for the cold-blooded indifference with which he had been wont to extricate himself from difficulties, by the sacrifice even of ministers the most favoured, and measures the most solemnly resolved upon, that the exclusionists were justified by all their past experience in acting upon the conviction that the king, rather than suffer any annoyance, would, when he came to be pressed, desert his brother, as he had done every body else, who had trusted him; and they had many signal instances in support of this conviction. After having embarked with all his heart and soul in the intrigues of the cabal, and (by way of feeling the pulse of the nation) issued his memorable declaration of indulgence, such was the precipitation with which he veered about, when the storm began to whistle round his head, that even Shaftesbury himself, so adroit in shifting with every turn and change of the tide, had hardly time to tack about and get the start of his majesty. And it was not so long before, that, having granted Lord Danby a full pardon, and swore that he would give it him, if occasion required, again and again ten times over," he had suffered him to be committed to the Tower; where he lay for years after the storm, which had beat so furiously upon him, had subsided into a dead calm, and his majesty had no longer any thing to fear from the resentment of the commons. This desertion of Lord Danby reflects yet more dishonour upon Charles, as that minister, though false to most other people, had been true to him. "For had the treasurer," says Sir John, "considered nobody but himself, he might certainly have fared better;" but he resolved rather to suffer, than to do any thing that might draw discredit upon the king. "A most unhappy thing," he adds, "it is to serve a fickle prince, which, it must be owned, was part of our master's character." The word fickle, here made use of, is, we suppose, a courtier's euphuism for selfish and ungrateful. These glaring facts afford a striking commentary upon those high sounding verses of his laurelled poet, (for laureate we cannot bring ourselves to call the mighty bard.) 66 "No groundless clamours shall my friend remove, In short, to use the language of his vindicator, North, there was no dependence to be placed upon the king, such dexterity did he always manifest in saving himself at any time, -by any turn, or by the sacrifice of any person whatever. Thus, when his own ease and quiet appeared to demand that his brother should be sent away, he could, with the most frigid indifference, tell him, he saw fit he should "absent himself some time beyond the seas." Again, when fears had been instilled into him, that, by removing his brother, he would only leave himself exposed to the aggressions of parliament, he could recall, and with the utmost shew of affection embrace him; swearing, as our author heard, that " nobody should ever part them for the future." But interest-his own sole and proper interest-was alike the moving spring of his conduct in both cases. Here the exclusionists did not discriminate motives with sufficient nicety-he had yielded, they said, ninetynine times before he would yield the hundredth—and, in blood and confiscation, they paid the penalty of their error. The period that elapsed between the dissolution of Charles's last parliament and his own death, furnishes more deep and useful reflection than whole centuries of happier and more flourishing times. It is that portion of our history on which we least like to dwell-from which our eyes are most frequently turned away in abhorrence, and where the feelings, implanted and cherished by our free constitution, its own best and firmest supporters, are most irritated and offended. But those who would deduce from the annals of our country the most salutary warning they are calculated to afford, must force themselves to look steadfastly upon these events, however painful and loathsome to contemplate; and in the temporary grave of English liberties to read the fearful secrets of that euthanasia, which the great historian and philosopher has predicted, as the final close of our mixed constitution. Were it only that they tended to interrupt the confiding security with which, from a presumptuousness common to all free nations, we are apt to repose upon the durability of our institutions, such studies, however uninviting, were of far more use to us than the perusal of the brightest triumphs and most splendid æra of our freedom. The condition of every government, both reason and experience alike teach us, is, at the best, but precarious. Even our own, however artfully constituted, is subject to the common law of all human institutions; and, like our bodies, containing within it the seeds of death, can only hope for a longer existence, from our superior knowledgederived from a longer experience of the diseases to which governments are subject, and our superior skill in the application of the proper remedies. Every state, in its turn, appears to have believed, that in its institutions there was a kind of immortal essence, which, both in defiance of time and chance, would suffice to preserve them from decay; and to this overweening confidence in their fancied imperishable nature their ruin may, generally, in great measure, be attributed. The free republics of Greece, superior to all the world in arts and arms, vainly imagined that no circumstances were ever likely to arise within, or power without, of a nature strong enough to destroy their independence. Yet while, in this security, in ruinous wars with each other they wasted the energies they should have reserved for its defence, on their very borders was growing up a comparatively barbarous state, which in one short day dissolved the charm for ever. While the Roman contemplated with pride the spoils of a conquered world piled up in his capitol, and believed his power as everlasting as the rock on which he stood, he saw not-what we see-the barbarians louring, in dim perspective, behind. Far less did either Greek or Roman perceive the changes which time and corruption had wrought upon the constitution of their own states, or mark the progress of that internal decay, which was preparing them for servitude, and in the case of the latter, at least, had destroyed his freedom long before the downfall of his power. As a nation, we have our full share of this vain and uncalculating self-confidence; but whether the storm be brewing in the east, or the west, we may be certain that-should it be destined ever to break upon us we shall best prepare ourselves to weather its violence, by preserving unimpaired the freedom of our political institutions "Whilst the Coliseum stands Rome shall stand"—a vain prediction, built upon the irrational grounds of a superstitious faith. Our own watery fence is a better protection than stone walls, but a better still is to be found in the free population it encircles; and be it our boast― a fairer than the Roman's-that whilst round us rolls the ocean, and within us lives the spirit of our fathers, our country shall not cease to be-what it has ever been-the fortress and strong hold of retiring freedom. But as no state can hope for duration, whose rulers keep not a watchful eye on all around, not only observing the powers which actually exist, but as far as it is given to man to pry into futurity-discerning such as are likely to arise; so no people can expect to retain their freedom long, who are not apprehensively alive to the dangers which surround it, and who do not scrutinize with jealous attention the tendency of every-even the most immaterial act of their government. To the care and sagacity of their rulers they must, in great measure, trust for security against the dangers from without; on themselves alone can they depend for protection against those from within. The statesman who should trust, with unlimited faith, to the goodwill of any foreign power on earth, would not commit a more fatal error than the people who should repose implicit confidence in the honour, however high, or the integrity, however great, of any government whatever. That to watch and be watched is the sole condition on which the component members of a constitution, framed like ours, can possibly adhere together, is a principle which we deduce, at every step, in reading the history of the reign of Charles; and no less clearly do we see, that of the respective duties incumbent upon subjects and their rulers, that of the former is much more arduous in its nature, and more incessant in the attention it requires. Nor is it a duty which has grown either more easy or less necessary in the course of ages, but, on the contrary, has become only the more difficult and imperious by the substitution of a new enemy, much more subtle in its operations, and consequently demanding much greater attention than the former. Prerogative, though a strong and dangerous foe, could never effectually conceal his aggressions, which might, therefore, always be withstood and checked before they had proceeded to any fatal extremity. But influence, working underground, and imperceptible in its motions, sounds no note of alarm, and offers no point of attack. Like some subtle poison, stealing through all the veins of the body politie, it unnerves every arm, and corrupts every heart. Creating an opposition among our passions, and making interest rebel against honour, it arms us against ourselves, and deprives us not merely of the power, but even the will to act with freedom and resolution. Added to this, the science of politics having become much more complex than heretofore, and speaking a new language of its own, it is both much more difficult, on the one hand, to perceive the bearing and tendency of any particular measure; and, on the other, much easier to wrap up a pernicious meaning in an envelope of ill-defined or unintelligible phrases. Then the various parts of the government being more nicely adjusted than formerly, the whole works more smoothly and silently, and, therefore, less frequently draws our attention; and seldom stopping or going flagrantly wrong, never startles us into examining the state of the internal machinery. But it is not therefore certain, that it may not one day stop, and the derangement be found irremediable;-the most fatal and absolute decay is generally that, which, in the beginning, was the least perceptible. In the fortunate absence of such provocatives as are wanting to preserve in us the requisite attention to the motions of our vessel, it is well to get imbued with the spirit of more suspicious times; and to learn by the dire experience of others, rather than our own, the necessity of an alert and even watchful jealousy. This lesson, so needful in every free state, is inculcated more forcibly by the whole tenor of government proceedings in the reign of which we have been treating, than by that of any other period we could possibly select for the purpose. Besides, the elements of the constitution being not then reduced to that perfect subordination one to another to which they have since attained, those different principles, that are to be found in every mixed constitution, and which, though more covertly, are not less surely working now than then, are there seen in open conflict, and give us the means of more duly appreciating their influence upon the whole machine of government. Finally, the catastrophe, though of a nature to inspire us with the profoundest melancholy, yet affords a memorable example of the madness, as well as danger, of trusting to the personal qualities of the monarch for the just administration of the laws; and consigning into his hands. those reins on his authority, which the wisdom of our forefathers had lodged with the representatives of the people. In reading the history of this singular issue of the disputes between Charles and his parliament, it seems, at first sight, as though we were unable, on reasonable and sufficient grounds, to account for the mighty revulsion of feeling in the people, which gave the monarch so complete a triumph over the exclusionists. The wonder is enhanced, when we consider that the fathers of that generation had contended in arms with his father, and that they themselves, shortly afterwards, rose up against his successor, in defence of those very privileges, which they now were not only willing, but apparently delighted to resign. And, indeed, the causes of this phenomenon, though, as was seen by their effects, powerful in operation, are not very ostensible or marked in their character. Perhaps it was that very recollection of the war the country had waged, and of the military despotism in which it had terminated, that, having left a most disagreeable impression on their minds, made them feelingly alive to the danger of a like result to the present contest. The excesses of the republican party too had tended to lessen their respect for the cause of liberty in general; and giving the royalists a preponderance throughout the nation, furnished them also with the opportunity of raising a cry against their opponents, as aiming at a similar subversion of monarchy and episcopacy. The church and king in danger, this a watchword of alarm in all periods of our history-was never more successfully raised than now, by the opposers of the exclusion bill: and we must be well aware, how mighty in operation, in this country, is any cry that has once fairly got possession of the mouths and ears of the vulgar. Besides, the character of Charles was not seen in the same light by them that it is by us. That steady support of his brother, which, if not virtue, at least, as Mr. Fox observes, bears strong resemblance to it, though really to be ascribed to the influence of very different feelings, would doubtless. appear to them to result from a noble affection, and strict re |
