could be pleaded in bar of an impeachment by the commons of England.(1) The lords seemed at first to adhere to the pardon, but yielded at last to the violence of the commons and Danby, after absconding for a time, surrendered to the black rod, and was committed to the tower.

Charles, in order to sooth the commons, made a show of changing his measures. Several popular leaders of both houses were admitted into the privy council; particularly, sir Henry Capel, lord Russel, the earl of Shaftesbury, and the viscounts Halifax and Fauconberg, who had distinguished themselves by their opposition to the court. The earl of Essex, a popular nobleman, was advanced to the head of the treasury, in the room of the earl of Danby; and the earl of Sunderland, a man every way qualified for such an office, was made secretary of state.

By thus placing the most violent patriots, either real or pretended, in his service, the king hoped to regain the affections of his parliament. But he was miserably disappointed. The commons received his declaration of a new council with the greatest indifference and coldness, believing the whole to be a trick in order to obtain money, or an artifice to induce the country party to drop their pursuit of grievances, by disarming with offices the violence of their leaders. They therefore continued their deliberations with unabating zeal; and resolved, without one dissenting voice, “that the duke of York being a papist, and the hopes of his coming, as such, to the crown, has given the greatest countenance and encouragement to the plots against the king and the Protestant religion."(2)

This being considered as an introductory step to the eventual exclusion of the duke from the throne, Charles, in order to prevent such a bold measure, laid before the parliament certain limitations, which, without altering the succession to the crown, he thought sufficient to secure the civil and religious liberties of the subject. The limitations proposed were very important: they deprived a popish successor of the right of bestowing ecclesiastical promotions, and of either appointing or displacing privy counsellors or judges, without the consent of parliament. The same precaution was extended to the military part of the government; to the lord-lieutenants and deputy lieutenants of counties, and to all officers of the navy.(3)

These ample concessions, which in a manner annihilated the power of the crown, were rejected with contempt by the commons. They brought in a bill for the total exclusion of the duke of York, and they continued their prosecution against Danby. They resolved that the pardon which he claimed was illegal and void; and, after some conferences with the lords on the subject, a day was fixed for his trial. Preparations were also made for the trial of the popish lords in the tower.

In the mean time, a furious dispute arose between the two houses, occasioned by a resolution of the commons, "that the lords spiritual ought not to have any vote in any proceedings against the lords in the tower."(4) This resolution involved a question of no small importance, and was of peculiar consequence in the present ease. Though the bishops were anciently prohibited by the canon law, and afterward by established custom, from assisting at capital trials, they generally sat and voted in motions preparatory to such trials. The validity of Danby's pardon was first to be debated; and, although but a preliminary, was the hinge on which the whole must turn. The commons, therefore, insisted upon excluding the bishops, whom they knew to be devoted to the court: the lords were unwilling to make any alteration in the forms of their judicature: both houses adhered to their respective pretensions; and Charles took advantage of their quarrels, first to prorogue, and

(1) The prerogative of mercy had been hitherto understood to be altogether unlimited in the crown; so that this pretension of the commons was perfectly new. It was not, however, unsuitable to the genius of a monarchy strictly limited; where the king's ministers are supposed to be accountable to the national assembly, even for such abuses of power as they may commit by orders from their master. (3) Id. ibid. May 10.

(2) Journals, April 27, 1679.

(4) Id. ibid. May 17.

then to dissolve the parliament; setting aside, by that measure, the trial of his minister, and, for a time, the bill of exclusion against his brother.(1)

Though this parliament, my dear Philip, is reprehensible on account of its violence and its credulity; and although some of its members seem to have been actuated by a spirit of party and a strong antipathy against the royal family, while others were influenced by the money of France or the intrigues of the prince of Orange, the greater number were animated by a real spirit of patriotism, by an honest zeal for their civil and religious liberties. Of this the exclusion bill and the Habeas Corpus act are sufficient proofs. The latter, which particularly distinguishes the English constitution, can never be too much applauded.

The personal liberty of individuals is a property of human nature, which nothing but the certainty of a crime committed ought ever to abridge or restrain. The English nation had, accordingly, very early and repeatedly, as we have seen, secured by public acts this valuable part of their rights as men; yet something was still wanting to render personal freedom complete, and prevent evasion or delay from ministers and judges. The act of Habeas Corpus, passed last session, answered all these purposes, and does equal honour to the patriotism and the penetration of those who framed it and carried it into a law. This act prohibits the sending of any English subject to a prison beyond sea; and it provides, that no judge shall refuse to any prisoner a writ, by which the jailer is directed to produce in court the body of such prisoner, and to certify the cause of his detainer and commitment.

The general rage against popery, and the success of the country party in the English parliament, raised the spirit of the Scottish covenanters, and gave new life to their hopes. Their conventicles, to which they went armed, became more frequent and numerous; and though they never acted offensively, they frequently repelled the troops sent to disperse them. But even this small degree of moderation could not long be preserved by a set of wild enthusiasts, who thought every thing lawful for the support of their godly cause; who were driven to madness by the oppressions of a tyrannical government, and flattered, by their friends in England, with the prospect of relief from their troubles. A barbarous violence increased the load of their calamities. Sharpe, archbishop of St Andrews, was deservedly obnoxious to the covenanters. Having been deputed by the Scottish clergy, at the restoration, to manage their interests with the king, he had betrayed them. He soon after openly abandoned the presbyterian party; and when episcopacy was established in Scotland, his apostacy was rewarded with the dignity of primate. To him was chiefly intrusted the conduct of ecclesiastical affairs; and, in order to recommend himself to the court, he persecuted the covenanters, or non-conformists, with unrelenting rigour. It was impossible for human beings to suffer so many injuries, without being stimulated against their author by the keenest emotions of indignation and revenge. A band of desperate fanatics, farther influenced by the hope of doing an acceptable service to heaven, waylaid the archbishop in the neighbourhood of St. Andrews; and, after firing into his coach, despatched him with many wounds.(2)

This atrocious action furnished the ministry with a pretext for a more severe persecution of the covenanters, on whom, without distinction, they threw the guilt of the murder of Sharpe. The troops quartered in the western counties received orders to disperse, by force, all conventicles, wherever they should be found. This severity obliged the covenanters to assemble in large bodies; and their success in repelling the king's forces emboldened them to set forth a declaration against episcopacy, and publicly to burn the acts of parliament which had established that mode of ecclesiastical government in Scotland. They took possession of Glasgow, and established a kind of preaching camp in the neighbourhood; whence they issued proclamations, declaring that they fought against the king's supremacy in religious matters, against popery, prelacy, and a popish successor.(3)

(1) Danby and the popish lords, Stafford excepted, whose fate I shall have occasion to relate, after lying in the tower till 1684, were admitted to bail on petition. (2) Burnet, vol. ii. Wodrow, vol. ii. (3) Id. ibid.

Charles, alarmed at this insurrection, despatched the duke of Monmouth, with a body of English cavalry, to join the royal army in Scotland, and subdue the fanatics. Monmouth came up with the covenanters at Bothwellbridge, between Glasgow and Hamilton, where a rout rather than a battle ensued, and the insurgents were totally dispersed. About seven hundred of these persecuted and misguided men fell in the pursuit, and twelve hundred were made prisoners. But, the execution of two clergymen excepted, this was all the blood that was shed. Monmouth used his victory with great moderation. Such prisoners, as would promise to live peaceably in future, were dismissed.

That lenity, however, unfortunately awakened the jealousy of the court; Monmouth was recalled and disgraced; and the duke of York, who had found a pretence to return to England, was intrusted with the government of Scotland. Under his administration, the covenanters were exposed to a cruel persecution; and such punishments were inflicted upon them, even on frivolous pretences, as make humanity shudder, and would disfigure the character of any prince less marked with severities than that of James. He is said to have been frequently present at the torturing of the unhappy criminals, and to have viewed their sufferings with as much unfeeling attention, as if he had been contemplating some curious experiment.(1)

While these things were passing in Scotland, a new parliament was assembled in England, where the spirit of party still raged with unabated fury. Instead of Petitioners and Abhorrers (or those who applied for redress of grievances, and such as opposed their petitions), into which the nation had been for some time divided, the court and country parties came now to be distinguished by the still prevailing epithets of WHIG and TORY. The court party reproached their antagonists with their affinity to the fanatical conventicles in Scotland, who were known by the name of Whigs; and the country party pretended to find a resemblance between the courtiers and the popish banditti in Ireland, to whom the appellation of Tory was affixed.(2) Such was the origin of those party-names, which will, in all probability, continue to the latest posterity.,

The new parliament discovered no less violence than the former. The commons voted, that it is the undoubted right of the subjects of England to petition the king for the sitting of parliament and the redress of grievances; and they resolved, that to traduce such petitioning is to betray the liberty of the people, to contribute to subvert the ancient constitution, and to introduce arbitrary power. They renewed the vote of their predecessors, laying the whole blame of the popish plot on the religion of the duke of York; and they brought in a bill for excluding him from the throne. This bill was passed after a warm debate, and carried up to the house of peers; where Shaftesbury and Sunderland argued powerfully for it, and Halifax no less strenuously against it. Through the forcible reasoning of the latter, who discovered an extent of abilities and a flow of eloquence which had never been exceeded in the English parliament, the bill was rejected by a considerable majority of the lords.(3)

Enraged at this disappointment, the commons discovered their ill humour in many violent and unjustifiable proceedings. They prosecuted the abhorrers; they impeached the judges, and they persecuted all the most intimate friends of the duke of York. At last they revived the impeachment of the popish lords in the tower, and singled out the viscount Stafford as their victim. He was accordingly brought to trial; and, although labouring under age and infirmities, he defended himself with great firmness and presence of mind, exhibiting the most striking proofs of his innocence. Yet, to the astonishment of all unprejudiced men, he was condemned by a majority of twenty-four voices. He received with surprise, but resignation, the fatal verdict; and the people, who had exulted over his conviction, were softened into

(1) Burnet, vol. ii This account of the apathy of James is confined by his letters in Dalrymple's Appen. part i. (2) Burnet, vol ii Hume, vol viii. (3 d. ibid. James II. 1680

tears at his execution, by the venerable simplicity of his appearance. He continued on the scaffold to make earnest protestations of his innocence, and expressed a hope that the present delusion would soon be over. A silent assent to his asseverations was observed through the vast multitude of weep ing spectators; while some cried, in a faltering accent, "We believe you, my lord!" The executioner himself was touched with the general sympathy. Twice did he suspend the blow, after raising the fatal axe; and when at last, by a third effort, he severed that nobleman's head from his body, all the spectators seemed to feel the stroke.(1)

The execution of Stafford opened, in some measure, the eyes of the nation, but did not diminish the violence of the commons. They still hoped, that the king's urgent necessities would oblige him to throw himself wholly upon their generosity. They therefore brought in a bill for an association to prevent the duke of York, or any papist, from succeeding to the crown; and they voted, that whoever had advised his majesty to refuse the exclusion bill were enemies to the king and kingdom. Nor did they stop here. They resolved, that until a bill to exclude the duke of York should pass, the commons could grant the king no supply, without betraying the trust reposed in them by their constituents. And that Charles might not be enabled, by any other expedient, to support the government, and preserve himself independent, they farther resolved, that whoever should thereafter advance money on the customs, excise, or hearth money; or whoever should accept or buy any tally of anticipation upon any part of the king's revenue, should be adjudged to hinder the sitting of parliament, and become responsible for his conduct at the bar of the house of commons.(2)

Having got intelligence of these violent proceedings, Charles came to a resolution to prorogue the parliament; for although he was sensible, that the peers, who had rejected the exclusion bill, would still continue to defend the throne, he saw no hope of bringing the commons to any better temper, and was persuaded that their farther sitting could only serve to keep faction alive, and to perpetuate the general ferment of the nation. When they received information of his design, they resolved, that whoever advised his majesty to prorogue his parliament, for any other purpose than to pass the bill of exclusion, was a betrayer of the king, an enemy to the Protestant religion and to the kingdom of England, a promoter of the French interest, and a pensioner of France. (3) This furious resolution, and others of the same nature, determined the king instantly to dissolve the parliament, instead of proroguing it. Both parties had now carried matters so far, that a civil war seemed inevitable, unless the king, contrary to his fixed resolution of not interrupting the line of succession, should agree to pass the bill of exclusion. Charles saw his danger, and was prepared to meet it. A variety of circumstances, however, conspired to preserve the nation from that extremity, and to fling the whole powers of government finally into the hands of the king.

The PERSONAL. CHARACTER of Charles, who, to use the words of one who knew him well, with great quickness of conception, pleasantness of wit, and variety of knowledge, "had not a grain of pride or vanity in his whole composition,"(4) had always rendered him the idol of the populace. The most affable, best bred man alive, he treated his subjects like noblemen, like gentlemen, like freemen; not like vassals or boors. His professions were plausible, and his whole behaviour engaging; so that he won upon the hearts, even while he lost the good opinion of his subjects; and often balanced their judgment of things by their personal inclination.(5)

These qualities, and this part of his conduct, went a great way to give the king hold of the affections of his people. But these were not all. In his public conduct, too, he studied and even obtained a degree of popularity; for although he often embraced measures inconsistent with the political interests of the nation, and sometimes dangerous to the liberty and religion of his sub

(1) Burnet, vol. ii. Hume, vol viii.

(3) Ibid. Jan. 10, 1681.

Bolingbroke, Dissertation on Parties.

(2) Journals, Dec. 1680, and Jan. 1681. (4) Sir William Temple.

jects, he had never been found to persevere obstinately in them, but had always returned into that path which the general opinion seemed to point out to him. And, as a farther excuse, his worst measures were all ascribed to the bigotry and arbitrary principles of his brother. If he had been obstinate in denying, to the voice of his commons, the bill of exclusion, he had declared himself ready to pass any other bill, that might be deemed necessary to secure the civil and religious liberties of his people during the reign of a popish successor, provided it did not tend to alter the descent of the crown in the true line. This, by the nation at large, was thought no unreasonable concession; and, if accepted, would have effectually separated the king from the duke of York, unless he had changed his religion, instead of uniting them together by a fear made common to both. But the die was thrown; and the leaders of the whig party were resolved to hazard all, rather than hearken to any thing short of absolute exclusion.(1)

This violence of the commons increased the number of the king's friends among the people. And he did not fail to take advantage of such a fortunate circumstance, in order to strengthen his authority, and to disconcert the designs of his enemies. He represented to the zealous abettors of episcopacy, the multitude of presbyterians and other sectaries who had entered into the whig party, both in and out of parliament; the encouragement and favour they met with, and the loudness of their clamours against popery and arbitrary power; which, he insinuated, were intended only to divert the attention of the more moderate and intelligent part of the kingdom from their republican and fanatical views. By these means, he made the nobility and clergy apprehend, that the whole scheme for the abolition of the church and monarchy was revived; and that the same miseries and oppressions awaited them, to which they had been so long exposed during the former, and yet recent usurpations of the commons.

The memory of these melancholy times also united many cool and unprejudiced persons to the crown, and begot a dread lest the zeal for civil liberty should engraft itself once more on religious enthusiasm, and deluge the nation in blood. The king himself seemed not to be totally free from such apprehensions. He therefore ordered the new parliament to assemble at Oxford, that the whig party might be deprived of all that encouragement and support, which they might otherwise derive from the vicinity of the great and factious city of London. The party themselves afforded a striking proof of the justice of the king's fears. Sixteen peers, all violent exclusionists, with the duke of Monmouth at their head, presented a petition against the sitting of the parliament at Oxford; "where the two houses," they said, "could not deliberate in safety; but would be exposed to the swords of the papists and their adherents, of whom too many had crept into his majesty's guards."(2) These insinuations, which so evidently pointed at Charles himself, were thrown out merely to inflame the people, not to persuade the king of the terror of the parliament; and, instead of altering his resolution, they served only to confirm him in the propriety of it.

In assembling a new parliament, so soon as two months after the dissolution of the former, Charles had little expectation of meeting with a more favourable disposition in the commons. But he was desirous to demonstrate his willingness to meet that national assembly; hoping, if every method of accommodation should fail, that he would be the better enabled to justify himself to the mass of his people, in coming to a final breach with the representative body. The commons, on their part, might readily have perceived, from the place where they were ordered to meet, that the king was determined to act with firmness. But they still flattered themselves, that his urgent necessities and his love of ease would ultimately make him yield to their vehemence. They therefore filled the whole kingdom with tumult and noise. The elections went every where against the court; and the popular leaders, armed, and confident of victory, came to Oxford attended by numerous bands of their

(1) Burnet, vol. ii.

(2) Kennet, vol. iii. James II. 1681.