my death. Lord, however Thou disposest of me, continue and go on to do good to them. Give them consistency of judgment, one heart, and mutual love; and, with the work of reformation, go on to deliver them, and make the name of Christ glorious in the world. Teach those who look too much on thy instrument to depend more upon Thyself. Pardon such as desire to trample upon the dust of a poor worm, for they are Thy people too. And pardon the folly of this short prayer, even for Jesus Christ's sake. And give me a good night, if it be Thy pleasure. Amen."

Thus closed the career of Oliver Cromwell, the most remarkable man in the list of England's heroes. His motives and his honesty have often been impeached, and sometimes by the most excellent and discriminating, but oftener by heated partisans, who had no sympathy with his reforms or opinions. His genius, however, has never been questioned, nor his extraordinary talent, for governing a nation in the most eventful period of its history. And there is a large class, and that class an increasing one, not confined to Independents or republicans, who look upon him as one habitually governed by a stern sense of duty, as a man who feared God and regarded justice, as a man sincerely devoted to the best interests of his country, and deserving of the highest praises of all enlightened critics. No man has ever been more extravagantly eulogized, or been the subject of more unsparing abuse and more cordial detestation. Some are incapable of viewing him in any other light than as a profound hypocrite and ambitious despot, while others see in him nothing but the saint and unspotted ruler. He had his defects; for human nature, in all instances, is weak; but in spite of these, and of many and great inconsistencies, from which no sophistry can clear him, his great and varied excellences will ever entitle him to the rank accorded to him by such writers as Vaughan and Carlyle.

[Sidenote: Regal Government Restored.]

With the death of Cromwell virtually ended the republic. "Puritanism without its king, is kingless, anarchic, falls into dislocation, staggers, and plunges into even deeper anarchy." His son Richard, according to his will, was proclaimed protector in his stead. But his reign was short. Petitions poured in from every quarter for the restoration of parliament. It was restored, and also with it royalty itself. General Monk advanced with his army from Scotland, and quartered in London. In May, 1660, Charles II. was proclaimed king at the gates of Westminster Hall. The experiment of a republic had been tried, and failed. Puritanism veiled its face. It was no longer the spirit of the nation. A great reaction commenced. Royalty, with new but disguised despotism, resumed its sway.

* * * * *

REFERENCES.—Carlyle's, Dr. Vaughan's, and D'Aubigne's Life of Cromwell. Neal's History of the Puritans. Macaulay's History of England. Godwin's Commonwealth. The common histories of England. Milton's prose writings may be profitably read in this connection, and the various reviews and essays which have of late been written, on the character of Cromwell.



CHAPTER XIV.

THE REIGN OF CHARLES II.

[Sidenote: The Restoration.]

[Sidenote: Great Public Rejoicings.]

Few events in English history have ever been hailed with greater popular enthusiasm than the restoration of Charles II. On the 25th of May, 1660, he landed near Dover, with his two brothers, the Dukes of York and Gloucester. On the 29th of May, he made his triumphal entry into London. It was his birthday, he was thirty years of age, and in the full maturity of manly beauty, while his gracious manners and captivating speech made him the favorite of the people, as well as of the old nobility. The season was full of charms, and the spirits of all classes were buoyant with hope. Every thing conspired to give a glow to the popular enthusiasm. A long line of illustrious monarchs was restored. The hateful fires of religious fanaticism were apparently extinguished. An accomplished sovereign, disciplined in the school of adversity, of brilliant talents, amiable temper, fascinating manners, and singular experiences, had returned to the throne of his ancestors, and had sworn to rule by the laws, to forget old offences, and promote liberty of conscience. No longer should there be a government of soldiers, nor the rule of a man hostile to those pleasures and opinions which had ever been dear to the English people. With the return of the exiled prince, should also return joy, peace, and prosperity. For seventeen years, there had been violent political and social animosities, war, tyranny, social restraints, and religious fanaticism. But order and law were now to be reestablished, and the reign of cant and hypocrisy was now to end. Justice and mercy were to meet together in the person of a king who was represented to have all the virtues and none of the vices of his station and his times. So people reasoned and felt, of all classes and conditions. And why should they not rejoice in the restoration of such blessings? The ways were strewn with flowers, the bells sent forth a merry peal, the streets were hung with tapestries; while aldermen with their heavy chains, nobles in their robes of pomp, ladies with their silks and satins, and waving handkerchiefs, filling all the balconies and windows; musicians, dancers, and exulting crowds,—all welcomed the return of Charles. Never was there so great a jubilee in London; and never did monarch receive such addresses of flattery and loyalty. "Dread monarch," said the Earl of Manchester, in the House of Lords, "I offer no flattering titles. You are the desire of three kingdoms, the strength and stay of the tribes of the people." "Most royal sovereign," said one of the deputations, "the hearts of all are filled with veneration for you, confidence in you, longings for you. All degrees, and ages, and sexes, high, low, rich and poor, men, women, and children, join in sending up to Heaven one prayer, 'Long live King Charles II.;' so that the English air is not susceptible of any other sound, bells, bonfires, peals of ordnance, shouts, and acclamations of the people bear no other moral; nor can his majesty conceive with what joy, what cheerfulness, what lettings out of the soul, what expressions of transported minds, a stupendous concourse of people attended the proclamation of their most potent, most mighty, and most undoubted king." Such was the adulatory language addressed by the English people to the son of the king they had murdered, and to a man noted for every frivolity and vice that could degrade a sovereign. What are we to think of that public joy, and public sycophancy, after so many years of hard fighting for civil and religious liberty? For what were the battles of Naseby and Worcester? For what the Solemn League and Covenant? For what the trial and execution of Charles I.? For what the elevation of Cromwell? Alas! for what were all the experiments and sufferings of twenty years, the breaking up of old and mighty customs, and twenty years of blood, usurpation, and change? What were the benefits of the Revolution? Or, had it no benefits? How happened it that a whole nation should simultaneously rise and expel their monarch from a throne which his ancestors had enjoyed for six hundred years, and then, in so short a time, have elevated to this old throne, which was supposed to be subverted forever, the son of their insulted, humiliated, and murdered king? and this without bloodshed, with every demonstration of national rejoicings, and with every external mark of repentance for their past conduct. Charles, too, was restored without any of those limitations by which the nation sought to curtail the power of his father. The nation surrendered to him more absolute power than the most ambitious kings, since the reign of John, had ever claimed,—more than he ever dared to expect. How shall we explain these things? And what is the moral which they teach?

[Sidenote: Reaction to Revolutionary Principles.]

One fact is obvious,—that a great reaction had taken place in the national mind as to revolutionary principles. It is evident that a great disgust for the government of Cromwell had succeeded the antipathy to the royal government of Charles. All classes as ardently desired the restoration, as they had before favored the rebellion. Even the old parliamentarians hailed the return of Charles, notwithstanding it was admitted that the protectorate was a vigorous administration; that law and order were enforced; that religious liberty was proclaimed; that the rights of conscience were respected; that literature and science were encouraged; that the morals of the people were purified; that the ordinances of religion were observed; that vice and folly were discouraged; that justice was ably administered; that peace and plenty were enjoyed; that prosperity attended the English arms abroad; and that the nation was as much respected abroad as it was prosperous at home. These things were admitted by the very people who rejoiced in the restoration. And yet, in spite of all these substantial blessings, the reign of Cromwell was odious. Why was this?

It can only be explained on the supposition that there were unendurable evils connected with the administration of Cromwell, which more than balanced the benefits he conferred; or, that expectations were held out by Charles of national benefits greater than those conferred by the republic; or, that the nation had so retrograded in elevation of sentiment as to be unable to appreciate the excellences of Cromwell's administration.

There is much to support all of these suppositions. In regard to the evils connected with the republic, it is certain that a large standing army was supported, and was necessary to uphold the government of the protector, in order to give to it efficiency and character. This army was expensive, and the people felt the burden. They always complain under taxation, whether necessary or not. Taxes ever make any government unpopular, and made the administration of Cromwell especially so. And the army showed the existence of a military despotism, which, however imperatively called for, or rendered unavoidable by revolution, was still a hateful fact. The English never have liked the principle of a military despotism. And it was a bitter reflection to feel that so much blood and treasure had been expended to get rid of the arbitrary rule of the Stuarts, only to introduce a still more expensive and arbitrary government, under the name of a republic. Moreover, the eyes of the people were opened to the moral corruptions incident to the support of a large army, without which the power of Cromwell would have been unsubstantial. He may originally have desired to establish his power on a civil basis, rather than a military one; but his desires were not realized. The parliaments which he assembled were unpractical and disorderly. He was forced to rule without them. But the nation could not forget this great insult to their liberties, and to those privileges which had ever been dear to them. The preponderance of the civil power has, for several centuries, characterized the government; and no blessings were sufficiently great to balance the evil, in the eye of an Englishman, of the preponderance of a military government, neither the excellence of Cromwell's life, nor the glory and greatness to which he raised the nation.

[Sidenote: Excellences in Charles's Government.]

Again, much was expected of Charles II., and there was much in his character and early administration to produce content. His manners were agreeable. He had no personal antipathies or jealousies. He selected, at first, the wisest and best of all parties to be his counsellors and ministers. He seemed to forget old offences. He was fond of pleasure; was good-natured and affable. He summoned a free parliament. His interests were made to appear identical with those of the people. He promised to rule by the laws. He did not openly infringe on the constitution. And he restored, what has ever been so dear to the great body of the nation, the Episcopal Church in all its beauty and grandeur, while he did not recommence the persecution of Puritans until some time had elapsed from his restoration. Above all, he disbanded the army, which was always distasteful to the people,—odious, onerous, and oppressive. The civil power again triumphed over that of the military, and circumstances existed which rendered the subversion of liberty very difficult. Many adverse events transpired during his unfortunate and disgraceful reign; but these, in the early part of it, had not, of course, been anticipated.

[Sidenote: Failure of the Puritan Experiment.]

There is also force in the third supposition, that the nation had retrograded in moral elevation. All writers speak of a strong reaction to the religious fervor of the early revolutionists. The moral influence of the army had proved destructive to the habits and sentiments of the people. A strong love of pleasure and demoralizing amusements existed, when Charles was recalled. A general laxity of morals was lamented by the wisest and best of the nation. The religious convictions of enthusiasts survived their sympathies. Hypocrisy and cant succeeded fervor and honesty. Infidelity lurked in many a bosom in which devotional ardor had once warmly burned. Distrust of all philanthropy and all human virtue was as marked, as faith in the same previously had been. The ordinances of religion became irksome, and it was remembered with bitterness that the Puritans, in the days of their ascendency, had cruelly proscribed the most favorite pleasures and time-honored festivals of old England. But the love of them returned with redoubled vigor. May-poles, wrestling-matches, bear-baitings, puppet-shows, bowls, horse-racing, betting, rope-dancing, romping under the mistletoe on Christmas, eating boars' heads, attending the theatres, health-drinking,—all these old-fashioned ways, in which the English sought merriment, were restored. The evil was chiefly in the excess to which these pleasures were carried; and every thing, which bore any resemblance to the Puritans, was ridiculed and despised. The nation, as a nation, did not love Puritanism, or any thing pertaining to it, after the deep religious excitement had passed away. The people were ashamed of prayer-meetings, of speaking through their noses, of wearing their hair straight, of having their garments cut primly, of calling their children by the name of Moses, Joshua, Jeremiah, Obadiah, &c.; and, in short, of all customs and opinions peculiar to the Extreme Puritans. So general was the disgust of Puritanism, so eager were all to indulge in the pleasures that had been forbidden under the reign of Cromwell, so sick were they of the very name of republicanism, that Puritanism may be said to have proved, in England, a signal failure.

Such were some of the reasons of popular acclamation on the restoration of Charles II., and which we cannot consider entirely without force. A state of mind existed in England as favorable to the encroachments of royalty, as, twenty years before, it had been unfavorable.

Charles was not a high-minded, or honest, or patriotic king; and therefore we might naturally expect the growth of absolutism during his reign. The progress of absolutism is, indeed, one of its features. This, for a time, demands our notice.

On the restoration of Charles II., his subjects made no particular stipulations respecting their liberties, which were incautiously intrusted to his hands. But, at first, he did not seem inclined to grasp at greater powers than what the constitution allowed him. He had the right to appoint the great officers of state, the privilege of veto on legislative enactments, the control of the army and navy, the regulation of all foreign intercourse, and the right of making peace and war. But the constitution did not allow him to rule without a parliament, or to raise taxes without its consent. The parliament might grant or withhold supplies at pleasure, and all money bills originated and were discussed in the House of Commons alone. These were the great principles of the English constitution, which Charles swore to maintain.

[Sidenote: Repeal of the Triennial Bill.]

The first form in which the encroaching temper of the king was manifested was, in causing the Triennial Bill to be repealed. This was indeed done by the parliament, but through the royal influence. This bill was not that a parliament should be assembled every three years, but that the interval between one session and another should not exceed that period. But this wise law, which had passed by acclamation during the reign of Charles I., and for which even Clarendon had voted, was regarded by Charles II. as subversive of the liberty of his crown; and a supple, degenerate and sycophantic parliament gratified his wishes.

About the same time was passed the Corporation Act, which enjoined all magistrates, and persons of trust in corporations, to swear that they believed it unlawful, under any pretence whatever to take arms against the king. The Presbyterians refused to take this oath; and they were therefore excluded from offices of dignity and trust. The act bore hard upon all bodies of Dissenters and Roman Catholics, the former of whom were most cruelly persecuted in this reign.

[Sidenote: Secret Alliance with Louis XIV.]

The next most noticeable effort of Charles to extend his power independently of the law, was his secret alliance with Louis XIV. This was not known to the nation, and even but to few of his ministers, and was the most disgraceful act of his reign. For the miserable stipend of two hundred thousand pounds a year, he was ready to compromise the interests of the kingdom, and make himself the slave of the most ambitious sovereign in Europe. He became a pensioner of France, and yet did not feel his disgrace. Clarendon, attached as he was to monarchy, and to the house of Stuart, could not join him in his base intrigues; and therefore lost, as was to be expected, the royal favor. He had been the companion and counsellor of Charles in the days of his exile; he had attempted to enkindle in his mind the desire of great deeds and virtues; he had faithfully served him as chancellor and prime minister; he was impartial and incorruptible; he was as much attached to Episcopacy, as he was to monarchy; he had even advised Charles to rule without a parliament; and yet he was disgraced because he would not comply with all the wishes of his unscrupulous master. But Clarendon was, nevertheless, unpopular with the nation. He had advised Charles to sell Dunkirk, the proudest trophy of the Revolution, and had built for himself a splendid palace, on the site of the present Clarendon Hotel, in Albemarle Street, which the people called Dunkirk House. He was proud, ostentatious, and dictatorial, and was bitterly hostile to all democratic influences. He was too good for one party, and not good enough for the other, and therefore fell to the ground; but he retired, if not with dignity, at least with safety. He retreated to the Continent, and there wrote his celebrated history of the Great Rebellion, a partial and bitter history, yet a valuable record of the great events of the age of revolution which he had witnessed and detested.

Charles received the bribe of two hundred thousand pounds from the French king, with the hope of being made independent of his parliament, and with the condition of assisting Louis XIV. in his aggressive wars on the liberties of Europe, especially those of Holland. He was, at heart an absolutist, and rejoiced in the victories of the "Grand Monarch." But this supply was scarcely sufficient even for his pleasures, much less to support the ordinary pomp of a monarchy, and the civil and military powers of the state. So he had to resort to other means.

[Sidenote: Venality and Sycophancy of Parliament.]

It happened, fortunately for his encroachments, but unfortunately for the nation, that the English parliament, at that period, was more corrupt, venal, base, and sycophantic than at any period under the Tudor kings, or at any subsequent period under the Hanoverian princes. The House of Commons made no indignant resistance; it sent up but few spirited remonstrances; but tamely acquiesced in the measures of Charles and his ministers. Its members were bought and sold with unblushing facility, and even were corrupted by the agents of the French king. One member received six thousand pounds for his vote. Twenty-nine of the members received from five hundred to twelve hundred pounds a year. Charles I. attempted to rule by opposition to the parliament; Charles II. by corrupting it. Hence it was nearly silent in view of his arbitrary spirit, his repeated encroachments, and his worthless public character.