The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1, Thomas Babington Macaulay [ebook pc reader txt] 📗

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the books of Judges and Kings. Their thoughts and discourse ran

much on acts which were assuredly not recorded as examples for

our imitation. The prophet who hewed in pieces a captive king,

the rebel general who gave the blood of a queen to the dogs, the

matron who, in defiance of plighted faith, and of the laws of

eastern hospitality, drove the nail into the brain of the

fugitive ally who had just fed at her board, and who was sleeping

under the shadow of her tent, were proposed as models to

Christians suffering under the tyranny of princes and prelates.

Morals and manners were subjected to a code resembling that of

the synagogue, when the synagogue was in its worst state. The

dress, the deportment, the language, the studies, the amusements

of the rigid sect were regulated on principles not unlike those

of the Pharisees who, proud of their washed hands and broad

phylacteries, taunted the Redeemer as a sabbath-breaker and a

winebibber. It was a sin to hang garlands on a Maypole, to drink

a friend's health, to fly a hawk, to hunt a stag, to play at

chess, to wear love-locks, to put starch into a ruff, to touch

the virginals, to read the Fairy Queen. Rules such as these,

rules which would have appeared insupportable to the free and

joyous spirit of Luther, and contemptible to the serene and

philosophical intellect of Zwingle, threw over all life a more

than monastic gloom. The learning and eloquence by which the

great Reformers had been eminently distinguished, and to which

they had been, in no small measure, indebted for their success,

were regarded by the new school of Protestants with suspicion, if

not with aversion. Some precisians had scruples about teaching

the Latin grammar, because the names of Mars, Bacchus, and Apollo

occurred in it. The fine arts were all but proscribed. The solemn

peal of the organ was superstitious. The light music of Ben

Jonson's masques was dissolute. Half the fine paintings in

England were idolatrous, and the other half indecent. The extreme

Puritan was at once known from other men by his gait, his garb,

his lank hair, the sour solemnity of his face, the upturned white

of his eyes, the nasal twang with which he spoke, and above all,

by his peculiar dialect. He employed, on every occasion, the

imagery and style of Scripture. Hebraisms violently introduced

into the English language, and metaphors borrowed from the

boldest lyric poetry of a remote age and country, and applied to

the common concerns of English life, were the most striking

peculiarities of this cant, which moved, not without cause, the

derision both of Prelatists and libertines.


Thus the political and religious schism which had originated in

the sixteenth century was, during the first quarter of the

seventeenth century, constantly widening. Theories tending to

Turkish despotism were in fashion at Whitehall. Theories tending

to republicanism were in favour with a large portion of the House

of Commons. The violent Prelatists who were, to a man, zealous

for prerogative, and the violent Puritans who were, to a man,

zealous for the privileges of Parliament, regarded each other

with animosity more intense than that which, in the preceding

generation, had existed between Catholics and Protestants.


While the minds of men were in this state, the country, after a

peace of many years, at length engaged in a war which required

strenuous exertions. This war hastened the approach of the great

constitutional crisis. It was necessary that the King should have

a large military force. He could not have such a force without

money. He could not legally raise money without the consent of

Parliament. It followed, therefore, that he either must

administer the government in conformity with the sense of the

House of Commons, or must venture on such a violation of the

fundamental laws of the land as had been unknown during several

centuries. The Plantagenets and the Tudors had, it is true,

occasionally supplied a deficiency in their revenue by a

benevolence or a forced loan: but these expedients were always of

a temporary nature. To meet the regular charge of a long war by

regular taxation, imposed without the consent of the Estates of

the realm, was a course which Henry the Eighth himself would not

have dared to take. It seemed, therefore, that the decisive hour

was approaching, and that the English Parliament would soon

either share the fate of the senates of the Continent, or obtain

supreme ascendency in the state.


Just at this conjuncture James died. Charles the First succeeded

to the throne. He had received from nature a far better

understanding, a far stronger will, and a far keener and firmer

temper than his father's. He had inherited his father's political

theories, and was much more disposed than his father to carry

them into practice. He was, like his father, a zealous

Episcopalian. He was, moreover, what his father had never been, a

zealous Arminian, and, though no Papist, liked a Papist much

better than a Puritan. It would be unjust to deny that Charles

had some of the qualities of a good, and even of a great prince.

He wrote and spoke, not, like his father, with the exactness of a

professor, but after the fashion of intelligent and well educated

gentlemen. His taste in literature and art was excellent, his

manner dignified, though not gracious, his domestic life without

blemish. Faithlessness was the chief cause of his disasters, and

is the chief stain on his memory. He was, in truth, impelled by

an incurable propensity to dark and crooked ways. It may seem

strange that his conscience, which, on occasions of little

moment, was sufficiently sensitive, should never have reproached

him with this great vice. But there is reason to believe that he

was perfidious, not only from constitution and from habit, but

also on principle. He seems to have learned from the theologians

whom he most esteemed that between him and his subjects there

could be nothing of the nature of mutual contract; that he could

not, even if he would, divest himself of his despotic authority;

and that, in every promise which he made, there was an implied

reservation that such promise might be broken in case of

necessity, and that of the necessity he was the sole judge.


And now began that hazardous game on which were staked the

destinies of the English people. It was played on the side of the

House of Commons with keenness, but with admirable dexterity,

coolness, and perseverance. Great statesmen who looked far behind

them and far before them were at the head of that assembly. They

were resolved to place the King in such a situation that he must

either conduct the administration in conformity with the wishes

of his Parliament, or make outrageous attacks on the most sacred

principles of the constitution. They accordingly doled out

supplies to him very sparingly. He found that he must govern

either in harmony with the House of Commons or in defiance of all

law. His choice was soon made. He dissolved his first Parliament,

and levied taxes by his own authority. He convoked a second

Parliament, and found it more intractable than the first. He

again resorted to the expedient of dissolution, raised fresh

taxes without any show of legal right, and threw the chiefs of

the opposition into prison At the same time a new grievance,

which the peculiar feelings and habits of the English nation made

insupportably painful, and which seemed to all discerning men to

be of fearful augury, excited general discontent and alarm.

Companies of soldiers were billeted on the people; and martial

law was, in some places, substituted for the ancient

jurisprudence of the realm.


The King called a third Parliament, and soon perceived that the

opposition was stronger and fiercer than ever. He now determined

on a change of tactics. Instead of opposing an inflexible

resistance to the demands of the Commons, he, after much

altercation and many evasions, agreed to a compromise which, if

he had faithfully adhered to it, would have averted a long series

of calamities. The Parliament granted an ample supply. The King

ratified, in the most solemn manner, that celebrated law, which

is known by the name of the Petition of Right, and which is the

second Great Charter of the liberties of England. By ratifying

that law he bound himself never again to raise. money without the

consent of the Houses, never again to imprison any person, except

in due course of law, and never again to subject his people to

the jurisdiction of courts martial.


The day on which the royal sanction was, after many delays,

solemnly given to this great Act, was a day of joy and hope. The

Commons, who crowded the bar of the House of Lords, broke forth

into loud acclamations as soon as the clerk had pronounced the

ancient form of words by which our princes have, during many

ages, signified their assent to the wishes of the Estates of the

realm. Those acclamations were reechoed by the voice of the

capital and of the nation; but within three weeks it became

manifest that Charles had no intention of observing the compact

into which he had entered. The supply given by the

representatives of the nation was collected. The promise by which

that supply had been obtained was broken. A violent contest

followed. The Parliament was dissolved with every mark of royal

displeasure. Some of the most distinguished members were

imprisoned; and one of them, Sir John Eliot, after years of

suffering, died in confinement.


Charles, however, could not venture to raise, by his own

authority, taxes sufficient for carrying on war. He accordingly

hastened to make peace with his neighbours, and thenceforth gave

his whole mind to British politics.


Now commenced a new era. Many English Kings had occasionally

committed unconstitutional acts: but none had ever systematically

attempted to make himself a despot, and to reduce the Parliament

to a nullity. Such was the end which Charles distinctly proposed

to himself. From March 1629 to April 1640, the Houses were not

convoked. Never in our history had there been an interval of

eleven years between Parliament and Parliament. Only once had

there been an interval of even half that length. This fact alone

is sufficient to refute those who represent Charles as having

merely trodden in the footsteps of the Plantagenets and Tudors.


It is proved, by the testimony of the King's most strenuous

supporters, that, during this part of his reign, the provisions

of the Petition of Right were violated by him, not occasionally,

but constantly, and on system; that a large part of the revenue

was raised without any legal authority; and that persons

obnoxious to the government languished for years in prison,

without being ever called upon