Chapter XIV: The Reign of Charles II

[Sidenote: The Restoration.]

[Sidenote: Great Public Rejoicings.]

Few events in English history have ever been hailed with greater popular enthusiasm than the restoration of Charles II. On the 25th of May, 1660, he landed near Dover, with his two brothers, the Dukes of York and Gloucester. On the 29th of May, he made his triumphal entry into London. It was his birthday, he was thirty years of age, and in the full maturity of manly beauty, while his gracious manners and captivating speech made him the favorite of the people, as well as of the old nobility. The season was full of charms, and the spirits of all classes were buoyant with hope. Every thing conspired to give a glow to the popular enthusiasm. A long line of illustrious monarchs was restored. The hateful fires of religious fanaticism were apparently extinguished. An accomplished sovereign, disciplined in the school of adversity, of brilliant talents, amiable temper, fascinating manners, and singular experiences, had returned to the throne of his ancestors, and had sworn to rule by the laws, to forget old offences, and promote liberty of conscience. No longer should there be a government of soldiers, nor the rule of a man hostile to those pleasures and opinions which had ever been dear to the English people. With the return of the exiled prince, should also return joy, peace, and prosperity. For seventeen years, there had been violent political and social animosities, war, tyranny, social restraints, and religious fanaticism. But order and law were now to be reëstablished, and the reign of cant and hypocrisy was now to end. Justice and mercy were to meet together in the person of a king who was represented to have all the virtues and none of the vices of his station and his times. So people reasoned and felt, of all classes and conditions. And why should they not rejoice in the restoration of such blessings? The ways were strewn with flowers, the bells sent forth a merry peal, the streets were hung with tapestries; while aldermen with their heavy chains, nobles in their robes of pomp, ladies with their silks and satins, and waving handkerchiefs, filling all the balconies and windows; musicians, dancers, and exulting crowds,--all welcomed the return of Charles. Never was there so great a jubilee in London; and never did monarch receive such addresses of flattery and loyalty. "Dread monarch," said the Earl of Manchester, in the House of Lords, "I offer no flattering titles. You are the desire of three kingdoms, the strength and stay of the tribes of the people." "Most royal sovereign," said one of the deputations, "the hearts of all are filled with veneration for you, confidence in you, longings for you. All degrees, and ages, and sexes, high, low, rich and poor, men, women, and children, join in sending up to Heaven one prayer, 'Long live King Charles II.;' so that the English air is not susceptible of any other sound, bells, bonfires, peals of ordnance, shouts, and acclamations of the people bear no other moral; nor can his majesty conceive with what joy, what cheerfulness, what lettings out of the soul, what expressions of transported minds, a stupendous concourse of people attended the proclamation of their most potent, most mighty, and most undoubted king." Such was the adulatory language addressed by the English people to the son of the king they had murdered, and to a man noted for every frivolity and vice that could degrade a sovereign. What are we to think of that public joy, and public sycophancy, after so many years of hard fighting for civil and religious liberty? For what were the battles of Naseby and Worcester? For what the Solemn League and Covenant? For what the trial and execution of Charles I.? For what the elevation of Cromwell? Alas! for what were all the experiments and sufferings of twenty years, the breaking up of old and mighty customs, and twenty years of blood, usurpation, and change? What were the benefits of the Revolution? Or, had it no benefits? How happened it that a whole nation should simultaneously rise and expel their monarch from a throne which his ancestors had enjoyed for six hundred years, and then, in so short a time, have elevated to this old throne, which was supposed to be subverted forever, the son of their insulted, humiliated, and murdered king? and this without bloodshed, with every demonstration of national rejoicings, and with every external mark of repentance for their past conduct. Charles, too, was restored without any of those limitations by which the nation sought to curtail the power of his father. The nation surrendered to him more absolute power than the most ambitious kings, since the reign of John, had ever claimed,--more than he ever dared to expect. How shall we explain these things? And what is the moral which they teach?

[Sidenote: Reaction to Revolutionary Principles.]

One fact is obvious,--that a great reaction had taken place in the national mind as to revolutionary principles. It is evident that a great disgust for the government of Cromwell had succeeded the antipathy to the royal government of Charles. All classes as ardently desired the restoration, as they had before favored the rebellion. Even the old parliamentarians hailed the return of Charles, notwithstanding it was admitted that the protectorate was a vigorous administration; that law and order were enforced; that religious liberty was proclaimed; that the rights of conscience were respected; that literature and science were encouraged; that the morals of the people were purified; that the ordinances of religion were observed; that vice and folly were discouraged; that justice was ably administered; that peace and plenty were enjoyed; that prosperity attended the English arms abroad; and that the nation was as much respected abroad as it was prosperous at home. These things were admitted by the very people who rejoiced in the restoration. And yet, in spite of all these substantial blessings, the reign of Cromwell was odious. Why was this?

It can only be explained on the supposition that there were _unendurable evils_ connected with the administration of Cromwell, which more than balanced the benefits he conferred; or, that expectations were held out by Charles of national benefits greater than those conferred by the republic; or, that the nation had so retrograded in elevation of sentiment as to be unable to appreciate the excellences of Cromwell's administration.

There is much to support all of these suppositions. In regard to the evils connected with the republic, it is certain that a large standing army was supported, and was necessary to uphold the government of the protector, in order to give to it efficiency and character. This army was expensive, and the people felt the burden. They always complain under taxation, whether necessary or not. Taxes ever make any government unpopular, and made the administration of Cromwell especially so. And the army showed the existence of a military despotism, which, however imperatively called for, or rendered unavoidable by revolution, was still a hateful fact. The English never have liked the principle of a military despotism. And it was a bitter reflection to feel that so much blood and treasure had been expended to get rid of the arbitrary rule of the Stuarts, only to introduce a still more expensive and arbitrary government, under the name of a republic. Moreover, the eyes of the people were opened to the moral corruptions incident to the support of a large army, without which the power of Cromwell would have been unsubstantial. He may originally have desired to establish his power on a civil basis, rather than a military one; but his desires were not realized. The parliaments which he assembled were unpractical and disorderly. He was forced to rule without them. But the nation could not forget this great insult to their liberties, and to those privileges which had ever been dear to them. The preponderance of the civil power has, for several centuries, characterized the government; and no blessings were sufficiently great to balance the evil, in the eye of an Englishman, of the preponderance of a military government, neither the excellence of Cromwell's life, nor the glory and greatness to which he raised the nation.

[Sidenote: Excellences in Charles's Government.]

Again, much was expected of Charles II., and there was much in his character and early administration to produce content. His manners were agreeable. He had no personal antipathies or jealousies. He selected, at first, the wisest and best of all parties to be his counsellors and ministers. He seemed to forget old offences. He was fond of pleasure; was good-natured and affable. He summoned a free parliament. His interests were made to appear identical with those of the people. He promised to rule by the laws. He did not openly infringe on the constitution. And he restored, what has ever been so dear to the great body of the nation, the Episcopal Church in all its beauty and grandeur, while he did not recommence the persecution of Puritans until some time had elapsed from his restoration. Above all, he disbanded the army, which was always distasteful to the people,--odious, onerous, and oppressive. The civil power again triumphed over that of the military, and circumstances existed which rendered the subversion of liberty very difficult. Many adverse events transpired during his unfortunate and disgraceful reign; but these, in the early part of it, had not, of course, been anticipated.

[Sidenote: Failure of the Puritan Experiment.]

There is also force in the third supposition, that the nation had retrograded in moral elevation. All writers speak of a strong reaction to the religious fervor of the early revolutionists. The moral influence of the army had proved destructive to the habits and sentiments of the people. A strong love of pleasure and demoralizing amusements existed, when Charles was recalled. A general laxity of morals was lamented by the wisest and best of the nation. The religious convictions of enthusiasts survived their sympathies. Hypocrisy and cant succeeded fervor and honesty. Infidelity lurked in many a bosom in which devotional ardor had once warmly burned. Distrust of all philanthropy and all human virtue was as marked, as faith in the same previously had been. The ordinances of religion became irksome, and it was remembered with bitterness that the Puritans, in the days of their ascendency, had cruelly proscribed the most favorite pleasures and time-honored festivals of old England. But the love of them returned with redoubled vigor. May-poles, wrestling-matches, bear-baitings, puppet-shows, bowls, horse-racing, betting, rope-dancing, romping under the mistletoe on Christmas, eating boars' heads, attending the theatres, health-drinking,--all these old-fashioned ways, in which the English sought merriment, were restored. The evil was chiefly in the excess to which these pleasures were carried; and every thing, which bore any resemblance to the Puritans, was ridiculed and despised. The nation, as a nation, did not love Puritanism, or any thing pertaining to it, after the deep religious excitement had passed away. The people were ashamed of prayer-meetings, of speaking through their noses, of wearing their hair straight, of having their garments cut primly, of calling their children by the name of Moses, Joshua, Jeremiah, Obadiah, &c.; and, in short, of all customs and opinions peculiar to the Extreme Puritans. So general was the disgust of Puritanism, so eager were all to indulge in the pleasures that had been forbidden under the reign of Cromwell, so sick were they of the very name of republicanism, that Puritanism may be said to have proved, in England, a signal failure.

Such were some of the reasons of popular acclamation on the restoration of Charles II., and which we cannot consider entirely without force. A state of mind existed in England as favorable to the encroachments of royalty, as, twenty years before, it had been unfavorable.

Charles was not a high-minded, or honest, or patriotic king; and therefore we might naturally expect the growth of absolutism during his reign. The progress of absolutism is, indeed, one of its features. This, for a time, demands our notice.

On the restoration of Charles II., his subjects made no particular stipulations respecting their liberties, which were incautiously intrusted to his hands. But, at first, he did not seem inclined to grasp at greater powers than what the constitution allowed him. He had the right to appoint the great officers of state, the privilege of veto on legislative enactments, the control of the army and navy, the regulation of all foreign intercourse, and the right of making peace and war. But the constitution did not allow him to rule without a parliament, or to raise taxes without its consent. The parliament might grant or withhold supplies at pleasure, and all money bills originated and were discussed in the House of Commons alone. These were the great principles of the English constitution, which Charles swore to maintain.

[Sidenote: Repeal of the Triennial Bill.]

The first form in which the encroaching temper of the king was manifested was, in causing the Triennial Bill to be repealed. This was indeed done by the parliament, but through the royal influence. This bill was not that a parliament should be assembled every three years, but that the interval between one session and another should not exceed that period. But this wise law, which had passed by acclamation during the reign of Charles I., and for which even Clarendon had voted, was regarded by Charles II. as subversive of the liberty of his crown; and a supple, degenerate and sycophantic parliament gratified his wishes.

About the same time was passed the Corporation Act, which enjoined all magistrates, and persons of trust in corporations, to swear that they believed it unlawful, under any pretence whatever to take arms against the king. The Presbyterians refused to take this oath; and they were therefore excluded from offices of dignity and trust. The act bore hard upon all bodies of Dissenters and Roman Catholics, the former of whom were most cruelly persecuted in this reign.

[Sidenote: Secret Alliance with Louis XIV.]

The next most noticeable effort of Charles to extend his power independently of the law, was his secret alliance with Louis XIV. This was not known to the nation, and even but to few of his ministers, and was the most disgraceful act of his reign. For the miserable stipend of two hundred thousand pounds a year, he was ready to compromise the interests of the kingdom, and make himself the slave of the most ambitious sovereign in Europe. He became a pensioner of France, and yet did not feel his disgrace. Clarendon, attached as he was to monarchy, and to the house of Stuart, could not join him in his base intrigues; and therefore lost, as was to be expected, the royal favor. He had been the companion and counsellor of Charles in the days of his exile; he had attempted to enkindle in his mind the desire of great deeds and virtues; he had faithfully served him as chancellor and prime minister; he was impartial and incorruptible; he was as much attached to Episcopacy, as he was to monarchy; he had even advised Charles to rule without a parliament; and yet he was disgraced because he would not comply with all the wishes of his unscrupulous master. But Clarendon was, nevertheless, unpopular with the nation. He had advised Charles to sell Dunkirk, the proudest trophy of the Revolution, and had built for himself a splendid palace, on the site of the present Clarendon Hotel, in Albemarle Street, which the people called _Dunkirk House_. He was proud, ostentatious, and dictatorial, and was bitterly hostile to all democratic influences. He was too good for one party, and not good enough for the other, and therefore fell to the ground; but he retired, if not with dignity, at least with safety. He retreated to the Continent, and there wrote his celebrated history of the Great Rebellion, a partial and bitter history, yet a valuable record of the great events of the age of revolution which he had witnessed and detested.

Charles received the bribe of two hundred thousand pounds from the French king, with the hope of being made independent of his parliament, and with the condition of assisting Louis XIV. in his aggressive wars on the liberties of Europe, especially those of Holland. He was, at heart an absolutist, and rejoiced in the victories of the "Grand Monarch." But this supply was scarcely sufficient even for his pleasures, much less to support the ordinary pomp of a monarchy, and the civil and military powers of the state. So he had to resort to other means.

[Sidenote: Venality and Sycophancy of Parliament.]

It happened, fortunately for his encroachments, but unfortunately for the nation, that the English parliament, at that period, was more corrupt, venal, base, and sycophantic than at any period under the Tudor kings, or at any subsequent period under the Hanoverian princes. The House of Commons made no indignant resistance; it sent up but few spirited remonstrances; but tamely acquiesced in the measures of Charles and his ministers. Its members were bought and sold with unblushing facility, and even were corrupted by the agents of the French king. One member received six thousand pounds for his vote. Twenty-nine of the members received from five hundred to twelve hundred pounds a year. Charles I. attempted to rule by opposition to the parliament; Charles II. by corrupting it. Hence it was nearly silent in view of his arbitrary spirit, his repeated encroachments, and his worthless public character.

Among his worst acts was his shutting up the Exchequer, where the bankers and merchants had been in the habit of depositing money on the security of the funds, receiving a large interest of from eight to ten per cent. By closing the Exchequer, the bankers, unable to draw out their money, stopped payment; and a universal panic was the consequence, during which many great failures happened. By this base violation of the public faith, Charles obtained one million three hundred thousand pounds. But it undermined his popularity more than any of his acts, since he touched the pockets of the people. The odium, however, fell chiefly on his ministers, especially those who received the name of the _Cabal_, from the fact that the initials of their names spelt that odious term of reproach, not unmerited in their case.

These five ministers were Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashley, and Lauderdale, and they were the great instruments of his tyranny. None of them had the talents or audacity of Strafford, or the narrowness and bigotry of Laud; but their counsels were injurious to the nation.

Clifford and Arlington were tolerably respectable but indifferent to the glory and shame of their country; while Buckingham, Ashley, and Lauderdale were profligate, unprincipled, and dishonest to a great degree. They aided Charles to corrupt the parliament and deceive the nation. They removed all restraints on his will, and pandered to his depraved tastes. It was by their suggestion that the king shut up the Exchequer. They also favored restrictions on the press.

[Sidenote: Restrictions on the Press.]

These restrictions were another abomination in the reign of Charles, but one ever peculiar to a despotic government. No book could be printed out of London, York, or the Universities. But these were not made wholly with a view of shackling the mind, but to prevent those libels and lampoons which made the government ridiculous in the eyes of the people.

Nothing caused more popular indignation, during this reign, than the Forfeiture of the Corporation of the City of London. The power of the democracy resided, at this time, with the corporations, and as long as they were actuated by the spirit of liberty, there was no prospect of obtaining a parliament entirely subservient to the king. It was determined to take away their charters; and the infamous Judge Jeffreys was found a most subservient tool of royalty in undermining the liberties of the country. The corporation of London, however, received back its charter, after having yielded to the king the right of conferring the appointments of mayor, recorder, and sheriffs.

Among other infringements on the constitution was the fining of jurors when they refused to act according to the direction of the judges. Juries were constantly intimidated, and their privileges were abridged. A new parliament, moreover, was not convoked after three years had elapsed from the dissolution of the old one, which infringement was the more reprehensible, since the king had nothing to fear from the new House of Commons, the members of which vied with each other in a base compliancy with the royal will.

But their sycophancy was nothing compared with what the bishops and clergy of the Established Church generally evinced. Absolute non-resistance was inculcated from the pulpits, and the doctrine ridiculed that power emanated from the people. The divine rights of kings, and the divine ordination of absolute power were the themes of divines, while Oxford proclaimed doctrines worthy of Mariana and the Jesuits.

Thus various influences contributed to make Charles II. absolute in England--the Courts of Justice, the Parliaments, the Universities, and the Church of England. Had he been as ambitious as he was fond of pleasure, as capable of ruling as he was capable of telling stories at the dinner table, he would, like Louis XIV., have reared an absolute throne in England. But he was too easy, too careless, too fond of pleasure to concentrate his thoughts on devising means to enslave his subjects.

[Sidenote: Habeas Corpus Act.]

It must not, however, be supposed that all his subjects were indifferent to his encroachments, in spite of the great reaction which had succeeded to liberal sentiments. Before he died, the spirit of resistance was beginning to be seen, and some checks to royal power were imposed by parliament itself. The Habeas Corpus Act, the most important since the declaration of Magna Charta, was passed, and through the influence of one of his former ministers, Ashley, now become Earl of Shaftesbury, who took the popular side, after having served all sides, but always with a view of advancing his own interests, a man of great versatility of genius, of great sagacity, and of varied learning. Had Charles continued much longer on the throne, it cannot be doubted that the nation would have been finally aroused to resist his spirit of encroachment, for the principles of liberty had not been proclaimed in vain.

Charles II. was a tyrant, and one of the worst kings that ever sat on the English throne. His leading defect was want of earnestness of character, which made him indifferent to the welfare of his country. England, during his reign, was reduced to comparative insignificance in the eyes of foreigners, and was neither feared nor respected. Her king was neither a powerful friend nor an implacable enemy, and left the Continental Powers to pursue their own ends unmolested and unrebuked. Most of the administrations of the English kings are interlinked with the whole system of European politics. But the reign of Charles is chiefly interesting in relation to the domestic history of England. This history is chiefly the cabals of ministers, the intrigues of the court, the pleasures and follies of the king, the attacks he made on the constitution without any direct warfare with his parliament and the system of religious persecution, which was most intolerant.

The king was at heart a Catholic; and yet the persecution of the Catholics is one of the most signal events of the times. We can scarcely conceive, in this age, of the spirit of distrust and fear which pervaded the national mind in reference to the Catholics. Every calumny was believed. Every trifling offence was exaggerated, and by nearly all classes in the community, by the Episcopalians, as well as by the Presbyterians and the Independents.

[Sidenote: Titus Oates.]

The most memorable of all the delusions and slanders of the times was produced by the perjuries of an unprincipled wretch called Titus Oates, who took advantage of the general infatuation to advance his individual interests. Like an artful politician, he had only to appeal to a dominant passion or prejudice, and he was sure of making his fortune. Like a cunning, popular orator, he had only to inflame the passions of the people, and he would pass as a genius and a prophet. Few are so abstractedly and coldly intellectual as not to be mainly governed by their tastes or passions. Even men of strong intellect have frequently strong prejudices, and one has only to make himself master of these, in order to lead those who are infinitely their superiors. There is no proof that all who persecuted the Catholics in Charles's time were either weak or ignorant. But there is evidence of unbounded animosity, a traditional hatred, not much diminished since the Gunpowder Plot of Guy Fawkes. The whole nation was ready to believe any thing against the Catholics, and especially against their church, which was supposed to be persecuting and diabolical in all its principles and in all its practice. In this state of the popular mind, Oates made his hideous revelations.

[Sidenote: Oates's Revelations.]

He was a broken-down clergyman of the Established Church, and had lost caste for disgraceful irregularities. But he professed to hate the Catholics, and such a virtue secured him friends. Among these was the Rev. Dr. Tonge, a man very weak, very credulous, and full of fears respecting the intrigues of the Catholics but honest in his fears. Oates went to this clergyman, and a plan was concerted between them, by which Oates should get a knowledge of the supposed intrigues of the Church of Rome. He professed himself a Catholic, went to the Continent, and entered a Catholic seminary, but was soon discharged for his scandalous irregularities. But he had been a Catholic long enough for his purposes. He returned to London, and revealed his pretended discoveries, among which he declared that the Jesuits had undertaken to restore the Catholic religion in England by force; that they were resolved to take the king's life, and had actually offered a bribe of fifteen thousand pounds to the queen's physician; that they had planned to burn London, and to set fire to all the shipping in the Thames; that they were plotting to make a general massacre of the Protestants; that a French army was about to invade England; and that all the horrors of St. Bartholomew were to be again acted over! Ridiculous as were these assertions, they were believed, and without a particle of evidence; so great was the national infatuation. The king and the Duke of York both pronounced the whole matter a forgery, and laughed at the credulity of the people, but had not sufficient generosity to prevent the triumph of the libellers. But Oates's testimony was not enough to convict any one, the law requiring two witnesses. But, in such a corrupt age, false witnesses could easily be procured. An infamous wretch, by the name of Bedloe, was bribed, a man who had been imprisoned in Newgate for swindling. Others equally unscrupulous were soon added to the list of informers, and no calumnies, however gross and absurd, prevented the people from believing them.

It happened that a man, by the name of Coleman, was suspected of intrigues. His papers were searched, and some passages in them, unfortunately, seemed to confirm the statements of Oates. To impartial eyes, these papers simply indicated a desire and a hope that the Catholic religion would be reëstablished, in view of the predilections of Charles and James, and the general posture of affairs, just as some enthusiastic Jesuit missionary in the valley of the Mississippi may be supposed to write to his superior that America is on the eve of conversion to Catholicism.

[Sidenote: Penal Laws against Catholics.]

But the general ferment was still more increased by the disappearance of an eminent justice of the peace, who had taken the depositions of Oates against Coleman. Sir Edmondsbury Godfrey was found dead, and with every mark of violence, in a field near London, and was probably murdered by some fanatical persons in the communion of the Church of Rome. But if so, the murder was a great blunder. It was worse than a crime. The whole community were mad with rage and fear. The old penal laws were strictly enforced against the Catholics. The jails were filled with victims. London wore the appearance of a besieged city. The houses of the Catholics were every where searched, and two thousand of them imprisoned. Posts were planted in the street, that chains might be thrown across them on the first alarm. The military, the train bands, and the volunteers were called out. Forty thousand men were kept under guard during the night. Numerous patrols paraded the streets. The gates of the Palace were closed, and the guards of the city were doubled. Oates was pronounced to be the savior of his country, lodged at Whitehall and pensioned with twelve hundred pounds a year.

Then flowed more innocent blood than had been shed for a long period. Catholics who were noble, and Catholics who were obscure, were alike judicially murdered; and the courts of justice, instead of being places of refuge, were disgraced by the foulest abominations. Every day new witnesses were produced of crimes which never happened, and new victims were offered up to appease the wrath of a prejudiced people. Among these victims of popular frenzy was the Earl of Stafford, a venerable and venerated nobleman of sixty-nine years of age, against whom sufficient evidence was not found to convict him; and whose only crime was in being at the head of the Catholic party. Yet he was found guilty by the House of Peers, fifty-five out of eighty-six having voted for his execution. He died on the scaffold, but with the greatest serenity, forgiving his persecutors, and compassionating their delusions. A future generation, during the reign of George IV., however, reversed his attainder, and did justice to his memory, and restored his descendants to their rank and fortune.

[Sidenote: Persecution of Dissenters.]

If no other illustrious victims suffered, persecution was nevertheless directed into other channels. Parliament passed an act that no person should sit in either House, unless he had previously taken the oath of allegiance and supremacy, and subscribed to the declaration that the worship of the Church of Rome was idolatrous. Catholics were disabled from prosecuting a suit in any court of law, from receiving any legacy, and from acting as executors or administrators of estates. This horrid bill, which outlawed the whole Catholic population, had repeatedly miscarried, but, under influence of the panic which Oates and his confederates created, was now triumphantly passed. Charles himself gave his royal assent because he was afraid to stem the torrent of popular infatuation. And the English nation permitted one hundred and thirty years to elapse before the civil disabilities of the Catholics were removed, and then only by the most strenuous exertions of such a statesman as Sir Robert Peel.

It is some satisfaction to know that justice at last overtook the chief authors of this diabolical infatuation. During the reign of James II., Oates and others were punished as they deserved. Oates's credit gradually passed away. He was fined, imprisoned, and whipped at the pillory until life itself had nearly fled. He died unlamented and detested, leaving behind him, to all posterity an infamous notoriety.

But the sufferings of the Catholics, during this reign, were more than exceeded by the sufferings of Dissenters, who were cruelly persecuted. All the various sects of the Protestants were odious and ridiculous in the eyes of the king. They were regarded as hostile in their sympathies, and treasonable in their designs. They were fined, imprisoned, mutilated, and whipped. An Act of Uniformity was passed, which restored the old penal laws of Elizabeth, and which subjected all to their penalty who did not use the Book of Common Prayer, and adhere strictly to the ritual of the Church of England. The oligarchical power of the bishops was restored, and two thousand ministers were driven from their livings, and compelled to seek a precarious support. Many other acts of flagrant injustice were passed by a subservient parliament, and cruelly carried into execution by unfeeling judges. But the religious persecution of dissenters was not consummated until the reign of James under whose favor or direction the inhuman Jeffreys inflicted the most atrocious crimes which have ever been committed under the sanction of the law. But these will be more appropriately noticed under the reign of James II. Charles was not so cruel in his temper, or bigoted in his sentiments, as his brother James. He was rather a Gallio than a persecutor. He would permit any thing rather than suffer himself to be interrupted in his pleasures. He was governed by his favorites and his women. He had not sufficient moral elevation to be earnest in any thing, even to be a bigot in religion. He vacillated between the infidelity of Hobbes and the superstitions of Rome. He lived a scoffer, and died a Catholic. His temper was easy, but so easy as not to prevent the persecution and ruin of his best supporters, when they had become odious to the nation. If he was incapable of enmity, he was also incapable of friendship. If he hated no one with long-continued malignity, it was only because it was too much trouble to hate perseveringly. But he loved with no more constancy than he hated. He had no patriotism, and no appreciation of moral excellence. He would rather see half of the merchants of London ruined, and half of the Dissenters immured in gloomy prisons, than lose two hours of inglorious dalliance with one of his numerous concubines. A more contemptible prince never sat on the English throne, or one whose whole reign was disgraced by a more constant succession of political blunders and social crimes. And yet he never fully lost his popularity, nor was his reign felt to be as burdensome as was that of the protector, Cromwell, thus showing how little the moral excellence of rulers is ordinarily appreciated or valued by a wilful or blinded generation. We love not the rebukers of our sins, or the opposers of our pleasures. We love those who prophesy smooth things, and "cry peace, when there is no peace." Such is man in his weakness and his degeneracy; and only an omnipotent power can change this ordinary temper of the devotees to pleasure and inglorious gains.

[Sidenote: Execution of Russell and Sydney.]

Among the saddest events during the reign of Charles, were the executions of Lord Russell and Algernon Sydney. They were concerned, with a few other great men, in a conspiracy, which had for its object the restoration of greater liberty. They contemplated an insurrection, known by the name of the _Rye House Plot_; but it was discovered, and Russell and Sydney became martyrs. The former was the son of the Earl of Bedford, and the latter was the brother of the Earl of Leicester. Russell was a devoted Churchman, of pure morals, and greatly beloved by the people. Sydney was a strenuous republican, and was opposed to any particular form of church government. He thought that religion should be like a divine philosophy in the mind, and had great veneration for the doctrines of Plato. Nothing could save these illustrious men. The Duke of York and Jeffreys declared that, if they were not executed, there would be no safety for themselves. They both suffered with great intrepidity, and the friends of liberty have ever since cherished their memory with peculiar fondness.

[Sidenote: Manners and Customs of England.]

[Sidenote: Milton--Dryden.]

Mr. Macaulay, in his recent History, has presented the manners and customs of England during the disgraceful reign of Charles II. It is impossible, in this brief survey, to allude to all those customs; but we direct particularly the attention of readers to them, as described in his third chapter, from which it would appear, that a most manifest and most glorious progress has been made since that period in all the arts of civilization, both useful and ornamental. In those times, travelling was difficult and slow, from the badness of the roads and the imperfections of the carriages. Highwaymen were secreted along the thoroughfares, and, in mounted troops, defied the law, and distressed the whole travelling community. The transmission of letters by post was tardy and unfrequent, and the scandal of coffee-houses supplied the greatest want and the greatest luxury of modern times, the newspaper. There was great scarcity of books in the country places, and the only press in England north of the Trent seems to have been at York. Literature was but feebly cultivated by country squires or country parsons, and female education was disgracefully neglected. Few rich men had libraries as large or valuable as are now common to shopkeepers and mechanics; while the literary stores of a lady of the manor were confined chiefly to the prayer-book and the receipt-book. And those works which were produced or read were disgraced by licentious ribaldry, which had succeeded religious austerity. The drama was the only department of literature which compensated authors, and this was scandalous in the extreme. We cannot turn over the pages of one of the popular dramatists of the age without being shocked by the most culpable indecency. Even Dryden was no exception to the rule; and his poetry, some of which is the most beautiful in the language, can hardly be put into the hands of the young without danger of corrupting them. Poets and all literary men lived by the bounty of the rich and great, and prospered only as they pandered to depraved passions. Many, of great intellectual excellence, died from want and mortification; so that the poverty and distress of literary men became proverbial, and all worldly-wise people shunned contact with them as expensive and degrading. They were hunted from cocklofts to cellars by the minions of the law, and the foulest jails were often their only resting-place. The restoration of Charles proved unfortunate to one great and immortal genius, whom no temptations could assail, and no rewards could bribe. He "possessed his soul in patience," and "soared above the Aonian mount," amid general levity and profligacy. Had he written for a pure, classic, and learned age, he could not have written with greater moral beauty. But he lived when no moral excellence was appreciated, and his claims on the gratitude of the world are beyond all estimation, when we remember that he wrote with the full consciousness, like the great Bacon, that his works would only be valued or read by future generations. Milton was, indeed, unmolested; but he was sadly neglected in his blindness and in his greatness. But, like all the great teachers of the world, he was sustained by something higher than earthly applause, and labored, like an immortal artist, from the love which his labor excited,--labored to realize the work of art which his imagination had conceived, as well as to propagate ideas and sentiments which should tend to elevate mankind. Dryden was his contemporary, but obtained a greater homage, not because he was more worthy, but because he adapted his genius to the taste of a frivolous and corrupt people. He afterwards wrote more unexceptionably, composed lyrics instead of farces, and satires instead of plays. In his latter days, he could afford to write in a purer style; and, as he became independent, he reared the superstructure of his glorious fame. But Dryden spent the best parts of his life as a panderer to the vices of the town, and was an idol chiefly, in Wills's Coffee House, of lampooners, and idlers, and scandal-mongers. Nor were there many people, in the church or in the state, sufficiently influential and noble to stem the torrent. The city clergy were the most respectable, and the pulpits of London were occupied with twelve men who afterwards became bishops, and who are among the great ornaments of the sacred literature of their country. Sherlock, Tillotson, Wake, Collier, Burnet, Stillingfleet, Patrick, Fowler, Sharp, Tennison, and Beveridge made the Established Church respected in the town; but the country clergy, as a whole, were ignorant and depressed. Not one living in fifty enabled the incumbent to bring up a family comfortably or respectably. The clergyman was disdained even by the county attorney, was hardly tolerated at the table of his patron, and could scarcely marry beyond the rank of a cook or housekeeper. And his poverty and bondage continued so long that, in the times of Swift, the parson was a byword and a jest among the various servants in the households of the great. Still there were eminent clergymen amid the general depression of their order, both in and out of the Established Church. Besides the London preachers were many connected with the Universities and Cathedrals; and there were some distinguished Dissenters, among whom Baxter, Howe, and Alleine if there were no others, would alone have made the name of Puritan respectable.

[Sidenote: Condition of the People.]

The saddest fact, in connection with the internal history of England, at this time, was the condition of the people. They had small wages, and many privations. They had no social rank, and were disgraced by many vices. They were ignorant and brutal. The wages of laborers only averaged four shillings a week, while those of mechanics were not equal to what some ordinarily earn, in this country and in these times, in a single day. Both peasants, and artisans were not only ill paid, but ill used, and they died, miserably and prematurely, from famine and disease. Nor did sympathy exist for the misfortunes of the poor. There were no institutions of public philanthropy. Jails were unvisited by the ministers of mercy, and the abodes of poverty were left by a careless generation to be dens of infamy and crime. Such was England two hundred years ago; and there is no delusion more unwarranted by sober facts than that which supposes that those former times were better than our own, in any thing which abridges the labors or alleviates the miseries of mankind. "It is now the fashion to place the golden age of England in times when noblemen were destitute of comforts the want of which would be intolerable to a modern footman; when farmers and shopkeepers breakfasted on loaves the very sight of which would raise a riot in a modern workhouse, when men died faster in the purest country air than they now die in the most pestilential lanes of our towns; and when men died faster in the lanes of our towns than they now die on the coast of Guinea. But we too shall, in our turn, be outstripped, and, in our turn, envied. There is constant improvement, as there also is constant discontent; and future generations may talk of the reign of Queen Victoria as a time when England was truly merry England, when all classes were bound together by brotherly sympathy, when the rich did not grind the faces of the poor, and when the poor did not envy the splendor of the rich."

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REFERENCES.--Of all the works which have yet appeared,
respecting this interesting epoch, the new History of
Macaulay is the most brilliant and instructive. Indeed, the
student scarcely needs any other history, in spite of
Macaulay's Whig doctrines. He may sacrifice something to
effect; and he may give us pictures, instead of philosophy;
but, nevertheless, his book has transcendent merit, and will
be read, by all classes, so long as English history is
prized. Mackintosh's fragment, on the same period, is more
philosophical, and possesses very great merits. Lingard's
History is very valuable on this reign, and should be
consulted. Hume, also, will never cease to please. Burnet is
a prejudiced historian, but his work is an authority. The
lives of Milton, Dryden, and Clarendon should also be read
in this connection. Hallam has but treated the
constitutional history of these times. See also Temple's
Works; the Life of William Lord Russell; Rapin's History.
Pepys, Dalrymple, Rymeri Foedera, the Commons' Journal, and
the Howell State Trials are not easily accessible, and not
necessary, except to the historian.