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

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.