The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1 by Thomas Babington Macaulay (diy ebook reader .txt) π
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He had been compelled to give
reluctant attendance at endless prayers and sermons, and might
think himself fortunate when he was not insolently reminded from
the pulpit of his own frailties, of his father's tyranny, and of
his mother's idolatry. Indeed he had been so miserable during
this part of his life that the defeat which made him again a
wanderer might be regarded as a deliverance rather than as a
calamity. Under the influence of such feelings as these Charles
was desirous to depress the party which had resisted his father.
The King's brother, James Duke of York, took the same side.
Though a libertine, James was diligent, methodical, and fond of
authority and business. His understanding was singularly slow and
narrow, and his temper obstinate, harsh, and unforgiving. That
such a prince should have looked with no good will on the free
institutions of England, and on the party which was peculiarly
zealous for those institutions, can excite no surprise. As yet
the Duke professed himself a member of the Anglican Church but he
had already shown inclinations which had seriously alarmed good
Protestants.
The person on whom devolved at this time the greatest part of the
labour of governing was Edward Hyde, Chancellor of the realm, who
was soon created Earl of Clarendon. The respect which we justly
feel for Clarendon as a writer must not blind us to the faults
which he committed as a statesman. Some of those faults, however,
are explained and excused by the unfortunate position in which he
stood. He had, during the first year of the Long Parliament, been
honourably distinguished among the senators who laboured to
redress the grievances of the nation. One of the most odious of
those grievances, the Council of York, had been removed in
consequence chiefly of his exertions. When the great schism took
place, when the reforming party and the conservative party first
appeared marshalled against each other, he, with many wise and
good men, took the conservative side. He thenceforward followed
the fortunes of the court, enjoyed as large a share of the
confidence of Charles the First as the reserved nature and
tortuous policy of that prince allowed to any minister, and
subsequently shared the exile and directed the political conduct
of Charles the Second. At the Restoration Hyde became chief
minister. In a few months it was announced that he was closely
related by affinity to the royal house. His daughter had become,
by a secret marriage, Duchess of York. His grandchildren might
perhaps wear the crown. He was raised by this illustrious
connection over the heads of the old nobility of the land, and
was for a time supposed to be allpowerful. In some respects he
was well fitted for his great place. No man wrote abler state
papers. No man spoke with more weight and dignity in Council and
in Parliament. No man was better acquainted with general maxims
of statecraft. No man observed the varieties of character with a
more discriminating eye. It must be added that he had a strong
sense of moral and religious obligation, a sincere reverence for
the laws of his country, and a conscientious regard for the
honour and interest of the Crown. But his temper was sour,
arrogant, and impatient of opposition. Above all, he bad been
long an exile; and this circumstance alone would have completely
disqualified him for the supreme direction of affairs. It is
scarcely possible that a politician, who has been compelled by
civil troubles to go into banishment, and to pass many of the
best years of his life abroad, can be fit, on the day on which he
returns to his native land, to be at the head of the government.
Clarendon was no exception to this rule. He had left England with
a mind heated by a fierce conflict which had ended in the
downfall of his party and of his own fortunes. From 1646 to 1660
he had lived beyond sea, looking on all that passed at home from
a great distance, and through a false medium. His notions of
public affairs were necessarily derived from the reports of
plotters, many of whom were ruined and desperate men. Events
naturally seemed to him auspicious, not in proportion as they
increased the prosperity and glory of the nation, but in
proportion as they tended to hasten the hour of his own return.
His wish, a wish which he has not disguised, was that, till his
countrymen brought back the old line, they might never enjoy
quiet or freedom. At length he returned; and, without having a
single week to look about him, to mix with society, to note the
changes which fourteen eventful years had produced in the
national character and feelings, he was at once set to rule the
state. In such circumstances, a minister of the greatest tact and
docility would probably have fallen into serious errors. But tact
and docility made no part of the character of Clarendon. To him
England was still the England of his youth; and he sternly
frowned down every theory and every practice which had sprung up
during his own exile. Though he was far from meditating any
attack on the ancient and undoubted power of the House of
Commons, he saw with extreme uneasiness the growth of that power.
The royal prerogative, for which he had long suffered, and by
which he had at length been raised to wealth and dignity, was
sacred in his eyes. The Roundheads he regarded both with
political and with personal aversion. To the Anglican Church he
had always been strongly attached, and had repeatedly, where her
interests were concerned, separated himself with regret from his
dearest friends. His zeal for Episcopacy and for the Book of
Common Prayer was now more ardent than ever, and was mingled with
a vindictive hatred of the Puritans, which did him little honour
either as a statesman or as a Christian.
While the House of Commons which had recalled the royal family
was sitting, it was impossible to effect the re-establishment of
the old ecclesiastical system. Not only were the intentions of
the court strictly concealed, but assurances which quieted the
minds of the moderate Presbyterians were given by the King in the
most solemn manner. He had promised, before his restoration, that
he would grant liberty of conscience to his subjects. He now
repeated that promise, and added a promise to use his best
endeavours for the purpose of effecting a compromise between the
contending sects. He wished, he said, to see the spiritual
jurisdiction divided between bishops and synods. The Liturgy
should be revised by a body of learned divines, one-half of whom
should be Presbyterians. The questions respecting the surplice,
the posture at the Eucharist, and the sign of the cross in
baptism, should be settled in a way which would set tender
consciences at ease. When the King had thus laid asleep the
vigilance of those whom he most feared, he dissolved the
Parliament. He had already given his assent to an act by which an
amnesty was granted, with few exceptions, to all who, during the
late troubles, had been guilty of political offences. He had also
obtained from the Commons a grant for life of taxes, the annual
product of which was estimated at twelve hundred thousand pounds.
The actual income, indeed, during some years, amounted to little
more than a million: but this sum, together with the hereditary
revenue of the crown, was then sufficient to defray the expenses
of the government in time of peace. Nothing was allowed for a
standing army. The nation was sick of the very name; and the
least mention of such a force would have incensed and alarmed all
parties.
Early in 1661 took place a general election. The people were mad
with loyal enthusiasm. The capital was excited by preparations
for the most splendid coronation that had ever been known. The
result was that a body of representatives was returned, such as
England had never yet seen. A large proportion of the successful
candidates were men who had fought for the Crown and the Church,
and whose minds had been exasperated by many injuries and insults
suffered at the hands of the Roundheads. When the members met,
the passions which animated each individually acquired new
strength from sympathy. The House of Commons was, during some
years, more zealous for royalty than the King, more zealous for
episcopacy than the Bishops. Charles and Clarendon were almost
terrified at the completeness of their own success. They found
themselves in a situation not unlike that in which Lewis the
Eighteenth and the Duke of Richelieu were placed while the
Chamber of 1815 was sitting. Even if the King had been desirous
to fulfill the promises which he had made to the Presbyterians,
it would have been out of his power to do so. It was indeed only
by the strong exertion of his influence that he could prevent the
victorious Cavaliers from rescinding the act of indemnity, and
retaliating without mercy all that they had suffered.
The Commons began by resolving that every member should, on pain
of expulsion, take the sacrament according to the form prescribed
by the old Liturgy, and that the Covenant should be burned by the
hangman in Palace Yard. An act was passed, which not only
acknowledged the power of the sword to be solely in the King, but
declared that in no extremity whatever could the two Houses be
justified in withstanding him by force. Another act was passed
which required every officer of a corporation to receive the
Eucharist according to the rites of the Church of England, and to
swear that he held resistance to the King's authority to be in
all cases unlawful. A few hotheaded men wished to bring in a
bill, which should at once annul all the statutes passed by the
Long Parliament, and should restore the Star Chamber and the High
Commission; but the reaction, violent as it was, did not proceed
quite to this length. It still continued to be the law that a
Parliament should be held every three years: but the stringent
clauses which directed the returning officers to proceed to
election at the proper time, even without the royal writ, were
repealed. The Bishops were restored to their seats in the Upper
House. The old ecclesiastical polity and the old Liturgy were
revived without any modification which had any tendency to
conciliate even the most reasonable Presbyterians. Episcopal
ordination was now, for the first time, made an indispensable
qualification for church preferment. About two thousand ministers
of religion, whose conscience did not suffer them to conform,
were driven from their benefices in one day. The dominant party
exultingly reminded the sufferers that the Long Parliament, when
at the height of power, had turned out a still greater number of
Royalist divines.
reluctant attendance at endless prayers and sermons, and might
think himself fortunate when he was not insolently reminded from
the pulpit of his own frailties, of his father's tyranny, and of
his mother's idolatry. Indeed he had been so miserable during
this part of his life that the defeat which made him again a
wanderer might be regarded as a deliverance rather than as a
calamity. Under the influence of such feelings as these Charles
was desirous to depress the party which had resisted his father.
The King's brother, James Duke of York, took the same side.
Though a libertine, James was diligent, methodical, and fond of
authority and business. His understanding was singularly slow and
narrow, and his temper obstinate, harsh, and unforgiving. That
such a prince should have looked with no good will on the free
institutions of England, and on the party which was peculiarly
zealous for those institutions, can excite no surprise. As yet
the Duke professed himself a member of the Anglican Church but he
had already shown inclinations which had seriously alarmed good
Protestants.
The person on whom devolved at this time the greatest part of the
labour of governing was Edward Hyde, Chancellor of the realm, who
was soon created Earl of Clarendon. The respect which we justly
feel for Clarendon as a writer must not blind us to the faults
which he committed as a statesman. Some of those faults, however,
are explained and excused by the unfortunate position in which he
stood. He had, during the first year of the Long Parliament, been
honourably distinguished among the senators who laboured to
redress the grievances of the nation. One of the most odious of
those grievances, the Council of York, had been removed in
consequence chiefly of his exertions. When the great schism took
place, when the reforming party and the conservative party first
appeared marshalled against each other, he, with many wise and
good men, took the conservative side. He thenceforward followed
the fortunes of the court, enjoyed as large a share of the
confidence of Charles the First as the reserved nature and
tortuous policy of that prince allowed to any minister, and
subsequently shared the exile and directed the political conduct
of Charles the Second. At the Restoration Hyde became chief
minister. In a few months it was announced that he was closely
related by affinity to the royal house. His daughter had become,
by a secret marriage, Duchess of York. His grandchildren might
perhaps wear the crown. He was raised by this illustrious
connection over the heads of the old nobility of the land, and
was for a time supposed to be allpowerful. In some respects he
was well fitted for his great place. No man wrote abler state
papers. No man spoke with more weight and dignity in Council and
in Parliament. No man was better acquainted with general maxims
of statecraft. No man observed the varieties of character with a
more discriminating eye. It must be added that he had a strong
sense of moral and religious obligation, a sincere reverence for
the laws of his country, and a conscientious regard for the
honour and interest of the Crown. But his temper was sour,
arrogant, and impatient of opposition. Above all, he bad been
long an exile; and this circumstance alone would have completely
disqualified him for the supreme direction of affairs. It is
scarcely possible that a politician, who has been compelled by
civil troubles to go into banishment, and to pass many of the
best years of his life abroad, can be fit, on the day on which he
returns to his native land, to be at the head of the government.
Clarendon was no exception to this rule. He had left England with
a mind heated by a fierce conflict which had ended in the
downfall of his party and of his own fortunes. From 1646 to 1660
he had lived beyond sea, looking on all that passed at home from
a great distance, and through a false medium. His notions of
public affairs were necessarily derived from the reports of
plotters, many of whom were ruined and desperate men. Events
naturally seemed to him auspicious, not in proportion as they
increased the prosperity and glory of the nation, but in
proportion as they tended to hasten the hour of his own return.
His wish, a wish which he has not disguised, was that, till his
countrymen brought back the old line, they might never enjoy
quiet or freedom. At length he returned; and, without having a
single week to look about him, to mix with society, to note the
changes which fourteen eventful years had produced in the
national character and feelings, he was at once set to rule the
state. In such circumstances, a minister of the greatest tact and
docility would probably have fallen into serious errors. But tact
and docility made no part of the character of Clarendon. To him
England was still the England of his youth; and he sternly
frowned down every theory and every practice which had sprung up
during his own exile. Though he was far from meditating any
attack on the ancient and undoubted power of the House of
Commons, he saw with extreme uneasiness the growth of that power.
The royal prerogative, for which he had long suffered, and by
which he had at length been raised to wealth and dignity, was
sacred in his eyes. The Roundheads he regarded both with
political and with personal aversion. To the Anglican Church he
had always been strongly attached, and had repeatedly, where her
interests were concerned, separated himself with regret from his
dearest friends. His zeal for Episcopacy and for the Book of
Common Prayer was now more ardent than ever, and was mingled with
a vindictive hatred of the Puritans, which did him little honour
either as a statesman or as a Christian.
While the House of Commons which had recalled the royal family
was sitting, it was impossible to effect the re-establishment of
the old ecclesiastical system. Not only were the intentions of
the court strictly concealed, but assurances which quieted the
minds of the moderate Presbyterians were given by the King in the
most solemn manner. He had promised, before his restoration, that
he would grant liberty of conscience to his subjects. He now
repeated that promise, and added a promise to use his best
endeavours for the purpose of effecting a compromise between the
contending sects. He wished, he said, to see the spiritual
jurisdiction divided between bishops and synods. The Liturgy
should be revised by a body of learned divines, one-half of whom
should be Presbyterians. The questions respecting the surplice,
the posture at the Eucharist, and the sign of the cross in
baptism, should be settled in a way which would set tender
consciences at ease. When the King had thus laid asleep the
vigilance of those whom he most feared, he dissolved the
Parliament. He had already given his assent to an act by which an
amnesty was granted, with few exceptions, to all who, during the
late troubles, had been guilty of political offences. He had also
obtained from the Commons a grant for life of taxes, the annual
product of which was estimated at twelve hundred thousand pounds.
The actual income, indeed, during some years, amounted to little
more than a million: but this sum, together with the hereditary
revenue of the crown, was then sufficient to defray the expenses
of the government in time of peace. Nothing was allowed for a
standing army. The nation was sick of the very name; and the
least mention of such a force would have incensed and alarmed all
parties.
Early in 1661 took place a general election. The people were mad
with loyal enthusiasm. The capital was excited by preparations
for the most splendid coronation that had ever been known. The
result was that a body of representatives was returned, such as
England had never yet seen. A large proportion of the successful
candidates were men who had fought for the Crown and the Church,
and whose minds had been exasperated by many injuries and insults
suffered at the hands of the Roundheads. When the members met,
the passions which animated each individually acquired new
strength from sympathy. The House of Commons was, during some
years, more zealous for royalty than the King, more zealous for
episcopacy than the Bishops. Charles and Clarendon were almost
terrified at the completeness of their own success. They found
themselves in a situation not unlike that in which Lewis the
Eighteenth and the Duke of Richelieu were placed while the
Chamber of 1815 was sitting. Even if the King had been desirous
to fulfill the promises which he had made to the Presbyterians,
it would have been out of his power to do so. It was indeed only
by the strong exertion of his influence that he could prevent the
victorious Cavaliers from rescinding the act of indemnity, and
retaliating without mercy all that they had suffered.
The Commons began by resolving that every member should, on pain
of expulsion, take the sacrament according to the form prescribed
by the old Liturgy, and that the Covenant should be burned by the
hangman in Palace Yard. An act was passed, which not only
acknowledged the power of the sword to be solely in the King, but
declared that in no extremity whatever could the two Houses be
justified in withstanding him by force. Another act was passed
which required every officer of a corporation to receive the
Eucharist according to the rites of the Church of England, and to
swear that he held resistance to the King's authority to be in
all cases unlawful. A few hotheaded men wished to bring in a
bill, which should at once annul all the statutes passed by the
Long Parliament, and should restore the Star Chamber and the High
Commission; but the reaction, violent as it was, did not proceed
quite to this length. It still continued to be the law that a
Parliament should be held every three years: but the stringent
clauses which directed the returning officers to proceed to
election at the proper time, even without the royal writ, were
repealed. The Bishops were restored to their seats in the Upper
House. The old ecclesiastical polity and the old Liturgy were
revived without any modification which had any tendency to
conciliate even the most reasonable Presbyterians. Episcopal
ordination was now, for the first time, made an indispensable
qualification for church preferment. About two thousand ministers
of religion, whose conscience did not suffer them to conform,
were driven from their benefices in one day. The dominant party
exultingly reminded the sufferers that the Long Parliament, when
at the height of power, had turned out a still greater number of
Royalist divines.
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