demned, by the constitution. This, which was the work of James alone, demands the deepest attention, and ought to be remembered for ever! James died contemptible to friends and foes; but the evil that he did lived after him. Charles I. was a better man in some respects than his father; but possessed, unfortunately, with just that spirit of pride and obstinacy, which could scarcely fail to lead him on to that desperate consummation of folly which he at length reached. He persisted in mistaking a court-faction for a national party; he outwent all former precedents, even of his father's reign, and publicly declared his intention of ruling without Parliaments, because the Parliaments he called refused to betray their country. He succeeded in this plan for eleven years; and, if Laud and Strafford had not been his friends, he might, perhaps, have continued it longer. But the intemperance of the one, and the tyranny of the other, frustrated this hopeful project; various views, various hopes, and various necessities at length once more compelled the summoning of a Parliament in 1640; the conduct of which is a deep theme of painful meditation, and which ought to be a high and mighty document to be remembered for ever by kings, and churchmen, and people! A better cause than that of the Parliament, at its commencement, there could not be; profounder heads and braver hearts to maintain it were not wanted. It was literally the cause of the whole nation constitutionally argued against the king as an individual, and a coterie of courtiers and chaplains. At the first Session of the House of Commons, there was not a single voice raised even in palliation of the misdemeanours of the executive government; the representatives of the people were as one man. Some of those who afterwards lost their lives for Charles were amongst the most distinguished speakers and movers, in laying open the accumulated grievances of the kingdom: Lord Digby's speech is upon record. Nothing ever exceeded-once only has a Parliament equalled-the gravity and deliberation of the two Houses in their early proceedings. Grievance after grievance, abuse after abuse, fell with a touch: the maxims of the constitution were vindicated from absurd glosses, and liberticides in church and state were exposed and punished.-Why did a morning so bright and clear end in an evening of storm and tempest?Why did a King and Parliament, professing patriotism, deluge their country with civil blood, and hack and mutilate the constitution, which they mutually swore they were defending, till it fell lifeless and prostrate at the feet of a military usurper? VOL. II. PART I. I A great question opens before us, but our limits imperiously bid us conclude; at another time this subject may perhaps be pursued. It is, in its nature, copious, and cannot be dispatched in a sentence without injustice. The lapse of nearly two centuries should suggest the necessity of caution, and a close examination of evidence; for of all the temptations which beset the path of a writer, or reader of history, there is none so constant and so insidious as the passion of imputing motives, where we happen from other reasons to dislike the conduct of the parties. We grieve, indeed, that the Parliament should have done any thing which could drive from its councils the gifted Digby, the virtuous Falkland, the immortal Clarendon; but shall we, therefore, immediately condemn those who remained? Essex and Brook, Pym and Vane, Selden and Hampden,that monarch of letters,' and that superior pattern of an English gentleman? If names can justify a cause, these should seem enough for a worse one than that of the Parliament. It is a suspicious sign of the present times, of the want of true old English feeling, and the prevalence of a vague cosmopolitan philanthropy so very conspicuous in many of our most eminent men, that the great worthies of our history are so seldom mentioned, so slightly treated; whilst any bloody ruffian of Fructidor or Vendemiaire is upheld as a champion of liberty, or a martyr for truth. Yet no cause should be judged merely by its advocates; for it may easily happen that the cause may be better than the defender, or the defenders blameless, though their cause were founded in error. 6 J. H. 115 LA BELLE TRYAMOUR. CANTO III. "Who art thou, pretty one, that usurp'st the place I. ARE you a poet, reader?—if you are, This world's best hopes, in thankless slavery II. You'd better turn cosmopolite-or pandar- Be any thing that's base, or mean, or dull- III. Why I give this advice is not the question; And though my words are coarse, my meaning's kind;Perhaps I'm rather hipp'd from indigestion, Which proves, at least, that (though a bard) I've dined— But to return-do any thing you will But dream of reaching the Castalian rill. IV. That is, unless you've blood, and wind, and mettle, And constant training, and five feeds a day— May snap his fingers at the dense array Of stupid heads, cold hearts, and adverse fortune, V. Go-if you can; for poesy's sweet sake up your VI. Make Because you've felt more deeply than you should- VII. Only don't half and half it—be a poet Complete, or not at all-the Muse is chary On wooers scarce lukewarm, or prone to vary; VIII. For my part, I can't do it, and I couldn't Were I ten poets-neither heart nor head And, therefore, I'm determined to retire IX. This is of small importance; but I know And make them feel (the blockheads) that they're doing X. Up! W*****!--where the deuce have you been dozing For shame--for shame,--if you'd preserve your credit, XI. The world imagines, (but the world's an ass) |