[Footnote 1: Commons Journals of dates; Phillips, 687-688; Skinner, 233-242; Ludlow, 832-836; Letters of M. de Bordeaux in Guizot, II. 347-365.]

The Rump, which had been still busy on Saturday with the Bill of Qualifications or "Disabling Bill," but whose sitting on Monday is marked only by a hiatus in the Journals, had not formed the House on Tuesday morning when the procession of secluded members, swelled to about eighty by stragglers on the way, entered and took their seats. A few of the Rumpers, seeing what had occurred, ruefully left the House, to return no more; but most remained and amalgamated themselves easily with the more numerous new comers. The reconstituted House then plunged at once into business thus:-"PRAYERS: Resolved, &c., That the Resolution of this House of the 18th of December, 1648, 'that liberty be given to the members of this House to declare their dissent to the vote of the 5th of December 1648 that the King's Answer to the Propositions of both Houses was a ground for this House to proceed upon for settlement of the Peace of the Kingdom,' be vacated, and made null and void, and obliterated." In other words, here was the Long Parliament, like a Rip Van Winkle, resuming in Feb. 1659-60 the work left off in Dec. 1648, and acknowledging not an inch of gap between the two dates. There were seven other similar Resolutions, cancelling votes and orders standing in the way; and these, with orders for the discharge of the citizens recently imprisoned by the Rump, and resolutions for annulling the late new Army Commission of the Rump, and for appointing Monk to be "Captain-General and Commander-in-Chief, under the Parliament, of all the land-forces of England, Scotland, and Ireland," and continuing Vice-Admiral Lawson, in his naval command, were the sum and substance of the business of the first sitting.[1]

[Footnote 1: Commons Journals of date.]

Before night Monk and his officers had drafted a Letter to all the regiments and garrisons of England, Scotland, and Ireland, explaining to them that, by the grace of God and good London management, they had passed through another revolution. The Letter began "Dear Brethren and Fellow-Soldiers," and bore Monk's signature, followed by those of Colonels Ralph Knight, John Clobery, Thomas Read, John Hubblethorn, Leonard Lydcott, Thomas Sanders, William Eyre, John Streater, Richard Mosse, William Parley, Arthur Evelyn, and sixteen inferior officers. It was vague, but intimated that the Government was still to be that of a Commonwealth, and that all disturbances of the peace "in favour of Charles Stuart or any other pretended authority" were to be put down. More explicit had been Monk's speech at Whitehall that morning to the secluded members on their way to the House, published copies of which were also distributed by Monk's authority. He had assured the secluded members, "and that in God's presence," that he had nothing before his eyes "but God's glory and the settlement of these nations upon Commonwealth foundations"; and he had pointed out the interest of the Londoners especially in the preservation of a Commonwealth, "that Government only being capable to make them, through the Lord's blessing, the metropolis and bank of trade for all Christendom." On the Church question he had been very precise. "As to a Government in the Church," he had said, "the want whereof hath been no small cause of these nations' distractions, it is most manifest that, if it be monarchical in the State, the Church must follow and Prelacy must be brought in—which these nations, I know, cannot bear, and against which they have so solemnly sworn; and indeed moderate, not rigid, Presbyterian Government, with a sufficient liberty for consciences truly tender, appears at present to be the most indifferent and acceptable way to the Church's settlement." It is not uninteresting to know that Monk's chief ecclesiastical adviser at this moment, and probably the person who had formulated for him the description of the kind of Church that would be most desirable, was Mr. James Sharp, from Crail in Scotland. He had followed Monk to London with a commission from the leaders of the Scottish Resolutioner clergy; and from his arrival there he had been, Baillie informs us, "the most wise, faithful, and happy counsellor" Monk had, keeping him from all wrong steps by his extraordinary Banffshire sagacity.[1]

[Footnote 1: Phillips, 688-689; Parl. Hist. III, 1579-1581 (Monk's Speech and Declaration); Baillie, III. 440-441. How uncertain it was yet whether Monk would ever desert the Commonwealth, and how anxious the Royalists were on the subject, appears from a letter of Mordaunt to Charles, dated Feb. 17, 1659-60, or four days before the Restoration of the Secluded Members (Clar. State Papers, III. 683). Speaking of Monk, Mordaunt writes thus:—"The visible inclination of the people; the danger he foresees from so many enemies; his particular pique to Lambert; the provocation of the Anabaptists and Sectaries, with whom I may now join the Catholics; the want of money to continue standing armies; the divisions of the chief officers in those respective armies; the advices of those near him—I mean, in particular, Clobery and Knight...; the admonitions daily given him by Mr. Annesley and Alderman Robinson;—unless God has fed him to the slaughter, cannot but move him."]



CHAPTER I.

Third Section.

MONK'S DICTATORSHIP, THE RESTORED LONG PARLIAMENT, AND THE DRIFT TO THE RESTORATION: FEB. 21, 1659-60—APRIL 25, 1660.

THE RESTORED LONG PARLIAMENT: NEW COUNCIL OF STATE: ACTIVE MEN OF THE PARLIAMENT: PRYNNE, ARTHUR ANNESLEY, AND WILLIAM MORRICE: MISCELLANEOUS PROCEEDINGS OF THE PARLIAMENT: RELEASE OF OLD ROYALIST PRISONERS: LAMBERT COMMITTED TO THE TOWER: REWARDS AND HONOURS FOR MONK: "OLD GEORGE" IN THE CITY: REVIVAL OF THE SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT, THE WESTMINSTER CONFESSION OF FAITH, AND ALL THE APPARATUS OF A STRICT PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH-ESTABLISHMENT: CAUTIOUS MEASURES FOR A POLITICAL SETTLEMENT: THE REAL QUESTION EVADED AND HANDED OVER TO ANOTHER PARLIAMENT: CALLING OF THE CONVENTION PARLIAMENT AND ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE SAME: DIFFICULTY ABOUT A HOUSE OF LORDS: HOW OBVIATED: LAST DAY OF THE LONG PARLIAMENT, MARCH 16, 1659-60: SCENE IN THE HOUSE.—MONK AND THE COUNCIL OF STATE LEFT IN CHARGE: ANNESLEY THE MANAGING COLLEAGUE OF MONK: NEW MILITIA ACT CARRIED OUT: DISCONTENTS AMONG MONK'S OFFICERS AND SOLDIERS: THE RESTORATION OF CHARLES STILL VERY DUBIOUS: OTHER HOPES AND PROPOSALS FOR THE MOMENT: THE KINGSHIP PRIVATELY OFFERED TO MONK BY THE REPUBLICANS: OFFER DECLINED: BURSTING OF THE POPULAR TORRENT OF ROYALISM AT LAST, AND ENTHUSIASTIC DEMANDS FOR THE RECALL OF CHARLES: ELECTIONS TO THE CONVENTION PARLIAMENT GOING ON MEANWHILE: HASTE OF HUNDREDS TO BE FOREMOST IN BIDDING CHARLES WELCOME: ADMIRAL MONTAGUE AND HIS FLEET IN THE THAMES: DIRECT COMMUNICATIONS AT LAST BETWEEN MONK AND CHARLES: GREENVILLE THE GO-BETWEEN: REMOVAL OF CHARLES AND HIS COURT FROM BRUSSELS TO BREDA: GREENVILLE SENT BACK FROM BREDA WITH A COMMISSION FOR MONK AND SIX OTHER DOCUMENTS.—BROKEN-SPIRITEDNESS OF THE REPUBLICAN LEADERS, BUT FORMIDABLE RESIDUE OF REPUBLICANISM IN THE ARMY: MONK'S MEASURES FOR PARALYSING THE SAME: SUCCESSFUL DEVICE OF CLARGES: MONTAGUE'S FLEET IN MOTION: ESCAPE OF LAMBERT FROM THE TOWER: HIS RENDEZVOUS IN NORTHAMPTONSHIRE: GATHERING OF A WRECK OF THE REPUBLICANS FOUND HIM: DICK INGOLDSBY SENT TO CRUSH HIM: THE ENCOUNTER NEAR DAVENTRY, APRIL 22, 1660, AND RECAPTURE OF LAMBERT: GREAT REVIEW OF THE LONDON MILITIA, APRIL 24, THE DAY BEFORE THE MEETING OF THE CONVENTION PARLIAMENT: IMPATIENT LONGING FOR CHARLES: MONK STILL IMPENETRABLE, AND THE DOCUMENTS FROM BREDA RESERVED.

In the nomination of a new Council of State the House adhered to the now orthodox number of thirty-one. Monk was named first of all, by special and open vote, on the 21st of February; and the others were chosen by ballot, confirmed by open vote in each case, on the 23rd, when the number of members present and giving in voting-papers was 114. The list, in the order of preference, was then, as follows:—

General GEORGE MONK

William Pierrepoint John Crewe Colonel Edward Rossiter (Rec.) Richard Knightley Colonel Alexander Popham Colonel Herbert Morley Lord Fairfax Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, Bart. Sir Gilbert Gerrard, Bart. Lord Chief Justice St. John Lord Commissioner Widdrington Sir John Evelyn of Wilts Sir William Waller Sir Richard Onslow Sir William Lewis, Bart. Colonel (Admiral) Edward Montague (Rec.) Colonel Edward Harley (Sec.) Richard Norton (Rec.) Arthur Annesley (Rec.) Denzil Holles Sir John Temple (Rec.) Colonel George Thompson (Sec.) John Trevor (Rec.) Sir John Holland, Bart. Sir John Potts, Bart. Colonel John Birch (Rec.) Sir Harbottle Grimstone John Swinfen (Rec.) John Weaver (Rec.) Serjeant John Maynard.

With the exception of Monk and Fairfax, who were not members of the Parliament, and the latter of whom was absent in Yorkshire, these Councillors are to be imagined as also active in the business of the House. About nine of them were Residuary Rumpers who had accepted willingly or cheerfully the return of the secluded. The proportion of Residuary Rumpers in the whole House was even larger. Though it had been reported by Prynne that as many as 194 of the secluded were still alive, and a contemporary printed list gives the names of 177 as available,[1] the present House never through its brief session attained to a higher attendance than 150, the average attendance ranging from 100 to 120; and I have ascertained by actual counting that more than a third of these were Residuary Rumpers. It is strange to find among them such of the extreme Republicans as Hasilrig, Scott, Marten, and Robinson. They left the House for a time, but re-appeared in it, whereas Ludlow and Neville and others would not re-appear—Ludlow, as he tells us, making a practice of walking up and down in Westminster Hall outside, partly in protest, partly to show that he had not fled.[2] Actually six Regicides remained in the House: viz. Scott, Marten, Ingoldsby, Millington, Colonel Hutchinson, and Sir John Bourchier. The majority of the Residuary Rumpers, however,—represented by such men as Lenthall, St. John, Ashley Cooper, Colonel Thompson, Colonel Fielder, Carew Raleigh, Attorney-General Reynolds, Solicitor-General Ellis, and Colonel Morley, and even by two of the Regicides mentioned (Ingoldsby and Hutchinson),—were now in harmony with the Secluded, and by no means disposed to abet Hasilrig, Scott, and Marten in any farther contest for Rump principles. In other words, the House was now led really by the chiefs of the reinstated members. Prominent among these, besides Crewe, Knightley, Gerrard, Sir John Evelyn of Wilts, Sir William Waller, Sir William Lewis, Arthur Annesley, Sir Harbottle Grimston, and others named as of the Council, were Prynne, Sir Anthony Irby, Major-General Browne, Sir William Wheeler, Lord Ancram (member for a Cornish burgh), William Morrice, and some others, not of the Council.—Prynne, who ought to have been on the Council, if courage for the cause of the Secluded and indefatigable assiduity in pleading it were sufficient qualifications, had not been thought fit for that honour; but he was a very busy man in the House. He had taken his place there very solemnly the first day, with an old basket-hilt sword on; and he was much in request on Committees.—Of more aristocratic manners and antecedents, and therefore fitter for the Council, was Arthur Annesley, a man of whom we have not heard much hitherto, but who, from this point onwards, was to attract a good deal of notice. The eldest son of the Irish peer Viscount Valentia and Baron Mountnorris, he had come into the Long Parliament in 1640 as member for Radnorshire; he had gone with the King in the beginning of the Civil War; but he had afterwards done good service for the Parliament in Ireland during the Rebellion, and had at length conformed to the Commonwealth and the Protectorate. While the Protectorate lasted he had been really a Cromwellian; but, like so many other Cromwellians, he was now a half-declared Royalist. He had been one of the chief negotiators with Monk for the re-seating of the Secluded, and he took at once a foremost place among them, both in the House and in the Council. He was now about forty-fire years of age.—An accession to the House, after it had sat for a week or more, was Mr. William Morrice. He was a Devonshire man, like Monk, to whom he was related by marriage. He had been sent into the Long Parliament in 1645 as Recruiter for Devonshire, and had been afterwards secluded; and he had been returned to Oliver's two Parliaments and to Richard's. Living in Devonshire as a squire "of fair estate," he had acquired the character of an able and bookish man of enlightened Presbyterian principles; he had been of use to Monk in the management of his Devonshire property; there had been constant correspondence between them; and there was no one for whom Monk had a greater regard. Now, accordingly, at the age of about five and fifty, Morrice had left his books and come from Devonshire to London at Monk's request, not only to take his place in Parliament, but also to be a kind of private adviser and secretary to Monk, more in his intimacy than even Dr. Clarges.—To complete this view of the composition of the new Government, we may add that on Feb. 24 Thomas St. Nicholas was made Clerk of the Parliament, and that on the 27th the House appointed Thurloe and a John Thompson to be joint-secretaries of State. There was a division on Thurloe's appointment, but it was carried by sixty-five votes to thirty-eight. The tellers against Thurloe were Annesley and Sir William Waller, but he was supported by Sir John Evelyn of Wilts and Colonel Hutchinson. Thurloe's former subordinate, Mr. William Jessop, was now clerk to the Council of State.[3]

[Footnote 1: A single folio fly-leaf, dated March 26 in the Thomason copy, and called "The Grand Memorandum: A True and Perfect Catalogue of the Secluded Members of the House of Commons," &c. It was printed by Husbands on the professed "command" of one of the members (Prynne?).]

[Footnote 2: The fly-leaf mentioned in last note gives the names of thirty-three Rumpers who did not sit in the House after the readmission of the secluded members. Arranged alphabetically they were:—Anlaby, Bingham, John Carew, Cawley, James Challoner, Crompton, Darley, Fleetwood, John Goodwyn, Nicholas Gold, John Gurdon, Sir James Harrington, Hallows, Harvey, Heveningham, John Jones, Viscount Lisle, Livesey, Ludlow, Christopher Martin, Neville, Nicholas, Pigott, Pyne, Sir Francis Russell, the Earl of Salisbury, Algernon Sidney, Walter Strickland, Sir William Strickland, Wallop, Sir Thomas Walsingham, and Whitlocke. Compare with the list of the Restored Rump, ante pp. 453-455.]

[Footnote 3: Commons Journals of dates, and generally from Feb. 21 to March 16, 1659-60, with examination of the lists of all the Committees through that period; Ludlow, 845-846; Wood's Ath. IV. 181 et seq. (Annesley), and III. 1087 et seq. (Morrice); Clarendon, 891 and 895.]

By the rough compact made with Monk, the House was to confine itself to the special work for which it was the indispensable instrument, and to push on as rapidly as possible, through that, to an act for its own dissolution. The majority was such that the compact was easily fulfilled. Six-and-twenty days sufficed for all that was required from this reinstated fag-end of the famous Long Parliament.

Naturally much of the work of the House took the form (1) of redress of old or recent injuries, and (2) of rewards and punishments. Almost the first thing done by the House was to restore the privileges of the City of London, release the imprisoned Common Council men and citizens, and issue orders for the repair of the broken gates and portcullises. The City and the Parliament were now heartily at one, and there was a loan from the City of L60,000 in token of the happy reconciliation. Sir George Booth, who had been recommitted to the Tower by the Rump, was finally released, though still on security. There were several other releases of prisoners and removals of sequestrations, and at length (Feb. 27) it was referred to a Committee to consider comprehensively the cases of all persons whatsoever then in prison on political grounds. On the 3rd of March particular orders were given for the discharge of the Earl of Lauderdale, the Earl of Crawford, and Lord Sinclair, from their imprisonment in Windsor Castle; and thus the last of the Scottish prisoners from Worcester Battle found themselves free men once more. Twelve days afterwards the House went to the extreme of the merciful process by ordering the release of poor Dr. Matthew Wren, the Laudian ex-Bishop, who had been committed by the Long Parliament early in 1641 along with Laud and Strafford, and who had been lying in the Tower, all but forgotten, through the intervening nineteen years. At the same time discretionary powers were given to the Council of State to discharge any political prisoners that might be still left.—In the article of punishments the House was very temperate indeed. Notorious Rumpers were removed, of course, from military and civil offices, and there were sharper inquiries after Colonel Cobbet, Colonel Ashfield, Major Creed, and others too suspiciously at large; but, with one exception, there seemed to be no thought of the serious prosecution of any for what had been done either under the Rump Government or during the Wallingford-House interruption. The exception was Lambert. Brought before the Council, and unable or unwilling to find the vast bail of L20,000 which they demanded for his liberty, he was committed by them to the Tower; and the House, on the 6th of March, confirmed the act, and ordered his detention for future trial. While Lambert was thus treated as the chief criminal, the rewards and honours went still, of course, mainly to Monk. To his Commandership-in-chief of all the Armies there was added the Generalship of the whole Fleet, though in this command, to Monk's disappointment, Montague was conjoined with him (March 2). He was also made Keeper of Hampton Court; and the L1000 a year in lands which the Rump had voted him was changed by a special Bill into L20,000 to be paid at once (March 16), As the Bill was first drafted, the reward was said to be "for his signal services"; but by a vote on the third reading the word "signal" was changed into "eminent." Perhaps Annesley, Sir William Waller, and the other new chiefs at Whitehall were becoming a little tired of the praises of so peculiar an Aristides. But he was still a god among the Londoners. From St. James's, which was now his quarters, he would go into the City every other day, to attend one of a series of dinners which they had arranged for him in the halls of the great companies, and at which he found himself so much at ease in his morose way that he would hardly ever leave the table "till he was as drunk as a beast." Ludlow, who tells us so, would not have told an untruth even about Monk; and Ludlow was then in London, knowing well what went on. Let us suppose, however, that he exaggerated a little, and that old George was the victim of circumstances.[1]

[Footnote 1: Commons Journals of dates, and generally from Feb. 21 to March 16; Ludlow, 855-856.]

A large proportion of the proceedings of the House and the Council may be described as simply a re-establishment of Presbyterianism. The secluded members being Presbyterians to a man, there was at once an enthusiastic recollection of the edicts of the Long Parliament between 1643 and 1648, setting up Presbytery as the national Religion, with a determination to revert in detail to those symbols and forms of the Presbyterian system which the triumph of Independency had set aside during the Commonwealth, and which had been allowed only partially, and side by side with their contraries, in the broad Church-Establishment of the Protectorate. The unanimity and rapidity of the House in their votes in this direction must have alarmed the Independents and Sectaries. It was on Feb. 29 that the House appointed a Committee of twenty-nine on the whole subject of Religion and Church affairs—Annesley, Ashley Cooper, Prynne, and Sir Samuel Luke (i.e. Butler's Presbyterian "Sir Hudibras") being of the number; and on the 2nd of March, on report from this Committee, the Westminster Assembly's Confession of Faith, as it had been under discussion in the Long Parliament in 1646 (Vol. III. p. 512), was again brought before the House, and passed bodily at once, with the exception of chapter 30, "Of Church Censures," and chapter 31, "Of Synods and Councils"—which two chapters it was thought as well to keep still in Committee. The same day there were other resolutions of a Presbyterian tenor. But the climax was on March 5, in this form: "Ordered, That the SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT be printed and published, and set up and forthwith read in every church, and also read once a year according to former Act of Parliament, and that the said SOLEMN LEAGUE AND COVENANT be also set up in this House." Thus, when the bones of Alexander Henderson had been for more than thirteen years in their tomb in Grey Friars churchyard in Edinburgh, was the great document which he had drafted in that city in August 1643, as a bond of religious union for the Three Kingdoms, and only the first fortunes of which he had lived to see, resuscitated in all its glory. What more could Presbyterianism desire? That nothing might be wanting, however, there followed, on the 14th of March, a Bill "for approbation and admittance of ministers to public benefices and lectures," one of the clauses of which prescribed means for the immediate division of all the counties of England and Wales into classical Presbyteries, according to those former Presbyterianizing ordinances of the Long Parliament which had never been carried into effect save in London and Lancashire. The Universities were to be constituted into presbyteries or inserted into such; and the whole of South Britain was to be patterned ecclesiastically at last in that exact resemblance to North Britain which had been the ideal before Independency burst in. What measures of "liberty for consciences truly tender" might be conceded did not yet appear. Anabaptists, Quakers, Fifth Monarchy enthusiasts, and Monk's "Fanatics" generally, might tremble; and even moderate and orthodox Independents might foresee difficulty In retaining their livings in the State Church. Indeed Owen was already (March 13) displaced from his Deanery of Christ Church, Oxford, by a vote of the House recognising a prior claim of Dr. Reynolds to that post.[1]

[Footnote 1: Commons Journals of dates; Neal, IV. 224-225.]

In the matter of a political settlement the proceedings were equally rapid and simple. Celerity here was made possible by the fact that the House considered itself quite precluded from discussing the whole question of the future Constitution. Had they entered on that question, the probability is that they would have decided for a negotiation with Charles II., with a view to his return to England and assumption of the Kingship on terms borrowed from the old Newport Treaty with his father, or at all events on strictly expressed terms of some kind, limiting his authority and securing the Presbyterian Church-Establishment. Even this, however, was problematical. There were still Republicans and Cromwellians in the Parliament, and not a few of the Presbyterians members had been Commonwealth's men so long that it might well appear doubtful to them whether a return to Royalty now was worth the risks, or whether, if there must be a return to Royalty, it was in the least necessary to fix it again in the unlucky House of Stuart. Then the difficulties out of doors! No one knew what might be the effect upon Monk's own army, or upon the numerous Republican sectaries, of a sudden proposal in the present Parliament to restore Charles. On the other hand, the Old Royalists throughout the country had no wish to hear of such a proposal. They dreaded nothing so much, short of loss of all chance of the King's return, as seeing him return tied by such terms as the present Presbyterian House would impose. It was a relief to all parties, therefore, and a satisfactory mode of self-delusion to some, that the present House should abstain from the constitutional question altogether, and should confine itself to the one duty of providing another Parliament to which that question, with all its difficulties, might be handed over.—On the 22nd of February, the second day of the restored House, it was resolved that a new Parliament should be summoned for the 25th of April, and a Committee was appointed to consider qualifications. The Parliament was to be a "full and free" one, by the old electoral system of English and Welsh constituencies only, without any representation of Scotland or Ireland. But what was meant by "full and free"? On this question there was some light on the 13th of March, when the House passed a resolution annulling the obligation of members of Parliament to take the famous engagement to be faithful to "the Commonwealth as established, without King or House of Lords," and directing all orders enjoining that engagement to be expunged from the Journals. This was certainly a stroke in favour of Royalty, in so far as it left Royalty and Peerage open questions for the constituencies and the representatives they might choose; but, taken in connexion with the order, eight days before, for the revival of the Solemn League and Covenant—in which document "to preserve and defend the King's Majesty's person and authority" is one of the leading phrases—it was received generally as a positive anticipation of the judgment on these questions. There was yet farther light, however, between March 13 and March 16, when the House, on report from the Committee, settled the qualifications of members and electors. All Papists and all who had aided or abetted the Irish Rebellion were to be incapable of being members, and also all who, or whose fathers, had advised or voluntarily assisted in any war against the Parliament since Jan. 1, 1641-2, unless there had been subsequent manifestation of their good affections. This implied the exclusion of all the very conspicuous Royalists of the Civil Wars and the sons of such; and the present House, as the lineal representative of the Parliamentarians in those wars, could hardly have done less, especially as there was a saving-clause of which moderate Royalists would have the benefit, and as the electors were sure to interpret the saving-clause very liberally. For there was not even the same guardedness in the qualifications of the electors themselves. It was proposed, indeed, by the Committee to disfranchise all "that have been actually in arms for the late King or his son against the Parliament or have compounded for his or their delinquency" with an exception only in favour of manifest penitents; but this was negatived by the House by ninety-three votes (Lord Ancram and Mr, Herbert tellers) to fifty-six votes (Scott and Henry Marten tellers). Thus, active Royalists of the Civil Wars, if they might not be elected, might at least elect; and, as another regulation disqualified from electing or being elected all "that deny Magistracy or Ministry or either of them to be the Ordinances of God "—viz. all Fifth Monarchy men, extreme Anabaptists, and Quakers—the balance was still towards the Royalists. In short, as finally passed, the Bill was one tending to bring in a Parliament the main mass of which should consist of Presbyterians, though there might be a large intermixture of Old Royalists, Cromwellians, and moderate Commonwealth's men. To such a Parliament it might be safely left to determine what the future form of Government should be, whether Commonwealth continued, restored Kingship, or a renewal of the Protectorate. The present House had not itself decided anything. It had not decided against a continuance of the Commonwealth, should that seem best. It had only assumed that possibly that might not seem the best, and had therefore removed obstacles to the free deliberation of either of the other schemes. The revival of the Solemn League and Covenant might seem to imply more; but the phraseology of a document of 1643 might admit of re-interpretation in 1660.—A special perplexity of the present House was in the matter of the Other House or House of Lords. They were now sitting themselves as a Single House, notwithstanding that the Long Parliament, of which they professed themselves to be a continuation, consisted of two Houses. This was an anomaly in itself, nay an illegality; and there had been a hot-headed attempt of some of the younger Peers to remove it by bursting into the House of Lords at the same time that the secluded members took their seats in the Commons. Monk's soldiers had, by instructions, prevented that; and, with the full consent of all the older and wiser peers at hand, the management of the crisis had been left to the one reconstituted House. The anomaly, however, had been a subject of serious discussion in that House. On the one hand, they could not pass a vote for the restitution of the House of Peers without trenching on that very question of the future form of Government which they had resolved not to meddle with. On the other hand, absolute silence on the matter was impossible. How could the present single House, for example, even if its other acts were held valid, venture on, an Act for the dissolution of that Long Parliament whose peculiar privilege, wrung from Charles I. in May 1641, was that it should never be dissolved except by its own consent, i.e. by the joint-consent of the two component Houses? Yet this was the very thing—that had to be done before way could be made for the coming Parliament. The course actually taken was perhaps the only one that the circumstances permitted. When the House, at their last sitting, on Friday, March 16, did pass the Act dissolving itself and-calling the new Parliament, it incorporated with the Act a proviso in these words: "Provided always, and be it declared, that the single actings of this House, enforced by the pressing necessities of the present times, are not intended in the least to infringe, much less take away, the ancient native right which the House of Peers, consisting of those Lords who did engage in the cause of the Parliament against the forces raised in the name of the late King, and so continued until 1648, had and have to be a part of the Parliament of England." Here again there was not positive prejudgment so much as the removal of an obstacle.—It did seem, however, as if the House would not separate without passing the bounds it had prescribed for itself. It had already been debated in whose name the writs for the new Parliament should issue? "In King Charles's" had been the answer of the undaunted Prynne. He had been overruled, and the arrangement was that the writs should issue, as under a Commonwealth, "in the name of the Keepers of the Liberties of England." At the last sitting of the House, just as the vote for the dissolution was being put, the Presbyterian Mr. Crewe, provoked by some Republican utterance of Scott, moved that the House, before dissolving, should testify its abhorrence of the murder of the late King by a resolution disclaiming all hand in that affair. The untimely proposal caused a great excitement, various members starting up to protest that they at least had never concurred in the horrid act, while others, who had been King's judges or regicides, betrayed their uneasiness by prevarications and excuses. Not so Scott. "Though I know not where to hide my head at this time," he said boldly, "yet I dare not refuse to own that not only my hand, but my heart also, was in that action"; and he concluded by declaring he should consider it the highest honour of his existence to have it inscribed on his tomb: "Here lieth one who had a hand and a heart in the execution of Charles Stuart." Having thus spoken, he left the House, most of the Republicans accompanying him. The Dissolution Act was passed, and there was an end of the Long Parliament. Their last resolution was that the 6th of April should be a day of general fasting and humiliation.[1]

[Footnote 1: Commons Journals of dates; Ludlow, 863-864; Noble's Lives of the Regicides, II. 169-199 (Life of Scott, with evidence of Lenthall and others at his trial); Phillips, 694; Guizot, II. 167-168.]

Though the House was dissolved, the Council of State was to sit on, with full executive powers, till the meeting of the new Parliament. Annesley was now generally, if not habitually, the President of the Council, and in that capacity divided the principal management of affairs with Monk.

The Parliament having provided for expenses by an assessment of L100,000 a month for six months, the Council could give full attention to the main business of preserving the peace till the elections should be over. Conjoined with this, however, was the important duty of carrying out a new Militia Act which the Parliament had framed. It was an Act disbanding all the militia forces as they had been raised and officered by the Rump, and ordering the militia in each county to be reorganized by commissioners of Presbyterian or other suitable principles. The Act had given great offence to the regular Army, naturally jealous at all times of the civilian soldiery, but especially alarmed now by observing into what hands the Militia was going. It would be a militia of King's men, they said, and the Commonwealth would be undone! So strong was this feeling in the Army that Monk himself had remonstrated with the House, and the Militia Act, though passed on the 12th of March, was not printed till the House had removed his objections. This had been done by pointing to the clause of the Act which required that all officers of the new Militia should take an acknowledgment "that the war undertaken by both Houses of Parliament in their defence against the forces raised in the name of the late King was just and lawful." When Monk had professed himself satisfied, the re-organization of the Militia went on rapidly in all the counties. Monk was one of the Commissioners for the Militia of Middlesex, and to his other titles was added that of Major-General and Commander-in-chief of the Militia of London. Meanwhile the Council had issued proclamations over the country against any disturbance of the peace, and most of the active politicians had left town to look after their elections. The Harringtonian or Rota Club, one need hardly say, was no more in existence. After having been a five months' wonder, it had vanished, amid the laughter of the Londoners, as soon as the secluded members had added themselves to the Rump. Theorists and their "models" were no longer wanted.[1]

[Footnote 1: Commons Journals, March 10-16; Phillips, 694; Whitlocke, IV. 405-406; Wood's Ath. III. 1120.]

Not even yet was there any positive intimation that the Commonwealth was defunct. No one could declare that authoritatively, and every one might hope or believe as he liked. The all but universal conviction, however, even among the Republicans, was that the Republic was doomed, and that, if the last and worst consummation in a return of Charles Stuart was to be prevented, it could only be by consenting to some single-person Government of a less fatal kind. O that Richard's Protectorate could be restored! The thing was talked of by St. John and others, but the possibility was past. But might not Monk himself be invested with the sovereignty? Hasilrig and others actually went about Monk with the offer, imploring him to save his country by this last means; and the chance seemed so probable that the French ambassador, M. de Bordeaux, tried to ascertain through Clarges whether Monk's own inclinations ran that way. Monk was too wary for either the Rumpers or the Ambassador. He declined the offers of Hasilrig and his friends, allowing Clarges privately to inform the Council that such had been made; and, though he received the Ambassador, it was but gruffly. "The French ambassador visited General Monk, whom he found no accomplished courtier or statesman," writes Whitlocke sarcastically under March 24; and the ambassador's own account is that he could get nothing more from Monk, in reply to Mazarin's polite messages and requests for confidence, than a reiterated statement that he had no information to give. And so, a Single Person being inevitable, and the momentary uncertainty whether it would be "Charles, George, or Richard again" being out of the way, the long-dammed torrent had broken loose. And what a torrent! "King Charles! King Charles! King Charles!" was the cry that seemed to burst out simultaneously and irresistibly over all the British Islands. Men had been long drinking his health secretly or half-secretly, and singing songs of the old Cavalier kind in their own houses, or in convivial meetings with their neighbours; openly Royalist pamphlets had been frequent since the abolition of Richard's Protectorate; and, since the appearance of the Presbyterian Parliament of the secluded members, there had been hardly a pretence of suppressing any Royalist demonstrations whatever. On the evening of the 15th of March, the day before the Parliament dissolved itself, some bold fellows had come with a ladder to the Exchange in the City of London, where stood the pedestal from which a statue of Charles I. had been thrown down, and had deliberately painted out with a brush the Republican inscription on the pedestal, "Exit tyrannus, Regum ultimus," a large crowd gathering round them and shouting "God bless Charles the Second" round an extemporized bonfire. That had been a signal; but for still another fortnight, though all knew what all were thinking, there had been a hesitation to speak out. It was in the end of March or the first days of April 1660, when the elections had begun, that the hesitation suddenly ceased everywhere, and the torrent was at its full. They were drinking Charles's health openly in taverns; they were singing songs about him everywhere; they were tearing down the Arms of the Commonwealth in public buildings, and putting up the King's instead.[1]

[Footnote 1: Phillips, 695; Letters of M. de Bordeaux, Guizot, II. 381-395; Whitlocke, IV. 405; Pepys's Diary, from beginning to April 11, 1660.]

Popular feeling having declared itself so unmistakeably for Charles, it was but ordinary selfish prudence in all public men who had anything to lose, or anything to fear, to be among the foremost to bid him welcome. No longer now was it merely a rat here and there of the inferior sort, like Downing and Morland,[1] that was leaving the sinking ship. So many were leaving, and of so many sorts and degrees, that Hyde and the other Councillors of Charles had ceased to count, on their side, the deserters as they clambered up. He received now, Hyde tells us, "the addresses of many men who had never before applied themselves to him, and many sent to him for his Majesty's approbation and leave to sit in the next Parliament." Between London and Flanders messengers were passing to and fro daily, with perfect freedom and hardly any disguise of their business. Annesley, the President of the Council of State, was in correspondence with the King; Thurloe, now back in the Secretaryship to the Council, was in correspondence with him, and by no means dishonourably; and in the meetings of the Council of State itself, though it was bound to be corporately neutral till the Parliament should assemble, the drift of the deliberations was obvious. The only two men whose resistance even now could have compelled a pause were Monk and Montague. What of them?——It was no false rumour that Montague, the Cromwellian among Cromwellians, the man who would have died for Cromwell or perhaps for his dynasty, had been holding himself free for Charles. Under a cloud among the Republicans since his suspicious return from the Baltic in September last, but restored to command by the recent vote of the Parliament of the secluded members making him joint chief Admiral with Monk, he was at this moment (i.e. from March 23 onwards) in the Thames with his fleet, in receipt of daily orders from the Council and guarding the sea-passage between them and Flanders. He had on board with him, as his secretary, a certain young Mr. Samuel Pepys, who had been with him already in the Baltic, had been meanwhile in a clerkship in the Exchequer office, but had now left his house in Axe Yard, Westminster, and his young wife there, for the pleasure and emoluments of being once more secretary to so kind and great a master. In cabin talk with the trusty Pepys the Lord Admiral made no secret of his belief that the King would come in; but it was only by shrewd observations of what passed on board, and of the strange people that came and went, that Pepys then guessed what he afterwards knew to be the fact. "My Lord," as Pepys always affectionately calls his patron, was pledged to the King, and was managing most discreetly in his interest.[2]—But the power of Montague, as Commander-in-chief of the Navy only, was nothing in comparison with Monk's. How was Monk comporting himself? Most cautiously to the last. Though it was the policy of his biographers afterwards, and agreeable to himself, that his conduct from the date of his march out of Scotland should be represented as a slow and continuous working on towards the one end of the King's restoration, the truth seems to be that he clung to the notion of some kind of Commonwealth longer than most people, and made up his mind for the King only when circumstances absolutely compelled him. With the Army, or a great part of it, to back him, he might resist and impede the restoration of Charles; but, as things now were, could he prevent it ultimately? Why not himself manage the transaction, and reap the credit and advantages, rather than leave it to be managed by some one else and be himself among the ruined? That he had been later than others in sending Charles his adhesion was no matter. He had gained consequence by the very delay. He was no longer merely commander of an Army in Scotland, but centre and chief of all the Armies; he was worth more for Charles's purposes than all the others put together; and Charles knew it! So Monk had been reasoning for some time; and it was on the 17th of March, the day after the dissolution of the Parliament of the Secluded Members, that his ruminations had taken practical effect. Even then his way of committing himself was characteristic. His kinsman, Sir John Greenville, the same who had been commissioned to negotiate with him when he was in Scotland, was again the agent. With the utmost privacy, only Mr. Morrice being present as a third party, Monk had received Greenville at St. James's, acknowledged his Majesty's gracious messages, and given certain messages for his Majesty in return. He would not pen a line; Greenville was to convey the messages verbally. They included such recommendations to his Majesty as that he should smooth the way for his return by proclaiming a pardon and indemnity in as wide terms as possible, a guarantee of all sales and conveyances of lands under the Commonwealth, and a liberal measure of Religious Toleration; but the most immediate and practical of them all was that his Majesty should at once leave the Spanish dominions, take up his quarters at Breda, and date all his letters and proclamations thence. For the rest, as there were still many difficulties and might be slips, the agreement between his Majesty and Monk was to be kept profoundly secret.[3]

[Footnote 1: These two of the late public servants of Oliver—Downing his minister at the Hague, and Morland his envoy in the business of the Piedmontese massacre of 1655—had behaved most dishonourably. Both, for some months past, had been establishing friendly relations with Charles by actually betraying trusts they still held with the government of the Commonwealth—Morland by communicating papers and information which came into his possession confidentially in Thurloe's office (Clar. Hist. 869), and Downing by communicating the secrets of his embassy to Charles, and acting in his interests in that embassy, on guarantee that he should retain it, and have other rewards, when Charles came to the throne (Clar. Life, 1116-1117). There was to be farther proof that Downing was the meaner rascal of the two.]

[Footnote 2: Pepys's Diary, from beginning to April 11, 1660. Montague seems to have first positively and directly pledged himself to Charles in a letter of April 10, beginning "May it please your excellent Majesty,—From your Majesty's incomparable goodness and favour, I had the high honour to receive a letter from you when I was in the Sound last summer, and now another by the hands of my cousin" (Clar. State Papers). But the cousin had been already negotiating.]

[Footnote 3: Clarendon, 891-896; Thurloe, VII. 807-898; Skinner, 266-275; Phillips, 695-696.]

Over the seas went Greenville, as fast as ship could carry him, with the precious messages he bore. At Ostend, where he arrived on the 23rd of March, he reduced them to writing; and the next day, and for several days afterwards, Charles, Hyde, Ormond, and Secretary Nicholas, were in joyful consultation over them in Brussels. The advice of an instant removal to Breda fitted in with their own intentions. Neither the Spanish territory nor the French was a good ground from which to negotiate openly with England; nor indeed was Spanish territory quite safe for Charles at a time when, seeing his restoration possible, Spain might detain him as a hostage for the recovery of Dunkirk and Mardike. To Breda, accordingly, as Monk advised, the refugees went. They went in the most stealthy manner, and just in time to avoid being detained by the Spanish authorities. Before they reached Breda, however, but when Greenville could say that he had seen them safe within Dutch territory, he left them, to post back to England with a private letter to Monk in the King's own hand, enclosing a commission to the Captaincy-General of all his Majesty's forces, and with six other documents, which had been drafted by Hyde, and were all dated by anticipation "At Our Court at Breda, this 4/14th of April 1660, in the Twelfth Year of Our Reign." One was a public letter "To our trusty and well-beloved General Monk," to be by him communicated to the President and Council of State and to the Army officers; another was to the Speaker of the House of Commons in the coming Parliament; a third was a general "Declaration" for all England, Scotland, and Ireland; a fourth was a short letter to the House of Lords, should there be one; a fifth was for Admirals Monk and Montague, to be communicated to the Fleet; and the sixth was to the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Councilmen of the City of London. Besides the originals, copies of all were sent to Monk, that he might keep the originals unopened or suppress any of them.[1]

[Footnote 1: Clarendon, 896-902; Phillips, 696; Skinner, 276-280.]

It could be an affair now only of a few weeks, more or less. There, at Breda, was his swarthy, witty, good-humoured, utterly profligate and worthless, young Majesty, with his refugee courtiers round him; at home, over all Britain and Ireland, they were ready for him, longing for him, huzzahing for him, Monk and the Council managing silently in London; and between, as a moveable bridge, there was Montague and his fleet. When would the bridge move towards the Continent? That would depend on the newly-elected Parliament, which was to meet on the 25th. Could there be any mischance in the meantime?

It did not seem so. The late politicians of the Rump were dispersed and powerless. Hasilrig sat by himself in London, moaning "We are undone: we are undone"; Scott was in Buckinghamshire, if perchance they might elect him for Wycombe: Ludlow hid in Wiltshire and Somersetshire, also nominated for a seat, but careless about it; the rest absconded one knows not where. The "Fanatics," as the Republican Sectaries were now called collectively, were silenced and overwhelmed. Even Mr. Praise-God Barebone, tired of having his windows broken, was under written engagement to the Council to keep himself quiet. The same written engagement had been exacted from Hasilrig and Scott.—But what of the Army, the original maker of the Commonwealth, its defender and preserver through good report and bad report for eleven years, and with strength surely to maintain it yet, or make a stand in its behalf? The question is rather difficult. It may be granted that something of the general exhaustion, the fatigue and weariness of incessant change, the longing to be at rest by any means, had come upon the Army itself. Not the less true is it that Republicanism was yet the general creed of the Army, and that, could a universal vote have been taken through the regiments in England, Scotland, and Ireland, it would have kept out Charles Stuart. Nay, so engrained was the Republican feeling in the ranks of the soldiery, and so gloomily were they watching Monk, that, could any suitable proportion of them have been brought together, and could any fit leader have been present to hold up his sword for the Commonwealth, they would have rallied round him with acclamations. Precisely to prevent this, however, had been Monk's care. One remembers his advice from Scotland to Richard Cromwell nineteen months ago, when Richard was entering on his Protectorate. It was to cashier boldly. Not an officer in the Army, he had said, would have interest enough, if he were once cashiered, to draw two men after him in opposition to any existing Government. The very soul of Monk lies in that maxim, and he had been acting on it himself. Not only, as we have seen, had he reofficered his own army in Scotland with the utmost pains before venturing on his march into England; but, since his coming into England, he had still been discharging officers, and appointing or promoting others. He had done so while still conducting himself as the servant of the Restored Rump; and he had done so again very particularly after he had become Commander-in-chief for the Parliament of the Secluded Members. The consequence was most apparent in that portion of the Army which was more especially his own, consisting of the regiments he had brought from Scotland, and that were now round him in London. The officers—Knight, Read, Clobery, Hubblethorn, &c.—were all men accustomed to Monk, or of his latest choosing. His difficulty had been greater with the many dispersed regiments away from London, once Fleetwood's and Lambert's. Not only was there no bond of attachment between them and Monk; they were full of bitterness against him, as an interloper from Scotland who had put them to disgrace, and had turned some of them out of London to make room for his own men. But with these also Monk had taken his measures. Besides quartering them in the manner likeliest to prevent harm, he had done not a little among them too by discharges and new appointments. One of his own colonels, Charles Fairfax, had been left at York; Colonel Rich's regiment had been given to Ingoldsby; Walton's regiment to Viscount Howard; a Colonel Carter had been made Governor of Beaumaris, with command in Denbighshire; the Republican Overton had been removed from the Governorship of Hull; Mr. Morrice had been converted into a soldier, and made Governor of Plymouth; Dr. Clarges was Commissary General of the Musters for England, Scotland, and Ireland; and colonelcies were found for Montague, Rossiter, Sheffield, and Lord Falconbridge. When it is remembered that Fleetwood, Lambert, Desborough, Berry, Kelsay, and others of the old officers, Rumpers or Wallingford-House men, were already incapacitated, and either in prison or under parole to the Council of State, it will be seen that the English Army of April 1660 was no longer its former self. There were actually Royalists now among the colonels, men in negotiation with the King as Monk himself was. Still, if Monk and these colonels had even now gone before most of the regiments and announced openly that they meant to bring in the King, they would have been hooted or torn in pieces. Even in colloquies with the officers of his own London regiments Monk had to keep up the Republican phraseology. Suspicions having arisen among them, with meetings and agitations, his plan had been to calm them by general assurances, reminding them at the same time of that principle of the submission of the military to the civil authority which he and they had accepted. On this principle alone, and without a word implying desertion, of the Commonwealth, he prohibited any more meetings or agitations, and caused strict orders to that effect from the Council of State to be read at the head of every regiment. But an ingenious device of Clarges went further than such prohibitions. It was that as many of the officers as possible should be got to sign a declaration of their submission to the civil authority, not in general terms merely, but in the precise form of an engagement to agitate the question of Government no more among themselves, but abide the decision of the coming Parliament. Many who could not have been brought to declare for Charles Stuart directly could save their consciences by signing a document thus conditionally in his interest; and the device of Clarges was most successful. On the 9th of April a copy of the engagement signed by a large number of officers in or near London was in Monk's hands, and copies were out in England, Scotland, and Ireland, for additional signatures. As to the response from Scotland there could be little doubt. Morgan, the commander-in-chief in Scotland, had already reported the complete submission of the Army there to the order established by the Parliament of the Secluded Members. Only a single captain had been refractory, and he far away in the Orkneys. From Ireland, where Coote and Broghill were now managing, the report was nearly as good. Altogether, by the 9th of April, Monk could regard the Republicanism of the Army as but the stunned and paralysed belief of so many thousands of individual red-coats.—It was no otherwise with the Navy. Moored with his fleet in the Thames, or cruising with it beyond, Montague could assure Pepys in private that he knew most of his captains to be Republicans, and that he was not sure even of the captain of his own ship; and, studying a certain list which Montague had given him, Pepys could observe that the captains Montague was most anxious about were all or nearly all of the Anabaptist persuasion. Still there was no sign of concerted mutiny; and it was a great thing at such a time that Vice-Admiral Lawson, Montague's second in command, and the pre-eminent Republican of the whole Navy, had shown an example of obedience.[1]

[Footnote 1: Phillips, 694-698; Skinner, 263-265; Ludlow, 865-873; Whitlocke, IV. 405-406; Pepys's Diary, March 28-April 9.]

There was to be one dying flash for the Republic after all. Lambert had escaped from the Tower. It was on the night of April 9, the very day on which Monk was congratulating himself on the engagement of obedience signed by so many of his officers. For some days no one knew where the fugitive had gone, and Monk and the Council of State were in consternation. Proclamations against him were out, forbidding any to harbour him, and offering a reward for his capture. Meanwhile emissaries from Lambert were also out in all directions, to rouse his friends and bring them to a place of rendezvous in Northamptonshire. One of these emissaries, a Major Whitby, found Ludlow in Somersetshire, and delivered Lambert's message to him. Ludlow was not unwilling to join Lambert, but wanted to know more precisely what he declared for. With some passion, Whitby suggested that it was not a time to be asking what a man declared for; it was enough to know what he declared against. Ludlow demurred, and said it was always best to put forth a distinct political programme! He merely circulated the information; therefore, in Somersetshire and adjoining counties, and waited for further light. Along many roads, however, especially in the midland counties, others were straggling to the appointed rendezvous. Discharged soldiers, Anabaptists, Republican desperates of every kind, were flocking to Lambert.—Alas! before many of these could reach Lambert, it was all over. Hither and thither, wherever there were signs of disturbance, Monk had been despatching his most efficient officers; and, on the 18th of April, having received more exact information as to Lambert's whereabouts, he sent off Colonel Richard Ingoldsby to do his very best in that scene of action. There could not have been a happier choice. For this was honest Dick Ingoldsby, the Cromwellian, of whom his kinsman Richard Cromwell had said that, though he could neither preach nor pray, he could be trusted. He was also "Dick Ingoldsby, the Regicide," who had unfortunately signed the death-warrant of Charles I., to please Cromwell; and that recollection was a spur to him now. Since the abdication of Richard, he had been telling people that he would thenceforth serve the King and no one else, even though his Majesty, when he came home, would probably cut off his head. That consequence, however, was to be avoided if possible; and already, since the restoration of the secluded members, Ingoldsby had been doing whatever stroke of work for them might help towards earning his pardon. Now had come his most splendid opportunity, and he was not to let it slip.—On Sunday, the 22nd of April, being Easter Sunday, he came up with Lambert in Northamptonshire, about two miles from Daventry. Lambert had then but seven broken troops of horse, and one foot company; but Colonels Okey, Axtell, Cobbet, Major Creed, and several other important Republican ex-officers, were with him. Ingoldsby had brought his own horse regiment from Suffolk; Colonel Streater, with 500 men of a Northamptonshire foot-regiment, had joined him; the Royalist gentry round were sending in more horse; the country train-bands were up. The battle would be very unequal; was it worth while to fight? For some hours the two bodies stood facing each other, Lambert's in a ploughed field, with a little stream in his front, to which Ingoldsby rode up frequently, parleying with such of Lambert's troopers as were nearest, and so effectively as to bring some of them over. At last, Lambert showing no signs of surrender, Ingoldsby and Streater advanced, Ingoldsby ready to charge with his horse, but Streater marching the foot first with beat of drum to try the effect of a close approach. There was the prelude of a few shots, which hurt one or two of Lambert's troopers; but the orders were that the general fire should be reserved till the musketeers should see the pikemen already within push of the enemy. Then it was not necessary. Lambert's men had been wavering all the while; his troopers now turned the noses of their pistols downwards; one troop came off entire to Ingoldsby; the rest broke up and fled. But Lambert himself was Ingoldsby's mark. Dashing up to him, pistol in hand, he claimed him as his prisoner. There was a kind of scuffle, Creed and others imploring Ingoldsby to let Lambert go; and in the scuffle Lambert turned his horse and made off, Ingoldsby after him at full gallop. They were men of about the same age, neither over forty, but Ingoldsby the stouter and more fearless for a personal encounter. The two horses were abreast, or Ingoldsby's a little ahead, the rider turning round in his seat, with his pistol presented at Lambert, whom he swore he would shoot if he did not yield. Lambert pleaded yet a pitiful word or two, and then reined in and was taken.—On Tuesday, the 24th of April, Lambert was again in the Tower, with Cobbet, Creed, and other prisoners, though Okey and Axtell were not yet among them. There had been a great review of the City Militia that day in Hyde Park, at which the various regiments, red, white, green, blue, yellow, and orange, with the auxiliaries from the suburbs, made the magnificent muster of 12,000 men. The Parliament was to meet next day, and Monk and the Council of State had no farther anxiety. Among the measures they had taken after Lambert's escape had been an order that the engagement, already so generally signed by the Officers, pledging to agreement in whatever Parliament should prescribe as to the future form of government, should be tendered also to the private soldiers throughout the whole army. In the troops and companies of Fleetwood's old regiments, as many as a third of the soldiers, or in some cases a half, were leaving the ranks in consequence; but in Monk's own regiments from Scotland only two sturdy Republicans had stepped out.[1]

[Footnote 1: Phillips, 698-699; Skinner, 286-289; Ludlow, 873-877; Wood's Fasti, II. 133-134; Whitlocke, IV. 407-409; M. de Bordeaux to Mazarin, Guizot, II. 415.]

So sure was the Restoration of Charles now that the only difficulty was in restraining impatience and braggartism among the Royalists themselves. The last argument of the Republican pamphleteers having been that the Royalists would be implacable after they had got back the king, and that nothing was to be then expected but the bloodiest and severest revenges upon all who had been concerned with the Commonwealth, and some of the younger Royalists having given colour to such representations by their wild utterances in private, there had been printed protests to the contrary by leading Royalists in London and in many of the counties. They desired no revenges, they said; they reflected on the past as the mysterious course of an all-wise Providence; they were anxious for an amicable reunion of all in the path so wonderfully opened up by the wisdom and valour of General Monk; they utterly disowned the indiscreet expressions of fools and "hot-spirited persons"; and they would take no steps themselves, but would confide in Monk, the Council of State, and the Parliament, The London "declaration" to this effect was signed by ten earls, four viscounts, five lords, many baronets, knights, and squires, with several Anglican clergymen, among whom was Jeremy Taylor. It was of no small use to Monk, who had equally to be on his guard against too great haste. They were crowding round him now, and asking why there should be any more delay, why the king should not be brought to England at once. His one reply still was that the Parliament alone could decide what was to be done, and that he and others were bound to leave all to the Parliament. Meanwhile Sir John Greenville had been back from his mission for some time, and had duly delivered to Monk the important documents from Breda. Monk had kept Charles's private letter, but had given Greenville back all the rest, including his own commission to be his Majesty's Captain-General. Not a soul was to know of their existence till the moment when they should be produced in the Parliament.[1]

[Footnote 1: Phillips, 699-701; Skinner, 283-284 and 290-294; Clarendon, 902.]



CHAPTER II.

First Section.

MILTON'S LIFE AND SECRETARYSHIP THROUGH RICHARD'S PROTECTORATE: SEPT. 1658-MAY 1659.

MILTON AND MARVELL STILL IN THE LATIN SECRETARYSHIP: MILTON'S FIRST FIVE STATE-LETTERS FOR RICHARD (NOS. CXXXIII.-CXXXVII.): NEW EDITION OF MILTON'S DEFENSIO PRIMA: REMARKABLE POSTSRCIPT TO THAT EDITION: SIX MORE STATE-LETTERS FOR RICHARD (NOS. CXXXVIII.-CXLIII.): MILTON'S RELATIONS TO THE CONFLICT OF PARTIES ROUND RICHARD AND IN RICHARD'S PARLIAMENT: HIS PROBABLE CAREER BUT FOR HIS BLINDNESS: HIS CONTINUED CROMWELLIANISM IN POLITICS, BUT WITH STRONGER PRIVATE RESERVES, ESPECIALLY ON THE QUESTION OF AN ESTABLISHED CHURCH: HIS REPUTATION THAT OF A MAN OF THE COURT-PARTY AMONG THE PROTECTORATISTS: HIS TREATISE OF CIVIL POWER IN ECCLESIASTICAL CAUSES: ACCOUNT OF THE TREATISE, WITH EXTRACTS: THE TREATISE MORE THAN A PLEA FOR RELIGIOUS TOLERATION: CHURCH-DISESTABLISHMENT THE FUNDAMENTAL IDEA: THE TREATISE ADDRESSED TO RICHARD'S PARLIAMENT, AND CHIEFLY TO VANE AND THE REPUBLICANS THERE: NO EFFECT FROM IT: MILTON'S FOUR LAST STATE-LETTERS FOR RICHARD (NOS. CXLIV.-CXLVII.): HIS PRIVATE EPISTLE TO JEAN LABADIE, WITH ACCOUNT OF THAT PERSON: MILTON IN THE MONTH BETWEEN RICHARD'S DISSOLUTION OF HIS PARLIAMENT AND HIS FORMAL ABDICATION: HIS TWO STATE-LETTERS FOR THE RESTORED RUMP (NOS. CXLVIII.-CXLIX.).

Milton and Marvell continued together In the Latin Secretaryship through the Protectorate of Richard Cromwell, The following were the first Letters of Milton for Richard:—

(CXXXIII.) To Louis XIV. OF FRANCE, Sept. 5, 1658:—"Most serene and most potent King, Friend and Confederate: As my most serene Father, of glorious memory, Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, such being the will of Almighty God, has been, removed by death on the 3rd of September, I, his lawfully declared successor in this Government, though in the depth of sadness and grief, cannot but on the very first opportunity inform your Majesty by letter of so important a fact, assured that, as you have been a most cordial friend to my Father and this Commonwealth, the sudden intelligence will be no matter of joy to you either. It is my business now to request your Majesty to think of me as one who has nothing more resolvedly at heart than to cultivate with all fidelity and constancy the alliance and friendship that existed between my most glorious parent and your Majesty, and to keep and hold as valid, with the same diligence and goodwill as himself, the treaties, counsels, and arrangements, of common interest, which he established with you. To which intent I desire that our Ambassador at your Court [Lockhart] shall be invested with the same powers as formerly; and I beg that, whatever he may transact with you in our name, you will receive it as if done by myself. Finally, I wish your Majesty all prosperity.—From our Court at Westminster."

(CXXXIV.) To Cardinal Mazarin, Sept. [5], 1658:—Dispatched with the last, and to the same effect. Knowing the reciprocal esteem between his late Father and his Eminence, Richard cannot but write to his Eminence as well as to the King.

(CXXXV.) To Charles Gustavus, King of Sweden. October 1658:—"Most serene and most potent King, Friend and Confederate: As I think I cannot sufficiently imitate my father's excellence unless I cultivate and desire to retain the same friendships which he sought, and acquired by his worth, and regarded in his singular judgment as most deserving to be cultivated and retained, there is no reason for your Majesty to doubt that it will be my duty to conduct myself towards your Majesty with the same attentiveness and goodwill which my Father, of most serene memory, made his rule in his relations to you. Wherefore, although in this beginning of my Government and dignity I do not find our affairs in such a position that I can at present reply to certain heads which your agents have propounded for negotiation, yet the idea of continuing, and even more closely knitting, the treaty established with your Majesty by my Father is exceedingly agreeable to me; and, as soon as I shall have more fully understood the state of affairs on both sides, I shall indeed be always most ready, as far as I am concerned, for such arrangements as shall be thought most advantageous for the interests of both Commonwealths. Meanwhile may God long preserve your Majesty, to His own glory and for the guardianship and defence of the Orthodox Church."—The peculiar state of the relations between the Swedish King and the English Government is here to be remembered. The heroic Swede, by his sudden recommencement of war with Denmark, had brought a host of enemies again around him; and the question, just before Oliver's death, was whether Oliver would consider himself disobliged by the rupture of the Peace with Denmark, which had been mainly of his own making, or whether he would stand by his brother of Sweden and think him still in the right. That the second would have been Oliver's course there can be little doubt. The question had now descended to Richard and his Council. They were anxious to adhere to the foreign policy of the late Protector in the Swedish as in all other matters; but there were difficulties.

(CXXXVI. AND CXXXVII.) To CHARLES GUSTAVUS OF SWEDEN, Oct. 1659:—Two more letters to his Swedish Majesty, following close on the last:—(1) In the first, dated "Oct. 13," Richard acknowledges a letter received from the King of Sweden through his envoy in London, and also a letter from the King to Philip Meadows, the English Resident at the Swedish Court, which Meadows has transmitted. He is deeply sensible of his Swedish Majesty's kind expressions, both of sorrowing regard for his great father's memory, and of goodwill towards himself. There could not be a greater honour to him, or a greater encouragement in the beginning of his government, than the congratulations of such a King. "As respects the relations entered into between your Majesty and Us concerning the common cause of Protestants, I would have your Majesty believe that, since I succeeded to this government, though our Affairs are in such a state as to require the extreme of diligence, care, and vigilance, chiefly at home, yet I have had and still have nothing more sacredly or more deliberately in my mind than not to be wanting, to the utmost of my power, to the Treaty made by my father with your Majesty. I have therefore arranged for sending a fleet into the Baltic Sea, with those commands which our Internuncio [Meadows], whom we have most amply instructed for this whole business, will communicate to your Majesty." This was the fleet of Admiral Lawson, which did not actually put to sea till the following month, and was then wind-bound off the English coast. See ante p. 428; where it is also explained that Sir George Ayscough was to go out with Lawson, to enter the Swedish service as a volunteer.—(2) The other letter to Charles Gustavus, though dated "Oct." merely in the extant copies, was probably written on the same day as the foregoing, and was to introduce this Ayscough. "I send to your Majesty (and cannot send a present of greater worth or excellence) the truly distinguished and truly noble man, George Ayscough, Knight, not only famous and esteemed for his knowledge of war, especially naval war, as proved by his frequent and many brave performances, but also gifted with probity, modesty, ingenuity, and learning, dear to all for the sweetness of his manners, and, what is now the sum of all, eager to serve under the banners of your Majesty, so renowned over the whole world by your warlike prowess." A favourable reception is bespoken for Ayscough, who is to bring certain communications to his Majesty, and who, in any matters that may arise out of these, is to be taken as speaking for Richard himself. It was not till the beginning of the following year that Ayscough did arrive in the Baltic.

These five letters were undoubtedly the most important diplomatic dispatches of the beginning of Richard's Protectorate. They refer to the two most momentous foreign interests bequeathed from Oliver: viz. the French Alliance against Spain, and the entanglement in Northern Europe round the King of Sweden. Milton, as having written all the previous state-letters on these great subjects, was naturally required to be himself the writer of the five in which Richard announced to France and Sweden his resolution to continue the policy of his father. Marvell's pen may have been used, then and afterwards, for minor dispatches.

To the month of October 1658, the month after that of Oliver's death, belongs also a new edition of Milton's Defensio Prima. It was in octavo size, in close and clear type, and bore this title: "Joannis Miltonii, Angli, Pro Populo Anglicano Defensio contra Claudii Anonymi, alias Salmasii, Defensionem Regiam. Editio correctior et auctior, ab Autore denuo recognita. Londini, Typis Newcombianis, Anno Dom. 1658" (John Milton's Defence, &c. "Corrected and Enlarged Edition, newly revised by the Author" London: from Newcome's press, &c.).[1] This edition seems to have escaped the notice to which it is entitled. As far as my examination has gone, the differences from the original edition through the body of the work can be but slight. There is, however, a very important postscript of two pages, which I shall here translate:—

[Footnote 1: Thomason copy in British Museum, with the date "Octob." (no day) written on the title-page.]

"Having published this book, some years ago now [April 1651], in the hurried manner then required by the interests of the Commonwealth, but with the notion that, if ever I should have leisure to take it into my hands again, I might, as is customary, afterwards polish up something in it, or perchance cancel or add something, this I fancy I have now accomplished, though with fewer changes than I thought: a monument, as I see, whosoever has contrived it, not easily to perish. If there shall be found some one who will defend civil liberty more freely than here, yet certainly it will hardly be in a greater or more illustrious example; and truly, if the belief is that a deed of such arduous and famous example was not attempted and so prosperously finished without divine inspiration, there may be reason to think that the celebration and defence of the same with such applauses was also by the same aid and impulse,—an opinion I would much rather see entertained by all than have any other happiness of genius, judgment, or diligence, attributed to myself. Only this:—Just as that Roman Consul, laying down his magistracy, swore in public that the Commonwealth and that City were safe by his sole exertion, so I, now placing my last hand on this work, would dare assert, calling God and men to witness, that I have demonstrated in this book, and brought publicly forward out of the highest authors of divine and human wisdom, those very things by which I am confident that the English People have been sufficiently defended in this cause for their everlasting fame with posterity, and confident also that the generality of mankind, formerly deceived by foul ignorance of their own rights and a false semblance of Religion, have been, unless in as far as they may prefer and deserve slavery, sufficiently emancipated. And, as the universal Roman People, itself sworn in that public assembly, approved with one voice and consent that Consul's so great and so special oath, so I have for some time understood that not only all the best of my own countrymen, but all the best also of foreign men, sanction and approve this persuasion of mine by no silent vote over the whole world. Which highest fruit of my labours proposed for myself in this life I both gratefully enjoy and at the same time make it my chief thought how I may be best able to assure not only my own country, for which I have already done my utmost, but also the men of all nations whatever, and especially all of the Christian name, that the accomplishment of yet greater things, if I have the power—and I shall have the power, if God be gracious,—is meanwhile for their sakes my desire and meditation."

Perhaps one begins to be a little tired of this high-strained exultation for ever and ever on the subject of his success in the Salmasian controversy. The recurrence at this point, however, is not uninstructive. At the beginning of Richard's Protectorate, we can see Milton's defences of the English Republic were still regarded as the unparalleled literary achievements of the age, and Milton's European celebrity on account of them had not waned in the least. It was something for the blind man, seated by himself in his small home in Westminster, and sending his thoughts out over the world from which for six years now he had been so helplessly shut in, to know this fact, and to be able to imagine the continued recollection of him as still alive among the myriads moving in that vast darkness. This fruit of his past labours, he says, he would "gratefully enjoy," but with no vulgar satisfaction. He would not confess it even to be with any lingering in him now of the last infirmity of a noble mind. In his fiftieth year, and in his present state, he could feel himself superior to that, and could describe his consciousness as something higher. If he had done a great work already, as he himself believed, and as the voice of all the best of mankind acknowledged, had it not been because God had chosen and inspired him for the same, and might he not in that faith send out a message to the world that perhaps God had not yet done with him, and they might expect from him, blind and desolate though he was, something greater and better still? The closing sentence is exactly such a message, and one can suppose that Milton was there thinking of his progress in Paradise Lost.

Whatever was the amount of Marvell's exertion in the secretaryship, Milton was not wholly exempted from the duty of writing even the more ordinary letters for Richard and his Council. There is a vacant interval of three months, indeed, after the five last registered and the next; but in January 1658-9 the series is resumed, and there are six more letters of Milton for Richard between the end of that month and the end of February. Richard's Parliament, it is to be remembered, met on the 27th of January.

(CXXXVIII.) To CHARLES GUSTAVUS, KING OF SWEDEN, Jan. 27, 1658-9 (i.e. the day of the meeting of the Parliament):—Samuel Piggott, merchant of London, has complained to the Protector that two ships of his—the Post, Tiddy Jacob master, and the Water-dog, Garbrand Peters master—are detained somewhere in the Baltic by his Majesty's forces. They had sailed from London to France; thence to Amsterdam, where one had taken in ballast only, but the other a cargo of herrings, belonging in part to one Peter Heinsberg, a Dutchman; and, so laden, they had been bound for his Majesty's port of Stettin. Probably the Dutch ownership of part of the herring cargo was the cause of the detention of the ships; but Piggott was the lawful owner of the ships themselves and of the rest of the goods. His Majesty is prayed to restore them, and so save the poor man from ruin.

(CXXXIX.) To THE HIGH AND MIGHTY, THE STATES OF WEST FRIESLAND, Jan. 27, 1658-9:—A widow, named Mary Grinder, complains that Thomas Killigrew, a commander in the service of the States, has for eighteen years owed her a considerable sum of money, the compulsory payment of which he is trying now to evade by petitioning their Highnesses not to allow any suit against him in their Courts for debts due in England. "If I only mention to your Highnesses that she, whom this man tries to deprive of nearly all her fortunes, is a widow, that she is poor, the mother of many little children, I will not do you the injustice of supposing that with you, to whom I am confident the divine commandments, and especially those about not oppressing widows and the fatherless, are well known, any more serious argument will be needed against your granting this privilege of fraud to the man's petition."—The Thomas Killigrew here concerned may have been one of several well-known Killigrews, then refugee Royalists. Hence perhaps the earnestness of the letter.

(CXL.) To LOUIS XIV. OF FRANCE, Feb. 18, 1658-9:—"We have heard, and not without grief, that some Protestant churches in Provence were so scandalously interrupted by a certain ill-tempered bigot that the matter was thought worthy of severe notice by the magistrates of Grenoble, to whom the cognisance of the case belonged by law; but that a convention of the clergy, held shortly afterwards in, those parts, has obtained your Majesty's order that the whole affair shall be brought before your Royal Council in Paris, and that meanwhile, there being no decision there hitherto, these churches, and especially that of Aix, are prohibited from meeting for the worship of God." His Majesty is asked to remove this prohibition, and to see the author of the mischief properly censured. Such a missive proves that Richard and his Council kept to Oliver's rule of interference whenever there was persecution of Protestants, and also that they did not doubt their influence with Louis and Mazarin.

(CXLI.) To CARDINAL MAZARIN, Feb. 19, 1658-9:[1]—The Duchess-Dowager of Richmond, with her son, the young duke, is going into France, and means to reside there for some time. His Eminence is requested to show all possible attention to the illustrious lady and her son.

[Footnote 1: So dated in the Skinner Transcript, but "29 Feb." in Printed Collection and Phillips.]

(CXLII.) To CARDINAL MAZARIN, Feb. 22, 1658-9:[1]—About eight months ago the case of Peter Pett, "a man of singular probity, and of the highest utility to us and the Commonwealth by his remarkable skill in naval affairs," was brought before his Eminence by a letter of the late Lord Protector (not among Milton's letters). It was to request that his Eminence would see to the execution of a decree of his French Majesty's Council, as far back as Nov. 4, 1647, that compensation should be made to Pett for the seizure and sale of a ship of his, called the Edward, by one Bascon, in the preceding year. His Eminence has doubtless attended to the request; but there is still some impediment. Will his Eminence see where it lies and remove it?—Since the time of Queen Mary there had been three Peter Petts in succession, ship-builders and masters of the Royal Dockyard at Deptford; and the present Peter was the father of the more celebrated Sir Peter Pett, who was fellow of the Royal Society after the Restoration.

[Footnote 1: So dated in Printed Collection and in the Skinner Transcript; misdated "Feb. 25" in Phillips.]

(CXLIII.) To ALFONSO V., KING OF PORTUGAL, Feb. 23, 1658-9:[1]—Congratulations to his Portuguese Majesty upon a victory he had recently obtained over "our common enemy the Spaniard," with acknowledgment of his Majesty's handsome behaviour, through his Commissioners in London, in the matter of satisfaction, according to an article in the League between Portugal and the English Commonwealth, to those English merchants who had let out their vessels to the Brazil Company. But there is still one such merchant unpaid—a certain Alexander Bence, whose ship, The Three Brothers, John Wilks master, had made two voyages for the Company. They refuse to pay him, though they have fully paid others who had made but one voyage; and "why this is done I do not understand, unless it be that in their estimation a person is more worthy of his hire who has earned it once than one who has earned it twice." Will his Majesty see that Bence receives his due?

[Footnote 1: In the Printed Collection and Phillips, and also, I think, in the Skinner Transcript, the king's name is given as "John"; but John IV. of Portugal had died in 1656 and been succeeded by Alfonso.]

These six letters belong to the first month of Richard's Parliament, with its very large and freely elected House of Commons representing England, Scotland, and Ireland, and its anomalous addition or excrescence of another or Upper House, consisting of the two or three scores of recently-created Cromwellian "Lords." The battle between the Republicans and the Protectoratists had begun in the Commons, Thurloe ably leading there for the Protectoratists; the Republicans had been beaten on the first great question by the recognition of the Single-Person principle and of Richard's title to the Protectorship; and the House had gone on to the question of the continued existence and functions of the other House, with every prospect that the Cromwillians would beat the Republicans on that question too. From January to April, not only in the Parliament, but also over the country at large, the all-engrossing interest, as we know, was this controversy between pure old Republicanism, desiring neither single sovereignty nor aristocracy, and that more conservative form of Commonwealth which had been set up by the Oliverian constitution. Over the country, no less than in the Parliament, the conservative policy was in favour, and the Cromwellians or Protectoratists, among whom the Presbyterians now ranked themselves, were far more numerous than the old Republicans. Royalism, or at least Stuart Royalism, was at its lowest ebb. Many that had been Royalists heretofore had accepted the constitutionalized Protectorate as the best substitute for Royalty that circumstances allowed, and saw no course left them but to cooperate with the majority of their countrymen in confirming Richard's rule.

How Milton stood related to this controversy is a matter rather of inference than of direct information. Having been a faithful adherent and official of Oliver through his whole Protectorate, and still holding his official place under Richard's Government, there is little doubt that, if he had been obliged to post himself publicly on either of the two sides, he would have gone among the Cromwellians. Nay, if he had been obliged to choose between the two subdivisions of this body, known as the Court Party (supporting Richard absolutely) and the Wallingford-House Party (supporting Richard's civil Protectorate, but wanting to transfer the military power to the Army-chiefs), there can be little doubt that he would have gone with the former. Had he been in the House of Commons, like his colleague Andrew Marvell, his duty there, like Marvell's, would have been that of a ministerial member, assisting Thurloe and voting with him in all the divisions. But for his blindness, we may here say, the chances are that he would long ere now have been a known Parliamentary man, and that, after having been a Cromwellian leader in Oliver's second Parliament, he might have been now in Thurloe's exact place in Richard's present Parliament, or beside Thurloe as a strangely different chief. This, or that other alternative of a foreign ambassadorship or residency, which must have suggested itself again and again to the reader in the course of our narrative, might have been the natural career of Milton through the rule of the Cromwells, had not blindness disabled him. For, if Meadows, his former mere assistant in the Foreign Secretaryship, had been for some time in the one career with increasing distinction, and if an opening had been easily found for Marvell in the other, why may not imagination trace either career, or a combination of the two, had physical infirmity not prevented, for the greater Cromwellian of whom these were but satellites? It is imagination only, and would not be worth while, were it not for one important biographical question which it brings forward. Had Milton remained capable of any such practical career under the Cromwells, would he have retained, to the same extent as he had done through his blindness, the necessary qualification of being an Oliverian or Cromwellian? How far was his present Cromwellianism the actual consequence of his blindness, the mere submissiveness of a blind man to what he had no power to disturb? It is partly an answer to this question to remember again his Defensio Secunda of 1654, with its great panegyric on Cromwell. Milton had been but two years blind when that was published, and had not lost aught of the vehemence of his Republican convictions. Not without deliberation, therefore, had he given up the first form of the Commonwealth, consisting in a single supreme House of Parliament and an annual Council of State chosen by the same, and accepted the later or Protectoral form, with Cromwell for its head, a permanent Council of State round Cromwell, and Parliaments on occasion. But, underneath this general adhesion to the Protectorate, there had been even then certain Miltonic reserves, and especially the reserve of a protest against the continuance of a State Church. Now, had Milton been in a condition to act the part of a practical statesman through Oliver's Protectorate, might not some extraordinary development have been given to those reserves? With his boundless courage and the non-conforming habits of his genius, would he ever have been the Parliamentary servant of a Government from which he differed at all,—from which he differed so vitally on the question of Church Establishment? Probably in nothing else had Cromwell wholly disappointed him. Through the Protectorate there had been all the toleration of religious differences that could be desired, or what shortcoming there had been had hardly been by Cromwell's own fault; the other interferences with liberty had hardly perhaps, in Milton's estimation, gone beyond the necessities of police; and in Cromwell's foreign policy, with its magnificent championship of Protestantism abroad, what man in England was more ardently at one with him than the draftsman of his great foreign despatches? At the time of the proposal of Cromwell's Kingship, and generally at the time of the transition out of his first Protectorate into his second, with the resuscitation then of so many aristocratic forms and the attempt to reinstitute a house of peers, there may have been, as we have already hinted, an uprising in Milton's mind of democratic objections, and the effect may have been that Milton before the end of Oliver's Protectorate was less of an Oliverian than he had been at the beginning. Still, precluded from any active concern in those constitutional changes, he may have reconciled himself to them easily enough, and also to the transmission of the Protectorship from Oliver to Richard. The one insuperable stumbling-block, I believe, had been and was Cromwell's Established Church. Even in his blindness he could theorize on that, and stiffen himself more and more in his intense Religious Voluntaryism, Conscious of his irreconcileable dissent from Cromwell's policy in this great matter, and knowing that Cromwell was aware of the fact, it may have been a satisfaction to him that he was not called upon to act a Parliamentary part, in which proclamation of the dissent and consequent rupture with Cromwell on the ecclesiastical question would have been inevitable. It may have been some satisfaction to him that he could go on faithfully and honestly as a servant of Cromwell in the special business of the Latin Secretaryship, and for the rest be a lonely thinker and take refuge in silence. It is worth observing, indeed, that nothing of a political kind had come from Milton's pen during the last three or four years of Oliver's Protectorate,—nothing even indirectly bearing on the internal politics of the Commonwealth since his Pro Se Defensio against Morus in 1655, and nothing directly bearing thereon since his Defensio Secunda of 1654. And so, if we conclude this inquiry by saying that, at the time of Richard's accession and the meeting of his Parliament, Milton was still a Cromwellian, but a Cromwellian with the old Miltonic reserves, and these strengthened of late rather than weakened, we shall be about right. To the public, however, in the present controversy between the Protectoratists and the pure Republicans, he was distinctly a Protectoratist, a Cromwellian, one of the Court-party, an official of Richard and his Council.

Since Cromwell's death, we have now to add, Milton had been re-mustering his reserves. Under a new Protector, and from the new Parliament of that new Protector, might he not have a hearing on points on which he had for some time been silent? On this chance, he had interrupted even his Paradise Lost, in order to prepare an address to the new Parliament. As might be expected, it was on the subject of the relations of Church and State. Meditating on this subject, and how it might be best treated practically at such a time, Milton, had concluded that it might be broken into two parts. "Two things there be which have been ever found working much mischief to the Church of God and the advancement of Faith,—Force on the one side restraining, and Hire on the other side corrupting, the Teachers thereof." He would, therefore, write one tract on the effects of Compulsion or State-restraint in matters of Religion and Speculation, and another on the effects of Hire or State-endowments in the same. The two would be interconnected, and would in fact melt into each other; but they might appear separately, and it might be well to begin with the first, as the least irritating. Accordingly, before the meeting of the Parliament he had prepared, and after it had met there was published, in the form of a very tiny octavo, a tract with this title-page: "A Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes: Shewing that it is not lawfull for any power on Earth to compell in matters of Religion. The author J.M. London, Printed by Tho. Newcomb, Anno 1659." The tract consists of an address "To the Parlament of the Commonwealth of England with the Dominions thereof," occupying ten of the small pages, and signed "John Milton" in full, and then of eighty-three pages of text.[1]